The emergence of the first asparagus tip brings a degree of excitement unmatched in the gardening year. You can go looking for them every day, but its appearance still somehow comes as a surprise. It is s harbinger of spring, its rubbery pinky flesh contrasting with the brittle woody stumps of last year's ferns. But more than that, there is a nurturing aspect to asparagus growing that comes with no other vegetable. You have to provide the right environment and education in their infancy, make sure they not keeping undesirable company with the local weeds, and exercise immense patience. They will then mature into rewarding and undemanding adults. These spears are the result of my 2009 sowing when we didn't even have any land, or any chance of any and so this is their fourth season. I'm so proud that they have made it through to their graduation day. The key to the finest asparagus on the plate, is to boil the water before heading to the patch with the knife at breakneck speed . Remember and practise that and you can't go far wrong, served with a knob of butter and perhaps a poach egg. In retrospect, perhaps don't put the patch at the far reaches of your acreage like I have. Those valuable seconds lost could ruin the meal. But I had an excuse, the crowns had to go in and it was the first thing I planted back in March 2010 along with my rhubarb. Here's a photo from the archives.

Jerusalem in the Spring

Spring has certainly arrived here since my last post. This is traditionally a difficult time of year for living off the garden. Stored potatoes, neeps, kale, cabbage, broccoli and winter salads are all going strong but carrots and celeriac are gone and it'll be a while before there's anything to freshen up the repertoire in the kitchen. Bring on the hard-as-nails jerusalem artichoke which could easily feed the five thousand from sowing one tuber... although they might not eat it.

I'm yet to be convinced about its merits. Some eulogise about its flavour but it is blessed with high concentrations of the tentatively identified compound, inulin [C6H11O5(C6H10O5)nOH], which most people can't digest. For once I am in the majority and it can lead to a most unchristian flatulence. But there is nothing holy about this root. It is in fact a tuberous perennial sunflower (girasole) from North America, getting its name from a mangling of a foreign language not seen again till I did italian at O level. It is a good samaritan in the garden, oblivious to weeds and providing, ironically, a good windbreak but you will need a Herod-like determination to root out those baby tubers to stop it evangelising in soft fruit patch. For all its virtues, if you're looking for the promised land to provide something at this time of year, for me it is the leek that shall inherit the earth.