Homegrown: Childhood Memories of Our Family Garden
I grew up in rural Virginia on a small farm surrounded by apple and pear trees and fields of golden wheat. Wild blackberry bushes and majestic cedar trees graced the long, windy roads that led to our home. We lived a humble, simple life.
My childhood is filled with fond memories of being outside: riding bikes, climbing towering trees, building forts and helping to tend our family’s garden. We didn’t have much money and meat was rarely on our plates, a luxury item that we couldn’t always afford. My memories of our family’s garden are deeply meaningful because nurturing it wasn’t just a hobby, it was how we nourished our bodies.
I remember eagerly waiting for the bitter, cold winter to give way to the soft rains and smell of thawing earth. Spring brought hope to our sleeping garden with kale and collards first reaching for the gentle warmth of the sun. Our family could happily be outside once again, while the morning dew still clung to the grass, to prepare our garden beds and plant the first new seeds into the rich, damp soil. I remember walking barefoot the worn dirt paths between each raised bed, fascinated by the curly, spiraling tendrils that grasped the twine trellis my parents had built to help our young, climbing plants grow; picking and sampling bright, green crunchy sugar snap peas and snow peas off the vibrant vines and unearthing bumpy, orange carrots and peppery, red radishes.
Cool spring was quickly replaced by the thick, heavy, humid summer, and our garden overflowed with an abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables: strawberries, melons, beans, corn, zucchini, squash, cucumbers and tomatoes generously shared their bounty and we were thankful for every bit. We’d all help pull stubborn weeds from the beds, ward off hungry bugs, turn the rich compost pile, and pick the rewards of our labor. We’d fill our buckets with plump, ruby-red strawberries and beautiful, sweet blueberries, eager to use them for homemade ice cream.
Sometimes I wished I could be a tiny, nimble beetle, hiding underneath the fragrant leaves of the tomato plants during the day to avoid the blistering July heat, and emerge at night to savor their sweet fruit.
Eventually the sweltering summer gave way to crisp, cool mornings and evenings that came a little earlier. My mom had already spent long, steamy afternoons canning the last of our tomatoes. The apple and pear trees that had stood quietly all season bowed under the weight of their delicious fruit, so full that we often gathered the ripened gifts that had fallen before the squirrels and birds could claim them. Beyond the garden we explored the edge of the woods, searching for wild persimmons and black walnuts. Nothing went to waste.
Today, when the air turns crisp, I find myself reaching for foods that my family pulled from the ground and trees. Our fall harvest brought sweet, butternut squash, pumpkins, potatoes and tender lettuce and cabbage. I didn’t realize it then, but these are some of the most nourishing and affordable foods of the year, and right now, they’re everywhere, piled high at farmers’ markets and grocery stores. You don’t need a farm to eat this way. You just need to know what’s in season and a few simple ways to cook these wonderful fruits and vegetables.
I don't think of those years as hard ones anymore. I think of them as the years I learned what food really is: something you grow, wait for, work for, and share. Every season brings that lesson back to me. I hope this fall you'll fill your kitchen with what's fresh and in season, and if you'd like a little help along the way, you'll find plenty of ideas here at Rouxbe. My family ate this way because we had to. I hope you'll try it because you want to.
