Ah, a pretty brutal jobs report came out this morning, doing nothing to alleviate my mood. Putting together the container garden this afternoon might help.
And the economy tanks further…
Years ago I blogged about politics and ultimately found it ruinous to my mental health. These days, I’m trying to avoid focusing too much on the day to day of politics and the economy, but here in the middle of 2010 it seems an inescapable conclusion that with Europe pursuing austerity measures and the American right freaking out about deficits, we’re about to slip into economic straits at least as bad as the winter of 2008/2009.
I’m a contract worker at a well established technology and media company in Atlanta, and at present my contract expires in September. It may be extended to as long as mid-December, which would land me at the one-year hard cut off that the company has for contract employees. I am not looking forward to the loss of steady income and the (minor) security of contracts that are extended in several-month blocs, especially since I’ll be walking out into an economy that I believe will be contracting again. I don’t expect there to be a lot of jobs to be had. I expect a rough time.
I’ve been wracked with the impulse lately to plant more food, to expand my garden (which receives inadequate sunlight despite my constant trimming of tree limbs) through the use of five-gallon buckets on my driveway. It’s the best-lit spot on my property, running roughly east-west and with only shrubs and short trees growing on the narrow, terraced strip of earth between it and my neighbor’s driveway.
Sunday is Independence Day and I have Monday off. I think I may take the long weekend to invest in eight or ten five gallon buckets, eight or ten bags of soil, four or five bags of organic amendments, and seeds (or seedlings) for things like winter squashes. I’ll probably start this evening, because even if I’m tossed out into something indistinguishable from an economic depression, I intend to eat. And even if the worst comes and there are no jobs for years and I lose my beloved house to the sharks at CitiGroup, a container garden is certainly more mobile than my backyard struggle to hold back the canopy.
These are such tough times. But whatever happens, by God I’m going to eat.
Nuka Pickling – Obscenely Delicious
I’m a fermentation freak. From weeks-long brine soaks for whole vegetables, to beer and wine brewing, to an endless turning of the piles of kitchen wastes and garden weeds, if microbes can transform a thing, I’m eager to see the results.
Having had some pretty interesting successes (and failures — brined green beans, no!) with fermentation, I’m always eager to branch out and learn new methods. At the Dekalb Farmers Market last weekend, they finally had quart-size jars of wheat bran for sale. I bought about two and a half pounds of it for a couple of bucks, and raced home to get started on my Nuka bed — a nearly immortal culture of beneficial microbes requiring daily tending and providing super-fast pickling of even whole vegetables.
Nukazuke Basics
To understand the nuka concept, you should know a couple of things about how microbes interact to ferment vegetables. First, these processes are anaerobic. To make a basic cucumber pickle, it’s vital to keep the cukes submerged in your liquid medium (traditionally a strong brine). Second, salt is a fast and easy method for generating conditions that are favorable to the growth of lactobacillus (you want that) and unfavorable to a lot of annoying bugs you don’t.
Exposure to air leads to degradation: molds, yeasts, general cellular destruction. The difference between a cucumber in brine for a month and cucumber sitting out on your counter for a month would be obvious, even without a taste test.
With nuka fermentation, instead of using a liquid brine, bran (traditionally rice bran) is used to create a durable growth medium for the LAB (lactic acid bacteria) and assorted yeasts which will collectively transform your food. The bed requires daily stirring and mixing for proper aeration, and this should be done with clean hands. The microbes that live on your skin will help to replenish and balance the living culture which is fermenting your food. Pretty cool, if you ask me.
In Japan, living nuka crocks have been passed down through generations of families. That’s mind boggling.
What You Need
- I decided to use a black, one-gallon, food grade plastic bucket that was once home to kalamata olives, so my portions work out for that volume of space. Adjust to suit your needs.
- 2-ish pounds of wheat bran. Probably a similar amount of rice bran if you find that.
- One sheet of kombu seaweed. Soak it in water for a little while to rehydrate it.
- Handful of red pepper flakes or similar. Change the measurements to suit your tastes. If you’re not big on spicy, use less or skip this step.
- Garlic. I used fermented garlic from the jar I keep in my cupboard, which probably helped to inoculate the bed. I added a lot, but I’m gay for garlic.
- Live beer. Home brewed is best, all full of yeasty joy. A slice of bread will apparently work, too. Puree it with some water and it will help foster yeast growth.
- Five cups of water
- Four or five tablespoon of salt. Less is probably alright if you’re not a salt fanatic. These processes are surprisingly flexible.
Making the Nuka Bed
- Pour the water and salt into a pot and boil. Make sure all the salt dissolves. Cover and set aside to cool.
- Toast the bran. I did it in two batches in my wok, turning it with a wooden spoon over medium heat. After a few minutes, the aromatics start to come out. A few minutes more and it’ll be hot to the touch. I think this step serves two roles: to enhance the flavor quality of the bran and as a dry sanitizing “rinse.” But don’t overdo, and don’t burn the bran. You’re not at war with the bugs.
- Pour the toasted bran into a large bowl or into the crock where it will ultimately live.
- Scatter the red pepper flakes onto the bran.
- Shred the kombu and add it.
- Add your garlic cloves or pickled garlic cloves.
- Pour the cooled saltwater mixture over the bran. This is a good time to mix it up to make sure it’s not too wet. Use your (clean) hands and mix and squeeze. I’ve seen the proper texture described as being similar to wet sand. That seems about right. It should be thoroughly moist but not dripping when you pull a handful out. If it feels too dry or too wet, add additional brine or bran.
- Assuming the mixture isn’t soggy, pour some of the beer (or the bread puree) into the mix. Stir it up again. The rest of the beer is for drinking. Enjoy.
- If you’re working in a bowl, now is the time to transfer the nuka bed into the crock where it will live.
- When not transferring vegetables in and out of the nuka crock, keep it covered with a cloth. I tie mine tightly on because the south is insect central.
Congratulations! You’re now the proud owner of a nukazuke crock.
Starter Vegetables
Now that you’ve got a great medium put together for the growth of beneficial microbes, you need to start feeding it. The cultures in the mix will take a few weeks to fully inhabit the space and mature, so don’t panic if your early efforts are uninspiring. I began with carrots because they seemed easy to work with and I love root ferments. Each of the first three days, I cut up two large carrots and buried the pieces throughout the nuka bed, removing the previous day’s starter vegetables. They were universally limp. On the third day I rinsed and tasted what I took out, which was like a soggy, salted carrot. Very little tang to it.
To diversify, I switched to cabbage wedges. Those came out more promising, and actually the batch I just took out tasted *amazing*. I replaced those with some small beets, which I love like Christians and Jesus, and can’t wait to taste them tomorrow. If this is how stuff is coming out five days in, I’m going to love this thing once my cucumber plants get a little larger.
To maintain the crock, mix it up daily and keep it covered so flies don’t land. Experiment with different lengths of pickling as the crock matures. I will be. Right now I can’t stop thinking of tangy beets after a 24 hour nuka ferment.
A couple of days ago, Tom Philpott put a great piece up at Grist called Why Eaters Alone Can’t Transform the Food System, noting that agricultural policy choices at the state and federal level are an overwhelming distortion in the food choices made by Americans (and globally, as we dump cheap food exports into world markets, undercutting the local ag economy).
It brought to mind a question I’ve been giving a lot of thought to for a while, namely: For what policies should food activists be advocating? I think most of us understand that corn subsidies are damaging human health, the environment, and distorting whatever passes for a free market around here, but if we were able to get the public to really demand a change, what should that change be?
Should ag subsidies be scrapped entirely? Do we want the subsidy system revamped to encourage local food chains and small production? What would that look like as a policy provision?
Currently Reading…
The Revolution Will Not Be Microwaved by Sandor Ellix Katz. I fell in love with his book Wild Fermentation quite some time ago, and I’m really excited to finally dig into this one.
Another Blog?
Yep, another blog.
I blogged in the middle part of the last decade on politics at a handful of sites and got burned out pretty badly on politics. My outrage meter overloaded. Now I give the world a lot of space and keep to my little corner.
Over the last few years I’ve found new things to focus on, things that feel more wholesome and human. I intend for this site to be a place to explore my growing and seemingly insatiable interest in topics like sustainable agriculture and wholesome eating (with political angles including farm subsidies, corn subsidies, ethanol subsidies, local chicken ordinances, why raw milk has to be labeled “For pet consumption only”… you get the idea), fermentation and living food, home brewing and my avid adventures with beer and wine, and general topics surrounding a sort of nebulous notion I have that our culture is damaging us. This blog is where I’ll work through some of my ideas, hopefully pick some up from others, collect and collate links, drop recommendations for books and music to feed the head, and ideally generate an ongoing interest and discussion from some like minded people.
Hello from Decatur, Georgia. My name is Stacie, and welcome to I’m Trying To Enjoy This.

