Runner beans

I thought they are called ‘runner beans’ because they climb, but perhaps its because of the rate of their growth. Not quite overnight, as in Jack and the Beanstalk, but pretty quick all the same. Today I noticed that there are a few beans ready for picking. I looked back at my photos to see how long they took from the start.

The dwarf bean plants beside the runner beans were planted on 11 December and they are almost ready for picking now. The zucchini plant went in the ground on 11 December and I have already picked two, with one more almost ready to harvest.

It looks as if the runner beans will have a long picking season as the beans which are ready are lower down the stalks and there are loads of flowers at the top.

These scarlet runner beans come up year after year from the same roots which I planted in 2021. The bean frame has made all the difference as, last year, the beans were ruined by strong winds. In 2022 and 2023, however, I had great harvests.

Altruistic artichoke

The broad beans have finished and new plants are in the garden. I’m using the four stage rotation system and planted a tomato plant and a green zucchini where the beans were, and dwarf beans where the silver beet was. Beyond them, you can see how much the runner beans have grown since I posted about the bean frame recently (Old school tools, 9 Nov). The artichoke (on the left in the photo) takes up a lot of room in the garden but it is sculptural and interesting, even if I have found the artichokes pretty much inedible (Artichoke, anyone? 29 Dec 2020) or, at least, not worth the effort.

Artichokes are forming on the plants now and give the impression of bobble-headed stick figures throwing their arms upward as they ‘dance’ in the breeze. I’ve posted about their antics before (Wind-ravaged 21 Dec, 2021).

Having this anthropomorphic view in my subconscious, I was interested to see the artichoke had leaned across with one of its leaves as if to shade the zucchini plant from the sun. When the sun moved off that part of the garden, the leaf lifted up again.

Green tomatoes

Optimism is needed when you grow your own food. I bought a pack of six ‘Moneymaker’ tomato plants when it was really too late in the season, but my garden rotation diagram suggested tomatoes were good to plant after the beans had finished and, generally, I’m optimistic. It was the last pack in the garden centre, and the stems of the plants were bent sideways. Warning signs. However, I planted them with stakes and the plants straightened up in a few days and grew quickly.

By the end of summer, there were large trusses of fruit – all green and showing only slight signs of ripening. Since then we’ve had several frosts. I’ve been picking the tomatoes which are beginning to look yellow and putting them on the kitchen window sill. Many have ripened: good to use in casseroles and soups and in the frittata I made yesterday.

Frittata is a great way to use garden produce. This one has kale, spinach and silver beet from the garden as well as sliced (formerly green) tomatoes.

The stems of the tomato plants have turned to mush almost – as I expected the tomatoes would too – after all, it’s Winter Solstice and the shortest day tomorrow. Many tomatoes were on the ground before I rescued them today and put them on the windowsill.

These tomatoes remain after I picked up the ones on the ground.

Intermittently, over the next hour or so, we began to hear little thuds. Some of the tomatoes were rolling off the windowsill onto the bench, into the sink and one made it as far as the floor. And they’re not the variety called ‘Tumbling Tom’!

Mid-afternoon boost

Sometimes at about 3 o’clock in the afternoon on these cooler days I enjoy a hot chocolate which is a bit more substantial than a cup of tea and, unlike coffee, won’t keep you awake at night. Microwaving might be a quick way to heat the milk, but I often burn my mouth, and watch nervously to make sure it doesn’t boil over. I tried a caste iron saucepan, but spent ages cleaning it afterwards. So I’ve bought a small milk pan with a pouring lip on each side.

With this marvellous piece of kitchen equipment, making hot chocolate has assumed the significance of a ritual. I heat the milk slowly, use a wooden spoon to stir in a square of dark chocolate, check it is hot enough (not boiling), then froth it (for a touch of luxury – and you need less milk) before pouring it into a warmed mug. Lovely. It goes well with an oaty biscuit!