The Gems are not thrilled to have Siouxsie in their midst. She’s an annoying, clueless bird who gets in the way, and who doesn’t get fast enough out of the way when given a beady stare. But, the Gems aren’t a bullying bunch, and so, although they don’t want this crazy-pouffed hen to hang out with them, they’re not beating up on her either. There’s a judicious use of feather ruffling and pecking, which quickly subsides when Siouxsie turns tail. For a hen who is used to pummeling others, Siouxsie is feeling rather out of sorts. No place seems safe. Just when she starts to enjoy her corner of the outside run, another hen comes along and tells her to move on.

Siouxsie has come up with a strategy of how to be left alone.

This is Topaz. Topaz is a classic broody hen.

Topaz is fluffed up in righteous mamma-hen anger (even though there are no eggs under her). She churrs threats to anyone who comes near her nesting box. The Gems avoid her. Siouxsie has planted herself outside of Topaz’s box. Siouxsie ignores the broody hen growling. Siouxsie doesn’t care, because the hens that do count, those Gems that chase her about, don’t come near Topaz, and so they don’t come near her. Yesterday, Siouxsie even crowded herself into that nesting box with Topaz and laid an egg.

Perhaps Siouxsie isn’t as clueless as I thought.

Yesterday I collected 9 eggs from the Big Barn girls. When there’s an abundance of eggs, it’s Quiche Season. Quiche is simply a savory egg custard. It’s very forgiving. Know the proportions, use your good eggs, and it will come out right.

I prefer to use a clear glass Pyrex pie plate for the quiche, because it browns the crust just right. But, that’s a quibble. In any event, prebake a pie crust. (A recipe will be in my upcoming egg cookbook, but for now use this one as it is close to mine.)

Quiche is all about the proportions. 4 large eggs, 1 1/2 cups of milk or cream, 1 cup of shredded cheese, and 1/2 cup of add-ins. A pinch of salt brings out the flavor. Fresh herbs are a nice touch. In the photo below, I used whole milk, cheddar cheese and some Parmesan, and sautéed red onions and sweet red bell peppers. Fresh parsley was tossed on top.

Bake at 350 degrees F for about 35 to 40 minutes until set. That’s it!

Have you made quiche lately, and what was in it?

The “little pond” of Little Pond Farm is actually a large water feature. It was not easy to build, but I had a lot of help. It was constructed ten years ago. When designing it, I had imagined a half-dozen beautiful koi swimming about. The first year I bought several young and pretty fish. They were small. A Great Blue Heron dined on many. But a few survived. Especially this one. She was not even two-inches long when I purchased her for $2.99, I now call her The Beast. She is savvy. The pond has an underwater cave where she stays safe from predators and where she sleeps in the winter.

The Beast could live for decades. Her minions are her descendants, fathered by feeder goldfish.

Even as the pond was being built, critters moved in. A bullfrog lived here for ten years, until it died last spring from what I assume was old age. Bullfrogs, like chickens, are omnivores. The large ones even eat garter snakes. When one animal disappears, another takes its place. I’d wondered all last summer why I didn’t see any more large frogs. Now I know why.

This is an Eastern Ribbon Snake. It is an aquatic reptile. 90% of its diet is composed of frogs, toads and salamanders. It ignores the Beast. It ignores me, which means that I can watch it hunt. Here the snake has just snatched a frog and is pulling it into its lair.

Later, the snake came out to sun itself. You can see the bulge where the frog is in its belly.

I miss that old bullfrog, but life sure is interesting around the Little Pond.

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.