"We're experimenting with some volatile herbs, dude..."

My weekend of weeding and mulching culminated in me finally biting the bullet and buying some herbs.
I hadn't yet because I was hopeful I might be able to grow some from seeds. But my mint died tragically and without warning, so I decided to hedge my bets. I still my try to get some seedlings later, but for now I'll just enjoy my fully grown and thriving - and did I mention organic? - herbs. My first round was a robust mint (for tea, mojitos and dog biscuits), a sprawling oregano and tall stand of rosemary. I plan to supplement them with more herbs later, but this is a good start.

I planted rosemary and oregano together in one planter:

The mint's voracious nature relegated it to a separate pot:

The particular mint I picked was already pretty large, so hopefully I'll be able to make a lot of mint tea and dog biscuits.

I've already made a delicious 30-minute corn chowder, which was made more delicious with fresh oregano and rosemary. I'll share that recipe soon. I plan to add some parsley and thyme to my collection and possibly some cilantro.

Around the house: Not "Welcome to the Jungle" anymore

I have a love-hate relationship with weeding. On the one hand, I love the results. The plots looks so loved and cared for. I also get the satisfaction that I did something that day, instead of doing what I do everyday (sitting on the couch, watching TV). I even sort of like the healthy muscle soreness in my arms. It's almost like I worked out (which I sort of did)! But I hate the sore lower back. Or the bug bites and stabs from particularly vengeful plants that I end up covered with by the time I'm done. So maybe that's why our house was beginning to look something like this:

 *Not an actual picture of our house*

But this was the weekend I had enough. And I attacked. I ripped and dug and yanked. And I discovered the candytufts I planted a few months ago. And the azalea plant that I brought back from the brink with a little acidic plant food. I even found a flower that had shown up all on its own.

An Anderson's expert (read more about Anderson's here) identified the little guy as a Vinca, a flowering annual that likely was brought to our little plot by a bird. While we were at Anderson's we snagged some hardwood mulch (for $3.50 per bag) as well as some topsoil to fill in some holes that were bequeathed to us via the previous' residents' children. By the end of the weekend our front plot now looks like this:

Gorgeous! Though, it's hard to be amazed when you don't have a before. My bad. I guess I'm not the best blogger when it comes to that.

CSA Week 7: Tomatoes!

This week's delivery is really the reason I bothered to get a CSA in the first place, and I can explain it in two words: fresh tomatoes!

This delivered included a bag of fresh green beans, two green bell peppers, eight ears of corn, 10 red potatoes, two cucumbers, four zucchini and five tomatoes. This is my most exciting delivery since the first one, which included strawberries and blueberries.

Price breakdown

• 1 lb. fresh green beans: $1.99
• 2 green bell peppers: $3.98
• 8 ears of corn: $11.92
• 10 red potatoes: $4.84
• 2 cucumbers: $3.38
• 4 zucchini: $5.24
• 5 tomatoes: $9.98
• Total: $41.32
• Total saved: $20.32

This total seemed higher to me than normal, but I realized that I was able to price for almost all organic produce, and this delivery was huge. The tomatoes, by the way, are delicious. Like food-gasm delicious. Seriously, I was making groans like Sally (from When Harry Met Sally) and the other restaurant patrons next to me said, "I'll have what's she's having." 

Surprise bloom

All this time I've spent talking about my tomato plants and I haven't really mentioned the citronella plants I purchased on the same sight-seeing trip I took to Anderson's for this blog post. While there I bought two tubs of citronella plants for $9.99 each. Yes it is that citronella and no they don't really work to keep the mosquitoes at bay as just plants. They do smell lovely though and if you take rub a crushed leaf on your skin it does seem to help a bit. This year we've been pretty blighted with mosquitoes, so every little bit helps.

Anyway, citronella is actually a citrus-scented geranium, so they do bloom. My mumsy-in-law grows them and said that in five years she hadn't seen a single bloom. But this year, her mother accidentally triggered the blooms by forgetting to water them for a few weeks. Turns out that not watering a blooming plant tends to do the trigger a survival instinct that pops out flowers to start the reproduction cycle:

Though some of my plant has turned yellow and brown, it has some gorgeous blooms on it now!

Tomato tragedy

Apparently I fail as a tomato baby mama.

After the first peek of red, I let my babies mature, content in their relative safety in my suburban backyard. And then tragedy struck, in the form of the dastardly birds that I had, only a few months ago, welcomed as a sign of glorious spring. 

The horror! There are puncture wounds all over my beautiful bounty, but they didn't even bother to eat any of the little guy. This is truly murder. If only I had a BB gun I'd show those bloody birds what's what! Anyone have a better solution to protect my lovelies?

Tomato Battle: Glimpses of red

I looked out my window the other day and I almost shrieked when I saw the flash of red among the green.

From my kitchen window, I can see the potted tomato plant, and on that plant was a tomato that was just turning red.

But this doesn't mean the potted plant is winning. When I went out to inspect my tomatoes, I learned that a tomato on the topsy turvy had also blushed.

I had forgotten the simple excitement of seeing something you nurture succeed.

Tomato Battle: Topsy Turvy ahead

The original - and only - tomato on the potted plant

Remember when I introduced my experiment pitting tomato plants grown in a traditional pot versus those grown in a topsy turvy?

My backyard, where the plants face off, apparently mediated by my Weber grill

Well it's high time we checked in with our fighters isn't it?

The potted plant has had quite an exhausting time battling gravity and how quickly the dirt dries up. But, when I water him daily (and I do have to water him daily), he's in pretty good fighting shape:

He has plenty of blossoms, but just the one tomato still. I think his drying out so quickly has burned off some of the original blossoms, which means no tomatoes from them. Some of the lower branches are a little limp and dry, but most of them are surviving well, and they are managing to protect the tomato pretty well.

Hopefully, as time goes on, the new blossoms will produce more tomatoes.

The topsy turvy, on the other hand, has flourished. It hasn't had much need to worry about gravity, though the half of the plant on the other side seems to be crawling up the pole. I think it has less trouble holding on to moisture, mostly because of there being a lot more soil in the topsy turvy and a lot more surface area for the soil to soak up the moist air (it's been pretty humid around here).

The topsy turvy has also sprouted tomatoes all over the place. There's these two, plus the original one that was on the plant when it went into the topsy turvy and a bunch of tiny ones that have sprouted up in the last few days.

Battle of the tomato plants

A while back I purchased a Topsy Turvy after everyone I know said it was amazing. Alright, I only had my mom's testimony. But, when it comes to tomatoes, that tends to be good enough for me. The things are $10, but unbeknowest to me, don't come with tomatoes! Crazy, right? So I trekked to Anderson's to look over their extensive tomato collection (including some amazing - and amazingly expensive - heirloom varieties). I settled on a more affordable "Early girl" varietal that came in a four pack. Then I realized the topsy turvy only held up to two plants. So I pulled out the old pot that Bob the tomato plant (read about his short journey here, here, here and a little bit here) lived in and died in. While that's a little bit morbid, it's also a chance to have a battle of the tomato plants.

In this corner we have the old-timer, Green Death Pot:

And in this corner, young upstart Topsy Turvy aims to steal his thunder.

If the read those sentences in a crazy 90's wrestling announcer's voice, it's twice as amusing.

Both plants have a healthy array of blooms and both already have a single tomato about the size of a marble. Let the battle begin! 

A trip to a magical land

Remember when I said I'd talk about the most magical place on earth? Well today I'm making good on my promise to take you there, in a matter of speaking.
First, the day's most exciting discovery:

 Candytufts! And lots of them. They were literally everywhere. I bought 6 of 'em just to make sure I'd have enough.

 Then there were these neat bags that you could plant things in but they hung on a wall or off a fence. The next evolution in vertical gardening?

 And rhubarb, glorious rhubarb. If it weren't for Miyagi and the chance he might accidentally eat the poisonous leaves, I might have bought a few pots.

 So pretty! And ready to give their life to make a strawberry pie better, I'd wager.

The place is huge, by the way. There is an outdoor nursery and two greenhouses, along with a gift section, cafe and sweet shop. I could lose myself for hours in the main greenhouse.

Among the ornamental plants:

Or delicious veggies and herbs:

 They even had bowls of lettuce:

 And some extremely beautiful dahlias:

This final feature is something shock and amaze. It's called "Magic Carpet Thyme":

The carpet part is due to its ability to grow quickly and spread out, to "carpet" the area you plant it in. The "magic" part, it turns out, is due to something even better. When I took a whiff to see how close to thyme it smelled like, it turns out it didn't smell like thyme at all. In fact, it smelled exactly like Fruit Loops. I'm not even joking. I circled back to snort some more right before we left and they still (amazingly) smelled exactly like one of my favorite childhood cereals. When I figure our where I might actually be able to plant these, I'm going back and I buying a bunch so I can make some area smell delicious!

Plant identification success

It's a candytuft! Yay!
Let me back up.
When we moved into the house, it came with some lovely bushes in the front plot, including three holly bushes, a dying azalea (I'm currently attempting to bring him back) and a few other types I can't immediately identify. There was also two crawling plants that were green and fairly pretty, despite it being winter. But it wasn't until spring that we learned that the gorgeous little guys sprout pretty white flowers. Like this:

The problem is that they were planted on only one side of the house, so the house just looks lopsided, especially with them in full bloom.

That's me in the reflection and to the right of the front stoop you can see our sad azalea. I hoping it will bounce back after a few doses of azalea food, purchased at the most magical place on earth, otherwise known as Anderson's Showplace, a gardening store in Newport News that I promise to talk about soon.

So I posted this photo on Facebook in the hopes that someone would be able to identify it.

Turns out one of my friends from Algeria that I met during a summer cultural exchange immediately knew and messaged me the name. So now all I have to do is get some candytufts to plant on the other side and my home will look less lopsided and more lived in. Now if only I can get the dying azalea to play along too!

More visions of Spring

Spring is popping up everywhere in Virginia. Grass is taking on a more lush feel and tiny flowers are coating areas of my backyard that had previously seemed dead.

Winter generally feels like it will never end, so it's the little reminders of spring that I am grateful for.

And it seems that spring is arriving on the blog as well. A bit of cleaning up here and there and updating many of the sections I have recently let stagnate has left me feeling cheerier. I've finally posted my columns under the "Outsider in Suffolk" tab and put the black bean soup recipe under the "From my kitchen" tab. And, as you might have noticed, I'm updating again. It's been a difficult few months, but I'm beginning to notice a new spring in my step, if you'll forgive the pun, and hopefully that will encourage more productiveness on my part.

Spring has arrived

Despite the return of chillier temperatures to the area, during a walk with Miyagi I discovered this beautiful sight:

Despite the leaves that we never bothered to rake from last fall, these daffodils have still managed to push their way into my yard, offering tidings of a great season.

Wordless Wednesdays: Fuji mums and Lemons

Photo by Carla Ten Eyck; From Little Black Book Blog

NaBloPoMo: Favorite poem

National Blog Posting Month started yesterday. This month's theme is "Now." It is actually a very interesting theme. And this month they've also created writing prompts for the weekdays. Now I've never really had problems coming up with new posts, but when I connect with a prompt I will definitely use it. Yesterday the prompt involved what you wanted to be as a child. As you can see, it's a subject that has been occupying me recently.

Today I am prompted to reveal my favorite poem, or explain why I don't have one. I've always enjoyed poetry, with some of my favorite poets including William Shakespeare, Langston Hughes and Robert Frost. While I love "Sonnet 18" by Shakespeare and "A Dream Deferred" by Hughes, recently I've been discovering some poems by Frost that I hadn't read before. My current favorite is called "A Passing Glimpse," which was published in a collection entitled West-Running Brook. I have always been enamored with how Frost utilizes simple lines to reveal complex truths, and this poem is a prime example of that quality.


A Passing Glimpse
Robert Frost

I often see flowers from a passing car
That are gone before I can tell what they are.

I want to get out of the train and go back
To see what they were beside the track.

I name all the flowers I am sure they weren't;
Not fireweed loving where woods have burnt--

Not bluebells gracing a tunnel mouth--
Not lupine living on sand and drouth.

Was something brushed across my mind
That no one on earth will ever find?

Heaven gives its glimpses only to those
Not in position to look too close.

Celebrating spring: Lemon Coconut Bars

I love spring. There's no better feeling than the warm sun on your face and a cool breeze blowing through your hair after months of depressing, gray and cold days. And witnessing trees bud, bloom and turn green always gives me hope for the future.
I would say that by far it is the bright colors that can help make life seem better again. I always thought that a gorgeous bunch of daffodils was one of the most happiest sights in the world. What better way to celebrate the lemony yellow of the flower that signals that Spring has finally arrived than with a lemony dessert?
I've never been a huge fan of lemon bars or tarts. I find most recipes either too sour or too sweet. And then I happened on a recipe from Budget Bytes (this is becoming my favorite place to discover recipes) for lemon coconut bars. It seems Beth (the blog's author) has happened upon the best way to mellow out and balance the sour without overpowering it with sweet. A perfect compliment to the balance of warmth and coolness that is embodied in the ideal Spring day.

Lemon Coconut Bars
Don't forget Beth's helpful breakdown of cost. Her estimate puts the total at an amazing $2.38.

1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1/2 cup powdered sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
4 large eggs
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1/2 cup lemon juice
1 tsp baking powder
3/4 cup shredded coconut

1. Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
   
2. In a medium bowl, combine the flower and powdered sugar. Mix until evenly combined.
   
3. Let the butter come to room temperature and then just work it into the flour mixture with your hands. Mixture will look like lumpy sand.
4. Lightly spray a 9x13 inch glass casserole dish with non-stick spray. Pour the flour/butter/sugar mixture evenly into the dish and press it down with your hands until it is compacted. Bake for 15 minutes.
5. While the crust is baking, combine the eggs, granulated sugar, lemon juice and baking powder in a bowl. Mix it well until the sugar is dissolved. The baking soda will react with the acidic lemon juice and begin to foam, don't worry.
6. When the crust is finished baking, quickly re-whisk the filling then pour it over the crust. Sprinkle the shredded coconut on top and bake the whole thing for 20 more minutes or until it is golden brown on top. Let cool for 10 minutes before slicing.
   

The squares were a hit with my future in-laws (it's been way too long since we got to see each other!). And they fit almost perfectly with the strawberry pie that was served as the other half of dessert. It was lovely to scoop up the leftover strawberry filling with the lemony squares.