A Winter's Tail

~ What a difference a week makes! ~

Dare I say that I'm moving on from winter?  Too soon? I hope not.  This time last week the garden was still under a couple of inches of snow and the wind froze water into long icicles on street signs. For London, that's very unusual - the last settled snow was in 2012.  I didn't dare hope that open flowers or tender leaf buds on fruit trees would survive the big freeze but it seems that a week of winter followed by a few days of mild sunshine has kickstarted the garden into spring.

So far I've identified only one casualty and that's a 3 year old pineapple sage. Being a half-hardy perennial, it really doesn't like temperatures to drop below 10ºC and, growing quite large, had been planted into the washing line/drought garden borders, ie, out in the open. Having now defrosted, it's now looking rather, well, dead. I'll probably need to replace it but will try pruning it to see if that promotes any new growth. Both my aromatic sages (Blackcurrant and pineapple) were bought as small plants in 9cm pots and quickly grew to several feet in size so I'm not feeling the loss too much.

Bizarrely, the blackcurrant sage not far away in a corner of the veg patch seems to have survived, possibly because it has a low wall on two sides. At the northern end of the veg patch, tender scented pelargoniums will need to be pruned back but are also showing new growth in the shelter of the low wall.  Such a small thing but it makes a big difference.  Urban gardens and small spaces can often provide just enough warmth and shelter for less hardy plants to survive, even without a greenhouse.

~ Kerria japonica, reliably early with buds of pompom flowers ~

In the new garden where many of the plants are still in pots, I grouped the pots together in the shelter of a hedge to maximise chances of survival. It seems to have worked as my Mum's agapanthus have perked up along with herbs such as lemon balm, mint and celery leaf. Bay, of course, is reliably tough but even the quince-in-a-pot has got tiny buds about to unfurl. Tiny details but I can't help it, I still find it so exciting when the garden wakes up in spring!

~ Lemon Balm in the sheltered garden, not in leaf yet in the veg patch ~ 

During the past week it's been lovely to see that hellebores, crocuses and daffodils have bounced back and I'm amazed at the speed that other plants have shown themselves. Wild garlic leaves are now about 3 inches tall (not long before they'll be added to pesto), broad bean seedlings have peeked above the soil and sweet pea seedlings, not there yesterday, are suddenly an inch tall.  When did that happen!?

It looks as though with just over a week to the spring equinox, winter might finally be moving on after one last lash of its icy tail. Perfect timing to start sowing some brassicas. What's everyone else up to in the garden this week?

Wild garlic, aka Ransoms or Allium ursinum (Bear Garlic)

From Winter to Spring: the RHS Early Spring Fair

~ The Wisley Winter Walk garden at the show ~

While icy winds and snowfalls have taken the UK back to winter over the past few days, I'm reminded of the RHS Early spring show that was held recently.  It's the show that, for me, heralds the start of spring and it's where gardeners gather to break out of their winter hibernation to revel in an array of glorious spring flowers.

As the first garden related show of the year, and standing on the cusp between winter and spring, the show divided its contents accordingly.  The Lindley Hall was predominantly white with snowdrop displays, a winter inspired banqueting table, and botanical art, while the Lawrence Hall proudly strutted the best of winter colour with award winning nursery displays and a recreation of the winter walk at RHS Wisley. For anyone that had the time to linger between browsing, there was also two days of talks and workshops - it was a bumper package, well worth the admission price.

~ Botanical art workshop, each participant left with a hand painted card ~

On Tuesday, I'd gone to explore the show with my blogger's hat on but had spent the previous couple of days as part of the team building an exhibit garden in the Lawrence Hall.  The garden took inspiration from the winter walk at the RHS Garden at Wisley and was a shining example of winter's colours and scents - who says there's no colour in winter! It was designed by a friend and, for me, lovely to work alongside garden design students from KLC college. I'll come back to this in another post.

~ Vintage terracotta pots from Embergate, ex blogger, now purveyor of gorgeous vintage gardenalia ~

During the build, I'd watched as the many other exhibits came together in the two RHS halls. It was fascinating to see the huge amount of work that each exhibitor puts into their displays and gave me a whole new respect for them. The nurseries have to keep their plants fresh and vigorous throughout the build and three days of the show - no mean feat when dealing with plants that really prefer to be outdoors.

As a flagship spring show, the halls were lush with displays of hellebores, cyclamen, iris reticulata, primroses and snowdrops - oh, the snowdrops! Everyone has a favourite spring flower but these stole my heart away this year, they were so beautifully displayed.

~ Galanthus 'Cowhouse Green' suspended at eye level ~

I was fascinated by the hanging 'Celebration of Snowdrops' installation in the Lindley Hall. Garden designer Fiona Silk had wired hundreds of bundles of Galanthus nivalis and autumn leaves to a raised rig so that they slowly twirled in currents of air. Walkways between these led to a central ring of specialist snowdrops, suspended at eye level in brown paper parcels tagged with identifying numbers. It was mesmerising. These 'specials' were on loan from private collections so it was a rare treat to view them. In matching them to the accompanying list, I fell into conversation with an elegant woman whose husband had ordered Galanthus plicatus 'Blue Trym'  for her birthday next month. Each bulb sells for £120 but even at that price she wasn't hopeful that the order would be fulfilled as she'd heard that stocks had been snapped up in the EU. I like a snowdrop but I doubt I'll ever join the ranks of the true Galanthophiles at those prices.  Personally, I rather liked G. 'Cowhouse Green' at a more modest £25 per bulb but even that would break the budget!

In keeping with the fantasy floral theme, a Narnia-like banqueting table drew visitors to the far end of the hall. The white and crystal elements were intended to represent the transition of winter into spring, with greenery and snowdrops appearing through snow. It was visually stunning and much photographed but, as with most art installations, largely impractical. The birch trees behind every seat would have hindered sitting down somewhat.  I came to think of it as Miss Havisham's Wedding Breakfast as it made a rather icy and forgotten tableau - what do you think?

Talks are now a feature of the spring shows and I'd already determined to get to a talk by Alys Fowler on houseplants, a tie in with her latest book 'Plant Love' which she kindly signed for me afterwards. It's so lovely to meet your garden heroes. The talk was packed out, presumably we were all after a few tips on understanding and managing the mysterious world of indoor plants, and Alys didn't disappoint. It all sounded so easy once she'd explained a bit about leaf colour and shade. There was even time for a quick Q and A afterwards.  My question? I wanted the name again of the carnivorous plant that feeds on fungus gnats - apparently Venus Fly Traps just don't cut it. (It's Pinguicula but I've since found that it seems to be quite difficult to get hold of one. So perhaps I'll need to look out for Gnat Off instead, Alys's other suggestion.)

I would have liked to stay for some of the other talks but I had potatoes to buy.  Pennard's Plants from Somerset always bring their huge selection of tubers to this fair.  I've been a bit overwhelmed by the choice in previous years but I knew that I wanted just salad potatoes this year and the tubers were in colour coded tubs with short descriptions of each. At 24p a tuber, I was able to buy exactly the amount I wanted - mission accomplished.

And of course I couldn't leave without a couple of bags of Iris reticulata, as well as some gifted daffodils and crocus from a neighbouring display to the garden I helped with.  All in all an uplifting and very educational week.

The next RHS show in London is the Orchid and Plant Fair on 6th and 7th April. 

Prelude to a Siberian spring

~ Buds on the gooseberry bushes ~

Dare I write this with a forecast freeze from north Russia bearing down on the southern regions of the UK this week?  Following hellebores and snowdrops, I'm thrilled to see definite signs of other plants waking up in the garden, so much so that if the Big Freeze doesn't happen, spring might arrive bang on cue but I'm not hopeful. The meteorological end of winter in the UK is in three days, at the end of February; it looks like this year we'll have to pin our hopes on the astronomical start to spring almost three weeks later on the 20th March.

Like most gardeners I'm ready for winter to be over. I have tentative plans to start sowing my brassicas in the next couple of weeks but, much more than that, I want to be outside more regularly watching seeds come to life and blossom appear.  The good news is that, all being well, the scaffolding around my block of flats is due to come down in two to three weeks. Like my neighbours here, I've found it hard to live with so much darkness and noise as the roof is retiled, windows replaced and concrete repaired. It's a struggle to keep my balcony clear of debris and plants have suffered as a result. But the end is in sight and I'm sure it will all be worth it ... after the big clean up!

I love the weekends here at the moment, so quiet with no builders around. The bonus this weekend is beautiful clear sunny blue skies, even if the gentle breeze was bitingly cold - a forerunner of the promised Siberian blast? Whatever, it was enough to get me outdoors early yesterday morning until my fingers went numb. My fault, I should have taken gloves as well as my camera.

This afternoon, Sunday, I ventured out again, garden fork and secateurs in hand, this time properly wrapped up and with my thermal gloves on. I stayed out until a setting sun on the other side of the buildings made tiny aeroplanes high in the sky turn a shade of copper red and I could start to feel my feet turn cold. The soil had already started to freeze on the surface but I'd made good progress having dug out unwanted plants, moved others and trimmed back seedheads.

So, for the record, in case the garden is annihilated by frost and nature has to start again, this is where the garden is at this weekend. (There are also leaf buds starting to open on the quince tree which I'm pretty sure will not survive icy winds.)

~ New leaves on the spreading thyme ~

~ rhubarb starting to sprout ~

~ more herbs - chives, pretty sure this will get through the cold ~

~ hyssop, usually dies back in winter ~

And a few flowers:

Let's hope that our unfurling gardens survive any snow or frost in days to come! 

What's waking up in your patch? 

Sorting seeds for success

It's still cold, even in London, but these past few days there have been glimpses of blue skies that make me think about summer ahead in the garden. (And, ooh hello, it's only eight weeks until British Summer Time! There, that doesn't sound too bad now does it? Glass half full gal, here.)

Drawing the plot
Where to start? My plot is too small to stick to a strict rotation plan but it's useful to look back year on year to see where crops were planted and try to give the soil a breather. So I always start by drawing up rough plans for both allotment and veg patch as I can't see either garden from indoors. Being naturally optimistic, I've a tendency to overestimate the number of plants I can grow in the available space. With a sketch, I've got the garden to hand whenever I need it; I map out the perennial plants, see what needs to be moved or replaced, and plan where to plant this year. If I've only got 30 minutes to get outside, I know exactly what I can achieve in that time.

Yes, I know I could walk the plot and get an idea that way but that goes right out the window when ordering seeds - just now when looking online at sweet peas, I was totally distracted from my purpose by seeds for a caper plant. I resisted because, in a few months time, I'll be wondering where I'm going to plant all these seedlings. This way I can at least try to keep it real.

Making a list
So I've got my garden plan on paper. (Actually, i-pad, which I love.) Next, for both the veg patch and allotment, I've made a list of all the food I want to grow this year and then plotted those foods onto the plan, checking them off my list as I go.  I was quite surprised to see how much I could fit into my relatively small growing space - the veg patch is just 10 metres x 3 metres (32ft x 10ft). I'll sow fast growing carrots inbetween slow growing onion sets; spinach likes a shadier spot in the summer so will grow under climbing beans; kale and broccoli will be planted out when the broad beans come out, a border of spring onions can line the path. Tomatoes are companion plants for asparagus. Etc. You get the idea.

So now I know what to grow and where to put it. Now I can think about seeds. There are a few seeds that can be sown in February (under cover, of course), otherwise it's the perfect time to empty out the seed box and see what I've got before I settle down to mark up seed catalogues.  I find it incredibly easy to be tempted into overspending - I currently have four types of spinach, 6 types of beans ... I could go on but I've said enough.


Seed box detox
So, first off, I went through all my seed packets and steeled myself to discard any that were past their sow-by date. That's a tough one as seeds can be expensive but it's important. As with any living matter, seeds age (especially if they're stored in an old box on a warm shelf), and with it a significant reduction in the likelihood of successful germination. Who needs to watch soil for signs of life only to find two or three weeks later that it's a major fail?

The Real Seed company, who positively encourage seed saving, have a page which gives the estimated life span of certain seeds.  Very useful. That page is here.

Favourite seeds past their best that need to be reordered I put into a separate reminder pile.  Seeds where I couldn't see a best before date or remember how long I'd had them went onto the 'chuck' pile.  I found that several companies put no dates on their packets; others indicate only when the seeds were packed. This means seeds labelled as packed in 'year ending March 2016', could have been packed in April 2015 so are unlikely to be viable in March 2018, although it might be worth a try. Growers choice. Having walked that path before with limited success, I'd rather replace those seeds.  This year I'll be writing the purchase date on every new packet to give my future self a huge clue.

So now I have a pile of viable seeds. Do I want all of them? Probably not. Most of the free seeds from magazines or trade shows will go to a seed swap. There's also seeds that didn't do well for me (Cherokee Trail of Tears beans) or the end product didn't justify the time and space. Or I've seen a new variety that I want to try, so the current ones won't get used. These are all valid reasons to reassess what I've got. Topped up with regular rounds of hot drinks and toast, it's a very cathartic exercise for a wet (or snowy) afternoon when I don't fancy being outdoors.

Getting organised
With a decluttered seed box and a list of what to order,  finally I turn to the seed catalogues. I'll always want to try more seeds than are on my list but, armed with a wishlist to make notes and The Plan, I'm far less likely to succumb to temptation.

I've noticed that a few magazines have got calendars of when to sow and harvest crops.  This is very general and depends on the weather and soil temperature where you live but my next job will be to organise my seeds by their sow by dates and note that in my garden diary.

How about you? Do you reorder everything fresh each year or try to use what you've already got?

Seventeen, going on Eighteen

I feel a bit silly writing a review of 2017 a couple of weeks after the new year started and long after I started planning for 2018 but, while it seemed there was a lot to be glum about last year, looking back I've found quite a bit to perk me up.  I want to park my thoughts on last year so, in no particular order, here we go.

Yay! spring is coming! Late winter is all about the flowers

We're well into the beginning of January (or, as I prefer to say, half way through winter) but I trust you all had a really good christmas and New Year? I did. And, possibly for the first time ever, the tree was bought and decorated in good time, looking all twinkly and festive for many days before the big event. A good start to christmas - and, perhaps, a good end to the year.  The tree is now down, along with a tsunami of needles which dropped as I took the tree outside, the decos have been carefully wrapped and restored to their box on high, the indulgent puddings a distant memory. My new garden notebook has arrived and a stock take of the seed box is imminent - before I settle down to read through seed catalogues.

I've got a good feeling about 2018. I started thinking about the year ahead in the breathing space between christmas and new year; without becoming overly optimistic, I'm feeling a renewed sense of purpose and excitement when it comes to gardening. Last year, there were too many personal and work issues which threw a proverbial spoke into my wheels, but I'm nothing if not a gardener, so ... new year, fresh hope, clean slate. Moving forward with intention. Sounds good, yes?

Flowers bringing joy in late spring along with some veg

Every year there are lessons learned and thoughts to bring into the next round of growing so I'm taking a moment to look back at last year because, well, it wasn't all bad.

There were garden shows, plant fairs and trade shows - always a good idea to go to these if you can, you never know who you might get into conversation with or what you might learn. This past year I've met, or met up with, many lovely garden bloggers, writers, designers and brands. I would name names but you'd think I was boasting. 😉

Garden Bloggers

Meeting other garden bloggers was a definite highlight; what could be better than chatting to people whose writing and opinions you admire and, let's face it, who'd pass up the chance of a good garden chat! We bloggers are a fun bunch too. The Garden Bloggers group on  Facebook and Twitter was set up in 2017 and has become a really good way to connect with other bloggers - including the end of month #gdnbloggers chat on Twitter. Worth checking these out if you're not already familiar with them. There's even a small (real life!) meet up planned for early April this year at the Great Dixter Plant Fair, if you're down Sussex/Kent way - check out the Facebook page.

Golden sweet corn in August; glass gem corn in November
(best to let this last one dry on the stem for deep colours).
More achocha (top middle) than I could eat! 

Garden Visits

I do love a garden visit, particularly walled kitchen gardens which, for my money, reign supreme, but it takes organisation and time. Last year, I squeezed in trips to West Dean in Hampshire, Winston Churchill's kitchen garden at Chartwell in Kent and the Skip Garden in Kings Cross, and came away inspired and motivated. The herb, veg and trial gardens at RHS Wisley are also worth visiting throughout the year, although last February my mission was to see the winter borders and to recharge my happy zone with a splash of spring colour on a sunny day. It's a day out that delivers.  Likewise Waterperry in Oxfordshire (an hour's drive for me) - lots to delight in during the summer but I also went in February when I was thrilled by carpets of snowdrops leading to the river walk and the surprisingly beautiful and thoughtful sculptures along the path.

There were other visits last year that stimulated ideas of good plant juxtapositions or unusual plants that will happily grow outside. I was thrilled that I managed to get to Tom Hart-Dyke's World Garden in Kent last September before driving on to Great Comp to see the collection of salvias and dahlias. I saw flamingos wading through the water high above the traffic of Kensington at the Roof Gardens during the GMG summer social and ate cake with Rosemary Alexander (founder of the English Garden School and prolific teacher/author/designer) in her Hampshire garden - one of the garden visits organised by the Garden Media Guild.  I've been a probationary member for over a year now and these GMG group visits are a real perk of membership as we're often the only people in the garden, with behind-the-scenes tours from the head gardeners.

Peaks, troughs and plants

In any gardening year there will be moments of bliss counterbalanced with frustration but, in 2017, I experienced more low points than anticipated.  Involvement with helping at the allotment diverted a lot of my time from my gardens at home, something that needs to be rebalanced this year. Despite that I managed to grow some wonderful flowers and vegetables, including several new plants that will go back onto this year's plan.

Even a badly managed plot will produce harvests!

A few were new to me plants - glass gem corn, Edamame beans, Tiger Nuts (chufa), Squashkin, Honeyboat Squash, Old Boer White squash, Cobaea scandens (cup and saucer climber), pale mini courgettes, 'Berries and Cherries' strawberries from Thompson and Morgan which have deep pink flowers and delicious small fruits; I grew those on my balcony but will transplant them to the garden this year.

Some highlights: My sweet red gooseberries finally fruited in abundance which was very thrilling. I had masses of lovely big Polka raspberries from the veg patch, sweet corn from the plot, squashes! yay!, superb plums from the plot (made into delicious crumble), autumn baby Nantes carrots (well worth resowing in July to get these). Cavolo Nero and curly kale was left to go to seed (the bees love the flowers) but continued to sprout baby leaves and are still growing strongly, and being picked, one year on.  The plants I brought to London from Mum's garden flourished - agapanthus, lily of the valley, eucomis, geum, pieris - all flowered and looked very healthy last summer. Croix lachryma jobi (Job's Tears) bead plants from 2016 regrew as well although there weren't as many beads, probably because I moved the plants into a pot. Job's Tears are not edible, unless you want to grind your own flour, but can be strung together to make bracelets. I advise using a thimble. The daily smile came from several Cobaea plants climbing through the pigeon netting on my balcony where I could see the flowers turn from pale green to purple at eye level, and the huge Scented Pelargonium which scented the air every time I shoved my way past it to step into the veg patch.

Not so good:  There were (are?) whitefly of biblical proportions feasting on my balcony salad and herbs; I'll have to clear everything, scrub and start again. Edamame beans seemed to be okay then struggled to grow and were finally taken down by slugs. Courgette and kale seedlings in the veg patch were eaten overnight, probably also by slugs - literally down to a stump - so I had to start again there. No french beans only broad beans, lovely Braeburn apples were all pinched before they could ripen (and so discarded with one bite taken out, grrr), ditto pears, five quince this year but all went rotten on the tree before being fully ripe, no plums (again) in the veg patch (but loads from the plot). As the veg patch plum trees have never fruited in eight years of growing, they're for the chop any day now ... especially now I have my chainsaw! I started several Physalis (Cape Gooseberry) plants from seed; it looked like I would have an abundance of fruit but none of them ripened before the frosts. Those plants were at the allotment where I thought they'd get more sun but it seems they prefer warmth over sunshine. Next year they'll be back in the veg patch. Leeks were a disaster. And I never got round to sowing any broccoli so no purple sprouting for me this year  - unheard of!

Echeveria and Pilea at home (top middle); Echeveria and string of hearts at Petersham (middle right)

Having never had any luck with houseplants, I dived in for another go, having discovered a few beautiful houseplants at Petersham Nurseries' new Covent Garden store. There I bought a 'String of Hearts' to add to my existing Jade plant (even I haven't been able to kill that one off) - and even got round to repotting Jade into new soil this year. I soon had a little collection of indoor plants to look after - crassulas, an aloe, jade plants, an echeveria and pilea peperomioides, the Chinese money plant. There's even a cardamom plant, for now. So far they're all surviving on a lack of attention and the merest hint of water. 

Last but not least ...

There were honours, which was a bit bizarre.  In January, I was amazed to be told that this blog was listed in Gardener's World magazine as one of 50 new things to try. (I'd never have known but a friend has a subscription to GW.) That's quite an honour given the circulation of the magazine but really bad timing as, having spent a few emotional months clearing my parents' home, my absence here was noticeable. I can only hope that anyone checking out the link stuck around but I seriously doubt it!

So, there we have it.  Another year gone, another year older and, with luck, wiser. Thank you to everyone who read, commented and generally made these pages a nice place to be - it's truly appreciated and I love getting you know you all!

Wishing everyone an excellent year ahead, may the garden gods smile on you.
Caro x

Easy risotto with garden grown Squash(kin)

~ Squashkin, butternut and Old Boer White pumpkin ~

Let me tell you about one of the loveliest and tastiest squashes that I grew this year. I'm never without a butternut squash lurking somewhere in my kitchen so wanted to grow my own this year.  But how much better to grow a squash in the shape of a pumpkin! My eyes lit up when I saw seeds of a new hybrid called 'Squashkin' in the Marshall's catalogue last year and I promptly ordered some. But first, another tale.

I was never the child that tore into Easter eggs or birthday presents, instead I teased out the moment, savouring every tuck in the paper or release of tape, trying desperately to avoid a glimpse of what was inside. I could leave my Easter eggs in their cellophane for weeks and know it annoyed my siblings no end that I still had chocolate long after theirs had been eaten. It was my way of eking out the anticipation and choosing the right moment to indulge. Until, that is, a particularly beautiful Easter chocolate sculpture of birds in a nest with their speckled eggs was left too long in the sun and melted. Dismay, disappointment and regret ensued.

Why mention this now? Well, I've been at it again, prolonging the moment to cook the squashes and pumpkins that I grew this year. Harvested in late October, they've sat in my kitchen ever since, where I can admire their rustic beauty. (Does anyone else feel like that about their pumpkins? I'd grow them for looks alone!) I searched through my cook books for inspiration, something delicious that both my son and I would enjoy. I wasn't sure that he'd be too interested in roasted veg, while soup didn't seem to do this beautiful vegetable justice. (Although I've since found a promising recipe in an old Delia book, rescued from my mum's kitchen last year.)

Finally, yesterday, it was time. After all the cooking and eating of indulgent Christmas fare, I wanted to cook something quick, easy and soothing. Risotto ... with the Squashkin. Way back in spring, I'd been tempted by descriptions of this squash being a hybrid with the thin skin and keeping qualities of a butternut and the superior aromatic flavours of a Crown Prince. So I anticpated that the skin would be easy to slice.  It was - as easy, if not easier than a butternut whose skin had hardened on a supermarket shelf. I also hoped that the flesh had ripened enough. Apparently, yes. (It wasn't a huge pumpkin and took ages to appear - in 2018 I'm sowing earlier.) A check round the kitchen gave me onions, garlic, chorizo, herbs and stock. Dinner was served half an hour later with some butter-fried chestnut mushrooms. (Peas and greens added after photo. Oops.)

😋

I always make extra for leftovers lunch the next day. This was so good that the pot was scraped clean for second helpings. Risotto is so easy to make that I feel silly offering this as a recipe - consider it more as inspiration. Sometimes I use leeks or shallots rather than onions, or stir blue cheese rather than parmesan through at the end, or no cheese at all, or perhaps some chicken leftover from a roast with sliced red bell peppers or a sprinkle of chilli flakes. A risotto of frozen peas and parmesan is perfect for small children - although squash added to that makes it very pretty and just as popular. I just love that the base dish is so adaptable. And there's no need for all that stirring and waiting, although that in itself can be very soothing.  My son, being a student with no time for faffing in the kitchen, taught me to throw everything in after sweating off the onions. He puts his in a big Le Creuset pot, gives it a good stir, pops the lid on and leaves it in a medium oven for 40 minutes. It tastes just the same.

The real reason for writing this post is to suggest Squashkin as a good vegetable to grow next year if you have the space. (Allow one square metre per plant.) The flavour was really good - and definitely superior to supermarket butternut squash and big orange pumpkins. Cooked in the stock with the rice, the chunks of squash softened and absorbed the other flavours and the end result was utterly delicious.  Job done!

---

(Recipe provided for anyone that has never made risotto.)

Easy Squash and Chorizo Risotto for 2-3 people

140g arborio rice
700ml hot stock (I use half home-made chicken stock, half Marigold bouillon)
1 medium onion, chopped finely
2 large garlic cloves, sliced very thinly
Half a large squash, about 600g before peeling
1 teaspoon of dried herbs (or fresh finely chopped thyme/rosemary from the garden)
125g chorizo, chopped into very small pieces (or buy a pack from Waitrose :D )
Olive oil and a half-ounce knob of butter

Add a splash of olive oil to a large casserole pot or non-stick pan. Have the pot over a low flame. Melt the butter in the oil and add the finely chopped onion. Stir to coat and cook on a very low heat until soft and translucent. Don't let the onion pieces burn but a long sweating is good as this sweetens them. Peel, deseed and cube the squash. Add the squash cubes to the onion as you go, stirring in. After 10 minutes or so, add the finely sliced garlic and cook gently for a minute.

Add the rice, stir to coat with the pan juices. Sprinkle with herbs, if using. After a minute, add a good splash of hot stock. Stir. After another minute of stirring, add all the remaining hot stock and stir for a few seconds. Pop a lid on and leave it to simmer, checking every once in a while to give it a stir and make sure nothing is sticking to the pan.

When the rice is soft (I like mine slightly over cooked, rather than 'al dente'), add the chorizo and stir through to heat. (At this stage cheese and/or chopped parsley can be added.) There you go, dish up and it's ready to eat. 

Ways to keep warm while winter gardening

Hands up all those who garden through the winter?  And how many of those hands are currently getting cold while gardening? Or dog walking, foraging, chopping logs? Indeed any outdoor activity during winter. Personally, I find numb fingers very challenging. Well, my lovelies, I've found a solution in the gloves photographed above.

Like many others, I was always told that if you keep your extremities warm (feet, head, hands), the rest of your body would stay warm too.  In the days of coal fires and cold rooms when I was very young, I remember my grandad wore his woolly hat to bed in winter; his head was almost bald so needed the extra protection! My mum made sure that my siblings and I had warm knitted mittens, thick socks, wool coats and hats on before she shooshed us outside - and it worked, we stayed warm and had rosy cheeks from the fresh seaside air ... even if we looked like the Start-Rite kids.

Much more recently, there was a conversation thread on the Facebook Garden Bloggers group about what gardeners wore to keep warm.  It was generally agreed that layers was the way to go, with thermal vests and tights under t-shirts and trousers, and jumpers or fleeces under protective gardening garb. Woolly hats were recommended, thick socks under gardening boots helpful.  A flask of hot water for tea or coffee, essential. Tea, toast, cake and a warming fire something to look forward to at the end of the day; several mentioned the hypnotic allure of a good bonfire in the garden at this time of year.  It became apparent that many gardeners don't stop in winter but wrap up warm and get on with it. Those fruit trees and shrubs are not going to prune themselves.

As for me, I like to be able to move freely so use a lightweight fleece lined jacket over wool jumper and vest, and that does the trick for me. I'm also lucky to have a pair of very warm wellies. Once I get moving, I heat up very quickly. But my hands sometimes get cold, even with leather gardening gloves to take the edge off.  Recently, I was delighted to spot these thermal gardening gloves on the Briers website then saw that they were out of stock. I phoned to ask if they were getting any more in and was told that they'd restocked the day before and would I like a pair?  Ooh, yes please! I wore them for the first time yesterday in the garden and they exceeded all expectations. I emptied trugs of icy water, dug weeds from soggy soil, lifted cold pots and gathered wet leaves with my hands. My usual gloves would have been wet, cold and my hands the same; with these Ultimate Thermal gloves, my hands were toasty warm, dry and comfortable. Need I say more? (Except perhaps that they're washable.)

My opinion? Essential kit for all winter gardening.

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Disclosure: Briers gifted me a pair without asking for a review but they work so well that I wanted everyone to know about them.

Here are the details:
Briers Ultimate Thermal gloves. Now £5.99. Flexible down to -30ºC; double insulated with brushed fleece inner liner for added warmth; foam coated palm for added grip. (The coating also makes the fingers and palm water resistant.) Sizes: Medium, Large, Extra Large. (I have small hands; the gloves were slightly loose but not overly so, and worth it for the warmth they gave.)  Washable.