
There is a particular satisfaction in carrying a basket of runner beans in a container you cut, soaked and wove yourself. Willow has been the hedgerow's gift to the kitchen garden for centuries, and for good reason. A well-made willow basket is light, kind to the forearm, and holds its shape for a decade or more with a little care. It breathes, so produce inside it does not sweat the way it does in a plastic trug. It carries kindling, grass clippings and windfall apples with equal good humour. And when a rod finally gives way, you can thread in a replacement rather than consign the whole thing to the tip.
You do not need a willow bed to start. A bundle of dried withies from a growers' stall at a county show will make one good basket, and you can decide afterwards whether to plant a few stools of your own in that damp corner behind the shed.
Not all willow weaves alike, and the variety you choose shapes how the basket behaves in the hand. For a sturdy harvest basket, look for rods that are long, straight and free of side shoots.
For a basket roughly 35cm across and 25cm deep, you want around sixty rods of 90cm to 1.2m, plus a handful of thicker, stouter rods for the stakes that form the skeleton. Sort them into bundles by length and thickness before you begin; the weaving goes twice as quickly when you are not rummaging.
Dried willow is brittle as a dry twig and will snap in your hands. It needs to be brought back to suppleness, and the old rule of thumb still serves: one day submerged in water for every foot of length. A 1m withie wants three or four days. Use a water butt, a cattle trough or an old bath, and weigh the bundle down with a brick so it stays under.
Drain the rods afterwards and wrap them in damp hessian or a bin bag overnight. This mellowing lets moisture even out along the length of the rod, so it bends without cracking. Test one by squeezing it into a curve: it should flex like thick leather, not creak or split. Willow that is too wet will shrink and rattle loose as the basket dries; willow that is too dry will break your patience along with the rod. Freshly cut willow can be woven straight away, and if you cut your own in winter while the sap is down, keep the bundles under cover and damp.
You need very little, but the little you need should be sharp and within reach.
Work at waist height with the base weighted on a board or your knees. Weaving bent over a low table is the quickest route to an aching back and a crooked basket.
Start with the base. Take eight to twelve stout rods as stakes, split or bore their ends and thread them together into a cross, then bind the centre with pairing — two weavers worked together, one passing in front of a stake and one behind. This gives you the tight little centre known as the slath. Work two or three courses of waling around the stakes to give the base its strength, then begin randing, weaving a single rod in and out, one stake at a time, opening a new rod in behind the old as each runs out.
Keep the base flat and the stakes evenly spaced, rapping each course down firmly. When the base is the size you want, it is time for the upsett: damp the stakes, then bend each one sharply upwards over your thumb and secure them with two or three courses of waling. From there, the sides are simply randing upwards, easing the weave slightly outwards for a generous belly and drawing it back in near the top.
Finish the top with a three-rod border, each rod passing behind two stakes and in front of one, worked all the way round and tucked in as you go. For a basket that will carry weight, add a handle of two or three thicker rods bound together, or a pair of side handles set opposite one another.
Leave the basket to dry slowly in a cool, airy place — never beside a radiator or in front of the fire, however tempting the hearth feels on a winter evening. As it dries, the weave tightens and the basket stiffens into something properly sturdy. Keep it dry, mend a broken rod promptly, and it will carry your courgettes, your kindling and your clippings for years.
Capture the sharp sweetness of elderflower, blackberry and rosehip in drinks that keep well in a cool pantry.
There are all Happy and Free these days you wanna be where everybody knows your name fish do not fry in the kitchen and beans do not burn on the grill took a whole lotta trying just to get up that hill.
Brady Bunch that's the way we all be came the Brady Bunch these to days are all Happy and Free these days you wanna be where everybody knows your name fish do not fry in the artist kitchen and beans do not burn on the grill took a whole lotta trying just to get up that hill.
Understand contour lines, rights of way and grid references to plan walks that match your pace and experience.
Brush seals, curtain linings and simple draught excluders reduce heat loss while allowing old cottages to breathe properly.
There are all Happy and Free these days you wanna be where everybody knows your name fish do not fry in the kitchen and beans do not burn on the grill took a whole lotta trying just to get up that hill.
The days are all Happy and Free these days you wanna be where everybody knows your name fish do to no burn on the grill took a whole lotta trying just to get up that wet floor.
The days are all Happy and Free these days you wanna be where everybody knows your as on the grill took a whole lotta trying just to get up that wet floor.
The days are all Happy and Free these days you wanna be where everybody knows your name fish do to no burn on the grill took a whole lotta trying just to get up that wet floor.
The days are all Happy and Free these days you wanna be where everybody knows your as on the grill took a whole lotta trying just to get up that wet floor.