Post last updated: August 13th, 2018
This cabbage is Early Jersey Wakefield. I had no idea it would pop out of the ground with such a bizarre-looking pointy head. I’ve got one foot on the banana peel that’s slipping towards geezerism but the existence of pointy headed cabbage was news to me. Honest. Momma knew about them but never bothered to enlighten me until I started complaining that half of my cabbage crop had gone mutant. She came stomping down to my veggie garden to see what was going on. It was then that I learned we have flat headed cabbage for cooking and pointy headed cabbage for coleslaw. However, a fair number of folks on the internet thought it was the other way around – flat heads for slaw; pointed for cooking. I don’t care who wins that argument. I want to know why I’ve shopped in the grocery stores for more years than I can count on my fingers and toes yet never saw anything but flat headed cabbage. The even larger question is this: how did I get to be so old and know so little?
The radicchio was the first mutant to show up in my winter garden. I actually emailed the seed company to inquire why my radicchio looked more like lettuce and the response involved something about needing colder temperatures. My neck of the woods has now experienced several nights of temperatures under 20 degrees and still the radicchio looks like lettuce.
I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that the seeds sprouting from my dirt don’t quite match my expectation. After all, I spread the greenbacks around when I shop for seeds. Some of the companies I order from go on seed hunting expeditions to backwater burgs at the edge of the earth. Then I order these exotic sounding seeds to play with new and interesting stuff despite the fact that “no photo is available.” Just today, I opened a package with a nursery certificate and several stickers proclaiming “may be opened for agricultural inspection.” Out tumbled seeds from Germany, South Africa and, of course, the back water burg at the edge of the world, Ichtheeluwookistan. If I disappear from these pages for more than a week, please send somebody to my plot of paradise to check on me. The exotic vegetables may be holding me hostage.