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How to make the most of the barbecue spring

By: Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall

I've had my nose to the grindstone these last couple of months, finishing off a new book (wait and see — that's not what it's called, but it is the current answer to the question, 'What's it all about, Hugh?). Nonetheless, I've been taking plenty of little breaks from my office chair to spend some time out in the garden, planting, pruning and just generally filling my lungs with the rapidly warming air.

We've been blessed with some really gorgeous spring days already down here on the Devon/Dorset border. The orchard is in full blossom and the pond is heaving with frogspawn (though I haven't yet found a way to combine the two in a recipe). After such a long and genuine winter, it's been an absolute pleasure to be able to go outside in shorts and shirtsleeves these last few days.

[Useful: Why we need to return to the hand-packed lunch]

In my years as a fledgling vegetable gardener, I often found early spring to be a bit of a back-breaking time, as the ground has to be prepared for sowing and planting. That sometimes meant hours spent digging it over and working in muck to feed the soil and improve drainage. However, experience has led me towards a much less intensive form of ground-preparation. I favour the raised bed system, which means that I always 'work from the sides' and rarely if ever have to tread on the soil itself. This avoids compacting the earth into a solid layer and reduces the need to open it up again with a fork.

What's more, the latest thinking on digging is that doing it too enthusiastically can actually damage already healthy soil ecology. So, once my beds have undergone their initial preparation, I am inclined to pretty much let them be, simply laying on a good mulch of compost or well-rotted manure in the autumn, which will have been at least partially carried down into the soil by spring. You can add this soil-enriching layer now if you missed the autumn slot — but I'd recommend only digging it in relatively lightly before planting. Let the ground do its own groundwork, if you see what I mean. Keep the worms busy.

My spring harvest is bearing testament to the success of this approach, with leeks, pea and bean shoots (which are just as delicious as the legumes themselves) and tender salad leaves all going strong. I've even grabbed a couple of early-peeping asparagus spears, and nibbled the sweet tips raw.

The rhubarb is now abundant and, once cut; I'm very fond of poaching it gently with a little sugar and orange juice to make tender compote. Not only does this give us something delicious to enjoy with yogurt or ice cream, or bake into a crumble, but I can siphon off a little of that tangy pink juice for my favourite spring cocktail: the rhubarb Bellini.

Just pour a small measure of rhubarb syrup into a glass and top up with chilled fizz. This really rather elegant drink is just perfect for sharing on that first evening when you boldly decide to have a drink outside.

If you're brave enough to try that alfresco tipple, then it's only a short step to actually eating outdoors as well. I dusted down my own barbecue at the weekend to honour my first haul of mackerel of the year — it's about the earliest I've ever had them, so I take that as a harbinger of good things.

I like to spread a few bay leaves on the grill above the hot coals, and lay the fish over them; as they burn and smoke they impart the most sensational flavour to the fish. Apart from that it's just salt, pepper and a squeeze of lemon to serve.

Gill and the kitchen team at River Cottage HQ have also been barbecuing with great gusto. The way we see it, dry, clear weather is all that's required to enjoy cooking outdoors — it needn't be baking hot or super-sunny, we've all got jumpers after all! So marinated chicken and scallops have been gracing the grill at Park Farm, as well as the last, fat heads of our winter chicory, sliced in half lengthways, oiled and seasoned, and grilled until charred and wilted.

If you haven't tried chicory, or indeed compact lettuces, such as sweet little gems, cooked in this way, then I urge you to try it. It really is an exceptional way to enjoy them. Add some kind of alliums to the griddle, such as slender leeks or fat spring onions, for some contrasting flavour and texture. Then serve up with a trickle of good olive oil and a few shavings or crumbs of goat's cheese.

Never mind the barbecue summer, I say, let's not miss the barbecue spring…

Leek and Dorset Blue Vinny tart

Rhubarb fool

Lemon and orange squash