Courgette, Ricotta and Walnut Tart

A quiche simply does not look as glorious the day after.  Just-pulled from the oven this specimen billowed beauty, exhibiting crisp yellow-orange curls of courgette flowers on ricotta clouds while the heavensent scents of roasted walnuts and garlic blustered on the kitchen air... And yet today, camera in hand, it looks most mundane.  So be it.  A Courgette, Ricotta and Walnut Tart is a thing of glory - you have my word.

For the pastry: 4oz Flour 2 oz Butter 1 Egg.

Grate the cold butter into the flour, mix to breadcrumbs with the fingertips, add an egg and bring quickly into a paste.  The addition of the egg should mean you don't need any water.  Put this in the fridge for at least half an hour.

Soften two onions in butter, until translucent, sweet and not quite beginning to brown.  Remove from the pan and add four or so courgettes cut into rounds.  Fry these with lots of Garlic.  When beginning to brown remove from the heat.

Roll out the pastry on a floured surface until very thin.  Press this into a buttered quiche dish.  Pop it back in the fridge while you prepare the egg mix.

Beat four or five eggs and a pot of cream or similar (I used Mascarpone, Milk and Fromage Frais as these were to hand).  Season and I think this would be delicious with Thyme.  (I forgot to add the thyme). 

Fill the pastry with  the layer of buttery onions followed by the garlicky courgette rounds.  Pour over the egg mix (it should reach the edges of the dish).  Then place Ricotta in cloudlike spoonfuls over the top of the quiche, sprinkle with Walnuts and decorate with Courgette Flowers.

Bake about 45 mins 180C until risen through to the centre.

A thing of glory is it not?

Rainbow Carrot Cake

Ostensibly the most ordinary of Carrot Cakes this is in fact a colourful celebration of our magnificent crop - the cake is a melange of the conventional orange carrot, the Limburg yellow, and the splendidly named purple haze.   I have gone for a traditional cake: butter, spices, lemon icing.  But my foray into the world of carrot cake recipes has shown that they are many in number and variation.  This is only therefore the beginning of the odyssey.

Cream 200g Butter with 150g Sugar.  Beat in 4 Eggs.  Fold in 275g Spelt Flour, 1 tsp Baking Powder, 1 tsp Bicarb, 2 tsp Cinnamon, 1 tsp Ginger, 1 tsp Nutmeg.  Then fold in five grated multicoloured carrots, 2 in. grated Ginger and a handful of Walnuts.  Bake in a lined loaftin for about 40 mins at 180C until cooked through.

I made the icing by creaming butter and mixing in icing sugar, lemon juice, lemon zest and mascarpone to taste.   A bit too sloppy perhaps... still delicious.

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.

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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.

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.

Giant Puffball and Radiccio

In a garden in the Val d'Orcia this summer I had a plate of chicken livers that reminded me that the simplest, humblest of rural foods can be quite the greatest delicacy.  And, as one seems to compose a map of the world according to what was eaten and where, I shall here recall another meal that took place about fifteen years previously: A salad of chicken livers and other gesiers in a hilltop restaurant somewhere in the Cevennes - as we ate a storm blew up and we sat in wavering candlelight watching as bolts of lightning illuminated the valleys below.

The Tuscan Chicken Livers were served hot on some radiccio leaves, which wilted in the livers' warmth, and with toast and olive oil.  So, when we came across a multitude of Giant Puffballs last week, I decided the buttery truffley marshmallowey richness would do well against bitter red Radiccio leaves.  The Puffball was sliced and fried in butter and garlic, seasoned and placed on a bed of Radiccio.  These were eaten with a homemade Baguette, Butter and a grating of Parmesan.

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.

Spaghetti alla Vongole/Stewkey Blues

I love this picture, which captures the somewhat chaotic cockle lunch we had on Sunday.  Spaghetti alla Vongole is all about timing - timing is not my forte.  But we managed it - Cockles open, hot, Spaghetti still al dente, Samphire perhaps a touch undercooked.

Picnicking at Stiffkey (or Stewkey) on Saturday, a friend came upon a crock of the famed blue cockles, blue because of the mud they live in, and sent me home with a sackful and a recipe.  I have to admit, despite being local to Stiffkey - I have never cockled, and never eaten a cockle.

Much impressed, I set to purging them overnight in sea water with a handful of oats, that they spit the sand out.  Next day I rinsed them.  Then followed (more or less) his recipe:

Soften Shallots and Garlic in a mixture of Butter and Olive Oil.  Add about 300ml of White Wine, tiny touch of Salt and loads of Pepper and heat.  Meanwhile, get the salted water boiling for the Spaghetti.   Once the Spaghetti is in the water and boiling away, toss the Cockles into the wine, put the lid on.  Drain the Spaghetti when not quite cooked.  Shake the Cockle pan, after about 3 or 4 minutes all should be open, remove any that are still closed.  Add the Spaghetti to let it finish cooking in the winey cockley juices.  Meanwhile chop loads of Parsley, or in my case, for lack of Parsley: Spring Onions, Oregano, Rocket, Celery tops, Thyme...

Serve still hot, having removed most of the shells, with blanched Samphire on the side and doused in herbage.

This was so utterly delicious, and to my mind is even better than local Mussels.

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N.B. On the purging front it seems a few hours will suffice.

La tarte verte...

The green tart - just visible at the bottom of the picture - is a year round staple.  I have my days on Clare Island to thank for this recipe, though no doubt it appears here somewhat adulterated.  There, I remember, it is made with their Ducks' eggs and home-made Ewe's Milk Yoghurt and Cheese.  As for the greens, I think it best made with a Chard or Beet, though do alternate with Kale, with Sorrel,  with Sea Beet or Beetroot Tops, with wild or bitter greens.  Ideally throughout all the seasons there will be some wild or cultivated green abundance asking to be used in la tarte verte.

For the pastry -

In this case I have used: 4oz Flour 2oz Butter 1 Egg 1 drop of cold water (if necessary, often not).  Rub flour and butter together to breadcrumb texture, add egg, mix in with hands and if not forming a whole add the smallest drop of water.  Refrigerate.  

Try with wholemeal flours, particularly Spelt, which gives a delicious pastry.

Wash, dry and chop a large basketful of Leaf Beet, Chard or greens of choice.  Soften an Onion in butter, add the leaves handful by handful until the whole lot has reduced enough to fit into the frying pan.

Mix 3 Eggs, 1/4 pint of Cream/Yoghurt according to preference and two handfuls of grated hard Ewe's or Goat's Cheese.  To this add grated Nutmeg, Salt and Pepper.  Then add the Chard and blend the lot with a stick blender.

Roll out the pastry and press it into a tart dish.  I use my knuckles, fold it over and patch it up as and when.

Pour in the green mixture.

Bake until risen in the middle.  Say 180C 30-40 minutes.

Eat warm or cold, and (as above) with allotment salads, new-potato chips and mayo.

Courgettes à l'étouffée

By now you have eaten Courgettes raw, roasted, grilled, steamed, barbecued and stuffed.  You have made zucchini cakes and breads and pies and tarts.  You have made chutneys and jams, potted ratatouilles and even fermented a winter's worth of jars.  Still the Courgettes grow!

Courgettes à l'étouffée, literally "smothered courgettes", is an unlikely but brilliant way of cooking the fruit.  The Courgettes are cut into thick rounds, spread over a shallow non-stick pan to which a lid is tightly fitted, and cooked over a medium to high heat.  Once they begin to brown, they are turned, until coloured on both sides while still juicy in the centre.  

The magic of this recipe lies in the fact that - you will have noticed - no fat nor liquid nor extraneous substance is used to cook the Courgette.  It cooks in its own moisture.  These little courgette rounds are in fact essence of Courgette!  The difficulty is that for the full effect you should not remove the lid, except the once to turn them.  You have to trust your judgement.  

Mine are rather blacker than they should perhaps be.  But so delicious - the almost bitter exterior, the still juicy interior.  You can eat these hot or cold.  The temptation is to further smother them - in Oils and Herbs and Garlic, to toss them with Chili and Feta, to add them to Potato Salads. Do this, do all of these - and add salt and pepper, mix them with Rocket and Basil, with Grilled Halloumi, lather on Vinaigrettes, Lemon Zest, add Chickpeas or mix into Couscous.  

But first, before you do so, taste them, eat a few just as they are.

Blackberry Cake... longing for teatime

The Blackberries are definitely here.  The allotment is teeming.  I have persuaded some friends to come for tea, simply for an excuse to make a Blackberry Cake.

This is again taken from Sarah Raven's Garden Cookbook.  Mine an adulteration of her Blackcurrant and Almond Cake.

200g Butter
150g Demarara
3 Eggs
200g Ground Almonds
Zest of a Lemon
1 tsp Vanilla
200g Blackberries

Cream Sugar and Butter.  Beat in eggs.  Fold in Almonds, Vanilla and Lemon.  Put mix in tin and scatter with Blackberries.  Bake 30mins at 180C.

I added the Lemon Zest and used less Sugar.  The aim is a moist, buttery, zesty, puddingy cake with the sudden bite of the first Blackberries.  Cream wouldn't go amiss.

Just longing for teatime...

It's time for... Courgette Pie!

The joy, as here we reach the height of the Courgette season.  We have had a month or so of perpetual grilled and barbecued Courgettes, raw ribboned Courgette salads... Now it's time for Courgette Pie.  I discovered the recipe last year, it is pure Grecian indulgence - Creamy, Feta-ey Courgette between layers of Filo Pastry.  Yes, I have been longing for the glut that I might have an excuse to make it once again.

This recipe is more or less that of Greek Courgette Pie in Sarah Raven's excellent Garden Cookbook.   Simply the only cookbook I refer to once the garden is growing.  There are, I know, plenty of seasonal vegetable cookbooks, but this one, which offers multifarious homely and worldly recipes based entirely on what is growing in the garden is quite my favourite.  (More on cookbooks anon).

Grate and salt 1kg Courgettes.  Allow to drain for half and hour and squeeze out excess juice.  Fry 1 Onion and a handful of Spring Onions.  Add Courgettes and fry for 15 minutes and until liquid evaporates.

Layer 3 Filo sheets brushed with Olive Oil on both sides in the base of baking tray.  Top with Courgettes and 300g crumbled Feta.  Beat 3 Eggs with 120ml Double Cream, add any Herbs you have growing (Parsley/Dill/Basil/Thyme/Mint), the tiniest touch of Salt and Pepper.  Pour this over Courgette mix and fork in.  Fold the edges of Filo over the filling then top with 3 more sheets of Filo, brushing Olive Oil between each one.  Glaze with Milk and scatter with Sesame or Sunflower Seeds.  Prick with a fork.

Bake at 200C for an hour or so until golden, and set.

Allow to cool for half an hour before indulging.

Blackcurrant and Windfall Jam... and Raw Blackcurrant Jam

Blackcurrant is quite the headiest of summer flavours, almost musky, a touch tart, the scent of the leaves alone risks intoxicating.  I long to make cakes and sorbets and all sorts, but, better still, to capture this flavour in a jar.

The winds brought down the first Windfall Apples, and I used these to add body, texture, pectin and tartness to the Blackcurrant Jam.

2 1/2 lb ripest Blackcurrants
1/2 lb grated Windfalls
3 lb Sugar
1/2 Lemon juice of

Macerate these overnight in a bowl.  Bring to boil in a jam pan, then simmer quickly until reaches setting point.  Pot in sterilised jars.*

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I wondered a moment how to capture the raw Blackcurrant flavour, besides freezing, and remembered a recipe, again from Clare Island, for Raw Blackcurrant Jam.  This recipe uses far less sugar and has to be eaten immediately (or frozen) :

Mash Blackcurrants without crushing pips.  Beat until light.  Add sugar to 1/3 of the weight of the currants.  Beat again until light.  Pot in clean jars.  Use as jam  - not just on toast, but with yoghurt, pancakes, cakes, smoothies, on a spoon...

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*To test for setting point, put a plate in the fridge.  Put a teaspoon of the jam on the cold plate, return to fridge.  Setting point is reached if wrinkles when cool.  Sterilise clean jars by putting in oven at 100 C for 20 minutes.

Redcurrant (not) Frozen Yoghurt

Ideally for this simplest of summer recipes, you have an ice-cream maker, and a freezer.  If this is the case, you coarsely blend 500g Redcurrants (or, even better, Blackcurrants) with 100g Sugar and one pot of Yoghurt, put this in the ice-cream machine, and when ready pot and freeze, for the most fragrant and fruit-filled of summer ices.

In my case I blitzed the Redcurrants, Yoghurt, a tablespoon of Sugar and same of Elderflower Cordial, dropped in a few Blackcurrants and we ate it as it was, tart and not frozen.

This recipe comes from Clare Island Yoga Retreat Centre, where they make yoghurt of their own Sheep's milk and are likely gathering their heavenly Blackcurrants as I write...

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On the sugar front - need I say that in this and all sugary recipes those of you who prefer to use alternative sugars (agave/maple/date/fructose &c.) replace as you wish.  Note however, I do cut down on sugar, use unrefined varieties and bake on the tart side.  At the same time, I don't hesitate to express my sympathy for the too-oft villified sugarbeet. 

A new home... a new kitchen

Those of you that have followed this blog from the start will remember tales of Gardener's Cottage, where kitchen pottered into garden, and forage and firewood gathering were the order of the day, all against a backdrop of frosty winter fields.  Most of these, my former ventures, are still gathered here on the blog, please scrawl down, use the search button or refer to "best posts" and "archive".

I have since accumulated a husband, that baking boy of once-upon-a-time, a child, dear charming girl child, now nearly walking and expert at podding peas, a dilapidated townhouse and an allotment.  Today, nearly a year since I last posted I am relaunching this blog, to once again regale you with tales of la bonne bouffe - good food.  My angle will have no doubt changed since those romantic early years -  now all a-fluster with feeding a family, holding together a tumbledown home, and struggling to grow vegetables in a bramble strewn patch of ground...

Despite the ramshackle nature of the abode, Tom, husband, baker and (more to the point) joiner, has hewn a magnificent kitchen (shown), great ash work surfaces, deep drawers, shelves galore, these a woodburning stove, and giant gleaned sink, make cooking at Dow House utter joy.

Enough.

For now news is: there is Blackcurrant and Windfall Jam in the making, and we are planning a foray to the local poultry auction.

Honey and Lemon Roast Carrots

Yellow and orange Carrots roast with Honey and Lemon.  Piled on top of large grain wholemeal Couscous and Rocket.  Glamourised with Nasturtiums, Calendula Petals and Feta.  A super Sunday evening feast of allotment pickings.

Broad Beans with Chorizo, Patatas Bravas...

Fry Chorizo and Onion in Olive Oil, add blanched Broad Beans, heat through until hot, smother in Olive Oil, fresh Garlic and Spring Onions... Roast yesterday's leftover New Potatoes in Olive Oil with Rosemary.  A sort-of-Spanish feast from the allotment.

And for quite the best in Olive Oils:  I have just had a new delivery from Spain of Mother's Garden Olive Oil, it is so fresh it is buttery, almost drinkable.

Rocket Pesto

A fiery summer pesto, and a solution to all that rocket going to too quickly to seed.

My preferred pesto is one that both catches the flavours and textures of each separate ingredient, and at the same time appears as a whole, an entity unto its own.  Hmmmm.  The only guide to making it therefore is your own tastebuds.  I go about it something like this :

Fill a colander with Rocket.  Toast a handful of Sunflower Seeds. Grate some Parmesan (miss out if vegan).  Chop the Rocket by hand. [A Pesto made in a blender does not hold the beauty, the texture of a hand chopped pesto, and it really is no more efficient.]  Chop Garlic (fresh if available) with a pinch of coarse Salt.  Cover the Rocket in Olive Oil (and/or mixed with Sunflower Oil according to taste). 

Now add the other ingredients, tasting as you go, until you come to a powerful medley of the green, the nutty, the punch of Garlic, body given by the Cheese, the lot doused in Oil.  Finally, add a touch more Salt to taste.  Remembering the Parmesan is salty, but its saltiness is of a different nature to that of seasalt, you should be able to taste both.

This pesto can be eaten on bread, pasta, in potato salad, on carrots, in Vinaigrette, or in Courgette Soup ...oh the options are endless.

To preserve the pesto cover in oil, and close in a jar.  The layer of oil makes an airtight seal.  It will last about six months thus.  Or, simply freeze it.

Other Pestos :
Garden Pesto
Nettle Pesto
Wild Garlic Pesto

Oh Summer Salads

Roasted Vegetable Pasties

I made pasties to take into the woods, as the coppicing season starts again.  These are filled with a mixture of Roasted Pumpkin, Carrot and Shallots, Steamed Leeks, Ginger, Chilli, Tomatoes, Apricots and Raisins... The pastry is Wholewheat Flour, Butter, one Egg and a splash of Milk. 

The ultimate autumnal pocketable sandwich!

Chestnuts

Les Tartes aux Pommes

The season for Apple Tarts is upon us, and last night I set to on that pud suited to autumnal feasting: Une Tarte Tatin.

For the recipe see last year's post:  Tarte des Demoiselles Tatin 

It is important to use apples that don't fall to pieces, here I used Spartan, Cox and Egremont Russets.

And for the Pastry:  6oz Flour, 2oz Ground Almonds; 5oz Butter; 2oz Icing Sugar; 1 Egg; Vanilla Essence.

This morning, with the leftover pastry I made an Apple and Pear Tart.  Glazed only with Brown Sugar.

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.

Spring Eggs - Pheasant, Goose and Aracana...

I was today berated for not having written since the Garden Pesto - over a month ago.  As it is Spring, and the birds are a-laying, here is a post in celebration.  For, nothing beats the joy of a good egg.  Above, a Pheasant Egg Tart.  

Seventeen Pheasants Eggs

A friend, pruning a Fig tree, put the Pheasant Hen off her nest where she had left seventeen beautiful pink/green eggs.  Plenty for a tart.  These, the first Watercress leaves, Wild Garlic, Land Cress and Nettle tops made a  Springfilled quiche, mighty sustenance when rapidly wood-gathering before letting the forest be for the coming seasons.

The Forest

A Goose Egg

Here a Goose Egg.  Lady Goose will lay one every other day for the next eighty days.  It is enrobed in a Butterbur leaf - leaf once used to wrap butter, here wrapping an Egg.  We ate one boiled.  'Twas a dream, cooked for ten minutes from boiling, and shared between two.  I blew the second egg, for an omelette, and then wrapped it in Onion Skins, tied them with string and boiled the Egg shell thus, a mere ten, fifteen minutes.  The Pheasant's Eggs, the Goose and the Aracana will be blown and filled with Chocolate for Easter...

There is much to be said on the Egg, and, for that matter, the feather.  Gulls eggs are known to be a great delicacy - nowadays likely forage on the rooftops of local seaside towns - Lapwing eggs were once so sought after they were smuggled across borders.  Songbirds used to be trapped in France using a spinning scintillating mirror, giving the term "miroir aux alouettes" for a decoy. As for other posts on Eggs and birdish musings, see these on Turkey Eggs and Welsummers, on Chickens in Kabul, and on other feathery treats favoured by the gourmands: Woodcock on Toast and Ortolan Bunting,  not to mention that Bar Le Duc Jelly, the redcurrant pips removed using the quill of a goose...

A Garden Pesto

The snow melted, this morning I set out to see what edible greens could be found and foraged for a raw Garden Pesto.

I was hoping for Wild Garlic, but it doesn't seem to be coming up yet.  There was however a little bit of wild green:  Dandelion, Nettle, Comfrey.   And in the cultivated garden:  Land Cress, Chard, Beetroot Tops, Curly Kale, baby Leeks, Mustard,  Poached Egg Plant, Red Veined Sorrel, Fennel, Parsley, Marjoram...

I pinched the smaller leaves of all of the above and chopped the lot very finely indeed.  Toasted and ground some Cashew Nuts that were sitting around, these and some Pumpkin Seeds and Hemp seeds.  Stirred the lot into a mixture of Olive and Rapeseed Oils, added a squeeze of Garlic, some French coarse Sea Salt...
Oh!  The joy of a raw vegan Pesto from the scrapings of a winter's garden.  We ate it for lunch on some hot pasta, to pre-empt Spring.

If this is covered in a lot of oil it should store six months or so.  But it's so delicious immediately - why not feast on it these next days awaiting the first Spring Shoots...

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For when those Ramsons do appear, a recipe for Wild Garlic Pesto.

Soups and Stews

As the winter cold eventually embraces the Norfolk countryside, and I am obliged to double the numbers of socks worn, forced to better my gloved typing, I am grateful for soups, and stews, every day, morning, noon, dusk...

Pumpkin Daal

My main staple is what I call Pumpkin Daal, made simply and rapidly with a handful of red split lentils, spices and some baked Pumpkin.  I am ever thankful too for the abundance of Pumpkins, still storing well.  I have also just discovered, on the Eat Weeds blog, a "Wild Dahl", made with hedgerow seeds, which looks to inspire some change in my quotidian recipe.

Otherwise, in celebration of these Soups and Stews:

 Butter Bean and Winter Greens Stew, topped with Stale Sourdough Croutons and grated Cheese

The grated cheese adds a French style touch of luxe to this simple peasant stew.

Pumpkin and Cinnamon Soup

Although this picture was taken in the late Summer - that stunning bright sunshadow, unimaginable in today's white/grey - this is a super winter soup, thick, sweet and warming...

Pea and Cumin Soup, with Olive Oil

An all year round favourite, inspired by the discovery of Soupe de Pois Casses au Cumin in a little restaurant on the rive droit.   This can be made in the winter with frozen Peas, split or dried Peas, the latter soaked before cooking.

Tomato and Sourdough Soup

This is a recipe by Yotam Ottolenghi.  It is a soup for Tomato season, but if you happen to have bottled Summer's Tomatoes, or made Passata, these can be used.  I followed his recipe, which can be found here, skipping the Sugar and the tinned Tomatoes, and using half a pint of Tomato Passata made in Summer, extra Cumin, and Parsley instead of Coriander.  This soup brings a wonderful ray of Summer in the winter's durge.

Courgette and Basil Soup

A Summer Soup.  But a gorgeous one, so it has a line here.

Flageolet Bean and Swede Stew, with Soda Bread

Another great peasant style soup/stew, nourishing, and delicious if made with some home-made stock.

Potato and Parsley Soup, with Bacon

A delicious soup, a discovery.  Cook potatoes as per mash.  Mash with Butter and Milk, ground Mace, Salt and Pepper.  Dilute further with milk, the cooking water and a splash of white wine.  Add thinly slice Leeks and Shallots, cook very gently for ten minutes or so. Stir in a tonne of chopped Parsley at the very last minute and top with crispy Bacon if you so wish.

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.

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.

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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.

A Winter's Quiche - Roasted Pumpkin and Onion Tart with Cumin Pastry

On a winter’s night: a Quiche.

Whether to call these creations that are not Quiche Lorraine, Quiches, or as perhaps the French would:  Tartes. Or indeed, as Elizabeth David denominates:  Galettes, Fiouses, Tourtes, Flons, Flans to describe "a flat open tart".  Whether one term demands Lardons, another Gruyère, one Pâte Feuilletée another Pâte Brisée, I’m unsure.  Mrs David seems to suggest that the variations are likely regional. (French Provincial Cooking, Elizabeth David).  

Either way, this one is something of a Roasted Pumpkin and Onion Tart, with Cumin Pastry.

Pastry:  Wholemeal Wheat and Spelt, 2 tsp ground Cumin, 2tsp whole Cumin, 50g Butter, 1 Egg, a splash of cold water.  Left for twenty minutes in the cool, then rolled out.

Meanwhile roasting in the oven;  Pumpkin chunks, added to these, an Onion, cut large, a sprinkling of Paprika.  When just roast, these are laid in the pastry with some cloves of garlic, and Oven-Dried Norfolk Tomatoes, stored in Olive Oil, ‘til the depths of winter.  Need I say ‘tis a joy to have these sweet salty tomatoes at this time of year.

The Egg Mix, on this occasion, was made of: six Eggs, 1 tbsp Yogurt, 100ml Milk, Salt, Pepper.  Poured over the veg until near reaching the rim of the pastry.  The pastry was folded over the top (Is it then a Pie?)

Then cooked in the oven at about 180C for 40 mins until browning and rising.  Eaten with a Winter Slaw and steamed Purple Sprouting Brocolli doused in Lemon Juice.

Winter Slaw:  Red Cabbage, Endive, Lacto-Fermented Cucumber, Lacto-Fermented Radish, Pickled Beetroot.  Vinaigrette:  Apple Juice, Cider Vinegar, Balsamic Vinegar, Olive Oil, Sunflower Oil, grated Ginger, Garlic

I ate this one winter’s eve when a sudden bout of eggs were sent my way.  It’s also makes a nice low key Sunday meal, fitting between pruning of the Apple Trees, the turning of the compost, the planting out of Broad Beans…

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Other seasonal Quiches might include:  Leeks, Sea-Beet, Brassicas, Sorrel, Salsify, Jerusalem Artichokes.  If there are enough Nettles around you could try this Quiche: Turkey Egg and Nettle Quiche. If you fancy something slightly extravagant: Endive, Blue Cheese and Walnut is a delicious combination, especially with a few slices of Pear.  That or Boudin noir, Apple and Chestnut for something sustaining, French and all the more extravagant.