I feel as though I have to start this post with a grovelling apology.
The last two weeks some how became excessively jam-packed with either work related problems or food related issues (that have all been self induced). From deciding to have two dinner parties on consecutive Saturday nights, each of which were personalised by the type of guests that I had invited i.e. fussy/non fussy (you know who you are) to taking on the task of creating an elaborate Christening cake for my sister-in-law (bearing in mind that I only really 'play' at decorating cakes) thus being the reasons for my lack of posts (all of which will be blogged about this week).
I hate having to rush writing this blog in case the quality of the posts diminishes, I gladly take my hat off to other bloggers who manage to frequently deliver quality reading when they have got children (I have none, but R and the animals can be demanding at times), a full time job (I'm self employed) and all of the other important stuff that has to be done on a daily basis. I also am finding it extremely difficult to shake off the guilty feeling that lingers over me every time I sit down to write. Being an active person I can feel incredibly lazy sitting down and writing for an hour in the middle of the day when I could be gardening and going for a ride on my oh-so-precious bike. Perhaps I need to learn how to stop waffling on for so long and keep my posts a bit shorter!
Anyway, you're not here to listen to me moan about my personal issues. I've only mentioned my vegetable patch briefly in the past and I've never took the time to fully explain my long-lasting love/hate relationship with it.
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R and I decided to start growing vegetables the first year we had moved in, around four years ago. Having moved on Christmas Eve we were able to prepare the carefully picked plot over the start of the year so it would be ready as soon as spring was eagerly trying to sneak its way in after the harsh freezing winter we had endured. As you can tell from the picture R does not like to do things by half and, having absolutely no vegetable growing experience myself and R only having picked up a few tips from his keen gardening granddad, you would have thought that I would have felt totally overwhelmed by the football pitch-sized plot R had turned over with his tractor and plough, I was obviously very, very naive and had no idea what gardening workload was about to unfold.
As I expect most people would do, R and I went completely overboard on the number of seeds we had planted in our green house. We had carrots, courgettes, peas, broad beans, sweetcorn and lettuce but to name a few. I think it was sheer excitement that took over us knowing that we could just pop into the garden which would be abundant with county show-standard glowing veg and pick an armful of fresh ingredients to use for our tea. Somehow in my idealistic vision I had managed to miss out the constant weeding that was to take over my life, the copious amount of rabbits, slugs and caterpillars that would ruin my crops and the fact that sometimes things don't always happen as they appear to in the vast amount of veg growing books I own - they fail to mention all of the nasty unpredictable bits in between.
That year I think we just about came away with a decent crop of potatoes (most of which had to have the blight chipped away before cooking them). Having a patch such as our own is completely different to having those sweet looking veg boxes that are all the rage. Once our soil has been turned over to create a gluttonous, rich black substance it can take no more than a few hours for those horrid little weeds to start rearing there ugly heads. They try to swarm and encase my precious plants, smothering them until they can no longer see any light. Every morning I obsessively walk up and down the regimental rows of vegetables with my garden hoe ready to pounce on any that have appeared overnight. This becomes a slight issue if I'm due to go away as I start to panic that I will return to a jungle of weeds. Is it wrong to not only ask my parents to take care of our menagerie of animals but to weed my garden daily as well? (I don't think its a big ask, I'm sure they enjoy it really.)
The other ongoing battle I have is with rabbits. I like rabbits, I really do, but to see them destroy many weeks worth of slow growing seedlings and baby plants, it's hard not to fly into rabbit-fueled rage. Why do they have to eat my lettuce and my beetroot tops? Why can't they be happy with field of lush grass next to my plot or, if they fancied a change, they could always try the weeds that like to nestle so gently in between my baby gems. At times when I feel at my most horrid towards these fluffy creatures I try to recall one of my favourite Beatrix Potter tales in which Peter Rabbit so cleverly manages to escape the clutches of the nasty Mr McGregor. I remember thinking what a horrible man he was, chasing away a poor defenseless little rabbit and now I fear I have turned into the villain of that popular children's tale (minus the beard).
The only way we have found to best keep the rabbits at bay is with a low electric fence which R assures me only gives off a slight pinprick of a shock, although to hear the load click of the fence energiser you'd think it was powering an electric chair. In any case my plants are eventually beginning to grow and I am able to plant out new crops without the risk of them being nibbled at and there hasn't been a frazzled rabbit in sight.
The recipe I'm going to give you today is one that is totally inspired by my veg patch and you can mix and match the ingredients accordingly to whatever you've got in. I'd love to tell you that all the ingredients came from out of my garden, but I would be lying. I see it as as a sneak peak into my future growing plans now that I have managed to stop Peter Rabbit and his friends destroying all of my hard work.
Tomato, Borlotti bean and Veg Soup.
1 can of good plum tomatoes or 5 fresh tomatoes
1 can of Borlotti beans
2 sticks of celery, diced
2 carrots, diced
1 red onion
1 clove of garlic, chopped
A quarter of spring cabbage, sliced
Fresh herbs e.g basil, parsley oregano - whatever you've got to hand
500ml of good veg stock
Any veg you've got left over
1 Tbls tomato puree
salt, pepper, sugar.
Basil Pesto
Large handful of fresh basil
Half a clove of garlic
Extra virgin olive oil
Salt
Pepper
Parmesan cheese
6 or 7 pine nuts.
Put a few glugs of olive oil into a pan on a low heat, remove the basil leaves from to stalks and reserve to one one side for later. Finely chop the basil stalks and add to the pan with the chopped garlic and the chopped onion.
Then add the carrots and the celery, put the lid on the pan and allow to sweat for a few minutes, checking every now and again to make sure it's not sticking to the bottom of the pan,
Stir in the tomato puree then add the veg stock, tomatoes, beans and a pinch of salt. sugar and pepper, bring to a boil then allow to simmer on a low heat for around half an hour.
Add the chopped spring cabbage and the rest of the herbs and leave for about ten minutes until the cabbage is cooked through.
For the basil pesto - Grind the basil leaves up in a pestle and mortar and grate in the half a clove of garlic.
Add the pine nuts, a small pinch of salt and pepper and grind again to make a paste.
Grate in some Parmesan and start to add the olive oil just so the paste becomes a drizzling consistency.
Taste to check the seasoning.
Once you have spooned your soup into some bowls, finish off with a big drizzle of the basil pesto and a final grating of Parmesan.
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The last two weeks some how became excessively jam-packed with either work related problems or food related issues (that have all been self induced). From deciding to have two dinner parties on consecutive Saturday nights, each of which were personalised by the type of guests that I had invited i.e. fussy/non fussy (you know who you are) to taking on the task of creating an elaborate Christening cake for my sister-in-law (bearing in mind that I only really 'play' at decorating cakes) thus being the reasons for my lack of posts (all of which will be blogged about this week).
I hate having to rush writing this blog in case the quality of the posts diminishes, I gladly take my hat off to other bloggers who manage to frequently deliver quality reading when they have got children (I have none, but R and the animals can be demanding at times), a full time job (I'm self employed) and all of the other important stuff that has to be done on a daily basis. I also am finding it extremely difficult to shake off the guilty feeling that lingers over me every time I sit down to write. Being an active person I can feel incredibly lazy sitting down and writing for an hour in the middle of the day when I could be gardening and going for a ride on my oh-so-precious bike. Perhaps I need to learn how to stop waffling on for so long and keep my posts a bit shorter!
Anyway, you're not here to listen to me moan about my personal issues. I've only mentioned my vegetable patch briefly in the past and I've never took the time to fully explain my long-lasting love/hate relationship with it.
As I expect most people would do, R and I went completely overboard on the number of seeds we had planted in our green house. We had carrots, courgettes, peas, broad beans, sweetcorn and lettuce but to name a few. I think it was sheer excitement that took over us knowing that we could just pop into the garden which would be abundant with county show-standard glowing veg and pick an armful of fresh ingredients to use for our tea. Somehow in my idealistic vision I had managed to miss out the constant weeding that was to take over my life, the copious amount of rabbits, slugs and caterpillars that would ruin my crops and the fact that sometimes things don't always happen as they appear to in the vast amount of veg growing books I own - they fail to mention all of the nasty unpredictable bits in between.
That year I think we just about came away with a decent crop of potatoes (most of which had to have the blight chipped away before cooking them). Having a patch such as our own is completely different to having those sweet looking veg boxes that are all the rage. Once our soil has been turned over to create a gluttonous, rich black substance it can take no more than a few hours for those horrid little weeds to start rearing there ugly heads. They try to swarm and encase my precious plants, smothering them until they can no longer see any light. Every morning I obsessively walk up and down the regimental rows of vegetables with my garden hoe ready to pounce on any that have appeared overnight. This becomes a slight issue if I'm due to go away as I start to panic that I will return to a jungle of weeds. Is it wrong to not only ask my parents to take care of our menagerie of animals but to weed my garden daily as well? (I don't think its a big ask, I'm sure they enjoy it really.)
The other ongoing battle I have is with rabbits. I like rabbits, I really do, but to see them destroy many weeks worth of slow growing seedlings and baby plants, it's hard not to fly into rabbit-fueled rage. Why do they have to eat my lettuce and my beetroot tops? Why can't they be happy with field of lush grass next to my plot or, if they fancied a change, they could always try the weeds that like to nestle so gently in between my baby gems. At times when I feel at my most horrid towards these fluffy creatures I try to recall one of my favourite Beatrix Potter tales in which Peter Rabbit so cleverly manages to escape the clutches of the nasty Mr McGregor. I remember thinking what a horrible man he was, chasing away a poor defenseless little rabbit and now I fear I have turned into the villain of that popular children's tale (minus the beard).
The only way we have found to best keep the rabbits at bay is with a low electric fence which R assures me only gives off a slight pinprick of a shock, although to hear the load click of the fence energiser you'd think it was powering an electric chair. In any case my plants are eventually beginning to grow and I am able to plant out new crops without the risk of them being nibbled at and there hasn't been a frazzled rabbit in sight.
The recipe I'm going to give you today is one that is totally inspired by my veg patch and you can mix and match the ingredients accordingly to whatever you've got in. I'd love to tell you that all the ingredients came from out of my garden, but I would be lying. I see it as as a sneak peak into my future growing plans now that I have managed to stop Peter Rabbit and his friends destroying all of my hard work.
Tomato, Borlotti bean and Veg Soup.
1 can of good plum tomatoes or 5 fresh tomatoes
1 can of Borlotti beans
2 sticks of celery, diced
2 carrots, diced
1 red onion
1 clove of garlic, chopped
A quarter of spring cabbage, sliced
Fresh herbs e.g basil, parsley oregano - whatever you've got to hand
500ml of good veg stock
Any veg you've got left over
1 Tbls tomato puree
salt, pepper, sugar.
Basil Pesto
Large handful of fresh basil
Half a clove of garlic
Extra virgin olive oil
Salt
Pepper
Parmesan cheese
6 or 7 pine nuts.
Put a few glugs of olive oil into a pan on a low heat, remove the basil leaves from to stalks and reserve to one one side for later. Finely chop the basil stalks and add to the pan with the chopped garlic and the chopped onion.
Then add the carrots and the celery, put the lid on the pan and allow to sweat for a few minutes, checking every now and again to make sure it's not sticking to the bottom of the pan,
Stir in the tomato puree then add the veg stock, tomatoes, beans and a pinch of salt. sugar and pepper, bring to a boil then allow to simmer on a low heat for around half an hour.
Add the chopped spring cabbage and the rest of the herbs and leave for about ten minutes until the cabbage is cooked through.
For the basil pesto - Grind the basil leaves up in a pestle and mortar and grate in the half a clove of garlic.
Add the pine nuts, a small pinch of salt and pepper and grind again to make a paste.
Grate in some Parmesan and start to add the olive oil just so the paste becomes a drizzling consistency.
Taste to check the seasoning.
Once you have spooned your soup into some bowls, finish off with a big drizzle of the basil pesto and a final grating of Parmesan.
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