A Saga of Swiss Chard.

Swiss chard is a great garden green. In Oakland, it will grow prolifically year-round (it's a little stronger-tasting in the summer, milder in cooler times). It grows readily from seed and even self-seeds if you let it. Grown in your own organic soil, it's so good for you, packed with vitamins and minerals and oh-so-much-fiber. But here's the problem: there's only so much of the stuff you can eat. It's kinda intense, health-foody, medicinal almost. Which is why ours ended up bolting and going to seed last summer - when you have heaps of gorgeous heirloom purple-red-yellow streaky tomatoes to harvest and eat with fresh basil, olive oil, and bufalo mozzerella, it's hard to get excited about boiled swiss chard stems, even if they are a kick-ass source of calcium.

But here it is, the dead of winter, and we have two huge, lush, swiss chard plants in the garden that must have grown from seed. What to do?

Once again, Deborah Madison comes to the rescue. A huge heap of chard leaves, a couple red potatoes, leaks or onions, and some sorrel or lemon juice (of course, we went with lemon juice, since lemons are one of our other prolific winter crops), pureed, with a glop of sour cream on top, and it tastes like a delicious and delicate cream of spinach soup. Mmmm ...

Of course, you can't exactly have pureed chard soup every day, either, and those plants outside are quickly making up for last week's harvest. I need more recipes, people!

Today's six-word memoir:

Started a garden; too much chard.

Edit: Thanks to Rebecca for the pictures and the recipe link!