Our 2013 Backyard Garden

We are growing some new plants this year.  I even mustered up the courage to start a few things from seed.  It's been very exciting to watch the garden mature these past few weeks.

It was a wet and chilly spring in Cincinnati so we didn't get our garden planted until late May.  The late start has only been an issue for our broccoli plants; all six of them quickly bolted when the June temperatures jumped above 80 degrees.  I haven't had the heart to yank them out of the garden yet but I am considering what I might be able to put in their place.  To the left of the broccoli, our Brussels sprouts seem to be doing fine and surviving despite the onslaught of insects chewing on their leaves.  

From seed we started bush beans, peas, and carrots!  (Beans pictured above.) I'm extremely encouraged by how well they are all doing, even with the occasional garden invasion of rabbits or squirrels.  The beans are much larger than I expected so I'm hoping that they have enough space.  We have six bean plants and they all have buds on them.

The pea plants have found their way to our makeshift trellis and starting to climb.  I do have a confession to make:  when I opened the seed package I was very surprised to find that pea seeds are...peas!  I know, I know.  Duh!  You really learn a lot about your food when you grow it. 

(Tim laughed really hard when I told him how surprised I was discovering the peas.  I'm glad I can be of some amusement to him!)

We are growing only one lonely tomato.   I doubt very many of these little guys will make it to our kitchen--Tim eats them right off the plant. 

Because of our limited space (the fence around the perimeter is mostly to keep our dogs out of the garden but also rabbits), we are attempting to grow our cucumbers vertically.  This experiment is doing fine so far as the little climbing tendrils are finding their way up our tomato cage.  I'm not sure what will happen when the fruit begins to develop.  This will definitely be a learning experience. 



My potted herbs are growing like weeds for the third year straight.  I've harvested huge handfuls of chives, oregano (oh, so much oregano), thyme, and rosemary.  I have some sparse parsley, a healthy start to my dill, and my basil just didn't make it.  If anyone has ideas on what to do with thyme and oregano, please share them with me.  I have these two herbs in overwhelming excess! 

And if you are a beginner gardener looking for a way to get started, I suggest going with a few herbs in pots of nutrient rich soil.  Rosemary is incredibly hearty and thyme seems to be infallible.  You will gain a lot of confidence and work your way up to vegetables.  (Fresh herbs also make great hostess gifts!)

Want to read some more gardening blogs?  Here are a few blogs I enjoy that post about gardening (and other things):

One Hundred Dollars a Month

Simple Bites

BGGarden.com (an Ohio blogger and gardener!)

Harmonious Homestead (another Ohio blogger and one of my favorites to follow on the web)

How is your garden growing this summer?  And do you have any favorite gardening blogs to share with me?

Around Here (and a bit of news!)

Oh, hello there.  I've missed you.  Lots of time has gone by, I know, and I hope you know I've been thinking about you.  There have been lots of changes since the spring.  I know it's how the world works, and life will always shift and slide, this way and that, but sometimes it still takes me a while to process these changes.

I wasn't as enthusiastic about planting our vegetable garden this year as I was in years past.  I can't really explain why, but I think some of the disappointments and struggles we had last year with squash bugs and a few under performing tomato plants wore me down.  I don't know if it was luck or strong seedlings or the warm weather but our garden is really thriving this year.  We have a Black Prince heirloom tomato potted in a trash can on our patio that is finally beginning to ripen, as well as four other varieties of tomatoes in the garden bed.

The only things we've had a chance to taste were a few of the cherry tomatoes.  Tim popped them into his mouth straight out of the garden and proclaimed them the best cherry tomatoes he's ever tasted.

The tomato I'm most looking forward to is our heirloom Oxheart.  I chose this varietal because my grandmother, who passed away recently, told me her grandfather used to grow them, and she remembers eating them when she was a child.  A bulky, slicing tomato much like a beefsteak, this fruit starts in a shape similar to a strawberry until it fills out to an oblong fruit.  Every time I walk out to the garden and look at this plant, I think of her and how even though she's gone, we are going to be sharing an experience.  It means a lot to me.

Things are changing in our home and family as well.  It's largely the reason I've been absent from this blog for a few months.  I couldn't bear to cook anything with a strong  flavor, heavy aroma, or strange texture from March through June.  You can probably guess what was the culprit.  

Our little Nugget will be coming into the world in the fall, and I'm just starting to wrap my head around the idea of a baby (a baby!) being a part of our family.  Every time I feel the baby move inside my belly I can't believe how different things will be.  Tim and I have just recently started to prepare our house to make room for this little being which is starting to make the whole thing seem real.  Every time I walk past the office--err, the nursery--and see the crib sitting in there, I am reminded that we are bringing a new life to the universe.  It's equally strange and amazing.  


I have been back in the kitchen recently, though I can't say I'm particularly adventurous.  I've made some incredible buttermilk biscuits, Tim's favorite mint brownies, and an easy pork roast.  I know Tim is thankful that I've taken over some of the cooking responsibilities, and we have reduced the amount of take-out in our lives.  I will try not to disappear on you again, and I hope you will let me know what you've been up to lately as well.  


Oh, and not quite an announcement as much as a disclaimer:  we have had a bit of technology drama in our house and the computer that I was editing my digital photos on has given up on us.  Until we bite the bullet and buy a new computer, I will probably be posting photos from Instagram.  I am, however, excited to be attending a digital photography workshop next week and do hope to continue to work on my pictures for the site.  

Past Their Prime

Around three o'clock this afternoon I looked out the window and a dreary rain-shower had upgraded to a damp snowfall.  Of course, this is only an upgrade for those who have been disappointed by the muddy, mild weather we've had so far this winter.  I normally behave like a shut-in come January, but I think the weather has me out of my norm.  I'm tackling my new year's goals with gusto, brainstorming new ideas for this website, gearing up to attend local blogging events, and even feeling confident at my day job. 

I guess winter has finally settled in but I don't plan on slowing down.  I've even been thinking about spring gardening again.  One of the perks of living way out here in the suburbs is that we have so much space for things to grow.  Some things like leafy greens can be started as soon as April--that's only a few months away!

Our potted herb garden was extremely rewarding this year.  Whenever I needed a handful of chives to add to a sauce or to finish a salad, I walked out to the patio with the kitchen shears.   That incredibly easy oregano pesto?  Trimmed from our backyard plant.  There was also parsley for adding to homemade stock, dill for homemade pickles, and, my favorite, thyme bouquets stuffed into whole roast chicken. 

Except for the rosemary, though its time will soon be over too, the rest of the herbs are past their prime.  Some will come back next year and some won't.  Come February, when the ground is frozen and the air visibly holds my breath, I will chop down the thick stems of what's left to allow for new growth this spring.  I have a feeling that the time will fly by between now and then, don't you?

Did you grow anything wonderful this year?  Any gardening resolutions or goals for 2012?

A Short Season

We've spent some time the past few weeks readying the yard and garden bed for winter.  Melissa and I pulled most of the remaining vegetable plants using a combination of hedge trimmers and brute force.  Tim opted to wait until most of the leaves dropped from the trees (save a few hangers on) and mow over them rather than rake them in piles.  It seems to have been the right decision because when he finished I could hardly believe how all of the leaves were gone.  It felt like the end of fall.  It's such a short season, isn't it?

My potted oregano plant had an unexpected growth spurt during the month of November.  I took my kitchen shears to it and ended up with a huge bowl of clippings.  After washing and drying them, I wrapped two small handfuls in paper towels and put them into the refrigerator.  I'm hoping for some oregano inspiration this week to use those up.  I considered drying the rest but settled on making a batch of oregano pesto; Heidi's post last week about making some had been stuck in my head since I read it. 

It was easy enough to throw together; picking the leaves from the woody stems was the most tedious part of the process.  The sun had long gone down by the time I got around to tossing all of the ingredients into the food processor so I didn't get a picture of the pre-frozen product.  But this pesto, when freshly made, is the color of a Christmas tree.  It was deep green and studded with little bits of garlic and pine nuts.  The flavor is fresh and bright from the parsley but the hints of oregano gave it a warm, wintry flavor.  It could possibly be my favorite pesto ever. 

I froze the pesto in an empty ice cube tray and then combined the frozen cubes in a labeled zip lock bag.  It made about 12 ice cubes which really is quite a bit when you think about how much flavor just a tablespoon of pesto can pack.  What will I do with all of this pesto?  When thawed, I figure I can spread it on bread as a condiment for sandwiches.  I can drizzle it over a pasta with bright tomato sauce for extra herby flavor.  I can spoon it over grilled meats or vegetables.  I think it might even be good on a baked potato.

Oregano Pesto
adapted from 101 cookbooks
makes about 1 cup of pesto

1.5 cups of loosely packed fresh oregano
1.5 cups of loosely packed fresh parsley
2-3 garlic cloves, peeled
1/2 cup of toasted pine nuts, cooled
3/4 to 1 cup of extra virgin olive oil
kosher salt to taste

Add the oregano, parsley, garlic, and pine nuts to a food processor.  Pulse a few times to slightly chop.  Then pour in the olive oil, starting with just 3/4 cup, and process, adding more olive oil if needed to reach your desired consistency.  There should be some texture, but the pesto should be a fine sauce.  Add salt, starting with 1/2 teaspoon, and adjust to taste. 

Pesto can be stored in the refrigerator in a sealed container for 3-4 days or frozen for several months.

End of the Season

It seems that vegetable gardening has come mostly to a close for me.  We got so much cold rain during the month of September that most of our heirloom tomatoes split open on the vine, suddenly more vulnerable to bacteria and insects.  An odd thing happened simultaneously--a surge of new growth on the broccoli, red cabbage, and grape tomatoes has resulted in a last ditch effort to make something happen.

I don't want to scare them off--because I'm thankful for everything they've given me this summer--but someone needs to tell them when to call it quits.  There isn't enough time for the delicate little tomatoes to grow and ripen.  Frost seems to always be hiding just behind the next weather front so I'm not counting on anything to harvest.  Fortunately the broccoli and cabbage are better suited for the weather and might keep growing for a while. 

In a moment where I was looking the other direction, the central stalk of our broccoli plant shot up and flowered--just like that.  From the window, I noticed the beautiful yellow blossoms.  Immediately I put down whatever I was doing and wandered outside to look.  Never would I have known that a broccoli was such a beautiful plant.  These are things you just can't learn from shopping at the grocery. 

It's kind of amazing, isn't it?  Things living and changing in your own back yard?  That's gardening, for ya.
 

Just Picked: Broccoli

In just one week the head of broccoli went from being flat and buried at the center of the stalk to rising out of the middle and actually looking like broccoli.  Yesterday Tim was checking out the plants and said, "I  think this broccoli is going to bloom if we don't pick it." 

Pick it?  It was already time to pick it?  It seemed too early--I guess I assumed broccoli was more of a fall vegetable.  But he was right; Tim got a serated knife and sliced the head off at its base, leaving behind a large broccoli plant that we're not sure what to do with.  Do we leave it there?  Will it keep growing?  Produce more broccoli?  We have no clue.

Tim was in charge of dinner last night and he wanted to keep it simple: seared tuna steak, white rice, and steamed broccoli.  If you can imagine, the broccoli was the strongest broccoli-flavored broccoli I've ever tasted.  It was worth the wait it took to grow it.

Garden Update: 6 Weeks

It's not July-hot around here.  No sir, it's August-hot.  The steamy kind of hot where you start to perspire before you walk more than a few feet outdoors.  These are the type of days where Tim and I look at one another and ask, "How did we live in that townhouse without air conditioning?"

Because we were newlyweds.  In love.  It had a backyard.  And I was going to grow things. 

In reality, the backyard of that townhouse was barely 15 ft x 15 ft and was mostly shaded mud, but I tried anyway.  I hung one of those upside-down tomato plants in the one spot wayovertooneside where I thought it just might get enough sun.  It didn't really grow and I was disappointed. 

During that first year of marriage we added two little (and rambunctious) dogs to our family, and they needed more space, too.  We looked around in the city, but there wasn't anything that fit all of our needs--central air, a big yard with a fence, a couple of bedrooms, and a garage or basement for storage.  As a semi-last resort, we looked in the suburbs and found a place that met all of those requirements. 

The dogs like it--there is plenty of room inside and out for them to run, explore, and wrestle.  It's very quiet here, which is so different than anywhere I lived in the city.  There is a calm in the neighborhood that I can only attribute to people putting down roots.  It makes me feel calm, too, and I like it. 

The biggest perk, of course, is the vegetable garden.  Especially when it's this hot--August-hot--we just walk outside and turn on the hose, neither of us minding if the spray gets caught in the wind and blows back on us.

I know it seems like I just bragged about how much things where growing in the garden, but I'm still surprised every day at the progress of the plants.  The Mr. Stripey heirloom tomato is a monster of a bush, towering over our other plants and continuing to reach upwards.  And the White Wonder tomato plant has been officially nursed back to health and even has new blooms.  The Early Girl tomato plant that we have been growing in a pot on our patio has already given us four ripe tomatoes with many more green tomatoes maturing. 

Tim picked an eggplant today that was getting so big and heavy that the plant was tipping to the side.  I'm not exactly sure what to with just one.  Grill it?  Fry it?  Parmesan it?  Suggestions are appreciated.

As for the pumpkins, we have two that have really started to take off, going from the size of a softball to the size of a large melon in less than a week.  I can't find any information specifically about "compact pumpkins" online so hopefully I will intuitively know when they are full grown. 

How about you, reader? How is your garden coming along? 

If I Hadn't Looked Closely

Nestled at the base of the biggest leaves is the beginning of our first head of broccoli.

If you've ever wondered why it's called an "egg"-plant, all you have to do is look at that picture. 

And if you're perplexed at why the British call an eggplant an "aubergine," then the deep purple hue of this varietal should clear that up. 

Sometimes you have to look twice to see the changes.  We didn't even notice these Thai hot peppers until Tim realized the peppers were growing unexpectedly upwards.

The butternut squash is, or perhaps more correctly we are, dealing with Blossom End Rot.  It could be our fault from overwatering.  Or maybe now we are underwatering.  Or it could be that there isn't enough calcium in the soil--it's hard to say.  No matter how many times I ask the squash to tell me what they need, I'll never get an answer.  So we do our best, and celebrate when a squash gets as large as this one and remains healthy. 

Every day there is something new to see on our "compact" pumpkin--freshly opened blossoms, baby-sized pumpkins, and gigantic new leaves.  There is absolutely nothing compact about this plant (it's 3 times the size it was in my last garden update); I'm not sure why it was given this name.

And we were about to give up on this grape tomato plant a few weeks ago, but now there are a dozen or so tiny fruit starting to mature.  If I hadn't looked closely--very, very closely--I might have missed it.

It Only Took Four Years

Now that we've had a break from the rain, things are really starting to happen.

I didn't really understand before that a vegetable garden needs a balance of water and time to dry out.  Our plants were soaked--first by us with our best intentions and then by sequential days of dripping skies. When the leaves of our grape tomato plant began to curl and slightly brown, I started to worry. I even called my mom, hoping her infinite gardening wisdom may be able to salvage any damage we were causing. Sensing my stress, she suggested we go to a local garden center with a trimming of the affected tomato plant and ask them.

The very kind woman at Marvin's Organic Gardens took one look at our leaves and said, "It could be sick but it's more likely you're overwatering."  Oh. We walked back to our car, slightly embarrassed.  Its true. We knew it.  And helplessly we watched it rain for the next several days without much break. 

Finally there is a clear blue sky over my head. I'm typing this on our patio because it's too beautiful to be indoors. Or daisies, a gift dug up from a friend of a friend of a friend's yard (gifting plants is how gardeners say hello to each other), have finally unfurled its white petals to show its yellow faces.

Many of the plants are growing so quickly that they are escaping the cedar box and making their way into the yard.  There are a few new tiny butternut squash on the vine that are getting a little larger each day.  I'm already thinking about butternut squash risotto.

Perhaps the sweetest thing growing is the watermelon, which seems to be thriving and finally has a little mini fruit.   It appears to be getting slightly bigger every day, starting out the size of a dime and now almost as large as a half dollar. It feels especially good to see this plant thrive since I so wanted to grow one last summer.

And the "Tasty Slicer" cucumber is looking better, too. It has had mini cucumbers on it for a week or two now but they seemed premature and unlikely to progress. And yet this morning, when i pulshed aside the leaves to examine the fruit, a few were noticeably greener and bigger. It's a very good indication that the garden is recovering from the drenching.

The almost-red tomatoes are now a deep, orangey-red and sitting on the kitchen table.  Tim high-fived me last night when I picked them. He was practically reading my mind when he said, "It only took four years, but now we can say we grew something." 

Garden Update: 3 Weeks

Nearly every day when Tim gets home from work he walks in the front door, gives me a kiss, and then heads straight through the house, out the back door.  He leans over the pumpkin plant and looks closely, turning to me to ask, "Does this leaf look bigger today?"  I always say yes, because I've already inspected each plant two or three times. 

I'm learning new things, too.  The stalk of the tomato plant smells like tomatoes.  The flowers on the white eggplant are purple.  The leaves of the cucumber and the butternut squash plants look very similar, and if they weren't side by side in the garden I'm not sure I could tell them apart. The broccoli leaves are so waxy that raindrops puddle and then roll right off. 

I've also learned that not every plant will thrive, no matter how much we want it to.  A few days ago, Tim yanked a stunted tomato plant out of the garden to make more room for the vines of the butternut squash.  And we've held out hope (perhaps too long) for a bell pepper plant that is failing to thrive.  It's hard to say why its not growing--maybe it's been overwatered or underwatered or it perhaps it is just an unhealthy plant.  If there is no improvement over the next week, this pepper will likely be discarded to give more room to the others. 

It is more difficult than it should be to let go of that hope. 

 

Red

Well...almost.

We Dug a Hole

We made a decision.  It was not without some serious consideration, though.  In fact, Tim was ready to jump and I made him keep his feet on the ground for a few days while I mulled it over.  I had to be sure that it was the right choice.

We dug a hole.  In our backyard.  We notified the community garden coordinators that we would not be participating this year and we dug a hole.  When you dig a hole--in your backyard--it's semi-permanent.  You can plant grass seed there, but it will take a long while for it blend in, and until that happens there will be a reminder that you dug a hole.

As I said, this was all Tim's idea.  A very good idea, I admit.  He knows that I truly enjoy gardening and fussing over our plants so he suggested that instead of commuting back and forth to the community garden, why don't we just plant here?  I didn't have any major objections except natural hesitation about digging up the healthy grass.  The purpose, it seems, of many community gardens is a place to plant for those who don't have the space to do it at home.  And while we completely appreciate the opportunity Mason was offering us, I couldn't deny that it would be easier to care for and water our plants at home.

I attempted to assist as Tim assembled the cedar box, but I'm not much help when it comes to power tools.  The dogs seemed to think we were building a playground for them, jumping in and out of the boxes and sniffing the perimeter. 

The really hard work was digging the hole--which, thankfully, Tim handled.  I brought him iced tea, distracted the dogs (somewhat unsuccessfully), and cheered him on from the patio.  After the hole was complete, we filled it with really great soil.  We mixed together humus and top soil to create the ideal garden bed for our plants. 

Because our garden was facing east-to-west, we needed to arrange taller plants (like tomatoes) towards the northwestern side of the boxes and the shorter plants (like cabbage) to the south-eastern side of the boxes. Next we laid down a recycled fabric that will will prevent weeds from being able to grow around the plants.  Then we mulched around the plants to maximize the moisture retention of the soil and reinforce the weed prevention.

We ended up planting a handful of tomatoes, a few different types of peppers, two eggplants, two cucumbers (at Melissa's request), a butternut squash, a watermelon, a broccoli, a red cabbage, and a pumpkin (that already has big blossoms).  Yes, it's ambitious, but I'm excited.

I have a good feeling about the garden this year.  I can't think of what we else we could have done to set ourselves up for a better harvest, and I'm proud of us for trying again after a disappointing experience last summer.  Overall, I'm optimistic that we are going to have a great summer filled with canning, freezing, drying, and consuming what we grow. 

The Gardening Virus

Tim got an email this morning that the Community Garden opening has been postponed because the ground is so wet. I'm disappointed that we will have to wait, but I know that we have been fortunate to not have any additional negative repercussions from the rain than this.

I know that the inclement weather has caused damage through storms and flooding to many around the US, and they are in my thoughts.  I also know that the rain has caused delays for many farmers to plant, particularly corn, and may cause the price of food to go up.  We will go through this together, in some form or another, no matter where we live.  But those affected have been on my mind quite a bit lately, and I thought it important to say.

On the non-rainy days, I have really, really been enjoying working on our landscaping around the house.  For Easter, rather than a basket of candy, my mother gifted us a few vibrantly green "guacamole" hostas to plant in our shady front yard.  I also planted a duo of purple tulips which thrived from the spring rains.  From there, it was as if I'd caught the gardening virus:  I can't shake the desire to plant. 

When we went shopping for mulch, Melissa and I couldn't stay away from the vegetable plants.  While Tim stacked bags of mulch onto a flat cart, Melissa selected a skinny tomato plant whose tag boasted "lovely, juicy slicing tomatoes."  Now in addition to our herbs, our back patio is the home of our "back-up tomato," a tomato-insurance, if you will, in case our plot at the community garden fairs poorly again. 

Then on Mother's Day, I arrived at my parent's house with fresh cut flowers for my mom.  I spent a sunny afternoon with her outside; Mom carried a shovel and I carried an assortment of grocery bags, following her around like a lady in waiting, while she dug up a flower here or an herb there for me to re-plant in my own garden.  I left her house with four bags of plants, three little corms (to indulge my mother's--and now my own--dream of growing a flowering tropical plant), and an assortment of clay pots that were leftover after she had finished her spring planting.  As I drove back home, I thought about how today was supposed to be about me giving to her--but my mom always finds a way to give me more than I could ever offer.

I spent the next few evenings after work planting what she gave me--a couple of plants that have an electric blue flower resembling a dandelion, another flowering plant that she warned me will spread like a weed if given the chance, a fragrant low-to-the-ground plant that is soft when I run my hands over the top of it's leaves, and a few more.  I planned out where they might get the most sun and what might compliment its neighboring plants if in the same area.  I also tried to create what I'd like to call a "corm nursery" for the little bulb-like balls, planting them in thick, clay pots with good drainage and excellent potting soil, making sure they get lots of warm afternoon sun, but not too much, to try to mimic the tropical environment.  It's still a bit of a mystery to me what exactly I will get from the corms--what plant it is and how many years it may take to flower--but this gardening virus has me unable to say no to anything.

I have been so busy working in our yard that I haven't even thought about planning out our community garden plot.  My sister is growing a variety of peppers so we may skip those altogether in the spirit of hopefully exchanging excess produce with her after we begin to harvest.  I've considered some eggplant and maybe another go at melon, but I need to start doing some research.  Any suggestions on a good website or magazine to check out?

I will keep you, my readers, in the loop as to how things progress with the garden, but I'd like to hear about your gardening, too.  Please feel free to post a link to your blog or send me an email if you'd like to discuss garden tips and strategies. I really enjoy hearing from you and cheering you on, too.

Hand in Hand

We ate dinner on our patio last night.  It was a very peaceful evening with only the brrzzzz of a distant lawnmower and some cling-clings of the neighbors wind-chime.  I always find myself staring into the yard at our big weeping willow tree.  Isn't it funny how the big strong branches grow up and out but the thin, pale branches droop downward, nearly touching the ground--but not quite?  How do those swinging tendrils know that they should stop growing at just the right distance from the grass?  Nature really astounds me sometimes. 

After we ate, we worked on our little herb garden.  The chives and thyme returned this year but the rest weren't so hearty.  We purchased a few at Natorp's Garden Store last week to replace what we lost.  As Tim and I dug little holes in the potting soil and slipped the plants into their new homes, I found myself thinking of ways I can use each one.  A bundle of thyme in a roast chicken; a handful of cilantro in salsa; some fresh oregano in a homemade tomato sauce. 

Is it weird that basil is my least favorite herb?  In general, I'd rather have parsley or a leafy green like spinach than basil.  But I'm sure there will be the occasional margherita pizza or pesto on the weekly menu and I'll be thankful that basil is available. 

 

It's the chives that really perplex me.  What do I do with all of them?  I whisk them into vinaigrettes, chop them into salads, sprinkle them on potatoes, and mix them with cottage cheese.  Do any of you, my readers, have a great idea for using up a good bunch of chives?  I'm open to suggestions. 

And,  I know it's been a while but I'm nearly finished with my post on food podcasts.  I hope to have that for you by the end of the week.  It's been a great pleasure doing research during my sometimes very long commutes so I thank you for your patience and I hope you will enjoy them as much as I do. 

Until then, I'm looking forward to more happy planting and happy eating.   For us, they go hand in hand.