Growing with plants

Summer Lilies and, Yes - Time to Think About Ordering Bulbs

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Sat, 25 Jul 2020 18:46:00 +0000

'Bell Tower' is an appropraite name for this 'Downward Facing" Orienpet lily. This young bulb will grow into a giant in just a few more years, towering over 6 feet tall. The large flowers are very pendant, hanging nearly vertically down.

While I've always appreciated lilies in the garden for much of my 45+ years of gardening life, I only recently -in the past 10 years or so,, began seriously investing in lilies as a statement plant. What I mean is, now I buy a dozen or more bulbs every summer (as this is the time to order lilies from the few specialty lily nurseries in North America) and plant them in the late autumn once they are dug and delivered.

I am attracted to downward facing lilies (rather than upward facing), and Asiatic lilies like this come in all three ways: Downward facing, outward facing and upward facing. 'Ariadne' is a downward facing one, and it looks like Japanese lanterns in the evening garden.

A vase of trumpets and Orienpets on our windowsill - yes, the fragrance is almost too strong to take but I tolerate it for as long as possible as I do love that Noxema-Toothpasty scent. It reminds me of hot and humid summer nights.

Lilies add immense value to a garden especially if they are massed together in a bed or as a large clump. I think most of us start by adding a bulb or three to a flower border, which is fine but the truly spectacular show comes when one plants a dozen or more in a space. Then the show becomes more like an incrediblly beautiful shrub. Thinking of lilies in this way, makes them even more useful.

I like to plant taller, mid and late season varieties amongst the hydrangeas where they seem to thrive with their feet shady and cool, but their tall stems tower up 6-8 feet tall. Not all lilies are tall of course, but I tend to favor tall mid to late season trumpets, Orientals and Orientpets (crosses between the two divisions).

A couple of newer orienpets a year old just begining to grow into larger plants in my new border.

While the dreaded Red Lily Beetle (Lilioceris lilii) plagues many of us with lilies in the northeastern US, it has yet to cross the entire country (an import from the UK), it looks like a lovely lady bug, but is devastating to nearly all lilies especially early in the season. Here in central Massachusetts, some of us are noticing a decline in Lily Beetle, but I';ve been assured that some neighbors still suffer with it. Picking them off like Japanese Beetles and placing them in a jar of soapy water seems to be the only trick to keep them at bay, but I am hedging my bets that our low population recently might have something to do with parasitic wasps being tested by researchers from the University of Rhode Island.

Martagon lilies are different than most other garden lilies in that they have thick, waxy petals and foliage that appears in whorls around the stem like stacked umbrellas. It's a bit more fussy in that it demands excellent drainage yet moisture, and grows best where nights are cool. In our garden it seems to be a favorite of the Red Lily Beetle, but with some prudent hand-picking in spring, we seem to be holding our ground.

So many gardeners romance about their earliest memories of lilies - those we often called 'tiger lilies'. While many use the name 'tiger lily' for the tall, black spotted orange blossoms with petals that curl backwards, some use the same common name for the common, orange roadside daylilly (Hemerocallis fulva), also an Asiatic import that has run rampant across much of temperate North America. Technically (or, botanically speaking) the true 'tiger lily' is Lilium lancifolium (once L. tigrinum), although just to confust things a bit more - there are plenty of orange lilies with black spots both native and non- native to North America in our gardens and woodlands. Generally speaks, it's Lilium lancifolium though that we all should be referring to as 'Tiger Lilies'. They are easy to identify from others as they form small, shiny black bulbils on each leaf (tiny bulbs), that help the plant form large colonies.

'Fusion' is a newer introduction - a cross between two species: The common easter lily L. longiflorum and the much more challenging California native L. pardalinum. I planted 8 bulbs 2 years ago and some are just beginning to emerge with more than a single bud per stem. It takes time for these, I think, to get established but it didnt help that our contractor trampled them while pruning the hedges.

Lilies fill a gap in the border. That time in mid-July until early August when the Dahlias and late summer bloomers take over. This also happens to be the best time to order lilies as they are shipped in late autumn. LIke all good things, the best ones sell out early so check often to see if new varieties are posted and order imediately. Martagons and Trumpets seem to go first, while the newer Orienpets also sell out quickly.

I often forget to order lilies until it is too late, which for the varieties most in demand can be as early as August, but generally speaking most lily nurseries have great varieties available right up until planting time. It's hard to point out a 'bad' lily however, for they add such value to any garden. Some growers post weekly specials near the end of the season, I like to look out for giant grower's bulbs (bulbs that are too large to offer at the regular price), as these can produce instant results like an 7 foot stalk with a couple of dozen flowers. These get posted late in the season sometime once bulbs are dug. I hate sharing my secrets, but there - I did. You're welcome.

A row of Orienpets at our local Lily Show at Tower Hill Botanic Garden a couple of years ago. Bring a notebook or photograph the variety name with your phone to make a wish-list, as a lily show is the best place to see the latest varieties or the most outstanding classics.

The Asiatic lilies (not to be confused with the Oriental lilies) are generally earlier blooming, hve upright flowers and typically have spots and a warmer color palette like brilliant orange, yellow, white and pink. They also tend to multiply more quickly than other lilies like Oriental, Trumpets or Orienpets which generally just have a bulb that gets bigger with each season, without division. A clump of orange Asiatics (with some varieties) can form a large statement clump in just a few years while a 5-8 year old trumpet or Orienpet that may have just a pair of blossoms on it the first season, may mature to an 6-8 foot stem not unlike a tree with 30 or more flowers on it.

If you can afford it (lilies are not that expensive) order a dozen or more bulbs of each variety. This is how one can create a great show in the garden and a larger clump is less likely to get trampled in spring. Also, a few may not survive so it's like an insurance plant to plant more.

A large specimen-sized bulb with two spikes emerging. This arrived last November and just in time, as our soil froze solid a week after planting.

A large clump of 'African Queen' strain, a strain of orange trumpet lilies similar to the antique strains once available that were planted last year just starting to mature. It will take a few years for these to reach full size, but once they do, each stem could be an inch in diameter and every plant could carry 20 or more blossoms. This is when lilies become real standouts in a garden.

These non-dividing bulbs I like to invest in and plant a dozen or two or three to make a spectacular statement in a border. Bulbs are often inexpensive (4-6 dollars each) so the investment isn't as bad as one may think. A dozen bulbs of these long-lived lilies can cost about the same price as a nice hydrangea from the nursery, but put on a show that few could ever imagine.

In the US and North America there are just a few specialty nurseries that only grow lilies or at least, focus on them. Most also breed lilies and I highly recommend starting with these sources as you'll get the newest varieties and often, the best. I should mention that while the term 'lily' is often used for many plants, "true lilies' are within the genus Lilium (while daylilies are not lilies at all, but are Hemerocallis - and there are plenty of specialty nurseries who breed and sell daylilies, I highly recommend supporting them too). The two live well together, and they both bloom around the same time of year.

For true lilies, the list is short in North America. The Lily Garden and B&D Lilies both in Washington state, The Lily Nook in Canada are my go-to sources for interesting lilies bred by breeders that are generally not available anywhere else or commercially. The way the bulb business works is much like the commercial perennial business, a few varieties are chosen that can propagate quickly and can ship well, as well as perform in the garden, and it is these varieties that eventually make it to Holland or other countries where they are multiplied (either through tissue culture or another method) to produce millions of bulbs either for the cut flower businesses or for distribution via the big Dutch growers. These are the few varieties that we find at most mail-order businesses and at nurseries, as well as at Home Depot or Lowes. The varieties arent bad, but they do tend to be more common, and older varieties.

A note on Tiger Lilies (L. lancifolium) , perhaps the easiest lily to grow as it multiplies quickly and can almost become invasive - for nostalgia's sake along, I grow a plot but keep it separate from my other lilies because there they can spread and not become a nuisance. Many people also call the "wild" orange daylily that often grown naturalized along roadsides in New England the Tiger lily, but again, it's a Hemerocallis species. Also, rather invasive and hard to get rid of if introduced into a garden setting.

I suggest learning as much about lilies (true lilies) as you can (I describe each of the divisions or different types of lilies) in my new book Mastering the Art of Flower Gardening (link on the right!), but it's not hard to learn the differences yourself. Joining a local Lily Society will help tremendously as well, or better yet - find a lily show in your area and go see (and smell!) all of the varieties, just don't forget to bring a note pad or your smart phone

Bill Noble's Spirit of Place Paints a Grand yet Personal Portrait

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Mon, 29 Jun 2020 20:08:00 +0000

Spirit of Place is the ideal book for any plant lover or even, the serious plantsperson.

While 2020 is turning out to be, at the very least, a rather stressful year for nearly everybody on our planet, at least it does seem to be offering us some very good escape mechanisms - mainly, gardening books. The most recent one to end up on my nightstand is "Spirit of Place' by Bill Noble (Timber Press, 2020). While Timber Press wrote and asked me if I would review this book, I should say that it is a book that I would buy anyway for it checks off most of the boxes I look for in finding a book to get lost is.

It's a bio-book, or a diary book about a New England garden. What I mean is, this book is about real people and their garden triumphs and failures. Love that.
It's readable - loaded with relatable challenges and solutions, many of which are inspirational (so expect dog-earing and pencil notes - I always do that).
It's beautifully designed and illustrated with stunning photos. As a graphic and visual designer myself, some books are that are poorly designed can be distracting. Also, the cover and paper stock are of high quality. Sort-of rare today, in a world of cost-savings and shortcuts. I appreciate that too.
The author is someone I want to know. (Frankly, I should as he is practically a neighbor and we probably know many of the same people and shop at the same nurseries). I have no idea how he had slipped under my radar - unless, if he is like me, sometimes another career can keep one equally as busy?
This is written by a true plantsperson. I can imagine some publishers saying, "Let's try to keep this book more mainstream and thus, relatable to our audience, many of which are beginner gardeners...". Not here. Bill fits into the same category as a Dan Hinkley or Ken Druse - rare plants, hard-to-find Himalayan plants, alpines, primula- it's all here, and they should be. After-all, do cookbooks or other special interest books shy away from rare or hard-to-find spices or products? Today, rarely do they. Serious plantspeople often journey through all of these passions. Yet, even the novice gardener will enjoy (and learn) from this book.

Spirit of Place should delight most any gardener or those who dream of being. It paints a portrait of a garden that was essentially created to become or grow into a destination, or better yet, a home. After all, isn't that what a garden should be? Gardens are personal portraits of life. They are added to, or subtracted from often for decades (at least the good and interesting ones are). They are lived in, tweaked, edited, and improved over a lifetime, thus growing more impressive every year. Gardens are about visioning, reality, dreams, reality, collecting, curating, displaying, and often failures that only begged to be challenged once again until one masters it.

Bill has let plants lead many of his designs. From borders with Himalaya plants to grand landscape expressions that complement a massive view. He seems to have created a very special and personal place in the mountains of Vermont, and I am pretty sure that he is not done just yet.

Bill Noble's garden is in Vermont - my favorite state, so there is much in here that makes me envious and maybe even hope that someday I will move there (although it is getting late!). His approach to an old farmhouse on a hill is not only a great story (he and his partner trying to fit odd yet relatable criteria into what house would be perfect - in this case, a grand piano needed to fit.) But what appeals to me most is the overall narrative for it's one so many of us plant-people have journeyed on and often still are on.

Spirit of Place is just that. Loving where you live, and making it better with plants, friends, and shared life. It follows in the literary footsteps of some of my favorite and influential gardening books - A year at North Hill by Wayne Winterrowd and Joe Eck, or any of the Thalassa Cruso books. If you often read those, then this book is for you.

Springing Forth Against All Odds: Rare Annuals, and A Garden Update

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Wed, 20 May 2020 03:39:00 +0000

My new border garden is about 60% complete, but like all good garden designs, development takes time. This urn is temporary until I find the right (and affordable) object to center the design, and the walks still need to be set in (gravel, peastone and cobblestones) but even incomplete, it's already looking nice.

In the kitchen garden, straw lines paths as onion seedlings interplanted with plugs of mesclun start the season off with quick growing greens reducing trips to the supermarket.

Mesclun washed, and chilled is crispy and tender when it is fresh and home-grown. I've been sowing one plug tray every week, setting out the plugs 8 inches apart after three weeks which allows just a pinch of seed to mature with enough space and light.

This time of year while it is still cold at night and cool during the day, tropical plants that will become large specimen plants outdoors in the summer are being potted up. I like to mix unusual plants with more common ones, always planting single species in each pot rather than mixed containers which have become so popular. This Iochroma is a nightshade shrub with brilliant violet tubular trumpets in clusters from mid-summer through autumn. A cutting planted now will grow quickly.

This is a typical discovery in the greenhouse this time of year - black walnut seedlings that squirrels sneak into pots every autumn. It's amazing to see how well they hide them! I found this one in a begonia while I was pinching back all of the red snapdragons.

If you look back in the blog about ten years, you'll see my obsession with an obscure bulb (corm) from South Africa called Rhodohypoxis. I traded many cultivars and crosses with friends years ago, but then lost all of my collection to mice one winter while they were dormant. A few months ago while shopping for some new varieties I came across this one named 'Matt's White' sold at Far Reaches Farm. Apparently a friend shared a number of my selections with them years ago, and this while one was chosen for it's short growth. It may be a named cultivar but since that provenance is questionable, they named it for me! (for now). Maybe someone will be able to ID it soon.

My new book Mastering the Art of Flower Gardening was published in March, and while my speaking tour has been cancelled or postponed indefinately, you may find it useful for some of your flower gardening projects. This chapter on annual poppies, for example, is one that seems to be popular and useful for those interested in alternative ways to raise the pretty and tender annual poppies.

You may remember my experiments with sowing the annual poppy P. somniferum 'Lauren's Grape', which is so popular with many serious gardeners but impossible to find at garden centers, and truly a species best sown direct in late winter. I wanted to test alternative ways to raise these often challenging poppies. My early discoveries reinforced that the seed germinates best at 70° F, in a greenhouse or under bright lights, but then what does one do? Here are my results.

Now, three months later my single-sown seedlings that were once so tiny in their 4 inch pots, have grown into lush rosettes. Slower than a few friends of mine who were growing them as well in Vermont, I was able to alleviate their growth rate by raising the nighttime temperatures from 40° F to 65° F. In two weeks in late April, they doubled in size. In early May I relocated to to a cold frame outdoors to harden off.

Annual poppy seedling being hardened off in one of my cold-frames. Here you can see P. somniferum, P. rhoeas (Shirley Poppy), Viscaria, salpiglossis and in the back, about 30 Cerinthe major 'Kiwi Blue' - the Blue Honeywort.

My basal stem cuttings taken from early-emerging delphinium in March are now rooted and able to be potted-up. Still in the greenhouse, the root now are growing quickly. This method, rather old-fashioned, I discovered in an old gardening book from England. Cut from established clumps just as they are emerging, the cuttings (cut deep underground) are set into sand or perlite, in a clay pot set in a tray of water.

My snapdragon seedlings are always a special project as I adore healthy, strong, tall and bushy snapdragons, and finding well grown or properly grown snaps at a garden center is difficult today as most are either treated with growth regulators or are sold in-bloom. These seedlings takes time, and I can fuss with them more at home. Seedlings are set into 4 inch long-tom pots, pinched and their fertility adjusted (with Cal-Mag or high potassium) food which they appreciate. Pinched twice (at least) these will be set in large groups out into the borders for a spectacular summer show.

These are pinched tips from another set of snapdragons. I used to not pinch snaps, as I wanted to tall, florist-style snapdragons, but those are impractical outdoors as they will tumble without netting and one ends up with bent stems. Yet, if one pinches early and frequently (at the second pair of leaf stage) a sturdy enough plant can be achieved that will still produce relatively long stems.

Cerinthe major var. purpurescens 'Kiwi Blue' is a secret fav of many garden designers. Also rarely found at garden centers, the large seeds are not only easy to sow, they grow quickly (sometimes too quickly). I usually sow mine too early (I never learn), but again, with pinching, the plants branch and by the end of May, a plant in a 4 inch pot is already an impressive size. Set out into the border in great numbers (as all annuals should be planted - in groups of 20 or 30) the show is nothing but sensational.

New for me this year is this: Silene pendula 'Sibella Carmine', a new introduction from Fleroselect that promises to produce a cloud of magenta flowers. It's reccomended for hanging baskets, but I am going to try bedding it out. I am very excited by they dense growing habit already.

By far a favorite annual last year in my garden is this: Phacelia campanularia. These are just beginning to bloom in a pot but last June they put on a sensational show out in the border. A Californian native wildflower, these are certainly something you will need to grow from seed early indoors, but I think that they are so worth the effort. I'll let you know how they do in a container, but I also set out about 25 plants in the border and a few in a clients garden.

Im not growing as many sweet peas this year as in past, but I do have three areas where am growing them, each one demonstrating three different methods. This structure shows my cordon method - the traditional and fussy way exhibitors grow their sweet peas for the sweet pea shows in England. Pinched plants are them restricted to a single stem, which is tied to a single bamboo cane which results in very long stems and flowers that are almost double the size of traditionally grown sweet peas.

In the background here you can see one of my tee pee's. Constructed on a base on 8 foot bamboo poles, branches and twigs are then tied onto the structure. Sweet pea seedlings that were started early in deep trays were set in around the base, pinched back to produce the stronger stems and by July this structure will be covered with flowers. These will be a mix of dark purple, violet and blue colors.

The last method is new for me - the 1910 dwarf variety 'Cupid Pink', from seed raised in the UK as most American strains are considered to be inferior to the original heirloom - I tried these last year along with some 'Knee Hi' varieties from the 1970's in pots for a wedding in Vermont, and they were a hit. So I am dedicating one of my windowboxes to them just to see what happens.

I terrible iPhone shot, I know, but this angle does show how I am setting out these cool-weather annuals out in the border - between the tulps. Upper left are some salpiglossis, lower right a few Phacelia and in the center-right, Viscaria occulata.

I thought i would share a photo of one of my clients gardens last year in suburban Boston using a selection of hard-to-find annuals raised from seed.

It's Memorial Day weekend here in the US which in my growing zone (5b) is traditionally the time one would plant out tomatoes and basil. It's been too cold this year, as it was last year, as night temps are still in the 40° s so no need to rush. My basil seedlings are just forming their first pair of leaves - the time to transplant into larger pots (I'm reusing some 6 packs from pansies). Im growing a number of varieties of Basil including the traditional variety used for Pesto (Genovese) but it will succumb to BPM Basil Powery Mildew by high summer - a new disease introduced 10 years ago.So I am also growing a few of the newer disease resistant varieties like Prospero. Im curious to see if I can taste the difference as these new resistant varieties are crossed with other basil varieties like the Asian basils or Cinnamon basil's. The flavor profiles are very close though, to the true Genovese, but stay tuned.

Aside from unusual annuals and vegetables, the plant geek in me can't help but grow some true rarities or uncommon plants. These pots are from seeds acquired from the NARGS (North American ROCK GARDEN SOCIETY) annual seed exchange. Some Asian delphinium species and other alpine gems - I'm thrilled that the germination is so good this year. these have been outdoors and snowed on since late February.

The entrance to my house shows a display of pansies and violas. I prefer to pot three plants to a pot and not to jam in many plants which is so common today. Three plants pinched, and tended to daily to remove spent blossoms and seed pods will fill out a pot in just a few weeks. You'll be shocked at how large they will get, and I prefer the look of a single variety per pot or basket - a more horticultural look, and the effect is more 'Great Dixter' than 'spiller, thriller and filler'. I'm kind of over that look.

I just had to share this lilac that I planted two years ago. I lost the tag so I don't know what variety it is, but it's magnificent, with a color so intense.

Baby chicks are hatching every week. These guys are all from the green eggs laid by the Aricana hens, but clearly our black Australop rooster has been busy with the hens. They are so cute!

A friend of ours gave us 6 eggs from their Royal Palm turkeys, but we had doubts about them hatching in our incubater, so Joe ordered 15 rare breed turkeys that will arrive in June. Of course, all 6 hatched and are healthy, and growing quickly. I found two of them escaped and perched on the kitchen counter a few days ago. No paper towels, so we are re-purposing emails for their bedding!

Lastly, I never announced it but I was honored to have been asked to feature our garden on a Garden Conservancy Open Days tour (you know how I freak out about tours! but this was a big deal). I was also offering a Digging Deeper program on June 6h but sadly the tour and program has been cancelled or postponed until next June. It does give us time to get things in order around here (hey - it's a mess!) but I promise that it will be even better next year!

Book Giveaway - Jennifer Jewell's 'The Earth is in Her Hands'

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Tue, 05 May 2020 19:01:00 +0000

Jennifer Jewell's 'The Earth is in Her Hands' offers readers insight into the backstories and inspiration behind 75 of the most extraordinary women in the world of plants today. You can find it wherever books are sold online or order it at your favorite independent book seller. Also, leave a comment to be entered in a drawing for a book giveaway here on Mother's Day (see below for details).

With Mother's Day fast approaching, books remain an easy-to-order and welcome gift for any mom, grandmother, sister or aunt who loves plants. Oh, by the way, it's a great gift for any guy, too.

Jennifer Jewell is well known and valued as an award-winning public radio host. Her weekly program and podcast reach many of us in our cars and kitchens, where we listen to her calming voice as she interviews a remarkably diverse range of influential and always interesting plant people from around the world.

Many of us have been impatiently waiting for this book 'The Earth In Her Hands - 75 Extraordinary Women Working in the World of Plants' (2020, Timber Press), as there is no book that I know of that covers such a subject - unless they focus on the classic, early writers usually from the UK.

Such compendiums often focus on the 'classic' garden writers we know and love already - the Gertrude's, the Vita's and the Chatto's, (and they're in here too, but often listed as 'influencers' to these contemporary women who are cultivating or nurturing our plant world.).

You will recognize some of the women featured in the book lke Erin Benzakein of Floret Farm, but many may be new to you.

What makes this book unique is just that - they are contemporary women. Young or experienced, and best of all - not all of them are gardeners or garden writers. These women are from all aspects of the plant world. They are the seed collectors, the landscape architects, the botanists, and explorers. They are the botanical artists, nursery owners or designers we all should know if we don't already. I can't think of a book like this. It's a valuable addition to anyone's plant library or to keep on the bedside table as each bio is about three pages long.

Timber Press has done a remarkable job with the design and quality of the book, from the artful cover to the page layouts. No surprise that Jennifer's writing is as thoughtful as her language is on her radio/podcast - would we expect anything less? Each of the 75 profiles deep-dives into the lives, passions, and influences that led to each woman owning a part of the plant world. Anyone interested in a career with plants will enjoy it, as well indeed anyone already in such a career or life passion.

Francis Palmer, a talented potter and gardener is featured as well. So fun to read the back-story and vision for such icons from our modern gardening world.

Why women in plants, you ask? (It's OK, I asked the same thing, guys). Look, it's crazy even to think that some people react this way today, but it's a strange world that we currently live in. But, yes - I'll be honest, I too had some second thoughts about getting this book (I bought my copy last week because I am friends with Jennifer, but---I did wonder if this book was really written for me?

Short Answer: Yes, this book is written for any plant person regardless of one's gender. It's a book about entrepreneurial confidence, creativity, life-passions, over-coming irrational fears and expressing one's talent with joy. Each will take away something different from it.

BOOK GIVEAWAY

Full disclosure, Timber Press is currently sending me a comp book to review, so I will offer that up as a giveaway here - just leave a comment below and kindly subscribe to my Instagram account @matt_mattus and I'll use a randomizer to choose a winner on Mother's Day - contest closes at 6 PM EST.

But if you are wondering still if this book is for you, (and if you are a man) then think about this:

All horticultural societies were virtually all-male clubs until around 1900.

Some didn't allow women until much later. I'm not preaching; these are just facts we sometimes never think about - careers in science, botany - even an education beyond high school was predominantly a male opportunity. Women were relegated to flower gardens and maybe a kitchen garden, yet throughout history, it was women who tended the fields in tribal cultures, men just hunted and then watched TV.

And how about this...pre-20th century most plant species were named after men (thank you Carl Linnaeus), and most of these guys were elite, wealthy white guys. The only plants named after women were basically some 'varietal names' like Mrs. Willmotts Ghost, Valerie Finnis this or that or Beth Chatto's poppy. I could go on, but you get the picture.

I appreciated that some featured plantswomen are global.

Granted, it was a different time, but from a woman's perspective, while we 'guys' just moved on from all of this -- women and girls, especially minorities or people of color have had few north stars to look up to for guidance or inspiration. In fact, all they had were those paintings of white plantsmen - you know - guys with beards posing with donkeys on an expedition or painted while seated in chair looking pensive. I know this because I sit on the board of a 275-year-old botanical society and botanic garden, where there were rooms full of these white guys with beards on the wall - (we moved them all down to the cellar to make a point for a while.). I think a book about contemporary women and their many contributions to the world of plants has been a long time coming.

As Jennifer states in her intro, "Compiling this list [of 75] has felt akin to mapping mycelia pathways between collaborating organisms in the soil of a forest." Yes. Precisely. That's a thread in this book that connects so many life stories. Each feature profiles a plant person by describing her work, her plant (favorite plant), her plant journey (life story), and then what I find most interesting, 'other inspiring women'. It's like a 300-page interview with someone interesting.

One feature I liked was called 'Her Plant Journey', so if you've been wondering what drives people like Debra Prinzing and her Fast Flower movement, this is the book to get.

This book could have easily been ten times as long if she included every woman from the world of plants! But the web, the ecosystem that exists shows through, and should assure each of us that anything to do with plants offers endless career and life opportunities, many not even invented yet.

This book then is for everyone.

The dreamer, the plantsperson, the philanthropist, the plantsman and plantswoman, the inventor. Jennifer has collected ( and clearly had to carefully edit it down to 75) of the most interesting people that will inspire anyone to boldly grow - perhaps where no man has gone before?

Happy Mother's Day

CULTIVATING OPTIMISM AND RESILIENCE WITH A VICTORY GARDEN

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Tue, 24 Mar 2020 05:00:00 +0000

When I look at our storeroom in the cellar (cork-lined and full of canned goods that my mother who would have been 100 this year) I am reminded about all of the hard work and purposeful growing that happened around here in the 1940's. Will we need to do that again? I think not, but a productive vegetable garden this year (and maybe next year) might be a good idea to relieve the food pressures in our country and for our own health. With a cellar still full of potatoes and winter squash, I feel a little more secure.

Our grandparents had their Victory Gardens, our parents may have had their Oil Crisis Gardens in the 70's. and us? Well. Clearly, we do want to limit how often we go to the market, and while any excuse to eat Kraft Macaroni and Cheese or Spam for a while, the time will come when we start craving something fresh and even though that green Romaine lettuce at the weekly market trip may look appealing, I don't know about you, but it's not like Romaine has a good track record for carrying diseases lately! Good news is that now in most northern climates, one can start a garden and grow your own.

Historically preserving food raised at home or picked at local farms wasn't unusual at all. It served a real purpose. I'm pretty sure that this woman wasn't accused of hoarding or even became upset when her local market ran short of strawberries or frozen peas. Her larder is well stocked.

I live in Zone 5b in central Massachusetts, and while our frost-free date is closer towards the end of May, I know that there are many cold-tolerant crops can be started now like lettuce, mesclun mixes and some root crops (but not broccoli or cabbage, more on that later). Here are some crops I am planting now, and others that are in the wings waiting for the weather to comply. Most of you know your local climates better and can adjust planting schedules to meet your own needs.

Spring is regional, but aside from deep winter, something can be started no matter where you live and garden. In the Southern Hemisphere you could be planting fall crops and in mild-winter climates, winter crops. If you live in an apartment or don't have land, a fire escape or wide, bright window sill can let you grow mesclun, greens or some green onions, a rooftop terrace and you have lots of opportunities. A deck or a balcony too can hold pots - especially nice for miniature vegetables or a few tomato plants and herbs.

For the purpose of this post though, I am focusing on back yard gardens, whether it be a new one that you are digging up and planting in a few weeks or an expansion of an existing one. I think it's safe to assume that most of us are re-evaluating what we are growing over the next year, so I wanted to share some of my thoughts on what you might think about growing, and why.

It seems every generation that faced a challenge had it's version of a victory garden, it's now time for us to define what our generation will do.

A FEW THOUGHTS ON THE NEW VICTORY GARDEN

FOR TIMES LIKE THIS WHEN A TRIP TO THE MARKET GIVES ONE ANXIETY

1. Choose the most productive crops given your square footage.
Make every square foot earn its way. This means crops like spinach or peas that you shell may not make the most sense if you have only a few raised beds. Instead plant crops that you can pick quickly, and provide enough food for at least a few meals, and think about space over the long-term. For example, an 8-10 bed of spinach is wasteful when it comes to space use. It will produce as much spinach as that found in a $5.00 box found at a store (if it is harvested as baby spinach).

WWII Victory Gardens were large wth 30 - 60 foot long rows - the intention was to fill the storeroom with food that could save money and feed the family. While every war-time generation had their version of what a Victory garden was, today's world is different and while we may not need to live completely off of our gardens, in times like these we may need it to serve a greater purpose than just providing us with fresh heirloom tomatoes and cut flowers.

However, if it is planted with the old-fashioned larger growing spinach that we rarely see in stores anymore - the 'Bloomsdale' types (those with crinkled leaves and crunchy stems) space will go a bit further, but again, know that one raise bed may only produce two or three meals (one meal, at our house). Think of spinach as a 100 sq foot crop (10' x 10') or a 30-foot long row. Let it mature, be sure to lime the soil well when you sow it, and yes, you can sow it now. Some crops are fun to grow when a weekly trip to the supermarket is the norm, but this year, thing is different and it might make more sense to focus on crops that are worth growing that fill the fridge, the storeroom or ones plate and not just a fun project. As such, artichokes are out for me for 6 buds per bed isn't worth space.

Elevated beds, or even raised beds allow one to plant crops out in a grid. Often called Square Foot Gardening or French Intensive Method, it works well as it allows one to maximize space and harvest. Lettuce like these growing in a cedar raised bed means that 12 heads can fit into a space no larger than a laundry basket.

Using space wisely isn't a bad practice right now. When these cabbage plants mature the swiss chard has been harvested. Rows of cabbage were planted along with all of the lettuce and cabbage as it could be harvested in 28 days.

2. Plan like you would shop - Crop Succession is key as in interplanting. No one needs 12 heads of lettuce at one time so conserve how much seed you sow, and save some for later with those crops that mature quickly. SA dozen or sow lettuce seeds of a few varieties also will give you a variety to choose from. Be sure to order seed now of a number of varieties for those quick-maturing crops like lettuce, white and purple-top turnips, cilantro and kohlrabi that you can sow now, and then sow again every few weeks to ensure a constant supply into early summer.

Baby lettuce and cabbage grown together with little stress on this grid matrix planting. The lettuce gets pulled out every day providing salad greens in the kitchen and not interfering with this cabbage which is a fast-growing early type. Late cabbage or storage cabbage goes in later, in late June.

3. Plant smart - This is the time to rely less on myths and more on facts. Make every square inch valuable because you are growing food to live on so skip the marigolds and companion plantings (it's proven not to work anyway) and grow crops that maximize space and harvest. Use the space between cabbage for productive crops that mature before other crops do -- like dill, radishes, or onion sets and cilantro. This past weekend I planted rows of snap peas that are 36 inches apart, but between those, I plant three rows - one with cilantro, another wth Swiss Chard that I will harvest as baby chard, and the other with spinach which I to will harvest early.

White Tokyo turnips are a quick crop for both very early spring, or even better in late summer for harvest in October and November in our garden.

4. Order seeds now for the whole summer. and autumn. Many seed companies are overloaded right now. I can't order from Baker Creek until 4:00 PM Monday because their website has been down for 4 days. So plan and order now. I am also avoiding many so-called heirloom varieties opting for newer strains or f1 hybrids. Right now, it's all about vigor and disease resistance. This is generalizing, but for crops that are notoriously susceptible to diseases like tomatoes and cabbage, I am taking no chances because I need reliable crops. I love Romana Costata summer squash but it is a space hog and produces just a few squashes at a time. Instead, I am planting a new hybrid probably from Johnny's Seeds. I need to be overloaded.

Obviously, support your local nursery or garden centers, but who knows what our situation will look like a month from now? It's easy (and frankly, better) to start your own brassica seedlings at home, outdoors in full sun but in cells or individual pots. Sow later than you think you should (biggest amateur mistake s to think of these as 'cool weather' crop. They aren't. Cabbage and all relatives germinate best at 85° and grow best if set out after the first spring flight of the Cabbage Root Maggot Fly which for us is around May 1. Full sun outdoors also ensures stocky plants.

5. Start lots of Summer Crops in Pots Outside - Science has proven that the best light for all seedlings is the direct sun, and any seedling that you start under lights indoors will be inferior to those you start out on a deck or porch in direct sun. Even tomatoes sown the first week of June outdoors will outperform those you started in April under lights. This is especially true with brassicas. First, you can get stronger, healthier seedlings of cabbage, broccoli and brussels sprouts if you start them the first week of June in cells set out on your deck or terrace, but also you can avoid the worst effects of the Cabbage Root Maggot Fly, which has it's largest flight (hatch) usually in late April - late May, depending where you live). Just keep an eye out for cabbage butterfly larvae.

Many crops can and should be started in reusable pots on your deck or outside anywhere in late May or June. Germination is quicker than in soil, and you can keep an eye on their progress. Just be sure to sow one or two seeds per pot and to not disturb the root ball when transplanting. Try this with melon, cucumbers and squashes. I great way to get a few weeks jump on lima beans and pole beans too.

Early cabbage is very useful, and perhaps the most flavorful of all cabbage - what's interesting about it is that early cabbage is rarely found at supermarkets and most people haven't even tasted it before. It's one of the best veggies for early crops. COne headed varieties are classic like 'Caraflex' which is quick maturing, super sweet and as crispy as iceberg lettuce. Try it raw or in stirfries. It's also a space saver and is out of the garden by the Fourth of July so you can plant beans or summer squash.

Kale is always better as a late summer and fall crop, but in these troubled times early sowing in pots then set outdoors will give you a smaller yet welcome harvest by June. Buy enough seed for late summer sowing too.

Peas are great but only grow them if you have the room to plant 30-60 foot lon rows of them. Otherwise, they can be a waste of space and effort. Buy seed by the pound like our grandparents did, and remember that you have to shell and process all of those pods! I always forget that!

7. Green Peas - We all love the flavor of garden-fresh peas, but only grow them if you have the room to plant lots and lots of them. I mean - the peas that you shell, not snap peas or snow peas - those two are worth growing. Three 30 foot rows may only get you three buckets of peas that you will have to then shell, often not worth the effort and space, (if it's supposed to keep you out of the frozen food aisle at the supermarket). Save peas as a luxury item for non-viral years. Instead, plant more productive crops like edible-podded peas (snap peas or snow peas) which sown now, will produce in June and are very productive.

That said, if you have the room (and the labor -i.e.: kids) then do plant long rows of shelling peas!

If you have the room, do plant long rows of peas now - in late March, for there is nothing like the flavor of fresh peas. Just note that the crop is easy to grow but harvesting and shelling can take it's toll if you are growing enough to both feed a family and to freeze. As kids we used to dread pea harvest day for it meant back-breaking work picking for a day and an entire night of shelling peas - only to get one half of a bucket bowl full of shelled peas (or 7 bags from the freezer section).

This is not the time to casually play with growing food. It is a great time to teach children about good planning, agriculture and our food systems. A dozen pea plants are useless if you are planning to live off of your garden. Grow smart. Gardening isn't a craft project, it's science and food. Sow seriously and sow smart. So smart.

Snap or snow peas or any edible-podded pea provides more band for the buck than shell peas. Older varieties can grow very tall though so note the overall height first to make sure you have the room or supports. The foliage on these peas (the entire new shoot) is deliciously stir-fried - so much so that most of the peas we grow in our garden are harvested at 10 inches tall for spring greens.

8. Pea Greens - Peas also are good for pea greens, which may be the first crop you can pick in three or four weeks if you sow now. Snow peas seem to produce the largest leaves. So in thick bands (8" wide) and as long as you want. Cut when greens produce open leaves and are about 6-10" high. Stir-fried in oil with garlic, or a few tablespoons of chicken stock with a 1/4 tsp of corn or tapioca starch, and you could have a quick and delicious fresh green that tastes just like green peas. It's a favorite around here. Just be sure not to order pea varieties touted as good for tendrils. Those are rather useless, in my opinion.

True cold-weather crops like Broad Bean or Fava Beans can be started under lights, or like these that I started in my greenhouse. They too can be sown directly in the ground and are a great project for kids as the seeds are large, and like many kids, being a part of how they grow will make it more likely that they will eat them too.

9. Broad Beans or Fava Beans are surprisingly productive if you have the room. Again, if you have raised beds, perhaps skip them, but if you have a more conventional veg garden, like a 30' by 12-foot plot, broad beans planted out in a few rows will mature by June and each pod produces a handful of large beans that once cooked, rival that of green sweet peas. Last year, four short 8 foot rows gave us enough bean to both eat two or three times fresh, and 8 bags to freeze.

Broad beans or fava beans are less known in America but pod for pod they produce more edible bits that English peas.

Mesclun or baby lettuce can be raised most anywhere, even on a deck or a fire escape in window boxes. These I sowed in rows in an old wooden flat which does sit in the greenhouse but can be moved outdoors on days when temps are above freezing. A quick crop, one can harvest most mesclun mixes in just 30-40 days.

10. Grow Mesclun Everywhere - Order larger packets of all greens to make a jar of your own mesclun mix. This will save money and allow you to sow successive crops every week and a half. I mix myself using larger packets of many lettuces, mustards, cress and arugula that I keep in a jar. The larger packets you purchase of individual seed, the greater the cost savings. Buy seed in bulk.

If you live in an appt order various brassicas (broccoli, red cabbage, cress, kohlrabi and arugula( which you can mix all together in a jar) and then start a square foot or two in a seed tray or even on a plate of et paper towels for microgreens. This mix along with a mesclun mix like above can also be sown in window boxes, or in any recyclable container that you can put out on a ledge. It's still cold out but I am starting mesclun mix in all of my pots out on the deck that I have topped-off with a few inches of fresh potting soil.

11. Early Beans are Purple and more cold tolerant - t's true, purple string beans are more cold tollerant than yellow or green. Plant a tower or three in a few weeks, depending on where you live. Start early in 6 packs or three seeds in a 4 inch pot indoors to get a jump.

Beets are productive both for the roots and for their greens.

12. Plant Onion sets - Forget about what I said before because we arent growing onion sets for onions, we are growing them for their greens. It's true, sets are useless for onions, but great for quick green onions. The same goes for those sprouting onions in your onion basket on the counter - I never encourage this in normal years, but if you want greens in a few weeks, plant them. Mom was rght about these.

13. But....Sow Green Onion Seed NOW for the best green onions ever. (It will just take time ), but do it. I have found that green onion seed is one of the most economical crops to grow - especially if you are like me and buy green onions every week at the supermarket. They make sense to grow because one sowing in early spring will produce all summer. Plus, the quality is superior to any green onions one will find at a supermarket. Crispier, better varieties and more flavorful. The downside is that it is a slow grower - still, sow it now. Sow green onions in rich soil (it cant have enough nitrogen! I use composted manure but don't be afraid to use the blue, water-soluble fertilizer as right now - we are all desperate and need food of the highest quality.).

Potatoes are a long-season crop that can and should be sown now. They make good use of space, but can also be planted in places perhaps where you don't garden - like along a fence or even in a garbage can (Google it!). Potatoes are one of the most productive crops and aside for having plenty of uses, are good to store, not to mention that they taste so much better straight from the garden like tomatoes do. You can even sneak a few out early if you are lucky!

14 Don't forget about Long-Season Dependable Crops - Outdoors, in your raised beds try sowing crops that can stay in the ground a bit longer such as onion sets, cabbage, kale, and mustard greens won't need to be sown as often. If you have mesclun mixes sown, try using a trowel to select out a few mustard plants and plant them in a row or grid elsewhere so that they can grow larger. Mixes that are cress and arugula-heavy or sown too thickly will bloom faster, but mustards (both frilly and large red or green-leaved varieties) can be transplanted elsewhere and will grow into large, productive plants in a few more weeks.

Winter storage squashes are one of the most productive crops any of us can grow. If it wasnt for storage squashes, many in the north wouldnt have survived the winter. This Blue Hubbard can produce dozens of dishes, roasted squash, soups and in pies.

Aside from herbs, for those of you who have rhubarb, isn't it amazing how once we don't have (or trust) fresh fruit from the store, how welcome fresh rhubarb suddenly is? I'm not exactly comfortable buying strawberries or blueberries right now, unless I am cooking them (one sneeze!). But rhubarb from my garden in late April is so welcome! I now know how early Americans felt when they would get this first 'fruit' out of the garden.

15. Fruit? If you arent that trustful about fresh strawberries or apples at the market, remind yourself about an old favorite - Rhubarb. In crisps and pies, rhubarb is just going to seem so amazing in a few weeks! I can't wait, and now I can understand why it was so valued by northern gardeners a century or more ago when their storage fruit like mealy apples were running short. In a time before air travel and even trains, rhubarb did indeed bring us the first fruit of the season. I get it now.

Can you taste it?

My own parsley seedlings are at the perfect size for late March. Parsley must be set out at a small size if you dont want it to bolt. It must also never be exposed to cold or near freezing temperatures if it is any larger than this, or it too will bolt - the key reason why so many parsley plants that we find at garden centers that sat out with the pansies eventually bolt by July.

16. Plant Herbs that you buy fresh every week - Think about herbs that provide health benefits like parsley and add fresh flavors to dishes like dill and cilantro. Remember that parsley seed or very, tiny plants of parsley will be your best choice as larger plants (with more than 4 pairs of leaves) will bolt by early summer. Parsley will bloom too early if plants are exposed to cold weather (above 45 deg) as it will think that it has passed through a winter. This exposure won't hard true seedlings if they are young enough, but most commercial sources of plants sell parsley that was started in autumn or winter. Also, never buy cilantro plants, you can grow a crop quickly in three weeks from seed.

As for cilantro that is growing in a pot at the nursery it just going to bloom and go to seed in a few weeks, and isn't worth the price if you are going to use it in a few weeks. So cilantro now (it prefers cool weather and will go to seed and get too soapy if the weather turns hot). Also, sow it every 2 weeks in 30" bands, or in pots set out on your deck. It's like a mesclun mix - an in-and-out crop that can be ready to harvest within a month.

Basil can wait, as it truly needs warmth (here in Zone 5 I sow seed indoors in Mid April, and plant out in early June. If you are in California or the south, go for it!

TO RE-CAP

PRODUCTIVE CROPS THAT MAKE GOOD USE OF SPACE

Pea greens
Broad Beans
Spring Turnips
Mustard Greens
Swiss Chard
Snap Peas and Snow Peas
Spinach
Lettuce
Mesclun
Onion Sets

CROPS FOR Late Spring/ Early Summer

Purple String Beans
Early Cabbage
Kohlrabi
Lettuce
Tuscan Kale
Mustard Greens

Long Season Warm-Weather Crops to Mature later and are highly productive (storage too)

Potatoes (Plant now!) Do not lime soil, as they prefer acidic soil. Plant as many as you can.
Root Crops like Carrots and Parsnips sow now
Late root crops like Rutabaga, sow later in July for late fall storage.
Winter Squashes - any and all, from acorn to Blue Hubbard and perhaps the most economical - the Butternut types. Believe me, you will want to stock up on storage squash next fall and winter if they don't find a cure until next spring. Our great grandparents knew about the value of storage squash and potatoes. It may be time to rediscover their immense value.

Summer Standbys to ORDER SEED FOR NOW (To Freeze, eat fresh, pickle or preserve)

String Beans
Tomatoes
Peppers and Chili's
Summer Squash
Potatoes

Productive herbs
Longer-season (plant once)
Parsley
Rosemary plants or cuttings
Sage

Sow bi-weekly
Cilantro

Sow Monthly
Dill for greens
Dill for seedheads (for pickles)

ORDER SEED NOW FOR AUTUMN CROPS that are Productive (in late July/early-mid August)

Napa Cabbage
All turnips
All Asian radishes like Daikon
Broccoli
Cauliflower
Cilantro
Arugula/mesclue
Lettuces
Kale

Learning More About Growing Annual Poppies, and My New Book

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Fri, 20 Mar 2020 00:13:00 +0000

Annual poppies are not easy to grow, at least not for most people. Oriental poppies? Much easier, as they are a long lived perenial. notoriously fussy about root disturbance, and like many wildflowers, they will always grow best if direct seeded exactly where they are to grow, and then thinned to leave a good amount of distance between plants (a foot is best). If you can keep root disturbance to a minimum, that checks off the first box. Beyond that, temperature and light will need to be controlled. Clearly these are not easy plants to grow to perfection, but if you care and want gorgeous poppies in your garden (and who doesn't?) it might be worth it to try a few methods.

In this post I am only addressing cultural techniques for two species of poppies: The Shirley Poppy (Papaver rheas) and the Bread Seed Poppy (P. somniferum). The genus Papaveraceae includes hundreds of species, many of which require special treatment which may add to the confusion out there, but for these two species which should be more commonly grown in our gardens, the methods often found on-line and in literature seems to be unnecessarily complex and incorrect.

You may be saying to yourself "What's all the fuss about? I just sprinkle seed on the snow in spring and have wonderful poppies every year.". To that specific statement, I respond with "great for you!" The truth is, that method just doesn't work for me many years, and, when it does, it often doesn't produce the best plants.

Here is what I wanted to know.

• Where did that 'sowing on snow' advice come from?

• Does poppy seed need light to germinate like everyone says?

• Does poppy seed need a cold period to 'stratify'?

•What is the ideal germination temperature for both Shirley Poppies and Breadseed/Opium Poppies?

• Can one start these poppy seeds indoors instead of direct seeding?

The answers I found were staggering in that it was the polar opposite of what I have found most everywhere on-line, in consumer-facing gardening books and on most blogs and social media posts. I'm not nailing anyone here - even I have gotten this wrong in the past, and even in my new book where I started to share some of my personal methods that are different, I get a few things wrong.

Many of use research on-line today, and hey - you can do it yourself too. Just Google "how to sow annual poppies" and see what you will find. Most sources advise that one first chill the seed for varying lengths of time, sometimes first mixing the seed with peat moss, damp sand or soil then chilling in the fridge, then sow direct (usually sprinkling on a late snow) and then thinning the seedlings.'

If you are in a hurry, here is what I discovered:

• Where did that 'sowing on snow' advice come from? It started in the late 1900's in England but the assumption is that wintered-over poppy seeds could fall on snow and still sow. It's not necessary for germination and doesn't offer any special treatment other than helping seed distribute.

• Does poppy seed need light to germinate like everyone says?
Not necessarily. Some species do, yet most prefer to germinate just under the surface of soil and this includes both P. rhoeas the Shirley Poppy and P. somniferum, which germinates better with a thin layer of soil or medium covering the seed. Many poppy species do require light, however.

• Does poppy seed need a cold period to 'stratify'?
No. Most studies indicate that especially with P. somniferum, both of these species germinate best using seed that was stored dry and germinated at 70° F.

•What is the ideal germination temperature for both Shirley Poppies and Breadseed/Opium Poppies? 70° F.

• Can one start these poppy seeds indoors instead of direct seeding? Yes, if one can provide the high light intensity and if they use individual pots with one plant in each (thinning to one plant). Transplant with great care not to disturb roots while plant is still small.

Here are the details....

These P. somniferum poppies in my garden last year were transplanted from plants started early in a cool greenhouse.

I referenced my 'go-to' seed starting source, an out of print book titled 'Seed Germination Theory and Practice' one often shared amongst plant geeks as a photocopied document that was first published in the 1990s (and sold often at North American Rock Garden Society auctions and book sales). I think since the book is rather heavy on data points and science, with no photos that it seemed unmarketable to the masses (as in: no one in the public cares about the stratification requirements of an Anemonopsis species). Still - it is a useful book. IF YOU WANT IT, it can often be found on Amazon as in here.) And maybe on Ebay? The author Norman C. Deno tested many challenging genera and species, and what he discovered about Papaver somniferum is nearly exact to what I found in a couple of journal articles outlining studies in germination.

All conclude that P. somniferum germinates highest at 70°F That's right, 70°.

No snow.
No cold.
No surface sowing.
No 'Light needed to germinate'

What remains the same is that both poppies resent being transplanted and that both prefer poor soil (so no fertilizer).

Yet, they can be transplanted if one is able to slide a root ball out of a pot and set it into the ground without breaking it. I should add that seedlings like these are best raised in a greenhouse, or outdoors like on a deck or on a porch in the brightest of light - so not everyone is going to be able to grow individual plants from seed in pots. A light unit indoors most likely wont produce light bright enough.

Yet, if you have a sunny porch, or want to try starting a few trays of individual pots outdoors in April or May if you live in the North, it's worth a try.

Some flower farmers have discovered this already as they often sow P. somniferum in plug trays along with P. rhoeas and carefully transplant plugs into growing beds with a minimum of root damage. It's kind of a secret few home growers know about. Of course, this does require a greenhouse and some heating mats, but the idea - the idea can be hacked to work on a glassed in porch, or in a garage with some artificial lights. Natural bright sunlight is best as poppies will stretch out, but it does mean that you could grow wonderful poppy plants by sowing individual seeds in =plug trays, keeping them at 70 and then moving them outdoors as soon as possible.

What about sowing outdoors on snow or direct on soil in March or April?

This method works to, in fact, it still may be the ideal method, but it does have a few problems. Sowing on snow works where you want a more natural look, but it won't work if you use mulch and it is challenging to do in areas where you are growing other plants - such as in a perennial border. It works much better if you have a place dedicated to just poppies, which makes it easier to see the tiny seedlings that you will need to thin so that plants are about 8 inches apart from each other, and so you can weed effectively. I still grow poppies this was in a few places, and direct sowing works well when I sow a row or band in the vegetable garden as it's easy to see the seedlings.

As early 20th century seed catalog like this Sutton's one from 1910 often featured Shirley Poppies. Few flowers are as old-fashioned as these poppies are. Methods such as 'sowing on snow' began appearing around 1900 in garden texts, and quickly caught on as an approved method mostly in northern Europe, but also in North America - the truth is, there is little to no scientific data to back-up this method. Does it work? Sure, for some, but sowing a bit later in soil will work just as well.

Do know though that there is no benefit that comes from the cold, or from the snow. Seeds sown direct outdoors still won't germinate until day time temps tip near 70 degrees (although seedlings are cold-tolerant can handle very light frosts) my point here is that the seeds don't need a cold period. The texts all state that in particular P. somniferum, 70° is the ideal germination temperature when using seed that was in dry storage at room temperature.

The Shirley Poppy is more variable but seed still germinated in much the same way but the length of time is slightly longer. Even in my home greenhouse, the seed germinated - covered or not covered at 15 days without bottom heat with night temps at 45° F but seed on heat mats (70° F) both covered (1/8") or not germinated at 4 days nearly at 90%. Light doesn't affect germination.

In areas where hot, summer temperatures arrive in late June along with high humidity, direct sowing early is still the best way to grow poppies, it's often not practical to wait until a 70° Day to sow, the seeds sown early are just fine waiting.

Papaver somniferum in my garden that was started from seed in individual pots then set out once the weather became mild in late May. These were still three feet tall and covered with bees.

Some books have it right, and I started with the classics like Christopher Grey-Wilson's book 'Poppies - The Poppy Family in the Wild and in Cultivation' (1993, Timber Press), now out of print, but you can find it at online booksellers. A useful book even though some species may have been reclassified. Grey-Wilson's book is nearly a monograph with excellent details about the natural history and botany of most plants in Papaveraceae, but shorter bits about specific poppies, particularly only a few pages on P. rhoeas. Readers should factor in that this book was written in the United Kingdom so the cultural bit lean more towards what works in a mild-winter climate (sow in late summer or autumn) a method that won't work where the ground freezes deep and solid such as in a Zone 5 garden, or where spring freezes are variable.

I cant live without Shirley Poppies, but every year is different. I've found that direct-sowing seed works best with these smaller poppies, but I keep trying new methods of started early under glass, now trying plug trays.

General advice seems to be similar everywhere (just Google it, and see for yourself). That 'sprinkle seeds on the snow' advice, or 'sprinkle seeds in late winter or early spring and thin-out seedlings.'. Not bad advice, as it works - but not always (just in case you have tried these methods and have failed). You are not alone.

Sowing in a greenhouse or under bright lights is possible if one sows seed individually into plug trays or single pots.

While there are some unconventional methods that you might want to try - sowing annual poppies in cells under glass, using individual seeds in a 4-inch pot, or setting out pots of thinly sown seed on a porch or deck, or under lights and then setting the entire rootball early out into the garden - these methods also work, but again, only if you are careful with light, watering and with thinning out all but one plant per pot (never transplanting the thinnings as they will fail). All are tricky to master, but if one can master a pre-start method, the results are extraordinary.

The wild version of P. rhoeas is all red with black spots, but selections that first appeared in the 1880's changed how one viewed this common weed of European wheat and cornfields. Selections like this one named 'Mother of Pearl' have mostly pastel shades, and while many are advised to cull-out the red ones to keep the strain pure, how could one not want this?

In a search to find out more, I began trying all methods last year, and some of my results are surprising me. I will add here that I still sow direct, but always sow a few in individual pots and cells just in case one method doesn't work. No method is easy, and I think it's safe to say that one isn't any easier than the other unless you are having luck with direct sowing early (if you live in the north, or in autumn if you live in a mild climate).

Use a precisions seeder like this (it will take some practice to master! But it makes all the difference in the world with truly small seeds that you often cannot sprinkle especially in pots or plug trays.You can. find one here at Gardener's Supply, or Google for other sources.

My Tests

As a test, for two years now I've been sowing seed outdoors. For the past 6 years, I usually sow both on snow and with direct-sowing methods on raked, drained and workable soil outside in March.

To back things up I also so seeds in deep cells under glass (individually sown seeds). These I've tried pre-treating a number of ways, chilling the seed packets, mixing seed with damp sand and then chilling for 2-4 weeks in the fridge, and then sowing dry seed straight from the seed packet in the greenhouse. To keep this short, all of these methods have proven to be unreliable. Some flats I kept in a cold frame to expose them to freezing temperatures, others I just kept under glass.

These tiny poppy seedlngs (P. somniferum) emerged in just 4 days last week. They were set on a heat mat set to 70° F with a thermostat, and the seed was covered with 1/8" soil. Surface sown seeds in another tray germinated four days later. Do notice that even in a glass greenhouse these seedlings are slightly stretched out compared to seedlings that emerge outdoors. I try to move these outdoors most every day once the weather begins to warm above freezing to keep them from etiolating.

This year, I began using heating mats set to 70° using both chilled seed, and seed straight from the packet as it came in the mail - and to my shock, I'd say 85% germination in about 4 days for the seed that was covered with a 1/8 inch of soil, and 6 days for seed surface sown. This has proven itself over and over with both P. somniferum and P. rhoeas with 8 flats of plug trays and four flats of 4-inch pots.

I thin the seedlings out to single plants just as they are forming their first true leaves, and will relocate them to a cold frame or set pots outdoors if daytime temperatures are over 40° to keep plants stocky and strong as my daytime temperatures in the greenhouse can get too hot with the spring sun - I like to keep air temps below 80° to slow down growth, as plants will need to be set outdoors in early May and plants need to be stocky enough with withstand wind and should still be in their rosette stage (not forming a stem and certainly not a flower bud).

Papaver somniferum 'Lauren's Grape' still in rosette form were individually sown and germinated warm, on heat mats, but grown cool near 55° are ready to be set out into the garden.

Last year my Greenhouse plug trays were split into two groups, one group that I kept under glass at 40° F and three other flats that I first kept outdoors in a cold frame. The Greenhouse flats germinated after a month, but irregularly, and about 1/3 survived. The flats in the cold frame never germinated, I suspect that the temperature differential was too much (hot days, freezing nights). Direct sown seeds grew well, but a few self-sown seeds from previous years were virtually gigantic. I did have one tray of seedlings that were individually sown into 4 inch pots that I acquired from my favorite source of hard-to-find annuals Bunker Farm Plants in Vermont, and her rosettes were nearly 5 inches across, grown from early sown seed in an unheated hoop house with seeds germinated on a heat mat.

Single, Breadseed poppies are beloved by many bees for their pollen, but not for nectar as they do not produce any.

Sowing in a greenhouse is possible, but a more mindful approach to sowing outdoors works even better. Dry sand will help you dilute your seed, and some chicken wire may help deter curious critters - like dogs (necessary in our garden!).

I had heard of some local flower farms raising poppies the same way, so I purchased a heating mat or a germination chamber mat from Johnny's Seeds and found that even seed sown in March germinated. While there are a few plants that require low, then warm temperatures, most common flowers and vegetables will germinate best at 70°. Some, (even those often listed as being 'cold-weather crops like cabbage, broccoli, and other brassicas) will germinate even better at higher temperatures, but much slower rates at lower temps. Then there are the real freaks like Gomphrenia which scientists have found will germinate best if exposed first to hot temps near 100° for a couple of days although 90° will often get good results.

Mix seed packet of either P rhoeas (Shirley Poppies) or P. somniferum (like 'Lauren's Grape) in a bowl, and mix well. This just helps disperse the seed so that you wont have as much waste. One of the biggest errors one can make is to not thin young plants (I get it - it's hard to pull and toss a precious poppy) but know that if you leave 8 inches between each seedling your results will be much better.

Dig, till or pitchfork your soil to loosen it up and then rake to make it evener. Leaving some furrows will help the seed fall into nooks and crannies, which is OK as some coverage of the seed helps.

Sift the sand/seed mixture over the prepared area. Now, the 'prepared area' could be in the border where there is a bare spot, or in the veg garden - as where I often grow mine, which makes weeding and thinning easier. Never mulch, and remove old mulch as seed will need contact with the soil. Also, poppies enjoy low soil fertility so no fertilizer is needed.

This isnt neccessaryl but since we have 'diggy'Irish terriers, I pin down a protective wire covering over the bed. It also helps remind me where I sowed the seed as a month or so may pass until the weather warms up enough for the seedlings to emerge, and often weeds will germinate first.

Last year it took 2 months for seedlings to emerge, but it was a very cold spring.

Look carefully after a few weeks for poppy seedlings (and keep watered if a dry spell arrives). This seedling will be very tiny so get your glasses on. Each cotyledon is about 1/8 inch long. These are too thickly sown, but I will wait to remove all but one plant every 8 inches to a foot apart later.

Both species will seem to grow slow at first, but will suddenly take off once the weather become warmer. This is a bed that I should have thinned but I didn't. Shirley poppies can grow well closer together, but P. somniferum really does better with lost of room between plants. I'vd read in many old books to pinch plants back at this stage, but I have never done it myself, have you? I've read that some P. somniferum can become very bushy and tall if pinched back - I'll try it this year.

My direct-sown Shirley Poppies always like the walk to my greenhouse where I plant them in some raised bed in the veg garden. They bloom in my Massachusetts garden between mid-June and the Fourth of July or just until the weather turns hot and humid. After that, they are pulled and vegetables are planted.

A double lavender-grey Shirley poppy from my garden a few years ago.

Coral and White picotee forms are very pretty.

An all white strain called 'The Bride' seems less pretty in the garden.

These P. somniferum 'Lauren's Grape' were buzzing with bees in my garden last July. All were started early in individual pots and set out in mid-May.

P. somniferum like this white peony form can self-seed if you allow the seed to dry in the capsule. I've found that in my garden if I cut the seed to dry indoors and sprinkle in the garden in late fall or early spring, I get a better germination rate as a naturally dried seed that falls in late July or early August often germinates in late summer, and small poppy plants cannot survive out winters.

If you want to learn more, order my brand

new book just published here on Amazon and where most books are sold!

Here are a few spreads to share with you! If you do order it, I would appreciate any revew you could write (or just rank it) on Amazon. It's important data for us authors as it tells publishers that it's worth offering another book deal.

Two Outstanding Gardening Books for those Long, Winter Nights

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Tue, 21 Jan 2020 21:36:00 +0000

Two rock stars of the gardening world have recently release significant works worthy of any gardeners bookshelf.
Ken Druse's 'The Scentual Garden' and Amy Goldman's The 'Melon' will inspire, inform and entertain you this winter as you plan your summer garden. I promise.

I just realized that these two books (The Melon by Amy Goldman and the Scentual Garden by Ken Druse) essentially deal with, well, sensuality. While one can certainly draw lines to why flowers are fragrant or why melons are luscious and desirable, the many metaphors aside, there should be no doubt that these books might be a good excuse to give a book as a gift for Valentine's Day to your secret (or not so secret) admirer? Certainly, I approve if you just buy them for yourself to get lost in on these cold, winter nights.

I have high standards for the gardening books I invest in. They might be beautifully designed, well crafted and printed on quality paper or the subject matter may be unique, but above all, they must be useful. Usefulness can be defined in a few ways as I'm not necessarily looking for a textbook or an encyclopedia but 'usefulness' can certainly be all about learning something new, referenceable (accuracy, factual and not simple second-hand information gathered from Google searches) and even inspirational - as a book with just lovely photos of gardens can be a journey that leads to new ideas.
Here are three books that have recently come across my desk and seem to deliver all of this.

Amy Goldman's newest book reads like a monography on the melon, but it is so much more. Artistic, scientific, botanically interesting and a cultural handbook. It's so beautiful that you won't want to put it on your bookshelf, and I promise that you'll be making room for melons this year (or at least following the many recipes in the last chapter in your kitchen!).

THE MELON - by Amy Goldman (City Point Press, 2019)

I've been waiting for this for years, as I knew that Amy was working on a revision of her first book on Melons entitled: Melons for the Passionate Grower (2002, Artisan) - still a useful book, but this new one is at least twice as large physically and has nearly three times the page count, most every one featuring stunning photography by Victor Schrager (from those early Martha Stewart Living magazines that we all hoard secretly in our closets).

Many melon groups and varieties are broken out into detailed sections with historical facts and many corrections to legends and lore that often comes with heirloom varieties of vegetables.

I could go on and on about each of Amy's books and about how useful and beautiful they are, but really - experience them for yourself. Few, if any gardening books, in my opinion, offer such a wealth of accurate and well-researched information as do Amy's. A long-time philanthropist with hands in many initiatives ranging from global issues concerning agriculture, food supplies, and nature, Amy is well known amongst most scientists involved in agricultural crop research (particularly Cucurbitaceae and tomatoes) and not surprising - to gardening geeks.

Amy's experience, support, and involvement in other passion projects connect her to a wealth of information and resources few have access to. The best part is that this book is also written and illustrated in such a way that it's like a documentary because it entertains, inspires and delights us. It's easy to get the big picture regardless of how experienced you are. It's organized by the key groups of melons which helps one understand their fundamental differences. There are precise descriptions about each melon variety, with history and facts, information on how to get seed and how to grow them to perfection.

In a nutshell, here is what makes Amy's books so valuable. She is one of the very few authors who approaches her topics with expertise garnered not just from years of research but from first-hand from experience. I know this because Joe and I have been fortunate to visit her farm in upstate New York, we've toured through the fields of squashes, heirloom, and new ones, through acres of tomatoes, fields, and fields of peppers, and we've seen (and yes, tasted) many of here hundred of heirloom and new melons. I mean, even seed catalogs rarely grow everything that they sell. her approach is old-school, 19th-century farm-style. Her fields are her laboratory and serve a bit like a museum of human agriculture. One goes to the Museum of Natural History in New York City to see the floor with the skeletons of all the giant land sloths in one room, and one goes to Amy Goldman's farm in September to see almost every variety of melon known to humankind all in one barn.

Melons on Amy Goldman's farm are trialed often for years (some up to seven, others even longer) before she writes about them. Each is subjected to tests for sugar content, taste and in the kitchen. Amy makes notes year after year in trials before writing about a melon, noting cultural quirks and performance in the field as well as noting failures and successes. The information in this book in invaluable, but somehow, so readable, I can't even think of a book that does all of this. Her farm is life the 'America's Test Kitchen' for gardeners.

I won't wax on, but know that beyond the research, artistic photography and beautiful book design thanks to Doyle and Partners, the written word is by far even more useful. Like any of Amy's previous books there are fascinating stories behind every heirloom variety, clear descriptions about the merits of each variety, be they luscious, sweet-as-candy or 'not-worth pig fodder'. I find the lists of synonyms most useful as many of us know, over centuries, varieties often get muddled.

Few, if any books can create spreads like those seen in this book. Photographer Victor Schrager actually creates a studio inside Amy Goldman's barn as she hauls in melon after melon from her fields all summer long. Freshly picked, identified, labeled and photographed is only part of the story here.

Oh, and this. As my friend Jess said one day over the Holiday when I was talking about this book: "who the Hell would buy a gardening book that is just all about melons?"
OK, well, I would, and I rarely grow melons, but I know that I can (I know this because every few years I do, and I never regret it because melons are one of the few fruits that you can rarely buy ripe and locally-grown. This means the few of us have ever truly experienced what made melons so popular centuries ago. I'm not kidding, melons are worth growing in much the same way that tomatoes are.

I appreciate any book that has step-by-step photos in it, especially when it if for something like how to pollinate or crossbreed cucurbits like melons or cucumbers.

Amy's book THE MELON has details about how to grow them well, how to sow them and start them early, and how to navigate around any problems. Even if you don't plan on growing melons, this book is a great read, informative on many levels and useful if you are a home chef, professional chef or just an amateur foodie. I should mention that Amy's is a rather good cook herself, and has included many recipes in the back of the book with stunning photos so even armchair gardeners might find this book useful as a cookbook!

Ken Druse's newest work THE SCENTUAL GARDEN is much more than just. a book with photos, it's a journal of discoveries, learnings, and inspiration that any gardener will appreciate.

THE SCENTUAL GARDEN - Exploring the World of Botanical Fragrance
by Ken Druse (Abrams, 2019)

ll disclosure - I learned about Ken's new book a couple of years ago while I was setting up the national show of the American Primrose Society at Tower Hill Botanic Garden. A long fan of artist Ellen Hoverkamp who mentioned to me that she was working with Ken on a book idea he had about fragrant plants (Ellen created many of the montage photos in this book with here unique photo-scanner style that she has made so famous). She said that she was going to stay late at the garden to see if she could photograph some of the lemon trees for the citrus assemblage that she was working on, when I offered that if she wanted, she could stop by my garden on her way home to Connecticut to see if there were any fragrant plants there that she or Ken might want to use.

This book has both artistic photos and garden photos. This allows one to view all the similarities and differences with 'like-plants' such as these alliums, but also see how they might look like growing in the garden.

In the end, a few plants did make it into the book from my garden (a page on daphne species, some bulb plants, and citrus), but I almost forgot about this book until Ken had emailed me near the end of the editing process asking me for some descriptions about the unique fragrance of a few bulbs. If you own any of Ken's books then you know about his approach, background, and expertise. Few garden authors today brings such a wealth of experience to a book. His years as one of New York's premier photographers (back when photography was truly an art form with 8x10 transparencies and large format cameras). This means that Ken brings not only the eye for excellence and lighting with his photos, but he also brings knowledge that few today can combine which in my opinion makes him the ideal photo editor, garden writer and book designer. Believe me, I know what it takes to create a well-designed book in a digital world! I can only imagine what working with Ken might have been like from his publishers' perspective, but I would imagine and hope that Abrams (very respectfully) appreciated his input and control.

When a plant lover and serious plantsperson creates a book about something like fragrance, no stone is left unturned. Fragrance can mean 'stinky' or alluring, but Ken Druse digs deeper into all sorts of adjacencies with plants and how or why they use fragrance and scent. It's a fascinating read.

This book is stunning (no surprise, what Druse book isn't) but while even I thought that maybe it was just a photo book discovered that moment that I opened it that it is much, much more. Ken writes about how the scent was appreciated (and sometimes, not) in ancient times to today. He taps into details about the complexities of the fragrance industry, examines the chemistry of flowers and the plants we both love the smell of and hate, and he then goes into greater detail about groups of plants and flowers that share similar scents, with descriptions worthy of a wine connoisseurs notebook or a cheese monger's book of descriptions (hello: baryardy?). I've been keeping this book by my bedside at night then bring it downstairs on snowy days to read through near my plant window - just because it's that good. It's one of those few books that I have to resist enjoying it too quickly, just because I don't want the experience to end.

Ellen Hoverkamp's artwork using a laser scanner and plants from gardens that she has access to round out this book with beauty and celebration, capturing each season or even each week of bloom from real gardens. Anyone who grows plants will recognize these relationships in her images.

Both of these books are art. They are 'work's that will never be in that pile of books that gets earmarked for the trash bin or for donation (you know what I mean!). These books will bring you joy (over and over again). They are not one-read-wonders.

I also should preface this post with the fact that I purchased Ken Druse's book myself on Amazon and Amy Goldman's I accepted gratis from her publicist as a review copy (of course, I was pre-ordering it anyway!). As always, my reviews and recommendations are my own and always come honestly after reading a book in its totality. I like books, what can I say? I also not afraid to advise when a book wasn't right for me, or if it fails to deliver what was promised.

Tulips, Alliums and my current thoughts about spring Bulbs

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Tue, 01 Oct 2019 20:44:00 +0000

Dare yourself to try tulips in colors you normally would not plant. A red tulip may be more complex in color than you might imagine it to be. Find yourself hating orange? What if it was a deep persimmon color flushed with purple, violet and magenta? Tulips offer all sorts of color options far beyond the slick, commerical studio photo may indicate.

It's nearly too late to order bulbs, but there is still a bit of time (do it now!). I am high on bulb-ordering and planting right now, and thought that I might share some new insights and ideas I have about my bulb planting schemes, and some from others that I recently discovered.

Ordering bulbs is one of those things that sometimes overwhelms me. I am experienced enough to know that in July I must order the rarest of the rare which often must be imported from overseas - Latvia or Lithuania (and as such, the cut-off date for these smaller European nurseries is before Aug. 1st - not to mention that things sell out quickly). Not that I order all that much anymore from Ruksans or that Lithuanian crocus nursery, but sometimes I try to remember, and if lucky, I get a few treasures.

Bulb planting and curating is indeed an art, and a craft that good gardeners keep perfecting over their lifetime. The good news is that bulbs are rather fool-proof, so there is no bad time to begin, and fear of messing it up is rarely a threat. Still, when it all comes together and you discover the ideal combination of bulbs in the garden, the effect can be extraordinary. Far too often, especially in the US, we plant bulbs as an afterthought. We pick up a few - a dozen of these, 24 of those, some crocus for along the walk, maynbe a frittilaria or three and feel that we are doing the right thing. Most of us learn by seeing, and it seems every year we are pushing oursleves to try something new. One neight has an amazing display of giant allium and soon others invest in a dozen or six, to flank their walk or set in the border. But what else could you do?

I say...let's raise the bar much higher. Plant complex matrixes in our perennial borders. Push ourselves to try colors that we wouldnt dare buy or combine. Plant something you've never grown before. Break the rules and try combining two, three, eight colors that make you feel uncomfortable. Blow your budget by investing in 100 bulbs of just one type - like giant frittilaria imperialis or F. persica and see what happens.

Tulips combined with other spring bulbs and flower from my garden (in this rejected photo from my new book) show how surprisingly well they all combine together. Of course, such density doesnt happen in the garden, but notice how red and white striped tulips here and there play against other bulbs like the frittilaria.

After that, I seem to get lazy. Or, maybe just dazed and confused with all of the choices offered in the main-stream imported Dutch bulb catalogs. This shouldn't stall me. I have been growing bulbs since I was very young begging my mom to let me buy bulbs at a local discount store (Spag's in Shrewsbury, MA) at around the same time I would be asking my dad to buy me Matchbox cars. Im sure that at young age, I would choose colors that I probably would never buy today, as experimenting in a garden is a right of passage for most gardeners. Plant fearlessly and learn.

We may think that the harsh-coloring of tulips like this red and yellow parrot tulip are too extreme for us, but in a garden that is still mostly grey and brown, it stands out and acually feels very natural.

Don't get me wrong, I love color, and after 30 years as a graphic and product designers - I love to experiment and play with palettes - but back then, I was probably more likely to be moved by a fancy striped 'Rembrant' tulip than being as strategic as creating a palette and an integrated garden design. The funny thing is, I've never walked away from those streaked and striped 'Rembrant'-type tulips, in fact, I am even more interested in sourcing the correct 'Rembrant' types - those that actually have the virus that causes the window-paneing and streaks - but sadly, they are hard if not impossible to find easily in the US anymore (and the very great ones, while available in the UK, are always sold out by the time I remember to order some),

I am always pleased with this combination in very late winter or early spring. Maybe becasue it is like fire or 'heat'? But it totally works in my garden.

This past weekend I had the incredible honor to be asked by the Massachusetts Master Gardeners annual Symposium. Joining three other speakers, I stayed for the entire day and learned much more than I thought I might. The topics were perfectly timed for the season, with noted bulb expert Jacqueline van der Kloet author of the new book 'A Year in My Garden' that will be available in the US next February on Amazon (it's available in the UK sooner, however).

Here in the states you may know of her work in planning the fantastic bulb palette at the Chicago Lurie garden, (or that blue allee of scillas and other blue minor bulbs at the Bedford, NY home of Martha Stewart). Jacqueline's slide show was very inspirational for me, as not only do I enjoy seeing how others combine their bulbs, but it changed how I think about choosing and planting bulbs. You can visit her website to see how she combines bulbs and plants, but I'd say get her book as well. She layers a matrix across an entire garden or bed, often mixing bulbs within perennials and grasses as the Dutch tend to do to make gorgeous communities of plants.

I should mention that the other two speakers were Paul Zammit - the Director of Horticulture from the Toronto Botanical Gardens, and Fergus Garrett of Great Dixter. (I know, right? How could I forget that line up?). Fergus had many slides with bulbs, as did Paul who showed them mostly in containers, but still so inspirational. Seeing three accomplished gardeners share their ideas on what one can do with bulbs had me staying up all night ordering tulips. These seminars are dangerous.

Now, this year, I was a good boy and ordered many of my tulips and bulbs earlier (just a few weeks ago), starting with bulbs sell out quickly, a(mostly Madonna lilies) and galanthus varieties so with me, a deadline is always good, but for everything else, I keep stalling and making list after list, usually committing only once I start seeing my favorite varieties selling out. I hate that feeling. My problem is usually that I cant make up my mind.

In gardening, we are often taught to plant great numbers of one variety together, and while this works well with many plants, it can be boring. Imagine this bed of tulips with two more varieties of contrasting or similar colors, or smaller bulbs are perennials scattered throughout.

Jacqueline van der Kloet focused three points - the color palette, the transitions between the various bulb seasons -and how to integrate bulbs into borders or with other plants. So imagine a bed of perennials and interplanted bulbs through the entire spring season. It can begin with smaller bulbs, the early ones like snow drops and crocus, and then transition along with early emerging perennials into one stage of early to mid-season tulips and maybe narcissus in one color palette, and then how that same bed could move into a late-spring statement, maybe with giant alliums and the tallest tulips that were late-blooming. I think in this country, we forget to weave in a web of densly planted bulbs of many types within our perennial borders. Instead we either clump types together, or we place a few allium and call it a day.

Both Fergus and Jacquiline used similar varieties as well, which surprised me as maybe I was missing something. Sure there were muscari and scillas set out as a carpet - even forgetmenots, self seeded in pools of color usually over planted with a red or apricot Darwin or early tulip, but then tall and magestic late blooming tulips scattered throughout a bed with emerging perennials took over - and more than one color sprinkled around a border as if they too self seeded in amongst the perennials and other bulbs. Both used lily-flower tulips that bloom late, but are very tall - like brilliant orange 'Ballerina' tulips and 'Merlot', a deep wine colored one with vase -shaped buds. Two tulips I would never think of buying when I see them in catalogs.

A mid of colored tulips works well, but while this formal English bedding scheme of nothing but tulips works here at Tower Hill; Botanic Garden, few of us have the time and dollars to pull out an entire Victorian bedding scheme once it is complete to install something else. I do plant a few rows like this around the garden, near the greenhouse or along a drive, but always remember that you can create your own mix of tulips and sprinkle them through a border of perennials.

Top back this up, 'Merlot' shows up frequently on top Euro garden designers 'favortie plants' lists. So I need to order some, as apparantly the color blends in well with other plants, and it is of a shade of purple that works well in the garden. I mean - let's face it, some tulips in purple are too dark or just receded when viewed in the garden. Others are too lavender, or feel out of place in the natural setting.

Now here's the thing about tulips - something I learned early-on in my career when I used to help install spring flower show displays in the late 1970's - There is hardly a bad combination of colors when it comes to tulips. So honestly, mixing up a bunch of similar or even different colors is often not a bad idea. Most colors work well, but if you are committed to a scheme or want to curate a particular palette, it's not a bad idea to mix three different varieties of the same or similar color. A peachy pink, a dark pink and a magenta, for example. Many of us have learned this lesson with dahlias, but now let's take it to tulips. I want to plant a bed of all the red tulip shades together to see if it will convince me that solid red tulips can be beautiful in the garden.

Tulip colors are often much more complex than we imagine that they are. A wine colored variety with an orange one may seem like it wouldnt work, but once you examine the colors in a petal, you can begin to see the variety of tones and layers in a blossom that might make you rethink how you combine colors. Solid or bi-colored pre-curated mixed sometimes feel sterile compared to a complex mix of bulbs.

We tend to make crazy rules about color, which I understand but not if you have never grown that particular plant and have seen it in flower in your garden. I've worked with a few clients this spring who had very strict rules about the colors they wanted with their tulips. And while I tried to convince them that in springtime, combinations like orange and purple are extraordinary once viewed in a spring garden (particularly one that is still mostly brown or grey, with lime green growth emerging) but I think many people just imagine a harsh Sunkist orange (as in a closeup of a tulip photo in a catalog) and seeing the entire picture - meaning, the low-angle setting spring sunshine which is so bright and direct, especially when it illuminates the petal from an angle, and the atmospheric tones of a spring garden - mostly every shade of greyish brown - essentially a canvas of earthy colors (more grey on overcast days, and more chocolate and cocoa on sunny days) all with speckles of lime green foliage on branch tips, or reddish emerging tips on perennials).

Look at the colors on this parrot tulip. On an overcast day, it's almost blue or violet - yet a photo in a catalog may look simply bright red. Light is everything when it comes to tulips and most bulbs, and the fact that this purple-blushy red tulip blooms when the garden is still mostly brown, granite and grey? Means that it looks outstanding in the landscape.

We really need to think like artists or painters and not interior designers when we choose our spring palettes with bulbs (or even annuals). I mean - you may not be interested in white flowers, but snowdrops? How precious are those in February or March? You never think about a color palette when planting those bulbs. They 'fit' perfectly with dried woodland leaves, composting branches and bits of the remaining show.

'Black tulips' which are really dark violet, always seem like a good idea, but just be sure to site them well. They need distance behind them or light-green foliage somwhere to add contrast. If you do the often mimiced scheme of black and white together the effect can even be worse, as the white tulips will stand out and the dark ones will recede. Think first then plant.

So imagine tulips now. I've experienced great excitement with tulips that few might think are attractive in the garden - those bright yellow and red or maroon-streaked varieties like 'Hellmar', 'Gavotta' or brighter yet - 'Keizerkroon' or a favorite 'Bright Parrot' which to many with taste, may seem like a clown-pants inspired combo, but there is a reason why it is the one parrot that sells out first in most catalogs - when you see it in full bloom in the brown and grey garden of April? You instantly 'get it'. It 'works' then, and only then. Even better when combined with the deep purple of Muscari or the blues of hyacinths - I mean - It's spring 100%. And it's a combo that would never work in June or even in high summer where it truly would be considered tasteless and eye-bleeding, but in April or May? It is completely acceptable and creates joy in much the same way Easter pastels do in March, but never in October.

Here dark tulips set against a light background work great. Even on an overcast day.

Speaking of pastels colors and Easter colors - in the garden, that palette can often be dull. You need to push it a bit into Sweet Tart bliss with the addition of other candy colors to really make it work. What I mean is, again - a palette that can work in the grey and brown canvas of early spring will rarely work any later once the foliage emerges in the garden. I often have to remind new flower gardeners that while planning a garden in winter is fun and important (the process of cutting out photos of flowers from seed catalogs or using screen-grabs to create an idea board), the reality is often very different once you get the plants out into the garden.

Most tulips pair well with each other, but I find that the pure or solid colors like solid pink or solid red are often the most difficult to use outdoors. Be open to using shaded tones, light orange to dark orange combined with purple, or many shades of orange (which in tulips often include bits of pink) combined with other colors.

We should all pay attention to the total atmosphere of space. Reflected light, the angle of light, what the plants will be set against, a dark hedge or a distant view, even a fence that is painted white. Remember that the real garden experience is often missed by planning merely on paper or on-screen. More often than not, we forget that a garden is mostly all green (or brown and tan in spring).

Similarly to the black-tulip -juxtaposition concept, lime green and burgundy foliage on perennials and shrubs in early spring can be used as a great effect with tulips. Notice the tulip foliage which often is a harsh, kelly green that does little to enhange the blooms, but the gold tradescantia and peony foliage add as much color to the canvas as the tulips do.

I like to encourage folks to first take notes and digital photos (scroll back on the pics you took the past few seasons - flag those that worked, or ones that revealed insights that surprised you, and also mark what didn't work. I do both, and often my notes in a notebook are the most useful, then backed up with photos that are visual. In this way, my handwritten notes reminded me that all of those borders with purple, white and pink tulips I saw at posh suburban gardens were - well, yawwwwnnnn. While a few with the sparkle of Princes Irene orange tulips and violet tulips with an underplanting of Muscari were 'wow'.

Tulip 'Princes Irene' is a long-time favorite of mine. Many might think of it as simply an orange tulip, but depending on the light that particular day, it can look burginy feathered with a blush of lavender frost across the entire petal, or purple againse persimmon. It pairs perfectly with blue Muscari or scilla. It's dark stems too make it a standout in a spring garden.

The combination made my heart race and it felt like spring. I also noted down why, because Princes Irene is a unique tulip - one that has a faint feathering on violet on the outside of the petals - over the 'orange' (and while I realize that orange is a polarizing color' this ain't no orange tulip - it's a complex blend of colors (like most good tulips) that changes over time. Once you add the airbrushing of pale lavender blush over the deep persimmon of the bloom and the violet feathering, along with the dark stems and foliage - and the underplanting of deep violet muscari, and you can instantly see why this is a favorite of botanical garden planners, good garden designers, and again, why it sells out early. Also, it was featured on the cover of last years' White Flower Farm catalog.

'Broken' or 'Rembrant' types are always a favorite with me.

WHAT I HAVE ORDERED FOR MY GARDEN

This year, I am ordering 100 each of the tall, lily flowered tulips - 'Ballerina' (orange) and 'Merlot'. If both experts use them in their gardens, I must try - and it does make sense, at least in dense, community plantings which are essentially the borders I have here (a combo of grasses, small shrubs, perennials and self-sowing annuals). I need tall tulips to emerge through all of the growth and to float above the bright foliage -much of which is lime green or purple.

'Gavotta' is a dark wine colored tulip with custard colored edges, another favortie of mine as it fits nicely into the landscape, but it is harder to mix in with other tulips.

I also am designing an earlier matrix of multi-flowered narcissus, muscari, scilla to provide early color, and a secondary palette of Early Tulips, that is more traditional 'spring', if you will - Easter candy-colored blooms ranging from 'Apricot Beauty' tulips, to lavender, ones white brushed with red, and pale yellow brushed with white 'Vancouver'. I love this combo which when combined with Muscari 'Valerie Finnis' reminds me of the old, spring flower shows that I used to go to as a kid at Horticultural Hall in my home town on Worcester, MA.

In the greenh

This winter I am forcing a collection of swarf iris -mostly Iris reticulata named selections, not just because they are easy, but because they are beautiful, and interesting when viewed as a collection with all of the varieties.
They are also rather inexpensive.

Let's not forget forcing bulbs. If you plant to do any forcing, these too are best to order first so that you can get them chilling. I'm planting my bulbs for forcing this week - as I need 16 weeks of vernal cooling. This year I am focusing on growing all of the dwarf iris I can get my hands on (so far 25 varieties of I. reticulata). They are easy (yes, I am lazy and impatient at times), and I can take them out from under then benches near the foundation where they chill near 38° F as early as New Years' Day, to provide a boost of spring color both in the greenhouse and indoors briefly in mid-January.

Iris reticulata bulbs are placed into plastic pots with a quick-draining potting mix, and kept outdoors until November or when hard-freezes threaten as I dont want the bulbs to freeze. They then are moved to a location which is dark and just above freezing until New Year's Day or after. For me, that's in the greenhouse on the floor under a bench but you might try an isulated beer cooler on your porch or in an unheated garage or shed that doesnt freeze.

Of course, paperwhites have been ordered - most of the various varieties because I love the scent of cat pee (really, they all smell good to me), and some smaller forcing narcissus - particularly the hoop miniatures, which have become very inexpensive this year for some reason (the 'Julia Jane' strain) which I pot up thickly in 4 inch pots. These too will add cheer in January and February.

I can already imagine what my plant windows will look like starting in late January with the forced bulbs, but it does take some planning -which is sometimes difficult in late summer and early autumn with other tasks calling you.

I am working of a bit of a mini-master plan of the garden, in an attempt to just be more mindful about what I plant. The new borders and walks where the putting green used to be, isn't complete yet as I spent the summer working on my new book, but there are spots where I want to plant different combinations of things. One side path that leads to the old stone long walk has about 8 feet shaded by a tall Picea japonica 'Skylands'. The soil here is perfectly loamy and well-draining, and I filled it with turks cap lilies (Asiatic pendant ones) last year, which did very well. I trialed a few Fritillaria pallidiflora here for the past two years, and they thrived so this year I am adding 40 more. A little excessive but I've learned that investing in a big show with some plants is much better than getting just 5, or 10. It's an excellent habit to exercise with any plant in the garden.

My TIp for you? Keep your tulip bulbs cool, and not indoors until you plant them. THe buds inside tulips can abort in room-temperature settings (like a hardware store). Also avoid discount tulips if they have been mistreatred - a local supermarket keeps thier bulbs outside too late in the season and I know they have frozen many times before being sold. Ideally, good garden centers will keep them in a cool room, and not expose them to hot temperatures. When in doubt, mail order is often the best way to get bulbs at the right time for planting.

Of course, before investing in significant numbers of one plant, it's always good to trial them. I have killed many fritillaria imperialis over the years, but I have one yellow one in a certain spot that has bloomed annually for over 20 years. In this spot, I want to plant a larger collection of them, but as they are costly to invest in, I will wait a year or two. This year I am still ordering a few smaller lots of other bulbs (tulips in various colors) and narcissus) to 'trial' as one really should observe them 'in the garden' on-site, to see how the colors really look in the unique light and colors of your garden. I sometimes just plant these smaller lots in the veg garden, because I can use them as cut flowers, moving them later if I love the combos into the borders.

Alliums were never really all that interesting to me, but lately, I've appreciated their value. I'm referring here to the large if not gigantic and tall alliums like 'Gladiator' and 'Ambassador.' While costly, (and always worth it if you can spare not eating for a month) when May arrives, one rarely regrets all of that ramen. To make things more afforable, I've learned to tier-out various large alliums, not buying as many of the super-sized ones, just a few. I plant 6-12 of each giant variety filling in with smaller ones. The reality ends up being about 25 per bed, but again, they are being mixed-together with other bulbs and perennials and together, put on a sensational show that doesn't break the bank.

Cut-flower farms for tulips are becoming more commom like this one in Rhode Island, but notice how the rows of colors are rather uninteresting. These places are a great place to see lots of varieties together though, and if labeled, make notes of how you imagine certain colors being planted together.

Jacquiline showed how she mixes and planted large amounts of bulbs in the mixed borders. She has her team mix up a batch of bulbs in a wheelbarrow and then tosses then into a border so that they land irregularly spaced. On commissioned sites, she has the border mown, so that one can see the bulbs, and then a team goes in and moving from one end of a bed to the other, they get planted.

Jacquiline did share a tip - which she sometimes has to use, which is after they toss around all of the bulbs, she sets out apples where the allium might go, as these are bulbs that are sometimes shipped separately and you don't want to shove a spade into an expensive fritillaria! While randomness is encouraged when spacing bulbs, there are placed were rows work (at least in my garden). I don't mind a tidy row of something lined along a path if it is well-curated with tiers and interest.

There have been years when I tried mixed that were just 'too expected' or too pretty, if that could be a thing. This mix just wasnt for me as it felt a little too contrived or matchy matchy.

Mostly though, all of us agreed that mixed planting is the way to go, with a natural approach that is both modern and respectful of nature. Such garden is not only good pollinator communities but ecosystems, a point Fergus made when they had Great Dixter audited recently (2017) to discover the biodiversity. I don't have the details as I forgot my notebook, but his first response from the government authorities on such matters was more of a nod, as they expressed that a 'garden' that is cultivated may not be as diverse as natural woodland or meadow would be. The results were staggering in favor of a garden is more varied - discovering even rare bees and other animals that shocked the auditors.

I think we get caught up in things like permaculture, so-called 'bad invasives' and native plants - all very important, of course, but we fail to recognize the complex plant communities of our own gardens. Great Dixter even established a Biodiversity Committee in 2012, a lesson that many American public gardens could learn from or introduce, as few of us think about biodiversity in the cultivated and curated garden. We know that pollinators appreciate a mixed community, but so do other species. Learning that these complex relationships exist in the artificial or curated space is proving to be just as important as those in wild sites. I really want to learn more about this in the future.

Don't forget to plant plenty of bulbs for cut flowers too. Often these choices are different than tulips I might choose for the borders. Darker colors are stylish now, and in a vase or indoors they can often be more effective than in the garden.

That does raise a point however, that I want to research more, after being prompted to consider writing about how spring bulbs are 'good for pollinators' by a gardening organization. As with most topics suggested to me, I started to dig a little deeper on the subject, always questioning and proof checking my sources to see, for example, if snowdrops are indeed an excellent source of pollen for early emerging bees. I quickly learned that no, they are not, as are not most spring-blooming bulbs. Sure, bees do visit these flowers, but often at risk. Honey bees may benefit the most (they are non-native, remember) but the native bees rarely visit these flowers, and aside from Bumblebees, few if any native pollinators visit imported plants this early in the spring. One study at Cornell even looked at how such plantings can harm native bees, acting like ' bird feeders' in winter - where finches and migratory seed eaters begin to depend on a site and source, that only briefly appears off-season, thus luring them into an environment that won't consistently deliver food and energy.

What I learned (briefly) was that native plants that bloom early are the best for native bees and pollinators. Pussy willows, for example, or Skunk cabbage. Shrubs that bloom early are ideal as well, as they last longer and thrive consistently when the weather is truly right where a snowdrop blooms when it is too cold, and while irresistible for pollinators, often attracts them to their death or crocus which will open for an hour if the sun is positioned to their liking and the temperature is just perfect, but will close as soon as a cloud passes over or when snow flurries strike.

It is bulb planting season but I cant start until next week. Still, keeping up with the orders as they come in is often a chore. My advice is to plant as they arrive, and don't save them up for a bulb planting day, as the task could be too much to undertake in a single day.

For now, I need to go plant bulbs as the boxes are arriving.

I know. Most of us don't have a team when it comes to planting bulbs. A task I always forget about until that time comes when on that gorgeous fall day, I have to commit to digging and planting a thousand bulbs by myself. Fergus had a slightly easier plan, and that was to set in one bulb at a time around existing perennials (which is what I will probably do). He

Lastly, you have permission to order all that you want now, as I just placed my orders today :)

One must protect one's resources~!

Some of last years tulips in my garden combined with primroses and anemones show how well many colors do go together.

It's Just Art. Curating Botanic Harmony and Some Common Sense Gardening

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Sun, 18 Aug 2019 21:04:00 +0000

Just as an artist creates a composition, what we choose to grow and how we combine it with others in the garden is

As with the arts (music, fine art, or any human creative endeavor), horticulture combines many fascets of influences to get to a new creation. It also involves talent, learned skills., and then, of course, nature itself - which we have very little control over. Gardening is part science and part art, but not always is it an equal split. That depends on our approach to gardening.

I'm often asked about a particular gardening trend, what I support, and what I don't do. While I'm honestly not trying to duck out of a direct answer, I feel that I do a little bit of all the trends combined. Gardening for me is more about the plants themselves. I understand and appreciate gardens and the gardeners who have created them regardless of their purpose. Yet while our garden isn't as noble as let's say a pollinator garden (comprised of just native plants)? It is a product of and a reflection of the folks who created it. A bit of this and that. I imagine that most people who garden have a garden like that.

What I can say is that this garden is not a purists garden at all. In fact, it's a messy, weedy collector garden (which is why I never have garden tours and rarely allow visitors as most people would be surprised by how messy it is. What you see here on the blog is carefully photographed to show only the nicer parts.

ORDERING IRIS AND BULBS
Yes, it's that time again. In fact, it's a little late to order some bulbs. I always seem to miss out on ordering the super rare crocus from Latvia or Lithuanian nurseries as the cut off date is Aug. 1, but I did just get a large order of Bearded Iris placed - something in the past I always missed out. Late summer is not only the best time to plant these rhizomes, but it's the only time to really get the greatest varieties from iris nurseries, All of the iris you find at garden centers come through 'the trade', and are generally older if not ancient varieties that meet some sort of criteria such as they don't mind growing in nursery pots, or they multiply well for the trade, or they are inexpensive to get because they are older varieties.

Most plant people will agree, while the commercial trade has plenty of extraordinary plants to offer today, even more are available from the actual plant breeders or specialty nurseries who carry hundreds of varieties that may never be selected for commercial propagation either because their color didn't meet a buyers taste level, or the plant grows too tall for shelves, or it doesn't bloom or grow well in a nursery container, or it doesn't propagate easily or quickly - the list is long, but I can say this - the finest looking plants never make the final cut for one reason or another.

I imagine that your garden is producing as well as ours is right now. I mean - it's mid-August, and tomoatoes abound along with cucumbers, peppers and herbs. I've found myself making seasonal favorites like gazpacho (because it is still so hot and humid) and Lithuanian chilled Beet Soup (with fresh buttermilk dill and hot, new potatoes set into the icy, bright pink broth. Classic summer fare around here when it is too hot to prepare anything in the afternoons. Any time of year other than August and these dishes would seem out of place.

The garden does dictate what we eat most of the time - whether we want it to or not. There are only so many days when I can eat yellow wax beans or sweet corn (well, nearly every day for the corn!). The rest needs to be 'put-up' which of course, always coincides with the hottest day of the year - just when you really want to be using a pressure cooker!

I'm not growing as many veggies this year as last, we don't really have the room, but the few tomato plants we have are keeping us surprisingly at our tomato limit. I usually over-plant but maybe just a dozen plants or so is really enough for two guys?

Late crops - those planted now for autumn and early winter harvest are becoming my thing lately. This year I have planted some branching purple sprouting broccoli, late winter cabbage, and kale. I've found that younger plants set out in August produce quickly as soon as the weather turns cool (which is only a month away!). The broccoli is new for me this year, and I'm trying not to use floating row covers on it - tolerating any insect damage and butterfly larvae until harvest, which should be after a hard frost. We'll see how that goes!

How many lilies are enough? I really don't know yet! I'm kind of reaching my limit though on fragrance in the house!

I do try to curate parts of the garden, but mostly what is 'curated' are collector plants grown in pots that go back into the greenhouse in the winter (camellias, succulents, bonsai) and the rest are whatever we felt like adding at the moment while shopping at Logees or at a plant sale.

Part of the 'collection' is the annual standby's - the old bay laurel topiary, a huge gardenia, about ten large tubs of citrus and agapanthus - all specimen plants that are hauled out of the greenhouse every spring, and dragged back in ever autumn. I sometimes call these the burdon plants, as, after ten years or so, you are just 'taking care of them', as they often lose their appeal, but they are too much of an investment in time and heat to let go of. This may be the year we do that, however, as not working anymore means that I should probably allow the greenhouse to freeze without heat for a few months. I know that I say that every year, but this time we may actually do it.

Another view of the deck planting this summer. A little bit of everything.

It may be good practice to learn to let go of some plants, especially those that can be replaced easily. Working as a horticulturist this spring and summer I've watched many nice homeowners in suburban Boston buy full-grown agapanthus and other container plants - wholesale, and in full bud to grow just as summer container specimens, and then allow them to freeze dead in the winter - treating them as annuals.

Somehow we are still living with our agapanthus collection as if we are on a big estate - dragging them into the greenhouse every fall, fertilizing them and dividing them, and then bringing them out in spring. This was the old way of keeping many conservatory plants in the North (I know, you Californian and southern growers are thinking "what's all this fuss about plain ol' agapanthus?", but they are a precious plant here in the North).

The Spencer sweet peas were very tall this year, and the flower stems longer than they have ever been. Most bloomed well into July but are just finishing up.

COMMON SENSE GARDENING

I get so many emails sent to me about all sorts of things, but soil management and fertilizing are the most common questions. Knowing what a plant needs is a good place to start, but that doesnt mean that you need to be a chemist and must adjust the iron or calcium in your soil. If you add plenty of organic plant material to your soil (i.e. composted leaves and maybe clean horse manure) all the nutrients a plant needs should be there. At least as far as vegetables goes.

Horse manure was certainly easy to come by a hundred years ago, but today that's a whole different story. I do use mostly manure in our garden, but it comes from our poultry coops. I will sometimes add lime as our soil is acidic, for ccertain crops that grow and access nurtients better in a slightly alkaline soil (like spinach, or with Christmas Cactus in pots, for example) but other than that, the only fertilizer I use is a chemical based one and only for plants growing in the greenhouse or in containers, as those are leeched out by heavy watering and are growing in a soilless mix.

I call this common sense gardenings, for most of the time plants tell you what they need. In our beds, the absolute finest treatment is a spread of compost and manure in the spring as a mulch, and then excellent irrigation through the summer. The annual flower beds I've planted this spring are taller than I am with this treatment.

I trialed some mini sweet peas this year, growing them in pots. I was very happy with the results. Hard to find, these came from the UK but I am on the hunt for more this coming year.

One of my favorite old-fashioned annuals (perennial, really, but an annual for most of us) is this white flowered Summer Gloxinia (Incarvillea sinensis). Very easy from seed, and just a terrific summer annual for containers, and one rarely seen.

Incarvillea sinensis, (summer gloxinia) is difficult to find at garden centers so you will need to raise it from seed, but that is easy once you find the seed! I bought mine from the British company Chiltern Seeds, and yes, they ship to the US. Start early underlights, and pinch them regularly. I planted about 9 plants in this 12-inch square slate pot, and it's been putting on a show like this since about the middle of July, and doesnt seem to want to stop.

I adore marigolds. I love the smell of them. and the smell of them. I do. These are from some some heirloom seeds grown by my good friends at Bunker Farm in Vermont. Definately my go-to source for rare or unusual annuals. These are 'Tangerine Gem and 'Cinnabar', both popular cut-flower farm varieties now but excellent for border that need height.

Scabiosa come into their own in the summer, and they last so long when cut for a vase. Sometimes longer than a week.

Another new favorire, and one I also got from Helen at Bunker Farm is this Rudbeckia triloba. I'm partial to wilder-looking rudbeckia more than the big, floppy hyrbids, and this one blends in so well in the garden, that I must plant lots of it next year. Easy enought from seed, I know that most likely it wont come back next year as most rudbeckia are semi-perennial, if not biennial in nature. It will always be safer to just plant lots of plants all toegher every year from seed started in mid-spring.

This is just one single plant, and look at it. Just a cloud of color, perfectly paired rusty tones with that chocolate button of an eye, and set against the agastache? I can only imagine what 24 plants together will be like. It's tall, nearly 5 feet but it has flowers from stem to stern. Or top to bottom, all open at the same time. I am really enjoying the color palettes in this garden, setting cool violets against the lime yellow of goldenrod and then pops of hotter colors like this. Gardening IS art!

I've added some new gladiolus to the garden this year. These are from a Czech Republic breeder and come in incredible colors like rust, grey and this meat color. This one is gigantic as well.

Seedling trumpet lilies showing some interestig color patterns are still opening in the new border. The lilies in the new border are planted with all sorts of natives and near-natives (like selected named and sterile forms of Goldenrod). Its definately a weedier or more natural style of planting though as I experiment with self-seeders, grasses and more pollinator plants like agastache.

Trumpet lilies just starting to end their show in the long border.

I've added a few new species lilies to the garden this summer. They provide the 'look' of native lilies, but our local L. canadense remains something that grows better in our woodland, but sadly most of them are lost due to a neighbor and his obsession with filling in a wetland behind our property.

'Tiger Babies' is a strain of L. lancifolium with pink tiget lily like blooms. I am a sucker for any turkscap-type lily or an Asiatic that is pendant. My first choice for all garden lilies. Another great lily for a more natural look.

When was the last time you saw this plant? I think of all the Amaranthus, this one A. tricolor is my favorite because it is so showy and uniquely so - just try fitting this into a color scheme or designer garden. Maybe a lakeside motel? That's what the color palette reminds me of. Barkcloth from the 1950s or lithographs from the 1800s. Whatever - it's totally old fashioned, vintage and rarely seen today - which means that it makes the cut in my garden.

Agapanthus blooming in the gravel garden. These are all in tubs and pots and are loaded with buds this year after transplanting 2 years ago. Some are 5 feet tall.

CONTAINER PLANTS

There are many potted plants here, which are easier to care for but which do take some time to water - daily. Their fertility needs to be adjusted through the summer, and many must be repotted as the soil acidity changes over a year in the same pot. Christmas cactus are repotted with a bit of lime, and in a loose mixture of compost and coir potting mix (professional potting mix), as they in particular do better and turn dark green when grown in fresh potting mix that isnt acidic.

Agapanthus are repotted or topdressed annually, but only divided every 4 or 5 years. They get a scoop of a slow-release Osmocote, (20-20-20) in the early summer, as do most of our plants. The citrus get a higher dose of iron, and an annual refresh of their soil with a new bag of ProMixBX. This keeps the flowering well and dark green with lots of fruit. Sometimes they get a booster of iron chelate but only if the soil is fresh.

What I do appreciate about out agapanthus is that they are varieties not commonly found in the trade. Most of the varieties found here in the North are commercially grown and forced into bloom early (really - most gardeners here think that they naturally bloom in early June becasue the plants that come in for mid-May sales are already well budded). Even the garden center sales people at the wholesale nurseries here tell me "oh, they'll bloom all summer, don't worry abour them being almost through flowering in late May.") which is incorrect, of course. Our plants that were wintered over in the greenhouse bloom in Late July and August, and some of these varieties like 'Storm Cloud' are 5 feet tall. This is the way to grow agapanthus. Huge tubs with tall stalks and buds that emerge in mid-June.

Of course, flowers next year on agapanthus means that you need to care for your plants well this current summer by feeding them. for their embryonic flower buds are forming now for next year. This means plenty of water, a balanced feed (10-10-10) and not allowing the crowns or roots of the plants to freeze. I'll be sharing more info on how to get massive and gorgeous agapanthus plants in the North, in my new book 'Mastering the Art of Flower Gardening' that comes out next year, (sorry, it was time for a pitch!).

A few agapanthus taunting the hummingbirds this summer.

Gardenias are treated exactly the same way as the citrus, but the camellias get special care. Always top-dressed with new ProMix and then shredded bark wood mulch, and a sprinkle of Cottonseed meal on the surface of the soil (slow-release nitrogen), but also a liquid feed for acid-loving plants at half strength. Most of the camellias are growing in 12-inch pots and won't be transplanted for many years. Their soil becomes depleted quickly.

Just have to share these begonias from our deck. Can anyone really have too many begonias in summer? Most look best near the end of August, even those that barely survived a winter indoors and lost all of their leaves. Repotted with fresh soil and summer shade and humidity - they do this.

Begonias all go into fresh commercial potting mix in early summer. If they didn't, they would just do practically nothing in their old mix. A bit of a slow release fertilizer in each pot (a teaspoon) and some additional compost keeps them growing strong and healthy.

In the borders little is done for fertilizer in the summer, as mostly the rain and compost is doing the trick. Some slow-release organic feeds that were applied when plants or bulbs were first planted are still doing their thing (kelp meal, bone meal, lime) but in the spring next year I may hit some beds with a sprinkle of superphosphate if I cant get a manure mulch from a horse farm.

A rejected cover shot from my new book 'Mastering the Art of Flower Gardening' due out next year.

Mid-Summer Update

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Thu, 25 Jul 2019 17:13:00 +0000

I don't know how the weather is where you live, but here in New England, it's suddenly summer. Mid-summer, in fact, and while spring has been extraordinarily cool and wet, we finally had some of that hot and humid weather the east coast is so well known for. You may all know that I am a winter person, but there is no denying that the plants love this heat and moisture. I always notice that it is the week after the Fourth of July when the tropical, warm-loving plants really begin to show us why we invest in them each year. Particularly the alocasia and colocasia. These 'elephant ears' just sit there for most of June, probably stretching their roots a bit but basically doing little more than thinking about growing, but after a week or two of hot weather combined with near 100% humidity - things begin to transform quite literally overnight.

The deck planting this year is completely random due to my schedule and projects. This was the first year that I just took all of the extra plants laying around the greenhouse that was not used in client gardens and shoved them all together into spare containers. Yet look what happened? Everything seems to work together. Red flowers, dark leaves, and lime-colored foliage along with jewel-colored blooms has morphed into this jungle of color that I just love. Even lotus in a tub of water.

OK, now for some messyness. I know things seem to always look nice in photos, but look closer here - weeds everywhere.

Messy! Before clean-up - Our long-walk has a long history here as it was built by my uncle Frank and my dad back in 1926. I know this because I have photos of it being installed. 200 feet long has transformed over the years but this year it was just a weed mess lie everything else in the garden. That 'Haas Halo' row of hydrangeas is something that I think needs to be extended down the entire walk.

THE LONG WALK

The long walk is a 200-foot long border and walk in our 3 generation garden (if we had kids it would be a 4 generation garden). Ever summer the walk is weeded -by hand, with knives and some home-made tools. It was a chore I had to do as a child and later one that I learned to loath as it takes an entire day or two on one's hands and knees. I use an old carpet to kneel on, and while it's a bit ile therapy, the sacrifice of time always puts it off later and later.

To make matters worse, old gardens mean more invasive plants, and as plantsmen, we have more invasives than anyone should have to deal with. This means that bamboo's, self-seeding vines, wisteria, and countless other annual weeds run amuck on one side of the border, and on the other side, a hedge of European Hornbeam that has been pleached (or more accurately, trimmed). Not exactly low-maintenance, but then again, I have never claimed to be one who chooses low-maintenance solutions (weird, especially for someone who hates garden work, and who can't afford to hire help as well).

My mom hand weeding 'the walk' in the 1960s.

This walk has been transformed over the 90 or so years that it had been here. I mean, in the 1920s and 1930s this humble country garden in a small city was really just a typical arts & crafts movement garden of that era - straight lines, a formal layout, and really rather typical for modest New England homes who first decided to layout and landscape their backyards. I have an old Fletcher Steel landscape book just focused on his suburban backyard layouts. Two or 4 acres like this property often just had a few straight hedges, walks, birdbath, gazing ball, and fish pond features, and the typical clothes drying area, chicken coops and someplace to hide the trash.

Our long walk ran alongside this green, and today Joe and I argue most about how hard it is to maintain, discussing whether we should just remove the rocks that have been there for so long, and just make it a gravel walk, or should we buy lottery tickets so that Power Ball could fund the care of it and the entire garden? Even today, I received a call from someone who either saw photos of our sweet peas in a Martha Stewart magazine or in Better Homes & Gardens, hoping to snatch a garden tour - and I laughed. Later explaining that our garden is not some fancy, garden-tour-type of garden. No 'open days'here! Unless you want to come weed!

My dad and his dog 'Flash' taken around 1926 on the long walk. At that time it had wild blueberries planted along one side, and delphiniums on the other.

My dad used to spread rock salt on the walk, which is how he used to control the weeds. Not completely environmentally sound but he was from another generation, and while still a big environmentalist his entire life, never saw the harm in using salt to kill the weeds. Many have told us to just use an herbicide, but we aren't about to take that route either, nor would we use vinegar for that too has its issues, and won't work anyway on the perennial weeds. Hand weeding on hands and knees remains the only way to get a tidy look. Then, hedge sheers on poles for the hornbeams.

A view (from our roof) of our back yard circa 1950 showing how formal everything looked. The golf green is on the left.

Another view of the walk. Photos like these showing tall trees, then no trees, then tall trees again help me confront making major changes to the garden as they reinforce the notion that garden does change and evolve continuously. All of this as we contemplate cutting down some 100-year-old trees and many 30-year-old trees.

Here is the walk after we weeded it and trimmed the hedges. A little manscaping always helps, but there is plenty more to be cut. The giant 15 foot tall Joe Pye Weed that self seeded into the walk on the left was something we were going to remove, but then it bloomed. What do you think? On the right in the foreground, look at how nice the Anemonopsis are going to look!

The walk is also strategically positioned so that one can view it from the kitchen sink.

I've also been busy photographing garden flowers for my upcoming book Mastering the Art of Flower Gardening, but 98% of the shots will never make it into the book. My problem now is how to store all the shots and data as my laptop - even at this moment, is nearly out of memory.

This was the year that I skipped growing vegetables (except tomatoes) to make more room for flowers as I needed props, and I have this thing that every shot in my books needs to be photographed by me, or grown by me. A concept that I really should step away from as it takes so much time and effort, yet I honestly believe that this is important and not often seen in many gardening books. It does drive my publisher batty, though! This never made it in, but I was thrilled to have finally found 'Geen Trick' Dianthus to grow.

Tithonia always have a place in my garden as it is the ultimate pollinator, and an essential component of the late summer displays, but generally we grow the orange form. This year I wanted to grow four color-forms that are not commonly found, particularly this golden-yellow selection which I found from the British seed company Chiltern Seeds. It's the perfect PMS 123 color that enhances other warm colors like magenta and purple.

In my new garden (where that golf green used to be) I have planted many annuals for the book, and while I used to plant most of these hardier and rarer types near the greenhouse, the dogs seem to have discovered digging, and I;ve given up planting there. This African Foxglove (Ceretotheca) towers above even the tithonia at this point in the summer, attracting its share of hummingbirds and bees to boot. I don't see any white flowers in this seed mix, but I know that I saved plenty of seed from our white flowered ones from last year. Say - do you think that I should start selling seed on-line? I've been tossing around the idea.

Ammi majus always performs best when it is self-seeded (and I don't mean direct-seeded). It's just one of those flowers like it's close relative Queen Annes Lace and most wild carrot relatives that share the self-seeding trait with the entire clan of umbellifers or shall I say, Apiaceae.

Speaking of Apiaceae, this white Ammi majus (or I think, 'Lime Green') was first tagged as something else - a Ferrula sp. but it is stockier and nicer than the pimnker forms.

Scene in the new boder with annuals, some grasses that I am setting out and a new Daylily.

This new border has allowed me to experiment boldly. My vision for the border is ultimately a more natural planting, aside from the boxwood edging. It runs parallel to the long walk, but about 50 feet to the left of it - which includes the entire space where the golf green used to be, and is comprised of another 200 foot long path - it's axis runs from the center of our living room window , through the middle of the garden directly to the old goldfish pond, and through the new gourd tunnel). I still need to find the perfect artwork or object to place in a cross walk where now an old urn sits, but this 'natural garden' concept may or may not work here. I have not decided yet.

I could say that I want low maintenance (right) but then I start sowing seeds of perennials and annuals, dividing perennials or buying 10 of these, and 20 of those....I can't help myself as this space is such a luxury, and I can go all 'Christo Lloyd' on the border - which is 12 -15 feet deep on either side. I know that eventually I will need to plant more grasses or even just go all 'hydrangea-crayzee' and have a no-weed garden - but for now, the reality is more like "Oh look - I can plant 38 snapdragons in this clump....""And 6 dahlias over here...." I need to stop becasue I am not going to have time to weed it all.

I am growing some rare gladiolus hybrids here. 'Rare' only becasue these came from Poland and the Ukraine, and prove to be some very interesting colors like chestnut brown and grey speckled with lavender - Eastern Europe is really making some leaps with gladiolus breeding and yes, I predict that once we are done with dahlias - the gladiolus may be our next 'it' flower.

So full-disclosure - I had this opportunity offered to me by a TV network who was interested in a series or a documentary about my work and garden (God knows why!) but I entertained it -pitching ideas for them about what might be interesting for their audience. The executives entertained the concept for a while, pushing it out further and further as I said 'how about sweet peas? How about the Winter Greenhouse? We landed on rare Japanese Chrysanthemums, how I grow and train them, so I invested in far too many plants this spring - most of which I am still growing and training, even though - I am sad to say - the deal is off as the network is reconsidering other projects. It still may happen, but yes - I am stuck with a few hundred pots of Japanese and exhibition chrysanthemums, and most bare spots in the garden and on the decks look like this - simply becasue I don't want to throw them out.

I seem to have been able to source most of the rare annuals for my book, but this is the third year that I am growing this one, and I just love it. Incarvillea sinensis 'Cheron White', also available from Chiltern Seeds. If you are familiar with the genus, it looks nothing like any other Incarvillea. Last year in Yunnan we saw three species, but only geophytes (bulb types) not this one which is one of 16 species native to China, but is an annual. Started in the greenhouse in February, I have planted all of these in slate containers (cubes) and have found that 6 or so plants per square foot will give you the best display.

Another self-seeder, this Amaranth with red leaves self-seeded in another walk (nothing like it's parents which were thin-leaved forms), this often self seeds at a local flower farm I know, but I have only had other species self sow. I have left them to grow tall, and tall is an understatement, for they are now near 7-8 feet tall.

It's July and that means lily season. I missed our annual Lily Show at the Tower Hill Botanic Garden and the New England Lily Society but I learned that they held their show this year at the Arnold Arboretum nearby here, but I could not make it. I can't blame them as this year NALS hosted both the National Show and the International Show. This yellow trumpet seedling is ridiculously fragrant.

I've grown so many lilies this year that the fragrance is intense, and we sit there saying "should we move the vase? Or tolerate it as long as we can?" every evening. This arrangement is about 4.5 feet tall, which you cannot tell in this photo. That's a 14-inch urn. So moving it would not be easy. Still, this is summer, and we both love the scent which reminds me of both my early experience with Lily Society shows when I was a kid in the '70s at our local Worcester County Horticultural Society shows every summer. Nerd.

A New Garden Blooms, a Career Adjustment, and My 2019 Projects (finally).

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Mon, 17 Jun 2019 00:21:00 +0000

I could just call this post "June in Rain" as we here in the northeast are experiencing what may be the wettest and coolest spring ever. Not that the plant's mind at all, for them, this wet weather without the high, humid temperatures is like living in Seattle. Thank goodness too, as this year - as I prep for my next book on flowers, I am focusing on growing many - oh so many - cool-weather annuals. I, and the plants couldn't be happier.

Personally, as you can tell, I haven't been posting here much - that was due to my job as a horticulturist for a landscape firm in Boston which while I loved, was proving to be just too much given the schedule and the commute. My writing for my book was suffering (getting up at 4:30 am and commuting at least 2 hours in traffic each way was just exhausting). And while I loved the people and especially the clients, I proposed a change to my schedule - and now will be shifting to a part-time position. Sure, I loose insurance and benefits, but I really feel as if I need to focus on my writing and my personal growth with my own intellectual property too - I really wasn't giving it any time to grow ever since I left Hasbro - now two years ago. Last year, if you remember I did 'invest in myself' and went on a botanizing trip to Western China (Yunnan) for a month which was an incredible opportunity. I need to do more things like that rather than design containers around swimming pools. Both are important of course, as is making money but -- I have far too many irons in the fire right now, as well as some very exciting opportunities in the future which I cannot talk about yet, so I amd saying "Matt, just hang in there and see what develops for another year or so.". I tend to get impatient and jump from projects if they don't prove growth worthy immediately. I need to learn patience.

While much of the garden was neglected due to my job this spring, the alpine troughs seemed to do just fine with no attention, especially this clump of Saxifraga longifolia, a single monocarpic plant that bloomed tall and lovely last summer died, but from its roots emerged these plants - all kin that were starting to send up tall wands of flowers a few weeks ago.

So, here I am again folks. Finally posting, and focusing on my summer in my garden again. Working on my next book and trying to blow the deadline as those dates were slipping away quickly.

And here is how they looked last week. I so appreciate the alpine saxifrages for their sturdiness in troughs. So much nicer than sempervivums (which are fine, but rather ordinary and a bit too easy for me so I stay away from most as I like a challenge). Plant snob, I know, but hey - I like uniqueness and special plants.

Even though I seemed to spend all of my time working since March, I was able to raise plenty of plants for a new garden which we started last June, but one that remained fallow all summer because I was in China much of last May, June, and part of July. This garden sits directly in the back yard, smack in the middle with a view from our new window that we put in this past winter. It's where my parents had a golf green - a putting green of all things, complete with bent grass and metal holes with flags - weird because no one in my family golfs, but it was constructed in 1926 by my dad and his brothers who all spent their summers working as greenskeepers at a golf course just at the end of our road. There they were also able to use the greenskeeper shed as their clubhouse (which historically is significant as they shared it with Robert Goddard. the father of modern rocketry - (as in the Goddard Space Center). He shot off his first rocket from their golf course, and my dad and his brothers were all there laughing at "the crazy scientist". Kind of like the movie 'October Sky'.

I missed sharing so much this spring. - like this Podophyllum 'Spotty Dotty'which not only has colonized a bit with three tall specimens, it has also seeded around a bit. Not a bad weed to have!

That golf green was lovely, but high maintenance as it required a special mower that eventually broke. So after my father died (at 100 in in 2014) we let the lawn grow in, and now, in an effort to remove all of our lawns, I decided to just make the entire back yard a massive garden. planted with perennials and plenty of annuals, which has been my focus this year.

My new garden where the golf green used to sit consists of two long borders and a gravel path that is roughtly 80 feet long and has two borders about 14 feet deep on either side. This year it is mostly planted with rare annuals and some perennials, lined in boxwod and eventually lined with cobblestone once we win the lottery. It's always nice to have a grand vision! How do you like our new windows? This is a view I have never shown before on the blog as there used to be an ugly bow window circa 1966 there.

This new garden still needs work as we just started laying out gravel walks and boxwood hedging. I have yet to decide on whether it will be brick paths or peastone. I also have just set temporarily an old rusty urn in the center, but I am looking for the perfect sculptural object (like this amazing sundial on a concrete or limestone pillar that I saw at Trade Secrets but regret not investing in). For now, it's a little cliche, but the urn will need to do as I am on a tight budget. Health insurance and mortgage you know. Some things come first.

OK, here I go - sharing an embarassing shot but really - this is what the garden looks like right now. I have invasive bamboo (Sasa japonica), weeds, and still need a few tons of pea stone or brick to cover over the crushed rock that we laid down last june, but really - I garden is never really done, right? At least we got the new window finished, and moving onto the other windows. They will eventually be black, but this one was too late to alter so it's sashes will be painted black.

SOme of the rarer annuals I am growing is this Monkey Flowers.

Schizanthus blooming in the new border.

I am raising plenty of rare and unsual annuals for this next book project. Ones that I have either grown before and failed at, or ones that are so challenging that I have really had to master them before I could feel comfortable writing about them. SOme, like this Schizanthus I havent grown here since I was in high school (really!). I remember my parents taking me to Buchart Gardens in Victoria BC and they had a greenhouse (it was September) full of potted Schixanthus. It was 1976 and even though I only had a home-made greenhouse that my dad had made me, I raised a crop that was pretty successful but I had failed ever since. I think that that greenhouse was cooler than the one I have now, and that mayhave helped.

Nemesia has always been a favorite border plant here, especially since one rarely finds it at garden centers - until now though, as new hybridizing has brought Nemesia to the forefront - with Proven Winners selling a few strains and a few other branded forms. This one, however, is still rather uncommon. This is Nemesia cherianthus 'Masquerade',a pretty named selection of our Californian native. More understated than any of the newer hybrids, it is lovely in a big Guy Wolff pot on the walk where it has been blooming since late March. You will probably have to raise this beauty from seed as it will be hard to find in the trade, but it is worth adding to your spring line-up.

This is one cool-weather annual you may find at a good garden center - Mimulus x hybridus 'Monkey Magic' (becasue it's commonly called Monkey Flower). Botanically this may be Diplacus now, but I'm not going to get too geeky here.

Mimulus - all of them, make excellent container specimens in the spring. They'll fade once it gets hot and humid here, but I like to plant 12 inch clay pots with them. 0 a different species or hybrid in each one, usually about 6 plants per pot. I am not one to mix plants in containers -rather, I prefer to combine different pots of specimen plants together into curated collections which I can edit rather than make 'floral arrangements' in one container.

Speaking of California natives. - this is a beauty right? So rarely seen in gardens is this easy-to-grow annual that thrives in long, cool sprin weather such as we are having right now. Phacelia campanularia or the Californian Bluebell make a sensational statement in the border with its true-blue blooms and purple-tinted foliage. It too will collapse once the weather gets hot and humid here, but right now? It is king.

The late Beth Chato was mad about here poppies, particularly this one which is commonly referred to as "Beth's Poppy', a gift from garden designer and nursery woman Helen O'Donnel in Vermont who rasies so many lovely hard-to-find cool-weather annual that she sells for a few weeks in the spring. A real treasure, this annual is Papaver dubium ssp. lecoquii var. albiflorum. It lacks the grey spotting at the bottom of each petal so I am not exactly certain about the species but Helen did get it from friends in England and I still treasure it - saving the seeds, of course.

Another view of the new border with pink Vaccaria and scarlet Emilia in the foreground. Two other rarely grown annuals.

Of course, Salpiglossis or 'Bearded Tongue' is a must for any old fashioned flower border. These are just coming into bloom, and are plants that I will lift in the fall to bring into the greenhouse for some winter color as well.

Annual phlox has always been something that I had wanted to master - again, since high school - ever since I read Ruth Stout's book The No Work Garden where she wrote about a circle of Phlox drummondii that she would sow at the end of her driveway. Actually, that would be in Junior High for me, as I just found the book and saw the inscription in it with the date 1971 from my Mom who bought it for me one summer in Kennebunkport, Maine when we would be there on vacation. Ugh. I was such a nerdy kid! You would think that I would want a book on baseball or something?! The greenery in the foreground will prove to be a stunning strain of Clarkia once it blooms. Can't wait. Oh - the Phlox is 'Creme Brulee'.

Shirley Poppies just coming into bloom late this year. Plenty more of these to come soon.

A quick, rather thoughtless bouquet that looked old-fashioned enough so I took a photo of it.

Now, this IS a trumph for me. If you follow this blog then you know that I've been trying to master growing Mignonette for years now. Finally! I've done it. It's fragrance is milder than I imagined, but certainly oldfashioed. - like violets or cotton candy? Maybe talc. I imagine that this is what Mary Todd Lincoln smelled like. (Wierd, but ...right?)

While I am on the subject of things that I have always tried to grow. - I finally found big carnations to try. This new strain called 'Pinball Wizard' comes so close to the big, cut flower carnations but it is classified as a garden pink. Still, it looks like a carnation and better yet, it smells like one too. I know, I know....with the baby's breath behind it I am kind of making a homage to tbe 1980's florist shop - but why not?

Gilia tricolor is another one of the rarely seen annuals that might be worth growing. I have planted two beds and some pots with this precious little thing, and while the plants are skimpy, they are starting to take off (with weekly pinching). The flowers though are beautiful and with baby blue pollen, even more special.

Vaccaria hispanica, or Cowcockle is something that I have tried many times, and this year I have had the best luck - both with direct sowing (which is the proper way to grow this speedy old-timer) but also with transplants using deep root cells. This area in the new garden has about 150 plants in it and it is just abuzz with pollinators and loaded with flowers. The pink is so nice in the garden, not a harsh pink but one that fits in with everything around it, that I am addicted. It's a brassica, so yes, the bunnies like it, but there is plenty to go around.

I am growing plenty of tall, English Spencer sweet peas this year again for the book, but I am also trying some very old-fashioned dwarf sweet peas from England like these. Only a few inches tall, they are filling out some nice old clay pots with thier first fragrant blooms. Maybe these 'knee'hi's' and 'Cupid' strains will make a comeback again? They are hard to find right now, and the strains are rather muddled as you can see, but with some careful selection, I could see these being popular as they were in 1900.

Cerinthe major (and C. minor) are so easy to grow from seed, that I have no idea why more people are not growing these stunning annuals. Now I am planting large areas in the borders with them.

I know, I promised that I woudl talk about my projects this year. Yes, I am growing lots of sweet peas again after taking last year off, but also - a big Japanese and exhibition chrysanthemum project is underway. HUndred of cuttings are ready to be transplanted for a special late autumn project I am working on

We are also trying a collection of Lotus in pots and containers. Both giant selections and tiny, if not miniature ones like these tea-cup sized lotus.

That's it for now. Lots more pics to come of the new garden and even other projects as I get my feet back on the ground! Happy late spring!

MY SPRING VISIT TO SNUG HARBOR FARM IN MAINE

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Wed, 15 May 2019 11:15:00 +0000

A couple of weekends ago I was thrilled to have been invited to Snug Harbor Farm on the coast of Maine for a book signing. A gem of a specialty nursery. and worth a visit if you can make it - just an hour and a half north of Boston.

We have some wonderful nurseries and sources for plants and accessories here in the Northeast but one, in particular, is quite extraordinary. Snug Harbor Farm located in Kennebunk Maine is one of the more special places worth a visit in you ever find yourself in New England. I've known owner Tony (Anthony) Elliott for years, and while I've written about Snug Harbor Farm from the first year that it opened I have never actually ever visited there. Why? I don't know other than I'm a pretty busy guy and now that my parents are gone I never seem to make time to go to Kennebunkport (where we spent every summer as kids).

Tony invited me up to speak about my book and to participate in a seed sowing workshop.

I was surprised then when I visited this weekend of where Snug Harbor Farm was. - right on route 9 about a mile from the Rachel Carson National Wildlife Refuge - a place where I would ride my bike often to go watch birds (geeky bird-watcher-Matt at age 12). I have to say that Snug Harbor brought back plenty of memories of Maine for me from the smell of the tidal plane and marsh grass to the sounds of gulls and terns. But what makes Snug Harbor special is what Tony and his talented team of horticulturists, stylists and workers have created - a menagerie, a botanic garden, a nursery - I'm not sure what to call it or how to describe it other than it's magical, and it recalls early visits I had made to the now infamous. Alan Haskell nursery in New Bedford, MA if any of you readers have ever had experienced that 'pleasure'.

Salvias, cut branches of crab apples and other shrubs forced into bloom along with cut flowers made the barn where I spoike and talked about my new book so beautiful.

Snug Harbor appeals to a wide audience, from flower lovers to succulent fans,there is hand made pottery and an entire indoor section with home goods that are well curated and stylish, but what they excel in are topiaries. Their signature look are tall, slender, pointed topiary and they are so well trained and tight that even I almost left with a few. I doubt that I could do any better - even though I have lots of experience in topiary craft.

Rosemary globes outside one of the greenhouses ready for sale. Each one perfectly and painstakingly trained.

Some greenhouses had long displays of potted plants that would run the entire length of the greenhouse. If you haven't noticed already, Tony styles every square inch making this plant very Instagram worthy.

Succulents and other sturdy plants for container planting are also a specialty. Tony offers selections that are rarely found at big box stores or garden centers, and most are displayed in long greenhouses.

This place is like your favorite lifestyle magazine or book come-to-life. Every corner reveals something else just as a good, inspirational book does. Hand crafted pottery, rare poultry, ccute animals, amazing hedgery, outdoor sculptures, original installations - hidden ideas are absolutely everywhere.

Tony designs pottery and it's everywhere around the farm. There are barns with old English pottery too.

Handmade pottery in one of Tony's barns.

As if the plants and pottery weren't enough, how about rare pigeons? This loft alone was photogenic, but these Frillback pigeons are a rare breed - check out their curly-feathers.

Our colder than average spring means that seedlings should be started later. Something you won't find at big garden centers who are all trying to push tender annuals far too early. Here, small seedlings will be perfectly timed for planting out at the proper size - which is small and based on weather trends, not marketing numbers. I love that. No growth regulators to stunt or force early flowering, and everything properly pinched and hardened off.

The craft of topiary isn't as easy to master as one may think, but as these myrtus show us, weekly. clipping and cold temperatures help create a tight, and proper specimen.

Few greenhouses offer such a selection or displays of succulents like this. I like how Tony's team displays plants on the upper shelves but then offers smaller plants below for sales.

Wow!

At Snug Harbor, the succulent collection is like the shoe department at Barney's or Nordstroms.

A trip here entertains, inspires and fulfills any need for regeneration of ideas. If you are a creative type like me, it's just. what one needs on a long, cold spring where it seems everything is behind. Now I want privet hedges, more cold frames, larger pottery, succulent collections on stairs and a psychedelic peacock.

At every turn, there is brilliantly sited artwork for sale.

Even these concrete spheres in front of the old chicken coop are fabulous and thoughtfully set out.

Inside the farmhouse store, more product in every room from fragrance to home goods.

Back to topiary. these are some of those trademarked shapes that Tony and his team at Snug Harbor do so well.

Hello! A lavender hedge.

Curry Plant sphere topiary - imagine the wedding that might get these?

Lemon cyperus hedgery - for the special client who wants to have an extra special terrace.

It was so nice to see other topiary that were more like something a real plantsperson might create too. LIke these Flowering Maples, which would take me a full year to get to flowering size for my containers.

Topiary filled at least three greenhouses. How perfect is this? If you could choose only one...which one would it be?

The Art and Craft of Mapling with the folks from MapleMama

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Mon, 06 May 2019 01:32:00 +0000

MAPLE SYRUP IS ABOUT AS OLD FASHIONED AS ONE CAN GET IN NEW ENGLAND BUT LIKE MANY ARTISIONAL PRODUCTS, INNOVATION IS CHANGING EVERYTHING. HERE IS A STORY ABOUT HOW ONE FAMILY NEAR ME IS USING MAPLE SYRUP TO CREATE A COMPLETELY NEW CRAFTED PRODUCT.

It's hard to avoid maple sugaring in much of rural New England, a season that sometimes begins as early as mid-February or as late as the end of March, as it was this year. Sugaring season is when the daytime temperatures rise above freezing during the day but drop below freezing at night, and it ends once the sugar maples bloom.

MAPLE SUGARING SEASON STARTS WHEN THE DAYTIME TEMPERATURES RISE ABOVE FREEZING BUT THE NIGHT TEMPS DIP BELOW 32° F. JOE LAUR, OWNER OF THIS PROPERTY CHECKS HIS SAP BUCKETS DAILY WAITING FOR THE SEASON TO BEGIN. THIS YEAR IT STARTED IN MID-MARCH.

The scent of maple steam wafting out of sugar shacks is everywhere, and it's just one of the joys of living in the Northeastern US. Sugaring is being rediscovered by an entirely new generation of course, just as other craft movements are so it's really not unusual to see sugar bushes (groves of sugar maples) with the blue plastic pipes running for hundreds of yards near most any farm. But thanks to my friend Cheryl who used to work with me at Hasbro, I was given a chance to see a real old fashioned maple sugar shack in action a few weeks ago - and now I think I am kind of addicted (as if I don't need another reason to move to the Berkshires or Vermont!).

I REALLY APPRECIATED THESE METAL. SUGARING PAILS AS MOST NEW ENGLAND SUGAR BUSHES USE BLUE PLASTIC FLEX TUBES WHICH ARE MORE PRACTICAL, BUT SOMETHING GETS LOST IN THE EXPERIENCE GAME. WHEN SUGARING ON YOUR OWN FARM, THIS ENHANCES THE PROCESS.

NEW SUGARING TAPS ARE PLASTIC LIKE THIS ONE, AND ON COLD NIGHTS, THE SAP ACTUALLY FREEZES. (WHICH INCREASES THE SUGAR CONTENT WITH THE LIQUID THAT IS LEFT IN THE PAIL - YOU CAN ACTUALLY TASTE THE SWEETNESS!

My friend Cheryl convinced me (with just a phone call as it really doesn't take too much convincing) to go with her to a sugaring facility in western Massachusetts - and what I discovered was that conventional and traditional methods can be used today, especially if one is only making a few dozen gallons for home use (or for friends).

JOE LAUR OWNER OF THE MAPLE MAMA BRAND AND THIS GREAT AUTHENTIC SUGAR SHACK.

The owner of this small sugar shack is Joe Laur, and while I was not expecting what I discovered (the old-fashioned tap and bucket method he uses around his property), I was told by Cheryl that he (like us) was once in the corporate world, but now lives on a nice private farm-like property on a river and through the woods in the Berkshire mountains of western Massachusetts. Yes. I wanted to see this, for it will add to my dream of owning my own place and making maple syrup one day.

A SUGAR SHACK NEEDS LOTS OF DRY, AGED FIREWOOD. LOTS.

What I discovered was that while Joe makes syrup for friends and neighbors, what he does is own another company that produces not syrup at all, but a maple soda (oops, I mean a craft maple beverage- gotta love a completely new product!). Joe and his wife invented it themselves quite simply one day while trying to make a lower-sugar drink for their kids. Sparkling water flavored with maple syrup and whatever other fruit they had in the kitchen. What they invented was actually a healthy soda because as you probably know, maple has a ton of vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants.

JOE COLLECTS THE SAP DAILY ONCE THE SEASON BEGINS, AND THIS YEAR IT WAS LATE. SUGARING SEASON IN THE NORTHEAST USUALLY BEGINS IN FEBRUARY AND ENDS WHEN THE SUGAR MAPLE TREES BEGIN TO BLOOM, WHICH THIS YEAR WAS JUST A FEW WEEKS AGO.

In case you are interested - MaplemMama is relatively new, I know that he is offering it at some food festivals this coming year so look for it, and a few of our local Whole Foods carry it he says. Oh, there are flavors too. I didn't try the raspberry as for some reason I don't like the taste of raspberry but I think I could live on the Vanilla Bean and Lemon Ginger flavored flavors! I even looked for it at the Whole Foods in Cambridge this week (but couldn't find it), but it's now on Amazon too.

JOE STARTED MAPLE MAMA WITH A SIMPLE PREMISE - TO MAKE A HEALTHIER DRINK FOR HIS KIDS. IT HAS NOW GROWN INTO A BIGGER BUSINESS, BUT AT HOME HE STILL TAPS HIS OWN TREES AND BOILS HIS OWN SAP FOR FRIENDS, FAMILY, AND NEIGHBORS RIGHT HERE IN MASSACHUSETTS.

I'm not exactly sure why they named it 'MapleMama', but out in the forest, Joe showed me something that might be why. ( A 250-YEAR-OLD SUGAR MAPLE!). Joe asked us if we wanted to see the whole sugaring process up close from beginning to end. Of course!

WE WERE ABLE TO PRESSURE MY FRIEND CHERYL TO TAKE A SWIG STRAIGHT FROM THE SAP BUCKET. OF COURSE, IT HAD ICE IN IT TOO, WHICH WHEN IT RELEASED FROM THE BOTTOM, SPLASHED HER. SHE HADTO AGREE THAT IT DID TASTE VERY GOOD.

Now...if you knew Cheryl - this might just be the best part of our day in the woods. First, the entire idea of Cheryl in the woods is something worth photographing. First off, she didn't even have boots let alone sneakers or socks. What she was wearing was something like patent leather Chanel flats. Oh, Cheryl.

Holding her elbow though we helped her be a good sport and trudged through the snow, letting her step in the tractor ruts. Yup. Cheryl. Tractor ruts. I think she found it totally worth the effort though for a few hundred feet out behind the barns we came across the classic New England calendar motif of giant ancient sugar maples with gorgeous old galvanized buckets on them, each one full of maple sap. These weren't just for decoration, clearly, Joe was all about the total experience of sugaring. I get it. I would be too.

HOW PERFECT IS THIS - SUGAR MAPLE WOOD HEATING THE EVAPORATOR THAT REDUCES MAPLE SAP!

Maple sap is like water before it is evaporated over a few days in the sugar shack, but as Joe demonstrated - when it freezes, it condenses the unfrozen part which then tastes a bit sweeter and even a touch mapley. He handed me a bucket to taste (yes, right out of the frozen bucket) and then he handed it to Cheryl. Always a good sport, she sipped a few swigs but then the ice that was frozen to the bottom fell and maple sap splashed all over her Dior coat (or whatever coat it was). We all laughed, and I just wished that I had caught that image on my camera.

THE SAP THAT JOE LAUR COLLECTS IS BROUGHT DOWN NEARLY THE OLD FASHIONED WAY (BUT NOT WITH HORSE AND SLEIGH, BUT WITH A TRACTOR). IT IS THEN FED INTO A TANK THAT CAREFULLY ALLOWS IT TO FEED INTO THE EVAPORATOR.

Joe then took me deeper into to woods to see some other buckets and a few very old sugar maples - Acer saccharum - which he felt were over 200 years old. Given their girth (7-8 feet), they were indeed the 'Maple Mama's' of this farm. We carried some sap back to Joe's sugar shack to add to the evaporator that he has already had fired up.

FRESH MAPLE SAP LOOKS LIKE WATER, BUT IT DOES TASTE SLIGHTLY SWEET EVEN STRAIGHT FROM THE TREE. EVEN SWEETER IF IT FREEZES A BIT WHICH CONCENTRATES THE SUGARS.

Sap needs to boil down for a few days, moving from one chamber to another before being bottled. A slow process, but this is a leisurely lifestyle. We who still work can only dream of having the luxury of just sitting in a chair, sipping some maple tea (syrup poured into hot water) and watch the fire, stoking it from time to time from the wood pile. Ahhh.

IT TAKES A FEW DAYS FOR THE SAP TO REDUCE BUT WHO CARES BECAUSE THIS SLOW PROCESS IS WHAT MAKING MAPLE SYRUP IS ALL ABOUT. FEEDING THE FIRE, THE SMELL OF WOOD SMOKE, THE SCENT OF MAPLE STEAM. IT DOESNT GET MORE NEW ENGLAND THAN THIS.

JOE LEFT A JOB IN THE CORPORATE WORLD. (LIKE ME AND MY FRIEND CHERYL) TO DO WHAT HE LOVES MOST. ON THIS SMALL FARM IN THE BERKSHIRES OF MASSACHUSETTS WHERE HE HAS A LARGE VEGETABLE GARDEN, FRUIT TREES, A SWIMMING HOLE, SOLAR ENERGY, AND A SMALL BEVERAGE BUSINESS. PRETTY PERFECT LIFE, I'LL SAY.

I wanted though to give a shout out to Joe's Maple Mama Craft Beverage (it's non-alcoholic so don't let the word craft throw you!). I hope it takes off, not only because it's good but because I liked the whole family story behind it. There are other flavors like Cold Brew Coffee and more to come I hear, so look for it - maybe in a Whole Foods or in an organic section of your market.

LASTLY, JOE SHOWED ME SOME OF HIS OLD MAPLE TAP COLLECTION. HE HAS DOZENS AND DOZENS OF THESE, MANY MADE IN THE 1800'S WITH DATES ON THEM. AS A COLLECTOR OF. 'THINGS' MYSELF, THIS WAS ALL I NEEDED - TO DISCOVER SOMETHING ELSE TO COLLECT!

The Perfect Spring

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Thu, 25 Apr 2019 01:19:00 +0000

Primula elatior, the English Oxlip simple yet so rarely seen in American gardens. If you want your garden to look like the hundred acre wood, this is the plant to seek out. Will you find it? Probably not unless you raise it from seed or join the American Primrose Society. It isn't rare. Just hard to find as commercial growers ignore it. There is no Proven Winners Primula elatior. Popular in Shakesperian England, and still common there today. I grow mine from seed bought online from Jelitto in Germany. The easiest of all the primula, I think. Sow indoors or under glass in February, grow on and set out in early summer and they'll bloom next spring. Very cold hardy perhaps to zone 4. or even 3.

Gardeners love to complain about the weather. New Englanders love to complain about the weather, but this year, dare I admit that it is indeed the perfect spring, at least here in New England, and at least, for the plants. What is 'a perfect spring'? A long, slow and gradual thaw (with no surprise freezes which here in the Northeast still can happen until mid-May) and few extreme fluctuations. I can add no drought, although we are about 2" over our average rainfall. With all of this, the native plants are emerging slowly and steadily, and the imports (remember, so many of our ornamental plants are Asian) are gradually opening up.

The giant Butterbur or Petasites japonicus ssp. giganteus just emerged two weeks ago with cobs of purple flowers. Now, a couple of weeks later, the flowers are extending upwards and the giant leaves - which will gradually expand to nearly 3 feet across, are all on schedule.

Last week I spoke in Denver at the Denver Botanic Gardens for two days. - landing in snow or what they called a Bomb Cyclone, our plane was the last to land before they closed the airport, and what I experienced is very much the sort of spring we usually get here just outside of Boston. That would be a spring with surprise snow storms, ice and freezing temperatures that make mush out of magnolia flowers and bend over even tulips and hyacinths. Here? The primula species are emerging just as if they were growing in the Himalaya, or in the French Alps. The Asiatic species of garden perennials like the Rodgersia, Lilium and even the Petasites japonica are coming out of the ground and blooming later than normal, but nice and slow. The way it should be.

I am always picking up rare plants at plant sales or getting some as gifts. Here is one I completely forgot that I had (and there are two clumps!). Galucidium palmatum. Sometimes it's just nice to see everything before it opens up.

We had a mild winter here in Massachusetts but that didn't help our rampant population of bamboo which has become so invasive. This Sasa veitchii (the brown leaves at the bottom of the image) is now everywhere in our garden, and with culms and roots that reach down deep (nearly 2 feet) I cannot get rid of it. I am open to any suggestions. Please.

While often challenging as a bulb plant, the mostly native North American Dog'sToothViolet can be highly collectible and highly challenging. But this one isn't. Erythronium 'Pagoda' is a commercially (Dutch) grown common selection that is hardy and easy. You can get the look of an alpine meadow in the Cascades without spending 35 dollars a bulb.

I know, I know. Lots of invasives, but this native Podophyllum peltatum, our local and family Mayapple, is always a welcome sight in the spring. It never grew here on our family property and woodlands, but it was from a clump in a wild colony that Joe and I found back in the 1980's near his parents' house in Northborough, MA. Seeing it always reminds me of him digging a bunch and filling up the trunk of my new 1984 Fiero. Shut up.

We're all native now. Our native bloodroot, Sanguinaria is often overlooked for the fancier and showier double forms, but this one - again, from a wild-collected stock that I got while I was in College at UMASS. Of course, in the late 1970s and as a 18 year old, digging something from the wild wasn't frowned upon. In fact, our professor encouraged it. At least I still have the colony.

I guess digging from the wild is a theme here. Clearly don't do it boys and girls. Never dig in the wild. I was kid and not very responsible. Plus, I was a plant nerd and there was no stopping me. We now know better. Protecting our native and wild populations is what we are all about. Really. Still, there is a story here. This was collected by Joe and I around 1987 when we lived in upstate New York near Tuxedo Park and I was working in the city. Dutchman's Breeches or Dicentra cucullaria was running all over our property. Now, this population has spread throughout our woodlands.

Epimedium. This one from my friend Darrell Probst is from western China, but I include it because in today's gardens we often combine wildflowers from similar climates elsewhere in the world. Collected? Yep. But carefully propagated from seed not plants, and just like our diverse human population, our gardens can and often are just as diverse.

Even though I've been very busy with my new job in Boston, I need to be creative in finding any free time as I am still speaking on most weekends on my book tour. Not to mention that I am writing another book which has had to have it's deadline slightly extended (no worries, it will still come out next February). A book a year. - that's my goal. Here, English Spencer Sweet Peas are set out into the garden, this time in a column of pea brush (fothergilla). I chose 6 shades of purple and blue for this collumn. Curated colors look best.

I'm growing many annual poppies again, but remember -Irish Terriers rule the land here. I am being clever and using chicken wire and netting to keep these tiny seedlings safe. Sown a few weeks ago just as the snow melted, these Shirley Poppies were sown with sand and seed mixed together, and then sifted through a kitchen sieve onto lightly raked soil. They look big here but believe me they are tiny. This lot will need to be thinned soon, with the excess tossed because one cannot transplant poppies.

The classic Matt Mattus shot, right? I need new props. Oh...I. bought one - look in the photo below and see if you can see the new flat black Haws English watering can from Terrain. (it was an exclusive and limited edition color!).

Last year I started training some red-flowered rosemary into globes using armature wire. They are looking fine now. A classic English method that one can see at Great Dixter, and now here in Wormtown, MA.

Oh, Genista canariensis. You make the greenhouse so lemony! Really - true story. For my entire life, I could never smell this but Joe would always tell me that it scented the entire greenhouse with a rich lemon Pledge furniture Polish scent, yetI could never smell it. At all. Nothing. Yet, this year? I can smell it. Weird, right? Although, I would say that it smells like lemon scented Lestoil floor cleaner. Not exactly a yummy lemon flavor, but still somewhat an artificial lemon scent.

My pots of what are some of my most favorite bulbs. - Rhodohypoxis baurii are beginning to bloom again in the sand beds inside the greenhouse.

I am growing many hard-to-find annuals this year. Flowers that one can rarely find anywhere (mostly for my book, but many for clients who might be interested in trying some). This Malope (in the hibiscus or mallow family) should be lovely with bright pink, wide flowers all summer long on bushy plants.

A bit of rarity and joy. Agepetes blooms on some very long and vine-like branches. I've been waiting 2 years for this to bloom.

We acquired some very rare Primroses from Japan. Primula sieboldii is hard enough to find, but these are very special and while I can't say too much about them as the grower made us promise not to sell or share them (they are very precious in Japan), I felt that I could show some here. This double is called 'Elegant'.

This P .sieboldii double is a cultivar named 'Oni. Gokko'

This double with an odd flower is named 'Maimomiji'. I think we have about 60 but they are small, and I am waiting for the others to bloom.

There are so many nice begonias available now. I zipped down to Logee's last Friday to stock up for myself and clients for summer containers, summer porch displays and,well, OK, yes, for myself too.

Lily bulbs are beginning to be shipped in spring as well by some lily nurseries. I had been looking for the large, orange and rust colored trumpet lily named 'African Queen' and found a (secret, sorry) source. I ordered 20 bulbs for one giant clump. OK, I got them from the Lily Nook, in Canada. They ship to the US, but typically in late autumn.

It's going to be a fragrant summer! Trumpet lilies can grow 6-7 feet tall with many blossoms. Planted in clumps of 10 or 20 (as they grow in the wilds of western China) is how they look best. Extravagant?Maybe, but they take up about the same space as a hydrangea does but who in your neighborhood does this? Imagine how it will look!

Create An Original Spring, Indoors and Out

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Wed, 27 Mar 2019 15:49:00 +0000

New spring. growth on pomegranate trees in the greenhouse emerges very early, even have a freeze. It's often our first sign on spring. Trees can be kept on a very cold porch or even in a garage bare all winter and rather dry if the temperatures don't drop below 20 degrees. Their new growth always looks fresh and like April (but in March).

While there are great things to say about the democratization of design, retail stores - the whole 'Target' thing, and how today even garden centers and plant producers are bringing us more and more choices with branded plants and amazing products in nicer sizes and early enough plant, that in many ways we are better off than our parents were. But then again, if you are like me, you go to the garden center and peruse the aisles at the big box store where there are only circus colored pansies or weird combinations of colors that I frankly wouldn't buy. When it comes to designing your own spring containers, sometimes a little creativity and forethought will go a long way. If you settle for convenience, you may just end up with containers that look lovely, but with ones that look just like everyone else on the street.

Lily of the Valley, forced is a perfectly original indoor statement, and something that few will have,

Our new plant window and library window is still under construction (I still need to decide what color to paint the woodwork) but I had to bring in pots from the greenhouse for some well-earned spring display. Lachenalia, Cape Primroses, rare ferns, camellias and that palm-looking plant which is a Dioon (cycad) in Guy Wolff pottery really helped me feel good about the delay with the window seat. I had it covered in green Brazillian slate so that heavy pots could be set on it.

The system is simply set up that way, with so many evaluators along the way that by the time a pansy or succulent shows up at your local nursery - the palette has been edited - often by criteria such as cost, your economic zone where you live or by someone who frankly (I'll say it) doesn't have a great aesthetic. It happens everywhere, but I think more so in the plant business. The person making the decision to buy 2000 flats of pansies may prefer double, brilliant yellow or bright purple over the newer introductions like bronze, brown or tiger striped. It's just a matter of taste, but as we all know, taste is a subjective thing.

Spring in the greenhouse means moss on the pots. Which many love visually (me too). Of course, it's not always a good thing as pots must be washed with a bleach solution each spring to sterilize them - but don't try telling that to interior designers who love the look. Must like moss in the garden, it just grows where it wants to grow and no one can force it to grow where it doesn't. I think I know a few people like that! But there are plenty who keep trying to promote moss as a design element even if it can't be forced to grow.

Indoors and outside spring is slowly coming on here in New England. This year it's been a nice, slow spring which is great for the plants, but not for impatient gardeners. Our snowdrops are just emergins as are the crocus and other early spring bulbs. There are those years where they all bloom in late February, but this year, it's more typical if not normal.

Snowdrops in this Maryland gardens that I saw last week were all in full bloom, but this is when they should be divided as it is easy to dig and separate clumps into smaller clumps to speed-up division. This grower started with just a few bulbs 30 years ago, and now her woodlands are full of flowering clumps. So lovely under the deciduous trees, which is what they really enjoy.

The lawns are Longwood (near Mr. DuPont's house) were planted with thousands of crocus and eranthis. The trick here, as we have a crocus lawn in the old golf putting green that my parents had installed in the 1940's is to use freshly dug bulbs if they are eranthis, which are difficult to find, and as for crocus, avoid the large hybrid Dutch varieties and opt for a species type or Crocus. tommasianus selections which is by far the finest species to use.

Crocus Lawns should be raked and thatched very early or you risk damaging the flowers.

Eranthis hymalis - the winter Aconite -will self seed and spread if fresh bulbs are planted in the fall. Find a friend who has some or dig and spread around your own if they are self seeding, but it may take time to get good stock that isnt dead when you order it.

Anemone's (the dutch sort like these) and commerically raised ranunculus are the darlings of the internet and local flower farm movementm, and whille you will see pots sold at garden centers, if you winters are cold and the ground freezes dont expect them to return. Treat them as annuals. While cold-tollerant, if you buy corms in the fall plant them in a hoop house or a cold greenhouse and you will be rewarded with early blooms in spring. Beyond that, enjoy the ones you buy for early spring containers and dont worry about it.

Indoors you all know that I am a big fan of Cape Hyacinths, or Lachenalia. The newer hyubrids like these African Beauty strain varieties are so easy to grow (if you can find the bulbs in the fall) that they should have replaced paperwhite narcissus in popularity, but sadly, few know about them. I like that they were far more popular in the mid 19th century than today.

The old fashioned winter or greenhouse primroses like these Primula obconica were once so popular (They still are in Tokyo) but here? Forget about it. Old catalogs from 1910 show pages and pages of them for early spring color in windows and containers, and their color palette of apricot, periwinkle and coral is so on point today, but few growers offer them. I know - Pacific Plug and Liner even offered the almost extinct Primula sinensis but buyers and agents are not familiar with it or they feel that consumers wont be familiar with it, so they rarely offer them to clients.

Another view of my new plant window. Later I will share more photos, and yes - more Primula obconica.

Another flower in spring that has completely falled out of favor is the Schizanthus. I have a 1920 catalog from Suttons in England that has 5 pages of seed varieties but who today has a greenhouse or staff to grow these for their conservatory? Then again, who has a conservatory? But wouldnt you love these "butterfly orchids" in your home or spring containers? Just try to find them though., I've only seen them grown well three times in 30 years. First at Butchart Gardens when I was kid in Vancouver while visiting, once at Kew in the year 1999 and then last week at Longwood. Yes - I grow them myself from seed and I have a few flats ready for special clients, but beyond that, good luck.

The color palette of Schizanthus varieties is varied and odd, and maybe not for everyone, but they sing for me. There are wild and a couple of species forms from seed available. which are better in the garden but they must be raised from seed at home. A few commercial strains exist, that a handful of capable growers to grow regionally, but these cool weather plants would surely be marketable if only people knew about them.

Check out this camellia I brought into the house last week. The anemone form is so rarely seen, but what a show it puts on.

FYI - My English Spencer sweet peas are growing fast. - especially those for friends and a handful of special clients. I am growing 62 named varieties this year. More than ever, but there are never enough, right? Iam gorwing pots of dwarf sweetpeas this year. - all white vintage varieties and some pink. Just a trial, but they look great so far. Most of the truly dwarf varieties from 1900 are lost so tracking some down was a surprise.

Also in our new plant window is this pretty pale yellow camellia. So floriferous, but it only comes in while in bloom then whisked back out to the cool and buoyant greenhouse. Got a heated porch or a bright garage window? A mudroom that is cool? Then this one may be good for you.

The Joy (and Pain) of Growing Citrus Indoors

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Wed, 20 Feb 2019 20:08:00 +0000

It's citrus season here in New England! At least, in my greenhouse where at least 10 varieties of citrus can be picked on any day in February. While easy to grow in a cool greenhouse, indoors, citrus need a little extra special care - here are my tips.

I'm often asked about how to grow citrus indoors or how to grow citrus in containers - and while I am hardly an expert on raising citrus fruit, I have been growing many citruses in pots since, well, when I was a kid. Really. Here's a secret - my very first houseplant grew from a sunflower seed one of my mom's flower pots, but my second was a grapefruit tree that I germinated and kept growing into a thorny beast which my parents gave away (or threw into the compost pile) when I left for college.

If there is a single reason for growing any citrus indoors, it should be for the fragrance of the blossoms.

I think citrus are great plants for many to try indoors, but they aren't foolproof, nor even 'easy' as many will claim. Young plants are easy to obtain, even from seeds that you find in a grapefruit, which is a good project for children to learn. I myself remember how excited I was when I germinated my first grapefruit plant, but I later learned the realities of getting citrus to bloom and fruit indoors and how it requires a grafted plant of a named variety. No need to ruin the dream for the kids though, they already are having a blast with their science project and who knows - you may have a budding botanist in your future!

Meyer lemons thrive in cool greenhouses and cool rooms indoors, ideally, they should bloom in June and the fruit will mature in winter - just when you would want them!

Australian finger limes are very fruitful, but also very thorny so be prepared, especially if you have kids!

A few facts up-front though, especially if you want to have fruiting citrus indoors. We should work through all of the facts and misinformation out there about citrus indoors before you undertake your own dreams of winter lemons and oranges. First, sure you can plant seeds of most any citrus (I just said that I did, right? I encourage it - but know that this is just a fun science project and that your hard work and years of dedication will most likely result in a thorny shrubby plant that won't bloom for a decade or more, and when it does, the fruit will most likely be inedible.

Some citrus I picked this past weekend in our Massachusetts greenhouse. )Left to right) Ponderosa lemon, a Mandarin orange, 'Improved Meyer Lemon', 'Pink Variegated Lemon', a Limequat, a 'Fukushu'. kumquat, a Sweet Kumquat, or 'Meiwa' kumquat, a variegated Calamondin and last, the tiny Hong Kong Kumquat.

I think before starting a citrus farm indoors, you should decide what you want. Do you want flowers? Decorative fruit to remain on the tree all winter? Or do you want to actually pick fruit and use it? Sure, one might say that they want it all, and yes - you will get blossoms anyway, but not all citrus is the same. Let's go through the list of popular citrus that you can buy and see what is most growable in the home, or in a greenhouse.

'Mandarin Orange' which includes those sold under the name of 'Cuties', 'Clementines' or any of the classic varieties like Tangelo - these oranges are all related, have east-to-peel reticulated skin and are delicious, but they are more challenging for culture indoors. Forget about starting seeds from those clementines and getting oranges in the house on your windowsill. It's fake news.

A nice mandarin orange freshly picked from our tree last year.

There are named varieties of some Mandarin types, which you should seek out - Logee's Greenhouses in Connecticut carries some but between you and me, unless you have a cool room to grow them in, they are better for cold greenhouses. These varieties produce delicious fruit, but let's be realistic - the trees grow larger than most citrus, and are more difficult to grow well indoors, at least in the typical North American home. If you want to try, you must grow them in very bright light in the winter with the coolest temperatures and moist air. An unheated mudroom - one that stays above 35° F but below 55° F is ideal, or a garage, breezeway, glassed-in porch that does not freeze - anything with a slate or concrete floor - you get the picture. One could say this about all citrus, really. A house circa 1850 with radiators would be ideal. No wonder those Victorians had so much luck with camellias and lemons.

Social media just loves 'easy and fun' hacks and DIY projects that oversimplify and over-promise. While well-meaning, must of the advice found is unrealistic and can be disappointing. When it comes to growing citrus, never start one from seed if you want to be able to pick fruit. Start instead with a grafted citrus for many reasons, but mostly because of time and overall size. Citrus from seed may bloom, but it can take many years if not decades. Citrus from seed however is still a great children's project and there is little harm in letting them dream about picking oranges!

MYTHS ABOUT STARTING CITRUS FROM SEED

There is this image that's been going around on mommy blogs and even some DIY gardening blogs that shows a cluster of lemon seedlings growing in a teacup along with the headline' Grow your own room freshener!' I'm not usually a grumpy dude but that image drives me crazy because it is such bad advice. Can you germinate a handful of citrus in a teacup? Sure. But the only way that it's going to act as a room freshener is if you totally smash the leaves until they are crushed. Is it long-lived? Of course not because crushing the foliage will kill every seedling. Don't get me started. For some reason, no one seems to call out these fake bits of advice, but I thought that if you don't know already, that maybe you would like to know the truth.

Citrus seeds as a kids science project, however, a great thing. It's how I actually got the gardening bug - a grapefruit seed that was already sprouting in a grapefruit was planted in a larger pot of one of my mom's houseplants, and I was so excited when it germinated (I was in first grade) that I kept that plant growing until I left for college - when my parents threw the thorny beast into the compost pile. But just know that you'll want a good, grafted citrus (the rootstock is usually a Fortunella species, or something more hardy vigorous and allows a blooming branch - a clone, really - of a named variety that is proved to be delicious and fruitful, to bloom and set fruit as soon as the following year. Not to mention that the rootstock for potted citrus are specially selected to keep the grafted plant smaller, and room-sized.

I should mention that sometimes a grafted citrus will send out a sucker, or a branch from below the graft. Always keep a look out for these, they will be more thorny and usually more vigorous than growth on the top. Remove them as soon as you see them.

Calamondin oranges make a good option for indoor citrus. The variegated variety is very lovely both as a potted plant and as a decorative one that can be set outdoors for the summer where it will bloom and bear fruit the following winter.

Another good indoor citrus is the 'Calamondin Orange', popular with Philapino folk, it has been a popular houseplant since the house plant craze of the 1970's. Look for the variegated one as it is the prettiest. The small fruit is edible, and not a bad substitute for lemon when added to tea. Like any fresh citrus, the oils in the skin alone make for a tasteful experience.

I want to mention Kaffir lime leaf, which is a citrus as well - a very handy plant to keep in the house, and outside in the summer especially if you are an adventurous cook. One leaf added to cocoanut rice or Southeast Asian dishes and curries is transformative, and it makes the often unwieldy plant worth its real estate. Just allow it to grow large first before pulling leaves because if you are like me, all the leaves are used up before the end of summer! With one or two growth spurts a year, I really need a big tree of this one!

In our central Massachusetts home which (is just over 100 years old and poorly insulated), it kind-of friendly to citrus as long as they are kept in the cooler rooms. We even have this huge unheated room and with big windows, the ceiling is 16 feet tall and there is a concrete floor - exactly what so many potted citruses appreciate ( and camellias). Not everyone has that perfectly cold room, but some folks have a cellar with big windows or a glassed-in porch or a garage with big windows. Even an unheated bedroom will do.

Many hybrid kumquats are now available, a(this one is Fortunella obovata 'Fukushu', or the Changshou Kumquat. All kumquats make delicious and fruitful indoor citrus as long as you can provide the cool conditions they desire. In our cool greenhouse we have enough kumquats to eat fresh all winter long. This one is one of the best (it looks like an orange) but it's round fruit are sweet, and yes - you always eat the peel on kumquats!

Kumquats became our favorite though. Also maturing in the winter, the fruit is absolutely delicious when picked right off the tree and popped into your mouth. Nothing at all like store-bought kumquats - in fact, I would peel kumquats if I ever had to eat one, and I would never ever know what a treat they were until I ate one whole right off of the tree.

The citrus also never seem to get insect problems in the greenhouse. Scale, mealy bug and particularly spider mite problems seemed to plague us every winter no matter what we do. In the cold, damp and sunny greenhouse, the foliage remains dark green and healthy.

Citrons come in many shapes and sizes. More of a novelty than anything else, a football sized 'Etrog' can be an impressive show stopper. Beware though, these plants grow large (10 feet tall in a couple of years) and the thorns are deadly - I mean - poke your eye out deadly. I always have to set them in safe areas with no traffic from us or the dogs. Still, every year someone gets an arm scraped or a scalp scrath that requires stitches!

IS a greenhouse essential? Of course not, and I'm not trying to make you feel bad about not owning a greenhouse at all (believe me, you wont want to pay the heating bills!), but I wanted you to know what I have experienced when it comes to citrus culture, and it changed dramatically once I moved plants from the house into the greenhouse, and there are some learnings that came from that. Indoors, citrus certainly can be grown, but now I try to replicate what they experience in a northern winter greenhouse as best I can. I think I always felt that citrus were southern plants, trees that liked heat and summertime temperatures, but really, they like a cool, Mediterranean climate, wet in winter and cool, but hot and sunny in the summer. I mean - no wonder they love California!

Last weekends' pickings included 9 types of citrus from the greenhouse.

Today we grow about ten citrus varieties in the greenhouse at any one time, and while everything isn't perfect (I lost 2 kumquat varieties this year and one lemon tree due to the hose being too far away and the heater burning one to a crisp), but each reason was due to operator error. I also house a few citruses from friends over the winter - a sort-of boarding school for citrus, but I always have to be careful as more often than not, they come covered with spider mites and mealybugs. The cold temps in there keep those pests at bay but I have to isolate the plants and scrub the stems and foliage.

Would I grow citrus indoors again? Maybe, especially since the greenhouse is really getting too costly to heat (this may be the last winter I splurge on it), so plants could be relocated to a large unheated room that we have (the studio) where I think they would at least survive the winter just fine.

Fortunella hindsii, or the Hong Kong Kumquat has a near cult following by collectors, but not to eat, as the fruit contains just one seed or two, but is mostly skin and no larger than a large pea.

My favorite citrus happens to be any or all of the Kumquat varieties ('Fortunella species, and for named varieties, there are many), as well as the tiny, inedible Hong Kong Kumquat (Fortunella hindsii) which we grow purely for novelty sake. Who could ever resist its 1/4 inch 'dollhouse oranges' but be careful of its thorns - this wild species is thornier than a crown of thorns! A large topiary of this plant sits on a high bench in the greenhouse and I have to warn visitors to duck, or their head can become scratched. If it's hard to find, try asking for it at a bonsai nursery but then pot the rooted cutting up as a tree in a large pot and don't tell them! It's a popular bonsai specimen.

Some of the most aggressive growers I've had include the pink variegated lemon (not very edible but the foliage is pretty) and the Australian Finger Lime, which quickly grew in the greenhouse into a large and thorny shrub, eventually having to be tossed as no one wanted to move it anymore. I did buy a rather expensive Mandarin orange that grows very edible and large mandarins, now trained as a sort of standard in a large tub, it's one of those citruses where I hate picking any fruit just because it looks so nice on the plant, but I've learned that picking fruit on all citrus is important especial;y if you want them to bloom again and on time.

POTTING-UP A CITRUS
Many sites also advise one not to overpot citrus, and that they enjoy being potbound. I will say that we pot-up citrus the first few years into larger pots, especially if they are Logee's plants which often come in 2 to 4-inch pots. They are still young grafted plants and rather fierce growers but are watered every day or even twice a day at the nursery because they are pot bound. While citrus will always fill a pot with roots, most of these roots are at the surface, much like a camellia in a pot. Once settled into a 14-24 inch pot a grafted citrus will remain in that pot for much of its lifetime, but any citrus you buy in a 2- 4-inch pot will need an upgrade to a larger pot almost immediately. I would move small citrus into an 8 or 10-inch pot as soon as I get home from the nursery, and then once that pot is pot bound, move it to the14 or 24-inch pot where it will stay for at least 5-10 years, with biannual refreshing the outer soil.

Citrus has surface roots which will eventually take over the top of the pot, making a pot look like it's pot bound when it actually is not. I topdress most citrus once a year with a bit of new soil (always using Promix BX or PRomix HP (High Porosity) which I think these acid-loving plants appreciate. The plants are fertilized only in the summer with a balanced chemical feed (RapidGro) as they like high nitrogen during foliar growth, and then hit once or twice with a commercial citrus feed. Every year we get yellow leaves because of Iron deficiency or boron deficiency, which is when we repot a plant usually into the same pot, but with fresh soil.

FEEDING, SOIL AND FERTILITY
Fertility with citrus is tricky, especially with container grown plants as most citrus fertilizer is sold for use outdoors, on trees planted directly into the soil. I prefer a water-soluble or time release feed (or both) on potted citrus, but soil chemistry factors are as well. All peat or coir based potting mixes will change physically over time as they decay, affecting pH and soil structure so they often need refreshing. Many recommend a low analysis like 5-2-6 which is similar to the Espoma citrus food but be careful if using this in a pot as it can burn roots near the surface. If using, sprinkle the granules on in the summer on top of fresh soil that you've added to the pot. Miracle-Gro for acid-loving plants works well too but look for high nitrogen and high potassium.

CONTROLLING INSECTS
As for troubles with insects, unfortunately, scale and spider mites are difficult to control without insecticide, so if you plan to eat your fruit of have issues with using a systemic insecticide, the only option is to toss your plant and get a new one. Mealybug, which difficult to treat without chemicals can be scrubbed off carefully, and then the soil replaced as best you can and hope for the best. I have never, ever had any luck with any organic insecticides with these pests on citrus, but as I shared with you earlier, our plants in the cold greenhouse never seem to get any pests which tells me that they are healthier if grown in damp air at low temperatures.

HOW I GROW MY CITRUS IN A GREENHOUSE
A note about the cold greenhouse here - I keep our greenhouse set to 38 - 40 degrees F in the winter, which is how cold it gets on the coldest nights - even if it is -10° F outside. Sure, it may get colder near the floor but on a sunny day even in January, the air temperature can reach 65 or 70° F. Most of the mature citrus are in large 24-inch pots which are set high in the greenhouse where it is a bit warmer (this bench is above my head). This provides a bit more warmth and even bright sunlight as the fruit can ripen near the glass.

I still lose a citrus plant or two each year in the greenhouse but not because they are difficult to maintain, it's due to my neglecting them. It's easy to forget to water a lemon that sits on the opposite side of a walk or move a plant to the wrong place. Even though we've experienced a couple of freezes (when we've run out of fuel) this has done little harm to the trees. One night last January the furnace ran out of fuel and the air temperature dropped down to 20° F for a few hours, but there was no visible damage to the plants. Any lower and the roots might have been killed, but what did a few plants in was that once the furnace came on, hot, dry air blowing from it killed two large Kumquat plants because I had temporarily moved them to a new part of the greenhouse so that they would be further away from the wall - but they then sat right in the path of the furnace fan.

Winter Gardening Ramps Up - Book Reviews Pour In

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Sun, 27 Jan 2019 21:29:00 +0000

There are still endless lists of garden chores for those who garden where winter is mild - California, the Pacific coast, the British Isles, or the US south, but here in New England - winter gardening can often be defined by most people as dreaming and planning. Ordering seeds, starting seeds, making lists with nursery catalogs and websites, and of course, by reading gardening books and magazines. But don't be fooled in thinking that the Northeast gardener is lazy - for more serious gardener often have a long list of projects which go far beyond seed ordering (and beyond. cleaning tools - as who really does that!).

Of course those who are fortunate to have season-extenders, be it a cold frame, a hoop house, a protected porch, a heated greenhouse or inside gardening lights - the summer season is just ramping up in one way or another. I seem to fail in delivering on all the projects I seem to plan on doing. Things like propagating perennials from root cuttings taken in the fall (oriental poppies), or sowing alpine seeds for the rock garden (I'm always too late to send in my order to the North American Rock Garden Society. the Scottish Rock Garden Club or to the Alpine Garden Society in the UK due to my own Holiday drama), but there is probably time to still submit my order for the second round of seed.

It's worth mentioning here that these three societies offer many of the hardest-to-find seeds for home gardeners who are about to move beyond marigolds and who are looking for that 'something different'. Many of these seeds just which may seem intimidating to germinate or grow, just need to be sown in a loose, gravelly or sandy soil mix, covered in chicken grit and set in trays outdoors for the balance of the winter. By spring, they will naturally germinate.

THE VALUE OF BOOK REVIEWS ON AMAZON -

If you have a moment - could you please write a quick book review on my book or simply click how many stars you think it should have?

Silly, I know, but apparently - it's as important as those Yelp reviews for small restaurants. I 'get it' now. Believe me - I've been just as out-of-touch about these things as anyone, until now. Reviews place a book higher in ranks, higher on lists, which means more sales, and while not really any money for me - as no one really makes money on a plant book - but it will lead to other books, better books and more books in the future.

As for marketing my Vegetable gardening book - don't fret - it's not in my nature to over-promote here. This may be it for a few months - it's really not my thing.

A tiny note about your thoughts on this book will be much appreciated. My goal in writing this first book was first and foremost -- to write an honest book with advice that would be useful to either advanced or beginner gardener.

My premise?

No hype, no trends, no fads, no 'hacks', no lasagna, no hay bales, no eggshells, no peeing on tomatoes, no molasses (homemade fertilizer), no manure teas, and as for organic vs inorganic fertilizer? I provide want the plant really needs to grow perfectly, and you - the end-user can decide what you are comfortable with. We are all adults here.

Briefly stated, this is the sort of book I would want to read. I hope you might find it useful in that way, too.

TO MAKE IT EASY, YOU CAN RATE WITH STARS OR LEAVE A BRIEF REVIEW OF MY BOOK HERE on Amazon. Even if you didn't buy one there.

I promise that I will never ask again.

Hardy herbs like this rosemary globe that I've been training, are doing well in the greenhouse. As well as the tiny Haemanthus spp. (yet unnamed but with hirsute or hairy leaf margins).

ALSO, BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR ME SPEAKING THIS SPRING

I will be starting my speaking tour in February and my book tour so many some of you will see me as I travel to some botanic gardens and plant societies with book signings and talks. If you don't have my book and are interested in it, I will be giving away a few copies here in February in a blog giveaway, and of course, it is available at most on-line bookstores globally, and on Amazon. Just google and find it.

LAST SUMMER, A PAIR OF CARDINALS WHO ALWAYS RETURN TO MAKE A NEST IN OUR BAY LAUREL STANDARDS WHICH ARE USUALLY SET OUTSIDE THE DOORS IN MARCH WERE ANGRY WITH US FOR BEING LATE - SO THE FLEW IN THE OPEN VENTS AND RAISED A FAMILY IN A FLOWERING JASMINE. WHO COULD BLAME THEM?

ONWARD, IN THE GREENHOUSE

Thank God for our mild winter so far. As January is the time of year when our home greenhouse is threatened by heating problems (blizzards, nor-easters and deep freezes). This all happened last year if you remember when early January brought us record-breaking cold and snow. Today, the greenhouse reached 70 degrees and I took the opportunity to begin cleaning and organizing it for spring seed starting. I was surprised at what was already in bloom - many camellias, some tender shrubs, and South African bulbs, but I also bought some Primula obconica and carnations to brighten dark corners, and to use as 'color-fillers' through these dark months. No harm in that. I just repot them into larger clay pots and keep them cool and bright, swapping them out of the plant windows every week or so - which sounds snooty I know - but why not? Less than a grocery bill for a weeknight meal, and it brightens our hearts. I will add that the cool greenhouse extends the life of many potted florist plants, so they'll 'keep on tickin' until their batteries run out around late April.

Single and semi-double camellia's like this pink, variegated one 'Happy Harlequin' are slow growers, but set outside all summer (when buds form) they come into bloom quickly just as the sun begins to brighten in late January. Even light freezes don't bother them. I love camellias so much, that I wish that I lived in a slightly more mild climate (like North Carolina) where they can be grown outdoors year round. You folks are lucky!

I am noticing that while many plants are blooming, some are ahead of schedule which always surprises me. Camellias are well on the way with at least a half dozen varieties in full bloom. Here in Massachusetts camellias cannot live outdoors so ours are potted and kept under cold glass where they provide us with endless blooms from December until March, with the peak season usually being February just around Valentines Day. Appropriate as most camellias either pink, red or white.

Camellia's lead the show in the greenhouse for much of the winter.

I really can't have enough potted camellias in the winter. Sadly they sulk when grown in modern homes, but there was a time when most every Victorian home in New England kept camellias as the rooms were heated by coal or wood, and temperatures would drop to either just above freezing or remain around 40 if the fires were allowed to run out. If you have a cool or unheated room (we have a large great room which we keep unheated most of the winter and camellias would thrive in there) or a garage, even a glassed-in porch, many camellias might do well for you.

I fertilized my camellia pots (first with high nitrogen then a balanced feed bi-weekly) much of last spring and early summer, and it seems to have paid off with a high bud count. Cottonseed meal was also added to the soil surface just after blooming last winter.

I have friends who keep camellias in the glassed-in-porch of their farmhouse in Carlisle MA, and they never heat the porch - just opening the door to the inner house on the coldest night to allow just enough heat in. Many of these woody Asian natives can handle air temperatures that drop to near 20 for brief periods, as long as their roots don't freeze. There are estate greenhouses outside of Boston that have some camellias more than 150 years old.

An Agepetes serpens (from the Rhododendron Species Botanical Garden catalog) shows off it's long branches and hanging stems. I'm still waiting for the pendulous red, waxy flowers to appear one of these years, but I'm not that disappointed as the foliage alone is nice. It goes out in the summer, as it is semi-epiphytic (lives on mossy tree branches) and it dislikes high heat that our summers bring.

'San Dimas' is a well known red Higo camellia that always gives us a good show even when grown in a large tub.

Lily of the Valley 'pips' or dormant buds with roots are being potted-up for indoor bloom and fragrance. I look forward to these blooms every year, but this year I splurged on some nursery-grown stock.

It's bulb forcing time, but as I didn't get a chance this year due to the book to get plenty of bulbs potted up in the autumn, I decided that I just couldn't live without Lily of the Valley forced (some hints here about my next book!). I usually dig some pip's from the garden in November which works perfectly well, but I thought I might splurge and order some fancy ones from White Flower Farm. These are much larger pips and have been grown specifically to be forced by flower farms and home growers. There was a time when forcing Lily of the Valley was a popular winter activity for any plants person, but those days have passed along with other Victorian charms, but January is THE time to bring pips into the warmth, and warmth is what they need if you want to experience blooms in winter.

A pot of planted-up Convallaria majus pips (Lily of the Valley) is an old-fashioned thing to be treasured. Talk about experiential - Many drawing in old Victorian gardening books show these being grown - forced on winter windowsills, but the real trick is to keep them and their pots, warm. The greenhouse here is too chilly and they will remain slow growing until I bring the pots into 70 F. degree sunlight (or under lights).

I pot my pips (which have long roots) in deep, clay pots - only because I like how they look that way. You can trim the long roots down a bit with scissors if your pots are smaller or shallow, it doesn't make a big difference but it may delay flowering by a few weeks as new roots don't begin to emerge until after they bloom so don't be too aggressive with your manscaping.

The pips are potted up in a clean, fresh potting mix - No wait. Be honest Matt. really not that clean - I should admit that I used a recycled potting mix from the bottom half of a hot pepper that died. It doesn't matter as I'll be tossing these once they have bloomed - potted in dirty, recycled crappy, used potting mix left over on the bench from some pots used in the garden last summer. That's more like it. I'm not that worried here about virus' or disease. Pots are kept in the cool greenhouse for a week or so and watered well which I think helps them get acclimated. They've already been vernalized (chilled for a period). All that needs to be done now is to bring the pots into the warmth - and bright light (artificial is best) and in four to five weeks the house will smell like May.

Imported Amaryllis are set out to be potted-up into fresh soilless mix. These large bulbs are of newer varieties and were not grown for Holiday bloom. As such, more buds per bulb (up to 3 stems) and they will bloom until March or April.

On this cold yet sunny day, it's warm in the greenhouse so I took advantage of the sunshine and potted up the rest of my amaryllis bulbs. Another dozen of fancier varieties not commonly found at retail or garden centers (spidery ones, new introductions) most of which are late bloomers - I know this as those specially treated to bloom for Christmas are all done with their show, while the larger bulbs like these are just starting to show bud tips. These too appreciate indoor warmth, so they'll be taking up a toasty spot in on our new slate window seat once the carpenter completes that job - hopefully this weekend. Hopefully.

It's been a few years since I've indulged myself with plenty of late winter blooming amaryllis so I am excited to see a spectacular show. All of these bulbs will go into deep and heavy clay pots as this helps keep the tall stems from tipping over. These too I bought at White Flower Farm ( I know, you are going to say that they are expensive) but I promise you - if there is anything worth buying from WFF it's amaryllis. Believe me - I've bought them from most every nursery and these will all have 2 or 3 buds, not to mention the varieties are exceptional. Go ahead - do your homework and you'll see that the price is worth it, at least for amaryllis.

Haemanthus albiflos is a South African geophyte (bulb-like) plant that clearly has a semi-dormant period in high summer when it sulks and prefers to remain bone-dry, but the roots are always active - looking for trace bits of water, as many South African bulbs do (including Amaryllis and Nerine - which is why getting the bulbs to re-bloom the following year is tough - as the roots had been removed the previous year). Haemanthus though is a genus worth growing - even on a sunny windowsill, where they shaving-brush-like flowers emerge in early winter around Christmas. Left potbound though, they will eventually break out of their bindings - like Clivia so choose a sturdy one!

Other southern hemisphere bulbs and geophytes are blooming too, such as this Haemanthus albiflos which very characteristically has broken a heavy, clay pot. Yes, an expensive clay pot that was handmade, naturally. So easy to grow, I love their shaving brush blooms every December, not to mention their vigor (I mean - this one wasn't watered since October, forgotten behind another larger plant and it's still alive. Talk about abuse. I should have known better to use a good pot, or I should have known better and just repotted it earlier.

More small Narcissus cantabricus are blooming like these which self seeded into another pot. So fragrant (like vanilla, not pissy like other winter narissius). The smaller hoop species are all so desirable and easy under glass.

Sometimes I feel like I am boring all of you with repetitive posts. Every January there is a post like this. The same plants in bloom, but usually in a different week. Truth is there is little more to write about here right now, and I think some of you might appreciate an old-school Matt post that is a diary in style, like this.

Japanese primroses - like these Primula sieboldii cultivars from a collector in Japan that we acquired - would do just fine outdoors in our Zone 5 garden, (and many do live here) but these are a bit more precious - new introductions and selections not in the trade (and we are forbidden or asked - not to share with nurseries) as they are gifted. We treasure all of these - some doubles, nodding flowers, and a lovely palette of pink, lavender, and white. Eventually, we will set these out in the garden, but we are allowing them to bulk up a bit in these pots for two years. Kept in the cold greenhouse, they emerge earlier than they would outdoors, where their normal blooming time here would be mid to late May.

Many of my tuberous 'nasturtium' (Tropaeolum species) from Chile and Argentina have emerged with vigor, and are just getting buds on their stems. I still want to try planting a few of these valuable tubers into the ground of the greenhouse as I've been told that when grown that way, they can really show off, but for now, they remain in large, clay pots.

Not all of these Tropaeolum are winter flowering. This T. ciliatum is late spring and summer flowering, and it really never went dormant for me. This is the first year that I am growing it (or second year?) so I am curious to see how it fares.

Winter greenhouse primroses include some store-bought ones as well. I don't bother with those tiny pots of purple, yellow and white primroses sold in 4 inch pots -that appear in supermarkets in January, as they will just die - indoors from the dry heat, or in the cool greenhouse because it is too wet - but the species popular in the late 19th century and early 20th century are very desirable. I still wish that I could get my hands on the most desirable - P. sinensis (to be correct, it's now considered to be P. praenitens)- Cultivaris introduced named varieties in 2016 but just try and find them anywhere. I keep looking, but only a few west-coast growers have trialed them. Surely - buyers will resist until it becomes more common. P. sinensis was once a very popular potted plant and a winter standard in greenhouses until 1920 or so. Old seed catalog often featured 6-8 pages of varieties. Now, it's lost and no one has it.

A good standby is this - P. malacoides - the Fairy PRimrose, which would do nicely on a cool and sunny windowsill for much of the winter as long as you repot it and never allow it to go completely dry so that it wilts (not an easy task). In the cool greenhouse these thrive, and are even slightly fragrant when the sun warms them up.

Primula obconica may slowly be making a comeback, or at least, you may be able to find some pots of this wonderful winter-blooming perimrose that will outside any hardy one for your winter window, or outside if you live in the South.

Primula obconica has always kept its popularity in Asia, but here in North America, one needs to look for it. Once I found a few pots at a Trader Joes in January, another time, at a large nursery - the sort that carries ALL of the Holiday plants at Christmas is a good sign that their buyers might snatch-up something more unusual for mid-winter sales. Here in the Boston area I once found them at Brigg's Nursery in Attleborough, and these I found at Mahoney's Rocky Ledge in Wilmington - but don't try finding them there - I bought them all! All 8 of them.

Even a common geraniaum (Pelargonium) such as this gold-leaved variety named 'Janie' can add bright color to a winter window. I happen to love the scent of the leaves (nostalgic, I guess) but who could resist this lime and bronze color? In many ways - who needs flowers?

Sneak Peek - My first gardening book is published - Pre-orders are welcome!

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Tue, 11 Dec 2018 21:15:00 +0000

My first book - Mastering the Art of Vegetable Gardening launches on Jan. 1 with pre-orders started already on Amazon looking good. Thanks to all of you who placed orders early. I know the delivery date was originally Dec. 18 but Amazon tells us that it is now the first week of January. Hey, maybe that's a good sign?

You know, for someone who may seem as perpetually busy as a woodchuck I am known to be as lazy as one too. Here it is - three weeks before my book Mastering The Art of Vegetable Gardening ships from Amazon, and I get a call from my publisher (who is thrilled with the presales already - thank God), but who reminded me that I haven't posted any social media about ordering my book on this blog. You can preorder it here: Mastering the Art of Vegetable Gardening. Thanks, bunches in advance!

You all deserve a sneak peek of this impressive, hardcover book. Im pretty proud of it (I mean - you never really know how a book is going to end up looking, right?). I wanted a mix of a cookbook that was written by a top chef - that style visually and a nice layout. No, before you ask there are no recipes in this book. I've been surprised with how many people have been asking for that. The cookbook version will need to wait. I wanted this book to be pulled out to read on a winters evening while planing as a garden or referred to throughout the gardening season as needed. It had to be useful and with correct information. Of course, not everyone will agree with everything in it, but there was a need for a useful book as most, in my opinion, were lacking information that I needed. I hope that you feel that I achieved that.

I share some family photos of the garden, home and lifestyle in the introduction section. I think this part is important to set a tone and to show what goes on around the garden behind the scenes. Besides, people like these sort of behind the curtain looks.

The book is still packed with step-by-step photos though. I've been growing mesclun since the late 1970's when my parents would buy something called 'Saladisi' - a micro green mix from Europe. I never knew that Mesclun itself is a rather new thing, even though it was common for Italians in the south of Italy to forage for herbs and bitter greens to create a mixed salad with a similar name. Today's commercial version in a poly bag doesn't even come close, but you can mix your own seed - find out how in the book!

You expected lots of varieties and lots of photos, right? I hope that I delivered to your expectations. I mean - how many okra varieties grown in containers is enough for one family? I found out over the past 2 years. So beautiful though, right?

Joe hates eggplant (which is crazy because he is Armenian) but I had to grow as many as I could, and honestly - that was alot. The plants consumed my container gravel garden, the deck and 4 rows in our back 40. No regerts, as the tattoo's say.

Apparently, pre-sale numbers are important in the publishing world - and hey, I 'get it'. But the last type of blogger I want to be is one of those who endlessly push their book on readers telling them how "awesome" it is, followed up by line after line of exclamation marks!!!! PRe-order, or buy after it goes on-sale after Jan. 1, I will appreciate it either way.

My friend (and barber) Juistin Pitts posed as an onion model for me. His tat's are better than mine as he has two sleeves.

Instead, I will do this, as you deserve at the very least to know the facts, and what this book is, and isn't. First of all, if you haven't noticed already, I'm rather fussy about aesthetics, so I tried every trick in the book to get my grimy fingers around the visual design of this book. Surprisingly, my publisher Cool Springs Press was completely open to collaborating (something I have heard horror stories about with some other publishers - though as a past creative director, I understand, as the last thing I would have wanted was some shmuck demanding that I use a certain photo, color or typeface which I didn't like.

I wish my step-by-step photos for how to grow Belgian endive and how to force it made it into the book but at least this one did - a new red variety from Italy. In my talks during my book tour, I will show everything though, as well as on a website.

I first assumed that any publisher would be resistant to working with me as I come with 29 years of graphic design and layout experience - that could drove anyone crazy. But then I felt that I also bring some good skills to, great photos that were all my own, and a good design sense. I sent a pdf of about ten pages that I designed to my publisher, and they ran with it. Sure, there are some things I might have changed, but mostly it's all me, 99.9 perfect.

Some of the step-by-step photos that did make it into the book show you how to grow parsnips, as there are at least four ways to grow them. I practiced even the British method of drilling holes and starting seedlings in root trainers.

Of course, about a third of the 1000 photos I sent in with the manuscript was never used, but the page count was pre-set early on, and while there are less step-by-step photo breakouts than I had hoped for, at least some still made it in. Don't get me wrong, I am thrilled with what the book designers were able to keep in the book, and while I wanted and was willing to have some copy cut, my editor said that it was too good to cut (maybe he was flattering me, but hey - maybe not?). We did end up cutting a few chapters instead, so no chapter on corn and a few other veggies. Maybe in a second edition?

Celtuce is somewhat new, or at least it is experiencing a re-discovery. I really wanted to show how to grow it by showing step-by-step pictures of my crops as this is the best way to learn the many things that could go wrong. The last thing I wanted to do was to buy some at a store, or show some grown poorly. This principle applies to everything in this book. If I never grew the vegetables before, I would not show it or talk about it. I was fortunate to have access to farmland and materials from a farm in central Mass for artichokes and other crops where I visited most every week, for things that I didn't have room to set out here in properly long rows. This celtuce was grown in the garden next to my greenhouse.

OK, I am rambling here more than Mrs. Maisel, so here is what you will find different about my book.

As I reread the manuscript I can see why they left so much of the copy in the book. Every sentence seems to have some sort-of nugget of information.

Asian melons an gourds are the next hot thing. You heard it here first. My friend Chou's parents who are from Viet Nam live near me and after a delicious meal of shrimp and noodles waiting for the sun to dip behind Worcester Airport I was able to get the perfect fuzzy sillouette on the fuzzy gourd. Our kitchen was full for weeks with bitter melon even this year when we built out own gourd tunnel. Luffa is so delicious when immature, I have no idea why we all are not growing it.

My goal with this book was to actually write a book that would be useful, over and over again. Need to know the best germination temperature for eggplant or lettuce? It's here. Ever wonder what the exact fertility ratio is proper for giant onions? It's here, even if you dare never use 30% urea, it's still helpful to know what an onion wants if you are looking for an organic alternative.

I didn't have enough room to grow all of the squashes I wanted, so I begged friends to loan me their gardens or farms where I could plant seedlings, or could camp out for the perfect shot when the sun was setting. Thanks, Mike, Darrell, Chou, and Steve for dealing with runaway vines, muddy photoshoots or me leaving random squashes on your front steps, or letting me raid your parents bitter melon extravaganza with photo equipment. The last thing I wanted to do was to just go buy photo props at a farm stand in the fall.

What isn't in this book are novelty growing methods. Nothing against lasagna gardenings, hay bale methods, compost tea recipes or folk remedies, myths or even upside down tomato plants. You would have a problem trying to find posts or books about those. What you will find in here is why that flat of Brussel's sprouts that you bought at the garden center never seemed to head-up, or why your radishes have tiny wormholes in them, and what you can do organically about eliminating them.

I outline the many benefits of proper fertility, not shying away from chemical fertilizer (the blue kind) for some crops as the truth is, some fast-growing crops require quick access to nutrients. For all, however, I offer both organic and inorganic solutions. Gardening is a science, remember. I leave it to you to decide what you are comfortable using. I promote no use of insecticides, however. Those nasty bugs need to be outsmarted, so there are ways to do that.

You will also learn about some newer veggies perhaps. I grew 36 varieties of eggplant and 14 varieties of Okra for this book. I forced endives, grew exhibition sized parsnips three ways and far more fava beans than any human would ever need, not to mention row after row of various peas, beans and limas. Of course, not everything is in here, but it does share the newest research, and I did the hard work of proof-checking through loads of misinformation out on the internet. Talk about fake news! Naturally, there is more than one way to do anything, as it is with cooking, but as with baking, there is usually the best way, and then one customizes down from that. Celery, for example, is extremely difficult to grow for many people, but with a few tweaks, one can do it.

Interested in growing French melons or watermelons? You can, because I did. Sure, they have exact requirements and not everyone can have success, but it will be helpful to know what they require.

I also shared vegetables that I think you really should try growing, especially as an autumn crop such as these Tokyo Cross white turnips.

All sorts of bits of information are in my book, along with fun stories, fascinating historical perspective for each veg featured and guidelines for how to start from seed, when to sow for each season and even what varieties are better in the kitchen for flavor or yields.

Once again, here is the link to my Amazon page where you can order the book now for less than $19.99 before it ships in early January. I thank you all in advance for staying with me on this blog journey since 2006, and for supporting my passion. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah and Happy Holidays. If you do order the book and love (or even hate it)

Lastly, I was so honored to have Roger Swain from PBS's The Victory Garden tell me that he was a huge blog follower and that he was very supportive of my work. My hero, as I grew up watchin him every Saturday.

Forcing Winter Vegetables

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Tue, 11 Dec 2018 03:05:00 +0000

Forced winter vegetables like this Belgian Endive in my garden may be the next hot food trend home gardeners and chefs haven't rediscovered yet.

Think about it - there was a time, and really not that very long ago - like a hundred and fifty years or so ago, when there weren't any supermarkets. There was no refrigeration aside from ice and no air travel so summer vegetables were just that - summer vegetables. Everything else was preserved, pickled, fermented or was considered storage vegetables, kept in a cold frost-free root cellar.

OK. We know that, right? But it's not the truth.

Instagram is a good place to see where trends might be taking off. This Sea Kale (Crambe maritima) long valued by foodies in the UK seems to be becoming more popular, at least with chefs. Anyone looking for a luxury crop to try in North America still has plenty of opportunities to specialize if only they look to the past.

The fact is there were plenty of fresh veggies grown in the winter, especially if one lived near a large city like London or Paris in Europe, or in the Northeast in the US, for Boston was a leader in forced vegetables. Vegetables that were either sown in fall and raised under glass that was heated once the fuel furnace came onto the scene, or even more common, forced in hotbeds - cold frames specially designed to hold fresh, hot stable manure in a layer, and then covered over on cold nights with straw-filled quilts to hold the heat in.

My own roots of Belgian endive which are potted up in October and sprout in winter once brought into a warm, dark closet bring us the highest quality endives at the lowest cost.

Some crops like forced rhubarb were dug in the autumn and forced into growth in complete darkness in caves or root cellars producing a very tender and pale pink product which is still valued today in the UK for its quality which is said to be far better than that of conventional rhubarb.

Homegrown Belgian endive like these from 2 years ago are very easy. I dare say that it is the easiest vegetable to grow given the fact that it demands poor soil and drought in summer and little more than moisture and darkness in winter.

As we enter the Holiday season, I often think of forced winter vegetables because they still feel special in a world where most everything travels by air over great distances to get to our markets. We live in a time where we have the great luxury (albeit at a great environmental cost( of having fresh strawberries every day of the year. Few younger people even think about this, but fresh produce year round is a relatively new idea.

Or is it?

In 1900 many old books and magazines show rhubarb being forced in North America in cold frames and hotbeds as early as January. Remember, there was little fresh produce or fruit then aside from canned or home preserves. A Holiday meal with fresh forced rhubarb was a luxury item.

My mind was blown recently when I discovered that the asparagus I just saw at our local Wegmans for Thanksgiving (what? Asparagus at Thanksgiving?) was actually not an unusual thing in 1880. Really. Especially in the Boston area, where I live. Suburban Boston towns like Belmont grew what is known as 'forced asparagus' in hotbed and greenhouse throughout much of the 19th century along with tomatoes, cucumbers, and melons which were made available to posh Boston and New York markets via train. Delivery beyond 200 miles in the cold winter wasn't practical, and this all ended by the end of the 19th century when transcontinental trains brought produce from the Westcoast, and when refrigeration by ice became more sophisticated.

A quicl search on Instagram shows that some UK farmers are revisiting the almost lost art of forcing rhubarb, which has a long tradition in Yorkshire where fresh winter forced rhubarb is preferred by chefs over sumer rhubarb.

But even after 1888 when fuel-fired furnaces brought more practical heat to greenhouses and ranges could be built with steel and glass, the idea of forcing winter veggies continued to grow in the Boston area. Fuel meant that furnaces could create steam, and steam pipes could be set into pits, tunnels and in rows directly in the fields where asparagus was growing, to force it even earlier - often for Thanksgiving.

In the very early 20th century lettuce like any of the Great Lakes varieties were bred for growing in pots and sold in markets this way, before refrigeration - not unlike hydroponic lettuce sold today.

A book from 1917 by Ralph L Watts called 'Vegetable Forcing' presents all sorts of cropping methods, both old using stable manure to heat cold frames and hotbeds in which one can grow lettuce (Boston Lettuce actually came from Boston, and was an early forcing lettuce). I found it interesting that all early lettuce sent to market was grown in small pots, the root balls wrapped in waxed paper with a ribbon. Not unlike fancy hydroponic lettuce sold in markets today. Of course, before refrigeration - (and a time when those automatic misting devices at the market came along - with recorded thunder and tree frogs chirping!).

Lily of the Valley pips in this storage house is kept dark, then gradually grow quicker as warm temperatures are introduced. I predict that the four-season market for Convallaria may experience a come back at least for flower farmers looking to extend their crops into the dark months.

The idea of forced winter veggies may be the next trend, after foodies have revisited Kombucha, heirloom tomatoes, the magic of fermentation, bread making, SCOBY, Kimchi and I guess - artisanal everything for that matter. The great local food movement is helping us understand and appreciate exactly where our food comes from and why 'seasonal' is generally considered better. Forced winter veggies fit right in. Who's going to jump on this next? Surely there is a market for locally forced endive and winter, white Asparagus or pale pink rhubarb, sweet Sea Kale or forced celery.

In 1900, cucumbers and tomatoes were grown in winter greenhouses once steam furnaces became more practical, but before trains could bring produce from the south or west coast.

Even flowers can be forced, and I don't mean branches. Lily of the Valley and French or Parma violets were once the most common Holiday flowers as along the Hudson River in New York farms with ranges of cold frames grew thousands of plants for the nearby cities. Maybe there are other crops too which have interesting stories. In Japan, I've seen winter-blooming peonies grown this way, with large flower in full bloom out in the garden even though it was snowing outside.

In Ralph Watts' book from 1917, bees are shows being brought into a greenhouse in winter to pollinate cucumbers in Boston, or kept just behind a glasshouse with the advice to open a few panes of glass.

Pie Wars - Pumpkin or Squash?

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Wed, 21 Nov 2018 23:03:00 +0000

Tomato tomahto? With squash and pumpkin, it's much worse than that timeless debate. Without even daring to step into the omnipresent 'Pumpkin Spice' arena (I wouldnt dare), this post does demonstrate how we humans sometime just get carryied away with perception and marketing.

My point here is this: There is no such thing as pumpkin pie.
It's all Squash.

Seems like even brand marketers can't make up their mind. Or they feel that this option is the safest route.

Sort of, because there is something called pumpkin pie actually made from orange pumpkins. I see it all the time on some food blogs and on Instagram. An eager and overly-ambitious food blogger will usually show us how. Well meaning, yes, but unless they are using a modern sugar pumpkin which can pass as a marginally suitable filling, you just can't use any old orange pumpkin left over from Halloween. If you do, you will end up with a watery mess with little taste.

This confusion does start with the history of the word 'Pumpkin'. While old, it is just an alteration of an even older name for many squashes from around the 1500's when many simply called these clunky, bulbous fruits 'pumpion', or 'pompone', depending on what country you lived and farmed in. The Middle French name for a squash with this shape was even 'Pompon'. It is beleived that American colonists brought these names over and some stuck. As for 'pumpkin pie' .while it too is nearly as old (1600's), what we thought then was 'pumpkin' (or even 'pie' for that matter) is quite different than what we associate both with today. Even as late as the 1800's, 'Pumkin Pie' wasnt a pastry-sort-of-thing, but a custard often cooked inside of an actual pumpkin (or actually, a squash - you'll see.).

The good news is that there are plenty of fine new and heirloom winter storage squashes available today to use, and many might still be in your autumn displays.

At the original Thanksgiving, winter squash looked something more like this, and it was probably baked in a Dutch oven or whole with the cavity filled with a custard-like mixture.

Much of this might already be familiar to you. Countless historical articles appear every autumn in cooking magazines hinting to parts of this lore. We've read that 'Punkin' is a vulgar slang for a 'person with their hair cut short all around, (as in 'punkin-head' - and yes, this does sound like a premise for a Hollywood movie) (I think it was.), but the while the story on how we arrived today with these very two, different words for winter squashes (particularly 'pumpkin' for the large, round orange-shaped one) is still confusing. Especially since marketers have run off with not only 'Pumpkin Pie', used in Holiday Lyrics and now that the spices have even become trendy.

Have you ever tried to make a pumpkin pie from an orange Halloween pumpkin?

If you have, then you may have discovered that the result wasn't exactly what you might have expected. Often, it's a big mistake (or at least one that your great, great, great, great grandmother wouldn't approve of). A sugar pumpkin perhaps might work, but in no way should any of us use an orange pumpkin to cook with.

Chefs know (and you'll see the canned 'pumpkin' companies know too) that the best (and most authentic) pumpkin pie comes from any number of hard-shelled winter squashes and not a watery-ol Halloween-type pumpkin. How do I know this? First of all, thanks, mom. I grew up in one of those families who not only grew their own winter storage squashes, but who spent a couple of days preparing them (in the 1970's before we had a food processor) by smashing them on a rock outside, peeling them without losing a finger then roasting them in the oven (or was it steaming them?). My job was usually forcing the now soft flesh through a chinois or Chinese hat shaped sieve with a mallet. Fine for an 8-year-old, but it's not something I am going to do today.

This year I am using up some Red Hubbard along with a few Warted Green Hubbard squashes. Peeling and cutting these beasts is a task best saved for those with protective gear and muscles. This one is small enough to cut inside, but usually I throw them off the deck onto the stone walk to split first.

Eventually, a meat grinder was employed as if we were making sausage, and then finally the first Cuisinart - thank God. Our Squash of choice was either Waltham Butternut (Cucurbita pepo) or Blue Hubbard. There are finer cooking squashes of course, and today, even more heirlooms are available, but when it comes to pumpkin, one learns quickly if making from scratch, that the results will only be watery and tasteless, not to mention colorless.

Sure, there are a few new sugar pumpkin varieties which by name alone tells us that they might be a bit better for pie, (they aren't), but regardless of what some hip cooking blogs might be telling you, peeling a pumpkin and making your own pie will be disappointing. You might as well steam and mash up an old, giant zucchini or an Acorn squash to get the same results.

OK, let's be honest. If you are like me, you've had to zip out to the supermarket one more time before Turkey Day only to find those who rarely cook - literally freaking out about having to make a pie from 'scratch' (meaning 1. buy a premade crust from Pillsbury. 2. Buy a can of pumpkin pie filling. 3. Dump, spice up, and cook.). Hey, I've done this too, and as my assistant at work pointed out one day - "your family didn't even know the difference, did they?".

The thing id - They didn't notice. Apparently only I seem to have the ability to distinguish the flavor and texture of a rare heirloom warted squash from that of a mush dumped from a can of 'Libby's'. Still, I guarantee that you can taste the difference, if not see it. Plant people have that gift.

But here's the thing...'Libby's' knows something much of us don't. That can of "pumpkin' is actually a winter squash - one that Libby's bred and continued to use today in all of its commercial pie filling. The squash they grow is called 'Dickinson's Pumpkin' (it's a beige or tan, a Butternut-colored winter squash that botanically is of a different genus than orange pumpkins that we are familiar with). Read more about it here The Great Pumpkin Pie Conspiracy in the Atlantic.

Have you ever noticed that there are not photos of real pumpkins or squash on the labels of pumpkin pie filling? There's a reason why producers turn to illustrations of pumpkins or just a slice of pie. It's because of the legal department.

What's interesting to me is that on the label of most every pumpkin pie filling is either a photo of a pie, or an illustration of a Halloween pumpkin, and never an image of a squash. Sure, squash itself has a bad name and many associate icky, pasty tasting gunk rather than sweet, orange, cinnamon-flavored desert - but why no photos of orange pumpkins then on the can? Every other canned vegetable has a beautiful photo of the appropriate vegetable on it?

The answer is legal. Packaging requirements established and controlled by the USDA and FDA have very strict rules. While their description of what exactly can be considered 'pumpkin-pie filling'is vague, it does restrict it to being any hard-skinned winter squash, any golden-fleshed sweet squash such a

Libby's is considered by many to have the finest quality of all the canned pumpkin or squash pie fillings. After all, the kind of invented it!

We can buy seeds today of 'Dickenson's Squash or Pumpkin from many heirloom seed sources, but Butternut equals it for density, sugar, and flavor, not to mention color. It may be the easiest and will make a very fine pumpkin pie. It's my go-to most of the time, but I still try a few other winter squashes as each is so very different.

Around here in Massachusetts, we live in the land of winter squashes. The Blue Hubbard was developed here 250 years ago, and Waltham, of Waltham Butternut Fame, was a field station outside of Boston where the variety was developed. Not to mention that the Pilgrims and Plymouth Rock happens to be an hour away.

To understand all of this a bit better, it helps to know that most of the fruits we call squash fall into three distinct species, botanically speaking. don't worry, this will make complete sense. Our hard-skinned winter squashes come from two species. Most are grouped into Cucurbita moschata like the Hubbards, the Kabocha or Lakota squashes, the Turban types, Buttercups and many of the weird-yet-beautiful warted heirlooms. Most of these make a fine pie filling. Fewer come from Curcurbita moschata but many of the finest eating squashes including the beloved Butternut group, those Fairy Tale pumpkins often sold as Cinderella squashes, and surprisingly 'Dickenson Pumpkin', the tan commercial variety used in canned filling.

The last group - Cucurbita pepo includes not only Zucchini but also summer squash and other summer-types like patty pan, We know that when we leave a zucchini in the garden that the skin gets hard, but it is still thin. The orange Halloween and sugar pumpkins are also C. pepo, as are Acorn squashes. These usually need added sugar to make them more edible and are usually more watery when cooked.

Hey Kale, Your Closest Relative is Crunchier, Yummier and Even Healthier. Oh, and Apparently It's Cool Again - Some Cabbage Love

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Tue, 13 Nov 2018 19:28:00 +0000

As Food and Wine magazine wrote this month - 'The Cabbage Craze is Officially 'Real'. I would add "The cabbage craze is real again.".

Of course, there are other family members to thank for this resurgence in total-brassica-love such as the kimchi 'kraze', (or any fermented brassica for that matter), cauliflower (both in it's 'steaks' and 'riced' forms), Kohlrabi and it's Instagramable visual appeal, and even Brussel's Sprout (now that we all know how to prepare them properly (raw and sliced in winter salads or oven roasted with sea salt and a spritz of walnut oil).

Sure, kale is still cool (for some) but honestly, it's probably the most challenging to prepare in the kitchen as it must be perfectly fresh (pre-cut in poly bags just won't do) and we all know the one or two supermarkets that have some mysterious ability to actually keep Tuscan kale crispy and fresh for 5 hours (until we bring it home and store it in the fridge.). Unfortunately, at least in our house - unless there is kale in the garden which one can pick fresh, it's far easier to turn to an old half-a-head of cabbage found in the back of the fridge which the clever home chef can trim off the oxidized greybits and rescue it for some lucky dish and thus 'save-the-day'.

Young cabbage plants (an kohlrabi in the background) in our garden last summer. This is an early variety, sown in late May in the greenhouse and set out in mid June, the heads were mature by early July and were as sweet as an apple and crispy like Iceberg lettuce. The bed was complete by the end of July and replanted with a non-brassica crop (dill).

Cabbage it seems has always been a lifesaver, not just on busy weekday evenings after work, but back almost to antiquity. One of it's most valued traits is its storage-ability. Before refrigeration (which really wasn't that long ago as my dad remembers when we only had an ice box (with ice delivered twice a week!), there were pits and root cellars - at least here in New England. We still have one but rarely use it but cabbage, though much maligned by some Europeans 400 years ago who dismissed it as a peasant crop (it was, after all), saved countless lives along with other brassicas like turnips and rutabaga.

We would be hard-pressed to find one distant relative who didn't survive on cabbage or a winter brassica - regardless of our ethnicity if one traces their heritage back to Europe, northern Asia, and even Japan or Korea. In many ways, cabbage is the true hero of the vegetable kingdom - and not just during the Middle Ages, but today with its cancer-fighting phytochemicals and who knows what else, we have much to thank cabbage for. Sure, the sulfur compounds might bother a few, but as my dad would say - those farts are 'cabbage kisses' (eww, sorry).

Drum-head cabbages are old-fashioned and are often found in Asian markets (or sometimes organic markets) wrapped in plastic to help maintain their unique, crispy quality. Don't be put off by their flatter heads, sometimes wider than a dinner plate, they are usually very sweet and have a higher water content than most winter storage cabbage, and thus are more tender and useful both raw and cooked. Given the option at the market, I will choose a flat-head over a round one.

In our house, this has always been true. Thanks to my Lithuanian heritage I am hard-wired to not merely 'like' cabbage - but to truly crave this Eastern European staple. I can remember my parents and my older aunts and uncles laughing about how old they were going to live due to their cabbage consumption (my grandfather and my Dad lived until 100 years of age so who knows?). For others though, it may just be because cabbage is sweet and delicious. Crunchy, yummy and useful in so many dishes in the fall and early winter when the large storage cabbages come to market - the world of cabbage while to the supermarket shopper may seem boring, is indeed surprisingly broad and diverse. Close relatives like kale and collards aside, just plain old heading cabbage is anything but common to the clever gardener and curious cook.

One of the best things about keeping a home veg gardens isn't just fresh, healthy vegetables - it's that you can choose what varieties you want to grow - and when it comes to cabbage - don't fall for what's available at garden centers or as seedlings in 6 packs - for bedding plant growers generally know even less than produce buyers for supermarkets - and you will most likely end up with ordinary, generic and under-performing varieties simply because we all aren't asking for the best cabbage, or the newest, or oldest heirloom, or the tastiest. Plug growers will just keep ordering the least expensive seed from their mass market seed suppliers because as far as they are concerned - the consumer is just fine with what they have already. This is why those labels found in 6 packs with names like Danish Ball Head, Red Acre, Golden Acre or even simple ones that just say 'cabbage' are still the same labels as the ones printed in the 1980's. They assume that we don't care.

Commercial growers assume that most consumers don't care about the variety they are buying, and the sad truth is - they are right. We, gardeners, care though and should know better when it comes to buying a flat of seedlings - especially when finding one labeled simply 'Cauliflower' (or 'Cabbage'). The horticultural system doesn't make it easy for plug growers to get new or the best varieties either. I've seen their seed-source catalogs, and they are limited to mass-produced varieties that are generally old and haven't changed since 1970. Plug growers grow what they know the buyer at a big box store will buy, and usually, that buyer isn't that informed either. We can change this though - look at how the heirloom tomato trend changed the varieties nurseries now offer? We just have to care and sales data will train buyers and growers to try harder.

Think about it -those colored plastic plant labels in some veggies haven't changed from the 1970's. Cabbage varieties like ' Golden Acre' or 'Danish Ball Head' - even 'Savoy' still appear. (Savoy is a group or type, not a variety). What can you do? Look for nurseries who care about plants, those who hand write their labels and may offer new or choice heirlooms that can only be found in the specialty or trusted seed catalogs (like Johnny's, or Fedco). Better yet - order seed from reliable sources and grow your own. You can do it! (my book may help!).

But maybe that's about to change now that we trained the system to pay more attention to what we really want to grow - I mean, look at how quickly plug growers adapted to adding heirloom tomatoes to their lists?

Thankfully, we savvy types can order seed from many great sources of interesting, choice and premium varieties of cabbage - most of which will never find a space on a plug growers list for buyers to choose from. It would be too difficult for the few plug growers who supply the Home Depot's, Lowes, Costco's and Walmart's to ask their buyers to ask agent to ask their liner grower to ask their plug grower to deviate from their normal way of acquiring seed - from the largest seed houses in the world who buy inexpensive seed of old, generic varieties in great volume to fill the garden centers of the world.

Those who dare may order a pound of seed or so of a great variety from a Johnny's or Fedco, but there is always the risk that the consumer who is stopping by the hardware store to buy a bag of grass seed and fertilizer, sees the tomato plants outside and thinks 'I should really plant the veg garden this weekend', and then perhaps chooses their entire season's-worth of plant via 6 packs. Cabbage then, if they are interested, is usually just an afterthought - "Honey - do you want red cabbage or savoy?", and then that's about the extent of it. ]

Home-grown brassica plants from seed will produce the largest and healthiest plants for many reasons, but mainly because they will have been raised without PGR treatment. Chemicals sprayed to make seedlings look stocky are used universally by growers to create a healthy-looking transplant. These will always look 'healthier' than home-raised ones, dense and ticght with thick stems. Don't be fooled, start your own seed and never use PGR's or Plant Growth Regulators (root and foliar applications of various chemical's). It's why that store bought tomato plant always looks nicer than one grown at home - even in ideal greenhouse conditions (and it's why fall mums look so dense and mounded), I'm not anti-chemical for I use both organic and inorganic fertilizer, but with food crops.

We, however, dare to look deeper.

We want to grow the finest, the best quality cabbage or even a very unusual but outstanding variety that grows tremendously large, or has some unique quality that enhances the creativity of the home chef. I like to approach it as "if the finest chefs of the world chose the cabbage variety they would want to serve in their finest restaurants - which ones would they choose?" And then, I would grow those in my home garden.

With my book on growing vegetables due to come out in early January 1, 2019 (Mastering the Art of Vegetable Gardening - (and yes - feel free to pre-order it right now on Amazon - shameless pitch!), I am tuned in to cabbage. In it I dedicate an entire chapter to this veg. I share lots of new cultural information on how to sow and grow the brassica's (the cabbage family) as well for growing the crop well is not exactly the easiest of tasks. Few have great luck when it comes to cabbage in the garden.

My favorite cabbage as a raw veggie is really a toss-up between Carflex and any red cabbage. Caraflex has a short season so it's a treat for a month in summer, but red cabbage stores well as become number one for much of the rest of the year.

Just as a musician is often asked "so what's your favorite song?' I'm often asked "What is your favorite vegetable?' Truly, hands down for me it is cabbage. Really. In fact, it's red cabbage if you really must know. As a kid red cabbage felt fancy to me. Only found in restaurants or at salad bars and for some reason, it always tastes sweeter. I could occasionally get my parents to plant a row but they felt that red cabbage was wasteful in the garden for it didn't store well and one could not make sour kraut with it. Red cabbage was reserved mainly for two things - fresh eating in salads and sometimes in sauerbraten. It wasn't practical, and as such, was a novelty they planted to appease me. their nerdy child. White cabbage was more useful, for use in slaws, or kraut in the late fall and in those inevitablele pots of cabbage soup all winter. Yes, we were that Lithuanian.

Cabbage must be grown with perfect to keep its crispy quality. After harvest care is important too if one wants to keep the perfect crunch. Even cabbage from the market must be soaked overnight and stored in a polybag and then refrigerated overnight for maximum crunch-factor. The thing is, this crunch is what one will get from a head picked fresh from the garden.

Fall planting of cabbage in September benifits from a floating row cover, if only to keep cabbage butterflies from laying eggs and by providing a bit of warmth in late autumn. A fabric or poly mulch helps keep late summer weeds to a minimum.

A hundred years ago folks really appreciated and knew how to deal with cabbage. Two hundred years ago and they really knew how valuable their crop of cabbage was. It often meant the difference between famine and life. It was preservable, either in cold storage or as a pickled ferment, and it paired perfectly with most of the storage meats, especially those from the curing shed like pork. In France, we find this best expressed in the classic Pot au Feu with its charcuterie, root veggie s,sausages and various cabbages including fermented cabbage. Germany, Eastern Europe, Austria, Switzerland even China has its braised cabbage dishes based on winter stock from the larder and root cellar. In a time before refrigeration a little kraut enhanced a pork belly, ham or confit duck leg pulled fresh from its comfy plunge of fat in a cold barrel kept somewhere cool. It's how many of our ancestors survived, and cabbage was often the partner in what many of us now consider high-fare dining.

Understanding cabbage takes some homework if you are new to cabbage. First, think of varieties as three main types - Early, mid-season and late. This is how cabbage was organized by farmers who grew it in the mid 19th century but few today ever think about 'type'or variety beyond what they know. WIth cabbage, all 'types'have their star performers, and to enjoy really great - and I mean really great cabbage, you will have to test a few varieties out and type them for yourself, for like so many vegetables -the finest varieties are often a bit harder to find - meaning that one will have the most luck with varieties found in reputable seed catalogs - and from the ones who actually grow the crops or breed them themselves and not from a generic package found in a seed rack. Certainly, not from seedlings found at a large garden center unless one really knows the variety well.

Late cabbage often has beautifully tinted leaves hiding a tender, crisp interior. Sown in July or even early August, plants in our New England garden can often remain outside until Thanksgiving.

VARIETIES TO TRY

True cabbage connoisseurs have their favorites,and more often than not the top winner here is a variety known as 'January King' and forget about finding it in markets, this giant, purple-tinted hard-headed late cabbage is one you will need to grow yourself - along with the short list of other top plant-geek favorites, including mine - the early cone-headed 'Caraflex', a weird pointy cabbage the British call a 'hispi' type.

If you don't believe me, try to grow an early cabbage like a conical or cone-headed variety next year - like Caraflex F1even in your raised beds. I suggest a variety called 'Caraflex', an early, small cone-shaped cabbage which is easy to grow. even in containers as an early summer cabbage. It's being discovered by top chefs as well as by foodies who are growing it in their backyard gardens. I have even found it sold in some specialty markets this fall (Wegman's and Whole Foods in the Northeast).

'Caraflex cabbage, a cone-shaped delight.

Talk about sweet and crispy, Caraflex is tender, crispy and delicious that it is being marketed by its breeder in Europe along with other early, tender and sweet cabbages as 'Léttage' (Lettuce and Cabbage-like. You heard it here, first.). Because these cabbages are lower sulfur (i.e. less farting) yet high in sugar - they taste sweeter. Although best of all is that tender 'crunch factor'. Brassica Magazine(yes - there is such a thing) lists these along with other trends as 'Brassica Concepts' that are changing how cabbage and other brassicas are being marketed. Expect in the near future Kohlrabi sticks pre-packaged (sold as Kohrispy) and new shrink-wrapped Danish flat-head tender and crispy cabbages. These are all hot items in Dutch supermarkets. The days of tough, woody leather-like cabbage may be over. Remember though- it will take time for consumers to adapt, but you can grow these varieties at home.

Caraflex produced such a slender head that it can be grown in large containers. I have grown great crops in elevated cedar beds.

It is short-lived in slaw as it will wilt and sweat out moisture quicker than storage cabbage but just dress it immediately before serving. A slaw made with 'Caraflex' is sensational - as tender as one made from Iceberg lettuce in a way, yet sturdy enough to saute in butter as well. OK - In pork fat. Who am I kidding?

'Carflex' isn't an heirloom variety though, introduced worldwide by its breeder Bejo Seeds, Inc. in 2016 yet trialed a few years earlier and distributed first by Johnny's Selected Seeds in the US for trial - I first grew it in 2011. So while this month's Food and Wine magazine promotes it as 'a lesser-known heirloom', it's new. It's so popular that the breeder has even published 'sensory data on how well people like its taste and texture. It has also been awarded an RHS Award of Merit.

Young cabbge seedlings still outside where they were sown in mid-May. The warmer and much brighter sun along with spring breezes keep these plants sturdy and strong. If a hatch of cabage butterflies is seen, I move them to the protection of the greenhouse until I plant them out in the garden. I've lost many trays of seedlings to the almost invisible larvae, but plants grown this way are much healthier than those found in garden centers in spring as they have never been treated with PGR's and the varieties are always better.

MASTERING CABBAGE

Like most brassica crops, growing cabbage well takes some commitment. Crop rotation is essential, yet difficult to achieve in the home garden if one keeps raised beds. Why rotate? For a number of reasons but most relate to disease. Clubroot and certain insects which lay their eggs in the autumn and hatch in the cold, early spring are problematic and difficult to steer around if one grows cabbage in a soil where any other brassica crop was grown the previous year. Forget about myths like marigolds and companion plants, for while nematodes dislike their roots, there is little data that this benefits cabbage at all. I also discourage manure teas and other fads as cabbage is a heavy feeder and may require you to shop the carb aisle (blue instant fertilizer) if you really want it to grow stupendously. Hey, we all like a Twinkie now and then.

Sowing cabbage seed is often where the home grower makes a crucial but fatal mistake. While we often think of brassica (cruciferous - the old name) crops as cold weather crops, you might be surprised to know that cabbage germinates best at high temperatures - 80 - 85 degrees. Once germinated, plants can handle cooler temps, and knowing why this is will help you understand many of the requirements that will enhance cabbage (and other brassicas) success. Without getting into too much detail - all brassica's are native to the warm Mediterranean. As biennials, they naturally bloom in their second year during the hot early summer and set seed which drops into warm soil. Cool, moisture-rich weather comes in the autumn and seeds germinate, grow all winter in a cool, maritime winter, and then bloom and set seed in the summer again. When we try to grow cabbage or any brassica, knowing this helps us understand things like why cabbage and broccoli like warm germination temps but grow best when it is relatively cool.

Early ball-head types are very tender yet crisp, never fiberous. I think they could almost be named an entirely different vegetable than tougher storage-types. If you find cabbage to be too sulfurous or tough, try these. They don't store well however, so one rarely finds them in supermarkets, but their looser heads and tender leaves make a superior slaw - look for them at some local farmer's markets, or grow early cabbage yourself - as it's a treat few have ever experienced.

Plants should and could be set out in cooler weather of course as they grow larger. I wait to start all of my brassica seed be it broccoli, cauliflower or kale until June. Why so late? I have a good reason, and it's backed up by some new research. Later sowing of brassicas in man parts of the country gives the plants a healthier start for a few reasons. First, the bright early summer sunshine keeps the seedlings growing short and stout (a reminder that many commercial growers cheat by using PGR's or plant growth regulators on most of our veg. seedling crops which makes cells grow shorter, resulting in a more marketable ('healthier-looking') seedling. The sad part is many PGR's last a while in the soil and plants, and I have found that plants grown from seed out on my own deck in full sun grow the best crops. Sure, the seedlings don't look as tight and thick-stemmed as the ones on the shelves at the nursery, but I know why - and, it's totally natural.

Sticky yellow paper traps will show you when the hatch or 'flights' of certain insects occur in your garden. Here, we are looking for the date of our largest flight of cabbage root maggot fly, usually in mid-spring while temps hover near 40 deg. Note this date and plant seedlings of all brassica's after it. even though there will be 5 or 6 more hatches, by the second largest hatch again in cool weather in autumn, the plants will be large enough to handle a bit of root damage from munching larvae. Why bother? Imagine the amount of insecticide used commercially on the entire cabbage family. Unless you can afford to buy organic year-round, these are great tips to use at home.

The second reason why I sow seeds later near the summer solstice is that research has shown that late sowing of brassica crops helps many avoid the biggest hatch (flight) of a destructive cabbage insect -the dreaded cabbage root fly maggot. The same goes for radishes, turnips and other cabbage family crops by the way. Ever get those brown tunnels in radishes or suffered from your cabbage plants that looked so healthy for a couple of months but discovered that they started wilting on hot days? That's why. Tiny rot maggots dine on the roots, and the largest hatch in most areas is in late April until mid-May. There are typically 7 other hatches but they rarely affect larger plants.

The cabbage root fly maggot (Delia radicum) starts life as a simple fly that looks rather like a tiny harmless house fly. Mature females lay their last eggs in the autumn, looking for the roots of any brassica crop- from arugula to brussels sprouts, where the eggs can lay in the soil over-winter, and then hatch as soon as outside temps in spring reach 40 deg. Usually just as we all traditionally planted our broccoli, kale and cabbage seedlings outside. The largest flight happens near the end of cold weather season - when temps tip just above 40 to 50 degrees.

Late crops of any of the Asian brassicas are often more tolerant of insect damage. I sow my cress, Napa cabbage, Chinese Cabbage and Tatsoi in late August in raised beds. A floating row cover keeps the butterflies at bay and once light frosts kill the bugs off, the cloths can keep these greens fresh and frost-free in the garden nearly until Christmas. It also keeps the dogs from eating them (they can't help themselves!).

Cabbage root fly maggots are tiny larvae which feed on the roots of all brassica crops - resulting in wilted plants just as the plants start to look their finest - in late June and July, or brown worm trails and tunnels in radishes, turnips and rutabagas. While Floating row covers may keep butterflies from laying eggs, they would be disastrous in controlling cabbage root fly. Adults hatch from eggs which have been eggs laid in the soil during the previous year. A row cover will only trap them in under the cover. Great for cabbage buutterfly, but not for soil born insects. Crop rotation would help, but few of us have the space to rotate ever 5-7 years.

The steps recently published by the UMass Extension service in steering your crops around the hatch of cabbage root fly maggots is something I outline in detail in my book, but briefly - care begins in the previous year by noting what beds have had brassica crops growing in them and then avoiding those beds for other brassica crops in the following spring (crop rotation). Don't forget - this includes late turnips, sprouting broccoli, Napa cabbage, and Asian greens and arugula - yes, both species of arugula are brassicas. Note that cabbage root fly maggots also feed on broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, parsnips, radish, rutabaga, and turnips.

A floating row cover saved many a brassica crop from butterflies and moths which find the leaves the perfect home for their eggs and larvae, but the fabric will do little to discourage other insect pests like root fly maggots which are already in the soil if one grew any brassica in the same bed the previous autumn. If you have no room to rotate, try covering the soil year round with a much and cross your fingers, or transplant seedlings after the first big spring flight to avoid the worst damage.

Then there are flea beetles, but they are less problematic to cabbage crops as they merely are acne for young plants - more of an issue with radishes, mustards, and turnips. For what it's worth - my tip for avoiding these pests is simple, but not for everyone. I've found that elevated cedar beds (the type on legs) deter them nearly 100% As flea beetles prefer to stay active near ground level, and not waist high. The use of fresh (replace every season) sterile potting mix helps tremendously in these raised beds that can be 3 feet off of the ground, and now I get big harvests of radishes that are clean - no chemical sprays needed. The same goes for other brassica crops like Napa cabbage.

Knowing what your particular pests are and when they hatch is key here. With Cabbage Root Fly Maggots I needed to know exactly what dates, particularly in the spring they hatched. I discovered that the first hatch was often around April 1st and in some years in late March if the snow melted by March 15th. To find out the largest flight or hatch for your garden you must set out yellow sticky traps. I get Safer brand sticky yellow cardboard traps and start setting ours in late March here in central Massachusetts. There will be no mistaking the big hatch of both flea beetles and cabbage root maggot fly as the adult fly's will stick to the yellow paper in great numbers.

Young, healthy cabbage set out without a mulch in late June.

One or two may be early, but one morning you will find the cards nearly covered. Take note of this date and repeat noting the temperatures and weather. A garden notebook is helpful, or start a spreadsheet. You should start seeing many agricultural universities and eventually Master Gardener programs starting to suggest many of these newer methods. Many organic farmer organizations are advising growers to plant brassicas after the large spring flight of these insects. Home growers should find their best results coming not from the traditional methods of sowing seed outside in the garden early (soil would be too cold) and certainly never in flats one sets outside in late winter with the assumption that cabbage and broccoli like cold temperatures - but by sowing seed in ones own plugs or cells set outdoors once the warmer weather has arrived - where seeds will warm in the brilliant summer sun of late May (in the protection of your close watch on a deck or porch) and then setting young plants out into the garden near to the summer solstice.

Certainly, nursery purchased brassica's will sulk compared to these other methods. Try it and see, resisting what may look like 'healthy' cabbage and broccoli' at nurseries and starting your own seedlings is quick (especially during those peak growing days of June), and seed sown in a 6 pack of sterile soil will often produce young plants in just a few weeks which will look decidedly better.

A New Book on Alpine Trough Gardening May, and Should, Change How You Container Garden

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Thu, 11 Oct 2018 22:05:00 +0000

'Hypertufa Containers - Creating and Planting an Alpine Trough Garden is a new book by Lori Chips that addresses a very specific gardening method which while old-fashioned, may have found its time given climate change and a gardening audience which is growing more and more aware.

I'm excited to be introducing you all to a terrific and useful book; Hypertufa Containers - Creating and Planting an Alpine trough Garden by my good friend Lori Chip's. While some may struggle to get past the title with 'Hypertufa', as good, decent garden folk - we should all know about by now. I just hope the title doesn't scare off the mass market who could benefit from this book.

The visual design of the book will help attract curious gardeners as it is modern, smart and visually interesting. But this book is so much more than just a good looking book. It does something rare in many gardening books today, for it has real content that is useful. Sure it will inspire, but even if you know nothing about alpine plants or rock gardenings, I guarantee that once you see the photos in this book that you will want to make a hypertufa trough garden.

This hypertufa trough is round and 24 inches deep - like a barrel. The hair-like root systems on these tight and dense saxifrages run all the way to the bottom planted in pieces of real tufa rock, they bloom in late winter often when snow still sits on them. Talk about hardy.

If you don't know what hypertufa is...
It's a concrete/organic mixture which was designed to mimic Tufa rock (more about that rock, later).
It's a product well known to rock and alpine gardeners, but beyond that small and geeky world, few know about it.

Hypertufa is not a trendy trend. It's far more horticulturally sound than let's say real trends like Hay Bale gardening or Lasagna gardening.

Hypertufa is more sustainable.
Gardens planted in it are intended to live a long time nd not be disposable.
Hypertufa is frost and freeze tolerant if made properly will last for decades.
Hypertufa in your garden will make you look like a serious plant person.

Here are some saxifrages planted in real tufa rock and sandwiched in Clay. A method only shared with a few folks a few years ago by rock gardening guru Josef Halda from the Czech Republic is a few workshops he did on the East Coast. We were fortunate to host him for a few days that year and he showed us a completely new way to grow alpines - sandwiching them in pottery clay between split pieces of tufa rock. The troughs planted in the manner are about ten years old now and still growing strong. Lori shares this method in her book a well - this alone is worth the price!

Proper trough gardening has for years been defined as essentially 'planting alpine plants as long-term gardens in containers', but it can be so much more. Hypertufa itself is a substitute material for real rock troughs (which are virtually unaffordable to most). It's where the name 'troughs' came from though- as alpine gardeners in the 19th and early 20th century started to use real stone farm sinks and troughs for their alpine plants. Today's troughs can be made in any shape, round, bowls, irregular, square, tall, deep, short or even looking like a piece rock - and Lori shows us all how to make them.

Hypertufa makes a sturdy stone-like container which can either mimic an ecosystem or a specific cultural need for a challenging plant. This means that one can grow many plants that won't grow anywhere else. Look at it this way - if this was the world of aquaria, hypertufa trough gardening would be akin to keeping an authentic, sustainable fish tank of rare species intended to live long and not just bowls of goldfish that will die -which is how many of us treat our containers today. Disposable flower arrangement of plants.

Hypertufa troughs don't need to be large, this one is only 10 inches long.

I think that the challenge in the past was the while only serious plant geeks planted hypertufa containers, they rarely looked good which didn't help their cause. Most troughs ended up looking like cheap, concrete planters with rocks. But Lori's book proves that that doesn't have to be the case. Even my hypertufa troughs seen in the images throughout this post don't look as good as hers do -I am so inspired.

Trough gardening can be as simple recreating nature in miniature or as complex as recreating a bit of ecology from a very specific mountaintop in which to raise an endangered plant in. While some are known to drift dangerously close to fairy gardening, most will fall somewhere in between.

Primula marginata blooming in March in a hypertufa trough that I bought at my first NARGS meeting 18 years ago but that still grows great plants.

Trough gardening has a history though, growing out of the Victorian rock gardening craze as enthusiasts in the late 19th century and early-to-mid 20th century found that it was even easier to raise these often difficult plants in containers and that large, rock sinks and stone horse troughs were common back then, and these sturdy containers were naturally considered as containers for these plants. Remember - back then most if not all containers were clay - a material that would crack in winter frosts. Rock was the only other option aside from wood.

There are many groups and types of saxifrages but the encrusted ones (dense rock-hard growing high-alpine ones) which tended to be only for specialists with alpine houses seem to thrive if planted in trough gardens. This one came from Wrightman Alpines already rooted in a piece of real tufa rock making me look like a genius with a green thumb.

I suppose that trough gardening just never took off in the US as it did in the UK, at least it never moved beyond the rock gardening world. The reason may be that there were only a few stone farm troughs to go around, or simply that homemade hypertufa troughs never looked attractive. If a large container company designed them professionally it may have helped. but the hurdles to creative containers - that would be unrealistically heavy and then to raise the proper plants for them not to mention soil mixes I can understand why it all seemed like too much.

'Trough gardening' includes most any container - not only stone sinks. This is one I made out of a 1950's cooler that I designed to look perfect on the steps of a ski lodge. A little crazy, but I loved making it and planting it with high-elevation mountain plants.

Today we are different. Many folks have no problem making their own kombucha or attempting to make puff pastry at home. We have access to more materials and curious, smart people are always on the lookout for something new, authentic and interesting. Raising alpine plants in hypertufa troughs checks off all of those.

Since many true alpines are difficult to find, seed-raised plants are easier to obtain - and these are often available once or twice a year at local NARGS plant sales and seedling exchanges such as these yellow draba and white pulsatilla which I raised from seed and shared with my local chapter. Super-rare plants are often only a couple of dollars each when purchased as seedlings. By the way - Pulsatilla is so hardy in my troughs that I have them planted in most everyone- never losing one to winterkill or summer drought. They don't live in my garden, though! Only on my deck in hypertufa troughs.

Yet it's not about rarity either. Trough collections make a statement. They can be planted just for pure beauty alone or as a way to display a collection of plants. Clever gardeners like the artist and author Abbie Zabar keeps a curated collection in which she has planted only the prettiest forms of sempervivums - hens and chicks, which are true alpines by the way. These live on the ledges and rooftop in her New York City penthouse garden. She is somehow able to cultivate a spectacular collection which thrives in a number, tiny, stone and hypertufa troughs that Abbie has collected over the years. These troughs flourish high above the city - and I am certain that her plants believe that they are growing high on a mountaintop in the French Alps.

Lori shows all types of hypertufa troughs in her book, but also she outlines everything that you would need to know about rock gardening - from planting and designing with real tufa rock to choosing the right plants and where to find them. My troughs, which are all hypertufa sit all over my garden - on walks, near doorways and on the deck. Most are just planted and then left alone aside from a bit of weeding now and then. They are very long-lived and are essentially little ecosystems.

In a way, troughs can whatever the garden creator wants them to be. From the tiniest zoos - little environments for only the hard-to-grow plants to just lovely containers for a few dwarf trees and easy growing woodland plants.

Of course, you can plant anything in a trough. I often plant a few of mine with just an interesting annual of one type like Monkeyflower (mimulus) or California poppies just to be different. Californian annuals that I buy from Annies Annuals that wouldnt survive our winter often do very well in them if planted early in spring. Two of mine have a dwarf Japanese Black Pine planted in them.

Primula marginata selections blooming in late February on a mild day outdoors, unprotected in a hypertufa trough. Better than crocus or pansies as few people (or even botanic gardens) have these rare plants in their colelctions, but you can.

LoriChips' book is thorough and comprehensive which isn't surprising as alpine plants are her life. The reader will find everything one needs to know about trough making and designing. This is a book that is jam-packed with information. It's will be useful for those new to gardening to those who are experts. Regardless of your level of experience this book will excite and inspire you. It's design is fresh and modern, attractive enough to be a picture book alone but it is much more than that.

What I most appreciate is that this book is loaded with step-by-step pictures which frankly illustrate tips and steps which are not even found on the internet as few people grow plants in troughs. All levels of gardeners will enjoy it.

One of my hypertufa troughs planted with various high-elevation alpine plants from the Pyrenees. I like to choose mountain ranges that I've explored and then recreate them in miniature in troughs, but you dont need to be that geeky. Still, this Primrose marginata from the Alps will grow terrifically if planted in a trough, while in the garden it may sulk. Once planted, these troughs are rather carefree. Sure you might lose a plant or two each year, but that only makes room for others.

What should make trough gardening attractive to most gardeners though is that troughs are designed for long-term planting which is the smartest way to plant them. Consider trough plantings like bonsai for perennial plants for a well curated trough can last a decade or more. A trough could contain a mini-meadow or prairie, or it could be planted with woodland ferns and ephemeral wildflowers or miniature hardy perennials.

A row of alpine plants in troughs on my deck (and a few window boxes planted with a tender South African bulb that does well in troughs in zones 7 or higher - Rhodohypoxis sit on our deck. The hypertufa troughs are lined up in the winter so that I can cover them with either a hoop of fiberglass roofing material or an old storm window - just to keep the worst of the wet winter weather off of them, they are left open on the sides for cold breezes and blowing snow.

If you want to learn more beyond Lori's book, I suggest joining the North American Rock Garden Society (NARGS). NARGS clubs are local too so look for a chapter near you and just show up at a meeting as see if you like it then join. Members are super friendly and love new gardeners, and I can't think of a better place to get started (at my first NARGS meeting in 2001 I came home with a car laod of plants and a trough!). NARGS isn't just about alpine plants though, most members are passionate plant people and gardeners with all sorts of interests from orchids to ferns, woodland plants, woody plants, bulbs, trees, shrubs, rhododendrons, conifers. cacti and succulents. and many wildflowers. There are local chapters all over the country and many international members as well. Join for their seed exchange in winter and their 4 color quarterly journal which is one of the finest plant geek magazines. Join!

This tiny Primula allionii 'LismoreTreasure' is growing in a real piece of tufa rock, not hypertufa. While hard to find and costly, pieces of this porous limestone rock are often for sale at meetings of local rock garden societies. I planted this hard-to-grow plant as a seedling into a hole that naturally appeared in the rock, and then just left it alone. It rooted through the rock and as the rock is set into a gravelly mix in a large hypertufa container, it's on its own - and thriving.

As for finding the right plants, this might be the hardest part. The truth is that the finest alpine plants though are hard to find.- of course, this adds to the overall appeal. What I don't get from NARGS meetings and members I order from Wrightman Alpines in Canada - great friends of mine, and they ship throughout the US). Shipping just ended for the autumn but early spring is a great time to stock up on these rare plants. Other alpine nurseries include Arrowhead Nursery in Michigan but many specialist nurseries carry plenty of rare and interesting plants that could be considered 'rock garden plants' (plant descriptions will often say 'great for troughs or rock gardens'. Oliver Nursery in Faifield, CT where Lori works sells alpines to but only direct at the nursery. They have a fine collection.

Also try rare plant nurseries. Try Plant Delight's Nursery, Sequim Rare Plants, Thimble Farms, and Digging Dog. All good nurseries will have plants that might be appropriate for troughs, but my big secret tip here is again to join your local NARGS or Rock garden Society as most have bi-annual plant sales, and a membership in the national club allows you to purchase seeds from one of the finest seed exchanges with rare seed collected from all over the planet. These seeds become available every December and often shares seed from expeditions to remote areas all the way to members secret collections.

I'm 100% Corn Fed and Totally OK with It

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Fri, 21 Sep 2018 02:37:00 +0000

I happen to love September because of one thing - sweet corn. Today many of us struggle with corn. We don't know how to fit it into our diet, many denounce it as a product of industrial agriculture and monoculture, we read labels and reject anything with a corn product on it and we steer clear of corn syrup. It sometimes seems as if the only safe corn product that I don't get raise eyebrows with at my local Whole Foods are locally made corn tortillas. I guess they're OK.

A few of us still celebrate sweet corn and dried corn however, especially as a garden crop. Even small -yard gardeners with limited space can grow some varieties - especially new ones specially bred for containers (although I do feel that these are best considered as a novelty crop and not something worthy of feeding a family with). The fact is a full raised bed 4 x 8 feet or a 10 x 20-foot plot can provide a decent crop if you have the room.

Adventurous gardeners and in-touch foodies still secretly seek out rarest varieties but don't make the mistake of assuming one is better than another simply because it has a fun name or an early introduction date. Unlike tomatoes, heirloom varieties aren't always better tasting, especially when it comes to sweet corn. Dried corn, on the other hand, is often more complex and interesting if one does find a rare, old variety. Just do your homework

My tiny plot of corn still gives us corn in the tiny gap season when our local farms seem to run out.

I'm a pretty easygoing dude but a few things get under my skin. One of those things is sweet corn varieties available at farm stands and farmer's markets. Mainly the names of the varieties. This very well may be my personal gripe but when I see "Butter and sugar" spray painted on a sign I go crazy. (I know, I'm crazy too but really?). Lumping all sweet corn into two buckets (bushels?) helps no one.

I snapped this yesterday as I was driving home near my house. This isnt a farm but rather a 'pop-up' farm stand every summer in an abandoned lot. I assume everthing here comes from the Boston vegetable market but it is rather typical of what one seees everywhere.

Corn is affected more by cultural trends than most any other vegetable. My father considered himself a corn aficionado (I mean - you have no idea, he was literally crazy about sweet corn). My dad came from an entirely different era—born in 1914. I am certain that corn on the cob was often a complete meal for him and his 7 brothers in this house. I know this because we were one of those families that often had a few dozen ears of sweetcorn on the table for meals in the summer not to save money, but because it was good.

ARE YOU A 'BUTTER & SUGAR' or a 'SILVER QUEEN' FAN?

I am neither, although there is hardly a corn variety that I don't like, for fresh eating, I prefer a new hybrid by far (and not a super-sweet sugar-enhanced one from the 1980's either). Like most corn geeks I like a balance between corn flavor, starch, and some sugar, but mostly I like the popping texture that comes with some of the newest hybrids when you eat them straight off of the cob. There is nothing like it. If you've ever enjoyed very fresh corn cooked straight from the field, you know what I am talking about. The breakthrough of SE or Sugar Extender (sugar enhanced) corn was a big breakthrough in the late 20th century, and while those varieties are far better than old sweet corn varieties, they were bred for long-life on the supermarket shelf, and many of us just think that they are too sweet when compared against new Augmented Shrunken SH2 genetics or even Synergistic varieties.

Whah? Are you going all 'GMO' on me Matt?

No worries. I shall explain in far more detail than any human needs in this post. Which is probably why my publisher cut this chapter on corn from my upcoming book MASTERING THE ART OF VEGETABLE GARDENING (shameless plug - avail on Amazon now, but not shipped until it is published in December). This chapter should give you an idea on how I approach veg gardening in the book, but know that I've edited this down quite a bit.

I am hardly a normal consumer of corn (I am also hardly an expert, but rather a fan). My history with sweet corn dates back to the 1960's as I was tutored by a father (a serious corn addict) who demanded excellence when it came to fresh on-the-cob corn varieties. We would hop with him into our 1969 Country Squire station wagon and drive to certain local farms (somewhere he used to work as a kid) as their fields became ready to pick. He somehow knew what varieties Mr. Allaire or Mr. Salo was planting that year, and he knew the maturity dates. He also would demand that we be allowed out into the field to pick the corn so that it would be of optimum freshness.

'Illusion' F1 is a sweet Synergistic corn, available both as organic seed and conventional. It's our most favortie mid-season corn for the home garden. 'Sugar and Butter'? It's probably sold as that.

We were one of those households where sweet corn was considered a complete meal. Dozens would be cooked and that would be supper on any given weeknight in the summer. We would only be allowed to cut corn off of the cobs if it was too old, or if we needed to take it somewhere like on a picnic or to school for lunch.

Dad always believed that white corn was less desirable than yellow corn (which isn't true, really) but his parents who were born in 1889 only ate white corn. Dad was born in 1914, a time when corn hybridizing was changing things. While his parents only ate white corn (leaving the yellow 'cow corn' for farmers to eat green), dad and his 7 brothers preferred all-yellow corn. The corn of their generation, thanks to a new variety in the 1920's called 'Golden Bantam’.

Corn seems to come in styles and follows fashion. Bi-colored corn eventually became more popular than all-yellow corn in the mid-20th century but it was never my fathers favorite. I on the other hand while young wanted white corn, simply because it seemed rare and odd. No one had yet heard of 'Silver King'. ´ Either that or old-timers confused the new Silver King with an old variety with the same name - a silver dent dry corn that was introduced under the same name in the late 1930's. 'Siver King' was just a SE or sugar enhanced strain of 'Silver Queen' (an older SU standard corn). My point is - these are still old late 20th century varieties and we might want to move on from them. With over 125 varieties commonly grown, you probably have moved on but you just don't know it yet.

When I was a kid in the late 1960s a ‘new’ variety was introduced called ‘Silver King,’ and I can remember thinking that it was cool because it was all white, and it was sweeter than 'Silver Queen'. The problem was I coudl never get my dad to buy it. Then came Bi-colored corn. "Too fancy and novel," dad said. It wasnt until bi-color corn started to be marketed under the variety namesthat was more appealing did he try it. Names then began to be more user firendly and appealing. Thus, ‘sugar & butter’. Unfortunately, the original Sugar and Butter' is rarely grown today but most if not all bi-colored corn is simply sold under this name.

Blue corn varieties are generally heirloom types and are best for ornamental use. Still, how pretty is this Indigo variety?

WHY CARE ABOUT THE VARIETY NAME WITH CORN?

Wouldnt you want corn that had everything?
Flavor? The perfect balance of starch, sugar, and pop?
Then knowing the variety name is key.

Farm stands and market growers knwo that sweet corn is a cash crop. Even more so today. The race starts in early spring when growers try to get their corn planted earlier than their competitors. This year I noticed Remay floating fabric over an entire field near the farm where I grow veggies. The owner told me that they now plant corn as plugs very early in the spring - weeks before anyone else. Then they cover the fields with floating row covers to protect the seedlings from frost. This gives them a jump on all of the local competition.

A tip for us at home - corn plugs transplant easily and even though I've been starting my corn in cell containers for years, it does feel good to know that even the pros are doing it too. A 10 foot by 10 foot plot can hold 100 plants, and a couple of plug trays ensures 100% germination. I just pop the young plants into prepared ground with little effort even as early as mid april. May 5th is the typical sowing date for sweet corn here in Zone 5 New England.

Varieties do matter for both commercial farmers and home growers as date-to-maturity while important, isnt as critical as variety. Does it germinate in cold soil? Will the pollen affect a neighboring plot of corn? Will the stalks grow too tall and shade something else? Will all the corn come in at the same time? Some varieties grow better in early spring, others better in high summer. Some are best for the fall.

Flavor though is often the most important reason why a home grower would want to think long about the variety they are growing. Commercial farmers tend only to choose their crop varieties based on the market. Flavor doesn't factor in. Ten years ago you never knew the difference between a Brandywine tomato and a Big Girl. Today, you do. You also know the difference between the flavor of a 'Red Delicious' apple, vs a sour"GrannySmith' from the luscious sweetness of a 'Honeycrisp'. My point is that more and more of us today are informed - we know the difference. We are familiar with the names of some varieties, especially with fruit. We can tell the difference between hype and authenticity. We'll pay more for something that tastes better but with corn, we are still being told that it's just all one or two varieties. Odd when there are literally hundreds and hundreds of varieties. It's time to push farmers, farm stands, supermarkets and buyers to let us know what we are buying.

Home raised popcorn is a fun crop. Just be sure that the ears are pollinated well (by hand with tassels from another plant). This crop was raised in a double row that was hand pollinated last summer. Dry it well though if you plan to pop it.

THE HUNT FOR NEW CORN VARIETIES
Today it's almost impossible to find the true variety of sweet corn one is buying. And don''t just tell me that it is something called 'Butter and Sugar' or 'Silver Queen'. I don't buy that. Of course, new variety name probably need some tweaking or creativity, and few are any good or helpful. So renaming corn might be in order first. I can't imagine anyone stopping to buy a dozen ears because they saw a handpainted sign that says 'NATIVE. SS3778R F1 Corn, NEXT LEFT'. Yay!

Pollinate your corn at home by snapping off a tassel that is dripping with pollen on a dry afternoon, and shake it over the silks which are emergin on the little ears. It;s fun to do, and doesnt hurt the plant. Imagine every silk as a thread that leads to a kernel.

"Try this experiment. The next time you are buying corn, ask the seller what variety it is. (I do this all the time and only once (in Vermont) did I get an honest answer.). Most sellers will just say 'It's Butter and Sugar' or 'Silver Queen', even if they know the real name of the variety they are growing. People think those are varieties (they are, but I doubt that this is the variety they are buying), more often than not they are buying a 'type'of corn, and most growers just sell all bi-color corn as 'Butter and Sugar' and all white corn as 'Silver King or Queen'. At least on the east coast.

Old varieties of dry corn are often superior to newer ones. Here is one case where heirloom really delivers. Green Oaxcan corn makes some of the best cornmeal.

ONE HURDLE TO OVERCOME IS THAT NEW CORN VARIETIES HAVE BAD NAMES
We can't blame them. Most growers are scared shitless to admit that they actually are growing a variety named something like Mirai® 227 F1 or a brand new patented or registered augmented sugar gene SH2 or even a new Synergistic corn variety (which may be the best for texture and flavor) because most of thee varieties sound more like insecticide than corn varieties. Names like 'Vision MXR', 'Kickoff', 'Illusion' ' Allure', or 'Trinity' isn't going to get a home chef excited. The folks who name corn really need some help, but then again, they are trying with names like 'Sugar Pearl', 'Sugar Buns' or 'Delectable' - those are names that should capture our attention, but they are so similar to 'Sugar and Butter' why confuse people?

Homemade cornmeal is easy to make. I made this last year in my Vitamix blender.

WHAT ABOUT GMO CORN?

Corn genetics concern people, but probably more than they should: at least from the standpoint of the home gardener. First, there are no GMO corn varieties that a home grower could grow or even access. Regardless, some seed catalogs will state in a burst on their cover “NO GMO’S!” which is akin to saying that fat-free is healthy for you. The truth is, corn breeding is science, and if you believe in science and all of the good that it can bring to our world, then you should be able to appreciate why new corn varieties are often better performers in the garden than most heirloom varieties. We should also consider that in one sense corn is already genetically modified—through selection over the millennia.

If you have any concerns about GMO corn, then do try growing your own dry corn. Beleive me - nothing tastes like home-grown cornmeal. A 100 sq foot bed supplied us with 5 quarts of cornmeal.

There are a few (very few -like 9%) new GMO sweet corn varieties but you are not going to find any in a seed catalog as one would need to go through an agent and then sign a complex licensing agreement with Monsanto or another developer. You should feel safe buying seed anywhere as no GMO seed is available for home growers at all- so relax. Even though a variety may sound 'sciency' or technical, it's not GMO if you are finding it in a seed catalog. This includes Johnny's Selected Seeds or Burpee.

That said, some GMO sweet corn on-the-ear is showing up in supermarkets, but I imagine that most of this corn is raised in the south for northern markets during the winter. The corn in these cases was bred to have 'stacked genes', bundled if you will so that the variety could be resistant to a pre-emergent herbicide or immune to a fungus. While this typically doesn't bother me, I still wouldn't want my cornfield to be sprayed with glyphosate or Round-up. You see, it's not the genetic engineering that concerns me, it's what they might spray the crop with. That's where I stand with GMO's and until I see some data that proves safety one way or another, I would never buy GMO corn at a market. Yet here's the kicker - I would love to grow GMO corn in my own garden at home - but until they make GMO seed available to home gardeners, this will need to wait. I do appreciate the science of genetic engineering - So-called 'Franken foods' don't scare me at all. I 'get' the science. Breed me a blight-free tomato with the flavor of summer, please. I want that now.

How's this: Instead of worrying about GMO's and labeling, why arent we all demanding to at least know the variety name that we are buying? Wouldnt that solve everything?

There are many varieties of dry, heirloom or ornamental corn available today. Each are so rewarding to grow in the homer garden.

IS THERE SUCH A THING AS WILD CORN?

Corn is a very old crop. One of the oldest man has ever cultivated. We know where corn originated, and it looked nothing like the crop we recognize today. There is no longer any true wild corn ( as is the case with most vegetables that we eat today as all have been selected and cross-bred and selected again by our ancestors - genetically modified, if you will by selection), so while we know that corn is the subject of many Netflix documentaries intended to scare us, science and botanists agree that there is little data to suggest that corn is bad for us.

What gets us into trouble with corn is processed food and how much processed corn products enter our food system. We might all agree to try an avoid corn in our food as an additive, as we try to avoid it in pet food, in cattle food and even in chicken food. What the heck happened to being proud of having been corn fed? Has that gone the way that being 'Milk fed? Probably, but aside from building stong bodies twelve ways, corn can be a part of a balance diet (sic). Come on, what about bourbon or whiskey? How about Cheese doodles or Doritos? We all consume corn but we just justify it in different ways. :)

We all know that corn is botanically considered a grass, and that the corn we know today looks nothing like it's wild ancestors. Like cabbage or cauliflower it was selected from a wild species of maize found in Mexico over centuries of natural and human selection. Like most every vegetable we eat today it too has been essentially genetically modified over time by us makeing selections of our favortie traits, and these are passed on.

According to the National Science Foundation and molecular biologists, the wild ‘corn’ was a branched grass now known to botanists as Balsas teosinte. With its hard seed coat or shell, the idea that we could revert to growing wild corn is unrealistic. Yet corn stands as one of the greatest achievement of mankind, and regardless of your political or environmental position regarding the culture of corn, we as a species probably wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for corn.

This is a variety isnt 'Butter and Sugar' but it is called 'Xtra-Tender 2171- F1 Hybrid grown from organic seed.
It's an SH2 or 'Augmented Shrunken Gene variety. Not GMO, even though it sounds like it. It's worth growing for both flavor and texture in the home garden, not to mention disease resistance to 'Stewart's Wilt' and Leaf Blight.

IS CORN WORTH GROWING AT HOME?

Looking at corn through a different lens, however, from the view of the home owner who might like to raise to fresh or dried corn in the home vegetable garden, does change the perspective a bit. Setting all discussion of GMO’s and high-fructose corn syrup aside, growing corn as a vegetable crop at home is a safe and worthwhile venture. In fact, sweet or dry corn from the home garden can be one of the tastiest and fruitful crops one can grow.

If you are interested is raising corn, however, there are some realities to face. First, corn requires space, and while the minimum square footage isn’t as great as you might imagine (a 10 x 10-foot bed can yield a few meals) to grow corn well and to make it worthwhile, a larger space is more practical.

Growing dry corn for use in corn meal can be a worthwhile pursuit, but It is with sweet corn where the freshness and variety really set aside home-raised corn apart. Before there were super-sweet varieties bred to hold their sugar content longer, sweet corn varieties simply had to be grown at home and brought into the kitchen immediately and cooked. As most gardeners know, old gardening texts often wax on about “having a pot of water boiling before one runs out to the garden to pick the sweet corn’ to maximize its sweetness.

Of course, you still do that, and even the super-sweet varieties will seem sweeter, but then, any vegetable will seem sweeter if picked and prepared immediately. Fresh summer sweet corn is more like a religion, however, especially in North America where some families may eat a few dozen for an evening meal.

HOW TO GROW THE BEST CORN

Corn success begins with the variety you chooses. I am fond of both heirloom heritage corn varieties and new hybrids, but I tend to grow heritage varieties as dried corn as it is supremely delectable compared to any new dried corn. But when it comes to sweet corn, I believe that the newer the variety is, the better it is.

Johnny's Selected Seeds carrys many good varieties of corn for the home grower, but again, the variety names may not attract you to them.

CORN VARIETIES - Naming is everything.

Like fashion, great corn names will never be on the tip of the consumer’s tongue again as there are just too many to choose from. And as such, the names become diluted in a sea of sameness. No one would get excited about growing a crop of ‘Amaize’ or ‘Everprime’. 'SUGAR AND BUTTER' is a great name, it has Madison Avenue written all over it. I mean who wouldnt want something that tasted that good and sweet? Plus, it was pretty.

The days of name recognition the likes of Silver Queen should be gone but they arent. Good names for veggies stick ( and for Fruit, for that matter - don't get me started about the lies that exist with 'Honeycrisp' apples today. "Wait...what?" Briefly - Honeycrisp the variey is loseing it's patent protection so theorhetically any sweet apple could be sold under this name, but I digress) When it comes to corn, few if any of us truly knows the name of any corn variety that we are buying at a farmstand. Even though a few variety names today sound delicious - (‘Kandy Korn’ sounds not all that bad), all corn will probably be marketed simply as ‘Sugar & Butter or 'Butter and Sugar' Corn until a really good descriptive name comes along. That said, this will probably not happen as new corn varieties are being developed every year and honestly, they all rather look the same to the consumer.

So unlike apples or tomatoes where certain variety names can turn virtually overnight into brand names when it comes to sweet corn, we may be stuck with descriptive types with names from the mid-20th century like 'Silver Queen' "Silver King' or 'Butter and Sugar'. My dream of having a farm stand that sells 6 or 8 varieties of corn with the actual name will never become a reality, which is probably a good thing as the business model has flaws, beginning with advertising. No one is ever going to stop the car if they see a sign that says “NATIVE ‘FLAGSHIP II’ CORN, NEXT LEFT,” and they certainly are never going to buy a dozen and a half of the most flavorful corn “HMX5346e”.

The fact is we live in a world which is divided both politically and unfortunately intellectually. If a farm stand offered one table with heirloom 'Silver Queen' ears of corn, and another table stacked high with a Synergistic corn variety like 'Illusion F1 hybrid' or an Augmented Shrunken SH2 variety like or 'Xtra TENDER NUMBER 227'or even 'Mirai'® which is trademarked, you might assume that these are scaryGMO varieties. (In case you are wondering - all of these new varieties which are far superior to old varieties are each available as organic seed and are not GMO). But their names do present a huge marketing challenge for anyone marketing sweet corn to a public that has their antennae up high.

This leaves us, the home grower, to just make the corn choices ourselves as no farm stand, supermarket or even canned or frozen food will list a corn variety on their signage or label unless it was one they are familar with. With so many varieties to choose from, it’s best to try a couple of different varieties and types each year. Even in the small garden, if grown tightly and pollinated properly, a crop of popcorn or heirloom dried corn can be grown with little effort. With the diversity available given the selections in most any seed catalog, why not grow corn? Why limit your corn intake to what the local monoculture farm decides is best to grow?

Now- there are some antique corn varieties from the nineteenth century or even much older that are very superior to new ones, but these are dried corn varieties such as the types known as Dents (the kernels dry with a little dent in them). If you prefer what many describe as ‘a real corny flavor’ in fresh corn, then the old Bantam varieties are for you, at least as a fresh sweet corn. They offer a rich, corn flavor with sugar content that is significantly lower which some foodies prefer when corn is used in a recipe. As fresh eating though (off-the-cob), newer varieties are the best hands down. And iot's not all about sugar or sweetness. Many corn geeks prefer corn that sacrafices super-sweetness for texture - i.e. kernels that pop in the mouth when you bite on the cob.

NAVIGATING SWEET CORN CLASSIFICATIONS

Fair warning, corn classification is very confusing. Dont' beleive me? Go to a Harris Seeds or Johnny's site and see for yourself. These are good sites where you can test your corn savvyness. With sweet corn, the relevant distinctions are about the sugar content and how long the corn holds up on the ear after picking. Then of course, is texture and color.

EMBRACE BOTH NEW AND OLD VARIETIES OF CORN

As I said earlier few realize that most sweet corn varieties had all-white kernels until 1902, when ‘Golden Bantam’ was introduced. It's funny today to hear some people assume that a vegetable is either genetically engineers or a frankenveggie just because it seems odd or different. It's not unusual at all to hear one insist that all-white or red corn, purple or golden cauliflower or even maroon and white carrots are the result of living in a genetically modified world. Actually, it's more like the other way around. Before the 1840's all carrots were purple, red or white with orange being selected by the Dutch in the mid-1800s's. Yellow corn was considered fit only for animals and white corn was preferred for human consumption.

Choosing the best sweet corn for your tastes today isn't easy though. Corn classification is so damn confusing!

Variety names are either organized by genotype or by 'type' and without a chart to follow, few if any of us know the difference between an SE, SH2 or SU let alone an Augmented Shrunken SH2. I mean - who would buy that?

Examples include SU (sugar) and SE (Sugar Enhanced) and SH2 (Augmented Shrunken). Augmented Shrunken, by the way, is just a bad name for a gene that simply shrivels away—clearly, scientists weren’t focused on marketing at that time. The only downside to the SH2 and some SE varieties is that the pollen drift can and will affect the quality of the other - in the same season (unlike squash). All varieties must be separated or the kernels will vary in quality. In the home, garden be sure to space corn crops at leave 60 feet away from each other—remember, corn is wind pollinated.

STILL CONFUSED? TRY GROUPING GENOTYPES TOGETHER

NORMAL CORN

Normal corn means heirloom, or just old-fashioned. ‘Silver Queen’ is a good example. It has one sugar gene (su-1), which will convert to starch quickly after picking. It has a very short shelf life.

SUGAR ENHANCED CORN

Sugar Enhanced (SE) corn was bred from corn varieties with various sugar genes that work along with the su-1 gene above. While these varieties are sweeter (often 25 percent to 100 percent sweeter than normal corn) they also have sugars that will convert to starch over time. Refrigeration near 34 °F will slow down this conversion, but unless the corn was picked on the same day that you picked it, it will begin to decline in sweetness.

SUPERSWEET CORN

Supersweet corn is indeed super-sweet, and has a slower conversion to starch than Sugar Enhanced corn. It’s often crunchier too, which many people prefer. The high-sugar content can last as long as 2 weeks if refrigerated. The downside is that Supersweet varieties are not cold-soil tolerant at all. You must wait until the soil has warmed to above 60°F in summer to plant, as they can be difficult to establish in cool spring weather. As such, supersweet corn is planted in cold climates as a second crop to follow a fast-maturing, early season crop.

SYNERGISTIC CORN

As if Sugar Enhanced and Supersweet weren’t confusing enough, enter Synergistic corn. These varieties are probably what you will find for sale at will find at a roadside farm stand. They are hybrids bred to have a blend of sugar genes. Something like two copies of se genes and one copy of sh2 genes, for example. Just know that Synergistic corn varieties often have tender kernels and high sugar content, but this too alternates from variety to variety. Some feel that the texture of some Synergistic corn varieties are not as crunchy as some Supersweet types, depending again on the variety. Good seed companies that carry many corn varieties will list what classification a corn variety falls under.

MIRAI® CORN

Mirai is a class of super-sweet corn that has been is showing up in many catalogs. You’ll see varieties listed as a Mirai-type, or something like ‘Mirai 315bc’ or ‘Mirai bicolor’. Mirai corn is not genetically modified. It was created by selection. Most gardeners and growers agree that it seems to have the best of all worlds. The flavor of old-fashioned corn (as it shares some genetics with them) and a blend of the various sugar genes listed above all created by careful cross breeding and selection in the field.

As a home gardener, I would choose Mirai and SH2 varieties over all others. NOTE: Mirai corn and some Synergistic corn must be isolated when planted as pollen from SE sugar enhanced and other enhanced sweet corn varieties will affect its sweetness. Plant crops at least 60 feet or more away.

AUGMENTED SHRUNKEN CORN (SH2)

Often you will see Augmented Shrunken Corn represented in varieties like ‘Xtra-Tender 227A’ and in some AAS winners, like ‘American Dream’. The term only refers to how the genetics function and are not anything unsavory. The reason these types are good for home growers is that their flavor and texture is exceptional, but their kernels are too tender for machinery to pick them for shipping, so they are best for home growers. All are highly resistant to blight as well.

ISOLATION REQUIREMENTS

Since many new corn varieties must be isolated to take advantage of their special qualities, there are two groups to know which should be isolated from each other. SU and SE GOUP, which includes Normal sugary corn (SU), Sugar enhanced (SE) and Syntergistic/Mirai. These must be isolated from SH2 Group, which includes Shrunken (SH2) and Augmented Shrunken varieties. Check the seed catalog descriptions and always space these varieties at least 60 feet from each other.

POPCORN, INDIAN CORN and DRIED FIELD CORN

The methods for raising sweet corn are basically the same for dried corn, aside from the obvious fact that the corn must be allowed to dry on the stalk. Most field corn varieties are taller than modern sweetcorn, so be prepared for corn stalks that could reach over 12 feet tall. Popcorn and many ornamental corn varieties such as Indian corn can be short, often with surprisingly small ears.

Pick drying corn once the corn stalks begin to dry and turn light brown. The ears of most varieties can be pulled off in their entirety, and the husks pulled back to reveal the gorgeous kernels underneath. Hang corn ears to dry further, especially if you are planning to crush it for corn flour or use it for popping corn.

HOW TO GROW CORN

Corn crops can be beautiful in the garden, so think about the site, being brave and even sowing corn in the front yard or planting a tidy block of rows near the driveway—I’ve seen incredibly attractive blocks of corn planted in front of posh contemporary homes that look better than hip landscaping.

The site should have rich soil, as corn is a heavy feeder. Aged manure should be turned in or, if you keep chickens, cast the shavings or straw over the bed through the winter and turn that in. If manure cannot be found either in a bag at the nursery or hardware store, commercial fertilizer will do. A 20-20-20 or other high-nitrogen feed is essential. Not just at planting, but also side-dressed through the summer.

Corn can usually be sown in cool soil, but use seed treated with a fungicide if soils are lower than 60°F. Since corn maturity varies by variety, look at the days to maturity and base your plant timing off that. There are many varieties that can be planted in early to mid-summer and still have time to mature even in cold growing climates. Height is a number worth noting as well when ordering corn seed, as some sugar-enhanced (SE) or Supersweet varieties can be very short (3 feet) while some heirlooms can tower over 12 feet. Think about the shade the stalks will cast on other vegetable crops as well.

Corn must be grown on a grid system, as it is wind pollinated. A 1-foot matrix works well in small gardens, with two seeds sown every 1 foot evenly across a bed. The deeper the bed, the better. If raising in rows, make sure that there are at least four rows or more to ensure that pollen can fall until the silks which will appear on the young ears of corn.

More than any soil problem or water, it is poor pollination that causes the most angst among home growers. If you are forced to raise a single row of corn (it can be done), pay attention to the pollen that forms on the tassels at the top of the stalk. You’ll know when it is ready as it will begin to fall off onto the foliage if the stalk is tapped. You will need to pollinate by hand in some cases. Cut off a tassel or two, and use them as a brush or wand, shaking them around and over each ear of corn which will be showing a tassel of green threads. Picture in your head that every strand of silk must find a pollen grain for every kernel of corn to form.

SOME VARIETIES TO CONSIDER

SWEET CORN

‘Illusion’ F1 hyrbid (72 days)—An early synergistic corn with tolerance to cool soils and stromg disease resistance.

‘Mirai®301bc hybrid—The premiere corn in the new class Mirai of sweet corn. Corn that is an SH2-type of corn must not be closer than 60 feet to other varieties especially thsoe that are SU sugary or SE Sugar Enhanced corn as the pollen will affect sweetness.

‘American Dream’ hybrid SH2 2018 AAS winner—fine, sweet bicolor for home gardeners.

‘Honey ‘N Pearl’—hybrid SH2 1988 AAS winner—the original SH2 bicolor that took the corn world by storm.

‘Xtra-Tender 2171’ F1 hybrid (71 days)—A bicolored super sweet varity which is also available as organic seed.

This black pop corn was just beutiful enough to use as table decor last Thanksgiving. I only grew a few long rows but never bothered to dry it properly to pop it well.

DRY CORN

‘Robust 997’ F1 hybrid (112 days)—A large-eared golden popcorn with 8-inch ears.

‘Glass Gem’ open-pollinated (120 days)—Rainbow-colored translucent kernals that look like jewels.

‘Jerry Petersen ‘Blue’ open-pollionated (105 days)—Most black popcorn varieties are small-eared but this one has 8-inch ears. Ornamental as well.

‘Nothstine Dent’ open-pollinated (100 days)—The dent corns are all considered to be the best for cornmeal.

‘Oaxacan Green’ open-pollinated (95 days)—A beautiful green kernel ancient heirloom that makes an incredible cornmeal, Tall stalks to 8 feet.

Planning Your Fall Veg Garden? Here's A Niki Jabbour Book Giveaway!

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Wed, 05 Sep 2018 18:31:00 +0000

Niki Jabbour's newest book Veggie Garden Remix will inspire you to try new varieties and versions of both familiar veggies and even some new ones you may have never heard about.

If you don't know about Niki Jabbour then I don't know where you've been. I first heard of her as 'that girl who was kneeling in the snow in front of her cold frame' as pictured on one of her first books 'The Year-Round Vegetable Garden', but if you don't. live where the snow is as deep as it is in Niki's hometown of Halifax, Nova Scotia, no worries. This isn't one of those regional books. Her work speaks to all gardeners no matter where you garden. She makes gardening feel easy and fun, approachable and achievable. Best of all, she does it all with a smile and an endlessly positive attitude. And then, of course, there is that endless energy thing that many of us wish that we had! I kind of wish I had that tone (or as my editor said to me: "You sound kind of negative here" or "I don't think you should discourage someone by making it look so difficult." You name it. Martha Stewart, Rachael Rae or Julia Child. All can have a different and useful voice on the same topic.

Niki is unique though. Part gardening evangelist, and part teacher (yet without the ruler). She is also part therapist, part coach and a big part evangelist. Her hair is 100% Disney Princess ( I can say that cuz I worked on the doll line!). It's her everyday approach though that wins her many followers over. She is able to realize that we are all students yet we never get bored. She's cheerleadery enough but not cloyingly so .Just when you think that she is all "yay- mouse melons! They're SO cute!!!", she backs it up with "...and I grew these super long snake gourds from seeds (In Nova Scotia mind you!) and will be preparing them in a Syrian dish for my family this evening after I harvest 6 rows of beans that I'll be drying.". Yyyeah. Like that. She's authentic and has 'walked-the-walk'.

Combined, I think this is why she has thousands of followers who are passionate and crazy about everything she says. She's just enough to excite the newbie but toothsome enough for the advanced gardener to discover something they might have not known. Kind of the perfect balance for todays gardening lifestyle.

Win Niki Jabbour's newest book VEGGIE GARDEN REMIX by leaving a comment on this post, below.

If you are the average veggie gardener (raised beds in a back yard) then you must get Niki's books. If you are thinking about growing veggies through the winter, in small hoops or in raised beds, you must get her books. An award-winning author of many books on veg gardening (A GWA trowel winner) , she is also a blogger ,Youtuber, and a columnist (Birds and Blooms, Horticulture magazine).her Instagram feed is lively and informative, and she is always reminding us (me) that we are slacking in the garden (well, at least, me. Did I say that yet?). Yes. Niki makes me feel like a slacker.

It seems that every hour Niki Jabbour is reminding me that I'm not doing enough in the garden or with my produce (but in a nice way!). She's Martha circa 1994 without a staff. Growing cayenne peppers, stringing them into ristra? Then drying them and grinding them into her own ground pepper? I have soooooooo much to catch up on!

Niki's been writing about gardening for years now. And she doesnt seem to stop for anything. Her garden full of raised beds in Nova Scotia inspires her readers which apparently reach much further than Atlantic Canada! Niki career is rocketing high in the gardening world (most recently assigned as columnist for but her latest - Niki Jabnout's Veggie Garden Remix makes me a bit jealous (it's OK for me to say that, because she's a friend and a very good gardener), but 'jealous' because you might know that I just authored my own veg gardening book, but Niki wrote her book a year earlier and beat me to bar on lots of unusual and new veggies to grow.

Follow Niki on Instagram(@nikijabbour) and Fanboy along with me.

Why am I pitching her book then if it competes with mine? Well, I think that it doesn't compete, rather they will complement each other so nicely. I feel completely comfortable in sharing that both of our books probably belong on your bedside table (and not on the proverbial 'shelf' as both will help inspire you in different ways. One introduces you, another explains the history and might show step-by-step photos. We, gardeners, tend to have more than one gardening book on the subject we like best anyway. In fact, some of us have a whole bookcase full! Niki goes into depth on some topics that I don't. and I do the same on other topics.

Classic Niki. "Like Peas? Then Try these unusual varieties.". DId you know that there are snow peas, and then there are purple snow peas and yellow snow peas....(um...'yellow snow' peas?). Well, there are.

But back to Nikki's great book - this is a book you will use, believe me. That cucamelon trend on social media? I kind of think that it wasn't started by a chef or by Dutch food producers who brought the tiny melon-relative back to the Netherlands to try growing commercially in greenhouses, but it probably would never have taken off if it wasn't for social media, and for people who are so active on it like Niki is. Sure 'cucamelon's (or 'mousemelon's' as many call them on social media) look like tiny doll-house sized watermelons, but have I tried growing them yet? Not really.

Sometimes I've just too serious with myself. Well, yes, I tried growing them twice, but my crop failed the first time three years ago, and then, whenever I tried, I just didn't take care of them thinking that they were just a novelty. Now, I think I am missing out! Was just trying them simply because they seemed new or odd? Maybe they are worth working into my routine....what do you think? Novelty or hype? So much yet to learn! Niki's been posting about here cucamelons for about a month now on Instagram - but it's too late for me to try them until next year now. ugh!

The trendy 'cucamelon' is taking gardening blogs (just not this one yet) by storm. Niki has me thinking that maybe I really am missing out on something. This book is a great inspirational book for all levels of vegetable gardeners. There is always something new to try growing.

I never continued trying to grow them, assuming that they just a novelty that maybe isn't worth the effort (much like cape gooseberries, but that's another story, and again, maybe it's just me - but bleh. I can't seem to find a practical use for them in the kitchen.). Cucamelons though need people like Niki to promote them. Maybe they are delicious and worth growing? Anyway, she is continuing to inspire or at least remind me to at least try again.

Niki also introduces us to plenty of very useful 'new' or forgotten crops in her book. Some you will see in my book as well, like Celtuce, or celery lettuce. I've grown it on and off over the years but thought that for some reason - no one else knew about it. That is until I saw it featured in Niki's book.
Celtuce is worth growing, believe me, and I encourage everyone to give it a try. It's terribly popular in China, in fact, I almost forgot about it a few years ago until I saw something called 'stem lettuce' offered in a local Szechuan restaurant near our house. Crispy like a water chestnut, and looking lie slices of Jade, it's easy to grow and easy to cook.

Celtuce, or stem lettuce in a market in Yunnan China this past June. We saw red varieties growing everywhere as it seemed to be the primary crop in most of the fields. This is a thick-stemmed red-leaved variety not available commercially in North America but if enough of us ask for it, maybe it will? Not familiar with it? Get Niki's book to learn more about it.

Niki introduces new gardeners Stem Lettuce in her book, and I was so happy to see it listed that I sent her some seeds that I brought back from Yunnan this June where a red-leaved variety is very popular around the city of Shangri-La. Entire fields of the dark-leaved crop had Derry Watkins (from Special Plants Nursery in the UK) and I so curious that we drove our traveling companions crazy as we yelled to stop the jeeps to see what it was. Later, Derry and I found an agricultural shop that sold seed (all in Chinese) but we were able to find both the red-leaved variety of stem lettuce as well as the thick-stemmed variety so popular in much of the rest of China.

Stem lettuce is really just a type of romaine lettuce. The story of how it arrived in China is long but interesting (in my book, out in December), but it does track back to its early use in Egypt and Rome. The lettuce we all know evolved from varieties that migrated into Europe, and stem lettuce evolved from early varieties that moved into China via the Silk Road. Stem lettuce really isn't new, it's as old as the tombs in Egypt (where it is often carved into as artwork). Sure Chinese immigrants most likely brought it with them into California during the Gold Rush (where it was reported to be grown in back-yard gardens) and some 19th-century seed catalogs listed it as
Asparagus Lettuce' due to the color of the stems, but it never caught on.

Burpee tried to introduce it under the branded name of celtuce (celery and lettuce) in the 1930's, but again, it just didn't become popular - until now. Thank you, Niki and new Chinese immigrants for reminding us that there are veggies still yet to be rediscovered (and there are plenty of others in Niki's book! Asian gourds, bitter melons, unusually cauliflower, purple-podded peas - if you're bored with your garden, get this book.

To enter my giveaway - just leave a comment before 9:00 PM EST this Sunday night, and I will use randomizer software to select a winner which I will announce by Monday morning.

Overcoming Soapy Cilantro, Woody Fennel and Early-Flowering Parsley

noreply@blogger.com (Matt Mattus) — Fri, 24 Aug 2018 18:24:00 +0000

Parsley varieties, such as these seed-raised varieties (from Johnny's) outperform any un-named generic variety bought at a nursery or garden center. It's time to elevate your parsley variety choices. There is much more to parlsey than just 'Flat Leaf Italian' and 'Curly' - which arent even varieties, by the way.

Are you suffering from parsley that keeps bolting in mid-summer? Does cutting this flower stalk off really encourage new growth? Are you finding that the cilantro at the farmers market or super market is just better than any you've grown at home? Are you sensing that your cilantro just always tastes more soapy than store bought? Have you given up on growing fennel bulbs because honestly - they ones you grow are just too tough, small and woody - or they bloom?

You are not alone. All of these plants share some similar (and different) challenges. The plant family Apiaceae (formerlly the umbelliferaceae) or the carrot family is notoriously difficult to master and these are all within this carrot family. Carrots of course have their challenges too, but they are more forgiving of things like temperature and when you sow them, which is where many of us are mislead when it comes to other apiaceae. To top-line any advice here - skip buying your parsley as seedlings or young plants, start them at home and keep them warm until you plant your tomatoes (you'll see why later), and as for notoriously hard-to-grow fennel, sow seed directly into the garden as you would dill - enver transplant, and try growing it later in the season as a fall crop. Celery is honestly the most difficult vegetable to grow well (at least as well as store bought), but you can get close - it just takes some work and lots of fertilizer.

Starting with parsley, if you've noticed like us that your parsley isnt surviving the winter as it once used to, or that it now seems to bolt much sooner, you are like us. We started noticing this a few years ago but just thought that it was something due to drought or heat. I never though that it was something so easy to cure that I could have done it myself. The trick here is to start your own plants at home from seed, and to keep them warm - really. At least until you plant your tomatoes. Today, I dont even grow my parsley in the greenhouse until I know that it stays above 60 degrees, and it along with celery is often the last crop that I set outdoors -but why?

If you cant tell already - I really love parsley, dill and cilantro. If I had to reduce my garden down to just a few raised beds, it would most likely start and end with these herbs because they are something I buy each week in the winter, and sometimes even in the summer -always on the shopping list. We are crazy cooks and it's not uncommon for me to need 4-6 cups of parsley in a recipie at one time, Rows of these herbs here are long, often 10 foot rows which shock those who don't cook, but really - one taboulli recipie or an Persian rice dish can use many cups of fresh herbs.

Fennel is related to parsley, celery and dill but it too is challenging to grow really well. If I had to share one tip, it would be to never transplant seedlings that one might find in the spring for sale. The best fennel comes from seed that is direct-sown in late June, thinned carefully and allowed to mature in late summer and fall.

Cilantro, dill and fennel, along with parsley are all in the family once known as the umbellifers but which now is called Apiaceae, or the carrot family. Biennial (these grow for a year, then bloom in the second year), the family shares some challenges which relate to germination stubborness and an overall intollerance for root disturbance becasue they are tap-rooted plants. Direct sowing is always best as this is how they grow in the wild, and as we know with carrots and parsnips, the roots are rather important. With those where we eat the upper portions of the plant, we rarely think about root disturbance, and while parsley and celery can handle some transplanting when very young seedlings, by the time they are sold as transplants, they should never be torn apart from a container. Unfortunately, growers often sown enitre pinches of parsley seed in a pot today, to make a full-looking container, so it's becomeing harder and harder to find single plants in pots.

Not all garden centers are bad, for many sell very fine plants but it will help you to know what to look for when buying any plant or start when it's an apiaceae plant. Shortcut? Sure.

a. Sow seed directly into the soil of fennel, carrots, cilantro, caraway and dill.
b. Sow them thinly or well-spaced, and simply thin when it emerges - never transplant.
c Know that exposure to cold weather early spells doom for celery and parsley. I know - we think of these as cold tolerant crops, but cold affects these plants in a different way when young. Unless you know your nursery grower well and they can assure you that their young were kept warm until the weather fully warmed (and didnt display them outside along with pansies with snow-flurries happening), then go for the youngest seedlings in individual pots. Avoid larger plants. Very young plants are less likely to bolt from exposure to cold, but I'm talking 1 inch tall seedlings, and that isnt what we often find today in 6 packs and pots.
d. Better yet - start your parsley and celery at home, early in late winter.
e. Grow cilantro from seed, successively sown every few weeks but skip growing it in the hot summer months. Cilantro prefers cooler temps, and will taste soapy if the weather is hot (over 80 degrees). You best crop will come just before frost - really. Oh. And never, ever buy cilantro plants from a garden center, as this is just a waste of money. They won't grow into anything more, and will bloom within a few weeks, thus ending their life cycle. Cilantro has a 30 day life cycle from seed.

I go into the details for all of these crops in my upcomming book Mastering the Art of Vegetable Gardening, but I want to share bits and pieces here to help you this year and in planning next years' garden.

Cilantro Perfection

Cilantro is the easiest to master, but you may not like what you are going to read. Parsley does best not in hot weather but in cool, autumn weather. The good news is now is the time to sow cilantro (most commercial cilantro is grown in northern California and the Pacific Northwest. So, those posts about planting a salsa garden where tomatoes, chili'sand cilantro all grow together? Forget about it.

Cilantro can be grown all summer long if you are prepared to sow seed every two weeks and if you can keep it cool and growing stress free with consistant irrigation and if you can offer it some shade during the hottest weather. It will taste more soapy if grown in temperatures above 80 degrees however. Cilantro sown in September will last until frost however, often becoming better as the weather gets colder. Asfor spring plantings, it germinates poorly in cold soil and it doesnt transplant well. Above all, never, ever buy seedlings of cilantro from a nursery. It's a waste of money and time as they are all too mature and will bloom, go to seed and die within a few weeks. Only buy a pot if you are going to use it in the kitchen within a week, but be wary of nursery sold transplants as they may have been treated with insecticide, growth regulators (drifted over from nearby tomatoes and peppers) or carelessly grown.

Cilantro is grown best with seed that is direct sown, even in containers where it does very well. I reccomend buying a large volume of seed, as cilantro is a quick crop, even quicker if sown in the summer. Plan on sowing it every two weeks in high summer, or every four weeks in cool weather, and pick it before it sets flowers or the flavor will change. If flowers do form, you can save the seeds which are the spice Coriander. Fresh green coriander seeds have their use in the kitchen in pickles or you can use the roots as well in may Asian dishes.

Mastering Parsley

To be totally honest, I sometimes start my parsley from seed and in other years I just buy parsley plants from the garden center. I also really didnt put much thought into what variety I was buying beyond the basics - Flat Leaf Italian or a curly parsley, usually I grew both - just assuming that there were only two types.

It's not that parsley isnt important around here, because it is. We like to cook and we use tons of parsley during the summer and autumn. We even used to dig some plants in the late autumn and brought them into a cool unheated room or under a bench in the greehouse just to extent the season incase the snow became too deep. You see, there was a time when parsley would last through the winter here and usually offer a secondary crop in early spring before new plants could be planted. Lately however, our parsley seems to bolt and go to seed in mid-summer during it's first year, and while it took me a few years to really notice it, I know know why this happens. If this is happening to you, I have some reasons why that might change how you grow parsley, or at the very least - how you buy parsley.

Here's the problem, and it's a rather new one. I don't want to blame big box stores or garden centers at not all of them do this, but this is a real problem and I just cant think of another way to address it. While there are many sins that occcur once plant arrive at a garden center, a common one is this: Parsley is sold too early in the spring, or it sold at too large a size (too mature), as well as parsley that is now sold like many other herbs, in 4 inch pots where many seeds have been sown. I guess with the assumption that a consumer will buy a pot with lots of seedlings (perceived value) beleiveing that it is a larger plant. Any attempt to divide a crowded pot of parsley seedlings is futile. The plants will grow a bit, but like all plants in apiaceae, they will suffer and the stress will most likely cause them to bolt or bloom too early.

The greatest error we can make with seedlings or young plants of certain plants within apiaceae is the size of the seedlings when we transplant it, or when we sow the seed outside (as with fennel, which rarely transplants well).

I won't lie, home raised celery is tough to grow. More often than not it ends up being woody, pithy and bitter, or it just bolts and blooms - it never looks like supermarket celery. The truth is celery has specific requirements which makes it easier to grow in certain parts of the country (Utah, Northern California and Oregon) but great parsley is grown elsewhere on farms. It demands such high fertility and moisture that few home gardeners are comfortable using these levels at home. I skip pesticides but use liquid (blue-water soluable feed weekly) which I am totally OK with because the pesticide levels used commercially are incredibly high (remember - celery is a prime pollinator host plant in the wild.).

What's tricky is what exactly affects flower initiation with these biennials, as it is often a combination of temperarure, night length and root disturbance or stress (no water) that brings on a metabolic response(responses to sugar production and photosyntheses within the cells) that often combine to trigger early blooming. Such flower initiation (or bolting) naturally would just happen in the second summer in their native habitat, but once we break that cycle and sow seeds in greenhouses and them truck them to garden centers in tiny cell containers, all sorts of mxed messages are sent to the plant.

If seedlings are kept too cold in early spring, especially after a plant as reached a specific size or maturity (often measured by the number of leaves it has produced - combined with roots which may have encircled a tiny pot, or a few skipped waterings at the garden center, or an over-eager home gardener tearing apart a pot which might have a few young plants in it in an effor to save every one, and voila - the plant bolts. As far as the plant is concerned, it's summer again and because it's a biennial, it's time to produce seed and die.

Celery, fennel and parsley all share this trait. They are particulary sensative to temperatures in the spring (exposure to temps below 40 degrees) which in the north is typically what hardy cold tolerant seedlings experience if they have been moved from a warm greenhouse too early and brought in a triuck to a garden center who might just display them outdoors. It's an innocent error I guess, but it's become such a common one that I can only assume that it happens because staff at these garden centers just don't know any better. It's not as if they were trained on the specifics of vernalization, all they know is they if plants don't freeze when night temps dip below freezing (like pansies) that they can survive just fine outside.

Exposure to cold weather for parsley, celery and fennel is worse if one finds plants sold outside in larger sizes which is becoming more popular. A 1 gallon or a quart sized pot sold at a big box store will cost more, but as the biennial plant is larger, it most certainly will bloom that coming summer and not survive into the following year. While there is nothing wrong in buying a plant which is clearly more than 6 months old, consumers should be aware of both the benifits as well as the disadvantages.

As for seedlings or smaller transplants, the safest way to avoid bolting during the first year is to be certain that the young plants have been kept in a warm greenhouse until outside temperatures stay above 55 degrees at night. Since many nurseries carry what we usually think of as 'cold tollerant crops' earlier and earlier but not choose to display them outside with the truly cold-tollerant plants like pansies, this bit of knowledge should help.

These are smaller parsley seedlings, which will do much better if you can find them this size. Unfortunately there are more than 6 plants in this pot, and as parsley dislikes transplanting at this stage, look for pots with a single plant in them if you want parsley to last through the winter. At this same store I found both small and large plants, it just depends on how long you expect your plants to live. At least Bonnie Plants had named varieties.

Parsley Growing Tips:
If you are a parsley fan, these tips may help you do even better with parsley.

1. Buy the youngest seedlings that you can find. Smaller is better. Five sets of leaves or larger and you risk inducing flowers after you plant it.

2. Ask the nursery or garden center if they have been kept warm (above 55 degrees at least) in a greenhouse. We all know that parsley is 'cold tollerant' but exposure to cold then extreme heat as one might experience with larger transplants at a nursery, and you risk inducing flowers via false vernalization (the plant thinks that it's experienced a mini-winter).

3. Plant parsley seedlings outside only when night temperatures remain above 55 degrees. If you see them sold along with pansies outside on racks, beware. Remember - if there were flurries that week even though the young plants won't freeze, the damage has been done internally. The same goes for celery and fennel by the way. The challenge here is that celery and parsley must be sown under-glass or indoors very early however, while fennel does best sown directly later in spring or early summer. So there is no way around buying or growing parsley or celery transplants. One cannot direct sow them in most parts of the country.

4. The variety you grow makes a huge difference. We rarely think about something as mundane as parsley varieties but in fact, but there are many varieties of parsley available from seed, so why limit yourself to generic varieties (those tags that just say 'PARSLEY')? And remember, 'Flat-Leaf' and 'Curly' are not varieties. (more on this below).

5. IF buying seedlings look for single plants - not clumps of plants in a pot, which is hard to do nowadays. While parsley transplants well with one pair of leaves, they resist transplants progressively as plants are older. It's all about root disturbance, which is difficult to do as you may know if you've tried to pry apart a 4 inch pot with a few plants in it. Root disturbance too can cause bolting by mid summer.

6. Better yet, start your own parsley seedlings. Perhaps the only way to have total control if you have concerns, but be prepared, parlsey can be a bit tricky to to germinate and seeds will need to be started early in the year - often in late winter. Seed sown around late January will help alieve anxious gardeners who might be eager to start something early indoors as if seems we all keep hearing to hold off on starting most anything else too early, parsley (and celery) fit the bill. Soak seed for a day or two, it's true- for a pre-treat with scalding water before sowing will increase success but seed will germinate without sowing as well, it just may be more irratic. Cover seed with 1/4 of vermiculite and cover tray with plastic wrap or a mini-greenhouse to increase humidity and keep tray near 70 degrees. Once seedlings emerge, you can find a slightly cooler location - 60 to 65 degree's is fine but no lower.

Indoor conditions for both parsley and celery will call for artificial lights (16 hours a day), and LED ones are best. Seedlings will grow slowly, so should not take up much space, but they must be transplanted while still small into individual cells or 3-4 inch pots in which they should remain until the weather outside is warm enought to plant tomatoes. If you live in a milder part of the country (California, Georgia, etc) you can sow seed in autumn or directly outdoors in late winter with little worry of false vernalization, this is a unique problem in colder areas where spring temperature vary and where one must plant parsley starts because the growing season is too short. USDA Zones 7 and lower.

Homegrown fennel needs slightly different conditions than it's kin parsley. Never buy seedlings or start it early in pots if you want to avoid woody, flat or small, bolting plants. Seed direct outside in early to mid summer for ideal bulbs and just thin seedlings, nevrrer transplant them. As with dill and carrots, it's a root-disturbance thing. If grown well, home-raised fennel is infinately more tender, crispy and most of all healthier - really. Fennel uses the highest levels of insecticide of all vegetables when grown as a commerical crop.

As a side note - why bother with all this? Why attempt growing parsley, celery, fennel and other difficult to grow apiaceae (Umbellifer) crops if they are so challenging? Why not just grow tomatoes and zuchinni and buy everything else at the supermarket? Well, consider this. Parlsey, celery, fennel and even carrots use far more insecticides than you might imagine. While we often think of broccoli or cabbage as a high pesticide crop, nothing aside from apples come close to the amount of pesticides used on apiaceae crops.

All of the Apiaceae(umbellifers) are great pollinator host plants. More lepidoptera larvare are attracted to the foliage as well as adults to the blossoms. If you plants bloom, just write off the lot as a polliantor garden.

Why? Think about it...these are the ultimate pollinator crops, right? And while we home growers encourage or at least tollerate a few benificial caterpillars on our parsley and carrots, even a Black Swallowtail Butterfly larvae is the last thing a supermarket or market grower needs to find on their shelves. And few crops attract as many lepidoptera species as do plants within apiaceae. Some list more than 50 species on these host plants. When I insist on buying organic vs conventional (which honestly, isn't all the time) I begin first with organic celery, cilantro and parsley. Hands down.

While at a local mom and pop nursery I found many cell pack with apiaceae crops which frankly should never be sold. These celery seedlings are healthy looking though and are at the perfect size for transplanting. I would just be cautious as they have been displayed outside, this was taken in April. Night temps still dipped into the 30's which will vernalize celery at this stage, inducing early flowering. If these were kept in the hoop house behind, I would have felt better taking a chance. NOTE:The generic label - It just says Celery.

I'm OK with branded vareties as long as the buyer knows what they are getting. These plants were sold along side smaller parsley seedlings and they were properly labeled, but as larger one gallon containers, I might back up my planting with some younger plants as these will mature and bloom by mid-summer. Plan on using these larger plants for only the cool months of spring.

Botanically speaking, parsley regardless of the variety is of the same genus and species - Petroselinum crispum. There are however two subspecies (or more accurately 'groups' or 'types') which we often see used as variety names. Know that 'flat-leaved' and 'curly' are not proper ways to reference parsley, nor are they varieties no matter what the other blogs and cooking sites will tell you. There are two sub-groups relate to these two leaf shapes - Crispus (curly-leaved types), and Neopolitanum (flat-leaved Italian types).

There are dozens of named varieties, most of which fall into these two groups, but often they all offer unique charateristics. Some are best for commerical growers - to dry or to ship long distances, others for flavor or texture, and many just for their looks or performance in small pots at retail nurseries. I would hope that you want the best varieties for flavor or for cooking, and not ones that produce a nice 4 inch pot that fits on a shelf at a big box store or doesnt wilt while being shipped in a waxed box from California - unless of course you like the taste of moldy cardboard in your tabouli.

At this same nursery I found this. Obviously avoid seedlings that have these generic labels (this goes for all veggies). These are low-cost value plant starts grown by a plug grower who doesnt care about variety or success in the garden, not to mention that one cannot divide and transplant carrots. Carrots must be sown direct into the grown and simply thinned.

'Titan' is a unique flat-leaf type of parsley that all the top chefs want from their specialty market grower. We just don't know about it yet. It has smaller, crispier and thicker leaves then any other flat type, and it is sweeter and very tender. So useful, with a nice flavor and thus great in the kitchen. I am addicted to it but you'll have to raise this one from seed.

Here are the Parsley Varieties That Might Change How You Feel About Parsley

There are a surisingly lot of named parsley varieties out there, but few offerend in catalogs for the home growers. Johnny's Selected Seeds seems to offer the most but also try European catalogs or commerical farming sites. Wholesale growers grow quick crops of varieties like 'Decorator', 'Moss Green', Sherwood' and 'Forest Green' -- they are primarily growing parsley for how it ships and looks however, and these are varieties most common in northern California, Texas and Florida where parsley crops are sown three time a year, year round.

Try these instead of just plain 'curly' or 'flat leaved'.

'Darki' is one of the curliest of they new curly parsley's. It's a premium variety much nicer than any other including 'Moss II'. Grown in containers it's practically ornamental, and chopped in salads or dishes, it's un-equalled.

'Darki' - which OK - I admit sounds a bit racist but only you have the complexion of a dark green alien perhaps, as this is a spectacular curley leaved parlsey variety that I first heard about from a chef who asked me if I grew it. It has exceptionally curly leaves which almost look like mounds of green moss. No kidding, but most of all it is tender and curlier than most 'moss' varieties.

'Peione' is a large, Italian Flat-Leaved type with beautiful, large leaves and crispy stems. The plants are large and require a deep root run.

'Peione' - This flat-leaf type is an improved 'Giant of Italy', a selection of flat-leaved parsley which already was popular with chefs and gardener as the plants grow almost as large as small celery plants and seem to last better in mild winters, but 'Peione' goes a step further by adding disease resistance especially powdery mildew which can ruin a crop in the Northeast. I should mention that leaves are of a higher quality. gardeners who cook will want to grow multiple varieties of parsley as each has their use in the kitchen.

'Titan' - While another flat-leaf type, this makes a spectacular container plant as well as a fine culinary variety. Titan as smaller leaves - much smaller than any other flat-leaf type, and I find it to be crispier, or thicker-leaved which makes it perfect for chopping and slicing into dishes. The flavor is almost sweet which makes it a better choice for use as a fresh parsley.

Other varieties include 'Pagoda' grown for it's longer stem, 'Extra Triple Curley Frisca' which like it's name hints at, is extra curly. 'Krousa', a triple-extra-curly variety introduced for home growers, 'Optima', 'Clivi', 'Prezzemolo', 'Laura' and the large leaved Italian varieties which are often sold with elaborate Italian names. Some growers separate the curly varieties into groups based on their curlyness, referring to them as 'garnish vaireites'. They are Double-Curled, Triple-Curled (like 'Paramount') and Multi-Curled or Super-Curled (like 'Lisette').

My point here is why settle for growing a plant that has a label that just says ' Parsley'?