Husk Cherries

Lots of Husk Cherries

Garlic Chives and lots of bees

Acorn Squash

Hanging in the sun

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.


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.


For the last few posts, I have been teasing you about some freaky bird-chicken-hawk-foghorn-leghorn-falcony-owl thing that Keith has been watching in the backyard and a philosphical discussion about what actually defines “edible”. Well, get up off those pins and needles you’ve been sitting on, here we go.

A few weeks ago, my main squeeze, the love of my life, (and my personal chef! Bless him. I requested Beef Stroganoff tonight. Guess what smells SOOO good as I type this? Yup. You may begin your jealousy…NOW) saw a large bird in the backyard, behind the gardens, sort of hanging out in the brush (or is it “scrub”? You know. There.) Here’s a reenactment of the conversation that occurred when he showed me the picture.


Him: What do you think it is?

Me: That’s a falcon I think.

Him: I think it could be an owl.

Me: I don’t know. Zoom in. Nah, that’s a hawk or a falcon or something. Look at the tail. Can you zoom in some more?

Him: Look at the face, that looks like an owl.


Me: It’s a ChickenHawk. Boy, I say, Boy. That’s a ChickenHawk (in my best Foghorn Leghorn).

Him: Maybe it is a hawk. See that beak?

(Ok, now we’re getting real Audobon Society over here now…)

Me: (Thinking I am hilarious with my whole Foghorn Leghorn imitation of the conversation he had with Henery (spelled correctly, thank you Google!) Hawk.) Boy, I say Boy…

Him: (Searching the web and ignoring me. Shows me a picture.) Well, this one looks like it, but the tail’s not right.

Me: That’s what I’ve been – I say, that’s what I’ve been telling you, boy!

Him: I found it. This is definitely it. It’s a Cooper’s Hawk. Check it out. It’s got the face of an owl, but that beak and tail like what was in the back yard.

Me: (Noting that my antics were just not getting any attention, decided to give up on immitating Foghorn Leghorn.) (Ok, it was because, quite frankly, I couldn’t remember any more quotes and I had said, ‘Boy, I say, Boy’ so many times, I was irritating myself.) Think he’s eating the moles out there?

(Yes, that is the entire story, worth waiting for, huh? Stick with me, there’s much more where this came from…)


I think the newest definition of edible will have to wait until next time.  (Although, I will tell you, I know for a fact that his Beef Stroganoff is edible. Ok, that sounded risque’. I mean the dish on the stove, you silly goose!)

My Homemade Pizza Haiku…ahem…

A kick-ass pizza

Made with veggies from the Patch

And some artichokes


Pizza dough

Can of artichoke hearts

2 heads of garlic


goat cheese

balsamic vinegar

Roast the garlic bulbs (cut the tops off, drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper and roast in the oven at 350 for 45 minutes until fork-tender). Put one aside to nibble from while you’re making the rest of the pizza. Squish out the garlic from the other once once it’s cooled and mash with a fork.

Take the pizza dough out of the package (I know, I know, we could discuss the merits of making your own pizza dough right here, but c’mon, get real. We don’t grow wheat. I mean, we could mix some flour and water together, stick it on the window sill to ferment, thus creating our own yeast base but by the time we’ve harvested and ground the wheat and grew some yeast, I would have killed a litter of small puppies and eaten them raw out of hunger, so let’s just go with the convenience of store-bought dough, m’kay?) Oil the pizza pan and stretch the dough out on the pan.

Slice up the tomatoes, drain and slice the artichokes.  Scatter on top of the pizza dough. Crumble up the goat cheese and sprinkle it on top. Eat some goat cheese, you know, to make sure it’s ok.

Put it in the oven and bake that baby for 8-10 minutes…

(He made the pizza, so I’ve been checking on the steps he took…here’s what happened next…)

Me: Wait – Keith, honey, how hot was the oven.

Him: Hot.

Me: Yeah, but how hot? I’m putting in a recipe.

Him: Oh, 500

Him: Wait! Make it 485. Be different.

Boil down the balsamic vinegar until it is a syrup while the pizza is baking. Cool it. (The syrup. You’re fine.)

When it is done, take it out, drizzle on the vinegar, cut it and, then you can do what I did and make it pose for photos.

Ooh, artsy!


Ok, time to be honest here. In order to do what I did, you could read the text on your phone requesting you pick up artichokes, stop at the store and pick up a can of artichokes, arrive home with said artichokes, then wait patiently while someone else makes this delicious dish. Once the pie has been removed from the oven, you then make the garlicky-breath-owning chef wait while you pose the pizza in several different ways and take pictures, first without a flash, then with a flash, then try to get artsy by just pulling out once slice ever so carefully and taking more photos, first without a flash, then with a flash until you are finally reminded that the pizza is getting cool and that you’ve probably taken enough photos of said pizza and it was time to eat.


My hot pepper haiku…ahem…

Spicy hot peppers

Must be careful when picking

Lest you touch your nose

I did that this morning. I picked all the ripe hot peppers and then wiped the tiniest drip coming from my nose in the chilly morning. Oh the sting. It’s been close to 2 hours and it won’t stop. I’ve heard that bread or milk helps get rid of hot pepper burn in your mouth, I’m wondering if I should snuff up some unsalted butter (we’re out of milk, hey, that’s dairy, right?) or just stuff a crouton up there (alas, no bread, the cupboard is bare.) I kept using a paper towel with cool water to wipe it, but it wasn’t helping and, quite honestly, making it drip more. So then I thought, “Maybe the snot is trying to help. Just leave it and it’ll flush out.” So now I’m sort of catching the snot drips with the wet paper towel and trying to not get snot on the computer. I live such a glamorous life, c’mon, who wants to switch places? (If you do, please bring bread, milk and tissues when you come over. We’re out.)

 During this adventure of learning how to farm and documenting it online, I’ve had to learn how to photograph food. I’ve experimented with 2 digital cameras – neither I know how to use very well (instructions? We don’t need no stinking instructions!) I’ve taken pictures of the veggies in the ground, in pots, I’ve put them on plates, platters, in bowls, on the counter, my hand, all in an effort to “capture the moment.”

This morning, I picked hot peppers. Many hot peppers. Here they are on the counter. The orange ones are called Bulgarian Carrot. According to Local Harvest these are an heirloom variety of pepper, open pollenated from Bulgaria. The fluorescent orange, carrot-shaped fruits have an excellent flavor – hot and fruity. They are not for the meek, about a 7 on a 10 scale.  Apparently, they’re perfect for chutneys and salsas and grow well in the North.  

The red ones are Indian Pepper PC-1. Again, thanks Local Harvest, these are also called Naga Jolokia.  The PC-1 has a different flavor profile which makes it a perfect addition to a variety of cooking styles. Great used with Mexican, Thai, Oriental or Indian dishes. The PC1- is a very tasty and versatile pepper. This is a must have pepper for your collection. C. annuum. 90 days. Said to be one of the world’s hottest peppers, from India ranging apr 100,000 scovilles. The plant bears orange-red peppers, 2″ long by 1/2″ wide, growing horizontally on the plant. (DaisyPatch  note: they didn’t grow horozontally, they grew straight up.)

Here’s my attempt at getting artsy-fartsy with my photography. I’m such a hack.

I can give you my opinion of these peppers because I have such a tuned palate. First, the Bulgarian Carrot: I have no idea. Now, the PC-1: Beats me.

As my nose continues to drip and burn, I am easily reminded WHY I have no idea what these peppers taste like. I don’t like painful food. Keith could happily crunch these hot peppers raw without shedding a tear. The fridge door is dedicated to the hot sauces that, not only does he know the difference between, he actually uses on his food and sometimes on mine. At the beginning of our cohabitation, I always took the first taste of dinner with quite a bit of trepidation until he figured out which heat levels I would like (somewhere between “NONE” and “NONE.”)  As the years went by, something happened to my taste buds. They got more used to spice.  I still won’t side-dress with a splash from the bottle of, “Da Bomb Beyond Insanity sauce” (you know the one, it has the nuclear symbol on the side? That one.) but do not mind a bit of heat from time to time. His Jamaican Jerk Chicken is incredible, for instance.

Anyway, back to photography, I’m starting to get the hang of it. What you don’t see is the behind the scenes propping that takes place to get the pictures perfect. So, I thought I’d take you behind the scenes of Daisy Patch Farm Photography to show you my painstaking process of artfully arranging the food items and capturing edible still life.


Click the picture