Foraging and farming: food from the land

After a wet spring the land around our little house is lush and green. My husband David (the Spanish Gardener) is busy strimming and tidying for his clients, scything his way through knee-high vegetation. And we're looking forward to growing and gathering what we can from the land this summer.

Here's what we learned last from last year's successes and failures.

Wild asaparagus
Long, green spears of wild asparagus pushed up after the April rains in 2012: they are delicious fried quickly in a little olive oil and sprinkled with salt. See this post.

Apricots
We didn't really grow the apricots; they grew themselves on the little tree in front of our house. We got enough in early June to make several jars of not-too-sweet golden jam.

Apricot blossom

Nisperos
There are a couple of trees nearby from which we scrumped nisperos (also called loquats). You peel back the vibrant orange skin to find a juicy sweet fruit, sometimes with a touch of sharpness. In the centre is a large, glossy brown stone. They probably would have made a good, spicy chutney but I didn't get round to it.

Cherries
A tree on the corner of our land was covered in cherry blossom in the spring and I watched and waited for the fruit to grow and ripen. Then, all of a sudden, it disappeared - the birds had got it before we had a chance. So we bought bagfuls of cherries from market stalls in the village.

Pimientos de padrón
These are delicious picked while green, fried fiercely in olive oil until they blister and blacken, then served immediately, sprinkled with coarse, crunchy sea salt. Most taste green and fruity, but the occasional one is fiery hot. Well, that's the theory. Ours are all - every single one of them - super spicy.

So we've given up eating them in the traditional way - it's just too painful. We've roasted some in the oven and stored them in a jar covered in olive oil. These will be good on pizzas. The rest we're using as fresh chillis in curries and Mexican dishes.

Serrano chillis
We're still using up the free packs of seeds we picked up in Wahaca in London a couple of years ago. They were slow to germinate in 2012's late spring which had some cool nights, but in late summer they started to fruit and then turned red in the autumn sun.

Tomatoes
While it's true that we can buy delicious and cheap tomatoes in the village, we couldn't resist growing some of our own, so we decided to go for cherry tomatoes, which are expensive to buy. We had a bit of a slow start - May was chilly and the seeds didn't germinate until well into the month. However, the summer sun really got the plants going and the fruits were ripening by early August. A sun-warmed, sweet tomato straight off the vine is a lovely thing and we thoroughly enjoyed our harvest.

Of course, there was a glut so I dried some in the sunshine with some stalks of rosemary spread out on a baking tray (it took a couple of days) and then put them into a jar covered in olive oil. The rest I roasted in the oven and made into soup. But cherry toms aren't as good as big tomatoes for this - you get too many seeds. This year, we've got some seeds for some more unusual varieties to experiment with.

Figs
The tree on our driveway produced a steady crop of small green figs over about six weeks from mid-August. I'd been warned that some figs have a little white worm inside, so we cut each one in half and examined carefully before eating. Figs are very rich and some people prefer them cooked or dried. I dried a good batch in the sun over a couple of days, keeping them safe from flies under one of those Women's Institute-style muslin umbrellas. And I included some more in a compote with some peaches, apples, cinnamon and sugar. This worked well with yogurt for summer breakfasts.

Fig chutney in progress

Grapes
There's a small grapevine that grows up a west-facing wall of our house. It produced lots of black grapes in August with no attention other than a bit of pruning and pinning up earlier in the year.

Cucumbers
We grew several plants from seed, but only got a couple of fruits before they succumbed to powdery mildew.

Melon
I'd saved some seeds from a variety of small melon we'd grown successfully in London. The plants grew and began to fruit, but the mildew got these too.

Herbs
Basil thrived in the Mediterranean sun. Parsley too. Oregano is doing so well that it's gradually taking over my little herb garden, although the species I've got (I don't know which) doesn't have a very pronounced taste. A few different types of mint seem pretty failsafe and new stalks have been popping up happily over the past couple of months. Coriander (very frustratingly as it's a herb that we can't buy easily here - I miss our Cypriot delis of north London which sell enormous fragrant bunches for 75p) rushes to seed every time I try.

And so the new growing season has started -we're looking forward to seeing what comes up.

To grow fruit and veg or not...?

We've just completed our second summer in Catalunya and we're getting used to the differences between our vast, terraced, sun-beaten plot here and the small north-facing back garden we had in London.

In spite of the chill, rain and gloom in London, we managed to grow a lot of produce outside our little ground floor flat - tomatoes, courgettes, chillis, basil, rocket, beans, cucumbers - even mini-melons. It took a lot of commitment, a drip watering system and a greenhouse, but we loved doing it - and eating the results (pics below).

I also became an expert in cooking and preserving damsons; we had three trees in the garden and one overhanging it (they were there before we moved in and we couldn't bear to destroy them). Each year we rushed to pick the kilos and kilos of hazy purple fruit before the wasps moved in to suck them dry. We had damson chutney (I've just started my last jar from 2010, and it's dark and rich and delicious), jam (not as successful), flavoured vodka (just damson, and a Christmas-themed one with raisins, cinnamon, allspice and ginger), crumble, sorbet, etc, etc.

When we moved here, we dreamed about how easy it would be to grow all the Mediterranean fruit and veg that taste so much better sun-warmed and plucked straight off the plant. But if you take a rational approach, there's a balancing act to be struck. We can get cheap, fresh and delicious fruit and veg from the groceries in the village, as well as from the little old ladies who, for a few summer months, open their garage doors and sell figs, tomatoes and peppers grown on their own plots. At the same time, we don't have mains water, which means that there's a significant cost to be borne in keeping everything hydrated during the dry summer (and sometimes, spring, autumn and winter) months. 

So last summer, as we'd just moved in, we didn't grow much - just a few tomato plants that the previous owner kindly left, some chillis and some basil in a pot. We had a lovely harvest of figs from the tree on the drive too. You can read about last year's harvest here.

Early this year, though, my (I won't call them green) fingers were itching to get started on some planting. I'm the most impatient gardener - I get frustrated if the seeds haven't germinated within 24 hours - but still I love it. I spend most working days indoors, on a hard chair typing away at my computer and it's wonderful at 7 o'clock to turn off the machine, stretch, pour a glass of cold white wine and go outside to soak up some warm sun and potter around with some seedlings and some soil.

More soon on our mixed successes with this year's fruit and veg.

Wild asparagus

The April showers (well, torrential rain and hailstorms) mean that what was once hard bare ground is now lush with bright green shoots of new growth.

Impending rain

Hailstorm, 14 April

Icy cactus

The brambles are once again making their prickly way over the garden, but the terraces that we've not yet tidied up are full of the bright colours of wild flowers - purple thistles, yellow cotton lavender, and lots of plants - pink, red and orange - that I haven't yet identified.

Best of all, there's wild asparagus. 

When we arrived in Catalunya in March last year we often spotted people walking slowly by the side of the road with big handfuls of long, slender spears. I looked out for it too, but never succeeded. After a few weeks of determined effort though this year I've got my asparagus eye trained.

It is much more slender than the asparagus in the shops, often very dark green, and, when it gets overgrown, all those little buds on the sides shoot out to become prickly branches.

Wild asparagus

After 10 minutes of foraging

I fry it quickly in a little olive oil and some salt. With a little bread it's a good starter. It tastes smokier than cultivated asparagus and somehow a little more green.

There's also wild garlic springing up now, hard green apricots and almonds are already on the trees, and the cherries are definitely on their way.

Little green hands: the first fig leaves in early April

End of the calçot season

Calçots are delicious: try them if you get the chance.

They are a giant Catalan spring onion which are cooked until black in the flames of olive prunings, then wrapped in newspaper for a while to continue cooking in their own steam. When you can wait no longer, you unwrap, burn your fingers while peeling off the charcoaly outer layers, dip in salbitxada sauce (ground almonds, tomatoes, peppers and other things) and stuff them in your mouth as the hot juice dribbles down your chin. It's a messy process - see pics below...

Now the season is coming to an end - time for summer sangria!

Three eggs today

In January we fulfilled one of our living-in-the-countryside dreams and bought three chickens.

After David had eyed up expensive, finely combed Basque fowl and we'd considered the pros and cons of a cockerel (he looks after his girls but might have your eye out with a claw) we eventually settled on three point-of-lay bog-standard red hens from the local garden centre. They were only about five euros apiece, but by the time we bought a coop, some food, a feeding trough and a water dispenser it's going to take a year or so to repay our investment.

We tucked them up against the freezing winter winds with generous piles of sawdust and stacks of straw bales, bought 'Chickens for Dummies' and hoped for the best.

Eventually, one morning around Valentine's Day (the traditional start of the laying season) we found our first tiny brown egg nestling warmly in a corner of the coop. After that the eggs became bigger and bolder, but only ever one a day which seemed to signify that only one chicken was in lay (unless they were taking it in turns).

Then last week one of the hens shuffled herself down into a big pile of straw in the chicken run and began to make a nest. David predicted the second egg of the day and he was right - we got a little brown speckled one. We celebrated with eggs for breakfast on Sunday.

It was all going well until Sunday afternoon when the chickens were pootling around happily in the shade of the pine trees. (They have their own run, but usually escape and wander around until we put them back.) We'd forgotten that the puppy was off her lead. There was some barking and clucking, then a lot of squawking, flapping and pounding of paws. The puppy isolated one of the chickens and chased her down down the terraces into the forest, David chased the puppy, I tried to herd the other two chickens into their coop, David rugby-tackled the (very happy) puppy in a gorse bush and dragged her back to her kennel, and eventually we pulled the miraculously-not-dead-chicken out of the forest. Only one egg the next day.

But then today we had three eggs - hurray!

More veggie thoughts

We were kept awake for much of last night by high winds roaring through the forest, howling down our chimney and throwing around our dustbin.

At one point - possibly between pondering whether the puppy could actually be swept off the porch and listening to The Now Show podcast - I thought of a few more veggie in Spain things. (See previous post here for more.)

• At a Spanish wedding David was served nothing but a plate of lettuce; and the waiters came out to look at him.

• We once ordered huevas at a restaurant instead of huevos. These were small grey sausages of squashed together fish eggs. They weren't nice.

• Champis are delicious little snacks served at some bars in the north of Spain. (We've had them in Zaragoza and Bilbao.) They are mushrooms fried in oil, chilli and cider speared onto a piece of bread with a toothpick.

• Even gazpacho can be fraught with risk for a vegetarian. Eateries with ambition serve it with some tiny pieces of chopped up pig (plus perhaps boiled egg, onion and pepper) - for extra flavour, of course. (David makes a very good gazpacho with chilli croutons.)

A veggie in Spain

Reading this post about being a vegetarian in Spain on the Tales from Toriello blog by Ian and Luis made me chuckle.

My husband David is a vegetarian and we face exactly the same challenge - the fact that most bars and restaurants in Spain don't cater for, understand or want to acknowledge the existence of vegetarians. (I love eating meat and fish, but enjoy cheese and bean-based dishes too, which is fortunate for our marriage.)

We've never been able to enjoy one of the super bargainous menus del dia (a three-course meal, usually at lunchtime, for 10 euros or thereabouts) that you get in such a lot of restaurants in Spain as there's never a vegetarian option. (I do feel a bit put-out about this.)

In a strange city, we'll frequently opt for an Italian restaurant as we know that there will be some choice for Vegetarian Husband.

And, like Ian and Luis, we know that a tortilla de patatas is often the best (and only) way forward. (As long as there's no random bits of pig thrown in for 'extra flavour'.) Patatas bravas, patatas ali-oli and pa amb tomaquet (bread rubbed with garlic and tomato, with olive oil and salt - a Catalan speciality) are also useful - but not necessarily balanced - stand-bys.

The fruits of our (not very hard) labour

When I was in England this August I could feel autumn coming as the days became shorter, the rain colder and the air developed a chilly bite. It felt like back to school, like the start of the six-month British winter, time to pack away light summer clothes and find the Christmas decorations - not good at all.

Even though over the past week or so England has enjoyed a summery blast of heat, I think it's better here. Yesterday it reached 35 degrees in the shade - as hot as it's been all summer, yet the cooler mornings give a bit of a bounce to life. David's been up and out early, hacking stubborn old shrubs and suckers out of the terraces in the early morning light (well, the sun doesn't come up until about 8am), and the plants are enjoying some free water from the overnight dew.

We're benefitting from a longer growing season than we were used to in our north London garden. I planted some serrano chilli seeds on 1 July (thank you for the freebie, Wahaca), they flowered in late August and I thought we were far too late for fruits, but now we've got a good crop well on the way.

I've just planted some more chilli seeds to see what will happen. David says it's a silly idea.

We had a huge crop of figs from one tree in late August/early September. We couldn't keep up with eating them as fast as they needed to be picked so I tried drying some in the sun. They took about two days to become storable, but not completely dry. They tasted wonderful - almost better than the fresh figs as they're not as rich. However, a few ended up with maggots in as they'd been sitting outside smelling sweet and delicious for the flies and wasps. I'll try drying them in muslin bags next time, I think.

I made a few jars of chutney too. I'm giving it a little while to mature before I give you the verdict. It looks nice though.