Summer Greens Emerge at the Community Garden

It's a gardener's delight this time of year! Community gardens that were bare two months ago are now rich with greens, vegetables, herbs and sunflowers. I am back from a 2+ week culinary tour of Florence, Tuscany and Rome -- more on that below -- and I am eager to see how the garden fares. I drive to Bible Street Community Garden in Cos Cob, CT, with my almost-five grandniece, Ceci. The dirt road is quiet, and we hear only sounds of turkeys and the rustle of hidden fawns. 

I am thrilled to see my garden plot is flourishing. 

The garden goes green, zucchinis blossom,
lushness takes over. Mini-gardener Ceci has a ball

• Arugula heads fill out, mutant radishes call for picking, fresh scallions grow tall, cucumber vines spread, basil takes hold, zucchinis blossom, and tomatoes and peppers reach skyward. 

• Crouching at the edge of the garden bed (the hill towns of Italy took their toll on my knees), I cull weeds, stake the peppers and cucumbers, place metal spirals around the tomatoes and tie up zucchini so stalks grow upward. 

• This is my first year of zucchini, and they are starting to spread and grow blossoms. One zucchini, about four inches, peeks though the stalks. My first! So proud. 

• This year I mixed seedlings bought from the community garden with seedlings grown at home and seeds sown directly in the plot. The community seedlings -- tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini -- are a foot taller than others and looking mature. Home-grown seedlings are not as tall, but they are healthy and catching up. Seed-planted basil stand tall enough so as not to confused with weeds.

I roughly plot out my plantings

The community garden hosts an array of herbs, lettuces, vegetables and flowers. Some gardeners' have tomatoes already forming (yellow flowers show up on mine, so there's hope). Others have sunflowers shooting up (July is the month for sunflowers), bean towers spitting out tendrils, and dill weed running riot. A few gardeners plant their vegetables in crisp rows, like soldiers. Other gardeners plant vegetables wherever space opens up. I am part of the latter camp: I track the items in a rough layout so I can remember what grows where. 

Using my vegetable bag I collect the first crop of the season. I harvest fresh arugula, scallions, basil and radishes and I savor them with freshly milled olive oil and balsamic vinegar brought back from Ravagni in Anghiari, Italy. Delicious! 

Diane and PJ Morello 
in Talamello in Emilia-Romagna

A final note: Our late-spring trip to Italy was filled with cooking classes, pasta making, bread baking and dessert making. For six days we visited hill towns in Tuscany, Emilia-Romagna and Les Marches. We learned how to make tortellini, stuffed olives (to die for), pizza, wine, prosciutto, gelato, olive oil and truffle paste. Best of all, we met other foodies who enjoy cooking, sipping, tasting and traveling as much as we do. If you want to take a culinary trip like this, check out Rustico Cooking for their Italy culinary trips. Micol and Dino are wonderful chefs and trip arrangers. 

Back to community gardening: How are your gardens doing? What veggies are new in your plots? Which veggies or herbs are starting to flower and mature? What's ready to harvest?

Ciao for now! 

-- Your intrepid garden blogger, Diane Tunick Morello 

The Day I Check Out the Late Harvest at the Community Garden

The temperature drops, the bugs disappear and newly planted hardy greens peek through the garden bed's surface dirt. It's mid-October and the temperature plummets 25 to 30 degrees in the past two days, frost is imminent.

Six pepper plants continue to bear fruit,
late-season arugula covers the garden bed

This morning I visit my garden for the first time in a week. I thrill to see September-planted arugula, fragile as micro greens, covering the garden bed. Green cherry tomatoes cling valiantly to dried vines, and with a wistful look, I chop them down and deposit them in the compost bin. Six peppers, five bell and one poblano, enjoy a growth spurt, even as the waning season produces fruit small enough to be served on a dollhouse dining table.

After weeks of seeing almost no one at the garden, I hit the jackpot. Maria, Gary and Mj all arrive to assess the late season harvest. We chat about what we can grow and eat at this time of year, what we will do differently next year and which community service jobs are yet to be done. 

• Maria shares several cloves of organic garlic to plant now for next summer. I dig a six-inch furrow and plant the cloves pointy side up. I am optimistic they will survive winter and be ready for me in July 2019.

• Gary shows me his Chinese long beans and gives me a taste of his mustard green. So biting, with a sharpness similar to horseradish. Love it!

• MaryJo, or Mj, tells me about the plans for the newly erected pergola -- climbers, creepers and vines will be planted in containers, grow upward over the posts and spread over the pergola's top, giving us much-needed relief during hot days, community activities and wine parties. I will be grateful for cool respite in the heart of summer. 

• Community service commitments are coming to a close, and many gardeners have barely scratched the surface of their commitments. I have one half hour remaining of the 10 hours to which I committed. Sweeping, weeding and clearing will wrap that up. I eagerly ask more about Maria's food bank team as I weigh whether to stick with the beautification team or try another volunteer assignment next year.

The Bible Street branch of Greenwich Community Gardens is tucked into the back woods of Greenwich in a neighborhood called Cos Cob. In contrast to the densely populated areas of Greenwich, the garden is peaceful, remote, almost hidden. 

Mama turkey cares for her poults. 
Photo source: 365 Days of Birds

Visiting the garden in spring, a herd of deer race past me into the woods, breaking the silence as they crash through brush and trees. In summer I drive slowly up the hidden driveway and find a female turkey resting quietly in the middle of the drive. As I come close, she lifts her huge body, revealing six to eight babies, or poults, beneath her, quickly marching them into the woods -- a woodland version of a woman with crinolined bustle hiding two to three toddlers beneath the skirt. Early morning I see yellow finches flitting across the garden beds, pecking at the seeds on the glorious sunflowers. Every so often deer and fawns peek out to stare before they disappear into their camouflage.

Fellow gardeners, it's been a glorious year, great fun as I learn to be a community gardener. In the next post I will explore plans for 2019. That said, I need to rename my blog. I have graduated from "Diane's First Community Garden." Ideas welcome! 

Ciao now, Diane Tunick Morello

The Day I Plant Late-Summer Seeds and Rip Out Poor Performers

Alan Gorkin, organic gardening
expert, gives us the rundown
on his own community garden bed  

I am impatient with my community garden. While the tomatoes grow prolifically -- I even pulled off two big red tomatoes today -- the other vegetables do not fare well. The cucumber hybrid bush, which looked healthy two weeks ago, today looks beat. Carrots produce nothing but fronds and weedy stalks. Bell peppers grow flowers but produce no new fruit. And the pattypan squash colorfully throw off blossoms, but yield no squash. What gives? What's next? Experienced gardeners, what do you do at this stage of your summer garden? 


On an overcast and humid Sunday, Alan Gorkin, organic gardening expert at Sleepy Cat Farms in Greenwich, visits the Bible Street branch of Greenwich Community Gardens. He walks us through which vegetables can be replaced and which can be newly planted. 

With his advice in my head, this morning at 7am I head to the garden and clear out frond-ridden carrots. Three months after planting carrot seeds, only one in five carrots are orange. The others are long, stringy and anemic. With the carrots stripped from the garden, I plant red-globe radishes, taverna green beans, blue lake bush beans and red beets. Still to come are arugula seeds and lettuces, which should tolerate the heat and deliver leaves through September. 

Tomatoes -- abbondanza!

As we near August, I make a few decisions to prepare for next year:

• No carrots. Carrots occupy too much space and yield inconsistent results. I see few carrots elsewhere in the community garden, so my decision appears to be prudent.
• Plant peppers on the opposite side of the garden from the tomatoes. Tomatoes grow well, but they block the sun. The peppers work too hard.
• Plant big tomatoes in the community garden. I planted four tomato plants -- two big tomatoes, two cherries -- and I inherited two "volunteer" cherry tomato plants from a neighboring plot or a previous gardener. Big tomatoes fit on BLTs better than cherries.
• Plant the pattypan squashes early. I followed the instructions on the seed packet and planted the pattypans in early June. The squash plants are blossoming, but I see no squash. Suggestions, anyone?

By the way, readers, this blog gets picked up locally in Connecticut, gets shared with friends and family through Facebook and Google+ and gets retweeted on the Twitter feed of NYC Community Gardens. Join the conversation and invite others to join. Speak to you soon. 

When Community Spirit Goes Hand in Hand with Community Service

Two cherry tomatoes ripen
in my community garden. 
But then I ate them.

Whew! We have quite a hot spell in Greenwich, CT. Temperatures climb above 90 degrees daily and a couple days they hit almost 100 degrees. At my community garden bed, I pluck two orange cherry tomatoes from my plants. I'll savor them later. (Another lesson learned: Pick tomatoes when they are ripe. Patience!)

Whereas my cherry tomatoes enjoy the heat, I do not. I have trepidation about fulfilling hours of community service in such extreme heat. Staying inside seems safer and more prudent than working outside in searing temperatures. But I am intrepid, so at eight in the morning on Independence Day, I head to Armstrong Court community garden to pitch in on beautification work.

Diane Tunick Morello, Ann Shifman-Deibler
and Clare Bolduc (l-r)

The mission today is to strip stubborn vines, weeds and branches from the fence surrounding the garden. The vines are impressive. They coil upward five to ten feet, form choke-holds around apple trees and shrubs and snake into the wood chips of the community garden. As we work, Clare, Ann and I chat about our garden beds, our lives in Fairfield County and our experiences with the community gardening spirit. Without a doubt, conversation makes the heat feel less oppressive and helps the job go quickly.

The next day I head to the Bible Street community garden for late-day weeding as part of the beautification team. I pass a (blurry) deer munching happily in the bushes as I drive down the dirt road. When I enter the gate of the garden, on the other hand, I feel as if I am walking into a wall of heat and humidity. 

The beautification work at this garden is tough. Seven or eight of us kneel and squat to remove weeds from the gravel surrounding the raised garden beds. Thankfully, conversation makes the work tolerable (um, cold water would be great). We introduce ourselves -- new gardeners and seasoned gardeners alike -- share our community garden experiences and check out the harvests in our respective garden plots. A few people tell me they read the blog, which makes me a happy camper.

My takeaway from this week's community service is simple: Community spirit -- a chief reason to sign up for the community garden experience -- pervades the work we perform, regardless of the nature of the work. It lifts us up and makes the hard work easier to handle. That said, next time I'll be looking for less back-breaking work. Ciao for now!