((Dear Reader,

This is a garden and kitchen entry. Scroll down for Jean’s “non-recipe” for her “chicken two-potato hash”–perfect for Halloween!))

Chris:

The Mexican bush sage grows to its fullest and most exquisite this time of year. The deep pinky-purple flower clusters draw honeybees and the mammoth black carpenter bees as if it were spring. And this year, as the rainy season has yet to appear and as the daily temps move delightfully from the high 40s before dawn to 80 in mid afternoon, it’s as if we are living in a comfortable, blue-sky, perfect spring.  Enjoy the video above and the one below.

A rain-lover like me tends to see oncoming drought where others will just revel in the sunny, cool comfort. So the day after day of bees happy in the soft, fragrant petals reminds me to count my blessings. Last year at this time, I was writing about the Napa-Sonoma wildfires devastating Santa Rosa. I was reassuring our friends from across the country that the fires would not reach us, even while I smelled the sour smoke borne on the tricky winds and peered through the hazy air.

I count my blessings especially this fall, when I’m writing back to our friends and relatives in the Southeast to wish them deliverance from the hurricanes destroying coastal towns and flooding once again lands still recovering from the storms that have come with increasing power and frequency the past few years.

Along with the bees are the birds in our bit of paradise. Once in a while, I will spot a trifecta in a bit of bush sage, when the honeybees, a carpenter bee, and one of our Anna’s hummingbirds will share the flowers. So far, I’ve been camera-less at these rare moments. Not so rare is how our several pairs of Eurasian collared doves, an annual presence in our neighborhood, have come to be more and more at home in our garden. Earlier this week, I snapped one pecking on the veranda, then spotted one drinking from the birdbath. Then today, Jean whispered that one was looking toward her from the peach tree. Our friend kindly waited while I retrieved the camera–and then posed  while I gathered a closeup.

But what about new planting in an as-yet rainless fall? In my previous entry, “Between the Seasons,” I speculated about what I would be putting into the ground this fall:

“What will it be this year? Definitely the hearty, spicy arugula and the sweet, buttery bibb lettuce. Jean wants the bold, richly-colored chard again, and she’ll have it. Onions? Of course. Beets? I love the colors of the leaves and the mystery of what lurks beneath the soil. Ah, yes: broccoli–the promise of those plump, delicious heads and crunchy stems.”

So far, only two of these have gone in: the six chard plants (two weeks ago) and five stir-fry variety broccoli plants (one week). Only half of the chard plants are in the ground–the other half are in pots, experimentally. So far, they are doing great. I’ll transplant them into the soil once we’ve had some moisture from the sky.  Meanwhile, the broccolis are in one of the raised beds and doing nicely.

As long as the weather stays warm and we have no rain, I’ll resist planting more of the winter crops. Most do better here when the weather cools.

Oranges, Lemons, and…Peppers!

As every year, the navel orange tree (below, left) and the meyer lemon are wealthy in fruit, which is ripening for the harvest that will begin in December. In fact, the persistent warm daytime temps have moved them along faster than usual, and some of the lemons are ready to pick (we’ve actually tried one already–sour and juicy!).

Our one veggie from the summer that is still in the ground is this year’s longevity champ producer, the mild green pepper, which in its big pot keeps putting out white flowers that turn into fruit. As I write, there are six peppers at various stages of growth–with several more tiny green marbles emerging from beneath the white flowers. Attribute this ongoing production to the daytime temps that keep our fall more like spring.

Peppers in the Kitchen (AKA Making Halloween Hash)

Jean:

This is really about green peppers and potatoes in the kitchen.   As a half-Irish girl, I’m likely to put potatoes somewhere in the meal.  My all-Irish mother ate potatoes in some form nearly every day of her life, and she taught me to cook them in many different forms.  Nothing I make tastes like hers, including her mashed potatoes and potato salads, and that’s okay.  I love them in almost any form, and so does Chris, even though he doesn’t grow them in the garden.

My mother’s grandfather did, though.  He fled Ireland when he was about age 18, reportedly after participating in a small rebellion against British rule around 1848.  All the details of his life are somewhat foggy because he died when my grandfather was just a child, but I do know he eventually settled in Kansas after the Civil War and grew potatoes on a small patch of land.  He married an Irish woman who had barely escaped the potato famine of the 1840s.   Somehow their six sons did fine, however, with my grandfather attending Georgetown Law School at the beginning of the 20th century.  Potatoes were only for eating at a nice dining table after that.

Anyway, when I see potatoes and peppers, like we had in the kitchen this week, I think hash.  I love the freshness, crunch, and color that peppers add to a hash.  Besides our peppers from the garden, we also had some young Idaho potatoes with thin skins and very creamy flesh.  I had seen a recipe for sweet potato hash that used a lot of smoked paprika and cayenne pepper, which I already had in my pantry. So I texted Chris, who was out at the market, to buy a large sweet potato. I started cubing the two kinds of potatoes and also chopped onions and green peppers for the hash I was now imagining.  I threw them all carelessly into a large skillet with a small amount of  water and some salt and pepper, and started frying them.

Meanwhile, I remembered another recipe I had seen recently that involved carmelizing ketchup.  I’m sorry, but I love ketchup.  I may have said previously that my daughter and I “argue” about this because she puts it down, but I maintain it has a complex and interesting flavor or combination thereof.  The recipe I wanted to try (seen in my New York Times recipe feed, which includes a lot of “non-recipe” recipes that can be thrown together with a minimum of fuss) involved cutting small chunks of chicken and cooking them in a cup or two of ketchup until the ketchup thickened and browned and the chicken pieces were cooked through.   I worked on this in a separate small skillet while turning the hash, and finally threw the ketchup chicken (I love the sound of that, the two ch- sounds) into the hash when the vegetables were sufficiently soft.

Chris threw some fresh grape tomatoes and pepper chunks on top for color when I was finished, and we dug in.  It was surprisingly yummy.  He claimed the predominant taste was ketchup, but when I claimed it was the smoked paprika, he admitted he could taste the smoke.  He had thought perhaps it was chipotle, which you could totally add to this because chipotle tastes great with sweet potatoes.  I think there was enough spice with the ones I used, but if you like more heat, you could add any type of hot red sauce you prefer. By the way, seasoned chefs insist that paprika goes stale quickly and you should buy more practically every time you use it.  I don’t subscribe to that theory, but if you do, this “recipe” (or “non-“) is a good way to use a lot of it quickly.

We warmed up some of the leftovers a day or two later, and they still warmed our mouths, stomachs, and hearts. In fact, we have a bit left for Halloween, which is now upon us! The orange color and spicy tang are perfect for the celebration.