It’s Super Cali Fragil Istic, or so

daphne on March 22, 2010

Last week while Colorado was being slammed with yet another blizzard, I was off in sunny Atlanta battling a stomach bug visiting friends battling stomach bugs with friends.  News that my laid-back un-anxious husband had rushed our youngest to the emergency room with a high fever did nothing to help settle my stomach.

It was not exactly a jolly holiday with Mary.

But by the time I returned my daughter’s fever was under control and the snow, which remained firmly frozen over last year’s garden plot,

was melted completely away from the newly selected southern spot.  So I took a teaspoon of sugar to help the medicine go down, then I hit the dirt.

I planted snap peas, spinach. lettuce and onions in the lusciously warm soil outside.  Then I started the broccoli, chard, tomatoes and eggplant in a cozy nook in our dining room.

Maybe Dave had harbored ideas of lounging around, maybe he even wanted to go fly a kite, but instead he hunkered down to constructing the frame for our new plot.

Meanwhile the girls declared it officially picnic weather.  They swept the snow to the ground and snacked in the sun.

It would be hours before we trekked down to Denver to see the musical Mary Poppins (what? you didn’t catch the theme?)

Yet the feel of fresh dirt was warm in my hands.  Soon, so soon, we’d have fresh vegetables.

The girls laughed as they danced from snow pile to swing set.

My handsome hard-working husband hammered happily.

I’m a lucky lady.

It was a perfect day.

And I felt positively supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

Footloose and Sneezy-free

daphne on August 22, 2009

Thank you to all for the plethora of suggestions on how to beat the seasonal snotties.  I take it you were not impressed with my plan of barring the doors and windows and never venturing forth into polite company again?

Worries over me becoming a hermit are groundless.  Why just today I strolled out through the door and into my garden.  I made it almost 5 minutes before the allergens launched their merciless attack.  And despite the onslaught I lasted another half hour past that, long enough to photograph the progress of the garden.  Because, yippee, we are making progress.

Not only have the cucumbers finally gone co-ed, but they’ve been (getting) busy.  They are not big, they are not ready, but they are going to be tasty. . .if they reach their teens before the first frost. (Note, objects taken at extreme close-up may actually be just a tiny fraction of apparent size.)

Not quite as far along socially are the squash vines.  Still, credit where credit is due–they too are showing signs of leaving bachelorhood behind.  Here, without further ado, is our first female flower.

Allow me to introduce you to Big Bertha, our beautiful butternut babe-to-be.  I am expecting big things from her, assuming some studly male steps up and does his duty.

I am impressed by the perseverance of the rainbow chard.  I had given it up as gone to the bugs when we returned home to find the leaves holey and frail; but when I trimmed them back new growth sprung forth.  Looks like the cucumbers may have someone to play with after all (you know, on my salad plate.)

The raspberries are numerous and ripening fast–

Ahh, and the tomatoes.  The tomatoes are hanging heavy.  Really heavy.

Is it wrong to think that it might be time for my produce to get a bra?


My, What Big Spinach You’ve Got Granny

daphne on July 9, 2009

There is a chance, I suppose, that since I’ve deserted it our sweet little garden has runneth over, but I’m not holding my breath.  I’m visiting my mother, and she has shown me how a real garden behaves.  It’s not that my cute little berry patch back in Colorado isn’t special; it is.  But next to this macho New York garden with its prime beach-front location and vines reaching for the stars, mine seems a bit underwhelming.

Look closely.  Can you find my girls? That’s them being consumed by greenery as they munch their way through grandma’s garden.  My what big spinach you’ve got granny…now how about you get it to spit out the children?

It’s not just the size of her prolific garden, or the fact that it’s situated on a piece of real estate that makes broccoli everywhere envious.  Something about those leafy greens put a spell on our children.  It was all we could do to tear the six cousins out of the garden and convince them to jump in the bay.  The beach? Maybe later; hey, who wants more salad?

The snap peas are sweet and crisp, a favorite along with the cucumbers.  But surprisingly, these kids can’t keep their picking fingers off the fennel (they call it licorice, and save it for “salad dessert.”)  They also chomp with glee through the spinach and chard.  Ok, so for those keeping score, it’s North Carolina for earth-friendly, grass-fed protein, and New York for getting kids and their vegetables together in harmony.

Cousin Emily adored the mint leaves.  And I think Evan owes his Spider Man powers to the hundreds of blades of lemon grass he chewed.

My mother remains modest about her remarkable gardening success.  She suggests only that we place lo-jacks on the children to allow us to pull them to safety when it’s time to give them their ice cream.

You do remember ice cream, don’t you kids?

Roly-poly pavilion now open!

daphne on May 13, 2009

On Saturday morning, while I was busy disengaging the wild raspberries from the strawberry patch and moving weeds to make room for rainbow chard seeds, my daughters had more pressing matters at hand.  The pine needle roof of the fairy home, constructed specifically to allow for shade and breezes, had blown over. At least now we had our answer as to what was keeping the winged nymphs from moving in.

The girls set right to work…but you know contractors.  No sooner had they promised to address the structural issues that had befallen the fairies then another job demanded their attention:  the roly-polies had arrived, and they needed a pavilion. Stat.

Ahhh the roly-poly, characterized by an ability to roll into a ball when disturbed.  Not that I am criticizing.  After all, I’ve got access to happy hour.  Who’s to say that without that half-priced vodka tonic I wouldn’t be curled up in a ball myself?

The girls whiled away the afternoon, attending to the myriad needs of the bugs of our backyard.  Girls will be girls, you know.  And for my girls, even the smallest moth deserves healthcare with respect. Which explains Kira’s rage at her father, who, as she reported to me during my absence, “refused to call an entomologist,” despite her beloved moth’s “near-death state.”

I know. I can hardly believe I’m married to such a cold-hearted snake.  Refused his children the right to see an entomologist?  What kind of monster indeed?

I don’t know.  Maybe it’s my fault for setting the bar too high when I phoned in for back-up from the Humane Society to help out with that baby bird last year.

Or maybe Daddies just don’t understand the special bond between a girl and her moth.

Chard, the thing that makes you say Mmmm (really!)

daphne on March 4, 2009

I am shocked. I had been wracking my brain trying desperately to write something garden-y amid late winter doldrums that would somehow resonate, and Bam! I hit the health-food jackpot. The outpouring in support of chard, sleeper vegetable of the year, has been overwhelming.

Here I was bravely choking down the stuff in the name of health when there are hundreds upon thousands of chard fanatics with a deep understanding of this under-appreciated vegetable.  You already knew why to serve it.  You even know how to grow it.  But more to the point, you really know how it should be eaten.  Hint: it can be crunchy!

Ok, crunchy chard. I am intrigued…go on. Where will this wacky nutritious hero pop up next?

Funny I should ask myself, because I happen to have an answer.  With summer just around the corner (and down the street and around the bend) thoughts turn to carnivals (work with me here.)  Blue skies, balloons, and loads of good clean American deep-fried fun.  Wait, hear me out.  I’m not suggesting you call it quits and break out the fryer, I’m simple setting the scene for our new crunchy, healthy friend….

Speaking of friends, my friend Annie is incredible.  Awesome, amazing Annie. She’s a magician who miraculously took our bitter, vitamin-packed pal and presto! change-o! Turned it into a crispy, carnival-worthy, snickity old snack.

And here, for the first time in North America, Annie has willingly revealed her secret for changing a nutrient packed yuck into a nutrient-packed yum.

Now I’m not going to lie to you. This recipe works best if you’ve got a top hat and a long black cape lined in purple satin.  Of course you can try it wearing jeans and a t-shirt.  Results may vary.

(Worried about me?  Think I’m showing just a bit too much enthusiasm for chard? Perhaps, but it has been a long winter.  And all I’m asking is that you try it first. Then come on back and judge me.)

1.    Wash the chard.
2.    Slice and remove the stalks. Set aside for salads or other recipe.
3.    Slice the leaves in half or quarters. Set aside to dry.

You’ll need a light dressing.  Mine was a simple vinaigrette, but anything will do; whatever you’ve got got in the house or throw together some of your favorite flavors.  I made a tray plain for the girls, with just a little oil and salt.

Mix together the dressing:
•    ½ cup Olive oil
•    ¼ cup Balsamic vinegar
•    1-2 Tbsp Mustard
•    2-3 Tbsp crushed garlic
•    Salt and pepper to taste.

1.    Toss the chard leaves in the dressing. Make sure to coat the leaves but they should not be drenched.
2.    Lay the chard flat on a greased baking sheet.
3.    Sprinkle with a little salt.

Bake for 7-8 minutes in 375° oven.  Watch closely so leaves crisp but don’t char.

Your guests, even your children, will be amazed!

Annie’s Magical Chard Chips

daphne on March 4, 2009

My daughter actually said this last night:

Mom, can I eat the chard now, or do I have to wait for dinner?

I kid you not, this is good stuff.  Even I’ve been eating my greens lately; it’s that good.

Ingredients: Olive oil, chard, salt

Wash chard, and blot – leave it a little bit damp.
Slice and remove the stalks. Set aside for salads or other recipe.
Slice the leaves in half or quarters.

Drizzle oil on a baking sheet, and arrange the chard in a single layer.

Sprinkle with salt.

Bake for 7-8 minutes in 400° oven.

Watch closely so leaves crisp but don’t char.  Eat as is or dip in your favorite dressing.