Project 365 - Day 11 // Tomato Legacy

This picture of last year's tomatoes is blurry, but I don't care because they were amazing. They were so good that people were devouring them like mad.

I was quite proud of these because they were so tasty; they actually impressed my parents, which is no easy task considering how well they grow things. For some reason my tomatoes came out much sweeter than theirs last year. This year's tomatoes have a lot to live up to.

To be honest, these tomatoes grew from seeds I saved from grocery store tomatoes, so I'm not sure whether they're genetically modified, but the difference is that these were all allowed to ripen on the vine rather than picked while green and gassed to redness.

Project 365 - Day 7 // Deadly Cute Basil

I had a late start with spring planting this year. Meaning I didn't plant anything, just watched as seeds from last year's fallen tomatoes sprouted up, then died from lack of care. I admit it; having a full-time job does take energy away from being able to garden. Especially when the garden's in an area like mine: outside of my apartment, downstairs in the parking lot, where perils abound.

So, I've taken most of my gardening indoors. This was also necessary since I'm afraid of the seedlings drying out too quickly and dying. 

I've never planted Greek basil before, and I squealed to myself when I saw these sprouts first pop up. The cotyledon leaves are so adorable, like something out of a cartoon. (These aren't the seeds I gathered; these are bought. I thought it'd be nice to have a variety of basil. Those are rolling about my apartment somewhere... my poor roommate.)

Project 365 - Day 4 // Overcrowding Does Reduce Growth

My pot of who-knows-how-many chamomile seedlings is a fine example of overcrowding inhibiting growth. After a year, they were still tiny. The small container probably had something to do with it, too.

I finally re-potted them and one of the plants seems to be taking off a little bit. Once it fluffs up a bit more, I'll post a picture of that, too.

Project 365 - Day 2 // The Pea that Didn't Make It

Ah, Pea, we hardly knew ye.

I neglected this poor, sweet pea plant during our February heat wave. Alas, Los Angeles.

I want to plant another in a pot indoors but I know it's too warm and I'd just be setting myself and the seed up for another heartbreak.

Harvesting Basil Seeds

Plants are amazing. Once the basil flowers dry and turn brown, the little black seeds can be harvested for later.

So rewarding. And basil sproutlings are adorable. These photos are from last year. Now, where did I put those seeds...

All Green Everything

A fun box from my personal CSA a few months ago. Those are the bitter melons that went into the Southeast Asian roomie soup. So pretty.

Garden Update: Parsley Loves Chilly Weather

While the tomato plants were on their last gasps and the basil plant clung on for dear life (and the swiss chard just kept doing its thing), the parsley started to go wild. My previous parsley-growing experiences were far from successful, but maybe that's because I started in the springtime. This photo was taken about a month ago; now it is pretty much a parsley bush. A friend says that parsley pesto is her favorite. I'll have to give it a shot before the parsley goes completely out of control. Wildness!

In other news, I planted about 10 "Packed for 1999" carrot seeds and at least three of them sprouted! Along with some beets and some errant tomato plants. I'll plant sunflower seeds by the end of February so that this year's tomato plants will be able to hang onto their tall stalks. Hopefully the bees do okay so I'll have fewer empty shells this time around. And my friend Claire will have a bigger home-grown sunflower seed bounty to nibble on.

Ups and Downs in the Summer Garden

So far the perils of my urban gardening include cigarette butts, tomato thievery, and now, an automobile accident.

This little fellow could have become a wild, roving vine growing heavy with yellow patty pan squash. But it was not to be. I planted him in an inopportune location, too close to the curb of my little plot, and it was run into repeatedly by cars parking in that spot. I'm disappointed, but I have a seedling growing indoors right now that I will re-plant safely back from the curb once it sprouts a few more leaves. I will have patty pan squash this year, damn it, even if I have the pollinate the blossoms myself! They are so cute. Cute is a high priority in the garden. And on the plate. And in life in general. Okay, maybe it's not a priority, but it's fun.

Aside from the squash casualty, the garden has been doing pretty well. The tomato plant is still growing and fruiting. I took some to my parents and to my aunt. I have to say it felt pretty damn good to be able to bring them something I grew myself after so many years of only talking about what I was trying to grow. And leaving their house with baskets full of their veg-- of course, that still happens. I also got to gift my mom with a wee strawberry. She was impressed with the sweetness of both. So proud, I was.

The strawberry plant is now sending off runners, which is very exciting! Maybe next season I'll have two ripe strawberries at a time.

Yum.

There is a National Sunflower Association

And they taught me how to harvest the seeds from the "Mammoth Sunflower" I grew (I received a great bounty of seeds from my sweet Secret Santa last year, including sunflower). I started this sunflower in a pot so its growth was stunted-- it only got to 4-ish feet tall when this variety can grow to 10-12 feet tall. I can't wait to plant some directly in the ground next season and have a whole army of these things. And then I can throw a harvesting party.

Here's my Sunny. His head got super-droopy in July:

You can see the bald spot where I plucked off sunflower seeds now and then for a taste. Raw sunflower seeds are nice.

 I beheaded him and brushed off all the florets:

 All those tightly packed seeds. Magical.

The sunflower was about nine inches across.

This is what was left of the stalk:

 I found that it was pretty sturdy after pulling it out of the ground, and have since stripped off the leaves and turned it into a support for my tomatoes. After waving it around like a weapon a few times.

 The shucking process took a bit longer than I expected. 

About half of the seeds I collected proved to be empty after a squeeze (I guess the bees were not so busy this spring), but I had a good couple handfuls of the seeds. After cleaning them and soaking them in salt water per the National Sunflower Association's instructions, I dried them. Didn't get a chance to roast them before gifting them to my friend Claire, but she seemed to approve of them as they were.

It was worth the effort of the last few months. Enjoyed a pretty sunflower, then got tasty seeds and a new pole for the still-going tomato plants to hang onto. All good.

Box o' Green // My Parents Are My CSA

I have not shared bounty from my parents or the fate of said bounty in while, but I was inspired to do so again by this most recent haul:

All of it was green. All delicious.

From their garden:

• Bitter melon (wrinkly things in the center)
• Limes
• Long bean
• Leaf lettuce (my dad grows impossibly perfect-for-wrapping heads of this lettuce)
• Asian squash (fat smooth green object in the top right)

From the market:

• Mangos 
• Small watermelon

I always take walks around the yard whenever I go home, examining all the different things blossoming and growing and dying back. Their wild tomato plant is starting to die back. The persimmons and guavas and bananas are green and on their way for a fall harvest, and my dad has many more rows of those sweet lettuces and mustard greens sprouting up along with tons of Thai basil. I'm usually wary of taking too much home since I have a hard time cooking and eating everything, but I have help in the form of Vicky, my Vietnamese-American roommate.

It's awesome having a fellow Southeast Asian for a roommate and have an opportunity to bring a taste of home into our kitchen. There is something really special about cooking things that were so much a part of daily life during childhood and which are now so occasional. 

Coming up this week: bitter melon soup and Asian squash stir-fry. 

Strawberries Home-Grown & Strawberries Farm-toxic

I used to walk past a strawberry farm on my way to middle school, just around the corner from my parents' house. I grew up in Garden Grove, a town in Orange County (but definitely not The OC land), where a Strawberry Festival is held every year.

Despite the strawberry farms I grew up around, I hadn't thought of strawberries as a plant for the garden, at least not until I saw an episode of Jamie At Home focused on them. My friend Mary Rose grew Alpine strawberries in her container garden last year and, a few months ago, gave me a plant that grew from runners. (Man, plants are so magical.)

I planted the little guy in my garden, and after a couple of weeks of hand-wringing that it might die, it began to grow new leaves and send off blossoms. Even though I grew up near strawberry farms, I didn't know that they sent up such pretty little white flowers. I suppose I hadn't paid much attention or thought to pay attention.

Stolen Fruit // Urban Gardening

Today I discovered that someone picked three of the first big, ripe tomatoes I grew.

They've been bright red and looking juicy for a few days, but I was waiting for them to spend some more time on the vine to get the best flavor possible (though this article suggests that's not necessary). When I went down to water the garden this morning, I was surprised to find three of these big ones gone. None of the smaller tomatoes were taken. It was upsetting at first.

I came back up to my apartment and wrote a note that said "Dear Tomato Thief, picking without asking is rude." After taping up the sign and returning to my apartment, I thought about how I've picked fruit without asking before from trees I've come across (though I've never picked vegetables from what I knew was someone's garden), and realized that I wanted to be kinder about the whole situation. I'm not the ten year old kid wielding a baseball bat jealously guarding against neighborhood kids picking from my grandmother's pomegranate trees any more. Or at least I don't want to be.

Yes, it was rude of whoever did it, but I can't know that it wasn't a visitor to one of the apartments, or even just someone in the building who hadn't seen me lovingly tending to the garden and thus didn't think much of it, so I took down the note and replaced it with a sign that says "Please ask before picking" with my name and apartment number, hoping that next time, someone will ask first. I can't be sure that anyone will actually ask, and the fruit is sitting there, ripe for the picking, but I'm hoping that they'll at least think twice before doing it. When friends have asked me before if I'm worried about people messing with the garden or taking fruit, I brushed off the idea and said I wouldn't care too much. Now I know that I do care... but not enough to be angry or frustrated with it. It happened, it's past.

I just Googled "gardening stolen fruit," and the first article listed said this:

Since nothing can be done about it, it is best to let it slide & try not to feel a blind grudge against an unknown invader. And consider. . . maybe that unfortunate felon was just that desperate for something good in their diet.

I'll agree. Grudge-holding is hard, and wearing. I hope the tomatoes were ripe enough, and that they were tasty.

Tobacco & Tomatoes Don't Go Together // Gardening

Remember that episode of The Simpsons where tomatoes are crossed with tobacco plants, creating an addictive, high-inducing fruit? 

In reality, smoking near tomato plants is highly discouraged because of something called tobacco mosaic virus:

Tobacco Mosaic Virus: There are actually several closely related viruses (the tobamoviruses) that cause the wilted, mottled, and underdeveloped fern-like leaves characteristic of the tobacco mosaic virus. All are spread by what are termed mechanical means: something or something that's been in contact with the virus touches an uninfected plant, and voila -- you've got an infected plant. Sanitation is therefore of the utmost importance, starting with never smoking near tomato plants, as tobacco can carry the virus. Infected plants should be destroyed. Back-yard plants purchased from a reliable nursery or grown from certified disease-free seed and handled in a tobacco-free environment by only one or two people, are unlikely to develop this disease. 

Source: here.

I'm not sure whether to really worry about this or not. Well, I really have no choice about it since there are many smokers in my apartment complex, and I don't think I can keep everyone from smoking near my plants, let alone not throw their cigarette butts on the ground (though people are considerate about my garden, which has been mostly butt-free).

What is confounding me, however, is how the rogue tomato plant that grew from a few tomatoes carelessly tossed into the succulents (and promptly forgotten until the yellow blooms were spraying all over the place) seems to be doing so well, setting more fruit than any of my lovingly-tended plants despite practically growing in an ashtray.

Swiss Chard & Radish Greens

Some of the very first bounty from my little parking lot garden were radish and swiss chard greens.

Radish sprouts just beginning to get their first true leaves

I'd never had swiss chard before I volunteered at Community Services Unlimited in 2008. Neelam introduced me to the greens and I fell in love with their earthy flavor and texture. Aaaaand they're wonderfully easy to grow. So you should go buy a packet of seeds, find some dirt, and plant them. Now.

Baby Swiss chard

These are the Ruby Red variety. I have some yellow, pink, and white ones starting as well. 

Both the radish and chard are so easy to grow and grow quite fast.

Becoming The (Grow Your Own!) Grocery Fiend

I started this blog five years ago while I was in college, on a budget, and loved walking every single aisle of the grocery story. Now I'm out of college, still on a budget, still love walking the aisles of grocery stores, and in love with the magic of gardening. So I'm going to document my own growing here, not just my parents' awesome garden. I didn't think to share in this space before because my little experiments often turned out fruitless (literally, har har) and I rarely actually got to eat or use the things I grew.

Because they died.

And while I am sort of guilty about killing probably a dozen different plants over the years, from herbs to tomatoes to squash to lettuce, the magic of watching things grow is just irresistible.

More Snapshots of Where the Grub Comes From

It's been a while since the last time I showed what my parents' backyard looks like. I love strolling through it during my visits and marveling at how they can get everything to grow so damn well. I have my own little 3' x 6' plot going in my apartment building's parking lot, and I would be eversojoyous if  my haphazard gardening technique yields... anything. Okay, to be fair, I've been able to snag a few arugula leaves, my swiss chard is coming along nicely, and a couple of my tomato plants are budding, so I guess I'm doing alright.

But it's nothing compared to my parents' yard:

Papaya!

Mustard greens, I think

I'm Growing an Apple Tree

About a month ago, I ate a baby Gala apple and was surprised to find that the seeds within had germinated. (Due, perhaps, to refrigeration during transport?)

Like my aunt, I couldn't resist planting it. In a tiny, tiny pot.