Changing how I see what our garden produces

I was out digging the carrots in the garden today, and I had this revelation about how home gardens actually are versus what we thought they should be when we first started out.

When I first began keeping a garden, I had this idea that I would grow the foods that I saw in the grocery store. I would grow carrots, iceberg lettuce, tomatoes, green beans, peas, cabbage, and corn. Those were the foods that my family was happy to eat. So I thought that's what I'd grow. 

In reality, iceberg lettuce is hard to grow to maturity here. The squirrels and raccoons have decimated our corn when we've tried to grow it. And the peas are hit or miss for us. We do always get plenty of tomatoes, some green beans, at least a couple of good heads of cabbage, and carrots of varying shapes and sizes. One glaring difference in the foods that I can grow here is that they almost never look anything like grocery store produce. Some of this year's carrots are so wonky-looking. The cabbage heads have their share of bug bites. And the green beans and tomatoes have obvious blemishes.

But appearance isn't the only thing I've had to adjust my thinking on. I've made an abrupt departure on my thoughts of what to grow. As it turns out, kale does exceptionally well here. Up until 25 years ago, I'd never eaten kale. I planted it anyway and we've learned to like it. Almost the same thing with rhubarb. I had tried rhubarb in a pie when I was young, but I was not impressed. Rhubarb loves my climate. So we grow and eat a lot of rhubarb.

It isn't just what I grow, but the parts of each vegetable that we consider food in our house. Turnips do okay here. But it's the leaves that outperform the roots. So, I grow turnips for the leaves. Ditto on radishes. We eat turnip greens and radish greens now with no hesitation. Funny thing, I've never seen turnip greens or radish greens sold by themselves without the roots attached in the market. Hmmm, maybe other folks don't appreciate bitter greens like my family has learned to do.

In my garden-to- kitchen lifestyle, I've had to develop an eye for opportunity in the whole plants. Today while digging the carrots, I realized that we really get very little in the way of actual carrots for eating. What does seem to grow in copious amounts is the carrot tops. 

I've chopped and frozen carrot leaves in previous years. but I think I was thinking of the green portion as a little bonus, but not always used in a timely manner. Today I tried to switch up my thinking a bit and see the opportunity I had before me with freshly dug carrots. 

Carrot leaves are delicate in flavor. I've decided not to freeze the leaves for future additions to soups and stews this year, but instead see them as a focal ingredient to use in a seasonal soup or an unusual pesto. The availability of fresh carrot leaves is fleeting each year. They will only stay fresh on my newly dug carrots for a day or two. Today I made a cream of carrot soup that was quite delicious. Tomorrow I plan on making a carrot leaf pesto. After enjoying the soup at lunch, I found myself rethinking the leaves as an extra part of the vegetable and more of a part on equal footing with the roots.

I have a similar experience with the garlic scapes each year. I'd grow the garlic for the scapes alone each year, they're that delicious. And yet when was the last time you saw garlic scapes sold in the supermarket? 

Many of the delicacies we gather from the garden are so fragile and have such a short store-life, only home gardeners get to enjoy them. 

So, instead of thinking how unfortunate it is that I can't grow iceberg lettuce or corn, I'm trying to see how rich I am in many delightful treats that others don't have available to them.