our big food swap

Some folks in my office orga­nized an event where we’d bring in our excess fruits and veg­gies and do a big exchange for some of the other things peo­ple brought to share.

My main time of hav­ing excess food in my gar­den is around March, when the grape­fruit tree goes crazy. Now in the late throes of sum­mer, the gar­den basi­cally had herbs to share–I didn’t think the figs would make it intact in a tight back­pack as I scootered to work. So here’s my lit­tle pile of offer­ings: rose­mary, pars­ley, lemon­grass and rose gera­nium. Peo­ple weren’t con­vinced that rose gera­nium was edi­ble, so I also brought a cou­ple recipes. [ Here’s one of them. ]

I didn’t feel so bad that my figs didn’t make it in. Some­one had three trees of green figs, all of them ripen­ing at the same time.

We have another gar­den­ing artist in the build­ing. He had some pot­ted toma­toes and sweet pep­pers to share. I helped myself to one of the pep­pers, Doux Long d’Antibes, a long sweet pep­per from up the coast from Cannes.

And here’s this glo­ri­ous col­lec­tion of hot pep­pers. I love my hot pep­pers, but being fairly coastal I have a hard time grow­ing them. This gar­dener lives inland a few miles, so the lit­tle bit of extra warmth helped her get this great crop. So of course my haul included a few of these as well.

This was the first time that this food swap was tried at the office, and I’d def­i­nitely call it a suc­cess. You reach a point where even neigh­bors and fam­ily don’t want to see you headed their direc­tion with a bag of fruit.

I’m hop­ing we can do this again, maybe in the late win­ter, when I’ll have kale and chard to spare, along with a tree full of amaz­ing grapefruit…

August 27 2010 | Categories: gardeningmy garden | Tags: | 8 Comments »

words are important

One night a week and a half ago, when much of the world was watch­ing the final “Amer­i­can Idol” show­down between Adam Lam­bert and Kris Allen or view­ing the finale of “Danc­ing with the Stars,” almost a hun­dred of us were at the local native plant soci­ety meet­ing to hear Kristie Orosco. Envi­ron­men­tal Direc­tor for the San Pasqual Band of Kumeyaay Indi­ans, eth­nob­otanist, and mem­ber of the Native Amer­i­can Envi­ron­men­tal Pro­tec­tion Coali­tion, our speaker gave us a quick intro­duc­tion to how some of the local Native Amer­i­cans tra­di­tion­ally used plants in their envi­ron­ment as food.

hesperoyucca-whipplei-chaparral-yucca-flowers

She was one of those rare com­mu­ni­ca­tors, a per­son who with a very few words can take you into a dif­fer­ent way of think­ing and see­ing the world. One thing she said, in par­tic­u­lar, has stuck with me. Instead of stat­ing that a plant blooms, she used the phrase that a plant “gives it flow­ers.” What a gor­geous way to phrase it: Instead of a plant being an inert bloom­ing machine that you pick up for a few bucks at the nurs­ery and toss when it turns ugly, it was a liv­ing entity that gives of itself by pro­duc­ing flowers.

How you say some­thing is as impor­tant as what you say, and her words opened up a world to me where every­thing in nature is a gift. Although I’ve devel­oped a cyn­i­cal side to my per­son­al­ity, I’ve tried to counter it by keep­ing alive a part of me that con­tin­ues to stay amazed at the things of the nat­ural world and almost will­fully naive about many of the ways of humankind. It’s that sec­ond side of me that’s cer­tain that the earth would be a lot bet­ter off than it is if we all spoke and viewed the land­scape the way Kristie Orosco did.

You often read that the plants you encounter in the wilds have tra­di­tional uses, but it’s not until you’ve had direct expe­ri­ence with the uses that the con­nec­tion really clicks. To cement that con­nec­tion, our speaker brought foods for all of us to try, enough to cover sev­eral large tables.

On the menu:

  • Shaawii, or acorn pud­ding (pink, looks like spam but it’s actu­ally edible–and sub­tly tasty)
  • Pit-roasted agave root (some­thing like a chewy, smoky vegan beef jerky–my favorite of the night)
  • Limeade with seeds of chia (Salvia colum­bariae)
  • Med­i­cine tea” (steeped dried flow­ers from Mex­i­can elder­berry, Sam­bu­cus mex­i­canus, very del­i­cately fla­vored, used for a num­ber of pur­poses, includ­ing break­ing a fever)
  • Yucca root (starchy, but dif­fer­ent from pota­toes in flavor)
  • Yucca flow­ers, boiled (the blooms of Hes­per­oyucca whip­plei, which is fin­ish­ing up giv­ing its flow­ers in many of our hill­sides around town; very del­i­cate fla­vor with a tiny nip of bit­ter­ness, brus­sels sprouts for peo­ple who don’t like brus­sels sprouts, or a new food for peo­ple who love arti­choke hearts)
  • Yucca flow­ers, raw (as above, only crunchier, a lit­tle more bitter)

hersperoyucaa-whipplei-leaves

I’ve always admired plants of Hes­per­oyucca whip­plei from a distance–The ends of its leaves end in sharp points that you have to show immense respect. Now that I’ve tasted its root and sam­pled its flow­ers and heard Kristie Orozco speak about the plant, my aes­thetic appre­ci­a­tion of it has deep­ened into some­thing else much richer.

June 01 2009 | Categories: gardeninglandscape | Tags: | 5 Comments »

first tomatoes and artichokes

first-cherokee-purple-tomatoes-of-the-season

greenhouse-tomato-plant

It’s hardly May, and I have my first toma­toes of the sea­son already, this gor­geous pair on a seedling of the heir­loom Chero­kee Purple.

Okay, I cheated a lit­tle. These are actu­ally hot­house toma­toes. Some seed I planted in the green­house last spring didn’t ger­mi­nate until last fall. Trans­plant­ing the plants out­doors in Novem­ber would have meant cer­tain death for the lit­tle toma­toes, but I didn’t have the heart to pull them out. One of them set down roots through the drainage holes of the pot and just kept grow­ing. Although the green­house is too shady and unheated, the plant sur­vived. And now I have these first two toma­toes, with more on the way.

I’ve never used the green­house for any­thing as prac­ti­cal as grow­ing veg­gies, so this will be an inter­est­ing experiment.

first-artichokes

The first arti­chokes of the sea­son are also on some plants that were almost acci­dents. For years we had a clump of an espe­cially good selec­tion grow­ing in the veg­gie gar­den. But a room addi­tion on the house put the gar­den in shade, and the plants went into decline. I dug them out and was going to toss them, until I decided to try a cou­ple stems in the back of a new raised bed. The com­bi­na­tion of more light, more mois­ture, and fresh compost-rich soil worked their magic, and the plants are now look­ing as good as they ever have.

I like to think that I earned some bonus points for show­ing some mercy and not toss­ing the tomato and arti­choke plants into the greens recy­cling. But in the case of the arti­choke, at least, it’s another life les­son in try­ing to find the right loca­tion for an under­per­form­ing plant.

Are there any plants that you’ve had sim­i­lar expe­ri­ences with? Any “res­cue plants” that ended up reward­ing you as much as oth­ers you’d planned for?

May 12 2009 | Categories: artgardeningmy gardenplaces | Tags: | 2 Comments »

controlled chaos

I often have trou­ble mix­ing orna­men­tals and veg­eta­bles together in a gar­den bed that’s sup­posed to be “for com­pany,” a bed that’s meant to be attrac­tive as well as con­tain­ing tasty-looking plants that you’d like to take to the din­ner table.

red-and-blue-and-purple-1

red-and-blue-and-purple-2

Some parts of the gar­den where I’ve snuck veg­gies in with the other plants look a lit­tle chaotic, but here’s a patch that I really like the looks of. Ear­lier I showed part of this cor­ner that the bed­room win­dow over­looks. But new things are start­ing to bloom, and the col­ors are start­ing to really click for me.

When I was putting this bed together, I set myself the main rule of “noth­ing yel­low.” In decid­ing what veg­gies to place there, I just stuck to that orga­niz­ing prin­ci­ple. (Okay, can you tell that I work in libraries and orga­nize infor­ma­tion dur­ing the week?)

This bed fea­tures sev­eral edi­bles: red-stemmed chard, orange-stemmed chard, Red Win­ter red Russ­ian kale, red beets, plus cat­mint for tea (and for the cat). The orna­men­tals include scar­let geum, pur­ple heliotrope, vio­let blue-eyed grass, the salmon-colored bulb Home­ria col­lina, two blue sages (Salvia sagit­tata and Salvia cacali­ae­fo­lia) plus a few other things not in bloom.

For sure, there’s a lot of red and blue and pur­ple going on here. But sev­eral vari­a­tions on green in the back­ground green do won­ders to pull together what might oth­er­wise be chaos.

I’m going to hate cut­ting any of these veg­gies for dinner…

April 04 2009 | Categories: my garden | Tags: | 9 Comments »

monster potato

What would you say if you ran across a 7 pound, 13 ounce potato in your gar­den? Pretty impressed? That’s the cur­rent offi­cial Guin­ness Book record holder as the world’s heav­i­est potato.

But the cur­rent BBC News Mag­a­zine site has a story on a farmer’s find in his field that blows away the cur­rent record holder. This spec­i­men report­edly weighs in at 24.9 pounds (11.3 kilos), and was pro­duced with “no fer­til­izer or other chem­i­cals,” accord­ing to the story. [ image source ]

From my cal­cu­la­tions, this potato, if mashed and served at a hol­i­day meal, would feed any­where from 50 to 125 eaters, depend­ing on how many of them are still doing the Atkins Diet. I’m afraid that, even with my extended fam­ily, I’d have a lot of leftovers…

December 09 2008 | Categories: gardening | Tags: | 2 Comments »

bacon is not a vegetable

So you’re a veg­e­tar­ian? No prob­lem! Peo­ple brought five dif­fer­ent veg­etable dishes!”

For any veg­e­tar­i­ans out there: How many times have you heard this bit of reas­sur­ance, only to go to the table and be faced with plate after plate of beautifully-grown veg­eta­bles that have been trans­formed into some­thing other than a veg­etable dish?

Green beans and onions cooked with chicken stock and sprin­kled with bacon?
Spinach with…bacon?
Mashed pota­toes with…bacon?
Brus­sels sprouts with…bacon?

For­tu­nately I’m not the strictest of veg­e­tar­i­ans. If the only options are veg­gies with bits of meat incor­po­rated into the dish, I’ll try to leave the meaty bits on the plate or eat around them. But there are plenty of folks I know who would decline the offerings.

We veg-heads are used to bring­ing our own dishes to these gath­er­ings. We also try to help out in the kitchen and tact­fully try to make gen­tle sug­ges­tions for sub­sti­tu­tions. But at a time of year when peo­ple focus on tra­di­tions, this is a del­i­cate issue that risks frac­tur­ing a fam­ily into upstarts and traditionalists.

There’s one easy sug­ges­tion that might please almost every­one at the table: Instead of putting bacon in every dish, why not fill a condi­ment dish with crunchy bacon bits that peo­ple could heap on top of their veg­gies? The veg­e­tar­i­ans would avoid it, leav­ing even more for every­one else! Also, you could offer a fla­vor­ful sauce on the side that could keep the bacon fans happy.

And of course, try­ing new prepa­ra­tions could come up with new fam­ily tra­di­tions. This Thanks­giv­ing prob­a­bly the most unusual dish was some­thing Olinda next door shared with us: a sweet and aro­matic prepa­ra­tion of sweet pota­toes and guavas. The plate looked sim­i­lar to tra­di­tional yams, but every­thing was heady with the aro­mas of fresh-baked guavas, some­thing that reminded me of the per­fume of flowers.

Olinda ran a Mex­i­can restau­rant until her recent retire­ment. Although sweet pota­toes and guavas is a tra­di­tional cel­e­bra­tory dish in Mex­ico, it unfor­tu­nately wasn’t one that ever showed up on the menu of her restau­rant. And I doubt that you’d ever see it offered at any main­stream Mex­i­can eatery.

I’m work­ing on Olinda to get her to divulge her recipe, but until I’m suc­cess­ful here’s a link to a recipe in the Texas Monthly that looks very sim­i­lar. Yes, it looks like a lot of sugar. This is a sweet dish, but I’m sure you could adjust the sugar to your lik­ing. But what­ever you do, don’t scrimp on the guavas!

(If you don’t have access to fresh guavas, there are a num­ber of recipes on the web that use the some­what eas­ier to find guava jam.)

December 03 2008 | Categories: rambles | Tags: | 2 Comments »

ancestral vegetables

cucumber seed packetSat­ur­day I put some seeds of Armen­ian cucum­ber into the ground.

There are heir­loom veg­eta­bles and then there are ances­tral vari­eties like this, vari­eties that go so far back into his­tory that to grow them and have them at your table is to con­nect with his­tory, tra­di­tions and the ground that they grow in. The Armen­ian cucum­ber dates back at least to the fif­teenth cen­tury, when it was intro­duced into Italy from Arme­nia. I’m sure it was being con­sumed long before then.

Although called a cucum­ber it’s actu­ally clas­si­fied as a melon, Cucumis melo var. flex­u­o­sus, and is closer genet­i­cally to hon­ey­dews than to the stan­dard Eng­lish or pick­ling cucum­bers. With its unusual ribbed creamy green exte­rior, you have to do a bit of explain­ing when you share the extras from the gar­den: well, yes…it’s called a cucum­ber, but it’s really some­thing different…

The flesh is mild and firmer than any other cucum­ber out there, almost crunchy, the tex­ture of unripe melon. The fruits can eas­ily reach 30 inches long, but are best picked when half that size. They’re great in sal­ads, and they pair amaz­ingly well with tomatoes.

Last year I started them in late June and had cucum­bers 60 days later. Two hills of plants were plenty for two peo­ple, with cukes left over for the neigh­bors. Pretty good soil, mod­er­ate water­ing and occa­sional fer­til­iz­ing kept them happy and pro­duc­tive until the end of Sep­tem­ber. Some peo­ple trel­lis them, but they’re fine if you let them roam like other mel­ons. I like this vari­ety so much that it’s one of those plants that I’ll keep plant­ing as long as I have room for it.

May 06 2008 | Categories: my gardenplant profiles | Tags: | No Comments »