Hopi Black

Hooray!  The Hopi Black Beans are finally up.  It's certainly been a long wait... I'd almost given them up as a write-off.

In truth, though, it has been a late, cold Spring so far. Nights are still cold, and that also means that Chilli germination is exceedingly slow. So slow that I am worried that seeds may be rotting in their trays.  So worried that I replanted a new batch of the Most Wanted Chillis last weekend.

The only chillis that are actually Jumping Up in their trays are the Habaneros. Far more than I can reasonably cope with. The other  Big Surprise is the Hot Bananas -- a random cross between Sweet Banana and something hotter -- probably Jalapeno or Serrano. So what I have are the F1 children and we shall certainly have some surprises in store.

So here's an idea: Take a bunch of fresh Habaneros and chop their stem-ends off so that they're pretty-well opened up. Drown them in a jar of Honey. Leave alone for a few weeks.  Hot Habanero Honey, anyone?

On the Nature of Research Gardening

Days are beginning to draw in; night comes a little too early, and Summer's really over. Winter crops – onions, garlic, cabbage tribe and a few other odds and ends – are coming up in seed trays, and I've finally made a start on clearing and composting the (ex-)Tomato beds.

Somewhere sleeting through the Universe for æons, minding its own tiny business, comes an Idea Particle...

A couple of years ago I stopped treating Chillis1 as Annuals, although that's how most people grow them. "After all," I thought, "they're true Perennials, and since we don't get any frost here, why am I ripping them out fo the ground each Autumn, and starting new plants every Spring?" Sure enough, it works brilliantly. It means I get Chillis as much as six weeks earlier than new-season plants, and its well worth it, even though the fruit gets a bit smaller each season, and the plants produce somewhat less. One Jalapeño bush is reaching the end of its third season, and still prolific enough to be worth hanging onto. So now I have Chillis on a 3-year rotation, but...

Still not satisfied. I generally sow Chillis in September, placing the seed-trays atop a warm compost heap. Chillis like a bit of bottom heat to get going, but I have on occasion cooked the seeds with my over-enthusiastic hot compost. With September sowing (I've tried August, but its a bit too early for them) I generally start harvesting around the end of January or mid-Feb. What would happen, though if I sow Chillis now -- in April!

In theory the weather is still warm enough for them to germinate and put in a bit of growth before they shut down for Winter in about mid-June. Without frost they should be fine until the weather warms up (and plants can tell these things much, much better than we!) Then they should get off to a flying start and be fruiting by early December, but with all the advantage of being "new-season" plants.

So we'll see... Remind me to report back in October or November (unless some other disaster strikes.) Today I planted a couple of dozen each of Jalapeño, Habanero, Serrano and Cherry Peppers -- all favourites of mine.

Parting Shot

One shot good quality Vodka, well chilled in the freezer.
One Serrano pepper, quartered lengthwise, but not all-the-way.

Drop the Serrano into the Vodka. Leave alone for 3 to 5 minutes if you can. Sip.

But slowly!

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[1] I know that lots of people spell it "Chile" or some other baroque monstrosity, but I can't get the hang of that.

Mike's Psychedelic Breakfast

Chillis are back.  Oh, it's soooo good to have fresh chillis every day again!  No matter how oft repeated, it's true: A Day Without Chillis Is A Day Wasted.  So far its only the Jalapeños and Red Hats, but it's all good...

Actually, their "real" name is Bishop's Hat, but, being an open-source-software kind of family, "Red Hat" seems like a better name.

Breakfast Recipe:

Some Chillis; say 6 or 8 Jalapeños, plus 3 or 4 Red Hats.  Or any hot chillis you like. (If they're not hot, what's the bloody point?)  Chop them up and dump into a cast-iron pan with a little dab of butter.

I never eat margarine, being slightly suspicious of a so-called foodstuff that's only about two processing steps short of being plastic.
Fry the Chillis at a medium heat with a lid on to sweat them a little.
Add four to six small Tomatoes, halved, when the Chilli fumes start getting noticeable -- I used Ida Gold (sorta two-bite size) and Gold Nugget.  Keep the lid off the pan for this stage.  Start the Tomatoes on their backs first  (the skin side), turning them after awhile so that the cut ends get a bit caramelized.

I remember reading that the Aztecs used to use Chillis as a punishment for naughty children: They'd chuck a handful of Chillis onto a fire, and force the child to breathe the fumes. Sounds like a hectic punishment, but probably less truly harmful than smacks.

About the time the Chilli fumes start getting serious -- the time you start coughing, your nose begins streaming, and the Dog runs outside -- crack two Eggs into the mix, and cover the pan again until the eggs are as cooked as you like.

Serve on a couple of slices of sourdough Rye bread made yesterday.

The only not-homegrown ingredients: the butter, the rye flour, the salt, oil and malt-extract in the bread, and the coffee.

PS: As I sit here writing, our Loerie has just crash-landed into the Grape Vine again for her afternoon feed...