Despite the necessity of the woodstove and the fact that it never got above 50 degrees yesterday (Hello, rainy and unpleasant fall weather! Perhaps you could go away and come back later? Thanks so much), the garden is still providing all our vegetal sustenance. I was surprised yesterday how much was still out there, in fact, when I took stock.
I feel a list coming on.
Last night for dinner we had some roasted beets, stewed leeks, and collard greens, all freshly picked. In addition to those, there are:
1) The Green Beans That Won't Die (planted in May and grimly soldiering on)
2) The immortal Ronde de Nice zucchini
3) Bell peppers that were supposed to turn red but are protesting all the cool weather we've had by stubbornly staying green
4) Basil bushes that I've been studiously ignoring because I really have all the frozen pesto I need
6) Some very cute little cabbage babies that formed on a cabbage plant I had cut the main head off of some time ago but left in to see if it would do anything interesting
8) Yet more beets that have been sitting in the ground all summer and yet are still sweet and not at all woody (beets appreciate cool weather)
9) Parsnips, which will be covered with leaves or straw and wintered over
10) Radishes, which are the only fall planting that seem likely to amount to anything--you'd think we would know by now not to bother trying fall lettuce and carrots
11) Parsley, which I loathe and detest but which I planted for the MiL anyway because I am JUST THAT NICE
12) Three very large pumpkins that are supposed to be pie pumpkins but look awfully big for pie pumpkins, which makes me doubt their edibility
13) A volunteer pumpkin near the compost that looks a lot more like a pie pumpkin, but could be ANYTHING, i.e., the question of its edibility is also in doubt
14) A volunteer squash plant in the compost (squash like to volunteer) that has one squash on it that greatly resembles an acorn squash, but, once again, could be anything
As you can see, we are not lacking produce. I'm hoping to have parsnips and collards through most of the winter, though I might need to cover the collard plants to keep them alive. Last year, we ate the last collards in December, but those were totally unprotected and unloved. Maybe with just a wee bit of coddling, I can coax them through to have fresh collards from the garden for the traditional New Year's Day dinner.
And, uh, that's it, I guess. A recital of vegetables, yes. I am the consummate entertainer.