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Oof! I’ve been in a Zoom meeting this evening, so please enjoy this photograph of muddy carrots.

Yes, it’s that time of year again – the end of the cottage garden when the last of the ragtag bunches of vegetables that come out of the ground. My remaining spring onions are now the size of golfballs.

I say ‘my’ spring onions – the garden is entirely the province of Uncle B. My only contribution is keeping the chickens off it (I don’t always succeed). Oh, and eating the vegetables. It is glut time.

My specialty is a little number I like to call Cream of Shit-from-the-garden Soup. Throw whatever I’ve got in a pot, boil it with chicken broth, zizz it with a hand mixer and add cream. It’s different every time, but always delicious.

I have been forbidden from fermenting vegetables since the Brussel Sprout Incident. Damn near asphyxiated everyone.

September 13, 2022 — 7:35 pm
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