August 2011



DaisyPatch Farm

As I mentioned here, Mr. Potatohead, our patron saint of potatoes, will be modeling each variety of potatoes we grew this year. Behold, Cranberry Red potatoes.

Yes, he is sitting in cranberry sauce.

Credits:

Producer: Jenn Gorius Gosselin, DaisyPatch Farm

Co-Producer: Erica McAllister

Costuming: Jenn Gorius Gosselin, Erica McAllister

Photography: Erica McAllister, Jenn Gorius Gosselin

Lighting: Jenn Gorius Gosselin, Erica McAllister


Someone posted Keith’s photo as their own.  Here’s the original  and here’s the stolen photo. Bastard. That’s all I can say. Gratefully, some people came to my defense, found the original photo on our site and gave us credit. 

What I find fascinating is that it caused over 1700 hits on our site in one day. And several more subscribers. Um, I am not sure if this is a good thing. I will need to wait and see. When it comes to stealing someone else’s photos off the internet, JUST SAY NO.


My spotty tomato haiku…ahem…

Spotty tomatoes

It’s kind of embarrassing

Damn f’ing fungus

Yup, that’s a decent pile of tomatoes for the first harvest. Look closely at the striped romas. They not lookin’ so hot. The lower half of each plant is just about dead. The spots have spread to the ‘maters as you can see. We’ve made the decision to not grow tomatoes next year. At all. Get rid of the fungus that is buried deep in the soil, possessing it like a demon, coming to the surface on hot, humid days. So, we’re going to jar as many of these as we can (we’ve read up, the spotty tomatoes are fine to eat, but we’re going to cook them anyway. You know, boil off the evil.)

Meanwhile, we’ll deal with the counter (and windowsill and sink…) full of spotty ‘maters. Evil, possessed, spotty ‘maters. Damn it.



DaisyPatch Farm.  Mr. Potatohead (our patron Saint of potatoes) has decided to model each variety of the potatoes we grew this year. Our niece, Erica (@EmikoRay on Twitter and blogging at http://ericamcllstr.blog.com/ ) helped with the production.

Behold, Russian Banana Fingerling Potatoes (we found the texture to be very creamy. Excellent for homefries!)

Credits:

Producer: Jenn Gorius Gosselin, DaisyPatch Farm

Co-Producer: Erica McAllister

Costuming: Jenn Gorius Gosselin, Erica McAllister

Photography: Erica McAllister, Jenn Gorius Gosselin

Lighting: Jenn Gorius Gosselin, Erica McAllister


I just made bruschetta and want to share the recipe. Before we go there, however, we need a lesson on how to pronounce, “bruschetta.” I used to say “BROO-shett-uh.”  That is incorrect. After ordering a delish rendition of bruschetta at Dolce Vita in Boston’s North End, I have learned to say it correctly. (If you get the chance to go there, GO! Franco rocks, and sings to the crowd. Much fun to be had by all!) 

Ready? Here we go…”Br(roll that ‘r’)oo-SKETT-tuh.” Now, kiss all your fingertips (and thumbtip, is that considered a finger in an example such as this? I think it is, but, whatever, all five of them) at the same time, then pull your hand away and flare your fingers out into a jazz hand. This is a terrible, stereotypical gesture I have learned from movies and television and I use it here without shame.

So, here is the DaisyPatch version of the Dolce Vita bruschetta.

1 loaf Italian bread (I bought a fresh loaf that was soft. You can buy the crusty kind (is that French? Well THAT won’t work. This is an Italian recipe) but I avoid the crusty kind because it shreds the roof of my mouth. Like Captain Crunch. Ouch. That stuff was painful. How did that get on the market in the first place, I ask you? That cereal inflicted injury. Did I digress?) Slice and then toast in the broiler until just lightly browned (too brown and we’ll get that shredded roof of the mouth thing again.)

1 clove garlic, minced

3-4 tomatoes, chopped

1/2 cup fresh basil – chopped

1 tbsp fresh thyme – removed from the stem

1 shallot (or a teensy red onion), chopped

1/2 cup balsamic vinegar

2 tbsp olive oil

coarse salt

fresh ground pepper

*Note- I don’t measure. I completely eyeballed it, but I think that looks about right.

Mix the garlic, tomatoes, shallot, basil, thyme in a bowl. Add olive oil. Let sit.

Reduce the balsamic vinegar in a pan over the stove until it starts to look thick. Cool. It will get a bit thicker as it cools. You want it thick like honey.

When you are ready to serve, put the veggie mixings on the toasted bread, salt and pepper to taste.  Drizzle with a little balsamic. Serve it up.

And say it with me. Bruschetta. (Don’t forget the hand gesture – kiss, pull, jazz). Molto bene.

(Author note: I am exceptionally proud of these. All veggies and herbs were ours. And they were delicioso.)


I just added RSS (Really Simple Syndication) in the right hand column of my site so you can stay up to date on new posts and comments via RSS, or by email (or just by visiting the site daily because you love it so much!) Your choice. I’m unsure what took me so long. Oh, I know, I was in the garden. It was Really Simple (awful, awful attempt at a play on words. I’m ashamed of it, actually). (Yet, still did it, what does that say?) Have a great weekend.

Stay tuned, we’ll be harvesting potatoes this weekend and Mr. Potatohead is coming back for a guest appearance.


Welcome to sex ed. Of course, as soon as I say, “Sex Ed” in my mind, I flash back immediately to…you’ll never guess (unless we went to high school together, and, if we did, you’re thinking the same thing I am) Mr. Hummer’s sex ed class. Yup. The kids called him Hummer. I think his last name was Holmes. He looked like Terry Bradshaw, but with less hair.

He was the school wrestling coach and always wore gym clothes to class. He was a goofy guy who somehow, got the job of teaching sex ed. 

Anyhoo, back from memory lane, it is time for sex ed on the DaisyPatch. Gather ’round kids. I may require permission slips for this one, it gets a bit graphic.

These pumpkins continue to amaze me. I will measure to be sure (the PUMPKINS, I will measure the PUMPKINS, get your minds out of the gutter!), but it looks like the vines are over 10 feet long. There’s also an errant compost pile pumpkin. How did I throw one away? Keith thinks that a seed might have taken root from some of our judicious composting. I like that theory. More random surprises in the patch to marvel at. I was thinking about relocating it, but I’m unsure how to dig it up because it’s roots start at the bottom of the little hill I throw the compost down into. No muck boot tall enough is going to protect me from that gore if I were to try to scramble down and dig it up. I might leave it there for an experiment. Which does better?  The bat-shit, Tiger-Bloom, Sex-Panther-fertilized pumpkins (i.e. purchased fertilizer) OR the rotten-leftover, garden-scrap, grass-clipping-fertilized compost pumpkins. We shall see. (5 points if you caught the Anchorman reference. “60% of the time it works every time.”)

Anyway, where were we? Right, sex ed. Yeah, so, Mr. DaisyPatch has been doing some reading on what to expect from (and how to fertilize – see above) giant pumpkins. He found out there are male and female flowers. Huh? I mean, I took biology and I know that, if you don’t buy self-pollinating fruit trees, you have to make sure you get male and female (right? Ok, I just had to look that up to be sure so I didn’t sound like an idiot. Yes, some trees are just male and others are just female. Thanks to an eHow article by Danielle Hill, “Dioecious plants are those species that have male and female flowers on separate plants. By contrast, monoecious species may have male and female flowers growing off a single plant. For reproduction to occur, one dioecious plant must be growing close to another plant of the opposite sex. Read more here.) and the same with holly bushes to get the red berries, however, this surprised me. I don’t recall any other veggies having the anomaly. It might be the case, but, well, I wasn’t aware of it. (And, if I’m going to be brutally honest here, I have no f’ing desire to read about the sex life of plants. I mean, could anything be more BORING?) (Wait! I did just go and read about the sex life of plants! Shit…)

Apparently, the female flowers have, well, a bulbous sort of…ahem…thing under the flower. That is the baby pumpkin.

The male flowers (below) need to pollinate the female flowers in order for the baby pumpkin to grow.

Otherwise, after the female flower falls off and dies, that baby pumpkin on the vine will wither and die as well instead of continuing to grow into a jack-o-lantern. Here’s the fun part for the gardener. Ready?

If you don’t have honey bees to do the pollinating, you gotta get out there and do it yourself. With your hands. Smearing the male parts onto the female parts (how would Mr. Hummer have worded this? I can tell you that a similar act was described by him in sex ed class and I am STILL shuddering in horror and NOW it is happening in my pumpkin patch? I need to go to church and be washed of these thoughts. My mind is wandering now to a gritty pumpkin porn with a bad plot line and poor lighting. I am SO having nightmares tonight.)

So there it is. Pumpkin sex. Happening out in our yard, under our very noses. I am so grateful for honey bees. So grateful.


 

Those who dwell among the beauties and mysteries of the earth are never alone or weary of life. ~Rachel Carson

Here’s the Patch in Pictures…August edition.


Talk about cukes! We’ve grown pickling cukes before, but not these regular ones. We have 6 plants growing up a vertical trellis. I’ve harvested 6 cukes so far and can count at least 15 more on the plants. My favorite recipe is pretty easy:

Make the dressing first. Put about 2 cups white vinegar, 1/2 cup white sugar and a pinch of paprika into a sauce pan. Boil (it’ll burn your nose, trust me) until the consistency is like a thin maple syrup. Cool in the fridge where it will thicken up. It will be a nice mix of sweet and tangy with a tiny lingering heat of the paprika.

Cut cucumbers into 1 inch chunks. Cut tomatoes into one inch chunks. (You know, about the same amount of each.) When the dressing is completely cool, mix some into the tomato/cukes until just dressed (don’t drown!) Serve immediately. It isn’t really that great the next day.

Enjoy!

Next Page »