Task 20: Grow a vegetable

On the whole I enjoy gardening and I like the feeling of being in tune with nature - apart from slugs, worms, stag beetles and most other creepy crawlies. It's satisfying watching something that you've nurtured grow into an attractive plant, or at least survive without too much blight, and add colour and scent to the garden. In principle the same should apply to growing vegetables - arguably more so, as you can eat the produce - but I've always doubted that it's worth the effort. You only have to watch allotment owners staggering under the weight of their courgettes, all of which seem to come on stream at the same time, and eagerly handing out supplies to anyone who doesn't already have more than they need, to wonder why they bother. Maybe if I liked soup it would be different, as I'm perfectly happy to help deal with a superabundance of fruit, but I just can't get excited about loads of bulky and not particularly flavoursome vegetables.

Maybe it was time, though, to see what the attraction was and try it for myself. After all, I had been keenly disappointed when a slug had eaten all my chillies overnight, on the plant I'd bought from the supermarket. (No doubt it too had quite a surprise as it digested its plunder.) On that basis I included growing a vegetable as one of my challenges. In case that slug was out for revenge, I decided to aim for three different types, reckoning that at least one should make it through to harvesting. Having done some googling and asked friends with allotments which were the easiest, bearing in mind I'd be using containers as the soil in our garden is rock hard and almost solid with builders' rubble and tree roots, I settled on baby beetroot, spring onions and potatoes:

I didn't exactly feel like an earth mother as I planted them out in early April, but still there was a definite frisson of excitement. Unfortunately none of my pots was really large enough for the potatoes, so what was meant to be repeated "earthing up" during the growing process, in practice amounted to no more than three small extra coverings before the rim of the pot was overflowing. I'd assumed that the new potatoes grow underneath the ones you plant, so I'd allowed lots of space for that, and by the time I was told it's the other way round, it was too late. Still, something was certainly happening:

Baby beetroot seedlings

Spring onion seedlings

Potato seedling

With daily watering during the dry spells, everything seemed to be flourishing:

I knew I should remove more of the beetroot and spring onion seedlings but I couldn't face taking out more than this, even though it left them clearly overcrowded. A quick death by lifting out or a lingering life of malnourishment? The latter at least held out the possibility of survival and seemed less cruel. Daft, how maternal I was becoming about these vegetables.

Googling about what to expect next - I honestly had no idea - I was pleased to read that the leaves of the baby beetroot were edible and made a pleasant addition to a green salad. What I should have realised was that the leaves were at their peak then, and would proceed to get scorched and wilt. So, an opportunity missed. Meanwhile, however, the plants seemed to be going from strength to strength, and all without any added chemicals of any sort:

Just as one of the potatoes was coming into its prime and flowering, it suffered a bit of a setback. Looking at it one morning I noticed that it seemed to have keeled over and the thick stem was broken. I wondered whether the foxes had knocked it over, although that seemed unlikely as it was very heavy and nothing else had been touched. Then I spotted a large sprinkling of potting compost on the lawn and realised that one of the workmen replacing the leaking conservatory roof must have accidentally hit it with his ladder. He'd bundled the remains back into the pot and presumably hoped for the best. Oh well, at least I had a second potato that was still intact.

Having stupidly thrown away the seed packets and forgotten to make a note of when I'd done the original planting, I wasn't sure when the plants would be ready for harvesting. I knew what the leaves of full grown spring onions look like, so that wasn't a problem, but how could I tell when the potatoes and beetroot were done? Friends advised that I should wait until the potato flowers had disappeared and the leaves shrivelled. As one plant was now broken and horizontal, and the other wasn't looking too chirpy, it wasn't that easy to tell. I took a chance on the beetroot and pulled one up a few days ago. By then it was supposed to be the size of a golf ball. It was only about half that, but we had it as part of a Nutribullet drink and it tasted OK. Today I pulled up a few more for a friend who actually likes beetroot, and they were about right. I proudly displayed them, along with the spring onions she'd agreed to take (by now I was in allotment mode, with too much available all at once):

The big moment came late this afternoon, when I delved under one of the potato plants and was delighted to find 3 healthy looking potatoes. There were more to be dug up, but I only needed three for dinner so I left the rest where they were, ready for another day. I also lifted a baby beetroot - definitely golf ball size - and several spring onions, to go with our salmon:

I was looking forward to savouring the taste of really fresh new potatoes and felt inordinately proud of my haul. However pride cometh, etc, and I must admit they didn't taste any better than average supermarket produce. The spring onions were an improvement on the type we normally buy, as they were slightly milder and very crisp. The baby beetroot disappeared into the Nutribullet so I can't say how it compared to the norm, though the drink tasted fine.

Over the three months it took to produce these vegetables, I derived a great deal of pleasure from watching them grow and they were very little trouble, apart from remembering to water them most days. I now understand why allotment owners are so keen on doing this, despite the doubtful economics and the hassle involved if they aren't on your doorstep. I'd be tempted to give it another go next year, but I think it's only worth it if I can do a deal with someone so that between us - or preferably about four of us - we grow and share a wider range of vegetables. Otherwise I'd simply end up with a glut, at a time when they can be bought easily and cheaply at the Sainsbury's on the corner.