The Family Garden

          Throughout history, the family garden was very important. For many, it meant the difference between eating plentifully during the winter or having meager meals. The size of the garden was always in direct proportion to the number of people it needed to feed and family plots could be found not only in rural areas but also in urban yards. Our ancestors were no different. During the late 1880's when most of them immigrated from their homelands, they would make sure a garden spot was hand tilled and planted so the harvest could be preserved for winter eating. During the depression years, the family garden took on a new meaning and many children were enlisted in the garden's care of hand weeding and watering. Of course harvest time also meant the children were able to pick the produce and help with the canning and preservation. These would be the meals they would be fed in the winter so it was important to make sure the garden produced as much as possible. If you had a growing family, a garden would save the family many dollars on the grocery bill. Money was scarce during the depression.

My family was no different.

My mother always had a large garden. There were rows of beans, carrots, tomatoes, several kinds of squash, and cucumbers. There were radishes, and potatoes and a few rows of corn with their tassels swaying in the breeze. The garden would have to produce enough vegetables to feed a family a five for the coming year. That meant during harvest season, Mom spent days processing the fruits of her summer’s labor. These lessons on canning were also shared with Julie and I as we worked along side Mom, learning how to slip tomato skins, cut carrots and beans, and other skills we would need in our future.

As we got older, we also were expected to help in the garden. We were patiently taught to distinguish between a garden plant and a weed. We were taught that if you pull only the tops of the weeds, you would be battling that same weed tomorrow.  Weeds needed to be dug from the root, carefully making sure you got the whole thing and not just a portion. We would need to be extra careful with the weeds that were close to the vegetable plants.  We were taught the best time to harvest, when the vegetables were at their best. Many times after his retirement from the farm, Pa would also help in the garden.

A good gardener always samples the fruits. A plump cucumber was quickly plucked from its vine. I carefully inspected it and realized it would need cleaning before I popped it into my mouth. As my mother taught me, I gently rubbed it up and down on the leg of my jeans slowly twirling it to make sure all sides were cleaned. It crunched as I took a huge bite. Summer gardens!

At the edge of the garden stood the rhubarb patch. Rhubarb likes shade so the patch was located in the shade of the garage. Mom used the rhubarb to make jam, sauce, and my favorite; rhubarb pie. As youngsters, a special treat was when Mom would hand us her tin measuring cup with about ¼ cup of sugar in the bottom and tell us to go pick a stalk of rhubarb. Yummm. We knew we didn’t want a very fat stalk as the more flavorful stalks are about ½ in diameter. We kept the leaf on as we pretended it was a plumed pen needing dipping in ink. We sat on the cool concrete steps and dipped our rhubarb stalk in the sugar and giggling as we ate. 

Mom’s Rhubarb Custard Pie

1 frozen unbaked deep dish 9 inch pie crust or homemade pie crust.

Beat 3 large eggs

Add 2 tablespoons of milk.

Mix and stir in 1 ½ cups of sugar, 3 tablespoons flour and ½ tsp. nutmeg.

Stir in 4 cups of sliced rhubarb.

(I also add a packet of unflavored gelatin and refrigerate right from the oven as some years the rhubarb has too much moisture in it and the pie doesn't set up properly)

Pour mixture into piecrust and bake at 400° for 55 minutes. Allow to cool before serving. Refrigerate leftovers.