abundance: a report from the trenches

The barbecue’s been ignored for the last year of so since the Significant Eater became vegan. However the other day I got the urge.

But there was a bit of an access problem.

Parts of the garden have been abundant this year.

It has been a stellar year for grapes and tomatoes.

The eggplants weren’t so happy and got a nasty case of sunburn, while the strawberries totally gave up the ghost in the heat.

Some herbs thrived. The chives, chilli and Vietnamese mint got hidden under the sprawling tentacles of Tommy Toes. Providing perfect shelter on blistering days. Should I admit now, I barely watered my garden this summer?

Once more the let ‘em spread approach to tomato growing has come up trumps. While still young I stake the plants and that’s it. I let them free range. By not pinching out alternate laterals the greenery provides inbuilt sunshade. Early in summer I threw an old sheet over them on the worst of the hot days. Towards the end of the season I’ve given up.

It’s now late March and I’ve been harvesting tomatoes for a couple of months.

And those grapes, oh the grapes are dandy!

fire and ice aka summer gardening in Melbourne

By the way, blogger tells me this is my 600th post. Who'd have thunk it?

The subversive plot has suffered neglect, golf-ball sized hail and days of scorching heat in the 40c’s over the last few weeks. On my return after Christmas, I was surprised to find I had anything left at all after the hailstorm.

My lazy gardening strategy of letting the tomatoes range with minimal intervention, that served me so well in the 2009 heatwave, continues to pay off. While a small amount of fruit was damaged (especially of the larger sized tomatoes), the majority has survived.

While the tomatoes are staked and pruned haphazardly at best, the strawberries require a little intervention. After watching the first two berries ripen, only to be nabbed by the birds before I could pick them, a couple of dollars of netting was a suitable investment. The old, concertina-style wine rack was also repurposed.

I possibly lost some of the eggplants, as there was a glut of flowers that set over a month ago. But I spied one, hidden at the back growing contentedly. The hail/heat cycle appears to have triggered a second round of flowers.

January 9sqM garden round up

Tomatoes – Burnley Surecrop and two Tommy Toes producing a steady stream of fruit. The perfect amount for a two-person household so far but weather catastrophes willing, there should be a glut in a month or to be roasted, pureed and frozen. I thought I'd lost the two other seedlings planted late, but they're just crowded out by the older siblings.

Strawberries – so many plants but on average only 2 or 3 ripe ones to nibble on each day.

Carrots – thought I’d harvested them all a month ago but found 4 or 5 decent ones this weekend. Still sweet, not woody.

Parsnip – like the carrots I’d thought I’d had the last of them but just spied a lurker this morning.

Silverbeet/chard – most now gone to seed and removed (lots of seed saving first) but a couple of plants soldiering on with new leaves.

Sorrel – looking a bit worse for wear after the hailstorm. Hanging in there, just.

Chives – robust small tuft planted in garden continuing to produce.

Parsley – garden patch gone to seed, after cutting back some edible leaves still usable.

Chilli – having removed my prolific plant when the garden was regenerated earlier in the year, the replacement is flowering but not fruiting as yet.

Tarragon – in a pot competing with weeds, the herb you use least always seems to last the longest.

Mint – has survived in a pot for another year. Thanks to the higher than usual rainfall it’s still lush and green.

Rosemary – stunted bush in a pot, waiting to be strewn on roasted potatoes.

a subversive plot

Today I discovered a new geeky pin-up boy and worked on a subversive plot.

Thanks to Mark Bittman's thanksgiving piece in the NY Times, I give you my latest food/gardening/political heart throb, Roger Dorian and his inspiring TED Talk.

But now it's time to go back to my subversive 9 square metre plot.

Seasonal garden update

Spring finds me still hanging onto the last of my winter cavolo nero and rainbow chard. Both attempting to bolt and go to seed.

It's still a thrill to come home from work and pick a carrot to munch on while I cook dinner.

The parsnips have been a good experiment. But the true revelation was eating them raw, young and tender. Who ever new a parsnip could taste so good?

The coriander disappointingly yielded no seeds this year. I'd raised them from seeds saved from last years abundance, planted in the same spot but alas the bolt began but fizzled, seedless. Anyone know why?

The parsley is bushy but not for long.

But the sorrel continues to be a star - fresh as a citrusy salad green or tossed through an omelette, I'm thoroughly addicted to the stuff.

New season kids on the block

So shoot me for harking back to the same old, but it aint summer without the trusty Tommy Toe tomatoes.

I've added an heirloom "Burnley Surecrop" to see how it goes.

There's eggplant in the spot closest to the barbecue. I regretted forgetting to plant some last year. Looking forward to that one quick move from garden, chopping board to grill this summer.

Lastly, there's a lot of strawberries - some fruiting already but between the cat covering them up in a frenzied feline OCD manner and the birds (must get some netting) I've only managed to salvage one so far.

I need to say farewell to the winter greens and plant some summer leafies. Such a small inner city plot will never fully feed me but it does cut my weekly organic veggie shop down by half.

And there's the buzz of being part of a global, subversive plot!

Oh and I still haven't covered the blue board, stopped the back shed from falling down and otherwise beautified my backyard. I prefer focusing on the beauty of green, growing things instead.

spring

Keeping a low profile.

The cool season veggies are bolting. Leafy greens eaten, seeds collected, plants composted.



To make way for the bevy of nightshades - tomatoes, eggplant and chilli.

Today the sun finally came out. Not flirtatiously this time but with a real sense of promise.



Am hoping the fruits of the season spin their magic, banishing the melancholy that has settled into my bones.

mushroom identification

When the mist cleared this morning, there were no gorillas.

Only 'shrooms.



With the garden bed rebuilt with a tonne of mushroom compost the odd fungi popping up is inevitable.



Can anyone tell me what they are and whether they are safe to eat?

report from the trenches

With a spate of chilly, grey and wet weather I’ve given up and succumbed to hibernation. The garden is barely noticed, dull light deters photography and my cooking has been almost as inspiring as the weather.

But eat? Yes thanks, starch, starch and more starch. Hijacked by a primitive brain that anticipates a winter famine.

Potatoes: roasted, fried or jacket. Forkfuls of fluffy, warm goodness.
Rice noodles: with stir fried vegetables and crispy strips of tempeh, almost candied with kecap manis.
Delicious vegan burgers and hand cut chips.

Oh yes!

Between showers, it's too cold and wet to garden with any real gusto. The cos lettuce is growing very nicely, the odd bug dropping by for a snack but there are plenty of leaves left for me to consume. The cavolo nero has been visited by the sneaky little cabbage butterflies and is requiring some manual grub squashing. Fortunately they’re not interested in the rainbow chard and it’s slowly doing its thing but waiting for a little more warmth before it will take off. Strawberries are surviving, even with the odd flower and fruit, though this cold snap will surely put the end to that unseasonal folly.

The seed project has had mixed success. The spring onions are hanging in there but the coriander has grown so slowly that I’ve bought some seedlings in frustration. Parsley has been the only no show, so that’s also been purchased.

Newly added are a row each of heirloom carrots and parsnips, as well as garlic (that’s already sprouting), sorrel and garlic chives.

How’s your patch looking?




Rather dull photos, it’s soooooo grey here in Melbourne at the moment.

works in progress 3: planting

In the house of pesky illness, the kitchen has been rather underutilized of late. Oh local takeaways let me count the ways - tom yum, curry laksa, bean curd and vegetables....

Fortunately raising seedlings only requires a warm spot and a bit of water every couple of days. The perfect hobby for a convalescent.



In a sunny spot in the shed the second lot of spring onion seedlings are coming along and the coriander is sprouting. Haven't given up on the parsley yet, I've been told it takes a while to burst into life.

Once the seedlings have got a little growth pop directly into the earth, cardboard and all.



Have bought some cos lettuce, black cabbage and rainbow chard seedlings ready to be planted. Just need a wee lie down first.

works in progress 2: garden ready to go

Last weekend, just before the wet stuff fell in bucket loads from the sky, we rebuilt the itty-bitty inner city garden bed.



It took half a truck of mixed mushroom and organic compost, two people and a couple of shovels, to load 50-odd wheel barrows full of the lovely compost to rebuild the depleted bed.



An hour or two later, nicely topped with 4 bales of lucerne, we could sit back and admire the work.


(yes I really will cover the blue board one day, I prefer to garden/cook/eat than undertake DIY projects)

Some of the strawberries went straight back in but stage two of planting will hopefully get done over easter. I have a well established cardamom that will sit in that hard to reach middle spot, atop a sadly growing cat cemetery.

Meanwhile the seed raising experiment is having some success a mere week after starting. The spring onions have sprouted and almost ready to go into the ground. Then I'll start another batch, to stagger the crop. Still waiting for the parsley and coriander to show signs of life but I have faith they'll do their job.

Has anyone grown turmeric? Some uneaten tubers have sprouted in the bowl in the kitchen. Do they grow as big as ginger? Not sure the little patch can take it but I might give it a go.

Next silverbeet (‘cos it’s nutritious, delicious and foolproof to grow), lettuces and the odd brassica.


Speaking of gardens. Take 12 minutes and watch this delightful video about gardening and life.



This woman is amazing. Not sure when the piece was made but considering she was born in the 1880's I'm pretty sure it was shot on film. I loved the calming muted colours and clarity of birdsong throughout.


Parts of this originally posted elsewhere.

works in progress

How can you not love autumn? After a sodden summer, we're being treated to balmy days with sun aplenty. Even after nightfall the warmth has pervaded, into golden evenings.

Yesterday we ordered a couple of cubic metres of compost to build up the garden bed, as it's dropped a good 30 cm since we first built in. In preparation for the arrival it meant an afternoon of pulling out the disappointing tomato crop and transplanting any surviving herbs and strawberry plants. Awful timing all round. The strawberries had just begun shooting off runners and the lovely hot chili plant was in full production. Who knows if they'll survive the disruption.

A quick pruning landed a bowl of (mostly) green chilies, to either be preserved in vinegar or whipped into a green harissa paste.



I also started raising some seedlings. Will see if this summer's seed saving experiment worked. With luck these toilet rolls will sprout spring onions, parsley and coriander...if I remember to water them.



How does your garden grow?

fresh, green and vomit-free!

I came late to the party as far as coriander (cilantro) is concerned.

To be honest I thought the herb smelt like vomit, so why would I want to taste it? The journey from outright disgust to tolerance of this plant has been a long one. It’s only in recent years that I’ve begun to embrace it. So to celebrate this newfound love, inspired by Christina’s wonderful post mid year, I’ve grown coriander for the first time.

Beyond the joy of being able to harvest a bunch of coriander fresh from the garden while knocking up some Asian delight, I’ve patiently waited for the plant to go to seed. In the past when annuals have bolted, I’ve felt a little melancholy. This time my excitement was palpable.

You see it’s the seed bearing umbels that really turn me on. So much of what I cook now begins with toasting and grinding coriander and cumin seeds. How perfect to harvest my own seeds to use after the plant has died? Then my mind sprung to the next logical conclusion, if dried seeds bring me so much olfactory joy, what about FRESH coriander seeds? How cool would they be to cook with?

For the past week I’ve battled torrential rain, the odd swarm of mosquitoes and fretted about locusts, just to harvest my new best friend. The first batch went mouldy, stupid really as I know all about drying herbs. Fortunately there’s been more bounty on the leggy, near dead, plant. My first foray into using my new love was to simply crush a head or two of seeds with the back of a large knife and adding them to a mid-week kedgeree. The seeds lifted the flavour, adding a fresh pungency to the spices.

Have you every cooked with fresh coriander seeds or have an inkling on how you’d use them?

the return of the mojo

The last few months have been a bit of a blur. There’s been lot of comings and goings, short trips to NZ/interstate (the former being like an interstate trip except you have to check in hours earlier and there’s duty-free goodies) and some shuffling around at home.

The Significant Eater is away for large chunks of the time now and though I’ve always been an advocate of the pleasures of cooking for one, my repertoire has been stuck on repeat. My high rotation menu of stir-fries, frittatas, curries, pasta/noodles and variations on vegetables with rice, reminds me of a week I spent in the Daintree with only the resort restaurant to eat at. The limited menu was on a three day cycle, making the second half of the stay very boring.

My mojo’s not been helped by the garden being between seasons. The parsley and coriander are on the way out and there’s just silverbeet for fresh greens, wholesome but not exactly inspiring. I can’t face another leaf of the super bitter radicchio. Waiting to fruit are tomatoes (grosse lisse, tommy toes and sugar lump), strawberries and grapes.

If the locusts don’t get them first.

Previously I’ve relished solo time, giving me the opportunity to beta test weird and wild concoctions (aka “imagination meals”) without having to explain the experiment to someone else. But the problem with loosing your mojo is that there is no desire to go beyond the known. End of the year fatigue has kidnapped my imagination and a whole raft of glossy cookbooks won’t get it back.

Fortunately in the past week the season seems to have begun to shift. The market haul yielded local strawberries, organic mangoes and a half decent avocado. Winters drabness is finally giving way to the stars of the fruit family that excite the senses.



Also on the up are my herbs in pots – Vietnamese mint, regular mint, rosemary tarragon. The latter I’ve had for a couple of years but am always at a loss as to how to use. Aniseed is not my favourite flavour, especially in savoury cooking. It’s refreshing to chew on a leaf but I’m yet to fall in love with the herb. Any tarragon tips?

With the whiff of promise breezing in I’ve finally been inspired to tackle two cooking projects I’ve had earmarked for an age. This weekend saw a second batch of savoury fritters, in an ongoing attempt to tweak Annabel Langbein's soda water batter and while listening to Tony Chiodo being interviewed on Eat It on Sunday I put on a pot of quinoa. I’d intended to make one of his salads but instead found some parsley still suitable for consumption and finally made a quinoa tabbouleh.

Double win!

Where’s your kitchen mojo at this spring/autumn?

Sneak preview - recipes later this week.

flowers and seeds

The rain! The heat! The insects!

Two weeks ago the garden looked a little out of control, yet I couldn't bring myself to rip out last seasons vegetables just yet. A fortnight on, the tiny veggie box is a monumental mess.

It's too wet to do much about it though.

The budding botanist in me is just a little in love with nature's cycle of bloom and decay.


The wonderful umbels. Can you see why I am deeply rooted in the old botanical order and have difficulty calling the Umbeliferae family Apiaceae?


Attempting to collect some seeds this year.



The belle of the ball. It was worth sacrificing a few spring onions, just to admire this magnificent Allium flower. Hopefully there'll be seeds to gather before the plague of locusts descend.

How does your Antipodean garden grow this spring?

hiatus

I had a dream last night that I hadn't cooked for so long that I didn't realise the kitchen had been renovated in my absence.

In my waking life I am cooking frequently and there has been no secret remodeling of my kitchen while I sleep (I checked just in case the fairies had snuck in overnight) but perhaps it is my repertoire that needs a makeover?

While I contemplate my mojo, feast your eyes on one of the pretty fruit trees (species anyone?) in Lucy’s country garden, that I had the pleasure to visit on my day off.




Pretty, aint it.

I have difficulty letting go

Now it's the height of spring, the winter vegetables and herbs have bolted with the return of the sun and plentiful rain.

Reluctantly I annex a runway down the centre of the 9 square metre of garden to plant tomatoes. One Grosse Lisse and two of my favourites, Tommy Toes.

This means pulling up yet more man-sized patches of nettles. The sting is still virulent months after the plant is removed from the soil. (Note to self: If I'm to insist on letting the nettles grow of their own accord I really must plant some dock).

The kale has gone to flower. I'm enjoying the splash of yellow out my backdoor too much to unearth them as yet. The coriander, I bargain, can stay til there are seeds to harvest. The parsley is still edible, though the flavour grows stronger and more bitter by the day.

But really, I just can't let go.

Gardening, even on such a miniscule scale is like having a living Buddhist parable on my doorstep. One moment it looks perfect. Young green leaves to eat in salad, plump grapes on the vine. Weeds banished. The next, the fruit is rotting. The weeds have taken over. The herbs have bolted.

Impermanence.

Despite knowing nothing stays the same, that there is no point holding onto the past, I'm not ready to pull out the spent winter plants yet.

Just another week of soaking in their soothing shades of green.

Or until the tomatoes have grown enough.

more gardening

Catalog card generator via I Saw You Dancing

garden update

Spring is here and while the water catchment is not overflowing, there's 50% more water in the dams than this time last year. Dropping back to Stage 2 restrictions we can water by hand at whenever we wish, not that the garden needs it after all the winter and spring rain. After just a couple of days away it's been a shock to see the overgrown greenery in my tiny veggie patch.


A see of green: nettles, radicchio, kale, chilies (being harvested), silverbeet (chard) spring onions, coriander, parsley and cauliflowers.


The SE was bought up on radicchio, I'd call this chicory, though they are all varieties of the same family. This leaf is very bitter but it'll make great horta.


shhh the baby cauliflower is sleeping...


...one that has woken up, now harvested for tonight's dinner.


chilies harvested, soon to be harissa.

There are a few strawberry plants struggling to survive as the cat keeps covering them up. I'd like to grow more spring onions and salad greens before summer hits. There will be tomatoes in summer but not sure what else I can fit (the raised bed is only a few square metres). Any ideas?

If you'd like some nettles and can pick them up from Melbourne's inner north this weekend, email or message me.

waving not drowning and a few green chillies

April has been a bit of a daze, crammed full of visitors and a trip across the Tasman. In that time the only new taste experience to cross my palate has been some excellent smoked mackerel courtesy of a Wellington supermarket, conveniently located across the road from the doctor’s surgery that my parents seem to spend so much time visiting.

I’m ready for something new and exciting on my plate but first there’s work to catch up on, domestics to attend to and other mundane but necessary things to complete, like doing GST and other tax related chores.

I have fresh green and red chillies I’m looking for ways to preserve. The green in particular are enticing me this year – the flavour is rounded yet there is still a punch in the heat. Ideas anyone?

And what to plant for winter? I just have a few square metres of space. Will dig in some organic manure on the weekend and get a few bales of pea straw in readiness. I’m thinking parsley, lettuce (cos and rocket?), spring onions…what do you reckon?

Thanks for dropping by, am looking forward to returning to the kitchen soon.

from the garden: a simple chickpea and silverbeet curry recipe

Home late, craving good honest vegetables. I’d had the foresight to soak some chickpeas overnight and cook them before leaving for work. Why does such a simple act make me feel disproportionately virtuous? Really it’s no effort at all and the legumes cooked in 40 minutes, easy.

This easy combo hit the spot, with a nice rounded, spiciness thanks to the homegrown chilli.

Simple chickpea and silverbeet curry recipe

(quantities are flexible, just make sure there is enough liquid)
Vegetable oil
1 large onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 fresh green chilli, finely sliced
a small knob fresh ginger, finely chopped
2 tsp cumin seeds, roasted and ground
2 tsp coriander seeds, roasted and ground
2 cups cooked chickpeas
a big bunch of silverbeet (aka Swiss chard), washed, spines removed and roughly chopped
4 big tomatoes, chopped (or 1 can crushed tomatoes)*
1 cup vegetable stock
salt, to taste

Sauté onion in ample vegetable oil (I used coconut) over low heat til translucent. Add the spices and stir for a couple of minutes. Toss in the chickpeas. Add silverbeet a handful at a time til wilted. Throw in the tomatoes and stock. Bring to a simmer, stirring every now and then. Cook for about 30 minutes.

Serve with your favourite rice.


* I've made a similar version substituting tomatoes with tamarind water.

the week that was

A quickie – as this tennis-elbow-over-use-painful-arm kind of thing means I really should keep away from the computer for a while.

But while I’m here – a few things from the past week.

Cooking:
The muffins just keep getting better. I’ve found that 3 bananas are even better than two, ground macadamia nuts go well with chocolate and they can always take a bit more spice. Today I supplemented the last of the unbleached white flour with 50% buckwheat and they were perfect.

Eating lots of salads – a tin of legumes, another of tuna, lots of fresh greens, fennel, Tommy toes from the garden and olives, bought together with a mustardy vinaigrette.

Quiet weekend – perfect for an espresso and some journal writing.




Harvest:
Tomatoes continue doing their thing. Have slow roasted a big tray with some garlic, slipped off the skins and whizzed up the puree and frozen in batches for winter. On one of those hot, steamy summer nights no less.

Grapes have been smaller in number of bunches this year but taste wonderful. We stand under the vine and them straight into our mouths.




The Vietnamese mint is the happiest I’ve ever seen it. Very lush. Hopefully it won’t go the way of the peppermint that flourished last summer then died all of a sudden.



Mushroom identification anyone?



Found these little fungi lurking in the pot of rosemary today. Any ideas on what they are?

it’s a jungle out there

Another downpour last night! The garden is lush, a small forest of tomato plants, spring onions, cos lettuces and silverbeet.

But there are some people in this city who live in a different kind of jungle; under railway bridges or in temporary accommodation, sleeping with one eye open.

No crispy cos salad straight from the garden or delicious morsels at Bistro Flor for them.

A timely reminder that StreetSmart is in full swing in the eastern states, until December 24th. Support your favourite local restaurants supporting Street Smart – getting money to the grassroots organisation in your community that are helping those impacted by homelessness.