I do really well with cherry tomatoes, so I always have at least 5 plants going during the season. I also like growing kind of unusual colored varieties like the Berkley Tie-dye ( I think it's called). I live right on a coastline so the temperature is pretty mild all year, as long as I plant them in a really sunny spot they'll last well into the fall sometimes.
Aw, the Berkeley Tie Dyes are such pretty tomatoes - I just haven't had good luck with them. I suspect my backyard conditions are fundamentally out of step with Brad Gates' breeding program, since he's focused on plants robust to his local experience of climate change. With the exception of Solar Flare, I find his introductions struggle with mealiness and late blight.
Here, we've been enjoying salad greens from the cold frames for a while, and I was able to harvest a scant handful of ramps from my slowly-expanding ramps patch to braise in oil and serve over homemade spaghetti. Maybe in a hundred years I'll have enough for ramp butter, or ramp pesto, or just a big mess of stewed ramps over cornbread. One can dream.
This year, I planted sugar snap peas and snow peas a little earlier than usual in an attempt to spread out spring garden tasks, and they've just been sort of hanging around waiting for the soil to warm up. I don't think it saved me any time - because I planted before weeds came up, I had to not only prep the bed but also go back and weed, when usually this is accomplished in one step.
Now that nights are not so cold, rhubarb and fuki are taking off - they're both "spring tonic" vegetables, which is a polite way of saying they'll give you the shits if you eat too many of them, so I've been trying to share them with neighbors who have no idea what they are and don't want them!
A former roommate recently told me that, where her family is from in Japan, Hosta are also considered one of the "mountain vegetables" people look forward to going out and foraging in the springtime. So I picked a bunch of shoots from whatever Hostas around the yard were established enough to withstand harvesting and tried them out. The standout variety was
H. montana, which turned out to be a traditional culinary plant that is now mostly used as an ornamental. Sometimes it shows up very cheap in the garden centers at big box stores around here. None of the ones I tried were bad, though. They all taste sort of like a cross between asparagus and a mild onion, with some being more asparagus-forward and vice versa. I liked the furled shoots best picked fresh and cooked right away in a fast pan, like you'd do with skillet asparagus.
In the fall, I'm probably going to split up my
H. montana clump and plant a row of Hosta just for eating along the shady side of my vegetable garden. Ever since we moved here, I haven't been able to figure out where to put an asparagus patch. Rather than struggling to make asparagus grow under marginal conditions, I'm so pleased to stumble on an alternative that's beautiful and delicious and also likes it here.