The Accidental Gardener: A Tale of Uncertainties

I was always fond of plants, but now I'm buying them the way some people scoop up detergent or panty hose on sale. We've acquired approximately nine plants since we moved in, plus the avocado seed I'm trying to grow. I did what has worked in the past: dump the seed in lukewarm water in a coffee cup, so that half of it is above water, and set it in the sun. Lo! The seed shows signs of germinating, namely splitting halfway down the middle, dramatically. If I'm lucky a thin green stalk will be sticking out of the seed some morning soon. 

I bought a bag of potting soil at the local Edeka, stuff that claimed it was good for all balcony and house plants, and I re-potted a few that were getting a bit cramped in their original pots. I didn't notice the smell until later: fertilizer? As in, cow manure? Whatever was wafting strongly across the living room sure stank. Meanwhile, the avocado seed's already dug its little heels into the dirt, and I hope is satisfied. This all-purpose soil might not be "loamy" enough; let's hope it doesn't give our little plant high blood pressure. Here's how things look at present:

According to the package, however, there's nothing but "plant" or composted plant material in that earth. "Just wait a few days," said a friend, "the smell will go away." Or I could add more coffee grounds--they're just filled with nutrients!--to camouflage the odor. 

 Here are some of the avocado seed's neighbors: a sweet little lemon tree, a sturdy cactus, and a God Knows What thingie with pink buds that seems happy on the sunny windowsill:

The lemon tree was advertised as having a "lovely aroma." We could sure use a lovely aroma around here, but maybe the lemons (which are still green and slowly turning yellow) aren't strong enough to produce it yet. Lemon tree, very pretty . . . 

Here are a few of the larger members of the clan:

And here's the one making us keep the balcony door open most of the time!

And a few of the ones needing, theoretically, less light. The rubber tree got a little sunburned before I put it here . . .  one leaf started going orange. 

I love plants, and had thought they'd help with the cigarette smoke wafting through the walls from our partying (alas in the time of COVID) neighbors. Maybe they do, maybe they do. They are delightful to look at and yes, following Prince Charles's lead, I chat with them. They never answer, of course, but I imagine that they perk up.

Boomer Vegan Curry

Even a boomer like me, who can't give up milk, cream, and the occasional chicken with crispy skin, goes for emergent cuisines. I like to combine the ease of Betty Crocker with the palate of the modern age. Although I am perfectly capable of assembling my own set of spices, I found this product handy:

But of course a bottled curry is rarely as zingy as I want it, so I added more of some key ingredients, namely coriander and garlic, garlic, garlic. The other ingredients, potatoes, red and orange bell peppers, red onions and carrots, enjoyed a brief stir-fry before I mooshed in the curry paste, the extra coriander and a dash of cumin. I can't remember whether I threw in grated ginger, but you can never go wrong with grated ginger. After all was nicely mixed, I stirred in 400 ml (around 14 oz) of creamy coconut milk:

I let the mixture bubble, bubble, boil with no trouble before turning it down to a brief simmer and serving it over red cargo rice. Pairs nicely with red wine: 

The nice thing about curry is its inexactitude. Only have an eight-ounce can of coconut milk? That's okay. Add a little vegetable broth. In fact, add that anyway. You can add it dry to the fourteen-ounces of coconut milk or reconstituted in boiling water to the eight ounces of coconut milk. Or perhaps you prefer less coconut milk anyway. But I love the stuff. Could swim in it. 

A tasty desert after this meal: candied ginger with the last of the wine.