arugula

Hello.

July 28, 2013

Remember me?
I have no excuses. I won’t even try. But as easy as it has been to use up the time freed by not posting my shenanigans here, it’s simply impossible to not share pics of the garden this time of year.

And what a year it’s been.

Surprise! Carrots are ready!

The Monarda (Bee Balm) in the prairie is breathtaking right now. Even if you aren’t keen on purple.

Something is missing from my brassicas this year. Can you see what it is?

Holes! Made by the ubiquitous cabbage worm/moth. Why? I have no clue! They simply are not here this year. I will not be heartbroken if they don’t make an appearance. I’m loving it! These are my Brussels sprouts. Aren’t they gorgeous?

And this is the kale. I thought I was planting mostly Nero Black Tuscan, but it looks to be mostly Red Russian and the curly variety.

Here’s the popular edamame. After a rocky start from leaving the electric fence turned off just one night (bunnies!) I had to replant. It’s finally doing well.

Here’s a view of onions and tomatoes. The onions are SO LATE. Course, I didn’t get them planted until late May but still. They look marvy. Very excited they are all standing upright and haven’t bolted. I haven’t had a good onion year in at least 3 years.

My pretty (rotten, lichen-covered) bench. The blue in front is borage (haven’t cooked with it, but just found a recipe for borage ravioli and might try it). The feathery white flowers are actually cilantro gone to seed. I love how it looks and that’s where I get my seed (and coriander for cooking!) for next year.

Hello, asparagus! Just who are you trying to impress?

More onions. These are the reds.
I realize I didn’t get any shots of the tomatoes. I’d run take some, but I’m trapped on a fishing boat pretending to be a good wife. (In fact, that’s why this post looks so funny — I’m doing it from my phone!) The tomatoes are… Struggling to catch up after a very late spring, a later summer, and most currently: nighttime temps in the 40s. Thankfully I bought a large Early Girl to plant or I wouldn’t be looking at a fresh tomato for at least another month. I still have two (out of eight) plants without a single tomato! 🙁

Very excited to see what colors these sunflowers are! As usual, I don’t remember what I planted.

Arugula: how I do love thee. There is no more simple thing to grow than you. I love you more than lettuce. But maybe not cilantro.

So that’s it for now. On a side note, there is a movement for National Kale Day! In honor of a post I wrote of the same name, go like it on Facebook and help them out: https://www.facebook.com/nationalkaleday.

More Uses for Garden Garbage

December 4, 2009

Wait! Before you rip those dead plants out of the garden and throw them into the compost/garbage (I seriously hope you aren’t throwing them in the garbage. I just had to tie it in with the title.), ask yourself if you can salvage anything.

Seeds, baby.

In my case, cilantro seeds. All over the internet, in books, in conversations, I hear this: “I just don’t have any luck growing cilantro.” Well, I have the solution.

1) plant some like you normally would, in an area that you won’t care about it going to seed.

2) curse when it bolts and goes to seed way, WAY earlier than you wanted it to.

3) leave it there

4) let it get old and dried out, occasionally running your hands through it and shaking the plants to get some of the seeds to fall to the ground.

5) rip it out and put it someplace dark and dry. Or in my case, stuff it in a bucket and leave it outside for about a month, let it get rained on and throw it into the compost. Then start all over. Actually, don’t do what I do. Do what I say. Same as parenting.

6) save the seeds. You’ll have a lot. Cook with them like I did here (as coriander). And save the rest for planting next year.

6a) Sort the seeds. I use various sized strainers with differs holes and mesh sizes:

7) in the spring, let the cilantro grow from the volunteer seeds that fell on the ground in the area it was planted the year before. Or, in my case, all around the bench where I inadvertently left it and the compost, where I ultimate threw it.

8 ) amend the volunteers in more orderly rows with the seeds you saved a few weeks after the first volunteers emerge.

9) cilantro doesn’t seem to suffer much, if at all, from pests or virus/wilts and therefore can stay in the same spot for many years. If you lighten up a bit, give up the idea of perfect rows and let nature take its course, you should have cilantro all year long. Sometimes in high summer, I will plant a few additional short rows in dappled shade to make sure I’ve got some in August, which is a tough month for cilantro.

10) let it go to seed, let it go to seed, let it go to seed. Even if you decide not to save the seeds. Walk by and rattled the dried plants. Let the seeds fall to the ground. And you will never have a problem growing cilantro again. You will have this constant cycle of new plants growing amidst the old.

This also works for arugula. In fact, I have arugula EVERYWHERE: in the driveway, in the chicken yard, in the prairie, and in the garden.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

(That was a good way to end, but I want to mention one more thing, because I tried this and it seems to work quite well. Everyone says you can’t preserve fresh cilantro. And I agree, for the most part. It isn’t good frozen or dried. People do it, but it just doesn’t taste the same. I tried turning it into cilantro butter and storing it in the freezer, though it will keep in the fridge for a couple weeks and tastes a bit better. It is really good. It doesn’t seem to suffer the same fate as when you try to freeze it by itself. Give it a try!)

I would be remiss not to mention that it also works for chives and various other weeds.

Just Got Back from a Lovely Trip…

July 6, 2009

And my garden was a mess! Weeds everywhere, super dry. Pea plants that dogs have made a complete mess of didn’t come back while we were gone as I had hoped:

Have I talked about this before? How I seem to have the only vegetable-seeking dogs? I don’t know, maybe it’s the absence of squirrels around here. But ever since we had our first Viszla (or is it Vizsla? I can never remember), I have had this problem. If I were a more disciplined blogger, I would run around after my animals with my camera to catch them in the act and show you. But it seems I am never quite organized enough for that. You will just have to take my word for it.

When I built my garden, I put the fence around it to keep wild animals out. The reason I am so careful to close the gates behind me now, is to keep my dogs out. (Well, them and the chickens, too. But, Lola-as you may remember-killed all the chickens last year and they are not allowed to free-range anymore.) Anyway, the problem is, the fence is about 10 years old now and falling apart. Lola-the sociopath-has identified its weaknesses and now browses the garden at will. This week, it’s the peas. A few weeks before that, it was the asparagus. I have come to consider this normal behavior. No big deal. But then people come over and totally freak out about it. Can’t get over it. So I mention it here, as you may find it entertaining. Makes me wish I actually did chase them around all day. But with the remote to the shock collar instead of a camera…

So, I will probably pull most of the sugar snaps tomorrow and salvage what I can. I was also faced with collapsed arugula plants that had gone to seed. I pulled them up and will save the plants until they are dry and keep the seeds. (Which is so insanely easy. I finally figured it out after arugula was growing everywhere that I had thrown the old plants.). Besides that, I found that each of the hard-neck garlic plants had sprouted a scape. They are pretty, but I need to cut them off so the plant puts all its energy into producing a bulb instead of the seed head.

And, saving the worst for last: the CHIVE PLANTS! I might just dig those damn things up once and for all. Why, oh why, when you read about the virtues of chive plants, does no one tell you of the perils? Look closely at the picture below and see if you can spot the tiny black specks inside the faded flowers. Yes? Well, should you so much as brush up against one of those damned plants, thousands of hardy little seeds will fall to the ground all around the plant. And even if you can’t get things to grow in pots or well-tended rows, mark my words that by the first freeze, you will have hundreds of baby chive plants. (Yes, I do know that dead-heading prevents this problem, but come on!)

Go ahead, just see if you can pull one out. I seriously doubt it. They are almost as bad as that beautiful chamomile. Or didn’t I tell you about that stuff, either?