The daily ritual of Clementine-o'clock...
it must be winter!
The afternoons draw in so quickly now - become absorbed in a task and before you know it, the dark is encroaching and a mad scramble ensues: collect kindling for the fire, bring in the logs, pick the veg, close the gates, put the kettle on…it’s Clementine-o’clock!
Other days one gets winter right. Timed properly and paced with forethought, those ones are more settled, when you know from the off that a desk day awaits and so…perhaps a morning fire is set and lit, which to this day feels like some kind of wild, indulgent luxury (I am married to a Scot!). But which is the more extravagant? Wasting electricity on heating…or burning logs?
The slow combustion fire in the kitchen creates a cosy glow and takes the chill off the air without that feeling of suffocation that ‘heating’ brings. Collecting kindling in the morning is an oddity, which creates a point of difference to the daily routine (although I collect kindling by-the-by on every outside foray anyway, just in case we should run out - squirrel mentality!). We’ve never quite mastered the knack of keeping the fire going overnight…sometimes, with a good log before going to bed, but it’s rare there’s still life enough to re-ignite with a blow from the bellows on rising. I’ve lived in hope for a long time that someone might think to put another log on the fire when he gets up in the early mornings (which he usually does before me, especially in the winter!) but no…that request falls on deaf ears! We’re meant to be more tough - put on another layer, socks, sit in a puffa jacket with scarf and gloves as if embarking on an arctic expedition and shiver! So when he’s not looking…I gather my sticks and little pieces of wood, I twist pieces of newspaper and bring in the logs. ‘Oooh it’s lovely and warm in here’ says he, when he ventures to the kitchen to make his mid-morning cup of coffee. Well….yes! Of course it’s he who replenishes the log pile on the verandah each weekend which is a task…and I’m very grateful indeed. He brings the big ones, I bring the small - like everything here, it’s a joint effort. But how I love my daytime winter fires!
But I digress, on getting the routine of winter days just right. The fire is one thing, to cosy my workspace, but those languid summer evenings of picking in the kitchen garden are long gone! A steely chill descends as soon as the sun drops behind Big Hill for the day, which right now, is too early for my liking; so rather than pick in that icy light (which happens more often than not) I try to do my evening round a bit earlier - afterall I can go back to my desk in the fading light and continue to work for hours, so why not enjoy those golden moments?
For golden they truly are! Breathtaking…as the afternoon hours tick on, the garden basks in all the buttery, sunshine glory…each leaf, flower and seed pod filling up while it can, to store that energy deep within its cells, to digest and absorb it, to use as defence throughout the coming night.
There’s been a bounty to collect this week on my daily round! How surprised I was to find this cauliflower…truly I just wasn’t expecting to see one fully formed quite so soon! It seems only yesterday I was writing to you about successional sowing, with the tiny, newly planted brassicas tucked up under net in their bed. But already we’re eating our way through those plants that have matured first, the ones first sown, of broccoli and kale and now cauliflower. We’re yet to see a frost and still there are white cabbage moths at play. Daily, I pick fat green caterpillars that have gorged all night on brassica leaves. I don’t mind if they’re munching on the leaves of caulies or broccoli, but I do when they choose my precious leaves of Tuscan black kale over those other two; because kale leaves add oh so much more flavour and substance to everything we eat…and although I’m picking armloads of chard and spinach every day, I crave seeing the darker colour of cavolo nero wilted into all our dishes…with that distinctive taste that anchors us to the season.
Last week I mentioned Cima di Rapa in the notes at the bottom. An Italian form of sprouting broccoli whose taste is more…well, perhaps an acquired one (I’m not sure if metallic is the right description) and it’s only me in the family who seems to have acquired it! It’s a brassica about which I was unaware ‘til many years ago now, I invited Stefano Manfredi to give a cooking workshop here (which was hugely exciting!) and he asked if I might grow some for us to pick on the day! No stress then…! Off I went to source some seed and duly sowed it, crossed my fingers, said a prayer and waited. To my amazement, it actually did its thing on time and with Stefano, the class picked a huge basket full to incorporate into the class and lunch menu (needless to say every morsel was beyond delicious…and Stefano is such a delight…I remember he arrived at 6am and was happily prepping away on his own in the little Dairy kitchen with the first rays of sunshine spilling in through the fly screen and lighting up that black and white checkered floorspace with its whitewashed walls and old rails…perfectly content).
Ever since that season, I’ve grown Cima di Rapa, whether anyone else likes it or not! I actually prefer the little side shoots - the tiny ones it bears as the main stems come into flower. And flower they do, profusely. At this time of year, fodder for the bees can be scant, so anything that flowers is a bonus for them. It’s part of the reason I do that seed-tossing exercise at regular intervals. You will recall I did this one with my kitchen gardening class at the end of February and whilst we’ve eaten rather well from that little plot (that I’ve shown you images of from time to time since), now it’s food for the bees. All meadow-like in appearance, it makes me smile and of course, it’s now well and truly on its way towards seed production again. As I write, another generation is swelling on the stems. Another cycle almost complete. Which means I’ll have no hesitation in tossing all the remaining seed I have stored into the ground at the first opportunity - to clear some space, saying goodbye to the old and ready to welcome in the new as soon as it’s ripe.
Last weekend I achieved a lot in the garden…although the weekend got off to a most unexpected start! As I mentioned above (event days aside) Larry is usually inclined to get up before me…he’s always been a super-early riser. Last Saturday though, with a three-day weekend, there was less pressure to rush and he opened the curtains as it was already 7 before he sauntered off to the kitchen. I enjoyed the view from my pillow - a rare, rare thing and one that I do so love…the trunk of the lemon-scented gum through the window to the right, with its elongated ‘face’ (there’s such a very clear pair of droopy eyes, nose and mouth from this angle that I first noticed years ago and I enjoy seeking it out on these less rushed days…those features don’t seem to be apparent from any other angle!); the big tropical leaves of the Strelitzia niccolai filling the window straight ahead and to the left, the skeletal form of the Persimmon tree in the near distance, the drystone wall, the embossed grey leaves of the Agave americana. As my eyes moved slowly from right to left, taking in this enchantment, all of a sudden they registered something large…something out of place, something that should not be there and not one something but FIVE! Five pairs of eyes standing on the Persimmon lawn above the drystone wall staring at the house as if they had an order to view! Five hefty cows…IN THE GARDEN!!!!
Well…I leapt out of bed like a rocket! Of course it was freeeeezing but I raced to the kitchen in my bare feet…’the cows are in the garden…OUR cows are in the garden’. Larry didn’t quite register it at first! Anyway, you can imagine the mayhem that followed! I couldn’t get dressed fast enough and Larry had shot out the door! By the time I got rugged up he’d managed to encourage them down the drive and back to the paddock from whence they came - bravo. But…good grief how long had they been loose on their adventure? It didn’t take long to discover they had had a good wander around…everywhere! We had to laugh…after! Fortunately there was no great damage done, whereas it could have been horrendous. Oh but they really had been everywhere…although no area of grass is without a handful of divots, they seemed to have trodden in only one actual garden bed (aside from the newly sown bed of onions which they managed to trash). They’d been through the Hayshed and the Loggia (as any garden visitor might do!). At some point the delightful task of picking gravel out of cowpats will need to be undertaken…but we’re thinking it will be a more easy task once those cowpats are dry!
But there was no time to dawdle! With temporary repairs made to the gate they’d pushed over (there’s a section of fence that seems to have slipped in the very wet ground)…there was gardening to do!
Well into the winter season, we’ve already eaten our way through a good number of those first plantings and so replenishment was required. I cut a good basket of lettuces whose outer leaves we’ve been eating for weeks on end and with only their hearts left, it was time to refresh.
I planted two new rows of lettuce, just offset from the spent ones, adding a good dusting of blood and bone to each hole and a generous handful of our compost. I extended the row of radicchio and completed the row of leeks. I planted two rows of fennel under the wire tunnel (already we’ve eaten the first dozen sown!). And I began a couple of new wire ‘compost cylinders’, just offset from the previous ones. I know I’ve said it before, but I am finding this ‘cylinder composting’ thing to be a real boon! I’ve been practicing this method long enough now to know it’s doing good, as once again on digging a little hole for a lettuce seedling in the exact spot from where I’d just moved on a cylinder (the last of its contents all but broken down - so I moved the cylinder, picked up the very last browned off material that was on the bottom and flung that into the new designated spot) I was delighted to find the soil simply teeming with activity. If there’s activity I can clearly see, just imagine the microbial activity that I can’t?
Then off I went down the back, to make use of that space now vacated by all but one of last season’s tomatoes…the famous San Marzano! A short row of fennel, the same of radicchio, one of cavolo nero and one of lettuce. When the tom comes out I’ll add another row of something to the centre (perhaps those Australian Yellow Leaf lettuces that are finally germinating on the bench) and…on the next designated seed-sowing day I’ll pop pea seeds at the base of each upright of those short tunnels. In this way, the successional sowing continues, although the big rotation is well done.
In the next section to the right, I began a new row of leeks, beginning at the back - the south and I’ll sow some more in a couple of weeks to complete that row towards the north.
I picked a big, squeaky bunch of coloured chard to take to a friend and a huge basket of Warrigal greens. Whilst we eat loads of the former, we eat less of the latter, but I do like knowing they’re there as back-up. I did however, pick a vast quantity from one that had got away! Self-sown, I’d let it romp through the raspberry bed that didn’t perform well last year. In fact…I’m beginning to think, after all these years of perseverance, that maybe it’s silly to bother at all and yet…for the pure joy of eating even one plump raspberry warmed in the sun? And we do get many more than one…just not bucket loads!
Give Warrigal greens an inch and…if they’re happy, they’ll take a mile! And they’re inclined to take themselves to where they’re happy…I certainly didn’t sow them in the raspberry cage! So once I took all the good leaves, I pulled them out as I know I can make much better use of this one caged bed! As for the weight of that barrow…good heavens! It will release a good deal of moisture into the compost heap as it breaks down, that’s for sure! I think those stems must have absorbed half the recent rainfall we’ve enjoyed! By the way…be sure to always blanch Warrigal greens before you eat them, to remove the oxalates they contain.
From there I decided the pumpkin vine had done its thing and cut off the last of the fruit to sit on the wall…some large, some small, all of them ornamental if not all of them will make for good eating. There was another load of ‘vine’ for the compost.
As a bit of light relief, some seed-heads had been beckoning. Collecting seed is always a question of waiting ‘til it’s ripe, whilst gathering before it spills. I don’t often bother to collect Nicotiana sylvestris as it’s well-established in the pockets where I’m happy for it to grow and has inevitably spilled its seed ‘locally’ (ie around its feet) already. But a few times recently peeps have asked for seed, so I thought I’d pop some into a jar to have on hand before pulling out the last of the (now ratty looking) plants. On the other hand, how I love those pink zinnias that were frolicking under the Speckled Cranberry beans in the late summer! They don’t necessarily pop up so easily of their own accord, so I’ve snipped some heads and popped them into their own jar too.
I boiled a couple of kettles of water to kill red/purple oxalis that I’d noticed during the course of my tasks (the only way to kill that invasive, sprawling weed) and did odd little jobs, like checking the broad beans are all growing inside, rather than outside their enclosures. They’re always but always making a bid to escape and it’s vital to catch them early on in the act, as their hollow stems will only snap if you should attempt to bend them back inside once they’re out.
Thyme…for a a job or two closer to the house! On the corner where the ‘Arc’ and ‘Barn’ gardens meet, there’s a collection of little thyme bushes. They’ve been there for years…every now and then one dies, but is soon replaced by a self-sown contender. I thought to take this as a good example for how I like to tackle plants that require pruning at this time of year. The image on the left has already had a ‘first pass’. They’d all become quite ‘leggy’ which is something thyme oughtn’t be allowed to do. To my way of thinking, that first pass is simply not enough. All those wispy threads…some alive, some not, are unsightly but what’s worse is that they are also preventing a literal breath of fresh air to pass through, and containing weak material which is likely to cause decay to the plant. So in I went with my secateurs…hard. There’s not much left now, save short, clean stems of tiny but healthy leaves. Ugly for now, sure…but the sun can get to the heart of the matter - the roots, which will thank me for allowing light to penetrate the soil and air to circulate through clean little branches. They’re all set for the next growth spurt.
In a similar vein, I began on the Perovskia atriplicifolia, Russian sage. It’s probably the plant I receive the most enquiries about of all. As a plant, it doesn’t always get a good rap and I understand why…it can be invasive. But equally, it’s easily pulled out and in our climate, it’s reliable. I know I’ve mentioned this plant already as this swathe to either side of the Barn Garden path has been in fine mauve flower for months and although past its best, minus its lavender hue, it’s still displaying a mesmerising silvery one in the late afternoon light. But now its days are numbered. I don’t want to lose this effect entirely, afterall, there’s not a great deal else to look at in that area just now! On the other hand, it’s now I begin to get that feeling that things look messy…rather than interesting in a wintry kind of way. That nagging feeling is just beginning to take hold!
The band of mid-height Perovskia is shading the plants behind that I’m trying so hard to get established. You see…I don’t think I’ve mentioned before, but we completely overhauled the Barn garden during covid. The original garden that had been so enchanting right up ‘til the last drought, took those punishing years badly. We lost the two beautiful thirty year old Malus ioensis plena in the lawn and the Juniper hedge never recovered from one of its regular prunings. The existing plants had all got too big and grown too close to the hedge, shading it from the sun and causing bare patches. All in all, in the thirty years since creating and delighting in every season’s blossom and beauty, we realised it needed a rethink.
I’ll be honest…I’d have rather liked the re-working to have gobbled up the entire lawn…but I knew I was already on a slippery slope…which is where this section of garden went wrong all those years ago…in that Larry always thinks a garden bed will equal too much work, whereas in fact, with the right plants, it can be precisely the opposite! Anyway, I thought I was doing well to gain over a couple of metres of depth, bringing the front of the bed into line with the old cubby house we’d erected (to give Clemmie somewhere to play, before there was any garden at all). This allowed the opportunity to move plants forward, making a gap between the ‘garden plants’ and ‘hedge’ for easier hedge-pruning access and to allow better air circulation.
But the new planting is taking its time to grow and amongst it are some new specimens I’ve not worked with before, so I’m still learning their habits. Amongst them is a Salvia africana lutea whose dense (unusual for a salvia) foliage I’m keeping quite tightly clipped in an attempt to make a substantial mound. Although its rusty apricot flowers are quite beautiful in the spring and align with the colours I’m keen to display here, it was primarily for the grey/green foliage I planted it. So, I gave it a little tip prune to encourage foliage density, then began on the Perovskia, going in low to the ground, to pairs of leaf buds. I’m going in from behind….in order to get sun to the roots of the Salvia and its rosey companion….the beautiful Abraham Darby (two of which I replaced at the time of the overhaul, so they are not yet established as their predecessors were) as quickly as possible. I’ll chip away at the Perovskia over the coming weeks, leaving the front row ‘til the last, so I can still enjoy the view of their spikes in the afternoon light from my desk, but clear the decks behind for the sake of their neighbours!
I picked some stems for the kitchen windowsill from the kitchen garden as I’d suggested I might - a rampant rhubarb stem - completely out of order - we do not want to encourage rhubarb flowers so off it was with it’s stalk! Some sprigs of tansy, still surprisingly in flower and some errant love-in-the-mist, Nigella, as well as a few roses from the Field. Also, for a vase, a big bunch of lavender - the Dentata / French variety I mentioned last week. It may not make the most romantic of displays, but at this time of year, it’s a welcome addition to the dressing table. As I picked stem after stem from the row atop the drive wall in that lovely afternoon sun, I cherished every minute…I am so often in a hurry, that although I pick for the kitchen every day, and cherish every minute then too, I rarely have time, to be honest, to pick for the bedroom…or at least to take the time to do so. I planted that lavender all those years ago so I could do just that…pick lovely flowers just for us, and it felt very spoiling to take the time to do so!
I also picked some rhubarb stems…tossed them into a roasting pan with rapadura, orange and spices, and we had rhubarb crumble with yoghurt for breakfast the next morning! The issue of Delicious is still current, where you will find the recipe…but I’ll share it here as soon as that issue has been superseded as Rhubarb Crumble is on repeat here at the moment (though not usually for breakfast!).
Which brings me back to Clementine-o’clock which it will shortly be again! How sweet those little orange fruit are! With a thin skin and only two or three pips, it’s just this week I’ve begun to pick one or two each afternoon, to enjoy those juicy segments with my 4.30’ish Earl Grey (a dash of milk, no sugar)!
It will be 34 years in September since we planted the Clementine sapling to coincide with Clemmie’s ‘blessing’ at the Church across the paddock. Her godparents did the deed and we’ve nurtured it ever since. For most years of her adult life, Clemmie’s not been here to enjoy the fruit, which she sorely misses. This year though, she’s around, and when she is I’m inclined to leave them for her to enjoy - afterall, she may not be home next year as she wasn’t last. But…there are plenty to share…so I’ll sneak a few more yet! And although in the past I’ve made marmalade from them, juiced them and even baked them into ‘candied Clementines’ in a sugar syrup, honestly? They’re best just like this! If you don’t have a Clementine tree, see if you can source one - it’s a small citrus, so doesn’t take up as much space as an orange, and unlike Mandarins, they don’t have that pong so redolent of school recess and smelly locker rooms!
Now I’m off to pull (don’t faint!) a Sourdough loaf out of the oven! Told you I’m determined to crack this thing! Poor Holly…we had the Sourdough Hotline on red alert yesterday as I made another attempt! Patience…is something Holly has in spades! You see I’m trying to bake a Spelt loaf, as Clemmie is allergic to wheat. Spelt flour has different characteristics and there’s no doubt that as a novice, I’d be better working with normal flour - but there’d be no point if Clemmie can’t eat the result! So…I’m persevering…to see if I can better get to grips with the schedule that baking a loaf requires, whilst I’m not as frantic as I sometimes am. I’m just sure that once the process becomes familiar, it will be one I look forward to. Let’s just say that at the moment, the dough and I are at the hand-shaking stage of a friendship…we’re not yet warm and cuddly! But the kitchen sure does smell good! And here it is! Of course we wont’ know if it’s edible ‘til it’s cut tomorrow!
I do know Holly has an online class beginning on Sunday…so if you’re thinking of embarking on this mission, you might want to take the opportunity to leap in! I think that having got this far, I’ll try under my own steam for awhile - heaven knows I’ve made enough notes…though not enough loaves! Holly says you need to bake about ten…and then you should have the hang of it!
Have a fabulous weekend and 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, clementines, meyer lemons, rhubarb; tomato, aubergine, zucchini (see below); Jerusalem artichoke, parsnip, sweet potato. Leaves of all kinds - spinach, kale - cavolo nero (Red Russian is still growing on) lettuce, radicchio, rocket, red elk mustard leaf, warrigal greens. Broccoli, cima di rapa (rapini or broccoli rabe), fennel bulbs, fennel fronds, parsley, mint, rosemary, thyme, chives, nasturtium and calendula petals, borage flowers. Still new shoot leaves of lovage and still eating onions and garlic from last season although the last two are almost gone - oh no!
Going / gone: aubergines, zucchini, potatoes, onions, garlic
Seed saving: tomatoes, zinnia and nicotiana (the last two ornamental)
Sowing: Peas. I have most seeds in but will continue to sow randomly here and there.
Planting: Onions! I need to replace the ones the cows trashed!
Ornamental garden notes:
Picking for the house: lavender (Dentata) and random stems from the kitchen garden.
Perfumes and aromas: working with tomato foliage at the weekend was such a treat…there’s still plenty of it and how I love the very distinctive olfactory impact it has.
Pruning and other: Thyme and perovskia, as above. Thalia has been filling in the divots the cattle left in the grass! As well as continuing the ongoing job of weeding around trees in the park, clearing a circle around their base ready for mulch to try preventing weed creep up to their trunks (an annual job). I asked her to cut down all the bulrush stems in the front courtyard pond and to gently tease the foliage from the patches of crocosmia in Mrs R’s Garden….leaving those areas clear, clean and awaiting their winter compost and mulch…that big annual job that lies ahead.
I dry the skins of clementines (and tangerines and tangelos) on a little rack on top of the ‘firebox’…the scent is delicious and once dry they go into a jar to use as firelighters (the oil in them burns either a snap, crackle and pop!).
Hello Arcangelina, Now have I included it yet? I don't think so...as it was in Delicious!! I'm under time pressure now so if you really can't wait, the Delicious article (with the recipe!) is now on the website - www.glenmorehouse.com.au select Archive at the top, then 'Press' and it's the first article at the top (just in case I don't have a chance before I upload the index so far!) x