Yesterday was a big day for Boz and Gracie. Sure they had dollops of dressing and gravy chasers to indulge in, but their T-Day treats were spiced with a little something extra: triumph. Last Thanksgiving Day, they were inconsolable when the National Dog Show judges slighted their breed,the bulldog, choosing the Lhaso Apso as best breed of the non-sporting group. But yesterday, the bulldog Razzle Dazzle took back the title for his beefy brethren. So as you can see in the photo above, Boz and Gracie are each as smug as a bug in a rug, sleeping off the treats and the even sweeter taste of victory.
May the distances that separate us be erased with each fond recollection, and the smiles and laughter of family and friends be captured in memories that never fade. May this day be filled with warm hearths and warmer hearts and may our gratitude for the gifts of life never escape us.
Nothing like a bowl of fresh apples within arm’s reach.
Beni Shogun Fuji apple is one of my favorite fresh eating apples. Because Fuji needs a long growing season, and I live west of the Cascades where long summers rarely vacation, I was in search of a sport of Fuji that was better suited for cooler climates. I found Beni Shogun Fuji and I’m happy to report old Beni is a champ, weathering our cool growing season admirably. The apples were glowing red and firm as an unripe pear. A few weeks in the fridge and they mellowed into juicy little sugar bombs.
Bramley’s Seedling apple is handsdown my favorite baking apple. It’s a tree that says stand back, I’m ready to grow some great cooking apples and plenty of them–such a very heavy producer, that Bramley’s Seedling usually requires support stakes to keep the overloaded limbs from breaking. Apples are big, firm, crisp and flavorful–tart for sure, and perfect for cooking or eating fresh though on the uber-tart side.
Cameo apple had me at hello. I was willing to take a chance on this apple, not sure how well it would grow in Western Washington. You should be able to find Cameo in your produce section, so give it a try. It is a juicy, crisp fresh eating apple suitable simply for dessert. Normally cameos are more red than yellow; perhaps their light blush is in response to my fondness toward them.
Esopus Spitzenberg apple is often known as the preferred apple of Thomas Jefferson. After its first harvest, I’d have to concur it is very good and I look forward to next year’s crop when the tree has had time to mature. It’s a very firm apple that rewards you with more flavor and depth if left to mellow in a cool place for a week or two.
Jonagold apple is an amazingly good apple in my orchard. In fact, if I could only plant a couple apple trees, Jonagold would top the list. As a cross between a Gold Delicious and Jonathan, it brings a lot of flavor to the table. It is super sweet but finishes off with a very nice tartness. Fresh eating or cooking up a storm, this is my prize pick for best apple this year. More from WSU extension.
York is one of those apples that tastes like it has a history (and it does). Discovered in 1830 in York, Pennsylvania, the apple enjoys a subtle flavor and appealing, firm texture. While not overly sweet, York is an apple I could eat everyday, whether or not it actually did keep the doctor away. Big and lop-sided usually, it’s also a very good baking apple.
That’s about it for now, but I have a couple other newly planted varieties I’ll be reporting on later.
This photographer’s assistant is a little to0 tongues-on.
Boz is obsessed with apples. In his world and from his point of view, they fall from the sky, which is something you can’t say about a dog biscuit. Milk-bone handouts or kibbles found under the couch are not as forthcoming as the windfall of twenty apple trees, all of which are a short jaunt from any given door of this fine old house.
So when I began snapping shots for an upcoming post about my favorite apples in the orchard, it came as no surprise that this furry little interloper took full advantage of a low shelf and focused photographer. The photo says it all. Oh, and for any would-be apple eaters at tall clover farm, I do wash the apples, even if Boz starts the job.
Boz and Gracie do the math; everyone gets an apple.
I fancy myself as someone who is pretty handy in the kitchen, a man able to smoke a brisket, assemble a tart, craft a Cassoulet or conjure up some ice cream. But one day, one sad summer day, I entered the kitchen overly confident that making ketchup was a breeze. How hard can it be to reduce a spicy sauce rendered from about ten pounds of my finest homegrown tomatoes? Such a question was soon to be answered. After what seemed like 57 ingredients and the same number of steps, a molten sea of soupy bubbling sauce began its journey in a heavy stock pot, evaporating ever closer to its final glory: thick, rich, barely pourable, but totally delectable ketchup.
While the watched pot had no trouble boiling, I had trouble remaining focused on stirring its simmering contents. (Oh look, something shiny.) My distraction was fed further when a neighbor stopped by. Unfortunately we both share the gift of gab and what seemed like a few minutes of chitchat morphed into a lengthy catch-up of current island events. As I waved goodbye and stepped back onto my kitchen stoop, a smell that can only be described as scorched sugary tomato sauce melding to the bottom of stainless steel stockpot hit me like a wall.
My dash to the stove was halted as I came upon an eruption of red sauce spewing to the height of the ceiling—each burst leaving a trail of dripping red stalactites. One false move and the authorities would find this beefy meatball fused to the floor, done in by a Mount Vesuvius of splattering Marinara.
Wielding a broomstick to push the pot off the burner, I averted a disaster or rather eclipsed the next phase of this disaster. The cleanup seemed endless, as any and all surfaces in the kitchen took direct hits. Boz and Gracie were all too eager to help, licking up anything found at shin height or on the floor.
What did I learn from this culinary catastrophe? 1.) Be careful with your condiments; and 2.) Some dogs are allergic to tomatoes.
Indian Free Peach Harvest: One for Each Hand In a month where plump pumpkins take center stage, green tomatoes consume counter space faster than we consume them, and wet leaves hitch a ride on unsuspecting soles, I awaited the finale of one of summer’s finest players, my Indian Free peach tree.
Between spring rains, high winds, lowly squirrels, unfailing gravity and deer that were anything but, only two peaches remained to bless the tree. Not wishing to tempt fate, or ignore the skills of said squirrels, I proudly picked the peaches and rushed to the kitchen before the deer got wind.
I let the peaches ripen under a light cloth for a few days, as Indian Free peaches while delectable ripe, will turn your mouth inside out if not. It’s a pucker worthy of the lime.
Days later, they did not disappoint, and were a fitting farewell to a summer favorite with its foothold in fall.
Last year the Indian Free peaches were unusually crimson, but just as sweet when left to ripen on their own time.
Quince: Autumn’s Brightest (and often, most forgotten) Jewel
Culinary quince, Cydonia oblonga, as delicious to the palate as to the eye. (Variety shown: Aromatnaya)
When we last left our spring quince tree, she was blushing with buds and fruitful possibilities. It seemed Mother Nature had a different plan, one that was rich in rain and parsimonious with the pollinators.
And so months later under the full moon of October, the harvest of the quince can be held in two cupped hands.
For the record, Boz prefers the crispy sweet crunch of a Jonagold apple to the dry raw state of an uncooked quince (but it will do in a pinch). Quince is best eatened cooked and usually reserved for jams, jellies, baking and compotes. It’s a fruit that’s better placed in a sauce pan than a snack hand.
My blog pal Sylvie at Laughing Duck Farms shares my love of quince and offers up some great ideas on What to Do With Quinces.
Don’t let cool summers keep you from growing the season’s finest garden treat. Of all the tomatoes I planted this year, here are some my favorites, based on taste, robust growth and prolific nature. These are great tomatoes for you backyard garden.
Northern Exposure tomato is an all around winner: beautiful round deep red baseball-size toms –firm, meaty, flavorful and possessing an impressive shelf life of up to a week after picked. The plant is bushy, well-behaved and determinate (only grows to about three feet).
Old German tomato was new for me this year, planted as a substitute f0r my all-time favorite Pineapple tomato. I’d have to say Old German is my new favorite as the largest, sweetest and meatiest slicing tomato in the garden this year (and the plant was robust to boot).
A crazy kaleidoscope of yellow, orange and red, it’s almost seedless and packs a dense meaty goodness that makes it my preferred BLT tomato.
Two slices manage to cover half a sliced baguette.
White Wonder tomato is also new to me, a novelty of sorts that pays off with sweet melting low-acid flavor that makes it a pleasure to eat simply with salt, pepper and a drizzle of olive oil and balsamic vinegar.
White Wonder is not the most vigorous vine, but I was happy with the ten or so medium to large fruits that found their way to my dinner plate. Fourth of July tomato was a real winner, though ripening a month later than its namesake would suggest. It’s juicy and sweet and about the size of a ping pong ball–a perfect salad or snack tomato. The vine is very vigorous, the fruit does not split after rains, and it keeps well, too.
Lemon Boy tomato is a sharp, tangy tasting medium size tomato that adds a nice dimension to fresh eating, salads and salsa.
Amish Paste is the juiciest meatiest paste or Roma type tomato I’ve ever grown. It’s a great fresh eating tomato and not as thick-skinned as most paste tomatoes. I found no need to skin them when I made sauce.Boz and Gracie asked that I point out they would rather tap a nap than eat a hothouse tomato. I’d also like to point out that they’d rather take a nap than do a lot of things.
My friends Beth and June (Four Green Acres) have weighed in and it looks like the Persimmon tomato has a devoted following. June, in fact, has a great blog post where she shares her top tomato picks this season. I can’t wait to try them myself and discover other new tomatoes in the coming season.What are your favorite homegrown tomatoes?What I was blogging about a year ago: Violetta Fig Finishes Out the Season
Heirloom tomatoes: Amish Paste, White Beauty, Old German, Pineapple, Hillbilly, Lemon Boy and Sugar Lump. If I left these on the vines, October rains would sauce them for me.
Some days show up like a great performance; the key players tune up to bring you a perfect mix of light, breeze and balm. Sunday was one such day, a magical confluence of seasons where the best of summer and the best of autumn shared the stage. With rain in the forecast (for the next nine months) and a working man’s breakfast under my belt, the day was mine. The garden grew before me , laden with the fruits of summer calling for me to “Better get pickin’!”
Cherry tomatoes share the box with fortex green beans, a delicious and productive haricot vert.Boz inspects my work and shares a few picking tips before moving on in his inexhaustible quest for the perfect snack food.You call those potatoes; you sure they aren’t big peanuts? –Gracie weighs in on the spuds.
In a month where plump pumpkins take center stage, green tomatoes consume counter space faster than we consume them, and wet leaves hitch a ride on unsuspecting soles, I awaited the finale of one of summer’s finest players, my Indian Free peach tree.
