Growth

I was given a load of modular plastic raised beds, and originally didn't think I would use them, but being a convert of no-dig vegetable growing, and short of places to put plants, I set this one up, then another, and a third. This one is filled with onions.

The garden and this blog are alike in one way - I return, do a bit, then leave for months. Actually, I do more in the garden than I write about here, partly because creating a blog entry seems onerous - in fact, it's not the writing but making sure I have a few nice pictures to add that usually holds things up. Anyway, this is by the by - the garden is still there, and although I did mostly abandon vegetable growing from midsummer onwards last year (see the previous entry), I have been very busy recently, and want to record it here.

In fact, I got off to the best start of any year this time. It's been gradual - I suppose I started by getting my boxes of seed packets out, and going through them. I sowed sweet peas first, because they were a bit more urgent than most other things (although, having sown them in good time in mid-March, they sulked and only started germinating a month later). Then I decided a spreadsheet of all the seeds and plants I had would be a sensible step. Like most gardeners, I have a variety of stuff left over from previous years - and last autumn a trip to the nearest garden centre yielded a lot more seeds, as they were considerably reduced in price.

Then something unexpected - I received a lot of garden paraphernalia for free; although it wouldn't have been stuff I would have chosen to buy, a lot was useful - seed trays and propagators, a mini greenhouse, garden shelving, that sort of thing. So there was now somewhere convenient to sow more seeds, and to put them out of the way. The spreadsheet encouraged me to be systematic, sowing those crops that needed an earlier start first. The spring was exceptionally cold, with several feet of snow spread over a number of heavy falls, but in fact that made it feel less stressful.

And it's always the way that doing a little encourages more - clearing a bit of the patio, pruning a shrub, planting some bulbs, you see what else needs to be done, and a positive feedback can begin to build. It can't last forever, but I've been riding the wave for over a month, which is good by my standards.

So what is growing? Well, a lot. Along with the mini greenhouse, I had a cold frame which was another bargain in the garden centre sale, although that has mostly hosted flowering plants for another part of the garden. And amongst the free donations was another one, which I built straight away - they're so useful I wish I'd got one years ago. The second has mostly been for vegetables so far. Above all, my guiding feeling this spring has been no more self-limitation. In the past I would say 'I'm not growing X because I won't have enough time/space to devote to it' - but why? Instead, I am trying everything, knowing that some will fail, and the more there is to start with, the more should succeed. So for instance, brassicas are a group of vegetables I've shied away from, which is partly self-sustaining, because a lack of familiarity and experience with them makes me less confident to grow them. But it's not rocket science (one of my favourite clichéd phrases), and this year I'm trying the lot - cabbages, cauliflower, broccoli, kale, etc. Actually, the only common vegetable I can think of that I'm not growing this year is asparagus (although I am trying asparagus peas). Peas, broad, French, borlotti, and runner beans, sweetcorn, peppers, chillies, tomatoes, aubergines, cucumbers, all sorts of salad leaves, Jerusalem artichoke, carrots, parsnips, beetroot, turnips, chard, spinach, kohl rabi, swede, celeriac and celery, leeks, onions, garlic, shallots - the list is very extensive (I'll put a full list of varieties in another blog post sometime). I've sown around 67* different types of vegetable seeds so far, in addition to onion, shallot, and garlic sets. There's a way to go, but I'm getting there.

The next job is making sure the garden is ready to receieve them. More on that in due course...

*I wrote this in late April, but didn't publish until mid May, by which time I was up to 115.

What happened in 2017

I last posted here in June. Alas, the story of 2017 resembles that of many previous years - I was enthusiastic and quite industrious in the spring, but once summer arrived, I lost my grip on things. Why is summer a problem for me? Well I think in part it's that it cannot match springtime's positive feel. In spring, everything is upward - the light levels are always increasing, temperatures are creeping up, all the plants are growing, and the world is garlanded in flowers in a way that it isn't at any other time. Forgotten bulbs turn lawns, flower beds, and even roadside verges into extravagant floral displays. And so many trees light up, each in turn - blackthorn, then plum, apple, cherry, horse chestnut, and finally the crescendo of hawthorn, lilac, elder, and laburnum. In summer the trees are just in leaf - which is better than the bareness of winter, but it's a bit monotonous, even oppressive. And after the solstice, the leaves start to look tired, as weather and insects take their toll. The fresh green, glossy new growth of spring turns dull. The light starts to slip away, even as the weather can get hotter. But especially in Britain, summer weather is usually less good (especially away from the south east) than we hope or imagine - it's not often sunny and warm, there's too much rain, and indeed more often than not the whole season is a washout. I'm a fair weather gardener, and the combination of summer wet and my absence means weeds grow fast, slugs and snails multiply, and demoralisation turns into abandonment.

The purple potatoes were extraordinarily beautiful when freshly washed. Sometimes when cooked they would go blue - possibly due to an acid/base reaction? 

Last year then. I harvested what was there - and it was good. The broad beans were healthy, although the patch wasn't big enough, and the whole crop was used up in one big batch of falafel. Shallots were great, but I stored them too long and most went bad over the winter. Potatoes were beautiful, although I don't eat them much, and some were made into gnocchi. I stored them in the fridge, and they only started sprouting this spring when I finally brought the remaining ones out again. The garlic has sustained me ever since - along with some I grubbed up from the polytunnel, planted by me three years previously, and which has somehow survived without water ever since. I use a lot of garlic in cooking, and I've not had to buy any for at least eight months. The cloves are small but wonderfully fragrant and delicious.

Incidentally, I ordered new garlic sets in August, for autumn planting. But I didn't - they languished in their paper bags until this spring, when I started them growing in modules and pots. Hopefully they will still provide a crop. They are at least growing!

More homegrown potato gnocchi, with a white-fleshed variety - here served with a creamy tomato sauce, really delicious (sadly the tomatoes were not homegrown).

Gardening is an act of arch optimism, and each spring I feel it's all possible again. Self knowledge helps - I know my weaknesses, I can try to offset them. Maybe this year will be the one.

The end of spring

Things have grown. The line of pots have been sown with summer and winter squash, which will go into the bed at upper left, currently swamped with goldenrod.

I was away for part of May due to unavoidable commitments, and in the meantime, the plants grew rapidly - both my crops, and the wild ones around. At this time of year, anything seems possible. Throw a few seeds down and in no time they're thriving. But the others - in the context of the veg patch, 'weeds' - threaten to retake the ground that's been cleared, so there's no end of chores to do.

I'm behind in many regards. The tomatoes are now small plants, desperately needing potting on, but a lack of suitable pots hindered me. I got all my pumpkins and squashes sown, but they'll not be big enough to plant out for another month at least - but since there's not yet anywhere to put them, that's a bit of breathing room.

A few harvests have brought pleasure - mixed salad leaves, courgette flowers (from the plant I bought a few weeks ago, for an early crop), basil. There's more mint than I know what to do with. And everything else looks healthy and strong (see below). This isn't an ideal time of year to be doing major ground clearance - yet needs must. I often hit a mental wall in June, as the springtime slows, the light peaks, and autumn creeps into my thoughts. However, a week's work now will pay dividends in two months' time, and fill that season (which I don't enjoy) with the achievement of a good harvest. Meanwhile, at least there are lots of flowers around, and everything in general seems at its most alive - the leaves are all out, and still fresh green, supple, and mostly un-nibbled; invertebrate life is busy and endlessly fascinating.

Early May

It's the busiest time of the gardening year. I have pots and trays of seedlings and small plants both indoors and outside. I've hoed and dug more of the vegetable beds, and started clearing the paths around them, and planted more crops - broad beans the latest to go in (which I'd started in cardboard tubes back in March or early April).

Hope.

There's so much more to do. It's not too late to sow many things - especially this far north, and spring here has been slow, with daytime temperatures only picking up into the mid teens since the start of this month. I recently got a book I've wanted since the last time I blogged here a lot - a book on heirloom tomatoes. This has rekindled my love of lycopersicon, so I ordered a few more varieties - it can't hurt, even if they don't eventually fruit. I have the advantage of a greenhouse and polytunnel here, although both need repairing, so I should be able to extend the season somewhat.

I bought a courgette plant from the botanic garden shop - a yellow-fruited variety. I will grow more from seed, but this tiny plant had even tinier embryonic flowers already sprouting. I repotted it on the first day, and in a week it has roughly doubled in size (I've put it out in the sun during the day, brought it in on the chilly nights). It should provide an early crop until the home-down ones get going. I've never grown a yellow variety - they are so pretty, I couldn't resist.

Elsewhere, I've been tackling an area towards the end of the garden near some trees. I've always envisaged a woodland garden there - bulbs and shade-loving perennials with a seating area. So far it's been the hard task of lifting encroaching turf, digging some organic matter into the hard, dry soil, planting (primulas, Trillium, Cardiocrinum, foxgloves), and mulching. It'll need some care, as it's naturally drier there than I'd like, but then it's been a dry spring so far.

Finally, I've been planning ahead in a less glamorous way, making liquid plant feeds from nettles and comfrey, and dock as it seems similar to comfrey in its growing habit. And for the even longer term, I lifted and divided some comfrey, and potted it up - I'll need lots more leaves in the coming months.

The veg plot a couple of days ago, above; and today, below. Progress!

Beginning again

This bed was as overgrown as the one behind it just a few weeks ago.

I've neglected this blog for a few years, in large part because I stopped doing the two things it was set up to document - growing plants (especially edible ones) and cooking. Not that I lost my love for such pursuits, but changes in my personal circumstances and health meant I was no longer inclined to devote so much time to them. One thing that took the place of these activities was in fact due to this blog - I bought a cheap secondhand DSLR to take better pictures to post here, and it began a passion for photography that has become an essential part of my life.

However, I'm willing to try again, especially with growing vegetables. I had never had enough space where I was based before - I signed on to the waiting list for an allotment, but never heard back from them, and now I live somewhere else. The upside is, the garden here is very much larger, and came with a vegetable and fruit patch. The first spring I got stuck in, but having weeded, dug, enriched the soil, and planted lots of crops, I was forced away for several months, so it was largely wasted.

Three years have passed, and I am in a position to start afresh. So far, I've sown a few seeds, and begun to bring the beds back into cultivation. It'll be a slow process - I can't do a lot at once, but cheeringly the work I did before has made it much easier this time round. The soil and paths were lost under a thick growth of nettles, goldenrod, coltsfoot, and creeping buttercup, amongst others, but the soil beneath is still friable and quite rich. Hoeing the top growth, then forking and removing the roots and runners has been largely successful, and the first crops are now in.

So far I have planted out shallots, garlic, and potatoes, and sown broad beans, more shallots, mixed salad leaves, beetroot, tomatoes, and basil. There's a lot more I want to try - there's no limit but the effort I make, so this year I won't put artificial limits on what I set out to achieve. Conversely, I am very realistic and know that I can't do everything, and unforeseen circumstances tend to rule, so I won't get upset with myself if things are left undone.

I'll try to document the progress that I and the garden make together this year. I can certainly take a lot of pictures, at the very least.

Katana cocktail

This blog was started almost precisely a quarter of my life ago. Quite a lot has changed in my circumstances since then, but mostly I am the same person, with the same tastes and dreams.

I revisit very few of my old blog posts, but a couple are worth sharing occasionally - including the recipe for one of my all-time favourite cocktails. It's one thing to love something for a year or two, but this has stood the test of nearly a decade, so it's worth restating, and expanding on.

This is simply delicious, never failing to bring me great pleasure. It's the most complex of my top three or five cocktails, but its basis is the same as e.g. the caipirinha - sugar, lime, and alcohol in perfect balance.

I tasted this in a cocktail bar I visited at random with a friend in London back in 2009. I recreated the recipe at home, keeping the name, and tweaked it until it was perfect. This is not the easiest cocktail to make as you really need a juicer, but if you have one, it's straightforward and well worth trying. I'll give a few ideas below if you don't have a juicer.

Katana

to make a medium-sized jug (about 800ml).
2-4 apples (2 very large, 4 small, etc)
1/2 a cucumber (Long green English-style, as sold in the salad section of supermarkets)
1 1/2 large, or 2 1/2 small limes
A small bunch of mint
Gin
Sugar syrup (buy or make at home by combining equal volumes of white sugar and water)

• Juice the apples, cucumber, limes, and mint. Not all juicers will process mint well - ideally you need a masticating (augur/screw) juicer, rather than a centrifugal one, but check the device's manual for details. If you can't juice the mint, then see below.
• Strain the juice through a fine sieve - if you want really clear juice, then one or two layers of kitchen paper will help, although it may take a while, and this can lead to the juice discolouring due to oxidation.
• Add gin and sugar syrup to taste - approximately 300ml and 100ml respectively. The aim is, as with all good cocktails, a balance between sourness, sweetness, and alcohol. Stir.
• This mix can be refrigerated for a few hours, though it may settle and separate. Otherwise, shake each serving over ice. Serve in a martini glass or large champagne coupe.

Note - there are a few options for the mint other than juicing. You can purée in a blender with the sugar syrup or gin, then strain. Or you can steep crushed or "muddled" mint in the sugar syrup for a few hours or overnight, before making the cocktail. It might be possible to substitute ready-made mint cordial, but I've never tried this.

Shop-bought cucumbers tend to be very bland. If you use homegrown, they should be much more fragrant, in which case reduce the quantity. This should not taste strongly of any one ingredient, but rather be a fresh, bright-tasting combination of them all.

The variety of apple or mint you use will affect the finished cocktail, so experiment. I've used garden mint (I guess peppermint) and apple mint to good effect. Sour apples may require more sugar/less lime, and vice versa. Crisp apples juice more easily than soft or floury ones.

Freshly made, this cocktail is a vibrant green. However, with time and air, it will turn brownish, the one downside to using such fresh ingredients. It will still taste great, either way. There are many options for a garnish, if you're so inclined. Something with a contrasting colour (red or pink) has visual impact - a strawberry (plain or skewered with mint), a rose or peony petal; or simply a slice of cucumber.

Delicious at any time, this is especially good in spring and summer, served outdoors on a sunny day - it tastes of that season, fresh, bright, and juicy.

The garden in July 1

Another month has slipped past, barely making an impression. Fortunately, I took photographs here and there, when I happened to have my camera in the garden, or when something caught my interest in particular. So here's another photoblog of the garden. This first part covers flowers - the early summer stalwarts passed away, and were replaced by tender annuals I sowed back in spring, finally reaching maturity (part 2 will be vegetables and fruit).

The peony had its best-ever year, with two or three dozen huge pale pink flowers. When they opened, the plant flopped over, despite having a metal support - the stems are just too flimsy for the huge, blowsy heads (photographed here after sunset, hence the odd tone).

 I got a tray of petunias from the greengrocer. They turned out to be a mix of red, salmon pink, deep burgundy (that I didn't plant in time, so I lost them), and these awesome magenta and white stripes (another after-dark photograph). The ones I put in containers have done well, and are producing fresh blooms almost daily.

 

Roses! The top two photographs are New Dawn, which has produced dozens of bouquets on the end of long rambling stems (it's supported on a freestanding cane structure). All these have had their best season ever, with no aphids or disease, and lots of healthy growth, and plentiful flowers. The bottom one is Redouté.

Cosmos and sweet peas have thrived - although not all the cosmos have flowered, some taking a long time, and one just producing lots of foliage. I've picked bunches of sweet peas every few days - they are richly fragrant. Elsewhere, lavender is bringing in bees, Eschscholzia (Californian poppy) produced a bright but brief splash of colour, and the last alliums (A. sphaerocephalon) provided continuity from the early summer garden.