Late Summer's Tomato Haul

Photo: Chronica Domus

It's late summer and the tomatoes in my garden have been superb this year.  Funny thing is, I've practically ignored the poor things believing I had picked the last plump and tasty fruit weeks ago.  It turns out, I have been wonderfully mistaken.

Surely, this must be the final clump of tomatoes of the growing season, right?
Photo: Chronica Domus

Not counting on benign neglect to be such a growth booster, my family and I have been hauling in the (we think) last flush of tomatoes for the past two weeks.  They just keep coming and coming.  I stopped watering the plants weeks ago which has only served to sweeten the bounty would you believe.  Perhaps that is what the pros call 'dry farming'.  Whatever it is that is going on, this gentlewoman gardener is just glad for it.

These large egg-shaped fruits are Japanese Black Trifele tomatoes, 

picked when their shoulders turn green

Photo: Chronica Domus

Do you remember last year's tomato post and the White Current heirloom tomatoes I grew?
Well, here they are again, all volunteers!
Photo: Chronica Domus

As you can well imagine, the kitchen has been abuzz with activity centered around our ongoing tomato harvest.

Tomato sauce made with a mixture of the Japanese Black Trifeles and the White Current tomatoes
Photo: Chronica Domus



Romano beans purchased at the farmers' market cooked in ...yes, you guessed it
(I used French heirloom tomatoes St. Pierre which did not yield as much fruit
as the Japanese variety I grew this year)
Here's the recipe from the New York Times
Photo: Chronica Domus

And what would summer be without setting aside some tomatoes for everyone's favorite salad?
Photo: Chronica Domus

A classic Caprese salad made with homegrown heirloom Black Cherry
and White Current tomatoes, both varieties were, happily, harvested from volunteer plants this year
Photo: Chronica Domus

Aside from all the cooking, one of the greatest pleasures of having such a bountiful garden is sharing our crop with good neighbor friends.  I hear reports that my friend Jeannette's young daughter is an avid consumer of tomatoes and she rates the White Currents as particularly sweet.  Sweet for the sweet, isn't that what they say?

Do you have a favorite variety of tomato you look forward to eating during the summer months?  How about any good recipes or ideas on how to use my excessive bounty?  I'd be very pleased to hear about them if so.

What's Blooming Inside: In Praise of Heirloom Sweet Peas

It has been said many times over that a picture paints a thousand words.  However, as I contentedly find myself captivated by Lathyrus odoratus, that most delicious of summer's blooms, I ask myself how it could possibly be fair to share a mere picture with you.  Or, for that matter, few words.

Photo: Chronica Domus

The humble sweet pea happens to be my favorite summer flower.  It helps, of course, that summers in the San Francisco Bay Area rarely ever sizzle; sweet peas loathe excessive heat.  On most days, the thermometer hovers around the agreeable lower- to middle-70's range.  All of this, of course, makes me a fortunate girl as I am able to enjoy a bountiful flower haul throughout the entire summer season and into early autumn.

I adore sweet peas so much that I would like to propose a new holiday in their honor, National Sweet Pea Day.  On this day, the ephemeral and beguiling beauty of Lathyrus odoratus will be praised and celebrated throughout the land. Gardeners will clip the flowers from their tangled vines to bring indoors by the basketful.  And, for those fellow admirers who lack either a garden or a green thumb, a trip to a local florist or market to procure a bunch to bring home will be the order of the day.

If you derive as much pleasure from this old-fashioned garden staple as I do, you'll be satisfied in the knowledge that the pretty undulating blooms should be clipped with regularity.  I can think of no other plant that replenishes its flowers as swiftly as the sweet pea.  It is nothing short of horticultural magic!  Happily, one's garden shears are pressed into service on an almost daily basis during summer's flush.

Lathyrus odoratus Cupani's Original (circa 1699) basking in the June sun

Photo: Chronica Domus

The sweet pea vines as photographed on a foggy day back in late June ...

Photo: Chronica Domus

... and yesterday, mid-August, still going strong

Photo: Chronica Domus

Daily cutting encourages a profusion of blooms

Photo: Chronica Domus

Once indoors, sweet peas should be arranged in vessels and vases and the posies placed about the house. The simple act of doing so provides me with the greatest of pleasure.  It is a rite of summer I look forward to undertaking each and every year.

Ah heaven!... how I wish I could share the exquisite perfume wafting from these blooms with you

Photo: Chronica Domus  

Every room, no matter its size or decoration, will surely be enhanced by the delicate beauty and scent put forth by these posies.  At least, that is, if you select wisely and cultivate the old-fashioned heirloom varieties.  Some may argue that the daintier pink and white blooms of Painted Lady (circa  1730) for example, or those of Lathyrus odoratus America, a rich raspberry-red and white striped example dating back to 1896 are not as showy or as large as modern hybrids.  On that score, I am in agreement.  However, these are among the many older sweet pea strains I favor and believe to be far superior not only in their form and beauty, but in their scrumptious scent, an attribute so often lacking in modern sweet peas.  Why deny yourself one of nature's most luscious and exuberant scents I say!

As I meandered through the house this past Sunday afternoon, while snapping away with my camera to bring you the images you see below, it was as though I was being carried away upon a fruit and spice scented cloud.  Each room was saturated with that oh-so exquisitely delicious fragrance unique to older sweet peas.  I won't even pretend to do justice to the scent with mere words.  You'll just have to believe me when I tell you the agreeable air in those rooms could rival that of any fancy perfumery.  

A bedside posy to sweeten the air and delight the eye

Photo: Chronica Domus

A vase on the kitchen counter brimming with resplendent purple and violet sweet peas
Photo: Chronica Domus

A diminutive posy of pink and cream, and a lone striated Lathyrus odoratus America bloom, is placed upon a table in the corner of the drawing room ... 

Photo: Chronica Domus

... and its twin posy is perched atop the secretary bookcase to enliven an 

otherwise quiet corner

Photo: Chronica Domus

It is now midway through August and I've been clipping at the gangly sweet pea vines since late-June.  The blooms, I am pleased to report, exhibit no sign of dwindling just yet. Over the coming weeks I anticipate the good fortune of filling my vases with many more splendid stalks of Cupani's Original, America, Painted Lady, and other heirloom strains I planted in the spring.  

Late-afternoon summer light rakes across a sweet pea arrangement

Photo: Chronica Domus

Won't you please join me in planting a packet or two of these older types of sweet peas in your garden over the coming year?  I highly recommend an Old-Spice mix for heat resistance and, of course, for an abundant yield of colorful fragrant blooms.  You will then be ready to celebrate that much longed-for future holiday, National Sweet Pea Day.  Now, isn't that a day worthy of a celebration?

Betwixt The Seasons

There is something so endearing about this time of year here in Northern California.  The dregs of summer are barely holding on in the garden with the last few tomatoes clinging to the withering vines, and a final clutch of cheery summer nasturtiums offering themselves up for gathering just as autumn creeps upon us.

Summer's last nasturtiums gathered this morning and placed in an earthenware
vessel to brighten up the kitchen

Photo: Chronica Domus

Sweet White Currant tomatoes holding on for dear life

Photo: Chronica Domus

The subtle signs of autumn play 'peek-a-boo' with the foliage.  Look here!  The first wisteria leaflet splashed in warming shades of amber.

Aha, a turning leaf upon the climbing wisteria ...

Photo: Chronica Domus

... and here's another, signaling autumn's arrival

Photo: Chronica Domus

It's funny to celebrate the colors of these few turning leaves when I think back on childhood memories of knee-deep piles of them, blown across from the woodland, only to settle in the front garden. There were many October Saturday mornings spent raking seemingly endless piles of oak leaves into the wheelbarrow in the company of my two younger sisters and my father.  We made a game of it so that what would otherwise have been a wearisome task became a fun but exhausting rite of autumn.

Of course, that special golden light that rakes across our house in the afternoon is yet another undeniable signal that autumn is here.  The intensely saturated sunsets too have been nothing short of spectacular as of late.  I captured this one a few weeks ago on our travels home across the Bay.

Photo: Chronica Domus

And, although our daytime temperatures are mild at present, I am certain all of that will soon come to an end.  Last night was the first night I felt as though I needed a blanket to get me through the cooler night air.

How is it where you live?  Are you betwixt the seasons or did autumn arrive on cue with the calendar, in the latter part of September?  Please, do tell me.

A Visit To Hyde Hall

Photo: Chronica Domus

Secreted away within Glimmerglass State Park's rolling woodland, and just at the edge of picturesque Otsego Lake, you'll find one of America's finest neoclassical country houses, and one which I had the distinct pleasure of visiting earlier this summer.

As you can see from the photograph above, although Hyde Hall could easily be mistaken for a nobleman's pile set deep within the English or Irish countryside, this splendid nineteenth century limestone house does indeed sit prettily in upstate New York, just eight miles from Cooperstown.  To be perfectly fair, Hyde Hall does have a strong association with England as the man who built it, George Clarke (1768-1835), was indeed English.  The architect, Philip Hooker, hailed from nearby Albany.

Built between 1817 - 1834 with inherited money from his namesake great grandfather, George Clarke turned Hyde Hall into the crown jewel of his sprawling 120,000 acre estate.  Successive generations of the Clarke family, many of them also named George, lived happily in the house until the 1940's. In 1955, Thomas Hyde Clarke (b. 1936) inherited the estate but failed to keep it in the family when the state of New York claimed the house and 600 surrounding acres by eminent domain so as to create a state park.  Shockingly, with no funds available for the house's upkeep, demolition loomed.  If it were not for the tireless efforts of The Friends of Hyde Hall, a group which formed in 1964 to save the house and make it available for the enjoyment of the public, Hyde Hall would most certainly not have survived.  What a travesty that would have been!  Today, Hyde Hall is a National Historic Landmark and is open to visitors from the end of May through October.

Photo: Chronica Domus

Our mid-morning tour began at this charming 1820's structure known as the Tin Top Gatehouse. Originally located at the entrance of Glimmerglass State Park, the gatehouse was moved to its current location in 1974 and has benefited from recent restoration efforts to convert it to a visitor center.  It was here that we met our guide, Gary, who delighted in showing us around the house and its grounds.

Say hello to Gary our erudite guide

Photo: Chronica Domus

What I really enjoyed most about poking around this enormous mansion, and what sets it apart from many other historic house museums I have visited, is that Hyde Hall is far from being "done up", by any stretch of the imagination, and that's just fine with me.  As one who enjoys and appreciates the painstakingly involved processes of restoration and renovation, and all the minutiae revolving around such ventures, it was a rare treat to have an opportunity of viewing first-hand the numerous projects currently underway throughout the house.  

Hyde Hall's entry door is flanked by four enormous columns

Photo: Chronica Domus

Let's start at the front door.  Unfortunately, I missed photographing the tilted bollards either side of the entrance steps as I could not wait to cross the iron threshold.  Obviously, my photo-journalistic skills are in great need of improvement.  In my defense, my enthusiasm to see Hyde Hall did, I admit, get the better of me. Gary explained that the bollards prevented chipping and damage to the limestone from the procession of carriages that deposited the family and their guests at the front door. In turn, the bollards themselves are tilted inwards, thereby preventing damage to the carriages' wheel hubs.

Once inside, I was so distracted and absorbed by the many details of the entrance hall that I immediately fell behind our little tour group of five as I snapped away with my camera.  As such, I failed to take detailed photographs of the drawing room. Oops!

The Scottish drum-head tall case clock makes a bold statement in the entrance hall

Photo: Chronica Domus

Another splendid detail of the entrance hall is this recently installed, over-sized, early-nineteenth century Argand lantern, restored to perfection and mounted on a pulley for ease of lighting

Photo: Chronica Domus

Although costly Brussels carpets or other floor coverings are nowhere in sight, one must obviously do one's best to remove mud from one's boots upon entering the house, done with the aid of a portable iron boot scrape and a rather charming long-handled bristle contraption

Photo: Chronica Domus

The only photograph I managed to take of the drawing room, as I raced to catch up with Gary and the group, was the image you see below showing one of a pair of fanciful gilded valances likely made by Lawton Annesley of Albany, New York, a dealer in mirrors and picture frames.  The ceilings in this room are a neck-cracking nineteen feet high.  One can only imagine how many yards of fabric were required to make the curtains for this room.

Acanthus and anthemion motifs give off a distinctly Greek vibe to this
beautifully carved and gilded valance

Photo: Chronica Domus

On the other side of the entrance hall is the grand dining room.  As you can see, the room is in the midst of an extensive renovation project so all the furniture, which is original to the house, was under wraps.

The two vapor-light chandeliers, purchased in 1833, dominate the dining room

Photo: Chronica Domus

A large part of the project focuses around the restoration of the walls, specifically the removal of the Victorian color scheme.  In a historic house such as Hyde Hall this involves much more work than simply painting over an unwanted color.

Here's what the dining room looked like before the restoration project began

Source

With the addition of sparkly mica and black pigment mixed into a lime wash, the room will again appear as it did in 1830.  The resulting wall surface should match the marbleized original finish of the nearby drawing room and entrance hall walls.

Photo: Chronica Domus

A view of the dining room's window shutters draped with protective plastic sheeting
Photo: Chronica Domus

Hyde Hall is so large that I had a difficult time keeping track of the floor plan.  From what I could determine the main house, known as the Great House, the section into which we entered, is just one of three which comprise the whole.  The Great House was built between 1828 - 1833 and includes the entertaining rooms of Hyde Hall.  The oldest part of the house, built in 1817, was once a free-standing south facing stone structure.  That section of the house includes the family living quarters which spans ten rooms. The third part of the house is where the service quarters and second floor bedrooms are located.  Over time, as Hyde Hall was extended, a central courtyard emerged. Here it is, seen in the photograph below:

The central courtyard can be glimpsed through the window of the smaller family dining room
which is in the original 1817 part of the house

Photo: Chronica Domus

A stylish solution to heating the family dining room

Photo: Chronica Domus

I was smitten with the dozen armchairs and side chairs found in the family dining room, 

carved with a pretty leaf motif and made by John Meads, a leading local cabinetmaker, in 1819

Photo: Chronica Domus

As the name implies, the family dining room is where the family ate their everyday meals.  The room is a far more intimate space than the grand dining room.  Notice too that unlike the rooms of the Great House, with their marbleized walls which give off a rather chilly appearance, this room is painted in a warm apricot color.  I like the family dining room because of  the way it is furnished, and for the beautiful window which looks out onto the central courtyard.  I also think the view into the room, which I captured below, is particularly appealing thanks in no small part to the handsome fanlight.  One is instinctively drawn to the light-filled room after travelling along a dark and narrow corridor.

I loved the fanlight atop the door which leads into the small family dining room

Photo: Chronica Domus

I can't quite recall how I ended up behind the family dining room but once there, I was tempted to rest for a moment at this lovely little table where a game of backgammon was in progress:

The backgammon board appears to be fashioned in the form of a book

Photo: Chronica Domus

Truly lost within the maze of rooms at this stage of the tour, I believe the next room I stumbled into was George Clarke's office.  Here it is complete with some "updates":

A view into George Clarke's office

Photo: Chronica Domus

Notice the heavy Tudoresque ceiling beams installed by a later descendant of George Clarke
and quite out of period to the rest of the architecture in the 1817 portion of the house
Photo: Chronica Domus

Wandering past other rooms, including a chapel, formerly Mrs. Clarke's bed chamber and sitting room, we found this pretty and airy room.

A cozy spot for tea in front of the outer library's fireplace

Photo: Chronica Domus

One of a pair of restored Argand lamps that flank the outer library's mantelshelf

Photo: Chronica Domus

This room is part of a two-room library where twin banks of mahogany bookcases stand.  These were commissioned by George Clarke from a local cabinetmaker.

This is one of two green baize-fronted mahogany bookcases which grace the inner and outer libraries, made by cabinetmaker Thaddeus Lacy, circa 1820 - 1821, in nearby Cooperstown

Photo: Chronica Domus

These rooms, whose walls are painted in a cheery apple-green tone, are flooded with natural light which might explain why the bookcases are fronted with green baize.  As you can imagine, owning a sizable collection of leather-bound books must have cost a pretty penny in Mr. Clarke's day so their protection was paramount to both their enjoyment and longevity.

Again, the layout of this house has proved entirely perplexing to my recollections but onto the service wing we go.

This is one of my favorite views of the interior of Hyde Hall

Photo: Chronica Domus

To access the upstairs bed chambers, one must ascend this lovely tiger maple wooden staircase with its newly installed ingrain carpet.

Photo: Chronica Domus

The glorious detail of the tiger maple staircase was not lost on me

Photo: Chronica Domus

Once upstairs the jumble of rooms became a blur to my excited mind.  All hope of photographically recording any of it was lost when our guide took our small group into the bed chamber, located above the Great House's portico. This is what I saw:

The supremely beautiful and tranquil view from the bed chamber
whose railing was made by Amos Fish of Albany, New York in 1833

Photo: Chronica Domus

Surely, this was Arcadia.  All I could think of doing was pulling up a chair and breathing in the stunning vista before me. Is it any wonder Mr. Clarke selected this remote spot, at the edge of Otsego Lake and the wooded hills beyond, to build his magnificent house?

My poor husband had to nudge me out of the room when it was time to resume the final portion of our tour, so transfixed was I by the view.  Ah well, down the stairs we go.

Looking down the main staircase showing the elliptical half-curves of its design - interestingly, several of the balusters are grained and painted to resemble the handrail's mahogany wood

Photo: Chronica Domus

I'm not sure where this delightful curved door leads, positioned beneath the main
staircase, but I desperately wanted to peek inside

Photo: Chronica Domus

The service quarters of Hyde Hall were brimming with exciting developments.  It is here that much work is underway to restore the kitchen and housekeeper's room to how it appeared in 1835.

Is there anything more thrilling to behold than the sight of equipment being readied 

for an army of plasterers and carpenters to work their magic?

Photo: Chronica Domus

An adjoining room being readied for restoration

Photo: Chronica Domus

The room you see below, which held the family's china and porcelain - some of which would normally reside on the dining table of the great dining room but has been mothballed until that restoration project is complete - was lined with the most charmingly detailed shelving.

What a beautiful profile!

Photo: Chronica Domus

I spy pieces of old Paris Porcelain in among the pewter plates

Photo: Chronica Domus

Oh how I too could benefit from an entire room dedicated to the storage of  

overflowing collections of dining accoutrements

Photo: Chronica Domus

Alas, finding our way back into the entrance hall heralded the conclusion of our visit. This had certainly been a fascinating amble through a house that is steadily reverting to the beacon of beauty she had so long ago been.  I look forward to an encore visit once the dust has settled.

Photo: Chronica Domus

Do please consider stopping by Hyde Hall the next time you find yourself in the Cooperstown, New York area. The formidable efforts of those responsible for the ongoing restoration of this historic house should be commended.  It really is rather special.

Hyde Hall
267 Glimmerglass State Park
Cooperstown
New York, 13326