A soup with a healing ingredient that everyone in the garden should have

We’re kicking off this year’s gardening season with a new high bar. If you compare it to the bundles we already have, it’s double the size, so it’s two. We thought we’d call it a crown flower bed, but so many other things happened from idea to setup that it earned the name self-sufficient. We are no longer the gardeners who spend our spare time eating salads, but we have begun to grow vegetables for food. So out of necessity. With the new double beam, we will have ten small gardens, which should be enough for vegetables for two people.

Why the high beams?

High beams are easy to handle, accessible from all sides, easy to cover, protect and waterproof. For those with back pain, higher rays are best. Raised or elevated, it can be placed practically anywhere there is sufficient sunlight. I didn’t think I’d be able to place it so easily around a bourgeois garden with ornamental grasses. Sometimes I get caught up in the idea of ​​how a new photo of the garden will amaze the landscape designer who designed it. Twenty years ago, I did not feel the need to grow vegetables, today I feel the need. I try to think responsibly and place my needs in the wooden frame of the new raised beam in our garden.

Chirping birds are self-sufficient and are by no means a novelty. It’s time to think about where and how to grow what I get in the plate. Self-sufficiency also means looking around, connecting with others and finding ways to ensure a comfortable life without a shopping cart. I picked the ingredients for today’s recipe from the garden. The cabbage that fed us in the winter is now receding. Among them was the largest plant, the dark green leaves of which are completely purple at the edges. The leaves are hard, the stems are fibrous, the taste is not special, just suitable for a modest soup.

I’m still on my fasting days, and prone to mild anxiety when I think about the future.

Can you grow anything on your own? Not for the garden? Don’t know how to grow plants? education gap. We have a lot of them, like holes of ignorance. How to sew pants, fix a bike, find something edible in nature, (re)treat yourself naturally, and make a fire. I didn’t learn it in school, but I peeled on the bench for about sixteen years. There is no time to think about the past, the nose needs to be pointed forward, the chin lifted and some things for life learned that may come in handy soon. Now that I’m writing this, I’m seriously considering ordering another high beam from a carpenter.

You can also use this recipe to make firmer leaves from plain or Tuscan turnip.

Rashtika in humble soup

  • 300 grams of radish
  • Onions
  • A few cloves of garlic
  • oil
  • Salt and Pepper
  • 1 teaspoon ground pepper (smoked gives the best taste)
  • little bit of chili
  • 1 teaspoon of apple cider vinegar
  • Pickled dried tomatoes (optional)


1. Prepare the leaves by cutting the stems and leaf veins. Roll up the leaves and cut into wide strips, then into squares. Chop onions and garlic separately.

2. Soften the onions in the oil, add garlic and when smelling, add salt, pepper, paprika and cayenne pepper. Pour hot water immediately. In the saucepan, whisk the rustica slices and cook for an hour. Near the end of cooking, acidify and, if desired, add sliced ​​sun-dried tomatoes.

3. Serve rashtika as a humble soup. You can dry it and add it to some other dishes as a side dish. It is customary to serve a cup of pure rashtika soup alongside it.

We also recommend: a slightly different legendary lunch: mashed potatoes, eggs on the eye, and something better instead of spinach

Beba and Hana Splichal

The kitchen is the heart of the home and the most important things that happen in the heart. Our vegan, eco, and waste-free kitchen is small, but has a large table and a garden door. Hana cooks, photos and talks with wild yeast, the child writes everything, down to the smallest details. Aromas of Indian spices, warm bread and fresh recipes.

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