Beginner's Garden E-Book

Alex Mitchell

• Herausgeber: IMM Lifestyle Books
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Seitenzahl: 235

Beschreibung

This book offers a fun and lighthearted guide to growing your own salads, herbs, vegetables, and fruit, armed with little more than a trowel and some seedlings. Aimed at complete beginners, it de-mystifies the gardening process with sound practical and seasonal advice, lots of hints and tips for successful growing, delicious recipes, and fun weekend projects to help you make the most of your outdoor area, however small. This completely new kind of gardening book is ideal for first-timers who have busy working lives but still want to grow their own produce—without spending all weekend digging.

Leseprobe

Published 2018—IMM Lifestyle Books

www.IMMLifestyleBooks.com

IMM Lifestyle Books are distributed in the UK by Grantham Book Service, Trent Road, Grantham, Lincolnshire, NG31 7XQ.

In North America, IMM Lifestyle Books are distributed by Fox Chapel Publishing, 903 Square Street, Mount Joy, PA 17552, www.FoxChapelPublishing.com.

© 2009, 2018 by IMM Lifestyle Books

Produced under license.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers and copyright holders.

Print ISBN 978-1-5048-0098-3eISBN 978-1-6076-5516-9

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Mitchell, Alex, 1971– author.

Title: Beginner’s garden / Alex Mitchell.

Description: Mount Joy, PA : IMM Lifestyle Books, 2018. | “This book is an updated and revised version of The Girl’s Guide to Growing Your Own, published 2009 by New Holland Publishers (UK) Ltd.” | Includes index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2017053416 | ISBN 9781504800983 (pbk.)

Subjects: LCSH: Gardening. | Fruit. | Vegetables.

Classification: LCC SB450.97 .M56 2018 | DDC 635—dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017053416

We are always looking for talented authors. To submit an idea, please send a brief inquiry to [email protected].

Contents

Preface to the Second Edition

Introduction

Getting Started

SPRING

SUMMER

Entertaining

AUTUMN

WINTER

Garden Villains

Glossary

Resources

Acknowledgments

Photo Credits

About the Author

Preface to the Second Edition

WHEN I FIRST WROTE THIS BOOK, I had a tiny London garden, demanding toddlers, and an obsession for growing fruit and vegetables that was only slightly curtailed by the needs of the screaming toddlers and my own overambitiousness. In the 10 years since, during which my children have become less interested in my attention than that of their computer screens, I have swapped city life for a large rural garden, where the veg plot shares space with seven sheep, four chickens, and an apple orchard (currently being eaten by the seven sheep). But my love and fascination for growing fruit and vegetables has, if anything, become stronger. I still can’t quite believe you can bury a tiny seed in soil and get something delicious you can eat a few months later. I still get a kick from the scent of tomato leaves and the sight of pearly new potatoes appearing out of dark soil. I still bore my friends with detailed accounts of my salad crop and how many zucchinis (courgettes) I picked for lunch. Only now I’m doing it on Instagram as well as on Twitter.

The world, though, has changed a lot since this book first came out (in 2009). Back then, growing vegetables was still largely the preserve of older people, mainly men. It had an old-fashioned vibe. Now hipsters from Brooklyn to Dalston of both sexes are well versed in the benefits of growing a little food, whether it’s herbs, salad, or tomatoes. And every harvest and achievement can be posted on Instagram. Young mums juggle the school run with the garden plot. Community gardens in our cities include a vegetable garden almost as a matter of course. It’s no longer odd to grow salad leaves outside the back door or on the balcony.

For me, back in my 20s, getting into growing food was I think some sort of reaction to the growing globalization of food production. In my small way, I felt that growing a few salad leaves was taking a bit of control back from what felt like a scarily monolithic system—the supermarket. We were concerned about fossil fuels and air miles with beans being flown across the world when they could just as easily be grown at home. It was also a reaction against the use of chemicals in intensive farming.

These concerns show no signs of going away, but I wonder if, for today’s young people, there’s an additional reason for the appeal of growing your own. Over the past 10 years or so the relentless dominion of screens in our lives pushes us ever more to enjoy the simple, slow pleasures of sowing, tending, pruning, and growing. And it’s not just gardening. The whole area of domestic craft—home baking, sewing, and preserving—has had a shot in the arm over recent years thanks to the success of television shows such as The Great British Bake Off. It is no longer uncool to potter in your kitchen or garden, especially when the fruits of your labors can be #hashtagged into cyberspace. Spending time in the garden is not just weeding, it’s mindful weeding. I will leave the irony of social media’s influence in pushing the benefits of these slow pursuits to other minds to analyze!

Beets (beetroot) sown in pots with different spacings.

I suspect that, for new gardeners in the years to come, growing food will have another appeal as global awareness of the ills of plastic and how we dispose of it in the world becomes an increasingly hot topic. Any trip to the supermarket inevitably ends with half a bin full of plastic film, trays, and bags. Grow your own and you can avoid it.

Whatever it is that impels people to sow seed and grow food, we still need basic knowledge. And I hope that my 10 further years of growing food in various locations means this updated edition of my book is even more relevant to today’s edible gardener. I have learned a lot along the way and I’ve inputted these changes accordingly. I’ve also included new discoveries to bring the growing tips right up to date.

This book was first published as The Girl’s Guide to Growing Your Own because back in 2009, young women didn’t really grow vegetables that much. The fact that this now seems strange is a wonderful thing. Since then I’ve written three more gardening books, but this one has a very special place in my heart because it’s filled with the unbridled enthusiasm of the recent convert. With the addition of the benefit of retrospect and almost 10 years of sowing, growing, and harvesting, I hope it will be useful to anyone starting on this wonderful journey of growing food. Keep growing a little bit of what you eat, no matter how small your space. It doesn’t have to take over your life, but I promise it will make your life feel a little better.

—Alex Mitchell

Introduction

IWASN’T ALWAYS THE SORT to wax lyrical over a lettuce leaf. A typical British child of the 1970s—the dawn of convenience food—I grew up eating boil-in-the-bag cod and baked beans. The nearest my mother got to growing her own peas was the frozen food aisles of our local supermarket. Now I eulogize cherry tomatoes, ponder over various types of kale, and am never happier than when wandering round my tiny garden picking sun-warmed strawberries. What on earth happened? Was it a reaction to living in a flat in north London in my mid-twenties, where the only wildlife was manky pigeons and the only greenery the plane trees in the street below? I started with window boxes of garish orange marigolds and red geraniums. Soon I graduated to arugula (rocket) and baby salad leaves. By the time I’d eaten my first homegrown tomato, I was hopelessly hooked.

As a journalist working on a tabloid newspaper alongside shouty, hard-drinking, hard-smoking hacks, I’d juggle my tomato growing bags with newspaper deadlines and keep my growing horticultural obsession quiet.

Ten or so years later and my passion for growing lovely things I can eat shows no sign of slowing down. But I’m no longer alone. Now I can hold my head high. We appear to be in the grip of a growing-your-own food revolution.

Why? We’ve now had a few years of enjoying exotic fruit in winter, strawberries all year round, and little green (French) beans lined up in perfect rows, trimmed for our convenience and flown in from Kenya. Yet something doesn’t feel right. What about food miles, pesticides, packaging, organic food standards, the state of the farming industry? What’s in those bagged salads? Most of all, what about taste? We’ve all eaten things that looked like strawberries, but tasted like, well, nothing at all. And when did peaches start resembling cotton wool?

Yet what’s a modern eco-conscious urbanite to do? You might want to eat local, fresher, organically grown fruit and vegetables, but you don’t want to move to the middle of nowhere, start wearing overalls, and become self-sufficient. You could get a community garden plot, but even if you managed to get to the top of the waiting list before you’re too old to lift a hand trowel, you might not want the hassle of travelling to a large plot some distance from your home that will need your attention come rain or shine the whole year round. You don’t want to break your back digging and lugging heavy sacks or rigging up complicated wooden supports or nets. You want to carry on as you are, just with fewer trips to the supermarket and the pleasure of picking and eating your own fresh, organic produce with the minimum of effort.

Lettuce and Red Duke of York potatoes harvested in early summer.

My pots sown for spring.

This is the book I wish I’d had when I started growing my own. It’s not for gardening nuts, it’s for people who have busy lives but still like the idea of eating a fresh salad they’ve grown themselves, popping outside to get some herbs for a risotto, or eating deliciously ripe strawberries straight off the plant. How often do you see blue potatoes, stripy tomatoes, golden beets (beetroot), yellow snow peas (mangetout), or purple green (French) beans at your supermarket? Or, for that matter, trombone-shaped squashes, purple artichokes, and white eggplants (aubergines) flecked with the most delicate pink? You don’t need a greenhouse or any fancy equipment to grow any of the plants in this book. With just a hand trowel, some seedlings, a few pots, and a bag of potting mix you can conjure a veritable harvest from a balcony or even a couple of windowsills. If you get yourself some nice gardening gloves—I defy anyone to say my pink-trimmed suede gauntlets are not objects of beauty—you won’t even need to get dirt under your nails.

Getting Started

SOME CROPS ARE EASIER TO GROW than others. Sometimes I think you could throw arugula (rocket) seed into the wind and come back three weeks later and find a salad. Eggplants (aubergines), on the other hand, can refuse to produce unless they’re showered with love and proverbial fan mail. To make it easier to choose what you might want to grow, I’ve only included crops that are easy to grow in small gardens and pots. I have, however, included a few demanding prima donnas. And when the result could be a warm, sun-ripened peach, a bowl of purple figs, or a sweet roasted red pepper, the rewards are worth it.

Symbols explained

Tip from yours truly

Project you can tackle in one weekend

Recipe to test your gardening skills

You couldn’t kill it if you tried

Reliable favorites—the horticultural equivalent of jeans and a T-shirt

Won’t be taken for granted, but no prima donna either

High maintenance! (but super worth it)

Cilantro (coriander) flowering.

Top Crops for Different Plots

However large or small your growing space, there’s a fruit or vegetable that you can grow in it. If you only have time for one crop, try these . . .

A balcony—tomatoes (here)

Indoor windowsill—basil (here)

Outdoor window box—peppers (here)

A small back garden—kale (here)

One big container—zucchini (here)

Don’t I Need to Buy Lots of Tools?

No. There will always be people who draw outlines of spades, hoes, and forks on their garden shed walls so they can hang their vast collection of tools in exactly the right place in order that they don’t get mixed up or, God forbid, actually touch the floor. This is a conspiracy to make people think gardening is complicated. Here’s the news, you don’t need lots of tools and you really don’t need a shed. Everything can be purchased online or bought on a quick trip to a garden center.

You will need . . .

For seed sowing, I use either small 3 in. (7.5 cm) plastic pots or seed starting trays—plastic grids of interconnected cells available from any garden center. These are great because, when it’s time to transplant the seedlings, you just pop out the cell and plant the whole thing, so you don’t have to worry about damaging the roots.

How to transplant seedlings from seed starting trays

Getting plants out of pots without destroying them is a basic but much overlooked skill. It’s no good grabbing the leaves and yanking—you’re likely to leave the roots behind. But simply turning the pot upside down and shaking is likely to send the poor things flying to the ground in an ungainly tumble. Nowhere is this more sensitive than when dealing with seed starting or plug trays, those helpful little grids that are so good for starting off seeds, since when plants are still small they are even more vulnerable to user error. The best way to get your seedlings out intact is to give each cell a gentle squeeze to loosen the roots from the sides, then poke up through the drainage hole with a stick or the blunt end of a pencil. The whole plant, roots and all, should just pop out and you can then replant it into a bigger container, handling it by the rootball so you don’t damage the plant itself.

Labels are good for reminding you what you’ve sown where (I’m constantly seeing lettuces poke up where peas should have been) and garden twine always comes in handy.

Otherwise, those gardening in containers can do everything they need with a hand trowel, some nice pots, and a watering can with a rose attachment (a perforated spout).

Those with a garden will need a garden fork and spade too.

Crops in Pots

Most fruit and vegetable crops can be grown in pots—in fact, some, like figs and blueberries, prefer it. A group of plants in containers can look as jungly as a garden border, and you can fit in masses on a small terrace, from herbs to fruit trees. In fact, pretty much any crop can be grown in a pot, if the pot is big enough. If you treat them as mini beds, cramming in different plants—salad leaves, zucchini (courgettes), and nasturtiums, say, or purple green (French) beans and California poppies at the base of a fig tree—pots can look surprisingly lush. Large terracotta pots, weathered with lichen, can be objects of beauty in themselves.

The best thing about growing in containers, though, is that you don’t have to worry about your soil because you’re not using it. Just buy some organic all-purpose potting mix to fill your pots with and you’re good to go. And if you haven’t time even to sow crops, you can buy them as seedlings and plant them straight out. It’s pretty much instant gardening.

Any container can be used to grow plants as long as it has holes in the base for water to drain away. You could use an ice-cream tub if you wanted, though you may not thrill to the idea of a terrace full of things with Mint Choc Chip written on the side. If so, there are many options . . .

“Crocks” in first

Every time you plant anything in a pot or window box, you’ll hear about adding “crocks” to the bottom first. What on earth are they and do you really need to bother? Traditionally, they’re bits of broken terracotta pot that stop the drainage holes from getting clogged up with soil and roots and waterlogging the plants. So, they are kind of necessary. But why would you want to smash a perfectly good pot? In ye olde times, large gardens might have had a constant supply of smashed terracotta (along with a constant supply of gardeners in waistcoats), but these days, with a small garden, you probably don’t have any. I use a couple of handfuls of pea gravel (shingle) instead, along with any broken plastic pots. Stones are fine too. Or chuck in some broken-up pieces of Styrofoam (polystyrene). They’re light, you can use them again and again, and, best of all, you’ll get rid of some of that packaging that’s been cluttering up your hall.

Terracotta. Old terracotta pots—with their faded charm and patina of lichen and calcification—are so much more appealing than the brand-new, orange, machine-made plastic things you find at big-box stores. For starters, they make it look like you’ve been gardening for ages so actually know what you’re doing. To make them look older, mix some baking powder with a few drops of water to make a paste, and brush it onto the outside of the pots with a soft brush. Leave it to dry, then brush off any excess powder to leave a whiteish patina. To keep rain from washing away the powder, finish with hairspray or fixative. No one will ever know you didn’t inherit them from dear old grandpapa’s estate.

Glazed pots. These pots are for people who want to pretend they live in the Mediterranean, which is most of us. They usually come in deep vivid blues, turquoises, and greens.

Old wooden wine crates. These are perfect for salad crops—ask at your nearest wine store, they often have some they’re throwing out. They’re somehow the perfect size to grow a decent patch of greens or even tomatoes, and their imprinted logos give them a certain élan.

Fiber cement pots. Fiber cement (fibreclay) pots are also available, and are styled to look like lead. Light, large, and deep enough for fruit trees, they look just like those heavy lead planters you see in the gardens of stately homes with the bonus that you don’t have to remortgage your house to buy them and they won’t fall into your downstairs neighbor’s breakfast.

3 and 5 look better than 2 or 4

For some reason odd numbers of containers always look better than even ones—the same rule applies when planting seedlings out in the garden. Three or five plants make a nice cluster—a group of two or four looks contrived and unnatural.

Sprinkle with pea gravel

Make crops in pots look the business by covering the top of the potting mix with a layer of pebbles (shingle). It not only looks smart and reflects light, hiding all that dark earth, but also keeps moisture in the mix and thus reduces the amount of watering you need to do. A medium-sized bag of pea gravel is easy to find in garden centers and goes a very long way.

Or improvise. If you’re feeling creative you can use anything—colanders, hats, teapots, even old boots—as growing containers. I’ve even seen strawberries growing happily in a leather handbag. Old farm (butler) sinks are popular but beware, they are incredibly heavy—and do add plenty of crocks and gravel (grit) at the bottom since the drain may not be enough for drainage. Some people seem to like the challenge of turning any old incongruous thing into a container. Tires, buckets, old bathtubs . . . I’m still scarred by memories of a friend who kept planting lobelia in a toilet. I sometimes think there’s a fine line between creativity and a vacant lot that someone’s dumped trash on.

Metal containers. Metal containers—for those aiming for a clean, modern look—work really well, whether galvanized tin, copper, zinc, aluminum, or brushed steel. Classic metal dustbins can look surprisingly smart, especially in a row of three. Even regular tin cans can be co-opted for growing herbs, salads, even hot peppers. Paint them with exterior masonry paint for a subtler effect or leave them to rust naturally. If you can find large, attractive, colorful cans—such as those used for olive oil or tomatoes in delis—they look great planted up.

Plastic. Brightly colored tubs with handles are a good size and easy to move around. If the bright colors offend you, choose black or disguise them with burlap (hessian sacking) or bamboo or reed screening cut to size (you can buy this from garden centers).

Hanging baskets: back in style

The only option for hanging baskets used to be the traditional rattan upturned dome, bursting out all over with clashing busy lizzies and geraniums like an over-exuberant hat. The recent houseplant revival has breathed new life into the humble hanging basket. Clay, plastic, even concrete planters suspended from the ceiling are adorning desirable interiors for the first time since the 1970s and, if you move them outside, they make ideal homes for tumbling tomatoes, strawberries, herbs, and baby salad leaves. Just make sure you don’t hang them with string that will rot and break when it gets wet; metal chains and nylon or plastic string are best.

Help hanging baskets hold water

The only problem with hanging baskets is that they dry out quickly in hot weather. Regular watering is therefore essential, but to make life a bit easier mix a handful of water-retaining gel into the potting mix when you plant them.

Grow bags always seem to thrive

They may be unfashionable, but I love grow bags. Long, plastic-wrapped sausages of potting mix, they’re usually emblazoned with garish pictures of tomatoes and don’t look very chic. However stylish your collection of weathered terracotta pots is, toss a growing bag in there and you’ll really lower the tone. And yet they’re so perfect for growing tomatoes in a small space that I use them every year. Nothing is easier than making three crosses in the plastic with a kitchen knife and then planting a tomato in each. They always seem to thrive, even if plants in the soil or other pots struggle.

But how to deal with that plastic? In an unusually industrious/creative moment, I had some shallow wooden boxes made, just the right size to fit the bags in. I then covered the bags with pea pebbles so you’d never know they were there. You can buy ready-made burlap (hessian) covers that will neatly slip over the grow bags, too, giving them a more natural look. Alternatively, display your garish, plastic grow bags with pride and tell anyone who criticizes them not to be such a terrible snob.

A window box for every window

Most people, even those who live in apartments, can have a garden. It’s just that it might be three floors up and on your windowsill. Outdoor window ledges are great growing spaces. All you need is a window box.

I tend to avoid plastic window boxes because, however glorious the plants in them, all I can see is the ugly box. Terracotta and light metal ones always look good, wooden ones are great for a rustic look, and there are rattan ones for the folksy-devoted. But my current favorites are those made of fiber cement (fiberclay) styled to look like lead, large enough to hold plants like eggplants (aubergines) and peppers. Whatever you choose, get the biggest and deepest you can for your windowsill (weight restrictions permitting). Small, shallow boxes can dry out in a few hours on a hot summer’s day—the larger the box, the less you’ll be rushing back and forth with a watering can. Bespoke window boxes that fit your windowsill may be a worthwhile investment since they will maximize your growing space and look elegant. Check online for a supplier.

Insulate window boxes

Metal window boxes are light and modern, but they tend to heat up in hot weather. This dries out the potting mix and can overheat the roots. Insulate the box against the sun by lining the inside (not bottom) of the box with any sheets of Styrofoam (polystyrene) you might have hanging around from packaging.

The heavier the window box, the less likely it is to blow off and knock someone out in the street below, but it’s worth taking precautions however much you may dislike your downstairs neighbors. You can buy handy bracket and box kits that keep everything safely tethered or tie a sturdy chain around the box and attach it to the wall and sleep better on those windy nights.

Crops in Soil

Yes, I know, this is the boring part. Can’t I just plant something in the earth as it is and hope for the best, you might be thinking? Well, you can, but you might not get very many tomatoes in return. I don’t know, perhaps you have inherited your garden from a lovely old gent who has spent the past 40 years digging in manure, clearing weeds, and removing stones, leaving you with perfect soil that you can merely touch with a seed and cause a productive, edible jungle to grow. But it’s highly unlikely. Chances are your garden, like most gardens, is a green rectangle of boggy lawn flanked by borders of limping shrubs, badly drained soil, a healthy army of weeds, and an abandoned bicycle (why do all gardens seem to contain an abandoned bicycle?).

So how do you transform it into a verdant paradise of tomatoes, sweet corn, salad, and beans?

Raised bed kits

If you can’t face preparing your soil for planting, there is a way out. Most garden equipment suppliers sell raised bed kits, basically shallow wooden or plastic squares that you fill with potting mix or topsoil. They work like giant containers and mean you don’t have to be so vigilant about your garden soil since you’re raising the level a good few inches. Just break up the earth at soil level before you put the raised bed on so you don’t compromise drainage.

Raised bed kits are popular because they give the impression of instant gardening and look very neat and tidy. However, you will have to construct them so factor in some time and hassle. They also scream “Vegetable Plot!” so, if you’re aiming for a more organic, mix-n-match look, combining flowers and vegetables in a cottage-garden style, they may not be for you.

Know thy soil

It’s a gardener’s maxim, often muttered by allotment veterans, master gardeners, and other know-it-alls that “look after your soil and the plants will look after themselves.” They have a point. The first step to getting your soil ready to plant into is to find out what sort it is.

Pick up a small handful and try to form it into a ball shape between your palms. If it won’t form a ball and feels gritty, it’s sandy; if you can form it into a thick cylinder but not a thread, it’s silty; if you can form it into a ring, then it’s clay; if you can’t form it into any shape at all, then it’s a patio.

Chalky soil: Soil that is chalky is alkaline, light brown, and contains large quantities of stones. Basically, chalky soils are a bit rubbish, but not irredeemable. They dry out quickly and have a tendency to stop elements such as iron and manganese from getting to plants, which can cause poor growth and yellow leaves. Add lots of organic matter—this makes the soil slightly more acidic over time. Raised beds with imported topsoil may be worth it if troubles persist. Most fruit and vegetables prefer a neutral to slightly acidic soil with the exception of the cabbage family, which prefers it slightly alkaline.

Loamy soil: This is the crème de la crème of garden soils, the Olympic Gold of the earth world. A winning combination of sand, silt, and clay, loamy soil combines good drainage with an ability to hold on to nutrients well. If you have been working your garden soil for years, adding well-rotted manure and compost regularly, you may well have one of these soils. In which case, I envy you.

The great news about your soil is that all soils are redeemable with the addition of well-rotted farmyard manure or compost, both of which come under the general category of organic matter.

Dig for victory—twice?

This is the sort of thing that some gardeners get very vexed about. They spend whole weekends digging trenches that reach almost as far as Australia (this is known as “double digging”) and carefully sorting soil into topsoil and subsoil. Really, and I’m going to stick my neck out here, unless you’re unfortunate enough to be gardening on a paddock compressed by a herd of cattle for the past ten years—double digging is unnecessary.

The only exception would be if you have a heavy clay layer under the topsoil that prevents water from draining away. This can cause waterlogging to plant roots so is best broken up with a garden fork. Adding some gravel or grit before replacing the topsoil will help drainage even further.