I’ve decided, looking at the backyard gardens of others, that I am not maximizing my planting box space as I could be.  I like things orderly – a shock to any childhood friends (hell, post-college too!) reading this, I know – but I think that’s causing me to waste a great deal of space.  Peppers, for instance, do get rather bushy when mature, but really only at the crown, the foliage tapers to a few leaves about midway down the plant.  So there’s space under them for things like carrots, onions, chives.   The same is true for tomatoes, and even some bush beans.  So I’m revisiting the boxes, planting a few rows of carrots here and there, sowing a few onions.  These things we’re growing don’t have to be in straight orderly beds, they can be tucked in anywhere you have a little extra space, curved between two plants, zig zagged, whatever fits.  Nor do the crops have to be especially laaarge.  A few rows here and there will keep you in carrots and onions for weeks.

That said, can someone please explain to me why I have thought it necessary (with EIGHT tomato plants already blooming/fruiting, three more almost there, and six others just sprouted) to start yet another EIGHT MORE varieties, as well as FOUR MORE pots (2 seeds each sowed for all, and I DON’T thin, people) of the Campbell’s tomatoes??  Just where do I plan to grow all these things…on the frickin’ roof?

Would that I could, people.  Would that I could.

Here, have a pic I inadvertently left out of yesterday’s epic, of some really-needs-to-get-planted-soon Cosmos (shot with my beloved 105mm lens) while I contemplate where to put 24 more frickin’ tomato plants:

Oh, and the very best part??  I’M THE ONLY ONE IN THIS FAMILY WHO FREAKING EATS TOMATOES.

*sigh*

I have craved ranchero sauce ever since we left the beach.  Since tonight’s dinner was deemed to be tacos, and I utterly despise the packaged seasoning we usually use, I decided to whap together a batch of ranchero sauce instead.  

Ranchero Sauce

Ingredients

• 4 tomatoes
• 1 white onion
• 1 jalapeno
• the holy trinity (kosher salt, peper, garlic powder)

Blanch the tomatoes in boiling water, then shock them in icy water, yes, all in the name of peeling off the skins.  Dice them as you prefer, fine or rough.  

Finely dice the jalapeno and the white onion.  Sautee these in olive oil with a healthy couple of pinches of kosher salt, as much black pepper as you can stand, and a tbsp or two of garlic powder.  When the onions become transparent, add the diced tomatoes.

Now, to render an actual ranchero sauce, I’d say cook this for about an hour.  However, if you’re starving, the family is already at table, and you can’t stop licking the spoon with which you’re stirring, go on and serve some of that up when the tomatoes get soft (about 15 minutes at a fast simmer).  You can always cook it on down to sauce consistency later.

I had mine atop holy trinity/olive oil-sauteed chicken in taco shells with sour cream and shredded lettuce, and it was divine.  I imagine you could serve it atop just about anything you liked…meatloaf, green beans, etc.  

Just one more data point in the case for Simple is Best.

UPDATE:  Can’t. Stop. Eating. The. Sauce.

The daylilies out front went mad this winter, tripled and quadrupled themselves, so I decreed the front bed around the crape myrtle be QUINTUPLED in size.  That’ll show ‘em.
 

Yeah, it’s huge.  It’s also shaped, inexplicably, like an egg.  

Out back finds the tomatoes ready for transplanting.  They go in pots inside the enclosure, of course, because tomato cutworms are pure lime-green evil. 
 

The tomatoes are also surrounded by multiple basil plants, since whiteflies really suck (heh), and companion planting lore has it that basil can be quite the deterrent.  Plus, when things start to ripen, pluck tomato, pluck basil leaf, wrap together and nom right there.
 

We filled the new boxes with some good soil and the contents of our compost bin (hurrah!), and transplanted the melon starts:
 

While at Lowe’s picking up basil plants (yeah, I have seeds, but I was ready to PLANT, dammit) I ran across these nice-sized Sequoia and Quinault strawberries, snapped up a dozen and a half, and they’re going along the fronts of all the melon boxes:
 

The cucumber box, too:
 

The melons will grow from hills in one end of the box, down to the lower end of the box (hence the arrows), and as the pepper plants mature, I’ll be putting a few of them in between the vines.  Later when it’s bean planting time, we’ll just place the tripods around the vines and let the beans go on up and do their things.  When you’re space-restricted like we are, you gotta go vertical.

The tree nursery is coming along.  Husband transplanted the volunteer maples into the box with the being-nursed-back-to-health pomegranate (suffering from too much frost and too much kitty attention):
 

Speaking of kitties…here’s Oliver, still sporting his shaved leg, supervising the entire proceedings from a place of shade and comfort:
 

He climbs in those pots I’m going to use HIM for mulch.

*It’s a Twitter joke, not a misspelling, I promise.

Tennis Ball lettuce + two kinds of spinach + Mr. Stripey tomatoes + Napoli carrots

= a fine salad indeed.

Well, it looks like this garden doesn’t give a rat’s arse about winter…
 

That’s snow peas in the back, Belgian White and Dragon Purple carrots on the left, and Kailan (Chinese Broccoli) on the right.  Oh, and in the foreground, a pot of Napoli carrots that we’ve been harvesting a few at a time these past few weeks.
 

It could just be because they’re homegrown, but those are the sweetest carrots you’ve ever tasted.  And when the kids fight over who gets first pickings from the garden…WIN!

These pepper plants are seriously confused about their milieu…someone should tell them they’re hot weather plants!  On the left, the Marconi just keeps on fruiting AND flowering.
 

The Romanesco cauliflower just keeps getting bigger:
 

The tennis ball lettuce is going nuts, and we just can’t wait for it to head, we’re going to have to scissor harvest NOW and just let it grow up again:
 

You can’t tell the citrus trees that it’s time to stop growing…that’s 21 blooms on one stem on the Meyer lemon there:
 

The Mr. Stripey tomato is fruiting like crazy.  Granted the fruits are ripening at about 1/3 the size they should be but let me tell you that does NOT adversely affect the taste!
 

And finally, one of the strawflowers I brought up from seed this summer has finally decided to bloom, and what a bloom it is!
 

So yeah, our December is going GREAT, how about yours?

We know what a problem I have even thinning new sprouts, so they’re just going to have to crawl on up the fence and be gorgeous for the rest of the summer. We just won’t eat ‘em.

The San Marzano tomatoes are driving me to distraction, with their pear shapes and stolid refusal to TURN RED, DAMMIT:

Seriously. Do they not know I have spaghetti sauce to make?

My Gioia della Mensas are ripening like crazy…but the oddly-timed rainfall we get as we crank into the rainy season is giving it the splits:

It’s uneven watering that does that to your tomatoes, by the way. The tomato is already at full growth when the extra watering comes along, and it tries to absorb it and cracks open instead. Still completely edible, just whack of the ugly bits.

The Bachelor’s Buttons (Centaurea cyanus) started from seed way back when are finally blooming:

I just can’t stop taking pictures of the Salvia greggii.

It must be that particular shade of pink (which I ordinarily would disdain) against the vivid green leaves. Wonderful!

Likewise I can’t stop photographing the Purple Coneflowers (echinacea purpurea):

And it’s that same dang pink-y color I just don’t like anywhere else. I suppose it’s the flower shape here. And the amazing spiky centers. And the way it changes as it matures.

I’ve a dirty little secret, and may get me branded as a plant snob, but I have never liked marigolds. Oh, I’ll plant them because they’re a helping hand in discouraging some types of insect pests, but I’ve never really cared for the simplicity of them, I suppose. That and they’re dead common, can be found anywhere/anytime. But there’s as many marigold varieties are there are marigold petals, you just have to find the seeds somewhere and start them up, don’t rely on your local garden center (unless they totally rawk). Husband loves marigolds, so this year we have about five varieties going around here, from the plain old Burpee marigolds to unusual varieties like Golden Gate, Jolly Jester, Jaguar, and my new favorite, the Queen Sophia (Tagetes patula):

It GLOWS in the sunlight, making an eye-popping contrast against the medium green of its foliage. This year, marigolds are a specific joy, not just a habit-planting.

This black and blue salvia (Salvia guaranitica) is another plant I’ve underappreciated:

Despite its propensity for dropping old blooms/leaves in our pool the color contrast on this plant is gorgeous. I suppose black leaves/blooms are fascinating because that color usually means we’ve screwed up, and something is Going To Die. I have to keep watching it to make sure it lives, clearly!

It is a wonder I get any work done, I could walk around outside looking at these things all day.

The Gioia della Mensa tomato plant hopes we like tomatoes…because it plans on ripening about a dozen all at once.

“Gioia della Mensa” means “Jewel of the Table” in Italian and it is indeed one of the tastiest fresh tomatoes I have ever had. Growitalian.com usually has the seeds, I see they’re out of stock already. Looks like I need to be keeping seeds then, eh? If anyone wants some, give me a shout.

Dreaming of Dirt posted about growing herbs the other day, to which I commented:

The secret to herb growing… Plant them and stand back very quickly. And don’t have anything you want to see on a regular basis planted or standing nearby…statuary, other plants, dogs, kids, etc.

Cos it’s true. Herbs are just weeds with benefits, and since I live in one of the most fertile places in the world, I grow all our herbs in pots.

That’s right, my pretties, no dirt-growing for you. Time to harvest the oregano and rosemary I see.

And the sage and basil:

And the thyme:

The dwarf fig tree looks happy, doesn’t it?

If I were less in love with the birdhouse gourd, I would totally not let it climb my pool enclosure.

But I am, and so it does.

Here is the answer to the round cage or triangle-shaped cage debate:

This is a pair of lemon cuke plants trying to climb my house. And they’re apparently taking the triangle-shaped cage with them. So, round for things that need actual support, triangle for things like tomatoes, that just need gentle guidance.

Have a look at this:

Know what that is? Yep, it’s about fourteen square feet of watermelon vines. Watermelon vines that were supposed to get all of 3 1/2 feet long. Told you we live in Fertile Valley.

Watermelony goodness up close:

That one is about the size of a largish coconut.

Of all the new plantings we’ve done, this one is my favorite (so far):

It’s the symmetry, of course. I am a graphic artist to the bone, and will always respond to formal layouts. That’s two birds of paradise, one spider iris (won’t even sprout until fall), and three Queen Sophia marigolds.

Here’s the very first draft of the new side bed:

The “border” is purely temporary, just to delineate planting spaces. It will be set up to match the front bed (tall vertical stones) in the Big Push after we return from vacation. All the dark spots are where the cannas were planted yesterday. And the buggers are already sending up shoots:

The cannas join the hibiscus and shell ginger (Alpinia zerumbet):

The Snow-on-the-Mountain (Breynia disticha):

And the Hawaiian Tis (Cordyline fruticosa)…which I forgot to take a picture of, naturally.

And I have a plethora of flower seeds started to fill in the spaces in front of all this:

Poppies of several varieties, Golden Gate marigolds, Coreopsis, Columbine, Texas Bluebonnets, Honeywort, Foxglove, Zebrina Hollyhocks, Maltese Cross, Love-in-a-Mist, China Asters, Nicandra…

My ambition is zero grass to mow, can you tell?

Finally, here’s your (with apologies to the original) Daily Oliver:

By the way, the O-boy is not named for that statuesque Weimaraner, but rather for Richard Hammond’s 1963 Opal Kadett, the car he drove (and apparently fell in love with hard enough to ship it home to Britain) in Top Gear‘s African Adventure episode. In a pivotal (ha!) scene, Hammond attempts to drive the Opal across a seemingly shallow stream, only to find it not so shallow. His heartrending cry of “Olivahhhhh!!” as the Opal’s nose sank beneath the murk apparently resonated with the Boychild as that was the first thing out of his mouth when he saw the bebe kitty’s picture. So, Oliver it is, partly because telling that story is SO much fun.

Now you know, and knowing is half the battle. Er, go Joe!

Innnyway… Today let’s have some wide angle shots, see what the big picture looks like.

The tomatoes are killing me, really. They were started indoors in peat pots Feb 3 (thank you garden journal!) and they are now officially frickin’ huge. Observe:

And today, the sungolds finally started turning yellow, woo!

The parisian pickling cucumber is much happier inside the enclosure with the tomatoes. You can see why it was moved in on the lefthand leaves there :

The other tomatoes, the San Marzanos, are doing amazingly well. Look at the size of this trunk, wouldja?

Yes, Caitlin, those are new wedding rings. The silver ones made by Connie were so wide they irritated the skin underneath, we had to constantly take them off. These are titanium, so, y’know if we ever get caught in an undersea oil drilling rig, we’ll be ok.

Outside the pool enclosure, it’s a world gone mad. It apparently rained a couple of inches last night, and the plantsies expressed their thanks with explosive growth:

The daikon radish, planted (as you can see from the tag) three whole days ago, have sprouted:

And I’ve officially changed the name of Box #4 to The Nursery Box:

Bet you can’t guess why.

The red bell and poblano peppers still taunt me with blooms:

The lemon cucumbers look like they are sturdy enough to be used as building materials:

Which is good because they’re planted right next to this monster of a zucchini:

Don’t take this personally, little buddy, but I’m really looking forward to when I can sautee your little green ass with red bell pepper, onion, olive oil and thyme…

The Second Slowest Tomato seems to also have enjoyed the rain. And the criticism:

The Slowest Tomato Evar is still taking his sweet frickin’ time:

Out front, the zinnias are doing their thing, namely growing tall enough to hide the ugly-ass power boxes:

And the front plants are filling in nicely. The canna lilies there in the middle have Gone Mad, growing easily a half a foot since they’ve been planted. Everything behind them is *supposed* to be taller, but the sodding roses and delphinium seem to have joined the same union as the Slowest Tomato Evar. No growth without equality! Need to hire me some muscle.

And finally, here are all the newly planted seedlings that will nicely fill in that area behind the crepe myrtle, and (hopefully) stave off further fountain grass invasion:

Whew. Posting about gardening is almost as hard as actually doing it. Nappytime.

Seeing as how they were plain old red grocery-store radishes, we thought we’d do something a bit more exotic, and in their place today I planted daikon radish and helios radish seed instead. Daikon is a Japanese staple, that shredded white stuff you see as garnish on your sushi plate. Very tasty. The helios should be a bit sweeter than your average radish, and sweet/hot is my very favorite flavor.

Hey, remember those two tomatoes I planted in the garden boxes (as opposed to inside the enclosure in pots)?

And his friend:

2 lbs ripe tomatoes, peeled and seeded (or 3 14oz cans of diced tomatoes)

1 small onion, finely chopped (or if your husband is allergic to them, as mine is (*sob), 4 tbsp dehydrated onions)

1 tbsp butter

1 tbsp brown sugar

1 bay leaf

2 tsp fresh basil, finely chopped (or 1 tsp dried)

1 tsp kosher salt

1 tsp black pepper

1 cup milk

1 pint light cream

In a heavy, deep saucepan (I love my Calphalon for this), saute the onion in the butter until golden and fragrant. Add the tomatoes and all the dry stuff. Simmer for about 25-30 minutes, stirring every 5 minutes or so.

Remove the pot from the heat, fish out the bay leaf, and attack the soup with your stick blender (carefully, dammit, it’s hot). You’re aiming for a pretty fine texture, bisque should have a smooth mouthfeel.

Return the pot to the heat and add the milk and cream. Bring the soup back to “hot,” stirring constantly so Nothing Bad Happens. Serve immediately, garnished as you like…top with a bit of grated Italian cheese (something mild, forgodsakes), croutons, mozzarella toasted French bread rounds, etc. etc.

We had ours with grilled cheese sandwiches (which sent our 10 year old son into raptures), but it’d go well with bruschetta, or any old sandwich, hot or cold. We even have a plan to leave out half the cream and milk and turn this recipe into a pasta sauce…imagine it on penne with sundried tomatoes and garlic sautéed shrimp. (*drool*)