Pretty soon after we moved from NYC to Virginia, Brian and I installed raised beds in the backyard. Brimming with a sense of accomplishment and pride, we filled them with dirt and began planting tiny tomatoes, pickling cucumbers, peppers, zucchini, squash, and herbs. Admittedly, that was kind of a lot for two two by four foot beds. No matter! I wanted a garden! I thought we’d be living off of it come August. But the rainy, then humid Virginia summer had other plans.
It started with the San Marzanos getting whiteflies. I treated that and then powdery mildew kicked in. After that it was leaf spot, and chubby yellow bugs I didn’t even have the heart to look up because basically, my garden was dead. The squash rotted and fell out after giving up maybe two? The zucchini held on for a while, but it’s dead now too. Cukes? Also dead. The herbs are fine and the peppers are getting a chance to grow now that the tomatoes have withered, though I doubt they’ll have the chance to fruit.
Sigh, the tomatoes. I shoved seven plants in that garden. They were rather crowded. No air. The San Marzanos were the first to go, producing just a trickle of fruit; nowhere near enough for my homestead canning aspirations. Now there’s a clump of half withered and spotty, half green and growing tomatoes. Lessons have been learned, humility acquired.
Despite all this, the odd tomato occasionally makes its way from the backyard to the kitchen. Mostly tiny cherry tomatoes, but a few Green Zebras, and the occasional beefsteak. The Green Zebras, coming in one or two at a time, found a nice home in this salad, which turned out to be kind of perfect for the season. Summer’s last tomatoes and plums snuggle in with lacinato kale and roasted beets, two staples of the colder months to come. All the jewel tones, the chartreuse green of the heirlooms, purple plums, and magenta beets, arranged against the deep green hues of the kale make it a beautiful dish, too. And it kind of mirrors my feelings about the season. After getting schooled by the Virginia summer and having my once beautiful garden do worse than my ramshackle rooftop container garden in Brooklyn ever did, I’m ready for fall; then again, perhaps I’ll hold on to summer just a little bit longer.
Roasted Beet, Satsuma Plum & Green Zebra Lacinato Kale Salad (inspired by this beauty from The First Mess)
serves two
for the beets
4 small or 2 medium beets, trimmed and peeled
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
fresh ground pepper to taste
Preheat oven to 450 degrees.
Toss the beets in the olive oil and balsamic, fan out on a rimmed baking sheet, and sprinkle with sea salt and pepper.
Roast for 25 minutes. Use a spatula to remove the beets from the baking sheet. Next, tip the sheet and scrape any of the juice into a small bowl (kind of awkward, I know); it may be a very small amount, but do your best to get all you can.
for the salad
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
pinch of sea salt
4 cups lacinato kale, cut into thin ribbons
3 Satsuma or other sweet plums, quartered and pitted
2 small Green Zebra tomatoes, or whatever tomato you like, cut into wedges
1/4 cup shaved Parmesan
Whisk the vinegar and sea salt into the olive oil, and then whisk into the bowl of collected beet juices. Drizzle about half the mixture over the kale leaves. Use your fingers to massage the dressing into the kale. Toss in the roasted beets, plums, and tomatoes, and finish with another drizzle of vinaigrette. Top with shaved Parmesan and a few twists of fresh ground pepper.
Serve salad with big hunks of crusty bread and a bowl of olive oil.
Laura says
Ah, your observations don’t speak of failure to me. Sounds like there were a few edibles in there and hey, now you know better right? I’ve had some HUGE and very emotionally crushing garden defeats. fighting to get the plants to work on a system together when they just didn’t want to or trying to naturally fight off the pests that clearly warranted a chemical assault. Nature is haaaard! Love that you were inspired by that salad–still one of my faves. That jewel-toned beet shot at the end is pretty glorious too.
Brooklyn Supper Admin says
Thanks for the kind words of encouragement, Laura. Nature *is* hard; lesson learned! But I’m already planning next year’s garden, and thinking I’ll go for a better mix of hearty greens and show pony tomatoes. And I’m SO glad you like that beet pic!
Nicole says
I’m sorry to hear about your garden woes. I’m afraid the same would happen to me if I tried. Thank goodness for CSA’s. Green Zebras are my favorite! This salad looks amazing.
Brooklyn Supper Admin says
Nicole, you are so right about CSAs. We were so new here in the spring we didn’t sign up, but I really regret it. Next year, I’ll try to actually plan my garden and do a better job of accounting for all that nature (I hope?).
Sarah Crowder (punctuated. with food) says
Growing food has such a steep learning curve! So much to learn depending on your climate, soil, yearly surprises etc. That’s what I loooove about it – it has physical and mental challenges. Btw last year I moved from a farm in VA to Brooklyn. Looking forward to following your adventures.
Brooklyn Supper Admin says
Hi Sarah, That’s so funny that we traded! It’s all about the learning curve for me. How could I have thought I had it all figured out after growing tomatoes in the city for 10 years? I really thought I was a pro. Sigh.
meg says
We had a similar gardening experience in Tennessee. Our second years was by far better than our first, but southern summers are not kind to vegetables. The most heartbreaking experience was having our tomato plants loaded with fruit, then having a downpour and all the fruit bursting open. But we learned so much from all that effort (part of it involving me on my hands and knees killing harlequin bugs one by one), and we’re game for another year (as I’m sure you are!).
Brooklyn Supper Admin says
Hi Meg, Glad to hear there’s hope for me yet! And you’re so right, I am *totally* in for next year. Nature, this stuff is ON!
Ali @ Inspiralized says
I really wish I had the ability to grow my own vegetables, the whole cooking experience would be entirely different. Makes me want to move to Brooklyn and have my own backyard garden. Very inspirational!
Brooklyn Supper Admin says
Hi Ali, glad you think so! I loved gardening in the city and having my own tiny slice of the natural world.
la domestique says
Oh dear, I know that is so disappointing for you! There’s always next year, and in the meantime you’ve got this lovely kale salad to console you.
Brooklyn Supper Admin says
So true, Jessica, so true. Thanks for your kind words!
Kimberley says
I can relate. It seems every place has its own quirky nuances. Here it is never warm enough and the cool air settles in and encourages all kinds of rot. I grow cherry tomatoes every year and just hope that I get some fruit before powdery mildew takes over. Have you read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle? It’s about gardening in Virginia. 🙂
Brooklyn Supper Admin says
Hi Kimberley, I guess we all have our challenges, right? I haven’t read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle (is that OK to admit?). Will pick it up and treat it like a gardening primer ASAP.
phi @PrincessTofu says
I can relate (2). My only 3 edible plants have all died – 2 because they got aphids from my roommate’s sick plant and the other because, the gods?
All the more reasons to love our farmers!
Crista says
I’m so sorry to hear about your garden! I had a really hard time with my garden this year too…. and it’s certainly nothing to look at right now….. :-/