We are immersed in the fruits of the harvest at the moment. We’ve been digging our potatoes since the beginning of August, but the joy of sitting down to a meal with knowledge of it’s origins does not wane.
It’s a special joy to share the bounty with guests and enjoy their pleasure as they consume the meal, knowing that the potatoes were growing just an hour before being eaten.
Lifting the lid on the saucepan and watching the steam waft upwards, always seem to bring a smile to our own and our guests faces.
These potatoes are growing in a patch of ground that had been used for many years to dump hedge and grass clippings – the most difficult type of waste to decompose. The heap accidentally caught fire in dry weather a few years ago and although we quenched the flame it continued to burn slowly under ground for almost a week, I assume the path of the branches and twigs allowed a restricted flow of oxygen to reach the fire core.
With the addition of high nitrogen compost from the hen-house, combined with potash from the ‘charcoal like’ slow burn of the fire, the ground is very fertile, the earth is really friable, easy to manage and very productive.
