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.

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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

Lacto-Fermentation, what's bubbling now...

I won't extrapolate once again about the whys and how-tos of Lacto-Fermentation, I do so all-too-often, and the chat can be found on this blog:  here and particularly in this article that appeared in Permaculture Magazine last year, and also of course on Sandor Ellix Katz's fab Wild Fermentation website.

I thought simply, as I chopped green and purple French beans this afternoon, to share what's fermenting at home now, to show what a range of vegetables can be preserved using this method.  As well as the sauerkraut that I made at the end of July and am eating away - for lunch today with beef carpaccio, raw baby yellow courgettes, cucumber and brown rice with toasted pumpkin seeds...

In the pots fermenting are the following:

Lacto-Fermented Cauliflower (1/2 lt jar)
And, in that jar:  1 Cauli head; 5g Salt; 1tsp whole Cumin; Blackcurrant Leaves; Parsley; Spring Onions; Water.

For those that can't stomach cauliflower this is a great alternative to the cheese sauce disguise, it really peps up the cauliflower, and makes of something dull a spritely veg, excellent too in curries and stir-frys.

Lacto-Fermented Courgettes (1lt jar)
In the jar: Sliced Courgette; Fennel Seedheads; Spring Onions; Fennel Leaves; 10g Salt; Blackcurrant Leaves; Water.

Lacto-fermented Cucumbers and Radishes
3 Whole Cucumbers (pricked); 5 Radishes; Blackcurrant Leaves; fennel Seedheads; Landcress; Rocket; Red Mustard; 10g Salt; Water.

Lacto-Fermented Beans
And this afternoon I made these beans, chopped with Fennel Leaves, 5g of Salt and 3tbsp of Cow's Whey (left over from home-made Cheese), squashed down and covered with water.  The Whey is thick with lactobacilli and works as an alternative catalyst to blackcurrant leaves.  I'll also be doing Lacto-fermented Beetroot, a real favourite, in the next few days.

Lacto-Fermented Horseradish

As with all Lacto-Fermentation, this recipe is subject to experimentation, and depends on what you have to hand.  Here I grated Horseradish, muddled it with Parsley and Radish Tops.  Stuffed the lot in jars with 10g or salt to 1lt jar (in this case 2.5g to 250ml Jar).  Pressed in tight and covered in water.  Left a few days at room-temperature, when obviously fermenting moved to a cool-dark place.

Eat at your leisure, keeping the horseradish out of the air by consistently checking and topping up the layer of water.

Eat with Beef, Mackerel, or Beetroot... Or trying tossing into a 'Slaw to spark it up.

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For further information on Lacto-Fermentation, please refer to other posts.

Spring Shoots - Nettle, Sorrel, Dandelion, Sea Beet

This is the second part of the article that appeared in Permaculture Magazine, 65, Spring 2011.

 

 

Sea Beet

NETTLE, SORREL, DANDELION and SEA BEET

The lengthening days herald Spring and the first new shoots.  Young, green, tender, these first greens are the best to be had.  Purging and purifying after the heavy winter vittles, their appearance, like that of the first blossom, is joy!   Surely the best way to salute the arrival of these greens is to gather a handful of each and, keeping the Nettles aside, to throw them together as a bright salad.  Chop up the Nettles very finely to break the stinging needles, mix with garlic, olive oil and vinegar, for a simple Nettle vinaigrette to pour over the salad. 

NETTLE – Urtica dioica

High in protein, Iron and Vitamin C, Nettles are a sturdy and popular spring green.    They appear early, and their young tops are the best parts to use.  As well as eating them fresh, they can be picked and dried for teas or frozen as greens for stir-frys, tarts and soups.

Nettle Pesto

Chop 500g fresh Nettles finely.  Add to this 250g of Pine nuts toasted and crushed (lay in a tea towel and roll over with a rolling pin), the same of coarsely grated parmesan, a lot of finely chopped garlic (for garlic lovers as much as a whole head) and coarse sea-salt to taste.   Mix lightly with a favourite olive oil, until it reaches a chunky, thick consistency.    Serve the pesto with pasta, spread on bread, add to courgette soup.  Freeze or pot and pasteurise.

The recipe can be done with a blender, but the oil tends to emulsify and create a brown sludge.  Chopping all the ingredients separately by hand creates a vibrant green pesto of myriad textures. 

Vegans can replace the parmesan with sunflower seeds.

Those nettle-venturers who are not yet convinced aficionados might want to supplement half the nettles with a more docile green, such as rocket, basil or sorrel…

SORREL – Rumex acetosa

One of my favourite wild greens, Common Sorrel is much like French Sorrel in appearance and flavour.  It is perennial and grows vivaciously all over the UK and Ireland.  A Rumex, it is related to the dreaded dock, and forms a similar seed-head in Summer.  Like Oca, it is high in oxalic acid, giving it a sour, lemony bite.  The wild version is much stronger in taste than the French, cultivated variety.  Like all the other greens it can be eaten raw in salad, chopped into a vinaigrette, wilted, steamed or stir fryed – although the flavour remains good when cooked, it does lose its emerald green colour to become a sludgy khaki.  If you don’t mind the colour, then just use sorrel in the following recipe for a really sharp flavour, otherwise mix sorrel with other greens, such as young spinach or sea-beet.

Sorrel tart

On a blind-baked pastry case layer buttered softened onions, wilted sorrel and chunks of blue cheese. (In Norfolk Mrs Temple’s “Binham Blue” is a particularly good local alternative to Stilton).  Whisk 4 eggs (duck eggs are very good in this wild and rich tart), mix with a small pot of Crème Fraiche and a dollop of milk.  Pour the egg mix up to the edges of the tart and cook for about twenty to thirty minutes at 180C, or until the egg is cooked.  The quiche should be starting to brown on top and risen in the middle.

DANDELION – Taraxacum officianalis

The name comes from the French “dents-de-lion” (lion’s teeth) due to the toothed leaves.  The French actually call the plant “pissenlit” (wet-the-bed), as it is a well-known diuretic.  As well as a diuretic, Dandelion is a versatile detox.  In tea or tincture it is good for the liver and kidneys, as well as for the bladder and it is used by those suffering from anaemia.  It can be eaten raw, picked green or blanched (grown in the dark – easy to do at home, under a bucket, as rhubarb, endive…), and again, stir-fryed, steamed, added to soups, casseroles or stir-frys.

A favourite memory of feasting on dandelions was in France, where they are quite a common form of sustenance.  As the first swallows sailed in to announce Spring we picked great handfuls of dandelions and served them as they were, the leaves and the flowers, bathed in vinaigrette, tossed only with a few compulsory lardons and a baguette, spread on a table in the sun on the side of a village road.

  

Dandelion Salad

Use the youngest and most vibrant dandelion leaves.  Cut out the stalks of any larger ones as they can be bitter.  Toss in vinaigrette.  Add lardons if desired.  Finish with a mass of flowerheads.  Serve when the swallows arrive for a glorious sun-shone spring salad.

SEA BEET – Beta vulgaris sp. maritima

Growing on the edge of the marshes, and along the coast, Sea Beet is a staple spring green.  Recognised by its thick, fleshy leaves, shaped as arrowheads in a rosette, it can grow into a large shrub.  Although it is apparent year round, in Spring it provides an early source of substantial greens.  It has a good texture and rich flavour and is used like spinach in a variety of recipes.   Blanche it, steam it, stir fry, wilt or fill tarts with it.  Or serve with fish or shellfish to continue the coastal theme.

Stir-fryed Sea-Beet.

Stir fry young sea-beet leaves with onions, garlic and caraway seeds in olive oil.  At the last minute douse with Tamari and Balsamic Vinegar.  Serve on its own or on the top of Puy Lentils with a spoonful of yogurt.

Winter Roots - Oca, Salsify, Jerusalem Artichoke

Vaguely untimely, this article appeared in Permaculture Magazine, (67, Spring 2011), Part 2 to follow shortly...

Wearied of frostbitten greens, sprouts and mincemeat, pickles and preserves, the temptation is to plunge, without a glance backward, into the onset of Spring.  I would first like to offer one last eulogy to winter vegetables, to three of the less common and more remarkable tubers, hoarded in the dank depths of the vegetable underworld.

JERUSALEM ARTICHOKE, OCA and SALSIFY

These, beside their ruddy counterparts, are the rockstars of the roots: sultry, elegant, with extravagant tastes, ebullient spirits…  But this isn’t about their looks.  Stubby, grubby and hairy, they are the sweetest, the most delicate flavoured, most exotic of the roots.

JERUSALEM ARTICHOKE – Helianthus tuberosus

Towering eight-feet-high in triffid-esque arrogance, the stalks nodding with yellow flowerheads at the height of Summer, the Jerusalem Artichoke, also known as the Sunchoke, is related to the Sunflower.  Indeed, the name Jerusalem is thought to come from a confusion with the original name, originating in Peru, the Girasol. They are one of the most labour-free plants to grow, and if a few tubers are left in the ground when harvesting, will provide a crop the following year.  Unfortunately, the Jerusalem Artichoke is famed for being the cause of foul wind and tortuous flatulence – I have yet to hear of a sure-fire remedy.  But their sweet, delicate flavour, reminiscent of artichokes, keeps me growing and eating them.  As for the baneful after-effects I have a couple of suggestions.  Don’t eat Jerusalem Artichokes in large quantities and try and combine them with herbs and spices that ease digestion such as fennel, bay and cumin.  I also take the time to first peel and blanche the vegetables in acidulated water (add vinegar or lemon-juice), which is then discarded, in an attempt to lessen the effects. 

You can roast, soup and mash Jerusalem artichokes, or eat them raw as, somewhat surprisingly, you can most roots… Their reputation has taken a recent upturn and they are to be found, in the form of diaphanous Soufflés and Veloutés, in the very highest realms of haute cuisine.

Jerusalem Artichoke Purée

Purée Jerusalem Artichokes for a jazzed-up variation on mashed potatoes.  Peel, then boil in acidulated water with a potato.  When beginning to fall apart, drain and blend with butter and black pepper.

Jerusalem Artichoke Salad

For the sassiest raw Winter salad.  Slice very thinly, cover immediately with lemon juice to prevent discolouring.  Add walnut oil and toss with toasted walnuts.  Sprinkle with chives or an available green.

SALSIFY- Tragopogon porrifolius

Salsify, or Scorzanera – the two varieties vary only slightly – can be planted in Autumn for a Winter harvest.  A showering grass-like fountain above ground, Salsify tapers to a long hairy root.  It is related to the Jerusalem Artichoke but, fortunately, did not inherit the side effects.  Its taste is light and difficult to define, somewhere between oysters, chestnut and coconut.  It can be put in gratin, and the Irish chef Dennis Cotter, of Café Paradiso renown, braises it with star anise...  I think, as with all these delicate roots, it’s best as it is.

Salsify as it is

Boil unpeeled for twenty to thirty minutes in acidulated water (it exudes a sticky, milky sap and discolours).  Once cooked slip off the skin and add a squeeze of lemon juice or Umeboshi seasoning for a breathtaking combination.  A nut-oil or a knob of butter gives a gentler flavour.  Serve warm with salt and pepper to taste. 

OCA – Oxalis tuberosa

Oca, long unknown, has likewise recently hit the headlines of haute cuisine.  The tubers are planted like potatoes in Spring and grow slowly to be harvested in the depths of Winter.  A shrub of shamrock shaped leaves and pretty yellow flowers, it originates in Latin America.  The leaves and flowers are edible and make pretty additions to Summer salads, but the plant is high in oxalic-acid so beware of gorging!

Oca on the table

Like a lemon-scented new potato in the depths of December, the tuber is a welcome addition to the Winter table.  Serve as new potatoes for that Summer zing, roast in their skins with garlic and rosemary for a taste of Italy, or cook up with cinnamon, ground ginger and orange rind for a festive feel. 

Sourdough Skill-Share

Camilla Storm's lovely pictures of Sourdough Skill-Sharing on Patrick Whitefield's Sustainable Land Use Course at Ragman's Lane Farm in Gloucestershire.

And some comments once back home:

I would like to report a thoroughly successful sour dough experience in my kitchen! I was worried the starter may explode on the hot train journey, but it endured and Doug is fully won over on the lovely loaves :) thanks so much ladies - the mother dough lineage continues! (Cari)

I have also had a great time with the bread, and passed the skill on to my daughters (and blogged about it here should anybody be interested)  and they love the bread and have been extolling its virtues at school! (Jackie)

I have used your sour dough with my conventional process (not wet) and it has worked very well producing a delicious bread. (M)
 
Made up some bread last weekend but managed to badly burn it in the electric oven. Trying again this weekend, in the AGA, after I've cleaned the burner. (R)

Photographs courtesy of Camilla Storm

Sourdough-a-dough-dough

 

Sourdough Muffins chez Ed 'n' Ali

 

Banqueting yester’ eve with permacultural friends, Ali and Ed, so-sadly-so-soon fleeing the county, ‘midst the household gifts offered in flight, (hosepipe, tentpoles, belt, all of utter usefulness) a screw-top jar of: Rye Sourdough Starter.

This starter is reputed to be over twenty years old, gleaned from deepest Russia by Andrew Whitley (of chef-d’oeuvre Bread Matters), gifted through many hands, to now reach my own. 

I have stirred it up (Starter, Organic Rye Flour, Water, Salt) into a very wet mix, and it sits rising downstairs.  Rye is low in gluten so doesn’t have to be kneaded and stretched like high-gluten doughs, and as Mr Whitley says, it turns out like concrete unless it is very wet…

Only a fortnight before had I first tasted this Rye Sourdough, and fallen to my knees in a plea for a fistful of the stuff, on that occasion Ed had solved the issue of wet-sourdough rolls by stuffing the wed-kneaded dough into muffin trays…(see pic)

Slow-risen the flavour develops fully, the Rye has sharp nutty taste and the sourness gives it a real depth, like a blackbread of Eastern Europe.

Last night’s loaves had hollow backs, they had slightly sunk in cooking.  After some amateur troubleshooting we decided the dough had over-risen. 

 

Recognise over-risen sourdough by a very bubbly surface that is starting to drape and looks as though were you to stick your finger in, or shake the loaf-tin, the whole thing would collapse.

Winter Roots, Spring Shoots in Permaculture Magazine

I have an article containing quite a bundle of Seasonal recipes, from the cultivated root (Oca, Salsify, Jerusalem Artichokes) to the foraged green (Nettles, Sea Beet, Dandelion, Sorrel) in this quarter’s Permaculture Magazine.  I won’t yet divulge the secrets, but you can get hold of a copy here – this issue also contains lots of  inspired writing on growing Fruits in Hedgerows, Figs, even Hopps, and why not adopt a local Apple Tree...