Growing up, the garden was somewhat family-cultural; it was an overflow of the psychological “make-do or do-without” mindset of both my parents, who came from poor, Midwestern backgrounds. It wasn’t because it was healthy; it was just a past-time and the way to secure access to green tomatoes for frying. Still, my favorite childhood food memories were the watermelon seed-spitting contests off the porch, stealing strawberries straight from the patch, measuring my height against the corn, and the fresh onions we kept in a glass of water on the table for any passerby to grab and munch.
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