Towering above the rest,
Stubborn weed holds fast.
Towering above the rest,
Stubborn weed holds fast.
Ah, food. So much better prepared and shared.
My struggling garden is humbly offering its meager treasures this year. It’s partly my fault. Procrastination and I were deep in conversation when the time came to amend the soil. Before I knew it, planting time was nearly over. Quickly, tomatoes, zucchini, eggplant, peppers and squash were thrust into the soil. Then the heat came, and with the heat, the bindweed and pigweed and purslane, along with tender volunteer tomatillo plants. The garden and I took a break from each other. It wasn’t ready to give me any treasures, and I didn’t see that my dripping sweat would offset the benefits of burgeoning weed patch removal. Also, I have pretty recently learned from my Mexican mother-in-law that pigweed and purslane (and many other weeds growing around the property) are delicious and healthy cooked up in a salsa laden broth. So they grew in tandem, and I waited.
Gardening is not for the impatient.
Zucchini were the first to say hello. My mother-in-law was here when they showed up both in flower and the familiar grocery store form, so we grabbed them and made some fantastic quesadillas, al estilo mexicano, with real masa instead of tortillas. She continued to get up early and harvest flowers, chopping and freezing them to add sunshine to a long and dreary winter.
Our next visitor was the watermelon, an heirloom variety called Sugar Baby. It seems that it loved the heat. Now, I’m not a huge fan of watermelon, but in sharing it with my husband on a blisteringly hot summer day I may have been converted. It wasn’t quite ripe to the edges when we picked it, but boy, oh, boy was it sweet! All the way to the rind. Sadly, it was the only one on the plant.
Like mini Christmas lights, tomatoes are now beginning to color the garden. My industrious husband had the idea of stringing them up on hog panels, so they are the first thing you see when you come to the garden, little dots of red on smallish green bushes. They are Juliet grape tomatoes. I discovered them last year, and when they prolifically burst into colorful abundance, I got to work looking for things to do with them. If you have never tried tomatoes roasted in the oven with garlic, a dash of olive oil and sea salt, step away from your computer right now, go find some grape tomatoes, and try this. It’s that good. Last year we ate them like candy. I had hoped to roast and freeze them, but I was never fast enough. What wasn’t eaten on the spot went onto sandwiches and into eggs. My mouth waters at the thought of reliving this experience.
The Serrano chilies are blistering to the tongue, another effect of the early heat, I presume. We live in an area where summers are usually relatively cool, but we had a record breaking June and July this year, and the chilies are a late season reminder. I also planted a Padron variety this season. The Padrons I had tasted previously were mild, but this plant has some heat. I’ve used them in my salsa in place of some Serranos and find that they deepen the flavor, getting rave reviews from my daughter.
The rest of my vegetable garden is blanketed in pumpkin leaves. I groan at the work that lays before me, roasting and freezing and dehydrating pumpkin. But soon we will be sharing pumpkin bread and cookies and pancakes. We will try things like pumpkin curry and soup. A little work now for a wheelbarrow full of enjoyment later. I can deal with that.
And we are not the only ones benefiting from the garden’s bounty. Our little flock of hens devours anything we toss their way, repaying us with humble brown and green eggs for our Sunday breakfasts.
Food is more than just fuel for the body. It is connection with the land. It is shared experience, a way of drawing closer together, of learning things from each other and enjoying one another’s company. Preparing food for people is a way to show love. When we distance ourselves, whether by choosing pre-packaged, highly processed foods that are quickly prepared or eating mono-colored food passed through a car window, we lose some element of this. Life is not about existing. It’s about living. So plant a tomato, or head down to your local farmer’s market. Breathe in the heady, soil rich aroma of natural things. Peruse Pinterest and Food.com for recipes. Try something new, and by all means, gather together for food.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Red Pill, Blue Pill.”If you could get all the nutrition you needed in a day with a pill — no worrying about what to eat, no food preparation — would you do it?
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