Leigh Bramwell has been growing some interesting vegetables
Being a failed vegetable grower gives me the space to experiment with different things, says Leigh Bramwell
IAM A FAILED vegetable gardener. Every two or three years I have success with one thing or another, but never more than a couple of veg at a time. This year has been an embarrassment. One green pepper. Three handsful of cherry tomatoes. Five lettuces.
Fortunately, a friend who is an excellent vegetable gardener shares his potatoes, beans and tomatoes with us, so I figure that frees me up to try growing a few different things. Since I can’t even grow ordinary veg with any success, how much worse can it get?
So I’m going to have a go at amaranth. It’s one of the few greens that will grow well in hot, humid conditions, which is what we have here.
It works as a reasonable substitute for plants like chard, kale, and spinach.
With watermelons emulating the price hike of Auckland housing, it seems a good time to try my hand at mouse melons — don’t you love the name? They are also called cucamelons, and they produce small, cucumber-like fruits that are shaped like tiny watermelons. They taste a bit like cucumber with a dash of lime, and you don’t even have to peel them.
They will grow in part shade (but need full sun to produce high yields), they’re fairly drought-tolerant, they seem to grow well in most regions and they produce well into autumn so I can try my hand at them right now.
When I first read ‘samphire’ in a recipe I misread it as sapphire and thought it could be hard on the teeth. It is actually quite crunchy, although certainly not as crunchy as a mouthful of sapphires might be.
I won’t be planting it any time soon because it needs a marshy environment, which is about the polar opposite of what we have at the moment, but with climate change, who knows?
It’s an asparagus look-alike and is available in the UK and no doubt elsewhere, but unless you’re going to grow your own from seed, you’ll have to go coast-combing in tidal zones to get it in New Zealand.
It has vibrant green stalks with a crisp texture and succulent tender tips, and a distinctive salty flavour. It’s low calorie and high vitamin C. No need to rush out looking for it now because the harvesting season is very short and ends in early December, but next summer’s not that far away. And what a good excuse for exploring the coastline.
Something of a superfood
Even if you don’t recognise the name ‘purslane’, you’ll probably recognise the plant. It’s a messy, creeping succulent lookalike and is generally considered a weed.
But if you have it, don’t yank it out. It’s actually something of a superfood with antibacterial, diuretic, antiscorbutic, febrifuge (fever-reducing) and depurative (detoxifying) properties. (Yes, I did have to google the last two.) It also has high levels of Omega-3 fatty acids — 4mg per gram — and has been used as a food and medicine for a couple of thousand years.
It grows like a ground cover in dry, bare spaces and easily self-seeds, which is probably why gardeners are often keen to get rid of it.
It has fleshy, rounded, paddle shaped leaves and tiny yellow flowers from November to March which only open up when the sun is shining.
Sometimes used as a substitute for rocket, it’s crunchy and slippery at the same time, and has a slightly sour, lemony flavour. You can eat the stems when they’re young but it’s more common to eat the leaves. It’s usually eaten raw but it can be steamed, stir-fried or used in soups.
I hadn’t thought about sorrel for years but was reminded of it when I ran into an old friend from the mainland called Sorrel. Sorrel (the plant, not the friend) is an evergreen and its tasty leaves are always ready to pick. Once a plant is established, all it needs is a decent cut-back and a bit of compost every now and then to keep it healthy. It likes the cooler weather and can be planted in early March, so for once I’ve got my timing right. It should supply you with leafy greens all winter long if you plant it in a well-drained, composted garden bed with plenty of sun.