By Margaret Sloan, Sunset production coordinator

Everyone wants to help the bees. Suddenly honey bees are the new chickens: backyard hives are sexy. They're trendy. Ed Wagner of  Mannlake Ltd. says there’s no question about it, sales of beekeeping supplies to new customers are up, and suppliers of package bees have been selling out all over the country. After years of unpopularity, bees, it seems, are becoming fashionable pets.

Trendiness involving animals always sets off cries of alarm from my inner animal-rights activist. I wonder if now that we’ve kindled an interest in bees and beekeeping, could we be in danger of loving the girls to death? Can there be too many hives in an urban area? Will all those extra bees have to compete for a finite amount of nectar and pollen? I know, I know, my concern is not completely altruistic, but will our bees make less honey for us?

I called Kim Flottum, editor of Bee Culture Magazine and the Beekeeper blogger at thedailygreen.com to ask him how many bees could fit in a neighborhood.

He wasn’t worried about them finding enough food. “The carrying capacity of a city can be phenomenal,” he said. “You’ve got parks and roadside plantings. Draw a circle 2 miles around a hive, you’ll find backyards with flowers and weeds.” You’re not likely to run out of forage in most areas.

Kim thinks water—especially in our drought prone Western states—may be more of an issue than lack of forage. “The urban area is all cement. So where will the bees find water? If you’re in the backyard watering, bees will find you.” Swimming pools can be troublesome he said. “The chlorine cloud attracts bees. They love it.”

We all know what it’s like to come nose to proboscis with a floating bee in a swimming pool. And while some cities are changing their zoning codes to allow bees—Denver recently decriminalized keeping bees, and their municipal code declares that domestic honey bees are not “wild or dangerous animals"—bees can and will sting if threatened or scared. And we humans, when we see a bee, tend to flail and shriek and scare the bee.

As more people take on beekeeping in urban areas, the bee-human interface will become the most important issue bees and beekeepers face. I hope we can help the bees can win this one.

By Margo True, Sunset Food Editor

Camellia sinensis (a.k.a. tea).

By Margaret Sloan, Sunset production coordinator

Whew, I'm tired. We spent today going through our three hives. It was the first full inspection we've done since April. Everything seems to be going well in Veronica. She has lots of brood, larvae, and eggs. Midge we're worried about. She has fewer brood cells, not much larvae, and no eggs. We never did see the queen bee, But we did spot her two weeks ago; perhaps we just missed her today.

However, there were many queen cells in Midge, and some were capped—you can see two in the photo at right (click the photo to see a larger image). One looks like a queen has emerged. Does this mean Midge is about to swarm again? Or perhaps she's swarmed and we missed it?  Or this queen cell could be left over from when she swarmed this spring.

Califia is a strong hive and has filled the top bar hive with brood and honey. She's also kind of testy, and more defensive than the other two hives. She tries to chase us away whenever we are near the hives; she gets positively riled into a blue rage when we open her up. Perhaps naming her after an Amazonian warrior queen was not such a good idea.

Actually, all the girls were unhappy with us today, and stung skin, gloves, and suits numerous times. But we were tearing apart the hives, so we did deserve it. And we stole—I mean, harvested—honey. Lots of honey, and each frame has honey of a different flavor. Yum.

By Margo True, Sunset food editor

Hank Shaw in his garden, in front of a gigantic cardoon.

Handmade boar salami....home-cured olives...wine grown in the back yard....fat, juicy venison sausages.

We ate this—and much, much more—on Saturday at the home of Hank Shaw, a political writer, and his partner, Holly Heyser, a journalism professor at Sacramento State.

Hank was also nominated for the James Beard blog award this year. We shared a table with him and Holly and his mom at the awards ceremony in New York back in May, and really enjoyed their company and like-mindedness. Hank writes fascinating accounts of making food from scratch, which in his case involves hunting and fishing as well as gardening. Holly grew up hunting in Minnesota and has a blog of her own about, as she says, "acquiring food the hard way."

Talk about a gracious guy. Even though he lost to us, he invited us to a cookout at his place on the east side of Sacramento. 

Dinner fell on what turned out to be a fearsomely scorching day in his neighborhood—as in, 108 F°. Nonetheless, a small group of us One-Blockers left our cool coastal habitat behind, lured by his promise of wild game.

A Wild Feast

The minute we walked in the door, Hank had his homemade and very respectable sangiovese ready for pouring, and a glistening array of things to eat:

* Good home-cured olives, which I found impressive since we've tried to make them ourselves, without success (yet!)
* Hank's own pickled beets, carrots, and sunchokes
* Totally delicious shad rillettes—a sort of loose pâté, traditionally made with pork or rabbit but here with  tasty local shad that Hank caught with his dad recently on the American River. I had no idea that shad existed in the West. I thought they were strictly an East Coast species. Now I'm hankering to catch some shad myself. (Their roe are particularly amazing, fyi.)
* Excellent saucisson sec, a dry salami from a wild boar Hank bagged in Monterey County. Secret ingredient: 1974 Heitz Cellars Angelica, made from Mission grapes. This fortified wine was the first wine made in California back in the 1700s.
* Lonzino, air-cured from the loin of above boar—more delicate and thinly sliced, so it looked like rose petals
* Fennel- and ouzo-cured salmon, made with an Alaskan pink salmon caught by one of Hank's friends

Bear in mind, these were just the appetizers. I hadn't seen snacks so hefty since my New Year's in Moscow, when I noshed on an enormous spread of zakuski.

After a fully appreciating all that was on the table, we presented Hank with a couple of just-baked fruit pies, plus gifts from the One-Block Diet: last year's honey from hive Veronica and this spring's honey from Midge, plus a bottle of red-wine vinegar and some fresh eggs from the flock.

Then he took us on a tour of their abode.

The Tour

The first guided look-around of a person's house is always fun, isn't it? It's especially interesting when the place is full of strange and quirky stuff. Hank and Holly live in that kind of house, and seeing how Hank makes his food only increased our pleasure in eating it.

Hank's homemade wine, hanging out with the books.
Each carboy holds one varietal; included here are
Tempranillo, Sangiovese, and deep, dark
Portuguese Touriga.The two tiny carboys in back are
Zinfandel, which Hank made from his own grapes
(the rest used grapes he bought).

The garden, where Hank grows everything from beets
to heat-resistant romaine to salsify. 

It occupies a chunk of their 1/4-acre back yard,
but there's plenty of space to grow more stuff. We
semi-seriously suggested he try growing wheat—
since he actually has the space for it.

A few of Hank's vines (I think these are mainly Zinfandel).
More grapes grow against a far wall.

In the garage, garden zucchini dry on a rack.
Several ripe figs were set out to dry on a work
surface nearby.

And best of all...

The "curing fridge"—a battered but useful appliance
in the garage, equipped with a thermostat control
and a teeny humidifier (at bottom right).

Hank at the grill while we gab under the tree.

Hank slowly and tenderly grilled a slew of those venison sausages until they were shiny, taut, and on the verge of bursting. The rest of us sat around under the big shady tree just beyond and gabbed for a while.

The Dinner

We went indoors—merciful air conditioning!—and feasted on those sausages, stuffed into giant buns with homemade pickles; firm, meaty marinated octopus liberally seasoned with paprika; two pasta salads—one with the couscous-like Sardinian pasta called fregola, studded with bocconcini (tiny fresh mozzarella balls), and the other with barley and sundried tomatoes—and a lovely, simple little beet salad with feta cheese and lovage. So much care and generosity went into this dinner. Hank even made the paprika. As in, he grew the peppers, dried them, and ground them. Having made our own salt, we knew this wasn't as crazy as it sounds. These kinds of things are worth doing, if for no other reason that it makes you really, really appreciate paprika and salt.

Hank served his honey lemon-verbena ice cream, I cut up the pies, and we chewed our last bites in a semi-stupor. Hank brought out some little glasses filled with that precious 1974 Heitz Angelica, which tasted surprisingly similar to Italian nocino, a walnut liqueur. Delicious. 

Then Hank and Holly, pied pipers that they are, ushered us into what they proudly call their Opium Den. It's a library with deep pink walls, a comfy sofa, a fireplace, and a mantle adorned with bare skulls of past game. As we sank into the sofa, Hank plied us with homemade absinthe. Yow. You could practically see the fumes emerging from our lips as we tried it. It only took a couple of sips to finish us off.

We eased into our cars and drove home, sated from head to toe and marveling at all that Hank and Holly do. Before we left, they accepted our invitation to munch freshly baked pizzas from our brand-new wood-fired oven, topped, naturally, with whatever will be ripest and most flavorful in the One-Block garden. Coming soon.

UPDATE: Here's what Hank wrote about the evening (and you can see the food he made, too).

By Johanna Silver, Sunset test garden coordinator

I checked on the snails today. They're getting FAT! One in particular looks like it's about to bust out of its shell:

They have until tomorrow to gorge themselves on cornmeal. That's when Amy fries them up!

By Johanna Silver, Sunset test garden coordinator

Last February I introduced quinoa as one of our potential one block crops and explained what goes wrong when planted at the wrong time of year.

We've tried again, this time sowing the seeds in April, and the results are much more successful.

Here is what the plants looked like about a month ago:

And here are a couple of shots from today:

Here are answers to the most commonly posed questions by visitors:

1. What is that?

As I wrote in February, Quinoa is a staple to Andean cultures. It is grown mostly for its edible seed (not a grain, as it is often mistaken, because it is not from a grass) though the leaves are also edible. It is a complete amino acid and is unusually high in protein for a seed.

Here is a link to Sunset recipes with quinoa.

2. I never knew you could grow this in your garden. Is it a good idea?

You can absolutely grow your own quinoa. I recommend Faro, a variety bred for sea level.  It's probably not the most realistic endeavor since our entire bed (4ft. by 8ft.) will likely yield a serving or two (and some say I'm being optimistic). We're doing it for fun. Many of us are of the mindset that it's exciting to grow anything once, even if it's not the most logical use of space. It's the same reason we're growing our own chick peas.

3. Why is that bed of lamb's quarters being allowed to go to seed?

Great question! Quinoa resembles lamb's quarters (or pigweed) because they are in the same Genus, Chenopodium. Lamb's quarters can also be used for their edible leaves, but if you're like me, all you've ever done is weed it.

4. How will you harvest it?

Having never done this before, I'll follow the instructions on the back of the seed packet: Cut mature seed heads after frost, and dry in an undisturbed place. Thresh when completely dry. Rinse well before cooking. Store seeds in cool, dry, dark conditions.

I've always wanted to thresh something....

Reader Karl Arcuri sent us a question last week: I live in Austin and I'm thinking about starting an urban hive. I've been following your blog, and I'm curious on how big your yard is where you keep your hives?

Team Bee member Brianne McElhiney: Here at Sunset, we are fortunate to have a campus that is about 10-12 acres, but the beekeepers guild that I belong to says that you only need about 10 sq. ft.to keep a hive. Recently, I have heard of people in San Francisco raising hives on top of their apartment buildings, and one of the men in my beekeepers guild keeps them at his condo complex.

You just want to be sure that there is a large enough food source for them in your area. Typically your bees will stay within a mile radius, so as long as there are plenty of flowering plants in your neighborhood, the bees will stay around. I would also recommend that you contact your local beekeepers guild (in Austin one guild is the Capital Area Honeybee Stewards) and perhaps attend a meeting. The members are usually very knowledgeable and more than willing to answer any questions you may have about raising bees.

Brianne McElhiney (shown in photo), assistant to the editor-in-chief, keeps bees at her home in the South Bay, as well as working on Sunset's Team Bee.

Team Bee member Margaret Sloan: Our beeyard is in the back of our nursery area (bees like privacy). We keep our hives far enough apart that we can still work between them, but commercial beekeeps stack them on pallets with little or no room in between hives. It’s up to you.

Before you buy bees, be sure to check your city’s municipal code or call the city to find out what the restrictions are. Some cities are fairly restrictive when it comes to beekeeping, and some outlaw beehives altogether, although that is beginning to change.

Update: Since Karl sent us his question, he's emailed us with the news that he's started beekeeping lessons with the owner of Round Rock Honey, and hopes to start his hive in August.

By Johanna Silver, Sunset test garden coordinator   

I crush snails daily in the test garden, but this whole escargot thing is really messing me up. It's one thing to think of them as garden pests and to kill them right away, but a whole other thing to raise them for food. I have much different standards.

I checked on the little guys over the weekend and felt so bad that we were starving them. They had clearly slowed down, and I felt like I was engaged in bizarre form of snail torture. I wanted the little buggers to be ok!  So I cleaned them up and added a few teaspoons of cornmeal.

So far there have been two casualties, but the rest of the gang is still hanging in there.

At this point their systems are purged and they're just being fattened up on the cornmeal. They are excreting nothing but white ribbons of cornmeal:

by Elizabeth Jardina, Sunset researcher

We found a morel in the garden!

(We think it's a morel.*)

Yes, right here in Sunset's test garden, dried up and shriveled and attached to a piece of fir bark mulch.

Sometimes you plan for One-Block projects; other times, they come to you. See, we'd been thinking about ways to expand our hand-grown, handmade feast to include mushrooms for a while. For me, that had meant lingering gazes toward shiitake logs and tiny oyster mushroom farms. And then, we find a morel. It's not enough for a feast, but it's enough to get us thinking.

In theory, at least, growing one's own mushrooms shouldn't be that hard, if you've got wood inoculated with mushroom spores and a cool, dark spot where the magic can happen. Now, it's just a matter of getting the right materials.

*At least, we think it's a morel. It looks an awful lot like a morel. It doesn't especially look like a false morel. That said, I'm so incredibly freaked about the idea of eating wild mushrooms that I have just kept it in my desk for almost a month, in an empty box of Lady Grey tea.

By Johanna Silver, Sunset test garden coordinator

I found a bunch of snails huddled together in the garden and scooped them up in my hand before the sole of my boot could get to them.

Let the fun begin! I'm following Sunset's instructions from 1988, and the first step is to purge them for at least 4 days. This clears their systems from any toxins that might be poisonous for human consumption.

Here I am, such a proud mother, checking them out in their new setup, complete with watering dish:

Their home will need to be cleaned every other day (but they'll survive the weekend, don't you think?) and then they can be fattened up by adding a few teaspoons of cornmeal.

Clockwise from top left: Snaily, Shelly, Shelli, Chelle, Mishell, Rachelle, and Shelby
(Hey - they named the chickens and, though they might be in denial,
we will eventually eat them too.)


Last step: covered in several layers of cheesecloth and secured tightly with a rubber band.

My favorite part of the Sunset article: "Check daily and discard any dead snails. Scratch the snail's foot to check: if it doesn't twitch, the snail is dead." I never thought of their underside as a foot. I like it!

By Johanna Silver, Sunset test garden coordinator

My beloved garbanzo beans have grown fuzzy, adorable seed pods.

This is another first time crop for me, so I'm anxiously tending to them and gently trying to coax them into maturity (mostly by talking to them and reading up on growing conditions).

I'm trying to figure out when they're ready and am getting a bit confused. The horticulture department at Purdue (high up in a google search) says they are ready between 3 and 7 months. How helpful! The same site lists the traditional medicinal uses as, "aphrodisiac, bronchitis, catarrh, cutamenia, cholera, constipation, diarrhea, dyspepsia, flatulence, snakebite, sunstroke, and warts." Impressive -- I don't even know what a few of those conditions are!

On second thought, the 4 month range might have something to to do with the fact that you can eat them fresh when they immature, or wait until the plant browns and eat them as dry beans. I like these instructions: Chickpeas for fresh eating can be picked when pods are still immature and green; they can be eaten like snap beans. For dried chickpeas, harvest the entire plant when the leaves have withered and turned brown; place the plant on a flat, warm surface and allow the pods to dry. Collect the seed as the pods split. Seeds that will barely dent when bitten are sufficiently dry.

I will graciously accept any advice from you, dear reader. Do I cut the water in order to get them to brown? Dried versus fresh? It's my gut to eat them fresh since that seems to be a major perk of growing them.

Side note: I found an empty garbanzo bean pod on the ground after Celebration Weekend and nearly cried. Garden etiquette, people! I had one man PLUCK more than a few leaves of my tarragon to ask me for a plant ID. Now I know none of you would ever do that, right? Especially in the test garden, where everything has the intention of being photographed for the magazine.

By Margaret Sloan, Sunset production coordinator

Beekeeper and beeblogger Kirk Anderson believes that with bees, backwards is the new forwards. Inspired by the writings of Charles Martin Simon, he practices this new trend in hive management. “Take everything you knew about beekeeping and forget about it,” Kirk told me. “Don’t use foundation. Don’t treat them with chemicals. Don’t feed them any additives. If I have to feed them, I’ll feed them cane sugar and water. I let them use their own wax to make their own comb, and then the hive is clean.”

Sure, it’s revolutionary. And controversial. But Kirk keeps “backwards bees” with great success all over the L.A. area in places like Pasadena, Silver Lake, and Studio City. It turns out that Southern California is a great place for bees. Kirk says, “They flourish in urban areas. I haven’t bought bees since 2000. I use feral bees. There are lots of swarms in the L.A. area.”

Kirk’s Beehuman blog centers on how he captures those swarms, and his joy in promoting the fine art of beekeeping. "The number of bees and beekeepers has gone down in the last 20 years.  But it’s like planting seeds. People are getting interested in beekeeping."

Perhaps the trend of keeping backyard bees isn't as popular as the not-so-bogus backyard chicken trend. But less than a year after Kirk started the Backwards Beekeepers bee club in September 2008, 132 people have joined. That's a pretty good number of newbees.

Kirk’s strongest advice on keeping bees to those new to it? Leave the girls alone. “Most people get bees, they think they’ve got an aquarium and want to inspect them once a week or more. When you first get them, give them a week and inspect to make sure she’s laying. Then go through the hive a month later to make sure there’s a good pattern of eggs and brood.

“And be a responsible beekeeper. Because you usually don’t have trouble with bees. You usually have trouble with people.”

By Margo True, Sunset Food Editor

The other day I read an inspiring bit of reader mail about egg-layers who quack instead of cluck. With the writer's permission, I've copied it here.

*  *  *  *  *

The April edition of Sunset couldn’t have had more perfect timing for my backyard projects. I had just finished planting my vegetable garden in my raised planter beds, and was looking forward to home grown eggs from my newly purchased chicks. The only difference being my chicks had webbed feet and bills.
        Ducks are often overlooked as egg producers but depending on the breed lay as many eggs as chickens. Their eggs are larger and are good for general eating. They have slightly higher oil content which makes them great for baking. They are also easy to raise, and more disease resistant and withstand a wider temperature range than chickens. Best of all they will take care of your bugs AND weeds! They love to forage around the backyard for snails, slugs, and whatever else they can find.
        They make great pets and most cities that allow chickens will also let you have ducks. They don’t need a pond but love a shallow tub or “Kiddy pool” to splash in. Some breeds like Pekins can be loud so just make sure you research breeds before you buy. Ducks make great pets and their hilarious antics are a nonstop source of entertainment in my yard.  — Nicole Goss

*  *  *  *  *

She sent these pictures too. They look like happy ducks, don't they?
   

by Elizabeth Jardina, Sunset reseacher

You can visit our One-Block project this weekend at Celebration Weekend.

On June 6-7, we'll be opening our Menlo Park campus up to the public; I'll be in the test garden near the chicken coop.

Here's the One-Block stuff you'll be able to see:

The chicken coop

 

 

Oh, and beautiful flowers too. If you're into that sort of thing.

Bee boxes (without bees)

 

A sniff of vinegar

 

I'd love to talk to any blog-readers who are planning to come out! Find me in the Test Garden. This is me:

 

By Johanna Silver, Sunset test garden coordinator

By Margo True, Sunset Food Editor

Behold our new outdoor kitchen. It was finished about 10 minutes ago. Frankly, I'm dazzled...I have to restrain myself from running out there to admire it yet again. Not only does it have a stately pizza oven (that large red item at the back), a snazzy cocktail/wine bar (in foreground), and a long counter inset with multiple grills and a ferociously hot wok burner, it also has...

by Elizabeth Jardina, Sunset researcher

Sunset's editors have been lately spotted toting bottles of kombucha, fermented tea sold at Whole Foods Markets and natural foods stores. (So you're not surprised if you try it: It smells like vinegar, but get past that and it's tasty. Plus, it has an aura of good health.) However, at $4 a bottle, I'm drinking away my salary.

Which is why I was excited to read on the ApartmentTherapy blog Re-Nest that you can make your own. From reading their description, it's less complicated than making vinegar; it only takes 10 days from putting a batch together to drinking a batch you made yourself.

Now all I need is a "scoby," a symbiotic culture of bacteria and yeast that works like the mother in vinegar-making. Oh, no, wait: Thank goodness for the Internet. According to the Love Your Mother blog (love the name), I can make my own. 

Any DIY-kombucha drinkers out there? I'd love to hear about your experiences.

by Elizabeth Jardina, Sunset researcher

Big Snack gets in on the local movement: Your heart-of-hearts definition of "local food" probably doesn't include anything that comes in a crinkly mylar bag, but the fact remains that potato chips are an agricultural product. Made of actual potatoes. This truth has also not escaped the folks at Lay's, who make the chips in the iconic yellow bag.

Their new campaign, launched two weeks ago when potato farmers rang the opening bell at the New York Stock Exchange, is moving to local festivals and fairs all over the country this summer. Frito-Lay wants you to know that potatoes for its chips are grown in 27 states; at least one of them is likely to be near you, right? 

The "Lay's Local" campaign is trying to associate themselves with the local-food movement: Their product seems fresh (grown by potato farmers in California! and Maine! and Florida!), and it gains a whiff of the wholesomeness of the get-your-hands-dirty folks who have been pushing for local food on blogs like this one. In response, some local-foodies have started throwing out the term "localwashing," a relative of "greenwashing" (when you try to make your product seem more environmentally conscious than it is).

Except after you polish off a bag of Lay's (and we all have; don't lie), you don't end up with dirt under your fingernails—just that greasy, salty, potato chip residue.

Related: Breaking news! Pringles, despite the fact that they're only 42 percent potato (that is true) are officially potato chips according to the British supreme court. (The Brits charge an extra tax for "crisps," as they call their potato chips; the UK Procter & Gamble was arguing they didn't have to pay it because their product is not a chip.)

Have we completely lost our minds about the word "local"? Browsing Salt Lake Magazine's Utah Locovore 100 list was quite a treat. Even if their No. 1 local item is Jell-O. (Wait, what?)

By Margaret Sloan, Sunset production coordinator

There’s been a synchronicity of bees around here this week. The other day, Kimberley and I were discussing the National Wildlife Federation’s June/July story about the importance of native pollinators (and that means bees!) when we saw something crawling on the floor in her office.

It was a bee. This little bee you see here, no longer than an eraser on a pencil.

We don’t know what kind of bee this is, but in the last 2 days, we’ve found 7 of them crawling around the imaging department (2 of them engaged in the activity that fulfills their half of The Birds & The Bees concept). We think they’re native bees, but we don’t know for sure.

Now, I’m no slouch when it comes to plant and animal identification. I love a good dichotomous key. But I have to admit, it was daunting to try to identify this little bee on The Bug Guide, a site that promises to help you identify insects, spiders, “and their kin.” Honestly, there are more kinds of bees on there than you’d find at an overturned Pepsi truck on the highway.

And that is exactly the point of the National Wildlife Federation’s story about native pollinators. It turns out that the numerous native bees of North America may be among the answers to the pollination woes brought about by the decline of the European honeybee. In California alone there are more than 1,600 known species of native bees, and there may be over 4,000 species of bees and wasps in North America. That’s a lot of pollinating possibilities. 

But our native pollinators are at risk as well, through habitat and forage loss, pesticide use, and other troubles brought about by bees living wing to elbow with humans (a species, as you may have noticed, that is not in decline).

There’s good news. You, the human, can help native pollinators, and it’s not as hard as you might think. The National Wildlife story has tips that range from reducing your use of pesticides to becoming a “messy” gardener by leaving patches of unmulched soil and brush piles that pollinators can use for nests. (I wholeheartedly endorse and practice that advice).

And you can plant a bee-friendly garden. I like Urban Bee Gardens, a website with a whole hive full of information about bees and the gardens they love, including plant lists. And definitely read “In the Key of Bee,” in BayNature, for more information about bee gardens.

Or branch out and plant a garden that will attract may different types of pollinators—like butterflies, moths, bats, and birds. Pollinator.org has some nifty downloadable guides tailored to specific areas of North America.

Bee gardens aren't just altruistic pursuits. Gardening to help pollinators will also help your garden, and you’ll reap the benefits with better yields of fruits and vegetables.

Happy bee gardening!

By Elaine Johnson, Sunset associate food editor

Photos by Kimberley Burch, Elaine Johnson, and Margo True

We have a tough job here. Really. Well, maybe not so tough. We just raised our glasses to the spring harvest with a beautiful lunch featuring our own produce, eggs, Chardonnay, beer, and honey. Team Kitchen did the cooking.

Test kitchen coordinator Stephanie Dean and recipe editor Amy Machnak put the finishing touches on the table. In front, you can see Grilled carrots and green onions with fresh thyme.

 

 

We started with Favas and ricotta on homemade wheat crackers and Radishes with fresh butter and sea salt.

Art director Jim McCann and test garden coordinator Johanna Silver try the crackers.

 

That’s me in the middle sampling the Sunset Chardonnay. It’s really mellowed from the crisp green-apple character it was showing last summer. Now it’s a lovely, full aromatic white. (In fact, wine editor Sara Schneider is scheming to slip it into our upcoming Western Wine Awards to see how it fares.) Photo director Yvonne Stender is on the right. She and Johanna (on the left) might be making faces about the beer. Still bad news, like Crayola crayons. Noble effort, though.

 

Managing editor Alan Phinney, associate garden editor Julie Chair (left), and Sara Jamison liked the wine, too.

We sat down to a table of pinks and greens. The Strawberry-honey lemonade (the pink drink in the glasses) was so refreshing. Plus, the color matched Johanna’s garden flowers.

The bulls-eye Chioggia beets looked stunning on the mesclun salad.

 

We also feasted on Spring greens quiche (made this time with spinach, but also delicious with sautéed fava leaves) and Grilled carrots and green onions with fresh thyme.

 

For dessert, another taste of spring: Fromage blanc with strawberries and lemon honey.

It’s incredibly satisfying to eat good food that you’ve raised and cooked yourself.

Here’s the recipe for the lemonade. We’ll try to catch you up on the rest of the recipes in Sunset or in a future blog. Happy spring!

Strawberry lemonade

MAKES About 2 quarts

1 qt. strawberries
¾ cup honey
1 cup fresh lemon juice (from 5 to 6 lemons)
Ice

Whirl strawberries and honey in a blender until puréed. Pour through a fine strainer set over a bowl, rubbing to extract liquid; discard seeds. Stir in lemon juice and 1 qt. water. Pour over glasses filled halfway with ice.