Tomato Plant Learning Curves

I learned a new word today: indeterminate. Apparently, my tomato plants are of the indeterminate variety!

Who knew?

Let me back up.

I have some beautiful tomato plants. Hardly a day goes by when I'm not on the porch, checking these suckers out, giving them a wink, and a "How you doin?"

I grew them from seed. They're tall, bushy, and leafy, they dance in the breeze, and they cast some decent shade.

They're a sham.

Not one tomato from these gorgeous tomato plants.

I gave them some time, some space, thinking surely they'd come around, they were just a little slow. I was patient. I was kind.

I was wrong.

Determinant plants are those which grow to a certain size, and then stop. This is why they're also referred to as "bush" tomatoes. They grow their fruit, and then die. They do well in containers. They would have been perfect on my porch...

 Indeterminate plants, on the other hand, just keep growing and growing... and growing. They are also called "vining" tomatoes, and can reach up to TEN FEET TALL. They require substantial support and are not generally recommended for smaller spaces.

*palm slaps face*

All those little words on the back of the seed packets have such big implications... don't choose tomato varieties based on the name... (I'm looking at you, Mortgage Lifter!)

My tomato plants have been solely focused on the growing part of life that they haven't had time for the blossoming and fruiting and traditional-nom-nom-tomato growing part of life.

So today, we pruned.

I picked two good stems on each plant, ones that were healthy and strong, with good little leafys, and the rest...

*draws finger across throat*

It's for the good of the plant, guys...

Though we're kind of back to the heartless plant killing feelings I detailed over here...

On the up side, my cucumbers are thriving. I've started two other vines, and they're winding their way all over the place!

We had some new friends move into one of the basil plants while we were out of town...

And I harvested a ton of lettuce, kale, and chard!

I started some more seeds a few weeks ago to see if we could get another harvest, and one of the lettuces and a few chards are still living, so that's a win.

I started a new basil too, to replace the one the doves overthrew. Can we call this coup a "coo"?

...

Ha...

(Like our little repurposed seed-starting container there? Drilled a few holes in the bottom, used the lid to catch extra water run-off... Gorgeous. Green. Thrifty. Please forgive my terrible pun from a moment ago...)

We also harvested the tiniest beet of all time...

And the saddest bell pepper (it's the one of the left... the one on the right I got at the store for $1.50. Ugh.)

Oh, I can now definitively say that the lavender is quite, quite dead. Remember kids, lavendar does not love water as much as you think it loves water. Treat it like rosemary. DON'T OVERWATER!)

BUT the wheatgrass is going strong! There's an entire post dedicated to that coming soon.

So, with our tomatoes pruned, our lavender dead, and our basil overthrown, we head into the Dog Days of Summer, with hopes and grand aspirations of a forthcoming harvest. Aren't learning curves fun?

Infinite Onions and A Garden Update

I have been woefully lax in my garden updates!

Not only have we enjoyed our first lettuce harvest,

 (I grew a SALAD!)

but when we got back from a visiting-family-vacation, my cucumber plant had gone from this...

to THIS behemoth!

I know. I'm so proud.

The garden has had a variety of visitors, including this little critter who likes to hide under the cucumber leaves...

Aaaaaand, while we were gone, my dill bolted. I would mind more, but it's awfully pretty to look at.

Before we left, I started a green onion re-growing experiment. We had some green onions we were using in a stir-fry, but as is so often the case, I used a rather small proportion of them.

I'd read that you could actually re-grow them and have infinite, Buzz Lightyear style green onions, totally eliminating the need to keep buying them every time you only needed one or two stalks!

Count. Me. In.

So, I plopped them into a mason jar and kept them on my counter, with full intentions of rinsing the roots and changing the water every day or two, as in ever-wise internet had instructed.

(See the cute, trimmed ones?)

 Once the roots were more established, the onions would be ready to take up permanent residence with the rest of my beauties outside!

...and then we went out of town... and I forgot about my onions...

And this is what I came back to.

Well, I guess you could say in part that the experiment worked!

The onions grow!

Infinite onions for everyone!

However, mine got pretty gross, what with rotting roots and escaping tendrils, so they had to be tossed. (Make them fly, Mommy!)

To be continued another day, I suppose!

Pesky Pest (or Pets!) Spray

Something's been eating my plants...

And it's not me.

Poor peppers...

I was looking through pest control options, and everything out there is all chemically, or mostly chemically, or processed, or "one beeeellion dollars."

So, naturally, I decided to make my own.

I knew I wanted a spray, and it needed to be something that would both deter pesky pests (and pets) while not damaging my plants or making them un-harvestable.

I would still like to eat this stuff.

After perusing my options, I concocted a combination of condiments.

I gathered my spray bottle, garlic, and chili powder.

Happy, earth friendly, all natural chili powder, obviously.

I steeped a tablespoon of chili powder along with the garlic in water for a few hours.

Oh, hello there!

Then I ran the liquid through a cheesecloth lined, fine-mesh strainer to get the solids out, and filled my spray bottle, adding a tablespoon of biodegradable liquid soap (Seventh Generation, if you must know).

Then we took it to the mattresses...

Or, to the porch, in this case.

Yeah, we see you cat... waiting to make your move...

The spray bubbled more than expected, but coated the leaves nicely, and dried clear. 

A few weeks later, and my plants are decidedly less nibbled upon. I actually witnessed a certain cat, who shall remain nameless, try to nom upon one, pull a terrible face, and continue on his merry little way. So, I call that success. 

Turns out the cats were my main culprits, so by coating the leaves within their reach, I've cut down on their crunching, and given my plant babies a chance to grow.

Full disclosure, though, it did discolor my leaves, so maybe not the best option for an edible, like lettuce. The cats were uninterested in the lettuce, though, so that required no spraying...

The actual recipe for the spray was...

3 cups water

1 T chili powder

5 cloves garlic

Steep for 2-3 hours.

Strain out solids.

Mix in 1 T liquid, biodegradable dish soap, and add a few drops of orange or lemon essential oils if you have them on hand (I did not).

Spray away! (Though aim for the early morning or evening. Doing it in the heat of the day can burn those tender little leaves. Bad plan.)

Sun Tea, a Southern Revelation

Today, I made sun tea for the first time.

In my mind, sun tea is one of those classically Southern pastimes that I was not privy to growing up. My family transplanted from Florida, and are not native Southerners. Our family dinners included more Asian influence than Southern flare, and none of our relatives are even in the state. I've picked up some traits over the years though, and don't know what Northerners do without "y'all" in their vocabulary.

So when I stumbled across an old magazine article from Southern Living detailing the delights of sun tea, I knew I had to give it a shot. Nobody wants to boil a kettle when it's ninety degrees outside, but variety is the spice of life, and plain ol' tap water gets old pretty quickly...

Plus, it seems like something Laura would've done... though she was more likely to accidentally knock over the pitcher than watch it steep.

The process is refreshingly simple. Jar. Tea. Sun. Wait.

The practice has lost popularity in the past few years because of sanitary concerns and bacteria fear-mongering. The whole bacteria thing can be avoided by using a super clean container, and filtered water. Keep the tea in the fridge when it's done brewing, and drink within a day or two... which, trust me, won't be hard. This stuff is delicious.

My jars held three cups of water, so I could've used two or three tea bags. I opted for two, which turned out to be plenty strong. The amazingly hot and sunny day we're having here certainly didn't hurt the process. Sun tea is not a rainy day activity, folks.

I tried a few different teas, all fair trade and organic... because every dollar we spend supports something, somewhere, and I'd like to think I'm supporting good things when I can.

I still have dreams of a tea garden, but that'll probably have to wait for more space...

The teas started steeping immediately, and I screwed the lids back on to protect from our lovely Southern friends, the gnats, as well as the love bugs that have exploded in our neighborhood the past few days.

A few hours later (3-4 seems to be the consensus), the teas had taken on these gorgeous colors, and I may have done a little dance on my porch.

It's okay if you want to do a happy dance too... I'll wait here...

I packed a glass with ice, and immediately poured some to enjoy. The rest will cool in the fridge, and there may even be some left when Lee gets home for him to try.

You know, in today's world of constant updates and bombardments, there's something timeless and special about sitting on the porch, watching the colors swirl while tea steeps in the bright sunlight.

Ah, the blessings of naptime...

My favorite so far is the tropical hibiscus, which has great lemony undertones and begs for a sprig of mint. The green tea is lovely, too, though definitely enhanced by a squirt of lemon juice. The black tea breakfast blend is probably the most classic sun tea flavor, and has the cleanest base for flavor add-ins. Take a gander at your herb garden, there are some great possibilities out there!

I also have grand plans to freeze some of the hibiscus tea and use the ice cubes in the green tea... yeah, Lee might just have to wait for the next batch...

Enjoy, friends!

Homemade Chicken Stock, From A... Carcass

Chickens, guys.

We roast chickens around here every couple of weeks, especially after I discovered this recipe, that made it seem so beautiful and easy.

Easy? Relatively.

Beautiful? Definitely not... mostly because, at some point during the process, you're going to have to use the word "carcass."

Carcass.

Gross.

It did eat at me (not literally... not like the poor chicken...) that there seemed like so much waste when we were done with our chicken. We got a good couple of meals out of it, and enjoyed the meat immensely, but then... there was this...

Carcass.

Then I heard tell of this thing you could do with a... carcass.

Chicken stock!

So that's been my most recent undertaking... chicken stock.

And my world has been rocked.

Rocked by stock.

The process has all of my favorite things... it's easy, cost effective, and crunchy granola at it's best!

Not only is broth great for your immune system (which is the thought process behind chicken noodle soup when you're sick... though the stuff in a can really isn't doing you much good...), but it's also high in calcium and magnesium, and can aid digestion.

I concocted my own recipe, which favors good clean chicken-y flavors. You can add it as much salt and herbs as you like, but I think the recipe is actually better without all the muss and fuss. (Better without more salt??? Yes, yes, it's true.)

To begin, you're going to need a... carcass. Some recipes I saw talked about using three or four, just keeping the extras in the freezer until you needed them.

One: ew, creepy. Carcasses in the freezer.

Two: remember that whole apartment thing we've talked about? My freezer is full of food, and there's no room for a stand-alone one. Goals for the future, I suppose.

So my day involved only one... carcass.

Put the entire thing into a pot, whatever bits and bobs, odds and chicken-y ends you have left after going all carnivore on that thing.

Add in coarsely chopped celery, carrots, and carrots, enough water to cover everything (I started with 4 cups, but added 4 more throughout the whole process), and a tablespoon of apple cider vinegar.

Whaaaaat?

Yup, apple cider vinegar! Ask me why. Go on, ask me.

...glycine.

Things are about to get crunchy, guys.

Okay, so the ACV helps the glycine (it's an amino acid) leech out of the bones of your... carcass. Glycine is pretty awesome for your health.

It can help keep your liver functioning, improve your memory, regulate blood sugar, and help your blood vessels reduce cholesterol buildup. Now some recommend taking gelatin supplements if you're not getting it in your diet, but why do that when there are chickens to roast and stock to make?

For a more in-depth conversation about bone broth and all it's crunchy goodness, check out Paleo Mom here.

So now you're going to bring everything up to a boil, then reduce to a simmer for about four hours. (Some people advise 24 hours, but ain't nobody got time for that. Some people advise one hour, but you want the glycine/gelatin goodness to have a chance to leech out... yes, seriously.)

As everything simmers, you want to scoop off any foam that forms on the top. Ew. Luckily, this shouldn't happen much if you're using high-quality, clean meat (re: crunchy, grass or veggie fed, natural, well-adjusted, watered with unicorn tears meat). You can also add more water if things start to boil down too low.

After that's all done, you need to drain out the solids. I used a fine mesh strainer, and drained right into a measuring cup.

Mmm...

You can discard your solids, though I'm taking suggestions for how to use them. (Darn the lack of compost pile, yet again...)

Once everything cools down, store that stuff! Keep it in the fridge for up to five days, or in the freezer for a couple months. I kept half in the fridge for immediate use, and froze the rest in two-cup portions. Pinterest inspired trick: liquids in quart bags, frozen flat, then stacked neatly like books.

Seriously, though, this stuff is amazing. The flavor puts even the organic store-bought stuff to shame, and it elevates even my most plebeian of dishes. I used it instead of water to make some Israeli couscous, and again in some soup... Shut. The. Front. Door. I don't want to toot my own horn, so I'll toot the chicken's instead. He was quite tasty!

Give it a shot... easy project, great results, even if it does involve a... carcass.

Homestead Barn Hop

Microgreens! Great Things In Small Packages.

Microgreens, guys.

Basically, these are just baby plants, harvested after the first set of bitty leaves have emerged. They are fantastically awesome, not only because tiny things are just cuuuuute, but also because they're scrumptious and great for you (so many of my favorite things!). They are super high in antioxidants and anti-carcinogenic properties, packed with vitamins, and concentrated with nutrients.

The overarching umbrella of microgreens covers all manner of leafy greens and herbs, like spinach, kale, arugula, beets, radishes, swiss chard, or basil, cilantro, parsley, and chives... to name a few.

Nutritionfacts does a great comparison, saying, "Microgreens won hands down (leaves down?), possessing significantly higher nutrient densities than mature leaves. For example, red cabbage microgreens have a 6-fold higher vitamin C concentration than mature red cabbage and 69 times the vitamin K."

Um, yuhhhmmmm.

Even WebMD has been won over, sharing that microgreens can have up to 40 times the vital nutrients of the grown-up versions.

Lucky for us, the flavor is just as concentrated as the nutrients, so a little goes a long way with these little critters. Try a few sprigs on your omelet, toss a handful into a salad, top a burger, or add them to smoothies. Anything greens can do, microgreens can do better... you know, within reason.

Now obviously, you can buy these little suckers, but why do that when they're so easy to sprout? Chances are you already have everything on hand that you need. You can get fancy set-ups online, but that takes away from your bottom line... and isn't in the thrifty Little House spirit! Really, you just need a container, some soil, and seeds. Simple.

PLUS, they're done in just a week, maybe two. Great for those of us who may not be the most patient gardeners, you know, like kids... or me.

I got a bunch of seed packets to use in my container gardening, but since each pot can only hold one plant, I'm using only a small percentage of seeds from the packet. (Except the broccoli.... that one keeps getting dug up by the neighborhood Bird Bully, and I keep replanting. Must research bird deterrents. Running out of broccoli seeds.) Microgreens sprouting is a great use of the rest of those little guys.

To start, prep your growing space! I chose a Fage container that had just been emptied (By My Bellyyyy), and washed it out super good with super hot water and super strong soap.

Mmm, Fage... I've taken to mixing in chopped up pistachios and dark chocolate chunks for an afternoon snack... but I digress.

You need a few drainage holes so that you don't drown your seeds. (Help meeeee...) That would be sad. I used my trusty IKEA hammer and poked a few holes with a nail. The yogurt lid makes a delightful drainage tray, just so you know. It's like they designed it with repurposing in mind!

Next, gather you seeds! As we now know, you can use just about anything to sprout some microgreens. Sprouts are not microgreens! Microgreens are grown in soil, sprouts are grown with water. Just FYI. Different things are going to have different flavors, so it stands to reason that if you like it when it's big, you're going to like it when it's small. I did a big combination of things (with only a little bit of broccoli. Those seeds are important now, guys.)

If you soak your seeds in warm water for an hour, it's going to hasten germination... not that we're impatient or anything. Not me. Never.

Fill your container with soil, and spread you seeds out on top. Add a thin layer of soil (thin, like a quarter inch at most. Thinnnnn. Giselle soil, right here.)

You can keep your container inside until your little guys start to pop up, they won't need sunlight until then. After that, they'll do great on a windowsill, or if you have Evil Cats like me, a nice sunny spot outside will do nicely.

You'll start seeing things soon! (I think this was about four days in.) Then just let them grow until they reach the height/size that suits your fancy. Snip them off at the soil line a few at a time as needed, or harvest the entire container and have a mircogreens-a-palooza!

Then rinse and repeat! 

...just don't go out of town for a week to help your parents move and forget about your microgreens. Otherwise, your friendly cat-sitter will continue to water them, they'll continue to grow, and you'll end up with Microgreen Forest, which are then just plants.

Sprouting Sprouts

Sprouts are like the Little Engine That Could. They're these little, unsung heros of nutrition and awesomeness, just waiting to be discovered by boys and girls everywhere.

Recently, I sprouted my own sprouts for the first time, and it was a rush.

They're super low-maintenance, idiot-proof, and rewarding.

Why on earth would I want to do that, you may ask. Well, sprouts are packed with nutrition, they're overflowing with taste, they're high in vitamins, protein, enzymes, and fiber, and they're super cute.

That's a lie, they kind of look like aliens, and I had a purple ketchup flash-back (does anyone else remember that craze?) of I'm supposed to eat these??? I got over it, and I'm glad I did, because they're tasty little suckers, and sometimes purple ketch-up is fun.

They're also prolific, so make sure you have a plan for them...

I started with two tablespoons of mung beans that I picked up in the bulk section of Whole Foods for only pennies plus the cost of my second child.

I opted for mung beans, because I knew I'd be making stir fry later in the week, and I love bean sprouts in my stir frys (fries?).

You can also sprout other beans or seeds, allegedly following the same steps, but those are as of yet untested and unapproved. No stamps or seals here just yet.

You want to start by rinsing your beans (or seeds, etc) and making sure you remove everything inedible or unsproutable. I found a lovely pebble.

Next, put your beans in a jar. There are lots of super fancy stacking trays and systems you can buy for sprouting things, but I opted for simple (re: things I already had on hand... re: free!). I used a Mason jar covered in cheese cloth, and used the ring to hold everything in place. You need to be able to rinse your beans easily, without losing them all down the drain. Tricky little suckers.

Let your beans soak overnight, or for 24 hours, whichever pleases you. Drain said beans, and leave them propped upside-down at an angle to make sure all the moisture is going away from your sprouting beans. If they mold, we don't eat them. These are not mushrooms or French cheeses, friends.

(These are my beans after 24 hours, just starting to open.) So now, ignore them. Mostly. Every day, you want to rinse them out, swirl them around a little, drain, and prop them back upside-down.

(Beans, day 2, sprouting tails.) You can do this twice a day if you're bored, or if someone is visiting in the afternoon and you want to impress them with your sprouting-ness. "Why yes, let's have tea, just let me rinse my sprouts first, hmmm?"

(Beans, day 3, increasing in sprout-y lengths.) I have a dish-drying rack by my sink that I used to prop up the bean jar, which also served the delightful purpose of reminding me to rinse them out if I had forgotten about them that day. Rinse, swirl, repeat.

(On day 4, I had a mild panic attack when I say how they had exploded overnight.) I am no longer swirling my beans when I rinse them. Rather, I'm hoping they don't come to life and crawl towards me rasping, "Faaaaatherrrrr..."

Remember when I said they were prolific?

(Beans, day 5, ready to explode out the top and overtake Russia... because someone probably should...)

Now you can keep sprouting them for up to a week, but my jar was full and I needed them for dinner, so I called it at day 5. Maybe next time one tablespoon will be more than enough...

"But those don't look like the mung bean sprouts I can get at the store..." Yes, I can hear you whining. Those are weighted using a special, fancy process that I didn't want to get into. Remember, I like easy. Sustainable. Low-maintenance. E.A.S.Y. Besides, these taste even better, with a light, pepper-y taste that perfectly complimented my stir-fry. Plus, I felt all virtuous thinking about the multitude of nutrients and vitamins I had created on my kitchen counter.

Nom nom nom...

Seriously, though, I'm never going back to the store-bought versions. These were easy, a fraction (FR-ACT-ION) of the price, and required minimal forethought. So many of my favorite things...

Sprout some beans, improve your health, and pray to God they don't become sentient and come for you in the night. Enjoy!