A Garden of Gratitude by Barbara Quinn

Perennial flowers are the backbone of my garden. Outside my window, the Black-eyed Susan’s wave in the breeze. Beside them sit clumps of golden Day Lilies that bloom for months without any care. The Sedum is starting to blossom and change color. In fall it will become a deep red. My Mums are already in full flower, their wine and orange colored blossoms bright in the August sun. The purple and white Asters will be in the next round of flowering plants. I love watching the perennials cycle through the growing season. In spring there are a few Crocuses that the deer leave behind. The deer eat all the Tulips, and most of the Daffodils too, so I’ve let them disappear from the garden. Summer and fall are when the perennials are most abundant. In dead of winter there’s Holly with its red berries.

If a perennial survives a wintering over, it’s meant to be a part of my landscape. I prefer to find plants that belong in my soil, plants that stay here, like me, and soak in the same sun, air, and water that I do year after year. We’re fellow travelers, baking in August, hunkering down in the winter. Plus, it’s a lot easier to tend perennials. Plant them once and you’re set. Don’t get me wrong. Annuals are pretty, and I love seeing them in my neighbors’ yards. How can you not be drawn to the bright colors of the Hibiscus, Impatiens, or Begonias? But it’s my old friends the perennials for me.

When I walk to my mailbox I pass purple Spiderwort that I transplanted here from my last home almost ten years ago. Every summer and fall when it blooms I remember the large patch of Spiderwort at my previous house. It’s not a very popular plant, but I like its ambling disarray of leaves and small flowers. It crops up every year and shouts look at me. And I am happy to oblige. There are Hostas too, with their long green leaves and purple flowers on long stalks. And blue Hydrangeas that droop heavily from their bushes. I’m grateful to perennials for coloring my landscape and keeping me company year after year.

Gratitude for Zucchini Madness by Barbara Quinn

I enjoy going out in the early morning and harvesting my herbs, zucchini, and zucchini flowers. The bright yellow zucchini blossoms definitely are happy, their faces turned up to the sun. This is the time of year when they go into insane production phase so it’s good to have lots of recipes for them.

While I enjoy cooking, I’m a fan of simple, healthy dishes. Here’s a dish that is tasty and doesn’t require you to spend a lot of time over a hot stove. Plus it uses bunches of zucchini. And I am grateful for that.

Zucchini Bisque

2 Tblsp. Olive Oil
1 Medium Onion
1 Cup chopped carrots
4 Cups chopped zucchini
2 Cups Lo-Sodium chicken broth
¼ tsp. sugar
¼ tsp. marjoram
Two or three sprigs of fresh thyme, stripped (or ½ tsp dried)
Two or three sprigs of fresh tarragon stripped (or 1 tsp. dried)
Sea salt
White pepper
½ cup Skim Plus milk

Chop vegetables. Heat olive oil over medium heat and add carrots, zucchini and onion. Cook until onions wilt. Stir in chicken broth, herbs, sugar, white pepper, and salt. Simmer for about 15 minutes. Puree in small batches in a blender. Pour back in pot and add the milk. Adjust seasoning to taste. (e.g., more tarragon or salt). Reheat and serve.

Zucchini Days by Barbara Quinn

I don’t plant much in my garden anymore. I have lots of herbs, and a few zucchini plants. And boy do those four zucchini plants take up room and produce like mad. I grow them mostly for the flowers. I can find good tomatoes and other veggies in my local farm market, but those zucchini flowers are elusive and very expensive if you do find them. Each morning I go out and harvest a bunch.

So what do I do with all those flowers? They are good to add to salads, and to zucchini bisque with fresh tarragon, and also to zucchini fritters which make a great accompaniment to grilled fish or meats. A major treat is fried or stuffed zucchini blossoms. Italians fry the blossoms in a simple thin water and flour batter called pastella which is similar to tempura batter. You sprinkle them with salt and enjoy. Tonight I’m going to stuff half the blossoms with mushroom, breadcrumb, pine nuts, and raisins. I’ll stuff the rest with leftover polenta mixed with a little parmesan. Then I’ll bake them in my toaster oven. What a terrific time of year.

Here’s a recipe for fried zucchini flowers:

2/3 Cup of water
1 Cup flour
Pan with one inch of Canola oil
A dozen or so zucchini blossoms.

Place water in a bowl. Sift the flour into the water and use a whisk to incorporate till mixture is a thin paste. You can experiment with consistency. Wash the blossoms and dry on paper towels. Cut open one side and remove the inside pistil. Leave them whole if possible. If too large cut into two pieces. Heat the oil on high heat. Dip the flowers into the batter and drain a bit, then put into the oil. Brown on one side, then flip to the other. Remove to paper towels and drain. Sprinkle with salt. Serve hot. If done right, they should be crunchy good!

Herbaceous Thoughts by Barbara Quinn

It’s time for planting my herb garden here in New York. This weekend I hit the garden store. What a delight it was to roam up and down looking at the beautiful flowers and drawing in the wonderful scents. In my neighborhood, the purple lilacs are already out in full bloom. The fruit and vegetable stand has dozens of branches of lilac displayed in the front of the store. And last week when I was in NYC the corner flower stands had cherry blossom boughs propped in cans to take home. What a wonderful idea. When we ate at a Moroccan restaurant the place was filled with the cherry blossom boughs. The downside is the wretched pollen that makes my eyes water and nose run, but that’s a small price to pay for the beautiful sights of the blooms. On the way to the garden center, I noticed that the ground was covered in the spent blossoms. The petals swirled through the air, nature’s confetti thrown in honor of spring.

My tarragon and sage have already come back without any help, poking out of the ground with the first warmth of the season. The sage has taken over far too much of the garden already. So has the mint, which I try to keep off in a different spot since it is the most territorial of herbs.

At the garden center, I picked up a couple of large pots of basil. You can never have too much basil in an Italian household. One of them went to my Mom who is 87 and still cooking for herself each day. I’m grateful for all her lessons, in cooking and in the garden. It’s her voice in my head that guided me in my search for my herbs. “Look at the bottom of the stem and be sure it’s not yellowed or black. Check beneath the leaves for critters. Is the plant happy looking?” After the basil, I selected Italian flat leaf parsley. “We use the flat not the curly," Mom said. Then thyme, oregano, and rosemary. Some of each went to Mom, a Mother’s Day gift she’ll enjoy, almost as much as the pizza well-done that we downed at Roma's on Saturday, accompanied by a pitcher of beer. Yep. She still loves her beer and wine.

Thanks for all the lessons, Mom, not only in the garden but in life. Who else was going to teach me how to save my Parmesan rinds to flavor soup and then serve them up for a tasty treat? Or how to roast peppers over the gas flame of my stove and then put them in a paper bag to steam before preparing?

I’m looking forward to muddling some of that mint for us for a spring Mojito!