How Does Your Garden Grow? The Harvest

Containing more  Lessons from my Daughter and From My Son

The End for 2010

The last of the harvest has been eaten.  Tom cut four lone pieces of okra from the garden the end of  November and ate them raw, cut up into our mixed salad.  It was not enough for a mess and some folks would have just tossed them, or put them in the compost pile.

 But Tom is a  WWII baby, whose mother’s  voice still echoes in his head.  “Waste not, want not.....   You must belong to the Clean Plate Club..... Eat your food—just think about all those starving children in Africa.”

I hear a similar voice.  I could never understand, though,  about that starving children thing.  Why in the world couldn’t we send the food—which I DID NOT WANT---to the hungry children who so needed it?

First Harvest of the Season 2010

This year we planted a limited number of crops, unlike in past years.  The tomatoes and okra were givens, though not quite as much okra as in the past.   Peppers and fields peas rounded out the garden. My three favorite summer foods are tomatoes, okra and field peas.  I could eat them every meal. 

I do not eat peppers.  To be in the same room while Tom is cutting them up makes my eyes water.  Tom puts them in everything he eats and if,  by accident,  it is something I also am eating,  my mouth burns for hours.  Taking a hint from Jeff's cheese stuffed peppers dish, Tom also makes his own unique stuffed hot peppers, stuffing them with all kinds of cheeses, smoked oysters, crab meat, chopped shrimp, smoked salmon, tuna, minced clams and other interesting and unusual things.  The two tricks to this dish are to wear gloves during preparation (the more important of the two) and to roast them well  so that the intense heat is under control.  He freezes these individually on cookie sheets so that he can pull out one or two at a time to roast for his dinner.  

The only disappointment were the field peas.  They were heavenly tasting, but almost nonexistence. We planted four rows of them, two on one side of the garden and two on the other.  The rows on the right side yielded some every now and then, so that every few days we had gathered enough to cook a mini pot full.  Tom let me eat them all each time(about 3 spoonfuls), because I was the one who had begged to plant them this year.  The other two rows yielded nothing—not one pea.  The plants looked healthy and were heavy  with dark lush leaves.  That was it.  No peas. We are going to be more careful about the exact kind of field pea we try next year.  I think we will try two different kinds, maybe crowder  and pink eye peas, and keep track to see if either does better than this year.  If anybody had a recommendation, please let us know. I don't know if I can go another summer without fresh field peas.  On the other hand, Tom may be over it and have no interest in trying them again.  If you have read my previous gardening posts, you know that Tom is the master gardener and I am the sometimes helper—except for the summer of his hip replacement, when I was the worker bee under his rigorous oversight.  So if he says it’s a no-go, then we will be pealess next year.   

The tomatoes were .......... Wow!!

Sam & Madeline pick our tomatoes

We planted many heirlooms this year, harder to grow, but so worth it.  The whole experience is an affirmation that beauty is only skin deep.  Heirlooms  are open pollinated, not hybrids,  that look like they've grown wild. They're all different lumpy shapes and sizes, with scarred splits in the delicate skin and the flesh is firm, sweet, rich, lush, and smoky tasting. I love to eat them straight out of the garden, like apples, hanging over the sink with the juice dribbling down my chin. I have been excited to learn that, besides being funny looking

Davis & Tom

and tasting scrumptious,  they are  more nutritious, packed full of vitamins and antioxidants, than are  the more common hybrid varieties. Hybrids, on the other hand,  are cross pollinated, developed for commercial purposes--a uniform size to make them easy to pack,  with thick skins to be bug resistant, and to stand up under rough handling and for travel. Hybrids look uniformly, perfectly attractive, but are mealy, juiceless and drip free, manipulated for the sake of economics, taste be damned.

Our earliest harvest is always green tomatoes, picked  to thin the plants so that they will yield more. I have searched all my cookbooks and the internet for the best green tomato recipe to be had.  I am glad to share it with you.  The secret is the mustard mixture that you spread on the tomato before you fry it.  It is messy, but the spread adds a tang that makes this dish special.

Fried Green Tomatoes

This recipe is from Robert Lorino of The Irondale Café in Irondale, Alabama.This restaurant is the inspiration for Fannie Flag’s Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café.  The recipe is world famous.

2          Medium hard  green tomatoes, chilled

1          Tablespoon Dijon mustard

1          teaspoon sugar

½         teaspoon salt

¼         teaspoon paprika

1/8       teaspoon ground red pepper

 1 ½     teaspoons Worcestershire sauce

½         cup yellow cornmeal

¼         cup hot bacon drippings or vegetable oil

Cut tomatoes into ½ inch slices

Stir together mustard and next 5 ingredients.  Spread on both sides of tomato slices.  Coat with cornmeal.

Fry tomatoes in hot drippings (or oil) in skillet over medium heat 3 minutes on each side or until browned.  Drain.

Yummmm!!!

  We planted less of everything this year, so we only froze a few of our tomatoes and gave away those we couldn’t eat at three meals a day sliced, diced,  minced and roasted, in sandwiches, sauces, and stews.  The office attorneys and staff got lots and we had enough get ripe at once during the summer to serve them on Sunday in Finlay Park at Food Not Bombs.

Our wonderful preacher,  Neal, got the lion’s share though.  In fact, he called every Saturday night to remind us to bring him some. “You know my favorite food is a BLT sandwich,” he would say. He even wanted us to bring a bag of them and hang them on his office door on the Sundays he was not preaching.  There was a little catch in his voice the Saturday night we had to tell him the yield was  over and there would be no more tomatoes in the morning. He is a tomato glutton and I threatened to tell the Board to reduce his salary,  as we were paying part of it in produce, the old fashioned way. LOL.

He did not LOL.

Okra was our most prolific crop this year.  Originally from Africa, okra is a hot weather plant.  We put the seeds in the ground later than any of our other crops and it is the last to stop yielding—when the weather is below freezing for several nights in a row, usually in late November.  We use it in stews and gumbos and soups, but primarily we coat it with corn meal and deep fry it.  Fried okra is as Southern as fried catfish, fried chicken, fried pork chops, fried squash, and….fried green tomatoes.  Good as it tastes,  Tom and I have stopped eating fried food of any kind, switching to broiled or baked, for the sake of our health.  But fried okra--we just have not been able to give it up. Until this year.  In yet another of the Lessons From My Daughter, Jeny introduced us to a new way to cook okra.  It is healthy, less messy than fried,  and so tasty that we are never looking back. Sauteed okra is simple.

Sauteed Okra

Cut okra in slices as for frying. (If you have just washed it, pat it dry with paper towels, or wait for it to air dry).   Coat the sauté pan well with oil. On medium high heat, sauté the okra in pan  until brown on edges and slightly crisp, 4-6 minutes, stirring constantly so as not to burn. Lightly salt if desired.

There are more elaborate recipes with onion and various spices, but we all like it so well  plain we’ve not tried to fancy it up yet.  Maybe next year.

  Both of our children have turned into master gardeners and master chefs and their gardens include a wide variety of herbs to use in their cooking. Our garden in no way rivals theirs.   Jeny grows a wider variety of crops than we do, including a fall garden.

 Jeff plants cucumbers, and pumpkins, in addition to most of the same things we do. He plants  pumpkins and such for fun for the kids. Sam loves cucumber cookies. The Lessons from my Son in this blog post involve his turning his garden produce into highly sought-after gifts. His cucumber and okra pickles and  fresh salsa, made with his own tomatoes and peppers, are to die for and he makes many of us happy with his homemade Christmas and birthday gifts. The marvel of this is that he manages it at all, in a teeny plot on the side yard, raided frequently by their two large, rowdy family dogs.

Winter is here, the temperature is in the 20’s and  the garden is only a memory, except for a few frozen quarts of tomatoes in the freezer and some of Jeff’s pickles in the cupboard. We are already looking forward to next summer and so, I am told, is Neal.  He misses his BLT sandwiches. 

LESSONS FROM MY DAUGHTER 2

If you scratch Jeny, she bleeds green.  She is conscious of her family’s carbon footprint on the planet at all times.  She composts, plants a garden, recycles everything—glass, plastics, paper, clothes, toys, books. The family uses cloth napkins, one for each family member for three days, instead of stacks of paper ones.

We have been doing many of the same things for a long time, but Jeny always seems to be ahead of the curve. Just when I think I am doing pretty well, she will mention something that has yet to occur to me, or something I have thought about, but which has seemed too much trouble so far.

Both Jeny and I switched from plastic to canvas grocery bags long ago—with her leading the way. Tom and I bought a number of Publix bags and were off and running. For the longest time we had the bags, but would forget and leave them at home--in the house or in the garage--and be forced to use plastic again.  Finally we got in the habit of taking them back out to the car as soon as we emptied the trunk  and put up the groceries.  We felt really good about that. Problem was, we keep misplacing them.  We would leave one at Finlay Park when we went to feed the homeless on Sunday, or another at Penn Center at the church conference, or wherever……

I was complaining to Jeny one day about how much I was spending on replacing canvas bags because of our carelessness. “Mom, really! Are you buying canvas bags? There’s another whole way for you to think green!”  Well, that was sure beyond me.  What more could we do?  I was not quite willing to put the groceries into the car one by one without using a bag at all.

“Go to the middle bedroom and look in your closet”, she said. What was that all about, I thought? Clueless, I marched in and took a look.  There they were shoved up on the corner shelf.   The stack of empty, canvas bags I had collected from conferences, recently, and over the years.  C-Span, Trial Lawyers, The Democratic Party, Palmetto Health, Interfaith Alliance, Pro-Law, and, the most recent one from just two weeks ago, Robert Ford for Governor. All colors, all shapes, all sizes.  Waiting to be recycled. Waiting to be filled with groceries. 

Why hadn’t I thought of that? Another lesson from my daughter.   

LESSONS FROM MY DAUGHTER 1

Remember that great book by Robert Fulghum, "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten?" If you have never read it, do. It is on my top 20 list, which I will talk more about in later posts. But I digress.

The reason I brought it up is because I could write a book like that called "All I Really Need to Know I Learned From Jeny." Jeny is my daughter who lives in Atlanta with Gil and Davis and Elliot and Junie and Martin. Davis and Elliot are her girls. Junie and Martin are her dogs. Gil is her husband.

Jeny often says things with great conviction.  She analyzes situations; declares her stand on things firmly and has strong logic for her position.  For instance, she said she was never going to have dogs because they shed on the furniture; they aggravated, perhaps even caused allergies; they were dirty and I don't know what all else.

This year she changed her mind.  The family rescued Junie.  They liked her. Jeny gushed, like all new parents do. 

She placed pictures of Junie all over her facebook.  She sent pictures of Junie to the grandparents--almost as many as of Davis and Elliot.  Junie had a birthday party with all the neighborhood doggies as guests.  No, really.  There are pictures.

Junie needed a little friend and they have now rescued Martin.  He is as cute as Junie is.  He looks at least as much like a bunny as he does a dog.

I believe that they will live happily ever after.

The lesson I learned from Jeny here is that, truth be told, Ralph Waldo Emerson was right when he said  "A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds."  I love it when something I taught tenth graders in GREAT ESSAYS springs to life like that.

Jeny, you are so busted!