seeds of architecture, the environment and the american landscape from Washington DC

I love to cook. Unfortunately, I hate grocery shopping. My local Safeway - nicknamed the “not-so-Safeway” in the DC tradition of nicknaming grocery stores - resembles the mad rush at Target the day after Thanksgiving just about every weeknight. Don’t even think about trying to find bananas that aren’t some scary shade of fluorescent green after about 6pm. Living on Capitol Hill I am lucky enough to have Eastern Market nearby, but even at the market much of the produce comes from farms as far away as Pennsylvania or is imported from who knows where.

What’s an amateur, fresh veggie loving cook to do? Recently, I have been hearing a lot about Community Supported Agriculture, or CSA.  According to Local Harvest many farms offer produce subscriptions, where buyers receive a weekly or monthly basket of produce, flowers, fruits, eggs, milk, coffee, or any sort of different farm products.

In college in Philadelphia I got interested in the local food movement and volunteered at a community run garden. In the largely low-income neighborhood of West Philly, the garden was one of the few places where local families could get fresh foods.  Also in Philly is perhaps the finest food market in the country - Reading Terminal - where farmers and craftsman from all over southeast Pennslyvania sell everything from grass-fed beef to local apples and giant baked pretzels. Local food is not only tastier and fresher than the imported produce in the grocery store, it also better for the environment. Less shipping means less air and global warming pollution. Small, community supported farms often use less fertilizer, pesticides and other harmful chemicals that seep into our water supply.

Joining a CSA seems like a great way to reconnect with the local food movement, especially as Ryan and I experiment with a vegetable garden of our own. In case the local critters get a hold of our broccoli crop, we can always count on a weekly delivery of veggies from as nearby as Prince Georges County. Joining a CSA can be costly upfront. Most CSA farms ask for payment for the season which is usally late spring through early fall and cost around $600-800. You can cut the cost by sharing. A typical weekly delivery is ideal for a family of 4, so you can go in with your housemates or another couple in your neighborhood. Check out this directory for a CSA that delivers to your neighborhood.

I am already looking forward to thinking up new seasonal recipes and getting to know a local farm. 

Green is making me sick.

The word is being abused so much, and the idea is so saturated, that I’m beginning to have trouble spitting it out of my mouth. You can paint cowpies green all day… they are still cowpies. In this time and art of greenwashing I’m afraid we’ve lost any understanding of the word.

The interesting thing about green is its location at 520-570 nanometers in the color spectrum. According to Wikipedia (via the Olympus Microscopy Resource Center) “the sensitivity of the dark-adapted human eye is greatest at about 507 nm, a blue-green color, while the light-adapted eye is most sensitive about 555 nm, a slightly yellowish green; these are the peak locations of the rod and cone (scotopic and photopic, respectively) luminosity functions.” The translation is that our eyes are most sensitive in both light and dark to the color green; we can distinguish more hues of green than any other color. This is why newer fire engines and cross walks are painted bright yellow/green; the color is visible both day and night. Green is interesting because we are wired to detect subtle changes in our environment, much of it dominated at one time by green, blue and yellow.

Removing mountaintops is not subtle and coal is not clean.

Green is interesting because it suggests some type of growth, a connection to water and sunlight, and the beauty of diversity. The absurdity of the green revolution is that it is occurring in advertising and not in environmental action; it is the representation of an ideal painted on a surface (in the hue of our choice). We, as communities and individuals, are very responsive to green ideas. The question unknown is if these surfaces can grow.

A cowpie is great fertilizer.

Can something worthwhile grow from the sh*t we are being thrown. Can advertisements like Clean Coal, get people to think about what coal really is and how difficult and dirty it is to find, access, extract, burn, sequester, store… maybe some intelligence can grow from the green facade? Maybe we can attract new ideas, solutions and inspiration from greenwashing? Or is too much green dangerous? Perhaps the washout will turn inspiration to cynicism.

Ilex vomitoria and too much green

Although the leaves of Ilex vomitoria, common name Yaupon Holly, do contain caffeine and have been historically used for medicinal and social purposes, too many leaves or berries leaves one feeling not so good. The plant is an emetic and is used to induce vomiting (hence vomitoria). In my state of American overdose on green I’m thinking that I’m being forced to consume too too many berries, and too much green is making me sick…

That said, the Yaupon Holly is an attractive native species that can grow as tall as 20′. It is the only native plant that contains caffeine and its berries are an important food source for songbirds. The Yaupon Holly is generally found along the coastal plain and as far north as Washington DC.

Part I.

While perusing through some of my old books, I came upon a very worn but intact and unmarked copy of the Maurice Sendak classic Where the Wild Things Are. The image of monsters dancing under moonlight with claws and jagged smiles clicked in my imagination. And there it was; the drawing that captured and coined my own and so many other kids sense of the wild. Something so frightening and liberating, lawless and exciting, and colored in a way to reveal the mystery of reflected sunlight off the earths only moon. Magic.

Between my aunts, my father, my sister and myself the book has surely been read 1000 times. For the first time I noticed, across the floral interior cover board, the date on the first page, copyright 1963… a first printing of the first edition.

Part II

In My Backyard is a strange place. It is a leftover space; the interior of a large block that was apparently never considered. There are many spaces like this around the Capitol Hill neighborhood, and likely hundreds more in the entirety of dc.

All kinds of odd things happen beyond my backyard and various people have taken claim to this hole in the grid. In an attempt to amplify the wild of my back door nature I think that this space, as well as the many others, could use something more. So how to build upon the wild of this patch? One idea might be to plant it as densely as possible with native coniferous plants and attract as many birds as possible… a kind of neighborhood bird palace protected by a moat of humans. As protectors of our many two winged friends we could make baths from satellite dishes, and give the birds selection of our leftover cereals. We could watch them enjoy breakfast from our backyard tables and wonder if they enjoy music. Other Wild Things would join them and suddenly the dead center would swell and spill out to colonize the dying street trees, the mosaic extending from castle to castle.

If you have been thinking about installing a solar hot water heater in your home, or putting solar photovolataic (pv) panels on your roof in the District, time is running out to be eligible for federal tax credits. Many states like California and New Jersey (yes NJ - the Saudi Arabia of flat, pv friendly roofs) offer generous rebates and incentives for homeowners that want to go solar. Unfortunately DC does not have a rebate program, so Washingtonians interested in installing solar technology rely on federal tax incentives to make it more cost friendly. The bad news is that the federal tax incentives that allow homeowners to get a credit for up to $2000 of what they invest on solar is set to expire at the end of this year. After the initial investment, solar can help DC residents save on their electric bills because of net metering policies that require utilities to credit customers that generate more electricity than they use themselves.

The federal solar incentives, as well as incentives for wind, geothermal and other forms of clean energy fell victim last year to the oil industry, who didn’t want to give up any of their billions of dollars in federal subsidies to help fund clean energy. Apparently record breaking profits doesn’t keep the oil industry happy enough. The solar industry, environmentalists, and investors are all rallying together to save the clean energy incentives.

To find out more about solar incentives in your state (or District) check out the Database of State Incentives for Renewables & Efficiency at www.dsireusa.org.

***Update***

Democrats in the House of Representatives are ticked off about oil industry profits as well and are going to bring up an energy tax package later this week. The bill  will extend the solar and other renewable energy and energy efficiency tax credits and pay for it by rolling back oil subsidies. The vote is expected on Thursday.

going underground…

There is a fungal network of Armillaria ostoye in Oregon that covers an estimated 2200 acres below ground. The fruits from such an organism appear in sporadic places above ground as mushrooms, stars in a massive galaxy of tentacle like rizomorphs that compete under the soil surface for water and nutrients. There are simply so many things happening that our eyes can not see. In some ways it is better not to see, but rather to imagine this vast network of the Honey mushroom taking over entire states. There are, however, of course other competitors. The Quaking Aspen (Populus tremuloides) might be one. In variable fashion, this tree takes over huge tracts of land by sending out suckers; new trees born from the root system that are all connected as one organism. The clonal colony of Quaking Aspens in Utah named “Pando” is estimated at 47,000 stems (trees) covering 43 hectares with an average stem age of 130 years. The collection of stems are all born from one genetic individual.

American Beech (Fagus grandiflora) has its own strategy. This copper beauty uses allelopathy which is difficult to remember word that means it releases biomolecules into the soil that inhibit the growth of other plants. By doing so, the Beech trees are able thrive with limited competition. The result is limited but beautiful expanses of copper colored leaves dominating an otherwise leafless hardwood forest view. Why the American Beech tree is able to hold its leaves longer than others, I can’t say I know, but under and above, they are working hard to gain valuable ground… even without a super Tuesday to await.

Living in DC, I have felt inundated with Presidential primary gossip, news, and innuendo. And despite being a bit of a political junkie, I have found myself starting to tune it all out. Then, on my way to Union Station last week, I had a truly inspiring conversation about the Presidential primaries with my cab driver - a new citizen originally from Ethiopia. He shared my frustrations about the non-stop coverage. And he also shared my support for John Edwards who had dropped out the day before. But now he was whole heartedly endorsing Obama - and I assume sharing his new enthusiasm with everyone who happened to enter his cab. He spoke with contagious excitement about how this election could really change things in America. “You can see it in the young kids voting,” he said. Then he shared his reason for supporting Obama.

“Some people think change is just going to come knock on the door. Change doesn’t work like that. Change is like a mushroom that starts underground and in the right conditions will spread out of control from one place to another.”

Obama, he said, was the mushroom, and that the conditions were right. While I haven’t decided which of the two remaining Democratic candidates to throw my support behind in next week’s primary, I can only hope that my sage cab driver was correct that change was in the ground. If I do choose to vote for Obama, he will have my cab driver to thank for it.

For such an ominous sounding place as the Forbidden City, the buildings sure are cordial. This is one of my favorite translations I came upon while traveling in China. Smart building. It seems that a building that can fix itself makes a great deal of sense…Or at least solve problems before they become dangerous or simply inefficient… detect ice and melt it, detect rain and release soap, detect fire and contain it, etc. I don’t know if nano-robots that maintain and repair our buildings will prove possible or self generating materials such as crystals will patch mortar and bricks from water, but it seems increasingly probable that humans will spend less time cleaning and fixing. I can only hope that buildings that renovate themselves are as polite as the one I saw in Beijing.

tasting yellow and Les Fluers du Mal…

A story on the radio this morning described a rare condition called synesthesia in which people see words as colors, feels sounds or even taste shapes. Synesthetes of note include Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Paul Klee, and Richard Feynman. Baudelaire’s Flowers of Evil and Paul Klee’s The Goldfish are certainly two of the more beautiful things in this world and I can’t help but wonder if smelling colors=creative genius. While it isn’t known exactly what causes the condition or how many people have it, it is clear that such people truly do experience crossings of the senses. While I’m afraid I can’t include myself in their company I am certain that the pale yellow of the flowers on a Wintersweet shrub will send me spiraling into my universe of memory searching for their smell. If you go out looking, it flowers in February around these parts, likes partial shade, and as another author noted turns back into a pumpkin come Spring.

Halving the number of days between December 21 and March 21 lands us on Tuesday February 5, 2008 sometime around noon. As this midwinter hump approaches I am curious about the use of seasons. While I know that “winter” and “summer” are created by the tilt in the Earth’s axis which places us in northern hemisphere closer or further from the Sun at different times of year resulting in variable temperatures; what I don’t know is where winter starts. I mean at what latitude do people call the season winter (for the english speaking world). Do other languages account for more than four seasons? There is of course the rainy season and the dry season in many places. Can seasons be named after colors? Certainly we could look at the color studies of Johannes Itten (page 23) and pick out the seasons quite easily…

In any event, the Red Twig Dogwood is a wonderful plant with particular winter interest that thrives in full sun and should be cut back at the end of each winter. It lives with the other Cornus species in the Dogwood collection at the National Arboretum and is tough to miss this time of year. Happy midwinter…

I am not as new to DC or Capitol Hill - I have been here over 2 years, but I seem to find new favorite places in the city every time I head to a neighborhood for the first time or revisit a park. So here are my top five places in the district, also in no particular order…

1. FDR Memorial. By far my favorite monument on the mall. The waterfalls and subtle power of the quotations and statues decorating the red granite “rooms” are simply beautiful. I have found the monument is best at night when the lights make the water even more peaceful and it is blissfully free of tourists. After dark is also the best time to enjoy the cherry blossoms along the Tidal Basin without the crowds.

Photo Credit: G. Alexander

2. The cheese stand at Eastern Market. Hill residents probably don’t need any direction here, but for anyone who hasn’t spent the better part of 30 minutes camped out at Bowers Fancy Dairy Products sampling the “Cheese from All Parts of the World,” you should head to the market soon. My personal favorites are the Parmesan-gouda (formaly called Perano, I believe) and the drunken goat, which is a goat cheese infused with wine. yum. This image is from the South Hall location the shop has been located in since 1964. After the fire at Eastern Market this past summer, they relocated to the temporary East Hall. New location, but same great conversation, and of course same great cheese.

3. Meridian Hill Park (aka Malcolm X Park). This dramatic park with an Italian flair is set set above the hill on 16th street just north of U street and is one of my favorite places near my old neighborhood in Columbia Heights. Go here to relax in the sun, or better yet, catch one of the weekly drum circle gatherings late on a Sunday afternoon. The drum circle has been going on since the 1950s and attracts professional musicians. I also hear it is one of the best places in the district to watch the 4th of July fireworks.

4. “Awakening” statue at Hains Point. I have to admit that I have only been here once, but have always wanted to go back. This eery statue of a giant trying to claw it’s way out of the earth is way off the beaten path in East Potomac Park. Hains Point juts out into the Potomac river just across from National Airport. No picture here because you have to see it for yourself.

5. Rock Creek Park. This is my favorite spot to go running and I always leave desperately wanting a puppy like everyone else. I can’t tell you where exactly to go in the Park because I seem to get lost every time I visit. I encourage you to take an afternoon and do the same.

Ahhh yes… the elusive Paw Paw tree. I first learned about the PawPaw tree in my plants and ecology class as one of the 300+ plants we met. I’ve seen patches of seedlings on a stream bank in central Virginia, searched out specimens after dark in the Chicago Botanic Garden, and read stories of George Washington enjoying it as his favorite fruit. But I didn’t get to taste a PawPaw until Kate and I discovered some ripe fruit on a patch in Theodore Roosevelt Island this past fall. IT IS DELICIOUS. For those of you unaware of the delights of a paw paw, it comes from the PawPaw tree which is a US native understory tree that grows up to about 25′ in height. The fruit is a little smaller than a mango and tastes something like a cross between banana and vanilla custard. IT IS DELICIOUS. This of course is very confusing to me as we continue to ship bananas and similar fruits many miles to keep our cereals adorned. While it’s true that many of the native PawPaw trees have been lost to development, our landscape is still fit to grow them from the Midwest to the East Coast (the PawPaw tree is native to 25 states). I have this story in my head where at some point early in our post European conquest development someone says that he or she likes bananas better than paw-paws and poof…we start jumping through hoops to procure this exotic fruit only to forever neglect the backyard pawpaw. I would love to start seeing the now elusive paw paw on our grocery shelves but have yet to come by them. While their are people working on cultivars that offer more, better tasting fruit, there doesn’t seem to be too many folks working on the agricultural potential of this darling. The PawPaw Foundation is something of a lonely, but hopefully viable voice.

Although somewhat new to the Washington D.C. area I have gathered a few diamonds, equally through investigation and recommendation, and thought I would share. These are 5 of my favorite places so far (in no particular order);

1. The Museum of the American India food court Mitsitam Cafe

From the Museum website…

“Mitsitam” means “Let’s eat!” in the Native language of the Delaware and Piscataway peoples. The museum’s Mitsitam Native Foods Café enhances the museum experience by providing visitors the opportunity to enjoy the indigenous cuisines of the Americas and to explore the history of Native foods. The café features Native foods found throughout the Western Hemisphere, including the Northern Woodlands, South America, the Northwest Coast, Meso America, and the Great Plains. Each food station depicts regional lifeways related to cooking techniques, ingredients, and flavors found in both traditional and contemporary dishes. While seated in the café, visitors can look out a wall of windows to view the Native habitat and water features of the museum’s landscaping.

2. The Robert and Arlene Kogod Courtyard at the National Portrait Gallery

The Norman Foster designed courtyard opened on November 18, 2007. The architecture and exposure is intensely elegant and the sheets of water on the stone floor is like a magnet. Photos don’t do this place justice… go see it! (the museum is quite good as well)

3. Venice

It’s not quite Venezia, but its as close as I’ve seen. I only lived in Venice for a few months, but it’s not an easy place to forget. The landscape is so wonderfully layered in section from the tree trunk foundations to the pink and blue sky. Canaletto does the latter with unmatched skill at the National Gallery.

4. Dumbarton Oaks

If you are going to pay to see a garden, it may as well be as beautiful as this one. Although relatively small, the garden is incredibly rich. You can download a copy of Beatrice Farrand’s plant notebook for the garden here, and note the changes since it was built. When I become a kabillionaire I plan to have a personal orangery similar to the one at Dumbarton.

5. The capitol columns at the National Arboretum

The columns were moved here in 1990 after being stored since 1958 following the addition to the East portico of the Capitol. The site was chosen by Russel Page. It’s a Room With a View you don’t often get.

“The instant I’d finished, I heard a ga-Zump!

I looked.

I saw something pop out of the stump

of the tree I’d chopped down. It was sort of a man.

Describe him?… That’s hard. I don’t know if I can.

He was shortish. And oldish.

And brownish. And mossy.

And he spoke with a voice

that was sharpish and bossy.

“Mister!” he said with a sawdusty sneeze,

“I am the Lorax. I speak for the trees.

I speak for the trees, for the trees have no tongues.

And I’m asking you, sir, at the top of my lungs”-

he was very upset as he shouted and puffed-

“What’s that THING you’ve made out of my Truffula tuft?”

-from The Lorax
TM by Dr. Seuss Enterprises, L.P. 1971