Showing posts with label seasonal produce. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seasonal produce. Show all posts

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Garlic Scapes: Eat Them Now to Reduce Foreign Food Dependence--and Because They Are Delicious

Garlic scapes appear in gardens and farmers markets in mid-June. These curling, prehistoric looking false flower heads of the hardneck garlic rarely appear in supermarkets, but for garlic growers and folks lucky enough to live near garlic growers, scapes are an exciting marker of the harvest season. I look forward to my scapes all year with as much enthusiasm as I look forward to strawberries, sweet corn or pumpkins.

Garlic grows by cloning. In September, garlic growers plant individual cloves from their best garlic heads harvested earlier in the summer. The garlic heads that grow from each of those cloves are genetically identical replications of the heads that they came from. All the garlic grown is effectively one huge organism that keeps replicating over time, with subtle local variations in flavor or color. Despite the enticing photos on pages of catalogs offering countless garlic varieties, the best garlic to grow is that kind that already grows well in your area, so buy your garlic for planting locally, from someone else who has been doing it successfully. Just look for organically grown heads that haven't been treated with a sprouting inhibitor.

Cut when they are tender, around the time they make one single loop, garlic scapes can be used like garlic in any recipe from pesto to soup. Chopped fine and mixed with olive oil, scapes make a fabulous spread for bread. stirred into non-fat yoghurt that has been drained to leave a thick farm cheese, with just a pinch of sea salt and black pepper, along with whatever other fresh herbs you care to add, makes a delicious non-fat dip for veggies or pita chips.

Left on the plant, scapes become woody, and sap energy and volume from the garlic bulb below the soil. Eventually the false flower opens into tiny bulbils. These can also be grown into garlic, but it takes a minimum of two years to do so. You plant the garlic bulbils and grow them into single cloves one year,  then plant those cloves the next year to let them develop into heads of garlic.

Garlic is rich in vitamins, minerals and antioxidants and is touted for near-magical healing powers due to its antibiotic effect. Garlic heads store well hung in a mesh bag in a warm dry place. Garlic can be dried and ground into garlic powder, or peeled and chopped and placed in a jar covered with olive oil and stashed in the refrigerator for easy use in winter recipes. 

Growing your own garlic allows you to reap two fully harvests from the same plant--the scapes in June, the garlic heads in August. It's easy to grow a full years supply of garlic for a family of four garlic-lovers, plus enough garlic to replant in the fall for next year's crop, in a single 4' by 8' raised bed. Garlic plants are incredibly dramatic, almost tropical, and can be grown attractively mixed in with flower beds or landscaping. On a balcony garden, garlic can be grown as single plants in the center of a 5 gallon bucket, surrounded by greens like chard, spinach and lettuce. Even a windowbox can support a few garlic plants as a backdrop for summer flowers; when you harvest the garlic midsummer, substitute in your fall mum plants.

More and more garlic in American supermarkets is being imported from China. This humble, delicious and powerful bulb that can easily be grown in all climate and hardiness zones all across North America, that takes up little garden space and is even suitable to container gardening, is getting loaded onto container ships and, at the cost of vast quantities of petroleum, shipped half way around the world to wind up on American plates.  I urge everyone to plant some garlic for themselves this fall, improving our food security by reducing our dependency on foreign food imports. If that's not practical for you, go buy some garlic scapes at your local farmers market now to help support your local garlic growers.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Local Foods: Rhubarb

Rhubarb, or Rheum rhaponticum, is a perennial plant native to the mountainous regions of China and Tibet. Althought rhubarb will grow in many temperate areas of the world, a fondness for rhubarb seems to be focused in a few small localized regions including England, Sweden, New England and the Great Lakes area. I'd never heard of strawberry-rhubarb pie until I moved to Vermont. Now I can't comprehend missing out on this fabulous vegetable.

Localized food choices are an integral part of our web of food culture, and are an important counterpoint to the increasingly uniform and lowest-common-denominator fast-food-chain and agribiz-supermarket-produce phenomenon. Enjoying locally-favored food species and varieties entertains your taste buds, expands your life experiences, and helps you to bond on a deep yet subtle cultural level with the surrounding community. Sharing rhubarb plant divisions, bringing rhubarb to elder friends who no longer garden, and savoring that rhubarb pie every year on father's day weekend, is part of what defines our local culture here as Vermonters. Where ever you live, your own local food culture, including locally grown or developed plant species and varieties, is just as important.

It may be that one of the attractions of rhubarb is its early-season appearance. It's huge, burdock-like leaves emerge about the same time as asparagus, and in fertile soil it quickly grows to elephantine proportions. Rhubarb is a heavy feeder, so dig a deep hole and fill it with manure and compost before starting a new plant. If your rhubarb likes its surroundings, it will need to be divided every 3 or 4 years, which gives you an opportunity to renew soil fertility with a fresh batch of compost.

Gardeners in some less stalwart communities may have an aversion to growing rhubarb because it's actually poisonous. Well, the leaves are considered poisonous, in that they have a high oxalic acid content. It's the crisp, red celery-like stalks that are eaten raw, stewed, baked into pies and muffins, canned in jam and jelly, and just about anywhere else you can throw it if you happen to be a rhubarb fan. Cut each stalk near its base, being careful not to cut into other adjacent stalks. Cut away the leaf at the end of the stalk, and either let it lie to help mulch in your rhubarb plant, or throw it in the compost pile. When the white fluffy flowers appear in early June, on stalks that will soon reach 6 feet high, I cut off the first few flowers to try to delay the end of the season. The common wisdom is that once those flowers escape you, usually by mid- to late- July, the stalks go bitter and should not be cut.

I'm rather crazy about rhubarb. I love its appearance, and grow it in the front flower bed as an edible ornamental. My favorite way to eat it is raw, with a light sprinkle of sea salt. On larger stalks, I peel off the stringy skin, but on smaller stalks I just eat that too. The sharp tang of the rhubarb stalk with the bite of salt is like a real-life version of those horrific sour gummy candy things that kids adore, except without the artificial neon color and chemical ingredients. Granted, this is not for the faint of heart or those with an aversion to aggressively-flavored foods.

For the gentler spirits, Victoria sauce is rhubarb, chopped and stewed with brown sugar, with optional raisins and honey, cooked until it is just the right texture to pour over ice cream, pudding or angel food cake. Rhubarb also subs in well for tart apples in pie and crisp recipes.

A local favorite in my neck of the woods is Rhubarb Punch. Rhubarb Punch has been something to look forward to every year at our January pot luck supper at my local spinning guild, courtesy of fellow guild member Christine Rising Turner. I've finally asked her for her recipe, which she's generously shared:

Rhubarb Punch

When rhubarb is in season, cut 1.5 pounds of stalks--about 6 to 8 1" wide stalks, 18" long. Cut these into 4-6" pieces and stick them straight in the freezer.

To make rhubarb juice, remove a bag of the stalks from the freezer, empty the contents of the bag into a saucepan and add 1 quart of water. 2/3 cup sugar, and a pinch of salt. Heat on medium until the rhubarb has stewed down to mush. Strain the juice through a fine sieve or cheesecloth to remove the stringy bits.

To turn one batch of juice into punch, add a 1/2 cup orange juice, 2T lemon juice, another pinch of salt, and 1 1-liter bottle of seltzer or ginger ale.

Fresh lemon slices make it even more festive, or during strawberry season, mash some strawberries with a sprinkle of sugar and pack it into ice cube trays and freeze it, then remove the cubes and store them in the freezer in a Zip-lock bag. Throw a handful of these into your rhubarb punch around New Year's as a reminder that you're half way back to rhubarb season once again.