A meal grows in the city

An urban plot produces a plentiful crop of veggies

(Wiqan Ang for the Boston Globe)

In the middle of summer, if you've pulled slowly into Danielle Andrews's driveway, branches of the peach, apple, and pear trees that line the unpaved path are heavy with fruit, and you or your vehicle are sure to knock off a few pieces if you're not careful. Out back, in raised beds behind the green Victorian house, vines laden with tiny Sun Gold tomatoes and giant collard greens muscle each other for space. By the kitchen door, fresh herbs spill out of pots. There's a patch of lawn, and an old-fashioned reel mower leaning against a shed that tells a visitor just how the grass is tended.

It's a scene right out of rural Vermont, or at least a leafy Boston suburb. But this vest-pocket Eden is in Jamaica Plain, surrounded by triple-deckers, just a couple of blocks off busy Centre Street. Andrews, who lives here with her husband, David Kimball, and their daughter, Jackson, would probably make a garden of any place she called home. An urban grower with the Food Project, a youth development organization that brings urban and suburban teens together to raise food for Boston farmers' markets and hunger-relief organizations, Andrews, 34, is in charge of the group's four growing sites in Dorchester and Roxbury. She's currently enjoying a one-year maternity leave, which has given her more time than ever to focus on her own yard as well as the community garden plot she and Kimball work, growing green beans, onions, cucumbers, lettuces, and much more. This family doesn't just talk eating local, they live it - to the extent that's possible in Boston.

Andrews wasn't born to this life. It's been a deliberate choice, though you might say the seeds were sown early. "My father lived briefly on a farm - until he was 7 or 8," says Andrews, a native of Canada. "And my mom is a serious perennial gardener." But the family lived mostly in urban settings while Andrews was growing up. Yes, there was the community garden patch they cultivated in Winnipeg and Andrews has childhood memories of her mother making fruit jam from wild fruit they'd picked. But the gardening bug didn't really bite until after college, when Andrews took a summer job at an organic farm. "I didn't think I'd stay [in farming]," she says. "But I fell in love with it."

Her interest in cooking had come earlier. "When I started university," says Andrews, "I didn't want to live in a dorm. My mother agreed - as long as I could show her I was able to cook for myself." The summer before she left home, she spent every night demonstrating her skills at the dinner table, compiling a recipe book she eventually took to school with her. At the same time, she stopped eating meat. "When I started to explore the world of vegetarian cooking, it really jibed with my taste buds. I remember tasting cumin and cilantro for the first time at university."

Now, in her homey kitchen, Andrews and Kimball delight in preparing an array of healthful dishes whose flavors reflect the global palate. On a recent Sunday evening, in the brief intervals of sunshine between cloud bursts, they fired up the charcoal grill on their patio to prepare a grilled vegetable salad. Sliced eggplant, squash, and peppers are cooked over coals just until tender, then coarsely chopped and tossed with a vinaigrette, crunchy raw veggies (the homegrown cucumber, a yellow-skinned Poona Kheera, has a crispness that's audible across the room), and their own fresh herbs. Tonight, feta and olives give the salad a Mediterranean accent; other times, the dish skews in a more Asian direction.

On the wall over the sink, a colorful World War II-era poster, replete with tomatoes, corn, and beets, exhorts a viewer to "Can All You Can - It's a Real War Job!" This being New England, the family can't rely on their summer crops all winter, but Andrews does her best to stretch them out. On nearby shelves are jars of fruits and vegetables she put up last summer - ketchup, pickles, corn relish. "When tomatoes are at their peak and I don't have the energy to can, I roast them, chop them up, add some herbs, and throw them into the freezer." Little goes to waste in this household. "One year we had a tremendous tomato crop. That heirloom tomato juice made some delicious Bloody Marys that winter," says Andrews.

To some extent, Andrews has solved the question that plagues most New Englanders: How to find a tasty tomato. Cherokee Purple, she says, is a favorite heirloom; almost apologetically, she says that Sun Golds are a reliable strain she counts on. "Everyone grows them, but there's a reason they do - they're so prolific and easy to grow at home, even on a balcony." But not every year can bring a superior crop; this year, for instance, an excess of rain may mean that "yields will be good, but the flavor's not what it could be."

Still, even in this less-than-ideal season, the garden provides. The salad is fresh and simple - summer in a bowl. Andrews and Kimball never grow tired of it. "Once all the veggies in the garden kick in," says Andrews, "you have a bounty of them, and this is a pretty delicious thing to make with them."