Calendula & Concrete

Food Garden Planting Schedule

2010-02-07T17:49:00.013-05:00

Housebound after a 2 foot snowfall, I took some time today to make a spring planting schedule. It took a literal "snowed in" status to get me to sit down and finally do this. Each year, for the last six years, I've consulted books and websites to determine planting dates for specific food crops. I typically jotted down a smattering of "to-dos" on my wall calendar, but I never wrote up a complete schedule specifically for all my desired crops and their planting dates for an entire season. It takes a blizzard to get me this organized.

Here is my food garden planting schedule for spring. It is based on an average last frost date of April 15 in USDA Zone 7.

I came up with this plan after consulting the following information sources:

Nancy Bubel's The New Seed Starters Handbook
The University of Maryland Master Gardener Handbook
Grow It! Eat It! website
Maryland Home and Garden Information Center's Fact Sheet, "Planting Dates for Vegetable Crops in Maryland
Southern Exposure Seed Exchange Catalog & Garden Guide 2010

I was also influenced by my own experience with certain crops over the last few years.

What I hope to do, now that I've got everything down on virtual paper, is to keep detailed notes from season to season, year to year, and adjust planting dates according to my own backyard conditions and microclimate. I also plan to watch for phenological cues--environmental goings-on that provide planting indicators for specific crops (e.g., plant parsnips after daffodils bloom).

My next task is one of geography--mapping each crop to a designated location in my garden.

Snow days are for garden planning

2010-01-30T14:36:00.007-05:00

It's a perfect January day today -- snowy and cold! I am sitting inside by the window, thoroughly entertained by the 10 cardinals and other various birds clamoring for the feeders out back.

With a view of the garden beds nestled in snow, I'm at the computer punching in my order for this year's new selection of seeds. My list includes:

- Fava beans
- 'Blue Lake' bush beans
- 'Detroit Dark Red' beets
- 'Vates' kale
- Mizuna
- Chervil
- Leeks
- 'Jericho' lettuce
- 'Oakleaf' lettuce
- Parsnips
- 'Wando' peas
- Salsify
- Brussels sprouts
- 'White Icicle' radishes
- Sweet banana peppers

A quick check of my seed stash confirms that I have plenty of tomato, eggplant, squash, and other pepper seeds left over from last year. At some point, I'll want to order potatoes. I haven't grown potatoes since my community garden days, and I'd like to bring them back into the mix this year. I have my eye on 'Rose Finn Apple' or 'Russian Banana' fingerlings, but really, it could be any variety. There is no potato I don't love.

Coming up in February: I'll be firing up the grow lights. Time to get the leek seeds started!

2009-12-06T15:35:00.004-05:00

Here's a look at what I picked from the garden on Thanksgiving day: beets, kale, and leeks. We used the beets and leeks in our Thanksgiving meal and the kale for another dish.

I have a good crop of leeks this year--probably the best I've ever grown. Beets, however, seem to be in constant shortage. I never seem to plant enough to suit my appetite for them. Next year, I'll definitely plant more. And more kale, too.

Here's how the garden looks today. We had our first snow yesterday. Last weekend I mulched around the artichoke plants and covered the asparagus and garlic beds with leaves raked from the yard. I'm trying to keep the artichoke plants especially well mulched so that the crowns of the plants will make it through winter. In our Zone 7, we are teetering on the edge of temperatures that would kill globe artichokes in the winter, so this is a bit of an experiment to see if they'll make it. We had 5 very tasty artichokes this year. Not many, but they were so delicious (and such pretty plants) that I feel they're worth the effort.

Earlier this week, our neighbors gave us some of their extra Jerusalem artichoke bulbs to plant. Unfortunately, the timing and weather make it impossible for me to get them in the ground right now. Jerusalem artichokes will grow here, but they can be invasive (unless we eat them all, of course!).

Here are the brussels sprouts I grew this season. I haven't harvested any yet, as I was hoping they would get a little bigger. They seem to be opening up more than getting any bigger, though. I will probably harvest a few and try them out this week. Last year, I had NO success growing brussels sprouts, so this is good progress.

Tomatoes for dinner

2009-08-11T18:33:00.003-04:00

Here's a look at the latest treats from our garden. The first peppers are coming in now, and we've been trying to keep up with a bumper crop of heirloom tomatoes. I know, what a problem to have, right?

We planted four varieties of tomatoes this year: 'Cherokee Purple,' 'Green Zebra,' 'San Marzano,' and 'Gold Medal.' Favorites-wise, I'd rank them in that order, with the 'Cherokees' reigning supreme.

We've been knocking out a lot of these in gazpacho -- a perfect, refreshing meal for hot summer days. We've also had various tomato salads. And here's a tomato stack filled with a tangy chive goat cheese we picked up from the Stonyman Gourmet Farmer. The finishing touch is a homemade chive oil, made by my own resident gourmet, Michael. He creates, and I happily eat!

We made this season's first batch of tomato sauce with the 'San Marzano' tomatoes, and then we promptly taste-tested it for Sunday night's dinner! Mmmm...

We finished off dinner with this fresh nectarine tart I made. There aren't any garden ingredients in there, but it was so pretty I figured it was blog-worthy.

Eggplants coming along

2009-07-31T18:28:00.003-04:00

I have at least 5 eggplants that are plumping up now. So far, this is my best success with eggplant -- ever. The variety I'm trying out is 'Black Beauty,' which can grow fruits 8-10 inches long, 1-3 pounds each. The one in the foreground of the photo is not quite tennis-ball size yet, so we still have a way to go before picking. Not a problem, since we are presently trying to keep up with an abundance of ripening tomatoes!

New use for that old pickup truck

2009-07-31T09:44:00.006-04:00

Too bad we traded in the old pickup truck. We could have grown food in it! Check out this video about the Truck Farm. Fun idea. Inspirational. And I love the singing. "...The arugula grows, the basil grows, the lettuce grows... oh, oh, sweet, sweet Truck Farm grow...". You've never seen a CSA like this.

Beans, tomatoes, beets & brussels

2009-07-21T16:46:00.016-04:00

We've eaten a lot of beans from the garden over the last month. Wax beans, green beans, purple beans -- we've had them by the colander full.

My favorite way to eat fresh beans is in salads with a simple vinaigrette. Quick, easy, no fuss summer food.

After several rounds of picking though -- and yet another colander full -- I was getting tired of beans. I'm absolutely hankering to move on to...

'Green Zebra' tomatoes

TOMATOES!

It's been a long wait for the tomatoes we started from seed back in February. This past weekend we had our first couple of ripe 'Green Zebras.' I love their beautiful green contrast when paired up with regular red tomatoes in a salad.

We are about a day away from slicing into the season's first 'Cherokee Purple.' Those were our favorite among the heirloom tomatoes we grew last year.

Elsewhere in the garden, one of my favorite scenes is this one: A riotous mess of greens (and reds!) in all manner of textures.

In here is curly endive (so bitter that we never eat any of it), and bolting red lettuce and 'Red Russian' kale. The spiky plants are my globe artichokes, which I'm really excited about. No sign of any chokes emerging yet, but the plants are absolutely gorgeous.

Whether they get any artichokes or not, I'd consider keeping these plants in my landscape just for their pretty and unusual foliage.

Here's one of my pickings of beets. These were from a 'Gourmet Blend' of seeds that included 'Golden,' 'Chioggia,' and 'Bull's Blood' red. No matter how many beets I get, I never seem to have enough to suit my liking for them. I perpetually have on my garden to-do list: plant more beets.

I've started sowing seeds for fall crops. Yes, beets are in, and so is kale, kohlrabi, carrots, and cauliflower. I have five brussels sprouts plants growing. Last year I failed miserably with brussels, having planted them too late in the season. This time around I planted seedlings right after we dug out our garlic at the end of June. So far the plants look healthy and content, and I can see an add-on of growth with each passing day. Promising!

Brussels sprouts

Growing Eggplant

2009-06-24T07:23:00.001-04:00

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

2009-06-14T14:43:00.006-04:00

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

2009-06-05T18:55:00.000-04:00

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

2009-06-02T20:53:00.003-04:00

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?

Early eats from the garden

2009-05-13T18:53:00.000-04:00

Here's a quick tour of what I'm growing and eating in the garden these days. First things first: the strawberries are ripening! I ate the first one yesterday. It was still warm from the sun and had a fragrance and soft texture like nothing I ever get from store-bought strawberries shipped from who-knows-where. I definitely need to expand the strawberry patch in future years. I also need to do a better job of keeping the birds out so I don't end up with dreadful scenes like this:

I do have netting over the strawberries, but this particular berry was close to the edge and got nibbled by a feathery (or furry?) visitor. I wait and wait and patiently observe the berries' every transition in color from first blush to blood red, and then this. I hate it when the birds get them.

The garden is spilling over with onions and garlic right now. I enjoy having both, not only for eating but also because the plants give a nice green heft to the garden in the early spring before the summer veggies get going. They make the garden look full, even when it's not quite so. Here's the view from the opposite angle.

I sometimes cut the green onion tops and use them in salads. Here they are on top of my own-grown lettuces.

I have a nice selection of greens growing right now -- enough for fresh salads every day. The red ones on the right side of the photo below were in the 'Valentine' Mesclun Mix from Botanical Interests. Left of that is Green Oakleaf from Seed Savers Exchange. After that, I don't know what the frilly green kind is. Once again, in my typically excited haste to get seeds in the ground in early spring, I failed to label everything. I'm trying to be more diligent about using labels, but I still have my failings.

My radishes have been a delightful addition to salads. New this year, I planted the 'White Icicle' variety. I like them just about as much as the 'French Breakfast' variety, which is always a favorite of ours.

I discovered recently that I like radishes cooked -- sauteed, greens and all, in a little butter and olive oil with salt. Cooking takes away a bit of their bite. I'm going to experiment some more and see if I can come up with some interesting radish recipes. Suggestions welcome!

Elsewhere in the garden, the first pea pods are shaping up. I enjoy checking in on the little ones' progress every day.

The green beans are up now too. See? I did a good job of labeling those. I got those fancy copper labels in gift kit from Smith & Hawken years ago. They're of no use sitting in a box in the shed, so I finally started using them -- even if they are a little fancy for ordinary green beans.

I'll close out with my belly-on-the-ground shot of a pair of wax beans. Up, up and away they grow!

Blueberries

2009-05-02T09:10:00.002-04:00

Here's what I'm most excited about in my garden these days: my new blueberry plants. Blueberries have been at the top of my gardening wish list ever since my days at the community garden. My plot-neighbor, Brad, planted blueberries and I would always ogle at them from the other side of the fence. He had great success with his, and I've wanted to try my own ever since.

Here we are three years later. I chose two different varieties of highbush blueberries: blueray and bluecrop. Both are said to be good varieties for Maryland gardeners. Planting two or more varieties that bloom at the same time can result in more and bigger berries on the plants -- that's what I'm aiming for.

I started preparing a place for the plants last year, first with the remova l of the crape myrtles along the border between our yard and the neighbor's. Then I added compost to the planting area and grew a cover crop -- winter rye and hairy vetch -- to improve the soil through the fall and winter. Before planting three weeks ago, I dug in pine bark soil conditioner and LeafGro.

The most important step I missed along the way, however, was a soil test. I know, I know. Bad gardener! I should have done a soil test first. Blueberries like acidic soil and I've been more or less winging it and guessing that my efforts have been making it such. I really need to test for sure.

When I bought my plants at the wonderful Homestead Gardens, they were full of flowers. The Maryland Cooperative Extension recommends removing all the flowers and pruning the plants back by about 50-60% after putting them in the ground. Okay, I know that might sound crazy, but the idea is to let the plants put their energy into growing good roots rather than berries the first year. I sacrificed the blossoms for the greater good of establishing strong root systems. My efforts will be rewarded with healthy plants that produce lots of berries next year, and in many future years -- I hope!

The guy at the nursery recommended that I use a liquid feed of root stimulator at planting time. I could have just handed him my credit card with a glazed-over look in my eyes -- Yes...I will do/buy whatever you say... I must. Have. My blueberries...

So I bought a special 3-10-3 (heavy on phosphorus) liquid fertilizer and added it at planting time. I also added a bit of Holly Tone, which is formulated for acid loving plants.

Okay, so that leads me back to the soil test. No sense in adding all these extra nutrients without really knowing what's necessary. I plan to submit a soil sample to a lab this coming week.

Sure sounds like a lot of fussing, doesn't it? Fuss I will do. I want good blueberries. And lots of them.

Peas are up!

2009-03-31T19:29:00.001-04:00

The peas I planted at the beginning of March are about an inch tall now. I'm testing three varieties: Alaska, the romantic sounding Meraviglia D'Italia, and Wando. I planted them all together so that they're all getting the same type of soil and light. So far the Wandos are doing the best, followed by the Alaskans. At a distant third are the not-so-marvelous meraviglias.

Wando peas are supposed to be fairly heat tolerant, so I have high hopes that they'll hold up when our spring snaps into summer. Last year I let my peas mature in the June heat and they turned bitter. Absolutely worthless. I plan to do better this year and harvest them before it gets too hot.

Inside under the grow lights, I have a couple of globe artichoke plants that are coming along nicely. I also started my tomatoes, peppers, and eggplants. Most of those have their first "true" leaves now, so I transplanted them into larger pots. The eggplants were slow to start, but now that I added a heat mat underneath them, they seem to be picking up the pace. That's the good news.

The bad news? The groundhog is back! Or rather, our resident groundhog came out of hibernation. It spent the winter under our deck out back. I spotted it lumbering across the lawn on Sunday, looking notably slimmer than it was last fall. Surely it's hungry!

The city police department provided us with a trap so that we can catch it and get it out of here humanely. With groundhog in place, there's little hope for those peas, artichokes, and everything else we want to plant in the garden.

So wouldn't you know it...we set up the trap on Sunday and the groundhog hasn't been seen since. I'm sure it's still around though. Most annoying is that we have to bait the trap with fresh carrots and apples; this after the beast munched up practically everything edible in our garden (and the neighbor's) last fall. Curses!

Starting Seeds

2009-02-05T07:03:00.000-05:00

I started my first seeds last weekend -- leeks, lobelia, and something new I want to try this year, artichokes. Lobelia 'Crystal Palace' is always the first of the flower seeds I put under the grow lights. I plant some every year for its stunning deep blue flowers. The blossoms are tiny but when the plants are grouped en masse, they practically glow in summer's dusk. They're just beautiful, and they are super-low maintenance once established.

The artichokes fall into the "wouldn't it be nice if I could grow some of those" category, but I'm not holding my breath. I've never seen artichokes offered at the farmers' markets around here, and that's a sign that I'm probably pushing my luck. Artichokes are a perennial plant and it might not be until next year until I see a choke, if I even get that far with them. We'll see. This is definitely an experiment.

Here's a picture of my seed stash. Last year I had just one bucketful of seeds; I've since added a stuffed-to-the-brim shoebox. This past weekend I had the best intention of going through all those seeds and throwing away the oldest ones that I'll probably never plant. Like the cucumbers. Somewhere along the way I accumulated a lot of cucumber seeds. I have some packets in there dating back to 2004 and 2005 -- some of them unopened. My eyes were bigger than my garden plot back then, clearly.

I ended up composting only about 10 packets of seeds, mostly the unwanted cucurbits. I really have trouble getting rid of the excess. I always think, maybe THIS will be the year I'll plant those extra beans from 2006, or maybe THIS will be the year I'll plant that free packet of flower seeds I got in 2007 when I didn't have the space for them.

But if past behavior is any indication of the future...

What can I say? My seed stash looks pretty much the same after my half-hearted vetting process. And I just received 7 new packets of seeds -- my mail order from Seed Savers Exchange. I'm popping the lid off another shoebox.

Kale, it's what's for groundhog's dinner

2008-11-18T20:48:00.003-05:00

This isn't the post I wanted to write today. I wanted to boast that my garden was flooded with verdant waves of kale, lettuce, kohlrabi -- all the things that revive in the garden when summer wanes into fall and then gasps at the first frosty breaths of winter. I wanted to report that the harlequin bugs finally headed out to wherever harlequin bugs go for the winter and left behind a pair of perfectly formed, ivory globes -- my first try at homegrown cauliflower. The harlequin bugs are gone, finally, yes, but I have not a single cauliflower to speak of. And that parsley that grew so slowly - from seed - over the summer? When Michael went to the garden to cut a few leaves, he found in parsley's place only a few sad-looking blank stems. Curses.

Houston, we have a problem here. A big, fat, furry, four-legged problem -- the groundhog. As if squirrels weren't enough (and they, too, are baaa-aaack), we now have a voracious groundhog that's taken up residence under the deck. It's been coming out to eat just about everything in the veggie plot (AND the neighbor's), never mind my attempts to protect a few choice items with a bit of netting. I swear, we've got the best-fed groundhog this side of the Mason-Dixon Line.

Could have been a cauliflower

I contacted our city's animal control department and hope they'll send someone to take Chubby off to greener pastures, or wherever groundhogs like to be when suburbanites like us aren't feeding them with our green thumbs.

On the bright side, the garlics I planted about a month ago are reaching their newborn stems to the sky, oblivious to all manner of encroaching herbivorous creatures and the first icy coughs of an awakening Old Man Winter.

Pickled Cherry Peppers and Red Bell Pepper Sauce

2008-09-02T16:56:00.015-04:00

I picked these beautiful cherry peppers and set them up in a pickle using a recipe I found in Alice Waters' Chez Panisse Vegetables. Garlic and sweet bay from our garden combine with black peppercorns, fresh cilantro, and two kinds of vinegar to give them their flavor. I made only one small jarful as a tester and also because we don't yet have the pressure-canning equipment that is recommended for canning larger quantities of peppers safely. These cured for one week in the refrigerator where they'll keep for up to two months.

The verdict on taste? Hot, sweet, and sour all at once. The peppers are almost too spicy-hot for my liking, but just sweet and vinegary enough to keep me wanting to try more. Michael loves them. A hot pepper relish that accompanies the cold-cut subs at our favorite deli was my inspiration for this first foray into pepper pickling. We plan to use these peppers in a similar manner to fire up a few ordinary sandwiches.

Also on the subject of peppers, I am so happy to have bell peppers that are finally growing large and thick-walled enough to pass for the store-bought kind. I don't know if I can put my finger on an exact secret to this success; I've just been giving the plants periodic feedings of compost, regular watering, and full sun. I have so many peppers that are turning ripe now. I plan to freeze some, chopped and ready to use for cooking during the winter months. My mouth waters at the prospect of warming up to a bowlful of sweet bell pepper soup, made with our own peppers, in about February or so.

This weekend I used two of my fresh bells to make a red pepper butter sauce from the Moosewood Restaurant's Simple Suppers cookbook.

I started by sauteing the peppers in garlic and olive oil and then blended the mixture in a food processor with lemon, butter, and salt. Fan-tas-tic. This was a nice change from the usual tomato sauce, and it really was so simple to make. Unlike the cherry peppers that I pickled, these peppers were entirely sweet. I could drench my pasta in this sauce and still go happily for seconds without fear of taste-bud injury. Beautiful on the plate, it was food for the eyes, too.

Red pepper butter sauce on angel hair pasta with fresh basil

Grilled pepper night

2008-08-10T11:15:00.008-04:00

It is immensely gratifying to go into the garden and pick a bowlful of peppers like this. I started these from seed in February, and now they're finally coming into form. Here we have purple and red bells, a sweet banana pepper, and a few poblanos ready to meet their fate on the grill.

Michael cooked them until their skins blackened and blistered, and then we peeled them, sliced out their seeds, and filled them with a mixture of grilled corn, diced red onion, Monterey Jack cheese, and cilantro. Then back on the grill they went for baking.

The poblano peppers were a lip-numbing hot, just the way hubby likes them; I picked out the sweet peppers in the bunch. We dined al fresco and soaked in all the satisfaction of our long-awaited peppers -- grown, grilled, good. And still more to come.

Do it for the crabs

2008-07-29T22:42:00.000-04:00

Maryland Blue Crab,
Photo from chesapeakebay.net

Today I received an invitation to join the Chesapeake Bay Foundation's Gardeners for the Bay, and I signed on without hesitation. The population of Chesapeake Bay blue crabs -- the paragon of local food for us Marylanders -- has declined by an astonishing 70 percent since 1990. 70 percent! And that decline is attributed in part to pollution from farms, cities, roads - everything we do to the land that washes away down river.

As a Marylander, I cannot imagine a single summer going by without at least one opportunity to devour a pile of steamed Chesapeake Bay blue crabs; they're a delicacy. And eating blue crabs is really an experience. It's sitting down to table covered with a big sheet of butcher paper; sleeves rolled up; wooden mallet, roll of paper towels, and bucket by one's side. It's the sound of peeling into shell, the scent of sea meets spice, and the exceptional flavor of each sweet little morsel inside. For 10 minutes, its just you and that crab, your devotion punctuated with dips of vinegar and melted butter and gobs of Old Bay Seasoning accumulating on your finger tips. Add ice cold drinks and greasy-fried hush puppies on the side. This is summer in Maryland.

Photo by imageining

Shortly after we moved into our Maryland home almost a year ago, we learned about BayScaping. That's just a fancy term for landscaping set within the context of and for the benefit of the Chesapeake Bay. The concept is simple: plant native species that reduce the need for chemical pesticides and help prevent erosion, thereby keeping the bad stuff out of the Bay.

While I avoid the use of chemical pesticides and herbicides in my garden as it is, it's been a goal of mine to add more native plants. We do, in fact, have plans to tear out the entire front lawn and replace it with perennial flowers, shrubs, and native grasses. We're driven mainly by the desire to have less of a boring lawn to mow, but we also want to do our part for our beloved bay and our favorite crustaceans therein. Our yard is just one little corner of the world, but we can do our part with it, and what we do here does matter downstream. Everything is connected.

The Chesapeake Bay watershed includes portions of six states -- Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia, Pennsylvania, New York, Delaware -- and the District of Columbia. So, if you're gardening in one of those places, sign on to Gardeners for the Bay and make an effort to do something in your garden or yard to save this natural treasure. Do it for me. Do it for you. Do it for the crabs.

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Blue crabs -- How you can help
Chesapeake Club -- Learn how to "Save the Crabs, Then Eat 'Em"

How it grows on July 27, 2008

2008-07-27T13:23:00.006-04:00

This is how the garden looks today. We are right now at the pinnacle of the gardening year; the crops planted in the spring are bearing fruit, while the fall plants are just now emerging.

We're enjoying a steady supply of crookneck squash, green and wax beans, peppers, and... the first TOMATOES! On Friday night, we rang in tomato season with a celebratory eating of tomato sandwiches: tomatoes with mozzarella and fresh garden basil, tomatoes on grilled cheese sandwiches, and tomatoes simply sliced and topped with a sprinkling of salt. I can't even put into words how satisfying they tasted.

Our tomatoes aren't perfect; most of them have cracks or holes or blemishes of some sort. But we cut the little imperfections away and enjoy what's on the inside: deeply colored, intensely flavored flesh matched with an unbeatable fragrance that eludes the supermarket counterparts.

Here are a few more scenes from my garden and table...

Green and wax beans

Squash and beans stirred into fettuccine with fresh basil

San Marzanos, now neatly aligned on their vines and still green, are the raw material of choice for our tomato sauce.

We have a cascade of watermelon vines. There are only two plants here of the Crimson Sweet variety and they are growing like mad. Lucky us!

Ready to eat?

This is the healthiest crookneck squash plant I've ever grown. We've eaten 7 good-sized squashes from it so far, and more are setting up.

Sadly, things didn't fare so well for my Lebanese cousa squash plant. That one died a very sad death from not one, not two, but four squash vine borers that decimated its stem. It was so badly mangled; not even my Band-Aid trick could have saved it.

And then we have this one, the mysterious winter squash. I swear I planted an acorn squash in this place, but this doesn't look anything like an acorn squash. It doesn't come to a point on the bottom like acorns usually do. Whatever it is, though, it's growing splendidly. I see 5 squashes on the plant so far.

This morning I transplanted my cauliflower starts. Everything I read about cauliflower indicates it's a temperamental plant that's difficult to grow. That's not going to stop me from trying at least once.

For fall, I've also planted seeds for arugula, carrots, beets, mizuna, tat soi, bok choy, kohlrabi, two kinds of kale, mustards, broccoli raab, radishes, dill, and lettuce. Later I'll put in spinach, garlic, and more arugula. We can't have too much arugula.

Beet Harvest

2008-07-20T10:08:00.002-04:00

Last weekend I pulled my spring crop of beets. There weren't many to speak of, but I did have a few good-sized ones in the bunch. The largest among them were about three inches in diameter.

I baked these in the oven, placing them in an aluminum foil packet with a little olive oil and water to steam them. I thought I would make a beet salad, but I ended up just eating them plain, cold, slipped straight from their skins. Incredibly sweet, they tasted like candy, which is precisely what I love about beets!

In past years, I've left my beets in the ground too long and they turned woody and bitter. This bunch turned out so well that was inspired to scale up my fall crop. I've planted about four times as many beets to harvest by season's end. In our Zone 7, now is the perfect time to sow their seeds.

Kitty was impressed with the beet harvest, too.

Kale Tortilla

2008-07-13T16:49:00.003-04:00

I picked a bunch of my Red Russian kale today and sent it on a culinary excursion to Spain. Here's its transformation into a Kale and Potato Spanish Tortilla (following this recipe from Epicurious.com).

I cooked the kale in salted boiling water for 3 minutes, shocked it in cold water, and then chopped it into bite size pieces.

Imagine... a lazy Sunday afternoon with the smell of onions and potatoes cooking in olive oil in an iron skillet... homey-good cooking smells permeating all nooks and crannies of the house. Then add homegrown kale to the picture.

I substituted Egg Beaters for half the recommended 7 eggs, to cut down on the cholesterol. The most challenging part of making this dish was following the last instruction listed on the recipe: "Remove from heat and let stand, covered, for 15 minutes." The wait was agonizing. At the 10 minute mark, I wanted to cheat, lift the cover, and start poking at the tortilla's bubbly edges. It smells so good, can I just take a peak?

Finally... let's eat!

This one's going on my short list of what-to-do-with-kale recipes. Loved it, loved it... Loved. It. Count me among the 95% of Epicurious eaters who said they would make this again. I don't know what the other 5% are thinking.

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Related Post: Russian Kale in Portuguese Soup

5 favorite things

2008-07-08T18:57:00.001-04:00

My five favorite things in the garden right now are:

#5 - The Foxglove plants delivered from my Mom and Dad, straight from their garden to mine. I planted them in my new shade garden under the Bradford pear tree out back.

#4 - Two Redbud tree seedlings from my aunt. I need to find a place of honor for them.

#3 - Gobs of tomatoes hanging heavy on the vine. (Hurry up and ripen already; I have a basil that's eager to mingle with you!) These are an heirloom variety I'm trying out this year, Black Krim.

#2 - Well, not exactly "in" the garden anymore, but these are the mustard seeds we harvested from the Red Giant mustard greens grown in our garden earlier this spring. And yes, in case you're wondering, we are planning to grind them into, well, mustard. Mustard powder, that is, which is a key ingredient in the spice rub Hubby makes for his rotisserie chicken done up on the grill.

AND...

#1 - Peppers! Peppers! We've got peppers!

The last one is another new-to-me heirloom that I'm testing this year: fish peppers, which are called such because they were typically used in fish cookery in the Chesapeake region years ago - or so I've read. Check out the very interesting variegated foliage. With white and green leaves, and even a spot of purple in parts, they're beautiful plants in and of themselves. And we haven't even tasted the peppers yet. Wheee!

Garlic Harvest 2008

2008-06-24T21:20:00.003-04:00

Garlic fresh from the ground, 6/22/08

The squeak of the pantry door as I reach for the bowl. The rustle of nature-made paper surrendering to hungry hands. The sound of steel knife in a quick, crushing blow to clove on wood. Thwack! Another meal begins with garlic.

This past weekend we harvested the garlic we planted last fall. It's not the best crop of garlic we've grown -- not by any means -- but it's our own garlic. And it beats store-bought any day.

"Small is better than none at all" is turning out to be the theme of our gardening experience this year. Given that we really need to improve our soil, we're keeping our expectations in check. Puny little garlic heads they are, but they are better than none at all.

This fall, some of our first compost should be ready to put in, and we're planning to grow winter cover crops as well. That should help with the soil situation. Feed the soil and it will feed us loads more garlic - next year. For now, small is bliss. Garlic is one of my all-time favorite things to grow.

Pea-tiful

2008-06-16T18:55:00.001-04:00

Michael and I have been talking already about our next year's crop of peas. We want to grow more of them -- a lot more. Forget about "A few pods here, a token handful there." Sure, it's been nice to have small amounts of peas to taste and to feel the accomplishment of having grown our own, but now we want to scale it up.

I plan to devote one half to two-thirds of a garden bed just for peas next spring. They're good for the soil, we like to eat them, and they'll be out of the ground just in time for me to put in the summer and winter squash seeds.

This year's crop of peas (well, it's a stretch to call it a "crop" -- that's the extent of them in the photo above) was not so good. I left the pods on the plant too long. Worse, they suffered through the recent late spring heat wave. Code Red Days = No Pea Days. The peas got too big and starchy and we all but choked them down just to say we ate our own homegrown peas. Pitiful they were. Not even butter could save them.

Note to self: Never leave peas on the plant in that kind of heat. Never.

Better luck next year.

Salad Greens

2008-06-15T21:52:00.002-04:00

Accompanying our dinner tonight was this mix of lettuces, beet greens, endive, chives, and radishes (tiny as they were) pulled fresh from the soil. The lettuces are starting to go bitter now in the summer heat, so we need to use them up fast. These were delicious with a simple vinaigrette of olive oil, red wine vinegar, Dijon mustard and a little lemon juice.

Give and take in the garden

2008-06-10T19:06:00.004-04:00

Black-Eyed Susans received from Debbie, 4/22/08.

A fish tank. A smashed hula hoop. And one ovulation prediction kit. What do all these items have in common? They're all among the recent offerings on my local Freecycle list. (And I suppose I could get creative here and write a fictitious story about how a fish tank, a smashed hula hoop, and an ovulation prediction kit relate in some way to gardening, but I will leave that to your imagination.)

If you have something you want to get rid of, chances are someone on your local Freecycle list will take it. Conversely, if you're looking for a specific item, you might consider posting a "Wanted" notice to the list. I wanted Black-Eyed Susan plants for my new front yard garden. Within a short time after posting my plant request, I had a response from a fellow Freecycler named Debbie, who offered to give me a few from her garden. Free plants, just for asking.

While it's nice to receive, it also feels great to be in a position to give. We had two crape myrtles in the backyard that didn't fit into our long-term plans for the garden. I like crape myrtles, I do, but they grow enormous around here, and we decided to get rid of them while they were still small and (somewhat) easy to dig out.

On the DC Urban Gardeners List, Gwen from Annapolis, Maryland, was looking for shrubs and perennials for her new garden. I was happy to find a taker for my crape myrtles, and it turns out they were among the plants on Gwen's wish list.

One of two crape myrtles moved out to Gwen's place in Annapolis.
Phase One of Blueberry Lane begins, 6/8/08.

This weekend, Gwen and her friend Maria came by and helped us dig them out, and now I have room to start the next phase of the garden. I want to put in fruit bushes - blueberries and currants, specifically - and I plan to start working on the soil for them soon.

Roses with black spot disease

2008-06-02T19:40:00.005-04:00

My rose bushes are exploding with their brilliant red blooms. Deep, satiny, sumptuous flowers they are. I enjoy going out in the mornings and taking a deep breath of their deliciously sweet scent. How lucky I am to have moved into a house with a row of established roses. They're a real treat. I only did a little bit of pruning earlier this year and -- bam! -- we have a flood of roses.

How easy it was, or so I thought.

When I went out a few days ago to get my daily fill of rosy goodness, I noticed that some of the leaves on the undersides of the plants had dark spots and were turning yellow. Those sickly looking leaves would fall from the plant at the slightest touch.

"Is my rose honeymoon over already?" I thought.

Black Spot Disease on Roses

A few clicks around the Internet would introduce me to something called Black Spot Disease, an apparently fairly common problem with roses. According to this source, it's a fungal disease that can take hold of roses in "warm, damp conditions, especially when leaves have been wet." During the month of May we had, oh, about 9 inches of rain -- ideal conditions for Black Spot. Left unchecked, the disease can weaken an entire rose plant.

With my once-effortless roses suddenly calling for attention, I cut back all of the infected leaves and canes and put all the debris in the trash. I read that one organic method for controlling the spread of Black Spot is to mix a teaspoon of baking soda with a quart of water and spray it on the plants in the morning. If things get worse, I might try that.

On another note, while I was trimming away the sickly leaves, I noticed only 2 bees buzzing along the entire row of roses. ONLY 2 BEES! Where are all the bees?! I know I am not the first gardener to question this. Many garden bloggers, in fact, have been commenting on the bee situation for a while now. But this is the first time I've really noticed so few bees in my own garden.

Little marvels, and the not-so-marvelous

2008-05-27T18:34:00.000-04:00

Little Marvel peas forming on the vine

The pea pods are beginning to swell with their precious pearl-shaped orbs inside. I don't have many pea plants this year -- only about 7 or 8 plants grew from an older packet of Little Marvel peas I found in my seed stash. Numbers-wise, it's a less than marvelous crop. We'll most certainly have fewer peas than last year, hardly enough for a meal, but we'll at least have a few token ones to taste.

While it always helps to start with fresh seed, good soil helps too. The germination of our peas was probably hampered by our less-than-stellar soil. We planted in topsoil purchased from Home Depot last fall, and it really needs help. It's sandy, dry, and apparently lacking in nutrients.

A sure indicator of the soil's infertility is my radishes. They've been sputtering along for at least two months now, and all I have to show for it are these puny, thumbnail-size nubs. Radishes are said to be one of the fastest and easiest plants to grow, but mine are the most pathetic little radishes I've ever seen. Little marvels? Not so much.

Strawberries: One for you, one for me

2008-05-08T19:11:00.002-04:00

I wasn't kidding when I said we'd have our first pick of strawberries today. Here they are in all their glory -- the first two fruits from our new garden.

There are just two so far: one for Michael, one for me. It's only enough to whet our appetites for more. The next berries can't ripen soon enough.

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Related Post: Strawberry Shortcake

How it grows on May 7, 2008

2008-05-07T18:35:00.010-04:00

In the garden today, my garlic and onions are about knee high, the radishes are plumping up, and we should have our first taste of this season's crop of strawberries on or about... tomorrow! My mouth waters at the mere thought of it.

The first edibles from this year's garden turned out to be chives and mustard greens. We've been making good use of the chives; I love them on a baked or grilled potato or mixed into a potato salad.

Mustard Greens, Red Giant

The mustard greens are another story; those are taking a bit of getting used to. Eaten raw, they're so sharp and peppery that I can just about feel the optical nerves of my eyeballs tying into a knot in the back of my head, just before my sinus cavities get blasted out. It sounds like I'm exaggerating, I know, but really, these greens pack a punch -- almost like horseradish -- and they have that kind of effect on me. I've found that cooking the leaves tames the spiciness, and that's the way I prefer to eat them. I usually chop a few leaves, boil them in water for a few minutes, and then stir them into pasta. They're good that way.

Culinary qualities aside, I've discovered that the Red Giant mustard greens make a beautiful visual addition to the garden in the early spring when not much else is going on. I planted these from seed in my community garden plot last July, transplanted them to our new home last October, and they really started taking off in February. Now they're bolting to seed, which I plan to collect for a new crop of mustards in the fall.

Pass-alongs and stowaways

2008-04-22T20:21:00.005-04:00

Today I discovered two little stowaways in the potted rose bush my parents sent along with me the last time I visited. My newfound ferns are slowly unfurling their feathery little heads to wave at the warmer days of spring. Now I have ferns for my yard!

I've been accumulating quite a variety of pass-along plants lately: three rooting branches of a pussy willow tree, two spireas from my aunt, one housewarming butterfly bush from a friend, and the rose bush dad dug up from the back of his house. The latter is an offspring from my grandmother's roses, which are known in my family as the sweetest smelling roses on Earth. Can't beat those roses.

Now the challenge is to find a place for all my new plants. I'm still trying to decide which of the previous owner's plantings I like, and which ones I think I might part with. The camellias' days are probably numbered; I'm not feeling so great about those. Then there is some sort of prickly bush at the end of the yard. Ugly as it is, the birds seem to like it for shelter, so I'm torn about that one. And in the space where I thought I'd plant grandma's rose bush, there are lilies of the valley now emerging from the ground. Every space is filling up fast.

It's a fun challenge to have, though, finding new homes for my pass-alongs and stowaways.

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day: April

2008-04-15T07:01:00.004-04:00

This month's Garden Blogger's Bloom Day crept up on me faster than I realized, even though it always falls on the 15th of the month, so I should have been prepared.

My garden is bursting with flowers this month - some of which I planted myself and some of which where left by the previous owners of the house. I've been having the best time watching everything unfold and making each new discovery. My favorite of all is that we have tulips in front of the house, and I didn't even plant them. How's that for a nice surprise?

The tree branch that I posted for February Bloom Day came from the tree pictured above - a beautiful Bradford pear. This weekend, sitting on the deck, we were graced with a shower of its delicate, drifting petals.

With the pear blossoms now finished, I have another tree - a crab apple, I think - that is flooded with gorgeous fuschia flowers. A picture would help here, I know, but the wind made it impossible for me to capture one the other day. I promise a photo soon.

Elsewhere around the yard I have: hyacinths, grape hyacinths, daffodils, forsythia, and a few azalea plants that are about to explode into bloom. I also have... drum roll, please... STRAWBERRY FLOWERS!

Making the Garden Beds

2008-04-10T21:52:00.000-04:00

We've been moving forward with our garden building project in fits and starts lately -- more fits than starts, really, given that it's been too wet to do much digging. We're concerned about compacting and damaging the soil if we work on it when it's too wet.

A couple of weeks ago, we ordered a delivery of 4 cubic yards of compost/topsoil mix from the local Pogo Organics. It was cheaper to do it that way, rather than buying soil in bags. I also appreciated that we didn't end up with a pile of plastic bags to deal with afterwards. Less waste.

Indoors under the grow lights, my pepper and tomato plants are growing up. I've transplanted some of them twice already into larger pots. When the weather is nice, I'll start setting them outside to harden off. We're still about a month away before it's safe to put them in the ground for good. I can't wait for the day when everything is tucked neatly into a garden bed -- and churning out food!

Bye Bye, Lawn!

2008-03-17T19:46:00.003-04:00

I'd rather have tomatoes.

We de-lawned a large swath of our backyard this weekend, making way for three additional new garden beds. For anyone thinking of doing the same, I have four words of advice: Rent a sod cutter. It's a miracle of machine that makes the task so much easier than doing it by hand the old-fashioned way, with shovels and sweat, as we did with our garden bed #1.

Earlier this winter, we considered using the lasagna gardening method to prepare the soil for more planting space. We asked a guy at our favorite garden center for his advice about this, and he looked at us as if we had just dropped in from another solar system. I kind of expected that reaction. The first time I heard the term lasagna gardening, I thought it meant growing things to make lasagna. You know: tomatoes, garlic, basil...

I will pause here so you can finish laughing.

Ahem. So, it turns out lasagna gardening, or sheet composting, would have worked for us if we had started the process last fall. But now in the spring, the garden center guy advised us that there wouldn't be enough time for the grass and other layers of organic matter to decompose fully before planting. Critters in the soil would pull valuable oxygen and nutrients out during the decomposition process, making all that good stuff unavailable to any plants we would put in. Or something like that. In short, we came to the conclusion that removing the sod was probably our best option at this point. My pepper seedlings await.

Enter the sod cutter. We went in with our neighbors (who are also putting in a new garden) and rented one over the weekend. Beforehand, Michael and I watched a YouTube video to see how a sod cutter works. I thought to myself: If it really does work like that and all we have to do is roll up the lawn in its wake, then we've got it made.

After the machine's initial smoke-filled sputters, and an exchange of doubtful glances on our part, Michael pushed the stubborn contraption along through the yard. My sister-in-law and I followed in his path, swooping down like robins to a worm, delighted to discover that, yes, indeed, we could roll up the neatly severed strips of lawn. It worked!

Not only am I excited about our garden expansion project, but I am also thrilled that it will take us less time to mow the lawn this summer. I plan to spend the extra time eating tomato sandwiches. A fresh tomato-filled lasagna sounds tasty, too.

Coast to coast seed exchange - And a seed search tool

2008-03-07T18:57:00.001-05:00

This week I received a much anticipated delivery in the mail: Seeds sent to me by Christina from A Thinking Stomach in Pasadena, California. Christina contacted me about trading seeds, and I was more than happy to oblige. She offered to share some of the wonderful and intriguing seeds from her collection. I chose: Nigella flowers (for their fabulous seed pods), Red Ruffled pimiento, Black Krim tomatoes, Lebanese Cousa summer squash, 3-Root Grex Beet, Blue Coco pole beans, and Aurora orach.

The last one on the list, orach, was something I'd never heard of before. If you're scratching your head too, orach is said to be similar in many ways to spinach. In The Washington Post, Barbara Damrosch wrote about her experience discovering orach (Spinach's Brilliant Cousin). Not only is the plant edible, she wrote, but it is also beautiful in flower arrangements. Perfect.

Another attractive attribute of orach is that it, supposedly, is a little more bolt-resistant than regular spinach. I decided not to plant spinach this spring specifically for that reason; it always bolts on me before I really get anything out of it.

So, I thought I would plant my new orach seeds out in the garden next to the strawberries. What I failed to do initially, though, was read the fine print about this plant. Some descriptions of orach say it can grow as high as 6 feet tall! Oops! That's not going to work next to the strawberries, which are right in the center of our garden bed. I'll need to re-think this and find another location that would be more suitable. More planning is in the works.

On a related note about seeds, I found a Custom Seed Search over at Mother Earth News. Type in any variety of plant you're looking for and their search engine will scour the catalogs of over 150 seed companies. It's a seed shopper's dream! Type in "aurora orach" and you will find sources that offer the very seeds of which I speak. Pretty cool, eh?

Of course, finding seeds from a fellow garden blogger is even more fun. Thanks, Christina!

Loving the skin my blog is in

2008-03-03T21:54:00.001-05:00

Spring cleaning and remodeling are in full swing over here at Calendula & Concrete. Yes, it's still me; you're in the right place. Community gardener moves to the 'burbs and thinks she can grow all things edible in her squirrel-ridden backyard.

For the longest time, I've wanted to tear down my blog's old brown wallpaper and put up something fresh. And now, here it is, beautifully designed and implemented by The Love of My Life, Michael.

Gorgeous, isn't it?

Peppers for the grill, anyone?

2008-02-26T19:29:00.009-05:00

A pepper is born -- one of five on 2/22/08

A quintuplet of peppers has sprouted in the nursery. Hurray! Already my mouth is watering at the thought of this one -- a red bell pepper -- growing up to offer the makings of a sizzling shish kebab cooked up on hubby's newly purchased grill. What is it with guys and grills? Michael was out on the deck Sunday night -- in cold February -- grilling a whole chicken on the new rotisserie gadget attachment thingy. We are envisioning all the wonderful garden-grown foods we'll be able to cook right on the grill this summer. I'd better start planting more grillable veggies. I grow it, he grills it. This is going to be good...

Peas on ice

2008-02-22T18:57:00.001-05:00

Peas on my ice-covered garden, February 22, 2008

February 22. George Washington's birthday. The day I intended to crack the winter seal on the vegetable garden and usher in spring with a planting of peas. The songbirds had been coaxing me along for weeks with their spring melodies, the Canada geese spelled out vernal in gigantic V-formation, and I had every indication that it was time. But alas, Nature is teetering precariously between seasons. Today, with an ice storm, it is clearly still Winter.

So, when I speak of cracking the seal on the garden, I don't just mean that figuratively. I'd actually have to get out there and start chipping away at ice. Worse, under drizzling cold rain.

Pea planting is on hold for now. Until soon. Hopefully, very soon.

Second round of seed sowing

2008-02-16T07:58:00.005-05:00

Seeds planted February 3, 2008

Nestled under the grow lights are my latest plantings: three types of peppers and two floral candidates for my flower box project. In peppers, I'm growing the sweet red Buran variety that did very well for me last year. In the second package from the left, I have a new-to-me variety called Bull Nose -- another sweet pepper that I chose for its interesting name. Next are the poblano chiles. Michael loves chiles rellenos, so these are all for him!

In flowers, the stunning blue lobelia has become a staple in my garden. I always start the seeds early in the year because they grow so slowly. Once the plants starts blooming, though, they keep going all summer. With short mounds of tiny blue flowers, lobelia is perfect along edges and tucked at the base of taller plants. I haven't yet found another flower that matches the depth of lobelia's dreamy deep blue.

The last one in the row is Dusty Miller. It's silvery foliage will make a nice filler for the flower boxes. This is the first time I'm trying this one from seed.

Planting Larkspur

2008-02-06T20:57:00.000-05:00

Warmer weather beckoned me outside over the weekend to plant a few seeds. It's still on the early side to direct sow vegetable seeds (though I'm queuing up my President's Day peas), but now -- late winter -- is a good time to start larkspur flowers.

Larkspurs do best in cool weather and can be sown as soon as the soil can be worked. In fact, I learned from past experience that if you plant larkspur seeds too late in the spring, they won't bloom until the following year. Larkspurs are easy to grow from seed, and, though they're listed as an annual flower, they reseed readily here, which makes them seem more like a perennial.

Along one side of our deck is a built-in planter. This is where I transplanted my perennials from the community garden last fall, and it's where I plan to add more flowers this spring. It's the catch-all flower garden for now, until I dig in new borders around the house.

In went the larkspur seeds, and I topped everything off with the clippings from our Christmas wreath. The pine boughs are there partly for recycling, partly to add a little green to all that brown, and, also, to provide some protection for the plants in case we get walloped with a snowstorm yet this winter. Some of our biggest snowstorms in the past have come around President's Day. I wonder what's in store for this year? We were up to around 70 degrees here today, so who knows. I've marked Washington's birthday - February 22 - as the day to sow peas, regardless.
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Related Post: The Larkspur Meadow

Pruning Roses

2008-02-03T18:39:00.000-05:00

A rose by any other name, sure it would smell as sweet, but it would also have thorns that prick and jab mercilessly and make me think pruning is going to be one of my least favorite gardening chores. Ouch, those suckers hurt!

The house we bought came with five shrub roses in the back, and I'm going to do my best to keep them going. I never had roses of my own to care for, so this is all new territory for me.

The current issue of Organic Gardening had a short piece on the basics of rose pruning, so I used that as my guide. It said to prune when the buds begin to swell, and that looks to be right about now.

I clipped the branches at about a quarter inch above the buds. Then I removed some of stems that had no buds at all. There were also a few canes that were dead, so I cut those down to the ground completely. Reaching in to get to the base of the plant was the worst because, man, those branches really do like to cling. I was wearing a down jacket at the time and I thought there'd be feathers flying at one point. Scrape. Rip. Ow!

Pruning helps improve air circulation around the plants, and that, in turn, supposedly wards off common rose diseases. Let's hope so anyway. Those bushes are full of new buds right now. I can't wait to see how they'll do this summer, now that the beastly pruning task is crossed off the list.

February sprouts

2008-02-01T20:55:00.000-05:00

February came in with sheets of frigid rain and pools of water welling up in my yard. On the inside, tender new seedlings pressed mightily toward the light.

Micro greens planted on 1/27/08

However unmerciful the weather may be, my garden inside starts stirring to life this month.

"February arrives cold, wet and gray, her gifts disguised for only the most discerning spirits to see." - Sarah Ban Breathnach

Planting begins!

2008-01-29T19:38:00.000-05:00

This weekend I started sowing a few seeds indoors under the grow lights. I've been feeling hunger pangs for spring greens lately, and I found in my seed bucket an unopened package of "micro greens" -- a freebie from the folks at Botanical Interests. Inside is a mix of beets, cabbage, Swiss chard, kohlrabi and pak choy seeds. All these things, even in miniature form, would ease my craving just fine. Really, though, I think this is more about the urge to coax to life a few tender greens, even if it's not yet enough for a full-bowl salad. The instructions say the seeds can be started inside "anytime under proper lighting." So here we go!

I also planted seeds of Blue Solaize Leeks, and for flowers, I started snapdragons and petunias. I never imagined I'd become a petunia grower -- those things are a dime a dozen at garden centers -- but the previous owner of the house had petunias planted when we moved in, and I saved some of the seeds last fall. I'm working on free plants for the flower boxes along the deck.

Speaking of flower boxes, I'm trying to think of a combination of plants that I could put in the flower boxes at the front the house. It's north-facing, no direct sun, and the boxes, I anticipate, will be dry more often than moist. Any suggestions for good flower combos in such conditions?

Beginner's Guide to Growing Food in DC

2008-01-27T21:09:00.000-05:00

Vegetables I grew at DC's Newark Street Community Garden

Susan Harris of DC Urban Gardeners (and Garden Rant and Sustainable Gardening) asked me recently if I would be willing to compile a basic primer on growing food. On the one hand, I was completely flattered that she asked me to take on this task. On the other, I thought, Who me? The one who dug up and replanted all her potatoes last spring because she thought she'd planted them upside down? (Note to newbie potato growers: Do not repeat my laughable mistake. Potatoes will find their way, even if you put them in the ground with their "eyes" facing downward.)

So, even though I only have four years of veggie growing experience (and a lot of trial and error at that), I compiled a Beginner's Guide to Growing Food in DC. It's posted on the DC Urban Gardeners blog. Please head over there to read it and add your comments. We want this to be a great resource for people who'd like to grow some of their own food here in the local area, and tips from food growers everywhere will be incorporated, too. Please, comment away!

Getting Organized for Seed Sowing

2008-01-19T08:41:00.000-05:00

I started going through the seed catalogs last weekend, trying as best as I could to stick to my list. I needed to order peas, radishes, and potatoes. I also needed tomato and pepper seeds for indoor sowing.

Before I knew it, my pen was a' flyin', circling this and that, and, oh... don't I need to buy a few flower seeds, too? I could hear the "cha-ching" of my escalating bill. Hmm. Maybe I should assess my existing seed stash first, before I get carried away?

I keep my seeds in an old potato chip container. It's so packed full that I almost can't close the lid on it anymore. I've got seed packets in there from when I started gardening four years ago -- many of them still unopened. How did I end up with so many seeds? It's almost too much, even for a pack rat like me.

Almost.

I dug deep into the well of seeds. Did I say I needed to order peas? I found two packages in there -- unopened. Radishes? I found five packets of those, in three varieties. Lettuce? Have I ever got lettuce. And, oh yeah, there are those fava beans I ordered last year and never planted. I'd forgotten about those entirely.

Long story short, I haven't placed a seed order yet because I already have enough to start with. Seeds that are a couple years old still germinate well for many plants, so there's no need to buy too much more. Although... yes, I do plan to treat myself to a few new things I want to try, keeping in mind that I still have to dig those garden beds!

In the end, I sorted some of my vegetable seeds into groups and clipped them together with binder clips. There's one set for sowing outdoors in early spring, another set for sowing indoors under grow lights, and so on. This should help me keep track of what needs to be planted at different times, and I won't have to swim through the sea of a seed bucket every time I need to find something. This is the most organized I've been with my seed sowing endeavors. Ever.

Related Posts: Seed Buying Habits, Saving Seeds

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day

2008-01-15T07:39:00.000-05:00

Earlier this month, I found a few branches that had fallen from the tree in our backyard. It's a flowering pear tree, I think, and I am eager to see what the blossoms will look like this spring -- our first in the new house. Will the flowers be white? Could they be pink?

I brought the branches inside and placed them in this little silver vase I keep on the kitchen windowsill. I've been hoping the warmer indoor air might force the buds open. This weekend when I focused in close with my camera, I saw for the first time the tiniest specks of color inside -- pink!

Also this month, my kalanchoe plant is in full bloom, cheerful in yellow.

Then there's this one, a real surprise to me. My begonia plants are blooming for the first time in more than 10 years! How's that for pulling one out of a hat for the mid-winter edition of Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day?!

Seriously, I've had these begonia plants for more than a decade and they've never bloomed for me. Not even once. In fact, I only knew what begonia flowers look like because the ones in my mom's greenhouse bloom practically nonstop. I think mine decided to bloom now, finally, because I live in a place now were they can get direct sunlight. Hallelujah! Here's to having a room full of sun! I love it, too.

This is how the begonia flowers look up close.

Last but not least, hanging over from last month's Bloom Day is my poinsettia plant. It looks like this festive party-animal-of-a-plant is not going to quit anytime soon. Holding out for double duty on Valentine's Day perhaps? Nah. Doesn't quite work. But it's pretty enough to keep around until it loses its crowning red glory.

Green Thumb Sunday, Mystery

2008-01-13T09:34:00.000-05:00

The previous owners of the house left several unknown-to-us shrubs in the backyard. Two of them now have these dark orange berries that look like they're getting "squeezed" from their pods. Can anyone help me identify what plant this is? Please?

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Free subscription to Organic Gardening

2008-01-12T09:52:00.000-05:00

Now you can have your yogurt and get a free gardening magazine, too! Stonyfield Farm and Organic Gardening are teaming up to offer a special deal for gardeners. From now through January 31, 2008, if you mail in four (clean) specially-marked lids of Stonyfield yogurt, they'll sign you up for a FREE one-year subscription to Organic Gardening magazine.

I already subscribe to Organic Gardening and I love it. It's one of the few gardening magazines I've seen that has great information on growing vegetables. And they're good articles, too, with detailed information and growing tips that are relevant to "newbies" and "masters." It's not just a bunch of glossy photos of meticulously cared for perennial borders. I'm a big fan.

A wildlife-friendly garden

2008-01-07T22:17:00.000-05:00

Downy woodpecker at the suet feeder

Though the garden is at rest these days, my backyard brims with activity. Here's the typical scene: A flock of house sparrows assaults the bird feeder. Two squirrels guard the base of the tree and gorge themselves on fallen seeds. Three more squirrels chase one another through the tree, down the fence, onto the roof. The nuthatches and woodpeckers -- downies and red-bellies -- jockey for a place at the suet feeder. Carolina Wren, tail turned high, lines up for a bite, too. Mourning doves, sometimes as many as 15, amble across the yard, oblivious to the squirrels' antics. Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal announce their stately presence with their characteristic "chip, chip." Dainty chickadees, "chick-a-dee-dee-dee." Then Cooper's Hawk occasionally swoops down and startles everything into hiding. Except, of course, for the squirrels. The Squirrels. Who Just. Keep. Eating.

To say I have a wildlife-friendly yard is an understatement. Sometimes it's a veritable zoo out there. It's amazing how many critters will show up at a simple tube of mixed birdseed and a slab of rendered pork fat. It's a boosted chance at winter survival for the birds, and precious moments of simple entertainment for me.

In the spring, I plan to swap out the seed and suet feeders and cater, instead, to the nectar-eating birds. The bird of all birds I hope to attract to my garden is a Baltimore Oriole -- the state bird of Maryland. They apparently like nectar, oranges, and grape jelly. A bit high maintenance, aren't they?

Beyond setting up bird feeding stations, though, I've been thinking about ways to organize my garden with specific plants that will attract wildlife naturally. I'd like to put in some cosmos, coreopsis, and bachelor's buttons for the goldfinches. Monarda for the hummingbirds. Zinnias for butterflies. Not only do I think about what I want to eat from the garden; I think about what all the critters like to eat, too. (And that works both ways, of course, as I'll have to devise ways to keep rabbits out of the lettuce patch.)

The National Wildlife Federation recently put out a series of tip sheets for maintaining a backyard wildlife habitat. Included are simple steps one can take to reduce their lawn, install bird feeders and nest boxes, attract butterflies, and more. Check out the one that's titled Neighborhood-friendly Wildlife Gardening. See the photo of the ladybug on the front? That's the work of none other than yours truly. It's a photo I took when I had my garden plot in the District -- a ladybug on larkspur flowers. I was thrilled to contribute the photo to a cause I support.

Garden Plans for 2008

2008-01-01T13:07:00.000-05:00

A turn of the calendar page, and so it begins; my new garden for 2008 is springing to life. At least on paper it is. The seed catalogs absorb me like the first rain to a sun-parched soil, pulling me in willingly with their beautifully written biographies of heirloom vegetables. A trickle of ideas becomes a deluge of possibilities. Can I make room for Paul Robeson's tomato? Is there space for the Gill Brothers' Golden Pippin Squash? Is there just one spare corner for Alan Chadwick's lettuce? It is so difficult to show restraint, but I know I must. The garden in which this cast of characters will cavort doesn't yet even exist. Maybe the better analogy for a seed catalog is not biography, but fantasy novel?

So I'm trying to organize the garden by asking myself and my husband a practical question: What do we want to eat each season? Let's make our plans from there.

We put to paper a list of what we hope to harvest from our garden this spring, summer, fall, and, yes, even winter. This list, I hope, will keep me focused on what's desired and what's possible -- especially when the newest seed catalogs drop at my doorstep. Then I can pick and choose accordingly among all those tempting heirlooms. We have one raised garden bed in which to plant the vegetables and fruits of our choice for spring. After that, we've got a lot of digging to do. A lot of digging... to make room for all the rest.

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"Farming looks mighty easy when your plow is a pencil and you're a thousand miles from the corn field." - Dwight David Eisenhower

All is Calm, All is Bright

2007-12-18T21:12:00.000-05:00

Signing off now for an end-of-year break, I wish my readers a pleasant and joyful holiday season. Christmas sets my focus on family and friends, and time for quiet reflection on the year gone past. I thank all of you who've stopped by this year to read about my garden, share your advice, and just plain cheer me on at times. I appreciate your comments, always.

Join me back here in January for more adventures in my garden. Already my mind is stirring with ideas. We're planning to put in three new raised beds, a rain barrel, and some type of dog- and rabbit-prevention fence. Oh, and we're already salivating at the thought of having more fresh herbs just steps from the door.

Yesterday I received the new catalog from Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds. If you enjoy growing heirloom vegetables, don't miss this catalog. (And if you've never grown a vegetable of any sort in you life, why not resolve to try in 2008?) With twelve pages of tomatoes alone, including varieties called Ferris Wheel, Pink Accordion, Break O' Day, and Thai Red Turtle Egg, I guarantee something in this catalog will pique your curiosity. Have you ever seen a white tomato? Baker Creek offers five varieties of white, plus pink, orange, green, and striped tomatoes. You'll think you slipped into the pages of a Dr. Seuss book. Head over to Baker Creek to order a catalog. Then dream, dream, dream your garden wishes for 2008!

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day: December

2007-12-15T07:52:00.000-05:00

Icy weather is in the forecast for our area today. I am crossing my fingers in hope that some of it will come in the form of snow. This gardener relishes the occasion to swap out the muddy shoes for a pair of cozy slippers, pull on a puffy woolen sweater, and wrap clean hands around a piping hot cup of cocoa. Time to curl up inside.

Just a week away from the official start of winter, we're at another edition of Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day. All of us gardeners in cold places are looking at our houseplants with a new found appreciation. Yes, there is something blooming in December.

I have my real estate agent to thank for the brilliant red poinsettia in the top photo. It was a thoughtful gift he brought to brighten our first Christmas in our new home.

I know I need to really enjoy this plant while it lasts, because once it fades, it's off to the compost heap it goes. The month-by-month instructions on how to get a poinsettia to re-bloom are a bit daunting to me. More trouble than it's worth. Thank goodness we have garden centers for these.

My African Violet is the Energizer Bunny of plants. This one (well, it has multiplied into two plants now) has been blooming since September. It just keeps going and going. I do nothing more than water it once a week and it remains perfectly content. If someone were to ask what I recommend for a long-blooming houseplant, an African Violet would be at the top of my list.

Buds count for Bloom Day too, don't they? This Kalanchoe plant that my mom gave me last Easter is setting up new buds again. I won't reveal the color of the flowers just yet. They might be the only blooms I'll have to show in January. If I even notice them in January, that is. My face will be planted in all the new seed catalogs then, my feet still cozy in slippers.

Oma's Hazelnut Cookies

2007-12-09T17:45:00.000-05:00

It wouldn't be the holidays without Oma's -- my grandmother's -- hazelnut cookies. They've been a staple in my family's Christmas cookie repertoire for as long as I've known Christmas.

When I was a kid, the making of these cookies always started the same way. Dad would take a bagful of hazelnuts -- nutcracker in one hand, a couple of empty bowls in the other. He'd sit in his comfortable living room chair and, one by one, he'd crack each nut, reserving the whole ones in one bowl, the broken ones in another.

Meanwhile, mom would help us kids set up the nut grinder -- an old-fashioned metal contraption that we clamped down to the end of a spare and somewhat wobbly table. Once the nuts were all cracked, it was on to the grinding operation. We dropped a few nuts at a time into the hopper, followed by a snug-fitting wooden block that we used to push them down to the grinder wheel. One hand pressed on the block while the other gave a few cranks of the handle... squeak, rattle, squeak, rattle... and out came the fine dust of ground nuts. (I'll bet mom and dad still have that old nut grinder tucked away in a closet somewhere. It's now a family heirloom.)

To the kitchen mom went to mix the ground hazelnuts into a batter. My next task was to add a dollop of cinnamon-scented meringue to the top of each cookie, followed by one of the unbroken hazelnuts my dad set aside. Then into the oven they went, filling our house with the fragrance of Christmas as they baked.

In recent years, my mom told me she often uses almonds in these cookies now. Almonds are more readily available in shelled form, and they give the cookies an equally wonderful flavor. Always, though, they are topped with whole hazelnuts. It's the tradition!

Oma's Hazelnut Cookies

1/2 pound hazelnuts or almonds (or a combination of the two), finely ground
1/2 pound confectioners' sugar
3 egg whites at room temperature
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1/2 "Messerspitze" of cinnamon (about a 1/2 teaspoon)

Pre-heat oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit. Beat egg whites while adding sugar a little at a time. Beat until the batter is soft like marshmallow. Stir in vanilla and cinnamon. Set aside 1/2 cup of the meringue. Mix in ground nuts by hand. Place by spoonfuls on parchment-lined cookie sheet. Top with a dab of the reserved meringue. Push a whole hazelnut into the meringue to top each cookie. Bake for about 20 minutes until they're light brown. Makes about 3 dozen cookies.

This recipe is my contribution to the 2007 Festive Food Fair, hosted by Anna at Morsels & Musings. This blogging event, now in its second year, celebrates holiday food traditions from all over the world. Last year, Anna collected 67 mouthwatering recipes!
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Related post: Pfeffernusse Cookies

Green Thumb Sunday, First Snow

2007-12-09T10:31:00.000-05:00

Wednesday brought us the season's first snowfall here -- nearly four inches. Wrapped in a white crystalline blanket, the chard in the garden still looked delicious to me. It would look even better in a steaming bowl of hot soup, though, wouldn't it?

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Bringing in the Tree

2007-12-04T20:00:00.000-05:00

Selecting and cutting our own Christmas tree is by far a richer experience than simply choosing one from a lot. Our tree this year carries with it the memories of a bright and chilly first day of December, laughter in the field as we set out on our search, the neighs of the horses in a pasture nearby, and whiffs of fresh fir catching our cold noses as the tree was sawed from its roots. A complimentary cup of hot apple cider afterwards completed the full sensory experience.

There is always a part of me that is saddened when a tree is cut, but taken inside, we honor and adorn this tree with cherished ornaments that remind us of the places, events, and most importantly, the people, in our now and past. It's a celebration of life on so many levels really.

We chose our tree from Butler's Orchard in Germantown, Maryland, a local farm that will surely beckon me back in the warmer months for its pick-your-own blueberries and strawberries. But for now, we turn inward and enjoy all the good things that are ushered in with December.

A tree half empty, or half full?

2007-11-28T06:36:00.000-05:00

In a recent conversation with my dad, he said he was disappointment with the apple trees he planted several years ago. They haven't ever bloomed for him -- not in at least seven years -- and things aren't looking good for next spring either. I wondered how he could predict a blossom-less spring, and then my mom pointed out that the trees hadn't set buds this summer. Of course. Right. No buds now, no blooms next spring.

With that, I realized something I never noticed before. Trees set up their buds in the summer to prepare for the following spring. It makes complete sense. I just never paid attention to it. But now, as the autumn leaves peel away from the trees -- my trees, in my own yard -- I've been noticing buds. Everywhere.

I used to look at autumn differently: colors giving way to lifeless browns and grays. Now I see trees pulling back their colorful curtains to reveal a stage newly set for a lively spring scene. I saw it again yesterday, as the wind caught the leaves of the tree right outside my back window. Michael and I have enjoyed watching this tree make its gradual turn from green to yellow to red, and now brown. The tree may be slipping into its dull hibernation, and yet I see it plump with the promise of new life. New buds. Isn't it funny how our perspectives on something can change when we take the time to notice the little details?

Bulbs 50% off, just past the light-up reindeer

2007-11-25T16:57:00.000-05:00

So we were cruising the aisles of Home Depot today. Winter weatherizing and a few other home improvement items were on the brain. Christmas, meanwhile, was being pushed at us at every turn, whether we liked it or not. Could they crank up the carols any louder?

I found respite in the garden center, however, when I came across a bin marked with a hastily handwritten sign: Spring Bulbs 50% Off. How could I avoid the temptation of 50% off? And especially now that my resistance was down, having just passed a display of hideous light-up and inflatable lawn ornaments stacked high to the ceiling. I couldn't. I didn't.

I picked my way through the dregs at the bottom of the bin and came up with one bag of 'Remembrance' crocus bulbs and one bag of muscari (grape hyacinth). The tulips tempted me, but I knew they wouldn't stand a chance against the squirrels. (Notice I wrote squirrels, plural, since the little buggers come in multiples now.)

I don't know if these bulbs are squirrel-proof, but at half price, here's to trying. I planted most of them under one of the trees in our backyard, and I put a few next to the azaleas out front.

Sage Leaves - Now and Then

2007-11-16T18:03:00.000-05:00

My most popular post this time of year, by far, is the one I wrote about the sage infused turkey brine we tested last year. Lots of folks are looking for ways to prepare their Thanksgiving turkey, no doubt. We certainly enjoyed the brined version, although it was a tad on the salty side. (The saltiness, though, can be tempered by gobs of sweet-tart cranberry sauce, in my opinion.)

The featured ingredient in last year's brine came from my own sage plant, which suffered a case of severe wilting during the summer. I cut away all the afflicted parts of the plant and left just one strong stem that still had healthy leaves. The plant kept going for me and now here it is after we moved it into our new garden bed. It's much smaller now compared to last spring, but if you look closely you can see the tiny new leaves forming on it. Their fragrance is divine. Just one whiff and I'm transported to the Thanksgiving table (without having to peel all the potatoes).

The red leaves in the top photo of this post don't have anything to do with the sage. I just picked them up while I was in the garden. I thought they were a pretty contrast -- in color and texture -- to the soft sage leaves.

I didn't have anything to post for Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day yesterday. With the exception of a pair of faded red roses, my garden is all finished blooming now. The leaves of the trees, though, are all ablaze at their peak of brilliance.

"Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower." - Albert Camus

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Seasons turning in the garden box

2007-11-13T17:19:00.001-05:00

New garlic rising

Sometimes loss is predictable, like the falling leaves that comfortably jostle our senses each autumn. Sometimes it catches us by surprise. I occasionally get a glimpse of something in my garden that reminds me loss and life go on.

Green Thumb Sunday: Water Seeker

2007-11-04T09:19:00.000-05:00

Cyperus involucratus

Nearly two years ago, my brother gave us a few clippings of his papyrus plant. He grows it in a pot that he places outside in his water lily pond during the summer. During the blustery Zone 6 winters, he brings it back inside.

Our papyrus -- or umbrella plant, as it's also called -- eked out its living in our dimly lit apartment for two years. Now it loves its newfound home in the bright sun of our backyard. This is how it looked in the early morning light after a recent night of heavy rain. Fresh. Alive. Much more content for a plant that originates from the wetlands.

The stems of this plant grow to about two or three feet tall and then bend over to find water in which to root. We have our potted papyrus inside now and are trying to get a few more young plants started from cuttings.

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To my table via Waltham, Massachusetts -- And where to next?

2007-10-30T07:47:00.000-04:00

Waltham Butternut squash was first bred in Waltham, Massachusetts in the 1960s, though the plants from which it was derived were here long before then. By some estimates, Cucurbita moschata has been cultivated in the Americas for more than 5,000 years.

The butternut squash I grew in the community garden this summer ended its epoch journey recently. From Waltham, Mass., to Washington, D.C., from just one sprawling plant that I nearly killed at the beginning of the growing season, I achieved this plentiful harvest: seven humongous butternuts in all. We've used two of them in soups already, while the third we gave away to a friend. The rest await their fate, perhaps in a comforting risotto or, if I'm feeling ambitious, homemade raviolis or empanadas. Then again, I like it just plain baked too.

One of the great qualities of butternut squash is that it stores well, so I don't have to be in mad dash to find uses for these right away. Nevertheless, I am eager to try them in new recipes -- something besides soup. What's your favorite way to eat butternut squash? Actually, let's try something new here. Tell me what you think I should cook with one of these squashes. Leave your ideas in the comments. I'll make whatever turns out to be the most popular suggestion, either by using a recipe or by just making something up. I'll post the result, with photos of course. Tell me: How should one of these butternuts meet its end?

I picked plenty o' peppers

2007-10-24T07:20:00.000-04:00

How many peppers did I pick this summer? Plenty! So many that I didn't even bother to count them. These are just a few of the beauties I pulled during my last visit to the community garden. The dark ones are Purple Beauty bells, which look almost chocolate-colored to me. (Then again, I see many foods through chocolate-colored glasses.) The red one is a Buran heirloom pepper.

This was my first year growing bell peppers and the results exceeded my expectations. Compared to the peppers I usually see in the grocery stores, my peppers were only about half the size, a little thinner, and slightly less sweet, but they were beautifully shaped and infinitely fresher than the ones I usually see on Aisle One. Furthermore, I didn't have to scrub them like crazy to remove chemicals; these were grown organically (as are all my veggie crops). I think the best part about them, though, was how wonderful they smelled while they were baking in the oven. A deep and warm peppery fragrance permeated the far reaches of the house as they cooked.

I made stuffed purple peppers filled with a mixture of cooked rice, sausage, garlic, onions, and chopped red peppers, all bathed in our homemade tomato sauce. Notice how the purple pepper pulled a fast one on me and turned green during the cooking process. I read in the current issue of Organic Gardening that one can prevent this chameleon-like change from occurring in purple cauliflower by adding a little lemon juice or vinegar while it cooks. I wonder if the same is true with purple peppers?

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Pepper growing season in review:
I'll take the peppers, hold the chemicals, please
The Heat is On... the pepper seeds
Pluck, there goes the pepper blossom
First bell pepper
Pepper salsa
Sweet pepper crostini

The Grapevine is Alive

2007-10-21T10:39:00.000-04:00

I was on my way out the door Thursday morning when I decided to make a quick run to the backyard to see if the spinach seeds I'd planted days earlier were showing any signs of life. They weren't. And I was disappointed to realize I'd probably planted them too late. Again. Curses.

But then something caught the corner of my eye. It was not at all what I was looking for, especially since now I was accustomed to turning my glance away from the sad sight that was our shriveled-up grapevine.

Is that...? What... ? Are those... ? NEW LEAVES!? I had to reach out and touch one to convince myself it was real.

I can't believe it. It's alive. Our grapevine is still alive!

Of all the plants we moved from the District to Maryland, the grapevine suffered the most from its uprooting. (The butterfly bush is a near goner too, but more about that later.) As we dug the plant from the ground, I remember how surprised I was at how long its roots had grown; it was a mere twig when we received it from our friend last April. How awful it felt to tear its fragile veins from the earth. Within moments, its leaves wilted to a crisp. I'd never seen a plant wither so quickly, so severely.

That was three weeks ago when we did all our transplanting. Since then, I'd been diligently watering our grapevine's skeleton, even though I was convinced I would see no gasp of a lifeline until next spring. If ever.

And then there it was. A tiny new leaf. And then another. And another.

For as quickly as the plant wilted during the move, it now appears equally as quick to come back to life. I am once again amazed at how resilient plants can be. And I am beyond words to say how happy we are. Our little grapevine is still alive.

Planting Garlic and Daffodils

2007-10-16T07:32:00.000-04:00

We had plenty of garlic left over from this summer's crop, so I didn't have to buy any new seed garlic this year. I selected three of our largest bulbs and planted the individual cloves about four inches deep in the cool earth of our newly made garden bed. It was enough for three short rows, all lined up next to our still-ailing grapevine.

I also spent some time this weekend finding new homes for the daffodil bulbs I brought with me from the community garden. I wanted to plant a few under the maple tree in our front yard. I thought it would be a great way to initiate the de-lawning process and stake out a few surprises for next spring. But my efforts were quickly thwarted once I tried tapping into the extremely dry, clay soil. I struggled to remove just one small shovel's worth of sod, and then I hit one of the tree's roots. Not good.

I gave up on that idea and instead tucked the bulbs into the borders along the house, where there there was, surprise, more tough soil disguised under a thin layer of mulch and sprawling azalea roots. It was no easy task to get through all that, and I surely hope the bulbs will make it. Not only are they in tough soil, but they also have to survive the dreaded squirrel, who visits daily now. Wherever I dig, the squirrel soon follows. It's so frustrating. If I see any daffodils in my spring garden, I will be pleased!

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day

2007-10-15T06:51:00.000-04:00

Thanks to the gardeners who lived in this house before me, I am enjoying an inheritance of potted petunias...

Bright red geraniums on the porch...

A few colorful coleus plants...

... and red roses that smell absolutely divine. There are six red rose bushes that line the perimeter of the backyard. These are my first rose bushes. I'll have to read up on them because I don't know the slightest thing about rose care. (Do I prune them in the fall or spring?)

From the community garden in the District, I brought along several of my perennial flowers. I planted them along the deck, which is where they'll hold out for the winter until I decide on permanent places for them.

One of my Black-eyed Susans waves goodbye, until next summer.

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Gardeners share their flowers on the 15th of each month for Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day. Read the comments at May Dreams Gardens to see who else is participating today.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Related post: August Bloom Day

Building the Raised Bed - Part Two

2007-10-03T21:00:00.000-04:00

With the sod stripped from the ground, it's off to Home Depot we go. We needed boards, brackets, topsoil. Lots and lots of topsoil. I was already achy and tired at this point, and halfway through the task of heaving 20 heavy, one-cubic-foot bags of soil onto the truck, I found myself quoting out loud The Inadvertent Gardener's tagline: It's amazing what we'll do for a few good tomatoes. I was feeling finished for the day, but I knew we still had to unload those 20 bags, construct the bed frame, and pour all the soil into place.

Michael christened the power tools and aligned the freshly cut boards to make the frame. Then came the topsoil, ready for an instant garden.

This is certainly not the only way to build a garden, and perhaps not even the best way, but we were up against time. Since we are no longer residents of the District of Columbia, we had to give up our membership in the community garden. I wanted to save as many of the plants from our plot as possible, for one, because we invested a lot of time in getting things established over the past four years, and, two, because many of the plants have sentimental value. With a glance at the calendar, we found ourselves with limited available weekend time to work on this project, and we know the first frost will be bearing down on us soon. We took on this task in a "now or never" frame of mind. Saturday we built the bed, Sunday we dug many of the plants from our plot and transported them here.

The plants were not at all happy about the move, and they appear to be in shock. I expected this to happen. We did the best we could under the circumstances, though, and now I'm eagerly watching to see if everything will recover. The herbs look like they're doing okay, but the grapevine appears to be toast.

Our friend Albertino gave us that grapevine, so we're really hoping it will pull through. The trellis it's clinging to for dear life also came from our plot, also for sentimental reasons. We have a grand plan to grow grapes over an arbor in our yard, all stemming from this one plant. Here's hoping it survives. Here's hoping anything survives.

Building the Raised Bed - Part One

2007-10-01T21:52:00.000-04:00

This weekend we broke ground on our new vegetable garden and moved all the plants from our plot in the District of Columbia to our new home in Maryland. It's Monday night now and I still have the residual aches and pains to remind me of all we did to accomplish this endeavor. Ouch.

There's no question about it: the first step -- cutting up sod -- has got to be the worst part of building a garden from scratch. I would tap at the ground and the ground would just about throw the shovel back at me. Even with the rain we had on Friday, the soil was tough and dry. Michael used his muscle power (and the better of the two shovels we had) to chisel the turf from its stubborn grip. Then I came along and ripped away the loosened-but-still-heavy clumps, one dusty piece at a time.

Initially we cut an eight by three and a half foot section, but then expanded it to ten feet. The width is just right to allow me to reach comfortably to the middle of the bed from either side.

When I stood back to admire at what we accomplished, I laughed. It looked like we dug a grave in our backyard!

Michael posed for this photo to demonstrate the sheer exhaustion we felt afterwards. I was laughing so hard when I took this picture. I can only image what the neighbors must be saying about us already.

Green Thumb Sunday, Flower Box

2007-09-30T09:18:00.000-04:00

The previous owners of the house, Mr. and Mrs. T., left their flower boxes on the deck for us. I have two of these filled with pink and red impatiens, and one with petunias. How nice it was to move in to the graces of an instant flower garden!

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Squirrel vs. Arugula Seedlings

2007-09-25T19:38:00.000-04:00

I love the way the sun gleams across our backyard in the morning. Ah, our own backyard, I say to myself with a grin on my face as I listen to the various birds serenading me with their trills and chirps. There are catbirds, mockingbirds, cardinals, and more. I hear the hushed repetitive beeps of a nuthatch I am eager to spot soon.

This morning's scan of the back-of-the-house vista was abruptly interrupted, however, when my eyes fell upon a clump of soil heaped up and spilling over the edges of the pot that contains the arugula seeds I planted a week ago. What the ?!

I rushed out back to find a hole dug deep down into my container garden, the only bit of vegetable garden I have here at the moment. It looks like the work of a squirrel. I have a squirrel conspiring against me already!?

The Suspect

Moments later, I saw a plumper-than-usual squirrel sitting on the fence, rather brazenly munching on a nut of some sort. These suburban squirrels are much fatter than the city squirrels, I see, presumably because they have lots of easily accessible ground where they can store up their foodstuffs! Now with all this available yard, the squirrel had to pick the one place where I planted a bit of food for myself: right there in the nice clean, fluffy, purchased soil. Smart squirrel. Disappointed arugula grower.

He looks guilty, doesn't he?

Yes, you!

A New Garden in the Making

2007-09-18T21:12:00.000-04:00

We've been in our new home for a little more than a week now. I'm getting acquainted with everything: new sights, new sounds (crickets instead of sirens, peacefully), and a collection of plants and shrubs that are still strangers to me. The previous owners of the house left us with good landscaping, wonderful trees, and a couple of lovely container plants on the deck. There are so many possibilities for our new garden and yard; it is at once exciting and overwhelming. Where do we begin?

Over the past few days, we've been making observations to help us orient our new vegetable garden. How does the yard look as the sun passes through the sky? Where is there shade during the day? Which trees and shrubs cast the longest shadows? Which area gets at least five to six hours of full sun? Realizing that we're at the end of the main gardening season, we're thinking carefully about the placement of our new garden beds so that we can maximize use of the available sunlight throughout the year.

Michael measured and marked off one possible plan, laying out the beds in a north to south direction. That will place our garden diagonally in the backyard. At first I was uncomfortable with that. (A diagonal garden? Shouldn't it been neatly and squarely tucked into a corner?) But it all comes down to where we have the most sunlight, so diagonal it is. And, actually, it's looking like the best place for the beds would be... smack dab in the middle of the yard. We're taking time to figure it all out. I wouldn't be surprised if Michael pulls out a protractor at some point. This design stuff is all his territory.

While the planning is underway, today I planted arugula seeds in a small terracotta planter. The seeds are the ones I saved from the arugula I grew this year in our community garden plot. The old garden gives way to the new. How exciting it is to start growing food on the deck of our own home. I can't wait to do more. Much more.

Sweet Pepper Crostini

2007-09-06T23:50:00.000-04:00

The garden is gifting me these brilliant jewels: sweet peppers in a showy display of shapes and colors.

My inspiration for a way to cook them came at a place and time when I least expected it. I was waiting with goosebumps in an overly air-conditioned doctor's office one day, with thoughts of the sweltering summer garden farthest from my mind. Thumbing through a well-worn edition of Gourmet magazine, I came across a recipe that combined diced chicken and bell peppers with cumin and thyme, the final mixture stacked on a pool of chickpea hummus. The marriage of sweet peppers with smoky cumin piqued my curiosity, and then and there I etched a note in my mind: If peppers from the garden start piling up in abundance, try cooking them with cumin.

And so it was with this invention of mine. I sliced the peppers and combined them with a few generous dashes of ground cumin, a little olive oil, and one minced clove of fresh garlic. No more than ten minutes under the broiler and there I had a rainbow of wonderfully fragrant pepper ribbons, still slightly crisp to the bite.

On toasted slices of a baguette, I added a dollop of room-temperature hummus and my Crayola-colored combination of cooled-down peppers. A few dashes of paprika and olive oil gave my crostini appetizers their final flourish.

They were crisp, creamy, and sweet all at once. A small feast for the eyes and stomach of a gardener who worked hard to grow the star ingredient.

The Butterfly Bush

2007-08-31T22:36:00.000-04:00

My favorite plant in the garden right now is the butterfly bush. As an Easter gift this year, my Aunt M gave me a cutting from the plant in her Pennsylvania backyard. I was so excited to receive what appeared to be just a stick in a pot of mud, a few of its tiny leaves clinging on for dear life. I have long admired butterfly bushes at the community garden and secretly wanted one of my own. I just didn't think I'd have room for one.

Infant butterfly bush, April 24, 2007

I made room for this one. This was not just any butterfly bush, after all, this was Aunt M's Butterfly Bush. I will always find a place in my garden for pass-along plants like this.

All summer long I witnessed the gradual resuscitation of that stick with the little leaves. I wasn't sure if it would bloom in its first year in a new place, but now in August, my Easter gift is alive with sweetly-scented purple plumes. I stand beside the cascading flowers and smile at the tangle of butterflies dancing about blissfully. Aunt M's gift was more than a plant from her garden; she gave me these delightful winged visitors, too.

"The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough."
- Rabindranath Tagore

Saving Seeds

2007-08-26T21:04:00.000-04:00

Winter Radish Seeds

While reading Barbara Kingsolver's new book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, I found myself stumbling over this statistic: "Modern U.S. consumers now get to taste less than 1 percent of the vegetable varieties that were grown here a century ago."

And this: "Six companies -- Monsanto, Syngenta, DuPont, Mitsui, Aventis, and Dow -- now control 98 percent of the world's seed sales."

Does anyone else find this alarming?

Arugula Seeds

My effort to save more seeds from the garden this year was driven by one part curiosity, one part frugality, and one part defiance against the way big corporations are running our food system. What happens when seed ownership falls into the hands of fewer and fewer people? We lose flavors and nutrients, we lose plant and wildlife diversity, we lose knowledge of what's in our food and how it's produced. We get genetically modified soy, canola and corn, and cheap high fructose corn syrup.

Red Russian Kale Seeds

Kingsolver's book gave me hope, as she and her family chronicled their year of eating local and homegrown food. They didn't go hungry, they didn't go broke, and it sounds like the entire family discovered many beautiful things along the journey. Their eloquently told story, with intermissions of seasonal recipes, made me want to do more to connect with food and food traditions. I want to grow my own asparagus, make cheese, and taste a turkey that wasn't born in a test tube. For simpler starters, I'm making a commitment to buy more heirloom vegetable seeds and saving seeds from the garden.

Onion Seeds

Here lie the seeds of future meals. I know saving seeds is just one small gesture, but it gives me hope. It's hope not to lose more beautiful things in this world, before we even realize what's missing.

Tomato Sauce: Liquid summer sun

2007-08-21T21:08:00.000-04:00

After months of nurturing -- from the placement of seeds to the careful watering of plants to the fending off of hungry birds and diseases -- it all comes down to this: the sauce. Growing the tomatoes is the most challenging part. Making them into sauce is as easy as pie. (Pizza pie, anyone?)

I begin the process of making tomato sauce by roasting our San Marzano tomatoes. Included are pieces of our homegrown garlic, salt and pepper, and a few drizzles of olive oil.

Once the tomatoes are soft from their baking, I press them gently through the food mill. Their skins and seeds give way, and I'm left with a brilliant red nectar.

To that I add a handful of fragrant, freshly picked herbs: thyme, oregano, and basil. The sauce simmers and thickens and fills my every breath with the essence of summer days.

I ladle the sauce into containers, where it will freeze until summoned to adorn future meals. I find myself stooped over the pot just then, slurping every last drop to its lip-smacking end. A long journey of tomato growing concludes with this soul-filling satisfaction: liquid summer sun at the bottom of a pot. I smile at the thought of having garden-touched meals to warm cooler days ahead.

Help me make a new clematis plant

2007-08-17T19:53:00.000-04:00

With the move less than a month away, it's time to get serious about figuring out how we're going to transfer the perennials from the plot to the new backyard. We'll first move our worldly possessions from apartment to house, and then we'll spend some time designing our new garden. My goal is to get our perennials from here to there all in one piece and in time enough to allow them to settle into the ground before the first frost. We're staying in the same grow zone (USDA Zone 7), so everything that grows here should also grow at the new house.

My Sweet Autumn Clematis is one of the plants I'd like to take to our new home. Actually, it's not "my" clematis; it's Sarah's, the woman who occupied the plot before me. Perhaps it was planted by someone even before her.

I have grown to love that clematis plant as if I'd planted it here with my own two hands. All through the summer it slowly stretches its leafy tendrils, draping a thick green blanket over the fence between the my plot and Elana's. In September that blanket will burst into white -- a snowfall of tiny star-shaped flowers.

Rather than digging out the whole plant, my plan is to start a new one from a cutting. I did some research and learned that clematis plants can be propagated by a process called layering. This means I would have to sink one of the stems (still on the parent plant) into the soil so it could sprout roots. The problem is, none of the branches are close enough to reach the soil; they're all up high on the fence. So I cut a few branches and put them in a glass of water, thinking they would grow roots that way. No such luck. It has been two weeks and no roots have appeared yet. I'm feeling like I need to go to Plan B.

This is where I need your help, fellow gardeners. What is Plan B? What's the best way to start a new clematis plant from a cutting?

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day

2007-08-15T21:04:00.000-04:00

Bittersweet moments characterized my photo shoot today, as I realized I was preparing my last Bloom Day post from the community garden. I am likely to see these flowers in another place, in another August, but never again quite like here. Come along with me as I say farewell to my garden plot, in the language of flowers.

Bells of Ireland and Calendula

Zinnias

Black-eyed Susan

Hyacinth Beans

Dahlias

Coreopsis

Sedum

Butterfly Bush

Mexican Sunflower

Calendula

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Related Posts:
Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day - July
Leaving the Plot

I am woman, watch me mow

2007-08-11T20:34:00.000-04:00

The ink on the house contract was barely dry when my husband and I started our discussion about the lawn. What kind of lawn mower should we get?

For me, there's no question; it's got to be a push reel mower. There's no way I could bring myself to use one of those malodorous, gas-guzzling gadgets. One hour of mowing with a gas-powered mower produces about the same amount of air pollution as a 100-mile car ride. And our own Environmental Protection Agency estimates that 800 million gallons of gas are used in lawn mowers each year, producing 5 percent of the nation's air pollution. I'm not okay with that.

Michael agrees about getting a reel mower, but he also thinks we should buy an old gas-powered clunker to do the bulk of the work until we get our garden beds put in. I said no way.

"Do you know how hard it is to use those reel mowers?" he asked. "It will take forever to cut the lawn with one of those things."

He was trying desperately to sway the opinion of a stubborn wife whose mind, he knew, was already made up.

"Oh, I don't mind at all. I will do it," I said. "I will take charge of cutting the lawn."

"Yeah, but how's it going to look to the neighbors if they see me sending my wife out there to cut the entire yard with one of those things?" he asked, still unsuccessful in trying to sway me toward the gas guzzler.

"Who cares what the neighbors think? Women can and do mow lawns, you know. And plenty of them use reel mowers (somewhere, I'm sure). Maybe the neighbors will think my reel mower is the coolest thing. No noise. No stink. I'll get exercise and plenty of fresh air. What's not to like about that?"

And then I popped up out of my chair, held my arms straight in front of me (as if standing in imaginary lawn-mowing stance), and sang in my sprightliest voice to the tune of Helen Reddy's "I am Woman, Hear me Roar."

I am woman, watch me mow... I've got two more rows to go!

Husband rolls eyes. The lawn mower discussion continues...

Peppers Picked

2007-08-08T20:13:00.000-04:00

Buran (red), Purple Beauty, and Banana Peppers

Today's 100-degree Fahrenheit heat felt like something only a pepper could love. And they do. This was the colorful collection of capsicums I picked from our garden over the weekend.

Peppers with their charred skins pulled away

With a series of soft crackling and popping noises emanating from our kitchen, I heard the peppers surrendering their skins to the bright blue flames of our stove. The red ones stayed red, while the purple one revealed its inner green soul. All the while, the strong smell of charred peppers transported me imaginatively to someplace else: a kitchen in faraway Mexico perhaps.

We used the charred peppers in a salsa combined with our Brandywine tomatoes and a few of our weep-me-a-waterfall onions. The sweet tomatoes tempered the onions' sharpness and provided mercy for our tear ducts. A balsamic vinaigrette tied everything together, peacefully.

The dazzling sweet summer concoction topped our Sunday-night salmon dinner.

Taste the Fruit

2007-08-06T21:25:00.001-04:00

Our watermelon plant produced only one melon,
but what a fine melon it was.
~~~
"Live in each season as it passes;
breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit."
- Henry David Thoreau

Leaving the Plot

2007-08-03T18:54:00.000-04:00

It is with mixed emotions that I write today's post. My husband and I are about to embark on the next grand adventure in our lives: We bought a house! And we are exceedingly excited about making a home that we can call our own. This means I will be leaving my little garden plot that has become such a cherished part of my life for the past four years (and the inspiration for this blog). Actually, it's not so much the plot itself that I will miss; it is the people. I can dig up my herbs and flower bulbs and cart them along with me (and I will), but I can't take the people who give this place its true spirit. There are people here whose personalities are imprinted on me indelibly. Without them, the community garden is just a jumble of fences, an anonymous array of flowers, and some struggling tomato plants. All together, we've made an extraordinary place here in the city. I am certain I will miss it.

I must press forward now because moving day will be here before I know it. Where I'm going, there is ample space for a vegetable garden -- a bigger vegetable garden -- and I am excited about all the possibilities that lie before me. All of a sudden, I will also have trees, shrubs, and a lawn. Oh, my! A lawn! I will probably spend about two seconds leaping through that lawn -- a celebratory cartwheel or two fueled by the glee of home ownership -- and then that boring turf has got to go! Where there is lawn, I see space for food. And flowers. Yes, more food and more flowers. I have plans. Big plans.

Comfort me with vegetables. And cheese.

2007-07-31T07:57:00.000-04:00

Every slice and dice is a meditation on the miracle in a seed. Four years into my journey as a vegetable grower, I haven't yet lost my sense of wonder at all things I accompany from soil to supper. Every colorful piece of this edible mosaic was grown by my own hand, brought to life with the generous sun and the miraculous rain. Potatoes, zucchini, crookneck squash, carrots, onions, garlic, and thyme.

Some things are best enjoyed in their purest form, and so it was with this simple summer vegetable bake. The vegetables were enveloped in olive oil and herbs, roasted until soft and fragrant.

For a special touch -- and for the more practical purpose of adding protein -- I made Parmesan crisps to round out my meal. A baked casserole dish screams for cheese.

These were simple nests of freshly grated Parmesano-Reggiano with a few sprinklings of thyme perched on top.

In two minutes, they surrendered into flat discs. More chewy than crisp, but irresistible nonetheless, they were a mouthwatering match for my vegetable dish.

Summer Vegetable Bake with Thyme-Parmesan Crisps

Onions Harvested

2007-07-29T08:44:00.000-04:00

Most of the onions I'm growing are pass-along plants, so I'm not sure what's what here. I suspect the white ones might be scallions I left in the ground since last fall. Regardless of what kind they are, they all make me cry equally as hard when I chop them. I've tried all the tricks in the book to keep myself from crying a rainstorm when I cut onions: drink water, eat bread, use a refrigerated onion, etc. I've even thought about getting a pair of onion goggles. Nothing seems to work. I still cry until those chopped onions hit the pan.

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Tomato Turnaround

2007-07-28T11:57:00.000-04:00

With all the bird attacks on our tomato crop this year, I was starting to resign myself to the idea that we would not be able to make our own tomato sauce this summer. Not with our own-grown tomatoes, that is. But on my visit to the plot on Wednesday, I was delighted to find several of our San Marzano tomatoes untouched. Could it be that the birds finally got their fill? Or found easier-to-reach specimens elsewhere? Whatever the case may be, I now find myself with handfuls of red-ripe beauties, sans beak-holes. Fresh tomato sauce will be made this weekend.

Seven Random Things About Me

2007-07-26T07:01:00.000-04:00

I'd like to think I'm fashionably late to the party, but I think I'm just... late. It's already been more than a month since Colleen at In the Garden Online tagged me for the Seven Random Things About Me meme. (That's eons ago in blogging time.) And then Beth at Morning Glories tagged me too.

The object of this meme is to tell seven random facts about oneself and relate them to one's blog. So here we go, seven random things.

#1. I grew a grapefruit tree from seed. Years ago, I was eating a piece of grapefruit in a cafeteria when I noticed a tiny root emerging from one of the seeds. I took that seed home with me and put it in a pot of soil. When I moved away from home, I left my little grapefruit tree in my dad's care. Many years later, dad still has that grapefruit tree, which now stands about twice as tall as me. It has never produced any fruit, but I think we both remain hopeful. I wish I could grow a citrus tree in my garden. I would choose a lemon tree over grapefruit, though, since I use a lot of lemons.

#2. I'd never seen a black squirrel before I moved to the District of Columbia . I often see black squirrels when I'm walking to and from my plot. Gray ones, too. Sometimes I'm afraid one of those squirrels is going to jump out of a tree and land on my head. Such an occurrence is highly unlikely, I realize, but it's because of this fear that I've never taken a photo of a black squirrel to post on my blog.

#3. I eat a lot of popcorn. (And I mean, a lot!) I cook popcorn on the stove top. I don't like microwave popcorn because it tastes (and smells) like chemicals. Two years ago I wanted to grow popcorn in my garden, but one of my (more experienced) gardening friends said, "Don't waste your time with corn. It'll suck all the nitrogen out of your soil, cast shade all over your plot (and the neighbor's), and in the end, you'll only get two ears of corn. And then a squirrel will come along and eat them!" Darn squirrels.

Does anyone want this packet of popcorn seeds I never planted?

#4. I used to hate cooking. Baking was always fun; I was especially fond of my family's Christmas-cookie-baking extravaganza. But whenever my mom tried to teach me the basics of cooking, I wanted nothing to do with it. Growing food in the garden has helped me learn to enjoy cooking. (There are other reasons, too, but the garden is one of them.) It is the greatest compliment when people write to me and say my blog makes them hungry. I love making people hungry with my blog!

#5. I've never had any formal training in photography. I still don't know what an f-stop is and I don't care. I'm learning photography the same way I'm learning about gardening and blogging (and cooking): lots of practice, trial and error.

#6. I played violin for two years and then quit because my teacher told me my pinkie is too short. She said the tip of one's left pinkie should be at least equal in length to the crease behind the second knuckle on the ring finger. My little finger doesn't measure up. It's too short to wrap comfortably around the neck of a violin. Fortunately, this doesn't hinder my ability to do gardening or blogging. In fact, all of the "a's" on this post were typed with said short pinkie.

(How many of you just looked at your pinkie?)

#7. My favorite herb is... whatever is growing well at the moment. Right now, I am very fond of tarragon. But if you pressed me to pick one herb I could not live without, I would choose garlic.

Now it's my turn to pass this meme to other bloggers. I'm tagging:

1. A Caribbean Garden
2. Windywillow
3. Purple Podded Peas
4. A Thinking Stomach
5. Columbus Foodie

Potatoes & Tomatoes

2007-07-23T07:02:00.000-04:00

We had gorgeous weather here on Saturday afternoon: not too hot nor too humid. I noticed the sky was cast in a deeper shade of blue for a change, not the pale haze of suffocating humidity that typically hangs over our city in July. For the first time in weeks, I felt comfortable enough to stay out and putter in the garden for a while, rather than just rushing about to do the necessary survival-mode watering and weeding. It was very pleasant.

My potato plants were tucked away somewhere behind the ever-enlarging crookneck squash plants in the back part of the plot. I decided it was time to head back there and see how things were faring. The soil was so dry; I hardly needed to dig much before I came up with a small crop of red potatoes. I think the whole harvest is less than the number of potatoes I planted in the first place! Oh, well. After that topsy-turvy planting episode in the spring, I am happy to at least have something.

What I'm really happy about, though, are those two tomatoes you see in the photo. I managed to rescue a pair of Brandywines before the birds dashed holes in them. It is a catbird that's been going after my San Marzanos; I saw him in action! (And then I felt very conflicted because I adore catbirds.)

Well, there are two unscathed tomatoes left for me and I am going to enjoy them ceremoniously. I will probably cut them into thick slices, add salt, and slurp them down over the kitchen sink with the juices running down my arm. Not quite elegant, I know, but I've been waiting patiently to eat these first ones and I want to taste them straight up. Salt on tomato. Nothing else. So there, Mr. Catbird.

Green Thumb Sunday

2007-07-22T10:15:00.000-04:00

Butterflies, calling all butterflies! Mexican sunflowers are now fully open in Plot #2. Please land here soon.

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Gardeners, plant and nature lovers share their photos on Green Thumb Sunday. See who else is participating.

What's cooking with zucchini?

2007-07-20T07:17:00.000-04:00

Carrots, zucchini and fresh tarragon from the garden

Zucchinis have been coming at me at a slow and steady (and so far manageable) clip. Earlier this summer I made a salad of shredded carrots with fresh tarragon, and my husband and I loved the flavor combination. I decided to build upon that pairing again, but this time with the addition of shredded zucchini.

I'm discovering that I really like to shred zucchini. I think it's because it gives way so much easier than carrots do, and it doesn't stick to the box grater the way cheese does. It's clean, quick and pleasant to prepare. (Bear in mind, this is written by someone who hasn't yet been inundated with bucket loads of zucchini.)

This salad was one of my "this and that" creations. I tossed in a little of this and a little of that, until it tasted good to me. I used vinegar and olive oil, plus a little honey to bring out the sweetness of the carrots. My secret ingredient was a hint of cinnamon -- just enough to give it a little something special. Toasted sliced almonds added an extra layer of crunch.

The verdict on this one? Hubby thought it was too sweet; I liked it a lot. Apparently I've got a sweet tooth even when it comes to eating my vegetables! I would definitely make this again, but probably with a little less honey next time.

Next up: zucchini linguine. Using the V-slicer I haven't made peace with yet, Michael cut our most recent zucchini into long green shoestrings. He added the squash strips into the pasta about two or three minutes before it finished cooking. I wouldn't have liked the zucchini this way if it had turned out too mushy, but he cooked it just right. The zucchini still had a good bite to it and it paired neatly in texture with the linguine cooked al dente. In the end, it was all mixed together with olive oil he had infused with our own-grown garlic and herbs. We added fresh Parmesan cheese at the end and... oh my, this is a going to be one of my favorite summer pasta dishes. More zucchini? Bring it on!

The worst tomatoes

2007-07-17T21:24:00.000-04:00

Well I've learned a lesson: Never brag about how good your tomato plants look, until they actually produce good tomatoes. I have one San Marzano plant that still looks reasonably healthy, but the other three, for the most part, are churning out sickly tomatoes with blackened, rotten bottoms. It's blossom-end rot. Big time.

And if that's not bad enough, the birds are delivering the number two of a one-two punch. Bird-beak holes! Everywhere! In every last, nearly ripe tomato. ARRGH!

This was my pathetic tomato harvest today. These went straight to the compost heap.

I looked around at other people's plots and saw that it's not just my tomatoes. It appears that the birds are attacking everyone's tomatoes, regardless of what type they are. I have never seen this happen before. Not to this extent anyway. It's total tomato carnage. I wonder what's going on? I've watched these tomatoes come all the way from seeds, and now this?! It is incredibly frustrating and disappointing.

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day

2007-07-15T07:18:00.000-04:00

I wanted to do my Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day post a little differently this month, so instead of standing under the hot July sun to take photos of each individual flower that's currently in bloom, I decided to cut myself a bouquet to bring indoors. Having a cutting garden is, after all, one of the things I enjoy most about this hobby. I love being able to brighten my indoor surroundings with a beautiful array of flowers, and it's so satisfying when they're ones I grew myself. This is when all the hard work in the spring really pays off. I can now sit back with a cold drink in my hand and say, "Ahh, look what I grew!"

In my mid-summer bouquet, I have zinnias, black-eyed susans, bachelor's buttons, coreopsis, two kinds of calendula, bells of Ireland, yarrow and dahlias. Of course, it wouldn't be me if I didn't include vegetable flowers in my Bloom Day post. The white flowers in my bouquet are from a vegetable plant. Can you guess which one?

A few of my herbs are blooming too. In the little blue vase are the flowers of oregano, oregano thyme, and coriander. In the vegetable patch, flowers abound on my yellow and butternut squash plants, the zucchini, bush beans, tomatoes and bell peppers.

I should note that my inspiration for the styling of the first photo in this post came from Canadian painter Shannon Reynolds (via Garden Rant). I remembered her beautiful painting called Tree Peonies with Pruners. If art imitates life, then my photo is an example of that same principle in reverse: life imitating art.

Curious about what's blooming in other peoples' gardens today? Visit May Dreams Gardens to find out who else is posting for Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day.

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Related Posts:
GBBD: June, May, April, March

Fresh cilantro and peppers in a corn salsa

2007-07-11T20:11:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I went out to my plot early in the morning to water the tomato plants, all of which are suffering with various degrees of yellowing, browning, spotty and wilted leaves. The plants have quite a few tomatoes on them; a few will be ready to pick soon, but many have succumbed to blossom-end rot. It's not looking too promising overall on the tomato front, I'm afraid.

But let's focus on the positive, shall we? I picked another pepper, an onion, a cucumber, beans, and fresh cilantro. My lone cilantro plant went from sprout to flower in virtually one week, it seems. Cilantro is notoriously difficult to grow around here because our summers get so hot so quickly. I really must try one of the slow-bolt varieties. For now, though, I am happy with what I've got. It is so fragrant; I wish you could smell it through your computer screen.

I used the cilantro as the herb of choice for a corn salsa. I started with fresh corn cut straight from the cob and sauteed for a few minutes in olive oil. I used Chef Emeril Lagasse's $80,000 trick for cutting the corn: set a towel on the cutting board so the kernels won't bounce all over the counter top and onto the floor. (I refer to it as the $80,000 trick because that's what Lagasse said he paid to learn this in culinary school. Better him than me!)

After the corn cooled, I added chopped peppers -- my own fresh peppers! I had a green bell, the purple bell (which to my surprise was green inside), and two banana peppers.

One clove of garlic, a little lime juice, salt and pepper, and a few dashes cayenne pepper finished it off for a delightful salad. Summer in a bowl.

First bell pepper

2007-07-10T08:46:00.000-04:00

Over the weekend I pulled a handful of spring-sown carrots, two zucchinis, the first few purple beans, and the vegetable I'm most excited about: my first bell pepper! It's a Purple Beauty Bell that I started from seed back in January.

It's small -- only two inches tall -- but I think it's the most wonderful pepper, because I grew it! I'm planning on giving it a starring role in a corn salsa, using fresh sweet corn from Sunday's farmers' market and fresh cilantro from the herb garden. Mmmm, my mouth is watering already.

Bloggers for Positive Global Change

2007-07-09T06:16:00.000-04:00

I've been nominated for a 'Bloggers for Positive Global Change' award by Emma at Fluffius Muppetus. This meme was created originally by Climate of Our Future, to salute bloggers who are taking steps to make the world a better place.

Now it's my turn to nominate five blogs that I think are making a difference. I've chosen these because they're tackling environmental and food issues in a positive and thought-provoking way.

1. Crunchy Chicken -- A mother of two writes about reducing her impact on the environment. She is sponsoring Local Food Month in July.

2. The Slow Cook -- One of my neighbors here in the District of Columbia, The Slow Cook is growing his own edible landscape, helping to build schoolyard gardens in the city, and teaching kids to appreciate freshly-grown food.

3. Foodshed -- Pattie in Atlanta is writing about local, organic, sustainable food supplies.

4. Green as a Thistle -- A woman is making one small change each day to live more sustainably.

5. No Impact Man -- A man in New York City has challenged himself and his family to live a no impact lifestyle. (No impact on the environment, that his. He is making a huge impact with his blog.)

The people I have nominated can now participate by following these simple steps:

Write a post with links to up to 5 blogs that you think are trying to change the world in a positive way.
In your post, make sure you link back to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme.
Leave a comment or message for the bloggers you've tagged, so they know they're now part of the meme.
Optional: Proudly display the "Bloggers for Positive Global Change" award badge with a link to the post you wrote up.

Green Thumb Sunday

2007-07-08T08:14:00.000-04:00

If plants could talk, my African violet on the windowsill would be screaming, "Hey, I'm blogworthy too, you know!" It's showing off with a profusion of blooms that are equally as pretty as anything in my outdoor garden right now.

My secret to getting African violets to bloom? Give them indirect light and keep them pot bound. This is one plant that likes having its feet tucked in tightly.

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Garlic harvest

2007-07-06T19:07:00.000-04:00

I've been recuperating from a minor injury these past few days (more than the sliced finger I mentioned in the previous post), so Michael had the honor of harvesting this year's crop of garlic. We grew enough to fill a large cooking pot -- 36 heads in all.

I enjoyed the process of brushing away the soil and revealing the papery, buttery-colored skins underneath. We laid all the bulbs on a cookie sheet where they'll remain to dry. With each passing day, they're showing more reddish color. It's as if they're blushing, now that they're exposed to open daylight after eight months of comfortable cover under the soil.

A fragrance of garlicky freshness is permeating every pore and crevice of our apartment. It's a strong scent, but it doesn't bother us. We know these little orbs pack the powerfully pungent nuclei that will ignite months of mouthwatering meals to come. The scent just makes me hungry!

Aren't they beautiful?

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Related Posts:
Garlic Awaits Its Day in the Soil
Garlic is Planted
New Garlic Emerges
Garlic Scape Pesto

The kohlrabi trials

2007-07-03T19:51:00.000-04:00

Visiting the local farmers' market, I'm discovering, is a great way to find new veggies to try out before devoting the time and space to growing them in the garden. Sure, I could make a trip to Whole Foods and sample some interesting vegetables from there, but the farmers' market is exceedingly more interesting to me, and I like supporting the local farmers directly. (To Whole Foods' credit, though, they are making an effort to buy from small farms, which is a good thing.)

At a recent market, curiosity nudged me to pick a pair of kohlrabies from one of the stands. Kohlrabi is one of those interesting looking vegetables that tends to leap off the page when I'm thumbing through gardening catalogs. It looks interesting, but does it taste any good?

Its name is derived from two German words: kohl for cabbage and rabi for turnip. From the looks of it, I thought it would taste like cabbage or broccoli. The sign next to it said it could be eaten raw or cooked, and I overheard someone saying it has the consistency of an apple. Sounded approachable to me.

At home, I peeled each kohlrabi and popped a small sliver in my mouth. It tasted very bland, almost like nothing. How could such an interesting looking vegetable taste so boring? I was determined to press on, though, and make something out of my kohlrabies.

I shredded them into small slivers to start a coleslaw. We had a large bag of Granny Smith apples in the kitchen, so I shredded one of those, too. A few snips of flat-leaf parsley added color. Then I mixed in lemon juice, olive oil, salt and pepper. Still very bland.

I decided then to add a good spoonful of whole-grain dijon mustard. Now I was getting somewhere, but it still wasn't quite right. The slaw needed a bit of sweetness, I thought, to bring out the apples, so I added a few drizzles of honey. Yes! Good! Almost there. And then, for a hint of sharpness, I added a few hits of white wine vinegar. Perfect!

I ended up with a light, cool, delicious slaw -- a little bit sweet, a little bit savory. I thought it was great, but the true test, I knew, would come from Michael. He devoured it. In fact, he liked it so much that at the end of the meal he said, "we can definitely buy kohlrabi again." Success!

The kohlrabi reminded me of jicama. It seemed to have the chameleon-like property of taking on the flavor of whatever it's combined with -- whether savory or sweet. I was so emboldened by the success of my slaw that I returned to the market the following week and bought a purple kohlrabi. That one tasted considerably more "cabbage-y," though, and so that left a hole in my theory that any kohlrabi could be paired with sweet ingredients. More testing is needed.

With the purple kohlrabi I set out again to make a slaw, but in the process, I had a minor accident with the V-Slicer. I have the occasion here to mention Band-Aids again, but I will spare you the details. Let's just say, I didn't finish making that salad, and I am lucky to still have a thumb with which to hit the space bar on the keyboard. Ouch!!

That's the end of the kohlrabi trials, at least for now.

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Thank you to Alanna at A Veggie Venture, for providing the farmers' market logo. It's available to anyone who's blogging about their farmers' market finds.

Zucchini fritters are a hit!

2007-07-01T11:07:00.000-04:00

And so begins the challenge of learning how to cook gobs of zucchini. I picked #2 and #3 from the garden on Thursday, along with a good handful of French tarragon, parsley, and cilantro.

I turned to this recipe for basic instructions on how to make zucchini fritters. Since I didn't have all the exact ingredients on hand, I changed course by adding more tarragon (and the cilantro) to make up for a limited supply of parsley. I also used plain bread crumbs in place of the Parmesan cheese. The mixture of shredded zucchini with flour, baking powder, nutmeg, and egg made a very wet, gooey batter, but it formed nicely into patties once it hit the sizzling pan.

I loved these! They were light and had a wonderful fragrance from the tarragon. In fact, I think it was the combination of tarragon and nutmeg that put these over the top for me. Plus, they were fried and... who doesn't like their vegetables fried?

The only downside was that they were a little soft in the center; more than I would have liked. Next time I would probably make them thinner (and add the Parmesan cheese, as the recipe called for), but otherwise, I am now a fan of zucchini fritters. I ate them with feta cheese on the side. Fantastic.

Zucchini fritters served with zucchini slices and feta cheese

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Related Post: First Zucchini!

Fast grows the watermelon

2007-06-29T08:16:00.000-04:00

Of the two little watermelons I showed in a previous photo, the first one fell off the vine, I'm sad to say. I guess it was an unfertilized ovary, if I recall correctly what I learned about squash blossom fertilization last year. The good new is, the second watermelon is growing like crazy! It's gone from thumb size to bigger than my hand in just one week. At this rate, I'll have watermelon slices in no time. Sweet!

Blogging elsewhere today...

2007-06-28T07:06:00.000-04:00

I'm guest blogging over at DC Urban Gardener News today. Head over there to read my post (which includes photographic proof that I really do get dirty fingernails).

Thanks to Susan, a.k.a. fellow DC Urban Gardener, Takoma Gardener and Garden Ranter, and Ed, The Slow Cook and DCUG president, for inviting me to share my story.

Welcome new readers who are coming here from over there. Stick around and watch me figure out how to cook the loads of squash my garden is producing. And beans. I think I'm in for a lot of beans...

Sage plant wilting

2007-06-26T07:15:00.000-04:00

I've been celebrating merrily my triumph with the zucchini and baby watermelons, but now this: my sage plant appears to be croaking. Good grief. Can't everything just stay happy and flourish all at once? (No. I realize the answer to that is, unfortunately, no. The garden constantly throws me curve balls. And that's what keeps it interesting, although sometimes -- like now -- it's darn frustrating!)

In the spring, this plant exploded with soft, fragrant new leaves. I'm now regretting that I didn't cut any of them to dry. I wanted to set some aside for our Thanksgiving dinner. But since the plant grew so effortlessly and rapidly, I didn't feel any urgency to harvest the leaves. I thought they would be here. All. Summer. Long.

My sage plant on April 25, 2007 -- Alive!

So what's going on with it? The leaves are wilting and curling and turning crispy brown. I think the plant had plenty of water. Could it be too much water causing this? Is it going the way of our rosemary?

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Related Posts:
Harvesting Sage
Chicken with Olives and Herbs
Brine a Turkey with Sage