Garden On, Vashon

The garden is a revolving wheel of ripening fruits and vegetables right now: each week something new rises to the top of the “must pick” list, then gives over to the next. It’s not that there’s a new ripening: it’s that a crop reaches critical mass and you MUST do something before the excess you can’t use yourself goes to waste.

At Monument Farm, Joe had more cucurbits than he and Tony could use, so he brought sackfuls of patty pan squashes and cucumbers to the Food Bank last Tuesday. 

Down in Burton, the peach tree of Jim & Linda Rogers had MORE than enough for jam, for Ann’s cobbler, for my evening’s peaches-n-cream, with plenty left over. I dropped by with a reciprocal head of ‘Buttercrunch’ lettuce and found them deep in the jam-making. The place smelled heavenly, because “we found a recipe that uses lemon rind and crystallized ginger,” she explained. “Please, take some more!”

At GreenDale farm last week, it was cilantro’s turn to dominate. All our conversations ran like this—

ADRIENNE: “I made cilantro pesto last night—first time I’d even had it. REALLY yummy.”

KAREN: “Hard to believe it’s so much better than basil pesto!”

BILL:  ”We made cilantro pesto last night, and this morning I had it on toast. Sooo good!” 

This particular cilantro managed to feed three couples because it’s a HEDGE—two, six-foot-long rows of the stuff, each plant flowering at four feet high.

It caught the eye of Nghia the Vietnamese FedEx guy, prompting Bill to offer however much Nghia wanted to take away. 

I too came back for an armful, en route to my yoga teacher’s potluck. “What will I do with all this?” Amy asked. Can you guess?

“Make Cilantro Pesto!”

In a blender or food processor, pour about 1/4 cup of extra-virgin olive oil and 2 tablespoons real butter. Add 1 tsp salt, 3-4 crushed garlic cloves, about 1/4 cup toasted pine nuts (I use a small iron fry-pan, shaking the nuts for 4-5 minutes until they’re turning from gold to brown), about 1/4 cup finely grated parmesan cheese, and about two cups of cilantro leaves, loosely packed, then hit the “grind” button. You’ll probably have to do some careful jabbing with the end of a wooden spoon, along with more pourings-in of olive oil, before this rather dry mixture will work down into a paste. But once it has, adjust it for your own taste—more nutty? more cheesy? more garlicky? Then either serve it immediately on cooked pasta, green beans, or sauteed zucchini noodles—zuke sliced so thin (1/8″) that when sauteed for 3-4 minutes, it comes to an al dente just like fat fettucine noodles—or store it in small jars in the frig, packed to the brim and topped with a bit of olive oil to keep oxygen from darkening it.

Kohlrabi Pickle

This week’s rising crop is kohlrabi. I’ve never had it before this year, but turns out it’s good raw as a crudité, or it can be cut up and roasted with other root vegetables in the oven, coated in olive oil and mediterrean seasonings such as an herbes de provence mix.

Before Nghia left with his armful of cilantro, he reciprocated with this asian recipe, a bracing appetizer or side dish that’s pictured above. When I arrived at GreenDale Farm on Tuesday, Bill came out from the house with an Tousley bowl full of this pickle, eager to offer Bob a taste.

Trim and peel a fresh kohlrabi, then slice into 1/8″ slabs and quarter them. In a large soup bowl, mix 1/2 cup white or rice vinegar, 1/4 cup water, 1-2 pressed garlic cloves, 1/4 teas. salt, enough sugar to take the sourness away, and a teaspoon of hot garlic Sriracha sauce (or whatever hot pepper sauce you have in the cupboard.)

Bill said, “Nghia told me, ‘This is really good with steak! Before you grill the steak, cut off the beef fat, render it, and use it as a baste for the steaks, then serve this pickle to cut through the fat.’ Isn’t it refreshing?”

With each week’s new crop, there’s new recipes, new experiences, new friends with which to share this elemental experience of food. What riches lie in garden generosity!