Edible plants Ideas, Tips & Guides

DESPITE THAT 1940s Harry Truman-ism, “If you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen,” that’s exactly where harvest time sends us, especially if we grow our own edibles. Who better to ask for inspiration now than Deborah Madison—often called the Julia Child of vegetarian cooking? Listen to our conversation (my newest podcast) about her latest book, “Vegetable Literacy.” Along the way you’ll get wisdom on her must-have garden herbs; a recipe for her versatile, rich-in-a-good-way Romesco sauce; and even Deborah’s unexpected secret weapon for gopher control.Madison’s massive 1997 volume “Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone” (Amazon link) is probably on your shelf, or should be, and this year she published her 10th cookbook–another comprehensive, beautiful must-have. It’s arranged not in the usual manner (appetizer to dessert) but taxonomically, by plant family.  (Remember my story about it, and her recipe for cauliflower pasta with red pepper flakes and more?)

All of it will be grown organically, starting with organically farmed seed, like in her family farm and home garden (below).  “Our seed system is brittle,” says Theresa, who farms in Fullerton, North Dakota, on the cusp of Zone 3b and 4a. Not brittle in the way a perfectly dry seed must be to store well over the winter for next season–but brittle as in ecologically and politically fragile, and potentially broken.We’ve all heard: Years of industry consolidation by a few big corporations has reduced the d

ICOUNT TOMATO GRAFTING AMONG MY NEWEST OBSESSIONS. I know, I know; did I need another obsession—and particularly one that offbeat? But after a season of widespread tomato troubles and my generally leery feelings about counting on a plentiful crop from heirlooms in particular, why not considering turning to grafting for an edge? Growing a desired though perhaps less vigorous variety on tougher rootstock has been the trick in many crops (think roses, fruit trees, and many other ornamentals). Tomatoes, it turns out, are no exception. Into the world of grafted tomatoes we go…

YES, IN THE BEST-CASE SCENARIO, preparing to save seeds starts with decisions about what variety to plant in the first place, and rouging out weak and then “off types” that don’t measure up, or conform to the desired traits of that particular tomato or squash or zinnia. Inferior or atypical? Out you go!It’s a process that is repeated throughout the life cycle. For instance, you might pull the lettuce seedlings that are slowest to germinate from your row or cellpack; later pull and eat any with off-type foliage, and perhaps even rogue a third time if some individuals prove more inclined toward disease than others. Only let the best and brightest go to seed and provide the genetics for next year.Want to guard against inadvertent cross-pollination? A chart in the OSA’s guide clarifies what crops are vulnerable (and what close cousins they can cross with—such as carrots with wild Queen Anne’s lace, or that many brassicas, such as Brussels sprouts and kale

Now I have a third way to put up my annual bounty of parsley (the first two are here): three “bunches” will go into each batch of “Parsley Soup” that Thomas says is like “a rustic leek and potato soup that’s been taken over by a gang of parsley, but in the nicest way.”A double batch of “Green Soup With Sweet Potatoes and Sage” (top photo, in the bowl on the right) is already in my freezer; a whole section of “green soups” (using leafy greens as a key ingredient) is a particular delight, since I seem to have mastered their growing this year and have more than I thought I could ever otherwise use.T

WHEN I CALLED Rose Marie Nichols McGee after much more than a decade, it was like we’d just hung up moments before. “Do you still grow Phlomis?” she asked without missing a beat, referring to a mint relative I’d loved early on in my garden’s life, a former Nichols Garden Nursery purchase I’d almost forgotten (since I’d eventually killed it, oops). That’s OK, she said; it got tricky here, too. The nursery, with more than 60 years selling herbs and much more—one of the first places I ever shopped as a gardener—is Rose Marie and her husband, Keane’s, family business (that’s them above), and they’ve seen lots of plants come, and go, and come around again. With a gift-certificate giveaway and an herb-growing Q&A, meet an old friend and some great new and old plants as well–and learn tricks for growing them.

WHAT WE CALL STONE FRUITS all grow on trees in the genus Prunus, and have a hard, stony pit inside them (their seed), with fleshy fruit around it—unlike so-called pome fruits (see below).Apricots, cherries, nectarines, plums (and therefore prunes), and some interspecies hybrids of the above, like plumcots and pluots, are all stone fruits. So are peaches (like the ones in the 1940 harvesting photo by Lee Russell, in the Library of Congress archive, top, or just above in the print from Boston Public Library’s).And then there’s the trick-question one, the stone fruit you think of as a nut. What’s that?Almond, of course: Prunus dulcis.What’s a Pome Fruit?I KNOW, IT’S STONE FRUIT WEEK, but hey,

I want to introduce some oddball varieties I like to grow (like ‘Chinese Red Noodle’ and ‘Scarlet Runner,’ both shown above), and tell you what I’m planning to do with that Hefty-bagful of the more typical green bean types that I just harvested. (No, not 10 Pyrex baking dishes full of Grandma’s Green Bean Casserole with cream of mushroom soup, sour cream and butter-soaked Saltine crumbs and melted cheddar, though I am definitely tempted.)Do you grow beans like ‘Royalty Purple Pod’ that are easy to spot on the vine when harvesting, but cook up green? Or slender filet beans, the haricot verts or filet beans of French cooker

MY LIST OF HOMEGROWN INGREDIENTS FOR THE THANKSGIVING TABLE starts with the bumpy, oddball makings of a centerpiece. Gourds (like the warty or Bule ones), though delicious to look at, are more decor than dinner, but I did grow many edible parts of the harvest feast this year: sweet potatoes (which I’ve cooked with you here before) and Brussels sprouts and white potatoes and winter squash and green beans—and come to think of it, there might be something on the menu made with my apples, too, and garlic and parsley and sage and…well, you get the idea.

Scapes are the leafless flower stalks produced by hard-neck garlic—but I cut them off before they bloom, which in theory is meant to direct the plant’s energy into making bigger, better bulbs versus blossoms.It’s also meant to make for some delicious lunches and suppers. But here’s the surprise: Garlic scapes aren’t garlicky, but rather sweet with just a hint of what the plant they came from will soon become flavor-wise. They’re very easy to incorporate into recipes.A friend oils the

Q. I am worried about another outbreak of late blight, after 2009’s epidemic. Can I do anything to prevent tomato disease? Q. What are those giant green caterpillars on my tomato plants? Q. My tomatoes flowered but didn’t set fruit. What’s up?Q. My tomato plants are sick or the fruit is disfigured (or both). Help!

WEDNESDAY’S SNOW IS TURNING MY HILLY WORLD TO ICE; the day was so short as to be unforgivable; the forecast calls for 11 degrees F tonight, the second such low in a row. No matter, though, because in my imagination, at least, I’m having grilled tomatoes with a wildly handsome red fox, thanks to Hudson Valley Seed Library’s killer seed packets, like the one above. Got anybody who could use a smile in their holiday stocking? Take a peek at a few more:

It wasLia Babitch of Turtle Tree Seed, a biodynamic supplier situated in the next town to where I live, who recommended the snowpea called ‘Schweizer Riesen,’ which translates as Swiss Giant. She told me that this Swiss heirloom was one of Turtle Tree’s original offerings, and produces lots of paler but sweeter-than-average pods (below, in the photo next to an open pod of ‘Mayfair’), with various other tasty parts: purple blossoms, tender foliage and tendrils—something delicious and distinctive to add to your salad even before you have a single pod to pick. What a generous plant! (5-to-6 foot vines; 70 days to maturity, but enjoy trimmings much earlier.)When

IF YOU THINK OF PARSLEY AS A GARNISH, plant a seedling or two and be done with it. To me, parsley is a staple ingredient in salads and pestos, red sauces and soups, and egg creations like frittatas (and so much more).

CHARD: ‘Bright Lights’ may be the beauty-contest winner, with runner-up going to ‘Rhubarb’ or ‘Ruby Red,’ as it is variously called. But I’ll forego the flash and just sow ‘Argentata’ from here on out, I think.  A prolific and durable grower, ‘Argentata’ gets to as much as 3 feet tall (2ish in less fertile conditions) and produces lots and lots of giant leaves with gleaming thick white midribs.  Apparently this heirloom goes by another name in Italy, ‘Bionda á Costa,’ where it is also a favorite. Fedco has my favorite chard, and many others.KALE: Kale is one of my dietary mainstays, an ingredient in many soups here and a frequent side dish (both things are true about the the chard as well). Last year, I grew four kinds, but I won’t again, especially not the frilly  ‘Winterbor’ type or its lookalikes (above left), my un-favorite (though productive and cold-hardy). I simply don’t like its texture, so I am giving my kale real estate to the heirloom I sti

T HERE IS SO MUCH GOING ON it’s hard to know where to focus the eye, or the camera. And then I remembered: mid-May is when the indescribably beautiful, subtle “other” peonies bloom: the species peonies, real spring shade-garden treasures. So up the hill I went, up into one of the shrub borders above the house, to say hello to Molly the Witch,Paeonia mlokosewitschii.

Each of her 150 recipes is delightfully prefaced with what amounts to its provenance: a juicy and sometimes hilarious back story that Clark tells in as simple yet deft a fashion as the style of the dish that follows. I sat right down to chapters like “Better Fried” and “It Tastes Like Chicken” and “My Mother’s Sandwich Theory of Life,” the perfect mix of a good read and a good meal.For me—a flavor-fearing kid who rinsed most of her entrees off at the sink conveniently positioned halfway between the Garland range and the family dinner table—Clark’s childhood tales are positively hair-raising: Summer vacations were spent touring France with her psychiatrist parents, gourmands determined to eat at every Michelin-starred restaurant there. Worse yet (or to Clark, more thrilling): Th

At first, I thought this would be a post for beginners, but realized even experts are over-indulgently inclined. Some over-riding principles: I buy organic seed when available for my organic garden, and seek out regionally appropriate varieties. Here’s why, in detail.For me, resisting buying everything requires an annual review of the basic mathematics of vegetable gardening. Now (not after 11 boxes of seeds arrive that you forgot you ordered) is the time to crunch your own numbers:How many of A, B and C plants can fit into my Y square feet (and for what cost in

Peter is one of the world’s master bread-makers, and the author of six books on bread baking, including multiple James Beard Award winners such as “Whole Grain Breads,” “The Bread Baker’s Apprentice,” and “Crust and Crumb.” He is a baking instructor on the faculty of Johnson and Wales University in Charlotte, North Carolina, and has even delivered a popular TED talk on the subject.So when was the last time you baked bread—which to my taste competes with homemade soup as the ultimate comfort this time of year, when we gardeners head mostly indoors for the long wait? I interviewed Peter Reinhart on my public-radio show for inspiration on the best-tasting, healthiest ingredients—including some that are gluten free. The transcript of our chat follows:‘bread

Like all the seed farmers I’ve interviewed in this series (past links at bottom of page if you missed any), the Uprising Seeds team speaks of the mission, and meaning, behind what they do. It’s long, hard work—you have to believe to take it on.“Closest to our heart, and the main reason we do this work, is our celebration of the idea that access to open-pollinated seeds and the freedom to grow, reproduce, and share them is a basic human right that empowers community, tradition, and diversity,” says Uprising co-founder Crystine Goldberg (with Brian and their son in the photo up top). “And that the opportunity to select for those traits that are unique to individual climate and growing condition

WAIT—DON’T GET SEDUCED, or at least not by seeds, not quite yet. Try to resist that inevitable catalog binge at least until you inventory what’s left over, and still viable, from last year’s stash.

UNLIKE MANY VEGETABLE CROPS we grow to eat—which are typically picked young and tender, and therefore grown for a shorter time—the same plant cultivated for a seed harvest must be grown to a much older age, requiring much more water, fertilizer, and chemical controls against pests and diseases.Seed crops are coddled, and regulations on chemical usage when raising them is also looser than on growing the same vegetable for the food market.Besides the pollution and waste of resources this results in, it fails to do something else really important: It yields seed strains that “expect “ this kind of pampering—not ones that are well-adapted to organic growing conditions in our home gardens, where we (hopefully!) don’t rush in with a chemical at every turn of events, or prop things up on synthetics instead of diligent care for our soil.Read More:

MELISSA CLARK IS ONE OF US. The prolific cookbook author and “The New York Times” food columnist has a homegrown Dahlia (her young daughter); knows a rutabaga from a turnip (so many people don’t!), and is intrepid in harvesting year-round farm-and-garden gleanings—if not in her own backyard, then in Brooklyn’s Grand Army Plaza Farmers’ Market, where she has been a year-round customer for years, come hell or ice age. With her latest, “Cook This Now,” the hard part will be figuring out which of 120 recipes to start with. Win one of two copies I’ve bought to share—and get her recipe for Carroty Mac and Cheese right now.

My mathematical equation starts on paper around June, like this:1. Make a list of what you want more of (or a first crop of, if it’s a warm-season thing or if you simply didn’t plant an earlier crop).2. Make a list of things that have gone by or will soon, to assess real estate that you can utilize. In early to mid-June my lists looked like the one below; yours may be very different. My July and August list–for my latest s

This year, I’m late, late, late—and I’m conveniently blaming circumstances beyond my control. After frozen ground in April, no rain for three-plus weeks in May, and a June of incredible deluges, some of my best-laid plans aren’t looking so swell. Maybe you’re in the same situation. With all the upside-down spring weather that made headlines around the nation, I suspect it’s not just me who fell “behind.” There’s still time for a positive outcome.Ken (below, saving tomato seed), founder of Hudson Valley Seed Library catalog and an organic seed farmer, joined me on the public-radio show and podcast to talk about planting for late summer into late fall harvest (think: pea-shoot salad, a succulent fresh batch of basil and more), and about seed saving.Read along as you listen to the July 13, 201

She is someone I have often heard called a mentor and inspiration by some of my most respected garden friends, especially in the Pacific Northwest. No wonder, because Corvallis, Oregon-based Carol Deppe–also the author of the popular book “The Resilient Gardener”–is pragmatic, but also scientific in her approach, armed not only with precisely the right hoe for the job but also with a PhD in biology from Harvard and a long background in plant breeding.Read along as you listen to the March 30, 2015 edition of my public-radio show and podcast using the player below. You can subscribe to all future editions on iTunes or Stitcher (and browse my archive of podcasts here). We talked about choosing vegetables to grow in combination (and when some crops are most productive and easiest grown alone); about strategic steps to avoid late blight

You may recall I posted about these collapsible, heavy-duty, supersized strokes of genius a few springs ago, when I started A Way to Garden. Since then, I see Texas Tomato Cages have become more widely available…but just in case you missed the news, a little reminder. They come in two diameters, and with or without second-story extensions that can have them tower as high as 6 feet. (And no, I don’t get a commission; I don’t even know the manufacturers. I’m just a satisfied customer.)Those are some of the 24-inch wide lower halves set into place (photo above), with one of the (folded flat) tops leaned beside the bed; below are five tops piled together awaiting action, so you can get the idea of what I mean by “folds flat.” Once you put the top portion on, the cage is above eye level, by t

I‘M WORKING ON RESTRAINT over here, trying not to order every single thing I scribbled on catalog covers and Post-it’s I stuck all over them the last two weeks as I browsed hungrily on the first pass.

Most seed will last a couple to several years—but there are disclaimers to even that general a statement. As living things, seeds are perishable, particularly if not kept cool and dry (such as in a tightly sealed jar in the refrigerator or freezer). Humidity, in particular, is death to seeds.Treated and pelletized seed will also have a different shelf life from seed in its natural state. The condition of the original crop the seed was harvested from will also, of course, affect its perishability.The years of viability in my chart above, then (citing Fedco and Johnny’s Selected Seed catalogs, and the Iowa State and Virginia Tech extensions) are averages, not guarantees—and all presume responsible storage tactics (not that you

I AM A PROPONENT OF GROWING YOUR OWN; you just have to check my freezer and pantry the last couple of decades to see that. But a vegetable garden is not without its costs or its commitments—cash and elbow grease both required, and then some. Vegetable harvests, like money, don’t grow on trees.

Though some herbs stand up through the first frosts (like parsley and sage), I’m packing them away now in various forms in the freezer (that’s what all those plastic bags are: herb stashes, usually as cubes or dense rolls of leaves I can slice off chunks of later. My tactic. My herb-freezing career began with garlickly green ice cubes of traditional sweet-basil pesto, like the ones above. I make eight ice-cube trays full. I could keep winter squash around in storage here in the house for months, and I will with some of the most beautiful fruits. But I bake a lot of them now, cut in half or smaller on rimmed cookie pans, skin side up, and when the flesh is tender then puree and freeze it, meaning I’m more inclined to grab a portion for supper than if I have to start from scratch that night. Pureed squash is also great in soups and even on pasta or brown rice, or at least here it is.(Question: I have a bumper sweet-potato crop; anybody ever mashed and frozen those?)Gooey green-

I actually have no certain diagnosis; so many of these issues look somewhat alike, unless you are a plant pathologist, and so far I only have a relative few affected leaves. I nevertheless love Cornell’s diagnostic tool, a photo-driven system arranged by plant part (leaves, stem, fruit).What I do not seem to have, thankfully, is the late blight that’s been the source of the most dramatic headlines, and of a thorough story by Adrian Higgins of The Washington Post, late last week. This dramatic outbreak has also prompted warning bulletins from Cornell and other extension services. My plants have none of its characteristic early sign: dark stem lesions.This is the affliction (affecting tomatoes and potatoes) that caused the 1840s Irish Potato Famine, and it has never been recorded this early in the United States, apparently, nor this extensive

I AM ON THE ASPARAGUS DIET, because that’s what the garden has to offer at the moment: beautiful spears of tender asparagus. I like them tossed in olive oil and sea salt and roasted till nearly crispy, but sometimes I want not a side, but a meal, and here’s my favorite one: Easy Asparagus-Parmesan Bake, a fast concoction that’s not quite a quiche nor a frittata, but does involve a nice fresh egg or two.

Maybe it’s Mercury retrograde that has me (a Gemini—one of the signs most heavily influenced by the antics of Mercury) plum tuckered out; maybe it was just this strange season of lots of wet and no heat. Maybe it’s the book I’m 200ish pages into writing that needs to be 300. But don’t worry; I’ll make it to the finish line on all fronts. I’ve been on an amazing new diet with my sister and my best friend that’s making a big difference. Onward; but first a little walk together, yes?Click on the first thumbnail to start the show, then toggle from slide to slide using the arrows next to each caption. Enjoy.Categoriesannuals & perennials bulbs edible plants slideshowsTagsMargaret Roachmargaret roach garden

But these days I lay in a supply in the freezer, too, following safe, sane methods—no, you cannot just pack it in oil and refrigerate! My tactics for growing, harvesting and enjoying a year of garlic. Both softneck and hardneck types are welcome here, by the way—dare I ask which camp you’re in? Like any bulb, garlic is a little particular about above-ground storage conditions. Once it’s fully cured, commercially grown garlic is stored in the dark at about 32 degrees and 65 percent humidity, and depending on the species and variety, may last six months or even longer. (The ideal range often recommended for gar

I paid a visit this summer to historic Beekman 1802, the rural residence of my ex-Martha Stewart colleague Brent Ridge and his partner Josh Kilmer-Purcell, also known as “The Fabulous Beekman Boys” from the Planet Green reality show and from the popular memoir “The Bucolic Plague” that Josh published last year about their city-to-country transition.For the Beekman Boys’ latest project (do theyever stop?), the cookbook team included another old friend, Sandy Gluck, former food editor of Martha’s “Everyday Food” magazine and one of the smartest cooks I know. The result: a happy combination of fresh-from-the-garden ingredients, including many heirlooms, that Brent and Josh grow at their Sharon Springs, New York, farm or purchase nearby, combined into well-written, practical recipes that invite me to try them. No crazy-long lists of ingredients; no daunting step-by-steps, thank you.