Digging for victory again
It seems to me that there is no end the massive enthusiasm which began to rise to surface a decade or so (possibly longer) for local food. I cant stand the weeding investment required. This latest extolling of the virtues of local growth tells us:
Here at Pig Row, our cottage small hamlet on top of the Pennines, we are recreating a wartime garden. Carol, Little D (our toddler) and I are turning back the clock to 1943 to the crops our great grandparents sowed. The food we’ll harvest and eat will follow Second World War recipes and hark back to an age when empty jam jars were saved to be filled.
As a child I remember finding my way into the larder of my great aunt’s kitchen and seeing shelf after shelf of pickled beetroot and beans; a harvest festival in a terrace. For the first time in 70 years there will be ‘Fat Lazy Blondes’ on our kitchen table; this lettuce variety won’t be found in the supermarket. The ‘Manchester Turnip’ is going to be in our first woolton pie.
Still leaves me pondering are allotments the answer to global poverty? But then even if they and the sort of gardening profiled here arent, I dont see that they do much harm!!