Not so prized potatoes

Memory flashback to the Queen’s silver jubilee, 1977. It’s the village fete, and I entered “best groomed pet” with my guinea pig Starsky (he lived in a hutch…). I put red, white and blue ribbons all over him and myself. The judge failed to appreciate my young child efforts and commented “decorations detract from the pet’s show-style”.

So I rushed home, in floods of tears, and prepared our mutt Sheba for the afternoon dog show instead. I didn’t know it at the time, but my mother went up to the judges and gave them a full two-barrel earful. Told them that “if my child didn’t get a single rosette in the afternoon events, she would make sure they never judged another show in Hertfordshire”. I came away with third, in “dog with the best expression”. That was the last show of any kind I ever had the courage to participate in.

So it was, with great trepidation, that I declared to my husband we should “See what is still growing” for this year’s fruit and veg show.

There has been allotment-banter about the show for a few months now… “I think my beans will be well past it”; “The heat has really affected my potatoes” and “My dahlias just aren’t that good this year.” We have secretly been giving our tomatoes some extra nourishment, and really thought we had a chance…

So, Friday arrives- the day before the show. And all entries must be submitted by 5pm. We picked, and we washed, and we even tried to polish our best tomatoes. I filled in the application. We were ready.

Saturday, and vegetables, fruit and flowers were packed up and off we went to the show. In the distance, we spot our prime allotment dahlia competitor coming out of the community hall. “Darn!” mutters my husband. “There goes our chance of winning anything with our decorative-dahlia entry.” We continue into the hall, take our submission cards for each of the categories I signed up for, and start to prepare our items.

And that’s where things start to go a bit wrong. I had ticked the wrong boxes on the application. No tomatoes, no cucumber, no wonky vegetable, wrong potato category, no single stem rose… My husband stuffs our dahlias into a jar and leaves with most of the vegetables I made him prepare for the show, as I try to make the best of the situation with our few remaining entries.

It is a serious, community-focused, yet overwhelmingly joyful, experience to participate in. A huge “thank you” must be given to its organisers, Lorna and Helena, who have persevered to deliver the show each year. As a grower, a nurturer, a “parent” of a garden, your plants spring from seeds and become adults and provide bounty for your family. You watch with slight envy as your fellow allotment holders seem to be able to nurture a carrot that simply doesn’t want to grow in your own plot.

You spend weeks working out how to win the war against multiple pests and diseases. Then you get overwhelmed with joy when you harvest your first berry, your first bean, your first new potato. You bless the wonderful neighbours who hoe and water when you need to be away and fret about the lack of rain.

So, admiration of all the entrants, of every size, colour and mix in the Rye fruit and veg show. It is truly a personal uplift of sharing and wonder: “How did he grow that so tall?” and “How did her stems grow so straight?” Pictures and paintings demonstrate incredible creativity and vision and in the delicious food section, “That looks and smells amazing!” It was a hall filled with the labour and love of fellow growers, all with their own stories of weeks of hard work.

Having said that, I still wanted to win. I did feel nervous, returning after 2pm to view the judge’s results. I pretended I hadn’t peeked at my own submissions, congratulating, instead, competitors who had received first prize in their various categories – until various people began saying to me, “Well done! You did it! You won a prize!” The mayor was there, to acknowledge the importance of this wonderful event in the Rye calendar. Prizes were handed out and individuals congratulated. Joy and laughter filled the hall.

And me? Well, my potatoes, as you can see, came third, given there were actually only two entries. But my soft fruit also got a third prize. So that is success? I got great feedback for next year- mostly about (lack of) presentation prowess…. I am secretly a bit chuffed, for entering anything, after my childhood jubilee experience. And if we HAD submitted our tomatoes and cucumber… I am sure I would have also received a 2nd prize too….

Image Credits: Abigail Cooper-Hansen .