Two Foodie Interludes

April is galloping along and will be over soon. This has been a time of intense garden work, which is why I haven’t written much. At the moment, besides the work outdoors, I have been transplanting like mad into individual pots. I have finished almost all the eggplants and peppers. I still have about half of the tomatoes to move. Fortunately, the new grow cart has plenty of room, so I can work more calmly. If the temperatures remain consistent, I may even be able to skip the step of moving the tomatoes to the greenhouse. I may get away with just bringing the plants indoors at night for a week or so. That would be great.

Katie with her book

If you know me or have been reading this blog, you will know that there is a deep connection between my love of gardening and my love of food. This month, I enjoyed two interesting events in the food department. Early in the month, I attended a book signing for “Food of the Italian South” by Katie Parla. Katie, a New Jersey native, has been living in Rome for about 15 years now. In that time, she has established herself as a tour guide, food and drink journalist, cookbook author and all around expert on the food scene in Rome particularly and Italy in general. I have followed her online for many years. I even had the chance to take a tour with her when I visited Rome with a Delbarton group in 2011. I am a big fan of Katie’s and recommend her website to anyone visiting Rome. Suffice it to say, she has the job I would have wanted for myself – had God not had other plans.

Katie chatting with guests

The book signing took place at the Bell Market in Holmdel. Unfortunately, it was on a Friday evening with a 5:30 start. This being New Jersey, the traffic was horrendous. A trip that should have taken just an hour ended up being an hour and forty minutes. Fortunately, I had given myself plenty of time. I found a place to park and went inside. The event was being held at Corbo and Sons, an artisanal pizza place. I checked in and made my way inside. There was a nice crowd, but certainly not large. I procured a glass of wine for myself and grabbed some antipasto. I saw Katie off to one side with a woman, whom I recognized from Katie’s blog as her mother. I was waiting for a discrete moment to get my books signed – I had both of Katie’s cookbooks with me, the current one and her earlier one on the food of Rome.  Eventually she was alone so I went up and introduced myself. We chatted for a bit, mostly about Rome. I then asked her to sign my books. She was a bit surprised when she saw the Rome book. I explained that I had been unable to attend a book signing for that one. She was very charming and graciously personalized the message in each one. A glance over my shoulder told me that a line was forming, so I thanked her and made way for the next fans.

Pizza oven at Corbo & Sons

By now, the pizza was beginning to come out of the impressive pizza oven. It was typical Roman style pizza – not something you see very often in the States. It not only looked authentic, but it also tasted like the real thing! I was trying very hard not to look too eager, but I wanted to taste all the varieties that were coming out of the oven. Unfortunately, so did all the other guests. While waiting my turn, I fell into conversation with a woman who turned out to be the owner’s wife. She gave me the whole history of his passion for pizza that had led him to this relatively new venture. She seemed delighted when I raved about the pizza and how much it tasted like true Roman pizza.

Proudly posing with Katie Parla

By this time, it was after 7:00, so I grabbed one more piece of pizza for the road. On my way out, I managed to get a picture with Katie. I returned home very happy with how the evening had gone. I was back at the Hobbit House in plenty of time for my regular Friday night appointment with “Midsommer Murders” on PBS.

To be continued . . .

Emergence!

When I started working the ground in the garden this Spring, it felt strangely mechanical. Every other year I had experienced a kind of exhilaration. I began to wonder whether my passion for the garden had waned, or worse, that it was an illusion. I wondered, too, whether taking a year off had exposed my gardening more as a ‘habit’ than an essential part of my life, which truly fed my soul. It was an existential crisis for me. But, I kept at it. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

As I mentioned in my last post, early Spring has been unusually dry this year. The favorable  conditions have allowed me to open up a lot of ground in the garden and get things planted. However, with little or no rainfall, the seeds basically have just been sitting there doing nothing. Last Friday, however, we finally had a good soaking rain. When the sun came out on Saturday morning, the seeds all began to emerge. It was as if someone had flipped a switch. It helped, too, that the weather was quite mild. We had abundant sunshine and temperatures in the 70’s both Saturday and Sunday. Seeing those shoots sprout from the earth was all I needed. It was as if someone had flipped switch inside me, too.  That sense of exhilaration, that sense of participating in the act of creation, came flooding back. Like the earth waking from its winter slumber, I was being reborn as well.

Seedlings outside hardening off.

I was able to do some transplanting on Saturday, but stopped when the weather turned so warm. Parsley, kohlrabi and dandelions were all sufficiently hardened-off to go out in the open. I did plant some more seeds, though – Chioggia beets and a first try at some bush beans. I know well that planting beans so early in the season is a big gamble, but if they make it, we’ll be eating fresh beans in June! If not, I’ll be out a few hundred seeds. Clouds began rolling in on Sunday afternoon and more rain was predicted, so I decided to finish my transplanting. All the parsley, kohlrabi and most of the dandelion seedlings found a new home in the great outdoors. Just as predicted, the heavens opened up around 4:00 a.m. Monday morning in a glorious display of thunder and lightning. I could roll over and go back to sleep contentedly knowing that my seedlings were being watered in.

In the foreground, eggplants ready to be moved

Speaking of seedlings, operations in the mudroom are in high gear. At this point, all the warm weather vegetables – eggplants, peppers and tomatoes have been seeded. Cool weather crops, more parsley, dill and a few morning glories are up and growing. I seeded the first flat of basil yesterday and will do another soon. The task now, however, is transplanting the seedlings into individual pots. Years ago I discovered a handy little item called a PotMaker (another kind may soon be possible here in the Garden State!). The PotMaker is a wooden cylinder with a base that allows you to make pots out of newspaper. These pots can then be planted directly into the ground, where the newspaper disintegrates. I love this gadget, because not only is it environmentally friendly, but also because it allows me to create as many pots as I need at no cost. When I was moving back into the mudroom, I saw the PotMaker in the box with other odds and ends. Finally, last week, the eggplants were outgrowing their containers. It was time to start potting them up! I reached into the box of miscellaneous items and pulled out the Pot maker, which I had wrapped in newspaper. When I unwrapped it, I discovered, to my horror, that the base was missing! I had the cylinder but not the base. What to do?

The PotMaker

 Amazon Prime to the rescue. I Googled it on my phone and, since it was before 8:00 am, I was promised delivery the next day. Boom! Done. So now, I have a brand new PotMaker and I have been hard at work. I timed it yesterday; and it takes me roughly one hour to make a flat full of pots (36) and fill them.

The next step is to move the newly potted plants to the greenhouse in Trinity Hall, the main school building. They will stay there until nighttime temperatures begin to move into the 50’s, usually around mid-May. I have a sneaking suspicion, however, that it might be earlier this year. That would be a good thing. The earlier I can get these plants into the ground, the earlier I can start harvesting from them. After all, that’s what this is really all about.

Planting time is here!

The renovated mudroom

With the arrival of Spring, the rhythm of my days changes dramatically. Actually, the change begins several weeks before the chronological arrival of Spring. Let me explain. When I began to be more involved in the planning of the abbey’s vegetable garden back in the mid-eighties, I began experimenting with starting some plants from seed. Before then, we usually purchased our plants from a garden center. These would be the plants that cannot be direct seeded here in New Jersey, such as tomatoes, peppers, eggplants and delicate herbs like basil. That was perfectly adequate, but one was always at the mercy of what one could find. In order to get more control over the varieties I wanted, I realized that starting the plants from seed was the way to go. With the guidance of Nancy Bubel’s excellent “Seed Starters Handbook”, I rigged up an improvised growing system in the abbey’s mudroom in the basement. I don’t remember all that much about what it was like, other than it involved an old fluorescent shop light. What I do remember very well however, was using our old, abandoned VW van as a makeshift greenhouse! As the years went on, I perfected my seed-starting technique and I now grow about 50% of the garden plants from seed. This year, I am blessed to be starting my seeds in our newly renovated mudroom with a professional grow cart and a new counter top sink and work space. It’s a gardener’s heaven.

Seedlings on the Grow-Cart

Seedlings, if you don’t know, are like pets. They require a certain amount of attention each day. Once the seeds have sprouted they are very delicate; one has to be extremely careful that they don’t dry out. This involves both adding water to the container when necessary and misting them. I typically check on the seedlings twice a day: once after morning prayers and then after Compline in the evening. If I am in the area, I will peek in on them during the day as well.  Another factor is light. Even on a professional grow cart, the lights burn more brightly in the center of the tube and the young plans strain to get as much light as possible. They naturally grow towards where the light is brightest, so they need to be rotated regularly, especially when they are very young. Then, once they have two full sets of leaves, they need to be transplanted into individual pots. This is where the work begins to intensify. Despite my best efforts to stagger my planting, I always seem to have more plants that should be moving into their own “homes” than I have time. That point is fast approaching. I’m hoping that this year will be better!

Onions planted in the garden

In my last post, I wrote about how Spring seemed to be delayed because of the early March snow and cold spell. Well, if March came in like a lion, it definitely went out like a lamb. The last 10 days of March were uncharacteristically dry. It was not particularly warm, but it was sunny and windy. As a result, I have been able to get into the actual garden much earlier than usual. With the help of my trusty roto-tiller, I have opened up about ten rows in the ground already. I am particularly happy that I have been able to till a few rows at the bottom of the garden, the part that is the wettest. It is the ideal spot for many spring crops like onions, beets, turnips and radishes. Most years, however, it remains too wet to work in until May. I’m keeping my fingers crossed, but if the weather continues to cooperate, we should have a nice harvest of vegetables earlier than usual. As an experienced gardener, however, I know that that is a big ‘if’. So far, I have planted in the ground: snow peas; fava beans, radishes, beets, lettuce, kohlrabi, Swiss chard, turnips and red torpedo onions. I have about 6 dozen parsley plants that I started from seed along with an equal number of chicory (dandelion) plants. They are just about ready to go outside. They just need a few more days of toughening up. I hope to have them in the ground by the weekend.

Skunk Cabbage and other signs of Spring

The Cottage on Monday, March 4

Spring’s arrival this year has been rather atypical. While the winter past was not particularly severe and without a truly major snowstorm, it still manifested some unusual features. With one notable exception  in very early February, there were none of those “warm spells” that are a regular feature of winter in the Northeast. Then, we had a significant snowfall (though nothing exceptional) on March 4th that was followed by a cold snap. That left the ground snow-covered until mid-March. So, when the snow finally melted, Mother Nature had a bit of catching up to do. And, as March progressed, temperatures remained seasonal at best. Finally, at the very end of the month, there were a few warm days. It seemed that perhaps Spring had arrived, at last.

Crocus

Here in Northern New Jersey, there are several sure signs of the arrival of Spring. Most will be familiar. One would be the return of the robins. This has become a less reliable predictor in recent years. With the gradual warming, the migration patterns of robins has become less consistent. Without snow cover and extreme cold, I saw a few robins on and off for most of the winter this year. They did return in large numbers just in time for the early March snow; but I must give them credit. They hung in there. Then there are the flocks of Canada geese winging their way northwards. This phenomenon began fairly punctually in mid-March and continues. Last, but not least, is the blooming of the snowbells and crocus. These hardy flowers emerged extremely late, only making their appearance here at Delbarton in the last week of the month. I have to admit, though, I love seeing the crocus. Their bright colors and perkiness almost bring a smile to my face. I also get a kick out of their tendency to “wander”, showing up in spots where they were not planted. In my opinion, you can never have enough crocus!

Skunk Cabbage habitat

Nothing, however, says Spring to me like the emergence of Symplocarpus foetidus - skunk cabbage. This plant is a flowering perennial and here at Delbarton it is truly the first thing to appear. It grows in wetlands and along streams, of which we have an abundance. The reason it appears so early is interesting. According to the Wildlife Federation website: “Skunk cabbage has a remarkable ability to produce heat that allows it to emerge and bloom even when the ground is still frozen. During the winter when temperatures are freezing, the flower buds can warm up to 70 degrees Fahrenheit, which melts the snow around the plant. Pollinated flower heads develop berry-like fruits containing seeds, which germinate into new skunk cabbages the next growing season. Skunk cabbage leaves decay rather quickly. The leaves have high water content, so there is less plant matter to dry out and decompose. A skunk cabbage loses its leaves annually, but the plant itself can live up to 20 years.” How’s that for adaption? For what it’s worth, however, even the skunk cabbage was late to appear this year.

The mysterious snathe

As the month wore on, I scanned all the usual places for any sign of that mottled maroon hood-like growth, which I learned is called a spathe. This phase of the plant’s growth has always intrigued me visually. It emerges from the earth looking like the head of a seductive cobra, the outer leaves wrapped protectively around the flower stalk. Still, nothing. At one point, I began to worry that perhaps there would be no skunk cabbage this year. It usually appears just as the moss on fallen trees begins to turn from tawny brown to green, and that was already happening. Then, on one of my walks in Jockey Hollow National Park, I espied my dilatory friend in a wetland area in the woods. My heart sang. Once again, the cycle of nature was renewing itself. Spring would indeed come.