It’s fall. By September, my potted tomato plant had labored and brought forth its last little tomato. The squash plant was completely worn out. The wee zucchinis it produced withered in the pot before they were the size of my thumb. I’ve pulled out the plants and stored the pots and soil for next spring.
Down in the bigger garden, I’ve pulled up all the tomato plants that had withered and turned brown. One remains, with three green and one orange tomato on it. But it grows cold. Its days are numbered. I still hope they’ll mature on the vine. But I may have to pick them green and put them in a little brown paper bag to gas themselves into red. They’ll never taste the same.
I’ve also p ulled up the string bean plants and the rogue butternut squash that produced such a delight ful surprise: two king-size squashes that have been delectable. One is still sitting on my kitchen counter. It will last a long time.
Here’s what I like to do with winter squash.
I cut off a chunk [enough for one or two or howevfer many]. Zap it in the microwave for 5 to 6 minutes [more of it's a big chunk]–until it’s nice and soft. Pour some honey on it. Slice up a pear half and put it on top, then zap again for a minute or so. It’s quick, it’s ultra-easy and it’s great with a chicken or meat dish–or as part of a vegetable feast.




My mint, now in its fifth year of production, is threatening to move right in and overwhelm its neighbors–chive and parsley. Sometimes I have to pull it out by its new roots. But when it starts growing big and tall, I take a shears to it. What I don’t use, I pop into a pretty glass and set it out as I would a bouquet of flowers. The mint smells and looks crisp and clean. It freshens up the kitchen and the bathroom as well.
My mint has returned in full force. It’s the herb that keeps giving. A few years ago, when I asked a friend for a cutting, he gave me one. When I looked at him as if he were being a bit ungenerous with the mint, he warned me: put this in the ground, then stand back. Indeed. It is threatening to take over the whole herb garden. But it is a key ingredient for a tabouleh recipe I got from a Lebanese friend. Frankly, I can’t get enough of the stuff.