Cider and baker puns

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Alex Gooch, Brigit Strawbridge, Hellens Manor, Much Marcle, The Garden Festival

Floral Sculpture

Open gardens, plant fairs and gardening shows are coming thick and fast at the moment. I’ve got leaflets piled up in the kitchen and dates scribbled in my diary in the hope I can make it to as many as possible. It does seem that there are even more garden related events this year than ever. You’ve got to admire the optimism of the organisers after last year’s dreadful summer when many shows and festivals had to be cancelled. With so many competing for our spare time though, events need to stand out from the crowd if they are to attract more than one man and his dog.

Once such place for me, is the Garden Festival at Hellens Manor, in the small Herefordshire village of Much Marcle, and last weekend was the sixth year it has been held. The organisers have created a weekend which could win awards for being the friendliest garden show of the year. A combination of stalls, rural crafts, talks and great food set in such a beautiful location makes for a relaxed day out. The basis of the festival though is caring for, and understanding a little more about our environment. The carbon footprint of the large flower shows is an issue that should get more attention, but at this festival the planet and plants go hand-in-hand. Admittedly you’d struggle to make it here without the aid of a car, but public transport is thin on the ground in such a rural county.

The event last year was cancelled due to heavy rain and flooding so it was pleasing to see the sun basking on visitors this time around. Plant nurseries from the local area had put on a good display under the dappled shade of the trees. There was a tempting range of vintage bits and pieces. I’ve got a bit of a thing for zinc baths at the moment and there was the cutest old wooden cart which would have looked lovely planted up, but sadly I don’t have the space. Add in some willow weavers, coppicers, gorgeous wooden furniture, clothes made from vintage fabrics and a stall teaching composting skills and you get the kind of vibe this place has going on.

The brilliant charity Tools for Self Reliance had a stall. Run by volunteers,  tools that have been donated to them are cleaned and repaired and are then sent out to countries in Africa. Much of the charity’s work is funded by the sale of tools not in demand in Africa, at places such as the Garden Festival.  They even have a sewing machine workshop reconditioning hundreds of machines a year and sending these out to communities in places like Tanzania giving women the opportunity to earn an income.

Willow elephant sculpture in the grounds of Hellens Manor

From the heart-warming and ethical to the local cider, available on draught from an outdoor bar attached to one of the barns. I never used to be a fan of cider because my taste buds had been scarred by the dreadful stuff my friends drunk when we were teenagers. Gwatkin’s is the real stuff though, packed full of appley flavour. There was award-winning local baker Alex Gooch, and his amazing breads. His bread is the best I’ve ever tasted. . . . well, apart from Wellyman’s delicious sourdough that is. There was also The House of the Rising Bun which competes with Bread of Devon for the best baker’s shop pun title I’ve come across so far. Tables were dotted about in amongst the orchard with pretty pots of violas on them, and as people settled down in the sun for a bite to eat local bands entertained. Tea and cake were available in front of the manor house as a troupe of female morris dancers performed their routines. It all felt like a very British summer’s day.

The weekend saw a variety of talks with an environmental theme. I was disappointed to miss Brigit Strawbridge talking about bees on the Saturday, but spent a fascinating half an hour listening to Stephen Powell talk about his experiences of trying to establish a community forest farm near Abergavenny.

Hellens Manor, Much Marcle

Hellens Manor itself is fascinating. There has been a building on the site since the 11th century but the original manor was built around 1250. The inner courtyard from that period still remains but the rest of the house dates from the Tudor times with some additions made during the reign of Charles I. It’s still a family home but it is possible to look around inside. We didn’t get a chance on Sunday but we plan to go back to Hellens in October for their harvest celebrations so might pop in for a nosey around then. Much Marcle is the centre for Herefordshire cider production. Orchards dot the landscape and there is a long tradition of celebrating the apple harvest. The Great Barn at Hellens hosts the Feast of Apples which includes vast displays of apples and pears harvested from the local area. There will be a variety of fruity related events including perry making and apple identification, where apples can be brought along and an expert will identify the variety, in a fruit version of the Antiques Roadshow. You’re unlikely to go home financially richer at the end of the day though.

A 17th century dovecote

The gardens are a combination of formal and romantically wild. There is something about these old buildings though that can carry off a garden that is a bit untamed. Higgledy-piggledy paths and plants tumbling out over them seems to fit somehow. The formal areas with their knot gardens are in the process of being restored and are in keeping with the age of the property but if you’re looking for lots of planting and herbaceous borders I wouldn’t say the gardens were particularly worth visiting in their own right. If you’re here already there are some lovely species roses, and a new physic garden which is overlooked by an impressive and rare example of an octagonal dovecote.

So if you fancy a plant show with a difference and can make it to Herefordshire next June, make a date in your diary for the Hellens Garden Festival.

Sunny Bliss and Cricket Pavilions

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bastard balm, cricket pavilion, Monmouthshire, open gardens, Wentwood

A garden with a view

The last few days have been a real joy. After a week of grim weather last week I thought emigration was the only option. June was just around the corner and I was still wearing a woolly hat and two pairs of socks. Then Friday came, the wind dropped, the sun shone and I finally felt some warmth on my skin.

Us Brits have a reputation for being a bit introverted but I’m sure some of our national psyche is influenced by the weather. Just look around you on a sunny day and see how people are smiling, how relaxed they look. We seem to spend way too much time in this country huddled from the wind, rain or snow. I noticed the other day that after a spell of hard work on the plot I didn’t ache quite so much. Maybe it’s just my body becoming ‘allotment fit’ but I think finally being able to ditch the layers and feel some warmth might have had something to do with it.

Green transport

The appearance of summer at last resulted in a mammoth planting session at the plot. The windowsills look bare after months of staring through a haze of greenery and the allotment is starting to take shape. The nasturtiums sown in March were planted out on Friday and we’ve already had our first flowery addition to a salad. The gooseberries and blackcurrants are laden with tiny fruit, and flowers on the tayberry and broad beans hold so much promise of tasty treats to come.

Saturday was devoted to fence building. At the end of the plot we have a small area that was fenced off in a rudimentary way by the previous tenants. A few weeks ago I leant on it and it collapsed. Not a case of too much cake, the wood had rotted and now it all needed replacing. Pallets were employed to construct a basic screen and with three left over the plot now has a second compost heap too. It did look a little like pallet city but after a lick of paint this morning they look much better.

Aquilegia in Mo’s Garden

The icing on the cake had to be a visit to some open gardens on Sunday.  My lovely postie David mentioned that his village was opening up their gardens to raise money for the village hall and that his mum’s cottage garden would be one of them. Not one to turn down the opportunity to nosy around other people’s gardens and miss the chance to eat cake we popped along. We thought we’d only be an hour or so but four hours later it had turned into one of those unexpectedly lovely days. We walked further than we’d planned, visited all twelve of the gardens and met some really lovely people.

The village on the south side of a ridge overlooks the Black Mountains and the ancient forest of Wentwood. With unbroken sunshine the views were incredible. It’s a linear village with houses dotted alongside country lanes running down to a river at the bottom. What I love about open gardens is that you get to see such diversity. In many ways I find these gardens much more inspiring than any show garden at Chelsea. The location of the village means that many of the gardens are sloping and it was interesting to see how they coped with this. Terracing and raised beds were used to great effect. There was Church Cottage, a small sheltered garden planted in a typical cottage garden style. A wonderful lilac greeted us at the gate and narrow paths took us through a garden packed with perennials.

Cricket pavilion anyone?

Lower Glyn Farm is a 9 acre garden with a more naturalistic feel which merged into the surrounding 80 acres of woodland. How many gardens can boast a cricket pavilion, bought on eBay and now positioned by the side of a lake? The owners use it for parties; I imagined writing there.

The Lodge was the garden of my postie’s mum. A real plantswoman, she was a great source of information and I came away with the inspiration for a small part of my own garden. I’ve been wondering what to do with it for a while but Sambucus nigra and a species rose will form the basis for a new planting scheme. She was such a lovely lady, she even gave me this lovely plant.

Free plant – Bastard balm

It was heartening to see new gardens being created by young families and in most growing fruit and vegetables was clearly a fundamental part of wanting to garden. There were orchards, both old and new, and the local wildlife must have been happy with a range of bug hotels, log piles and ponds to set up home in.

The combination of the sun, gardens and apricot upside-down cake made for a memorable day but there was something else. There was an enviable sense of community in this small village. The school and chapel both closed in the late eighties and the village hall is now the hub of life here. We met people who had lived and gardened here for over 40 years. For someone who has moved so frequently and doesn’t really feel like she has roots anywhere I find this remarkable. The strange thing is, an afternoon wandering around these gardens, meeting such warm and friendly people made me feel like I am finally starting to connect with somewhere. Whilst I might not live in this delightful village, Monmouthshire is such a beautiful county, it’s a place I love, a place where I’d liked to stay, for a little while longer, at least. Funny what plants can do.

Plant Perfection, Celebs and Booze

Tags

Chris Beardshaw, Great Pavilion, Ishihara Kazuyuki, RHS Chelsea Flower Show, RHS Hampton Court Palace Flower Show

Marc Quinn sculpture RHS Chelsea Flower Show

I’ve focussed quite a bit on the design element and the show gardens in my previous Chelsea posts. In this, my final post about my visit I’d thought I’d share the plants that caught my attention and something of the atmosphere on press day.

J S Pennings De Bilt Hyacinths

The Great Pavilion is truly enormous. The flower marquees at both Malvern and Hampton Court shows are impressive but this place was like an aircraft hangar. If the focus on design outside isn’t your thing then the nursery stands inside the pavilion could certainly absorb you for a whole day. These are plants and flowers at their peak and prime; nurtured over previous months by their nervous growers in the hope that they will be ready in time. All sorts of techniques are employed to achieve the stunning displays and I’m impressed that with one of the coldest springs on record everything looked so remarkable. I could have done with more time to wander around the pavilion and feel I didn’t give many of the stands enough attention. Of those I did see, one of my favourites was the incredible J S Pennings De Bilt hyacinth stand, which I smelt before I even saw it. The perfume really was incredible even on such a cold day. I loved the National Collection of dahlias which showed perfectly the wide range of flowers and forms that are available. I particularly liked the single varieties, especially this ‘Twyning’s Revel’ with its dark stems and foliage and gorgeous pink flowers.

Dahlia ‘Twyning’s Revel’

The display of alliums on the Warmenhoven stand were dramatic and theatrical and gave me a few ideas for containers of my own next year. The Hillier’s stand was incredible. The colour and sheer energy was impressive particularly on such a dull, overcast day, although there was nothing subtle about it. They transport nearly 3,500 plants to Chelsea to build their stand from birch trees so tall they almost scrape the top of the pavilion to the smallest of perennials.

Ishihara Kazuyuki’s An Alcove Garden

I must mention the artisan garden designed by Ishihara Kazuyuki called ‘An Alcove’ or ‘Tokonoma’. The design recreated an area within a traditional Japanese tatami room, somewhere where meetings would take place with important people. Sometimes the gardens that evoke somewhere come in for stick with the accusation that they are a bit clichéd and not cutting edge. I loved it. I have always wanted to visit Japan but I’m not sure I’ll ever get there, so to see a part of their culture up close was a real treat. Mr Kazuyuki’s attention to detail is incredible – the cobbles, the moss, the acers, it was a delight and deservedly won ‘best in show’ in the artisan garden category.

Where were all the gnomes?

For the 100th anniversary gnomes had been given special dispensation and were allowed access to the site. To be honest, I was a bit disappointed I didn’t see any. The two men wandering around in gnome costumes didn’t count in my opinion.

By lunch time the frantic buzz around the show gardens from the press photographers had waned, but as the celebrities who are invited arrived, flash bulbs started to go off once again. Spotting Ringo Starr and his wife, Bond Girl Barbara Bach, I attempted to subtly get a shot for Wellyman of his teenage crush. Barbara Bach of course, not Ringo. Unfortunately I was muscled out of the way by a much more experienced photographer and ended up with a shot of the back of their heads. I did manage to sneak on to Chris Beardshaw’s garden, behind Anneka Rice, when it was opened up for the celebrities to have a wander around. Not because I was particularly interested in her but it did mean I got a much better look at the garden and plants. Another of Wellyman’s crushes he’s rather gutted he wasn’t able to go.

Alcohol was flowing by the time I left, whether it was champagne, Pimms or Mark Diacono’s cocktails. If you were a member of the build team for the Trailfinders Australian garden I think it might have been flowing a little earlier. I was stood next to one of them at 9.30am and he already had a pint of something in his hand. They were all dressed in matching outfits which meant they looked like they were all on a stag do. I can only imagine what their celebrations were like the following day when they found out they had won gold and ‘best in show’. I, on the other hand, was a bit like the rabbit in the advert that didn’t get the Duracell batteries. After only two hours sleep the night before my energy levels were running low by about 2pm and I didn’t think it was wise to partake myself. I would have loved another trip around the Great Pavilion, but my legs wouldn’t take me any further and, with a long drive back to Wales, I wandered out of the show ground just as the police arrived to secure the area for the arrival of the Queen.

I loved my first visit to Chelsea. There are elements of it that are elitist and out of touch with how most of us live and garden. I’d like to see more variety in the designs, more edibles and grow your own on display but it’s good to have something that’s glamorous, exciting and inspiring every once in a while. And, ultimately, Chelsea Flower Show is a great showcase for horticulture.

A Garden for Show

Tags

Chris Beardshaw, Nigel Dunnett, RHS Chelsea Flower Show, Roger Plats

Roger Platts’ stunning garden

It tends to be the show gardens that attract the most attention at Chelsea. Large sponsorship budgets and top garden designers combine with the intention of creating the wow factor. Show gardens can take a year to 18 months in the planning and 3 weeks to build. Then, on the first Monday of Chelsea the designers step back as the world’s press enter Main Avenue and the criticism and plaudits begin. A hush descends on a garden as the RHS judges enter and the designer looks on nervously. Gardens are awarded medals – gold, silver-gilt, silver and bronze on how well the garden meets the brief that was initially submitted, overall impressions and the quality of plants and the build. There is no quota for each medal so, technically, every garden could win a gold medal. Designs are also judged purely on their own merit and not compared to other gardens in the show. The results of the judging are then announced early on Tuesday morning.

Judging on the East Village Garden

Of course, everyone has their own opinion and it was interesting to be there on press day as the judging was taking place and hear the thoughts and predictions as to which gardens people liked the most. If the comments on twitter were anything to go by I wasn’t the only one to be surprised that 10 out of the 15 show gardens won gold. For me it wasn’t that gardens were badly designed or unattractive but some of them just didn’t do it for me. Whilst the judges might assess the gardens individually I would say that most people including myself tend to compare each garden.

The show gardens are quite an odd concept. Appreciating a garden fully only really happens when you can immerse yourself in it, wander through it, touch and smell the plants. Show gardens however provide a two-dimensional experience. Judges and some members of the media can get access to the show gardens but the rest of us have to view from a distance. Of course it would never be feasible to allow the numbers that visit these flower shows full access to the gardens but it might be one explanation as to why the opinions of the judges and the public so often differ. Then there is creating a garden that will look perfect for the third week in May. For most of us the challenge is a garden that will look good throughout the year. Plants need to be placed much closer together than you would ever do in reality to create that feeling of abundance and impact. And what about the practicalities of such a designs in the real world. I looked at the beautiful polished golden York stone path on Roger Platts’ garden having muddy footprints wiped off it before some filming was about to take place. It’s honeyed tones were stunning but it did strike me as being the horticultural equivalent of the white-painted lounge and a toddler with a chocolate bar.

Trailfinders Australian Garden – ‘Best in Show’

Criticisms of the show gardens often focus on the lack of originality. Occasionally there’ll be a Diarmuid Gavin design which stands out or there was the plasticine garden created by James May. These gardens gain a huge amount of publicity which I get the feeling annoys the ‘serious’ designers. Whether you think such gardens should be allowed into Chelsea or not they do offer something different. I’m not suggesting the gardening equivalent of a theme park but a little more variety would be nice. Perhaps it isn’t so simple though. A show garden comes with constraints and limitations before the actual design process has even started. The size and shape of each garden is restricted by the needs of the show-ground access to the site, and services such as underground cables and pipes. Then there’s the need to allow visitors to see as much of the gardens as possible without creating bottlenecks or possible damage to the gardens.

Often there is a story behind a design. Sometimes this can be quite obvious, for instance Nigel Dunnett’s rooftop garden with the idea of showing how with increasing pressure on urban land we should be looking at the potential of our roof space for planting and creating new habitats. For me Jinny Blom’s garden was harder to ‘understand’. I loved elements of the planting but was left a bit cold by the areas of hard landscaping and the stone structure at the back. It was only later that evening when I saw her explaining a bit about the garden on TV that the design made more sense. Inspired by the landscape of Lesotho she had wanted to capture the rocky terrain and buildings that reminded her of the country. Unfortunately this rather passed me by on the day.

Jinny Blom’s Sentebale Garden

It didn’t take long on Monday for me to spot the theme of naturalistic planting which was a feature in so many designs. It has been popular at Chelsea for several years now and is the kind of planting that really appeals to me. I love grasses, poppies and umbel flowers and use that kind of planting in my own garden but you can have too much of a good thing. Just as Dianthus carthusianorum was everywhere last year at Hampton Court, it is the turn of cow parsley to be the ubiquitous plant of Chelsea 2013. This was probably one of the reasons why Robert Myers’ garden disappointed me, by the time I got to it I’d had my fill of wafty, floaty planting.

Another trend in recent years has been the use of greenery and minimalist planting. It was visible again this year although I’m not sure it was so intentional this time around with the weather playing its part. The concept of minimalist planting is an anathema to me. For me the dilemma is there are so many plants I want to grow and just not enough space. There is something a little strange about having a garden and then choosing to restrict the plants and colours in it.

Verbascum ‘Violetta’

One of the reasons for such differing opinions between judges, designers and the public is that we tend to want different things. Judges are looking for adherence to the brief, designers the opportunity to express themselves and the public simply want something they like to look at, something they would want in their own garden. This is perhaps why Chris Beardshaw’s garden and his vibrant planting proved so popular with those I spoke to on Monday.

In many ways, as visitors and viewers on TV, we need to suspend our disbelief and see the show gardens for what they are, a showcase. Big budget sponsors and top class designers are always going to want to create high-end gardens which most of us struggle to relate to but would we want to go to Chelsea and find something we could see in our own village or town? Probably not. Chelsea is about polished floors and walls made from copper, frame-less glass cubes and sunken seating areas. Every year there will be gardens that divide opinion and a garden that the public loves. But enough with the floaty planting, for one year at least.

A Chelsea Virgin

Tags

Chris Beardshaw, RHS Chelsea Flower Show 2013, Rich Landscapes, Robert Myers, Ulf Nordfjell, Un Garreg

RHS Chelsea Flower Show 2013

As a plant lover it might seem strange that I’ve never visited the RHS Chelsea Flower Show before. My lack of attendance has often been due to being away at the same time of year or down to a lack of organisation when it comes to ordering tickets. I’m always glued to the TV coverage every year though, kicking myself that I’m not there. But all that changed yesterday when at last I got a chance to see the show gardens and the great pavilion for myself.

I’m not sure why but my brain always conspires against me when I need sleep the most. For some reason knowing I need to get up early for something a little out of the ordinary say to catch a flight, or in this instance to get to Chelsea, means I spend the night tossing and turning trying desperately to sleep but failing miserably. I had that sinking feeling as I looked at the alarm clock and another hour had passed and I STILL wasn’t asleep. So I collected my press pass after having had about only two hours sleep and feeling more than a little bleary-eyed. I was worried I’d have to seek out somewhere for a surreptitious snooze but fortunately the excitement to be there kicked in.

Held in the grounds of the Royal Hospital Chelsea it might not be the largest flower show in the world (that’s Hampton Court) but it is seen as the most prestigious. And, this year it was celebrating its 100th anniversary. On press day the gates open early. I was there just after 8am but it was already a hive of activity with photographers busy capturing the best shots, TV crews recording footage and RHS judges making their way around, marking the designs in preparation for the medal awards today. Seeing this whole aspect was fascinating in itself.

Strawberries in wellies

Of all the flower shows it’s Chelsea that is really about garden design. In preparation I had read about the individual gardens and the ideas behind them so I had been eagerly anticipating seeing them for real. Perhaps though there is a danger in putting out too much preview material because some of the gardens didn’t live up to the hype in my opinion. They weren’t bad just not as good as I had hoped they would be. I’m a huge fan of the Swedish designer Ulf Nordjfell but found his planting a bit of a let down. It’s fair to say that the growers and designers have had a dreadful year trying to get plants into leaf and flower after such a cold spring and I think it was quite visible in some gardens and Ulf’s was one of them. I had also had high hopes for the Brewin Dolphin sponsored garden by Robert Myers but sadly didn’t like it at all. The planting, although pretty just wasn’t different enough and I REALLY disliked the furniture that had been chosen.

Chris Beardshaw Garden RHS Chelsea Flower Show 2013

I did however love Chris Beardshaw’s garden. The planting was truly stunning, vibrant, colourful and plenty of it. There was an added element to this garden for me. Chris designed the garden for the Arthritis Research UK charity as he had been diagnosed with a form of arthritis at the age of 19. For me the garden was an inspiration. The idea that he has forged such a successful career as a garden designer and plantsman whilst enduring the pain and difficulties that his condition must have caused gave this garden a depth that was lacking in the other designs.

Un Garreg Artisan Garden RHS Chelsea Flower Show 2013

The artisan gardens are much smaller, between 20 and 35 square metres, budgets are less and, rather than spending a lot of money on hard landscaping, plants are always the main focus. Set away from the main avenue along a wooded avenue I loved the escape from the hustle and bustle and the fact that you could get up close to these gardens. The attention to detail was incredible. My favourite was Un Garreg which means ‘one stone’ in Welsh and was inspired by the landscape of the Brecon Beacons, the home to the young designers and brothers Henry and David Rich. I’ve spent quite a bit of time walking in this stunning part of Wales, not far from where I live, and loved the evocation of a piece of Welsh countryside in the heart of London. Details such as tiny ferns poking from the dry stone walls, the beautiful planting and keeping the carbon footprint to a minimum by using one boulder from a local quarry for the garden’s hard landscaping meant I was thrilled to see that they won a gold.

For a Chelsea virgin seeing the who’s who of the gardening world was fun. If I’d thought about it a little more I could have played celebrity gardener bingo but juggling my camera, notepad and pen, and the ever-increasing amount of paper about the gardens and nurseries I was collecting, as the day went on, meant I could have done with an extra pair of hands as it was.

Despite some misgivings about certain gardens, feeling ever so slightly ripped off by the price of food and drink available and the inordinate amount of time it took to order a cup of tea I really enjoyed my first visit to Chelsea. There was so much to like, there was a buzz in the air and a feeling that you were somewhere where people shared a common passion for plants. I liked the eccentricity of elements of it. The introduction of gnomes for one year only and the frog noises coming from the Australian ‘best in show’ winning garden. I’m not sure why some still feel the need to have young women in tiny outfits posing on their stand or for photos. I really felt for them huddled in coats trying to keep warm until the next reveal.

There was so much to see – the fresh gardens, the great pavilion and of course the plants that I can’t squeeze it all into one post so I’ll write more over the coming days.

On the plus side

Tags

Geranium phaeum 'Lily Lovell', Lathyrus vernus, Lia and Juliet's supper club, painswick rococo gardens

Dicentra spectabilis alba

Writing my blog has shown me how much my mood is affected by the weather. It’s a fairly obvious observation that we feel happier when the sun shines and glum when it’s grey and wet but somehow seeing how I write over the course of the year, my choice of subject matter and how these reflect the weather outside has emphasised just how much it impacts on me. I had the pleasure of meeting the lovely Sejal again on Saturday night. A fellow attendee at Lia and Juliet’s supper club in Bristol she also reads my blog and it was interesting that my preoccupation with the weather and, in particular the amount of rain we get in Wales had been noted. Of course, my last post will have done nothing to change the perception that I am obsessed by the weather. So I thought I should try to redress the balance a little and write about the plus side to all the rain we’ve had in the last week or so. And I promise that’s the last time I mention the ‘r’ word, in THIS post at least.

The garden has become lush with leafy, green growth at last. I love this time of year when the plants fill out. The crab apple in full blossom, followed by its leafy canopy and the acer in the far corner of my garden screen the fence, neighbours’ out-buildings and houses. The garden starts to feel enclosed once again and I no longer feel like I’m on display to the whole world as I potter about. There’s a point where the change in the garden is quite sudden and it always takes me by surprise. One day I’ll be stood, looking out of the kitchen window and think ‘wow when did that all happen?’

Lathyrus vernus

A wander around brings a few squeals of excitement as plants I had completely forgotten about have reappeared like my Lathyrus vernus for instance. I first saw this at Painswick Rococo Garden in Gloucestershire flowering in late March and thought it was a lovely little plant. Last year I tracked one down but when it didn’t seem to be poking through the soil I feared I might have lost it. But fear not, it must have just been biding its time through the cold spring and it has emerged with its delicate purply-pink flowers.

There’s also been the discovery of a small patch of red campion by the side of my path. I’ll admit I do have a tendency to forget which plants I’ve bought and what I have put where. I do envy people who have an encyclopaedic knowledge of their plants, especially when their garden stretches to acres but it isn’t something I’m blessed with. I’m convinced, however that I have never purchased a campion plant so its appearance is an intriguing but welcome addition to the shady border.

There’s reacquainting myself with favourite plants. The pure white hearts of my white dicentra which would normally be going over by now dangle above the foliage of geraniums. The white and purple forms of viola cornuta which edge my paths and self-sown aquliegias that have popped up all over the place. I’m also eagerly anticipating the new plants added to my back border. I finally got around to removing some of the astrantia that had taken over but wanted to keep a soft, feeling, almost hedgerow-like and so have planted some foxgloves and wild carrot in there. They are still a while off flowering but should look good by mid-June.

The espalier apple is looking good and has timed its blossom opening perfectly with the crab apple so that pollination should be ensured, just as long as the bees can brave the cold. There are fewer forget-me-nots than I would like. Even though they self seed I would normally sow some extras in June or July for the following spring but I forgot last year. So I’m making a note to remind me when I come to sow my biennials in a month or so.

Geranium phaeum ‘Lily Lovell’

Geranium phaeum ‘Lily Lovell’ is just coming into flower. I love its rich purple colour which stands out so much more now that we have painted the fence. I love the contrast between the purple flowers and the bluey-green background. It doesn’t have a long flowering season but is out just long enough to grab any available light before the canopy of the crab apple casts its shade on this corner. It has been a bit on the chilly side recently to linger in the garden but if I shuffle the plants around in the greenhouse I can linger in there with a cup of tea and appreciate my spring garden at last.

Under Cover

Tags

Herefordshire, Jean de Florette, polytunnels, unheated greenhouse, Wye Valley

My crab apple in bloom at last

So it appears that pesky old jet stream is playing havoc with our weather again. Chilly nights, possible frosts and even the ‘s’ word has been mentioned for some parts of the country and yet it’s nearly the middle of May. I can empathise with the central character from the film Jean de Florette at the moment when he’s down on his knees looking up to the sky hoping that his prayers will be answered for the torrential, seemingly never-ending rain to stop. For me, and I’m sure all gardeners out there we’re hoping for some warmth to return.

My crab apple finally came into blossom last week, a whole five weeks later than last year. My dicentra, a plant that is normally one of the first herbaceous perennials to flower in late March is only just sending out its pendant-like blooms. But, more importantly, I have a serious blockage. Windowsills are now groaning under the volume of pots, the greenhouse is so full I can’t even stand in it and there’s no more space left in the cold frames. Plants should, at this point, be moving through – some going into the ground at the plot, some being hardened off and second batches being sown of others. The plants are growing at a pace in the more clement conditions of my greenhouse and home but knowing they will either sulk or die if planted out I’ve had to embark on some serious potting on. I would normally only pot on into 9cm pots and then once those had been filled it would be time to plant out. This year I’ve got plants in 1 litre pots and some in 2 litre pots. The logistics of it all are proving somewhat trying.

Too many plants

I’ve noticed recently on twitter the difference having a polytunnel seems to make. I read with envy the tweets about the crops that are already producing under cover and wonder whether climate change means that the  only real way to grow in Britain in the future will be in polytunnels. I live in a part of the country where there has been quite considerable debate about the merits of covering vast swathes of land in plastic. There are parts of the Wye Valley and Herefordshire where field after field is under cover. Whether it’s to grow strawberries or asparagus, to produce early crops or simply to protect them from the weather, many argue they are a terrible blot on the landscape. The rolling hills and patchwork of fields are beautiful and it would be sad to see them swallowed up under polytunnels but the reality of what it must be like to earn your living from growing has really hit home since I took on my own allotment. For me it doesn’t matter if a crop fails. Don’t get me wrong it’s annoying, frustrating and disappointing but we won’t starve, I can simply pop along to the supermarket or farmers’ market and pick up something for dinner. But if your living depends on the crops you grow being a success then the British climate can be your downfall. And, how agriculture and horticulture deal with the weather should matter to us too if as consumers we want a ready supply of food. The idea that we could have another year like the last one makes me wonder how many businesses could cope and how many of us gardeners would lose the enthusiasm for growing our own.

Polytunnels, particularly when used on a large-scale bring their problems. Where does all that rainwater go that runs off the plastic? Some argue it causes flooding. Then there’s the glare created from sunlight, if we ever get any, bouncing off the plastic covering. There’s the manufacture of all that plastic, although a lot of it is now recycled once finished with. On the other hand growers say they use fewer fungicides and they have almost eliminated problems caused by wet weather on soft fruit crops. I know how many strawberries I lost last year to mould caused by too much rain. Whether you believe in man-made climate change or not it is hard to deny that our weather is becoming more unpredictable. In the nineties we were told a warmer climate would be of benefit to growers in the UK. We’d be basking in Mediterranean temperatures growing olives and all manner of exotics. It’s a complicated business predicting the weather let alone our future climate and so it seems those initial suggestions are fading away. Instead, the seasons are becoming quite muddled and when it rains it doesn’t seem to know when to stop. Parts of Wales had a month’s worth of rain yesterday. Growing under cover certainly seems to be one way of coping with whatever the weather may bring.

My small, unheated greenhouse even on a cold wet day feels quite warm, and protected from the wind and rain it’s no wonder my plants inside are growing quickly. The reality outside is somewhat different. Our growing season is short enough so at the moment I’m weighing up my options. Emigrating sounds appealing but for the time being unrealistic, putting up a walk-in polytunnel on my allotment is prohibited and getting a larger garden where I could erect said tunnel isn’t the cheapest of ideas. For the moment I think some cobbled together mini tunnels with the help of Wellyman this weekend is the only solution. Oh, and making an offering to the sun gods in the hope that Mother Nature will be kinder to us this year.

Book Review – The Ethicurean

Tags

Barley Wood Walled Garden, Bristol, Jason Ingram, seasonal food, The Ethicurean

The Ethicurean Cookbook

I’m passionate about local and seasonal food. If I can’t grow it myself then I’ll try to source it from a farmers’ market or at least look for British food at the supermarket, When it comes to eating out the provenance of the food is equally important. Years ago we went out with a group of friends to a restaurant which, as we were to discover, was a very loose description of the place. Chosen by another member of the group it wasn’t somewhere we would have ordinarily picked but we persevered. Unfortunately it was one of those eating establishments that helped to give British food such a dreadful reputation. One of our friends on the table muttered under their breath, as he attempted to cut the slab of insipid looking meat on his plate, that the chicken hadn’t had a happy life. It ended up being one of the most soul-destroying meals I think I’ve ever had.

In complete contrast is the Ethicurean. A restaurant just south of Bristol it’s based in the Victorian glasshouse at the heart of a productive walled garden. The team of young chefs behind the restaurant are passionate about local, seasonal food and they have built up an impressive reputation in a short space of time for tasty, inspiring food.

I first heard about the Ethicurean about a year ago and have been lucky to eat there a few times. Initially, the location in a walled garden was probably as much of a draw as the food. I have a bit of a thing for walled gardens, there’s something so magical about them. The location is impressive with views from the restaurant out across the south sloping garden and the Somerset countryside beyond. The food didn’t disappoint either, being inventive but not in a snail porridge sort of way and, most importantly, it was delicious. And now the foursome, Iain, Jack, Matthew and Paula have created their first cookbook.

First impressions on receiving the book were good. I loved the design. It’s unusual to find a recipe book without a picture of food or some celebrity chef adorning the front cover. Immediately this said to me that this book might be something different. The photography by Jason Ingram is beautiful. Images not just of the food but also of the walled garden, the team and traditions such as the wassail all give the book a real sense of place. There’s a feeling that the team really do have an affinity with the landscape, nature, the seasons and the walled garden and that it hasn’t all been conjured up by a TV producer.

Seasonality is crucial to the chefs making them ethicureans and not just epicureans. Gardener Mark grows fruit, vegetables and herbs and the chefs seek out other ingredients from the growing number of small-scale producers in the local area, whether it’s goat meat, salt-marsh lamb, water buffalo or local cheeses. They also forage and make use of the abundant game in the countryside. Reflecting this seasonality the book takes us through a year at the walled garden. I loved this element. The descriptions of the frost clothing the vegetable beds and apple trees, the first signs of spring, the abundance of summer to the fruits and fungi of autumn. In the days before air-freight, cooking was inextricably linked with growing and the seasons and the team at the Ethicurean are trying to rekindle these connections.

The food looks and sounds delicious and I can vouch for the goat meatball recipe which I have sampled at the restaurant. I would say this is a book for more adventurous/confident cooks though. Some recipes include techniques such as smoking and there are quite a lot of ingredients that won’t be so easily available to everyone or will at least need some tracking down. Having said that the nettle and squash soups, the milk stout and chocolate steamed pudding and the Eccles cakes all look easy to make.

It’s impressive to discover that the chefs are self-taught and they’re generous with their hints and tips throughout the book. They extol the virtues of pressure cookers (I’ve always been nervous of them since my mum’s exploded!) to pickling nasturtium seeds to produce something akin to capers. And it’s not just food that’s covered. The Ethicureans love their drink, from the cider and apple juice made from fruit from the garden and pressed on-site to their tempting cocktails. You get the feeling these guys know how to party.

I’ve already earmarked a patch of newly emerging nettles for some soup this weekend and Wellyman is eyeing up the apple, pear, cardamon and chocolate cake. For me the only real disappointment about the book was discovering that they already have a flower gardener. Growing flowers in the Barley Wood walled garden with all that tasty food so close-by, now that would be a dream job.

Thanks to Sarah at Ebury Press for a copy of the book.

The Ethicurean is out on May 16th.

For more details about the restaurant visit the Barley Wood Walled garden website. http://www.walledgarden.co.uk/cafe1.html

Legumes, Cowslips and an Asparagus Tip

Tags

broad beans, cowslips, Gwent Wildlife Trust, peas, Pentwyn Farm, Wye Valley asparagus

Pear Blossom

On the vegetable front the past few weeks have been mostly about peas and beans. Not only have I been sowing mangetout, ‘Sweet Horizon’, a maincrop pea, ‘Hurst Greenshaft’ and broad beans, ‘Masterpiece Green Longpod’ but we’ve been feasting on peas shoots for a while now. I absolutely love broad beans but it wasn’t always that way. My memory of broad beans was those dreadful grey, dry, woolly things I was fed in the eighties. *shudders* The broad beans we eat now bear no resemblance, pick them when young and double pod them and the vivid green captures early summer on the plot. It’s difficult to buy organic broad beans, and even non-organic are sooooo expensive. For me, they are a must on our plot.

Until last year I had never thought it was worth growing my own peas. Frozen peas are nutritious and easy to come by. I did grow some sugar snaps though, and occasionally some of them swelled so much that we needed to discard the outer casing and eat the peas inside. Eaten straight away, and raw in salads they were so incredibly sweet and tasty. So, last year actual peas were introduced to the plot and despite the weather were a real success. Both sets of peas and the broad beans are all planted out now.

Making a bid for freedom – my forced rhubarb

Everything is crazily busy at the moment, hence my absence from blogging for a while. I’m either at the computer writing or in the greenhouse. My apologies if comments don’t go up for a while and I don’t get back to you or I don’t make it over to your blog. I still read all your comments and really appreciate you popping by. I would really love it if there were a few extra hours in each day. I did, however manage to get out for a bit of a walk on Saturday. Pentwyn Farm near Monmouth is an idyllic spot even if the cold wind had returned. It’s an area of unimproved grassland owned by Gwent Wildlife Trust.  A habitat that’s quite rare now, the fields are managed to protect the wide variety of wild flowers that grow there. We tend to come up here in early summer to see the orchids. It was strange to wander around through the fields in late April and there be so little to see. If you didn’t know what was hiding away in the soil waiting to appear you’d be forgiven for wondering why Pentwyn Farm is so important. This was the first time we’d used the new nature trail the wildlife trust have created. It took us down the valley and out past a field of Hebridean sheep which are being used to manage the grassland. There was also the slightly disconcerting sight of a couple of alpacas. It’s not that unusual now to see alpacas in the British countryside, brought in to protect newborn lambs from foxes, or kept for their wool. I still find it funny to see them, a touch of the Andes in Wales.

Cowslips

It may be May in a few days time but the landscape feels like it is only very reluctantly emerging into spring. Trees are coming to life but it was hard to imagine the fields in a month or so’s time, covered in orchids, eyebright, and yellow rattle. Then, just as we were leaving, we came across a field of cowslips. It’s been a great year for primroses, the cooler conditions meaning their flowering season has been long but we hadn’t come across any cowslips until yesterday. Unlike its cousin the primrose, cowslips need more sunshine and an open site in order to thrive. Once an abundant plant it played a significant role in the celebration of spring’s arrival but intensive agriculture and spraying of herbicides lead to a dramatic decline in their numbers, along with so many of our wild flowers. My own garden is teeming with primroses but I have only one cowslip plant which my mum gave me last year. The first thing I did when we got back from the walk was to go and see if it was flowering yet. And there they were, a couple of stems with delicate yellow trumpet-like flowers.

Asparagus spears

To complete the spring theme we came across the first bundle of asparagus spears in a local deli. I was surprised to see them to be honest. I had thought the cold spring would have delayed the harvest but it appears not. It was impossible to resist them even if the price tag was a little steep. The season is so short that they are such a treat to have over the coming weeks. Herefordshire and Worcestershire are proud of their asparagus growing, there’s a festival to celebrate the green spears with food, music and even inflatable asparagus. When it comes to cooking asparagus I prefer simplicity. I do occasionally put it in quiches or frittatas, but steamed with a few shavings of parmesan or with goats cheese and parma ham are my favourites. When it comes to snapping off the woodier base of a spear, my asparagus tip (sorry, dreadful pun, I know) is don’t throw the ends away. If you make your own vegetable stock they make a great addition giving it a lovely sweet flavour. I put the ends in a freezer bag, collecting them over the course of the asparagus season and keep them in the freezer. When you’re making your stock just get a few out and put in the simmering water along with your other veg.

RHS Cardiff Show – Spring has Sprung

Tags

Bute Park, Edible Garden Show, National Gardening Week, RHS Cardiff Show, Sea Spring Seeds, Staddon Farm Nurseries

R A Scamp Daffodils at Cardiff Show

I’ve lived in south Wales for nearly six years now but today was my first visit to the RHS show in Cardiff. It’s the first of the outdoor shows, kicking off the gardening calendar and for the last two years has been the culmination of National Gardening Week.

I think in the past I’ve been put off by the timing of the show. Held in April it does suffer from the vagaries of the weather. I have a friend who has visited for the last few years and needed her winter down-filled coat one year and was in a summery dress the following year. Having said that with our changing climate you could probably say that about August. I did think it was about time I supported my local show though. I recently read that the Edible Garden Show, normally held near Coventry, is now moving to a new home in London and think it’s a pity that everything gravitates towards the capital. I’ve also been hunkered down in my study and/or greenhouse for the last few weeks working on my book and growing my plants as the deadline looms ever closer, so felt like I deserved a day out. So with that in mind Cardiff beckoned.

The Sea Spring Seeds Stand – inspirational veg growing

The show is set in Bute Park, the grounds of Cardiff Castle, in the city centre.  It’s smaller than other RHS shows and more compact but these weren’t negatives by any means. You need stamina for the other shows, particularly if you’re on a plant buying mission. My day at Cardiff was a much more relaxed and leisurely experience. That’s not to say I didn’t come armed with a shopping list. Thanks to the RHS’s great website I had already had a look through the nurseries that would be participating, so I had an idea about what I’d be looking for. Staddon Farm Nurseries and their Primula sieboldii collection was too hard to resist particularly in light of my new found primula plant addiction. There was a visit to Sea Spring Seeds’ stand. I had seen their stunning collection of colourful chillies at the Abergavenny Food Festival last year and having run out of space to germinate any more seeds I made a bee-line for their young plants. I plumped for Hungarian Hot Wax. A paltry 6,000 on the scoville heatness scale but then both Wellyman and I are wusses when it comes to spicy food.

Wheelbarrow garden competition

I loved that there were quite a few school groups there, wandering around, having a look at the show gardens and the floral marquees. Some of them had entered the wheelbarrow garden competition that was on display near the entrance to the showground. An inspired idea with some brilliantly inventive designs, lets hope it inspires some budding gardeners for the future.

Considering the prolonged cold start to the year and, up until very recently, the lack of anything remotely spring-like it was amazing that the nurseries in the marquees put on such a stunning show. I think my favourite had to be R A Scamp Daffodils from Falmouth in Cornwall.

‘Up-cycle’ show garden

Perhaps the weakest element of this event were the show gardens. They were small and some lacking in any great design or even plants in some cases. Having said that I loved the colours and ideas behind Wade and Nicol Landscape’s ‘Up-cycle’ garden. Wellyman has already been tasked with making some wooden pallet seats for the garden this year.

The weather is looking settled for the weekend so if you fancy a spot of gardening indulgence pop along to Cardiff, you won’t be disappointed.

For more details about RHS Cardiff Show

On the theme of RHS shows, would you like the chance to win tickets to this year’s Chelsea Flower Show. The clothing company Jacques Vert contacted me to say that they are running a competition and would I mention it on my blog. This isn’t an endorsement for them and I don’t receive anything for this but I thought it could be a great opportunity for you to be in with the chance of winning tickets. The prize is two tickets to RHS Chelsea Show for Friday 24th May 2013. Travel and accommodation are NOT included. The closing date is midnight Tuesday 7th May and the winner will be notified by email by 9th May. You need to be over 18 to enter. If you fancy giving it a go you can enter at the Jacques Vert blog.   Good Luck!