Garden Hos Farm

Alright. I confess that I'm only updating this right now because Terry has kindly taken the kids with him to get the car washed and headlight changed. My mother-in-law is taking a much needed nap right now (she's often found wide awake until the wee hours watching QVC when she stays with us). And I am alone. And awake. It sucks how I always have the urge to write at the most inopportune times. I feel like I may be mad at myself if I don't take this opportunity to share nothing. But, it's a very happy peaceful nothing.

The garden is going well for the most part, feeding my family and the co-proprietor of Garden Hos Farm's family. Lots of squash, lots of zucchini, lots and lots and lots of cucumbers (mostly from this wonderful white heirloom variety called White Wonder), a few ears of corn here and there, a few green peppers (why won't they turn red and yellow already!?), and some green tomatoes that are mocking me with their big bulging juiciness (but lack of color).


The pole beans are finally making their appearance, but they're still only teeny tiny.

(These are dill flowers, which we're about to harvest and dry, in order to pickle our pickling cukes! Aren't the chartreuse blossoms and gray-green stems a beautiful color combo?)

Potatoes? Who knows? If anything actually gets pulled out of those dirt humps (my hump, my hump, my lovely potato hump), I'll be one pleased potato-eater. They're the most low-maintenance of all the veggies.

We got one beautiful cabbage head that my mom used for a yummy coleslaw for our Father's Day dinner, while all 10 other heads were (still are, actually) covered in slugs and cabbage worms on their undersides (their side, their side, their lovely undersides). Pretty gross.

Likewise, we have something of the buggy nature eating our pepper plants and sunflowers, while powdery mildew has (only as of last night) covered most of the squash leaves and a few cucumber leaves. Urgh.

(Terry's feet at 11 o'clock, through the beans and cukes.)

(our neighbor's pool house (which is bigger than our house-house) behind the sunflowers.)

Our onions and garlic were harvested a couple of weeks ago, and to our surprise, they were all the smallest heads you've ever seen. (But they taste good, so...) The carrots spent all their energy making some impressive carrot tops while neglecting the edible end, and the hopeful Little Beets That Could were too bitter to eat once pulled.

Lastly, something with big front teeth (probably a bunny) has eaten (and I mean eaten) a few squashes and zucchinis (also only as of last night). I'm pretty sure I've been bad about closing the garden gate every night after tucking them in, so I hope that Peter and his friends stay the hell out tonight. Otherwise it's bunny soup for dinner, Dad.*

To make myself feel better about the aforementioned garden diseases, I'd like to tell you all about my delightful day in the kitchen, thanks to our remaining survivors:

(Left to right: green zinnias, cosmos from Sarah's yard, Matt's Wild Cherry and a lone Reisenstraub tomato, White Wonder cucumber poking out of Ginger's eggs, and a Crostada zucchini- Sarah, I do plan on giving back your beautiful blue bowl/mug, but it just makes for such a pretty still-life!)

1. First, I made this zucchini, yellow squash, onion, and garlic sauce that I topped over penne. I sprinkled parmesan cheese on top, stuck it under the broiler for 5-10 minutes, and it created a crusty top. (This is a take on another great recipe that Sarah gave me that I will share another time.)

2. Then I made plum, sage, and mint iced tea. This "recipe" came from the latest Real Simple mag. The mint and sage came from the garden, and the plums were supposed to be used in a pie that I never got around to making. I used a combination of organic black teas and green teas. Add honey while it's hot, and then chill it for at least 2 hours. Strain, if that's the way you like it.

3. After that, I made a gazpacho/black bean dip that is sort of an amalgamation of flavors and recipes. Black beans (canned, folks. Homey can't get her act together enough to remember to soak things these days), a White Wonder cucumber, assortment of various-stages-of-ripeness-thank-you-for-your-harvesting-eagerness-children cherry tomatoes, Black Mexican heirloom corn (the sexiest sounding corn, no?), a diced teeny sweet green pepper, diced red onion, lime juice, honey, salt, cracked pepper, olive oil, and lots of cilantro (which scent-stains my hands for over a day after I pick it. I love it).


4. And then brownies. But I'm taking them to a neighbor. Boo.

And, don't forget about the prolific layer, Ginger! If it weren't for these beautiful and delicious eggs she lays daily for us, that bitch would be dinner tonight, Dad.* She's pecked the heels of Fiona, Neve, and Mike one too many times. And me and Sarah too, for that matter. (Although. I have a sadistic side that finds it very funny to see children running and screaming in fear from a chicken with big hips.)

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* When I began this gardening endeavor last Fall, I sought my dad's advice on the matter of animal/insect control for the organic gardener.

His advice: "We all share this planet, Dera. The organic gardener over plants in order to yeild enough for your family and the garden guests." I was not pleased with this hippie answer.

A week ago, me and the girls were sitting in my grandparents' house when we saw a mama and baby deer playing in their backyard. It was incredible to watch them fearlessly interact so close to where we sitting. I rushed back to my parents' house (they live across the street from my grandparents) to tell them about this beautiful experience.

My Dad's response: "That deer and her *@#$ baby are eating my green beans! I should shoot those *@#$!s"

My Dad is Yosemite Sam.