Beneath an Edible Canopy

The long, rustic table is laden with platters of vegetables, grilled fish, crusty bread, good wine. Mama and Papa (that's me and Eliot) smile beneficently as three generations feast on the garden's bounty, with babies crawling and toddlers toddling on the patio stones at our feet. Every now and then someone reaches up and plucks a bunch of ripe grapes from the vines on the arbor above.

It's the perfect fantasy of the foodie gardener, and this year it is finally turning to reality. The crop of grandchildren was slow in coming, and the grapes we planted have taken their time to ascend the arbor -- a fine structure built from rebar by our neighbor -- but this year there is finally some leafy shade. "Peasant splendor" about describes the lifestyle to which we aspire, and this grape ceiling is splendid indeed.

A wisteria might do just as well, but why miss a chance to plant something you can eat? In fact, the grapes have proved such a happy marriage of shade and dessert that we've begun another edible landscaping project with them. This time it's a long allee of rebar arches, supported by six-foot cedar posts, on which more vines eventually will grow. It has started us thinking about what else you could plant that would give you shade, beauty and food all at once. Hardy kiwi vines ( Actinidia kolomikta ) come to mind. Their long, rampant vines must be anchored to supports so that they will climb, but then they will produce a mass of leaves, some splashed with pink and white, and tiny, sweet green fruits. The native passionflower ( Passiflora incarnata ), also called maypop, bears yellow, egg-shaped fruits that make a good jelly. Even if the vines die back to the ground in winter, there's still enough growth in one season to make a canopy, with lovely white-and-purple flowers as a bonus. Unlike the more exotic passionflowers, this one is hardy to Washington's Zone 7. I have even seen blackberries trained on arches to make a living green tunnel.

Planting vegetables on an arbor might seem a bit bizarre, but why not? There was nothing at all peasant-like about the great English gardener Rosemary Verey, but her splendid landscape at Barnsley House in Gloucestershire contained a marrow arch. "Vegetable marrow" is the British name for squash, and Mrs. Verey's arch had long, green, cylindrical ones dangling from it. Xa Tollemache, who strikes an elegant pose against a tree in Tessa Traeger and Patrick Kinmonth's lavish book, "A Gardener's Labyrinth," is noted for integrating vegetables into her ornamental gardens at Helmingham Hall in Suffolk. A photo shows a wide tunnel of iron arches clothed with gourds in outrageous shapes and colors -- some round and warty, others like gold bowling pins tipped at the bottom with green, others striped like a clown's britches. The effect is brilliant.

I asked Steve Bellavia at Johnny's Selected Seeds which edible gourds might do well on an arch or an arbor. He said the snake, loofah and bitter gourds would all be fine, although Jade, a wax gourd from India, might be too heavy. He also suggested trellising a two-pound acorn squash called Tuffy, and the charmingly green-striped Sweet Dumpling. As for Mrs. Verey's marrows, it's not easy to find a vining summer squash. Most have a compact bush habit. But I've grown the old Italian tromboncino types such as Zucchetta Rampicante, available from Pinetree Garden Seeds ( http://www.superseeds.com/ ), and Zucchetta Trombolina from John Scheepers Kitchen Garden Seeds ( http://www.kitchengardenseeds.com/ ), both of which climb.

Scarlet runner beans are an obvious choice because their flowers are so pretty, but any vigorous pole bean could work -- say, a combination of yellow wax beans and purple-podded ones for contrast. Or the exotic "yard-long bean" ( Vigna unguiculata ), especially the burgundy variety Red Noodle, which Johnny's carries ( http://www.johnnyseeds.com/ ). Or even a good old superpower green bean like Fortex, as yummy as it is vigorous. I've had great luck training baby pumpkins on a tall fence, and they would look adorable dangling above your head. You could even grow a long vining cucumber such as Socrates on an arbor -- not as romantic as reaching for a bunch of grapes, perhaps, but practical.

Having a perennial vine like a grape already in place, to leaf out in spring, might seem to make the most sense. But most annual vining vegetables will make enough growth to shield you from August's heat. For a brief moment I even considered tomato vines. I'd love their summery, tomatoey smell and bright red fruits -- that is, until an overripe one slipped off the vine and onto the lap of my white cotton sundress. Peasant I may be, but that is not part of the fantasy.