French sorrel

A seed order last June included French sorrel, among other interesting seeds (I think it must have been the Dyna kohlrabi that produced so well in containers for Garden Fest!)

French sorrel (Rumex scutatus) is kin to garden sorrel (Rumex acetosa), a European species that's made a home in acidic disturbed areas in many places.

I sowed some seed in containers, then transplanted 3 plants to the main vegetable garden, not expecting too much. But after a mild showing in fall, these plants have been producing large succulent leaves all spring. And, they grow fast.

So I've been investigating what the heck you do with an abundance of sorrel leaves -- hmm, sorrel soup sounds good, but the recipe that calls for a 1/2 cup of heavy cream isn't going to happen. Small leaves in salads are delicious, certainly (sorrel is quite tart, because of the oxalic acid in the leaves). A pesto made with sorrel was quite tasty this evening, although a bit bland (more garlic next time, perhaps, and sharper cheese). A sorrel tart quiche sounds good (but doesn't use enough leaves).

Perhaps I'll try my all-purpose solution to an abundance of leafy greens - a LARGE stir-fry of leaves in olive oil and garlic with a splash of balsamic vinegar. Yum. And left-over greens are always good, too.

Preserving and storing food

A blogging friend in England mentioned that storing food is a bit of a lost art; I'm certainly guilty about not thinking (and doing) more about food security and self-sufficiency.

I've been promoting vegetable gardening as a fun, creative activity in my work; laudable, to be sure, but maybe there's more that I should focus on.

My two vegetable garden areas produce enough fresh vegetables for us to eat for six months of the year, but I'm also buying things at the supermarket, now in winter. There are greens to be harvested, to be sure, so that's good. But I'm buying potatoes, lettuce, spinach, and broccoli.

But I avoid any (long-traveled, or excessively fossil-fuel enriched) tomatoes or peppers, but I get demerits because my gardening companions loves bananas, and I buy them for him (and eat a few myself).

Winter vegetables

Even though it's been January weather for us this past November, with more freezing days than we'd had in the fall for some time, it's amazing how well the winter greens in our sheltered vegetable garden next to the Garden's visitor center have done.

This photo is earlier in the fall.

The small garden is sheltered by a low brick wall, and it's in full sun; apparently enough heat is stored in the brick to temper the overnight temperatures.

The snow peas have been frosted, and the purple mustards show signs of frost damage, but fresh leaves continue to appear in both the mustards. The turnip greens, kale, broccoli, and collards are fine, as I'd expect, but the spinach also looks wonderful, and amazingly, the arugula in the mesclun mix is looking fine. Ditto, the lettuces, which must get enough warmth from the wall to be sheltered from frost damage.

Perhaps I need to build a wall around some of my beds at home to extend the season!

Winter greens

A recent comment had me thinking about winter greens and their response to the lengthening and warmer days to come in spring. Hardy kales, cabbages, and collards are able to withstand the frosts and freezes of winter because of their leaf chemistry and built-in ability to produce natural 'antifreeze.' But they don't have the ability (nor does much else) to grow very vigorously at low temperatures. So our winter vegetable gardens are basically in suspension, until warmer temperatures support the physiological functions that convert sunlight to sugars and drive cell division and expansion.

So collards or hardy lettuces in an unheated greenhouse can be harvested all winter, but won't start new growth until it's warm enough again.