This Year's Big Star

This is only the fourth year of my kitchen garden, which I can hardly believe as it seems like watering the crops after dinner has been my life for ever. The first year I felt anxious and impatient and planted only what you would expect--green beans, red tomatoes, zucchini. The second year, I threw in lots of heirloom veggies that veered from the mainstream--lemon cucumbers, yellow teardrop tomatoes, purple beans. And I started to add flowers, which I hadn't wanted to do that first year because I didn't want to "waste any space.' But I realized how important they were for pollination and averting specific pests. Year Three found me still trying to maximize space, although I was by now happy to let plants stay past their prime and go to seed so that I could have all lifecycles present in the garden, and so I could save seeds.

And now, Year Four, I have changed yet again. As I was watering last night, I realized how little time I've spent weeding lately. As I looked around the garden, I discovered it is because not only am I eating half the weeds (the lamb's quarters, mostly), but I find a sort of noble beauty in them that I hadn't found before. I see how the birds visit them, and how the kids work their little flowers into their games. I also realized that much of my garden is filled with stuff I didn't plant this year. Where are the eggplants? Where is the corn? Tomato, lamb's quarters and calendula volunteers are all over, and this year's big star is turning out to be a tall, bushy, elegant red spire with nutrition-packed leaves called amaranth. I planted it two years ago and let it go to seed and now it is truly everywhere. It is a big, showy plant that adds color, movement and interest to the garden. But, more than that, it asks little of me and continually delivers a daily harvest of its leaves. The crimson red of the flowers supposedly makes a gorgeous dye. I'll somehow learn to thresh the flowers to get the seed, which apparently can be popped like popcorn, cooked like couscous or quinoa, or ground into a flour. Amaranth resists heat and drought and has no major disease problems. Cultures around the world rely on this easy-to-grow, densely nutritious crop. And now I do, too.

I ordered my original amaranth seeds from Seeds of Change. I wasn't going to mention Seeds of Change because they screwed up my order this year so badly and for so long that I vowed not to order from them again. Yet, had I gotten the seeds I ordered this year, I am certain that I would not have let my beds become overrun with amaranth, and I wouldn't have as part of my life what I'm increasingly seeing as a daily gift. So, in an odd way, thank you, Seeds of Change. It all works out.

One Local Summer Update:

Lunch Box Additions: blackberries, mint sprigs, purple beans

Dinner: Completely local--a frittata made with free-range eggs (Chad the Milkman's) new potatoes (D & A Farms), lamb's quarters, tarragon and lemon thyme (all from the garden).

This Year's Big Star