A Place for Pollinators

Friday, June 30, 2006

Coreopsis tinctoria

I always enjoy watching the bees that visit the flowers I planted in my garden; I feel good about giving them a place to do their thing. Maybe it's because I know that the population of honeybees has declined so much in recent years (by as much as 50 percent), and pollinators in general are having a hard time because of pesticide use and habitat loss. I think I'm especially attuned the habitat factor because I live in a city. When I'm in the country, I expect to see bees, butterflies, and other pollinators such as hummingbirds. But to see pollinators in an urban place -- and to take the time to really look at them up close -- is something more rare and special.

Takoma Gardener recently posted a photo of a bee house -- basically a birdhouse-like box with smaller holes -- which can be set out to provide a protected nesting place for bees. She also mentioned some interesting details about bees, including the fact that beekeeping is banned in Washington, D.C., which I had never heard before. (And I never really thought about it, either.) I wonder why it's banned. Not that I'm thinking of taking up beekeeping or anything, but I just wonder what could be so bad that makes it illegal.

Anyway... what I would like to do is find a few more bee-friendly plants to add to my garden next year. Bee Balm is one that's been on my wish list for awhile; my mom offered to give me some from her garden the next time I see her.

For other ideas, I found a great guide to urban bee gardens, by UC Berkeley. For anyone who really wants to get into the specifics of which plants attract particular bees, they have a very detailed guide on beneficial, bee-attracting plants for the spring and summer seasons.

For now, the bees seem to be very happy with my coreopsis flowers. They also enjoyed my larkspurs, lamb's ears, and bachelor buttons. And later this summer, they'll have a feast with the basil flowers. It's always a dilemma for me when it comes time for deadheading the basil; they love the flowers so much, so I always have to leave some for the bees.

[Read more about saving pollinators and attracting pollinators to the garden.]

After the Storm

Thursday, June 29, 2006

I'm happy to report that the garden, for the most part, weathered the storm fairly well. I lost two dahlia plants, which I'm sad about, but I'm grateful that it wasn't worse. The dahlia stems appear to have been snapped off at the roots, but the tubers can probably be rescued and saved for next year.

My lobelia took a beating, too. The plants were covered in blossoms on Saturday...

...and now they're nearly bald. Given some time, though, I'm sure they will bloom again this summer.

There is also a noticeable amount of erosion in one of our vegetable beds. It's going to take a few loads of compost to re-build the soil, but it will be all right.

On a walk through the rest of the community garden, I noticed that some of the other plots were much worse. There was one that had puddles in it, and several had areas that were completely saturated and spongy.

I also noticed that some peoples' tomato plants were in pretty bad shape -- all wilted and droopy. I wonder if it's because the stems got broken, or because they got completely waterlogged?

We are lucky; our tomato plants remain in great shape, and it looks as if they didn't lose any blossoms or fruit.

Through all of these days of rain, it amazes me how things have just 'kept on keepin' on'. I found that my wax beans have started to ripen...

...and our first sunflower came out to shine.

Soggy

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

More than 11 inches of rain fell on Washington, D.C., since last Friday night. Thank goodness it's finally over. Today we have bright sunny skies, but I haven't gotten out to the plot yet. I haven't been there since Sunday when we got caught in the downpour.

I am nervous about the status of things over there. We received an e-mail from the president of the garden saying that many of the pathways around the plots have been washed out. He's calling on everyone to pitch in an help re-build the paths with wood chips. So I wonder what this means for everyone's plots. We had just planted some new herbs on Sunday; I hope they haven't all washed away. And the tomatoes... I especially hope the tomatoes are all right. I am hoping to get over there this evening to see how everything is doing.

This Cabbage Wants to be Pickled -- Part One

Monday, June 26, 2006

With World Cup going on, and another enthusiastic win for the Germans on Saturday, I've been having cravings for German food lately. Brats with mustard, schnitzel, spaetzle, potato pancakes... and Rotkohl (red cabbage).

I had three red cabbage seedlings that I planted in the garden last fall. The plants overwintered and two of them bolted earlier this spring; the third one developed a nice, plump, beautifully-colored cabbage.

Last year, we also grew one cabbage, but it was extremely hard and fibrous -- so much so that it wasn't very pleasant to eat fresh. To avoid a potentially similar situation this year, I long ago earmarked this year's cabbage for pickling. Besides, I absolutely love pickled red cabbage -- especially made mom's way with apples, raisins, and cloves.


So here I am trying to pickle a cabbage on my own, but I've never done this before. I found that Kitchen Gardeners International has instructions for making homemade sauerkraut. Their version calls for using only cabbage and salt (no vinegar), but I was not so keen on having a vat of cabbage fermenting in my kitchen (partly because we have limited space, and partly because... I don't want to have a vat of fermenting cabbage in my kitchen). This doesn't mean I wouldn't be up for trying it at some point, but I decided to go with this recipe instead.


Yesterday we harvested the cabbage -- just before we got totally drenched in a downpour of hard rain. No sense in trying to run the couple of blocks back to the apartment -- we got a thorough soaking -- and ended up just walking barefoot, like a couple of wet noodles, with our soggy cabbage, herbs, and a few heads of garlic in tow. This will definitely be a scene I recall when I sit down to evenually eat this pickled red cabbage. We were in good spirits about the rain, though, because it reminded us of the time we spent in Costa Rica... during the rainy season. Refreshing!


OK, so back to the cabbage. We shredded it and layered it in a bowl, pouring lots of salt on each layer. I weighted it down with a canister of flour, and now it has to sit there on the counter for 24 hours. The next step will be to add boiled vinegar and seal it in jars. We don't have a canning system and we don't do the whole hot water bath thing, so we're going to put the jars in the fridge. Stay tuned to see how it works out.

I'd love to hear from anyone else who's tried making pickled red cabbage. (Does anyone make their own?) And are we doing this right?

Tarragon & Chocolate -- Who Knew?

Saturday, June 24, 2006

This is the first year we have tarragon in the garden. Michael tried to grow it from seed, but nothing ever germinated so we ended up buying a small plant that was about 4 inches tall by 2 inches wide. It has since branched out quite a lot and we now have plenty to cook with.

Tarragon has a flavor that is similar to anise or licorice, so I was wondering what I could make with it. I know it's a nice complement to chicken or seafood, but I wondered about using it in a dessert. (Leave it to me to think about dessert before the main course.)

Searching around the Web, I found that Chockylit's Cupcake Bakeshop has a delectable-looking recipe for Chocolate Tarragon Cupcakes with Tarragon Cream Cheese Frosting. These looked and sounded absolutely divine to me, but I was worried about having chocolate cupcakes in the apartment all weekend. I know I wouldn't have enough willpower to refrain from eating too many of them. I have such a weakness for any kind of chocolate cake, and with cream cheese frosting, too? Forget it.

I was really intrigued by the tarragon-chocolate combination, though, so I continued my search and found a recipe for Chocolate Tarragon Biscotti. I thought I could show more restraint with these, and perhaps even have them around to enjoy for several days.

The recipe I used is by Renee Van Hoy of Renee's Tea Party and can be found here. I made a few changes to it -- adding more tarragon and using only half the sugar.

Here is the recipe, with my modifications.

Chocolate Tarragon Biscotti
2 cups flour
1/4 cup dutch process cocoa powder
1/4 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. kosher salt
1/2 cup sugar
2 TBsp. finely chopped fresh tarragon leaves
3 eggs, lightly beaten
1 TBsp. canola oil
1 tsp. vanilla extract
2/3 cup dark chocolate chips

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line a cookie sheet with a silicon mat or parchment paper. Combine all the dry ingredients in a large bowl. In a separate bowl, combine the eggs, oil and vanilla. Add the wet mixture and the chocolate chips to the dry ingredients. Mix until combined. Turn the dough onto a piece of wax paper and divide into two portions. Knead each portion a few times and place on the baking sheet. Shape each portion into a log approximately 8 inches long, two inches wide. Bake for 25 minutes. Remove from oven and let stand for a few minutes. Place on a cutting board and trim off the ends. Slice the logs into 3/4 inch slices. Put the slices back on the cookie sheet and bake for 5 - 10 minutes more. Longer cooking will result in a crisper cookie. Makes 20 biscotti. They will keep for several days in a sealed container.

These were so delicious and smelled so good! They taste very similar to an anise cookie, but are even better because of the chocolate. I will definitely make these again.

This post is part of Weekend Herb Blogging, which is being hosted this week by Virginie of Absolutely Green in Nantes, France. Visit her site on Monday for a recap of everyone's recipes.

Gifts from Juan

Friday, June 23, 2006

One of my favorite aspects of belonging to a community garden is that is isn't just all about growing vegetables; it's about growing and cultivating connections with people, too. If Michael and I had a place of our own, we'd be able to create a garden -- free of certain rules and regulations -- but we know it wouldn't be the same. We would miss the people who make the garden the community that it is. We would miss the informal chats over the fence, the gardening tips freely given, and the sharing of extra seedlings, cuttings, and freshly picked vegetables. We would miss the connections with gardeners who've come from all parts of the world -- Portugal, Greece, and China -- to meet in this urban oasis and share something in common. We enjoy all the different personalities and styles of doing things; we learn a lot. And for these reasons, it's truly the people who enrich our gardening experience in so many ways.

One very special person at our garden is Juan. He's an Argentinean-Italian man, maybe in his late 50's or so, who's been gardening almost all of his life. He has one of the best, most meticulously cared for plots in the entire community garden. He grows vegetables and herbs that leave the rest of us sighing with envy and admiration. When everyone else is struggling with a particular vegetable, Juan is sure to have a bumper crop.

So the quirky thing about Juan is that, even though he has the most amazing vegetable garden, he does not cook. Not one bit, apparently. He works at a hotel where he claims to get plenty to eat. So we think he just enjoys the challenge of growing the very best vegetables -- and then giving them away. His joy comes in the sharing and giving to others.

Last Saturday, I saw Juan and he asked me, "How are your beans coming along? And your onions? Do you have onions?"

"Well, my beans are just getting blossoms now and, no, I don't have any onions" I replied. And before I could blink, he gave me a handful beans and a beautiful Vidalia onion, plus peppers and a bunch of fragrant Greek oregano.

So I always wonder what we can give back to Juan. We offer things from our garden but he almost always declines, saying he's not a cook. The one thing he did accept without hesitation, however, was a bulb of German garlic we grew last year. He saved it and planted it in his garden last fall. A few weeks ago, he stopped by to tell us he had a wonderful garlic harvest.

These are the gifts shared among gardening neighbors... and a reminder of how it's the people who make this garden the special place that it truly is.

Juan's green beans and Greek oregano prepared with shallots and red wine vinaigrette.

Fresh Basil in a Sweet Corn Frittata

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Our basil plants are loving the hot weather we've been having. And I am loving that they are happy, because they're producing plenty of leaves for us to pick now.


Meanwhile, I've been noticing that sweet corn is starting to make its appearance in the grocery stores, so I decided to try a recipe that marries fresh corn with our new crop of basil. I made this wonderful corn frittata, which calls for a tablespoon of freshly chopped basil leaves.


This was so easy to make; it's a great dish for summer. The basil in this was just fabulous... not to mention the smoked mozzarella. (Why had I never discovered smoked mozzarella before? It is so good. Dangerously good!) And I loved how the sweetness and crispness of the sweet corn made this a bit different than other frittatas I've tried.

The recipe is by Deborah Madison, author of The Greens Cookbook. I found it in an old issue of Cooking Light magazine.

Fresh Corn Frittata with Smoked Mozzarella
1.5 cups fresh corn kernels (about 3 ears)
1/4 cup shredded smoked mozzarella cheese
1 tablespoon chopped fresh basil
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
5 large egg whites, lightly beaten
2 large eggs, lightly beaten

Preheat broiler. Coat a medium pan with cooking spray. Add corn and saute for 5 minutes. Combine corn, 2 tablespoons cheese, basil, and the remaining ingredients in a bowl and stir. Heat a skillet over medium heat. Coat pan with cooking spray; add the corn mixture. Cover and cook 5 minutes or until almost set. Sprinkle with 2 tablespoons cheese. Wrap handle of pan with foil. Broil for 5 minutes or until set and browned. Makes 4 servings.

Swirls of Summer

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Spun in gold by the rays of the sun: A tribute to Summer Solstice.

Eating From the Garden: Potatoes

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Earlier this month, when we pulled our test potatoes, they were still very tiny. But over the weekend we discovered that the plants were beginning to turn brown, so we figured they were ready to harvest.


These are fingerling potatoes and -- oh, my goodness -- they are sooooooo good! I am somewhat of a fanatic about potatoes (I mean, who doesn't like potatoes, right?), but these were something exceptional.

Last night I roasted a batch in a few glugs of olive oil and sprinkled them with salt and pepper and a few sprigs of fresh rosemary. That first bite went from the slightly crisp-taut skin and gave way to a wonderful, buttery-smooth -- "I can't believe how good this is" -- texture. Simple and uncomplicated -- just good potatoes. It took serious effort on my part to refrain from eating the whole bunch!


I reserved some of the uncooked ones, which I'd like to try next with fried sage. Our sage plants are going gangbusters in the garden right now, so this will be a great use for them.

Take the Community Garden to the Roof?

Monday, June 19, 2006

There's an interesting discussion going on right now, a week after the eviction of the South Central Farmers in Los Angeles: Can a community garden be built on the roof of the warehouse that's planned for the garden's former space?

(My building's roof.)

Check out today's article at Treehugger and the discussion that's going on over at sustainablog. It sounds like a fabulous idea. The landowner could have his warehouse, and the displaced farmers would get a new garden. The question is: Is it feasible?

Building a rooftop garden is apparently not quite the same as building a green roof, with all the considerations that must be given to the amount of weight bearing on the building, and the drainage, etc. But I think there are engineers who could figure this out.

Just a few weeks ago, my husband and I were talking about how great it would be if we could get rooftop gardens on buildings in D.C. -- like our apartment building, for example. Sure, it would add extra expense to building, but think of the potential benefits. Greened rooftops would help filter and cool the urban air, we'd potentially have less runoff going into the gutters and into the Chesapeake Bay (where I really want the blue crabs to survive!), and there would be a social benefit as well -- a place for people to gather and meet while tending a garden or just enjoying a green spot in the midst of concrete.

Maybe it all sounds a bit too idealistic, but... Why not? Do you think rooftop gardens would work?

Garlic Harvest!

Sunday, June 18, 2006

On Friday, I mentioned that it would soon be time to harvest the garlic. Well that moment came sooner than I was expecting, as last night, we decided to go for it.

This is the first bulb we pulled. It was plucked from its earthly womb at about 9:00 p.m. last night -- the only time it was cool enough yesterday to do any serious gardening work.


We decided to pull half of our crop and leave the rest to grow a little while longer. We cleaned these up and now they'll hang in our kitchen for at least a month to dry. In the meantime, our apartment is perfumed by a wonderful fresh garlicky scent. We don't mind it... but I hope we aren't reeking of garlic when we walk out the door!

The garlic is perhaps my most favorite of all the edible things we grow in the garden. There is just something very special about it. Maybe it's because it takes so long to grow. It's hidden under the ground all winter long and we can't see how it's coming along until June. Digging for it is like finding hidden treasures, and once those treasures are unearthed, we'll be able to enjoy them -- one by one -- for the next several months in the dishes we cook. I just love everything about garlic.

Oh, Baby!

Saturday, June 17, 2006

I was casually watering the tomato plants yesterday evening when I saw it -- our first tomato of the year -- a tiny San Marzano. This one aspires to mingle with our garlic and herbs when it grows up -- putting all of its tomatoey goodness into becoming a savory, mouthwatering sauce.

A Prelude to Garlic

Friday, June 16, 2006

This is how the garlic crop looks these days. It shouldn't be long now -- maybe another week or two -- before we break ground and dig down to find those (hopefully) plump, papery-white gems. I can't wait.

Over the past couple of weeks, we've cut off the scapes. (For garlic-growing newbies out there, the scapes are the curly stalks that emerge when the plant is ready to form a flower bud.) So the theory goes that removing the scapes will allow the plant to put more energy into forming a bulb rather than a flower.

We use the scapes in stir-frys usually. The other day I chopped and fried a few in olive oil with red pepper flakes.


This became the foundation for a simple pasta dish topped with toasted walnuts, fresh basil and cheese. (Sorry, I ate all of the finished product before taking a photo. I was really hungry.)

Other uses for garlic scapes? The Washington Post recently suggested a recipe for Garlic Scape Pesto, which sounds like something I'd like to try. Kalyn, the creator of Weekend Herb Blogging, is also trying pesto, and she provides a helpful roundup of other scape-worthy menus she found around the Web. In addition, The Chocolate Lady posted a recipe for Fedelini, Walnuts, Chard and Garlic Scapes. That's one I'll keep in mind when my chard goes berserk again and puts me in another bolting vegetable conundrum.

There's a very short window of opportunity each year to enjoy scapes -- that's what makes them such a unique and special treat. For me, they're a tempting prelude to the main attraction that's soon to come.

Jack & Hammer, The Dynamic Drilling Duo

Thursday, June 15, 2006

A brightly decorated, masked visitor hams it up for the camera as he prepares to jackhammer his way into my bok choy. His twin buddy, Jack, the other half of the Dynamic Drilling Duo, waited in the wings to provide back-up support.

Now I'm not a bug-crusher type, nor am I squeamish about most insects (except Bullet Ants, which are another matter entirely) so I decided to let them be. As threatening as they looked, I didn't know what they were and I didn't know if they were "good guys" or "bad guys." In my view, all bugs get the benefit of the doubt and go into the "good" category, until I witness or hear something that makes me think otherwise. (Flea beetles, mosquitos, cockroaches = bad!) Besides, my two remaining bok choy plants are on their way out now -- fit enough only for compost at this point -- so I figured these guys could have a few bites.

I just hope they don't have an appetite for tomato plants. I don't feel like sharing any of those.

It's Not a Zucchini

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

A few weeks ago, I planted a zucchini seed in this spot. I swear, I did.

"Are you sure those were zucchini seeds you planted?" asked hubby.

"Yup, that's what I planted. I'm positive." I replied.

Well, this doesn't look like any zucchini I've ever seen before. In fact, it looks like a pretty darn healthy sunflower, perkily growing along and mocking me every time I go back to check for a zucchini seedling. But I didn't even have sunflower seeds with me the day I planted the zucchini -- I swear, I didn't! So how did this happen? I'll add this one to the Weirdness Files, I guess.

Too bad this imposter decided to plant itself boldly near the middle of the garden. It can't stay there; it will take up too much space and create too much shade, most likely. So I think this is going to be our first candidate for a guerilla gardening project we've been cooking up. (Her voice lowers to a whisper...) You see, there's this fence nearby that looks a little drab... and now I've got this extra sunflower on my hands... So...

L.A. Community Garden Loses the Fight

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

My heart just sunk when I saw on our local news tonight that the bulldozers have begun plowing their way over the plots at L.A.'s South Central Farm. Read more about it here. Amy Stewart is also ranting about it here.

I am angry and I am sad. The world gets one more warehouse for more "stuff," and one less green and thriving place for 350 families to feed body and soul.

In Bloom Today: Calendula

Monday, June 12, 2006

These are my first calendula flowers to bloom this year. In February, I seeded a few inside under the grow lights, but none of them germinated. I thought: Good grief, no calendula? I'll have to re-name my blog!


Thankfully, last year's bunch kindly volunteered and re-seeded itself, so now I have an early showing of these brilliant, cheery blooms. Another pleasant surprise in my garden.

This is the 'Orange Zinger' variety, from Seeds of Change.

The Accidental Larkspur

Sunday, June 11, 2006

Sometimes it's the unexpected things that make my garden most enjoyable. Take my Accidental Larkspurs, for example. I call them accidental because I wasn't expecting them to be here. Their growth this spring came as a pleasant and welcome surprise.

You see, last spring I planted an entire package of seeds, but not a single one germinated. Not one. Zero. Zip. Nada. I was so disappointed. It was a bunch of bum seeds, I thought. So in a last ditch effort, I tried sowing another half package, even though it was late May and the weather had become too hot. Again, nothing. It wasn't meant to be.

So you can imagine the joy in my eyes when early this spring I spotted a first unfamiliar tuft of green. Then another. And then another.

Could it be? I thought. Could those be my larkspurs? Sure enough, they were.

So now I have an entire section of them -- a beautiful multitude of delicate pink, white, lavender, and bold purple blooms. And because I wasn't expecting them this year, their presence is all the more appreciated. I'm enjoying them every day, as are the bees.

Eating From the Garden: Dill Bread

Saturday, June 10, 2006

Weekend Herb Blogging goes on the road this week and will be hosted by Sweetnicks in New Jersey. Be sure to check her blog on Monday for a recap of all the interesting ways people are using herbs, flowers, and vegetables.

The dill in my garden is sending up flowers now, so I decided to use a bunch of it to make Swedish Dill Bread. I'm not Swedish, so I can't vouch for the authenticity of this recipe, but I can tell you it's delicious.


Swedish Dill Bread
from Ultimate Bread

2 tsp. dry yeast
3.5 cups unbleached flour
1 tsp. salt
2 Tbsp. chopped fresh dill
5 oz. cream cheese, at room temp.*
2 onions, roughly chopped
2 Tbsp. unsalted butter, softened
1 egg, beaten

* I boosted the healthfulness factor by using 1/3 less fat cream cheese and 1.5 cups of whole wheat flour in place of the white. It made a slightly denser bread, but it still had a great texture and taste.

Dissolve the yeast; let it sit for 5 minutes. Mix the flour and salt in a large bowl. Make a well in the center and add the dill, cream cheese, onions, butter, egg, and yeast. Mix until it forms a sticky dough. Turn the dough onto a floured surface and knead for about 10 minutes until elastic. Put the dough in a clean bowl, cover it with a towl and let it rise for 1.5 hours. Grease a loaf pan, punch down the dough and let it sit for 10 minutes. Shape the dough and put it in the pan, seam side down. Let it rise for another 1.5 hours. Bake in preheated (350 degree Fahrenheit) oven for 45 minutes to 1 hour (until it sounds hollow when tapped underneath).

Fresh from the oven with a melting pat of butter.

This bread screams to become a ham sandwich with a smear of spicy brown mustard. If you like liverwurst and onions, it would be a perfect carrier for that too. And don't forget a dill pickle on the side!

Update on the L.A. Community Garden

Friday, June 09, 2006

Grist Magazine reported today that the Trust for Public Land, with help from The Annenberg Foundation, is making an offer to buy -- and save -- the 14-acre L.A. community garden. I hope this works. Last month, I was lamenting the news that the garden might be bulldozed to build a warehouse.

So why does this matter to me? My own community garden plot is primarily for hobby gardening. If I experience "crop failure," I can just walk a few blocks and pick up virtually any fresh vegetable or fruit my heart desires. It's different in South Los Angeles, where, as I understand it, some 350 low-income families use South Central Farm as their primary source for fresh food (and fresh air).

But the real reason this matters to me is because it symbolizes how much -- or how little -- our society values green space, especially in urban environments. The article sums this up well:

"The gardeners and the activists supporting them say that preserving the farm is essential -- not only for the health of L.A.'s most neglected communities, but also to set a precedent for other cities. If the country's second-largest city permits the scrapping of the country's biggest urban garden, they say, it will derail the efforts of activists working for green space elsewhere. The fate of the South Central Farm, its protectors say, is an important test of whether the country is committed to fostering more sustainable and self-sufficient cities."

Also...

"The South Central saga can be read as a parable of how society habitually places the interests of private property owners above the needs of impoverished communities. But to observers both near and far, South Central Farm is a living model of something more positive: how to cultivate community from the grassroots. It's proof of how city dwellers, working together, can build a more sustainable world, starting with something as seemingly simple as the food they eat."

Read the full article: The Central Question, by Jason Mark.

Eating From the Garden: Radish Salad

Thursday, June 08, 2006

A few weeks ago I planted a row of French Breakfast Radishes, which have quickly become my favorite type of radish. Their flavor is much more delicate than the standard round radishes we planted earlier this spring, which were sharp and almost pucker-your-lips peppery. In addition to the milder taste, I like the more interesting oblong shape of this variety, as well as their brilliant transition of hue -- from deep fuschia to pink to nearly pure white.


Today I had a bunch that I used in a quick and simple salad topped with olive oil, fresh chives, salt and pepper, and shredded Parmiagiano-Reggiano cheese. The recipe is by Deborah Madison, the author of Local Flavors.