Jamie Oliver swears by them—yet most beginner gardeners skip leeks and miss the magic.

June 27, 2025

Why Leeks Might Just Be the Hero Your Garden Didn’t Know It Needed

There’s something oddly satisfying about pulling a leek up from the soil—like finding buried treasure with roots. But for most beginner gardeners, leeks barely get a spot on the “maybe I’ll try growing this” list. And that’s a miss.

Because when you learn what leeks quietly bring to the table—gardening gets simpler, easier, and tastier. These humble veg aren’t just soup fillers. They’re soil-healers. Pest-confusers. Patience-teachers. Garden transformers. And they’re easier to grow than you think.

From “Too Tricky” to Hands-Down Favourite

When Sarah, a local first-time gardener, tucked a few leek seedlings into her raised bed last autumn, she didn’t expect much. Fast forward six months: they were the standout stars of her veggie patch. Hardy, lush, and with a mild-onion sweetness that made her winter cooking shine. “I’ve killed basil three times,” she told us, “but these leeks? They made me feel like I knew what I was doing.”

That’s the shift. Not just a nice harvest—but a quiet kind of gardening confidence.

What Makes Leeks So Different?

They love South Australian conditions. Cool winters? No problem. Mild springs? Even better.
They dance around pests. Most bugs avoid them, which means less worrying, less spraying, and more growing.
They help nourish your soil. Their roots go deep, breaking up compacted soils and leaving behind structure your next crop will thank you for.
They take their time—but that’s a good thing. While others bolt in early warmth, leeks grow slow and steady, giving your garden rhythm through changing seasons.

Wait—Won’t They Be Hard to Grow?

Short answer? Not if you start the right way. Leeks aren’t fiddly—they’re just misunderstood. Most people slip them straight into the wrong spot, water them erratically, or crowd them too close together. With a bit of local know-how, they’re incredibly forgiving.

“The secret with leeks?” says Candeece from our garden centre, “Start them small, space them wide, and forget about them. They’re not needy—they’re just slow movers.”

Simple Guide to Getting Leeks Right (First Try)

1. Choose the Right Variety

Look for types suited to South Australian winters. At our local garden centre, we favour varieties with strong stems and bolt resistance—meaning you get more edible leek and less disappointment.

2. Start from Seed — or Seedling

If patience isn’t your thing, seedlings are your shortcut. Otherwise, sow seeds into trays and transplant once they’re about as thick as a pencil. That’s your cue—they’re ready.

3. Prep Your Soil

Loose, rich soil is key. Mix in compost and a sprinkle of slow-release organic fertiliser. We rely on blends that match our regional soils (ours are clay-heavy, so drainage matters).

4. Plant Deep (We Mean It)

For those signature white stems, plant them in deep holes or trenches. Poke seedlings into pencil-sized holes—don’t backfill. Rain will do the work gently, naturally blanching the stalk.

5. Water with Intention

They don’t need to be babied—just watered consistently. Skip overhead watering and aim near the roots. Mulch around them for moisture control and weed suppression.

6. Wait…and Then Wow

They take 4–6 months, depending on when you plant. But when that first leek lifts cleanly from the soil, it feels like striking gold. Especially when you slice it up for a home-cooked soup, pie, or roasted side and think: I grew that.

Here’s What People Don’t Tell You

Growing leeks trains you to be a better gardener—without even trying. You learn timing, spacing, and patience. You start to see results not from doing more, but doing less, better.

And here’s the twist: garden centres love flashy, fast growers. Big blooms. Fast tomatoes. But leek growers? We know the slow burn is where the magic happens.

So, Why Should You Bother?

Because tucked between your quicker crops, leeks fill space, fix soil, and give you a small, steady reward to look forward to. And there’s something deeply poetic about that. A reminder that good things grow slowly—and often underground.