Courgette and Basil Soup

...with Cheese on Toast.  A little indulgent it has to be said, but sliced bread and melted cheese is quite the happiest addition to a bowl of Courgette Soup.  I am forced also to recall quite the most exquisite supper I had in the house of a sculptor in Colombia: cheese and garlic on toast with warm ripe figs.  Bliss.  Never since have I snubbed this cosiest of foods.  I have posted this recipe before, or, its variation: Courgette and Pesto Soup.  Because it is so brilliant, so delicious, so apparently glamourous, and yet ever humble, I feel obliged to remind you readers of it.  Who would imagine the Courgette would make a soup of such soothing creamy qualities.

On this occasion the recipe went as follows:

Fry half an Onion, tonnes of Garlic, about five Courgettes in Butter and Oil. Put the lid on to allow the Courgettes to realeae some of their own juice.  After about ten minutes, the Courgettes softening, the Onion translucent, add water or stock to the level of the veg.  Bring to boil and simmer for say ten minutes.  Blend.  Add a large handful of Basil.  Blend again.  Stir in 1 tbsp of grated Parmesan.  Taste, and this is (always) the most vital moment: the soup should have a lovely creamy whole with salty notes of Parmesan and the peppery fragrance of Basil.  Alter and season accordingly with the lightest touch of salt, some pepper.  Serve warm, drizzled with Olive Oil, sprinkled with torn leaves of Basil.

And, if wanting extra comfort, eat with Cheese on Toast.

....

The Basil and Pesto variation is made by using the same recipe as above but instead of the Basil and Parmesan. simply adding 1-2 tbsps of Pesto at the end.

Pot-Roast Partridge

I have to acknowledge having, these last few days, fed friends on the likes of Steak Tartare and Chips, dishes that are utterly inconsistent with the rustic glow I aim to emanate here.  Admittedly the Tartare was made of the finest of Norfolk cows, adorned with the yellow Yolks of my mother’s hens’ eggs, Nasturtium Capers and Lacto-Fermented Cucumber, the Chips cooked over gas by starlight in the garden.

The Tartare… preceded by raw Jerusalem Artichoke and Fennel salad, preceding Pear Cake made with the beautiful sweet Josephine pears that are best stored till now, and eaten peeled, running with sweet juices… The Tartare therefore, photogenic though it was, was not photographed.

A Pot-Roast Partridge

More in line with the wholesome theme of this blog however were last week’s Pot-Roast Partridges.  Envisage the artful cooking of the meat as in a roast, the vegetables meanwhile cooking slow in the bird’s juices, all in one pot, for a couple of hours, till the meat is falling, melting in the vegetables, the vegetables are tender but not falling apart… This is the simplest and quite my favourite way of cooking game.  (That is besides enrobing it in Cabbage as in this Rabbit and this Partridge.)

A brace of Partridge, kindly given.  Hung four days.  Plucked, Gutted.  Necks and hearts reserved for stock.  Partridge sealed in butter, stuffed with Butter, Onion, Carrots, Bay Leaves.  Swede, Celariac, Potatoes, Carrots chopped into chunks.  The Partridge lain on these in a big pot.  The mere addition of a knob of Butter, Salt, Black Pepper, an inch of water, some Herbs.   This is brought to the boil on the hob them put into the oven, with a lid on, to cook at about 150-180C for two hours.  The birds tender, the vegetables slow-cooked and rife with flavour…  Eat with the juices, a teaspoonful of jelly, and that’s all.

...

Save the carcass for stock.  Add to this vegetable peelings, the reserved necks and hearts of the birds.   Simmer covered in water overnight and use the liquid for the base of winter soups.

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

Mutton and Quince Tagine

Partly inspired, I have to admit, by Hugh FW’s Lamb and Quince Salad, which featured in The Guardian a fortnight ago, I endeavoured last week to concoct a Mutton and Quince Tajine.

It was a feast of medieval charm.  The meat falling off the shoulder of Mutton, the Quince a fragrant, if slightly tart companion to the meat.  Spicing the dish Morroccan style gave it an edge, cutting through ingredients that might otherwise have verged on stodgy.

The recipe I concocted was as follows:

Marinade

Toast 1 tbsp Cumin Seed, 1 tbsp Coriander Seed, crush.  Chop 2 Chillis.  Slice 1 Lemon.  Crush and peel 1 head of Garlic with the back of a knife.  Mix the lot in Olive Oil, adding a sprinkle of Salt, lots of Black Pepper, 1 tsp Paprika.  Rub into the shoulder of Mutton and leave to marinade for two to three hours.

Mutton in Marinade

Meanwhile cut 1 large Quince into 8 slices.  Poach very gently in water with a sprig of Rosemary, 2 tbsp of Honey for about 20 minutes.  (Normally I wouldn’t cook the veg prior to placing it in the Tagine, but Quince being such a stubborn fruit, I decided to do so.)  Remove Quince, saving liquid and mix it into Marinade with Mutton.

While these are marinating prepare the Bread Dough

I use a Nigella recipe, which I adapt only slightly.  500g White Flour (mixture Strong White and French) sprinkled with 1tsp Yeast.  Mix.  Mix 2 tbsp Yogurt with 2 tbsp Olive Oil and add a touch of warm water.  Add this to Flour mix, adding more warm water, stirring with a wooden spoon into a dough.  Knead gently.  Leave ten minutes.  Knead again.  Rise in a warm place covered in a plastic bag.

Tagine

A couple of hours before eating layer 1 large Onion, or in my case several Torpedo Shallots, in the bottom of the Tagine.  Follow this with some large slices of Pumpkin.  Seal the shoulder of Mutton.  If your Tagine is not large enough cut part of the meat off to bake separately.   Place the Quince and Mutton in the Tagine with a handful of Olives and Chillies.  Pour on the remainder of the Marinade and bring to heat.  Once the Tagine is hot, pour on the liquid saved from the Quince, adding more water if necessary to bring to reach the edges of the Tagine base.   Lid, bring to the boil, then simmer very slowly for one to two hours.

Bread

The bread should be punched down, salted one hour before eating.  It is stretched on an oiled baking tray in a warm place to prove for twenty minutes.  Then cooked at heat for 20-40 minutes until browning and bubbling.  Wrap in a tea-towel when removing from the oven to keep the crust soft.

Mutton and Quince Tagine for dinner

Serve the Tagine with Bread, a simple Cucumber Yogurt.  If necessary pour off some of the juice from the Tagine at the last minute and reduce with Rosemary to make a jus.  Serve baking hot, don’t be afraid to eat with the hands, and extra Harissa.

...

The Following day

A Mutton and Chilli Sandwich in Flatbread, leftovers were packed up for lunch-break working at the bookshop.

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For other Quince Recipes, see my Pheasant Roast with Autumn Fruits and my Quince Brandy.  For another Tagine see:  Lamb and Fig Tagine. 

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.

...

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

Part-Cured Pig with Greengages and Apples

Unfazed by a pheasant, by gizzards or liver, I have to admit to being slightly nervous about cooking cuts of meat, particularly when it comes to reared livestock: Pig, Sheep, Cow.  But De-Lish, the North-Norfolk Coast charcutier was sporting some pics of shopmade Petit Salé, and, when I saw it in life, I couldn’t resist.  I admitted my ignorance and the charcutier advised:  Wash, rinse, wash again.  Leave overnight in clean water.  Bake.  

Qu’est-ce qu’un Petit Salé?  Whence the term originates I know not, but I imagine it would be better literally translated as a little bit salted, than, as I would be tempted: small salted thing.  In English one might call it Salt Pork, or, as in a book I am currently reviewing: Simple French Cooking for English Homes (republished by Quadrille), Pickled Pork.  I quite like to think of it as Part-Cured Pig, as, I assume, were it fully cured it wouldn’t need to be cooked.

Here’s Alexandre Dumas’ recipe for Petit Salé, in one lengthy but eloquent sentence from Le grand dictionnaire de cuisine:

Pour faire le petit salé, vous coupez des poitrines de cochons en morceaux ; frottez-les de sel fin comme le lard, ajoutez-y un peu de salpêtre, arrangez-les au fur et à mesure les uns après les autres dans un pot, ayez soin de les bien fouler pour éviter qu’elle ne prennent le goût d’évent ; bouchez les vides que pourra laisser le sel, recouvrez le vas d’un linge blanc et fermez le plus hermétiquement possible et servez-vous au bout de huit ou dix jours pour mettre sur des choux ou sur ce que vous voudrez.

Otherwise, Monsieur le Charcutier suggested looking to Jane Grigson and Lindy Wildsmith for recipes.  I would imagine these are slightly more adventurous than Duras’ simplistic version above.

 Washing petit salé

So, simply:  Wash, rinse, wash. Leave overnight in clean water.  The following day however, I did get adventurous, and laid the piece of meat on a bed of Greengages and Chopped Apples, whole cloves of Garlic a knob of Butter, salt and some Red Onion before baking it at 180C for about half an hour, until cooked.  Deep pink, with a ham-like consistency, lovely and flavoured, surprisingly sweet and not too salty.  

Were I to do it again, I would sweat the onions and garlic first, and lay the Greengages etc on a bed of buttered onions.  I ate it as it was with only a spoonful of Pickled Gooseberries, to cut through any fat and aggrandize the medieval theme.

…

Next I’ll have to attempt that Petit Salé m’self…

Last night: A Huddled Banquet.

As yester'eve, the winds began to whirl, the rain to spill, the fires were lit and a simple summer supper became rather a huddled banquet.

...

Merguez on Puy Lentils

To commence: 

Sortov Brawn from De-Lish on Spelt and Linseed Sourdough with Sweet Pickled Cucumber

Followed by:

Merguez (De-Lish again) on Puy Lentils with Broad Beans

Grilled Courgettes amd Baby Leeks

Mange-Tout

Caraway and Balsamic roasted Beetroot

Goat's Yogurt with Spring Onion and Land-Cress

that Pickled Beetroot

Courgettes from the garden

Pickled Beetroot (see Recipe)

Then:

Mulled Pears

Welsh and French Goat's Cheeses

Chocolate/Almond Brownie

Panier of gifts from A and N...

in that brown-paper-package-tied-up-with-string: 
an Almond/Chocolate Brownie, baked at break o' dawn...

Slow Food Weekend, on Clare Island, Ireland

The Cove, Clare Island, looking across to Achill

Before time blankets the vibrant tastememories of last weekend’s Slow Food Galway visit to Macalla Farm, on Clare Island, let me tell…

Macalla Farm is home to the artisan, the sustainable, the innovative, regarding food and all aspects of living.  A crowd of twenty or so mainlanders boarded the Pirate Queen or another intrepid sea-faring vessel for an experiential couple of days in the ‘midst of the Macalla household.  Of course.  Of course, when the East of England was baking in temperatures of around 34C, Clare Island was shrouded in a heavy fog, interspersed with deluges unthinkable in an apparently “temperate” climate.  Indeed, the island has been battered now since April with storms ranging up to Force 12, interminable deluges, plagues of Sawfly and the like.. whilst we in the East have been begging for a drop of rain… and the gardens, although abundant were not as bountiful as previous years – the apple trees had lost not only their blossom, but their leaves… a sobering sight for those hoping to be self-sufficient.

Despite the weather, and the garden bereft, a fine show was put on for the Galway Slow-Fooders, the outline as follows:

Saturday Evening

Kir Royale (home-squeezed Blackcurrant Juice with Elderflower Champagne)

Beetroot Soup (with Coconut and Ginger), Sourdough Bread and curls of Bernie’s Island-made Butter

Swiss-Chard, Wild-Rocket and Sheep’s Cheese Tart (with Duck Eggs and home made Ewe’s cheese)

Puy Lentil, Broad Bean, Tomato and Courgette Warm Salad (using the garden’s somewhat scant offerings)

New Potatoes (variety: Sharp’s Express)

Dill Sheep’s Yogurt Dressing

Green Garden Salad, with Nasturtiums and Calendula

Blackcurrant and Strawberry Frozen Yogurts

(Blend 1lb Fruit, 100g Raw Cane Sugar, 500ml Homemade Sheep’s Yogurt.  Then place in the ice-cream maker until frozen)

Ciara’s melt-in-the-mouth Snowball Cookies

(must get hold of a recipe for these)

Lemon Verbena Tea

-- Rye and Spelt Sourdough Breadmaking Demonstration --

Sunday

Breakfast

Tonka Bean and Hazelnut Porridge

Buckwheat and Sheep’s Whey Pancakes

Rhubarb and Blackcurrant Compote

Sheep’s Yogurt

Blackcurrant and Apple Juice

Rye and Spelt Sourdough

Water-Mint Tea

-- Dairy Demonstrations – Making Sheep’s Yogurt, Kefir and Soft Ewe’s Cheese --

-- Visit to the Gardens and Polytunnels --

-- Lacto-Fermentation demonstration – making Lacto-fermented Beetroot, Cauliflower and Carrot Kimchee --

-- Visit to Ballytoughey Loom --

Buffet Lunch

Brown Rice and Seeds Salad with Lacto-Fermented Courgettes and Cauli Greens

Tabbouleh with Garden Herbs (Wild Rocket, Marjoram, Lemon-Balm, Water-Mint, Parsley, Savoury, Oregano, Chives and Borage Flowers)

Potato Salad with Lacto-Fermented Sea-Spaghetti, Chilli and Onion Greens

Courgette Antipasti

(Courgettes macerated in Olive-Oil then Grilled and stored in Oil, Herbs and Garlic)

Tzatziki (with Garden Cucumbers, Garlic, Water Mint and Sheep’s Yogurt)

Stuffed Macalla Vine-Leaves

Wild Rocket and Wild Garlic Pesto

Herby Soft Sheep’s Cheese

Strawberry and Blackcurrant Muffins

Ginger and Cardamom Tea

-- Visit to the Island Farmer’s and Craft Market --

The Cabbage Patch

…

Christophe and Ciara will be hosting a “Food Matters” course towards the end of August this year, on beautiful Clare Island.  This will be a chance to take part in hands-on workshops and to learn about the myriad aspects of sustainable living as well as enjoying informal discussions as to why food does matter in the current climate. 

We much look forward to seeing you there.

A Birthday Banquet, and Norfolk Black Turkey Egg n’ Nettle Quiche with a Spelt Pastry.

Menu:

Tea and Wholemeal Honey Cake (as per River Cottage Everyday), an Amelia variation.

HomeMade Hummus and Peter’s Yard Crackerbreads

Sardines and Asparagus bathed only in Balsamic and Olive Oil, placed thus, dripping onto the fire.

Wild-Garlic-Pesto Bread – a simple white Flat Yeast Bread rolled, risen and baked with the last scrapings of the Garlic Pesto.

Rosemary Foccacia (as above, but with Rosemary and Sél de Guérande)

Mandy’s Garden Salad: Sorrel, Ground Elder, Mint, Lettuces, Red-veined Sorrel (oh glorious!), Marjoram, Chive Flowers

Andy and Nick’s beauteous salady concoctions in equally beauteous bowls.

Norfolk Cordial’s Rhubarb and Elderflower Jelly-in-a-Jug

Coffee-Chocolate Mousse

And a Quiche…

I of course failed to take pics, ‘til the following day.  One only, of the remains of the quiche, kindly taken by Sophie Goodenough.

Norfolk Black Turkey Egg n’ Nettle Quiche with a Spelt Pastry.

Amidst the jewels at our multifarious roadside stalls: half a dozen Norfolk Black Turkey Eggs, mottled beige, larger than a duck’s and almost pointed.  So for the birthday cook-up we put our coins in the tin and took them home.

Amelia made a scrumptious wholemeal Spelt Pastry (Letheringsett Mill Wholemeal Spelt Flour, Cold Butter, Cold water)… and blind-baked it.  We then fried up half an onion in butter, added a large bowl of Nettle-Tops, Dandelion Leaves, Radish tops, rinsed… and let them wilt in the butter.  To bulk up the tart we split a few asparagus lengthways and laid them in the base.  Then, we beat four Turkey Eggs with crème fraiche, salt and pepper.  Tossed the filling together and poured in on top of the asparagus, to be then baked at about 180C for forty minutes.  And what a dreamy rich and sustaining quiche ‘twas, even providing a substantial morning-after breakfast.

"That tart was delicious! 
I wanted to dive into the picture and eat some..."
Photo by Norfolk photographer and designer Sophie Goodenough (@sophiegoodas)

The throes of the Hungry Gap...?

 

Asparagus, Broccoli, Red Celery, Leeks, Lemon-Balm, Sage, Rosemary, Marjoram, Chives, Eggs.

As we prise ourselves away, out of the torrid grip of said epoch, I am obliged to ponder the notion of this era bereft of nourishment.. indeed, as I fill yet another trug from the bountiful belly of an early Spring garden, I revoke it.

The wild greens started early, with Ransoms, and Dandelions, Nettles, Sorrel, Sea Beet in full green bloom in February… after the Spring Equinox when the roots in the ground start to turn to seed, the Leeks and Celery still sat around, and Watercress began to fill the streams (forager beware: Liver fluke), Lovage, Marjoram, Herb Patience and Fennel springing up in the garden… and now, oh prolific Purple Sprouting Broccoli abounds and, blessed days, the Asparagus are rousing, poking their dreamy heads through the straw in overnight spurts of growth.

Broccoli and Asparagus plucked and, I insist, taken without a moment’s hesitation, to the table are more akin to foods of the gods than meagre offerings of a time of famished spirits.

And in homage to these simple-yet-unearthly Spring shoots, I pray, do not then drown them in suddy boiling water, nor adulterate them in the depths of chaotic menus, the art is in allowing the essence of these vegetables to emerge.

Steam or lightly blanche the Asparagus and/or Broccoli and serve on the raw-side of cooked,  still-warm on a salad of (aforementioned) wild herbs with a squeeze of lemon, a drip of oil… for the vinaigrette-o-phile: a simple Balsamic Vinaigrette, for the glutton: Sea-Salted Butter or a home-made Hollandaise Sauce whisked with the yolks of today’s eggs, for the outdoorsy: grill the Asparagus on an open fire by night...

Game Feast

So sad to be missing the 2010 Game Feast. Hosted by Orlando Bridgeman and Patrick O'Connor. The Game Feast is an annual, intimate event of excessiveness, a celebration of winter food and drink, and a chance for people who appreciate the finer things in life to come together to compare notes. A luncheon at 4pm in the snowy climes of North Yorks. Sadly work, and it seems weather, confines me to Norfolk. But here's an amuse-bouche in the form of the Menu:

Friday night

Sherry
Harry's Essex Oysters - Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc 2000
Smoked game (or failing that, roast), celeriac rarebit - Troplong Mondot St Emilion 2004
Semi-hard cheese (St Nectaire, Tomme de Savoie, etc) - Tyrells Vat 1 Semillon 2002
Yorkshire gingerbread - Muscat De Frontignan, Chateau De La Peyrade

Saturday dinner

Aperitif - interesting sparkler/aperitif. Or Champagne.
Pheasant consommé - Sercial Madeira
Creamy Parmesan Custard - Robert Weil Kabinett 2001
Roast bone marrow on toast - Grapillon d'Or
Pasta with game sauce - Bocca di Lupa Tormaresca 2001
Haunch of venison - Rene Le Clerc Gevrey Chambertin 2002
Belgian chocolates, satsumas, clementines - Chateau Dereszla Tokaji Aszu 5*
Hard and semi-hard cheese - Troplong Mondot and whatever is left.