|  Snow pea blossoms (dwarf grey sugar) on eve of summer solstice 2010. Summer solstice,the longest day,reaches it’s apex at 7:28 a.m.,Monday,June 21st. This point in the revolution of our tiny planet around the sun is notable in Zone 4,not only for the luxuriously extended hours of daylight and the way it makes plants leap with growth,but also the way it marks the end of the gardener’s mad rush to get summer crops in the ground. With the urgent, time-sensitive tasks completed, I finally took a deep breath, grabbed a glass of effervescent vinho verde in the lingering evening light and wandered the garden barefoot to admire the muscular green of young tomato plants, crunch a juicy sugar snap pea,tune in to the veery’s ethreal song,and wait for the fireflies to wink from the shadows. Today I further celebrated the solstice by taking a day off from gardening for a splendid little road trip with Bonnie,a long time friend and fellow gardener. We headed northeast to Cady’s Falls and Perennial Pleasures,two nurseries with very different but lovely and intriguing display gardens that provide ample evidence that even in the Zone 4,plant life comes in an astounding array of colors and textures. Neither nursery stocked much in the way of food plants,though Perennial Pleasures has a selection of interesting herb plants for sale and serves an exceedingly pleasant afternoon tea in the garden. Indulging in a day devoted just to gorgeous flowers and foliage seemed a fitting way to mark the season. Speaking of fitting, nothing expresses the sweet loveliness of a midsummer evening in the north better than this instrumental ballad by Oscar Peterson:When Summer Comes. A benediction for the end of the longest day. May your gardens be bountiful and your verdant days filled of joy.  Jumble of transplants -- basil,tomatoes,eggplants and peppers -- waiting for the right time to get planted. To plant or not to plant? That is the question. Whether it is wiser to plant now and risk the slings and arrows of outrageous weather or to wait, potentially squandering the too-short lease of summer. Such quandaries face Z4 gardeners in this,the merry,merry month of May. Last year’s warm,dry May duped many into planting their tomatoes early only to have them decimated by a rogue frost on May 31st. This year, looking out to Memorial Day weekend —the traditional safe date for planting tender vegetable crops like tomatoes,beans,squash an their ilk —the long-range forecast is for relentless sun and record-breaking heat. While frost may no longer be a consideration,other factors need to be weighed in deciding when to plant tender crops. Soil and air temperature are of course critical. Here’s a great chart that shows the practical and optimal temperatures for planting common vegetables. I’ve never used a soil thermometer but find the old fashioned guide —don’t plant beans or corn until you can sit on the ground with a bare bum —to be very useful. No,I don’t take it literally,but use my hand to test to test the soil temperature and apply the imagination to decide how a tenderer part of my anatomy would feel, and by extension whether the cold-sensitive plants would be happy. This week the soil felt cool but not cold so I went ahead and planted bean,squash and cucumbers seeds directly in the ground. Germination is likely to take about a week so even if we were have a freak frost in that period,the still-to-emerge plants will be safe underground. Moon phases can also influence the decision of when to plant – especially as promoted by those following the biodynamic gardening system. The specifics can get excruciatingly complicated and seems to add way too many factors into the “when to plant”decisions. But in general,I understand that planting seeds during the waxing moon can benefit and speed germination while transplanting during the waning moon can better help the roots get established. The influences are so subtle, I can’t say if it makes any difference in real life,but just imagining how plants and the moisture in soil might ebb and flow like the tides, makes me feel richer and more connected,so if all other factors support it,I try to plant seeds before the full moon and transplant after. The full moon falls on May 28th this year. Given that cold isn’t likely to be in the picture,the most significant factor for me in deciding when to plant this year is rain,or the lack of it. There’s no significant precipitation forecast for then next 10 days. That’s a big deal. Watering is time and/or resource intensive so I’m holding back on transplanting tomatoes,peppers and eggplants. It’s much easier and takes much less water to hydrate plants in pots than to water them in the garden. Also,guests,out-of-town trips and other activities that are likely on a long weekend often detract from gardening, so that should be a consideration as well. Transplants may suffer if they go in before Memorial Day then are neglected,as they need regular, deep watering until well-established. Seeds need regular watering too but once germinated,they seem better able to find the water they need to thrive. Having weighed all these factors, I’ve decided to direct-seed all my beans,squash,melon,cucumber,and any miscellaneous herbs and flowers like dill and calendula this weekend. But will hold off on transplanting tomatoes,peppers, eggplants and basil until the week of Memorial Day. To minimize the amount of watering necessary this week,I’ll hold back on planting corn seeds too.  May 13 before thinning Lettuce grows like crazy in May thanks to the ample daylight hours and still-cool temperatures. It’s salad heaven —the reward for planting in early spring. A delightful array of colors and textures can be achieved by seeding multiple varieties of lettuce,but it’s also fun to be able to pick lettuce from all stages of growth,from tender baby leaves to full,crunchy heads from spring through late fall and even winter. By planting often and thinning out plants for eating, home gardens can provide more variety than found in the best supermarkets. First there’s succession planting. Any time you have some free space in the garden,plant some lettuce or other greens. Plant different varieties and in different environments including shade and in sun to ensure success regardless of weather conditions. I grow lettuce on the north side of my pea trellis to give some shade in case any hot,sunny weather should happen to arrive. If it’s rainy and cool as it’s been the last two summers,lettuce will do splendidly in the open,provided the slugs don’t take over!  After first thinning Then there’s a harvest method I call progressive thinning that allows picking at every stage of growth from one planting. Here’s how it works: - Plant lettuce seeds fairly close together,directly in the ground either in rows or broadcast. If your soil is weedy,then I recommend rows just for ease of maintenance.
- When the seedlings get large enough to form clusters of leaves,thin crowded sections by cutting out whole plants. Use scissors and cut the stem below the cotyledon. This will prevent the leaves from growing back. You could also pull out the the whole plant including the roots,but I prefer cutting the stem to avoid disturbing roots of remaining plants.
- Cut off the base of the leaves since the joint between the leaves and roots can be tough and full of grit.
- When the remaining lettuce plants grow and start to crowd each other,thin again. An occasional shot of liquid fertilizer like fish/seaweed emulsion cheers on the remaining plants.
- Continue in this manner until full-sized heads form. Pick and enjoy!
 Four days later,ready for another thinning Shearing the leaves of young plants (above the cotyledon) —the cut-and-come-again method –enables repeated harvests but keeps the plants small. It’s easier at first than progressive thinning,and thus used by commercial growers,but I prefer the pleasure of watching the lettuce growing bigger by the day. You can employ progressive thinning with other greens too –Chinese cabbage,kale,chard,endive,arugula and others —though some seem less tolerant of crowding than lettuce. It’s great to end up with a nice,big,juicy romaine and remember all the crunchy,tasty salads you got to eat while that select head of lettuce continued to to grow.  Korean lilac and siberian iris blooming with the chives - late May 2009 A year ago while admiring the mid-day buzz around some profusely blooming chive blossoms in my garden I noticed that none of the pollinators were honey bees. Instead, a multi-cultural throng of pollinating insects ranging in size from the big fuzzy bumble bees to tiny and medium sized bees and wasps occupied the air space around the plants. I interpreted this to be a demonstration that there can be plenty of native pollinators who will perform the pollination necessary for our gardens and orchards if there is sufficient food and habitat available for them. Meanwhile across the road,my neighbor Tracy was installing her first bee hive. She had spent the past several months diligently studying beekeeping from books,workshops and websites and was finally beginning the new adventure. I had considered attempting bee keeping myself but ultimately couldn’t deal with what seemed an overwhelming learning curve. So when Tracy took on the challenge I was delighted to watch and cheer from the sidelines. The very next day,visiting my chive blossoms,buzzing filled the air once again,but this time it was all honey bees! I don’t know where the wild pollinators went,but presumably they returned to the native plants that they are adapted for. The flowering plants in our gardens originate from far flung corners of the earth but my yard also offers not-so-tidy,weedy edges around the clearing that hopefully provide plenty of food for the full range of pollinators,wild and domestic.  Honey bees of course are greatly beloved by us humans for their production of copious amounts of honey. So I was thrilled when Tracy gave me a pint of honey from her first “crop”last week. Having witnessed her bees in my garden, it was a treat to taste the fruit of their labors,bringing to mind all the flowers of spring,summer and fall, combined in one sweet concentrated spoonful.
Tracy’s honey and the annual flush of wild violets in one of our weedy edges,inspired me to make a batch of v iolet syrup. It’s a nice addition to seltzer or other drinks if you want a delicate,sweet taste of purple blossoms. Traditional recipes involve cooking the violet blossom tea with sugar but I prefer to make it with honey and to barely cook it at all to retain as much of nutrients as possible. It’s worth considering the sugar-based approach too as it results in a clearer,prettier syrup and cooking it to concentrate the sugars,makes the product last longer,especially if lemon is added. Here’s my honey-based, low-cook violet syrup recipe: - pick as many violets as you wish;
- warm a glass/ceramic container,put violets in it and cover them with boiling water;
- cover the container and let the infusion sit for about 24 hours;
- strain off blossoms and admire gorgeous blue tea;
- heat one part violet tea with an equal part honey until the honey dissolves into the liquid;
- sterilize bottle(s),fill with the hot syrup and refrigerate after it comes to room temperature.
Keeps for several months. Savor the taste of violet blossoms with your iced tea!  Late April localvore spread. “Hey,lets go pick wild leeks and then make a localvore meal.” That welcome invitation from Karen came late last Saturday morning and by evening we had assembled a magnificent feast. The last-minute dinner party was particularly notable for how easy it was to load the table with a wide range of delicious local products–foraged,harvested from the garden,and bought at nearby markets and farm stands. Just a few years ago,assembling such a meal would have required a significant effort but thanks to the “local foods movement”and the committed businesses creating excellent products for the growing market of discriminating eaters,it no long requires a major undertaking and certainly no sacrifices in quality and deliciousness. What struck me too were all the interconnected relationships we had with the food and stories behind each item. Here’s a sampling. Morel appetizer- Eric sauted our just-picked morels and wild leeks in butter with a white wine reduction and touch of cream. Served on toasted Mad River Grain bread from Red Hen Bakery. Fiddleheads –Karen had picked a pile of them the day before because the ostrich ferns were unfurling fast in the warm temperatures. Served simply steamed so they had that crunchy,unique texture that makes them so fun to eat. Potatoes –whole baby German Butterball potatoes from Jericho Settlers Farm,roasted in the grill. They might have been the most delicious potatoes I’ve ever tasted! I stopped by the farm the next day,anxious to pick up some more and ran into Christa,the farmer, who said the potatoes had been harvested back in October and stored in a refrigerator at around 40 degrees. That kept them in almost perfect condition all the way to the end of April. Green salad –Kath brought a multi-textured assortment of overwintered greens from her unheated greenhouse,applying the season extending methods discussed in previous posts —but with greater success than me! We threw in some lightly steamed asparagus from my hoop house and dressed the salad with a quick dressing made from last year’s shallots,sunflower oil from the Rainville Farm and red wine vinegar that we’d “made”just by letting old wine sit in a jar for several months. Golden beets –picked last fall,Kath stored them in bags at the back of her refridgerator over the winter and for this meal, paraboiled,slipped the skins and dressed them with a little butter and fresh chives. The smooth texture and sweet-rich flavor complimented all the other foods. She noted that the variety,Touchstone Gold,germinates better than other golden beets —a tip I will aim to remember for next year’s seed order. Flat iron steak- Greg grilled grass fed beef from the rich Lamoille River valley at Boyden Farms just a few miles north of here. It was cooked to perfection and served with it minimal seasoning,featuring the full, natural flavor of the meat. Wild leeks –just picked within the hour,sauteed,cooking the white bulb first until it is tender and then adding the green leafy parts at the end. Such a refined flavor for a wild plant –somewhere between onions and garlic. For beverages we had Kath’s home-made grape juice from wild vines that grow near her home in Richmond and a crisp seyval blanc from the the Boyden Valley vineyard, adjacent to the farm where the beef was raised,that paired particularly well with the spring fare. Finally for dessert,Karen’s blueberry sauce made from berries picked and frozen last summer with home made ice cream. Oh,I forgot to even mention the assortment of wonderful local cheeses —but that will have to wait for another post.  The elusive black morel. Finding morels,the first gourmet wild mushroom of the season,offers a thrill above all others. As maddeningly elusive as they are delicious,they’ve been a bit of an obsession of mine for the past decade. Despite my enthusiasm and frequent forays in search of them,each spring passed,disappointingly with no morels. That is,until last spring. Scrambling up a steep slope dominated by mature ash trees on a wild leek foray with Karen and Greg, we stumbled onto morels in perfect condition,popping up through the leaf litter and moss. What a thrill to find them in real life,not just in pictures! Those lovely little mushrooms,used deliciously and judiciously, as well as dried for storage,graced many a meal over the past year. So this past weekend,not daring to hope for success again,we ventured out to the same hallowed ground,ostensibly to harvest the abundant wild leeks. And there they were, perfect little morels,just as we found them last year. What can you do but give a little whoop and and dance amongst the spring ephemerals? We picked enough to make a savory appetizer for our localvore dinner and divided the rest between our two households —enough for bragging rights but not so much to quench the desire to seek more. Before leaving that blessed place so favored by morels,I took a long,analytic look,hoping to absorb the features. At every subseqent opportunity I’ve searched and found other places that look much the same —rich soils inhabited by wild leeks and trilium,large ash trees with little intrusion from maples,a slope with some erosion and moss —but with no sign of morels.
 Wild leeks,trilium and trout lilies - the forest ephemerals of spring Hunting morels seems to require about 75% luck and 25% knowledge. Mushrooms in general,and morels in particular are peculiar creatures. The primary organism is a network of filaments underground for morels and in wood for oyster mushrooms and others of thier ilk. What we see on the surface as a mushroom, is the ingenious fruiting body,designed to deliver spores into the air. The underground portion can grow for years without fruiting if conditions don’t suit it. So even with close attention to terrain,vegetation,weather,moisture,soil type and acidity,temperature,and timing it’s tough to predict where morels might happen to live and when they might decide to fruit. But the hunt itself is good healthy fun so why not continue. Maybe I’ll get lucky this year and actually find some yellow morels. They are said fruit later,when the apple trees bloom and the oak leaves are the size of a mouse’s ear. That charming description itself,motivates me want to look for them,despite my utter lack of sucess to date. As with all foraging,be sure to consult a reliable expert or resource book before eating any wild mushroom and always cook them well. A number of websites offer advice and good photos of both the edible morels and the look-alikes you should admire but not eat.  Plum blossoms after snow stom Wet,gloppy snow started falling yesterday morning and continued through most of today. Electrical power has been out for 36 hours due to trees and branches falling on power lines. Since we have a wood stove for heat,the biggest inconvenience has been lack of water. So strangely beautiful to see the green haze of early-leafing trees through the falling snow. It never went much below freezing so I’m not concerned about cold damage to the leaves but a lot of fruit trees had just begun to bloom so we’ll see if the blossoms remain viable. The photo shows one of my plum trees after the storm,blooming too soon for it’s own good. This is an experiment to try posting directly from my iPhone,in the dark!  Salad of mixed greens from hoop house Fresh harvests of salad greens,herbs,scallions and even a few spears of asparagus have increasingly supplied our table from the unheated hoop house over the past few weeks. Spinach and lettuces planted in February and March now pump out new leaves for regular picking. Despite bolting early,the overwintered arugula and mache have still been tender enough to harvest repeatedly. Daylight hours now compare in length to late August,offering the plants more light every day. As the plants form larger leaves,they collect even more solar energy so growth takes off exponentially. If you haven’t planted any of the cool weather crops yet,don’t wait. Get them in the ground now to take advantage of the long days and good growing conditions. By now,you won’t need a hoop house or other plant protection gear to harvest from the garden. The hardiest perennial herbs and vegetables have now emerged —chives,lovage,sage,oregano, mint,multiplying onions —with new growth full of fresh flavor. If you managed to protect and overwinter the cold tolerant annual and biennial herbs like parsley,cilantro and chervil,their fresh new leaves make for good nibbling right in the garden and at the table,if you can get them there! Then come the real treats of the season —the wild spring harvests. Wild leeks (ramps) top my list of favorites. Their relatively long harvest period overlaps with fiddleheads and the elusive morels that are not quite ready around here yet,but coming soon. As with all woodland edibles, take care not to over-harvest. A little here,a little there and a lot left behind. In clearings you can find dandelion greens and the small leaves and flowers of violets that add nice color and flavor to salads. If you’re unsure of what these plants look like,here’s a foraging site that can help.  Dandelions ready to cook Nan would look out at the bright dandelions in the pasture near her home and remember fondly how her mother and grandmother would fill their aprons with the greens in spring. She spoke longingly of the how delicious they were, simmered in a big pot for hours,seasoned with salt pork. I knew Nan in her late eighties when she could no longer traverse the uneven ground outside to pick them herself,but the greens still called to her. Dandelions inspire in me,the same urge to consume. Any time I spot the distinctively jagged rosette of leaves,among the first to to emerge and growing so strongly,I want to dig and eat them. It’s as though the body craves the plant’s strength —the bitterness of the leaves,the slightly sweet complexity of the roots and all the beneficial minerals and vitamins that those deep flavors suggest. I prefer a light saute of dandelion leaves with browned onions,garlic and chili flakes to the old fashioned method of cooking the leaves to death,but there is a theory that thorough cooking is necessary to break down the cells in the leaves to make the minerals available. (Also a theory that the roots should not be over-cooked.) Whatever your approach,once you’ve developed a taste for dandelions, your spring won’t be complete without eating them. Europeans brought dandelions to the New World along with so many other medicinal and culinary herbs that have spread and become so common that our culture now considers them noxious weeds. But herbal traditions in both the East and the West regard dandelions highly,especially as a liver tonic. This concept of a tonic – a medicine that is useful,not for any specific disease or symptom but as a general enhancement to health —has been lost in the modern medical regime. Herbal texts often refer to dandelion’s ability to relieve “liver congestion,”especially after a long winter of eating heavy foods. I’m not sure what liver congestion means but it sure sounds like something I want to avoid! Among many other therapeutic uses,dandelion leaves are said to to reduce high blood pressure and the roots have been used to treat anemia, diabetes and to build strength after illness. Rosemary Gladstar noted that the medicines we need to treat our most common,everyday health concerns are found in the commonest plants growing all around us. So often the ones we work so hard to eradicate. Dandelions also have a tonic effect in the garden. The deep roots break up compacted soil and take up minerals that can be made available to garden plants. During the warmer months when dandelions are too bitter for eating,I’ll add them to my compost (removing the flowers first) or lay them on top of mulch. When weeding,if I come across a particularly handsome dandelion with large glossy leaves and a thick root,I’ll let it be so it can seed itself to improve the genetic strains of dandelion on my property. A big, juicy dandelion can be a far more valuable crop that those I planted deliberately in the garden. If you’ve haven’t developed a taste and craving for bitter flavors in spring,try dandelion greens cooked with starchy foods like risotto,pasta dishes or potatoes. They take the edge off the bitterness. A quick Google search will yield lots of yummy recipes. And for a dark herbal tea,ground and roasted dandelion roots can’t be beat (although some prefer the roots of another weedy relative,chicory). Always pick dandelions and other wild foods from clean soil,avoiding roadsides and edges of parking lots. Then savor the free food and medicine,compliments of Mother Nature.  Newest generation of foragers - Brynna with wild leeks Since late November until just last week,walks in the woods and fields have been a little dull. Animal tracking can keep the brain cells active on winter walks,but for us non-hunters and foragers,the flush of green on the forest floor stimulates a powerful and primitive excitement —an urge to ramble,smell,taste and consume the nutrition offered by the earth. From the pungent taste of the first blade of wild leeks pointing up out of the ground to the sweet pithiness of the last wizened apple,anticipation of the months ahead is marked by the progression of foods to be found on our home ground. Similarly, my mental map of the the surrounding landscape marks the places I know to find nettles,chanterelles and the best blackberries. This focus on food might be considered obsessive but I choose instead to consider it a gift from my ancestors – those from millions of pre-agricultural (and pre-human) generations who populated this planet,eating the landscape. Research I read about some time ago,found women tend to navigate the landscape with a mental map of static reference points - the giant pine with a split in the trunk,the sunlit clearing with raspberries. Men on the other hand,tend to hold a more abstract sense of space,enabling navigation while focused on a moving object. This of course would support the theory that women are more disposed to foraging and men to hunting. I don’t like to over-generalize about gender differences,since each individual has different mix of these capabilities and I believe most skills can be learned. But when I examine my way of navigating this landscape,I do indeed rely on a mental map with stored images of fixed objects. More often than not,those objects are related to places I have found food. | |
