From Seed to Table

(Mom, Santa Monica beach 1970-something)

The first thing I recall planting are tulips with my mom in the front yard when I was 7 or 8. What I can't remember is whether or not they ever grew... My mom was the city girl to my dad's little bit of country. He has a remarkable green thumb (he manages to grow organic starfruit in California), which I not so secretly hope I've inherited, while my mom's gardening adventures once led to the emergency room. BUT on Mother's Day I remind her of only her strongest qualities.

Before the hero boyfriend and I made the Saccharin-y Hallmark holiday pilgrimage to see my 365 days a year wonderful mom, I reluctantly made my first attempt to harvest arugula seeds. After a minor concussion, late night soccer game and baking up two batches of homemade brownies just a dozen hours earlier I was feeling like a cranky (though not hostile) martyr. Since the world needs another martyr the same way it needs more particulate matter in the air I had no choice but to say, "Suck it up Urban Farm Girl."

Arugula. The President likes it. Who doesn't love the vitamin C and potassium laced peppery tasting leafy green? (I'm not sure about the statement regarding the President, it's just a vague campaign trail memory at this point, kind of like universal health care.) Arugula seeds come from arugula seed pods which grow from the arugula plant. So basically what I don't eat goes to seed and I'm guilted into efficiency. I mean, it's a recession (I don't care what you say National Bureau of Economic Research, it's still a recession) and I can't allow the next arugula harvest to go to waste because I'm desperate to go to the beach, surf and have a rum drink, right? RIGHT? Waste not, want not. Below, you'll find the abridged process in pictures. Being the lucky Urban Farm Girl that I am I have amazing help from the endlessly patient hero boyfriend and the chickens...even Kevin.

Lastly, my mom said, unprompted, at lunch today that she loves my arugula and continued to criticize iceberg lettuce for its lack of nutrients. She's been doing this my whole life, supporting my interests by educating herself on whatever silly, quasi-viable adventure I was embarking on. For almost 30 years she has encouraged me to fight for the things I believe in and chase the things I can't live without. I feel the most beautiful when I catch a glimpse of her in me. Thank you, mom, for bringing this seed to the table (without being a cranky martyr.) I'll be paying it forward my whole life. I love you.

Harvesting Arugula:


Sidewalk Garden Update:




Bok Choy









Mixed Greens










Red Onions









Tomatoes