Life in Cowtown

One of the neatest parts of the year is upon us – browsing the gardening catalogues for next seasons’ seeds. Now, I’m the last person to get all excited by catalogues (I have weird Sears associations), and gardening too (it’s a lot of work people), but on a damp and chilly February day there is nothing better than to day dream of summer, sunshine and fresh veggies.

There are several reasons I garden – one is the need to maintain the beautiful flower beds I inherited from the previous owners, two is the desire to learn to grow my own food and increase my independence, three is the desire to learn something new once in a while, four is the incomparable taste of produce straight off the garden bed, and five because I love to eat.

While preparing myself for the first forays into gardening I read a load of books, websites and the like. The great Gardening When It Counts was an invaluable guide into the fascinating world of seeds, from the seed growing market to seed trials which reputable companies perform. I learned seed quality, the many assets of fine seeds and how not to fail at growing them. All of this was not as boring as it may sound as Steve Solomon is an excellent writer and storyteller. He sold me on searching out fine seed varieties NOT the wee plants from your local garden centre and taught me to ensure success.

I turned to Salt Spring Seeds for a vendor because of the great variety of heirloom seeds that they carry and because they provide real taste descriptions not just the catalogue jargon that larger companies have. Then we were hit with the worst summer in history and all my yields were off, but that’s beside the point because my fewer than expected tomatoes kicked the pants off my pro gardener father-in-laws tomatoes. His were fine, but average – like very good supermarket tomatoes. Mine were a revelation. This year I am browsing their site yet again, and suffering from analysis paralysis while I do so, because their offerings are larger than ever.

How do you decide between the ‘taste surprise of 2009’ and ‘picture perfect fruit with rich sweet flavour’? Do I want rich and fruity with some zest or unsurpassed acid but unique and complex flavor? That’s like asking a mother to pick her favorite child. I wish I could grow them all, but in all seriousness I guess I’ll just order way too many seeds and frantically try to find room for the huge plants they will inevitably become.

** By the way the beauty above is Valencia – one of the best tomatoes I’ve ever tasted.

*** Also check out the wonderful idea on organizing your seeds by when they should be started from Old House, Old Garden.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I’m a summer person through and through. I love long days that don’t seem to end, I love seeking shade from the hot sun in the sky, I love how easy it is to get dressed in the mornings what with the not looking for stray mittens, hats, scarves and debating whether a face mask is going too far or not. I love slipping into sandals and not worrying about socks, boots, and cracking your head open on residential roads that never see a plow. I love summer food – the bounty, the abundance, the freshness, the perfect ripeness of a sun warmed strawberry or a tomato.

But I live in a northern land, three thousand feet above sea level, at the foothills of majestic mountains and surrounded by wide prairies. Winter is a fact of life here, and it’s often harsh. Temperatures plunge deeply and without warning, snowfalls bury the city making roads impassable, and winter often lasts beyond all rhyme and reason. This is not a winter from an LL Bean catalogue where families frolic in the sunny meadow building a snowman and sipping hot chocolate. You just know the weather in those photos is hovering just below zero, while you contemplate the arctic parka from Canada Goose while there’s a blizzard outside.  And while always welcome in the winter, Chinooks unleash their own mayhem raising temperatures by thirty degrees in hours turning roads into deep slush piles and melting everything in sight.  In fact, I’ve recently cultivated an appreciation for skiing, to my own surprise, just so that there’s something else to do besides hibernate by the fireplace.

So around here we need the fall, bittersweet that it is, to ease the transition between the summer fun and the bitter short days of winter. We need to feel the shock of that first night below zero and to begin acclimatizing so that in January we can wear a t-shirt on a sunny + 10 day with impunity.  We need to watch the leaves change colors, and bunnies replace their brown summer coats with snow white down. We need to start making stews, chilies and roasts because the oven is just another convenient way to warm the house. It’s like a fireplace only tastier.

Because all too soon we’ll be surprised to see this on our doorstep (only twenty days after our summer high of 32 C), which is nature’s way to dispense with slow acclimatization and just employ some shock therapy on our hides. Just to keep us from getting complacent and all.

 Photos  by my talented friend Warren Sable who actually knows how to use his camera.

We are definitely in the home stretch of fall here in Alberta. We’ve already had some frost warnings and are due for some snow this week, if the weather network is to be believed. To that end I have finally harvested all my tomatoes, peppers and zucchini, ready or not.

In the case of tomatoes and peppers, the answer is definitely not. I still find it shockingly hard to believe that tomatoes that I started in MARCH are still not ripe on the vine. The only logical explanation I can find is that they went into serious hibernation for all of July, growing tall but no more, that and the fact that they’re heirlooms. Cause it can’t be normal to take six months, can it?

Anyway, I lost two tomato plants to blossom end rot, both of them Valencia’s which is quite sad since they are absolutely fantastically delicious. They are like balls of sweet, complex golden sunshine and the few tomatoes that were salvageable were simply the tastiest of them all.  Now I know that they have the least resistance, since no other tomato variety suffered.  So at the end of the day I am left with a few dozen ripening, but far from ready, tomatoes of various shades and sizes. As they ripen I eat them straight out of hand since this seems like a decadent thing to do each day, and is far healthier than any other snack I can think of. Typically a small handful and one or two large ones are waiting for me in the evening, and tonight I need nothing more than a BLT to make my day.

I also have about two dozen peppers, which is actually not a bad amount, given that I only planted three little plants that shivered in the yard, until the sheltering bulk of zucchini covered them from the wind. And the last two squashes – one large and perfect for stuffing, and one small and tender, great for a quick stir-fry.

Now all that’s left to do is garden clean-up. And eating. And dreaming of next years’ garden. Cause after a summer like this one, it’s gotta be all uphill.