A superior herbal vintage

It’s a bit of a battle, in our London garden, between the slugs, snails, squirrels, cats and foxes. Wildlife in the raw, you could say. The children love all our visitors as much as I loathe them; my experience of surburban gardening is all about tender plants being chewed to the ground, bulbs dug up, and strawberries never getting a chance to ripen before before being picked off by the squirrel brothers. But I’ve discovered that herbs tend to be avoided.

I ordered a pack of plugs from Dobies of Devon, planted them out in old wine boxes studded with holes and lined with bin liners, and all is a-growing. I’ve snipped chives into potato salads, whipped up deliciously herby salad dressings, jazzed up fish pies with two different kinds of parsley and stuffed chickens with thyme. It’s all very low maintenance, and the children’s attention span is long enough to withstand a daily five-minute watering session, particularly when it’s sunny and they get to spray themselves with the sprinkler.

Ask at a local wine merchant for empty boxes (or buy ‘em full and see  how quickly you can drink the contents!). It’s a good life, I tell you.