So it's been far too long since my last blog post, but now, the day before Thanksgiving, I finally have a little time on my hands.
The garden has been put to bed, almost. Late to mid October, me and Dawn cut down the tomatoes, peppers, eggplants, beans, cucumbers and broccoli. I pulled up the last of the carrots (some of which, left to grow the proper amount of time, actually got to a decent size!) and beets (ditto), pulled off the green peppers, hoping they'd go to red in our fridge, and gathered up all the green tomatoes to bring inside.
It's comforting, after a few years, to start to have a ritual. Now I know when the heat goes on in late October (we can never make it to November 1!), upstairs comes the little wooden, three-shelved "onion box" I got at an unfinished wood store, with little mesh grates on the doors. It lives in our back hallway all winter, our impromptu "root cellar" where we keep onions, potatoes garlic and winter squash.
The dried garlic and onions I grew are gone - I always mean to keep them longer, but they are so good, I always say, what the hell, what if they spoil, live for today, and they go into everything I cook between August and October and then they are gone. :( Every year I vow to plant more.
The last of the potatoes are hanging on, and I am carefully plotting their fate, planning my last few potato dishes with them in mind. But we are moving into a different phase of year, here in New England, something I am slowly getting used to. When I realized that tomatoes, eggplants and peppers were only fresh here for a few months (more like six to ten weeks!), it brought me down. How the heck are you supposed to eat the lush, sweet, local produce everyone rhapsodizes about, when October-May practically nothing grows?
Well, some people use season-extenders, which I'd like to learn more about, just like everything else I'd like to get around to (sewing buttons back on my coats, selling my stand-alone Ikea closet from two houses ago on Craigslist, writing a novel). Apparently, with the right cold frame, you can get lettuce in January (and I might believe it - my lettuce is still going strong!) but until then I'll have to stick to a tried-and-true old farmwife tradition: food preservation.
So, a few seasons into my New England gardening education, it suddenly dawned on me: old school (ie, colonial) housewives couldn't go to the supermarket in January to get food. They knew this in the flush seasons of July and August, and that is where our very most basic "processed foods" come from: jams, jellies, pickles, ketchup, mustard, relishes and sauerkraut, wine and beer. Who knows if the nutritious value was preserved (was it?) but at least they had a little variety. It also explains the difference between what we know as "Italian cuisine" and "German cuisine." Italy is linked with tomatoes, basil, zuccinis, and other fresh veggies of every kind. Well, guess what? It stays warm in Italy for a lot longer than in Germany, which is famous for bratwurst, beer, and sauerkraut. Or worse, Russian food, where tomatoes often barely make it to ripe at all. This is actually where my ancestors come from, and it is known for hardy root vegetables: potatoes, cabbages and beets. Black bread. Why? Not because they are unhealthful and hate salads, but because this was what was available.
Walking Away!
13 years ago