Is That a Zucchini in Your Pocket or are You Just Happy to see Me?

Zucchinis are funny, I can look at them growing and think they are still a little too small, I go back a couple of days later and they are the size of baseball bats. Not only that, but because the leaves are so big and the stalks are so thick, I can easily miss the zucchini altogether until I trip over the darn thing. Just in case you're wondering, I put the 1 kg jar of peanut butter in the picture for scale.

The first year I was here, I saw some zucchini plants so I bought them, not knowing a thing about them. I had actually eaten it once in my life, at a restaurant. I really only bought them for something to stick in the garden. I figured they'd be like cucumber plants, just a little bit bigger, HA! I was amazed at how big they got! Their broad, dark green leaves were easily two feet across and I constantly mistook the stalks for zucchinis because they were so thick. Some of the plants were waist high. On top of that, I also discovered that six plants could feed a family of ten, I had 12 plants for a family of four, even I can do the math here. The next year, all my zuc plants died before even producing one little old zucchini. Talk about going from feast to famine. Since then, I've had a little success with them but nothing matching that first harvest ... until this year. I have 4 plants all producing nicely. I do try to harvest them before they get too big, but as you can see, I'm failing miserably.

So what does one do with zucchini anyhow? That first year's bounty forced me to become incredibly inventive with recipes. I have discovered how amazingly versatile this humble little veggie is.


One of the favorite ways we enjoy them is in a recipe I adapted and now call Zucchini Pie. It's very tasty, it has a base of cheese, eggs, cream and sour cream; there's tomato, garlic, onions, fresh basil, bread crumbs, Parmesan, and a bunch of other tasty things in it. It's great hot from the oven and cold on lunches. So, of course since it's so wonderful, it takes forever to make. The zucchini needs to sit in salt then rinse & dried, then brushed with oil and broiled. There's chopping, mincing and grating galore, not to mention making the yeast crust. Try as I might, I cannot make a zucchini pie in under four hours. So when I do make it, I double or triple the recipe, thus cutting down the time per pie considerably, takes me five hours to make 3, instead of 4 hours to make one. They freeze beautifully and I haven't taken one to a potluck where it wasn't a hit. It's also great to have them handy in the freezer for a quick meal or a side dish.


I found a recipe for zucchini bread. Again I adapted it a bit to our tastes. You can't even taste the zucchini in this. It's a tasty loaf with lemon and Cinnamon. It converts to muffin size with no problem. It's easy to toss a muffin at the kids when they insist they don't have time for breakfast, and since they are eating a muffin anyhow, they might as well have some juice. And hey, how 'bout cereal or an egg with that muffin? The muffins also go into lunch bags frequently. They freeze well, too. The bread is great with tea or coffee (and just a leeetle whipped cream). Easily warmed in the oven from frozen state, they're a life-saver when friends pop in for a cuppa.

Shredded zucchini freezes beautifully, no blanching, no mucking around. So far, no matter how big they get, I don't need to seed them or remove the membrane. I grate it in the food processor, divvy it up into freezer bags in two cup portions and I'm done. When I want to make a zucchini bread, it's ready. It' also great in olive oil with onions, garlic and a little bit of fresh ginger, takes all of 2 - 3 minutes to fry up. I throw it into chili or spaghetti sauce or use it in a stir-fry. I can puree it and use it in baking, substituting some of the liquid in the recipe. It adds nutritional value without adding the calories. It's mellow flavor works with any other flavoring and doesn't overtake the recipe.

And finally, they keep really well in my cold room. At least they do when they are the size of Louisville sluggers. By the time we ran out of zucchini that first year, it was January and I had only lost one or two to spoilage. So when I'm up to my eyeballs in teens, car pooling, harvesting, chickens, rabbits and their counterparts - dust bunnies, and whatever else gets thrown my way, I just pop them in the cold room. Sliced thick and dipped in batter, they fry up golden as the sun and still taste of the summer morn they were picked.

Late Summer On the DaM Farm

Early last week, I went out for one last look around before going to bed and something about the night made me think that late summer is here. I don't know what exactly it was, the dew was heavy and the air was past stillness. The signs have been here for a while; days a little shorter and the nights have lost their heat and humidity. Of course the harvest is coming in fast and furious, even my tomatoes are sporting the barest blush of red on their green skin. But it's always at night when I realize that it's late summer.

I always think of summer as a small boy. A little guy, may-be four - six years old. Summer here is like that wee fellow who has spent the day at the beach throwing sand in the air, chasing seagulls and splashing in the waves. By the end of the day, he sits on his oversized beachball, his toasted hand supporting his flushed face By his stillness and the deepness of his thought I know he's thinking of leaving. He's tired and spent, the warmth he has exuded all day is waning and a chill touches down as the sun sets on the waves.

So small boy Summer is having a last look around where he has had so much pleasure and brought life, laughter and joy. But he won't rush, he'll hang around for a little, waiting until he sees his red-headed sister making her way towards him. Late Summer and I both now wait for Autumn.

The American Goldfinch or Hello Again!

Sometimes you don't know you're missing something until you see it again.

Before we moved out to BC, we lived in a house that had a large, southern living room window. I planted cosmos in front of it. That summer I delighted in sitting in the living room watching these tiny little yellow and black birds eat the cosmo seeds. I had no idea what they were, I just called them wild canaries.

I never saw this little yellow bird when I lived out west, probably because I was in a highly developed area and the only wildlife seemed to be teenagers.

I was just delighted one morning after moving into our old farmhouse to see one flit by. I planted cosmos in hopes it would attract them but it didn't work. I contented myself with the occassional sudden flash of yellow on a summer's day. Well, at least I knew they were here.

At the feed store this spring, I noticed these long mesh bags declaring that they were American Goldfinch feeders and for fun I bought one, filled it with seed and hung it off a crabapple tree by my butterfly garden. For a couple of weeks, it didn't attract anything. Occassionally the wind would push it back and forth, making it sway. Great - I now have a swing for the wind's amusement. Then one morning, there was a little yellow and black bird clinging to the side of the feed bag having breakfast! Soon word got out in the bird community and more little yellow and black birds showed up. Now I can watch five or six of them scramble for position on the bag while a few wait in the branches of the crabapple tree. It is an absolutely delightful way to spend 15 minutes while having my morning coffee.

They's A-Crowing!

My childhood memories of chickens were of dirty, smelly things. Their white feathers always had guck on them, they were forever running around in dirty water and drinking it. But the thing I remember most is that they were nasty; nasty to each other and nasty to humans, too. They ran away from them and squawked at them, and any chance they got, they'd peck at them. Of course, the chickens I saw were in zoos or petting farms and those situations weren't all that pleasant to begin with. Now seeing them in a environment more suited for them, I realize they are quite the little characters, full of fun and manageable mischief. The chickens spend their days out in the run, eating bugs and green apples that fall from the trees. They so enjoy dust baths and preening their feathers, staying clean and healthy. They come running to greet me, wings flapping, eyes bright and hop around my feet waiting for their treat.

I'm surprised at how easy to keep they are. I'm using the deep litter method in the coop. That means the wood chips are deep, at least 6 inches, and all you do is rake it up every couple of days or so, and add more when needed. This way the litter is only changed once or twice a year. It's working out great, very little smell and things seem to be clean - well, considering it is a chicken coop.

I built little stands for the two waterers and that was a great idea, the wood chips and other uckies stay out of the water so it stays fresh. I also built a feeder, just a long wooden box with and open edge at the bottom, it's got a built in stand to keep it up out of the chips as well. The box is big enough to pour in a whole 40 kg bag of feed. It's pretty good but the chickens like to stand on top of it so I'm constantly washing the lid. I'm hoping to make a few lids so I can change them and give them a really good disinfecting cleaning every so often. Don built beautiful nest boxes for them and I'm hoping to get them in the coop this week. It's still too early for the hens to be laying but we are all looking forward to our own farm fresh eggs!

In the morning, I can hear the roosters crowing. It's a soothing sound, not shrill or grating at all. It's low and mellow; and I can hear such joy and confidence resounding in their greeting of the sun. It's a new day and they're going to enjoy it to the fullest. Humans could take a lesson from that, must be darn near impossible to have a bad day if you welcome it with that kind of gusto and confidence.



This is Tobias, one of my Buff Orpington roos. He's a very dominant fellow and keeps everybody in line.


This is a Partridge Chantecler roo, he doesn't have a name yet, though under my breath, I call him Wimpy. He's very mellow and even the hens can boss him around. In fact, I'd say they delight in it. But he goes his own way and seems happy enough milling around with the rest.