Galanthophilia

A trip to Ness Botanic Gardens at this time of the year is a chance to admire the snowdrops. I used to think that a snowdrop was a snowdrop was a snowdrop. This sort of thinking would have me hounded by galanthophiles - those people somewhat obsessed by the genus Galanthus.

I'm a big fan of the bog standard Galanthus nivalis, especially en masse. These snow piercers are simple and elegant. Before spending a couple of hours peering at the different varieties growing at Ness, I'd not really noticed the diversity between cultivars. And, whilst it may well take a real galanthophile to notice and adore the infinitessimal differences, even a mere amateur can admire the more obvious differences.

Galanthus 'Silverwells'

A variety from the 1980s

Its rather long 'ears' (sorry -not a technical term) remind me of Droopy

Galanthus 'Ketton'
Introduced by plantsman E.A. Bowles

Galanthus 'Hill Poe'
One of the more 'frilly knickered' cultivers, which are a bit too elaborate for my tastes.

Galanthus elwesii
Elegant and shy.

Galanthus 'Galatea'
A tall snowdrop, which somehow seems wrong, but with gorgeous, delicate flowers.

Noel Kingsbury's post on snowdrops suggests that there are 1000+ cultivars! I'm ashamed to admit that we currently have a grand total of zero snowdrops in the garden. We had a couple, but thay haven't come up this year. This will be remedied as soon as possible, but I think I'll limit myself to plain old Galanthus nivalis - I wouldn't want to invoke the Siadwell Principle, as so excellently explained by the Garden Monkey.

(Photos by Somebeans)

Dydd Gwyl Dewi Dedwydd! *

The first of March - Saint David's Day.

With daffodil Tete a Tete bursting into bloom throughout the garden, I thought I'd be contrary and write about that other emblem of Wales - the leek.

During the summer on the allotment I tend to frown at them a lot - they take up a lot of space for a long period of time. They take forever to get from chive size to anything resembling the pencil size that they are supposed to reach before transplanting. But when little else on the plot is providing us with a harvest, the leeks come into their own. Last year I grew Bleu de Solaise, which looked good throughout the mild winter of 07/08 but rapidly flowered as the spring came. The flowers were spectacular, but made the leeks inedible. This year, I have Bandit. Very good, very tasty and not yet starting to send up flowers. we've got quite a few of them - just as well I love leeks. They've been added to pretty much everyting we've eaten over the past few weeks (apart from the parsnip cake, though they may well have improved it!).

There is a British Leeks website which has a range of recipes and a competition. Wikipedia will tell you about their history and use as a Welsh emblem.

A couple of the simplest ways to cook leeks are either roasted with a small amount of butter (just wrap the leek and the butter in some foil and put in the oven) or cook sliced leeks in butter until softened, wait for them to cool, then add some balsamic vinegar. Lovely.

I could only find one quote relating to leeks, but it seems quite apt:
Le poireau, c'est l'asperge du pauvre. -Thibault (leeks are the asparagus of the poor).

One final reason why I love leeks - who couldn't like a vegetable whose roots look like the moustaches of a walrus?

Oh, OK - here's a picture of that other Welsh emblem too...

Allegedly, it is illegal for a Welshman to enter Chester before sunrise or after sunset. Difficult, seeing as nowadays some parts of Chester are now in Wales.

*Happy Saint David's Day (apparently - apologies if I've not got it quite right).

Cake experimentation

We have a lot of parsnips at the moment. An awful lot. We have had to dig them up from the half allotment today, as we are giving it back shortly, so we can concentrate on the whole plot.

Don't get me wrong, I love parsnips - roasted, in soup, in rosti, mashed with potato as a topping for cottage pie, and so on. But, if you can make carrot cake, my reasoning went, why not parsnip cake? And so, by the power of Google, I found a recipe.

I made the cake. It smelt good (it contains cinnamon and who can resist the smell of cinnamon?). I took it out of the oven. It looked good. (Apologies for the photos - it's rather dingy today).

We waited for it to cool, and for it to be time for afternoon coffee. A slice of cake with coffee on a Sunday afternoon - lovely.

One mouthful - SomeBeans appeared polite and said nothing. For a moment.

Ummm. Have you ever accidently eaten soap? Except not normal soap, but soap that has something very bitter added to it, to discourage foolish people from eating it? No, probably not - neither had we.

Have you heard of the song by Tom Lehrer - Poisoning Pigeons in the Park? Hope the pigeons like it more than we do...

Roast parsnips for dinner tonight.

We have a glut of leeks at the moment, too. Anyone for leek pavlova?

Wot you looking at?

The first one gets the adirondack chair with the sumptuous cushions...

Somebeans has a Chinese work colleague (hello Luoluo if you are browsing here!) who told him about the names given to people who comment on a blog. It's a bit like turning up at a party - the ones who get there earlier get the comfy seats whilst others are doomed to stand or to slump in a corner somewhere.

Apparently, the first person to comment is said to be on the sofa, the second one to be on the chair and the third one to be lying on the floor.

Translate this into more horticultural speak, and we could perhaps say that the first person to comment on a gardening blog nabs the adirondack iroko chair with sumptuous hand embroidered cushions, the second gets the deckchair (comfy to sit in but dangerous to put up and hard work to get in and out of) and the third gets the white plastic chair, liable to snap if you move too suddenly. Anyone arriving later is doomed to sitting on the lawn, probably on one of the many ants nests that we seem to grow here with great success.

So, the race is on - who is going to get the comfy chair and who is doomed to ant bites all evening?

A few days late

It seems that a few flowers were feeling shy and did not want to appear in time for GBBD. But, given a little warmth and a little sunshine they have now been coaxed out of their bashful buds. Small, but all the more wonderful because of it - concentrated beauty.

This time just under two years ago, I was writing about sowing seeds far too early.

This time just under a year ago, I was writing about sowing seeds far too early. Interesting to see that the dwarf narcissi were out this time last year. They're several weeks behind this year.

This year, I haven't sown any seeds yet! It may take time, but I do eventually learn from my mistakes. But the shining sun is making my fingers itch to go and sow some...

Déjà lu

Not a gardening post, but something that came to me the other evening, as I started re-reading a book for the umpteenth time.


There are some books I return to time after time, despite having read them so often my eyes have nearly worn the print away. Winter nights are often the times when I do this, especially if I've had a hard day at work and my brain is still buzzing with all the problems of the day. Lazy summer afternoons sitting in shade in the garden may also see me reach for these favourites.

They are warm and comfortable, with the happy knowledge that there are no surprises to unsettle me during the read. It also doesn't matter when I near the end of these books. sometimes I'm enjoying a book so much that I don't want it to end. With these books, I don't mind reaching the end, as I know I'll pick the book up again in the future and enjoy it once more.

Books on this list vary in the frequency of re-reading - some may be read again after one or two years, others may not be revisited for three or four years. Top of the list is My Family and Other Animals, by Gerald Durrell - responsible for all magpies being referred to as Magenpies.

Another often revisited friend is Last Chance to See by the sadly missed Douglas Adams and also Mark Carwardine, looking at endangered animals around the world.

A book that I have read three or four times, and that is rather apt at the moment, with it being 200 years since his birth, is a biography of Charles Darwin. Fascinating insight into his life and times.

Finally, a book that will become of my déjà lu favourites, once I can bring myself to read it again, is The Time Travellers Wife. It is so sad that at the moment I can't face reading again yet, but it is such a good book that I know I will do at some point.

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day

Not much flowering at the moment chez Mouffetard, at least not much which is readily accessible and doesn't involve lying down in mud to photograph. so behold - a Hellebore.

Garden Bloggers Bloom Day is hosted by Carol at May Dreams Gardens

A study in red

We've never grown Hippeastrum (amaryllis) before. It has been great fun watching the dried looking bulb spring into life; the stem gradually lengthening, and finally the petals unfurling. So meet 'Red Lion'. It's ridiculously photogenic.

A shock of colour in a cold, white February.

Come Dine with Me

VP has come up with a meme which has required an awful lot of thought this evening.

Several guests have already been snaffled by other dinner party hosts this evening - my first thought was for Charles Darwin, but he's busy regaling VP with tales of the movements and habits of climbing plants.

My next thought was for Geoff Hamilton, but the Garden Monkey has got there first.

So, I then thought of the patron saint of guerilla gardeners - Ellen Willmott; being described as cantankerous, I'm sure she'd make an interesting dinner party guest.

I'm sure Bob Flowerdew would be a good laugh, as long as there were strict house rules on where he deposits his recycled cider. And it might be cheating slightly but I think David Attenborough might just be sneaked in - he has made programmes about plants, and has had a huge influence on my life - watching Life on Earth as a child opened my eyes to the natural wonders of the world.

Have to admit, it would be quite good fun to invite Alan Titchmarsh too. He may be a bit annoying at times, but his programmes have taught me a fair bit over the years, and it's always entertaining to see how his hair style changes. Not to mention his sideburns.

Not sure that I'd invite these two to dine with us though.

Thanks for exercising my brain this evening VP!