Hazelnuts

Just harvested hazelnuts (Oct. 2011)

Richard’s dad, Roy, was reminiscing yesterday about eating nuts on Christmas Day when he was growing up. So after some searching, we found the nutcracker that I was sure I had and dug into our first crop of filberts (or hazelnuts) after dinner last night.

The nuts were small, as we planted the species, rather than an “improved” variety, but delicious.

Other benefits: Filberts are easy to grow, requiring no maintenance other than occasionally cutting back some of the suckers from the base. The nuts mature in September, and by Oct., the leaves glow with striking shades of maroon, red and orange, making them high on my list of edible landscape crops. Some grow them as a small tree. We allow them to sucker – less work! – and grow as a large shrub.

Hazelnut leaves in October

We’ve been clearing out some of the pines behind the house this winter, opening up the woods edge, and plan to fill in with small nut trees and berry shrubs. More filberts will definitely be among them. But I’m counting on the squirrels and chipmunks to help repopulate this native plant throughout the area with the portion of their cache they neglect to dig up. All we’ll need to do is find them and share in the harvest.

Greening December

One half of the mid-December hoop house

Now that I'm getting the hang of winter gardening, we have more greens than we need -- so I have my first customer, my next door neighbor Marlaine. She emailed recently: "You grow the best greens in Tompkins County. I am totally addicted. One bite and I'm in heaven."

Packaged to share

I'm still amazed at how few farmers and homeowners are producing winter greens, but I expect a completely different scenario within the decade. As the myth that we can't produce food in the Northeast during the coldest, darkest months is eroded by the evidence that we can, I know we'll see more of this.

Solstice Spinach (Dec. 21)

In fact, I initially wondered if the high tunnel was a novel luxury (the low-tunnels we used at first cost almost nothing to erect), but as we continue to harvest more than 3 pounds of greens each week for salads and braising, it's clear that it will more than pay for itself. And that doesn't account for the incomparable sweetness of winter-grown greens, picked moments before cooking them.

Spicy mustard greens (Dec. 16)

Lunch (Dec. 13)

Blue Hubbard

Butternut, Blue Hubbard, pumpkin harvest (Oct. 2011)

I grew Blue Hubbard squash this year for the first time. My only previous encounter with this large winter squash was about 30 years ago, when a housemate in a vegetarian co-op I was living in at the time stuffed a Blue Hubbard squash instead of a turkey for Thanksgiving. My memory was of a huge, unattractive gourd that filled the center of the table and required a dozen people to consume.

Growing, growing, growing .... the blue-grey color comes only as the squash matures and the exterior hardens (Aug. 2011)

But I read in the Fedco seed catalog last winter that Blue Hubbards, grown around the perimeter of a squash bed, serves as a trap crop for squash beetles, protecting the plants on the interior. The beetles did seem to prefer the large Blue Hubbard blossoms, making it easier to hand-pick them. And huge they are. – both the vigorous plant which snaked it’s way across the yard, and its massive fruit. But I would continue to grow it regardless. The ugly exterior hides gorgeous orange flesh as sweet and tasty as Butternut.

And in terms of quantity of food for the winter, Blue Hubbard is a boon. I forgot to weigh the largest of the squashes before we cut it up and baked it, but we had 7 pounds of edible flesh when we were done. As for the dozen people I thought we’d need to eat it – we simply mashed and froze it in reasonable sized containers.

Arriving home

Arriving home

Richard finished mulching in the hole he has been digging in the former driveway. After months of teasing him about trying to dig up the old driveway by hand, I have to admit, the new entrance to house is beautiful. The back part of the bed, formerly lawn and planted 2 years ago has a peach tree and quince, as well as mums, day lilies, and an evergreen juniper. The front part of the bed will be ready to plan in the spring. And the large stone at right: a piece of shale too large to move, levered onto its end. It serves as both a natural sculpture and a heat sink.

Digging holes and laying paths (June 2011)

Meanwhile, it's fun to compare the new entrance with a photo from 7 years ago. The former driveway is just visible in the lower right corner.