You are currently browsing the category archive for the 'in the backyard' category.
We had our first real frost last night, this one arriving considerably later in the season than usual. But it’s been so rainy and cool for so many weeks now that the remains of the summer garden have largely succumbed to rot, and frost made everything feel almost clean again — almost. Of course there’s still plenty to do, like scatter decaying autumn leaves across the garden beds, and shelter the lettuces, or get them picked.
On the patio an old Brandywine tomato plant had gone brown and soft in spots, so today while the baby napped I dashed outside, hacked down the abandoned plant, and quickly turned it under the soil, wondering just how many tomato sprouts might rise there in spring.

I love fresh flowers, but given limited garden space, I’ve always had a hard time committing to grow anything except vegetables. Sure, some blossoms like nasturtiums and violas make pretty, edible garnishes. And sure, some flowers are good organic partners, repelling unwanted critters and attracting helpful pollinators. It just doesn’t feel like the same bang for the buck.
But I’m slowly coming around, thanks to a less-than-perfect track record with certain vegetables, and this summer I opted to plant sweet peas, cosmos, and zinnas among the edibles.
Wish I could say it’s been an unqualified success but frankly, the results have been mixed. The sweet peas produce stunningly-colored blooms, but suboptimal growing conditions made for small, sparse plants. Cosmos, which demand a fair amount of elbow room, are just now putting out delicate, short-lived flowers. The only real upshot has been zinnas, which grew big and bushy and sent up multiple blossoms; something about our maritime climate seems to suit them. They look wonderful in a simple vase and contribute as much happiness at the table as what’s on the plates.

We avoided a visit from the local moose for most of the summer but this morning discovered total brassica devastation. At least the broccoli was about done.
The fava beans and potatoes were spared.

Scarlet runner beans — talk about a plant that doesn’t lack for good P.R. You can hardly get through a gardening magazine these days without somebody gushing over this heirloom varietal. Fedco, one of my preferred seed sources, claims that Thomas Jefferson grew the beans at Monticello. They might as well have come over on the Mayflower.
So this year I surrendered to the hype and planted them, and so far they’re not exactly an unqualified success. Despite a choice planting location, the vines are really pretty puny. By comparison, Wally’s Romano beans, which are up in an adjacent bed, are twice as lush. It’s pretty much a solid ass-kicking at this stage.
But! We’ve just discovered one upside to scarlet runners: the garish scarlet flowers attract hummingbirds, and we’ve had lots of backyard visitors the last few days. The tiny birds are so enthralling that I just don’t think to run for the camera, and anyway they don’t stick around for long. Still, it’s redemption enough that if the beans are halfway edible, I’ll probably grow them again next year.

My garden plans call for a perennial scallion patch, but last year’s plants succumbed to an unusually cold winter. So I started over this spring using a shortcut gleaned from Organic Gardening. You trim the root section from a mature scallion stalk, about a half-inch above the base, then plant right into the garden, and the roots put up new stems a few weeks later.
It’s so incredibly simple — you’re trimming away the base of the scallion before you cook, anyway — that I was kind of surprised to find it really works. Above is an old scallion stem that grew new white roots while in our fridge’s crisper; below, about two months later, are new scallions growing from root trimmings.
The scallions growing from root trimmings are already sturdier looking than the thin, lanky ones produced from a round of spring seeding. I’m hoping the size advantage will mean survival advantage during the cold season.
My old Rodale guide notes that scallions aren’t bothered by tight quarters; clumps can be separated just like chives when things get really crowded.


Good garden soil is critical to success so this summer we’re making a real effort to compost our yard waste. Within an hour or so of building our new pile – four layers so far, alternating between 3 inches of grass clippings (nitrogen) and 3 inches of straw (carbon) — the thermometer was reading over 110 degrees, a vast improvement over our previous dump-everything-in-a-pile technique.
There’s an art to creating good soil and Alaskan Ellen Vande Visse has provided some tips on her Good Earth Garden School site. The direct link to her composting information (available as PDFs) is here.
An organic vegetable garden comes to the White House!

The slush is finally about gone, and I’ve been out back poking around the garden. As expected there’s lots of dead stuff like lettuces, fennel, and spinach, the last of which were struggling anyway. And I’m not so sure about the fava beans, which froze solidly and now look more composted than some material in the actual compost pile.
The good news is that some of the winter crops look like they might come around with a little TLC and warmer weather. There’s the freezer-burned chard, which I may cut down to the stumps, and endive, which I chopped to the crown and potted up for forcing inside. The surprises are the mustard and purple broccoli, most of which looks relatively healthy, plus a few heads of intact raddichio. And of course the kale, which popped back up as though nothing of note happened during the past ten days.
I’m holding off on opening the worm bin that I moved under the backyard trellis after the first storm; I don’t really want to know what’s going on in there right now. My hope was that a little bit of shelter plus warmth from actively decomposing material would keep the worms from freezing, though it doesn’t matter now. There’s not much to be done about a box of dead worms except add fresh ones from the main bin when it warms up again.
Needless to say, there’s nothing remotely local or organic about Top Ramen soup noodles. A package of “beef flavor” noodles contains just 190 calories — but a whopping 18% of the delicious saturated fat you need for the day and 32% of the recommended sodium load. Yow! When it gets busy around here, though, Top Ramen is often how I feed myself when I just can’t or won’t cook.
As always, the truth is complicated. I love the stuff but also like to think of the noodles as merely a vehicle for straggler vegetables from the backyard, like the seven green beans we got last week, the handful of broccoli florets, chunks from that monster zuke. Lately I’ll also stir in some chopped Thai basil, since we’re getting so much of it this summer, and a healthy dose of chili paste. And when there’s extra meat stock on hand, I’ll eschew the flavor packet for the real stuff. When life gives you Top Ramen, make Top Ramenade.
We came home to a garden gone wild and a squash the size of a softball bat. It’s that time of year, though frankly it’s been such a cold summer that this freak of nature represented the entirety of our squash harvest to date. And the thing didn’t exactly come about easily; I had hand-pollinated it carefully, using a neighbor’s squash blossom, so you bet I was going to eat it, tough skin, adolescent seeds, and all.
In fact we’d just talked giant squash while in Maine. My mother-in-law Sally, who can cook her way out of any jam, had let slip that she liked to stuff the behemoths. She was on to something; I envisioned squash baked with feta, pine nuts, mint, and parsley. But back home I was intent on making something even simpler, sauteed zucchini tossed with fresh basil and parmesan and eaten over pasta. I think basil gives some life to squash’s slight, bland sweetness. Even better is sauteed zucchini tossed with pesto; something about that amalgam captures basil’s flavor in a way that a sprinkling of fresh leaves just can’t.
Recipe: Pasta with Zucchini and Basil
Penne, or other pasta / 1 medium zucchini squash / 1 clove garlic, minced / salt / pinch hot pepper flakes, optional / 2 tbls pesto, or 1 tbls olive oil + several torn leaves fresh basil + pepper + parmesan cheese
Cook and drain pasta. Meanwhile, heat a skillet over medium-high. Cut zucchini into matchsticks. Swirl vegetable oil in hot pan then add garlic plus a sprinkle of salt. Cook, stirring, for about 30 seconds. Add squash and optional pepper flakes and continue sauteing until squash is just cooked, 2-3 minutes. The squash should be sweet and juicy but retain its color; translucence signals overcooking. Remove pan from heat. If using pesto, toss squash with pesto and pasta and serve. If not, toss squash with olive oil, torn basil, salt if needed and black pepper, then mix with cooked pasta and parmesan cheese. Serves 2.



