I promised a tutorial to follow up yesterday's post about winter sowing, so here you go - a step-by-step walkthrough of this unusual and intriguing seed-starting method. Grab some empty jugs and follow along!
Before we jump into the meat of the Backyard Fruit Production series, I wanted to catch you up on something that's been happening a little closer to home. A few months back, I read about a seed-starting technique called winter sowing. Now I already have a whole indoor seed starting set-up (I'll post on that soon, it's pretty slick), but I was drawn to the idea of winter sowing because it's incredibly low-maintenance and basically free. Good things, right?
Winter-sowing involves starting seeds in recycled gallon jugs. They can be milk jugs, vinegar jugs, large water bottles... whatever you've got. They don't even have to be a full gallon, as long as they're reasonably large and either transparent or translucent (so that light can reach the seedlings). A hinge is cut in the jugs for easy access, drainage holes are poked in the bottom, their caps are removed, and seeds are planted inside. The jugs are placed in a clear plastic tote, taken outside in the dead of winter, and left there.
Yesterday was exciting. I went to a workshop on backyard fruit production put on by the Cornell Cooperative Extension. It was fascinating, and awesome, and I took lots and lots of notes (and more than a few pictures), made a few good connections, got answers to some questions, and... froze my face off.
This is going to be a quick post.* And a simple one. But I'm putting it up because I want to include recipes for basic staples on this site - the sides and condiments that pop up over and over again, making all manner of main dishes shine. I'm also posting this because, well, can I ask a question? I'm sure you've made mashed potatoes, oh, probably more times than you can count. But do you have a recipe? Or do you just do as I did for years and years, and wing it?
Last week I made a nice big batch of pumpkin bread to take to church. And when it was done, and perfuming the house gloriously, we tasted it. And then our friends tasted it. And we had some for dessert that night. And we had more for breakfast the next morning. And then... I made another batch, because it was Sunday morning and I had about 3 slices left of the first batch.
This pumpkin bread is good stuff, you guys. It’s moist, and deeply pumpkin-y, with just the right amount of spice. It makes the whole house smell gloriously of October, which, to my mind, is a good thing no matter what time of year it is.