Early Summer Garden 2019

Though the weather is cooler than the recent Official Canicule (heat wave), it's still HOT. Therefore I am watering the garden daily in the early morning and seeking refuge under the pergola along with a hanging basket of multi-hued lobelia or in our house. Your house you say? Yes, it stays cool because of our keeping to the recommended protocol for stone houses: keep both shutters and windows closed during the day but at night while keeping the shutters closed, open the windows.

The delicate blooms of lobelia present themselves as a flurry of stars or fireflies or dust motes in a sun beam depending upon flights of imagination. They flutter overhead as we recline in lounge chairs made even more cushiony with throw pillows. That basket was gifted to me more a quarter of century ago, tagged along with us from country to country, until this spring when I noted there was a suitable hook already securely fixed to one of the pergola overhead beams which jogged my memory of the basket, now covered with cobwebs in the sous sol and sans the original chains. I went ahead and sowed shade-loving lobelia indoors late winter thinking I could make do with cord instead of chains. The material I used broke, the rope The Calm One then strung up didn't, but he thought that it would eventually break so he trotted off to the local DIY place and got some chains. It was worth every bit of trouble as it is just sublime to see.

After preparing a bed for sowing carrots, I rushed to the pergola for some relief, removing my hat to let the breeze have its way with my hair, and sipped some iced coffee.

Across the way, sitting on the uncovered part of the patio, is a pot of black-eyed Susan vine (Thunbergia alata) and a bordeaux-red ivy geranium which is waiting to be placed out in the front garden when it has filled out enough.

Down the central path, on the right, is the sprawling blackberry bush. It needed to be staked and now the berries are no longer brushing the grass so they won't rot or get mowed down before I can pick them. I see a blackberry roly poly⁠—shortcake dough brushed with butter and spread with sugared berries, rolled up, topped with more berries, baked, and served with whipped cream⁠—in its future.

The strawberry patch has slowed down considerably but is still putting out a dessert bowl of berries weekly.

Daylilies are called that because each bloom lasts just a day, but look at the number of buds! This variety's name is El Desperado. It has golden yellow flowers with a burgundy centre and edge.

Another daylily, a potted Stella de Oro which is a reblooming variety, is keeping an equally golden Thunbergia alata company on a double sous sol window sill. It's good they both can take on a full frontal sun, because that window faces south. The tuteur is one of the old dried seed pods stuck on sticks that we found stored in a wood cupboard under the indoors barbecue. If that hanging basket can be brought to life, so can these sticks!

The hydrangea on the other hand is tucked in the front garden which faces north. It's just as happy as its sun-loving peers. I appreciate that aspect of gardening so much, that is, finding the right place so each plant can thrive.

Another golden sun worshiper is this rose.

À la prochaine!

Summer Is Right Around The Corner . . .

In about a week, it will be officially summer. There has been consistent rains for the last month which has delayed garden tasks that would have been best done before June such as sowing annual flowers like varied-coloured, long-term-flowering cosmos and zinnias; the last of the edible crops, graceful, stylish Tuscan kale with its smoky green-black leaves; fast-growing cover crops like mustard and tansy to revive the completely harvested pea beds (they provided about 5 litres of pods!). Hopefully, if we can believe the forecast, the next week will be sunny and the soggy soil should be workable fairly soon so those postponed tasks can be eventually completed. Regardless, the garden is humming along, with beloved-by-the bees, aromatic lavender, punchy poppies that reseed themselves through the years, and haughty Queen Elizabeth roses.

The potato variety, Daifla, flowers profusely. (That's the raspberry patch in the background, and if you look closely you will see the berries.) Potato blooms signify that the tubers are being formed. In about two months, when the haulms (the growth above ground) have wilted yellow, it will be time to harvest.

The dark green of ivy makes a good backdrop for rhubarb and potatoes. In the upper left, a drooping branch of a Mirabelle plum tree can be seen with its immature fruit looking like green olives. When ripe, they will be a glorious gold flushed with red.

Most of our potato blooms are pure white but there are a few which are tinted mauve. An interesting aside is that Marie Antoinette, a passionate lover of flowers, was known to have tucked some potato blossoms in her hair during the time Antoine Parmentier was trying to convince the movers and shakers that the New World upstart wasn't poisonous. 

Every other day, there's enough raspberries, strawberries, and blueberries to fill up the dessert bowl. Since blueberries must have acid soil to flourish, our bush is grown in a pot with the desired potting mix.

The rambunctious wild area which harbours lizards, hedgehogs, birds, and insects is festooned with bramble blossoms. The middle bed is filled with bushy Roma tomato plants and in front of them are beets which since have seen the trusty cultivator tool which has cleared away the prolific clover.

During a month these well-established daylilies put out many blooms, each lasting just a day. There are cultivars which are everblooming from early summer to autumn which will soon find a place in our garden.

David Austin climbing rose, Falstaff, is beginning a second round of flowering.

In the front garden, yet more lavender and also Shasta daisies are just starting to bloom. The other day, our neighbour across the street told me that she loves seeing, as does her visitors, the small green haven in front of our home. After all this time, it is known by a few that je jardine comme une folle (I garden like a madwoman). The English lavender is putting on the show right now while the late-blooming French lavender waits to take the spotlight in about a month.

From the vantage point of a reclining, cushy chair under the pergola, this is what I get to see: foliage of mums, rose of Sharon, calla lilies, ivy, two enormous, neighbouring spruce trees, and the imperious blooms of a Queen Elizabeth rose. All of this exuberant growth exists in an urban space. Though I can hear the distant din of traffic, I pretend that it's the sound of ocean waves.

À la prochaine!

Heat Wave Smoothie!

Temperatures are staying high, around 40 degrees C/100 degrees F. Thank goodness for thick stone walls, terracotta roofing tiles, and window shutters. Daily watering is required so the potager behind the house gets drenched in the mornings and the front/side gardens are soaked in the evening. Hand watering is opted instead of sprinklers because there is less wastage plus I can determine which plant needs how much. Calla lilies and fruiting stock receive a lot. Lavender and Rose of Sharon are drought-resistant so not a drop for them.

Iris foliage, potato, and tomato beds

Blackberries are ripening. Enough were harvested to make a smoothie!

Making a bee-line for the cool sous-sol, I passed one of the ivy-covered pillars supporting the pergola and noted this golden leaf amidst the green. Though lovely, it could be a sign of heat stress.

Like many in our quartier, I remain in the house during the rise of sweltering heat as the day unfolds. It's a good 10 degrees cooler there, and in the sous-sol, even more. But still, much better not to turn on the oven or use the stove if possible. Using a stick-mixer, I blended the blackberries picked earlier along with almond meal, a very ripe banana, lemon juice, yogurt, and some ice-cold water. The mixture was sieved and then quaffed down.

In the late evening, I ventured out to water the front and side gardens. Besides hauling hoses and watering cans, I needed to take care of a trembling house sparrow fledgling that was on the hot concrete path underneath the eaves where many nests are tucked away. Sliding a paper towel under the fluffy one, I took it to a shady spot to check for injuries (since birds have no sense of smell, the parents will never know that I touched their offspring). As far as I could make out, its wings could spread out to flutter, and its feet were in working order. The trembling had stopped. It was then carried over to some bushes near its suspected nest and placed under them. Hopefully everything worked out for that avian family. House sparrows have around four clutches in succession during the season which keeps the Mom occupied at home. Hence it usually is the Dad who brings food to the little ones on the ground while they strengthen their wings by flapping them and hopping about. And the heat is a stressor for them so keep those bird baths full, clean, and cool (freeze water in a bowl, place in bath, and as the ice melts, it refills and freshens).

Rock, lavender, Shasta daisies, abelia, and purple plum tree

A pot of dahlias is starting to put out blooms. Several months ago, once the weather was warm enough, two tubers were place in a medium-sized pot filled halfway with loosely packed potting mix which was kept slightly moist since they easily rot. As stems shot up, more mix was added.

Where there are flowers, there are pollinators.

The garden on the west side of the house, and where the baby sparrow was put, boasts of a nice clump of daylilies.

They put out many stems with a lot of buds. Each flower lasts just a day, hence their name.

One more bloom to go!

The Desperado variety wows. I love the delicate, maroon edging.

À la prochaine!

Baby Beet Greens, Peas, Garlic, Parmesan Farfalle

The Calm One was out shopping for pasta he uses in his three pasta/three cheeses mac 'n cheese: penne, corkscrews, and pipes. Reaching for a box, he saw that it was already opened. So he reached for another, and that one also was unsealed. So he wriggled his long arms even higher, so high that when he grappled with a hopefully sealed package, he heard a crash on the other side of the aisle. Chastened, he hastily put it in the cart and after noting that the closure was intact, made a speedy getaway. And that is how we get to try new things. As the pasta was farfalle.

Rise, O steam!

Harvesting peas is a Goldilocks endeavour. The pod needs to be plump, but not so much that every molecule of air is replaced with pea. In other words, the pod should not be completely rigid but still a bit pliant.

Peas over a certain size will not be as sweet. The perfect pea placement is when they are just touching each other.

Beet seed naturally forms clusters so no matter how carefully it is sowed, there will be an opportunity to harvest baby beet greens by thinning, leaving about 10 cm (four inches) between beets so the rest can develop into ruby beauties.

I prefer young and even older beet greens to spinach in terms of taste and texture

Ingredients are in bold. For one serving, put a couple of fistfuls of farfalle in boiling water. Contrary to traditional advice, use just the amount of water to cover as giving the pasta the room to swim does not do anything necessary and takes more time to bring to a boil, plus a more flavoured water makes a better sauce. Cook for ten minutes. Toss in a handful of shelled fresh peas. Simmer for a few minutes or until the peas and pasta are mostly done as their cooking will continue in the sauce. Keep a few tablespoons of cooking water aside. Drain and reserve. In the same pot, saute a minced garlic clove over low heat in a tablespoon of olive oil for about a minute or until fragrant. No browning please! Toss in a handful of chopped baby beet greens. Stir until tender, just a few minutes. Add the pasta water or in my case a combo of pasta water and chicken stock. Stir in the pasta and peas, coating them with the sauce. Simmer until most of the liquid has evaporated. If the peas and pasta are getting overcooked, pour out any remaining liquid and give the dish a final stir over the heat. Salt to taste and serve with freshly grated Parmesan and freshly milled black pepper. I thoroughly enjoyed scoffing it down as it tasted FRESH! Thank goodness for the potager.

You are looking for a glazing effect not a soupy one

Lavender out in the front garden fills the air with its fragrance.

A pollinator busy at work.

Though expansive garden vistas are lovely, I tend to gravitate towards a peekaboo perspective giving a layered view: Queen Elizabeth rose, a veggie bed, and lavender.

There are not many strawberries left to harvest, but luscious raspberries make up for the slack. Most days there are enough for a morning feast with cereal or for dessert or for a late night snack.

The first daylily opened a bud the other day. Each day there will be new flowers hence their name.

One of our five plants

À la prochaine!

Culinary Experiment: All I got Was Aligot & It Was Enough!

Many a moon, I have been musing about making aligot. Consisting of potatoes, butter,  crème fraîche, and cheese, it's a redolent-with-garlic speciality from the L'Aubrac region in southern France. If there is one dish whose taste and texture comes together in perfect harmony, it's aligot.

Not quite mashed potatoes, not quite a fondue

An early-season potato, Artemis, recently gave a decent harvest. Because its moisture content is moderate, this all-purpose variety is suitable for most recipes.

Freshly harvested taters smell so good!

As usual, a few got damaged when being removed from the soil. Since they couldn't be stored, the undamaged bits were set aside for making a test batch of aligot.

Cook four, peeled medium potatoes (about 500 grams/17.6 dry ounces) until fork-tender. Drain and then dry them by shaking the pan over low heat for a minute or so. Remove, rice, and reserve the potatoes. While ricing, heat one tablespoon of butter and one heaping tablespoon of crème fraîche in the same pot. Toss in a smashed, peeled garlic clove and simmer for a few minutes. Remove garlic. Add the riced potatoes. Beat with a wooden spoon until fluffy, about a minute. Stir in gradually via four increments a total of 237 ml/eight fluid ounces of grated cheese. Some recipes called for a much greater amount of cheese which I suspect would make the texture even more satiny. So add more if desired. Cheddar worked a treat in mine, but French cheeses like Cantal or Laguiole would be great choices.

Salt to taste (mine didn't need any). Beat until stretchy, shiny, and smooth.

Yes, that is a fork. Only because it wasn't possible to inhale the aligot and still live. Otherwise, I would have! Traditionally aligot is served with Toulouse sausages or roast pork. However I can't think of many things that wouldn't go with this. Perhaps making a well and filling it with chopped ham and wilted arugula? Or a juicy, broiled chicken breast plonked right on a pile of aligot? 

It was superb down to the last smidgin

In the flower garden, there is ample fragrance from lavender and lilies. Their heady perfume is accentuated on hot days.

Front garden : lavender, lilies & Box Elder/Maple trees

Daylilies and dahlias cheer up the path flanking one side of the house.

Red daylilies followed by taller pink ones & red dahlias in the background

Daylilies take several years to get established, but when they do, they are spectacular. Though each flower lasts just one day, the plants put out many buds.

Close-up of the taller pink variety

Shasta daisies shining in the sun announce summer in that bright, friendly way of theirs.

À la prochaine!