The Good Life - Operation weed removal

The plot just prior to the deluge on the June Bank Holiday

The Good Life - Harvest on the 6th June

Freshly uprooted white and red radish

The last three weeks have proved to be a period of prodigious growth in the allotment. Along with the growth of the vegetables we have also had to deal with the unwelcome advances made by weeds, which have become rampant in places. While we have been able to take small amounts of produce from the allotment over the last few weeks when thinning some of the early growth, this weekend the strong period of growth has enabled us to take a good variety of produce for the table. Lettuce, mustard leaf and radish crops are thriving at the moment along with the sorrel, perennial spinach and chard. A good salad now accompanies every meal and Corinne has served up nice dishes of chard gratinee.

Elsewhere in the allotment the turnips and beetroots have been transplanted and are growing well. Harry has also transferred his sweet corn from the glass house to the plot and lines of cabbages are appearing in the beds where available space remains.

Signs of plunder in my lettuce bed

The weather has been warm over the last few weeks accompanied and complimented by scattered showers. The Entry into summer has been sudden and the remnants of a cold winter and spring have not completely been left behind. We are still nervous about planting the patission, butternut squash and pumpkin which could be easily damaged by a cold snap. There is a change in the weather forecast over the next week and the weather is expected to become cooler once again. Caution prevails.

Dappled high cloud in the evening sky during the week

The Good Life - St George's mushroom

A small panier of St George's Mushrooms

“Les Champignons dans la Nature” by J. Jaccottet [Neuchatel, 1925] opens with the following line: “L’Homme a eté creé pour la marche….” which simply translated means “Man was created for walking”. The improvements in transport noted then in 1925, which he lists as including electric trams and bicycles, reduced ones desire for walking and therefore ability to access the countryside and forests. For one who enjoyed nature as much as Mr Jaccottet, the day was always too short, the sun rose too late and set too early.

Anybody who has done some mushroom hunting will appreciate the fact that there is rarely enough time in the day to find what you are looking for. A combination of patience, luck and a good eye may bring good results but there is no replacement for experience in this pursuit. Finally, when you find the particular variety you have been looking for it is important to never reveal the location of your discovery. People have been known to go to their graves without parting with such closely held secret.

The are a small number of mushrooms which work their way through the earthy ground at this time of year, but among them the St George’s mushroom, which is also known as Tricholome de la St George, Thricholome Georgii L’Écluse and Mousseron du Printemps, is the most highly prized. While they are said to grow in meadows and grassland, they are most likely to be found on the edges of woods. The season described by most writers is from April to June and they traditionally emerge on or about St George’s day and continue in season for a few brief weeks.

In Ireland and England their caps are primarily white, but they can be found elsewhere coloured yellow ochre, and rare varieties are known to be brown or chamois. The caps, which have a dry appearance, vary in size but they can grow to be 15 cms in diameter. By the time they grow to any great size they are more than likely going to be providing refuge and nourishment to a small worm colony, so it is best to pick the small ones when they are found, and check the larger mushrooms for infestation. Beneath the caps the gills are white and fragile. This mushroom has a large foot and grows in tight groups, so you generally will find more than one in any one location. When cut in half the flesh is firm and white. One of the most distinctive characteristics of this mushroom is its smell; the odour is quite strong and pleasant, and has been described as resembling freshly milled flour.

Ignoring Mr Jaccottet's esprit de vivre, we steamed around the hillsides and meadows in an old Peugot 405, which cut down some of the vast wandering required to locate these mushrooms. With the small basket of mushrooms we had collected I decided to make an omelette. After cleaning them, they were cooked on a pan over a low flame in mountain butter with a little salt and pepper. We had earlier liberated some eggs from chickens nearby, and these were whisked and poured over the lightly cooked mushrooms. After two or three minutes I put some grated Comte cheese from Frasne on the runny surface of the uncooked egg and mushroom mixture and finished the omelette under a hot grill. It looked great and tasted really good, but I was scolded for not slicing the mushrooms finer and for overcooking the omelette. I accepted these criticisms graciously while drinking a glass of undated, but assuredly ancient, white wine from the Jura.

In preparation for the meal I found a book entitled “60 Champignons 190 Recettes” by Suzanne Fonteneau and Philippe Joly published in 1978. These authors rate their mushrooms with a star system; four stars being the best, and so on. I will not query why they did not chose a system of marks out of 10 or 5 for example, being nice round figures allowing for a wider variety for distinction, however in their opinion both the Truffe du Perigourd and Tricholome de la St George achieve the lofty and distinguished score of a perfect 4. Among the recipes they offer for the Tricholome de la St George is `Tricholome á la paysanne`. For this recipe you shall require 400 grams Tricholomes de la St Georges; 50 grams of butter; 2 spoons of vinegar; 1 spoon of flour; 1 egg; half a glass of dry white wine;2 spoons of bouillon; salt and pepper.

The method given is as follows: After cleaning the mushrooms, cut them into slivers (remember not coarsely or in chunks!). Gently cook them with half the butter and the vinegar. At the same time make a roux with the remainder of the butter and the flour and mix in the suggested half glass of white wine and the bouillon. All this time, you should keep the juice of the mushrooms moving on the pan seasoning with salt and pepper. The recipe is completed by turning the mushrooms onto the sauce, mixing together, and just before serving stir in the egg yolk into the ensemble to bind it together.

The recipe as given does make sense however; you may wish to experiment with another variety of mushroom and the suggested quantities a few times to gain some confidence in it and to satisfy yourself in advance of cooking these highly prized mushrooms. I would also suggest using white wine vinegar in preference to any other, and it appears that the tablespoon measurement is the weapon choice for this recipe.

A traffic jam or "bouchon" in the Haut Doubs, Franche Comté

The Good Life - Gooseberries

Green gooseberries in May

In recent years gooseberries have disappeared from shops and vegetable counters. Is it the case they are not made available for sale due to a lack of or waning popularity? Does a box of gooseberries get in the way of the old staple fruit such as apples and oranges? Or are people more interested in buying dragon fruit, sharon fruit, passion fruit, mangoes and other exotic tropical fruits flown or shipped in from all over the world? As a result are there any growers left?

There is something that draws me to the humble gooseberry. When I was quite young I discovered the the bushes needed to be handled with care because they are very thorny and one needs a certain amount of patience when dealing with them. As a child I am sure I was neither careful nor patient. The berries grow in a variety of colours, yellow, green, red and apparently a white berry exists. They vary in their sweetness but beneath the odd hairy, durable and veined skin is a flesh full of flavour with a refreshing and almost exciting bittersweet combination. While the red varieties are relatively sweet the green gooseberry can be quite bitter and best eaten one at a time.

There are many of varieties of the basic gooseberry or ribes uva crispa, including, to name but a few, Invicta, Greenfinch, Whinham’s industry, Jewetta, Careless, Woodpecker, Just Betty, Montrose, Surprise and Admiral Beattie. Across the north of England during the 18th and 19th Centuries there were many agricultural shows where fanatical growers would cultivate and experiment generating new varieties to compete and show their gooseberries.

Throughout his researches during the middle of the 19th Century, Charles Darwin posed to himself, and indeed many others, countless questions on the variation of species of animals and plants, exploring his theories of transmutation and natural selection. In particular, he continually targeted variation through domestication and cultivation based upon the reported experiences of pigeon fanciers and cottage gardeners to name but a few. Darwin himself famously had 54 different varieties of gooseberry bush in his garden at Down in Kent. He often advertised and encouraged correspondence on specific subjects that captured his attention from time to time and one such request appeared on the topic of gooseberries in the Journal of Horticulture and Cottage Gardener on the 2 December 1862 almost three years after publishing “On the Origin of Species”.

He published the following in a notice:

“The fruit of the wild gooseberry is said to weigh 5 dwts. (I am surprised it is so heavy), and from various records I find that towards the close of the last century the fruit had doubled in weight; in 1817, a weight of 26 dwts. 17 grs. was obtained; in 1825, 31 dwts. 13 grs.; in 1841 “Wonderful” weighed 32 dwts. 16 grs.; in 1845, “London” reached the astonishing weight of 36 dwts. 16 grs., or 880 grains. I find in the “Gooseberry Register” for 1862, that this famous kind attained only the weight of 29 dwts. 8 grs.; and was beaten by “Antagonist.” Will anyone have the kindness to inform me whether it is authentically known that the weight of 36 dwts. 16 grs., has since the year 1845, ever been excelled?”

The seriousness of these competitions he referred to cannot be underestimated. They might have been conducted with the outward appearance of a friendly and community spirit between growers that could have competing against each other for decades, however the weight measurements are to this day recorded in drams, grains and pennyweights troy, a unit of measurement more commonly associated with a measurement of weight for precious metals than fruit. The oldest show still running today is held by the Egton Bridge Old Gooseberry Society on the first Tuesday in August. In 2009 the Whitby Gazette announced the new world record weight of a gooseberry which had been entered into this prestigious show by champion grower Bryan Nellist. The “Woodpecker” which won the Harland Challenge Cup weighed 35 drams; 39.867 pennyweights troy.

At this time of year, those lucky enough to have a good crop of gooseberries should begin thinning them, removing about half of the crop to allow the remaining gooseberries room to grow. I am this lucky and will commence a bit of thinning at the end of May once they have had a chance to plump up just a little more. These “green” gooseberries are not thrown away or to be wasted. They are edible and can be introduced into tarts, preserves and jams. One interesting recipe which twins these young berries with another seasonal companion appears in an excellent book entitled “Forgotten Skills of Cooking”, page 444 to 445, by Darina Allen.

For Gooseberry and Elderflower Jam you shall require the following: 1.6 kgs. of green gooseberries, 5 or more elderflower heads tied in a muslin bag, and 1.6 kgs. of warmed sugar. You might wish to consider picking your elderflowers on a bright sunny day. To make the jam, place the gooseberries and the muslin bag of elderflowers into a preserving pan with 600mls of water after washing, topping, and tailing the berries. Simmer the fruit until it has softened and the contents of the pan have reduced by a third. Remove the muslin bag and add the sugar. The jam should be boiled rapidly until setting point is reached and thereafter placed into sterile warm jam jars, and sealed. Some people calculate setting point by the clock, others by temperature, however the time honoured way is to draw your finger across the back of the wooden spoon you have used to stir the jam. If the jam does not flow back into the area you have drawn your now blistered and burnt finger, the setting point will have been reached. This recipe should yield 6 x 450 gram pots of jam.

The Good Life - Seasonal allotment philosophy

The seven-spot ladybird (Coccinella septempunctata)

There was a constant stream of rain showers across the country last week however most of them managed to bypass our little garden. The first slugs have emerged from the dank dark world they occupy but as yet there is limited evidence of them in allotment. Corinne is returning to France soon with the primary objective of returning with my Christmas present to her; "50 facons d'assassiner les limaces" [50 ways to kill slugs].  This authoritive tome should provide valuable assistance in the weeks to come. Nature's great counter offensive to the nasty aphid population has also arrived on site. Brightly coloured ladybirds have appeared in force to commence their annual feast. The less common 22 spot lady bird can also be found at this time of year. These guys prefer a diet of microscopic fungi and mildew which they find on plants.

The cool recent temperatures may have slowed growth in the last two weeks but the annual cycle of the seasons never ends. Swifts and swallows, yet another cornerstone of summer, have also made to Ireland's green shores despite numerous reports of delays imposed by closed aerospace and volcanic ash clouds. We hope this weekend will be a turning point and signal the end of a prolonged cold spell, bringing a return to normal temperatures for this time of year. We have been quite cautious for fear many plants might perish and have decided to delay putting down the courgettes, pumpkin, patisson, and corn, to name but a few,. This weekend we spent a lot of time transplanting the lettuce, turnips and carrots to new beds. We think cabbage seed may have become mixed with the lettuce seed, because we have some very odd looking lettuce with robust dark green leaves. These mystery plants have also been transplanted and given a new home.

I have discovered one of the most remarkable things about working on an allotment is the fact that you become thoroughly absorbed in it to the exclusion of so many other daily activities. I often lose track of the time and find that we arrive at the shops to do the weekly shopping last thing on Sunday evening covered in muck and dirt. Following the news seems less relevant, especially at a time when the media are behaving like merchants of doom and gloom concentrating on the past, current difficulties, shortcomings and failures, with little or no consideration of the future. I find the allotment is the perfect anecdote to the morose content of current affairs. Over recent weekends in the allotment, we have rarely had a chance to dwell on the past. In the world of the allotment a disappointment is always short lived even though the compost heap may be full of them. I may have persisted with my gooseberry bushes for two years while they promised nothing but barren thorn ridden branches but beside them the raspberries would always be abundant in fruit. Running an allotment is possibly the purist pursuit in optimism you can have.

The word mistake is rarely used. In circumstances where an error is made, it is easily covered up and forgotten or is simply put down to experience with no loss of face.  While the scale of the allotment may be quite small your focus is solely fixed on the future; the next phase of planting; and planning the extended harvest of various crops; and last but not least dealing with the pests, and attending anger management classes to address the sensible slaughter of thousands of slugs. There is very little to regret - except perhaps this week and the non-appearance or germination of my tomatoes.

A pretty 22 spot lady bird (Psyllobora vigintiduopuntata) on a nettle leaf

The Good Life - No rabbits allowed!

This is myself watering the triffids at sunset - Photo by Moritz "the Sicilian"

The recent rain has brought about a discernable amount of growth. Weeds are abundent of course and grow with unusual rapidity. Seeds that have slowly germinated in the last few weeks have fresh leaves after emerging from the darkness of the soil; the carrots, beetroot, lettuce and spring onions are now readily recognisable albeit still diminutive. The deep green leaves of the potato plants have emerged from the crusty earth. Surprises are plentiful elsewhere as the gooseberry and redcurrant fruit have begun to form and the first sighting of a thin lonely spear of asparagus. Of the five asparagus crowns we planted on the fifth April, this solitary spear will hopefuly have set the example for his fellow spears and demonstrates some promise for future months, although they shall be required to grow through for the first two years before harvesting.

Fruit forming on the red currants

Although it is practically the middle of May, the weather is still somewhat unstable for planting young vegetables. The weather is improving and temperatures are rising, however the wind is still predominately from the north east and the damaging chill of winter remains with us for the moment, threatening tender young seedlings, and pushing back planting plans. Dwarf yellow beans which we planted three weeks ago have had to be dug up and new drills sown due to recent ground frosts which killed the plants. The extra time afforded to us due to the delayed planting schedule has allowed us develop some of the more difficult ground at the front of the allotment. In the last few days we have been digging and developing a small complex of new raised beds. Harry has also been working hard on the allotment during the weeks. He told us he found a tonne of bark (in an as yet undisclosed place known as "somewhere") and the walkways are now quite neat and hopefully will be weed and mud free for the foreseeable future.

Some new digging and raised beds

In the last few weeks we have seem a number of young rabbits about looking to gorge themselves on young leaves. Other allotment holders have found them hiding under upturned wheel barrows. We think our little patch is pretty much rabbit proof at this stage, and have dug the wire into the ground to prevent burrowing. Corinne is considering putting up a notice to ward them off. It was originally entitled "No Rabbits Allowed". This sign has been since changed to read "Rabbits strictly by appointment only".

 Primroses

 Blossom from a wild prune tree

The Dandelion wine was siphoned into the demi johns on Tuesday the 27th April. Having given it some thought, I decided to add a teaspoon of wine yeast to kick the fermentation process off, and since then it has been bubbling away in the corner and keeping us entertained. Every now and again froth develops on the surface of the mixture and will suddenly recede, but all the time the fine bubbles rise to the surface causing the fermentation trap to bubble and gurgle away. We have also opened a few bottles of the nettle beer which is approximately two weeks in the bottle. The first bottle was certainly an active brew, because I had primed the bottle with a teaspoon of demerara sugar. Luckily mugs were on hand and very little beer ended up being wasted. Subsequent bottles were more of the gentle sparkling variety, and the beer exited the bottle without ceremony in the normal way, which was a relief. It was served chilled with a slice of lemon and it tasted very refreshing and palatable. To reduce the ceremonial type pressure there are a number of options available; I might use less sugar priming the bottle or simply wash the inside of the bottle with a sugar solution.


As May begins the countryside is full of colour at this time of year for a very brief period. Along with the abundant and easily recognisable dandelion explosion, the last two weeks heralded the more subtle arrival of the pretty yellow primrose. The primrose grows in small tufts on grassy lanes, railway sidings and in secluded watery ditches. The cherry and apple trees are now bright and coloured with blossom and among the hedgerows the wild prunus and hawthorn are full of delicate while blossom. A brisk wind or heavy rainfall will carry the delicate blooms to the ground to be forgotten for another year.

 Corinne dreaming about her garden in the evening sunshine

The Good Life - Rain

View from the shed where sheltered during the showers

There are holes in the sky where the rain gets in

But they're ever so small

That's why the rain is thin

Spike Milligan

Nearly four weeks of dry weather ended on Saturday evening as gradually but surely isolated droplets of rain began to fall through the small holes in the sky. Initially I could count the drops on the windscreen of Corinne's car, monitoring with interest the possibility of a downpour, and after about 20 minutes of it became clear we would have a decent shower or two overnight. Harry worships the rain, and waxes lyrically about the special nourishment all vegetation receives from it. He often says that the watering can is no substitute for the rain and in his experience plants would be jumping out the ground after a good spell of rain.

The first radish; a striking 1960's red against our 1960's baby blue table

Harry always recommends a steady slow pace of work in order to make it through to the end of the day. He has numerous stories, approaching the status of parables of a bygone age, from his days working with Dublin Corporation. In between planting a few rows of onions Harry broke off and told me a story of a man he used to work with. He had been tasked with the preparation of a patch of ground for a lawn and half way through the day, but not the job itself, a manager arrived on site and insisted the grass be sewn that evening. After a moments thought, this man seeing the impossibility of the demand and the lack of knowledge or his supervisor, responded with a moderate amount of Dublin sarcasm, and requested permission to mow the grass the following morning. We laughed heartily for a while before casually progressing onto the few remaining shallots, while Corinne was slaving away elsewhere in the allotment transplanting beans.

Corinne sorting through the dandelion flower heads

 

Bright full blooming dandelions during a sunny spell in the afternoon

There has been a fantastic growth of dandelions in the last three weeks and recently I have been reading about traditional Midday Dandelion Wine. I suggested to Corinne that we might try to make a batch. She seemed to be quite enthusiastic and told me her father made many bottles of what they called vin de pissenlits in France and went on to say that it tasted very nice. I was immediately sold on the idea, and when we had a break on Sunday afternoon I walked across to a neighbouring field and set about collecting as many dandelions as I could. The idea is to pick the flowers at midday or when they are fully open. After about two hours I had tired of the constant picking and bending routine, and became slighly worried by the fact my fingers were being stained black, and  returned to Corinne. For a good hour we picked through the flowers watching the little beatles make their escape from the pile of yellow flowers while removing as much of the green leaves and stalk from beneath the flower head as possible.

Upon returning home, I measured out 8 pints of flowers into a clean bucket and then poured 16 pints of boiling water over them finally covering the bucket with a clean cloth. The recipe stipulates that they be left to steep for two days and no longer. The mixture must then be strained and poured back into a pot and brought to the boil. For the quantities I am using, I must use the zest of 8 oranges and boil the mixture for ten minutes. The mixture must then be strained again through a muslin cloth into a clean bucket containing what I am currently calculating to be 6 pounds of sugar, making sure to dissolve the sugar. When cooled sufficiently, the juice of the oranges and the yeast can be added, and this mixture can be poured into a secondary fermentation vessel with a fermentation trap, and allowed to ferment completely.
 

Corinne's father has warmed me already that yeast will not be necessary as this mixture will ferment like crazy. Furthermore he recommended I should leave at least 20% free space in the demi john to deal with the highly active fermentation process. The English recipes recommend racking and bottling the wine when it becomes clear and to allow it to age six months in the bottle before tasting. Corinne's father differs on this point as well, and being French he is probably more patient with the whole process. He advises bottling the wine after a year and promises us time will improve the wine. In any event my next date with the dandelions is Tuesday evening when I must strain the mix and add the zest and sugar, and make a decision in the yeast.
 

The forecast for the week is good for the allotment because showers are forecasted for just about everyday during the week providing good prospects for the initial growth period and reported green shoots. The Irish economy may not be as fortunate as every week brings with it revelations of financial impropriety. The unimaginative politician's refrain of green shoots has now lapsed only to be replaced with the specter of projected economic growth, which it must be said would sound more convincing from an old haggard gypsy clasping a crystal ball.

The Good Life - Green shoots

 Redcurrants beginning to flower

The good weather has continued for yet another weekend and the green shoots of growth are everywhere to be seen in the allotment. The beans and peas have broken through the caked dy earth and I have been sowing more peas in order to lengthen the harvest period when it arrives. There are early signs of slug visitations, so we must be vigilant to prevent these guys from taking up permanent residence. There have alsobeen lush green leaves appearing on the currant bushes, some of which are already bearing small flowers. The leaves on the raspberry canes are slowly shooting and we expect to have a good crop from them throughout the year in the berry garden. In contrast the gooseberries are slow to show signs of life, but I am prepared for this annual disappointment.

Forcing the rhubarb has been profitable; the large drum covering the rhubarb crown was lifted off the ground such was the extent of the growth. It has since been plundered a few times for tarts and my personal favourite, rhubarb and walnut sponge.

We have three small nursery beds into which have been sewn a variety of lettuce, cress, mustard leaf, radish and beetroot. The mustard leaf is growing rapidly under a thin protective cover as have the radishes. Meanwhile the lettuce is somewhat frail and slow however they will soon grow to be big and healthy specimens once transplanted into a larger bed.

 The colourful and rapid growing mustard leaf

My nettle beer brew was slow to ferment at first but after about three days the situation changed and the fermentation went into overdrive. The temperature of the room where I had left the brew was quite stable only dropping to a low of 16C and rising to a maximum of 19C during the week. By Sunday morning the fermentation had stopped and I racked the brew into my expensive swing top lemonade bottles priming each bottle with a teaspoon and a half of demerera sugar. I hope this does not mean I shall be picking shards of glass out of the walls in the coming days but it should guarantee a bubbly brew. Instead of tasting the beer after a few days I have decided to let it stand and clear for at least a week. 

The next entry should be interesting. By then I will know the result of my labours. I may also know where I went wrong because I should have received Mary Aylett's book on Country Winemaking by then. In particular many of the recipes and methods I have read to date use cream of tartar in the process, and I must admit I do not understand what this ingredient actually brings to the mix, or what its purpose is. Mary might help out on this point! In any event, if it tastes good all will be well for a week or two; if it does not hit the spot the slugs will die happy. Corinne has suggested that we might experiment and develop a black fly treatment for the vegtables based upon the nettles; I have of course ignored this suggestion because picking nettles to fix a few black fly is not my idea of fun when a perfectly acceptable beer can be produced from them.

The skies have been remarkably clear since a little volcanic activity commenced in Iceland on or about midnight on the 14th April. Dublin normally has a lot of planes coming a going, and passing over on transaltlantic routes. Hence, it was quite remarkable to have an unmarked skies overhead late last week with not a single vapour trail to be seen. I have heard there are quite a few people looking for clean underwear and wondering when they will make it home, but the photograph below demonstrates just how empty and beautiful the sky above Dublin's docklands was on Thursday evening.

 

The Good Life - Sunshine, stories and tea breaks

 The allotment looks bare but there is life!

It has been a fantastic weekend in Dublin. The high pressure is well established and the the high cloud has yielded an uninterupted spell of sunshine for the last two days. We have moved from Winter to Spring in a matter of two weeks and the Birch have still not even begin to bud. However, when we were doing our shopping yesterday there were a number of people leaving the stores with BBQ sets and charcoal. Corrine says "En Avril ne te decouvre pas d'un fil, en Mai fait se qu'il te plait". In other words In April you wouldn't take off a thread, but in May you can do as you please. As I was digging I felt tempted to peel off a layer or two as the temperature rose however the arrival of a chilly sea breeze quickly changed my mind. The seasonal warm weather is welcome but you have to be wary.

The rise in temperature is evident in the ground as the seeds we have planted outdoors have been germanating;  the radish, salsify, peas and various beans, lettuce and spring onion have been shooting strongly in the last week. The indoor crop is already a good handspan high except for the pumpkin and pattison which remain dormant beneath their thin duvet of clay and compost. We have also been boosting our berry garden by purchasing cambridge favourite strawberries, late producing black currants and early season red currants. All these have been purchased at Lisenhall Nurseries, which is well worth a mention, because everything we have purchased there was in excellent condition and had a very healthy root system, guaranteeing growth and fruit. This is in stark contrast to a few gooseberry cuttings my parents purchased for in a well known German cut price supermaket (begins in "L" and ends in "l"). Corinne and I planted a few asparagus crowns in the last two weeks and already there is a little evidence of growth as shoots are breaking out through the soil. The only problem is that I do not necessarily believe the shoots that are appearing are asparagus. This could spell some trouble for Corinne, the horticulturally trained half of the partnership. If I find she has planted some dodgy piece of inedible shrubbery, or worse still a flower of some sort, there will be hell to pay.

As my four litre batch of birch sap wine enters its fourth week of production, I have decided to extend my home production to nettle beer. After spending an hour and half collecting young nettle tips I had amassed just over a kilo. I thought they would be plentiful and everywhere for the taking, but the nettles were sporadic thriving in well shaded patches of the birch forest, or where new runners had spread growth rapidly to newly cleared ground. In taking some of the tips the nettle was so tender the runner would also be easily pulled from the ground.

The ever dependable radish;.they sprout quickly and make me look like I know what I am doing!

For this experimental brew I gathered just over a kilo of nettles and simmered them in a large pot with approximately 4.5 liters of water, and a dandilion root for a little bitterness, for about an hour. After leaving the nettles in their pot for a further period to stew, they were strained and I added a pound of sugar and the juice of a lemon to the chestnut coloured wash. The sugar dissolved quite easily at this stage because the wash was just over 40 celsius, however it took some time for the temperature of the liquid to drop below 30 celsius, the point at which the yeast can be added. Adding it at too high a temperature will kill the yeast. The idea is that you let the brew ferment for three or four days, or until fermentation has stopped and then bottle it with a little sugar in each bottle. Some recipes call for sugar syrup others a teaspoon of sugar. We have bought some nice French lemonade with swing top bottles to drink for the next few days, whereupon we can use these bottles to rack the fermented wash. Fingers crosssed all goes well, or else there could be a lot of scrubing and repainting in the spare room. Apparently the beer can drunk within a week but it may be best to let it rest for at least two weeks. As it is an experiment I suppose I should test it at various stages, but we shall see.

I planted potatoes with Harry on Saturday. As a retired parks man from Dublin Corporation and having learned his trade at the Botanic Gardens it was inevitable that every time he stood up to rest on his hands on top of his shovel he had a story to tell. This makes for a very pleasant way to draw breath and pace yourself through a job that was going to last for two hours as we went back and forth preparing the drills and planting potatoes. Over the last few weeks I had seen most people around us planting potatoes on their plots. They were meticulous in their digging, preparation of the drills, and laying in the potatoes. Some used pegs and lines for straightness, others measured the distance between the potatoes with tape measures and some extolled the various attributes of their favourite potato.

This is Harry (wearing hat far right) multi-tasking; listening, resting, giving advice peppered with abuse and milking the shovel.

Harry is quite layed back in this regard and we fitted our four rows into a raised bed with a minimum of fuss. On one break he stood up straight supporting his body weight yet again, possibly sniffing for tea in the air, with both hands set u[pon the top ofv his shovel. Corrine calls this stance "milking the shovel". He collecgted himself slowly and began to tell me a story of an old lady in her 90s who had once asked him for some advice on the way she had been planting her potatoes. Harry opted to answer her question with a question of his own and smiled inquiring "How long have you been doing it your way and what have the results been like?" She replied "Twenty years and the crop has always been excellent". Harry retorted "I wouldn't change a thing if I were you". We continued digging and finished the job; it was not neatest or straightest bit of planting as we guessestimated our way across the bed but Harry's wisdom and experience will always produce a good crop. He commented at one point: " I see alot of people here putting potaotes straight into the manure or dung in the bottom of their drills, but to prevent any potential burning of the seed potato you must spread a little barrier of peat compost, across the bed and then place it in the ground". And so the stories continued and the day went on: stories and tea breaks

Palermo at Easter

A view looking over the bay of Palermo from Monte Pellegrino

I have taken a break from digging in the allotment, and office work, to visit friends in Palermo. It is almost a year since I was last here and I have been taking the opportunity to visit some of my favourite; the church of San Cataldo, the cathedral at Monreale and the wonderful bread from a small wood fired bakery there, and the lively street markets of Palermo. The weather is warm and the season's fruit and vegetable production is already well underway. Different varieties of artichokes, vast mounds of fennel, the first strawberries and citrus are sold on overloaded stalls or are being sold directly from the backs of piaggio or aprilia trucks. The fish markets are notable principally for the absence of the big tuna fish. They have not arrived yet, but their arrival is imminent because boxes of beautiful sardine are plentiful. The mackerel and swordfish, which also feed on the sardine are to be found in the market. Meanwhile, messages from Dublin keep me advised of the unseasonably inclement and cold weather conditions taking hold of Ireland.

Under Roger II, Palermo was the most important port and enlightened Court in the Mediterranean, and a shining light in the Medieval age. Sicily today is rudderless and Palermo has changed in the eleven moonths since I left. Recent elections promise little or no change because the same personnel are in charge of the continued slide into the abyss. The people are unhappy in a place where poverty is no stranger. Sicily has a reported unemployment of 30%, but as with everything official here the official figures mask a critical situation in order to present a more acceptable state of affairs than the actual reality. Heavily policed protests on the streets are the visible resistance to the loss of work and pending closure of local factories. There would appear to be little hope, and even less of a future here for most people.  There is however some moderately good news in the papers this week. La Republicca in Palermo reports a hoard of silver removed from the site of Morgantina, (near Aidone in the province of Enna) during the early 1980s is to be returned to Sicily. This hoard of Hellenistic silver is currently on display in Rome having been on display and in the possession of the Metropolitan Museum, New York.

 The atmospheric and undecorated interior of the mid 12th Century Byzantine inspired church of San Cataldo, Palermo.

To escape the chaos and populace of Palermo we decided to take the train to Cefalu. The train's destination was Messina, and as such it served every village and town along the way. Consequently, the two carriages which made up our train were full of people with luggage and crates of every size and shape. We slowly exited the predictable and decaying monotonous structures of the suburbs and when the train tracks retreated from the coast our journey took us through field after field of artichokes, and brightly coloured orange groves. While most people may have had a purpose for their trip, one poorly attired old man, with a northern European appearance, broke the silence and attempted to engage in conversation with his fashionable female Sicilian neighbour. His angular and broad face with narrowed eyes had focused upon a book she had in her hand. He inquired from her what she was reading. She initially attempted to ignore him, and resisted the conversation bringing her patent leather bag closer to her chest and lowering her head a little, but their proximity and his persistence, required her to communicate, and she did so reluctantly.

"Oscar Wilde" she said, but without giving the title, or softening her withdrawn expression. The man's eyes were suddenly alight and he smiled broadly as he began to speak to her warmly and with great interest in Oscar Wilde, and his own personal favourite work, "Salome". Unfortunately the well dressed and elegant lady had never heard of "Salome", and it was only through the gesturing of his hand to his neck and referencing San Giovanni this large and energetic old man managed to relate the background of the story of "Salome".

I could see the disappointment come upon him as she clearly did not know much about Oscar Wilde or "Salome", and once again he adopted a vacant and distant expression. After a few minutes he began checking through his meager belongings in search of something, and eventually drew out a leaflet on Oscar Wilde. She again resisted his overtures but relinquished once again and in doing so he proudly presented her with his valued leaflet. She looked at it, and accepting it she then read it with great interest. She smiled looking at him for the first time and inquired if she could keep the leaflet and the old man gestured to her generously and smiled. Oscar Wilde may have mused on such an encounter and possibly remarked: " There are two types of people that are really fascinating: people who know absolutely everything, and people who know absolutely nothing."

The mid 12th Century Byzantine mosaics at Cefalu commissioned by Roger II

Cefalu is a small coastal town with a little harbour and long beach which stretches practically to the next headland. There is something quite special about this place; the intensity of the suns light is reflected from the azure blue sea onto the patchwork of buildings that line promontory and the sandy shore next to the harbour. We had a lunch which consisted of an octopus salad and grilled swordfish before visiting the Norman cathedral or duomo. The entire cathedral is not decorated with Byzantine mosaic like the one at Monreale. Instead the golden mosaics are confined to the apsidal end of the church and in the vaulting above the altar.

Sprightly mountain goats made their way about the mountain more naturally than the day trippers

To the west of Cefalu there is a mountain which overlooks the quaint terracotta roofs of the town. Getting to the top requires some effort, and we were justly rewarded with not only vast panoramic views to the west along the coast, and to the north towards Ustica and the Lipari islands, but also the cooling breeze that passed over the mountain itself. 

Throughout the Mediterranean the week before Easter, or Settimana Santa, is celebrated with processions along the streets of parishes, and quarters of most cities. For many years I spent Easter in Palma, but this year in Palermo I had an opportunity to witness the Sicilian celebration of Holy Week, and in particular the processions which took place in the city on Good Friday. Where the Spanish are robed in full gowns with pointed hats and veils, the Sicilians carried statues of the dead Jesus and Virgin Mary on large biers wearing impeccably tailoured black suits, with white shirts and black ties. Many of the concelebrants completed their ensemble with gold embroidered velvet gillet smocks over their well tailoured suits. Preceding the biers was an escort of Roman soldiers and women holding the instruments of passion. Shrill brass bands brought up the rear, with a wind section principally made up of clarinets, and a percussion section of deep drums and cymbals. They played somber, but uniquely Sicilian (to my limited ear), religious marching compositions.

 A view of the congregation in front of Chiesa di Santa Caterina

We followed one procession for almost an hour as it slowly made its way from Corso Vittorio Emanuele to Piazza Bellini. The procession moved very slowly as the biers were raised and moved along for only a few meters before being lowered again. A man with a large black castanet signaled the raising and lowering of the biers. The well dressed elder gentlemen of the group marshaled the procession from the front and the rear. While the procession is as a religious one, these individuals take a notable and public role. The procession halted at Piazza Bellini and a female soprano sang two hymns from the steps of Chiesa di Santa Caterina which overlooked the gathering congregation. It must be said that she did so without being accompanied by the brass band who were improving as they went along. We parted company with the procession as it left Piazza Bellini and meandered its way deeper into the narrow streets of the city.

We have eaten on board in the port of Palermo most days enjoying the wonderfully fresh vegetables and fish which are available in the market. Moritz and Caryn have extended their Italian repetoire by including simple dishes such as spagetti a la norma and spagetti a la Romana. They have also managed to obtain recipes from friends. One in particular, Mama Paladino, has been a positive influence in the development of the menu of dishes served on board, offering invaluable instruction and guidence while sharing her vast knowledge. I will close out my adventure through Palermo's Holy Week with her very own recipe for Lasagne.

Quantities are not necessarily exactly defined in this oral tradition of passing on recipes. The following recipe may require some element of code breaking, deciphering and tinkering to achieve her high standards, however she regulates her own true D.O.P. Lasagne being composed of 2 or 3 onions finely chopped; 2 big carrots chopped, and two handfuls of celery finely chopped. 4 tablespoons of tomato paste (estratto di pomodori) and a tin of tomato concentrate (with no liquid). The other principal ingredients are 1 kg minced meat, olive oil, salt, pepper and sugar.Cook the onion, celery and carrots in the olive oil before adding the meat. While the meat is cooking dissolve the tomato paste in a little water and add this along with the tomato concetrate and 750mls of water to the pot with the meat and cooked vegetables. At this point you should add 2 tablespoons of sugar together with your salt and pepper and leave the lot to cook for an hour.

The bechemel sauce used by Mama Paladino is made up of 1 liter of milk, 1 cup of flour, salt and 4 tablespoons of butter. It must be pointed out that she adds grated parmasan cheese to her sauce; the exact quantity of which is a secret but linked to the consistency I believe.

Line a bowl with lasagne pasta before adding a thin layer of meat sauce. Then sprinkle with a layer of parmasan cheese before putting on another layer of lasagne pasta. Keep on repeating the process ending with meat sauce on top which should be covered with a bechemel sauce followed by another layer of pasta lasagne. This final layer of pasta is covered with bechemel sauce, a generous amount of grated parmasan cheese and dotted with knobs of butter. Once construction has been completed, it can be cooked for 30 minutes at 200C. Ciao Regazzi!

A box of octopus being sold at a street stall in Mondello