First!

The first ripe tom of the year is a healthy-size Brandywine x Stupice. My friend Mickey grew the plant that created this, from seed of mine a couple years ago. She has an amazing, mysterious way with plants and boosting them to production. This is a very nice-size fruit for early in the season.

Urban inspiration

I became a worm mom recently, through serendipity and the generosity of a compost-wacko compadre. It’s odd and humbling, having become completely at ease with my farming impulses even as I cherish city life, to suddenly be unsure whether I’m up to the task of caring for my squirmy charges. I seem to be doing fine so far. I give them coffee grounds and whirred-up remains of my salads that would otherwise go in the compost bins. And, well, I’ll let you know. But here is an absolute inspiration: Will Allen, who has seen why urban farming is essential and is striving to make it accessible. I’m not sure why I had to read the New York Times to find out what’s going on in my own backyard, but there you have it. “Creating soil from waste is what I enjoy most,” he said. “Anyone can grow food.” So simple—and so true.

Cheapskate scores!

This evening when I went into the alley to throw out some things, I came upon a short, shiny row of apples at the base of one trash cart. My first compost-wacko thought was: “Marvy! More for my bins.” Then I noticed the apple line was pointing to a box full of rotting fruits, and next to that—another. Yep, I’m a cheap date. I get giddy from finding that someone has dumped rotting fruit behind my house.

I took this as an invitation to start up the new batch in my second bin, the one I harvested for this year’s garden. So I cleared out the last few cups of finished compost and tossed the gift fruits in: 177 apples, several bunches of grapes, 2 oranges, 1 peach and 1 plum.

Then I ripped up the juice-soaked cardboard boxes and added them as browns to balance out the fresh(ish) fruits. Now this will be the main putrescible pile, as we let the other binful burn down and transform into next year’s fertilizer. And this bin is well on its way to churning out beautiful, frugal food for the 2011 garden.

On the other side of the yard, it’s almost scape time!

Added for an inquiring commenter:

I got that one free from a friend who didn’t have room for it anymore. I think the city sells them for $40 in the spring, along with rain barrels.

All in, all good

What finally happened in the veg garden is this: 43 tomatoes, 18 peppers and 1 eggplant.

Tomatoes:

1. Marizol Bratka
2. Perito
3. Brandywine Sudduth
4. Olena Ukrainian
5. Cherokee Chocolate
6. Lucky Cross
7. Brandywine, Off the Vine
8. Depp’s Pink Firefly
9. Brandywine x Stupice 06
10. Earl’s 08
11. German Head
12. Burpee Seedless Hybrid from Dad
13. Tennessee Surprise 06
14. Lucky Cross 07
15. Chianti Rose
16. Tennessee Surprise 07
17. Striped Roman
18. Jan’s BxS 15
19. Watermelon Beefsteak
20. Jan’s BxS 16
21. Nagy Katai
22. Earl’s 06 broken stem
23. Grandpa Luddolph
24. Mexico
25. Woodle Orange
26. Perito
27. Black Plum
28. Jan’s BxS 15
29. Stump of the World
30. Mickey’s BxS
31. Marizol Bratka
32. Jan’s BxS 16
33. Brandywine Sudduth regular leaf (wrong leaf)
34. My BxS 07
35. Prue 08
36. Black Zebra
37. Prue 08
38. My BxS 06
39. Purple Russian
40. Prue 06
41. Brandywine, Off the Vine
42. Grandpa Luddolph
43. Jan’s BxS 15

Peppers, most in pots, and 2 of them still kicking from last year’s crop:

1. Chuska in maroon 5-gallon bucket
2. Gold Marconi in big black pot
3. Paradicsom in dark green pot
4. Jalapeno in small clay-color pot
5. Paprika from last year in small clay-color pot
6. Bull Nose from last year in large clay-color pot
7. Szentesi in small clay-color pot
8. Early Hungarian Sweet in large clay-color pot
9. Doe Hill Golden Bell in grey pot
10. Jalapeno in violet pot
11. Jalapeno in violet pot (same pot as 10)
12. Bullnose in small black pot
13. Chuska in white pot
14. Paradicsom in green pot
15. Paprika in small clay-color pot
16. Aji Dulce in the ground
17. Jalapeno in the ground
18. Paprika in the ground

The eggplant is Rosa Bianca, and it’s in ground.

Soup seeds

Running into this 1920s ad art online reminded me that I ordered free tomato seeds a few weeks back from the Campbell Soup Co. 

Right after I hit send on the request, we got the news that our girl cat had chronic renal failure, and life became a big blur of meds and treatments. She’s doing better, but I was surprised when the seeds showed up the other day. I was wondering whether the package would say what variety they are, and it doesn’t.

I was going to bet they’re Rutgers, an open-pollinated variety the company helped develop that was introduced in 1934 and is popular for canning. The official press release suggests that might be right. But someone on one of my gardening forums called and asked enough questions to figure out they’re for a hybrid Roma type. In any case, if you’d like some free tomato seeds, check out this link by June 21. Following are some can codes:

Chicken Noodle – Code 1: P5 Code 2: 25 
Cream of Chicken – Code 1: P5 Code 2: 03 
Bean with Bacon – Code 1: EST4C Code 2: 29 
Beef with Vegetables – Code 1: EST4C Code 2: 11

Humongo-veggies

With gardening season rapidly approaching, I offer you this glimpse of a whimsical program from across the pond. It’s devoted to people who grow oversize veg, as they call them (and I think I’m going to adopt the term—much sleeker than veg-e-ta-ble). I wish I could see whole episodes of this.

http://www.channel4.com/video/half-ton-veg/series-1/episode-1/growing-obsession_p_1.html

http://www.channel4.com/video/half-ton-veg/series-1/episode-1/big-is-beautiful_p_1.html

http://www.channel4.com/video/half-ton-veg/series-1/episode-1/all-or-nothing_p_1.html

Summertime Gnaws

Little Boots/Caligula/Cutlet continues to eat everything.

And I’ve been munching tomatoes at every turn.

Which I’ve been picking not-quite-ripe because of the squirrels’ insane—nay, irrational—appetite this year.

The huge ones they take chunks out of turn to slug bait post-haste. It’s grotesque, but good for the compost (I keep chanting to myself).

In variety news, the Brandywine x Stupices that I’ve been growing and the ones a friend raised are displaying notable differences. Mine are more Stupicey, though some are broad and Brandywine-shaped; and all of mine are pinkish red, whereas hers are more bright orangey-red and kind of ruffled around the top. Some of hers even appear before ripeness to have bicolor streaks. Both our sources are an F2 I got years ago from Carolyn Male, so somewhere in here we should be choosing to refine the strain. Except that I’m still debating which variations are preferable.

One plant is producing various shapes. I’m a neophyte at this crossing of types, so I’m just winging it here.

I’m looking forward to cracking open this Harvard Square, which was the favorite at our tomato tasting last year. The ripe fruit is the same color combo you see here. I don’t usually go for greenies, but this one’s got that bicolor intrigue.

Divine intervention

Over the weekend I had a dream in which I was going to see the Dalai Lama. What does this have to do with the house, you ask? Read on!

So I’m in a humongous lecture hall, milling around with the other minions looking for a place to sit. We climb up and up and find new and ever-narrower seating sections—all full. Finally, as I’m thinking about how I’m really supposed to be at work anyway, I’m seated and craning to try to find the stage. When I realize I have a bucket in my lap. Full of plaster. Pink plaster, since I am smitten with Plaster-Weld. So I start mixing it up and smooshing the stuff against the sides of the bucket to smoothen it out. And then I realize there’s no way this stuff is going to stay soft throughout the whole lecture and the trip home. So what should I do—plaster the seats around me?

And then I woke up. Much to the relief of everybody else in the dream, I am sure.

I can think of many interpretations of this, though none of them really help me with the fact that I intended to finish off the plastering today so we could start nailing up the tin ceiling next weekend. But instead we slept in until after noon. And now I am blogging. And thinking about making brownies with this recipe yanked from an imaginary friend:

8 tbsp butter
2 ounces unsweetened chocolate
1 c sugar
1 tsp vanilla
2 eggs
1/2 c flour

Melt butter and chocolate together. Stir in sugar. Stir in vanilla. Stir in eggs. Stir in flour. Pour into buttered 8″x8″ pan (not a different size). (Lick bowl.) Bake at 325 for 20-22 minutes, just until top is set. (Watch carefully. Dry and crumbly probably means baked too long.)