This week is Thanksgiving in America. In the spirit of the harvest festival, I'd like to turn the blog over to my husband who is the principal gardener in the family, with a big thank you for providing me with fresh vegetables from which to cook delicious meals.
Jess gives me too much credit, she helps too, except when she adds pieces of plastic to the composter.
Storage Method: Sadly Jess and I failed to store them properly. Generally we can eat as much as we harvest, but we ended up losing some beans to rot before we could eat them. In the future, we should salt them for better storage. But the trick is you must salt beans when young and tender, otherwise bad things happen. I've also been told a pickled bean is worthwhile, but we have yet to pickle any of ours.
Storage Method: As anyone worth their salt knows, beets are stored best in a cool, dark place, preferably in moist sand. Dust any dirt off of them first but don't wash them in water before storing - only a sucker would be so foolish. If sand is not an option, consider putting them in a cooler in a cool closet. They'll store for months like that.
Storage: Sadly, I have to confess ignorance here folks. We stored ours in the crisper and they kept long enough to be consumed (or in my case disgruntledly ingested)
Storage: Obviously tomatoes don't keep too long. Interesting fact about store bought tomatoes and how they solve the tomato storage problem: Almost all store-bought tomatoes come from Florida or California, and big farms have genetically modified them to be harvested whilst green and hard as a baseball. This allows ease of transport to destination, where they are often treated with a chemical to turn them red and stuck on a shelf to look like they are fresh. That's not only depressing to think about, but to taste too. Jess and I've gotten to the point we can barely eat tomatoes bought at the store. They have as much flavor as Al Gore circa 2000 (I'm talking the time when he had as much personality as a toaster, not this post Inconvenient Truth Al Gore who has clearly, like Phil Collins, been captured by aliens and returned to earth in a martian pod that is made only to look but not act like Al Gore). Anyways, our delicious, fresh garden tomatoes are best eaten while fresh. We lost some because of failure to can quick enough, but when we got around to canning, it turned out to be a fun experience. Thanks to one Yvonne (a woman who knows a thing or two about farming as she grew up on a Canadian farm with her 11 - not a typo - siblings) who taught Jess and I a thing or two about canning.
Storage: Obviously a clamp is the best method of storing potatoes, but we didn't have enough to warrant the clamp - which sounds kinda dirty so maybe it was for the best- so we just stored them in a cool, dark pantry in a wooden box. They kept until we ate them and they lasted just in time for the fall turnip crop to arrive. Segue...
Name: Turnip. A pretty veggie no doubt, You will see that my turnips have a big purple top, which was the result of me planting them a little too high. Luckily this won't hurt them, but turnips get purple wherever the sun hits them, which is why mine pop with so much color this year. The turnips have been great, our harvest proved one of the more bountiful of any crop this side of the green bean. Turnips also have the added benefit of having an edible green, if you like something as bitter and intolerable as an ex-spouse. We tried the greens, once, and Jess refused to make them again. I didn't think they were that bad, certainly not as bad as brussels sprouts, but I did have to admit they were not that good. Ever since the great turnip green incident of fall 2011, the chickens have been the recipient of all the greens from the garden. Oh, and the dogs got some too (see Jess' previous post).
Storage: Turnips are best stored in a cool, dark place, much like tomatoes. Straw is a preferred method of storage. I have mine, as you can see, in wooden crates tucked in a dark corner of the pantry. They've been in there for about a month and are keeping pretty well. They get a hint dried out. I have yet to notice. That might be the kitchen-talents of my lovely wife, I'm not sure.
Not Pictured: Corn, carrots, pumpkins (which met an untimely end), peas, and probably something else I am forgetting.