It’s not just bad food styling that the vegetables are falling off the plate in the photo at left. It’s because I just can’t cram in enough vegetables at every meal to keep up with my garden’s output. And Flying Terrier Farms hasn’t even gotten into full production! There are at least 7 crops that are not yet bearing fruit. Those of you with sharp eyes may point out the 4 ounce filet mignon. Rest assured, such indulgences are gone. There’s simply no room on my plate. In fact, at this point I’m determined that breakfast, lunch and dinner will be produce from the garden first. Then, if there is a smidgen of room, maybe a crust of bread or something to supplement. But I doubt there will be a need.
Of course my veggie eating endurance test has several causes: 1) I still seem to be in an incredible spate of beginners luck with my garden. With no evident skill on my part, I’m getting bumper crops. 2) I just can’t yet bring myself to do successive plantings and thinning. When I want to plant tomatoes, I want to do it all at once. And every seed is sacred. How can I pull up and destroy what are now my little chlorophyll tinted children? 3) I have a British husband who has to be dragged kicking and screaming to any vegetable other than potatoes or Heinz baked beans. So you see, the burden falls on me. I am getting help from John and the crew who are relieving me of some vegetables. And I’m contemplating my strategy of last year. Fill boxes with vegetables, drop them on my friends’ doorsteps, ring the doorbell and run. But that’s a late season tactic. Right now, the mid-summer harvest is so new that I can’t bear to consume everything that I’m growing.
Here are my greatest challenges:
1. Summer Squash. Hey, I know enough not to grow zucchini unless I want to fight a Night of the Living Dead/Invasion of the Body Snatchers type of battle transposed to vegetables. But who knew yellow summer squash was just as bizarrely prolific? I see a blossom fading on Tuesday. A small bulge of nascent vegetable appears on Wednesday. By Thursday, the squash is large enough to be used as a weapon.
I’m calling my summer squash plant Audrey because of its Little Shop of Horrors ability to grow huge and mean overnight. (Terrier shown for scale.)
2. Green Beans. See above. Ditto. How can I completely clear my vines of all but the tiniest suggestions of beans and, the next day, I have enough to feed a lumberjack’s family? One thing that’s saving me: you know how you are supposed to pick green beans young and tender? Well, apparently, if organically grown, even when they get huge, they are still delicious. Which is great because even eating green beans in huge quantities twice a day, I can’t keep up. (Note: this also seems to go for chard which is also outpacing my ability to eat it.)
My beans with my salad greens and lemon cucumbers. Yes, the tomato was purchased. I shouldn’t have. I had so many more beans to eat.
3. Corn. The good news: my corn is only just on the cusp of being ready to harvest. The bad news: most of it is going to come at once. Which will necessitate a corn eating orgy on my part or a corn barbecue for all my friends with mandatory attendance. Luckily, in my ongoing experiment with different heirloom corns, this year I picked Little Giant Sweet Corn. This is a short stocky variety that usually only puts out one ear per plant.
John says I should have planted a more prolific corn. I say to him: “Are you kidding me?”
4. Lettuce and Chard. Thank goodness I can pick a barrel full of chard and cook it down to a pile somewhat smaller than my head. Because I’m just holding the line in the battle with leafy greens.
I shouldn’t be secretly praying for pests, but, at this point, I’ll gladly share.
Ironically, the only plant in my whole garden that’s been attacked by pests is my sunflowers (aphids). Which, of course, is the only plant I don’t really have to eat.
4. Tomatoes. Yes, it looks like, despite my best efforts to plant only a few varieties, I’m going to have another Tomato Cambodia on my hands. Luckily, the different varieties I planted are supposed to ripen on widely different schedules. So that should save me from too many late night emergency canning sessions.
This is a Paul Robeson tomato, a Russian heirloom variety that is supposed to turn a dark, almost black color once it ripens.
Did I mention all the crops that are waiting in the wings for a late summer ripening?
Like this winter squash and watermelon? Not to mention eggplant, okra and an artichoke plant.
How about this celery forest?
Not to mention, I have seed packets of Fall crops just burning a hole in my seed cabinet begging to be planted in a few weeks. Seeds? That’s right, the Heirloom Exposition, the world’s largest celebration of heirloom produce, is coming up in early September. And you know from last year’s experience that I just can’t be trusted around seed venders.
Well, as addictions go, I suppose this is a benign one. And I can quit any time I want. Really.
My parents used to blanch sweet corn, cool it quickly, and slice the corn from the ears and freeze it. Good stuff. Probably preaching to the choir, but it sure works.
You do know that the corn, chard, beans, okra and even the green tomatoes can be successfully frozen to enjoy during the long, dark winter? (I’m laughing because I know you are very good at canning.) I prefer freezing fresh veg because usually it just involves blanching and thus preserves so much of the goodness. Have fun. Your plates and beds look wonderful.
Yes, I know, I know. And I have a full library of food preserving books. But just like I’m too new to get my head around thinning, I can’t bear not to eat all the produce fresh when it tastes best. Now tomatoes, I’m down with that and can can up a storm of chutneys, ketchups and sauces. Okra, I might try pickling. The corn, well, it looks as if my Little Giant heirlooms are low yield enough that I’ll be able to keep up with it. Chard can be successfully grown almost year round here, so my solution may to plant less successively.
The freezer is your friend. Use it before you OD on all the fiber.
Our near drought (over here in our yard) and exceptional heat have produced exceptionally sweet tomatoes this year. Enjoying them at least twice a day. Childhood sense memory dictates Miracle Whip for tomato sandwiches. Need not use sponge called bread, but simple whole wheat does not overwhelm the flavor like some fancier varieties.
Chard will make you lose your mind if you let it. We have enough peaches hanging on to harvest time this year to need to freeze some. Green beans will be later and some frozen.
Your hubby make eat more veggies if you hide them under cheese for him. Greens, probably not.
Enjoy. Anything you cannot eat or preserve can be composted I suppose. And those boxes dropped off at friends’ places work too.
My composter booklet recommends black and white newspaper only, therefore separating and shredding. So far happy with it. We have a small tumbler style one.
Summer is kind of awesome. Got to watch Barry Larkin give his Hall of Fame induction speech yesterday. Baseball and garden veggies. Life is good even when there is still evil and trauma in the world.
Roasted corn relish.
Doglington
Hope all is well with you. Watching the Olympics and remembered your kindness of sending me postcards from Beijing. To catch up–our son and his future wife have moved back to Minnesota from Washington, DC. The son will be teaching at Minnesota State Univ. in Mankato, MN. they bought a hobby farm about 15 miles outside of Mankato. Its 10 acres and they have a vineyard. Its probabley too late to do anything with the grapes (mostly Marquette grapes). I’m thinking about making some verjus–any advice. Drop me an email; any vineyard or verjus advice?
Take care.
bob sharlin
Love your site!
It’s late here and I have had a few glasses of wine and am ready to sleep, but I’ll be by to visit again soon…