Fleur-de-Survivors

Well, it appears that I have more than one thing to be thankful for.

Here are the plants on and around our deck garden that the groundhogs DON’T like:

Basil, chives, chocolate mint, figs (please, not the figs!), French tarragon, goji berries, guava, lavender, lemon verbena, Meyer lemon, oregano, red raspberries (although I didn’t get a berry, thanks to the chipmunks), rosemary, sage, Shishito peppers, and thyme, plus an armful of flowers: zinnias, rain lilies, petunias, Mexican bush sage, lantana, geraniums and Brazilian vervain. I’m feeling a little guilty complaining about groundhog appetites with all of this bounty.

Shishito Peppers

This is the first time I’ve grown Shishito peppers and they’re in a Growbox. What prolific plants. I love to break out the cast iron pan, coat it with olive oil, give them a good blister, and sprinkle with sea salt. They’re so much fun to eat. And, when the weather chills, I’m going to roll the Growbox inside. Peppers are perennials. It will be a good winter experiment to see if they will continue to fruit.

Yes, I am thankful.

Shishito closeup

Then, I got an email from Tom and Eydie. They are long-time gardeners and have their share of groundhog stories. They evicted one pesky groundhog living under their barn, only to get a new tenant in the groundhog den—a Pepé Le Pew skunk.

I am doubly thankful. Laurie Lynch

The Belgian Way #1: The groundhog has spared my herbs, so I’m using them with abandon. I think I’ve mentioned this before, but there’s nothing wrong with a reminder. Koen, Marina’s Sig Oth, showed me a simple way to prep herbs. Take a pair of scissors to the garden and clip what you want for a certain dish. (Last night I selected tarragon, lemon thyme, and oregano to enhance sautéed squash, onions and green peppers.) Wash herbs under the faucet, then blot dry with a paper towel. Put all of your herbs in a clean coffee mug, removing any woody stems. Insert scissors in the cup, rapidly cutting all of the leaves. Simply sprinkle the finely cut herbs contained neatly in your mug on top of your dinner.

The Belgian Way #2: Not a meal goes by when I don’t make use of a trick Koen’s grandmother Maria shared to remove the crusty, cooked-on residue in a frying pan. She pours white distilled vinegar into the pan, lets it sit a minute or so, and all of the crud washes right out. Magic. Until I tried her method, I soaked pans overnight, filling them with warm, soapy water, hoping I wouldn’t have to scrub too much the next morning—an unslightly mess.

The Belgian Way #3: While I’m passing along these Belgian tips, I might as well indulge in a little Grandma show-and-tell. My granddaughter Lais turned 5 this summer and her favorite place to be during this summer’s heat wave (canicule in French) was under the shade of the giant trees in Parc de Monceau-sur-Sambre—an arboretum with its very own castle in Charleroi, Belgium. She has her maman’s curls, her papa’s long legs, her grandmother’s tree-hugger genes, and her great-grandmother’s knack for hamming it up for the camera.