麻豆约拍

Seeds truly are magical things, aren鈥檛 they?

Tiny pieces of promise just waiting to be set free by warmth, light and moisture.

And to add to the mystery, they come in a myriad of fascinating shapes and sizes. From powdery little specs of dust, dry, gnarly contorted lumps, tiny whirly-gigs or slender little boomerangs.

Those of you who grow plants from seed, be they trees, flowers, herbs, fruit or vegetables, will know only too well how it feels to see those first fledgling shoots emerge, to cultivate them, to watch them grow and perhaps in turn to grow yet more plants from the 听seeds which they produce. And so it goes.

Seeds crop up in a couple of pieces on this week鈥檚 programme (forgive the pun!)

Ann Fitzsimons, with flowers in mind, takes a mini master-class in the studio on how to sow them and grow them.

Alongside bags of seed compost, little seed-sowing modules in a range of sizes and shapes and handy loo-roll holders ready for re-cycling, were packets of Cleome, Cerinthe, Cosmos, Antirrhinum, Nasturtiums and Sweet Pea. Even their names sound intriguing.

They will become beacons of gorgeousness in the summer garden.

All you need are a few basic utensils, the seeds of your choosing and a little knowhow. It does help if you have a greenhouse of course, but a handy window sill will do and then perhaps a small cold frame outside for acclimatising the seedlings to the cooler atmosphere of the garden.

Those of you lucky enough to have a greenhouse will know how special a space it is, a place where tiny seeds sprout or established plants over winter and where all are helped to grow and thrive by light and warmth, makes it the essential engine room for any garden.

All those things were happening in Barbara Pilcher鈥檚 new greenhouse when we went to visit during the week. Barbara and Jonathan are in the process of making a new garden on a wonderful site where the light from the sea and the sky play a huge part and where established trees, a boundary stream and a nearby woodland, all add to the special atmosphere.

Already fruit trees and have been planted and raised beds put in place and decisions made about what may stay and what may go.

The greenhouse is midway down the garden and sits at a friendly angle to the right of the terraced path.

As the door slid gently open we were met by the earthy smell of warm soil, which always hurtles me straight back to my childhood.

On the shelves and in the ground beneath were tiny pots of 鈥渃ut and come again鈥� salads ready to harvest, by spinach shoots to be eaten now or allowed to grow on, by flat-leaved parsley and by small pots of asparagus kale, destined ultimately for raised beds in the garden proper.

The small pots of asparagus kale give no sense at the moment of the large plants which they will eventually become and it was out into the garden that we went next to harvest some kale from an established plant which had happily overwintered and with which Barbara was about to make some lunch.

Into the hot pan went some glossy, pale green olive oil, some slices of garlic and ginger and a powerful little red chilli, making a wonderful fusion of sizzle and scent. Then in went the kale for a minute or two to soften and absorb the other flavours.

Some slices of baguette already flavoured with garlic or olive oil were then topped with the garlicky, gingery, spicy kale, et voila, a really tasty green bruschetta lovely on it鈥檚 own or equally great with a bowl of soup. And as well, some crunchy, salty kale crisps which had been drizzled with olive oil, scattered with sea salt and roasted in the oven. Green and gorgeous and all grown in Barbara鈥檚 back garden.

What could be tastier on a nippy February day, or more guaranteed to make you want to have a go at growing it all yourself.

Thanks Barbara

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