Documenting Spring in the Edible Garden

     We had spring in February and now April brings winterish cool, wet, windy weather  many days. Still, the garden is responding to the earlier longer-than-normal spring tease.
      The garden promises much for the table and pantry in coming months. We're still working through last year's bounty. Not a meal goes by all year round (yes, winter too) without something fresh from the garden or preserved from it in the freezer or pantry. It's all a constant reminder of our good fortune; not everyone is so blessed with nutritious food. Yes, we work for it, my husband especially, but there is a degree of opportunity not every one has, as well. Don is much better about working in cold, wet weather than I've ever been - and I'm truly grateful. Not only does he grow great salads year-round, he washes and prepares them too.
      This time of year we should have a milk goat; so many spring vegetables go so well with goat cheese - like the Asparagus Leek Gallette from one of my favorite online go-to recipe sources: culinate.com  I've made it three times in the last month; it's a true seasonal favorite.

Sorrel

  Today we had a Leek & Sorrel Custard (Local Flavors by Deborah Madison), using a handful of this sorrel and leeks from Springhill Organic Farm and, of course, goat cheese.
     Sorrel, if you've not tried it, is rather sour so a little goes a long way. It's great incorporated in soups, or a few leaves dropped into a salad make your taste buds positively giggle when they find it.

Lovage

   

     About a foot away from the sorrel is lovage, which looks a bit like celery and, in fact, tastes a lot like it too. I should make a point of using it more. In the same cookbook by Deborah Madison is a recipe combining sorrel and lovage in a soup, which I made 4 years ago. (I always note the date of the first time I make something on the recipe and whether we like or how to adjust ingredients next time. This one says "Good!")

Just-about-to-flower chives

     Just inches from the sorrel and lovage is a clump of chives with buds, soon to blossom into beautiful little edible flowers. Not surprisingly, the flowers are very "oniony," just like chives themselves. Like most flowers, they're way too short-lived and sometimes get missed during busy spring chores. They're a great addition to any kind of salad (potato, pasta, green, egg)  or a soup garnish. Hmmmm...probably even that sorrel lovage soup. I'll try it.

Wild Strawberries

     Wild strawberries are everywhere and are just this side of nuisance weeds in the blueberries. They even outnumber the dandelions! They're delicious, but teeny. It would take an hour to fill a tea cup. Fortunately, we have bigger strawberries that are just as tasty and fill a cup much, much faster (but disappear just as quickly!). These are left for the wild critters.

"Tame" Strawberries (well, not really...)

    I have no idea what kind these are, but they're the absolute best berries I've ever had. But, they're rather delicate and wouldn't survive long trips to markets or sitting about waiting for the right customer for very long. Hence, you'll never find the delicate but most flavorful ones in a grocery store, nor likely in a farmers' market either. You gotta' pick 'em yourself at a U-pick field or in your own back yard. I got the starts from a fellow community garden gardener who was moving and clearing out her plot. I was reluctant to take them because I know what work strawberries can be (they spread, thus need to be trimmed regularly and can be susceptible to blights). I'm so glad I took them, though. They're all the work I remembered but, for now, worth it. I may change my tune shortly. It's a constant battle keeping rabbits and birds away so, like the blueberries, they'll soon be covered with cages of bird-netting which makes harvest an additional squatting/crawling task.

Spartan Blues

   My earliest, biggest and sweetest blueberries, Spartans, are flowering already! It does seem early. Last year was a banner year so we'll be enjoying smoothies and blues on cereal from the freezer probably 'til these ripen. Life is good! I doubt this year's crop will be so prolific.

    Looks like we might get some pears this year. These little guys are actually called Shipovas and are fairly firm, not real sweet. They're from a tree that is more decorative than fruit-productive most years. It's a Mountain Ash/Pear hybrid from One Green World Nursery.
     The chokecherry next to it doesn't look so promising. It was amply endowed last year though while the pear bore nothing.

Stanley Prune Plum

   This is the graceful elder of our garden, cloaked in a jacket of delicate moss to keep her aging limbs warm. Each year we fear it's her last, but she comes back every spring, flowering beautifully and offering abundant deep-purple plums that are chin-dripping excellent fresh and even better dried as prunes. She's a testament to the beauty of aging.

Recovering Gooseberry

     This poor gooseberry is one of a pair that I whacked back severely last summer after harvest. Not many people grow them. They're a bit of work once they're harvested (you have to remove the stem and a little "tail" at the opposite end on each berry) but make excellent  jam and sauce for those with a palate that favors the tart end of the scale. They're really pretty in a bowl: little green striped marbles.

Hop Shoots

  The hops are stretching towards the sun in graceful abundance. The shoots are often used in soups, something we should try when thinning, but it just never seems to happen. Soon lush vines will shade the carport as they fill the lattice and grasp the roof's shingles, gathering a good crowd up there by mid-summer, sunning themselves lazily all summer long. Don will harvest buckets of fragrant cones for brewing in the fall. I have a fence of them in the garden as well which are used for decorations. Often, though, they slip past their peak before I get many cut since they peak at the busiest harvest/preserving time. Maybe this year...

First hop slithers up the lattice

Chard

   
This eye-grabbing chard is like bright flags flaunting the hardiness of winter veggies to all ye doubters. The leaves are gorgeous in salads and elevate the nutrients in smoothies, though combining them with kale and blueberries or peaches from the freezer with a dash of pickled beet juice results in a rather odd color.

Pickled Beets

  Speaking of pickled beets - our crisper is bulging with beets and carrots Don harvested to make room for new spring starts in the raised beds. Our favorite beet dish is pickled (with cider vinegar, orange juice and bay leaves from the garden). It's one time the resulting mess on the counter and sink is actually pretty. I would love to dye wool, fabric or baskets this rich magenta color.

Last of the winter carrots

     The carrots are rapidly dwindling and oh-so-sweet thanks to winter frosts. Carrots, beets, chard - such gorgeous colors from winter vegetables. Summer glory has nothin' on them!

Potato sprouts

 


 These potatoes are destined for my community garden plot in town. Don already has some planted out here in our country garden. Many heavy baskets full of flavor should result from just these few starts. Truly miraculous.





  

    A few tomatoes are left on the sill, the rest have already moved to the greenhouse peering above the skylight roof in this photo. On the left are eggplant, which will soak up the sun in the community garden in town, then fill the freezer for Baba Ganouj and Eggplant Parmesan, etc. all next winter. In fact, we've enjoyed both from last year's harvest just this week.





Not shown (besides the non-edible flowering spring bulbs): raspberries, fava beans, apple trees, chokecherry, garlic and many, many more greens on the way. Plus, Don has the greenhouse up and tomatoes settling in. The pros (Tom Denison, John Eveland of Gathering Together Farm, Jamie Kitzrow of Springhill Organic Farm and others) have nothing on him. We enjoyed our first tomato last May - on the 15th!
                                       Mother Nature permitting, it will be another bountiful year...

and in the non-edible garden too.