A Veggie-tale

Oh what I wouldn’t give for the Jolly Green Giant to pay me a visit. I never dreamed I would CRAVE vegetables. I was the kid who hated veggies. I’d pick mushrooms off the pizza, swallow peas whole so as to avoid my tongue coming into contact with their nasty taste, turn my nose up at brussels sprouts, and only eat cauliflower if it was smothered in cheese. The pinnacle of my anti-veggie stand came when I proudly announced at the dinner table one evening, that I would rather eat a night crawler than another bite of the veggie du jour. Of course my bluff was called and my brother was promptly sent outdoors to find said night crawler. Given that my Dad was an avid (borderline fanatic) fisherman, night crawlers were always on hand and within minutes a long, fat, juicy night crawler was baiting my fork. I sat at the table long after the family was done with dinner that evening, debating the potential taste of night crawler versus the known nasty taste of the veggie. In the end, the veggie proved more palatable.

Fast forward some 20 odd years and here I sit lamenting the fact that my veggie selection is so limited. I dream about broccoli, crave a cuc, wax poetic on the attributes of zucchini and would give my right arm for a bunch of green beans. I finally decided to take matters into my own hands. I’ve proven to have quite the green thumb when it comes to flowers, but would my luck hold for veggies? I sent an urgent email home with a request for seeds and solicited help from the troops on my compound to prepare the soil. I even personally walked the fields collecting cow poop by hand (desperate times call for desperate measures!). I started the seeds in small pots, celebrated when the first glimpse of green peeked above the soil, carefully transplanted, and faithfully watered. The folks on my compound even began referring to my zucchini, yellow squash, and cucumber plants as “Kristi’s kids”. After weeks of waiting (and salivating), I wound up with ONE yellow squash! Talk about a crushing blow both to my ego and menu. I’m just hoping that my failure is due more to conditions (perhaps zucchinis do not find the high altitude, scorching sun, and cool nights suitable) than my gardening prowess.

Although I’m resigned to the fact that cucs, zucchini and squash aren’t going to grace my dinner plate anytime soon, I am wondering how sautéed zinnias and daisies might taste over a bed of rice? They find the Ethiopian climate extremely suitable and are growing in abundance!

Like a proud parent, I just had to take a picture of my beautiful squash.
Cleome is my new favorite flower and I have to thank my Cherry St. neighbor, Mary, for introducing me to them. They have grown extremely well on Ethiopian soil!