October

I don’t know about you, but it does not feel like October here. It is unseasonably warm and I can tell from the weeds that the growing season is still very much with us. 

An aside. Did you watch the Gardeners’ World special on trees? They were talking about exactly this, that the growing reasons for trees is now longer and the resting/dormant season is now shorter and they are just suffering a little bit from overwork. Wherever you look, capitalism. 

I am taking things gently in this October. It is not yet bulb planting season, and many of my beds have now been cleared and mulched. There are a few tasks that, if you wish to, you can do. But apart from the bulbs, there is nothing much that can’t wait until March now. 

Sowing winter leaves under glass

I find just a few greens make all the difference in the world. I don’t like hot and spicy things so some of the more aggressive mustard greens are not for me, but pea tops. Who doesn’t like pea tops? I try and always have a pot on the go on the kitchen windowsill (not now obviously, the kitchen windowsill is shortly to go in a skip) and I have also made a big effort this year to put some plug plants into pots and troughs in the greenhouse. The ones I direct sowed in August and September just about survived the dogs lolling about on them, and then succumbed rather dramatically to slugs. 

Full disclaimer: this is Alison Jenkins’ glasshouse full of beautiful seedlings, not mine.

Leafmould

The leaves are not yet thick on the ground but the huge lime trees in front of the cottage are slowly starting to shed theirs. How do I know? They come blowing under the front door. Leafmould is like a biennial, it takes two years to be ready, so starting a new batch each year will still take a while before you have something useable.

We have a big cage made of chicken wire but there are easer options with old compost bags. Alys Fowler has instructions here. 

Planting out perennials

If your soil is still warm enough then getting plants into the ground is absolutely worth it. I find that they have just enough time to settle in before the big cold and then they will be ready to put on some amazing growth come spring. Naomi and I have just planted up two square beds by the entrance to the field. They are the first thing that is seen and I wanted tall, soft, meadowy planting, just hinting at the symmetry of flowers and vegetables behind. 

Some of the plants were grown from seed, including the ones I bought from Hauser and Wirth, some divided and dug out from other places in the field (including my very favourite Sanguisorba, and many were bought from Arvensis Perennials. 

It was carnage though. Everyone wanted to sit on the plants…

 The planting list now currently looks something like this:

Angelica sylvestris 'Vicar's Mead' 

Anemone x hyb. 'Robustissima'

Anemone hup. 'Hadspen Abundance' 

Anthriscus sylvestris 'Ravenswing' 

Echinacea purp. 'Magnus' 

Echinecea ‘Pallida’

Echinops ‘ritro’

Eupatorium dubium 'Baby Joe' 

Lysimachia clethroides 

Selinum wallichianum 

Molinia caerulea 'Edith Dudszus' 

Molinia caerulea 'Transparent'

Stipa tenuissima

I ordered the Baby Joe by accident and it is flowering beautifully on a stem of less than 10cm. Apparently it does get bigger. I really hope so. I will also be adding more grasses as time goes on, as well as possible some spring bulbs. I am debating teasels; I do love their silhouette but they do have an unfortunate connotation of wasteland and motorway verge in my mind now. I might put them somewhere else. 

Harvesting

In all senses of the word. It is a rare day when I don’t go and put some ripe sweet pea seed in a bowl, but it is often done when I make my evening foray out for chard or beetroot or some fennel tops. There are apples everywhere now (first crumble tonight) including in the bottom oven, drying for apple slices.

I would be doing more preserving if the kitchen wasn’t in pieces. I am going to miss my ketchup stash this winter, but I am going all out on an Anna Jones beetroot tart for supper tonight.  I did not grow nearly enough squash this year but I am going to crack open my first and make pumpkin soup.

Too soon for Nigel Slater’s Christmas spices soup?

Spiced pumpkin soup with bacon

serves 4, generously

1 medium onion
50g butter
2 plump cloves of garlic
900g pumpkin
1 tbs coriander seeds
2 tsp cumin seed
2 small dried chillies
1 litre chicken or vegetable stock
4 rashers smoked bacon
up to 100ml single cream

Peel and roughly chop the onion. Melt the butter in a large, heavy-based saucepan and cook the onion and the garlic, peeled and sliced, until soft and translucent. Meanwhile, peel the pumpkin, remove the stringy bits and seeds and discard them. Chop into rough cubes and add to the onions. Cook until the pumpkin is golden brown at the edges. 

Toast the coriander seeds and cumin in a small pan over a low heat until they start to smell warm and nutty - about two minutes. Grind the roasted spices in a coffee mill or using a pestle and mortar, keeping the pan to one side for later. Add the spices and the chillies to the onions and pumpkin. Cook for a minute or so then add the stock. Leave to simmer for 20 minutes or so until the pumpkin is tender. 

Fry the bacon in the pan in which you toasted the spices. It should be crisp. Cool a little then cut up with scissors into small pieces. Whizz the soup in a blender or food processor till smooth. Pour in the cream and taste for seasoning, adding salt and pepper as necessary. Return to the pan, bring almost to the boil and then serve, piping hot, with the bacon bits scattered on top.