Jo Arnell makes the most of the magnificent abundance in her kitchen garden...
It's high tide in the vegetable garden and about time for the glorious surplus. I'm not keen on the word glut. It sounds like the name of a great slimy monster - probably just what you'd get if you piled all your extra produce up in a corner of the veg patch. It seems to be the way of things that you can go for months without anything to harvest in the garden and then be hit by a tsunami of stuff that has to be used up straight away. Some vegetables, like some people, are just born generous. Undemanding and open hearted, they give and give, asking little for themselves, bar enough water and sunshine to bring them to the point of harvest. Broad and climbing beans, courgettes and loose-leaved (as opposed to hearting) lettuces are ideal vegetables to grow if you are new to growing your own, or if you just want to make sure you have something to show for your efforts. These happy-go-lucky crops will more or less look after themselves, unlike those prima donna brassicas, the pouty cauliflowers and Brussels sprouts, who have to be coaxed and cajoled along for months before they'll bother to show up with anything edible.
My family seem to go off the vegetables that are prolific, reliable and easy, which is so annoying - "courgettes - mmm... how simply delicious! Can we have them again tomorrow?" I'll dream on. There must be an unwritten law that states that the easier the crop is to grow, the less appealing it is - not even my chickens will eat Swiss chard, which is so, so easy and also really beautiful. The alternative is to cultivate a never-ending supply of grateful friends and neighbours, or to adopt the ‘grow it and throw it' technique, which is disheartening to the grower (me) and the cook (me again). Over the years I've developed a thick skin and an even thicker collection of recipes in order to try and keep them interested. Quick and easy dishes are really what you need, as the process of picking and preparing home-grown vegetables seems to take up quite a bit of time - follow that with a complicated or long-winded recipe and it could be past midnight before anyone's had a bean to eat.
During the summer I try to keep a stock of some basic ingredients that will go in one way or another with a range of crops. I have pecorino cheese, pancetta cubes (or bacon) and ready-made pastry on standby in the fridge and risotto rice, pasta and pine nuts (or walnuts) in the food cupboard. Having chickens helps, as there's a multitude of things that you can slide into an omelette or quiche. I also grow herbs like basil, coriander and oregano as they go well with tomatoes, courgettes and salads. Keep a bottle of salad dressing, made with flavoured, or balsamic vinegar, made up and you'll be sorted for everything - bar the courgettes - they really are too prolific for their own good. Just try to remember not to grow so many next year, two plants is plenty - and prepare to make endless ratatouille and glutney chutney.
There are two vegetables that before I had a vegetable garden I wasn't really that fussed about eating: broad beans and tomatoes. I avoided broad beans, remembering them as tasteless, floury lumps. But growing my own has been a revelation. Reliable and prolific (apart from the odd blackfly infestation - pinch off the affected parts), pick them when they're thumbnail sized (yes, they really do sleep in blankety beds, as the song goes) and they'll be tender and delicious - try with pasta or in a risotto, or transform them from humble bean into a glamorous hors d'oeuvre by making broad bean crostini (if this doesn't convert a broad bean hater, then nothing will).
Tomatoes are not that easy to grow, but once you've tasted the difference between home grown and shop bought, you understand why it's worth the effort of growing them. I love the cherry tomatoes and the variety Gardener's delight is so reliable and prolific, but the best thing I've grown so far is a heritage beefsteak called Brandywine. There are virtually no pips in this tomato, the flesh melts in the mouth and, even better, in the pan, so you can make the most wonderful tomato sauce. The most popular thing I did with it last year was to make ciabatta and French bread pizzas. I was hoping to build up a supply of the sauce for the freezer, but it was too delicious and it all got used up, so this year the greenhouse is packed out with plants. So, glut monster - do your worst - we're ready!
It's worth growing broad beans just for this recipe. Harvest them when they're young and you won't have to skin them. Buy them from the shops (there's no sin in this, by the way, they're cheap and usually local at this time of the year) and you may have to slip them out of their skins for a better texture, but it's not compulsory.
Brush the bread slices with the oil and place in a pre-heated oven – approx 140?C. Bake for around 15-20 mins, until golden brown. Meanwhile cook the beans in boiling water for 2-3 mins, drain and cool by rinsing in cold water. Skin and place in a bowl, then mash them down with a potato masher until they are a rough paste (you can do this in a food processor, but keep it choppy, not too pasty). Add the other ingredients, adjusting to taste. Spread the mixture onto the toasts and garnish with mint or a shaving of pecorino.
Use lovely big tomatoes that dissolve without leaving too much skin or too many pips. The riper the tomato, the better the sauce.
Soften the chopped onion for 3-4 mins in a deep frying pan or shallow saucepan. If you want to remove the skin from the tomatoes, scald them with boiling water – the skin should then peel off easily. Roughly chop and add to the pan together with the other ingredients. Simmer on a low heat for 20-30 mins. Remove from heat and either serve as it is, or puree to a finer consistency.
Jo Arnell runs practical gardening courses from Hornbrook Manor Farmhouse in Woodchurch. To find out more visit www.hornbrookmanor.co.uk or call 01233 861186.