Golden Gate Gardener

The Demise of Our Apple Tree

I have written before that our apple tree was struggling. In 2017 it bloomed in the fall at the same time it was ripening the crop it set in spring, a sign that it is not pleased with our climate. It must have received enough chill in summer to think it was spring. 

Our apple tree in august of 2017, with blossoms and maturing fruit. 

The blossoms were fertilized and began to form new fruits. I pulled most of it off, thinking it would not develop well over winter and would put stress on the tree to be ripening two crops at once.

 Fruit forming into fall. (I had picked most of it off, but left these to see if they would ripen. These are not ripe at all; it is a peculiarity of this unknown variety to have a red flush when it is still not ripe.

The tree had had many problems in recent years. There had been scab, which causes surface blemishes on fruit if it damages it when near maturity. However, if the fruit is infected while it is young, it develops poorly. The infected place doesn't grow, so the apple is malformed. The remedy is to spray early with a wettable sulfur spray and to get rid of as many fallen leaves as possible. (I used to gather up as many fallen leaves as I could and take them to my community garden, where there is no apple tree and the leaves are a welcome amendment.) (Scab is caused by the fungus Venturia inaequalis. Copper sprays are also sometimes suggested for it, but I avoid copper because it is toxic and will build up in soils under treated plants.)

Here are our apples with scab damage. 

The tree also suffered from damage caused by woolly apple aphid. It looks sort of like mealybug., because it covers itself with a similar fluffy white covering. It lives among the roots, especially in winter, then climbs up the trunk to feed on the very young branches. If it feeds it forms knobs on the branches and new leaves can't emerge. I fought it in two ways: One was by putting up a sticky barrier on the trunk, on a piece of tape, to keep the underground aphids from climbing up in spring. The second was by spraying any I saw on the tree with 70% rubbing alcohol in a small spray bottle. I also cut out badly damaged branches. Over they years, I reduced damage and the critters only appeared occasionally. 

The alcohol treatment is not to be found as a recommended treatment. After trying a number of substances, I found that the alcohol seemed the best. It disolves the waxy, fluffy, white coating just as it dissolves the similar covering on a mealybug. I searched the tree weekly and sprayed any I saw.

Woolly apple aphid on an apple tree. These are at the base of a leaf on a twig. 

In addition the tree sometimes showed rosy apple aphids on some of its twigs. They look like a more normal aphid than the woolly one and deform the leaves. I followed frequently given advice to cut off damaged twigs, so the aphids couldn't spread to others.

A friend who was helping me with the tree pointed out that it was planted too deeply. She could tell this because there was no flare at the bottom of the trunk, as it entered the ground. She thought tree would probably die. I left the tree in because it made a lot of good fruit. It was planted 50 or 60 years ago and pruned so badly (or not pruned) by previous owners that it took us several years to bring it back to fruiting. 

However, there were these problems, and then, in 2023, there was no crop at all and several of the branches never even leafed out. It was clear that the plant was dying. We had it removed in the summer of 2024. Before it went down, I took a few scions, in the hope of propagating the tree by grafting it onto another tree or onto a new rootstock. They were mostly not very good scions, since the tree grew very little in the previous year, but I took some short ones and some year-old stems.

A friend, Malcolm Hillan, who teaches Horticulture at City College of San Francisco, bought some rootstock that is semi-dwarfing and will resist woolly apple aphids. Six of the ten grafts we made took, and I have 3 of them. 

Here are two of the grafted trees. They don't look like much at this stage.

Malcolm says that of the three varieties he grafted, this one is the only one that did not get powdery mildew--another disease common on apple trees. But since two apple experts have been unable to tell what variety it is, this does not help others seeking a powdery mildew resistant variety.

At this stage the plants are just "whips," single stems. When they are planted in the ground (mine will go in soon) they will get a trimming to get the first branches to form low on the trunk. The ones I don't plant right away will go into larger pots. 

Meanwhile, the stump, which the tree remover left long so it could be more easily pried out, developed, in January, after a rain, a hearty ring of mushrooms, which seem to be those of Armellaria, or honey mushroom, named for their color, not their flavor, though they are indeed edible if well cooked (though said not to be particularly good--I didn't try them). Armillaria mellea, also known as oak root fungus, infects most broad-leaved trees and will even grow on buried pieces of wood. It attaches weakened trees in particular.

 The ring of Armillaria mushrooms around the apple tree stump was big and hearty.

I picked one to see the underside and the stem. There are about 10 species of this fungus. The most common, A. melea, has the annulus (ring) on the stem--like this one, which is most likely that species. 

Well, I guess we know what, in the end, killed the tree, especially since the arborist said there was evidence of fungal rot on the trunk at ground level. The fungus mycelium, the body of the fungus plant can grow to 10 feet long, so I think I will plant the grafted apple on the other side of the garden, though the fungus is not likely to be lethal to healthier trees. 

I will try to post the planting and progress of our new tree.

New Zealand Spinach Lasagne Recipe

Last night we had a party at which we served, among other things, a spinach lasagne made with New Zealand Spinach. People enjoyed it, as have we and those with whom we shared it, when I have made it before. I thought I had put the recipe on this blog, but it looks like I did not. So I will try to do so now, though the only pictures I have so far are of New Zealand spinach. I usually make a half recipe, which makes enough for 4-6 servings, but you can make a full one easily. Just double everything (use two jars of tomato-based pasta sauce) and use a big baking pan. One egg will still work in the ricotta mix whether doubled or not. You may have to cook a full recipe up to 10 minutes longer.

Here is a photo of New Zealand spinach for those to whom it is unfamiliar:

The plant grows wild just above the beach in San Francisco, teaching us two important facts about it: 1. That it is able to grow in areas with a cold, windy, often foggy, and dry summer.  and 2. That it is a rampant grower, weedy, in fact.  

Happily, this plant can also tolerate heat, so it can be grown inland as well. and it is a much more succulent, bigger-leaved plant when it is grown in richer soil and with regular water.

The plants seems to consist of single long leafy stems, though when you take off a tip, to eat it, new shoots will form along the original stem, especially if it is growing horizontally or vertically, and stems will often climb upward, reaching through a trellis or over another plant, or over other NZ spinach plants, then hang downward at their tips. It blooms as it grows, with small yellowish flowers, and forms, first soft, green, immature then, deep brown, mature, hard seeds in leaf joints farther back on the stems. (These fall as soon as they are ripe, and reveal where they fell with new seedlings. You can basically cut off and discard some of the stems if they get in the way and pull extra seedlings and let the plant have space you don't need.)

To harvest the plant, I break off leafy stem tips, 3 -4 inches long. above the place where seeds begin to harden. (It is fine to have immature, green seeds on the tips you pinch off.) There will be up to about a half-dozen leaves on your harvested tips. You will need 30 or 35 of these tips to make a half-recipe of lasagne, twice as many to make a full recipe. 

To make  a half recipe of NZ spinach lasagne:

Set the oven at 400 degrees F. 

You will need:

A Tablespoon of olive oil or a little no-stick spray oil

Lasagne noodles (hard no-boil are fine, though you may need to parboil some of them so you can cut them.) You will need 6-8 noodles for a half recipe, depending on the shape of your casserole.

A jar or can of tomato pasta sauce, 2-3 cups (read the label so you can avoid ones with high fructose corn syrup in them.)

About 1 1/2 cups of steamed New Zealand spinach--wash it and cut each tip into about 3 pieces. It steams fast--in 5-10 minutes. Cool it before you use it in the recipe.

A pound (or a bit less if the container you find is a bit smaller) of low-fat ricotta cheese

An egg--or, if you have an egg substitute product with the cholesterol removed, use 2 Tablespoons of that

3/4 to 1 cup of coarsely shredded part-skim mozzarella cheese

1 cup and a little more Parmesan cheese

One fourth to one half teaspoon of ground nutmeg. 

Directions:

1. In a big bowl, mix the ricotta with the egg, most of the mozzarella, and most of the parmesan, and the NZ Spinach, leaving a bit of mozzarella and parmesan for putting on top.

      2. Grease a baking dish.  The one I use is about 8 x 10" (inside measure) and about 3"inches            deep. It is important that it be deep, because you are going to put several layers in it. 

      3. Add a bit of pasta sauce to the bottom of the dish and spread it in a thin layer. Put a layer of lasagne noodles on top. My pan uses almost 2 noodles per layer (1 full noodle, with a half-noodle wide strip beside it, and a shorter strip of half-wide noodle at the end. (To cut the noodles, if they are the uncooked, no-boil kind, soften them for about 2 minutes in lightly boiling water, lift them out with tongs, put them on a cutting board and cut them with a knife or kitchen scissors. Put them in the boiling water one at a time to avoid noodles sticking together.) 

      4. Now that you have set the number of noodles you will need for each layer, make 3 layers as follows. noodles, a thin layer of pasta sauce, 1/3 of the ricotta/spinach mixture, 1/3 of the mozzarella,  a thin layer of pasta sauce. On the top, sprinkle a little shredded mozzarella and a little Parmesan. (Be especialy careful to not use too much ricotta filling or tomato sauce at a time so you have enough of them.)

Bake about 35 minutes. You want it to be bubbling, with the cheese on top melted and browning a little. 

You can refrigerate the lasagne, if covered well, for 3 days, or you can wrap it tightly and freeze it for a couple of weeks, then thaw it and heat it through. 

 

Carrots Are Worth the Challenge

I grew carrots again this year. They are a bit of a challenge because it is best to sow them directly in the garden and they are slow to start. The seedlings will not appear for at least two weeks, and if the weather is cold, they may take longer. The seeds are small, so you will plant them not too deeply, maybe 1/4 inch below the surface, or at most 1/2 inch. Because soil dries from the surface first, you will need to keep the moisture topped off until the seedlings are well up. You can't just walk away and return to water every few days and expect to see seedlings in a week. For carrots you need to remember to water lightly (briefly) every day or two for weeks. And weed every couple of days too, since the weeds will grow much faster than the carrots and compete with them.

These carrot seedlings are about a month and a half old. There are a few weeds, but there would have been many more had I not been weeding a lot.

Once they are up, carrot seedlings start out tiny and grow slowly. The roots probably reach a little deeper into the soil than the shoots do into the air, but they are still shallow, so you still have to pay attention to the frequency of your light watering to be sure that the roots are able to get water. 

You want thick roots, so you don't want carrots to grow too close together. Try to sow the seed a half inch to an inch apart. Then, when the plants are well up, thin any that are growing too close together--cheek and jowl, that is. (The joke is that if you sow them too far apart, only some seeds will germinate leaving you with not enough carrots, whereas if you sow the seed close together, they will all come up.) You can thin out the smallest plants, or you can wait and take out the bigger ones when they are big enough to offer a bite to eat. (The first plan will get you mature carrots faster.) 

When the carrots are grown, the leaves are a foot and a half tall and the plants will seem so sturdy that you will wonder that they could ever have been so small. Carrots take about 3 months to mature, so you can make the guess that they will be ready then. Brush away the surface soil and look at the top of the carrot to judge its size. In general, a wide top to the root will mean a mature carrot.

 

But there will always be a bit of guesswork in estimating carrot size, and some will always get bigger than others.

(Our instinct says to stick the smaller ones back in the ground where maybe they will grow bigger, but this won't work. Although a carrot root is fat and sturdy, it was, before you pulled it, attached to many tiny roots that extended widely and deeply. Of course they all broke off when you pulled the carrot,  and it is unlikely to grow more fast enough to help  it grow much, so you may as well eat it.)

This image of carrot roots is from the book Roots Demystified  by Robert Kourick. He obtained it from Root Development of Vegetable Crops, by John Weaver and William Brumer. The squares in the grid equal 1 square foot.

When you pull out a carrot, it is a kindness to the remaining carrots to push soil gently against them, if they were exposed by the hole you made.  This helps the remaining carrots retain moisture. 

For many years, I grew carrots in a backyard bed that emerged from the shade of the house only in early April. I sowed the seed in mid-February, so the seed germinated, and the very young seedlings grew, in the shade. Then, when the house shadow got shorter, they were in sunlight, and they grew faster. They were ready to harvest by mid-June. But then, two years ago, tunneling rats ate my crop. All of it. (I think they missed one carrot in the back corner of the bed.) They are tunneling rats, Norway rats, or, least politely, but probably most accurately, sewer rats. I caught 7 of them in traps that summer--a gruesome but needed effort--but I knew that I could only guarantee a carrot harvest by excluding the rats.

Last spring, I had that bed lined with hardware cloth (which isn't cloth, really but tough wire mesh). Now rats can't get in. But I had plans to transplant some other crops into that bed, so I didn't grow carrots there last spring.

Later in the summer, I had our apple tree removed--sad, but necessary, as it had root rot. (I grafted it onto new rootstock. More on this later.) Then I had a second bed, the one the tree had shaded. lined against rats too. I sowed carrot seed there in early August. I hoped carrots would mature before that bed went into shade in mid-November. They did! I know that carrots that go into shade before they are mature do not develop well. If they are nearly mature, the lower part of the roots will stay narrow and will be a paler color than the tops. But the ones I grew were fat and orange right to the tips.

This is what happened the year I planted carrots too late and they went into shade before they had a chance to fill out. 

The carrots I grew this year were shorter varieties, which just happened to be the kind I found locally to buy. (In general, grow shorter varieties if you are growing them in pots or in clay or very rocky soil.) I have sandy loam, so I probably could have grown longer carrots if I had bought them. I have rocks in my soil though, and these will stunt or split carrots, so I dig around under where I plan to plant the seeds and take out rocks I find there as a precaution. As I expected the bed to go into shade at about the time the carrots matured, it is probably just as well they were short--less chance of long, pale tips.

Next February, I will be back to my older practice of sowing seeds in the bed that is in shade then. I am looking forward to a bountiful carrot crop next summer.

P.S. Nurseries have been selling carrot plants recently. These will probably grow, but I doubt that they will form good roots. I haven't tried to grow them yet. I will report when I do.. I think your best bet is to learn to grow them from seed  sown directly in your garden.

Photos won't load--more soon

I am unable to load photos. New post in the works as soon as I am able to do so.

Sweet Lemon Braised Fennel

I grow Florence fennel, from one of the varieties of fennel that produce large, white, aboveground bulbs (if the plants get good soil, plenty of water, and are adequately spaced in a garden). I wrote about this crop a couple of days ago, with photos. Here is a recipe that turns the anisy-flavored raw vegetable into a sweet, mild, not-anisy at all, cooked vegetable. Cooked fennel has its own unique flavor. I encourage you to try it.

Sweet Lemon Braised Fennel

one large fennel bulb (or up to 4 small ones)        Juice of 1/2 lemon--or more, to taste

3 Tablespoons of butter or margarine                    salt and pepper if desired

1 Tablespoon olive oil                                                 1/3 cup chicken or vegetarian broth or water

1/2 teaspoon granulated sugar

    1. Trim root and leaves from the bulb(s), leaving only the fat, white leaf bases. Quarter the         bulb(s) though the root end, or, if large, cut in 8ths. If your bulb is huge, as mine was, cut so   that no slice is thicker than about 5/8 inch at the outside edge. Try to get some of the core on each piece, so that the leaf bases remain attached, but if some bits get connected, save these and use them too. Rinse any dirt from the base of the bulb as you go, and trim dirt off of a good piece, if you can't wash it off.

The usable pieces are in the rear, in the front on the board, are mainly leaves, stems, etc. that will be discarded.

          2. In a large skillet (cast iron is good), melt the butter or margarine together with the olive oil, over medium heat. Add the fennel pieces and brown them nicely on both sides.  (You may have to do it in stages, a skilletful at a time if you have a lot. Put browned pieces on a paper towel on a plate while you brown some more.) You may have to add a little more butter and oil if you are cooking several batches of fennel. Reduce the heat to medium low, return any pieces you have set aside, and sprinkle them, in the skillet with the sugar and lemon juice. Season with salt and pepper if you desire. Turn with a spatula, gently, once or twice to mix the ingredients, and then continue to sauté until the fennel is glazed and brown.

Fennel slices in the skillet at the start of the browning process.

    3. Add the broth or water and braise, tightly covered, for 10 minutes, adding more broth if needed. (If you are not limiting salt, you can use bullion.) When the fennel is tender, but not falling apart, transfer it to a serving dish with a slotted spoon.

Braised fennel in the skillet ready to serve. 

    If you like, add another half cup of broth, more lemon juice, and  a little more butter, whisk it together and serve it over the fennel. Note: I have never tried this, but it was in the original recipe, so I offer it for you to try.       

Growing Florence Fennel

Florence fennel is a domestic plant that forms a fat, white aboveground bulb. It is not known in much of the American nation because it needs a long, cool season in which to grow, and this is unavailable in most U..S. microclimates. However, the cool climate near the Pacific coast provides just what the plant needs. It is a high value crop that uses the fall/winter season, when rainfall is likely to help with water needs as fall progresses. I have been growing this crop for several years and encourage you to try it. 

The best time to grow Florence fennel is in late summer, so that it matures into and winter. Most varieties will bolt (flower) if you plant them in spring. 

This is a seedling of the Florence fennel variety 'Prelude,' photographed on September 6. I planted the seed on August 4.  Next week I will harden off the seedlings and the following week, I will plant them in my garden. It is important not to leave seedlings in too small a pot for too long, as they have a tap root, and you don't want the tap root to be malformed by pushing against the bottom of the pot. (You can sow the seeds directly in the garden as well, but I only get to my community garden once a week, so I want to transplant relatively large seedlings rather than starting from seed when possible, though I may have to water twice a week at first, even so.)

There are varieties said to be able to form bulbs, rather than bolting to flower when planted in spring. (That is, they will grow upward, into flower stems, rather than forming a good bulb.) I have not tried them all. The one I did try, 'Perfection' formed smaller bulbs than my summer-planted 'Prelude'. I will need more trials to see how others perform when spring-planted. Others that are said to form bulbs from a spring planting are 'Finale', 'Zefa Fino' and 'Selma Fino'. 

In any case, 'Prelude' has made very fat bulbs for me, wider than tall. Some varieties form bulbs that are a tad taller than wide. Harvest when the bulb is 3-5 inches across, but mature size will vary depending on the variety you are growing, and you will learn the best size for the one you are growing. I harvest them one at a time, eating each before I remove the next one, so they get a little bigger as I go along. The plants are very patient in winter, not bolting as I eat them one a period of a month or two.

Just be sure you have nice rich, well-drained soil and water it deeply whenever the top inch or so is dry. Also, plant seedlings at least 6 inches apart, and 8-10 inches apart is preferable. 

Here is a photo of a mature fennel bulb. Note that it is not very near to other plants, so it can mature well.

Raw fennel is used in many sophisticated salads, to which it adds a anise or licorice flavor. Cooked, is has a mild. sweet. unique flavor, not at all anisy. I will post soon with a couple of recipes for using cooked fennel. If you dislike raw fennel I strongly suggest that you try it cooked in a couple of dishes. 

 

Flower Border--Arugula in Bloom

Ah spring. I am just posting to show a photo I took of a spring border that happened in my backyard garden. I grew arugula in a bed I had lined with hardware cloth. After I ate arugula in salad, with pasta, and on pizza all winter, it bloomed. (And I have even been eating the arugula flowers in salads.) I have the pericallis (the purple daisy) because I don't pull all of it out when its seedlings appear. The pericallis and arugula flowers together made a handsome border, the arugula in the bed and the pericallis at the foot of the broken concrete retaining wall that defines the bed, along the decomposed granite path next to the bed. I found that the stems of arugula blossoms are a good cut flower as long as they still have buds at the top, lasting nearly a week. I used them in mixed bouquets, but not with the pericallis, which doesn't last very long. Still, I find the pericallis splendid in my garden in April and May. 

The pericallis, which you may know as cineraria, is the same as the short blooming plants that florists sell in pots. It reverts to a taller plant when it self-sows in the garden. It's a hybrid of several similar plants that are all native to the Canary Islands, off the NW coast of Africa. It is perennial here in San Francisco, which is similar to the foggy, mild winter, low rainfall, native habitat of several of the species that created the hybrid. (It would be unhappy where summers are hot, and would not thrive where winters are very cold.) It will always bloom in a range of colors and bicolors, from white to blue purple, generally with many magenta-flowered plants. I have several white ones, one of which has bloomed three years in a row just by a step into my patio. If you have pericallis in your garden, and you want to introduce a wider variety of colors, buy a couple of florists' potted cinerarias with interesting colors and let them form seeds in your garden. Many people especially like ones with blue purple flowers (see photo). I wish there was a way to predict flower color from a seedling, but if there is, I haven't discovered it.

Blue-purple pericallis flowers

The arugula and the pericallis are both almost done blooming now by late June. I am letting the arugula seed fall in the bed and cutting back the pericallis. I will probably plant carrots where the arugula is growing, and will eat the arugula seedlings I pull from the bed in summer.

 Oh, did you notice the white foxglove at the end of the border, by the fence. I moved several foxglove seedlings there last summer. I didn't know what color the flowers would be, but I did let seed drop from a white one last year, so I was hoping some would be white. It's a biennial, so the plants that are small now will bloom next spring. I cut the stems of most of my foxgloves when they finish blooming, before seed can ripen since each plant drops hundreds of seeds and I have plenty of seedlings. 

The strappy leaves in the left foreground are of Naked Lady plants, Amaryllis belladonna. Those leaves are gone now. They yellowed and dried up. Now there will be a bare spot there until the "naked" flower stems form in August or September. 

Try "Gigante" White Runner Beans

For several years I have been growing Gigante beans. These are big white beans that are really runner beans.. Like Scarlet Runner Beans, they are often perennial in the Bay Area. Mine come back year after year. Right now, in mid May, I have leaves and blossoms on plants that have come back from living roots and some living vines. 

As you can see, the blossoms are white, or pale yellow, instead of red. Not as decorative, I suppose, but still pretty, and hummingbirds may prefer red, they will feed at other colors. I would not have blossoms this early on plants growing from seed, though. (Sometimes the plants that survived from last year even bloom in April, but this year March was so cold that garden plants slowed down a bit.) 

So why bother with a runner bean that doesn't have red flowers? Because the dry beans are so delicious and useful. They are larger than those of red runner bean.  The name "Gigante" is the one they are known by in Europe. In Greece they are cooked and then marinated. You can do this yourself, for a delicious treat that is pricy to purchase (Maybe $5.99 a pound.) (I will add a recipe at the end of this post.)

I have also used the beans instead of favas in traditional bean/vegetable soups, such as the ones in Clifford Wright's book The Best Soups in the World, such as Vegetable Soup (p. 154) or Sicilian Beans and Greens Soup (p. 152). In these soups, the large fava beans (double-peeled)  are backed up with an equal volume of small white beans, so that one has beans in the soup between bites that contain the large beans. 

Incidentally, you can also eat the young pods or Gigante white runner beans, which, like those of scarlet runner beans have a fine beans flavor. However you do have to catch the pods when they are very young, since once the beans form, the pods become tough.( Also, a plant that is forming beans will make fewer new pods.)

Marinated Gigante (White Runner) Beans © Pam Peirce 2023

1 cup dried gigante Beans—soaked             3 Tbsp finely chopped parsley

    and cooked until just tender                       2 Tbsp finely chopped sundried tomatoes

1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil                          (If they are very dry, soak in water and drain, then chop.)

¼ cup Kalamata olives, chopped finely       2 tsp white wine vinegar

2 Tbsp shallot, finely diced                            1 tsp lemon juice

                        Chunks or crumbles of feta cheese (optional)

 

Drain the cooked beans and add the other ingredients. Put in a container with a tight cover and let the contents marinate at least 3 hours or overnight. Refrigerate them if you aren’t serving them right away. 

Serve them as an appetizer or just put a small bowl on the table during a meal to be shared as diners eat the meal.

Note that the ingredients in this recipe are flexible. If you lack one, just leave it out. 

Resource: Each winter I leave a few Gigante Beans at the San Francisco Potrero and Portola Branch Libraries, which have seed libraries. You really only need one or two plants for a few cups of harvested beans. Tell me (in a comment) how they turn out if you take some.)

 

Minestrone alla Genovese with New Zealand Spinach

In my last post, I gave a recipe for frittata that included New Zealand spinach. I have continued to look for new ways to use the plentiful New Zealand spinach that grows in my garden. Here is my most recent discovery. First, though, here is a photo of the plant itself. To harvest, I break off and use the top 4 or 5 inches of as many stems as I need to make the amount of spinach I need.

New Zealand Spinach growing in a San Francisco Garden in November.  

It is tolerant of both cold weather and hot weather. 

Minestrone Genoa Style with New Zealand Spinach

I started with a recipe for Minestrone Genovese on page 27 of the book The Pleasures of Italian Cooking, by Romeo Salta.(It is the cookbook that introduced American diners to Northern Italian cuisine.) I chose this recipe because I had harvested a very large leek and had some dried beans of various kinds and plenty of New Zealand spinach. The recipe called for kidney beans and common spinach, but I substituted. It also called for macaroni and for a little diced bacon, but I didn’t want to use them and the soup was delicious without either.

2 Tablespoons olive oil                                   2 Quarts of water or stock

1 Cup grated carrot                                        3 Cups of cooked beans

1 Cup chopped onion                                         (I used Christmas limas)

2 leeks (white and light                                   1 teaspoon salt

   green parts) sliced                                       Black pepper (up to 1/2 teaspoon)

2 Cups diced potatoes                                    3 Tablespoons minced fresh parsley

2 Cups chopped New Zealand spinach           1/2 teaspoon basil (2 teaspoons fresh)

2 cloves of garlic, minced

Heat the olive oil in a skillet and cook the carrot, onions, leeks, potatoes, and spinach in it for five minutes. In a pot mix the water or stock, beans, salt and pepper and cook over low heat for one hour. In an electric blender, puree the parsley, basil, and garlic. Add this to the soup. Cook about 20 minutes longer. Serve with grated Pecorino or Parmesan cheese.

I used vegetable stock I had made by cooking the leek tops and cutting celery stems and leaves with a bay leaf and some thyme, then straining out the solids and keeping the stock.

Beans just about double in size when you cook them—maybe a little bit more. To reduce the gassiness they can cause, either soak in a lot of water overnight drain them in the morning, add fresh water and cook them, or boil unsoaked beans briefly in a lot of water, drain them, and then cook them in fresh water.

New Zealand Spinach in a Frittata--Recipe

Frittata Made with New Zealand Spinach

Adapted from Beyond the Moon Cookbook by Ginny Callan

This is nice as a dish for breakfast or as a main dish for supper. If you have grown New Zealand spinach, you know it can produce quite abundantly and that recipes using it are rather rare. This frittata is a delicious use for it.  (It can also be made with regular spinach, but don't be surprised if diners like this version better.)

 

Vegetables:

2 Tablespoons of Olive Oil—or use no-stick spray oil

½ cup chopped onion

2 cups coarsely chopped New Zealand spinach

 (young stem tips--about 4” long—and the leaves that are on them)

½ teaspoon dried thyme or oregano

About ¾ cup chopped tomato (fresh or use canned petite diced, drained)

1/8 teaspoon salt

 

Eggs:

4 large eggs or 1 cup Reddi-egg

1/8 teaspoon salt

A shake or two of pepper

 

Cheese:

1 cup grated cheese (sharp cheddar is good)

 

Sauté onion in oil until it is soft—about 5 minutes. Stir in the New Zealand spinach and the thyme or oregano. Sauté about 3 minutes more, until spinach is just tender. Remove the skillet from the heat and stir in the tomatoes. Drain if it is watery, stir in salt.

 

Beat the eggs with the salt and pepper. Use no-stick spray in an ovenproof skillet or in ramekins, and then pour the eggs into it or them. Cook over low/moderate heat on the stovetop until the eggs start to set—4-5 minutes. Remove from the heat. Add well-mixed vegetables to the top, being careful to spoon them evenly over the surface of the eggs.

Here the vegetables have been spread over the partially cooked eggs,  in 2 ramikens,

Top with shredded cheese. Broil in an oven or toaster oven, setting the frittata about 3 inches from the heat, until the eggs have solidified, and the cheese is browned. About 4-5 minutes.

The frittata has been broiled. Half has been removed to a plate and eaten. 

If you used a skillet, slice the frittata into wedges.

This photo shows a double batch, made in a skillet to serve 6 people for brunch.

Serve warm.

For dinner, serve with sliced oven-roasted potatoes and a green salad.