A matter of taste

It was a bit of a foodie Bank Holiday. Aside from drowning 'neath a sea of tomatoes, which are currently awaiting the magic required to turn them into passata, we tried Jerusalem artichokes for the first time, Andy had a hot experience with a chilli pepper and the elderberry wine window has come upon us.

The Jerusalem artichokes aren't really ready to harvest. They have grown to form a magnificent six foot hedge between us and our neighbour at the allotment, but haven't as yet flowered. However, Andy and I were both keen to find out what was occuring underground so we decided to dig up a plant and have a look.
'After all,' I said, 'they are clearly prolific vegetables and I think we can afford a plant to be sacrificed in the spirit of exploration.'
'Especially if they turn out to taste awful,' said Andy. 'It'll be one less plant to have to suffer.'

I love the relationship Andy has with vegetables. So positive, so adventurous.

Anyway, the sacrificial plant was duly uprooted. And where I had planted a single knobbly artichoke, there were now a collection of at least 50 knobbly artichokes. Small, but perfectly formed.

'Blimey,' I said. 'That's a good return for our money.'

Back home, I consulted many cookery books and found several suggestions about what to do with a Jerusalem artichoke. Some of them involved a lot of faffing, and as I was mid-way through cooking a roast dinner, I treated the artichokes like a potato and roasted them. Plenty of time for faffing later, I thought. Especially if they taste awful and I have to faff with things like curry sauce in order to make them edible.

THEY WERE DELICIOUS!! I can't really describe the taste. Andy, Heather and I sat around the table trying to express what they reminded us of but to no avail. The only thing I can say is that they are 'deliciously earthy.' So, Jerusalem artichokes - big tick, gold star, hurrah hurrah!!

The chilli peppers have been another big success this season. I won't be eating them I'm afraid. I can't do hot 'n' spicy. I've tried but I can't deal with the heat, the numbness and the general feeling of danger that eating anything beyond a korma induces. But Andy is a big chilli fan.

'Oooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaeeeeeeee!!!' was the cry from the kitchen on Sunday evening, as he tested a chilli. He appeared in the living room where I was sewing, a glass of milk in his hand and tears in his eyes.
'Cor,' he said. 'The chillis are hitting the spot.' A puddle of sweat dribbled from his forehead.
'Good,' I said. 'You've got a lot to get through over the next few months!'

And then there's the elderberry wine. Having gone through a literally explosive experience with elderflower champagne earlier in the year, Andy was up at the crack of dawn on Sunday in order to commit a furtive raid on the elderberry trees in the park, determined his elderberry wine would be a success. He returned as I was getting up, laden with bags full of elderberries, damsons and blackberries. He also brought back a selection of spiders, earwigs and other suspicious looking bugs, although I'm not sure how heavily they will be featuring in the wine-making process.

Autumn may be on its way, but harvesting continues apace. We've completed our third year at the allotment and already we are thinking ahead to next year.

'How about trying to grow our own peppercorns?' I said.
'There's an article about that in one of the gardening magazines,' said Andy.

Growing our own pepper. Who'd have thought it, eh?