Kitchen Garden Kicks Off
This year's crops are in full swing in the new Kitchen Garden. Even the sweet peas are flowering, thanks to May's warm weather. 

Rocket rules... 
I began to harvest lettuce and rocket from mid March. Good crop but a mixed bag in terms of flavour. As ever, the rocket was great - hot, peppery, fierce, fantastic when compared to shop-bought. But lettuce was another matter. 


... but lettuce does not...
I don't think I'd sow "winter salad" mixes again - they contain too many brassicas for my liking. Nor would I sow Romaine lettuce "Bionda Lentissima a Montaire" again - it was too bitter for my taste. "All year round butterhead" lettuce cropped well from seed, and was tender, but pretty bland. Once I've cleared the ground of these crops, I'll sow red lettuces and chicory instead, and hope for better results. 

... so eat chard instead.
Chard has been a real success, though. I've grown several types, both Swiss Chard "Lucullus" and "Verde a Costa Bianca," and I'm already harvesting  young chard leaves. They're delicious braised in salty butter. These I would definitely grow again and again. 

Autumn sown broad beans 
I've been harvesting autumn-sown broad beans Aquadulce Claudia since mid May. This was the "final" year I was going to grow broad beans: I was so fed up with them being devoured by aphids. For the first time I tried the autumn sowing approach. From now on I'll always grow broad beans this way. 

(Sow them into individual pots under cover in the autumn; transplant late winter/early spring into the soil; chop off new growth in early May, once they've flowered and begun fruiting, to avoid attracting aphids; keep weed free throughout.)

Agretti
Now I'm harvesting Agretti (Salsola soda). All of my veg, this was the one I was most excited about growing this year. I first ate it last summer, at Worton Organic Garden, and loved it. It looks like floppy samphire, but tastes less salty.

Huge anticipation, bit of a let-down
My experimental attempt to sow it under cover last autumn failed completely. This spring I tried to sow it under cover and then plant out, and also to plant out direct. Of the two approaches, only the direct sowing worked. My harvest is good, but the flavour is hugely disappointing - it needs jazzing up with lemon and olive oil, but is still akin to crunchy grass.  Let's just say that Mr. P will not partake, and I'm not sure I'll bother growing it again. 

Next on the radar - the first strawberries (Frigaria ) - for which my mouth is already watering. Fingers crossed I manage to eat them before the pigeons, rabbits, chickens and slugs find them.

In the meantime, the sweet peas are coming on nicely, and the Oca, Yacon, Salsify, and Cardoons are in the ground. I've planted several squash on a heaving compost pile. Now I just need to find  some space for all of those Globe Artichokes... 

I love salad, rocket and watercress especially; but it's expensive to buy, and has usually been highly processed before purchase. Last season, though, my big success was rocket. I direct sowed it in succession, and we enjoyed lots of hot, firy rocket well into autumn.

This season I sowed winter lettuce, cress, and rocket under glass, in both seed trays and guttering, and then planted them out in March. They stayed in semi-stasis for a good few weeks, before suddenly bursting into growth in April. We've been eating all these leaves for 3-4 weeks now. 

But I rather over-estimated our capacity for salad consumption, and this past fortnight, I've certainly been feeling like I have to dutifully scoff large buckets of leaves at lunch and dinner. I've been giving it away to neighbours... but I finally accepted that enough was enough. The flea beetles have been beginning to make inroads, and, believe it or not, the rocket and the brassicas included in the winter lettuce mix have already begun bolting.

So I chopped down and thinned most of it, and am hoping for a second batch in a few weeks. Next time, though, I'll be a little less generous when I sprinkle the seed. After all, a girl cannot live on cress alone. 

Sowing has been going on in earnest for some time, but finally it's warm enough, and there's enough light, for serious seed sowing.

Having grown sweet peas and broad beans last autumn, and planted them out, I've now cleared space for some annual flowers (cosmos, eeee) as well as some more unusual veg, such as Black Salsify, Cardoon 'Bianco Avorio,' both Violet as well as Green Globe Artichokes, Oca 'Orange' and 'Dylan Keating', Field Beans 'Wizard', Cimi de Rapa (Turnip Tops), and Agretto.

I've also bought a large number of strawberries from a wholesaler and have potted them up. I chose Trailing Red Cascade and Senga Gigana. This year I'll probably grow them all in pots, since I'm out of bed space, but next year I hope to have a large bed dedicated to these tasty beauties. 

The greenhouse is also housing my tomato seedlings ('Green Zebra', which the Real Seed Co claims is one of the tastiest ever bred... we'll see!... as well as 'Di Parma' and Fiorentino' from Franchi). 

So far all the tomatoes have evidenced excellent germination rates. The Field Beans, after a slow start, are also doing well, as are both Artichokes. The Agretto, predictably, is doing diddly squat, so I'm going to sow it again in April - ditto the Cardoon and Salsify, which germinated but the seedlings were too etiolated for my liking.

More reports coming soon... 

This season I'm planting Yacon... 

As some readers will know, last year my garden was host to an enormous potato plantation, and we still making our way through the crop. I'm keen to avoid another such glut, particularly since I'm not actually a potato fan, so I thought I'd try Yacon as an interesting alternative. 

It is meant to have a crunchy texture and a slightly fruity / chestnut taste. Here is how the Real Seed Catalogue describes it:

"Yacon is a large plant from South America, distantly related to sunflowers, and it has huge, attractive fuzzy green leaves. It has very pretty little yellow flowers at the top of each stalk.

The plants are very easy to grow and seem to thrive in almost any soil or climate. Underground, it grows a bit like a dahlia.. At the end of the season you dig it all up and the storage tubers are the bit you eat - they are really sweet and crunchy. The knobbly growing tips you divide and replant, so you don't need to keep buying it." 

Reading that it contains inulin (like Jerusalem Artichokes) makes me a teeny bit concerned that it may prove, like them, to taste delicious but have unfortunate gastric impact! We'll see. In the meantime, it is potted up in the greenhouse waiting to be planted out once the weather improves. 

If you're interested in learning more, The Guardian also has a nice article on Yacon here. 

Dreaming of summer's harvest
I'm enjoying imagining the garden in summer: trellising laden with sweet peas, runner beans and pumpkins... beds brimming with rocket, beetroot and lettuce. But there are still plenty of practical things to do before the real fun starts. 

First, a bit more work
Next week Ashridge Trees will deliver my hedging and fruit trees and I'll be busy planting these around the kitchen garden. In a few weeks time, the beds will be filled with top soil and compost, then edged with old railway sleepers. After that I'll cover them with weed-suppressant membrane or black plastic to stop weed seeds germinating and to warm the soil for spring planting.  I've been nurturing my poor asparagus crowns, keeping them cool and moist in the pantry, but these will also need to go into the ground as soon as possible, along with the fruit bushes. 

Then onto the real fun 
After that, the real fun can begin - planning which seeds to sow next year. I'm consulting Thomas Etty's incredible catalogue of heritage veg for ideas... and planning a local seed swap so that I can gain from my neighbours' experience. More on that in the New Year. Until then, back to work!  

I have the best of both worlds. Yesterday, before "the great storm," I dug up the last of my main crop potatoes, and dried them off in front of the Aga. I grew Picasso as my maincrop, and although each plant only produced 3-4 potatoes, they were whoppers.  

The dog fell asleep guarding them, exhausted by wind and rain. Alas, his efforts were in vain. I swapped half of them for some fragrant quinces. Mr. P is not happy, since he loves potatoes, but I am delighted, since quinces are hard to come by. Quince jelly will follow. Apply here if interested! 

Yesterday I finally picked the pumpkin patch. From four plants, 23 pumpkins, all now lined up neatly on a tray in the greenhouse to cure. 

The most prolific were the Winter Squash Uchiki Kuri, followed by the Butternut Squash Hunter and Harrier F1 Hybrid. 

Picking these fat possums was probably my most rewarding moments in the garden this year. It's been so long waiting for them to grow and ripen. Then, in a few minutes, an autumn harvest worth savouring. Made my day. 

The ruined greenhouse
I have an old greenhouse which you could describe it as 'well-ventilated': it lacks a door and several glass panes, and the rabbits had set up shop beneath it, the better to bask in the warmth and snack on the weeds. 

But when a gardening friend pointed out that any growing space was precious, I decided to try growing something - anything - in it.  

Rescue efforts
Mr. P kindly removed the dusty old staging. I then weeded the soil, and as a short-term measure to banish both bunnies and weed, laid down some weed-suppressant membrane. 

Then I bought some large growbags from Unwins (Unwins Growbags) and filled them with compost. 

Now I'm growing salad leaves, and herbs like lovage and chervil, and hope to continue doing so into the autumn. I'm sourcing replacement glass planes from the local glazier to source replacement glass panes so that I can keep the greenhouse snug when the temperature really drops.

This year's success
The rescue effort was successful, and growing salad under glass has been a revelation. 

Initially I started with hot, peppery rocket, which was far spicier and sharper than any bought in store. We ate this in great quantities, scattered with capers and coated in dressing.

Then I became more adventerous. I sowed Red Mizuna, Mespoona, Lovage, Silene, and Sculpit (Silene inflata), as well as Chervil and Lovage. 

The Silene and Sculpit are an acquired taste. I like them, but other family members think they taste a bit too much of minerals and earth (or, less charitably, too much like a weed). The Mizuna and Mespoona are probably more to most people's taste. They taste more salad-like, and are reminiscent of mustard cress. The Mizuna, in particular, has a pleasantly crisp taste.


Enjoy your salad days!

Crab apple bounty
Last week I climbed up a rickety old step-ladder and filled my basket with crab apples.

The crab apple tree in the wild garden has had a bumper year. Of course, all the lovely ripe red ones are at the top of the tree, which is tall and hasn't been pruned in a decade or two. But I gathered a decent amount, including some windfalls, and set about making crab apple and mint jelly.

1. Fill a saucepan with crab apples and cover with water. Bring to the boil, and simmer well for about 30-45 minutes, depending on how ripe the fruit are, until the apples are soft and mushy. 

2. Place a muslin over a steel colander and drain the fruit for a few hours.

3. Add caster sugar to the liquid in a ratio of about 4:5. I weighed the crab apple liquid, which was 2kg, and added 1.8kg of sugar. 

4. Boil gently until the jelly thickens. Some recipes say this only takes 10 mins, but it took me about 30 mins. You can test this by placing a small amount on a saucer and leaving it to cool or placing in the fridge. If it sets lightly, the jelly is ready. Add several mint strands, and infuse.

5. Ladle the warm jelly into sterile glass jars, seal, and leave to cool.