Fired up to grow your own? Then here's a little novelty

ANOTHER LIFE: IF EVER A SUMMER did a marketing job for the polytunnel industry, it was this one

ANOTHER LIFE:IF EVER A SUMMER did a marketing job for the polytunnel industry, it was this one. Even here on the west coast, mostly spared all but the gentlest Irish epithets for rain, it has taken the silvery crucible of plastic to focus what little was seen of the sun.

I think of novice gardeners in the east and south, fired up to grow their own for the first time, and trust that, somewhere in the back-garden alchemy of seed and soil, they have forged enough earthy optimism to carry them on to next spring.

A little novelty lifts morale. Quite the biggest plant in the tunnel just now – not the tallest one in my painting, which grew last year’s winter squashes, but towering almost as high and elbowing me aside with even bigger, softer, floppier leaves – is Smallanthus sonchifolius, otherwise yacon, the sweet underground “pear” of Peru.

“Pear” is one evocation, but this juicy tuber, growing in clusters the size of big baking potatoes, also offers the tang of early apple and crunch of watermelon, along with perhaps a hint of celery. As fruit or vegetable it has long been a thirst-quenching staple of the hardy Andean peasantry, and it seems as near as I am going to get, now, to seeing Macchu Piccu.

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Yacon was first brought to central Europe a few decades ago and trialled as a possible new fodder crop and alternative to sugar beet. Given its highland origins, a cooler outdoor climate made few problems, but a tunnel provides the regular watering and long growth season that ensures the biggest – sometimes phenomenal – yield per plant.

The tubers’ zingy flavours and “mouth appeal” should long ago have given yacon pride of place in more exotic restaurant salads, but problems of supply and life in storage have put a brake on its career. What could change that is promotion of yacon’s quite distinctive plant chemistry, offering sweetness without weight gain or raised blood sugar.

It is exceptionally high in fructo-oligosaccharides, a sugar low in calories and generally good for the digestion, and the juice can be concentrated into something temptingly close to honey or maple syrup. Thus, to quote one university research paper, it offers “nourishment with a high potential for diabetics and overweight and obese people” and certainly an improvement on the fattening American corn syrup that saturates so many processed foods.

Yacon is a favourite with Klaus Laitenberger, author of quite the best manuals so far for Irish vegetable gardening and “an experimenter by nature” in his tunnel in Co Leitrim. He once grew 100 different tomatoes and subjected every visitor to a taste test. (The sweet cherry Sungold came out best, and were the first to ripen for me this year.) It was his enthusiasm for yacon that had me cadging a few “seed” stem tubers, still most difficult to find. The few suppliers in the UK quickly sold out this year, so December, as the crop is lifted, may be the time to go searching online.

Klaus added, generously, a handful of another Andean tuber, Oxalis tuberosa, or oca, the highlanders’ most widely grown root crop after the potato. It is daylight sensitive, and at our latitude it needs polytunnel or greenhouse to give it the right length of season. It grows in low, bushy clumps, like wood sorrel, on the sunniest side of the tunnel, and I wait for the promised yellow flowers of late summer – this and the lemony tang of its tubers at the far end of the year.

The new Andean tubers (known, I suppose, since the Incas or before) continue the flow of edibles from South America that began with the potato and continued with sweetcorn and the tomato (which started out as a field weed of Mexican maize and beans). How few vegetables this small island had to begin with, according to Early Irish Farming, by Fergus Kelly, and apparently none that was native.

Gardens themselves were devised for the monasteries, mainly for medicinal herbs. Onions (which may have been garlic) were regular in the early Irish diet. Cabbage arrived from Britain, along with some rather crooked carrots. St Patrick miraculously turned some rushes into chives to cure a sick mother-to-be. Patrick was born far from mizuna, pak choi, komatsuna and the other oriental greens of today Irish foodie cuisine.

Dublin has little space for polytunnels, so the city's first free harvest festival, in Wolfe Tone Square on September 29th, will be a considerable triumph for growing your own outdoors. Vegetables, herbs and fruit raised in Dublin's 30 community gardens will be given away in return for promises of help and engagement with the green plots now springing up so successfully in waste spaces and parks in the city. The festival promises a big and happy family day, with lots going on. Details at dcg.ie.

Eye on nature

My neighbour found a caterpillar crawling on her drive. It was almost 100mm long, pinkish-yellow with a broad purple band down the back and a black head. It was quite aggressive and tried to bite when handled.

Colin Hamilton, Ballyvourney, Co Cork

From your photograph, it was the larva of the goat moth, which had emerged from the trunk of a tree where it had been feeding for up to five years. It was seeking a place on the ground to pupate.

I saw a flock of grey wagtails by the River Moy in Co Mayo. A few flittered over the water, or over a briar patch nearby. I counted three dozen sitting on a fence.

Adrian Kenny, Kiltimagh, Co Mayo

Pied wagtails, perhaps, as they flock and grey wagtails rarely do.

I saw two hooded crows flying over the Grand Canal on Mespil Road when one of them swooped down and took something from the water just like seagulls do.

MJ Burke, Phibsborough, Dublin 7

A newt came in through the back door and I brought it out to a nearby pond.

Niamh Mac Gowan, Blainroe, Co Wicklow

It had left the pond after breeding and intended staying on land until next breeding season.

Michael Viney welcomes observations at Thallabawn, Carrowniskey PO, Westport, Co Mayo, or email viney@anu.ie. Please include a postal address

Michael Viney

Michael Viney

The late Michael Viney was an Times contributor, broadcaster, film-maker and natural-history author