I planted the new baby kale seedlings in the same patch as the hoary old grandpa kale stalks. This is not following principles of crop rotation, but I did it anyway. I liked the idea of sheltering the babies amongst the elders that are starting to grow new shoots from their stems.
The dazzling blue lacinato is looking especially dazzling. No flea beetle damage yet. I may need to put these under row cover. Flea beetles can kill them when they are young and tender. Last few years, some of my kale survived the spring onslaught and grew well into the summer and fall, and even survived until the following spring (as the two stalks above).
I posted on social media about having extra squash at the end of the year and requested recipes to use up squash. Eleanor sent one that was perfect. The recipe called for butternut squash, but I used a small butternut and a small red kuri. We polished this off in one meal – no leftovers, unfortunately. The kale came from the hoophouse, where it is growing like a champ.
Here’s the recipe. I didn’t use oil and the squash roasted just fine. I also didn’t have the fancy additions, so I just added some currants. The amounts for the dressing make quite a lot, so I mostly halved it.
Butternut Squash Quinoa Salad with Kale and Cider Dijon Dressing
Ingredients: FOR THE SQUASH: 4 cups cubed butternut squash (1/2 inch pieces) 1 tablespoon olive oil 1 tablespoon dark brown sugar 1 teaspoon smoked paprika 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt 3/4 teaspoon ground coriander 3/4 teaspoon cumin 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper 1/8 teaspoon nutmeg 1/8 teaspoon cayenne FOR THE SALAD DRESSING: 1 tablespoon whole grain Dijon mustard 2 tablespoons honey 1/4 cup cider vinegar 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice (strained to catch the seeds) 2 tablespoons white wine vinegar 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper 1/2 cup olive oil FOR THE SALAD: 1 bunch lacinato kale, stripped off stems, rinsed and patted dry 4 cups cooked quinoa (1 cup dry) 1/3 cup roasted pumpkin (pepita) seeds 1/4 cup dried cranberries 1/4 cup golden raisins Salt and pepper to taste
Directions: Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. Toss the cubed butternut squash in the oil, sugar, paprika, salt, coriander, cumin, black pepper, nutmeg and cayenne. Spread out evenly onto a rimmed sheet pan and bake for 20 minutes. No need to toss, just rotate the pan halfway through. Meanwhile make the dressing. In a glass jar combine the mustard, honey, vinegars, lemon juice, salt and pepper. Add in the oil, secure the lid and shake well. In a large salad bowl add the chopped kale, cooked (warm) quinoa, roasted butternut squash, pepitas, dried cranberries and raisins. Season with a pinch or two of kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper. Drizzle with 1/4 cup of the dressing or more to taste. Serve warm.
The row with the trommel at its head used to contain the legumes – peas and fava beans – which have been moved toward the house one row. For some reason, a lot of grass invaded the bed around the edges and it had to be removed. Sam hooked up the solar-powered trommel to regain the soil from the clods of grass. He’s sweeping dust off the solar panel to get it to function well.
It’s not exactly no-till gardening, but it is satisfying to look at the nicely prepared bed.
I haven’t been at camp very often, but work continues. Sam has hooked up the water – see black pipe heading for camp from the lake. The camp looks majestic next to its neighbors. No leaves yet, but the trees are budding out. Black flies expected by Mother’s Day if not sooner.
I needed to get the broccoli seedlings out of the tray and into the ground. For one thing, white thready roots were coming out of the bottom of the blocks. For another, I needed the fine mesh tray for my little tomato blocks. Apparently I have only one fine-mesh tray.
So today was devoted to getting these guys planted.
First, Sam dug the bed, removing the biggest rocks and roots. We added some compost, greensand, and azomite and raked it smooth.
I planted about 40 seedlings down each side of the row. They are a little close together but not bad. I watered them in with a splash of Sam’s special alfalfa tea.
Then I had to set up the wires and the row cover. I used wooden stakes laid along the edges on one side, and heavy metal fence posts down the other. Plus some rocks. This is reused row cover, with one big hole which needed a supplemental piece.
I’m expecting this broccoli to do as well as it did last year, but we’ll see. Feeling optimistic!
An exciting day at Cross Road Gardens. It really felt like spring, for the first time, I think. A burst of gardening energy, although I only really worked for a few hours.
If you were starting new food traditions, what should be served on Easter? Lamb and ham are totally out, as vegans. And in a pandemic, not sure an extra trip to the store is warranted. I should be trying to eat what I grow, right? So one of these four beautiful squash is headed for the chopping block. And this should be the same every year.
I chose the largest Red Kuri for our Easter meal. We also had an arugula salad, a sort of dip made from frozen peas and fava beans, and a chocolate freezer pie (with squash as a prime ingredient). Felt very virtuous – and tasty actually. Jeff came over for a small dinner party.
Sam is stuffing the pre-roasted Red Kuri with a mixture of quinoa, shiitake mushrooms, dried cranberries, chopped walnuts, and flavorings.
This is an adventure that seems to happen regularly around this time. I get tired of looking at a pile or a rope of dried hot red peppers and at the same time we are running low on cayenne pepper. Out comes the spice grinder and the ordeal begins.
It starts innocently enough, cutting off the little heads of the peppers and slicing them in half. Discarding the questionable ones. Removing the seeds to the compost bucket. Putting the little husky skin with dried pulp into the spice grinder. I never have rubber gloves available, so I always just forge ahead, thinking how bad could it be?
But as soon as the grinding starts, weird symptoms appear. Uncontrollable ticklings in the back of the throat. Sneezing fits. Runny noses. Inability to get away from the miasma. No, not the flu, cayenne grinding.
After I’m done grinding, the last thing I want to do it open the lid of the grinder. I can see the evil red powder lurking all around the top of the device waiting to billow out. I set it by the door, thinking I’ll deal with it later. Outside.
Good for Sam, he took care of it. He decanted the powder into the jar (outside!) creating a new red layer over what was left from last year. He also cleaned out the spice grinder so it would be semi-suitable for use grinding something else.