7.16.2005
The Monsanto Within UPDATED with a picture
So, what do you get when a pumpkin cuddles up to a zuccini (or a yellow crook-neck, I'm afraid my pumpkin was a teensy bit slutty last summer) and lets nature (and Marvin Gaye) take its course? You get a plant that starts out looking like a zuccini and then begins growing legs, then arms, then second heads -- lime green second heads that appear within hours, swelling almost visibly, as snaky tendril arms begin sweeping in the plants to be devoured with audible gulps. It's a bit unnerving. We've created a monster. Our mutant baby is paying us back by smothering all it's tomato baby brothers and pepper little sisters. The problem is that the lime green growths are just so damn good. Pumpkin-scented zuccini flesh, sweet and mild. Cooks up beautifully. Too bad we're not sure who the father is.
We didn't do this on purpose. We special-ordered organic heirloom squash, tomato, and pepper seeds. We carefully nurtured the seedlings all spring, dreaming of the organic, heirloom babyfood these seedlings were going to become. Then when we went out to till the garden: "Oh look, a volunteer squash plant of some sort. How cute! Let's till it under!" Ah, but this little mutant (oh, excuse me, HYBRID) is clever. It just happened to be growing around the one tree root cutting through our garden plot. So it was spared, and we planted in the soft, fertile soil around it. And all our precious plants immediately died. Coincidence? I'm not convinced. We were so depressed about the carnage that we didn't have the heart to pull up the one plant that was thriving even though we'd heard about the dangers of cross-pollination. We replanted in a spirit of harmony with the native inhabitant. For a while all was peaceful. The newcomers began to thrive. Then the hostile take-over began.
I'm torn. We paid a lot for the plants that Mutant Squash is determinedly eating. But at least something is producing in my garden this year. Maybe Mutant Squash will be sated after a few sacrifices, a couple of days of pushing the other plants around (yes, all the agression has happened only these last few days) showing them who's boss. Maybe not.
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This cracks me up. I'd love to see pictures!
Side Note: The lights rock ass...they really do...and we don't even live in Canada.
The reportage of the FL crime depressed me too much to speak to it..but..
Love your squash tale...I must say I was greatly relieved that I planted no squash - so Mr. Constoluto...my first and oh, so closely observed and dearly loved Constoluto Genovese heirloom tomato - on whose bunchy broad shoulders remains just the faintest green tinge (I'd say one good day of hot sun and he's on a pillow of fresh mozzarella with some shredded basil and a splash of O Aged Balsamic) and his friends Pink Brandywine, Yellow Pear and Cherokee Purple are safe...big whew here...I didn't get 800 mosquito bites planting those f-ers to have some gate-crasher with an attitude rob the soil of my babies' birthrite of its nutrients...even if it did have blossoms that were oh so yummy stuffed with goat cheese and chives, dipped in tempura batter and fried....well, maybe I could fit...NO...I stand firm...I am GLAD there is no squash.......sigh....
Our cherokee purple has so far escaped engulfment. Our yellow pear was a casualty of the first wave but the lemon boy is doing fine. We actually still have 11 tomatoes struggling under the seige and I plan to be firm tomorrow. You know I keep hearing about the deliciousness of squash blossoms -- in that they both taste good and act as birth control... Perhaps I should experiment.
Anne, as per your request, I will dig out the digital tomorrow and post pictures from the war zone.
Too entertaining Trista ... I love it!!
I came on this by accident looking for a recipe for fried squash blossoms. I am so glad ... you put a smile on my face amd on my heart. Thank you
Penny