Ode to Cilantro

Oh, lovely green lacy leaves of spring.

Scented like lemons, giving rise to salsa so delightful and fresh, after a long winter of overprocessed, overcooked varieties.

Versatile, yet distinguished.  Mild, yet essential. Irreplaceable, yet.....unloved?

Do you know there is an "I Hate Cilantro" web site?  Who are these people?  Why are they so moved to create a movement?

As a cilantro fan, it is hard to understand.  The delicate, underlying brightness adds the "salsa" to salsa.  Thrown into an asian noodle dish, it intensifies the identity of all of the ingredients. Used in a marinade, the citrus factor is boosted.  Go crazy, throw it in a salad, even make a pesto!

Yet, most often, what I hear it compared to is, gasp, soap!  Which of course makes me think of those naughty-mouthed children who were threatened with this punishment in my youth (I never suffered this fate, thank you mom and dad!).  So, for all you haters out there, consider a unique feature of this inimitable herb.....chelation!!  Apparently, this little powerhouse can be effective at carrying heavy metal accumulations out of your body.  Think back to Jeremy Piven, and you get the idea.

And one more reason to fall in love...reseeding!

Last year, I left a few cilantro plants to their own devices after they went to seed (by the way, the seed is also a spice, known as coriander!).  After overwintering in my raised beds, lo and behold, the seeds germinated and I have a cilantro forest! Effortless, except for the thinning needed to help it along.

So, put together a little salsa, and work on your relationship together.

Detox Salsa:

1 large can plum tomatoes (for extra flavor, try fire roasted variety)

1 small red onion, minced

juice of 1 lime

1 minced jalapeno (I like to fire-grill mine, pop in freezer, then take out as needed)

handful of cilantro

salt and pepper to taste

Toss all ingredients in a food processor.  Process lightly.

Met her match, met his maker

Warning:  This story does not end well.  Maybe the title gives it away.  Two weeks ago, we encountered quite an exciting predator/prey moment, while doing a little weeding.  Now, as a gardener, I get a  little excited about encountering a "farmer's friend" in my midst.  And over the last few years, I have found a few.  Each one, I carefully protect and place in a safe zone within the garden boundary.  But this situation had me wondering, trying to make a value judgement......which is a better "friend" (i.e. more beneficial to the garden)?Let me tell you, regardless of the answer to the question, I was rooting for the toad.  He was quite accepting of his fate, not struggling, not panicking, rather resigned.  He gets the sympathy vote.  On one hand, snakes need to eat too.  But, can't they pick on some invertebrate, and leave the amphibians alone? Toads bring alot of joy to this house.  We often find them on warm summer nights, strategically positioned beneath an outdoor light, waiting for the right bug to low-fly past them, so that they can unfold that preposterously long tongue, flick, stick, and gulp down dinner.  So, in the battle at hand, the toad lost.  The lump slowly moved downward.....

One happy and satiated snake was the result.  

But as I warned you, it does not end well, or end there.  Last night, beside the driveway, a gruesome discovery.......there lay the snake, upside down and open-mouthed.  Quite dead.  So, in all, I lost two friends of my garden.  Hopefully, they left some kind of legacy.

Not a boring old radish

I am worried that you will pre-judge a post on radishes.  Stop yourself.  This may just change your opinion, if you give it a chance.  I, too, put radishes in the category of "filler" for iceberg salads at overpriced lackluster restaurants.  But not these pretty little babies:

You might notice a few things right away:  Dirt!  Yes, they are fresh.  Seems to make a difference.  Pull them straight out of the garden, and that in itself ups the flavor quotient. Tapered instead of round?  Bingo.  Must be a french thing.  A little red, a little white?  Hmmm, you're good at this!

I planted radishes for the very first time this year. Really, just out of curiosity.   Who can resist a description of a slightly toasted baguette slice, topped with European butter, french radish shavings, and sprinkled ever-so-lightly with fleur de sel?  It was good, just ask my nephew.  (He even asked for seconds!)

Better yet, they are known as a fast plant.  Quick turn around from seed to fruit.  Remember the part in the last post about not being patient?  You, then, will see the appeal.  The  science teacher in me knows that a radish makes a great biology lesson.  I've used them for seed germination, experiments in allelopathy, and just for "watch how a plant grows" exercises. Pretty cool, all in all.   Tasty though?  I think not.

But, the gourmet trapped inside of me longed for more meaning. Am I missing something?  Do people really like these little red devils, or just merely tolerate them?  My first attempt in the kitchen was delightful - A spring salad!  Think spicy spring greens (I love arugula!), creamy avocado slices, and the french radish:

The perfect dressing?  Please don't say store bought.  Try whipping one together yourself first.  Do you have red wine vinegar, dijon mustard, salt and pepper, olive oil?  Done.  You will not turn back.   Variations on this are fun, and limitless.  Try adding a little honey.  Or jam.  Or flavored vinegar.  Or fresh herbs.  Oh, how about garlic?  And if lack of measuring scares you, this is your chance to break through your fears.  The only rule is to mix everything else together first, then add the oil.  You will slowly stream it into the rest, while whisking.  Not hard, really.  And so rewarding!

But before I sign off on radishes, I need to tell you about my dinner plans.  Come closer........French Radish Leaves Soup!  Yes, you heard it right.  It sounds so....well...French, but alas, it is Polish!   And no, I haven't yet tried it, but I am game.  Did I tell you I am a recently converted radish aficionado?  I will let you know how it goes.  

Signs of Spring

Phallic signs of spring have awakened from the fertile ditches that are now three years in the making.  Who knew how fast they would grow?  One morning, just purple swollen tips protrude, but hours later, they have reached mid-shin.  This is the year to eat!

Three summers ago, just 6 short months after purchasing this little slice of country living, we decided on asparagus as a house-warming gift to ourselves.  We are not patient.  We have waited, whined, weeded, and wondered when we would finally harvest.  (whew, that's alot of w's!)  All the gardening wisdom uncovered said WAIT.  Wait 3 years.  Then harvest. So, we did.  And guess what?  This year, yes this 3rd year, I find out we didn't need to wait.  Turns out,  you can even increase your yield by picking sooner.  Arrgghh.  But, we are stronger people now, I tell myself.

So far, we have tried steamed, roasted, sauteed, and dipped.  But, the winner has been the soup.  Cream of asparagus soup sounds icky.  I imagine threads of slimy overcooked stalks winding through the gaps between my teeth as I wince through a slurp.  Not so.  An alchemy that is unexpected but subtle and nice. Kind of cream of broccoli-ish, but only better.  You'd almost think someone had snuck a hunk of nicely aged cheese into the soup.  Don't let the name fool you.  Oh, and you've got to hand it to the King of Kitchen soup-making, the immersion blender.  I'm not sure how one does without this little magic stick.  I was looking for the simplest set of ingredients, and found this recipe to be spot on.

Already the patch is showing signs of slimming down.  Lets hope we can eek out another batch of this, before letting those overachieving little tips leaf out.  It is said that they must be left to fern out once the diameter gets too skinny, so they can spend the summer stashing the sun's energy for next year's harvest.  I'll never look at grocery store asparagus the same way again!