pickle

Today has been about assessing wind damage. The teasels, sunflowers and chrysanthemums all came a cropper at the weekend, the heavy stems keeling over horizontally in the strong wind. Inevitably the flowers then turned their heads towards the sun, meaning the stems are now bent at right-angles – not a great look for cut-flowers. The colour palette is gradually changing now as we head into late summer, with the first dahlias and sunflowers coming through, and the feathery spider chrysanthemums looking promising.

Attention is moving to the late summer crops now – cosmos, sunflower, chrysanthemums and squash

This is such a strange year for growing. It’s mid-August and the broad beans are only now coming into their own – today I picked a load to have alongside the first courgette. The first courgette, and it’s 9th August! Last week I planted out tiny savoy cabbage and kohl rabi seedlings for a winter harvest, mainly in hope rather than expectation.

Tiny little savoy cabbage seedling plated out amongst the nasturtiums and broad beans

I’ve been picking flowers for drying as well as for the vase. Tansy, cornflowers, poppy heads and teasels are sure-fire winners. I do not hold much hope for dried marigolds but I think it’s worth a go to see how they fare. The strawflowers – backbone of winter dried flower arrangements – are not looking hopeful, however. They languished in the cold-frame for weeks (I had to re-sow a few times due to slug damage) and therefore got planted out late, just a week or two ago. In my experience it’s the late summer to autumn plants that really thrive on our plot so there is still a chance, but we’ll need the weather to be kind (sunny, warm) for a crop.

Flowers for drying: cornflowers, poppy heads, tansy, marigolds, teasels

The frothy romantic vases of cosmos, cornflower and achillea are still coming, now dotted with early white pompom dahlias

Whilst I am harvesting, there has not been so much of the epic afternoons of fruit and veg prep as usual. Just one big bowl of blackcurrants to be topped and tailed, and beans in dribs-and-drabs to pod. The blueberries are now cropping, plus a few errant blackberries that survived the winter weed, and the raspberries still a few weeks away.

Even in late July and August we’re still podding broad beans. Blackcurrants are finished now but the blueberries and blackberries have begun.

Produce processing is a summer chore that is also a joy. Chore because the task HAS to be done regardless of how much other work is in the way….but a joy because there is the chance to properly engage with what we’ve grown, be present in the moment and in the season. Soft fruit, green leafy veg and tomatoes are the usual time-takers, but this year I added a new one to the list: nasturtium pods.

Nasturtiums run rampant across our plot, all self-seeding after just one sowing years back. I do use the flowers and leaves in salads but mainly they’re there for the bees. Allotment neighbour Susan asked me the other day if I ever pickle the pods for poor-man capers, and the honest answer was Nope, I have never done this. Until now.

Pickled caper pods whisper to me of times past. They are product of the pottager and cottage garden; I can easily imagine them on an Elizabethan table as on a trendy salad in 2021. I have never eaten them but am drawn to the idea of an English, home-grown alternative to the caper. Here’s what you do – I can’t comment on the outcome as yet but will report back in November.

Pickled Nasturtium Pods (poor-man’s capers)

For one jar of pods, harvest about 100g of nasturtium pods. These are the seed pods of the nasturtium which swell and ripen once the flower has gone over. Pick them over for stems and errant leaves, then give them a good rinse under the cold tap.

Pick over nasturtium pods to remove stems and dirt, then rinse under the cold tap

Put the pods into a dish with 15g salt and 300ml water. Put the lid on then leave in the fridge in a day or two. The salting process helps to mellow the flavour of the final pickle.

Leave them in a water-salt solution for a few days

When you’re ready to finish the pickle, clean and sterilise a glass jar and lid. Rinse the nasturtium pods and dry them well on kitchen paper. Pop the pods into the jar with a pinch of herbs and spices (I used 1 tsp coriander seeds and two bayleaves). Black peppercorns, dill and white mustard seeds would all be good. If you like a slightly sweeter pickle add 1 tsp sugar. Then fill the jar with white wine vinegar until it reaches the very top, about 200ml.

Rinse and dry, then bottle up with white wine vinegar, herbs, spices and maybe a touch of sugar

Pop the lid on then leave to pickle and mature for at least one month before eating.

Bottled nasturtium pods. Leave for a few months to mellow before eating.

Once mature, the pickled pods can be used in place of capers – in salads, on pizzas and with cheese.

Also this week:
Harvesting: Cornflowers, cosmos, tansy, last ammi majus, marigolds, dahlias, first sunflowers, teasels, achillea, last lavender, first courgette (FINALLY), nasturtium pods, wild rocket, a tiny handful of climbing beans, broad beans, chard, blueberries, first blackberries, last gooseberries. Could be harvesting kale and cavolo nero but leaving them for a little while longer. Every trip to Grove House leads to a bootful of beetroot, potatoes, stick beans, carrots and more blueberries.
Also: Pulled up lettuce and peas. Planted out strawflowers, lupins, delphiniums. Sowed beet spinach, salad rocket, quatre saison lettuce and mustard leaves.
Cooking: The weather has turned rainy with a chill in the air, so roast pork belly it is. Mousakka with summer squash instead of aubergine. Chocolate roulade with strawberries.
Also: Trip to Liverpool for work, the joy of a cappuccino in a new city. Inspiration for new shades of achillea and echinops at Highbury Hall.

We snuck away for a late summer holiday last weekend, albeit one that felt distinctly autumnal. The Lake District in September lies on the cusp of the seasonal turn, with golden bracken, reddening leaves and low afternoon sun. We had a day of culture in the brilliant Blackwell Arts & Crafts house, then a day of fresh air in the Borrowdale valley. Matt was transfixed by agile fleet-footed fell runners…and I reflected that love makes you do strange things (a few years ago I never would have gone out of my way to watch a running race).

Fell-racing in Borrowdale

Sheep amidst an abandoned mine building

Water heads down the fell

I am grateful for the newly chilly days. It’s not cold as such, but the dreadful heaviness of August has been replaced with a more sprightly energy. On the allotment, the courgette glut has slowed down and the tomatoes are pretty much over, though there’s no end in sight to the late summer blooms.

In this September is-it-summer-or-is-it-autumn period, cooks and gardeners traditionally get down to pickling, chutneying and jamming, an activity that does indeed deal with the immediate problem of gluts – except that, in our house, we struggle to make a dent on even a few jars of preserves. I have several pints of ‘glutney’ from several years ago gathering dust in the bottom cupboard; they’ve now moved house twice. Undeterred, I still rustle up a few jars every year, transfixed by the knowledge that veg/fruit + sugar + vinegar = longlife food.

Anyone who eats out regularly knows that there’s a new fashion for pickles, inspired by the Scandi food craze. The fresh crunch of raw, pickled vegetable is everywhere, from a gherkin on your dirty burger to the chili-spiked carrot that adorned the pastrami bagel I enjoyed in Rotterdam back in May. Pickles are so much easier than chutneys or jams – there’s no boiling or finding setting points, it’s merely a question of brining some veg, making a vinegar-sugar pickling liquor, adding one to the other and hey presto, job done.

So when the courgettes were in full glut mode a few weeks back, I got busy making this fennel, lemon and chilli scented pickle. First I cleaned and sterilised my Kilner jars by washing in soapy water, rinsing, then putting them in a hot oven (200c) for 20 minutes. In the meantime, I chopped courgettes into batons, tossed them in salt and left them to drain for two hours.

Take courgettes and a jar…

Salt the courgette batons and leave to drain

Loads of water comes out of the courgettes, meaning that the end pickle has a pleasing crunch. The salt also begins the preserving process on the veg.

Alot of liquid will seep out…

The courgettes were then rinsed and drained on kitchen paper to remove any excess water.

Rinse and drain the courgettes

Now for the fun bit: the liquor, which both preserves and flavours the pickle. I used white wine vinegar, sugar (not shown), fennel seeds, lemon juice and peel, garlic and a red chilli.

White wine vinegar, fennel seeds, red chilli, garlic and lemon

Simply heat the sugar, vinegar and lemon juice until just boiling, so that the sugar dissolves.

Heat the vinegar, lemon juice and sugar

In the meantime, push the courgettes into the jar along with the fennel seeds, lemon peel, whole garlic (no need to peel) and the whole chilli. The hot liquor is poured over the top, pop the lid on and that’s it! The pickle cools in the jar and is then stored for a month or two to soften the vinegar flavour. I’ll report back in a few weeks as to if it’s any good or not…

Pour the hot liquor onto the courgettes along with the fennel, garlic and lemon peel, then leave to cool

Courgette, fennel and lemon pickle

500g or thereabouts small courgettes

25g sea salt

250ml white wine vinegar

65g granulated sugar

1 red chilli (or more if you like it hot)

1 unwaxed lemon, juice and pared peel

1 tbsp fennel seeds

3 garlic cloves, unpeeled

1 or 2 Kilner jars or jam jars

First prep your Kilner jars: wash them thoroughly, rinse, then put into a hot oven for 200c for about 20 minutes.

Trim the courgettes and chop into sizeable batons. Toss them in the salt and leave to drain in a colander for at least two hours. Rinse under the cold tap then drain on kitchen paper.

In a small pan, heat the sugar, lemon juice and vinegar until the sugar has dissolved and it is just boiling. Remove from the heat. Layer the courgettes in your jar(s) with the fennel seeds, garlic, lemon peel and chilli. Pour the hot liquor over the top to cover the veg. Give the jar a tap to get rid of any air bubbles, put the lid on and leave to cool.

Leave for at least a month in a dark place before eating. Will last for months.

Notes from the Veg Patch

Pickled nasturtium pods

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Courgette, fennel and lemon pickle

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