Tag Archives: Gin

Ready, Steady, Grow!

Elderflower blossom

A wet week and a busy social weekend over Father’s Day saw me dodging the showers and downpours in a desperate bid to finish planting out my summer veg and flowers at the allotment, later than I’ve ever done it before. It seems to be one of those rules that when work is on the quiet side, the weather refuses to play ball, so you can’t get outside and make the most of the extra free time. I did, however, manage to find a dry (and blustery) day to pick some elderflowers at last for my annual cordial making ritual. I even picked more than enough for a change, so decided to experiment with some of the week’s crop of gooseberries and make gooseberry & elderflower gin. I enjoyed last year’s rhubarb gin so much – my favourite drink of last summer – that if the gooseberry & elderflower is half as nice, it will still be eminently drinkable. Like last year, I used Aldi’s Oliver Cromwell London Gin, which gets excellent reviews.

Gooseberry & Elderflower Gin

Gooseberry and elderflower gin

1 litre gin
500g gooseberries
strips of orange rind, peeled thinly from 1 orange using a vegetable peeler
250g granulated sugar
6-8 elderflower heads

Top and tail the gooseberries, then cut in half and place in a large 2 litre Kilner jar. Add the granulated sugar, orange rind and elderflower heads. Put on the lid and shake the jar well. Leave to stand in a cool, dark place for at least 6 weeks, then strain into another bottle. Serve with ice, tonic and lime for a refreshing take on the ubiquitous G&T.

But back to my allotment: after working in my garden at home last weekend, I was determined to finish sowing my French beans and planting out my squash this weekend. Sunday was dedicated to a family lunch for Father’s Day, so that left Saturday afternoon. It had looked promising weatherwise, but the skies were looking very ominous when I headed up there after lunch. The rain held off for the first couple of hours, giving me time to prepare the beds (more bags of manure!), erect the wigwam bean structure, sow the beans (Cosse Violette and Neckarkönigin this year), and plant out the Crown Prince squash. I also took out the last remaining purple-sprouting broccoli plants, long since gone to seed, and did some essential weeding. So far, so good.

Netting the soft fruit was my next priority: the fattest pigeons in the village have already made inroads into my redcurrants, despite them still being green, so I was keen to net them before I lost the lot! Having unearthed last year’s net from the darkest corner of the shed, I managed to cover the bed, gooseberries and blackcurrants included, without too much ado and only needed one peg to seal the inevitable hole. Fingers crossed that this keeps the birds out and the fruit in…

My final job of the afternoon was potentially the most time-consuming and typically the rainclouds were gathering by this stage. No matter, I was determined to complete my list! Bit firmly between my teeth, I set about the task of removing the weedproof membrane from the final stretch of the newly reclaimed flower beds at the top end of the plot, and digging over the soil to remove any stubborn traces of perennial roots, and especially couch grass and the dreaded bindweed. Inevitably, that took longer than I’d have liked, so by the time I was ready to apply another two sacks of farmyard manure, the drizzle was coming down quite steadily.

Undeterred, I carried on, planting my six new dahlias: Penhill Dark Monarch, Emory Paul, Perch Hill, Rip City and Café au Lait Royal, all from Sarah Raven, and Marble Ball, a purple-speckled variety I picked up for 50p at my local garden centre a few weeks ago – who could resist?! The same garden centre’s discount bin also had some striking purple and cream gladioli Dynamite – they were clearly selling off all their bulbs and tubers at the end of the planting season, but definitely not too late to plant out! In too went another dwarf mulberry tree (Charlotte Russe) to match its twin planted a few weeks ago, a large helianthus Lemon Queen picked up at a plant stall near my parents’ house in Copthorne, and a peony I’d moved from the garden at home where it steadfastly refuses to flower and clearly doesn’t get enough sun. A couple of chrysanthemums I’d ensnared at the village Open Gardens day also went in; the pink variety I acquired from the same source last year had come through the winter, somewhat to my surprise, and had been great for later autumn flowers, even after the dahlias had stopped.  I also planted out some seed-sown Antirrhinum Royal Bride to accompany the Callistephus chinensis King Size Apricot (Chinese aster) I planted a few weeks ago and the zinnias I sowed direct one evening (Mazurkia, Purple Prince and Envy). They could do with some more warmth to take off properly, but fingers crossed the slugs don’t get them first…

Allotment top end, Leo and the new beds

A couple of spare squashes and an unknown cucurbit seedling that had appeared in the garden compost distributed around my roses completed my afternoon’s work. This will be a bonus plant – could be a melon, cucumber, squash or courgette – who knows?! If it survives, I’ll be sure to let you know :-). By this time the rain was coming down in stair rods and I resembled a drowned (but satisfied) rat.

New bed unknown curcurbit on frame

Just some harvesting to do before I could escape from the rain – my parents were coming for dinner to stay the night before we drove together to my son’s the next day. Asparagus, broad beans, dill, lettuce, strawberries and another kilo of gooseberries later, I was done. Four hours of very hard and soggy work, but at least I’d accomplished what I’d set out to achieve.

My parents had already arrived and let themselves in when I finally got home, dripping, exhausted, but happy. And my mother’s voice as I opened the kitchen door, saying “I’ve just made a pot of tea”, was balm to my gardener’s soul and just what I wanted to hear. You can’t beat a nice cup of tea after a long session at the plot…

New bed delphiniums

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Not enough hours in the day!

Sissinghurst house June 2018

I’m only too aware that it’s been ages since I posted here: I can only claim busy social weekends, work events, pressures of work, and not enough hours in the day to do everything else! Plus the hot weather over the past couple of weeks (not that I’m complaining, honest!), means that watering becomes a daily requirement not only at home, but also down at the allotment, especially for relatively new plantings. Then the prolonged warm spell has brought all the soft fruit to fruition at once, so harvesting is also in full swing  and a huge harvest at that! A few extra hours each day really wouldn’t go amiss…

So what’s been happening on the plot? Well, May/June are always the busiest months for gardeners, so going out to Berlin for a translation workshop at the end of May, lovely though it was, was bound to put a spanner in the gardening works! Spring containers at home have had to be planted up with their summer contents (begonias and lobelia as ever, although very slow to get going this year), tomatoes had to be planted outside (and are now going great guns), and beans, courgettes, squashes and sweetcorn had to be planted out at the allotment. Today I finally managed to plant out my leeks, several weeks later than usual, but there just hasn’t been time before – hen party at a retro ice cream parlour in Broadstairs for my soon-to-be-daughter-in-law last weekend, plus a visit to nearly Sissinghurst (white garden at the peak of its glory – always a good time to visit), and up to London the weekend before for another translation event. Anyway, the leeks are finally in situ, so it just remains for me to water them very well for the next few weeks while they get established, especially if this heat persists.

My allotment neighbour has had a very late delivery of spent mushroom compost, so I transferred six barrowloads up to my plot to replenish the soil in some of the beds. Not easy with everything planted, but I focussed on the peas and beans, which didn’t get their annual manure fix this year, as we had hoped the mushroom compost would arrive earlier. I also topped up the asparagus bed, as it is a hungry feeder and the asparagus has finished cropping for the season now – some extra nutrients should build the ferns up nicely over the summer. Probably not the best thing for my knee, but hey ho, needs must!

Everything is coming on apace, apart from my French beans, which are stubbornly refusing to germinate. I can only imagine it’s too hot for them – or the seed is too old. I’ve planted more this evening, so fingers crossed. Sweet peas too are ridiculously slow this year, but finally look as though they’re starting to get going. My allotment neighbour on the other side has masses, so kindly said I could help myself – so lovely to have fragrant sweet peas in the house again. With any luck I can return the favour in late summer when mine are in full bloom…

In other news, the rhubarb gin is ready after its month’s infusing – and very good it is too! I’m very impressed: it makes a delicately pink-tinged long drink with tonic, ice and a sprig of rosemary if you feel so inclined. You can really taste the rhubarb, with just a slight kick of ginger. Definitely my favourite drink of the summer so far!

Rhubarb gin finished product

I’ve also made two batches of elderflower cordial and ventured into rhubarb & ginger cordial production too. Also very good. I couldn’t find one recipe online that really appealed, so adapted several, including one from Sarah Raven, and one from Saga. Take your pick! Again, a gorgeous colour, even from garden rhubarb rather than the vivid (although in my view not as tasty!) forced stuff. Here is the result:

Rhubarb & Ginger Cordial – makes approx. 1.5 litres

Rhubarb and ginger cordiaal

1,750 g rhubarb, chopped into chunks (no need to peel)
750 g granulated sugar (or to taste)
1 litre water
1 orange
1 lemon
1 tbsp citric acid
1 knob of root ginger (about 5 cm)

Place the chopped rhubarb in a large preserving pan with the root ginger, also roughly chopped, and the juice and rind of the orange and lemon. Cover with water and bring to the boil, then simmer gently until the fruit is soft and pulpy – about half an hour. Leave to cool for an hour or so.

When cool, pour into a jelly bag suspended over a large bowl or jug, and allow to drip through overnight. Don’t press, as it will make the cordial cloudy. Discard (or compost) the rhubarb pulp.

Straining rhubarb cordial

The next day, place the resulting juice into the preserving pan again and add 750g granulated sugar (or to taste). Bring to the boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Finally add 1 tbsp citric acid; you can omit this, but it will help to preserve the cordial for longer. It should keep for several months in a cool, dark place, but refrigerate once opened.

Pour into sterilised bottles and serve with sparkling water or soda for a refreshing summer drink.

 

 

Scaling the rhubarb mountain…

Alliums and tulips

It’s at this time of year that the rhubarb goes into overdrive: sunshine one minute, heavy showers the next – perfect growing weather! Despite cutting back my rhubarb bed when I downsized from a full allotment to three-quarters, the two smaller beds I created seemed to have expanded beyond all expectations. Every time I go up, I cut armfuls of strong stems, but it still looks just as abundant the next time I arrive. I give lots away, of course: I sent my son and his fiancée home with loads this weekend, and thrust yet more at my mum when we called in for lunch on Sunday. I even took some up to a friend in Cheshire when I went to my goddaughter’s wedding over the beautiful May Day holiday weekend.

Needless to say my menus feature rhubarb pretty intensively at the moment: roasted rhubarb & orange compote with homemade granola and natural yogurt is my breakfast of choice. You can’t beat a good old-fashioned rhubarb crumble or a traditional rhubarb pie with its mandatory (and delicious) soggy bottom either. Sometimes, however, you fancy a change, and I recently revisited a recipe from one of my first ever cookbooks, Jocasta Innes “Pauper’s Cookbook” from my student days, still my original dog-eared, much bespattered paperback version from the 1970s. The original recipe calls itself a rhubarb pie, but to my mind a pie has to have a top, whereas this is more of a tart with just a pastry base. It’s delicious, whatever you call it, and reminded me almost of the delicious Rhabarberwähen I sampled in Basel during my year abroad – heaven on a plate! I must track down a Swiss recipe for one of those too…. In the meantime, here’s my take on an open rhubarb tart. I often make enough pastry to make a spare case; they keep for a good couple of weeks in a tin in a cool place.

Rhubarb & Cinnamon Tart – serves 6

Rhubarb tart

1 part-baked 24cm shortcrust pastry case (see this recipe or use your own)
750g rhubarb, chopped
1 lemon, grated rind and juice
150g brown sugar
1 heaped tbsp cornflour
1 tsp cinnamon

Mix the sugar, grated lemon rind and juice, cinnamon and cornflour in a bowl and sprinkle half this mixture over the bottom of the tart case, top with the chopped rhubarb, then sprinkle the rest of the sugar mixture on top. Bake at 200°C, Gas 6 for 45 minutes to 1 hour, or until the rhubarb is tender. Cover with foil if it starts to get too brown at the edges. Serve just warm or cold with whipped cream or crème fraiche.

A chance conversation on Facebook led to my next rhubarb solution: rhubarb & ginger gin. I’ve yet to taste the results, of course, as it will have to steep for a month before it’s ready, but I can’t see why it shouldn’t taste divine: rhubarb, ginger, gin & tonic – what’s not to like? I’ll let you know in a month’s time whether it’s as good as it sounds – fingers crossed! Sarah Raven’s recipe for rhubarb & ginger vodka appealed most after my online searches, adapted for gin and tweaked to fit my 2 litre Kilner jar. I used Aldi’s Oliver Cromwell London Gin, which gets excellent reviews and won a gold medal in the International Wine and Spirits Competition earlier this year.

Rhubarb & Ginger Gin

Rhubarb and ginger gin

800g rhubarb, chopped into small chunks
1 litre gin
400g granulated sugar
5cm piece root ginger, peeled and sliced
thin strips of orange peel from 1 orange
1 vanilla pod

Put the rhubarb, sugar, ginger, orange peel and vanilla pod into a 2-litre Kilner jar and pour over the gin to cover completely. You probably won’t need it all; I reckon I used about 900 ml. Shake vigorously, then put in a cool place for 1 month, shaking every day to dissolve the sugar.

After 1 month, strain into a jug and decant into bottles. Serve with tonic and ice for a perfectly pink long drink for the summer months. Roll on June!

Garden flowers with alliums and tulips
Tulips and alliums from the garden