How to cheat at growing herbs

I use a lot of herbs in salads and my cooking and, until the growing season gets going in late spring, I find myself paying for pots of supermarket herbs knowing there is every likelihood that they'll keel over before I've finished using them. This seems to be especially true of my favourite herb, coriander (which you may know as cilantro).

It's been the same story with parsley, thyme and chives - in fact every bought herb!  But no more.  I have a built in windowbox on my balcony, just 9 inches depth and width (front to back) with a length of 70 inches. At the beginning of winter, I transplanted some shop bought parsley into the windowbox thinking this might lengthen its useful life by a week or so.  It's still flourishing.  Several weeks ago, I did the same with a pot of coriander.  Same story.  In fact, both have grown and are looking very lush. 

So, whether you want to avoid the wait for home-sown herbs or simply to extend the life of your shop-bought herbs, here's how to do it.

As soon as you bring pots of supermarket herbs home, take off the cellophane wrapper, give them a good watering if the soil feels dry and prepare a hole in your planter, terracotta pot or window box.

If you're starting a planter from scratch, use multi-purpose compost - and, if you have any, add several handfuls of perlite or grit added for drainage.

The hole should be at least a third larger than the pot the herb came in.  A tiny sprinkling of bonemeal well mixed into the soil at the bottom of the hole will help the roots to establish in their new home. (Don't worry if you don't have any.)

Take the herb out of its pot, carefully tease out one or two roots if necessary, and place in the hole.  Put the soil back all around the plant, gently firming it in and making sure that the plant is sitting at the same soil level as it was in its pot.  Gently water the soil all around the plant to settle the soil around the roots - and don't forget to keep the soil moist (but not wet) by checking daily to see if more water is needed. (Do this by pushing a finger about 2 cm into the soil; if the soil feels dry, the plant will need watering.)

There.  That should take all of 10 minutes, or less, and give you weeks of lovely fresh herbs*.

Herbs produced for supermarkets are intensively grown with too many plants in the pot to survive beyond the seedling stage.  There simply isn't enough space or nutrients in the pot for the herb to grow well.  By transplanting into a bigger space, the roots can seek out more nutrients and the plant not only survives but thrives! 

*Coriander, parsley and chives respond well to having the occasional stem snipped off and will reshoot (but not forever), especially if the soil around them is kept moist (but not soaking!).  Coriander doesn't normally reshoot, so I imagine that this is because, as the plant is trimmed, smaller seedlings have access to light and air and so grow. Whatever the reason, it works - and it's so great to have fresh herbs on hand!

.............

Typical British spring weather!

Two days ago, on popping down to the gardens, I was astonished by the sight of the blossom on the fruit trees.  The warm sunshine had brought on a display that would have done a bridal florist proud.  Waves of foaming white blossom graced both cherry trees; the apple blossom, although less prolific, was equally beautiful.

Yesterday, as with the rest of the UK, we were hit by gale force winds.  These have eased very slightly for today but I'm anticipating that there won't be much blossom left by the end of the weekend so I'm pleased that I took these photos for posterity.  Only time will tell if the flowers were pollinated in time to produce fruit this summer.  The pears and plums had already lost their blossom so I remain slightly hopeful of some of the trees producing.

For the past few years we've had a blast of warm weather followed by April showers and May gales.  I remember planting out my beans and sweet corn a couple of years ago after weeks of warm sunshine. The next day they were decimated by gale force winds and lashing rain and I had to resow.  This year, I'm being more cautious - I still have lots of seedlings on my balcony. They must go into the garden soon so, once the winds have died down, a nice bout of British late spring weather will do me nicely - and by that I mean cooler temperatures - around 12C (54F) - and plenty of showers.  I've appreciated the warm sunshine while it lasted but now it would be nice to return to a gentle move towards summer.  Well, a gardener can dream ... this is British weather, after all. (And Chelsea flower show starts in 10 days which is pretty well guaranteed to mix the weather up!)

How to grow Honeywort - one of the best bee-friendly self-seeders for your garden

In my last post, the photo of Honeywort (botanical name Cerinthe major 'Purpurescens') flowering ridiculously early certainly generated a lot of comments. It turns out that this plant is a favourite with many folks and deservedly so.

A comment left on that last post asked for advice on growing Cerinthe from seed saved last year.  I have to say that it couldn't be easier.

At this time of year (late spring), you can sow them outside, direct into finely raked soil. Water the soil first and cover the seeds with a bare quarter inch of soil.   You can also do this in autumn (late September) to get them off to an early spring start.

On the other hand, if you only have a few precious seeds, start them in small pots or modules indoors: soak seeds overnight to break down outer casing, sow at same depth of seed (about 2 - 3 mm deep) into free draining soil, wait 7 - 14 days for germination, let the seedling grow a bit before potting on; at about 3 inches tall, with 3 to 4 leaves, harden off and plant outside, leaving about 40cm between plants.

They're a Mediterranean plant and their waxy blue-green leaves are a big clue as to where to site them - a nice warm spot with plenty of sunshine will suit them best and see them thrive.  The soil doesn't have to be anything special, but must be well drained.  Mine grow on top soil over London clay and usually reach about 50cm high.

The stems can get a bit straggly in time and, as the drooping flowers are the whole point, it's quite nice to just support the stems a bit by staking, if you can be bothered. If you plant them closer together, they'll  prop each other up but won't look as nice.

They flower over a long period.  If you're lucky, as they develop you'll get blue-green leaves with deep blue bracts surrounding a purple flower.  This isn't always the case though;  I've had Cerinthe with grey-green leaves and pink flowers in previous seasons.

Remember these plants are really good self-seeders; seedlings will pop up every year once you've had one plant in your garden.  Every purple flower has two fat seeds inside; not all will germinate but it's a good precaution to collect the seed before it drops.

Like Marigolds, etc, Cerinthe seeds can also be sown in the Autumn for earlier spring flowering. They are hardy plants and, once established, will pretty much cope with anything.  Slugs don't like them.  This is the first time that mine have come through the winter.  The warm extended autumn of 2011 meant that I pulled the ropey looking plants much later than usual, giving the seeds time to drop.  The cold and rain of 2012 meant that the conditions weren't right for germination until late summer so my plants were still relatively young by the time winter arrived and were left in situ.

A few gangly sorry looking specimens were put out of their misery earlier this year but the healthier ones were left - and I have early spring flowers as a result. It's lovely to see as other self seeded flowers (nasturtiums, sunflowers, marigolds, orach) are only just beginning to get going.

They're not edible but are a real magnet for bees as the purple flowers are a good source of nectar. They also make an interesting cut flower and will last better if you sear the ends of the stems in hot water for 30 seconds.  Grow them with Escholzia (Californian Poppies), Atriplex rubra (Orach), Verbena bonariensis, Bupleurum rotundiflorum and Linaria (toadflax) for a colourful display.

I hope this post has been useful and will inspire more people to grow these lovely plants.  Seeds are available all over the internet, although they're unlikely (but not impossible) to be found in garden centre or supermarket seed racks.  I started my Cerinthe stock with one small plant bought from Sarah Raven's nursery at Perch Hill and saved the seed each year thereafter.

It's all bloomin' lovely!

I've spent the weekend sowing seeds and heaving out weeds.  I was in the garden by 8 a.m. on Sunday morning, appreciating the stillness and warm sun on my back.  It felt really good to be outside without a  woolly hat and warm coat, reconnecting with the garden and taking the time to really take stock of what was going on.

After the big Weed Out: 16.5 square metres of weed free tidiness, ready for planting.

Mostly it was a case of clearing the weeds (Hairy Bittercress and Chickweed) from the fruit tree border - a job that brought me up close to the blossom on the trees as I have to clamber into the walled border.  There's no rain or frost forecast for at least the next 10 days and the warm weather has certainly got the bees buzzing around.  I am therefore quietly optimistic of having some fruit this year.

One of the cherry trees - a Morello - was relocated to a walled corner last year (just seen in the distance, by the steps); its blossoms are already open.

The other Morello has hundreds of buds just waiting to unfurl...

The apple trees, both Braeburn, didn't produce one solitary fruit last year.  This year I've counted 12 clusters of blossom on one tree alone.  I'll keep an eye on these; if they all pollinate, I'll need to thin some of the fruit later on.  It's the same story with the pears and plums which is just wonderful.

Throughout the garden I'm finding self-seeded Orach (Atriplex rubra) also known as Mountain Spinach.

It's both an edible and ornamental, with edible young leaves - salads or cooked like spinach - and the most glorious bright pink seed pods later in the year.  I bought one tiny plant at an NGS plant sale a couple of years ago. Last year a transplanted self-seeder grew to over 8 feet tall; the dried seed pods looked so wonderful that I left them in situ and the wind has done the rest.  The seedlings can easily be pulled out if unwanted or transplant really well. I shall, of course, keep several for my Salad Challenge.

Can I just indulge and show off these two beauties?  The Cerinthe (aka Honeywort) seed blew into a pot of Lemon Balm last year, grew to a foot high, just about survived the winter and has revived itself to flower early.  One of my absolute favourite flowers, I love the glaucous leaves and purple flowers and grow them to provide food for the bees so that they'll home in and find my beans in the process.

And, lastly, an Aquilegia I bought recently - another Morrison's bargain - that has established really well into my new shady border.  I can't get over how pretty it is and stop to look every time I pass by - which is kind of the point in planting up a border previously used as a cat toilet/rubbish dump.

Btw, that was definitely not a 15 minute blog post! Too many photos. Just came in under one hour. Ah well.

Salad Days are here again

The 52 Week Salad Challenge was pioneered last year by Michelle over at Veg Plotting. The challenge is to grow and eat home-grown salad for as many weeks as you can in the year, hopefully for a full year (even in winter!).  Participants in The Challenge share growing tips and blog posts once a month. I thought I'd missed the boat but the challenge is being run again this year (back by popular demand!) and apparently it's never too late to join in.

I didn't grow any salad last year (the less said about that, the better).  This year the idea of growing a variety of salad leaves has taken hold in my imagination, prompted by Michelle's challenge and Naomi's descriptions of the leaves she's growing.  So, in mid-March I sowed a few seeds in a windowsill propagator, topped it off with perlite and kept the container rotated towards the light.

I'd intended to start by growing a few baby salad leaves from outdated seeds but, 4 weeks after sowing, they'd developed into such sturdy little plants that I've repotted quite a few for growing on outside in the garden.  These are beetroot leaves, Saladin (Cos type lettuce), Cavolo Nero kale, Lollo Rosso lettuce.

Having delved back into my seedbox, I've come up with what I hope will be an interesting mix of leaves for my challenge.

Buttercrunch - an all year round butterhead and Little Gem Cos (Pennard's Heritage seeds)
Mizuna - finely cut leaves, good flavour
Lamb's Lettuce - leaves with a delicate flavour
Bijou - A splash of colour from red frilly leaves.
Lobjoits Green Cos - a tall crisp lettuce, sweet and crisp.
Mixed red leaves, especially for containers.
Mustard - for oriental colour and bite!
Salad Rocket, Purple Choysum and Bull's Blood beetroot leaves (Jekka McVicar seeds)
Salad Burnet (cucumber flavoured herb), Broadleaf Sorrel (tangy leaves) (More Veg seeds)

I've never been averse to chucking a few baby spinach or orach leaves into a salad either.

I always grow nasturtiums, they look so pretty and are very effective at attracting aphids away from other veg;  the leaves and flowers are edible or can be made into pesto so I've grown extra this year.  So far I have Black Velvet, Blue Pepe, Empress of India and Tom Thumb Alaska. Most will go outside into the veg patch but a few are now earmarked for the salad challenge.

Carrots are another interesting one ... I wasn't going to bother with growing carrots this year although I enjoyed the Little Fingers carrots that I grew in pots last year but then I read that young carrot leaves can be eaten as a salad leaf so they're now back on the sowing plan.  I'm looking forward to seeing whether there is any truth in that and will let you know soon!

Conquering the 15 minute blog post

The warm weather over the last week or so has sent gardeners into a frenzy of seed sowing and transplanting, by all internet accounts.  I have not been immune to this as I've previously delayed sowing anything, instead enjoying the relaxed calm of being unable to plant anything out, bar my broad beans and hardy herbs.  This week though, my waking thoughts are concerned with which seeds I can quickly sow before work or in my lunch break, I calculate which plants can be planted out in the hour after work and before dusk falls.  I'm constantly poking my fingers deep into the soil in seed trays to make sure they're correctly watered.  There's a huge amount of seeds to sow and plants to go out and this has coincided with the start of college's summer term, assignments to be completed ready to hand in and a visit to two trade nurseries, as well as digging over and planting up a small shady border at the road end of the garden.

I've taken photos and composed posts in my head but have had no spare time to write anything; so, today, I have resolved to try and master the art of the quick blog post so that I can post more often and keep up with all that's happening.  Well, that's the theory anyway!

And today's photo?  Well that's a sweet pea (Lathyrus odoratus as I have to practise Latin names), growing on my balcony since last year and behaving like a perennial.  It was a pathetic spindly thing that never died at the end of last summer but, as it still had green leaves, I didn't have the heart to pull it out.  I've had greenery all through the winter months and now it's about to flower again.  It's a subtle creamy coloured flower called 'Swan Lake' and very welcome as a sign of the muddled up weather we've had, growing among the mini daffodils, muscari, violas and herbs in my balcony window box.

Hmm.  30 minutes. Not bad.  Over and out.

Hort Couture

Looks like it's going to be a good weekend for being outdoors, but I've already been making the most of the dry but cold weather of recent weeks to start the process of reclaiming another of the long walled borders.  For the ten years that I've lived here, this border has become increasingly overgrown without any annual maintenance with the result that it had begun to take over the adjacent path.

Two summers ago the Hebe at the far end was covered with pink blossom and hundreds of bees busily gathering nectar.  Everywhere I looked, busy, busy bees.  Last year there was no blossom and no bees.  The shrub seemed tired and neglected; lots of spindly twiggy branches under a very shallow but dense canopy of leaves - and sitting in a bed increasingly filled with plastic rubbish.  It was time for some drastic action, especially while the weather remained cold and before any spring growth appeared.

So over the Easter weekend (and spurred into action by my visit to Great Dixter), I wrapped up against the Siberian winds and popped down to the garden with my pruning saw, secateurs and lots of green waste bags.  I meant to just make a start but quickly realised how silly it would look to stop half way along.  One important point of gardening in a community area is to be aware of the visual impact of your work and not abandon projects half way through.  People may not want to get stuck in themselves, but they'll soon say something if a mess is left behind!

I hadn't planned on giving over half of my Easter weekend, but that's what was needed.  Once I'd starting pruning, I found two Hebe bushes (over 8 feet tall), a Cotoneaster, an Eleagnus, a Choisya ternata, several varieties of Cornus with stems 15 to 20 feet long with honeysuckle and ivy tightly binding the various shrubs together.  The bare branches underneath were rather beautiful so I just took away the side growth, and dead or crossing wood from the interior, leaving the top canopy to provide some summer shade, and shelter for birds. (Next winter will be soon enough for further work on these shrubs.)

My very good friend Leigh brought regular cups of tea and came as soon as she could to help me trim and bag up the green waste on day two - over 20 large bags went to be recycled! (Plus several carrier bags of plastic bottles, food wrappers, a shoe, a couple of socks, some toys and an old milk bottle - how long had that been there?!)

We were kept company throughout both days by this little chap ...

... who took a great interest in the proceedings, and was duly rewarded with mealworms and other tasty bird treats once the rubbish was cleared.

This was the view down to my little veg patch after final bags of woody branches and cornus stems had been disposed of - although I rather regret that last act of clearance as Lorna at The Green Lady has been writing of making hurdles and wreaths out of willow and cornus stems.  I feel I've missed an opportunity to create some lovely natural fences in the veg garden!  (If you fancy having a go, be aware that both willow and cornus stems will root very easily so should only be used for weaving the horizontals.)

~ That's better! ~

The photo below is one I took in 2011 as I stood and watched the bees busily at work on the Hebe. If I've done the work properly I very much hope to see this scene again with plenty of food provided for visiting bees along with the other nectar rich flowers and herbs that will be growing in the veg garden by the beginning of summer.

Great Dixter: It was Just A Perfect Day

It doesn't happen often but, once in a while, the Perfect Day comes along and leaves a lingering residue of contentment, inspiration, satisfaction, warmth.  Yesterday was such a day.  Thanks to the kindness and organisation of Naomi at Outofmyshed and Catherine at Great Dixter, I joined a small group of garden bloggers at this very special house and garden in East Sussex.

The gardens were not yet open to the public (opening tomorrow, Friday 29th March) so, apart from staff and busy gardeners, we had the place to ourselves. As guests, we were welcomed with coffee and cake and a busy day had been planned for us, starting with an eagerly awaited talk from Fergus Garrett about the work that they do at Dixter.  He's deeply passionate about all he and his team do so, despite his protestations of going on too long, we were charmed, amused, inspired and informed.  An excellent talk by any standards and, for me, the highlight.

The rest of the day disappeared far too quickly with a tour of the nursery, the house, the restored medieval Great Barn and a 'behind the scenes' tour of the garden with assistant Head Gardener Siew Lee.  Every person we met spoke generously and knowledgeably about their work; as a result, I've come home with a notebook (and mind) filled with advice, recommendations, subjects to research and ideas which will be written about in future posts.

But, for now, it's a dry, bright - if chilly - day in North London and I feel so uplifted and inspired by the people that I met yesterday that I can't wait to get back to work in the gardens here.

That's the power of a good garden visit and the joy of meeting with like-minded blogging and gardening souls.

Even the logs are happy at Great Dixter!

And a fuller post can wait for another day.

Spaghetti squash: a good winter veg

An ice-cream scoop is the perfect tool for removing squash seeds.

Snow clinging to the roof tiles suggests a lunch of warming soups and squashes rather than salad. I haven't got any winter veg growing to fill the 'hungry gap' (last year's downpours rotted my perennial caulis, slugs got the rest) but what I do have, stored from last Autumn, are my spaghetti squashes, also known as my Squashed Pyjamas. They were one of my trophy veg last year because, after a very slow start, a couple of weeks of late summer sunshine revived their spirits and they grew almost daily, greening up the spaces between the fruit trees and producing several torpedo sized squashes before the season end. These were duly stored on a high shelf in my kitchen, probably not the most appropriate spot but it seems to have worked.

I retrieved one of the smaller squashes from its lofty perch at lunchtime on Sunday and prepped it for the oven with spices and herbs. (And my pruning saw - the rind is hard.) It was delicious.  A simple meal of good home-grown veggie nosh.  And with the added bonus of a snack bowl of edible seeds, also oven roasted - although I pulled out a few for resowing before they went into the oven.

I'm waiting for the weather to warm up to a regular 5C before I start sowing any seeds, meanwhile taking the opportunity to finalise what I'll grow in the veg patch this year. These squashes have definitely earned their place, albeit a rather large one as they need a lot of room.  Last year I started them off in 3 inch pots (set the seed on its side) and found they quickly needed potting on. Treat them like courgettes and plant them out in late May or early June in a sunny spot, keep them well-watered and well-fed (plenty of organic matter before planting preferably) and have bee friendly plants nearby to guide the bees in the right direction for pollinating the flowers.

Squash Pyjamas is less "floury" than butternut squash and more tasty than marrow. When cooked, the flesh shreds easily into strings, hence 'spaghetti' squash.  I cut mine in half, drizzled olive oil over the top, added a sprinkle of dried herbs, some smoked paprika, salt and pepper and then an extra smidgeon of butter on the top - and then roasted it for an hour at 180C.  A few slices of bacon would have only increased the pleasure. The seeds were washed of all squash flesh, dried and tossed in olive oil, sprinkled with the same herbs and seasoning as the squash and roasted for 15 minutes.  These make a very, very nice crunchy snack.

I bought my Squash Pyjama seeds from More Veg, a good investment at 3 seeds for 75p. In a good summer, this should yield at least 15 squashes - 5 per plant. Even in last year's washout weather, I still had 6 squashes from the two seeds that I grew; both germinated and I left the third seed as a standby which, as it turns out, was not needed.  The supplied seeds are not F1 so I presume  I can resow my seeds saved from the best plant, in which case my initial investment is even more of a bargain!  And don't forget, if we get a good summer and the squashes fruit prolifically as promised, I can also take a few of the edible flowers to add to salads or stuff them before deep frying, as per zucchini fritters.

Now I'm wondering if the young leaves can also be eaten, as you can with very young courgette leaves...

Welcome to Spring ...

My favourite thing at the weekend is to take five minutes to think through the day ahead before getting out of bed. (Once up, the reality of running a household can derail my objectives so it helps to have a plan already in place.)  Earlier this morning, still in bed, toasty and warm, eyes closed, I could hear that yesterday's gale force freezing winds had died down so the day seemed full of potential.

Having lost all of last weekend to a flu-like virus, I thought of all that could be done over the next two days.  First, I wanted to visit the RHS Grow Your Own show at Wisley, followed by a brisk walk round the gardens.  Second, was to get into the veg garden, dig over and replant the herb bed, plant out the two edible shrubs and raspberry canes recently bought and start to cut back the enormously overgrown shrubs in the middle border. That was enough to be going on with so I got up, full of optimism, and drew the curtains ... to be met with a view of thickly falling snow settling on the hedges.

Yesterday I noticed long drifts of opening daffodils throughout the college grounds in tune with the Spring equinox three days ago.  This morning, Siberian winds have taken the UK back into winter. Surely it's time the wintry weather was over?

I won't be doing any digging today!

I walked down to the garden to take a few snaps for posterity.  There was more slush than snow but freezing easterly winds had created ice drops on the leaf tips of shrubs. Since then it's been snowing heavily all day and is just, mid-afternoon, starting to settle.

Out of interest, I looked back over what I'd written in March of previous years.  Last year the weather had become clement enough to have a nine hour tidying stint outdoors; I wrote about planting herbs and that garlic shoots were growing well. In 2011, I was thrilled to discover my pear trees thick with blossom and harvested Romanesco cauliflowers for my supper. 2010 saw the first of my spring posts as we'd started the veg patch in the previous year.  I wrote about my trip to Sarah Raven's Perch Hill farm and Derek Jarman's Prospect Cottage, clear blue skies and eating baby spinach, beetroot and spring onions from the garden and seeing the Broccoli Raab florets forming. I remember that the entrance fee to Perch Hill was waived as the garden wasn't as advanced as expected for the time of year and rain had recently fallen so other visitors had a right old time trying to unstick their vehicles from the oozing mud in the car parking field.

I wrote about chilly winds at the beginning of March in all three previous years so perhaps this Spring isn't so different, although I don't think it was this cold.  Could warmer weather be just around the corner for this year as well?  Gosh, I hope so!

Iced Cerinthe leaves.

My Cherie Amour - Potato Day at the Garden Museum

I'd show you my spuds but, really, they all look the same. 

Last year's potato harvest was a bit pathetic (Charlottes, Roosters and Blue Danube moochers) and, given that I'm content to eat Vivaldi potatoes from Sainsbury's, I decided not to grow potatoes this year ... then I read Anna Pavord's article 'Ace of Spuds', one of the chapters in her book 'The Curious Gardener' (an excellent read, btw). Her descriptions of 'old potatoes' piqued my interest; to quote:

"As well as tasting better than you had ever imagined a potato could ever taste, many old varieties have blessedly strong constitutions. In the slap-happy, spray-happy post-war years, this was not valued as much as it perhaps is now, when the effects of eating poisons for lunch are beginning to be more clearly understood."

"Tasting better than you had ever imagined a potato could ever taste ..."  Hmmm.  As I read on, I started mentally to clear a space in the veg patch for some heritage varieties. There's nothing wrong with supermarket potatoes but I was enticed by the thought of growing the right potato to fit the recipe - and with superior (hopefully) flavour.

I'd been handed a Pennard Plants leaflet at the recent RHS Plant and Design Show; it described their 87 varieties of heritage potatoes and their forthcoming appearance at Potato Day.  I'd also noted that Potato Day coincided with Mothers Day; I reasoned that constituted a good enough reason to go out and treat myself to a few tubers if ever there was one.  The 87 varieties on the leaflet were reduced to about 50 on the day; even so, I deliberated over my choices as I like potatoes to be mashed, roasted or baked. I'm not keen on boiled, unless they're the little salad potatoes.  I finally opted for two old British spuds:

• Arran Victory - 1918:  A rare, blue-skinned, maincrop potato with superb flavour. I'll use this one for roasting and mashing.
• Foremost - 1954. A first Early with waxy flesh and excellent flavour. Use for salads, baking, roasting.

Plus two more that I'd not heard of before but sounded very interesting:

• Linzer Delikatess  - an Austrian second early; recommended to me by Pennards.  Like a Charlotte but longer, thinner, smoother. Keeps well.
• Vitelotte - 1850. A potato with dark purple skin and purple flesh that keeps its colour after cooking. Although I'm a bit hesitant about the idea of eating purple mash, I thought this would go nicely with my purple Cosmic carrots! A main crop potato, grown in France as a gourmet delicacy but originally from Peru and Bolivia. Full bodied flavour reminiscent of chestnut.  Will make very interesting chips or salads.

The potato that I absolutely had to have was this one:

• Cherie. Allegedly a very pretty deep rose pink salad variety from France; a First Early which gives exceptional crops of oval yellow fleshed tubers with a wonderful flavour.  Now doesn't that sound delightful?

So much for not growing potatoes! I came home with a several tubers of each of the above varieties - at 20p per tuber, it seemed a taste challenge not to be missed.  Although, in hindsight, I may have picked my spuds following my (largely unsuccessful) method of backing a horse in the Grand National, i.e. it has a nice name.

Pennard's stand, sited under an art installation of 3,000 hand-wired roses.

Veg Street: Grow your own community - a new gardening book by Naomi Schillinger

I met Naomi Schillinger a couple of years ago after realising that she lived and gardened not far from me in North London. Having followed her blog for some months, I was curious to know how she had succeeded in getting so many of her local community involved in her front garden veg growing project.  The answer, discovered over a cup of tea and a tour of the neighbourhood, is that she is enthusiastic, energetic and passionate about gardening. Naomi's commitment to the community gardening project has now seen those energies channelled into a new book called 'Veg Street - Grow your own community'.

A copy of the book was sent from Naomi via her publishers and it's a pleasure to see what a worthwhile endeavour this book has been.  Even with several years gardening experience under my belt, I've found Naomi's book very informative.  I'd go further and say it would be invaluable to anyone wanting to start an edible garden - whether in a bucket or a backyard. But the real point of the book is how the front garden vegetable project has transformed a few streets into a cohesive neighbourhood community. It's not only made it a nicer and more colourful place to live, but has made the area safer too.

I found the structure of the book very helpful: it's chunked up into months of the year, with each chunk following the same format of monthly list and introduction, community corner, sowing and planting, good ideas, one pot shop and harvesting.  To quote one of Naomi's headings, this is a Simple but Brilliant Idea; it makes it possible to swiftly locate areas of prime interest, although every section makes rewarding reading - and the absolute basics (soil, light, etc) are covered at the beginning of the book. Creative ideas, useful recommendations and beautiful photos - many taken by Naomi herself - abound throughout.

So, with a wealth of gardening books available, what makes this one different?  For a start, it's written in the first person, rather than as an informal guide, which gives it a warm and friendly tone; there's a real sense of how much fun everyone is having, the community spirit which this project has engendered and how it's all so achievable. Naomi's voice is heard throughout, imparting the full benefit of her extensive gardening experience - a bit like a cross between garden chat over a cup of tea and sitting down to read the gardening section of the Sunday supps.  For those that don't live in her street and can't pop into a Cake Sunday for practical advice, this is the next best thing. So whether you want to become more confident in creating or nurturing an edible garden or you want get to know your neighbours better, this book is worth a more than a look. Who knows? It may even be the catalyst that starts a gardening project within your own community.

I'll definitely be referring to my copy throughout the year; it's a keeper - thank you, Naomi!

The book is available from today, 7th March. Read more in Naomi's post here.

Naomi Schillinger writes a regular blog about gardening and her community at Out of My Shed.

Smiling despite the wind chill ...

My first bee of 2013!

Two weeks ago, as I retraced my steps around the walled garden at Capel Manor, I spotted this little bee getting busy on a potted Scorpion Vetch next to the greenhouse.  As it's early in the visiting season, I was alone in the garden and able to sit quietly watching. It's moments like this that let me know that spring is surely just around the corner. Each bright day now I want to be doing things in the garden.  For me, it's a physical pull to be outside and really hard to resist when there are things that need to be done elsewhere.

Back in the York Rise veg patch, I was very pleased to see that a French Tarragon plant had survived the winter thus far due to being igloo-ed under a clear plastic storage box back in December. It's unbelievably exciting to see the garden coming back to life and quite a relief to see new shoots appearing on plants that were largely abandoned to fend for themselves. My perennials - wild garlic, herbs, aquilegias, monarda, geums, poppies, polemonium and lilies - are all putting up new growth and buds are showing on the fruit trees. Old raspberry canes have been chopped out as the new canes push through at the base and raised beds have been topped up with fresh compost in readiness for the new season.

I'm catching up with college work today (sadly, indoors) but plan to spend as much time as possible in the garden over the weekend, testing out my new pruning saw on the next overgrown border and collecting organic material from the City Farm to mulch the raspberry canes. It doesn't sound like much but, my goodness, I'm looking forward to it!  Let's hope the weather stays dry for us all.

RHS Plant and Design Show - a good day out

Stop Press!  Free Day Friday: if you're interested in visiting any of the four RHS gardens, have a look at this link. It would appear that entry is free this Friday, 1st March.

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~ Primula belarina Cobalt Blue ~

If asked, I'd say that I dislike shopping but last Tuesday at the RHS show was my kind of shopping. I'd taken the time off work to attend the RHS Plant and Design Show in Victoria (first time I've been) and, as a bonus, the weather that day was fantastic - warm sunshine and no wind.  I couldn't resist spending most of the day outdoors in an unscheduled bout of gardening, getting jobs done including putting together a new protective cloche to house my plants as bitterly cold temperatures were forecast.  As we had flurries of tiny snow at the weekend, this turned out to be a good move.

So the day was already a success when I tore myself away mid-afternoon to head off to the show. It was open until 7 so I thought I'd left myself enough time for a browse round... and, naively, I thought I'd get away with just window shopping!  (Several carrier bags on the tube home disproved that theory.)

Traders selling their wares don't overlook the opportunity to introduce the public to more unusual cultivars and planting. I bought an Ugni molinae Flambeau, or Chilean Guava, having been told that it has white flowers in the summer, aromatic leaves (make tea with these) and red edible strawberry-flavoured berries in winter. A perfect addition to the veg patch. The fruit was apparently Queen Victoria's favourite and, if you could buy it, would retail at about £9 a punnet.  Apart from anything else, it's small, edible and rather pretty.

Displays of bright blue primulas and iris had me hovering, snowdrops planted up with honesty and black Lily Turf (Ophiopogon planiscarpus) were visually inspirational, a row of winter stems from the Sir Harold Hillier gardens reminded me to add a visit there to my Bucket List and I didn't dare stop at the second-hand bookstall, gardening books being a particular weakness of mine. I bought a trio of agapanthus for my mother's garden from Hoyland Plants, the holder of the national agapanthus collection, as they were able to give good advice as to soil, flowering, hardiness, etc of each cultivar. I took these down at the weekend; Mum was thrilled as she's wanted Agapanthus in her garden for ages.

My downfall though was Pennard Plants.  Plates of heritage potato tubers set among vintage garden paraphernalia first grabbed my attention - and then I saw the trays of heritage and heirloom flower and veg seeds.  I think I may have even trembled with excitement.

A jolly conversation ensued; Pennards people were so helpful with their advice that, despite best intentions of keeping my growing list simple this year, I came away with a paper bag full of seed packets. (And the aforementioned Ugni plant.)  I'm particularly excited at having found red flowered broad beans and a short/cold season sweet corn which has a pretty good chance of maturing even in a bad summer. Pennards will be at the Garden Museum's Potato Day on 10th March, by which time I'll have chosen which tubers I want to buy from them.

The "design" part of the show was held in the second Horticultural Hall; I didn't leave myself enough time to fully appreciate all the displays but, for my resource book, I made a note of the makers of this very stylish cloche.  Possibly a thing of beauty for my own garden one day ...

But the most useful discovery was Oxford Green Roofs, a husband and wife team who are passionate about sustainable living and displayed a variety of green roof possibilities on their stand. I'd love to introduce their ideas into my garden designs.  I thought the Pocket Habitat was especially brilliant, see it here transforming the urban landscape of the Ove Arup offices in London.

The Pocket Habitat: a felted pebble pocket made of recycled materials
and filled with bio-diverse plants - good for the environment on all counts!

As a member of the RHS, entry to the show was free for me and, on the following day, I could have taken a guest in with me, also free.  As with Chelsea, any remaining plants are sold off on the final day.

I was recommended to join the RHS by Jekka McVicar, mainly because the membership fees fund research into plants, pests and diseases.  It's proved to be a wise move representing very good value as I've more than recouped the cost of my membership in garden visits to Wisley and various shows (free or discounted), as well as the extremely readable and informative RHS 'The Garden' magazine which members receive every month. There's free seeds as well if I order before 31st March.

Upcoming shows that I plan to visit are the 'Grow Your Own' weekend at Wisley on 23/24th March, the Great London Plant Fair on 26th March in Victoria and the Spring Craft Fair on the 2nd - 6th May at Wisley - and, of course, Chelsea and Hampton Court shows. More information on the RHS website, here.

~ Jovial conversation with the team at Pennards Plants.
He even pointed out the RHS bigwigs and television scouts! ~

P.S.  Read more about the show at Out of my Shed blog, here.

More haste, less weed

There's an alarming trend in my life where I sit down in front of the laptop for a 'quick look at my emails', I get distracted and suddenly a large chunk of my day has disappeared. You all know what I'm talking about. The weather over the weekend has been dry, mild and perfect for gardening ... then yesterday my washing machine decided it wasn't going to spin properly anymore. I can't be upset as it's done 10 years of sterling laundry servitude but it has meant going online to do some extensive research into a  new best buy. (I never make "big" purchases without a lot of thinking beforehand!) I've just finalised the deal, a new machine will be delivered on Wednesday, but it's now lunchtime on Sunday and I'm going straight down into the garden, and sunshine, without further ado. My heart and soul are singing already.

Just before that though, two lovely things to tell:  Naomi Schillinger of Outofmyshed blog has kindly sent me a copy of her new book 'Veg Street - Grow Your Own Community', published 7th March.  What should have been a quick flick through on Friday evening almost made me late for my Girls Night Out;  it's really that good, even for an gardening obsessive like me.  I want to give it a proper review post in a day or two but (as I'm heading outdoors now) will say it's beautifully written, extremely well laid out, visually tempting and stuffed full of excellent advice.  Have I whetted your appetite? More soon.

Secondly, my tickets for the RHS shows are booked and the first has arrived.  I've taken Tuesday off work to pop down to the Horticultural Halls in Victoria, SW1 to visit the RHS Plant and Design Fair. It's my first time but I'm anticipating a good day out!  

But for now my garden awaits and I have two cheap mini-cloches from Morrisons to sow lettuce and spinach under.  Gotta go! 

Oh, and the pink gloves in the photo?  New weed and seed gloves bought from Capital Gardens online; they're a tad too big for my hands but the supplier hasn't responded to my calls or emails for an exchange or a return.  I used London-based Capital Gardens as they have a garden centre up the road in Highgate which I thought would make life easier. Apparently not.  After 2 weeks of one-sided communication, I'm going to give up and use Big Gloves.  Naughty Capital Gardens.  London readers have been warned.

Currently inspired by ...

Snowdrops at Cambridge Botanical Gardens.

I really wanted to be outside today, playing with a recent purchase of a new cloche, but it's raining so there's no gardening to be done - too muddy, too cold, too wet. This time last week I marvelled at the colours as I wandered around the winter garden in the Cambridge Botanic Gardens (a college field trip); on Friday, it was the yellow crocuses on the lawn in front of Capel Manor house and tiny deep blue Iris reticulata in the walled garden that brightened the view.

So today I'm indoors, cup of tea, slice of cake, sitting in the warmth and thinking about work for my garden design course. We have a big test next Friday to make sure all the plant science stuff has been understood - revision will have to be bedtime reading.  In the meantime, I'm having fun sketching.

I've just handed in a big drawing assignment on garden graphics, now I'm building up my sketchbook. It's another assignment but, as ever, laying down good habits for future design planning.  It started with sketching at the V&A but now extends to include plants, hard landscaping and whatever else inspires us. At last, a valid reason to browse Pinterest and read endless garden mags!  I'm trying to do a little bit every day, although that works better in theory than in practise.

For the big horticulture test, we've been learning the science behind how plants function; words like xylem, phloem, cortex, stomata, transpiration and photosynthesis trip lightly off the tongue when in the classsroom.  Sounds dull?  Not at all.  It's why dark green leaved perennials usually prefer to grow in the shade and why variegated leaves are much brighter grown in the open with good winter light.  Plants such as Chimonanthus (Winter Sweet), Sarcococca (Sweet Box) and Mahonia use their fantastically perfumed flowers to attract early pollinators towards their nectar, a symbiotic relationship that ensures survival for both. (Who would have thought the insect world was keeping busy in this cold and dreary weather?)  Cyclamen seeds are moved around the garden in late winter by ants, the wide dispersal giving the plants a greater chance of survival.

And what an eye opener this week's lesson on plant nutrition was!  This brought me full circle back to the veg:  learning why (and when) plants need extra NPK (nitrogen, phosphorus and potassium) and other minerals was invaluable. Potassium hardens the cell walls in a plant, hence its importance for roses and tomatoes.  Brassicas with yellowing base leaves (chlorosis) need more nitrogen; with rotting stem centres, they're lacking boron (fortunately quite rare but helped by a seaweed feed) - and dead.  When plants get sick (as in they're nutritional needs are not being met), they're more susceptible to pests and disease; with a bit of knowledge, the situation becomes retrievable. I've always suspected that any success in the veg patch was due to more luck than judgement. It seems that the more I know, the more I realise how little I knew before.

I hope all this college work will leave me enough gardening time this summer.  I'm reading Anna Pavord's book 'The Curious Gardener' (highly recommended) and her advice is not to be in too much of a rush to sow seeds of annuals: "Those that are sown in April quickly catch up with those sown in March." Despite this good advice and my own resolution not to yield to impulse seed buying, I bagged packets of cornflowers, poppies, loads of sweet peas and nasturtiums for £2 after popping into my local Poundstretcher for a pop up garden waste bin. The colours on the seed packets were so inspiring! I'm looking forward to growing them - the nasturtiums will be trained up the apple trees - and have kept them in the kitchen for now to remind me that spring can't be too far off. For now, I'll console myself with planting broad beans if it ever stops raining.

A few jobs to do now:

Last chance to prune apples and pears, if needed.
Hard prune autumn fruiting raspberry canes and mulch.
Plant broad beans, garlic and onion sets, if not already done.
Start to chit potatoes.

Brightening up a winter's day

Looks like it's all over.  Rain and warmer temperatures are forecast but, for now, sunshine ... and more promised for tomorrow midday in the South. It's still very chilly but most of the snow has thawed or been washed away by last night's rain - I'll be venturing out into the veg patch today to see how solid the ground is.

Golden Willow at Capel Manor lake yesterday.

Yesterday, up at Capel Manor, there was snow on the ground and the lake was still partly frozen - the fountain had prevented freezing at one end while there was thick ice at the other.  Although the class rushed quickly, shuddering with cold, to complete the plant ident walk, I went back with my camera in the lunch break. (Thick gloves and a down-filled coat kept me warm.) After weeks of white and grey, yesterday's plant walk was a treat, providing several moments of pure and unexpected colour.

Witch Hazel and Dogwood (Hamamelis mollis and Cornus sanguinea 'Midwinter Beauty')

Japanese quince (Chaenomeles x superba).

Colourful Dogwood stems (Cornus alba 'Sibirica' and C. sanguinea 'Midwinter Beauty' behind)

The Japanese quince (Chaenomeles) is an interesting shrub - an untidy twiggy dome, covered with beautiful red flowers in winter, but the fruit rotting on the ground underneath shows that it can be productive in the summer.  The fruit can be used to make quince jelly, but, as with the quince tree (Cydonia oblonga), it's not good eaten raw.  Useful if you want to brighten your garden in winter with a smallish edible shrub - it likes sun or part shade - but beware the spiny stems!

The Lenten Rose - Hellebore x hybrida.  Here growing alongside purple heathers and snowdrops.