Lisa's Polytunnel

My good friend Lisa has been living abroad in Ireland for the past several years, where she's running the successful fledgling publishing company, Doire Press, with her partner John.  Now, Lisa and I share no gardening history, and I've never known her to have a garden....until she moved to Ireland.

We met over 10 years ago in a literature class devoted to the fascinating writing & illustrations of William Blake.  (If you love William Blake and have never seen Jim Jarmusch's Dead Man, you should.  My advance apologies for two graphic scenes of violence.  I'm not interested in violence, but will endure a lot for Blake.  Besides, it stars Johnny Depp before he became a gay pirate...)

So Lisa is gardening in the stony seaside of Ireland near Galway.  She's been digging up stones, growing potatoes and greens, and this year she wrote to tell me she's thinking of adding a polytunnel to her space.  So what is a polytunnel?  I'd never heard it before.  After looking in all my usual places, I found it's essentially what Yanks call a "hoop house" or "door garden".  My Dad has a substantial one that we call "the greenhouse".

 The benefits of it are getting an early start on your garden, and extending it later into the fall/winter, even allowing a fully year-round cycle in the temperate Pacific northwest.  The protective plastic cover provides a microclimate that offers young plants an earlier (and in winter, a later) warmth.  I don't have one!  But this morning as I examined the cautious progress of my pea starts in this late-warming Spring, I had a desire to make one.

The best part of this clip is not that it shows you how to construct a polytunnel, because it doesn't do that in detail.  The best part is that it shows you how to clean one, to keep the plastic cover in good shape for years of extended gardening.    





You can visit Lisa and her partner John at the following web address.  While you're there, ask about the progress of their polytunnel.  http://www.doirepress.com/site/HOME.html

"The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity... and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself." 


-William Blake

This One's For The Kids

In the past 18 months, five new little ones have come into our lives! Just out of our newlywed year, my partner and I are still getting used to the notion of knowing children. But just as our friendships with their many parents began, they are fascinating from the first moment, and we are transfixed!

First came Wesley, born in the winter but already owning the bleached summer blonde of a heartbreaking rambler. Next was sweet little Adaliyne, all dark eyes and cheeks, with an easy October smile. Then giggling and handsome, blue-eyed Bridger, born on J.R.R. Tolkien's birthday. Followed by long and lean Iris, sliding into the mixed March light with still-cloudy eyes, a talisman birthmark and the warmth of a fresh baker's dozen. And the newest, fearless Talan, future Riverkeeper and keymaster to a wilderness renaissance.

We are lucky to know the next generation of our dear friends and loved ones. Some born to gardeners, and some not.  All of them holding some magic for us.  All known somewhat intimately through their parents, across life's webbing geography that separates us from all but one. In recognition of them, and of all the little ones out there, this post is dedicated to cartoons, childrens' books, and nursery rhymes.

These little verses are for the youngest, for the snow still falling on the mountains, for the robins and flowers of Spring, and for the squirrels planting nuts in the garden when they think nobody's looking.

"I Had a Little Nut Tree"

I had a little nut tree


Nothing would it bear


But a silver nutmeg


And a golden pear;


The King of Spain's daughter,


She came to see me

And all because of my little nut tree.


I skipped over water,


I danced over sea


And all the birds in the air


Couldn't catch me.

"The Crocuses"
by Frances E.W. Harper


They heard the South wind sighing
A murmur of the rain;
And they knew that Earth was longing
To see them all again.


While the snow-drops still were sleeping
Beneath the silent sod;
They felt their new life pulsing
Within the dark, cold clod.


Not a daffodil nor daisy
Had dared to raise its head;
Not a fairhaired dandelion
Peeped timid from its bed;


Though a tremor of the winter
Did shivering through them run;
Yet they lifted up their foreheads
To greet the vernal sun.


And the sunbeams gave them welcome.
As did the morning air 
And scattered o'er their simple robes
Rich tints of beauty rare.


Soon a host of lovely flowers
From vales and woodland burst;
But in all that fair procession
The crocuses were first.


First to weave for Earth a chaplet
To crown her dear old head;
And to beautify the pathway
Where winter still did tread.


And their loved and white haired mother
Smiled sweetly 'neath the touch,
When she knew her faithful children
Were loving her so much.

For the next older set, one of my favorite new childrens' books is A Seed is Sleepy.  There are endless positive reviews online, both for Diana Aston's writing and for Sylvia Long's beautiful watercolor illustrations.  For those of you local to Portland, you can visit it in person at Presents of Mind and Powells Books.

Books have always fascinated me.  As a child, well against the good advice of my mother, I read under the covers at night with a flashlight into the early morning hours.  As the batteries drained and dimmed the light, I shook the flashlight to get every next sentence I could.  For children of the ages to get away with this, the link for you is http://www.ahs.org/awards/excellence_in_childrens_literature.htm.  There's a whole section of award-winning gardening books for kids of various ages.  It has all the old classics parents will remember from grade school libraries (if you frequented these in the 80's, ha!) - I have no idea what's in them anymore.  

And for those who can't pull free from pixelated images in light-tube display (I'm looking at a certain nephew here), a little cartoon delight.  Happy Saturday!

First Day Barefoot!

I believe there is no such thing as a shrinking violet, that there is only the shy or cautious viewer.  Violets embody the qualities of divine power (blue) and of divine love (pink) which, when merged, create a pulsating energy that consumes on contact the darkness within all that it touches.  


"The violets are children with bare feet"


Translation by Allen Prowle
Original poem by Rocco Scotellaro

The leaves are fresh on the almond trees,
spring water rains from stone walls;
trotting lightly, the donkeys choose
the friendlier of the river’s banks;
the girls with the darkest eyes
clamber on the squeaking cart, aloof.
March is a baby, laughing already, in its swaddling clothes.


And you can forget the winter,
who, bent by bundles of wood,
have told your beads,
mile after freezing mile,
to roast your face by the fire.


Now ticks come back to the horses,
in the stables flies stir the air,
and children with bare feet
charge upon clumps of violet.

If you have a mind to grow these, try planting them in a portion of your lawn that's shaded from hot afternoon sun.  They tend to take over, albeit slowly.  Harvest the flowers in spring (March - June) for homemade Violet Syrup, to toss into fresh salads, or to candy for an old-fashioned treat.

To make Violet Syrup, pour 1/2 C. boiling water over 3 cups of flowers (no stems) and cover.  Let cool and steep together for 24 hours.  On the second day, add 2 - 3 C. sugar (to taste) to the violet water and bring to a gentle boil, stirring 'til the sugar is dissolved.  Strain the flowers.  Your Violet Syrup is ready for use!  Store in a cool, dark area or in the fridge for up to 6 months.  Little re-corking bottles make sweet gifts.   

Photo by French Tart

Early Spring Greens Harvest

In case you didn't believe me about the gastronome awakening to Miner's Lettuce and other seemingly weedy spring greens, I went recipe hunting through the currents and found this great posting from Seattle's Ballard neighborhood: 

http://mattikaarts.com/blog/uncategorized/miners-lettuce-salad-with-baby-beets-beet-greens-rapini-spring-garlic/

...and this one from the highly reputable Nostrana restaurant in Portland.  See the goat cheese Pappardelle listing.

http://dl.dropbox.com/u/33778/nostrana-dinner-tonight.pdf

Stalking Wild Greens

When talking about weeds, I find the least accusitory definition is "any plant not wanted in the location it grows".  Often in gardening, and definitely in the Pacific Northwest, our most common garden-variety weeds are wild-grown native plants, edible or otherwise useful.  One has only to decide to put them to their use.  If, in your own garden, you're not content with the natural invasions of inconspicuous foliage bearing unpretentious blooms, consider tasting them...if only once.  It's possible you'll enjoy the sweet flavor and juiciness of Miner's Lettuce, and be tempted to further harvest them for salads, smoothies, and fresh eating.

Miner's Lettuce (Montia perfoliata), is a Pacific Northwest wild native that got its name from history's gold miners who sought its freshness in late winter through early spring.  Take a look around your own yard and you may find some.  Gastronomes are rediscovering the consumable value of this and other garden-variety weeds.  These days, it is increasingly found at farmers' markets.  For some, it's always held value.  During the winter and spring that I worked the landscape crew in Laurelhurst Park, I saw the same petite grandmother harvest a large patch on the park's grounds several times.

So how do you go about harvesting this diminutive lilypad-looking green?  This simple instructional video shows how to make the most of one of our early spring "weeds".

So you can spend more time gardening

Try this in your slow cooker:

Chicken Paprikash, known in our house as
Lulu's Chicken Dumpling Soup

1 4lb. chicken
1-1/2 tsp. salt
1-1/2 tsp. red pepper flakes
2 tsp. paprika
chicken bouillon cubes to taste
pepper to taste
-------------------
2 eggs
1-1/2 tsp. salt
1 C. all-purpose flour
(3 C. cooked chicken from the original 4 lb. chicken)
-------------------
4 T. unsalted butter

2 C. onions, chopped

1 T. roasted garlic, minced

1/2 C. all-purpose flour
3 C. cooked chicken (I use Trader Joe's frozen boneless seasoned chicken strips)
-------------------
1 T. Smoked Tabasco (chipotle sauce)


1.  Place the chicken, salt, red pepper flakes and paprika in your slow cooker.  Fill the stoneware 3/4 of the way full with water.  Cover; cook on low for 9 hours or high for 3-4 hours.


(While the chicken cooks, how about pulling some of those early "weeds"?  Cardamine, or Bittercress, can be harvested for fresh salad greens, as can Miner's Lettuce.  Cardamine has a peppery flavor, and a unique bitterness that is best enjoyed in very small amounts.  Miner's Lettuce has a sweet flavor and juiciness that makes for great fresh eating.  Keep an eye out for them.)

2.  Remove the chicken from the slow cooker and turn the temperature to high.  Add water as needed to bring the volume back up to 2/3 -  3/4 full.  Add bouillon cubes to taste.  This is your chicken broth.

3.  As the chicken cools slightly, put a skillet on the burner and add the 4 T. butter, chopped onions, and garlic.  Cook until the onion is translucent.  Stir in 1/2 C. flour until fully incorporated.  Pour in 1 Qt. of your chicken broth, stirring constantly, and add your additional 3 C. chicken to the broth.  Cover.  Reduce heat, and simmer 5 minutes.

4.  While your skillet simmers, separate the meat from the whole chicken and discard the skin and bones.  Cut the chicken meat into bite-size pieces.  You should get 3 C. cooked chicken from your 4 lb. bird.

5.  In a blender or food processor, combine the 3 C. cooked chicken from your whole bird, 2 eggs, 3/4 C. chicken broth from your slow cooker, 1 C. flour, and 1-1/2 tsp. salt.  Process until smooth.  This is your dumpling mixture.

6.  When slow cooker broth is boiling, add the contents of your small skillet to it and stir to incorporate mixture.  Let cook for 2-3 minutes.

7.  Drop dumpling mixture by rounded spoonfuls into boiling broth.  Simmer uncovered 5-8 minutes until well-formed and slightly browned.

8.  Add smoked tabasco to the slow cooker, and soup is ready to serve hot!

Raising Rhubarb

Did you ever eat the raw stems of rhubarb dipped in sugar?  I planted these for my husband, whose memories of the tangy sweet treat are fond.

This sweet little darling, Victoria, is reaching for sunlight to green and grow its ancient-looking leaves.  We have several planted in our little landscape, between ornamental perennials and container plants.  Last year was all patience, getting our tubers settled in.  But this, this will be a light harvest year if all goes well.  And 2012 will bring the bounty.

http://www.rhubarbinfo.com/varieties

Rhubarb provides a magnificent prehistoric look to the landscape, similar to Gunnera but of much smaller stature.  If its rugged charm doesn't disarm you, and you're not content to allow edible plants idle in your landscape, tempt your friends and family with a rhubarb-strawberry crumble (recipe from Cooking Light, 2004).  And if the weather's right, make it an easy dutch oven dessert on your next trip to the mountain or the coast.


Ingredients
1/2  cup  all-purpose flour
1/2  cup  quick-cooking oats
1/3  cup  flaked sweetened coconut
1/4  cup  granulated sugar
1/4  cup  packed brown sugar
1/4  cup  chilled unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
6  cups  (1/2-inch-thick) slices rhubarb (about 1 1/2 pounds)
2/3  cup  granulated sugar
2  tablespoons  cornstarch
Cooking spray
1/4  cup  strawberry spread (such as Polaner All Fruit)

Preparation
Preheat oven to 375°.

Lightly spoon flour into a dry measuring cup; level with a knife. Combine flour and the next 4 ingredients (flour through brown sugar) in a medium bowl; cut in butter with a pastry blender or 2 knives until mixture resembles coarse meal.

Combine rhubarb, 2/3 cup granulated sugar, and cornstarch in a large bowl, tossing to coat. Spoon rhubarb mixture into an 11 x 7-inch baking dish coated with cooking spray. Drop strawberry spread by spoonfuls over rhubarb mixture; sprinkle with oats mixture. Bake at 375° for 40 minutes or until browned and bubbly.