A fall garden in a small backyard (about September 10). The healthy seedlings illustrate that you don’t need much space, just good planning!
The countrey-man hath a provident and gainfull familie, not one whose necessities must be alwaies furnished out of the shop, nor their table out of the market. His provision is alwaies out of his own store, and agreeable with the season of the yeare.
Antonia de Guevera,
The Praise and Happiness
of the Countrie-life
1539
Our first attempts at storing vegetables for the winter were more or less incidental. We’d grown a big long row of carrots and beets and had extras left over in the fall when it was time to clean up the garden for the winter. We brought the surplus root crops into our cool, dirt-floored basement room and kept them there in cartons covered with burlap bags. Gradually we learned how much more our garden could do for us. By spending a little more time planning and planting, we found we could produce as many as 33 different kinds of vegetables for winter storage. With this variety, no one vegetable must carry the burden of being a daily staple, and we don’t tire of our stored bounty. Most vegetables that we plant for fall storage may be sown as succession crops, following early peas, lettuce, or beans. This practice makes efficient use of both garden space and soil nutrients. For example, nitrogen left in the soil by the peas and beans promotes leafy growth of fall cabbages and kale. The whole process of dovetailing spring, summer, and fall crops can be intricate but most satisfying to work out. “Let’s see now, I planted spring peas on the edge of the garden where soil was easy to dig early. Now that they’re finished I can put in kale, which should also be at the edge of the plot so it doesn’t get plowed up at fall clean-up time, and which needs a good supply of nitrogen.”
As we experimented with growing and keeping different vegetables, we discovered what the experts had known all along: that vegetables to be stored keep best if they’re harvested at their peak of maturity — neither underdeveloped nor past their prime. Producing vegetables that are harvest-ready when weather has turned cold enough to provide good storage conditions takes a little planning, but the results are worth every minute spent with pencil, paper, and seed catalogues. Luckily, cool fall weather keeps many vegetables on “hold” so that they don’t grow as fast as they would in summer, thus providing a comfortable margin. Carrots that are ready to harvest in September are just fine for winter storage. Even cabbage that heads in September will usually hold — in a cold climate — for winter eating.
Many storage vegetables, in fact, grow best during the cool days of early fall. Lettuce, escarole, and corn salad, which would have bolted to seed in July and August, grow crisp and leafy in September and October. Cabbage, collards, and kale put on exuberant new green growth. Parsnips, salsify, and Brussels sprouts show their excellent true flavors only after frost has nipped them.
Light affects the development of some vegetables too. Cole crops like broccoli produce best during short days. Soybeans are also short-day plants. Decreasing day length triggers their flower formation. Special winter radish varieties produce good roots when days are short, unlike their quick-growing summer-radish cousins which may develop only a thin scraggly root when the sun sets early.
Enthusiasm for digging, planting, and even weeding seems to come naturally in the spring. The impulse that in March often carries us away with its insistence that we nurture some green thing, must sometimes be summoned with some will power in June, July, and August when weather is hot, weeds are persistent, and the whole burgeoning garden is crowded with productive life. Fall frosts seem far away in July when one must weed early in the day to avoid the baking sun, but that is just the time when many good fall-producing crops should be started. As we gardeners like to remind each other, part of each season is spent preparing for the next. After a few years, the wheel of the year takes us with it. Once you’ve pulled home-grown leeks in November and offered fresh, green, root-cellar salad for Christmas dinner, you find yourself ready to make summer plantings too, even if they must be deliberately scheduled and dutifully carried out, perhaps when you don’t really “feel like it.” Think of it this way: summer plantings carry the garden forward and keep it productive for the second half of the gardening year, the half you miss out on if impulsive spring plantings aren’t succeeded by deliberate summer sowings of durable roots and sturdy leaf crops.
This year, for example, my garden has been an orphan of sorts, for I’ve been too busy helping with house construction to keep it weeded and consistently replanted. I am not proud of the sway it looks this fall. Lamb’s quarters five feet tall tower over the carrot row. A carpet of cheese mallow has invaded the cabbages. The ducks have munched on one patch of escarole and the other patch is not blanched — I haven’t had a chance to tie up the leaves. Nevertheless, the few hours I devoted to renewing the garden in June and July have kept the rows producing. Under all those weeds, I can still find the following vegetables, this second week in November:
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In other years, I have also had rutabagas, kohlrabi, salsify, chard, and turnips.
Sometimes it’s hard to find room in the summer garden for your fall crops, and, in my experience, young seedlings sometimes struggle when planted in the row in summer’s heat. For these reasons, I’ve gotten into the habit of starting seedlings of many of my fall crops in flats. I keep the flats on the porch where I can water them and tend them until the seedlings are about two inches high with sturdy stems and several pairs of leaves. Then I transplant them into spaces in the garden — often into a just-cleared row where I’ve pulled onions, and sometimes into spots where an early planting has finished or failed. This gives me an additional two weeks growing time for early crops in the garden and ensures a good start for the seedlings.
The usual transplanting precautions are especially important in summer heat. Whenever possible, I move seedlings into the garden row on a cloudy day. If rain is expected, I find planting just before a shower preferable to planting after rain. One is less likely to compact soft wet soil by walking over it, and the young plant is naturally watered into place. (I always pour a cupful of water into the planting hole too, of course.)
New transplants need some protection from hot sun for their first three to seven days. I often use berry baskets, which cast a light grid of shade but let sun shine through too. A leafy branch also works well, either placed lightly over the seedlings or stuck in the ground to cast a shadow. Summer transplants usually need to be watered several times in addition to the watering you gave them when setting them out. Mulch them as soon as you can, too, to hold moisture in the soil and control weeds. Once I start canning in August, I find that weeds often get ahead of me, so summer mulch is especially good crop insurance.
A fall garden in a small backyard (about September 10). The healthy seedlings illustrate that you don’t need much space, just good planning!
When sowing seeds directly in the row, I usually water the seeds in the open furrow and then draw a 1⁄4- to 1⁄2-inch layer of fine soil over them. This helps to prevent crusting of the soil. Plants that have delicate foliage, like carrots, often appreciate the additional protection of a thin layer of dried grass clippings or fine, light hay scattered over the row.
Summer planting for fall harvests takes a bit of gumption and persistence. But once started, it becomes a habit. The sight of a row of ruffly, blue-green kale plants flanked by just-heading cauliflower, tender crisp fall head lettuce, and wrist-thick leeks, all lightly silvered with dew on a snappy September morning, will do much to confirm the habit and your own respect for yourself as a gardener and provider. I am busy, absent-minded, and sometimes get behind in my weeding. If I can raise this kind of fall abundance, you can too.