Dramaturgs Love Goldfish

Inspiration from the Flower Show

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Tue, 12 Mar 2013 16:30:00 +0000

Odd as it may sound, I've never been to the Philadelphia Flower Show before this year. I used to think it was something that was enjoyed by the elderly, something along the lines of bridge or wearing pastel-colored dress suits.

But, as it turns out, the Flower Show is for everyone. It's especially for people who like gardening. There was a bit of bourgeois feel to it, especially over in the vendor marketplace, where you could buy bonsai, orchids, bonsais, orchids and decorative flags. There were some other things for sale, but nothing that stood out to me as a gardener. Along with the bourgeois, there was also a bit of let's make pretty things/while respecting the earth/look at these native plants feel to things.

The theme this year was England and the main display featured a mock up of Big Ben. The theme was also seen in a cute Sherlock Holmes inspired exhibit, which had you solve the case of the invasive species or something. There were a lot of flowers on display that are pretty common here, especially right now, like tulips, daffodils and other bulbs.

The exhibit that got my attention was called "Before the Invasion" and was created by the EPA. It featured plants that are native to Pennsylvania and that were here before William Penn and the British "invaded" the area. Plants in the exhibit included a few varieties of rhododendron/azaleas, creeping phlox, and sedge.

Last year, I inherited a garden from a couple who retired and moved across the country. It's at 4th and Walnut street and is part of the National Parks service. Although I'm just a volunteer, I have pretty much free reign over what goes in the garden. There are some gaps in it right now, so my thinking is to fill them in with native species. So, thanks, Flower Show, for the inspiration.

Gardentime 2013: Getting Started

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Sun, 10 Mar 2013 22:00:00 +0000

Depending on who you ask, Philly has just a few weeks to go before the last frost date. There's about a 50 percent chance of no more frost after April 6 and by April 17, we'll be pretty much in the clear. That means, it's more than time to start planting cold weather veggies, and if you want to start plants like peppers and tomatoes from seed, you're a little late, but you maybe could still do it. I'm an optimistic gardener, so if you want to give it a try, go for it.

My plan originally was to get the peas in the ground a week or two ago, but I ended up putting things off until this weekend, which was probably for the best because there was some snow on Friday. I got the peas, kale and carrots in the containers today. These three plants are all buddies, so I was able to plant them together in the same containers, to add some visual interest to things once they start growing.

Ah, the lovely site of chicken wire, an absolute must when you have a feral cat colony that likes to hang out in your backyard. The bigger pot on the right has carrots and kale planted in it while the blue pot on the left has kale and peas. The plan is to use the peas in the blue for pea shoots, so they won't get to be full size and I hope, won't get in the way of the kale. There's another big pot full of just pea seeds. I've also planted a window box with kale, which I plan on using for baby kale.

As I did last year, I planted Tom Thumb peas. Tom Thumb is a dwarf variety and ideal for containers. The plants max out around 8 or 10 inches and don't need staking. Of the different peas I've grown, they're my favorite.

This is my first time growing kale. I went with Lacinato kale, or dinosaur kale, which I've only recently tried. For some reason, I had this attachment to curly kale, even though it's much easier to work with Lacinato kale when cooking and it also looks a lot cooler. The idea is to grow a bunch of baby kale plants and one or two full-sized ones. Baby kale can do well in shallow pots and in cramped quarters, but big kale needs a deeper pot and about 15 to 24 inches of space.

I'm growing Atlas carrot this year, which a short carrot similar to the variety I grew last year. I was pretty happy with the carrots last year, so I can only hope that this year's crop does as well. This year's variety comes from Johnny's Selected Seeds, while the peas and kale are from Seed Saver's Exchange.

In hey, you survived the winter news, the chives have started to come back already. I wasn't sure what to expect from them, as I cut them down to the soil at the end of the season last year, then read that I was supposed to leave the stems over the winter. Oops, but that doesn't matter in the end, because here they are.

I got a mountain mint plant from Greensgrow Farms two seasons ago. The plant was very, very productive over the past two years, even confined to a pot and left outside for two winters. Today, I decided it was time to give the plant a new lease on life, as it was starting to choke itself out in the pot. I divided it, and the tiny plant above is one of the divisions. It looks fine for now, but only time will tell if I accidentally killed it.

E-Reading Scripts

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Sat, 08 Dec 2012 22:32:00 +0000

One of the joys of being a dramaturg is the opportunity to read a lot of plays. Some of the plays are ones that you've seen produced or would like to, some are submissions to theaters or festivals and others are plays that a playwright has asked for your feedback on.

One of the downsides of all those plays is finding a way to read them. In the past, playwrights would send a paper copy of the play to a theater, but now that many submissions are via email, the onus is on the person reading the play to figure out a way to read it.

I've always been the type to print out the script and read it that way. There's a weird disconnect when the play stays on a computer screen. It's hard to get into the play, since you're straining your eyes to look at it. But, when you have to print out 40+ scripts over the course of a few months, the bill can get pretty pricey, not to mention all the paper and ink you're using, all the trees that need to be cut down, etc.

Last year, my solution to the massive amounts of paper issue was to get a Kindle. I didn't get the Fire version, just the regular old Kindle, with a keyboard.

There are definitely pluses to using a Kindle to read plays. It's really pretty easy to email yourself the scripts. If you're getting plays emailed to yourself already, all you need to do is forward them on to your Kindle.com email. You set who can send you emails at your Kindle, so you don't have to worry about getting a spam email that will destroy your e-reader. The machine handles both .doc and .pdf files, though mine has crashed twice when reading a .pdf.

Since I have the keyboard version, I can make notes on the play as I read, just as I would with a paper script. I can also highlight text or dialogue that stands out to me as I read.

Despite the ease of use, reduction in ink and paper costs, and the note taking, I'm not sure I'm sold on the e-reader, especially when it comes to reading plays. After working my way through over 40 scripts this fall, I found it more difficult to write responses and reports after reading on the Kindle. One of the joys of reading an unpublished play is the ability to flip back and forth so easily through the stack of paper. It's easy to find what you're looking for or briefly go back to scene you want to examine again. Plus, there's something about holding the play as you read it that makes it sink in better, I think.

It's really hard to navigate the play on a Kindle, unless you take copious notes and notate every single instance you think you might want to look at again. You can't search the text as you can on a word processor. You can't search by page number on .docs.

I'm going to keep using my Kindle for reading plays, since it's much more convenient and cheaper, but I think I'll always prefer the physical copy of a script over it's e-version.

Gardentime 2012: Pickled Peppers

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Sat, 06 Oct 2012 22:17:00 +0000

October has arrived. Although it's still been on the warm side, things have begun to get a little chilly for my jalapeño and Bulgarian Carrot Hot Pepper plants. Today, I picked the last of the peppers from the plants, as they are already beginning to show signs that they don't enjoy the colder nights.

The final pepper harvest wasn't terribly impressive - a total of 12 peppers. I think this overall this year I got about 30 peppers and that's a large outside estimate. 30 isn't a large amount compared to past years, when I was swimming in peppers by the end of the season.

Last year, I simply tossed the remaining peppers into plastic freezer bags whole and froze them. When I needed a pepper throughout the winter and spring, I'd just pull one or two out of the freezer and use them. Frozen peppers aren't good for eating raw, but they're perfect for tossing into a pot of chili or into a stock.

I wanted to get a bit more creative with preservation this year, so I decided to quick pickle half of the harvest. I left the Bulgarian Carrots alone, choosing to pickle the jalapeños only.

I never got on the canning bandwagon, for several reasons. Mostly, I don't want to buy a big canning pot or any of the equipment. So I went the quick refrigerator pickle route. I brought 3/4 cup of vinegar to a simmer on the stove, with 2 teaspoons of salt and 1 1/2 tablespoons sugar. I went with sliced peppers, so that I can use them on nachos and whatnot. The jalapeños went into a jar and the simmering vinegar went over top. The peppers and vinegar are cooling now, then they will go in the refrigerator and "pickle" for a few days (or a week. Or two weeks.)

There seemed to be a lot variance on the web when it came to how long the peppers will last in the fridge. A month seems to be the safe bet, but there are people who say they will keep for longer. I think the longer the peppers sit in the salty vinegar, the mushier they will get, so it might be more of an issue of quality than safety. But seriously, when it comes to food and safety, don't take it from me. Listen to the USDA and all those people who actually know the food science behind it all.

Gardentime 2012: Seed Saving

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Wed, 26 Sep 2012 16:00:00 +0000

I got a lime basil plant for free when I ordered my peppers and other plants from Lazy Ox Farm. At the start of summer, I used the lime basil to make sun tea quite frequently. But as the season went on, the plant bolted pretty early and I kinda stopped tending to it, aside from watering it regularly.

The other day, I noticed many tiny little seedlings sprouting up around the established plant in the container. These weren't weeds, they were baby basils. The plant had not only gone to seed, it had self-seeded.

That's when I got the obvious light bulb. I could save the seeds (the ones that hadn't fallen to the ground) for next season. And, once the sweet basil was ready, I could do the same with that.

Saving basil seeds is very easy. That plant wants to put out a flower. Most gardeners pick off the flowers, which gets tiring, especially if there is a lot of basil. Instead of picking the flowers off, let them be. They're pretty and they attract bees. Keep in mind that there's a give and take. Once you let the basil flower, the leaves lose flavor. If there's plenty of time left in the season, continue the battle against the flowers. But once fall rolls around, it's time for saving seed.

After a length of time, the small petals will fall off and the flower spike will turn brown and dry out. It won't be pretty any more, but it will finally be useful to you. Trim the spikes, then spread them on a paper towel or paper plate. Let them sit for a few days or a week. To remove the mature seeds, shake the spikes or even rub them. A messier option is to put the spikes in a paper bag and give it a good shake. The seeds will collect in the bottom of the bag, but you'll also have to deal with a lot of chaff.

Basil seeds that have reached maturity are tiny and black. Store them in an envelope for the winter, then plant next spring.

One quick note about cross-pollination. Basil does cross-pollinate, and I don't have the scientific data to give percentages or whatever. But if you grew multiple varieties, keep in mind that there's a risk for cross-pollination and unusual basil plants the next year.

Gardentime 2012: Hello, Fall

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Sun, 23 Sep 2012 22:51:00 +0000

I spent nearly the entire day in the garden, getting it ready for fall. The entire day wasn't meant to be devoted to gardening, but once I dived in and got going, time flew by and the work piled up. The day's work involved harvesting herbs to be dried, frozen or turned into pesto. It also involved cutting the flowers/seed pods off of the lime basil in an attempt to save seeds. In hopes of getting some more veggies before the frost hits, I planted a few cold-weather crops, including peas.

The parsley plant has done pretty well this summer. I don't know why I was hesitant to grow it for so long. As far as herbs go, it was almost no work at all. I'd trim it a few times to use the leaves and stems in cooking, but that was the extent of my efforts aside from watering. It didn't have any pests or disease troubles.

Parsley has long had a connection to death, which stems from both myth and botany. I found this fun article that discussed how parsley was considered the herb of death by the ancient Greeks. Apparently, they believed that parsley first grew in the blood of Archemorus, which means "forerunner of death." From a botanical standpoint, the seed of parsley contains furamocoumarins, which prevent weeds from growing. Unfortunately, those compounds also sometimes keep the plants from germinating too. Furamocoumarins might also keep pests away from parsley.

My goal is to over-winter the parsley plant by tucking its pot in a corner of the backyard, near the house, where it is warmest. It's a biennial plant, so it should return next year for a spell. My hope is that I can trick it into producing leaves for as long as possible by trimming away the flower stem. We'll see. For now, I've cut down the leaves and have tossed them whole, but washed and dried, in the freezer. Freezing parsley means I can use it in stocks and other cooked recipes throughout the winter. The frozen parsley probably won't be suitable for use raw or as a garnish.

At the start of the growing season, I got obsessed with the idea of growing citrus scented and flavored herbs. I ended up with lemon thyme, lime basil and lemon verbena in the garden. My original thought was to grow lemon balm, but I wasn't impressed with the lemon balm plants on offer. Then, I found lemon verbena online.

The plant is native to Chile and Argentina and is a tender perennial, meaning it probably won't survive a winter outside in zone 7b. My plan is to bring it inside for the cold months. The plant has narrow, pointy leaves that are slightly sticky and smell sweetly of lemon. When brewed in sun tea, it has a light lemon flavor that's a very herbal or green tasting.

I harvested several stems of the plant today, and have hung them up to dry in a dark spare room. They've been hanging for only a few hours so far and the leaves are already drying out. I figure they will hang there for a few more days, then I will store them in a jar and use them to make tea or to flavor scones and pastries. I've also got a few sprigs of sage drying there on the left, just for the fun of it.

The summer was a rough one and I'm reluctantly glad that fall has arrived. Let's hope the garden keeps on going until the frost hits in late November/early December.

Gardentime 2012: Accepting Failure

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Sat, 04 Aug 2012 16:45:00 +0000

That above is one of the saddest looking tomato plants ever. It also happens to be the plant growing (or not) in my garden. It hasn't set any fruit and the leaves are starting to curl up and wither. It also may have been the victim of an over zealous pruner early on.

The are plenty of reasons why the tomato isn't making tomatoes. For one thing, it's an heirloom (Abraham Lincoln). While heirlooms usually make tastier fruits, they are also a lot more finicky. For another thing, the weather has been a bitch this summer. We all think that tomatoes love the heat, but even they have their limits. And days and days of temperatures over 95 degrees make them throw a mini temper tantrum and refuse to make fruit.

When I first started gardening, worry about crop failure kept me up at night. I would lie in bed, concerned that my pepper plant had only produced a single pepper or worrying that it would just die overnight. Over the past few years, I've mellowed out a bit. Some crops didn't do as well as I had hoped (for example, the Brussels sprouts that didn't grow at all, then got eaten by a cabbage worm), others were so amazingly productive I still have vestiges of them dried or in the freezer.

The stakes are rather low in my backyard garden. I don't need those tomatoes to live. If the plant did decide to produce fruit, I'd probably save a few dollars, but the impact on my life as a whole would be rather low. If the plant continues on as it is, I'm out $3 and the chance to grow something more productive.

It's a failure but it doesn't compare to the failure of say, entire swathes of corn in the midwest or other areas. The low stakes of it all makes it a lot easier to accept. It also makes me wonder about failure in life in general. Is there ever something that is so critical to survival that I couldn't bounce back from if it all didn't work out in the end?

Page Writing vs Stage Writing

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Sat, 21 Jul 2012 16:34:00 +0000

Two recent experiences have me thinking about the quality of writing and different types of writing. My thoughts have focused on both the experience of the writer and the experience of the audience member when engaging with the work. The first experience was working on a short-story-for-hire. In the end, I don't own the rights to the work so at best I can only provide a rough sketch. But it was in part a romance, so there were some G or PG rated love scenes.

The second experience was watching the film version of my favorite book, Jude the Obscure.I've put off watching Jude because I have this rule against watching movies based on books, particularly movies based on books I like (Michael Chabon's Wonder Boys being the sole exception).

I usually gloss over any bit of love scene when writing stories. I've always found it awkward, and judging by the awkward stuff I've read in even the best of novels, most other writers do too, to some extent. One of the big challenges of writing prose is conveying that romantic feeling without making the reader want to vomit. I'm referring to graphic sex scenes as well as far less graphic kissy scenes. In the case of my project, it was the non-explicit kissy scenes that tripped me up since graphic stuff was verboten (and as a writer, I wouldn't go near there anyway).

But the experience is very different when I'm writing for performance. I don't have to really imbue the characters with as great an amount of feeling when describing a kiss or sex. There's a bit of laziness on my part as a writer, or more gently, I get a bit of a break. As in, I'm giving a director and actors a sketch of what I want, and they add the flesh and bones and feeling. It's a much less awkward experience for me, since in part I realize I'm not the only creator involved in the process.

There's the difference between writing a story and writing a script and there's also the difference between reading a novel and watching a film of it. When I watched Jude, I felt as if I was going on a mad dash of a marathon. By the time Jude stood in the graveyard, yelling as Sue left him, I felt as if I was beaten to a pulp. The book is bleak and disturbing, but after reading it multiple times, I didn't feel exhausted.

A book invites you into to its world and lets you travel on a long, slow moving journey with it. When that same book gets turned into film, everything has to speed up. The bloody gut wrenching pig scene in Jude the Obscure gets turned into a not very noticeable 3 minute scene in Jude. Suddenly, Jude's married. Suddenly, Arabella is gone. It all happens so quickly, it's hard to digest.

All of this is not to diminish the quality of the film. Though it's a mad dash through a 400 page novel that spans years, it's still a nice enough film. The experience is just so different as to be jarring.

Gardentime 2012: Growing Carrots

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Wed, 04 Jul 2012 18:48:00 +0000

The first crop of carrots is in for the summer. They are a short, squat variety, as you can see from the picture. The fact that the carrots were able to grow well very much surprised me. I always thought of carrots as being difficult to grow and requiring a lot of space. A few of the carrots were not more than one inch or an inch and a half away from each other, but they still managed to thrive. I has half expecting to get some sort of Frankencarrot, or two carrots that merged together.

Root vegetables have proven tricky for me in the past. I've struggled with even easy to grow roots, like radishes. The beets last year were a disappointing flop. Yet, these carrots worked. Who knows why.

Growing roots is a lot different than growing herbs or fruits. There's no way to know how the roots are progressing. In my experience, leafy green tops is no indication of the health of the root itself. I wasn't sure if the carrots would be ready to be pulled yet. I kept waiting for their shoulders to push out of the dirt, but that never happened.

Instead, I just started pulling the other day. The first carrot was alarming. It was considerably wider on top than I was expecting. My initial reaction was to scream "holy shit" and run away. I had no idea of the total size of the carrot that was about to come out of the ground. In the end, it was thick on top but not very long, at most three and a half inches.

I grew the carrots in a wide, 15 inch deep pot. In the end, I had a harvest of 10 carrots. One was a micro carrot, not longer than an inch. The others grew to full size. This first crop was planted on April 1. The seeds took about three weeks to germinate. I pulled the last eight on Monday, July 2, so in all they took about 90 days from seed to harvest.

The plan is to plant another batch at the start of August, giving the hot pepper that shared the pot with them time to grow and thrive. If the new crop works out, it should be ready to harvest by the beginning of November.

Care for the plants was not difficult. I used a basic organic potting mix and watered daily or as the soil became dry. Over watering was an issue I've had with other roots, so I was a little light on the water, especially at first. For the next crop, I think I will mix some compost into the potting mix to give the plants an extra boost of food.

Gardentime 2012: Hardening Off

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Tue, 22 May 2012 16:00:00 +0000

The last of my plants have arrived. For the second year in a row, I've ordered several pepper, tomato and herb plants from Lazy Ox Farm, a farm out in Missouri. Now, why would I order plants all the way from MO when I can just pop over to a local farm or the Lowes? It's about 50 percent impatience and 50 percent selection. I like to plan out my garden in February or March, well before it's time to put out tomato or pepper plants. Since I don't have the wherewithal to grow those plants from seed, my best option is to order them online. This year, I ordered in March and waited until May for the plants to ship and arrive. Yes, I could have waited until May to go to the local farm and get some plants, but there is no guarantee the local farm will have the varieties I want to grow.

So how does mail order for plants work? Surprising well. The folks at Lazy Ox package the plants well, so the dirt doesn't spill out. The leaves, stems and roots don't suffer much or any damage. The plants only spend about a day in the box, between leaving the farm and getting to my doorstep. It's all pretty impressive. In all, the plants from the farm are miles and away healthier than the plants you see at the hardware store.

This all brings us to hardening off. It sounds violent and scary, but it's very necessary for the plant's survival. And it's not violent at all. The plants have been in a box for a few days. If I were to plant them in their soil and leave them outdoors 24 hours a day, they would suffer a pretty great shock. The shock would stunt their growth and make them pretty unhappy. Plus, some plants, such as basil and peppers only like warm weather. At this point in time, there is still a slight risk for nighttime temperatures dipping into the 50-55 degree range.

So instead, they are hardened off. That means they get gradually exposed to the world outside and all that means - sunlight, wind, changes in temperatures, etc. You could get all scientific about it if you wanted, for example, bring them out in a shady area for an hour one day, then in a more sunny area for a few hours the next, and so on. But I'm not. I just extend the time they spend outdoors until I think it's time to plant. At this point, I feel they have a few more days to go before they are ready to move outside for good.

Gardentime 2012: Spring Peas

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Sat, 19 May 2012 17:23:00 +0000

Every year that I've had a garden, I've grown peas. Peas are a bit of a fun plant to grow, though they never have the yield that other plants do, unless you grow a lot of them. They have a quick growing season. Once the summer heat turns on, they wither up and kick it. Yet, despite the meager yields, I continue to make room in a container for them each season.

This year, I was able to get my hands on a packet of Tom Thumb peas. Tom Thumb is a dwarf variety. It maxes out at about 8 inches tall. You do not need to trellis it, since it's so short. It's also a great plant for containers. I grew a bunch (maybe 8 or 10?) in a wide container this season. Each plant has produced three to five pods so far. I think that may be it for this round, as we're nearing June and things are getting hot. Since the plants are pretty hardy, my plan is to do another round at the beginning of fall.

Peas are pretty simple to grow. I soak the seeds in water for several hours, or overnight, before planting. You can dip the seeds in a rhizome inoculant, which apparently improves their yields. I've never done that, mostly because I have never had the inoculant. After about a week or so, the pea shoots pop up. Since the plants are nitrogen fixers, you don't really need to worry about adding fertilizer (I use container mix, so fertilizing isn't a concern anyway).

It's possible to over water the peas, especially if it is a watery spring. Last year, for example, we got a lot of rain and the peas had some mildew problems. If that is a concern, there are powdery mildew resistant varieties available. Generally, I water the peas when the soil looks dry, but hasn't completely dried out yet.

Tom Thumb peas are the shelling variety, so the peas inside the pod grow plump. That's when it's time to harvest. Ideally, the peas in the pod should be evenly sized when the pods are ready to go. The other day, I got about a cup of pods as the harvest. I really think that will be it for now. I left a few pods on the plants, as they weren't quite ready yet.

To be honest, I usually hate the taste of peas. I have for my entire life. As a child, I developed clever ways to make it look like I had eaten the peas on my plate, when really I didn't. But peas fresh from the garden are fantastic. They taste grassy and like spring. I added my small pea harvest to this recipe for leek risotto, from Smitten Kitchen. I also left out the bacon and egg, since I don't eat those things. It was quite delicious.

CSA Share: Nettle Pesto

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 00:41:00 +0000

The winter CSA share I signed up for through Greensgrow Farms had its last pick-up this past Saturday. While the slog through the winter was a bit tough, I must admit, the last pick-up showed signs of spring: asparagus! dandelion greens! stinging nettles!?

Stinging nettles, if you have never encountered them, sting you when your skin comes in contact with them. You don't want to run into them in the wild or pick them up at the farm stand with your bare hands. The nettles have little hairs all over the stems. Some of the hairs contain chemicals, such as formic acid, which cause excruciating pain when you touch them.

But, I don't have first hand experience with this. The nettles I got in the CSA came in a plastic bag with the instructions to dump the nettles directly from the bag into a pot of boiling water, which I did. The nettles only need about a minute in the boiling water to denature the stinginess. After that, you can touch them without fear.

I then poked around the interwebs, looking for something to do with the nettles. I'm a bit of a leafy greenaphobe, though I know I shouldn't be. Spinach, quite honestly, terrifies me. Collards do a bit as well. So I have to admit that the idea of eating nettles was a little frightening. It also did not sit well with my partner, who flat out refused to eat them (more on that later). I wanted a recipe that would let me enjoy the green nettles without gagging on them.

Then, I found this recipe for pesto over on a blog called Hogwash. I like pesto. It makes frightening green things less frightening. So I tried it, with farafelle pasta.

And it was pretty good. Considerably more mild in flavor than basil pesto or a kale pesto I've made before. The best part of it: I told my partner we were having pesto for dinner. And he ate it without a comment. I don't think he knows the green part of it was nettles. So, let that be a lesson, people. The best way to hide veggies is in pesto.

Gardentime 2012: Let's Begin

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Sun, 08 Apr 2012 15:45:00 +0000

I can't believe that this is the third year I've been writing about my little urban garden. This scale, I've scaled back from the insanity that was 2011 but am still planning on more than I did in 2010. Having a backyard that is about 100 square feet really puts a limit on things, a limit I've ignored in the past, often to deleterious results.

The plan for this year includes:
Peas
Carrots
Arugula
Tomato
2 hot pepper plants
and
a myriad of herbs

The peas, carrots and arugula are already in in the ground. This year, I went for Tom Thumb peas, which only grow to about 8 inches in height. They are ideal for containers. I hope they do not crowd each other out or turn in a giant tangled mess, as has been my experience in the past.

I planted them at the beginning of March. The plan is to pull them out once they start withering in the heat and replace them with a hot pepper plant and some basil.

The super mild winter we had meant that I didn't too very much to prepare my herbs for the cold. I tucked a few perennials in the corner along the yard's wall and against the wall of the house. All but the chocolate mint made it through. I'm particularly impressed by the sage, as that was the plant I had the least expectations for. But it's come back quite impressively, and it's only early April.

Finally, I've gotten some new herbs going. I added a lemon thyme because it smelled nice and word on the street says that it deters the cats. To replace the chocolate mint that died, I got a new one. Fingers crossed that it won't die as well. I've also planted some calendula seeds in a larger pot.

What's with the chicken wire over the blue pot? It's an attempt to keep the alley cats from digging up the soil and using the pot as a litter box. Hope that I can remove it once the plant grows large enough.

Adventures in (Cultured, Greek-Style) Coconut Milk

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 19:06:00 +0000

My search for a delicious, vegan "yogurt" continues. Back in April of last year, I tried out cultured almond milk to dismal results. The other day, I saw containers of cultured coconut milk, "Greek-style" at my local grocery store (not Whole Foods but rather the slightly less classy Pathmark). The cultured coconut milk was from So Delicious, whose vegan soy ice cream I've enjoyed in the past.

Going from past experience, I chose a single container of the chocolate flavor. To my tastes, most cultured soy yogurts are nasty, save for the chocolate variety. I hoped the same would hold true for the Greek-style coconut milk.

And I was wrong. Ever so wrong. Of course scanning the rather long ingredient list before buying should have been a red flag. A giant red flag waving in my face that I decided it was okay to ignore. Because the packaging was pretty and the ice cream from the same brand tasted good.

I can't really even describe the taste of the cultured coconut milk. It was pretty blah. It tasted neither of chocolate nor of coconut. It was just some slightly sweet substance. After a few bites, I passed it off to my boyfriend, who was also really excited to try it. His response wasn't much better, but at least he managed to consume the entire package.

To discuss the "Greek-style" aspects of the "yogurt." Greek yogurt, as you may know, is made by draining the whey. In the end, you're left with thick, creamy yogurt that has a lot of protein. In some cases, American yogurts will try to be "Greek style" by adding shit to the yogurt, stabilizers and gums and such. It's not authentic and it's not the same.

I guess you can't drain any whey from coconut milk, so to make it "Greek style" you need to add stuff. The added stuff make the yogurt fluffy and thick, but in a way that is more off-putting than appealing.

I won't be trying cultured coconut milk again.

CSA Share: Sunchoke Soup

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 21:30:00 +0000

This winter, I've finally signed up for a CSA, or community supported agriculture from Greensgrow Farm in Kensington. Yes, there's a farm in Kensington. It's not all bad there.

It may not sound like it makes much sense to sign up for a CSA in the dead of winter, given that I live in the Northeast and local picks in the cold of winter mean lots of roots and cabbage. But I did it. It's been great so far. This week, I got a bunch of Jerusalem artichokes, or sunchokes in the share.

Sunchokes are related to the sunflower but taste like artichokes. They look like ginger, which confuses people. I handed my boyfriend a piece of ginger and a sunchoke and he couldn't tell which was which. Apparently, they can do a number on people's tummies since they contain inulin. The inulin is part of the reason why they aren't too popular.

But they really should be. Because, as I said, they taste like artichokes, but don't require all the prep of artichokes. They're little tubers, so you can just chop them up and do what you want with them. I didn't even bother to peel them.

I went the soup direction with my batch of sunchokes. If you don't know what to do with it, make soup, I guess. I could have roasted them, but given that it's winter, I have a feeling I will be sick of roasted veggies soon enough.

The soup was mad easy, as soup really should be. You throw stuff in a pot and heat and that's it. I based my soup off of this recipe from the Guardian. I say based because it's in British and metric and I didn't have the wherewithal to convert things. So I just threw stuff in. I think I used one leek, half a pound of sunchokes, and two potatoes. I didn't feel like cutting an onion, so I left that out. Since I didn't have cheddar, chestnuts or parsley, I didn't make the pesto either. My batch of soup made enough to feed me dinner last night and lunch today. All told, good times.

Alcohol For the Holidays

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Sun, 18 Dec 2011 21:00:00 +0000

DIY-ing it for the holidays continues to be trendy. Usually, I like to make a few gifts to give to family members at Christmas. Since I've started giving homemade gifts, the bar has gotten higher and higher. Cookies? That's so 2008. Bagels? 2010. This year, my homemade gifts are made out of booze.

Judging from the buzz on the Internet, making your own liqueurs is popular this year. It's also pretty easy, depending on the liqueur you choose to make. I'm trying my hand at coffee liqueur, cranberry liqueur, and the ever-popular limoncello.

I got the recipe for coffee liqueur from Epicurious. It was almost impossibly easy. I did turn my back on the coffee syrup for a second though, resulting in a sticky boiling-over mess. I sampled a bit of the liqueur in a white Russian tonight and it was better than a certain name-brand booze, if I'm allowed to say that.

The cranberry liqueur recipe came from Cooking Light. Again, it was dead simple. Chop up 12 ounces of fresh cranberries, make some simple syrup, add vodka and let sit for a month. I just started the recipe a few days ago, so it won't be ready in time for Christmas.

Limoncello. Limoncello. Everyone gets all excited about this liqueur. It was actually the most annoying to make, as it involved removing the zesty-peel part of the lemons. The zesty-peel part of 10 lemons, actually. Using a slightly dull vegetable peeler and paring knife. I got lemon juice in my eyes twice. Currently, those peels are soaking 750 mL of vodka. After about a week, I'll add some simple syrup and let sit, then strain. I've never actually had limoncello, so I'm hoping it's good.

New Work of Stitchery

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 21:12:00 +0000

That's my latest stitched piece. It's inspired by a pencil drawing I saw at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Although I had the wherewithal to take a picture of the drawing, I didn't record its title or the artist. Guess I'll just have to go back there and take a look again.

I have big plans for this piece. I intend to do a series of the same design, in different colors and stitches. Some will be stretched over canvas, others left in their hoops. We'll see. In addition to this design, I plan on doing several other paintings or artworks as stitched pieces.

Gardentime 2011: Sunflowers

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Mon, 19 Sep 2011 16:30:00 +0000

That thing looks pretty ugly, doesn't it? It's a little hard to believe that it went from looking like this:

To that in only a very short amount of time. I'm waiting for its seeds to ripen and develop before I cut it down.

Sunflowers seem to be all the rage this summer. Every urban garden has at least one growing. I've seen them popping up in random spots such as empty lots in West Philly and in front of gas stations or the CVS. While I'm glad to have grown this one, I doubt I'll do it again. It's a huge use of resources for little pay-off. I mean, sunflower seeds are great and all but it's much cheaper to get them from the bulk foods section at the Whole Foods or wherever than to grow a single giant flower and wait for the seeds to be ready.

The little sunflowers, on the other hand, are very much worth the effort. Look at how sunny they are:

Unfortunately, they had an even shorter shelf-life and gave up the ghost back in the middle of July, aided, as in all things, by those pesky alley cats.

Gardentime 2011: The Tomatoes Have Landed

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 16:30:00 +0000

Last year was the first time I tried growing tomatoes. I wasn't impressed. The plant produced maybe 5 fruits, most of them cracked and mottled. This year, I told myself I would stick with a bushy determinate type of tomato. Something small and manageable.

So Lord knows how I ended up with this guy:

That picture was actually taken a month or so ago, which explains why the basil is still small. The plant has only grown since then.

When it comes to eating tomatoes, I prefer the smaller cherry tomatoes. Not really thinking things through, I ordered a black cherry tomato plant from a farm at the beginning of the season.

Small fruit means small plant, right? No, not at all. I'm have really no reason to complain, as this plant has been many times more productive than the Big Boy I grew last year. Case in point:

That's just one day's worth of picking. Last year, the plant capped out around the beginning of August. Here we're into September and the black cherry plant is still being productive.

Of course, this summer was vastly different than last summer. Although everyone looks at me like I am insane when I say this, this summer was actually not very hot. Yes. It was hot. There were a few heat waves. But it was nothing like last summer and as far as being a tomato plant goes, that makes a huge difference. Another giant difference this summer is that I was around during the early parts of it, when it was the hottest, so the plant got more care and attention when it needed it most. I didn't head out on any sort of vacation until August, and by that point, we had plenty of rain and the temperatures dipped down to around 80 to 85 degrees on a regular basis.

I am pretty sure I'll try black cherry again next summer. I may even try to grow two different varieties, one cherry-sized and one larger.

Gardentime 2011: Basil, Basil, Basil

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Sun, 11 Sep 2011 17:23:00 +0000

I went a little overboard with the basil plants this year. I picked up two different seed packets, one for sweet basil (or pesto basil) and the other for purple ruffle basil. Basil seeds are super tiny and a lot come in a single packet, so this year, as with last year but more so, I went a little nuts planting them.

A group of purple ruffle basil surrounds the mammoth sunflower (more on that in a later post). Sweet basil covers the soil around the tomato plant and hangs out with the hot peppers, both of them. All told, there's about 15 basil plants in the backyard.

Which means either a lot of pesto or some creativity. I've already put the basil to use in this Strawberry Basil Margarita recipe from The Kitchn as well as in strawberry basil ice-pops, from Mark Bittman at the New York Times.

And that leads us to the pesto. Is it the summer of pesto or does it just seem that way because I have an ass-ton of basil? Saveur had an article on pesto, complete with a gazillion (okay, 11) different recipes. I tried the Pesto Genovese recipe from the print issue. Pesto Genovese is your basic pine nuts-basil-cheese-oil pesto recipe. The Saveur recipe has you blanch the basil first which really affects the color in a dramatic way.

It's hard to believe this much basil:

Produced only this much pesto:

Look at that color. Usually, when I make pesto it's a dark green-gray color, not that vibrant green. While blanching adds a not inconsiderable number of steps and time to the process, I recommend it just for that color alone. I think it also made the pureeing process a little easier. Since I don't have a food processor, I have to use a blender. The blanched, softened basil was easier to chop up, giving me a smoother sauce, compared to the chunky versions I've dealt with in the past.

That batch of pesto only used up about half (or less) of the basil in the garden. The plan is to use it on potato gnocchi tomorrow. As for the rest of the basil, well, I see pesto tortellini in the future. Maybe some more ice-pops and margaritas.

Gardentime 2011: Peppers and More

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Thu, 21 Jul 2011 20:18:00 +0000

Peppers, in my mind, are one of the easiest vegetables (fruits) to grow. I've had far more luck growing peppers at home than growing tomatoes or any other plant. Granted, the findings are skewed since this year and last I grew three pepper plants and only one tomato. Maybe the bounty would be equal if I grew three tomato plants too.

This year, I'm growing Purple Beauty Bell Peppers, Poblanos and an unusual pick, Aji Limon. The aji limon peppers that have ripened so far have been super hot but with a nice, citrusy kick. So unlike the cayennes of last summer, I'm getting a bit of dimension with the heat.

The poblanos have been pretty tasty and on the mild side. I've thrown them in a quesadilla and made some casserole using roasted ones. Really, the main reason I picked poblanos this year is because I wanted to make stuffed poblanos and this stuffed pepper recipe that was in Saveur last summer.

Purple Beauty is the fourth type of bell pepper I've attempted. The first year I tried orange peppers, which weren't very profilic, but I also didn't know what I was doing (whereas this year and last I sort of know what I'm doing. They have more space at least). Last year I grew yellow and baby bells, which turned out to be yellow, orange and red. Purple Beauties start out green like all other bell peppers but turn purple much more quickly than a red bell turns red or a yellow bell turns yellow. I find them to be not as sweet as other bell pepper varieties, so they're a good option if you want something between the sharpness of a green pepper and the tangy sweetness of a red pepper.

To end on some bad news, I've had to pull up my chard thanks to a pesky alley cat. That cat decided to crawl all over the chard and use its pot as a litter box. I'm pretty angry about that, since that's a lot of chard to lose to some shit and fur.

Gardentime 2011: Swiss Chard

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Wed, 15 Jun 2011 03:26:00 +0000

I'm scared of spinach but I love Swiss chard. It makes no sense, I know, since they're considered interchangeable in cooking. But spinach makes me gag and chard doesn't. So I'm growing chard in the garden this season and it's doing pretty well.

Tada!

That's just about an ounce of chard. There's a lot more that I haven't picked yet. And here's the thing about chard, it will grow back after you cut it. I'm not really sure how that works, whether it forms new leaves and stalks or new leaves from the stalks you leave behind, but I'm anxious to see it happen, because chard's probably the vegetable I buy (or bought) the most and if it will just keep producing throughout the summer and into fall, I'll be pretty excited.

Crafty Stuff Update

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Tue, 07 Jun 2011 22:08:00 +0000

Just finished this sampler the other night. It's not framed or stretched yet, hence the wrinkles.

It's the companion piece to the sampler I finished a few months ago. It's original title was Gray Scale and my original intent was to have it be pure shades of gray, but apparently, you can't get pure gray floss. So it's more colors with gray, which makes me want to call it Gray-ish instead.

Gardentime 2011: Strawberry Disappointment

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Fri, 03 Jun 2011 21:44:00 +0000

Look at that strawberry. So plump, so red, it must be delicious, yes? Too bad it was the most disgusting thing I've ever put in my mouth.

I'm about 2 seconds away from ripping up the strawberry plant and putting something else in there instead (after dumping out the potting mix which I'm sure is full of nasties by now). It looks as though I'm just going to get one super sour berry from the plant this year. All the others fell prey to fungus or bugs or just shriveled up and died.

I know it's not really the plant's fault. I take a lot of blame for its complete failure. It's clearly the wrong type of strawberry plant for this situation. I am pretty sure it's a June-bearing type but I lost the tag a long time ago so have no way of knowing for sure. June bearers put out runners, which I don't have the space for, and take about a year to get settled.

Adventures In Making a Portfolio

noreply@blogger.com (Amy Freeman) — Fri, 03 Jun 2011 00:01:00 +0000

I'm participating in a showcase day next Monday, held by the Theatre Alliance of Greater Philadelphia. At the showcase, I'll be standing at a table with a few other local dramaturgs, all members of LMDA, while representatives from local companies come by and peruse our portfolios. There will also be designers at the event, as well as auditions for actors.

Anyway, in order to be at this event, I need a portfolio. Which, I didn't have up until now. This is very much not a position I'd recommend anyone find themselves in. I had to review material I hadn't looked at in years and sum up what I did as a dramaturg, which was a little tricky given that some of my projects happened, oh, four years ago.

As I put the portfolio together, I'll write more about the logistics of what went into it and, finally after the showcase, how things worked out.