Let's Get Dirty
A gardening blog for adults who still love to play in the dirt.
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By Carol Clark
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Aching for a road trip, Olan and I set out early Sunday morning with a bag full of snacks to ward off starvation, fishing gear and perfect weather. Our destination? Lake City, to take a sneak peek at the beginning of fall leaves changing color.
Lake City is located in the San Juan Mountains of southwestern Colorado at 8,658 feet, about 55 miles south of Gunnison on State Highway 149, and 74 miles north of South Fork. Ouray is close but a rough four-wheel drive Engineer Pass keeps this mountain town very isolated. While we were disappointed in the delay of autumn in the high country, we were thrilled to rediscover the charming town and beauty that surrounds it.
It has been many years since we explored this area so we stopped at the Sportsman store to find out what the fish were biting and asked them where we could stop for a great meal in "The City."
The Restless Spirit Saloon was the answer, and soon we were eating the best eggs Benedict we have ever had in a western saloon. Everyone in this place knew each other, except for us, the obvious tourists. Each person who entered was greeted by name by the grizzly bartender. With a population of only around five-hundred people and so secluded, everyone is bound to know just about everything about you.
The Baptist Church down the street dismissed and it seemed the whole congregation congregated at the saloon.We both thought about how wonderful and in some ways not so wonderful living in such a small isolated community would be.
Afterwards, we found a quiet fishing spot on the river and took an afternoon nap. Sorry, I don't have any changing fall foliage photos for you but I am open to suggestions for another road trip next weekend.
There isn't time,
There isn't time,
To do all the things I want to do.
With all the mountain tops to climb,
And all the woods to wonder through.
- Eleanor Farjeon
By Penny Stine
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
I’m finally picking enough tomatoes to eat them every day for breakfast, make fresh pasta sauce, Caprese salad, bruschetta, eat them with basil and cucumbers and generally make a happy little pig of myself. These are all Virginia Sweet tomatoes, grown from seed purchased from Tomato Growers Supply Company.
Earlier in the month, my husband and I tasted and compared Sioux and Jetsetter varieties. Today, I brought a Kellogg Breakfast (pictured here) and one of my precious Virginia Sweets to work for an official tomato taste test and review.
I gotta say, I like the looks of both tomatoes.
In the garden, the plants are both huge – big enough to overgrow and overwhelm the tomato cages in which they’re planted. Both started falling over last week. I'm propping up this tomato cage with the stakes I planted for the cucumbers to climb. The cukes didn't grow up the stake teepee, but they are starting to grow in the tomato cage!
But back to the review:
The Kellogg Breakfast has few seeds and plenty of meat. It’s a very low acid tomato and doesn’t have near as much juice and general tomato snot that some people can’t stand in a raw tomato. The texture is on the firm side. Extremely mild, but good flavor.
The Virginia Sweet is sweet and tangy. Also huge and full of juice, seeds and all that offensive tomato snot and slime. I included one in a pot of fresh tomato sauce and the result was unbelievable.
Here at the Sentinel, the Kellogg Breakfast tomato won more fans, but my personal preference is the Virginia Sweet.
I've never been able to grow such big tomatoes before - they're even easy to find in the garden, although the plant made this tomato cage collapse, too. The giant marigolds are keeping the tomatoes off the ground.
Good thing I don’t have to decide today what to grow next year, because I can’t make up my mind.
By Penny Stine
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Last time I went to my favorite orchardist to buy peaches, he had flats of small Asian pears (AKA pear apples, apple pears, Japanese pears, Japanese pear apples, etc, etc) sitting on the table in the garage next to the peaches. He explained that he only had two young trees and the fruit was small. They looked so tasty I had to buy a flat.
As you can see, we ate several before I thought to take a photo.
Then I decided to put them in a pie, although when I began to google, I discovered that the experts said they weren’t good for baking because they’re so juicy and most people choose to eat them raw. Bah! I scoff at the experts. Actually, I suspect that most people choose to eat them one at a time and raw because they're so stinkin' expensive in the grocery stores. Way too valuable to experiment with in a pie. But Arnie sold me the flat for $6.
I wanted to make enough pie crust on Sunday morning before church to bake two pies, since I also had enough ripe peaches to fill a pie. I had already decided to make a sour cream pear apple pie, which only needed a bottom crust, so I needed to make enough dough for two pie bottoms and one top.
Oops. I was ready to make pie dough but discovered I didn’t have enough shortening. Necessity is the mother of invention. Rather than drive to the store, I decided to do a combination butter/shortening crust. I improvised as I went along, but here is the general idea:
3 ½ C flour
½ C shortening
½ C cold butter
1 tsp vinegar
1 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
cold water – maybe half a cup.
When making pie crust, I always use a hand-held pastry cutter. My mom uses a fork and makes fab pie crusts, but I can’t. I’ve tried the food processor, too, but nothing beats the pastry cutter for me.
The combination of butter and shortening was magic. The dough was the easiest dough I’ve ever rolled. I made one pie early Sunday morning and refrigerated the rest of the dough wrapped in plastic to use Monday night. It was still great Monday night. Before I even tasted it, I knew the butter/shortening combo was my new secret weapon against pie crusts that refuse to cooperate.
Since I was improvising a recipe for the crust, I did the same thing for the filling:
1 C sour cream
1/3 C brown sugar
1/3 C white sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp ginger
2 Tbsp flax meal (good for you, plus it's a great thickener)
1/2 C flour
7 small Asian pears
Mix the sour cream, sugars, flour, flax and spices in a bowl. Combine with the sliced pears (I peeled half of them, but got lazy & in a hurry and decided not to peel the rest) and put in an unbaked pie shell.
Sour cream pies usually have a crumb topping, so here's what I did for the top.
1 C oatmeal
¼ C butter
1/3 C brown sugar
1/3 C slivered almonds
1 tsp cinnamon
Combine topping ingredients with beloved pastry cutter and spread (pour, place, whatever) across pears. Bake 375 for 50 minutes or until crust looks done.
Why is a pie recipe in the gardening blog, you ask? It was tasty enough that I’m going back to my peach grower to ask him where he bought his trees. I planted a peach tree in my back yard this spring. Perhaps next year, I’ll plant an Asian pear.
By Laurena Mayne Davis
Friday, September 16, 2011
Do not click away! This is not some kind of Ronco blast-from-the-past ad or even a corny infomercial. (Two for only $14.99!)
Even though electric carving knives always bring to mind the era of Dixie Cup dispensers and shag-carpet toilet-tank covers, this is one retro household item you’re going to want.
Years ago someone (name lost to history) suggested I use an electric knife to cut corn from blanched cobs. At the time I thought it entirely unnecessary. Why not just use a plain-old knife? But once I tried one, there was no turning back. It saves wear, tear and blisters on the hands, and the whole process is so much faster. And the knives are only about 15 bucks — worth buying even to use just once a year.
So after blanching and icing cobs, unsheath the electric blades of glory to make short work of freezing corn. (Note the blurred electric knife action!)
I follow with a quick swipe of the paring knife to remove absolutely everything from the cob, spoon corn into ziploc freezer bags, remove the air and pop into the freezer for fresh sweet corn taste all winter long.
My electric knife is 1980s vintage, but after looking around to see if the knives have changed much, I came across this sweet little Black and Decker.
It may be time for an upgrade.
By Carol Clark
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
FINALLY, after years of begging my husband, countless relatives and friends warning us not to do it, and the nursery telling us during the spring and summer that our tree wasn't ready to take home yet.....WE HAVE A PEACH TREE!
Someday this tree is going to give us big, beautiful Red Haven peaches, enough to can and share with friends and relatives.... I hope.
My mother, whose father was a peach orchard farmer, told us she wouldn't wish a peach tree on her worst enemy. My grandfather always said, "if you have one, you might as well have forty."
Mom said they are too much trouble.
My husband didn't want a tree because he wants to turn our home into a rental someday. He has used this excuse for years and still we happily live in our little corner of the world. I finally convinced him by saying if we planted the tree we would surely find another home we wanted to move into.
Our tenants will let us pick peaches, right?
It was a feat just finding a nursery who would sell us a peach tree. There are only two in the valley that sell them. We purchased ours from Meadowlark Gardens. Apparently, nurseries are leery of selling peach trees to folks who won't take care of the them and end up adding to the problem of peach tree diseases in the valley.
We downloaded a book of information from the CSU Extension Service on how to prune and care for our tree. We studied the information and tucked it away for future reference and in the spring we picked our tree out of the batch at the nursery, where they said they needed to hold the tree until the root grew out to the pot. It is apparently illegal for them to sell trees until this happens. The heat came before it was time to plant so we had to wait until now to bring it home.
After planting the tree we watched our Netflix movie "Flipped." A great movie that shows just how much a tree can mean.
A man doesn't plant a tree for himself. He plants it for posterity.
- Alexander Smith