The Garlic Scape Caper

I walked out to the garden the other day, and saw this:
That, I found after a bit of Googling, is a garlic scape. And not only can you eat it, you should eat it. Leaving it on the plant will eventually sap strength from the bulb - not good.

Which begged the question: how big were the bulbs under there?
I am not a patient person.

Just ask my husband. Ask anybody.
Ask, well, ask this garlic plant.It wasn't very big as you can see. I replanted it and apologized with lots of water and gentle patting. (It's still not dead several days later...)

Instead, I just harvested the scapes and prepared to make some uber-yummy pasta primavera.
Chopped 'em up:They taste -- now get this! -- garlicky! And a little salty. Very nice flavor.

Threw them in a saucepan with some other stuff:Added mushrooms, sundried tomatoes . . .. . . some garden-grown oregano:. . . some summer squash, red peppers . . .
. . . garden-grown arugula, some white wine, yummy cheese . . .. . . saved some garden-grown basil to sprinkle on top:
And then we ate it before I remembered to take a picture of the finished dish. Doh! Should only have my wine after the photographs are done. Trust me, though; it was a delish dish. Try it out with whatever you have on hand.

Here are some other pretty pictures from the garden last weekend:

Happy chard:
Happy Amish Sugar Snap Peas in spring rain:


And a wee bean trying to make it out of the dirt.
Cilantro that is moving on to the next phase of life:
Spinach that was hiding so I wouldn't eat it (had it for dinner last night).
And summer squash getting ready to start a riot.
That's the update!

Don't give up....

First, let me say, I've been Berry, Berry bad.

Just about 2 months have passed since the last post. We have a trellis. We have a trellis. Refresh button. We have a trellis. Still a trellis. 

So I ask you Chive me no more . . .

And Lettuce be friends . . .

. . . and put the Chard times behind us . . .

. . . and Peas

peas, 
PEAS! Forgive me for my inattention.

Believe me, it's bugged me too.

It's no excuse, but I've been Romaine around the globe pursing other adventures.

Specifically, I went to Kenya for a couple weeks to direct a documentary on people stretching.  (And I know that's not Romaine.)

Also, my work life has been tumultuous (New York Times want to shut us down? What?) to say the least, and my Papa had to get surgery (he's A-OK now).

In short, I've Bean busy.

The good news is that our gardens haven't suffered, only the garden of www.citylovescountry.com. And the garden of your curiosity about this patch of Medford, MA dirt. And the garden of my really bad puns hath become overgrown like the garlic,

 -- nay, it hath blossomed into this ridiculous apology post.

There is much to write about and show now that spring has spring with such force.  Consider this a preview postcard of things to come. I won't abandon you again. Until I do.

Feline any better?

Garden Porn ("Winter vs. two but's" final installment)

The mailman came the other week and delivered a fantasy. The seed catalog is 98 pages of wishful thinking and undreamed-of self confidence. Gorgeous images of vegetables - voluptuous, dewy and thrown together in opulent piles - promise themselves to me, if only I am skilled enough.

There's the rub. The produce is one sort of taunt, the obvious one. But the real fantasy here is that I could be the sort of master gardener to coax these beauties from the earth. That I could pop a seed, maybe two, check in the morning and wham, I'm a garden goddess. Gone would be the memories of puny carrots, short as erasers and equally tasteless. Forgotten is that dreadful August day when I accidentally cut the main vine of the winter squash. And I'd no longer feel so inadequate when faced with the mountains of robust produce at each farmers' market.

The etymology of the various vegetables listed in the catalog could be a study in itself. Some names are plainly descriptive: (ie, the albino beet)

some are mildly offensive:
(the "lazy housewife" bean),

and some are straight to the point: ("Jacob's Catle Gassless" bean - which is "Reported to have half the flatulence of regular Jacob’s Cattle." FYI).

I think two of my favorite names (given that I've think this whole magazine is a greener, dorkier version of porn) are "Kentucky Wonder Bush" and "Kentucky Wonder Pole." I am not making this up.

I guess Kentucky really is for lovers.

Moving on - let's talk about carrots. And my very, very inadequate, puny carrots that fed only the ants. I have hope for this year, though, for several reasons. First, now that the soil has had a year to assimilate all the compost I've added, I think it will encourage more downward growth (longer carrots). I think that last season, too many nutrients near the surface encouraged the carrots (and some beets, too) to hang out close to the soil surface.

So I'll try again with my Danvers Carrots, but a new bull's in town. Meet Oxheart:

"Hard to find heirloom introduced in 1884. Uniquely shaped short, very thick roots are 5-6" deep by 3-4" in diameter and grow over 1 pound very rapidly."

I like that they're already short, so when I pull up short carrots, I'll know they were meant to be that way. Also, I'm a Taurus and feel an affinity for anything stubborn and purposeful. Those veggies look pretty fierce. My money's on them.

Corn came next. I almost skipped this chapter because I don't really want to grow any corn in the space that I have. Besides, I'm getting chickens this spring and 8-foot-tall rows of corn may just push my neighbors over the edge.

But let me show you the pictures that nearly changed my mind. Meet Japonica Striped Maze:"Blue Jade":. . . and "Strawberry Popcorn:"The jury's still out.

Have you ever heard of ground cherries? I came across "Aunt Molly's Ground Cherry" and now I can't think of a more perfect plant."Ground cherries were recorded as early as 1837 in Pennsylvania. This outstanding variety originated in Poland and is prized for its clean flavor. Fruits are ½ to ¾" in diameter and are encased in a papery husk that turns brown when the fruits ripen. Stores 3-4 weeks in the husk. Extremely productive plants have a sprawling habit and grow 18" tall and 24" wide. Excellent citrus flavor, can be used for preserves, pies, over ice cream or in fresh fruit salads. Starts fruiting by the end of July and continues until frost and a little beyond, extremely productive."

To summarize the rest of my notes:

Definitely going to plant eggplants. Looking at Florida High Bush ('cause they produce lots of sturdy little eggplants),Lista de Gandia (because they're gorgeous) and Thai Green (because I like to eat them).

As for lettuce, I'm totally confused. I wasn't happy with last season's variety (I picked up some seeds at a grocery store), and I don't know where to begin.

I'll plant as many peas as I possibly can, especially the Amish Snap Pea.

Ditto for sweet bell peppers such as Wisconsin Lakes.

Tomatoes, OMG. SO many. Mostly Brandwines, because they are divine, and lots of yellow pear-shaped miniature ones such as Beam's Yellow Pear Tomato.
I have to stop here or this post will go on an on and on and...

Bottom line: I'm staying away from the monocrop seed packets at the hardware store. This season, it's all about genetic heritage, hope and luck.