I planted my first crop of the year today, and it’s an experiment:  Okra!

I LOVE Okra.  Well, I should say that I love fried Okra.  There aren’t really many other ways that I like it, though a few pieces in a little gumbo never hurt me.  You can occasionally find it up here, but it is outrageously expensive.

Now this certainly isn’t Africa- Okra’s homeland- and it isn’t Alabama (which is a heck of a lot closer to Africa than Massachusetts!), but I’m going to try my hardest to grow some this year.  Any of you New Englanders ever try growing it?  Was it a failure?

I started three varieties today- Alabama and Cowhorn, two heirloom varieties that were sent to me last year by my dear friend Liz who works at a historic site in South Carolina with a big heirloom garden (she sent me lots of other goodies too, and I can’t wait to get them planted!) and also a mystery variety that I got in Howling Hill’s seed swap.   HH, do you know what variety they were?  I think I was the first stop off of your seed swap this year, so they must have come from you!

So they are sitting pretty in my window sill- we’ll see how they do.  I may have even planted them too early.  Daddy tells me that he direct sows his in May (which means it is already steadily in the 80s and 90s but here it is still coolish).  I did save seeds of each variety in case it doesn’t work but I do hope it does.  Even if I can get one big handful of freshly fried Okra, I’ll consider it a success!

I’m all for eating local and preserving local foodscapes, but this seems a little extreme, no?

At least it’s Italy, I guess.  Imagine it being Scotland and everyone forced to eat Haggis and Black Pudding all the time.