Plot pickings

As the summer slowly transitions into autumn, is it all doom and gloom?  No, not at all.  In fact it's almost a relief that I no longer have to think about where to squeeze in a few more plants and can start to think about preparing for the winter garden and planning for next year.  I may have felt slightly deflated at the lack of blooms in my last post but that just shows how wrong I was to focus purely on the floriferous feel of the garden.

High spirits were swiftly restored within a few days by the evening plot pickings.  As with most other veg gardeners, I'm currently able to collect beans, beetroot, chard, radishes, raspberries and Cape gooseberries (delicious but few!) most evenings. As this is small space gardening, I don't get trug loads of produce but tiny tastes are definitely better than none.

We've not done too badly this summer; there's usually enough for me and my occasional helper to have a bowlful of beans and raspberries every week at the moment - and plenty of beans and plot courgettes to hand round to a few neighbours. I like to share when I can, there would be no joy in keeping it all in the freezer for myself.

The courgettes that I planted out rather later than recommended are putting out small fruits; I don't mind as I've already had a courgette/marrow overload from my plot neighbour up at the allotments. And I read of a good tip recently - if you cut off the first tiny fruits, the plant is encouraged to pump out lots more larger sized fruit.  I've done as suggested so we'll see ... and the tiny courgettes have been sliced and added to a creamy bacon and courgette tagliatelle. (Waitrose recipe here, if you're interested.)

The beetroot has been really successful this year (Baby Bona from Chiltern Seeds).  I've been picking plump round beets with a sweet taste - perfect for my morning juice.  (Yes! Beetroot in a juice! It's really delicious in a juice with apples, carrot, lemon, broccoli stem, cucumber and yellow pepper. Yummy and energising!)

So far I've restricted myself to picking only the 'french' beans that I'm growing and saving the Borlotti beans to plump up.  I'm growing 'Cobra' climbing beans which are aptly named;  they're normally pencil straight but, where I've missed a few, they've grown fat and curled round on themselves - more boa constrictor than cobra but the similarity is amusing.

The Borlottis, on the other hand, are perplexing me.  I've seen so many pictures of brightly coloured pink and cream pods - surely one of the reasons to grow them! Mine, however, are pale green pods that occasionally mature to sport some magenta streaks. Is this usual?  It's definitely not what I was expecting. Will they eventually turn pink?  Is there a reason that some pods are streaked and others not?  If you know, do tell.

Of course I may not get any mature Borlottis at all if the munching molluscs keep at it.  Leaves and pods at the top of the plants have been decimated - the slime trails tell their own story.  I mean, really, six feet off the ground - the very cheek of it!

This is one of the tinier munchings - there are pods that are positively naked on the other side. Grrr.

So all I can say is .... thank goodness for broccoli. (Maybe I should get some fleece over that.)

Wildlife Wednesday: searching for late summer nectar

There aren't so many bees in the garden now - compared to the height of summer.  But a steady drone on a warm still evening is very heartening to hear.  The lavender bushes have only a few fresh flowers now but the bees are still finding what's left, as well scabious, comfrey and herb flowers.  The top favourite at the moment seems to be verbena - I have both V. bonariensis and V. hastata growing among the veg here.  The taller V. bonariensis is a bit of a nuisance as it's getting slightly floppy but well worth it for the pollinators it's attracting to the garden.

Yesterday evening here in London, the warm and still evening air could almost make me believe I was holidaying in the Mediterranean somewhere.  

I hope the weather is being kind to you wherever you may be gardening this week!

Move along please; the show's over

As the garden transitions from summer into autumn, a plan to keep the garden looking lovely for a bit longer has been much on my mind.  And never more so than the week before last as my entry for Camden in Bloom was shortlisted and judgement day was on the Friday.

It was a singularly underwhelming event.  The big clue is in the title: "In Bloom". The veg patch garden, at this stage, was not - unless you count a struggling scabious, some scraggy calendula and a few end-of-line sweet peas. After an exhausting week of tidying, deadheading, weeding and planting in the twilight hours between work and nightfall, Friday's dawn revealed grey skies and, as if scripted, heavy rain poured down only and exactly for the twenty minutes that the judges looked around.

There were two of them (one admin, one Mayor), the third wasn't able to attend; pity - he was the gardener, Kew trained, and the only one who might have understood the hard work that went into creating a garden way past its mid-summer heyday. On the plus side, the mayor appreciated the smell of herbs such as Blackcurrant sage and lavender, lingering awhile to release the scent. He'd obviously been told that plants that attracted bees were good plants; once I realised this and the sparse horticultural experience the pair brought to the event, I thought it wise to limit myself to pointing out any bee friendly plants without naming them.  I'm not holding my breath for a winner's medal. The verdict will be announced in late September.

So, moving on, I'm now thinking about how to extend colour in the garden next year. The perennial patch was originally created as an area for cut flowers before I realised how many perennials or self-seeders I had to rehouse. Back in the spring, the space quickly filled with transplanted foxgloves, verbenas, Centaurea, scabious, alliums, achillea, astrantias, poppies, feverfew and ox-eye daisies; to these I added freesia bulbs, cerinthe seedlings, honesty, red clover, Geums and Dianthus barbutus (the tall pinks). On the other side of the path, self seeded nasturtiums put out triffid-like branches that entwined themselves up, around and through sweet peas, calendula, strawberries, verbena, orache. It was a glorious sight ... in June and July.

Admittedly the short sharp bursts of extreme heat experienced in recent weeks haven't helped a garden without easy access to water. Astrantias and the shorter hybrid Achilleas succumbed to parched conditions and now resemble dried flowers, the cerinthe also crisped up and set seed, as did the calendulas. Even nasturtiums that usually politely wait until late summer to start taking over the garden have exhausted themselves and been swamped by black aphids (and now removed).

But ... Always look on the bright side of life says Monty Python star Eric Idle. I paused, thought and concluded that, yes, this is the perfect time to review and rethink.  There were elements of this border that I really disliked, too much green of a similar hue, not enough textural interest. The reality didn't live up to the dream. The challenge now is to change the garden so there's something to look forward to throughout the seasons - isn't that what we all strive for?  It won't be easy in this small space (the entire veg patch island is only 10 x 3 metres (about 33 x 10 feet) with the perennial border just one quarter of that. Thinking cap on.

So, how's your garden this autumn?  

Any regrets, mistakes or ideas for change next year? 

I'm thinking more Stipa grasses and echinacea here - and I'd love a bank of Heleniums if only the slugs didn't get there first, every. damn. time. 

Wildlife Wednesday: Standing room only

What is that tiny creature?
Is that a Minpin in my garden scaling the heights of a salvia branch? 

Let's take a closer look.

Umm... I'm not sure that helps - the image could benefit from being a tad sharper. I like to think that this looks like a tiny winged Ewok standing perched on the ledge of the salvia flower.  Look how his little feet and hands are firmly planted while he feasts.

I'm fascinated by the tiny kingdom of bugs that visit the garden. Salvia flowers are tiny but deep; I've watched bees grab the flower at the base and drill through the sides to get at the nectar inside. This hoverfly could obviously get what he wanted from an easier route in.

The operation was seamless: a horizontal approach to the target, home in, landing gear down, munch. Perfect. This was one of those moments that I always feel very privileged to witness. Nature is awesome.

Happy Wednesday! 

You probably know this already:
Minpins are tiny people who live at the top of trees in the Forest of Sin, as told in Roald Dahl's last book 'The Minpins'
Ewoks are the forest creatures that help defeat the Galactic Empire in the Star Wars movies.

One tomato, two tomat... oh.

Heritage tomato 'Vintage Wine' - yet to mature

Yes indeed, here we are again as summer fades and I have yet to reap a decent harvest of tomatoes for the second year running.  As I roll my eyes heavenwards and raise my eyebrows, I have to ask "Why?" - as in, why is this happening?, why am I bothering? and just why! oh why! My frustration is extreme.

Last year's plants produced heaps of fruit but blight struck before any of it could ripen.  This year I bought fresh seed with thrilling names like 'Banana Legs', 'Vintage Wine' and 'Deep Orange Strawberry', carefully chosen to produce a tempting cornucopia of tomatoes of different hues, sizes and textures for summer cooking and eating. Oh boy, was I looking forward to this!

Sowing, germination, potting on - all went as planned. The seedlings grew at first on my windowsills then outside on my balcony where light breezes ruffled their leaves and strengthened the stems.  I moved the sturdiest into large pots of peat free multi purpose when the weather warmed (I wanted to be able to move the pots around if needed) and left these outside where they would get water and some sun. I rashly judged that I had too many tomato plants and gave some away.

And then the rains came.

Slugs languished in a sensuously drunken fashion at the very pinnacle of the plants, or nestled into the leaves further down.  The sight of this abandoned mollusc behaviour became the norm, even in daylight hours.  I persevered and picked them off, time after time.

Despite the relentless slug sorties, the plants grew and thrived. But, on some, flowers just didn't form. I boosted the plants with the gardener's friend, Tomorite. A few tiny fruits formed but it was too little, too late. I've had two ripe tomatoes from plants given to me by my sister and I live in hope for the few home-grown tomatoes still to ripen: one beefsteak Vintage Wine lately formed and what will amount to a small bowl of Banana Legs.

Banana Legs - these should be as yellow as a .... yep, banana.

Naturally, further research was needed; I've been reading for weeks about other bloggers generous gatherings of luscious tomatoes - or perhaps that was my envious imagination.  Anyhow, the RHS advises that tomatoes, although relatively easy to grow, are prone to physiological disorders ie problems encountered in controlling the plants sensitivity to temperature, nutrients and light.  So... not easy at all then.  Apparently even greenhouse grown fruit are susceptible to problems.  I recall a BBC programme where Alys Fowler built a tiny greenhouse out of reclaimed windows for her tomato plants in a bid to keep blight at bay. Did it work? No. Even experienced growers suffer. And yet, a few years ago, I had plenty of tomatoes from plants literally plonked into the soil on my balcony - they were still chucking out fruit in December!

So what's the answer? Anna Pavord in her book 'Growing Food' writes that many cultivars, particularly cordons, are best grown under glass although can be grown outside if circumstances are right. All my choices this year are a Heritage cordon variety and, without a greenhouse, would have been best grown against a sunny wall for warmth and shelter. The book also advises that tomatoes grown outside do best in soil that has been well-manured and in a different spot to previous year's growth to avoid build up of soil diseases.  Pot grown tomatoes are best fed and watered twice a day in a hot summer. Another fail on my part - I was sometimes too busy elsewhere to check.

I gleaned another clue from Joy Larkcom's book 'Grow your own vegetables': she says most heritage or heirloom tomatoes are late maturing. (There's hope yet.) Cordon types need to have the tops pinched off (stopped) in late summer to let any fruit mature and ripen.

So to summarise, these are lessons to take forward to next year:

• Choose seeds wisely. Very important to find out whether seeds are suitable for outdoor growing. 
• Choose early maturing cultivars to beat blight and poor summer weather.
• If growing outdoors, dig a 12" deep trench and line with comfrey leaves or dig in well rotted manure a couple of weeks before planting out. Tomatoes like a moist free draining soil.
• Find a nice heat retaining wall to grow against. (I'm wondering if a black backcloth might also work?). Hedges are not suitable places to plant as the soil will be too dry. 
• If I must grow beefsteak tomatoes (and I feel I might), treat them like chillies with plenty of warmth and light.
• Try not to plant tomatoes in the same spot; they need a different plot every four years to minimise build up of soil problems. 

It certainly isn't the piece of cake we're led to believe - Joy Larkcom devotes eight pages of her very comprehensive book to the subject of growing tomatoes.

I feel heartened having written this post as there may just be enough time for my tomatoes to ripen - with the right wall to lean on. Next year,  I'll plant early and try them up at the allotments (although I heard there's blight up there this year).  And maybe I'll curb my tendency to opt for beautifully named Heritage varieties, a bit like choosing which horse to back in the Grand National, although 'Outdoor Girl' and 'First in Field' have done well for me in the past.

It would be really good to hear which varieties have done well for other growers this summer with recommendations for a good eating and good cooking tomato. I'm tempted by 'Ferline' - has anyone grown it?

Best seen from above (my chillies, I mean)

I'm such an noodlehead when it comes to gardening thoughts, being easily diverted from my path by the moment - a chance sighting of a spectacular plant or a conversation peppered with useful tips will send me veering off at a tangent.

As a result of this tendency to wiffle about, I tend to post about something and subsequently fail to return to the subject.  I was reminded of this as I heaved one of my chilli plants back onto the bench from the floor - it's put there when my son wants to create a space to sit in my plant stuffed balcony.

When I look out onto my tiny balcony, I see how beautifully the chilli plants are growing.  I last wrote about these chillies as tiny newly bought plants so it's time for an update.

~ Chilli 'Tangerine Dream' ~

Viewed from above, Tangerine Dream is a handsome beast of a plant. I am (usually) pants at growing chillies so, flushed with success, I'm sharing this update to show that anyone can have a go and achieve a beautiful plant, whether the fruit gets eaten or simply admired.

I'll confess that I have no idea how best to use these particular chillies (suggestions invited!) but they are undeniably fun and frivolous as chillies go.  I'm accustomed to the more generic red supermarket chillies for my cooking but was intrigued by the names and trying something a little unusual.

~ Chilli 'Fairy Lights' ~

Tangerine Dream is a relatively mild vegetable chilli while Fairy Lights, being a spice chilli, is considerably hotter, although nowhere near the heat of superhot chillies.  When will they be ready to pick?  I have no idea!  I'm not sure that I want that day to come as these plants are a joy to behold at the moment.  Fairy Lights is currently gearing up to transform its fruit from purple through yellow into red - the colours during this change are sublime.

~ Chilli 'Thai Green Curry' ~

The chilli that I grew myself from seed this year is Thai Green Curry (also from Sea Spring Seeds); It's another mild vegetable chilli but has long slim pods.  I sowed the seeds just after I bought the other two plants so Thai Green is less developed than those. At the moment there's only one chilli pod but lots of flowers so I'm hoping for more.  This is not such a pretty plant but may well be more useful. It will be good to have a choice for once - surely the whole point of growing your own!

---

Growing notes: (What worked for me)
Buy small or sow early indoors (mid-February)
Pot on into 10 litre pot when plant is about 3 inches tall. Be careful not to handle the stem.
Use good multi purpose compost; mix in added fertilizer, eg chicken manure pellets
Water when top 2 inches of soil in the pot feels dry.
Give a boost by watering in additional plant food, eg, liquid seaweed.
Grow in a mild sheltered environment - next to a sunny house wall is ideal.

Both of the purchased chillies have been very sturdy healthy plants that have grown steadily.  I followed the advice given by Sea Spring Seeds at purchase and repotted the plants into their final 12 litre pots using good compost (Dalefoot peat free) with added chicken manure pellets.  They've been fed when I remember (but not more frequently than weekly) using either Tomorite, liquid seaweed or even orchid food added to the watering can; all promote flowering and fruiting. I watered when the soil felt dry at a couple of inches depth.  I didn't move them on from 12 litre pots because, with three chilli plants growing, that's all I have room for on the balcony.  Even so, the plants are a good chunky size.

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Love me Tendril - growing broad beans

Have I mentioned that I did a double sowing of broad beans this year? It was an experiment on several levels:  I wanted to see if I could successfully extend the broad bean harvest with two sowings, and this second sowing was also a trial of Marshall's Seeds Red Epicure beans which they kindly sent me.

Just over two months later, I'm very pleased with the results. I have a second crop of beans. The seeds were sown direct in mid-May, every one germinated within a couple of weeks and the plants grew strongly. There were no pests (the benefit of late sowings) and the plants quickly matched the first sowing in height. The flowers were as expected (white/black) and prolific, the promise of many pods to come.  Which they did. I picked a few at the finger pod stage; those tiny beans, eaten straight from the pod, were delicious - on a par with, if not surpassing, my favourite Karmazyn beans. The mature pods are beautifully shiny and bright green, the beans inside shiny skinned like little red conkers. The skins allegedly stay red when lightly steamed but I'll be skinning them for a summer salad or a bowl of Bean and Mint hummus.

Above: 5 weeks after sowing. Red Epicure in first rows in front of Karmazyn at back with pods.

7 weeks after sowing.  In flower while Karmazyn beans behind are ready for picking.

10 to 11 weeks after sowing. Pods looking good but leaves have a tiny touch of rust. Solution is to prune the leaves off.

Red Epicure beans looking pink in the evening sunlight.

I'll definitely be growing these again next year, especially now I have the allotment space to grow a lot more - who wouldn't love the look of pink beans to brighten a plate of food!

Full of beans! Want an easy recipe for Broad Bean + Mint Hummus?

Did you know there's a whole web page dedicated to bean words?  I came across it seeking inspiration for this post title;  let's face it,  there are only so many ways you can sell a post about beans!  My favourites? (and I will try and work these into future posts) Clan of the Cave Bean, Love me Tendril and The Unbearable Lightness of Bean. No? Alright, then.

But I digress... When the pods get too big or I have too many broad beans, instead of just freezing the pods, I dig out this recipe; it's quick, easy, delicious.  If I ever get time to loaf around with a glass of wine/beer/gin (not in the same glass or even sitting) one warm balmy evening, this would be the perfect accompaniment, dipped into with some flatbreads, pitta or other dippers of choice. I mean, why buy supermarket hummus when you can easily make your own - and even better if the veg has come from your own patch! I found the results good enough to justify growing beans just for this purpose. I do love my snacks.

Have I mentioned that I did a double sowing of broad beans this year? It was an experiment on several levels: I wanted to see if I could successfully extend the broad bean harvest with two sowings, and just over two months later, I'm very pleased with the results. I have a second crop of beans.

The seeds were sown direct in mid-May, every one germinated within a couple of weeks and the plants grew strongly. There were no pests (the benefit of late sowings) and the plants quickly matched the first sowing in height. Bonus beans that feed the soil with nitrogen ready for the pot grown winter brassicas to be planted once the beans are cleared.

Above: 5 weeks after sowing. Red Epicure in first rows in front of Karmazyn at back with pods.

Rain stopped play (again)

Is it summer - or have I missed it?  The school holidays, which will always equate with summer in my mind, have just begun and yet it feels as though the garden is almost at its autumn crescendo. Flowers are starting to fade and yet veg (beans, courgettes, broccoli, beetroot) are just getting going - admittedly, that one is down to me sowing late.  I have only a few precious hours each week to spend in my garden and the roller coaster weather has not been conducive to gardening when time allows.

However, last Monday I found myself with an unexpected day off, a day to myself that I immediately earmarked for gardening. It was the best possible way to start the week - I wish every week could be like that!  With one eye on the weather (rain forecast for mid-afternoon),  I had firm intentions of potting up some seedlings and planting out a few pots intended to fill gaps left by summer plants having done their thing.

At least that was the original plan. As soon as I got into the garden I noticed plants needing deadheading (geums, calendula, leucanthemum, centaurea, sweet peas), plants needing bringing under control (nasturtiums, oregano, horseradish) and plants needing tying in (asparagus ferns, more calendula, scabious). This is the garden tidying that I usually do in early September, if memory serves. The overall look of the garden is currently at the forefront of my thoughts as I rashly entered into Camden in Bloom again a couple of weeks ago. There was one evening when the garden was looking awesomely lovely and I rushed to get an application form in. Naturally, it's all gone to pot since. There's no news yet as to who might have been shortlisted but, if I get through again, I'm considering telling the panel not to bother coming over.

~ the garden looking quite spanking a few weeks ago, ie before my Camden in Bloom application ~

As I was on a roll with my garden tidying, I also had a go at the raspberries. So far, it's not looking like a brilliant year for raspberries (historically, I pick regularly from early July, even though they're autumn raspberries) so I decided to cut out the weak spindly stems, water and mulch. Leaves on some canes were yellowing -  possibly inter-veinal chlorosis (a sign of magnesium deficiency in older leaves) or possibly due to the soil having become baked dry (clay soil) or even lack of water in this stop/start summer we're having.  I'd read that raspberries like a slightly acid soil and I had a bag of Dalefoot Ericaceous Compost in reserve so plonked a bit of that around the canes and let the forecast rain water it in.

It's incredible how much can be achieved with a deadline (rain showers) looming. In the end, though, I didn't get any planting out done but managed to get a several bags of green waste to the recycling centre before the rain started and afterwards returned to send a host of snails flying over the railway fence as they celebrated the damp weather by making a beeline for my plants.  All in all a very satisfying day.

And, for the record, here's where I'm at with the food growing in early August:

Cobra bean flower (no beans yet but plants climbing vigorously), 

Raspberries (only the tiniest handful of raspberries so far)

Beetroot (looking quite promising)

Redcurrants (three tiny strings that the birds missed. Strike one to me!)

There's also achocha, chard, broccoli, radishes, baby kales and, hopefully at some point soon, tomatoes and spinach.

The weather's cheered up slightly since Tuesday's downpours so, in hindsight, maybe this summer isn't so bad after all!  How's everyone else feel about this summer?  Just about on target or lagging behind?  Things seem to be different all over the country!

Bye Bye Cherry Pie

Not that I would have made pie but the post title sums up the mood here. This is a tale of frustration and regret which I write purely as a lesson learned for next year.

~ Looking good but not quite dark enough for Morello cherries ~

I have abandoned any hope of cherries this year which is ironic if you've read anything that I've written about cherries in previous years.  I've banged on about how I've struggled to find a use for the Morello (sour) cherries that I grow here. Morello would not have been my first choice of cultivar but this is what I have from a group decision at the start of the veg patch. Because of the sour taste, the fruit is best used for jam making or cooking.  I have one neighbour who likes to eat them raw and she usually has her pick of the crop. Not this year.

This year was different; I was actually looking forward to a huge haul of cherries! :o)  I'd made cherry chutney last year, having singularly failed to make a decent jam that wasn't cloyingly sweet.  I recently opened a jar of said chutney ... and, to my amazement, the taste was extremely good. Unfortunately, I'd given most of it away.  No matter, I'd make some more - or would I? As it turns out, no.

Stupidly, I overlooked some crucial points.  I didn't net the fruit. This followed the pattern of previous years because I've had no problems with birds eating the fruit - until now. I also failed to monitor the fruit as it ripened.

~ Slightly shaded tree, mid-July; still plenty of unripe yellow cherries ~

This year the rain ensured a bumper crop, almost completely negating the 'June drop' where about a third of the fruitlets turn brown and drop from the tree. The fruit started to go from gold to pink at the beginning of July and then, in the blink of an eye, had turned red and soft.  I'm used to the fruit turning a deep red before picking as it can be really tart otherwise. So I waited.  Two weekends back, I caught a neighbour chatting on his mobile phone while absentmindedly picking my cherries and eating them! A request to desist was uttered in no uncertain terms.

But the cherries continued to disappear as they ripened. The next day, all the fruit was stripped from the top branches leaving the tree looking more like a cactus than a fruit tree.  But I found the culprit - a huge wood pigeon flapped away from the tree as I approached.  Mystery solved, but too late.  A friend whose flat overlooks the garden tells me that she's seen other pigeons on the trees and ants are now enjoying the juice from any remaining fruit.  So I think I'll pass, thank you.

~ Bird damage; so many fruits fall as the birds peck ~

So what's the big lesson from this? I absolutely must net the cherries as soon as the fruit appears in future years!  The fruit ripened from yellow to ready in just 10 days. Take your eye off the ball and you/I've had it.

For anyone who has sensibly netted their cherries and therefore has some to cook with, here's  my cherry chutney recipe, taken from Beryl Wood's book 'Let's Preserve It'.

Plus a few notes on growing sour cherries for jam or a traditional American cherry pie:

• Morello cherries are incredibly easy to grow as they're self-fertile and will grow in part shade in a north facing spot.  
• If you choose the right rootstock, they're also ideal for a small garden; mine are now in their seventh year and are no more than six feet tall. 
• They are practically maintenance free, maybe a bit of light pruning of crossing branches and that's it.
• Watch out for baby trees from dropped stones - I pull out half a dozen tiny cherry trees every spring! 

Summer Spinach

~ New Zealand Spinach ~

Just three short weeks ago, I wrote that the spinach that I'd sown was doing really well along with some chard.  I should have kept quiet because, of course, it has bolted. So, one cut of leaves and then flower spikes.  Not really what I had in mind.

Spinach really doesn't like a lot of heat.  Traditionally it's a leaf crop that can be sown in early spring and again in the autumn for a winter crop.  Depending on the variety and mildness of your winters, you can protect your autumn crop with cloches and harvest right through the colder months.

That doesn't really sort me out for now though, does it?  There are alternatives, of course.  Perennial spinach, mountain spinach (Atriplex rubra aka red orach) and the chenopodiums (Good King Henry and Magentaspreen) but, in my book, nothing beats a good old plate of real spinach - smooshed into a smoothie, wilted into pasta or dhal, stirred into a stew, tossed and dressed in a salad. I eat a lot of spinach.

So what's a gardener to do?  It looks like summer has finally arrived (for this week, at least) with heat and sun aplenty so the first thing is to look for a shady spot in the garden - or create one with cloches or plants.  I'm not growing sweet corn this year which would provide shade for spinach but I am growing my own beads in the form of Job's Tears (Croix lachryma-jobi), a plant with similar sword like leaves - exciting, huh? I'll tell more about that project later :o)  Spinach seeds can be sown in between those plants and the tall broad bean plants from my second spring sowing.

The next box to check is the soil - as always!  Spinach likes a good 30cm (12 inches) of fine nutrient rich soil that retains moisture. Regular watering (twice a day, roots only) is also key for summer spinach - don't let your spinach dry out, which is probably what I did when temperatures soared. My bad. So make sure your soil is lump free and add nitrogen with blood, fish and bone or chicken manure pellets.  The spot I've chosen won't need extra nitrogen as I'm cutting down the winter sown broad beans to make a space, leaving behind the roots with their nitrogen fixing nodules. I might also dig in a spade or two of Dalefoot's latest addition to their excellent range: peat free compost for Vegetables and Salads.  It's a wool and bracken compost that I've been trialling and is lovely to use and, so far, has given good results.

And last of all: seeds.  For this, I turned to Chiltern Seeds. Why? Because their brochures and range are excellent plus they're located near to where my niece lives ... which shouldn't matter, I know, but I like local and family. Their beautiful website provided several options so I rang them and asked for help in choosing seeds to sow now.  They've kindly sent me two options: 'Giant Winter' (a true spinach with large leaves for winter and spring use) and 'New Zealand Spinach' which is a spinach lookalike - Latin name Tetragonia tetragonioides.  Rather excitingly, it's a low growing spreading plant that originates from the stony beaches of the Antipodes and will tolerate some drought, although the taste is best when grown in moist soil. According to the PFAF database, it cannot be grown in the shade and is an evergreen perennial.  Chilterns sell the seed as a half-hardy annual so this is going to be a plant worth watching.  An edible beach plant - what's not to love!

Spinach lovers, I'll let you know how my trial goes.  Has anyone else had success with summer spinach?  And have any Antipodean readers grown New Zealand spinach - I'd love to know!

PS.  I've just been chatting to my plot neighbour at the allotments this morning - he always grows New Zealand spinach for his wife who is from NZ and tells me that this year two sowings of this spinach failed to germinate. It hasn't been a problem in previous years so I'm wondering whether the erratic temperatures this year have been to blame - spinach prefers a soil temperature of between 50F to 72F to germinate.

Too hot for gardening

Spotted in the garden: either a baby cricket or the aphids are now on steroids

I've been sheltering from the heat for the last few days.  Mmmm, wow.  Amazing, given this damp, gloomy and often barely warm summer we're having here in the UK.  Just three weeks ago it was chilly enough to want some heating on yet on Tuesday it was 35C (95F) in North London. Thirty-Five Degrees!!  Luckily I have lovely cool floors (terracotta tiles and wood) and windows that are designed to keep the heat out in summer. Even so, the temperature indoors rose to 27C which is still a bit on the sticky side for my liking and definitely too hot to be outside gardening. Yes, I know. Wimp.

Some plants are also finding this heat a bit much, especially when combined with a brisk breeze which is what we had yesterday. It's crucial to check the soil around plants for dryness morning and evening in this weather -  wind can be just as damaging as hot sunshine. If you forget and plants get a bit wilted, just move them into the shade and give them a good big drink of water.  I've just had to do this to one of my chilli plants that I'd moved to the edge of my balcony to grab a few rays - chillies like heat, right? - but noticed that it was looking rather sad and windswept within a couple of hours.  Shade and water perked it up in no time.

It's all a bit overwhelming and I'd much rather have some constant gentle sunshine (and rain!) rather than these extremes we're experiencing. How's everyone else doing in this heat?  Me, I'd quite like a nice cool night's sleep!

The past few weeks have been somewhat of a whirlwind for me, accustomed as I am to my simple life of home, work, garden, write.  I've been to shows, I've been to gardens - and, unexpectedly, I've been to Leeds.  My son and his stuff needed to be collected in my tiny car the weekend before last; I wasn't anticipating spending the weekend cleaning the little house he and two friends have just moved into but, on closer inspection, it was another necessity. You know how it is, student life doesn't stretch to much cleaning and the previous tenants appear to have been heavy smokers to boot.  The solution was to glove up and get on with  it - parents are gifts that just keep on giving!  While clearing rubbish from the flagstone back yard, I did note that it would look much better for a few pots and perennials in the tiny back border - one to think about for the return trip!

I'll be doing a few catch up posts about shows and garden visits but, for the past weekend and this, I'm really happy to be back in the garden here.  There's lots to be done. There's still time to sow a last round of carrots, some more beetroot, french beans, chard, kale and lettuce - not to mention the continuous deadheading to be done.  And a question: can anyone tell me if I can prolong flowering of Sweet Williams by deadheading?  I've absolutely loved having them in the garden this year but they're all starting to die back now, too soon for my liking!

Brrrr - It must be the beginning of July

I haven't written much about the veg patch for a while so I nipped down to the garden on Friday evening to take a few snaps and found that not only were strong winds whipping the plants to and fro but it was really really chilly outside.  I went home and turned the heating on ... in July!!  What is happening with our summer?

I persevered on Saturday morning (equally chilly out) and, using a fast shutter speed on my camera, focusing manually and checking the focus with a little button on my Canon that allows me to zoom in on the view screen, I managed to get snaps that show where I'm at in the veg patch.



There's some good, some not-so-good and then some things that I've got behind with.  Cherries are going to be brilliant again this year. Even more so than last year because the rainfall has kept the 'June drop' to a minimum. (Good, because Morello cherry chutney is scrumptious. I hope I've written the recipe down.) Plus, all this extra water seems to have brought the autumn fruiting raspberries on a treat - I've already had a small handful!

Yet again, there are no signs of any plums (while the tiny Victoria plum tree at the allotment has lots of fruit), only a few pears (but at least that's better than none!) and only one of the apple trees has fruit. Hmm, wonder what's going on there?  The quince is looking good and has held on to 8 quinces so far and my Physalis bush, aka chinese gooseberry, (grown from a seed in 2013) is just starting to produce flowers. I love this plant; the leaves are so velvety and the fruit delicious. Well worth growing.



I'm having to start again with curly kale and cavolo nero as the whole lot has been mollusc munched into oblivion but the chard, spinach and broccoli are doing well and haven't been touched. Odd. My courgette plants were grown in pots on the balcony as a result of all this midnight munching and are now ready to go out. Late, I know. Still, you never know, it might be alright - the only race I'm running is the one against autumn!

Equally, only one of my climbing beans has been slugged.  The beans were sown late and are growing extremely well. I sowed two beans, slightly apart, in each position in case of slug attack so, with luck, I'll have plenty of beans this year.  I'm growing 'Cobra' and 'Barlotto Lingua di Fuoco' - both from Chiltern Seeds.  I think I'll try some of these up at the allotment as well; they seem to be from good, vigorous stock!

I've been snacking on broad beans for a few weeks now (like everyone else, I assume!). I like to munch on the raw baby beans as I wander round the garden.  The remaining pods are bulking up nicely (again, thank you rain) and the plants are still aphid free with no squishing or squirting. Amazing. I sowed a second crop of beans in mid-May, this time a heritage bean 'Crimson Flowered' from Pennards and 'Red Epicure' (right, above) which Marshalls Seeds sent me to try. I wanted to give Red Epicure a go as the beans are red skinned and stay red when lightly steamed, allegedly. So far, all I can report is that the plants are strong and healthy and have a lot more flowers than my Karmazyn beans. Watch this space for more about these as we go.



What can I say about red orache? It comes back every year from seeds blown across the garden, doing me proud and filling a few gaps - red orache (Atriplex rubra) is both edible (aka mountain spinach) and ornamental so I've moved a few seedlings over into the 'drought' border and left a few behind in the veg patch.  And remember the achocha that crashed to the ground at the end of last summer? A few of the seeds must have popped out of the pods because I've got 3 unexpected plants that need something to climb up - and soon!

The asparagus crowns are now only putting out narrow stems which I'll let grow into ferns so the crowns can re-energise for next year; I'll carefully move the crowns up to the allotment in the winter in the hope that they'll fare better up there.  This year I must have had only a dozen spears from five crowns over a six week period. Their very existence was in jeopardy until I got the allotment plot as the bed could be better used for salad leaves (slugs notwithstanding).

And, finally, because this is such a long post (sorry), I'm growing rainbow carrots and a radish called 'Caro' - how could I not grow that one! :oD

So, there we are - the not so quick round up.  And I didn't even mention the flowers and the herbs which are just amazing this year and giving me lots of joy.  I'm wondering how everyone else is faring - slugged out, coping or already harvesting masses of edibles?

The forecast is dry for this week and I have a few days off work so this could be a good week for gardening.  And, tomorrow, I'm off to Hampton Court flower show.  Have a good week, everyone!

My new cool allotment

Hard to believe I'm still in London!

A few years ago, a local friend invited me up to see her allotment at Fitzroy Park up near Highgate. She's an artist so her plot was quirky, filled with colour and fabulous. Other plots around were similarly individual. I instantly fell in love with the place, a peaceful haven at the top of an old farm lane and next to Hampstead Heath. I was unlikely to ever achieve my dream of having a plot there because the waiting list was closed and plots rarely given up.

A few days ago, that same friend asked if I'd be interested in a plot share. The plot belongs to a local lady in her 80s.  She took on the plot after her husband died and together they've gardened the plot for 46 years.  That's something, right?  She can't manage the plot alone but likes to go up there to see old friends and potter about.  There must be a lot of memories attached to that piece of land.

My friend's daughter had been helping out but she found it too challenging once her baby was born; as a result, warm weather, rain and time started to wreak their effects on the plot.  And that was when my friend sent me a text to see if I was interested.

What do you reckon I said? A bit of a no-brainer, that one! Although I did pause momentarily to think whether I'd have time for it but, honestly, how could I refuse! An allotment share! At Fitzroy Park! Wowzer!

To put this excitement into context, I should explain that these allotments are highly desirable, being in a secure location on old farm land, high up, surrounded by the trees of Hampstead Heath yet with a lovely open aspect. The community is pretty great there too, from what I can see.

I went up on Saturday to meet Doreen, the plot holder, and take a bit of a gander round.  I was introduced to several other plotters who were all very welcoming, even letting me take shelter when the rain started.

Doreen has one of the smaller plots which has been well looked after but there were still brambles to be dug out, bindweed and nettles to clear, pruning to be done, blackcurrants to be netted and grass to strim.  A couple of beds were buried under a blanket of weeds and bolted vegetation so that was where I needed to start.

Doesn't look too bad, after strimming the paths and grass ...

On the other hand ... Don't look to the left! Still, nice bench. 

I was keen to get started so set off early on Sunday morning to walk up to the plots. Eventually I'll get a parking permit for my car but until then it's a half hour walk up a steep hill, past Arts and Crafts houses, verdant verges and glimpses of the Heath.  By the evening, I'd almost cleared and roughly dug over the beds and filled 8 bags of garden waste which I'm told I can take to plot holder Mick's "crusher" so he can turn it into compost. Several people who I'd met on Saturday said hello and I met my plot neighbour who offered me half of his beautiful red cabbage plantlets, a very auspicious start to my tenure.

There are drawbacks to balance out all the awesome beauty of this place; I'm told the pigeons are voracious and will strip any plants not netted and the slug problem seems to be much worse than in my home veg patch. (One of the other 'helpers' has been using non-organic slug pellets; that will have to stop.) On the plus side, a few days work will bring the plot up to scratch and there are artichokes, apple trees, blackcurrants, raspberries and the biggest strawberries I've ever seen. A giant patch of rosemary and purple sage, plus feverfew, mallow and a huge blue hydrangea shrub will give me some cut flowers ... and there's a shed (which needs tidying), a bench, a water butt and a nearby tap!  It's all very very joyful. Little old plot sharer me.  Fab.

Fruit and flowers on the plot.  The cherry tree is Sunburst; next year it will be netted and should provide more than just one cherry! 

Ch-ch-ch-chive talking

I love that the rain has made all the flowers bloom spectacularly, especially the purple pompom flowers of chives - they look so good against the green leaves and the bees adore them.  Such is my admiration for this noble herb that I planted a clump in my 'drought' border (the hose doesn't reach there) among perennials, grasses and alpines - to be looked at, not eaten.

The other clump sits, appropriately, in my herb bed where it's currently flowering prolifically.  Every plant (not just chives) is genetically predisposed to perpetuate itself which is why it wants to flower and thus set seed. To thwart my chive into flowering for longer, I deadhead as soon as the flowers start to fade so that new flowers are coming up all through the summer to delight my bee visitors.

The petals of the flowers can be eaten and taste, rather obviously, like sweet onions.  Just pick the individual bulbils off the head and scatter over a salad - with other edible petals, if that's your thing.  For a simple lunch, I like to chop the leaves into an omelette (add cheese as well if you like) and scatter the petals over the top as a garnish - delicious, quick and more sustaining than a packet of cheese and onion crisps!

Of course, all this ch-ch-ch-chive talking is so I can introduce an intriguing dressing that I came across recently - chive flowers with honey and cider vinegar. (Thank you omnipresent Swedish furniture company, recipe below.)  It allegedly pairs well with rocket and mustardy oriental leaves like mizuna and tat soi. Alternatively, it can be used to dress a warm potato salad or pan-fried bok choy, spinach or cabbage.  Mmm, I like the sound of that! (I'm a big fan of eating my greens.)

I haven't tried it yet as I've been on a juice diet to boost my energy levels for the last eight days but am excitedly anticipating making this dressing tomorrow evening for my first salad in a week!

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Honey + Chive Flower Dressing:
(Makes 75ml)
10 fresh chive flowers
1 Tbsp honey (a light honey is best, eg blossom or acacia)
2 Tbsp apple cider vinegar
2 Tbsp olive oil or cold pressed rapeseed oil
Sea salt + freshly ground black pepper

Put all ingredients in a blender and whizz to an even texture. Season with salt and pepper. Pop into a nice jug and use. Simples.

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Why grow chives?  Apart from being a very useful kitchen herb, chives stimulate the appetite and, by extension, digestive juices. Useful for anyone feeling under the weather and less like eating.  Also, chives have antioxidant properties (great for zapping those free radicals) and the leaves are mildly antiseptic.

On a final note, because chives are hardy perennials they die down in winter so here's a couple of ways to have some for the colder months.

Herb butter - mix 4 tbsp of snipped chives into 100g unsalted butter.  Beat well to mix, add 1 tsp lemon juice. Freeze and use within 3 months.  Delicious on a jacket potato.

Ice cubes - but not with water! This is something I would never have thought of but read about in 'Jekka's Herb Cookbook'.  Cut chives late morning, nice green leaves only, wash and dry on kitchen paper. Snip the leaves into individual sections of the ice-cube tray; once full, put the tray into the freezer - do not add water! Freeze for 48 hours.  When that time's up, transfer to freezer bags. Get the bags ready as the cubes will defrost rapidly, take the tray from the freezer and immediately pop the chive cubes into the freezer bag and return to the freezer straight away. These portion sizes are ideal for a winter omelette.

Personally, I'm loving the idea of chive ice-cubes - hope this post has been useful to a few folk!

Bumble and Pod

Not much, but at least there were flowers!
Supper of mint tabbouleh, steamed asparagus, salad + chive flowers, yoghurt and rhubarb compote. 

I've been struck by the 'hungry gap'.  I had this covered last year with plenty of kale, broccoli and chard to pick but this year I have failed abysmally. Blame has to lie somewhere so, yes, I am going to point my finger at the weather.  The mild winter encouraged my broccoli and kale to bolt in January, leaving me with nothing. Still, the bees enjoyed the early nectar-fest from the yellow flowers. The plants have now all been ripped out and composted leaving beds ready for the next crop.

But that same mild winter meant that broad beans sown in early February grew well in modules on my balcony. Although they were slightly sheltered from the cold wind, it was a chancy experiment as Karmazyn beans are not as winter hardy as, say, 'The Sutton' or 'Aquadulce', beans that are bred to be sown in November.  My beans were planted out in mid-April and have been flowering for the past few weeks - some of them already have small two inch pods among the flowers and the bumbles are all over them.  (This is unusual for me but perhaps less so for other gardeners; I've checked my notebooks and see that I usually sow later in mid-April.)

I've been checking on them regularly, not for pods but for the dreaded black aphids.  And this is where (finally) it gets interesting. I have squished a tiny amount of aphids on a couple of the plants but (dare I put this in writing?) they're otherwise aphid free. (For now.) This is excellent news as I haven't yet pinched off the top leaves of my plants which are insanely delicious steamed and served with a knob of melting butter and a grind of pepper.  The meal appeal dwindles if you have to wash a large colony of black insects off first.

Bizarrely, just across the path in my herb bed, less than a metre distant, the angelica is clogged with black aphids as is a nearby feverfew plant. Has anyone else experienced this selective colonisation or are your beans under attack?  Or is this one of the benefits of planting earlier?  If that's true, then early sowing is an experiment worth repeating.

Disgusting, right?  I'll spare you the extra large view of these photos. 

One difference that I've noticed is that my beans are radically shorter than in previous years when I've sown direct into the ground in mid-to-late April.  Karmazyn bean plants last year were a good metre plus tall by the time they podded, even after having their top growth removed.  This year, the plants are about 60cm (24 inches).  I've sown another few rows of beans as I was sent some Red Epicure beans by Marshalls to trial plus I had some crimson flowered beans leftover in my seed box. Let's see what will happen with those ... I'm guessing I won't be so lucky next time.

Oh, hey - the sun has come out since I've been typing!  Looks like it's going to be a fine day (at last!) so I'm nipping off to the garden to make the most of it.  Happy gardening Sunday!

Torn between two gardens

Photos from late April: Honeyberry blossom, pear blossom, blueberry buds. 

I make no apologies for my absence here on the written page because, yet again, the gardening year has pounced before I'm completely ready.  One blog post a month? Shame on me! Still, all in a good cause - both the veg patch and the new 'middle garden' (so-called as it's bang-slap in the middle of the flats where I live) have both been dominating my time out of work hours, right up until the sun sets in the evening - but only on the evenings when I have the energy to garden after working a 10 hour day.

I thought the hard work in the veg patch was over and done last year when I fenced around it to keep cats and foxes out.  But, with me, there's always another good idea lurking - which is not to say that good ideas and the time available are necessarily compatible. That said, this spring I've reworked the veg patch: a perennial flower border has been created plus a new run of Polka raspberries; old rotten raised beds have been chucked out and replaced (with some neighbourly help) with scaffold board edging. The herbs have been dug up and replanted together into one area and a dozen or so Rosemary Beetles have met a terrifying early death under my boot. I'll spare you the view of the carnage. (By the way, keep an eye out for these pests because they'll swiftly decimate not only rosemary but also lavender and sage. I've previously written about them here.)

The above mentioned fencing project of last year is, by necessity, back on the agenda as the idea was sound but some of the bamboo canes weren't up to the task and have bent.  I blame small children leaning in to reach for the raspberries. Anyway, a nice chap up the road donated four tall tree stakes when he heard about the garden and these will be used as replacement corner posts.  One is in already as I had a chance to dig deep into a corner when I put up the trellis for my sweet peas a couple of weeks ago. The others will have to wait as excavating London clay is no laughing matter for my back.

Despite all this (and more), there have been many evenings and weekends when my first love has had to give way to the usurper - the middle garden. The vision for this garden is to bring it back to life as a welcoming space to relax in, preferably with dozens of flowers-for-cutting among nectar rich shrubs and perennials.  I know what I want but it will take a long time to get there -  no quick three week Chelsea build for me!

After lots of staring at the garden from my second floor window, I realised that until I cleared the extensive ivy and hugely overgrown hedges, it would be impossible to realise the garden's potential.  17 large bags of garden waste, a pile of brick rubble and 7 huge mounds of hedge prunings later, I feel we're getting somewhere. (As luck would have it, a neighbour is also enthused about the idea and her gardening talents have been well deployed.) There will be more details in my next post but at last I can now measure the garden so I can start planning! It's taken quite a few long days over many weekends during which time the veg patch has had to make do with just an evening or two of weeding.

There's two lessons that have come out of this - one, never ever plant ivy in a small garden unless you have time to maintain it and, two, weeding is probably the most important task to keep on top of in the garden. A bit like painting the Forth Bridge but, nevertheless, essential.

Back soon ... hope you're all enjoying the Chelsea Flower Show, in person or on tv.  You'll notice that I didn't go this year as I stupidly missed the deadline for both tickets and a press pass.  Duh.