Horseradish never used to be relegated to a little jar inconspicuously shelved in the refrigerator case in the supermarket. Horseradish, grated and turned into a relish or a sauce, was a frequent accompaniment to roasts and chicken, and a welcome spark of flavor in an otherwise often bland diet. Because horseradish is a long-lived and exceedingly easy to grow tap root, it was standard fare found on most rural tables in northeast America. My family didn’t come from that American farming culture, rather, my grandparents were immigrants from Russia, where horseradish was a year-round condiment. In the springtime it had a place of honor at the Seder table (a Seder being the home-based ritual and dinner celebrating freedom from slavery.)

I grow horseradish. My patch is at the periphery of the vegetable garden, as horseradish can become invasive. This is what it looks like early in the springtime. Only last week it was covered with snow, but now it’s shooting up green stalks, soon to unfurl into large leaves.

Dig down a bit and you’ll find the long white root. It takes some pulling to get it out.

The tops aren’t edible – at least not by people, but the goats love them!

They also like rubbing their heads against the root. It feels good and has a pungent odor that, according to goats, is the finest of perfumes.

The root needs a thorough scrubbing.

The ends are cut off (save the tops) and the root is peeled. Meanwhile, I’ve also peeled a large, raw beet.

The beet and the horseradish are cut into chunks and put into a food processor. Good white wine vinegar is poured in (enough to bring the puree to the right texture) and a hint of salt and a bit of sugar is added.

Here it is on the Seder plate. It is called Maror, and is delicious with Charoset (a nut and apple mixture, seen on the bottom right of the photo) and gefilte fish. We also ate it with roast chicken.

I sent the tops home with our guests. All they have to do to start their own horseradish patch is to tuck it into a sunny spot in their yard. Simply put it in a hole and cover up to the rim with dirt.

I don’t have to worry about the horseradish taking over the garden. My goats keep it in check, as they love eating the leaves. I don’t think that my friends will get goats to control their horseradish patch. But, they’ve already decided where to plant it – a spot at the edge of their yard where the distinctive large leaves will look good.

Who grows horseradish and how do you cook with it?

Chicks need to be kept safe from predators, warm and dry, and in clean bedding. What they don’t need is to be kept away from all dirt and microbes. When chicks are raised under a mama hen, they venture forth for short forays. They peck at the ground, taste a bit of green grass, and get exposed in small increments to the germs naturally living all around them. Some of these microorganisms are beneficial. Certainly, the bits of grit and minerals in the earth are good for chicks, as are tiny amounts of a variety of foods.

It’s still too cold for my chicks to go outside, so I’ve brought a bit of the outside in. Every couple of days I dig up a clump of dirt with some clover attached. (I’d dig up dandelions but they’re not growing yet.) I set it under the heat lamp in the brooder.

The chicks think about it. The boldest come closest first.

And then they all join in.

However, the best benefit of putting these dirt clumps into the brooder isn’t nutrition or disease resistance. It’s behavioral. From the first week, the chicks learn to peck at dirt and food and not at each other. I did this when the Gems were babies. I’ve never had pecking or aggression issues in that flock, even with a variety of breeds housed together. So far, these new chicks haven’t pecked each other at all. All is peaceful and friendly, and I attribute much of that good behavior to simply giving them a clod of dirt.

Last year I was approached by a forward-thinking nursing home director about installing a flock of chickens at her facility. The memory loss residents spend their days in a room looking over a lush green – and boring – lawn. She thought that a flock of busy, chatty hens would engage and delight the residents. I was brought on to consult on this project. I selected the coop, and will train the staff who will care for the hens. I’m also providing the pullets, which is why there are 26 chicks in my brooder. I’ll be saving the five most distinctive, calm, healthy and friendly of the lot to live at the nursing home.

In the meantime, I’ve been meeting some of the residents through programs that involve me talking, and chickens being their charming selves. Yesterday I brought five chicks to the home. Already, the benefits of having chickens in their lives was quantifiable. An elderly and oppositional woman who usually paces the halls, sat for the full hour of my presentation, smiling and fully engaged. A resident who is usually reticent to talk up asked a question.

Because of privacy concerns, I can’t show photos of the residents, but I can show you this, which, I think, says it all.

Terry Golson and a chick visit a nursing home.

Instead of living her remaining days in the quiet calm of her private hutch, Buffy, once again, surprised us all, and revived. For the last couple of days she’s been standing at the door, obviously eager to get out. She also was quite loud in her demands. My food dish is empty! and More water! I set her down in the run with the other old hens, but Siouxsie looked at her like a bull sees a red flag and charged. The trouble with Siouxsie is that she doesn’t read body language. Another hen would see that Buffy does the “I’m not a threat crouch” and the tail tuck, and after a chest thump or two, the aggressor would accept victory and move on. But Siouxsie pummels anyone she can, and doesn’t stop. Siouxsie can’t get away with that nonsense with Twinkydink and Edwina, and Betsy is too quick. But poor Buffy can’t get out of the way.

I had a solution: move Siouxsie in with the strong and active Gems. They’d put her in her place, and the Old Girls would have some peace. All of my hens already know each other from forays onto the lawn. The two flocks, the Old Girls and the Gems, see each other, and go their separate ways. Yesterday the weather was lovely, and I let the chickens out onto the lawn. When I called the Gems to go back inside, Siouxsie came over. She’s like that. Totally clueless.

I closed her up with the Gems.

At first, the Gems stayed away from Siouxsie. They needed to take stock of this newcomer.

Once again, Siouxsie showed how truly clueless she is. She immediately challenged the nearest hen. It was a Sussex. The Sussex are the most fearless of the breeds in this flock. There was chest thumping. Florence pecked hard. Once.

But, unlike Siouxsie, the Sussex understand that outright bloodshed isn’t worth the effort. Siouxsie scurried off. The Sussex let her be. Siouxsie found her way inside of the coop and spent some (hopefully thoughtful, although I doubt it) time on the roost. She got down and ate and drank. She went outside and did not challenge any of the hens. What happened at nighttime was going to be the telling moment. Would Siouxsie integrate into the flock?

Sometimes, being clueless has its benefits. Siouxsie didn’t hide in a nesting box. She didn’t wait outside in the dark. She hopped right up onto a prime roost spot and squeezed in with the other girls. But she did keep her head down, which showed a modicum of sense. There she is on the left, next to Etheldred.

Meanwhile, what of Buffy? I kept an eye Edwina’s reaction to her back in their midst. Edwina has pummeled Buffy in the past. But, that was only after Siouxsie had already drawn blood. Edwina came over, gave Buffy a cold stare, and then ambled away. Twinkydink, though, settled in next to her friend.

At night, Buffy managed to get onto the lowest roost.

If Buffy’s health takes another turn downward, I’ll know because Edwina will attack. But for now, all is right in the Old Girl’s world. And Siouxsie? She’s fine. I saw her checking out a nesting box this morning. Does she have enough sense not to tangle with broody Topaz? Who knows? It will be lesson that she should learn!