History

The family mythology on my mother's side was that we came to the U.S. as fine English gardeners to a rarefied family in Cleveland.

This summer, I was at my grandmother's and found this album filled with images that provided us with unprecedented access into their lives.

I followed them as they worked in the greenhouse...




Climbed up onto the roof...


Took part in a summer fair...


and danced around a maypole.


Fell in love...




and played.

June - or - Where has this month gone?

To a small succulent garden on a recently tidied up backporch.



To a collage of ferns on that same porch.



To a cotton sweater whipped up in 3 days.



And to the coolest pair of socks I've ever made.



Seriously, how cool is that lace?



I got a book that marries western knitting with Japanese techniques - Knitted Socks East and West - and I'm making my way through the patterns. Each one is like a small puzzle - and I love the challenge.

Also this month:
Birthday.
Back to yoga.
Playing happy homemaker making strawberry jam and fresh rolls.
Actively changing the direction of my career.
Phew.

Chocolate Caramel Apples and Pears

Title sort of speaks for itself.

Autumnal weekend

I spent the wonderfully warm weekend in Berlin Heights and Huron, where my family's from.

On Saturday, we went to my great-uncle's, built on the land adjacent to my great grandmother's house and surrounded by a wonderful collection of fruit trees: plum, peach and apples. She always had a little of everything growing and spent summer and fall canning for winter.

At one point, I wanted to buy the house and rent a pied de terre in Cleveland so I could spend summers there gardening and swimming, with a city place to hang my hat as well.

Here are a few highlights from the weekend spent with family.

A laden Jonagold


Nana and I try a self-portrait




A peck of Grimes Golden apples and Golden Delicious




Seckel pears


Sorry about the focus...

We had an early Thanksgiving on Sunday - My Grandmother the Snowbird flies south for the winter and my cousin leaves for Quantico in 2 weeks.

We were short a centerpiece so I grabbed the berry basket my father made years earlier and filled it with things from her garden: watermelons, apples, grapes, peppers, tomatoes and chestnuts.




It was a traditional, if not short, Thanksgiving - with all the trimmings.
And missing the threat of snow.

Scape Pesto

UPDATE: A friend suggested I mix the lemon/limeade with my Hendricks Gin.
Best suggestion in a loooooong time.
It's my new favorite summer drink.
Better than mojito.
Better than Pimm's lemonade.
Better than a Negroni.
I need to come up with a fetching name for this concoction....

As you were~
***
I had a delightful dinner highlighting garlic scapes and fresh herbs....



The pesto was fairly simple, I cut up the green stems and 3 of the white flower heads - that's the part with the most flavor - there was no definitive answer on whether or not to use them, so I split the difference.
2 of stems of basil.
2 stems of oregano.
4 chive spikes.
I threw that into a food processor to chop.
Then I added some olive oil (1/4 cup-ish).
Some chopped walnuts (again, 1/4 cup-ish)
Salt and pepper to taste and some parmesean cheese.
I sauteed the pesto with angel hair pasta and added some fresh basil chiffonade.

And it goes well with... Lemonade!

I've been making a concerted effort to use as much of my herbs as possible (I had a habit of growing them and rarely using them). So I've been looking for recipes the match my garden, especially the lemon verbena that's doing really well this year.

Lemonade
Simple syrup: Heat 1 cup H20 with 1 cup sugar until sugar is dissolved.
Pour that over a bunch of freshly cut verbena, lemon balm and mint to infuse (about 30 minutes). I think any citrus-y or minty herb would do: pineapple sage, lemon grass or just mint alone.

Meanwhile, juice and strain 3 lemons and 2 limes and add it to syrup (which was also strained).
Add cold water to taste.

Deeee-lightful on a summer day.

Weekend Bounty: What I found in my garden

UPDATED UPDATE: The proto-pumpkin is DEAD. Someone (or thing) disconnected it. Although I would love to blame the children of the heathens downstairs, I think it was more likely a raccoon or cat, which worries me and makes me wonder what I can do to keep it from happening again....

UPDATE: I just picked a pint of raspberries from the bushes in the shared garden.
Raspberries!
I know exactly what I'll be doing with them....

After a day on the East Side, I went out to the community garden to thin out the radishes - much to my surprise, I found all this! (Actually, this is half the bounty, I gave the other half to the neighbor sharing the plot...)



In my own garden, the pumpkin patch is flourishing....

A proto-pumpkin

A rose garden & a miraculous hydrangea

I was in Lorain on the 3rd, making my 3 day weekend a 4 day mini-vacay.
It was a little rainy, but I stopped by Lakeview beach to see the rose garden in bloom.

It's been such a rainy summer, so things are lush and full and green and splendid, as evidenced below.









That evening, I went to Berlin Heights to prep for the big family party on the 4th. At my grandmother's, she told me to go out back and look at the hydrangea... I didn't think anything of it until I realized that this was a non-hearty indoor plant that I gave my grandfather in the last few months of his life.

Following his death, my mother tended the plant at home for the next year or so. We gave it to my grandmother a year later and she planted it. It weathered the first winter, but never bloomed - a florist told me it never would, given the species. But lo and behold, this year it's got a lovely bloom with more threatening.



Given that our family history seems to be told through plants it makes sense that this this little fellow has thrived.

Sorbet!

No pics yet - but I'm working on a new sorbet...

Honey lavender (first draft)
2 cups H20
3/4 cups honey
2 Tbsp dried Lavender buds

Heat honey and H20 to dissolve honey.
Add lavender (I added some lemon verbena, too).
A note about the lavender - I had some dried on hand that is considered edible, and I'm unsure as to the edibility of say - fresh lavender from the garden... I wonder if all the recipes I read that mentioned "food grade lavender" were to try and keep one from raiding the potpourri jar - I'll look into it, but I'm guessing fresh lavender is fine. 
A wee sprinkling of salt.
Bring to boil.
Reduce to simmer for 5 minutes.
Remove from heat and allow to sit (10-ish minutes)

Strain all the bits out.

Mix in 2 Tbsp lemon juice & 2 Tbsp vodka.

Refrigerate until cool and let the ice cream maker do what it does best.

Fingers crossed (I'm at the "Remove from heat" step and my kitchen smells divine...

Ice Cream!

Obviously, I'm on some sort of manic cooking jag - and it's only going to get worse as more foods arrive on the vine. Last night, in addition to the pesto and boursin, I made my favorite summer ice cream, chocolate mint.

I used the basic Martha Stewart recipe, but instead of adding vanilla, I steep chocolate mint at the creme anglais stage overnight and add 3 oz dark chocolate, 3 oz milk chocolate & a Tbsp cocoa at the custard stage.

Steeping the mint...


Wait.. 8... EIGHT yolks?


Finished base, ready to freeze.


Tonight I was staring at my strawberries trying to figure out what to do. I was thinking about a pie with custard, but ran out of eggs since Martha requested EIGHT (seriously, Martha...). I though about jam, but lack the containers. I really like the simplicity of fresh strawberries with a bit of balsamic vinegrette drizzled over, so I went looking for a recipe and found this one. I added a bit more honey than they call for and added a tetch of salt and pepper, since the flavor is a bit more complex than just sweet.

Finished base, ready to freeze.


The Cuisinart is getting a HELL of a workout this week. Flavors I still want to do this summer: lavender, lemon verbena, salted caramel, mint, chocolate orange, watermelon and come fall, I make a MEAN concord grape sorbet.

Other suggestions are appreciated!

More local food

It's early in the season, but my herbs are doing well with all the rain and sun.
I decided it was time to gather and create.

From the garden (clockwise from upper left): thyme, basil, rosemary, chives, with sage at the center.

Many thanks to Mulberry Creek Herb Farm for all the organic herbs over the years. If you like a mini-road trip, don't miss their Herb Fair this weekend - with a Tuscan theme.

I thought boursin cheese would be a good result from what I had on hand - I use it in salads (with the strawberries) or slather it on toasty bread.

I mixed equal parts goat and cream cheese, then added chopped herbs, garlic, salt and pepper to taste.


A bunch of spicy-smelling, earthy, clove-y basil.


I put the basil in the food processor with olive oil, salt & pepper, garlic and a bit of parmesean cheese...


I can't wait to have it over pasta tomorrow night...

How's that for fresh and local

From the community garden behind my house...



Sweet and fresh and delicious!

I'm quite pleased with the garden - it's really bringing the neighbors together in a shared space.

Sometimes it's nice to go about your business next to someone going about theirs - separate, but in a sort of shared rhythm.

Garden Proud

I've been working on a perennial garden in my backyard for a couple of years.
I used to stick with herbs and veggies, but they proved too high maintenance since I tend to spend a number of weekends away from home. We're trying the community garden thing again behind the Neighborhood Family Practice, so I hope my veggies will be safe there from slugs and aggressively growing things that cast too much shade and crowd out my tomatoes (ahem... weird clematis in my plot... planted by resource hogging neighbor... ahem).

I started the perennials two years ago when garden centers were having spectacular sales in early fall, I just planted some lilies here, some ground cover there - not really following a plan. I added spring bulbs, which were a nice surprise in April, and the greens fill in.

This year, I pulled a number of things from my parents house, including: hostas, ferns and Sweet Woodruff (Myrtle came along for a ride).



Despite (or maybe because of) their constant need for attention, I still do herbs: basil, rosemary, oregano, lemon verbena and chocolate mint (for homemade ice cream). To keep the slugs at bay, I started hanging pots on the fence
because slugs + basil = great sadness.



To satisfy my need for color, I do annuals in window boxes off my back porch and pots next to the door - if only to make me and the postal workers smile.



It's nice to have a little color and green in the backyard - and I admit that I am more of an active-get-my-hands-dirty gardener than a sit-back-and-enjoy-the-fruits-of-my-labor gardener.

Someday I'll go outside and knit in the sun...

Hostas

This weekend I helped my dad split hostas that had become root bound in pots. I thought it was interesting how intrigued I am by these plants. Fifteen years ago, I would have ignored these plants totally. I used to love petunias for their ruffles and color - but they seem somehow garish to me now.

Rootbound hosta


I know I'm getting older because I find the subtle recurring beauty of a variegated hosta preferable to the temporary and riotous flush of annuals.

Splitting hostas


I brought back a number of options to plant and share: Elephant Ear (large leaves), Antioch (green and white variegated), Golden Tiara (medium green with light green variegated edges) and this lovely blue hosta that's got dainty leaves and the color of a blue spruce.

A family history through plants

My father's illness has made me ever more aware that I am the last of my family and that everything we've created, built, made or done will matter little after I quit the mortal coil.

That's a difficult reality to face.

The thing I find myself mourning most is the garden.

We get the gardening from my mother's side. Direct ancestors came to NE Ohio from England to work on the Severance estate as gardeners, and we have spectacular pictures of them on handmade grapevine furniture in an outdoor living room.

Gardening remained a deep thread through over the years. My grandfather was the son of a family with orchards. My great-grandmother died when at age 88, she was carrying 50 lbs of canning equipment to the basement to get started for winter.

Growing up, we always had a garden, and I only understand now how extraordinary their commitment was. As I help my father in garden now, he tells me the history of almost every plant:
*the boxwood they bought in Ontario when I was in high school - all the bushes around the house came from two plants.
*the privet hedge that he cultivated from cuttings made illegally from the old rose garden at the beach (only the truly passionate would sneak into a park after sunset to cut privet hedge)
*the lilac volunteer that I took from the backyard of the florist's who hired me through college - it's still in a pot, 4 foot tall, and waiting for me to set my roots so it too can be planted, once and for all.
*the rose bush that was Grandma Margie's, then planted at The Pink House in Berlin Heights, that they managed to get from current owners before they tore out the old landscaping.
*the red honeysuckle they bought in Vermont when I spent two summers working there

Tree after bush after flower represents trips taken or milestones met - many have seen four generations of my family - it's like the plants ARE the family.

So I feel a bit guilty for being the last one -

Otto Schoepfle solved his dilemma by leaving his well-curated land to the Lorain County Metroparks, but this is a house on a street in an outer ring suburb...

And I need to figure out how these plants and their stories can live on beyond the lives of those that tended to them.