Tag Archives: seeds

What is (or will be) growing in my garden this year

I promised my readers in the Huntington Beach Independent that I’d list the vegetables that I’m growing in my garden this year. Since it’s only March and spring planting is still underway, with summer and fall plantings only a dream, this is not just what I’m growing now, but also what I plan to grow in 2010.

Most of our vegetables grow in these raised beds, but I have two other small areas of veggie garden as well.

My seed orders from The Cook’s Garden and Kitazawa Seed Company have already arrived, and I’ve made purchases of Botanical Interests and Lilly Miller seeds from our closest Armstrong Garden Center. I also have some free samples from Ferry-Morse. I still need to place my order with Seed Saver’s Exchange. I save seeds, so I have plenty of packs left from last year to choose from as well as some seeds that I saved myself from heirloom varieties of vegetables.

Most seeds will last two years, and some will last five. But I have to confess that I have some seed packets old enough to drive and one old enough to vote! Those seeds are too old to sprout, so my husband plans to use some of them to make a display of various seeds for his introductory biology students at college.

Here are the vegetables that I am or will be growing this year:

Artichoke (Green Globe)

Arugula

Bean (Blue Lake pole, Cherokee Trail of Tears pole, Golden Wax bush, Kentucky Blue pole)

Beets (Chioggia, Golden, Lutz Greenleaf)

Bok Choy (baby white stem) 

Broccoli (I had yet another crop failure this winter with broccoli. I never seem able to grow good broccoli, so I’m giving up on growing my own in favor of store-bought)

Cabbage (Chinese Kaisin Hakusai, Chinese Chirimen Hakusai, Green Savoy, Red)

Carrot (Danvers Half Long, Kyoto Red)

Cauliflower (Candid Charm, Cheddar F1, Graffiti, Violet Queen)

Chard (Bright Lights, Lucullus, Rhubarb)

Chinese Broccoli (Ryokuho hybrid)

Collards (Champion)

Cucumber (Tendergreen Burpless, Japanese hybrid Summer Top, Spacemaster)

Eggplant (Black Beauty, Ichiban, Millionaire, Neon Hybrid, Pingtung Long)

Garlic

Ginger

Horseradish

Kale (Lacinato Italian, Scotch Blue Curled)

Komatsuna (Hybrid Green Boy)

Leeks (Blue Solaise)

Lettuce (Amish Deer Tongue, Black-seeded Simpson, Forellenschuss, Grandpa Admire’s, Green Oakleaf, Lollo Rosa, Red Sails, Red Saladbowl, Royal Oakleaf)

Mibuna

Misome

Mizuna

 Onion (Cipolla Babosa, Evergreen Bunching, Red, Yellow)

Peas (Amish Snap, Golden Sweet, Mammoth Melting Sugar, Oregon Sugar Pod, Snow Wind, Sugar Snap, Sugar Sprint, Sugar Pea Taichung 13)

Potato (Blue)

Radish (D’Avignon [French Breakfast], German White Icicle, Pink Summercicle, Redhead [Roodkopje])

Spinach (Bloomsdale, Olympia–my spinach always seems to come out stunted whether I grow it from seed or transplants and it isn’t worth the space. This is another veggie that I’m giving up on in favor of store-bought.)

Squash, Summer (Aristocrat Zucchini, Bennings Green Tint Patty Pan, Early Prolific Straightneck Yellow, Gold Nugget, Lebanese, Lunar Eclipse Hybrid Patty Pan, Yellow Patty Pan, White Patty Pan)

Squash, Winter (Blue Magic Hubbard, Green Kuri Miniature, Ponca Butternut, Red Kuri Miniature)

Sweet Potato

Sunchoke

Tomato (Better Boy, Black Krim, Brandywine, Champion, Early Girl, Mortgage Lifter, Roma)

Due to limitations of space and sun, some things are growing in bowls and containers.

I have some Amish Pie Pumpkin and Moon and Stars Watermelon seeds as well, but I had been counting on Huntington Beach to get a community garden this summer to give me the space to grow them. Not sure it’s going to happen in time. I have so little garden space that I’m growing things in felt Smart Pots in my driveway this summer. Well, there’s room for more pots in the driveway if the community garden isn’t ready in time.

Blue Potatoes and Sunchokes are growing in Smart Pots in the driveway.

Where there’s a will, there’s a way!

(To read more of Lou Murray’s environmental writing, see her weekly column, Natural Perspectives, in the Huntington Beach Independent at www.hbindependent.com /blogs_and_columns)

She who dies with the most seeds wins

Seed catalogs for 2010 start arriving in November

A recent blog post from Dee at Red Dirt Ramblings has reminded me that gardeners tend to be seed, bulb and plant hoarders. We buy more than we need. Well, who can say, really, what someone needs? What is a need? Maybe we need them for mysterious psychological reasons rather than for planting purposes.

Park and Burpee are major seed companies that offer many new hybrids each year

I think seed, bulb and plant hoarding comes from our Pleistocene roots. Ten thousand years ago, all humans were hunter/gatherers and had been for millenia before then. Having a full larder meant that we would eat over the winter. I think shopping for seeds, bulbs and plants somehow addresses that old genetic drive to collect and store food.

Cook's Garden and Territorial Seed Company are two of my favorites

Right now, my potting bench is full of 6-packs that I haven’t planted yet. I have two blueberry bushes in the yard still in their nursery pots. They’re going into their third spring at my house and they’re still not planted. And yet I will continue to buy more plants at the nursery.

Paperwhite narcissus bulbs await planting

I’ve practically filled my backyard with iris and narcissus bulbs in the past few weeks. I know that they will multiply and in a few years I’ll have more than I have room for. And yet I bought a couple more iris rhizomes the last time I was at Home Depot because they were cheaper than at Lowes. I have no idea where I’m going to put them.

Today Sylvana at Obsessive Gardener blogged about her uninventoried seed collection. When she did take stock, she discovered that she had seven packets of chives. And needed none since they’re perennial in her area (Wisconsin).

At least my seed packets are in one place. But organization? It crumbled long ago.

Oh, I’m guilty of seed-hoarding too. Big time. I save seeds from my heirloom vegetables. And I love to buy seeds. Can’t resist seeds. It’s those darn seed catalogs. They come in the dead of winter when most gardens and gardeners are dormant. We envision spring. We can picture how pretty those plants will look or how delicious those vegetables will taste. We’re seduced by the strange and exotic, and are just dying to try a new variety. And so we buy those pumpkin or corn seeds, knowing that we don’t really have room to grow them or that they generally don’t do well in our garden.

Crazy paperwhites blooming in our yard in November, one more sign of global weirding

Hope springs eternal in the breast of a gardener, especially in the dying days of autumn, and the cold dead of winter. And so it should. Give in to the urge. Buy more crocus bulbs. Place that seed catalog order. Damn the inventory.

(To read more of Lou Murray’s environmental writing, see her weekly column, Natural Perspectives, in the Huntington Beach Independent at www.hbindependent.com/blogs_and_columns/)

I need more chard!

New leaves from Rainbow Chard are almost too pretty to eat. Almost.

We’re eating chard (Beta vulgaris cicla) faster than it’s growing in my garden, despite the fact that I have two staggered plantings. It’s so pretty that I hate to cut it, but it’s so delicious that I can’t help myself.

Chard seeds look large, but the actual seeds are tiny little things inside the pods.

Chard is a vegetable in the genus Beta, and like beets, there are multiple little seeds within what looks like a big, bumpy seed. When you plant one of those big seeds, you will get up to five plants growing from it. They will need to be thinned. Seeds will last five years or longer if the seed packets are kept cool and dry.

Chard, beet greens and spinach are similar. Wild beets (Beta vulgaris maritima) grow along the coasts of  W. Europe, N. Africa and Asia. They were primarily domesticated for their leafy tops. Romans developed a variety of beet with large red roots in the early Christian period, which were referred to as Roman Beets during the late Middle ages. 

Chard grew in the fabled hanging gardens of Babylon and was cultivated by early Greeks.  During their military exploits, Romans introduced chard to central and northern Europe. Chard spread to the Far East in the Middle Ages and was in China by the 17th century. 

Spinach (Spinacia oleracea), a close relative to chard and beets in the family Chenopodiaceae, migrated in the opposite direction in comparison to beets and chard. Spinach was domesticated in southeast Asia, and made its way to Europe during the Middle Ages. Early colonists brought spinach to the New World. But enough plant history. Back to the present day.

These chard seedlings will become microgreens soon.

During a heat wave this summer, a couple of my chard plants went to seed. As I am the world’s laziest gardener, I ignored the two plants that bolted and let the seeds mature and fall where they may. The result is that patch of overcrowded seedlings above. I’ll harvest them for use in salads as microgreens. I really don’t want to save the seeds from those plants, as they weren’t my best chard. But the microgreens will be tasty in a salad for Thanksgiving dinner.

Rhubarb chard has deep red stems and dark green and burgandy leaves.

My favorite variety of chard is rhubarb chard, which I think has an unfortunate name. Actual rhubarb (Rheum rhabarbarum) leaves are poisonous because they contain too much oxalic acid to be edible. We only eat the stems of rhubarb, and avoid the leaves. Rhubarb chard is another story. I think that there is a movement afoot to call it ruby chard, and that’s a good move.

But both the stems and leaves of rhubarb/ruby chard and all other chards are edible. The leaves of chard are used like spinach, while the stems can be cooked like celery. If I’m making a stir-fry with chard, I add the chopped stems to the skillet along with the onions and garlic, then add the sliced leaves near the end of cooking. The leaves only need to be cooked enough to wilt them. Young leaves don’t need to be cooked at all and can go straight into a salad.

Stems of rainbow chard come in shades of red, orange, and yellow.

My second favorite variety of chard is rainbow chard. The leaves seem to be a bit more tender than those of rhubarb/ruby chard, and the colors are gorgeous in the garden. But I’m partial to the deep red and burgandy of rhubarb chard.

Packets of chard seeds

Two other varieties that I’ll be planting soon are Lucullus shown on the left above, and Fordhook Giant, an heirloom variety from Botanical Interests. Note that the seeds from Botanical Interests are organic. I look for organic seeds whenever I can find them, because whereever those seeds were grown, the insects were safe, and the soil was being managed properly with addition of compost instead of chemicals.

Last night, we had chard cooked Sicilian style, one of my favorite ways of cooking it. I chopped half a red onion and sauteed it in olive oil along with some crushed garlic. If I’m using the stems, I add them at this step. After the onions are translucent, I add the chard leaves, which I had sliced crosswise into half inch slices. I put the lid on the skillet and sauteed until the leaves were wilted. Salt and pepper if you wish, and/or add a dash of crushed red peppers. Add a splash of good vinegar (I used basalmic vinegar last night, but sometimes I’ll use pear chardonnay or citrus champagne vinegar), stir, cover, and steam for another couple of minutes. Serve with shaved or shredded Parmesan cheese on top. Delicious!

(To read more of Lou Murray’s environmental writing, see her weekly column, Natural Perspectives, in the Huntington Beach Independent at www.hbindependent.com/blogs_and_columns/)

Pumpkins aren’t just for Halloween

 
295 horror pumpkin 2 b&w blue filter
Spooky blue hubbard squash, carved while growing to create scars.

When I was in Monterey last week with my camera club (Photographic Society of Orange County), I stopped by the Earthbound Farm farmstand for an organic, vegetarian lunch at their salad bar. Earthbound Farms was at the forefront of the large-scale, commercial organic produce movement in the early 1980s. They started out with 2.5 acres of organic raspberries and are now the largest growers of organic produce in the US, with 33,000 acres farmed by 150 different farmers. But their little farm stand in Carmel Valley still retains the feel of a family farm roadside outlet.

Earthbound Farm

Earthbound Farm roadside stand is decorated for autumn

pumpkin totem

Pumpkins impaled on a spike made a great totem pole.

Many fascinating varieties of heirloom pumpkins waited for someone to choose them and take them home: Queensland Blues, Jarrahdales, Rouge Vif d’Etampes, Fairy, Long Island Cheese, Kabocha, and of course the standard orange Connecticut Field pumpkins. Surfaces ranged from smooth to warty, with various degrees of ridging, and colors ran a rainbow from pale buff to orange to deep red and even to blues, grays and greens. Shapes varied from round to oblong to flat.

But how many of those pumpkins are going to just get tossed after Halloween? They’re FOOD, for heaven’s sake. The seeds can be salted, roasted and eaten, put out for the birds, or saved for next summer’s garden.

green and white pumpkinsridged pumpkinsThe flesh is what goes into pumpkin pies. I cut my pumpkins in half and bake them, scoop out the flesh and put it through a ricer. I freeze what doesn’t get used right away for pies or soup. At the very least, pumpkins can go into the compost bin instead of the trash can.

Each variety seems to have its own taste. I don’t care for the flavor warty pumpkinsof the white pumpkins. Too anemic in flavor as well as color. I think the taste of the Long Island Cheese or Fairy pumpkins is inferior to the Sugar or New England Pie pumpkins, but taste is a personal thing. Connecticut Field and Howden pumpkins can be too fibrous, although the flavor is fine. Queensland Blues are wonderful to eat, but you need military-grade equipment to cut into their hard shell. I cut my last Queensland Blue into cubes and cooked it in the crockpot along with chunks of grass-fed bison hump from our local farmer’s market, plus potatoes, onions and red wine.assorted pumpkins

If we get our community garden operational by next summer, I finally should have room to grow pumpkins. I’ve been saving seed from Halloween pumpkins for a couple of years now. They’ll last about five years. I also have some seeds of Amish Pie pumpkins from Ferry Morse seed company that I want try. And then I discovered the offerings at Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds. They have a lot of unusual varieties from southeast Asia that could go into soups, stews, pies, risotto, tempura and stir-fries. So many pumpkins varieties, so little space, and only so many summers.267 organic sign

(To read more of Lou Murray’s environmental writing, see her weekly column, Natural Perspectives, in the Huntington Beach Independent at www.hbindependent.com, under columnists. This week’s column is on urban chickens! See it at http://www.hbindependent.com/articles/2009/10/29/blogs_and_columns/natural_perspectives/hbi-natural102909.txt/ It should remain online for 5 weeks.)