Thursday, May 25, 2017

Inwood Hill Park Forage Walk



Inwood Hill Park Walk
28 May 2017
12.30pm - 3.30pm
$45

There are four spots left on this Sunday's plant identification and forage walk in Inwood Hill park. Here you will find the forest in Manhattan that many New Yorkers have never seen. It is a beautifully green and peaceful place to explore, and a cooling antidote to the bad news that besieges us.

Taking any subway to the last stop on its line has a certain drama to it, and the A to 207th Street does not disappoint. The park lies a few minutes' walk west.


We meet at its entrance (big bonus - there is a bathroom!). The well populated flock of baseball fields is usually in full swing (Inwood's population is mostly Dominican, and baseball is big). At little tables under the trees neighborhood men argue over dominoes, and further along a small dog park's owners compare dog sizes and brilliance.


Another two minutes takes us into the forest, and suddenly it is silent. The tulip trees here are huge, straight, looming. Woodpeckers drill dead trunks and overhead an owl blinks. Spicebush trees congregate in this first valley, while on its sloped edges tendrils of catbriar tangle in the undergrowth.


Late Japanese knotweed tips are still tender enough to pick. Invasive mugwort and burdock hug paths and fields, while pokeweed shoots do Phoenix acts at the base of their dead bleached winter canes.


Indigenous wildflowers persist among mats of suffocating periwinkle and herds of day lilies. Nettles prick their way down a steep slope.


Annual jewelweed crowds damp ditches and reputedly offers sting relief.


This forest - the oldest on Manhattan island - offers a living tutorial in invasive plant interactions, woodland gardening possibilities and creative kitchen garden development. It is also like walking through a living pantry.


Depending on the progress and digressions we make, we begin with beautiful silence, hike up a hill, along a quiet ridge and then down the western side, beneath the roaring Henry Hudson Parkway. Here we see the Hudson River before we loop around, past wild blueberry bushes and under the big steel bridge and above the Spuyten Duyvil waterway.


At last, between a green lawn and a salt mash we settle down for our wild foods tasting picnic where you can sample some of the plants we have just seen.




Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Refuge



Inbetween steady rains the weather has been beautiful after two freak days days of bewildering heat at the end of last week. We have been eating supper outside. The garden is growing, fast. The first mosquitoes have appeared. By late summer last year they were a scourge. Plague like. Someone, somewhere nearby, must have some nice standing water for them. Or maybe they breed in the sewers. But they are a primordial reminder that we are not really in charge.


The supper above was Sunday's - lamb burgers, by special Frenchman request (still in the oven, so not pictured). That's what the mustard is for. Please note the ketchup in disguise in a little white dish. Also Aleppo pepper (RIP, Aleppo). Inside the lamb burgers, as a middle bite surprise, was a morsel of salted, dried ramp leaves, delicious beyond speech. Yes, the method will be in the new book. Dessert of organic strawberries drizzled with a very good balsamic that I bought at the butcher, just before they closed. We had just driven in from a beautiful day out on Staten Island and the line at the butcher was out the door. Everyone wanted lamb burgers, apparently.

Change of subject: There are a few spots left on Sunday's walk in the peaceful forest of Inwood Hill Park. Come and forest bathe and learn about plants and share a picnic with other enquiring minds. I am not sure what the snacks will be, yet, but I can guarantee happy quail eggs with ground elder dipping salt. I'm picking up the eggs tomorrow at Union Square Market.

__________________



Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Post Trump Tulip Disorder (PTTD)



This has been my tulip spring. I ordered and planted them around Trump time. We all did strange things, then. In the central vegetable plot (tulips are edible, was my reasoning) they provided an April burst of glory after that November shock, when nothing good ever seemed possible, again.


 Tall, graceful and long lasting: these are 'Impression' cultivars - a mix of three, ordered from Dutch Bulbs.


But this tulip - purchased in the same order - puzzled me.


While its petals were pleasingly parrot shaped, especially early on (above), and the plants bore more than one flower as the weeks passed - which is very unusual for a tulip -  the flat red did not thrill me. Why did I choose them? Impulse buying too late at night, online? Too much Trump? Was the Cheeto orange rubbing off?


Only when I sat down to write this post did I realize that these tulips were a mistake. And not mine. Checking my emailed receipts, I saw that they should have been a cultivar called 'Dragon King:' elegantly tall, pink, a pale yellow stripe up every other sheathed petal. But those never arrived. The red ones did, and I planted them. Bulbs look like bulbs. I will let Dutch Bulbs know and I am sure they will fix it, retroactively


From Brent and Becky's came the smaller flowered but stupendously long lasting (four weeks) 'Queen of the Night.' They are still in bloom, shedding petals, now. As the flowers matured, they became blacker. I will buy them again.


Also from Brent and Becky's a long limbed white bloom, 'Clearwater,' which flowered for a long time mixed with the ostrich ferns - all-morning shade, about four hours of sun from 1pm-ish onwards (pssst - notice the gravel in the last two pictures? That's another story...).


Another Brent and Becky's selection was 'Golden Apeldoorn,' planted in shadier spots and blooming among the Heuchera and cinnamon ferns. It gave a pop of colour where it was needed.

Now the garden's season has turned to columbines - the plants gifted to me by my garden designer friend Julia Miller; and alliums and camassia are blooming. The Solomon's seal still looks spectacular. The wisteria is just about over (I picked the flowers and made syrups, vinegars, gin and pancakes) and the Boston ivy wall on the opposite side has been attacked by a terrible blight (all the rain we had, I think) causing its leaves to crisp and fall. Potted hydrangeas and elder are going gangbusters and the new wasabi plants from Oregon are steadily shoving out tiny leaves

I can't wait to eat them.
__________________


Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Central Park Forage Walk

Black locust, Robinia pseudoacacia

Central Park 
20 May 2017
12.30pm - 2.30pm
$40

After a seasonally scrambled start to the year spring is barreling into early summer in the northern wilds of Central Park. The woods and fields are filled with edible wild plants, from black locust flowers to lambs quarters and sumac.

                                                  Flowering raspberry, Rubus odoratus

There is a rich combination here of invasive and indigenous trees, shrubs and perennials, and this is an ideal inner urban escape where we can talk about how they interact in nature and in the kitchen. Learn to identify what is edible and what is not, and afterwards enjoy a taste of some of the wild things we have just seen.


              Details will be emailed to confirmed walkers upon sign up.

WALK COMPLETE

Monday, May 15, 2017

Last call for arugula flowers



These flowers belong to the arugula I planted last fall. The plants were extremely tenacious, lasting right through winter and feeding us until just a few days ago, when I pulled them out. Yes, I did feel bad.

I let them bloom because I love their unassuming, four petaled flowers on tall, tall stems, and because I thought the honey bees might love them, too. The honey bees did not. Slow to arrive, they have now been visiting the allium flowers and ignoring the brassicas. Maybe they know something I do not?

So the arugula came out, making way for baby spinach and lettuces. A fresh arugula sowing will take place later in the week (I save up gardening as a reward for book work done). This crop has performed so well in the vegetable plot that I began to take it for granted and am now caught with my arugula pants down: we have none. For a salad addict that is just frightening.

The lettuces should be afraid. Very, very afraid.

__________________


Thursday, May 11, 2017

June Forage Walk


Prospect Park
11 June 2017 
12 pm - 2pm
$45.00

Early summer brings the Big Green to city parks. Trees are in luxuriant leaf, ground elder is in bloom, cup plants are climbing skywards and mugwort is taking over the world. 


Early June is elderflower time - we'll talk about how to make elderflower cordial and bubbly. It is easy to grow at home, too. 


June is also the harbinger of tilia (linden) blossom - where for ten to fourteen days in the year New York actually smells fantastic.

We walk, talk, scratch and sniff (plants, not each other) and gather at the end for a picnic of wild tastes.

A confirmation email with more details will be sent to signed up walkers in the week before the walk.



_______________________

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Fleeting spring, and flowers are flying



Tuesday evening.

What's in the glass? Red chokeberry syrup, gin and fir and fir gin. Shaken up.

One of the garden's garlic crops in the foreground - I planted several late last year, in different microclimates in the vegetable plot (even a few feet this way or that make a mound of difference in terms of sunlight). Safe to say this one was an interesting but technical failure. Tiny bulbs, a little larger than thumb sized, and the greens so peaky I pulled them now. But perfectly formed and very sweet. The others are very robust, thankfully. These cloves were planted from store bought organic garlic bulbs. I have chopped them up finely into our chicken wing supper where they join some ramps - a gift from my Gowanus garden friend, who popped in late this afternoon with a beautiful bunch of milkweed shoots for me.

Friends have been very helpful with forages for my recipe testing. Having wild things arrive at my door has allowed me to save some time as I deal with the mad flood of spring deliciousness that demands to be collected, cleaned, cooked, photographed and written up.


We have wisteria blossoms this year. I pruned the huge, old vine that tops our English ivy fence hard, last year. It still threatens to take over the world. Sweet, scented and edible, I am catching as many as I can to enjoy later in the season (note that the green wisteria 'beans' are poisonous). Then there was the cataract of ramps from our friend Steven Schwartz, proprietor of Delaware Valley Ramps. Pickled, salted, turned into oils and butters, and eaten fresh, too. Lots of processing and preserving happening.

Inbetween this and that, a gravel path has been laid in the garden, lettuces have been planted, fiddlehead tarts have been baked (in Quebec, no less - we flew north briefly for a Canadian mother's birthday), and squirrel varmints have been chastised soundly: the little [... bleeped out...] have eaten every last green fig on my tree. That was the breba crop - no doubt they will do the same with the main crop that appears on new, green growth. I may net it.


Last night the Frenchman and I sat in the garden after landing at La Guardia and sipped drinks in air that said autumn, rather than spring. It is crisp, cool and dry, inbetween torrential rainfalls.

Two more forage walks with picnics happen over the next two weekends, a TV crew comes to visit, and another dozen recipes will be come to light. Spring is good.

And if I am not here, you can find me daily on Instagram, @66squarefeet.

______________________


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...