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.

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…

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...breakfasting on leftovers

Winter Feasting (ii) - Venison and Game Terrines

In a moment of over-zealous Christmas jollity, a last-minute festive feast was planned, friends were invited, crockery searched out, rugs shook, candles borrowed, firewood cut, a Christmas Tree erected.  Long debates necessarily ensued over the menu, how to seat and feed such numbers, more to the point, on what… So it was that we settled on a variety of cold Terrines, and on Boxing Day, while others slept off their Christmas indulgence, banqueted languorously on cold cuts, on Tongue and the previous day’s Plum Pudding, or set themselves up for a serious bout of telly-watching, we mopped our brows and set to concocting Terrines.

Now, it has to be said that a Terrine, like a Chutney, improves with age.  If covered with Goose fat, or clarified butter, it can happily last a week, longer even.  Time however, had pressed us to last minute structuring, and I have to say these seemed none the worse off for having sat a mere twenty-four hours.  Both of us claiming to be experts, and each distrusting the other’s method, cookery books – Elizabeth David, Constance Spry, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall – were heavily consulted.  Eventually we took ideas from all, a hefty pinch of common sense, of foody inspiration and adoration… and the recipe that follows is what we came up with.

Before I begin however, two things:  Firstly, a Terrine is simply a Pâté, made in a terrine dish.  Once you have the method you can adulterate it as you wish, adding and removing ingredients according to preference or what is available.  That said, I have known a Terrine to fall apart, so I do suggest having at least equal quantities of farce to chopped meat.  Secondly, in a burst of immodesty, I have to say these were the best Terrines I have ever eaten, not only did they look sublime, but the flavourings, the texture, the moistness, all combined to make them taste utterly heavenly, and quite worthy of French charcuterie…  Whether this is repeatable simply by following a recipe, I don’t know – but do have a go, and do let me know.

The following should fill three two pint Terrine dishes.

For the Farce:

2lb Sausage Meat

½ lb Pheasant Livers

8 Chestnuts

6 Dried Figs

6 Dried Apricots

Sage

Rosemary

Thyme

15 Juniper Berries

2 Blades Mace

1 Egg

1 tea-cup White Wine

Black Pepper

Chop the Pheasant Livers; Roast the Chestnuts; 

Soak the chopped Figs and Apricots

The Farce is literally the stuffing, it holds the Terrine together.  To make it, first chop the Pheasant (or Chicken) Livers very small, keeping any blood; Roast the Chestnuts and peel them, breaking them into small bits; Soak the chopped Figs and Apricots in hot water; Crush the herbs and spices (to taste).  Then mix all ingredients, including the blood from the Pheasant Livers.  Season with Black Pepper.  If you find you want to further moisten the mixture, you can use the water the fruit soaked in.  If you want to dry it or bulk it out, use stale Breadcrumbs or Oatmeal.

Crush the herbs and spices

For one Venison Terrine, one Pheasant Terrine, one Venison and Pheasant Terrine:

1 ½  lb Pheasant meat

1 ½   lb Venison

21b streaky Bacon

Bay Leaves

Thus using about 1lb of meat in each Terrine.  The meat should be in pieces, but chopped thinly so it can be lain in layers through the Terrine.  Stretch the Bacon on a chopping board using the back of a knife.  Any Bacon Fat or bits that break off can be added to the Farce.  Line Terrine dishes, or Loaf Tins with the Bacon, leaving enough so it can fold over the top and wrap around the whole Terrine.  You can place Bay Leaves or other Herbs in the base, these will produce a pattern when the Terrine is turned out.

Line Terrine dishes with Bacon

Now layer Farce, followed by meat in thin layers, to fill the Terrine.  Aim to commence and finish with Farce, so that the Terrine holds together.  In the Venison Terrine I added a layer of Bar-Le-Duc Redcurrant Jelly, made this Summer, after the Meat, this added a tart sweetness to the Terrine.  

Finally the Bacon is wrapped around, tucked in and the Terrines are covered and cooked for 1 ½ to 2 hours in a Bain-Marie at 160-180C until firm, shrunken from the sides, the juices running clear when a knife is stuck in.

Any juices will eventually form a jelly when the Terrine cools.  If you are fortunate this might even enrobe the sides and top of the Terrine when turned out and provide a delicious glaze – ours slipped off.  The Terrines are then left, pressed under a weight to finalise the togetherness of the Terrine and to create a flat base for when they are turned out.   Leave for up to three days, or, if longer cover with a fat, or freeze. Turn them out prior to serving using a butter knife to slip around the edges.

When sliced, all the layers of meat and farce, as well as the fruits and nuts become apparent:

...to follow: the entire feast.  

Winter Feasting - Partridge; Beef Stouties; Celeriac Gratin; Woodcock on Toast

I haven’t blogged this last month, but I have certainly been eating.  Winter staples, repeated ad infinitum, which we fail to bore of, and so banal I haven’t photographed them are:  Puy Lentils, seasoned with Herbs, Garlic, a dash of Balsamic, of Soy Sauce, of Red Wine, sometimes Bacon... and Cabbage, cooked long and slow in home-made Apple Cider Vinegar, with Carrots or Onions, Beetroot or Marrow, Caraway or Sage, whatever comes to hand.  These bring repeated joy and are quite my favourite foods of a frugal winter, nourishing and full of simple vitamins, piping hot coursing right to the soul…

There have however been occasions of more flamboyant feasting, and, while I failed to note down the exact recipes, I have some photos, and share them here:

Perdriz aux Choux - Patridge cooked in Cabbage

The Partridge a gift, the recipe was taken directly from Elizabeth David's French Country Cooking.  It is the same recipe I used for the Rabbit in October, and you can find it here.  The only adulterations were the additions of Russet Apples and Jerusalem Artichokes to Mrs David's recipe, to not use Sugar, and to cook it in Apple Cider Vinegar.

Beef Stouties with Flageolet Beans

These come from Charcutier Jules of De-Lish.  The Stouties I believe are Beef and Horseradish Sausages soaked in Stout - he'll no doubt correct me.  I cooked them in Onions and a can of Bitter, added the liquid to some Flageolet Beans (cooked previously with herbs), then plunged the whole lot together and baked it in the oven.  This was eaten with Jerusalem Artichoke and Potato Mash and slow-cooked sweet vinegary Cabbage.

Celeriac and Marrow Gratin

This recipe is originally, I hear, a Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall creation.  I picked it up on Clare Island, and added the Marrow to fill the pot.  Steam thinly sliced Celeriac and fry off peeled half moons of Marrow.  Layer the lot with Olive Oil, Creme Fraiche, Yogurt, Garlic, Chilli, Salt and Pepper in an ovenproof dish.  Cover and cook slowly for about forty minutes. At the last minute top with Curd or similar Fresh Cheese and place under the grill.

This is very rich and doesn't really need an accompaniment - some bread perhaps to mop it up, or a bowl of rice.

Woodcock on Toast with Pickled Crabapples

Le Piece de Resistance - I have always thought Woodcock on Toast quite the sexiest rustic dish, though, need I say, it is utterly inappropriate for the squeamish.  The bird is cooked with all its innards minus the gizzard (remove using your little finger once plucked), its beak spiked through the body, holding the legs together and a piece of bacon over the breast.  A mere eight to twenty minutes, if that, then the Bacon is removed, the guts scraped out, fried with the chopped Bacon, Butter and Port, Salt and Pepper, then spread on toast.  The Woodcock is sat beside, on a separate piece of Toast.

The whole bird is eaten and the ritual approaches that of the Ortolan Bunting.  It is an utter dream, the flavours are rich, indeed, exquisite.   Despite being miniscule, the dish is very filling, often served as  a starter I would suggest this as a main, perhaps with something sharp and light aterwards to cut through the heavenly richness.  Serve with a deep peppery and robust Red Wine.  Here we ate it with the Pickled Crabapples, which stood up superbly and smartly complemented the rich flavours of the bird.

I know a boy who bakes...

I know a boy who bakes...

His technique honed over many a long Georgian winter

Strong Organic White Flour; Easy-blend Yeast;
Rock Salt; Table Salt; Demerara Sugar

He adds water, at body temperature to the dry mix...

Then kneads the dough:

Kneaded, he adds some water, again wetting the dough...

And, while we drink Coffee, rises it warm

The dough, risen to more than double its original size,

is scooped from the bowl, cut into three,

briefly kneaded by folding,

placed on a baking tray, 

 

slashed

...and proven a second time

...while we hunt for Mushrooms to adorn our breakfast

On our return, the bread is baked, left a moment to cool,

then eaten with Baked Eggs and Ham, a plate of Mushrooms,
a Sunday morning...