A dried bean appears to be dead. Hard as a rock, void of nutrients. Add water, and you can revitalize the bean and transform it into a creamy, nutritious mush. Still, although I love all kinds of beans, beans are still full of starch. However, a sprouted bean is just beginning to create new life — you’ve created a perpetual mini garden in your kitchen to feed your family “fresh food.”

It’s like an “indoor garden” right on your own counter.

I’ve been buried in a bevy of cookbooks lately, Raw Food Cookbooks

touting the benefits and “how-tos” of sprouting beans and grains. Here’s what I’ve learned so far:

• We’ve all heard that beans are full of nutrients. However, there are amino acids in the bean that binds with calcium, magnesium, iron, copper, and zinc, making it hard to impossible for you to absorb those nutrients. When you sprout the beans, you are neutralizing these amino acids — which makes it easier for your body to gain access to these nutrients — especially protein.
• “The process of germination not only produces vitamin C, but also changes the composition of grains and seeds in numerous beneficial ways. Sprouting increases vitamin B content, especially B2, B5, and B6. Carotene increases dramatically-sometimes even eightfold.” Nourishing Traditions: The Cookbook that Challenges Politically Correct Nutrition and the Diet Dictocrats
• Sprouting activates nutrients that are bound up in the seeds, making more protein available in the food. For example, a grain of wheat, increases its vitamin E content 300% after only 2 days of growth and the B2 vitamin riboflavin jumps from 13 milligrams to 54 mg in the sprout. In general, b vitamins can increase 300% to 1400% depending on the variety.
• Sprouting also makes the bean easier to digest and eliminates the gasses traditionally found in beans.

So, I began the process of bringing my dried beans to life — not just through “rehydration” but actually turning the bean into a plant… live food.  Here’s how I proceeded.

Admittedly, I started with probably the hardest bean to sprout — the garbanzo bean. If you want to try sprouting, pick a softer bean — like a lentil, which can sprout in almost a day. My family loves garbanzo beans, and I’m a very patient person, so I rolled up my sleeves and forged ahead.

I made this sprouting process as simple as possible. I refused to buy any extra “sprouting” equipment.

I simply soaked the garbanzo beans overnight — probably about 36 hours. Garbanzo beans are VERY hard — rocks, really, and required to be soaked longer than most beans. I changed the water at least every 12 hours. (Soaking them in the refrigerator may have eliminated this fresh water changes.)

Then, when the garbanzo beans were done soaking, (just beginning to soften), I rinsed them thoroughly and just set them up in a colander. I rinsed them every few hours. Sprouting took a couple of days. But once they sprouted,

they were beautiful.

Now, here is where I made my mistake.

I immediately began to process the beans in my food processor. I had read too many over-zealous raw cookbooks, who had convinced me that heat destroys all the nutrient value of any food. I added the garlic, salt, the tahini, the lemon juice, and just whizzed away. The soft beans actually did turn into a creamy hummus — without much effort!

The taste, I will admit, was Putrid! I was quite disappointed… and I wouldn’t even let my family taste this raw concoction… for fear that I would turn them off sprouted food forever.

Back to square one, after realizing that I have been eating cooked food my whole life, and I haven’t died yet. A little heat would have done this hummus some good. Besides, what good is a nutritious food is no one is eating it?  So, I’m working on this again — this time, cooking the garbanzo beans after sprouting. Sprouting, they tell me, will cut the cooking time in half. If you’ve ever cooked a garbanzo bean, you know that’s reason enough to sprout.

My first introduction into gardening was by my mother, of course. I was less than five years old the morning she dedicated a 4×4 square plot of our yard to me. “This was my very own flower garden,” she said. The first plants we planted were Morning Roses. Not really roses, as they had fern-like leaves that looked, at first, as if they might be sharp, but were actually quite soft, yet sturdy.

Morning Roses open only in the morning. Four o’clocks open in the afternoon. Moon flowers bloom at night. Enchantment is the only word to describe the feeling I had about peculiar flowers that followed the tick of a clock.

In 1751, Carolus Linnaeus had a similar vision. He hypothesized a Flower Clock garden plan that would take advantage of several plants that open or close their flowers at particular times of the day to accurately predict the time. He called it the Horologium Florae. Several botanical gardens attempted the idea in the early 19th century, with mixed success.

“Many plants exhibit a strong circadian rhythm, and a few have been observed to open at quite a regular time, but the accuracy of such a clock is diminished because flowering time is affected by weather and seasonal effects.

No one can precisely capture the bloom of a Morning Rose.

During a recent visit to a museum with my son, I stumbled upon this intriguing piece of art, by Brandon Antczak,

who attempted to capture what Linnaeus was also unable to capture in real life, onto paper. The piece exhibited is titled Mr. Linnaeus’ Larks & Owls. Interestingly, Antczak ran into similar challenges.

Brandon compiled images for each specific plant species from herbariums around the world. Using water as a solvent he transferred the ink from each plants’ image onto paper using a printing press. The swelling of the paper, combined with the pressure from the press caused creases to form in the paper, a physical attribute reminiscent of plant roots.

Here, those imperfections of physical life created art. The swelling of the paper creates something texturally beautiful.

What is even more interesting, is the list of plants, along with their bloom times. 

The list has scribbles of modifications and changes — looking surprisingly similar to my own garden list and plans, after real-life invades.

I remember that when it came to my own flower garden, I missed everything. In the mornings, I forgot to check on the roses, as I was occupied with Captain Kangaroo. By afternoon, I was busy climbing a tree, so I missed the Four O’Clocks. When the Moon Flowers came out, I was playing Ghost in the Graveyard. There was a rhythmic mystery going on in my very own flower garden, but I scarcely took the time to participate and watch what was going on.

Visually, I missed the blooms at their appointed times. Yet, the beatings of their appointed bloom times cycled through my memory. I may not have seen the Morning Rose close, but I knew it did. I never forgot the spectacle that my eyes have yet to see.

Apparently, all of us who speak the language of plants, have yet to capture their elusive rhythms.

I dream of a day when I can grow tomatoes, right next to the corn, smack dab in the front yard. Why hide those gorgeous vegetables in the back? Besides, my best light is in the front… my tomatoes are never ready before frost in my shady back yard. But, until the day comes when people realize that wholesome food is beautiful, I’ll improvise — with a Secret Vegetable Garden.

One of the best ways is to grow “pretty” vegetables. Three of them you can find in the seed carousel at your local supermarket.

• New Zealand Spinach: Here’s a recipe for Wild Mushroom Saute from the New Yorker Magazine. I’m surprised as common as this seed packet is in the carousel, that I don’t hear more people talking about this beautiful, leafy ground cover.  Truly a spinach, with a bold flavor, this is a “hot weather” spinach. Which means, that unlike traditional spinach, this one keeps getting better as the summer gets hotter. And unlike traditional spinach, this grows small leaves, close to the ground, and makes a very, thick green ground cover. Perfect for containers too. And, this makes a delicious salad

• Bachelor Buttons: Cornflower blue… bright blue, white, pink and red… and just imagine this in your salad — or your soup. (Maybe fried, like a crouton?!) So easy to grow… and they re-seed, all by themselves.
• Daylilies.We eat them all the time

• Nasturtiums: This is a close cousin, in taste to Arugula. Peppery… and so good in a steak salad. I write about this flower all the time, because I use it in so many ways. Nasturtium is a flowering vine that is perfect for containers, window boxes or ground cover. Bright orange, yellow and red flowers. The entire plant is edible… leaves for pesto, and flowers fried. The plant also forms little pods that are called poor man’s capers.

• Sweet Potatoes! The edible tuber producing sweet potato also produces the vine that you see in ornamental containers. Just ask the nursery to give you edible sweet potato  – or producing vinew. If you can keep the rabbits away… you’ll have a nice crop to harvest come fall.

Chives: Makes a pretty vinegar.

The list of edible flowers is long… you’d be surprised. Carnation, Impatiens, Marigold (as a substitute for Saffron… which is quite expensive) Lilac (couldn’t believe it) and Peony — who knew?!

Please be careful. Daffodils, Crocus, Sweet Pea, Clematis, Fox Glove and Hyacinths are Poisonous. Stay away. If you’re in doubt, please check with the County Extension Office.

Still, there are hundreds of way to eat from your front yard, without anyone really knowing, you’re secretly growing a load of vegetables.

We love fennel. We love cutting it up in little pieces and broiling it with salt and olive oil.

We use it like croutons on salads, and the boys simply just eat them by the handfuls.

We use the “base” to cook… and then I stick the fronds in a vase, so that the boys can nibble on the feathery-licorce flavored fronds.

I learned from Pinterest that you can plant celery by cutting off the bottom, and sticking it into the ground… so why not fennel too? It looks exactly the same at the bottom — so why not?

So, we cut off the bottom of celery and fennel,

and stuck them in the ground.

I love growing food from food I already have. I did the same thing with leeks… something I’ve been trying to grow for years — with no luck.

I simply cut off the bottoms (just like onions) and stuck them into the ground… roots down.

Just magical.

It’s been unseasonably warm. We are still waiting on winter — but from the looks at the forecast — it’s not coming around again until November. Snow appeared once or twice — but no long spells of cold Mid-West temperatures. Weeds that were growing when we raked leaves last fall, are still green… the air never got cold enough to kill the weeds. (Or mosquito larva?)

We could have planted.  We could have planted all of those cold-tolerant vegetables that people in California plant in the fall. We could have eaten spinach, kale, and beets all winter long. Fresh from the garden… if only we knew we weren’t going to have a winter.

This heat makes me feel uncomfortable…seeds could be germinating by now… I’m wasting this heat. So, I pulled out a packet of seeds — multi-colored carrots –

And, by request from the boys, who believe digging up carrots is too much work, (I agree) we planted them in a pot… so when it’s time to harvest them, we can just dump the pot, and wash off the carrots. Brilliant.

Nasturtiums, I will plant tomorrow. Those edible flowers take forever to come up — I hope to make Nasturtium Pesto at least by July this year… rather than August. Nasturtiums are  hardy… they can handle whatever March has in store for them… so they are soaking tonight… to be planted outside tomorrow.

Please, pick up a packet of Nasturtiums the next time you’re at the grocery store… they’re on those racks by the check-out. Soak them overnight… (hard shells) and plant them, in a pot, or along your walkway. One edible plant that brings so much beauty.

For onions… I simply saved the bottoms off the onions… and planted them. A tip I learned on Pinterest. I also learned you can do this with leeks… that’s tomorrow.

Kale seeds, beets radishes, and all sorts of greens could be planted too — those things that grow  underground can certainly handle March.(I planted them all last March, and it was colder then… and they did just fine.) So many opportunities right now… can hardly wait.

So, I may have missed a nice fresh batch of Kale… but at least, I have seeds that are germinating. This brings peace to a gardener’s heart. I can hardly wait to read your emails to see what you have already gotten a jump on in your garden — your emails inspire me so, very much.

I may have had a couple of zucchini’s left… but the mother-lode of the season was clearly, hands-down, the Nasturtiums.

Yes, our front yard looks amazing this fall… which might explain why I had so many squireels snacking on my front porch?

This was taken before the squirrels arrived…

Desperate to get those flowers and leaves harvested before the frost, I made pesto, I dried them (storing them in little glass jars),

and then I came up with these nasturtiums quesadillas.

Wash the ants off the nastriums and let them drain.

First brown chopped onions on a lightly oiled hot skillet.
After 5 minutes, add some black beans.
Remove the beans and onions and set aside.
Next, throw the tortillas onto a hot skillet, and top with your favorite cheese — something like Monterrey Jack, or even better — Pepper Jack.
Next sprinkle the nasturtium flowers and leaves, and fold the tortilla over.

Once cheese has melted, cut into strips, and sprinkle with Paprika.

Miraculously, just before the frost hit here, I still had some zucchinis thriving in the yard — with blossoms.

So, I made these. And I ate them up.

To make them, slice your zucchini into little rectangular shapes.

Mix some olive oil, basil,  Parmesan cheese, salt and bread crumbs — yes… I used Rice Chex — don’t ask me why and put on top. Top with a blossom. You could still use Nasturtium blossoms if you have some left.

If you don’t like the raw crunch of the zucchini, just pre-bake the zucchini before adding the toppings.

The Nasturtium seeds I planted back in February did make it, but it seemed to take forever. They are now in full, I mean, abundant, sidewalk sweeping view all the way up to my front walk, where four very large vibrant pumpkins are sitting, right below the orange and black spidery-feathery wreath.

I’d show you a picture of the Nasturtium landscape in my front yard, but the sky has been gray for so many days, the picture wouldn’t turn out — but it will come.

I can’t resist picking a few blooms for breakfast lunch and dinner, sprinkling them on top of my eggs, the chicken, or whatever I’m eating. And I haven’t even got around to making the Nasturtium Pesto yet.  So far, my all time favorite meal with Nasturtium flowers — and leaves — is when they are sitting under a layer of caramelized fennel and red onions, splashed with lots of red wine vinegar and sea salt.

Not sure how I stumbled across this meal, but it is fabulous — the sharp, tangy hot flavor of the nasturtiums are perfectly balanced against the natural sweetness of the caramelized fennel and onions.

To make this delicious salad, slice the fennel and onion and throw them on a pan with a bit of olive oil, and set salt. Keep the pan on medium low, and just let them cook down. Flip them over, and let them get very brown and golden. The sugars are being released — or created… who knows?

Next, pick and rinse your Nasturtium flowers and rinse in salt water. Chop them up loosely, and put on a plate. Add the fennel, onions, red wine vinegar and salt… and enjoy.

My friend Karen once had, what I now refer to, as the “mother-lode” of Basil harvest. She handed be an armful bouquet of Basil… and she still had more to spare. I have yet to experience such a harvest again. So now, because Basil can be so persnickety in the garden, and because I love it so much, I rarely take Basil for granted. When it’s here, and it does grow, I use it or save it.

But how do you save Basil? You can always make batches of pesto, leaving out the cheese, and freeze portions… that works well…but what if you just want to preserve the Basil leaves?

Freezing makes it slimy… and can’t even imagine blanching it. Drying Basil strips the herb of its flavor, stripping away the oils. Then, I found this…

perserving basil in salt.

The salt, unfortunately, does not take on the flavor of the basil, but the basil leaves do maintain their flavor. So, you can re-use the salt. Plus, who wouldn’t want to open the freezer in January, and see a jar like this, just waiting to be topped on a pizza.

To preserve Basil in salt, simply layer sea salt in a jar, and add basil leaves. Keep the salt jars in the freezer and use the basil within six months.