Sap is running in the sugar bush, the ground is loosening with rain and warmth, and I’m soaking my first round of garden seeds. I have observed the rites of spring planting for most of my life, and I know of no more hopeful ceremony. There is always some dreaming involved, a little picture making about the patterns I’ll create with Black Magic, Winterbor, and Redbor kale. How I’ll train the Sashimi cucumbers up a trellis, so the gherkins can fatten in midair. How a white hibiscus might look against the side of the greenhouse.
Beautiful! If there's one regret I have about leaving, it's that I missed out on the hot sauce industry that had begun to follow in the footsteps of craft beer. You touch on something immensely profound in a time of great fear, pain and strife: we love this condiment and its spice so much, but why? As you pointed out, it's "just" a condiment. The resonance of pain and meaning (paired with the pastime of gardening) is probably the best explanation I've encountered. To be sure, it's also the only one: but it's hard to surpass this one.
I think Karel Capek, author of that most Czech book on gardening, the Gardener's Year (which is in English translation) would have very much enjoyed this post.
So, so beautiful Joshua. And such an interweaving and layering of themes and remembrances and... respect. Respect for those who paved the way (and all their pain), respect for nature, and respect for hope, and bright futures given even extra flavour and colour by a hot sauce infused with love!
Thank you, Matthew. Yes, I would say that respect is a big part of my gardening ethic. I enjoy renewing my connection to primary sources of energy, and growing food is a good way to feel connected to a source of life.
This essay is exquisite. It's about gardening, loss, rebuilding, hope, neighbors, migration, craft work, care for the dead -- hmm, what am I missing? -- oh, right, and funny labels! A hymn indeed.
Beautiful in its multiple levels of resonance. I love the ways you connect this recipe with your own life and history, but also with the deepest universal human themes: life, death, memory, resurrection, the meaning of work, the goodness of food we grow and share, etc. And I love it that you are carrying on the work of your predecessors on this piece of ground (as you did in Iowa), and have been careful to let the husband know that you intend to honor his life and work in this way.
Thank you, Stephen! I've never taken over someone else's well-tended garden before, so it is a special privilege. I cut this anecdote from the essay because I find that I can't document it easily, but I recall a tradition in beekeeping, for transferring care of a hive, that requires someone to whisper the name of the former beekeeper into the ear of the new one. I'm sure that I've garbled that in translation, and it may be pure hearsay, but I like it nonetheless. The older I get, the more I appreciate pretty fictions, especially if they convey a deeper truth.
Thanks for generously sharing this recipe. I’ll be making it soon, no doubt. It’s hard to find good (no, any!) spicy food in Switzerland. I go over the border to the French grocery store for the right ingredients, and I’m heading there tomorrow.
I'd love to hear how yours turns out if you try it! And I do recommend Robb's book. He has 60 recipes or so. I've just settled on one that works especially well!
He loves poblanos, and also notes that many dried chiles sold in the U.S. are mislabeled: "MILLER: That’s one of the problems. Whatever it says on the package may not be true. The point is that mulatos, when you hold them up to the light, like this, see it’s more purple and more reddish . . ."
Thanks! That link isn't working, but what a fascinating fact, if true, about labeling. Poblanos aren't quite spicy enough for me, but they are great for stuffing with rice and sausage.
Joshua - this was a great read. I enjoyed the stories of the gardens and the history that was interwoven there among the different generations. I also enjoyed reading about the hot sauce. My wife is from Peru, and we enjoy eating spicy food at home. My wife and son can eat some scorching stuff. My daughter and I love spicy but it still needs to have flavor. We don't have a garden at our current home, but I am saving this recipe for a day when we do.
Thank you, Matthew! You can make the recipe with farmers market peppers, too, if your garden takes a while to complete. I think you'll find that the fermentation adds a lot of flavor :). My personal standard for homemade goods is that it has to be both cheaper than what I can buy at the store and higher quality. This recipe succeeds on both counts!
First of all—yes to peppers. Secondly thanks for the deep thoughts on gardening. Our soil and our places of growth require such. Few give it as you do 🙏
"Part of it is that growing food ties me to a place. Even if gardening requires ripping out the old, making it new, imagining how it could be, a fresh growing season reminds me of the longer arcs of natural history, what shaped the soil and streams, and of human communities, how many hands the land has passed through. And so my garden moves forward and back in time, recalling how it was and who entrusted this ground to me."
I will send this to my wife who loves hot sauce. She views her taste buds as a superpower, able to withstand the spiciest of the spicy.
If we meet up in NYC this summer, I'll be sure to bring a bottle of Dr. Josh's Hot Sauce!
Beautiful! If there's one regret I have about leaving, it's that I missed out on the hot sauce industry that had begun to follow in the footsteps of craft beer. You touch on something immensely profound in a time of great fear, pain and strife: we love this condiment and its spice so much, but why? As you pointed out, it's "just" a condiment. The resonance of pain and meaning (paired with the pastime of gardening) is probably the best explanation I've encountered. To be sure, it's also the only one: but it's hard to surpass this one.
I think Karel Capek, author of that most Czech book on gardening, the Gardener's Year (which is in English translation) would have very much enjoyed this post.
Thanks for this reminder to read Capek! I'll look his book up immediately.
So, so beautiful Joshua. And such an interweaving and layering of themes and remembrances and... respect. Respect for those who paved the way (and all their pain), respect for nature, and respect for hope, and bright futures given even extra flavour and colour by a hot sauce infused with love!
Thank you, Matthew. Yes, I would say that respect is a big part of my gardening ethic. I enjoy renewing my connection to primary sources of energy, and growing food is a good way to feel connected to a source of life.
This essay is exquisite. It's about gardening, loss, rebuilding, hope, neighbors, migration, craft work, care for the dead -- hmm, what am I missing? -- oh, right, and funny labels! A hymn indeed.
Thanks so much, Tara! (And for restacking ❤️)
Beautiful in its multiple levels of resonance. I love the ways you connect this recipe with your own life and history, but also with the deepest universal human themes: life, death, memory, resurrection, the meaning of work, the goodness of food we grow and share, etc. And I love it that you are carrying on the work of your predecessors on this piece of ground (as you did in Iowa), and have been careful to let the husband know that you intend to honor his life and work in this way.
Thank you, Stephen! I've never taken over someone else's well-tended garden before, so it is a special privilege. I cut this anecdote from the essay because I find that I can't document it easily, but I recall a tradition in beekeeping, for transferring care of a hive, that requires someone to whisper the name of the former beekeeper into the ear of the new one. I'm sure that I've garbled that in translation, and it may be pure hearsay, but I like it nonetheless. The older I get, the more I appreciate pretty fictions, especially if they convey a deeper truth.
I enjoyed this, Joshua!
Thanks for generously sharing this recipe. I’ll be making it soon, no doubt. It’s hard to find good (no, any!) spicy food in Switzerland. I go over the border to the French grocery store for the right ingredients, and I’m heading there tomorrow.
I'd love to hear how yours turns out if you try it! And I do recommend Robb's book. He has 60 recipes or so. I've just settled on one that works especially well!
Wow this looks amazing !!!!! Great read
Thank you!
Mark Miller's conversation with Tyler Cowen may speak to you: https://conversationswithtyler.com/episodes/mark-miller/
He loves poblanos, and also notes that many dried chiles sold in the U.S. are mislabeled: "MILLER: That’s one of the problems. Whatever it says on the package may not be true. The point is that mulatos, when you hold them up to the light, like this, see it’s more purple and more reddish . . ."
Thanks! That link isn't working, but what a fascinating fact, if true, about labeling. Poblanos aren't quite spicy enough for me, but they are great for stuffing with rice and sausage.
She's ready!
Joshua - this was a great read. I enjoyed the stories of the gardens and the history that was interwoven there among the different generations. I also enjoyed reading about the hot sauce. My wife is from Peru, and we enjoy eating spicy food at home. My wife and son can eat some scorching stuff. My daughter and I love spicy but it still needs to have flavor. We don't have a garden at our current home, but I am saving this recipe for a day when we do.
Thank you, Matthew! You can make the recipe with farmers market peppers, too, if your garden takes a while to complete. I think you'll find that the fermentation adds a lot of flavor :). My personal standard for homemade goods is that it has to be both cheaper than what I can buy at the store and higher quality. This recipe succeeds on both counts!
Good call on the farmers market idea. We have a great one here locally so I will check that out.
This was wonderful. Inspired to get back in the garden soon.
Thanks, Stephanie. Happy gardening (or dreaming while you wait)!
Thank you! I am considerably better at dreaming than gardening.
First of all—yes to peppers. Secondly thanks for the deep thoughts on gardening. Our soil and our places of growth require such. Few give it as you do 🙏
Thanks, Dee -- I know you feel a strong connection to place, as well.
"Part of it is that growing food ties me to a place. Even if gardening requires ripping out the old, making it new, imagining how it could be, a fresh growing season reminds me of the longer arcs of natural history, what shaped the soil and streams, and of human communities, how many hands the land has passed through. And so my garden moves forward and back in time, recalling how it was and who entrusted this ground to me."
Gorgeous writing.
Thanks, Michael!