The Hopeful Kitchen Gardener

Panicking about unplanted pumpkins and runner beans with nowhere to run is an annual event in my kitchen garden. Spring-sown plants scream to be released from their pots and I can almost hear the sighs of relief every time I pop one of these poor, desperate specimens into the soil. Although everything needs to be done yesterday and the weeds will be back tomorrow, I am always filled with hope at this time of year because (with the exception of a breakout of peach leaf curl and the ongoing battle with aphids) things have yet to go catastrophically wrong in the kitchen garden.

The prettiest stage of a medlar

There were so many pollinators about in spring that I decided not to flutter around the fruit trees with my pollinating paintbrush pretending to be a bee. Unsurprisingly, the pollinators have done a fine job. Tiny embryonic fruits cluster on the branches of trees. They have yet to suffer the rigours of June drop, wasps and scab, so for the next week or two I shall remain optimistic that this autumn will be fuelled by wall-to-wall pies and crumbles.

Hope of fruit crumble, custard and cream

The hens are clearly heeding the slug and snail warning this year as their pest patrols have been ruthless. Nothing gets in their way. Last week they uprooted part of a mirabelle hedge, three asparagus plants and picked every last one of the developing gooseberries. That's one crumble I won't be enjoying this summer.

Hope of summer pudding

Images of pumpkin plants being released from the prison of their pots and spreading their roots gratefully (if indeed pumpkins feel gratitude) into delicious soil only to be dragged from their moorings by an over-exuberant hen, have led me to protect all of my crops from the chickens and rethink the whole slug control issue. 

Ever hopeful Hyacinth Hen

Fortunately my family are squirrels. That is not to say that they spend their days clinging valiantly to bird feeders and chewing on the little plastic perches, but they could quite happily live off seeds and nuts - particularly pistachios. This is great news in light of the slug and snail invasion forecast. I buy unsalted pistachios and it makes my family happy. I take the shells, scatter them around the brassicas and the slugs and snails do a runner elsewhere (hopefully into the path of a peckish hen). It takes a lot of pistachios to mulch a broccoli bed, then again, if it were left to the chickens, the broccoli would be long gone. 

Hope of pumpkin pie

While tomatoes and potatoes have yet to be blighted and courgette leaves exhibit no sign of mildew, we can remain optimistic for a bumper harvest. Early summer is a time for hope: hope that we won't be pulling pointless micro-celeriac again (what on earth happened to the celeriac last year?); hope that 2016 will be the year of the great butternut glut; and on a personal note, hope that my family's passion for pistachios will never wane.

James Wong's Homegrown Revolution

Has the first page of a book ever irritated you so much that you slammed the book shut? This happened twice when I started reading James Wong’s Homegrown Revolution.  On the third attempt, I got off my high horse and ploughed on and ironically, given my earlier inability to get past the introduction, I was treated to a horticultural page-turner.

Although James Wong gardens in the UK, the book would be of interest to gardeners elsewhere in the world because it is chock-full of information and a truly satisfying read. So many gardening books list rules about the hows, whens and whats of garden tasks, yet there is often little or no explanation as to why we might bother to adhere to these rules. In Homegrown Revolution, explanations abound. Information leaps off the page and, unlike other books on lesser-known edibles where only common names are used (a dangerous ploy when people risk buying and eating the wrong plant or berries as a result), he includes Latin names.

Anyone who has been growing their own food for some time will undoubtedly have tried a few of the crops in James Wong’s Homegrown Revolution. Reading this book has added a handful of new plants to my wish list and happily we are at a time of year when I can make plans to include them. I am also inspired to eat some of the edibles I already grow as ornamentals and I am looking forward to giving Hosta greens and stir-fried wilted daylily flowers a try next year.

James Wong sets out to convert readers to growing more high-yield, expensive or difficult to purchase yet easily grown crops, but the value of the book is the information he includes: the history; the virtues of the crops he selects from his plant trials; recipes for homemade bug spray and fungicide; and advice on polyculture. It is a genuinely interesting read for anyone who is fascinated by plants, irrespective of whether the intention is to eat them.

Oh... and just in case you are wondering what made me so incensed on the first page... 

I believe that there is greater value to growing your own food than James Wong discusses in the introduction. I also believe that in the UK, all children should have the pleasure of putting a potato in a container or in the ground and nurturing it for a few weeks until harvest. The joy of harvesting new potatoes - that magic moment when you tip up a container or scrabble around in the soil looking for your haul of treasure should not be tossed lightly to one side in favour of fiddlehead fern fronds. 

I am hoping to link this review with Roses and Other Gardening Joys http://dreamingofroses.blogspot.com/2012/10/garden-book-reviews-october-2012.html. Now all I have to do is work out how to join a meme. I don’t even know how to pronounce the word, so if I manage to join, I won’t embarrass myself by telling anyone. Happy reading!

If you are interested in knowing more about James Wong's work, his official site is: www.jameswong.co.uk