Well, it has been now been a month and a half since our initial fish pepper germination and twenty days since we first sowed the seeds. The seedlings are coming along nicely, the leaves are getting bigger, and finally showing signs of variegation. As mentioned in my previous post on these guys, fish peppers are an African American heirloom pepper from the Chesapeake Bay Area popular in seafood thought to be from the Caribbean.
I am growing these at the recommendation of my sister and while I am primarily excited about all the fun history of the plant (food history is the best kind of history), something else that I love about it is its variegation. Some of our seedlings were so white that the amount of albinism they had meant an inability to photosynthesize and they died almost immediately after popping out of the ground. The splashes of white on the leaves make the plant beautiful and on top of being tasty, a great ornamental addition to the garden.
So where does variegation come from and why is this the only pepper we have heard of to have it? Well, it’s just a wonderful freaky mutation and we don’t get out much! The white spots on its leaves arise because of a lack of the green pigment chlorophyll in a blotch of the plant cell. Those white patches cannot photosynthesize. Since green is still the dominant color of the plant, it survives and thrives. This variegation is usually the result of a cell mutation, and in fish peppers is apparently genetic (it has also been chimeric in other plants). I imagine what happened is that a hundred fifty years ago the mutation occurred in the plant and as can happen, the characteristic stabilized in the plant’s offspring. From some reading, it seems that a season’s climatic condition can affect when leaf variegation and fruit stripe appears. It can sometimes appear at first or second set of true leaves, but sometimes not till a bit later in the season for a plant. Anecdotally, mine have been all over the place in terms of pepper variegation. Since these peppers cross pollinate so easily, I would be interested in setting out my fish peppers near some sweet peppers and seeing if I could come up with some sort of hybrid! As for why this is the only pepper I’ve heard about for variegation, it seems like I simply have not done my research! There are plenty of other variegated hot pepper varieties such as Trifetti, Variegata, Filius Blue, and Golden Nugget. These are going to have to be a few varieties I consider for next season.
But for this summer, I am super excited about these fish peppers. They are a great ornamental addition in the garden, and unlike all my squash, I don’t think all the Chicago critters will be able to chomp down on these too much!
I love thyme. It’s my favorite herb and I cook with it as much as I can. The distinctive strong aroma and bold taste means it easily stands on its own as the star of a dish but the flavor profile also blends well with many other herbs and seasonings from warm climates, creating beautiful medleys on the stove top and in the salad bowl. I always have some on hand in the spice cabinet and when in doubt with what to add to a meal I’ll usually give it a few shakes of thyme. The only problem is that the dried version is nowhere near as flavorful as the growing plant and much to my chagrin I can never seem to keep a thyme plant alive! We’ve tried to grow a thyme plant in a container the last few years and all have kicked the bucket on us. An attempt or two directly in the garden failed as well. This year, instead of leaving the fate of our new thyme plant up to fate and our incapable hands, I’ve done some research and aim for better success for our humble plant this year.
Our thyme plant will be a primarily indoor plant with some time spent outside during the summer months, so most of my planting plan is built around that. Thyme originates from the Mediterranean region and likes a well drained soil on the sandier side. In retrospect, this was our most common mistake, as we have planted it in potting soil designed to retain moisture as well as garden beds heavy on clay in the past. This year, I’ve mixed some cactus soil (heavy on sand and perlite) with potting soil to create a more hospitable environment for our thyme plant.
In addition to this, thyme requires mostly full to full sun to grow. Last year we had it on our back porch, which gets only a few hours of the morning sun. No wonder it died so quickly! Heavy potting soil and limited sunlight does not do a thyme good. We will be keeping it in our front windows with the occasional trip up to our roof deck for the summer months. Hopefully the better sun and soil conditions will yield a healthy thyme plant whose leaves will impart their fragrance to our cooking this summer, instead of the usual dried out and dead mess we have by June.
(Here it is in its new home! Hopefully the more spacious confines will give it space to fill out over the next few weeks.)
Anybody have any other tips for growing thyme or other herbs? We’d love to hear them! Also, if you have a favorite recipe featuring thyme please feel free to share! We always love trying out new recipes in the kitchen.
…you’ll be tired of germinating! But then we’ll just germinate some more!
Truth be told, I started writing this post on Thursday night and was sidetracked before I finished. On Friday, they were looking a little worse for wear and I was worried my excitement was premature. We were out of town this weekend and with the absence of our tender care for thirty-six hours I was worried we would be coming back to a mass die off. My fears were mostly misplaced as the majority of the seedlings have survived thus far. The d’Esplette peppers are more finicky than I imagined they would be. They germinated at a fairly high rate and faster than most of the other peppers we grew but life has not been kind to them. Two look strong right now but the others have either died or look on their way to the grave. I planted another couple of seeds just in case. This was the variety of pepper that got me back into the garden this year and I would hate to miss out on making some of my own d’Esplette seasoning because I was too frugal to start a few more seeds.
This is what they looked like Thursday night:
And here we are today:
The pimente d’Esplette are in the container on the left in both pictures and the petite Marseillas are on the right. As you can see, the petite Marseillas are doing great and I don’t think we’ll need to worry about starting anymore of them. The pimente d’Esplette have not improved much over the last few days. Hopefully between the few surviving seedlings in this first batch as well as the couple I planted today we’ll manage to get a few peppers.
I conducted my germination blind this year, pushing the seeds into the pods and hoping for the best. I think next year I’ll do some more experimentation to see what leads the highest germination rates, best growth, and highest survival. Super_C# has mentioned paper towels so maybe we’ll try that, but I’ll have to do some more research too. Plants are growing out of the ground everywhere, after all, so it can’t be that hard!
This weekend was the beginning of the spring season here. Sure, the official start was about two weeks ago, but for me spring doesn’t really get going until my eyes are itching and my nose is congested from allergies. Fortunately, the outburst of tree pollen fades in short order and the increasing temperatures and sunlight persist for the coming months. Those who live in the north mark their lives through the coming and going of the seasons, an uncertain method matching the uncertainty of our lives. Sometimes spring comes late, summer is unusually hot, or winter unusually harsh; people come and go, as does work, we move around. Despite their variability the seasons lend our lives a comforting backdrop. They happen in a regular order, spring always following winter, giving way to summer, and crisp fall days guide us gently (sometimes not so gently) back into winter. A predictability all of us crave at times.
Of the four, winter is the most maligned. It is often considered a period of dormancy for plants and animals alike. The leaves have left the trees, plants have died, man and animal have either migrated or shifted into a period of relative inactivity, some more than others. I am one of those who tries to stay active during the winter, picking up winter sports and trying to find the beauty in the outdoors when the weather is inhospitable even if it must happen underneath the protective layers of a thick jacket, hat, and mittens. I would be lying if I said that the long winter nights and the sometimes unrelenting bleakness did not get to me, especially in those bitterly cold January nights and damp and chilly February days, where spring seems so close yet still so far away.
Taking part in the preparation for planting season this year has changed my opinion on winter being a time of inactivity where rejuvenation awaits the spring thaw. Watching seeds come to life in mid-February, when the sky is still gray and snow is on the ground, was proof enough for me that winter is as much a time for life as the gentler seasons. Late winter is when the birds start to come and sing their songs once again, filling the void they left when they went south the previous autumn. Forest mammals begin to emerge from their winter homes. Particularly ambitious plants poke up out of the ground. People begin to plan their spring and summer activities knowing that even though they may still seem far away they’ll be here soon enough, often sneaking up without warning. It is thoughts like these that keep me going on those days in the depth of winter and hoping for warmer days, tromping home from work when it’s dark at four in the afternoon or watching from underneath a blanket as my street is buried by yet another snowfall. Even at its worst, spring is always right around the corner. Soon these plants, which emerged at the end of winter, will take root in the garden in the spring, grow throughout the summer, and bear fruit in the fall before winter claims them. Not long after it will be time to plant for another year.
I love seeds. Laying in bed with a beer and flipping through seed catalogs is one of the things that gets me to winter. I get buzzed. I look at all the peppers, tomatoes, funky flowers and drift off into into a wonderland of spring and summer planting. I breathe life into the pun of hoardiculture.
So with my very limited space and my propensity for hoarding seeds, I have accumulated a lot through the years. I hate wasting and thus try to stretch out the longevity of my unused seeds as much as I can. I keep a rotation to make sure that none of the seeds I save for next season are more than two or three years old. That is when the germination rates really drop. Here are my tips to help you germinate and grow old seeds! If scientists could germinate a 32,000 year old seed, maybe we can have luck with a three year old one.
Store you unused seeds in the best possible environment. That means keeping them dry by placing them in an airtight container to keep out moisture.
Keep them dormant. That means cool and dark. I store mine in plastic ziplock bags in my fridge. Stratification is tedious, but important.
Stay organized. Label all of your packets and the dates they were original packaged. Trust me, this is for your own sanity later on.
Don’t waste peat pellets. Check your germination rates. Do a patch test of a few seeds on a damp paper towel. If after 1
0 days (depending on your plants), you’ve got about a 50% germination rate, you should be good to go!
Know thy plant. Certain seeds are just more viable in old age than others. For example, corn and pepper have a hard time lasting longer than two years, like a cucumber will be quite successful even six or so years later than it was packed. Other seeds like chamomile require light to germinate.
What is the old plant you guys have germinated? Today I decided to give a watercress from 2007 a whirl