The Ant or the Grasshopper?

Excuses? I got a million of 'em.

First the grasshopper part: I've been out of town a lot this summer, to Wenatchee and Lake Chelan (pre-fire), then to Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, and most recently to Louisville, Kentucky, to explore the city and visit Maker's Mark.

Now for the ant: the garden was on (virtual) steroids this summer, producing pounds and pounds of tomatoes, requiring us to eat them fresh, give them away or roast and freeze. Then I got the chance to help my friend Linda home-can about 50 pounds of fresh albacore, which I'll be telling you about soon.

Last, but most certainly not least, last winter I got addicted to homemade tomato sauce made from astiana tomatoes I roasted and froze. Pulling out a bag guaranteed a blast of summer flavor on grey, rainy winter days. Which meant I had little choice but to do the same when they appeared at the Ayers Creek stand at the Hillsdale market this year. Seventy or so pounds of tomatoes later, I have about eighteen quarts of delicious roasted tomatoes just waiting to be used in sauces, stews and soups.

Which, seeing as I'm going to be around for the foreseeable future, you'll be able to read about right here. Cause I've run out of excuses.

Garden 2012: The Harvest Hits

We leave town for a week and suddenly it's tomato season!

Can't ask for better timing than that, especially since a couple of years ago we left for a few days about this time of year and got a panicky call from our son, who was housesitting for us and had just collected a bushel of ripe tomatoes from the garden. "No problem," we said, sensing this was a perfect teachable moment. "Get a big pot, chunk up the tomatoes and simmer them over low heat. You'll have sauce in no time."

I've run the recipe below before, which is based on a Mark Bittman dish from his Minimalist days, but it's one of our all-time favorite, go-to weeknight dinners. And there's no better time to make it than when cherry tomatoes are popping out of the garden and flooding into farmers' markets!

Pasta with Cherry Tomatoes, Garlic and Anchovies

1 lb. dried pasta
2 Tbsp. olive oil
6 anchovy fillets (in oil or salt-packed)
2 Tbsp. chopped garlic
1 pint (2-3 cups) cherry tomatoes (larger tomatoes, roughly chopped, also work well)
2 c. chopped kale, chard, spinach or other greens (optional)
Salt and pepper to taste
Parmesan and/or pecorino cheese, grated

Bring large pot of salted water to boil.

While water is heating, heat olive oil in large skillet over medium heat until it shimmers. If using salt-packed anchovies, rinse and dry on a paper towel and proceed as with tinned anchovies. If using tinned anchovies, add without draining to skillet and sauté, breaking them up with a spatula until they dissolve (watch out for splattering). Add garlic and heat briefly, then add cherry tomatoes and reduce heat to simmer.

While tomatoes cook down, add pasta to boiling water and cook till al dente. While pasta cooks, add greens, if desired, to skillet and let them wilt. (To me, adding the greens makes a one-dish dinner, but it'd also be great with a green salad and bread.) Add salt and pepper to taste. When pasta is cooked, drain and put in serving bowl. Pour tomato mixture over top and toss gently. Sprinkle with cheese and serve more on the table.

Garden 2012: Leaps and Bounds

A picture is indeed worth a thousand words. All I have to do is go back one month and look at the photos of the garden back then. Tomato starts just put into the ground. Teeny baby lettuces beginning to sprout from the seeds I'd planted.

Then take a gander at the salad greens above taken a couple of days ago…and that's after two hefty harvests the week before.

Wow.

The tomatoes (left), as foretold by wise gardeners I talked to, have taken off with the advent of warmer soil temperatures, some even starting to set fruit. The kale, still in the baby stage, should provide some good eatin' later in the summer and throughout the winter and spring. It's still a little early to tell if it'll be a good year for peppers, but hope springs eternal.

See? There is a reason I write this blog. Even if it just reminds me how quickly my garden grows.

Garden 2012: Tomatoes On Parade

I was beginning to think that, for the first time in memory, we might not be planting tomatoes in our garden. My neighbor, Susana, had planted hers a good three weeks earlier and I'd been watched them gradually pop out of the tops of their protective teepees. Plus we'd been gone for a week at the beach, losing even more precious planting time.

I was somewhat comforted when the weather took a turn for the colder, followed a couple of days later by a horrendous hailstorm that blasted through the area, leaving pellet-sized residue a good half inch deep on the ground. So yesterday we downed some coffee and headed for our favorite neighborhood nursery, Garden Fever, hoping that they hadn't sold out of our favorite varieties.

The younger starts we normally plant in the spring had been replaced by larger, sturdier plants in gallon pots that were a bit more expensive, but we decided to pay the penalty for not planting earlier and bought six: two Cherokee purples and one each of green zebra, yellow pear, Sungold and red cherry. And with the weather for the coming week predicted to hover in the 60s and 70s, and consequent warmer nights bringing the soil temperature up to the desired 60 degrees, we also invested in pepper starts: two Jimmy Nardellos, two pasillas and a Melrose.

With those and a six-pack of lacinato, we bought, we came home, we planted. Add in the tiny leafy greens, carrots and herbs in the raised beds and the pea shoots climbing up the fence behind them, and we're pretty much done for the time being. Now to sit back and pray for nice balance of sun and rain for the duration!

Garden 2012: Blueberries, Peas and Leafy Greens

The blueberries were the first to go in, a selection that included Duke, Blueray, Earliblue and a mature Bluecrop bush from a friend who was removing a few of hers. I'm hoping to baby the young bushes through the summer, though it'll be a year or two before they start to bear fruit. But we should be in for a haul assuming they all survive.

After getting the blueberries settled into their new homes, I poked sugar and snap peas along the chain link fence behind them. It took about a week, but with regular watering and a string of warm, sunny days, they began to pop out of the soil and wrap their little tendrils around the fence wire.

This year I'm dedicating the raised beds to salad greens and carrots, planting rows of individual varieties rather than combining the seeds from the packets and sowing them in large patches. As usual, I got a little overzealous in my selection, ending up with mixed mesclun, arugula, two types of oak leaf lettuce, red velvet lettuce, romaine and a fascinating sounding Australian Yellowleaf. Who could resist?

My plan is to pick the baby and mid-size greens to thin them, then let some mature into heads. About half the second bed will have eight rows of carrots, an orange Yaya hybrid that's purported to be sweet and crunchy, and a sweet purple variety called Purple Haze that grew well last year, tasted great and looked really impressive with other roasted roots.

Coming soon will be tomatoes and kale, though they may have to wait till after the beginning of June to go in. At least the soil will be warm enough by then…I hope!

Garden 2012: So Many Possibilities!

And so it begins. We spent the weekend tilling, weeding, picking up a load of compost (above) and spreading it over our garden beds. All motivated by the anticipation of the sweet taste of homegrown tomatoes in (fingers crossed) August, along with a (again, fingers crossed) bountiful harvest of carrots, peas, greens, herbs and squash.

The beds with tarragon, miner's lettuce and thyme from last year. Rhubarb anchors the strip behind.

We decided that with its full southern exposure, the strip behind the raised beds—in their sixth planting season and still going strong—would be the perfect place for some blueberries. Peas will be growing up the chain link fence behind them, to be followed by beans when the peas are done. The fence not only provides a great climbing structure for the twisty vines, but makes an edible screen between the back yard and the sidewalk.

The parking strip where the tomatoes will live.

I know, I know, it's all sounding pretty pie-in-the-sky right now, but that's just what an expanse of darkly rich, ready-to-be-planted soil does to me. So until reality intrudes, forgive me while I put on my rose-colored glasses and dream.