Nowadays, it seems you can get anything, any time of year. Asparagus in January? No problem… probably flown in from Chile. Apples in August? New Zealand. Even “wild” mushrooms aren’t wild. They’re cultivated, and perhaps generously called exotic.
I love spring for so many reasons, but especially for the seasonal spring foods that are truly seasonal. Ramps (wild leeks), for example, are only available in the May.
Ramps taste like a cross between garlic and scallions, with a white bulb and elongated, broad leaves. Like scallions, both the leaves and bulb are edible. I slice the bulbs thinly and sauté them before adding the leaves. I mix them with spring greens for dumplings or with a mix of peas and asparagus and morels for the quintessential spring vegetable mix.
Pickling ramps helps preserve their spring flavor for a few months longer. Shad Roe is an east coast spring delicacy, also only available in the spring, when the shad leaves the ocean to mate in the fresh waters of the Delaware river. The roe is harvested in “sacs” (or ovaries if you want to be graphic about it). The thin membrane holds together millions of little roe, the size of typical caviar. But unlike caviar or taramasalta, the roe is fresh, not salted or preserved. The flavor is sweet and earthy (like fresh-water fish) with a mild saltwater taste.
I pan-fried shad roe with the classic garnishes of capers and bacon, and the less classic pickled ramps. I made a sauce with balsamic vinegar, tomatoes (canned from last summer) and butter. The greens in the background is from the first harvest of my own mesclun. No dressing, but enough other flavors on the plate that it really didn’t need anything.
Less than two weeks after I started thinning the arugula, mizuna and tatsoi sprouts, I harvested my first salad. The leaves from the first cutting are softer and more mild in flavor than later cuttings. Even so, the salad is far superior to anything I could purchase in the market.
Less is more. Especially when it comes to planting lettuces and leafy greens. Every year, I make the same mistake, though, when planting the arugula, mizuna and tatsoi. I plant hundreds of seeds when I should be planting dozens. The tiny seeds fool me into thinking I need more, and sprinkle as many as 50 seeds per inch. To give you a little perspective, I used a 1/2 teaspoon measure for the arugula seeds in this photo:
When they begin to sprout into a bushy shag of leaves, I start trimming.
The roots crave room to grow, and when they’re crowded, the plants’ growth is stunted. Last year, I ruthlessly thinned the lettuces to one sprout per 1 or 2 inches. And I was reward with large, prolific plants. For some reason this year, I still planted the seeds too densely. So this morning I headed out to the garden to start snipping away.
This is not a particularly pleasant task. With sharp scissors, I cut the stem below all the leafy sprouts. I carefully leave the strongest sprout. With stems growing within millimeters of each other, I must be careful to not accidentally cut too much, nor to disturb the roots of the remaining plants. The plants I thinned last week are already rewarding me for the breathing room. I should have my first garden salad within a week. If you’re good, like Susy at Chiot’s Run, you will save all the sprouts for a small salad.
Less is more. Especially when it comes to planting lettuces and leafy greens.
Every year, I make the same mistake, though, when planting the arugula, mizuna and tatsoi. I plant hundreds of seeds when I should be planting dozens. The tiny seeds fool me into thinking I need more, and sprinkle as many as 50 seeds per inch. To give you a little perspective, I used a 1/2 teaspoon measure for the arugula seeds in this photo:
When they begin to sprout into a bushy shag of leaves, I start trimming. The roots crave room to grow, and when they’re crowded, the plants’ growth is stunted. Last year, I ruthlessly thinned the lettuces to one sprout per 1 or 2 inches. And I was reward with large, prolific plants. For some reason this year, I still planted the seeds too densely. So this morning I headed out to the garden to start snipping away. This is not a particularly pleasant task. With sharp scissors, I cut the stem below all the leafy sprouts. I carefully leave the strongest sprout. With stems growing within millimeters of each other, I must be careful to not accidentally cut too much, nor to disturb the roots of the remaining plants.
The plants I thinned last week are already rewarding me for the breathing room. I should have my first garden salad within a week.
If you’re good, like Susy at Chiot’s Run, you will save all the sprouts for a small salad.
By most urban standards, I have a huge back-yard – 25 feet by 20 feet. And the side yard adds considerably more gardening space at 11 feet by 15 feet. My wonderful neighbors are an eclectic mix of young families and third generation Cantabrigians. The long-timers give continuity to the neighborhood, enabling the new-comers like me (I’ve only been here 7 years) to feel like we’ve lived here all our lives. Every year in June, we close down the street for a pot-luck street party. Considering I live in the center of Cambridge, MA, I have little to complain about.
But as an urban gardener, I face many challenges because I share “the elements” with my neighbors.
My neighbor on the right is attached to my house. The large trees in their back yard don’t shade my garden, but they generate tons of weeds. The leaves sprout seeds, and in the autumn they all fall into my yard. I diligently rake my vegetable beds at the beginning of the season. And every morning, thoughout the gardening season, as I drink my coffee, I religiously pull weeds to prevent an outbreak.
My neighbor’s house (on the left) is about 15 feet away, just the width of my narrow driveway. The driveway provides the perfect break for the morning sun to peer right onto my vegetables. In his back yard, though, he also has several trees. The other neighbors gather under the canopy of shade and spend lazy summer days reminiscing about “the good ole days,” whilst I lament that it filters the midday sun onto my vegetables. And remind myself that trees are a vital element of the urban landscape.
One tree in his yard abuts my property line. In the last few years, it grew sufficiently to shade my prime gardening patch. I trimmed the leaves as best I could on my side of the fence so that I could maximize my sun without hurting his tree. Last year, he very graciously hired a professional tree service to trim the branches from the offending tree.
But then a strange thing happened last summer… all the plants I sowed along the property line died. Could this tree be emitting some sort of toxic resin? As I was preparing my vegetable beds a few weeks ago, I discovered the problem…. This tree had thick, cord-like roots that spread 20 – 30 feet from the base. These roots were strangling my plants.
So what’s an urban gardener to do? If I cut the roots out of my vegetable beds, I risk killing my neighbor’s tree. But if I don’t, I risk losing my vegetables and other plants.
I need your advice. How do I protect my garden and preserve my neighborly relations?
After a seemingly endless winter, 50 degrees feels downright balmy. I spent much of the weekend in the garden… cleaning up, tilling the soil and planting seeds.
First task: raking the dead leaves off the vegetable beds. Normally, I'd say to leave them on because they mulch the soil and provide nutrients. But I've learned from experience that these particular leaves produce TONS of weeds. So I try to get rid of as much as possible.
Next: till the soil. With all the snow and rain, the soil compacted rather densely. I loosened the soil so that the new vegetable roots could easily grow.
Finally, I planted a bunch of seeds…
In the front garden… Can you see the spring onions popping up in the front left? In the back on the left, I planted kohlrabi. And on the right, kale and icicle radishes.
In the back on the left… The lettuces: mizuna, tatsoi and arugula. And yes, I need to paint the back fence. Along the back fence, I propped up some chicken wire. I'll plant the peas along that line and hopefully they will train easily up the fencing.
And in the back on the right… Can you see all the sage? You just can't kill that stuff! And behind that, the lone brussels sprout plant… a bit droopy but still producing. To the left, I planted some mixed lettuces and more arugula.
Spring officially starts tomorrow, and I will begin sowing seeds outside for my lettuces, peas and other spring delights. My portable greenhouse will protect my seedlings from a late season snow……. which sadly can happen into mid-April. After a quick peek in the garden this morning, I discovered winter-tolerant Brussels sprouts. The stalks remained sturdy and in-tact through this brutal winter, though the leaves wilted. The outer leaves have a purple hue, the same shade that tomatillos develop when they are left on the vine to ripen and sweeten. Could these, too, be extra sweet? I only have enough for a small meal, so I'll want to maximize their preparation.
Under a pile of dead leaves and old mulch, tarragon and mint show signs of life. Mint has a reputation for being a hardy perennial, so while I'm happy to see it come back, I'm not surprised. With tarragon, on the other hand, I've been less successful, so I'm especially relieved to see it come back. The parsley nub has a few green leaves, so I'm wondering if that, too, will come back. I had thought it was an annual, but maybe not.
Less exciting is the state of my compost bin. At the end of the season last fall, I shoved most of my garden clipping into the bin. I had hoped that 6 months of the passive method (i.e. not turning the compost pile) would be enough. But, alas, I will need to work it rather vigorously over the next few months if I want to use my own compost to amend the soil of my summer garden.
I really enjoyed reading about everyone's favorite garden vegetables. Most of you mentioned tomatoes and herbs, but also enjoyed seeing the variety of what people grow.
…. And the winners of the packet of Even' Star Organic Farm seeds are Amy and Sylvie. Please email me your mailing address to [julia] at [growcookeat] dot [com]. Yes, I decided to pick two winners, since I think I have enough to share.
I’ve been thinking a lot about my own spring garden plans. Especially last night… when I wanted something green with my dinner, but had no vegetables in the house and a barren garden.
Every year, I plant a few staples and try a few new things. Like every year, I will plant a variety of lettuces to make a mesclun mix: arugula, mizuna, romaine and tatsoi. I also plant sugar snap peas with the idea of getting pea tendrils when the plants are young and tender, and snap peas as the plants mature.
In past years, I’ve planted “braising greens” in late summer for fall harvest. Unfortunately, I have yet to harvest a crop because the first snow always comes before the greens are mature. This year, I will plant in the spring. I know that the summer heat can be the enemy of leafy greens as they get bitter and go to seed. My thought is to plant them in a less sunny area. Hopefully, this will keep the plants cool enough and buy me enough time to finally get a harvest. This same spot that I’m thinking for the greens, I planted zucchini last year. You may recall, I got nothin’ from those plants but a few dozen squash blossoms — can you feel the disappointment? Too cool for the zucchini, perfect for kale? We’ll see.
Toy Soldier Mick grows beets in his garden… which makes me wonder why I have never grown them…. On this year's list! I’ve never bothered with radishes either, for no particular reason, but this year I think I’ll try. I have some wonderful heirloom seeds from Even Star’ Farm.
A collapsible greenhouse set it up in the backyard allows me a two-week jump start on the season. The greenhouse traps in the warmth of the sunlight, thawing the soil a little earlier. Not only can I get the seeds in the ground sooner, but I also protect the young seedlings from overnight, freezing temperatures.
So to recap… 1. Radishes 2. Lettuces 3. Collards and Kales 4. Brocolli Raab 5. Sugar Snap Peas 6. Beets
I still have another month or so to think about my summer plantings, even if I start some seeds indoors. Stay tuned!
Last week’s article in the Boston Globe reminded me that I need to begin my spring and summer garden plans. It’s hard to believe with temperatures hovering around 30F that spring will ever come, but I remain optimistic. In fact, I can start seeds indoors on March 15th so that when the ground begins to thaw in April, I’m ready!
I’m fortunate to have a decent sized backyard (especially for Cambridge). But you don’t need a large backyard to reap benefits from fresh herbs and vegetables. Whether you have a balcony or even a window sill, options abound. Your specific needs and constraints will dictate what you plant. Here are some things to consider.
Limited space When I lived in an apartment in the Back Bay neighborhood of Boston, I grew herbs in a window box outside the kitchen and cherry tomatoes on the fire escape. The yield was just enough to enliven much of my summer-time cooking. In one box, I fit four herbs: my favorites: basil, thyme, tarragon and chives.
Bang for your buck If you have limited financial resources (and who doesn't these days), you want to get the most out of your gardening dollars. Many components go into this. First on my list is avoiding waste. Second, is getting high yields for low square footage, and finally the cost of the seeds vs. seedlings.
Too often, herbs at the supermarket are packaged in quantities greater than what I need. Further, if I have a recipe that calls for 2-3 varieties, I can spend $10 on herbs alone, and half will end up in the compost bin. For $10, I can buy seedlings of 4 or 5 varieties. And as I cook with herbs throughout the summer, I just snip off what I need, and the plant keeps growing. Better yet, some herbs, like sage, tarragon and thyme, are perennial. I bought two plants each several years ago, and the herbs just keep coming back year after year with no financial reinvestment.
Celery is another example of the package size being larger than my need. I buy two or three plants ($5 total) and break off a single stalk as I need it – usually for chicken, tuna or egg salad. Unfortunately, celery does not regrow after the stalk has been harvested. So if I cook a recipe that requires a full head, then I’ll buy it at the market, saving the garden variety for when I need a small amount for a recipe.
Most lettuces are “cut and come again.” That means that if you harvest the lettuce properly (at least 2 inches above the roots) it will continue to sprout leaves. I can cut a mixed lettuce salad throughout the spring and summer with an investment of $6 in seeds (3 packets – arugula, romaine and mizuna).
Cucumbers proliferate in my garden, and can grow upwards on stakes offering economy of space. The fruit can be used in salads or pickled. Last summer, my three plants produced cucumbers well into September and yielded many snacks, salads and pickles. Last year I bought a packet of seeds for $2 and still have enough left over for this year’s planting.
Radishes sprout early. They offer an early fix for locavores craving garden fresh vegetables. Better yet, their season is quick and short, opening up the garden space to other summer vegetables.
A final, but very important consideration is the greenness of your thumb. Do you buy seeds or seedlings? For sure, seeds are cheaper – two dollars, for example will buy you dozens of seed or one seedling. However, some vegetables, like tomatoes, require careful attention to get them from seed to seedling into the ground producing fruit. I have attempted for several years to start tomatoes indoors to transplant them in the late spring. I have never had success, and end up buying the seedlings anyway.
I only buy seeds when I can direct-sow: that is, I can directly plant the seeds into the ground. Seeds that work well in this fashion include: lettuces, cucumbers, zucchini and peas. If you are unsure if a seed can be direct-sowed, check the back of the packages, the information is usually printed there.
Can’t Beat Homegrown Perhaps the most enticing reason to grow your own vegetables is that nothing beats home-grown – especially when it comes to tomatoes! Supermarket tomatoes and even farmers’ market tomatoes will never compare to homegrown, because they are always harvested before they’re ripe. When growing at home, the tomatoes can absorb sugar producing sunshine until the very second you pluck it from the vine. Better yet, you can grow the most flavorful heirloom varieties such as Cherokee Purple.
Some years, I’ve grown zucchini for the squash blossoms because I never see them in the markets. I enjoy their floraly soft texture that’s perfect for stuffing or just using in a quiche or omelet.
Lettuces taste spicier and crisper home-grown. Potatoes are sweeter and less starchy. And Brussels sprouts can stay on the stalk in my garden until after the first frost so I get sweet, tender sprouts instead of earthy, stringy baby cabbages.
And now for the giveaway…. To help you plan your spring garden, I'll be giving a packet of Even’ Star Organic Farm Seeds. Seeds from Even' Star Farm are cultivated to yield the most flavorful, hardiest plants. They are organic and heirloom and can also be purchased at FedCo Seeds. To give you a sense of their quality, they retail for 10 times the price of similar varieties. I have several varieties of seeds suitable for spring planting and harvesting, so the winner can select his or her favorite. All you need to do is leave a comment on my blog between now and Friday, February 27th at 5pm EST, telling me about your favorite fruit or vegetable to grow.
The house I live in was built in 1929 during the era of lead paint and asbestos. My neighbors (who have lived in the same house for over 50 years) tell me my backyard was paved over before developers dug it up and put in a lawn. When I moved in, I started a garden. I picked out the sunniest spot and started digging. Just inches below the grass were bricks, concrete blocks and assorted debris and rubble. The first summer, I dug out two patches – 8 feet by 4 feet – and replaced the “dirt” with a mix of peat moss, manure and top soil. I built up the patches with raised beds so that I had a solid foot of good soil. Each bed had, literally, 800 pounds of fresh dirt. And I moved every pound of it. The next year, I built two more raised beds… my backyard became a patch work of crab grass and vegetables.
Finally, two summers, I excavated the entire backyard and filled it in with rich soil. Okay, this time, I didn’t do the work, but I “supervised.”
Before… (can you see concrete blocks and bricks mixed in with the dirt) After…. The tomatoes I grew were worth their weight in gold. But you can’t put a value on the pleasure I derive from gardening… coaxing fresh vegetables from the earth… to know that within 30 minutes, I can harvest an eggplant or salad from the garden and serve it for dinner.
Given the constraints of good soil, one can still make economical choices when plotting a garden. Stay tuned for tips on how to get the most from your gardening dollars.
Shad Roe is an east coast spring delicacy, also only available in the spring, when the shad leaves the ocean to mate in the fresh waters of the Delaware river. The roe is harvested in “sacs” (or ovaries if you want to be graphic about it). The thin membrane holds together millions of little roe, the size of typical caviar.
The greens in the background is from the first harvest of my own mesclun. No dressing, but enough other flavors on the plate that it really didn’t need anything.
