Sunday, October 5, 2008

In the Garden of Eatin', Honey

Though the herbs were the longest lasting and most practical selections in the garden, there were quite a few other treats.

Tomatoes:
When you buy tomatoes at the grocery store, they are usually either pink and hard, or mealy and nasty. In either case, they typically lack much in the way of flavor. I'm certain that I've mentioned before the reasons for this, involving highways, cheap fuel, and hyper-growth varieties. Heirloom tomatoes are essentially the exact opposite of these grocery store ones. There are countless varieties that come in every color of the rainbow (except blue; there is no blue food), with many different flavor profiles. Additionally, different varieties produce fruit at different times of the year, so using several varieties will allow you to have a constant supply. For my garden, I purchased four varieties of tomato saplings from the local farmer's market.

The Orange Blossom variety produced earliest in the season. Its fruit was also the sweetest of the bunch. Slightly smaller than racquetballs, they were perfect for making salsa. As you know, I'm not that crazy about recipes, as each person has their own tastes. Salsa is a perfect medium for expressing your culinary ideas while still maintaining the flavors of the produce. I finely diced the tomatoes and combined with mixed shallots, chopped cilantro, a hint of garlic, and salt. That's all it needs to be the best dip your tortilla chips could dream of. Make sure you have enough, though; it goes fast. Regrettably, I had but one orange blossom plant.




In terms of numbers, the Green Zebra tomatoes were the most prolific, producing dozens of fruits on each of two plants. Their flavor is lighter and more citrusy than other varieties. They're great on salads, especially as the centerpiece of an Insalata Caprese. Even better is to use them to make Gazpacho Verde. Tasty. Here are the tomatoes, unripe and attached to the vine on the left. To the right, the yellowing of the stripes indicates ripeness.



The other two varieties were Purple Cherokee and Brandywine. The PCs are similar in flavor to standard tomatoes, albeit much fuller and fruitier. They're great in sandwiches, add nicely to salads, and provide a great visual and textural counterpart in ceviches. Brandywine tomatoes are redder than anything you've ever seen, incredibly richly flavored, and aromatic like flowers. A couple of them grew to about the size of a softball for added visual effect. Few varieties of tomato existing outside the backyards of Southern Italy are better for making sauces or for canning than these. The internal structure is also a tighter, more complex lattice meaning more meat, less juice, and a striking presentation.


The problem with berries is that there are never enough. I would gladly sit down and eat a pint of blueberries for lunch every day. Blueberry plants are more of an investment than others. You buy some scrawny, bare twigs and, given a few years, it turns into a fifteen foot bush producing enough fruit for you and your neighbors. The raspberries and blackberries are similar, though not expanding as much with age. They all taste as good as anything you'd find in a farmer's market and require very little maintenance.



Strawberries are fantastic. There really isn't much to say about them. The plants are perennial and spread like crazy. They also stay low to the ground so they can be mixed in with other, taller plants like basil (together in ice cream = perfection), tomatoes, and berry bushes. Harvesting them can be a bit like Where's Waldo. And beware of ants. Some types of strawberries produce only during a certain time of year, and are classified as such, such as "Junebearing". These typically have better tasting fruit, a tradeoff for the brief growing season. Others will produce as long as the temperature is warm enough and are referred to as "everbearing". Using a planter, you can even grow them inside during the winter. Delicious local strawberries in Chicago in winter? Yes we can.

Saturday, October 4, 2008

In the Garden of Eatin', Baby (Apologies for the trite pun)

Anybody who says that local, organic, or sustainable produce is too expensive needs to be smacked. Okay, I don't typically condone violence of this sort, so maybe they just need to do be learned about the truths. For the low price of a few seeds or saplings, you can grow your own foodstuffs with minimal effort. In early spring 2008, I started clearing out patches of the back yard of weeds, vines, roots, and other purposeless florae. With several patches cleared, I needed to decide what to plant.

This is an important decision to make. Many gardening books suggest certain lettuces or summer squashes because they are easy to grow, but surely the most important guidance, regardless of difficulty, has to be to plant what you love. One of the greatest pains of grocery store shopping is the purchase of herbs. Why must I buy a bushel of parsley if I only need a sprinkle? Worse yet, why when buying other herbs is the cost so exorbitant for such a small quantity? I am a well-known Mojito fiend. I can't get enough of them. Of course, the distinctive flavoring of that delightful Cuban cocktail is mint. Funny, though, how you usually can't really taste the mint in a Julep or Mojito. Why is this? When most restaurants and grocery stores buy mint, it comes from gigantic farms whose sole purpose is to produce vast QUANTITIES of a product as quickly as possible. Agribusinesses use selective breeding and genetic manipulation to achieve these ends, usually at the expense of flavor and aroma. Note, this is the same reason that a rose today indeed does not smell as sweet. So with dilute or flavorless mint, one cannot make a fine beverage (or jerked chicken). The best way to guarantee good flavor, short of complicated soil testing, analysis, and rebalancing, is to start with good genes. Internet stores provide heirloom (unadulterated) seeds and local garden shops typically carry specialty varieties. Additionally, many farmer's market vendors will sell their surplus plants to the public. I planted several types of mint from several sources and it sure did grow like a weed. Plus, when it flowers, it produces beautiful conical shoots. Having a constant and huge supply of herbs makes spur-of-the-moment cooking and cocktailing a pleasure. All together, I grew marjoram, oregano, sorrel, chives, sage, basil, and seven varieties of mint. Despite my poor soil, they grew well, producing interesting and delightful flavors. Enjoy some photos.


Common Mint


Lemon Thyme (perfect for chicken, sauces, and cocktails)


Top Left: Greek Oregano, a peppery treat
Center: Marjoram, unique, fruity, citrusy, and... herbal


Sorrel, a sour lettuce-like leaf


Basil. A must for anything pretending to be Italiano

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