It is with great reluctance that I have to announce the season is officially over. You see a summer garden without tomatoes isn’t a summer garden at all. I thought long and hard about it, but kept coming to the same conclusion – it is better to put the plants out of their misery than drag the sorry looking plants through a few more weeks, just so I can lie to myself about it still being summer. And to be honest this was a horrible summer and I would really like nothing more than to put it behind me.
In spite of the gloomy and soggy season that was not befitting of the name summer, the tomatoes surprisingly avoided blight. Which was a bit of a surprise as normally by now the decision to rip them out is forced upon me by this dreadful fungal condition. I’ll probably still burn the plants as they have patchy grey splotches from powdery mildew which is nothing more than annoying and aesthetically unpleasing. It may be responsible for the reduced harvest but to give it all the credit for this would be unfair as the weather conditions would have had a rather large hand in this as well.
I had 20 different varieties in the garden this season – all the healthiest of seedlings, all spaced well in soil enriched to suit their desires, irrigated regularly at the roots, in the early morning so as not to create a humid environment – although the weather just laughed in my face there, and I fed them regularly once they started to flower and I hoped for the best. But with the lower than normal for summer temperatures and plenty of gloomy sunless days, the plants didn’t stand a chance and there just wasn’t the bountiful harvest I’d seen in previous years.
Then finally once they did decide to change from green to red, it rained – a lot and I’d be out there with dark ominous clouds over my shoulder as I picked the ripe and almost ripe as fast as I could before the big fat drops splashed down from above. Those tomatoes that were left hanging inevitably split with all of the excess water being received at the roots. The flavour of these were never good as they hadn’t had the benefit of the full sunshine they should have and what flavour they had was diluted. And then just as the crop seemed to recover and have a new batch almost ready for harvest – the rain would come again.
Even the birds stopped eating my tomatoes, like they weren’t good enough to bother with. I guess I have to thank the weather conditions for the reduction of pests I’ve seen in my garden. The Green Vegetable Bug has hardly made an appearance and nothing like in previous years when there were many clambering over my tomatoes to suck the goodness out of them. Even the Cabbage White Butterfly numbers are down and I’ve managed to grow broccoli in the summer without having to pick caterpillars out from every nook and cranny before cooking. This is almost unheard of. I’ve not even seen many aphids. It is like some kind of garden wonderland. Well it would be if the weather was perfect too.
Although I did get the dreaded Tomato Potato Pysllid a couple of times, but I was able to stop his spread with spray before harm was done. Although harm to the host plant was almost unnoticeable in the fruit due to the already poor performance.
So with less than a full harvest stored away for the winter, possibly enough to last the first week of winter, I have put this sorry season behind me and wiped the slate clean. The tomatoes are gone and the bed will be topped up with well rotted manure in anticipation of the onions that will find themselves there on the shortest day that will technically herald the start of the new season – and it better be a good one.
Come again soon – autumn is making itself felt in the form of bulbs that need planting sooner rather than later!
Sarah the Gardener : o)
In honour of today being St Patrick’s Day and acknowledging the heritage of my family line… to be honest most kiwis will find Irish DNA bound up into the essence of who they are, and Scottish, and English and Swedish and Dutch – well something of everyone to be fair. But with a last name like ours you can not help but notice the Irish… I have decided to celebrate by doing a tribute to all things green.
I love to take the celebrations of different cultures – under the assumption that there is bound to be a bit of them in me and enjoy the occasion, be it a Guinness with the Irish on St Patrick’s Day or french fries with the French on Bastille Day. Nah, actually we are classier than that and usually celebrate with fine wine and French cuisine.
The reason we do this is life seems to slip through our fingers so fast, like there is no handbrake. It feels like New Year was a few weeks ago but now we somehow find us at March 17 with no idea how we got here. By creating moments to stop and be a little different means we have punctuation points throughout the year so when we look back there are memorable moments and not just a blur of the ordinary.
Gardeners are blessed as the act of gardening puts them directly in touch with seasons and the passing of time. We are slowed right down to the rhythm of nature. We know how to wait as seeds take their time to emerge, tomatoes take forever to go from green to red. But even then the season can be over in the blink of an eye.
Life passes by. This is inevitable. But I for one want to notice every last minute of every day. I like to stop and smell the roses and enjoy all my garden has to offer me.
Happy St Patrick’s Day to ya.
Come again soon – the weather is being nice again… for now.
Sarah the Gardener : o)
I was trying to think of something funny and witty for my title. But soggy is not good, but is the present state of my garden. I’m not really all that happy about it. I got so used to finally having lovely hot summer like days – even though it was technically autumn. I revelled in the fact it was too hot to sleep and the hum of the fan made a wonderful lullaby. It was energising to be greeted by the sun each morning and the chorus of the birds were drowned out by the cries of the cicadas who were already basking in the warmth of the day. Tending to the garden was a joy and a pleasure. It was too hot for weeds to grow so it was just a bit of primping and preening here and harvesting and sowing there, then coming in out of the midday sun for a bit of a break and back out again in the afternoon for even more gardening fun.
This is how it should have been all summer, but I accepted this autumn blessing and ran with it. Sadly, it came to an abrupt end. Wednesday started with a warning, a magnificent red glow lit up the dawn sky. The boffins had been jumping up and down suggesting we all brace ourselves for bad weather, but to be honest the sky was what really convinced me. The sky became progressively gloomier as the day wore on and then the heavens opened and started to rain. Big fat heavy drops. The ones that mean business and they dramatically fell to the parched earth. My garden received 55mm in the first 24 hours. Then we had a reprieve for a day, although the sun didn’t come back. Then it rained again and we receive another 85mm in a torrential period that seemed to last for hours then it eased back to a drizzle until the final pounding delivered another 23mm.
It was almost like nature was following the rules for rehydrating a parched soil… start slowly to break the dry crusty seal, then wait and allow it to soak in and create pathways deep into the soil. Then come back and water deeply on a ground more receptive to receiving moisture to the depths of the root zone and beyond. Then once more to make sure every last part of the dry soil is rehydrated.
Having said that – nature did leave the tap running a bit too long and created puddles and surface water across the garden. I have to say I have been guilty of this myself in the past so know how easy it can happen. You pop the sprinkler on, check the time and think I’ll just do these few chores, and come back and turn the tap off. Then half way through dinner, or even worse, you’re lying in bed and you sit bolt upright as you remember…”oh no… the sprinkler….!!!!”
So now the rain has gone, the garden is nicely hydrated, the sun is shining again, the cicadas are singing once more, but it isn’t the same. There is a barely perceivable chill that wasn’t there before. The surface of things maybe dry but there is a sogginess deep down. The tomatoes are completely bedraggled and makes you wonder if it is worth leaving them there. And the weeds have responded with great excitement to the rain and created a carpet of green wherever there was bare soil a week ago. There is a lot to be done, but the spring has long since gone from my step. There is no denying it now. We are in the final days of this growing season.
Come again soon – this doesn’t mean the garden comes to a halt, it is just different.
Sarah the Gardener : o)
A good burger NEEDS a slice of beetroot between its buns and above the meat patty. That is the kiwi way. I was making homemade burgers for tea the other day and reached into the fridge for the jar of beetroot, but even lurking at the back with the nasturtium seed ‘poor man’s capers’ that are ok but we rarely use them, the pickled green beans that were ‘interesting’ and 3 jars of gherkin with a single slice floating in each, the cheese that must have gotten lost down there in the back because it had gone quite hard and a cucumber stub that we should have finished off a week ago, and would have, had it not been pushed to the back, there was not a sign of beetroot.
So I went to my larder and rummaged around there. I found a few things I’d forgotten about – jams and relishes that were too good to have slipped my memory and pulled them towards the front. I moved all of the older jars to within reach so they would get eaten first and made sure my most recent additions were on the top shelf so they could mature, or wouldn’t jump the queue and cause some other jam to languish for possibly years in a dark corner. But I couldn’t find any beetroot, so we had to go without.
The garden had beetroot in it. It had been there a long time. Almost too long. I sowed the seeds enthusiastically in the spring, in the greenhouse with all of the other spring time seeds. They could have been sown out in the open, in the ground where they are to live all season, but the spring was soggy and it just wasn’t as nice as in the warm cosy greenhouse. Besides when I grow them indoors I can indulge in my control freakery and space them out nicely. Each seed is actually a corky cluster of 1 – 3 seeds and so then you have to do the dreaded thinning. I hate waste. But if I start them in seed trays I can just separate them out once they get their true leaves and they all get a chance to grow big and get eaten.
Then when the weather warmed up I spaced them out about 20cm apart and waited, making sure they are well watered, although in this summer that wasn’t too much of a problem. They are such a low maintenance crop, nothing really bothers them and they just do their thing and grow big. They are so versatile as you can eat them raw in salads and I made a delish one the other night with pear, raw beetroot, mint and lemon juice dressing. Beetroot goes great in a chocolate muffin, but best of all, it is a pantry staple just sliced and pickled.
So now the larder has been replenished, and our burgers once again can live up to the kiwi tradition of a slice of beetroot in its midst.
Come again soon – once I’ve pickled peppers and onions, the garden will show me what to do next.
Sarah the Gardener : o)
NB: Scroll over the photos for the recipe
The overlap into autumn, the next season has officially begun. It is kind of weird because, aside from the onions and garlic, the transition from winter to spring is effectively a blank canvas. The beds are empty, cold and often wet. In the best case scenario they are free from weeds but often they are a wild jungle that needs taming – with a machete. This sounds quite a miserable situation, but the enthusiasm is strong and the work required is tackled with gusto because the taste of a sun warm tomato is almost there on the lips as much as it is in the memory. Aside from memories from last season and the hope that it will be better, there isn’t much of an overlap at all.
The progression from spring to summer is all about progress. Aside from the anomaly of the onions and garlic, not a lot is coming out. Most of the plants are growing and beginning to bear fruit. There isn’t a lot of coming and going, just a lot of going on. The switch between the seasons is almost unperceivable and doesn’t have quite the anticipation as spring does. Although the warmer days and longer evenings are gratefully received.
The arrival of autumn on the other hand is tinged with sadness. The heydays are coming to an end. The glory days of summer fruit and bountiful harvests find their way into jars and freezers to remind us in the depths of winter just how good we had it. Plants that have stood for a good six months collapse exhausted in a compost heap. But with the passing of the good times, autumn throws us a bone and gives us cool season crops that planted in the lingering heat of the fading summer grow perfectly well as the temperatures slowly decline into winter days. A gardener can continue to indulge in growing a good crop even on days when the sun doesn’t shine and a beanie is needed to keep the chill from around the ears.
And then winter comes and the garden stands still. The plants that remain there from the autumn wait patiently to be eaten, growing almost unnoticed and gradually the beds empty out waiting for the spring.
But we’ve only just entered autumn so I will try not to dwell on the winter just yet. The days still feel like summer should and aside from the date on a calendar could still very well be. The soil is still warm and plants are growing with vigour. The harvest is still coming in and will continue to for quite some time. But not forgetting it will all be over soon for many plants, I took my plan and laid down seeds to ensure the harvest would continue well into the winter. There is a quiet comfort knowing there will be plants growing for months to come that will need my tender care and I can continue to wear the label of contented gardener.
Come again soon – I may just get into a bit of a pickle.
Sarah the Gardener : o)
As I perched precariously between the branches half way up my young peach tree, reaching out to bend tender branches bearing the best fruit towards me, I remember thinking “what am I doing? I’m getting to old for this.” To be fair the tree isn’t that young. It was the first tree I planted in my orchard about 9 years ago, so while still young in the life of a tree, it is probably more of an adolescent and can take on a bit more than a sapling. I remember when it arrived, it was no more than a stick and I tenderly planted it and hoped for the best. And the best we got. My goodness. Those peaches are the sweetest, juiciest amazing fruit I’ve ever had. I have the name written down somewhere but for the life of me can’t remember where.
These peaches have been a huge distraction from the moment I decided I’d just pop down to the orchard to see if they are ready yet. They are about a month later than last year but there are no surprises there thanks to the gloomy weather, but well worth waiting for. I have eaten more than is probably good for you in one sitting and I have made 7 jars of peach jam with the bird pecked ones – I just cut the bad bits out. Waste not want not and all of that. But most shocking of all, they even caused me to abandon the exciting task of sowing my seeds for the new season to come.
Summer officially ends tomorrow. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I have mixed feelings. Half of me just wants to put it all behind us and put all my hope and expectation into next season. The other half is sad because gone with it is the possibility that it will come right and we will get nice days. All we have to look forward to now is the slow descent into the cooler weather and darker evenings.
The one blessing is we can grow all year round here and before I got excited about the peaches I began preparing a nursery bed to start my seedlings off in. It gets way to hot to grow them in small pots in the greenhouse. They’d fry in an instant. I even made a video of how I prepared the nursery garden. You can check it out here:
But for now I need to go back outside while it is still summer and sow those seeds.
Come again soon – autumn does have its advantage.
Sarah the Gardener :o)
I can’t put it off any longer. While the days are full of heat, the kind we haven’t seen all summer, and the air is thick with the sounds of cicadas, finally able to bask in the kind of temperatures they prefer and the skies endlessly blue, this morning when I woke up, I found myself reaching for my slippers. It wasn’t cold as in brr cold, but that easy comfort of waking up and walking across the floor in bare feet was sullied by a coolness that offended my early morning senses. Autumn is knocking at the door, demanding a turn, with no regard whatsoever to summers late appearance.
Even if we were to get an extended summer, I can’t really put off starting my cool season crops now so I don’t miss the window of opportunity as plants have their own sense of timing and often it is different to what I’d like it to be. It is quite humbling to remember that the plants are the ones in charge of things, as the gardener I am just doing their bidding, and enabling them to grow. It’s a bit like kids really, we brought them into this place, and given them what they need, fed them, trained them and then eventually their personality and their way of being is what results in their fruitfulness. I’m feeling a little sentimental today, as today I find myself with my first teenager, who is confident, determined and happy and ready for the next season in his life. It doesn’t seem that long ago he needed all the nurturing of a tiny seedling in the warmth of a greenhouse. Where does the time go?
It seems to race by and each day that passes is making me painfully aware winter will be hot on the heels of this impatient to get started autumn, like my teenage child, so I need to prepare the ground and sow seeds so the winter will be a fruitful and bountiful place. So I studied my plan of the garden and tried to make sense of it all to get the most out of it.
Fifteen beds are immediately eliminated from the winter garden planning as they have permanent crops in them. That is just under half of them which makes things a lot less daunting. Things like strawberries, rhubarb, artichoke, asparagus, the berries and the herbs. They will need things done to them over the next few months but the beds aren’t available for planting and won’t lie barren over the coming seasons.
Most of the things I want to grow over the next few months and can actually grow fall into the brassica family and I’ll pop them into the existing brassica bed. They should all be done and dusted by the time I need the bed again in the spring for all my odds and sods and exciting crops. It isn’t ideal to plant brassicas in the same place year after year, to avoid the build up of club root disease in the soil. However, in my crop rotation cycle, there won’t be brassicas again in this bed for seven years so two crops in one year shouldn’t be too much of a problem. The kinds of brassicas I’ll grow are pretty much the standard stuff – the things we’ll actually eat. After all these years of growing, the weird and the wonderful start to lose their allure as the excitement gained in the growing is often lost in the kitchen, when you are overloaded with things you aren’t entirely sure what to do with and hate to admit you don’t actually like the flavour. I won’t be growing tomatillos again.
So in the brassica bed I’ll plant cabbage, cauliflower, broccoli, romanesco, turnips, kohlrabi and to take advantage of the cooling weather some radish. Having said that I am going to try a Wombok cabbage which is similar to a Napa Cabbage to see what all the fuss is about.
The bed the odds and sods were in over the summer, still has peanuts, okra, eggplant and tomatillo thriving there. They can take their time and the first frost will probably take care of them. I’m in no hurry for the bed as the onion overflow will take their place when the time is right. This is generally my leeks and shallots and varieties I want to try that don’t fit in the main onion bed. I like to try to grow enough onions to last the year.
Meanwhile the leeks in the old onion overflow bed can stay put so we can eat them fresh throughout the winter. The beans will go in there next season but they do best sown directly in soil about 18°C, so we have plenty of time to eat the leeks. I’ll pop in some more spring onions too as they are so versatile for that mild onion flavour.
In the past I’ve sown autumn sowings of carrots in their summer bed, but then find I’ve no room in the spring for the salad that can be started earlier in the season and after a winter of comfort food are often craved for their crunch. So this season I have started sowing the successive rows in where they will be next year – where the potatoes were. Well technically still are as I’ve popped in a sneaky couple of rows hoping for a late crop. I’ll put some fennel and beetroot in here too as they normally cohabitate with the carrots with no problems at all and grow well over our mild winter months. The hardy varieties of salad will stay in their summer beds as they are such a quick crop on the grand scheme of things they won’t hold up the new season brassicas at all.
The pea bed had some broccoli and painted mountain corn in it over the summer months and the broccoli is ready to harvest the corn isn’t far away so the timing is perfect to sow some autumn peas. This is their old bed and their new bed will be where the zucchini and butternut squash is still doing their thing. And call me a sucker, but I may pop in a few broad beans.
The last seeds to consider are the onions and garlic, which generally go in mid winter and will go in where the peppers and tomatoes currently are. All going well they will last until the frost, so there isn’t much time to do anything fancy with the beds to prepare them other than spread them with some well-rotted manure that my lovely farmer friend brings me in his tractor. The rotted manure will also go in the squash bed as the peas that will go in there next season get an early start and so I wouldn’t want to hold them up with a crop. I’ll just lay it across the top and let the worms do the work.
I’m still undecided about what to do with the pea bed once it’s finished – whether I use more manure to enrich the bed to prepare for the following seasons tomatoes or sow mustard to clean the soil, just in case there are problems lurking there. The old carrot bed is a tough one too – as the parsnips smack bang in the middle get eaten over the winter and so it is jolly inconvenient to have them there in terms of future prep. I may just have to keep this bed weed free and enrich it in the spring.
Where hungry plants like the corn, leafy greens and cucumber are now – I’ll plant lupin… having said that the silverbeet lasts all winter… hmmm, not sure now. It’ll give something back ready for the next crop when I dig it in before it flowers.
And finally I’ll put wheat in the mixed bed and pumpkin bed as these are in ground and not raised so it will help to hold their place against the encroaching weeds, as wheat is allopathic and will deter other things from growing there and it will give me some mulch for the rest of the garden in the summer. I’ll also pop some wheat where the zucchini and squash will go as they don’t need the bed until it is really warm in the spring so there will be plenty of time to get a good crop.
So now what I need to do is create a nursery bed – possibly in an unused corner of the leek bed as it is far too hot to grow seedlings in the greenhouse and wait patiently for summer to come to an end so I can put these plans in place.
Come again soon – there are seeds to sow and plenty to harvest.
Sarah the Gardener : o)
I’m starting to get the hang of this flower garden thing. Especially with my fabulous organisational sector system. Instead of being rather low on the priority list – because they are only flowers, they now get seen to every Friday. Having said that, the poor plants in the old Friday sector do suffer a little from end-of-week-itis as opposed to those in the Monday sector which get the bright-and-early treatment. But now I am actually spending time with them, instead of passing them by with an “I’ll get to you soon” mentality that is tinged with guilt.
I like having the flowers there and have even begun to pick them and bring them indoors. Although my flower arranging leaves a lot to be desired. My most successful arrangements to date are when a single stem zinnia graces a small narrow necked vase. I have loads of these about the place and they last for ages.
I have even got tough with myself and strictly pull out self-seeded flowers that emerge beside the weeds from the seeds deposited from a couple of seasons worth of neglect. The flower garden is now much more orderly – well it is supposed to be a cutting garden, and gone are the days when I allowed self-seeded pumpkins and tomatoes to run rampant through it all!
I have discovered some that I have planted are perennials and come back year after year, unfortunately, I have changed the layout and I’m not entirely sure I want them where they are. Others I thought were perennials were in fact biennials and disappeared without a trace in year three. I can’t believe I’ve being trying to master flowers for three years now. But to be fair as I was mostly disorganised in the garden it was more of a plant out and fend for yourself kind of operation. I mean they were just flowers after all.
I am discovering they actually have a lot in common with veggies. For example, if I stagger my plantings of sunflowers then I can enjoy them throughout the summer as they seem to grind to a halt midsummer if you start them too early and then a summer storm blows through leaving them quite bedraggled. This isn’t too dissimilar to succession planting of my lettuce or carrots as I quite like to have them available all season long so replant regularly.
The other thing is I’m always telling people with veggies – especially peas and beans, the more you pick the more you get. Well it turns out, being as flowers are plants too, the same applies! While I may not be able to pick every single flower like I would with the peas, and bring them inside to hideously arrange, and besides it is nice to leave a few to look nice in the garden, the same rules apply.
With peas and beans if you miss a few and they are allowed to go from sweet young tender pods into hard, inedible seeds, then the plant thinks it has done its job, created progeny and its future is secure, so it stops and pretty much dies. Flowers are exactly the same. When you pick all its potential offspring off the plant, it shrugs it off and starts again attempting to create new seed for the future.
So you should pick all you can, and for those left behind then when they get a bit sad and tired, cut them off, before they get to the setting seed stage. In some situations, if a flower is allowed to set seeds they can quickly become a weed. They also go from being a thing of beauty to an eyesore.
And there is a strange pleasure to be found by lingering in the garden with a good pair of scissors doing a bit of deadheading and snipping off the heads of old and tired flowers. If you do it often there often isn’t much to do, and as you work your way across the plant you will find more emerging flower buds waiting for their chance to bloom in the sunshine and you end up with a display that seems to last forever, or until the frost comes along and wipes them out for good.
Come again soon – I wonder what flowers I can sow now for some winter colour
Sarah the Gardener : o)
I have spent a lot of time over the years just plodding about in my own garden and this made me perfectly happy. I love my garden and I wake up every morning and feel blessed to be living where we do. It is my slice of paradise and gives me all I need – all the vegies we can eat, an incredible vista, all the space in the world for my kids to run around in, a garden to enjoy and a meagre income to be earned from the fact that we live here. So at the end of the day it is fair to say I don’t get out much. And I’m ok with that.
But last week I got a call from the lovely Lynda Hallinan, to invite me to give a talk at her Heroic Garden Party. This leads into a wonderful weekend of garden visits for the Heroic Garden Festival where amazing gardens across Auckland throw open their gates with all funds raised going to Hospice. It was such a worthwhile cause and an amazing invitation that I could hardly refuse.
The best thing is the venue for the garden party was the amazing Ayrlies Garden – a Garden of International Significance. The weather had been rotten for the last few days and the boffins had said it would continue to be horribly rainy so it didn’t bode well. No matter how incredible a garden is, loads of folk viewing it in the rain wouldn’t have been very nice at all. But the day cleared to be lovely, but quite muggy and it was refreshing when the water was bubbling over rocks into gorgeous lakes rather than falling from the sky.
From the moment we arrived, you could tell it was an immaculately kept garden and with every turn of the path it didn’t disappoint. I brought Hubby the Un-Gardener with me so he could lug all my stuff about the place and I thought it was fair enough he came garden visiting with me as I’ve been to a few boat shows so we need to even things up. But even he was swept up by the grandeur of the place. We perused the market place eying up all the cool bits and bobs for sale and resisted temptation to buy any plants. I guess this is the upside of only really doing veggie gardening. The vast array of plants before you look really amazing but you wouldn’t have the first idea how to care for them so you just admire them in their pots and walk on by with your money in your pocket.
But I looked at this garden and there was something about it that stirred something in me. We need this in our slice of paradise. The restful nature of a large body of water, the dappled light through shady glades and the play of brightly coloured plants contrasting against pale ones. Meandering paths that lead you on a journey through the garden and of course what better reason than to have statues, columns and objet D’art waiting to be discovered. And hundreds of flowers of all different kinds, colours and shapes. The garden was amazing and it made me long for something more from our roughly mown paddocks. Besides they had to start somewhere all those years ago.
But I couldn’t linger in the beauty of the garden too long as I had to go off and give my talk on separating fact from fiction in the veggie garden, which was well received and is one of my favourite topics. Every day I see so many illogical things being suggested to try on hapless gardens, so it is nice to be able to set the record straight.
Then before we knew it the day had drawn to a close and as we headed home, even Hubby the Un-Gardener was excitedly discussing the possibility of having a lake in our backyard. Now my sector systems are working as well as I had hoped they would in the veggie patch, I think I can find some time to learn about the finer points of landscape gardening. It won’t happen overnight, but I do sincerely hope it will happen.
Come again soon – it is almost time to get those cool season seeds started. Where did my summer go?
Sarah the Gardener : o)
If you want to find out more about Ayrlies Garden you can click >HERE<
February has mostly been kind so far, the days that have been hot and sunny have not disappointed and have been proper summer hot and sunny. We just won’t talk about the other days… But things in the garden are ripening up at a great rate of knots and it is fabulous to do my meal planning right there in the garden.
And with that, I was so proud to see my savoy cabbages were ready. Two of them! At the same time. We’d never eat that much cabbage in one go so I had to think about ways to use up cabbage – a lot of cabbage. The idea popped into my head, “I know, I’ll make Kimchi.” This was rather a strange thought as not only had I never made it before, but I’d never eaten it before. It was going to be an interesting journey.
After a lot of research on the great big internet, I had a vague idea of how it should be done and headed off to our nearest Asian supermarket. It had such a vast array of cool stuff that I didn’t know what it all was, but would love to have tried. They didn’t have any Kimchi Powder – a key ingredient in Kimchi, but I didn’t leave empty handed. I bought a grass jelly drink… ummm yeah… interesting. Do everything once and the fun things twice. I think I’ll stick to once on this one.
So I decided to create my own inauthentic Kimchi powder, which rested well enough with me as after my research I had discovered I have the wrong kind of cabbage. I had a savoy and proper Kimchi is made with Napa cabbage. I’ve decided to grow one this winter in the off chance I actually like Kimchi. The other key ingredient I didn’t have was a Daikon Radish, but I was committed to the project now and there was no stopping me so I substituted it for a Kolhrabi. She’ll be right.
Now you can watch the bringing together of all these wonderful ingredients on my latest video. You may want to grab some popcorn as it is a tad longer than my normal videos, but it will entertain you as I make my Inauthentic Kimchi.
Come again soon – I have my garden plan and I’m gathering seeds. It’ll be sow time very soon.
Sarah the Gardener : o)