The tricks to growing great leeks
There's one key to growing a good leek crop, and Jenny finally feels the love.
LEEKS used to be an afterthought in my garden. My lack of forward planning meant they were never a success.
I would plant seedlings as soil temperatures nose-dived in autumn. They’d grow no more than pencil-thick and promptly bolt in spring. We never got a meal.
They were a waste of garden space, until last year, when I had one final try. I spotted a punnet in a garden centre in late January. Usually, I leave the plant to languish for weeks by the tap. This time, I planted them.
For the first time that winter, the cook of the house had something new to experiment with, and we enjoyed a passable leek feast.
Once I mastered the timing, it was satisfying watching the leeks grow, knowing a good winter crop was in the bag, ready for harvest at a time when almost everything else in the garden is waning. The striking symmetrical leaves are a bonus.
I have come full circle in my love-hate leek relationship. Despite my scepticism and neglect, leeks have earned their place.
6 reasons to love leeks
Leeks are one of the hardiest vegetables. The trick (as I’ve found) is they need up to six months in the ground.
Leeks will stand, uncomplaining and undemanding, through winter, without protection from rain, hail, frost or snow.
They are more adaptable than onions, and not sensitive to short winter day length.
Once you get the hang of growing them, they are a reliable vegetable from late autumn until early spring. You can harvest them right up until the ‘stem’ starts to become woody in spring as the flower stem forms.
Leeks are versatile in the kitchen too; like onions, but with a more subtle flavour. They go well in stir-fries, casseroles, pasta, wrapped in suet pastry and baked, or even roasted.
Leeks make wonderful winter broths, such as a classic leek and potato or leek and chickpea soup. We love a wholesome, traditional cock-a-leekie soup incorporating a whole chicken, bacon, leeks, and whatever else you like.