We generally have a whole bed dedicated to peppers, another to tomatoes, another to alliums, another to squash, and then, finally, a collection of smaller spots for everything else. This post is about the Everything Else crops.
The herbs have done well this year. Chives and sage and oregano and thyme and rosemary and dill. Most are past their peak now, although the sage tends to get a second growth spurt after its blossom cycle is completed. The dill (self-seeded true, unlike the squash!) has been abundant.
The basil went in late (due to the rainy, cold spring), but the July heat spurred some good growth. A friend had a lot of trouble with bug damage to his basil this year, and we had some while the seedlings were on the deck, waiting to go to the garden, so we ended up with fewer plants than usual.
The lettuce (green simpson and red sails) has been thriving in planters on my co-gardener's deck, even through the extended July heat wave. We're planning to do more lettuce (and tatsoi) planters on my deck next year, although mine gets less sun than hers does, which might actually be good for the lettuce, in terms of providing some shade during the hottest weather.
The beans only went into the ground recently. Whatever was eating the bssil seedlings also did some serious damage to the first batch of bean plants direct-seeded in the garden, and then to the replacement seedlings in peat pots on the deck. The potted seedlings have recovered (unlike the ones in the garden), and are now settling into a corner of what was the allium bed.
One more, that I almost forgot, because it's tucked into hidden areas of the garden and yard: swiss chard (the Bright Lights variety). It went in late, most of it is in relatively shady spots, and some of it is in a container that we tend to forget exists. We have probably a dozen plants, half in the garden and half in the container. They always seem to grow slowly until late August, when they're gorgeous.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Hybrid surprises
No butternut squash this year, and that's my favorite squash. I was grieving until it dawned on me that it was actually possible to buy buttnernut squash at the grocery store or, even better, at the farmer's market. I never think of it as something to buy, just as something to grow.
The reason there's no butternut this year is that I'd forgotten about squash's proclivity to hybridize. We grew four varieties last year: butternut, spaghetti, yellow and zucchini. This spring, I threw the seeds of the last remaining butternut and spaghetti (which were no longer edible) in two different patches of the garden, and expected to get butternut and spaghetti plants. I've usually had pretty good luck throwing old butternuts into the compost heap and getting volunteer butternut plants.
Not this year. Instead, we have two patches of plants, each of which is a different hybrid of winter and summer squashes. I think we'll find at the end of the season that some of them are spaghetti squashes, and some are pretty obviously summer squashs, but I'm not seeing anything with the distinctive shape of a butternut.
Fortunately, we planted some of the yellow squash from commercial seeds, and they're growing true. We also have one zucchini plant, again from commercial seeds. We grew just one zuke intentionally this year; I'm finally -- after 50 years! -- learning my lesson about zucchini, since all I want is enough to make a single annual batch of zucchini bread or muffins.
The reason there's no butternut this year is that I'd forgotten about squash's proclivity to hybridize. We grew four varieties last year: butternut, spaghetti, yellow and zucchini. This spring, I threw the seeds of the last remaining butternut and spaghetti (which were no longer edible) in two different patches of the garden, and expected to get butternut and spaghetti plants. I've usually had pretty good luck throwing old butternuts into the compost heap and getting volunteer butternut plants.
Not this year. Instead, we have two patches of plants, each of which is a different hybrid of winter and summer squashes. I think we'll find at the end of the season that some of them are spaghetti squashes, and some are pretty obviously summer squashs, but I'm not seeing anything with the distinctive shape of a butternut.
Fortunately, we planted some of the yellow squash from commercial seeds, and they're growing true. We also have one zucchini plant, again from commercial seeds. We grew just one zuke intentionally this year; I'm finally -- after 50 years! -- learning my lesson about zucchini, since all I want is enough to make a single annual batch of zucchini bread or muffins.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Onions
I'm a writer, and whenever I go to workshops on storytelling, someone is bound to talk about peeling back the layers of an onion to get at the core of a character or a story. It makes me crazy every time they say it.
Admittedly, I'm metaphor-impaired, but I know my onions. And if you peel back all the layers of the onion -- there's nothing left!
The onions this year are, on average, a little smaller than last year. Or maybe it's just that there's a wider range of sizes, from substantial to puny.
There are a number of likely explanations. Last year was overwhelmingly rainy, including during the critical phase when the onions are storing up all their energy in the bulb. This year, the rain was good EXCEPT during that critical couple of weeks. Also, the onion bed this year has had less compost added to it than last year's bed, some of it is in a more shady spot, and we did a LOT less weeding this year. All together, it makes me marvel that we got any crop at all.
Admittedly, I'm metaphor-impaired, but I know my onions. And if you peel back all the layers of the onion -- there's nothing left!
The onions this year are, on average, a little smaller than last year. Or maybe it's just that there's a wider range of sizes, from substantial to puny.
There are a number of likely explanations. Last year was overwhelmingly rainy, including during the critical phase when the onions are storing up all their energy in the bulb. This year, the rain was good EXCEPT during that critical couple of weeks. Also, the onion bed this year has had less compost added to it than last year's bed, some of it is in a more shady spot, and we did a LOT less weeding this year. All together, it makes me marvel that we got any crop at all.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Pepper season
We've picked about fifty banana peppers so far, and pickled just a fraction of them, about 1 1/2 quarts. Most are being eaten raw. They really are excellent, and they tend to ripen a couple weeks before the Ace peppers hit full size.
The Aces have set quite heavily, and the plants are falling over. Usually, I stick cages around them, but of course I had to skip it this year, when it looks like we're going to have a record-breakingly heavy crop. We've picked several, but not enough to get the plants to stand on their own (more than two) roots again.
This is the first year in quite a while that we've planted hot peppers. Habanero. Which I didn't realize were among the hottest of the hot when we bought the plants. We're growing them for our co-gardener's husband. I hope he's ready for the deluge -- no one else I know eats them, so he's on his own with what looks to be a substantial crop. We don't always get the really hot weather that peppers prefer, but that hasn't been a problem, at least during the last month or so.
The Aces have set quite heavily, and the plants are falling over. Usually, I stick cages around them, but of course I had to skip it this year, when it looks like we're going to have a record-breakingly heavy crop. We've picked several, but not enough to get the plants to stand on their own (more than two) roots again.
This is the first year in quite a while that we've planted hot peppers. Habanero. Which I didn't realize were among the hottest of the hot when we bought the plants. We're growing them for our co-gardener's husband. I hope he's ready for the deluge -- no one else I know eats them, so he's on his own with what looks to be a substantial crop. We don't always get the really hot weather that peppers prefer, but that hasn't been a problem, at least during the last month or so.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Garlic experiments
We experimented on the garlic in a dozen different ways this year.
First, there was the new-to-us variety that succumbed to cold/wet weather, an wasn't early enough or prolific enough to justify the space it took.
Second, we've always had trouble waiting long enough for the garlic heads to finish growing, but this year we waited a little too long. The ones we harvested in the first half of the month, before I was out of town, were at their peak, and the ones we harvested the 20th to today were somewhat over-mature, with their wrappers disintegrating. On the plus side, the bulbils on the top of the scapes were fully mature and easy to remove and save for eating and/or future planting.
Another experiement in the works: Pickled garlic. It's basically just peeled garlic cloves soaking in vinegar with a small amount of salt and sugar, left to mellow for thirty days. The first batch will be ready on July 28. I've also made a batch using just the bubils from the top of the scape, on the theory that they might be interesting on top of a cracker, perhaps with cheese in between. Sort of like caviar made out of garlic bulbils.
Still to come this year (if we like the first batch): picked garlic with a hint of habanero pepper, for those who like hotter stuff.
The experiment for next year is to test what I think is largely a myth among garlic growers. I've read in a number of places that removing the scapes will result in a bulb that's substantially larger than if the scape and it's bulbil head are left to mature. My theory is that there might be a small difference -- enough to matter to a commercial grower seeking top dollar for his crop -- but not enough to give up the secondary crop of the bulbils or to justify the extra work of clipping the scapes. So, we're planning to play two rows of six cloves, preferably taken from idential heads (or as close as possible in size and vigor) in close proximity to each othe, and then clip the scapes of one of the rows and not the other. Harvest them all at the ideal time (how can we tell if they're ready without the scape to judge by?), and then weigh them.
First, there was the new-to-us variety that succumbed to cold/wet weather, an wasn't early enough or prolific enough to justify the space it took.
Second, we've always had trouble waiting long enough for the garlic heads to finish growing, but this year we waited a little too long. The ones we harvested in the first half of the month, before I was out of town, were at their peak, and the ones we harvested the 20th to today were somewhat over-mature, with their wrappers disintegrating. On the plus side, the bulbils on the top of the scapes were fully mature and easy to remove and save for eating and/or future planting.
Another experiement in the works: Pickled garlic. It's basically just peeled garlic cloves soaking in vinegar with a small amount of salt and sugar, left to mellow for thirty days. The first batch will be ready on July 28. I've also made a batch using just the bubils from the top of the scape, on the theory that they might be interesting on top of a cracker, perhaps with cheese in between. Sort of like caviar made out of garlic bulbils.
Still to come this year (if we like the first batch): picked garlic with a hint of habanero pepper, for those who like hotter stuff.
The experiment for next year is to test what I think is largely a myth among garlic growers. I've read in a number of places that removing the scapes will result in a bulb that's substantially larger than if the scape and it's bulbil head are left to mature. My theory is that there might be a small difference -- enough to matter to a commercial grower seeking top dollar for his crop -- but not enough to give up the secondary crop of the bulbils or to justify the extra work of clipping the scapes. So, we're planning to play two rows of six cloves, preferably taken from idential heads (or as close as possible in size and vigor) in close proximity to each othe, and then clip the scapes of one of the rows and not the other. Harvest them all at the ideal time (how can we tell if they're ready without the scape to judge by?), and then weigh them.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Wild turkeys
We have wild turkeys in the neighborhood -- three adults and a dozen or more chicks.
After checking out my deck (where my cats were fascinated by them), they wandered into the backyard to check out my car and the recovery garden.
Monday, June 14, 2010
First garlic
I'm having computer issues, so no picture, but we harvested the first few garlic heads a few days ago.
They were the new variety, which I'd begun to think wasn't actually going to be any earlier than the regular variety (even though we chose it specifically to be early). But it really is earlier than our regular variety.
I hadn't meant to harvest them -- the scapes are still growing, suggesting that the heads are still forming -- but inadvertently pulled one while weeding, and was surprised to find it fully formed. I pulled another one on purpose, to make sure the first one wasn't a fluke.
I'm still not sure I'd bother to plant this variety again. It's earlier by a few weeks, but it's also smaller and doesn't seem as winter-hardy or generally prolific.
They were the new variety, which I'd begun to think wasn't actually going to be any earlier than the regular variety (even though we chose it specifically to be early). But it really is earlier than our regular variety.
I hadn't meant to harvest them -- the scapes are still growing, suggesting that the heads are still forming -- but inadvertently pulled one while weeding, and was surprised to find it fully formed. I pulled another one on purpose, to make sure the first one wasn't a fluke.
I'm still not sure I'd bother to plant this variety again. It's earlier by a few weeks, but it's also smaller and doesn't seem as winter-hardy or generally prolific.
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