‘I FEEL A LITTLE BIT like some fundamentalist,” admits Mark Diacono with a laugh. “I won’t grow anything unless it is edible. Occasionally I’ll see something that’s not, and I’ll go: ‘That’s quite nice looking . . .’ and then: ‘Stop it!’ ” – and he promptly extinguishes the sinful thought.
Diacono, who lives with his wife and four-year-old daughter on the 17-acre, organically-certified Otter Farm in east Devon, has been growing food for only eight years. “I got into this, not through a love of plants, but just by being a greedy git, and not being able to buy some of the things I wanted to eat.” These included the forgotten fruits of mulberries, medlars and quinces; nuts such as pecans and almonds; and Mediterranean fruits including apricots and peaches.
He refers to his smallholding as “the UK’s only climate change farm”. He is attempting to exploit the current rise in temperatures by planting crops that were previously too tricky to try in Britain. He also believes in cutting down on food miles and carbon emissions by growing his own apricots, olives and grapes, rather than eating imported ones.
Diacono’s enthusiastic optimism brought him to the attention of food crusader Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. He began to teach growing courses at Fearnley-Whittingstall’s River Cottage, and before long was appointed head gardener there. He has appeared on the River Cottage Channel 4 TV series, and his book, Veg Patch: River Cottage Handbook No 4, was named Practical Book of the Year at last year’s Garden Media Guild Awards in London.
This year sees the publication of his second work, A Taste of the Unexpected, which focuses on 38 edible plants that should be better known. For those who are puzzled by the possibilities of unconventional foods such as daylily flowers, oca and Carolina allspice, the author has included recipes (developed by Debora Robertson), as well as growing instructions.
On his own Otter Farm, Diacono has planted dozens of unusual crops: some are in small amounts, for his family, while others – olives and Szechuan pepper, for example – are in quantities that may prove commercial in the coming years.
The pepper, which is used in Asian cooking, belongs to the Zanthoxylum genus, which is unrelated to either black pepper or chillies. It is one of the ingredients in Chinese five-spice powder. It is numbing and tingling, rather than hot. The little pods should be approached with caution, especially when fresh. “Just a teeny nibble of a quarter of a pepper is plenty,” cautions Diacono. “It’s like your tongue has turned into a melting, lemon-flavoured ice-lolly. As soon as you introduce them to someone, they say: ‘Why doesn’t everyone grow them?’ They smell brilliant. My favourite is Zanthoxylum schinifolium, which is more citrussy and old-school pepper-like.”
Another unorthodox food is autumn olive or Japanese silverberry (Elaeagnus umbellata), a large, deciduous shrub that produces fragrant flowers followed by small, pinky-purple orbs. They are slow to ripen, but when they do, they make excellent jam material, says Diacono. They are also loaded with lycopene, an antioxidant phytochemical. The plants “grow like the clappers”, don’t mind sea breezes, and help fix nitrogen in the soil. While perhaps not suitable for a small garden, they are a perfect shelter-belt plant, especially for those in coastal areas.
Diacono also grows fuchsias for their berries. One of the best kinds for eating is F. magellanica, he says – the one that has naturalised around much of the southwest of Ireland. His book includes a recipe for fuchsia fruit leather – something you’re not likely to encounter anywhere else.
Some of the plants this east Devon farmer grows are recent discoverys. Take the South American yacon tuber (Smallanthus sonchifolius), a relative of the Jerusalem artichoke. “You bite this thing, and it’s like a pear, but with a texture that is somewhere between a pear and a water chestnut.” The fact that it grows beneath the soil makes it all the more exciting. “I’ve got quite an attachment to the underground stuff, because it is quite unglamorous. I think the yacon is quite amazing.”
Many of Diacono’s unexpected foods are perennial, which makes them suitable for forest gardens, or for allotments where the owner is unable to visit frequently. And, while some crops are on the tender side, most should do well in all but the chilliest parts of Ireland. (Devon, being warmer and moister than most of Britain, is not unlike our own island.) Some crops may need protection from late frosts, and a prime, sheltered spot in the garden, but the resulting produce can be magical.
Diacono’s message is, don’t bother with the spuds and onions, because “nice as they are” you can get them in the shops. Instead, he urges, just try one or two things that are unbuyable, as it “dilutes your reliance upon shops”.
More importantly though is that “it is a mind changer. It opens the door to your brain, and your brain opens the door to your kitchen. It just gets you inquisitive.”
A Taste of the Unexpectedby Mark Diacono is published by Quadrille (£20)
