My ideal plant is one I can forget about completely, and then, when I remember it again, it’s ready to eat. Asparagus works this way, for instance, and we were lucky enough to move into a house with asparagus already established. Last year, to add to our no-maintenance bevy, we planted some rhubarb crowns my dad picked up from a neighbor. We then ignored them while it didn’t rain for two months and the grasshoppers decimated them. So we figured they were shot. Until yesterday when we were bushwhacking our way to the prairie and discovered them. Huge and healthy and ready to harvest. So it’s rhubarb quick bread this morning. And a great feeling of hope and success that perhaps our garden will produce after all.