For me the year turns when the first frost blackens the leaves of courgettes, withering the stems and killing the fruit. And with the courgettes go the green beans, the summer salad and the rest of it. Thereafter it’s winter veg and food from the freezer. Of course, this change of seasons is highly individual, personal even. Two years ago, it was the first week of September that the fickle finger of frost singled out our plot. Our neighbours, on the other hand - bless them - were cutting courgettes and picking tomatoes right into November!

The other main sign of the change of the seasons is a streaming cold. So, following two nights on which the Met Office had reported zero temperatures and “a widespread ground frost in all parts”, it was with a sense of foreboding and a runny nose that I unlocked the gates to our site. At first sight our plot seemed to have been blighted. The leaves of the French beans had a blackish green fringe and a baby butternut squash lying on the edge of the road had an unhealthy, yellowish tinge. However, on closer inspection, the damage was superficial and the plot had survived its first brush with death and in the heart of the main courgette bed, the leaves were still bright green.

We grow two varieties: a standard green, the name of which I forget, and Gold Rush, which as the name suggests is bright yellow. I can’t tell them apart by taste, but for the dish which I had in mind the contrast between the green and yellow was perfect.

Courgettes & Tomatoes with Garlic and Bay Leaves

Take yellow and green courgettes. Slice them about ½” thick. Throw them into a pan of hot olive oil and fry with a handful of bay leaves, lots of garlic – it’s not necessary to peel the cloves, certainly not necessary to chop them – and more salt than you may think is healthy. The salt is important because it causes the courgettes to brown. You need to keep the oil hot, turning the courgettes with a slotted spoon or spatula. When they are nicely brown, add chopped or whole cherry tomatoes and continue to fry until the skins of the tomatoes split and they start to ooze juice. Add a squeeze of lemon juice and serve with whatever you fancy. You can have them with a plate of pasta or as an accompaniment to most meat but avoid anything with a really delicate flavour which will just be overwhelmed.

Back to the plot. The plant in what had been a hot-bed puzzled me. It had been the most productive, benefiting from protection from the wind and from the bed of now rotted manure into which it had been planted. Although the leaves were still vigorous, it appeared to have given up producing fruit. It took me some minutes to discover the cause: four and a half pounds of cause, in fact, hidden in the undergrowth. A yellow monster, too big to photograph.

“Have you seen this?” I called to my neighbour, who was also down inspecting the frost damage.

“You could always do stuffed marrow,” she suggested. “Split it in two, scoop out the insides…”

In my opinion the trouble with the overgrown-courgette-as-vegetable-marrow solution is that the heat of the oven forms a crust on top of the stuffing while at the same time driving out the liquid from the courgette which is trapped in a pool beneath the stuffing. What you get is not so much baked as boiled. It’s much better, I think, to cut the courgette into generous slices, cut out the seeds and fill the resultant rings filled with stuffing and roast on a baking tray. Onions sautéed in olive oil, mixed with chopped tomatoes, mushroom and fresh herbs and combined with breadcrumbs works well.

The other trouble with the stuffed marrow solution, of course, is that it wasn’t going to work very well with the courgette and tomato dish. So this is what I did.

Marrow Ginger

Split the courgette/marrow lengthways and scoop out the seeds. Then peel it. It is important to remove all the peel and the fibrous bits around the seeds as they will never soften in the cooking. Cut it into ¾” cubes and put into a heavy pan. For 4lbs of prepared courgette, grate or finely chop the peel of one lemon, and add to the courgette with the juice of three lemons. Peel and finely chop a 2” piece of fresh ginger. Add to the courgette. Take about 20 green cardamom pods, extract the tiny black seeds and add these. Add three pounds of sugar and slowly bring the pan to a simmer, stirring until the sugar has dissolved. Cook gently for half and hour or so until the courgette becomes translucent. Then allow to cool.

Marrow (or courgette) ginger will keep for months in a jar in the fridge. The exact proportions are not critical. If you use an equal quantity of sugar to fruit, you will end up with marrow ginger jam. The cardamom seeds are optional and the quantity of ginger can be varied to taste. The dish is very rich and a little goes a long way. Serve with Greek-style yoghurt, which cuts through the richness, rather than cream.

And after all that garlic, lemon and ginger, the streaming cold with which I woke up was gone. The sun is shining and, who knows, perhaps we’ll be picking summer veg into November.