There is a thick layer of icy snow carpeting the garden. The drifts have puffed up to the edges of the raised beds like overflowing pots of boiling milk. Underneath the snow is a thick layer of leaves—a natural mulch from a neighbor’s nosy, peering tree. In the summer the tree shadows out the garden by mid-afternoon, but right now I am thankful for its foliage. The leaves are keeping the bugs alive and the soil warm and protected.
Underneath the leaves are a cover crop, a clover if I remember correctly, that never quite took off before the dark and frost arrived. That’s okay. Some of the seeds will survive and, in the early days of spring, sprout, shy and green, returning nitrogen to the soil for a summer of hard work.
As much as I despise the cold and darkness of this season, without this respite the garden would be a drag. I’m secretly relieved when the cool days begin and I am less responsible for its care. I put off those last tasks of the season; the days-long chores of cleaning, tidying, pruning, and managing.
But now it’s January and I’ve forgotten all of that. I am inside, cozy and caffeinated, organizing my seeds into neat, labeled piles of recommended before-last-frost start dates and dreaming about the first barefoot walk to snip basil and steal a cherry tomato.
Last year’s garden wasn’t that much different from the prior year’s—we had a June wedding and a busy summer. A few new crops didn’t pan out (potatoes and onions), I continued to fight the shade with my old faithfuls, and I mostly relied on my existing seed collection. But this year I put in a large seed order, gathered from a year of observations and gardening YouTubes. I’m feeling newly invigorated and ready for a wiser, fuller, new garden.
A few themes have emerged for this year: more pollinator-attracting flowers, more herbs, and an attempted truce with the shade.
Flowers
This year I will grow cosmos, strawflowers, nasturtiums, snapdragons, and four o’clocks again. I am taking a few lessons I learned to heart: nasturtium blooms don’t like fertile soil, but nonetheless are an exceptional aphid trap. I need to plant the snapdragons outside earlier and place the strawflowers in a spot where their three-foot stalks make sense. I hope my echinacea plant overwintered okay, but I’ll start a couple new ones this year and see where else I can sneak them in.
On the list for new flowers are foxglove, swamp milkweed, bergamot, calendula, and borage. Purely for their beauty I’m trying amaranth (a grain technically) and a poppy.
The ground soil of our Brooklyn backyard is likely full of lead, and therefore off-limits for edibles. Last year I planted some sunflowers in a few spots to the sides of my beds, but nothing took off. I am going to try again—earlier, and with more soil amendments.
Tomatoes
As it’s a fight with the shade each year, I have decided to double-down on cherry and smaller tomatoes and give the sun-loving, large heirlooms a break. I will plant Sun Golds again and two new cherries—a black cherry that tolerates shadier conditions and the high-yield, colorful Bumble Bee.
The one exception to my cherry tomato rule is a single plant of Orange Banana Plum paste tomatoes. (Paste tomatoes have fewer seeds and less water and for that reason are more ideal for sauces and pastes.) This will be my first determinate variety of tomatoes. Determinate tomato plants ripen in one big batch (a determined set of time), rather than indeterminate, which continue growing and ripening throughout the season. After picking up a bag of farmer’s market paste tomatoes last summer, I realized I must grow my own paste tomatoes for sauce-making.
Peppers
I don’t know if it was the timing or my pruning, but last year was the first year I successfully grew peppers from seed. The Lemon Drop peppers I planted were indeed too hot for casual eating, but I liked growing the colorful fruits, so will do so again and plan to air-dry them for seasoning beans.
Applying the same shade theory to my peppers as I am to my tomatoes, I am growing smaller varietals of sweet peppers for the first time. I picked up Sweet Violet Sparkle peppers and the very charming, orange Etituda peppers. And I have some Shishito seeds from years past I may grow as insurance.
Herbs
In addition to my typical Genovese basil, opal basil, oregano, mint, and sage, I am planting for the first time this year cilantro, (and, fingers crossed, sow it continuously through the summer), marjoram, fenugreek, Za’tar oregano, Japanese mitsuba, Elephant dill, Tulsi basil, Thai basil, and lemon balm.
My lavender, chamomile, oregano, and rosemary should have overwintered, so I’ll enjoy those again. I didn’t have much luck with Summer Savory last year, but I will try again. And I’m sure I’ll sneak in a few more herb plants from the local nursery.
Lettuce
I’ll plant a few (and I mean it, a few) kale, chard, and tatsoi plants this year, to take advantage of the cool spring, but I will continue to let our CSA do the heavy lifting for our weekly greens.
Fruit
It’s difficult to garden in a rental and balance investment with practicality. When we move I’ll break down my garden beds and spread my much-loved soil into the backyard. Since we don’t own, it makes sense to limit slow-bearing perennials. But we’ve been here for five years and I already regret not planting container fruits like berries. I’m debating between blueberries and blackberries. Let me know what you think.
I will also pot up the much-loved, fruitless Brown Turkey fig tree and hope my curry leaf survives the winter inside. I have dreams of a New York City pawpaw tree but will have to wait for my own backyard.
The randos
My onion plants never took to their transplant last year, so I am going to pass. I did pick up some scallion seeds since we eat those so much, and I’ll cross my fingers they are easier than their big-bulbed siblings.
The potatoes did not yield well last year (I planted them in my most shaded bed, if you remember), but I was so blown away by the taste of red Adirondack potatoes that I am going to plant them again. This year I will properly hill them with more soil as they grow, perhaps in a grow bag, and see if I can solve my yielding issue.
I have a couple additional large grow bags, so I’ll try these Romanesque zucchini. I’ve had awful luck with squashes, I am jealous of everyone’s abundant zucchini complaints.
My most shaded bed
In my most difficult bed I will trellis peas and plant the chard and kale. I am trying radishes in there too, this Easter Egg variety and a white radish, and a Bush bean (suggestions you all made in my garden tour comments, thank you). I may save a few Rancho Gordo Bean Club beans and see if I can get them to germinate. I’m also thinking some of the shade-friendly herbs in this bed?
Speaking of radishes, I was intrigued by the idea of these Rat Tail Radishes, after learning you can let radishes go to seed and snack on their seed pods. The Rat Tails seems to require a bit of room, so I’ll think about it some more before devoting any more precious space.
What are you growing this year for the first time?
More of my gardening posts:
I'm a new Brooklyn gardener, so this gives me so much hope. And why did I never think of trying to grow Rancho Gordo beans? That's brilliant.
I am in the desert and don’t do much gardening, but in at the farm in an Italy we have a full garden. Mainly stocked with what’s in season. Tomatoes, peppers, eggplant zucchini always do well. Nothing like a garden tomato!!