I am humbled…

   Beautiful fig image found on Flickr here and used under Creative Commons Licence - thank you!

I don't usually run an entire gamut of emotions on a Monday morning - especially before 8 a.m. But this morning this is how it went:

1. Check Little Blog Awards. (Anticipation) 
2. Curiosity - Have I slipped further down the list? 
3. Satisfaction - still holding at 4th place.  (No real glory there, it's only the 7th of the month, but please Keep Voting, people!  Motivated.)  
4. Curiosity - Glance back at Dorset Cereals home page where they have a daily feature called 'Simple Pleasures' - and what is having an Urban Veg Patch all about if not to indulge in same?   
5. Pleasure (see, it works) - today's feature is Figs!  I love figs.   
6. Nostalgia - remember delightful figgy moment in South of France some years ago (it involves pie. And that's all I've got to say about that.)
7. Inspired and Relieved - struggling a bit up to this point about what to write today, previous jottings for post not really wowzy enough. (wowzy? did I just make that up?)   Possible solution now found.
   
8. But, as we're choosing fruit trees (anticipation) for November planting, decide to add this to the order. Optimism.  Check 'About Figs' link for research purposes…  
   
9. Which took me through to BBC Food website.  This course of action is not recommended before eating breakfast, you are liable to eat more toast than you had planned. With extra marmalade. And butter.   (and leads to Hunger - not really an emotion, but I do get quite emotional around food, usually along the lines of love, goodwill, pleasure.)
   
10. And this is what awaited me: (read slowly) "Figs… At their freshest, ripest best, they are lush mouthfuls of soft pink flesh, fragrant and undeniably sensual… "  … uh… more tea, Vicar?
    
11. Determination - to find an apt photo for forthcoming posting (er, actually, this one.)  Not having grown any fig trees ourselves yet, and being reluctant (Sloth) to find a farmer's market (or even, super-market) at dawn (okay, so it was really 7.30 a.m. but I think that counts),  I turned to the internet for visual help.
12. Which is when I found the beautiful photo at the top of this post (Gratitude) … 
13. swiftly followed by finding this:  

 

the totally beautiful Flickr photos of Alessandro Guerani (Respect)  

• So (Escapism) diverted through to his blog … 
• And then… Greed & Gluttony! … found his recipe for Figs with Honey, Almonds and Spices (although it sounds so much sexier in Italian). 
  

And there we have it.  Humbled.  (Not least because this man apparently has rose water in his armoire of kitchen goodness - and uses it! - but also has the most amazing eye for food photography, putting all my efforts to shame.)  I'll just stick to digging.  And eating.  It's what I do best.

Mister Blue Sky… where did we go wrong?

Image courtesy of Edible Playgrounds website (see below) - Aww, so sweet.

Rainy days, colder nights and shorter evenings signal the death of another summer. Call me stupid (err… actually, no, don't) but, yes, I am taken by surprise. Surely, this is indecently early? The last week of the school summer holidays should be filled with tantalisingly warm sunshine to taunt the children with the thought of the glorious days they'll miss once back at school. (Cackles in evil, pantomime way.) And give us gardeners a chance to bimble about happily among the fruit, veg and flowers in that beautiful late summer glow. (Instead of dashing back in to the greenhouse for warming mugs of tea.)

Thoughts of sowing for winter food seem a chilly prospect - especially as we have to prepare more raised beds before the truly wintry weather sets in (adding cold to the current lashings of wind and rain) and I'm therefore glad to have stumbled across the Gardening with Children website and their blog. (Although the blog is more up to date than the website!) The site has been created by Recycle Works to inspire food growing in schools but is also full of fact sheets and gardening tips for family or small plot growers to pull us through to next Spring. There's also an excellent and extensive page on funding options if you're inspired to start a little project of your own.

However, my Top Banana goes to The Edible Playground, a great website well worth exploring and which is given to us by yummy Dorset Cereals*. Dominic Murphy, Guardian gardening guru, gives really good advice. (Go on, try saying that out loud… I did, and it gets worse each time.) There's steps on how to start and, for the inevitable rainy days (in the UK at least), there's a trug full of creative projects to keep teachers, and parents, sane. Oh yes, it's also linked in to the National Curriculum. I'm in awe - they've thought of everything. Gold Star, chaps.

*Ahem. Your attention please while I indulge in a spot of blatant electioneering. We're nominated in the Dorset Cereals Little Blog Awards - and despite opposition from some truly great blogs (I lost half a day to reading and only got to page 5 of their list) we'd love your vote. Or click on the eggcup on the right. Mwah. Thanks lovely visitors. Have a great day!

A tale of radish past…

Just because they're beautiful…

Having searched (and failed) to find suitable recipes to honour our glut of radishes, I bring you instead… Radish Folklore! (gleaned from Garden Action)

Apparently in the old days, when people had time to sit around and discover these things,(probably when I was just a girl), lovers of the humble radish believed that eating them would stimulate the appetite, and be good for hair and nails, teeth, gums and nerves. (This one I can vouch for, being slightly tubby with all my own teeth and of a cheerful disposition.)

Tradition would have it that they help to speed up recuperation from nervous exhaustion. (Those living life in the fast lane should take note.) Constipation is eased by eating radishes. (Well, one never knows, does one? …)

Ancient wisdom reveals that whooping cough, asthma, and bronchitis have also been treated with the radish. Chronic liver and gallbladder disease, including gallstone and kidney stone afflictions, have responded by eating the whole plant. (Oh, surely not! the leaves are so prickly! - perhaps if they're cooked first? I leave you to experiment, should the need arise.)

Or, how about some medieval medical advice for baldness (found on KillerPlants.com - love that name). In 1597, John Gerard wrote in The Herbal: "The root stamped with hony (sic) and the powder of a sheepes heart dried, causeth haire to grow in short space."

Oo, what we did before trichologists (… or Marmite. Remember that ad, UK viewers?)

A Ripening of Radishes…

I'm so excited to bring you this photo, not least because I've been allowed to use L's beautiful Carltonware Lobster plate. Look what we found in the Veg Patch this morning! And not just these, but a very satisfying bumper crop.

But there is a downside as I discovered when I skipped round to share the news with the group. I'm the only one that actually likes eating them. (Gasp!) It seems everyone loves the colour, the shape, the visual contrast they bring to a leafy salad. They just don't like putting them in their mouths. Who knew?

So, chalk this one up to experience. We should only grow what we want to eat. And I need to find either a) lots of radish recipes or b) a stall at the local farmers' market.

Can't resist! Another Dictionary Moment! The word 'radish' is derived from the Saxon, rude, rudo, or reod (ruddy), or from the Sanskrit rudhira, meaning blood, referring to the bright red colour of the vegetable. Sanskrit and Saxon? Now that's what I call interesting, but I may not actually be helping my cause here - all that talk of blood.

Promiscuity on the Patch…

Sowing a variety of lettuce seeds for a bit of late summer salad is proving to be a promising investment. But concern for the appearance of our tender leaves is leading us to a bit of old style matchmaking. We need to marry them off before they're ruined by spending the night with too many pests. (My own sweet peppers were positively decimated overnight by a herd of hungry caterpillars.)

Which leads us down the aisle to companion planting, that old favourite of organic gardeners. Some time in the past, I've read that mint is a good companion for lettuce. Jekka McVicar, in her New Book of Herbs (my copy published in 2002, so now not so new), denounces mint as promiscuous, having cross-bred, inter-bred and generally misbehaved. And who can blame them when no-one can resist giving their verdant leaves a quick squeeze in order to release that glorious smell? But perhaps not what we want, although the leaves of Spearmint (mentha spicata) make lovely tea and add a certain 'je ne sais quoi' to a salad or dish of couscous.

Having researched a little further, it would seem that radishes or strawberries make the ideal partners for lettuce, which is good as we have plenty of those. But I still think we should give those naughty but nice little mint plants some space, even if we do have to contain them amongst the cabbages.

People Need Roots…

"Kiddies" digging in the VegPatch, circa 1960

The urge to grow veg (and flowers) resurrects a fine, historical trend within our community.

When the flats were built in the late 1930s, it was specified that there should be plenty of space for social living and gardening: allotments, raised brick beds, window boxes on each balcony, gardens between - and flower beds surrounding - the houses. The land for the flats was provided by the London Midland and Scottish Railway. It was a triangle of orchard farmland, leftover after the railway line had been run next to it, and had therefore never been poisoned by industrial use.

Irene Barclay*, writing in her book ‘People Need Roots’ (1976), considered that

'the finest achievements are at York Rise, where we had much more space for both communal and private gardens, and for children’s gardens, where the kiddies learnt not to kill worms, and how to wait for seeds to germinate.'  

And, to prove it, here they are, gardening their little socks off in the early 1960s. (The real point of interest here is the garden… that's our VegPatch in its previous incarnation.)

The early York Rise tenants - mainly railwaymen rehoused from the Euston area - had a love of gardening, and Mrs Barclay writes that ‘York Rise’ became famous for its flower and vegetable gardens.

Oh. Great. … so, no pressure there then.

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*Irene Barclay was an architect whose work was instrumental in the early days of the St. Pancras Housing Improvement Society (as our landlord was then known).