Hey GG friends!

Today is our last guest post. I want to give a big thank you to all contributors the past two weeks. You rock!

Later in the week, I’ll be posting some shots from Maui. Even on my honeymoon, my inner plant nerd can’t resist a tour of island natives, tropical gardens and working farms. One adventure took also us 10,000 feet above sea level to see a Silversword, a rare plant that lives only at the top of the Haleakala volcano.

Aloha!

From Rhonda:

Over the years, our family has moved away from using a lot of chemicals to maintain our grass and gardens.  We don’t use anything that’s full of toxic chemicals. With cats who like to chew on various grasses, and a dog and a kid who love to romp around, I learn to live with bugs on my perennials and less-than-green, lush grass.

A few weeks back, I encountered a small wasp nest in a playhouse when I dragged it from one spot to another in the yard. I was swarmed within seconds and got stung on the lip. The good news is it only caused a fat lip but left us with the dilemma of how to get rid of the nest. This was one of three nests we found in the backyard: one was under our wood deck bench and another was in a foundation crack next to a wall. In the past, we always used the heavy-duty wasp spray. But I found a better, safer solution.

EcoSmart makes an organic, plant-based insecticide that kills wasps and hornets.  It had a peppermint-like odor and killed the wasps quickly. It claims to be safe for kids and pets and leaves no pesticide residue. I was happy to find an alternative. (Read more about wasp and bee control here.)

Another ‘green’ product I found this summer wasVeggie Pharm insecticide/miticide/fungicide. I used this on bugs eating my Black-eyed Susans and other perennials. Made from garlic and organic peppermint oil, it seemed to kill the pests as well as the more toxic sprays. The label says its safe for edibles and herbs, though I was reluctant to spray it on my peppers.

What other natural or organic products have you found to use on your garden or pests? If you make up your own formulas, please share your tips.

I’ve always been a perennial person, so I’m kinda used to that work cycle. I spend a lot of time in the spring improving the soil, putting in new plants, transplanting, etc. After that, my plants are good to go, save for the necessary watering and dealing with the occasional disease or nasty pest.

But this year, I pulled out some of my perennials (!) to put in vegetables. I planted tomatoes (too many, of course), peppers, cucumbers, squash, broccoli, salad greens and a whole bunch of herbs. I figured that I’d plop them in the ground and more or less ignore them until harvest time. But these upstart plants have been downright demanding. 

 The tomatoes need to be watered almost everyday and after an initial scare, I’ve had to monitor them constantly for blight. The squash (which I’m growing in a container because I have no space) needs to be feed weekly or it pouts and produces yellowed leaves. And the herbs, well, half of them have bolted already (the cilantro, the basil) and the other half are refusing to grow.

My perennials, on the other hand, look spectacular. Too bad I can’t eat them . . .

So, here’s my question: Am I just whining or is growing veggies more work than growing perennials?

Today’s guest post is from Jennifer in south Minneapolis.

I just finished the book Perennial Vegetables: From Artichokes to Zuiki Taro, A Gardener’s Guide to Over 100 Delicious and Easy to Grow Edibles, by Eric Toensmeier. I can’t say I recommend buying it, since most of the information in it is for people blessed with warmer climates than ours. But, it’s definitely worth checking out from the library.

The list of perennial vegetables that supposedly grow well here was longer than you might expect, but after reading each plant’s profile I was able to narrow it down pretty quickly. Some were pretty putzy and then the end result was something that tasted only sorta good. Not really worth the effort. Here’s my list of perennial vegetables that I actually would like to try:

Sorrel
Good King Henry
Scorzonera (also known as salsify)
Sunchoke
Ramps
Lovage

I planted asparagus already, earlier this spring, so I’ve crossed that off my list. I sampled sorrel in one of my neighbor’s back yards and loved it — a super tangy and unusual green. I also bought some sunchokes from my Co-op earlier this spring and they were really tasty too.

Has anyone grown any of these and had good luck with them? Where should I buy them? I have a hard time believing my local garden center is going to stock all of these.

Also, anyone want all the purple phlox I’m ripping out and replacing with edibles next spring?

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?

From Lee Kafkas:

I have a tomato conundrum that I’d like some of the best gardening minds to ponder. My tomatoes are growing too well. While you may be wondering “where is that conundrum?”, allow me to let me lay out a little history of our yard and the tomatoes that have grown in it.

My wife and I have a small home plot in Minneapolis. Though close to downtown, we have a active wildlife population of birds that nibble on our raspberries and blackberries, rabbits that nosh on our greens, and squirrels that snack on our tomatoes. I haven’t waged war, haven’t been too concerned about pest control, our solution was to grow smaller tomatoes that provided ample fruit for both us and the squirrels.

This year I started some “red currant” tomatoes by seed and planted four inch high seedlings in a bed that I had recently built over the remains of an old tree’s ground stump. I figured there would be some good nutrients deep down for years with the remnants of the decomposing tree. Maybe I underestimated the powerful punch of nutrients that lay in this area because that four inch seedling, a month later is about five feet tall with almost thirty lateral branches off of the main stalk. It’s not all green stalk-y growth. There has been abundant flowering and fruit formation. My problem comes with the neighbors of this tomato plant.

In this new bed, I had also planted multiple asparagus seedlings from the farmer’s market. They are about ten-twelve inches tall, are a healthy green, and have sent up q-tip sized asparagus shoots (which I have left in place and not disturbed). They seem to be doing well, I know they need a few years to get established and I am patient, but I thought that a couple plants could share space with them in the first year, not knowing how humongous the neighbor would get. My main fear is that I may have retarded the asparagus’ root and stalk growth this year by this crazy tomato plant.

Are these plants incompatible companions? Am I safe letting the tomato keep growing how it wants to this year? Should I prune back all superfluous branches to give the asparagus more light and topside room? Whatever I do, I don’t want to encourage extra tomato root growth. My ideal is to get a bounty of red currant tomatoes and have a healthy patch of asparagus when the tomatoes are done. If any of you think a sacrifice needs to be made, let me know. All plans of action are welcome.