Cute tiny leaves, vibrant green color, a load of fresh vitamins, and a pleasant taste. Ready to be eaten in a few days. Do you want it? Grab a bowl, a few paper tissues, a few spoons of water and let’s plant garden cress!
This is one of the simplest plants you can grow at home and eat in a week or two after planting. Or you can let it grow and enjoy it whole season. Garden cress is a relative of mustard and can be used in any stage. You can harvest the first leaves, a grown plant, and use the seeds as a seasoning as well. Cress has a peppery and tangy taste and goes well with a countless number of dishes. You can sprinkle it on a slice of bread with butter, toss into a salad, cook in a soup… the small feather-like leaves will not dissapoint you.
Some interesting facts about garden cress:
- Ancient Romans spread this herb around their empire.
- Charlemagne encouraged growing the cress in monastery gardens all over his empire (yes, again).
- It stimulates apetite and metabolism.
- It can relieve inflammation of the urinary tract.
- It boots milk production.
It is possible to toss the seeds into the garden soil and allow the cress to develop into full lush plants. Which can end up on your plate. You can also harvest its seeds this way and not bother buying one package after another all the time.
But the fresh first leaves are the most delicious and they are the typical victims of hungry cooks. Who could resist such adorable and tasty microgreens full of vitamins?
What you need to grow garden cress:
- a bowl or a plate
- two or three paper tissues
- water
- garden cress seeds
- a few spoons of soil (optional)
I prefer to give the cress some soil but you can successfully grow it only on a layer of paper tissues. It just feel a bit more “gardening” like when you provide some soil for the thick net of garden cress roots. The tissues should always go on the top. It will prevent the plants to keep soil on the leaves and you will not have to wash it.
So, prepare a shallow bowl, cover the bottom whith whatever you chose. Completely soak the tissues with water and sprinkle the garden cress seeds.
You need to make sure the tissues are always moist. Be careful especially when the bowl is near a heating. Do not use too many seeds. The cress will grow into a cluster with entangled leaves and empty seed coats.
The cress seeds will release a protective gel-like coating after a while and the first signs of germination will be visible in about 24 hours. You can expect to find a different stage of growth every day as the roots frantically burst through the paper and make a firm net in the soil. The leaves will shed the seed remains and stand proud. And get a bit higher with each passing hour. This is what makes garden cress ideal for home experiments for little kids.
As always, there is a piece of a short story 🙂 This one is a bit depressing. The pandemic is to blame.
Shrinking Walls Part 1.
“Don’t go out, Grandma. The groceries will come in a few hours. We ordered them, don’t worry. Just don’t go shopping Don’t talk to anyone at a close distance.”
Anne gripped the phone and bit her tongue. The muddy village street was empty. Her second daughter in law, Letty, repeated the explanation about online shopping and how a supermarket package should come right to Anne’s door.
“And put on the face mask when outside! And wash your hands when you touch something! Abbie! Don’t touch that, that’s Christopher’s homework!”
Scratching and thudding sounds reached her from the speaker. Letty shouted at her children and, breathless, returned to the phone.
“Dear, you keep repeating this over and over.” Anne stopped the ongoing safety instructions. “I haven’t been outside for a month. I will stay here, safe. Don’t worry.”
The kids screamed again and Letty shouted.
Anne quickly ended the phone call, rolled her eyes, and relaxed in the chair when the nervous and exhausted voice went silent.
But the silence filled her ears like the mud from the outside. Her neighbors’ windows were still dark. Anne found the phone number.
I shouldn’t call. The nurses have enough to do. They’ll call me once they feel better. Once they can… breathe.
The walls shrunk around her. She noticed a spider web on the ceiling.
Anne jumped up. Her knee and hips protested with a streak of pain.
White walls. Curtains that surely needed a wash. She hobbled to a cupboard and reordered her spice boxes. She washed the one plate and cup from breakfast. Her duck-shaped sponge annoyed her with its bright yellow color.
Silence.
She went upstairs. She rearranged her sewing kit. The walls seemed tighter also here. And the photos on the walls annoyed her with stillness. The familiar faces did not move or speak. And the photos from the trips and holidays hurt her. The bright sun on the lush leaves or white snow on a bench in a ski resort seemed to be from a different life.
She collected the curtains and the washing machine roared in the empty, shrinking house.
Anne cleaned the sink. She tried the radio. She turned it off in the middle of another pandemics briefing. She checked her cutlery.
Sixty pieces…
The spoons felt heavy.
That’s half of today’s death count in this town.
Her eyes blurred.
Silence.
Emptiness.
Loneliness.
Heavy rain diluted the mud outside. Her garden turned into a pool. Bare trees hid in the fog.
The young man in a green uniform gladly carried the supermarket packages to the front door and let Anne sign some paper. He moved swiftly. Anne watched his agile moves from a safe distance and asked about his day.
“A lot of work. But at least there’s work.” He laughed.
Other questions poured from her mouth. She saw impatience in his gestures but could not stop herself from asking more. Her glasses blurred in the cold rain. She did not dare to adjust her face mask.
She could not see the man’s features and she tried to guess whether he had a big nose. Or a mustache.
“And what about oranges? Are they good in this time of the year?” she inquired.
He inhaled sharply and straightened up.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t keep you. I…” Anne gripped her umbrella.
The young man’s eyes softened above his face mask. He raised his arm and made a step towards her. Then he stepped back.
“All will be well. Just stay safe. Order again and stay here. We all must wait. Summer will be better.”
Anne nodded. She quickly put a tip on the fence and rushed to the house. But she watched the young man take the money and her chest tightened when the van rode off and only the cold drizzle filled the street.
She went to another window. A bird flew through the weak rain.
How about a cat? Some lonely cat I could let inside. I was so stupid when I didn’t take that kitten from Anita this summer.
She checked all of her windows. Everything was still and empty. Her legs hurt but she kept looking outside.
She cried when she touched the groceries bags. Every single package reminded her of the life before. Of the talks with friends. Of the shared meals. Of the walks from the shop. Of her noisy grandkids loving fresh bread rolls and butter.
The packages of new garden cress seeds rustled in her wrinkled hand. She did not eat those petite leaves for years. Since her children left home. They loved the cress egg spread.
She sighed and put the package aside.
Maybe I’ll plant it tomorrow.
The radio went on about the pandemics. She gave it a five-minute chance to start about something else. It didn’t. She plucked it off.
Covid. I can’t hear that word one more time.
Glenn's Nest 