We Like-us a Ficus

If you've been to Ginkgo or have followed the blog, you know how excited we are about our fig trees.  Folks constantly tell us, "I've never seen a fresh fig" or ask, "How do they survive the Chicago winter?" Of all the fruits and vegetables that we grow, the figs are undoubtedly the most bizarre (sorry gooseberries).  I'm careful in picking the superlative because all of our produce is interesting–carrots have a deep (pun intended) history; the cruciferous plants (kale, broccoli, cabbage, radish, turnips, etc.), all relatives of the same original plant, can call to each other from bed to bed to catch up on family news; the Mammoth Sunflowers produce extraordinary growth; the tomatoes... THE TOMATOES! But the figs are just bizarre.

Each year we dig a large trench in the ground, swaddle the trees, and tip them into the holes. We cover the holes with plywood, then mound soil and straw on top to insulate the trees for the winter.  In the spring we resurrect them and stand in astonishment by how much they grow.

This year one of our trees, is already underground, but the other, dubbed Persephone, is too large to bury.  We have been looking for solutions and have considered wrapping the tree above ground. The other plan, and our likely choice, is to divide the tree.

Our trees are from divisions. A gentleman, Mario, gave us these divisions and they have rooted and grown tremendously at Ginkgo. Essentially, we would cut Persephone in half, giving each half plenty of root structure. One half would go into a pot of soil and eventually be given to a friend.  The other half would be buried for the winter.

This surgery is common, but we would be taking a chance and we don't have much experience with the procedure. I had come to believe that these trees really enjoy growing and that they will forgive us for errant cuts.

This is what we did last Saturday, and we hope you can come out this Saturday to help with Persephone.

Lids for the compost bins being constructed by an awesome team of volunteers

As they say

If you don't like the weather in Chicago, just wait ten minutes.  On Saturday May 18th I got a sunburn.  On Saturday May 25th I did not.  It was cold.  The fingers of our dedicated volunteers were also cold.  This did not prevent them from harvesting four pounds of chives and a medley of other herbs for our very first delivery of the year! 

 

We collected four pounds of chives with plenty more for future harvests.

Can you spot our mystery volunteer?  A regular who has no problem helping with the harvest? 

 

While the temperature plummeted this week, we don't seem to have fallen into a frost.  This is good news (I swear that I'm not counting chickens yet) for our fruit trees.  Last year's sudden late season frost did a number on apple crops across the Midwest.  Right now our trees appear laden with growing fruit.

Apple trees, pruned during dormancy, full of fruit.

Who can resist the appeal of a baby plum?  They are so cute at this age.

These apples deserve their own post... so if you need to know about this variety before then, drop by the garden and ask someone.

 

 

And the figs are growing and fruiting healthily too.  

 

Volunteers use leftover fence wood to cover a large divot left from Persephone's tomb.

I might be most excited by the buds and flowers on the red raspberries.

 Then again...
  

A lot of credit has to be given to the volunteers that pushed themselves to the garden on a day that warranted despondent checking and rechecking of weather apps.  Maybe it's the radishes that are about to pop out of the soil like inflating party balloons, but these are sunny people.  

The again...  The hard work and harvesting of our mystery volunteer, who is no doubt adorable and probably weighs less than a Purple Calabash tomato, continues all throughout week.  Which is why we have chicken wire.

Our Figgest Day of the Year!

A lot of exciting things happen at Ginkgo, but perhaps the most spectacular is the annual unearthing of the fig trees.  On May 11th our volunteers set to work digging gingerly and bringing the trees back up into daylight.

For those that are unclear, let's review:

Figs like ours are typically found in the Mediterranean where the winters are mild and no one puts lawn chairs in parking spots that they spent 45 minutes shoveling out.  We insulate our figs against this harsh winter by burying the trees around Halloween.  We wrap the trees, dig a large hole beside each one, dig around the root balls and tip the trees down into the holes while trying to maintain the long, vital, tap root.  Following this, we lay something sturdy (plywood) across the hole and cover it with soil to keep an insulated even temperature in the chamber below ground.  We then dig up the trees in spring, water and wait for delicious fruit.

During this process last fall we had to make a rather drastic cut to the tap root of our larger fig tree in order to bend it into the ground.  There is a lot of anticipation concerning the consequences of that cut, but when we dug it up, there were signs that the tree was going to make it.  Fruit continued to grow, even below ground, and new growth was evident.

The meretricious draw of figs should be enough to lure you to the garden this season, but until they have begun to fruit, our lilacs will drive you wild.