The Endless Garden

My concept of gardening has changed dramatically over the years. When I was a girl, my dad planted in the spring, harvested in the summer, and that was that until the next spring. He never dreamed of planting a fall garden. Dennis’s dad did the same. Consequently, For several years Dennis and I gardened the way our fathers did.

Although I experimented one year using a hot bed for starting broccoli seedlings, our first real break with tradition occurred when I traded my neighbor a printer for a cold frame she built at an Extension Service workshop. Having the luxury of home-grown lettuce in winter made us true believers and we have continued planting cold frames in the fall ever since.

It’s plain to see that the cold frame works like a miniature greenhouse. Look at all the moisture trapped under the lids this morning, some of it running in rivulets down the plastic covers.

Dennis planted kale, baby bok choy, spinach, and lettuce in mid-October, and here are lettuce and baby bok choy seedlings, up and getting their first true leaves.

Still, we needed to replant kale, which didn’t germinate very well, and spinach, which didn’t germinate at all. We accomplished that in half an hour this afternoon. Now all we need is four fresh bales of straw to set around the back and sides of the frame for insulation.

When I ventured into having a fall garden, planting escarole, radicchio, turnips, Swiss chard, and other cool-weather vegetables in early August, we became year-round gardeners. Fall greens are better than spring-planted ones because there’s no hot-weather bitterness to them. They go on and on, even after a frost.

I had been thinking that the big garden was finished for this year, but when I visited it this afternoon, I realized that the big garden is never finished. Something is always growing there, whatever the season. The parsley is going strong, cilantro volunteers are thriving, and dill volunteers are ready to harvest for salad additions.

What’s more, the garlic and shallots planted last month are taking off and will continue to grow any time the winter weather warms. Here the young garlic fronts four remaining leeks that we planted in May. Swiss chard, on the left, is still growing, too.

Gardening is no longer a seasonal affair. It goes on all year, cycling over and over. I wish my dad were here to enjoy it with us. To be truthful, I’d like to show off for him.

Copyright 2013 by Shirley Domer

Another Obsession

I’ve become stubborn in my old age. For one thing, I am stubbornly dedicated to purchasing things made in the good old U.S.A.

Believe me, this obsession doesn't make life easy, but when so many in our county are unemployed, how can a citizen in good conscience buy new goods without knowing where they were made? Luckily, the Internet is a great help.

A few days ago Dennis and I were finishing our usual breakfast of toast and eggs and trying to add honey to the last bites of our toast. The honey, which I had transferred from its original glass bottle into a plastic squeeze bottle, was almost gone, and one couldn’t squeeze that bottle hard enough to get the honey out.

Right then and there I vowed to buy a honey pot, one with a lid that accommodates a dipper. We eat a lot of honey and I could keep a pretty honey pot on the table all the time instead of hiding an ugly plastic bottle in the cabinet.

Here’s where the Internet enters the picture. There was no need to drive from store to store looking for an American-made honey pot; I could shop on line. I searched for "honey pot" and found a jillion of ‘em and, thanks to similarly-obsessed-reader’s comments, I was able to identify those made in other countries. Even France’s famous Le Creuset has its honey pots made in China!

What a waste of energy it would be to transport my new honey pot halfway around the world! I wanted a beautiful honey pot made in the U.S.A., and by persistence I found one. It arrived today, one of a kind made by Rising Sky Artworks in Las Cruces, New Mexico.

I am a relatively happy woman, but don’t think I’ve gotten off my high horse about single-use plastic. Shopping for groceries today I glanced down an aisle I never use and was struck by one side of the entire aisle filled with single-use plastic bottles and aluminum cans.

What a contrast, huh? One lovely, useful thing that will last beyond my lifetime compared to a whole lot of ugly that will never go away.

Copyright 2013 by Shirley Domer

Too Many Turnip Greens

We’ve had more than three inches of rain in the past three days. The weather pattern was swirling counter-clockwise, warm air flowing up from the Gulf of Mexico meeting cold air coming from the west. Around and around it went, crashing thunderstorms announcing each new downpour. I enjoyed every minute of it, even at 3:00 A.M. today.

Even so, I knew that all the moisture would encourage the turnips to continue growing. They were just the right size for harvest, so Dennis pulled every one of the remaining plants.

Lucky for me we have been eating turnips right along, because even this harvest was a bit dismaying. Using kitchen shears I cut off all the old leaves for the chickens to enjoy. That’s their first bushel basketful beside me.

I reduced the amount of greens to an overflowing sinkful, after accumulating another bushel of leaves for the hens.

Finally I finished cutting out the midribs and chopping the leaves. Now they are simmering with olive oil and garlic. When they are done they won’t amount to much, considering all the labor involved, but they will make several packages to freeze for winter meals.

Considering the amount of time this task took, I probably should have given the chickens all the greens and emulated the squirrel that sat on the deck railing for a long time this morning, apparently enjoying the autumn colors.

Or maybe I should have climbed back on my high horse and continued to rant about the evil of single-use plastic. (If you aren’t familiar with the term “high horse,” Google it.)

Copyright 2013 by Shirley Domer

Lazy Cook's Tomato Sauce

Ever since I got the use of my arm back I’ve been freezing tomatoes for winter use. Some people like to simply freeze the whole tomato, but I think tomatoes turn to mush when treated that way. I stick to scalding the tomatoes in boiling water, slipping off the skins, chopping them and cooking them a little before freezing. The cooking kills the enzymes that otherwise continue to work on the tomato cells.

The entire top shelf of our freezer is filled with cottage cheese cartons full of tomatoes. Yesterday, faced with half a peck of ripe Roma tomatoes, I just couldn’t face another tomato preparation session. I had a notion to make tomato sauce, but all the recipes I found called for the scalding and peeling step.

But wait a minute, I thought. Why do the tomatoes have to be peeled? We eat the skins of fresh tomatoes without a thought. I decided to take a different approach. Our tomatoes are grown organically, so there’s no pesticide residue to worry about. I washed the tomatoes, cut off the stem end, cut them in half, scooped out most of the seeds with my finger, and threw them into the food processor. I also put in a couple of small onions, a carrot, some garlic cloves, and a stalk of celery.

I pureed this mélange in three batches, adding each batch to a three-quart pot with a quarter-cup of olive oil. After simmering for two hours, the mixture was reduced by one-third. The result was six cups of slightly chunky, thick tomato sauce.

That’s the lazy cook’s approach and it worked out just fine. One side benefit is that the sauce is loaded with heart-healthy fiber. Another is that it used a lot less electricity. I think it’s a good deal all around.

Now, what am I going to do with the remainder of this year’s tomato crop?

Copyright 2013 by Shirley Domer

Thanksgiving, Here We Come

The hard freeze killed the forest of sweet potato vines.

All these leaves collapsed, leaving a tangle of vines. Now the time had come to harvest the crop. Being able to see the vines, one is able to find the exact spot where each plant originated.

Once a main stem has been located, the soil around it can loosened using a potato fork. Pulling away the loosened soil exposes the sweet potatoes. We had  planted some of the slips in a new, unimproved section of the garden. The soil is pure clay loam. It was dry and hard. It’s a good thing for us that sweet potatoes like poor, dry soil. Dennis loosened and pulled away the soil around this plant, revealing its clump of potatoes.

Then, using the trowel, he carefully dug away the soil surrounding the clump.

Although he spent more than ten minutes carefully digging them out, the end of one broke off. These are either Japanese yams or Garnet yams. I can't tell them apart.

This plant, grown in an older part of the garden, where the soil has been amended with organic matter, was much easier to harvest. Dennis merely loosened the soil with the fork, tugged on the plant stem, and pulled the potatoes free.

The main trick to harvesting sweet potatoes is to follow this method and don’t rush it. Still, some will break or be impaled on a tine of the fork. These should be cooked right away because they won’t cure properly. The evening we harvested I cleaned and trimmed the broken ones and boiled them in their skins. After they had been drained and cooled, we peeled them and mashed them with buttermilk. (Yes, buttermilk.) Chopped crystalized ginger gave the dish an extra dimension. It was delicious.

I’ll be making mashed sweet potatoes again several times this coming winter. We have a plentiful supply. The largest ones, all Beauregards, weigh more than two pounds each.

Thanksgiving, here we come.

Copyright 2013 by Shirley Domer

Back on My High Horse

Yesterday Dennis and I attended a chili supper to benefit the Senior Center in Lawrence. Dennis is a member of the Douglas County Senior Services board so we had to not just buy tickets, but also show up. The people were lovely. They were of all ages but mostly older.

The food was served in plastic bowls and plastic-coated paper plates. The drink glasses were clear plastic and styrofoam. Although a large, open kitchen adjoined the auditorium, not a single real dish or glass was in sight.

Given my recent obsession with plastic it seemed quite right that Dennis found our places to sit at a table facing one of the two 20-gallon trash cans in the large room. For the second day in a row I was appalled by our casual disposal of huge bags of detritus from our social events. I snapped a few photos.

In the good old days we would have carried our used bowls, plates, spoons, forks, and glasses to the kitchen pass-through. In the kitchen busy women and a stray man or two would have been doing the kitchen clean-up. A couple of people would have shuttled the dishes on to the people washing and drying the dishes. A couple more people would be putting everything back in its place, ready to be used again. The kitchen was the scene of camaraderie, teasing, storytelling, and laughter.

How could we have let that go? How could we be so wasteful of not only resources but also opportunity to socialize over a common task?

Copyright 2013 by Shirley Domer

Just for Fun

The whites of fresh-laid eggs are rather liquid and tend to run in interesting patterns. This morning I cooked an angel fish egg.

I also cooked a chicken egg.

Hey, it’s Saturday and I can’t tackle serious topics every day of the week. If I don’t laugh occasionally I might turn into a shrew.

Copyright 2013 by Shirley Domer