Allotment life is supposed to be relaxing — laid-back evenings basking in bucolic sunshine, gently whisking away young weeds and galloping gleefully around with a trug.

These moments will come, but, for me, it’s currently on a knife-edge. As I embark on my third year as a (part-time-holding-down-the-day-job) North London allotment holder, I am filled with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

Our disappointingly extended winter (this weekend I was hoeing wrapped in layers of woolies) has meant a slow start for me, as well as for the over-wintering crops like broad beans and onions.

On the plus side, the weeds aren’t invading with their usual fervour just yet. It feels as though everything is on the brink of coming to life, if only for a few rays of warm sunshine and a little less Arctic wind. I’m mentally prepared for things to take off, but I just haven’t been able to put the hours in because of the cold.

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Almost exactly this time last year, I was moaning about the freakish heat and the demands of extra hose duty. Little did I know that April was to be the extent of our summer. Perhaps this year we’ll have more of a textbook transition from April showers to May flowers and a bountiful harvest in July and August. Green fingers crossed.

My asparagus came early despite the weather. This is the first year I’ll actually be able to eat the spears, having carefully nurtured the crowns to their three-year-old coming of age. About five spears busted out of my pebbly clay with confidence two weeks ago, but were truncated to feebleness by several consecutive hard frosts (NOT supposed to happen in London in April).

This morning, about seven new magenta heads are peeking out, so by the end of next week I might have my first asparagus mini-bonanza, three years in the waiting. I’m also eagerly anticipating some healthy-looking early broad beans and masses of early garlic.

Whilst I wait for Spring proper, there’s still plenty going strong from last year which is filling the nightly dinner plate. I’ve got purple sprouting broccoli coming out of my ears — so much that, despite freezing a lot and eating even more, some of the tight purple florets have gone too far and bloomed into pale yellow blossoms, which is great news for bumblebees.

People have been telling me I look radiant lately, which must be down to the sheer quantity of superfood broccoli I’ve been consuming almost daily. Currently these giant plants are occupying about a quarter of the space of the entire plot and will soon have to go to make room for herbs, peas and beans.

My rocket has spread itself over a huge space as well. It went to seed long ago and boasts thousands of chocolate-flecked white flowers (which are highly edible by the way), but the leaves are still delicious, if a little leathery. This uber-plant was grown from seed passed on by my Swedish friend on the neighboring plot.

Before I rip this up to make room for leeks and lettuces, I will definitely take the time to save some of its seed for planting in a new space for this year’s crop. I’ve learned that it really pays to get top-notch seed. Rocket has to be one of the best value allotment choices, given that a 100g bag can set you back at least a couple of quid in the supermarket and tastes like a pale imitation. If all you’ve got is a window box or a patio pot, grow rocket. It just keeps going on and on and on…

I’ve even got some leeks left, a forest of toughening chard, reams of rhubarb and quite a bit of kale. As soon as the weather allows, it’s all heading for the cooking pot, freezer or compost bin (except the rhubarb) to make room for the crops of 2008, many of which are coming to life already in my kitchen windowsill.

I’ll be reporting weekly on what I’m growing and cooking, how I’m succeeding and failing, and what I’m championing and regretting. Meanwhile, I’m happy to take your questions and conundrums as well as tales from your own gardens, and kitchens too. For that’s where the real rewards lie — in the eating.

Now, time to get busy with more home germination as the tasks mount up for the Spring launch. Bring it on!

TIP OF THE WEEK: English asparagus is, without a doubt, the tastiest in the world. Enjoy it while you can, from the garden or farmers' market. If your asparagus is ready (spears should be 8-12 inches tall), cut it by gently digging with a knife below each spear and slicing it off about 2 to 4 inches underground. Steam, char-grill, roast or barbecue until bright green and just tender but still al dente.

SEASONAL RECIPE: Purple Sprouting Broccoli (or Asparagus) Hollandaise

Hollandaise sauce and fresh tender steamed PSB are a match made it heaven, and asparagus loves its company as well. This sauce is a cheat’s ticket to Nirvana and totally fool-proof.

Place 3 organic egg yolks, 2 Tbsp water and 2 Tbsp fresh lemon juice in the jar of a blender and secure the lid.

Place 150g salted butter, cut in cubes, in a saucepan over a very gentle flame. As soon as it is melted, take off the heat. Do not allow to cool.

Start the blender. Pour the hot melted butter through the feed tube gradually, resulting in a thick and creamy emulsion.

(If the sauce needs to be kept for a short time before use, it can be poured into a bowl, then set over a saucepan of hot water—not actively simmering, just hot—then covered to keep warm. It will solidify if refrigerated, and reheats successfully in a microwave.)

Serve with freshly steamed purple sprouting broccoli spears or asparagus. Makes 4 generous servings

www.celiabrooksbrown.com

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