ABOUT ME

Hi I’m Paul.

I’m a dedicated No Dig Method allotment owner, passionate about vegetable and fruit growing, nature lover committed to a sustainable lifestyle.

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LATEST STORIES

• 
  Rhubarb CurdAugust 31, 2026

  A Delicious Way to Use a Rhubarb Glut 🌿🥄

  There comes a point in the season when the rhubarb starts taking over the freezer. You know the drill. You pick it, chop it, freeze it and feel incredibly smug about your future self having bags of homegrown produce tucked away.

  Then your future self opens the freezer and thinks, right… what am I actually going to do with all this rhubarb? 😂

  Well, here’s another answer: rhubarb curd.

  I’d never made rhubarb curd before, but this little experiment turned out brilliantly. It’s rich and buttery, with that unmistakable rhubarb tang, and once chilled it develops a gorgeous thick, silky texture.

  Even better, I made mine using previously frozen rhubarb, so this is a cracking recipe for working through the plot stash long after the stalks have been harvested.

  Why Rhubarb Curd?

  We tend to reach for the same recipes when there’s rhubarb to use. Crumbles, pies, jams and perhaps a bottle or two of something boozy.

  Nothing wrong with any of those, obviously!

  But curd gives rhubarb an entirely different lease of life. Think lemon curd’s slightly earthier allotment cousin.

  It’s lovely on toast, crumpets and scones, but you can also swirl it through yoghurt, spoon it over porridge, use it between sponge cakes or fold it through whipped cream for a ridiculously easy pudding.

  Frozen Rhubarb Works Brilliantly

  My rhubarb had been frozen and then defrosted before making the curd.

  Once rhubarb freezes, the structure breaks down and it releases quite a bit of liquid when thawed. For this recipe that’s actually rather handy.

  Don’t drain that juice away.

  It’s packed with rhubarb flavour, so the whole lot goes into the saucepan. Because of that extra liquid, there’s also no need to add any water.

  Homemade Rhubarb Curd

  Makes approximately 2 x 300ml jars

  Ingredients

  • 600g defrosted rhubarb, including all the juice
  • 200g caster sugar
  • 125g unsalted butter, cubed
  • 3 large eggs
  • 2 large egg yolks
  • 1 tsp vanilla bean paste

  Method

  Put the rhubarb and all of its defrosting juices into a saucepan.

  Cook gently for around 10–15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the rhubarb has completely collapsed.

  Now here’s where I departed from the more traditional curd method.

  Rather than pushing the cooked rhubarb through a sieve, I simply blitzed the whole lot into a smooth purée.

  It worked brilliantly. You retain the whole fruit and its fibre, there’s less faffing about and, judging by my finished jar, you certainly don’t sacrifice that lovely smooth texture.

  Into the Water Bath

  Put a small amount of water into a saucepan and bring it to a very gentle simmer.

  Place a heatproof bowl over the saucepan, making sure the bottom of the bowl doesn’t touch the water.

  Add the rhubarb purée, caster sugar, butter and vanilla to the bowl.

  Stir gently until the butter has completely melted and everything is combined.

  Adding the Eggs

  In a separate bowl, whisk together the 3 whole eggs and 2 additional yolks.

  Gradually pour the beaten eggs into the warm rhubarb mixture while whisking continuously.

  Now keep the water underneath at a gentle simmer and stir the curd regularly.

  Don’t be tempted to whack the heat up. We’re making rhubarb curd, not sweet rhubarb scrambled eggs. 😂

  After around 10–15 minutes, you’ll notice the mixture becoming thicker and silkier.

  If you’re using a food thermometer, you’re looking for approximately 80–82°C.

  It should coat the back of a spoon, but don’t worry if it still looks slightly looser than you’d expect from a jar of curd.

  It thickens considerably as it chills.

  Into the Jars

  Spoon the hot curd into clean, sterilised jars and seal.

  Allow the jars to cool before transferring them to the fridge.

  This is important: rhubarb curd isn’t a shelf-stable preserve. It contains butter and eggs, so even though we’ve used sterilised jars, it needs to be kept refrigerated.

  I’d aim to eat it within 1–2 weeks, using a clean spoon each time. For longer storage, it can also be frozen in a suitable freezer container for around three months.

  The Verdict

  Once properly chilled, there was only one sensible way to test it.

  Toast.

  The result? A definite keeper. 🥄

  The rhubarb flavour comes through beautifully, the vanilla softens some of its sharper edges and the butter and eggs transform it into something much richer than jam.

  I also really like the fact that blending rather than sieving means we’re not removing all that fruit pulp.

  There is, however, already a Batch #2 brewing in my head.

  I’m thinking rhubarb and lemon. Not enough lemon to overpower the rhubarb, just enough zest and juice to brighten everything up.

  That’s the trouble with growing your own food. One experiment inevitably plants the seed for another. 🌱😂

  Rhubarb Curd

  600g rhubarb | 200g sugar | 125g butter | 3 eggs | 2 yolks | vanilla

  Simple ingredients, homegrown produce and another bag of rhubarb successfully liberated from the freezer.

  I’ll call that a plot win. 🌿🥄

• 
  Blackcurrant Firecracker Sauce 🌶️🫐August 9, 2026

  Fruity and spicy !

  From leftover jelly pulp to a fiery little bottle of Lottie magic

  There’s something particularly satisfying about making one thing from the allotment and then realising the leftovers can become something completely different.

  That’s exactly how my Blackcurrant Firecracker Sauce was born.

  After making a batch of blackcurrant jelly, I was left staring at a big bowl of cooked blackcurrant pulp. It had already given me its beautiful juice, but there was still loads of flavour sitting there. Chucking it on the compost heap seemed criminal.

  So rather than waste it, I decided to give those blackcurrants another job.

  And what a second career they’ve had! 🌶️🔥

  The result is a gorgeous deep burgundy sauce that’s fruity and tangy, with smoky spices and a lovely chilli warmth creeping in behind the blackcurrants.

  Even better, the dried chillies came from a previous allotment harvest too. This really is one of those recipes where the Lottie pantry raids itself.

  ---

  Why use the leftover blackcurrant pulp?

  When making jelly, we strain the cooked fruit to extract the juice, but that doesn’t mean the remaining pulp is flavourless.

  Far from it.

  There’s still fruit, fibre and plenty of that unmistakable sharp blackcurrant character left behind.

  Normally it might head for the compost heap. Instead, this recipe combines it with red pepper, onion, apple, herbs, spices and chilli to create an entirely new preserve.

  One blackcurrant harvest. Two completely different products.

  That’s my sort of allotmenteering.

  ---

  Lottie’s Blackcurrant Firecracker Sauce

  Makes: approximately 3 sauce bottles, depending on how far you reduce it.

  Ingredients

  • 500g leftover blackcurrant pulp from making jelly
  • 2 large red peppers, about 300g, roughly chopped
  • 1 large onion, diced
  • 10–15g dried chillies
  • 1 medium cooking apple, about 150g, peeled and grated
  • 300ml cider vinegar, 5% acidity
  • 3 tbsp tomato purée
  • 60g soft brown sugar
  • 1 tbsp honey, optional
  • 2 tsp garlic granules
  • 1 tsp smoked paprika
  • 1 tsp sweet paprika
  • ½ tsp ground cumin
  • 1 tsp freshly ground black pepper
  • 1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
  • 2 sprigs fresh thyme
  • 2 tbsp finely chopped fresh oregano
  • 1 tbsp rapeseed oil
  • 1 tsp Chiu Chow chilli oil
  • 1 tsp homemade basil salt, or to taste

  ---

  First, wake up those dried chillies 🌶️

  Put the dried chillies into a heatproof bowl and cover them with boiling water.

  Leave them for around 20 minutes to soften.

  Don’t automatically throw that soaking water away. It takes on some lovely chilli flavour and can be used later to loosen the sauce if your blackcurrant pulp makes it particularly thick.

  Remove the chilli stalks and roughly chop the softened chillies.

  ---

  Making the sauce

  Heat the rapeseed oil in a large saucepan or preserving pan over a medium heat.

  Add the onion and red peppers and gently cook for around 10 minutes, until they’re lovely and soft.

  Add the rehydrated chillies and cook for another couple of minutes.

  Now stir in the garlic granules, smoked paprika, sweet paprika, cumin and tomato purée.

  Cook everything together for around 2 minutes. This little fry wakes up the spices and takes the raw edge off the tomato purée.

  Next add the blackcurrant pulp, grated apple, cider vinegar, brown sugar, honey if using, Worcestershire sauce, thyme, oregano and black pepper.

  Bring everything up to a gentle simmer.

  Cook uncovered for around 35–40 minutes, giving it a stir every now and again so nothing catches on the bottom.

  Your kitchen should smell rather magnificent by this point.

  ---

  Time for the blitz

  Fish out the thyme stalks, then blitz everything with a stick blender until beautifully smooth.

  You can pass it through a fine sieve if you want a particularly silky sauce, but I rather like keeping as much of that blackcurrant goodness in there as possible.

  Return it to the pan and simmer gently until you’ve got the consistency you want.

  Remember that the sauce will thicken slightly as it cools, so don’t take it too far.

  If yours becomes particularly thick, add some of that reserved chilli soaking liquid a tablespoon at a time until you’ve got a lovely pouring consistency.

  Finally, stir through the Chiu Chow chilli oil and homemade basil salt.

  Have a taste.

  You’re looking for that lovely little sequence of blackcurrant first, sweet and smoky in the middle, chilli arriving afterwards. 🔥

  ---

  Into the bottles

  Sterilise suitable sauce bottles or jars and fill them while both the containers and sauce are hot, following proper hot-fill preserving practice.

  And this is where the transformation becomes particularly satisfying.

  That bowl of leftover purple pulp suddenly becomes three gorgeous bottles of deep ruby Blackcurrant Firecracker Sauce.

  Not bad for something heading towards the compost heap.

  ---

  How do I use Blackcurrant Firecracker Sauce?

  This isn’t just something to splodge next to your chips.

  Try it with sausages, burgers, pork steaks, grilled chicken or halloumi. Brush it over chicken wings towards the end of cooking, stir some through pulled pork, or use it as a fruity glaze on the barbecue.

  One of my favourites is simply mixing a spoonful through mayonnaise. You get a creamy blackcurrant chilli mayo that’s ridiculously good in a burger.

  And blackcurrant loves mature Cheddar, so get some into a cheese toastie and thank me later. 😏🌶️

  ---

  A little note about preserving

  Because acidity and density can vary significantly when you’re using leftover fruit pulp, I wouldn’t claim a fixed 12-month room-temperature shelf life for this homemade recipe without using a properly tested canning recipe or checking the finished product appropriately.

  For the safest home approach, keep the finished sauce refrigerated, use clean sterilised bottles, and freeze any excess you won’t use reasonably quickly.

  That’s one bit of the original recipe I’d tighten up before publishing it. A boiling-water bath doesn’t automatically make an untested sauce shelf-stable.

  ---

  Nothing wasted on Lottie 🌱

  This might be my favourite part of the whole recipe.

  The blackcurrants were grown, harvested and turned into jelly. The juice became one preserve, while the leftover fruit became another.

  Even some of the heat came from chillies grown and dehydrated from an earlier harvest.

  That’s what growing your own is about for me. It isn’t simply picking something and eating it. It’s learning how to grow it, cook it, preserve it and squeeze every last delicious possibility out of it.

  The compost heap can have plenty of other things.

  It wasn’t getting my blackcurrants.

  Welcome to the Lottie pantry, Blackcurrant Firecracker Sauce. 🌶️🫐🔥

• Bonkers Rhubarb FactApril 14, 2026

• 
  🍏 Apple Muffins – Straight from the PlotNovember 5, 2025

  There’s something properly comforting about baking with apples from your own trees. After a morning on Lottie, with the last of the autumn wind tugging at your jumper, there’s no better smell than cinnamon, apple, and warm muffin dough drifting from the kitchen. These are the kind of muffins that make you stop what you’re doing, stick the kettle on, and just breathe in the season.

  They’re simple, wholesome, and a great way to use up those apples that are a bit too wonky for the fruit bowl. I’ve kept the recipe stripped back — no seeds, no fuss, just that proper soft crumb and a juicy apple bite in every mouthful.

  If you fancy a little twist, you could finish them with a whisper of your mint salt over the top (trust me, it sounds mad but works). Or swap in a few chopped walnuts for a crunch if you’ve got some lying about.

  🍏 Apple Muffins

  Makes: 12 large muffins

  Prep time: 15 minutes

  Bake time: 20–25 minutes

  Ingredients

  2 medium apples (peeled, cored and finely diced) 150g plain flour 100g rolled oats 100g soft brown sugar 2 tsp baking powder 1 tsp ground cinnamon ½ tsp mixed spice (optional) Pinch of salt (or a hint of your mint or basil salt for fun) 2 large eggs 100ml rapeseed oil 100ml milk (or live yoghurt for a gut-friendly version) 1 tsp vanilla extract

  Method

  Preheat the oven to 180°C (fan 160°C) and line a 12-hole muffin tin with large muffin cases. In a large bowl, mix together the flour, oats, sugar, baking powder, cinnamon, mixed spice and salt. In a jug, whisk the eggs, oil, milk (or yoghurt) and vanilla until smooth. Combine the wet and dry mixes gently, just until no streaks of flour remain. Fold in the diced apple. Spoon the mixture evenly into the muffin cases and, if you fancy, sprinkle a few extra oats on top for that rustic look. Bake for 20–25 minutes, until risen, golden and springy to the touch. Cool on a wire rack, or don’t wait at all and eat one warm with a bit of butter and a hot brew.

  🌿 From the Plot

  I used apples straight from Lottie, but shop-bought Bramleys or Cox’s work just as well. You can even mix varieties for a balance of sweet and tart. These muffins freeze brilliantly too, just pop one in the microwave for 30 seconds when you fancy a warm treat.

  There’s a quiet joy in baking something so simple yet satisfying. It’s that moment when the kitchen smells like autumn and the world slows down a bit. If you try this recipe, tag me or drop a comment on the blog, I love seeing what everyone’s baking with their own harvests.

• 
  🍞 Bara Brith — The Speckled Loaf with SoulOctober 28, 2025

  Every so often, a recipe lands on the kitchen counter that feels like it’s always belonged there. For me, Bara Brith or “speckled bread” as it translates from Welsh is one of those quiet, comforting bakes that never shouts for attention but fills the house with that deep, nostalgic scent of spice, fruit, and warmth.

  It’s the kind of loaf that feels like a hug from someone’s nan sturdy, proud, and best served thickly sliced with a good smear of butter.

  🌿 My Lottie Version

  Because I can’t resist putting a little allotment twist on everything, I’ve added a tiny pinch of my mint salt to the mix just enough to lift the sweetness and make the fruit pop. You could just as easily try basil salt, or even a brush of lemon verbena syrup over the top while it’s still warm if you want a bit of shine and perfume.

  It’s a simple batter, tea-soaked fruit, brown sugar, self-raising flour, mixed spice, and an egg to bind it all. Into the oven it goes until the kitchen smells like Sunday afternoons and old cookbooks.

  Once cooled, I always slice it thick, spread it generously with butter, and make a proper cup of tea on the stove kettle. (Yorkshire, naturally.)

  🕰 A Little Heritage

  Now, if we’re talking true bara brith heritage, this loaf’s Welsh ancestors were made with yeast and butter, more of a rich fruit bread than a tea loaf. The yeasted version is slower, takes a good rise, and is often glazed with honey once baked. It’s the sort of bake that tells you to slow down and enjoy the process, kneading, waiting, and watching the dough puff up like it’s got a story to tell.

  Over time, as home baking became quicker and tea became the heart of the British kitchen, the yeasted loaf gradually gave way to the version we know today, tea-soaked, easy-going, and ready for a good slather of butter without any waiting around for dough to rise.

  So whether you call it Bara Brith or Tea Loaf, the soul of it’s the same: a celebration of patience, frugality, and good flavour, the sort of bake that makes use of what’s already in your cupboard.

  🍵 Serve It Your Way

  I love mine mid-morning down at Lottie, a cup of tea freshly brewed on the stove kettle by my side, watching the robins dart between the cabbage beds. There’s something about that soft slice of spiced fruit loaf that feels like it connects you to generations of thrifty, clever bakers who knew how to stretch a handful of ingredients into something special.

  📝 Bara Brith Recipe (Non-Yeasted Tea Loaf Style)

  Ingredients

  300 ml strong hot tea (Yorkshire or Earl Grey)

  300 g mixed dried fruit (sultanas, raisins, currants — whatever you’ve got)

  100 g soft brown sugar

  1 large egg 225 g self-raising flour

  1 tsp mixed spice Pinch of salt (or a tiny pinch of your mint or basil salt for Lottie magic)

  Method

  Soak the fruit Pop the dried fruit into a bowl, pour over the hot tea, and stir in the sugar. Cover and leave overnight (or at least 6 hours) for the fruit to plump up. Preheat the oven 170°C (fan 150°C). Line a 2 lb loaf tin with baking paper. Mix it up Beat the egg and stir it into the soaked fruit (don’t drain it). Add the flour, mixed spice, and salt, folding gently until smooth. Bake Spoon the batter into the tin, level the top, and bake for 1 hour–1 hour 10 minutes. Test with a skewer , it should come out clean. Cool and serve Cool in the tin for 10 minutes, then lift out to cool fully. Slice thickly and serve with butter, maybe a drizzle of honey, and a cup of tea made on the Lottie stove kettle.

  💡 Lottie Tips:

  Add chopped walnuts or pumpkin seeds for a nutty crunch and a testosterone-friendly boost. Brush the warm loaf with a little lemon verbena syrup for shine and extra aroma. Store in an airtight tin — keeps well for several days, if it lasts that long!