An Urban Veg Patch

One day winter

2012-02-07T18:33:00.000Z

Well, it was fun while it lasted. After freezing nights and a great deal of anticipation, our 3 inches of settled snow properly lasted only one day. (Although I may be speaking too soon.)

Yesterday the streets nearby had started to turn to a nasty slush and the air temperature was relatively mild, considering there was thawing snow on the ground. Who knows what the rest of February has in store? But, just in case that snowfall is all we're having of winter, I thought I'd best take a few snaps for posterity.

~ Monarda seed head against the snow. The green is fennel. ~

~ Footprints show that a fox has visited, as have several little birds. ~

This photo reminds me that I need to cut back my autumn fruiting raspberry canes. This is a job which should be done very soon, otherwise last year's canes will begin to grow and the idea is to have a better harvest by cutting at least half of them back. (I'm experimenting with a tip to see the difference between cutting some to the ground and leaving some at 40 cm - should give me an earlier crop. )

~ The winter veg patch ~

And here's the veg patch in the snow. Looks a bit of a mess and reminds me that there's a lot of work to be done once the ground thaws. The lovely thing is that if I look back in a few months, this view will have completely changed. I'm thinking about what to plant where in order to make best use of the space and, rather excitingly, our new Director of Housing has said that he's all for expanding the space into a kitchen garden! ... but perhaps I should have got that in writing. The cot sides and trellis panels, by the way, were all found over the summer months discarded by the road and dragged back as quick protection to keep cats out of newly planted beds. I must plan a way to fix them from toppling over because they do work.

And I couldn't leave this post without a pic of the snowman that the kids made, could I? This chap was resisting the thaw yesterday and standing guard over the other end of the garden. One benefit of living on an estate where there's plenty of clean snow for building with!

Flowerpot fez, dogwood arms and bark chipping for eyes.
(Coal is a bit hard to come by around here!)

Without wishing to sound too curmudgeonly, I'm quite pleased that the snow has almost gone. Things are definitely easier without it, although I suppose the children were hoping for a few days off school. (Our schools remained open, thank goodness.)

That settles it

2012-02-05T15:23:00.000Z

Finally! Winter's here, proper snow, face and finger numbing cold, heating on, hot buttered toast (or crumpets) at teatime with a large steaming mug of tea. The sense of anticipation over the last couple of days has been huge; I felt properly excited at the prospect of wintry weather descending and yesterday evening, sometime around 7 p.m. a light, persistent misting of snow started to fall over north London, leaving a good few inches to wake up to this morning.

Seen at Camden Lock Market yesterday afternoon -
the waterbus frozen into its dock.

Now it feels like we're having a proper winter, the traditional seasons have re-asserted themselves and once the February freeze is finished, we can confidently begin the process of nurturing our seeds into life. What a relief. I hope that doesn't appear churlish; being snuggled within the reaches of an overheated city, I'm relieved to know where I stand, weather wise. On the other hand, I can fully appreciate that if you're currently cut off from access to the nearest supermarket, you might not see things in the same light.

Recent warm sunny daytime temperatures had prompted thoughts of sowing a few herb seeds on the balcony. Thankfully I resisted. Instead, last weekend, I successfully split and repotted a floppy supermarket chive plant. Spring is the time to divide clumps of chives growing outside so I thought why not try this with my windowsill chive? It was beginning to look very sorry for itself, not far from that moment when you know that your supermarket herb will keel over regardless. Do or die time, I thought, as I removed the pot. Have you seen how many bulbs are crammed into one tiny pot? And, bizarrely, it looked as though the roots had been cut off close to the bulbs. Now, divided into six clumps and repotted into good fresh seed compost, the plants seem much happier and are throwing up flower shoots. Incidentally, chives grown from seed should be left to grow for a year then moved to their permanent position after frosts have passed.

~ Divided we stand; united we fall! ~

And the last essential job of the week was to move the veg patch lemon tree. Poor little thing suffered last year by being exposed to the full blast of winter and dropped all its leaves. It's pot grown so, this year, I've brought it upstairs to my tiny balcony, a space not much bigger than a metre square, and covered it with fleece protection. I'm working on the theory that the proximity to the flat creates a sheltered micro-climate for my plants but I'm still going to mulch the roots with straw, just in case!

February is forecast to be typically very cold. Good. The soil will be conditioned and soil borne pests and diseases will be zapped by the frost - ready for it all to begin again. Now, warm wellies on, I'm off to find my straw and check the snow damage in the garden. I hope that all my gardening friends will have heeded weather warnings and been able to protect their plants in time. Keep warm people!

A garden story for children

2012-01-30T17:32:00.001Z

I shall apologise in advance to any readers who already know this book; I'm only very recently aware of it and delighted to have found it. I love both reading and gardening so, when I find a book that encompasses both of these loves, I want to share it. I found this book, Rose's Garden, in the children's section of my local library. It was the illustrations that caught my eye; they're reminiscent of Quentin Blake's work (a favourite illustrator) but, in fact, are the work of the author, Peter H Reynolds. I would hope that all children love stories and being read to and I find it's a particularly nice way to start or finish a spot of gardening with children. For one thing, it makes sure you have their attention, whether you want to tell them what's planned or whether it's time to stop, clear up and go.

I have a collection of really nice children's books about gardening, some that I enjoyed reading to my son when he was younger ('Oliver's Vegetables', for example) and some more recent finds. This one is definitely a keeper (as in, I'll be buying it, not purloining it from the library - heaven forbid), if only because it reminds me ... of me! (In the sense that I have a vision of how colourful the garden here could be - except I don't travel in a fantastic teapot, more's the pity.)

The story is a simple one about Rose, who collects seeds on her travels. When her teapot is full up, it's time to plant her garden and she finds herself in a busy city.

"This little patch needs some colour."

She chooses a forgotten stretch of earth and gets to work, imagining what a colourful place it could be. On returning to the teapot to get her seeds, she finds the birds have eaten them, leaving just a small handful behind. She sows these seeds and patiently waits through the seasons but to no avail.

"A girl approached with a present. It was a paper flower."

Word spreads of Rose's faith in her garden and children of many cultures bring paper flowers that they've made for her garden. Gradually the garden fills with glorious colour from thousands of paper flowers. Then, one day, Rose hears a bee buzzing and realises that her seeds have grown and real flowers are blooming among the paper ones.

"Her faith had gathered a garden – and the stories of a city."

Lovely, isn't it?

I like to think everyone who gardens is doing exactly this: making friends, building communities and having faith that their work will result in colour and beauty. I'd love to believe that this story will continue to be read to children and inspire a future generation of gardeners.

First signs?

2012-01-25T19:17:00.000Z

I love the synchronicity of the gardening world; bloggers are commenting on the first signs of spring, trees beginning to bud, bulbs pushing through the soil and anxiously hoping that a harsh but late winter isn't waiting just around the corner. I'm not going to offer an opinion on the weather as it has a nasty habit of contradicting me soon after I've published my thoughts.

But I'm no different from other gardeners in getting hopeful of an early spring. Today, as I peeked out onto my balcony, I was excited to notice this tiny little patch of new growth. This is French Tarragon, new to the balcony last year and frankly, a bit spindly in it's first year. I thought it had died but resolved to wait until spring to make sure. Now it looks as though it will be a good, sturdy addition to the herbs at my disposal - even if it is still only one inch tall. And in case the weather turns, I have a cut down water bottle as an impromptu cloche to protect the plant if needed.

Other bloggers' posts have reminded me that I have to sow onion seed and broad beans now. (Actually, like Jo at The Good Life, I intensely disliked broad beans as a child but I'm tempted by some rather beautiful pink beans I've spotted on the internet.) Also, I couldn't find the white onion sets I wanted and one bulb had run to seed late last year so I rather laboriously dried the seed head and saved the seed. It will be the first time I've grown onions from seed, so an interesting challenge lies ahead. I may even have to invest in a little balcony sized wooden greenhouse I've seen - I think I'm going to need it now my seed list is nearly finished!

~ Snowball white onion seeds - sorting the seeds from the chaff. ~

Pin-spiration and planning

2012-01-22T15:12:00.000Z

Okay, officially slap my wrist. Three weeks without posting? Very remiss of me. So... what have I been up to, apart from looking out at the skies and seeing beautiful sunrises?

* Looking east at 7.30 a.m. - spectacular sunrise *

Actually, not a lot on the physical gardening front. Apart from removing a good peppering of calling cards from local felines. (I take issue with cats pooping in my raised beds ... sorry, cat lovers out there but, seriously, it IS disgusting.) Okay, so I need to net off all my beds to prevent this type of nuisance but then the beds become less accessible. It's a lose/lose situation for me.

Calendula is still flowering, so - snip, snip with my fabulous Felcos - a bit of deadheading is prolonging that. Cowslips and herbs seem to have survived last weekend's frost. Winter veg seems dormant for now, unsurprisingly, as the weather has been on the chilly side of late. And I've dug up and moved a cherry tree. I'm using the term 'I' very loosely here; my neighbour Frank dug, I directed. Community gardening at it's best.

Otherwise time has been spent trying to plan what to grow in the garden this year; taking the time to reflect on the ups and downs of last year, leafing through seed catalogues, being inspired by new plants, listing what's left over in the seed box. It can all get a bit much ... but then there's Pinterest. Pinterest isn't new to me, I've had boards on this site since its infancy after one of my favourite internet illustrators flagged it up on her blog. It's a lot of fun and absolutely distracting, somewhere to keep track of inspirational internet finds - and the perfect place to keep a visual record of the seeds that have caught my fancy (with links back to where I found those seeds).

* Just a small part of my Pinterest seed board *

Other methods I've tried include pieces of paper, small notebooks, copious post-it notes, collage pages and even paper clips. Just to digress for a moment: am I alone in getting overwhelmed by choice at this time of year? I read of gardeners knowing just what they want and getting the order in; my imagination, on the other hand, leaps from small veg patch to Versailles potager in one bound. Then I have to scale it all back down again.

The actual veg patch (formerly a small area set aside in the 1940s for tenants' children to garden) now sits in a sea of paving slabs with the occasional visual relief of a rectangle of grass or two at the edges. The west side is bounded by raised brick beds built against a high brick wall which is where we've planted fruit trees (and perennial cauliflowers). One of these borders is still overgrown with honeysuckle, ivy, dogwood and other shrubs; it needs to be cleared and replanted, all in good time. My problem is my imagination and those paving slabs. I badly want to dig them up; picture the growing space that would open up. Seriously, I'm a bit obsessed about it all: I wake up thinking about how the garden would look if I could turn at least half of it (the half I garden in) into a kitchen garden, a place for people to come and sit or potter round, as I do. Just this morning I saw a photo online of the refurbished kitchen garden in Waterlow Park, a nearby public space in Highgate.

* Waterlow Park kitchen garden/allotments. © Waterlow Park *

Pictures like this make me sigh with envy. Soil tests indicated very high levels of toxins in the soil, so raised beds were built and filled with fresh compost which are leased, like allotments, to local groups and schools - there's even a wildflower border to encourage bio-diversity.

* Waterlow Park wildflower border. © Waterlow Park *

(The photos are not mine. I've borrowed from their website; next weekend I'm going to see for myself.)

I noticed recently that in the 'gardens' of another of my landlords estates, the tenants had started to remove some of the paving, presumably to create a growing area. That project looked like it had been abandoned but it does give me hope that precedent has been set and I might be able to create something really beautiful here in York Rise. In the meantime, I feel a great responsibility to the people who've lived here and overlooked the gardens for many years. If I was unable, for whatever reason, to carry on, it would all have to be left in a manageable state. I guess that means I have to resist the temptation to dig up the paving stones and move the grass... or will I?

A brave new year

2012-01-01T13:20:00.001Z

This is a very heartfelt season's greetings and happy New Year to all friends and readers. Writing this blog has been made so much nicer thanks to all of you who pop in here, and on Facebook, to comment and say hello. Thank you, you continue to make it all worthwhile and it's much appreciated. xx

I must admit I was feeling rather glum yesterday. I sat down to write a post and it was so negative, I deleted it. I don't celebrate the turning of the year as my new year starts when the soil starts to warm and I can spend longer hours outdoors. My birthday is at the end of March - an Aries, if you believe such things - and that feels more like the new year for me.

I don't mind the shorter days of winter either, as long as there's a variation in the weather ... some winter sun would be nice, a sharp frost, some snow perhaps? I thrive on variety (and sunshine!) and, looking back over the year, I can see why I'm drawn back to the garden time and again. There's always something new, interesting ... surprising, even ... to be seen and it's been quite a revelation to look back and browse through my 2011 photos. I'd intended to choose one photo to sum up each month but, as ever, it all got a bit lengthy (42 photos in all, whooooops!) so I've put them in a slideshow. Watch if you wish. (It's also at the top of the page under the 2011 tab.)

My Christmas has been a nice time to relax but I'm now ready to carry on with jobs that need doing and the first thing is to sort out my seeds and start to make plans for the 2012 veg patch.

The postman brought new seed catalogues from both Chiltern Seeds (highlighted in Naomi's blog Out of Her Shed and delivered very quickly) and from Thompson and Morgan who have very good offers on potato tubers at the moment. (20 potato tubers for £2.99, presumably plus postage but I'll probably snap up a pack of Charlottes, my favourite salad potato.) My new Felco secateurs also arrived which was a happy moment - thank you UK Veg Gardeners! I meant to write about this yesterday but my internet was down - so frustrating after waiting for most of the holidays to get at the laptop (my son had commandeered it for his A level coursework, so needs must).

It just remains for me wish everyone the very best for 2012 as we go forth and garden together! I'm looking forward to reading your blogs in the months ahead.

Caro xx

Book Review - The Fruit Tree Handbook

2011-12-21T16:24:00.028Z

The veg patch has definitely embraced winter - I managed an hour of clearing and tidying in the garden at the weekend before my hands needed to warm up around a mug of hot chocolate. I noticed that the branches of the fruit trees are now completely bare, in contrast to a couple of weeks ago when it was 'too soon to prune'.

(Taken on the day of Winter Solstice - so dark in the midday that I had to photograph in the bathroom!)

This year I feel much better equipped to deal with pruning as I've received a copy of The Fruit Tree Handbook by Ben Pike. What I needed was a book that properly explained the how, why and wherefore of pruning and, in this book, I've got it. There's an entire chapter devoted to the subject: read this and the brain fog surrounding pruning will magically disperse. Every pair of secateurs sold should be accompanied by a copy of this chapter. For me, this is life-changing stuff and it's written in a really clear, logical way. No wonder I couldn't figure it out from a 2 page RHS handout - this one topic takes 22 pages to explain.

The author writes about the consequences of pruning lightly or hard, both immediate and long term, in producing both vegetative and fruiting growth. Terminology is clearly explained, supported by very good diagrams - laterals, sub-laterals, fruiting spurs, growth rings, leaf buds, one year old growth, two year old growth: all of these are now easily identified. Formative pruning, pruning techniques and a range of pruning tools are all comprehensively covered. And I now know the difference between tip bearing and spur bearing trees. And that's just the general skinny on pruning; information specific to each fruit is contained in later chapters.

The book is presented in four sections plus a glossary, appendices, resources and index; pruning falls into the section on Fruit Tree Management and is followed by a chapter on identifying, and organically controlling, pests and problems associated with fruit trees. Detailed information in the chapter reads like a medical dictionary for fruit, complete with graphic pictures that drive the point home. For me, this whole section would have been worth the cover price alone.

But there's so much more to this book. Ben is a man who is passionate about orchards (indeed, he's the Head Gardener at Sharpham Estate in Devon where he manages two orchards containing 150 fruit trees). So the third part of this book has separate chapters devoted to individual tree-grown fruits: apples, pears, plums, cherries, peaches & nectarines, apricots - and other fruit (figs, quinces, medlars, mulberries). You won't find shrub or cane fruit in here - we're talking Orchards. Tables neatly set out the unique characteristics of each variety and are listed in order of their time of cropping: for example, I could pick Beauty of Bath in early August and, by growing a variety of apples, carry on picking fresh fruit through to late October with a Winston apple (sweet-sharp, aromatic and nutty). I had almost completed my preparations to buy more trees for the York Rise garden but this section had me tearing up my list after reading the recommendations for dessert and cooking apple varieties. Ben sensibly advocates taking some time to deliberate over the final choice to make sure that what you grow is right for your garden and your needs and for storage, if you so wish. This is not something we did when the York Rise mini-orchard went in 3 winters ago as we opted for well known varieties: conference pears, braeburn apples, morello cherries and victoria plums. I've realised that I now have an opportunity to broaden the scope of the 'orchard' here by growing some more interesting varieties such as Pitmaston Pineapple ("an old variety with crisp and nutty, small sweet yellow apples") or Lord Lambourne ("crisp, juicy flesh, sweet with balancing acidity").

Both the first and last sections (Planning and Planting an Orchard; Renovating an Orchard and Building a Community Orchard) are more probably targeted towards the professional fruit grower and of less interest to the amateur gardener who may only want to grow a few trees but that, in my opinion, does not detract from making this a useful reference book for both.

The book concentrates on growing fruit but doesn't tell you what to do with your fruit once picked; Ben Pike leaves that to other experts. This is a handbook that reflects the author's love for the environment and for fruit trees. What you do get here is a wealth of knowledge that will benefit the trees in your care - written in an easy, flowing style that makes the information easily accessible and memorable, even for a novice like me. This is the author on the principles of pruning:

"Pruning fruit trees is a subject that seems to be shrouded in mystery. Many people, not really knowing where to start, are afraid of damaging their trees [...]; it is possible to harm fruit trees, either by pruning too hard, or pruning at the wrong time of year, but clear instructions and an understanding of the principles of pruning will allow you to make judicious cuts that will help your trees to prosper."

If, like me, you have any doubts about what to do when faced with any tree or shrub to prune, I recommend you give this book a try. You'll be in safe hands. And if you are yet to contemplate growing your own fruit, this book may just motivate you to find a space for a couple of trees in your garden. As the author says, by growing your own orchard, or just a few trees, you can grow the kind of apple that is perfect for you - with the added advantage of creating a habitat for all kinds of wildlife.

My (very grateful) thanks to Stacey Hodge at Green Books for sending the book.

Twit-Twoooo

2011-12-19T14:29:00.000Z

I've been giving the blog a gentle tweek - to my eye it still looks very cluttered - and part of that process is to succumb to joining Twitter. I'm not sure that I 'get' what it's all about; it seems to me a bit like eavesdropping on someone's phone conversation and then being able butt in which seems a tad impolite.

On the other hand, it can be quite fascinating to read what random thoughts are floating around tweetland. Just this morning, for example, Emma Cooper has had the builders in, Mark Diacono has been drinking a foul tasting watermelon smoothie, Dawn Isaac is painting her children's bedroom and Alys Fowler is geeking out on scientific research. So, a sort of virtual chat over virtual coffee is taking place - or is it the internet version of Big Brother? Put that way, I'm so going off it already. Back to my books, methinks. (Although please feel free to Tweet me if you so wish. The button is there, top right. I will join you over a cuppa.)

An award, a prize and some parcels ...

2011-12-17T13:53:00.001Z

I've had a really happy week. These last few days have brought unexpected and much appreciated surprises in the form of an award, a giveaway prize, a parcel of books and a winning entry in a photo competition. I'm not sure what I've done to deserve such abundance but it's certainly brought a smile to my face and given me a huge boost.

First, very warm thanks to Jo of The Good Life blog for including the Urban Veg Patch in her Liebster Award list. It's rather lovely to have this award as, even after a couple of years of blogging, I'm never sure if what I write is of sufficient interest beyond being a record for myself. Jo regularly takes the time to leave appropriate comments on my posts which is lovely to read and very reassuring. I've been reading Jo's blog now for over a year - and very good it is too.

As other bloggers have said, it's really nice when readers leave comments; it strengthens the online community and friendships are developed. I've met some lovely people through blogging, this year has been especially rewarding in that respect and awards such as this are a lovely way of introducing the blogs I enjoy to a wider audience. In order to accept the award, I have to follow a few simple rules:

Copy and paste the award on your blog - (check!)
Thank the giver and link back to them - (done with pleasure!)
Choose five blogs (with less than 200 followers) that you'd like to pass the award on to and leave a comment for them on their blog.

This last rule is where I thought I'd run into problems as many of the blogs I enjoy have already been chosen for the award by Jo's other blog nominees. But after carefully checking that I wasn't duplicating anyone's choices, these are the five that I would recommend:

Suburban Veg Plot
A Life Less Simple
Lovely Greens
Erin's Urban Organic Gardening in Sidney
Charlotte's Plot

These are all new to me this year and I've really enjoyed reading them and getting to know their authors a little bit and hope that others will find the time to pop over and take a look. (I would have added A Woman of the Soil, Wellywoman, Little Green Fingers and FlightPlot to this list but that would be flaunting the rules and we wouldn't want that.)

And what about my other luck? Well, it appears that one of my photos has earned me the first prize in the UK Veg Gardeners photo competition and I'm going to be the very lucky recipient of a pair of Felco No 7 secateurs! Obviously I'm over the moon at this but can't quite believe it as there were some stunning entries from other members. Congratulations to Mark at Mark's Veg Plot and Karen at The Garden Smallholder whose photos were also, very deservedly, chosen.

Unbelievably, shortly after the above news came my way, so did another email from Jo saying that I'd won the giveaway that she was hosting on her other blog, Through the Keyhole. My two childhood obsessions were with reading and making things, whether by sewing, knitting, drawing or building, so I'm really looking forward to the arrival of Jo's very generous parcel as I've won a copy of Cath Kidston's book 'Make!' (as well as other lovely things such as a tin of fudge - mmm, yum! - and a book of Victorian niceties.) Perfect timing as, with a few days off over Christmas, I intend to indulge in a spot of sofa flying (as Flighty would say).

But I did say parcels, didn't I? More than one? Yes. Because I've taught children's art clubs, gardened with children and our newly formed Transition Town will be hosting children's crafting workshops, CICO Books have sent me two rather lovely books to review. These are Green Crafts for Children(35 projects using natural, recycled and found materials) and My First Sewing Book. Both are beautifully photographed with some very interesting projects to make - perfect for ages 7 and up and just in time for Christmas. I have a weekend ahead of me and an enormous stash of crafting supplies so I'll be back with a review tomorrow.

The sun is shining here in London; I hope that each of you has some sunshine in your day too!

Caro xx

I've been eating Fat Babies

2011-12-09T13:57:00.000Z

There's not many places you could put a statement like that out in the open and not get immediately arrested but, in this case, it's absolutely true. They've been plucked, washed, sliced, gutted and fried in butter. And then eaten.

Fat Babies, or Achocha as they're also known, are my star experimental plant in the veg patch and balcony this year. Admittedly, I muddled my seed order and thought I was buying ExplOding Fat Babies so I was quite bemused to find that my babies were quite docile, if alarmingly vigorous in their growth.

I met gardener and author Alex Mitchell earlier this year and, over a mug of coffee in my sitting room, she spied the spiky Achocha fruits poking out of the vine growing across my balcony. Having just written an inspirational book about Edible Balconies, she was intrigued by this plant as I'd created a sort of mini Forest Garden on my tiny balcony. (It towered over herbs, tomatoes, chilli peppers, spinach, radishes, orache, beans, nasturtiums and violets.) But more of my balcony food growing later ... This post about Fat Babies is for Alex.

The seeds came from the Real Seed Company who describe the young fruits as tasting of sweet green peppers; personally, I find cooking them in butter reminds me of the taste of asparagus. (For me, this is good.) Other people have likened the taste to grass (less appealing), having taken to heart the advice that they can be chopped and eaten raw in salads. From my viewpoint, I'm just really pleased to be able to pick 'peppers' in December from the veg patch. Given the vagaries of the weather this autumn, I'm uncertain if this late harvest is usual but the plants grown on the balcony have just about finished while the plants in the veg garden are still fruiting - I counted nearly 20 fruits ready to be picked. I'm guessing that this is because the balcony plants had only a small window box to grow in and only saw the sun in the afternoon whereas the veg patch achocha had lots more sun and open space. Nevertheless, the vines grew up and across the pigeon netting, easily reaching 10 feet long from one spindly, seemingly dead stem.They put out long tendrils, rather like peas, that reach out for anything to grab and wrap around.

And, having found an anchor, form very strong spiral springs to keep their grip! An awesome protection system which has seen my Fat Babies sail through stormy weather this year.

I had two of these plants growing on the balcony and the vines filtered the sun beautifully all summer. Down in the veg patch, one solitary plant clambered around a 9 foot high cane wigwam and then got all tangled up as the vines had nowhere else to go. The vines can reach over 16 feet long! Real Seeds recommend that these should not be grown in a polytunnel as they can apparently completely take over, which I can easily believe. I think the plants would look lovely growing over a big wooden arch, like a grapevine, but they're an annual so die back in winter.

Achocha hails from South America, its Latin name is Cyclanthera brachystacha and, although it likes a nice sunny spot to grow in, it will happily thrive in the UK as long as the soil is free draining and kept moist. There are a few variants but Fat Baby have bright green flesh with soft spines and, if allowed to mature, large black jagged edged seeds which look like small beetles.

The fruits can be eaten at any size, small (about an inch) or large (up to 3 inches). The larger ones have to be split open and the seeds removed before being cooked. If the spines have started to go brown, I just rub them off. They tend to fall off anyway when the fruit is being sliced. I've added them to vegetable chillies and eaten them fried with mushrooms but they can be sliced into a salad or onto a pizza, particularly when small. I think they would also be very nice in a stir fry with noodles. In any recipe that calls for a green pepper, you can reach for several of these instead. The flesh is thinner than a supermarket green pepper (so less watery), the taste greener and less sweet. Because they're very small, you need quite a lot to cook with, probably at least 10 for one green bell pepper. But these are much more fun to look at. The original seeds supplied are non-hybrid and the company encourages future seed saving of all their seeds. Achocha seeds are very easy to collect because of their size so, come next April when we're all starting over, if anyone would like to try Achocha, I think I might just have a few spare.

Beautiful brassicas

2011-12-06T09:24:00.023Z

Earlier this year, Victoriana Nurseries sent me a parcel of veg seedlings for the garden. I've already written of the much anticipated cut-and-come again cauliflowers. I'm not entirely sure what to look out for to see signs of cauliflower heads forming but I assume that the lovely rich soil they're growing in will encourage them to carry on and do the right thing. They're looking wonderfully strong and healthy and must measure at least three feet across which seems like a very good thing to me.

Also in the parcel were Tozer brussels sprouts (and rambling strawberries but, for now, let's just talk brassicas). How exciting to grow your own christmas dinner sprouts - and purple ones at that! More by luck than judgement, they were planted into a patch of well-manured soil - which I now know is exactly the right thing for them. I wish I'd known to plant them deep (up to the first leaves for stability) but they seem to be doing okay as I staked them young. In fact, I think they're really rather beautiful.

I would have photographed the tiny sprouts forming but they're in shadow as the plants are between a raised bed and a low wall. The tops have been catching my eye for a while now - the colours are stunning as the leaves of Tozer are richly veined with bright purple. I'm not sure my pic does them justice but the shot that I missed last month was when bright orange nasturtiums had worked their way next to the plants. The orange/purple contrast was sublime but it was too dark at dusk for photography so that one has to stay in my head. The tops can apparently be cooked and eaten like cabbage - Sue at Backlane Notebook has been experimenting with cutting off the tops for eating. I'm not sure whether this will inhibit the sprouts' growth or whether this will divert energy back into the sprouts. Does anyone have any experience of this? I'd love to know as I don't want to waste the delicious tops!

Walking in a winter wonderland

2011-12-04T18:24:00.000Z

The veg patch in early December. As mentioned in yesterday's post, the slow onset of wintry weather has been kind to my veg garden (if not to me - I'm suffering with the beginnings of a winter cold today).

As seen on 2nd December - the last strawberry of the year?

Looking back to this time last year, it seems that I'd run out of things to say (!) and had suspended blogging activity. That probably means that all was quiet on the veg front and I remember that I didn't grow any veg through the winter - even my garlic and onion sets were planted out in the spring. I recall heavy snowfall over south east England making it challenging to get to a family christening in Kent in early December. I managed to drive there but was amazed at the sight of snow drifts in Central London and the Kent countryside under a blanket of thick snow! This year is different. My chilly, sunny, "winter" walk around the veg garden on Friday showed my echinacea (and primulas) flowering; if that wasn't crazy enough, I also found this just blushing strawberry (a one off feast for the slugs, I expect).

In the herb bed, fresh herbs are still available: sage, parsley, oregano, lemon thyme, fennel. Nice to be able to put off buying fresh herbs in the shops, although most home-grown herbs can be dried, or frozen in ice cubes, for use in soups and stews throughout the winter. I should really make time to do this.

Clockwise from top left: sage, fennel, rosemary, oregano with thyme at back

A few other edible treats are keeping the garden alive: chioggia beetroot, just a couple of sweetcorn cobs (yes, still!), horseradish root (really must dig all this up this year - it's a spreader and will regrow from the smallest root; I want to grow it in very large pots next year as it's a magnificent sight, very structural, but the roots can go very, very deep!) and, hopefully, a few Vivaldi and Charlotte spuds. The potatoes seem to have resprouted after I thought I'd emptied the tub in the summer. Apparently I overlooked a tuber or two. I've left them to grow because, well, you never know ... !

Clockwise from top left: sweetcorn, beetroot, potatoes, horseradish

And that's not all - this year I have my winter veg to look forward to! I'm hoping for a few Tozer (purple) brussels sprouts before christmas (they're tiny at the moment) then, providing the weather isn't too severe, I'm looking forward to cauliflowers, kale and more sprouts in the springtime. On a whim in early October, I bought some brassica seedlings then didn't have time to plant them out (this coincided with visits to my mum in hospital). Not to waste a perfectly good plant, I've popped them into raised beds that I'd previously topped up with well-rotted horse muck or compost and we'll just have to hope for the best. All being well, this will give me some spring cabbages and PSB next year - and I also have a big box of seeds to think about over the coming months. The winter doesn't seem so long when you still have veg growing!

On the First Days of December

2011-12-03T08:54:00.001Z

Just popping in to show off what my true love (my garden) sent to me ... a coneflower with open pink petals! (Tra-la-la, festive spirit in the garden and all that.)

So glad I had a finger-numbing wander round the veg patch yesterday morning. The sun was shining (but it was very cold), it was my day off and I had a couple of tubs of seaweed to drop off in the veg patch, not wanting to take them food shopping with me - and look! ...

As the Christmas rush started in the shops for a large percentage of the so-called civilised world, this little gal had been quietly unfurling her petals. Cue flutter of excitement from yours truly! Warm enough to tempt her to keep growing but too cold for this mere mortal's hands so I snapped this photo very quickly. There's quite a bit more still happening in the veg garden but, as I have to be at a workshop in an hour and I'm still in my pyjamas, the rest will have to wait until later today - if I can prise the laptop away from my teenager.

Gosh, looked out of the window at London's very leaden skies just now - quite glad I'm going to be indoors today! Hope it stays good enough to garden for everyone else,

Caro x

Too Soon to Prune ...

2011-11-25T14:05:00.001Z

I'd earmarked November as being my month for thinking about fruit. I need to move half of my 3 year old fruit trees to space them out more and I also want to order more: a couple of apple trees, a peach tree, some blueberry bushes and two sweet cherry trees. No problems there because the milder weather will make the work much easier than digging and planting in the biting cold.

I'd also thought pruning would be on the task list by now but no. The cherries are the only fruit trees that are dropping their leaves. Plums, apples and pears are still fully clothed. The raspberries that I've grown are late fruiting Autumn Bliss - they started fruiting in August and are still providing the odd handful. In any case, I've read that autumn raspberry canes should be left until 'late winter' when they can be cut to the ground. What does that mean? Does late winter mean calendar December or, more likely, when truly cold and frosty weather is upon us? Do the canes drop their leaves so that I know for sure? Help! For me, late winter is the last cold month to get through before temperatures start to rise, possibly late January/early February. Could anyone shed any light on this for me?

Pruning is a subject I knew very little about until recently. (I'm reviewing an excellent book with very good chapters on this subject, more very soon.) As luck would have it, last Sunday afternoon I was invited to join a fruit pruning workshop in a local community garden behind a block of council flats. Fruit trees planted there a couple of years back by the Carbon Army (BCTV volunteers) had never been pruned so the council had booked a mid-November tree pruning workshop for the tenants. Problem was, with weather still continuing to be mild (for this time of year), we weren't able to tackle much. The only bushes that were obviously ready were the gooseberry bushes which looked like bleached thorny twigs.

Tom shows a workshop participant how to prune gooseberries.

We wandered around looking hopefully at redcurrants, blackcurrants, peach trees and espaliered apple trees, all holding onto their autumn leaves, and were advised that it was best to put our secateurs away. Tom Moggach from City Leaf was our teacher for the workshop and, having explained about the best time to prune different fruit trees and bushes, the hows and whys of shaping an espaliered fruit tree and airborne fungal diseases, he then told us of the 3 D's of pruning (dead, dying, diseased, all should be pruned out) and demonstrated how to shape. We were let loose on the gooseberry bushes, pruning out any of the 3 D's and crossing stems, cutting back the strong leader stems by one-third (to an outward facing bud) and then trimming back any other stems to two buds (again, looking for a bud that would enhance the open basket shape of the bush). Tenants said that these gooseberry bushes had fruited well in the summer and were loathe to chop them back too much but Tom explained that this would promote healthy growth for next season, allowing air to circulate through the centre of the bush and so reducing the risk of any problems from pest or fungal infection. It was really satisfying to get hands on with the job and I think it all looked much tidier when we'd finished!

It was a very informative couple of hours but I'd really gone along to have a look at the gardening space (and available light) as one of the tenants has asked for a bit of help with growing vegetables next year. I have to say, I think she's doing a pretty good job by herself (wonderful nasturtiums, made into pesto for the winter picnic) but the trade-off was being able to see pruning in action. I'm much better off actually seeing something being done (and being able to ask questions, if needed, to confirm that I've got the idea). I've come away feeling that my book learning has been reinforced and, yes, have the confidence to know what I'm doing with my trees (once the leaves fall off!).

Carrot characters

2011-11-18T15:20:00.000Z

I may have spoken a bit too soon about the gloominess of the weather as we've had some lovely autumnal days over the past week. Fresh, breezy and crisply cold once you step away from the sunny spots. I'm always spurred into action by a bit of brightness in the day and last Sunday I found a few sunny spots in the veg patch that needed a tidy up so indulged in some warm lingering seed saving. Part of the tidy up involved removing some nasturtiums that were past their best; they were self-seeded from last year and had grown to cover the area previously occupied by onions and carrots. Once the nasturtiums (and baby snails and slugs) were removed, I found a good kilo of carrots still waiting to be harvested, although some presented a challenge to peel for the pot:

The good news is that none of them had any damage, whether from carrot fly or other beasties. As they were grown in a raised bed, I'm uncertain whether this success (for the second year running) is due to the height of the beds or to companion planting them among onions. Interestingly, I've also read that sage and rosemary make good companions for carrots. Worth a try for next year as both are very pretty herbs.

The main mistake was that I sort of forgot that the soil underneath the raised beds is not that great: quite heavy and given to clumping, if not obviously solid clay in parts. These carrots are Amsterdam, a quick growing carrot that isn't supposed to get this big (but doesn't seem to suffer taste-wise for being allowed to grow on). They've obviously encountered a few obstacles which have led to some very amusing results:

The self-plaiting carrot

The little walrus carrot

And my favourite:

Colin Carrott (by small child, aged 4)

Alas, they are no more. They made a very delicious addition to a chicken and leek pie and a Root Veg Chilli.

Saturday Snap: Mushroom magic

2011-11-12T22:30:00.000Z

So here we are, getting on for mid-November: recent days have been damper and darker, with indoor lights needed by half four in the afternoon. Never mind, it's less than 6 weeks until the winter solstice when it all starts going in reverse and the days gradually lengthen. Looking at things that way, it doesn't seem too bad to my mind. Time to close the curtains and settle down with a good book and mug of tea.

At the moment, I'm reading a recent cookbook purchase of Veg Every Day, the latest from River Cottage. I've cooked up some wonderful meals from it, last night enjoying Mushroom Risoniotto, (riso being a tiny rice shaped pasta) a pasta affair with mushroom, fresh herbs and creme fraiche which was utterly delicious. Of course, I had to buy the mushroom ingredients but I did wonder, fleetingly, if I could have eaten any of these beauties found in the Veg Patch gardens - prompted by Hugh F-W recommending the use of "dark and flavoursome mushrooms ... include a few wild mushrooms if you have some to hand". (Nooo, I didn't; even I wouldn't be that silly! I haven't got a clue about mushrooms, unless they're store bought.)

Obviously the warm, damp weather conditions are just right for fungal growth in the grass. Apparently the presence of mushrooms means the grass is healthy; the fungi thrive by feeding off old plant debris under the surface and leave the soil in a better condition. I was amazed at finding six different mushrooms in one patch of grass less than half the size of a cricket pitch. Anyone know what these are?

There's something so magical about mushrooms (leaving aside references to Timothy Leary, any psychotropic happenings of the 60's and purported peddlings in good ol' Camden Market). For me, mushrooms springing up overnight will always remind me of misty dawn childhood expeditions with my siblings and my Dad, hunting for mushrooms on the airfields of Culdrose in Cornwall. The thrill of finding field mushrooms to take home for breakfast!

And, seriously, if anyone can shed any light as to what sort of mushrooms these are, please let me know!

Remembrance

2011-11-11T11:00:00.012Z

On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month:

We will remember them.

(The British Legion is committed to teaching young people the importance of Remembrance, conflict and peace. Go here to find out more.)

From has-beans to stored beans

2011-11-07T13:20:00.001Z

Looking out of the window yesterday morning at drab skies, I was happy to spend some time in the kitchen de-podding a stack of beans. Having recently spent less time in the garden than I'd like, the last of my Cosse Violette beans were left to grow big and warty on the vine and, in truth, I'd had enough of eating beans, beans, beans. The York Rise children grew beans up wigwams on their balconies and bags of beans were taken to elderly neighbours but, even so, I had plenty. I've frozen a few but, having only the bottom half of my fridge/freezer for storage, there wasn't much space left after leaving a respectful amount of room for ice-cream (made in the New Forest, ultra-yummy, very essential). Last year the elderly pods were chucked out with the vines when the beds were cleared; this year, I'm thinking that there's food still there for the taking, a handful of beans will bulk up a soup or stew nicely. And, anyway, I haven't done this before so... why not?

So, before clearing away the vines and wigwams, I asked UK Veg Gardeners for advice and Elaine (truly a Woman of the Soil if ever there was) recommended cutting off the plant at ground level and, preferably, hanging the whole plant upside down in a garage until dry. As this method was impractical for me (small flat, no garage, dampish shed), I left the plants and pods in-situ which seemed to work quite well. (Probably due to mild weather.) As the vines died back, the pods turned yellow and dry-ish which is what's needed. I picked them before the drizzling weather started a few days ago and have had them finishing off indoors in my nice warm kitchen, laid out flat across those wire trays usually used for cooling cakes.

When the pods become dry and crispy, that's the time to shell the beans. They reminded me of something mummified, perhaps to be found in the Ancient Egyptian section of the British Museum!

But I digress. A twist of the pod will snap it open and inside the almost dry beans are waiting to be pushed out with a finger or thumb.

(I think perhaps mine wouldn't have had that orange "belly button" if they'd been dried more swiftly indoors.)

The outer pods can be chucked onto the compost and the beautiful beans must be spread out on trays to further dry for a few days. A warm airing cupboard is ideal but anywhere indoors will do. Once that's done, and you're sure the beans are thoroughly dry, put them in an airtight container and store in a cool dry place until needed. The beans will need soaking overnight before using, then drained, rinsed, topped up again with water and boiled vigorously for 10 minutes before simmering until tender - or keep a few back to sow back into the veg patch or garden next year. (If this whole thing doesn't work, the beans can be strung onto a long string and used as decoration; it might look rather jolly strung around a christmas tree instead of loathsome plastic tinsel. Apologies to anyone who likes tinsel. )

Hmm, just like pebbles on a beach...

As I'm new to this drying lark, I turned to Piers Warren's 'How to Store Your Garden Produce' for clarification and followed his advice. His article lists varieties of beans that are recommended for drying which could be useful next year; these are: Marie Louise (pink/purple two toned beans), Czar (large butter beans), Pea Bean (the one that looks like tiny killer whales), Borlotto (we all know this one with its lovely red speckled pods) and Cannellini beans (good for making your own baked beans). I also like the sound of Canadian Wonder, a dwarf French bean whose young pods can be eaten whole or can be left to mature for red kidney beans. I do love a nice chilli!

Saturday Snap: Calendula Officinalis

2011-11-05T23:04:00.003Z

All summer long I've been bowled over by the wonderful bright orange blooms of the calendula (aka Pot Marigold) in the veg patch. The seeds were sown in late May and took a while to get going but have really been making up for it over the past three months and the plants are still flowering abundantly in early November!

The colour is such an intense orange that, despite taking numerous photos over the summer, I've never felt that they've done the flowers justice. This afternoon, just as the light was fading around 3.30 and rain threatened, I quickly tried once more and, this time, I'm quite pleased with the result. You can just see the start of the raindrops on the petals!

Mine were grown to bring in the hoverflies and bees and did an excellent job but they also, apparently, reduce soil eelworm. They're a beautiful flower to look at, growing to about 18 inches high, but calendula is a herb and I really should have used it in cooking. (There's still time.)

Fresh calendula petals can be sprinkled over salads and boiling the petals produces an edible yellow dye that will colour rice, hence the nickname "poor man's saffron". Dried petals can also be used to season and flavour soups and cakes. The petals should be picked early in the morning (preferably on a bright, sunny day but I think I may be a tad late for that) and dried quickly in the shade. As a bonus, the flowers are high in vitamins A and C which I didn't know before and is useful information to have at the onset of winter. Similarly, tea made from the petals will aid circulation (useful) or can be used as a hair rinse to add golden tones to auburn hair. (Not so useful, and unlikely to have me reaching for the secateurs.) Something worth noting for next year is that calendula is a good companion plant for tomatoes. Wow, I love the idea of all those reds and oranges growing together!

Year on year I get a bit more organised around planning in the veg patch so it's worth knowing that calendula seeds, like sweet peas and broad beans, can be sown in the autumn to give them a head start for the following year. If they're happy where they are, they're highly likely to self-seed and I did have one or two from last year so, together with self-seeding sunflowers, nasturtiums, orache and cerinthe, it looks like the veg patch might slowly be turning into the flower garden!

Small but perfectly formed

2011-11-02T18:58:00.001Z

According to the BBC weather last night, there's a bank of mild but wet weather heading across the country so today's sunshine made it a day to be treasured. Like many people, I'm slightly thrown when the clocks are altered, both Spring and Autumn. I don't mind the darker evenings so much when we have days like today: bright, breezy, dry and mild. Perfect for a walk on the heath, perfect for watching the leaves fluttering down to the pathway (must take a large sack with me next time I go), perfect for getting the laundry done. And, for the time being, the lighter mornings are very motivational which makes them perfect for a wander round the veg patch before work.

This morning, I was up at 6.30 (still light enough to make me jump out of bed with a determination to get on with the day), had two loads of washing flapping on the lines by 8 a.m, back upstairs for a spot of brekkie whilst making lunches and then down to the veg patch for a wander in the warm sunshine.

This mild autumn weather we're having may have got the plants confused but it's given my sweetcorn cobs the final shove they needed to ripen. Frankly, after the disastrous start to growing them back in May, and having to start again in June, then a failed 'Three Sisters' experiment leading to replanting in July, I'd abandoned any thoughts of enjoying freshly picked cobs this year. The plants were left where they were because I like the look of them in the veg patch! This morning, though, I found that every plant has at least one plump-ish cob, the silks having turned brown and, peeling back the outer layers, golden kernels are to be found within. Yum.

This looks impressive but I have very small hands!

At this rate, I may even risk sowing a row or two of spinach ... !

The Jewel in Mum's Garden

2011-11-01T18:43:00.000Z

I just want to say thank you to everyone who wished my mum well after her recent accident. Having spent three weeks in hospital (she suffered quite a blow to the head when she fell), she's now home and slowly making her way back to normal life, albeit finding that the spirit is willing whilst the flesh is still weak, to paraphrase. My dad is with her and they're muddling along nicely together which is what they like. Next year will mark 60 years since they met! (And, very sweetly, they still hold hands as they sit next to each other.)

During recent visits to the parental domicile, one of my favourite things was to look out into the garden throughout the day and see this beautiful cloud of pink cosmos. My sister Julia grows lots of flowers every year for Mum and, while she swears she's not a gardener, I'd beg to differ as I've never had any luck with cosmos and these are truly uplifting.

They're planted against an east facing wall so get morning sunlight and warmth for several hours of the day. The soil is very dry but, even so, the plants are still budding and flowering even at this very late stage.

I've just finished reading Monty Don's account of The Jewel Garden where he talks of his chocolate cosmos still presenting a striking display in October; is this usual, I wonder? If so, cosmos is definitely one for my garden next year.

Well, colour me happy!

2011-10-16T12:15:00.001+01:00

Excuse the gi-normous photo, but I couldn't resist! Everyone is relishing this lovely warm spell of weather and these are a few of the plants still brightening up the veg patch. They're also causing me to carefully rethink my winter planting as I need the space but don't want to rip out plants (such as the nasturtiums) that are still flourishing! I've been told to be more ruthless but just can't. I'm happy to let nature take its course.

Another day of bright and breezy sunshine means my washing is flapping itself gently dry on the lines outside and I can hoof it down to the veg garden to sit on a warm wall and seed save over a coffee. Next up will be tidying and, perhaps, I might risk sowing a few spinach seeds, maybe some peas, pak choi and hardy carrots. I'm in an optimistic mood and looking forward to spending time in the garden. I won't post now until later next weekend; I'm away next week to look after my lovely dad while my beloved mum is in hospital. She's been very ill after a nasty fall which caused a bash to the head and she needs to be in hospital for a while; I hope this lovely weather is putting a sparkle into her day as well and encouraging her to get better.

Happy gardening everyone, let's make the most of this warm autumn!
Caro x

Edited to add: Ooops, I spoke too soon - it's just clouded over here! (Still looking forward to gardening though!)

Saturday Snap! Chilli re-growth

2011-10-15T17:16:00.000+01:00

Here in London, we're experiencing what I can only describe as a glorious summer's day. Although there was a distinct snap in the air at the beginning of the day, there's real warmth in the sunshine. All this lovely warmth and mild weather is completely confusing my plants. There's me trying to make ready for the winter (which I'm sure is due fairly soon!) and the plants are seemingly putting in one last effort before this year's growing season ends. Look what I found this morning on my chilli plant:

:: October Chilli plant, regrowing nicely ::

There's actually half a dozen pods like this on this plant (better than it did in the summer!) This is a plant which is not protected in any way but just sits on my balcony where it gets a few hours of sunshine, when available, and is buffeted by wind! These new pods are a couple of inches long already and I suspect would pack quite a punch when cooked! The pods should mature to about 3 inches long, changing through a banana yellow colour to deep red. I wonder how far they'll get before the weather changes?

There's also a fair amount of colour lingering in the veg patch and it was interesting to watch Monty D on Gardeners World last night talking about how much colour there is in his garden at Long Meadow. I'm intrigued that his sweet peas are still flowering energetically - obviously, next year, I should be picking mine more often. And, although I've already ordered my sweet peas for next year, I really liked the one named after Monty, a glorious deep red. Yumm! (I suspect I could squeeze a few in!)

The Constant Cauliflower

2011-10-13T14:41:00.001+01:00

How long before the pigeons spot this beauty, I wonder?

I've taken my time in writing about the wondrous cauliflowers that I'm growing as I wanted them to get really established first. Earlier in the year, Stephen Shirley, who I met through UK Veg Gardeners, offered me a selection of veg from his family's business, Victoriana Nurseries in Kent. The Victoriana website has an extensive range of tempting fruit and veggies and, as a result, choosing - always difficult for me - took some time; I wanted to grow veg that would capture the imaginations of the children here. Eventually I ordered Tozer brussels sprouts (a beautiful red variety, hopefully gracing this years christmas dinner), Strawberry Popcorn, Rambling Cascade strawberries and Cut and Come Again Cauliflowers. My order went in very late in the season so we all wondered if the plants would perform well, especially in the case of the Strawberry Popcorn, and Stephen's wife Serena kindly threw in some green brussels sprouts for good measure.

I'm pleased to say that nearly 3 months on, by following the planting instructions and preparing the soil well, the caulis and brussels are doing really well. The strawberries are also looking good, with recent warm weather they'll have developed really strong root systems ready for next summer and then we'll see them really flourish! The sweetcorn didn't survive but it's a plant that I'll go back to next summer, if only for the novelty - who doesn't love freshly made popcorn?

But it's the caulis that are going to be the magical, mystery plant of the veg garden - even I hadn't appreciated the full uniqueness of this plant. In late summer, I was invited to a little evening celebration at the home of Mark "Vertical Veg" Ridsdill-Smith who had discovered he lived around the corner from me. He was celebrating a good year for his business including featuring in Alex Mitchell's recently published book The Edible Balcony. Standing in the kitchen, eating some delicious home-made focaccia, I uttered the phrase "perennial cauliflower" and the room of foodies and gardeners fell into an awed silence. "Perennial Cauliflower? What? Is it true? Does it work? Why have I never heard of this before?" Ooh, I created quite a stir, I can tell you! You'd think I'd revealed how to spin straw into gold.

So, for those who missed the ensuing conversation, this is what I'm told will happen: Each plant will produce up to 10 mini cauliflower heads on a branching system not dissimilar to broccoli. At the end of the season, where other caulis would be cleared from the garden, perennial cauliflowers are just tidied up and left. Not even cut down to resprout; no, no - just left. Come next winter, off they go again producing another crop of mini cauliflowers and so on, and so on, for up to another 5 years. I'm a little bit excited by this plant, I can tell you, and looking forward to seeing the first round of produce.

I've planted mine inbetween the fruit trees in the walled border where the strawberries will ramble between them in the summer. They won't be in the way there because that's the border that I have to, rather inconveniently, climb into when there's work to be done so it makes the perfect spot for plants that can fend (for the most part) for themselves.

Edited to add: I'll be adding more photos of the caulis as the heads develop over the winter season. I'm told that the plants produce mini-heads of cauliflower; I assume this will be a bit like the baby veg found in the supermarket. Sounds perfect to me, a plant that gives cauliflower in one portion sizes!

Saturday Snap: Summer swan song

2011-10-02T16:44:00.002+01:00

Of all the flowers in the garden, the sunflower is surely the one most readily associated with the long, leisurely, picnic-filled days of summertime. Most of my sunflowers have either faded and drooped their lovely faces towards the soil or have been cleared away during the last week due to their extremely brown and crispy appearance. As this gloriously welcome hot weekend dawned over the veg patch on Saturday morning, there are two sunflower plants still putting on a show. By standing on a wall, I could just about photograph this one; with the sun shining through the petals, I was struck by how beautiful the back of the flower is. It seemed an appropriate view to symbolise the last of the summer.

This unseasonal heatwave is forecast to start fading soon, with it lingering the longest in the South East of England, and then we'll be forced to face the reality of October as it should be. I noticed a heavy beading of dew on the cauliflowers so the night temperatures are low; not too long before we all have to think about night frosts and cloches, I think.

As luck would have it ...

2011-09-29T17:01:00.000+01:00

I just wanted to say a big Thank you! to Tracey at igrowveg.com. She recently ran a comments competition on her excellent website, asking which winter veg we were growing in our respective plots or gardens and I won one of her prizes. How thrilling! It was my comment about the cut and come again cauliflowers flourishing in my veg patch that caught her attention; this is a vegetable that I'll be writing about in my next post.

So, I now have no more excuses for being tardy with my veg patch next year because I've been sent a Veg Patch Planner, beautifully illustrated by Siobhan McCrudden of EarthedUp.

I especially like the January illustration, seen above, as this suggests that I should be feet up, in a large comfy armchair, snoozing under my seed catalogues with a large mug of hot tea nearby. Ooh, I can only hope!

I was unaware of this shop site before and I know nothing about it except that there are some nice hand-illustrated garden themed cards and posters available and I'm always happy to support the work of a fellow illustrator.

Stringing out your onions

2011-09-26T13:26:00.000+01:00

Ah, the synchronicity of blogging! Several of my favourite bloggers are writing about the storage of their onion harvests and, at the risk of driving people away through subject repetition, I need to do the same. A quick look back at last year's post on this subject highlights how I've done things differently this year.

Last year the onions were lifted earlier and left to dry in a wire basket in Leigh's greenhouse. I've since read that hot weather can start to 'cook' or soften the onions on the inner layers whilst crisping up the outside. Certainly, many of my red onions needed to be used quickly last year and didn't store well, although the same method seemed to work well for garlic as I'm still using those stored bulbs. (And let's not talk about this year's garlic.)

This year I lifted the reds at the beginning of August (quite late) and the whites soon after, although I'd been pulling them both as needed for the kitchen since late June.

Last onions drying on upturned basket

I constructed a small drying igloo out of reclaimed plastic piping, some chicken wire and a roll of plastic sheeting. (I was lucky to find the pipes; they were clean offcuts from a local redevelopment project.) The onions were laid out in a single layer on top of upturned wire baskets (salvaged from an abandoned Ikea wardrobe) - this keeps them above the soil so that air can circulate all around. The pipes were bent across the bed and pushed into the soil at the corners, chicken wire was wrapped round the pipes and held up the plastic cover, the cover was then tied firmly to the piping struts at the sides and the ends gathered and tied to form a nice airy tunnel. Ventilation and a moisture free environment is key for proper drying.

Certainly not a thing of beauty, the igloo was very effective and it held together (just) even in the strong winds we've suffered. The onions had air circulating all around them but stayed dry and there they stayed for a few weeks until the bulb skins were papery but the leaves still had some flexibility. In hindsight, the whites should have been lifted earlier as they suffered in the heavy rain we had end of July; I thought they would be okay if left in the ground, I was wrong. In my defense, the leaves had only just started to yellow but the bulbs were beginning to rot as I lifted them. (The good bits were swiftly chopped, blanched and frozen for future stews and soups, making sure any soft layers were cut out.)

Initially I brought them home in a big old rice sack but I needed to get them out of the way (my flat's not big) so I've strung them up using a combination of Matron's method (link below) and finishing off with a nice plait. I prefer to tie a double length of string to one of the first onions and then weave that in as I go, I think it gives the string greater strength. Matron's method is to take the stem of the second onion round the back of the first stem, then over and round it's own stem. Here's an illustration but check out Matron's wonderfully clear instructions:

Start with 3 onions, string tied round one.

Loop stem and string of onion 2 under the back of stem of onion , coming round above stem of onion 2. Then take it over and round the stem of onion 2.

Add in a 3rd onion and repeat: over and round back of 1st two stems ...

... then over and round itself.

Keep repeating with added onions.

As the string of onions starts to get heavy, split the stems into three and start to plait. (Bring outside stem into middle of other two and so on.)

Split double lengths of string and wrap - going in opposite directions - around plait to secure. Tie off and join string lengths at the top for hanging up.

Ta dah!

However tempting and visually pleasing, it's not a good idea to store onions in your kitchen as this room can get steamy and hot and your onions won't store well! As I don't have a garage, and my shed is a step too far when cooking, I've hung mine high up in the hallway where it's cool and airy - as in top pic.

Seed saving

2011-09-25T17:55:00.000+01:00

As well as noticing more bugs and slugs in the veg garden as the season revolves round into autumn, I'm also watching out for seeds. Some will be saved for sowing next year, others have food uses.

Cerinthe, orache, sunflower and nasturtium plants are the ones in my garden to look out for as they are all prolific self seeders. If the seeds are not collected, they'll scatter into the soil and pop up goodness knows where. (As I found with my nasturtiums and sunflowers this year.) Earlier this year I had to relocate dozens of tiny red orache plants that had self-sown from one underdeveloped plant plonked into the soil last summer. I also bought one cerinthe seedling from Perch Hill Farm in Easter 2010 and collected the seed at the end of the summer; this provided enough seed for another 2 dozen plants this year.

Cerinthe seeds are very easy to collect as they're so obvious. Two large black seeds sit in the leaf bracts where the flowers were. Here's the flower:

and here's the seeds:

When they're ready, you can just pick them off. That will be a job for this week. I won't be able to collect them all, scars in some of the bracts show that a few have already been shaken off by recent windy weather!

I've also grown fennel in my herb bed for the last two years - the leaves are lovely in salads and sauces if you like the taste of aniseed but are best cut before the plant flowers. A couple of weeks ago, I needed fennel seeds for a sauce and there they were, practically on my doorstep. They worked perfectly so I'm now going to cut the rest of the seeds for use in the kitchen; the main plant can be propagated from side roots separated from the main tap root. The way to collect fennel seed is to cut the whole head then suspend it upside down in a paper bag although if the seeds are already fairly dry, make a paper funnel and brush them into this.

I've read that fennel can be quite invasive - a bit like bamboo - but apparently makes a poor companion plant for other herbs so perhaps I've been spared the invasion by growing it in the middle of my herb bed! It's also worth knowing that whilst aphids find fennel thoroughly unpleasant, ladybirds, hoverflies and other beneficial bugs love it.

The other seed that I'll be saving, although not for myself, is the sunflower seed. Last year I left the heads for the birds but as that encouraged a bit of random propagation, I'm cutting the smaller flowers when they've gone brown and removing the heads for seed and drying the stems because I'm hoping these will make good pea sticks next year. The bigger heads will be cut and suspended as a sunflower perch, as illustrated in Dave Hamilton's book 'Grow your food for free (well, almost)'.

Other seeds I may be able to collect are nigella (love in a mist), calendula (marigold), poppy, hollyhock, wallflowers and nicotiana. I've passed a magnificent nicotiana plant on my walk over to the heath, I may have to find the courage to ask the owners for seedhead in due course!

I wonder what seeds other people are saving?

Saturday Snap: Just a Perfect Day

2011-09-24T09:33:00.001+01:00

Actually, yesterday was the perfect day especially since it was also my day off! I was at liberty to go and drift through the veg patch making lists of what needed to be done. I'd walked past earlier on my way to the recycling corner and been completely bowled over by how beautiful the garden looked in the morning sunshine. So pencil, notepad and camera in hand I strolled, paused, sat, pondered, touched, ate, plucked (the odd weed) and planned. Being Friday, with all the kids at school, it was so quiet in the garden that as I approached the Cerinthe planted next to the purple beans, I could clearly hear several bees busy collecting nectar. The usual determination to gather every last drop of nectar was evident as they buzzed between the flowers. And there I sat, on the ground, crouching low, camera in hand in the warm sunshine. I have no idea how long I sat there because it was just ... perfect.

And this is what I came home with:

Finally! A clear and detailed photo of a bee in action!(Click on the photo and you'll be taken through to Flickr where you can see the photo in BIG full screen size.) Can't begin to tell you how pleased I am with this photo but it was a hard choice as I also snapped a ladybird dozing on a drying sunflower head, which is sort of cute and summed up the moment nicely.

Hope the weather stays good for us all, happy weekend everyone! (Our street party takes place today so I'm hoping to fit that in as well as gardening.)

Know thine Enemy ...

2011-09-22T19:46:00.000+01:00

Rootling around among the nasturtiums yesterday evening, lifting the last of the gar-leeks, look what I found:

Eeeeuwwww! (But not so much that I didn't stop to photograph it.)

I have a horrible fascination for these creatures of the damp. Beyond ugly and a right royal pest in the garden, they make a tasty snack for hedgehogs and frogs. That doesn't make them welcome in my veg garden so I have relocated this guy to the railway hedgerow and hope that he doesn't slither back.

I'm also finding quite a few tiny black slugs lurking in the veg, I think these are Keel Slugs that mostly live underground and can do a fair amount of damage to roots and tubers. Best get those carrots out and stored. I pulled up a carrot a couple of nights ago with one clinging on to it - such information is best left unsaid, especially about the dinner table.

I'm a firm believer in organic gardening and you won't find anything stronger than tomato fertiliser in my veg patch so it has to be natural deterrents to save my winter veg. I've heard of using coffee grounds and egg-shells as a mulch around the plants (a bit scratchy for a midnight slither) and beer traps to drown them - an option I can't personally use as I wouldn't know what to do with the inebriated slugs in the morning. Recently, though, I came across PKS copper tools. When using these to dig the soil, they allegedly disturb the "ley lines" that slugs follow and throw them off the scent into a different direction, thus avoiding yer prize caulis. They're pricey but apparently work. I'm about to order one (for they are indeed a beautiful thing to behold) and I'll have to report back on their efficiency.

The Gar-Leek question

2011-09-21T23:55:00.000+01:00

:: Gar-leeks unearthed ::

First things first, thank you to everyone who commented on my gar-leek conundrum. I've since pulled up a few more - they are, as you can see, quite definitely leeks (which is handy as I didn't get round to sowing any earlier this year) - and, despite my questionable sanity, I quite definitely planted garlic cloves. Trust me, if I'd sown leeks they wouldn't have been nearly so neatly spaced. When planting garlic cloves, I get my dibber out (aka wooden spoon handle); my seeds, however, are sprinkled enthusiastically and rarely (if ever) transplanted neatly. Ah well. They're going to be cooked as leeks, although I'm slightly miffed at having to actually buy garlic in the forthcoming months as I've almost finished my store of last year's crop.

One very plausible suggestion, provided by Alex, has struck a chord: "are they elephant garlic?". Considering that elephant garlic is not true garlic but, in fact, a relative of the leek family, it seems that my garlic reverted to its genetic roots.

Reading up on the subject (as always - isn't the internet wonderful?), I've learnt that garlic sets need very specific TLC to thrive. And there's me thinking you just bung them in the ground and wait. Suitability for the growing location and climate is a good start, as is planting in late autumn (early October-ish) so that the roots establish well before soggy soil and frost become the norm. (I've always gone for spring planting which, although possible, should be my second and last-chance choice.) Plant in free-draining soil (to prevent bulb rot) and, if possible, prepare the soil with a good layer of well-rotted compost to really get them off to a flying start. Mulch if the winter is severe and then clear the mulch off when temperatures rise and days lengthen. Often the bulbs are triggered to set cloves by the lengthening daylight.

So, where did it all go horribly wrong for me this year? Well, for starters, I planted my sets in spring and then the weather was unseasonably hot. I've now read that some varieties just will not grow in hot areas or will only set one clove or no bulb at all. The other (big) mistake I made was to make the cardinal error of growing my garlic in the same bed as the year before - although I improved the soil with a top dressing of compost, the sets were still at the mercy of any diseases left in the soil from the previous year; this, apparently, can be another cause for no bulb. None of this, though, explains how the leaves grew looking like leek leaves - although the bulb also looks like a giant spring onion or green garlic. Hmmm, it will have to remain as one of nature's mysteries.

Am I downhearted by all this? Not At All. On the contrary, it's amazing the knowledge that a year's hands-on experience will give you. And expect my sister's Leek and Potato Pie on the menu sometime soon.

This evening I've just been out to lift all the gar-leeks; I noticed that a few of the withering leaves seemed to have a light sprinkling of rust. Again with the research, and I discovered that this is an airborne fungus which lurks in the soil, only affecting onions and leeks. Triggered by certain levels of wetness and heat, it's advisable to lift the affected plants and destroy the leaves. Absolutely do not add these to your compost. The bit of the leek that you'd normally eat is still edible. I think this is nature reminding me to read the rules!

It's not exactly garlic ...

2011-09-12T15:52:00.000+01:00

I've got so much catching up to do, I hardly know where to begin. I want to write about my successful plan to dry onions outdoors (no space inside), my beautiful cerinthe flowers still pulling in the bees, my bountiful harvests, my Tornado tomatoes that are not quite what I was expecting, winter planting, onion storing, a great tomato sauce with fennel seeds, my Fat Baby Exploding Cucumbers (can't wait!) and so on. For now, though, I have limited access to my laptop due to my son's A levels so I'm lagging behind and will (hopefully) catch up during the week.

So, this is less of a post and more of a conundrum that has me flummoxed:

To the normal eye, I expect this looks like a pot of tomatoes and two leeks. Yes? Err, no. Well, it may be. At least the tomatoes are a certainty but the leeks are a real puzzle because they're meant to be garlic. I've waited and waited for the leaves to turn yellow but, as the onions are all out and bad weather has been forecast, I thought I'd get on with lifting my garlic yesterday and starting to dry it ... and this is what I dug up. Lovely leeks. I swear I planted garlic cloves; I know they're all vaguely related, but this is a stumper - and it's wrecked my experiment.

I had resolved this year to try a garlic test: One bulb of Scottish porcelain garlic from the supermarket, 7 chunky cloves from garlic grown by me last year and 14 Sicilian Red cloves from T&M all went into one raised bed in neat rows. I wanted to test various theories about growing supermarket cloves versus grower supplied and also to see how my home-grown would adapt (they're supposed to improve year on year as each successive plant adapts).

And the results of my very non-scientific experiment: T & M cloves - none at all grew (could be the weather), my home-grown garlic clove became the smaller spring onion sized leek and the Porcelain Garlic turned into the big leek. I haven't dug the rest up yet because, frankly, I don't need leeks today.

I would absolutely love to know what everyone else thinks about this! There was a small disturbance in that raised bed about a month after planting (at the time, attributed to a fox/pigeon punch up) but that only accounts for the T&M sicilian garlic going awol - unless we have some very clever gardening wildlife who know how to plant in very orderly rows ... (I'm discounting the gnomes and fairies.)

P.S. The forecast hurricane is not quite happening in North London - yet. It is a very blustery, but dry, day here though!

I love Wight

2011-09-04T18:25:00.001+01:00

I've been away again, saying goodbye to the end of the summer by way of a quick trip over the water to the Isle of Wight. I planned it back in the winter months when I longed for blue skies with fresh salt sea air and, although it felt a bit rushed getting away, it was well worth it.

I've been many times before so I was well into my comfort zone: roads, shops, cafés and campsite were all familiar. I usually camp but, this time, I hired a small caravan in my favourite site - a place that's been planted with many apple trees and been the worthy recipient of a conservation award several years running.

The caravan made a great base camp and had a gas fire for chilly evenings - bliss! We ate out, bought picnics, and started each day with a swim in the campsite (indoor) pool before heading out over the island in warm breezes and sunshine.

Sunny day at Freshwater Bay

Four days with minimum domestic chores was the best decision I could have made, I came back feeling totally refreshed - only to pick up a particularly virulent cold that's stopped me in my tracks over the last three days. C'est la vie - but very annoying given the amount of work to do in the garden.

The timing of my island jaunt was planned to coincide with an annual vintage fair that I discovered, quite by accident, several years ago. At that time, I had a car full of camping gear, not a square inch to spare, and, frustratingly, came across vintage suitcases and wonderful old gardening tools, all reasonably priced. I had my fingers crossed that the fair would still be happening this year and so we ventured down to Old Winkle Street (a suitably named venue, if ever there was) in Calbourne on the Bank Holiday Monday. Hooray! the fair was there; sadly, it had become a glorified car boot sale. Undeterred, I whizzed round while my son waited in the car - with his ipod, naturally.

This year the gardening tools were there, over- oiled and overpriced: old fork, £30! It makes you think, doesn't it? Not what I had in mind at all and, although they had some lovely old wooden dibbers, I came away without tools.

Vintage gardening tools

It seemed that the fair's reputation had spread over the years and, accordingly, was priced for the tourists not the locals. It was less about vintage and more like a charity shop. Gone were the Victorian lace making cushions, vintage buttons and old postcards, replaced with masses of decluttered ceramic and glass ornaments - objects I found very easy to resist. Thankfully, my visit was saved by a wonderfully retro stall with 1950s linen, painted wicker furniture and other ephemera and, yes, I did succumb to a vintage linen tablecloth which reminded me of the one my grandmother had on her kitchen table - seen below with some of the kilo of Cosse Violette beans which needed picking on my return. (The plants had produced one or two flowers before I left; I suspected I might come back to an avalanche of beans and I was right!)

Midday Fox

2011-08-22T13:09:00.000+01:00

:: The enemy sleeps ::

This cheeky chap was seen around mid-day in the car parking area next to my block of flats and adjacent to the railway line. I just hope that he's not in need of a siesta after a large lunchtime snack of onions. (I pulled mine up yesterday and left them drying on racks in the garden.) Although he's probably been chasing pigeons or rabbits. Best check, anyway.

Saturday Snap: Tangled Web Woven

2011-08-20T19:35:00.000+01:00

Arachnophobia? Luckily, not something that affects me - and you have my heartfelt sympathies at this time of year if you really don't like spiders. This past week, the weather has felt more than a little autumnal and the effects of this on the arachnid population have been seen both indoors and out in my home: I've been releasing spiders back into the wild (aka my balcony) and spotting delicate webs appearing overnight. Spiders are seen most often in September or October in Europe; this little lady (the females are bigger than the males) had spun a large beautiful web on my balcony herbs one morning, so perhaps she could feel the summer's end already. (Although, please, let's be wrong about that!)

It was quite hard to see the fine, sticky threads of the web but I wanted to clearly show the spider and her web to a fascinated but very young visitor - without small pointing fingers wreaking havoc. Here's how I did it: I fetched my tea-strainer and a tiny spoonful of flour, then gently sprinkled a dust cloud of flour over the web. This won't harm the spider - in fact, she didn't even move - but the web and its tiny insect-catching threads can then be clearly seen. (If you have a fine spray bottle, a light misting of water would also work.)

This spider, I think, is an Orb-Weaver and very common in the UK garden. The web is spun in the morning; any insects caught in it are either eaten straightaway or devoured when the web is eaten at suppertime. The next day the process starts again - sort of Groundhog Day, spider style.

There and Back Again

2011-08-20T10:18:00.001+01:00

~ Chamomile growing in clumps on the pebbly beach ~

Well that's this year's holiday jaunt over (and the reason it's been oddly silent here). I've been to the seaside for a lovely peaceful week which was a world away from the riots both in nearby Camden and Croydon, the route I unwittingly chose on my way there. It's a week I look forward to as 4 generations of my family gather together without putting undue strain on any one household but, as I invest more of my time in the veg garden, I can't pretend that it's not a wrench to leave the garden behind, even for a short time.

As I see it, there are two main issues in a summertime community garden: ensuring the veg get the right amount of water and to hope that veg and flowers are harvested as appropriate - which, actually, is what we all worry about, isn't it? I asked neighbours to help themselves to courgettes, carrots, beetroot, onions and please keep picking the sweet peas; the beans had not yet flowered and the tomatoes were still green so those would wait for my return. It's best to designate one person to oversee watering so that the plants aren't deluged morning and night - or forgotten entirely - but, apparently, it rained almost every day while I was away so that task was taken care of by kindly Mother Nature. (The copious plants on my Edible Balcony were taken care of by a trusty friend.)

The picking of produce was another matter entirely. It seems that my time in the garden has earmarked the space as being my own and (most) people are loathe to help themselves for fear of being seen to overstep the mark. (On reflection, this is probably good.) Despite cutting several courgettes before I left, and telling folks to help themselves, most were still there when I returned, as were a few handfuls of raspberries still hanging on the canes and other veg untouched.

After a (blustery but dry) week away, my first thoughts after unpacking were to pop down to the garden where I found plenty of weeds, beans covered in purple flowers (hurrah!), radishes ready to eat (3 weeks after sowing), beetroot needing lifting (some about to bolt which I'll leave for seed), recently sown peas clambering half way up the netting - and a 20 inch courgette which made a nice 'baked and stuffed marrow' supper!

The sweet peas, sadly, have all but died off with just a few Cupani left. As the weather has been chill and overcast in the last week, this somehow seems symbolic of the slow gentle slide down into autumn - although surely mid-August is too early for this?

And where did I go for my fresh sea air? To Littlehampton, a small harbour town in West Sussex, located between Chichester and Brighton and now plying a fine, but not overwhelming, tourist trade. It's an old fashioned town where, I've since discovered, the tiny cinema is in an old windmill on the seafront. More obviously, the harbour is full of brightly coloured fishing boats and ice cream shops, fresh fish is sold on Rope Walk (the quayside) and you can sit overlooking the Blue Flag beach on the longest bench in the world. This seating continues along the seafront and was installed over the last couple of years at an eye-watering £1 million.

A week goes so quickly so I missed seeing the Art Deco shelters in the award winning municipal gardens, but I did manage a hike along the seafront towards Rustington where the now-pebbly beach was studded with marine vegetation. What could better?

Tempura, tempura!

2011-08-05T22:43:00.000+01:00

At this time of year, as the tempo of the garden increases, it can feel a bit overwhelming to deal with the sheer volume of produce that is hurled at us after months of hard work. A glut of produce can turn to repetition in the kitchen and boredom at the supper table. I was heading in that direction myself with my courgettes - in pasta, or meat sauces, stir fried, roasted, sliced, chopped, grated. Hoping for culinary inspiration, I nipped over to visit my friend who runs our local deli. Actually, it was his quest for courgette flowers last summer which had motivated me to plant them in the veg patch in the first place.

He took a dozen flowers from me. A few were returned the following day, stuffed (with ricotta, parmesan, chives and pancetta), ready to be battered and fried but I had to do this myself. The recipe given to me was so loose it would have given even Jamie Oliver (with his pinch of this, dash of that) cause for alarm. I googled and I read, then I got on with it. The batter was simple, the oil not too deep, the results delicious, although slightly rich for my taste.

I had some extra flowers so, fired up with enthusiasm, I made some more, this time with a simpler filling (ricotta and herbs). For me, that was more like it. The result was sensational: the initial crunch gave way to the softness of the filling, the last bite being the sweet, crisp and juicy courgette sepals or flower base. These would be impressive served for a special lunch but why wait? I think it's worth making them for a summer supper.

The simple batter I made was an amalgamation of two recipes. Some batters use an egg, some use beer or wine instead of cold water. Others don't use an egg, fearing that this makes the batter too heavy but balance is everything and you find your own preference. For the stuffing, it seems there are endless variations on this particular theme; I've found potato and greens, meat, cheeses and herby rice. If you have Mark Diacono's Veg Patch (River Cottage Handbook No. 4) you'll find that he stuffs the flowers with the chopped and sautéed courgettes themselves!

I'm quite taken with the idea of battered veg, and I've read of applying this way of cooking to the unstuffed flowers but why stop at courgettes? I haven't tried it (yet) but I think that the same principle could be applied to pea pods, mange tout, baby carrots and baby corn although courgette flowers visually steal the show.

Fried flowers may not be to everyone's taste but don't let that stop you from making the most of your courgette flowers: I've found plenty of other ways of using courgette flowers on this Australian website.

However, if you'd like to try fried flowers for yourself, here's the batter recipe I used, found in the Telegraph's 'Jamie Oliver At Home' - it's a light eggless batter and I used white wine because I just happened to have an open bottle sitting nicely chilled in the fridge:

200g self-raising flour
350 ml sparkling water - or use a decent white wine
A good pinch of salt

Put the flour in a bowl and gradually whisk in the liquid until it's the consistency of double cream. If too thin, add more flour; too thick, add liquid. It should nicely coat a dipped finger.

Prepare your filling (Jamie Oliver suggests adding grated nutmeg, parmesan, chopped mint, lemon zest and chopped chillies to 200g of ricotta). Gently prise open the flowers and, using a teaspoon or piping bag, fill the courgette and carefully twist the top of the flower to seal it. Repeat with all flowers. Pour oil into a pan up to a depth of about 8 cm. Heat the oil (sunflower is best) to around 180 C - if you don't have a sugar thermometer, drop a piece of potato or bread into the oil; when it turns golden, your oil is ready.

Holding each stuffed flower by the stem (or bottom for female flowers), dip it into the batter and carefully transfer to the hot oil. (Don’t fry more than two flowers at a time or the oil temperature will drop.) Fry for about a minute (you’ll be able to see when it’s done as it will turn golden and crisp). You may need to turn it in the oil to cook both sides. Remove with a slotted spoon onto kitchen paper. (I used a silicon spoon which works just as well.) Serve as soon as possible, with lemon wedges and a lovely salad.

Tales of York Rise

2011-08-04T01:48:00.006+01:00

Rose finial

Thistle finial

I've been thinking for some time about putting up a page on the history of York Rise. Not only are the flats in a conservation area but they were very innovative when built in 1938: a lot of thought went into the planning to ensure that the properties were more than just housing: plenty of outside space for gardening, leisure and playspaces for the children despite proximity to Hampstead Heath. Sheds were provided for pram storage as there were no lifts to the top floors. (Very handy now for garden tools!) Every flat had a balcony so the occupant could open the door and enjoy fresh air and each balcony had a window box for flowers or tomatoes. My personal favourite was the wonderful Gilbert Bayes designed ceramic finials, shown here, sitting atop the drying line posts; they were removed 15 years ago for safekeeping but I'm on mission to get them restored, if only in the shape of replicas. (The rose and thistle were the emblems of the London Midland Railway who funded the initial build.)

Families, friends and neighbours were relocated as one from the Somers Town area behind Euston and were bonded by moving to this new life together. Most of the tenants today were either born here or have lived here for many years; elderly tenants have known some of today's mothers since they were babies; this not only adds to the sense of community (people know each other here) but provides a wealth of history if you have the time to chat, which I do. I enjoy knowing that this is such a safe, and largely peaceful, community that people have wanted to grow old here.

So, the history. Well, I've finally been spurred into action by someone who used to live here, in fact was born here, and contacted me through this blog. She left in 1983, I moved here in 2002 but it's astonishing the number of people here that we both know (of). I've been entertained by email with stories from the past and she's been kind enough to provide me with a few photos from her personal archives.

So the history page at the top of this blog is about York Rise beginnings and how that ties in with our veg growing today. I hope that other readers will enjoy it, even if it may be a bit long - and on Friday I'll be back with the veg news!

The Wonderful Wyvern, who used to sit in the centre.

Saturday Snap: Beauty among the Beasts

2011-07-31T07:29:00.003+01:00

Two weeks ago I wrote about the Zucchini Chop, an exercise in removing unnecessary leaves from my courgette plants to direct energy to the fruit. Since then I've enjoyed a daily exhibition of beautiful new flowers and tender leaves emerging to protect the fruit while the remaining leaves have swiftly grown to fill the gap left after the cutback. The plants now stand proud, healthy and large once more in their space - a dual edged sword as it happens. On the plus side, children are reluctant to race down the narrow path in the middle of the veg patch for fear of scratching their shins but, not so good, is that smaller children (the under-5s) are less able to easily access the beds for watering, a task they like to help with. I think it may be time for a few more leaves to come off!

The above photo was actually taken in the evening. I like to just have a little meander round, check on the progress of recent sowings (peas, parsley, carrots all growing well), perhaps pick a few sweet peas or sample a raspberry or two (autumn raspberries just coming into fruit) or munch a freshly picked spinach leaf. I intend to make some more stuffed fried courgette flowers (absolutely delicious, more on this with recipe in the next post) so was counting the flowers that were ready for this. Peering through the larger leaves, this beauty caught my eye, it's yellow petals singing out, the dusk light lending an almost purple tinge to the soil below. I think this may be one of my favourite snaps! (I do love my veg.)

Some tips with today's Saturday Snap:

1) Identifying courgette flowers: male flowers are long and slender on a slim stalk, almost like a rose. Female flowers are the ones that make the courgettes and have plumper flowers on a chubbier stem. The female stem looks like it will become a courgette; in some cases the slender courgette can be picked with the flower still attached and the whole thing battered and quickly fried. Delicious.

2) Encouraging more fruit: It's essential to leave some male flowers; without them, bees have no pollen to carry across to the female flowers. It's this act that pollinates the flower, causing the courgette fruit to form.

3) Photographing veg: evening light - if you catch it right - is so much more forgiving than harsh middle of the day sunlight. The midday sun creates hard shadows and burnt out texture in photos; however great the subject may look to the naked eye, I'm always disappointed with the results if I photograph in strong light. The veg patch is shaded by late afternoon and the last of the day's sun is sometimes reflected back onto the veg by being bounced off nearby windows. This is a perfect time (around 6 - 7pm) in the summer to take photos.

Buried Treasure

2011-07-29T13:28:00.000+01:00

Clearing the long walled border last Friday meant tackling not only the insidious weeds and ivy roots but also digging up the potatoes which had magically appeared from tubers overlooked at the end of last year. Frank was the spade man for the day and he was charged with going very carefully around the fruit trees and self-seeded sunflowers - no mean feat as the sunflowers were being propped up by the potato haulms. He did a smashing job, although I did have a jug of sunflowers to enjoy indoors at the end of the day.

The main treat though was the sheer amount of beautifully coloured potatoes that he found in the soil. Purples (Blue Danube), pinks (possibly red Cara) and creamy golds were revealed with every forkful. I took them home and washed them carefully; half way through the operation, I thought I'd better weigh them. So, with the mud removed and dried off, I popped them on the kitchen scales: 6.4 kilos, almost 14 lbs! Not bad for a free harvest, eh? Plenty to share amongst friends - and I've still got my Vivaldi, Charlotte and Pink Fir potatoes to uncover! Three cheers for summer!

See you tomorrow for the Saturday Snap!

Caro x

Fleur-tation!

2011-07-27T15:52:00.000+01:00

I've always loved the idea of weaving a few flowers through the veg patch, an idea that really took root after watching Alys Fowler in her Edible Garden on the BBC last year. I already had sunflowers, nasturtiums, calendula and flowering herbs but this year have truly succumbed to a more floriferous outlook by sowing a small patch of sweet peas. These (in the photo) are Spencer Mixed. I also have Old Spice which seem mostly to be either a deep wine colour or ballerina pink. Very pretty, a beautiful smell and, by picking often, the stems are encouraged to keep flowering.

I've enjoyed these so much that other flowers have crept in as well: Honeywort (which has yet to flower), Monarda, Honesty, primula, poppies and violas. Seeds of cornflowers, nigella and bergamot have been sown (possibly a bit late as they've been shaded by the courgettes). Just this week I planted a Rudbeckia into one of the walled borders (next to the lilies which no-one had the heart to dig up when the ivy went) and a plant-sale echinacea (cone-flower) went in next to beans.

My first love will always be for veg but I confess to a moment of heart-fluttering excitement on finding a Cowslip (primula veris) of RHS Merit provenance on the shelf at Morrisons for a mere £2! A bit of research reveals that the leaves are traditionally used in Spanish cooking as a salad green and the plant is also the main food of the Duke of Burgundy butterfly. I live in hope.

Meanwhile, my fleur-ting with florals will continue as I'm currently reading Joy Larkcom's Creative Vegetable Garden which is chock full of horticultural happiness on every page.

:: flowers of golden oregano growing near to my sweet peas ::

Blue Skies at Dawn! (The Saturday Snap)

2011-07-23T22:29:00.000+01:00

(That title is for Flighty - I couldn't resist after his comment on my recent post, The Zucchini Chop!)

It's been a busy week, almost too much happening in fact so, to make the most of another (frankly, by now unexpected) day of dry weather, I zipped down to the veg patch early, postponing my weekly slog to the supermarket. Blue skies and warm sunshine graced the veg patch by 7.30 a.m. (not exactly the dawn of my post title but good enough), a welcome turnaround after the night-time rain that had still been falling three quarters of an hour earlier.

Saturday mornings here are quiet, there's hardly a soul about, but it was still a treat to see this gruff looking wood pigeon perching on the wall. What surprised me was that he stayed there, even when Geordie Frank (neighbour, pensioner and my erstwhile garden labourer) spotted me reaching for my camera. "Alright then, Flower" he bellowed from the other end of the block. "What're you up too, eh? Aw heck, look at that bloody great pigeon, what a size, heh heh, 'e's far too fat to fly." (Guffawing loudly while ignoring my pleas to shush, stop, be quiet ... pleeeease!)

:: Wood Pigeon, aka Columba Palumbus which I think suits it very well ::

So, I got my shot, then managed a second closer photo and then Columba Palumbus, who'd had enough, simply turned tail and walked off, ploughing it's way through the ivy.

Onwards to the veg patch to plant out some Strawberry Popcorn, recently gifted from Victoriana Nurseries in Kent. I'd ordered this a tad late so it needed to go straight in to a bed which I'd already prepared for it, having mulched it a few weeks ago and then covered it to keep it warm and weed free. The first plant went in and, in the blink of an eye, a small grasshopper jumped on to the corn leaf. My first sighting of the year. Quietly and quickly, I reached again for my camera but I could have taken my time, he stayed there for half an hour or more, basking in the warm sunshine. Had he travelled from Kent? I don't know; but I do know his presence added to the enjoyment of my morning.

:: Ah! Grasshopper! (Not cricket, who have longer antennae) ::

I spent a happy few hours in the Veg Patch yesterday, got loads done, got two Saturday Snaps and now keeping my fingers crossed for more dry weather so that I can get the rest of my planting finished.

Posts may come thick and fast this week as I have such a lot to tell. Exciting times in the veg patch (for me, at least!) Hope you'll join me, Caro xx

P.S. In finding the link for Victoriana Nurseries, I have just read of the demise of the Shirley family's beautiful dog, Polar Bear. Stephen Shirley writes of the loss to his family in a very heartfelt way and I feel very saddened by this news. My sincere condolences to all the family. With love, Caro x

When it rains, it pours

2011-07-20T09:09:00.000+01:00

I've been very lucky with the weather over the past few days; having been out to sow more seeds, the skies have obliged with a generous watering. When I've needed courgette flowers, the sun has warmed the plant, the bees have appeared and fruits formed. During a trip to the farm yesterday, we strolled in warm sunshine and I was able to take some Lemon Balm cuttings from their wild growing clumps. Safely back indoors, it rained during the afternoon. Going out to pick sweet peas in the evening (having been told that picking encourages more flowers), I noticed that the nasturtiums were studded with diamonds! Raindrops glittered on the waxy leaves and this water, puddled in the centre of a leaf, twinkled brightly like a large glass drop.

Even better, just as I was turning to go home, a bee buzzed along straight into an open female courgette flower to pollinate it! Not a great photo, but lovely to see the bee doing his work and a magical moment to end the visit on.

Today: if the rain holds off, a bit of weeding and pruning is on the cards for me! Fingers crossed and happy gardening!

The Zucchini Chop

2011-07-18T09:30:00.001+01:00

This is my first year of growing courgettes so I was thrilled to see the plants flourishing in the few short weeks after planting out, although the way their magnificent but prickly leaves overspill onto the paths through the patch is slightly daunting.

As I watered around the veg patch on Friday evening, my Zimbabwean neighbour (who has a wealth of experience in veg growing) came over for a chat. The common names of plants often differ between our countries and he was curious about the courgettes. Having established what the plant was, he told me that in his country the whole plant would be eaten: flowers, stems, leaves, fruit. Surely the leaves are too spiny for that? Not at all, apparently they soften in cooking. My plants, however, had been insufficiently watered (guilty as charged, although the weekend deluge will have rectified that) and the stems were too tough. He demonstrated by cutting a lower leaf close to the stem and peeling back the strings. The stalk was hollow and the flesh rigid; if it had been tender, he would have saved it from the compost heap and taken it home to be eaten, although the best leaves are further up the stem. So, lesson one: courgettes need lots of water.

There was further advice. "The plant is having to share the food between the fruit and the leaves. You do not need the leaves near the ground." Well, that made sense to me. So, knife in hand, I sliced where I was directed to and leaf after giant leaf came away. Soil was revealed (enough to sow some quick radishes or shaded spinach), air could circulate around the plants, sweetcorn was rediscovered and an achievement shared. Really, an enjoyable, companionable, useful and educational evening where another curve of the learning spiral was successfully negotiated.

This is the 'after' shot:

If I'd thought about it, I should have used the same angle to take the photo. Sorry, but I hope this will illustrate nicely the after-effects of the (rather drastic) chop. Does anyone else do this? And has it worked for you? I'd love to know!

Saturday Snap: Bee Balm Bergamot

2011-07-17T09:19:00.005+01:00

:: Monarda growing next to my fennel which is currently over 8 feet tall! ::

I'd hate to think I was falling into a pattern here but, yes, this is another herb! Edible, medicinal, beautiful, this plant was named for Nicolas Monardes, a Spanish physician, who wrote a book in 1574 describing new world plants, of which this is one. Today Monarda (aka Bee Balm, Horsemint, Oswego Tea) is identified as being part of the Lamiaceae family, a huge group of plants which includes many of the culinary or aromatic herbs. So my little bergamot flower is related - amongst many others - not only to sage, mint, rosemary, lavender and thyme but also, bizarrely, teak and coleus. (Amazing what you can find out on the internet!)

I've grown this from an unpromising looking little seedling, bought for pence at a plant sale in May last year. It came from a Victorian garden I like to visit (or, at least, from one of the volunteers who keep that garden looking so inviting). They hold a plant sale every year to raise funds for the National Gardens Scheme and a few Monarda cuttings had been brought along for the sale. I was unfamiliar with the name Monarda when I bought it but a quick Google search revealed that I had a plant that would be very attractive to bees. Excellent! and the photos of what it might look like were very exciting. A very happy purchase indeed!

I had just the one fragile little plant and lots of concerns about its survival but, by surrounding it with a cut-down 5 litre water bottle - and staking the 'cloche' in with bamboo skewers - it was protected from buffeting winds and inquisitive fox cubs and has thrived in my herb bed. It spreads, so I now have a clump of monarda, a fact which I'm delighted about - especially now it's flowered.

On a more factual note, the flowers are edible, making an attractive addition to a salad. The leaves and shoots can be cooked and added to salads but it's not the same plant that gives Earl Grey tea is citrus flavour: that's Citrus Bergamia. Naturally antiseptic, a poultice of the leaves can be used to treat skin infections and wounds and an infusion of crushed leaves is said to be good for headaches and fevers as well as being both a stimulant and carminative. Apparently the leaves can taste bitter, (think spearmint, oregano, thyme), so I'm unlikely to be enjoying a cup anytime soon ... although with a spoonful of honey, it might make a refreshing alternative to paracetamol for the occasional headache! It grows up to 3 feet (1 metre) tall and the leaves can be cut down in the Autumn when it's finished flowering, ready to start again in Spring. It can be propagated by seed or cutting or dividing. It's also reputed to improve both the flavour and health of tomatoes when planted nearby. Awesome! I'm more than a little bit in love with this plant.

I have no idea whether this is M. fistulosa or M. didyma - if any of my more knowledgeable friends could advise on this, that would be most appreciated!

Shall we just have a close up?

I'm a little late in posting this so I'll wish you all happy Sunday gardening with hopes for dry spells (we've had a fairly soggy Saturday here in London).

Midsummer Veg Patch view ...

2011-07-08T20:27:00.000+01:00

:: Sweet corn 6 weeks after planting out ::

Oh dear, 8th already and the last month has turned without the veg patch progress being recorded. Time for an update, I think; the days are slipping away and my brain is already planning winter veg.

I remembered to snap a few pics a week before the end of June and then took a few more a day or so ago, both of which are a week away from a true end-of-month but between them will provide a useful log of information for next year. Take these courgettes, for example. Planted out early June, 4 weeks later, leaves the size of dinner plates with a few flowers. Good progress or good horse muck, who knows? Tra-la-la, it works.

:: 5th June courgette, approx 8 inches ::

:: 5th July courgette, approx 3 ft ::

The UK weather in June gave us some sunshine (plus 2 days of heatwave), brisk breezes and plenty of rain - often in the same day! Nights were cool and dawn often gave way to clear blue skies that clouded over by mid-morning. Endless days of buffeting winds made seed sowing and planting out quite challenging. Weeds flourished in the wet and warmth; continuously clearing them off became a necessary chore (which I haven't quite kept up with, despite a 2 hour session in a downpour). Early beetroot and carrots were enjoyed, beetroot tops, spinach leaves and herbs were added to salad (Oh for a few chickens to add freshly laid eggs to this!), french beans were resown along with sweet corn, radishes, spinach and wildflowers. The lavender, oregano and thyme flowers in the herb bed are a sight to gladden the heart on a sunny morning.

Recently though, I seem to have lost the habit of popping down every evening, there's just too much else to do. So, the spinach has bolted and new baby leaves are not quite ready, spring onion seeds are still in the packet whilst I continue to buy from the supermarket, the next lot of carrots are still to go in. Shame on me, most disorganised!

On the bright side, onions, garlic, carrots and beetroot are bulking up, the courgettes are flowering - in fact the sweet corn is struggling as most of it is hidden under the courgettes (is it too late to transplant, I wonder?).

Sweet peas are now scrambling rapidly up the netting, hopefully there'll be some flowers to look forward to in July as well as peas of the edible variety. Self-seeding flowers (poppy, cerinthe, borage, honesty, calendula, nigella) added to the patch this year will make a bigger impact next year, but at least they're there. The sunflowers (unplanned and sprinkled throughout) are a cheerful sight, growing up through the potatoes but the large ones, frankly, are blocking the path through the veg patch. Next year, I'll be more ruthless in pulling them out. (There's that learning curve, again.)

Saturday Snap: For Conrad, whom we loved

2011-07-02T23:22:00.007+01:00

This week's photo is dedicated to the memory of Conrad Quashie, one of the three 'gap year' boys who died in a coach crash in Thailand last Monday. Conrad was known, and loved, here at York Rise as his mum is a close childhood friend of one of our group. He regularly visited over the years and played out with our children, being of a similar age. He was popular, warm, funny, kinda cool as well, being the eldest; a truly lovely boy with a natural and easy charm, one of the best. Conrad, his mum, his sister and all their friends and family are in our thoughts, the same for the other two boys, Max and Bruno. Their deaths have touched our lives here with sadness and brought unimaginable grief to their families. It's unfathomable that this has happened and I wonder, how does life get this unjust?

Today's photo of Echinacea Purpurea was taken in the Urban Physic Garden in Southwark, about which I'll write more later.

Beetroot babies

2011-06-28T08:37:00.001+01:00

After yesterday's heat (33 degrees in London, apparently - a scorcher for the UK and quite uncomfortable - could do with a good thunderstorm to freshen the air), it was very pleasant to pop down to the veg patch in the evening (it would have been nicer if the flying ants weren't around). The beet leaves have doubled in size over the past couple of weeks so I had a bit of a poke around to see how the roots are doing and saw that one or two have grown to golf ball sized and decided to pull them. I didn't thin them this year, fully intending to lift the baby beets for eating by way of allowing the others more room to grow. (Monty D's influence, again!) I can't tell you which ones are which because, having planted three varieties in straight lines, a fox (probably) rummaged in the bed, scattering the seeds whilst digging. The bright pink globes I know are Chioggia which have beautiful pale and dark pink rings. The others could be Cheltenham Greentops or Perfect 3. I'm leaning towards the Cheltenham because of the position in the raised bed, but I really wanted to do a taste test on the fully-grown vegetable and now won't know for sure; I wonder if I re-sowed now whether the crop would mature by autumn?

Saturday Snap: Pond Life

2011-06-25T16:19:00.001+01:00

I've been having a Dorothy moment this past week; you know, the bit where the whirlwind picks her up and whirls her around until she's plonked down in Oz (on the witch). Well, I've been whirling here and there, squeezing in time for friends and visits from family, waiting in for repair men, catching up with the bookwork (essential, but OMG, yawn), working, baking (this, I suspect, was a diversion from the paperwork), crocheting, crafting (beaded bracelets while babysitting), repotting, weeding, etc, and have finally taken to carrying packets of seeds in my pockets so that I can sprinkle a few around even I only manage a few moments in the Veg Patch. (Actually, a very effective tactic.)

So when I found the time to visit the City Farm on Tuesday (the sun came out), with a small charge in tow, it was soooo nice to lie on the sun-warmed wooden deck, next to the nature pond and quietly peer down into the dark murky depths to see if we could spot any tadpoles. We've been visiting on and off for a while now so I knew they would be there but I wasn't sure whether the tadpoles had become little frogs yet. (Science was never my strong subject.)

At first there was little to see - some pond skaters and water boatmen, a few ripples and bubbles from under the water - but finally our patience and whispering were rewarded. This little guy floated up to the surface long enough for me to take a snap, before he slowly swum away and submerged.

I think it will be a few more weeks before any frogs are seen as he hasn't begun to get legs yet but the visit gave me the perfect excuse to stop whirling and lie still in this tranquil spot to watch and listen. Curious how the pond always seems to be a place of calm while the rest of the farm goes about its busy working day just a few metres away.

Now I've just got to whirl down to the Veg Patch as it's almost July (where did June go?) and I need to do another veg patch overview.

Toodle pip,
Caro x

P.S. More City Farm photos on Flickr and, in case you're wondering, I'm crocheting a granny square blanket, precisely because I can squeeze in a few stitches every now and then!

Saturday Snap: Cherries in the rain

2011-06-18T15:20:00.002+01:00

The weather here in North London over the last few days has been, on the whole, overcast grey skies yielding to heavy rain or drizzle. Sunshine has been rare or fleeting which makes me think that either they're having wonderful weather in the Midlands or that Gardeners World Live, held at the NEC in Birmingham and screened on BBC2 last night, was filmed earlier in the week - say, on Tuesday, when the sun shone for most of the day.

Yesterday was another on/off rainy day here and, as I meandered around the veg patch, the brilliant pop of colour provided by the cherries and strawberries really caught my attention. The cherries appear to colour up more each day and, as I weeded around the base of the trees, a cheeky sparrow crept up to peck at the fruit. Definitely time to get the nets out. (Overdue, I know!) It was starting to rain more heavily so I nipped home for my jacket and grabbed my camera at the same time. So this is a Friday-Saturday Snap, it being too windy to photograph the heads of my fennel this morning. Hope it cheers up the weekend for you all!

Don't be fooled by the tempting appearance of these fruits - Morello Cherries are sour and best for making pies and jam. I made the mistake of eating one last year - most unpleasantly, it really was sour!

Grow Your Food for Free (well, almost)

2011-06-14T18:07:00.000+01:00

"Over the years I have travelled down the country rather like a sock slips down inside a wellington boot. ... I have found one universal truth that binds all productive gardeners - none of them like to spend any money! ... In this modern society we're so conned into believing we need money to do anything, yet in other cultures around the world where there is no money, people improvise and make do with what they have." So says Dave Hamilton in the Final Words to his book 'Grow Your Food for Free'.

I apologise for the delayed review of this book, it should have been done weeks ago. Trouble is, every time I pick up the book meaning to speed read it for the review, I get completely caught up in it because it's so good.

The book is sub-titled 'Great money-saving ideas for your garden' by Dave Hamilton (who also co-wrote The Self-Sufficientish Bible with his brother Andy). So it's less about how to grow veg and more about avoiding spending lots of money by retraining your eye to reassess and reuse what you already have. Surely a subject dear to the heart of many an allotmenteer?

Please don't think that the growing, harvesting, storing and cooking of food, whether grown or foraged, is not addressed; the book is sprinkled throughout with tips on propagating, planting out, protecting your seedlings, pests and diseases, drying, storing and using. Do you know how to get an extra harvest from your home-grown veg?

Sunflower perch

Reams of seriously practical advice draw on Dave's long experience as a forager and food grower; this advice is particularly helpful to both short-term tenants who may only have access to their growing space for one or two seasons and to new (and very practical) allotment growers who may be contemplating spending money on tools, seeds, composter, shed, etc.

The book is presented in four seasonal parts and further broken down into chapters relevant to each time of year. Apart from practical gardening advice (assessing your growing space and planning), there's suggestions on acquiring and using free timber - and not just the ubiquitous pallet; facts about the living soil: manure, compost, wood ash, no-dig beds, leaf mould and, my personal favourite, the Chicken Tractor. Edible hedges, building stepping-stone paths, hazel fences, ponds and wildlife gardening, all presented in a very accessible and well-written style. Seriously, I never thought I'd be so enthralled by this; I mean who knew that tomatoes grow better up a string than a cane? Or that peas fare better on horizontal supports as their tendrils work like little hands climbing up a ladder? (Okay, so maybe I'm the last to know but isn't that what's so great about gardening, the learning curve? And this book delivers.)

Because of Dave's self-sufficient background, there's a fair bit of information on gathering food in the wild which won't appeal to everyone. Other information such as building a shed from pallet wood might not be taken up but how to dismantle a shed (should you be lucky enough to be given one on, say, Freecycle) is invaluable.

There's a lot of information packed into its 240 pages - and clear illustrations and photos on almost every page - but, whether dipping in and out, or reading straight through, it's like having a knowledgeable gardening neighbour chatting over the fence, fast-tracking you to the good stuff.

An excellent read. It's available now from all good booksellers.
Published by Green Books in Devon and printed in the UK on 100% recycled paper.

June seed sowing...

2011-06-12T19:06:00.023+01:00

Strawberry and tomato (as if you didn't know!)

My friend Ana has recently built her first raised bed and mentioned that she now needed to give some thought to what she wanted to grow. I always say to home-grow the expensive stuff that would usually be bought from the supermarket, such as spinach and pea shoots, and from there we chatted about what could still be grown in June - especially as the seeds still have to be bought. So that's garlic and onions out then, at least until November or early next year. (Onions are cheap to buy but I grow red and sweet white ones as they're much more expensive.)

One advantage to starting off now is that you may find a few of the seed companies (and supermarkets) are selling their seeds at a discount, but you have to be quick. Thompson and Morgan send out a newsletter with their special offers, worth signing up for as they recently had 50% off all seeds, too late for a mention here as that offer has finished. Also sign up to UK Veg Gardeners (it's free), join the Freebies and Bargains group and get alerted to any special offers as the members find them.

So, back to what can still be grown in June. Actually, rather a lot - with the benefit that the ground will be warm and, hopefully, moist with all the recent showers. For a first year, I would (and did) go for quickly maturing veg such as salad leaves, radish, etc. This will give the satisfaction of eating home-grown without the long wait. Baby spinach leaves can be picked in as little as 4 weeks. Cut and come again lettuce is a good one, but grow it in a partly shaded area to prevent bolting (running to seed) if the weather gets hot again. Home-grown tomatoes are delicious and mini plants are swamping the garden centres at the moment. Go for a small bush type and plant it in a grow bag (if you must, they're so ugly!) or trough to save space in your raised bed for other veg. (Be aware if you buy strawberry plants this year that they won't fruit until next year. They can also easily be grown from seed.)

Spinach leaves and Radish

Some carrot varieties (such as Amsterdam Sprint) take only 12 weeks to mature as baby carrots - but why bother as they're so cheap in the shops, although children are always fascinated with the idea of carrots straight from the garden. (Shades of Peter Rabbit, I think.)

I'd highly recommend Sweet corn, if you have room - baby corn or popping corn if space is an issue - it's so much tastier cooked straight after picking; Stephen Shirley of Victoriana Nurseries gives the inside deal on growing it here on YouTube.

Fennel bulb, beetroot, french beans and peas can be sown outdoors now. Pea shoots can be grown in a window box or kitchen flowerpot and harvested within a couple of weeks as a tasty addition to a salad (as I'm sure all fans of Alys Fowler's Edible Garden programme will know!) - and you don't need special seeds, buy a pack of Bigga dried peas from the supermarket, they'll do the job.

And what about marrows and courgettes, perfect time to sow these straight into the ground. Courgette flowers (the female flowers with the fruit just forming behind) can be picked, stuffed and deep fried while the courgette continues to grow - the plant does get quite big but you can grow stuff around it, such as spinach, lettuce, herbs or nasturtium flowers (edible!).

Chard (Bright Lights) and Butternut Squash

Could you squeeze in some squashes? I fancy Sweet Dumpling squash; a pretty striped small winter squash, cook it whole and stuffed to enjoy it's sweet and tender orange flesh. Seeds should have gone in in May but nature catches up with itself, so it's worth giving it a go. Try training small squashes up a trellis, tying it in with soft ties as it grows and making sure to support the fruits as they develop.

And lets not forget winter veg: mini cauliflowers, purple sprouting broccoli, asparagus for next spring (I'm planning to sow seed for Romanesco cauli aka broccoli when the rain stops). Providing they don't bolt, seeds sown in July will overwinter (it worked for me last year) and make a delicious meal in the spring with some cheese sauce over the top, or add to a stir-fry.

Lastly, try and find a space between other veg for herbs: I can't do without parsley, thyme, oregano, coriander, mint and rosemary being readily available as I'm hopeless at planning ahead with buying herbs. (See my last post for a link to Monty Don planting herbs on Gardener's World.) Shop bought herbs won't last long if left in their pots as the seeds are overcrowded but garden centre herbs planted in a bed with space to grow will last you throughout the summer, and probably reappear next year - a much better investment!

I hope this has provided some inspiration, for Ana and for anyone else reading who may be feeling a bit overwhelmed by choice. If you enjoy veg growing, it's well worth reading books on the subject from the library. Alan Buckingham's Allotment Month-by-Month is a good one, as in anything by Joy Larkcom. You Tube fans might like to check out Claire's Allotment for her excellent how-to videos.

(This post is also for my sister, Sue, who is also enjoying the delights of home-grown spinach from her first raised bed. xx)

The Saturday Snap: Wandering Around

2011-06-11T14:43:00.001+01:00

Due to the rain, I was back indoors in time for Gardener's World yesterday evening. I don't watch it regularly but last night's was jolly good with Monty in his herb bed, dispensing good advice about which herbs will happily grow together, i.e. get the soil type right, one size does not fit all. I particularly liked how to tell the difference between french and russian tarragon, especially as I've just bought a tiny (labelled-as-french) tarragon plant. Carol Klein pottered around her beautiful garden at Glebe Cottage, gathering seed from Hellebores and taking softwood cuttings from a Black Elder (Sambucus nigra) shrub and honeysuckle. (I didn't know you could do that with hellebores.) Catch up with it on BBC iplayer.

I've just been outside to see if I could find any seed to gather from the hellebores in the Secret Garden below my windows but, sadly, the rain has made the flowers mushy and all the seeds have already dropped. I'm probably a week too late but I'd hoped to photograph the seeds still attached to the flowers for today's Snap.

Wandering further along the path, some beautiful Hydrangea heads caught my eye, still glistening with the drops of night-time rain showers; as I rounded into the veg patch, the sun came out from behind a cloud and, although there was a little breeze, I managed to photograph red orach, a yellow ladybird, the unopened centre of a sunflower and honeysuckle rambling through ivy. All together a very satisfying start to the day but now comes the choice: which photo to pick for the Saturday Snap?? I think it has to be

The photo feels so bright and sunny even though there are currently black clouds looming, it's going to be one of my favourites and looks lovely as a desktop background! If you want to see the others, go to my Flickr page (link on the right). I'm not sure how this works, but I think you can also download the photo to your own desktop (if you want).

Tomorrow's forecast is for rain ALL DAY so I'm off to put out tubs and containers to catch the water (good for the blueberries) and to get some more seeds sown. I seem to remember parsley doing particularly well a couple of years ago, sown just before a downpour.

Good gardening everyone! Caro xx

P.S. If anyone would like to join me in the Saturday Snap, please leave a link in the comments box. I'd love to see your photos! xx

Cherriettes of Fire

2011-06-07T19:16:00.002+01:00

Meet my new tomato ...

I'd like to say that this is all my own work but that would be telling porkies. After several attempts I've thrown in the towel with my own efforts and resorted to buying in a few plants. After no less than three attempts at growing a bush tomato from seed, I have been forced to admit defeat. Oh the seeds germinated alright and grew strong and upright until the tiny first proper leaves appeared. The next morning, just a stem. Or a half eaten leaf. I persevered and nurtured but night after night mysterious munchings carried on until there were only stems. I tried again - twice. But this is the current state of my third attempt:

Really just too frustrating! I've since discovered from Emma Cooper's blog that this could be the work of Fungus Gnats - those irritating little flies that hop swiftly around when you water indoor plants. Their eggs hatch just under the soil and the maggoty larvae munch through roots or whatever vegetation is available. A suggested solution is to let the soil dry out between waterings, a better one is apparently yellow sticky traps. (I might check that one out!)

So, during a visit to a well-known home'n'garden centre to pick up more potting soil, I found myself examining the labels in the tomato section ... and picking up a couple of sturdy, leafy plants to bring home. (Nice to see that said emporium has embraced Heritage toms.) I ~~bought~~ rescued a vine tomato called Auriga (looking very abandoned and sorry for itself) and another Heritage tom "Tornado" - although whether I'm the best person to nurture these plants, based on previous form, remains to be seen!

But how could I resist a tomato that was called "Cherriettes of Fire"? I've had the soundtrack to that movie running through my head ever since. It's not a heritage variety but given the abundant flowers already forming, at last I have hopes of a tomato crop this summer. (Fingers crossed against blight, that is!)

The Saturday Snap: Secret Garden

2011-06-04T20:46:00.001+01:00

This last week I went to London Zoo in Regents Park. Have you been to this zoo recently? It's changed a lot (for the better) since I was last there - unsurprisingly, as it's been quite a while since my last visit. (We're talking years, not months, here.) I used to go and sketch there while my (then) baby son slept in his buggy (or I'd practise speed sketching while he watched the animals as a toddler). It used to feel very wrong and very grey, with all the compounds made of brutal concrete and very little vegetation. I felt so sorry for the animals, cooped up in that grey world but still able to see the park beyond the fences, so close but so far. So it was a very lovely surprise to rediscover the zoo as a beautifully lush and verdant space with lakes, shrubs, planting and grass at every turn - so much so that it was sometimes hard to spot the animals! Of course, I completely forgot that it was half-term as well as the London tourist season and therefore the zoo became very crowded - but not before I'd happened upon an oasis of calm in the children's section. Not only, wow!, a giant 4 foot high flowerpot in the entrance but written on it a verse which summed up my thoughts on why I garden. So this week's Saturday Snap (and verse) is

The Secret Garden

The secret garden is a place

Where time moves at a slower pace.

Flowers sway, Leaves rustle,

Away from all the noise and bustle.

Ah, yes, my sentiments exactly.

The Saturday Snap

2011-05-28T09:00:00.002+01:00

Recycling. Save the Planet, blah, blah. Everyone's getting the idea nowadays, aren't they? But instead of just chucking your rubbish out into specific bags or bins, or throwing clutter out to the charity shops, how about a bit of genuine creative UP-cycling - or is it re-using? Gardeners have been doing this for years, saving handy bits of wood, mesh, etc. So when I saw this on a recent visit to the City Farm, I had a quiet chuckle to myself. Today's (two for the price of one) Saturday Snap/s are ...

Raised Beds!

Timber framed with bedknob?
or, below, metal bedhead with knobs?

Have a jolly gardening weekend everyone!

Berry berry rainy

2011-05-27T11:04:00.001+01:00

We're having typical Wimbledon weather in London this week - a few weeks early!

Just two days ago, on a warm sunny evening, I was invited to raid my friend's abundant strawberry patch and returned home with the above tray and thoughts of Eton Mess, strawberries and cream, strawberries in basil sugar, strawberries drizzled with balsamic then dipped in crème fraiche ... choices, choices! I stepped onto the balcony the following day in hot sunshine to prepare the culinary feast.

Yesterday was a somewhat different story: while stepping out over Hampstead Heath, I got caught in ... yes, at last! ... rain showers. As I whizzed homewards, getting absolutely drenched, I kept repeating "think of the veg, think of the veg". It made the soaking so much more comforting.

So much exciting watery goodness after weeks of drought prompted thoughts of an immediate post yesterday but I was thwarted as my son has the laptop for his GCSE revision these days. (I'm availing myself during his Chemistry exam.) Having dried off, I stayed firmly indoors in the afternoon which was just as well because it monsooned non-stop for most of the afternoon:

I watched raindrops gathering on the windows

and as it eased off, I waded out on to the balcony to photograph the coriander:

Wonderful to have a real drenching for all the veg and flowers but, having put out my beans and sweet corn the night before, I wish it hadn't been quite so blustery!

See you tomorrow for the Saturday Snap!

The Sunday Saturday Snap

2011-05-22T15:43:00.005+01:00

Oh dear, this is not getting off to a good start, is it? The Saturday Snap appearing on Sunday ... Not that I've been slacking off, no no. I have been completely distracted by the balcony pigeons breaking through the defences and sitting on my bean and sweet corn plants (supposed to be planted out this weekend). Heartbreaking. I have therefore been up a ladder with my drill trying again to close the gaps and Keep.Them.Out!

Onto finer things... The Saturday Snap this week is continuing with the herb theme:

Sages are flowering everywhere at the moment, on my balcony, on the allotment, in the Veg Patch. The flowers are so beautiful, how could I resist a quick snap? There's a lot more to sage than meets the eye, it being both a culinary and medicinal herb and greatly attractive to bees. Most people will know of common Sage (salvia officinalis) but there are many interesting varieties, pineapple sage and blackcurrant sage (with beautiful red flowers) to name but two. And now, a few facts:

Sage is an evergreen herb which you can harvest throughout the year as needed. Leaves picked in the spring (before flowering) have a mild, warm flavour; after flowering the flavour is stronger and more tannin.
Buy any pot of sage in the spring, dig a hole slightly larger than the pot (best in a sunny spot outdoors), firm in and water. Very easy to maintain, it will thrive in either ground or container.
Container grown sage should be planted in a free-draining loam-based soil in a pot with plenty of room, such as a tall 'long tom' pot.
Sage will need watering in very dry weather but does not like being too wet in the winter so don't stand on a saucer if container grown.
Sage grows quickly and will get big within one season (given enough root room) but can be pruned back in the Spring if it gets too straggly. Don't prune in the Autumn as it may not recover from frost damage.
Despite pruning, sage can get very woody so replace every five years.
Beware! over use of Sage can have potentially toxic effects.

And, for my sister, Using Sage:

Traditionally used with chicken (think sage and onion stuffing), this herb also works well when cooked with potatoes, onions or squashes, such as pumpkin. I've also read that it goes very well when cooked with liver but, as I don't like liver, I'll leave that for those that do!
Sage butter is made by frying the leaves until crisp in either melted butter or a blend of butter and olive oil and this sauce can be used over gnocchi or ravioli stuffed with squash.
Medicinally, sage has antiseptic properties and is used to relieve sore throats and colds. Make a sage tea by infusing one or two leaves in a flask of hot water, strain and add some honey or lemon juice (to make it more palatable!).
Jekka McVicar, in her New Book of Herbs, advises that sage is known to be astringent, antiseptic, antispasmodic and a systemic antibiotic. As well as being used to treat sore throats, it is also used for poor digestion, hormonal problems and to stimulate the brain!
Jekka McV also writes that Sage arrests the ageing process - but, NB the last point in sage facts, above!

Credit where it's due: a lot of these facts have been gleaned from one of my favourite books Grow Your Own Herbs in Pots, written by Debbie Schneebeli Morrell, a friend from York Rise (the street, not the flats) and from a little book I've just reviewed: Grow Your Food: A Guide for Complete Beginners. My review is in the post before this, also quickly found here.

Perplexed by Potatoes? How to Grow Your Food

2011-05-22T14:05:00.002+01:00

... A Guide for Complete Beginners by Jon Clift and Amanda Cuthbert. This is a(nother) new book aimed at novice food-growing gardeners and, after reviewing it, I give this book 9½ out of 10.

I love surprise packages and this little book - just 16cm square - arrived during the week from Green Books, an independent publisher in Devon. Green Books say it will be published this week, on 26th May, although Amazon apparently have had it since 7th April this year!

First impressions: Lovely size and feel. Clear layout, distinct headings, plenty of photos for each plant, drawings where needed, e.g pinching out tomato side-shoots. It's a soft-back book, about the thickness of a monthly magazine, so (and I apologise if this seems sacrilegious treatment of a new book) it's tempting to roll it up and stuff it in a back pocket where it will happily sit until needed. As a gardener who stuffs everything in my pockets, this is a plus. I also like the matt feel of the pages which are printed on recycled paper.

So far, so promising. The main sections are The Basics, then Easy-to-Grow Veg, E2G Fruit and E2G Herbs, arranged alphabetically within their chapters. Each plant has a symbol showing at a glance where/how it can be grown (useful for small space or container growers), excellent illustrative photos and clear information about what to do. Just 6 headings contain all you need to know answers: Plant or seed? Planting/Sowing, How do *** grow? Looking after your ***, Harvesting, Now What? For me, this is the winner. The information is straightforward, concise, to the point and very easy to understand. I've even picked up a tip or two myself and found myself wishing I'd had this book three years ago when I started the Veg Patch.

The downside: There is no index, despite the pages being numbered. This is easily overcome with a few post-it type markers relating to the veg you're planting, although I couldn't find Spinach until I happened on Perpetual spinach! I'm also curious as to the choices of plants that were selected for the book; parsnips and turnips but no pumpkins and squashes? Broccoli but no cauliflower or brussels? The fruit section has nothing on strawberries which, in my view are easy to grow, a good investment (if you're shown how to peg out runners) and expensive to buy in the shops even at the height of the season. Melon (from seed) would have been a nice addition, too. The herb section is very limited - no coriander, no chives, no oregano. Sure, rosemary and sage are easy to grow but how often are they used by the average cook? (This is, after all, a book about growing food and I'd have thought that coriander and chives are frequently used by cooks, along with parsley and basil (featured). Any tips on the uses of various herbs would also have been a big plus point. And what about edible flowers? Many people still want a pretty garden, albeit a useful one. I think that was the appeal of Alys Fowler's garden, the randomness of finding lettuce among the marigolds and so forth.

And so, to summarise: Bearing in mind this is a book for novice food growers, it should definitely take it's place as essential early reading. (I wish I'd had the section on potatoes when I first grew them, as every gardener I asked had a different piece of advice about planting!) What I love about it is the accessibility; when I started growing veg, I wanted to get straight out into the garden, not be sitting indoors reading about it. This book allows that possibility, even including three short chapters covering Before You Start, Useful Gardening Terms (so you don't feel like an idiot) and Common Problems.

Forget Dr Hessayon (for now), this book contains excellent clear advice, does not patronise the newbie gardener and I believe (and hope!) it will give beginners the confidence to get started (whether from seed or plant), to succeed and therefore keep going and to explore other varieties in the future. I imagine the book will get scruffy pretty quickly, having a soft cover, but it's a reference book that belongs in the tool bag or greenhouse, as well as on a bookshelf.

I say again: 9½ out of 10.

(And a bargain at only £6.95 cover price!)

Sold via Amazon or Green Books

And the tip I picked up? I didn't know that basil will grow to 50 cm if you keep pinching off the growing tips ... or that outdoor grown basil (in a warm, sheltered spot) can be cut down to soil level before the first frosts, transplanted and brought indoors where it will throw up new shoots for winter eating. Keep pinching off those growing tips though, else it will flower and become non-productive.

The Saturday Snap...

2011-05-14T14:53:00.002+01:00

I'm introducing this as a new feature on the blog - a regular weekend gallery for photos. I always have a camera of sorts to hand, whether indoors or out and can't resist pressing the shutter button! So, to start with, today's offering is...

This is the basil that sits on my kitchen windowsill. With the sun streaming through the window onto its leaves this morning, it inspired my Saturday shopping list towards salads and pasta dishes. I happened to have a cup of tea in hand while I skimmed through the Waitrose Kitchen magazine for ideas (I love cooking but get bored eating the same tried and tested recipes) and, serendipitously, there was a small column about keeping potted basil at its best:

Keep in a well-lit, protected area away from cold draughts.
Water when the leaves start to wilt and the compost is dry - it only needs a little water, especially in winter.
Stress the plant by not giving it too much warmth and light - it will fight harder to survive and this strengthens the flavour.
When using the leaves, tear them off with your hands as using scissors or a knife may blacken the stem and bruise the leaves.
To encourage bushy growth, occasionally cut back the stems to just above a pair of new side shoots.

Apparently too much water will dilute basil's flavour so it's best to try not to water it for a day before using - something I was previously unaware of.

By doing all of the above, I've managed to keep one basil plant (supermarket bought at the beginning of 2010) going right through the winter months! (Admittedly, it has just about had it now and, once they've flowered, the leaves turn bitter.)

I've most recently used basil in a make-it-up-as-you-go-along pasta dish which turned out surprisingly well and was a big hit with my teenager. If you want to give it a go, I've typed up the recipe here.

Fruit...

2011-05-10T15:12:00.001+01:00

Actually, I rather wanted to title this post 'Pomiculture' but that word relates to the cultivating - as well as growing - of fruit which, here, is not strictly true. Although I think I can make an exception where my lemon trees (now solitary tree) are concerned.

The lemon trees were a bit of an experiment; the decision to purchase a couple of frost-hardy specimens was more out of curiosity for the exotic than any real belief of seeing lemons in London. Not that we're totally gullible but if it says 'Easy to Grow' on the label, we trust that's what we'll get. Last summer the leaves were a real hit with the children - they give off a wonderful citrus odour when squeezed firmly. (I love to do a squeeze'n'sniff, or taste, guessing game with the kids, especially in the herb patch.) Delicate white flowers almost bulked up into Lilliputian lemons but were annihilated by strong winds. After my winter of discontent with the Veg Patch, one tree was definitely a goner with the other having some green-ish stems mixed in among the brown ones. A bit of pruning supplemented by lots of recent sunshine and things are beginning to look up again - we have leaves! By my standards, this is promising.

Other fruit has fared slightly better: apple trees stripped of any potential fruit last year are now, quite definitely, plumping up for a summer showing:

Ditto with the Morello cherry trees which are positively dripping with fruit - and raindrops!

Strawberries on Leigh's allotment (with all day sunshine) are ripening slightly ahead of the Veg Patch strawberries.

As the Veg Patch strawberries were transplanted in early April, this has probably set them back a little, although there are plenty of flowers so we'll see - perhaps giving us an extended, if inadvertent, strawberry season.

I have 10 raspberry canes that are new to the Veg Patch this year, as is the redcurrant, and so it's too early to tell if they're settling in nicely - new leaves but not much else. Two survivors from our first (2009) raspberry order have just started showing Proof of Life by way of tiny drupelets. The first year canes (primocanes) have been replaced with second year fruit bearing canes (floricanes):

I noticed those two ants after I'd taken the photo! Has anyone else noticed large numbers of ants this year? I'm even seeing them on my balcony which is unusual, although probably lifted there by way of the sage plant I had to resuscitate.

Blueberries are into their second year and are definitely confused. They should be bushing up nicely but are like a row of debutantes that have come out in their pearls and underwear, i.e. hardly any leaves but masses of bijou berries. Bizarrely, the bushiest blueberry is the one that is sharing it's pot with two self-seeded foxgloves. Either it's roots are enjoying the shade or it just likes having company. All parts of a foxglove are poisonous and I wonder if close proximity will affect the blueberry fruit? Not sure I'll be eating from that particular tree, or letting the children sample the fruit!

A quick backward glance at last year's fruit list shows that my trip to Capital Growth's soft fruit growing workshop has influenced my choices this year as I've added a redcurrant to the Patch and also have melon seeds sprouting! I saw melon growing in the Regent's Park allotment last August so know that it is possible to grow it outdoors here, and have chosen 'Blacktail Mountain' early watermelon (very small red fruits) and also Minnesota Midget, a small canteloupe melon which has to be started off in a heated propagator. Hopefully there'll be more to tell about these in the End of May round up.

April roundup... Update (2)

2011-05-04T18:44:00.001+01:00

Several blogs that I like to read have posted an end of month review and I'm going to follow suit. I can't think why I haven't done this before as it seems a really good way of keeping track of progress (or, in my case, lack of) month by month.

It pays me to remember that I mustn't compare the state of play in the veg patch with progress elsewhere; after all, it's not a competition but it is really useful to see what other, more experienced gardeners have already planted out or got on the go. It's interesting to see what's happening in different parts of the UK and, in Canada, the Urban Veggie Garden is just experiencing the first flush of Spring. Early sowing can depend on access to a greenhouse (which I don't have) or perhaps having wide windowsills to accommodate seed trays indoors (I'm deficient in that area as well).

I confess, there hasn't been as much sowing progress as I would have hoped (I've been spending a fair bit of time digging out weeds, moving raised beds forward to maximise space and putting a scaffolding plank alongside the path, on the right above). But with this unseasonably warm weather, I have to remind myself that it is only just May so there's still ~~plenty~~ a bit of time. What I have got is lots of sweet peas in toilet rolls on the balcony (Cupani, Mixed Spice, Perfume Duet), which have recently been joined by Lazy Housewife (kindly sent from Matron) and Cosse de Violette beans started off in pots. Sweet corn (Lark and Sparrow - are those real varieties?) will be started off this weekend, as will courgettes (Striata D'Italia), pumpkins and squashes. I'm experimenting with growing melons this year (soon to be sown in a very warm spot) and have chosen Blacktail Mountain watermelon and Minnesota Midget canteloupe from The Real Seed Company. By the end of May, I hope also to have just a couple of bush cherry tomato plants and some peppers on the go. It's said, "wishing's one thing, doing's another" so we'll see...

Back outside, Onions (Hyred and Snowball, above) have been growing in the veg patch for the past month, with Fiorentino Spinach planted in between the red onions (below). The first two rows of Spinach are ready to be picked as baby leaves and the next two rows of seeds were sown over the bank holiday weekend:

Potatoes (Blue Danube, Charlotte and Vivaldi) have sprung up from potatoes mistakenly left in the ground last year (gosh, I feel I'm really baring my soul here! - the veg patch has practically planted itself) but I have actually myself sown three varieties of beetroot (Perfect 3 and Cheltenham green tops for myself and Chioggia for my friend who runs our local deli and likes this variety, which I don't.) The fox chased a mouse over that bed last Friday night, scattering the soil, so it will be a test to see if I can tell the difference as (or if) they grow!

I'd like to have shown the progress in the garlic bed, with 3 rows of Amsterdam carrots companionably sown in between. Sadly, this is not be just yet as a fox (the same one?) dug deep into the bed last Monday and disturbed all the planting. It would seem he was (successfully) after a bird that had probably flown down to pull up my garlic! I guess that's nature for you and, judging by the wing feathers, I think it was a blue jay. Very beautiful. (Sorry to be so macabre with the photo. I didn't know what it was and wanted to identify the bird, so please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.)

The disturbance has blown my garlic experiment out of the water: I'd planted a row of cloves saved from last year's home-grown garlic, a row of store-bought Porcelain Garlic (Music) and a couple of rows of T&M Sicilian Red garlic. I'd hoped to compare the success rate of the different sources. Now who knows what will pop up where? Fingers crossed it isn't as bad as it looks!

I have a couple of beds waiting to be planted up at the end of the month with the courgettes, etc, and buckets of rescued red orache (atriplex rubra) - self-seeded from one tiny garden sale plant. The seedlings were carefully transferred to recycled flower shop buckets before I dug over the bed. (I hate abandoning plants, and will do the same with my beetroot thinnings.) The intention is to replant these around the raised beds with plenty of other flowers to liven up the view.

I've previously written about the rampant growing going on in the herb bed and now the horseradish has flowered (above). Oh my goodness, whatever next! I have no idea what this plant will do next but have read online of people mowing it down to keep it under control - which seems a bit drastic! Equally, I don't know if this is what should be happening with a second year plant and if the roots will still be edible. (If anyone does know, I'd appreciate the advice.)

Elsewhere in the herb bed, evidence of last year's self-seeding is apparent: parsley, coriander, fennel and sunflowers mingle happily together with a few strawberries (from runners). Actually, I rather like this - at least for now!

That's probably enough for today. I'll save news of the fruit and flowers for tomorrow but I'd like to leave you with this photo which fills me with hope: if I'm right, those are ladybird eggs on my fennel so the greenfly on my red Orache had better watch out!

By the way, credit where credit is due: I was inspired to write this End of Month View by Helen/The Patient Gardener, Janet/Plantalicious, Karen/The Garden Smallholding and Flighty/Flighty's Plot.

Update (1) ...

2011-05-02T09:23:00.000+01:00

Well, I went away and now I'm back and have been for a week but ... no blogging? No. I'm currently sharing my laptop with my son who starts his GCSEs Very Soon and has realised that he really should start revising and apparently has lots of coursework that needs finishing. I use the term 'share' very loosely here. It translates as: if I get up early enough, or stay up late enough, I can get a few minutes on said bit of tech. He does have a little jaunt outdoors during the day but, by that time, I'm stuck into other jobs that need doing. I've booked a few minutes this morning to pop in and show you where I've been over Easter and I hope to be back later with a Veg Patch Roundup. (The fox has dug up my carefully sown beetroot, more of which later.)

So, where in the world is this?

This is the bit of Wolverhampton that the public doesn't get to see. Wolverhampton borders onto Staffordshire and this bit of common land is an easy (and very pleasant) walk from my sister's house. (Although the city centre is only 15 minutes drive in the other direction.) I've been rambling, dog walking, and chatting as we strolled in the sunshine across this public right of way.

As my more usual view is looking out across brick built flats, this view back across the fields and way, way into the distance made me reach for my little pocket camera. Turning around, I was quickly walking into this bluebell wood:

Never come for a walk with me if you're in a rush. I love to wander, and wonder. As Tolkein said: "All who wander are not lost." The others had to come back and find me as I kept stopping to look around and take photos. Who knew that nettles had such pretty flowers? Certainly not me!

The weather stayed true for us and a wonderfully relaxing break was enjoyed. I returned home to find that many lovely people in our community had been stopping by the Veg Patch and quietly watering the plants for me and keeping an eye on things. Faith in humanity? Totally restored!

Herb-aceous!

2011-04-20T16:49:00.001+01:00

What a difference 10 days of hot weather has made to my herb bed! One Sunday afternoon recently, I was strolling around the veg patch with my camera in hand. There's a little wall built around it, the kind that small children like to climb onto and walk round with a hand held ... and which provides a nice perch to rest on for weary gardeners. Seeing how untidy the herb bed looked, I jumped up onto the wall to take the photo below so I could have an aerial view of how to reorganise these plants.

I hadn't got round to doing anything to this bed (it largely looks after itself) but the herbs had survived the winter and started re-growing. Parsley had appeared, I think from seeds shaken from last year's (bolted) parsley, and birds pecking at the dried sunflower heads had dislodged seeds which are now growing. Mint cut back in February has bulked up nicely, thyme and golden oregano have spread since being planted last year, the monarda has come back (originally just one tiny shoot bought from a plant sale), the fennel is getting wonderfully fluffy and strawberries have rooted from runners escaping from the nearby pot. But it's all a bit higgledy-piggledy and, well, messy. In need of re-think. So, while I prepared other nearby beds for sowing, that's what I did. I thought, but I didn't actually do.

And this is what the same bed looked like today, just 10 hot and drought filled days later:

I think any hopes that I may have had of rearranging my herbs have to be abandoned for this year! The horseradish is beginning to grow tall and looks (at least from the side view) more like sweetcorn! It's all starting to grow like Topsy with several plants threatening to crowd each other out.

From the back: horseradish, monarda (bee balm), fennel, parsley, sunflowers - with a sprig of rosemary peeking in from the right!

So, organised? I don't think so! My dilemma now is whether to try and move the larger plants (monarda and fennel) to give them more space but I suspect they wouldn't survive the move at this stage. It's still early enough to start again with the fennel and, perhaps, also the parsley. I'd be glad of any suggestions from anyone who's dealt with similar.

Back at home, the window-boxes on my balcony are prepared and ready to sow. I've removed perennial plants and put in fresh compost so that I can grow lettuce, radishes and herbs upstairs, near to the kitchen, where they'll be handy. I read somewhere that viola flowers are edible so I've treated myself to a tray of violas to grow amongst the lettuce, but mainly because I think they're very pretty.

I'm having a little break for a few days as I'm off to visit relatives over the forthcoming weekend. Hope this lovely weather continues (although I wouldn't mind some rain!) and wish you all happy gardening and a relaxing bank holiday weekend! Caro xx

Utter ...

2011-04-14T08:53:00.033+01:00

... as in utter-ly entertaining and utter-ly enlightening; I thoroughly enjoy the conversations that I have with the children here. Gardening in a community space, with anyone and everyone free to join in, means that stepping out with my spade and fork under my arm is a flag for the kids in our community to approach. They're getting quite animated about the prospect of growing more fruit and vegetables this summer. Here's a recent exchange:

Carolyn d'ya know when you're next goin' gard'nin'?
Yes. Why?
Can I grow some stuff?
Yes. What would you like to grow?
Lettuce.
Good choice. What sort of lettuce: pointy, round, crispy, soft?
Y'know, the sort what we grew last year.
(Next child, joining in: We grew 5 types last year. Me: Well remembered, yes we did.)
Well what I'm talking about is the one what's green and got spiky bits.
Umm, leaves?
Yeah, I 'fink.
Hmmm. Shall we look at some pictures, just to be sure?

Believe me, this is progress. Last year the same child asked me to identify a round, brown vegetable:
Carolyn, what is this?
It's a potato. We'll cover it with soil, wait a couple of months and it will make lots more potatoes.
Oh. (pause) What's a potato make then?
Umm, it makes chips.
Ohhh, yeah! (Bing! lightbulb moment).

Ah, so endearing. It's the little chats like this that make it all worthwhile. I swear that kid will grow up to love vegetables! never mind the huge benefits of being outdoors, getting closer to nature and experiencing the seasons through sowing, growing, nurturing and eating.

Are there other gardening issues bothering City Kids? Sure. Will worms bite me? Are they poisonous? Do ladybirds sting? Will they bite? What about wasps, do you have lots of those? Should we like wasps? Will there be bugs? Only I don't like bugs. (5 minutes later this 9 year old asked if she could hold a worm.) I expect there'll be mosquitos, they bite. Me: No, our weather isn't hot enough. (thinks: and not if you drink enough gin and tonic.)

I bet we've all got stories to tell of gardening conversations with children, especially if you start them off young. What have your children recently said in the garden that's made you smile? I'd love to know!

Slightly warmer weather is promised for the weekend - hasn't it been chilly over the past few days? - so I wish you all good gardening at the weekend! Caro xx

Next post: Keeping children amused while you garden, sun and general safety, and the benefits of being outdoors!

Plus! I'm currently reviewing (and thoroughly enjoying) a soon-to-be-published book called 'Grow your Food for Free (well almost)' by Dave Hamilton. It's shaping up to be one for the bookshelf and particularly relevant if you're starting out as a food grower. More news very soon...

Lush ...

2011-04-13T10:35:00.000+01:00

I shouldn't be pleased with this photo because this plant should have been dug up and regrown from a new bare root. This is my horseradish in it's second year. I bought this as a teeny, tiny (and wonderfully verdant) plant last spring from the herb section of a well-known home and garden store. I plonked it into a corner of my herb bed thinking only of the lovely culinary treats to come in the autumn. Belatedly I read the label: "grows up to 60 cm". Oh. And it did. Putting the rest of the herbs in the shade. Whoops.

Now the smart thing would have been to lift the plant after first frosts, divide the root (replanting a few for this year) and pop the big root - which apparently looks like a parsnip - into a plastic bag in the fridge for food use. I can't quite remember what went wrong there, except that last year was Not Good in the garden and, sidetracked by a new job, by the winter my gardening willpower had turned into gardening won'tpower.

Best intentions to get on with the job in the spring were foiled by downpours on my days off. Strangely, digging in very wet mud in the cold and rain is not high on my list of favourite activities. By early March it was all too late. Little curls of green leaves were sprouting and after an experimental dig around it's base, I found out why the plant has a reputation of taking over the garden. Spreading roots.

Five weeks on and it's looking very lush, here it is behind the fennel - it's going to be another good year for horseradish! It is a very magnificent sight when fully grown but I had planned to move the herb bed to the other end of the veg patch and grow sweet corn in the space left behind. Time for a rethink? I'm pottering around today in the garden, which is the best place I know of to reformulate my plans.

Wiggling...

2011-04-12T19:25:00.000+01:00

Take a gardening conversation out of context and it takes on a completely new meaning: I've got worms. Pardon. Yes, lots of them. Pardon. Pardon? You heard.

See what I mean? Not your standard socially acceptable dialogue, is it? However, I'm actually very pleased to reveal that I have got worms. Earthworms. Annelids. Lots of them. Whole families - at least little ones and large ones. (At this point, I was going to offer more info via Wikipedia but, trust me, it's not what you want to be reading before dinnertime. Let's just say they're not your typical nuclear family.)

Two years ago, we set up the veg patch with raised beds (guessing that the soil underneath would be fairly rubbish after a couple of decades of growing rose bushes and cotoneaster), but one patch was left as bare earth and I tipped my emptied potato sacks on there last autumn. Digging it over ready to relocate my strawberries and (hopefully) put in some melons, I had to be very careful where I was spiking the soil with my fork. Every clod revealed wiggling worms which, as we all know, is very good news indeed. Unless you're a worm. Perhaps it's no surprise that, in the quiet of the early morning, I had plenty of company in the shape of sparrows, coal tits and starlings! (At least, I think that's what they were; I'm certainly no ornithologist.)

I'm lucky as I can hear birdsong most of the day. There are several trees near my windows and, throughout the day, I can listen to - and see - robins, coal and blue tits and wood pigeons (as well as normal city pigeons, but let's not go there).

Plotted...

2011-04-07T19:53:00.000+01:00

Sensible, moi? Not usually, but this year I'm going to give it a go. This year, I've got A Plan.

In the first year we pretty much chucked in whatever we thought would grow from August onwards. (There was a lot of clearing to do first.) So that year was what we shall call our Salad Days. Year Two was the Year of the Fox ... and the Aphid ... and the Cat. So although we planted plenty, not much was harvested (okay, beetroot, beans, the odd radish, tomato or strawberry.)

But this year it's going to be better! For a start, I'm growing what I want to eat so I spend less at the veg shops. Kale, broad beans, runner beans - these are all out of the window. Nothing wrong with them, they're just not my favourite veg. Broccoli, spinach, cauliflower are all in. I've tried to be realistic about what I can grow in the time available. (Only time will tell on that one!) Even so, the list is surprisingly long:

I've emptied out my basket of seed packets (no, that's not all of them above - if only!), written down the veg I like, chucked out any out of date seeds, offered the unwanted as freebies, resolved to grow salad and herbs on my balcony where I can pick it when needed and, finally, drawn up a plan of where I can try to fit all this in (not yet in colour, although may get round to it soon!):

(The smaller plan is last year's thoughts on where to put the children's raised beds. This year's is in pencil underneath.)

Amazingly, it's the first time I've done this and it's been a very useful process. I've now got a good grip on what needs to be done (scary but realistic). I actually thought about putting the tall stuff (like sweetcorn, french beans and artichokes) at the Northern end of the plot, so any sun we may have can get to the veg that need it. The beds drawn at the bottom of the plan get early morning sun and the plot is in full sun by about 9.30 a.m. in midsummer. By 2 p.m. the shade is gradually taking over, starting with the beds at the bottom. I'm hoping that the taller plants may act as slight buffers for the wind. There's a lot to consider when you're trying to grow between two long 4-storey blocks of flats!

Last night I managed to dig over one bed, move it to a better position so I can plant bug-lovin' flowers behind it and start sowing. Tomorrow, the same for the next bed, also herbs and strawberries will have to be gently relocated. Here's hoping for continued good weather ... if not, I'll be balcony gardening with this lot:

Eventide ...

2011-04-02T20:30:00.001+01:00

Sometimes it pays to look up from your keyboard:

:: 7.35 p.m. Sunset over Hampstead Heath, across the rooftops ::

Typing away this evening (talking about wildlife ponds with Flighty), glanced out of the window to see this most extraordinary Caribbean-like sunset. Within 15 minutes, the sun had slipped over the horizon into night. What a totally marvellous end to the day - hope it bodes well for some good Sunday gardening tomorrow!

Buddies ...

2011-04-02T08:08:00.001+01:00

I'm well behind in the sowing stakes and the weather has been very mild for March (at least in London) so whereas fellow gardeners have got off to a flying start, I'm still drawing up plans of what I can grow in the available space.

I don't have a greenhouse so all my sowing has to be on the kitchen windowsill (not much room), on the balcony (until recently, a pigeon roost) or outside (still a few frosty nights). So I'm going to unashamedly show off* some more blossoming fruit: these are a few of the many fruit buds on my blueberries. We've got four blueberry bushes in total, growing in huge pots as they like acid soil.

These are second year bushes, and we had a small quantity of fruit last year (briefly seen, before the children swooped) so this year, the nets are out and the hopes are high!

Thrilled ...

2011-03-30T13:44:00.002+01:00

I have to tell you I'm feeling highly delighted today; Would you just look at this blossom! This Conference Pear was planted as part of the 'mini-orchard' in November 2009 on a bitterly cold day, immediately after clearing the choking ivy. After an anxious wait through snow-filled winter days, a few buds proved it had survived its first winter. Not much else happened in 2010. After seeing this, I'm tentatively looking forward to eating some delicious home-grown pears from this 18 month old tree later this year.

Stuff you might like to know...

The pear trees were supplied on semi-dwarf rootstock so shouldn't grow taller than 10 feet. (A pear tree in a nearby park is SO tall you couldn't reach the fruit even with a high ladder!) The planting holes were part filled with good rich compost as the existing soil in the walled flower borders was pretty tired.
Fruit trees should be left for their first year, with all blossom pruned off, so that all energy goes into establishing a strong root system.
Second year trees may need feeding with potassium (for fruit and flowers) and/or nitrogen for growth. I'll use dried poultry pellets for our pear trees which is the organic option. They'll also benefit from deep mulching around the tree with organic matter (such as leaf mould or garden compost) in mid to late spring but make sure the mulch is applied at least 10cm away from the tree to stop the bark rotting. This will help to preserve moisture around the roots in the summer.
RHS offers more detailed advice on this topic here.

Funny ...

2011-03-29T16:15:00.003+01:00

Of the many requests (mostly ignored) that I get for sponsored promotion on this blog, this one DID get my attention - for all the wrong reasons!

Subject: Congratulation : Your Blog Have Choose For Featured At Bed Comforter Sets !

This is Shiela (sic) from bedcomfortersets.me.uk

We stumbled on your blog while searching for Bed Comforter Sets related information. We operate the largest Bed Comforter Sets website featuring more than 30,000 blogs. Our site averages 200,000 uniques visitors per month. Based on your blog's popularity and other factors, we have featured your blog at bedcomfortersets.me.uk.

We would be grateful if you could add our details to your blogs main page.

Hmm. Now, what could I have said to that? Perhaps:

Dear Shiela,

Thanks for your interest - do you think you might have ever-so-slightly missed the point? Nice bedlinen to comfort my raised beds? Now that would only spoil my veg rotten. ; )

Yours,

Urban Veg Patch

-------------------------

On another (completely unrelated) note, here's a picture of a rather fetching asparagus shoot that I found in the vegpatch this morning. Probably should have been picked before now but will be cooked by 7 tonight.

Sunflower Challenge 2011

2011-03-22T15:52:00.001Z

Last year I encouraged the Veg Patch Kids to grow sunflowers, just for the love of growing spectacular plants. We planted them in a row against a warm sunny wall where their large yellow blooms nodded gaily at passers-by and drew some very complimentary comments. (The Veg Patch sits in a 'sunken' garden so the flowers, despite being over 6' tall, were at eye level!)

We'll do the same this year (but, hopefully, with lots more flowers planted). It's such a fun thing to do with children that nearly everyone does it and, if you haven't got your seeds yet, can I point you in the direction of a Sunflower Challenge that's being run to raise funds for Compton Hospice? The name will only be familiar to people in the West Midlands. As this is where one of my sisters lives, I can vouch for this being a very worthwhile cause. I know it through the annual fund raising efforts of local people; in my sister's street, a friend and neighbour makes legendary jams and chutneys from her brother-in-law's allotment and sells the lot in aid of Compton Hospice.

For a £2 donation, which buys you sunflower seeds, enter the competition (as a family, school or group) and be in with a chance to win lovely prizes. Or do it just for fun, knowing that the beauty growing in your garden is making a difference to someone's life.

More info about the competition here - and this is where you'll also find an e-book of sunflower activities to do with the kids, download for free.

The forgiveness of nature

2011-03-13T17:07:00.001Z

This is what lures me back to the garden: despite a lack of motivation/time to tend to the veg patch over the winter months, I recently discovered that I've nevertheless been rewarded by a small crop of extremely beautiful, small and tasty Romanesco cauliflowers. The semi-neglected plants had persevered to produce perfect and stunning little fractal florets, very pleasing to the eye and extremely pleasing to the palate when steamed and served with a light and creamy cheese sauce*. I felt almost mean cutting them down and eating them after so much effort (on their part) through cold winter months but, given the delicious flavour, will definitely be growing them again. (Particularly as they practically grow themselves.)

A quick search online tells me that because they're part of the Brassica family, they're known in France as a cabbage (chou), in Germany as Pyramid Cauliflowers and in Italy as broccolo Romanesco (broccoli). Thereby demonstrating the diversity of the species Brassica oleracea L. Where would I be without Google?

• • • • • • • • •

* I usually make my cheese sauce by adding a variety of cheeses to a basic Bechamel (white) sauce: a farmhouse cheddar, perhaps some Gruyere or Pecorino but this time I used cheddar with a little bit of Fortnum's Stilton which goes very nicely when teamed with cauliflower or broccoli.

A big pile of ...

2011-02-07T11:27:00.004Z

Of all the wonderful attractions that North London offers, my current favourite has to be the City Farm. Yep, I just love it. I'm a simple soul at heart.

The non-urban dweller may not appreciate the full impact of being able to pop in to a working farm on a regular basis with small children. We smell and hear it before we get there - chickens, geese and ducks wander freely around the yard. A pair of pigs rootle happily in squelchy mud, horses are saddled ready to be exercised around the neighbouring roads, goats wander over to say hello and sheep nurture their spring lambs in fields under the railway arches. Three orphaned cows are constantly pestered by crowing cockerels and soon frogs will come to spawn in the pond.

Great stuff, and yes I do know a rhyme or song for every animal (and sing them). But my favourite view is this: a great big pile of steaming poo. Isn't it marvellous? (And, yep, there's a song for this too.)

Well, not so much poo exactly as horse manure and stable sweepings which, as we know, will rot down to very useful soil improver. A sight to gladden any gardener's heart and free for the taking (as long as you ask nicely first and then they'll bag it for you, or so I'm told).

I mention this simply to illustrate that in the Veg Patch's third growing year, our thoughts our turning to muck and soil which is just how it should be at this time of year.

It's been a while ...

2011-01-27T18:28:00.035Z

Well, I'm back. I've noticed that quite a few bloggers step out for a while in the winter months, being busy catching up with real non-gardening life, I guess. For me, it's because there's been absolutely nothing to report. What with the weather having been unforgiving for so long and any good gardening days invariably clashing with my work days. And do you know what? It's been quite nice to not have to think about writing up non-events in my online 'diary'. (News that my gardening catalogues have arrived and I've idly marked a few interesting seeds for the year ahead is hardly riveting, is it? )

I confess I've been giving some thought to letting it all go. I do try to be upbeat about things but, looking back over the last year, gardening seemed to be fraught with problems to be overcome rather than a source of pleasure. Looking forward, I can see the same issues waiting for me: no outside tap for watering, foxes and cats waiting to dig it all up, neighbours helping themselves without helping. Really, is it any wonder that I long for a nice large back garden to call my own?

• • • • • • • •

P.S. Since writing the above, my sanity has been rescued by a friendly neighbour who has come outside to support me with tidying up the post-winter veg patch. My intention was to clear the beds ready for any growers who might be interested but, in doing so - and finding strawberries and herbs springing back into life, I've started to consider what I enjoyed most about last year's growing season and may be here for a while yet - albeit concentrating this year on gardening with the children.

Here's Archie (a very reliable and enthusiastic assistant) helping with clearing the monster beetroot/s.

An unexpected victory…

2010-11-03T19:05:00.001Z

:: Trick or Treaters from The Nightmare before Christmas (6 inch pumpkin) ::

If only I hadn't succumbed to the 'flu, last weekend would have been just marvellous! Remember the pumpkin carving at Fortnums that I wrote about? My sister, nieces, their kids, my son, me - all got together for the day and entered our respective pumpkins. My son and I swiftly carved a couple of pumpkins in the morning (mine, above) before heading off for lunch whilst the rest of the family put a bit more preparation into it, going out to select their pumpkins from a nearby farm:

… and then devoting an evening to the carving. It paid off: I'm thrilled (and very proud) to announce that my niece Kate carried off the first Golden Pumpkin Award in the shape of a bespoke Fortnum's broomstick! Here she is, collecting her prize from Fortnum's jovial judge Simon who dreamt up and organised the whole shebang.

She also won the luxury Windsor Hamper; what luck! we had a sort of pre-nup agreement that whoever won would divvy up the spoils between the family. That was a pretty solid deal for the rest of us as Kate is generally known as a luck magnet. I've got my eye on that hamper basket ;) (fat chance mate!) …although I'd happily settle for the Magnifici florentines and the caviar instead!

The standard of entries was quite overwhelming; the competition was opened up to double the numbers - I think there were over 150 entries, some of whom obviously took the whole thing very seriously:

This King of the Wild Things was carved into an Atlantic Giant, with extra stalks added. Impressive! But it didn't win because it failed in one of the categories - luminosity; the carver hadn't hollowed it out. So there you are, hot tip to remember for next year.

Other pumpkins were very well carved (top right: ma boy's carving of Oogly Boogly, top left: Cheshire Cat by my niece, Jen):

(Sorry, had to get those two in!) Here's a couple more that totally appealed to me, they were so quirky - and of course included plenty of veg and flowers!

Every table in the Ground Floor Gallery restaurant was covered in lit pumpkins as the evening got darker (wolfman, catwoman, haunted houses) and contestants with their families feasted on complimentary snacks and drinks: mulled wine or soft fruit coolers, pumpkin risotto (they've promised me the recipe, it was mega-tasty), sausage pumpkin puff pastry slices, chocolate chilli cream mousse - really, there was no need to make supper when I got home! But I expect what you all really want to know is… what did the winning pumpkin look like?

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B-O-O!

Trick or Treat, dearie?

(And, clever girl, she made the giant sweets on top and filled the inside with sweets and fairy lights!) What? Me, biased? Surely not!! Ha, ha. Well done Kate!!
xxxxx

P.S. I hope that next year I'll see a few London based veg gardeners there with home-grown carved pumpkins? And yes, I'm getting over the 'flu although I suspect it's all downhill towards a filthy cold. So annoying! So much to do in the garden!

Pumpkin Muffins

2010-10-29T21:03:00.005+01:00

Yesterday I spoke of baking pumpkin muffins and promised the recipe. Here it is, hopefully in time for some Hallowe'en partying this weekend. I like to offer iced cupcakes or muffins or decorated biscuits to Trick or Treaters instead of sweets - does that make me odd? It seems to go down well and I find it a more appealing alternative to the bags of tooth-rotting sweets that the kids come back with in their loot bags. (Most of which, in my home, don't get eaten - the thrill being in the hunter/gatherer phase.)

This recipe will make 12 good sized muffins (those are Lakeland muffin cases in the pic above, so probably about 2 inches deep - to give you an idea of size).

You will need:

7 oz (200g) peeled, deseeded and chunked pumpkin flesh
half Tablespoon oil (sunflower or other light oil)
10 oz (300g) plain flour
1 Tbsp baking powder
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 egg (I used large)
150 ml (5 fl oz) soured cream
50ml (1 3/4 fl oz) milk
5 oz (150g) soft brown sugar
2 oz (60g) butter, melted

:: This is the recipe I followed but, as an afterthought, felt the muffins would be extra nice with some fruit thrown in (raisins, sultanas, cranberries). A friend who works at Jamie Oliver's Fifteen restaurant in Old Street also suggested the addition of ground cumin (which sounds delicious!).::

Assuming you already have your carved out pumpkin flesh, allow an hour for this recipe due to cooking time. Important to know this if, like me, you are prone to whipping up a batch of cupcakes in less than half an hour for hungry mouths.

So, let's start:

Preheat your oven to 190C /375 F/Gas 5 ready to roast your pumpkin flesh. Put in a baking dish, drizzle with oil and toss to coat. (Or put oil and pumpkin in a plastic bag and give it a shake to coat.) Roast for about 35 minutes (careful not to burn), remove, cool and mash with a fork.

Then turn your oven up to 200C/400F/Gas 6. Sift your flour, baking powder and cinnamon into a large bowl. In another bowl lightly beat the egg, add the soured cream, milk, sugar, melted butter, mashed pumpkin and combine. (If adding raisins or sultanas and a half teaspoon of ground cumin, put those into this bowl with the other stuff.) Pour this in with the dry ingredients and stir until just combined.

Prepare your muffin pan: either grease the wells or line with muffin cases. Spoon large dollops of the mixture into the cases or pan wells. (See below for tip.) Bake for 20 minutes until risen and golden. Leave to cool for a few minutes then transfer to a wire rack.

I then carried on and iced mine as my tasters were mostly female and under 10 years old but I thought they were nice eaten plain from the oven (I don't have a sweet tooth) and of course if you've added raisins, they'll also add sweetness.

For Hallowe'en, think about icing with orange glacé icing (icing sugar and water) and chocolate stars or with white chocolate and then pipe spider webs over the top.

~Not my best photo - the lighting was poor and the cakes wouldn't last until morning! ~

This recipe is adapted from Susannah Blake's in the book Baking Magic - 280 pages of incredibly tempting muffins, cupcakes, biscuits - both sweet and savoury - with irresistable photos.

Helpful tip - filling cake cases: When making cupcakes or muffins, I can't be bothered with the faff of spooning the mix into the cases (waaaay too messy and time consuming) - I use my ice cream scoop (like this one: Ice Cream Scoop) i.e. a squeezy one that delivers just the right amount of mix over to the cases without mess. I didn't realise they came in different sizes, mines about 5 cm diameter.

Best for carving pumpkins…

2010-10-28T08:51:00.000+01:00

Well, we're nearly at the end of October; I had the best intentions of thrilling you all with a daily dose of cooking inspiration with pumpkin as the main ingredient which - load me up with guilt - has not happened. Those particular seeds of inspiration have fallen on stony ground thanks to a several factors: a few autumnal tummy bugs sweeping through the home, extra large doses of domesticity being required from me as I have my twent-ager niece staying with me (I begrudge housework when I could be gardening) and getting my son off to a school trip to Spain (sooo envious) … not to mention Work.

The draw for my giveaway book took place (drawn by my son) and the winner is: Pandora! The book is now winging its way to Cornwall in time for some spooky and creative carving. Thank you to everyone that entered, it was such fun checking out where y'all hail from.

And I found time to start my pumpkin carving experiments. Tomorrow I'm off to Fortnum's to see how the professionals do it (and will try and take loads of photos for a blog show-and-tell at the weekend).
In the meantime, for anyone about to start hollowing out a pumpkin, this is the tool that works best - for me at least:

Yep - a melon baller. I spooned the orange globe into submission. My pumpkin was fairly small - about 8 inches diameter - and this really did the biz for final smoothing when getting the right thickness. You can see the array of "tools" which I worked through: Sharp knife, small sharp knife , spoon, grapefruit knife. All useful but, seriously, with the melon baller we're talking icing on cake for speed and tired hands. (Plus, I imagine that small, child-sized, hands could manage this easily.) I've read elsewhere that ice-cream scoops can help; I haven't tried - yet - but I'd recommend one that has a clean edge for digging in to the pumpkin flesh.

Did I mention cake? By the end, I felt that I'd earned a treat and I baked all that lovely golden flesh into Spiced Pumpkin Muffins. Yum, yum. Recipe will be posted later today - they're delicious eaten warm from the oven!

Last Day for my Giveaway!

2010-10-15T09:58:00.000+01:00

There are lots of pumpkins appearing in the shops now and, (unlike me) if you were organised enough to grow some this year, I expect you've already harvested a few. Are you saving any for decorating? You might want to know exactly how to deal effectively with all those innards (how to get the shell really clean so your decorated pumpkin won't start to rot and stink so soon), which tools are the best to use (and where to get them from) and how to be inspired beyond the spooky Hallowe'en faces. For the more environmentally minded, there's even a project on making bird feeders from squashes - very important to keep the birds fed as the days get colder and there's less food around for them.

In which case …

… Decorating Pumpkins and Gourds: 20 Fun and Stylish Projects for Decorating Pumpkins, Gourds, and Squashescould be the very book you need (click on the book title for a 'look inside' linkthrough) and - more excitingly! one lucky reader will win a copy ~~by midnight tonight~~ … ~ahem~ by the time I wake up tomorrow morning. Just leave a comment at the bottom of the original post (click here) (or at the bottom of this one - gosh I'm indecisive today) to have your name added to the Wellie Boot of Luck. You can enter the draw even if you don't live in the UK! (A big thank you to everyone who has entered already.)

Regardless of your carving skills, what do you do with the pumpkin flesh? I'd love to know! I've heard a lot about American Pumpkin Pie so will try and track down a recipe for that (anyone got a recommendation for me?) but check back tomorrow and I'll have a pumpkin muffin recipe for you.

And don't forget to save the seeds! Keep a few back for re-sowing next year (wash, dry and store in dry place) and eat the rest! Try this yummy way of cooking them: Chilli Lime Roasted Pumpkin Seeds from Roamyourwayhome, one of the members on Jamie Oliver's food website. I think these would make great grown up Hallowe'en snacks!

2010-10-13T15:08:00.001+01:00

I've just popped a casserole in the oven - a piece of pork belly nestled among carrots, onion, garlic, turnip, parsnips and with sage going in later. (Trying out Heston Blumenthal's recipe of the week for Waitrose.) Bathed in home-made chicken stock (Prue Leith's recipe), it should be beautifully cooked by dinner time and all that will be needed is to mash the vegetables, fry off the meat and serve up with the crackling which is being slowly roasted in the oven alongside the casserole.

It gives me huge satisfaction to know that all the vegetables and herbs in this dish (bar the turnip) have been home-grown and, for me, the wonder veg is garlic. I planted a few cloves of ordinary garlic last November along with the onion sets, partly out of curiousity and partly because I wanted to have something growing over the winter.

I say "I" planted but, actually, the cloves were planted by the Veg Patch Kids, my part being to show the children how to measure the planting distance and dibble the holes (we used the handle of an old wooden spoon, marked to the correct depth) and which way up to pop the cloves in. I'm probably more amazed than they are that a single clove becomes a whole new garlic. Even more amazing, I've read that home-grown garlic cloves will adapt year on year to produce the best bulbs. So I've saved a few of my heroes to go back into the ground later this month.

I assume that everybody grows garlic - it's really not hard - but what I found interesting was the little experiment that I ran. Ever one to fly in the face of good advice, having been told not to plant supermarket garlic, of course I then had to. The original bulbs were, I believe, from Spain – they're the big whoppers in the picture. They were already showing 6 inches of growth when the January snows fell and came through that beautifully. Then, in late April, the Gardening Guru gave me a few more garlic bulbs to sow - Isle of Wight and T&M Choice. They'd just been delivered to him by Thompsons which I thought was a bit late as they need a good frost to start them off. I planted them anyway - some under the plum trees, some between the beetroot (probably not my best idea of the season). The plum tree garlic should really have been watered more regularly and the beetroot garlic was overshadowed in the summer months. A selection of the results are in the photo below, with the clear winner being my Spanish supermarket garlic which grew to be about 2 inch diameter with well-formed tasty cloves. (But then it did have the benefit of being grown for 5 months longer than the others.)

Will I do it again this year? Yes, absolutely. In fact, I've already selected some Porcelain Garlic which hails from the Highlands of Scotland (via Waitrose) and will plant those alongside my London/Spanish cloves - but will also be choosing some commercial bulbs to pitch against them for comparison.

P.S. I'm sure you all know of the massively diverse health benefits of eating garlic but did you know that recent research from the University of East London reveals that garlic may be effective against the superbug MRSA?

A-Foraging we will go…

2010-10-11T12:38:00.026+01:00

::Book cover image from Amazon::

What bliss, I've actually won a giveaway! I can't begin to tell how thrilled I was yesterday morning to learn that my name was plucked from the wellie boot as the lucky recipient of this book: Collins Gem - Food For Free (The last prize I won was a Cliff Richard single from a packet of Smiths Crisps when I was 8. This one's been a long time coming.) The book was given away by Damien who writes over on Two Chances Veg Plot and is a very active member of the UK Veg Gardeners network as well as introducing his young family to the delights of foraging earlier this autumn.

I love the idea of wild food from nature. Wonderful word, foraging. When applied to people, rather than - in its original usage - animals, what a fine concept this is for 21st century self-sufficient(ish) living and becoming reconnected to the earth around us. It's old Middle English used from the 14th century to refer to cattle wandering the land, grazing for fodder or food – forage being both (verb) the act of searching and (noun) the food itself. Obviously I've been in touch with my Inner Cow for some time as I love to munch as I walk.

It would be somewhat impractical to totally embrace hedgerow eating but I feel such a townie by having no idea what I'm looking at when out on the Heath or further afield in the countryside or coast. I'm in awe of people who return from a walk with armfuls of elderberries, sloes, rose hips and wild mushrooms. This book, I'm hoping, will help me to swell their ranks. In my Cornish childhood, my father would take all four of us out walking the airfields in the early morning mists to gather large field mushrooms for breakfast - an awesome experience, akin to treasure hunting, and such fun. Expeditions like this and other nature walks full of shared knowledge were, I'm sure, partly responsible for a lifelong love of being outdoors and fostered a healthy sense of curiosity and adventure.

Children on our estate go mad for the bramble berries that grow over from the railway lines and rush to pick up nuts and berries outdoors ("Can I eat this?"). Now, at last, I'll be able to say with more certainty, Ye-ess or, more probably, No!

Expect more posts about my foraged finds - I did see some very promising red berries on the Heath just the other day! (Although those might end up wired into christmas decorations.)

P.S. If you haven't already entered the DRAW I started in this post, to win a free copy of 'Decorating Pumpkins and Gourds', there's still time (one week to go!) - and, in case you're wondering, yes I'll post anywhere in the world!

Sunshine and soft fruits…

2010-10-01T13:26:00.000+01:00

~ Carrots, leeks, courgettes, tagetes, cabbage, runner beans, tomatoes ~

:: The Regent's Park Allotment::

Being of a very curious nature, I do love a good nosey around other gardens and allotments. I find inspiration everywhere: the planting, the colours, the layout, clever use of discarded items… So, it was with a carefree heart that I pedalled off last Saturday to a half-day training in the Regent's Park allotment run by Capital Growth and Capel Manor College. The sun was shining as I cycled through the park, a highly enjoyable but somewhat rebellious act due to it being Not Allowed. (Why is that, I wonder? Children who won't walk any distance will often cycle happily, thereby allowing families to embrace the Great Outdoors together.)

But I digress… my hopes and expectations for the day were fully met: an excellent and comprehensive training in Growing and Preserving Soft Fruits was provided by Tom from City Leaf (with handouts, which was lucky as I would never have remembered it all). In three short hours we covered the four Ps (Planting, Pruning, Propagation and Preserving) in relation to a range of soft fruits: gooseberries, red/white currants vs blackcurrants, strawberries, blackberries, blueberries and raspberries. Whew - feeling hungry yet? As if that wasn't enough, we also briefly looked at ways of training fruit, veering off into the realms of cordoned and espaliered apples.

~ Garden of Eden? ~

I must admit my motivation for going was to get access to an Idiot's Guide to Growing Raspberries as our canes didn't do well this year. Poor little things. I now know that this is due to a combination of not planting soon enough (nor heeling in), not preparing the site well beforehand (it was nearly Christmas and we were desperate), not giving them enough space and also the poor plants being choked by weeds from a neighbouring patch. We'd literally plonked them into the soil in a spare corner of Leigh's allotment as the Veg Patch was not ready for them. See? Loads of info. I'm going to replace the canes and, this time, lavish care and attention on them.

We also looked at successfully growing grapes in an urban environment (apparently London is now warm enough for this, which is great news). Their grapes looked luscious:

And in anticipation of the wonderful harvest we'll all have next year, and in case any of it actually reaches our kitchens (mine will all be eaten as it ripens by the children), our group was introduced to preserving your soft fruit harvest by a local guest speaker; a wonderful woman who brought along some of her produce and made it sound so easy. She scotched several myths: no, she doesn't use special preserving sugar (juice of a lemon will serve instead, if needed), blackberries do not set well on their own (throw in a Bramley) and the original jam jar lids are just as good as the cellophane/rubber band option, if properly cleaned. Mantra: Cleanliness is all when preserving!

I spotted this wonderful 1970s cookbook (Readers Digest, I think) on the table at the end. It caught my eye, set against the jars of chutney and melons grown in the allotment. Yes! Melons are possible in the UK - we had some of these fruits during the break. (Delish.) The allotment has an open aspect, sheltered by fencing on the North and East sides, with the melon vines planted at the southern end.

Elsewhere, other vegetables were all still flourishing and ripening (the carrots! the rhubarb! the beans! giant tomatoes!). You'll recognise the asparagus in the above photo - a huge bed of it, with ripening berries. The volunteer gardeners try to nip them off when they turn red and before they burst and scatter the seeds. Bare patches in the beds were explained by the recent harvesting of the butternut squash which was set to one side in baskets - there was an open day 'Harvest Cook Off' the following day (at least I hope so as the weather had turned wet by then).

The entire allotment was full of inspiration, if excessively tidy (but then they are on permanent view to the public). Companion planting abounded: Basil and cabbages, crimson nasturtiums under the runner beans and around the rhubarb, and bright orange tagetes were planted (and interplanted) everywhere - around tomatoes, apples, beans, herbs - and doing a fantastic job of bringing in the bees.

But I especially l-o-v-e-d the use of recycling: peppers, tomatoes and herbs grew in large empty white Italian tomato cans, an old Royal Parks watering can had been planted with herbs, and … the best bit for me … the fibreglass poles from a defunct tent used to hold up netting. I'm SO pinching that idea!

There, I think I've rambled on long enough. It's worth a visit if you find yourself near Regents Park and also very handy the Cow and Coffee Bean Café. (Here's the Google map link). I took far too many photographs and am now making a Flickr page so, once the link is up, pop over there if you want to see more!

Gourdness! Giveaway and pumpkin carving

2010-09-20T12:57:00.009+01:00

Last year I recall resisting the onset of Autumn and savouring the last days of summer but, this morning, I'm positively excited about the forthcoming Pumpkin Season for I have learned of an exciting competition looming…

A chance conversation yesterday revealed that Fortnum & Mason, renowned London-based purveyors of luxury food hampers and other delightful goodies, are holding their first Pumpkin Carving competition on October 29th. It's a Friday so, presumably, you can take your pumpkin home to show off on All Hallows Eve. There are fabulous prizes (Fortnum's broomstick anyone? Even better: a £1000 hamper, which would nicely sort out Christmas) and themed food such as witch's hair (aka - of course - candyfloss).

I've just spoken to them and been told that places are limited due to pumpkin display space (as of today 50 spaces still up for grabs), booking is essential but it's free! Not that I'm competitive or anything ~ahem~ but I'm definitely going! (It is open to adults as well as 5-18 yrs…)

Now this may all sound jolly frustrating to anyone living out of reach but I know that you're a creative lot and hope you'll be inspired to rise to the spirit of the event in your own communities. Personally, I'm going to be referring to a book which I bought last year: Decorating Pumpkins and Gourds written by my York Rise neighbour and fellow gardener, Deborah Schneebeli-Morrell and photographed by her husband, Heini.

Debbie is a phenomenal artist and her ideas in this book veer right away from the usual fare of grinning face pumpkins; she not only shows us beginners (in my case) how to carve designs such as Birds in a Bush, Maids in a Row or the Hansel and Gretal house, but also tells us the correct tools to use. I absolutely lOvE the lantern pumpkins shown in the above photos. Her love of gardening shines through when we're taught how to make bird feeders out of squash (an easy project for children) and also which are the best - and easiest - varieties to grow. On a practical level, Debbie advises what to do with different squashes (acorn squashes, for example, are difficult to hollow out but can be carved and displayed before being roasted into a platter of patterned veg). Excellent illustrations and instructions throughout make this all very achievable and, although it's not mentioned, it's best to keep the children's involvement to scooping out the flesh rather than knife wielding!

Giveaway!

Cico Books have very kindly offered to send me a copy of Decorating Pumpkins and Gourds as a !giveaway! for my readers. I'll also ask the author to sign it. Just leave a comment before 15th October (should then give you enough time to get carving before Hallowe'en) and I'll randomly pick a winner. (Please also say if you don't want the book.)

The Cheerfulness of Chard:

2010-09-19T14:23:00.000+01:00

Isn't this fabulous?! First year that I've grown chard - and I've yet to actually eat any of it - but those colours are a real show-stopper on the Veg Patch. Love it!

(Note to self: grow it in a higher bed next time to better display the stems!)

In case of interest: Bright Lights Chard, Johnsons seeds, sown into recycled council compost in raised beds, open aspect but shaded early pm onwards. Well watered by the weather.

From Soil to Sail:

2010-09-16T20:05:00.003+01:00

Hello again, time's zipping by, we're nearly into Autumn and I'm still catching up with myself… There seems to be so much to pack into each day (not least of which is to get my potatoes dug up!). As a result, I seem to have fallen out of the habit of popping in here to say hello which feels odd because, in my head, I've got lots to tell: trips to the seaside, apple scrumping, a street fair, hedgerow-jam making, allotment-soup making, books to review (three!), autumn progress in the Veg Patch and new bedtime reading: seed catalogues for 2011…mmm, lovely! So, whew.

The thing that has taken a goodly chunk of time is the street fair which we had in our little corner of London. I'd had a fancy to make fresh apple juice on the day (using a traditional press) and put my hand up to help in order to ensure that the event was actually going to happen. Doing the pressing was quite a learning curve so deserves a later post all to itself! In among all of this frenzied activity, what with the end of the summer hols looming, I also decided to make a dash for the seaside to spend a few days on the south Hampshire coast with my parents. (Another reason for the silence here … I was beachcombing elsewhere!)

Lovely, isn't it? I never tire of this view of the Solent (taken from the little cross-harbour ferry): Old Portsmouth on the left and, just out of view, sailing boats making their way in or out of harbour. Look in the other direction and you see Portsmouth Harbour, ferries waiting to sail for the Isle of Wight and, in the historic dockyard, the masts of Nelson's HMS Victory and modern ships of the Royal Navy. All very busy and nautical.

For me, though, the highlights of a shore-side break-away are the long walks on the beach, picking up driftwood and shells (pebbly beaches are so interesting).

…and, at this time of year, collecting hedgerow blackberries (loads of them on the seafront common land). Turning the corner from my parents' house, a short walk leads to the common …

… with the Isle of Wight clearly seen on a good day. Wow, looks likes there's no sea at all between the mainland and island! (Although, I think there's probably a good couple of miles of Solent to swim before you get over to the Island, here reaching Ryde.)

Normally we walk along the shoreline towards the sailing club and the ice-cream café - yes, what bliss! New Forest ice-cream, yum yum, served with a sea breeze - or a cup of tea if the weather is chillier. This time, we walked towards the scrubbier part of the common, for a change, where there were plentiful berries to be picked and, presumably from a discarded apple core, a heavily laden apple tree, ripe for the scrumping! A big trugful of nature's harvest - and just in good time for my apple pressing venture!