Urban summer. Growing plants in the city is possible indeed. And frankly, quite rewarding.
I myself grow flowers in small pots outside my ground floor flat window. I chose flowers that remind me of Poland: night-scented stock, poppies, mayweed, pansies. Planting them here, in England, bings home a bit closer. Funnily enough, two of four seed packs I got from my mum were so-called śmierdziuszki (which translates as ‘little stinkers’), or marigolds, orange and yellow flowers grown in many countryside front gardens in Poland. Their smell is rather musky and not especially pleasant, hence the Polish nickname. I planted the seeds a while ago, I still don’t know if my śmierdziuszki will be a success this year.
I already have maciejka (hoary stock) outside my window, though. A flower which comes alive at night: it opens up at nightime, releasing sweet, strong aroma. I like to leave the window open for the night, so I can smell the flowers from my bed. Cheesy, probably, but how nice.
Due to the lack of space, I can’t unfortunately grow food. If I had a balcony or a kitchen which is not a dungeon, like mine, I’d definitely grow herbs, at least. Growing up eating my mum’s homegrown vegetables has left me forever hungry for real food: vegetables grown in a home garden, which required constant care (my 7-year old self was not keen on gardening at all), and attention from seed to harvest. Growing your own food is rewarding in million ways; it feeds you, teaches you patience, encourages you to spend more time outdoors. Plus, it brings your attention to the problem of food waste. You know, you wouldn’t probably throw out a perfectly fine but ugly-shaped tomato again, if you had tried growing it yourself. .
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Cherries.
As a child, I was not very fond of cherries. I preferred summer cherries (in Polish called czereśnie), as they were ripe earlier than cherries, and their fruits were much sweeter. The only downside was, that czereśnie fruits were often home to little worms, white and quite disgusting-looking (at least for me). There was no eating sweet summer cherries without opening them up first and thoroughly inspecting for the worm presence. Still, czereśnie eating and czereśnie stones spitting competitions were a highlight of every kid’s summer in my village.
Cherries on the other hand, are sour and hardly ever have any parasites in their fruit. Eating freshly picked, raw cherries is still something I am learning. Polish cherries are not even remotely similar (flavour-wise) to cherries sold in UK’s supermarkets. Polish cherries are sour, so sour it’s difficult to eat them without one’s face disagreeing with the sudden flavour explosion.
My mum always used to make cherry compotes and jams. And, in my opinion, cherry jam is the most fabulous thing to have for a lazy summer breakfast. Piece of fresh bread, some butter, and cherry jam, with it’s remarkable zingy sweetness.
Can’t wait! .
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