Jogging Toward Summer Solstice 2020

There's about two weeks left before summer officially rolls in. Chez nous, the crop method is the preferred one and not succession planting. There's a push now to get all of the vegetables planted before the longest day arrives. To cheer me up as I sieve compost, wield spades/forks/rakes, and keep recently sowed beds moistened, I recall with great fondness of all the produce already harvested and processed since February such as asparagus, rhubarb, peas, and strawberries waiting to be included in delicious meals for the coming months. Sometimes I take a break just to check out crops getting closer to being picked to ensure I don't miss the best time to harvest, like blueberries. Lovers of acidic soil that blueberries are, they wouldn't flourish in the slightly alkaline earth in our garden. Instead, they do their blue thing in large pots filled with an acidic potting mix. Keeping one of them company is a cobalt blue, hand-blown glass fishing float which most likely made its way from Spain and got put on display at a flea market in France, specifically in Grenoble, where we became happy buyers. One of the highlights of my twilight garden exercise romps started when lockdown first began and which I still do is bending down here and there, sampling a blueberry, a raspberry, and a strawberry.

This berry-festooned branch is just one of many.

Below photo: the green beans are in and covered with horticultural fleece to prevent them from being eaten by birds.  The parterre with bushy plants directly in front of the beans is one of our two potato beds. The two unkept ones in the foreground will eventually be planted with strawberry runners and carrots. The silvery, boxy thing in the lower left hand corner is one-half of the coldframe we got at Lidl just before the Covid-19 lockdown. The splash of vivid red in the lower right are volunteer poppies.

The heat-loving, purple osteospermums were potted up last autumn and brought indoors. Two out of three plants survived the confinement and are flourishing in the front garden. This winter they will go into the coldframe, watched over judiciously, and if needed, brought indoors. But this time, I will put the pot on wooden slats placed over circular trays filled with water to provide humidity. Though they get enough light in our living room, the central heating is a stress. Hopefully these two specimens will continue to over-winter through the years.

Calendula were sowed in flats early spring and kept in the cold frame until it was warm enough for them eventually to embrace the big, wide wonderful world. Their hardening off started when the frame was first propped open during daytime for a week followed by the seedlings being outdoors for a few hours over a period of several days leading to spending an entire day before being transplanted into the big pot where they will spend their time until autumn. Having never grown them before, I wonder if maybe I shouldn't have pinched the young plants in the hope they will be less leggy when mature as I might have ended their flowering capability. I won't relax until I see their wonderful orange blooms!

The beets were sowed the other day. It is such a pleasure to work our veggie beds as the soil has been so much improved over the last ten years with the additions of compost, leaf mulch, wood chippings, grass clippings, and green manure. It's fluffy and a lovely shade of brown. Yes!

Turnips and carrots are the last two vegetables needing to be sown. Carrots have a specific set of challenges which when met will yield a most satisfying crop. Like all homegrown veggies, their taste has a depth of flavour that is incomparable. That paper cone holding up the seed packet in the below photo is a DIY tiny seed sowing device. The seeds being quite small means that too many may get planted hence becoming crowded as they grow in size which requires thinning. As they are thinned their distinctive fragrance will attract a certain species of low-flying, white butterflies who then will deposit eggs which become larvae burrowing down into the edible root completely destroying its comestible value by leaving it riddled with brown tunnels. This destruction is carried on out of sight, therefore it is only when the crop gets pulled out of the ground, the cruel realisation hits, that after all that hard work, there are no carrots to eat.

To ensure that a nice steady stream of seeds are sowed, wet ordinary paper, like from a notebook, rolling it into a cone with a narrow opening. Press the outside edge to seal while still wet so it won't unravel. Moistening the paper and letting it dry roughens up its texture, slowing down the flow of seeds. If any thinning is necessary, the late afternoon is the best time as the butterflies are not around too much at that time. Another approach is to cover the thinned seedlings with horticultural fleece for about a week so their scent would have dissipated. In addition to keeping them free of larvae, they like loose soil which is as stone/pebble free as possible. Our bed is spaded and forked well, but it is not obstruction free so the only variety that I have had any success with is Carentan which has a mid-length and stout top half. If its growth gets forked by a stone, there's still enough carrot for the pot. Keep in mind during the several weeks it takes for the seeds to germinate, the soil must be kept evenly moist. A hose nozzle that makes a fine mist is a way to water without bunching up the carefully spaced seeds. Last year's harvest is still feeding us at the moment; I am guessing that it will supply about eighty percent of our annual needs. Hence just a few months of supermarket buying will suffice to get us to this season's harvest. 

Besides getting all the crops in before the solstice, I also try to get any desired cuttings from existing evergreen stock started. After getting dipped in growth hormone, planted in small pots, and thoroughly watered, they are drapped with clear plastic bags and kept under the pergola. When new growth is detected then they will be placed in the sun. If they do not reach nursery-bed transplantation size before winter, then they will go into the coldframe. All that condensation inside their little plastic homes is a comforting sight because it means until their roots form, they will still receive moisture through their leaves. A ton of laurel and heather cuttings already have been propagated leaving Leyland cypress, ivy, and rosemary to be done. Whew!

À la prochaine!

Gardening In The Time Of Covid-19*

I have felt a deep affection for our garden during the past ten years, so it's challenging to express how much more I presently love it as France completes its third day of lockdown while spring makes its much awaited appearence.

Foreground: off the patio white sweet alyssum, red tulip, abelia, irises, ivy-covered pergola pillar; background: lawn and that wide, brown smear is the asparagus bed.

Our larder and freezer is well stocked allowing us to refrain from food shopping (which is permitted but only if carrying a self-signed certificate printed from the government's website) which is mutually beneficial for us and others. But fresh can't be beat and the seven-year-old asparagus bed has begun in earnest last week popping out spears. Though their delectable taste lessens each day of storage, cutting off the woody ends (trimmings can be used for making stock), placing the asparagus upright in a jar with 2.5 cm (an inch) of water, and covering with a plastic bag keeps their flavour longer. In this way enough can be harvested to make a soup.

Rhubarb will soon be on its way.

In about a week, pea shoots will be ready for picking. Ah, fresh greens!

In about two months, raspberries born on last season's canes will be ripe. Once harvested, those canes will be cut almost to the ground, and new ones will grow enabling a second crop for September.

Strawberries will be ready by beginning of May.

I haven't planted any new tulips last autumn and hope what is in the ground will do their thing soon. Presently, there are single show stoppers like an Apeldoorn Darwin Hybrid bud peeking out in between an ivy-covered fence and a Leyland cypress hedge . . .

. . . and this sprightly Seadov Triumph tulip sprouting on the compost under a rusty pole . . .

. . . and finally this Purple Dream lily-flowered tulip gracing the front garden.

A sizable expanse of low-growing, evergreen periwinkle (Vinca minor) just off the front entrance staircase is full of their lovely blue blooms. 

À la prochaine!

* Yes, Love In The Time Of Cholera by Márquez inspired my post title!

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Autumn Advances

Days are becoming shorter and colours more sombre. Nearly two months of steady rain have also contributed to the lessening of light where it seems each day is just one premature, sustained gloaming. Semi-evergreen penstemon with their claret-coloured blooms are still going as they have been since early summer therefore making themselves especially valuable for smaller gardens like ours where every plant must work harder and longer in providing visual interest regardless what season. In larger gardens, the gaps resulting from short-lived displays don't dominate as much because there's always something of interest somewhere. Root veggies, planted just six to eight weeks ago, are getting closer to harvest. Their lush foliage is a welcomed contrast to withered and falling leaves, but I must say I enjoy the satisfying crunch of dead leaves underfoot!

Violet turnips are gleaming like huge amethysts. 

Carrots need another month to become mature.

But until then, the small, tender carrots which are thinned out to allow others to grow larger will have to do. And they do very well indeed when they are briefly simmered in butter and a bit of water. The water evaporates leaving the carrots with the most scrumptious glaze made by the butter and the sugar naturally occurring in these garden-fresh baby carrots.

The strawberry bed has put out many runners; twelve of them have been potted up in a recycled shallow container. The rest of the runners have been clipped and put on the compost so as not to choke the original plants' growth. Strawberry plants become less productive with each passing year, necessitating propagation every season. This coming spring, these runners will have developed enough roots to be transplanted into a bed which haven't had any strawberries planted for several years as strawberries are disease-prone and must be rotated. In early summer, four-year, hardly productive plants will be removed after harvest. As the bed empties through time, other crops are planted  Strawberries are worth all the trouble as our freezer can attest: container after container of slightly sugared, delectable berries waiting to be put into smoothies, cobblers, and more simply, served in their own syrup and dressed with vanilla-flavoured whipped cream.

Autumn is an excellent time for planting new arrivals and relocating existing ones. Sixteen laurel plants which came from cuttings of established laurels on our property were transplanted from their three-year-old nursery bed. I did one most days. The steady rainfall kept the soil at the right moisture level throughout the three-week period so not only the holes could be spaded easily but also sieved compost from our pile could be incorporated readily with the dug-up earth. The newbies will lengthen the existing hedge to completely flank the back garden's eastern boundary. The splendid but self-seeded and rather large rose of Sharon which has pressed itself against the fence presented a problem but my solution so far seems to be working. After digging a few trial holes, I could see no competing roots. I did give the bush's expansive branches a good pruning so I could work around it, digging and transplanting. The 'hedglings' are positioned around ninety centimetres (three feet) from the wire fence so as to allow an alley where I can go to clip and trim behind the hedge. 

Across the back garden, along the opposite boundary fence, the five Leyland cypress trees which were planted last autumn, mostly developed roots this season, reserving energy so they can grow an astonishing ninety centimetres (three feet) next year. They will fill in the space left by the much slower-growing ivy which has covered the majority of that fence and all of a cement wall. As with many serendipitous pairings, as the ivy became more and more of a background for the red rose already planted there I slowly realised that one of the most spectacular colour combos is a floriferous cloud of red roses being framed by a tall expanse of stalwart, dark-green ivy. The cypress will elaborate further on that theme.

The trees grew only thirty centimetres (one foot) this summer. But once they get going, they need at least four trims per year or else there will be a dark, brooding forest on that side! Therefore I use them very sparingly as they gallop away with growth before you can locate your shears. Since neighbours seldom appreciate being shrouded in gloom and gigantic trees are not able to be felled with clippers, it is not uncommon for these lovely trees to be the basis for legal disputes.

The potted bougainvillea has started to present their true flowers, tiny white blooms in the centres of gorgeous crimson sepals. That cheery yellow around the pot's base is provided by perennial snapdragons which have self-sowed in the cracked patio and have decided to perform a second show after their early summer debut.

Giant lavender which has been blooming since August is holding onto some of its flowers. A peony's burnished foliage complements the bluish spikes.

À la prochaine!

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Fresh April green here and there has morphed into verdant lushness all over. The first fig crop is forming while the second and more substantial one will happen in autumn.

Little fuzzy olive-green eggs are dotting the peach tree.

The strawberry harvest at present is enough for making a strawberry banana smoothie every other day. Peak production will be reached in several weeks.

Rhubarb is being picked now, the peas will be in a few weeks, and the potatoes at end of July.

The soft green of fennel (the herb, not the bulb) cosies up to flowering sage.

Comfrey is putting out young leaves and buds. It's an amazing plant for other plants as it is used as a fertiliser tea and a compost accelerator.

The weigela's flower-laden branches are draping the front garden in crimson.

The peony is continuing to set just a few blooms as I suspect the last couple of winters were too mild to give it the cold required for abundant flowering.

Hardy miniature gladioli loves to self sow where I dare not to as in smack up to this ivy-covered pergola pillar.

The Ferdinand Pichard Bourbon rose is paying no attention to Dirac the Cat napping in the southwest sous sol window as all of its blooms are leaning directly towards the south to get as much sun exposure as possible.

À la prochaine!

Our Potager at the End of a Very Busy May

As a grower of fresh produce, I never know if weather conditions will allow getting into the ground soon enough what I planned to do way back in the quiet of winter.

Pods for sure, but half of the patch is still at the flowering stage

Peas and new potatoes need to be planted early in the season which would be around late February/early March in southwest France. Their maturity takes about three months from sowing and requires cool temperatures, especially les petit pois. This season they were introduced into their soil home in April which means end-of-June harvesting. Hopefully there won't be a canicule (heat-wave) occurring before then!

Flowers usually signal potato harvesting is close; no blooms yet for this Artemis variety

The tomato seedlings were developed enough for planting in mid-April but various cold snaps prevented that from happening. Instead of being too frustrated, I took comfort from the French version of the European traditional rule-of-thumb, that is, les saintes de glace, which govern when outdoor spring planting is safe from cold temperatures. There is an ice saint for each of three days in mid-May, but the really big shot is St. Urbain (link in French) who is the final arbiter. Since his day falls on May 25, I tell myself that it is perfectly OK that the tomatoes went in just today.

The bed was staked shortly after

Shallots were planted for the first time. What an engaging grouping of perky green tufts!

These delicious & versatile aromatics are fantastic culinary additions

Since annual vegetables can be so challenging in terms of planting deadlines, perennial edibles are a welcome relief.

Blackberries are beginning to fruit

This winter our small peach tree (pruned to keep it manageable) was sprayed* for the first time with Bordeaux mixture to combat a very persistent case of leaf curl (caused by the fungus Taphrina deformans). Then after leafing out, it was sprayed with a different product to vanquish the ever ingenious blackfly (the sometimes winged black aphid). Ants love their sticky excretions so much that they protect the aphids from predators.

Not many peaches, but they are all clean of insect goo

In the flower garden, peonies are shaking out their ruffled, deep-pink petals.

Lavender in the background

The David Austin climbing rose, Falstaff, is showing off its deeply fragrant, quartered, crimson-touched-with-purple blooms in cascades.

Mixing with the scent of the bi-coloured Bourbon rose, Ferdinand Pichard, is the perfume of entwining honeysuckle.

Taking a break from tomato planting could not be better spent than being ensconced under the pergola flanked by these flowers which regale both the eyes and the nose. 

À la prochaine!

*Spraying is done on windless, dry days via an applicator filled with the right dilution of the appropriate product. 

Marinated Roast Loin of Pork with Mushroom Gravy...and smashed potatoes redux

Though the French are fond of simmering pork in milk which ensures moist tenderness, sometimes only roasted pork will satisfy a certain appetite. Since loin pork roasts that come my way usually lack a thick, top layer of fat which would act as a self-basting source, I do two things to keep it from becoming a dry husk of its former succulent self: 1) marinading with olive oil, garlic, thyme, and sage overnight and 2) roasting first at a higher temperature and then halfway through lowering the heat. Tucking some chopped onions and carrots under the meat adds flavour to the gravy while including the liquid from soaking dried Boletus edulis cèpes increases the amount.

 Nicely browned with a thin crackling and redolent of herbs, this roast looks, smells, and tastes delicious

Recipe for mashed potatoes is here

MARINADE (for a roast weighing about a kilogram)

Olive oil, extra virgin, around 4 tsps
Herbs, fresh (I used equal proportions of thyme and sage from our potager), 1 T
Garlic, 2 cloves, pressed
Salt

PORK ROAST
4 generous servings

Loin of pork, boneless, about 1 kg/2.2 pounds in weight
Onion, 1 small, finely chopped, about 2 T
Carrot, 1 small, finely chopped, about 2 T

GRAVY

Cèpes, a small handful
Liquid from soaking cèpes, 16 fluid ounces/455 ml
Drippings from the pork roast, 2 T (if not sufficient, melt enough butter)
Flour, white, 2 T
Carrot & onions roasted underneath the roast
Cream, 1 T
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

The night before make the marinade. Mix the minced herbs, pressed garlic, and olive oil together to get a gloppy paste.

Using your fingers, rub the paste all over the roast--top, bottom, front, back, and sides. Dust the top of the pork lightly with salt. Choose an oven pan that is not much bigger than the roast (to prevent drippings from evaporating/scorching). Cover well with plastic wrap or your fridge will reek from garlic. Reserve overnight.

The next day, preheat oven to 425 degrees F/218 degrees C. Instructions for soaking cèpes are here. Finely chop the carrots and onions and place under the pork, making sure that the veggies are covered by the meat.  If they stray outside the protective cover of the roast they will get carbonised. Put the roast in the oven. 

After about forty-five minutes, lower temperature to 350 degrees F/177 degrees C.  Following about forty minutes, test by piercing the meat and checking the juice which should have a slight tinge of pink (See related post at the end for more information on safely roasting pork without overcooking). Put roast on a warm plate and place a large enough bowl over it to keep it warm while the gravy is prepared. Slice just before serving, making sure any juice that oozes out is added to the gravy.

Transfer the drippings and the veggies (discarding any that got burnt) from the roasting pan into a small saucepan. Add butter if necessary as to get two tablespoons of fat. Stir in two tablespoons of flour to the hot fat and cook for about a minute. Pour slowly, stirring all the while, the liquid from soaking the cèpes. Add the chopped mushrooms. Mix smooth with a hand-held blender. Simmer for a few minutes until thickened. Add the cream and salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste.

Any leftover pork slices can be frozen. Freezing the surplus gravy separately allows a gentle way of reheating the pork: bring the gravy to a simmer first and then add the meat. Within a minute or two, the slices will be ready to serve without much additional cooking which could lessen its tenderness.

A slice or so of roasted pork was reserved to add to stir fry brown rice (recipe is here). I sauteed thinly sliced pork in hot oil briefly, for about a minute.

Reserve them on a plate while finishing the fried rice, tossing in the pork towards the end of cooking.

Our harvest from the previous season is slowly and surely diminishing. The last of the taters went into a skillet of smashed potatoes (recipe is here). Remember to discard any potatoes that have a greenish tint since the skins will be eaten. Omitting onions and mild chili peppers, I used a mix of minced fresh fennel, thyme, rosemary, and sage from our potager. The herbs along with chopped garlic were added after the potatoes were flipped over and close to the end of cooking so as to keep those ingredients from becoming burnt. With freshly grated Parmesan sprinkled over them, this is fast becoming my favourite comfort food.

Fifty percent of the potatoes we eat annually are homegrown!

Our cache of frozen strawberries won't last until this season's harvest, but happily there's enough to last for a few more months. The Calm One makes weekly crepes, and this time we stuffed them with whipped cream and our juicy berries. We then topped them with icing sugar. Pas trop mal!

Eating these delicious berries spurred me to tidy the strawberry beds in anticipation of the harvest starting in late spring. This is the time to order bare-rooted strawberries for late winter/early spring planting. Remember that they are adaptable to growing in pots/barrels and around shrubs because of their pretty flowers, attractive foliage, and gorgeous fruit.

The front end has been weeded and the strawberry plants mounded up to their crowns

The mild, wet winter has encouraged very early sprouting of the rhubarb.

The same weather has allowed the broccoli to stay alive though it is technically mid-winter. Unfortunately the harvest is very light anyway because I just could not keep on top of the ravenous appetite of slugs. Mild, rainy weather does have its disadvantages.

The only flowering is happening on the winter heather.

I have discovered where Elmo the cat lives. Recently, I was returning home from my daily walk and when I was several houses from ours, Mr. Elmoface trotted out from chez lui to greet me. He then followed me to my front door, came in, had a brief rest on the living room rug, meowed plaintively, and hypnotized me to give him a butter pellet and a splash of cream. Then off he went. I got to wonder how many other households are on his feeding itinerary as he is one persuasive feline.

Now tell me those eyes are not mesmerizing! 

À la prochaine!

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How to roast pork safely without overcooking