Life is Good & Delicious
and the berries are coming in hot...
Hello,
Life is good and delicious in the garden these days. Last weekend we had the littles my daughter and son-in-law’s twins (the littles) for an overnight. I made sure to leave ripe raspberries and alpine strawberries for their picking delight, and they were a great help when it came to shucking a large bowl of plump fava beans. If you haven’t grown them, fava beans are the very epitome of food of love -- not only do they have a growing season of 100+ days, but when the beans do finally ripen, they must be shucked, blanched and peeled. Only then you can start making dinner.
While today both of my children have a hand in the garden, when they were younger that wasn’t the case — much to my dismay — but the wait was worth it. In addition to picking berries at home, the boys and I made several trips to the new community garden in our neighborhood to pick more raspberries — they are a harvesting machine!
While the twins were occupied with raspberries, I retrieved a hoe from the garden shed and wandered over to weed around the garden’s 48 (!!) tomato plants. The boys quickly cottoned to the idea — I confess, I was nervous about handing them tools so that they could “help” me, but they quickly learned the difference between a young basil start and weeds. What’s more, they loved it! “Let’s go weed!” was a constant refrain for the rest of the weekend.
While shucking and shelling favas, the curly headed one piped up with this gem: “Nana, do you know about the water cycle? Water starts in the ocean and goes up – that’s called ‘e-vap-or-a-tion’ – then the clouds get heavy and rain falls back into the ocean.”
Not too shabby for a child who only recently graduated from kindergarten. The sweet, dimpled one told me about how gases from cars are “heating up earth.” And a flyer posted on a street light poll in front of the ice cream store prompted a discussion about how Native Americans were already here before European settlers arrived. I swear on a fragrant bouquet of sweet peas, in every instance they initiated the conversation.
These little developing humans and future gardeners are growing my heart in the very best way. These boys, as well as your own beloved littles, are the future. They deserve the very best of our efforts to nurture community and protect a healthy climate, as well as a government that supports our efforts.
Even after constant snacking, at the end of the weekend I sent them home with a quart of ripe raspberries. Thank you for listening to this Nana’s story. I’m so glad you’re here.
xo Lorene
From the archives
Cultivating Community
Hello, Thirty-some years ago I returned to growing vegetables. I can date this to two things: I had just read French Dirt, the story of a garden in the South of France, and I was desperately trying to get my kids involved in the hope that they would eat more vegetables. So, already you can see that my ambitions were lofty and more than a little bit naïve…
recent reading: Where We Come Home by Raine Fraser. The recently- published first novel by a dear friend whom I’ve known and loved forever. Set in a picturesque Irish landscape with complicated but lovable characters — this is armchair travel at its best.
recent writing: Huckleberry Gardens Interviewing the owners and visiting their lovely nursery took me back to 1995 when a couple of friends, both remarkable plantswomen, and I opened Fremont Gardens. It’s a comfort to know that the urge to share plants and gardens is still strong.
in the handmade kitchen: Garden to Table Fava Bean Pasta Like most things in life, this recipe has a good backstory.
Years ago, my husband and I made reservations to dine at a semi-posh restaurant in downtown San Francisco. When we showed up the maître de appeared to be quite flustered. We thought he motioned to us to follow him, presumably to our table, but in fact we all ended up in the busy kitchen. There was much wringing of hands, but the gist of the matter was “the gentleman is wearing shorts.” Very nice linen shorts but he wasn’t wrong, indeed my husband’s knees were showing. We were duly escorted out of the kitchen, back through the dining room and up the staircase passed all those lucky diners. We were told that while we wouldn’t be eating in the dining room, we could have a seat in the bar and order from the full menu.
You know that tittering but all-consuming laugh that happens to some people when they find themselves in an embarrassing situation? That was me. I was overcome with the awkward giggles throughout our entire meal as we sat on a balcony overlooking the dining room below. An audible fact that I’m sure didn’t go unnoticed by the more properly dressed patrons without exposed male knees. I ordered fava bean pasta and loved it. To this day, sweet alliums, tender beans, salty bacon and good pasta transport me back (in a good way) to a decidedly inelegant meal with my best friend. Here’s how I make this dish at home, it’s up to you to provide the giggles.
Preparing fresh fava beans is a multi-step labor of kitchen love
Shuck pods to remove ripe beans
Blanch beans in boiling salted water, I usually add a sprig of mint for a touch of herbal sweetness.
Drain beans in a colander and run them under cool water to stop the cooking.
Now carefully pinch each fava to remove the tough outer seed coat revealing the bright green, now tender beans.
As previously mentioned, now you’re ready to make dinner.
In a shallow skillet, brown lardons of bacon until they have crisped and rendered their porky fat. Remove the pieces to drain on a paper towel If you’re going bacon-free, substitute a couple of splashes of olive oil and proceed. Slowly sauté your allium of choice in the bacon fat or olive oil until they are softened and translucent, avoid browning to maintain sweetness.
Deglaze the pan with white wine and add the previously prepared fava beans and bacon (if using) to warm in the allium mixture. Presumedly while all this is happening you’ve brought a pot of salted water to boil and cooked the pasta to a toothsome texture (al dente). Toss drained pasta with the mixture in the skillet, adding a ladle or two of the starchy pasta cooking water to loosen the mixture to a very saucy consistency — feel free to flash a knee. Serve garnished with grated parmesan or pecorino cheese and, this is mandatory, recount a story that brings a smile to your face.
To be perfectly honest, the above recipe ought to begin on a miserable, dark day in February with directions to pre-sprout fava bean seeds in advance of placing the fragile sprouts out into the frigid garden. You’ll find complete fava bean growing advice in this slightly edited excerpt from my upcoming book(s) Grow Great Vegetables Washington/Oregon/British Columbia, coming in February, 2026 from Timber Press, available for pre-order now.
Color my World
I’m convinced that we can tell time by the color of pansies. This little darling is pink dawn.
Nightfall in pansy time.
Many of this week’s color studies were created at Christianson’s Nursery last week while I signed my book and chatted with people as they explored the Primrose gift store.
Geranium ‘Rosanne’ is a generous bloomer, putting on a flood of purple blue blooms from June until frost.
The sweet scent of English lavender helps calm anxiety — a most valuable prescription these days.
What if every borage blossom was a piece of heavenly blue sky that fell to the garden.
Love! I too have twin grandies, girls, one curly with blondish hair and one with thick dark hair. They are now 11 but I remember when they were little and treasure all of our days with them. I love your colorful posts!
Oh my gosh! I love their curious minds and helpful hands (and cute little faces!)