The City Gardener is back this year and better than ever– well, we’ll see about that. I am hoping the last freeze has past– a wicked hail storm last week makes me glad I didn’t go out planting when it was 70 degrees F the week before. What a way to kill the greens. It’s a mild 54 today so I did some preliminary indoor work: thyme, lettuce leaf basil, lavender and a little cat nip. We’ll see how it develops in the kitchen window (above).

Seeds from Baker Creek arrived a few weeks back: Oriole Orange Swiss Chard, Sugar Snap Peas, Curly Endive and Rocket Arugula. No tomatoes since I don’t really get enough sun and the squirrels and old women tend to be a nuisance. I also threw in some Sunchokes that my uncle in California sent over. They look pretty undesirable from above ground so I shouldn’t have a problem.

A local composting friend is so kind as to donate me a bucket of compost. Once it gets granny carted over… let the gardening begin!

The above photo proves that every living creature loves fresh grown vegetables– Even better if we can agree to love different parts.

There is no time like the present to begin planning your garden for the coming summer. My wee bucket garden (see last year’s progress here) will make a comeback this summer with some much needed reinforcement from the local CSA I’m helping to start up in my neighborhood. I am happy to report that the farm my CSA chapter is pairing with is located in wine country and perhaps with a little convincing, I can get my farmers to set me up with a wine supply! If not, I am happy to visit the farm on strawberry picking days and swing back to the vineyards for some bottles on the way home.

For those who are unfamiliar with CSAs, it stands for Community Supported Agriculture and is available in and around most cities. A community gets together and pairs with a local farmer, agreeing to pay the farmer in advance to receive a “share” of produce throughout the growing season. With this system, the already expensive and laborious process of organic farming is ensured to be profitable for the farmer, allowing them to concentrate on farming, not worrying about the possibility of selling land to developers or something else.

The greatest benefit is that the local CSA chapter gets to know their farmer while building a community that is often lacking in urban areas: you know where your food is coming from on a more personal level than a green market, you are supporting a local farmer, you’re eating healthier, fresher food, etc etc. If there is an excellent season and a bounty, each CSA benefits. The downfall is if there is a drought, flood, etc, you suffer just as much as the farmer. Also, there is less choice than a greenmarket: you get whatever the farmer is growing. I still believe the benefits outweigh the negatives in this age of industrial uncertainty, and besides, fresh food just tastes better.

Local Harvest provides additional information on CSAs and how to find one in your area.

This summer, because of my CSA, I can concentrate on growing some of my favorite items that my farmers will not be offering me. I still must keep in mind tomato thieves and the more unusual chickenwire thieves (which I now suspect might have been for a Meth lab)— how the imagination wanders when perpetrators lurk nearby.

Last year, with some advice from a fellow blogger, I ordered seeds from Baker Creek Heirloom. They have a fabulous variety of basic and more unusual (heirloom) plants. My radish plants did fairly well last season and I will order more of those, though I might try a new variety. Final order report tk in the coming days.

When ordering seeds, keep in mind the amount of light your space gets. My outdoor space is fairly shady and I have to make due with this. No worries, there are plenty of plants that do well in low-light conditions and should be mentioned in the plant’s description, my favorite is arugula. Also, don’t forget to check your planting zone and match it up to your seeding times. This also helps when finding plants that will grow in your area.

If you live in an urban area and are looking to start your own bucket garden, Texas A&M’s Agriculture Dept offers some pointers with hilariously outdated computer clip art. Another good site I found has great tips for more unusual growing containers (from discarded tires to wading pools and feed sacks). The site really encourages community gardens, though the information can apply to setting up a personal garden in limited spaces. Keep in mind that the site is a bit old and can get a little hard to navigate. The National Gardening Association is another great resource with tons of general information.

If you have a large space for a proper garden. I’m jealous– Go find your own help! (Or use some of the references above.) Get excited for the growing season to come.

Last year, I read so much about the little Sunchoke that I grew overwhelmed with joy when they finally appeared at the market. I bought a bunch and made some hearty soup that whisked away cold days. The sunchoke is hearty, sweet and not only tastes great raw, but is a great substitute for the potato.

Over the holidays I was around San Francisco visiting family. My uncle is taking a Master Gardening class and over the years built a substantial garden on his property. It is one that I am extremely jealous of and if he happened to have an avocado tree I would seriously consider moving in. Still, it does include blueberry and raspberry bushes, plum trees and strawberries all for my grandmother to make jams from (nothing but fruit and sugar, not even water she’ll proudly tell you multiple times), tons of nasturtium flowers (that my uncle says proliferate like weeds), herbs of all kinds, artichokes, sunflowers, grape vines, tomatoes, a massive worm farm for compost, roses, a myer lemon tree and sunchokes.

He showed me around his garden saying most of what he has is just for play: he plants things and watches how they grow, rarely harvesting anything. One morning, I nabbed one of the last non-flowered artichokes for myself and boiled it up. I don’t think there is anything more tasty and satisfying than eating something straight from a garden. He showed me the sunchoke bin, telling me they grew so robustly that the bin almost burst. He dug some up to show me there was literally wall-to-wall sunchokes growing underneath the dirt.

The next day while sauerkraut and ham was being served, I ran out to the garden and grabbed a handful of sunchokes and clipped some lavender leaves. I sliced the sunchokes thin and sauteed them until crisp with lots of butter, garlic and the lavender. My grandmother and mother were both pleasantly surprised at this previous unknown vegetable and refused to share them with anyone. I was pleasantly surprised at the mild taste of the lavender with the sunchokes.

My uncle gave me a bag of sunchokes to take home and plant in my own (pathetic in comparison) bucket garden. They are perfect because from the outset they appear to be weeds– perfect in a city where old ladies steel my tomatoes and chicken wire. They are safely hibernating and will hopefully produce well come harvest next fall.

In the meantime, it’s difficult to let a bag of fresh organic sunchokes go untouched. I made this salad for dinner the other day and D surprisingly applauded it (when I initially told him the ingredients he said the salad sounded like “weird girly veggie mush”). I’m not totally sure I know what that classifies as (I think zucchini is on the “veggie mush” list though), but once he ate this he assured me he would eat it again– especially the sunchokes!

This is a visually stunning winter salad. It is hearty and really shows off that winter food can be just as beautiful as summer food. It also has fabulous texture layers and an interesting array of flavors. If you are dexterous you can cut down on cook time by sauteing the mushroom at the same time as frying the sunchok (since the sunchokes only take about 2 minutes in the oil).

Sunchoke Salad
Serves 2. Active time= about 30 minutes.
* 1 cup green beans, cut into 1 inch spears
*1 head endive, sliced thin
* 1 yellow pepper, left whole
* 1 portabello mushroom, sliced into 1/2 inch shoots
* 1 cup vegetable oil (more or less depending on pan)
* 1 sunchoke, well scrubbed and sliced into 1/8 inch rounds
* 1 tablespoon goat cheese
* 4-6 grape tomatoes

1) On the serving plate/ bowl, arrange green beans and endive.
2) Prep: Set a paper bag in a bowl aside. Set paper towels on a plate aside.
3) Roast the yellow pepper: Using long metal tongs, set pepper over burner set on medium-high flame. Rotate the pepper until all sides are blackened, about 6 minutes total (this only works with gas stoves as an open flame is needed. Another option is to dry roast the pepper on a non-stick pan until blackened). Place the pepper into the paper bag and seal. Set aside. This completes the pepper’s cooking.
4) In a small pan on medium heat, saute the portabello mushroom. While the mushroom is cooking, put the vegetable oil in a medium sauce pan on high heat. While oil is warming, finish the mushrooms, cooking until reduced and darkened, about 8 minutes. Arrange the mushrooms on the serving plate.
5) When the oil is hot, fry the sunchokes quickly, removing when they turn brown around the edges. About 2-3 minutes total should turn them crisp. Remove from oil, place on the napkin covered plate and sprinkle lightly with salt.
6) Remove the yellow (now blackened) pepper from the paper bag. The skin will begin to flake off. For fast removal, place whole pepper under lukewarm water, gently rubbing ashes from the pepper. Dry off and slice into 1/2 inch spears, add to serving plate.
7) Sprinkle grape tomatoes over salad arrangement. Add goat cheese in a single lump. Spear sunchokes into the goat cheese to allow the sunchoke chips to stand verticle. Top salad with olive oil, a light sprinkle of salt and a spritz of lemon (optional). Any more dressing would ruin the flavors in this salad.

The chicken wire that surrounded my bucket garden may have been stolen, the tomatoes have passed their prime– no longer providing fruit, the remaining Swiss chard (now unprotected) was torn apart by critters and the last of the lettuce was fried by the last heat wave. But I still got it.

If there is one thing that many humans are too stupid to steal it is a short green, fairly plain looking plant.

If there is one thing that animals cannot stand to eat it is a bitter treat.

A whole bucket of arugula is the lone survivor of my summer city gardening experiment. Without roof, without balcony, without anything more than chicken wire and two feet of semi-sunny pavement between the outside world and five buckets, I did quite well for myself: (tango and lollo) lettuce and tomatoes, White Hailstone Radish, and some Swiss chard (back in the chicken wire protection days).

In hopes of a possible garden resurgence I sprinkled the remaining arugula and radish seeds over the cleared buckets. Both vegetables prefer cooler days so hopefully the turn of weather will keep the growth alive. Until then, I’ll be dreaming about this sweet and bitter late-season salad.

ARUGULA PEACH SALAD
Serving Size= 2 persons. Active time= about 10 minutes.
* 2 handfuls fresh arugula
* 1 ear fresh corn, kernels cut off ear
* 1 fresh peach, cut into 8 wedges
* 1 handful green beans
* 2 Kalamata olives
* fresh Parmesan shavings
* apple cider vinegar
* juice of 1 lime
* salt/ pepper to taste

1) In a medium pan on medium heat, warm 2 tsp olive oil. Once warm, add shaved corn kernels and green beans. Sauté about 4 minutes; until corn and green beans darken.
2) Add beans and corn over bed of arugula.
3) Toss peach wedges over top, add olives and Parmesan shavings.
4) Just before serving, whisk together apple cider vinegar and lime juice. Pour over top and top with fresh pepper and salt to taste.

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Tags: gardening

My latest pickings from the bucket garden include the above pictured fresh fare. Crisp lettuce mixtures held up nicely with my new favorite dressing: basil vinaigrette (also complements of the garden and go fabulous with some fast cooked squid). The lettuce, as well as the bright ball of a tomato, were a great finishing point to some beach-brought sandwiches, holding up well under the heat.

But another low point has hit the buckets.

After a quick sojourn to the Midwest (how could I miss an invitation to the Indiana State Fair?!), D and I have returned to find the buckets tampered with– the chicken wire, added for protection, has been removed by an unknown force. I have yet to make contact with the neighbor to see if she can help with the investigation. Can anyone solve this quandary? (Luckily, the lettuce and tomato were picked before leaving as there is now little left of the bucket bounty.)

I must now seek out new chicken wire. Until then, the tomatoes will be picked over by the squirrels (and the aging) and the lettuce will be testaments to the sun. Thankfully, nobody finds my arugula or swiss chard particularly appealing.

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My first personal (known) encounter with Swiss chard was the other year. While I am sure I have dined on it in restaurants, I had never sought to purchase the funky colored vegetable before. While at the grocery, the vegetable caught my eye and I scooped it into my basket. As D often does when he notices I am plucking items for their unique beauty rather than possible utility he queried what we could make with it. “I don’t know, but we’ll think of something.”

We turned “something” into Braised Swiss Chard wrapped in Sole. Swiss chard’s bitter sweetness won us over and D rarely questioned my random fruit and vegetable acquisitions again.

Over the months the rainbow vegetable remained on my mind and I eventually bought seeds for planting them when the bucket garden was a mere dream. They would soon sprout into their glory and remain a site as the stalks matured.

One day, impatient for my own chard to mature, I hit up the vegetable market for a bunch. They became a perfect accent to a delicious cold summer soup.

Finally the glory of my rainbow swiss chard in the buckets was breathtaking. Glowing yellows, radiant reds and electric pinks made the calling to me. I plucked them from their buckets and presented them to D. What to make when the temperature is too hot to handle the kitchen? Some quick and easy pasta, requiring minimal cooking.

As residents of Queens suffered through blackouts in the high temperatures D and I considered ourselves fortunate with our minimized power—at least we still had the refrigerator (and if that failed a few buckets of bounty outside). We ran to the grocery to pick up fresh pasta. Requiring a mere 2 minute boiling time, it would serve as an ideal backdrop to a cold dish.

Whipping up a large batch of pasta, D and I had a fresh meal to last us through the week; no stovetops required.

GARDEN PASTAspan>
Serving Size= 6-8 persons. Active time= 10 minutes.
* 2 pounds fresh spinach pasta
* 1 bunch rainbow swiss chard, loosely chopped
* 1- 15 ounce can garbanzo beans (chick peas), washed and drained
* 1 red bell pepper, sliced into ¼-inch strips
* 1 medium Spanish onion, chopped
* 3 large garlic cloves, crushed
* ½ cup fresh firm ricotta cheese, crumbled
* ½ cup kalamata olives
* 2 Tbl olive oil

1) In a sauce pot on medium-high heat, bring salted water to a boil. Add pasta, cover and cook for 2 minutes. Remove from heat, wash and drain. Set aside in a large bowl.
2) In a large skillet on medium heat, warm 2 Tbl olive oil. Add pepper, onion, garlic and cook until aroma is loosened (about 3 minutes). Add swiss chard, cover and cook until leaves wilt (4-6 minutes).
3) Add swiss chard, peppers, onions, garlic, garbanzo beans, ricotta and olives to pasta. Serve warm or cold.

Below is Kitty and her beloved squirrel toy. We train her to search and destroy these little critters that attack my garden—if only she were allowed outside to put her training work. The glazed look in her eye? We get her good and high so she can forget her killer instinct (the squirrel is full of catnip). Check out this weekend’s cat antic WCB over at Eat Stuff.

With the last City Gardener I showed you the bounty of my radish. These delicious little roots offered a crisp delightfulness to the perfect summer sandwich as well as highlighted an odd salad. To date, there is new form in the garden:

1) Please notice the hideous fencing (above and below) that surrounds my wee buckets. My neighbor noticed: “No more people will steal your tomatoes now!” Well, hopefully not.

With today’s watering I did notice a “casual onlooker” (see sketch below). I held back as she eyed my vegetables and Kitty hissed from inside (what can I say, she likes her fresh vegetables). With a double take she noticed me, smiled, and continued her journey. (It is quite possible this woman is just an admirer of gardens but with my witnessed tomato snatcher from last year, caution and paranoia must be taken.)

If you have your own garden and live in the tri-State area, I bid you to keep an eye out for the Garden Offender (sketch taken minutes after encounter at left). Take notice of her unevenly applied magenta lipstick, soiled white hat that covers her eyes and off-white t-shirt. She may be armed with garden sheers and should be considered dangerous. Now that she is on my radar I have other pests, namely squirrels to watch for. Evidence?

2) With the addition of fencing, the lettuce is shooting for the stars. Where previously I had not taken account of the gnarled leafy stalks, they now are coming together quite nicely.

3) 3 buckets are without fencing. These buckets once contained radish. You might recall when starting my garden indoors I planted arugula, 3 kinds of lettuce and beets. Much of it died before it could be transferred outdoors. I transferred the survivors outside and awaited growth. Now that I have harvested radish, I threw some arugula, the last of the swiss chard seeds and the remaining lettuce seeds on the open buckets. Sprouts happen and fencing must be purchased.

4) A confession: I never put buckets on the roof. While my landlords gave me the go-ahead (probably because they knew I would have done it anyway), I eventually was too lazy to carry buckets, soil and seedlings to the roof. The realization that I would also have to carry gallons of water up a ladder to the roof cemented my decision that I should concentrate on the land buckets. Leaving for three weeks and knowing my mother would carry no ladders helped too—who could have predicted those three weeks would be the wettest of the season?

PHOTOS: The top photo is (left to right): Tango Lettuce, Rainbow Swiss Chard sprouts, full Rainbow Swiss Chard.
The bottom photo is (left to right): Tomato, Arugula, Lolla Lettuce, Swiss Chard sprouts.

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One morning as I checked my tomato bucket, my neighbor revealed that she had been watering my garden. I eyed her slyly before I made a quick scan of my produce, everything seemed to be in check and unharmed. I thanked her and continued to coo my tomatoes into fruit. I must remember to keep my eye on her.

After weeks of patiently waiting, soothing, encouraging and ensuring the best health possible for my little bucket garden, a few things are revealed. Of course, the most obvious from this photo, is that the radish have come into their own. This was not without some questioning on my part:

A few days back I noticed the leaves of the radish taking form. Growing and growing until sweet little white blooms made their way out. I thought back to the radishes I sometimes purchase at greenmarkets, recalling that no blossoms were ever found. I pushed the soil back a little to reveal the radish bulb, only to see a whitish-green globe. Each day I proceeded to check the radish wondering why they had yet to blush into the rosey hue I expected of their species.

I went online to Baker Creek Heirloom where I purchased the seeds. I looked through the radishes offered, but could not remember which I had ordered. I noticed the White Hailstone. The description sounded like something I would purchase: “superb… best tasting… mild and crisp.” These are a white radish, similar looking to the ones in my bucket.

When I arrived home that night I thumbed through my receipts to confirm my suspicion; I had growing perfectly ripe White Hailstone Radishes. Harvest time.

But now we move on to news a little bit more depressing. All my notes-to-self to purchase chicken wire has gone too long. As I sat one day brushing my hand lightly over my lettuce I turned to D and asked why he thought it was hardly growing. That in fact, it looked like it had receded from the height we left it at pre-vacation. He stooped down, put his nose right up to the greens and proclaimed, “it’s gone.”

“What?”
“Gone. It looks like it has been clipped off.”

Sure enough, the only lettuce at an edible height were the few in the center of the bucket. Upon closer inspection we noticed tear marks. It seems the squirrels that live in the tree out front have been having a refreshingly delicious spring. A new round will shortly be attempted once chicken wire is purchased.

To leave this on a happy note, the recent rain is doing beautiful things to my Rainbow Chard. Even better, the squirrels don’t seem to care for it.

Oh, and as noticed from the photo above, Kitty likes her radish too! See more WCB over at Eat Stuff.

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Leave a garden at rest and kabam, it’s a crazy jungle out there.

I thought for sure leaving for 3 weeks would destroy all efforts I had put into my little buckets of life. I figured my mother, though she taught me to garden, would be too consumed with indoor plants, cats and the general being of New York City, to tend to my little outdoor plot. And she was.

Lucky me. The three weeks I was away seemed to be not so unusually wet spring weather. The radish are popping out of their skins, the tomatoes have shot up (must remember to beat away old ladies), the rainbow chard is slowly making progress, and for some reason, that lettuce that was supposed to be a quick 4 week process is struggling into life—though still moving.

One day this little City Garden will make it onto a plate. One day those radish will blush their white away. One day that Swiss chard will decide to grow in grand uniform style. One day that lettuce will… well, grow. One day those tomatoes will blossom into fruit. One day…

Until that day I will hope and pray that my leaving nature to do the trick will provide me with maybe 4 salads. Until then I will pull the tiny weeds, water when I can remember, and gently stroke and sooth my babies into growth as I depart each morning for work (yes, I pay them a visit every morning).

And until that day my little kitchen windowsill full of herbs will have to sooth my green dreams. These too, having avoided the chopping block for three weeks, have shot up. Basil is booming, rosemary is blooming, mint is creeping and sage is swaying. That’s another story for another night.

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Here is a good final send-off, the last of my city garden, for now anyway. While D and I are leave for our epic voyage (locations yet to be disclosed), my mother will be taking the reins around here. Ever so nice to fly in from Chicago, mom will hold down the fort, care for the kitty parade, enjoy the garden bounty, nurse ailing orchids, and delve into whatever other household matters she may care to cover (I overheard a rumor about a stove cleaning).

So here it is. The picture of my inability to rush Mother Nature and my cornucopia of lettuce. Holding a purgatory of semi-stale growth we have lettuce, radishes, tomatoes and Swiss chard—actually, the radishes are doing quite nicely (background), and will hopefully hold out for my return. And though I previously mentioned being fearful of planting more tomatoes, maybe I can keep the odd 80-year-old-purple-haired predator away upon my return— electric fence?

So here you see it and soon neither you nor I will. As my mother has no digital camera, I cannot ask her to keep up the photo montage– the camera will be in my hands. Her task is to eat and enjoy the freshness of my labors.

The City Gardener will be up and running in three weeks time. Until then… I ask you to hold out for the odd reports from abroad.

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