On the Grill

I have a new obsession that I foresee lasting the entire summer and beyond.  That, my friend, is cooking out with wood.  I don’t know if it’s the fire, the fuel, or the flavor.  Probably it’s a combination of all three.  And with my clone child at my side, showing the same enthusiasm, I know I’m not the only one mesmerized by the magic.

My family has only cooked out over campfires.  Part of this is because we never wanted to spend the money on a grill, charcoal can’t be good for you, and the stereotypical griller at my house is from the north where summer is set at a more humane temperature; why grill out in central Virginia where the cook would also feel fried by the end of the session?

So enter the free grill from a friend who moved, a recent reading of a friend’s blog about cooking with wood, several internet searches to find out what’s what, including these: http://www.bbqdan.com/grilling/wood_for_grilling.html and http://woodforcooking.com/wood-cooking-for-beginners/ and seven oak trees that drop enough fuel for the fire.  Why put this on your garden blog, you ask?  Because it’s about harvesting, learning, and delicious food.

First the harvest:  I learned that oak, cherry, and grapevines are great wood for grilling.  Fortunately, I have all those in abundance.  After garden work this weekend, I spent time finding fallen limbs and kindling.  I brought out my son to help, and taught him how to identify the wood.  I also explained to him why certain woods, like pine, should not be used.  Typically for camping we bring our own wood, so foraging has never been a skill he’s needed. 

ha-WAAAA!

And this is where the learning comes in.  Having a sidekick is great because I have an opportunity to utter what I’m learning aloud for the first time.  Plus, he’s figuring things out and teaching me.  We have a two fire system going – the actual grill fire and the side patio fire pit, which it turns out, is giving us better coals.  He realized that the larger pieces work better in the fire pit, saving us time and flare-ups.  Plus, as an official expert marshmallow roaster (according to Sophie from his class), he knows what kind of coals to look for.  As a side benefit, this kid likes to chop wood.  Clean swipes through thick tree limbs feel pretty good to an 11 year old.



And the taste….having had steaks cooked on a gas grill Friday night at a friend’s to wood grilled chicken at home on Saturday night presented a world of difference.  Even the resident vegetarian noticed an improvement in his veggie burger.  Other delicious fare has included sausage, corn in the husks, pineapple, and of course, marshmallows. Near future plans include lamb burgers over grapevine coals, skewered tomatoes with mushroom, doughboys, and grilled potatoes. Cooking that requires so much prep time seems to demand a quality taste menu.



MMMM!!!!



Oh, and one thing I realized while shooting the smoky breeze with my son – grill time also provides ample opportunities for relaxation and camaraderie.  Something about the fire is primal, and brings about a deep appreciation for the food, the process, and the people who take the time to fix it.  As my son learned, “instant gourmet” is an oxymoron.  Slow cooked savory delights are what it’s all about.



Accept no substitutes....



Taking Time

Everyone’s heard of the teachable moment – the time when we’re primed to truly understand something important, like if you’re drunk friend insists on driving, and you’re stupid enough to get in the car with them, you may end up in a rollover, so don’t do that.

I have found over the years that there’s also the plantable moment.  The time when getting something in the ground has to happen, like, right now.  Last year I learned the hard way that external concerns don’t supersede prime planting time.  As a first year doc student, I had to pass both written and oral preliminary exams that would determine if I could continue in my program.  For the month of April, I pretty much did nothing but schoolwork.  Looking out at my garden, realizing things were falling by the wayside was painful. 

Nature said, “Yea, so what?  I’m not waiting around,” and did its own thing.  I felt myself playing catch up the entire summer.  So this spring semester I decided my full load plus independent research could share time with the garden, and I’m oh so happy for it.  And, believe it or not, the classes and papers got finished and the garden’s on schedule.  Imagine that.

Part of what has struck me this year is that I’m paying more attention.  When I’m at work or focused on writing, that’s what I’m doing, and when I’m in the garden, I don’t think about the schoolwork.  If my kids need help with something, I’m all about that.  It’s not about being in Zen or anything like that, it’s about survival.  I can’t do schoolwork when I’m in the garden, so I have to let it go.  Worrying about it doesn’t help get garden tasks done, and besides, that kind of energy doesn't belong around vibrant growing entities. 

So when I see something like this, it’s time to do something about it.



Oh, so droopy....



Rootbound, would be my guess.



Time to expand...



...and enjoy the fruits of your labor.

No-tato Bugs

This garden miner has Irish roots.  In fact, my mother is full blooded, 100% Irish.  My father was 50%, but in his heart, more like 98%, holding out just a bit for his hasenpfeffer and Wiener schnitzel which he enjoyed a few times a year at his favorite German restaurants.  At home, though, Irish cooking was the norm.  And yes, we had some potatoes.

So when I can grow potatoes, life is good in the garden.  I enjoy feeling close to my roots both figuratively and literally.  And closeness is what the plant needs; it wants you to pay attention.

Central Virginia is doing the Irish thing right now.  We’ve had enough rain and gray skies to help the potato plants stand tall as they shout Erin go Bragh!  And that clamor has called forth some very hungry and prolific potato beetles.  They can wipe out your crop, so if you too are in need, let me help you identify them and show you what to do to keep your plants healthy:



REM would be so proud

 I was going to start with the dreaded beetle, but thought better of that.  Here are some of my plants.  I planted a truckload, it seems, as this is just one small selection of my Pontiac Reds.  You can see they're flowering, which means baby reds, aka "new potatoes" like the little ones you get at the market, are ready for picking.  I grow potatoes in straw:  At planting time I dig a small trench, lay potatoes down about a foot apart, cover with soil and then add a few inches of straw (not hay - you don't want grass seed).  As the greens emerge, keep buttressing the plant with straw.  I will actually be adding more this weekend, so you can go higher than I have here.  Straw has two benefits:  1) it keeps the potatoes in a looser medium which makes harvesting throughout the season easier and 2) the potato beetles have a harder time getting to their luxury destination (the leaves). The walkway is newspaper covered with a thin layer of straw to keep down the weeds, but my Zen Master, (bermuda grass) has crept in, D'oh!

Not the Mr. Stripey I want to see in

the garden

Here he is.  Ugh.  Cool looking, for sure, but you don't want him around.  So what to do when you see this?  Crush him between your fingers (wear gloves cuz the yellow ooze is just gross) or just pop him into a cup of soapy water.  BTW, soapy water is my method of choice for Japanese Beetles. 

Then check the underside of your leaves for the yellow eggs and crush them.  Just smear them right up.  I have recently discovered that as the larvae hatch, they eat their way through to the upper side of the leaf from the spot in which they were born.  Nature is so fascinating when you can put your aggravation at what's happening to your plant aside for a moment.

So you missed some eggs, and you will.  Not to worry, yet.  You can see in my first picture that some of my leaves have holes.  That's because these guys made it through my defense. This is why you need to check your plants regularly.  You're bound to hit the cycle somewhere.  These are quite crushable as well, so have at it.  They disperse quickly, so if you see one, keep looking over the plant and at the neighboring potato plants.  Once while visiting Monticello, I was stunned to see millions of these things on the potato plants in the garden.  A woman passed by and said, "Now that's a different kind of ladybug!"  I said, "Those aren't ladybugs, that's negligence."  On the way home I don't know who was more upset:  Me about the bugs or my youngest upon learning that Thomas Jefferson owned slaves.  It was a long, somber trip home. 

BREAKING NEWS!  Assassin caught
snacking between meals!


Had there been ladybugs on the plants, all would be well.  They're a great benficial to eat the eggs, and my friend the assassin (he's a beetle) goes after the larvae.  So that's another thing to check...who else is hanging around?  If you see parasitic wasps, ladybugs, assassin beetles, and/or spiders, congratulations!  You have just won the prize for providing what your garden needs to attract beneficials.  They're the hired help whose remuneration is good eats that you're happy to share.  Doesn't the assassin look like he got caught in the act on some convenience store camera?  I may have to send this to "Inside Edition."



Buckwheat - so easy to plant, just broadcast seed
EVERYWHERE.  You'll be glad you did.

Lastly, how do you attract beneficials and provide other deterrents?  Plant buckwheat and clover (red or white) near your plants to attract the bugs you want. Nasturtium (which comes from the Latin meaning "to turn the nose") repels potato beetles, as do dill and cilantro, which also happen to taste really good with potatoes - a nice added benefit.  Eggplant is a good trap crop, but the two I planted did such a good job there's nothing left of them, so I'm moving on to a new plan.

 So pay attention, and enjoy!  As you check your plants, take a peek and see if you have some new potatoes coming in.  Who knows? You might just get a few nuggets to enjoy for your time and effort.

Soil Prep 101

I dig digging.  Getting out there and feeling the shovel slide right through the earth with my foot enforcing just the right amount of pressure is soooooo satisfying.  However, there is a deterrent to a good dig that I face on a regular basis.  That, my friend, is grass.

Nothing blocks a smooth sink more than grass roots.  "ARRRGGGHHHHHH!" is all I can say.  When I'm patient, I do the circular perimeter (aka the circumference) approach where I create a disk broader than the god forsaken clump, then slice it off underroot and feed it to my pigs (after freeing the worms).   But there are other times where I just can't face it and go to plan b.  In case you didn't know it already, I'm the self-proclaimed Queen of Plan B.  It makes life interesting and reminds me that yes, there are options.

So here's an option I just love:  lasagna gardening.  This is where grass (and all its neighbors) get smothered to the point of compliance.  All you need is some newspaper, compost, anything green (that actually grew from the ground at one time), and black plastic.  Oh, and time.  What you see below is from soil prep that began in the fall, uncovered last week; lasagna baking for about 7 months, mmmm!

So I'll walk you through the process with a few pics from a recent soil extravaganza..... And here's a secret - put the lasagna ingredients down in any order you choose.  It's like cooking - do what works for you.  I typically put down layers according to what I can do at the time.  And if you don't have everything -- no biggie.  The most important component is newspaper, an earthworm magnet (I use paper printed with soy ink, thanks Mom for saving all those papers for me!) If you don't have newspaper, go with cardboard.  Just make sure it's not lined with plastic because after decomposition, you're left with flimsy plastic bits that are difficult to extract and aren't good for worms or the soil. 

Here you see a large piece of black plastic under which is a layer of all the things mentioned above.  The plastic lets things cook.  I know it's unsightly, but, I don't care because what it gives me is beautiful to behold.  Take my advice and get the heavy duty plastic.  It's durable so you can use it year after year.

Ahhhhh.....that was grass!  Notice the moisture present and the debris that can be worked in to create a nice texture to the clay-heavy soil. 

Check out the holes in the soil, courtesy of worms, ants, and pill bugs, some of the world's greatest aerators.

If you look carefully, you can see this worm hasn'tquite finished with this paper yet....

A sign of good soil prep.  Lots of worms who are happy to stick around for as long as you like.  Time to plant!

Happy New Year!

So which is it?  Am I late or am I early?

But more importantly, who cares?

You can make a big deal about December 31^st, but my heart opens wide with hope and excitement around this time of year.  Forget the bubbly, unless it’s a splash of pomegranate juice in seltzer after hours of satisfying garden work.  I recall one December while hearing Andy William’s “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” turning to my kids and saying, “No, it’s not really.”

Spring is a metaphorical time of new beginnings.  It’s a time of year when people feel so alive.  I would bet that most babies are born January through March, but in checking the stats, I find that I’m wrong.  July, August (thank you very much), and September have that status.  Having kids with January and September birthdays, I see that I’m attuned to both theory and practice.

Our final year of homeschooling, I decided we’d enjoy the full benefit of that beautiful new beginning called “summer vacation” early so that we could bask in the glory of spring.  Thus, sprummer vacation was founded.  The previous year I had administered end of the year standardized tests for my kids in late May.  Testing was new to us, as Texas didn’t care what we did with our kids (Thank you, religious right!)  After my kids took their tests, they were like, “That’s it?  Didn’t we learn all this stuff last year?” So, that’s when I decided we’d plan to move everything up the next year and see if we could finish our school year on February 28, just in time for early planting.

Onions are in, thanks to the help of Flat Zach

who arrived just in time via post. FYI:  In case
you can't see him, there'sanother helper
hiding behind our visitor.

Well, like others things in this great experiment called parenting, it worked.  I still had them read an hour a day and they had to willingly answer math questions when asked.  For instance, on the way up to Mt. Vernon they heard, “Washington is 212 miles away.  We are going 65 miles an hour.  In Fredericksburg we’ll get stuck in traffic for 45 minutes while listening to Coldplay.  If we start A Rush of Blood to the Head in Chancellorsville, what song will we be on when we stop for my mocha?”   Smart alecks earned no points by saying, “Who cares?!  Can I get a frappucinno?”

We loved our sprummer – lots of outdoor time, plenty of fresh air and exercise, and some well tended plots.  We missed it the next year, all being back in institutions where our connections to nature were more regimented.  But, despite the change, it was good to know that life sometimes gives us a break on what we perceive as steadfast on the calendar.  We fulfilled our obligation (and more) to the state in terms of learning standards, so what better way to celebrate than with an extended recess?  That’s how they do it, anyway, in the public schools around here.  We just got a better head start.

Garden Walk

A favorite time of day for me is after dinner, when I’m showered, relaxed, and holding a glass of red wine.  It’s quiet observation time, or as I tell my family as I head out the back door, time to see what’s what in the garden. 

It’s like slow breathing.  The energy of the day has been drawn in and quiet settles the pace.  At this time of day, I can touch the more obscure aspects of gardening.

And in one’s own garden, every leaf and stem has a story.  But when visiting another, it’s interesting to see what strikes you.

A few days ago I was able to enjoy my evening garden walk at the Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens in Richmond.  Prior to their evening event, I was able to stroll through the gardens with my glass of vino, alone and reflective.  The first thing that struck me was the thought, “what a difference!”  All prior experiences at the LGBG (a gardener’s CBGB?  WelI, I was there for a concert….) involved moms and kids, namely me and my mom and my kids.

I could hear my sons’ sandals slapping across the footbridges as my mother called, “You’re watching them?  You don’t want them to fall in!”

They won’t fall in.  And if they do, I can fish them out and enjoy the memory with them forever.

But, in her defense, I was obviously used to my kids’ ways.  Any wooded periphery to a playground proved more appealing than the new state of the art jungle gym.  Exploring the unknown, seeing what’s around the bend drew them more than the curvy slide or fake steering wheels.  In other words, they’d pick what’s real and changing over the contrived, and playtime meant being leopards in the jungle rather than astronauts on a spaceship.  The play structure is the same this week as it was last week - unless of course there’s yellow caution tape blocking access to the ladder, which all of a sudden makes it extremely interesting.

Boy in Garden

Enthusiasm on Nature

NFS

And if you think about it, kids are nature – in fact, we all are.  As we explore and interact with what’s around us, we learn so much about the world and what’s real in ourselves.  Children do a pretty good job reminding us how to do that.  Our job is to let them.  And if they do go too far and fall in, fish them out and recognize that they’ve learned something.  Like anything in nature, they’ll adapt. 

Beautiful Reign

I’m sitting on my bed overlooking the lush greenness just outside my window as the rain comes pouring down.  It’s one of those cocoon-like mornings where knowing I don’t have to go out makes me feel even warmer and drier.  I can feel the seeds I planted yesterday softening, and the lettuce that’s been garnering its pre-bolt strength deciding maybe it’s ok to hold off now for a few days. 

Lettuce give thanks...

Good rain softens everything.  It’s one of those elements that remind us of the power of nature.  When dry spells hit, irrigation efforts can only do so much because the resident sun has the momentum going, the plants weak under its influence.  But a big cloud-filled rainy day awakens every fiber of a plants being.  Color returns, power builds, roots exert a good long stretch that’s welcomed, no longer blocked.  Looking out there, I can almost hear the collective peaceful sigh, a slow and steady out-breath releasing all pressure and tension.

I do what I can for my garden, but I have to say, knowing there’s a greater power who’s much more effective reminds me that I’m a steward, assisting nature in her greater design.

Words to Live By

So people who know me know my motto in word or deed is this:  There’s a creative solution to every problem.  Being a former math specialist, I gotta say, problems are a good thing. 

Dilemmas are meant to be considered and approached from different angles, and if not solved on stroke one, guess what?  You now know what doesn’t work which is important information to hone your perspective and make a new plan of attack.

The dilemma we face sometimes on the farm is food supply for the animals.  Being a hobby farm, I tell people it’s like any other hobby – you shell out money to do it.  However, an even bigger hobby for me is cutting costs.  It’s a game I learned from my dad.  Why pay for something when with a little ingenuity, you can create it yourself?  When it came to reduce, reuse, recycle, my dad focused on reusing.  Many things can serve more than one purpose.

Take, for instance, your typical lawn.  It’s a great place to play, beautiful to look at, and a source of exercise when you have to cut it, unless, of course, you’re sitting down.  In the 18^th century, beautiful lawns were a way to show the world that you could afford being wasteful, that you had extra land that didn’t need to be used for agriculture, and you had the extra hands to perpetuate this extravagance.  And somehow, this notion that this is a good thing has carried on.

That’s why when my gears got turning a few summers ago when we faced having to purchase hay in July due to drought conditions, I felt my own shift move rigidly against tense resistance.  My husband was lamenting the stiff scrabble out in the pastures as he headed out to cut the grass in the yard.  I thought, how ridiculous is this when we’re buying hay?  “Let the sheep do the work,” I said. 

But it’s the yard…

And it’s nutritious.

But they’ll poop everywhere….

And you can’t buy better fertilizer.

But they’ll eat other plants….

Thus adding to their nutritional intake.



Never too young to start learning



Plus, I added, the couple hours he was about to waste could be reclaimed.  That was the clincher.

So we let them in, and watched them go to work like machines.  I could see how much they preferred lush green grass that survived better under shade than what had been gnawed to the ground in the full sun or the subsequent hay bought and thrown out to them.  Yes, they do make a slight mess, but all the better to add to the garden and turn you off chocolate chip cookies for the rest of your life.  Plus, like deer, it’s pebbly and quickly adds itself to soil content, adding incredible nutrients to support more growth.  It’s a cycle people, and it’s a good one, backed 100% by nature.



WWI Occupation



So now, our yard is another pasture dutifully clipped and hedged by a team of power mowers.  I much prefer the sound of their munching to the drone of lawn mowers out there.  Plus, as I work in the garden, I can see them just outside my fence offering more time for me to concentrate on growing my own food as they enjoy theirs.  I toss them a few carrot tops or crop thinnings as a way of saying thanks, you wooly wonders, for working with me.