A season wrap-up: some highlights from our chefs

A basket of ripe tomatoes of every colour and shape, picked in the glasshouse — The tomato harvest, August

The clocks have gone back, the glasshouse is nearly bare and the kitchen garden has been put to bed for the winter, which seems as good a moment as any to look back over the year. Our two chefs grow what they cook, so the garden and the kitchen keep the same calendar; what follows is less a report than an album, with a few notes along the way.

The walled kitchen garden from the air in July: beds of vegetables and flowers, the fruit cage, the long glasshouse and the fields beyond — The kitchen garden in July, from the air

Spring arrived, as it does here, in fits and starts. There were hot cross buns for Easter and daffodils on the table, and the sourdough never stopped. The first green things of the year were picked as much for the relief of seeing them as for anything else.

A tray of glazed hot cross buns among spring flowers — Hot cross buns, Easter

A ring cake with a pale glaze and candied orange, beside a jug of daffodils — A cake for the table, with the first daffodils

A loaf of sourdough bread, scored and baked, beside its proving basket — Sourdough from the kitchen

A plate of green fern fiddleheads, tightly curled — The first green things of the year

By June the garden had rather got away from us, in the best sense. Peas and purple-podded beans came in by the trayful, the strawberries ripened on their straw, and the chives and alliums put on their annual show. Courgette flowers were picked in the morning and stuffed by lunchtime; the blackcurrants went into everything. One of the chefs' happier experiments was a syrup made from green pine cones, which tastes of the woods in a way that is hard to describe and easy to like.

A tray of freshly picked peas and purple-podded beans held in the garden — Peas and beans, straight from the row

Strawberries ripening on straw — Strawberries under the straw

Orange courgette flowers in a basket — Courgette flowers, picked in the morning

A cluster of blackcurrants on the bush — Blackcurrants

Small green pine cones gathered on a wooden table — Green pine cones, for a syrup

A tall jar of layered pickled vegetables with a patty-pan squash and a bowl of herbs — Pickles for the winter

High summer belonged to the tomatoes. The glasshouse produced them in every colour and shape we had sown, and a good many we had not expected, and for several weeks the baskets came up to the kitchen twice a day. Roasted with thyme and very little else, they needed no help. The peaches on the wall ripened at the same time, which felt like showing off.

A wooden crate heaped with tomatoes of every colour — The crate at the end of the day

A dish of tomatoes roasted with thyme — Roasted with thyme, and very little else

A bowl of ripe peaches on a wooden table — Peaches from the wall

A quiche on a patterned plate, with herbs and flowers on top — A quiche from the garden

Aubergines, pears, tomatoes and herbs gathered on the kitchen table — An afternoon's picking on the kitchen table

A large cauliflower held up in the kitchen garden — A cauliflower, and the glasshouse behind

Autumn brought the glass gem corn, grown half for the table and half for the sheer pleasure of shucking it, a fine cep from the woods, the first apples from the young trees, and squash ripening on the beds. In the kitchen the puddings came into their own, among them a cake made with blackcurrant leaves that has become something of a house speciality.

A cep held up against a hedge — A cep from the woods

An orange squash on the vine — Squash, ripening

Marigolds and nasturtiums in flower among the vegetable beds — Marigolds and nasturtiums among the beds

A jar of blackcurrant leaf cake mix tied with a green ribbon, beside a slice of the cake — Blackcurrant leaf cake

A green ring cake scattered with flowers — A cake of garden herbs

A chocolate pudding on a green-and-white plate — Chocolate, with hazelnuts

A dish of roasted aubergines with chilli oil — Aubergines from the glasshouse

None of this happens by itself, and we are grateful to our chefs for a year of good things, and to everyone who helped in the garden. The beds are mulched, the seed catalogues have arrived, and the first order has already gone in. We shall write about next year's garden open days, and what we hope to show you, in the new year.

A spaniel looking out from between the vegetable beds — Supervision