City Smallholder

FIRST EVER BEETROOT RELISH

David — Fri, 11 Nov 2011 05:49:06 +0000

What is there to do when the weather’s turned cold, it hasn’t stopped raining for days and the garden’s gone into hibernation? How do you fill your spare time – however little it may be – now that the growing season is practically over? Some people read more, others go shopping or redecorate their home. Whilst we do all these to some extent, there is no competition for the top spot on our list of preferred pastime activities. In the winter, it’s all about cooking! Although a busy place all year round, it is at this time of the year that our kitchen fully comes into its own, becoming a place of discovery and opportunities for experimenting with taste and flavours.

As you already know, this was the first year we’ve grown more than enough beetroot. Therefore, it will come as no surprise that our first cooking experiment had something to do with the beautiful beets waiting patiently in a sand box tucked away in the garage. We made beetroot relish! Since it was the first time, we decided to not be too ambitious and keep it as simple as possible. We dug out a non-fancy relish recipe that we’d been dying to try for years and gave it a go. It worked a treat! The cooking process was simple and nowhere as time-consuming as when making chutney and the final product is one of the best tasting, best looking preserves I’ve ever come across. (Didi)

For the recipe – which we adapted in order to use up the last of our glut of garden tomatoes – click here.

MAGIC MUSHROOMS

David — Tue, 08 Nov 2011 10:52:57 +0000

One of our obsessions is to never throw anything away that can be composted. This stems from the fact that our gardens are small and as a consequence don’t produce enough waste to make all of the compost we need. We therefore take every opportunity to collect leaves, or even seaweed – as well as make sure that all of our kitchen peelings end up on the compost pile.

This obsession has led to a number of surprises. In the first instance we discovered that potatoes can grow from partially composted potato peelings, and as a result we ended up with various “surprises” around the garden. In recent years, we’ve discovered what we call “guerilla” tomatoes – which we assume resulted from seeds in the compost. This provided dozens of sturdy self-seeded plants that kept us nicely stocked over the summer and early autumn. All for free. We just simply never throw anything anyway that may indirectly produce something edible in the garden.

Compost purists amongst you will no doubt say that our composting bin is obviously inefficient if our potato peelings and tomato seeds are not being sufficiently broken down. However, we generally don’t mind this since it’s good to let Nature take its course rather than try to control and neatly cultivate every square inch of space. As with everything in our garden, we don’t have enough space (or material) to produce a compost pile large enough to generate heat. Our small pile produces something more akin to the decomposing waste in our bean trench. But regardless of this the fertility of the garden and structure of the soil has improved from when we first began.

Our current surprise is what we call “magic” mushrooms. Not the magic variety that some people obsess about. Our mushrooms are magic simply because they were provided for free from – you’ve guessed it – the mushroom scraps and peelings from our kitchen. These have been thrown on the compost pile for several years and the recent spell of damp autumnal weather has led to a healthy colony right outside our kitchen window.

We were cautious about eating these at first. After all, there are many scare stories about the ill effects of wild mushroom picking. But after careful consideration we concluded that they most likely originated from our compost and must therefore be edible. A quick test in an omlette proved successful, so last night they made it to the family dinner table. All for free. All because we never throw anything away that might give something back. This is what we like about gardening. It provides opportunities to re-use and recycle and helps to to play a small part in treading a little lighter upon this planet. (David)

WHO’S LAUGHING NOW?

David — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 08:00:19 +0000

Earlier in the year, whilst Didi was away visiting her parents, I took the decisive step of digging potato trenches in the front garden. We’d been talking about it for a while, but turning our “talk” into “action” felt a little odd at first. After all, it’s not standard practice to use your front garden this way – but, in the search for extra growing space, we decided to be creative.

As the year progressed, we discovered that the decision to grow potatoes was one of the best things we did in the vegetable garden this year. They are incredibly easy to grow and require hardly any maintenance. This is because the large plants cover the ground well and therefore shade-out any weeds before they take hold. All we needed to do was make sure they were “earthed up” and watered sufficiently during the somewhat dry summer we experienced (just like last year). But apart from that, the potato plants just sat happily at the front of our bungalow, quietly producing the crop we would savour this autumn.

We waited until September to start digging them up and since then have not needed to buy any potatoes from the shops. We’ve been amazed at the quantity a small potato bed can produce and wish we’d measured the yield. The bed measures about 3 metres x 3 metres, and we must have had a least four crates full like the one in the photo above.

This weekend we lifted the remaining crop to store in the garage. It looks like we won’t be buying potatoes for a while. So who’s laughing now?

The front garden potatoes have been a turning point in our city vegetable gardening. From now on we might not put so much effort into making the front garden a neat companion planted mix of flowers and veg. It might take on more of an allotment feel. It is our best growing space after all. (David)

COLLECTING CHIVE SEEDS

Didi — Thu, 13 Oct 2011 08:23:58 +0000

Remember when we wrote about the lovely chives reigning in our front garden? How they’ve put up a beautiful display of purple for months, from spring until mid-September? How they flowered not once, but twice? Well, those days of glory are now over.

There are a lot of transformations taking place as the grey season takes hold of our garden. The sun is fading away, the nights are colder and the wind is blowing stronger and harsher. Our plants have, of course, sensed the changes and decided to retire from the spotlight and rest for a while. But, before they could do that, they still had some unfinished business to attend to: making seed from which the next generation can emerge.

Our chives have been as brilliant at performing this last task and they were at flowering in the summer. For the past 3-4 weeks, I’ve watched the purple fade away and be replaced by straw-yellow. The flowers have dried nicely in the mild autumn sun and, by the end of last week, they were ready to share their treasure of small, black seeds.

Two days ago, we decided it was time to harvest the seeds and put them into storage for next year. It was a lovely, dry and sunny day, the kind of weather one can only wish for when planning such an activity. It is well known that wet seeds do not keep well, so dry weather is a must if you are to have any chance of using them successfully the following season.

Collecting seeds is not as difficult as one may think – especially when the seeds are not too tiny and the conditions are right – and can be very rewarding. Not only does it save you money, but it also gives you a feeling of satisfaction to know that you’ve ‘raised’ next year’s crop yourself. It feels like you’re directly involved in the cycle of life.

All I needed was a clean, dry plastic tub from the kitchen. I gently bent each flower over the tub and slowly rubbed it between my fingers to encourage it to release its precious gems. A little tap on the head seemed to help, too. That’s all there was to it, really.

Within minutes, we had more than enough seeds for next year. Since they were already dry, we split them between several brown paper envelopes, which we then sealed tightly and tucked away in a cool place away from any damp. Not keeping all of the seeds together will help preserve them better and ensure that we have enough viable ones to sow next spring. And, as an added bonus, a few of the precious brown-paper packets will make great Christmas presents for the right people. (Didi)

STORING BEETROOT

David — Mon, 10 Oct 2011 10:18:28 +0000

This year we’ve seen a big increases in yield for many of the vegetables we grow. We’d like to think this is because we’re so much more experienced than when we first started, but in reality it’s probably because we were brave enough to grow vegetables in the front garden (i.e.the one overlooked by the neighbours and the street) in addition to the more private rear and side gardens we were using previously.

It made sense to use the front garden for three reasons. Firstly, it is at least as big as the garden at the rear of our bungalow so it would be a shame to waste the space. Secondly, it is south-facing and has much better light than the other gardens. And, thirdly, growing vegetables at the front of the house is regarded as slighly eccentric in the UK and we like this. In fact we’re actively trying to increase our gardening eccentricity and have been dreaming up bigger and braver plans for the new year. I can’t say too much at this stage, but is might involve a scarecrow…

So the results from the front garden have been impressive, especially for beetroot. In the past our beetroot bed produced an ample supply of golf ball sized roots, but in the front garden the growth was much more rapid and quickly reached tennis ball size and beyond. Many people say that beetroot go woody if they get too large but this doesn’t seem to be the case for the Boltardy cultivar. We’ve been eating tasty roots for months and now that the nights are getting cooler we thought it was time to pull the remaining crop and put it into winter storage.

We’ve never had enough beetroot to store before so this is the first time we’ve used the sandbox technique. This involves placing the beetroot in a crate with damp sand, building up a layer of sand and layer of beetroot consecutively until crate is full. Prior to this we twisted off the beetroot leaves by hand but now wish we’d done this higher up the stem. A number of websites with articles on how to store beetroot say that they store better if a short section of stem is left attached to the root. Apparently it’s the same for pumpkins. We’ll have to see how it goes and may modify the way we store them next year.

Does anyone know how long beetroot stores in sand? We’ll keep the sandbox in the garage, so it will be cool but also protected from frosts over the winter months. It would be nice if we had a supply until spring. This would be another step towards being self-sufficient.

Above is a photo of our “heavy” crop. The ones on top were the smaller roots (we’ll eat these soon). The monster ones lie waiting beneath. (David)

TALLER THAN EXPECTED

David — Fri, 07 Oct 2011 09:48:32 +0000

Those of you who have been following this blog from its inception, will already know that we don’t have enough space for a greenhouse and consequently grow all of our tomatoes outdoors. This hasn’t really been a compromise, since there are plenty of posts about the huge mountains of tomatoes we produce from around twenty plants each year.

I guess the main drawback of growing tomatoes outdoors (rather than in a greenhouse) is that all of the tomatoes ripen from September onwards. This produces a huge glut of fruit which invariably gets consumed in lunchtime soups. If we had a large greenhouse then the crop would be spread over the whole of the summer and early autumn, which would have a more positive impact on the day-to-day household budget (why are tomatoes so expensive these days?).

Nevertheless, we’d encourage everyone to grow tomatoes – even if you have just a little space outdoors – since our yields have been amazing. I always feel really proud when I come back from the veg garden with a crate full of home-grown produce. It’s extremely satisfying to grow your own, especially in the summer when – for a short space of time - you get a feeling of what it would be like to be truly self-sufficient.

But the purpose of this post is to talk about our sunflowers, instead of tomatoes.

The sunflowers have been growing where we grew our tomatoes last year – and were chosen as an ornamental infill within our pseudo-rotation system. The variety we chose was Ruby Sunset since the plants are reported to only grow around one metre tall. We therefore thought they’d be great along the back of the border and generally be a better alternative to the huge skyscraper sunflowers that you usually see.

However, the result was that they grew much taller than one metre. In fact, they probably grew taller than the common skyscraper sunflowers. The photo above demonstrates this (try to picture Jack in the Beanstalk).

This end result is disappointing because we chose them for ornamental reasons, and if we’d have known they were going to grow this tall we probably would have chosen a standard sunflower variety instead. At least then the seeds would have been edible. The seeds in the Ruby Sunset flowers are too small for us to warm in a frying pan, crack the shells, and eat the tasty kernel inside. Next year we’ll stick to our rule of giving priory to plants that produce something edible. After all, it’s the City-Smallholder way! (David)

I USED TO HATE POTATOES

David — Wed, 05 Oct 2011 05:34:23 +0000

When I was a child I had a strong aversion to potatoes. I wasn’t too keen on other vegetables either, but when it came to potatoes my dislike was so intense that just the thought of eating them would make me heave. However, back in the seventies potatoes were on the menu every single day and, as a consequence, I ate very little. In fact for the first five years of my life I apparently survived on milk, biscuits and apple sandwiches.

This refusal to eat brought my mum to tears on many occasions. She tried all the usual tricks – such as lecturing about the starving kids in Africa or placing a clock in front of me so that I could watch the minutes tick by. I can still see the image of its oval face with black hands that I could actually see move if I stared at them hard enough. And all of this time, my potatoes (usually mashed) were getting colder and colder.

The best combination (I mean the one that was most edible) was mashed potato with baked beans. This was the seventies remember, so our diet wasn’t too great back then. But when it was mashed potato with baked beans (and a few slices of luncheon meat) then I could just about manage to beat the clock, avoid the starving kids in Africa lecture and take in enough nutrients to survive another day.

However, when my mum tried to be creative in the kitchen things got really bad.

It started with onion, which she boiled, chopped into small pieces, and surreptitiously hid within the lumps of white mash. I’d discover this whilst watching the clock – when suddenly the cold white starch would reveal a slither of boiled onion skin. Sometimes there was something stringy too, like a blade a grass, and all of this would make me heave, refuse to eat, and as a consequence, grow thinner.

There was also mashed up swede, carrots, or whatever else (all hidden inside the mash) – but I guess you get the idea. I just didn’t like potatoes. And, regardless of whatever my mum tried, I was determined I was never going to eat them. I mean NEVER. (I had repeat this many time until the message got through).

But things gradually changed.

By the time we started vegetable gardening I was beginning to open up to the idea of at least trying a potato every now and again. However, I had no plans to grow any. After all “we don’t have enough space” was my justification. “We should concentrate on crops we’ll actually use.”

But little by little the potato worked its way back into my life, and this year we found ourselves growing our first potato crop. The success of this is what prompted me to write this post since, yesterday, whilst lifting an armful of the finest potato crop ever, I realised that my potato hating days are well and truly over. In fact they are being used in the kitchen on a regular basis, and the success of growing them in the front garden is likely to make them a regular feature.

Yep, it looks like I’m cured. I used to hate potatoes, but this is no longer true. In fact, they’ve well and truly earned their right to be in our garden.

Above is a photo of the good-life. (David)

ANOTHER TOMATO MOUNTAIN

David — Thu, 22 Sep 2011 11:01:46 +0000

Last year, in the wake of a bumper tomato crop, we coined the phrase “Tomato Mountain Soup”. This was born out of the necessity to do something with a seemingly endless and ever increasing supply of tomatoes. Making a soup was the obvious answer. Soup is, after all, a great way to use up surplus crops and is great for freezing for use on colder winter days.

This year, we tried to temper our tomato crop a little by growing fewer plants. However, one thing we’re not very good at is sacrificing young seedlings and, as spring progressed, we noticed that more and more self-seeded tomato plants were popping up at various locations around the veg garden….

The sensible thing would have been to get rid of these plants and stick to our original plan of growing 10 Alicante plants, outdoors, near a heat-absorbing sunny wall.

However, one by one the gorilla seedings were transplanted into the tomato bed until it possessed almost jungle-like qualitites. The end result has been another seemingly endless supply of tomatoes. And, most likely, another bumper supply of tomato mountain soup. We haven’t made this yet but preparations to make room in the freezer are underway. We just need to eat our bumper supply of runner beans first. It’s all good fun. (David)

PRETTY MARJORAM

David — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 11:46:47 +0000

Whilst I was tidying up the front garden – and believe me, there’s a lot of tidying up to do at this time of the year – I noticed how beautiful my marjoram plant looks. It’s always been a pretty sight, but it seems to really enjoy autumn.

At a time when most of the other plants and flowers in our beds are wrapping up business and going to seed, the marjoram has come into its own and put up a wonderful display of pink and purple.

It’s looked like this for about two weeks now, and I’m hoping that it’ll stay in bloom for a bit longer. Isn’t it magnificent? (Didi)

TOMATO OVERLOAD

David — Mon, 12 Sep 2011 11:32:37 +0000

It’s almost mid-September, which can only mean one thing: we’re overloaded with tomatoes again. Every year, we rely on our tomato plants to produce a heavy crop of glossy, beautiful fruit that will carry us until the end of autumn. And every year, they don’t disappoint.

We have been eating our own tomatoes for a few weeks now, and I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that they taste incomparably better than the ones in the supermarket. As for the smell…If there was a perfume that smells like tomatoes on the vine, I would wear it. Simply divine.

So we’re overrun with tomatoes. We’ve got bright-red, ripe, ready-to-eat tomatoes…

We’ve got tomatoes ripening slowly indoors, taking up every free corner of our kitchen…

And we’ve got plenty of tomatoes still on the plants, waiting patiently for their turn!

I sense a few ketchup and chutney-making evenings coming up. And I can’t wait. (Didi)