
Years ago, when Susan Feller lived in Alexandria, Virginia, her gardening hobby blossomed beyond her backyard. She decided to trade in a sputtering seventeen-year journalism career for a certificate in landscape design from the George Washington University. Then she started her own company.
That was more than twenty years – and countless gardens – ago, but the vegetable plot flanking the west side of her West Tisbury lawn is her first attempt at growing produce. After she and her husband, Lloyd, left Alexandria and bought their almost-two-acre Vineyard property five years ago, she envisioned a garden from which she and her family could eat regularly – though not exclusively. Living off the land wasn’t the intention, Susan says. “But if I could walk out my side door, go ten steps into my garden, and pick some vegetables for us to eat, that would be perfect.”
So that’s where it went – just a few paces from her flagstone patio in an area that soaks up plenty of midday sun. She sited the garden herself, etching the eighteen-by-twenty-eight-foot outline into the grass with a paintbrush. A landscaper dug and fenced the garden with staggered seven-foot wooden posts and crosshatched chicken wire that wraps around to a custom-built, rugged, barn-like double-door painted cobalt blue.
“I once saw a gate that color in Stinson Beach, California, and thought, ‘Someday I’m going to have a garden with a gate that color,’” she says. Its effect is both practical and whimsical, and the door’s bright hue more than hints at the colorful crop inside: hot pink-topped zinnias, coral nasturtiums, fiery cayenne chiles, bottle-green pickling cucumbers by the dozen, amber-stemmed Swiss chard, and ‘Sungold’ cherry tomatoes. At the center, a ring of smooth rocks borders a verdant herb patch.

Recently her vegetables outgrew the initial space; to accommodate, she expanded into a second garden, where she planted berry bushes and sprawling vegetables such as squash. When her daughter, Jennifer, and granddaughters, Grace and Eleanor, visit in the summer, the girls follow Susan barefoot out to the garden to pick out what they want for dinner. Susan says, “It’s a mother-gardener’s dream come true.”
That said, she also readily admits that not everything always works out perfectly the first time. She would rethink the original garden’s fence height, for instance, if she had it to do over again. “I went overboard,” she says. “The deer won’t jump that high into a space that small.” Conversely, she skipped fencing altogether on the second garden and regrets it.
She keeps mental notes like these about what works and what doesn’t, learning a lot by trial and error. But a walk through her well-tended, ever-improving plot is proof that some good advice, high-quality products, and a healthy bit of weeding – Susan spends roughly four hours per day tidying, clipping, watering, and redressing – can go a long way toward giving you a green thumb, not to mention getting a farmer’s-market-quality salad on the dinner table.
From the ground up
March is about the time when Susan starts “messing around in there,” picking up sticks and cleaning away a winter’s worth of fallen leaves. She and Lloyd split their time between the Vineyard and Manhattan, but as an active member of the Island’s Habitat for Humanity chapter – for which she does “green” landscape design featuring native plants with minimal lawn areas – Susan considers it her duty to come north for the monthly meetings. Conveniently, it also gives her an excuse to dust off her garden clogs. Around that time, the earth is just starting to become workable enough for her to pull out any plants from last season. Once she can get a blade into the ground, she’ll load on the cow manure and fork it around with compost.
Her own compost pile is a work in progress: a heap of weeds, some grass, and kitchen scraps (minus any meat and dairy) that she lets tend itself for the time being. Once the waste decomposes, it produces dark, rich compost, which she digs out from the lower reaches of the pile. Susan laments that though she’s used the compost on the vegetable garden and thinks it does work, her methods are “inefficient” and “unscientific.” Getting organized about compost is on her to-do list.In the meantime, she relies on good-quality commercial compost – and lots of it – from John Keene Excavation in West Tisbury. In the early months, she dresses the beds with as much as fifty-to-sixty wheelbarrows’ worth to ensure that her plants are getting plenty of nutrients. “I plant very densely and I figure that depletes the soil of nutrients,” she says, “so early in the season, I add the compost to replace them.”
Seeds and seedlings especially need plenty of nitrogen-rich compost early on to grow full and tall, so she stocks up on organic fertilizers (Vermont Compost and North Country Organics are two of her favorite brands) and concocts her own nourishing mix of Keene’s compost enriched with composted cow manure – “a good source of nitrogen” – or the compost tea that Mitch Posin brews over at Allen Farm in Chilmark. Compost tea is made by steeping compost in water, then straining out the solids and using the “tea” as a surface spray on non-edible portions of plants or as a soil-drench. The liquid product works at least as effectively as traditional compost by saturating the plants with nutrients, and also as a natural pesticide, wiping out foliar diseases and toxins.
Sowing seeds
After the frost has broken, it’s time to start planting. To keep them well-fed and well-protected, Susan dresses the beds every couple of weeks with fertilizer and blankets them with row covers to keep them warm; even early-season crops that thrive in cooler soil need some protection against temperature dips. And it’s a good idea to invest in superior seeds: Susan vouches for a brand called Johnny’s Selected Seeds, available at SBS in Vineyard Haven.
Lettuces, herbs, peas, and perennials such as asparagus and sorrel make up Susan’s early-planting roster. The latter’s distinct lemon-like tang works beautifully in salad or soup – probably its most popular preparations – but can also be creamed into a velvety sauce over salmon (see page 75). And as for fresh peas, her modest crop – “all two dinners’ worth” – adds springtime freshness to richly textured risotto, to the delight of her lucky dinner guests.
Come mid-May, the ground is primed for later-season crops like Brussels sprouts, broccoli, beans, fennel, flowers, peppers, and plenty of tomato plants. She and the girls wax poetic about pasta sauced with just-picked, barely cooked August ‘Sungold’ cherry tomatoes. “That is,” Jennifer points out, “if they make it to the table.” And if all of the hungry competition doesn’t get to the plants before Susan does. Even without the deer munching on her tomatoes, she is kept busy shooing out all the other Peter Rabbits that help themselves to her vegetables.
“Rabbits like the garden, and every bug in the world is in there,” she says. “In the second garden, I don’t have a fence, and every squash gets gnawed by smaller animals. I spray Bobbex [animal repellent] around the outside...so that when the rabbits come, they’ll think better of coming in.” (Though like Mr. McGregor, she admits to having thoughts of rabbit stew.)
Putting down roots
Siting, digging, planting, pruning, watering, weeding – if all this sounds like quite a bit of work, Susan would be the first to agree. Like any vegetable farmer, she’s up and treading through her yard while the grass is still cool and dewy, and she might poke around in the garden for the better part of the morning. But for those whose growing experience is in more embryonic stages – read: Chia Pets and AeroGardens – any expert will tell you that even a small, garden-variety patch is worth it. “There’s nothing like fresh broccoli,” Susan says. Not only is growing your own food enormously gratifying, but you won’t regret giving up a piece of your lawn when your granddaughter asks if she can be the one to wash the kale.
“It’s a busman’s holiday,” Susan says. “I did gardening – albeit not vegetable – for a living for so long for other people that it feels like a gift to have the time to do it for myself. Besides, I like getting dirty.”
Susan Feller’s favorite recipes
Japanese cucumber salad with vinegar
For years, Susan has been making this recipe, adapted from Gourmet, June 1998. “Japanese pickles are something I couldn’t get enough of in Kyoto,” says Susan, who visited there in the nineties. “So when I had piles of cukes and saw this recipe – bingo!”
Serves 4 as a side dish
• 2 English or 4 regular cucumbers
• 1 tablespoon coarse salt
• 1/4 cup Sherry vinegar or rice vinegar
• 1 tablespoon dark soy sauce
• 1 tablespoon sugar, or to taste
• 2 teaspoons black sesame seeds (optional)
1. Peel and seed cucumbers and diagonally cut into 1/8- to 1/4-inch-thick slices. In a colander set over a bowl, toss cucumbers with salt and drain 30 minutes. Rinse cucumbers well and pat dry.
2. In a medium bowl, toss cucumbers with vinegar, soy sauce, and sugar. Chill until ready to serve. To achieve a more “pickled” result, allow the salad to chill for a few hours before serving. Sprinkle with black sesame seeds, if using, just before serving.
Salmon with sorrel sauce
Fresh sorrel leaves have a tangy, slightly sour flavor that complements fish and cream sauces. Susan found this recipe online at Washington’s Chateau Ste. Michelle Winery. If you prefer not to fry the salmon, bake the fillets in a preheated 375-degree oven for 8 to 10 minutes instead.
Serves 8

• 4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
• 3 shallots, finely chopped
• 1/2 cup Chardonnay
• 1 1/2 cups heavy cream
• 1 1/2 cups chopped fresh sorrel
• Salt to taste
• White pepper to taste
• Fresh lemon juice, if needed
• 2 pounds salmon, preferably wild center-cut, cut in 2 pieces
• Black pepper to taste
1. In a small saucepan, heat 2 tablespoons olive oil, add shallots, and briefly saut é. Then add the wine, bring to a boil, and reduce the liquid to 1/4 cup. Whisk in the cream and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer until the liquid is reduced to sauce consistency. Add the sorrel and simmer to wilt.
2. Using an immersion blender, pur ée the mixture until smooth. Add salt and white pepper to taste, and lemon juice if needed (the sauce should be slightly tart from the sorrel).
3. Meanwhile, generously season the salmon fillets with salt and black pepper. In a large skillet, heat 1 tablespoon of remaining oil until shimmering. Add one piece of salmon skin-side down and cook 4 to 5 minutes (the skin should be golden brown). Gently flip salmon and cook another 3 to 4 minutes. Transfer the fillet to a plate and repeat with the remaining oil and second piece of salmon.
4. Cut the fillets into individual servings and serve either topped with the sorrel sauce or with the sauce on the side.
Middle Eastern lamb with mint sauce and pita
Susan has been making this recipe ever since she first purchased Diane D. MacMillan’s The Portable Feast when it was published in 1973. Island lamb is often available at farms such as Allen Farm and Mermaid Farm in Chilmark.
Serves 8
• 2 large onions, sliced very thin
• 3 tablespoons olive oil

• 2 pounds ground lamb
• 2 garlic cloves, mashed and minced
• 1/4 teaspoon whole coriander seeds (optional)
• 1/2 teaspoon cumin
• 1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1 teaspoon salt
• Pepper to taste
• 1/2 cup chopped pine nuts, toasted
• Mint sauce, recipe follows
• Fresh pita for serving
• Yogurt for serving
1. In a large skillet, saut é the onions in the oil; drain and set onions aside.
2. In the same skillet, brown the lamb until all redness is gone and the meat is crumbly but not dry, about 8 to 10 minutes. Pour off excess grease. Add saut éed onions, garlic, and spices; cook for 25 to 30 minutes.
3. Stir in toasted pine nuts, and serve with the mint sauce, fresh pita, and yogurt.
mint sauce
• 1/2 cup white wine vinegar or malt vinegar
• 1/4 cup water
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 1 1/2 cups chopped fresh mint leaves, stems removed
1. In a small saucepan, heat the vinegar, water, and sugar together, and stir until the sugar is dissolved.
2. Put the mint in a medium bowl, and pour the mixture on top. Allow to stand for several hours. u