A garden both flower and food was part of my childhood and has continued through my life. My Great Grandfather Oliver Marshal retired at 38, he was smart, but the main reason he could retire so young was inherited family wealth.

My maternal great-grandparents and grandparents had adjoining properties on Lambert Road, large blocks abundant with fruit trees, vegetables and flowers. One of my uncles, Leith was late to marry and grew prize-winning gladioli in a vast array of colours. Our homes always had cut flowers.

In summer our great-grandfather grew massed carnations for Gran’s flower bowl and in the cooler months equally massed poppies. We spent hours creating a half-sphere in a silver bowl that sat in the middle of Gran’s dining table. 

Nothing came from the shop. The abundance of fruit and vegetables seemed never ending, changing from season to season and what we didn’t grow was often a swap with other gardening families. The Million Dollar peaches OMG I still remember the taste. Our mother Fay would always grow summer corn, pick it, cook it and we ate it thirty minutes later slathered in butter. Such heaven, we took it for granted, and it was only years later that we truly appreciated how lucky we had been. In that luck our flavour profiles had been formed and in an effort to get the very best quality for my restaurant kitchen the grower’s hall at the Wholesale Produce Market became the solution. Initially in the East End Wholesale Markets Adelaide and later at the Pooraka Produce Market. Sadly today those old fellas who brought me bounty from their home gardens have long since been pushed out by global tasteless produce. 

A lot of my early years were spent with my great-grandparents and grandparents and summer school holidays were spent with paternal grandparents who lived in Queenscliff, Victoria. Everyone grew food and grew flowers and at Queenscliff we fished and ran wild.

Food and flowers we grew ourselves were just an accepted part of life.

In Septembers my maternal grandmother presided over the Monopoly Wars…..a serious fight with the cuzzes. We were mainly outside in the garden oblivious to the beauties of spring. It was a magical free-range childhood, of the like few children get to experience today.