Community Supported Agriculture

In case you haven't noticed, there's not a lot of room for kitchen gardens in NYC. Oh sure, you can grow tomatoes on rooftops and herbs in window boxes, not to mention lettuces in Brooklyn and maybe even a respectable spread of eggplants and zukes in Queens or Staten Island. But not many of us have enough room to grow all our own fruits and vegetables, which is why green markets and CSAs are essential to any New Yorker who wants fresh, local food.

You all know what greenmarkets are, but how about a CSA? Community Supported Agriculture is a coop arrangement between a group of local foodies and a farmer. The farmer sells shares to members who pay in advance for fruits and vegetables throughout the year. By paying ahead of time you share some risk with the farmer. Will the spinach be attacked by beetles? Will the butternut squash be drowned by late summer rains? Maybe. That's the chance you take for seasonal food grown by a farmer you actually know.

And did I mention, you never know exactly what you're going to get until the food arrives? The delivery includes whatever is in season, meaning you won't get tomatoes in June or cucumbers in October. My share this week included: garlic, beets, carrots, potatoes, acorn squash, celeriac, parsley, dry beans, kale, cauliflower, pears, and apples. A cornucopia of autumn goodness.

Now's the time to subscribe for 2009! My own CSA sells out fast, so I re-subscribe nice and early. To find a CSA in New York City, check the Just Food website. If you're living somewhere else in the U S of A, check out Local Harvest. Type in your zip code and get a list of the CSAs nearest you.

Most groups recommend a half share for couples and a full share for families, but Michael and I easily get through a full share with just the two of us. You can buy an extra fruit share and supplement with monthly meat, egg, and cheese deliveries. There's maple syrup, honey, yogurt, bread...even fresh flowers if you're in the mood.

The point is that just because you live in a single room with one window that faces a brick wall (no wait, that's me) it doesn't mean you can't have fresh fruit and vegetables in the middle of this big, bad, hungry city.



Photos 2, 3 & 4 were taken by Adam Mastoon for my book: Down & Dirty: 43 Fun & Funky First Time Projects & Activities to Get You Gardening. I'm allowed to use them in conjunction with promoting the book, so consider this a promo!

Blooming Grasses

My gardening season starts on Christmas day, when the tradition on my farm has been to light the fireplace, brew a pot of tea, and surround myself with spring catalogs that have been poring in. I start with a sharp pencil, Post-its for marking pages, lists of seeds and plants, and fantasies of what my garden could look like. My tradition continues on New Year’s Day. While the other half of my family celebrates with college bowl games, I try on old and new plant favorites on my wish list.

My visions are vivid for spring and summer, much less so for fall and winter. I do my major garden center buys between April and June, and am seduced by plants not on my list because they’re coming in to season. If I got to a nursery more often in fall I‘d have more grasses in my garden because they’d scream ‘Take me home.’

During fall and winter many grasses show off best. Majesty of structure, movement with the breeze, whispering sounds, a backdrop of crimson and gold trees or a dusting of snow, are some of the reasons to plant grasses. In Mid-November the sun streaming through blooming grasses in the Conservatory Garden is one of the highlights of the display. (top center)
The Conservatory Garden is a largely hidden treasure on 105th and 5th in Central Park.






On the right, noted garden photographer Alan Detrick captures light playing off the grasses in one of my fall displays. (©Alan & Linda Detrick)










New York City gardeners find that that grasses are perfect for containers and many like sea oats, golden variegated Hakonechloa,and Japanese blood grass do well in light shade. Use grasses like the tough Giant Reed (Arundo donax) for screening as well as aesthetics. Remember that the annual spring shearing will leave you temporarily exposed. On the right, my rooftop garden in September with Pennisetum grass, black-eyed Susans, and the lovely Joe-Pye variety, Eupatorium 'Little Joe' (Double-click to enlarge photo.)

Cut a few stems of any grass from your garden when the plant is coming into bloom and stand them in an attractive container. They’ll dry in place and give you an elegant but inexpensive display all winter. If you don’t have any of your own, look in vacant lots for weed grasses like green foxtail, that looks fantastic dried. Pick in the green stage, late summer to early fall so the seeds won’t drop all over your floor as the bloom dries.

Great Lawns

Before President-elect Obama made his electrifying acceptance speech at midnight EST last Tuesday, John McCain made a concession speech on the ‘lush lawn’ (New York Times 11/5/08) of the land-marked Arizona Biltmore Hotel. Most viewers were hanging on McCain’s words. But because like most women I’m a great multi-tasker, I was also trying to get a glimpse of the lawn in the darkness.

One and a half years ago DJ (Daughter Jen) and I stayed at that hotel for one night on our way to a longer visit to the Grand Canyon. With views of stately Camelback Mountain in the near distance the hotel, that calls itself “The Jewel of the Desert”, has a massive watering program to maintain the lushness in an alien climate. DJ and I were dismayed at the lawn and plant choices made by the landscaper and escaped to the Desert Botanical Garden nearby to enjoy a much more appropriate scene.

Back in New York City, Central Park features a thirteen-acre oval carpet of Kentucky bluegrass known as The Great Lawn. The lawn was totally refurbished eleven years ago with special soil, sod, drainage pipes, irrigation lines and 250 pop-up sprinklers. In 1997 the cost estimate for maintaining the lawn was 650,000.


Like the lawn at the Arizona Biltmore, it’s lush and well-cared for, and the scene of some major events. People go there to read, relax, and sun themselves, play softball, cricket, make out, and listen to concerts. The stage on the great lawn has played host to the likes of Pavarotti, Pope John Paul II, the NY Philharmonic, and a new Disney movie.


Dear gardeners, do we need/want/deserve such a lawn? Does a privately owned hotel in the desert deserve it?

Container Art

Without my realizing it, I’ve become a stalker. I go to visit the object of my affection about once a-week. I try to grab a peek as I’m going by on the bus and I take photos in all seasons. Of all the planters visible on the streets of NYC these are by far my favorites. They are redone completely three or four times a year; in the interim when they get sad looking, plant material is removed or added. There are two window boxes and some built-in concrete planters about 12” H x 12” W that flank the flight of stairs to the entrance of the building. I’m enthralled with the color and texture, individual plants that are slightly unusual, and combinations that surprise. I go to see what ideas I can steal for my own garden because these are truly inspirational.

In a city where we may not have a garden of our own, why not enjoy the borrowed scenery of others’ gardens? As I stop each season to take pictures, passersby approach me to share their own delight.

I finally walk up and open the imposing front door to the Orthodox Greek Archdiocese office on 79th St. between 5th and Madison to discover the name of the artist who designs and installs the plants. He is Evan Denis, a third generation florist, as he calls himself, who no longer has a shop but works for clients doing floral design, events, traditional florist stuff as well as designing terraces and containers.
Visit Evan Denis at: www.evandenisflorist.com. or after you visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art, walk three and-a-half blocks south and see what another artist does with his palette.

Gantry Plaza State Park

How many of you have been to Gantry Plaza State Park?
How many of you know where Gantry Plaza State Park is?

I've lived in NYC for 23 years (should I be admitting that?) and if it hadn't been for Rick Darke (from the hinterlands of Pennsylvania) I wouldn't know there was a 4 acre park on the Queens waterfront, with spectacular views of Manhattan and great sweeps of native grasses set against 2 monolithic Long Island Railroad gantries.

There's something about the juxtaposition of industrial, metal structures with the water of the east river and bright red viburnum berries that I find irresistible. It's alive and not alive. It's rivets and maple samaras. It's big city skyline surrounded by lawn.

In summer the park's four piers offer concerts and an amazing view of the 4th of July fireworks. There are basketball courts, handball courts and a dedicated fish cleaning table for city anglers. Off season you may have the park to yourself and that's how I like it best. Where else in the five boroughs can you listen to the soughing of ornamental grasses and the slap of the east river against a pier?

Take the 7 train (either the first or last stop in Queens, depending on where you're coming from!). Get off at Vernon-Jackson Avenue and walk down 48th Avenue to the river. The park is in front of the City Lights Building. Clear an afternoon and bring a picnic, a book, a football, a friend...whatever suits your fancy.

Oh Those Osage Oranges

Ellen Zachos forages for food like Ginkgo nuts: I forage for natural materials to decorate my home. This time of year some of my favorite finds are baseball-sized chartreuse ‘brains’, the fruit of the Osage orange tree (Maclura pomifera). They fall to the ground, sometimes cracking, exposing the milky flesh and seeds to squirrels. But often they remain whole and are perfect for me.

I have no Osage orange trees in my neighborhood but my friend Lois scouts the crop in Riverside Park where she walks daily, and favors me with regular reports. When the time is ripe I go early in the morning before the efficient park employees have raked up the debris, and look around for whole, unblemished fruit hiding in the grass, then schlep them home. After rinsing and drying I store in the fridge until I get enough for a nice display.

Creating the Design: How To
Start with a clear glass or wire bowl and start piling up the Osage oranges, biggest on the bottom and any black spots hiding toward the inside. Work up toward a pyramid shape. Intersperse with other foraged seedpods, cones, or nuts: here sweet gum balls, horse chestnuts. Locust pods rest on the table. If you have extra fruit, place them on shot glasses around the central bowl.
You can save the oranges in a cool place to mix with other materials for Thanksgiving or Christmas displays. I often slice the fruit and dehydrate in the oven to make beautiful decorations for a holiday bird feeder tree, but more about that in December.

The Search
Not typically used as street trees in New York City since a falling fruit might literally ‘brain’ you, Osage orange trees find a home in many of the larger city parks. I’m not going to pinpoint my favorite trees, because I’m selfish. But search in parks near you from mid October through late November and ask a park employee. Even if the worker doesn’t know the tree by name, there’s no missing that messy fruit.


More About the Tree
It’s an American native, sometimes called hedge apple and can reach 60’ tall. The bark has a dark orangey tinge and I find that easier to spot than identifying the leaves when I’m on the prowl. The wood is tough, not prone to rot and excellent for making bows. They used to be planted in hedgerows on farms in the mid west. The tree bible by Michael A. Dirr (Dirr’s Hardy Trees and Shrubs) says that the tree withstands “wetness, dryness, wind, extreme heat and will grow where few other plants will”, just don’t think of it for your garden.

Stinko Ginkgo

Come here.

Closer.

Can you smell the ginkgo? No? Consider yourself lucky!

Actually, despite the putrid smell of ripe ginkgo fruit, many (myself included) anticipate their arrival every fall. Come October I stuff my pockets full of latex gloves and plastic grocery bags and wander the streets and parks of New York City breathing deeply, searching for female ginkgo trees.

The ripe fruit really DO smell like cheesy vomit (I don't mince words) but the nut inside the fruit is an under-appreciated delicacy in the US of A. If you get a whiff of something putrescent as you're walking down the street, look up.

Perhaps you'll see branches laden with cantaloupe colored fruit above your head, or even better...perhaps the fruit will have started to fall, indicating it's ripe and ready to collect.
Put on those latex gloves and pinch the fruit to squeeze out the kernel inside. This is what you'll be taking home with you. (The first time I foraged for ginkgo I made the mistake of bringing the whole fruit home. That stench fills up a studio apartment mighty fast, let me tell you!) When you get your harvest back to the kitchen, run the nuts under water to get off the last shreds of smelly flesh. Then, spread them on a cookie sheet and roast for an hour at 350 degrees.

Once the nuts have been roasted, place them between two dish towels and tap with a hammer. After destroying a few, you’ll get a feel for how hard to hit without shattering the nuts.

For pure ginkgo enjoyment, fry the shelled nuts in a little oil and toss with coarse salt. This is an excellent autumn snack with cold beer, cider, or a glass of wine. They’re also a tasty addition to stir fries and soups, adding unexpected texture. Or, try making a pesto from ginkgo nuts and basil; this takes perfect advantage of the cheesy nuttiness of the ginkgo seed.

Ginkgo pesto
In a food processor, combine 1 cup roasted, shelled gingko nuts with 1 Tbs. olive oil and 1 cup fresh basil leaves. (Yes, the end of basil season overlaps with ginkgo season.) Pulse until the mixture is a coarse paste (adding more oil if necessary), then season with salt and pepper to taste. You won’t need cheese; the ginkgo nuts do double duty in this recipe. The pesto keeps in the refrigerator for up to a month. At room temperature the oil may separate, so be sure to stir well before using.