a clear winner: rainbow swiss chard

Rainbow chard, in repose

Hard to argue with hearty swiss chard. Eight plants produce gorgeous leaves and stalks and a weekly vegetable serving. Here's to hoping it is the perennial that my neighbor claims it will be.

The Endless Aperol Apertif

Aperol and Tonic for the Masses

In the summer months, I struggle often with what to have when I come home. The six o'clock hour is a mild one in my garden. The daytime warmth is enveloping, but the sun has set behind the big oak across the way, making the heat more comfortable than overbearing. It is during these times that I want a drink both refreshing and stimulating. I tend toward an acidic white or rosé, but it tends to leave me parched. A gin and tonic is also refreshing, but can often knock me out.

So I made up this. 2 oz. Aperol, 1 oz. tonic syrup, 2 oz. soda water. Stir. Add ice. Top with soda water. Garnish with lemon peel that is broken and expressed so that citrus hits the nose immediately.

The first few sips are all soda water. Then you start to catch the Aperol and tonic misture. Just as you do, top off with soda water.

Standing up

What one ends up with is a constantly refreshing drink that allows for ups and downs in intensity. I can usually get 24 oz. of water into this mixture before I have to make another. It's a different take on the cocktail/water back combination.

Tonic Water #7: Machine in the Garden

baby lemongrass

I'm ready for a change. I've been making variations on tonic #3 for some time, pushing the coriander to give the resulting tonic a little spice. Now I'm moving into the garden. For this flavor profile, I cut down lemongrass and lavender.

The only problem is that my lemongrass is not fully grown. So I had to use anemic stalks. Alas.

lavender in bloom (on the right)

The lavender is also not prolific. It is being crowded out at present by the bee balm, which I would get rid of if I didn't like having the explosion of purple in my front planter. It's nice and all, but it prevents my other herbs from growing.

I had about a handful of lavender and about eight tiny stalks of lemongrass to use.

The big change was that I added them last. So it looked like this

Bring 4 cups water to a boil, covered. Add:

1/4 cup citric acid

1/4 cup cinchona bark

1/4 tsp salt

Reduce to a simmer, covered, and let simmer for 40 minutes.

Then, cut heat and add lemongrass and lavender.

Muddle. Stir.

Allow to steep for 2 hours. Or however long. Stir periodically, if desired. Move to fridge.

I will let it sit for exactly two days before running it through cheescloth and pressing the lavender/lemongrass/cinchona mixture to extract any last flavor. Then I'll let it sit for exactly two more days clarifying before running it through a paper filter.

My hope is that this produces a more fragrant, nose-centered tonic. One that you feel good smelling before you put in the drink and that gives it just a little more pop. I fear, however, that the cinchona bark is unforgiving and only takes dark flavors, like cloves. But then again, I can always up the amount of lavender and lemongrass if this proves a noble failure.

Oh Kale... (and garden updates)

Just a summer update on the status of my garden, which has chugged away this spring and summer with surprising alacrity. After last year's massive disappointment™, the Georgia sun has smiled upon us, and given us just enough growing days both to maximize the early lettuce crop and get the tomatoes off to a running start.

Among the biggest hits this summer are sugar snap peas. Sweet and punchy, and so delicious that my seven year old has devoured them almost as fast as they have grown up. More than once we were able to send them in her lunch. Given how well these delicate climbing vines like the cold weather, I want to take a run at fall growing in greater numbers.

Winterbor in summer

Kale has been resilient and prolific and as tender as this thick green leaf can get. We planted two varieties. The superior plant was Nero di Toscana, an Italian heirloom that produces almost beveled leaves, long and flat and dark green. The other is Winterbor Kale, a hybrid that is, surprise of surprises, winter-hardy.

The Toscana leaf does have a superior taste, no question. This might be why the bugs like it. At least, I presume the leaves have been somewhat mauled by the bugs. While that does not affect flavor (there is plenty of leaf to go around), it does lessen the aesthetic effect. Effectively. But I might try more marigolds with this next year.

The Winterbor leaf is actually the prettier of the two. It produces a curled blue-green leaf that almost shimmers in the light. And while the Toscana leaf has a superior taste, both in depth and texture, the Winterbor is formidable in its own right. If one likes Kale, one loves this Kale. At least from my garden.

I have no idea what is to become of the Kale as summer grinds on. I don't know if it will return or if I must replant it. We shall see. If I do, then I must take care to listen to the instructions and plant 12 to 24 inches apart. My plants are too crowded at present, and it stunts leaf production.

Cobbler, anyone?

The rest of the garden soldiers on. The tomatoes are popping up quickly and flowering and fruiting. I'm guessing another 30 days to some good production.

The blueberries are looking taut. And tasty. Let us pray. The strawberries have already produced and will continue to produce. They are sweet and soft.

cuke in the cage

It's a good garden year. The cucumbers are up and running. The broccoli has been tender. The radishes peppery.