quince

Last week my old friend Dan Millman asked me, “So, are you busy working in your garden?” Silence. Thinking, uh, not really. “Umm.” “Oh, winter?” Something like that.

These are not the fun times in the garden. They really are not. At best I’m using the blower to move leaves along and cutting back now decrepit stems of oregano I left long past their prime as the honeybees seemed to appreciate the last of the blossoms, and I wasn’t going to interfere in that. I might snatch at a naughty weed trying to make its way into my tierra, no thank you. But I’m not planting anything yet. And I rather thought there wasn’t much to see. Honestly? I’m largely just avoiding mud. Really.

But then I thought about it again. Only days later I took my camera out, intent on finding buds at very least, and have consequently opened up my vision way past what I anticipated. For this is what I found. Open your eyes.

hydrangea
Perhaps it really does take a gardener to be excited about the new growth spotted on the hydrangea. But it worked for me. I know what will follow. Gorgeous pompoms of white and pink and lavenders. Even the thought of it makes me smile.

California poppy

A bit surprised to see the California poppy so far along. It won’t be long before their orange splendor is lighting up the back garden. I’m inspired to put more seeds in the ground and expand their territory.

wild violet

Oh, I knew the violets were in full bloom. I’ve taken two tiny bouquets to beloved friend Conny, who loves them dearly. Every year they enter new areas of the garden and I don’t discourage them at all. The post I did on wild violets is one of the most visited on this blog. People love them, and usually have associations with their past. This must be true of Conny, as well, who is from Germany, as she starts exclaiming endearing things in German when I present her with her gift.

I bought the wild violets a present. Pink violets. A hybrid, no doubt. And they compliment the wild ones beautifully.

Soon it will be full out camellia season, and the first ones to blossom are out.

This is actually a Christmas camellia, but winter has been such an unpredictable force this year that this plant only recently began to blossom. I love it. I love the cheer it brings.

white camellias

I was surprised to see the white camellia had opened. I have to actually go on to my neighbor’s property to see the first ones that open, as they are on the fence line, rather hidden and respond, like most flowers, to the sun’s light and heat. I find them very elegant.

As I’m walking about poking here and there for the earliest signs of the changing of the season I’m finding myself thinking more and more about the projects in which we are engaged that can take literally years to come to full fruition. I think of how easily we might become discouraged in the face of the struggle, and might even be tempted to abandon our dream when had we cultivated the patience and fortitude and persistence, we might have had a very different outcome. What’s that quote that recycles on Twitter about “giving up just before the miracle”?

crocus

The crocuses are thoroughly here. Small and direct, announcing their place in the world.

my orphan rose

A few years ago I rescued a bunch of small withered roses on the cheap at a drug store which I promptly repotted in a dozen lively pots. Here’s one, full of new growth, probably because I did fertilize all the roses last weekend! It makes such a huge difference, doesn’t it? I have gotten enormous pleasure out of these dear roses that might easily have been recycled!

Now. What’s this, you say? This, dear ones, is a seventy year old rose. No, really. My neighbors decided to “simplify” a portion of their property and dug up about a dozen old roses that had been on their property before they bought it in the 50’s! I was flabbergasted and volunteered to take them on. (Wouldn’t you?) Worried about their vulnerability, I put them in a big tub of water until I could figure what to do. Did I mention winter was already upon us? I resorted to placing each in a big rubber pot and praying over them. And apparently it worked. They are tougher than I would ever have imagined. They are all sprouting new growth and I am very much looking forward to placing them in a more suitable permanent place in spring! Hallelujah!

Enjoy your own spring unfolding, dear readers! Let me know what’s happening where you live!

Love and seasonal blessings,
Kathryn xoxo

Book News: Best news I had today was that Keplers Books in Menlo Park will be featuring Plant Whatever Brings You Joy in their gardening blast to their customers in March! Meanwhile, excerpts will be appearing in Ode Magazine in February, in The Edge in March and in Western North Carolina Woman in April.

I would be remiss if I did not draw attention to the fact I have been working very hard at expanding the numbers of bookstores carrying Plant Whatever Brings You Joy. A full list here. And if you have not yet seen the trailer…

Lastly, gardening bloggers interested in the 2012 Gardening Bloggers Fling in Asheville, NC can find details here. An early draft of Plant Whatever Brings You Joy was written in Asheville. A visit there should include a trip to their excellent bookstore Malaprops (where, yes,you can find my book!).

Posted on February 15th, 2012 by Kathryn
Filed under: Plants | 16 Comments »

Several weeks ago, just before Christmas, I was delighted when a kindly neighbor showed up at my door bearing a gift of a goodly amount of persimmons in a bag. I LOVE persimmons, so this was quite a treat! However, fortunately or unfortunately, they were all simultaneously fully ripened. Perplexed, I decided to risk freezing a few and to ponder later what I would do. I did have the good sense to skin them and measure them out into cups so I might readily use in whatever recipe I would settle on once I’d had time to decide how I might use their deliciousness. A brief google foray got me thinking persimmon pudding might be a good direction to go.

The last of the Christmas decor now wrapped and stored in boxes and back into the shed I finally had time to continue delving into the direction I’d thought most interesting–a lovely pudding. I was in for a surprise. Somehow thinking this was rather a Southern dish I discovered that persimmon pudding is more the realm of folks in Indiana. I have no idea why. Are they the persimmon capital of the world? Equally interesting is that persimmon pudding is apparently an English Christmas fixture, right up there with fruitcake if I have interpreted correctly. Huh.

More importantly, as I read various recipes–and there were plenty, all different!–I began to realize that my notion of a soft creamy warm pudding coming out of the oven in perhaps a lovely orange tinge was out of the question, for persimmon pudding, it turns out, is more cake than anything I’d recognize as a pudding. Who knew?

Adding to the complexity was an intial question, which I took to twitter, knowing I had both Southern and English followers, as to whether it’s better to use whole milk, which I would expect, or buttermilk, which I had definitely not anticipated.

Blimey. This was getting more complicated, and about to get more so. For I learned that for a proper persimmon pudding [cake] one needs to have one of these:

pudding mold

And not only that, but, once the pudding [batter] is inside, one must affix it properly, and (I read) that if it’s not done properly, well, they can simply explode.

Which is why I moved on to another remedy.

Somewhere in my travels I read of a couple who also wanted to make persimmon pudding. And they, like I, had never eaten it before, so you can imagine there is a certain degree of hazard preparing something you have never actually seen–or tasted. Yes.

And this poor couple also were not the fine owners of a pudding mold, nor had they ever heard of one. But they were inventive, and tried using a bundt pan instead, which, unfortunately, became locked in the bottom of the pan in which they were boiling the pudding. Oh, yes, dear readers. You didn’t misread. I did say boiling. For the last bit of surprise came in the learning that one must place the mold in a pot of boiling water for two hours. Thus you can imagine the possibility of the exploding bit.

And since the couple did not have a lid for their bundt pan, they used tinfoil.

So I had an ah-ha moment!

I combined what I know about steamed puddings. [See rice pudding recipe here.] And was able to forgo a lengthy search for a pudding mold (certain there are none to be had in these parts!). And I made the pudding [batter] and filled my trusty pudding dishes, inherited from my Grandmother, about which I am very sentimental, 3/4 full. And put tinfoil over the top of each. And placed them all in waterbaths in large pyrex dishes. I had to use two to accommodate all the dishes. Here they are.

And then I ballparked how long they would take, which was one hour and a quarter at 350 degrees F in the oven, all while I watched the Golden Globes, so perfect. Oh, and I left out the best part! Rather than needing to decide whether to use whole milk or buttermilk I opted for a recipe than used brandy! Brilliant!

Persimmon Pudding

1/2 cup unsalted butter (softened!)
1 cup sugar
1 cup all purpose flour
1 cup persimmon (peeled and mooshed)
3 t. brandy
2 large eggs
2 t. baking soda (mixed in 2 t. warm water)
1/2 vanilla
1 and 1/2 t. ginger
1/2 t. cloves
1/2 t. cinnamon
1/2 cup chopped walnuts or pecans
1 cup raisins, golden raisins or currents or all three

Cream butter and sugar. Add flour, persimmon, brandy, eggs and baking soda mixture. Add vanilla, ginger, cloves and cinnamon. Mix. Fold in walnuts and raisins and/or currants.

Place in heatproof buttered pudding dishes or ramekins. Cover with tinfoil. Place in waterbath.
Place in oven for an hour and a quarter at 350 degrees F.

Remove from oven and from waterbath. Let sit briefly. Remove from dishes. May add hardsauce prior to serving, which one might readily make by mixing 1/2 cup softened unsalted butter, 1 cup of powdered sugar and a bit of brandy.

And here’s how they turned out. Absolutely delicious!

Served up nicely:

There truly is a benefit to sprouting one’s kitchen wings and trying something you have never made before, even if you’ve never even eaten it anywhere in your life. You draw upon your past experiences and you bumble through. You look things up. You ask. And voila, you’ve just expanded your dessert repertoire!

Love and kitchen adventure blessings,
Kathryn xoxo

Book News: Loveliest news today: Antonia just returned from two weeks in Bali, and she surprised me with the following tweet this afternoon, which left me in open-hearted tears:

Donated a copy of @KathrynHallPR’s Beautiful book to the Pondok Pekak Library in Ubud #Bali #Indonesia 😀 http://twitpic.com/8848ss

Please watch for the excerpt from Plant Whatever Brings You Joy soon in the January issue of Ode Magazine, due out end of the month! I’m excited! I do hope you enjoy the story!

If you have not yet checked out the trailer for the book, enjoy here.

Posted on January 16th, 2012 by Kathryn
Filed under: People at Life | 8 Comments »