I harvested the final 2011-planted garden crop on the first weekend of February, 2012. Even without a homestead of our own, without a root cellar where I would store the potatoes, carrots, squash and turnips I would have grown to sustain us during the winter months, we still can enjoy fresh things from the garden in winter. This past Saturday I took about 15 leeks from (not in) the garden. Many were fully an inch or more thick and just as long and perfect as you’d see in any market. Their roots grew so thick and deep, I could not simply pull them out without breaking them off. I carefully dug with a garden fork to get them out of the ground, then pounded the roots on the fork to loosen all the heavy, clumped soil. I loved having my hands in the garden again, after these past winter months away from it, though they got red and numb from the cold, moist soil.
Freshly harvested leeks in February
What an aromatic ride home accompanied by newly harvested leeks! I love their distinct and gentle aroma that filled the van with earthy, oniony smells. I’m surprised they lasted so long in the soil. I planted the seeds early last March and they grew slowly and gradually all season. In November, I mounded extra soil around their stalks to protect them from freezing. As it turned out, my precaution was hardly necessary. Actually, had I been the hotshot gardener I like to think I am, I would have piled soil around the leeks last summer to encourage the stems to blanch (get pale or white) and grow longer since the stem is what gets used.
Was it ever fun harvesting a crop in early February! Even more than that, these leeks became an intersection of my garden and literary interests since my wife used them (the leeks, not the literary interests) in the Cock-a-leekie soup we served at the Burns Supper on Saturday. Next year maybe, I will be able to harvest homegrown turnips or potatoes to make into tatties and neeps. For now, it is time to start seeds indoors for spring plantings, the new growing cycle beginning even as the former one ends.
