Zucchini Need Not Apply

“There is a serious movement here in the Northwest, and in other places, to start growing our own food again: in city centers, on rooftop gardens and in pots; further out into the suburbs, in backyard gardens like ours. Farther out in the country, my brother and sister-in-law regularly plant, tend, and harvest a garden big enough for a family of 20, and their pantry shelves are heavy with jars of home-preserved goodies.” Anita Sullivan

The Highest Cauldron

by Anita Sullivan

EUGENE Oregon—(Weekly Hubris)—8/27/2012—Tonight, as my husband and I were eating zucchini croquettes made with coconut flour, tarragon, dill, eggs, feta, sour cream, red onions, paprika salt and pepper, I had the same blinding insight I have had for the past several years, always in early August.

Thank goodness I resisted the temptation to plant zucchini this year!

Squash is so seductive. It grows almost no matter what you do. It makes you feel fully realized as a gardener. And, this year especially, I could have used a bit of that buttressing up. The same global warming that is drying up corn in the Midwest has been extending our traditional Pacific Northwest cloudy spring well into summer.

Consider, for example, that in one of my raised beds at this very moment are the TWO CARROTS that finally germinated in July, after I planted the seeds three different times. Consider that I planted pole beans three (or was it five?) times, beginning during the rains of late May and continuing through the rains of early June, middle June, and late June.

Even the cucumbers, second only to zucchini in the amount of garden space that they tend to commandeer—even they are only now cautiously (yes, I said “cautiously”) putting out yellow blossoms and heading rather sedately towards the flagstone path, despite my standing threat: “THIS is what happens to any vegetable or fruit that I find trying to cross over into the flower beds!”

Hence you can see the temptation to plant zucchini which, like blackberries and morning glory, seems oblivious to this thing we call weather.

But thus far I remain steadfast. The “zucchini question” shows me up as some kind of Puritan food moralist. In good weather or in poor, I simply will not plant a garden that produces more than we can eat ourselves (with some left over to give away to friends and family). I will neither can, nor will I freeze. No, I will never allow myself to be overworked or otherwise intimidated by AN EXCESS OF VEGETABLES. I have a horror of it. I can see myself enveloped in steam, standing by a huge black pot of boiling water with my tongs, dipping mason jars. No, no, no: anything but that briar patch!

By choice and by chance, therefore, the daily summertime harvest from my lovely backyard garden continues to be downright pathetic. Ludicrous even. Today I brought in 12 green beans and one tomato. I added the beans to my store-bought stash of fresh chard, and it made for a terrific side dish to the croquettes. Last month, I harvested about 15 peas each night. Sometimes we ate them raw; sometimes cooked. It was gloriously abstemious, fabulously satisfying.

In the basement laundry room I have a bushel of potatoes and about the same amount of garlic. We’ll probably have enough to last us till Christmas. My freezer, meanwhile, holds three ice trays, a loaf of bread I made a few days ago, and a pint of coconut-milk ice cream. Nothing more.

There is a serious movement here in the Northwest, and in other places, to start growing our own food again: in city centers, on rooftop gardens and in pots; further out into the suburbs, in backyard gardens like ours. Farther out in the country, my brother and sister-in-law regularly plant, tend, and harvest a garden big enough for a family of 20, and their pantry shelves are heavy with jars of home-preserved goodies. I commend this movement heartily, and the people who are re-discovering the simple joy of living in touch with the earth from which we all spring. It’s a healthy and sane thing to do, always has been.

But for me, and my hapless, non-gardening husband, we will probably complete our born days as grasshoppers among the ants. In summer, our meals consist of what the garden happens to spit out on each particular day, even if it’s only a parsley, basil and garlic sandwich with a handful of cherry tomatoes on the side. When summer is over, we go back to relying on the organic food from Mexico and California that regularly gets us through the winter months (along with fabulous fish from the nearby seashore, eggs from our local building contractor and, yes, some coffee and wine from slightly farther away. . . .)

“Nothing in excess” was emphasized in my childhood as a healthy guiding principle, and I came to realize that following this principle meant a life that mandated a No Zucchini in the Garden policy. I believe I am a better person for having recognized this particular consequence early in life (along with, I should have mentioned sooner, no lettuce either).

It’s not a life path that would work for everyone, but it works for me.

(I did, however, casually poke five pumpkin seeds into an area of very poor soil in the lower part of the garden, and recently I noticed two rather scary-looking plants doing morning push-ups there in the shade of the apple tree. . . .)

Photos by Anita Sullivan.