Altered States of Chicken Marsala


I have a recipes for chicken marsala and chicken cacciatore that I often confuse. So what, right. Dinner is a recipe that only resembles its written form, resembling most what I have in the fridge. So here is my chicken marsala/cacciatore, adapted for 2 from what's in the fridge. Original recipes serve 4-6 people

  • Chicken Breast (how much do you got? I only have one, but 4-6 boneless in the original recipe)
  • 2 Red Bell Peppers -sliced (cacciatore -chopped)
  • 1 Large Onion -chopped
  • 1/2 lb. Mushrooms -halved (cacciatore -sliced)
  • 3 Garlic Cloves -pressed or chopped (cacciatore -2 cloves)
  • 1 Lemon
  • 1/4 Cup Chopped Fresh Parsley or 1 TBSP Dry Parsley
  • 1 TBSP Chopped Fresh Basil or 1/4 TSP Dry Basil
  • 1/2 Cup Flour
  • 1/2 Cup Tamari (cacciatore does not call for this)
  • 3/4 Cup Red Wine (that's what I got, but marsala calls for Marsala Wine or 1/2 cup white for cacciatore)
  • 1 14 oz. can whole plum tomatoes or several fresh and skinned (marsala does not call for this)
  • Salt
  • Pepper
  • Olive Oil

Cacciatore and Marsala call for serving over Brown Rice. I have Whole Wheat Rigatoni, so that's what I am going to use. I also have 3 small white eggplants and two really small purple globe eggplants. I'm going to add those to this as well as some fresh chopped tomatoes.

See, I'm just winging it.

Directions:

Cut chicken into cubes and squeeze lemon over them. In a bag or bowl, throw the flour and a tsp of salt. Throw in chicken cubes and coat with flour mixture. Now brown the chicken in a skillet primed with the olive oil. When golden brown, set aside. In the same skillet, add the garlic, the onion, peppers, mushrooms, parsley, and basil (and in my case, the eggplant and tomatoes!). Saute for about 5 minutes. Now add the browned chicken, the tamari and wine. Cover and simmer for about 20 minutes. Make sure to have your pasta water boiling or rice cooker on the move so that your starch is ready for the simmering mixture. When done, salt and pepper to taste. If you please, add the grated cheese of your choice. I'll probably add Pecorino Romano, but then who knows -maybe parmeggiano reggiano.

Bit Rusty



This is my Seaside Goldenrod, Solidago sempervirens, plucked four years ago from the asphalt in Red Hook. At this time every year it more or less succumbs to a bright orange rust or fungus.


The rust makes for an unhealthy looking plant, but it always goes on to flower and returns the next year. The rust shows up in late August/early September, not always to such severity, and often when it is quite dry as it has been of late. Rusts may infect a single species, which explains why it never spreads to nearby asters.


On another note from the same score, my honeysuckle is sputtering along. I do not remember the name of this one, probably because I never talk about it -because it never does well. I bought it from the BBG plant sale when I first planted my front yard and think its a N.A. native. Beautiful flowers and attractive blue-green leaves, but the plant seems to dislike full sun against a wall. It suffers from mildew every year, drops leaves and sporadically develops flowers like those above. Despite this, it sends out new shoots every year, and doesn't succumb to frost until quite late. If it weren't entangled with my New Dawn rose and a clematis, I'd dig it out and find a better home for it.

Church of the Immaculate Tomato

Yes, I am a sinner. My soul besmirched and blighted as my tomato. Pray for us.


The blight as it looks on 'Bella Rosa' -spotted, speckled, and sticky.


The 'Sungold' reaching towards my neighbor's ac unit, desperate for more sun. Its not producing much at all now.


I've watched this one grow up, the survivor in the batch. Favorite spot: in the green beans.


The first 'Black Russian'. Uh, not so black, but good looking. While the least affected by the blight, also the last to produce.


Sliced, perpendicular to the stem. The "black" must refer to the dark recesses. A tasty tomato, but I refuse to judge this variety until I can grow it in a more hospitable situation. I expect to pick just two or three more from the plant before it fully succumbs to the blight and low sun.


Trumpet It Does



Trumpet Vine, Campsis radicans, spotted growing on a dying maple. I never noticed it before, but the other day while waiting on a dryer at the laundromat, I saw through the window this intense scarlet across the intersection. It was afternoon, flowers glowing in the red wavelengths of late day sun. I photographed this the next morning, in the shade of the remaining strong branch of maple.

Trumpet Vine is one of those native non-natives. Its home region is in the southeastern states. It'll grow throughout the Northeast however, and certainly takes well to the heat of NYC. It's aggressive, can strangle other plants, and can take a hacking. This maple was already a goner, so its smothering act is well appreciated on this corner. Plant with yearly hacking in mind!

Hip Snip


This is a rose 'hip' from my Rosa 'New Dawn' climber in a previous year.


The hips haven't turned red-orange yet this year. In an ordinary year, most of my climber's hips turn brown or black and shrivel. I spent a few minutes today pruning these ugly hips off the plant, leaving the healthy green ones to turn red later this autumn.

Ivy League Ignorance



This is the Boston Ivy, Parthenocissus tricuspidata, that climbs up the cementitious shingles of my building. I didn't plant it; it somehow survived years of herbicides used to kill weeds that grew in this spot before I moved in. It grows up this brightly sunlit wall with no help from me.


This is some of that Boston Ivy. The landlord's men pulled it down and left it atop my perennials, still attached to its roots -so really not extinguishing it. I decided, then to cut it out, pulling up what roots I could. It'll come back again next year, it always does.

I like Boston Ivy. It cools the building by shading it, it's more attractive than my building, and it generally does no harm. Yes, I have to control it. I clip it where it grows underneath my perennials, but that's about it. If I owned the building, I would keep my eyes out for stems where I did not want them. 


Now that it's been pulled, the ugly painted brick foundation is not decorated with green leaves.

Landlords and owners of buildings worry that vines will work roots into the building, promoting wood rot or cracking the masonry. But Boston Ivy doesn't root from the vine.


Boston Ivy has little "suction cups" or disks that attach to the surfaces. They do not "root" the way an English Ivy roots into structures -all the roots of Boston Ivy are underground. It is possible that these roots could work their way into your masonry foundation, although they are likely to run along the wall as opposed to working their way through sound masonry. Of course, the question is -do you have a sound foundation?

Others worry that the vines are highways for insects. In fact, that is true for, say, ants. But those ants don't need a vine highway to get to your kitchen sugar or fat. They'll make their way through all the other holes and highways into your apartment. I cannot say I have ever had insects making their way in via vines. I have had ants in my place, but on the north, ivy-less side of the house (the bedroom! Old Halloween costume. Another time).

You might read on the web that the ivies produce an acid at its attachment points, etching the masonry, which slowly deteriorates your building. I cannot verify this claim, although decaying plants can produce humic acid and that could have some, albeit little, impact on your mortar.

The fact is that atmospheric gases, such as carbon dioxide, sulfur dioxide, and nitrogen dioxide, probably weaken masonry structures more than the humic acids derived from plant decay. Carbonic acid, nitric acid, and sulfuric acid are common components of rain water in industrial areas. As these acids accumulate in the wet areas of masonry, they react with the carbonates in the mortar, creating salts which accumulate and crystallize as the water evaporates. The crystallization of these salts creates what is known as spalling -the flaking off of pieces of masonry or stone. Brownstones are made with a type of sandstone and are especially susceptible to spalling.

It seems to me that people who complain that Boston Ivy's grip is so strong that it will pull masonry off buildings are confusing correlation with causation. The day a building owner goes to yank the Boston Ivy off the wall is the day he realizes that his wall is deteriorated, then blames the ivy, not our industrial society.

If you're the type to worry about masonry maintenance, it's just best that you do not plant any ivies on or near your buildings. If you have a wood-sided home, you may want to keep it clear of ivy for the sake of painting and other wood maintenance issues. But, do not plant any large shrubs or trees next to your home either -and we're talking closer than 20 feet. Boston Ivy is an easy target, but a poorly placed tree will send roots into your masonry foundation and shade your woodwork as well as any vine.

If you are a romantic, a plant lover, a greenery-softened home enthusiast, I bet you just may plant Boston Ivy or leave it well alone if it's already growing.


Cortelyou Bounty


I've got it good. If I want to stroll to a Farmer's Market on Saturday, I can walk through Prospect Park. If I want to stroll to a Farmer's Market on Sunday, I can walk through Ditmas Park -a neighborhood, not a park, but may as well be a park with houses. Seven years ago, when I moved to my neighborhood, on the opposite side of Coney Island Avenue from Ditmas, I wasn't aware of these luxuries.


On my walk, someone growing front yard corn.


On the way back, someone growing gobs of Black-eyed Susan, Rudbeckia hirta, cultivar unknown.


This weekend's bounty cost $16.05. Included are 4 orange and 4 red carrots, 1 red onion, 6 blue potatoes, 2 red potatoes, 3 white eggplant, 2 purple globe eggplant, 2 poblano peppers, 1 head of garlic, 2 ears of corn, 2 zucchini, and 1 heirloom tomato. We also got some turkey, cost 2.99lb and comparable to the Fairway turkey I bought a couple of weeks ago.

Is Our Ass Grass?


Gardent Rant has had a series of guest posts this August. Slow time for gardeners and garden writers I suppose. I like this addition, it's refreshing. One guest rant, by Shawna Coronado, was on food-production over grass production. It garnered a lot of comments as would be expected. I've never done this before, but I am dragging my comment over here as a post. Why not?

"I should know better than get into this fray, no doubt easy target for high rant comments.

The home lawn is the product of hundreds of years of aristocratic pastoral idealism emulated by the poor and the middle class. Its an abstraction, easily retired should some other symbolic landscape satisfy our dreams. Historically, "Western" culture has only one alternative, that's the peasant's landscape, a landscape of work and need, farm and potager, medicinal herbs and shit-house flowers.

It is clear to me why you would find resistance amongst ordinary people. Your not only knocking the symbol of their family progress, your asking them to now also build a landscape that symbolizes work and actually requires work. A lawn says no work, it says I've come along way, despite the work that goes into keeping it.

Today we are proposing "natural" landscapes and potagers as an alternative to lawns. Its an interesting dichotomy -almost like Gothic (Romantic) versus Classical. The verdancy of the Gothic versus the desert restraint of the Classical. Isn't it odd how the lawn has become the desert of the northern temperate climate?

And as Lawrence of Arabia said when asked why he liked the desert: "Its clean."

I'd like to add to that, its easily maintained, so much so that sheep could do it. Afterward I can sit on it, lay on it and make love on it. The pastoral ideal is very powerful.

If you are to truly overcome a nation of lawns, your solutions cannot be just words [and gardens]. You must present powerful images that speak of progress, of betterment to the ordinary citizen. Remember that a lawn is not just a water sucking chemical bath. Its much much more than that to a person. Its the cloak of a king, one so big it surrounds his castle."

There it is. I am so curious about our future. What new aesthetic will emerge from these challenges? Paul Shepard advises that we tend to think that our landscape abstractions shape the environment, but the truth is that the environment shapes our abstractions.

The city was built on the work of the plough. Without it, there would be no city. City thinking now portends a future where the work of the plough is physically and functionally merged with city. This may not be entirely new, but the proposed scale of it is. Is it a fantasy of the educated class? Is it a tangential symptom of a secular chiliasm?

The environment is shaping our response to it and our representation of it. The move to local/urban farming is as much about undermining huge corporate farms and their commodity factory orientation as it is about the environment. Where is the political revolution that attends this? Or is it as the old song goes, the revolution will not be televised -or downloaded.

Am I not privy to the goings on? Or is it all a faddish response to feeling out of control of one's well being? I gather that time will tell. In the mean time, I'm considering not growing vegetables next year and I intend to continue to support my regional farmer.


My Name Is Frank And I Am A Blogging Gardener



This is my front yard garden now, September 2nd. Its about to move into Autumn flowering season.

Take a good look at this little slice, maybe four feet long by 30 inches deep. Allow me to list all the plants I have in this one area:

Coreposis (2), Garden Yarrow (2), Field Yarrow (many), Geranium (1), Sedum (2), Alliums (many), Asiatic lily (5), Heuchera (1), Rose (1), Milkweed (1), Gaura (1), Asters (3), Perennial Sunflower (many in a bunch), Chrysanthemum (2 and spreading!), daylily (1), Salvia (1), Purple Coneflower (1), Martagon Lily (1), primrose (many). I think that's it. But of course, there's the spring bulbs like Crocus, Tulips, and Narcissus.


It's not much better over here in the late day shade part. Here we have maybe 7 feet long by 30 inches deep.

Asters (at least 3), Eupatorium (2 spreading masses), Garden Yarrow(2), Fiels Yarrow (many), Russian Sage (2), Sedum (1), Goldenrod (1 bunch), Fern (1), Spirea (1), Aconitum (1), Gaura (1), Lavender (1), Allium (several), Climbing rose (1), Honeysuckle (1), Clematis (1), Pinks (1), Martagon Lily (3), and Boston Ivy which I did not plant plus all the spring bulbs.

Every plant in my garden is vying for space, light, water, nutrients. With so many plants so close, the floral display is great when the plants are healthy. But I'm becoming more and more aware of stress and decline in the garden. I'm seeing more and more the need to pick and choose, to limit the multiplicity for the sake of the growth and health of the entire garden.

Here's the thing: I'm wondering if this overcrowding of the garden is an outward expression of the way I have been living my life. Specifically, have I filled my life with so many activities that none can fully develop, grow into healthy, full accomplishments? Should I pull things to make more room? To be seen, to be seen.

What does your garden tell you about yourself?

Changing of the Season

Its time for the Autumn flower show. Matched only by the late spring show. Its dominated by blue-purple-pink- and yellows with a smattering of scarlet and fuschia.


I pruned my Russian Sage a bit late. So its now just starting to bloom. Bees love it. Beneath the sage is Sedum having its second flush of flowers. Behind the sage its Pink Phlox and Black-eyed Susan.


This is last year's Pineapple Sage, Salvia Elegans. Not only did it survive our cold winter, it's quite healthy, although growing much slower than in warm-winter areas. Its leaves are so wonderfully fragrant, I'm tempted to snip them and use them in tea. I won't though, the soil is not for such things. I'm looking forward to scarlet flowers in a few weeks.


Behind the salvia is Boltonia. It has survived this year's Aster blight (my name) and is flowering nicely. This one always needs support. It's grown through and tyed to a metal chair frame we found on the street.


Behind the Boltonia are Maximilian Sunflowers, grown behind the metal chair frame for support. These guys got the Aster blight early and they are now seeming to overcome it with new green growth. My hypothesis is that the Aster blight is somehow exacerbated by pruning back. I prune them back one or two times to keep their height in check. I do this for all the Asters, including the sunflowers, boltonia, and goldenrod.


This is Aster 'Monch' and it's having its worst year. Weak, blighted, and spindly, it seems like it just won't emerge again next year. Always a reliable show from late July through October, I want to do what I can to bring it back to health. I'm wondering about plants that host diseases and therefore make bad neighbors. I'm also wondering about plants that actively disrupt the growth of neighboring plants. My garden is notoriously crowded.


The solid day of rain we had has helped everything out. Remember, I do not water. Hardy, natives like the Eupatorium were even beginning to look poor. Even the Aconitum (not shown) was wilting. Not anymore -the Aconitum has popped up and the Eupatorium has begun to bloom its cool blue-purple haze.


I pruned out the dwarf spirea's spent June flowers a few weeks ago and it's now in a full re-bloom.


The Orange Butterfly Weed, Asclepias tuberosa, I purchased a few weeks back is now parting with its last flowers.


However, as a milkweed, it's sporting these cool pods.


Grandma's rose is blooming once again, maybe its fifth this season.


The white Phlox, my God, blooming since last year I think!

Blight Me

The tomatoes' late blight charging forward on all the varieties. To be honest, I cannot remember ever planting tomatoes where there was absolutely no August-September leaf blight.


The Milano Plums have been the hardest hit and should succumb soon. These were determinates. I've harvested about 20 from two plants with maybe another 15 to go.


Above and below, Bella Rosa tomatoes. The blight is starting to hit these hard now. I've harvested three of these tomatoes this season.


These slow-to-ripen tomatoes are good slicers and tart.


The next pick, number four.


Sun Gold cherries, waning now due to blight and less sun. Sweet and thick skinned.


A closeup of the Sun Gold leaves and symptoms.


Even the upright citizen, Orange Pixie is starting to see some blight. But, it has its first ripening tomato and several others should come my way before its demise.


Bella Rosa is still putting on new growth and occasional flowers.


Ahh, the green beans. These bush beans keep producing, although less now than the first flush.

I'm thinking about not planting a vegetable garden next year for a variety of reasons. Or maybe just a snack producer, like a cherry in one pot.

The Secret Of My Success

My brother and I recently went on a canoe trip down the Nissequogue River. My mom wanted to see the pictures, so she got on her computer and checked out the blog. When I called her, she told me that my blog was interesting and that I am a good writer because I was able to make a boring subject interesting to her. Of course, she's probably just saying that because I am her son.

In other news...

  • I discovered via site-referrer analytics that this blog was mentioned as a resource at the wee-bottom of an Aug. 13-19th article on detoxing the home in NYC TIMEOUT. See it here.
  • I discovered through the same channel that I am listed on MUG. See it here.
  • My brother recently emailed me that my blog is 5.5 millionth in some website ranking analysis. He lamented his business web-sites are both 6 millionth and 9 millionth. I do not know what this means.
  • Someone commented on a recent nycgarden post -leaving me this:
  • But I do not know what it means either.

Promenade



My first article about the Highline was written in May from a desk in Connecticut -an abstract vision of what it could mean. I think most of what I stated then stands true, but being on the Highline this week has muddied those thoughts with physicality and experience.

Plants

Upon ascending at Ganesvoort St, my first inclination was to survey the plants. Honestly, I barely took my eyes off them, or at least that is my memory of the experience. For any gardener, maybe, it's difficult for the Highline to be anything but about the plants. I still think, in this day, that it takes a lot of confidence to put this kind of planting together. Salute to Mr. Oudolf.


These copper-toned Coneflowers grew on me.


Billowing masses of Aster just before bloom, nicely placed amongst a prominent section of rail.


While Birches were common, I was surprised to find this pine hiding behind them.


For those of us with small gardens, it's pure luxury to indulge in masses of grasses.


Simple beauty.


Look at that, Leadplant.


Polyganum or Persicaria, depending on which side of the bed you woke today.


This plant's common sibling, Smartweed, returns every year to my garden to fill in the blanks.


Ahh, the Pickerelweed I spotted in Maine last week, but still a bit different.



I was glad to see one Sassafras. I think it will be happy to get some afternoon shade.


Crazy Aster, purple then yellow.


Expected to see Quaking Oat Grass. Not expected to see it used in moderation.


I did think there would be more varieties of milkweed. I saw some Orange Butterfly Weed, Asclepias tuberosa. I picked up one of these three weeks ago at Gowanus Nursery in Red Hook.


I really like Cutleaf Sumac, Rhus laciniata.


In fact, there was lots of Sumac. Its nature its to form dense mats. I wonder how this will play out here. Are there barriers underneath?


I almost bought this plant when I was looking for Milkweed. I hesitated. Its a type of Aster.


I love the rich color of this Sedum.


A patch of Heuchera tolerating the dry shade behind the hotel.


Nearby, this leg, complete with banded ankle.


I saw two gardeners on my visit. One was hand picking every fallen leaf on the gravel. The look of the gravel cover is both good and appropriate for the Highline, but the organic debris will spoil its appearance in a few years unless it is meticulously cleaned. How long can they keep this up?


Another gardener was dead-heading some Knautia. I stopped to ask her if she was responsible for dead-heading the whole line. She said no, that there were 8 gardeners and all the plants don't get dead-headed anyway, the grass for instance. I suppose I wasn't wearing my gardener shirt. I then asked her if they will let weeds fill in the blanks. She said in some areas yes, for instance Queen Anne's lace and Ailanthus because they grew here before. I was amazed at the Ailanthus, but to each their own.


Architecture

The whole of the Highline is extremely well put together, having the qualities of a professionally made private garden. Its designers, James Corner Field Operations with architecture firm Diller Scofidio + Renfro and plant designer Piet Oudolf are all at the top of their field.



Never before have I seen such a clever device for keeping pedestrians on path. Sure the willful can step into the plantings, but this uneven surface naturally inclines people to move towards the center. The threat of tripping unglamourously and skinning ones knees while chatting up your friends keeps your feet and eyes coordinated with the path's edge. No idle threat, it actually works, and you will trip if you do not pay attention.


I really like concrete, so I really like the pavers and their raised edges.


Straight runs did not create the opportunity for uneven edges, forcing them to resort to traditional barriers.


There is a new intimacy with small buildings that feels more meaningful than with the large.


A large quantity of people just watching cars zoom to the vanishing point of a framed picture window. Is it like watching a campfire? Are they moved into deep thought by the repetition and linear motion. This space is like an eddy in a river, catching and holding people.


I know this hotel has won prizes, and context is important, but I don't think it would have much going for it were it not for the Highline. Everything about its form that is interesting is built in relationship to the Highline.


An interesting section of rail.

In my prior article about the Highline I suggested the possible feeling of trespass as we walk on the rail line, but this did not come to pass. While the rail was present, it was typically pushed to the side for obvious reasons. In fact, I lost the sense that I was on a train trestle shortly after emerging on deck. The new gray-green timbers under the old steel rail presented a sense of artifice, not adaptive re-use. I wished they had used the old creosote timbers (yes, they smell) or at least stained the new treated timbers a dark color to emulate the old tracks. But in the final analysis, this project is not about history and not so much about elevated train trestles.

Project Runway


At the northern terminus, pedestrian traffic flows. There is only one or two benches to capture passers-by. The northeastern view is a broad expanse looking to 23rd Street's massive London Terrace. The advertising seems to sit in the landscape. The scale of the distant buildings suggest that they sit on the same ground plane as you do.


The foreground is activated by pedestrians similar, oddly, in scale to the advertisement.


Some stop to photograph the Empire State Building (and the advertising).


Point out other architectural points of interest (this is NY after all).


Primarily it is a parade ground, NYC's most fashionable promenade. Most come in groups or couples, taking in the sights, chatting it up. Further down they are snagged by benches, chairs or the eddy where they hang out, talk, drink, and eat. Currently dogs are not allowed, and I saw one couple's wee poodle chased off the line by park security. Yet its only a matter of time for these beasts -even the signage says, "at this time dogs are not allowed." It was a coup to even get this rule put in place. Everyone knows that fashionable parading begs for a cutesy canine. I think, eventually, this will override other concerns.


The kid in all of us, maybe, wants to do this -find the hidden rail and balance beam it.


These tow-headed children put themselves in a position to discover something. I envied that freedom, but stayed pathside. I found few people actually engaging the plants. Most were looking outward or forward. Maybe its the motion of the crowd, the linear path keeps you on the move. Would it have mattered if the planting was rose bushes and lavender to the average Highline visitor? As a plant person, I was more involved with them than the space beyond. Although I was interested in how the two-sided planting softens the experience of the promenade and the world beyond.

There was a moment when I stopped to speak to the gardener dead-heading the Knautia. In all about 1 minute, people started gathering around her and I. Not to say anything or do anything, but as if suddenly they were given some silent permission to discover. Fascinating.


Bottled Up




If this were the first time, I'd be biting my tongue. But its not. In fact, just two weeks ago someone had deposited two bags of bottles and a 12-pack box of beer bottles in the vegetable garden. Why?

These are all recyclables. There are recycling containers in front of every building. Weekly, maybe even daily, there are folks who come by to take these returnables to the redemption center as a way of earning cash (I appreciate these folks), so why not leave these out on the sidewalk for them.

I know, drunk people doing drunken things. But doesn't it seem like more work to deposit bags and boxes behind a fence than to just drop em where you are? Why hide them? Are the owners planning on coming back to pick them up at some future date?

I put these out on the sidewalk and went inside. Shortly after a guy on a bike with trash bags attached to handles swooped in and picked the bottles up. Its that simple when bottles equal money.

Which leads me to supporting the new bottle bill that includes water, juice, and anything else in a bottle. Let's do it.

Ripe N Blight

Tis late August. The full size tomatoes are ripening now. This photo is actually the second harvest. Last week's went to my friendly cat feeder-tomato waterer. The plums are 'Milano', the slicer is 'Bella Rosa' and all are just this side of ripe. The center 'Sungold' cherries have been unloading shirt-basket-full numbers for a month now.


But along with the harvest is the typical late August blight. Yellow dots and shriveling leaves announce its arrival. The hardiest of tomato plants will produce right through it. Last years cherries and Brandywines did. This year the Milanos are most blighted, followed by the Sungold, then the Bella Rosa, the late riser Orange Pixie and finally the Black Russian. All now have the leaf blight in various stages of succumb. Its okay, my 'food security' barely depends on them.


I have been harvesting steady supplies of green beans. About 1 pound every 6 days or so, plus those I snack on while out in the garden. These above were last nights pickings stirred up with some boiled red potatoes, red onions, and a splash of vinegar.

Letters From Maine

No air conditioning and hot weather conspired to send me to Maine for a few days. I took the bus to Boston and hitched a ride with a friend to a lake in Somerset County, Maine. It was still pretty humid up there, especially during the Bill episode, but lovely nonetheless.



White Baneberry, Actaea pachypoda


Also known as Doll's Eyes, the 'bane' tells us not to eat the berries.


The blue berries of Yellow Clintonia (in flower) or Blue Bead, Clintonia borealis.


Obviously an Aster, but what kind? I thought maybe Eurybia divaricata or macropylla.


Distinguishing it are all purple flowers above the white ray, slender leaves, and one-foot tall.


I think the stems of Jewelweed, Impatiens capensis, glow in Maine yet elsewhere maybe not.


Speaking of Impatiens, artist and friend Shawn built this woodland garden this summer near his cabin. The tower in back is made of wine corks, most of the garden of impatiens.


Epiphytic-like mosses and lichens cover this spruce tree on the lake. Click on it for greater detail.


The trunk of the spruce above.


A 7-year old clear cut. Remaining Hemlocks keep new growth from occurring under their canopy. Much of the new growth is Aspen, also known locally as Popple.


Cow-grazed fields are full of Goldenrod because cows won't eat it, enabling its spread and giving it a bad name. Add to this that many people still think Goldenrod is allergy-causing Ragweed, and let the hating begin.


Lawn webs in morning with dew.


A more permanent web on the Haircap Moss. See the spider in the funnel hole under the hemlock seedling?


A foggy morning on the lake.


Elegant, no?


Another angle.

As far as I can tell, this is Pickerelweed, Pontederia cordata. Pickerelweed seems to have varying characteristics. Maybe someone out there can ID this more effectively.





Fresh Green Bean and Red Onion Potato Salad





This was a favorite growing up. Still is. You can eat it warm or cold.

  • Fresh Green Beans
  • Red Onion
  • Red Potatoes (or other waxy type)
  • Red Wine Vinegar (or your preference)
  • Olive Oil
  • Salt & Pepper
  • bacon optional

-Boil Potatoes in salted water, drain.
-Saute Red Onions and Green Beans for a few minutes until semi-soft
-Mix together and add olive oil and vinegar to taste.
-Add salt and pepper to taste.

You really can't mess this up unless you dump tons of vinegar in. I like to add a little at a time until its just right. Eat hot or cold. With bacon or not.


Shelly's Berry Crisp with Port Sauce

Yesterday I made a simple dessert for friends with ingredients on hand, plus fresh berries.

6 cups of fresh berries (I used strawberries and blueberries)
1/4 cup sugar, 1/4 cup flour, dash of cinnamon
mix above together in large bowl and put in greased pie plate

Topping:
1 cup rolled oats
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup butter chilled cut into small pieces
dash of salt

Mix above ingredients together with pastry knife until a crumb texture is formed. Pour on top of berries and bake for one hour until bubbly at 350.

If your pie is very full, put foil underneath it to save your oven from the spill over.

While pie is cooking, make port sauce. 2 cups port, 2 tablespoons sugar simmer until it is thick (approx 20 min) then chill.

Serve pie with port sauce drizzled on top. I also added a scoop of vanilla ice cream. A nice summer evening dessert.