Request a Brochure
On the whole, it’s been a pretty good growing season so far! We’ve had some delicious veg coming out the garden, and at the end of the day, that’s what it’s all about.
When it comes to what you grow, it’s easy to stick to old favourites. I know beetroot do well in my raised beds, new potatoes and courgettes are always top performers, and chard never lets me down. So why fix it, if it’s not broken? Well, variety is a good thing, the spice of life some say. So, mixing it up a bit keeps things exciting, and, of course, gives me something different to cook in the kitchen.
Broccoli has made its first appearance in the garden this summer. I know it’s not particularly adventures, and yes, like most veg, it’s relatively cheap, and readily available in the shops, but that’s not the point and certainly not why people like gardening. I hadn’t tried classic broccoli before (I had tried purple sprouting, with limited success) so the way I figured, it was worth a shot, it represented a challenge of sorts too.
I’m pleased to say, the plants grew nicely, and produced, to my surprise, some respectable florets. Not award winning by any stretch, but perfectly acceptable.
I grew about 12 plants in all, each ready to harvest at slightly different times, so we never had a glut to worry about. Once we’d cut the main flowering head, (the crown), smaller buds began to shoot from the lower stems, so it was possible to gather several servings from each plant before it bolted and went to seed. Some of the plants came under attack. Clusters of tiny grey aphid like insects made a temporary home in and around the florets, which, although slightly off putting, wasn’t a deal breaker. A short sharp blast with the hose seemed to dislodge the majority.
When it came to the cooking, I kept it all very simple. Steamed and served with butter and flaky sea salt and freshly ground black pepper is my favourite way to enjoy the flavour and texture of home grown broccoli. I make a point of cutting the stem long, because that’s just as tasty as the head itself. Sweet, tender and full of flavour. Just trim back the woodier outside before slicing and cooking with the buds. Beyond that, and during its season, broccoli featured regularly at ‘brunch’. That meant draping over a few salty anchovies, sprinkling modestly with dried chilli flakes, and topping off proceedings with a fried egg. For supper, a stand out for me was to grill the florets, over hot embers and serve with lemon, finely grated parmesan and olive oil. Just delicious!
Another veg that’s out done itself and my expectations, and another first for the Summerhouse veg garden are French beans. I’ve grown good old runner beans every year, but not tried French beans until now. I planted out a handful of seedlings in the raised bed that runs below and along the deer fence on the northwest side of the garden. They had a shaky start, but as the weeks flew on they began to weave their way up the fence, and before we knew it there were slender beans here, there and everywhere. Such a different vegetable to the imported alternatives you can pick up at the greengrocers throughout much of the year. They are sugary, snappy and particularly good raw straight from the plant, although, lightly boiled in salted water, they take on a buttery, silky texture and are very hard to beat. I like to serve them with salty lamb chops or grilled fish. They are incredible tumbled together with warm buttery new potatoes and a fragrant basil pesto or as part of a larger salad of tuna, eggs, olives, capers and cucumber.
I’ve always loved parsnips, so I decided to add these to my list of novel veg to grow. They germinated happily in the greenhouse and went outside in the spring. Parsnips seem to get quite big, quite quickly and have an abundance of broad foliage. I think it makes my patch of parsnips look bigger than it actually is. There’re probably a dozen roots in total. Not a lot, but enough to enjoy, after the first frosts have sweetened them up. My ‘go to’ recipe - parsnip puree. Diced parsnip cooked gently in plenty of butter with sliced onions, garlic, fresh thyme and chicken stock. Keep stirring and keep adding stock, in the same way you make a risotto. When the parsnip is fork tender and the stock has all but evaporated everything gets whizzed up with a dash of cream, more butter and lots of salt and pepper.
It's an incredibly rich, deeply comforting way to cook parsnips and makes a rather luxurious accompaniment to pan seared scallops, roast venison, or pigeon. Or, if you’re keeping it all about the veg, as I often do, then serve the puree with wedges of roasted parsnip, carrots and beetroot with cooked with garlic and rosemary.
Alongside these new additions, all the usual suspects have done brilliantly this year. I’ve dodged the tomato blite again, I’m relieved to say. This time I went for a variety called Paul Robeson. It’s a good looking Russian heirloom tomato with an unusual colour. It’s almost black in parts, while in others, a deep mysterious red. It has a beautiful earthy flavour and a wonderful balance of sharp and sweet. I’ve been serving them with salt, olive oil and red wine vinegar (as is the norm) or grilling them over a hot fire, which only intensifies their depth of flavour and character.
With that in mind and seeing as it’s BBQ season, here is a recipe for barbecued tomatoes from my recent book ‘Outside’. Honestly it really is one of the best ways to cook home grown tom’s, if you’re going to cook them at all that is.
Recipe: Campfire Tomatoes on Toast
What’s your favourite recipe of all time?
If you could only eat one thing before you die? Right, you’re marooned on a desert island...
I don’t mind being asked questions like these – they make me really think – but it’s so difficult to give a single straight answer. There are just so many things I love to eat. Besides, every time I’m asked, I think of something else. But, if I were tied to a train track...
Ingredients
2–3 garlic cloves, relatively thinly sliced
600g (1lb 5oz) ripe tomatoes, whole, or halved if large
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus extra to serve
2–3 rosemary sprigs
2–3 marjoram sprigs
2 thick slices of sourdough bread sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Method
Prepare your fire and when the flames have died back and you have a nice, even bed of hot embers, set a grill in place.
Push one or two slices of garlic into each halved tomato. Poke a little slit in the smaller whole tomatoes with the point of a knife and insert a sliver of garlic into these, too. Trickle the tomatoes all over with the extra-virgin olive oil and season them well with salt and pepper.
Place the tomatoes on the hot grill. Tear over the herbs and cook, turning the tomatoes once or twice, until they are charred and soft.
Lay the bread on the grill next to the tomatoes and toast it for a minute or so on each side, until it’s crunchy and golden.
To serve, place the toast on the plates, trickle with a little extra-virgin olive oil and sprinkle with sea salt. Pile the tomatoes up onto the toasts and serve at once.
