Cooking with Garlic Scapes

Last week my sister Sarah sent me a photo of the garlic scapes she’d just harvested from her western Massachusetts garden.  A few days later, I harvested the garlic scapes in my Lopez Island garden and sent her a photo in return.  

It’s that time of year when maturing hardneck garlic sends out these curling seed buds.  Cutting them off not only directs growing energy to the garlic bulbs forming underground, but also provides a fresh vegetable treat to fill the gap between the end of asparagus and the start of green beans.  Garlic scapes have the diameter of these other green vegetables but, true to their origin, a garlicky flavor that is sharp and hot when raw and sweeter and more mellow when cooked.  

Friends make garlic scape pesto and serve it with crackers or on pasta, and Melissa Clark has a recipe for a white bean and garlic scape dip which she describes as having “a velvety texture that wrapped itself around an assertive, racy wallop so intense that I worried I’d scare even my garlic-loving parents out of the house.”  While this blast of garlic flavor is good, I prefer the milder flavor of cooked garlic scapes.  And there are many ways to cook them.

Like green beans, garlic scapes can be sliced and steamed or sautéed and served as a side dish.  When preparing them, cut off the stringy end just before the bud and enjoy the scape curling beyond the bud.  I often sauté sliced garlic scapes with other spring vegetables like radishes, cauliflower or broccoli or with white beans and serve the mix on pasta or polenta.  

The mild garlic flavor and slightly chewy texture blends wonderfully with the other vegetables. I also like to roast garlic scapes with cauliflower or broccoli.  In these days of early summer, though, my new favorite way to prepare garlic scapes is to grill them.  Brushed lightly with olive oil and sprinkled with salt and pepper, they are easy to prepare. Like asparagus, garlic scapes gain soft sweetness and a nice bit of char when grilled.  We grilled them the other night with polenta and pork country ribs and are looking forward to grilling more scapes for other meals soon.  

My sister purees most of her harvest into a thick paste of scapes and olive oil, freezes it in ice cube trays and brings out a cube or two in winter to brighten and flavor soups or stews.  She says it’s a treat to cook with something green in the middle of winter. Thanks to her suggestion, I’ll preserve some of my garlic scapes this way and think of her when we’re each cooking winter meals, but I’ll cook the bulk of the harvest fresh and celebrate the start of summer.  

Kitchen Garden Year 2022

Looking back on the 2021 kitchen garden year, what stands out are unusual extremes in the weather.  A cool, dry spring was followed by a record hot dry summer, followed by a very wet fall and capped off by record cold and snow at the end of the year. I remember bemoaning the lack of warmth in late spring as summer crops weren’t thriving and then worrying about summer crops suffering from extreme heat as I acknowledged that I need to be careful what I wish for. Then there was the worry that fall rains, while good for hydrating summer beds for cover crop planting, were drowning fall and winter vegetables.  And finally, there was the winter kitchen gardener’s anxiety over extreme cold killing rather than sweetening winter roots and greens.  Kitchen gardeners always notice the weather, but this past year provided more than the usual opportunities to worry about it.

As 2021 ended in the ten-degree days and fierce winds of late December, I turned for comfort to 2022 and the garden year ahead.  As I do every year, I began with an inventory of my vegetable seeds and then opened seed catalogs to find refills of favorites and read about enticing new varieties.  As I considered what to plant for each season, the pleasure of remembering familiar vegetables and imagining new varieties carried me away from cold winter outside and into plans for spring, summer and fall.  

One of my plans for the spring kitchen garden this year is to plant early and to plant more so we’ll have good crops of spring roots and greens for a much-anticipated family visit in June.  I usually plant seeds outdoors around Earth Day, the third week in April, but this year, I may start some carrots and spring turnips a few weeks earlier in April, just to be sure to have lots to harvest in mid-June.  I’ll also start some lettuce indoors to set out in early May. I’ll plant my usual lettuce mixes but also some romaine, Mayan Jaguar and Olga, for big, crispy salads.  Finally, I’ve ordered seeds of Asian greens like Tatsoi, Chinese cabbage and Pac Choi for these adventurous eaters. 

One plan for the summer garden is to plant enough bee-attracting flowers to pollinate summer and winter squash, cucumbers and other vegetables.  In addition to ordering borage seeds to go with the calendulas that volunteer each year, I studied the sunflower offerings in various catalogs to be sure I ordered open-pollinated varieties.  As I learned from this site “be sure to plant open-pollinated varieties that produce pollen. Bees need pollen for protein and to feed their larvae. There are a lot of varieties of sunflowers that lack pollen, popular among people who don’t want to clean up the pollen mess from cut flowers and for the allergy-prone.” I’ve ordered a Sunflower Mix from Pinetree  “A phenomenal mix of open pollinated sunflowers. Tall and short as well as single and double varieties. Everything to delight you and all of your garden pollinators.” 

Another plan for the summer garden is to plant vegetables that are most fun to share with others at picnics and outdoor dinners.  Corn and tomatoes top the list.  Last summer’s heat did result in amazing corn, for us and for friends. Corn on the cob, fresh corn salad with shishito peppers are always hits.  Café is the corn variety I’ve planted the past few years and Takara Shishito produces loads of flavorful small peppers.  Bowls of cherry tomatoes, red Sweet Million, Orange Paruche, purple Sunchocola and green of the delicious Green Doctors as well as plates of sliced tomatoes, red Dester and Momotaro, dark red Cherokee Purple, yellow Golden Jubliee all signal summer at the table.  So do bowls of green and yellow pole beans and plates of roasted purple eggplant.  Green Fortex and Nor’easter, yellow Golden Gate and Monte Gusto produce all summer as does beautiful purple Galine eggplant.  Peppers complete the summer palate with red Carmen and Stocky Red Roaster, orange Etudia and yellow Flavorburst, delicious fresh or roasted.   Summer vegetables are for sharing, and I’m hoping that we’ll have less isolation and more large gatherings in summer 2022.

For the fall and winter garden, I once again plan to have a good supply of seeds of hardy roots, brassicas and greens.  These vegetables thrive in our marine winters, but they do need protection in cold spells like the one we just had.   Before the deep cold of late December and early January hit, I covered the beds containing winter vegetables with extra hay, then tarps.  Fortunately, the five inches of snow that fell provided another layer of insulation against the ten-degree nights.  And knowing that I wouldn’t be able to get to these crops for a while, I harvested two weeks-worth of celery root, turnips, rutabaga, parsnips, leeks, Brussels sprouts, carrots, radicchio and chicory before layering on protective coverings.  As I studied seed catalogs for the year ahead, I was glad to have a fridge full of winter food even though I was anxious about what would survive the cold.  The fridge is nearly empty now, and with the January thaw that has set in, I’m relieved to see that all the remaining winter vegetables survived the cold and will see us through the rest of the winter.

There will no doubt be more weather to worry about in 2022, but I have seeds and plans to see me through the next gardening year.  And lots of meals ahead with family and friends. 

Radishes and Turnips

It’s been a cool, dry spring. Watering helps with the dryness, and various fabric covers, cold frames and a greenhouse help with the cold, but what would be even better would be a steady rain and some warmer days.  We’ve gotten a little of each in the past week and the garden vegetables are responding with fresher green and more growth.  Now that the Solstice is upon us, perhaps rain and warmth will continue, or at least warmth, and vegetables will really start to grow.  

In the meantime, I’m grateful for radishes and spring turnips, round red and round white.  

Crisp, spicy radishes are tasty sliced and slipped into a nut butter sandwich or with butter and salt on bread.  They are also wonderful lightly pickled in white wine vinegar, salt and sugar.  Simply pickled or with the addition of some yogurt and garlic, they make a great condiment or an addition to salads. 

Yogurt Radish Salad

Makes 2 cups

 1–2 tablespoons white wine vinegar

1 teaspoon sugar, optional

2 teaspoons coarse salt, or to taste

Cracked black pepper to taste

2 cups thinly sliced radishes

1 clove crushed garlic

1/2 cup whole milk yogurt, drained if watery

 In a medium bowl, mix together the vinegar, sugar, salt and a little pepper. Toss in the radishes and allow to marinate for 30 minutes to 1 hour. Toss in the garlic and yogurt and serve.

One more way I’ve been preparing radishes is roasting them. Cut into wedges, brushed with olive oil, sprinkled with salt and pepper and roasted for 10-12 minutes at 425, they lose their spice and crispness, but in exchange they mellow into a soft, subtly radish-flavored side dish.  

Spring turnips are round like radishes but more dense than crisp and more sweet than spicy.  Planted at the same time as radishes, they are ready for harvest about a week later.  When they are still small, about an inch in diameter, I treat them like radishes, serving them raw in slices or lightly pickling them.  When they get bigger, I roast them.  Prepared and roasted the same way I do radishes, turnips become sweeter and more tender than roasted radishes.  Roasted spring turnips are one of our favorite late spring dishes.  Turnip greens are very tasty too, sauteed in garlic and olive oil, they make a pretty bed for a batch of roasted turnips.  

As we reach the end of the current crop of radishes and turnips, spring broccoli and cauliflower are forming heads that will provide delicious meals while the next planting of radishes and turnips matures. Soon after that, beets, another round root, carrots and sugar snap peas will be ready, and we’ll be done with radishes and turnips for this season.  But they’ll be there for us next year, the first gifts of spring.  

Rhubarb Recipes: Shrub and Cobbler

It’s rhubarb season and I’ve been making the family favorite, rhubarb custard pie, for the past month.  

Some would argue that this pie is really the only appropriate use for rhubarb, but lately I’ve been introduced to a couple of other rhubarb recipes that significantly expand the list of rhubarb recipes: rhubarb shrub and rhubarb cobbler.

My friend Dena made a rhubarb shrub this spring.  It’s delicious!  She shared her recipe, one that she found at Bon Appetit.

“In terms of drinks, a shrub is a non-alcoholic syrup made of a combination of concentrated fruits, aromatics, sugar, and vinegar. This sweet, yet acidic mixer is traditionally enjoyed as a component of a mixed drink with soda water.” Dena adds it to tonic water for a special, non-alcoholic spring drink. We’re doing the same.

Dena’s Bon Appetit Rhubarb Shrub recipe could be easier: 

Slice 4 medium stalks of rhubarb crosswise until you’ve got 2 cups of it. Mix together 1¼ cups sugar (preferably organic) and ¼ teaspoon kosher salt in a small bowl. Pick the leaves off a couple sprigs of mint and clap them firmly between your hands once (this is to release the essential oils). In a large jar or container with an airtight lid (I like glass best, plastic is a good alternative, but avoid metal), layer the rhubarb and mint evenly with the sugar mixture. Seal the jar and turn it upside down a couple of times. Now, let it sit on the counter for a few hours. (If it’s hot out, just an hour or so will do! The juices are drawn out of the rhubarb more quickly at higher temps.) You want to see a fair amount of liquid in the jar at this point. Put your jar into the fridge overnight.

Twenty-four hours after you first combined the sugar mixture with the fruit, add 1 cup red wine vinegar. (I love this kind of vinegar, which amplifies the beautiful color imparted by the rhubarb here, but if you don’t have it, try apple cider or white wine vinegar). After adding the vinegar, leave it at room temp for a few hours, then taste it to see if it needs more vinegar (up to ¼ cup more). Turn the jar upside down a couple times and put it back in the fridge for a minimum of 24 hours. If you can, try to wait longer, up to two days more, so the flavors can develop further.

When it’s ready, strain out the solids and bottle it…It’ll keep nicely in the fridge for six to eight weeks, but much longer if you keep it tightly sealed and save it for later use (i.e. you’re not exposing it to air by opening the container often)

Dena added that she “free-styled: no mint, tried white wine vinegar, then a batch with apple cider vinegar. Forgot the first batch on the counter for 24 hours and abandoned the second batch in the fridge for a few days before straining. Came out fine both times, despite my indiscretions!”

I left out the mint as well, and I found that leaving the rhubarb/sugar/vinegar mixture in the fridge for several days allowed the organic sugar to dissolve completely and the rhubarb flavor to develop further.  Two ounces of rhubarb shrub topped with tonic is a lovely spring drink.

A rhubarb shrub cocktail is a great way to begin a meal and Melissa Clark’s Roasted Rhubarb Cobbler is a great way to end one.  As Clark writes in the introduction to her recipe: “In this buttery cobbler, slices of rhubarb are roasted with sugar before rounds of biscuit dough are added to the pan. This extra step allows the rhubarb juices to condense into a sweet-tart syrup and eliminates the need for a thickener like cornstarch or tapioca, which can muddy the flavors. The result is a bright-tasting, flaky cobbler that’s gently scented with vanilla and a little orange zest. Topped with a drizzle of heavy cream or a scoop of ice cream, it makes a rose-tinged dessert that’s both lighter and bolder than others of its kind.”

Roasted Rhubarb Cobbler

For the rhubarb filling:

  1. vanilla bean, split lengthwise (or use 1/2 teaspoon vanilla paste or 1 tablespoon vanilla extract)
  2. pounds rhubarb, trimmed and cut into 1/2-inch pieces (about 7 cups)

¾ cup/150 grams granulated sugar

1 teaspoon finely grated orange zest

Pinch of kosher salt

For the biscuits:

¾ cups/96 grams all-purpose flour, plus more for shaping

2 tablespoons granulated sugar

2 ¼ teaspoons baking powder

Pinch of kosher salt

3 tablespoon cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes

⅓ cup/79 milliliters plus 1 tablespoon heavy cream, plus more for serving, if you like

Demerara sugar, for sprinkling

Ice cream, for serving (optional)

Heat oven to 425 degrees. Using the tip of a paring knife, scrape the pulp out of the vanilla bean halves and add the pulp to a 1 1/2 quart gratin or baking dish or 9-by-9-inch pan along with the scraped-out pods. (Alternatively, add the paste or extract to the pan.) Add the rhubarb, sugar, zest and salt, and toss well. Let sit at room temperature to macerate while preparing the biscuit dough.

Make the biscuit dough: Put the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt in a food processor. Pulse to combine. Add cubed butter, then pulse until the mixture has formed lime bean-size pieces. Drizzle in 1/3 cup heavy cream and pulse until everything just clumps together, taking care not to overprocess. (To make the dough by hand, put the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt in a large bowl and whisk to combine. Add cubed butter, then mix it in with your hands, pinching and squeezing with your fingers — or use a pastry blender — until the largest pieces are the size of peas. Drizzle in 1/3 cup heavy cream a little at a time, mixing until the dough comes together.)

Dump the dough onto a lightly floured surface, and gently pat it together until it’s a cohesive lump. Using a small ice cream scoop or a large spoon, form dough into 6 evenly sized balls. Slightly flatten dough balls into thick rounds. Cover rounds with plastic wrap and chill for at least 30 minutes (and up to 6 hours).

Put the rhubarb in the oven and roast, stirring halfway through, until the rhubarb has softened and the liquid has formed a syrup, about 30 minutes.

Remove pan from oven and use tongs to remove the vanilla bean pods.

Lower oven temperature to 375 degrees. Arrange biscuit rounds on top of the rhubarb, leaving space in between them. Brush biscuits with remaining tablespoon of heavy cream and sprinkle with Demerara sugar.

Bake cobbler until biscuits are golden brown, about 25 to 35 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature, with cream or ice cream, if you like.

I especially like the low sugar content of this recipe and the concentrated rhubarb flavor.  The cobbler biscuits are very light and tender.

With all the rhubarb growing in the garden right now, I’m glad to have these recipes to use more of it.  They won’t replace rhubarb custard pie as the premier use of rhubarb, but they come close.  

Tips for Planting Spring Vegetables

In my last post, I highlighted some general questions that new and veteran vegetable gardeners had been asking each other as they got going on their spring gardens, questions about seeds, seed starting and soil, and I linked to several earlier posts that address many of these questions.  Since publishing that post, I’ve heard more questions, some about pest control, others about how much to plant, how often, how far apart and how much to thin those sweet seedlings.  Now seems like a good time to return to earlier posts I’ve written about spring vegetables and highlight responses to these questions as well as offer updates and insights I’ve gained since writing them.

Lettuce: In 2013 I wrote about my preference for lettuce mixes , those packets that contain seeds of lots of different colors and shapes of lettuce.  Most seed companies offer them along with single packets of many different varieties.

Lettuce mix small row

Lettuce mix big row

These lettuce mixes are still my favorite way to get a varied lettuce crop in my kitchen garden.  I can plant a 3-foot row of seed mix every few weeks from spring through early summer and get a steady supply of lettuce until summer vegetables like zucchini and beans tempt us away from green salads.

Succession planting is one key to successful, ongoing lettuce harvest.  The other is foiling wire worms, half-inch long yellow worms that, as Linda Gilkeson writes, “are very fond of boring into lettuce roots.”

The other day, a neighbor asked me why some of her lettuce starts had simply flattened down against the soil and died.  What she described is the classic result of a wireworm boring into the lettuce root and killing the plant.  If you pull the plant out and look at the stem, you’ll often see a wireworm lodged in the stem just below the lettuce head and maybe a few other wire worms in the roots or nearby soil.  I grab each worm I see, pull it in two and toss the pieces.

How else to combat wireworms?  Potato bait!  Gilkeson has great advice for trapping wireworms. I’ve used potato bait successfully since reading her advice.

Skewer chunks of potato on short sticks (they act as markers so you can find them again), then bury the potato piece an inch or so in the soil. Check the traps every day or two and destroy wireworms. Some bore right into the potato (just pull them out); others are in the soil beside the bait. I use a trowel to scoop up each bait chunk so at not miss those nearby wireworms. Wireworms can move several feet through the soil so placing the baits at 1-2 foot intervals in the bed is close enough. Once a bed is cleared, the potatoes chunks can be re-used elsewhere. Wireworms are common in sod and readily migrate into garden beds adjacent to lawns or weedy pathways; along the border of such beds is a good place to put the bait potatoes.

Click on her link to see pictures of wireworms and potato bait.

Carrots: In 2013, I wrote about growing carrots, emphasizing a planting technique I learned from Steve Solomon in his Growing Vegetables West of the Cascades and a harvesting technique I learned from Shepherd Ogden in National Gardening Magazine.  For planting that encourages germination and minimizes thinning, “Mix carrot seeds into fine compost and distribute this mixture along the row.” To harvest the sweetest carrots, be patient. “Carrots can look ready, full and orange, but Ogden writes: ‘It is only when the sugars have built up that we get the full flavor of a first-class carrot, which can take an additional week or two depending on soil moisture and the weather.'”

Carrots growing 1

One more growing technique I’ve benefitted from since 2013 is using insect netting or fabric to protect carrots from carrot rust fly.

Once again, Linda Gilkeson has been my guide. She advises: “Even if you usually don’t need to cover spring-sown carrots to prevent carrot rust fly damage, most people should cover their July-sown carrots. By late summer there are a lot more carrot rust flies looking for carrots to lay eggs on than are present in the spring.”   To be safe, I usually do cover early carrot plantings, and I definitely cover early July plantings, leaving the covers on through October.  These early July plantings provide carrots throughout the winter in my kitchen garden and, thanks to the insect barrier, they are free of the worm tunnels that carrot rust fly larvae leave.  See this June 29, 2018 entry from Linda’s List.

Spring Turnips: In 2011, I wrote about spring turnips one of my favorite early spring roots.

_Turnips growing

Like carrots, turnips benefit from being covered by insect barriers, both to protect the roots from maggots and the leaves from flea beetles.  “To minimize root maggot and flea beetle damage, I covered the just planted seeds with Reemay and kept the germinated seedlings and then maturing plants covered until they were nearly ready to harvest.”  If the weather is warm, I use a row cover lighter and thinner than Reemay to avoid trapping too much heat on the new seedlings.  Territorial Seed Company offers a summer insect barrier  I’ve used and liked.

In this spring turnip post, I also note seed spacing and thinning techniques: “I planted the seeds about an inch apart and began thinning and harvesting turnips when they were an inch across.  Those that stayed in the ground grew quickly to two inches across.”

Finally, I planted two crops of these lovely turnips, a succession that stretched turnips meals over two months: “I planted the first crop in early March this year and another in late April.  The March planting was ready to harvest by early May and the April planting was ready even sooner, early June.”

Beets: In 2011 I wrote about beets , another crop that works well planted several times over the season.

beets in basket

“Beets are a perfect crop for succession planting.  This year, I planted my first block of three three-foot rows April 26th, another block May 30th, another June 12th and a last, longer block July 23rd, a bit late but they are doing fine and will mature by late fall and hold into the winter.  If I’d planted three fifteen-foot rows all at once in April or May, I can’t imagine what I would have done with all the beets.”

Beets also benefit from early thinning.  As Nancy Bubel writes in her New Seed-Starters Handbook (1988), “The beet seed that you plant is actually a seedball, an aggregate of two to six individual seed.  Consequently, even when you follow the recommended spacing of 2 inches apart, the seedlings will need to be thinned.”  I do my best to thin beet seedlings when they are very small, about an inch and a half tall, and the soil is moist.  The tiny, thinned beets are delicious washed, dried and added to salads.

Peas: in 2011, I wrote about Sugar Snap peas , explaining my fondness for the flavor of the original sugar snap despite its vast height and tendency to get powdery mildew.

Peas support

There are also the challenges posed by birds and rodents: “For years I direct seeded them, hoping that rodents and birds wouldn’t eat all the seeds or new sprouts.  Row covers helped deter these pests, but I often needed to replant. Then a few years ago I began starting the seeds indoors in 1-inch cell trays.  By carefully setting each seed a half inch deep with the hilum down and keeping the soil barely moist, I got nearly 100% germination.  Here in zone 7B I start seeds in mid-February and set them out a few weeks later; I plant a second crop in mid-March.  Even in those years when the seedlings grow a little taller and are more root-bound than I’d prefer before setting them out, they grow quickly once they are in the ground.”

Pea weevils are one more pest that has challenged my sugar snap pea crop for the past several years.  Fortunately, Linda Gilkeson has a solution:

You can sow peas every month through June to ensure fresh peas into October. I start my early plantings of peas in vermiculite indoors to avoid the main egg-laying period of pea leaf weevil, which is now common in my area (for damage, see: http://www.lindagilkeson.ca/root_feeders.html#74). The weevils have one generation a year and only lay their eggs in the spring. Peas planted later than mid-May after the egg laying period is done generally escape damage from the weevil larvae, which eat the nitrogen fixing nodules on the roots. Pea attacked by weevil larvae can’t make their own nitrogen, but still grow well if the soil is enriched with nitrogen sources, such as fish compost, blood meal, alfalfa meal, etc.

Following her advice, I’ve been planting my sugar snap peas as well as fava beans, later in the spring the past few years and think that I’ve had success discouraging pea weevils.

Happy spring vegetable gardening!  Enjoy the warming and lengthening days.  And remember:

Don’t be discouraged by pests.  There are lots of clever ways to foil them.

Try succession planting.  If you have the space and the time, make several short plantings every few weeks rather than one big planting only once.

Think about seed spacing and seedling thinning.  With many vegetables, careful spacing and steady thinning give you a continuous supply of food.  And if new seedlings are really crowded, be brave and thin them; they’ll thrive in a bigger space.  Think of it as social distancing.

Thanks to the Lopez Island Garden Club for including  Lopez Island Kitchen Gardens in its list of Useful Resources for Pacific Northwest Gardening.

Purple Cape Cauliflower and Uncertain Times

After last year’s happy experience with overwintering cauliflower and broccoli  , I’ve been eager for this year’s overwintered brassica harvest to begin.  I planted these overwintering brassicas indoors in early June and set them out in the kitchen garden in mid-July where they grew steadily through late summer and fall, then settled into winter, surviving cold, snow and winds.  The first overwintered treat to mature this year was Purple Cape Cauliflower, its intense purple startling me as much this year as it did last.

Purple Cape two

I’ve been harvesting heads for the past several weeks while the curds are still tightly packed, unlike last year when I, in my inexperience with them, let them grow out onto their stems.

For dinner the other night, I paired a head of Purple Cape cauliflower with emerging flower buds of Dazzling Blue kale and January King cabbage, nice color matches.

Purple Cape and flower buds

I roasted the cauliflower and lightly wilted the flower buds.  While the cauliflower finished roasting, I sautéed the wilted flower buds in lots of olive oil and garlic and then added some cooked black beans. When the cauliflower was browned and soft, I added it to the pan with the other vegetables and scattered all with finely grated lemon zest.

Purple Cape side

On its own, this mixture would be a lovely side dish, but by adding pasta, it becomes a hearty main dish.  Any pasta would be fine, but orecchiette is especially fun for the way the beans nestle into the little ears of orecchiette.  Sprinkled with grated Parmesan cheese and toasted bread crumbs, this pasta dish makes a perfect early spring meal.

Purple Cape pasta

In the days before social distancing, I’d make this pasta meal again and invite friends over to enjoy it, or I’d bring the vegetable side dish to a potluck.  I miss these dinner table connections and conversations, but I’m grateful for another connection between friends that still continues.  On the phone and over email, even sometimes at a distance of six feet during a walk, gardeners are asking each other questions and sharing advice.  “What are you planting, now?” “Are you planting out in the garden or starting seeds indoors?” “What kind of potting soil do you use?”  “Do I need to buy new seeds of that vegetable, or will my old seeds still work?”  And, as I asked my friend Carol on the phone the other day, “When will the rest of my overwintered brassicas mature?” “Soon,” she answered reassuringly, “April or maybe May.”

In addition to friends, I’m grateful to Linda Gilkeson whose “Lists” address gardeners’ questions every couple of weeks.  If you already subscribe, you know how useful her advice is for maritime northwest gardeners.  If you want to subscribe, go to her website http://www.lindagilkeson.ca/gardening_tips.htmland click on Gardening Tips in the menu.

In her March 22, 2020 list, she makes a very generous offer to all gardeners: access to her gardening courses.  She writes:

I am getting emails from first-time gardeners wanting to grow food in this year of the pandemic, yet my gardening classes, workshops and talks in the region have been cancelled or postponed indefinitely. SO, I am making my Year Round Harvest gardening course slides available to everyone. These are pdf files of the PowerPoint slides that I show in my two 10-month gardening courses and are normally only accessible by the people registered in the classes. The two courses are sponsored by the Horticulture Centre of the Pacific [https://hcp.ca/ ] and the Salt Spring Garden Club [https://ssigardenclub.ca/ ] and I appreciate their support for releasing these presentation to anyone who wants to see them.

 You will need to use the class password to view these files, which will be available until December. Here’s how: 

Go to: http://www.lindagilkeson.ca/coursenotes.html

Use this password: honeycrisp

Click on SUBMIT (hitting ENTER doesn’t work)

 Around the middle of each month from January to October I put up a new module on a different topic appropriate to the season. So far, there are 3 files:

  1. Garden Plans and Seed Starting 
  2. Soil, Nutrients and Amendments 
  3. Spring Garden 

If you have questions about the material in these presentations, there is much more detail in my book Backyard Bounty. If you have access to a copy, please try to find your answers there first: I am becoming overwhelmed by emails. My priority is to answer questions for people in this year’s gardening classes and from Master Gardeners in BC and I will try to answer others as I have time.

Thank you to Linda for her generosity.

My blog also provides answers to some of our spring gardening questions.  Check out the post on  Starting Seeds Indoors and another on Transplanting vs Direct Seeding.  And if you’re ordering seeds, this post provides a chart on seed viability and if you’re wondering when you can eat the vegetables you’re planting, read this one on Days to Maturity.

I’m very grateful to have the kitchen garden right now, both because it provides food and because it provides a point of connection with friends, family and blog readers.  We’re comforted by growing food in this uncertain time, comforted by the sense of normalcy that germinating seeds and growing plants offer us each day.

Chard Flower Buds

Each spring I look forward to harvesting, cooking and eating the flower buds that form on overwintered kale, Brussels sprouts, cabbage and red mustard.

Kale top Red Russian

Before their buds burst into yellow, bee-attracting flowers, these members of the Brassica family provide us with tasty side dishes and pasta sauces. Last week, as we were sharing a meal of sautéed red mustard leaves and their spicy flower buds with weekend guests, my friend Chris asked me if I’d ever eaten chard flower buds. No, I said, and wondered why I’d never considered the flower buds of this other overwintered green.

In the kitchen garden a few days later, I looked more closely at the flower heads that were forming on the bolting, overwintered chard plants.

chard tops garden group

Unlike the tight, broccoli and broccoli raab-like buds on kale, Brussels sprouts, cabbage and red mustard, these chard buds looked shaggy, loose and seedy, more like amaranth than the Brassica family buds I was used to harvesting.

chard tops garden closeup

This different appearance makes sense because chard and amaranth are members of the Goosefoot Family (Chenopodiaceae). But were the Goosefoot flower buds as edible and delicious as the Brassica buds?

Curious to know if other people harvested and cooked chard flower buds, I searched the Internet and found a July 29, 2009 blog entry titled “Eating Whole Food: When Chard Bolts,” by Deborah Madison, the chef and vegetable cookbook author whose inspiring work has guided my cooking for years. She describes surveying her bolting chard and deciding to cook and eat it instead of composting it: “True, it didn’t look much like the chard you buy at the store—no big fleshy leaves, here—but why assume what filled my arms wouldn’t be tender and tasty?”

Her account was all the encouragement I needed.

chard tops basket

I harvested a basket of chard flower buds and took them to the kitchen where I rinsed them, wilted them in a covered skillet, keeping an eye on them to see how long they took to soften. After five minutes, the thin stems and leaves and the shaggy blossoms were tender and delicious, tasting sweet and earthy like new chard. I added some chopped garlic and olive oil and sautéed them for a few minutes more before serving them.

With lots more seed heads forming on my bolting chard plants, I’ve been using them in other favorite chard recipes. One night I made Scafata, a mixture of fava beans, onion, tomato and chard from Viana La Place’s still-inspiring 1991 cookbook Verdura.

Scafata recipe

I used fava beans I’d frozen last summer, tomatoes I’d roasted and frozen and the last red onion, sautéing these together before adding the chard stems and flower heads. The flower heads softened and blended into the favas, tomatoes and onions, creating a sauté of complementary flavors and textures.

chard tops scafata.jpg

I served this flavorful sauce over pasta garnishing it with lots of black pepper and coarsely grated Pecorino Romano cheese.

Last night I combined more chard flower buds with another set of flavors I often use with big chard leaves. Sautéing the chard buds in olive oil, garlic and shallots, I next added yellow raisins and red pepper flakes, and then served this sauté as a side dish garnished with toasted hazelnuts.

chard tops rack

chard tops raisins hazelnuts

I also look forward to making the recipes Deborah Madison describes in her blog post: wilted chard “leaves, stems and flower clusters” tossed with “cilantro, which I love with chard, lemon, olive oil, sea salt, pepper and little extra lemon juice for acid.” She adds that any leftovers can be a salad the next day or go into a pita sandwich or a fritatta or be mixed with beans. So many possibilities.

There will be more chard meals in the next week or two before these flower buds bloom and the plants finally go to the compost. My thanks to Chris for making me curious and to Deborah Madison for inspiring me! Now there’s another flower bud to look forward to each spring.

Early Spring Salads

The early spring kitchen garden continues to offer salad greens from the sturdy plants that provided greens throughout the winter. Arugula, red mustard and kale all came through the cold snaps of December, January and February and now with the longer light of March and April are sending out new growth.

Arugula is starting to bud and blossom but the new leaves that are growing too are tender and spicy.

Spring arugula 4.18

Red mustard is sending out succulent-stemmed, horseradish-spicy leaves.

Spring mustard 4.18

And kale, the year-round champion, is bursting with sweet, tender leaves.

Spring kale 4.18

We eat kale salads for lunch nearly every day and lately we’ve been adding red mustard leaves to the bowl, their hot crispness a perfect balance to the tender sweet kale. Olive oil, a little salt, fresh lemon juice and grated Pecorino cheese meld the flavors of the two together into a perfect salad.

Spring mustard, kale 4.18

Spring kale mustard salad

Arugula makes a great salad with the same dressing, but for the past few months, I’ve been using Yotam Ottolenghi’s recipe for arugula with roasted red onions and walnut salsa from his 2014 cookbook Plenty More.

Red onion Walnut salsa recipe

It’s so good! The thick slices of red onions roast, soften and caramelize. Redwing is my favorite storage onion, a variety I’ve grown for years. Served warm over a bed of arugula these roasted onions are delicious and beautiful and would be a fine just with the arugula, but what really makes this salad is the walnut salsa. Modifying Ottolenghi’s recipe slightly, I marinate minced garlic in red wine vinegar with a little salt for an hour or so then add coarsely chopped walnuts and finely diced poblano peppers I’d roasted and frozen last summer. Thawed they are perfect for this salsa.   Flavors of sharp vinegar, pungent garlic, crunchy walnuts and spicy poblanos make a salsa that I’m happy simply to eat with a spoon. Tossed into the salad it’s great too. Another modification I make is to use much more arugula than the recipe suggests, making this a dinner salad rather than an appetizer.

Red onion walnut salsa salad

These early spring salads are exactly what we need as we wait for warmer weather and the first lettuce of early summer.

Emmer Farro and Vegetable Salads

Earlier this month, we were visiting family in western Massachusetts and planning a lunch for a gathering of fifteen good eaters. We’d stopped at Petarski’s Sausage for several pounds of their traditional kielbasa and a jar of locally made sauerkraut and at one of the many roadside stands for bunches of just-picked asparagus. Grilled kielbasa with sauerkraut and roasted asparagus garnished with lots of quartered, hard-boiled eggs would make two great dishes but I needed one more. Luckily my sister Sadie had her usual supply of Bluebird Grain Farms Emmer Farro, a grain she orders regularly from our friends Sam and Brooke Lucy who grow it in Washington state’s Methow Valley, so I began to create an emmer farro salad to round out the meal.

The Bluebird Grain Farms website describes emmer farro as: a type of farro (an ancient hulled wheat) that dates back to early civilization. It’s a simple grain of 28 chromosomes that pre-dates spelt. It is prepared like brown rice and cooks in 50-60 minutes (or can be soaked overnight to reduce the cooking time). It makes a fabulous pilaf, grain salad, risotto, addition to soup, or sprouted grain for breads and salads. When cooked, its dark, plump berries add sweet full-bodied flavor, chewy texture, and high nutritional value (over 16% protein) to every meal.

Farro package

And as farmer Sam added the other day when I told him about this meal: “emmer is a great filler.” He’s right, and I was counting on that for my family lunch crowd, but emmer’s sweet, nutty flavor and chewy texture also make it a great match for many savory flavors, whatever vegetables, meats, cheeses or nuts happen to be available. For this day’s lunch, I covered four cups of emmer farro with ten cups of water in a large pot and set it to boil, then to simmer, covered, on the stove while I began preparing vegetables I’d add to it for a grain salad. Sadie offered the last of her shallots so I slowly sautéed a cup and a half them, chopped, in olive oil. When they were soft and starting to brown, I added some chopped garlic. We’d also bought four bunches of locally grown bok choi so I coarsely chopped the leaves and stems and slightly wilted them. And the day before we’d bought some locally made bocconcini mozzarella that I was marinating in olive oil and herbs. Sadie also had some flavorful pecans so we toasted a generous half-cup.

After 45 minutes of simmering, the emmer farro was soft and chewy. I drained it then stirred in the sautéed shallots and garlic, the wilted bok choi and quartered bocconcini then dressed the grains and vegetables with a lemon juice/mustard/maple syrup and olive oil vinaigrette we’d made up on the spot, adding just a few teaspoons of the maple syrup to balance the tartness of the lemon and sharpness of the mustard. We lined a large, shallow bowl with a layer of Sadie’s just-picked spinach, arranged the emmer farro vegetable salad on top of the spinach and sprinkled the toasted pecans on top. Who knew that what was meant to take third place behind the kielbasa and asparagus would be the hit of the lunch. Everyone from a three-year-old to an eighty-one-year-old asked for seconds.

Back home after our visit, I’ve continued to experiment with emmer farro and vegetable salads. For a potluck dish, I sautéed some of my remaining shallots and garlic as a base and instead of bok choi added lots of chopped red radishes and toasted pecans and dressed the salad with just olive oil and salt and pepper. Another night I started with sautéed shallots as a base, added some cooked black beans and chopped radishes and finally some roasted broccoli topped with lemon zest. Farro BroccoliLast night I roasted some purplette onions and some spring turnips, sautéed the turnip greens in olive oil, garlic and red pepper flakes and added these tasty spring vegetables to cooked emmer farro and black beans.

Turnips, greens, onions

Farro turnip

Once again, emmer farro’s chewy grain flavor was a perfect match for these earthy, sweet spring vegetables.

A friend asked me this weekend what I planned to bring to our neighbor’s Fourth of July potluck celebration next month. I told her I was already thinking of what vegetables to add to an emmer farro salad. Maybe some roasted beets and carrots, flavored perhaps with toasted cumin and coriander seed, with sautéed beet greens and roasted spring onions. Food for a crowd!

Happy Summer Solstice!

 

 

Red Mustard Pairings

Red Mustard in garden 5:17The prettiest vegetable in the spring kitchen garden right now is the overwintered red mustard. Purple is actually a more accurate description of the color, violet purple with gorgeous purple-green variegation, but the variety growing in my garden is called Red Giant. I’ve also grown the more accurately named Osaka Purple, but I’ve found that Red Giant is more winter hardy than Osaka Purple. It survived the repeated cold spells of the past winter in a drafty hoop house with hay mulch around its base. Now robust and big-leafed with new growth, it’s a treat for the eye.

It’s also a treat for the palate. The Fedco description of Red Giant’s flavor says: “Tastes like horseradish to some, peppery to others.” The horseradish flavor, actually closer to wasabi than horseradish, is why we like it so much.

Another treat is that these huge and flavorful leaves are surprisingly tender. Removed from the stalk, rinsed and sliced into rough squares, a pile of enormous leaves will wilt down quickly in olive oil and garlic, transforming into a spicy sauté, delicious alone but also wonderful with sweet or salty flavors.

Red mustard pile on island

Red Mustard saute

With the abundance of mustard in the garden now, I’ve been experimenting with red mustard pairings. One night, asparagus, fresh from the garden and roasted, provided an earthy, sweet counterpoint to the spicy mustard.

Red Mustard & Asparagus platter

The next night I used beans for sweetness. For salty, I fried some bacon, wilted the mustard in the bacon fat and combined all the flavors into a pasta sauce. Delicious!

Red Mustard, bacon beans in skillet

Another night, mustard and bacon mixed together formed a side dish for orzo and asparagus.

Red Mustard and orzo

A few nights later, I combined eggs, a little grated Parmesan cheese and sautéed red mustard for a creamy, soft frittata. On the side, some sweet roasted pears, roasted and frozen last fall, were a perfect pairing.

Red Mustard fritatta

We’ll keep experimenting with red mustard leaves and soon will add the lovely, chartreuse-colored mustard flower buds to the mix. Like the leaves, they are tender and full of mustard flavor, perfect for pairing with more sweet and salty flavors.