It’s true…the last few days have seen a definite shift - with a few light frosts in the early mornings and a later setting of the sun behind Big Hill: ‘tis a season on the brink of expansion. And how I love the promise it holds!
That said, I’m also panic stricken at not being ready…not quite yet! How typical…it happens every year as the chill seemingly lulls us into a…not quite yet attitude for the big pruning of the herbaceous plants, and then all of a sudden it must be done in a rush! But more on that below.
This week, there’ll be no orange or yellow - promise! How funny it is that some peeps do have a real aversion to those colours. Of course there are other pretties here but in our climate, they’re not the main event at this time of year. There are some hellebores in hiding and the winter flowering honeysuckle is awash with tiny, scented cream flowers. The hydrangeas threw some very late blooms as autumn set in and I’ve been surprised at their holding on throughout the winter months.
How tempted I’ve been to cut and bring them inside, but ‘til now I’ve let them be…nestled as they are into the mass of fast decaying, dried-out flower heads of the main flush that surround them. But as with many shrubs in the garden now, there are signs of bud-swell and once that begins, there’s no holding back.
This weekend, I’ll prune the hydrangeas! People so often ask me when I do this and I do it late in the season - suffering the untidy habit of spent flowers ‘til the very end as I feel they give some protection to the stems below during the cold months. So leave them I do ‘til I can bare looking at them no longer, which generally coincides with pairs of leaf buds burgeoning on the stems and that moment is now. It’s a very rare thing, to have these lovely heads amidst the brown - a couple are quite substantial in size, and all a-speckle to alleviate the otherwise ugly scene!
I’ll be cutting to just above a good pair of buds, on an angle and taking out any dead wood, in anticipation of a flush of early summer beauty!
Whilst the images here seem to be all prettily smudged in pink, and as I’ve been promising you the recipe for Rhubarb Crumble for ever so long (and I fully intend to enjoy some of that spiced deliciousness this weekend), I think it’s about time I shared it with you!
RHUBARB CRUMBLE (deconstructed Rhubarb Crumble, as Delicious called it!)
Ingredients
Fruit
12 stems *rhubarb: cut off leaves and base of stalk, wash and dry (don’t be put off if you don’t have 12 stems…it’s just a guide and you can do it with whatever you have on hand - many, many more…or less!)
1 orange
2 star anise
6 cardamom pods
2 tablespoons rapadura sugar
optional: I sometimes sprinkle in some cinnamon and/or grated nutmeg too - there’s no need to be too precise about the measurements - this is a pinch of this and that kind of recipe
Crumble
40g unsalted butter, softened
70g plain flour (I use spelt)
40g caster sugar
25g ground almonds (almond meal)
15g flaked almonds
(I just double the quantity if I have a big group)
Method
Pre-heat oven to 190C
Cut the leaves from the stems of rhubarb and also the base of the stalks (remember rhubarb leaves are poisonous and so are not to be consumed - don’t give them to the chooks but you can safely put them into the compost!
Wash, pat dry, cut into short lengths and pop into a baking tray
Zest or grate the skin of the orange and add to the rhubarb
Scatter over the rapadura, star anise, cardamom, and anything else you fancy!
Squeeze the orange and pour the juice over the fruit
Give everything a good stir and bake in the oven for about 15 minutes…until the rhubarb ‘gives’ when you prod it with the back of a spoon
Meanwhile mix the flour, sugar and ground almonds in a bowl
With your fingertips, rub the butter into the dry ingredients ‘til it forms a light breadcrumb mixture
Scatter on a baking tray and bake for 5 minutes or so, then pull out of the oven, give it a good shake or a bit of a stir and add the flaked almonds.
Return to the oven for another 5 minutes or so ‘til golden brown: stand at the oven door and do not take your eyes off the crumble - the flaked almonds in particular, are quick to catch and burn!
To serve: spoon rhubarb onto a plate / bowl and sprinkle with as much crumble mix as you like!
Delicious were correct to call it deconstructed! Looking at the picture…I usually toast the mix a bit more than it looks to be here (think I didn’t want to risk burning it!). I’m usually inclined to make the crumble the day before, then pop it into a jar in the fridge; and it toasts up a bit more when I put it back into the oven just before I serve! You can also bake the rhubarb in advance, so it makes for an ideal dessert to have ready at the drop of a hat. It all keeps perfectly well for a week in the fridge too, as separate components, which is terrific for us as leftovers…and even for breakfast!
I often serve it with a good dollop of home made ice cream…and that, is a recipe I’ll get to! Cos it’s home-made, hand-made and is the most simple thing you can imagine!
I’ll add this Rhubarb Crumble to the recipe index I published a couple of weeks ago as there’s a place holder there for it, and then I’ll begin compiling a new index for recipes as we move into the next season, so we can all keep a track.
This weekend I also fully intend to begin pruning the roses. Again…I leave them ‘til late in the day. I find it best to clear the surrounding plants first so the roses are free of encumbrance and I can see just what I’m doing. Each shrub has its own character and habit - even specimens of the same variety, and the cut of each and every branch must be weighed up. Which makes the task sound more onerous than it is…it’s one I thoroughly enjoy and once the wrangling of a rosebush begins, the actions are swift. There’ll not be much left of this one above once I swing into action…whilst always looking for that outward facing ‘eye’!
I’ll begin with the roses in the garden (as opposed to those in the field, which I’ll soon begin to tell you about), as it’s time to begin the process of adding mulch and compost to the garden beds and I don’t want to be stepping over freshly bedded-in plants.
Over the last weeks, Thalia has been following my plan, breaking the back of much of the herbaceous pruning work. Now, it’s time for me to make a second pass, to tweak and refine. I’m inclined to go in harder with some plants, so I’ll do some hands and knees work this weekend too.
To be honest, I think the whole looks pretty ordinary just now. We must go through this stage each year though, and to my eye, the soil is crying out for rehabilitation. In the ornamental beds I do fertilise…in that I’ll toss around some blood and bone, and chook poo pellets of some kind, before loading in a good layer of compost. This next phase will be quite drawn out - watering before fertiliser goes on, then after to water it in - in an ideal world, there will be a shower of rain to aid the process! Watering will set off the breaking down of those additions and also ensure their application does’t shock the plants (note I don’t ever do this in the kitchen garden). I may leave it alone then for a week or more (depending on the weather and other jobs). I like to leave it all alone between inputs - allowing crisp days and any breeze to sweep through the ornamental beds before we load them up and tuck them in for the season ahead. As we’re humid here during the summer months, clearing out any remnant detritus is important for the health of the plants. We might not get around to adding compost for another week yet…and after that the mulch to complete the process - suppressing weed activity, encouraging microbial organisms below and helping to maintain that all-important moisture, as the days warm up. I won’t decide what happens when, ‘til I feel the timing is right: as with all the gardening here, the sequence unfolds in tandem with when I feel the time is right.
I sure have my work cut out this weekend! And how my mind and body will enjoy some days away from the desk!
While the ornamental garden may be in the doldrums, the kitchen garden is simply pumping! The action there is stupendous, the bounty a joy to behold and to pick from each day. At this time of the season, there’s little I need to do, save tying the peas which, incidentally…are trickling in. Pea munching season has officially begun! And oh those broad bean tips…for the second week in a row I’ve gently wilted seven in a pan (in a little olive oil) and they are simply sublime. The full list of ‘eating’ is, once again, noted below.
Here and there, a rocket stem is in flower, which means the next opportunity for seed collection will…some weeks on from now, be such that I can stow some fresh seed away for next autumn (thereby replenishing my seed bank) and also, with an eye to catching the seasonal cusp, perhaps even get a rocket sowing underway before the real heat sets in.
How I love the complexity of what may look, at just a glance, to be such a simple, or even weedy stem. Just this one, will provide pollen for bees, the wild taste of rocket for me should I dare to pluck one flower and all the seeds a future crop will need.
There are poppies dancing all around the kitchen garden. Not in the quantities I once encouraged - I worry too much these days at the propensity at which their seed is likely to spread, so pull out any that look to be of an inferior size and allow only those with a good size of head to flourish. This way, I can be sure to bag their seed pods as they develop, saving enough for the next round and also enough to scatter into dishes…which I’ll show you when the time comes!
In the meantime, how the bees love these poppy cups and I often find three or four buzzing around per flower. These are the ones I call ‘kitchen garden poppies’ and are not the enormous peony poppies that are currently growing on under the fig trees in the orchard. But I do love these ones, with their deep amethyst blotches and exquisite arrangement of stamens around that central ovary that will develop into a seed pod.
The Kohl rabi are swelling and I’m not going to give you any kind of clever recipe! Although they’re delicious raw, when quite small, thinly sliced and perhaps drizzled with olive oil and a squeeze of lemon juice; from time to time I steam them; and I’ve also made them à la dauphinoise as once encouraged by a German visitor. Holly Davis will tell me to pickle them…I know. But truly? I grow them for their striking form and colour! As they plump, they develop a downy coating, and if pulled as an entire specimen - roots and all, they make for an intriguing specimen to view! I’ve used them in place of flower arrangements (perhaps a bit extreme but fun nonetheless) and you never know when I might need to do just that, so I’ll most probably allow them to grow on for now in the garden, interspersed as they are between the crinkly, dull, blue/grey leaves of Cavolo nero, because I find the combination a lovely one to behold.
As ever, you will glean by this post that I hold this garden, a garden, any garden, to be a thing of purpose. Alongside balancing buildings and landscape, playing refuge to people, animals, insects and buffering climatic conditions; at times a garden is something to view, for the pure pleasure of it; at others though it’s something at which to work, which in itself brings good exercise to the gardener as well as a sense of accomplishment and achievement. Within both these aspects, there is mental stimulation as well as meditation to be had. The gardener fluxes between them all….and all in a day’s work.
Oh but there is frustration too and I’ve truly had it with these guys…not that there’s anything I can do about it. They are causing havoc and destruction and how I wish they’d move on. Screeching and squawking, dive-bombing and flying in at low-range, they break branches, gnaw on timber, attack fruit (though never bother to eat it) alongside myriad other annoyances. They’re much worse than usual and the flock is twice the size. We’re feeling inclined to believe it’s a case of gang warfare…not that I’m any kind of expert but I’m beginning to think their antics may be a case of showing off to each other to decide upon a new leader. A couple of months ago, there was a poor old scrawny chap on the ground, playing with a mandarin. I didn’t have the heart to shoo him off, he looked sad. Since then we’ve noted parts - a wing or two, which is most unusual - and we wonder if they’re attacking each other? Whatever’s going on, it’s ugly and they seem to be fighting it out in our realm…uggghhh….
Many years ago I asked an Indigenous elder about the behaviour of these notorious birds and he told me a story…I have no way of vouching for it but he said that in times past, when the flocks became too large, one would be caught and pinned to a tree. When the flock came to its rescue, the nets that had already been put in place would be hauled into action, thereby capturing as many birds as possible. The one that had been captured and pinned, would then be freed. I really don’t like to think about what happened to the flock, but can’t help wondering if our protecting them in such large numbers is out of whack with the environment? In the same way our approach to allowing native bush to flourish at scale without regular cool burns leads to out of control bushfires. Again, I’m no expert, but so much information has come to light these last years…my feeling is that we ought to listen to those who know.
I sowed my tomato seeds into punnet cells and now they’re sitting covered, on a heat mat. All I can do now is cross my fingers for germination! Which is when the next phase will begin.
Remember last week I said I’d pulled the last of the summer’s tomato plants the weekend before and hung the last fruit in the sun? To my surprise and delight…another week on and they’re almost ready for the oven! So now you can see there really isn’t a day in the year when tomatoes don’t feature here in some way or another!
On Sunday, Larry, Clemmie and I had a big working bee…on the opposite side of the creek, in an open patch we’ve been meaning to plant for a long time. A few weeks ago, Clemmie and I went to our local shire council nursery, where the lovely Hannah is an enthusiastic repository of information and we collected a bundle of native plants relative to that exposed patch of ground. Notes in hand, bundles of wire cylinders borrowed from the kitchen garden, a ute load of compost, mulch, buckets and tools, we got to it. It was a full day’s work and a satisfying one. There’s always something to do here…as much beyond the garden as in it!
At this time of year, even if you’re not growing yourself, you should certainly be eating well…for this is a time of abundance. Your local farmer’s market should have everything I have in my trug above (well…maybe not the broad bean tips!) and you should also be able to find everything that’s listed below. I really hope that even if you’re not gardening…the notes I’m making here will give you a clue as to what’s truly in season…especially if you’re in this neck of the woods!
I’ll look forward to catching you at the next post!
With warmest wishes
Mickey x
Productive garden notes:
Eating from the garden:
Navel oranges, mandarins (going), Lisbon lemons, rhubarb; tomatoes (going!), Jerusalem artichoke, parsnip. Leaves of all kinds - spinach, kale - cavolo nero (Red Russian is still growing on), leeks, lettuce, radicchio, rocket, red elk mustard leaf, warrigal greens. Cauliflower, broccoli, fennel bulbs, radish. Peas (new) and broad bean tips - both morsels of pure delight! I still haven’t pulled the Savoy Cabbage! Fennel fronds, parsley, mint, rosemary, thyme, chives, coriander, nasturtium and calendula petals, borage flowers.
Going / gone: Meyer lemons, tomatoes
Seed saving: Cima di rapa (from the seed flinging effort in February…it’s ripe now and I’ll pop some of it straight back into the ground) - didn’t do it last weekend!
Sowing: tomatoes! Quick…before it’s too late! Mine are in and I have everything crossed. If you want to grow aubergines, capsicums and chillies from seed, then now is the time to sow them too.
Planting: none although I’d like to get some lettuce seedlings but will have to wait for the next market. That said I’ve noted a few popping up from seed in odd places so I might do some transplanting!
Ornamental garden notes:
Picking for the house: winter honeysuckle although it doesn’t last; there was a lovely Solandra trumpet last week and I have my eye on a rhubarb flower that’s shot up. Time to pick a bunch of Dentata lavender.
Perfumes and aromas: orange…the navel oranges exude the perfume of sunshine, whilst the intoxicating scent of both osmanthus and winter-flowering honeysuckle are spilling from one particular sheltered corner at the old stables: same as a few weeks ago! Oh and the Daphne in a courtyard pot is flowering and divine! Same as last week.
Pruning and other: Thalia has completed a lot of pruning in the Borders, and this week also finished where I’d begun the Perovskia in the Barn Garden but had left the silvered spires for momentary interest. I asked her to give a severe cut to the clumps of Erigeron daisy outside the Barn - I planted those when we restored that building 32 years ago and a few times a year, they get a very severe haircut to keep them in check. She’s weeded and pulled the runts from the peony poppies under the figs and also…the boring job of applying bindii and broad leaf weed spray to the lawns (which goes nowhere near anything edible). If we don’t do this…like everyone across the land…there’d be no bare feet on summer’s grass. Last weekend I pruned the first of two Navels from where I’ve taken most of the oranges - it’s in much better shape now and although I had to do it, I hope I haven’t deprived myself of the blossom I’ll need for this year’s distillation! I also dealt with the big mess of honeysuckle that blew off the cubby house roof in one of those horrendous gusts a few weeks ago while we were away…years worth of growth, it was a sad job but nothing could be done about it…I kept some lovely long lengths to begin tying-up all over again…such is the life of a garden.
And some may say Winter is a quiet time in the garden, not! Unfortunately my hours of being in the garden have well passed but thankfully my husband is still fit enough to do most of the work. The border of Liriopes were cut back this week, the roses and the weeping cherries were done a couple of weeks ago. I’m thinking we need to make a change and remove the Liriopes and find something about the same size that doesn’t need pruning as this year he found it a lot harder to do. Maybe it will an extra job for our tree trimmer next year? Do you have any suggestions? Thank you for sharing your recipe this week and for another enjoyable read. And by the way, I meant to mention last week about your brilliant and colourful Aloe plant. There are a couple of houses nearby to us who have them in their gardens, I wonder if they realise how big they can get?