Harvest & Market, 5/16-5/28

This year I have been meaning to keep better track of my harvests so I have a better sense of what my garden produces. A couple of weeks ago, I did start weighing and measuring and recording those counts in my garden journal, but I have yet to post. Since that's what this blog is for, here's the rough count for the last two weeks:

10 oz 'Sparkler' radishes (with greens)
roughly 2 cups lettuce, chopped (a mix of 'Jericho' and 'Flashy Trouts Back')
2 small bunches of arugula
bunch of chive flowers
small bunch of yellow multiplier onion flower buds
8 oz 'Shandong' garlic greens and young bulbs

The radish greens were combined with the first batch of arugula for an arugula/radish pesto, while the radishes themselves ended up with the lettuce and chive flowers in a salad topped with sliced chicken. The second bunch of arugula was combined with another bunch I received from our CSA for more arugula pesto (a brilliant recipe from Serving Up the Harvest and my favorite way to enjoy it). The garlic greens ended up in a stir-fry, and I have been using the young bulbs in a variety of dishes.

This is Year 3 with the Fair Share Farm CSA, and we picked up our second week's worth of produce on Wednesday. We get too much to list here, but we've gotten plenty of radishes, lettuce, and greens. Along with the tasty hakurei turnips they offer each season, which are far sweeter than other turnips and are great eaten raw. I like to use them in stir-fries and salads as well.

Another habit I'd like to get back into is tracking our "take home" from the City Market, which we try to visit as often ass possible. Today we took home:

2 quarts blueberries
bunch of rhubarb
2 pints strawberries & a bunch of 'Chioggia' beets from Goode Acres (one of my favorite growers at the market)
bunch of large spring onions
appr. 1lb broccoli
honey from Busy Bee Acres in Odessa, MO

I'm planning on making some preserves from the blueberries, as well as making some rhubarb/strawberry preserves. The 'Chioggia' beets look like little bull's eyes and are far too pretty for pickling, so I am thinking about making some roasted beet chips (for which I will need a mandoline).

Right now, the garden is looking great, in spite of the wet/cool conditions of late. I am planning on harvests of spinach, chard, raab, and kale in the next week or two. And possibly an early harvest of some garlic to make way for the tomatoes. 'Shandong' is considered an early hardneck variety, so it's ready for harvest by June. I haven't seen any scapes yet, so I don't know. The radishes look great but aren't really producing bulbs. Some quick reading informed me that excess water may be the culprit. Guess we'll wait and see how things go!

In Defense of the Lowly Dandelion

Spring is in full swing here in Kansas City and the flowers are in full bloom. Though the crocuses have now faded, the mid-season tulips are out, along with the daffodils and muscari. The spring "weeds" are in full force, too--the purple and blue ground ivies, the violets, and the dandelions. I say "weed" because I don't think in the terms of many gardeners; I try to assess each interloper by its function or aesthetic value. For instance, ur yard is full of violets because I love the leaves and the flowers, and they fill in the spaces the grass refuses to inhabit. I usually only remove them to make way for other plants. The weeds I dig up are the ones I have no use for.

Everyone knows that the lowly dandelion is the worst "weed" of all, so of course it is the one most vigilantly combated. An overgrown dandelion can really ruin the look of a flowerbed, and once it's gone to seed you're guaranteed another batch to dig up in the summer. Thus the cycle never ends.

As for myself, I've learned to love the lowly dandelion and don't struggle much to keep them at bay. Growing up, I was always charmed and fascinated by fields of the cheery yellow flowers and the shimmer little seed globes that fell apart in the wind. When I read Bradbury's Dandelion Wine in my teens I was mesmerized by his description of a family gathering the flower heads to make wine:

The boys bent, smiling. They picked the golden flowers. The flowers that flooded the world, dripped off lawns onto brick streets, tapped softly at crystal cellar windows and agitated themselves so that on all sides lay the dazzle and glitter of molten sun.

"Every year," said Grandfather. "They run amuck; I let them. Pride of lions in the yard. Star, and they burn a hole in your retina. A Common flower, a weed no one sees, yes. But for us, a noble thing, the dandelion."

I never knew anyone who made their own dandelion wine (or any wine, for that matter), but I always imagined eventually tracking down a bottle or making my own.

The dandelion, despite its common weediness, is an immensely useful plant with a history of human cultivation going back some centuries. Every part of it is edible and considered to have medicinal properties. The bitter leaves, mildest before the plant has flowered, are similar to arugula and can be eaten raw in salads or sauteed with some oil and spices. The raw flavor is too strong for my tastes, but I love using it as a replacement for arugula in a pesto recipe from Serving Up the Harvest. The mature root of a dandelion can be dried or roasted, then ground into a coffee substitute or additive similar to chicory, which is popular in New Orleans and France. Last year I ground a bit with my usual coffee and found it added a very subtle but nice smoky flavor. And of course, there are the blossoms, which are most often used to make dandelion wine, something that I am finally attempting this year. Lacking proper winemaking equipment, I sought out a basic home recipe and found this one from Texas Cooking. I can't tell you yet whether it worked, but I should know in a few months.

Another thing you can make from dandelion blossoms is jelly (or preserves), which sounds a bit odd but turns out to be quite good. I made up my own recipe using Pomona's Universal Pectin based on this recipe for violet jelly. The process is basically the same (and quite similar to making dandelion wine): you make an infusion by pouring boiling water over the blossoms, then let it steep overnight to deepen the flavor. Once the infusion is made, it is similar to any other jelly. Here is the specific recipe I came up with:

Dandelion Jelly
1 C dandelion blossoms
1 C boiling water
2 TB lemon juice
1/2 tsp calcium water
1/2 C sugar
1/2 tsp Pomona Universal Pectin

1. Wash dandelion blossoms thoroughly and remove any stems. Pour boiling water over blossoms and let steep up to 24 hours, covered.
2. Pour infusion into non-reactive pan and then add the lemon juice and calcium water. Mix together sugar and pectin.
3. Bring infusion to boiling and pour in pectin mixture. Bring back to boiling and cook for 1 minute. Pour into one pint sterilized jar or two half-pint jars; process for 10 minutes.

The flavor of this jelly is interesting, sort of light and floral and "dandelionesque," with none of the associated bitterness. As noted in the base recipe, this can be adapted to any other kind of floral/herbal jelly (if using flowers, obviously make sure they're edible and not sprayed with pesticides).



Besides the practical uses of dandelion as a food, there is evidence to suggest that the oft-loathed taproots may actually be beneficial, drawing up nutrients that might otherwise be locked in deeper soil layers. Taproots can also be a helpful way of breaking up dense, clay-ridden soils.

I'm not suggesting that every gardener stop pulling up these lovely and useful weeds altogether. We all have a certain aesthetic standard we'd like to maintain in our gardens, and too many weeds can disrupt our enjoyment. Nonetheless, it is surprising how little people consider the practical value of the plants growing around them (many of which, like the dandelion, have escaped cultivation) and spend all their time fighting the poor things in a quest for the perfectly neat lawn. Permaculture asks us to rethink the ways we live within our environment, whether there are not more harmonious ways to deal with it. So I'll keep letting a few dandelions grow and enjoy what they have to give.

P.S. For an overview of uses and lore associated with the dandelion, A Modern Herbal is worth checking out. Also information on various wildflowers and herbs with medicinal/culinary value. One of my favorite online plant resources.

Experiments in Food Preservation: Wild Grape Jelly

If you regularly keep up with this blog, then you might recall my post some months back about our trip to the Smoky Mountains. On the way back through Missouri, we stopped in the Eleven Point District of Mark Twain National Forest, spending a night at McCormack Lake and a few hours hiking the Irish Wilderness. Hiking around the lake, we came across numerous persimmon trees, whose fruit was not quite ripe, and discovered a bevy of wild grape vines. We discovered more wild grapes while in the Irish Wilderness, where we decided to grab some plastic bags and forage enough to bring home, leaving plenty for the birds and animals to eat.

There are several species of wild grape native to Missouri, though vitis riparia and vulpina are the ones most familiar to wild foragers in the region. There is another species, most commonly seen on river banks, called vitis rupestris, recognizable for its red stems. They're all quite common in the right location and, as far as I know, edible to humans (though usually quite sour and not as juicy as the commonly cultivated Mars or Concord). For the last couple of years, I have been gathering a few of the wild grapes growing as "weeds" in my yard and am slowly attempting to cultivate the vines for food.

Now, personally, I've never been a big fan of grape jelly. Compared to strawberry jam or orange marmalade, I've always found the stuff just sugary and bland, and I've never been fond of peanut butter & jelly sandwiches either. I love fresh grapes, though, and usually buy a few bunches of the Mars variety when I see them at market. This year I decided to experiment with low sugar grape jelly, just to see if I could.



The process of making grape jelly is pretty much the same as with any cultivated grape, like a Mars or Concord (both of which are native cultivars derived from vitis labrusca). Following the Pomona recipe, I started with a pound and a half of grapes, which I then mashed and simmered for ten minutes, cooled and poured into a cheesecloth bag to drip for about one day. Since I was using the wild grapes, I added a bit more sugar than I would have done with a sweeter cultivated grape. Final tasting proved that the finished jelly was just as sweet as my previous batch of Mars grape jelly.

Wild Grape Jelly

1 1/2 lb wild grapes (vitis riparia or vulpina)
2 tb lemon or lime juice
1/2 cup - 1 cup sugar or 1/4 cup - 1/2 cup honey
2 tsp calcium water (included in box of Pomona pectin)
2 tsp Pomona Universal Pectin

1. Remove stems and mash grapes and mix with 1/4 cup of water in saucepan. Bring to boil and simmer for 10 minutes. Pour cooked fruit into jelly bag. Let drip until juice stops.

2. Pour juice into saucepan, leaving sediment undisturbed. Mix with lemon juice and calcium water. In a separate bowl mix together sugar or honey and pectin.

3. Heat juice mixture to boiling and add pectin/sugar mixture. Stir vigorously 1-2 minute to dissolve pectin, then bring mixture back to a boil and remove from heat.

4. Fill jars to 1/4" from top and seal. Store in fridge up to 1 month or process for 10 minutes in boiling-water bath.

With Christmas coming up, I'll be giving at least a couple of jars of this jelly to family and friends as gifts. Usually I print out nice labels for the jars, listing the date canned and ingredients, then top off the jars with a pretty holiday-themed circle of fabric, a ribbon, and gift tag. Just about everyone appreciates a homemade gift, especially one with a story attached. Imagine the joy or pride in telling someone their preserves came from the Ozarks or straight from your garden.

Experiments in Food Preservation, Part 2: Raspberry-Jalapeno Jam

This autumn the weather has been fairly mild, meaning that a number of harvests have held out longer than usual for Kansas City. I only just pulled up my jalapeno bushes last week, and they showed no obvious signs of being finished for the season. While chili peppers are typically at their peak in August, I got my most spectacular harvests in September and October and was stuck with about 2 pounds worth of the little buggers. Normally I like to make a few batches of salsa, but this year's harvest of tomatoes wasn't that great and October isn't exactly the tomato peak at market. Another great preservation technique for chili peppers is pickling, which I find just as flavorful and useful for salsas and other Mexican dishes (even Asian, if you're so inclined). But there's only so many jars of pickled peppers you can eat in a year and only so many you can give as gifts. Eventually it's time to try new things.

This year I decided to experiment with jalapeno jelly. Last year I followed a recipe from Preserving the Harvest, which I found far too sweet when paired with the usual cream cheese. I was hoping for something more like the perfectly balanced mango-jalapeno jam I bought a couple of years ago at the City Market. Walking through the garden one day and plucking some ripe raspberries from the vine, I glanced back at the jalapeno bushes and thought of that blend of sweet and spicy and wondered if maybe this combination was worth a try. And thus, I came up with the following recipe:

Raspberry-Jalapeno Jam

1/3 cup chopped jalapenos
1/3 cup white vinegar or apple cider vinegar
1/3 cup mashed raspberries
1 teaspoon calcium water (included in box of Pomona pectin)
1/4 cup sugar or honey
1/2 teaspoon Pomona Universal Pectin

1. Mix jalapenos and vinegar in saucepan. Bring to a boil; cover and simmer for 5 minutes.

2. Stir in mashed raspberries and calcium water. In a separate bowl, stir together sugar/honey and pectin.

3. Heat vinegar mixture to boiling and add pectin/sugar mixture. Stir vigorously 1-2 minute to dissolve pectin, then bring mixture back to a boil and remove from heat.

4. Fill jars to 1/4" from top and seal. Store in fridge up to 1 month or process for 10 minutes in boiling-water bath.

My original sketch of the recipe included a homemade raspberry red wine vinegar (far better than the abortive attempt at raspberry-vanilla vodka), but I found the results a tad heavy on the raspberry. In the future I'd use a more neutral white or cider vinegar, and I've made the change to the recipe. I'm also curious whether using the jalapeno-infused vinegar is really necessary, or whether simply cooking the jam is enough to draw out the spiciness. Thoughts?

Overall, I'm pretty happy with the results of this experiment and will likely continue tweaking this recipe next year. It's quite tasty spread on wheat crackers with some cream cheese and would probably be equally good mixed with a goat cheese spread.

Pickling Hot Peppers

This is my second year participating in a CSA and I'm still enjoying the weekly batch of produce I pick up each week at Badseed Market direct from the farm. Last year I didn't really take advantage of the bulk list, which would have provided more opportunity for preserving food over the winter, but this year I've ordered a few bags and already have much fuller cabinet. Our last order included basil for pesto, pepperoncini peppers, a pound of tomatilloes for salsa verde, and a bunch of jalapenos. If you've been keeping up with my garden blog for a while, then you'll remember last year how I extolled the virtues of pesto; there's already a fat bag sitting in the freezer, waiting for the frost to hit. That particular entry also extols the virtues of salsa, canned and fresh.

Of course, one can throw only so many jalapenos into salsa before it becomes barely edible, and after you're used up all the tomatoes or tomatilloes, it's time to find something else to do with the little buggers. Probably my favorite way to preserve peppers is to pickle them. Pickled jalapenos are a good replacement in any recipe that calls for fresh, and they're an awesome topping on nachos and fall chili. The recipe I use from Andrea Chesman's Serving Up the Harvest is very basic; you don't need much to augment the flavor of chiles, just a bit of salt, sugar, some garlic, and some mustard seeds (I didn't have any mustard seeds in my cupboard, so I left them out). Process 10 minutes and viola!

While planning what to do with my jalapenos, I remembered a recipe I found online 2-3 years ago for a pickled condiment, not unlike a Mexican giardiniera, featuring hot peppers, garlic, onions, and carrots. It's called escabeche, and you can find the recipe online at Simply Recipes. The recipe requires a bit more labor compared with a basic hot pepper pickle, but as I recall, the flavor is richer and more nuanced. I'm sure this comes from the additional vegetables, spices, and frying everything in olive oil first.

Here's a photo of the two recipes after processing:



Looks tasty, eh? All but a couple of those peppers came from the CSA, since my jalapenos have not been supremely productive this year. The carrots, however, came from my garden.

After I spent the day pickling hot peppers, I took the time to reorganize my cabinet, so the oldest items were in the front. It was already quite packed with the whole cucumbers I pickled in July and the strawberry jam I made back in May. I can't wait to see what everything tastes like in another few months when the flavors have had time to blend.



My preserves stay inside an old Hoosier cabinet my mother bought as a birthday present last year:



I'm very fond of the cabinet, since it provides me with an extra work surface and nice dark places to store preserves and potatoes.

Last weekend I picked a bunch of cucumbers from my mother's garden and am planning on making some relish before the weekend is through. Do you have any plans to pickle before the season begins to wane? Or will you be making that last batch of salsa or pesto instead? Do tell!

Spring in the Vegetable Garden

A shot of the garden as it looked earlier today.

It's been nearly a month since I last posted, but things have been busy in the vegetable garden. Since my last post almost everything (save a few herbs) has been planted for spring; the peas are flourishing, and the beans are growing tall; the cabbage plants are starting to develop small heads. There have been quite a few harvests, so I thought I would share some of what I've been eating in roughly the order of each harvest.

Raab, 'Sorrento'

I covered this in my last entry on the first harvest in late April. You can read my thoughts in that entry. The plants have continued to send up stalks since that harvest, but the leaves and heads are much smaller. I attempted to use the whole stalks in a pasta dish one night and, despite blanching and sauteeing them, found them far too tough. Last night I just used the leaves and heads and found them quite tender.

Overall, I'm liking raab (or rabe or rapini, etc.), but I have previously expressed my love of greens. It's definitely more useful in its initial leafy state, although the fact that it continues to produce something edible after that initial harvest is a plus. Another plus I've discovered is that most pests, especially cabbage butterflies, tend to avoid it.


The bok choy and kale together...

Kale, "Improved Dwarf Siberian"

I already knew I liked kale, which is why I decided to plant it this year. The primary advantage of this variety was the (fairly) flat leaves and dwarf size that would presumably tolerate close spacing. Kale must typically grow rather tall, because I estimate the full grown leaves at about a foot. I've had a few bites raw and used this kale in a few stir-fries, and honestly, in terms of flavor, I haven't noted a substantial difference in flavor from the Scotch varieties. If you're like me and dislike the thick, curly leaves of those varieties but like the flavor, this one is worth trying. Another thing I really like about kale is that it grow leaves quickly, so you can do a measured harvest every 1-2 weeks.

Dwarf Pac Choi, "Ching-Chiang"

I tried some dwarf/baby bok choy from a local grower at the City Market last year and really liked it. The water content in the stalks seems lower than the full-sized varieties, which makes it a bit more flavorful. Also, with the close-spacing I use and only two people to feed, dwarf plants tend to make better sense. The flavor on this variety is good, somewhat similar to cabbage but milder and lighter. I used a couple plants for stir-fry one night and then the remaining four for dinner the next week.

I noted that the cabbage butterflies also avoided the kale and bok choy. For whatever reason, they seem to prefer the brassicaes with the broader, leathery type leaves, i.e. cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower, collards. My theory is that it related to the scent of the leaves.



Now on to the lettuce! Since I planted only crisphead and romaine varieties, I had few thinnings to munch on while waiting for the heads to develop. I did experiment a bit and clip a few outer leaves from a couple varieties, apparently to no great detriment to the plants. After a few nibbles of the 'Reine des Glaces,' I decided to back off and let it develop full juicy heads, so I'll just cover the other two varieties I planted.

Romaine/Cos Lettuce, "Flashy Trout's Back" (Organic)

This is an heirloom variety which, absurdly, I just received in this week's CSA share. Like most romaine varieties, this one forms a sturdy head with pale, crisp leaves in the center, but you'll notice from the photo that the outer leaves are quite loose. The spread of the leaves gets to be problematic as they grow, so chances are next year I'll space them a bit further apart. Otherwise, I real like this variety. It's a bit softer than most romaines, in some ways similar to a looseleaf or butterhead variety, but it has more of the bite one expects from a romaine. I've found it pretty adaptable--good with a Mexican salad or a side salad dressed in mustard vinaigrette. The lime green, red-speckled leaves also add some much-needed visual interest.


The lovely & interesting leaves of the 'Flashy Trout's Back' lettuce.


'Winter Density' lettuce beside some young 'Bull's Blood' beets.

Romaine/Cos Lettuce, "Winter Density"

This is, in a lot of ways, just a good basic romaine lettuce, with a nice deep green color and thick, tasty leaves. What I like most about this variety, and what I'd primarily recommend it for, is that it develops small compact heads, not much bigger than 8" high. It's awesome for close spacing and small servings.

The main problem I've been having with my lettuce is snails or slugs munching on the leaves at night. This is a typical problem with lettuce and not one I've made much effort to solve. They've been mostly attacking the outer leaves. And since the rain let up last week, they appear to be less active.

I'm pretty happy with the vegetable garden thus far. One great thing about starting a cool weather garden is that by May you already feel a small sense of accomplishment. In previous years, I've had to wait until June or July for that feeling. While I'm certainly nowhere near where I'd like to be in terms of production, I've still been able to contribute to a meal or two a week for nearly a month now.

Regarding what I've been making, I've been following a lot of recipes from a great book called Serving Up the Harvest, by Andrea Chesman. I'm really still exploring the book, but I love how it's divided according to seasons, along with the selection of basic recipes that can be modified according to what's on hand. If you find yourself online quite a bit, searching for recipes to match whatever's fresh from the garden or market, like I have, it's an extremely useful book.

First Harvest: Raab

I had been hoping to finally plant the remaining cauliflower and broccoli plants last weekend, but on Saturday we had yet another spell of rain, so I was forced to wait once again. On Monday I wandering through the garden with Rob, seeing what needed to be done, and was surprised to find a yellow flower blooming on one of my raab plants. Now, I'm no expert on broccoli and its many relatives, but I'm pretty sure that's a sign your raab is ready to harvest.

Because I've never actually cooked with raab before, I decided to search for and try out a new recipe. The Hearty Peasant Soup from Whole Living sounded good, similar to minestrone, which I like. Anything with cannelini beans (or chickpeas, which are offered as another option) sounds good to me.

I cut the stalks for eating Monday night, leaving behind some little leaves in hopes of another harvest, tied them with a rubber band, and stuffed them in a plastic shopping bag overnight. Next time I think I'll harvest them the day of eating, so the greens do not turn limp. Also, freshly picked vegetables are loaded with more nutrients.

In case you're curious, this is what a stalk of raab looks like:



You might notice the little flower-head that looks like a mini-broccoli. The plant, though, is smaller and more loosely formed. They're grown primarily for greens. This variety is an open-pollinated cultivar known as "Sorrento."

Before washing the raab, I removed the big leaves like so:



After which I cut the leaves, stalks, and heads, then dropped them into the colander to be washed:



Finally, after I had sauteed the onions and garlic and thrown in some tomato paste, balsamic vinegar, and a can of diced tomatoes in the pot, I piled in the raab:



I served the soup with a an Italian bread from Farm to Market. I like to slice it up, brush on a bit of oil and salt, and toast it in the oven. Yum! The recipe recommends a whole wheat bread, which would definitely suit the sweet-tang of the tomatoes and rough texture of the beans and raab, but I think a nice rustic French farm loaf would also do.

If you're wondering how raab tastes, it's comparable to mustard, turnip, or collard greens (all close relatives). If none of those flavors rings a bell, think of a stronger, spicier spinach. Like most greens, when it's cooked down or mixed in something, the flavor turns somewhat milder. It adds a nice texture and bite to anything. A few years ago, I wouldn't have thought myself a fan of greens, but now I love them. Raab is definitely a green worth trying. I'll be planting more when Autumn nears.

Spring Has Sprung!

Officially 3 days into spring, and everything's busy preparing for the oncoming season. The temperature has sustained around 50°-60°, with very little frost at night. Today's high is predicted to be 70°. I suppose I should work on a few spring chores before it rains tomorrow.

The garden, of course, has been enjoying these conditions. The tulip leaves have been popping up, and the crocuses are in bloom in the front garden. I was surprised by a few daffodils in the south garden among the spider-lily leaves. Lately, I've been noticing daffodils everywhere in the neighborhood and recalling how much they delight me with their cheery selves. Save for the crocuses, the front flower garden is so void of color. So I think I might tuck a few daffodils in next autumn. I'm thinking also of adding some more crocuses, especially some smaller varieties, to add more interest. For now I'll just have to wait for the muscari, tulips, and allium to flower.

The vegetable garden is progressing slowly towards production. I planted peas outside last week and started some tomatoes and herbs indoors. Just yesterday I was able to plant a few of my cole crops in the ground--the bok choy, kale, and raab specifically (which you can see in the photo). If you look in the upper right corner of the photo you'll note what appears to be glass. This is one of the old windows I've been using as cover at night, just to stave off any late spring frosts. When we moved into our house in 2006, we found all sorts of odds and ends in the basement and attic. We have several windows and window screens, along with doors and what the inspector called "museum quality" knob-and-tube wiring. But my boyfriend and I are natural packrats who like old, weird things, so we look at such objects as opportunities, rather than landfill fodder.

Anyway, speaking of vegetables, may I entreat you to plant some kale?



I've eaten the stuff several times, but I've never grown it until this year. It germinates and grows very rapidly compared to nearly everything else I've planted. I have very little doubt that in less than another month I'll be rewarded with a bevy of leaves to sautee or throw into a tasty minestrone soup. This is a Russian variety, which means that the leaves are flatter and less curly than the Scottish varieties you often see in grocery stores.



Yes, it is a wonderful vegetable.

Lastly, yesterday Rob (my boyfriend) and I attended the orientation for our CSA. "CSA" stands for Community Supported Agriculture. It's like a subscription service for direct-from-the-farm produce where, for a few hundred dollars, you get a weekly supply of vegetables throughout the growing season. Our CSA, Fair Share Farms, maintains a blog to keep members up to date. I chose them because they had the most convenient drop-off point in the city and are committed to organic methods. There were a lot of people at the orientation and sign-up yesterday, which was both hectic and heartening. I'm glad that so many people like me are getting interested in supporting local agricultural economies and caring more about where their food comes from. Another interesting benefit of this CSA is that we are required to work a few hours on the farm in Kearney. We signed up for a couple weekends in August, so it will be a while before we contribute, but I'm looking forward to seeing the farm and how it operates. I'm excited!

If you're interested in joining a CSA, I recommend this website as a starting point. You can just input your zip code, and they'll throw out a few farms close by. There are over 2000 CSA's throughout the country, so chances are there's one in your vicinity.

Autumn Already?

It's still hard to believe we're already a month into fall. Since August, I've been neglecting this blog, and though I tried to hammer something out last month, it just didn't happen.

Things are slowly beginning to wind down. I've pulled the carrots, the bean towers, the peppers, and the eggplants. All the tomatoes are gone, save for the plants on the south side, which seems to retain heat. I've covered the tomato, solanaceae, and cucurbitaceae boxes with a layer of compost, dug it in with the soil a bit, and planted garlic, shallots, and multiplying onions from Territorial Seeds. I've chosen not to plant any flowering bulbs this year, though I will be switching out a couple tulip patches.

I haven't really been able to get a leg up on fall cleanup in the front yet. As you can see from the photo on the left, our sugar maple has taken on its beautiful golden fall hue, which means lots of leaves to clear up along our curb. But the weather has been dismal, lots of rain and cold, so it hasn't really been ideal.

Once we are able to rake the leaves up, there will be lots more fodder for the compost pile, after which that pile will be "decommissioned" and a new one will begin where last year's was spent. I'm pretty pleased with my compost this year. It has been a year in the making, and I am still picking out the big chunks of wood, branches, and spruce cones. But I seem to have a lot more compared to last year, so much that I'm thinking of places other than the vegetable garden to apply it.

I guess once all that's finished, it's time to start thinking about plans for next year, time to tend The Imaginary Garden. Well, I am trying to follow a crop rotation model, so I have some limits to work within. Next year will mean lots of brassicaceae and papilionoideae, so I've been thinking of bok choy and cabbage, along with something for dry bean use. I'm getting better at thinking ahead and figuring out what to plant that can actually be used. I want to work even harder at planting open-pollinated varieties so that I can get to a point of at least quasi-self-sufficiency (I'm not sure I'll ever be at the fully self-sufficient level).

In the meantime, I'm going to read more blogs by self-sufficient gardeners and farmers, as well as local foodies. I want to read more books about local and slow food and perhaps make an effort to try the few gourmet restaurants in this area that specialize in it. I'm planning also to sign up with a local CSA, which might involve volunteer hours with a local farm. It might be a good way to learn how others work, especially at a large scale.

What's funny is I used to think of gardening as more of a seasonal task, but now I'm thinking of it more as year-round and ongoing. What are your plans for next year?

Blooms & Vegetables

I missed yet another Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day.  This time it was due to problems importing photos from my camera to the computer.  By the time I got them all uploaded, it was very late, and I was very tired, too tired to make an entry.  Oh well, maybe next time?

In the mean time, I do have some blooms.  Most of my garden is suffering the mid-July dry spell, which I am slowly working to correct.  One of my online acquaintances told me that it takes years to really get a garden going, and I'm beginning to see what she means.  I keep reminding myself to take things slow and really consider what I want out of the space.  Each year is an improvement, and I learn from every mistake.

I always try to keep some impatiens around, since they do well in the part to full shade conditions of the front porch facing east.  This year I grabbed a few pinkish/lavenderish Elfin hybrids, which have added some much needed color.

The stars of the front flower garden right now are the 'Stargazer' Oriental lilies, which have mostly turned out more pink than I imagined.  But wow, they are beautiful and smell fantastic.

In the backyard, the vegetable garden is holding up well, though it's barely produced anything for a meal.  Last Friday I decided to dig for potatoes and found these little beauties:

I washed them and then hid them in the pantry for later.  On Monday I made a nicoise salad for two, with my steamed fresh new potatoes and green beans from the farmers' market.  The beans were a little tough, but my potatoes were tasty.  Though, to be honest, I could not discern much of a difference in texture or flavor compared to the store-bought variety.  Even so, on principle, I prefer the homegrown variety.  I never realized how easy they are to grow.

Otherwise, I have no carrots, no green onions, have harvested one jalapeno pepper, and two tomatoes that turned out to be rotted inside.  Two weeks ago, I harvested all my beet leaves and used them to replace Swiss chard in a pasta dish, which turned the pasta pink--but boy did it taste good.  I have tons of tomatoes, a few of which are just itching to turn red.  Odds are that August will be the major harvest season, and I'll have more than I know what to do with.

By the way, that acquaintance I mentioned keep track of her garden online, if you'd care to have a look.  She and her partner (C.P. McDill, proprietor of ambient music label Webbed Hand Records) utilize many principles of permaculture in creating a garden that is organic and sustainable, a place that is capable of producing a majority of the food they need--but also beauty and color.  I've found it particularly inspiring.

Winter Settles In

I haven't posted anything in this blog for a month now. I considered posting for Bloom Day and Muse Day, but the dates passed me by and I'm afraid I had to miss out (not that I would have had anything to post as far as blooms go). Since Thanksgiving, we've been inundated with snow and ice here in Kansas City, yet the weather has generally been quite mild. As we left for Christmas with family in Jefferson City last Saturday, we were trailed by clouds full of more snow. I'm unsure how much we got, however, because most of it has melted off.

The photo on the side here is how the vegetable garden looked just 3 weeks ago, taken right as the snow was falling over a layer of ice. I believe we got a couple of beautiful inches that day.

And here's the Egyptian lady in the front garden, covered up in snow. I never bothered cleaning up this area, but I think the dried-up foliage adds a lot of interest to what would otherwise be blank space. The sedum and irises look particularly nice.


My indoor herb plants have taken over sections of the living room, essentially any space I can eke out, as the sunlight is very limited. This project led to a Goodwill search for any sort of small table or plant stand I could find. We found a little cart that fits quite a few plants and can be wheeled around. I'm not exactly sure what the intended purpose of this thing is, but the rack on the bottom seems like it would fit magazines or something of that nature.

For Christmas this year, I decided to go homemade and made gifts of preserves and pumpkin bread. We had a great deal of preserves left from last summer and fall-- apple-ginger marmalade, salsa, and a green tomato dip--but I also made some apple butter and tomato marmalade.

Pumpkin and/or squash bread has been a sweet staple for the last few years. The original recipe comes from a Martha Stewart Living magazine from 02/03 and is originally intended for buttercup squash, but I've figured out it works just as well for any other type of winter squash--including pumpkin. Halloween being my favorite holiday and autumn being my favorite season, I usually buy as much squash for decoration as I can afford to. But after the season is over, these vegetables tend to get thrown away, which strikes me as such a waste. If you compost your vegetables, it's not as big a deal, but that's still a lot of food to throw away, if you ask me. For the last 2-3 years I've been roasting, pureeing, and then freezing pumpkin and squash in an effort to be more frugal and create less waste. While it's true that jack o'lantern pumpkins contain more water than the smaller and more dense pie pumpkins, I've used them for pies, pumpkin bread, and even pasta sauce. Despite what some will tell you, I've not noticed a discernible difference in flavor.

While roasting and pureeing in the fall can take some time, it's worth the labor later on. It's actually pretty simple. For smaller pumpkins and squash, cut the vegetable in half and pull out the seeds. (If you want to, you can hull the seeds and roast them, or dry and save for planting next year.) For larger pumpkins, cut into pieces to fit on a cookie sheet or roasting pan. Cook at 450º-500º for about an hour or however long it takes for the flesh to get soft. You want the skin to dent completely when you touch it. Scoop the flesh into a blender or food processor and puree. Spoon puree into plastic containers or freezer bags. That's it! Now you have puree for pies, bread, cakes, pasta sauces, and maybe more.

To celebrate the season, here's my recipe for pumpkin/squash tea bread. Copy it and make a batch at home. It makes one regular loaf or 4 mini-loaves and freezes beautifully. Since we tend not to eat a lot of sweets, I will freeze half a loaf for later.

Squash or Pumpkin Tea Bread

1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted
1 1/2 cup flour (unbleached preferable; can be cut w/whole wheat)
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon ginger
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup brown sugar
2 large eggs
1 cup roasted squash or pumpkin puree (sweet squash like butternut or buttercup)
1/2 cup chopped pecans

1. Preheat oven to 350º. Butter and flour a loaf pan (or 4 mini-loaf pans) and set aside. Into large bowl, sift together flour, baking soda, spices, and salt; set aside.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk together sugar, eggs, squash puree, melted butter, and 1/4 cup of water. Fold squash mixture into flour mixture. Stir in pecans.

3. Pour the batter into loaf pan and bake until toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, about 1 hour. Turn bread onto a wire rack and let cool.

Here are 4 mini-loaves made last Friday. This year I tried a low-sugar bread cut with a Splenda/brown sugar mix, and it worked fairly well. My stepfather is a diabetic, so it's a bit easier for him to enjoy this version for breakfast. The low-sugar variety is not as sweet and rises a bit higher when baking. The color is also lighter, but if you're watching your sugar intake, it's something to try.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!