Today’s Harvest: Black Raspberries

Our raspberry bushes are really bearing fruit this year! And the caging the Brit did last weekend is keeping the birds away. So far we’re getting black ones. Last year we had red ones. And I’ve been offered an everbearing raspberry plant, which we think would be a great addition.

It might even get the Brit’s mind off strawberries!

There were even more, but I’ve been eating them!
Advertisements

Battle Strawberry

Every year, we try to grow strawberries, and every year the critters (we think mostly squirrels) get the berries first. And every year, the Brit says he’s going to outsmart them.

The strawberry plants, which began as two plants from the pick-your-own farm down the road, initially went into a raised bed and quickly took it over. We got some berries early on, and they were so delicious that we kept going for more, even as the animals started beating us to them. One year, we reclaimed the bed for tomatoes and other crops, and since then, we have used pots (and given many away). They’d overwinter in the garage and then we’d start the battles.

At first, there was peace this year. The strawberry plants grew. Then they started flowering. A few days later, the tops were munched. Thanks, deer.

So the pots went into the cold frame, cracked open with some wood to keep them from baking. The leaves started coming back, and all seemed fine for a while–til the first strawberry started developing. Something got in and had a snack.

So the Brit covered the cold frame with chicken wire and put a piece of hardware cloth under the entire cold frame to keep the more determined ones from digging their way in. That should foil them, he thought. Plants grew some more, and a strawberry started ripening. Next thing we know, something has eaten half of the berry and left the other half on the hardware cloth.

See the red spot? That's a half-eaten strawberry.
strawberries protected by chicken wire.

Now the mild-mannered Brit was starting to get angry. And he vowed they wouldn’t win. He found some long strips of deer netting that we used to use as walls on the raised beds, and wrapped the cold frame and chicken wire with that.

And guess what happened? Something still got in! Guerrilla warfare at its worst!

We immediately retaliated by picking berries just short of being fully ripe and letting them turn redder in a bowl in the kitchen. How were they? Puny and not particularly good. Definitely nothing like the berries that a neighbor bought from the pick-your-own farm.

So what happens next?

The Brit refuses to give in. Instead he wants to strengthen his defenses. He is even threatening to build a new raised bed (figuring berries don’t really work in containers) with its own cage top, just like he has done for greens this year. There would still be that extra wrapping of deer netting.

Can we defeat the enemy?

And so the battle continues. Anyone have any special weapons they recommend?

Popsicle Radishes

The Brit decided to make a mint (from the garden) and pea (not) risotto for dinner, with greens from the garden on the side, and decided I should help with the harvest.

And what a harvest! I hadn’t paid much attention to many of the beds recently, and we’ve had quite a bit of rain recently. So when we peered over the chicken wire, we could see the tops of some Easter Egg radishes popping through the soil. We quickly picked the fattest of those, hoping the remaining ones will take the opportunity to spread out.

Melange of “Easter Egg” and “icicle” radishes

Across the bed, I spotted some oblong white ones through the leaves. When I parted the foliage, I could see these white “icicle” radishes had pushed themselves halfway above the soil. They looked more like popsicles (a word the Brit learned only last weekend, thanks to the neighbors — they’re ice lollies in Brit-speak) than icicles. So we harvested most of those. I don’t remember having had quite this size of crop in the past. Definitely super-easy to grow as long as your soil is crumbly.

Popsicles, I mean icicles.

The question was then what to do with the greens. Were they edible? A quick Google search turned up this recipe for radish leaf pesto, and into the food processor everything went. We ended up with a vivid green spread. That will be set aside for something tomorrow — grilled chicken, perhaps? or slathered on top of a slice of roasted eggplant?