Happy halloween!

Look, he's just so happy to see you!

Ok I cheated, I did not grow this pumpkin it came from the supermarket.  I would grow my own but I a. simply do not have room for a pumpkin patch, and b. don't like eating pumpkins and therefore am not willing to give valuable garden space to such a revolting (in my opinion) vegetable, although actually I believe its technically a fruit.  I spotted it on a visit to the supermarket across the road from my work one lunchtime, and strolled around with it tucked under one arm hoping none of my colleages spotted me.  Luckily the only one I did see was completely enthralled in a display of orchids (he bought 3 last week he appears to be rather taken with them) so didn't spot me as I strolled on by with my little orange friend.

Unless you are under the age of ten, halloween is not a particularly big thing in the UK.  You see the odd trick-or-treater, the odd carved pumpkin but thats about it.  I understand that in the US its huge and there are fields and fields full of pumpkins, but thats difficult for me to imagine.  If you want to see a good old fashioned English tradition there is one next week that is very impressive!

I couldn't ignore halloween altogether, so I thought I would make a jack o lantern, but a smiley one!  Because he and I are pleased to see you, truly.  Being part mole I would merrily spend half my time in mud anyway, but I always enjoy seeing that people have popped in to see what I am up to.  Please do keep coming back, Im not going anywhere and have tonnes of stuff lined up that I have been up to.

Being an ex-designer I couldn't resist trying to make him the best I could.  Other people would have gone in, gung-ho and hacked in some eyes and spikey teeth.  But not me no, two hours that baby took me, skinning the teeth and eyes, some serious dentistry went into that.  I did some research and thought that skinned teeth looked really cool.  My super sore finger no longer agrees with me, but I do think he is pretty cute.  I particularly enjoy the nose of burning pumpkin that comes with the territory.

Happy Halloween!

Anyway, me and young pumpey here wish you a very happy halloween!

Growing Tomatoes: A roundup

I need to learn not to put up pictures of sunny days, in October, its faintly depressing

Now who wouldn't have spotted that this had a double head?  Me, not until I
looked back at the picture and there it was clear as mud.  It was swiftly rectified
but the plant was left forever lopsided.

I had grand plans for my tomatoes, I was going to keep track of how many each variety produced, size, shape, regularity, that kind of thing.  It all got away from me Im afraid and I truly haven't a clue.  Im pretty sure I had a steady constant flow from plants to sandwiches, but as they went straight into lunch rather than accumulating a pile I will never be sure.  I bought all of them from Gardener's Kitchen, except my beef tomato.
It all started so well; I potted them on into bigger pots, snipped out side shoots, checked on them regularly and generally was attentive.  Then when I photographed them at the beginning of the summer on a beautiful day I discovered the little rotters had been growing double heads right before my eyes.  And the best of it is, I only noticed when I looked back at the photos, why I can't spot them in the flesh I don't know.  That's not to say I am that useless that I let all of them grow double heads, but a couple tucked in the back were sneaky.

Tumbler, looking faintly drunk and in dire need of a little support in life

They started flowering and making little tomatoes; so good so far.  Then life got in the way and that blasted roof caused problems again.  As previously mentioned, scaffolding right through my potted vegetable patch.  The tomatoes were holed up cramped in a dark corner of the patio (its large, we have quite the patio) for almost a month.  I couldn't really get at them and neither could the sun, by the time they were back in position the best of the summer was gone and the plants were doing their own things.

So instead of doing a huge in depth analysis I am just going to share the few notes I took down during the summer.

• My beef tomato 'Big Boy' was a complete and utter waste of compost.  It grew, it flowered, but it didn't produce even one measley tomato, not one.  Possibly I should have cut the top out of it at some point, but even still: rubbish.
• Tumbler F1 was the first plant to have red tomatoes on it.  Not a great one for height, looked like a small man who had been at a party far too long and was gently sagging into its pot.  I finally got round to staking it, just as a man came to inspect the roof, great.  Fruits were sizeable and oval shaped, would definitely grow again.
• Shirley had huge tomatoes.  No idea how they tasted.  Kept producing quite late into the season as I noted it had 'six big ones' still on it when I took stock at the beginning of October.
• Sweet Millions were little but numerous I believe and extremely tasty.  A definite grow for next year.
• Supersweet 100 had thicker fleshier skins than some of the others such as Sweet Millions.  Slightly less tasty, fairly tough little skins.  Probably a good candidate for popping under tooth and squirting all down your top, little whatsits.
• Moneymaker was a huge plant.  Fruits smelled amazing but had quite pithy centres, slightly floury and fluffy texture and were quite tasteless.  The mother informed me (after the purchase which is always helpful) that this variety is known for quantity rather than quality.  Probably would rather give the pot space to a better tasting one, but good for bulking out the stocks.
• As for Alicante and Gardener's Delight?  Well I didn't write anything down but I do remember when I was made to pick the green ones and chuck the plants last weekend that Alicante were big and Im pretty sure I said 'Gardener's Delight are indeed delightful' at some point over the summer.

What a big and juicy looking green tomato, mm mmmmm

So in conclusion, I don't think it was too bad considering.  In fact looking back through all the photos I took I had some real beauties.  Many I would grow again (not big boy) and while I won't get any more this year there is a small colander of green ones currently sitting in my kitchen waiting for chutney time.

Shirley or Alicante, but I do like the non-spherical shape, they somehow look more rugged and home grown

Runner Beans 'Mergoles'

So its fairly evident by now that the mother is a fruity lady.  Pears, plums and apples get her excited, if she was a bug she would be a fruit fly.  Vegetables she leaves mainly to me, taking more of an advisory role.  There is but one exception; runner beans.  She has a need for a little runner bean patch every year which I think stems from my granddad.  Whenever we visited during runner bean season we would leave with a huge carrier bag of runner beans; I spent a lot of time until I was ten slicing them into colanders.  In the mother's opinion a bought runner bean just doesn't cut the mustard, so now she grows them.

To be honest I only really got involved at picking time but I did keep an eye on proceedings, mainly through my camera.  I would have been more involved, but I had enough on my plate or at least I hoped to eventually! The beans she planted were actually old and well past their planting time.  I tried to grow them myself but planted ten beans or so and only had two germinate, declared the beans duff and gave up on them.  The mother however laughs in the face of 'plant before end' dates, planted a whole load and had virtually every single one come up.  Sometimes that woman is hate-able.
The variety was 'Mergoles', I didn't chose them so I can't tell you what appealed.

Runner beans have a rather menacing twirl to their climbing I think, like they might
 strangulate whatever it is they are climbing up

She planted her beans in their own special 'patch', if we can call it that, as I told her my patch was fully booked.  By 'patch' I mean a cramped two feet of soil at the front of a border in front of some roses.  I believe her plan was for them to climb up the fence behind them, so of course they did something completely different.  They started climbing up some wooden poles she had provided, produce from a pruning session although of what Im not sure, got to around shoulder height and then made off.  Tendrils reached out bridging the gap between border and apple tree and then merrily knitted themselves through all the branches.  The ones at the back went for the Camellia instead. Whoosh, and they were gone; eight feet up into the air vanishing round behind the bush to visit my neighbour.  Harvesting was going to be fun.

Having said I didn't like the colour they have produced a rather arty picture here,
but still in my opinion look tobacco stained, sorry Mergoles

The beans had a good covering of flowers, although I can't say I was a fan of their colour.  The flowers themselves were fine when they finally came out, but the buds were a faint yellowy cream that reminded me of a the colour white walls go around a heavy smoker.
Despite complaining that all her baby beans were falling off, she had tonnes of them.  I love a good baby runner bean, they are so cute and curly like little spirals or upside down question marks.  I love the way they gently uncurl as they grow into huge long beans.  I also like the formation, one behind the other on opposing sides making them rather structurally lovely.  They are definitely one of the more attractive beans.

Like a bunch of green question marks pegged to a washing line, I do love the way they gro

Typically the mother went off on holiday when her beans needed picking so old muggins here and the father were left with the task.  I sent him up the ladder, as the man, to do the picking while I stayed on terra firma in an advisory role.  He isn't terribly good at spotting what he is meant to be going for.  They were absolutely delicious, probably more so because I didn't really have to do much, and also terribly nostalgic.  A big pile of runner beans reminds me so much of being a child, really its funny how  many childhood memories seem to revolve around vegetables.

She announced this year a success, but did admit that where she planted them did not work out terribly well.  She said we needed a proper big vegetable patch next year, Im currently working on convincing her to let me dig up a huge strip of the lawn.  Im not holding my breath but we will see how it goes.

Delta Star F1- One good looking cucumber

Every cucumber is the exact same size, shape and colour.  And it only breeds twins!

Cucumbers hardly seem relevant any more as I shiver my way around the garden with temperatures finally beginning to plummet.  I finally threw my cucumber plants away at the weekend and it was a sad time, but also a messy one.  Endless rain had resulted in waterlogged pots that were a dream to empty; mud pies all round.
A while ago now I wrote a post on my La Diva cucumber which had done me proud and I meant to follow it up with a post on my other cucumber Delta Star F1, but time waits for no man they say, and somehow its now October.  But being proud of every last cucumber I produce I am still going to share them here.
I had a bit of a thrill after my last posting as Gardener's Kitchen, the company who grew and sold my two bought cucumber varieties saw that post, read through my blog and found that I was growing Delta Star outside.  Im not sure I exactly wanted them to know that I was foolishly attempting to grow an indoor cucumber outside, but they seemed a little surprised!  They tweeted me (im at @Basicallyitsgro if you want to find me) asking how I got on.  To say I was thrilled was an understatement, but then I am truly sad.

See there it is again, producing two at once.  It only seemed capable of maintaining two at once so all the extra baby ones forming here in the picture would have dropped off at a later date.

Luckily, somehow, my Delta Star plant did all right.  It didn't seem to notice the lack of glass wall around it and happily produced cucumbers all summer long.  Not anywhere near the record of 158, but more than enough to keep the salad drawer filled.  I kind of think this cucumber is the blonde bimbo (I apologise for this sexist comparison but may I say at this point that I am blonde) of the cucumber world.  Very good looking and excellently put together, but really really stupid.  Stupid enough not to notice it was outside.  Don't get me wrong, my patio is exceptionally sheltered and warm but its no greenhouse.

Well what'dya know? Two again!  They have a wonderful enlarged plumpness like they have been slightly overstuffed rather than the usual skinniness found in cucumbers

This I feel, is Delta Star's main selling point.  Yes they tasted good, but I would probably pick La Diva for its slight minty after taste, but every single cucumber was beautiful.  Roughly six inches of green water based vegetable that fitted perfectly into the palm of the hand.  I maybe grew them a little large resulting in slightly tough skins and large, choking hazard seeds, but then I like a big one.  And not a spine in sight, perfect.  I really don't get why cucumbers are prickly but I do not find it appetising.  Every one was identical, and like the animals in Noah's arc, they came two by two.  It only seemed to be able to produce them in pairs resulting in salad drawer scheduling issues when I would have a little drought followed by a bounty.  But despite the lack of greenhouse, production was frequent so between it and  La Diva my cucumber appetite was met.

The perfect size to hold in your hand

Would I grow it again?  Definitely, as long as the next plant also didn't notice it was outside.  Howevcr I seem to have got a little spendy on the cucumber seeds for next year and having honed my technique Im hoping not to have to buy any plants at all, although I clearly will.

Bell Peppers- Theoretically Red and Orange, in reality green

Considering during the Spring I had an almost continuous stakeout at a seedling tray praying to the Gods of germination and growth to aid me in this difficult time of pepper seedling production, and the slug debacle?  Remember that? Read it here if not, when every seedling was devoured and I did something in revenge that I am not proud of.  Considering slugs died in this cause, considering all of that, I have been remarkably unmoved by the continuous quiet production of peppers all summer by the two plants I bought, sat by the wall making little fuss.

I think the reason for this is, truth be told, I don't particularly like peppers.  Yes I enjoy green ones in a rather nice black bean stir fry I make occasionally, but other than that quite honestly they have a tendency to make me burp.

I actually rather like pepper flowers, very sweet and simple but with really open wide middles (technical term there) where the mini pepper starts swelling out from

So when every so often I pluck a nice little green pepper off a plant, for despite having both red and orange varieties every single pepper has remained resolutely green without so much as a blush of colour, I am left thinking; now what.  Some have made it to the table and were delicious, if faintly windy.  Others Im sad to admit I found mouldering weeks later in the bottom of the fridge, shrivelled like a mummified body and well past edible stage.  Even now there is a perfectly nice pepper sat on the side, my last as all flowers are over and I have no desire to eat it at all.

I finally turfed the plants out of their pots and into the compost at the weekend.  It may be a warmer than usual October but it was time to get real about continuing pepper prospects.  I was quite surprised to find extensive root systems in the pots, almost at the point of being root bound.  This would suggest that maybe peppers would prefer slightly larger living accommodation.  Good job I didn't wedge two in each pot as I had originally planned!

Good and shiny, but also rather worryingly always with a small hole in
as well, never a resident in the pepper but somebody has passed through

So will I be growing peppers again as I take such disinterest in their produce?  Probably.  Although possibly in bigger pots.  Unfortunately the thrill is in the growing not necessarily the produce so I doubt I will be able to resist trying from seed again next year.  I will just have to make stir fry more regularly in the future.

Carrots Paris Market Atlas

Get ready for lots of orange and green, carrots are just so distinctively coloured.

I think when I decided to grow carrots I was mainly taken in by the packaging for these seeds.  Not because cartoon carrots with smiley faces appeal to me but for the fact they are aimed at kids, for surely anything aimed at a child is a guaranteed grow for an adult no?  Thats my theory anyway.  This was at a time when I was having very little success with my seeds and needed a little sprouting pick-me-up.
Having clay soil, my only option were pots so having turfed out a couple of Fuchsias I filled with compost and sprinkled seed across the top, job done.  I hate this compost, its one specially designed to hold more water but as far as I can tell its just full of weed.

A carrot variety for kids, and me it turns out.

Germination was quick and even, as far as I remember, a covering of feathery green tops across the surface within a couple of weeks.  The packet instructed the grower to 'thin' the carrots by pulling out ones growing too near each other, but rather than just follow the packets advice I as usual consulted the mother who told me to do something completely different.  No no, she cried, wait for them to grow a bit and then you can eat the thin-ings when you pull them out.

So over the next couple of months I pulled out the occasional carrot to check on progress but all were effectively tiny orange coloured roots.  Then of course I had to move both pots to avoid carrot fly.  And so it continued; check and move, check and move etc.  Then finally at the end of August, one decent orange beauty!  Finally, all plump and round (Paris Market Atlas are round ball-shaped carrots.  As previously stated, round appeals greatly to me).  But still disappointingly tiny.
Finally after several months I just couldn't take it anymore and pulled up a whole bunch to thin.  Despite going for the biggest, most green and luscious tops the resulting carrots could only be described as aperitifs at best rather than a full accompaniment.  I still found it exciting, but then Im easily pleased.

The first proper carrot, a true tiny beauty but I think Bugs Bunny would be disappointed. 

But it turns out, carrots do come to those who wait.  Upon an occasional inspection of my pots I spotted a few orange carrot shoulders breaking through the soil, so of course they had to come out.  I tried to pull up only the very biggest, which at best is cherry tomato sized, but I got a nice little crop.  Weirdly one pot yielded significantly larger produce than the other despite being grown in exactly the same conditions.  We had a scant meal with these, other food was required of course to pad it out.  I left some in situ in the hope they might fatten, eventually pulling them out only marginally larger for fear the worms might get them.

The first crop, small but perfectly formed.

I will definitely be growing carrots again next year, not that they exactly had much of an impact on my diet, but they are fun to grow.  In being sub-terraneous, growing hidden away from sight there is an element of lucky dip in occasionally pulling one out to see what you get.  Funs good enough for me, especially as they are absolutely no effort, other than the regular pot shifting to avoid fly obviously.  Its like lucky dip and an arm workout combined, win win all round.

The carrots in the outer ring are twice the size of those in the ring for no apparent reason at all.

Greengage Jam: A recipe

These are my hands, somehow making stoning plums and caterpillar checking look more elegant than they were.  Spot the cheeky carrot  

In August in England we get a joyous thing called a Bank Holiday, a nice little work free day to go out and enjoy the August sunshine and fight with the hoardes of people in the shops and on the beach and generally bunging up all the road systems.  So as usual this year Bank holiday Monday dawned and it turned out to be one of those apocalyptic rainy days that leave you staring out the window, regularly commenting on the intensity and wondering why you don’t keep an inflatable boat for occasions such as this to blow up and man the helm of as you sail down the road.  I was going to go to a Prairie garden but funnily enough I didn’t fancy it.  A free day appeared needing to be filled so we made jam.

2 Pounds of plums or an hour hour of my life I will never get back

As much as the greengage can be seen as being a king among fruits, superior to other plums, anybody would struggle to eat hundreds.  Normally many are eaten whole but after the caterpillar outbreak every plum had to be dissected for stowaways leaving us with stewed plums for crumble and jam as the best usage options.  This need for dissection significantly slowed down production and after an hour of plumming we finally found one little friend, not in a plum but wriggling around in the bottom of a container and one rather dodgy looking plum that was just thrown away intact.  And here he is, just to completely put you off making jam yourself.  He is the caterpillar stage of a plum moth.  I think you can tell this caterpillar has such refined taste in grub through his rather red and fruity appearance.  If you find them in plums they just want to be thrown.  Ours were inspected with a fine tooth comb and while the early ones had fallen foul, the bulk had avoided becoming dinner.

The most beautifully red caterpillar I have ever seen, just preferably not near my plums

I love jamming my preserves, especially when all it really requires me to do is de-stone plums and then sit at the table and record the method while somebody else actually makes the stuff.  In my defence I was feeling a little delicate at the time following a night on the town.  I do not handle hangovers well.

So onto the method:

2 Pounds of stoned plums

8oz of water

5oz of sugar- We didn’t have any sugar at the time so somebody was sent out to buy the biggest bag I have ever seen.  The mother seriously overestimated our sugar needs

A large saucepan

Jam jars

A plate

Biggest bag of sugar. Ever.

Stone 2 pounds of plums, put in a large pan, cook until soft (I wrote mush at the time but have since been told not puree- still want pieces)

Add 8oz of water- we only added a scant 8oz as the greengages were decided to be particularly juicy

Bring to the boil and then turn off the heat and chuck in the sugar (preferably warmed in the oven but we skipped this step).  The key step in this whole process is all the sugar must dissolve, every last grain.  If when stirring it sounds gritty on the bottom, do like the mother and panic. 2 minutes later it should all have dissolved.  She even swills the jam up the sides of the pan to capture every last grain to avoid crystallisation.

We stopped at this point for a tea break before bringing back up to the boil but that is not a compulsory step.

At some point you want to have washed old jam jars in soapy water and placed upside down in the oven to lightly bake ready to take the jam.

Boil the jam for twenty minutes, you could bring it to a certain temperature using a sugar thermometer but we found that checking after twenty minutes worked better. 

Having placed a plate in the freezer to cool, after twenty minutes of boiling place a spoonful onto the plate and stick back in the freezer.  Good luck avoiding spreading it over the contents of your freezer in the process.

A few minutes later check for a crinkle, stick a finger in and see whether the jam wrinkles- the only time in your life you should be pleased to see a wrinkle. 

If no wrinkle boil for longer, if wrinkle whip out warm jam jars and pour in the jam, spreading most over the work surface in the process if you are anything like us.

If super prepared place wax circles on the top and then screw on lids.

Label: that will not look like jam in a years time.

Making a royal mess

While not a huge fan of the greengage on its’ own, as jam it is entirely another creature.  It could replace raspberry on my very short all time favourite jam list of one as the favourite.  Having made it we concurred that the sugar volume, which horrified the mother at the time could be lowered and still make a particularly fine jam.

Do not use old pickle jars, your jam will taste of vinegar.

New Horizons

There are many beautiful places in Britain, and I have in no way seen all of them but there is one view that in my opinion is the absolute best.  Running through the centre of Sussex, a county right at the bottom of England is a line of hills called in a typically English fashion, the South Downs.  Yes the downs are up.  Just like when I was at school the 'under' was confusingly a room on the first floor above the dining room.  I love all the downs, the view from anywhere on top of it is simply beautiful, but Devils Dyke is probably my favourite spot.  It also holds special significance for being the location of my first date with my boyfriend, aww how romantic; yuck.  I have no idea why it has such a creepy name, it is simply a few walks along the top of the downs boarded on either side by incredibly steep slopes complete with a pub for lubrication and cows to moo at you while your trying to have a romantic moment.  Yep had only been on the date for about four minutes when a friendly cow decided to join us on our walk mooing incessantly, it definitely broke the tension.

These pictures are looking out over the flatter lower parts of Sussex with the usual English patchwork quilt of fields in various shades of green with tiny white clad figures playing cricket into the evening, showing a summers sunset.  It was a beautiful evening, I can't remember whether we had wet our whistles in the pub beforehand but I always enjoy just sitting in the grass and contemplating life while looking at the view.  I remember thinking about my life decisions such as deciding to move back home after university rather than moving up to London as almost all my friends did for work.  The simple fact is I love the countryside and I didn't want to move into the city, but in doing so I wondered whether I had made the right decision.  At the time I had already started to wonder whether I had made the right career decisions doing design as I was not enjoying my job any more.

Which is why I feel these pictures are appropriate for explaining why it has been very quiet around these parts in the last week or so.  Quite simply life has just got in the way as it does occasionally and I have been preoccupied with stuff I have to do rather than things I would like to do such as blogging.  A couple of weeks ago I quit my job so that today I could start a journalism internship.  While this blog is just a bit of fun allowing me to share my love of the green things in life with others, it has made me realise that I want to write for a living.  So sometimes you just have to go for it and make a drastic change that scares the pants off you.  My blogging has suffered as I am changing where I write it and store all the photographs so it is taking a little while to get switched over.  Other than that it should return back to normal with a post every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.  Being a poor scheduler I have a backlog of vegetable posts to put up but also loads of bulb bits, garden visits and holiday snaps coming up, and I will still be getting out in my garden if only it would stop raining...

Picking Greengages

I have spoken on here before of the backstory of the mother’s favourite plant, which you may read about here if you so fancy, the beloved greengage tree.  Well not so beloved now!  It has fallen significantly out of favour this year for producing an undoubtably large but unfortunately scabby looking crop.  We got the usual pounds of fruit but they were all intent on rotting.

I must have taken this photo on the most beautiful summers day, that blue sky is real

Despite the mother’s initial fears that fertilisation had not occurred, the branches were laden with swelling greengages, then many dropped off and the rest ripened at break neck speed and then were desperately trying to rot while still on the tree.  She couldn’t get them off fast enough.  Luckily I managed to not be roped into either being sent up the ladder or stuck at the bottom with a container.  I must have conveniently made myself scarce at that point. 

There is a little leakage on the left!

Things did not improve.  The first batch picked were riddled with caterpillars and horrified, the mother tossed the lot although I don’t exactly blame her.  Nobody wants little friends in their fruit.  She had to be convinced to pick and keep the rest of the greengages but where as normally she is thrilled with the mountainous heaps of green in tubs all around the kitchen, this year she sulked about, eyeing each plum with terrible suspicion.   

The scabbiest looking greengages you have ever seen, not beauties.  If greengages were blue they would be like little worlds

 

A little leakage of the juice which has gone hard like glass

One of my favourite things about greengages is when the skin splits and you get a little eruption of the sugary juice from inside seep out, a little like blood from a wound, or sap from a rubber plant to be less disgusting.  This hardens into effectively crystallised sugar that is completely clear and rather beautiful.

One perfect greengage

After rummaging for quite a time through the mounds and getting considerably sticky in the process, I finally found an absolute perfect one amongst all the brown scabby skins and gentle rot.  I love a good greengage; they have the same appeal as apricots, gentle fuzzy to the touch.  I can’t resist picking them up for a little stroke, what a weirdo.  We did manage to salvage the situation and put the greengages to good use in jam but next year the tree needs to buck up it’s ideas and return to form.