The garden please and NOT the back porch.
After a summer where I had to tear out the blighted tomatoes (who didn’t?) and my 18″ zinnias topped four feet, I was ready to end this weird gardening year. I moved dirt around, poured on coffee grounds, dried leaves and wet newspaper and covered with black plastic to mulch for the winter.
Bumper crop of the year? Parsley. eh.
Pickles are a rather naughty food, I suppose…
Yesterday we headed over to the 12th Annual Rosendale International Pickle Festival. It was a little bit small county fair, a little Brooklyn Flea and a whole lot of crapola that you can find at any gathering selling stuff. The international element was the Japanese tea ceremony happening in a corner. Very random. We were there for the pickles. After traveling through tents of tshirts, fried blooming onions and tchotchkes, we found the pickled thingies. It’s not just for cucumbers anymore. We sampled much, ate fried pickle chips and pickle on a stick (see above) before choosing which pickles were coming home with us. We then made sure to admire the ribbon-adorned winners. There was a woman who was very proud of her prize winning spicy cantaloupe.
Hey why not?