Tying Cauliflower

For a common vegetable, the cauliflower is high maintenance.

It asks a lot — first, a long growing season that resists direct seeding, so it must be transplanted. Cauliflower does not like it hot; it wants plenty of moisture and nutrition. If the farmer can arrange a splash of boron, so much the better. Each cauliflower wants plenty of room and requires dedicated weed control.

Finally, when the crop is a field of deep green hues, anchored so firmly in the rich earth, its broad leaves have been satisfied. Down deep within, the desired “fruit” takes shape: The cauliflower forms.

And now you … you are not done. You must tie it.

To tie cauliflower is to protect the forming head from direct sunlight. The resultant curd is bright as snow, firm but tender, and never bitter. Tying also protects the head from frost, windburn, dirt and field debris.

Tying involves rubber bands, not string. You stoop, bundle the largest outer leaves in your arms; as you draw them upward and inward, the long leaves take the shape of a protective dome. You narrow your grip until it is just your hands with a squeeze hold on the leaf tips.

Not releasing in the least, you must, with one hand, roll a large rubber band off the wrist of the other hand. Then, quickly, snap the band downward, where its elasticity will replace that of your hand — and when you let go, the neat package holds.

Farming on small farms is largely done by hand, which means that independent manual energy and decision-making are essential and inevitable. Asparagus worries the feet and lower back. Cucumbers and beans take an unsettling toll on your knees. Tomato harvest fatigues the biceps and shoulder regions and also can cause issues with neck and elbows.

Tying cauliflower, the fussy, late-season chore, will chill and cramp your fingers. All 10 strain, spanning outward from a dainty limit, so the whole hand may encompass and bind the rugged plant. Do this over and over, and your hands grow shiny and bright red; tomorrow they will be chapped.

Yes, there are at least a hundred farm jobs harder than tying cauliflower, but because this one comes at the end of the season, the discomfort need not be ignored. It can, in fact, be celebrated.