Eat The Yard

The 67 square feet of red winter wheat I planted last November finished a honey-yellow and the tall stalks for months undulated in the every-day, afternoon wind — but I could hardly characterize the little plot as “waves of grain”.  The description seems better suited for a vast expanse beyond our yard’s capacity.  The not-far mountains that line our horizon do take on a purplish tint in the evenings that one might describe as majestic, though.

Seven months ago when I sowed two pounds of seed, my primary purpose was to begin the process of rebuilding the soil on the north-eastern side of our property.  The area had been compacted by regular foot traffic and polluted by frequent back-washings from our pool by the previous owners, which likely left traces of diatomaceous earth and chlorine in what was awful, rocky clay earth to begin with.  Only determined weeds grew in the space.  A nearby plum hasn’t produced fruit in two seasons.  So I tilled in a few inches of compost and broadcast the seed.

Within a week, a fine mat of inch-high blades covered the area like new sod.

The wheat grew rapidly to waist high, then doubled in height as the heads emerged, rose, and tipped toward the ground — weighed down with fat berries.  I waited a few weeks past when the stalks turned straw colored before harvesting — until the berries had a bit of crunch when chewed.  The squirrels and rabbits weren’t nearly so patient.

To harvest, I thought about a scythe, but in the end all it took was a pair of clippers and 30 minutes to bring in our small lot.  Now it will sit in a breezy, sunny location beside our back door to dry out for three weeks.  Then we’ll really see what we reaped.

The running joke has been that we’ll process just enough flour to make a pancake or two.  I have no experience on which to base an estimate for how many pound(s) our small batch will be comprised of.  I ran some numbers based on 42 bales of wheat on a typical acre, and if our crop density was about average, we likely ended up with about 6.5 percent of a bale, which could potentially yield 3.9 pounds of wheat flour and make as many as five loaves of bread.  This feels like a generous prediction, though our stack of wheat does weigh about 20 pounds, stalks and all.

What can I say, except to express the mantra of this effort: We’ll see.  Soon our similarly small plot of rye will be set for harvest as the heads have begun to droop.  We’ll see about that, too.

I’d settle for a cup of flour.  A pancake.  A single slice of bread.

Tags: grain