In flux

Best friends invited themselves for dinner. Since it will perhaps be the last friends' supper on our Harlem terrace I asked our Lovely Upstairs Neighbor and The Diplomat's Son to join us. We ate knotweed and field garlic flower pickles, ginger ale ham and herby poatoes, drank Champagne, exchanged war stories and caught the unmistakeable odor of dead rat inbetween gusts of lily perfume. It seemed appropriate.

This morning I picked a handful of Alpine strawberries. They were my breakfast.

Then I gathered some Trionfo Violetto beans from the beanscreen, and began making a bamboo teepee for some climbers currently attached to the railings around the skylight. I snipped the cardinal vine clear and detached the Roguchi clematis, unplanting their room-mate rose in the process and giving it a new pot. Now, hopefully, the climbers can move with us. If we move to a space with sun. We just don't know, yet.

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How it is

With a move and uncertainty in our near future, I have no garden captions to provide. I flip between optimism and panic several times a day. Nights are worse. In the evenings the Frenchman and I eat out here and I try not to talk about the garden. He works under such pressure daily that this unexpected move is actually worse for him. But we laugh sometimes, and often we hear Don Estorbo's boice joining the conbersation, from either heaven or hell, depending on where they have sent him that day (he spends a lot of time in the elevator).

Yes. It helps to be a little bit mad.

Last night we watched fire flies, and laughed every time one lit up.

The purple beans are working hard.

We'll have friends over for supper tomorrow, probably for the last time. 

And I'll be at beautiful Wave Hill at 1pm on Satuday, talking about Northeastern flavors and books. There will be a herb walk and a book signing. I hope to bring along some wild botanical cordials - if you drink them up there will be fewer to carry when we move!

Apartment needed

A June supper

[Update: Apartment found!]

By now I have flower-bombed social media with this message and finally it comes to rest here:

SOS. Help needed:

The Frenchman and I have just learned that our landlord is not renewing the lease on our Harlem apartment. It expires at the end of August. He says he will be doing renovations in our apartment which will also involve ripping up part of the terrace.

While this apartment and location have come with problems, there are many things we like a lot (space, tall ceilings, terrace), and I am still stunned. We made it a home. The garden is looking very beautiful right now, lush, healthy and happy. I love sitting out there, and the thought of destroying it all at its peak is numbing.

To add to the bad timing,  I had just  booked a late-August, early-September trip to South Africa - to see my not-very-well parents, in their 80's. We had been planning this for a while. The Frenchman's ticket was to have been bought today. He needs a vacation. not a move. I have just booked and paid for a visit to the wonderful spring flowers on the West Coast of the country. That trip is probably toast.

Young sparrow

So. Dear New York City Universe, with matter-of-fact New York directness:

We are looking for a 1 bedroom apartment with a garden or terrace or roof deck (private outdoor space is essential), rent in the realm of $2,700 or less (we pay less currently, which might be a Harlem thing). To move in by, or before, September 1st. We are pretty open to neighborhoods, and know our rent will probably prescribe the hood. As tenants we are quiet, considerate, and leave the place better than we found it.

The jewelweed forest

If you know of a place or someone who might know, please get in touch using the Find/Follow tab, top right.

The tame mourning dove (the bravest of of six)

Hey. We may even move back to Brooklyn!

And then, after this, we will never rent again.

Formosa = beautiful

...or perhaps voluptuous.

The Formosa lilies are opening. Lilium formosanum, named after the island to which they are native, now Taiwan, then Formosa.

They are lilies in pure form. No spots and stripes, no flaring, no frills. Their scent is delicious and not cloying.

They have some competition from the jewelweed.

Their scent is more pronounced at night.

And good news! The 'Roguchi' clematis (below, with the leaves of a cardinal vine) is in bloom, a rare survivor of last winter. I was incensed the other morning when I found some perfect buds on the terrace floor, the stems neatly snipped. I blame the blue jays. There is four-bird family that visits the terrace - which is nice. But the teenagers are halfwits who will peck at anything that looks juicy. Perhaps they mistook it for  a blueberry. I see that two Silk Road lily buds bear beak marks, too.

It is July. The evenings are bringing rocket fire to the sidewalk, which last night had me diving for cover before I realized it was rocket fire. A little too reminiscent of the sidewalk gunshot two weeks ago. Apparently I've been away for the two previous 4th of July's so the local celebrations are new to me.

We will probably spend that day out at Dead Horse Bay (I'm leading a walk there on August 15th, at low glass-gathering tide). It's been a while. And I have promised myself that I'd bake biscuits, and maybe make a ham. The local stoop sitters might like both.

In other news, I will be giving a talk about local flavors and green spaces at Wave Hill on July 11th, at 1pm, and signing copies of 66 Square Feet- A Delicious Life. It would be nice to see you there.

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Summer living

The bean screen is in full swing. New tendrils tilt skywards and every morning I twine them around their wires. The more leaves the fewer windows we see, when sitting outside at night. The purple runner beans have even begun to make tiny-tiny beans.

Suppers are outdoors most nights.

This evening we ate a wild summer herb: American burnweed (Erechtites hieraciifolius, see image below). It is virtually unknown, in the eating world. It grows tall in wasteland and woodland at this time of year.I stumbled across it in 2012 and have been playing with it in moderation every summer since.

It is pungent, the smell reminiscent of lime skin and of cilantro, and of neither. The older leaves are bitter. I like it with the strong flavours of soy, lime, garlic, lemongrass. It would also be good as a foil for sushi, the way shiso is used. This salad was made with terrace herbs: shiso, Thai and purple basil, nasturtium, cilantro - each assertive. The dressing was sesame oil and lime, with a little sugar and black soy sauce. And those are our own favas. One whole handful!

Pine Ridge Chenin blanc-Viognier. Dry but very fruity, perfect for bold food.

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You like it? Use it!

My editor asked me to sneak around Cape Town to steal some ideas for Gardenista....

Read the story in the link:  11 Garden Ideas to Steal from Cape Town. 

(Two of the gardens pictured - one is above, also where the kitty lives) were open to the public last November, for Open Gardens Constantia, held every two years to raise money for two Cape Town NGO's that teach people in underserved local communities to garden and to grow food for home use and for profit.)

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The day of the rainbow

 Brooklyn

Better late than never. 

Sometimes, there is good news.

 Brooklyn, by the Frenchman

Marriage equality. 

 Cape Town

In South Africa gay marriage was legalized in 2006. 

Vancouver, by the Frenchman

A big rainbow hug to all our gay American friends.

A big kiss for the activists and quiet fighters who made it happen.

And a steadfast wish that discrimination everywhere will find an end.

(Now, do I have what it takes to make a rainbow cocktail?)

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