Harvest Report

One of the great pleasures of my life is having a small garden, in which to grow special treats.  This week, we picked a truly beautiful harvest.

Mt friend Yolanda gave me the zucchini and tomato plants, which were grown by UC master gardeners.  It's great to have well-connected friends!  Oddly, I'd never grown zucchini before, because I always assumed they'd take over the entire garden plot.  I guess plant developers have reined in that tendency since I was a kid, and my parents' zucchini plants ran wild. My plants maintain a reasonable size, and I'm definitely going to grow them again.

I'm horribly allergic to tomatoes, but I know Robb misses them.  I planted the tomatoes in a place where I wouldn't be brushing against the plants.  The first year we had this house, I planted an ambitious vegetable garden, and spent the summer covered in hives. Apparently even touching tomato plants is more than my body can take.  It's such a pity. I adore tomatoes.  Oh well. I enjoyed them while I could.

Our plum tree is just finishing up, and the pluot is at its peak.  We've been inviting friends over to pick fruit.  Everyone wears a mask, and we keep apart from one another.  It's all very strange.

I processed ten pounds of fruit this weekend, which is always really gratifying.  Throughout this time of year, I collect the windfall fruit every day, cut out the pits and any bruised sections, and stash them in the freezer until I'm ready to make jam.

Nothing is more satisfying than the sound of jar lids popping as the jam cools on the counter.

I picked a few of our currants.  Harvesting currants is always a bit of a race with the birds.  I want to let them stay on the plant as long as possible.  The birds have other ideas.

Robb has told all the neighbor-kids that they're allowed to pick the blackberries in our front year.  We love sharing.  City kids should be able to experience the pleasure of foraging.

It sort of boggles my mind that we'd never made lemon curd.  We have chickens.  We have a lemon tree.  But, for whatever reason, we were intimidated by making this recipe.  Turns out, it's absurdly easy, and that recipe writers tend to needlessly over-complicate things.

All this came together in tartlets that we enjoyed on the Fourth of July. 

The entire nation has been blowing off steam this summer by shooting off massive amounts of illegal professions-grade fireworks.  East Oakland has always been a blow-shit-up neighborhood, and the summer has been brutal. The fireworks go on every night until 3am.  I've actually been working (more on that, anon) and I'm just not getting enough sleep.

Pastries are the cure to sleep deprivation.  This is known.

I also picked the season's first figs. I grew all our fig trees from tiny twigs. I feel unreasonably proud of this fact.

Robb made a delicious rustic tart, which did not photograph particularly well.

If you're still curious to read what other folks are growing, there's a weekly garden harvest jamboree at the Happy Acres Blog.  It's really fun to check out.

And if you want to come over to pick pluots, please let me know.  I have enough to share.