War in the garden

I share an interest in my new vegetable garden with several others. I am the only human. Pigeons, dozens of rabbits, carrot flies, aphids and goodness knows what other creatures are celebrating the innocence I showed when planting out the seeds. What the rabbits have not dug up, they have eaten, while the pigeons’ beaks make any large leaves look as if they have been machine-gunned. The flies bring up the rear, hovering, fine-tuned to attack anything that is left..

You do not imagine, in the early months of spring, what lies in wait to dash your kitchen-garden dreams. Yet, now I am in the know, next year will be different. There will be a war, though one I intend to fight without committing a crime. That is, I am not tempted by the “promise in a bottle” products created to annihilate pests, not deter them.
I recently toured a garden of raised beds with writer and expert Susan Campbell, whose excellent A History of Kitchen Gardening has just been reissued (Unicorn Press, £20). Each bed was protected by a green netting fence, over which no rabbit could leap; fishing line was strung between upright canes to thwart pigeons. Campbell suspended “hawks” of childlike brilliance, made by sticking feathers into a potato.

Think of kitchen gardening within the Geneva Convention: use bio-controls, introducing predatory insects that will gobble the aphids; hang flashing DVD discs or bring in a scarecrow. For me, produce tastes better if fair play is employed, not chemical solutions.

This year, however, I can only celebrate with a small number of potatoes, miraculously free of blight, and some tomatoes, now safely ripening under glass. Lessons have been learned.

Tomato and  olive terrine
The bread for this recipe needs to hold its shape as the terrine sets, so use good artisan sourdough bread that is over a day old. It is also easier to slice this bread thinly. You will need a 20cm loaf tin, lined with a large piece of cling film.
1.5kg ripe plum or “beef” tomatoes
100g pitted black olives, cut lengthways into slivers
1 tsp capers, chopped
20 basil leaves, torn into pieces
100ml extra virgin olive oil
8-10 1cm thick slices crustless white sourdough
Sea salt and fresh ground black pepper
Fromage frais, to serve

Boil the kettle; nick each tomato with a knife and put in a deep bowl. Pour over boiling water and leave for two minutes, then drain and peel the tomatoes. Cut them in half, remove the pips, putting them in a sieve over a bowl to catch the juice. Chop the tomato flesh into 1cm dice and add to the juice with the olives, capers, basil and olive oil. Add salt to bring out the flavours, then pepper.

Trim the bread into 10cm squares and place two in the base of the lined loaf tin. Line the sides – you will need six slices for this – then ladle in some tomato mixture to secure them in place. Fill the tin nearly to the top of the bread pieces then place two slices on top. Bring the cling film over the top to wrap, and place in the fridge for four hours or overnight.

To take the terrine out of the mould, pull aside the cling film from the top, invert onto a flat plate and lift off the tin and rest of the cling film. The set terrine may sag a little, but will be refreshing eaten with fromage frais.