Housebound after a 2 foot snowfall, I took some time today to make a spring planting schedule. It took a literal "snowed in" status to get me to sit down and finally do this. Each year, for the last six years, I've consulted books and websites to determine planting dates for specific food crops. I typically jotted down a smattering of "to-dos" on my wall calendar, but I never wrote up a complete schedule specifically for all my desired crops and their planting dates for an entire season. It takes a blizzard to get me this organized.
Here is my food garden planting schedule for spring. It is based on an average last frost date of April 15 in USDA Zone 7.
I came up with this plan after consulting the following information sources:
It's a perfect January day today -- snowy and cold! I am sitting inside by the window, thoroughly entertained by the 10 cardinals and other various birds clamoring for the feeders out back.
With a view of the garden beds nestled in snow, I'm at the computer punching in my order for this year's new selection of seeds. My list includes:
- Fava beans
- 'Blue Lake' bush beans
- 'Detroit Dark Red' beets
- 'Vates' kale
- Mizuna
- Chervil
- Leeks
- 'Jericho' lettuce
- 'Oakleaf' lettuce
- Parsnips
- 'Wando' peas
- Salsify
- Brussels sprouts
- 'White Icicle' radishes
- Sweet banana peppers
A quick check of my seed stash confirms that I have plenty of tomato, eggplant, squash, and other pepper seeds left over from last year. At some point, I'll want to order potatoes. I haven't grown potatoes since my community garden days, and I'd like to bring them back into the mix this year. I have my eye on 'Rose Finn Apple' or 'Russian Banana' fingerlings, but really, it could be any variety. There is no potato I don't love.
Coming up in February: I'll be firing up the grow lights. Time to get the leek seeds started!
Here's a look at the latest treats from our garden. The first peppers are coming in now, and we've been trying to keep up with a bumper crop of heirloom tomatoes. I know, what a problem to have, right?
We planted four varieties of tomatoes this year: 'Cherokee Purple,' 'Green Zebra,' 'San Marzano,' and 'Gold Medal.' Favorites-wise, I'd rank them in that order, with the 'Cherokees' reigning supreme.
We've been knocking out a lot of these in gazpacho -- a perfect, refreshing meal for hot summer days. We've also had various tomato salads. And here's a tomato stack filled with a tangy chive goat cheese we picked up from the Stonyman Gourmet Farmer. The finishing touch is a homemade chive oil, made by my own resident gourmet, Michael. He creates, and I happily eat!
We made this season's first batch of tomato sauce with the 'San Marzano' tomatoes, and then we promptly taste-tested it for Sunday night's dinner! Mmmm...We finished off dinner with this fresh nectarine tart I made. There aren't any garden ingredients in there, but it was so pretty I figured it was blog-worthy.
I have at least 5 eggplants that are plumping up now. So far, this is my best success with eggplant -- ever. The variety I'm trying out is 'Black Beauty,' which can grow fruits 8-10 inches long, 1-3 pounds each. The one in the foreground of the photo is not quite tennis-ball size yet, so we still have a way to go before picking. Not a problem, since we are presently trying to keep up with an abundance of ripening tomatoes!
Too bad we traded in the old pickup truck. We could have grown food in it! Check out this video about the Truck Farm. Fun idea. Inspirational. And I love the singing. "...The arugula grows, the basil grows, the lettuce grows... oh, oh, sweet, sweet Truck Farm grow...". You've never seen a CSA like this.
We've eaten a lot of beans from the garden over the last month. Wax beans, green beans, purple beans -- we've had them by the colander full.
My favorite way to eat fresh beans is in salads with a simple vinaigrette. Quick, easy, no fuss summer food.
After several rounds of picking though -- and yet another colander full -- I was getting tired of beans. I'm absolutely hankering to move on to...
One of the things I'm most looking forward to from my garden this summer is eggplant. We tried growing eggplant at the community garden several years ago, but we were terribly unsuccessful with it. At best, we got one marble-sized fruit from a plant that had leaves as lacy as a bridal veil because of persistent flea beetle damage. I came to the conclusion that it just wasn't possible to grow eggplant around here.
Have you ever eaten fresh pea soup? Prior to this latest experiment with my garden produce, I'd only ever had the kind made with dried peas and ham. Good as grandma's dried pea soup was--and, boy, it was good the way she made it--I was intrigued when I read Alice Waters' recipe for a version made with fresh peas (in The Art of Simple Food).
I needed to gather about 2 to 3 cups of peas for the recipe. And the exciting part here is that, for the first time in my five years with an edible garden, 2 to 3 cups of shelled peas was a real possibility. At last, I had a good space in which to plant a decent quantity of seeds, and I got them in the ground early. The result? A bunch of now-shoulder-high plants, dripping with pods ready for picking.
Having learned in the past that peas get terribly starchy and bitter if left on the vine too long, I've been keeping a good eye on them this year. I picked one round of the plumpest pods early last week. That gave me a little more than a cup's worth, which I decided to blanch and freeze until I could collect another round on the weekend. (Yes, a cup's worth of peas collected in a single day is considered "success" in my still "small scale" veg garden.)
Here's the simple process for blanching and freezing:
Jamie Oliver's recipe for Incredible Smashed Peas and Broad Beans on Toast was the inspiration for Saturday night's supper. We wanted to prepare a meal that featured the first gleanings of our pea crop and other now-abundant garden offerings: onions and lettuce.
We don't have any broad beans (a.k.a., fava beans), but we were able to harvest the season's first few handfuls of shelling peas.Michael bashed up the fresh (uncooked) peas with a mortar and pestle, adding fresh mint, lemon, cheese, salt and pepper. The mash went over garlic-rubbed toasts, with mozzarella cheese on top and a final flourish of pea shoots. It was refreshing and light, and the combination of flavors was something a little different than we've ever had before. We'd never made a dish with raw peas. The recipe can be found in Oliver's beautiful cookbook, Jamie at Home, which contains a whole slew of recipes inspired by the seasons in the chef's own very-gorgeous-I'm-envious-of-it garden.
Here's a quick tour of what I'm growing and eating in the garden these days. First things first: the strawberries are ripening! I ate the first one yesterday. It was still warm from the sun and had a fragrance and soft texture like nothing I ever get from store-bought strawberries shipped from who-knows-where. I definitely need to expand the strawberry patch in future years. I also need to do a better job of keeping the birds out so I don't end up with dreadful scenes like this:
I do have netting over the strawberries, but this particular berry was close to the edge and got nibbled by a feathery (or furry?) visitor. I wait and wait and patiently observe the berries' every transition in color from first blush to blood red, and then this. I hate it when the birds get them.
The garden is spilling over with onions and garlic right now. I enjoy having both, not only for eating but also because the plants give a nice green heft to the garden in the early spring before the summer veggies get going. They make the garden look full, even when it's not quite so. Here's the view from the opposite angle.
I sometimes cut the green onion tops and use them in salads. Here they are on top of my own-grown lettuces.
I have a nice selection of greens growing right now -- enough for fresh salads every day. The red ones on the right side of the photo below were in the 'Valentine' Mesclun Mix from Botanical Interests. Left of that is Green Oakleaf from Seed Savers Exchange. After that, I don't know what the frilly green kind is. Once again, in my typically excited haste to get seeds in the ground in early spring, I failed to label everything. I'm trying to be more diligent about using labels, but I still have my failings.
My radishes have been a delightful addition to salads. New this year, I planted the 'White Icicle' variety. I like them just about as much as the 'French Breakfast' variety, which is always a favorite of ours.
I discovered recently that I like radishes cooked -- sauteed, greens and all, in a little butter and olive oil with salt. Cooking takes away a bit of their bite. I'm going to experiment some more and see if I can come up with some interesting radish recipes. Suggestions welcome!
Elsewhere in the garden, the first pea pods are shaping up. I enjoy checking in on the little ones' progress every day.
The green beans are up now too. See? I did a good job of labeling those. I got those fancy copper labels in gift kit from Smith & Hawken years ago. They're of no use sitting in a box in the shed, so I finally started using them -- even if they are a little fancy for ordinary green beans.
I'll close out with my belly-on-the-ground shot of a pair of wax beans. Up, up and away they grow!
Here's what I'm most excited about in my garden these days: my new blueberry plants. Blueberries have been at the top of my gardening wish list ever since my days at the community garden. My plot-neighbor, Brad, planted blueberries and I would always ogle at them from the other side of the fence. He had great success with his, and I've wanted to try my own ever since.
Here we are three years later. I chose two different varieties of highbush blueberries: blueray and bluecrop. Both are said to be good varieties for Maryland gardeners. Planting two or more varieties that bloom at the same time can result in more and bigger berries on the plants -- that's what I'm aiming for.
I started preparing a place for the plants last year, first with the removal of the crape myrtles along the border between our yard and the neighbor's. Then I added compost to the planting area and grew a cover crop -- winter rye and hairy vetch -- to improve the soil through the fall and winter. Before planting three weeks ago, I dug in pine bark soil conditioner and LeafGro.
The most important step I missed along the way, however, was a soil test. I know, I know. Bad gardener! I should have done a soil test first. Blueberries like acidic soil and I've been more or less winging it and guessing that my efforts have been making it such. I really need to test for sure.
When I bought my plants at the wonderful Homestead Gardens, they were full of flowers. The Maryland Cooperative Extension recommends removing all the flowers and pruning the plants back by about 50-60% after putting them in the ground. Okay, I know that might sound crazy, but the idea is to let the plants put their energy into growing good roots rather than berries the first year. I sacrificed the blossoms for the greater good of establishing strong root systems. My efforts will be rewarded with healthy plants that produce lots of berries next year, and in many future years -- I hope!
The guy at the nursery recommended that I use a liquid feed of root stimulator at planting time. I could have just handed him my credit card with a glazed-over look in my eyes -- Yes...I will do/buy whatever you say... I must. Have. My blueberries...
So I bought a special 3-10-3 (heavy on phosphorus) liquid fertilizer and added it at planting time. I also added a bit of Holly Tone, which is formulated for acid loving plants.
Okay, so that leads me back to the soil test. No sense in adding all these extra nutrients without really knowing what's necessary. I plan to submit a soil sample to a lab this coming week.
Sure sounds like a lot of fussing, doesn't it? Fuss I will do. I want good blueberries. And lots of them.
The peas I planted at the beginning of March are about an inch tall now. I'm testing three varieties: Alaska, the romantic sounding Meraviglia D'Italia, and Wando. I planted them all together so that they're all getting the same type of soil and light. So far the Wandos are doing the best, followed by the Alaskans. At a distant third are the not-so-marvelous meraviglias.
Wando peas are supposed to be fairly heat tolerant, so I have high hopes that they'll hold up when our spring snaps into summer. Last year I let my peas mature in the June heat and they turned bitter. Absolutely worthless. I plan to do better this year and harvest them before it gets too hot.
Inside under the grow lights, I have a couple of globe artichoke plants that are coming along nicely. I also started my tomatoes, peppers, and eggplants. Most of those have their first "true" leaves now, so I transplanted them into larger pots. The eggplants were slow to start, but now that I added a heat mat underneath them, they seem to be picking up the pace. That's the good news.
The bad news? The groundhog is back! Or rather, our resident groundhog came out of hibernation. It spent the winter under our deck out back. I spotted it lumbering across the lawn on Sunday, looking notably slimmer than it was last fall. Surely it's hungry!
The city police department provided us with a trap so that we can catch it and get it out of here humanely. With groundhog in place, there's little hope for those peas, artichokes, and everything else we want to plant in the garden.
So wouldn't you know it...we set up the trap on Sunday and the groundhog hasn't been seen since. I'm sure it's still around though. Most annoying is that we have to bait the trap with fresh carrots and apples; this after the beast munched up practically everything edible in our garden (and the neighbor's) last fall. Curses!
I started my first seeds last weekend -- leeks, lobelia, and something new I want to try this year, artichokes. Lobelia 'Crystal Palace' is always the first of the flower seeds I put under the grow lights. I plant some every year for its stunning deep blue flowers. The blossoms are tiny but when the plants are grouped en masse, they practically glow in summer's dusk. They're just beautiful, and they are super-low maintenance once established.
The artichokes fall into the "wouldn't it be nice if I could grow some of those" category, but I'm not holding my breath. I've never seen artichokes offered at the farmers' markets around here, and that's a sign that I'm probably pushing my luck. Artichokes are a perennial plant and it might not be until next year until I see a choke, if I even get that far with them. We'll see. This is definitely an experiment.
Here's a picture of my seed stash. Last year I had just one bucketful of seeds; I've since added a stuffed-to-the-brim shoebox. This past weekend I had the best intention of going through all those seeds and throwing away the oldest ones that I'll probably never plant. Like the cucumbers. Somewhere along the way I accumulated a lot of cucumber seeds. I have some packets in there dating back to 2004 and 2005 -- some of them unopened. My eyes were bigger than my garden plot back then, clearly.
I ended up composting only about 10 packets of seeds, mostly the unwanted cucurbits. I really have trouble getting rid of the excess. I always think, maybe THIS will be the year I'll plant those extra beans from 2006, or maybe THIS will be the year I'll plant that free packet of flower seeds I got in 2007 when I didn't have the space for them.
But if past behavior is any indication of the future...
What can I say? My seed stash looks pretty much the same after my half-hearted vetting process. And I just received 7 new packets of seeds -- my mail order from Seed Savers Exchange. I'm popping the lid off another shoebox.
I picked these beautiful cherry peppers and set them up in a pickle using a recipe I found in Alice Waters' Chez Panisse Vegetables. Garlic and sweet bay from our garden combine with black peppercorns, fresh cilantro, and two kinds of vinegar to give them their flavor. I made only one small jarful as a tester and also because we don't yet have the pressure-canning equipment that is recommended for canning larger quantities of peppers safely. These cured for one week in the refrigerator where they'll keep for up to two months.The verdict on taste? Hot, sweet, and sour all at once. The peppers are almost too spicy-hot for my liking, but just sweet and vinegary enough to keep me wanting to try more. Michael loves them. A hot pepper relish that accompanies the cold-cut subs at our favorite deli was my inspiration for this first foray into pepper pickling. We plan to use these peppers in a similar manner to fire up a few ordinary sandwiches.
Also on the subject of peppers, I am so happy to have bell peppers that are finally growing large and thick-walled enough to pass for the store-bought kind. I don't know if I can put my finger on an exact secret to this success; I've just been giving the plants periodic feedings of compost, regular watering, and full sun. I have so many peppers that are turning ripe now. I plan to freeze some, chopped and ready to use for cooking during the winter months. My mouth waters at the prospect of warming up to a bowlful of sweet bell pepper soup, made with our own peppers, in about February or so.
This weekend I used two of my fresh bells to make a red pepper butter sauce from the Moosewood Restaurant's Simple Suppers cookbook.
I started by sauteing the peppers in garlic and olive oil and then blended the mixture in a food processor with lemon, butter, and salt. Fan-tas-tic. This was a nice change from the usual tomato sauce, and it really was so simple to make. Unlike the cherry peppers that I pickled, these peppers were entirely sweet. I could drench my pasta in this sauce and still go happily for seconds without fear of taste-bud injury. Beautiful on the plate, it was food for the eyes, too.
It is immensely gratifying to go into the garden and pick a bowlful of peppers like this. I started these from seed in February, and now they're finally coming into form. Here we have purple and red bells, a sweet banana pepper, and a few poblanos ready to meet their fate on the grill.
Michael cooked them until their skins blackened and blistered, and then we peeled them, sliced out their seeds, and filled them with a mixture of grilled corn, diced red onion, Monterey Jack cheese, and cilantro. Then back on the grill they went for baking.
The poblano peppers were a lip-numbing hot, just the way hubby likes them; I picked out the sweet peppers in the bunch. We dined al fresco and soaked in all the satisfaction of our long-awaited peppers -- grown, grilled, good. And still more to come.
This is how the garden looks today. We are right now at the pinnacle of the gardening year; the crops planted in the spring are bearing fruit, while the fall plants are just now emerging.
We're enjoying a steady supply of crookneck squash, green and wax beans, peppers, and... the first TOMATOES! On Friday night, we rang in tomato season with a celebratory eating of tomato sandwiches: tomatoes with mozzarella and fresh garden basil, tomatoes on grilled cheese sandwiches, and tomatoes simply sliced and topped with a sprinkling of salt. I can't even put into words how satisfying they tasted.
Our tomatoes aren't perfect; most of them have cracks or holes or blemishes of some sort. But we cut the little imperfections away and enjoy what's on the inside: deeply colored, intensely flavored flesh matched with an unbeatable fragrance that eludes the supermarket counterparts.
Here are a few more scenes from my garden and table...
Last weekend I pulled my spring crop of beets. There weren't many to speak of, but I did have a few good-sized ones in the bunch. The largest among them were about three inches in diameter.
I baked these in the oven, placing them in an aluminum foil packet with a little olive oil and water to steam them. I thought I would make a beet salad, but I ended up just eating them plain, cold, slipped straight from their skins. Incredibly sweet, they tasted like candy, which is precisely what I love about beets!
In past years, I've left my beets in the ground too long and they turned woody and bitter. This bunch turned out so well that was inspired to scale up my fall crop. I've planted about four times as many beets to harvest by season's end. In our Zone 7, now is the perfect time to sow their seeds.
I picked a bunch of my Red Russian kale today and sent it on a culinary excursion to Spain. Here's its transformation into a Kale and Potato Spanish Tortilla (following this recipe from Epicurious.com).
My five favorite things in the garden right now are:
#5 - The Foxglove plants delivered from my Mom and Dad, straight from their garden to mine. I planted them in my new shade garden under the Bradford pear tree out back.
#4 - Two Redbud tree seedlings from my aunt. I need to find a place of honor for them.
#3 - Gobs of tomatoes hanging heavy on the vine. (Hurry up and ripen already; I have a basil that's eager to mingle with you!) These are an heirloom variety I'm trying out this year, Black Krim.
#2 - Well, not exactly "in" the garden anymore, but these are the mustard seeds we harvested from the Red Giant mustard greens grown in our garden earlier this spring. And yes, in case you're wondering, we are planning to grind them into, well, mustard. Mustard powder, that is, which is a key ingredient in the spice rub Hubby makes for his rotisserie chicken done up on the grill.
AND...
#1 - Peppers! Peppers! We've got peppers!The last one is another new-to-me heirloom that I'm testing this year: fish peppers, which are called such because they were typically used in fish cookery in the Chesapeake region years ago - or so I've read. Check out the very interesting variegated foliage. With white and green leaves, and even a spot of purple in parts, they're beautiful plants in and of themselves. And we haven't even tasted the peppers yet. Wheee!
Michael and I have been talking already about our next year's crop of peas. We want to grow more of them -- a lot more. Forget about "A few pods here, a token handful there." Sure, it's been nice to have small amounts of peas to taste and to feel the accomplishment of having grown our own, but now we want to scale it up.
I plan to devote one half to two-thirds of a garden bed just for peas next spring. They're good for the soil, we like to eat them, and they'll be out of the ground just in time for me to put in the summer and winter squash seeds.
This year's crop of peas (well, it's a stretch to call it a "crop" -- that's the extent of them in the photo above) was not so good. I left the pods on the plant too long. Worse, they suffered through the recent late spring heat wave. Code Red Days = No Pea Days. The peas got too big and starchy and we all but choked them down just to say we ate our own homegrown peas. Pitiful they were. Not even butter could save them.
Note to self: Never leave peas on the plant in that kind of heat. Never.
Better luck next year.