What's In My Basket? - new potatoes, sunflowers, baby chard, sorrel, marjoram, chioggia beets, courgette flowers, salad and spring onions

It's crazy weather for growing vegetables this year, all extremes with nothing in between. My chard is still quite tiny but I was given an enormous bag of lush  super-sized chard by my parent's neighbours. I used it to make a big ricotta and chard pie for a picnic to celebrate 200 years of Shaw Farm in Wiltsire.

Oh baby what's in my basket - baby chard, baby chioggia beets, baby courgettes and a cucumber

Today I picked some tender leaves of self seeding chard for a dish of chickpeas and chard or chicken broth with chorizo, new potatoes and chard I can't decide. The last of the rhubarb for a compote with some redcurrants and the first tiny courgettes with flowers (to be truthful I got those from a neighbour). A big bag of salad (rocket, purslane, little gem, marvel of four seasons, sweet butter crunch) but no potatoes, they aren't quite ready. I think its been too dry so I am leaving them to swell up a bit in the hope of some rain. My carefully planted pumpkins are looking rather snail or slug munched and my dahlias (Bishop's Children) grown from seed are growing very slowly. As ever its a mixed bag. The hollyhocks by the shed are looking lovely as is the vine with some tender leaves just right for making dolma.

Plaiting garlic and onions

This morning I finally got round to plaiting my garlic and onions. They've been drying out on an old wooden fruit tray in the back garden for a week or so. Once the necks are nice and dry its an easy enough job. Rub off the rough outer layer of skin on the bulb. Then start by laying 3 bulbs criss-cross, with  a good big bulb at the bottom. the first knot is important as it stops the plait untangling. You make this by pushing the right hand bulb under over and then add another attractive one to the centre to make 4.

After that its just a question of laying each bulb diagonally across and plaiting in from the side. The best way to learn is to have a go, your first few attempts will untangle themselves but persevere and you should get the hang of it. Trim off the wispy bits at the top and bind with string. You can snip off the beards at the bottom of the bulbs at the same time. Make a loop and find an appropriate place in your kitchen to hang them up.

What's In My Basket? - redcurrants, strawberries, Greek cress seeds to dry and save, salad and artichokes, borage and pot marigolds

There are so many berries to pick, alliums to plait and plants to be watered that this picture is already out of date.

The artichokes and strawberries are over but it's been a wonderful year for both. The best new ways of eating artichokes this year had to be simmered in oil and water with thyme and lemon juice (thank you Chez Panisse) and griddled with seared onglet. The luxury of too many artichoke hearts makes up for an awful lot of weeding.

And now it's time to make black currant jelly. The seeping jelly bag and splashes of deep purple all over the kitchen make this a very messy and time consuming job but one that is really worth it. Black currant jelly is our magic family elixir that keeps us going through the winter, melted in boiling water as a cordial. This year we got more than 3 kg of berries from our solitary bush which is a record.

The red currants have been and gone, made into compote, burnt cream tart and summer pudding. I've got dark purple hands and a mild case of shed envy after visting my neighbor Linden's beautiful and productive plot.

What's in my basket?

I came back from a week away to be greeted by a host of nodding artichoke heads, welcome splashes of orange California poppies and plenty of weed seedlings. There was crimson treasure waiting too. My smallest girl Matilda, was delighted to find a whole bowlful of strawberries hidden beneath a tangle of grass and bindweed. I also noticed with alarm that there is a giant hogweed growing inside my shed.

The crops I've raised from seed this year and planted out are still struggling to establish themselves - tomatoes, chillies, dahlias and zinnias  are all  looking distinctly feeble after a week of extreme heat and torrential rain.

Last week we picked and ate vine leaves (see below  for recipe).  

This morning I also I pulled up the  garlic I planted  last November and will be leaving it out to dry before rubbing off the papery skins and plaiting it. It could be bigger but some of the bulbs looked a little mildewy, so out they came.

Spring sown salad is delightfully small and tender right now. We picked wild and cultivated rocket, little gem, cos freckles and marvel of four seasons to eat with a herby lemon and thyme roasted chicken.

Stuffed Vine Leaves (Dolmades)

Now is a great time to make dolmades. Vine leaves are young and tender and if you use new season garlic (sometimes called wet) you will find the delicate flavour of the young garlic really shines through  in these clean tasting dolmades, which are stuffed very simply with rice and herbs. Pick an extra bag of tender vine leaves and freeze them to use in winter - they are very resilient and freeze well.  If you can’t find fresh vine leaves use the pickled ones sold in delis. Vines are a fairly commonly grown plant in urban gardens so keep your eyes out for any growing against warm city walls in your neighbourhood. 

Serves 4 as part of a picnic lunch

2 green garlic bulbs  (use 1 shallot, a bunch of 8 spring onions and a clove of garlic if you can’t find green garlic) Later on one fat bulb will do with some greens

40-45 fresh young vine leaves (this includes extra leaves as a decorative bed for your dolmades and some larger, tougher ones to put underneath the parcels as they cook).

150g shortgrain rice (risotto will do)

4 tablespoons chopped dill (you could also use mint)

4 tablespoons of finely chopped flat-leaf parsley

juice of 2 lemons

sea salt and pepper

In a large pan of salted boiling water, blanch the vine leaves for about a minute (you can probably do about 5 at a time) then refresh them in a bowl of cold water.  If you are using preserved vine leaves soften them in boiling water for about 10 minutes, then drain and refresh them in cold water.  Spread the vine leaves out on a clean tea towel ready for use.

Trim the roots and outer leaves of the garlic plants keeping as much of the green as possible. Wash them well and finely chop the white and the tender parts of the green.

Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a large, heavy bottomed pan and cook the garlic very gently (or the shallot, spring onion and garlic which should all be very finely chopped) until soft and transparent. Add the herbs, the rice and the juice of 1 lemon and, stirring continuously, cook for about a minute. Remove from the heat. Season and stir well.

Take a vine leaf and place it veiny-side up. Be gentle, they tear easily. Snip off the tough stalk and place a heaped teaspoon of mixture on the stalk end of the leaf. Fold the bottom (nearest to the filling) up over it and then bring in the sides of the leaf, keep rolling all the way up to the top and you should end up with a nice fat cigar shape. As you make the dolmades put them seam-side down in a circular pattern on a plate this will give you the best idea of what size of saucepan you need.

Line a heavy bottomed pan with the older tougher vine leaves or any that you have broken. Place the dolmades seam-side down starting from the edge and making circles into the middle. Pack them nice and tight as this stops them from unravelling. Cover the vine leaves with about 2cm water, squeeze over the other lemon and pour over 2 more tablespoons olive oil. Take a plate slightly smaller than the pan on top the vine leaves. Weight it down. Bring the liquid up the boil then turn it down to a very low simmer, cover and cook for 30 minutes. Do keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn’t boil dry. After 30 minutes the rice will be cooked and the liquid almost all gone. Very carefully, use tongs to remove the dolmades and transfer them to a plate. Reserve any liquid that is left, let it cool and then mix with a little Greek yoghurt and some olive oil as an accompaniment to the vine leaves. If you don’t have any liquid, make some zsatsiki to go with the vine leaves (see page 00).

Berry days are soon to come

Cold nights in late May are what gardeners dread. I lost a whole tray of seedlings on Tuesday and I am sure I was not alone. Potato plants that were green and healthy last weekend were a shriveled brown mess when I visited the allotment this morning. Its not all pain, its going to be a heavy cropping year for berries. I have gooseberries, redcurrants, black currants and strawberries growing in glorious confusion seemingly unharmed by the long  dry spell we've been suffering. They are green and hard at the moment but in a few more weeks they'll be ready and I don't doubt that I'll have plenty of willing helpers for the berry harvest.
I've been lifting green garlic and onions this week for a sloppy soup of peas and chorizo topped with a poached eggs, the sweet taste of the young alliums was a fine match for the peas. It was fresh tasting but still warming - perfect spring food. Its an Eagle recipe but one which really benefits from using fresh rather than stored garlic and onions. I'll be posting it when I've made it a few more times. Needless they weren't my peas as I only got around to planting them this week (along with Nantes carrots, stubby and sweet and pale pink ringed Chioggia beetroot).

Behind this row of green garlic you can see some corn salad that I am letting run to seed (for collection later on).

An Indian Vegetable Garden

Gardeners like cooks can get stuck in a rut. There's no chance of that for me this year. My lovely friend Laura (just returned from India) has given me an enormous packet of exotic looking seeds. I don't know if I'll have enough heat to get all of them to grow but I can have a try. I may have to frame the packets as they are far too beautiful to throw away.

Forced rhubarb

It feels like only yesterday (actually it was two weeks ago) that I put a chimney pot over part of my rhubarb patch to force it to grow a bit faster. Now look what's happened...

Perfectly pink, perfectly straight, perfectly delicious.

What's in my basket?

Seasonality can seem like an abstract concept when you don't have a vegetable garden. To give you some idea of what its like to cook straight from the ground I'm going to be posting a picture of my full basket every time I go to the plot. I 'm starting off with two (Saturday's) and todays.

Rosemary (for roast potatoes in the pan)

Sorrel, nettles and baby leeks (for tonight's risotto).

Unforced rhubarb (for a rhubarb and custard tart).

Artichoke cuttings for a friend

Forced rhubarb (to roast with sugar and star anise)

Jerusalem artichokes

Sorrel, dandelion and chervil

Harvest of the cold months

Rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb

Rhubarb is one of the first plants to reappear on the allotment. The tightly furled leaves of young stalks appear around the end of February, pushing hopefully through their warming winter blanket of compost. They never fail to cheer me up, a taste of the soon to arrive growing season.

Every other year I force some of my rhubarb, depriving it of light so I can get an earlier (and pinker) crop. Last week I went down to the plot and dragged a chimney pot I keep solely for this purpose over part of the rather sprawling rhubarb crown, in two or three weeks I should be rewarded with some slender stalks of the palest pink. The only down side of forcing is that it exhausts the plant (how I sympathise with the rhubarb) so you can only do it every other year. The rest of the crop will appear soon after, darker and streaked with green it will be less sweet and far more abundant. I always mean to eat rhubarb with savoury things (pork or mackerel) but some how never get round to it. I did make some compote to go with a shoulder of pork cooked in milk but somehow the whole thing just felt like a giant bowl of indigestion. Perhaps its safer to stick to the sweet side. I just can't resist roasting it and eating with honey sweetened yoghourt or encasing it crumbly pastry crusted with sugar.  As soon as I have a crop I will  be making rhubarb turnovers, rhubarb and custard tart and possibly some milk puddings with a layer of rhubarb trapped underneath.





On the same day I harvested some leeks for a quiche seasoned with some random onions that I had forgotten to pick the previous autumn. I ate them with a side salad of lambs lettuce and a few rosy red chioggia beets I had similarly overlooked. Slim pickings but satisfying ones. I also dug up my calcots of which more later.