What a difference a few weeks make. This time a month ago the tanks were empty, the lawn was brown, trees were dropping leaves and the view from my office window looked more like Alice Springs than Hampton. Today, 170mm of rainfall later, the landscape is utterly transformed. Everything looks fresh and I sense a potency about the garden that was absent during the hot and dusty days of spring. Plants that were limp now appear desperate to grow and flower and fruit.
At times like this I itch to get outside between the showers and take a walk. In addition to checking the rain gauge I just have to see with my own eyes how much things have grown. I never cease to be amazed. Besides the lawn, which seems to have developed megalomaniac tendencies despite the attentions of the mower, the award for fastest growing plant of the last month has to go to the pumpkins.
This year we planted an heirloom Tuscan variety with a reputation for vigour. When I see that word in relation to pumpkins my response is one of hesitancy, because I know from previous experience that pumpkins are vigorous enough without having the attribute emphasised on a seed packet. So knowing I wouldn’t have the space in the veg garden we planted them out the front in generous patch of cultivated land that was sitting idle. I’ve come to the conclusion that ‘Marina de Chioggia’ is a romantic sounding name for a brute of a plant. They’ve gone berserk!
I should know better of course. Give a pumpkin free reign and it’ll start to resemble a giant octopus that spreads its tentacles across the lawn and over the fence, pulling down and swamping every plant in its path. I plant mine at least a couple of metres apart, and even then I’ll end up pruning off lots of tentacles. If you’re pushed for space, why not look to the heavens. Not necessarily for divine inspiration, but for precious vertical space that tends to get easily overlooked. All but the largest fruiting varieties will happily grow up a strong trellis, using very little space at ground level.
Like all members of the Cucurbitaceae family, which includes watermelon, cucumber and zucchini, pumpkin is an easy plant to grow from seed. I like to raise seedlings in the greenhouse where there’s protection from late frost, transplanting into the garden late in October for harvest in autumn. Sowing directly into the garden is just as viable. Just wait until the soil has warmed to about 20C. Being heavy feeders with a long growing season, rich conditions are appreciated but poor drainage won’t be tolerated – it’s a good idea to plant on a low mound built from a mix of soil and composted manure. Water frequently during dry weather and mulch.
Pollination can be hit and miss. Pumpkins are monoecious, producing male and female flowers on the one plant. Bees are the main pollinators, but if the weather’s too hot or cold, windy or wet, they can have trouble going about their business and fruit set may be poor as a result. This is where the gardener can pick up the slack. Start by identifying the male and female flowers (the females have an ovary like swelling at the base). Pick a male flower, remove the petals, and brush the pollen on the stigma of the female flowers. A bit trickier than sitting back watching a bee do its work but not much.
Cucurbits are particularly prone to powdery mildew. This is a fungus that spreads via spores, loves extended periods of humidity, and appears as a grey, powdery coating on the leaf surface. It’s hard to eradicate, but can be controlled organically by spraying EcoRose (potassium bicarbonate) or better still, a simple milk spray made from one part full cream milk to about 10 parts water. Apply to the entire plant once per week as a preventative. Avoid spraying the foliage when you water the plants, and water only in the morning to avoid damp foliage during the night.
I’m not that fussed on some of the other members of the cucurbit family – one can only eat so many zucchinis – but pumpkins are another story. They’re delicious and versatile. They’ll store beautifully for months, look nice sitting on a kitchen bench, and can be cooked in all sorts of ways. I prefer them roasted, but if you ask my six-year-old daughter what her favourite food is, she’ll probably reply “pumpkin soup”. Served on a winter’s night with a dollop of sour cream and crusty homemade bread, I’d be hard pressed to come up with an alternative.
First published in The Chronicle 9th January, 2010. Photo by Justin Russell.
