The Relic

Plain Old Tomato Paste (YAWN)

The item pictured to your immediate right no longer serves any useful purpose. It is covered with dust. It sits in a kitchen cupboard accomplishing nothing at all other than blocking our path from other useful food items. It is as useful as that old television set gathering dust in your garage. If this was the "Utlimate Computer" episode from original Star Trek series fame, the name of this can would be "Captain Dunsel."

It short, it is the "most uninteresting can in the world."

So why keep it around then? That's a good question! Perhaps it serves as a reminder of a different time in our lives.  Perhaps we might need this in a pinch one day in the near future, however I doubt that very much. It has as much use now as that old jar of Herdez brand salsa, which has since been washed out and now contains syrup for pancakes (recycling! It works!).

Recent Garden Harvest-Salsa Anyone?

This is the State of Bird -- 2012. Venus and I haven't purchased a jar of anything containing a tomato product in God-knows-how-long. Purchases of tomato sauce, tomato paste, whole tomatoes, cut up tomatoes, tomatoes with herbs, tomatoes-infused-with-garlic, hot salsa, medium salsa, etc. haven't been on a Bird shopping list for years. This is what it means to garden. Call us snobs, and perhaps we are, but why buy any of these things when we can create an even better product and bottle it up at home?

Snobs we are. Because that's what we do. And, perhaps, it might be the reason why I haven't been blogging much as of late. August means harvest season in the Bird Back 40 -- and what a whopper of a harvest it's been. Although it's petered off somewhat, the garden will continue to produce as long as weather permits. And if the good Lord gives us the kind of weather that pays off in another 15 pint jars of lip smacking Roasted Garlic, Pepper and Heirloom Tomato Salsa, Herb-infused tomato sauce or additional quarts of whole heirloom tomatoes -- I won't complain.

Herbed Picante Tomato Sauce

Our latest project containing garden grown goodies is pictured upper left. Harvests like these were the norm during the months of July and August. And with each and every harvest of peppers, tomatoes, herbs, etc -- a tasty canning project awaited. Would it be fresh cut up tomatoes with herbs and peppers? Pickled peppers perhaps? Sliced and pickled Mucho Nacho Jalapeno peppers? It really depended upon what the garden gave us on that particular harvest day.

If there's one other hard lesson I've learned about home-canning efforts, it's this. One does not make an appointment with the garden to tackle a canning project. The garden doesn't make an appointment with you, either (next Sunday good with you? OK!). The vegetable garden tells you when it's ready. Best be prepared. Miss a day? Miss a lot. When the garden is ready, you're ready. Those fifty ripe tomatoes aren't going to sit around and wait for you forever and a day.

Whole Tomato Canning Project-Summer 2012

Although we're far short from calling ourselves master canners -- or master anything for that matter -- we've done this enough times to know exactly what kind of tools we'll need and what kind of jobs must be accomplished. Putting together a home-canned salsa -- for example -- is far more difficult than a project of whole tomatoes. A simple batch of Roasted Garlic, Pepper and Heirloom Tomato Salsa is far from simple, and requires multiple steps from roasting to peeling to chopping to processing.

Exact measurements are an absolute must for projects like these. If you're not following time-tested canning recipes to the letter, or pushing the envelope a bit, you're risking a trip to your local hospital and a stomach-pump procedure. Although a procedure like this has never been performed on yours truly, it doesn't exactly sound like a fun way to spend a Saturday night!

A Caitlin Contreras Original

Naming rights also come into play when you're tackling a project like this. Who wants to give a home-canned project a name like "tomato sauce" or just plain ol' "salsa." Why confine yourself to terms like "medium" and "hot" on the spicy scale? Why not "volcanic" instead? Or -- hold a Facebook naming contest as we recently did for our last batch of salsa. Although Dan Vierra (former Sacramento Bee garden editor and writer) was on his game with suggestions like "Cremation Mix," it was Caitlin Contreras who knocked it out of the park with her suggestion of "Almost-As-Hot-As-Venus."

The wife that is Venus approved. Caitlin's double-entendre name selection also earned her a free jar of salsa.

The payoff for all this hard work comes in the dead of winter. Grocery stores are selling rocks disguised as red tomatoes for $3 lb. or more.  Although you can pick up two or three cans of off-brand sauce for a buck, there's nothing quite like the feeling or SMELL of opening a jar of heirloom tomatoes that you processed the previous summer. That fresh-from-the-vine harvest smell and experience wafts up and encompasses an entire kitchen.

Summer's Bounty: Heirloom Tomatoes

That, my friends, is the payoff. This is what makes all that hard work worth it and more. Dinner that night will be reminder of those carefree warm summer days.

Snobbery has its rewards.

Did someone say recipes? You can find the recipe for our original Roasted Garlic, Pepper and Heirloom Tomato Salsa here. Another favorite is posted below. All have been tested and are "canning safe."

Herbed Picante Tomato Sauce

(a Sharon Howard original recipe)

NOTE: Food processor or blender required...You will also need canning equipment like this.

24 cups smooshed tomatoes whirred smoothish
4 cups chopped herbs of your choice

1 cup finely chopped jalapeno peppers (including seeds)
12 TBSP bottled lemon juice
2 TBSP coarse salt.

I use basil, oregano and parsley but you can use only one or two or three and you don't need to use equal amounts, in other words you can go 2/3 basil 1/3 parsley just DON’T increase the amount of herbs or peppers. Bill and Venus use whatever herbs they have in large amounts from the herb garden. This includes basil, oregano, sage, majoram, spicy oregano, thyme, etc.

Directions:

Fresh Garden Herbs

Add all items together and bring to a rolling boil. Lower heat to a high simmer, you want to see some action but not a full boil. After coming to the boil a foam will form, skim it off.

Place your one-pint canning jars in the dishwasher, when the jars are done so is the sauce. I generally cook about an hour, you can go longer. I don't like to cook less than an hour 'cause I want some thickening to take place while canning so it doesn't need to much cook time when I use it.

Place canning lids into a pot of hot water after washing. Bring to a simmer, but not a full boil.

Fill jars as normal. Wipe tops of jars to ensure a tight seal. Seal to finger tight with lids and rings. Hot Water Bath for 45 minutes. Or pressure can at 15 lbs. for 25 minutes.

Turn Out the Lights!!!!

Bird Back 40 Asparagus Patch

As Dandy Don Meredith of ABC's Monday Night Football would croon at the end of games (especially blowouts):

"Turn Out the Lights...

The Party's Over...

They Say That...

All Good Things Must End...

Call it Tonight...

The Party's Over...

And Tomorrow Starts...

The Same Old Thing Again..."

Willie Nelson wrote those amazing lyrics and sings that amazing song. But I don't know if it would be quite as popular today, had not one of the best Color Commentators in all of football crooned that same, signature song again and again and again.

It's the song that comes to mind when looking at the asparagus patch pictured above. Venus and I planted asparagus crowns just last spring, really not knowing what to expect. After all, we'd never grown asparagus before. Have you? Was it supposed to erupt in a tangled mass of ferns like it did last summer? Because it most certainly did.

Asparagus Spears Allowed to Flower and Fern

Hidden most of the summer by the Bird Back 40 corn crop, those tiny root systems for Jersey Knight and Purple Passion bolted into a cacophany of fern growth that promptly grew straight up and then flopped over on the ground after reaching a height of three to four feet. Any fern that flopped was immediately replaced by another spear -- which also proceeded to fern and flop.

There were many times during the summer, I might add, where Bill Bird was more than just a tad tempted to cut that fat green or purple spear literally jumping out of the raised bed that holds the Bird asparagus patch. So was the wife that is Venus. But we managed to resist that urge -- knowing all the while -- that each fern would most likely result in a multitude of fat asparagus spears next spring.

That's the hope anywho. Like I mentioned earlier, we've never attempted anything like this before.

We had plenty of questions -- but very little in the way of answers. Was this fern growth normal? Should we be doing anything special to the asparagus patch during the ferning and flopping process -- rather than fawning over it every third day? Should we allow the ferns to flop? Stake them up? So many questions -- so little answers.

Asparagus Ferns

Normally -- in times of need like this -- I turn to one or more gardening mentors like Farmer Fred Hoffman, Don Shor of Redwood Barn Nursery fame or former Sacramento Bee Home and Garden Editor Dan Vierra. But, to be brutally honest, I really do bug these people too much with incessant questioning. It was time to do some searching on my own, and as a very wise man once taught me, "Google is your friend."

Indeed!

The most helpful "how too" articles that I came across were "Growing ASPARAGUS in the Garden" from the UC Davis Vegetable Research and Information Station and "Growing Asparagus in the Home Garden" from the University of Ohio Horticulture and Crop Science Extension service. Both were loaded with tips (asparagus tips I might add) -- and both confirmed that Venus and I were off to a rather rousing start.

In fact -- the best bit of advice came from Carl J. Cantaluppi (University of Ohio) when he wrote: "The year after planting, asparagus can be harvested several times throughout a three-week period, depending on air temperatures. Research shows there is no need to wait two years after planting before harvesting. In fact, harvesting the year after planting will stimulate more bud production on the crown and provide greater yields in future years, as compared with waiting two years before harvesting.

This was indeed -- tremendous news. Venus and I had been under the belief that it would be at least two seasons before we could harvest our first spears. Yet here was plain advice from a crop scientist advocating to pick, pick and pick away after just one year of fern growth. Do you know what this means?

Asparagus Ferns Removed (Cut Back)

It means that the bed that has now been cut back of dead fern growth will be throwing out delicious spears of asparagus this spring, just in time for Easter Supper at the Bird Ranch. Nothing -- I mean absolutely NOTHING -- is better than what you can grow in your own little patch of yard. This is a rule that applies to all produce -- and I can only begin to imagine what kind of taste surprise will result from our own home-grown asparagus.

These same articles (links are above) -- while confirming that we were indeed on the right path -- also contained tips that I never would have crossed my mind (unless someone told me to do it). Those ferns that had erupted from the asparagus crowns (roots) that we planted last spring were actually quite beneficial. They were sending all kinds of important nutrients into the crowns (root systems) below. The more fern activity -- the better. More ferns result in more spears -- bigger and better spears I might add.

But there also comes a time when enough is enough. Those ferns don't last. In fact, as you can tell from the photos, many of them have turned brown. Some -- much to my surprise -- completely withered away. I discovered this as I hacked the fern growth back to ground level. The instructions that I encountered online advised a "haircut and close shave," as those former spears that erupted into ferns will become quite woody and quite *sharp* during the overwintering process.

We don't want to be slicing up fingers when slicing tender shoots of asparagus next spring, now do we?

Asparagus Hidden by Ferns

That "shave and a haircut (two bits)" is now complete. What's more surprising, although the thought did cross my mind, is that the removal of the dead and dying ferns revealed the growth of ASPARAGUS SPEARS! Sure enough -- what may be the first tender shoots of spring-time growth were popping just above the soil line.

Now -- it's entirely possible that this growth will also result in additional ferns -- which will be cut back later this winter. Then again, the growth rate might be so slow that these spears may be the first we actually harvest during our short, three week, asparagus season. This season, by the way, will expand with time and additional years of growth. But, for the first year? Three weeks is all you get.

That's fine by us. As the wife that is Venus says -- three weeks is better than no weeks. We're looking forward to a rather tasty backyard harvest. See you in the spring!