The garden in the back, the one with the fence around it, is still more a herb garden than anything else. But I keep trying with the vegetables, and am having a few small successes. So from now on I’ll call it the kitchen garden.
Last weekend I pulled down the tomato plants. I first planted them in the spring, from starters, and I was lazy and didn’t put up cages. They grew lovely, healthy vegetation, spreading out over a large swath of the garden. A few tomatoes came out and swelled to size, ready to ripen. Then came the crows. I hoped I could hold them off by giving them our leftovers in the compost pile, but the juicy tomatoes must be too tempting in a dry summer like this last one. The plants didn’t produce many more, so I only had a few sad, hard, green orbs with holes where the crows got to them, never reddening.
Checking my handy Texas Gardener I realized I should be able to get a fall crop out of the tomatoes, so I got cages and propped them up properly. Past the heat of the summer there was a fresh round of blooms and suddenly little green tomatoes everywhere! Best of all they were all behind a cage that would keep the crows away.
Too good to be true, in marched the spider mites:

Yet another bad run at the Ellzeys with tomatoes. I’ve had one in a pot that sunburned in the heat, another in the garden that simply did nothing - few blooms, few fruit, and what little it did have was harried by crows. Now, one harried by crows AND infested with spider mites.

It’s ok if I can’t do well with tomatoes. I did make a batch of fried green tomatoes that were delicious. Red ripe tomatoes would be nice, but I’ve accepted that the garden isn’t going to produce any fruits.
Instead, I’m growing things for vegetation, like the abundant herbs. As usual, the basil and mint are growing like gangbusters. I’m ready to harvest them back, I don’t want to get hit by an unexpected cold night and lose what I’ve got on there now. I’ve got plans for this weekend to make pestos, herb liquors, flavored sugars, and scented bath salts. I’ve got a good quantities of sweet basil, thai basil, cinnamon basil, and mint for this project. The chocolate mint died back too early, alas, it would have been useful for Thanksgiving dinner had I planned ahead and harvested some earlier. I intend to use some Mexican mint marigold, rosemary, a little lemon verbena, and a little sage in these mixtures as well.

Speaking of Mexican mint marigold, I have plans to move it out of my garden and into the new ornamental “bed” by the bowl. It’s not really a bed since I’m not sectioning it off and adding new soil, it is supposed to remain a naturalized area that just gets supplemental watering and an occasional dose of fertilizer. Currently occupying that area are a couple established red Turk’s cap that draw lots of hummingbirds. I just added three new pink Turk’s cap, which based on my blog searches is popping up in gardens all over the greater Austin area:

I won’t completely remove the Mexican mint marigold from the kitchen garden until it’s firmly established in the new area. It’s one of my favorite plants, it doesn’t seem to mind the heat or the shade, the foliage is reasonable to look at, it takes well to pruning, it smells lovely, it has beautiful flowers. But it doesn’t belong in the kitchen garden because you need so little of it as a seasoning, it’s like EXTREME tarragon. It’s a strong flavor, and it doesn’t go with everything. Thus it’d be much better suited as an ornamental hedge like the rosemary, snipping a bit here and there when needed.
The healthy Mexican mint marigold spreads to cover a sizable patch, and I need the space in the kitchen garden for the herbs that get used in abundance. Herbs with a lot of uses, or a delicate structure that requires you to add a lot to a dish. Herbs like the aforementioned basil and mint. Herbs like the parsley that I planted last fall, which made it through the summer by laying quiet, and perked up this last month enough to utilize.
Then there’s the cilantro, sprung up from seeds left behind from last fall’s crop. I carefully nurtured the seedlings and they too are getting snipped for cooking, although I’m still buying bunches at the grocery too:

My favorite little crop is the beautiful delicate dill that started from seed. I went through and thinned them today and used all the tiny fronds I harvested. Thinking of good uses for the dill inspired me to go through my Russian cookbook and make a mushroom caviar (recipe coming!):

I’ll try to be good with it. I like to use dill almost as a vegetable when it’s in season, but Zane isn’t fond of it used that way.
There’s also the garlic chives, moved from the ornamental bed in the front where it lay for three or so years, never blooming, looking boring. Currently it still looks boring, but this summer I got blooms! I could probably make do with just one, but I hate to kill either, they’ve been through so much. It’s growing by the west side of the garden, which is at the top of the slope and notoriously dry; if it can survive there I’m loath to remove it:

Last weekend I harvested a bouquet of herbs for a mushroom caviar, which I’m snacking on as I write this

Mushroom Caviar
- A little butter and oil
- 1 8 oz container button mushrooms, coarsely chopped
- 2 large dried shittake mushrooms, soaked in hot water until soft, drained, squeezed dry, and coarsely chopped
- 2 oz cream cheese
- Fresh minced herbs to taste - I used dill, parsley, cilantro, garlic chives, and Mexican mint marigold. I like having the dill and marigold as the dominant flavors, using a lot of dill but not much marigold. I didn’t use all the marigold or the parsley in my bunch.
Heat the saute pan, and melt in the butter and oil. You want the pan to be good and hot when you start, but not too hot - at about medium. Add the mushrooms and cook, stirring constantly. At first, the mushrooms will absorb all the oil. After a little while, they’ll start getting soft and expressing the liquid. Stop cooking as soon as it hits this stage - you don’t want it to get watery. Add the cream cheese, mix well, then add in the minced herbs, salt and pepper. Let age a few days in the refrigerator to develop the flavors. Serve as a spread for crackers or toast, or a filling for crepes.

The flavor is good, but next time I’ll probably chop the mushrooms finer.
Moving on from the herbs, there are actually a few vegetables surviving in my garden right now, dare I say maybe even thriving? I’ve got some Chinese cabbage coming along nicely, I pick outer leaves now and then to use. There’s these more traditional cabbages that seem to be shaping up well:

There’s a few radishes that I started from seed. Several of them look like they’ll be ready to harvest soon, and I picked the greens from most of the remainder for dinner yesterday:

I have romaine and leaf lettuces started from seed that appear to be doing well, and also thinned them out recently, creating a baby lettuce blend we’ve been enjoying. The brocolli, cauliflower, and brussel sprouts are plugging along. Finally, there’s the swiss chard, another summer survivor that lasted since last fall’s garden.

I trimmed the outer Swiss chard leaves yesterday and used it with the radish greens in what has become our standard chard dish. I’ve seen multiple forms of the dish on the internet so I know it’s traditional Italian, but I don’t follow an exact recipe and I’m not sure which elements are vital to the traditions, or how far I’ve strayed.
Swiss Chard and Sausage Pasta
- 1 lb box dry pasta, penne or fusilli or whatever you like
- ~3 sausages in casings, Italian, bratwurst, or whatever you like
- 1 bunch swiss chard, well washed, stems cut away from the leaves, stems and leaves chopped separately. Can supplement with additional tender greens like radish greens
- ~2 cloves garlic, minced
- Splash of white wine
- ~1/2 cup pine nuts, toasted
- ~1/2 cup grated Parmesan or other hard Italian cheese
- Pepper to taste
Cook pasta. Penne is traditional but we like twisty shapes.
Heat a pan and crumble in the sausage. Last night I used bratwursts, I’ve used Italian sausage, I’ve even used leftover breakfast sausage. Cook the sausage, breaking up into little pieces as you do, until it’s browned slightly. Remove the sausage but leave the fat in the pan.
To the sausage grease, add the garlic and cook briefly. Add chopped chard stems and cook for a bit. Splash in some white wine and cook until the liquid is gone. Spoon in some of the hot pasta water and cook a little more. After the chards have softened a little but not all the way, add the chopped greens. Continue to add hot water a little at a time and cook until the chards are softened and the is pan mostly dry.
Add the sausage back into the pan and cook for a minute or two, until it is well mixed.
Drain the pasta but don’t shake off excess water. Turn into a bowl. Add the chard-sausage mixture and toss. Add in the pine nuts and cheese and toss again. Serve with black pepper.

As is probably evident from the length of this post, I am thrilled that the garden is starting to produce more, slowly but surely