Growing Eggplant

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

One of the things I'm most looking forward to from my garden this summer is eggplant. We tried growing eggplant at the community garden several years ago, but we were terribly unsuccessful with it. At best, we got one marble-sized fruit from a plant that had leaves as lacy as a bridal veil because of persistent flea beetle damage. I came to the conclusion that it just wasn't possible to grow eggplant around here.

Eggplant and catnip growing together on the left, peppers and marigolds on the right

But I've since heard that others have had success growing eggplant in our Zone 7, and so I decided to give it another go this year. This time, I did more research and wanted to try out a few tactics I'd read about:

1. I sowed seeds early -- indoors in February -- so that I would have good-sized plants to put outside after any danger of spring frost had passed. Flea beetles are less attracted to eggplant foliage that has toughened up. They prefer to feast on young, tender seedlings--something I witnessed first-hand with my own past plantings.

Eggplants, like peppers, are tropical plants that need a long growing season. So I started my seeds under grow lights around the same time I started my pepper seeds, in February. Eggplant plants like to stay warm, so I used a heating mat under their pots. By the time I put my plants in the ground in mid May, they were about 6 - 8 inches tall.

Admittedly, they weren't the healthiest looking plants I'd ever grown. The long stay indoors and the extended hardening off process, repeatedly interrupted by this spring's cold snaps, made the plants suffer. But these were still the earliest and biggest eggplant plants I'd ever started with, and that's progress.


2. I put bricks near the base of the plants when I planted them outside. Somewhere I read that putting stones near the base of eggplant plants will help them stay warm. The stones absorb warmth from the sun in the day and then give off residual heat in the night, creating a cozy micro climate for these sensitive plants that don't like to be in anything below 55 degrees Fahrenheit. The plants have grown up enough now that the bricks are shaded during much of the day, so they probably aren't helping much anymore. Early on, though, perhaps they helped.

3. I made catnip the companion. Catnip is said to be a natural deterrent to flea beetles. I divided the catnip I grew last year (which, by the way, my cat wanted nothing of) and I put it to good use in the bed where I put my eggplants. The two companions are growing well--and I think they look nice together too.

So here we are today and I'm happy to report that I have my best-looking eggplant plants ever. There's even a blossom on one of them!


I do see a few flea beetles around, and there is evidence that something even bigger has been sampling the leaves, but the damage overall is far less severe than what I'd seen in the past when we sowed very young seedlings.


I can't say for sure if this conquering-of-the-bugs success can be attributed to any or all of the above tactics, but something seems to be working. We added mushroom compost to our soil, too, this spring, and that seems to have helped all of our plants come along. I just hope all goes well from here on out. We are already daydreaming about eggplant meals.

Fresh pea soup

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Have you ever eaten fresh pea soup? Prior to this latest experiment with my garden produce, I'd only ever had the kind made with dried peas and ham. Good as grandma's dried pea soup was--and, boy, it was good the way she made it--I was intrigued when I read Alice Waters' recipe for a version made with fresh peas (in The Art of Simple Food).


I needed to gather about 2 to 3 cups of peas for the recipe. And the exciting part here is that, for the first time in my five years with an edible garden, 2 to 3 cups of shelled peas was a real possibility. At last, I had a good space in which to plant a decent quantity of seeds, and I got them in the ground early. The result? A bunch of now-shoulder-high plants, dripping with pods ready for picking.

Having learned in the past that peas get terribly starchy and bitter if left on the vine too long, I've been keeping a good eye on them this year. I picked one round of the plumpest pods early last week. That gave me a little more than a cup's worth, which I decided to blanch and freeze until I could collect another round on the weekend. (Yes, a cup's worth of peas collected in a single day is considered "success" in my still "small scale" veg garden.)


Here's the simple process for blanching and freezing:

• Put on a pot of water to boil while you're shelling your peas
• Get a bowl of ice water ready
• Add the peas to the boiling water and let them cook for about 90 seconds
• Strain out the peas and drop them immediately into the ice bath to stop the cooking process
• Leave them in the ice bath for all long as you boiled them--90 seconds
• Drain the peas, put them in a freezer bag and store
  

That's it! The blanching process locks in the peas' sweet flavor. It's a good process to do if you want to store fresh peas for later use. That way, they don't turn starchy and horrible tasting.


Over the weekend, I picked a second round of peas--about a cup and a half or so--and combined the fresh and frozen batches with onions sauteed in olive oil, salt, and a few cups of water. I put the whole bit through the food mill, and there we had it--the freshest, sweetest, most brilliantly colored pea soup I've ever eaten.


Previous posts about peas:
Eating the Peas
Little Marvels and the Not-So-Marvelous

Plant diversity and benficial insects

Friday, June 05, 2009

Chervil flowers attract beneficial insects

Last night I attended a talk on plant diversity and its influence on beneficial insects, presented by University of Maryland's Dr. Paula Shrewsbury at our monthly Master Gardeners meeting. Going into it, I figured I already knew the gist of the message: gardens with a greater diversity of plant types will provide habitat for a wide variety of insects, and so, in this bug-eat-bug world, there will be enough "good bugs" to take care of the "bad bugs," naturally, without chemical intervention. That was the essence of the presentation, but there were several points that were new and particularly interesting to me:

1.) Structural complexity is as important as plant species diversity. Translating the bio-speak, that means it's good to have a mix of distinctive layers of vegetation in your landscape, if possible: overstory trees, understory trees, shrubs, herbaceous plants, and ground covers, and then a variety of different plants at each level.

2.) Fertilized plants attract more insects. In Shrewsbury's research, insect populations (a bad kind) were twice as high on fertilized plants versus the non-fertilized. I had learned previously that when fertilized plants send out a lot of succulent new growth, they're especially attractive to pests such as aphids. The take-away: don't fertilize your plants if they don't really need it. Personally, I think compost goes a long way to keeping things healthy.

3.) Insects referred to as "natural enemies," the good guys, are beneficial only at certain stages in their life cycle. So, for example, the syrphid flies that I knew to be beneficial only feed upon prey while they're in their larval stage. Adult syrphids don't eat other bugs, they eat nectar and pollen. The take-away: Plant flowers that provide a variety of nectar and pollen sources, so your garden will support natural enemy insects in all of their life stages.

What to plant in order to attract beneficial insects?

Choose plants with long-season blooms and varying architectures. This includes big flowers like daisies or coneflowers, and small lacy flowers such as sweet alyssum, caraway, dill, and parsley. Herbs are great in general, as are cover crops like buckwheat and clover. Members of the mint family, such as catnip and hyssop, are good choices too.

In my own garden, I have catnip, herbs, and yarrow that are good for the insects. And I usually let a few veggies go to flower too, such as my mustards. I'd like to gradually add more native plants, and I definitely want a more "structurally complex" yard, especially the front, which is still mostly plain old turfgrass and ho-hum azaleas.

For more on natural enemy insects, what they look like, what they eat, etc., check out Michigan State University's excellent website: http://ipm.msu.edu/natural-enemies.htm.

Spring dinner with peas, onions, lettuce

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

Jamie Oliver's recipe for Incredible Smashed Peas and Broad Beans on Toast was the inspiration for Saturday night's supper. We wanted to prepare a meal that featured the first gleanings of our pea crop and other now-abundant garden offerings: onions and lettuce.

We don't have any broad beans (a.k.a., fava beans), but we were able to harvest the season's first few handfuls of shelling peas.


Michael bashed up the fresh (uncooked) peas with a mortar and pestle, adding fresh mint, lemon, cheese, salt and pepper. The mash went over garlic-rubbed toasts, with mozzarella cheese on top and a final flourish of pea shoots. It was refreshing and light, and the combination of flavors was something a little different than we've ever had before. We'd never made a dish with raw peas. The recipe can be found in Oliver's beautiful cookbook, Jamie at Home, which contains a whole slew of recipes inspired by the seasons in the chef's own very-gorgeous-I'm-envious-of-it garden.

Our version of Jamie Oliver's fresh pea mash on toast

For dish #2, I picked a bunch of onions and tried to make a go of Alice Waters' Onion Tart recipe from The Art of Simple Food.

I'm not sure what-on-Earth onions I've got here. These are the progeny of pass-along onions I got during my days at the community garden. There are some reds and some yellows in there. None of them bulb up for me, no matter how long I leave them in the ground. Still, it's nice to have a steady supply of whatever they are. This bunch was crowding out the asparagus plants, so it was time for them to hit the cutting board.

I sliced up at least six cups worth and would have cried the seven seas in the process had I not been saved by our trusty pair of onion goggles. This was a heavy-duty job and I needed equipment!

I cooked the onions with fresh thyme for about 30 minutes. Along the way, as I was tasting and testing, I had an unfortunate "uh-oh" moment. I realized that I shouldn't have used the green stalks of the onions. Early in the season, the green parts were soft enough to use like scallions, but now, when the onions are producing their bulblets, the stalks are really tough. Even with 30 minutes of cooking they were too fibrous for eating. I ended up sorting through and picking them all out. It was a lot of extra work, but after I had come so far with all that goggle-donned onion slicing, I was determined to make something good of this dish.

No! Don't use the stalks!

Ultimately it turned out fine. Smooth onion shavings piled inside a delicious buttery crust. We thought it was really good, in fact, and called it a definite keeper for times of onion abundance.

We completed our spring meal with dish #3, a simple salad of mixed greens buttoned up with a basic vinaigrette. We've been eating plenty of salads lately. I'm hoping to keep the momentum going as we get into the hot-weather months. I've been sowing succession plantings of lettuce seed for the past several weeks. We'll see how far it gets us.

Spring Meal of Three Garden Things

Coming up: Swiss chard, beets, and garlic scapes. What, besides pesto, can we make with our scapes?