Perfecting the art of growing big gooseberries in a small space

This past week the last of the gooseberries have been picked (a bit later than usual, the weather has been so unhelpful this year) and now it's time to reshape the plants with a summer pruning.  

This was supposed to be done in early July but I'm banking on everything being a bit late this year.  And, flushed with the success of squeezing two more gooseberry plants into my overstuffed garden, I want to make sure they're trained properly.

In my gardens I have four red gooseberry bushes - one bush, two fans and one in a pot that's been ambushed by sawfly again this year. 

Gooseberries were never my favourite fruit; at school I couldn't stand the stewed (green) gooseberries served up under soggy pastry as pudding. Not any more though - these days I happily eat beautiful ripe Hinnonmaki Red gooseberries straight from the bush ... the jury is still out on the green ones though!

Having seen gooseberry bushes pruned into an open bowl shape during my garden design studies, I followed suit for my first gooseberry bush.  It enjoyed its spot in my veg patch but, confession time, I didn't prune regularly so it grew large and tangled albeit with abundant berries. So now I'll prune this week to start reshaping it and again at the usual time  in winter while it's dormant.  

I acquired a second tiny plant, and then a third and, finally, a fourth.  Where to put them all?  They languished happily in 5 litre pots for a good while. As ever, my impulse to buy plants had got the better of me.  

A good idea

And then I rescued lengths of slim bendy plastic pipe from a builder's skip. These were destined to be arches to support the fleece over my veg but it occurred to me that I could use them to train my gooseberry bushes into freestanding fans. (Fans are usually grown against a wall or fence.) The plants were moved from their pots and they're now in the car park garden, growing in semi-shade, regularly watered and fruiting prolifically thanks to the beautiful soil there.  The fruit is more visible, the thorns less threatening (more easily seen and thus avoided!). 

But in doing so, I had to learn to prune correctly... with sturdy leather gloves on!

Pruning ... aka shaping the beasts!

Gooseberries fruit on old wood; to grow in a fan shape any stems growing out, rather than up, should be pruned back to the framework - which in this case are the five tall stems tied in to the arch.  Gooseberries growing in an open bowl shape should have inward growing branches and any branches trailing on the ground removed, all being taken back to an outward growing bud and the main stem at ground level left clear of any growth - cut off stems below 10-15 cm.  (Imagine a goblet shape glass on a very short stem.)

Gooseberry bushes have vicious spiky thorns so keeping the centre open, or space between the fanned out branches, helps with easier access to the fruit in summer. And good airflow helps to prevent mildew.  

How I planted my fan gooseberries 

Having planted the 'bushes' and pushed the hoops deeply into the soil 2 feet (60cm) apart, I tied the long upright stems in a fan shape and pruned the rest back to two buds. This would have been quite traumatic for the plant so, after pruning, they were watered and mulched around (not up to) the base. 

How to get bigger berries

In early summer when the fruits have appeared it's time to direct the plant's energy into quality rather than quantity.  So, as with thinning out top fruit (apples, etc) to get bigger fruit, the same is true of gooseberries. Reduce the number of berries as they start to ripen so that the plant concentrates on developing those that remain.  The underripe berries needn't be wasted as, although still hard and quite tart, they can be used for savoury sauces, mixed berry jams (usefully high in pectin!) and chutneys. It's not essential to do this but if you want bigger gooseberries, take two pickings a month or so apart. 

Here's some I grew earlier ... 

And what of Hinnonmaki #4?  

The fate of this plant is undecided. Growing in a large pot, its leaves have been eaten two summers running by sawfly and now a Cape Gooseberry aka Inca Berry, Ground Cherry or Physalis peruviana is taking over the pot. I have no idea where this interloper came from but I like it! 

And, by the way, despite the similarity of nomenclature, Cape Gooseberries are related to tomatoes, peppers and potatoes (the Solanaceae family) and not ordinary gooseberries which fall into the Ribes (ie currant) family.  So now you know.

Carry On sowing! Crops for autumn, winter and beyond to sow NOW

It's been a pretty disastrous year for veg growing in my patch and this morning, late July, it feels positively autumnal. (Not in a good way.) But I've been through my seed packets and found potential for quite a lot of late summer sowings. By taking advantage of the (relatively) warm and wet weather currently in play here in London, I'll have quick growing crops in the next few months, plus winter leaves and spring harvests.

Just a small selection of what can be grown this autumn!

I don't usually give much thought to late summer sowing at this time of year (there's usually plenty more to be getting on with, like picking, freezing, pickling) and I also have balcony sown crops waiting to go out (kale, beetroot, spring onions) ... but this year there's precious little to harvest.  However, accentuating the positive, I'm excited to realise exactly how much growing is still possible. 

Erring slightly on the optimistic side, I've sorted food seeds into chronological piles: Last Chance for sowing, Sow By end of August, Sow By the end of September and Balcony Baby Leaves.  This way, I can pace myself and sow when I have/make time. And, of course, there's also seeds to sow in the next few weeks for flowers.  

Last Chance ...

Dwarf Beans.  As my broad beans produced only a few usable pods and my french and runner beans were annihilated by a dastardly extreme heat:no water combo, I'm going to take a gamble on sowing some Dwarf Beans. The best results are from sowing between May and early July but as they're fast maturing, I may just get a harvest by the end of October.  I'm sowing Elba from Mr Fothergill seeds for round stringless pods and 'Atlanta' from Johnsons seeds for flat pods that promise to have a crisp texture and excellent snap. Yum!

I've also added peas to this category as I remember sowing Kelvedon Wonder peas late one year and having many pods to pick before winter.  This time I'm trying 'Champion of England' from D T Brown seeds.  

And I mustn't forget carrots.  I was harvesting a summer sowing in December last year so it's well worth sowing these, particularly Amsterdam Sprint (Mr Fothergill seeds) for sweet baby carrots. These should be ready in under 3 months, so I may do a couple of successional sowings.

Balcony Baby Leaves ...

aka Cut and Come Again.  Always useful to have an instant salad bar to hand but it doesn't matter if this doesn't go to plan, it's a good way to use up seeds which may or may not still be viable ... and seeds that should have been sown much earlier.  So for baby salad leaves, into my window box planters will go peas (for pea shoots), spinach, red kale, Cavolo Nero kale, mustard leaf, little gem lettuce and fancy salad leaves.  I could also throw in a few herb seeds like chervil and coriander.

Sow By End of  August ...

It looks like I'll be busy during the next few weeks (the sooner sown the better).  Pink stemmed chard, winter spinach, spring onions, radish, saltbush (Sea Orach), lettuce, lamb's lettuce (corn salad) and Kohl Rabi are all on my list.  Another early veg patch success was a bed full of parsley, vigorously sown by the children here, which flourished after a downpour of warm rain shortly after sowing.  So parsley (curly and flat leaved) is going in, as is Coriander (crops in 6 weeks, allegedly).

Sow by the End of September ...

According to packet instructions, it's okay to sow seeds for kales, pepper cress, onions and breadseed poppies from now to the end of September. These won't be ready this year but I can look forward to earlier crops next year.  And if there's any space left, I'll pop in some rocket, radishes and turnips for an early winter crop this year.  

Flowers ...

It's well known that intercropping flowers with veg not only makes the veg patch pretty but has the added benefit of keeping pollinators happy.  Flowers that drop their seeds in late summer can be sown now - foxgloves, nigella, poppies, calendula, cerinthe and poached egg plant (Limnanthes).  The nigella I'm sowing is called Black Caraway (Mr Fothergill seeds) - the seeds can be used in cooking and I save the seed pods for decoration.  

After the challenges of this year, I admit I have entertained thoughts of planting perennial flowers and having done with it. But could I bring myself to do that? Probably not.  My secret passion, like most veg growers, is munching my way around the garden, nibbling at gooseberries, peas, radishes, et al. And the satisfaction in bringing freshly harvested fruit and veg - yes, even courgettes - back to the kitchen is addictive. And so, of course, the work continues.  

Prunella - weed or wonder?

Once again, Prunella vulgaris, aka Self Heal, has returned to the veg patch with renewed vigour. It's a perennial, an enthusiastic self-seeder, low growing, edible, medicinal and a food source for bees. Sounds good, yes?

Photo via Google Creative Commons licence from Wallpaper Flare

I sowed seeds for this about ten years ago because of its appeal to bees and other pollinators and since then it has sporadically re-appeared over the years to fill cracks in the brick paths.  

Initially I was drawn to the look of the flowers and their appeal to pollinators. Its flower stems should reach a height of at least six inches but, in the drought conditions of my veg patch, flowers remained tucked among the leaves and it looked more like a weed between the paths.  A few were left to make the paths look inhabited but most were dug out of the borders.

More recently I have had to reevaluate my opinion of this plant as I've discovered what a useful herb this is - both medicinal and edible.  Like so many herbs, they're not just tasty but have hidden benefits (see my post on Immuni-tea!).  I've not yet tasted Prunella but will remember to try a few of its leaves in my salad in future ...  although bearing in mind that the leaves are best picked in spring or early summer. (So late July is possibly a bit late in the season for first tastes.) 

Prunella has a common name of Selfheal or Heal All.  It's antibacterial, antiviral, edible and a useful summer herb for bites and stings when made into a decoction, ie, steeped in boiling water. I've been nibbled several times in this hot weather so that's definitely good to know! 

Another of Prunella's folk names is Carpenter's Herb, so called for its effectiveness in healing cuts; this makes it a good herb for me in my gardening work as I'm regularly nicked by rose thorns and pyracantha!  

If you like the sound of this useful herb, more can be learned about it here and seeds bought from Jekka's Herbs. I, for one, will definitely be resowing more Prunella next spring or looking to propagate a few plants by division.

Improving and re-nutrifying my clay based soil with PeatFree mulches

Peat based composts will be banned for domestic markets from 2027 although trade growers can use peat based products until 2030, if they so wish. This is good news for peat bogs and the wildlife they support but would have been even better if UK's government had kept to their original deadline of banning peat products from 2024. Thankfully, there is now quite a range of good peat-free composts available to buy and I've been privileged to use several of them. A few years ago, peat-free composts were no contest for more traditional peat based ones but a lot of research has gone into improving peat-free and I've found they're now pretty good.  

Some of the top names to look out for are Melcourt/Sylvagrow, Dalefoot, RocketGro - all of which I've used in my own gardens and in client gardens.  Two more that I found this year are from Newleaf composts (in Northern Ireland) and Brontë. I smiled at the name when chatting to one of the founders of Brontë ... were they from Yorkshire, I wondered? No, they're both from Lancashire - Colne and Darwen, both of which I've visited - and adopted the Brontë name due to their relative proximity to Haworth, the Brontë family's historic home village. Memorable. 

But I digress.

Mulching ...

Earlier this year I used SylvaGrow Farmyard soil improver as a mulch over the veg patch beds; last year I used home made compost from my Hotbin composter and in the years before, Dalefoot Lakeland Gold.  All are 100% peat free and I can already see the positive difference these additions have made to my soil.  

A word of caution: I look out for 100% peat free products as it's important not to fall for 'peat reduced' or 'organic' composts. Products are not guaranteed peat free unless specifically stated!

Mulching is not something I bothered with in the very early veg patch days as we used raised beds over the hard clay soil; those early raised beds have mostly been removed now in favour of maximising space and planting straight into improved soil. 

Which is where mulching comes in ... vegetables are hungry plants and it makes a huge difference to keep the soil healthy by boosting the soil's eco-system by adding living organisms and micronutrients.  Good natural mulches will do that so now I consider it an essential task in spring and late autumn, for both my gardens and for clients. 

Peat-free products I've used for mulching and seed sowing ...

The Melcourt SylvaGrow Farmyard is a new one to me, although certainly not new on the market. I'm particularly interested in seeing how it performs over the year as the company claims the product will help with water retention (remember I have to water by hand), with soil structure and will renutrify the soil.  Plus, being made from anaerobic digestate rather than the more traditional straw and horse poo, there should be no herbicides ruining my crops. Sounds like a winner to me! I'm also a big fan of the Melcourt Sylvagrow products just because they're high quality. 

Somerset-based RocketGro is another company whose products I've embraced this season. I intend to use their Magic Mulch soil improver in the herbaceous borders of my flower garden as well as around my fruit trees ... especially the plum trees. I think it will help enormously. Their composts are all 100% organic and peat free, made with a clever process inspired by the way cows digest their food.  You had me at cow. I love it.

Dalefoot composts are an old favourite that I've used where possible for many years.  They have a range of composts tailored to different uses, all of which are made to an old 'recipe' using bracken from the Cumbrian hills mixed with sheep's wool from their farm. The company is also actively involved in restoration of peatland bogs; read more about this on their website via this link: Saving Peat Bogs

Seed sowing ...

This year I was given a bag of  RocketGro's Peat Free Seed and Cutting compost which I've been using for most of my seed sowing. It feels like beautiful stuff but, to keep things fair, I've sown half my seeds into Dalefoot Seed and Cuttings compost to see if the two composts produce equal results.  

Reducing plastic ...

From pots to potted ...
© Images from Wool Pots

While writing about seed sowing, I should also mention Wool Pots as I'm using these for my larger seeds like squash, pumpkins and courgettes.  I spotted these at the Garden Press Event in February this year and was allowed to take a sample away with me. 

The company was founded when the owners leapt into action to think up an alternative option to the plastic plant pots that would otherwise end up in landfill; they created knitted tubes of unwashed raw British sheep wool from unwanted excess that would otherwise have been burnt.   

The website gives several very logical (to my mind) reasons to use their wool pots - growing plants in the pots will allow the roots to be air pruned for stronger growth; there's no need for transplanting as the wool pot can be planted (as in the above image); the wool acts as a slug and snail deterrent (hopefully!); the wool will break down in 6-7 weeks to add nutrients to the soil. By watering the pots from underneath, the water is drawn towards the roots. 

It all makes a lot of sense but there's one drawback ... the wool pots have a one time use and although I hate the idea of overwhelming amounts of plastic being chucked away, if you've already got plastic pots, use them.  I take care of my sturdy plastic pots and have reused them for many years now.  So there's a financial argument against using wool pots but let's see how the seedlings fare as I won't have to disturb the roots when planting them out.

---

Has anyone reading this had success with peat free?  And what do you think about any alternatives to plastic pots?  I'd love to know what has worked for you!

Some more information (if you want 😉) ... links open in a new window

New Leaf's guide to mulching - here

Wool Pots - website here

RocketGro - website here

Dalefoot - website here

Melcourt SylvaGrow - website here

New Leaf - website here

Brontë Heritage - website here

GardenWatch: April in the Veg Patch

After a winter that seemed to go on for ever, I've barely started sowing and it already feels like the summer solstice is drawing near! Let's see what's happening in the garden...

Yep, it's blossom time again. The pear trees never fail.

Now that we're half way through the spring months, the air temperature is warmer making it a real pleasure to potter around the garden as the plants put on some very vigorous growth.  I have two garden spaces that I look after here in my urban Eden - the veg garden which is languishing while waiting for sowing and planting to begin, while the car park garden is verdant with colour and greenery from the hedges, perennials, bi-annuals and spring bulbs. 

Pretty little spring veg patch

But it's not quite true to say that the veg garden languishes ... flowers to encourage early pollinators have been blooming - daffodils, violets, forget-me-nots, tulips ... while on the food front, late summer planted purple sprouting broccoli is doing me proud with regular pickings of delicious sprouts and there's also some chard that has stood over the winter.  The PSB was planted out so late that I honestly didn't expect the plants to produce anything. They didn't have time to grow to their full stature before winter so to see heads forming and sprouts shooting up this month was genuinely and unexpectedly thrilling. 

And then there's my expanding patch of wild garlic leaves - so delicious in a risotto or used to make pesto.  I bought one plant almost a decade ago from Jekka McVicar's herb farm that now covers a metre and a half under the fruit trees. As it's away from pollution and organically grown, I can harvest without worry.  Am I concerned about it taking over? No. Besides, is there such a thing as Too Much Wild Garlic?  For now, there's little landing space for any seeds as the wild garlic is growing through Cerinthe (Honeywort), Ajuga and leaves of Hemerocallis (Day lilies). 

PSB, rhubarb, gooseberry flowering;
Sweet Cicely, Wild Garlic, Sweet Woodruff (all edible!)

A rare week of warm weather interspersed with heavy rain has done the garden (and me) the world of good; the fruit trees are a riot of blossom (until spring storms blow it all away), rivers of Sweet Woodruff and Sweet Cicely are about to flower, ever dependable rhubarb has appeared, honeyberry and gooseberry bushes are flowering. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for plums, as usual. 

Where I'm at with seed sowing ...

So while there are a few plants to pick from, I have to confess that I neglected to grow many other veg that could be filling the hungry gap at the moment. To remedy that, I've just sown kales, butternut squashes, leeks and Chioggia pumpkins indoors.  

As ever, I long for a greenhouse. It wouldn't be empty for long if my tiny balcony is anything to go by.  Currently filling every nook and cranny are trays of beetroots,  nasturtiums, courgettes, spring onions, salad leaves, tomatoes, lamb's lettuce, beans, and pollinator friendly annuals of cosmos, calendula, gypsophila, verbena, sweet peas and echinacea.  If I can find space for them, I also want to grow Bunny Tail grass for some winter wreaths. 

I'm keeping veg sown into modules in the shelter of my balcony for now but outside the soil is warm enough to sow some veg (and flowers!) direct ... at least in the south of the UK. In the past week, broad beans have gone into the soil, garlic and onions that were overwintered in modules have been planted, the Jerusalem artichoke hedge is in, and peas, radishes and carrots will be next. 

Spring has truly arrived with all its thrilling moments!  

Revisiting an immune boosting tea from the herb garden

 

And, finally, there was tea ...

It's probably a bit early for all the herbs in this tea to be available in the garden but as many of my friends and family have colds at the moment, it seems timely to revisit this delicious tea.  

Some readers may remember this tea ... I initially wrote this as part of a look back at May 2020 in the garden - a time when we needed all the immune support we could get! So, if these plants are not flourishing in your garden yet (take heart, it won't be long), bookmark this post to come back to it.  And while the plants are available, pick and dry some of the leaves to store for winter colds. 

And if you don't already grow these plants, can I suggest that all of these are well worth growing?  Lemon balm is so easy to grow, loves shade and still it tends to self seed vigorously.  I now also grow Lemon Verbena - it's a glorious herb, and I keep the lemon balm shorn to a more manageable blob. 

An Australian permaculture channel posted a video for what they call 'Immune-i-Tea' ... a delicious immune boosting drink made from garden herbs.  To my delight, I found that I had all of the necessaries in my herb garden.

Just five herbs needed in roughly equal quantities, a small handful of each of yarrow (achillea), calendula flowers, mint, thyme and lemon balm.  Put into a large teapot, cover with boiling water and put the lid on.  Leave for at least 10 minutes and then pour.  It was surprisingly thirst quenching, tasty and uplifting and, I imagine, would also be lovely chilled. I think I may never buy another herbal tea bag.

The How and Why of growing Jerusalem Artichokes

Spot the real sunflower - most of these are Sunchokes (Helianthus tuberosus)

My new discovery for the veg patch last year was Jerusalem Artichokes, also known as Sunchokes. I grew them for the sunflowers, little knowing of their many health benefits!

I'd resisted growing Jerusalem artichokes until the day they were served up as a side veg at a particularly posh restaurant meal that I was invited to attend. First tastes didn't provoke a eureka moment but that smooth blob of puréed sun-chokes piqued my curiosity. Was this a useful addition to the veg patch? And was their reputation for causing flatulence justified? 

There were two important things that started my growing experiment:  

One, the plants are in the same plant family as sunflowers;  so it's a double win for the veg garden to get cheerful pollinator attracting sunflowers and, of course, those edible tubers after the flowers have faded. Plus seedheads in the autumn for birds to munch on. Triple win! 

Secondly, I read that specialist tubers are not obligatory so I grabbed a bag of Jerusalem artichokes from the veg aisle in my local supermarket to start the experiment - and, even better, they were at sale price being at their 'best before' date.  

Sunchoke leaves are less serrated than regular sunflower leaves.

Growing them is easy: 

I dug a foot wide shallow trench in a sunny corner of the veg patch, forked in some compost from my Hotbin (although any compost would do), buried the tubers about 4 inches deep, spaced them 8 inches apart, then covered them over again with soil. Job done. And then watered and waited. Probably longer than was necessary but the tubers can be left in the ground until needed. Just wait until the flowers have finished. So simple. 

They didn't need earthing up like potatoes, they didn't need staking like tall sunflowers - unless your site is very windy - plus they're fairly pest resistant. And each tuber planted produced around 10 to15 more which I have roasted, pureed and mashed. Deliciously nutty, but their gassy reputation is warranted in my case. Enough said.

But not to be put off by their wind producing side effects, this year I'm bordering the veg patch with an extended row of Jerusalem Artichokes. Why? because they have some very good health benefits.

Harvesting Jerusalem artichokes from October through to January! 

So let's talk health benefits ...

These tubers are allegedly a nutritional powerhouse.  They're a good source of antioxidants which makes them gut-friendly and immune-boosting. They're also packed with fibre, iron, potassium and phosphorus. (Huh? I had to find out what phosphorus is in relation to the human body, rather than soil!  It's a mineral that supports the formation of bones and teeth, repairs cells, normalises the heartbeat, kidney function and muscle contractions. So .. pretty important stuff.)

But what they're most famous for is their high inulin content. Inulin is a carbohydrate that acts as a prebiotic, feeding your good gut bacteria to keep your innards healthy.  It's hard to digest so when it reaches the intestines, it feeds the gut bacteria which then produce methane gas ... yes, the source of their nickname, fartichokes. 

That aside, Jerusalem artichokes are touted as a good substitute for potatoes being low carb, low sugar and full of fibre. 

They're still a bit of a novelty for me and I now know to eat them as a treat rather than every day and certainly not in any great quantity as I could feel (and hear!) the effect they had on my intestines for a couple of days. 

There is a way to lessen the gassiness ...

I've read that there are three ways to reduce the side effects of Jerusalem artichokes.  The first is to gradually increase the amount eaten in order to get your body to adapt; the second is to boil the sliced tubers in lemon juice which turns the inulin into fructose thereby making them sweeter but less gassy. The third is to slice and pickle them, retaining the nutty flavour and crunch.  Option 3 sounds interesting!

So, a potato substitute with health benefits and cheerful flowers ... will you give them a go this year?

A few of the ultra-delicious recipes I've tried!

If you're new to cooking Jerusalem artichokes, can I steer you in the direction of Riverford Organic Farmers website?  Here you'll find not only a few of the recipes that inspired me but also some good advice on preparing the tubers if you watch the video in the first recipe listed below.

Roasted Jerusalem artichokes with mushrooms, rosemary and garlic - still my favourite

Jerusalem artichoke and bacon gratin - cheese, bacon, cream and sunchokes, delicious.

Jerusalem artichoke and leek soup - the perfect soup using available veg from the winter garden. 

Happy munching! 

And here's Charles Dowding showing how he grows his Jerusalem Artichokes:

https://youtu.be/jIM2mxswJZ8

 

Getting the garden ready for winter

Before thinking about any seasonal holidays, and before the weather turns frosty, there are still a few pre-winter jobs to complete by way of thanking the garden for its sterling work this year and give it a boost to prepare for next. But perhaps you're already ahead of me on that one?

These are questions I'm asking myself:  Have you gathered and bagged up leaves? Emptied the compost bin? Mulched your borders? Cleared the summer veg beds? Started off garlic cloves? Planted pots for a bit of winter pizazz? Pruned the roses? Given the hedge a last trim? Got all those spring bulbs planted?  Yes? Ah, maybe that's just me falling behind then.  Time to get busy!

I regret not making the most of the gorgeously warm start to autumn now normal service has resumed - damp foggy mornings and dropping temperatures ... but the golden hues of trees heading towards their winter hibernation and shrubs dripping with berries is a trade off I can live with. 

During the day I garden for other people so my own garden goes to the back of the queue - see list above and the reason why I still have bulbs to plant - tulips, snowdrops, leucojum, fritillaries and iris reticulata; I can't resist buying them and adding to my pots and borders. November is a good time to get bulbs in the ground before the soil (and air!) becomes noticeably colder. So that's got to be one of the first tasks on my list of self-perpetuating garden work. 

This month is also good for dividing perennials and moving plants.  I've a chunk of rhubarb to move and  have also promised to dig up some of my hellebores for a lovely 90 year old for her garden.  Last year I took round a few of my self seeded forget-me-nots; they flowered frothily in spring and have spread prolifically. I've relocated a few clumps to create flower drifts across her borders ... just dig them up with a good root ball attached and replant straight away into the new position. 

Back in my little veg patch, I’ve been harvesting tomatoes, beetroot, carrots, apples, rosehips and chard for weeks now and trying to ignore rising energy costs as I process it all into chutneys, soups, jams, butters and cordials. 

The endless stream of tomatoes has now, unsurprisingly, finished.  I grow mostly cherry types with Mr Fothergill's Cherry Falls doing well for me every year. Four plants provided at least half a kilo of fruit week after week - most were bottled or preserved; I can recommend the Tomato Kasundi recipe in The Modern Preserver book, a warm Indian spiced chutney.  Larger beefsteak tomatoes from a friend's allotment were deskinned and deseeded, combined with onion and peppers and made into an easy and delicious soup for the freezer. I must put seeds for big tomatoes on my list for next year. 

Beetroot have been roasted, eaten, made into chutney or delicious muffins (my thanks to Karen for the recipe; my waistline applauds you!)  or frozen. Yes, frozen - who knew that was even possible! Well, I do now.  (Cooked, peeled, sliced for ease of defrosting, and laid out on a tray to flash freeze before being bagged up, labelled and frozen for up to 6 months.)  

Carrots.  I was gifted seeds from Premier Seeds in Poland to try. By summer's end, the roots were still frustratingly small but tasty so I left them to grow on a bit. By the end of October, after a warm and wet month, the roots were fat, large, and delicious.  Those seeds will definitely go on my list for late autumn veg next year!

My apples have mostly been windfalls, but nothing has been wasted. The bruises and wildlife munchings have been chopped out and the good bits made into utterly delicious Spiced Apple Butter or stewed for the freezer. Fruit butters are a thickened spiced purée -  a spread I hadn't come across before which has now introduced me to a whole new world of toasty deliciousness!

November in the garden. I will ...

• Cut autumn fruiting raspberry canes down to a few inches above the soil once the leaves have all dropped.  Mulch the soil to feed the canes once done. The fruit was not good this year; hoping for better next.
• Stake and mulch around broccoli plants - they get big and hungry!
• Gather leaves for leaf mulch. A large black bag with air holes punched in will do but any large container that lets water and air in and out will do; leave for a year or two. 
• Plant garlic cloves
• Divide rhubarb and replant divisions. Mulch around the crowns. 
• Sow Aquadulce or Sutton broad beans (these are winter hardy types), sweet peas
• Plant spring bulbs! 
• Start to prune apple, pear and quince trees for shape and to cut away dead, diseased or crossing branches
• Empty the compost bin (My least favourite job!)
• Put out bird feeders or check food levels in existing feeders.

Next in my client gardens I'll be pruning back untidy shrubs (but not those that flower in spring!), relocating a rose bush that's outgrown its space, planting bare root roses (perfect time for this!) and reducing other roses by up to a third to avoid wind rock to the roots. There's also still time to plant up some large pots for a bit of winter colour.

If you've enjoyed reading this, come back for more inspiration for edible and colourful winter pots!

The preserving books I refer to:

• National Trust Complete Jams, Preserves and Chutneys - for apple butter. Windfall Chutney and the best blackberry and apple jam.
• The Modern Preserver, Kylee Newton - for Tomato Kasundi and Beetroot & Orange Chutney
• Gardener Cook, Christopher Lloyd - for Old Fashioned Quince Pudding and other quince recipes.

Progress at last!

The seed sowing begins ...

This month I've been pondering on why some seeds fail and the relativity of time ... days pass quickly when enjoying yourself but waiting for seeds to germinate? Not so much. Having sowed trays of peas and broad beans late in March (and loads more seeds throughout this past month), I check daily for signs of life and get excited when tiny green shoots poke up above the soil. (Hello cape gooseberries and ahoy Pak Choi!) This month has been more of a waiting game though and I’m feeling the pressure to get plants growing and planted out in a timely fashion.

The weather hasn't helped ... after a blast of sunshine early in the month, the skies then became grumpy and rather chilly.  This was not ideal for the bean and pea seeds growing outside in the shelter of my tiny balcony. I start hardier seeds off outside as I like to keep windowsills indoors clear for the deluge of more tender seeds to come. Sometimes my optimism is misplaced.

Earlier in the month, having monitored daily for the appearance of broad/fava bean and sweet pea seeds, I began to wonder if they were all duds - and then it dawned on me to check the label I’d put with the plants. Even though it seemed like ages since I'd sown the seeds, it had only been a week and temperatures were chilly. Doh! 

However, sigh of relief, after a respite indoors on the kitchen windowsill, shoots appeared within a few days; at 2 inches tall, the plants went back onto the balcony. And now I have ten sturdy little plants planted out and growing well.  (There were supposed to be fourteen but four seeds did fail to germinate, such is life.)

Why so few plants? Well, the broad beans were destined for two 12 inch wide rows in the Abundance Bed which is my project this year. I decided to dedicate an area of the veg patch for an Abundance Bed after reading Huw Richard's book 'Veg in One Bed' (reviewed in December); I love being told what to do and when. Sticking to the book's plan of action, my broad beans were planted out mid-April when the plants were about 4" high.  Whew ... just in time! 

But why do seeds sometimes fail?

Sometimes the seeds are just too old if kept from year to year. Once packets are opened, seeds start to deteriorate and the energy stored up for germination is lost - basically, they run out of puff. I’ve started marking new seed packets with the date that I opened the foils and pay attention to the year packed as well as the ‘sow by’ date.

Some seeds will last longer; I’m sprouting a few old orca and Borlotti beans in cotton wool to test their viability rather than wasting seed compost. I first saw this done with slow germinating seeds like parsnips, tried it for myself and it worked. I’ll plant the seeds when (if!) signs of life are seen. 

It's guesswork knowing the best time to sow seeds; the sowing timelines on the packet caters for gardens at all extremes of the country but it is only guidance. Too cold and they’ll struggle to germinate. Too early and they struggle for light. Too late and annual plants don't have enough time to fully develop.  That's particularly true for chillies (always hit and miss for me) but I've finally got my tomatoes, cucumbers, chillies, leeks and peas sown.  All in modules, destined for the windowsills - the first lot for the warmth needed to germinate the seeds and the peas to (hopefully!) keep the mice from eating them. 

I've sown runner beans, sweet corn and french beans into root trainers this morning; squash and courgettes are next - maybe a teeny bit later than usual but with slightly warmer weather now, they should quickly grow into strong plants. Fingers crossed, eh?

And the sweet peas? Well, after three weeks of daily checking, a few tiny shoots popped their heads above the soil, just fifteen out of the 30 tubes sown. That'll do.  But lesson learned: noticeably it's the freshest seeds that have germinated (plus a few from last year) so some ruthless seed culling is needed! 

So, as ever at this time of year ... onwards!

Gardening by the Easter moon

Last night's skies were lit by April's Full Moon - also sometimes known as the Paschal Moon as Easter falls on the first Sunday after its appearance which, in this case, is today. But that’s not its only folklore name … Native Americans know this moon as The Moon of the Red Grass Appearing - which is rather poetic, and beautiful in my opinion. 

All this moon's names relate to spring getting underway. Anglo-saxons called it Egg Moon; extraordinary how there's a link back to all these names in today's culture ... spring chicks, Easter eggs ... not too sure about Easter bonnets though! The Celts on the other hand were possibly more in tune with nature? They called this Full Moon the Budding Moon, New Shoots Moon and Seed Moon. Yep, it's the month to get sowing.  

The general idea seems to be that while the moon is going from new (no moon) towards full, it exerts a growing (waxing) influence over water and therefore plant life. That period is allegedly good for sowing or planting out crops that develop above ground - beans, chard, brassicas, leafy veg.

The reverse is true after the full moon starts to wane. The next seven days is a good time to sow seeds and tubers for plants developing below the soil ... beetroot, radish, carrots, leeks, parsnips, spring onions, potatoes (2nd early and maincrop), Jerusalem artichokes, dahlias, lilies, gladioli - you get the idea.  

I've planted up all my dahlia tubers in pots on my balcony so the next week should get them off to a good start. And I'll head out to the veg patch today to sow carrots, beetroot, another row of radish and plant more Jerusalem artichokes. 

The 'drawing down' energy is strongest straight after the full moon but fades as it wanes towards the new moon on the 30th. My almanac advises that the last week of the month is a dormant period with poor growth. Obviously my energies will be best directed towards garden maintenance - a good time to prune, weed, mulch and build supports for peas and beans.  

And with the weather here in the south of England forecast to be warm and dry, I think I should add watering to that list. 

Ginger Nuts! How to grow fresh ginger (part 1)

 

I've been trying not to get too experimental with what I'm growing this year but ginger is a staple in my kitchen (so useful for warding off winter colds).  So, for the past few weeks, I've been nurturing a root into life in the dark warmth of my kitchen cupboards.

I last tried growing ginger seven years ago, and failed. But, inspired while watching Marcus Wareing's Tales from a Kitchen Garden on the BBC, my thoughts turned to the summer warmth in my sun trap of a salad garden and I decided to try again. And on my next shopping expedition, I came home with a sturdy chunk of promising looking ginger in my basket.

I've followed the method shown in episode 8 of the show where Marcus chats to a grower about spices. And that included ginger.  Compulsive viewing for a food grower - I now know where I went wrong before! 

As the saying goes ... if at first you don't succeed, try and try again. Especially as I've now seen a tried and tested method that practically guarantees success. (I'm nothing if not optimistic.)

So this is what I've done (so far) ...

• First, sprout the ginger.  Soak the ginger chunks in water for a couple of days; that helps to revitalise it.
• Next, seal the chunks in a clear plastic tub and store it somewhere warm.  I found the gentle warmth of the cupboard near to my oven perfect.
• Finally, try not to forget about it! In a couple of weeks, buds on the ginger had started to form a tuber with visible roots (see main pic).  The whole chunk of ginger was then potted up into good peat free compost, leaving the growing shoot above the soil level and the new roots just buried. Keep the plant warm and the soil moist (never wet) and in six months or so, I should be harvesting my own fresh ginger. 
• I used a 3 litre/7.5" pot because it's what I had to hand but a 10 litre/11" pot would be even better. I'll pot mine on once it's established. 
• Ginger (Zingiber officinale) is a subtropical plant, thriving in humid conditions and nutrient rich soil. It spreads along the ground as it grows (hence the need for a big pot or greenhouse bed) and will need feeding weekly. 

Snuggled into it's new home ... 

Part Two of this post will be if/when this experiment progresses ... and my next experiment will be the lemon grass stalk previously destined for a pot of Thai breakfast soup but now sitting in a jar of water on my windowsill.

Goodbye Storm Moon, Hello Worm Moon

Or to put it another way, goodbye February, hello March. And hello rhubarb, wild garlic, spring flowers and first tiny blossom on the fruit trees!

Harvested this morning - love that Peppermint Chard!

Herbs, the Wolf Moon, and the first snowdrop

Last week, at half past four in the afternoon, I realised that it was still daylight ... and I spotted my first snowdrop. Now that doesn’t seem much to get excited about does it,  but daylight has lengthened by almost a full hour since new year; spring is on its way.  

Little flower, huge significance

In the past week, clear night skies have settled a good crusting of frost on rooftops, plants in the garden have gently iced over and I’ve seen a bright full moon in the dawn sky. That was the start of the waning as the moon gradually reflects less of the sun’s light ... the phase when it’s allegedly beneficial to start off crops that grow below ground. That’ll be the garlic then. 

These days most people pay little attention to the moon unless its something really spectacular but, in folk lore, each monthly cycle is named to reflect what’s happening in nature. The January moon is known as the Wolf Moon as this is the month when wolves would call to each other by, literally, howling at the moon. (The upward trajectory allows their voices to travel over greater distances. Fascinating.) While the name is wildly romantic, I’d guess it’s less relevant in the UK today but other Celtic and Old English names for January include Stay Home Moon and Quiet Moon. Given that the Covid pandemic rumbles on, that’s definitely a moon for these times.

I’ve been thinking a lot about herbs this week, mainly because of Alys Fowler; I’m reading her book, A Modern Herbal. I’ve already got several books on the subject, mostly for reference rather than a good read.  But Alys’s book is that good read - quite the page turner for a herb geek like me. It’s made me rethink some of the herbs that I’ve grown in the past and got rid of or moved - lovage, for one. I might have to reinstate my thuggish Lovage plant back into the herb garden ... when I can find it, which will be when it starts growing again.

Lovage is an enormous plant so I relegated it to a spot behind the fruit trees a few years ago where it’s no longer in the way but usefully ornamental. Which also means that I can’t easily reach it.  I’ve now read what a useful herb it can be. It’s supposed to be helpful for digestive problems (including, ahem, wind) as well as gout, arthritis and kidney stones. Luckily, I don’t need it for those reasons. But, on a brighter note, the stems and leaves make a great addition to a Bloody Mary cocktail. Good to know.

As Alys says, ‘it’s the giant cousin of parsley and celery’ ... giant being the operative word here! I used to use a few leaves to flavour soups, stews and stocks but the smell would linger for hours. Not bad if you like the smell of celery spiced with cumin but a bit much when it dominates for the rest of the day! 

Woundwort, as she shall henceforth be known.

Another novelty inspired by the book was to discover how useful my Ajuga reptans can be. She’s been left alone to quietly colonise a patch between the cherry and plum trees for several years for the sole purpose of reducing weeds. But now her hidden qualities have come to light; apparently she not only excels as ground cover but, made into a poultice, will speed up healing of surface cuts and grazes! Very, very useful as I’m forever scraping my arms in the garden. Ajuga’s folk name is, aptly, woundwort. Obviously I need to be nicer to her (them? for she has been very prolific) and will move a few of her offspring into the herb garden. This is easily done as Ajuga spreads by putting out runners (like strawberries) that will root into any damp spot.

So, this week I’ll be ...

• planting garlic
• cutting down last year’s autumn fruiting raspberry canes
• clearing the last of the leeks
• starting a new Ajuga/woundwort patch
• ... and watching the hellebores flowering. 

Spring is on its way ...

Stay warm, stay safe x 

The Winterlude

Happy New Year and welcome to the Winterlude - the ‘dormant’ phase of the garden year and a perfect time to read, take stock and plan ahead. 

So that was 2021

2021 has been an eventful, challenging and fun year ... but it hasn't all been about the veg...

 

Hampstead Heath ponds frozen over in February

Well, there she goes ... goodbye to 2021; a bittersweet year but one that I will remember fondly. That may seem a strange thing to say, given that the country was in lockdown for the first part of the year, and held to ransom by the coronavirus pandemic, but I was one of the lucky ones who remained in excellent health and was grateful for vaccines when offered. 

So, for me, conversely, lockdown was a time of freedom; freedom to improve my run across Hampstead Heath, to potter in the garden in the morning sun, to walk by the Thames and its tributaries, and to explore the Greater London area. 

Solstice - And the world turns back to the light

The winter solstice can be considered to be a dual edged sword for it brings both the start of gradually lengthening days as well as the true start of three months of winter. Brrr... but not quite yet. And there's unlikely to be any snow over the holiday festivities, let me explain why.

 

Belated Book Review: Veg from One Bed - an excellent book for new veg gardeners

This is not a newly published book but having recently discovered it for myself, I wanted to highlight it for readers of this blog because it provides a foolproof way of building confidence and growing success for a beginner veg gardener.

Disclaimer: I have not been paid for this review; as ever, all opinions are my own. 

Less veg, more bulbs

Not quite nailing self sufficiency but very pretty

Even though I've now acquired a little christmas tree (one that I have to keep alive in its pot), I still can't quite get my head around the fact that it will be christmas in just ten days or that there’s less than three weeks to the new year. Work in the garden is never finished but I’ve spent most of last week working in other people’s gardens. However, it looks as though this will be the week that I get some time to sort out my own garden spaces and finally plant my spring bulbs. They could be summer bulbs if I don’t get on with it.

Absolutely Autumn

The quirkiness of nature - conjoined apple from my Core Blimey tree 

When I set out to write this post (a few weeks ago!) it was most definitely still autumn ... and now here we are at the start of winter. In fairness, I did take time out at the end of October to climb to the top of a small mountain in the Western fells of the Lake District - a beautiful, challenging, sometimes scary and totally wonderful life changing experience. But time in the garden is certainly marching on. The last apple has fallen, fruit trees are now almost bare of leaves, all potatoes have been lifted, lavender bushes trimmed back and asparagus ferns cut down ready for next year. But before I embrace the winter months, why not join me on a look back over the autumn?

While I was away ... how my garden fared

It’s always a worry when you go away in midsummer and leave the garden or allotment to fend for itself, especially with the fickle weather we’ve experienced this year. I’ve been away for a few days in lovely Lancashire where it rained quite a lot. (Important for such a beautiful green county!) I gather heavy rain was not exclusive to the north so, as a priority on my first day back, I went to assess the veg garden.  

Pigeons or slugs - who’s the vandal here?

Presenting the Not So Humble Nasturtium

Consider the nasturtium... a cheerful little soul, persistent, occasionally very annoying but also somewhat shy at times. Since sowing the first seeds into the veg patch ten years ago, my garden has never been without them. The sight of the flowers brightens my day (and sometimes my salad plate). This year I’ve grown an absolute corker - meet Bloody Mary. (No, not the cocktail.)

Her pink tinged buds open to a clear yellow with splashes of deep blood red - fabulous in itself - but, as the flowers mature, the petals change colour!  Will they be pink, red, speckled ... or stay yellow? My favourite is the deep wine red that some change to just before setting seed. 

Even the seeds are beautifully striped... although that one was nipped off to encourage more flowers; there will be time to collect the seeds later.

At first I thought this particular nasturtium might be a compact variety so grew it next to my Cherry Falls bush tomato in the raised Veg Trug bed; not so, as I’ve discovered. She has gently lowered one stem over the sides to explore new territory and twined herself companionably through the tomatoes with not an aphid in sight. 

The first nasturtiums appeared in the veg patch after a chance comment from a local competition judge that my garden was “very green” - said in a way that conveyed his disapproval at the lack of brashly coloured bedding plants.  That stung, “What’s wrong with green” I countered but that comment started my search to learn more about edible flowers for my food growing space.

Seeds for a creamy white (Milkmaid) and a sumptuous deep dark red (Black Velvet) were duly bought. I wasn’t convinced about eating the plants (that came later with nasturtium pesto) but reasoned that they served a dual purpose of adding colour and would be useful as a sacrificial plant in attracting aphids away from other crops. (A nice idea but I’ve never found them to be very efficient at this - any aphids will colonise all plants and not selectively choose nasturtiums.)

Since then I’ve grown Empress of India, Blue Pepe (small with blue tinted leaves and red flowers), and salmon baby in the veg patch. In the salad garden last year Ladybird Rose had her moment, only to be replaced by Baby Orange this year. Both have been well behaved and not trailed everywhere.

But the nasturtium that has totally captivated me this year with her changing appearance is Bloody Mary. She was a new seed in Mr Fothergill’s range last year and they were kind enough to send me a pack. 

The good and bad of my veg patch this week

Last kale standing
(and yes it is surrounded by self seeded forget me nots that will need to be moved, eventually)

Honestly, there are times when I wonder why I grow veg. With my small veg patch, my efforts are hardly a step towards self-sufficiency, especially when plants give up the good fight against pests, predators and precipitation (rain). (I do love a bit of alliteration.) But, then again, I’m an optimist by nature and have learned to roll with the heartache of seeing weeks of nurturing wiped out.

As we’ve come to expect in this very British of summers, variable weather conditions have favoured slugs and snails this past week, although I must say that lovely rain has left all the greenery looking very lush, even if my kales and cabbages have all but disappeared. Luckily I have a few spares waiting in the wings; veg growing is nothing if not a learning curve.

Yesterday was one of the brighter, yet chillier, days (perfect weather!) so I was able to grab a few photos in the evening as I inspected the patch after work. 

Ah! The waiting game as tomatoes gradually ripen ... they would get there quicker if grown in the warmth of a polytunnel or greenhouse but I don't have that luxury. Mine are chosen for their ability to be grown outdoors - hellooo again, British weather! Dare I keep my fingers crossed and hope for another blight free year?

 

These tiny tomatoes in my photo above are Mr Happy from Mr Fothergill’s children’s seed range and were destined for my niece’s young family to grow. Lockdown dictated otherwise and the plants stayed with me. I just love the name though - and if they ripen, I will indeed be Miss Happy! 

Plum. Singular.

Readers may recall my very reluctant plum tree - yes, it’s still standing. Very close scrutiny joyfully revealed one solitary large plum dangling in the branches. Whoop!  Now don’t get too excited, this should be ripening by now but the tree is sending me a message - it’s reminding me that it’s the perfect time for pruning stone fruit trees, and that's long overdue here. One more for the weekend agenda, then. (I seem to be constantly chopping things down or digging things up recently - life as a gardener!)

And speaking of digging things up, the broad bean plants can come out; these were a major fail this year. I’ve never had a problem with broad beans but this year the pods refused to swell - probably the unexpected heatwave and not enough watering. The delicious primavera risotto that I make with home grown broad beans, asparagus and peas will have to wait until next year.

Turning resolutely away from the disasters, let’s look at my raspberry patch. I mulched around the canes with some of my Hotbin compost earlier year and, together with regular bouts of heavy rainfall, the difference is noticeable. The first clusters of large firm fruits have ripened - even though they're an autumn fruiting variety - several small handfuls have (in time honoured tradition) been picked and eaten straightaway and I’m hopeful of a steady crop in the weeks ahead. This variety, by the way, is Polka.

So, not all bad news then ... 

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This week I'll be filling gaps in the veg patch by sowing 

• two varieties of spinach - a hardy winter cropping variety that can be sown from now until the end of September, plus a vigorous summer variety for baby leaves. 
• chard - can be sown again, now we're past midsummer. This sowing will give me baby leaves for salads and larger leaves in autumn and winter. Pink Passion for colour and Fordhook Giant for flavour. 
• Coriander - delicious in salsas, salads and the lentil dhal that I make regularly. I'll be sowing this now until the end of August and hope the plants mature in time for some seeds after the pretty flowers. 
• Plain leaved parsley - this is a last chance sowing as the window for outdoor sowing is March to July, although the temperatures now are not dissimilar to those in April. I chop flat leaved parsley into just about all savoury food so like to have some on the balcony and in the veg patch. 
• Carrots - I sowed another batch of carrots last week; this time I used Extremo (Mr. Fothergills), a variety which crops over winter. I've not grown carrots over winter before but am really quite excited at the prospect of harvesting carrots in the colder months ... allegedly until April, if what I read comes true.