Gardening as a primer to the natural order
I take no issue with other folks’ dietary restrictions, but regardless of what you eat or why you choose to eat that way the taking of life is inseparable from the process. Exhibit A: my dad’s garden.
This is the first summer my parents’ house has been without a pet of one kind or another. When we gave my beagle to my uncle so she could run on a farm the raccoons started getting in the garage more. But the last cat finally vanished last fall and has not been replaced. Consequently, the rabbits have appeared in greater numbers than I’ve ever seen there and are quite bold. Our neighbor’s dog roams free but doesn’t seem to care about them.
Now, anywhere there is a garden rabbits will feast. They are particularly fond of the tender young leaves of bush beans as well as the greener variety of hostas that border the woods. They only seem to like the hostas that are fully green; the ones with the white rimmed leaves are tougher and apparently unappetizing. We could put out poison, or traps, or try the hot sauce on the leaves trick, but my dad is old school to a fault and at his age you can get away with much mischief. A .22 is not very loud, mind you, but rabbits are out of season right now and it’s illegal to discharge a firearm within city limits. Still, few raise an eyebrow at a 64 year old white man. I should add that he’s the best shot I’ve ever seen with an open sight rifle, even with his age, trifocals, and the mediocrity of his implements. Before Labor Day he had told me he was two for five at the rabbits he had shot at.
On Labor Day we took a walk to inspect the damage when we jumped a rabbit not 10 feet from us. Again, they’ve gotten quite bold without a domestic predator around. Later I was in the garage with my roommate when we heard that unmistakable crack. From the deck he had hit the rabbit in the body, through the lungs. The fellow lay still but his tail remained twitchy and I could see the life left in his eyes. Pain is inevitable for all but suffering should be reduced whenever possible, so I did what must be done. Never having been educated on the proper method, I fucked up and wrung the neck like a washcloth. Not the best way, but it worked. One should never waste game, but rabbit should not be eaten before the first frost because of ringworm, so I tossed him deeper into the woods for the raccoons to take care of.
Walking back, I marked it at 39 paces. A remarkable shot, all around. And a task not at all unique, cruel, or immoral. Death is a necessary occurrence in all farming, if food is to be at all affordable or sufficient. One can avoid committing the act and reduce interaction with it, but it can not be eliminated from the process. It may be messy, ugly, and uncomfortable, but it’s real. So don’t pretend it’s not there.
- KS
BEHOLD
M feels that I should cull these if I ever want, you know, actual red tomatoes. He’s probably right, but I’m gonna leave ‘em for a day or two, at least until I can retry this.
Container garden, 7/12. I added two 6” pots of onion bulbs and moved some succulents around. The tomatoes, basil and peas are getting too much sun, the marigolds too little; the Bulgarian carrot pepper is like the best of lovers, thriving on what it’s given and returning its love in spades.
Compost glasnost
So here’s my compost as of the 12th:
I think you can see those Alaska peas that didn’t make it, some photosynthetically unfortunate tomato leaves, banana peels, coffee grounds, some old garlic and various cutting-board scrapings in there. Since, I’ve added green Bell pepper remnants.
About my compost, I keep wondering: when and how am I supposed to use this stuff? The time for planting is long past (though that hasn’t stopped me, as you’ll see in an imminent post) and I can’t imagine the hot bacterial mess keeping long over the winter. I guess I could, you know, look this stuff up online, but this blog is made of dilemmas and I will not deny my mistress the cravings of her rapacious maw.
What is up, hyacinths!
A few months ago some random, wavy-leaved bulbs appeared out of nowhere in M’s aquarium. I thought they were water hyacinths. M was skeptical. Last week he put them outside in a glass water pot. Last night they were showing a few shy fuchsia petals.This morning?
The hell you say, those aren’t water hyacinths.
Recipe: Cheddar, pinto bean and carrot pepper quesadillas
Although between us I’m the one who lived in Mexico for six months, M is a devoted practitioner of the quesadillic arts. He never doesn’t want a folded tortilla with melted cheese and sundry other items up ins. He likes them with store-bought shredded “Mexican” or sharp cheddar “cheese,” chorizo cooked to foie-gras texture, grilled Bell peppers, and lately, refried beans. Here’s his method, tweaked with some unripe Bulgarian carrot peppers from my container garden.You’ll need some beans, soaked overnight and parboiled. This time around he used Pinto Bean Surprise - basically pintos with cooked pork shoulder and fried Bell peppers. Then he refried them:
This should take about fifteen minutes on medium heat. You really can’t overcook these things; you want the beans falling apart and the pepper as good as liquefied. Once they’re getting nice and sludgy and fragrant, you can nudge them over to one side of your fry pan and start up some quesadillas. If you don’t know how to make quesadillas, I can’t help you, but one trick I like is to have the tortilla only half on the bottom of the pan (the cheese half) and the other half sticking up out the side until the cheese gets a little melty. Don’t fold ‘em up yet!
While your quesadillas are melterating and your beans are continuing to form a delightful, sludgy, farty mess, slice up your chile pepper of choice. Unripe Bulgarian carrot peppers taste just like a fresh snow pea at first, then warm with a little kick as your saliva dissolves the coating on the seeds. They’re nowhere near the excruciating Scoville level I like best, though apparently mature Bulgarian carrots rate a respectable 2,000-5,000 SHU (for comparison, this is a little less than a jalapeno; orange habaneros are 150,000-325,000 SHU). Anyway.
Now put the beans in the quesadilla.
Then add your sliced peppers and sundry other items.
These came out terrific, though I must say M is the much better cook of the two of us. Next quesadilla incident, I want to try rajas and/or nopal.
Oh shit!
My Bulgarian carrot pepper is fruiting.
Didn’t even bother to say, “Look, lady, I’m doin’ stuff over here.”
Kashrut law doesn’t address this
Is there anything you can’t put in compost? Mine’s pretty sad right now.
That’s an old lime wedge (we forget about these when we make gin and tonics), some 4-flat Shop ‘n’ Save tomatoes that didn’t make it, and you can see a little bit of green tomato top up there. I think there’s some frijoles negros with bell pepper under there from when I cleaned out the fridge. M says animal products in general are a bad idea, which makes me kind of want to try it.
Lousy view of the garden. Tomatoes are pre-pillaging.
