Wet, grey, dull, heavy...
and yet!
Unexpected splashes of sunlight here and there, weak and watery at times, bright and effervescent at others with an occasional rainbow thrown in for good measure have, combined, cast joy amidst an otherwise bleak atmosphere and caused growth at a rate of knots!
Citrus are colouring though not quite yet ready to pick - the sweetness of an orange comes later, perhaps with the first frost of the season that we’ve not yet experienced; so although it’s tempting, I’ll resist picking (or at least try!) ‘til we do. The Navel oranges over two trees should give us daily juice for all the winter months ahead. The Valencias follow later. I leave the fruit on the tree, picking only what we need (so those who wait for that almost daily insta upload of my evening pick will soon see oranges join the throng!). I know that some days I’ll forget which will make me hopping mad at myself as winter-frozen orange juice first thing in the morning does not a fantastic start to the day make! But those wintry mornings lie in wait, as for now…I’m getting ahead of myself!
Tiny broccoli heads are forming deep down in the heart of those (by now) sturdy plants. It seems only a very little time ago that I sowed those tiny seedlings as late summer met early autumn, protecting them under wire and net. And now here they are…growing-on. I’ll allow these to develop into large heads (I choose to grow this classic old-fashioned variety) and will explain more as I begin to pick, which is also not yet. It’s in this way that our diet evolves ever so slowly in tandem with the garden, as the season progresses.
Here you can see that burgeoning double brassica row that was hiding under the tunnel! Free at last to grow on, they’ve stabilised since I removed their protection at the workshop now a fortnight ago (any kind of protection hampers growth and strength…and if I could just allow them to fend for themselves from the beginning I would). The gentle rain and bursts of sunshine have been kind and both kale and broccoli are growing on strong.
The same can be said for the row of cauliflowers. You can see I’ve removed the wire cylinders and net from the next two in the successionally sown row (the first planted, previous two are much larger in size) whilst adding a cylinder and net to the final seedling planted just two weeks ago…at the far north end. Already it’s put on some good growth, and all being well and equal, it will be the last one we eat…stringing out the large, snowy white heads (hopefully!) for us to eat throughout the season. There are no visible hearts forming in the caulies yet though…they always seem to be slower to form than the heads of broccoli.
The summer zucchini is still snaking its way towards the north! I’m still removing a large, spent leaf or two each week, as well as a little fruit or two, which are making their way into omelettes or pasta or a medley of veg on our plates. I’m so glad I didn’t take it out just because it was nominally the end of the season…it’s doing no harm where it is and still supplying the kitchen with its fruit.
Between the showers last weekend, I managed to get more of the seedlings I’d bought at the market the previous week into the ground. Phew…I don’t like to leave them for more than a week and preferably plant them within a couple of days. So above, you can see a new row planted (just this side now of the old zucchini) of cavolo nero (kale) interspersed with a few kohl rabi. I planted the entire row…perhaps unwisely…but by now it’s getting late to plant. As we’ll most probably eat our way through that first row of kale quite quickly once I begin picking in earnest (I’m picking only very sparingly ‘til we get a frost - we’re still predominantly eating spinach and chard as our leafy greens) I do want to be sure there’s a good follow-up crop to take us into the spring.
All of this is on the traditional side of the garden. Over in the guild beds, on the opposite side of the apple tunnel, there are individual specimens times two or three, of the same veg growing on the traditional side. So these too, will string out our eating.
In relaying all of this, I hope you’re beginning to get the picture that really…my gardening is dictated by our eating. It’s a topic I’ll come back to but I’ve often explained it as having three significant conversations in my head: imagine the ‘lady of the house’ talking to her ‘cook’ and the ‘cook’ relaying the message to the ‘head gardener’ (in the manner perhaps, of a good Julian Fellowes period drama!). I am the lady of the house, just as I am also the cook, and the gardener. All three roles must meet expectation and I’m a hard task-master - especially on myself as I know exactly what I want…both to see and to eat!
At the moment nothing will persuade me to remove either tunnel or net from my first-sown cabbage of the season! I know he’s hard to see properly beneath the haze of net but oh those exquisite, heavily-veined leaves are becoming more ornamental by the day! Deep in the centre, the tight, frilly leaves that will make up his heart are beginning to form.
Cabbages take up an enormous amount of space. In the early years I tried to grow them in rows, but truly it’s a silly thing to do in a relatively small area (in cabbage terms, our beds are relatively small!). They need to sprawl and I like to give them as much of an opportunity to do that as I can. So…I’ve taken to planting them on corners! Where I might use a wigwam for impact in the summer months, during the winter, a corner-grown cabbage has the propensity to make a fabulous and substantial visual impact. It’s in the winter I wish I had three or more of my half-size tunnels, as they’re just the thing to protect a fine specimen cabbage! The ones I’m protecting inside cylinders are already bursting out and I’ll have to release them this weekend, which as you know, will make them vulnerable to the white cabbage moth. But it’s time for their cylinders to go or their captivity will inhibit their future strength.
At last, I was able to make a move on what was the summer fruiting bed. The two tomatoes whose frames have been occupying the centre of that bed for near-on six months have come to an end: a Black Krim and Hungarian Heart…two varieties I grow here every year. Their framework has been holding up the final crop-rotation work, so whilst there are more toms coming in from elsewhere, I’m quite happy to finally have this space to play with. The basil between the two frames had also reached a sad demise…
First it was time to freshen up the bed…to scrape the old mulch to the side and, because I’m sowing root veg, to plunge in with hands to check for any stones or pebbles…they have a way of getting in there somehow! Carrots and parsnips are the two root veg whose pointy ends will split and go off in crazy directions if they encounter an obstacle in their way and are the only two I go to such lengths of soil preparation for! Time poor, this time I asked Thalia to please do that for me whilst I set off looking for my seed and getting ready for an afternoon of activity (I find it very difficult to get into the garden on weekday mornings with my desk and deadlines beckoning!).
Later in the day, with planks upon which to tread and string-line to guide, I sowed a swathe of parsnip seed and one of carrot too. I soaked the parsnip seed for a few hours prior to sowing. Now truth be told, I usually cover the rows of these two with a length of hessian or net, to prevent them drying out…part of me always thinks mulch will impede seed germination, but…I’m not so sure. It certainly hasn’t impeded the germination of the beetroot seed, so…I’ve just popped a fine dusting on top and with more rain likely, there’s little chance of the rows drying out. We shall all see!
It may be a mistake, but I couldn’t resist infilling those two rows with a smattering of saved nigella seed! It will make for a pretty picture (and a good crop of black nigella seeds to toast) if it works. Play…truly…this is all about play! (As well as food and sensible things of course!).
The beetroot row is coming along well…the first half sown is sprouting bright, fresh leaves now and the later half-row sown is making its presence felt. I’m guessing I’ll be able to take out the remnants of the tomato tunnel (to the left) in the coming days which will free up some more space and I anticipate I’ll finally have this bed winter-sown in the next couple of weeks. Crop rotation at this rate…how long have I been going? Three months? I think I said in the very first post…to slow it all down…
There is something I’ve been antsy about this week though! Moon planting…in synchronicity with the astro-calendar is something I like (though don’t always manage) to adhere to! There have been times when I’ve stuck religiously to doing so and others where…it’s just not been possible. Every bone in my body and every sense…from my finger tips to my toes, as well as that cotton-wool head of mine tells me it’s the right thing to do. And yet…
I first took the astro-calendar into account after attending my first Biodynamic workshop…which must surely be about 15 years ago. It makes so much sense to apply biodynamic principles (I know…some of you will think it’s all woo-woo but the nature of it makes perfect sense to me). It should also make the tasks one adheres to on particular days more straightforward…as in ‘it’s a root day so only attend to root veg’ and ignore everything else, or ‘it’s a flower day so only attend to flowers’; which if you’re farming as your career and/or living a pure and honestly self-sufficient way of life makes complete sense. But if like me, you wear goodness knows how many hats…it actually makes life more complicated! Why? Because this week for example, I knew I had time to attend to that seed-sowing I mentioned above. The weather yielded the perfect opportunity, as did my diary. So I seized the opportunity to sow with both hands and yet…a niggling (not so far) at the back of my mind was telling me that you know you haven’t received the prompt from Phoebe at Alchemilla Studio with the month of May’s moon-planting guide for a reason…you shouldn’t be doing it! I knew it even as I did it! And so part of me was hopping mad at myself which doesn’t make for good intention and all that jazz….
For a few years I stopped looking at the Lunar calendar altogether for exactly this reason! I knew I wouldn’t have time to sow those seeds next week….I’m still at a phase of life where there is much to do away from the garden…I can’t just drop everything else (much as I do try as best I can to commit to tending a particular family group of plants when the calendar says so). Some years ago I got to a stage where I was calling this faithful guide the lunatic calendar as trying to comply with its guidance was driving me bonkers!
One day, way off into the future, I will indeed allow the lovely lunar calendar to guide my every move, but at this stage, I guess I just have to accept that there will be times I’ll get all twisted up about getting it wrong. This week I got it wrong.
The time for sowing this month begins tomorrow: Saturday & Sunday are flower days, Monday is for flowers and leaves, Tuesday and Wednesday are leaf days; Thursday, Friday and Saturday are for seeds. Phoebe has written several Almanacs where she beautifully and concisely explains the phases of the moon and cultivation and I do long to get her here for a workshop. She has a flower farm in Victoria which I also want to visit…one of these days! But do join her newsletter for a monthly update - if you’re at that stage of life or you are growing as a career or if you’re simply intrigued…her lovely monthly ‘planting-window’ guide will keep you on track! (And no…you don’t need to go out dancing and sowing naked by the light of the moon!).
Last Saturday before the rain set in, I was excited to attend the launch of Foster a Potter, a new initiative instigated by a dear friend and her esteemed colleagues. I’ve been watching Susie’s passion for making, grow with zeal and commitment, along with the community of skilled potters she’s grown around her. As an outsider to that world, it was clear the panel gathered on the stage in the (beautifully restored) old Barn at Denbigh (more on that as their open day approaches in the spring) were among the most respected in their field, along with an audience of passionate listeners / makers too. I learned a lot, about the path those artists have taken in their careers to reach the position they’re in today…free to make the work they want, as well as in a position to guide those who want to learn. Skill…the opportunity to learn and absorb real skill…from someone so well-practiced and revered, is a rare thing. And fragile too…as mentor and mentee need to be compatible…in this instance…as earthenware and glaze.
This is a wonderful new opportunity for a keen potter (or more than one if sufficient funds can be raised). Foster a Potter (FOPO) is a NFP fundraising organisation which will support and fund ceramics students to learn and work alongside experienced ceramicists and potters to develop practical, technical and business skills and knowledge to setup and successfully run their own ceramics studio and/or practice.
I wonder…if the same could be done for gardeners? I raised this issue with Paul Bangay last week…(in fact it’s an issue I’ve been raising with various peeps for many years) and it’s something I’d like to explore further. I don’t believe there are proper opportunities available to grow real gardeners in this country and it’s something I’d very much like to explore. Your comments would be very welcome.
A rainy Sunday…is oh so rare! And event-free too! There were so many possibilities for what I might do, from the things I should to the things I could! And I decided on one that’s been tempting me for weeks: ever since Cade McConnell’s visit and workshop, I’ve been longing to properly explore his beautiful book Plants, Clay & Fire. For one so young, it’s a compendium of enormous accomplishment. Cade traces the path of his life to date with thoughtful reflection and diligence; the beliefs that have come to guide his life, his concise and beautifully explanatory observations on food, ingredients and sustainable growing methods, through tactile utensils and all the nuts and bolts of food preparation and cooking in the way he does…in the spaces he does…all of this before getting anywhere near the recipes which I’m still to launch into. I very much hope to persuade Cade to return for another workshop in the not-too-distant future, but in the meantime, what a fine example he sets across many areas of life. Whilst not exclusive by any means to young men (so far I only know of women who have his book and all are in equal admiration) if there are young men in your realm, I’d be gifting them this book as a thoughtful way to grow into well-rounded manhood. Cade is creating his life’s journey on his own terms, thoughtfully, gently and with enormous respect.
Sibyl…had other ideas! But then wet days and cosying up with a pusscat are entirely compatible…and eventually, her tail relented to my page turning!
Of course I couldn’t devote the entire day to reading…the thing with being a productive gardener is that productivity is always on the agenda…the tasks never come to an end - there’s always but always another lying in wait!
You’ve heard me mention a few times now that I have sheet-loads of saved seed…and this is what I mean! As a general rule, I cut down tall stems of seed on the stem from the garden once they’re dry. That initial cut sends seed pinging off in the immediate vicinity which is what causes all the lovely self-sown seedlings I talk about. It’s then I take those stems into that big white space that is the Dairy and lay them out on big old sheets or tablecloths, to dry on a bit further. Laying them on a cloth ensures I collect any seeds that are likely to drop off at this time and over the coming weeks as they dry further, and also ensures I can move the bundles in a hurry if I need to (hence all to-ing and fro-ing to the house last week and during the previous event weeks!).
But there does come a time when those enormous bundles simply have to be dealt with! Sunday was the perfect opportunity. I separated the fennel from the parsnip…and gently, but roughly (as in I wasn’t over precise or I’d go mad!) coaxed the seeds off their stems.
I’m now devoid of the bundles that were cluttering up the Dining Room, the stems made a good dry layer in the compost, I have a substantial jar filled to the brim with fennel seeds to use in the kitchen, and a paper bag of parsnip seeds ready to sow (well…I’ve already sown quite a few but there are many more for the next lunar-led opportunity!).
In a similar vein, I’ve taken a couple of weather-opportunities to begin packing quantities of dried wormwood Artemisia absinthium into cloth bundles for our cupboards in an attempt to repel moths. I love the smell of it and much prefer it to the traditional one of camphor moth balls! I’ve just realised though that I’m being very stupid in not putting it around all the brassicas in the garden as apparently white cabbage moths hate it too (you don’t say…what was I not thinking?). Well…there’s a job for this weekend!
I do find one really can only absorb so much information at a time…no doubt the same realisation has occurred to me before about surrounding the brassicas with cuttings from this plant but I generally find it’s only when I put something into practice that I remember to do it again. For years I was sowing seed of land cress under all my brassicas as it too, is said to be a good companion…in that if the newly hatched caterpillars should fall off their brassica leaf where they’ve hatched, into the land cress and begin munching it instead, it will kill them. I did this with limited success and the result is I’m never without land cress somewhere in the garden!
As I now grow this almost lacy-leafed, loose but handsome plant in quantity (down in the aromatic row of the field) finding enough wormwood to pile under the brassicas shouldn’t be a problem!
I picked these stems a few months ago, when it was hot and dry, and they’ve been spread out on a large wicker tray ever since. It too, has been moved numerous times these last months and I’ll be happy to complete this task and return the tray to where it lives down in the pantry. Slowly…I’m tidying as I go!
Textiles are a passion…and I’ll save a long story for another time, but with a dear friend’s request to seek out some beauty for her bedroom, they’ve briefly grabbed my attention this week.
How I love a visit to the textile houses…sifting through all those patterns, colours and textures…all the likely possibilities and combinations truly sets my heart a-flutter! One of my favourite haunts of all is Ascraft Textiles who hold the cloths of some of my very favourite designers. But one can’t use them all…and selecting…knowing the one or ones you’ve found for their purpose, is like finding a new old friends. I came home with some happy companions who are filling another part of my world!
In a mad spur-of-the-moment decision on Tuesday, I decided to not toss out some just-out-of-date pouring cream (I hate waste and rarely do). At last year’s glorious Sourdough, Bread, Butter & Pickles Workshop with Holly Davis Holly shared how to make Kefir-cultured butter. I couldn’t resist leaping at the idea of including butter-making in her proposed class when she suggested it! And so to my absolute delight, she did! On the two times I’ve tried since, I’ve had some success…the first time more so than the next. It’s one of those things I honestly can’t yet say I’ve grasped, but whatever it was I did on Wednesday evening…it worked! And it was not overly messy or arduous.
I haven’t glammed up the resulting butter-pat in the image, which I imagine I could…but it’s an honest pat and right now I’m just interested in the taste and texture, which is simply so good! Given this result, I’d not be so put-off at the idea of trying again. Whilst I don’t intend doing it every day, I have a hunch it would be worth finding a good organic source of pouring cream, which is not easy. In fact I find it more and more difficult to source ‘pouring’ cream at all, which I’ve used for years to make ice cream.
I know…one of you is going to suggest I need a cow, but I do have to draw the line somewhere! We live opposite a Dairy…but sadly there’s no cream to be gleaned there…and I think I have enough to do without milking a cow!
Incidentally, Holly is coming back here to do a Troubleshooting Sourdough Workshop in a couple of weeks time. Eventually, I’ll be able to make Bread and Butter for our Supper! Well…at least toast and butter for our breakfast which reminds me…the Seville oranges are developing in size at a good rate now, just outside the kitchen window - hanging in weighty bunches of marmalade-in-the-making on the tree!
Last week I talked about digging Jerusalem artichokes and promised to let you know how I prepare them! When we get better light, I’ll take some new photos to share with you here rather than going back in search of the hundreds I must have taken over the years! If you have a copy of The House and Garden at Glenmore you will find a beauty taken by Daniel Shipp along with the Jerusalem artichoke recipes.
So far, I’ve cooked them just twice in the last fortnight and both times the same way…my absolute favourite way to eat them. The soup I’ll share in a few weeks…it’s truly a mid-winter thing and it’s a bit fiddly, though well worth the process.
Sometimes I just scrub, boil and mash…add a little salt, pepper and extra virgin olive oil or butter. Sometimes I do this and add it to mashed potato. Sometimes I cook them with the potatoes and mash them together (it depends who’s at home!). Larry and I like them all these ways.
I usually don’t peel them - especially if they’re new as they are at this time of the season, when their skins are beautifully fine and the earth is easily washed off. As the season progresses and if their knobbles are truly knobbly, I just cut those bulges (that create crevices too deep to remove the earth) off and discard to the compost.
But my favourite way…is simply as follows:
Baked Jerusalem Artichokes
Dig as many as you like (I generally find it a good idea to blast them with the hose to remove the earth that clings…it makes them easier to scrub properly clean and makes much less mess in the kitchen sink!)
On this note of quantity…I generally find two maximum per person is good for digestion (of course we all want to keep on eating them because they taste so incredibly delicious that it’s difficult to stop!). Hence…I might only cook four at a time even if I dig up more. There is a reason their nickname has the letter ‘f’ in front!
So…scrub, pat dry, slice…not too finely - some need only be halved or make three slices - each one has its very own unique shape and character
Rub slices with olive oil, lay them out on a baking sheet lined with baking paper and sprinkle over a little salt, a twist or two of black pepper and perhaps add a few sprigs of thyme
Bake at 180C and keep a close eye on them…use tongs to turn them over after about 15 minutes…they will probably be golden on both sides before the half hour is up. They should be a bit fluffy in the middle, but slightly crispy too.
Eat as is (in fact see if you can resist eating them all before they make it to a plate!) or scatter alongside other veg with meat or chicken, or even add them to a leafy green salad straight from the oven - I love them like this - the warm, crispy artichoke folded through leaves of differing colour and texture - from radicchio and butter, to mignonette and rocket.
I feel we haven’t quite got there yet but…the moment is coming: in winter seasons past, I know I’ve presented them cooked in this manner, layered on top of each other alongside loosely folded strips of prosciutto on a big white platter, accompanied by a big leaf salad; slices of Belinda Jeffery’s Pumpernickel Soda Bread, Chèvre and Fennel Frond Pistou and with a little seasonal soup. In fact…I might do just this very thing for a small lunch I’m hosting next week!
When cooking with the seasons, it really is a whole year between recipes and possible combinations…whilst I like to recall things past, I also like to be inspired by what’s sitting right in front of me at the time! Let’s see what next week brings…
And there you have this week’s account and random thoughts…except for the final notes below! It’s our wedding anniversary…not an epic one, so there’s no great plan except that I would quite like to be away from my desk in order to cook dinner in a timely fashion! These substack Fridays have become a race to the finish line with a much streamlined kind of dinner…poor Larry! And on this very heavy, wet, grey and cosy kind of day…I do not wish to go out anywhere…or for any reason! Although I may have to put on my boots and go and pick leaves and herbs! Fair-weather gardener? Me? Surely not!!
(OK scrap most of the last paragraph! I did just go out to collect a bounty of roses heavy with raindrops, to take the cover off the green-manure crop I asked Thalia to sow in the old potato bed because some of it is trying to germinate and to pick some herbs and bits and pieces to add to dinner…as a result I am now wet and grubby with still editing to do! It’s now dark… And of course not just every wedding anniversary but each an every day is epic in marriage! Whilst I wouldn’t mind if setting off to Italy was on tomorrow’s agenda (as it was 38 years ago but then, from England, not here!) I would be quite content with a Floris-scented bath as I might have back then…and I did notice someone has popped a bottle of champagne in the fridge!).
Raindrops on roses…
Have a wonderful week ahead everyone and…keep dry…now that could be a challenge! Mickey x
Productive garden notes:
Eating from the garden:
Fig (stewed the last in the method I explained last week and they are delish!), pomegranate, persimmon (the very last ONE is still taking its time to ripen on the bench), rhubarb; tomato, aubergine, zucchini, potatoes, leaves of all kinds - spinach, lettuce, radicchio; cima di rapa, Jerusalem artichokes and now early pickings of cavolo nero leaves; fennel fronds, parsley, mint, rosemary, thyme, chives. Should have mentioned both nasturtium and calendula petals before, both of which I’ve been picking for weeks to strew through leaf salads. Still new shoot leaves of lovage and I’ve forgotten to include rocket these last few weeks - still a bit summer-tainted…the new delicate sowings are just coming up. Still eating onions and garlic from last season.
Seed saving: Beans…Speckled Cranberry, Purple King, Rattlesnake…I’ll have the last of them in this weekend and those of a Red Prado Sunflower.
Sowing: Peas, broad beans, beetroot, parsnip, cima di rapa, coriander, chervil, dill, rocket, mustard leaves red elk and giant red. Carrot, parsnip, nigella, poppies and sweet peas (more about those next week).
Planting: globe artichokes, leeks, kale, broccoli, cauliflower, kohl rabi, fennel, radicchio, lettuce and…onions! The first onions went in this week…I need to add another haul from the next market.
Ornamental garden notes:
Picking for the house: roses, dahlias (very tail end of the zinnias too) but scored an exquisite Magnolia!
Perfumes and aromas: the labdanum aroma emanating from the cistus continues to be intoxicating, the murraya is studded with tiny white flowers of mock orange, the prostanthera in the field is spilling all around with its deeply indigenous allure and one last spire of nicotiana that I brush past each time I walk the kitchen garden path is simply heaven!
Pruning and other: Thalia did complete pruning the pomegranate hedge which will hopefully encourage it to thicken up…it’s inclined to be spindly but its fruit have been abundant. She also trimmed the oleander hedge this week - doing this regularly, when we are able, means it too is gradually thickening and strengthening - we don’t want either of these to be any taller…just thick and healthy! The Chinese star jasmine behind the pool has been determined to send out tall, new shoots, so they had a trim. The last few highly aromatic plectranthus that I hadn’t managed to get to in the field, had a good chop back and otherwise, some badly neglected weeding was done, as well as scattering another application of the lawn treatment for the army worm that’s been killing lawns across the district: hopefully the rain will water it in and deal with the quite unsightly problem that’s inclined to come with a hot, wet summer…there’s always something!
It's a lovely idea Jeanne! Thank you for your anniversary wishes...it's just so wet and grey...not midnight dance enhancing one bit...but I'm hopeful the creek might flow - that would make me very happy indeed! Mx
Thanks Julie, lovely to hear from you :) and glad you're enjoying the crazy tips! Til the next post. Mx