A little urban gardening update is in order before more goodies, and the true 2009 harvest gets under way. Beginnings are pictured above and a recipe is at bottom. A timeline of winter urban gardening follows:

In early November, bracing the settling chill of the City, D and I haphazardly construct a cold frame in our garden plot and set out some seed. When I say haphazard I mean it in the truest sense: with no hard design plan (though two conflicting views in our minds) we enter a second hand building supply store near the garden. In approximately 1 hour, after much debate as to which plan to build, we leave with 4 pieces of wood (2 long; 2 short) and a large glass door I bargained down to $20. In 15 minutes, fighting the cold, we hold the wood together (no nails/ screws) and push soil around the sides to keep them in place. Getting cold and dark, I toss random cold hardy seeds inside our new cold frame: kohlrabi, mustard, arugula, tatsoi, spinach, radish, and potentially some others I mark as “?” in the garden journal. The glass door is set over top and we return in approximately 1 month.

To great surprise, makeshift cold frames have appeared in other garden plots constructed out of clear plastic and held down with rocks. To even greater surprise, many of the seeds we threw down actually sprout, specifically the tatsoi, radish, mustard, arugula and spinach. “Take that farmers!” We call to cold streets and abandoned buildings around the garden. We consider ourselves trendsetters in winter gardening. In the fading daylight hours of winter we had created a fabulous self-watering greenhouse (thank you condensation).

By late December we have the first of a measly harvest, not even enough for a side salad and we question if this is worth it– $30 for the wood and glass and about $10 in seeds (with seeds left over for future plantings come spring).

January is brutally cold and surprisingly snowy for New York City. We question our shoddy cold frame construction.

Early February arrives and after diligently ordering $60 of seeds for a 2009 planting season and reading many a garden book, my faith is renewed in our winter plants: we had simply started a few months too late. If we really want to benefit from a winter harvest, seeds must be planted in August to allow maturity in long days of sun and hibernation in shortened days December to mid-February.

We return in mid-February to find our once sad plants have taken off with the lengthening days. “Take that brutal January!” There was even a rogue something or other we could not yet decipher that had sprung from a late summer planting, not intended for the cold frame. Chamomile, planted late last season has survived the winter exposed to all elements. We harvest a small salad.

By late-February I start a few seeds indoors and we return again on an unseasonably warm day to prepare our soil for spring planting. We chopped up and turn under corn stalks from last year and take a long inspection of the cold frame goodies. The rogue something or other turns out to be broccoli rabe, an excellent surprise. I harvest a large bag of mixed greens that last four dinner-sized servings.

In mid-March we return again, this time finishing off soil prep and sow a few of the prepared beds with spring seeds: radish, spinach, arugula, mixed salad, carrots, swiss chard, scallions, cilantro, mint, sorrel and sage. I note in our garden journal that it is 3 weeks to the last frost date (April 13 in New York City). The newly planted radish are supposed to be ready to eat April 17 according to the 4 weeks-to-maturity date. The outlook is doubtful. This is not good news as I had hoped to pull the radish to make way for sugar snap peas, tomatoes, and cucumber. I harvest another large bag of mixed greens that last four dinner-sized servings.

Late-March I return again and transplant some purchased strawberry and kohlrabi seedlings as well as some home-grown fennel, leek and kale seedlings started indoors. Sugar snap peas also find their home in the ground next to the slow-to-mature radish, as well as some marigold, mustard and another patch of arugula and mixed greens. The two-week-old radish, spinach, arugula and mixed greens are now all peeking at this point. Swiss chard, carrots, scallions and herbs are not visible (grumbles and curses ring out). I harvest another large bag of mixed greens that last four dinner-sized servings.

In early-April I remove the glass from the cold frame. Leeks are looking straggly. Fennel is teetering on the edge of existence. Kale is kicking butt. November-planted greens continue on their course. I allow them to rest and grow before another harvest.

We come to present time, mid-April. Yesterday (estimated last frost date) I transplanted cilantro, cumin and basil into the garden that were started indoors. I am hoping this batch of cilantro holds on. I also direct-seeded parsley and another round of sage and mint. I harvested another large bag of mixed greens, including a single wintered radish and the rogue broccoli rabe. These should last four dinner-sized servings, potentially longer.

In total, the $40 I spent on supplies for the winter garden has served us 17 servings and counting. If these meals were at a restaurant it is a definite savings. Compared to farmer’s market organic purchases, I’m not sure just yet– though the winter crops will continue to feed us until the new seeds are large enough to take over at which point they will be pulled for some summer fare. The savings will no doubt be great as the original $10 spent on winter green seeds are still being seeded.

For these last few harvests I made a grapefruit Caesar salad dressing to enjoy with the spicy greens. Caesar is one of my all time favorite dressings and I order it liberally at restaurants, though often finish it with disappointment. Who says Caesar needs Romaine lettuce?! Or only croutons for adornment?!

With these slightly spicy mixed greens, simply served with a slice of wild salmon, the meal could not be more perfect to welcome in the spring (though April showers are doing a fine job of that). For something slightly more filling and exotic, I topped the salad with toasted hazelnuts and a few feta pieces, as pictured above.

Spicy Greens, Salmon and Grapefruit Caesar
2 servings. Active time= 10 minutes. Cook time= 8 minutes.
3 tablespoons chopped hazelnuts
2 large handfuls mixed spicy greens (mustard, arugula, kale, tatsoi, etc)
1/4 pound feta
Grapefruit Caesar Dressing (recipe below)
two 1/4 pound pieces wild salmon
2 tablespoons olive oil
salt/ fresh-ground black pepper

In a dry skillet, toast the hazelnuts over medium-high heat until lightly browned, set aside to cool slightly. Toss the mixed greens and feta with 1 to 2 tablespoons of the Grapefruit Caesar Dressing (recipe below). Warm a skillet over medium-high heat. Once hot, add olive oil. Salt and pepper the salmon and cook, skin side up first, 3 minutes each side (for rare fish, longer for more done). Set finished salmon over the dressed lettuce, add hazelnuts over top.

Grapefruit Caesar Dressing
12 servings. Active time= 8 minutes. Cook time= 0. 
3 large cloves garlic (or 2 teaspoons garlic powder)
8 anchovies, patted dry
1 egg
3 tablespoons grapefruit juice
1 tablespoon Parmesan cheese
1 tablespoon tarragon vinegar (or apple cider vinegar)
2 teaspoons grapefruit zest
1 teaspoon mustard poweder
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons olive oil
fresh-ground black pepper

Place all ingredients in a blender and blitz until combined. Taste and adjust seasonings if desired. NOTE: I use a raw egg in my dressing because I know the farm my eggs come from. You can alternately boil the egg in the shell for 1 minute.

D and I have been so busy wrapping things around here up, building a cold frame in the garden, and prepping for a friend’s wedding this weekend on top of Thanksgiving, I almost forgot to post this last wrap up!

These last few pictures in my Post-Summer Wrap Up all have vibrant shades of pink and purple in common. They are also all delicious appetizers, perfect for an upcoming holiday bash.

This first dish is my favorite– the colors totally stunning, and the taste… Well, it had a cured pork product, it was delicious. At a recent dinner party, this dish was the highlight of the night. It was really so simple to make, it should be the highlight at every dinner party. Beyond the color, the flavors still linger in my memory.

While D and I did grow melon (cantaloupe and watermelon) in our garden, this melon is not one of ours. (For the most part, ours were eaten before we could document their beauty.) This melon came to us via our CSA. It is a Sunjewel Melon, similar in flavor to honeydew, though not as intensely sweet. I am usually not a fan of honeydews, though if wrapped in pork, I make an exception. Sprinkled on top are purple basil flowers and tomato flakes*.

*Tomato flakes- After canning 50 lbs of tomatoes I had a huge pile of tomato skins. I didn’t want to compost them all– too overwhelming for my worms (and perhaps too acidic), and I couldn’t bare throwing them all away. What to do? I dehydrated a few cookie sheets worth of skins in the oven at 200F for about 2 hours and blitzed them into flakes. Now what? I sprinkle them for color on dishes like the above, I have mixed them with salt to make tomato-salt, and use them to add a slight tomato seasoning to dishes.

Sunjewel Melon (Honeydew) & Prosciutto
Serving Size= 4-5 (appetizer). Prep time= 8 minutes. Cook time= 0.
1 Sunjewel, or honeydew-like, melon- cut into 2 inch pieces
1/2 pound prosciutto
2 tablespoons olive oil
basil flowers (for garnish) optional, or 2 teaspoons chopped basil
1 teaspoon tomato flakes (for garnish) optional or 1 teaspoon hot chili flakes

Slice thick prosciutto pieces in half lengthwise. Wrap a piece of prosciutto around each piece of melon and secure with a toothpick. Arrange on platter, drizzle olive oil over and sprinkle with basil flowers, tomato flakes, and/ or hot chili flakes.

I suppose these first two pictures both make lovely appetizers. This second one really needs a smell-o-vision computer screen. It’s a simple Camembert cheese covered in white truffle honey. Regular honey will do the trick, but if you can get your hands on truffle honey, it is well worth the hefty price.

This would make a lovely addition to a cheese plate, is so simple, yet is almost too decadent. I believe the picture explains the prep. If not: drizzle truffle honey over a nice piece of soft cheese, sprinkle with berries and serve. Can also serve with dried fruit and nuts on the side.

I believe it is safe to lay claim that this summer was the season of eggplants. I was a bit worried planting our eggplants when a fellow gardener told me she’d been gardening in the City for 15 years and was never successful with eggplants. Well behold! Not only did our garden produce an unbelievable bounty of eggplants (one day’s harvest from 4 plants is pictured above), our CSA managed to sneak eggplants into nearly every CSA box.

No complaints. D and I both love eggplant and made baba ganoush and similar dishes every chance we got. Luckily, we froze some baba and have it stored for a cold eggplant-less day this winter.

For a cozy twist on baba, traditionally served cold or at room temp, serve the side warm on bread or pita with a drizzle of  pomegranate molasses over top and/ or a sprinkle of ground lamb seasoned with allspice.

It was a short and busy summer and the fall is starting in a similar time-pressed fashion. While the weather has been a tease all month, I have to give up the pretense of summer when Fall Harvest Festivals, pumpkin patches, fall colors, and thoughts of Thanksgiving creep into the scene (and because I actually broke out the winter jacket over the weekend). I went into summer with so many projects in my field of vision, and while I am happy to say I completed most, my Just Braise time was sacrificed.

I have a backlog of photos I am wanting to share, and rather than pretend they all happened “last week” of whenever I post them, I decided to get the bulk of them out here now for everyone to enjoy. Round 2 in a few days with a possible Round 3 to follow.

With promises to keep my voice alive, here are some post-summer musings….

1) Corn.
D likes to claim he’s a southern boy when it comes to pork (he grew up in Virginia) and a mid-west boy when it comes to corn (his mother’s side is from Indiana). So when I queried D on what we should include in our city community garden plot, back when planting was a vision, corn was a must (the pig would have to wait for our own land). We didn’t know much about growing corn (or anything else) when we decided to plant it– We had heard something about tasseling, but upon speaking with our CSA farmers, decided that was something boys in Indiana cornfields do for a few pennies for some arcane reason no one could be sure of.

Other hints we received before planting:
(1) At least 12 stalks are ideal to get pollination going, and therefore create kernels.
(2) Small plots of corn like to be planted in squares– not rows– rows are for large fields, think pollination.

Some hints we did not receive– and didn’t research enough before planting:
(1) In small spaces, to avoid cross-pollination, you should plant all one corn variety– OR– early season and late season corn to avoid cross-pollination. The above picture is two of our different corn varieties with minimal cross-pollination. D and I planted 4 different corn varieties, 4 stalks of each variety– oops.
(2) Tasseling is what boys in Indiana cornfields do to prevent cross-pollination. (There might be machines these days that do this if needed though most farmers plant all one variety.)
(3) There does exist early-season, mid-season, and late-season corn. Let’s explain this a little. As first time gardeners, and not doing much garden reading before actually planting anything, much of our knowledge base was our own common sense, and anything we could ask others without being a pest. I always thought of August as corn month and therefore thought all corn was harvested in August. Apparently, we had an early corn variety and while I waited for August to roll around before picking any corn, I grew upset at one of our varieties that began to die in late July. Why? It was an early variety that was done producing. So while D was upstate for 3 weeks working and I was tending the garden, all I could think of was something is wrong with this one stupid corn variety. We’re not planting it next year. Eventually I realized it was early season corn and when D asked me why didn’t you pick it? My response was, what else? Because it wasn’t August.
(3) There does exist dwarf corn and tall corn varieties. And I now realize this is true for many other plants. Not only did I grow angry at our one corn variety that decided to die in July, I was also upset at it because it grew to a puny 4 feet while our other corn shot to a commanding 7 or 8 feet.

Lessons learned?
While D claims to not want to plant corn next year I may override his decision. This year was a learning year. Next year’s single variety will thrive!

2) Tomatoes.
Tomatoes can be beautiful things. I didn’t like them too much as a child unless they were in a sandwich, but see beyond the front pictured bowl to all those colorful objects? Tomatoes! Spectacular. If I had known all these tomatoes as a child I can only imagine the edible art I would have created with them.

Not by any means did D and I grow all these– but we did eat all these. In eating, we decided for the most part, all tomatoes have the same general flavor, though textures vary, and okay, some may have a more lemony acid or perhaps have more sweetness. We also decided that this pictured tomato is our absolute favorite. It was like a firecracker of color sliced open and we want more!

How we came upon the great tomato bounty: On one of our journeys to the East End of Long Island D and I (with my mother in tow) stopped at a roadside farm stand. Not just any farm stand– this woman sold heirloom tomatoes and that’s pretty much it (except for some garlic and small amounts of miscellaneous vegetables). Everyone we saw swerve off the road was there for the tomatoes, and with good reason.

They were beautiful specimens to behold and D and I made our round through her 40 or so boxes brimming with these shining, slightly imperfect orbs, careful to select one of each variety for taste and texture comparisons.

As we checked out we made sure the woman told us each and every variety. Most we could not remember, for more than a few days, but I can still remember (in partial) my favorites. Pictured is Big German (or something to that nature). I also loved the Cherokee Purple– and an Italian variety the farmer kissed, called an Italian Pear, and placed in our bag. Splendid.

3) Cucumbers.
I planted these cucumbers purely for their lovely name: Lemon Cucumber. Also, for their description as being a beautiful lemon yellow (when overripe) but also small baseball-sized fruits, making ideal pickling cucumbers. I thought this was a lovely picture of our cucumbers in their brine bath, all the same variety, just some more ripe than others.

Brine bath? Instead of a quick pickling method of vinegar, salt and sugar, I bought a crock pot and we brined these cucumbers on our counter, covered with a solution of 3 tablespoons sea salt to 1 liter water with added seasonings: dill, hot pepper flakes, coriander, mustard, pepper and garlic. Left for at least 4 weeks gently covered with a dish towel, these cucumbers naturally produced enough good bacteria, fermenting their way into pickles.

Really it sounds totally terrifying to leave something on the counter to ferment, but really, these pickles were some of the most delicious and unique pickles I have tasted– and many friends that took the dare to taste them agreed.

The biggest problem with air-fermented pickles is that they produce a scum on the surface of the water that needs to be skimmed daily. Sadly, there were 3 or 4 days in a row we forgot to skim the scum and while the pickles appeared, smelled and tasted okay, I think whatever bacteria that was left those days to reproduce might have taken over. A few days ago D and noticed their firm texture was slowly giving way to mush.

Over the weekend D and I gravely transfered our mushy pickles into the food processor and turned them into relish, filling a 1 quart jar. D added his own blend of seasonings– some honey and mustard, and left them overnight. Checking the seasonings, D declared them satisfactory. Sounds like hotdogs are in our future.

Lessons Learned: A 3 gallon crock pot holds a lot of pickles. Don’t save them– When pickles are at their peak, eat them!

It started in a tooth.

In my right canine, it began with a twitch. The pain reverberated from the tip, like a vampire craving a fix, I can still feel the desire. It shook my gums until my whole mouth was in pain, aching for a taste.

It filtered into my dreams.

I woke in the middle of the night, startled by what wasn’t there, worried another would take it from me.

There were rumors in the garden, it wasn’t without validation. In the country you deal with deer, in the City you deal with neighbors– and a rampant squirrel.

It became necessary for me to attend to the garden daily. Really just to survey, not to harvest. To ensure it was still there, huddled at the base of the corn stalk, lightly shaded by the beans on its new bed of straw; Lil’ Red, a Sugar Baby watermelon.

A few days later Red’s friend, Goldy (a Gold Baby watermelon, of course), disappeared. Snatched at dusk, the last of her kind, we never had a chance to taste– Goldy’s sister was attacked one night by the above rampant squirrel when just a child, we do not talk of the day’s discovery. We were told a neighborhood trio came into the garden, helped themselves to a bag of tomatoes, and as they made their way out, spotted our Goldy and stole her away. I can forgive tomatoes, but not the disappearance of Goldy.

The cantaloupes, all but two (our mystery melons that must have sprouted from our compost), are all eaten by us or attacked, again by the rampant squirrel, who has found a liking to the sweet muskmelon’s odor and tears them apart unforgivingly. Thankfully, D and I finished off the sweetest of the bunch, the Sleeping Beauty melons, our favorite, before the Squirrel realized his good fortune. So now down to only two watermelons (and two mystery melons), we covered them from the eyes of thieves and squirrels with a bundle of straw, only making their presence more obvious it seemed. We came, every night, to ensure their safety and existence.

But I couldn’t take it anymore and I think it got to D.

We pulled Lil’ Red last week. Up from his plush straw surrounds at the base of the corn where we had attended him for so many months. We photographed him in our arms, as good parents do, and gave him a gentle washing.

Then… we cut and devoured him. So quickly, he didn’t feel a thing, honest. We raised each slice above our heads, cheering our good fortune, allowing his pink juices to dribble down our arms. Lil’ Red’s crisp sweet pulp filled our mouths as we happily chewed. He was delicious.

An important garden lesson: you cannot stop a cucumber plant from going crazy– Actually, you cannot stop any vining plant from clinging and climbing wherever it sees fit. But let’s talk cucumbers.

I planted an heirloom variety known as lemon cucumber. Lemon because the resulting fruit is fairly lemon shaped and ripen from light green to a bright lemon yellow. When I checked on the plant two Fridays ago there were a number of flowers waiting to burst with fruit. I left for a week to visit D in upstate New York terrified I would miss out on a massive cucumber harvest. (Seriously, I had three different dreams about lost or unattended garden bounty.)

While upstate, I purchased a beautiful 3-gallon ceramic crock pot from a lovely antique dealer– really a gift for all those cucumbers ready to spring to life. When D and I returned Sunday we headed to the garden for our first massive harvest: corn, tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplant and ever more basil.

We’re overflowing with cucumbers now and decided to take action. Garden cucumbers head to the crock for brining and CSA cucumbers get crock treatment or turned into the great little snack you see pictured above. I’ll provide a picture of the brined cucumbers once the pickles are (hopefully) tasty and ready for the camera.

Until then, satisfy your cucumber (and tomato) bounty with this fresh and easy snack. I used a hearty cranberry-walnut bread as the base. Any other good bread will do, or go without bread, using the cucumber as a base. Top with any fresh herb and voila, a tasty garden treat.

Cucumber Bites
Serving Size= 5 piece. Prep time= 5 minutes.
5 small slices, or 2 larger slices cut small of cranberry-walnut bread
1 cucumber, sliced 1/2-inch thick
1 vine ripe tomato, sliced 1/2-inch thick
salt/ pepper to taste
5 slices, 1/4-inch thick, feta
fresh thyme for garnish (parsley, chives, parsley or cilantro will work too)
lemon spritz (optional)

Method: Toast bread until golden. Layer bread with cucumber and tomato. Season with salt and pepper then top with feta and a sprinkle of herbs. Add a spritz of lemon over top for some added zip.

All those blushed up tomatoes looking for attention have nothing on the eggplant. Her velvety leaves hide her delicate fruit from the passerby– so shy! Like a proper lady, she never goes out without a hat for the occasion.

So far, the garden has offered up three solid eggplants. One Black Eggplant, one India Paint and one Rosa Bianca. The only problem is that it is not enough. I crave more of the earthy flesh! If all my tomatoes turned into eggplant I would be a happy camper.

Below is a garden growing montage. One that displays (most) of the vegetables growing fairly. You’ll still notice a favoritism on the eggplant– as well as the watermelons. But corn is represented nicely here, as are the beans.

Although it appears everything is happily growing along, initial pictures are deceiving. Take a closer look at the zucchini (middle). Notice the brown around the roots? About two weeks ago I saw small white maggots on the stem near the root. I pointed them out to D, noting we needed to take action. D’s response: Those are good, they’re natural. I read the book about soil, it’s okay, just let them be.

I had my doubts on that one. When are maggots ever a good thing when food is around? Stupidly, I let them be.

I returned a few days later to find the zucchini bush in a sad state, teetering on the brink of death. This picture represents what I thought to be the last of the run. After some research I came to believe those little buggers were root maggots, sure to devour and kill my crop, attacking at the root. I contemplated mail ordering beneficial nematodes (uh, what?), but decided a first step was a concoction of onion-garlic-hot pepper. I liberally spritzed and sneezed it on everything in site.

My next return was a happy discovery. Whether the maggots also sneezed their way into oblivion, fried in the 95 degree heat after I moved the leaves aside exposing them to elements, or, forbid it, hatched and flew away, they were gone. The zucchini has survived, albeit, a slight amputee.

Next is the corn. I thought everything was going along smoothly, though D is worried about tasseling– most veggies have their male/female parts right next to each other, making pollination easy. But corn has tassels at the top and silks on the husk. Each silk is linked to a corn kernel and must be pollinated from a tassel above to produce an edible kernel of corn. In large fields, tasseling happens by wind (or bugs if they survive the pesticides) or any other method I am not aware Big Ag does to tassel. In small plots, tasseling can be done by hand. Hopefully, our 18 corn is a large enough plot to tassel themselves, I have noticed many a bee hanging out on the tassels.

While D is worried about tasseling, I noticed the corn pictured in the middle right the other week. Who got a hold of that one! And there best not have been any kernels on that exposed cob!

So that is the growing update. I have eaten more than my share of zucchini for a lifetime, a few eggplants, and a severely under-ripe melon I picked in sheer excitement (I stir fried it up with the eggplant). And a pressure canner has arrived, ready to be put to work. Grow baby grow!

It has been forever…

The New York City school year wrapped up this week and I’ve been busy planning a farm-to-school nutrition education program for public school 4th graders, starting in fall 2008. This project, a one-month food advocacy course, led by the local organization Just Food, a visiting 17-year old cousin from Tennessee and weeding my garden– despite D’s assurance that gardens need no work once planted, consumed my energies these past weeks. (And the beautiful weather, of course.)

Food is to come and perhaps a special appearance by D describing his new kombucha project.

In the meantime, you can see the above picture of how much the City Garden has evolved from week one and check out these interesting links below.

In the picture, corn at back, silks are already starting to show! This past week we planted beans at their base. To the left of those (off camera) are my tomatoes, basil, Brussels sprouts and D’s tobacco. Already making excellent headway. Just in front of the corn is eggplant, and mixed peppers (sweet, hot and paprika) are in front of that. Then winter squash to the right, lots of grass yet to be pulled, and the two lighter plants in the front are watermelons.

Links…

My food advocacy class provided this great link, On Day One. What do you want the new president to do on his first day in office? My favorite is linked here: turn the white house lawn into a garden, providing local food to the white house and local food pantries. You can place your vote, or submit your own, on a number of topics.

As a reaction to turning all our lawns into gardens, here’s a piece from Alternet: Turning Your Lawn into a Victory Garden Won’t Save You– Fighting Corporations Will.

A taste of what’s to come:

Homemade goat yogurt
Strawberry madness
Berry crepes
Simple Summer Appetizers
July 4th Food ideas

In elementary school we had all-school spring and winter recitals. The school music teacher challenged us with songs that often times went over our heads, and were pure enjoyment of our parents. Most notable was the Beatles, When I’m 64, where we spent weeks on definitions and proper accents of words– not exactly something a second grader is keen on. Many other songs have stuck with me, like Les Miserables’ Castle on a Cloud and Fifty Nifty, which continues to amaze friends at parties. One of my favorite songs we learned was the Garden Song (a clear vocal YouTube rendition here).

Inch by inch, row by row, Gunna make this garden grow…

As one might expect, land is precious in New York City and there is little of it to go around. When I tell people I keep a few buckets of plants in the front of my apartment they are amazed I have outdoor space for even this small project. This year, after much deliberation, D and I were lucky enough to acquire a plot at the 2-year old Two Coves Community Garden.

All it takes is a rake and a hoe, And a piece of fertile ground.

But still, there are some who cannot comprehend how dear land is in the city. In my neighborhood especially, there is little green space. A community garden is an anomaly because it takes space that could potentially be used by many (say as a park), and divides it into individual plots (unless a whole community gardens one large plot together as I have heard happens in many Detroit, MI community gardens).

Someone bless these seeds I sow, Someone warm them from below.

The plots at Two Coves are refreshingly larger than at most other community gardens, averaging about 10 ft x 10 ft (my space is about 10 ft x 15 ft; because there are 2, sometimes more, of us working it). Most other gardens I have seen are around 4 ft x 4 ft. Even so, when I told my father, who grew up in the City and understands land value here, I had a plot at a community garden, he asked if it was a 100 ft x 20 ft plot. That would be the size of an entire lot!? (That also can easily sell for a few million dollars depending on the area!) I hardly have something that size.

‘Til the rains come tumbling down…

In the past, my bucket “garden” was mostly greens that can grow in partial sun. This year it has become mostly herbs. As food production goes, it is fairly minimal. As members of a Community Supported Agriculture group, D and I grappled with questions of why we would need more vegetables. But as people who one day want to leave the City for some land and have a garden of our own, the answer eventually fell to yes, this garden would be our land of experimentation (and maybe some canning produce to bring us through the winter).

Pulling weeds and picking stones,

Of course, gardening in New York City is not like gardening in your private backyard. There are members who view the space as therapeutic alone time, while for others it is an opportunity to vocalize their garden knowledge. For better of for worse, you have the opinions, suggestions and advice of each and every gardener in your small plot of land. I love these differences of opinion and welcome everyones’ advice, pulling from it what I may to help my own plot grow stronger. Over the season, I see us forming a garden family, with each gardeners space an extension of the personality that helped grow it.

Man is made from dreams and bones… Feel the need to grow my own…

This year, D and I had a late start and I purchased most of our plants as seedlings from Silver Heights Organic Farm. Hopefully next year we will have enough produce to harvest some seeds to plant next season. We are hoping whatever does come to fruition will be enough to can or dry for supplement through the winter. We are growing:

4 sweet corn varieties
4 bean varieties (we will be planting the seeds in another week at the base of the corn)
2 tobacco varieties
3 winter squash varieties

* Note that the above 4 are known to Native Americans as the 4 Sisters. They grow in harmony with each other, replacing nitrogen in soil, used as natural coverings to keep out weeds, and as natural pest control.

4 eggplant varieties
4 pepper varieties (hot, sweet and paprika)
2 varieties of canning tomatoes
2 Brussels sprout varieties
2 watermelon varieties
1 cucumber
6 heads of bok choi
2 bushes of currants
misc herbs: basil, oregano, chives, lemon balm, catnip, summer savory, purslane, chamomile and a few others (these will be planted near partner plants to work as natural pest controls.)

Of course, in on all of this are my composting worms. Happily munching away at my food scraps to create more organic fertilizer for everything. My next goal is to convince the garden we should get some city chickens running around!

I’m guest blogging over at Sustainable Table. My first post is all about vermicomposting (worm composting). Truly, not as disgusting as it sounds (or looks). Since picking up my worms I have swayed many unbelievers– including D who first thought my worms totally gross and now gets extremely mad if we forget to feed them or throw something out that could be destined for the worms.

So many have changed their tune that at our last party I had a group of 8 friends standing around our worm bin asking questions and participating in a feeding (I kid you not and swear most parties do not resort to worms for entertainment or conversation).

Composting is a great solution to stamp out our dependency on synthetic fertilizers, especially petroleum-based ones. It is easy to accomplish in any space– from small scale apartments to large farms. What to do with the compost? Your houseplants and garden will love the rich compost you provide for them. Not much of a planter? Donate your harvested compost to a community garden, neighbor or friend who does plant. You’ll have a friend for life (and maybe some veggies out of the deal!).

Vermicomposting is ideal indoors in a small apartment or house. You can find these, dare I say, fashionable, cedar worm bins on ebay (my friend L has one and loves how it blends into her decor). I have a basic plastic bin with a lid I bought at a discount store for about $10. A bin that will fit under the kitchen sink is a perfect size for a small family.

There are no noticeable bad smells associated with vermicomposting. The only smell will be a sweet Earthiness, and only noticeable when the bin is open, during feeding time. You can still go on vacation when you have your worms and they are not nearly as difficult to care for as a cat, dog, or even fish!

Head over to my post on Sustainable Table: Vermicomposting 101 to read the ins and outs of vermicomposting.

It’s almost August and I’ve mentioned only a peep about my bucket garden. It has been growing strong since it last popped on the screen back in March. Time flies.

Back then, I planted my kitchen herb garden as I held out for weather to agree with my outdoor buckets (above). The update: A few noble patches sprouted. I grew excited. But they quickly retreated into the black earth. Just a quick tease. Hello. Goodbye. Not enough sun? Did I open the window for a cool breeze that hit them at just the wrong moment of development? We will never know.

Thoroughly jaded, I went to the local bodega to purchase baby herb plants: rosemary, cilantro and basil. I planted them in those same little death inducing containers and stuck them outside on the kitchen windowsill. (By this time May had slipped in and the weather was more agreeable.) They were going strong. The cilantro was a power house, added to guacamole, lime shrimp, fish tacos and as accents on salads. The basil grew and grew. The rosemary was forest-like. So what happened?

I entrusted these herbs to my mother… I returned from California and spotted a dry and whithered cilantro, a faltering basil, and a limp rosemary:

Didn’t you water them?

No, but… well… It rained today.

This from a woman who coos and mists her orchids nightly. I was able to nurture the basil and rosemary back to life. The cilantro’s charred skeleton remains on the windowsill. A testament to abandonment.

But the buckets… Ah the buckets outside. Those are another story.

I am a lazy gardener. But I prefer to call it survival gardening– for the plants, not me.

After last years garden died out it wasn’t until one of those 70 degree days in December that I got around to pulling the dead stalks and tilling the earth slightly. Come March, when seeds arrived, I was gifted some compost from a lovely friend, mixed it in, threw seeds on and sprinkled them slightly with water.

I haven’t touched the buckets since. No pruning, no weeding, no watering (okay, maybe 2 or 3 times I did drag buckets of water outside to water my bucket garden). See, survival gardening– only the strong plants survive.

Despite my lack of effort, for this, the third year of the bucket garden, I have a small, slow-growing colony. Left to their own devices for the bulk of the summer, through storm and sun, my plants surprised me. For weeks now I have been walking past my buckets running errands or catching appointments saying, “tonight I will weed you, no worries.” The night would come and go and I would promise the buckets tomorrow, tomorrow again. Finally, the weeds grew so tall and strong I could hardly make out the plants from the invaders.

I returned from the fish monger and could stand it no more. I plunkered down for some serious weeding. To my great surprise my plants pushed through: arugula, radish, endive, Swiss chard and mixed lettuce. I applauded my darlings, took a picture (above), then retrieved my shears to snip away for a salad of my delayed efforts.