Missouri Life September 2023

MY MISSOURI LIFE

More Vegetables, Please I’VE CONFESSED TO YOU BEFORE THAT I AM A POOR GARDENER, and my incompetence is not limited to flowers. I am equally adept at killing vegetables. I grew up on a small farm with a huge vegetable gar den. My mom would lovingly tend rhubarb, strawber ries, sweet corn, tomatoes, green beans, okra, peppers, you name it. I’m a bit ashamed as I look back now and realize how little help I gave to her in this endeavor. Some of her horticulture skills might have rubbed off on me if I had paid attention. Instead, I did the mini mum required to earn my allowance, and that usually involved picking the vegetables. I was always more interested in picking things I liked to eat, so I didn’t mind running down the hill to the garden to gather some okra or corn. But green beans … they were tasty enough, I guess, when mom cooked them with onions and bacon, but picking them seemed like an endless chore. How many green bean plants were needed to sustain a family of four? Surely not as many as we had. Every one of those plants yielded what seemed like buckets of beans and the arduous work of picking was just the first part of the process. Picking was followed by snapping, which was just as time-consuming but a lot more fun because it could be done inside the air-conditioned house in front of the television. Mom took over from there. She canned dozens and dozens of quarts of green beans every year. I watched from afar but was not invited to help because of the dangers of pressure cookers and boiling water. By the time I was old enough to be of actual assistance, I was occupied with my busy teenage life. These days, my vegetable gardening is limited to a few heirloom tomato plants I nurtured from seeds purchased from Mansfield’s Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds. Their Whole Seed Catalog convinces aspirational gardeners, even me, that they have the chops to grow something amazing. As of this writing, my little tomato crop is hanging in there. Although I won’t venture outside my tomato comfort zone, there is a roadside spot I go to for the vegetables I would grow if I had the know-how and patience.

Will my fancy heirloom tomatoes ripen before tragedy strikes? The odds are against them.

There’s a roadside stand on Boonville’s Main Street, much like the ones we talk about in this issue, that offers up crates full of the freshest, most colorful home-grown produce you’ve ever seen. When I stopped last week to get a handful of peppers and a watermelon, I found myself pausing in front of the green beans. Sure, I could pick up some frozen green beans at the store and heat them up in a jiffy in the microwave, but these beans were singing a siren song. I was overwhelmed with nostalgia. Besides, the farmer had done the worst part of the job— standing out in the summer heat picking those beans one at a time. I could get all that amazing, fresh-picked flavor and none of the heat stroke. I ended up buying more green beans than Marty and I would need, but I wanted to revisit the best parts of the process. I would plop down on the floor in front of the TV and snap those beans (although getting back up takes a little longer these days) and then cook them up with some bacon and onions. I doubt I’ll start a canning hobby at this point in my life, but my mouth waters at the memory of Mom’s green beans, served up in the dead of winter because she put in all those hours of work in the heat of summer. I am awestruck by those who can coax delicious things from the garden and grateful when those veggies make their way to my plate.

SANDY SELBY EDITOR-IN CHIEF Sandy@MissouriLife.com

SANDY SELBY

8 / MISSOURILIFE.COM