|State of the Foodstuffs
||[Jun. 1st, 2018|04:46 pm]
We're supposed to hover around 100°F for the next few days, and my poor little garden hasn't been able to take it.|
The tomato plants are on death's door, currently delivering their tragic Shakespearean monologues to each other. After having grown to great heights and starting to tease me with a bunch of green fruit, they turned totally wilty and brown over the course of a few days. They're apparently going to finish the fruit that they started though, so I'll keep them around until there's nothing left to pick. We've gotten enough tomatoes that it wasn't a total loss, but it was a far cry from the piles of tomatoes that we were foisting onto neighbors last year.
The basil doesn't seem to mind the heat as long as it stays watered. The other greens though (chard, beets, sorrell) are gone. I noticed they were struggling during the day, and told myself I would just try to give them extra water and try to harvest them when they looked good again. Then I came out one afternoon to find them all laying flat, crispy and sun-scalded.
There is one beet plant left that, while small, continues to hang out all green and happy right next to the also-happy sage, who I'm assuming is satisfied with how it finally showed them, it showed them all!
The rosemary persists, without comment.
* * *
Did I tell you about our peach tree? It went bonkers this year. It gave me that "oh god I can't use these up fast enough" experience that the tomatoes failed to give. It was awesome.
Except for the larvae.
The little half-inch devils made their homes within probably a third to half of the peaches I took off that tree.
They all seemed so bewildered when I sliced off their little peach roofs. I almost felt bad for them—as I dumped them and their wreckage down the garbage disposal.
The peaches were still useable after cutting well around the eaten area, but I hope the neighbors didn't get any of the little buggers in our giftbags of peaches. Or if they did, I hope they discovered them by cutting the peaches and not by... (shudder)
* * *
And then, because gardening is so last month now, I rolled a new sourdough starter after getting a neat little book on it. A couple of starters, actually, to see:
a.) whether rest of the fancy-froofy rye flour I had in the pantry will actually perform as well as the baking world says it will, and
b.) whether the bulk-bread-flour from Costco (non organic! Recoil from my blasphemy, bakers!) can underdog its way to something useful.
A week in, Wheaty smells tangy and pleasant. Rye smells like something from the woods of my childhood that I can't quite place. Neither have any rising power whatsoever.
The one loaf I tried making with them so far turned out very dense, but the flavor was weirdly compelling enough that I've been looking forward to toasting a slice for breakfast every day.
We'll wait and watch them for another couple weeks. Unfortunately, trouble-shooting sourdough starter is nearly impossible, even with the internet. Everybody's got a different idea of the things that make or break them. Im not sure whether that's comforting (in that way of, "eh, just do whatever, it's going to do its own things anyway") or unnerving.