Weeding the Web

Still time to enter Mr Fothergill's Sweet Pea Competition (garden writers welcome)

Two hundred and fifty quid! Better than a poke in the eye, don't y'think? This is the first prize in each of the adult classes in Mr Fothergill's Sweet Pea Competition at Capel Manor Gardens on July 18th. 

While some serious competing will no doubt go on in the class for the National Sweet Pea Society, in the other classes each bunch of mixed blooms will be judged on its overall appeal.

There's also a class this year for garden writers and broadcasters, which is how in a burst of enthusiasm I am now in possession of a packet of Tiller Girls, a new mix from the seed company (I've calmed down, and note with slight disappointment that reward in this class is more for the love of it, rather for any filthy dealings with disgusting lucre).

I foresee tears and tantrums. I haven't grown sweet peas for ages, mostly because mine never seemed to get going, but hung around the three-foot mark, showing little interest in the view from higher up.

Still, John Fothergill stresses that the amateur classes are aimed at normal gardeners. "Entrants do not have to be expert growers.  We want as many people and schools as possible to have a go and join in the fun," he said.

And competition co-ordinator, Pim Dickson said, "No one should feel their blooms are not good enough to enter. It is only a bit of fun."  There should be plenty of entries from schools, as the competition has so far proved very popular with them.

I fear that just throwing seeds in and hoping won't be enough. Last year's winner, hobby grower Keith Thompson explained that he nets his plants to protect against pollen beetle, pinches off the tendrils and side shoots to encourage long stems and large blooms, adds plenty of farmyard manure to his soil and fertilises with blood, fish and bone just before he puts out the young plants. And he waters regularly. (Now, why did mine only reach three feet? It is a puzzle.)

Although many experienced growers will have started their sweet peas before Christmas, it's not too late. "Sweet pea seed can be sown in small pots of compost and placed in the greenhouse or on the kitchen windowsill any time during January or February", said John.  "The seedlings grow away well as the days lengthen to provide stocky young plants for setting out to their flowering positions in March or April".

The competition, which was first held in 2013, has also been moved two weeks later this year, to ensure that more people's peas are in full bloom. If you can't make it to Capel on the day itself, you can post them in a plastic drinks bottle (more details are on the Mr Fothergill's blog), but it's certainly bound to be a gorgeous display.

In the meantime, here's a rundown of the prizes for the various classes:

1     General Class £250/£150/£100.

2     General Postal Class £250/£150/£100.

3     Individual Junior Class* £125/£75/£50.

4     Individual Junior Postal Class* £125/£75/£50.

5     School/Group Junior Class £250/£150/£100.

6     School/Group Junior Postal Class £250/£150/£100.

*These prizes will be given as Garden Centre Gift Vouchers.

 

 

I'll have to wait and see how my Tiller Girls turn out. If you're a garden blogger, why not take part for the trophy? Do let me know if you're taking part and I'll brace myself for loving mine purely for their personalities.

 

Vertical gardening with Victorian verve

There's nothing new...blah, cliché, cliché. but honestly, there isn't, is there? Materials change, engineering advances, but ideas?  Coming around again, as the Carly Simon song goes. But here's an idea for vertical gardening that I hadn't seen before.

I recently discovered the far-too-absorbing website Mostly Victorian. To me, brought up with a pre-war (that's pre World War One) edition of Arthur Mee's Children's Encyclopaedia, which was regularly taken out for the poetry and stories contained therein, the pages on the website have a very familiar look. I guess it was the publishing style of the period.

And what features in a Girls' Own Paper as a "Novelty for Small Town Gardens"? A Wall Garden! A Victorian version of Wooly Pockets.

Doesn't look immediately different from the usual array of pots that you might hang up on a wall, but the accompanying letter reveals that all the pots are custom-made with open backs so the soil is up against the wall, and the plant roots (which the writer seems in constant fear of damaging) "delight in the brickwork".

Easy access, easy planting up, no damage by her cat's myriad friends, and, it seems, less watering required.

The only problem nowadays would be finding someone to make the pots. And possibly the wall.

A Yorkshire garden break (part 1)

When a hotel extends an invite to stay for the night, I don't know about you, but I jump at the chance. Which is how Husband and I found ourselves in Scarborough at the end of November.

Yes, November. Yes, yes, Scarborough - North Sea, much Weather. But teeth, mouths, gift horses and all that. And, I can tell you, after a five-hour drive up the M1, Ox Pasture Hall Hotel - grey stone, nestled in a fold of the North Yorkshire Moors - couldn't have looked more of a refuge.

It's also only five minutes' drive from the centre of Scarborough, so we beetled off to make the most of what was left of the afternoon light. Have you been? It's not obviously touristy. The old harbour is charming but not extensive...

And the main shopping area isn't picturesque (the noticeable number of small parades around Scarborough is surely down to the extreme steepness of the locality. No one at the top of town is going to want to shop at the bottom too often!) but there were lots of side streets with small independent stores that we didn't have time to explore.

And then we made our way to the headland. Past St Mary's Church where Anne Bronte is buried...

Kept an eye on by the Bronte Society.

... and up towards the castle (massive, but sadly not open much in winter) where we found jaw-dropping views of the coastline. Pictures just don't do justice. Jagged coastline, imposing cliffs, pounding sea - moody and magnificent as the sun set behind us.

Told you. Couldn't do justice.

Given a longer stay, coastal walks would be calling my name.

Gardens in Scarborough

Now, at this point, you're probably thinking there's not much for a gardenista in Scarborough, but I'm kicking myself that we missed this little gem. The Shuttleworth Miniature Garden was established after WW1 as a sensory garden for blind soldiers. A £2.8m restoration was completed last year and, with the Victorian Italian Gardens laid out by Joseph Paxton and the rest of the South Cliff Gardens, it sounds an excellent reason for a return visit.

If you're as big a fan of public gardens as I am, Peasholm Park will also appeal - a Japanese landscaped garden that's home to the "smallest manned navy in the world". Twice a week in summer, miniature ships act out a famous battle. What's not to love?

Ox Pasture Hall Hotel

So, back to Ox Pasture Hall to enjoy Pointless from the sofa in our suite.

There are ten different luxury suites, and ours, the Hornsea Room, was in the new block (see it to the left of the picture at the top) which was completed last year and sympathetically built around a courtyard, in character with the older buildings. The advantage of such newness is that they gave it plenty of room. Not only was the bed super king-size (as all beds should be, in my opinion)...

...and not the rock-hard penance that so many hotels seem to favour, but the bathroom was sumptuous, lined with Filled Travertine, with shower and bath big enough for two, and the swish hotel features that you're grateful to try out because you discover that never in a million years would you have them at home (a door-less shower, so the water goes all over the floor, and those ultra-trendy spouted taps that mean you never know exactly where the water is going).

This is a dog-friendly hotel. I can just see myself up to the jaws in hot water after a long tramp across the North Yorkshire Moors.

Dinner

It being November (did I say?) and guests being few, we had dinner in the wood fire-heated, low-ceilinged bar (there is an airy restaurant looking on to the central courtyard). The a la carte menu offered nine starters and ten main courses, with a couple of vegetarian options on each (my vegetarian brother-in-law would have been delighted to find mushrooms featuring in only one dish - as they tend to ubiquity).

Starters

Confit Duck Salad, Duck Liver Parfair, Cherry Sorbet

Salt Baked Beetroot, Carrot Puree, Beetroot sorbet, Orange

 

Note the trendy sorbets. The one with the duck turned out to be raspberry, not cherry, but Husband said that it still worked well, with a cold fruity hit complementing the liver parfait, while the sliced duck added depth to taste and texture, though the filo basket didn't really add anything.

 

My beetroot starter was light and refreshing. What salt-baking does for a beetroot is a bit of a mystery, but it was beautifully sweet and worked well with the carrot puree and sorbet.
 

Main courses

Slow-cooked Pork Belly, Tender Loin stuffed with apricot and sage, savoy cabbage, sauteed potato, homemade black pudding, red onion marmalade

Oven-roasted cod, chorizo ratatouille, fondant potatoes, red pepper coulis

 

Husband's slow-cooked belly of pork with loin stuffed with apricot and sage proved a carnivore's delight. It would have been good to have a bit more balance with more Savoy cabbage and potato but the belly of pork was perfectly cooked, tender and moist, and there was good flavouring from the sage and apricot in the belly of pork pieces.

 

The cod turned out to be the star of the meal, as the chorizo added a zing to the tomato, creating a foil for the heartily chunky and perfectly cooked cod. 

Desserts

Chocolate and pistachio fudge cake, arctic roll, banana mille feuille

 

Selection of Yorkshire cheeses, chutney, biscuits, fruit

 

For me, my dessert was the least successful creation. All three parts of the dessert were very sweet, and the banana too bland to balance. Husband, though, tucked into the cheese with almost too much enthusiasm for me to nab a bite. The cheeses were local, well kept, nicely contrasting, and the chutney turned out to be medlar jelly which is a lovely match.

All in all, thoroughly enjoyable. You can see that the food's aiming at artful presentation but still offers a hearty plate and avoids being sidetracked by excessive flights of Michelin fantasy that can prove irritating. Not every element quite worked, but the excellent-quality ingredients were well cooked (local too) and allowed to take centre stage. 

So, if you're tempted to venture as far as Scarborough, in a forthcoming blogpost I'll offer some suggestions for a mini-tour of the area which will let you enjoy the comforts of Ox Pasture Hall.