A Lizard's Ball Sack

Hmm...

Let's just roll that one around in the back of ye olde cranium for a second or two -- shall we?

During my eons of professional radio broadcasting education at Fresno State University -- the all-knowing professors instructed us to write flowery prose that created an image in the listener's mind. Instead of the line; "it rained real hard here today," we came up with image provoking lines of; "there's a small lake forming at the intersection of Shaw and Cedar Avenues..."

Imagine the image that comes to mind when you think of the phrase: "A Lizard's Ball Sack."

On second thought -- don't.

Yet -- that is how the "significant other" of a well-known Sacramento gardener describes the "look" of an artichoke that is slowly emerging from the center of an artichoke plant. After hearing that line -- suddenly my excitement vanished. My taste for all things "artichoke" went south (probably to Fresno). All I could think of was: Look at Bold Line Above.

First -- I really don't know what a lizard's private parts look like. Secondly -- I really don't want to know. Yes -- we do have small lizards that scamper about here in the wilds of North Natomas. No -- I am not inspecting the private parts of said lizard. And -- in case you were wondering -- no -- I'm not about to "go there."

I don't think the lizard would appreciate the inspection either -- but that's just a guess on my part. I haven't questioned a lizard lately. Have you?

Image provoking comments aside -- I don't think I'm going to surprise anyone with the statement of: Spring Has Sprung. It's fairly obvious. Vast fields of yellow mustard are blooming like mad in North Natomas. The daffodils popped early in February and now the tulips have shown up. The shower of blossoms that emerged from the Santa Rosa plum has come and gone -- and now? We have artichokes.

What's the big deal? Well -- number one -- I think this is the first time I've seen them pop this early. Usually? The first buds on an artichoke plant don't emerge until early to mid April. By the time May and June rolls around? It's fresh artichoke season in the Sacramento Valley. It does coincide somewhat with the start of artichoke harvesting efforts on the coast -- which means the grocery store headlines of "Artichokes: Five for $5" isn't all that far off.

But -- again -- I'm partial to what comes straight out of my backyard. I grew them. I know exactly what I put into them. I know exactly what I'm getting. And what I'm getting is some of the best artichokes you'll find anywhere. My guess is Venus and I will be harvesting the largest 'chokes in another week or two. It sort of depends upon the weather.

Speaking of the weather -- the series of rainstorms that is supposed to hit the Sacramento area this week is coming at an opportune time for backyard artichoke enthusiasts such as myself. I've discovered through experimentation that a heavy dose of water and fertilizer through the prime growing months results in large harvests of not only large artichokes -- but 'chokes that are just as tender.

Yes -- you'll still get artichokes without the increased attention to water and fertilization. The first harvest will still be pretty good. But the second, third and dare I say fourth, harvests will result in artichokes that are smaller in size -- and worse yet -- tough to chew on. How tough? How much do you like chewing on leather?

The wonderful wife that is Venus and I are sharing fertilization duties this year. The lady has hit upon a super-secret (so secret that she won't even tell me) mix of liquid organic fertilizers and I have been spreading nitrogen-rich -- time-release fertilizers such as Osmocote and other pelleted plant foods.

Is there such a thing as too much love for artichokes? If there is -- we haven't found it yet. Lord knows -- we're trying various experiments from year to year. It just doesn't seem to matter much. The more love that you show artichokes? The more love that they will show you in terms of a prolonged harvest.

How long will the harvest be? That depends upon Mother Nature. If the Grand Dame provides us with pleasant spring-time temperatures in the mid 70's to lower 80's -- you can stretch an artichoke harvest for three months. BUT -- the moment the mercury rises above 90? Kiss the season goodbye. The large plants don't like the heat much.

At that point -- they shut down -- die back -- and wait for the cooler breezes of fall. That's when the life cycle begins anew.

As for varieties? That's a good question. Venus and I know we have different varieties of artichokes that are growing out of the same bed. They're easy to spot. But the names were lost years ago. The artichokes that you see in these pictures started from four starter plants that were purchased from an Elk Grove area nursery in the spring of 2003.

They have survived year after year after year of abuse. They have even survived a transplant from one backyard to another. Just like the old Timex watch -- "they take a licking and keep on ticking."

Strangely -- that line brings back the image of a lizard's ball sack.

Pinkston -- clearly -- wants to change the subject.

Belly Up to the Bar Boys (and Girls)!!!

Some people might mistake this as a citrus patch. Don't be silly. If you've spent the same amount of time in Sacramento area dive bars as I have -- then you know what this is!

It's the Bird Supply of Margarita Mixers :)

Next stop: Margaritaville. The Improved Meyer Lemon pictured to your right is now in its second year and producing. Not a lot -- not yet. But this is just the start. Check back in about seven to ten years.

The point here is -- wifey and I LOOOOOVE fresh citrus. We can't get enough of it. There was a time and place years ago -- when a former roommate delivered freshly harvested lemons from a fifty plus year old lemon tree from her southeast Fresno backyard.

Best lemons on the planet bar none. No delivery was too large. She couldn't bring enough. Venus and I would set up the electric juicer (the best invention known to all mankind) and juice to our heart's content.

That juicing session would normally result in three or four gallons of freshly squeezed lemon juice. No matter. We would freeze a lot of it. The rest went into batches of LIP SMACKING LEMONADE -- and yes -- I must admit -- we did make our fair share of Margaritas.

As we sat together in that Citrus Heights duplex sipping Manna from Heaven -- the woman that I loved and I both vowed that someday we would have our own little slice of heaven.

Fast foward to North Natomas 2009 -- and Heaven is slowly on its way.

Of course -- we did plant some citrus at our first Natomas home. But you can't really plant much in a backyard that isn't much bigger than a shoe closet. Still -- if you visit that first backyard today -- you will find a Dwarf Meyer Lemon and a Dwarf Mexican (Key) Lime.

Wonderful trees -- no doubt. But they weren't going to satisfy our citrus desires. Not by a longshot. This is the sad truth about dwarf anything: sure -- it fits in a small spot. But the harvest is rather disappointing. Small trees result in small harvests and that's the sad truth.

That's why my wonderful wife and I needed the large yard. We didn't want dwarf trees. We wanted BIG MONSTERS that produce a boatload of citrus year in and year out without fail. We want the lemon and lime trees that will keep us pickled in margaritas year-round. We want a never-ending supply of fresh-squeezed orange juice. We want a tasty supply of tangerines and satsumas that never end. And we want it all right outside our back door.

Pie in the Sky thinking? Mebbe. But, we're getting there.

We've chose to populate one of the side yards as our own, personal, Margarita "patch." This little corner of heaven currently contains an Improved Meyer Lemon, Bearss Lime, Washington Navel Orange and the tree pictured to your right: The Dancy Tangerine.

Soon to come? An Owari Satsuma and another lemon. It might be another Improved Meyer -- or EUREKA! It just might be a Eureka. Sorry. Lame attempt at a joke there.

It is the Dancy that has done best so far -- although the Meyer Lemon isn't far behind. I found the Dancy Tangerine at Home Depot a year ago last December. It had just come off the delivery truck. It was LOADED with bright orange tangerines -- about 20 of them. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

Other people nearby spotted it too when it came off that delivery truck. We all made a mad dash for it. It's probably the only race I have ever won in my lifetime. I grabbed it first -- brought it home -- enjoyed that first harvest with Venus and then gave our tangerine tree a prime spot in the side yard.

I was a little disappointed when it failed to produce anything last year -- but this year? Different story completely. I was a little concerned at first when these strange green sticks -- devoid of any leaf cover -- emerged from the top of the tree and started growing at an exponential rate. But -- as it turned out -- there was no reason to be concerned. Those were new branches emerging and they soon leafed out.

The Meyer Lemon is current starting to exhibit the same growth spurt. I know in time that the size of these trees will double -- triple -- quadruple. I don't want small trees. I want monsters. Monster trees deliver a monster harvest. Our goal? Keep the neighborhood pickled in margaritas.

There's no question in my mind that the denizens of the Hello Kitty Beehive aided in this year's citrus production. We went from zero production last year to outstanding production in the space of one year. And -- as each citrus tree flowered -- the bees attacked each blossom.

We've been harvesting limes for the past week or two -- which go wonderful in a bottle of Pacifico or beef stir fry creation that we grabbed off the internets recently. I've put the recipe below -- and I wish you the best of luck -- but I can pretty much assure that you won't be able to duplicate this incredible taste.

Unless you too have a lime tree in your backyard. Because there's nothing quite like a tree-ripened, freshly harvested, Bearss Lime.

Stir Fry Lime Beef Bomb (I made that up)

Note: We usually double this recipe

1/4 cup freshly squeezed lime juice (about two limes)

1 tablespoon soy sauce

1 tablespoon sugar

1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes

1 tablespoon Sesame Seed Oil (note: you can use any oil -- but Sesame Seed Oil adds to the taste)

1/2 lb. steak (tri-tip works best)

Salt and ground pepper

Directions: Cut beef into long, thin strips and layer into a wide, raised bowl. Once the first layer is complete -- sprinkle liberally with salt and pepper. Add a second layer of beef and again sprinkle with salt and pepper. Keep repeating this process depending on how much of this you make.

Mix lime juice, soy sauce, sugar, red pepper flaks and oil together. Mix well. Pour half to three quarters of this mixture over beef. Let soak at least 30 minutes before stir frying or just frying in a regular frying pan.

Cook through until most of the lime mixture has evaporated. Or -- if you enjoy a raw beef -- reduce cooking time.

The absolute KEY to this meal is the BEEF and the SOAK process. You can add the cooked beef to an already prepared salad -- or you can steam some vegetables and rice and enjoy it another way.

Whatever option you choose -- use the lime-soy-sugar-oil mixture you held in reserve to sprinkle over your salad or vegetables before consuming.

Good stuff Maynard. Two thumbs up.