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One

My Grain Journey

Like most home growers, I started as a L traditional flower enthusiast. Now, twenty years into my life as a gardener, my approach has evolved. Most importantly, I want my act of gardening to improve the environment in which I live. To do that, I have had to re-evaluate my use of fertilizers, herbicides and pesticides and prioritize soil improvement above all else. It was through these studies that I first became aware of grains and how valuable they could be for making my garden flourish, naturally.

To start this story I have to first explain how I came to be “the Crazy Grain Lady,” with an 850-square-foot area of my front lawn turned into a grain bed. It didn’t start off that way. In fact, when I was drawing plans for that initial (non-grain) garden installation in my front yard, I simply sited a few favorite small trees in a sweeping line to mimic the contour of the foundation landscape. I had seen this technique used to create a screen and divide a lawn into two defined zones, one viewed from the street and the other a private area near the house. Considering that our suburban lot is deep and rather narrow, this seemed a logical way to maximize planting space without eliminating too much turf.

When we broke ground on the garden in January, 2011, the trees were planted as individual specimens, free standing and not connected by a bed. After a few months of trying to maintain the constantly spreading centipede grass around them, my husband, David, and I decided it would be smarter to connect the tree wells with a small bed of native ornamental grasses, namely, Muhlenbergia capillaris, aka pink muhly grass. This would look beautiful and reduce our efforts to keep the turf from invading the roots of the newly planted trees. Plus, it was a native grass, so it would thrive, right? But first, we would need to dig up a lot of the invasive sod to make room for our muhly grass.

Pink muhly grass thrives in my dry landscape beds.

NOTE: Not every landscape endeavor is meant to be a DIY project! In this case, we hired a landscaper with a turf cutter who expertly removed the sod in perfect sections, ready to be transplanted elsewhere. Sure, it cost money, but it was done correctly and completed in one day. Honestly, the turf would still be there if we had decided to make this a do-it-yourself project. Having worked in the landscape industry for a number of years, I have learned a few things about working smart instead of hard. I cannot stress this enough: Hire a professional for the jobs that seem too big for you to do yourself. There are a number of reasons for this – namely, professionals have access to the correct equipment for the job at hand, and they know how to use these tools and complete a job quickly.

Aidan helped me measure the beds so they could be drawn to scale.

Once the sod was removed, I was left with a blank slate of bare sand. Have I mentioned I garden in a former tobacco field? Yes, I live on the sandy side of North Carolina, which has its benefits and drawbacks. One thing I never expected was how wet it would be living on sand. Sure, logically you think sand will drain fast, and yes that is true, unless you live where the water table is very high. Here, we live with the opposite of gravity, known as hydrologic pressure, meaning water comes from below. When the water table is saturated, the soil is too. It makes sense that all of the surrounding cities have the word “spring” in their name, as after a heavy rainstorm water will literally spring out of the ground.

This reality led to many plant deaths, because for too long I was trying to use my conventional wisdom about drainage. Of course, from failures come insights, even when it takes longer than it should, and I am an expert at doing things the wrong way! That first spring after planting the pink muhly grass, I watched in dismay as each plant went dormant and never returned to life. Upon closer inspection, the roots had simply rotted and my dream of a showy fall border faded away. But I still had my specimen trees in my otherwise empty bed. It needed something beautiful to complete the design, something that would survive the realities of my soil. What to do next?

ALWAYS HAVE A PLAN B: That may have been the first time in my gardening life that I felt like I had a black thumb. Now, I hate that term and I try to never use it, but the truth is, when you spend your hard-earned money on plants that die, you feel like a failure. I struggled to come up with a plan B, until a chance meeting with Ros Creasy, my longtime role model and edible gardening guru. She was the first person to ever mention the idea of seasonal grains – and what a brilliant idea it was, although I didn’t know it at the time. That came later, when my friend Chip Hope, a senior lecturer at Appalachian State University and Director of the ASU Sustainable Development Farm, handed me a bag of wheat seed and challenged me to grow it.

I have never looked back.

Chip Hope introduced me to grains by sharing a bag of wheat seed.

I discover wheat

As a child growing up in the Midwest, I recall the faint shade of green in fields as the snow would melt, revealing the winter wheat that farmers had sown the prior autumn. It was a sign that spring would arrive – sometimes sooner than later. But beyond that insignificant observation, I never had to think about what came next.

Cheerios, Rice Krispies and oatmeal were staples for breakfast, and while I was amused by the cartoon mascots, I never once considered what I was eating or where it was grown. Like most people, I took for granted that grains were a part of my daily diet, filling me up and providing me with energy. I would devour macaroni and cheese, yet I was totally ignorant of an understanding of what pasta was. As far as I was concerned, it came from a box that was purchased at the grocery store. The end.

A DIGRESSION: Later in life, when I discovered the undeniably delicious flavor of beer, I was once again faced with the reality of ignorance. I hadn’t considered what malted barley actually was; it was just decoration for the bottle’s label.

As the “local” micro brewery scene expands across North America, does anyone ask, “Where was that barley grown?” or “How local is local?” Would beer drinkers even recognize a barley plant if they saw one?

But back to the wheat: I have a tendency to go overboard in the garden. What started off as a novel fascination quickly blossomed into a full-blown obsession. First of all, I had no idea wheat would be so pretty! Additionally, it was inexpensive and easy to grow. I quickly learned that wheat has a lot more to offer than just seasonal beauty.

MY FIRST GRAIN BED: As I was sowing that first crop of wheat seed, I didn’t know what to expect. It was the middle of December and the Carolina temperatures were dropping quickly. I don’t own a tractor, and as I prepared the space for that original suburban grain experiment I wondered if growing my own wheat was an effort in futility. What would I actually get out of it? Would my neighbors be offended? No one else was growing it, so there must be some reason why it has never been part of a landscape, at least in my lifetime.

The bed or “wave” as we call it, is situated in full sun and bisects the front yard. It runs about 100 feet long by 8 feet wide and still includes the choice trees, which create the taller screening from the road. Inspired by the Serpentine planting at Chanticleer Garden, this bed creates two distinct areas: a street-facing lawn and shrub border and our private garden space closer to the house. This arrangement allows me to experiment in a way that is a perfect crossover from traditional landscape to agricultural cultivation. I am keen to keep the space tidy and be a good neighbor while providing a more conventional welcome for visitors.

Did you knew… wheat can improve your soil? The strong roots will break through compacted soil and act as a natural tiller! And what about using the hay as compost to improve your topsoil? Just mow the stalks in place and they will add essential organic matter that will feed your next crop. How about growing your own organic birdseed? Yep, grains do that too!

Much to my surprise, the seed germinated quickly, popping through the bare earth as bright green sprouts, an amazing contrast to the tan of the dormant centipede turf surrounding the bed. Every day, I would stand in amazement as the seedlings grew stronger, unaffected by the nightly frosts. Within two weeks, the green was so dominate it looked like spring at Christmas.

The winter months passed and the wheat continued to thrive. With longer days and spring rains, it stretched toward the sky. One day, flower stalks appeared and gently waved in the wind as their pollen floated about, ensuring an abundant harvest was on the horizon.

SO MUCH BEAUTY: It wasn’t until the wheat dried, which happened almost overnight, that I felt the strongest connection to God and country. Here in my suburban front yard, I had literal amber waves of grain, and I would bow down, camera in hand, totally fascinated by each seed that had developed. “America the Beautiful” would fill my head on repeat – and then I would stand at attention wondering, “What on earth do I do now?”

What I did was wake up very early in the morning, before the late spring temperatures rose into the 90s, and begin hand harvesting with my trusty Okatsune pruners. This was the most beautiful thing I had ever grown, so I carefully gathered each handful, wrapping a rubber band at the base, thinking of how I would make beautiful table arrangements with my newfound best friends. I had no intention of eating such a lovely plant! Five wheelbarrow loads and about a thousand Instagram posts later, I called my dear friend Erin Weston and declared I had her next product to offer at Weston Farms. Wheat would be the perfect complement to her gorgeous line of cut magnolia wreaths, garlands and bouquets. We both squealed with delight, as if we were the first people to ever discover the ornamental quality of a plant that has evolved for more than 10,000 years.

TOO BEAUTIFUL TO EAT? Of course, my logical, engineering-savvy husband decided we had to eat at least some of the harvest. New questions started to emerge: “How do we get the seed out? How do you refine it into flour?” Thus began the research on threshing, winnowing and grinding and how to do it with a modern sensibility in the suburbs, sans a combine. The more we learned, the more my obsession began to take over my being. All of my social media posts now included the hashtag #CrazyGrainLady. I needed to store each and every photo to reference back at a future date.

My dear friend Erin Weston of Weston Farms was delighted with the wheat harvest!

As promised, David rose to the challenge and created a homemade thresher consisting of a paint bucket with a lid, a drill and a long rod with chain link attached to the end (photo on page 153). We used box fans to blow the chaff away and invested in a hand crank grinder to achieve the ultimate goal of flour – all for a few zero-food-mile tortillas. Now this was eating local!

Harvesting my first wheat crop using hand pruners.

Admittedly, this is a lot of work, as many authentic experiences are. And though I would never expect most people to go to these lengths, I have been overwhelmed with the level of curiosity that people have expressed. I will also mention, if you are counting carbs and depriving yourself of your favorite meals, you can eat as much bread as you want if you grow your own wheat and then hand harvest, thresh and grind it – this is serious exercise!

“How much flour do you get?” That’s the first thing people ask. Surprisingly, you can yield significant amounts of flour from small amounts of square footage. We average 15 pounds of whole grain, organic, ground flour from an 850-square-foot landscape bed in our front yard! This realization of yield combined with beauty made me really consider the potential of the sunny, suburban landscapes that sprawl across the globe.

I experienced so much joy from growing wheat it didn’t seem fair that everyone wasn’t enjoying this same satisfaction of this beautiful plant. Not to mention the ease of growing, which would surely leave every person with the confidence of a green thumb. But more than that is the fascinating history of the evolution of grains and people.

Did you know… human beings first evolved into settlements as a result of cultivating grains?

In cultures across the globe, cereal crops are the defining characteristic for human settlement. Prior to the grain revolution, populations migrated seasonally, as hunting and gathering was the primary means of supplying food. When grain crops began to be cultivated, communities developed and the human experience was forever changed. Now fastforward 10,000 years and observe the lawns of suburban developments, covering more than 180 million acres across the United States. I see this land as untapped opportunities, full of potential to be cultivated in a way that would reduce food miles, increase our ability to sustainably manage land, eliminate food deserts and improve the nutritional quality of the food that we all consume.

Throughout this process I couldn’t help but wonder why a plant as beautiful and fundamental to life on earth as wheat would be absent from home gardens. How had novelty crops risen to commonplace while vital carbohydrates are ignored entirely by home gardeners and the local food movement?

POACEAE, THE GRASS FAMILY

Sometimes “grass” gets a bad wrap. Most people, including myself, take grass plants for granted. We eat them, we walk on them and of course we spend a lot of time mowing them! But here’s something that you may not know: Poaceae grasses and cereal grains are the third most important source of oxygen after trees and algae. An acre of turf produces more oxygen than an acre of rain forest! The plants of this large family are an extraordinary element of life on earth, providing so much more than just green turf!

It was then when I realized that wheat and other Poaceae (aka grass family) crops are not fundamentally part of the local, organic food movement. How could that be? Every farm-to-table restaurant event I have attended served bread, pasta and rice, yet sadly, when I started to enquire about the localness of those essential ingredients I was met with blank stares. It turns out there just aren’t many regional growers nowadays. In fact, these ubiquitous starches are outsourced from hundreds, if not thousands, of miles away and often have no certified organic verification. I began to reevaluate this expensive, sometimes pretentious movement that advertises the benefits of local, but delivers something far from it.

Here’s a thought: If every person in my neighborhood devoted just 1,000 square feet to grains (50 x 20 feet) we could supply our local bakery with over 1,000 pounds of organically grown, local flour. Alternative, gluten-free grains could also be grown to benefit the population suffering from allergies, intolerances and celiac disease. What would society look like if every neighborhood, office park, school and church played a role in the local food chain, simply by reducing the existing turf and making room for seasonal grain crops? I dream about things like this a lot.

THE CRAZY GRAIN LADY ON A MISSION: I set out to answer my questions and gain knowledge through seasonal experiments and research. I bought every variety of wheat seed I could get my hands on. And then I had a giant light bulb moment: Wheat was only one of many grains I could produce. Barley, corn, millet, oats, rice, rye and sorghum were all perfect candidates for seasonal development throughout my one-acre suburban foodscape – as well as pseudo-cereal grains like amaranth, buckwheat and quinoa. How had I lived all these years without realizing the potential of grains and pseudo-cereal crops?

(In this book, I give primary attention to six of these grains: barley, oats and wheat for the cool season; corn, rice and sorghum for the warm season.)

That was truly the point of no return. Soon, every conversation started with “Have you ever grown grains?” followed by an enthusiastic description of every single quality they embrace. When I decided to write this book, I was met with funny looks, eye rolls and polite disdain. More than a few friends offered comments such as, “Sure Brie, you and the eight other people in the world that care about local wheat,” and, “Don’t you see, carbs make people fat! They are on their way out of the modern diet.” Still, I persisted, because I knew this book needed to be written.

What I’ve learned since that first grain bed

There’s more to report about my first experimental wheat crop, and in the years since with a whole variety of grains. Managing this garden bed space has proven to be very easy.

• I sow twice a year, once with cool-tolerant grain crops and again in summer with heat-loving varieties. The seed germinates in place and has dense ground cover, thus eliminating weed pressure. It is irrigated only when necessary and is managed with all-organic products. Compared to every other edible I grow, grains are the easiest and lowest maintenance, and visually provide the greatest impact. If I were to plant this space in a mix of traditional home garden vegetables like tomatoes, peppers and eggplant, it would require a great deal more time, attention and fertility. (This is not to say that I don’t do my share of interplanting with veggies and grains. They play well together!)

Sow densely to reduce weed pressure.

• I cover the ground. Another lesson learned over the years is the importance of engaging the entire ground plane with plants. This is truly the critical component for lowering overall maintenance and reducing the need for herbicides. You see, when all of the ground is covered there is limited opportunity for weeds to establish themselves. This is not a new idea, nor is it exclusive to food crops. In fact, this idea of ground plane coverage is the new mantra for modern-day landscaping, from bioswales and green infrastructure design to annual beds maintained along the highway. If you really want to stop using herbicides you need to cover the open mulch space with plants of your choosing.

• I bask in the beauty. I love how grasslike plants create a dynamic landscape with kinetic appeal – another important aspect of the role grains play when used as garden accents. Like most people, I am attracted to these plants. I adore their structure, color, texture; watching them blow in the breeze instantly lowers my blood pressure. Though I am determined to focus on the utility that plants provide, I can’t escape the draw of the aesthetic. And we shouldn’t have to. This is not an either/or situation. One of the great advantages of being a gardener in the 21st century is we can explore the many attributes that a plant has to offer. Grains are no exception.

REINVENTING THE LANDSCAPE: What I love most about cultivating annual grains is the opportunity to reinvent the landscape beds twice a year. With thoughtful crop rotations and interesting plant combinations I can create high impact color and textural interest while growing something of meaningful harvest. This strategy will also improve the soil that I grow in. As a horticulturist, I strive to be practical in how I apply plants to the world around me. And that is exactly what grains provide: practicality, beauty and a will to live that even a certified black thumb can’t kill.

It didn’t take me long to expand past the wave bed and into my foundation landscape and property borders. Now, I plant seasonal grains in every sunny spot that is available. I am never disappointed by their performance and with each crop I learn new lessons on how to be a better steward to the Earth.

I sometimes wonder what my life would be like if I hadn’t been handed that bag of wheat seed from my friend Chip. At the time I had no idea what a profound difference that seed would make to me as gardener. Before growing grains I struggled with poor soil and the disease and insect infestations that are symptomatic of this common issue. My plant palette, though diverse, was ordinary and there was nothing particularly unique about my design style. I spent countless hours watering and fertilizing, time that I would never be able to spare now as my career has evolved.

My identity will forever be woven with grains, which is why I am proud to be the Crazy Grain Lady. It is my sincere wish that by sharing my grain journey you too will take a chance, sow some seed and reap the harvest of these crops that have been essential to human evolution. ■