Spring Blues and Greens

Spring officially arrives one week from today. You'd think I'd be energized by the fact. Instead I'm lagging and it shows. I've lost my momentum, and I'm too tired to do anything about it.

I always find the switch to Daylight Saving Time difficult. That loss of an hour throws me right off. My body doesn't know when to sleep or when to eat. My slim grasp of things temporal slips. I know it will get better, and I'm already appreciating the longer daylight hours in the evening, but the first few days are rough. This year the adjustment to the new time has been made even more difficult by interrupted sleep. 

Monday morning brought with it an immense wind storm. The wind battered and rattled the house so viciously that I was awakened by items falling off my shelves. The windows weren't open. This wasn't the wind blowing things around in the house. This was the sheer force of the wind shaking the house until things inside shifted. I thought it was an earthquake. Scary. Considering some of the damage others experienced I'm very lucky that the only thing that suffered was my sleep.

Tuesday brought a different kind of wake-up call. It was my day off, and I really thought I'd get to sleep in a bit. No luck. This time my sleep was interrupted by the call of the wild: a flicker had decided that my chimney was just the right spot to attract a mate. The crazy beastie was up there drumming like he was channelling Keith Moon. So much for sleeping in!

Both the storm and the horny wildlife are signs of spring, but given the lack of sleep it took me until this evening to realize it. Once I clued in I headed out to the garden to see what was coming up. All the green was just what I needed to melt away the exhaustion-induced blues.  

New growth on the bay laurel.

Strawberries peeking through the leaves.

That strange red blob is rhubarb! Transplanted it at an odd time last year. So glad its making an appearance. 

Rather out-of-focus oregano.

Chives. You'd never know I've already been harvesting these. They grow that fast.

A row of parsley that didn't thrive last year somehow made it through the winter and is showing signs of life.

Either spinach or chard. I didn't label it, as I didn't expect to see it. 

Lovely Lovage

I am rich in friends, and as I result I am rich in herbs too.  The post about my new bay tree prompted my friend C to contact me.  As C has a gorgeous lovage plant growing in front of her house, and as I had herbs on my mind, I strongly hinted that my new garden could use some lovage.  Fortunately C is an incredibly intuitive woman who is good at picking up on such hints.  I had lovage and oregano for my garden and some lovage leaves for my kitchen the next day.  

My new lovage plant!

So, what the heck is lovage you ask?  That's a good question. I had to ask too the first time C offered to cut some for me to take home.   

Lovage is an old herb.  It's not that common anymore, and until I saw C's plant I had only ever read about it.  The leaves taste and smell like celery on steroids.  Not surprising, as lovage leaves look like large celery leaves.  What is surprising is the slightly salty flavour the leaves impart to a dish.  I've read that the dried leaves can be used as a salt substitute, but I haven't tried that yet.  I might though.  If my wee plant takes off it could grow up to 7 feet tall.  I'll have more leaves than I know what to do with, as a little bit goes a long way.

Recipes that call for lovage are as uncommon as the plant.  My internet searches resulted in lots of recipes for potato-lovage soup, which is very nice by the way, and several suggestions to add it to recipes I already use, like egg salad.  Since C first introduced me to lovage I've pretty much exhausted all the recipes I'm likely to make.  There are others, but they are the ones that tend to be too exotic (sanathu) or too much work (cheese-stuffed cabbage) for this cook. 

This time I decided to be brave and create my own dish using lovage.  I basically went with what I had in the house and made a salad, and I was rather pleased with how it turned out.  It's tangy, sweet, salty, crisp and crunchy all at the same time.  It's also something that could be switched up quite easily.  No raisins? Use dried cranberries.  The mixed bean sprouts only went in because I had them in the house.  I bet walnuts or pecans would work just as well.  Prep and clean-up were also easy.  (You'll notice that I make the dressing first in the same bowl the salad will be served in.  I know that's not the traditional way to make a salad, but it means one less item to wash come clean-up time. Always a good thing in a house with manual dishwashers.) 

Salad with Honey-Mustard-Lovage Dressing

Makes 2 generous servings. 

Honey-Mustard-Lovage Dressing
1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp Dijon mustard (approx measurement)
1 tsp honey (also approx measurement)
2-4 minced lovage leaves
pinch of sea salt

Mix the dressing ingredients in a large bowl.

Salad 
4-5 romaine leaves
1 crisp apple
1 small handful mixed bean sprouts (maybe 1/4 to 1/3 cup)
1/3 of an English cucumber
1 small handful raisins

Tear romaine into bite-sized pieces, chop apple and cucumber and toss into bowl with dressing.  Top with sprouts and raisins. 

What's Up?

It's the time of year when winter's few appeals have long worn thin. All the major celebrations of the season are over (hubby's birthday was on Sunday - more on that soon), and spring seems a long way off. It even snowed here yesterday. I am obviously suffering from February funk. In an attempt to shake off the blahs I've been trying to spend some time outside. Today I went out to see what was happening in our garden. I was surprised to see what was up.

One brave strawberry plant.

A blackberry vine. This one is a volunteer. I'm not sure if we'll keep it. Blackberry vines grow like mad here. Once they start there is a danger that they will completely take over the yard.

Sage. This one grows in a very sheltered spot, so we have sage all year.

Oregano, or possibly marjoram is starting to reappear.


The first sprigs of mint.

Chives are making a comeback.


Snowdrops and crocuses are also starting to bloom, and the first green blades of tulips, daffodils and bluebells are poking through the earth.

Our garden consists mostly of perennials. We'd like to have a vegetable garden, but past experiments have been less than successful. Poor soil and urban wildlife make growing veggies a challenge. (We have deer, rabbits, raccoons, rats and a huge assortment of birds.) We do keep trying though. I can't quite decide what to experiment with this year. Maybe greens if I can think of a way to keep the wildlife out. Or more herbs. They seem particularly promising after what I saw out in the garden today.

Saucy New Year!

Happy New Year!

This holiday season challenged my intentions. Snowy sidewalks and crowds at the stores made one-stop shopping a priority. Shopping around for local goods pretty much stopped. Treats at work, dinners with friends and other celebrations made worrying about food origins and ingredient lists pointless. Holiday traditions also played a role in food choices. Our Christmas Day trifle contained local berries and whipped cream from a BC dairy, but time and sanity led us to choose Bird’s custard and store bought ladyfingers rather than homemade versions. And you know what? I’m OK with that. Holidays are stressful enough without obsessing over the details, so I gave myself permission early in the season to relax and enjoy. So I did.

After several weeks of indulgence, I’m feeling ready to get back on track. This morning I was poking around the fridge, looking at what was left from the holidays, and considering a New Year clean-out. This was prompted by the discovery of an almost empty jar of jam of unknown age. It’s funny how something can be in front of you, as in every time you open the fridge, and you just stop seeing it after a while. Closer inspection of my fridge revealed several jars and bottles that I had forgotten about. Most of these contained sauces of some variety. A friend from England once commented that North Americans need such large refrigerators to accommodate all the sauces they use in their cooking. After looking in my own fridge I see her point.

I have to ask why we need so many prepared items to flavour our food. Historically foods were seasoned for a variety of reasons. Salt was used to cure and tenderize foods. Some herbs and spices are known to have medicinal and antimicrobial qualities. Even if early cooks weren’t aware of these properties, it’s no coincidence that the spiciest foods tend to come from hottest countries. Of course herbs and spices were used to add flavour. In some cases they may have been used to disguise the taste of less than fresh foods. Of these early reasons, only flavour seems to explain the numerous bottles in my fridge. But why do I need so many ways to season my food? Could it be that my basic ingredients are lacking flavour of their own? Has my broccoli travelled so far that it no longer tastes of broccoli? Or is it because it was selected for features other than taste? Whatever the reason, I can’t avoid the fact that I really need to clean out my fridge.