Showing posts with label edibles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label edibles. Show all posts

Monday, March 4, 2013

Perfect Peas...You Can Grow That!




We're in serious countdown mode for spring...only 15 days, 5 hours, as of my most recent check. Hooray! But, my friends, you know what that means: it's time to get busy.

I know some of you are still buried in snow. I'm sorry. Here, in our zone 7b gardens, we're cleaning up beds, adding fresh compost, and—of course—planting peas.


Peas are one of the easiest, earliest, and most satisfying spring crops to grow. With two children who fuss about every vegetable served, I'm in heaven when I find something they'll eat without too much drama.

And they eat peas.

Peas get a bad rap. Too many generations grew up with the smelly, unfortunate canned peas that they were forced to choke down at the dinner table. 

Fresh-from-the-garden peas, however, share no resemblance to their canned cousins. These sweet, crunchy, garden treats often don't make it to our dinner table. Instead, they're eaten like candy, munched on while gardening, a handful plucked while playing with pups.

This year, however, I've planted enough peas to ensure they will accompany meals—and hopefully enough to harvest and store as well. While I planted peas in the main kitchen garden, more pea seeds await their new home in the potager. (Can someone please figure out how to add a few more hours to the day? I seriously need the extra time or a clone in order to get everything done. Thank you.)

Of course, I couldn't decide on just one variety. Instead, I selected six pea varieties for the gardens this spring. Golden Sweet, Blauwschokkers (Blue Podded Shelling), Amish Snap, Snowbird, English Sugar Snap, and Tom Thumb are all tucked into the cool soil.

But how do you decide which varieties to select? And how can you ensure good growth and harvest?

No worries. Peas are simple. I promise: You Can Grow That!


Selecting Seed

First, decide which type of pea you and your family enjoy the most. Do you love stir fry? You'll want to grow snow peas in your garden. Do you want to harvest and save peas for winter dishes? You'll want to add shelling peas. If you enjoy eating sweet, crunchy side dishes, sugar snap peas provide a delicious, nutritious addition to dinner.

Or, like me, you can grow a bit of each variety to cover all of your bases.

When selecting seed, you're looking for peas that have edible- or non-edible pods. Non-edible pods are the traditional shelling peas, which are quite labor-intensive. You won't win over the kids' taste buds if you enlist them to shell peas for hours.

Edible-podded peas include snap and snow peas. Snap peas are eaten similarly to snap beans—they are, after all, related. Simply remove the ends and pull off the string, et voilá! A tasty treat, ready for eating. You can also serve them cooked, but remember—less is more. There's nothing appetizing about mushy peas.

Snow pea pods are also eaten. However, they're traditionally picked before the pea inside the pod swells. These are the yummy flat peas most often associated with stir fry.

Of course, it would be too simple to have only two types of peas, right?

Then, we have dual-purpose peas. My purple podded and Golden Sweet varieties can be harvested small and eaten like snow peas, or I can allow them to ripen on the vine to produce shelling peas. (By default, I tend to get quite a few shelling peas when life gets too busy for daily harvesting.)


Grow
Peas benefit from an overnight soaking in water to speed germination. I've planted both straight and pre-sprouted seeds, and I've always enjoyed an earlier harvest from the pre-sprouted vines.

Sow seeds early, as soon as you can work the soil in the spring. (I also plant a second crop in the fall, and in our zone with a bit of frost covering—we harvested peas through December.) Space seeds 2-3” apart and plant at approximately ½-inch depth.

Peas thrive in well-drained, moist soil with good sun, approximately 6-8 hours. Honestly, though—our peas planted in the potager grow well with less than the recommended amount of sun. When planning crop rotation, peas often do well following potatoes, and brassica crops do well following peas, as they absorb the nitrogen that peas nodules provide if the roots remain in the ground.


Pea varieties range from two to 10 feet in height, with the tall varieties requiring trellises. I plant my peas in the same beds that held last season's tomatoes, taking advantage of the staking/trellising system that I used for the tomatoes. Rows of peas are planted on each side of the trellis. In our potager, peas trellis along the garden fence, which is not only practical—it's also pretty. Pea blossoms are a gorgeous addition to the edible garden.

Have limited space or no yard? Peas are an ideal crop for you. Because they grow vertically, you'll have room for other cool weather crops, like lettuce or Swiss chard. A large container and a tomato cage provide an easy method for balcony gardeners to enjoy peas, and the dwarf 'Tom Thumb' variety can easily reside in a window box.

There's really no excuse not to eat your peas.

Harvest
Keep pea vines well-harvested. The more you pick, the more peas the vine will produce. If you plan to eat the pods of 'Golden Sweet' or similar varieties, harvest the pods young. If you prefer shelling peas, make certain the pod is mature—you can see the swell of the peas within the pod.

Be careful when harvesting peas, though. Gently remove the pods with two hands. Trust me. I've been known to break vines in my haste to harvest peas. 


Eat
Unlike the nasty peas we faced as children, homegrown peas are an easy sell. Sweet and tender, they don't need much embellishment. Still, here's a delicious recipe for you to try with your lovely crop of homegrown peas:

(From Chez Panisse Vegetables by Alice Waters)

Snap Pea, Asparagus, and Turnip Ragout

Ingredients:
2 cups snap peas
3 spring onions
20 asparagus spears
10 baby turnips
2 carrots
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
Salt and pepper
1-1/2 teaspoon chopped garlic
1 cup vegetable stock or water
½ lemon

Remove the strings from the snap peas. Trim and peel the vegetables. Slice the vegetables so that they are all about the same size—about ¼ inch thick. The asparagus, snap peas, and carrots can be sliced on the diagonal. Parboil the carrots for 1 minute in salted water.

Heat a large sautĂ© pan and add the olive oil and ½ tablespoon of the butter. When the oil is hot, add the vegetables, tossing often—first the turnips, then snap peas, onions, and asparagus, then the carrots. Cook each vegetable briefly before adding the next. Add salt and pepper. Taste for doneness—the vegetables should be tender. Add the garlic. Continue tossing until, as Ms. Waters writes, “...when the scent of garlic hits your nose, remove the vegetables from the pan.” (Yum!)

Deglaze the pan with the vegetable stock or water and add the remaining butter and a squeeze of lemon juice. Let the sauce reduce by one third and pour it over the vegetables. Serves 4.


Is it spring yet? I'm so ready for delicious peas and asparagus.

Now, out you go, into the garden with pea seeds in hand! Just think—in a few months, you will thank me for forcing you out into the cold to plant your peas.

And we'll both thank Alice Waters as we feast on her delicious recipe.

Happy gardening!

XOXO ~

Julie

Join Garden Writers on the 4th day of each month to find out how You Can Grow That!

Thursday, March 15, 2012

And she emerged from the greenhouse in time for...Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day!

Whew...I've barely made it! I've lived in the greenhouse during the past few weeks, potting up thousands of heirloom tomatoes, peppers, herbs, and flowers. My brain is--quite literally-- fried after our unexpected jump from winter to summer (high temps in the mid-80s today, which of course means it's well over 100 degrees in the greenhouse, even with three fans on full power.)

Today, though, I'm doing the happiest of dances, because...


I'm DONE!!!

Yes, all the itty bitty green babies are nestled safely in their OMRI certified biodegradable pots, surrounded by lovely organic soil, awaiting tomorrow's feeding of fish emulsion.

My neighbors will hate us for the next day or two.

The neighborhood cats, however, will be lining up outside the greenhouse. As much as my green babies love fish emulsion, it's the one element in the process that kills me a little bit. It just lingers, no matter how often I shower. It overwhelms my sense of smell, and I think I smell like rotten fish for days. Phew.

But that's a task for tomorrow.

Today, after I watered the last newly planted tray, I drank a celebratory Diet Coke, grabbed my camera, and took a quick walk around the gardens.


The hardest part of owning a small nursery is that I miss the best time of the year—spring. I'm so consumed with starting seeds that I forget why I started gardening in the first place—to enjoy the magic of the first blooms of the season. Even though today is hectic—work, kids' horseback lessons, errands—I'm so grateful for May Dreams Gardens for hosting Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day. It forces me to stop for a few moments and enjoy what's happening in the gardens.


And—oh my. What a crazy plant party is going on!

Edibles! Ornamentals! Medicinals! Oh my!

The overwhelming theme, though, is—weeds. Eek! And mulch—needed ASAP! And—where did all of those leaves come from? I vividly remember hauling ten billion leaves out of the beds this fall. Yeesh.

So, if you'd be so kind to overlook the random weeds that crept into the photos, and search carefully under the bed of leaves...you'll find what's blooming and growing in our garden.

Let's start with the pretties:

Daphne. Last Bloom Day, I raved about my neighbor's daphne. Now, I have two pots to call my own.

And it is heavenly.


Tra la! It's almost spring! Five more days, and it's official! Our daffodils, though, are almost gone, except for a few...plus the other hundred or so that I planted about a month ago. (I know, I know...I was overzealous last fall and seriously over-ordered bulbs. Twelve-hundred bulbs, to be exact. I still have a few boxes that I'm going to plant to see what happens. Curse those 40% off sales.)


But these Ziva paperwhites were from that order, and they are now gracing the path to the small greenhouse. 

Totally worth it.

And these tulips, too, somehow had the stamina to endure weeks (months) of dark to be planted a mere six weeks ago...






And then there are the cherries...

This is my daughter's birthday tree. We planted it when she was born.

She'll be 11 on April 2.

I'm teary, just thinking about it. (You can see her through the years with her tree here.)

Can I tell you, my tomboy, chicken-loving, horse crazy girl had to change outfits, fix her hair, and put on lip gloss before we went to Barnes and Noble last night?

I'm dying. I need to stop time and keep her little.

 


One of my favorite additions to the garden is the weeping cherry. 


The chickens enjoy it, too.



The viburnum is ready to pop. I've never seen it so full of potential blooms.

And the forsythia...finally, all of the bushes in the front, back garden and forest are filled with cheerfulness. Even the bushes our pups chewed last year recuperated and are blooming like mad. Nothing announces spring like forsythia blossoms.

I even cut some to bring inside this year. 




The hellebores continue to amaze...more and more keep popping up all over the gardens, which is fabulous because we have so much shade. And--I just discovered a nursery that specializes in amazing hellebores. Don't tell my husband, but I think I need some online retail therapy. 

(You know, he reads my blog. I think he's even a fan. This is just my subtle way of letting him know that I'm ordering a few plants...) 

Just a few. Not 1,200.

This camellia makes me think of brides...lovely, blushing brides. Or sweet, itty bitty baby girls who don't care about lip gloss. 


Crazy--even the coreopsis is blooming.

My favorite perennial is peeking out from the leaves. Truly, is there anything as gorgeous as a bleeding heart? 


In the back tiered beds by the pool, coral bells are emerging...


 ...and the creeping phlox popped a few blooms.


Ferns fill our shady gardens, and I adore watching the fiddleheads emerge.

Woodland violets...scattered throughout the forest.


Tea Olives with new growth and tiny blooms...

Pieris Japonica...which I used to abhor and now adore.


I've always much preferred spring flowers like columbine compared to imposing, in-your-face shrubbery...


The blooms are darling and the leaves are lovely on their own.

Then, yummy: Edibles!

In my opinion, most edibles are as gorgeous as any ornamental--with the added value of deliciousness! 


"This is the dawning of the Age of Asparagus, the Age of Asparagus..."



Future blueberry pie!


Divine Fraise des Bois! We'll never have a pie from them, but they are the most scrumptious treat imaginable. I've planted them in containers, in the forest, as borders...they are beautiful, evergreen, and mouthwatering.


Swiss Chard is still going strong...and is about to become a frittata tomorrow.


Peas are beginning to peak out...

This year, I'm growing eight varieties of garlic, plus shallots and onions, in grow bags and containers. So far, the results look promising.

I am, of course, in dire need of getting the big garden and potager cleaned up and planted. You know what they say about the shoemaker's children? Well, that's the same as the trials of the nursery owner's gardens. 

Finally, herbalicious:

I'm honestly in awe of this little raised bed that I planted to showcase medicinal herbs. Now, I'm not an herbalist, but I do have herbalists who request that I grow specific plants for them. I'm fascinated by the history of herbal cures. In fact, I attended an organic growers' workshop this past weekend, with a tract dedicated to medicinal herb usage. I was so excited to learn about how to use mugwort and tansy, wormwood and clary sage.

It was so disappointing.

However, when I looked at the herb gardens today, I was far from disappointed. In fact, I was amazed by the growth:

 Pennyroyal

Valerian

 Wormwood

Clary Sage

 Feverfew

 Self-Heal

Wood Betony
 
 Roman Chamomile
Horehound

 Tansy
Still, I have a shelf of books devoted to herbs, so I'm going to keep reading and learning. Will I ever treat my kids with an herbal concoction I brew in the kitchen?

Probably not.


But I think I'm brave enough to make lemon balm tea. Just brushing the dead leaves away from the lemon balm left the most delicious fragrance on my fingers.

Bliss.

Thank you, May Dreams Gardens, for reminding me to get outside and enjoy the blooms. I'm looking forward to virtually visiting the other garden bloggers' spring gardens!

Happy almost-spring!

XO ~

Julie