and… suddenly it's June, the first of our three precious summer months!
Not that the four seasons are that neat and tidy. Imagine if shifts did happen that predictably, with everyone switching to sandals on an agreed day, and plants, whether ornamentals or vegetables, adhering to a strict timetable. The reality is messy and changeable, with overlaps, regressions and surprises. (Crops are early, crops are late! So much variability, so many spinning plates!). 
As human beings these are things we can find tricky, we like order and feeling in control. We’re creatures of habit and store up experiences to refer to later so we can gauge how to behave next, what to expect.

Though the seasons are a useful framework to apply to our lives, because everything from projects to relationships often have their own springs which progress into their own winters, honouring the uniqueness of each orbit around the sun is important too. Its a pertinent reminder not to assume things will be the same, to accept it’s all in flux and not to get too stuck in our ways. 

What’s something you’ve noticed particularly in 2023? 
We’re pondering why a lot of hawthorn blossom is mysteriously pink.  

Going back to predictability, all this said, if one of our team was abducted by aliens and kept on their space ship for some indeterminate length of time, deprived of any calendars or exposure to the planet’s weather, and then presented with a Barcombe salad bag, we think they would be able to make a pretty good stab at guessing the date. 

Speaking of salad, we’ve started adding agretti to the mix now, it’s possibly the meatiest green on the farm, succulent and minerally like its relative samphire. Named Barba di Frate (literally ‘Friar's Beard’) in Italy, its fleshy, needle-like leaves grow in tangles that look like they belong on the ocean floor.

In terms of what’s coming up in the boxes, we’ve grown hispi cabbages this year, which we’ll start picking next week. Initially they look like loose-leaved spring greens, but if you’re patient they hearten up and become densely packed cones of almost buttery goodness! Roasted hispi or ‘sweetheart’ wedges seem to be on menus everywhere at the moment, and whilst a hunk of cabbage might sound, to the uninitiated, like some indigestible horror an unwelcome vegetarian would be fobbed off with at a carnivorous barbecue, they’re actually somehow both sumptuous and satisfying. Tender and sweet in the middle and smokey and crispy on the edges they’ll convert any brassica haters! (But don’t forget, if you really do loathe something, let us know using your ‘Dislikes’ and ‘Likes’ list and if you’re having any trouble just give us a call, we’ll be happy to talk it through). Obviously cabbage doesn’t boast the protein content of meat so if you’re having it as the centre piece of your meal it’s a good idea to team it up with pulses and nuts. Phoebe’s favourite thing to do is serve the charred chunks on a butterbean-tahini mash with a lemon-Djion vinaigrette (top tip: roast the lemons alongside the cabbage) and maple-candied hazelnuts. 

By the end of the month we’re confident we’ll be able to include Barcombe cucumbers, fennel and green beans on the menu too. Exciting right!? At this moment they’re rather puny but it’s remarkable the growth spurts that can occur in a matter of hours, surely the equivalent of one of us suddenly sprouting another limb or producing an entire offspring overnight. (The two photos below were taken just days apart, can you see the subtle streaks of purple as well as just a few of our many, many ladybirds who help keep aphids in check?) 

The spring onions we promised last month (told you things are always up in the air!) are now less like skinny chives and more able to do their very special thing in Asian dishes, whether snipped over noodles or pad thai. We’re growing red ones and white ones and also what we call ‘bunching onions’ which form nice round bulbs you can use alongside the stems, or set aside and pickle. (Just peel off the very outer layer, generously salt and leave overnight then jar in malt vinegar and try and forget about them for at least a month before cracking them open).

If the summer doesn’t do a runner towards the end of June we will also have… drumroll…wait for it… BARCOMBE FRUIT! The figs and peaches in the glasshouses are looking very promising indeed and we watered the former with a wood-ash concoction which Adrian (who planted them) swears help the fragile skins survive transit without becoming a gooey-honey-smoosh before you’ve got them into your mouth. 

In terms of produce we’re sourcing from elsewhere, our long term supplier Metke at Bore Place has been delayed by the wet, cold spring so it’ll be a bit longer before we can offer his exceptional kohl rabi and county-renowned lettuces, but hopefully we’ll have new potatoes from Boathouse Farm in the meantime and we’re loving the first Spanish watermelons in addition to the stone fruit. Our first ripe peach since probably early September reminded us about the culinary legend (and ex Montessori teacher) Alice Waters provocatively serving a single, undoctored one as a dessert in her fancy restaurant. They truly don’t need anything doing to them, but do check out our recipe ideas if you’re feeling like something new. 

Lastly, with the rising cost of living it’s nice to remember some things are completely free and now is the time to forage elderflowers. Just one frothy head has the power to impart a beautiful floral flavour which is a bit pear-ish, maybe slightly lychee-y?! Use it to make kombucha, water-kefir or more traditional cordials and elderflower champagne. 

Thanks for reading, until next time! 

Ps. For any ardent parsleys lovers out there, we mean the the real fans that don't think dinner is complete without a final, liberal sprinkle of it, you will have noticed a lull in supply. We hope you haven’t been feeling too deprived… This pause is owing to the beds that provided for us all autumn and winter finally bolting, and their replacements still being a little feeble to handle any amputations. Currently to get one 40g portion we’d probably have to decapitate several metres of plants but rest assured they are steadily 
establishing themselves and in the meantime have you tried our summer savoury for a herby hit? 
Get in touch if this pause is causing undue suffering and maybe we’ll adjust our sowing plan accordingly.
Jesting aside, we obviously grow to meet demand so always welcome suggestions and feedback.