Adopt a Crop update: Pickle visit

Hi.

You're still here, huh? You've managed to sit through 7 months of my bleating about pickling cucumbers and you haven't retreated into the darkness of blogland. Geez, you're hardcore.

But really, we've had a lot of good times, don't you think?

Let's reminisce with a nice bulleted list, shall we? It's how I like to do things.

• Well, first there was the choosing of the Adopt a Crop where I totally thought the butternut squash was going to win but somehow the pickling cucumbers pulled ahead at the last minute and I was PHEW so glad because whoopsy! I'm not sure I had enough room to grow butternut squash. Yeek. That would have been awkward.
  
  
• Then there was the planting of the crop. Oh my yes that was a time. Not a good time, but a time nonetheless. A time when I lost a lot of seedlings to mystery evil bugs and a time when I bailed out of the seed growing business long enough to buy a seedling from the nursery in time to see a new cucumber seedling fighting its way into the garden. My hero.
  
  
• Then there was the not dying. Which, ironically, was one of the most exciting parts of the process because it was the hardest to defeat. I'm not sure why plants' first inclination when reaching my garden is to wilt dramatically and then fake their own deaths, but the cucumbers were no different and there were times when I think they also stunted their own growth to spite me. Yes, I feel that cucumbers are vindictive and vengeful vegetables and who can really blame me? They have spines after all.
  
  
• Then there was the first cucumber on the plant. Oh my, what a moment. When the plants that had previously tried to curl up and die a quiet death while flipping me the bird suddenly perked up and started blooming incredibly prolific amounts of blooms and then also tiny fruits. And they didn't seem so mad anymore about the fact that I'd provided the hunting grounds for the bugs that had annihilated their predecessors. If only we, the human beings, could learn such forgiveness from these fruits. (I such a moon maiden)
  
  
• Then the first cucumber came OFF the plant, which was big because even when they're on the plant, they could still get chewed or decimated in one of a million tragic ways, so getting them off the plant is the key. Because then I can mother hen them in my house and begin to thumb through all the pickle recipes like a stalking psycho.
  
  
• Then there was the naming of Fluffy, which was a momentous occasion because the winner of the naming contest was none other than Decca who was also the nice woman who married Bubba and I, so this was kind of an interesting full-circle-ish kind of event that made me go awwwwwwwww inside and then laugh out loud because of the porno references. What a perfect bizarre family we make, all of us societal rejects.
  
  
• Then there was the first harvest which was sacrificed to a really unfortunate recipe that tasted like, well, a horse's ass. I have not yet had the heart to toss the victims of my first foray into pickling, but the rest of the cucumbers are safe from ever having to meet that end as I've torn out that page of the cookbook so as not to repeat that mistake. Sorry, first crop, you were the guinea pigs in this experiment and you met a distasteful end.
  
  
• And, finally, there were the pickles. Oh the glorious pickles that actually looked like the pickles in my mind. How normal they looked all squashed into their salt and dill and vinegar brine like normal pickles would be. All cozy with their one slice of bell pepper which I wanted to ignore in the recipe but got all what if it does some secret necessary thing that will destroy the pickles if omitted and left in after all. WOW. Really so fun to see something turn out right. Even if I did have to follow the recipe really closely to get these results. And they tasted good which was more surprising to me than it should have been.
  
  

See, what a ride we've had with these pickles. I haven't sung any kumbayah or anything, but I'm sure it could still happen. I drink that much.

So what to do now that the pickle's season is over and the space is about to be freed up for future planting?

Oh - sorry if you didn't realize this was also me telling you that the cucumbers have fizzled (thank you Jeph for that reference, it's really the best way to describe what they do) and are about to be unceremoniously yanked from the garden to make way for something new or maybe nothing at all, I haven't decided yet.

Anyway - I thought it would be good to go back to our roots (OMG I'M HYSTERICAL.) with this little experiment and do a little giveaway. Send some pickles on their aforementioned visit from which they will not return.

Fun, right?

So - if you voted for pickles or voted for one of the other crops (no one will hold it against you) or you've read all the posts or you're just coming upon this giveaway now because you're that kind of blog whore that just goes around entering yourself in random contests to win pickled produce - leave me a comment with your name and I will choose a winner to receive a jar of Finny's Homecanned Pickles.

Oh, you want this, do not lie to yourself.

I'll give you a bit to do this, say until 9/4, and on 9/5 I will shove all your names into a random winner chooser device and announce the winner right here.

And then we'll probably do some handing over of home addresses and things so that I can ship you your pickles and then maybe you'll not file an indictment for malicious food poisoning against me when you get botulism from my canning methods (Don't worry, I've sampled these pickles and they're perfectly safe.) and instead just really enjoy your pickles with a nice hot dog or something.

FUN.

Ok, comment away and I'll be back soon with other garden updates and on 9/5, I'll let you know who's getting a Pickle Visit.

That sounds porny. I love this game.

[UPDATE] In the interest of full disclosure, I feel like I should show you a photo of the pickles that would actually becoming for a visit:

See, the ones at the top of the post are the refrigerator pickle spears (pretty good) that I made, but since they're refrig ones and also we've opened them and eaten some, I can't, in good conscience, send them to you. What with our finger germs and what not. SO - the Pickle Visit pickles will be whole dills, properly canned and sealed without the intervention of my cootie fingers.

I hope this is OK, but if you want to back out of the random choosing, you just let me know.

That's all for general disclosures now.

Fluffy, in all his glory

It's ok. You can look. Don't be shy of my hugeness.

After my first shot at pickles, which came out very mustard-y but not altogether inedible (thank you, Bubba, for eating anything), I was determined to take a more palatable shot at pickling my cucumber crop.

I mean, sure, Bubba will eat these pickles, but will I? Probably not. Because, let's face it, they are brown and make my mouth pucker and I have been doing weird things to them like changing their brine while they sit in the fridge in an effort to bring out a more traditional pickle flavor and, alas, they're getting strange.

Not that it matters, though, since Fluffy put out another crop of Fluffies as soon as I had the previous crop relegated to the depths of the fridge. Good boy!

Some of the Fluffies are larger than others because some of them like to hide in the nasturtium until I get back from vacation.

I will say, that at least from a color standpoint, I am much more hopeful about this batch of pickles.

They are way less brown and alarming looking than the previous batch, and the recipe included dill, which for me is a must-have for pickles. Of all the recipes in my pickling book, only a few called for dill, which I find to be wrong.

I mean, who gives a corny crap about sweet pickles or pickles mixed with carrot coins and beans? Um, no one in my house, I can say that for sure. It is possible that I misspent my $8.49 on this book when it's clear that I'll be using it for maybe two pickle recipes instead of the 40-something in there.

I also don't have plans to pickle any other vegetables (although there will be tomato canning, to be sure), so the whole rest of the book after Cucumbers might as well be blank.

Then I went ahead and made an impulse purchase while at OSH of the Bell Blue Book of Preserving if for no other reason than the fact that their instructions are very clear (read: spelled out simply as though your monkey's uncle were doing the canning) and it was the only thing in the canning section that I didn't already own.

My my, has my life has changed from the time when I would buy a great top in every color at Banana Republic rather than every item in the canning section at a hardware store.

Anyway.

I feel like this book, the one with the newsprint-ish pages and lack of photography, spine printing and spellcheck (oh, the glorious grammatical errors) will probably become the water-damaged, dog-earred, woefully worn bible of my pickling life rather than the glossy, photograph-y, also totally un-spellchecked Pickled.

And while I'm on the subject, what the hell is the deal with these books making it to glossy, hard-cover printing with no evidence of editing WHATSOEVER? Good lord, it is bad. But bad in an it gives me something with which to amuse myself while the water in the canner boils, way. I'll try to find some good examples of what I mean so that we can laugh and point together.

Since I'm so grammatically correct and not making up my own language or anything right here on this blog and everything. Mmhhmm.

SO THE PICKLES are resting in their two quart sized jars and will be ready for sampling in three short weeks. Meantime, I will be peaking in on them in the cupboard because there is scant else that makes me squweeeee with retarded joy like seeing my own canned goods just sitting there on the shelf all We are ready for you in a catastrophe or power outage because look how we don't even require refrigeration and everything.

Come to think of it, I should start canning pie. You know, just in case of emergency.

Please enjoy the not-brown color and the dill in these pickles, all proper like.

Another Pickle CHiPs Winner + CORN [RECIPE]

I started to get all "AHiPs" on this post and then decided against it because even I can't keep up with my failed CHiPs analogy anymore.

It's too much, people, these stories I weave.

So, I'll put it to you this way, Ms Dig still gets her pickles, because I love her and I believe all pregnant women should have access to pickles and now, Holly does, too because Dig is very nice and also has a healthy guilty conscience and since she'd just finished winning four of the last four contests she'd entered, she was ready to give up her pickles to someone else. Because of her guilt.

Which I found to be sweet and indicative of her lovely character. And I can't take pickles away from lovely characters? What would that say about me, then?

BAD THINGS.

And I can't have y'all thinking mean things about me just all the time, now can I? No.

So - I ran the random thingy chooser again and this time it picked Holly of Life in the Shoe for a visit from the pickle chips who I've stopped addressing as Erik because it started to all get a little weird for my tastes.

Sorry, I just can't maintain these charades for so long. It cramps my brain.

BUT YAY FOR HOLLY! You win pickles, too! Just shoot me an email to finnyknits AT gmail DOT com with your mailing address and I'll ship you off your pickles to sunny AZ so that you can replenish your sodium levels after your triathlon training with some nice dilly pickle chips.

Also - I recommend fries. But that's because I'm SUCH a professional runner. Ahem. Yeah, not really.

And since I'm kinda sick of talking about pickles, chips, Erik Estrada and highway patrolmen - I'm going to stop now.

Instead - I'm going to talk about corn.

People, the corn is R.E.A.D.Y. In the, We Need To Eat it All ASAP, kind of ready.

Which is scary given we're going on vacation next week (Hey - FYI: no Finny next week - she'll be drinking cocktails at 2pm in Hawaii - yay, you're free!) and I can't trust our neighbors to actually come over and pick vegetables on their own without my semi-forceful coercing.

They're too nice and polite, these neighbors. I should train them in my rude and pushy ways.

Anyway, in an effort to de-ear as many stalks of corn as possible before we skip town for the islands, I invited some of these very polite neighbors over for Corn Feast 2009, in which we indulged in grilled corn on the cob, corn salad with tomatoes, grilled lamb chops and some other things that didn't involve corn but do go well with corn.

Sometimes you have to make compromises so that your meals make sense, I say.

I was not willing to compromise two corn dishes out of the meal, so instead we introduced lamb, which made it all make sense.

Anyway, even though I love grilled corn on the cob, the real highlight for me (aside from the lamb chops, which, YUM) was the corn salad which was originally inspired by a recipe in RealSimple, but was bastardized thusly to suit my tastes and the shit in my fridge that was pushing its way free from the crisper.

My crisper is less pushy now.

This is what my life has come to, y'all - being bullied by the crisper. It's ugly.

But this is pretty! For corn, anyway.

The Corn Salad You Must Make Right Now

Recipe adapted from Corn Salad With Feta and Walnuts, RealSimple
My changes in BOLD

Ingredients + supplies
1/2 cup toasted walnut pieces
5 cups fresh corn kernels (from 5 ears), raw
1/2 Padron pepper, seeded and thinly sliced
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
kosher salt and black pepper
1/2 cup crumbled fresh Feta
2 fresh tomatoes, picked right from the garden and chopped
Disposable rubber gloves or other hand protecting device

To make
*Indicates optional step

*Heat convection oven to 400 and burn the crap out of half a cup of walnut pieces. Discard.

Start over with another 1/2 cup of walnut pieces, this time ratcheting the temp down to 300 and standing nearby in the event of a flare-up.

Cut your corn off the cobs using Kris's method, and really, the only proper method for separating corn kernels from their cobs. Really, now.

Bubba taught me to shuck and Kris taught me to cut. It's a world of learning out there, folks.

I think this is self-explanatory.

Put on your rubber gloves and deal with chopping the pepper. Really. This is important. Because if you go chopping away on a hot pepper and then, because you're you, go to scratch your left eye or casually tap the end of your nose during a moment of introspection, without having worn gloves during the pepper chopping process, you'll spend the rest of the evening alternating ice packs, crunching Advil and basically hating your life as a swollen, throbbing, jalapeno-touching monster.

I'm just saying, those gloves are worth it. And then, just because you can, take those gloves off after handling the peppers, THROW THEM THE FUCK AWAY, and then wash your hands. Just to be careful.

Now, put all of that vegetable goodness into a big bowl, stir it up and let it sit around for at least half an hour before you serve it to anyone. The mingling is what makes it extra delicious. I promise you.

I don't know why I always take the Pre-Stir photos, but I do love them.

Plus, it'll give you time to grill some more ears (thus sharing/getting rid of more corn - you decide how you want to look at it), grill the lamb chops (HOLY GOOD) and steam those potatoes for potato salad which we'll talk about at another time but I'll tell you is an excellent excuse to introduce a new vinegar (champagne) to your regimen. But we'll talk about that another time.

Anyway, once everything is all mingly, the other corn and the lamb chops have grilled and the potato salad tossed, head out to the backyard with your third cocktail and proceed to get shitfaced drunk with your neighbors while you eat a shameful amount of corn and then some homemade strawberry shortcake brought by said neighbors.

And since no one has to drive anywhere, this entire scenario is totally acceptable.

Here's to Corn Feast 2009.

The unblurriness of this photo is a miracle. So you know.

Who's to say who's effed and who's not? Clearly, not me.

I should really be posting a tutorial for lip balm right now, I know.

It's just that the whole lip balm situation really revolves around my desire to berate the lip balm recipe havers of the Internet for putting up the most annoyingly vague and useless recipes and I can't very well do effective berating if I, myself, am not posting a useful not-vague recipe myself.

I think you'd agree.

Anyway, while I'm not vague or useless (quiet, you), I am sometimes forgetful. In the sense that I forgot the handwritten recipe I hand wrote for myself as I was mixing up this batch of lip balm (and then remixing it and remelting it and, well, you'll see when I write it up) up in Tahoe and so I can't give you the recipe right now.

Although I *could* give you the rant against the dim hippies who wrote up all the useless and vague lip balm recipes on the Internet right now. Because that part comes real easy. As you know.

So, instead of wrapping my rant around a fabulously NOT-vague or useless recipe for a lip balm you *might* use -- Melons.

More specifically - an update on the Adopt a Crop Team Melons vs Team Cucumbers situation.

Remember how I was all, "Oh Team Melons, you're totally effed" and shit, like back in July?

Who's effed now?

Er...that proclamation may have been premature.

I mean, not that one melon, even one that can grow from this:

I'm adorable.

to this:

I'm obscene.

in one week can break the cucumbers' lead or anything, but when the melons do that meanwhile the cucumbers do this:

Wait? We're cucumber plants? We'd forgotten. We were busy being pathetic losers.

it's safe to say, at least, that Team Melons is not as effed as they seemed to be back in July.

Though, it's true that I've harvested approximately 2 lbs of cucumbers so far and 0 lbs of watermelons, I'm fairly certain that the melon you see plumping up on the vine up there weighs more than 2 lbs and that cucumber plant you see rapidly shitting the bed up there is going to produce about five more minutes' worth of cucumbers before it shrivels up and gives me the finger once and for all.

So any greatness the cucumbers might have enjoyed a month ago might be wiped away in one felled twisting of a watermelon from the vine in a month or so.

OR that watermelon may meet an untimely death at the hands of a nasty creature (this happens sometimes even in the depths of suburbia where we happen to live. We call these happenings "raccoons" and I don't want to talk about it.) and Team Cucumbers could be back firmly holding the lead.

A pathetic 2 lb lead that does not put pickles in the jar, so to speak.

In the sense that it hasn't put any pickles in the jar yet. Because I canned pickles on vacation and they shriveled up into depressing little brown turds in the jar because I *might* have miscalculated our actual elevation and then I *might* have over processed them according to elevation instructions for, like, the Swiss Alps or something.

My pickles came out looking like shits floating in a jar, people, it was sad.

So, yeah, no pickles yet. And only 2 lbs of cucumbers. And 0 lbs of watermelons. And cucumber plants that look about as pathetic as you can imagine while still, somehow, remaining vaguely alive. And one watermelon plant that still hasn't produced a single viable fruit and barely any leaves.

But at least we have the craziest volunteer sunflowers ever.

12 feet tall. Who knew sunflowers could get 12 feet tall? I did not.

This bee got light headed flying to reach it.

The zoom was all the way extended to get this shot.

So, yeah, the drama continues in the garden. Melons staging a comeback, cucumbers quietly dying a tragic crispy brown death, sunflowers towering over the garden like some sort of otherworldly being where I can't prune them to make a stunning bouquet and tomatoes doing what tomatoes always do in the garden.

Go fucking bonkers.

I think if I were to really think hard about who's effed around here, I'd probably say it was me. Or the canner. Because we're both going to have to get really effing busy if we want to keep up.

It's not the worst problem to have. 

Today on Finnyknits: We learn a thing.

Once upon a time, Bubba gave me a pile of dirt. Remember?

Yeah. Me too.

And let us also remember that I got all eager beaver crazy puppy over it and, before thinking or adequately scouring the internet for information about it or heeding the warning of my knows-a-lot neighbor, I just went shoveling it merrily into my vegetable beds.

Oh.

Because I thought - OH WELL I'LL TEST THE SOIL AND THEN ALL WILL BE RIGHT WITH THE WORLD.

Sort of. Things are sort of right.

Also, things are sort of wrong.

Overall, things are meh.

Right things: The cucumbers and peppers are happy as muther fucking clams.

Happy

muther effing clams

Meh things: The tomatoes and potatoes are not.

Just whatever.

Um, those tomatoes should be a hedge by now. Whoops.

And why do we think that is, class?

Because jackass over here (that's me) took one look at the magically delicious soil test results with their "YOU DON'T NEED TO ADD A DAMN THING TO THE SOIL" readings and went, pffffffffft, we are so done here.

TOO MAGICAL

Except that I did need to add some stuff to the soil.

I mean, I thought about it, but then based on the information in the soil test kit about what pH level the vegetables liked, I just left it all alone.

I should have added some peat moss to the tomato beds to bring down the pH. That was a mistake.

So, as a result, this year's tomato harvest is looking a lot like last year's cucumber harvest - potentially sucky.


So, that thing we learn today: Tomatoes like a pH between 6-6.5 and cucumbers like a pH around 6.5-7. and mucking about with those numbers too much is bad business and results in lackluster plants who can't absorb the nutrients in the soil adequately because things are just not right for them.

PICKY BASTARDS.

No, I kid. I love the bastards very much. We'll make it just right next year.

And, there - don't say you never learned anything from Finny.

Oh! Bonus thing to learn: What does Finny do when the tomatoes are sucking ass but the cucumbers are being all LOOK OVER HERE AT US AREN'T WE CUTE?

Almost too cute to pick. ALMOST I SAID.

We pickle.

Every cucumber that comes out of the garden.

NO ONE IS SAFE.

Is it just me, or do these look like poos in there?

Pickling to fend off feelings of failure. Pickling to soothe the cries of WHAT HAPPENED I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS that I scream at the tomatoes. Pickling because that's also what I do in the summer because LO we never have enough pickles.

Do you guys eat a lot of pickles? Apparently we do. And my family does. They're the first things to disappear from the cupboard every winter and the first thing I'm chomping at the bit to get back in there.

Enough stories about pickles, though, you get it. I have cucumbers. I have made pickles. They are in the cupboard.

Also, the tomatoes and potatoes are in revolt because their soil is too alkaline wahhhhhhhhh. Except for the dirty hippie who was spared the drama in the raised beds by living in its weird spot elsewhere in the yard.

OK, that's as disjointed as I'm willing to be in one post.

Adopt a Crop update: Pickles + Fluffy

Oh yeah, you read that right - PICKLES.

Ok, technically, I haven't tried them yet since pickles don't really go with Fiber One and soy milk, but I think I'll try them this weekend and then I can report back on whether this first round tastes like a horses ass or worse.

The floaties here are the powdered mustard. Looks nasty, but they say this is what it's supposed to look like. Specifically, when the bright green cucumbers "turn light brown in color". Which they have. But still.

That looks kinda nasty.

I used Gram's Crock Pickles recipe from the Pickling cookbook I picked (oh my god forgive me I couldn't resist) up in Portland because it didn't call for sterilizing jars or any ingredients I didn't have on hand. Well, technically speaking anyway.


It called for cider vinegar, which I sorta had (I used apple cider vinegar) and quart sized jars, which I sorta had (if you put two pint jars together they make a quart) - but otherwise - totally the same recipe!

Ok, except for the fact that I used 6 cucumbers instead of 3 pounds and left out the sugar (won't the "apple" in apple cider vinegar be enough?) - but I did use all the powdered mustard it called for so who the hell knows what we'll end up with.

Meaning I could be quite ill come Monday. But we'll see!

Anyway, crop update:

The adopted crop is doing quite well. I had enough cucumbers to try my hand at fucking up a pickle recipe on Tuesday (see above) and then enough yesterday to repick the same batch for a future pickling session this weekend when I anticipate I will more closely attend to the details of a different recipe in the book. Yay!

And this big giant super producer of a cucumber plant now has a name: Fluffy.

Yes, thank you Decca for this suggestion. I am taking this in the most lewd and naughty way possible because that is what entertains me. Can't figure out why "Fluffy" is porny? Well, then you're a better and more wholesome person than I. So you know, I'm laughing right now.

Also, this weekend I'll be rescuing Wee Man from the advancing everythings because look at this poor guy:

Call. The. Police.

He's still making wee cucumbers though, which is good. Because at the rate I'm going it may take me all summer to get all the ingredients into my house at the same time so that we can properly follow recipes and have cucumbers that don't taste like a butt.

I predict, anyway. I mean, WHO KNOWS, they could be good, but judging by the color and floaty business in those jars and the fact that I used apple cider vinegar it's more likely that these pickles will be N.A.S.T.Y., but I guess we'll see. Stay tuned for barfing!


One last thing, would it be cheating to use a "Pickling Spices" packet? I may have to resort to that.

Other crop updates:

The tomatoes are getting full. Like, we have a new cluster popping out every day and we're now placing bets on which tomato will ripen first, kinda full.

I, personally, vote for this guy on the right here since he was the one looking yellowish orangeish last time and is still the most un-green of the lot. I predicted we'd have ripening tomatoes in about two to three weeks.

Bubba says, "Two or three weeks? That's bullshit. COME ON ALREADY."

Sometimes it's so clear why we're married.


The volunteer pumpkin, for which I ripped out the encroaching squash, is doing very well. He's sorta hiding what I imagine is some alarming growth by doing his growing beneath and around the basil hedge I'm cultivating.

It is possible that one day I'll go to snip some basil and LO there will be a pumpkin there. Anyway, that's what I'm hoping. What I'm also hoping is that my hand-picking of the nasty squash bugs and their grody little babies is successful at some point so that I can stop interrupting my otherwise gleeful garden time with bug smashing.

It's not that pleasant.


The midget cantaloupe is also being protected from the squash bugs with my twice daily smash-fests. Apparently a few coupling squash porn stars managed to make it through the killing of the plant, and decided to move over to the melon WHICH I DO NOT APPRECIATE. So, I've been out there a-smashin' a few times a day since then.

It takes a lot of time to be this evil while also being gentle with the beeooteeful melon you see here. With any luck he'll grow to full size (single serving size that is - about half the size of a regular cantaloupe) and we'll see more melons.

I would like that a lot. Especially given the amount of murder I've had to commit to keep these plants alive.


Here's a gentlemen with whom you may not yet be acquainted. This is my bell pepper. He is growing very fucking slowly to the point where the ugly marigolds that have grown from seed are starting to smother him. In fact, I had to bribe them to stay out of this shot so that I can macro focus on this little bud for your viewing pleasure.

I have high hopes, but I fear they are misguided.


You will recognize this as the aforementioned scary ass chard forest. It gets denser and more intimidating by the day. Which is why I crown myself Super Chard Killer and bastardizer of a million miscellaneous chard recipes. I fear that if I do not cook the chard I will be swallowed whole by the chard.


This is my big beet. I can say that with some certainty because I only have two beets that made it through the precarious seed stage to actually producing something beet-like and this is the bigger one. Thus the name, Big Beet. I would have eaten him and his Small Beet buddy last night for dinner if it weren't 100 degrees outside which made it ridiculous to even think about firing up the oven.

Soon though, and for the rest of our lives, Big Beet.


This week, what with the heat and all, the beans decided to start climbing. That's really all I have to say about the beans, except that I got all excited to see them growing and decided to throw a few more seeds along the fence.

Because I don't know when to stop.



These are the radishes I pulled this week. Some are perfect, some are retarded. Some are real small. They all went into the same big salad last night and were lost in the load of farm share spinach.

Again, feel free to remark upon my flea-beetle free radish greens. WOO! One bug I haven't inadvertently invited into my garden! Random success!


And I'm spent.

That's all I got for now. Although I do have a few more recipes hanging out that involve strawberries, homegrown cherries and buttermilk. Not all together though. That'd be too much.

No more guessing required.

I like you fearless people that guess without fear of me mocking your guesses. You're very brave since you know what a snarky bitch I am.

Brave or not, though, no one guessed right. Sorry, Charlies.

'Member that other thing I planted when the arugula went in? That thing that was supposed to restock the nitrogen in the soil and also make vegetables that I could turn into nuclear green hummus?

My roots are magic.

Yes, it's fava beans. They're blooming! Although not at the rate of my neighbor's plants, which pisses me off since her plants are about 20 feet from mine (with the fence between them), but I can't get too wrapped up in that since some magic is always going down over there anyway and I just don't have access to her magic wand all the time, so boo.

But the plants are blooming and I'm now waiting impatiently for them to start sprouting pods so that I can get to eating the tender little nuggets inside as though I've loved them all my life, even though I only met them last year.

I'll be awesome. You just watch.

We won't tell them that I threw out/composted two bags worth before I figured out how to eat them, OK? Forgive me. I was not wise in the ways of fava back then and I have some shame about it.

OH WELL. New day and all...

So, the favas are blooming and hopefully making future pods so that I can make future hummus and then rip the plants from the ground to make room for one of the beds of tomatoes.

Because you know I'm going to have TWO beds of tomatoes this year. That's FOUR plants. That's DOUBLE the amount of tomatoes I've ever had in a season. Big times, again, big times.

Also, the daffodils are doing a good job trying to pretend it's spring in February and I think you should see this.

We're wicked cute.

And now I don't have any guessing games left to play. But, you do have a few more days to vote on Adopt a Crop 2009 before I crush 3/4 of you with the winner. And right now the Lemon Cucumbers are winning because you're crazy and want me to make pickles again as though you didn't get enough last year.

Hey, fine by me, I actually might know how to make pickle chips at this point and HEY! thanks to my sister I realized that I do have a chopping mechanism in my possession that can make the pickles into chips. WEE! For a while there, I thought I'd have to cut them by hand or else risk losing that hand by using my POS mandoline THAT I HATE no matter what Cook's Illustrated says, to get the pickles into chip form.

Thankfully my sister knows the inventory of my kitchen and also that my food processor came with a device that will make chips from cucumbers. She's a smartie, that girl with her double masters.

SO - go vote on your crop of choice and I'll come back soon with the final tally so we can get to planting. Last frost date around here is Sunday. WOO!

Fuck you, frost. You're SO five minutes ago.

Adopt a Crop 2009

No, it's not too soon, people.

The cherry trees are blooming and I saw a daffodil this morning so it must be time to order seeds and get going on the vegetables for 2009.


(Also, WOO! I saw cherry trees blooming and I LOVE cherry blossoms and I squeeeeee like a little fruity girl when I see them which Bubba totally loves! Maybe.)

And, no, I haven't had any fava beans from the winter garden yet BUT THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT. What's important is that we get the empty garden section all adopted out so that I can begin adequately stressing out about starting seedlings, amending soil, turning compost, fixing irrigation, praying for rain and just generally losing my mind with regard to produce.

You remember this process. My crazy is not new.

Last year the Adopted Crop was pickling cucumbers (good job) and the goal was go to from seed to jar of pickles and then send the jar of pickles on a visit to one lucky Adopt a Cropper. And since that worked out so well (Minus certain attempts at pickling that came out like sour mustardy poo. Wow. That was gross.), I thought I'd adopt out this year's crop with the visitability (new word alert!) of the end product in mind.

SO - each of this year's choices have shippable end products which I will include in the choosing/adopting description so that you can do your adopting based on how much you'd really want to visit with its final state.

I mean, who knows, Winner 2008 might have really wanted pico de gallo instead of pickles but how would she have ever known?? Ok, it was obvious last year, but still.

And if you need a refresher or didn't play along last year, here's how you play Adopt a Crop:

Choose from the list of vegs below and then I do all the work to make your choice turn into food.

All you have to do while I'm sweating it out in the garden trying to make this whole seed to food thing happen is sit back and laugh at my tight hamstrings and sombrero (do not mess with the sun, people, he is not fucking around).

And in the end, the only thing you're really adopting is, potentially, the veg as its final product, which I will describe shortly.

Shortly's here!

Bicolor Cherry Tomatoes could become a canned Bicolor Tomato Sauce.

Black "Carbon" Tomatoes (standard size) could become Scary Salsa.

Lemon Cucumbers could become Pickle Chips.

Tricolor Basil could become Tricolor Pesto.

Which crop would you adopt?
	Bicolor Cherry Tomatoes/Cherry tomato sauce
	Carbon (black) Tomatoes/Scary salsa
	Lemon Cucumbers/Pickle chips
	Tricolor Basil/Pesto
Free polls from Pollhost.com

So, choose away! You have until 3/1 to place your votes, which, coincidentally, is our last frost date here in merry San Jose. Love it here!

Then you can all begin the ritualistic finger-crossing that is my favorite gardening tactic. (Companion gardening and neem oil, pfffffft!)

Ooh, and I can't wait to introduce you to some of the other new garden faces around here. Clues: They produce food (duh), they don't live in the raised beds, they aren't vegetables.

Voting and guessing in the same post? Perhaps Spring Fever has arrived early.