An attack of tomato blight

I volunteer at the Lewes Organic Allotment Project. It’s in a beautiful spot above the Nevill, where the Downs embrace you and lift you up like a small child to see the view over the town to the sea beyond.The other volunteers are a lovely bunch, and I am also learning a lot about growing fruit and veg...

For example, two weeks ago my tomatoes got blight. This is a nasty fungal infection that often kills the plant and ruins the ruby red fruit. Two years ago, it wiped out my entire crop. However, this year I knew what to do.

When I noticed the first signs of blight (blackened bits of stem and shrivelled leaves) I pulled up the plant and picked all the fruit. I then disposed of the plant, but put the tomatoes in a paper bag with a banana.

The banana gives off ethylene, a hormone which triggers the tomatoes to ripen. Within a week, they were all ready and I could make them into  a small salad for lunch. It was a happy ending to a usually tragic tale. 

A handful of raspberries

I was sitting outside having a cup of tea at the weekend. There was a rustle overhead, and I looked up expecting to see a squirrel or a blackbird. But it was not an animal disturbing the leaves; it was the autumn. A leaf fell past my nose.

It’s September, and the countryside seems changed overnight. Conkers carpet the lawn; the Downs are softly blue; winter crops sprout in the fields; and mildew creeps across the veg patch.

In the kitchen I am making lots of jam: raspberry jam (crimson and tart), and damson cheese (purple and potent). Soon it will be time for stews, soups and woolly jumpers. But not yet, not while there are still handfuls of raspberries to pick.

A slug and an orange

At this time of year, I think about slugs a lot - snails too, but mostly slugs. I’ve experimented with various home-made deterrents over the last few years, but orange halves have been the best by far. 

Copper wire, beer traps and egg shells hold no fear for my slugs. But offer them an orange skin and they will gladly huddle underneath, waiting for me to pick them up and dispose of them.

The idea of using orange rind as a slug trap comes from my granny. To make them, I cut an orange in half, scoop out the flesh, and place each half cut side down by my plants. I check them for slugs morning and evening.

Squash plants on the windowsill

After three years growing vegetables, I still have a lot to learn. I over-watered my squash seeds last week and half of them rotted.

But my peas are growing, my salad leaves are sprouting, and the remaining squash seedlings are on a windowsill waiting to be planted out.

And hopefully, I’ll stay one step ahead of the slugs this year.

A year in my veg patch

At the moment, the only things growing in my veg patch are garlic and parsley. But like wisps of hair on an adolescent boy’s chin, they are signs that more growth is on the way.

It’s time to start thinking about what I want to sow this year.

Last year, the mangetout (Oregon Sugar Pod) was a big success. It started tentatively and I feared it might never break through the soil. Then the warm weather arrived and I had more mangetout than I could eat for almost a month. 

The squash (Waltham Butternut and Red Kuri) took their time – needing an extra two months on the windowsill to ripen – but when they finally made it into the pot they were sweet and mushy in all the right ways.

This year, I’ll try an early squash (Early Butternut) in the hope it will ripen by September, experiment with some more Asian salad leaves (I just grew mustard “Red Giant” last year and really needed more variety).

I’ll also try fennel for the first time, as well as some kale to get me through the winter. Herbs-wise, I’ll have a go at flat leaf parsley and coriander as they grow well in the colder months. Roll on Spring! 

A recipe for squash dip

I harvested my squash in October, and immediately cut one up to make soup.  It was not ready, and the rest spent two months ripening on a warm windowsill. Finally, just in time for Christmas, they were good enough to eat.

We’ve had a lot of squash soup since then, as well as squash risotto, squash dip, squash pizza...

This squash dip is good hot or cold. We spread it on toast and eat it for lunch. I got the idea of putting peanut butter with squash from this very tasty River Cottage soup recipe.

Squash and ginger dip (makes one bowl)

I love the combination of squash and ginger, but you could use garlic and chilli as well.

400g - 500g butternut squash (about half a squash)

Olive oil (or any other cooking oil)

Salt

1 cm chunk of fresh ginger

Squeeze of lemon juice (about 2 tsp)

3 tsp peanut butter

4 - 8 tbs water

Preheat the oven to 200 C, 400 F. Peel the butternut squash, chop into 2cm cubes, and put in a baking tray. Drizzle over the oil and salt, and roast in the oven until soft (about 20 minutes).

Put the roast squash in a food processor, grate in the ginger, and then add the lemon juice, peanut butter and water. Blitz, taste and add more of the ingredients as necessary. You might need more water to get the right consistency. 

A recipe for mangetout and mint broth



 

Most of the vegetables I grow look nothing like those in the supermarket. My salad leaf is riddled with holes, my garlic is half the size of its commercial cousins, and the least said about the strawberries the better. However my mangetout, which is ready for picking now, looks like it could have come from aisle one.

 

I had an unseasonal craving for something warm and soothing today, so I made a Nigel Slater-inspired broth with my mangetout, some leftover rice and mint from the garden.

 

Mangetout and mint broth - soothing yet summery

Mangetout and mint broth (serves 2)

2 handfuls of mangetout, cut into pieces
2 servings cooked rice (or quick-cook rice noodles)
300ml chicken stock (I used this stock cube)
A few mint leaves, chopped
2 tbs lemon juice

Bring the chicken stock to the boil. Add the leftover rice and bring back to the boil. Add the mangetout and simmer for one minute. Take off the heat, add the lemon juice and chopped mint and serve.

If you want to make a supper out of it, add cooked shredded chicken at the same time as the mangetout.

A recipe for pasta with red mustard and anchovies

I’m growing some giant red mustard leaves this year. They’re very popular with the slugs. I realised these slime lozenges were getting to me when I explained my four-pronged defence system to my brother (beer traps, sand, copper wire, patrols – the next step is a nuclear deterrent).

In fact, I became so absorbed with my war against slime that it took me several days to realise that I had won and that, although some of my mustard leaves had more holes in them than a pair of old tights, I actually had a pretty good crop.  I could start eating them.

Giant red mustard - very popular with my slugs

Pasta with giant red mustard and anchovies

Pasta with garlic, chilli and anchovies is a great combination, and I thought I’d try replacing the chilli with the heat of the mustard leaves. I think it works well.

Ingredients (serves 2)

2 handfuls of pasta

6 anchovies
2 handfuls red mustard leaves, chopped into thin ribbons
2 handfuls of cherry tomatoes, cut in half
1 clove garlic, chopped
3 tbs olive oil
Salt

Cook the pasta according to the packet instructions.

When the pasta is almost ready, heat the olive oil in a pan. Add the garlic, and cook for 30 seconds. Add the tomatoes, and soften for about one minute. Stir in the anchovies, breaking them up so they become part of the sauce. Take the pan off the heat.

Drain the pasta, and chop the red mustard leaves into thin ribbons. Stir both into the pan containing the rest of the ingredients. The heat of the pasta will wilt the mustard leaves. Eat.