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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Iron Cookware Series: Roasted Salmon & Spiced Rhubarb With Fresh Pea shoots

Rhubarb is more than just pie or preserves or crumble. It pairs wonderfully with salmon.  Yes, it must be sweetened in this savoury instance, but not as much as in a dessert. The saltiness and sweetness makes a perfect match.

Harvested fresh from our potager, rhubarb and pea shoots are a delight. The rhubarb will be sweetened with maple syrup and flavoured with allspice (a mix of ground cinnamon, cloves & nutmeg can be substituted), ginger, and vanilla.

For each serving, you will need a portion of salmon, a large rhubarb stalk sans leaves, a small bunch of pea shoots or other greens like arugula, vanilla extract, ground ginger, and allspice (or a mix of cinnamon, nutmeg & cloves, all ground).

Preheat oven to 23o degrees C (450 degrees F). Slice the rhubarb into small pieces. Put a tablespoon or two of maple syrup (depending on the amount of rhubarb, such as with exceptionally large stalks its better to err on the sweet side as rhubarb can be extremely sour on its own), tiny dash of vanilla, pinch of ginger and allspice (or a mix of cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg) in a small bowl. Toss well. Pat the salmon dry with a paper towel. Preheat a slightly oiled iron skillet for about five minutes. Get it good and hot. Meanwhile season the salmon on both sides with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Sear it on both sides. Let a nugget of butter melt and add the rhubarb. Coat the rhubarb with butter and put in the oven. Depending on size and thickness of the salmon, cook from 6 to 10 minutes (mine took six). Longer cooking times will either require bigger rhubarb pieces or for smaller pieces to be removed while the salmon finishes roasting. When the centre can be flaked with a fork, it's ready. While it's cooking, thinly slice the pea shoots.

Spread the rhubarb on a plate. Place the salmon and top with pea shoots.

If desired, some fleur de sel can be sprinkled partout (everywhere).

Refreshing salmon with its subtle flavour, pea shoots with their grassy scent and natural sugars, and a-little-bit-gooey, pleasingly tart rhubarb made a very attractive trio indeed.

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À la prochaine!

Signs of Spring 2019

Winter will be officially over when the spring equinox occurs this coming 20th of March, but there is evidence that the season is changing. Here in southwest France, trumpet daffodils bloom around this time and they are a lovely sight swaying in the breeze. But my favourite harbinger is . . .

. . . seeing sedge after sedge after sedge of glorious, honking cranes, flying in from North Africa.

About a hundred and fifty tulips were planted last fall, and I can't wait to see them strut their stuff. A bunch of late-blooming, fragrant, peach-toned Dordogne tulips were nestled in an angular crook of the front garden lavender hedge. Here's hoping they will flower together sometime in late May, early June as they each would provide for the other a wonderful complementary colour contrast.

A mostly self-seeded bed—just a few plants were put in about eight years ago—measuring roughly five feet deep and twenty feet long flanking the western side of the house is a simple expanse of fragrant sweet violets. Such expansion was possible due to their explosive seed dispersal. Mowing down the bed with a line trimmer in the autumn ensures that the late-winter blooms will be visible otherwise the lusty foliage will hide them.

I saw a large bee on this peacock-blue towel hanging on the clothesline. From its energetic 'kneading' and size I am guessing it is a Megachilid species.

It soon figured out that there was neither nectar nor pollen to be had and flew off to the heather in full bloom which at present resembles a bonsai cherry tree exuberantly spreading its branches, laden with puffy deep-pink flowers, way over its cozy, patio cut-out.

Late winter is a good time to do any tasks that can be done now so as to avert a traffic crush of garden activity come spring. Therefore six evergreen, small-leaved globe Japanese hollies along with one in conical form were transplanted from their nursery bed to their permanent location flanking the central garden path, and then were mulched with our own wood chips. Eventually two other areas which are still planted with overgrown bearded irises will get the same kind of treatment, giving some much needed 'green bones' to the garden.

The bearded irises became so packed that they spilled onto the garden path. Making sure that days of rain soaked the soil, I sliced through the rhizomes with a lawn edger, and then removed the sections with a spade.

The peas sowed several weeks ago are just beginning to sprout. Yay! Since they were planted so early the harvest should be able to be completed for the first time in the history of this garden before it gets too hot for these lovers of cool weather.

As I was transplanting our very productive blueberry bush into a bigger pot, I whispered, blueberry muffins are your destiny. If your garden soil isn't acidic and you love blueberries as much as we do, the solution is filling a pot with packaged soil mix made just for plants needing a growing medium with low pH.

À la prochaine!

Pappardelle, Pea Shoots & Creamy Tuna Sauce...and irises, irises, irises!

After recently making the dumplings for our borscht (recipe), I found myself with a surfeit of dough. The more uncommon pasta like wholesome, comforting pappardelle is not easy to find here, so being a hedonistic opportunist, I pinched off a bit of dough, rolled it out until the sheet would not get any thinner without disappearing, and cut it into one-inch-wide strips. The next several days I kept on hammering out pieces of the dough until it was no more and adding to the pasta whatever fresh greens were available from our garden. The toppings were various easy-to-make sauces. One version was tossed with pea shoots and a creamy tuna sauce studded with capers and spiked with paprika and garlic.

The paprika imparts a pleasing rosiness to the sauce.

This is the first season I have potted up some pea seeds just for picking their shoots. I snap off several inches from the top, ending just above the next leaf. Before the summer heat wilts the plants, there should be several harvests.

They can be eaten fresh or cooked and are one of my favourite greens as they are so delicate in taste

In addition, I sowed the usual bed so the plants can form pea pods.

English daises galore, pea bed on the right, raspberries, bluebells, and wildlife area in the back

A golf-sized ball is enough for one serving.

Bring some water to the boil. Roll the dough out on a floured surface until it is fairly thin, but feel free to experiment with the thickness you like which is something you can't do with store-bought ones.

Put a few tablespoons of cream, a teaspoon of capers, a minced garlic clove, some paprika, a tablespoon or so of the pasta cooking water, and mashed tuna in a skillet. Heat gently while stirring. Add salt to taste.

Toss a handful of rinsed shoots in first and cook for about a minute.  Fish out and reserve.

Lower each noodle slowly by hand into the boiling water. As it cooks up fast, sticking will be kept to a minimum. But still give a judicious stir here and there. Depending on the thickness, only a minute or two of cooking is needed as fresh noodles are done quickly. Scoop out the papparelle with a pasta fork or drain them.

Mix the pasta and shoots together and top with tuna sauce. So simple, so fresh, and so good!

The irises are the stars at the moment in the garden. There are just two varieties--an earlier blooming, taller, silky two-toned violet-blue and a deep, velvety purple.

Anticipating the unfurling of such a tightly rolled bud is as thrilling as watching a fashion designer slowly shaking out a bolt of purple velvet.

The furry white tongue on the lower petal is the 'beard'

The lilacs do have a supporting role in the flower flick that is running in our garden.

But the roses are promising to be the scene stealer.

Hanging out the laundry in the brisk spring wind while being regaled with the bearded irises' perfume--similar but headier than that emitted by Lily of the Valley--is one of the biggest joys ever!

Apple tree is just starting to flower

As there are about seven buds on each iris stalk, the faded flowers wrap themselves around yet unopened buds. However deadheading so many flowers is eased because of their fragrance. As I will often tightly clutch huge quantities of them while working a bed, my hands end up looking like this:

Note to self: when deadheading irises wear old, dark clothes and not white clamdiggers!

The broccoli planted last autumn went fully into flower providing a wonderful colour complement for the bluebells and irises.

That's a strawberry bed close to flowering behind the yellow riot

The impertinent splash of red just above the irises is a rose impatient to audition in our garden's cinematic endeavour.

The spring garden is beautiful, non?

À la prochaine!

The Second Harvest of the Season: Pea Shoots...and planting blueberries

Linguine is one of my favourite pasta shapes as I regard it as spaghetti trying to become a noodle, that is, a Goldilocks shape, not too narrow, nor too flat. Since there are pea shoots coming up nicely in the potager, I added their pretty tendrils, succulent leaves, and juicy stems to my basic linguine sauce of capers, parsley, garlic, and Parmesan.

Pea shoots have long been enjoyed in Asiatic cuisine and are becoming popular outside that region.  They turn a dark green when cooked, adding a fresh, light pea taste along with a vibrancy only greens can give. Pea shoots are delicious raw too, making great salads.

When bush pea plants are about a foot high and before they flower, pinch off about four to five inches of top growth including the tendrils, some partially opened leaf growth, a tender full leaf and the stem below it.  I take just one pinching from each plant.  Peas shoots are so good that late summer I will sow some peas in a large pot just for shoots so I can keep pinching them off since they will not be grown for peas also. Additionally, peas can be sowed thickly so when thinning, you will be harvesting pea shoots at the same time.

Gather the ingredients: for one serving, about an inch-in-diameter of linguine, about five or six pea shoots, a tablespoon of capers, a tablespoon of fresh, flat-leaf parsley, a tablespoon or two of extra-virgin olive oil, table salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste, a sprinkle or two of fleur de sel, and several tablespoons of freshly grated Parmesan.

Cook the linguine in boiling water for about eight minutes and drain, reserving several tablespoons of the pasta water. Using the same pot, warm the olive oil on low heat and add the minced garlic and the washed pea shoots.  Stir and cook gently for about seven minutes or until the shoots are wilted, dark green, and tender.

Add the reserved pasta water, a tablespoon of capers, and a tablespoon of minced parsley. Toss the linguine in this sauce and simmer for about a minute or until most of the pasta water is gone. Season with salt and freshly ground pepper.

Top with freshly grated Parmesan and fleur de sel. Though pricey, fleur de sel lasts a long time and is an indispensable addition after cooking or on raw foods when using fresh, simple ingredients. It taste-enhancing edge is lost when heated.

Though not quite a noodle, linguine encourages slurping, and this version particularly triggered noisy enjoyment.

Peas being a cool-weather crop are always a challenge for me to grow as early spring sometimes can be non-existent in the southwest of France with late winter becoming summer without a significant transition.

Happily the first pea flower opened, signifying pea pods will develop before June.

About a month after sowing bush peas, I fertilized the young plants with an organic, NPK balanced product.

Sprinkle fertilizer per packet's instructions, scratch in, and water well

When the plants started to sprawl, I strategically placed twigs to help support their growth.  Though the variety is bushy and not a vine, I have found out if the weather turns inclement with strong winds and rain, the small bushes get entangled, making harvesting difficult.

Weeded, fertilized, watered, twigged, and mulched bush pea bed!

Each spring I try to add some new plants to the potager.  This time, they are asparagus, early season/new potatoes, and blueberry bushes.  As blueberries require a very acid soil of about 4.5 pH and my soil is neutral with a pH of 7, I filled up a large planter with a potting mix for acid-loving plants.

At least two plants are needed to encourage fruiting

If the plant is root bound with roots coming out the bottom holes, then submerge the pot in a pail of water until it gets saturated. After tapping around the pot and on its bottom, I place the plant's main stem between two spread-out fingers while easing the blueberries out of their containers.

I always looks for slug eggs which resemble tiny beige pearls and squash them between my fingers.

There were quite a lot of slug eggs in one plant

I gently roughed the root ball all around with my fingers, so the roots would be encouraged to explore their new home.

To serve both as a mulch and as deterrent from cats digging pit stops in my lovely planter, I placed cardboard on the surface after watering the plants well.

Cardboard mulch weighted down with fragments of ever useful terracotta roofing tiles.

On the left, the strawberry beds are in full flower meaning strawberry harvesting is getting closer.

Various seedlings started indoors about six weeks ago are getting to close to being transplanted into their beds.

For a brief period, of about a week, lilies of the valley reign in the flower garden.

Dayo unfortunately has been unable to keep me company in the garden as he injured his back, right paw.  He needs to stay in for a few more days and on his regimen of medicines.

The fence separating our garden from Monsieur and Madame Ms is most likely the culprit.  Dayo scampers over it many times daily.      

À la prochaine!

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RELATED LINKS:

More information on growing and harvesting pea shoots by Willi Galloway at digginfood