asparagus

Flowers, Cats & Weeds

June 23, 2015

Bouquets in my house are cyclical: snowball viburnums (my favorite), followed by lilacs (my favorite), then peonies (my favorite)… and then there is a lull. I’m in the lull. I cobble together whatever I can make look good. I’ve got a couple borage blossoms with some immature hydrangeas (my favorite), Lady’s Mantle (my favorite) and two stems of peonies that — if you bump — will fall apart because they are pretty much almost dead. After this, I’ll hope for lots of sunflowers (my favorite). But, as summer progresses, I’m less good about cutting flowers. Not sure why. I always regret it when they are gone.

Anyway, on to another subject: I’m done picking the asparagus. It was a good run. I was toying with the idea of replanting some new crowns, since mine are almost 20 years old now and seem to be slowing down. But seriously. I give 7/8ths of it away. My asparagus could get a whole lot worse than it is now and I’d still have enough to force on the UPS man. So that items gets ~~crossed off the list~~.

I love crossing things off the list.

I think I might have mentioned weeding the asparagus in the last post. Something to the effect that I would weed after the next significant rain. Since it has rain significantly just about every other day in the past month, I really have no excuse.

I began the process this weekend.

This is not weeding for the faint-of-heart. It requires digging and lifting and shaking and swearing. Lots of swearing. Cuz that’s what you do when the weed breaks off instead of: slowly… slowly… giving way as you pull… pull… it’s coming… uhhhhh…. slowly… YES!

[That’s what successful weeding should sound like in your head.]

When it sounds like this: slowly… slowly… giving way… it’s coming… SNAP. Then you yell, “SHIT.” And wipe your dripping face off with a muddy glove (so it looks like you are reeeeally working hard when your Dave comes out to see what you are doing).

I didn’t finish all the beds because we had a grad party in another time zone to blast off to.

I don't know if it makes any difference, but I don't throw weeds in the compost. I let it rain into the wheelbarrow, then wait for them to start to decompose, then wheel them into the woods. Why don't I do it right away? — I don’t know if it makes any difference, but I don’t throw weeds in the compost. I let it rain into the wheelbarrow, then wait for them to start to decompose. When the whole mess gets really, really stinky, I dump the now 3x heavier load into the woods.

Leaving weeding unfinished is always a bit of a gamble. Will it ever get done? I’m going to try to finish it up today because, well… it rained another inch this morning. So I have no excuse.

This is where I left my tools on Saturday. Today, they are muddy and wet from another inch of rain. Why don't I ever put my toys away? — This is where I left my tools on Saturday. Today, they are muddy and wet from another inch of rain. Why don’t I ever put my toys away?

But here’s the thing about weeding — any weeding, really. It is so supremely SATISFYING. Who among us has not spent an afternoon weeding who didn’t then go way, way out of their way to walk past the weeded area and stand there and simply admire it? In my case it goes on for several days.

I tend to stop doing that about the time the weeds show up again.

Actually. This whole process pretty much sums up the definition of insanity, now that I think about it.

Mooshie comes in for some hot and humid fur-to-skin transfer

In an effort to appeal to a wider audience, here are some more cat pictures.

Ollie helps me fold the blanket — Ollie helps me unfold the blanket

Ollie helps me put new sheets on the bed — Ollie helps me put ‘clean’ sheets on the bed.

Stop the Insanity!

June 6, 2011

(Insanity as in asparagus.)

As I was working in the garden this weekend — planting almost the remainder of the seeds — it occurred to me that the date was June 5th. Or 6th. I’m still not sure of the date because Charlie was using my watch this weekend to referee a soccer game and the strap broke. Note that in the picture above, I do have my watch on, which is confusing to say the least. I can neither remember the order of events, nor explain them to you. Just know that I speak the truth.)

(Yes, I yelled at him. And, yes, he denied any wrong-doing. So, yessss, I yelled some more and told him to bear some responsibility for the the things that just seem to “happen” to him all the time. “Be accountable,” I yelled!)

Anyway, that’s the only way I know what the date is, to look on my watch. Even that, as a source, is failing me mightily since the numbers are about two millimeters high and I can barely even see them anymore.

But I digress.

As I was working in the garden, it occurred to me that it was early June. The fact that I was in the middle of my insane asparagus bounty and still planting seeds shocked me. As I contemplated what I would say in this post, I realized that I would be writing for a small audience –only Minnesotans — for who else in this world considers June to be Spring?

Who cares, really? If you have fresh, tender asparagus, I’ve got a tip for you: keep it raw and put it in a salad. I won’t go so far as to tell you to eat spear after spear raw, like my dad does — because I think it tastes like grass — but in an effort to plow through a ridiculously large pile of the stuff after being gone for the weekend, I decided to try it in some salads. I made refrigerator pickles (good, but what isn’t good when soaking in sugar and vinegar?) and an asparagus quinoa salad (amazing!)

I highly recommend you try it. I’ve made the salad twice now, once with quinoa and once with bulgar wheat. Both were good and had their benefits. The quinoa was more fun to eat since the tiny grains burst and pop in your mouth like the little fish eggs on sushi (that sounds so gross, but it’s true). The bulgar had more eye-appeal since it had — at least the way I cooked it — less moisture and more contrast.

The salad would also be good with barley or orzo pasta.

I tried various implements to slice the asparagus razor thin and defaulted to a knife. The mandolin was a pain (and dangerous) because the asparagus tends to have a lengthwise fiber to it which interferes with the mandolin. Most of my stalks had this split toward the bottom:

…which is maybe a factor of them being so tall when I picked them. But made the slices less pretty. A vegetable peeler is great if you want long strips, but I found long strips to be too cumbersome to eat. So I just used a knife and cut them on the diagonal. Then I used the mandolin on a super thin setting and sliced up two radishes.

I also added garbanzos, toasted pine nuts, shaved pecorino (as always, my cheap and beloved substitute for ridiculously priced parmesan).

The quinoa was super salty (I like it like that) and a little “wet” (I don’t like it like that.)

I’m not a quinoa expert. I’m not even a novice. Is this the right texture??

Anyway, I dressed it with lemon juice and olive oil, salt and pepper. Who knew something that stupidly simple could taste so good? (Seriously. I did not know that.)

Asparagus Salad with Grains

3/4 cup quinoa (or bulger or other grain) cooked according to package directions, but be sure to season with salt!
approx 8 thinly sliced raw asparagus spears
big handful pine nuts, toasted
1 can of garbanzo beans rinsed and drained
2 radishes, very thinly sliced
shaved pecorino or parmesan to taste
1/4 – 1/2 fresh lemon, squeezed (amount to taste. start with 1/4 and add more if necessary)
1/8 – 1/4 c olive oil (same as above. add more as necessary. I added 1/8 c with the wetter quinoa and 1/4 c with the drier bulgar wheat

Toss together all ingredients. It lasts for days in the refrigerator!

Here is a picture of what it looks like with bulgar wheat:

This is a spoiler alert, but I also added preserved lemon to my second batch. That’s fodder for another post, as you’ll see why later in the week, but it was good.

And as a point of reference in my ongoing battle of the asparagus bulge, here is a before and after of the pile:

Before making salads:

After:

Either I’m a bad photographer, or that pile didn’t change much.

With Silver Bells and Cockle Shells

May 12, 2011

And Asparagus Stalks All Over the Messy Row.

Mary, Mary would have a hard time with this stage of the garden. Let me illustrate:

9 am:

4 pm:

And finally, at 9 pm, right before I picked it:

And, no, I didn’t touch the ruler all day. Isn’t that amazing? I marvel every year in astonishment.

And then I go running around trying to unload asparagus on everyone I know. I should note that not two hours after my last writing when I finished with…

*now would be a convenient time for all you locals to conveniently stop by to drop off some fictitious object and casually ask for a ‘garden tour.’

…my friend Michelle’s husband showed up with 6 pallets for Charlie’s soon-to-be Airsoft gun war (God help me) and left with about a pound of asparagus. So, call me what you will, but don’t call me a liar.

Here is another astonishing thing I found in the garden last week:

Lettuce seedlings!

Last September, I re-seeded lettuce with plans for a fall crop. They never germinated. I couldn’t believe that it was because the weather was still too hot, because it was September, and only weeks away from the first frost. I never figured it out.

And then they germinated. Eight months and about 1000″ of snow later. I guess it was too hot. So yeah, I’ll be enjoying some early garden lettuce.

…and not much else, since I haven’t gotten anything else planted yet.

Maybe I can eat toasted woodticks sprinkled on top of my garden lettuce. I seem to have a lot of them hanging around my office.

For some reason, I imagine they would taste a lot like pine nuts. And they’re a lot cheaper, too.

Random Acts of Spring

May 10, 2011

Well, it’s here.

Or at least we think it’s here. (Spring.)

Based on the air quality today, however, my guess would be that we pretty much are skipping Spring and heading straight to Humidity. After a long winter, I’ll try my best not to complain.

It’s just that my hair is…

It’s just that my armpits are…

It’s just that my feet really do…

Speaking of feet, I just don’t get all these people jumping up and down for joy because they get to put their socks away for the season and wear flip flops. Am I the only one who wishes she could wear socks all summer long? Am I the only one with sweaty, slippery, slimy, smelly feet? (Socks help.)

So, I finally, finally, FINALLY picked asparagus this morning!

And then I promptly made this:

Which really does not look very good in that picture, but I can assure you it was. One note: I sniped some chives to sprinkle on the top; I always seem to forget to use chives. And for how much I hate the damn plants (see here), you’d think I would at least try to get some enjoyment out of them.

And here’s what I realized today:

I have dug so many chive plants out of my garden, cursing the whole while, that I have come to associate the taste/smell (they are one in the same) to be a bad thing.

So, my aesthetic attempt to make the plate prettier almost ruined my enjoyment of the meal!

I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. I hate chives. I used to say “the plant and not the food.” But now I think I have to say “the plant AND the food.” The cycle is complete.

Speaking of chives, (isn’t that the worst lead in for a topic? I don’t think I’ve ever heard a story that starts with “speaking of…___” that I really wanted to hear. Oh well. Stop reading if you must.)

…I was spreading compost on Sunday — a full month later than last year, due to our late Spring — and came across tons of this weird matted grass stuff that hadn’t fully composted.

I could break up the bundles with my hands, as I pretty much do for all the compost, since I never turn it and it needs to be ‘fluffed’ before spreading

(sorry – over-exposure!)

And when it’s all broken up it looks more like this

And if I step back one more step, it looks like this

Which is really crazy, if you look at that top layer. You’d never think the compost underneath was ready! But anyway, I just kept coming across those very dense, matted grassy clumps. I just couldn’t figure out what they were. And then I saw this…

Chives! Living, breathing, green, flippin’ CHIVES! How did they get there, you ask? Well, here’s an excerpt from last year or the year before, when I dug out massive, overgrown clumps of chives. I can’t remember when; I’ve blocked it out:

The impromptu plan was to dig them all and toss them into the weeds. Or the compost pile. Would they adequately die in the compost pile? Or would they take root in there and cause me no end of problems come spring? Worse, if I tossed them into the deep grass outside the garden, would they root out there and take over our entire prairie? So many things to contemplate as I dug these horrific, good-for-nothing plants! So huge! So heavy!

Then, I noticed all the worms living in the mat of roots beneath the surface. Would they die if I heaved the 30 pound plant hunks into the void? Are worms active enough this time of year to move their locale? Maybe I should put them carefully into the compost pile. Poor little worms. Such hard workers in the garden…

Suffice to say, I did indeed put them into the compost pile. I knew they wouldn’t die easily and I took measures, continually turning them over to expose the roots to air, and when that didn’t work, hitting them with RoundUp. (I know. That’s cheating.) RoundUp seems to kill everything you don’t want it to kill.

Because, to what should my wondering eyes appear? …but a miniature shoot and 8 tiny chives (not so) dear.

I hate chives.

On a good note, I don’t hate Pokie.

And I almost never hate Lola.

…who always looks so stupid in photos. I assure you she is not. And that’s why I sometimes don’t like her. I would prefer a dumb dog to a brilliant one.

AND, I don’t hate my Mother’s Day flowers.

…because Morgan made them for me and of course I don’t hate her.

Even though she is a 16 year old girl. Was I ever like that?

Anyway, that’s it for now. I’m sure I’ll be telling you how much I hate asparagus* very soon. (But not yet!)

*now would be a convenient time for all you locals to conveniently stop by to drop off some fictitious object and casually ask for a ‘garden tour.’

We’re Not in Kansas Anymore

November 17, 2010

This is Minnesota, folks.

…Despite those 70 degree October temperatures that somehow, unbelievably, made it in to early November.

We reveled in it. We wore flip-flops in November! The decadence. The sheer thrill!

It’s basically what every other state in the nation gets to do on a regular basis, except us. I bet they wear flip-flops (which I call thongs, but get harassed by the younger set for calling footwear by the now ubiquitous term for a g-string) in Kansas.

Well, no more. We got about 10″ of heavy wet snow on Saturday that is still sticking around on Monday. […and Tuesday, and now Wednesday]

So this post is an ode to Fall. I never got around to posting some of my favorite pictures of late fall. And now the snow went and wrecked it all. It smashed my beautiful Miscanthus grass and the pretty asparagus fronds. It covered up all my shovels in the garden that I was lulled into thinking I would use again. It dashed my hopes for a Christmas photo (no, I still don’t have one yet) in the golden light of a daylight savings savings sunset (at about 3 pm).

If I could embed music, I would choose something sad from The Mission.

None of these have been edited in Photoshop. They are straight out of the camera. Not a credit to me as a photographer, but to God’s majesty and the beautiful colors of fall!

I suppose that could be in focus better, but isn’t it pretty? The color?

I’m a spaz with the focus. It’s true. But this one is better.

This is the perfect picture to show the season: Peegee Hydrangeas caught between Fall and Winter.

Another lesson on how not to focus, but pretty none-the-less. This is the asparagus fronds in the dewy rain of late October.

And then I looked up from my tendency to go “macro” all the time and saw this one lone birch tree.

So pretty.

And now it’s all gone. Including — again! — my sweet meat squash that got froze-to-death and turned to mush. I’ll probably never get to taste one of them.

I do love snow. But I hate the mess. The mud before it really freezes. The cold. The heating bills. The grey skies.

Snow is the only bonus prize of winter.

What a Difference a Day Makes

May 24, 2010

In Minnesota, anything is possible. Anything with the weather, that is. On Saturday, I laid in bed, reading, working on my computer, happy. The weather map showed a great big sunshine with a high of 83. Not sure why that was, because out my window it was windy, cold, and 48 degrees. And then, in true Minnesota fashion, by Sunday it was humid and 90.

While much of the time I tend to be unmotivated and lazy, I go through periods of high activity. I call it my Busy Beaver mode. I do all kinds of things that have been nagging away at me. Like my ironing.

Kidding. I never do my ironing.

I’m talking about stuff like re-caulking, stripping my kitchen table, grinding the edge of a paver that heaved over the winter. Fixing my stove. Stuff like that.

So I’ve been in Busy Beaver mode for almost a week now. And let me tell you: these things are really better left undone. Laziness has it virtues. Consider this:

The caulk I spent 2 hours applying and perfecting, apparently is bad or expired. Apparently this happens (google “silicone won’t dry” and see for yourself). You have to take it all off and re-do it with new caulk. Shoot me now, because that sounds more pleasant than re-caulking.
I began stripping the kitchen table on a cold and windy Saturday. I applied the first coat of polyurethane on Sunday — when it was 88 degrees and about 75% humidity. Needless to say, it is still wet.
The three hours I spent taking apart my gas cooktop, in order to *finally* figure out why the back burner wasn’t working resulted first in triumph: “I think I finally know what’s wrong with it!!” And was quickly followed by despair: “The part you are looking for has been discontinued by the manufacturer and cannot be replaced.” Calls to obsolete parts stores and online searching resulted in a big fat nuthin’.

Shouldn’t we feel rewarded for our efforts? It seems as though I’m being punished.

Getting to the point of my post: because of these tasks, I neglected to go out to the garden for one day. One stinkin’ day. I last picked the asparagus on Saturday afternoon, mind you. It had been left on its own for 36 hours. This is what I was presented with this morning:

Eee gads. At this point I think, “Oh the Hell with it, I’m just gonna let go to seed. I’m sick of it anyway.” But then the other side of my very active brain says, “But Sharon and the rest of the family will be counting on boatloads of asparagus over Memorial Day weekend…”

And so I set about crushing beetles and picking the good spears. Much of it I left to go to seed. It’ll happen over the weekend while we are gone anyway, I would guess.

In other gardening news, I feel like a farmer when I say this, but: I got my beans and corn in!

I still have to get the cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, squash, melons and zucchini planted. That seems like a long list… It IS a long list, though I do tend to wait until after Memorial day to plant the tomatoes, peppers and eggplant plants (Remember: anything can happen in Minnesota with regard to the weather). I know what you are thinking, and yes, the seeds should have been in the ground a week or two ago I can’t help it. I’ve been busy. It’ll be fine.

Then, I just have to remember to update my garden notebook with where everything is planted so I remember for next year. It’s funny how if I don’t do it right away when I’m first planting the garden, it just never gets done.

I always mean to note planting dates, first harvest dates, notes about growing conditions, pests, etc. I’ve been keeping the notebook since 1998. It’s been 12 years. I’m still working on it. In fact, I’m gonna go get it right now and update it. Hopefully, I won’t get distracted by something on my way…

Asparagus, Week Four

May 21, 2010

For the uninitiated, this is better known as: Stage Three.

“Dave,” I ask, “Is there anyone you want to brown-nose at the office?”

“No, not really.”

“Charlie. Do your teachers want more asparagus?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Morgan?”

“NO MOM!”

I rack my brain… Who has told me they would do anything for fresh asparagus? I can’t remember.

Something tells me that everyone must be as sick of it as we are. Fickle, us human beings, aren’t we? How long ago was it that I was laying on my belly, scrounging around looking for those first tips to emerge from the soil? And it’s come to this?

I walk out to the garden and instead of jumping for joy, I am filled with dread: MORE ASPARAGUS!

It doesn’t help that every time I go to pick it, I am faced with this type of debauchery:

A threesome, no less!

Ugh. Asparagus beetles. Striped. Spotted. I’ve got ’em all. And the same winter that had such a nice insulating blanket of snow for my plants, also protected the pests. At least that’s my suspicion. I have never had this many beetles. Not even close. In the past, I’ve pretty much ignored them as they were more of a nuisance than anything. But this year, they are actually damaging the spears. Chewing right into them. So I go out there with my gloves and crush as many as I can. It’s pretty gross. Not as bad as decaying worms swimming around in green slime on top of the pool cover, but right up there.

Stage Three Asparagus meals are…

Oh Gosh, I can hardly even write about it. I’m so sick of asparagus.

Stage Three Asparagus meals are roasted or grilled. Tonight I’m roasting it. For the life of me, I can’t imagine why anyone would ever want to cook or eat asparagus. Ever. Again. But for the sake of formality, I bring to you this insipid Stage Three Asparagus recipe.

Oven Roasted Asparagus with Balsamic Vinegar

1 bunch, or 3-4 spears per person, asparagus
1 T olive oil
1 T balsamic vinegar
lots of kosher salt and fresh ground pepper.

Preheat the oven to 475. In a perfect world, you would heat the pan in the oven as it preheats and add the asparagus to the hot pan. I didn’t do that tonight. You can use a baking sheet or a cast iron pan. Put the asparagus in a single layer in the pan and drizzle with olive oil, roll around to coat.

Pick off any stray maurauders:

Put in the oven. After about 5 minutes (it should be sizzling pretty good), use a spatula or an oven-mitted hand to roll across the top of the asparagus (to turn them all at once) it and cook another 3-5 minutes. Drizzle with balsamic, salt and pepper. Bang it down on the table with dinner and tell them they have to eat it. You don’t care how sick they are of it. Fresh asparagus is a gift from GOD and dammit, they better ENJOY it.