Tamarillos ripening in the Seagarden

QUESTION from a Garden.Geek.NZ reader:

I wonder if you have any suggestions for ripening windfall tamarillos? We had some extremely strong winds recently here in New Plymouth NZ and so many of our fruit fell to the ground and are still very green. Any suggestions would be appreciated.  —Lyn

Dear Lyn,

And when the rest of mine ripen, I’m looking forward to making these mulled tamarillos!

While the world has been distracted all weekend by the spectacle of England’s royal wedding, I can’t stop thinking about the other royal wedding I learned about this week in the fabulous must-see movie Queen of the Sun: What are the Bees Telling Us.

For sheer entertainment values of sex, violence and drama, the royal wedding of the honeybee far outshines that of the Windsors. First, the emergent virgin queen kills all her rivals, stinging them through their cells. Then she embarks on her glorious marriage flight, mating with 12-15 drones mid-air, and storing their sperm in her spermatheca. A spermatheca! What a brilliant family planning device. Last seen (by me) in the snail.

Once the drone has performed his task of a lifetime, his lifetime ends quickly, as the in-flight mating rips out his penis and abdominal tissues. The queen goes on to lay around 2,000 eggs per day — more than her own bodyweight. Meanwhile, worker bees attend to her every need, feeding her and cleaning up after her. The queen can choose to fertilize the eggs using sperm from her spermatheca as the egg passes through her oviduct. Fertilized eggs become female workers (or queens) and unfertilized eggs become male drones.

Like coverage of the other royal wedding, Queen of the Sun is filled with eccentric characters and beautiful scenery. And though there is a lot of discussion about the troubles facing both monarchal systems, no one questions the relevance of the honeybees. They are in trouble, and we would do well to revere, honor and serve them as we will not last long without them.

Takeaway advice for gardeners who want to support the bees that support them:

1. Plant bee-friendly flowers and flowering herbs in your garden and yard.
2. Cherish your weeds (or at least don’t get all obsessive about removing them), as they can be havens for honeybees.
3. Don’t use chemicals and pesticides to treat your lawn or garden. No. Not even Roundup! Especially not Roundup (or any other brand of glyphosate). I was horrified to attend an organic kitchen gardening course here a couple of years ago where Roundup was used “just around the edges” to keep things tidy. The neonicotinoid class of insectisides has been implicated in colony collapse disorder. Here are the members and their brand names so you can be sure to avoid:
   • Clothianidin: Poncho, Titan, Clutch, Belay, Arena.
   • Imidacloprid: Admire, Advantage, Confidor, Gaucho, Marathon, Merit, Premeir, Provado, Bayer Advanced, Rose Defense, Kohinor, Hachikusan, Premise, Prothor, and Winner.
   • Thiamethoxam: Actara, Crusier, Platinum, Helix, Centric
   • Acetamiprid: Assail, Intruder, Adjust
   • Thiacloprid: Calypso
   • Nitenpyram: Capstar
4. Buy local, raw honey. This is a joy in New Zealand! I am currently loving both J. Friend & Co’s range and Earthbound Honey’s raw organic manuka honey.
5. Bees are thirsty. Put a small basin of fresh water outside your home.
6. Buy local, organic food from a farmer that you know. Choose organic food whenever possible.
7. Learn how to be a beekeeper using sustainable practices. (National Beekeepers’ Association of New Zealand, Wellington Beekeepers Association)
8. Understand that honeybees aren’t out to get you – they’re interested in pollen.
9. Share solutions with others in your community.
10. Let your government — and business— know what you think by both speaking out and supporting bee-friendly bee-friendly people and products.

Marriages of Convenience

Did you know that besides being the date of the Royal Wedding, Friday, April 29, 2011 was also World Immunology Day? Just as the garden is an ecosystem, so is the body. We humans are extremely chimeric — over 10% other species by weight. I celebrated by attending a fascinating presentation at the Malaghan Institute called “A Marriage of Convenience: partnering with microbes for better health.” Joanna Kirman spoke about mycobacteria and cancer. Graham Le Gros explored mycobacteria and asthma and Anne La Flamme gave a tour of our old friends, parasitic worms — currently being used in treatment of multiple sclerosis (and inflammatory bowel disease, among other chronic inflammatory disorders). If this stuff turns you on too, you can listen along and read my notes at right.

Meanwhile, in the Seagarden…

I just enjoyed the first sweet juicy tamarillo (Ted’s Red) of the season and first ever from my own trees. What a treat! The juice tasted almost like pomegranate. I wonder if it’s because they’re planted next to each other and have been sharing trade secrets?

Last week’s extreme winds savaged the wind-protective covers of my vegetable patches and blew all the feijoas right off the trees, regardless of their readiness. I removed the last of the spent tomato plants, harvested the rest of the tomatillos (which are also lovely in fresh raw juice) and planted an assortment of exciting new seedlings, including: cos/romaine lettuce, lolla rossa lettuce, miner’s lettuce, wild arugula, rocket aka arugula, pineapple sage, feverfew and lemongrass. And last but not least, Lhamo, a rescue of a rescue kitteh, is surveying the Seagarden this weekend. Will she stay? It’s looking likely.

Initially I didn’t have high expectations for Tomatillo Grande Verde (Botanical name: Physalis philadelphica, from the Solanaceae family, a.k.a. husktomato, jamberry, ground cherry; tomate de cascara, tomate de fresadilla, tomate milpero, tomate verde, miltomate; sourced from Kings Seeds organic), sown September 10, 2010, since I associated tomatillos with Mexican food, and therefore a sunny, warm climate. But the tomatillo’s been surprising in so many ways, proving itself hardier than all the tomatoes I planted this year and even thriving in the challenging Seagarden environment.

I planted out the seedlings at the same time as the tomatoes (gardeners delight and brandywine) and watched the tomatillo flower profusely with bright yellow blossoms, yet fruit didn’t set until much later. It turns out, they are not self-fertile— you need at least two plants to set fruit. I planted at least 4, but in different places around the garden. Happy to see at least two plants fruiting exuberantly. Thanks, bees!

All types of creatures seem to like tomatillos. I loved seeing all the rigid and mis-shapen parts of the protective husks – visible reactions to threats and predators.

Yet within the husk, the fruits of my most recent harvest all looked entirely untouched. They feel sticky when you peel off the husk, but that rinses right off.

Alas, except for that big shiny one in the middle, I did it wrong. You’re supposed to wait until the fruit bursts through the hull — but not so long that they lose their bright green colour. Luckily, I didn’t pick them all, so I’ll wait until the rest are bursting through. My harvest was on the small and young side, but considering the delicious results of the slow cooked spicy Oaxacan Lamb stew I made with them, using Moreish organic lamb shanks from Urban Harvest and Mark Bittman’s sear it afterwards tip, you wouldn’t know I missed a trick.

Behold, today’s bountiful harvest! Featuring cavolo nero, meyer lemon, parsley, roma tomatoes, jalapeno pepper, hungarian wax pepper, mint and oregano. This purple flowering oregano preceeded me in the seagarden. When I first arrived (and mistook it for marjoram), it established one half of the strawberry patch as its domain. We cut it out entirely, I thought, but tall stroppy strands of pungent leaves and purple petals continue to pop up where it once ruled. Since I’m resigned to never be rid of it, I’m always looking for new ways to use it. Thus, I was excited to discover a recipe featuring fresh oregano, “Greek-Style Lentil Salad” in one of my favorite cookbooks, Madhur Jaffrey’s World Vegetarian.

Where Jaffrey’s salad features green lentils and cucumbers, my version that she inspired features canned lentils and all the vegetables just harvested above. I was a purist about cooking with dried lentils (since they didn’t need pre-soaking) until I read Tim Ferriss’s 4-Hour Body. He’s got a good point that it’s better to eat canned beans than to not eat beans at all because you don’t have time to cook them. Discovering Bioitalia canned beans that come out of the can looking perfect rather than sorry and soggy upped my enthusiasm. And considering the recent run of natural disasters around the world, it’s comforting to see a stock of legumes at the ready each time I open the cupboard.

1 (14oz/398ml) can lentils, drained and rinsed
1 chopped red onion
1/2 c diced tomatoes
1/2 c cavolo nero leaves, torn from stem
1/4 c chopped parsley
2 seeded and diced peppers (I had a jalapeño and Hungarian wax, but use bell pepper or other capsicum too if you have on hand)
2 tbsp chopped fresh oregano
2 tbsp olive oil
1 fresh lemon, juiced
salt and pepper to taste

Toss all ingredients and enjoy!

This was delicious on its own, and it would also welcome feta cheese. It also makes a lovely base for simply grilled fish. Hope you enjoy!

What are your favorite ways to use fresh oregano? If you’ve got any recipes or pointers, I’d love to hear from you in the comments.

Seagarden Pummelvision from emily davidow on Vimeo. A year of the Seagarden in two minutes of video.

Hard to believe it was just one year ago the Seagarden orchard was planted. Especially the magical bean-stalkish tamarillo trees. Almost everything made it through the first year on our extreme coast and quite a few have thrived. Here’s what’s notable in the garden this week, starting with the first ripe tomato. And what a punk fruit it is, with stitches and a hammer and sickle emerging from its ripe red flesh. It was, quite simply, the best tomato I’ve ever tasted, and that’s adjusting for bias because it’s the first one I’ve ever grown from seed to plate. With a name like ‘brandywine’ I thought it would be more explosive on the palette than the palate, but I was happily surprised by the reverse.

purple aubergine flowers

bird of paradise about to open

blueberries, nasturtium & borage

fragrant jasmine

grapevines

momofuku! sweet. ripe. peaches.

tropical lilies come alive!

touring garden w/ mom & sis-in-law

sweet corn

apple growing through wind protection

vertical planters with wind protection

showing mom the vertical planters

tomatoes, aubergines,kale

jasmine tickling buddha's underside

touring the meditation garden

happy birthday orchard!

tall tamarillo tree

casualty of the wind

fig brown turkey

berry patch

 

1. Choose live clams that close when you touch them. (Ideally Cloudy Bay Clams from Yellow Brick Road at City Market in Wellington, NZ. Pictured above, the also wonderful littleneck clams, aka Austrovenus stutchburyi and tuangi, from Southern Clams Ltd.) If you’re not cooking them immediately, keep them in a well-drained container in the fridge — not in a plastic bag or they’ll suffocate. Savour the sound of their gentle sighs as they open up and let it all hang out.

2. Cook up a pot of aromatic and delicious things from the garden in wine like: Crazy by Nature shotberry chardonnay with kaffir lime, scallions, parsley, mint, coriander, cherry tomatoes and Vietnamese mint + olive oil and/or butter, garlic and chile peppers.

3. Rinse, then kiss and thank your sweet little clams as you place them in the boiling broth.

4. Simmer for about 3-5 minutes until they all open. Toss any that don’t open.

5. Have some great bread ready to soak up all the delicious juices. My favorite in Wellington is Simply Paris’s wholemeal, made from just organic rye flour, spring water and salt. Alternately, serve over linguini or spaghetti.

If you try a variation of this, let me know how it turns out. I’d love to learn from your favorite ways to cook with clams too. Wishing you a healthy 2011 abundant with serendipity and delight!

Delighted to see the first tamarillos emerging like jewels from these fast-growing trees. The leaves have been attracting aphids, but they seem responsive to strong sprays of water shooting them off. I’m not sure the occasional chili pepper garlic spray did much more than the water on its own.

I’ve also harvested my first few potatoes out of the strawberry patch. The strawberries, raspberries and blackberries are all still coming through strong. The blueberries are almost ripe, and the myrtus ugni are starting to form visibly behind the flowers. Feijoas are also fattening up even while still in bloom.

The area by the front door has filled up with fragrant star jasmine, which is apparently a seductive scent for cats as well as humans. At least for the the one below, who’s been hanging out on the front step a lot lately. When I approach to say hi, the cat scats. Directly across in the fernery, the nikau palm’s looking healthy, as are the native punga tree ferns.

There are also some mysterious mushrooms in the lettuce. Does anyone recognize these fungi? I appreciate your help in comments!

berry harvest

mystery visitor

the fernery

first potatoes

black cumin

strawberries

arugula & strawberry runners

celery gone to seed

cauliflower roots

mystery mushrooms

more mystery mushrooms

tamarillos

sun shining on sweet corn

vertical gardens

fragrant jasmine

 

Ginger Chinese (Zingiber officinale var. sinensis) This is very similar to the ginger you buy in the shops. It has pungent yellow roots and is fairly easily grown outdoors, in a semi shaded position. Non invasive. A great plant for the vege garden.

Ginger Galangal – Red (Alpinia galanga) Also known as Thai ginger, this pretty plant has aromatic roots that are used extensively in Thai cooking. It will grow well outdoors in NZ in a frost-free spot with adequate moisture and semi-shade. The flowers have a red tinge, hence the name.

Inga Bean (Inga Edulis) A highly ornamental tree with huge bean pods up to 15 cm, containing candyfloss-like edible pulp. Leguminous tree. Ripens June-July. Will bear three years from seed. Beautiful white pohutukawa like flowers in January and February.

Dwarf Date Palm (Phoenix roebellenii) This very attractive small palm has graceful, arching,deep green fronds. In its native Laos it produces small black edible fruits that resemble dates. It may be harder to get it to fruit here, but it will be an attractive addition to any subtropical garden.

Chocolate Gardenia (Atractocarpus fitzalani) Also known as yellow mangosteen, this Australian native has small, highly scented flowers followed by medium-sized sweet orange fruit, that I am told tastes like Nutella. It comes from the more tropical north, but will grow in a warm sheltered situation here. If the conditions are not warm enough, it won’t fruit but will still produce flowers. Not frost tolerant.

Passionfruit Vanilla (Passiflora antioquiensis) A really special passionfruit, the ripe fruit are long with a yellow skin when ripe and a very sweet, rich aromatic pulp. My favourite. The vines have narrow dark green leaves and a reddish stem. Non-invasive. The flowers are being beautiful large tropical looking scarlet flowers growing to 10-12 cm across and with purple blue centres. Flowers appear Spring and Autumn.

dwarf date palm

vanilla passionfruit

chocolate gardenia

inga bean

feathers on berries

honeydew flowers

tomato flowers

tomatoes and kale

not much cuke

feijoas

cauliflower

aubergine flowers

berry picking

 

Summer has truly come alive. The first tomatoes, brandywine, are plumping up on the vine, and everything’s growing in full and lush.

Loving the fire-like blossoms on the native harakeke (phormium). For the last few days, a new drama has unfolded in the meditation garden outside my office: a blackbird smacks down a large stick insect and proceeds to wrestle it into submission. So far, the blackbird has won every match.

The vertical gardens are a delight this season. The strawberries (chandler, elsanta, gaviota) are doing exceptionally well and sending out runners to the tiers below. I’m still enjoying excellent strawberries from the patch that was planted before I arrived on the scene, but I have read that the plants weaken after a few years and succumb to pests and diseases.

Happy I interspersed lettuce with edible violas in the vertical planters – they’re visually delightful, and the flowers are lovely on salads and dishes. Also happy to see the potatoes planted in the bases are thriving. Will the new nutty celery succeed? Time will tell.

first tomatoes

harakeke blossoms

harakeke in bloom

the new drama: blackbird v stick insect

eggplant, tomatoes, kale, celery

lacinato kale

eggplant raises the roof

lettuce and edible violas

nutty celery

strawberry transplants

cucumber plant

cherry tomatoes

vertical gardens

vertical gardens

strawberries and arugula

st. john's wort

English thyme

vertical potatoes

lemon thyme

future caesar salad

pea progress

pizza thyme

this evening's greens

sweet corn

myrtus ugni

Berries galore

goji, raspberry and broad beans

olive blossoms

pea progress

honeydew

pomegranate

tamarillo flowers

espaliered apple

tall tamarillo trees

Vietnamese mint

 

By Monday, five glorious fragaria glowed red and ripe.

Now they’re ripening fast and furiously. But I am not the only creature loving this sweet heart of a fruit…

Enter, the land snail. Enter many snails.

I picked one up and marvelled at the feeling of its cool wet foot undulating on my hand. It outstretched its tentacles all the way to the end of its eyeballs and then gazed into mine. We sat like that for a while, contemplating each other.

According to Carl Jung, the snail represents ourself in dreams, with the hard shell analagous to the conscious and the insides to the subsconscious. But he also claimed that “No man lives within his own psychic sphere like a snail in its shell, separated from everybody else, but is connected with his fellow-men by his unconscious humanity.” I think he was right about the humans, but clearly he never spent much time watching snails. They’re definitely communing in my garden.

What are they doing in there? Well! I’m so glad I asked. A veritable venus in the escargot shell, this well-lubricated gastropod goes through an extensive attraction and courtship dance that can last twenty hours. Most terrestrial snails are hermaphroditic, with an organ system that includes not only a penis and vagina but exciting accessories like love darts and a bursa copulatrix (which I am excited to use in conversation when looking for my “fucking purse”). They can hold onto sperm from multiple partners until it is time to lay eggs, which the snail will place into a hole in the ground when conditions are right.

Snail dreams just got a lot more interesting!

Did you come here looking for a way to get rid of them? I’ve come to adore these amorous mollusca and am letting them enjoy what they like of the strawberries this year. There’s plenty for all of us. But if you can’t bear to share, consider harvesting them along with your organic strawberries instead of poisoning them and other animals on down the chain (including yourself). Silver Trails Snails free range snail farm in Hawkes Bay has some intriguing recipes for l’escargot.

Vivid tales of parasitic wasps eating mummified aphids from the inside out are but a part of this thought-provoking talk on plant protection using insects and the mass production of benevolent bugs.

A real horror story is that more than 90% of fruits and vegetables examined in NZFSA’s Food Residue Surveillance programme have pesticide residues. This method of natural pest control shown by Shimon Steinberg above could be a part of New Zealand’s strategy to reduce pesticide residues in our produce and soil.

Aeonium Schwarzkopf has provided a trio of synchronized swimming coneheads in daisy bathing caps for us to admire. Let us celebrate the combination of plum and chartreuse, wherever we may find it in nature. Where else can you find it in nature? If you can think of anywhere, let me know in comments.

Blueberry bushes blossoming. Some have pink buds, some have white buds. Even the plants that looked too meagre to flourish are budding.

A Clivia Miniata blossom is springing up from the fernery floor. While normally a hardy plant, these were transplanted last year to make way for the tree ferns, and didn’t show much growth afterwards. Happy to see they’re going to make it after all.

A splendid gift orchid is training dormant ones to revive. All 5 of the dormant phalaenopsis orchids have green leafy bases, but two have dead-looking stems, while three have green stems with buds.

Almond is the first orchard tree to bloom, but I see buds developing on the apricot, nectarine, cherry, orange and apple trees too.

Sarracenia purpurea, also known as the purple pitcher plant or the side-saddle flower, shot up a foot-high stem in a week, and proceeded to open its lovely blossom yesterday. Pitcher plants derive their nutrition from insects that find their way into the pitchers, filled with liquid digestive enzymes. Does the fluid smell sweet to the insects? I can’t detect an odor, but spiders seem to know what’s going on. A few enterprising arachnids have spun webs across several pitchers, aspiring to intercept the catch. It’s a micro-jungle in here.

Speaking of fauna, I am pleased to note the presence of many earthworms in the composter and a whole universe of creatures in the vegetable patches. Excited to come across this introduction to New Zealand’s giant springtails (Collembola) and look forward to seeing them in the garden. Also, I’m finding this Guide to New Zealand Soil Invertebrates by Massey helpful for identifying the creatures I run across, as well as those that run across me.

What are your favorite signs of Spring?

I have been experimenting with all different types of kale, cabbage and greens, and they’re almost all good. Young cavolo nero, also known as lacinato kale, Tuscan kale, and dinosaur kale, is my favorite to use, but curly kale, red Russian kale, squire kale and even savoy cabbage leaves work well too. Mustard greens, not so much. But since they’re taking over the garden, we’ll figure out some great things to make with them by next week. (Your favorite mustard green recipe suggestions are very welcome!)

Ingredients:
1 bunch cavolo nero, other kale and/or savoy cabbage leaves
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon sea salt

Directions:

• Wash the leaves and dry them well. To tear or not to tear? I prefer to leave the stems intact — with younger kale, the stems aren’t thick or tough, and they still get crispy and delicious.
• Toss with olive oil and sea salt.
• Preheat an oven to 180° C (350° F).
• Line a baking sheet with parchment paper (optional, but makes for joyfully easy cleanup) and arrange the leaves in a single layer. You may need two baking sheets, depending on leaf size and number.
• Bake until the edges are crisp but not burned, approximately 10 minutes.

Delicious variations:

• toss in some apple cider vinegar with the olive oil and salt.
• add cumin
• add cayenne pepper
• add curry powder
• add finely grated parmesan (or other) cheese

Enjoy them in a glass, on a plate, crumbled on some popcorn, in your mouth…

A while back, I sent out a question via Twitter to see if anyone could identify this plant I was seeing explode all over the neighborhood. I asked everyone I passed on my walks if they knew and still couldn’t find the answer, so I printed out the pictures and took them to a meeting of the Wellington Botanical Society for help. (Thank you BotSoc!) I’m pleased to present you these images of Karo, also known as Pittosporum crassifolium.

Though Karo is naturally coastal, it’s apparently new to find it farther South than Poverty Bay. It seems to be doing very well this year on Wellington’s Eastern peninsula. It certainly sounds like a good match for the conditions. According to Trees for Survival, a site with good resources on New Zealand native plants, it’s an excellent shelter plant that’s extremely resistant to wind, and particularly good near the
coast where salt spray makes it hard for other plants to establish.

In traditional Maori medicine, a gum is extracted from the bark and used by itself or together with that of pūhā (Sonchus species) as a cure for bad breath, sore gums or other ailments of the mouth.

Karo - Pittosporum Crassofolium near Tarakena Bay

How to identify your own mystery plants

Recently I’ve received a few personal plant ID requests I didn’t recognize – this is one area where all of us is definitely better than one of us. Harness the power of crowdsourcing and cognitive surplus by posting your image and question to a forum for identifying specific plants or a regional botanical or gardening group. Here are some active ones that might be helpful:

• Dave’s Garden: Do you have a mystery plant or tree? Post an image (preferred) and/or a detailed description, and your fellow gardeners will help you figure out what it is.
• UBC Botanical Garden and Centre for Plant Research: Plant Identification Forum
• GardenWeb: Name that plant
• GardenGuides.com Plant Identification
• GardenStew ID Forum
• CactiGuide.com for the positive identification of cactus family members
• Plantcare.com Plant Identification Forum
• Aquatic Plant Central Plant ID Forum