Time to sow...
Do you recall last week I suggested a new tradition had been sparked? When I made Cherie’s Parsnip Cake because I’d dug so many of those beauties the week before (alongside it being a vegan recipe which was so helpful to my catering needs the previous weekend!). As my thoughts progressed from baking a cake to the garden cycle (as they are inclined to do), it became glaringly obvious that nature and serendipity were guiding my every action: when I plucked a stem of dried parsnip seed to pop into the top of the cake, a flurry of seeds fell from the huge armful of stems I’ve had standing in a pitcher in the Dairy since earlier this year, when post flowering in the garden (a glory in itself) I added their dry form to my prolific seed bank. The fact they fell to the floor, suggested they are ready and willing to begin their next phase, and so it is that my week has been guided entirely (if not effortlessly!) by nature’s cycle…her requirement of me as a gardener, and her suggestive hint to ensure we have a seasonal bounty on our plates next year. As ever…all one needs to do is pay attention - nature provides the sign posts that cause synchronicity.
Just don’t tell me I haven’t sown in tandem with the luna(tic!) calendar…I don’t want to know! Lack of time, other commitments and deadlines are the reason I had to stop looking at it…as in literally not having one in the house. How I long to garden in tandem with the lunar cycle - some seasons I’ve managed to do so, and I know perfectly well that it makes good sense…that it is senseless not to garden by the tides of energy; the flux between heaven and earth; but life too often has other ideas and all I can do at this particular moment in time is to turn my head away.
And so it’s been that this week has been devoted, in hours stolen here and there, to planting up as much of the traditional side of the kitchen garden as I could. I’ve sown roots (parsnip, beetroot, radish and celeriac - no carrots yet as I’m waiting for vacant space); fruits (tomatoes, aubergines, cucumbers, zucchini - dithering over whether to bother with capsicum!), legumes (Speckled Cranberry, Purple King, Rattlesnake and Millie Ross’s ‘Heavenly Gold’ bean which she kindly gave me some seed of last year) and leafy greens (mignonette, butter and oakleaf lettuces; rocket seed and the next round of coloured chard).
There is still so much more to do…vacant space covered with lengths of hessian; rows smothered in ‘chop & drop’ detritus, simply to keep the soil covered (ie not exposed to the elements). There are lingering specimens gone to seed…whose seed I want to collect, which may not make the garden look so pretty, but it’s just a phase it’s going through…I place real life gardening over aesthetics and there’s enough beauty all around to distract from the odd eyesore!
But there’s something else I keep meaning to share! Do you recall months ago…it must have been late February or March maybe, when I took the flower head of a leek that had erupted into a flurry of fine green strands from each of the seeds it was carrying atop its stem…and sowed them into the garden? Well…this is the result: a lovely long row of leeks! Now that’s the way to grow your leeks from seed - all you need do is allow one (or two or three…depending on how many leeks you want to have on your plate!) to go to flower - which means not pulling all of them now. If one was being exceptionally well organised, one could even sow a handful of leeks with the idea of ornamentation or purpose for seed saving. I’m afraid I’m not that organised! Though I could be…and would like to be. Maybe one day, as I do fully intend to keep up this gardening lark ‘til my dying day!
Thinking of which (well, I wasn’t really…I do hope it’s many, many years off!) I told the girls years ago that I will have to go in November…when all the vegetable umbels (as well as Elderflower) and their good companion friends are in flower - the fennel and carrots; maybe early parsnip; angelica, parsley, celery, coriander - all the ones that resemble ‘weeds’ but offer pollen to the bees and to me, create the most wildly romantic vision of all…
Because it’s with these beauties that I would like my willow coffin (no I haven’t ordered one - they’ll have to find someone to make it in a hurry when the time comes!) to be smothered!
Another thing I’m inclined to keep forgetting to share with you by way of an aside, is the deep, honey-rich aroma that emanates from chard and spinach seed heads, if you let them get away! They make great wild mops of things, and for years now I’ve been inclined to let them to romp to their hearts’ content. In this way, I either collect or allow them to self-sow, which they do locally (ie at their feet) ensuring future food on our plates; but it wasn’t ‘til literally a couple of years ago, that I came to recognise the dense ‘honey’ aroma that permeates the air in the kitchen garden at this time of year, in fact emanates from these unruly seed heads. I don’t even know what made me plunge my nose in that day…I just couldn’t seem to find the source and for some reason I plunged in and after all those years wondering; nailed it!
Before I leave tales of the kitchen garden completely behind today…I pulled the garlic first thing this morning! I’ve been meaning to do it for a week or more - the majority of its stems had collapsed onto the ground, making a mat, which is not ideal for its longevity or for digging up. Anyway, it’s not a bad haul - I fear I may have missed a few that could still be lurking in the ground, but I’ve got the bulk and in haste, have popped them on a wire panel to rest atop the big barrow in the sun, which should dry the soil clinging to their bulbs and roots. In this way, I can wheel them under cover later today and brush the loosened soil off tomorrow. At least they’re out of the ground!
Are you ready for an explosion of prettiness now? By the way…you’ll just have to excuse me for a moment while I tend to my new daily task of enfleuraging (I don’t think that’s a real word but I’m going to leave it here anyway!). More below…
Did I have any idea what I was getting myself into when I invited Sondrine here to run an Enfleurage and Botanical Perfumery Workshop?
Well…yes…of course! I’ve been thoroughly looking forward to it for months on end - the method of enfleurage (as a means of infusing the pure essence of botanicals into another form - a perfumed pomade that can be further refined into an enfleurage absolute, for use in perfumery) has long intrigued me, though I’ve never seen this technique practiced in real life…and I just didn’t expect the result of the workshop would catapult me into immediately carrying out the daily sequence of ‘dénfleurage’ (removing spent flowers from the fat ‘corps’ smeared over the ‘chassis’ or frame - or in my case an old glass pyrex dish with an almost matching lid!) and re-charging with fresh material. Did I have to continue the process begun by participants? Probably not! But could I allow the opportunity to experiment with this fascinating technique, once begun, slip away? It just so happened that my dish was used for an enfleurage of R.brunonii, which has been in full flush, draping the length of the drive fence, sending out a froth of new flowers each and every day for over a fortnight; whereas the dishes Sondrine brought with her, were used for either Chinese Star Jasmine or native Frangipani (which I think would be a quicker daily switcheroo!). And of course she really needed to take those dishes home (although she did offer to leave them behind…but nursing one frame is one thing…whereas three I think, would defeat me at the moment!). And I am so keen, now it’s begun, to continue on with the experiment! Though it does mean I can’t miss a day and now I’m worried the rose’s annual flowering will come to an end before the ‘fat’ has had the opportunity to fully absorb its fragrance. Anyway…it’s a happy experiment I’m playing with and my goodness…we all learned so much.
After our glorious morning walk to collect, then preparing frames for enfleurage alongside listening intently to Sondrine’s every word, whilst also swooning at the perfume filling the space - jasmine and (native) frangipani alongside all the roses we’d collected for a distillation; the afternoon session had each participant create their very own C18th-style Cologne, under Sondrine’s patient guidance. Perfume strips were dunked into precious little bottles (labelled in Sondrine’s fine handwriting) and passed to each participant - smelled and assessed. Then as lists and notes filled brown-paper place settings and calculations were made, finely-tuned scales went into action as individual recipes for weight and essence were fulfilled by dropper. Swoon? Or swoon?
The whole of it was such a heady experience; enchantingly presented by Sondrine, whose attention to detailed historical research, marries romance with exacting precision. Self-taught and passionate since childhood in her pursuit…her expertise in this field is clear. She’s an absolute delight to both correspond with and learn from; and her botanical perfumes are testament to her own ability, alongside the sources (ie the people, growers, distillers; those with extraordinary knowledge of botanical extraction) from whom she locates the purest of natural ingredients that go into her precious small batches of perfume. The word reverence pops up in her descriptions; and Sondrine calls enfleurage ‘an exhalation of flowers’. What more could I possibly add? Well…a link to her website Cygnet Perfumery which also contains a bounty of information - one day I will sit down and read through all of it with a fine-tooth-comb, as it were. I hope one day, when her young children are grown, that she will write a wonderful book, because her words are equal to the contents of her charming, limited edition bottles. In Sondrine’s generation, I see so much hope for the future….
As the annoying green banner that so distracts my writing to you is ticking me off for writing too long again, I won’t upload more images of the day here, but link you to the instagram post I wrote earlier in the week, so you can see more there! I think there are almost 20 images I managed to load there, so hopefully they will fill in more of the day’s atmosphere (and Sondrine promises to send me footage that her husband Patrick took on the day too - so when I receive it, I’ll link that for you too - maybe in next week’s post!).
Well…I ought to get my head out of the clouds and make a start on food prep for this coming Sunday. A batch of Pea & Lovage soup is on my agenda for this evening. I can’t recall if I shared that recipe this time last year…at the beginning of Lovage season, when it’s just popped up in the garden after winter dormancy? I’ll take a look at the recipe indexes (there are two, if you’re keen to backtrack in search of any of the recipes I’ve mentioned!) and if it’s not there, I’ll include it in next week’s post, or at least the link. I’ve made this delicious spring soup for the last two events and can’t resist doing so again - especially as I just finished the last drop left in a little cup for lunch! Lovage is easier to get hold of at the nurseries these days than it once was, so if you spy a little plant, do pick one up - now is a very good time to plant and get it established during the warm months, before it dies down for a winter rest.
This Sunday I’m excited to have Jardine Hansen coming to play with flowers. It may sound simple…but it’s going to be a challenge for her - one I know she’ll relish! The garden is betwixt and between - a mini-season - the blooms of early spring long gone and there’s always a little ‘adjustment’ as the garden evolves on its journey into summer. I’ve left some specimens long (that I’m really longing to take my secateurs to!) especially for the day; whilst I’m willing others on to produce a flower or two! I’ve suggested the day will include someone (ie me!) needing to climb a ladder. There will be saws as well as secateurs involved. Jardine is a long-time florist whose absolute favourite thing is to gather from the garden and she has a great deal of information, of tips and ideas and encouragement to share. Garden to vase, #grownnotflown, organic in both growing and arranging terms…Sunday will encapsulate both romance and practicality and I’m so looking forward to it. A day in Jardine’s company, flowers aside, is joy enough, so our participants are in for a real treat.
I’ll leave you with Albertine; how I adore her delicate, shell-pink blooms and fulsome rose fragrance. It’s been such a week for the roses - Melbourne Cup week always is. Some of the spring-only flowerers are sending out their last blooms now and I’m just hoping there are enough to keep blooming for Sunday! Tenterhooks again…
Sending you all happy wishes for the week ahead.
Mickey x
Productive garden notes:
Eating from the garden:
Coloured chard, parsnip (have unearthed so many more whilst planting!), leek, beetroot, garlic, broad beans (harvested and keeping well in the fridge); asparagus, lettuce, rhubarb. Lovage, mint, chives, parsley, rosemary, sage, thyme. Nasturtium petals, chive flowers, fennel fronds, fennel pollen, poppy seeds (I’ve had those for weeks!)
Going / gone: Kale - cavolo nero, celery, coriander, borage and calendula petals
Seed saving: cima di rapa, red elk mustard, peas, poppies (the kitchen garden and peony poppies), broad beans - drying on the stem
Sowing: beans*, corn*, sunflowers*, zinnia, (could sow zucchini and cucumber but I’m inclined to sow seedlings of these two instead), rocket and parsley - under shade though; beetroot*, parsnip*, carrot, radish *be sure to soak the seed before sowing
You could also sow pumpkins…I know many peeps do, but I find it better here to sow or plant seedlings in late November/early December - we all get to become familiar with our own microclimates…eventually!
Planting: lettuce, coloured chard, tomatoes, aubergine, capsicum, cucumber, zucchini
Ornamental garden notes:
Picking for the house: Philadelphus, solandra trumpets, crinum lilly and roses. There’s another gardenia - I must go and pick it! And I keep forgetting to go and pick the sweet smelling dianthus that have gone bonkers in the pots at the Hayshed…
Perfumes and aromas: Philadelphus is cascading still throughout the Barn Garden and spilling down the steps, wafting as far as the Kitchen Garden, but meets with air thick with R.Brunonii at the corner of the Barn Garden hedge (despite the Philadelphus now being on its last legs…already). It’s an intoxicating combination. The waxy perfume of Chinese Star Jasmine is all around the Hayshed, Orchard and Borders and the intense aroma of coriander in flower fills the Kitchen Garden…and now the chard flowers have developed their spires, a rich honey scent has joined the throng. Down in the Field…on the way to the Field…waves of pure rose engulf the senses. The first Burmese honeysuckle flower has opened…so I anticipate that mellifluous aroma will soon engulf the house!
Pruning and other: tree weeding and trunk clearing has continued this week, between Thalia sifting barrows of compost for me to add as I plant out the kitchen garden (it’s all a matter of time or lack-of more like, in a bid to get the main planting done as a matter of urgency!). I’ll never be able to reclaim those gardening weekends I missed in September and every second is of the essence!
Hi Mickey. Thank you for sharing so much with us. I really like the way you use hessian, netting and chop n drop etc to keep the soil covered. Noted for my gardening work. Also not chopping all and experiencing the flowers for scent, pollinators and amazing visual enjoyment. More for me to absorb and use in my own garden. 🌻