Sunburn

Over the weekend, I asked Tom to build me a sort of shade covering for the peppers. This is what he came up with and I love it. The covering is agribon, the same stuff we use to protect from frost in winter. I didn’t want the peppers to be totally enclosed, I just needed a little light protection from the intense sun in the heat of the day. This is because my peppers are suffering (and suffer every year) from sunburn.

That whitish spot at the top of the fruit is the sunburn. It’s not the worst thing in the world; the rest of the pepper ripens normally and can be used, cutting away the damaged area. But it is a real nuisance when every single one of your peppers has it. It seems to affect the bells worse than the corno di torno types, but even those get it sometimes. And here’s the thing - peppers are sun lovers! Sun worshippers! They need heat and sun to be at their beautiful best. But in our area it’s a little different, and here’s my theory about that. As you can see from the picture up top, our pepper plants never really develop that full, leafy, luscious green look that plants in other parts of the country get. It’s because of how dry it is. I have drip irrigation on these plants as I do all of my garden, and while that keeps them alive and producing, it’s not enough to produce the kind of lush vegetation that would protect the developing fruit from the direct rays of the sun. As far as I know, sunlight on the actual fruit has no affect on ripening or sweetening - it all comes from the effect of the sun on the leaves. But the plant has to protect itself from dryness somehow, and it won’t sacrifice fruit because that’s how it reproduces. So what can it sacrifice? Some of the leaves. Hence, my plants are puny but still produce a good amount of fruit.

This is just a theory. You can help me by letting me know if you live in a rainy part of the country and grow peppers. How do your plants look?

Anyway, I’m hoping the light shade cover will take care of the sunburn issue. I get it on my tomatoes, too, but it’s impossible to provide any kind of shade cover at the moment because the trellises are too big. Maybe that’s a project for next year. Shade cloth every summer over this end of the garden?

Tom has also built me a stand for my dehydrator (in full use in summertime), which keeps it out of the way but convenient. He’s become quite a dab hand at these projects, and I’m so grateful!

A nerdy side note: Do you know what your state rock is? If not, you can look here.

Our state rock is Serpentine (or Serpentinite). You can find this all across the state and is a beautiful greenish color. It is formed from igneous processes, that is, volcanic, and then is metamorphosed. I was hiking in Sunol Regional Wilderness yesterday, and once I got up into the hills, there was lots of this stuff lying around, as well as degraded sheets of it on rock faces, which is basically asbestos. Asbestos is formed as the rock weathers and erodes. The dust, of course, can be quite dangerous, but I think the rock is really lovely. There are whole plant communities that thrive on this sort of substrate, a very specific list, which is helpful to know if you live in a place with a lot of serpentine. How will you know this? You need to look at the geologic map of your property. (I wrote a post about this in the Spring of 2019.) You might enjoy finding out your own state rock and how to identify it while you’re out hiking!

Kitchen Days

These are the kitchen days - days where we turn on the fan, heat up the oven, get out the food processor, the canning rig, the jam pot, the pickling salt.

Every extra moment filled with processing and cooking. Tomatoes into puree, salsa, paste. Peppers roasted and into the freezer.

Basil blended with garlic, walnuts, salt, parmesan, and olive oil. Pesto in little jars, into the freezer.

Cucumbers, picked when small, fermented into half-sour dills, or sliced and canned for bread n’ butter pickles.

Warm squishy berries picked in the hot sun, then cooked down with sugar into jam.

It’s hot work, and it’s persistent work. But our winter selves will thank us for doing it. Our stores are filling up! And tomorrow there will be more to pick….

July Arrangement

July has to be sunflowers, right? They look at their absolute best during the early, very warm days of summer. I grow them in all sizes and colors, usually starting them from seed in the greenhouse, and planting them out in May.

Strawberry Blonde

But, cutting these incredibly large (7-8 foot, in some cases) plants and bringing them inside makes me sad, when the bees and birds like them so much. I really prefer to leave them in place to help the wildlife, plus their sheer size makes such a statement in the garden, that I enjoy them far more outside in the ‘wild.’

Music Box

And during this bouquet experiment, I am also realizing that huge, overblown bouquets don’t really work in our tiny, crowded cottage. The scale is off, somehow. And even one largish bouquet looks kind of like a polka-dot in the middle of our dining room table. I am much preferring small, untidy mixtures. For something like a dinner party, a lot of small mixtures looks nice together, and the scale is right for our home (not that we’re having any kind of party at the moment, so it’s a moot point). But for everyday, I am totally enjoying a little swing-cap bottle, maybe nine inches tall, on the kitchen counter by the sink, in the sun that comes in the window.

Sundancer

This little vase is completely unobtrusive, occupies a niche that nothing else does, stays nicely out of the way when counter space is needed, and cheers up the entire space. When the sun hits the flowers, they glow. I’ve had such a good time keeping this vase filled. Sometimes it holds some yarrow that accidentally broke off while deadheading. Sometimes it holds a small spray of salvia or penstemon. Right now it’s holding some small border sunflowers that started to sway dangerously sideways in a container.

Chocolate Cherry

I have realized that I honestly prefer to keep the flowers outside, where their enjoyment is a hundred-fold; not only do we appreciate their beauty, but so do the neighbors, and the insects, and the birds. Our house is made of windows, and we really get to look out onto a bouquet, of sorts, when we look out into the garden. This is something I planned for. Long ago, I read that a gardener should begin with the view from their windows. Why put a flower garden far away where you can’t see it? So I work hard to provide interesting views from every angle of our home. Adam has a view of a canna lily patch, bordered by rose of sharon and an oak leaf hydrangea, under the mock orange tree - a group of flowers given to him by a special friend. Rin has a garden cart outside her window (made by my dad) that is in the shade of our porch, and it houses several tuberous begonias and an Iresine brilliantissima, whose bright pink leaves light up the shade. Our bedroom window looks out over a Vitex agnus-castus, which I’m hoping will grow much larger and allow for some privacy, and into the herb bed. Our back screen door opens near our native huckleberry bush, which the house finches have found this year, and we enjoy watching them eating the berries. The kitchen window looks over our water feature, where birds and bees come to bathe and drink. I could go on forever about this, but you get the idea. It’s great to make your house, especially if it is small, feel like just a part of the larger landscape.

On the flip side, I’ve also heard that having flowers in the house makes folks feel good, too - sort of wealthy, in beauty if in nothing else. Where do you stand on this? Do you like making bouquets? Are you growing sunflowers, and if so, which kinds? I’d love to hear more about what you are growing and arranging.

Bounteous July

Summer food is just so delicious. How great is it to go out in the garden, pick a few sprigs of herbs, a bunch of fruits and veg, and then make something simple and full of flavor? I love this way of living. July is definitely the month where everything starts to happen; tomatoes come ripe, cucumbers double their size every day, picking beans is a daily occurrence, and the herbs are always a minute away from flowering. We are often gone for the last half of July on vacation, but along with many of you, we are continuing to shelter at home, which means that we are here to witness the wave of produce coming in. Usually the neighbors, and whoever is housesitting for us, get the benefit of it. I’m feeling behind, and the harvest has barely begun!

A great recipe to use up all the bounty is Panzanella. This is one of those ingenious dishes that was ‘invented’ to use up any ingredients to hand. Overripe tomatoes? the last few olives or capers sitting in oil? half a cucumber in the fridge? baguette going stale on the counter? Check, check, and check. We always have extra baguette from Adam’s bakery in the freezer, and right now the tomatoes are ripening faster than we can eat them (I really must get canning). You can find a ratio of ingredients anywhere, but I suggest you start with what you have.

I found some beautiful fresh spring shallots at the market this morning, but you can use onions. After slicing one small fat bulb thinly, I soaked them for a couple of hours in a tablespoon or so of red wine vinegar, to take out the harsh raw flavor, and then dumped the whole mess in. I used two pounds of tomatoes, chopped into bite-sized pieces if they were large, and sliced in half if they were cherry tomatoes. I used a small cucumber, seeded and peeled. I used two cloves of garlic, grated. I made a dressing of 1 Tbsp of red wine vinegar whisked with 1/2 tsp of homemade grainy mustard (thank you Liz!), then added about 3-4 Tbsp of olive oil. I used a handful of torn basil leaves, and a few fresh oregano leaves. Plenty of salt and pepper. About 1/2 cup of good black olives, drained and sliced, or you could use a few tablespoons of drained capers. The baguette, cut into big chunks and toasted with olive oil and salt in the oven until very crisp. About a cup of fresh mozzarella cut into small cubes. You can add a pinch of red pepper flakes if you wish (I did not). Let it sit about four hours on the counter to marry the flavors.

This is a hearty side dish that will work well with any summer meal, or you could add some grilled chicken or shrimp and call it your main course.

I got a text from a friend (and home gardener) who is having a glut of peaches and hot peppers. It was fun to exchange recipes and ideas. I’d love to know what you’re harvesting, and how you’re cooking it - we would all benefit from your brilliant home cooking ideas. Feel free to add to the comments section!

Indigenous Land Acknowledgement

I’m taking a really interesting summer class called Social Issues in Agriculture. In it, we are exploring and learning about agroecology, biocultural memory, and political ecology. I have a lot of knowledge and experience in growing things, but I’ve never really considered the history of the land and the indigenous peoples who lived here first. It’s one thing to plant a ‘three-sisters garden;’ it’s another thing entirely to look at the garden from the perspective of the present while honoring the people who gathered, grew, and ate here long ago. I’ve looked at the geology and land processes, the geography and natural hazards of my property, without acknowledging the people who were here first, and the ones that moved in by colonization.

We have had several interesting lectures in my class, and one of them was proceeded by a verbal Land Acknowledgment and moment of silence to honor those that came before. I had never seen or heard of a Land Acknowledgment before, and I found it moving and important. In this time of increased awareness of the issues Black Americans face, I am also finding that there is a need for awareness of those that Indigenous People face.

What is a Land Acknowledgment? According to Northwestern University, it is “a formal statement that recognizes and respects Indigenous Peoples as traditional stewards of this land and the enduring relationship that exists between Indigenous Peoples and their traditional territories.” Why do we recognize them? It is “an expression of gratitude and appreciation to those whose territory you reside on, and a way of honoring the indigenous people who have been living and working on the land from time immemorial. It is important to understand the long standing history that has brought you to reside on the land, and to seek to understand your place within that history.”

So, I’d like to try my best to acknowledge the people who historically lived on the land on which I live and work. It is apparently better to do this badly then not at all, so here is my attempt. I live in what is now south Walnut Creek, California, a land originally populated by the Bay Miwok tribe. The Bay Miwok tribe was split into several other tribes, whose names were recorded in 1769 when the Spanish first came to California in force (there is some confusion about whether or not the Spanish actually gave the tribes these names): The Chupcan, Julpun, Ompin, Saclan, Tatcan and Volvon tribes. The Saclan tribe lived where I live now. According to our local San Ramon Valley Museum, “the Bay Miwok tribes each had one to five semi-permanent villages and numerous temporary camping sites within a fixed territory of about 6 to 10 miles in diameter. Each tribe knew its land and boundaries intimately and owned the land communally. They probably lived within different watersheds, consumed seasonal foods such as acorns, seeds and salmon and took advantage of their proximity to waterways. The Bay Miwok tribes each ranged in numbers from 200-500 at the time of European contact.”

The Saclan were apparently leaders in several rebellions of the region, and resisted the Spanish troops who came after them in several expeditions between 1795 and 1805. The refused to go peacefully to the Missions, but were eventually “subdued” by the Spanish military. The Spanish Colonial period extended to 1821, and the Missions were in charge of various areas; the San Jose Mission was likely the one that incorporated the Saclan people into its territory. The land was used for grazing animals (which destroyed our native ecosystems). In 1821 Mexico gained control of Alta California, and this period was dominated by rancheros and traders. Four Mexican land grants divided present-day Walnut Creek, and our area belonged to Jana Sanchez de Pacheco. His grandson is apparently the first person to build a roofed house here, in 1850, according to our local history. He named the territory Rancho Arroyo de Las Nueces y Bolbones (“Walnut Creek” and “Bolbones,” another name for the local indigenous people). He owned 20,000 acres, employed Mexicans and Natives, and bought sheep and cattle from San Jose Mission which continued to graze on these lands.

Of course, the Gold Rush began in 1849, and the miners continued to decimate the land and the tribal peoples. California became a state in 1850, and according to our county history, passed laws allowing the natives to be enslaved by any white man. Women and children were taken and sold. In 1863, this law was repealed.

In 1855, the first hotel was built in our city, and in 1856, Hiram Penniman laid out the town site and called it “The Corners.” That community was largely a farming one, planting vast pear and walnut orchards. In 1862, the first Post Office was built here, and the town was renamed Walnut Creek. In 1949, our immediate neighborhood was built, along with all of the schools our children attended.

We moved here in 2004.

I found it fascinating to research all of this, most of which I knew in bits and pieces before, but having a more complete picture is really good. I want to honor those that came before. I think it’s important that we all do. I encourage you to take some time and do the same. You might already know most of it, but you may learn something new, and it’s very good for us to acknowledge the harm our ancestors did to both the land and the people that came before. I am sad that there is a whole range of local knowledge that has been lost due to colonization, slavery, and genocide. There are very few Bay Miwok people left, and the Bay Miwok tribe has never been recognized by the federal government of the United States. Some California tribes signed treaties with the United States government in 1850, which gave up quite a lot of their ancestral land; it appears the Bay Miwok was not one of these tribes (for a fabulous history of the tribes in our area, click HERE to see a school curriculum put together by East Bay Regional Parks).

There is a cultural memory that has been lost, of what to gather and grow and cook here. There is a richness of diversity that has been lost. An entire People have been lost. I am also sad that a lot of our local land was destroyed by grazing, and now is colonized by plants that didn’t belong here, which destroyed our local ecosystems. Many of the plants and insects that thrive now came here as ballast on Gold Rush boats.

Of course, while I garden with a lot of plants native to this area, I also grow an awful lot of things that don’t belong here at all, and persist in keeping European honeybees which are non-native. I continue to wrestle with these issues and vacillate back and forth between championing this kind of growing, and vilifying it. We all need to make those decisions for ourselves. We need to know all the facts and acknowledge our actions, either way.

The same can be said for knowing who lived and worked on our land before we did. It is a way to honor them, to recognize them, to look them in the eye metaphorically and say “I see you.”