Walking with the onion again

My garden has been busy during all this rain. While I wasn't looking, the rhubarb went from too small for picking to sending up a flower stalk. The walking onions are developing flower heads. The comfrey is three feet tall. The weeds are rampant.

If celandine was a cash crop instead of an invasive weed, I'd be rich -- I have it in every garden, as well as covering the compost heap.

And the lawns? Out of control. Some parts are still too deep in water to mow.

I found a few surprises, like some pink forget-me-nots popping up where they were never planted, and this parrot tulip (I think it's a Professor Roentgen):

The strawberries have taken over the sandy garden. I had to take up well over 150 plants just to make room for vegetables. The rest of the berries are blossoming.

I managed to get in a dozen tomato plants and some cucumbers so far, and planted seeds for bush beans, pole beans, pumpkins and peas.

Now that my walking onions are established in the garden, there are plenty of mature onions to harvest. On the other hand, the leeks have petered out and are going to need replanting.

So when I went out to get ingredients for asparagus soup, I ended up with one leek and two walking onions. I think it came out just as tasty, but I typed up the recipe for folks without the unusual bulbs:

Cream of Asparagus Soup

2 Tbsp butter or olive oil
1 large leek OR 1 small sweet onion*
1-1/2 lb fresh asparagus
1 quart plus 1 can chicken broth
Fresh herbs of choice (I used about 1/2 tsp thyme and 1 tsp garlic chives)
4 Tbsp (1/2 stick) butter or margarine
1/4 cup flour
1 cup Land O'Lakes fat-free half-and-half**

Heat 2 Tbsp butter or olive oil in large soup pot. Add leek or onion and saute until soft.

Meanwhile, cut tips from asparagus and set aside. Cut the rest of asparagus into 1/2" pieces and add to onions in pan. Saute about 3 minutes.

Add broth; bring to boil, then lower heat, cover and simmer until asparagus is very soft (15 minutes or more).

Remove soup from heat; allow to cool enough to put in blender and puree. If you have an immersion blender, you can puree in the pot. You can also use a hand mixer if you're careful, or just skip the puree step altogether.

Return soup to medium heat. Add asparagus tips and herbs. Bring back to a simmer.

Melt 4 Tbsp of butter. Remove from heat. Whisk in flour until smooth.

Add butter/flour mixture slowly to simmering soup, stirring constantly until soup returns to a low boil. Simmer until asparagus tips are done.

Slowly stir in half-and-half, mixing thoroughly, just before serving.

* I actually used one small leek and two "walking onions," each about 3/4" diameter. I used the white and green parts of the leek and the white parts of the onions.

** LOL brand fat-free is the only brand I've found that will mix instead of separating when added to hot liquid.

Eating the walking onion

I told you I'd let you know when I harvested some of the walking onion and tried it in a recipe. So here it is.

But first, a look at the new babies that have rooted and sprouted:




I haven't dug or moved any of them yet, and haven't decided where they'll go anyway. It's a little shady where they decided to land, but maybe they like it that way.

So I pulled up half a dozen onions from the original clump last Monday and was surprised at how small they were -- almost like green onions, just a little bulbous. After I removed the skins and leaves, I didn't have much left to work with:




I cut the onions and the small leaves crosswise into thin rings and noticed they didn't have much of a smell.

I set them aside while I basted some boneless chicken breasts with mango-saffron-ginger sauce.

Then I started to notice a REALLY strong onion smell in the kitchen. Apparently, the fact that it was about 45 degrees outside when I picked them meant the odor was "frozen," and as they warmed up, it released. Boy, did it release! I had to cover them with a paper towel until I was ready for them.

I heated olive oil and a little butter in a skillet and threw the white parts of the onions in, cooking them until they were browned. I added the chicken breasts, sauce side up, and turned them when they were cooked halfway through. The onions stuck nicely to the chicken, and the sauce and chicken juice bubbled up around it. I then added the green bits for the last few minutes of cooking:



I served a side of Israeli couscous with baby garbanzos, orzo and red quinoa that I picked up at Trader Joe's in Massachusetts over the weekend, cooked with a can of chicken broth.

Conclusion: Walking onions are a lot of work for a little taste, but that taste is nice.

Before the frost

Okay, I'm still in mourning, but I'm pretty much over the denial phase. I've moved into the acceptance phase. I'm ready to look back at what I lost.

On October 11, before the killing frost, I took a few photos of some late bloomers, including these white dahlias:



They're now black and ready to be dug up and stored for the winter, along with some pink ones and a couple of cannas that I had in pots.

The pole beans not only had lots of beans ready to pick, but were still loaded with blossoms and promise:



At least I picked those that were ready, so we enjoyed a couple more dinners with them. I even had enough to put two meals' worth into the freezer.

The strawberries put out lots of runners. I still have to decide where they're going to go next year (and convince them of it).



Some wildflowers were experiencing a second season, like this chicory:



I even found a big mustard plant that kept blossoming right through the killing frost and is still going strong (this photo is from October 19 -- the dark green behind it is the dead pole beans):



And last but not least, an update on the walking onion. The tops reached the ground, rooted and sprouted, so I now have about a dozen new clumps. One more thing to reposition before the snow flies. And one more thing to taste, too -- I plan to use the parent onions in a dish yet to be determined ...

I'm baaaaaack

What's the record for longest time between blog posts by someone who isn't actually dead?

I think I broke it.

Yet another gardening season has rolled around and I am in the thick of it. Thick, as in you can't see my garden because of the weeds.

I had a rototiller once, but it conked out, then got stuck in a spring flood. Twice. Anybody want a third-hand, early 1990s, flooded Troy-Bilt for parts? You haul it away, it's yours.

So I dig. And fork. And spade. And trowel. And power up big rocks with a shovel or a pike. It's called aerobic gardening. :)

One fine crop of dandelions has already flowered and gone to seed. I got about a third of them out of the veg bulb garden before that happened, so my leeks and walking onions got to see the sun.

The walking onions are kind of fun. If you like nice, neat rows of well-behaved plants, you would not like these at all. But if you like something a little quirky, they may be for you.











Instead of flowers, they have lumpy and twisted clusters of new onions growing at the top of a fat, hollow stalk. The bulblets fall to the ground (or the stalk softens and falls over), starting new plants where they hit the dirt. Thus they slowly "walk" around your garden!

And yes, you can eat them. I only planted mine last year, so I let them grow, but I may harvest some this summer. I'll let you know. Really. The same year.