With many culminating accomplishments to celebrate as we inch, leapfrog, creep, hurtle,… toward the icehouse rehab finish line, I’ve inevitably overlooked a couple. Maybe a few. One of those notable achievements is completion of framing and decking the icehouse east deck.
Icehouse East Deck (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Although we still need to finish installing plugs and oil sealing the garapa deck, framing and decking the east deck is finito. And it looks superb!
In the photograph above (and the next to below), the framing is complete, and most of the garapa has been installed. Only the risers and skirting are missing.
Icehouse East Deck (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Even incomplete, the handsome honey hues and minimalist design are eye catching. Such warm coloration and intriguing grain!
Icehouse East Deck (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
And then the risers and skirting were installed and everything came together into a seamless whole. Cohesive, integrated design resolves subtly, allowing the elegant historic building to preside over an environment as welcoming and user friendly as it is timeless.
Icehouse East Deck (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Note that Brandon has roughed in the lighting which will make for safe after-dark navigation, unifying this nighttime lighting with the house and waterfront.
Icehouse East Deck (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Imagine, if you can, this wood accentuated by this same afternoon light a couple of weeks from now once oiled and gentled into the landscape with soon-to-be planted beds on the south, east, and north sides. I’m looking forward to it!
Sooo close to arriving at Rosslyn, but these peony blooms (Paeonia lactiflora) have exploded into exuberant bloom before I made it back. A false start. Preterprecocious peonies, at least from my present perspective.
Fortunately Pam documented these peony season precursors. (Thanks, Pam!) Beautiful debutants, welcoming Rosslyn arrivals. Our arrival. Shortly. But, inevitably rain will arrive, as if on cue, once the peonies bloom…
Perhaps micropoetry might capture a petal or three. And offering it up to the universe just might invite a rain free reprieve?
Preterprecocious Peonies (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Bursting with color and perfume, peonies might seem an unlikely culinary accessory. But the roots and petals are, in fact, edible. Of course anybody who’s cultivated propones (preterprecocious or otherwise) would resist disinterring peony roots for eating. But the petals?
Two men on scaffold carpentering, high-fiving, enjoying the view.
Scaffold High
Much of the finish work in recent months has been high above terra firma (interior wall and ceiling paneling, exterior siding, window installation, etc.), so ladders and scaffolding have been omnipresent. Lots of climbing up and down, lifting up and down. Simple tasks become less simple, and complex tasks become more complex. Up, down, up, down,…
And yet the team has persevered. They’ve climbed, lifted, and maintained their upbeat demeanor. They’ve collaborated and they’ve celebrated. High five!
For such a nanoscopic space, it’s a little uncanny how much complex finish carpentry and how much cabinetry have been part of this final stretch in the icehouse rehab. Actually… it’s precisely *BECAUSE* of the nanoscopic proportions that we’ve emphasized builtins and detailed finish work. And degree-by-degree we’re measuring progress toward completion. Even the cabinetry in icehouse loft is beginning to take shape.
An endoskeleton for the soon-to-be loft shelving has begun to take shape. Shop-built carcasses fabricated by Bernie Liberty have been delivered and installation has begun. Lining the north and south knee walls, these reading repositories will soon be lined with bound words… (Source: Loft Shelving)
Cabinetry in Icehouse Loft (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
I accompanied my April 25, 2023 update with a haiku — a loft shelving haiku, of course, — brimming with bookish confidence. Bookshelf confidence, at least. I acknowledged my exuberance at the time.
A little forward leaning, I suppose. Aspirational. Projecting, courtesy of my imagination, a few weeks forward… (Source: Loft Shelving)
A few weeks forward?!?!
“Piece of pie,” the carpenter responded in January when we discussed the icehouse loft cabinetry. He estimated “a couple of weeks” to fabricate and install the cabinets. My optimistic update (referenced above) was posted three months later when some carcasses had been delivered, and the first units were installed. Hhhmmm… Almost two months after that the face frame is joining the ensemble. Hurrah!
Cabinetry in Icehouse Loft (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
I frequently remind Carley that anticipation is half the pleasure. She remains unconvinced, but lately I’ve been reminding myself that this isn’t just a patience mantra. There’s more than a kernel of truth in it. An aphoristic cousin to “distance makes the heart grow fonder”, perhaps?
However we account for it, I’m relieved and more than a little thrilled to see my loft cabinetry coming together. Since this space will be my study, the lofty locus of my productivity, I have a vested interest in the timely and reliable execution of this builtin storage. A tidy workspace is a productive workspace! Heck, I’m overflowing with aphorisms today. And even an autogamous poem…
Study & Studio Haiku
Lo lofty locus, penning’s, typing’s, doodling’s manufactory.
Speaking of anticipation, years of hope and expectation have fertilized the vision for my study-studio in the icehouse loft. A picture perfect panacea! And yet, I recognize the zealous overreach, understand that degrees of recalibration may be necessary. Soon.
Loft Cabinetry
With luck I’ll follow this post soon with a celebratory bookend to this project. Perhaps “a couple of weeks” will have extended into a couple of seasons, but I’ll be able to migrate my books and files and fountain pens and miscellaneous mementos into their new shelves and cabinets. I’ll be able to position my desk beneath the east side gable window and occupy the chair with a view for productive mornings in my loft. Ah, Elysium.
My mind meanders, doubling back on an exchange with Pam this past winter.
Geo: Builtins will combine open shelving (note dimension changes per our meeting) and cabinet doors (paint grade shaker style with flat panel and no panel molding) concealing deep cabinet storage. Please review plans and help me determine whether or not we can/should fabricate in-house or subcontract to a cabinetry shop. (Note: I’m hoping to evaluate whether or not our team is well suited to undertaking this mostly shop-work carpentry, and whether or not it is the most pragmatic use of our resources.
Pam: Builtins have been snapped out. I have a cabinet maker stopping in tomorrow to see the scope of work and discuss his availability.
Willing forward motion — cabinetry installation, final painting, hardware, and… migrating from the house to the icehouse — in the coming days.
After months of icehouse rehabilitation, this door is no longer needed. But it still has plenty of life left in it. Given Tony’s commitment to this project since day one, it feels especially appropriate that he’ll be able to re-home this ready-to-hang door. Architectural salvage with an individualized backstory!
Re-Homing & Reusing
Baked into the icehouse rehab (and sooo much of our +/-17 year love affair with Rosslyn) is the inclination to salvage and rehabilitate, to recycle and upcycle, to repurpose and reuse. Whether the old piano we discovered in the carriage barn or the stone cistern/cesspool that was disinterred during replanting of an evergreen hedge last summer, we’ve been keen to reimagine obsolete and abandoned artifacts in new, useful ways.
Do you remember this?
We’re hoping to “re-home” our AMT 626 John Deere “truckling”… While… a reliable workhorse since, well, since forever (1990-ish, maybe?!?!) it’s old enough that we’re not feeling like a sale is the right option. We’re less interested in trading it for your hard earned loot and more interested in finding the best next chapter for this handsome beast of burden. Who can offer the most idyllic retirement (gentle work, lots of love, and maybe a nice nickname?) for this decades’ old John Deere? (Source: Re-Homing John Deere AMT 626)
Here’s a quick attempt to explain one of the many inclinations for our reuse commitment.
So much of our good fortune as Rosslyn’s stewards has been inherited from generations before us. Responsible ownership, conscientious preservation, and magnanimous spirits account for the life we’ve enjoyed on this property. We endeavor to follow in that tradition… (Source: Re-Homing John Deere AMT 626)
In other words, Rosslyn has tutored us in the merits of conservation and preservation, rehabilitation and reinvention, generosity and sharing. That this temporary means to secure and insulate access during our icehouse rehab will now be re-employed year round at Tony’s home is an apt destiny for this door.
More Re-Homing Soon…
Please note that I will be announcing additional re-homing opportunities in the weeks and months ahead. Are you interested?
The art of home is a tidy title with an unpretentious posture. And yet it’s idealistic and evocative, ample and ambitious. Frankly, its restrained and self contained first impression is a little misleading. Maybe even a little ambiguous. What do I even mean? I’m not offering a catchy epithet for design and decor. Nor architecture. And yet, it certainly may include some or all of these. When I describe the art of home, I’m conjuring several things at once.
In conjoining art and creativity with home-ness, I’m alluding to my own personal outlook on an intrinsic relationship between the two as well as an aspirational goal. Home isn’t science. Or, home isn’t only science (or even mostly science.) Sure, there’s science and math and all manner of practical, detail and data driven inputs in transforming a house into a home. But there’s much more. There’s a profoundly personal, subjective, intimate relationship at play in the act of homemaking. And, in the best of circumstances, essential circumstances in my opinion, home becomes a sanctuary for creating, an oasis for art.
All of this binds art-ing and homing. The art of home is a look at the homeness of art and the art of homing. It is an attempt to discern what allows one’s domestic sanctuary to transcend mere utility (a garage to cache one’s car, a grill to sear one’s supper, a nest within which to sleep, a shower with which to wash away the sleep and sweat), to transcend the housing function and become a place of growth and nurturing, an incubation space, a revitalizing space, a dreaming and dream-fulfilling space,…
In the photograph at the top of this post you can see the icehouse, mid-rehabilitation, tucked in beside the carriage barn, both frosted in snow like fairy tales illustrations or gingerbread confections. After a decade and a half my slowly percolating art of home has matured from a pipe dream into a concept into a clutch of sketches into construction plans into a creative collaborative of many. And for a few short weeks I’m privileged to participate daily, to engage in a real and hands-on way after participating from afar, participating virtually. It’s a peculiar but exciting transition. An ongoing transition.
The Art of Home: Poem Excerpt
I’ve been excavating through layers of creativity compressed into, and coexisting within, my notion of homeness. While shaping a house into a home is in and of itself a creative art — indeed a nearly universal creative art, even among those quick to volunteer that they are not artistic, not creative — I’m deeply curious about my awn associations with home as a cradle and catalyst of art. I’m trying to tease apart these different layers of art in a still embryonic poem, so I’ll include only a section about gardening, a creative pursuit that I inherited from my mother decades ago.
...composing a garden,
my own personal patch,
from selecting seeds —
corn, radishes pumpkins,
tomatoes, and sunflowers —
to turning the soil,
working compost
into last summer's
stems and stalks,
into clay clodded dirt,
into July-August hopes.
Watering and weeding,
thinning, scarecrowing,
suckering, and staking...
Composing a garden is but one of the many instances that the art of home means something to me. Cooking. Writing. Telling stories. Pruning the orchard. Entertaining guests. Landscaping. Drawing. Adapting old buildings into new lifestyle enabling and enriching spaces.
The Art of Home: Documentary
At the heart of Rosslyn Redux is a quest to discern and describe what I’m learning about the art of home. But there is still more question than answer. I’m still untangling my thoughts, still reaching for some sort of clarity that might improve my ability to communicate concisely what I have found so captivating, and why it has obsessed me for so long.
But I’m not there there. My journey is ongoing. So I will, for now, offer another perspective on the art of home, a captivating documentary that obliquely sheds light upon our Santa Fe / Essex home duality.
Two indigenous artists create new works reflecting on their tribal homelands, the Wind River Indian Reservation. Ken Williams (Arapaho) is a Santa Fe art celebrity and Sarah Ortegon (Shoshone) is an up-and-coming actress in Denver. Both artists travel to Wind River Reservation to reconnect with their ancestors and present their art work to a somewhat isolated community. (Source: The Art of Home: A Wind River Story,PBS)
Intertwined with Sarah Ortegon’s and Ken Williams’s extended meditation on the relationships between art, creative expression, identity, home, culture, family, and belonging are the perspectives of other Native Americans including George Abeyta who touches on home as a place of strength.
“Your home, it’s a place of your family. It’s a place of warmth and comfort and strength and happiness. It’s the place where were you look forward to going because that’s your stronghold. That’s your place of prayer.” — George Abeyta
In the context of beadwork Abeyta is examining it feels seamless and comfortable the way we moves from beading motifs to home as a bastion of strength, as a stronghold. Also a space where family, warmth, comfort, happiness, and even prayer coexist. Perhaps even where they are rooted, where they thrive. The subject of his reflection, a beaded ornament akin to a necktie, is an intricate work of art, and as such it functions as a vehicle or a vessel to showcase and honor these fundamental elements. This notion of home, and more specifically the art of home, as a sort of sacred space for strength and belonging, for identity and connectedness, for family and for happiness resurfaces throughout this documentary. I encourage you to make time (just under an hour) to appreciate it from beginning-to-end.
Another exciting, we’re-getting-close communiqué to share today: the glass shower enclosure in the icehouse bathroom has been installed. While these photographs may not do the shower justice (a little bit of perspective distortion, perhaps?), the progress is worth trumpeting because it represents one more notable stride toward completion.
The glass and polished nickel shower enclosure looks ample in the snapshot above. It’s not. The entire building is diminutive, and the bathroom is super compact. The shower? Even more so! But for now we’ll enjoy the exaggerated perspective, a little eye candy to balance the snug proportions of the *REAL* (ie. not distorted by the mysterious magic of digital photograph) glass shower enclosure.
The photo below provides greater verisimilitude, and it helps orient the pedestal sink adjacent to the shower, a sneak peek at the bathroom as it will appear once complete (if we can manage to photograph this small space without continuing to distort dimensions and proportions, a challenge when quarters are tight.
Speaking of glass and nickel, I requested that Superior Glass Company (who templated, fabricated, and installed the glass shower enclosure) match the shower enclosure’s 1/2” clear tempered glass and gently beveled edges with glass shelves that we’ll be floating inside the garapa niche. Here are the shelves, ready to install.
Glass Shelves for Niche (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
I’m still sourcing polished nickel pins (or similar shelf supports) albeit unfruitfully so far. Soon I’m hoping to locate minimalist hardware finished in polished nickel suitable to support these rather stout shelves. Proportion is important, and so far I’m only finding undersized pins…
While my poppy passion is no secret to Rosslyn Redux readers, I’m less vocal about my partiality to wild flora like trillium and Jack-in-the-Pulpit. One learns to protect these treasures!
But today I pause for an overt gawk at this exotic Jack-in-the-Pulpit, a sylvan surprise with almost impossibly green and purple stripes.
Jack-in-the-Pulpit (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Jack-in-the-Pulpit (Arisaema triphyllum sensu stricto or Arisaema triphyllum s.s.) is one of the most extravagant spring flourishes our woodlands offer. Coming across this beauty recalibrates, we’ll, just about everything. The day, the week, one’s mood, one’s wonder, one’s optimism. A gift of nature. A gift of springtime.
Beyond the beauty, there is mystery. A wondrous, semi sibylline wild neighbor. Let’s take look…
Jack-in-the-Pulpit (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Jack-or-Jill-in-the-Pulpit
Let’s take a look at the reproductive realm.
The inflorescence can be male (with male flowers only), bisexual (with both male and female flowers), or female (with female flowers only). In a small plant, most if not all of the flowers are male. As the plant matures and grows larger, the spadix produces female flowers as well as male flowers. The transition from male to female continues until eventually the plant produces female flowers only. This is an example of dichogamy, a rare phenomenon in flowering plants. Due to this sex-change lifecycle, this species is sometimes called colloquialy as Jack or Jill in the pulpit or Jill-in-the-pulpit. (Source: Wikipedia, June 23, 2023)
Fascinating, right? Let’s look into “dichogamy” a little further.
Sequential hermaphroditism (called dichogamy in botany) is one of the two types of hermaphroditism, the other type being simultaneous hermaphroditism. It occurs when the organism’s sex changes at some point in its life. In particular, a sequential hermaphrodite produces eggs (female gametes) and sperm (male gametes) at different stages in life. Sequential hermaphroditism occurs in many fish, gastropods, and plants. Species that can undergo these changes do so as a normal event within their reproductive cycle, usually cued by either social structure or the achievement of a certain age or size. (Source: Wikipedia, June 23, 2023)
And you thought I was just showcasing an extravagant bloom! Sometimes nature amplifies our perspective, offering a fresh twist on ideas we consider in other aspects of life…
I’m thrilled to showcase the icehouse’s west facade with new double doors flanked with full-height side lites. What a transformation. With the west elevation doorway installed we’re approaching the point where reality resembles Tiho’s renderings.
Rendering for Icehouse Rehabilitation, West Elevation (Source: Tiho Dimitrov)
Remember that west elevation drawing Tiho created to help the team visualize where we were headed? The image below captures the same view, the partially fenestrated west facade, just prior to the day the west elevation doorway was installed.
Partially Fenestrated West Facade (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
I jumped the gun, announcing fenestration progress when we were still short of completion.
Aside from window and door trim, three out of four elevations — east (above), south, and north — are now exhibiting their close-to-final appearance. (Source: Fenestrated Facades)
One of the many workflow challenges we’ve navigated was delaying installation of the glass doors.
Only the west elevation (below) is still waiting on installation of the 1st floor double doors and flanking windows. And that’s on hold until flooring is complete. So, hopefully soon! (Source: Fenestrated Facades)
Once the double doors, flanked with windows, four glass apertures balancing the gable window above, are installed, this west-facing elevation will allow for a seamless interplay of interior and exterior living area. So long anticipated, these fenestrated facades are beginning to bridge the envisioned and the actual. (Source: Fenestrated Facades)
And here it is! West wall opening, doors being installed.
Installing West Elevation Doorway (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
With Peter overseeing, Matt (green shirt) and Supi (red shirt) secured and fine tuned the Marvin double door unit. In the photo below they appear to be celebrating their success. Actually, rather than a victory lap I think they’re troubleshooting to ensure the install was perfectly executed.
Installing West Elevation Doorway (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
And then came the glass slabs flanking the doors.
West Elevation Doorway (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Once trimmed, these four glass apertures will be mulled into a contiguous element that looks as handsome from without as within. Soon I promise to share the inside-out perspective!
More good news this morning: the icehouse coving is complete!
It looks so seamless, so simple now that the woodwork is joined, the discrete elements have coalesced, and the paint has dried. Integration. Cohesion. Hurrah!
Coving Complete (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Only a few months ago, this vision — more mirage than meaningful map forward — danced in my imagination. It was a problem to solve, actually a couple of problems, plus the possibility of an elegant if understated solution.
During my recent on-site meetings with the team I discussed a specific twist that needs resolving in order to move forward with coving construction (and tie-rod fabrication). There are ledgers along the north wall and south wall top plates that were installed in 2006 as part of our roof rebuild. All of the rafters land on these ledgers. The rebuilt roof is robust in part because of this interesting workaround, but it creates a 1-1/2” step near the top of the wall that introduces an impediment (or possibly a benefit) for coving construction. Basically, our construction plan (A402, detail 4) does not account for this plane discrepancy. I’m endeavoring to integrate the step structurally into the cove construction. Although this structural element creates an added challenge, I actually think that it might contribute to a pragmatic solution… [However, this] idea doesn’t (yet) integrate electrical, focusing just on structural and finish integration. (Source: Ciphering on Icehouse Coving)
The electrical uncertainty pertained to low voltage lighting that is being concealed above the north and south side coving, gently illuminating the vaulted ceiling and allowing for a shadow line above the coving. (See the coiled wire in the image below?) That installation comes next. Here’s hoping that the results match up with my hopes…
Coving Nearing Completion (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Pieces of the Puzzle
The snapshot directly above and the next one below, offer a glimpse into the carpentry process for fabricating the coving detail. Multiple constituent parts comprise this otherwise subtle, understated design element.
Like pieces of a three-dimensional puzzle finding their companions, the intricate borders, contours, and profiles fuse into a whole. With an ooold structure like this late 19th century icehouse, there’s another challenging. Few, if any, angles are true. Corners are infrequently 90°, walls bow and they’re rarely plumb. So scribing and fine-tuning are constant and critical. Measure, cut, fit, tune, refit, re-tune,…
Coving Nearing Completion (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
But, little by little, headway is made. And, as you can observe in the almost complete coving photo and the post-paint photo below, diverse puzzle pieces pull together and begin to merge. There’s a profoundly rewarding coalescence as heterogeneous components form a homogeneous ensemble. From pieces, emerge a whole.
Coving Nearing Completion (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Doubling Back…
Wait what?!?! How did we get here? What did I miss?
If you’re perplexed with my quasi communion-esque enthusiasm for carpentry-conjoining bits and pieces of wood into architectural poetry, I understand. I offer you my sincere condolences. My peculiar propensity to understand (and communicate) creative processes — and I’m speaking in sweeping, inclusive, and trade androgynous terms from gardening and landscaping to construction and cabinetry, writing and theatre to dance and song — in analogous and overlapping ways. It’s not a bug, it’s a feature!
But let’s double back a beat or three in case the coving journey slipped past unexamined.
Structural integration for coving in the icehouse’s vaulted ceiling area is now complete… wrapping around the north, west, and south walls at the height where ceiling and the north/south walls meet… a new horizontal ledger has been installed and the “shelf” has been fastened underneath. (Source: Icehouse Coving Progress)
From unanticipated challenge to opportunity, from draftsman’s drawing to incongruous field conditions, a carpenter’s quiver need be equipped with *BOTH* skill and art. Fortunately our team is innovative and creative and persistent. Hurdles are chances to share ideas and collaborate on workarounds.
The next step will be to encase the 2x8s with trim (dimensional poplar) that will meet up with T&G nickel gap paneling on the ceiling and walls as shown above. Cove crown will be installed beneath the shelf, and an aluminum track will be installed in the corner of the shelf to secure LED strip lighting. (Source: Icehouse Coving Progress)
Now we’re ready for the strip lighting. Imagine the view below as it will appear once the cove on the right is gently backlit…
Coving Complete (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
With a flicker of fortune, I’ll be posting that update soon!
A couple of weeks ago I shared a “Flooring Sneak Peek” and four days ago I shared an update on the icehouse flooring focused on “Variable Width Floorboards”. Today I’m pleased to announce that the mixed species ash and elm flooring installation is complete. Eureka!
Many, many months into our homegrown, stump-to-floor journey, the first floor of the icehouse is complete.
You may recall that we decided to mix ash and elm for the icehouse flooring, showcasing a decade and a half worth of lumber that we had harvested, milled, seasoned, dimensioned, and finished on-site. (Source: Variable Width Floorboards)
And the result is simply sensational. Character-rich wood exhibiting a remarkable breadth and depth of color and pattern.
Note that these snapshots were taken shortly after installation was completed. Still ahead? Sanding and sealing. This still anticipated floor finishing will further enhance the natural grain and hues of the ash and elm.
For a change I’m actually at a loss for words. Such a slow, painstaking labor of love, from long ago felled timber to meticulously dimensioned and plained flooring… it’s been a quest!
Spring-into-summer is a celebratory parade of gastronomic gateways. Nettles, ramps, fiddleheads, asparagus, rhubarb,… So many seasonal ingredients and tastes. And now it’s radish time!
Ready for Radish Time? (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
These early French Breakfast Radishes are almost impossibly delicious. Crisp and spicy. Uniquely refreshing.
The French Breakfast Radish (Raphanus sativus) is [an] early summer classic — and perennial staple of Rosslyn’s vegetable garden — [that]… tends to be mild (less “spicy” than other standard radishes) if harvested and eaten early…(Source: French Breakfast Radish)
Ready for French Breakfast Radish time? (Illustration: Geo Davis)
Perhaps four years living in Paris account for my preference, but these early season benisons — as enticing to the eyes as to the tongue — beguile me year after year.
Radishes (my favorite are French Breakfast Radishes) celebrate precocious summer’s spicy return with vibrant, bye-bye-mud-season colors, a super satisfying crunch, and tastebud reviving explosions of peppery sweetness. (Source: Radishes and Radish Greens)
Such sweet springtime seduction. Love at first crunch. New and invigorating each year despite familiarity and anticipation.
And that’s just the red and white taproot. To be sure, the tuberous vegetable is what we envision when radishes are on the menu. But they’re only part of the radish time rewards.
Radishes aren’t just crunchy eye candy for crudités. Radishes are nutritious. Especially the radish greens! (Source: Radishes and Radish Greens)
That’s right. The lush greens you snatch to lift a ripe radish from the soil are a delight themselves.
As with standard radish varieties, the “radish greens” of the French Breakfast Radish can also be eaten. Washed and tossed into a saucepan of olive oil (or avocado oil), garlic, and onion, this wilted green is a delicious accompaniment…(Source: French Breakfast Radish)
Whether wilted alone or mixed with spinach and shredded Swiss chard, these nutrient rich greens will improve your plate. And radish greens sautéed then puréed with cream (or nondairy alternative such as Macadamia milk) make a delicate soup as pretty as it is piquant.
