Location and Schedule

Nourishing and nurturing our future through a shared teaching garden connecting people to food, heritage and community.

Located at 871 N. Cornell St. (1525 W.) Salt Lake City, Utah, 84116

Open Saturday mornings (Spring & Summer: 8 to 10; Fall 9-11) and Wednesday evenings (April-October 6 to dusk)

Sunday, February 21, 2016

Here We Grow Again


Question Mark. (Spinach on January 22nd.)  

          What Thrives Beneath (Jan. 23rd)

Carrot All for Food?

Treasure Trove.

      
 Grocery Store. February 1st.                 
Inventory Taken. February 16th. 

.We Can Do It...Again! February 19th

 Garlic Press Forward & Upward. February 19th.


Lettuce Be Little. February 20th. 



Sliced Apple. February 20th


My garden and the community garden are ready to face a new season! Spring work begins in March.


Tuesday, September 1, 2015

The Accidental Experiment

A digital irrigation timer screen bamboozled me, and two handy men. Despite consulting the user's manual and a youtube tutorial, we missed a quarter inch difference in the placement of two numbers. The result: five of our eight zones eeked out their existence on rain water and the moisture retention of black plastic mulch for at least 5 weeks through periods of 95+ degrees Fahrenheit. The plants that couldn't hack it died. In other words, we found that under black plastic several plants need very little water: beans, cucumbers, melons, squash, peppers and tomatoes. However, they needed more than what fell from the sky. Zones with no irrigation and no plastic suffered the most, with partly shaded plants (kale, cabbage and strawberries) faring better than those in full sun (winter squash and onions). You may be wondering how this happened. Let's call it partly the phenomenon of social conformity and a bit of benign neglect. I doubted my own observations (dry soil, not hearing water turn on as expected) because the plants were mostly fine and the "experts" showed me several times that the system was working correctly. Then I was out of town for three weeks, in which time it rained often enough for survival of the fittest. Finally, I took matters into my own hands. Chagrin and frustration understate my realization that I had been correct, but had backpedaled my own judgment. Still, I was amazed and grateful for what grew and the zones that had received water according to our plan. The pictured produce all grew in crazy heat with only a modicum of rain.

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Herb Snapshot


I'm a novice when it comes to herbs, but I can't help being a know-it-all. So I'll share some random thoughts on herbs.

  • Rosemary- piney scent; great with garlic and in chicken stew; easy to grow from a start.
  • German chamomile- apple-scented, reminds me of a meadow after rain; dried flowers used in tea; earwigs like it, but it outgrew them.
  • Oregano- mintier than basil; great for Italian sauces and beef stew; easy to grow, but be sure you trim it back (give it a haircut) before it flowers, usually twice each season. It WILL spread.
  • French Tarragon- rich, fresh aroma; great with fish; easy to grow from a start. 
  • Flat Leaf Parsely- spicy carrot smell; enhances soups and sauces; once established will self-reseed.
  • Sage- the smell of southern Wyoming after a rainstorm; great with Thanksgiving dinner; easy to grow.
  • English Thyme- smells like spaghetti; you can always use more of it; fairly hardy perennial.
  • Italian Basil- the fragrance of summer at its peak; fantastic flavor with fresh tomatoes and other Italian sauces, pesto, pizza, etc.; An annual that grows well, once established, but I have yet to join the "I Have More Basil Than I Know What to Do With" Club.
  • Spearmint- invigoratingly fresh smell of summertime by the irrigation ditches; use in mint juleps and as garnish; invasive!
  • Lavender- a scent I once detested but now adore--kind of a cologne smell; I use in sachets and decoration, but the flowers and leaves are edible.
I roasted beets, carrots, zucchini, cherry tomatoes, garlic and onions and included all the above herbs except spearmint. "Wow" is all I can say.

Thursday, July 30, 2015

Seed Saving Made Simple

If you don't already know me, then here's a newsflash: my middle name is "Do It the Hard Way." That said, the following methods for saving seeds cannot possibly be simple. But that's the way I roll.
You will need:
  • dried seeds/pods
  • a colander
  • a bowl that the colander can rest in
  • a hat or bandanna
  • paper bags or envelopes (junk mail envelopes best if you want to feel resourceful)
  • a magic marker
  • a flexible mat, such as a kids' plastic placemat
  • garden gloves
  • a smooth, round stone or similar object
Radishes are among the easiest for seed-saving. First, plant non-hybrid radishes. I personally like German Giant, but I am not a radish fan. They are quick-growing and the seeds are good to have on hand for food security. When radishes are ready to harvest, select 2-3 of the best radishes (you can tell by brushing dirt from the top). Leave these in the ground and they'll bolt into a radish bush. You will soon see flowers, which will form seed pods as they're pollinated. Earwigs munch on the blossoms and pods for a midnight snack, so you may want to hand-pick, use beer/yeast traps and/or form a "doggie cone of shame" on the main stalk of the radish. In the meantime, well-meaning helpers will want to pull out your dreadful "weed." If they do, smile and say "Oh no biggie!" and buy the seeds--that helper just saved you from an hour of easy misery. Reduce watering to encourage seed formation. After 6-8 weeks the pods will dry. They will feel hard and rough like a generic animal cracker. If they are green and squishy, they aren't ready. Harvest whole plant when most pods are dry.
Seed saving is best outdoors in the shade in a place where you don't mind random veggies popping out of the ground en masse. You may want to wear gloves, especially for mustards, arugula, and other brassicas as the pods can be sharp. Place pods in colander on top of bowl (or mash entire bush in) and smash pods. Fully dried seeds will not mush while you pummel the pods. Once all pods are crushed, swirl the contents around with your hand to encourage reluctant seeds into the bowl below. Next is separating the chaff from the seeds. You may want to wear a hat. A very slight breeze can also help. Tip the bowl and gently blow the chaff (fibrous material you don't want). The hat is to keep you from looking like you've developed a clinical case of dandruff when a neighbor drops by unexpectedly. Oh yeah, you'd better close your eyes. Another option is to drop the mixture from about ten inches into the bowl and let the slight breeze help separate. Gently shimmying the bowl also forces the lighter chaff to the top, so you can skim it off. I've wondered if a blender or food processor could do some of this work for me, but I worry the seeds would get thwacked.

In the end, three radishes give me about 100 seeds. Label a paper bag (not plastic unless you're certain the seeds are dry; otherwise, you'll be sad when all your work goes moldy) with date and seed type. Carefully pour seeds into bag. Store in a cool, dry place. In a few months you'll probably be gripped by garden fever and go buy the same seeds. Oh well.


Other non-hybrid plant seeds that can be saved in similarly simple steps: beans, lettuce, broccoli, mustard, bok choy, kale, carrots, parsnips, parsley, cilantro, dill, celery, chard, and beets. Seeds from arugula, bok choy, mustard, lettuce, bok choy, broccoli and dill can be collected in the same season as they're planted. Carrots, beets, parsnips, onions and celery need to winter-over under a layer of leaves. They will form enormous bushes, so just choose one that looks the healthiest that's in a place you don't mind disappearing under 64 cubic feet (4'x4'x4') of biomass. Don't collect from one of these plants if it goes to seed in the first summer-this is an undesirable trait that you don't want to propagate. From the one kale I've collected seeds, I learned that they take two winters, but perhaps it was just an issue of the variety. For parsley, dill and cilantro, I allow a couple plants to drop their seeds and regrow.
Not sure why this fella won't turn landscape...
Parsnip seeds (ready when stems are dry)
Plants that are harder for seed-saving include melons, cucumbers, squash, tomatoes, peppers, eggplants and peas. The problem with peas is weevils. Even if you let 500 pods grow until they're yellow, hard and bloated, in a few weeks, you'll have 400 pea clubhouses with a circular door and  a bagful of zombie weevils. Beans don't have that issue, so let them blimp on the vine, then dry in a paper back or spread in a cardboard produce box. Follow above steps.

Onion flower from last year's onion
The difficulty in melons, squash, cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes and eggplants is cross-pollination. Some folks say there isn't cross-pollination, but most of us don't have 30'x30' garden plots devoted to a single variety of a single kind of vegetable, where plants at the center are more isolated. Of the plants in the difficult category, squash and pumpkins are the most manageable. Some day I'll add a post for that.






Wednesday, July 29, 2015

My Garden Crush

Do you remember your first crush? Mine was in Kindergarten and his name was Mark. My twin sister and I cornered him in the library and kissed him. Nowadays we'd be hauled off to the Principal's Office (or worse) for bullying or sexual harassment. Ah the good old days, when a crush was entirely uncomplicated by technology, social media or politics. I did become slightly more socially savvy and much less demonstrative after the Librarian gave me a little lecture. Then in 1st grade there was Sam, my first and last love interest whose shortness endeared me to him. Next was a boy named Shannon with a cleft palate (I didn't notice--his brown eyes held me transfixed during "heads down" time in 2nd grade). In 3rd grade, a boy named David took it upon himself to quiz all my male classmates on whether they would 'go out' with me (a term I definitely didn't get), and it was a classroom scandal when Kyle revealed that I'd already turned him down. In 4th grade I adored Colin and Jason, and in 5th grade, Bryan. By 6th Grade crushes were more sophisticated with drama, heartbreak and note-passing (for others--I was too shy). They also lasted longer and had more deeply felt consequences. This skimming of my childhood reminiscences brings me to the main features of a crush:
  1. It's a secret (a best friend might know--but this is dangerous in case of blackmail), so if anyone guessed, you'd be deeply embarrassed.
  2. You practically stalk the person, knowing their habits, schedule, likes, dislikes, etc. The hunt is far more interesting than being hunted. The challenge is half the fun.
  3. It's unrequited love: for all the mental and emotional energy you pour in, you get very little in return.
  4. It's not a crush anymore if you graduate from Features 1-3 and either have a real friendship or a real relationship with the person.
So how on earth do I have a Garden Crush? When I'm there I feel nervous excitement, confusion, elation and frustration. When I'm away, the garden filters into my thoughts, even in sleep. I know what the garden is like every season of the year and every part of the day. I find any and all excuses to spend time there. For all this toil and all these emotions, there are benefits (exercise, fresh food, friends). But what brings me supernal joy is when the garden smiles--that moment when the sunshine  makes the flowers glow, a hummingbird hovers in zigzags, and the fragranced air rustles the corn stalks. When you come down to it, the aim of a crush is to be noticed, appreciated. Everything I put in seems to be acknowledged in these moments when the garden comes fully alive.

Now that the secret is out I guess my crush may ripen into a solid, wholesome friendship. Until of course winter hits and we begin the rollercoaster ride all over again. But wait, I forgot the most important feature, the one that involves spectators: there is something hopelessly pitiful about someone else's crush...


Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Pioneer Proud







Whether or not you have "Pioneer Heritage," and whether or not you know much about your ancestors, you can still connect to the past at our annual Pioneer Party. This "Friends of the Garden" event featured homemade pies, pioneering pullets, hand-cranked ice cream, hand-churned butter, hand-crafted spin tops, hand-made clothespin dolls, homemade sourdough bread, fiddle tunes from an 11-year old gardener, Pioneer games, Dutch oven stew with garden fresh veggies and herbs, true Pioneer stories, and planting a patch of Pioneer corn (to mark the first crop planted by Mormon Pioneers in late July of 1847). Are you noticing a theme? Pioneers (among many other groups past and present) had to live by the mantra "will work to eat." Not only that, they worked tirelessly by their own physical efforts to provide for hearth and home. My hard work is a hobby; their hard work was life. In small ways, though, I try to show my Pioneer spirit through this pastime of mine.
 We appreciate our local Smiths grocery store for supplying watermelons and for all of our friends and garden members who supported this event. Although a cameraman from the local news was not on the menu, I am very pleased to see that this event is steadily growing into an annual tradition for our community.
















Friday, July 3, 2015

Patriotic as Potato Salad

What is a Fourth of July barbecue without potato salad? I've had a goal of making red, white and blue potato salad. This year is the beginning of that attempt. Dill, onions, garlic and new potatoes ripened together so I'll give it a try. Even the dill looks like a firework;)