The Greedy Gardener

Purple sprouting broccoli

The last of last year’s planting is performing very well and filling the gap between winter and spring crops. I still have some improvements to make, but now have a proper supply of of fresh vegetables every day of the year. The recent very cold weather, snow and strong winds have battered most of the leaves beyond pleasant eating, but the chickens love them. After I’ve cut this central head, many more side shoots will be ready in a few weeks time.

I’ll be serving this later alongside some wild garlic and mushroom risotto. It’s very satisfying to be eating a meal that includes so much home produce even at this lean time of year.

Filling the hungry gap

This time of year is a mixed one for vegetable gardeners, with lots of sowing, planting and preparation but very little to actually eat. This year’s hungry gap is especially lean, as last year’s harvest was so poor and the winter’s stores are all but gone. We have a few pounds of onions and a small bunch of garlic hanging in the garage, there’s a few tubs of raspberries and blackcurrants in the freezer and have just cut into the last squash. The remaining potatoes sprouted beyond use a few weeks ago and I dug the last leeks on Monday.

There are a few very welcome greens still on the allotment, such as this purple sprouting broccoli, but even this suffered in the recent snow as it was so heavy, the plants got knocked over flat. I’ve been cutting this for over a month now and it keeps putting out these tasty little side shoots so I’m hoping it will keep going until the asparagus shows itself.

Savoy cabbage beginning to heart up

Just back from a brief but freezing trip to the allotment - I wasn’t there long but I got chilled to the bone and it took five miles of cycling before I thawed out. It’s really difficult to find the motivation to get down there in the winter so it’s heartening to see things growing like this cabbage - it’ll be a few more weeks before it’s big enough to cut but it’s looking good already.

Even in winter, there’s always plenty to do. The ground’s too wet for digging at the moment, but I did plant out four rows of garlic; I usually do this in the autumn and I’m not quite sure why I didn’t this year. Garlic needs several weeks of proper cold weather before it will grow so if you’re planting in spring, it needs to be very early before the soil begins to warm up. There’s more snow forecast tomorrow, so I haven’t netted it, but will fill the rest of the bed with onions in a few weeks and cover the lot with fine mesh to keep the allium leaf miner at bay.

Rainbow chard resurrected

I find February difficult; although the days are getting noticeably longer, it’s still very definitely winter with plenty more to come. Therefore, it’s always good to see signs of new life and new growth. Chard will stand all through the cold months, although its leaves get battered by the wind if its not been protected. Luckily, chickens aren’t fussy about that sort of thing. These new leaves will be ready to eat soon, then it will bolt and go to seed in April or May, giving a whole year’s production from just one plant.

Winter squash soup

A simple but delicious soup, perfect for snowy winter days. I’ve used one of my stored Crown Prince squashes and leeks retrieved yesterday from under the snow. Quantities are vague as it’s down to personal taste - for a big pot for two hungry people and a bit left over for lunch the next day I might use two leeks about a kilo/2 lbs of squash.

Ingredients:

• Squash, peeled, seeded and cut into cubes
• Leeks, washed and sliced
• Milk and vegetable stock
• Butter and olive oil
• Bay leaves

In a heavy pot over a gentle heat, melt a good knob of butter and a slug of olive oil, then add the leeks. Stir and cook until soft, being careful not to let them burn. Add the squash and a couple of bay leaves, fresh if you have them, and stir well. Add a mix of half milk, half stock until the vegetables are well covered. Bring to the boil, then cover and simmer until the squash is completely soft. Allow to cool slightly, fish out the bay leaf and puree until smooth, adding a little more milk and/or stock if it’s too thick. Put back in the pan and heat through, seasoning with salt and black pepper. You can add a swirl of cream or creme fraiche to serve and eat with lots of crusty bread.

Over a foot of snow fell here between Friday morning and Sunday evening. It’s been really grey and overcast even when it wasn’t actually snowing, but this morning, the sun began to peep out of the clouds, casting deep blue shadows on the soft, fluffy heaps in the garden. Having a day stuck staring at a screen writing a report to look forward to, I decided to walk to the allotment to get a bit of fresh air first. The air was still, the usual traffic sound muffled by the snow and the trees in the park looked beautiful with every single twig sporting a delicate coating of white.

There was a hard frost last night, but an experimental prod with a fork revealed soft earth underneath the deep snow and a thin frozen crust. I dug up a few leeks from their chilly blanket and can now look forward to a warming pot of leek and squash soup for dinner this evening.

Does anybody actually keep their car in their garage? Ours is home to a wide range of essential items such as three bikes, the inverter for the solar panels, three wormeries and a sack of layers pellets for the chickens. It’s also really useful storage for our produce including strings of onions and garlic, four crates of assorted winter squashes, several sacks of potatoes and a cupboard full of wine, jam, chutney bottled fruit and other homemade delights. Even though it’s the depths of winter, along with the few vegetables that grow through the dark months like cabbage, kale and leeks, we’re still eating quite well from our own produce.

Today is the autumn equinox, the mid point between midsummer and midwinter, when the nights begin to be longer than the days. Last night, the temperature really dropped, with some parts of the UK having their first proper frost of the autumn. It looks as though it will be a chilly one again tonight so I thought I’d best get my squashes in. I’m lining them up on shelves in the greenhouse for the skins to cure so that they will store over winter.

I’ve been pleasantly surprised at the haul, considering what a dismal summer we’ve had. The small Gem squash in particular have done really well. They grow from about cricket ball up to grapefruit size, sometimes six or seven to a plant and they take up less space than other varieties, running around underneath other taller plants. I first came across them in South Africa where they are very partial to them, wrapping them in tin foil and cooking them on a braai or barbecue, cutting them open and eating from the skin with butter and black pepper.

The green/grey Crown Prince are the most delicious, with firm, deep orange flesh that is excellent in soup, risotto, curries or roasted in chunks. The tough skins can be difficult to peel, but it means that they keep for six months or more. The biggest of these fruits is almost 8lbs so will feed us both for several meals on its own.

The golden skinned Hubbard squashes have done less well - they’re a bit more temperamental than the others and the fruits are prone to rotting when they’ve first formed so I think I might not bother with these in future and stick to Crown Prince.

It’s a lovely crisp day so I’m stringing my onions to store for the winter. I lifted them a few weeks ago and they’ve dried off nicely in the greenhouse, so I’m spending a couple of hours doing the sort of pleasantly repetitive job that isn’t difficult but is very satisfying. All you need is some sturdy string and somewhere cool to hang them - the door handle of the greenhouse is the perfect spot to assemble each string, accompanied by plenty of tea and chocolate biscuits, then each string is hung up from a beam in the garage.

It’s not difficult - there’s a nifty, wiggly loop that the dried stalk of the each onion makes round the string to get the hang of, then it’s the weight of the onions creating tension that holds them in place. I won’t attempt to explain the detail because there’s a really good tutorial with great photos here.

I’ve evolved this recipe from a combination of several and it makes use of three things I always have plenty of this time of year. There are always unripe tomatoes at the end of the summer, I have a Bramley apple tree in the garden and my precautions against allium leaf miner mean I have a good pile of onions drying underneath my hawthorn tree.

Chutney is pretty easy to make, it just requires some patience. You can adjust the quantities of fruit and veg, but keep the overall proportions of fruit/veg to sugar and vinegar the same. Last year, I made a red tomato version with less apple and extra spice and gave it away as Christmas presents. It proved very popular, one particular jar didn’t even make it as far as New Year before it was polished off. How small you chop everything is up to you and how chunky you like your chutney.

You need a wide heavy pan, but do not use cast iron as it will react with the vinegar. Cast iron pans that are enamelled such as Le Crueset are fine - that’s what I’ve used in the picture. I also have some lovely old enamel saucepans that belonged to Mr Greedy Gardener’s grandfather that are lovely to use.

This recipe uses whole spices - I add them as they are to the mix and leave them in - just make sure you fish them out before you bite into your sandwich. If you prefer, you can wrap the peppercorns, allspice and ginger in a muslin bag and take it out before it’s bottled.

I made this yesterday and it made four and a bit large 500ml preserving jars.

Green Tomato and Apple Chutney

Ingredients:

• 2lb/1 kilo green tomatoes, chopped
• 2lb/1 kilo cooking apples, peeled and chopped
• 12oz/375g onions, peeled and chopped
• 8oz/500g sultanas
• 12oz/375g Demerara sugar
• 1 1/2 pints/800ml cider vinegar
• 2 teaspoons mustard seeds
• 2 teaspoons black peppercorns
• 1 teaspoon whole allspice
• 2 thumb size pieces of fresh ginger, sliced

Put everything into the pan and bring to the boil. Turn down the heat and simmer until reduced in volume by about a third and has thickened. Keep stirring regularly so that it doesn’t stick to the bottom. As it gets thicker, it will splutter and spit so be careful.

While it’s cooking, sterilise your jars. If you have a dishwasher, put them on a hot wash wash and let them dry naturally, don’t use a cloth, making sure they’re still warm when it’s time to fill them. If you don’t have a dishwasher, wash them thoroughly and and put them in a low oven for ten minutes to warm up. Don’t stand the jars on a cold ceramic or metal work surface or they will crack when you add the hot chutney.

When the chutney is ready, spoon it carefully into the jars and cover straight away. It’s ready to eat as soon as it’s cool but improves if it’s kept for a month or two before you tuck in.