My search for the perfect veg from my greenhouse to the Cotswolds and even into orbit
Briefly

Mum gave the first one to me, fresh from her small greenhouse. Small, stubby, military green. Taken home, tasted, followed by a wide-eyed pause as I thought: OK, how did she do this? The cucumber had tasted like no other cucumber I'd known.
Gerald likes marrows larger than cats, onions the size of netballs. Each day begins in one of his four Cotswolds greenhouses. First thing that hits me is that lovely smell of warm soil, he says.
By 7am, he's tapping his plants, waking them up. Bothering strawberries, inhaling it all, enjoying that floaty atmosphere. And I'll touch one of the tomato plants, and that glorious tomato smell surrounds me.
Read at www.theguardian.com
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