Carrots always feel like a bit of a gamble, don’t they? One minute you’re staring at a palm of seeds a quarter of the size of a grain of rice, wondering how anything edible could ever come from them, and the next minute you’re pulling dinner out of the dirt. This year, my carrots taught me another lesson: they are a Negligent Gardener’s dream!
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Planting the Carrot Patch
I planted my carrots the easy way—directly in the garden. I did prepare the soil a little better than usual, but only just. It was that time of year when I was planting a lot of seeds, so it wasn’t like I took extra time to make sure the soil was perfectly fine and fluffy. That’s not really my style.
I used my Japanese weeding sickle to scratch a fairly straight, shallow line across the soil in the raised bed. Then I sprinkled those tiny carrot seeds as thinly as I could. It felt like I barely put down any seeds at all—though I’m sure a few spots got more than their fair share. That’s to be expected.
I gently pushed the not-so-fine soil back over the shallow rows and finished with a firm pat down so the seeds had good contact with the soil. It felt great to water in those rows with a light spray. After planting three four-foot rows of two different varieties, I thought we might end up with enough carrots to last the whole winter.
Thinning… Kind Of
When the tops finally sprouted, I dutifully thinned them. Once.
I told myself that was enough. After all, who really has the heart to toss out tiny seedlings that worked so hard to poke through the soil? It’s a cruel world, and hard work should be rewarded, right?
Throughout the summer, the carrot tops looked great—lush, green, and full of promise. But carrot-growing is a mystery at this stage, isn’t it? You see all that green, but you never really know what’s happening down in the depths of the garden.
Three Harvests, One Lesson
Early fall rolled around, and it was time to pull the first handful. I ended up with a hilarious mix of tiny, bite-sized carrots and big, normal ones that had somehow muscled their way to maturity despite the crowding. A few of the small ones I poked back into the soil, hoping they’d size up a bit more. But it was late in the season, and I didn’t have much hope they’d bulk up.
Carrots are surprisingly cold-hardy, and I like to leave them in the ground as long as possible. The soil acts like a natural refrigerator, and pulling cold carrots out of the earth is incredibly satisfying. Freshly dug carrots smell different from store-bought ones—maybe it’s the dirt, maybe it’s the thinner skin—but whatever it is, it puts a smile on my face every time.
It Depends on the Weather
We ended up with an incredibly warm autumn, so I didn’t worry about the carrots. They had more time to grow, and that meant more pounds of carrots for us. The next time I pulled a bunch was at the end of October.
The previous year, I waited too long and had to dig carrots in January, which was not fun. The ground was frozen solid, and pulling carrots was nearly impossible without breaking them. I wasn’t doing that again, so this year I was determined to freeze every last carrot we wouldn’t use right away.
With the vacuum sealer ready and a pot of water heating on the stove, I pulled out half of the first row. Once again, I had a mix of behemoths and tiny ones. Some of the little ones had wrapped themselves around the big ones—sheesh. Note to self: thin the rows more than I want to. Don’t think about it—just do it!
After using a handful in vegetable soup, I chopped, blanched, and vacuum-sealed five bags for the freezer. Impressive!
Two full rows were left. We’d chipped away at the first row over the last month, but there were still so many left in the ground.
Then came the first snowfall. I couldn’t delay the harvest any longer, could I? We’d made it to the day after Thanksgiving—hadn’t I put it off long enough?
I dug them all up in that first snow, fingers cold but heart warm, filling my garden colander to the brim. And that was just the carrots—I left all the green tops (yes, they were still green!) in the waste bucket for the compost pile.
Blanching and Freezing for Winter
Once I brought them inside, it was time to wash, peel, and chop. With a total of seventeen pounds of carrots, I knew this would take a couple of batches.
My husband and I peeled and chopped together, which made the whole process go surprisingly fast. Once the pot of water was steaming—close enough to boiling for my patience—it was time to blanch.
To keep the water from cooling too much, I worked in small batches, maybe a pound each. After two to three minutes, the carrots were ready for the ice bath to stop the cooking. Then it was straight to the vacuum sealer.
Can you freeze carrots without blanching them? I wouldn’t recommend it. Blanching kills bacteria that could cause spoilage, and when you cool them in the ice bath, the bright orange color is unbelievable.
And that color stays—even months later when you pull the bags out of the freezer. Out of the seventeen-pound snowy-day harvest, I ended up with about seventeen meal-sized bags. The peels and green tops went into the compost outside and the worm bins inside. The resulting compost will feed next year’s harvest as the cycle continues!
What I’ll Do Differently Next Year
Next year, I’ll probably pay more attention to thinning. Thin once early. Thin again a couple of weeks later. And then probably thin one more time. Unless I figure out a way to plant that reduces the need for all that thinning.
Do you have any recommendations? Drop them in the comments below!
