Don't Call It a Comeback

We've been here for years, digging with our peers and puttin' weeds in fear...

Um, sorry about that. ANYWAY, technically this is only our second year at the farmstead, but we've been at this for a good five years now. I'll even venture to say that we're hitting our stride, but I doubt I could get Mark to admit to any such nonsense.

A new year, a new leaf. Lots of ‘em, hopefully. Mark's resolution for this year is to post less more often. A lot of his posts have been somewhat dense in the past; this is supposed to be a garden blog, not Ulysses. That being said, we're going to immediately break that resolution. It’s time for SEED LIST 2011!!!

We usually drop about $100 on seeds every year but we managed to cut it down to around $75 this time. This is because we saved a decent amount of (hopefully viable) seed from last year. And now (drum roll, please), we present the list!

• Basil, Genovese - One word: PESTO!
• Beans, Masai (Bush, String) - Long-producing delicate haricot verts. Yum.
• Beans, Tiger's Eye (Bush, Shell) - We’re eating our first harvest right now, and it’s amazing. And the plants don’t need support--score!
• Beets, 3 Root Grex - Comes in three exciting colors!
• Broccoli, Fedco Mix - A mystery bag of brassification. Designed to mature at different times.
• Calendula, Resina - A big producer of odoriferous resin. Sounds gross, but not if you’re a bee.
• Carrots, Scarlet Nantes - We skipped carrots last year so we’re sticking with a powerhouse.
• Chives - One can never have too many.
• Cilantro, Carib - Promises not to immediately bolt upon seeing sunlight. We’re skeptical.
• Corn, Luscious - The name says it all.
• Cumin - Trying this as a pot herb.
• Fenugreek - See Cumin.
• Greens, Siamese Dragon - Adorable baby Asian greens. Been meaning to grow these for years.
• Lavender, French - Probably won’t be frost-hardy, but we are going to try anyway.
• Leek, Bleu de Solaise - Big success last year. A few poor souls may successfully overwinter.
• Leek, Lincoln - Earlier harvest, longer shaft (heh heh, you said “shaft”).
• Lemongrass - Pot herb 3.0.
• Lemon Balm - Crown jewel of the much-anticipated herb spiral (more to come about that).
• Lettuce, Cimarron - Red loose leaf for the “connoisseur” (scare quotes by Kate) who disdains the buttery head.
• Lettuce, Tom Thumb (Butterhead) - Kate is always stalking the elusive butterhead.
• Marigold, Harlequinn - Now performing in full sun for the first time ever!
• Melon, Cream Of Saskatchewan - After being disappointed that last year’s melons weren’t that sweet, here we attempt to rectify.
• Melon, Sakata's Sweet - Some of us like our melons Asian.
• Nasturtium, Empress Of India - Chasing the flavor of that first big, spicy nasturtium Kate tasted as a child.
• Okra, Burmese - Another sun-loving failure from our shadier past.
• Onion, Stuttgarter - Long-day storage heirloom. So great we can’t remember why we ordered it.
• Onion, Walla Walla - Scallions on steroids: a sweet bulbing allium that won’t keep. (We may have jumped the gun on the harvest with these last year).
• Oregano - Needs no introduction.
• Oregano, Zaatar - Just because this reminds us of the spice blend we love so much.
• Parsley, Giant Of Italy - A necessity. Also a big hit with marauding wildlife.
• Rosemary - Nothing quippy here; we just keep killing them every year.
• Scallion, Evergreen - Can’t get enough of ‘em. We were harvesting these babies well into fall.
• Shallot, Prisma - Feeling a little un-Ambitious this year (boooooo...)
• Spinach, Bordeaux - Going for a bit of French terroir in Morris County.
• Sunflower, Mammoth Grey Stripe - We’re finally able to grow these ten-foot beauties, which supposedly offer tasty seeds as well.
• Thyme, German - Always seem to be running out of it.
• Tomato, Green Grape - Although the Isis Candy variety has served us well for year, the spicy description of this cherry tomato was too enticing to pass up.
• Tomato, Rose de Berne - Sweet, pink, round...wait, we’re talking tomatoes here, right?
• Winter squash, Uncle Dave's Dakota Dessert - Even sweeter than Buttercup; need I say more?

SAVED

• Basil, Thai Queenette - Super fragrant and productive last year, originally from Johnny’s.
• Borage - The bees went bonkers for the bombastically beautiful blue borage bouqet.
• Dill - Grown for the flowers, since we’re not big fans of the flavor (except pickles, natch).
• Ground cherry, Aunt Molly's - Last year’s surprise hit. Impressed everybody that tried them. Except the liars.
• Holy basil - We usually grow this tropical herb in a pot, but the one we grew in the garden last year thrived. This year we’ll dispense with the pots altogether.
• Pepper, Golden Treasure - Sweet, big, and thin walled. And slugs love ‘em!
• Pepper, Hot Lemon - Obligatory and unique.
• Pepper, Aji Dulce - Kate’s favorite pepper in the world. The sweet, buttery flavor of a habanero without the heat.
• Pepper, Thai Bird - Managed to save a few seeds from the fruits of a 2 year old potted plant.
• Pepper, Thai Burapa - The seed from these scorchers originated from Import.com peppers.
• Peas, Green Arrow (shelling) - Can’t wait to see how these do with actual trellising.
• Peas, Sugar Snap - We got a great harvest even though we neglected these poor springtime all-stars (thanks a lot, stupid baby)
• Tomato, San Marzano - Perfect for canning and don’t spoil nearly as quickly as some other tomatoes we won’t mention...
• Tomato, Gold Medal - New favorite, edging out dear old Nyagous. The fruit flies agree!
• Zinnia, Persian Carpet - Nico’s big contribution last year, these were beautiful bursts of color popular with both humans and their apian buddies.

If you have experience with any of these varieties, please share. We’re also looking for folks interested in local seed swapping. Anyone know of organized groups in north Jersey? Anyone interested in starting one?

Stay tuned for potatoes and asparagus. Bet you can’t wait!

Getting Squashed

Though we're raging against it, this baby is kicking our asses. So much for the planned blog posts about sweet, sweet aji dulce peppers and well-deserved shout-outs to friends like E & J who have been helping us tidy up the garden before the winter cold settles in. Our time is at a premium right now, and Coltivi has suffered.

Before Li'l G was born, at least one person told me straight out that the craziness of two kids would make me give up cooking and we'd be surviving on pasta and chicken fingers. I seem to have taken that as a personal challenge. Today the baby was amenable enough to nap for a whole hour, so I started a batch of this tangy-sweet bread, made two kinds of baby food, and prepped two experimental dishes I'm making for dinner. This is not the most sensible use of my precious free time, I know, but it helps keep me (legally!) sane. Laundry? What laundry?

To get to the point, last night I summoned up a new dish that will have the honor of going into regular rotation round these parts. Last month I visited a local food consignment shop (such a cool idea), where I bought these adorable sweet dumpling squash that happened to be seriously delicious as well. They roast up so quickly in the oven, and the shop owner mentioned that if you go and fill the squash with good stuff, you could have a one-dish meal on your hands. So here's what I did, and it was a big hit. Sweet, salty, crunchy, creamy, tangy--this dish is greater than the sum. They went so fast I didn't even get to take photos.

Stuffed Sweet Dumpling Squash

3 sweet dumpling squash or small winter squash
3 slices whole-wheat sandwich bread
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 medium red pepper, finely chopped
1 cup cheese, grated (I used a young goat gouda, but you could use parmesan or crumbled chevre)
¼ cup chopped parsley
salt, pepper, herbs de provence

Preheat oven to 400º. Cut squashes in half and scoop out the seeds, then rub with olive oil and sprinkle with salt. Place cut side down on a baking sheet and roast for 30 minutes or until the skin can be easily pierced with a fork. Remove from oven and cool.

Meanwhile, roughly cube the bread and whizz in the food processor to make breadcrumbs. Heat 2T olive oil in a large sauté pan over medium-high heat, then toss the crumbs with the oil and cook until crispy, about 5 minutes. Remove the breadcrumbs from the pan and add the remaining 1T oil. Saute the onions until translucent, just a few minutes, then add the pepper and herbs and cook for another couple of minutes.

Turn on the broiler. Combine breadcrumbs with sautéed vegetables, cheese, and parsley, then spoon the filling into each squash half. Don’t be shy; mound it up as much as you like. Place the pan under the broiler, either on low or about 6 inches away from the flame, for about 3 minutes or until the cheese melts and the topping turns golden. Enjoy with some wild rice and wilted fall greens.

Serves about 4, fewer if you're really hungry.

Supa Dupa Dry

This jar holds what used to be ten pounds of San Marzano tomatoes. I included the fresh one for scale. You may be asking, How does one transform ten pounds of tomatoes to fit into a quart-size jar? Answer: Two days of cooking. Although, to be fair, it's mostly hands-off time spent drying the tomatoes in a very low oven. I took the extra step of blanching and peeling the tomatoes, which isn't strictly necessary.

All I can say is that this toil had better be worth it. I've never been a huge fan of sun-dried (or oven-dried, if you will) tomatoes, though I like them well enough. But if I have these at my disposal through the cold months I may be more likely to use them in salads and soups, either in their current state, soaked in oil, in dressings, or reconstituted.

P.S. Sorry if the Missy Elliott reference was lost on anyone. I'd like to see a Venn diagram of the intersection between gardeners, gourmands, and fans of old-school rap.

Little Miss Green

Voilà! Verdurette de l’été. I made mine with sweet summer onions, red bell pepper, carrots, parsley, and basil, but you can use whatever veggies and herbs you like best or have on hand in your kitchen. I plan to use it like I would sofrito or bouillon, mixing a spoonful into soups, dips, eggs, rice, or beans.

Side note: Nico has come to the conclusion that a dish is only homemade if we made it using ingredients we grew ourselves. Talk about a sophisticated palate! I'm afraid we're setting this kid up for some unrealistic expectations. I won't even mention his love of smoked monkfish and sour mustard greens.

Doing the Can-Can

Last weekend I took a terrific food preservation class that gave me the confidence I need to forge ahead with my canning ideas. In the past I've canned a little salsa and jam, but I've always been anxious that the end result won't be safe or just plain won't taste good. I always felt like I was doing it in the dark, fudging things without the right techniques and equipment. Even though I own a few books on canning, I didn't know enough about the science behind food preservation to riff on some of the more traditional recipes and make them my own. I want this food to end up being something I'll actually want to eat in February. I can only eat so many dilly beans. Am I risking botulism if I don't refrigerate this tomato confit? (Perhaps.) Am I screwing up the pH of these marinated peppers by adding extra garlic? (No.)

This year we have enough extra produce that it would be a big waste not to put some of it up. It's also fun to play with all the fruits and veggies coming in. My day with Leda Meredith at Genesis Farm was eye-opening on all counts. Meredith is committed to seasonal, sustainable food, but she also wants it to taste good, and she talks about less well known techniques for preserving food like salting, drying, and lactic fermentation, which I am very curious about.

So far I've process a gallon of tomatoes, dried 10 pounds of the same, put hot peppers in vinegar, and made pickles using lactic fermentation. In the hopper I've got some jam made from peaches acquired through bartering with our farmer neighbors (am I a pioneer superhero or what?) and a batch of verdurette, which is basically vegetable bouillon and, according to Meredith, keeps basically forever.

The adventure continues!

Cherry Cherry

I laughed long and hard at Mark's love for ground cherries, but now I will confess in front of blog and everyone that I have been won over by their wiles. Sweet, sharp, and crisp--I don't understand why more people don't cultivate and eat these. They look like a tomatillo, with a smooth golden fruit inside a lantern-shaped husk, and they're native to North America. It's fun and addictive to unwrap and eat them, one by one. And they were sure easy for us to grow this year. Why don't they sell these at the supermarket, or even at the farmers' market?

UPDATE: I'm gonna go ahead and label this mild interest in our ground cherries an official hubbub. Here's what they look like inside the husk.

Officially Ridiculous

And this is just the beginning.