Gardening is a lot like cooking. It's really trial and error.
Just as I learned to be patient and let meat brown before turning it, searing in juices and developing flavour; just as I learned to salt boiling water, to season food, scramble eggs low and slow, and roast at high heat (nothing less than 400), I will learn, through practice, how to garden.
As gardening season accounts for less than half the year in Ontario, and as it takes weeks (months!) for plants to fully grow, bloom, fruit and go to seed, I imagine it will take years before I am wise in the ways of the garden. Here are some things I have learned in just two seasons:
It is very important to dead head - that is, it is very important to cut back perennials that have reached the end of their season (their flowers have died). Unless you're happy to watch your plants spread to unwanted places or to find, the following year, their dried out remains strangling the year's new plant I suggest you dead head. So many people told me this was an important element. I was too lazy last year to get around to it. The garden is no place for lazy. I'm paying for it this year.
Along the same lines, if you'd like to be able to use your herbs (and I'm assuming this applies to other plants) throughout the year, don't let them go to seed - that is, cut back the hardier stems which eventually grow flowers. The flowers are beautiful, and this seems to be a good time to harvest. You get a beautiful bouquet and herbs to use fresh or for drying.
If a book, wise friend, magazine or the little tag that comes with the seedling tells you to plant in full sun, partial shade, well draining soil, without too much fertilizer, anything - if that little tag tells you anything - do what it says. Apparently people who write books and articles or sell plants know what they are talking about. This really applies when it comes to spacing, or thinning out, your plants. I believe I have successfully avoided the tangled mess of tomatoes, basil, sage, oregano and thyme I got myself into last year.
You can move plants - it's not so traumatic after all. Move something if it isn't thriving where you've planted it. Just do so carefully. Make sure you remove the entire root system, including the soil it's settled in, and dig a hole deep enough to cover the roots but not the leaves. My herb garden is proof positive that even the most novice gardener can accomplish this daunting task.
Roland and I are learning so much so fast by doing. It's a good thing that we are both enjoying ourselves; we have a lot more learning to do.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Pickles and Roasted Potatoes
Barbecue Fare
A few nights ago Roland and I said goodbye (more like see you later) to our dear friends Yani and Paul who have left Peterborough for Vancouver (their rightful home). As a send off, we hosted a barbecue. Actually, Paul, Yani, Roland and I hosted a barbecue. Paul and Yani had some ground meat to use up (freezer clean out) and we had a barbecue and a house that wasn't in moving-mode turmoil.
The burgers Yani and Paul made were moist and super delicious, simply made with local ground beef and pork. On the side Roland and I served a roasted potato salad and pickled beets (along with Tabbouleh and a green salad). I mention the potatoes and pickles because they were a real hit, and something I think you might like to try.
Roasted Potato Salad - who knew?
Roasted potatoes are plain old delicious. My favourite way to roast potatoes is to chop them up, throw them in some boiling water to blanch (cooking only until they are fork tender) and then draining them before giving them a good bash around. The bashing bit creates lovely pockets and ridges for a crispy crust to develop once they are tossed in a hot oven (at least 400) to roast. While olive oil, salt and pepper make for perfect potatoes, there's nothing wrong with tossing in some smashed garlic, rosemary, thyme or (drum roll) duck fat! Being well aware that roasted potatoes are right-on-tasty, I figured a roasted potato would make a real good potato salad.
After roasting the little guys, I dressed them with some freshly squeezed lemon juice and seasoned them with salt and pepper. I threw in some sliced green onions and poured in my prepared dressing (equal parts mayonnaise & sour cream thinned out with a bit of milk and flavoured with fresh dill). The warm potatoes drank up the dressing and roasting them made for a delightful chewy-yet-crisp texture and a lightly smoky flavour.
Quick Pickles
With the dream of a big kitchen garden still dancing in my mind (it's not too late yet, is it?), I've been thinking a lot about preserving food. I'm planning on becoming very familiar with canning this fall, and hope to make lots of jams, jellies and pickles!
Something Roland does fairly regularly is a quick pickle. Mostly used for beets (because they are so delicious), this time round we also threw in a few of those sharp radishes I mentioned in a previous post. We boiled the beets and radishes until tender and tossed them into a mason jar with white and cider vinegar, bay leaves, peppercorns, cloves, all spice, brown sugar and salt. An hour in the fridge and the veggies were beautifully pickled.
We don't have an exact recipe - we're pretty lackadaisical about it - but it works every time. Because we pickle only what we're interested in eating that week, we don't worry about sanitizing or boiling the jar. They are perfect served with a meal, in a salad or with a cheese board.
A few nights ago Roland and I said goodbye (more like see you later) to our dear friends Yani and Paul who have left Peterborough for Vancouver (their rightful home). As a send off, we hosted a barbecue. Actually, Paul, Yani, Roland and I hosted a barbecue. Paul and Yani had some ground meat to use up (freezer clean out) and we had a barbecue and a house that wasn't in moving-mode turmoil.
The burgers Yani and Paul made were moist and super delicious, simply made with local ground beef and pork. On the side Roland and I served a roasted potato salad and pickled beets (along with Tabbouleh and a green salad). I mention the potatoes and pickles because they were a real hit, and something I think you might like to try.
Roasted Potato Salad - who knew?
Roasted potatoes are plain old delicious. My favourite way to roast potatoes is to chop them up, throw them in some boiling water to blanch (cooking only until they are fork tender) and then draining them before giving them a good bash around. The bashing bit creates lovely pockets and ridges for a crispy crust to develop once they are tossed in a hot oven (at least 400) to roast. While olive oil, salt and pepper make for perfect potatoes, there's nothing wrong with tossing in some smashed garlic, rosemary, thyme or (drum roll) duck fat! Being well aware that roasted potatoes are right-on-tasty, I figured a roasted potato would make a real good potato salad.
After roasting the little guys, I dressed them with some freshly squeezed lemon juice and seasoned them with salt and pepper. I threw in some sliced green onions and poured in my prepared dressing (equal parts mayonnaise & sour cream thinned out with a bit of milk and flavoured with fresh dill). The warm potatoes drank up the dressing and roasting them made for a delightful chewy-yet-crisp texture and a lightly smoky flavour.
Quick Pickles
With the dream of a big kitchen garden still dancing in my mind (it's not too late yet, is it?), I've been thinking a lot about preserving food. I'm planning on becoming very familiar with canning this fall, and hope to make lots of jams, jellies and pickles!
Something Roland does fairly regularly is a quick pickle. Mostly used for beets (because they are so delicious), this time round we also threw in a few of those sharp radishes I mentioned in a previous post. We boiled the beets and radishes until tender and tossed them into a mason jar with white and cider vinegar, bay leaves, peppercorns, cloves, all spice, brown sugar and salt. An hour in the fridge and the veggies were beautifully pickled.
We don't have an exact recipe - we're pretty lackadaisical about it - but it works every time. Because we pickle only what we're interested in eating that week, we don't worry about sanitizing or boiling the jar. They are perfect served with a meal, in a salad or with a cheese board.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
The Farm
Farming is hard
I've been working on a farm.
I have started volunteering at a farm in Hastings, Ontario. Just half an hour outside Peterborough. This week was my first farming experience. It's a lot of work.
We weeded a spring onion crop. The farm is organic and biodynamic. That means they practice old school farming - everything is done by hand, crops are rotated, no pesticides or fertilizers, planting is dictated by the lunar cycle. It's a very involved and interesting practice, biodynamics, and unfortunately I don't know too much about it. But check out this website for more info: http://www.biodynamics.on.ca/
So we weeded the onions, which were over-run with the suckers. There we were. On all fours. Pulling weeds from the crop of onions. A crop of onions is a lot more than a garden patch of onions. I can't believe that this is something they do nearly every day on the farm. If they aren't planning, transplanting or harvesting by hand, they are weeding. We pulled weeds from aisles of onions. So many weeds....
I found I had much more patience for weeding at the farm than I normally do in my own garden. No distractions (like the TV, the paper or a magazine) to remind me that I'm outside weeding - arguably the least attractive garden chore. It was a little relaxing actually - although it was four hours on my hands and knees pulling grass, dandelions and other unidentifiable (to me) weeds from between neat rows of scallions. This particular farm sells their produce at the Saturday Peterborough Farmer's Market. Can't wait for the scallions - you can be sure I'll pay whatever they are worth after the small effort I put into their growth. Farming is hard.
My own garden is at a standstill. It's been raining a lot, and I haven't been doing much planting. I don't know how many veggies I'm actually going to get into the ground this year, but at least we've got our tomaters.
Today at the market I bought so rainbow chard. I'll let you know if I come up with a creative way to prepare it...
I've been working on a farm.
I have started volunteering at a farm in Hastings, Ontario. Just half an hour outside Peterborough. This week was my first farming experience. It's a lot of work.
We weeded a spring onion crop. The farm is organic and biodynamic. That means they practice old school farming - everything is done by hand, crops are rotated, no pesticides or fertilizers, planting is dictated by the lunar cycle. It's a very involved and interesting practice, biodynamics, and unfortunately I don't know too much about it. But check out this website for more info: http://www.biodynamics.on.ca/
So we weeded the onions, which were over-run with the suckers. There we were. On all fours. Pulling weeds from the crop of onions. A crop of onions is a lot more than a garden patch of onions. I can't believe that this is something they do nearly every day on the farm. If they aren't planning, transplanting or harvesting by hand, they are weeding. We pulled weeds from aisles of onions. So many weeds....
I found I had much more patience for weeding at the farm than I normally do in my own garden. No distractions (like the TV, the paper or a magazine) to remind me that I'm outside weeding - arguably the least attractive garden chore. It was a little relaxing actually - although it was four hours on my hands and knees pulling grass, dandelions and other unidentifiable (to me) weeds from between neat rows of scallions. This particular farm sells their produce at the Saturday Peterborough Farmer's Market. Can't wait for the scallions - you can be sure I'll pay whatever they are worth after the small effort I put into their growth. Farming is hard.
My own garden is at a standstill. It's been raining a lot, and I haven't been doing much planting. I don't know how many veggies I'm actually going to get into the ground this year, but at least we've got our tomaters.
Today at the market I bought so rainbow chard. I'll let you know if I come up with a creative way to prepare it...
Monday, June 7, 2010
Tomaters and radishes
A bevy of tomaters
All the tomaters are dwarfed by tomater stakes.
It's necessary. As they grow they will need the support. Here's hoping the grow very tall, baring lots of lovely fruit for salads, pizzas, pastas and canning. Can't wait to can some tomatoes, sauce and salsa. You'll hear all about it...
I started the tomatoes indoors, from seed, something I've never done before, with help from Janette Haase and her book, From Seed to Table. Ms. Haase lives in Kingston, Ontario - just a couple hours from Peterborough. I couldn't believe my luck when I found this book - a guide to growing veggies in Ontario. I needed the advice! Ms. Haase suggested creating a nurturing environment with a mix of potting soil, bone & blood meal and sheep's manure. I did just that, filling two trays with tomato and pepper seeds.
After planing the seeds, I covered each tray with their accompanying plastic top (seedling kits), placed them in sunny windows and waited. I checked on my trays of seeds a couple mornings later, only to be met with the funk of mould. Janette Haase warned me this might happen. If the trays are too moist, and the water has no where to go (because of the plastic tops) mould may grow. Desperately, I scraped fuzzy messes from each plant-to-be, fingers crossed that they would still sprout.
Every day something new was growing in the trays; a new seed would sprout, a leaf would start to form, a green sprig would start to look like a tomato plant. Honestly, it was really exciting to watch things develop. The tomatoes really took off. The peppers took their time, and are still maturing in my window. Now that the tomatoes are in the ground, taking up every prepared bed, I need to make room for the peppers... and all the other veggie seeds I'm currently harbouring. Digging out gardens is more work than I expected and taking longer than I thought it would. I hope everything will be planted this week.
Radishes from the market
Saturday is market day around these parts.
At the market: salad greens, potatoes (from last year's harvest), asparagus, portabello mushrooms and radishes.
I love radishes. So sharp and crisp. These particular radishes, while small in size, are big on bite. Super spicy. I got a little carried away when I saw them (which happens to me a lot at the market... I just love food so much!) and bought two big bunches - some pink and white ones (the pink sorta fades to white... not sure if this breed has an official name, but they sure are pretty), and some oblong white ones. Roland and I ate them with a turkey sandwich yesterday, which is when we discovered their potency.
So, here I was. Two bunches of radishes. As delicious as they are, one can only enjoy that pungent bite so much. I needed to do something with them other than dress salads or serve them as crudite. So, I boiled them and glazed them.
They were delicious! Into a pot with them, just covered with water, seasoned with salt and pepper, on to a boil. When tender, I drained the remaining water, threw in a pat of butter, a good spoonful of honey and a pinch of sugar for luck. The radishes mellowed out perfectly - still flavourful, but without the bordering-on-offensive bite. The butter and honey made a sweet and sticky glaze. I served them with a braised lamb shank (not exactly late spring fare, I know), roasted potatoes and the market asparagus.
Glazed radishes. Definitely a side dish I will revisit.
All the tomaters are dwarfed by tomater stakes.
It's necessary. As they grow they will need the support. Here's hoping the grow very tall, baring lots of lovely fruit for salads, pizzas, pastas and canning. Can't wait to can some tomatoes, sauce and salsa. You'll hear all about it...
I started the tomatoes indoors, from seed, something I've never done before, with help from Janette Haase and her book, From Seed to Table. Ms. Haase lives in Kingston, Ontario - just a couple hours from Peterborough. I couldn't believe my luck when I found this book - a guide to growing veggies in Ontario. I needed the advice! Ms. Haase suggested creating a nurturing environment with a mix of potting soil, bone & blood meal and sheep's manure. I did just that, filling two trays with tomato and pepper seeds.
After planing the seeds, I covered each tray with their accompanying plastic top (seedling kits), placed them in sunny windows and waited. I checked on my trays of seeds a couple mornings later, only to be met with the funk of mould. Janette Haase warned me this might happen. If the trays are too moist, and the water has no where to go (because of the plastic tops) mould may grow. Desperately, I scraped fuzzy messes from each plant-to-be, fingers crossed that they would still sprout.
Every day something new was growing in the trays; a new seed would sprout, a leaf would start to form, a green sprig would start to look like a tomato plant. Honestly, it was really exciting to watch things develop. The tomatoes really took off. The peppers took their time, and are still maturing in my window. Now that the tomatoes are in the ground, taking up every prepared bed, I need to make room for the peppers... and all the other veggie seeds I'm currently harbouring. Digging out gardens is more work than I expected and taking longer than I thought it would. I hope everything will be planted this week.
Radishes from the market
Saturday is market day around these parts.
At the market: salad greens, potatoes (from last year's harvest), asparagus, portabello mushrooms and radishes.
I love radishes. So sharp and crisp. These particular radishes, while small in size, are big on bite. Super spicy. I got a little carried away when I saw them (which happens to me a lot at the market... I just love food so much!) and bought two big bunches - some pink and white ones (the pink sorta fades to white... not sure if this breed has an official name, but they sure are pretty), and some oblong white ones. Roland and I ate them with a turkey sandwich yesterday, which is when we discovered their potency.
So, here I was. Two bunches of radishes. As delicious as they are, one can only enjoy that pungent bite so much. I needed to do something with them other than dress salads or serve them as crudite. So, I boiled them and glazed them.
They were delicious! Into a pot with them, just covered with water, seasoned with salt and pepper, on to a boil. When tender, I drained the remaining water, threw in a pat of butter, a good spoonful of honey and a pinch of sugar for luck. The radishes mellowed out perfectly - still flavourful, but without the bordering-on-offensive bite. The butter and honey made a sweet and sticky glaze. I served them with a braised lamb shank (not exactly late spring fare, I know), roasted potatoes and the market asparagus.
Glazed radishes. Definitely a side dish I will revisit.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Can we talk Tamworth pork?
The Tamworth
Oh my god. Tamworth pork is delicious.
I wish I could share with you the incredible deliciousness of my dinner. I'm still a bit high on flavour so you'll have to forgive my wobbly post.
In case you can't tell, I'm in love with this pig. Tamworth pork is worth the $$$. Okay, honestly, it didn't cost an extraordinary amount of money, but it did cost $9 a pound. $11.90 bought me two thick chops. The farmer's market stand really sucked me in - photos of her happy pigs, running, playing, sleeping and nibbling in her green pastures, and the beautiful packaging (I'm a sucker for marketing) made me buy the chops. I vowed that if they were anything but delicious I would never buy them again. Fortunately, they were only delicious. Actually, they may have been the best pork chops I've ever had in my life. I am pleased to say that a happy animal really does taste better.
Cooking the Tamworth chops
First I salted the chops. My new favourite cook book (thank you, Yani Kong - my dear friend - for sharing this gift with me), Chef Judy Rodgers' The Zuni Cafe Cookbook, suggests salting your meat hours before cooking it. She calls it "the practice of salting early". In her book she writes:
Aside from simply allowing time to diffuse the seasoning throughout the food... early salting also promotes juiciness and improves texture [she's right]... salt helps dissolve some of the proteins within and around muscle fibers that would otherwise resist chewing... salt does draw moisture from cells - whence the widely accepted belief that it dries food out. However, the quiet trauma of osmosis is temporary. With time, the cells reabsorb moisture in reverse osmosis. When they do that moisture is seasoned with salt [also right].
Hesitantly, I generously salted each side of each chop (about a full teaspoon per chop). If Chef Rodger's was wrong I was about to ruin nearly $12 of meat. I left the chops for three hours on my counter (oh yes I did), and enjoyed half a dozen oysters at Roland's Oyster Cinq a Sept. I expected to return home and find the chops sitting in a pool of their own juices, the salt having drawn them out. I was almost positive I had ruined them. I didn't completely trust the Zuni cookbook. But, the chops were dry. They had, as Chef Rodger's promises, reabsorbed moisture lost. Okay, there was a small pool of juices (negligible, really), that I'm sure would have been sucked back into the pork if I had given it more time, but they were not dried out.
I made a honey mustard glaze with a tablespoon of grainy beer mustard and nearly the same amount of honey. I heated the pan, and dropped the chops in. Smothered the top of the chops with a little honey mustard and then turned them in the pan. The underside was golden. Flavour! I smothered that side with some of the honey mustard and bunged them in the oven. Condiment inspiration hit me, and I heated a little of the rhubarb jam I made earlier this week in a pan with a splash of water, some white wine vinegar and a dab of Dijon. Once the chops had cooked, I let them rest and made a quick pan sauce with the drippings (added some water to the pan, let that come to a simmer, scraped up the sticky bits and added a pat of butter) and served them with the rhubarb sauce.
Enjoying the Tamworth
The pork was so good I believe it would have been delicious if I'd added nothing to it. The rhubarb was a nice addition, but unnecessary. The quality of the meat really spoke for itself. It was tender, juicy and so flavourful. I couldn't get enough. I'd have eaten a second one if I could afford it. I devoured it. Including the fat.
I tell you, my house smelled like Au Pied de Cochon - Martin Picard's full-on Montreal porkalicious eatery. I remember sitting in Au Pied de Cochon, the air full of this savoury maple syrup scent. At the time I thought it was maple syrup (a result of delicious fois gras served over a pool of maple syrup and jus with pork belly & bacon), but now I realize it was the pork. My kitchen filled with that same savoury syrupy scent, despite not using any maple syrup. All I can say is Tamworth pork has it's own cooking smell, and it's damn good.
Very successful dinner.
Once I learn how to upload photos, I'll show you all about it...
Oh my god. Tamworth pork is delicious.
I wish I could share with you the incredible deliciousness of my dinner. I'm still a bit high on flavour so you'll have to forgive my wobbly post.
In case you can't tell, I'm in love with this pig. Tamworth pork is worth the $$$. Okay, honestly, it didn't cost an extraordinary amount of money, but it did cost $9 a pound. $11.90 bought me two thick chops. The farmer's market stand really sucked me in - photos of her happy pigs, running, playing, sleeping and nibbling in her green pastures, and the beautiful packaging (I'm a sucker for marketing) made me buy the chops. I vowed that if they were anything but delicious I would never buy them again. Fortunately, they were only delicious. Actually, they may have been the best pork chops I've ever had in my life. I am pleased to say that a happy animal really does taste better.
Cooking the Tamworth chops
First I salted the chops. My new favourite cook book (thank you, Yani Kong - my dear friend - for sharing this gift with me), Chef Judy Rodgers' The Zuni Cafe Cookbook, suggests salting your meat hours before cooking it. She calls it "the practice of salting early". In her book she writes:
Aside from simply allowing time to diffuse the seasoning throughout the food... early salting also promotes juiciness and improves texture [she's right]... salt helps dissolve some of the proteins within and around muscle fibers that would otherwise resist chewing... salt does draw moisture from cells - whence the widely accepted belief that it dries food out. However, the quiet trauma of osmosis is temporary. With time, the cells reabsorb moisture in reverse osmosis. When they do that moisture is seasoned with salt [also right].
Hesitantly, I generously salted each side of each chop (about a full teaspoon per chop). If Chef Rodger's was wrong I was about to ruin nearly $12 of meat. I left the chops for three hours on my counter (oh yes I did), and enjoyed half a dozen oysters at Roland's Oyster Cinq a Sept. I expected to return home and find the chops sitting in a pool of their own juices, the salt having drawn them out. I was almost positive I had ruined them. I didn't completely trust the Zuni cookbook. But, the chops were dry. They had, as Chef Rodger's promises, reabsorbed moisture lost. Okay, there was a small pool of juices (negligible, really), that I'm sure would have been sucked back into the pork if I had given it more time, but they were not dried out.
I made a honey mustard glaze with a tablespoon of grainy beer mustard and nearly the same amount of honey. I heated the pan, and dropped the chops in. Smothered the top of the chops with a little honey mustard and then turned them in the pan. The underside was golden. Flavour! I smothered that side with some of the honey mustard and bunged them in the oven. Condiment inspiration hit me, and I heated a little of the rhubarb jam I made earlier this week in a pan with a splash of water, some white wine vinegar and a dab of Dijon. Once the chops had cooked, I let them rest and made a quick pan sauce with the drippings (added some water to the pan, let that come to a simmer, scraped up the sticky bits and added a pat of butter) and served them with the rhubarb sauce.
Enjoying the Tamworth
The pork was so good I believe it would have been delicious if I'd added nothing to it. The rhubarb was a nice addition, but unnecessary. The quality of the meat really spoke for itself. It was tender, juicy and so flavourful. I couldn't get enough. I'd have eaten a second one if I could afford it. I devoured it. Including the fat.
I tell you, my house smelled like Au Pied de Cochon - Martin Picard's full-on Montreal porkalicious eatery. I remember sitting in Au Pied de Cochon, the air full of this savoury maple syrup scent. At the time I thought it was maple syrup (a result of delicious fois gras served over a pool of maple syrup and jus with pork belly & bacon), but now I realize it was the pork. My kitchen filled with that same savoury syrupy scent, despite not using any maple syrup. All I can say is Tamworth pork has it's own cooking smell, and it's damn good.
Very successful dinner.
Once I learn how to upload photos, I'll show you all about it...
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Budding Gourmand: number 1
Budding gourmand.
Because I like to seed, plant and grow. Because I love gastronomy. Because I'm growing my own food for the first time and want, need, a place to document it.
In the ground so far: at least ten heirloom & paste tomato plants, basil, chives, sage, oregano, thyme & winter savoury, and strawberry plant (read about my friend below).
Still to plant: cherry tomatoes, bell peppers, habanero peppers, cucumber, carrots, peas & beans, salad greens. Hopefully enough food to feed Roland and me (and our friends and neighbours) for the summer.
At the market today: the first of the summer strawberries, fresh picked (Mclean's Berry Farm tells me they have never picked strawberries on June 2nd before - a blessing of the hot spring we are having), spinach, mixed greens and tamworth pork. Cannot wait for a succulent, pastured raised pork chop, grilled with a honey mustard glaze and served on lightly dressed greens... already dreaming about tomorrow night's supper.
Strawberry plant
One glowing strawberry plant, round green leaves open to the sun, sweet tiny four-petal white flowers, and, fingers crossed, juicy fruit the squirrels never get to taste.
Strawberry plant lives in a strawberry plant prison. A chicken wire and 2X4 frame my fella, Roland, built to protect her from the mean world (read: squirrels). When we brought our tender plant home I happily planted her in a sunny spot, with room to grow and stretch. Ideally her vines will crawl along the soil, before setting up to root a secondary plant - more round green leaves, more sweet flowers, and more juicy fruit. The morning after she was set into my garden, I found those sweet flowers ripped from the stem, shred to the ground; one barely ripe fruit torn from the vine. A squirrel.
Squirrels and I are not strangers. They prevented me from tasting most of my very first crop of tomatoes last summer. They are horrible, wasteful little creatures. They will take a singular bite out of any ripe fruit they can reach and leave you the bloody evidence. They are my greatest enemy during growing season.
In my brief experience the only defence against a menace like a squirrel is to jail your plants in chicken wire and 2X4. I thought about catching one and stringing it up as a notice to all other neighborhood squirrels, but this seems too cruel, even for them. We have a cat, Ruby, who doesn't deter them at all, and doucing plants in cayenne pepper proved a failure (while in thought an excellent suggestion - they get the pepper on their grubby paws and rub it into their eyes which makes them never want to come back and in the worst case scratch their eyes out).
One plant prison in place, only about five more to build.
Because I like to seed, plant and grow. Because I love gastronomy. Because I'm growing my own food for the first time and want, need, a place to document it.
In the ground so far: at least ten heirloom & paste tomato plants, basil, chives, sage, oregano, thyme & winter savoury, and strawberry plant (read about my friend below).
Still to plant: cherry tomatoes, bell peppers, habanero peppers, cucumber, carrots, peas & beans, salad greens. Hopefully enough food to feed Roland and me (and our friends and neighbours) for the summer.
At the market today: the first of the summer strawberries, fresh picked (Mclean's Berry Farm tells me they have never picked strawberries on June 2nd before - a blessing of the hot spring we are having), spinach, mixed greens and tamworth pork. Cannot wait for a succulent, pastured raised pork chop, grilled with a honey mustard glaze and served on lightly dressed greens... already dreaming about tomorrow night's supper.
Strawberry plant
One glowing strawberry plant, round green leaves open to the sun, sweet tiny four-petal white flowers, and, fingers crossed, juicy fruit the squirrels never get to taste.
Strawberry plant lives in a strawberry plant prison. A chicken wire and 2X4 frame my fella, Roland, built to protect her from the mean world (read: squirrels). When we brought our tender plant home I happily planted her in a sunny spot, with room to grow and stretch. Ideally her vines will crawl along the soil, before setting up to root a secondary plant - more round green leaves, more sweet flowers, and more juicy fruit. The morning after she was set into my garden, I found those sweet flowers ripped from the stem, shred to the ground; one barely ripe fruit torn from the vine. A squirrel.
Squirrels and I are not strangers. They prevented me from tasting most of my very first crop of tomatoes last summer. They are horrible, wasteful little creatures. They will take a singular bite out of any ripe fruit they can reach and leave you the bloody evidence. They are my greatest enemy during growing season.
In my brief experience the only defence against a menace like a squirrel is to jail your plants in chicken wire and 2X4. I thought about catching one and stringing it up as a notice to all other neighborhood squirrels, but this seems too cruel, even for them. We have a cat, Ruby, who doesn't deter them at all, and doucing plants in cayenne pepper proved a failure (while in thought an excellent suggestion - they get the pepper on their grubby paws and rub it into their eyes which makes them never want to come back and in the worst case scratch their eyes out).
One plant prison in place, only about five more to build.
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