The fact that my novel, A Love Like No Other: Abigail and John Adams, A Modern Love Story has won a Mom’s Choice Award!
AND The Kirkus Review of
The fact that my novel, A Love Like No Other: Abigail and John Adams, A Modern Love Story has won a Mom’s Choice Award!
AND The Kirkus Review of
Two days ago, I planted half of the hardneck garlic I intend to put in this year. I had chosen a bed that hadn’t held any last season and yanked out the desiccated tomato plants (we picked our last green ones, which are turning red on the porch as I write, about five days ago) and the defunct peppers. Loosened the soil with a fork, weeded what needed to be weeded and planted the cloves that I’d chosen from among the largest bulbs I’d grown this past year.
Since I first learned about hardneck garlic from Colchester CSA manager and grower, Theresa Mycek, probably ten years ago, and started planting it in my own garden, I’ve come to depend on it. Hardneck garlic is terrific because it’s delicious, beautiful (those tall green tops with the curlicue scapes are such a nice visual counterpoint to the clumpy greens and beans), and like a culinary Double-mint gum: it’s two, two, two garlics in one.
The first one is the scape.
Wait; let me back up a little. First, sometime in late-October through November, you sit outside on a nice autumn day, separate garlic bulbs into cloves and plant the cloves about 8 inches apart – I plant in a grid, others do it in rows – in a prepared bed. Tuck them in gently beneath straw or some other light but effective mulch. In spring when the earth wakes up, the green shoots start coming through the mulch. In about May, you notice that the shoots have grown rather tall – knee high at least. In maybe mid-June, when the tall stiff shoots have continued to grow and are now curled around themselves a bit (i.e. turned into true scapes), you clip or break them off – it’s kinda like asparagus; you snap them where they are happy to be snapped – bring them in and cook them any one of a number of ways. We sometimes tempura them, or grill them for a great snack/ hors d’oeuvre/side dish, chop them into omelets, sauté them with other veggies, quick-pickle them in the fridge in a vinegar-and-herb-and-peppercorn bath or hang them by the kitchen door to ward off vampires. Whatever.
In July-ish, when the green tops have browned and died back sufficiently, you dig – or pull, depending on how soft the bed is – the now cloved-up bulbs, wipe off the earth, and hang them up to dry. (I clump them in bunches of about 6-8 bulbs and hang them on the back porch). Then you use them. They go into the spaghetti sauce I can during tomato-and-pepper harvest, into chicken cacciatore (which is ONLY truly delicious when made in season with fresh garlic, fresh basil and fresh parsley plucked only a few minutes before chopping into the red-wine-soaked braising liquid), into the oven to spread on homemade bread with good olive oil, into salad dressings, well, you get the idea. But if you’ve planned right and the fates have shined on you and your little bed of hardneck garlic, you will also have enough to save, separate into cloves and plant to continue the whole cycle. The miracle of gardening and life perpetuating itself.
This year, I prepped one bed, but the second bed I wanted to plant was a knotted thicket of wire grass, wild aster, which has determined root systems, and the bind weed just to put a topping on it all. My husband volunteered to dig it all for me, bless him, so this afternoon I’m going to sit outside with the dog, separate six more garlic bulbs into cloves and plant that bed.
When I’m in prayer position on my knees stuffing the cloves – or anything for that matter – into the ground, I think about a little garden plaque a friend gave me years ago that said: Who plants a seed beneath the sod and waits to see believes in God. It’s an acknowledgement that while we can become really good gardeners, we are all at the mercy of so many other elements in life beyond our own control. But I have faith. And I keep on planting.
Posted in Food News, Hardneck garlic, In The Garden, Our World, Planting garlic, Sunday Cooking, Sustainable Living, Weekend Cooking | Tagged Garlic scapes, growing vegetables, growing your own food, growing your own garlic, healthy living, organic gardening, vegetable gardening, winter vegetables | 2 Comments »
My latest essay in The Christian Science Monitor’s Home Forum:
My husband is outside our office, splitting wood. In between the rhythmic thwack! of the splitting maul, he’s singing Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy.” Except, he’s not singing words. He’s buzzing the melody. Buzz buzz buzz buzz (whack) buzz buzz buzz buzz (whack) buzz buzz buzz buzz buuuuzzzz bz bz. It must have something to do with the bees.
After 40-plus years as captain of oceangoing tug and barge units, Gary retired last summer – and took up beekeeping.
To read more go to:
This was a hard spring for many of us – we had frost over here on the upper Eastern Shore of Maryland in May with plenty of rain and cool, overcast days – all of which put most of us into something of a funk and at least two or three weeks behind in planting. In fact, while the rule of thumb around here is: Put tomatoes in on Mother’s Day, we were lucky to get them in by Memorial Day, which is the rule of thumb way up in the Adirondacks!
But the LETTUCE! It’s the best lettuce year I can remember having. I had started red leaf and butter Bibb in my little greenhouse late (due to a greenhouse disaster, which also set me back), then brought ‘em out to harden off, hauled ‘em back in several times to prevent getting trashed by the cold and critters (it’s been a blowout bunny year — while writing this, I heard a ruckus in the flower bed outside my office window and had to chase — yes chase! — a rabbit out). In about the middle of May, I finally put the little lettuce plants in the ground under row cover, as both protection and camouflage. It woiked! as Curly (of Larry Moe and…) would have said.
I only began cutting heads of lettuce a maybe three weeks ago, a time when it’s usually starting to bolt around here – and have almost finished as of this morning. Maybe one or two more days and this first flush will be gone.
I’m going to shove some seeds into a partially shaded patch in the veg garden in another day or two and cover them with row cover in hopes of getting some salad greens despite the young rabbit that let me accidentally step on him (scared us both to pieces and we both screeched) while putting a couple of wizened cuke plants along with some cuke seeds into a patch on the north end of the peas, some of which I had for lunch with shallots and prosciutto for lunch – hooray! We’re actually having a garden this year. Food glorious food!
When I first heard of grafted tomato plants, I thought: Grafting? Of annuals? Really? Grafting woody perennials, yes. The time, attention and effort required to produce a successful graft rewards us with years of fruit (trees) and/or beauty (think: roses). But all that work for the tender stems of tomato plants that only last a season? Yet grafted tomatoes, watermelon, cucumber, eggplant, and peppers are catching on worldwide — and for good reason.
Grafting joins two plants of the same species but different varieties to create one plant. It’s designed to be a marriage of strengths – usually disease resistant roots (stock) wedded to a top cutting (scion) of a less disease-resistant but more appealing variety, for example vigorous Maxifort tomato root stock joined to the scion of luscious heirloom Tangerine tomatoes.
The process of grafting annual vegetable plants is theoretically simple. Take a plant with a strong rootstock, slice off its green top at an angle then slice through the stem of the desired top-growth plant (scion) cutting off its roots. Mate the sliced ends of the two plants and clip them together until the slice heals.
“The plant can begin to draw nutrients within 10 seconds,” says Peter Zuck, vegetable product manager at Johnny’s Selected Seeds in Winslow, ME, which sells grafted plants, “but the after care of the newly joined seedling is critical.”
As soon as the graft is made, plants must be kept at just the right temperature (70-74F) and humidity (80%-90%) and remain in low light to prevent top growth while the graft heals completely.
“Some people incorrectly think of it as similar to genetic engineering,” says John Bagnasco, managing partner at SuperNaturals Grafted Vegetables in Vista, CA, “but it’s not at all.”
Grafting has been a horticultural practice for centuries. The Bible mentions grafting olive trees in the book of Romans. The Chinese grafted the strong roots of wild tree peonies to their favorite cultivated stems in the 9th century.* But grafted annual vegetables and fruits are a relatively recent addition to the horticultural pantheon.
“The Japanese began grafting them about thirty years ago,” says Bagnasco, who notes that Japan struggles with depleted, disease-prone, and challenging soils. “They have to graft to get
them to grow.”
Additionally, the 1997 Kyoto Protocols, which outlawed methol bromide used to control soil-borne fungal, bacterial and viral diseases, prompted an upsurge in the use of grafted annuals among its 197 signers, who needed an effective alternative to the pesticide.
“Almost 100% of the watermelons grown in Mexico are grafted now,” says Zuck.
In 2011, it was estimated that 1 billion grafted fruiting annuals were sold worldwide. In 2015, the number was 1.5 billion.
“Most were watermelon plants and most were sold in China,” says Bragnasco.
In addition to disease-resistance, the grafted plants tend to stand up to the kinds of climatic and regional stressors — soil salinity, temperature extremes, short seasons, and lower light — that can doom a vegetable garden, especially that succulent emblem of summer: tomatoes.
“Tomatoes don’t care for the broiling hot weather we have in summers around here,” says John Campbell of Annapolis, MD. Campbell has been growing grafted tomatoes in his home garden for ten years. “If the weather stays above 90 degrees for more than five days, they slow up on production. What I have found is that the grafted tomatoes suffer through this rotten summer weather with no problems, and I have not had any problems with disease.”
In addition to withstanding stressors, grafted vegetable plants can produce well despite less than optimal light. Most vegetables require six to eight hours of direct sunlight a day to fruit well.
“I had a small lot in Belfast [ME] with mature trees,” says Zuck. The tomatoes got about five hours of direct sun coupled with dappled sunlight and shade the rest of the day. “I found that the grafted plants helped me overcome that. They were much bigger and more productive than the non-grafted plants.”
“The plants produce anywhere from twice to three times the fruit, and they are exceedingly hardy,” says Campbell.
Another advantage for the home gardener with limited space is that grafting bypasses the need to rotate crops, a common practice used to avoid recurring soil-borne problems. Although grafted vegetable plants are obviously more expensive than non-grafted, for many home gardeners it’s worth it.
* An Illustrated History of Gardening, by Anthony Huxley, Lyons Press, 1978.
Posted in Food News, grafted vegetables, grafting tomato plants, Growing tomatoes, In The Garden, root disease resistance in vegetable plants, stronger tomato plants, Sustainable Living, tomatoes | Tagged grafted tomatoes, growing vegetables, growing your own food, healthy eating, healthy living, organic gardening, root disease resistance, root stock, tomato production, tomato root stock, vegetable gardening | Leave a Comment »
Until we moved to an old house on two patchwork-planted acres, I had never seen a flowering quince. When I first inspected them in June, I was under-whelmed. Each was a thicket of twiggy, green-leafed branches armed with lethal spikes like something out of Br’er Rabbit’s briar patch. Expendable — or so I thought. Then I tried to extract one.
“To pull it out, you need to dig a big enough hole to get a chain around it and hook the chain to a pick-up!” laughs Brent Walston, owner of Evergreen Gardenworks in Kelseyville, CA.
I left the plant, but spent the next two seasons plotting its removal. Then in February, it bloomed. And its virtue dawned. (A lesson in giving plants a full year before deciding to trash or keep them). Dark, elegantly bent, leafless branches were suddenly covered with rose-red buds in a beautiful burst of color, a spirit-lifting contrast to the general monochrome surrounding it.
“The flowers are incredibly beautiful,” notes Gene Sumi, garden horticulturist at Homestead Gardens in Davidsonville, MD. “They are striking in an early spring landscape. That’s when they really shine.”
“The Chinese go crazy for red flowering quince for Chinese New Year,” adds Walston. “Their early spring bloom time coincides with the celebration.”
Their bloom time is not only early, it’s long, another virtue. For several spectacular weeks buds open in leisurely succession, creating an enduring burst of color. Additionally, they force well in water inside. In a vase, three blooming branches look like a Japanese silkscreen –- for weeks.
Though it’s a native of China, flowering quince (Chaenomeles), aka ornamental quince aka japonica has also been cultivated in Japan for centuries and is a favorite plant for bonsai (the painstaking Japanese art of potted miniaturized trees and shrubs). The Dutch introduced flowering quince to Long Island in the late 17th century and by the 18th century, it was popular for hedging in New England due to both its hardiness and its prickly ability to keep out unwanted livestock.
Despite the name, flowering quince is not the same plant as the quince fruit tree (Cydonia sinensis), which is not hardy in Maryland. However, the shrubby flowering quince does produce small, rock-hard fruits (though mine never have; they’re in too much shade) that Europeans use to make a tart jam and that the Chinese use medicinally for liver and spleen complaints and to promote blood circulation.
While they can also be useful for erosion control and prowler prevention if planted beneath windows, the primary pleasure of flowering quinces are their beautiful, apple-blossom like flowers. (The double-flowered varieties look like camellia blooms).
“Some blooms are pastel shades,” says Sumi. “Others are very bright. There is one called ‘Crimson and Gold’ that has a brilliant red flower with showy yellow anthers.”
Colors range from white `Nivalis’ to the bright red profusion of ‘Texas Scarlet’ and dark red of ‘Simonii’ to orange with shades and hues in between. ‘Rosea Plena’ is pale rose pink. ‘Apple Blossom’ has white flowers that turn pink with age. ‘Falconet Charlotte’ has deep pink flowers and ‘Cameo’ is a rich salmon. Each bloom of ‘Toyo Nishiki,’ is a combination of pink, white and red.
While many flowering quinces range from 4-10 feet in height, there are also prostrate varieties, like ‘Jet Trail’, with pure white flowers and ‘Iwai Nishiki’ whose dark red blooms tend to form clusters sometimes six inches across. Small, contorted varieties, whose stems are exaggeratedly twisted and gnarled, are nice for landscaping but are particularly good for bonsai. ‘Hime,’ with solid red flowers and showy yellow stamens is a favorite, as is ‘Kan Toyo,’ whose pink flowers are only about 1/2 inch across. ‘Red Contorted’ has solid red buds that open to a deep pink.
Cold-hardy and drought-resistant, flowering quince thrives in almost any soil. They like full sun, though they must be protected from midday-sun in excessive heat, and will bloom, though less effusively, in light shade. Their big drawback is their vigorous growth habit.
“They can get quite large if left unchecked,” warns Walston. “Some of big ones like ‘Toyo Nishiki’ can get to be 10-15 feet tall if you don’t prune.”
Pruning regularly, either during or immediately after blooming, will keep a flowering quince civilized. For least maintenance, Walston recommends buying semi-dwarf and dwarf varieties like ‘Orange Delight,’ which gets only four feet tall.
“They’re the best for most landscapes since they won’t get out of hand and you don’t have to prune to keep them in line,” he says.
743 W. Central Ave.
P.O. Box 537
Kelseyville, CA 95451
Gerry’s Tree and Shrub Nursery
PO Box 311
A0G 1Y0 Telephone:
5050 SE Stark
Portland, OR 97215
This article was first published in The Baltimore Sun in 2011.
It’s slightly more complicated than your fourth grade biology project, but a whole lot more rewarding: starting your own garden plants from seed indoors.
“It’s a lot of fun,” says veteran gardener Tina Beneman. “There’s nothing more exciting than seeing the seeds sprout, especially when everything outside is dormant and gray.”
For years Beneman has been starting seeds for everything from vegetables to annuals and perennials. One reason is cost. “I love abundance but the cost a packet of seeds versus what you’d pay to buy the plants is incredible.”
Starting your own offers a much broader choice of varieties too. Though garden centers are rapidly expanding their plant and seed varieties, few will offer things like fluted Costoluto Genovese Tomato, Bolivian Rainbow Pepper, or Ragged Robin ‘Jenny’ (Lychniss flos-cuculi), a retrieved Elizabethan favorite whose blossoms are a scrim of tattered pink pompoms.
“When you get the seed and start plants yourself, you can get exactly the varieties that you want,” says Mark Willis, vegetable seed production manager at Harris Seeds in Rochester, NY.
Catalogues, whose jewel-like photos beckon with promises of gorgeous summer gardens and marvelous meals, offer a fantastic range of choices. In addition, many also offer recipes, generations-old garden wisdom, and mini-portraits of vegies, flowers, and herbs, including plant history, seed provenance, taste and hints on cultivation. Yet the wealth of choices can be overwhelming. To winnow, consider what you really want in your garden and on your table.
“We can get a lot more variety through local farmers’ markets now,” notes Ellen Ogden, former owner of The Cook’s Garden in Warminster, PA. “So I chose what to plant [at home] based on what I like to cook and can’t get at the local farmer’s market [or supermarket].”
In addition to salad greens and annual herbs for daily harvest, Ogden always plants Sungold Tomatoes, which can be hard to find in garden centers, and Bright Lights Swiss Chard, which is beautiful, delicious, and produces for months.
“You can also choose what to plant based on your garden size, location, and soil type,” says Erica Renaud, home gardener and research farmer at Seeds of Change. A north-facing garden will do better with spinach and salad greens than with sun-worshipers like eggplant, basil, tomatoes and squash. Soil type matters too. “Carrots grown in the clay soil I had when I lived in Ohio just didn’t taste good,” says Renaud.
“It’s a good idea to check with your extension service to find out what varieties do best here and what ones not to plant,” suggests Cindy King, horticulturist at Kingstown Farm Home and Garden Center in Chestertown, MD.
“We’re so lucky in Maryland. All the tomatoes grow well,” says Jon Traunfeld of the MD Cooperative Extension Service. Even so, Traunfeld has some favorites: Amish Paste and San Remo paste for sauce. Celebrity, a good all-round tomato whose plants grow a manageable 4-5 feet tall, Rutgers, Jetstar and Big Beef are good slicers. In heirlooms, he recommends the early-fruiting Russians — Black Krim and Black Tula.
“Prudence Purple is like Brandywine but seems to produce better than Brandywine,” he says. “And we’ve had really good luck with Golden Queen, a yellow tomato from Landis Valley Farm Museum in Lancaster Co. It’s smooth, doesn’t crack and has really good flavor.”
Traunfeld says all eggplant varieties do equally well here in Maryland, but recommends the Italian frying peppers over the bells, which take longer to ripen and don’t produce as prolifically as the Italians. The Italian frying peppers are also beautiful.
“They come in different colors when ripe,” he says. “And they have very
thin skin not like the thicker skin of the bells.” Marconi and Corno di toro (bull‘s horn) peppers are trusted favorites.
In choosing what to try starting from seed, consider production factors, too. If you have limited indoor growing space as well as limited garden space, you may want to forego the Brassicas [broccoli, cabbage, Brussels sprouts], which take lots of room and produce lots less food per plant than tomatoes and peppers, which keep coming and coming. And remember: something old; something new works for the garden too.
“I always try a little something new to keep experimenting both in the garden and in the kitchen,” says Renaud.
Start peppers, which are slow to germinate and grow indoors, 10-12 weeks from when you plan to set them out about mid-May.
“Start eggplant maybe 10 weeks before you put them out,” advises Traunfeld. “And tomatoes only need about 6 weeks.”
“I’ve learned a lot about plants just by starting seed indoors and watching them grow,” says Beneman. “You get an intuitive understanding about what they need. And you don’t have to contend with rabbits and deer and other attackers – at least until you put them in the ground!”
Catalogue Sources for Seeds
(Some also have seed starting supplies).
Seed Savers Exchange, 3094 North Winn Rd., Decorah, IA 52101, 563-382-5990
Harris Seeds, 355 Paul Rd., P.O. Box 24966, Rochester, NY 14624-0966, 800-544-7938
Seeds of Change, P.O. Box 4908, Rancho Dominguez, CA 90220, 888-762-7333
Select Seeds, 180 Stickney Hill Rd., Union CT 06076-4617, 800-684-0395
Burpee, Warminster, PA 18974, 800-888-1447
The best way to grow the exact varieties you want is to start your own transplants from seed indoors. Equipment can range from the simple (small tabletop germination station at $20) to a major investment. Regardless of scale, there are four keys to success.
“Start with a good quality seed starting mix,” says Mark Willis, vegetable seed production manager at Harris Seeds in Rochester, NY. Some mixes are sterile to prevent inadvertent disease and bacteria infestations. Others include micro-nutrients provided by worm castings and mealworm guano. Also make sure containers are sterile.
To germinate well, seeds need bottom heat, which can be supplied by the top of the frig or a heat mat. Once seedlings have popped through, unplug the mat.<
Light is critical for sturdy transplants.
“You want at least 10-12 hours of direct natural light,” says Willis, “or supplement with full spectrum florescent lights.” Artificial light should stay within two inches of plant tops. If light is weak, or too far away, seedlings will ‘stretch’ (grow tall and weak-stemmed).
Seedlings need to be kept just-moist, never sodden. Too much moisture will cause tender plants to rot and die off.
Finally, plant early but not too early. “You have to calculate backwards from the outdoor planting date so you’re not trying to hold transplants in the house too long,” says Thierer. “We have handouts to tell when to plant which seeds, when to start hardening them off and when to plant out.”
5100 Schenley Place, Lawrenceburg, IN 47025, 513-354-1482
This place has the best seed starting mix I’ve ever tried.
Maryland Local Garden Centers
seeds and seed starting supplies:
Behnke Nurseries, 11300 Baltimore Ave., Beltsville, MD 20705, 301-937-1100
They also have a month-by-month to-do list for gardeners
Valley View Farms, 11035 York Rd., Cockeysville, MD, 410-527-0700
Kingsdene Nurseries and Garden Center, 16435 York Rd., Monkton, MD 21111, 410-343-1150
Homestead Gardens, 743 W. Central Ave., Davidsonville, MD, 410-798-5000
Kingstown Farm, Home, and Garden Center, 7121 Church Hill Rd., Chestertown, MD 21620,
410-778-1551, kingstown farm home and garden