Dreams of spring planting confront lingering winter

loading...
There’s no fool like an April fool. The first of April was a beautiful day, sunny and warm with the birds a-twitter and the crocus aglow. The perennial bed in front of the house was without snow, issuing a clear siren call.
Sign in or Subscribe to view this content.

There’s no fool like an April fool.

The first of April was a beautiful day, sunny and warm with the birds a-twitter and the crocus aglow.

The perennial bed in front of the house was without snow, issuing a clear siren call.

I spent a glorious hour and a half yanking on lifeless weeds, trimming back the odd perennial and removing the leaves that had gathered post-raking last fall. I cleaned out between the steppingstones and ruffled up patches of mulch. I carted tub after tub of detritus. I stood and admired my handiwork, dreaming of daffodils and peonies and vegetables and heat.

I could barely walk for two days after.

So what, thought I. This was the start of the season and I would be out there working hard.

Shoveling snow, it turns out.

April Fools’ on me.

With more time to think – enough already – I’ve been finding myself wondering how my root crops will do this year. I know, I know. It’s a little early. But a gardener’s got to dream.

The first crop will be radishes. Who doesn’t love radishes? Well, my sister for one, but that isn’t the point. Last year’s oddity was a big, black radish that was plain scary. It tasted great, but in the looks category, it was scary.

Enter Helios. Yes, the god of the sun will be making an appearance in my garden as a radish. Picture a perfect, round radish. Now picture it yellow. I found the seeds at Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds, but they are available through Seed Savers Exchange, too, which says they are the same ones described in the 1885 Vilmorin book “The Vegetable Garden” as the “Small Early Yellow Turnip Radish.”

I will be planting Hailstones, as well. From Fedco comes this pure white radish, which was described back in 1904 as “the quickest growing radish on record.” It goes by the name of White Globe or White Globe Hailstone, too.

Further along this summer will come the carrots. I love odd carrots, and this year is no exception with Atomic Red and Jaune du Doubs.

Atomic Red, from Fedco, is described as “really red,” with even the leaves and stems showing red. A number of seed sellers say this carrot is a source of lycopene, a good thing to know if tomatoes aren’t your thing.

Jaune du Doubs, also from Fedco and really fun to say, is a 19th century French heirloom. Gourmet Seed International describes it as the standard for “hundreds of years” and a common sight at 16th and 17th century European markets, at least until yellow carrots fell into disfavor in the 20th century, when orange carrots took over. Fedco also says Jaune du Doubs tastes better cooked than raw.

In the potato department, I have saved a bunch of seed potatoes from last year’s beds, which gave me the chance to buy a couple of other varieties this year.

I have longed to try Maris Piper, mostly because of the name. An heirloom from the British Isles sporting cream-colored skin and flesh, Maris Piper is said to make mashed potatoes “that are out of this world,” according to the Ronniger Potato Farm Web site. When I looked it up online, I discovered Maris Piper has its very own Web site at http://www.marispiper.com. and a lovely picture of a British potato field in the North Lincolnshire Wolds that could double for a County site. It’s a small world.

Then there is Garnet Chile (aka Garnet Chili), a potato proved to be an ancestor to most current potato cultivars around the world. According to the Washington State University Potato Information & Exchange Web site, these red-skinned potatoes can be traced back to an 1853 seedling of the Rough Purple Chile “procured by the Rev. Chauncey Goodrich from South America in 1851 in an attempt to stave off the then on-going problem of potato degeneration.” Also driving his quest was the Great Potato Famine in the late 1840s, caused by potato blight that left more than a million people dead in Ireland.

WSU describes Garnet Chile as “perhaps the most important variety in North American potato growing.” All of which meant I really wanted to try the spud that sort of saved the world.

Another root crop that harkens back to the Andes has long intrigued me, so I decided to give oca, Oxalis tuberosa, a try.

This vegetable was introduced to Europe in the 1830s and to New Zealand in the 1860s, where it is now called New Zealand yam. I saw pictures of the tubers, a mix of purple, pink and cream and thought they might be fun to grow. I figured I could steal away some of my potato space and hoped I wouldn’t miss the potatoes that would be lost to grow 10 hills of oca, like the year when I grew space-hogging sweet potatoes.

So when they arrived the other day, I was surprised to find a little, wee bag filled with grape-size tubers.

April fool.

If you think that’s odd …

What are you growing that’s new to you or just downright different this year?

I’ll need your name, address and phone number (in case I need to call you and not for the gardening masses), along with a description of your oddity in the flower or vegetable realm and where you found it.

Send it to either: Janine Pineo, Bangor Daily News, P.O. Box 1329, Bangor, ME 04402-1329 or to jpineo@bangordailynews.net. If you e-mail, type “odd garden plant” in the subject line so you don’t end up in the trash with the junk mail.

Deadline for submissions is Monday, May 7.

I’ll weed through your offerings and we’ll go wild in the May 19-20 publication, just in time for planting season.

We hope.

Janine Pineo’s e-mail address is jpineo@bangordailynews.net.


Have feedback? Want to know more? Send us ideas for follow-up stories.

comments for this post are closed

By continuing to use this site, you give your consent to our use of cookies for analytics, personalization and ads. Learn more.