Plant the Seeds of Tradition

Lucky Me! I married a man who came with a deep devotion to the home garden, handed down from his Italian parents and grandparents who grew food not just for consumption, but survival. The southern parts of Italy are wild and untamed areas. Living off the land was a necessity and a source of pride for my husband's people. Whatever they didn't grow themselves they either did without or found elsewhere, but not as readily as we do in America.
No super-giant-warehouse markets in those days; just a walk to the village to visit the outdoor mercato del villaggio where only seasonal and local foodstuffs were sold and always of the best quality. Many people in rural Italy still live like that today, and with the explosion of Slow Food, an organization born in Northern Italy that celebrates the pleasures of traditional and local foods, my husband's humble Calabrese heritage is suddenly quite in fashion.
Post-marriage in our new home just west of Boston, Big P. taught me how to grow a smattering of tomato plants in the summer months, along with some favorite herbs for fresh salads and cooking. We happily established our gardening routine and ate well but never thought too much about it. We did the work, which was minimal, and enjoyed it simply because it was delicious. And did I mention healthy? Yes, there are the nutritional benefits to growing your own food, but there is also something so relaxing and therapeutic about puttering around, caring for something that will care for you later when it's harvested.
Once our son made his entrance, my maternal instincts rushed up to the surface. I want the best for my child, and the best food is fresh and very often local. Why buy apples from Chile when the best McIntosh's are grown right here in Bolton, MA? Pick it up down the road or bust out the passport, what a choice. Call me crazy but I want my son to enjoy what food tastes like before it gets Frequent Flier miles.
The first summer when Little P. was 8 months old and ready to munch on beans, I planted some of my own. His fat fingers grabbed up some seeds to toss in the ground and the torch of family tradition stayed lit. The beans sprang up so quickly and with such vigor that I was encouraged to try different things, and then still more, and now on our fourth summer together I am rationing out yard space at a premium to accommodate everything we want to grow.
I start by making the furrow, divvy up some seeds and then we get them into the earth. He pig-piles seeds on top of each other while my husband and I neatly plant and surreptitiously re-spread some of his. We don't fret too much over the perfection of the planting, nature always seems to work it out. We mark our plots with a picture and the word for each plant; plastic plant markers with a permanent pen will last longest for the season. Little P. loves to finish by decorating his garden with favorite treasures; shells, rocks, cool sticks!
Then comes the unexpected pleasures of gardening with little ones. Every kid loves to water plants and themselves in the process and watch their little seed grow. To care for it and then have the opportunity to taste the fruits of their labor may be an almost lost skill, but one worth teaching your children.
We eat all this lovely produce with such ease because it is so accessible, just a step outside our door, make a quick pick and enjoy. No driving required. When a "picky eater" has come to play, we often find them in our back yard happily plucking up cherry tomatoes or popping peas. Pickiness forgotten because after all this is fun food, not forced food.
If you'd like to try this at home, I recommend easy growers like beans, peas, radishes, lettuces, beets, any of the chards and most herbs. All are fairly reliable and will generate big excitement when the first seedling pops up! Consult your local garden center or library for more, and very soon you too may be happily experiencing the ancient tradition of growing food for your own eating pleasure.