I think it’s mostly all there, yet it seems short. What am I missing? Anne has already pointed out the lack of swiss chard in a rainbow of colors. We might have some seed remaining from last year though – I need to check on that. Same goes for spinach and radish. I now wonder if I shouldn’t order another variety of sweet pepper. I purposely left off pumpkins. We finished last year with too many squash beetles – I’m hoping that taking a year off will confuse them.

I am a bit saddened that the hot lemon pepper seems to have disappeared from the catalogs this year. It was a great spicy pepper. Also still need to order the mushroom plugs, but if I understand the recommendations, these need to be dealt with upon receiving so they will need to wait for March or April.

SUHYO TK CUCUMBER
BIG RAINBOW TOMATO
KELLOGGS BREAKFAST TOMATO
TOMATOBERRY GARDEN TOMATO
DETROIT BEET
DRAGON LANGERIE BEAN
Antohi Romanian > Sweet Specialty Peppers
Fairy Tale Eggplant
Carson Beans, Bush > Yellow, Round Pod
Amadeus Broccoli
Habanero
Hot Paper Lantern > Hot Specialty Peppers
Skyphos Lettuce > Butterhead/Boston > Red
Allstar Gourmet Lettuce Mix
Amethyst Improved > Basil
Genovese > Basil
Nelson > Carrots
Sunburst > Squash > Patty Pan/Scallop
Sugar Ann > Peas
Fall Green Manure Mix > Cover Crops/Farm Seeds

Special thanks to Nick and Jamie for the gift of Johnny’s Seeds this year. The garden thanks you.

I have always wanted to grow horseradish. So I did. I thought I was undecided when it comes to horseradish. Then I learned that the wasabi often served in Japanese restaurants may actually be horsey-sauce with green food-coloring. Seriously? I know I like wasabi, or what is served as wasabi, but it’s typically only a part of sushi meals and maybe classy mashed potatoes.

Many gardeners have been down this path before. And many have noted the tenacity of the roots. Once you plant horseradish, they say, you will always have horseradish. That’s fine. Even if the condiment doesn’t rock my world, it feels like a good staple to have around.

Digging the root was more difficult than I expected. The tentacles sprouting from the crown seem to run in every conceivable direction and some were well over fourteen inches long. Even after uncovering what I assumed to be the majority of the root, pulling only resulted in snaps somewhere deep below the earth. This is why they say what they say about having horseradish forever.

I was able to extract a nice collection of root, replanted one section, and took the rest inside for processing. Horseradish really cleans up well after some washing and peeling. Then it was into the food processor with a bit of water and salt and then vinegar. Most sites advise processing outside or at least in a well ventilated area. The fumes can be powerful. I did open a few windows and was a little careful not to inhale too deeply. With all the warnings I read, I kind of expected it to be insane. It wasn’t insane. Maybe my horseradish is mild?

Now I need more recipes. I’d like to try it on some fish and perhaps in some mashed potatoes. I’ll be bringing it to Thanksgiving dinner so the connoisseurs of the family can tell me if it’s any good.

I like carrots. I wouldn’t say I love them or seek them out every day, but they can be a sweet, convenient, healthy snack. They add crunch to a salad. I’ve been known to drink carrot juice on occasion. If attending a pot luck and one of luckers brought a plate of cut vegetables with a ranch dipping sauce, I would likely take a carrot or two on my plate. Sure, I would rather take the raw broccoli, but it’s rarely cut to an appropriate bite size, and I have been told it’s not polite to dig through the stack of broccoli to find the pieces that are. Soups are often good with carrots. The carrot rarely encounters pests in the garden. I understand rabbits can be an issue, but not so much here. It’s a solid vegetable.

And so I was troubled this year with the carrot crop – not that they didn’t grow, because they grew just fine, wonderfully even. They just taste bad. Anne is holding out hope that with the frosty weather they will sweeten up a bit. I’m skeptical, but willing to keep trying them. And next year, a different variety will be ordered. Maybe a couple different varieties.

(click the movie poster for a larger view)

It’s a good time to plant garlic. I’m trying something new this year.

I think it’s good to try new approaches – break out of our flower pots, if you will. I know what you’re saying: “Alan, This will never work.” And you’re right. It won’t. But the journey is what’s important in the garden. Not what works or doesn’t work. “Yeh, but you won’t grow any garlic this way.” I totally see the point you are trying to make. You want me to be successful. Thanks, I appreciate it, but we all have different definitions of success. “And your definition of success is to fail miserably?” No! Of course not. I’m just saying we need not concern ourselves all the time with all the rules. Some of the time, sure, but garlic doesn’t like rules. Garlic likes to go dancing. Next year, I think I’ll take my garlic out clubbing before I plant it.

It’s nice to have too many tomatoes. This doesn’t always happen, so when it does I start looking for potentially delicious ways to consume them. I’ve had several absolutely perfect tomato sandwiches this year. I actually prefer the simple cheese + mayo+ tomato combination to the more classic BLT. But a sandwich really only uses one tomato, and I have many. Sauce is already made and frozen. We’ve given to friends and food banks (and to be honest, some of these season finale tomatoes are a little over-ripe).

Soup is an idea. Ketchup? Perhaps, but I don’t use that much ketchup unless I am eating fries. Fruit and veggie juices, on the other hand, if tasty, disappear rather quickly from the fridge.

The recipe is simple and not my own creation. As with all things, I learned this one on the Internet. These proportions are rough and can be adjusted to taste.

8 cups chopped tomatoes
1 cup chopped celery
1/3 cup chopped onion
1/4 cup chopped pepper
2 Tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon salt
(optional) 1 spicy pepper

Add all ingredients to a stainless steel pot and simmer from about 1/2 hour. Press through sieve or food mill. Chill in fridge. The site I found this recipe on mentions it lasting in the fridge for about a week to 10 days. It’s really quite refreshing.

Behold! The awesome yellow power of the lemon pepper!

Okay, you have that beheld? Good. You can stop now. I know, it’s difficult to turn your gaze away from the starburst tint that gives this pepper its name. The color is certainly lemony, but the flavor is so hot I might be missing out on what others describe as citrus tones. The hot lemon pepper rates surprisingly high on the Scoville chart. Some rank it akin to Cayenne while others place it nearer the mighty Habanero. If enough ripen before the heavy frost, they will make for an attractive pepper jelly.

In addition to the fiery lemons, I also planted sweet bells, purple cayenne (they start purple and green and ripen red), and habanero. The bell peppers ought to have been red (big red), but they are ripening orange/yellow. Either I planted some old seeds and mixed up my planting (entirely possible) or the red pepper seeds I ordered were not very red. The peppers have been sluggish this year.

Part of the sluggishness was gardener error. I planted them out before it was really warm enough and before the seedlings were big enough. That likely shocked them a bit. The bells also had too much competition from poppies. As pretty as the poppies were, I should have ripped them out. Or maybe that wouldn’t have made any difference. The green habaneros in the photo were picked from a casualty limb. All the pepper plants are heavy with peppers and without caging or staking, limbs will snap. All the pepper jam might come out green this year – maybe with a hint of purple.

Last winter, our frozen pesto became a favorite. It surpassed beans and even frozen tomatoes as the go-to ziplock of choice. Like tomatoes, pesto makes for wonderful pasta and pizza or even as a spread for those co-op bread, oil, cheese dinner nights.

I knew the making and freezing of more pesto would be essential this year. So I planted more basil – and more varieties just in case one sucked. As it turned out, both Italian Large Leaf and Purple Ruffle varieties are delicious. I seem to detect hints of mint in the Purple Ruffle, but my palette isn’t necessarily very educated.

Our pesto recipe is fairly standard. I just add olive oil, basil (although we’ve also had wonderful spinach pesto in the past), garlic, salt and lemon juice. I do it all to taste adding a bit at a time so as not to overwhelm with oil or lemon. We rarely have pinenuts, but if I happen to have them, they would be included. The cheese is purposely excluded since these batches are bound for the freezer. Cheese (usually shredded Parmesan) can always be added later. One more note, if you have different colors of basil, the final color of the pesto will be muddied if you mix them. So, if you are one to color coordinate your meals to your napkins and place settings, keep this in mind.

Cole crops like broccoli, brussel sprouts, cabbage and kohlrabi have always presented challenges. This year we are thrilled with our modest success!

The most troublesome is the cabbage worm. These green worms must be dealt with swiftly and often. Most people spray or powder, and two years ago we tried some of the Dipple, but we were neither consistent enough or swift enough. Another difficulty is their preference for cooler temps. Not much I can do about the weather, so I focused on the bug issue this year.

It’s a simple and inexpensive crop (row) cover made from old lace curtains sewn together. We found the lace at Goodwill and I did the sewing myself, thank you very much. The cabbage worm moths cannot penetrate the elegance of this drapery. And so they cannot lay their evil eggs that become the voracious worms. Perhaps next year we can try some cauliflower too.

Thinning veggies is often neglected as the act ends the potential of the sprout. Eating mature veggies, technically vegecide, doesn’t seem to bother anyone around here. The potential is so marvelous and unknowable. And even though we understand that this potential will never be achieved if left to compete with a carrot or beat rubbing elbows, we have traditionally been reluctant to thin.

I’m improving though. These carrots were satisfying to thin since we could actually make use of them. The radishes and beats were not quite so giving, and I still have a ways to go with squash, pumpkins and cucumbers. When five seeds sprout on a hill, I have difficulty deciding who stays and who goes. I then allow more to stay than I should. I rationalize that some might fall ill, or sustain dog or deer damage. Surely there is enough soil and nutrients for four, right?

In 2009 I visited The Oregon Garden in Silverton, OR. What I saw there made me want to rush home and do a large scale planting in that style. The Oregon Garden designers use mainly trees, shrubs and ground covers that look good all season, and very few ephemeral flowers- and they are obviously geniuses. If you ever find yourself in Oregon, Silverton is not a far drive from Portland and in my opinion, the gardens are much more interesting than anything else you’ll find in the area. Plus it is also a resort- a sort of Disneyland for people like me. Pictured below is my Oregon Garden-inspired planting. There are a few blooms here and there, but it is more about the contrast between high and low, leaf shape and color, and texture. It is proving to be much lower maintenance than our other perennial beds.