Anybody for breakfast? How about two fried eggs, sunny side up?
A favourite in my garden is Romneya Coulteri, the fried egg flower. I love its cut grey-green leaves, the way it zooms up from ground level in one season and how at, and over, head height, the buds erupt into big, fragrant, white blossoms. A boss of yellow stamens adds a yolk to the centre of each egg and attracts visitors in the form of bees and beetles and other goggas who burrow and roll around in the pollen.
It’s not easy to find or transplant a Romneya. I must have tried at least six times with stringy , unpromising bits of ‘rooty’ tuber which I dug out from ridiculously deep holes underneath the plant in winter. Finally, one took and the plant has been a prized resident ever since. In fact, once you’ve got it, it’s for life. Our Cape Flats sandy soil suits the Romneya it to a tee as it originally hails from the Californian coast and Mexico. New stems pop up all over the place, ensuring that breakfast will be served in the early summer for as long as this gardener gives it license to do what it wants.
In the background of the photograph is an egg-yellow Poor Man’s orchid, as perfect an accompaniment to a duo of fried eggs as toast, butter, salt and pepper.