Seize the day! Rewarding times in the November garden

You'd think by the end of autumn that all would be quiet in the garden with just a few tidying up jobs to be done, yes?  No. With the chill of winter in sight, there's plenty to do, see and eat in the garden...

It's nearly winter and it's cold but, where I live, at least there's no snow or frost ... yet. So am I still working in the garden? Yes. As much as I'd love to be indoors, tucked up with a good book, a couple of Hobnobs and a mug of tea, these are the many jobs needing my attention outside.

Weeding 

The ground is soft after persistent drizzle - perfect for weeding before the soil freezes.  And yes, weeds are still growing as the temperatures are averaging 7°C (44°F). I'm holding my breath waiting for it all to change but temperatures in London are forecast to soar (haha) to 14°C (57°F) by midweek and stay mild into early December. But before I shout "woo-hoo!" and race outside to carry on the good work, a reality check will require a raincoat and wellies.

Gather leaves and prune

The tree branches are now mostly bare, apart from the silver birch below my windows. It's a daily job to clear the ground but I love the thought of the lovely leaf mould I'm making.  I've got some wire baskets to store the leaves in while they rot down but have used open topped garden waste bags from the local council in the past. I could use perforated plastic bin bags but would rather not as I'm trying to eliminate single use plastic.

As the leaves began to fall from the cherry trees, I was concerned to see that next year's buds have appeared along the length of the branches; this won't be good if a hard winter lies ahead. Those yellow leaves have now fallen, revealing a couple of crossing branches. Stone fruit (cherries, plums, etc) should ideally be pruned in the summer but I've tidied up the trees in winter before without consequence. Luckily I'll be touching wood as I prune. Handy, that.

Pruning Autumn fruiting raspberries

I chopped down a few untidy autumn raspberry canes several weeks ago as they looked to be done for the year. The few canes that I left unpruned have gone on to produce lots more berries. I'm amazed, and thankful; a handful of delicious cold berries as I wander the garden is something to appreciate.

I know autumn fruiting canes are traditionally left until spring for the big chop but I've cut mine in late autumn for several years now, confident of the advice given by plant biologist and author, Ken Thompson. He prunes back all his raspberry canes, both summer and autumn fruiting, before winter - and he lives in Sheffield, Yorkshire, where it's a bit chillier than London.

Beware the yellow (or white) carrot!

These are the last of my self-styled 'lucky dip' carrots, from a pack promising a rainbow of colours. The prospect of jewelled roots was a tantalising thought as they grew but by the time I'd pulled the umpteenth yellow carrot the novelty had worn off.  They're very pretty but looks aren't everything.

The purple and orange carrots trumped the yellow ones for taste.  James Wong in his book 'How to Eat Better' writes that purple-to-the-core carrots have the highest levels of polyphenols, ten times that of yellow or white carrots.

No, I didn't know what polyphenols were either but read that they're good for you. Lump them in with carotene, probiotics and antioxidants, and you've got chemicals collectively known as phytonutrients. Adding phytonutrients to our diets (choosing purple over yellow carrots for example) may promote better health and prevent degenerative diseases. (According to the research data quoted by James.)

For now, that's good enough to sway me; I'm growing purple next year. Carrot seed is better when fresh so I can replace my seed without feeling guilty.

Those Fat Babies just keep on growing

A three metre hedge/windbreak, grown from just the one self-sown achocha seedling, borders one side of the veg patch. That's Fat Baby Achocha for you - 16 foot multi stemmed vines will grow sideways if they can't go up.  I hadn't intended growing achocha this year but when nature steps in, who am I to argue? Free food, minimal effort? Yes please.



Achocha can be used in any recipe that calls for bell peppers; I eat the small ones whole (they taste of peppers and crunchy cucumber) and will make achocha jam with the larger fruits. The vine is slowing down now but will carry on until winter cold kills it; any large pods falling to the soil will germinate next spring and be put up for adoption; I want to give the bigger variety, known as Giant Bolivian Achocha, a go next year.

Preparing the Asparagus/Square Foot bed

I love having freshly picked asparagus each spring; despite having only three crowns left, they produced enough quality spears for me this year so I've left the ferns for as long as possible to re-energize the crowns. They've now yellowed so it's time to cut them back to base.  The yellowing ferns also provided a windbreak for the tomatoes planted into the 'square foot' bed; tomatoes which, to my amazement, are still slowly ripening. Wow. Hot summer equals no blight spores.

In that same square foot bed, a cape gooseberry/Physalis plant has appeared. This is somewhat of a miracle in my book as no seeds were sown this year - could a dropped seed have lain dormant for three years in the soil to germinate in the heat of the summer? I haven't had much success with growing Physalis in recent years; even the plants that grew well at the allotment last year didn't fruit in time, unlike my first batch of veg patch plants that fruited prolifically and grew as short lived perennials through mild winters. This little miracle plant will be dug up and repotted into a sheltered spot so it has the best chance of surviving winter's chilly fingers.

Winter Veg

At the other end of the veg patch I have five enthusiastic purple sprouting broccoli plants.

I chose seeds specifically so that plants would fruit in succession, from summer through to late winter - but the dry heat of summer put paid to that. The plants are now starting to form heads, all at once. I'm hoping that shorter days and cooler temperatures will check this growth as I need some of the plants on hold for a winter crop. Somehow, that seems like wishful thinking - thank goodness for Cavolo Nero kale!

This kale grew from a dropped seed after the seedheads and flowers were left for pollinators to enjoy. I transplanted the 6" seedling in spring (it survived the harsh winter without any help) and I've enjoyed the leaves all summer.  Looks like it will keep going through winter as well!

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Jobs to do this month ... in fact asap!

• Gather up leaves and store in a mesh bag for leaf mould. I collect leaves from the gardens here, not the street leaves which are more likely to be polluted. I have enough to fill a couple of big garden bags; these will take a couple of years to rot down but it will be worth it.
• Cut back hellebore foliage. Hellebores, aka Lenten Rose, will be getting ready now to flower in spring. Cut the big old leaves off at the base of the plant to allow new leaves and flowers to develop.
• Mulch! Put last year's leaf mould and compost to good use by mulching around hellebores and other perennials now and put a mulch over any beds or planting areas not in use over winter. 
• Plant garlic cloves.  I had a crazy idea to edge the veg patch path with garlic and spring onions next year to free up a bed for other crops. 
• Plant onion sets.  I just have to work out where to plant them, given all the other crops I'll need space for! 
• But first I'm going to dig up and relocate self-seeded flowers. It's also a good time to move any dormant perennials - prepare the planting hole (or container) before moving them. 
• Plant tulip bulbs.  It's the perfect time for this job - not too cold to be working outside but cool enough that the bulbs won't get the tulip fire blight virus. (Please tell me I'm not the only one who has yet to plant bulbs?)
• Pot up and bring in any tender plants - dahlias, I'm looking at you. I also have chillies and pepper plants outside, and then there's the cape gooseberry to protect as well. 
• Pop a protective layer of horticultural fleece over tender crops like winter lettuce, pak choi and spinach; chard, purple sprouting broccoli, cabbages and kale are very hardy so don't need protection.

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Focus on: Celeriac. The benefits, the recipes, and how to grow

Celeriac is a health giving root vegetable that can be easily put back on the menu. I've been diving into the cookbooks and have come up with several very tasty recipes to make the most of its health benefits.

Autumn is definitely upon us (despite the occasional chill sunny day) and with it the desire for soups and heartier warming food. Science says that with less daylight hours, our brains direct us towards eating more substantially to produce the happiness hormone serotonin.

I found celeriac for sale recently and was reminded of the delicious remoulade I'd eaten last summer at the Raymond Blanc Gardening School where all lunch ingredients are grown in the kitchen garden. At that time, I'd never tasted celeriac before but enjoyed the blended taste of celery, mustard, mayo and crème fraiche, the main ingredients in remoulade.  I didn't think to look for celeriac afterwards but, seeing a pile of these root vegetables in the shops, I bought one with the intention of exploring whether I should be growing this vegetable next year.

Why grow your own

Putting aside that this supermarket wraps its root vegetables in plastic - (why? when they have to be peeled anyway?) - any veg that's home grown is going to be fresher, organic (I never use pesticides), and seasonal.  I often conjure up meals inspired by what I can gather from the garden and anything freshly picked at this time of year is a welcome bonus.

Having very little growing space, I have to make sure that whatever I plant will be a good return for my time investment, ie, be tasty, hard to source in the shops, and cheaper to grow myself. And packed with nutrients.

The nutritional benefits:

Celeriac is from the same plant family as celery so has a similar taste but is the bulbous root rather than the stem. I was amazed to discover that as well as being a good source of carbohydrate, the root has many health benefits to offer. So big tick in the box for that.

• Useful minerals - phosphorus for healthy bones; potassium for detoxing cells, healthy nerve function (keep those stress levels down!), efficient muscle contraction and regulating the heartbeat; manganese for development and good metabolism.
• Useful vitamins: Celeriac is known to be an excellent source of Vitamin C which means that it's also anti-oxidant and anti-cancerous.
• Vitamin K; good for bone and brain health. Vitamin K improves the body's ability to absorb calcium and who wouldn't want good strong bones to counteract osteoporosis in later life? It's worth noting that 1 cup of celeriac contains 80% of recommended daily intake of vitamin K. More importantly, Vitamin K is fundamental in protecting the nerve endings in our brains which might limit the damage caused by Alzheimer's.  I find that a reassuring thought.
• Low in calories; only 42 cals per 100 grams - useful as part of a weight loss regime. I found that Slimming World have a few recipes using celeriac, including a delicious sounding gratin.

Whew! Not bad for a lumpy root vegetable. I'm beginning to like it a lot.

In the kitchen:

Life can be so crazy busy that it's important for me to know that I'm not giving my family empty calories when I serve up dinner.  Having a notebook of quick recipes gives me an alternative to microwave ready meals when time is short and ensures that meals are nutritious. Would celeriac be a good fit for my notebook? After a bit of research, it appears the answer is yes.

Am I the only person to be unaware of this workhorse winter vegetable?  It's beginning to appear so. Celeriac is crisp when raw but is silky smooth when puréed. It can be roasted, sautéed, baked, grated, mashed, pickled or blitzed into soup. You can't do all that with a potato.

Online I found that it seems to be a favourite with the celebrity chefs:

• Celeriac and Bramley apple soup from chef Mark Hix
• Celeriac and Lancashire Cheese Pie (I'm keen to try this one - who doesn't love pie!)
• Celeriac and lentils with hazelnuts and mint  is Yotam Ottolenghi's offering. I love that I can use bay, thyme and mint from the herb garden in this recipe, plus lentils are cheap and very nutritious.
• Whole roast celeriac with coriander seeds - said to be easy and pan scrapingly delicious!
• Nigel Slater cooks his with milk and adds smoked haddock for a fish soup.
• And for pudding/dessert? Scroll through this article for a Celeriac ice cream with a praline topping from Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall.  (I cater for all tastes here!)

Ultimately, I made a soup with my celeriac, following a recipe in Anna Jones' book 'A Modern Way to Eat'. One ingredient was butter beans to give the soup a creamy texture.  It was nice. But that's hardly the hearty recommendation, is it!  For me, the soup was too thick but the flavour was good, especially topped with chopped toasted hazelnuts, a trick that I've adopted with my favourite cauliflower soup. Next time, I'll add more milk to the recipe, or make Mark Hix's celeriac and apple soup.

Growing celeriac:

At the start of writing this post, I was sceptical of growing celeriac for myself.  As with leeks and onions, with one seed you get one root so it's not exactly a space saving veg for the small garden, especially if they can be found locally in the shops.  But now I'd say to give it a go; celeriac is obviously a versatile ingredient and will provide fresh vegetables at the onset of winter. 

• The seeds need to be started around March, sown onto good seed compost and left uncovered as they need light to germinate. Keep at an even temperature between 15°-18°C (60°-65°F) as they don't like extreme cold.

• Prick out the seedlings into modules as soon as they're big enough to handle to minimise root disturbance. By pricking out at an early stage, this should stop them bolting later on. Grow on under cover or indoors until they're about 10cm (4 inches) tall.   

• Plant out after danger of frost has passed but grow under mesh or horticultural fleece to thwart celery leaf miner attacking the young plants. Some sort of slug prevention would also be useful; I use Strulch.  If planting in the square foot method, put only one plant into one square, or nine to a square metre bed.  Celeriac prefers humus rich, well manured soil - the no dig method is perfect for this.  Keep the soil moist in a dry summer by watering well as celeriac is shallow rooted and won't bulk up if it dries out.   

• As the celeriac grows, remove the outer leaves to expose the crown of the bulb and encourage it to develop. Harvest is usually from October onwards; grower's choice whether to dig up when needed, leaving the remaining bulbs in the ground - or, if there's a slug problem, harvesting all at the same time and storing in boxes in a cool place.

Adding to the planting plan:

In conclusion, I'd say celeriac will be a useful addition to the autumn veg patch and I'll be sourcing seeds for next year but limit the amount I grow.

If I close my eyes, I can picture that tray of roasted celeriac with coriander seeds (recipe above) being brought to the Christmas table alongside sprouts with bacon, maple glazed carrots and a fragrant herb stuffed bird. Sounds delicious? Particularly when most of that produce is home grown!



This comment left via email from Christine Bryant, after reading this article:

I have just read your blog about celeriac, one of my favourite vegetables.  It's also good raw.  Slice thinly and add to a crunchy winter slaw or cut into small batons.The seedlings are tiny when they germinate.  I work as a volunteer gardener in the kitchen garden at a large house and was asked one day to transplant celeriac seedlings.  I could hardly see them!  But they went on to produce the vegetable we all know and love. It needs plenty of water to grow to a good size.

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A Harvest of Quince and The Best Recipe for Quince Jelly. Now where's my runcible spoon?

I'm feeling rather pleased with myself and slightly uneasy at the same time. Why, you may ask. Let me tell you.

Having wanted to grow proper quinces for several years, this year my tree has produced the goods. I counted 40 this year, a thrilling effort from this four year old tree. To have forty quinces gives plenty of scope for trying out new ways of cooking and preserving. But if there's this many this year, what of the future?  I've read of massive gluts and that's when I start to get jittery. Forty I can cope with; eighty or more might start to feel like overwhelm. Do we really know what we want to do with a wealth of quinces? It's one of those 'Be careful what you wish for' moments.

My desire for a quince tree started in 2012 when I noticed the round fruits of Chaenomeles x superba growing in the gardens at Capel Manor where I was studying. I was told that they were edible, like quince. Seems reasonable as the plant's common name is Japanese Quince. I snaffled a few from the ground and made membrillo.  It was jolly good.

I also used some to make a tea infusion.  I'd heard that Lithuanians traditionally steep slices of raw quince in hot water and honey to make a soothing winter drink. Apparently the fruit is a good source of vitamin C, as well as copper, magnesium and other very useful minerals. I made some with Japanese Quince and was singularly unimpressed; it didn't taste of much.  Obviously I needed proper quinces for this.  (Perhaps I should try again with one of this season's Cydonia quinces.)

So why bother with Cydonia (real) quince when you can use Chaenomeles? Both have an aroma, although quince will perfume an entire room, and both have fruit that goes pink when cooked.  I remember Japanese Quince (Chaenomeles) being quite sharp flavoured, a bit like having lemon in tea so I'm going to guess that Cydonia quinces are slightly sweeter, possibly with more depth of flavour. (Or maybe it's the other way round? Foraging might be in order when the rain stops. If anyone reading this knows, please tell!)

I'm having a bit of fun trying out various ways of using my quinces.  After a weekend of rain, several of the fruit had split so were quickly picked and turned into a quince crumble using a Nigel Slater recipe from his fruit book 'Tender, vol II'.  It was nice, in fact the topping was delicious, but it's not a patch on plum crumble!

(The online link to the Slater recipe is here; make a note of the topping ingredients and enjoy Nigel's writing!)

After that, I was rooted in indecision for a while - there's more choice than just membrillo - but rediscovered this recipe for Old Fashioned Quince Jelly in my National Trust Preserves book. I had more split quinces that needed to be used quickly before they went brown and this recipe is one you just get on with. No peeling, coring or boring stuff. Just chop the quinces up, chuck into a pan, cover with water, cook, strain overnight, add sugar to the juice and boil.

The result is a beautiful clear jelly, sweet with a definite quince taste and scent. I had a enough left over for another half jar so have tried it out today on bread and butter; it's delicious. I like that its recommended uses are either for savoury (to go with lamb, cold meats, cheese, etc, like a redcurrant jelly) or topped with cream in a cake or, even better, spread on toasted muffins or scones! Now you're talking. Here's the finished result - four (and a half) little jars of deliciousness.  Now where's my runcible spoon?

And I still have a bowl of quinces in the kitchen ... possibly for pickling.

Old Fashioned Quince Jelly

1.35kg (3lb) ripe quinces
Water to cover
Thinly pared rind and juice of 1 large lemon (unwaxed)
Granulated sugar

Wash the quinces, rub off any down. Don't peel or core them but chop roughly into a large pan and just cover with water. Add the lemon rind then simmer gently until the fruit is soft and pulpy (about an hour). Stir in the lemon juice and strain through a jelly bag overnight.

Next day, measure the juice and pour into a clean pan. Add warmed sugar (I put mine in the oven at 140°C for 10 minutes) allowing 450g to each 600ml juice. (I had 900ml juice so used 675g sugar - and, yes, I did very gently squeeze the jelly bag to get the last of the juice from the pulp.)

Heat gently, stirring to completely dissolve the sugar, then bring to boil and boil rapidly until setting point is reached. 104°C if you have a sugar thermometer, or wrinkly spoonful on a cold plate if not.

Skim, then pot into hot/warm clean, sterilised jars, cover and seal.  (I washed my jars, rinsed well and dried them in the oven after the sugar was warmed.)

Making the most of a perfect autumn In the October garden

October can be a time of harvests and preserving the year's bounty. But it's also a good time to think about gardening for winter and next spring.

So often in the UK summer weather can disappear overnight and we're thrown straight into a precursor to winter. Not this year though. Mother Nature is letting us down so gently after a summer of extreme  heat. (Although today it's wet and windy so it would seem that the best of autumn might be behind us.)

The autumn sun, when it shone, has been genuinely warm, perfect for letting the last of the summer crops ripen and very pleasant for working in the garden. I still have a few tomatoes slowly ripening in the veg patch and more in pots on my balcony, giving the occasional treat before I have to revert to buying them. It's the most perfect October  - so far! but I'm expecting a huge reality check in a couple of weeks when the clocks go back. Here's what I'm doing to make the most of autumn.