Tales of the Gardenatrix

Plant a Garden, Go to Jail

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Tue, 12 Jul 2011 06:15:13 PDT

Mind you, I do believe in civil disobedience for the right reasons. I just never thought that a few veggies in the front yard might be what gets you cited, particularly in the days in which even the White House has a victory garden.

As this family in the Oak Park suburb of Detroit found out, I thought wrong. Please do take a moment to read, particularly if you also have edibles in your front landscape. And then think about how you might want to support these folks.

One would think the Detroit area might have more pressing things to worry about than a few veggies in the front yard. Perhaps it's time for an Edible Estates education there?

PS: I should be clear no one's going to jail over this - it's just a citation. But riffing on the old "Ride a Skateboard, Go to Jail" meme was too tempting . . .

The Limits of Scavenging

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Sat, 25 Jun 2011 09:54:51 PDT

M. F. K. Fisher used to write about cooking with the wolf at the door, back in the days of war rationing. I used to read Fisher in my first year of college, in those very broke days in which I would eat homemade rice pilaf while reading stacks of cookbooks from the college library. Her stories of cooking in very small apartments resonated, as I cooked downstairs and washed up in the dormroom bathtub. By comparison, even Fisher's wartime rations and scavenging efforts seemed lavish, and I came away from her stories with a new sense of "can do" spirit, not to mention a life-long love of nasturtiums.

Perhaps it was reading Fisher at such a formative time, but I find myself falling back on my own style of rationing and creative cooking as I ride my own little periods of feast and famine. I am very prone to periods of stocking the pantry up, followed by periods of obsessively working the pantry back down, and back again. Living in a studio apartment intensifies my lifelong obsession with the perfect balance.

No surprise then, that I found this article on running out of cooking fat from Salon's resident scavenger absolutely hilarious. Mind you, I do live in the city and it's largely my reluctance to buy butter at convenience store prices which has allowed me to get down to my very last 2 tbsp this week. But after a week of "I'd make biscuits, but . . . " I found myself laughing out loud.

Things like butter do represent the limits of foraging, I'm afraid, even in this new land of limitless wild fennel and nasturtiums.

Small Spaces Work

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Sat, 11 Jun 2011 20:20:39 PDT

Also, please check out this lovely post. I am delighted.

Small works!

And, small works because it is small, not despite it!

Change is Always Now

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Sat, 11 Jun 2011 20:15:50 PDT

Dear readers:

Much has happened since I last wrote.

First, and most relevant to my recent lack of writing: my house was forcibly broken into. I couldn't wish this on anyone. While my relatively frugal lifestyle meant I didn't have much to lose, it shook my confidence in a big way. I also lost my computer on which I was blogging, which meant: no more blog.

Somewhat later, I received a job offer in a new city. Which I've subsequently accepted, and moved for.

Much has changed. My former land in central Texas is now tended by a lovely friend. And I now live in extremely urban San Francisco, yearning to garden.

The plan is to kick-start this blog again. For my part, I intend to talk more about adventures in urban foraging, and eventually community gardening. A dear friend intends to write about her small plot on the beach.

And so: gardening continues: no matter how small nor transient the space. In the meantime, I grow herbs on a windowsill, and am grateful for the times I am able to connect with wild spaces, and the times I inspire.

May the alliances with the green ones continue to inspire you. I will be back to aid you, and them -

The Gardenatrix

Fruit Trees for Warm Climates

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Wed, 10 Nov 2010 04:06:21 PST

Want to dabble in permaculture? I can't think of a better first step than adding a fruit trees into the landscape. Whether you only have room for a few potted citrus and peach trees on a porch, or want to create a living fence or edible arbor for a large space, fruit trees are an easy way to grow a bit of your own food with minimal long-term tending.

Here in the South, the challenge is often getting the right fruit trees for the climate. Many fruit trees require a certain number of "chill hours" to know that winter has passed and it's time to start blooming. There is a range for each time of fruit, but beyond that a particular fruit can have a wide variation. Take apples, for example. The Israeli varietal Ein Shemer requires only 350-400 chill hours each winter, while most others require upward of 750. If you live in a warm climate and buy a varietal that requires too many chill hours, you will probably have a healthy tree -- but will only get fruit on perhaps the coldest of years. If you are in a cold climate and buy a low chill hour tree, the problem gets worse: you're likely to get beautiful blooms far too early in the spring, which will be levelled by a killing frost. Ouch.

Thankfully, most nurseries tend to cater toward the middle of the road, and have the higher chill hour fruit that most of the country needs. The best solution for gardeners in warmer climates is to learn your chill hours and buy accordingly. And when I say local, I mean: your neighborhood. Here in Austin, chill hours vary by as much as +/- 100 depending on what part of town you're in.

Big box stores often insufficiently adjust their stock for local needs, and I've even had trouble getting the best varietals for my particular part of town at my beloved local nurseries here in Austin, so you may need to consider buying online. Desert dwellers may want to take a peek at the Phoenix Permaculture Guild's online fruit tree sale, which continues through the end of the week, and of course there are a number of commercial online resellers. The important thing is to do your research, find the best spot for the tree, dig the best hole for that tree you can, and actually plant it. As the saying goes, the best time to plant a tree is ten years ago. But the second best time is now.

Tiny Houses!

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Tue, 09 Nov 2010 04:08:18 PST

I have very little time to write this week, so you'll need to get a peek at my random interests instead.

Here's one: Tiny Houses. For me, smaller is better. I adore Sarah Susanka's ideas behind the Not So Big House, but what I'm talking about is actually much smaller -- things like vardos, or the little, tiny, but exceedingly well designed Tumbleweed Tiny House Company designs.

I'm in love with houses which are perhaps 1/5th to 1/10th the size of my current 1,600 square foot home, which can live on a tiny footprint and may even be portable. Way back when I lived at Arcosanti, I lived in a string of such small houses -- from a small bunkhouse to an 8' x 8' cube to (finally! the piece de resistance!) a much beloved Airstream trailer alongside the Verde River under a grove of cottonwood trees. I was in heaven.

There are drawbacks, of course. There are only so many books you can fit in a tiny house, for starters. When I lived in those small spaces, I only managed by the grace of some very understanding family a few hours away. But there are advantages, too -- not least of which is these spaces are perfect for a strong introvert like myself who does best with a room of her own. Also: think of all the room you save for the garden! Not to mention the economic advantages of building well, but small.

Anyway - this is a long post for what was supposed to be a very short post. Now, I am off into the day, perhaps to daydream of a future with little, tiny houses!

Post Script: Just after I posted the link to this blog on my facebook, a friend shared another amazingly cute, hobbit-like cob house. Some people think baby kittens or sneezing pandas are cute? I'll stick with this house!

New Permaculture Documentary: Permaculture, the Growing Edge

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Sun, 07 Nov 2010 10:18:21 PST

It's no secret I love permaculture. (It was? Okay, it isn't now!)

It's also no big secret that I'm a bit of a leftie, and a bit of a poly-religious mystic type.

Put all these together, and (despite the fact that I adamantly believe permaculture is ideology-neutral) I have a soft spot for permaculture with a spirtual bent. Sharon Astyk's musings on the connections between homesteading and Judaism? Yes, please! The folks at New Life on a Homestead openly exploring their Christian faith? Yep! (And of course I have my own very sporadic spiritual and mystic musings over at Tending the Hearth.)

I study a bit of everything. But the modern thealogian (sic) who has had perhaps the strongest influence on my life is Starhawk. I devoured her writings as a young feminist, later affiliated with the Reclaiming tradition she co-founded, and am influenced by her work in ways that I probably am not even aware of. It was Starhawk who first got me thinking about the sacred as something which is immanent, an idea which permeates all aspects of my personal practice, including my practice of Judaism. And of course I've already declared her one of my Permie Heroes.

So, of course I'm delighted that this self-described "dirt worshipper" also teaches permaculture, in a way that integrates spirituality and activism. The good folks at Belili Productions are apparently impressed as well, and they have supported Starhawk's recent permaculture documentary Permaculture: a Growing Edge.

Permaculture: The Growing Edge is an antidote to environmental despair, a hopeful and practical look at a path to a viable, flourishing future. The film introduces us to inspiring examples of projects, including a visit David Holmgren’s own homestead, tracking deer with naturalist Jon Young, sheet mulching an inner-city garden with Hunters Point Family, transforming an intersection into a gathering place with City Repair and joining mycologist Paul Stamets as he cleans up an oil spill with mushrooms. We interview some of the key figures in the Permaculture movement, including David Holmgren, Penny Livingston-Stark, James Stark, Paul Stamets, Mark Lakeman, Dr. Elaine Ingham, Maddy Harland, and others.

Interested in seeing for yourself? Hop over to the Permaculture: a Growing Edge website to check it out and view the trailer!

Intro to Small Scale Permaculture: Thinking in Systems

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Sun, 07 Nov 2010 06:18:52 PST

I promised sometime back to write more about permaculture principles over the winter. A lovely post today -- ostensibly not about permaculture -- brought me back to that idea.

What is permaculture? Is it just another eco fad? A kind of organic gardening? Something about back to the land?

My personal definition is that permaculture is a systems theory for living which integrates agriculture and human culture. Permaculture is to gardening what urban planning is to architecture: a way of thinking about the elements of a design in a larger, more integrated context which allows for the creation of synergies and minimizes waste. Any time we allow for more sustainable systems within a design -- by digging swales to retain water, for example, or planing more perennials or integrating small scale livestock to eat garden pests -- we are increasing overall yields while at the same time minimizing the need for the gardener's intervention and future work. We are, as the businessmen like to say, working smarter not harder.

So, back to that example I mentioned. Over at Simple, Green, Frugal Co-op it's Batch Baking Day:

On the day when I need to make bread, every 5 days or so, I also bake one or two pizzas, a main dinner dish ... and often a cake or some cookies, too. I slip in odds and ends, too, like the stray potatoes that I keep finding in the garden after we harvested the main crop, or the hot peppers that I'm drying out before grinding them to make chili powder.

I bake in a batch to conserve electricity . . . But I also like this system because grouping all my baking in a batch is a more economical use of my time.

Yes, yes, yes! That's it in a nutshell. Planning and design ultimately allow us to get more nomnoms with less effort. Yes, that might mean a lot of effort all at once -- I am not sure I want to be doing the dishes on Baking Batch Day! But ultimately all that effort pays off in a week full of lazy days and delicious food. That's a systems theory I can really chew on!

Getting My Daylight Back Where I Wanted It

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Sun, 07 Nov 2010 05:00:43 PST

Oh, today is glorious! It is early, and I am here saying hello to the sun which has beaten me to rising. I have light by which to do my household tasks, and it is early enough to even garden a bit before work without doing so by the porch light.

Frankly, I would like the government to pay me interest on all that daylight they were saving for me.

I should note that I was born, raised, and spent the first part of my adult life in Arizona. Arizona is known from many cranky things, it is true -- but it is also known for one quite sensible one: Arizonans see no sense in 'saving' daylight. They have plenty of it as is, and are willing to spend it while they have it. Yes, this means sunrise at 4:45 in summer, but that's . . . well, sensible. Light but not heat yet. And farmers just roll with it, driving their tractors in the early mornings and ending the day in the heat of the afternoon. Working in agriculture, my grandfather had this schedule his whole life. Because of this, I'm not even sold on Daylight Saving Time having an agricultural benefit -- at least not one that's universal to all regions.

So, it's pretty obvious I'm not partial to Daylight Saving Time. I've never been accustomed to it, I don't see the sense in it, it doesn't make sense for even agriculture in very hot climates, and I get cranky every spring when I lose my precious morning sunlight.

How about you -- particularly the smallholders and farmers out there? Do you like Daylight Saving Time? What do you get out of it?

First Freeze

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Fri, 05 Nov 2010 05:24:39 PDT

We had our first light freeze last night, and baby it's cold outside!

Inside, I've retrieved a lap blanket for my sitting, the little space heater from office closet, and have wrapped a kitchen towel around the hand drip coffee pot to keep it as warm as I can. (It may be time to go back to electric drip coffee for a while, but I honestly prefer my hand drip!) The kitties are huddled in their little breadloaf yoga poses, and step onto the kitchen tiles reclutantly as I try to coach them onto the rag rugs to keep their little feet warm.

It's not quite cold enough to worry about any garden plants, but probably is getting to the time I should pull the potted fruit trees into the garage.

I am extraordinarily grateful to have two kinds of soup on standby. Now, to coax myself away from this little pocket of warmth and off to get ready for the day . . .

Of Slow-Cookers, and Tortilla Soup!

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Thu, 04 Nov 2010 17:16:32 PDT

Tonight, I entered the house to the most amazing smell!

I'd started dreaming of tonight's dinner at work, content to know that much of the hard work would already be done. I hadn't quite decided yet what do to with my prepared slow-cooker chicken yet, but was leaning toward enchiladas. On the drive home, I got some sour cream to add a decadent touch.

Having cooked for about 11 hours on low, the chicken was falling off the bone tender, and the veggies very well cooked. I opted to make tortilla soup. While it's finishing, here's a quick recipe for two - three servings. More people? Layer in more stuff! The recipe is extremely forgiving.

Get thee a slow cooker
Add five garlic cloves, minced
Add one onion or two shallots, diced
Add one quartered chicken leg
Sprinkle with salt and pepper
Add kernels from one corn cob, a diced small zucchini and sliced poblano or bell peppers
Salt and pepper again
Add about a cup of liquid or frozen veggie stock

At this point, you can proceed with slow cooking, or refrigerate up to 12 hours. When you are ready, put the slow cooker on low setting, and cook for 8 to 12 hours. Enter your home to the most amazing smells. Then . . .

Remove chicken leg(s) from the slow cooker, take meat off the bone, and coarsely shred
Set meat aside for a moment
Add 1 tbsp cumin and 1-2 tbsp chile powder to the broth in the slow cooker
If you like, and you're not keeping kosher, add a few tablespoons to a half cup of sour cream to the slow cooker and stir in -- the amount depends on how decadent you feel
I also added a bit of leftover bechamel sauce, but it's not likely you'll usually have this!
Add the shredded chicken back into the slow cooker and stir well. Season to taste with salt and pepper as needed. If you are me, add some Louisiana-style hot sauce like Red Devil, because without hot sauce, it's just not soup.
Cut 5 corn tortillas into halves, and then strips. Add to the slow cooker.
Bring back to a simmer long enough to heat through.

And then, I suppose, write a blog post while anticipating your yummy dinner.

Mmmmm, yep! That's enough blogging! Time to eat!

Living Frugal: When Not to Buy in Bulk

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Thu, 04 Nov 2010 05:58:37 PDT

Lately, I've been rethinking my lifelong habit of buying in bulk.

If this does not sound like a big deal, you are lucky enough to never have been shopping with me! Shopping with me involves several neurotic steps: writing a list of general topics, getting to the store, revising the list significantly based on what's on sale and what coupons are available, and then squinting through my oh-so-sexy trifocals at that 8-point font stores use on the shelf fronts to tell you the per unit price.

Then there's the mental math: so, if the 32-ounce jar of spoo is $0.30 per ounce and the 8 ounce jar is $0.34 per ounce, which should I buy? Will the extra 24 ounces go bad before I use them? And so on. (At least I don't pull up Excel on my phone! Yet.)

These habits didn't arise in a vacuum. I learned much of this watching my dad shop, and honestly it was one of the best things he ever taught me about money. In my adult life, I've almost always lived with other people and cooked for a family or a crowd. On that scale, buying in bulk makes a lot of sense.

Lately, though, I'm rethinking this, for a few reasons.

The catalyst was a post at Get Rich Slowly. (Sadly, I can't find the article now that I'm looking for it, but you should read them anyway!) Coming back from a European vacation, J. D. suggested that his household might be best buying like he said many do in France -- keeping a relatively empty fridge and buying as things are needed. Given the proportion of my meals that come from gardens and farms -- and take up all the real estate in my fridge -- this made sense to me.

I began thinking, too, of my trend toward unprocessed foods. You have to hand it to processed foods: they last longer. But even the 'long term storage' items on my list -- such as rice and cornmeal -- are more likely to go rancid the less processed they are. It might make sense to buy white basmati rice by the 10-pound bag if you use a lot of it. But unless you're cooking for a co-op, it's unlikely you'll go through a 10-pound bag of brown rice before it begins to smell 'off'.

While these ideas were important, the clincher for me was the math. The same tendency toward doing the math finally led me to a blinding flash of "Duh!" As a rule, it makes no sense to buy in bulk while I am paying down a substantial amount of debt.

Right now, I am paying off umpteen thousand dollars in credit card bills and loans that I ran up in more profligate times. I already have a fairly aggressive payment strategy, and have started exploring snowflaking as a way to accelerate the paydown by making multiple small payments as I save up a bit throughout the month. (More on that in future post.) Because I am basically putting every penny that I do not spend to paying off the debt monster, by extension every penny I spend is a penny I remain in debt.

So back to the grocery store. Let's run a few numbers on that 8-ounce and 32-ounce jar of spoo.

Let's say my highest credit card debt is at 17% (insert your number here).
Again, we need to run the assessments on bulk buying -- if I buy a bigger jar or package, but most of it goes to waste because I can't use it before it spoils, it's no bargain.
Assuming the larger portion makes sense from that perspective, I need to compare the per-unit prices again. My 8-ounce jar of spoo is $0.34 and my 32-ounce jar is $0.30. Is the 32-ounce jar a bargain?
The math says . . . no. Not unless I need more than 8 ounces of spoo right now. When I multiply my 32-ounce jar's per unit price of $0.30 times the interest I will pay on my debt, I get a per ounce price of $0.351. Bad spoo!
Because I'll save $6.79 by buying less spoo right now, and I have no long-term benefit from buying more spoo, I'm better off buying the 8-ounce jar I need and applying that snowflake payment to my debt.
Mitigating factor #1: Let's say my highest-interest debt was only 10%. Then, my break even point would be $0.33 for the smaller vs. larger jar -- much more reasonable.
Mitigating factor #2: Let's say the Super Jar o' Spoo only cost $0.24. Well, golly - that's a spoo bargain regardless of my debt monster! 32-ounce jar it is!

Obviously that's a lot of math to do in your head -- but once you have the principles down, it's much easier to make a relatively accurate guess in the aisles. With no Excel sheet. I promise. Just think: every dollar I spend is $1.17 (or $1.10, or whatever your interest rate is) and the math gets pretty simple. If the eyeballed premium for the smaller package is less than 17 cents on the dollar, anyone with carrying debt with a 17% interest rate should by the smaller package. As you pay off the debt and attack lower interest rate debt, adjust accordingly.

While doing this math, wild fantasies of your amazing future debt-free life are strongly encouraged.

Stay frugal, my friends.

A Chicken in (Almost) Every Pot

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Wed, 03 Nov 2010 18:24:20 PDT

I've been in a pensive mood today. The weather is blustery, and the holiday and election seasons intense for pretty much everyone. The solution? Classical music and cooking, of course.

At the grocer's on the way home, I bought a few supplies. I joked with the butcher about the 'recession special' chicken leg quarters for $0.69. He said they were flying off the shelf today, and quipped that everyone at the (natural foods) store was probably panicking: "OMG! Must buy chicken before the new party outlaws it!" Or something like that. Still, it was a bargain -- especially for the only one leg this near-vegetarian could feasibly eat in the next few days. That, some chicken livers, a bit of dairy, some probiotic corn tortillas and I was set.

I haven't been cooking up quite the storm I anticipated, but I'll be set for tonight, tomorrow night, and a few lunches.

For tonight, a butternut squash & white bean stew with rosemary is simmering on the stove. I had to make something with the butternut squash beginning to take over my pantry shelves, and with a few minor modifications, Jack Bishop's recipe was perfect -- butternut squash, alliums, a tomato out of the freezer, a can of cannelinis, a bit of my homemade stock, a Parmesan rind, and some rosemary snipped straight from the front porch. Perfect.

For tomorrow, I've set up a slow cooker chicken recipe for that quarter chicken leg: a few shallots and garlic diced in the bottom of the cooker, topped with the chicken leg, a few cubes of my frozen veggie stock, and then some peppers, corn cut fresh from the cob, and a diced half-zucchini that needed using. Tomorrow morning, I'll take the pot out from the fridge, set it in the slow cooker, and be set for tomorrow's dinner, and then some. (I may, in fact, use the contents to make enchiladas with those lovely probiotic tortillas. Time shall tell!)

It's been a few years now that I've acquired produce entirely from my garden, CSAs or farmer's markets, and I have to say it's entirely changed my approach. I start from what I have, and build meals around that -- not the other way around. For other edibles, I save a fair amount of money by only buying what's abundant, and therefore on sale. Because of this, my eating is tied pretty closely to the seasons. Tomatoes in fall and winter are a treat, for example, and have their limits -- choosing one for my meal tonight means not having one later in the winter. Over time, I've become far more synced with the seasons -- an added blessing.

I'm pleased to have a few meals in the works all at once. Despite the cold and the changing of the seasons, I feel blessed with abundance. A bit of classical music, a simple stew at home: when the winds blow cold outside, these are blessings of the season. I'm still okay with a chicken in every pot. Including, on odd days like these, my own.

Fall Gardening: Home-Grown Salad Bar!

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Wed, 03 Nov 2010 04:56:15 PDT

In most of the southern US, it's not too late to put in a fall garden. Seeds will generally take more time to germinate in cool weather, but will reward you with low-maintenance plants that you can eat all winter long.

Seeds/bulbs to plant now in the South (or in a protected greenhouse elsewhere):

Alliums: Garlic, chives.
Greens and herbs: Spinach, lettuce, chard, parsley, cilantro.
Legumes: Peas.
Roots: Beets, carrots, turnips, parsnips, radishes.

It's too late to plant them by seed, but it's also not too late starts for the cole family: brussels sprouts, broccoli, kale, cauliflower and the like.

Gardenatrix tip #1: Get a mesclun salad seed mix or two that you really like. (Organic, heirloom seeds? Yes, please!) Define a small salad patch in the garden - for urban gardeners, a windox box will do. Sprinkle seeds on a couple of feet every 3-4 days until you've planted the whole patch. Cover on the coldest of nights if you want. (I rarely do.) Keep the patch well moistened as the seeds germinate, and re-seed any patches that don't come in well. Look forward to having baby greens for a lovely Thanskgiving salad -- and with a bit of protection, all winter long.

Gardenatrix permaculture tip #1a: To get the most out of your salad garden, place it as near as possible to the kitchen door. If you can easily get out to snip a few salad greens without getting your house slippers wet, you've found the ideal placement -- and are more likely to harvest early and often. If your garden plot more than 15 feet from the house, you're unlikely to give your garden the care it needs nor get from it the yields you want. Save those more distant plots for plants that are harvested less frequently.

Gardenatrix tip #2: Beet greens make an amazing salad -- more delicate than chard, and easier than lettuce, these greens make a great replacement for romaine or leaf lettuce either on their own, or along with some of that mesclun. Plant a row or two of beets, and as they grow in use their leaves as cut and come again salad. Once the beetroots are to the size you prefer, you can harvest and eat the beetroots with a bed of their own greens. Yum!

The Cool Season

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Tue, 02 Nov 2010 04:41:36 PDT

Different places have different seasons.

I'm not talking about the big obvious ones, like the fact that my readers in Australia are entering an exuberant spring. I'm talking about the somewhat less obvious ones, the little macroclimates and microclimates that exist with my own country and probably most countries.

I've just returned from coastal California, where the temperature varies little throughout the year but the rains dictate several mini growing spurts. In those parts, the best answer on when to plant something is probably always: last month.

Here in Austin, we are entering the cool season. This is the best time to plant most perennials and trees, which will benefit from the cooler temperatures and relative lack of water stress to put down their best roots. It's a great time to subdivide many perennials, and also to plant cool-weather annuals, like most leafy greens. In fact, it's nearly the only time to grow proper lettuce successfully.

In my own garden, the little arugula starts are popping up their green heads over the soil, hopefully to be joined soon by beets and a mesclun mix of lettuces. Germination is slower in the cold, but once established these plants tend to do well with a minimum of fuss. I look forward to having a salad bar just outside my own front door.

What are the seasons like where you live?

Frugal Cleaning Tip: Herbs!

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Mon, 01 Nov 2010 07:31:00 PDT

If you're a gardener, you probably have some fragrant herbs around.

If you're living in modern times, it's likely you have a garbage disposal in your sink -- probably a bit less fragrant.

Herbs like to be pinched back, and garbage disposals like to be sharpened and cleaned. Hmmm. That's what we call turning waste into a resource! How about giving that long-haired basil, tarragon, mint, or rosemary (non-woody tips only, please) a trim and running it through the garbage disposal along with some ice cubes and a bit of salt?

Happier herbs, fragrant kitchen, happy gardener. Done!

Stock Day, Revisited

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Sun, 31 Oct 2010 08:16:35 PDT

About six weeks ago, I wrote a post on taking stock, and making it in the context of my own little war on waste. It's stock making day again, and I'm contemplating what's changed.

It feels like I've wasted less this month. October: Unprocessed has definitely played a role in that, as most of what I'm eating has come straight out of the CSA box, my garden, or bulk items from the co-op. With the exception of the CSA box, little of that can go bad. (And if I'm very clever indeed, none of it must.) Given that, I also had far less to make stock with, but that's okay -- I'm still working through the stock I made in September.

I did throw out about a half-week's worth of leftovers and a half-loaf of quick bread due to poor planning on my part around my trip. That could have been avoided with better planning.

I also notice a few items which have outlasted the October: Unprocessed challenge -- mostly frozen vegetarian "burgers" and "meats". I'm not anxious to go back to my previous reliance on those, but at the same time I do plan to use them. There's no reason to waste them outright, and -- given that they are frozen foods -- I can't easily give them to the food bank as I did some of my condiments.

I'm also pleased that I've done a much better job of getting value from things I too rarely use: those candles, bath salts, teas and whatnot I've made so much of this weekend.

Not least, I managed to take a much-needed weekend trip without totally busting the budget. That counts for quite a bit!

I'm not at the point where I feel like I'm winning the war on waste, but at the same time I no longer feel like I'm waging war in a fallow field. I haven't necessarily increased my resources, but I've increased my resourcefulness. Of the two, that's probably more important.

Making Do (Pt. Deux)

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Sat, 30 Oct 2010 14:45:24 PDT

Frugality is not deprivation. If it feels that way, perhaps there is a way to change it so it does not.

Today, I've challenged myself to a buy nothing / go nowhere day. So far, I've had great tea, eaten a homemade Japanese breakfast, taken a hot epsom salt bath, lit lots of candles which I too seldom use, lollygagged reading, taken an actual nap, and am now cooking up a green bean casserole with corn bread topping* -- with the added bonus that the oven is heating up my chilled house a bit.

Mostly, I've been extracting actual value from those things I tend to horde and not use: pleasant incenses & candles, shitake mushrooms, instant espresso, epsom salts and the like.

I have had to be a bit creative. The breakfast called for dashi -- a condiment made with kobmu seaweed, which I don't have on hand. But a bit of the liquid from soaking the shitake mushrooms suited just fine -- and more of the same made a great addition to the liquids for my casserole. No milk on hand, either, but the dried milk in the cupboards not only made a great substitute but really needed to be used anyway. Running out of honey for the cornbread, I turned to a bit of the barley malt I bought when starting October: Unprocessed. Easy, easy, easy: and in each case returning value to something that might otherwise be wasted.

When I am at my most frugal, I don't tend to feed deprived. Instead, I feel as if I am encouraging myself to get the most out of what I already have. There's a strong comfort in making do, a realization that I have more wealth and more resourcefulness than I often realize. At the same time, I realize that the money I don't spend now on things I really don't need is money I have in the future to build the life I want. There's no downside, really.

*From the The Rodale Whole Foods Cookbook: With More Than 1,000 Recipes for Choosing, Cooking, & Preserving Natural Ingredients -- a cookbook that is again becoming very near and dear to me!

How have you used frugality to indulge yourself?

Challenges, and Eating Outside the Box

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Sat, 30 Oct 2010 09:47:28 PDT

This weekend, I have given myself a personal challenge: to hunker down, make do with just what I have on hand, and avoid spending money or gas until my one appointment outside the house tomorrow.

As the old saying goes: "Use it up, wear it out, make do, or do without."

As part of the challenge, I'm working my way through the CSA box and trying to be rather creative with it. Hence I'm soaking some shitake mushrooms (which I too rarely use) in preparation to make Japanese scrambled eggs with shitakes and bok choy for brunch. Yum!

Naturally, I ran out of coffee right after formulating my challenge, but even that's been okay. As it turns out, I have instant espresso powder which I bought long ago for a trip and really need to use up. It's not nearly as good as the Americanos I was drinking in North Beach, but it's not bad either.

Best of all? If I get through the things I need to do today, I've promised myself a nice rummage through all my bath and body treats for an afternoon spa day, which I might not otherwise have considered. As always, the best part of a challenge.

October (Mostly) Unprocessed

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Fri, 29 Oct 2010 17:36:14 PDT

I am entering the last weekend of October: Unprocessed, and I remain profoundly grateful for its gifts.

Tonight, I am eating a local meal that is 80% from my CSA box: a Southwestern stew with local green onions, zucchini, corn, and bell peppers with some red beans, cumin and chile powder. Simple and perfect for tonight. Lately, these are the meals I want.

I can't say I was 100% faithful, but I'm actually surprised and pleased at how much the 'kitchen rule' held. I gave myself a bit of a free pass for my recent weekend trip, but didn't use that as an excuse to binge. I did eat a bit of white-flour pasta and a fair amount of good (but white) bread in North Beach (because, really: it was North Beach) and ate a few lovely desserts for which I didn't question the white vs. raw sugar. And of course there was dim sum, at which I really didn't bother to question anything. Because: dim sum. At the same time, I ate fewer chocolates than one might, and tended to opt for meals (like a lovely peasant butter-bean meal at a Greek restaurant) that I might otherwise have missed.

My biggest binge, if you will, was actually today at a company event. There was queso (a Texas concoction mostly made of Velveeta) and Halloween chocolate, and I had a bit of both. So, not 100% faithful.

That said, I think the month's changes have impacted me in ways that I couldn't expected.

To wit: I gave myself a great deal of license in San Francisco, which I really didn't take. At the amazing Swiss chocolatier I was very satisfied to have a small nibble of my darling companion's chocolate with marzipan; I didn't need entire chocolates, and didn't eat them. Mostly, I chose unprocessed meals: the amazing Greek butter beans; a fantastic breakfast polenta with gorgonzola, honey and natural bacon; pasta with seafood. Oh yeah, and that dim sum. I have no idea what was really in that . . . !

Also: I found that I have eaten more meat this month than I probably have in over fifteen years. I'm not sure what that was about, but I followed it where it lead -- eating meals of liver and mushrooms in mustard sauce, that lovely bacon in North Beach, and two different meals of cassoulet. At first, I resisted it. (I was vegetarian for 14 or so years, and still keep to mostly veggie meals.) Midway through the month, I resigned; my body was clearly trying to tell me something, not that I'm sure what it was.

I did end up losing a wee bit of weight. I'm not sure that was my intention, but it's true. More importantly, I had a really good excuse to look at some of my patterns and seek to change them, and picked up some new skills that I will carry forward. Who knew I could bake bread, or make cookies, for example?

Speaking of which . . . perhaps I should make some cookies . . . !

Gardening in Small Spaces

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Thu, 28 Oct 2010 04:30:47 PDT

I am back from a quick weekend jaunt to the San Francisco area, and settled back into my warmer, muggier clime. As per usual, my attention was drawn to the different flora in the Bay Area. Or, as one friend put it as we walked along the beach: "You're looking the wrong way!"

I'll cop to that. But the Pacifica hills were filled with their own quiet majesty and really held their own against the beach. I loved noticing the differences in the growing patterns of the lantanas, chard and nasturtiums I also grow at home, and was even more excited to see plants like sea kale I'd only read about before.

The other thing that struck me is how truly blessed I am to have an entire suburban lot to cultivate. In the city, I watched as people gardened in whatever small spaces were available: small city parks, extremely steep backyard hills behind Victorian townhouses, planters and window boxes. I was delighted to look up in Chinatown and see a potted satsuma and other plants up on one building's fire escape. I was assured that there is nearly no space which cannot be gardened on some scale, at least in theory. (What the city will allow is often another matter.)

Next trip: more community gardens. I'm looking forward to it!

How do you garden in small spaces?

Growing Your Own

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Wed, 20 Oct 2010 19:33:38 PDT

Originally posted at Eating Rules.

I can't help but approach October: Unprocessed through my passion for organic gardens, edible landscapes and permaculture. For those unfamiliar with the latter term, permaculture is the application of simple design principles which allow us to more easily care for people, care for the earth, and share the surplus.

I believe the simplest way to eat more natural, unprocessed foods is to have them around -- and the easiest way to have them around is to grow them ourselves, as close to the kitchen door as possible.

With that in mind, here are a few suggestions for bringing your own organic produce to the table well beyond October.

Redefine convenience and comfort foods. As a kid, I spent a summer with my sister in Iowa. Surrounded by cornfields, I ate corn raw off the cob. So simple, so good! In my grandfather's garden, eating carrots fresh from the ground was a treat. Kids who hate vegetables have often never been in a garden; vegetables are yet another packaged thing they "should" eat -- and don't. But let them pick their own fruits, visit farm stands, or tend a garden and something magical happens -- they build a lifetime relationship with real food, eating it with pride and pleasure.

These childhood memories anchor me when I'm tired, hungry, and too busy to put much thought into dinner. A thriving garden becomes the ultimate in comfort food. I can end stressful days with a stroll through my backyard, picking vegetables for a garden-fresh salad or stir-fry. Along with a bit of cheese or steamed whole grains, I can put a quick, satisfying meal on the table with minimal effort.

Start small. An intensively-planted four-foot square plot is more than enough to supplement the food needs of a small family, or feed a single adult. It's also small enough to manage for most families. Mel Bartholomew's approach of Square Foot Gardening provides a simple, easy to follow set of guidelines for gardening in four-foot square beds. Once you've got the hang of the technique, it's easy to expand your garden one small bed at a time.

Plant what you love to eat. This point seems obvious, but home gardeners sometimes plant what they think they "should" eat instead of what they like to eat. A small garden, intensively planted with vegetables and herbs you already enjoy, ensures that your efforts are rewarded.

This is particularly true if you prefer heirloom or gourmet vegetables. Vegetables like asparagus and artichokes can be costly at the grocery store, but these perennial plants are easy to grow as part of an edible landscape, and will continue to produce for decades with minimal care.

Keep the garden in plain view. Permaculture's integrated design principles suggest a series of zones for planting: herbs and frequently-harvested veggies planted closest to the kitchen door, production gardens and compost heaps slightly further out, and so on. If you can quickly dash out to snip a few fresh herbs or salad greens, you're more likely to have them on your plate. If your garden is on the far side of your property, you probably won't bother.

Obtain a yield, early and often. Harvesting frequently is best for taste and nutrition, and generally best for your plants as well. Leafy greens such as chard, kale, collards or leaf lettuces will reward you with new, tender greens throughout the growing season if cut back frequently. The same goes fruiting plants such as tomatoes, eggplants, and beans as well as herbs like basil, thyme, and oregano. And we all know to harvest zucchini well before you can use it as a baseball bat! (Better yet, harvest the squash blossoms for a frittata, and laugh at the grocery store prices.)

This is another great reason to start with a small, intensively planted garden. When all those plants start producing, long rows may yield more than you can use. Planting a variety of vegetables in a small bed results in a useable yield.

Avoid waste. If you have more than you need right away, employ easy strategies to avoid waste. Tomato glut? No need to can. Just freeze the extras in a freezer bag, and pop a defrosted tomato or two into stews, soups and sauces all winter long. Too much basil? A batch of homemade pesto frozen in an ice cube tray will yield summery tastes year-round. And don't forget: vegetable trimmings make a great foundation for unprocessed soup stock.

Add edible landscaping. Feeling more ambitious? Add edible landscaping. Cordoned apple trees can help shade a sunny southern wall, while yielding a perfect fall lunchbox snack. Training grape vines or hardy kiwis up a pergola can create a shady spot to sit on summer evenings, not to mention a snack at your fingertips. These plants take a few years to bear fruit, but your future unprocessed-eating self will thank you!

Share the surplus. The best part of tending a garden? Having extra fruit, vegetables, seeds and plants to share with friends and neighbors. So set the table, invite your friends, and share the pleasure of home-grown, unprocessed meals year-round. Bon appétit!

Tea Season

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Tue, 19 Oct 2010 04:51:39 PDT

The weather is cooling. For weeks, I've opened my windows to let in the cool evening air. In the morning, I wake to the scent of damp earth and make my morning commute through dense fog.

This means, of course, that we are also entering tea season.

I love tea of all descriptions: oolong and green, black and proper brewed chai with milk. Those, I buy boxed to make throughout the year. Oddly, I love herb tea but rather hate the stuff that comes in boxes.

Thankfully, this the season of homemade herb tea.

Apple mint alongside the grape arbor.

This time of year, the herbs -- like the gardener -- recover from a summer slump. There is an abundance of mint: apple mint, orange mint, chocolate peppermint, yerba buena, and various others that I've probably forgotten. There is bee balm, bergamot, lemon verbena, lemon balm. There are sprigs of rosemary and fennel to add to tea or cool drinks. On days when throats are sore and gardeners are brave, there is an abundance of horehound, slowly reproducing itself along the fence line.

Fennel, horehound, cactus and native wildflowers in the fey garden.

Yes, I love tea in all seasons. But there is something very special about this time of year, when I can put on the kettle and wander out into the garden in the evenings pinching a bit of this and that for a custom cup. This damp earth, these fragrant mints, are the scent of my Texas autumn.

Sharing the Surplus (Revisited)

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Mon, 18 Oct 2010 04:28:59 PDT

As gardeners in other regions are putting up their tools for the season, I'm finally kicking into gear after a long, hot summer. On Friday evening, I bought a small dill, a basil and a society garlic. A friend who ran into me at the store asked, "But don't you have a garden?!" True, but dill and basil get very fussy in the heat and don't over-summer well. Because of that, I bought these replacements for the strawberry pot outside my front door.

On Saturday morning, I updated the strawberry pot with dill and basil tucked throughout and the society garlic making a big spray on top, and turned my attention to the bed under the kitchen windows. It's now been planted out with some beets, mesclun mix and arugula which should keep me in salad all winter.

Later in the afternoon, a friend came by to get some subdivided plants. We managed to hack our way through the 'bad' side of the backyard I'd allowed to go fallow. It was pretty amazing overgrowth -- not just the weeds, but the ways in which the blackberries were growing in from the periphery as the grapes clambered out over the fig and mountain laurel trees to meet the berries.

Underneath this new canopy of vines, I again found that plants which usually struggle to survive the summer here -- such as strawberries and cardoons -- had made it through just fine. Tomatoes left to their own devices will trellis themselves rather well. And peppers, given a bit of sun, will go from nothing to full production in two weeks.

I also learned concretely what I'd suspected -- that the 'bad' side of the yard, which was not sheet mulched before my break, was a complete pain to restore compared to the good side. Two hours and a weedwacker later it was nearly there, but it wasn't fun. Next year, it will be far more worth it to invest two or more hours in the spring to properly sheet mulch those paths with thick layers of cardboard and decomposed granite for the paths, as I'd done on the other side. Lesson painfully learned.

Speaking of painful, my friend managed to take four "unauthorized" blackberry plants home, which he'd harvested with his bare hands. I'm profoundly grateful, not just for the help in hacking back through the food forest, but also because his visit made me get around to some things I'd been putting off during my busy spell. Sharing the surplus helps everyone, all around.

October Unprocessed: The Midway Point

noreply@blogger.com (Gardenatrix) — Sun, 17 Oct 2010 10:36:37 PDT

We're a bit over halfway through the month and I've been both pleased at how well it's going and surprised at the things I am learning about myself in the . . . pardon the pun . . . process.

In the first week, I reacquainted myself with the pleasures of baking, and learned how important it is to have a few easy foods around like whole-grain tortillas and yogurt.

Last week I learned: why yes, you can overindulge even though it's unprocessed. Just because homemade cookies and red wine are legit doesn't mean you should go overboard. I also learned a lot about how easy and hard it is to get real, unprocessed foods from restaurants and takeout -- especially when someone else is choosing the menu. Most local restaurants are fine, but a certain local chain and I have radically different opinions on what a cheese sandwich on whole wheat really means. Ugh.

I also learned more about listening to my cravings. I started craving liver about a week into the challenge, which was very odd. I was vegetarian for 14 years, and still eat very little meat. Every time I went into the store, I looked at buying liver and didn't -- until two nights ago. Two nights of liver sauteed with shallots and mushrooms in a mustard cream sauce later, my mineral levels feel much more balanced. My body was telling me something very clearly, and was happy that I listened. Well, then.

This weekend, I've been taking my own advice and revitalizing my own home herb and salad gardens just outside my front door. Also, at this very moment, Bob's Red Mill Dark Rye Muffins are cooling on the kitchen counter.

I've been mindblowingly busy, but I am managing to eat 95% or more unprocessed this month. That's not a bad thing.