Combine

Hopper

Belts and gears

Doug and John checking out the cylinder

Controls

Navigation station

Today was my introduction to the John Deere 105 combine.  John and Doug repaired and spruced up elements of the combine as I read the operation manual.  I felt pretty useless, but I gained a basic understanding of the different parts by the end of the day.  John gave me a tour from the head that takes in the grains, the cylinder that threshes (separates grains from head), the wind tunnel that shoots out the chaff, and the hopper that holds the harvested grain. 

When we left the field, I fathomed the scale of my ignorance about the mechanical harvesting side of farming.  John has a lot of experience and I'm excited to learn from him.  At some point during lunch he said that he doesn't know the definition of a 'neo-con'.  I could have chimed in, but I felt that whatever I'd learn from him would be far more useful than what I could tell him about neo-cons, neo-liberals, and governance. 

Field check

Here are some of our grains as of a few days ago:

Rye

Red Fife

Lentils

Bind Weed (gah!)

Ethiopian Blue Tinge Emmer

Marquis

Triticale

Milling Around

My first task as an apprentice was to mill some foisy wheat.  The concept is simple: pass whole grains through stone grinders to make flour.  Doing it well, however, can be tricky and requires much attention.

The East Tyrolean Mill

Our darling mill came from Austria.  Doesn't it look like a wooden toy?  I feel as though I'm in Giupetto's shop.  The machine looks arcane, but is actually powered by an electric motor.  The top right is the hopper where grain is stored.  The grains pour into the stone wheel compartment below at a rate that can be adjusted by widening or narrowing a board at the bottom of the hopper.  Once the grains pass through the stones, it becomes flour of varying sizes that pass through different sized sifters.  We set up the outputs so that flour comes out first, then confectioners' flour, bran, and whole bits out the back. The buckets collect the resulting flour and bran.

Top to bottom: Hopper, stone wheels, stone adjuster, sifter and stone switches

After the motor is turned on, I start up the sifters and the stones by rotating the grey switches in the bottom left of the photo. Then, I turn the stone adjuster wheel, that metal wheel, to separate the stone wheels.  The wheels need to be apart as not to wear away at each other when grain isn't present.  I slowly bring the wheels together until I hear them lightly rubbing and pull them away just a tad.

Grains fed from hopper to stone wheels

I release grain into the stone wheel area by turning a knob (seen in the previous photo) that adjusts the space between that flat, detachable base and the upper part of the hopper.  I can fine-tune the gap by adjusting the distance between the two strings that holds up the base.

Left to right: Bran, confectioner's flour, whole wheat flour

I feel the flour coming out to get a sense of the temperature and texture.  As discussed at the Grain Growers Gathering, flour should not be milled at more than 112 degrees F, otherwise the proteins and gluten will be destroyed.  My body temperature is around 98 degrees F, so I use that as a gauge.  If the flour feels warm on my hand, then I adjust either the flow rate of grains into the stone wheels or widen the distance between the stones.  If the flour is warm and fine, then it's likely the stones are too close.  If the flour is warm and coarse, then it's like that I'm feeding too much grain at once. 

Sound and touch are essential to proper milling.  One must listen for the sound of the stones to make sure they're not grinding too closely.  There's no other way to tell if you're milling correctly other than to feel the flour.  It's difficult to strike a balance between temperature and texture.  I want a fine grain, but not at the expense of losing the usefulness of the flour.

SeriousEats.com posted some articles that helped me understand the effects of different kinds of milling fineness. There's one of wheat flour classifications and another on rising flour.  Another useful site is The Biscuit Doctor (not as many pictures).

Grain Growers Gathering

Farmers, bakers, and millers from across California met at our granary to discuss current issues about cultivating and using sustainably-grown grains.  Some farmers came from Ojai, California, though most were from Northern California. Doug did an excellent job of facilitating conversations covering widely divergent topics: weed control, grain storage, grain processing, marketing, media, and product labels.  This forum provided an excellent, broad-ranging introduction to the world of grains.

Jared of Organic Seed Alliance kicked-off the meeting with a presentation about the grain test plots in Humboldt at John LaBoyteaux's farm and at Front Porch Farm.  Seven varieties of wheat were chosen to measure their weed competitiveness, ability to grow in organic coastal conditions, rust resistance, lodging resistance, and quality.  Weed competition and mitigation stood at as salient areas of interest.

Afflictions

Weeds present a noxious problem for organic grain growers because they contribute moist matter and inedible seeds to harvested grain.  The added moisture increases the likelihood that grain will grow mold or rancid when stored.  Undesirable seeds may be benign, but they can be indigestible.  When I came to interview at the Mendocino Grain Project, I spent a few hours picking bind weed seeds out of threshed and cleaned foisy wheat berries.  The seeds are black and have an irregular shape, but is approximately the same size as many wheat berries such that they are difficult to sift out without losing desired grains. 

Rust is another concern among grain growers.  I'm not sure what rust is; is it a bacteria, fungus?  It turns grain heads the colour of rust and ruins the crop.  Rust can remain the in soil and destroy future crops.  I don't know how long it lasts and what methods of mitigation exist, so I'll report on this after doing some research.  Moist conditions are conducive to rust, which makes for an argument for spring planting.  Spring planting of wheat reduces the potential for exposure to rain.  Doug said that rust concerns coastal growers more than us.  I wonder if rust can arise from other factors.

Storage and Processing

The millers and bakers contributed interesting tips about proper storage and processing of grains.  Some debate arose about whether milled flour can be kept for months without degrading the nutrients and protein.  No conclusive arguments were presented; rather, everyone agreed that they err on the side of caution by using milled flour as soon as possible and reducing exposure to sun, moisture, and air.  Grain moisture levels shouldn't be more than 12%.  The most vehement assertions were made about the best temperature to mill grains at, which is that the flour should not be warmer than 120 degrees F, though body temperature acts as a good, qualitative gauge while milling.  Temperatures above 120 degrees F degrade the proteins and gluten in the grains.

External Relations

How to talk about grains became a vibrant topic of discussion.  Price points came up first, wherein people unanimously agreed that prices should be set at what makes a living wage and reflects labour inputs.  We talked about setting standard prices for similar products among participants of the Grain Growers Gathering.  While there was agreement on price points, perspectives varied regarding labelling, of what and how much information to put on packages.  Views also diverged about how to talk to the public about why we're doing what we're doing and what produced.  Many people expressed that they shouldn't have to market their products, that if they're good at what they do then people will come to them.

I remained a quiet observer throughout the meeting.  I found all the discussions interesting and noted that there was no mention of addressing poverty, for farmers or customers, or accessibility.  I also strongly disagreed with the idea that farmers should leave publicity to the media or others who might be interested in this work.  Defining our work is important to setting ourselves and values apart from destructive agricultural practices that we're maintaining an alternative to. 

Panorama

Tracing the length of California can be done along the scenic coastal route of the 1, the mountainous passes of the 101, or the dry grasses and monumental agricultural tracts of the 5.  Somehow we ended up on Highway 99.  It doesn't reach quite as far as the others, but is as, if not more, important as the other highways for understanding California.

The 99 is a vein that goes through California's agricultural heartland: the Central Valley.  According to the CDFA, California is the world's fifth largest supplier of food and agricultural commodities.  As you go through this region, your vehicular neighbour is no longer an SUV but lorries with livestock or open shipping containers of onions.  Fruit stands don't line the side of the road like the 5.  This is serious business with no time to fulfil tourist visions of enchantingly colourful, freshly-stocked farm stalls. 

Yet, I didn't see anyone in the fields.  Industrial agriculture at its height. Another distinction from the 5 is that you can see houses interspersed between farms.  They're not romantic Victorians with spires like the ones along the 101.  They look like pre-fab homes plunked down by a tornado that confused the open fields of Kansas for Cali

What is being done on these lands?  Where do these products go?  What is left behind, now and for a long time?  

My parents and I have driven through agricultural landscapes.  This was the first time it was our destination.  My dad, upon seeing that the farm I'll be working on has no shaded kiosks or place of rest, said, "Oh, my daughter.  What is she doing?"  We pulled up to the warehouse.  He asked if anyone else lived in the warehouse complex and if we're allowed to live there.  He knew the answers, but was hoping someone would tell him differently.  Then, he simply stated, "I am going to cry."

My dad's usual perspective that he will support what I want to do came into conflict with this real-time unfurling of a life he did not imagine.  My mom, contrastingly, embraced this new reality.  It seemed that she finally emerged from the months of mourning the dying dreams for my future, and she entered a state of acceptance, almost enthusiasm, for a future she recognized she has no control over. 

After we unpacked my belongings into the warehouse and made our outwardly silent, inwardly thought-laden trip back to the hotel, my dad recalled that I've wanted to farm for years, and that it's a dream come true.  My dad is a dreamer and would not stand in the way of a long-standing imaginary.

We each held different hopes for what I'd become.  I came close to their vision of a stable, prosperous life at times by attending a prestigious university, working at a renowned NGO in their city, and committing to a heterosexual partnership.  Our wants intersected in those moments.  Even when they diverged, there seemed to be time to reconnect.  Now, I've strayed far from the future they envisioned, with less time to become realigned.  But, dreams can change and maybe those new visions will be shared.

Mì

"Mì" means "wheat" in Vietnamese.  Mì has been in my vocabulary for as long as I can remember.  Growing up, I ate many bowls of mì gói (packaged, instant noodles, usually Top Ramen or Maruchan), mi hu tieu, and mi hoan thanh.  The common denominator in all these bowls were golden noodles.  It wasn't until recently that I learned that mì refers to "wheat" more broadly.  

Embarrassingly, I only came to know this definition a few weeks ago.  My (non-Vietnamese-speaking) friend, my mom, and I were making banh xeo together soon after I returned from my six-month search for an organic grain and dry bean farm to work on.  I recounted my travels, which included passionate proclamations of my rationale and intentions to cultivate as many ingredients in a Southeast Asian diet as possible in California.  When I finished the story and we refocused on cooking, my friend looked at a Vietnamese-language recipe and asked what mì is.  I said, "It's a kind of noodle, usually a wheat noodle."  My mom waited, in the way teachers do, to correct me.  "It means wheat.  Any kind of wheat." 

How embarrassing!  I go on about wanting to grow grains for Vietnamese immigrants, yet I don't know how to talk about it.  This event reminds me of a few things:

1. How I sometimes feel like an imposter among Vietnamese people
2. How I sometimes feel like an imposter among non-Vietnamese people
3. I should talk to my parents more than I do
4. The adjustment to grain and dry bean cultivation will exercise humility

While I continue to work on those things, I'd also like to research

• grains and beans grown in Southeast Asia
• grains and beans grown in California (past and present)
• selection of grasses