In theory, you plant the potatoes in the bottom of the bin, fill it with straw and compost and leaves and stuff as the potatoes grow, and you end up with a bin full of potatoes when all is done.
The product literature described the delight of "opening the bin and watching all the potatoes tumble out."
Last year, I used the potato bin. Some of the plants died, but some survived. When I opened the bin, nothing tumbled out. It was a giant solid heavy block. I had to pick it apart to see what was inside. It made great compost. It made great earthworms. It did not make potatoes.
When I called the manufacturer of the potato bin for advice, they asked me what I did and what I got. After I told them, they said, "That's a lot better than we did in our test garden. We don't sell this as a potato bin anymore. Now we sell it as a strawberry garden."
Well, they may concede defeat easily, but I think I can do better. This year I planted a row of potatoes. One end of the row is enclosed in the potato bin, the remainder is out in the open. The potatoes are doing great. Much more growth than last year.
In the attached picture, you can't really see the potato bin. That's zucchini (and a dog) in the foreground (and yellow sunflowers in the middle). I'm standing directly behind the potato bin. I've never had armpit-high potato plants before. You can't even see the rest of the row of potatoes outside the bin. They're hidden behind the zucchini between the bin and the corn.
So there you have it. The best potato plants ever. And a bin full of potatoes to boot, just waiting for me to open the bin and delight as the potatoes fall out at my feet.
Just wait till the quitters at the potato bin factory hear about this.
S
