From Sow True:
From Southern Exposure Seed Exchange:
Arkansas Little Leaf Pickling Cucumber
And I have planted Georgia Southern Collard seeds from Botanical Interests.
From Sow True:
From Southern Exposure Seed Exchange:
Arkansas Little Leaf Pickling Cucumber
And I have planted Georgia Southern Collard seeds from Botanical Interests.
I don’t really care for fresh cucumbers. I don’t hate ’em. There is no spit-that-out-it’s-nasty reaction. I just tend to eat around them in salads. But, I do love them pickled. My paternal grandmother’s sweet pickles are the best in the world, hands down. But, pickling in general is a new trick I am learning.
I have a coworker who is a pickling god and he has inspired me to experiment. I have pickled jalapeños and banana peppers and those have turned out well. (Equal parts vinegar and water, boiling poured into jars stuffed with peppers, lidded and flipped over to seal as they cool.)
A couple of years ago, I saw pictures online of some bitty cucumbers that look like thumb-size watermelons. On investigation, I learned that they are called Mexican sour gherkins. I got a packet of seeds and Chuck put them in one of the raised beds this summer.
Two important things to know about these cucumbers. One, they are climbers. Two, they will consume your garden given half a chance. They tried to eat the bed they were in and when I tried to lift them up to some bamboo poles that Ursula brought me, they were putting out extra roots. Next year, they get something to climb on from the beginning.
When I tried pickling them, I didn’t take the tininess into consideration. I turned them into sweet pickle raisins. And, no, you cannot use those little rocks for anything. I think that if I will put boiling sweet pickle solution on them and leave them a little while, they will work.
I did make dill pickles with them and they are tasty. I stuck a couple of cloves of garlic in a couple of half pint jars that I had filled with whole cucumbers, shook about a tablespoon of dried dill in each one and poured boiling 50% vinegar over them. A couple of weeks later, I took a jar to my dad and we tried them out.
Yum.
I planted Jerusalem artichokes around February. Today, I noticed that they are blooming.
I’ll add a picture later when my camera has charged.
Addendum:
This is what they look like blooming. at first look, very similar to the swamp sunflowers by the shed and on the side of the house, but with different leaves and very different roots. Also, slightly different bloom times.
This is what the sunchokes look like up close.
And this is the swamp sunflowers. They are just starting to form buds.
Both plants are great to feed pollinators at the end of Summer and in the Fall. Both freeze to the ground in Winter. Both are very tall and flower heavily with yellow blossoms.
Only one will feed you.
My husband is from West Virginia and he says he never heard of anyone eating plain tomato sandwiches until he moved South.
I find that astonishing.
I come from a place where people argue about the correct condiment for a tomato sandwich. Duke’s mayonnaise or Hellmann’s? Or are you a complete heathen and use Miracle Whip? Is pepper too much of an addition?
For those not from around here, Miracle Whip is “salad dressing,” which is mayonnaise with added sugar. Southern cooks are infamous for adding a pinch of sugar to just about everything and this is a commercial variation on that theme. I loved it when I was a child but lost my taste for it 20 or 30 years ago.

Some friends and I had a conversation about tomato sandwiches, recently. I was amused to hear the voices from the Midwest and Northeast talking about tomato sandwiches with bacon, smoked turkey, cheese or other plants like mushrooms, avocados or onions.
No.
Just, no.
That is not a tomato sandwich. That is a turkey sandwich with tomato. Or a BLT. Or a vegetable sandwich. Or a cheese and tomato sandwich. All delicious and delightful. But, NOT a tomato sandwich.
I acknowledge that to purists, the occasional sprouts and celery salt I enjoy are pushing the envelope. So is mayo made with basil infused olive oil. While they are very tasty, they are treading the razor’s edge where a tomato sandwich becomes Something Else.
If you are from some other part of the world, pick (from a garden, not a grocery bin) a tomato that slices like this:

Your bread may be toasted or not, mayo on one or both sides, salt and pepper are optional. You will need to stand over the sink to eat it because the tomato juice will drip from a truly ripe fruit.
THAT is the flavor of a Southern summer.