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
By Laurena Mayne Davis
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
What to do with all the odds and ends at the end of the garden? Shish kebab!
We cut up garden veggies, store-bought mushrooms — have to learn to grow these ourselves — and locally raised beef. A marinade of herbs, balsamic vinegar, olive oil and spices zested everything up nicely, with veggies and meat marinated separately.
Soak bamboo skewers in water so they won't burn and string veggies and beef on the skewers. A little time on the grill and you have an easy meal bursting with local flavor. (Note the skewers of just beef. We had a house full of teenage boys that weekend.)
By Penny Stine
Thursday, September 8, 2011
I started eight different types of tomatoes from seed, and at least one plant of every kind actually survived into adulthood. This has been a late year for my tomatoes, and so far, I’ve only been able to sample tomatoes from the Sungold Hybrid, Sioux, Jetsetter and the Viva Italia varieties.
I’ve picked a couple Kellogg Breakfast and Aunt Ginny’s Purple tomatoes, but the first few suffered badly from the dreaded blossom end rot, so I couldn’t put them to the taste test. I just picked my first Aunt Ginny’s that was free of BER. I hope to eat it in a couple of days after it ripens a few more days on the kitchen counter. The flavor is supposed to be comparable to a Brandywine, (which are truly exquisite tomatoes) but they're supposed to be a little earlier and more productive, which is why I tried them. They do have a purplish cast to them, with none of the tomato orange hues, which is also like the Brandywine. Most of the green tomatoes on the plant seem as big or bigger than the one in the pic, so that's another good trait.
My sungold hybrids were all in pots, and they produced pretty well until I compared them to those produced by my gardening buddy, Jan of the awesome garden. Each of my plants produced a few dozen fabulous tiny tomatoes. Each of her plants, which weren’t in pots but just left to sprawl somewhere in her garden, produced hundreds of sweet, juicy tomatoes.
Mine slowed down their production a few weeks ago, but seem to be picking up steam again. They’re going to be a repeat for next year – their taste is outta' this world. I may put a few in pots, but I’m definitely sticking at least one plant in the ground.
I thought I had a fail proof system for identifying the tomato plants in the garden – I tied different colored yarn to each cage to identify the varieties. That was a great idea, except I wasn’t consistent about where I tied the yarn and as the plants grew, I couldn’t find the yarn. I think this plant is either a Jetsetter or a Sioux tomato, both of which were fairly early and produced nice-sized tomatoes.
In a taste test, my husband and I agreed that the Jetsetter were sweeter, but the Sioux had that tangy tomato taste that makes such good sauce. The Jetsetter were extremely prolific and I didn’t lose a single one to blossom end rot, which always seems to plague my tomatoes. For that reason alone, I think I’ll go with Jetsetter again next year.
I tried to train the Viva Italias to climb up the trellis my husband built for me. As July turned to August, I found it harder and harder to nip side branches off the main tomato vine. The result is that these tomatoes aren't climbing as high on the trellis as they could. They do seem to be producing a fair amount. I lost the first few to blossom end rot, but the later ones don't appear to suffer from it - which is fairly typical of the disease. They're quite tasty, too, so I'm fairly certain I'll order the seeds again.
None of the Royal Hillbilly or the Virginia Sweet varieties are ripe yet, but the first Virginia Sweet is starting to turn. It's a bi-color tomato, so I'm not sure how to tell when it's ready to pick. The tomatoes are all enormous.
Once I've tasted the Aunt Ginny's Purple, Kellogg Breakfast, Royal Hillbilly and Virginia Sweet, I'll share a review of those.
Yay for our long growing season, which is going to give many of our green tomatoes time to ripen. My brother in Wyoming is expecting a frost any day now. It's good to be in the Grand Valley!
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Labor Day marks the ending of summer and a new autumn season beginning. The weather is starting to get cooler. Last night was the first night I slept with a blanket all night without kicking it off.
Our tomato plants have finally been producing enough for our family, but not quite as much as we had hoped for, so we took a trip to Rettig Farms on Orchard Mesa to pick some tomatoes. They have a "You Pick" field that is full of delicious red ripe tomatoes. You can pick a twenty-five pound half bushel bucket for only $5.50. They will have tomatoes until the first freeze if all the green tomatoes are any indication.
We brought our tomatoes home, scrubbed them and turned them into vegetable juice. It was a little disappointing to realize 25 pounds of tomatoes, celery, parsley, onion and carrots and four hours of hard labor only turned into only EIGHT QUARTS of juice. I told my husband we could do another batch, but he had enough of all that fun.
Next Monday night brings the full harvest moon. If it's not raining, spend some time at the fire pit enjoying peach cobbler and the last of summer evenings.
By Penny Stine
Thursday, September 1, 2011
I planted walking onions two years ago and have been unsure about what and when to harvest. We used the greens when they were young, I’ve dug up a couple bulbs, but I know you’re supposed to leave some in the ground if you want them to walk again the following year.
So I left some in the ground. Look what happened:
I think my walking onions are confused. I think I should have also dug up more bulbs around this particular plant.
A couple years ago, my mom gave me garlic seeds from a rogue garlic plant that was taking over Nebraska, which I liberally scattered in a couple places. I also planted garlic from bulbs last fall and have already harvested (and used) most of them.
Meanwhile, the plants that started from the seeds didn’t get very big and didn’t grow much of a bulb, so I ignored them and just let the greens die down. I think they started over:
Obviously, the garlic and onions think it’s spring. I hate to crush their dreams with the calendar, but it will be interesting to watch and see what these little plants do over the winter.