Planting a New Crop in the Garden

Yesterday I told you about a brand new crop we were trying in our garden this year. Enough with the suspense.  Benjamin, who was given the nickname, "Peanut Man" by my Aunt Cheryl because he loves peanuts, was very excited about putting The Sonnier Family's very first crop of peanuts in the ground. We've never grown them before.  The sight below reminds me of something you might see on the ground at a football or baseball game.  The snap as you walk on them reminds me of being in an all-you-can-eat Catfish joint where they tell you that you can throw the peanut shells on the floor.

But the peanut shells you see below are on the ground in our garden after we've removed the peanuts to plant them.  Oh, these aren't your ordinary peanut either. Tricia picked these up at a Seed Exchange at the SSAWG Conference last year in Little Rock, Arkansas.  Seed exchanges are neat because everyone brings some seeds they grow and shares them.  You can always pick up something new and interesting to try. These peanuts are heirloom seeds and have a neat little history.  Now I really like interesting seeds that have a story.

Peanut Shells

The type of peanuts we're planting are called "Schronce's Deep Black Peanuts."  They are true to their name. Check a couple of them out that I have in my hand in the photo below.  To be honest, it was all Benjamin and I could do to keep from eating them right there in the garden.  But we didn't.

Schronce's Deep Black Peanuts

From the following link: Georgia Dept of Agriculture I found the following written by Arty Schronce:

It was in the fall of 1980 that Hunter Helderman (a neighbor and distant relation), gave my father, Gordon Schronce, three peanuts – three ordinary looking peanuts. Inside those shells were seven individual peanuts – seven peanuts that were not ordinary at all. Those seven peanuts had black skins instead of the more familiar red.

Daddy planted the peanuts that spring in the family garden in Iron Station, North Carolina. (He had been growing red-skinned peanuts for several years after purchasing a bushel from a local 4-H’er.) The black peanuts performed well and exhibited no particularly different traits from the red peanuts except that the plants were smaller overall. Over the years he built up his stock of black peanuts and began saving and planting only the largest peanuts with the darkest skins.

The peanuts came with no history and no promises of magic like the beans offered to Jack (and Daddy didn’t sell the family cow for them). They didn’t vine their way up to a giant’s castle or bring great riches, but they have performed magic of a sort. They have been a conversation starter, a source of pride, a teaching tool, and a delicious and nutrient-rich snack for almost three decades.

Pretty cool, huh?  I think so.  So I used my red-tape handled, 10 cent, Goodwill Store diggin' knife to dig holes at appropriate depths and Benjamin dropped the peanuts in the holes and I covered them.

Can you see the Black Peanut in the hole?

One of the peanuts we opened (sadly) had peanuts that were not black.  We're going to go ahead and plant these anyway and see what happens.  If you read the article linked above, the author tells how they are from Georgia and are big University of Georgia Bulldog fans.  They grow both red and black peanuts and mix them together for tailgate parties and Georgia Bulldog Football games since UGA's colors are red and black. Perhaps ol' Arty is trying to switch our loyalties from the Purple and Gold (LSU) or Maroon and White (Texas A&M).

Peanuts not black, but not red either...

One other interesting thing the article states about the Schronce's Deep Black Peanuts follows in this cut & paste from the same link posted above:

"Carolina Black Peanut – A rare heirloom, black-skinned peanut from North Carolina. According to food historian William Woys Weaver, the black peanut may have been used as a substitute for black bambarra. Black bambarra is important in African folk medicine as an aphrodisiac. (Whoa, now!) The North Carolina climate won't support black bambarra, but the black peanut grows there without difficulty. 'Carolina Black' produces sweet tasting, black-skinned peanuts that are slightly larger than 'Spanish' peanuts. Averages two peanuts per shell."

"I ordered some, and they closely resembled my father’s except for a slightly lighter color and smaller number of peanuts per shell. Thanks to my father’s selection process, his peanuts frequently have three or four per shell and are a deep violet-black.
I won’t speculate on how good an aphrodisiac either black bambarra or black peanuts are, but I will vouch that they have gotten a few conversations off and running. They also serve as an educational tool when my parents visit local schools and explain how peanuts grow and how George Washington Carver helped turn what was considered a minor crop into one of America’s most important foods.
I can’t detect much of a difference in flavor between red and black peanuts, except the black ones may be a tad sweeter. Daddy likes to mix red and black together and fry them in canola oil. They make an attractive as well as tasty mix. No, that is too modest. They are about the best-looking, best-tasting peanuts I have ever put in my mouth."

See what I mean about interesting crops?  As discussed earlier, Benjamin and I resisted the urge to eat the peanuts and instead planted them.  Hopefully our delayed gratification will work out and in 120 days we'll have a bountiful harvest of black peanuts - some of which we'll save for seed for next year!  But most of them, well, The Peanut Man and I will consume!