The Hungry Gap

Funny that the much anticipated warmer, longer days of Spring bring with them a seasonal deprivation.

Stretching keenly towards the welcome sun, our winter-growing brassicas begin to sprout and spoil and the flowering that follows is the beginning of a period of paucity in the garden, while we wait for the later harvest of the broad beans.

Traditionally this “hungry gap” falls between April and May, but here in West Cork, it’s happening already. Those plants that have kept us going during the cold new year, kale, cabbage, cauliflower, purple sprouting broccoli have already begun to bolt skywards. A few more days and we won’t be able to use any of them.

In these meagre times it pays to look beyond our own cultivated gardens and out into nature’s backyard of roadsides, woods and coasts. A little weeding at this time throws up masses of wild cress, and the culinary world will soon get hot and excited at the sight of the first shoots of wild garlic. For there is nothing more healthful than to eat nature’s bitter greens when coughs and colds do their winter stalking.

There is a lot of discussion between gardener's and growers about how to bridge that hungry gap. And of course the answer is to behave like the squirrels and bury our harvest? LOL, not these days. In these times the answer is to air mile the bounty of those countries lucky enough to have the sun all year round. Hello green bean from Israel, potato from Cyprus, baby corn from Africa.

The result of this year-round bounty beamed in to a supermarket nearby is that our houses are no longer equipped to the task of thrifty hoarding that was the job in old times of the cellar, the cold room, or the barn.

When, for the last few years, we have been presented with the treasure that is our eight or so bags of CSA potatoes, we've struggled to find a place for them in our architect-designed, ultra-glazed, super-modern domicile.

This year, we’re putting that to right by repurposing a electrically-redundant deep freeze. According to the instructions of our CSA potato provider, John Dolan - a man who has made himself an expert on the issues of food security - we are housing the deep freeze now in our shed to keep it dry. In the unlikely event of a bumper crop of carrots from our garden (that has never happened yet, but we live in hope), we’ll fill fish boxes with sand and bury the carrots and other root crops, then make use of them next year as our garden prepares itself for summer season.

John Dolan advises that we make a wire mesh cover for the old chest freezer, and regularly open the door to let the air in. It will be a great store for the 2013 potatoes, when they come.


In the meantime, we’ve picked all the kale and we’re making a huge bag of kale crisps. And, casting an eye around to see what’s growing, nature itself suggests a great embellishment – seaweed.

Truthfully the Hungry Gap is just man-made angst, created in the mind of gardeners. Nature itself fills the gap. The sprouting of the brassicas, of course, is just the beginning of next year's harvest, and at the same time as the wild garlic begins to sprout in the woodland, we are also heading into a fabulous bounteous time on the seashore as the cold-loving kelps reach their full potential, and the sea kale begins to grow again.

Kale and Dilisk Crisps

Wash the kale and dry, first in a salad spinner, and then between kitchen paper. The leaves must be totally free of any water. Pull away the stalks, and place on a single layer on an oven tray. Cook one tray at a time. Drizzle over a couple of tablespoons of olive oil per tray, and about a teaspoon of salt. Add some dilisk that you have teased apart into single strands. Stop, to admire the colours, before massaging the oil and salt into the leaves, with your hands, so that everything is coated.

Cook for about 10 minutes in an oven set to 150ºC. Take the kale out when they still have the tiniest modicum of limpness. They'll finish crisping on the warm tray. Eat like crisps.