Today’s guest post comes from JudyBusy in south Minneapolis:

I grew up on a farm, so spent a great deal of time weeding and eating. I can still taste the earthiness of a carrot pulled, wiped on my shorts and eaten in the midst of the garden. My dad planted sweet corn with a small tractor and planter, and in August the chore of gathering ears and shucking them fell to us kids. Nothing says summer like blanching hundreds of ears, cutting off the kernels and stuffing them into freezer bags — in a Minnesota August, when we did not need the extra humidity.

But man, that little taste of summer is heaven in the middle of January.

Sometimes I think I had no choice but to garden, having come from countless generations of farmers, knowing that food comes from the earth, intimate with rain and early frosts.

So, I garden in a small city lot, growing mostly flowers, but herbs and vegetables as well. I grow stuff that I can’t get elsewhere, or just for the beauty of them in the garden. I grow sorrel, a vigorous herb that is the first to come in spring, along with better known chives. If we get that early frost, it shrugs and sends up new shoots. I always write in my garden journal when we have the first sorrel, served over scrambled eggs laced with Parmesan cheese. It’s tart, a little lemony, and the French make a soup of it, although I think you’d need about a half dozen plants to get enough leaves.
I’ve grown okra, which is very pretty, cousin of hibiscus that it is. The one I grew had pretty yellow flowers, and tucked inside was a burgundy set of pistils and stamens that had been made of velvet.

I always grow eggplant, even though they are easily found. They are so firm, so plump, so ready when picked. We cut them in circles, fry in olive oil, sponge off, and layer them with chopped garlic, balsamic vinegar, basil, and salt and pepper. Along with a sort of salad called panzanella, it’s the perfect supper. The name means “little swamp” in Italian. It’s a mess of baguette pieces, tomato, cucumber, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, garlic, basil and capers, maybe a little shallot.

I love talking to other gardeners about what they grow, seeing the anticipation on their faces and as they describe the perfect potato recipe, or the best salsa they’ve ever had—who knew serranos could get that hot! The varieties of vegetables are swapped back and forth, with “Have you ever….” stories: “Oh, and then there was the time we spiked vodka with habanero chilies and served it in orange juice….”

So what is your favorite eating and gardening memory?

This entry was posted on Monday, July 27th, 2009 at 9:42 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.