Last year the chives looked like lawn grass. I left them in and this year they’ve blossomed and filled out like pudgy toddlers. Twice this year I pulled out a handful thinking they were the wild garlic I made a huge mistake in planting somewhere on the property. On my behalf I might add that the garden’s been pretty static through all these rainy days and cold nights so whatever’s standing tall is looked at suspiciously. Especially when you’re bending over from the waist and the blood’s all pooled in your brain.
Between rain bouts this afternoon I cut them down. They’ll be chopped and dried and be a good year’s supply of chives for potatoes, soups, and stews.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
Finally, something i can comment on, at least semi-intelligently. I have never, to my knowledge, eaten a chive.
Now see, that explains it.
Seriously, the most common use of chives is served fresh with sour cream on a baked potato.
Are you sure they’re chives ;-P
Yep, they’re chives. The wild garlic stinks when you pull it out.
But it’s lovely when you mow it over!