I can’t move. The last thing I remember was sipping tea and munching on a health-nut bar. Now I appear to be lying on the floor, immobile. I can just turn my head and—what? I’m covered in a web of threads staked into the ground.
“You’re under arrest!” cries a tiny voice.
What? Who’s talking to me? OMG, there’s a miniature person on my chest brandishing a tiny pitchfork! What was in that health-nut bar?
“I beg your pardon?” I say. My voice sounds strangely loud.
“There will be no pardons for destroyers of the new growth forests!” peeps my little captor. She looks like an architectural scale model figurine of a Bolshevik in red kerchief and apron; she raises her pitchfork, and a swarm of tiny people advance up my chest. Some are holding signs reading “No Clear Cutting,” some are holding tiny leaves the scale of umbrellas to their tiny size.
“Are those sprouts?” My mind is reeling, trying to sort it all out.
“No!” comes a collective cry, “Microgreens are not sprouts!” My red-kerchiefed captor puts a foot up on my sweater button as if it were a stump and lectures, “Sprouts are seeds that are usually germinated in water out of direct light. Microgreens are grown in soil and light until they reach the cotyledon stage. They grow quicker than you can say Johnny Swift, but then they’re cut down by your lot!”
“Listen,” I say, “microgreens in The FruitGuys’ TakeHome cases are sustainably harvested and usually grown in greenhouses. None of your ”˜forests’ have been harmed in the process.” As I instinctively make air quotes with my fingers, I break some of the threads and accidentally knock a few mini demonstrators down.
“Why do you giants like to eat our forests?” asks Little Red.
“Microgreens are zesty and have great texture,” I reply. “They bring a vibrancy to salads and sandwiches and are a lovely garnish. They can be grown from seeds like amaranth, arugula, basil, beets, cabbage, celery, chard, chervil, cilantro, cress, fennel, kale, mustard, parsley, radish, sorrel, tatsoi, and more. Any combination can give microgreens a sparkling flavor of pepper, nutmeg, lavender, or dill.”
“Hmm,” says Little Red, scratching her chin. “Wanna give us a lift to the old-growth broccoli forest demonstration then?” A true activist never gives up.
Storage: Use these delicate greens as soon as possible. Keep unused greens refrigerated in an airtight container for up to a week.