So, on this pristine Saturday morning in early April, here I was, eight-months married. The house was more than half way completed thanks to the countless evenings, late nights and weekend warrior work that Teri and I did that winter. Standing in the garden for the first time in eight months, I was aware of the never ending list of things we still had to do in the house in order to move in by June. I was acutely aware of what I would be doing in the house if I was not in the garden. Yet I also knew that if I didn’t get the garden started, we probably would not even have one this year. On top of that, I was also aware of what I was missing inside. My two step-children, Isaac and Maija, were making a huge breakfast of bacon and eggs, toast and home fries with Teri in our bare-bones, sub-floored kitchen. Instead, I was going to reclaim the garden. It was 8 a.m., the sun was bright, the big stuff was pulled and I now had at least a couple of hours of rototilling to look forward to before planting.

As I passed back and forth over the earth with the rototiller I thought: What should I plant first? It was a toss-up between peas and potatoes. Both like to be first -- planted early in the cool spring just as soon as the ground can be worked. I usually do peas the first day, and potatoes the next. But this year it was potatoes first, and the theme I had in mind was both international and patriotic - traditional Scandinavian reds, American whites and Peruvian blues.

After a couple of hours of rototilling I went inside for a cold glass of spring water and then down to the root-cellar to get my seed potatoes. As I went down to the root-cellar to retrieve my seed tubers I began to reflect on life.

Here I was – middle aged – and I had been gardening since the days I was in knee pants when my mother made my sister, brother and I weed with her for two hours on Saturday mornings. As much as I hated weeding back then, little did I know that those two hour sessions (and more) would continue for the next forty years.

Experience taught me to prepare my seed potatoes a day or two before planting. The day before, I had gone to the root cellar and cut my larger potatoes (6 – 8 ounces) in half or thirds, so each piece was blocky, rather than wedge-shaped. I cut them this way so there will be as much flesh as possible for each eye: this stored food is what the plant lives on while sprouting. Each seed potato should be about 2 ounces and have at least one eye. After cutting, the seed tubers had sat overnight in the cool dark root cellar to callus or cure.

On the way up from the root cellar my mind wandered even further. As I returned to the garden I thought about past gardens. I started to do some math. Roughly, I figured I had spent thousands and thousands of hours planning, planting, weeding, and maintaining gardens. Here I was again, about to do what I had done so many times.

I drove four stakes in the ground to make two rows that were thirty-six feet long and three and a half feet apart. I strung string between two stakes at either end and dug two thirty-six foot long trenches or drills, five or six inches deep, and three and a half feet apart. Three and a half feet is a bit wider row than normal, and somewhat of a waste of space, but I wanted the rows far enough apart to run the rototiller in between so I didn’t have to weed so much. A lot of gardeners still do that. An extra wide row also provided plenty of loose dirt that I could use to hill up over the new plant growth.

Next, I dressed the drills and planting beds with compost, and inserted one seed potato every twelve inches using my tried and true 12” measuring stick. It was noon by the time I reached the end of my last row and covered it over with a light layer of dirt using a hoe. This final step is always accomplished with a sense of completion, comfort and joy.

I was ready for a nap. I also knew that the work required to grow potatoes was just about to begin. Within days I would be hobbling on my knees again, down each row, clearing weeds until the potato sprouts broke the surface. After a couple of weeks, it would be time to hill, and then the on-going cycle of weeding and hilling, weeding and hilling, and weeding and hilling! That would go on until fall.

Gardening seemed different at the moment. It had an added importance now that I had a family. It was huge commitment to provide for four, not just one. And I realized it would not be just a challenge, it would be a necessity given the continual rise in food costs. Again, I started to do the math.

Graduall y, I began to question whether a garden was even worth all this effort. So many people I knew over the years gave up vegetable gardening because it ate up too much of their time – away from spending time with family or kayaking, hiking, biking, vacationing, or just reading a book. If I did the numbers, what would be the cost of not doing a garden? I asked myself, why do I devote such time and labor when we can buy a 50 lb. bag of potatoes at a cost equal to or less than I can grow them (if you include the labor)? The prospect of planting Peruvian blue potatoes was suddenly giving me the blues. What was I doing? Unlike my thirty year old tiller, a few choice body parts were asking the same question; not just my back and shoulders, but my brain as well. For the first time in my life the thought of spending hours upon hours, week after week gardening (weeding) was not so appealing. And what was “I” doing while my new family spontaneously slept-in, hiked, biked, swam, kayaked and enjoyed a summer sprinkled with leisurely breakfasts?

I reflected on one of the things a good friend has said to me many times, “The only thing we really have control over is our time.” Which is right.

For the first time in my life I was standing in the middle of my potato patch thinking, “There must be a better way!”

After decades of gardening I was very familiar with mulch. Mulch is absolutely the best way to control weeds, reduce erosion, retain moisture, maintain even soil temperatures, and enrich the soil. For years I used straw mulch, but found that to be fairly expensive, and unless you have a lot of straw, weeds eventually return and take over again. I even used leaves, but you have to have a ton of them and they take a fair amount of time to collect. Leaves also mat together and prevent water from reaching the soil, which is not good. Like many others I also used black plastic, but stopped because it was so bad environmentally, and it does not let air and water through. Plus, it is not UV protected so it breaks down quickly in sunlight. Although there are some fiber fabrics out there, they are flimsy and do not last more than a season or two. I have even heard of people using old newspaper or cardboard for mulch. But knowing the chemicals, not just in the ink, but the paper production, I could not fathom the idea. And I have no idea how burlap bags are made, but people also use them too I have heard.

Over and over I kept telling myself: “There must be a better way!” I thought, surely, there must be some material that has all the properties of mulch and would last a long time.

Finally it dawned on me. I recalled my elementary school education and the things I was taught that a plant needs in order to grow: water, air and sunlight and soil. That was it! The solution was simple. Eliminate sunlight! If I could find or develop a material that blocked sunlight, but let air and water through, that would be perfect. I decided to do a little research.

That was how the idea for Garden Mats was born. I began to think about all of the additional features and benefits I would want if I could buy a product that stopped weeds. Ideally, it would need to have a long product life and look appealing. It would have to act as mulch: stop weeds, retain moisture, reduce erosion, maintain even soil temperatures and enrich the soil. It also would need to have pre-measured holes already cut out – no more measuring. There would have to be different patterns and plant spacing to allow you to grow a large variety of vegetables. Most importantly, it would have to enable someone to garden 100% organically. And perhaps just as important, it had to be affordable. I thought it would be great if the product was able to pay for itself in the first year in time saved from weeding (calculated at $10 per hour).

I knew it would take a few years to figure it all out, but at that moment, I also knew this was a very simple idea that was well worth pursuing. And I recalled what my mother always told me: “Good ideas are a dime a dozen. Making an idea a reality is another matter altogether.”

Flash forward, eight years later. Garden Mats® have transformed the way we and thousands of others organically grow vegetables. We now grow red, white and blue potatoes without trenches, and best of all, no weeding and hilling, weeding and hilling and weeding and hilling. There is no un-hilling at harvest time either. I just peel the Garden Mats® back, dig my potatoes with a fork, and they pop right up.

THE POTATO

It is hard to believe that the potato, the workhorse of most gardens, is native to the Americas. All indications are that they probably originate somewhere around ancient Peru, which is why I love Peruvian blues! Just think, in a little more than 200 years, all varieties and colors of this original upland Peruvian plant became a staple vegetable crop throughout the entire temperate world. The high starch content and food value make it a most important nutritional source. Potatoes are also one of the most productive of all vegetables when it comes to food per unit area of land.

The potato only made it to Eurasia with European contact after the 1500s. And today, it is near impossible to imagine Northern European rural cuisine without the Colcannon, Latke, and Pieroggi, and hundreds of other deeply traditional farm dishes. By the late 1700s, the potato was such a mainstay of peasant diets that the tragedy of the well-known Irish Potato Famine of 1847, began in part out of the dependence of the rural Irish on that one crop, and one variety--some say-- for sustenance and subsistence.

Today, varieties abound: Every gardener has his and her favorites for boiling, frying, mashing, baking in the jacket, casseroles, cold salads, and for storage and keeping. An exciting thing about heirloom varieties are the colors, which can range from stark white and deep, buttery yellow, to pink, blue, and even purple. “Blues” are my favorite. Though popular in recent years in some specialty prepared foods like chips, home-grown Peruvian blue potatoes are still greeted with pleasant surprise by young and old at the dinner table. Kids love them! I also prefer them because they are superb keepers, and as a cook, they are about the best all around for baking, boiling, mashed, roasted, scalloped, home fried, cold in potato salad, or just about any way you like them.

As with any garden project, soil preparation and a sunny, a well-drained plot is key to growing good potatoes. The ground should be worked to a good depth to break up hard-pack, clay is not good (unless you like misshapen tubers) and stones must be removed from the garden completely. Potatoes love well drained, rich soil! Although, most good garden soils are suitable. Working in plenty of rich compost material is always advised.

When we first moved to Vermont, I recall fondly a family friend, Evelyn Tillotson. When she was in her 80’s she loved potatoes. She served them when ever we went to eat at her home. And she preferred them when she ate at our place. They were part of her daily diet, but she seemed to put them up on a pedestal as part of a triumvirate with wild mushrooms and beets, as gifts surely given to mankind by a compassionate God. The tubers had her particular reverence. From the stories she told potatoes saved many families during the Great Depression. Did you know, she once asked me, “If you had to live on just one thing you can grow, what it would be?” I had no idea. “The potato,” she said. “But you have to eat the skin because that is where the vitamins are.” Evelyn was right: in addition to the energy these carbohydrates provide, potatoes also supply considerable amounts of protein and vitamins B and C. All that is missing is vitamin A, and that we can get from milk or cheese. So, you see, mashed potatoes are not only a comfort food, but have all the things a body needs to survive. And who doesn’t like them with roasted garlic and a little butter?

Today, as I learned from Evelyn Tillotson over thirty years ago, we always set aside enough from each year’s crop for seed-potatoes the next spring, so we don’t have to buy any. This is not always possible. In fact, last summer we had a potato blight in Vermont and cannot risk planting tubers which have been infected back in the garden. So this year we plan to buy them from a reputable, local source and will start over. It does give us the extra opportunity to experiment with some different varieties, shapes and colors. Fingerlings are definitely on my list. But remember, if you are swapping or sharing seed potatoes with friends, especially in the Northeast this year, do be careful they are healthy and mold or rust free.

A couple of times, when I was desperate, I even planted left-over supermarket potatoes, cutting them into sections with at least two “eyes” or buds and allowing a day or so to callus after slicing. But market potatoes, more recently unfortunately, are often treated with a spray specifically to retard sprouting, which may explain the indifferent crops I’ve had.

Each vegetable we grow in our garden seems to bring with it particular satisfactions. Having a backyard potato patch can provide a supply food in any household for 9 months of the year as long as they are stored properly. Potatoes are an economical, chemical-safe supply of a staple, and provide a Vitamin rich, Potassium, and fiber-healthy yield in—depending on the varieties—a rainbow of colors.

And finally, thanks to Garden Mats®, my body no longer takes a toll from all the work it takes to grow them. The potato patch is finally a place of contented reflection, rather than stressful mandatory labor.

Best of all, when the time is just right, we pull up a corner of our mat and roll back a section anywhere we want to……. for new potatoes! Nothing beats the excitement and the subtle, nutty-buttery taste of red new potatoes, boiled with fresh dill about nine or ten weeks into the season, or baby blues with sour cream and fresh chives. This is just about the time I start to gather wild mushrooms.

But, later, as fall settles in, when I roll back my Garden Mats® after the last hard frost has covered the potato plants, I fork up the soil to discover the bounty of potatoes underneath, ready for the root cellar. It makes me feel very close to the earth, family and life. And I love to hear our daughter, Anya say: “Dad, these are huge!” “Yup,” I reply, “And if we had to live on just one thing that we can grow, do you know what it would be?”

And we both say, “The potato.”