Growing Basil in a Tricky Climate…and a Pesto Recipe!

 By the fourth week of August, when nighttime temperatures are dipping down into the 40s, my basil generally looks as worn out as an old shoe. The plants have dropped a lot of leaves, and the ones that remain are a pale lime green and dotted with brown spots. Plus the basil has gone to flower—which means the plant is putting its energy into flowers instead of flavor.

Not this year.

Keep in mind that growing this delicate herb at Berryridge Farm has always been pretty high-maintenance. Around early June, I'll buy basil in 4-inch (Baby bear) pots, when the days are finally warm enough for the plants to survive. I’ll transplant the basil babies into 1/2 gallon (Mama bear) pots, then bring the plants indoors at night, until things warm up overall. Say, early to mid-July.

End-of-season basil in middle-sized pots

By then, the plants are really root-bound. So I transplant the basil again, either in large pots (Papa bear-size) or plant them directly into the south-facing bed next to our foundation. It’s the hottest spot in the yard. 

But despite all this strategic basil relocation, my plants’ heyday of vibrant green and robust growth generally doesn’t last more than 3 or 4 weeks.

This summer, while I was busy with extra family responsibilities and forced to let go of my garden, I didn't have time to do the 2^nd round of transplanting (into the Papa bear pots). Plus we've had a lot of big temperature fluctuations the last couple of months, starting with that awful heat dome. But I had always assumed basil needed as much heat and sun as you could give it.

With all that direct sun, I also had to water the pots nearly every day.

For our hot days this summer, I didn’t want to worry about watering and getting my basil pots in the shade at a moment’s notice. So I kept the basil in the Mama bear pots and parked them under our grape arbor, a spot that gets morning sun and afternoon shade. The grapevines give the basil nighttime protection from the cold, and the gravel path right next to the arbor must have ensured the things didn’t get too chilly at the ground level. 

Because surprisingly enough, the basil has thrived!

And apparently, the plants haven't gotten too root-bound. Still, last night, with September around the corner, I knew my basil’s days were numbered. So it was time for Pesto Pasta!

A few years back, I wrote a post about making pesto—without a food processor. (For easy access, here's my method) This time, all I had to do was set aside an hour or so for lots of chopping! The timing was perfect. Besides my basil being great shape, I had harvested my garlic crop just weeks ago, and it had cured up beautifully. The garlic was still mild, with a lovely crispness when you cut into it.

The pesto I’d made before was so garlicky that, while it was delicious, for the next 2 days, all I could taste was garlic. This time, I cut up half of a large clove of garlic and let it sit overnight in a small amount of apple cider vinegar, to mellow overnight.

Just-rinsed basil leaves before chopping

For optimal freshness, just before starting dinner I picked 2 generous handfuls of basil. Once I’d pulled
off the leaves and chopped them up, I ended up with about 1 cup of basil.

To the bowl, I added 1 cup of finely chopped walnuts. Then 2 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil, and mixed it vigorously.

I boiled about ½ pound of spaghetti, and after draining, added another 3 tablespoons of olive oil. Then I mixed in the pesto.

I like Dubliner cheese, a somewhat strong cheddar-type, and topped my portion with a small amount. John likes LOTS of cheese, and he topped his with a mix of freshly-grated parmesan and medium Cheddar.

My pesto wasn’t quite a total success. I’d been too conservative with the garlic—I should have used an entire clove, if not 2 cloves. Also, the garlic had only needed mellowing in the vinegar for an hour or so, not a whole day. I could have used a lot more olive oil too, since the pesto pasta wasn’t all that rich. Still, it was yummy.

John, however, raved about his pasta. For a side, he sautéed some zucchini from the garden with onion—then topped that with more cheese too. It just goes to show that cheese improves just about anything!

Recipe for an Easy Blueberry Dessert

Blueberry coffeecake with a sweet crumb topping

If you’ve got extra blueberries on hand, and looking for a fun and somewhat healthy sweet, here’s one to try: “Huckle Buckle”!

It’s called “Huckle” because the recipe was originally created for wild huckleberries, and “Buckle” is sort of like a coffeecake. After we planted 3 huckleberry shrubs at our place, I would bake this every summer.

Years ago, when the shrubs started bearing, I would spend at least a couple of hours picking 2 cups of berries for this recipe. 

Now the bushes are huge, with tons of berries! But since August is a crazy busy month of harvesting and putting up, I stopped picking the huckleberries altogether, and John and I are happy to leave them for the birds.

Blueberries are a tasty and super-healthy alternative to huckleberries, and I modified the recipe to account for the sweeter blueberries. Here’s the original recipe, which I found years ago in the newspaper (from the Better Homes and Gardens New Cookbook). The texture is similar to shortcake, and please note: the divided ingredients are for the crumb topping.

¾ cup butter (divided)

1 ¼ cup sugar (divided)

1 large egg

2 ½ cups flour (divided)

2 ½ teaspoons baking powder

¼ teaspoon salt

½ cup milk

2 cups wild huckleberries

½ teaspoon cinnamon

But since I like a richer, moister texture, I changed a few things, including adding an extra egg. I’ll often add a bit of plain yogurt to add moisture, and substitute a little baking soda for some of the baking powder. For my take, I’ve separated out the crumb topping ingredients:

For the cake:

1/4 cup butter (1/2 stick)

¼ cup oil (I use extra virgin olive oil since that’s all we generally have around. Some folks feel olive oil has too strong a flavor for baked goods, but we like it.)

½ cup + 1 or 2 tablespoons sugar

2 eggs

2 cups flour (I use 1 cup organic white, and 1 cup organic whole wheat pastry flour)

1 ½ teaspoons baking powder

1/4 teaspoon baking soda

¼ heaping teaspoon sea salt

1 teaspoon vanilla (I think every cake needs vanilla!)

½ cup milk ; alternatively, use a only 1 egg and add more milk and a dollop of plain yogurt

2 cups blueberries (let them dry after rinsing, or else the cake will turn out pretty soggy)

 

Cream the butter, oil and sugar, then add the eggs and beat until fluffy. Mix in the vanilla. In a separate bowl, mix the flours, baking powder and soda, and the salt. Add the dry ingredients to the creamed mixture alternatively with the milk and yogurt. Spread in a greased baking pan (The original recipe calls for an 11 x 7 pan; I use a round 10-inch glass pie pan). Top with the blueberries.

For the crumb topping:

½ cup sugar

½ cup flour

½ - 1 teaspoon cinnamon (we like cinnamon a lot)

¼ cup butter

Mix the sugar, flour and cinnamon. Cut in ¼ cup butter and combine until crumbly. Sprinkle over the berries.

Bake at 350 degrees for around 50 minutes. I generally use more berries than the recipe calls for, so my buckle takes a longer baking time—maybe closer to 1 hour. I just watch it carefully for the last 15 minutes or so!

Let it cool for about a ½ hour, if you can stand the wait… This recipe also freezes well—once you let the buckle thaw, you can warm it up in the microwave. It’s a fun taste of summertime after blueberry season is over...

My other standby and super-delicious blueberry dessert is Blueberry Torte--you can find the recipe at my Susan Colleen Browne website!

Note: Huckleberries are a local delicacy in the Pacific Northwest; shrubs have generally been abundant in the high country of the west side of the Cascade Mountains. You might find huckleberries at a farmer’s market, but if you’re not a hiker they can be hard to come by. 

Still, if you like having a bird-friendly garden and have some extra room, you might consider planting a shrub! They are drought-tolerant and do well in partial shade. For lots of tips for growing all kinds of berries, you can take a look at my free gardening ebook, Little Farm in the Garden... 

If you prefer a PDF you can read on your computer, Little Farm in the Garden is also available at my website, www.susancolleenbrowne.com !

Letting Go...In the Garden and in Life

 Thirteen days ago, in the middle of a drought and harvest time, we had a family emergency.

The garden had already been looking bedraggled. I'd been watering only the most critical crops, and between the historical heat wave in June, followed by grandkid visits, the garden was already sadly neglected. 

But when a family member desperately needed help, despite the heat and all the beds needing water, weeding and harvesting, and my blueberry crop coming in, I had no choice. I had to suddenly leave our place, putting 300 miles between me and Berryridge Farm.

In the moments of emergency, the garden was the last thing on my mind. But when the situation stabilized, everything I'd had to leave behind weighed heavily on my mind. John was home--he'd  returned after giving me a ride to look after the hens. But he had jury duty (talk about difficult timing!), and a couple of important meetings he couldn't miss. It was all he could do to collect the eggs, and keep our girls fed and watered.

With all the heat and drought, my worries about my blueberry crop were first and foremost. We'd already lost our new elderberry shrubs to the heat wave, and 3 of our rhubarb crowns looked like they were dying. I'd planted a bed of shelling peas that I hadn't had time to pick. My carrot bed was ready to harvest, but I couldn't do it before I left. 

But it was my blueberry shrubs, which I'd tended so devotedly for years, that made me sad. Would the shrubs sustain serious drought damage? Were the unpicked berries ripening, then falling to the ground, spoiled? Would we have any harvest at all?

I was stressing about the vegetable beds too. It occurred to me that in this challenging summer and growing season, we might not produce much of anything. It was a hard pill to swallow.

But...I knew I just had to let go. Let go of my food-crop routines, let go of my expectations of running a well-ordered homestead, and most of all, let go of the joy and pride I'd always taken in our garden. 

About 22 pounds in these 2 buckets

The days passed, and the family situation continued to stabilize. I was able to return home the night after last. Despite the long, strenuous days I was away, I was up early, and went into the blueberry patch first thing. And...hurrah!

I had healthy shrubs still laden with ripening berries. We'd had the very unexpected blessing of one inch of rain while I was away, and I think it saved the day. I picked berries for 4 hours straight, and got upwards of 28 pounds of healthy fruit. 

I was feeling so positive I found the energy to clean the coop, then pick the  carrots. They were indeed overgrown, but not a disaster. I harvested about 20 pounds--and a few were a LOT bigger than I'd like!

I hope these carrots aren't woody! Saucer for scale

I was looking over the rest of the garden when I found bear scat right next to our best rhubarb crown. I quickly checked the near vicinity, expecting to see broken apple trees, downed berry netting, or crushed poultry wire, then quickly told John.

He'd already discovered it. In our hurry to leave, we'd left one of our fence gates open. Fortunately, the critter must have just looked around without damaging anything, then left this calling card. Sorry guys, if it grosses you out!

Cub-size scat (I hope!)

And some things you just have to laugh about. We all drop the ball on zucchini now and then, and John discovered these monsters after his own crazy week. I generally find 1 of these every season, so 4 of them shows me 1) what a crazy summer it is, and 2) there's always room in the kitchen compost pile!

Should make good compost!

With all the family visits, I was already neglecting my writing business. And when I got the emergency phone call, I'd been within a week or 2 or publishing my new Irish novel. Yet I had to be philosophical.

The other thing (among many) that I had to let go of was posting on this blog! I was on a streak of weekly posts since early June, but missing last week was simply one more lesson in acceptance. As John would say (I'm sure I've mentioned it in my 2 homesteading memoirs), "It is what it is."

I'm still vowing to get the garden back into some semblance of order, but it'll take time. Meanwhile, I'm focusing on what I can do, doing my best, and remembering what's really important.