Saturday, 30 May 2009

'Tis the season

Strawberry picking season, that is.

Yes, it's still a bit early but the sun and rain seem to have brought the crop on, on the South Coast at least. We smothered our pale skins in suncream yesterday and headed here along with hordes of other people, to gather more strawberries than we could eat. (And believe me, Tall Small and I can eat a LOT of strawberries.)

I remember picking strawberries when I was little - it's the first time the girls have been but they soon caught on, and were very selective about which fruits they put in their punnets. There's nothing like eating strawberries you've picked yourself, especially if they're still warm from the sun. On the allotment we've set up a little seating area right next to the strawberries and raspberries so we can do just that. Yum.

See what I mean about early season? A profusion of green berries, carrying the promise of a delicious summer harvest, but still we managed to collect more than enough for our tea.

Roll on summer - though now I'm thinking I need to net my own crop sharpish!!

Sunday, 17 May 2009

Humble pie

For years I've protested that I cannot stand rhubarb. I've tried (and failed) to eradicate it from more than one vegetable plot I've had. I've listed it alongside offal as the two things I won't eat when invited to dinner.

But, I'm willing to admit I was wrong. Oh so wrong.

Gina nearly won me over with cherry and rhubarb jam last year (who can resist toast and jam?), but the thing that's really done it for me is this cake - not pretty, but delicious.

It's a Nigella Domestic Goddess creation (of course), containing polenta and scary amounts of sugar, and made with a gift of rhubarb that I couldn't bring myself to throw away. Perhaps that's why the rhubarb lost its weird tasting edge and became just a lovely tartness. Mmmmmm.

Lots of rain this week, which is lovely for weeds and rhubarb alike. And alchemilla is just made for raindrops ...

Saturday, 9 May 2009

Explosion in a lilac factory

I have something of a love-hate relationship with our wisteria. It drops a frustratingly large volume of leaves on our little garden, it regularly breaks its restraining wires and it requires Mr DC to scale tall ladders for the twice yearly pruning.

But then, for 2 weeks every year it looks like this, and I am forced to forgive it all over again.

Can you smell it? One year a late frost destroyed all the flower buds - a very sad May indeed!

Saturday, 2 May 2009


6.30 pm

Messy kitchen.

Small child caught red handed on Mr DC's mobile phone.