6 minute read
June is rhubarb picking time in the garden, so pucker up
By JESSICA DAMIANO Associated Press
Years ago, when my nowgrown daughter Justine was a toddler, we visited a U-pick farm where she plucked plump, ripe strawberries from a field of sprawling plants. Some made it into the basket on that sunny June day; others went directly into her mouth. That’s when she learned that June is for strawberries. It’s for roses, too, which makes sense when you consider that both plants are members of the Rosacea family.
Admittedly, I was skeptical after my first tasting of a raw, sour-bitter rhubarb stalk all those years ago. But, with my mouth still puckered and fingers crossed, I went ahead and added chunks of it to my strawberry pie filling.
And, as I learned at the farm that day, June is also for rhubarb, which I had never seen before.
Following the lead of other strawberry pickers waiting to pay for their loot, I added a bunch of rhubarb to my cart, wondering aloud what I would do with it. My fellow shoppers educated me about pies and jams, so I went home with a mission to prepare and learn how to grow the alien, red, celery-like stalks.
I’ve since learned that rhubarb is a popular June harvest in New England and some north-central and Midwestern states, where strawberry-rhubarb pie reigns supreme. It’s not quite as uncommon in my New York home as it was all those years ago, but I would hardly call it a staple.
The good news is that for those who have difficulty finding it at the supermarket — or simply want to grow their own — adding rhubarb to the garden is a worthwhile endeavor, albeit one that requires patience.
Perennial in horticultural zones 3-8, rhubarb can be expected to return and produce for up to 10 years. Plant their crowns, which are bare-roots, in fall or in spring when the weather is still cool. They will spread, so give them room by setting them 3-4 feet apart in similarly spaced rows. Bury their buds, or “eyes,” 2 inches below the soil line, ensuring they face upward in compost-enriched soil.
Keep plants well-watered and, when the weather warms up, apply 2 inches of mulch to retain moisture, discourage weeds and regulate soil temperature. Then apply a slow-release, balanced fertilizer with a 10-10-10 ratio of nutrients.
Do not harvest any stalks during rhubarb’s first year in your garden. Doing so would imperil the plant’s longevity. But remove flowers and their stems so the plant can channel its energy into root growth than two-thirds of a single plant. instead of seed production. Replenish mulch in late fall, after temperatures drop.
Rhubarb leaves are poisonous, so remove and discard them before slicing the stalks into 1-inch pieces for cooking. I repeat: Do not eat the leaves.
Admittedly, I was skeptical after my first tasting of a raw, sour-bitter rhubarb stalk all those years ago. But, with my mouth still puckered and fingers crossed, I went ahead and added chunks of it to my strawberry pie filling. The pie was delicious, of course; its sweet berries offset and perfectly complemented by the acidic tang of the rhubarb. I was an instant — and astonished — convert.
You can start harvesting — sparingly — in the plant’s second year, removing no more than four stalks per plant when they are red (unless you’re growing a pink or green variety) and between 12-18 inches long. Taking more would risk sapping the plant of energy, which would reduce future output, so practice restraint.
You may harvest freely during and after the third year, but never remove more
The vegetable, regarded as a fruit just as tomatoes are fruits commonly regarded as vegetables, isn’t a one-trick pony, either. It works equally well in jams, relish, muffins and even simmered for 10 minutes, then blended with fruit into smoothies. Try roasting, stewing, sautéing and serving over ice cream, or adding it to apple sauce recipes. Just don’t forget the sweetener.
Got questions about spring gardening? Send them to Jessica Damiano at jessica@jessicadamiano.com with “Gardening Question” in the subject line. She’ll answer selected questions in a future AP gardening column.
By K aren Hugg The Washington Post
As a garden designer, I often meet with clients who’ve tried to beautify their yard with plants but end up frustrated. A little border along the fence may sit with a few anemic perennials and a half-dead sapling on dry dirt.
“We realized we needed your help,” they say.
They tried with good intentions to design a garden, and somehow it didn’t work out. I get that. But hiring a professional gardener isn’t always necessary.
You can create a happy garden on your own as long as you avoid the mistakes novice gardeners often make.
Here are eight of the most common.
1. Not figuring out what kind of soil you have
Soils are the most overlooked, yet integral element of a successful garden. I often come across detailed advice about amending soils with bone meal and chicken manure and all else. While this may be useful for more experienced gardeners, simply knowing what kind of soil you have goes a long way toward a garden’s success.
Pick a spot where you want to plant, and, with a full-size shovel (not a trowel), dig up one scoop. From that scoop, take a handful and squeeze.
If the soil is reddish-brown and stays clumped together, you probably have clay, which is dense and holds too much water. If it immediately falls apart after a squeeze, you probably have sand, often tan or grayish, which drains too easily. If the clump crumbles after a few seconds and is dark in color, you could have silty or loamy soil, which means it’s fairly healthy. A usually reliable way to fix clay, sandy or really any soil is to mix in a bag of organic compost for every few square feet of dirt. Compost contains a variety of particle sizes and nutrient-rich organic matter, which helps plants thrive.
2. Creating a border that’s too small or large Oftentimes in client yards, I encounter a shallow border with giant shrubs or a deep border with tiny annuals. If you want that lush, layered look, create a deep border with shrubs at the back and perennials in the foreground. If your yard is small, you can create a shallow border with alternating perennials and a few dwarf shrubs.
Designer Erin Lau of Erin Lau Design in Seattle recommends three feet of depth per each row of plants. “To have a border with visible layering, you need to increase the depth to at least six feet,” she says.
3. Planting in the wrong place
Roses like full sun; ferns do not. When you shop for plants, don’t only check the tag, but also ask a nursery employee for placement advice. If you don’t plant the right plant in the right place, it won’t be happy - and neither will you. “The plant might either die or suffer unnecessarily,” Lau says, “grow too large for the space, or be invasive.” For reliable, detailed information, consult the Missouri Botanical Garden or Oregon State University landscape websites.
Dave Whitinger, executive director of the National Gardening Association, suggests mail-order collections as a simple way to get started. “My favorite is Bluestone Perennials,” he says. “They have whole garden collections, and you can pick the theme and they’ll send you all the plants that are properly grouped for that kind of garden. It’s an easy way to pick a bunch of winners with one purchase.”
4. Buying too few plants for a space, or too many Figuring out how many plants to put in a border is tricky business. New gardeners often plant flowering perennials, then later wonder why the border looks sickly — usually, it’s because they didn’t buy enough for the space. In other cases, they overbought, put the plants in the ground six inches apart, and now the area is a tangled mass of greenery.
When I design, I use markers to stand in for plants before installing them — palmsized rocks, pots, bamboo sticks, bricks and irrigation flags (what I use) all work. My rough rule is to leave two to three feet between shrubs and one foot between perennials. A plant’s label may tell you that less space is fine, but always err on the side of more.
5. Buying for flowers instead of foliage
There’s a reason I frequently see roses, lilacs and mums in newbies’ yards: When they’re in flower, they’re stunning. But tea roses can turn gangly, most lilacs only bloom for one month a year, and mums are amped up on fertilizer every fall so we can deny that winter is coming. Instead of gravitating to flowers (and, believe me, the urge is difficult to resist), focus on foliage.
Lee Reich | In The Garden