A Fool

I should start this post with a one-liner: you'd have to be a fool not to be able to make one... or something.  Fergus Henderson, who is rather more direct, entitles his fool recipe "You Fool" and begins: "Who are you calling a fool?"  Whatever the pun, the fool is quite the easiest and most delicious of fruity puds.  While you can smarten it up with drizzles and jus and marblings, or replace some cream with yoghurt, I think simple is best: a true fool is just whipped cream, fruit and sugar.  To my mind the tarter the fruit the better the fool.  Think: Gooseberry Fool, Rhubarb Fool - the dreamiest of creamy puddings.

This season we are into Damson, Blackberry or Raspberry Fools.  Here is a suitably messy Blackberry and Raspberry Fool.  The raw fruit is macerated in the sugar for a few hours then folded into the whipped cream.  Fergus Henderson's recipe from The Complete Nose to Tail [brilliant, brilliant, brilliant book - every kitchen must have it - where else does tradition meet style so imperiously?!] reads more or less as follows:

200g Fruit - 50g Caster Sugar - 400ml Double Cream.

Lightly cook fruit with half the sugar till juices run, or if very ripe just mix with sugar and crush with fork.  Whip cream with rest of sugar to soft peaks.  Fold in fruit.  Serve with Shortbread.

Yes, shortbread is a super accompaniment to a fool. I follow his recipe for shortbread too, but rather than cutting shapes, press it into a tin and break it at the table.

750g Plain Flour - 500g Butter - 250g Caster Sugar

Half quantities suffice.  Grate the butter into the flour.  Breadcrumb it between the fingers.  Add Sugar.  Press into a tin. Cook about 15 - 20 mins 160 C.  Should be pale but crisp not doughy.

Hedgerow Loaf Cake

It has to be said that, after a hot and close Summer, this past fortnight has definitely felt like Autumn.  Along with the cooler weather, the hedgerow fruits are here in abundance.  Here then a recipe for a hedgerow fruit and nut cake, which will hold whatever fruits you deign to gather.  This simplest of recipes served as a wholesome birthday cake for a mother-in-law fond of the hedgerows, and is seen here the following day with coffee.

Cream 200g Butter with 150g Sugar.  Beat in 4 Eggs one by one.  Fold in 150g Spelt Flour, 1 level tsp Bicarb., 1 level tsp Baking Powder (all sieved) and 150g Ground Almonds.  Then fold in autumnal fruits, nuts and seeds.  In this case I have used Windfall Apples, Elderberries, Blackberries, Walnuts and Hazelnuts.  The fruits and nuts should be about the same volume as the mix so that when folded into the mixture it contains them, but only just.  Spoon into a lined loaf tin.  I have then topped it with slices of Apple and Flaked Almonds.

Bake at 180C for about 40 mins until cooked through.

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Notes:
You could try replacing some of the ground almonds with ground hazelnuts - heat them, rub off the skins, then grind to flour.  I think that Maple Syrup instead of Sugar might taste really lovely in this cake.  I have yet to try this... Also, this is not a very sweet cake.  If you would like it to be sweeter you could sprinkle with Brown Sugar before cooking or drizzle with Honey or Maple Syrup once cooked and when still warm.

Beans, Greens and Butter

After the deluge...

These weeks of deluge bring green to the roadsides, woodlands and the veg patch.  My hands full of the green stuff, I this weekend nourished stomach and soul with garden pulses and as much of the chlorophyll as I could gather.  Here a very buttery Green Bean Stew.  

Soak a mugful of beans for 24 hours, or at least overnight.  Here I used Runner Beans collected from the pods last Autumn.  Change the water and cook the beans in water with a few Bay Leaves and Fennel Seeds (to counteract flatulent effects) and no salt - salt can make the skins tough.  Simmer on the hob or in the oven until the beans are soft, not quite falling apart.   Remove and use the same pan to cook the Veg.  I choose to cook them separately as I want the Green to be almost raw and rife with goodness.  The recipe may appear very convoluted.  It is really simply a steaming process, cooking the stuff at the base most and on the top the least.  The idea is to use whatever Greens, wild or cultivated you have to hand.  Here I have used fresh green Herbs, Land Cress, baby Alliums and a Cabbage.

I cooked the remainder in layers in the pan, only stirring the Onion.  Soften one large Onion in Butter.  Add very thinly sliced Cabbage, another knob of Butter and a water to cover the base of the pan.  Put on the lid and allow the Cabbage to steam slightly.  Add baby Leeks, Spring Onions and Wet Garlic, all finely chopped, Greens and all.  Add Lovage stalks and leaves.  Add more Butter and Savoury.  Continue to steam slowly.   

Then add the Beans and fill the pan with water until just visible at the height of the Beans.  Now, add some of the chopped Parsley, Chard, Land Cress, Sweet Cicely...  Steam a minute or so more.  Top with the remainder of the Greens, a knob of Butter.  Season and serve immediately with fresh Bread and Butter.

Winter drinks - the verdict.

Spring, Summer, Autumn, were spent, you might remember, madly concocting inifinite beverages, that the winter might be spent hunkered down by the fire, a glass of some sweet form of hedgerow inebriation in the hand.  And, thank goodness!  For now, winter is ripe, and the cupboards overspilling with tipple.

First then, the infused liquers.  Gin left to mull with Bullace from the garden, Whisky full of wild Blackberries, Vodka with Elderflowers and Gooseberries.  I have learnt a lot about these.  Often the tendency, and the recipes I have found, have doused the alcohol full of sugar, as well as fruit.  As, it appears, the alcohol alone preserves the fruit and is quite palatable with only the barest brush of sugar, the amount of sugar often reccomended is really for those with a sweet tooth.  I prefer a sharper, dryer and often bitterer drink, so for next year, I will use the following quantities:

4pts Alcohol : 3lb Fruit : 8oz Sugar

With very sweet fruits, such as Blackberries, I might even reduce this to 6oz Sugar.
Secondly, as I am not a drinker of summer cocktails with ice, shaken in tall glasses, I have found the lighter Vodkas and Gins (Gooseberry, floral etc) harder to drink, too sweet mixed with tonic, and not quite my thing on their own.  I have found these best as gifts.  The darker, winter brews, are wonderful alone, warm by the fire, and I will make these again by the bucketful next year.

The Quince Brandy was long awaited, hoping to capture that wondrous floral perfume and tart flavour.  I tried two versions, one raw, and one cooked.  I have to say that having left the both three months in bottles with a variety of spices, the Quince sadly hadn't given much of its inimitable flavour to the Brandy, it instead tasted mainly of the spices, of which too much Star Anise for my palate was evident!  The cooked version did have a slight fruitiness.  Next year I shall attempt with grated Quince, as one friend suggested, no spices and leave it longer, perhaps even with a dash of Quince Juice.  However, it made a wonderful spiced warming drink, and another great Christmas present...

2011 Recipes for infused Alcohols:
Sloe Gin
Bullace Gin
Blackberry Whisky
Gooseberry and Elderflower Vodka
Gooseberry and Whitecurrant Gin
Quince Brandy

2010:
Cherry Vodka

As for the brews, the Elderflower Champagne was a dream, drunk young, aged well to a sharper wine, and I shall be making much in the future - despite the explosions in the shed!

Otherwise, I still have to perfect my brewing.  My tactic seems to be: mix it all up, forget about it... and in one case mice had found my muslin bottle tops rather tasty, another had turned to vinegar.  The experts on home-made wines are Carl Legge - see his wonderful blog.  And, Christophe, on Clare Island.  I spent November there racking, bottling, and tasting a variety of brews.  My memory is still sharp with the sweet sour and perfectly musty Rhubarb and Apple Wine, the two years aged Vin de Cassis, which was sweet and rich and drank like a good Port.

The Hedgerow Syrup has been a favourite.  Pasteurised as it was in bottles, it has kept well, and serves as a hot and heartwarming winter drink, to fend off flu, to ward off the weather.  I also made a Quince Syrup, along similar lines, which i drink as a cordial, a lovely flavour, and great quencher of the thirst after a stint in the garden.  Both can also be used in crumbles, compotes and wintry puds...

So... with the coming of Spring, and first the Elderflowers, I look forward to a new spell of concocting drinks to fill the cabinet, for yet another winter hunkered down by the fire.

Winter Feasting (iii) A Feast Indeed! or How to eat Terrine: with lashings of Bread & Butter, Pickles, the like...

Besides the Terrines, how to satiate the stomachs of twenty-odd banqueters?

Game Terrine

The stoic winter staples: Puy Lentils, Cabbage and Bread.  These, and piles of Pickles and Jellies from the shed.  This finished with Baked Apples, and a variety of alcoholic fruit, again to be found in the shed-cum-pantry.  A moment to rejoice in that Summer-Autumn of perpetual preserving!

Redcurrant Jelly and Pickled Crabapples

Before dining: long milling over Mulled Cider.  The Cider, a dream, made by a friend and sweetened slightly in its flagon with the addition of Honey.  It was mulled with Quince, Allspice, Cinnamon, Cloves, Lemons.

The Lentils I failed, once again, to photograph in their steaming glory.  Simply: cooked the night before with Onions softened in Butter, Garlic Cloves in their skins, Thyme, Bay Leaves, Juniper and Water, flavoured nearing the end with Balsamic Vinegar, Red Wine, some Apple/Rosemary Jelly, a touch of Soy Sauce, Salt and Pepper.  They sat luxuriating in their sauce for a day, and were then heated up.

Sliced Terrine and Cabbage

The Cabbage was cooked in batches on the day, first with onions in Olive Oil, then slowly in a light, homemade Cider Vinegar, and masses of Caraway.  Reheated at the last minute, laid on Cabbage leaves and topped with roast Pumpkin Seeds.

An enormous Pumpkin

The enormous Pumpkin, was chopped into big beautiful chunks, and doused in a Marinade of Olive Oil, Chilli, Demarara Sugar (for lack of Maple Syrup), and a touch of Balsamic and Soy Sauce, and French coarse Sea Salt.  After about an hour of marinating it was roasted at high heat in the oven, and served hot.  The idea for the recipe (minus Soy and Balsamic) came from a fortnight spent in November back ‘midst the gales on Clare Island, a recipe for Pumpkin Crisps made with Uchiki Kuri.  I shall tell about the fortnight anon.

...chopped in big, beautiful chunks, sat in marinade

The Bread, all five loaves, were cooked as per the previous recipe.

Bread

Great sloshing bowls of Pickled Apples, Pickled Crabapples, Bar-Le-Duc Redcurrant Jelly and Rosemary Jelly were lain between bowls full of Butter.

Apples baked in Gin-soaked Bullace

Following on from that Baked Apples, stuffed with Figs (Norfolk Figs – oven dried) and Sultanas soaked in Quince Brandy.  Cooked in a bed of Gin-soaked Bullace, these the remnants from the Bullace Gin.  With those, to feed the multitude, Potted Brandy Figs, and a selection of post-Christmas chocolates of all varieties, Satsumas, and bowls of Hazelnuts and Walnuts (again from local gardens).

Potted Brandy Figs

Oh ‘twas a feast indeed…

...

...breakfasting on leftovers

Apple Wine... Elderflower Champagne; Wine; Gooseberry Whitecurrant Gin - thoughts on.

A bright morning, the fire lit at dawn, a walk and breakfasted, bread in the oven… ode to the joys of country living! Those, the contented glug of the Apple Wine fermenting in the background.

To celebrate today, a post on the various brews in the cottage… A morn’ dram of Elderflower Champagne, of same Wine and a rather more adult Gin.

Apple Wine

First though, the Apple Wine recipe, spawned by my unwillingness to press any more Apples – the recipe is made by chopping and cooking, rather than juicing the fruit. This recipe is adapted from CJJ Berry’s First Steps in Winemaking, shared and dejargoned by DIY sommelier extraordinaire Carl Legge.  The process I have used is the following, it is surely amateur and rudimentary… I shall write more thoughts on bottling and tasting.

I chose to use Russets, and a few Pears.  The Egremont Russet has a creamy sweet and nutty flavour, and I envisage it a delicate and deep wine.

Wash and cut up 2.75 kilos of Apples, skin and all. (Windfalls are fine)  Simmer 20 mins in 5 litres water.  Strain onto 1 kilo of Sugar in Fermenting Bucket.  When lukewarm add rind and juice of 2 Lemons, 1 tsp Marmite, ½ Mug of strong cold Tea, 200g Sultanas, ½ Sachet of winemakers Yeast. 

Cover bucket with Muslin.  Leave to ferment as such, at room temperature, for two-four days until fermentation is less vigorous.  Strain and bottle in airlocked Demijohns.  After about a month rack off into clean jars.  Mature for six months before bottling.

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Elderflower Champagne

This year’s batch of Elderflower Champagne has proved a joyful brew, brimming with that floral giddiness that is the drink’s renown.  Light, sweet, sparkling, I find it best drunk young, cold on a Summer’s day.  For a winter variation, add a drop of Hedgerow Syrup giving a stunning aperitif à la Kir Royale.

The inevitable difficulty with home made Champagne is the gaseousness.  This Summer, once-again-rearranging-the-shed, a loud and near terrifying bang proved to be a bottle exploding and in the process smashing two more bottles.  Each has their own remedy to prevent the explosion.  Some say use magnums, others to tie the tops with string or wire, a third, and this is the way I have since managed it, is by occasionally releasing the pressure by part unscrewing the lids.

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Elderflower Wine

Bottling the Wine with Syphon

You might remember I also put some of my Champagne in a Demijohn under airlock to make a Wine.  This I racked off and bottled about a month ago.  It has produced a lovely, if slightly sharp, dry, pale coloured Wine.  I did worry it had perhaps gone off, a thin white layer had formed on the top of the liquid, but a process of tasting and troubleshooting with Carl Legge, showed me it was indeed the hoped for Wine… and tasting it today I am indeed charmed… it is the stuff of late Summer nights, of Bacchanalia, for what inebriation more profound than that of wine brewed of flowers plucked from one’s own lands.

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Gooseberry and Whitecurrant Gin

Lastly, I bottled the Gooseberry and Whitecurrant Gin, ever redolent with the summer flavours of the fruits it is in comparison a very sweet concoction… on ice a Summer’s eve, or, for my palate, best with a bitter tonic to balance out the sweetness.  The tendency in alcoholic infusions is to add a tonne of sugar – with Sloe Gin and the like this produces a warming wintry brew, not unlike Port.  However with the lighter, more floral variations I would be tempted on another occasion to use less sugar to produce a drink that is somewhat drier.  I believe the sugar is unnecessary in the process of preserving and simply serves to make the drink palatable.

When bottling fruit alcohols the tipsy fruits can be collected for desserts, cakes, jams.  These I used as an addition to this Apple and Olive Oil Cake, shared by the artiste of Apple Cakes Carla Tomasi.

Carla's Apple and Olive Oil Cake with Tipsy Fruits

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Off this afternoon to gather the ingredients for a spiced Quince Brandy.  Set to infuse now it should be ready to drink on Christmas day…

Notes: On Forage, Mushrooms and the Noma Cookbook

We do not stop the world when we eat; 

we go into it a little more deeply.

Olafur Eliasson (Noma)

Cep

... 

Allow me a paintbrush, a palette…a pile of artistic licence to tell of some friends of mine and their wild ways.  Boys they are, a huddle of them, bare’ approachable and and not easy to handle.  They can’t be tethered down and one won’t find them for looking.   But, one might come across them…

On the foreshore by night fighting the tide for a last Sea-bass; atop a tree, gathering Plums to pot a Pigeon in; plucking a Greylag large to feed a crowd.  Adventurous with tastes, unperturbed by roadkill, they’ll be smoking Mackerel in a filing-cabinet-cum-smoker; cooking Mullet in milk for fishcakes; stewing Cockles in a split can of cider on an open fire; barbecuing Samphire.  How very nineteenth century lyrical said a friend as I rhapsodised about baskets of Ceps, and indeed, these are the Huck Finn’s of today, the unassuming artistes of forage.

Dried Chanterelles

Last I called by, Muntjac was roasting in the oven, surfaces brimming with mushrooms gathered, some dried, a hoard: Shaggy Parasols; Chanterelles, orange and sweet-apricot-scented; something blue.  Another fellow appeared a basket in his hand large to gather wood, in it full - Penny-Buns, Ceps, plentiful as a baker’s.

We ate then Parasol:

The cap cut into long, thick strips, doused long in egg and salt and pepper breadcrumbs, fried quick and served slathered unashamedly in mayonnaise.  A dream.

Parasol Mushrooms in Bowl of Apples

The Ceps so plentiful I took some home.

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This weekend, another scene: ‘midst fashionistas, florists and folklorists, stepping the streets of London town…  On gathering my basket and boots to return home, risen at dawn to the cockney cries of Columbia Road Flower Market, pressed into my hands was a copy of Noma, Time and Place in Nordic Cuisine by René Redzepi.  I have long hankered after this book and was delighted to be given it.  (Thanks Laur!) It is indeed an extraordinary book, but with over half of the pages covered in photos worthy of the wall, it is not a manual.  The recipes themselves, so daunting that I’m glad I didn’t turn to it to cook my Ceps, relying instead on friendly advice and Elizabeth David (see below).

Indeed, I now understand that the book is less a cookbook and more a book to wander through, wonder at, that tells of the story behind the Michelin starred Copenhagen restaurant Noma.  No longer silent, secret, unassuming; at Noma forage is ostentatious, it’s an artform plucked or peacocking, it is the very edgiest of foodthinking, where food overlaps with artthought and critical theory.  But on closer inspection, I am also ready to bow to this.  Of René’s moment of illumination, he writes:

I realized that we had to exploit the seasons in a better way, so that you could only get a particular dish here and now.  We should explore the extremes of nature, seek out the thousand or more species of edible fungi, the many wild plants, roots and seashore plants. […] The guests dining at Noma should feel a sensation of time and place in their very bones.

Ingredients were thus combined not only with those of same season, but those of their natural habitat.  If venison was on the menu, the meat should be served with snails, pine shoots and mushrooms.  Thus recipes such as: Bouillon of Steamed Birchwood, Chanterelles and Fresh  Hazelnut; Stone Crab and Beach Mustard, Cockle Gel or simply Snails and Moss.  And abruptly, the nineteenth century lyricists and the uber modern restaurant look no longer askance upon one another, artistes the both.

…

Ceps

Not Ceps and Poached Truffle Meringue (à la Noma) but Cèpes à la Bordelaise (Elizabeth David) with Brown Rice Risotto.

In her French Provincial Cooking, Elizabeth David quotes the recipe of Alcide Bontou (refer to the book to read more).  I shall do likewise:

“Choose 12 firm cèpes, small rather than large, and with dark heads; remove the stalks and peel them, but only wipe the heads; make incisions on the underside of the heads with the point of a knife.  Put a glass of olive oil in a frying-pan; when it is hot, put in the heads of the cèpes; turn them over when they have browned on one side.  Season with salt and pepper.

Chop the stalks with four cloves of garlic and some parsley.  Throw this mixture over the cèpes.  Let them all sauter in the pan for 3 or 4 minutes.

You may add a tablespoon of soft white breadcrumbs.  Serve.”

I made a pseudo-risotto with Short Grain Brown Rice, butter, Shallots, Bay-Leaves, White Wine and Wighton, a local creamy but hard cheese.  And served the Ceps on top.  Divine.

...

Another great friend, longdeserving of a blog post dedicated to her green fingers, her inexhaustible creative energy and her kitchen concoctions, whose latest addition to the home is a goat in the back garden (soon I hope we’ll be on milk and cheese)… makes a Puffpall Pâté of such flavour it is also worthy of Michelin stars.  

Puffball Pâté

I haven’t the exact recipe, and I rather doubt there is one.  Try:

Chop and very gently fry up Puffballs with Garlic and Cumin in Butter.  Blend the lot adding Salt and Pepper or a touch of Soy Sauce.  Spread on bread for a deeply mushroom flavour edged with garlic and cumin.  You could also try adding cream, cream-cheese.

If you do attempt this let me know!

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Notes:

 -The Noma cookbook is indeed a gift, only on the verge of my foray into it, I hope to write more anon.

 -Writing at first light, I espy another forager: a grey squirrel feasting on the last of the overripe Bullace.
(In postscript - now mid-November, a friend writes from wild woodlands of Tuscany: I strongly reccommend Parasol Mushrooms, ripped, dipped in Egg, Breadcrumbs, Garlic and drizzled in Lemon Juice...  As only yesterday Amelia came across a field thick with same Macrolepiota procera, I too hope to try this in the week.)

Blackberries - wi' Beetroot Relish, wi' Cinnamon Whisky, in Vinegar et cetera

Beetroot, Blackberry and Walnut Relish


Apparently nonsensical, it is often colours that define choices of food combinations.   Not quite for this reason alone, I decided to give a touch of the wild to a conventional Beetroot Relish, with the addition of Blackberries and Apples.   More likely, I based my choice on an only-part-forgotten Beetroot and Blackcurrant Relish espied once in the Riverford Cookbook, but the colour, as well as the gluts of berries nearing their end on plentiful briars outside the house, were certainly influential factors in the concoction of this recipe.


On cooking, my head was chiming with shouts of Chilli! Horseradish! Ginger!  But I forestalled such fervour, deciding that the addition of Blackberry was quite quirky enough. Indeed, on bringing a pot to dinner that evening,  there was already a raised eyebrow, a giggle, a sneer...


1/2lb Blackberries, 4 medium Beetroot, 1 Apple, 1 Onion, 100ml Apple Juice, 100ml Cider Vinegar, 100ml Balsamic Vinegar, 1tbsp Blackberry Jam (optional), 100g Sugar, Port (optional), handful Walnuts (optional).


Heat half the Blackberries in the Apple Juice, till cooked, strain and keep the juice.  Grate the apple into this juice, bring to simmer, stir in Jam, set aside.  Heat Vinegars with Sugar and add grated raw Beetroot and chopped Onion, turning so that all the ingredients are covered.  Add Apple and Blackberry Juice.  Stir.  Add slosh of Port rest of Blackberries and Walnuts, simmer a minute longer.  Press into hot sterilised jars, seal.  Leave for a month (although it is lovely immediately) and serve as a sweet/sharp addition to rich wintry meats.

Unlike the Bullace, Port and Walnut Jam, which is given edge by the tartness of the fruit, this is incredibly sweet.  In the future I would indeed add something fiery to lift it.  If making this yourself, why not slice in a Chilli with the Onion, or grate in some Horseradish...

Despite my convincing myself this is a Relish, it has turned out not unlike my Beetroot Pickle, I rather thought the Sugar and Jam would make it more of a spread - I understand a Relish to be something between a Pickle and a Chutney.  In future to make it more Relish-like I shall try cooking it for longer.

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Blackberry and Cinnanmon Whisky

I have had to turn my thoughts from simply: preserving, to: preserving in the most practical manner... So, despite enjoying the flamboyant, the flippant and the fun, I have started questioning what is really necessary.  It might seem odd that I am talking about practicality under the seemingly superfluous heading of Blackberry Whisky.  But, I am headily conscious of living in a chilly house, am predicting another icy winter, and know well that a nip of something sweet and strong is not only pleasant, but vital on those winter eves...

My recipe went thus:  Fill a very large bottle (1.5lt) to a third with Blackberries (about 250g), cover these in Sugar (about 250g), add 1 bottle cheap Whisky (1lt) and a splash of very good single malt.  I also added a Cinnamon stick.  Shake the lot, and leave in bottle, shaking on occasion, for three months. Strain through muslin, drink when necessary.  The addition of the Single Malt ( a tip for any impoverished Whisky-lover) is said, in a mere drop, to transfer the flavour of the malt to the cheaper stuff.

...

Blackberry and Elderberry Vinegars

Another practicality is how can we make what we tend to buy.  So, vinegar-phile that I am, I was delighted when Carl Legge shared Sandor Ellix Katz's recipe for DIY Vinegar.  Having a so-far-successful Apple/Crabapple Vinegar on the go, I decided yesterday to try Blackberry Vinegar, Elderberry Vinegar and Quince Vinegar.  Rather than using the whole fruits, I have used the Apple and Quince skins and cores, potting and pasteurising the fruits themselves (see pic below).

Briefly: Fill a 2pt Mason Bowl with washed cores and skins of Apples and about 100g of Berries.  Cover with 1pt of 10% Sugar Solution at room temperature.  Place plate on top to keep fruit under liquid and cover with tea-towel.  Leave until starts fermenting, stirring on ocassion if deemed necessary.  After about a week of fermentation remove fruit.  Continue as before, when convincingly vinegar-like, strain and bottle - there's your Vinegar!  


For the Quince, I took the skins and cores of a pile of windfalls, fallen during last week's storms, and did as per Carl's recipe.  

Of course, I'm only at stage one, so will relate whether this method is succesful or not once I can confirm.  For further information, please refer to Carl's blog and Sandor's website.

Quince in Syrup - Elderberry and Apple Compote

Pickled Crab Apples - a flamboyant addition to the winter table

Fed up of endless yearly Jelly-Making…Indeed, does it not seem a pity to see the fruits thrown, only the liquid kept, not to mention the vast amounts of sugar demanded?  I was delighted to come across a recipe for pickling Crab Apples.  The idea came from quite one of my favourite forage books: Suzanne Beedell’s Pick Cook and Brew… I picked it up second-hand on the Charing Cross Road years ago, the name alone won me over, and at the time I thought it a gift suited to my father.  It has since been relinquished, and found a home in the cottage here as if meant to be. It's particularly appropriate, as the forager herself lived in North Norfolk - what she found in the seventies can likely still be found locally today.

So, amidst recipes and illustrations for Crab Apple Pudding, Crab Apple Wine…there I read: Crab Apple Pickle.  An incorrigible pickler, this could not fail to whet the appetite.

I altered her recipe to suit me, and pickled as follows:

Heat 750ml Cider Vinegar, 250ml Apple Juice, 600g Sugar in a pan stirring until sugar dissolves.  Add 1kg Crab Apples, washed, the blossom end removed, I chose to keep the stalks on an aesthetic whim.  The liquid should cover the Crab Apples.  Add 2in. grated Root Ginger, a few Cloves and Peppercorns, 3 All Spice, 3 Star Anise, 2 Cinnamon Sticks,1tbsp Mustard Seed, and her recipe also calls for garlic cloves wrapped in muslin, to be removed at the end.  (The terrible stench of pickled garlic made me think I would choose onions on another occasion).  Simmer until Crab Apples are tender.  Pot fruit in sterilised jars and reduce syrup if necessary.  Pour syrup over Apples, making sure they are well covered.  Seal immediately.  Leave a few months to mature before eating.

These beautiful pickled yellow fruits would look glorious adorning Beast and Fowl in winter months.  Try also on a Cheese Plate, with Pork, even Suckling Pig.  A sharp bite they make a statement both in taste and looks, cutting through fats and rich flavours… I cannot recommend enough for adding a touch of the ostentatious, the extraordinary, the medieval to a winter banquet.

For other alternate Crab Apple uses, see: Hedgerow Syrup and Carl Legge’s Blackberry Chutney.  Carl also has a recipe for DIY Cider Vinegar, hope maybe to get to that this afternoon..

…

I also pickled some beautiful tiny Epicurean Apples.  These were windfalls, and have a great flavour, but are small enough to fit whole in pots.  I used this Recipe, which I used for the Pear windfalls of last year, only replacing the distilled vinegar with White Wine Vinegar and adding some All Spice.

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Follow this link for all the Chutney and Pickle Recipes on this blog.

Potted Figs, Bullace Jam, Pumpkin Chutney...perpetual preserving

Halved Figs to be macerated in Honey, Lemon and Vanilla.

The Figs have been wondrous this year, and indeed, it seems a pity to cook them at all, when, despite an impoverished summer they are sweet, soft and nearly-not-quite comparable with memories of those bursting, bulbous falling from the trees of the Andalusian countryside.  If your tree hasn't produced same sumptuous crop, do bear in mind, as far as I understand, that Fig Trees like stress and sun.  They are often put in pots or planted in amongst builders' rubble against a South-facing wall to encourage fruiting and ripeness.

But, we are unable to eat them all, and besides piling them into a Tagine, as I did last week, potting is an excellent way of preserving them.  That said, drying now comes to mind.  A solar-dehydrator would do the trick, as would a hot no-too-damp greenhouse, or strung up inside the car.  Whether our Figs are sweet enough to preserve successfully dried, and whether Autumnal Norfolk has enough heat, I don't know. (Do let me know of any of your own experiements...)

Potted Figs.  I posted the recipe here when enjoying last-years potted figs, and simply mention it again as it's the season and I've been taking great pleasure in doing so at the cottage.  On this occasion I replaced the Whisky with Brandy and for lack of Vanilla Pod I used good quality (Nielsen-Massey) Vanilla Extract.

As, it seems to be the season of perpetual preserving, do bear in mind that you can also pot Pears, Peaches, Apples along these lines.  In most cases I would take the precaution of pasteurising as well.  On another note, the tradition of Rumtopf offers a great way of preserving fruits for pudding.

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Bullace, Port and Walnut Jam

This recipe was shared by Jules Jackson of De-lish (@dehyphenlish).  It's so good that I was near' pouring scalding hot spoonfuls of the stuff down my throat...only some last hold on reason prevented me.

Place about 2kg of stoned Bullace (Plums, Damsons etc will do equally as well) in a bowl.  Cover with Port and leave to macerate overnight.  The following day bring to the boil.  Take off the heat and add 2kg of Sugar, stirring until dissolved.  Add 400g of Walnuts, halved or quartered as desired.  I also added a good slosh of Balsamic vinegar (red-wine vinegar would do equally) to give the jam a slightly sharp edge.  Bring to heat again and simmer hard until setting-point is reached.  Pot in warmed, sterilised jars.

Despite being called a "Jam", a touch tart, this is really more of a confiture, to be served with savouries, such as Cheeses, Pork and Game.  Mr Jackson resolutely sticks to the term "Jam" merely, I suspect, due to a certain pleasure in the mundanity of the word... Or, indeed, he simply prefers to spick with the Anglicised version. Either way, I am sure this would be quite as dreamy on toast, but, truth told, I'm not really one for spreading jam on toast, and much prefer the savoury combinations...

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Pumpkin and Apple Chutney

Again, it seems a pity to put a Pumpkin in chutney as they store so well as they are.  This chutney was really a result of half a Pumpkin sitting around not being eaten and the eternal Apple glut.  I have quite a variety of Apple Chutney recipes up my sleeve, but this is a blend of the quirky and the traditional.

Chop 2 Onions, half a small Pumpkin (Uchiki Kuri), 8 large Apples (peeled, cored), oh, I see, a handful of green tomatoes (optional!),  1 Chilli (more or less depending on heat) into small pieces.  Grate 2 in. Root Ginger.  Put the lot in a pan with 1lt Cider vinegar.  Bring to the boil then take off heat and add 400g Demarara Sugar, 1 tbsp Corinader Seed, 1 tbsp. black Peppercorns, 1tbsp Brown Mustard Seed, a handful yellow Sultanas, a pinch of salt.  Stir and bring once again to the boil.  Simmer gently for several hours, stirring to prevent sticking.  Once the mixture is considerably reduced and of a thick, sludgy consistency which holds a wooden-spoon upright, it is ready to be potted.  Pot in warmed, sterilised jars.
Leave several months to mature before eating.

Hedgerow Syrup and A Line Made by Walking

A chesty cold and sore throat on waking took me to the fields for some dawn air and to gather some of those Elderberries hanging bulbous, big as Blackcurrants, before the birds did.  Wellybooted over pyjamas - for the Elder grows in patches of nettles high as my hips - I stepped out.  The fields dewladen, my steps marked the grass invoking Richard Long's beautiful artwork - A Line Made by Walking.

A Line Made by Walking - Richard Long

The hedgerows brimming with fruits, as well as the Elderberries, I grabbed handfuls of Haws and Rosehips, Blackberries and Wild Apples... a few Crabapples, some wild Plums all to go in the syruppy concoction.  Chopped up the hard fruit, just covered with water in a pan and brought to simmer, then adding the soft fruits (remove the elderberries from their very bitter and cyanide rich stalks using a fork).  Pummel the lot adding a few Cloves, some grated Ginger and half a stick of Cinnamon.   Simmer gently for up to an hour, so the liquid is rich gloopy purple.

Strain for several hours or overnight through muslin.  Then, adding between 500g-750g of sugar per litre of liquid heat once again until the sugar is dissolved, the syrup just boiling.  Pour immediately into sterilised bottles and seal tightly.   The syrup keeps thus for several months, rich in Vitamin C and wild goodness it is somewhere between a cordial and a medicine.  Drink hot or cold, diluting with water, on those cold-ridden days, or wintry evenings by the fire, adding a splash of brandy when necessary.  Otherwise add to Crumbles, Pies and even stews for some late Summer Hedgerow Flavour.

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If you happen to have a steam juicer this concoction can be made without sugar, the steamer will pasteurise the juice and it can likewise be kept in sterilised bottles for several months.

Bullace Gin + Sloe Gin

The season is nigh', to rummage again in the hedgerows, concoct what preserves one might.  The next posts will surely be full of forage and preserving, as we hoard in preparation for the winter.  The weekend was spent on bikes foraging, and this evening a brief stint at Sloe and Bullace Gins.

I have already posted a foolhardy recipe for the Sloe Gin... Here's a brew made with something of our rampant garden hedge - we suspect it is Bullace.

The same recipe applies for Bullace as for Sloe -  about 4pts Gin to 3lb Fruit and 1lb Sugar.
(I notice however the River Cottage handbook suggests equiv: 1.2 pt : 1lb :1lb , so perhaps one should say each to their own, depending (always) on what is to hand, and what feels right)
Shake/stir regularly and allow to mature over several months (at least two).  Then strain through muslin, bottle, and age further in bottles.  My father prides himself on drinking his ancient vintages of the stuff, here in the cottage we have trouble keeping it 'til Summer.  Indeed, my father is so abstemious, he would ne'er pick a Sloe before the first frost.... here, we couldn't wait.  There will surely be a post-frost batch to follow.

Drink these wintry Gins in the depths of the season, huddled by the fire, fill a hip-flask on a blustery walk, or use for a farmhouse Kir aperitif, mixing it with home brewed Elderflower Champagne.  Right now however we're drinking a more sober homemade Blackberry + Lemonade with Water Mint.  (Juice of 3 Lemons, 100g Sugar, a few squashed Blackberries and some Water Mint leaves, topped up with Sparkling Water and Ice if you have.)