Sticks of potential..

In between normal weekend routine stuff and rainfall, I managed to squeeze a couple of hours in the veg patch. There's mainly just clearing and tidying now, including putting away bags of compost until next year, emptying and cleaning pots, chopping back herbs that have flopped (and preserving for winter where possible).  All this in preparation for mulching and bulb planting.

So what's all this to do with the rhubarb?  The top herb bed was tidied a week ago (horseradish, a couple of mints, rosemary, fennel) and I'd planned to do the bottom herb bed yesterday - the pineapple sage and lovage had got blown over in the recent storms.  The sage got a stay of execution thanks to its glorious fuchsia pink flower spikes plus I got distracted on the way down the path by the enormous rhubarb.

It's a Glaskins Perpetual which I grew from seed in 2012, in a pot. It survived so, in early spring, I planted it out into the veg patch.  The patch isn't big so I dithered over where to put it (hence why it stayed in its pot for so long), in the end just plonking it into a large space.  It obviously loves where it is (heavily mulched clay soil) and is now enormous. All those big leaves are just the one plant!  Unfortunately it's overhanging the path so it was tidy up time for the rhubarb.

I've resisted picking any stalks this past year so that the plant could get established. (Leaves were about 3 inches high when planted out.) I haven't grown rhubarb before so I wasn't sure whether the plant died back in winter or got cut down.  I noticed that a few of the bottom stalks needed removing as they'd become brown and a bit mushy.  They pulled away easily which made me think that the whole plant would eventually die back to this state over the next few weeks.  I needed to take a few stems to clear the path anyway; these were originally destined for the compost but my curiosity got the better of me; I hate waste so I decided to chop just the leaves into the compost. The rest was brought up to the kitchen.

Happily, I've also got Sweet Cicely (Myrrhis odorata) growing here; a few chopped leaves added when cooking rhubarb reduces the amount of sugar needed. Although it's coming on for winter, there are new soft leaves on the Cicely so I picked a small bunch of those as well.  I half expected the rhubarb sticks to be inedible, tough, stringy and sour but no, not a bit of it.  Fifteen minutes after getting home, stems washed, chopped, poached with a spoonful of water plus one of sugar and a handful of finely chopped cicely leaves, I had myself a delicious dessert to go with supper.

Now here's the science: All rhubarb has high levels of oxalic acid (poisonous!) in the leaves and roots, less so in the stems; as temperatures become colder, oxalic acid migrates from the leaves back into the stems, making them poisonous to eat. With Glaskin's rhubarb, the oxalic acid levels in the stems stay very low throughout the length of the year so stems can be harvested from early summer through to late autumn.  Thus, it's become known as Glaskin's 'Perpetual'.

I'm not sure it was wise to pick so many stems as a certain amount are needed to build up the root for next year but there are still around half a dozen new little stalks on the plant.  I'll mulch it with well-rotted horse manure over winter (leaving the crown clear).  That should do it.  I may even have to grow another rhubarb plant - I've seen so many yummy sounding recipes!

And a final word of caution:  Never, ever, eat the leaves or root of rhubarb; they're poisonous and will make you feel most unwell!

I bought Glaskins Perpetual seeds from More Veg who supply a range of seeds in small quantities, perfect for the small space grower.

The beans, the cherries and the plague of ants

On Sunday evening I went to pick a few broad beans, as you do. 30 degrees of daily sunshine and enough water to stop the plants keeling over has given the beans a big boost and, in one week, they've gone from smallish pods to fat beans.  In short, they needed harvesting and I picked about 2 lbs (almost a kilo) of pods - more than I need so they'll be blanched and frozen. The plants are attracting a lot of blackfly now (despite being underplanted with nasturtiums) so I won't be sorry when the last few pods have ripened and I can clear the bed for winter veg.

Plenty left to ripen (or get eaten by birds) after I'd filled my basket.

It's the same story with the Morello cherries.  There are more cherries on the tree than in previous years. Yesterday evening I noticed that quite a lot were looking very tasty.  They had turned a lovely deep shade of lipstick red and I can't believe that the birds haven't stripped the trees already.  There's been a fair amount of maintenance work being done on the flats at the moment so perhaps the increase in busy-ness has kept them away.  Whatever the reason, I've seized the opportunity to start gathering the ripest ones and came away with 2.5 lbs of cherries yesterday.  I added these to the basket and left it on top of the border wall while I went back and forth with the watering can for an hour.

I thought that was it for the day, bar washing and bagging my haul but fate had one more trick in store for me.

Back indoors again, I put the basket down and noticed an ant creep out from underneath.  I squished it. Then another appeared ... then several. I lifted the basket - there was about 70 ants scuttling underneath!  I put the basket down and slapped at the ants with my hands, lifted it and slapped at the next plague of ants, and so on. A bit pointless to keep putting the basket down so finally my brain engaged and I put the basket in the sink and filled it with water.  As the ants struggled up to the top of the basket I was able to squish 'em.  So that whiled away the hour that I should have been podding my beans.  I can't bear ants indoors (or on me) so I had to give the kitchen (and basket) a good clean when I was sure I'd got them all; there must have been over 200 ants so I can only assume that I put the basket down near an ants' nest in the garden.  I've learned my lesson - gather the harvest and come straight home with it!!

Now I have to decide what to use my cherries for: a clafouti, jam or some cherry and almond muffins.  They're Morello cherries so quite sharp.  It'll probably be jam or compote, giving a taste of summer in the middle of winter and enough over to give a taste to neighbours.

Redcurrants (Jonkheer van Tets)

A couple of years ago, I bought this plant as a tiny £2 twig from a well known food supermarket - it's now about 3 feet tall! This is an aspect of gardening that I've come to love; buying small and watching the plant develop.  We no longer have a budget for this 'community' garden so all purchases are made from my pocket.  I don't mind as the rewards are endless but it does focus my eye on a bargain.

I'm growing it as an upright cordon as it had to be planted in quite a confined space. I've cut back new shoots growing from the base and mulched in the spring.  I'll prune again at the beginning of winter to cut out any new shoots and again back to two buds in spring.  Now that I know this works, I may well put another currant in.  I'd quite like a pink one next!

Slowly starting to ripen in the weekend sunshine.

This is the first year that the plant has fruited. I'm looking forward to these ripening as they're lovely in a fruit salad or jelly ... or, harking back to my mum's 'Fanny Cradock' days, dipped in egg white and caster sugar to top a cheesecake or sponge.  As redcurrants are full of pectin, I'm going to make jam,  pairing mine with strawberries as they're very low in pectin*.

NB.  Redcurrants are grown like gooseberries rather than blackcurrants.  If you fancy having a go, the RHS has an excellent guide on growing redcurrants here.

 ☺ *Pectin is the stuff you need to get a good set in jam making. Apologies if you know this already. I imagine most of you will.

We have fruit!

Braeburn apples

Earlier in the year, as gales threatened the prolific blossom on the fruit trees, I wondered whether the small numbers of bees would have had enough time to pollinate the blossom before it blew away.

Last year an early unseasonably warm spell followed by extended bad weather put paid to any fruit forming on the trees.  But this year I had optimistically hoped for a reasonable fruit harvest.

My fruit trees are now 4 or 5 years old and it can take several years for plums and pears to start cropping. The Braeburn apple trees gave us a small handful of fruit a couple of years ago (but nothing last year) and the Morello cherry trees seem to have fruited well but, who knows, most of the fruit falls or, I suspect, is eaten by birds. The pear and plum trees have never yielded a single fruit ... so far.

Last weekend, I was very excited to notice the signs of fruit to come. Raspberries, tons of strawberries (all the plants seem to be incredibly healthy this year), redcurrants, cherries, apples - but it looks like the plums and pears didn't make it ...

And to munch on in the meantime, a hedgerow snack of the seedpods of a rather beautiful Sweet Cicely plant. (If you like the taste of aniseed.)

Do you remember the lemon tree that I brought in from the cold 18 months ago? It continues to live behind glass on the stairwell outside my flat and has recently produced several flowers which are slowly becoming tiny lemons.  A novelty, I'm sure, but still lovely to see!

By next year, I hope I'll be able to add more fruit to this list as I've planted out a rhubarb (Glaskins Perpetual, grown from seed) which has taken very well, a red gooseberry bush and a Honeyberry bought new this year at the RHS show in February. I'm not expecting fruit this year but should have some strange bell-shaped blueberry tasting fruit  next year. It's a plant that Mark Diacono highly recommends in his book 'A Taste of the Unexpected' so expectations are high.

I've also added a Chilean Guava (Ugni molinae) earlier this year. It's growing in a pot so that it doesn't get overwhelmingly large - in due course these plants can reach 2 metres high in the right conditions. It fruits in the winter so that's another one to look forward to, possibly next year, hopefully this one.

Lastly, I've just planted out a Chinese Gooseberry (Physalis), grown from seed in a pot where it lived on my balcony last  year.  It has the most wonderfully soft, velvety leaves that I loved to stroke (!) so I'll miss it now that it's downstairs.  It didn't fruit so it's now gone outside where its roots can stretch out for nutrients and feed the plant to provide some flowers and then fruit.  It's perennial so hopefully won't grow too large! (and I can always grow another touchy-feely one for my balcony!)

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I've just realised that it's the end of the month - June! gone already!! - so I'll post twice today and try to get an end of month view up.

Typical British spring weather!

Two days ago, on popping down to the gardens, I was astonished by the sight of the blossom on the fruit trees.  The warm sunshine had brought on a display that would have done a bridal florist proud.  Waves of foaming white blossom graced both cherry trees; the apple blossom, although less prolific, was equally beautiful.

Yesterday, as with the rest of the UK, we were hit by gale force winds.  These have eased very slightly for today but I'm anticipating that there won't be much blossom left by the end of the weekend so I'm pleased that I took these photos for posterity.  Only time will tell if the flowers were pollinated in time to produce fruit this summer.  The pears and plums had already lost their blossom so I remain slightly hopeful of some of the trees producing.

For the past few years we've had a blast of warm weather followed by April showers and May gales.  I remember planting out my beans and sweet corn a couple of years ago after weeks of warm sunshine. The next day they were decimated by gale force winds and lashing rain and I had to resow.  This year, I'm being more cautious - I still have lots of seedlings on my balcony. They must go into the garden soon so, once the winds have died down, a nice bout of British late spring weather will do me nicely - and by that I mean cooler temperatures - around 12C (54F) - and plenty of showers.  I've appreciated the warm sunshine while it lasted but now it would be nice to return to a gentle move towards summer.  Well, a gardener can dream ... this is British weather, after all. (And Chelsea flower show starts in 10 days which is pretty well guaranteed to mix the weather up!)

It's all bloomin' lovely!

I've spent the weekend sowing seeds and heaving out weeds.  I was in the garden by 8 a.m. on Sunday morning, appreciating the stillness and warm sun on my back.  It felt really good to be outside without a  woolly hat and warm coat, reconnecting with the garden and taking the time to really take stock of what was going on.

After the big Weed Out: 16.5 square metres of weed free tidiness, ready for planting.

Mostly it was a case of clearing the weeds (Hairy Bittercress and Chickweed) from the fruit tree border - a job that brought me up close to the blossom on the trees as I have to clamber into the walled border.  There's no rain or frost forecast for at least the next 10 days and the warm weather has certainly got the bees buzzing around.  I am therefore quietly optimistic of having some fruit this year.

One of the cherry trees - a Morello - was relocated to a walled corner last year (just seen in the distance, by the steps); its blossoms are already open.

The other Morello has hundreds of buds just waiting to unfurl...

The apple trees, both Braeburn, didn't produce one solitary fruit last year.  This year I've counted 12 clusters of blossom on one tree alone.  I'll keep an eye on these; if they all pollinate, I'll need to thin some of the fruit later on.  It's the same story with the pears and plums which is just wonderful.

Throughout the garden I'm finding self-seeded Orach (Atriplex rubra) also known as Mountain Spinach.

It's both an edible and ornamental, with edible young leaves - salads or cooked like spinach - and the most glorious bright pink seed pods later in the year.  I bought one tiny plant at an NGS plant sale a couple of years ago. Last year a transplanted self-seeder grew to over 8 feet tall; the dried seed pods looked so wonderful that I left them in situ and the wind has done the rest.  The seedlings can easily be pulled out if unwanted or transplant really well. I shall, of course, keep several for my Salad Challenge.

Can I just indulge and show off these two beauties?  The Cerinthe (aka Honeywort) seed blew into a pot of Lemon Balm last year, grew to a foot high, just about survived the winter and has revived itself to flower early.  One of my absolute favourite flowers, I love the glaucous leaves and purple flowers and grow them to provide food for the bees so that they'll home in and find my beans in the process.

And, lastly, an Aquilegia I bought recently - another Morrison's bargain - that has established really well into my new shady border.  I can't get over how pretty it is and stop to look every time I pass by - which is kind of the point in planting up a border previously used as a cat toilet/rubbish dump.

Btw, that was definitely not a 15 minute blog post! Too many photos. Just came in under one hour. Ah well.

Time to throw out the rule book

~ Cherry blossom in August, with ripe cherries on other branches. Confusing? certainly ~

Every year is a learning curve in the garden and this one is certainly no exception.  I read only yesterday that August is the last chance to trim hedges before the autumn frosts.  I was quite taken aback at this as, for me, the summer has only just got going. Plants such as courgettes, cucumbers, hyacinth beans and squashes that have been quietly waiting for some warmth have suddenly started to shoot away.  The cucumbers are putting on a rapid growth spurt, as are the beans. Canadian wonder beans are producing enough for dinner every day; so delicious as young pods but I had intended to grow these for the red kidney beans inside!

Without dwelling on the weather so far this year, my belief is that the seasons have shifted slightly; I'm optimistically expecting another slow decline into autumn, just as we had last year. Jekka McVicar told me earlier this year that she no longer cuts back her lavender in autumn, preferring to leave it until the air has warmed slightly in the early spring. Cutting it back in a warm autumn promotes new growth and confuses the plant, leaving it vulnerable to winter frosts.  She stated that she no longer relies on the old rules and given wisdom because the seasons have noticeably changed. Coming from someone whose business and reputation relies on interpreting the seasons correctly, hers is an opinion that I take note of.

Global warming is definitely affecting the gardening calendar and we have to make adjustments accordingly. Personally, I'm trying to garden instinctively, being prepared to experiment a bit and remaining stoic about any losses along the way. In this way, I haven't lost plants to water rot or slug damage this year but everything is very behind in it's growth. Except the sunflowers and herbs which are perennial or self-seeded.

If my prediction for the autumn comes true, that would mean 90 or more days of reasonably warm weather before any cold winter snaps visit the garden - bearing in mind that I live in London, in the South East of the UK.  Of course the light levels will diminish as days get shorter, so any planting done now would have to be in the brightest areas of the garden.  I'm fortunate that the veg patch gets a good seven hours of sun/light at this time of year.  The north-east facing walled border gets around 5 hours but the fruit trees planted there partly shade the earth beneath anyway.  (One of my winter jobs is to move a couple more fruit trees, especially as the cherry tree re-established itself so successfully this year.)

I pulled the last of the Little Finger carrots this week - they are by far the tastiest I've grown and I've just received a new bag of seeds to sow a new crop which should be ready by mid-October. The Amsterdam Sprint carrots will keep me going but the taste is not quite as delicious.  I'm also going to put in more dwarf beans (Canadian Wonder and Annabelle french beans), mange tout and salad leaves. It may not work but, on the other hand, my cherry tree thinks it's spring!

Edited to add:  I sowed mangetout, dwarf beans and giant sugar peas 2 days ago on the 8th; this morning, the 11th, they are showing through the soil.  :)

Traybake: Summer Soft-fruit Cake

Faced with a day off work in order to catch up with paperwork and gardening, what did I do? Make cake, of course. Procrastination is such fun.

A mug of tea and a slice of cake is one of the great rewards after a good potter round the plot and as the veg patch is at least offering up soft fruits at the moment, this recently discovered cake sprang to mind today. I haven't done a recipe on the blog for a long time but, I hope you'll agree, this one is worth sharing, especially as the summer may be on its way finally and tea in the garden can take its rightful place once more.

I found this cake via Pinterest; it's originally baked with just blueberries and called Buttermilk Blueberry Breakfast Cake. While my renaming of the adapted cake is not so alliterative, it tells it like it is. This is a cake that celebrates the soft fruit harvest of the summer kitchen garden. I used mostly blueberries, topped up with raspberries, strawberries (and, this time, sweet cherries); with lemon zest, vanilla and buttermilk, it's full of subtle flavours - I also used some of my lavender sugar* for the top crust.

Baked in a square tin, it looks like a traybake; the crisp sugar crusted top yields to a light, moist crumb with bursts of soft fruit.  Because I've now made it twice, I know that it's also heavenly warmed through and served with cream or custard as a pudding.

The original recipe came from this American blog; I've reworked it to grams rather than cups. Interestingly, I first made it to be shared with someone who is dairy intolerant so it was made with dairy free sunflower spread to replace the butter and soya milk instead of buttermilk. It worked perfectly.

Blueberry, etc, traybake cake:

100g sunflower spread or butter

200g caster sugar (keep a couple of spoonfuls back for the top)

Finely grated zest of a largish lemon

1 medium egg

1 teaspoon vanilla (extract not flavouring)

300g self raising flour

½ tsp baking powder

300g fresh soft fruit, eg. 200g blueberries plus 100g strawberries/raspberries, etc

140ml Buttermilk (about half a carton)

1. Preheat oven to 350F or 180C. Cream butter, lemon zest and sugar until light and fluffy.

2. Add the egg and vanilla.  Beat well.

3. Take out a couple of spoonfuls of the flour and gently toss the soft fruit in this.

4. Mix the remaining flour, baking powder and salt together; Add to the batter a little at a time, alternating with the buttermilk.

5. Fold in the blueberries/strawberries/other fruit.

6. Line an 8" square tin with baking parchment, spoon the cake mix in and sprinkle a good tablespoon of sugar over the top. Pop into the oven, middle shelf.  I check the cake with a skewer after 20 minutes and it always needs another 5 minutes. Adjust the time in 5 minute increments for your own oven. (The original recipe calls for a 9" pan and 35 minutes; in my oven this would be a disaster so I err on the side of caution.)

7. Allow to cool in the pan for 10 minutes before lifting the cake out onto a cooling rack.

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* Lavender sugar is a lovely thing to have for use in the kitchen, it gives a subtle flavour to cakes, biscuits, etc. Karen at Lavender and Lovage has a nice easy post on how to make your own.

Too Soon to Prune ...

I'd earmarked November as being my month for thinking about fruit. I need to move half of my 3 year old fruit trees to space them out more and I also want to order more: a couple of apple trees, a peach tree, some blueberry bushes and two sweet cherry trees. No problems there because the milder weather will make the work much easier than digging and planting in the biting cold.

I'd also thought pruning would be on the task list by now but no.  The cherries are the only fruit trees that are dropping their leaves. Plums, apples and pears are still fully clothed.  The raspberries that I've grown are late fruiting Autumn Bliss - they started fruiting in August and are still providing the odd handful. In any case, I've read that autumn raspberry canes should be left until 'late winter' when they can be cut to the ground. What does that mean? Does late winter mean calendar December or, more likely, when truly cold and frosty weather is upon us?  Do the canes drop their leaves so that I know for sure? Help! For me, late winter is the last cold month to get through before temperatures start to rise, possibly late January/early February. Could anyone shed any light on this for me?

Pruning is a subject I knew very little about until recently.  (I'm reviewing an excellent book with very good chapters on this subject, more very soon.) As luck would have it, last Sunday afternoon I was invited to join a fruit pruning workshop in a local community garden behind a block of council flats. Fruit trees planted there a couple of years back by the Carbon Army (BCTV volunteers) had never been pruned so the council had booked a mid-November tree pruning workshop for the tenants. Problem was, with weather still continuing to be mild (for this time of year), we weren't able to tackle much. The only bushes that were obviously ready were the gooseberry bushes which looked like bleached thorny twigs.

Tom shows a workshop participant how to prune gooseberries.

We wandered around looking hopefully at redcurrants, blackcurrants, peach trees and espaliered apple trees, all holding onto their autumn leaves, and were advised that it was best to put our secateurs away. Tom Moggach from City Leaf was our teacher for the workshop and, having explained about the best time to prune different fruit trees and bushes, the hows and whys of shaping an espaliered fruit tree and airborne fungal diseases, he then told us of the 3 D's of pruning (dead, dying, diseased, all should be pruned out) and demonstrated how to shape.  We were let loose on the gooseberry bushes, pruning out any of the 3 D's and crossing stems, cutting back the strong leader stems by one-third (to an outward facing bud) and then trimming back any other stems to two buds (again, looking for a bud that would enhance the open basket shape of the bush). Tenants said that these gooseberry bushes had fruited well in the summer and were loathe to chop them back too much but Tom explained that this would promote healthy growth for next season, allowing air to circulate through the centre of the bush and so reducing the risk of any problems from pest or fungal infection.  It was really satisfying to get hands on with the job and I think it all looked much tidier when we'd finished!

It was a very informative couple of hours but I'd really gone along to have a look at the gardening space (and available light) as one of the tenants has asked for a bit of help with growing vegetables next year.  I have to say, I think she's doing a pretty good job by herself (wonderful nasturtiums, made into pesto for the winter picnic) but the trade-off was being able to see pruning in action.  I'm much better off actually seeing something being done (and being able to ask questions, if needed, to confirm that I've got the idea). I've come away feeling that my book learning has been reinforced and, yes, have the confidence to know what I'm doing with my trees (once the leaves fall off!).

Saturday Snap: Cherries in the rain

The weather here in North London over the last few days has been, on the whole, overcast grey skies yielding to heavy rain or drizzle. Sunshine has been rare or fleeting which makes me think that either they're having wonderful weather in the Midlands or that Gardeners World Live, held at the NEC in Birmingham and screened on BBC2 last night, was filmed earlier in the week - say, on Tuesday, when the sun shone for most of the day.

Yesterday was another on/off rainy day here and, as I meandered around the veg patch, the brilliant pop of colour provided by the cherries and strawberries really caught my attention. The cherries appear to colour up more each day and, as I weeded around the base of the trees, a cheeky sparrow crept up to peck at the fruit. Definitely time to get the nets out.  (Overdue, I know!) It was starting to rain more heavily so I nipped home for my jacket and grabbed my camera at the same time. So this is a Friday-Saturday Snap, it being too windy to photograph the heads of my fennel this morning.  Hope it cheers up the weekend for you all!

Don't be fooled by the tempting appearance of these fruits - Morello Cherries are sour and best for making pies and jam. I made the mistake of eating one last year - most unpleasantly, it really was sour!

Fruit...

Actually, I rather wanted to title this post 'Pomiculture' but that word relates to the cultivating - as well as growing - of fruit which, here, is not strictly true.  Although I think I can make an exception where my lemon trees (now solitary tree) are concerned.

The lemon trees were a bit of an experiment;  the decision to purchase a couple of frost-hardy specimens was more out of curiosity for the exotic than any real belief of seeing lemons in London. Not that we're totally gullible but if it says 'Easy to Grow' on the label, we trust that's what we'll get.  Last summer the leaves were a real hit with the children - they give off a wonderful citrus odour when squeezed firmly.  (I love to do a squeeze'n'sniff, or taste, guessing game with the kids, especially in the herb patch.) Delicate white flowers almost bulked up into Lilliputian lemons but were annihilated by strong winds.  After my winter of discontent with the Veg Patch, one tree was definitely a goner with the other having some green-ish stems mixed in among the brown ones.  A bit of pruning supplemented by lots of recent sunshine and things are beginning to look up again - we have leaves!  By my standards, this is promising.

Other fruit has fared slightly better:  apple trees stripped of any potential fruit last year are now, quite definitely, plumping up for a summer showing:

Ditto with the Morello cherry trees which are positively dripping with fruit - and raindrops!



Strawberries on Leigh's allotment (with all day sunshine) are ripening slightly ahead of the Veg Patch strawberries.



As the Veg Patch strawberries were transplanted in early April, this has probably set them back a little, although there are plenty of flowers so we'll see - perhaps giving us an extended, if inadvertent, strawberry season.

I have 10 raspberry canes that are new to the Veg Patch this year, as is the redcurrant, and so it's too early to tell if they're settling in nicely - new leaves but not much else. Two survivors from our first (2009) raspberry order have just started showing Proof of Life by way of tiny drupelets. The first year canes (primocanes) have been replaced with second year fruit bearing canes (floricanes):



I noticed those two ants after I'd taken the photo! Has anyone else noticed large numbers of ants this year? I'm even seeing them on my balcony which is unusual, although probably lifted there by way of the sage plant I had to resuscitate.

Blueberries are into their second year and are definitely confused. They should be bushing up nicely but are like a row of debutantes that have come out in their pearls and underwear, i.e. hardly any leaves but masses of bijou berries. Bizarrely, the bushiest blueberry is the one that is sharing it's pot with two self-seeded foxgloves. Either it's roots are enjoying the shade or it just likes having company. All parts of a foxglove are poisonous and I wonder if close proximity will affect the blueberry fruit? Not sure I'll be eating from that particular tree, or letting the children sample the fruit!



A quick backward glance at last year's fruit list shows that my trip to Capital Growth's soft fruit growing workshop has influenced my choices this year as I've added a redcurrant to the Patch and also have melon seeds sprouting! I saw melon growing in the Regent's Park allotment last August so know that it is possible to grow it outdoors here, and have chosen 'Blacktail Mountain' early watermelon (very small red fruits) and also Minnesota Midget, a small canteloupe melon which has to be started off in a heated propagator. Hopefully there'll be more to tell about these in the End of May round up.

Buddies ...

I'm well behind in the sowing stakes and the weather has been very mild for March (at least in London) so whereas fellow gardeners have got off to a flying start, I'm still drawing up plans of what I can grow in the available space.

I don't have a greenhouse so all my sowing has to be on the kitchen windowsill (not much room), on the balcony (until recently, a pigeon roost) or outside (still a few frosty nights).  So I'm going to unashamedly  show off* some more blossoming fruit:  these are a few of the many fruit buds on my blueberries.  We've got four blueberry bushes in total, growing in huge pots as they like acid soil.

These are second year bushes, and we had a small quantity of fruit last year (briefly seen, before the children swooped) so this year, the nets are out and the hopes are high!

You might like to know...

• Blueberry bushes are very easy to grow, needing only to be planted in ericaceous soil.
• Fertilise in the spring, after the leaves have emerged from the buds, with an ericaceous fertiliser, such as used for azaleas or rhododendrons. 
• Net in the summer as the fruit forms.
• Prune when the plant is dormant in the winter months.  Fruit grows on second year wood so to encourage a bushy habit and more fruit, some pruning is needed.

(*Please excuse the split infinitive, it just doesn't read well when grammatically correct!)

Thrilled ...

I have to tell you I'm feeling highly delighted today;  Would you just look at this blossom!  This Conference Pear was planted as part of the 'mini-orchard' in November 2009 on a bitterly cold day, immediately after clearing the choking ivy.  After an anxious wait through snow-filled winter days, a few buds proved it had survived its first winter.  Not much else happened in 2010.  After seeing this, I'm tentatively looking forward to eating some delicious home-grown pears from this 18 month old tree later this year.

Stuff you might like to know...

• The pear trees were supplied on semi-dwarf rootstock so shouldn't grow taller than 10 feet.  (A pear tree in a nearby park is SO tall you couldn't reach the fruit even with a high ladder!)  The planting holes were part filled with good rich compost as the existing soil in the walled flower borders was pretty tired.  
• Fruit trees should be left for their first year, with all blossom pruned off, so that all energy goes into establishing a strong root system.  
• Second year trees may need feeding with potassium (for fruit and flowers) and/or nitrogen for growth. I'll use dried poultry pellets for our pear trees which is the organic option.  They'll also benefit from deep mulching around the tree with organic matter (such as leaf mould or garden compost) in mid to late spring but make sure the mulch is applied at least 10cm away from the tree to stop the bark rotting.  This will help to preserve moisture around the roots in the summer. 
• RHS offers more detailed advice on this topic here.

Sunshine and soft fruits…

 ~ Carrots, leeks, courgettes, tagetes, cabbage, runner beans, tomatoes ~

:: The Regent's Park Allotment::

Being of a very curious nature, I do love a good nosey around other gardens and allotments. I find inspiration everywhere: the planting, the colours, the layout, clever use of discarded items… So, it was with a carefree heart that I pedalled off last Saturday to a half-day training in the Regent's Park allotment run by Capital Growth and Capel Manor College. The sun was shining as I cycled through the park, a highly enjoyable but somewhat rebellious act due to it being Not Allowed. (Why is that, I wonder? Children who won't walk any distance will often cycle happily, thereby allowing families to embrace the Great Outdoors together.)

But I digress…   my hopes and expectations for the day were fully met:  an excellent and comprehensive training in Growing and Preserving Soft Fruits was provided by Tom from City Leaf (with handouts, which was lucky as I would never have remembered it all).  In three short hours we covered the four Ps (Planting, Pruning, Propagation and Preserving) in relation to a range of soft fruits: gooseberries, red/white currants vs blackcurrants, strawberries, blackberries, blueberries and raspberries.  Whew - feeling hungry yet?  As if that wasn't enough, we also briefly looked at ways of training fruit, veering off into the realms of cordoned and espaliered apples.

~ Garden of Eden? ~

I must admit my motivation for going was to get access to an Idiot's Guide to Growing Raspberries as our canes didn't do well this year.  Poor little things. I now know that this is due to a combination of not planting soon enough (nor heeling in), not preparing the site well beforehand (it was nearly Christmas and we were desperate), not giving them enough space and also the poor plants being choked by weeds from a neighbouring patch. We'd literally plonked them into the soil in a spare corner of Leigh's allotment as the Veg Patch was not ready for them.  See?  Loads of info.  I'm going to replace the canes and, this time, lavish care and attention on them. 

We also looked at successfully growing grapes in an urban environment (apparently London is now warm enough for this, which is great  news).  Their grapes looked luscious:

And in anticipation of the wonderful harvest we'll all have next  year, and in case any of it actually reaches our kitchens (mine will all be eaten as it ripens by the children), our group was introduced to preserving your soft fruit harvest by a local guest speaker; a wonderful woman who brought along some of her produce and made it sound so easy.  She scotched several myths:  no, she doesn't use special preserving sugar (juice of a lemon will serve instead, if needed), blackberries do not set well on their own (throw in a Bramley) and the original jam jar lids are just as good as the cellophane/rubber band option, if properly cleaned. Mantra: Cleanliness is all when preserving!

I spotted this wonderful 1970s cookbook (Readers Digest, I think) on the table at the end.  It caught my eye, set against the jars of chutney and melons grown in the allotment.  Yes! Melons are possible in the UK - we had some of these fruits during the break. (Delish.) The allotment has an open aspect, sheltered by fencing on the North and East sides, with the melon vines planted at the southern end.

Elsewhere, other vegetables were all still flourishing and ripening (the carrots! the rhubarb! the beans! giant tomatoes!). You'll recognise the asparagus in the above photo - a huge bed of it, with ripening berries.  The volunteer gardeners try to nip them off when they turn red and before they burst and scatter the seeds.  Bare patches in the beds were explained by the recent harvesting of the butternut squash which was set to one side in baskets - there was an open day 'Harvest Cook Off' the following day (at least I hope so as the weather had turned wet by then).

The entire allotment was full of inspiration, if excessively tidy (but then they are on permanent view to the public).  Companion planting abounded:  Basil and cabbages, crimson nasturtiums under the runner beans and around the rhubarb,  and bright orange tagetes were planted (and interplanted) everywhere - around tomatoes, apples, beans, herbs - and doing a fantastic job of bringing in the bees.

But I especially l-o-v-e-d the use of recycling:  peppers, tomatoes and herbs grew in large empty white Italian tomato cans, an old Royal Parks watering can had been planted with herbs, and … the best bit for me …  the fibreglass poles from a defunct tent used to hold up netting.  I'm SO pinching that idea!

There, I think I've rambled on long enough.  It's worth a visit if you find yourself near Regents Park and also very handy the Cow and Coffee Bean Café. (Here's the Google map link). I took far too many photographs and am now making a Flickr page so, once the link is up, pop over there if you want to see more!

Blueberry buds …

Loving the colours in this photo.

Here's one of our blueberry bushes, waiting to be planted on, but braving the December cold with a few little buds.  Photo snapped on Sunday evening as we put our tools away and an unexpected ray of late afternoon sunshine hit the allotments.

Another milestone reached …

(Photo: The Veg Patch in  February 2009)

… from this,

to this…

(Photo: The Veg Patch in December 2009)

I eagerly await the time when gardening will be a question of doing what you can, when you can.  But for the York Rise group, still in our first year of battling with years of garden neglect, it's about crossing off tasks from our 'To Do' list.  And remember what the big one was?  Yep, the ivy.  But I have great news!  The Orchard Border has been cleared!  The sense of achievement (not to mention relief) in the aftermath of the weekend is huge. 

With forecasts of an imminent freeze, and a miraculous window appearing in the work schedule of a neighbour with well-honed gardening muscles (heh heh)*, my plans to deck the halls indoors were shelved in favour of a weekend of ivy clearance.  L's text alerted me that she'd made a start at midday on Saturday.  I joined her (…eventually - I didn't see the text straightaway, oops) and by dusk, we'd just about hacked and chopped our way through to the soil …

(Photo: Ivy debris at dusk.  A bit blurry, not really enough light.)

leaving the debris to be transported down to the recycling centre to be made into organic compost on Sunday - which we will, no doubt, be buying back in its transformed state.

(Photo: first trip of 5.  In this pic, back seat down and boot only half full!)

Sunday dawned bright but very cold and the team worked on through overcast skies, bitter winds, large mugs of tea, scrumptious bacon butties (heaven sent from L's kitchen) and neglected families until all was done - bar one last trip to recycling.

So now to the big reveal…!  We proudly present the York Rise Mini Orchard, consisting of 2 pear trees (Conference), 2 apple trees (Braeburn), 2 plum trees (Victoria), 2 cherry trees (Morello) - and a little bit of the ivy left in place for decorative effect:

Now for the blueberries and raspberries!

* I really shouldn't be dwelling on the muscles of our digging neighbour - I just remembered my mother is an occasional reader of this blog!

An elegance of lemons …

Still enthralled by my fine dining experience, I had to share this little bit of table elegance as it's something I haven't come across before. (I realise that I may be proving exactly how far removed my wellies really are from the rarefied kingdom of Martha Stewart devotees!)

Whenever the option of a squeeze of lemon has been presented to me, it's usually in the form of a slab of lemon on the side of my plate. At Fortnum's on Sunday, those who ordered smoked salmon as a starter received, as a garnish, half a lemon wrapped in muslin cloth and tied with an olive organza ribbon. Not only did this look very beautiful - and so refined! - turns out it's also enormously practical. The pips stay within the muslin and only you get the juice, as the muslin directs it to drip  onto your plate, rather than into the eyes of your fellow diners! Plus you can grip the lemon more easily and you get less lemon oil from the rind over your hands (however pleasant it may smell). The cost of the meal was probably worth that top tip alone. So obvious, but, wow, I just love that.  Oh, and by the way, that funny shaped bread at the back of the photo?  Reindeer's antlers, of course …! (Before being eaten - too yummy to ignore.)