Sure, if you live in California, Texas or Florida winter gloom is no big deal for you. You can run outside and pick fresh lemons from your own lemon tree this time of year. The rest of us have to grow citrus indoors to harvest our own.
The smell of fresh lemons actually boosts our mood. Truly. It's a scientific fact I read somewhere. Laura is enjoying some Lemony Pie made with Meyer lemons. The recipe is in my new book, The Kitchen Garden Companion, due out in the fall of 2010. Stay tuned.
I have been practicing a little alchemy in the kitchen. My grand experiment involved sugar and fruit with the goal of vibrantly tainting the white crystals and adding flavor. It began with a quest to add a little oomph to the lavender sugar sprinkled on my homemade shortbread. The fragrant dried lavender flavor was wonderful it just needed some color. Heaven forbid I should use food coloring- I rummaged through my refrigerator for inspiration.
I started with a secret combination of butter, sugar and flour for the shortbread. While it was cooling I sprinkled on a concoction of lavender sugar- mashed up blueberries, sugar and dried lavender flowers. Blueberries turn sugar a nice shade of purple. Pomegranate juice colors sugar pink. Finely grated lemon, lime and orange peels are another option. To experiment with your own colored sugars, add just the tiniest amount of liquid to get the desired hue and then let the crystals dry overnight at room temperature before sprinkling on cookies or cakes.
Ahhh, so what is actually growing under the cloches in my garden? What has survived the winter into mid February? Gala mache seems to be the winner. Late fall I planted a few varieties of cool season greens. I sprinkled some spinach, kale, arugula, dandelion and mache seeds on the soil, pressed them in then covered with some glass cloches. I shut the gate to the garden for the season and just peered out the window every now and again. The dandelion is doing ok but the green, rosebud lettuces growing close to the ground are thriving. This lettuce is tasty and so fun to eat on this cold day.
A photographer can put it so plainly. What do we see? What do we see out our windows. I have been contemplating this question all week. And looking. I have been looking out my window. And seeing. I have been seeing how everything changes with the time of day and with the weather. So Photographer David Perry - thanks for the fun assignment. You see it fits so well with my philosophy as a garden designer. The garden should be right outside the window for us to enjoy. Even in winter.
OK. I cheated on this image. This is not the view out my window. This is the view toward my window. In the midst of my enthusiasm for seeing and photographing I put on my boots and walked outside in the snow. Maybe that's the purpose of really seeing. Engaging just a bit.
Just for spite I am going to run out to the garden in the midst of the storm and find out what is growing under the cloches. Of course, I already know what's under the glass cause I planted the seeds. What I hope to find is some green tiny leaves of kale. And in protest of winter, I will eat the precious greens with snow falling on my face. But not now.
Winter white root vegetables with strange shapes. Rutabaga, turnips and parsnips. What do you do with them? My friend confessed she grew up eating rutabaga. She described it as a poor man's potato. Her mom boiled it then mashed it with butter, milk, salt and pepper. Just like mashed potatoes. I tried it and agreed with her childhood memory, it wasn't disagreeable. Here's a better idea.
Peel and cut the vegetables into small pieces. Place in a roasting pan. Drizzle with good olive oil and coarse sea salt. Roast at 400 degrees until the vegetables are just turning brown on the edges- about 30 minutes. Serve immediately. The oven brings out the sweetness of these winter vegetables- they were really quite good.
So now you see it. I have taken over the dining room. My sons took over my office as they temporarily moved in, then moved out... leaving their belongings, clothes and boxes. Do you have grown children? So, I gathered and moved my work space to the place in my house that has the best light and still overlooks the garden.
The book that I am currently working on for Timber Press, Seasonal Harvest, is a monumental project of writing, photography and watercolor painting. It's much easier for me to work in a visual way- that is, everything I need in plain view; I've strung up the photos across the window for sorting, organizing and inspiration. Here are some of the images from the Fall chapter. I took the photo just before dusk last night. It's a great way to work. I'm smiling as I type.
Thanksgiving day in the middle of winter. In Ohio. What could I possibly glean from the cold kitchen garden? Surprisingly, a few things.... the first to harvest will be the sage. Perfect for the stuffing. Perfect for the turkey. Salvia officinalis 'Berggarten' does well in my garden. The gray leaves stay evergreen, well ever gray-green all winter. The last few years I have enjoyed harvesting this culinary sage on Thanksgiving and Christmas.
Under my glass cloches are varieties of kale and mustard. (The truth is these seedlings are growing outside of the cloches too!) I like the decorative element of the glass so I'll pretend it's necessary. A baby kale salad is on the menu. It will be simple. Greens + a bit of olive oil + a drop or two of balsamic vinegar. That's it.
There are a few beets remaining in the garden. I'll dig up the red 'Bull's Blood' heirloom variety. Come to think of it the beets would go well in the kale salad...
I'm heading to the garden now. Gotta make the stuffing and get that turkey in the oven....
'Arnold Promise' witch-hazel is one of the last witch-hazels to bloom in the spring. I am enchanted by this plant- here blooming in the early spring when the daffodils are just beginning to appear but otherwise winter color lingers. Some varieties of witch-hazels bloom as early as late January and early February in the Midwest. Yellow goes in and out of fashion; some years I determine to eradicate it from my garden but lately I like seeing the color of the sun. A precious site in late winter in Ohio. Prune a few branches to bring indoors for the table.
Winter in the Midwest without a greenhouse means that for snippets of fresh herbs and fresh lettuce I must grow under lights. It is a very easy process. I bought an under the counter grow light, mounted it under my corner kitchen cabinet, attached a timer and wa la .... a dark underused space is now producing fresh herbs.
I started with oregano, thyme and shiso; I find that lettuce and basil also do well indoors. I would suggest that you water every other day. The combination of the dry indoor environment and the everyday light causes the soil to dry out rapidly. So my kitchen garden is now literally a KITCHEN GARDEN; right next to the stove .... fragrant oregano for the spaghetti sauce is now inches away.
