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In early July I sit down and think of winter. With my boxes of vegetable seed and Joy Larkcom on the table before me this is when I start to plan what to sow from the end of the month and into August and September. Although it takes some discipline at midsummer to cast my mind into a dark, cold future these are the crops that are starting to provide for us now, so it is time well spent, ensuring that we are not simply dependent on a diet of roots and brassicas through the cold months.
Fennel – also known as bulb or Florence fennel, to differentiate it from the soft herb – is one of my favourite of these midsummer sowings. Despite having a reputation for being tricky, for us it has so far proven to be easy to germinate, trouble-free to grow on, easy to transplant and productive. In early August I sowed 24 modules with two seeds to each to allow for failures. Once germinated I removed the weakest seedling from each module.
Like all umbellifers fennel produces long tap roots, so I use root trainer modules of the sort you might use for sweet peas or broad beans. These ensure that the roots have space to grow down and don’t become tangled and congested, which prevents them from growing away when they are transplanted. Ideally fennel prefers to be sown in situ, but these summer sowings are destined for the polytunnel, and in August we are in the middle of prime tomato production, so the modules were put into the cold frame to germinate and grown on for about a month before being planted out in mid-September.
Fennel is a Mediterranean marsh plant, which needs rich soil and constant moisture to do well. Cold and drought will cause it to bolt in record time, sending up a tough flower spike which quickly makes the whole plant stringy and inedible in a matter of days. Even with very regular watering I have found it impossible to grow the huge, swollen white bulbs you see at the greengrocer or supermarket, but the flavour is good – some would say better – from the smaller ones. You often see these sold as ‘baby fennel’. I have read that lining the trenches you plant the fennel in with perforated plastic sheet retains more moisture and replicates the marsh-like conditions they favour and so I plan to try this method next year to see if it produces larger plants.
On the same day that I sowed the fennel I also made sowings of a new crop for us, ‘Black Spanish Round’ radishes. These were sown direct in the Kitchen Garden, in two rows 30cm apart with plants thinned to 15cm apart after germination. We have very bad flea beetle here which eat the emerging seedlings of all the brassicas we grow, but particularly turnips, swedes, Japanese mustard greens and radishes so all of these are covered with a layer of horticultural fleece or micromesh to protect them until the seedlings can grow away fast enough to leave the ravages of the beetles behind. A regular, careful check beneath the fleece is also needed to keep an eye on the ground slugs which can decimate a young crop. At this end of the season, you rapidly run out of re-sowing time if the first sowing is lost.
The radishes are now the size of tennis balls and have a rough dark skin, unlike the red-blushed breakfast radishes we are more familiar with. Beneath the skin the flesh is pure white, crisp and with the familiar radish pepperiness. They can be eaten raw when young or cooked in any recipe that calls for turnips, to which they bear a strong resemblance in flavour. Hardy up to -10°C they can be left in the ground all winter, but you will avoid slug damage or the predations of mice and voles if you lift them around now and store them somewhere cool and dark.
A fine, chilled sharply dressed fennel salad is one of the most uplifting of dishes for the winter table. The mild aniseed flavour and succulent crispness are invigorating and refreshing. While they are still young and tender enough I thought that these new radishes would pair well with the fennel and slices of succulent ‘Doyenné du Comice’ pear, harvested last month and which we are bringing into the house one at a time to ripen on the window sill.
Both the fennel and radish should be as finely sliced as possible using a mandolin or a very sharp knife. It is essential to put them both into iced water as this crisps them up and causes the radish to curl, which adds to the attractiveness of the plate.
If you are not able to get black radish then a small turnip will be a better substitute than breakfast radishes, which in any case are hard to come by at this time of year and too small to have the right kind of textural impact here. Alternatively, and perhaps easier to find, are the long Japanese radishes known as mooli.
This is a good companion to rich meat dishes, oily fish or a cheeseboard.
200g fennel
200g black radish, turnip or mooli
1 large, perfectly ripe pear
6 leaves of red or variegated chicory. e.g. Palla Rossa or Castelfranco
40g hazelnuts
1 lemon, juiced
Dressing
1 lemon, juice and zest
1 tbsp crème fraiche or Greek yogurt
1 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp honey or maple syrup
3 tbsp hazelnut oil
3 tbsp rapeseed oil
A small bunch of mint, leaves removed
A small handful of fennel fronds, removed from the stalks
Sea salt
Serves 4
Set the oven to 180°C. Put the hazelnuts into a baking dish in the oven and allow to toast for 10 minutes, checking regularly to prevent burning. Alternatively heat a small frying pan and toast the nuts until fragrant and lightly scorched. Allow to cool, rub off the skins and crush coarsely in a mortar.
Put all of the dressing ingredients, except the herbs, into a bowl and whisk to combine. Chop the mint and fennel very finely and add to the dressing.
Fill a large bowl with cold water and either add ice cubes or put into the freezer for 20 minutes to thoroughly chill.
Peel the radish and slice as thinly as possible using a mandolin or very sharp knife. Put the slices into the iced water. Do the same with the fennel.
In a medium sized bowl put the juice of the first lemon and a cup of cold water.
Carefully cut the pear into quarters, core and cut each quarter lengthwise into 6 slices. Immediately put the slices into the lemon water as you go to prevent browning.
Tear the radicchio into pieces.
Drain the radish and fennel. Put into a salad spinner or clean tea towel to get as dry as possible. Return to the bowl with the torn radicchio. Pour over about two thirds of the dressing and mix with together your hands to combine and coat everything.
Remove the pears from the lemon water and dry on a clean tea towel. Add to the salad and very carefully combine so as not to break the pear pieces.
Using your hands, carefully arrange the salad on the serving plate. Pour over the remainder of the dressing. Scatter a few reserved fennel fronds. Toss over the hazelnuts and serve.
Recipe and photographs | Huw Morgan
Published 13 November 2021
It was exactly a year ago, in the first week of lockdown, that we committed to buying a polytunnel. That same week I placed a very late seed order primarily for tomatoes, but some chillis, aubergines and cucumbers came too and we started them off indoors at the end of March. This late start was further compounded by the delayed arrival of the polytunnel itself, so that the seedlings intended for it had to be held back by hardening them off in a makeshift structure of seed trays and pieces of glass, since the cold frames were full. Although they got a little leggy and had to be watched carefully to ensure their 9cm pots did not dry out, they escaped the very late frost we had on May 12th and were finally planted into their grow bags in the first week of June.
This year I sowed the tender veg a full month earlier in late February, starting them off on the airing rack above the kitchen range before moving them to a warm windowsill as soon as they started to germinate. We are always keen to try new varieties and this year, alongside our old favourites ‘Gardener’s Delight’ and ‘Sungold’, I made a selection from Real Seeds based on productivity and hardiness, and also a range from very earlies to lates to see if we can stretch the season and push the tomato harvest into early winter. ‘Amish Paste’ is a heavy-cropping, extra-large preserving tomato, which I am trying instead of ‘San Marzano’, ‘Feo di Rio Gordo’, a deeply ribbed Spanish beefsteak variety that is reputedly very early for its size, while two Ukrainian varieties, ‘Purple Ukraine’ and the peach-fleshed ‘Lotos’, have late seasons, the latter with a reputation as one of the latest-cropping tomatoes, with fruit still pickable in late December.
Last year’s aubergines suffered from not being planted out soon enough and failed in the frames so, determined to have a crop this year, we have three varieties on trial; ‘Black Beauty’, which has a reputation as the most reliable cropper in the UK climate, which it seemed to prove by being the first and most profligate to germinate and with the largest, heartiest seedlings. Germination of the other two varieties – ‘Tsakoniki’, a Greek heirloom variety and ‘Rotonda Bianca Sfumata di Rosa’, both from Thomas Etty – was a little patchier, but we have enough seedlings to have three plants of each and still have some left to give away to friends and neighbours.
As well as new chillis ‘Basque’ and ‘Chilhuacle Negro’ I have succeeded in germinating the seed of some tiny superheat red chilli bought at Kos market two summers ago and I’m trying sweet peppers for the first time (‘Kaibi Round No. 2’ and ‘Amanda Sweet Wax Pepper’, also from Real Seeds) as well as two varieties of melon (‘Petit Gris de Rennes’ and ‘Charentais’), which I’m hoping will get enough light and heat to provide us with something truly exotic in the fruit department this year. All of the above were sown in the last week of February and they are all, bar the melons, ready to be pricked out into larger pots this weekend.
The delay in planting out last year had a continuing knock-on effect, and the last of the tomatoes were harvested in late October so that we could remove the grow bags (which were were last year’s quick fix) to build four raised beds. These allowed us to build up the level and enrich the soil of the unimproved pasture on which the polytunnel is sited with well rotted manure. We intend to practice no dig with these beds and so the retaining edge will help to keep things tidy.
Although I had sown a variety of oriental greens, winter salads, chard, kale and soft herbs from the beginning of September and into October and November it soon became apparent that this was also too late since, by the time the raised beds were finished in early November, the days had shortened to the point that none of the seedlings would make no further growth before the end of the year. These plug plants sat rather reproachfully in the cold polytunnel until late January, when I finally planted them out as the days slowly started to lengthen. However, they have now been providing us with salad and greens for two weeks or more and have more parsley, coriander and dill than we know what to do with.
Despite the late start what has become immediately apparent is that, with well-timed sowing and transplanting, the polytunnel will allow us to close the ‘hungry gap’ of late winter and early spring. In addition to salad and oriental greens there has been a seamless handover from the waning kale and turnip greens in the kitchen garden to those that were sown in plugs in late November and have now taken up the baton. With this knowledge I am now planning two late summer sowings of winter greens and salads, turnips and beets for late July and late August to take us through the season. I started my first salad, beetroot and kohl rabi sowings off in the tunnel this year and they have responded well to the warmth and even light, but we are also planning to build a hotbed in the polytunnel this winter so that we can get even further ahead with early sowings and keep our most tender seedlings warm at night.
Alongside planning for future winter crops this is now the time to get moving outside. The broad beans that I sowed in modules in early March in the polytunnel have been hardened off for a couple of days this week, ready to be planted outside. And it is potato and onion weekend. The potatoes have been chitting in egg trays in the tool shed for the past three weeks or so and will be going into newly dug ground that we have enclosed around the polytunnel. This will free up more space in the kitchen garden to get a better successional rotation going, as well as allowing us to extend the range of vegetables we can grow, like Jerusalem artichokes which are very space hungry and freezer harvest crops like the ‘Cupidon’ beans of which we can eat any amount.
And I will also be pricking out the tomatoes, which is where this all started. Holding them carefully by their first cotyledons I will extricate their roots from one another, acutely aware of the time, energy and care that has got them this far. I will move slowly and carefully so that none are wasted. I will lower them into the soil of their own pots, give them a drink and then leave them to get on with it until it is their time to take the stage again.
Words & photographs: Huw Morgan
Published 27 March 2021
We have just returned from the Climate Strike march in Bath City centre.
Like many of us this year I have been inspired by the school children’s and young students’ worldwide strikes in the name of Fridays for Future, initiated by the example of Greta Thunberg.
Like many of us I have also felt guilt and shame at the fact that we, the older generation, have left it to the young to draw international attention to something that we have been aware of since before these young people were born.
Well, now there is no turning away. There can be no more heads buried in the sand.
During 7 minutes of seated silence this morning I looked around me at all of the people. I thought about how all these like minds and their kind around the globe will have all been trying to make small differences to counteract what we know are the causes of climate change, global pollution and environmental pillage.
I thought about the corporations, businesses and individuals that have benefitted from the destruction of our environment fully aware of the cost to the planet, and reflected on the kind of person who knowingly robs future generations of their future for short term financial profit.
I berated myself; for not engaging, for not doing enough, for consuming too much, for judging others for their apparent profligacy.
I considered how we can have an effect. What can we all do that will make the biggest change ?
The word that entered my head was simplicity. No more than you need.
I intend to make changes. I plan to be stricter with myself. I am sure I will lapse. I know there will be challenges.
It is also essential to enjoy what life offers. To know that it is not only our responsibility to effect change. We must force those that are able to create the biggest and most meaningful changes – governments, manufacturers, agriculture, industry – to face up to their responsibilities to ensure there is a future world that humans can inhabit.
The main ingredients in this dish are from the garden, prepared simply and just enough for one
100g fine green beans
1 pear, about 100g
10 cobnuts, about 20g
A small handful of young salad leaves – lettuce, mizuna, mustard greens, rocket, spinach
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 tablespoon hazelnut oil
Salt
Put a saucepan of water on to boil.
Remove the tops from the beans and boil for 3 minutes. Drain and refresh in cold water.
Shell the cobnuts and slice coarsely.
Wash and dry the salad leaves.
Put the lemon juice into a large bowl.
Quarter the pear and core. Cut each quarter lengthways into 3 pieces. Put them immediately into the bowl with the lemon juice and toss to coat.
Add the beans, salad leaves and cobnuts.
Drizzle over hazelnut oil.
Season with salt and toss everything together.
Serve.
Recipe & photographs | Huw Morgan
Published 21 September 2019
It has been too hot to cook. Too hot to do much at all. And yet the Kitchen Garden has been demanding attention. If we take our eye off the ball right now we will find that currants and berries will rot on the bush, in late summer there will be no more salad and, come autumn, there will no turnips, swedes or winter lettuce. Harvesting has become a twice daily occurrence and beds must be cleared to make room for the last of the summer sown crops.
A couple of weekends ago, just as we were preparing to head off to Hokkaido, we spent two mornings picking gooseberries and blackcurrants for the freezer. If you have a hat and water bottle and keep in the shade of the bushes, this can be a very pleasant way to pass a hot, sunny morning with friends; picking, chatting, eating and laughing. The resulting Tupperwares full of berries are their own reward. Whenever I am squatting on my milking stool picking blackcurrants I remember – always too late – Sarah Raven’s method, which is to cut out the oldest canes when laden with fruit and then take these to a comfortable, shady spot to pick the berries off at leisure. Needless to say this is never the way it happens.
We returned from Japan to find that both sowings of peas – one late winter, another mid spring – had caught up with each other and we had a pea glut comparable with the currant glut. Here it was a much more straightforward decision to simply take out the plants – leaving their nitrogen-fixing roots in the soil – and pick off the pods in the shade of the open barn by the house. Nothing can compare to the satisfaction of podding peas into a bowl and I have a particular fondness for shelling them into a red enamel metal bowl, which reverberates like a gong as the peas hit the sides, its colour vibrating against the green of the peas.
The peas are no longer in their prime, but freshly picked and quickly cooked, they are still quite delicious. We most often eat peas cold in summer. Thrown into a pan of boiling water for a few minutes, drained and then refreshed in cold water I will throw a couple of handfuls into salads, or puree them with mint, stock and cream to make both a green hummus-like dip or a thinner, refreshing chilled soup. Peas and white cheeses of all sorts go together beautifully, both the salty – feta, halloumi, pecorino – and creamy – Vignotte, goat curd, ricotta – providing different types of contrast to peas’ natural sweetness.
Here burrata – a type of mozzarella filled with cheese ‘rags’ and cream – provides a decadent richness which, mixing with the basil oil dressing, creates a delicious sauce. It is customary to serve burrata at room temperature but, when it’s as hot as it has been, I prefer the cheese to be lightly chilled, and so take it out of the fridge around 20 minutes before it is needed. If you can’t get hold of burrata then substitute with a good quality, fresh buffalo mozzarella or a piece of ripe Vignotte.
Per person
100g shelled peas
A small handful of young leaves; lettuce, pea shoots, watercress, rocket
1 burrata or burratina, 100g weight
4 large Genovese basil leaves
3 tablespoons olive oil
½ small clove garlic
Zest and juice of ¼ lemon
¼ teaspoon salt
Small-leaved basil or torn Genovese basil to serve
Wash and dry the salad leaves.
Put a pan of water on to boil.
Put the salt, garlic and basil leaves into a mortar and crush into a coarse green paste. Add the olive oil, lemon zest and juice. Stir to combine.
Cook the peas in the boiling water for 2 to 3 minutes. Drain and quickly refresh under a cold running tap. Drain off excess water.
Arrange the salad leaves on a plate. Spoon the peas over the leaves. Place the burrata in the centre. Spoon the basil dressing over everything. Strew over some basil and serve immediately with some oiled and grilled sourdough bread.
Recipe & photographs: Huw Morgan
Published 27 July 2019
At the height of summer, when all you want to be eating are salad, peas, broad beans and cucumbers, it is easy to resent the space taken up by the winter vegetables. But the time spent sowing, weeding, hoeing and watering them through the hot months is amply repaid come this time of year. We have been eating beetroot, parsnips, turnips, swedes, celeriac and carrots for several months now and, together with our stored potatoes and onions and a wide assortment of brassicas, we have been almost self-sufficient for vegetables. The greengrocer only sees me if I need lemons, oranges or some of the more exotic fruits available at this time of year like pomegranates, persimmons or Seville oranges.
The brassicas and roots are our winter bounty but, although we have enjoyed the hearty roast vegetables and mash, there comes a point when we pine for a crunch and for fresh, clean flavours. Without a polytunnel or greenhouse winter salad hasn’t been possible here yet, and I refuse to buy tasteless bags of salad so we rely upon the radicchio and chicory that were sown last spring, eaten in the summer and then left in the ground. We always miss the chance to sow them for a winter harvest, but these rogues from the summer are hearting up now, and add to this salad of raw winter roots.
The freckled leaves of ‘Castelfranco’ make a pretty addition to the plate, but any of the more common dark red forms would provide a dramatic contrast. The wider a variety of shape and colour you can get in your selection of vegetables the more attractive the salad will look. Here I have used the striped beetroot ‘Chioggia’ and orange ‘Burpee’s Golden’. The varied colours of heritage carrots also add to an appealing mix.
The balance of sweet, savoury, earthy, bitter and peppery flavours provided by the vegetables selected here makes for a varied eating experience, but the salad could be made with any combination of three of the roots if you do not have access to them all. Thinly sliced fennel would also be a good addition and, although the frost has ravaged our winter crop of bulbs, the remaining foliage is still delicious for its aniseed flavour and addition of green. Radish, mooli or kohlrabi could also be substituted.
Seville oranges are just coming to the end of their season. When unavailable replace with a 50/50 mix of lemon and orange.
This salad is particularly good with roast chicken, roast pork, sliced ham or a cold chicken and ham pie.
Ingredients
SALAD
Juice of 1 lemon
2 medium carrots – different colours if possible
1 small parsnip
2 small beetroot – different colours if possible
½ small turnip
½ small swede
1 Cox’s apple
¼ medium celeriac
1 small head radicchio
2 tbsp finely chopped parsley
2 tbsp fresh fennel or dill herb fronds
DRESSING
50ml soured cream
1 egg yolk
2 tsp honey
1 tsp finely grated horseradish or English mustard
25ml rapeseed or other light oil
Juice of 1 Seville orange
Very finely grated zest ½ Seville orange
Salt
Some reserved fennel fronds
3 tbsp tablespoons pomegranate seeds
3 tbsp broken walnuts
Serves 6
Method
First prepare two bowls of iced water. Add the lemon juice to one of them.
Trim and peel the carrots and parsnip, then shave thin ribbons off the length of each with a vegetable peeler. Put them all into the bowl of plain iced water. If you are using dark red or purple carrots put them in a separate bowl of iced water.
Trim and peel the beetroot. Using a mandolin or very sharp knife slice as thinly as possible into rounds. Striped or pale coloured beetroot (orange, yellow or white) can be added to the water bowl containing the carrots and parsnip. Purple beetroot will need a separate bowl of iced water or can be added to that containing the purple or red carrots.
Peel the turnip and swede and grate coarsely.
Slice the apple as thinly as possible and put into the bowl of acidulated water.
Peel the celeriac. Cut into slices about a centimetre thick. Using a mandolin or very sharp knife slice as thinly as possible. Add to the bowl of acidulated water.
Remove the leaves from the radicchio and tear the soft part of the leaves away from the coarse ribs, which aren’t used. Tear the leaves into pieces roughly 4cm square.
To make the dressing put the egg yolk in a bowl, whisk with a fork, then add all of the other ingredients and whisk again until well combined. Taste for seasoning. You may need to add more honey, salt or horseradish to taste. The dressing needs to be fairly strongly seasoned as the flavour is diluted once mixed with the salad. Finally stir in the finely chopped parsley.
Heat a small heavy frying pan. Add the walnuts and allow to scorch on one side. Remove from the pan and allow to cool.
Drain the vegetables and apple and pat dry on a clean tea towel. Put in a large bowl. Keep the dark roots to one side. Add the radicchio and fennel fronds to the bowl. Using your hands toss the salad very gently to distribute the different vegetables evenly. Pour over two thirds of the dressing and use your hands again to gently mix the salad ensuring everything is well coated. Add more dressing if required, however the vegetables should just be lightly coated, not swimming. Now add the dark beetroot and carrots and toss the salad again very quickly to avoid turning the whole salad pink.
Transfer the salad to a serving plate or divide between individual plates. Spoon on a little more dressing then scatter over the pomegranate seeds, scorched walnuts and reserved fennel fronds.
Recipe & Photographs: Huw Morgan
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