Digging for Garlic – White Gold

This year’s garlic harvest is in.  It‘s always a bit of magic when the spade brings to light the seed I planted in the fall.  From singular cloves come beautiful heads of garlic ready to enhance my cooking and that of others.  Trim the stalks and brush their smooth skins – a ritual I never tire of.  Then off to the racks of our root cellar (actually a former darkroom) where they will cure on racks.  Typically the harvest will last until mid spring if stored correctly.

We use garlic liberally, often pressing an entire bulb and storing it in a container for use during the week.  When I was a young cook I used to follow recipes that called for a clove or two of garlic. I could never taste the difference.  If you want some pizzazz to your cuisine, be generous 5 or 6 depending on the size of your cloves. Trust your taste buds.

Over many years none of our acquaintances- even my closest friends have ever complained to me of garlic breath.  A good tooth brushing will take care of that!

For more about my garlic obsession, see

The Art of Growing Garlic

          &

Tis the Season of Garlic Scapes

Of Garlic

Plant cloves come fall

Dig bulbs midsummer

Spicy, pungent warmth

Dazzle my senses through spring

The Day Before Halloween

 I was out in the garden today “putting it to bed “ for the winter.  It’s good work on a chilly autumn day.  I looked up at the sky and the colorful leaves and said to myself “this day deserves a poem- just do it” so I dashed off to the house in search of a notebook and pen.  Sometimes you just have to pause, be amazed, and write about it!

 

Putting the Garden to Bed

Under an intense blue sky

My garden disappearsimg_3033

with each whack of the machete

As I work I discover monstrous cucumbers

Submerged in dying vines like green submarines

And overlooked onions hiding below the straw

The parsnips pull out of the ground reluctantly as always

Sadly too mature to be good eating

As my armloads of spent foliage build up the compost pile

I sigh with memories of sweet tomatoes

And savory salads

I leave the dried heads of the sunflowers standing

For the chickadees’ delight