Last weekend while preparing a medley of roasted root vegetables for lunch, I popped outside to collect fresh herbs, as I often do, a pair of scissors in hand.

Living in a place where I can see the garden from the kitchen and simply pop outside to pick herbs on a whim was the dream I had when we were looking for our next place to live. While there was a long list of criteria that superseded this small point, it was ultimately this vision that kept popping up in my mind as an ideal.

Prior to that there was always some barrier. In the apartment there was a separation between our living quarters and the rooftop garden. I was never able to look out at it fondly from indoors and popping out for herbs wasn’t really difficult, but it wasn’t accessible in the way our garden is now. Furthermore, a good portion of my herbs were grown in-ground at the community garden plot, which meant planning ahead and cooking with fresh herbs that weren’t minutes or even seconds off of the plant as they are now. It’s one of those small differences that makes me feel happy and grateful to have found this house, regardless of its many (MANY) faults. We’ve affectionately named it “Home of the Half-Assed” for a reason.

But I digress (as always). The real reason for this post wasn’t to tell you about the garden or my small dream. It was to say that while I was outside collecting herbs, I remembered the Jerusalem artichokes that have been waiting in the ground to be harvested. These chunky tubers taste best after they’ve been touched by the cold weather, but I will admit that the real reason I had put off harvesting them was that I was afraid to face the sheer quantity of tubers that are lurking below the surface, and the work I will need to do to preserve some of them. I’m still dealing with the tomatoes, believe it or not!

So it was with some trepidation that I grabbed a small shovel and a basket and headed to the back of the garden to assess the situation. Sure enough, we have been inundated. Wow. The roots are massive in size and thickly intertwined. I dug up a small basket’s worth, and am predicting a real windfall once I get the big shovel out and really dig up the area. The weather is supposed to be mild this weekend — I’d like to get them harvested before the ground freezes.

We had our first taste of the tubers thinly sliced and roasted alongside several other root vegetables and herbs that very day. Ours included carrots, golden beets, shallots, slices of ‘Delicata’ squash, ‘Orange Balsam’ thyme, and rosemary, but you can include any combination of root vegetables, alliums, or woody herbs that you have on hand. Turn the oven up high (about 400F) and roast on a pan, tossed with a sprinkling of olive oil and Balsamic vinegar (herbal vinegars work well, too). We enjoyed ours with homemade ketchup.

This morning I took advantage of the mild weather to get some chores done in the garden. As I kneeled on the ground planting garlic I thought about my recent trip to Georgia. I arrived in Atlanta the day before the State was set to execute Troy Davis. I’d been following the case through online news outlets, but it wasn’t until the morning of my talk that I realized that the time was set to correspond with the moment I got up to speak at the botanical garden.

This threw me into a tailspin. Should I recognize the moment? In my personal life I would. Yes, people around the world die every minute of everyday, but State sanctioned murder is not the same. Here I was in the place where it was about to happen and at that very moment. Not saying anything felt like intentional avoidance or denial, yet at the same time I was a guest from another country — people had come out to hear me speak about growing food and I did not want to send them home feeling badly, or worse still, judged.

Over the last month or so there had been some online chatter about the role of garden writers. Several people said that garden writers should stick to plants and pretty things and that there is no place for politics. I have already stated my opinion on this topic and find it interesting that it was only a short time later that I was in a position in which it was tested. Where is the line between our personal and professional lives? For me it is very fuzzy and I would not have it any other way.

In the end I decided not to mention what was happening directly, but instead thanked the audience for coming out at a difficult time within their community. I went on to talk about the hopefulness that is inherent in growing a garden. We come to gardening for all sorts of reasons and each of us takes something different and unique to our condition as humans away from the act. But at its heart, growing a garden, especially a food garden, is hope put into action. We plant food with the expectation that there will be a harvest some months down the road. This morning I planted my wish for a spring with garlic shoots emerging from the soil and lots of plump bulbs at next summer’s end. Later today, as I plant flowering bulbs, I will be making a small investment towards bringing springtime colour and delight into my little part of the world.

Within these simple acts, we gardeners remind ourselves that we will have a future and that we can take some agency in making the future we want to have. That may seem insignificant, but I wonder if we aren’t taking it for granted that acknowledging and wishing for a future is a big deal. Some people aren’t capable of seeing a future ahead of them, either because of their own internal struggle or because of their geographic condition. Wishing for a future and taking some action to shape it is meaningful.

Yesterday, I lamented the end of the garden season and the coming winter. The changing seasons are a condition I can’t control. I don’t always like the season that lies ahead, but I do know and understand its importance. I find it interesting how the act of gardening has me thinking in a tangible and concrete way as far ahead as next summer. I can already picture it in my mind and I have the skills and knowledge to make that picture a reality. Few other activities force me to acknowledge and experience the here and now while also reminding me of my past and giving me the equipment and confidence I need to grow my future.

Steps to planting and growing garlic both in-ground and in containers can be found here.

Besides weeds and a stronghold of goldenrod, Jerusalem artichoke (Helianthus tuberosus) aka sunchoke was one of the few plants that we inherited when we moved into this place. At the time only dead stalks remained and I wasn’t quite sure what member of the Sunflower Family they were.

In the spring I pulled a few rogue stems up and the tell-tale tubers came out of the soil with them. My first thought was, “Yay, a surprise food!” and my second was, “Oh shit.”

For those that are unfamiliar, a bit of background. Jerusalem artichokes are a Sunflower Family plant that grow edible tubers that taste sort of like artichokes, hence their name. The tubers are often used as a “healthier” substitute for potatoes as they have a lower glycemic index. For this reason you will often see them for sale in health food stores, and if you are looking to grow the plant I would suggest going there first as a local tuber source rather than buying online. These plants are so easy to grow. If you have trouble growing potatoes, you will not have a problem with Jerusalem artichoke. They grow themselves.

And now for the bad news. This plant is persistent. You will never get rid of it once you’ve got it. EVER. NEVER EVER. No. Really.

I used to grow this plant in a large garbage can over at the roof garden, and despite toppling the container to extract the tubers, I was never able to get the tiniest pieces out of the soil. Every spring it would come back again full force. That was in a container. Just imagine what they can do in the ground.

And this is where I am today. It is late summer and my plants are well over 2 stories tall. I’d measure them but they are so tall, I am not sure how to go about that feat. They are definitely taller than the original stalks that were here when we moved in last year. They have surpassed them as well as the clothing line we installed. And then some. I can only blame care (watering, pruning, etc) as well as the duck manure I added to the soil in the spring for their dominance now.

Jerusalem artichokes taste best when they have been kissed by the cold. I will dig mine up come late fall, once a hard frost has hit but before the ground freezes. I will likely give much of it away as I predict an abundance that is too much for 2 people without suffering gastrointestinal distress (Sunchokes are often called “fartichoke” for a reason). And then in the spring I will pull up the excess that will inevitably attempt to spread far and wide.

I will not be so caring and generous next season. That’s a promise.

I had a much larger post in mind for today, but we have to take our aging cat in for an emergency vet visit in a few minutes so I’ll have to pull it back slightly. It’s scary, facing the fact that this little animal whose life is so intertwined with mine and whose care I’ve been in charge of for so many years doesn’t have much time left. The house cat’s life expectancy is only so long, and given the health problems she has had in the past, I worry everyday that there is not much time left. She’s a royal pain in the ass, but I love her so much, probably even for it.

But I digress. Hot peppers. Most people know by now that while I love to grow hot peppers, I do not eat them. As a garden writer whose focus is primarily on food, it is important that I taste everything I write about in order to provide a personal account, but the reality is that I’ve long since lost the ability to digest hot peppers well. The gastrointestinal tract does not approve.

But there is something about hot peppers that keeps me excited about growing them, and each year I spend hours searching for new varieties to try. Even though I don’t eat them, I am always thrilled when the first fruits appear and later ripen. Hot peppers are beautiful plants, and with thousands of varieties available world wide, there is a lot to get excited about.

This year was a hallmark one as I took the opportunity of a new garden space to go a little bit overboard. Since I wasn’t growing the majority of my plants in pots, I was able to allot a great many of them to hot peppers specifically. Most of the post were grown on my stoop, but there were a few out back, as well as a couple of extras that ended up in the ground simply because there was no where else to put them. The above photo represents most of the varieties I grew, although at the time I took the picture there were still a few that were not ripened and even now there are two that are dragging their feet.

They are clockwise starting from the far left: ‘Purple Cayenne’, ‘Orange Rocoto‘ (These hadn’t ripened yet), ‘Fish’, ‘Variegata’, ‘Filius Blue’, ‘Chinese Ornamental’, ‘Chocolate Habanero’, ‘Chitepin’, ‘Golden Nugget.’

I know. It’s only been two days and I’m already back. There’s just so much happening in the garden (and kitchen) right now and lots to share. My neck isn’t hurting too much today. The trick seems to be more exercise, time spent outdoors, and a lot less time on the computer.

The forecast was calling for thunderstorms, so I spent the morning in the garden harvesting produce, particularly ripe tomatoes. Some varieties are prone to cracking when ripe, especially after a strong rainfall so I wanted to be sure to get them off of the vines before the storm hit.

I have also been neglectful about pruning and staking these past weeks and there were a few plants that had grown into multi-branched monsters. With their fruit growing heavier by the day, it was essential to stake the tangled mess to avoid breakage in case of strong rain and winds. While I was at it, I pruned out excess foliage to ensure good air flow all around the plants. I want to keep my plants happy and producing ripe fruit right through to the first frost.

To make things more informative, I have uploaded the photo (above) of tomatoes to my Flickr stream and have added notes indicating which varieties are which. There are a few more in this batch than there was in the August 13 photo. There are still a number of varieties that haven’t even put out their first ripe fruit — many of which I have never grown nor tasted before. The fun never stops. Fortunately, I have got my taste for tomatoes back.

Some more of today’s harvest is depicted here. ‘Spanish Padron’ peppers (harvest them small. They get hotter as they grow), pole beans (‘Annelino Giallo’ (my first year growing this variety) and ‘Trionfo Violetto’), purslane (I let this weed grow and harvest the leaves for salads), Swiss chard and assorted herbs for my lunch. What is not shown is the giant amaranth I harvested to make West Indian callaloo soup, and an armload of mint that came off of plants that needed a good end-of-summer haircut.

I have a lot of canning and preserving work ahead of me these next days. A first batch of slow dried tomatoes have just come out of the oven (I regret using the ‘Green Grape’ variety. They are delicious fresh, but unpleasant when dried. Fortunately, ‘Maglia Rosa’ and ‘Haley’s Purple Comet’ are nice.), another batch has gone in for sauce, and I’ve just finished washing the excess amaranth leaves in preparation for freezing.

What about you? Are your tomatoes producing yet? Are you drowning in the summer’s bounty?

I’ve been on a sort-of break from work in an attempt to unwind from a year of madness, although so far most of my break has been spent painting, framing art, and doing the work of making this place feel like a home. Our move-in was thrust right in the middle of writing my third book, which at the time meant setting things up as best we could and then getting back to it quickly.

We are not minimalists. We’ve collected an assortment of strange things over the years, and I find comfort and inspiration when I am surrounded by those things. I am visually oriented — my eyes need to dance around a room. I hate plain walls.

Unfortunately, my neck and shoulder is acting up (again), which says to me that it is time to take this whole down time thing more seriously. No more trying to attempt to take a break. I need to take a real break. For REAL!

On that note, I leave you with a selection of garden pics. I’ll be back posting regularly when my neck/shoulder/arm permits it.

‘Rocoto’ hot pepper flower.

‘Plum Frost’ Coleus.

‘Molten Fire’ amaranth (Amaranthus caudatus) and Chiltepin hot pepper in a big container. I bought these tall, colourful pots on sale at Ikea for $4.99 each. Score!

What remains from a scrambled egg lunch: turkey eggs and zucchini flowers with the ends ripped off (the petals went into the meal). The squash flowers are coming in record numbers this year. I’ve been harvesting a dozen every single day since July!

Broom plumes and ‘Scarlet’ runnerbean flowers.

Blue Ensign’ morning glory (Convolvulus tricolor). This is a nice dwarf morning glory that is perfect for pots.

tomatoes. Tomatoes. TOMATOES. I know I shouldn’t say this as I am practically cursing myself to a tomato-less future by making such a terrible verbal transgression against the Church of the Divine Solanum (of which I am a card carrying member), but it needs to be said:

I think I’m already sick of tomatoes.

I know. You are cutting me with mental daggers through your computer screen and spitting on the ground in disgust as you read this.

I just came in from the garden where I harvested 5 1/2 pounds of tomatoes plus the miscellaneous edibles you can see here. I could have harvested so much more (Swiss chard, kales galore, basil, etc), but I try to avoid harvesting more than we can handle at a time. That and I still haven’t photographed the hot pepper plants — they will have to hold their ripened fruit a little while longer. We are having a wildly productive year, for which I am grateful. Thank you hot summer.

While we were out there — I was harvesting food and Davin was fixing the broken cord on a string of lights that a mischievous squirrel had chewed through — we tasted some of the first new varieties and compared them to old favourites. About four varieties in, it suddenly occurred to me that I wasn’t really tasting them anymore. My mouth was already sore from the acid.

What is going on? It’s only August 13! This is the month that I wait for all year long. To add insult to injury, we are probably having our best year ever… and I’m just not feeling it. I am a Judas. I’m letting down the team. Excuse me while I step away from the computer to wash my filthy mouth out with carbolic soap and flagellate myself with a stinging nettle brush.

Needless to say, I’ve got about 15 pounds of tomatoes to can and I’m sure I’ll appreciate these squirreled-away beauties come December. We still have another month or so of fresh tomato bounty ahead (plus lots more canning), and plenty more opportunities to enjoy all of my favourite summer treats. Perhaps I’ll get my taste for it back before the season is out. I hope (gulp).

Is there anything that you’re sick of this summer?

First there is the name, which gives me a chuckle every time I say it as it sounds like the site of an epic Trolls versus Elves battle in The Lord of the Rings.

“And there was great despair in the land, for the blood of many fearless warriors was spilled in the great battle at Hahms Gelbe…”

It feels like “vanquished” should be used in there somewhere. Or perhaps Hahms Gelbe is a badlands where people are sent to exile. “He was doomed to live out his final days as a lost soul wandering wearily through the blackened and barren desert of Hahms Gelbe.”

Needless to say, I’d better not quit my day job as a garden writer. Doesn’t look like I’ll be making my millions ghost writing fantasy fiction for World of Warcraft fans.

Anyways…..

Hahms Gelbe Topftomate – Heirloom. Early determinate/tall dwarf with rugose leaves (means wrinkled and puckered). 60-65 days. Golden, round cherry.

Despite my little medieval diversion, the name ‘Hahms Gelbe Topftomate’ actually translates from German to something along the lines of “Hahms yellow pot tomato”, and you can immediately see why. This mid-sized dwarf cherry really goes for the gold in a container. I’m growing two plants this year: both on my front stoop where they get a lot of light and heat that radiates up from the concrete. They’ve been yielding ripe fruit for some weeks now, so what you see here represents only some of the bounty that they’ve produced so far this season. As for the taste; they’re delicious, very sweet with a bit of acid, and surprisingly juicy if you allow them to fully ripen on the plant. The skins are thick, making this a variety that keeps well. Just today I ate a few with lunch that had been sitting around for at least a week or possibly even two. At this time of year I start to lose track. They are definitely one of the better dwarf tomatoes that I’ve grown and tasted and while I have grown this variety before, there is something about their performance this year that has inspired me to keep them on my roster of varieties worth having around.

Growing:

I’m growing these 8″ (ish) plants in sap buckets with several holes in the bottom, that are just over 1 ft deep. They’ll do fine in an even smaller pot. I have grown dwarf plants of this size in pots that are as small as 8″ deep.

I know. Cheese-y. I couldn’t help myself, although I think it aptly reflects the gleeful delight I feel each morning when I go out to collect the day’s garden offerings.

The top two squashes are Benning’s Green Tint Patty Pan from the Hudson Valley Seed Library. This is my first time growing it. The middle zucchini is ‘Nice de Rond’, a French heirloom that I have grown on and off for years. The pea pod is ‘Dwarf Grey Sugar’, a short-ish variety with pretty flowers. I tried that one in one of the raised beds this year, after years growing it in pots. To be honest I didn’t notice a difference. The sign of a truly good container plant.

The Hudson Valley Seed Library website describes ‘Benning’s Green Tint’ as a “compact bush”, but that hasn’t been my experience. Mine is absolutely mammoth — possibly the largest bushing zucchini I have ever grown both in size and productivity! I did not provide well for its aggressive expansion and it is beginning to take over the space that was meant to be shared with two other zucchini plants. It has also spilled well over into the walking path. The plant keeps growing and has taken on what is close to a trailing habit!

Meanwhile, the ‘Nice de Rond’ remains as compact in the ground as it has been in pots. I love this one in small spaces and the round, cue ball fruits are tender and unique.

Oh dear. I really have been remiss in providing updates and photos of the garden in its first year. The last photo I posted was on June 29. We were headed to Denver and I wanted a record of it before I left. Until that time June was still a bit wet and sometimes cold. A heatwave struck while we were gone and the garden really took off from there.

To tell you the truth, I’ve been neglectful about taking photos of it in general. However, I have spent a lot of time in it and have put a ton of work into it. I am pleased. I’ve finally found a place where I am as happy about where it is right now as I can be. There are little things for sure: the perennials that are smaller than I’d like them to be; the lavender that didn’t transplant well from a life indoors; the small patch of grass that I was too tired to dig up; my failed attempts at covering the low fences in vines of my choosing (Fine, morning glories, you can have it!); a desire for large rocks that I can use to create more structure. There are others, but I’m okay about that right now. It is a work in progress. When I look back at what the garden looked like when we moved in versus what we’ve managed to accomplish considering the mania of our schedules this year… it feels good enough. And when I’m alone in it with no one else’s taste or approval to meet, it is more than enough. I love it.

Here are a few pictures. I promise to post more in the future. There are lots of little corners and areas of interest that I want to tell you about, but they each deserve their own post. This is just a taste to get things going.

We brought the sitting bench (at the back) from the old place when we moved. I thought it would be nice to have a spot to sit in the back of the garden, although the pathway that leads to it is now covered over with exploding greenery. I found the red bench in the garbage recently. Those are zucchini flowers and coriander seeds sitting on it that I had harvested that morning.

One of three varieties of bushing zucchinis that I planted this year. This one is a patty pan. It has produced lots of male flowers and is only now beginning to out out the first fruit.

Red cabbage, nasturtium, and colourful amaranth underplanted beneath some tall, indeterminate tomatoes.

This image shows two large raised beds on the west side. The first is home to eight indeterminate (vining) tomatoes that are underplanted with assorted basils. The second holds 4 indeterminate tomatoes and 4 determinates (bushing).

The ‘Lacinato’ kale is growing in an old wooden crate. The pot behind that is my iron cross oxalis. It’s still going strong and producing flowers exactly a month later. That red thing is the largest amaranth I have ever grown.

A close-up of one of the teepee structures that I am partial to. It consists of 4 stakes set in a diamond shape, one indeterminate per stake. As the plants grow, I tie up the main stalk and cut out excess foliage to promote good circulation.

This is one of the raised beds that is closer to the house. The entire west side is comprised of raised beds that we built using scrap pieces of wood that was either found on site or given to us. It cost us exactly ZERO DOLLARS and was absolutely necessary since the entire west side sloped downwards. The plant in the foreground is cilantro/coriander that has gone to seed (I collect and eat the seeds). The plant behind that is Tzimbolo, a crazy pseduo-edible solanum that I grew from seed. It should not be there, but I didn’t have anywhere else to put it. This is my second year growing this plant. More on that in a future post.

Creating more structure is next on the agenda. The main bed on the east side is just one long bed. I had to do that as a time saver, but it is the number one issue that I have with the garden right now. The plants were all put in haphazardly. The goal at the time was just get stuff in the ground and fast! It’s a bit of a jungle and difficult to get into to weed and water. The cat loves it though. She has a special spot where she goes to cuddle up with the soaker hose (when it’s not on, of course!).

About halfway up the long bed is a galvanized washbasin that I bought at a flea market this spring. As soon as I brought it home, I stuck it there because I didn’t know what to do with it. It stayed, and I have since planted it up as a pond that holds big-leaved tropicals (Giant papyrus and alocasias/colocasias). The grassy thing on the right side is sorghum (black or red. I’m not sure yet). The purple spike below that is anise-hyssop (Agastache foeniculum). I’m a fan of this plant and made sure to bring some over from the roof garden where I had been growing it for years and years. Behind the sorghum you can see a garlic flower that I let go (don’t do this if you want nice, big bulbs). The bees love it! There is one on there in this pic.

In the fall, once the tender annuals start to die back, I intend to break that long space up and put in a path. I’ll move some of the plants if I get the chance. We have managed to create one bed within that long patch, a dry bed full of silvery plants and hardy cactus and succulents. I will post about that separately as it needs its own entry.

UPDATE: I posted a larger version of the first image to my Flickr account so that you can see the details more clearly. I’ve also added more notes.