Ms. Potter, How Does Your Garden Grow?

I grew up loving Peter Rabbit. My mom read it to me when I was young, and I thoroughly enjoy sharing it with my kids now. I have decided, however, that Beatrix Potter must not have grown a garden. Here's the reasoning behind my hypothesis:

We have voles.

 

Okay, so a vole isn't quite the same as a snuggly little bunny, but it wreaks havoc on a garden just the same. I have recently developed an unexpected sympathy with Mr. McGregor, the maligned farmer who turned poor Peter's father into rabbit pie. The scene below has been comically recreated by Jeremy and me as we wage war upon these creatures. Just replace the rake with a shovel, and you've got the general idea.

"Stop, thief!"

Are we heartless animal haters? I like to think not. But if you could see all the nibbles in my potatoes and carrots and tomatoes and squash we have so carefully tended and urged to grow, you would understand my vengeance. Just like I now understand the villainous Mr. McGregor and am quite certain that Ms. Potter a garden did not grow.

Iron Chef

Look out, Bobby Flay. I've got an up-and-coming food network star on my hands.

While I was getting dinner ready this evening, Marissa was moping around the kitchen. She was bored and hungry, so I decided to put her to work.

Me: "Go pick some radishes."

[Yes, we planted radishes, more as an experiment than because we like to eat them. Actually, it's because Morgan went with me to the farm store and picked them out, and I thought, eh, why not?! A bit unfortunately, they grew nicely and have become rather prolific.]

Marissa: "What are we going to do with them?"

Me: "I don't know. Whatever you want."

Little did I know what we were in for. I suggested cutting smiley faces into them and told her that Grandma knows how to make radish roses. Well, that was not sufficiently creative. Here's what she did instead.

Step 1: Hollow out the center of the radish and chop up the meat.

Step 2: Fill the radish with honey and stuff with chopped pieces.

Step 3: Sprinkle with parsley. ["It needs something green and pretty."]

Step 4: Wrap with a strip of ham.

Now, I was admittedly dubious and tried one out of obligation. But, honestly, it wasn't bad at all. Jeremy said, "That made radishes edible."

So, like I said: Look out, Bobby. Iron Chef Marissa is on her way! I can't wait to see what she'll come up with for our other garden experiments. We've got sunburst squash, sweet banana peppers, tomatillos, and white pumpkins all growing this very moment. Oh, goody!

Food Edition -- Puree of Carrot Soup

I love my garden. I don't have a particularly green thumb, and most of the productivity I see is more of a happy accident than the result of any knowledge or skill. This being said, I felt pleased as punch a few weeks ago when Jeremy set out to clean out the garden and discovered a bounty of wintering carrots. He summoned the kids and put them to work gathering two garbage sacks worth of the orange veggie.

The next order of business was to decide what to do with so many carrots arriving all at once. I decided I had to make a batch of carrot soup. Once I got scrubbing and peeling and chopping [and scrubbing and peeling and chopping], I figured I might as well double the batch while I was at it. Doubling soon turned to tripling and finally quadrupling. Since my biggest deterrent in ever making this strangely addicting soup is the preparation part, I thought I could make the base and then put the extra batches in the freezer.

Let me just say that I struggle with sticking to repetitive actions [like chopping vegetables or packaging candy for The Peppermint Place]. I get bored and weary and irritable pretty quickly. But my desire for self-sufficiency and for a taste of this, my favorite soup, overcame my hatred of menial tasks, and I persevered. A few hours and several semi-permanently orange-stained fingernails later, I had 12 cups of finely chopped carrots ready to simmer. The first batch declared by Morgan to be "de-wicious," now I anticipate savoring this satisfying concoction a few more times before the next season of carrots arrives.

Puree of Carrot Soup

2 Tbsp. butter
3 c. finely chopped carrots
1 qt. chicken broth [I'm a fan of Better Than Bouillon from Costco in lieu of bouillon cubes]
2/3 c. chopped onion
2 Tbsp. uncooked rice
1/2 tsp. salt
1/8 tsp. pepper
1/2 c. light cream, evaporated milk, or half-and-half

Melt butter in large saucepan. Add onions and cook until soft. Add carrots, chicken broth, rice and seasonings. Simmer, uncovered, for 30 minutes. Puree soup in blender. Return to saucepan and add cream. Heat just to boiling. Makes 5 cups. [Recipe courtesy of my friend, Meri Ann.]