Old House, Old Garden

A number of years back, I was asked to bring something for one of our end-season crew parties, so I decided to make a chili recipe that I had inherited from my mother, though with a few twists. For years, mom made us what she called “thin chili”, which received this moniker because  the dish wasn’t made from a heavy red tomato sauce like most other chilis, but rather from the juice of canned tomatoes. The effect, much lighter than many southwestern versions of chili con carne, is very pleasing, and tastes less like ketchup. Over the years however, I’ve altered this basic recipe, changing the meat from beef to turkey, then to turkey with a bit of pork, and finally adding a variety of vegetables to the mix. There are a few essentials to this chili: the meat mix is key, as it adds critical flavor; the homemade stock is equally important, as are the leeks, which lend a distinct flavor and texture to the sauce. Also the tomatoes: you easily can taste the difference between homegrown and store-bought, and the Clamato, rather than just regular tomato juice, adds a pleasant zing.  In short, don’t divert, if you wish the desired result: a fantastic, low-cost, highly nutritious meal.

Victory Garden Chili

1 pound ground turkey
1/2 pound ground pork
1 onion chopped
2 sticks celery chopped
1 carrot finely chopped
1 leek chopped
1/4 cup dried porcini mushrooms, rinsed, and reconstituted in 1/4 warm water, then chopped
2/3 cloves garlic chopped
1 cup hardy homemade chicken stock (or one cube of frozen concentrated homemade)
1 can black beans
1 can red beans
1 bottle homemade canned tomatoes, or one 16 ounce can of store-bought
1/2 bottle Clamato tomato juice
1 tablespoon paprika
1-2 tablespoon chili power
1 dash hot red pepper sauce (to taste)

Brown the meat and pork, separating into small chunks. Add the vegetables to the meat and cook over medium until soft; drain the beans, rinse and add. Add the tomatoes with juice, breaking up with a fork if required; then the rest of the ingredients, and let simmer over a low heat, covered, for 2-3 hours. (This is a perfect dish for a slow cooker, by the way, just be sure to brown the meat first.) Serve with noodles, rice or crackers. Makes 4 Servings (Double or triple for larger groups.)

OK, so we’ve all been there: enticed by those luscious catalogs glowing with glossies of ripe and redolent vegetables, we’ve rushed out, bought large quantities of seeds, and then stuck the packets in a drawer, only to remember them again in June, far too late in the game. Well, thanks to our friends at John Scheepers seeds, here’s a guide to keep you on track:

General Seed Starting Timetable: Eight weeks prior to last frost date

Horticultural Zones 9 & 10:  Start seeds indoors now.

Horticultural Zones 8:  Start seeds indoors in early February.

Horticultural Zones 7:  Start seeds indoors in mid February.

Horticultural Zone 6: Start seeds indoors in late February.

Horticultural Zone 5: Start seeds indoors in early March.

Horticultural Zone 1-4: Start seeds indoors in mid to late March.

Vegetable/Herb Seed Starting Timetable (Listed in weeks before the last frost)

Four Weeks: Melons, Bitter Melon and Cucuzzi Edible Gourds.
Six Weeks: Asparagus, Fennel, Onions, Rhubarb, Shallots, Tomatillos and Basil
Eight Weeks: Eggplant, Tomatoes, Chiles, Sweet Peppers, Chives, Sage, Stevia and Thyme
Nine Weeks: Broccoli, Cabbage and Kohlrabi (transplant out four weeks before the last frost date)
Ten Weeks: Celery, Celeriac, Jicama and Lemongrass
Eleven Weeks: Leeks, Artichokes and Cauliflower (transplant out four weeks before the last frost date)
Twelve Weeks: Cardoons and Brussels Sprouts
Sixteen Weeks: Strawberries (for first year crop) and Rosemary.

Flower Seed Starting Timetable (Listed in weeks before the last frost)

Six Weeks: Cutting Ageratum, China Asters, Celosia, Cleome, Coleus, Nepeta Catmint, Euphorbia, Forget-Me-Nots, Dahlia, Nicotiana, Scabiosa, Snapdragons and Thunbergia
Eight Weeks: Milkweed, Coreopsis, Gaillardia, Globe Amaranth, Helichrysum, Hibiscus, Hollyhock, Heuchera, Nigella, Platycodon and Statice
Ten Weeks: Dianthus, Digitalis, Lobelia and Heliotrope
Twelve Weeks: Datura, Salvia and Viola.

Of course, simply having the list doesn’t necessarily mean remembering to get the seeds in the ground, so I find that having a seed organizer like this one really does the trick:

When you receive your seeds, simply read the back of the packet to learn the planting time, pop the seed in the right slot, and put the box where you can’t overlook it. I guarantee you you’ll never miss a planting date again. I wish I could take credit for this invention, but this particular box had quite a long history even before I came on the scene: it’s the official Victory Garden seed box, and belonged to my distinguished predecessor (and very first VG host) James Underwood Crockett. When I left the show, the box was given to me as a present, and I think that Jim would be tickled to know that almost 40 years later his particular brand of Yankee frugality and common sense still works gardening magic each spring.

First Prize: B & D's new 36 volt mower

For all of you attendees just waiting to get your hands on the new Black and Decker mower I’ve been demonstrating at the South Bay Home Show, here’s what you need to do: sign up for automatic email alerts in the right hand corner of this post under “email notification”, then leave the following comment on this blog entry: Southbay Home Show. (You’ll see the comment space below.)  That’s it. All comments will be collected, printed out, removed every few hours and put in a bowl; and I’ll draw a lucky winner Sunday night; he or she can pick up the new mower at the local Lowes next week. (Details to follow via email.) First prize is the mower (a $400 value); second prize is the new 24 volt cordless trimmer ($129.) And let the best gardener win!

Thanks for coming to see me at the Southbay Home Show!

UPDATE:  10 PM Western 1/24/10: Entries are now closed. Winners will be notified by email tomorrow. Thanks again for coming!

Second prize: B&D's 24V cordless weed wacker

One of the nicest things about gardening is that it’s a hobby easy to share, and around the world there are folks with fabulous landscapes just waiting for someone to ask: may I see your lovely garden? That request, golden to any proud gardener’s ear, will open almost every door, if asked politely, and can spark a whole series of horticultural adventures.

Yours truly collecting fresh porcinis in the forests around Big Sur! Ah, pleasure!

My own latest round of garden travels began in Los Angeles, where I went to film a short spot for Black and Decker’s fantastic zero emission battery mowers and weed wackers. I had a fun morning with the film crew at a large empty estate in the Valley, whipping, whacking and edging grass and weeds for the camera. I must say that I continue to be hugely impressed by these tools. I’ve used them for years personally, but their latest iterations are truly something: fast, powerful and effective.   I’m truly proud to be B & D’s media ambassador for 2010.

After filming, I began to get ready for the next leg of my journey: off to San Jose for the South Bay Home and Garden Show. Rather than flying to Northern California, I  decided to rent a car and drive up the coast: certainly cheaper, presumably just as easy, and far more interesting.

Ha! Well, I got the last part right, anyway.

A suite at the Ventana Inn

As I had a bit of time before arriving in the San Jose area, I decided to break my journey 3/4 of the way (the drive from LA to San Jose is 300 miles up an often tortuous, cliff-hanging two-lane Highway 1) at the Ventana Inn. Located in Big Sur, one of the most beautiful, if not the most beautiful region of the US, the 5-star resort – nestled within a eucalyptus-scented forest perched on a cliff over looking crashing breakers 1000 feet below – is truly breathtaking.  (The price can be truly breathtaking too, especially in high season; fortunately January is not, and deals abound. And, unlike many hotels that look down on bargain-basement priced guests like me, everyone at Ventana is king or queen for the day.)

This wasn’t my first trip: I had been to the Inn a number of times before on media tours, including one for Ventana’s now gone and much lamented “Mushroom Hunting Weekends” where fungi aficionados would come from all over the country to attend supervised collecting trips, then sit down to a 7 course dinner with mushrooms in every course, including dessert. (It sounds bizarre, but the meal was truly spectacular.)

At any rate: those of you who have been watching the national news these last few days probably have noted the incredibly ferocious storms battering the West Coast. Now, I must be honest: I’ve never had much sympathy for Westerners complaining about the weather. After all, for 11/12 of the year, they live in Eden. It’s just RAIN, guys, get over it! Come try our Nor’easters and two feet of snow!

Highway 1 in Big Sur... Need I say more?

Let me assure you, dear readers, that these are no mere rainstorms. My own aquatic adventure started in Los Angeles, watching from my hotel room while streets flooded in seconds and seeing coconuts (!!) floating down the gutters. Then, there was the two hour drive to Santa Barbara in rain so heavy I couldn’t actually see the road,   praying all the way that the large semi in front of me, whose lights I was using as a guide, had a better view than I. After this bit of meteorological delight, there were the tornado funnel clouds (I kid you not) in Orange County, followed by the strangest thing: 4 hours of suddenly clear skies and complete calm as I arrived to drive the  hairpin turns dangling above crashing breakers on Route 1. And thank god for the dry spell, because it turned out that the road was blocked at numerous points by rock slides (!!!), which were in the process of being cleared by the indefatigable Cal Trans, the California Department of Transportation. (At one point though, I did have to edge around a car-sized chunk straddling the middle of the road: fortunately, the side nearest the cliff gave the most ample access. There was no way I was edging around that thing ocean side!)

In any event, I arrived at Ventana almost 7 hours later thoroughly tested and almost bested. (Let’s just say that that complimentary glass of wine the staff so kindly offers guests as they settle into a plush chair by a roaring fire didn’t go at all to waste.) Since then, it’s been almost hurricane like conditions here, alternating with brief periods of deceptively clear sky. You need to move fast though: these breaks only last a half hour or so, and are then followed by what can only be described as a rain blizzard, with howling winds, lightening, and hail measured in half-inches. Somehow, ensconced in my cozy room by the fire with a good book, it doesn’t seem to matter.

Winter lavender and Pacific Ocean blue at Ventana

Fortunately, for most of the year, the weather in Big Sur is completely  pacific, and there are some spectacular gardens to be seen in the region, especially when the area hosts the Hidden Gardens of Big Sur Garden Tour each June – a perfect opportunity to sharpen your garden invitation skills. Also, there is the not-to-be-missed Carmel Tomatofest each September, where literally hundreds of delicious varieties are gathered for tempting, testing and tasting, paired with some of the best food and wine in the region.(Don’t let the somewhat carnivalesque website fool you. This is REALLY good!)

So I’m off to San Jose tomorrow. Would I do it all again?

In a California minute.

As promised, the best of the best, and worst of the worst seed-grown vegetable list from 2009. Now remember, to some extent these ratings are subjective, and dependent on climate; when choosing varieties, you must always select cultivars that are adapted to your site and growing conditions. Take for instance, that all time American favorite tomatoes. I was just speaking today with Laurel, of Laurel’s Heirloom Tomato Plants, (a great source for live plants, by the way) asking her if she would provide me with some recommendations for San Jose, California, where I’ll be speaking next week at the South Bay Home & Garden Show.

Here’s the list she kindly put together, based on both personal input and purchaser comments:

Paul Robeson
Sunset’s Red Horizon
Clint Eastwood’s Rowdy Red
Blood Gulch
Summer Cider
Kellogg’s Breakfast
Goose Creek
Japanese Black Trifele
Mortgage Lifter
Grandpa Ashlock
Marianna’s Peace
Cherokee Green
Any Brandywine but especially Brandywine Yellow which loves San Jose’s long temperate growing season
Black Zebra and Yellow Zebra
German Giant
Marvel Striped
Isis Candy
Yellow Gooseberry
Omar’s Lebanese

'White Icicle', one of the dogs of the 2009 season

Now many of these varieties are very long season, perfect for San Jose, but somewhat problematic here in Boston. Most other crops show similar differences between one variety and another. Unfortunately, the only way to find out what’s what is to experiment, or, ask a knowledgeable gardener in your area (the second option being the far more economical. Most good nurseries as well as the invaluable Cooperative Extension Services can provide sound advice.)

One other tip garnered from last year: don’t select crops for appearance alone. I know this sounds basic, but as gardeners, we (I) fall for it all the time. If produce is cute and/or unusually colored, people flock to it in droves, never-mind how it tastes. That’s a mistake: witness my trial of the white raddish ‘White Icicle’. I’m sure 2 x 4’s have more flavor…

Also keep in mind that smaller sized varieties are great for compact gardens where fresh eating is the aim, but often smaller sized produce doesn’t have sufficient biomass for long term storage. Big fat round beets, and full sized butternut squash last far better than their more petit cousins.

Finally, I’ve already lamented enough about last year’s tomato season, and am anxious to put in, along with most of 2009, into the bin of bad memories. But, despite the late blight, two varieties actually managed to produce a decent crop last season, before dying totally away in August: ‘Red Rose’, a cross between ‘Brandywine’ and ‘Rutgers’ with the best qualities of each; and ‘Sungold’, still the best cherry in the business. Both are available from Tomato Growers Supply.

And, I almost forgot: a fantastic green to red pepper: Ace, from Johnny’s. This was the best and most abundant pepper yield I’ve ever had, and this variety is particularly adapted to northern gardeners. The flavor is average, but the yields! Rating: 5

I’ve been doing a considerable amount of research ahead of my 2010 national lecture tour, pulling together three new talks on “Greening the Victory Garden”, all about how to get started growing your own fresh food in an environmentally sensitive way. In the process, I came across this short video which I think you’ll enjoy. It amusingly chronicles the history of growing food at the White House, and why you should grow your own too:

Of course, the garden the piece advocates has since been built: the Obama’s now famous Victory Garden on the South lawn:

It’s an interesting plan, heavy on greens, but one that curiously violates a basic tenet of backyard food production: you need a fence to keep out critters.

Do you suppose the Secret Service is on rabbit patrol?

Leaf debris and overly long grass blades like these are a recipe for springtime lawn disaster.

This past September I opened my garden for a quick tour, and as the group departed I heard one of the guests comment “I wish I had a garden like Michael’s, where nothing seems to go wrong.”

While I was highly flattered – this was a group of master gardeners after all – I was very quick to assure my guests that in fact many things went wrong here, and that only difference between my garden and theirs was that as a professional gardener, I simply have much more time to correct my mistakes than other people do.

Sometimes however, Mother Nature takes a hand in hiding my errors far more effectively than I ever could – at least, temporarily.

The product of my frenzied labor: one of the many piles waiting to be removed from the orchard lawn

Take last week’s 14″ inches of snow. The day before the storm, I was sitting in the gazebo in shorts and tee-shirt, enjoying the 60º weather while I corrected a manuscript. Completely oblivious to the impending snow forecast, I blithely presumed I had ample time to do the final work needed to put the lawn to bed.  Whoops. The next morning I awoke to a land of white, and the realization that I had lost the best chance to get the last of the leaves and tree debris off the grass in the orchard. This task, seemingly mundane, is critical to the health of the turf: leaves and debris left on the grass will kill the blades beneath it, leaving you with a patchwork of dead spots next spring. It’s also important that you don’t allow the grass to go into winter too high: overly long blades crushed down by snow act just like debris, covering and killing their neighbors. The short of it is that your lawn should go into the winter with a final mowing and all debris removed.

I had botched it.

One of the handiest tools in the (late season) green gardener's arsenal: B&D's battery powered mulching mower, perfect for lawns up to 1/3 acre. I've owned one for five years and LOVE it. Click the pic above to review the product at Amazon.com.

But then came a reprieve. In typical New England fashion, the foot of snow was followed by several days in the high 40s and rain, almost entirely erasing white from the garden. So out I raced this morning with rake and wheel barrow – madly collecting debris from the snow-free areas of the lawn ahead of the wintry mix and freezing temperatures forecast for later in the day. Anyone stopping by would have thought I was crazy: huffing and puffing with a rake in late December, then running up and down with the battery powered mulching mower to set the lawn to the correct winter height (about 2″ for cold season grasses like mine) as well as to chew up any remaining leaf debris I missed in my mad dash with the rake.

It was a close call: as I returned the mower to winter storage, the first flakes were beginning to fall. I had been saved, yet again, though more through luck than good gardening practice.

So the moral of my story is this: as gardeners we all make mistakes, some remediable, some not. The key to success is to fix the those you can, and don’t sweat those you can’t. After all, one of the things that makes gardening so enjoyable is that it comes pre-packaged with an almost inexhaustible set of do-overs, and a nearly infinite supply of that most marvelous of phrases: “there’s always next spring.”

Best though, to keep both in reserve whenever possible.

Happy New Year everyone!

For those of you basking in the warm climes of the South and Southwest, the words “winter blooming” probably don’t have special significance. After all, a good portion of your plant palette flowers between September and March. So what’s special about hibernal blossoms, you ask? Well, here in the Northeast, or in the Midwest where I grew up, or for that matter, anywhere that winter temperatures regularly dip below freezing, a plant that’s brave enough to bloom through the vicissitudes of frost and rime seems downright magical. And in fact, throughout history, plants that remain not only green but growing throughout the winter months have long been ascribed mystical powers. Of these, perhaps the most famous, and most certainly my favorite, are the hellebores, otherwise known as Christmas or Lenten roses.

Few other plants have been in human cultivation longer than hellebores. Native to the mountainous Caucus region, hellebores appear very early on in Greek mythology, where the progenitor of many modern hybrids, H. Niger, was fed to the daughters of Proetus, King of Argus, to cure insanity. Nor was herb’s fame limited only to problems of the mind: hellebore was widely regarded as a bane to witches and other harmful spirits, and was considered the perfect ingredient for breaking spells and enchantments. Carried by the Romans to all parts of their empire, hellebores could until quite recently often be found in the country gardens of England and France, specifically planted right beside the door to keep evil at bay. Of course a pagan plant with such powers was quickly subsumed into Christian mythology as well; its common name, Christmas Rose, comes from the touching legend of Madelon, who accompanied the shepherds at the birth of the Christ child. Despairing of having no gift to present in the depth of winter, not even simple flowers, Madleon began to weep. An angel, taking pity on her kindly soul, led the girl from the stable, and touched the barren winter ground, where a hellebore immediately sprung up in full bloom.

Interestingly, while famous throughout antiquity and the Middle Ages for its curative powers, the hellebore’s long medicinal use has always skirted with disaster. All species of hellebores contain potent alkaloids that are fatal if consumed in high quantities. (Alexander the Great, for one, may have met his end from an overly large dose of hellebore.) Even the plant’s name signals danger: from the Greek hellein, to kill, and bora food, warning of the dire results that come from over consumption.

Fortunately, nowadays interest in hellebores bears far less risk, being entirely limited to the plants charming evergreen foliage, and it’s enchanting habit of blooming right through the snow. (Unlike many other advertised “winter bloomers” that actually flower in only mild climates, while skulking guiltily in Northern gardens until early spring, hellebores truly do bloom when they are supposed to over most of their range. Here in my zone 5B garden, flowers often arrive early in December, and continue to bloom, on and off through the drifts, right into early March.

And, to make the situation even more delightful, hybridizers have recently taken a keen interest in the clan, interbreeding species to produce an incredible host of new cultivars, most labeled with some version of Helleborus x hybridus. The flowers, which can be single or double, now come in a wide variety of colors, from white to pink to magenta, as well as pale greens, blues and spotted versions. Of particular interest are several new varieties available from Burpee’s Heronswood Nursery: ‘Kingston Cardinal,’ with mauve, fully double flowers; ‘Green Heron’ a single chartreuse; and ‘Snow Bunting’ with white petals and a green center. Many of the original species also have considerable charm; I happen, for instance, to find the strangely contorted foliage and flower of H. Foetidus pleasing quirky.

These wonderful white hellebores from Burpee flower each December; despite temperatures in the teens, they are in bloom as I write.

In terms of culture, few plants could be more obliging – if grown within very precise parameters – a warning not wisely ignored by the aspiring hellebore aficionado. Part of the problem is that culture instructions for many hellebore varieties are often insufficiently specific, and this can lead to disaster. A perfect example is a label from a hellebore I recently purchased: “moderate to partial shade, adequate moisture” is all it said. Though that sounds sufficient, it really isn’t, and explains why for years I tried to grow hellebores and failed miserably. I planted them in a shady spot as instructed, watered sufficiently, and sat back to await the grand results. And wait. And wait. While the plants didn’t quite die, they certainly didn’t thrive either. By mid-winter the foliage looked terribly ratty, and the few flowers that eventually arrived didn’t merit the decrepit look the plant held for much of the season. Then by chance I was sent some of the newer hybrid species to trial, and I decided to plant them in a particularly protected spot, away from harsh winter winds, under a large Hinoki cypress where the soil was amply moist and well amended with compost. This combination of rich soil, moisture, and winter protection proved the key, and here my hellebores have taken off, slowly expanding to carpet the entire area under the tree (aided, if truth be admitted, by the occasional purchase on my part – I often just can’t resist.)

One final caveat, although hardy into Z4, hellebores need ample snow or other protective cover to survive that far north, and there, they will bloom later in winter, hence their other common name, Lenten Rose. Also, in extreme northerly climes, the foliage does not remain evergreen. But given the right spot, these plucky little plants are remarkably enduring, and will brighten even the darkest winter corner of your traditional garden.

You may remember back in July I was proclaiming my love for boxwood. Well, here’s another  reason why you should be sure to have one or two of these wonderful shrubs around your yard. Boxwood is the perfect material to make tabletop Christmas trees like this one, just right for out of the way places and small spaces in need of a bit of holiday cheer.

Tabletop boxwood trees are very easy to build, look terrific, and make a fun family project. Best of all, they are ecologically sensitive: nothing need be cut down to make this decoration.

Here’s how you get started. You’ll need:

• Five pieces of Oasis foam (available at most florist shops and garden centers)

•Several long thin bamboo stakes. (Chopsticks work just fine).

• Some sort of waterproof basin. (I use a deep pot saucer; the slight protrusions help hold the Oasis in place.)

• A pair of sharp shears or florist scissors

• A razor knife or cooking knife to shape the Oasis

• Several pounds of boxwood clippings. (While you can buy box at most florist suppliers, it’s very expensive. ($60 a carton is not uncommon.)  For this reason, I deliberately leave several large box in the garden untrimmed until early December. If you don’t have any bushes of your own, see if you can offer some “free light winter pruning” to a friend – with the caveat that you’re sure to be careful not to remove too much from any one spot. Also: Northern and Southern gardeners take note: almost any small leaved or needled evergreen can be used in lieu of boxwood in areas where box doesn’t grow.)

Assembly couldn’t be simpler. Soak the Oasis for one hour in water, until it is thoroughly wet. (You generally need to weight it down in a bucket with something heavy as it is quite buoyant.) Once completely soaked, position the Oasis blocks as seen at the left, and secure with the bamboo stakes. Cut the corners off the top piece of Oasis to form a point. Then, starting from the bottom, begin positioning the longer pieces of boxwood around the base, being sure to turn the tree as you go to achieve a well rounded effect. Once the base is complete, start to work your way up the column, inserting progressively shorter pieces until you reach the top. (This is another reason to harvest your own box – the florist version is generally cut to a standard length, and the branches are often too short to provide a full appearance at the tree’s base.) The final product should stand about 3′ tall. When you’re finished, decorate to your heart’s content. For a truly spectacular effect, you can do what my dear friend Barbara Bergman Reese used to do for her annual Christmas party in Weston: in lieu of (or in addition to) regular Christmas ornaments, use long-stemmed roses.

Once completed (the whole process takes about an hour) your little boxwood tree will stay fresh and green for several weeks, as long as you remember to keep the Oasis column thoroughly wet. Be sure to water from the top down (taking the tree to the sink and using the spray hose works well). Add water until there is accumulation in the basin. That way the upper portions won’t dry prematurely.