It's the middle of winter - though the unseasonably warm weather's a bit confusing - and I'm missing good, fresh vegetables. The availability of local produce is about as close to zero as possible, and we've been steadily raiding the basement's museum to summer produce. Last night, while our neighbors were over for drinks, we showed them the little glass jars, all lined up, and sent them home with a few.1
Then the four of us ate a jar of spicy pickles. Because, really, they're just too addictive.
It's a scant little museum down there, with just a few batches of produce put up. We'll be ramping up production next year, once we have a yard - and space for a monstrous garden - and a basement capable of keeping a large freezer just for storage. Will I be getting in over my head? Judging by the size of the planting schedule spreadsheets: oh, my, yes.2
That assumes that everything goes just gangbusters in the garden. Which, of course, it won't. There'll be bumper crops of some things, and very little of some others. And, presumably, a lot of lessons learned. Such as: what on earth are the neighbors going to think?3 Also: how much should I expect to lose to the local deer population?
And: what am I going to do when everything goes right, and we end up with a lifetime's supply of crookneck pumpkins? (For example.)
Pumpkin pies, presumably. Like this one:
A homemade pumpkin pie is, indeed, a wonderful thing. I use cream instead of evaporated milk, and err on the side of more eggs for a more custardy quality. And, since any good pumpkin pie's so loaded with spices as to make the pumpkin flavor near-irrelevant, I like a crust made from pulverized gingersnaps. Or, in this case, gingersnaps tempered with the last of the Cabibbos' cinnamon almond biscotti.
Rich, warmly spice, and not too sweet. It's even better with a cup of coffee the next morning.
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1They'd already been kind enough to deliver a batch of homemade cinnamon rolls around the holidays.
2Additional upside: there'll be less to mow. I hate mowing the lawn, so I'll happily trade it in for garden work, even if it takes more time.
3Hopefully they can be buttered up with overflow goodies from the garden. Really, who can say no to a free basket of fresh, ripe, organic vegetables?
3 comments:
Be careful what you share. Everone likes to get tomatoes, but the "joy" upon receiving the surplus of your neighbor's bumper crop of zucchini might be a little more tempered.
One year, my grandparents had so much zucchini that they wouldn't let you come and swim in their pool unless you took one home. I like zucchini NOW, but when I was a kid I hated it.
I also know the childhood joys of excessive zucchini - I recall too, too much coming from my parents' garden at a time when I couldn't stand the stuff. As far as I'm concerned, what doesn't get eaten immediately - and while small - is pretty much fit for compost only. Even someone who adores zucchini bread can't possibly use much up that way.
Another one to beware, when it comes time for bumper crops, is eggplant. Though some may be excited for a lifetime supply of baba ghanoush, the average response tends to be lukewarm at best.
hm, none of our eggplant blossoms produced fruit this year, so we will have to wait until next year to discover what a lifetime supply of baba looks like. yum!
seriously, though, i kind of feel bad for the veggies like zucchini and eggplant that have shortish growing seasons but do not freeze or can well. (i have a recipe for pickled zucchini that might be ok, but canned? ew!) it's like they want us to eat just as much of their food as we do of the food made by plants with longer growing seasons (and longer shelf life!) like potatos. so they make all this luscious food for us, hoping to win the "people's favorite vegtable competition," but instead, they turn into jokes and the butt of such children's pranks as the Zucchini Liberation Army.
I totally agree about the uselessness of giant Zucchini. My grandma never picked hers until it was as thick as an arm. Or a lower leg. Ok, sure, she got a lot of extra bites of food for the price of the same bag of seeds, but nobody really WANTED to eat the giant zucchini, the seeds were so slimy and large.
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