tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31158613888083879122024-03-05T08:01:57.464+00:00A Taste of TottenhamGrowing, cooking and eating in Tottenham, north London (while Mouse checks in the shopping)franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.comBlogger115125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-63577687697742823762011-01-03T18:27:00.001+00:002011-01-03T19:24:59.755+00:00New Year's Feast<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkvyxOc-wRXVikq7Oc9lkK1AW25WPikHBzmh8Zp_pbc73ihLBUUtL6SXfXbf1uNJp-E_PSGsHtTRikNIRKPjw-gEff2frpRox40PeggQvxzeIRKJpY9dtTsYRPlMrB-ClYqPYEq2R6o5Fk/s1600/nye1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="305" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkvyxOc-wRXVikq7Oc9lkK1AW25WPikHBzmh8Zp_pbc73ihLBUUtL6SXfXbf1uNJp-E_PSGsHtTRikNIRKPjw-gEff2frpRox40PeggQvxzeIRKJpY9dtTsYRPlMrB-ClYqPYEq2R6o5Fk/s400/nye1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A new year's eve feast is a tradition with J and me...with me enjoying a fabulous cook-out while still not having figured out how to turn J's oven on. One year I'll get it right. This year's meal was eastern mediterranean, and many of the dishes came from Silvena Rowe's lovely <em>Purple Citrus and Sweet Perfume</em> - definately one of my cookbooks of the year. The book's focus is on Syria and Turkey, and there's one recipe for a nasturtium flower sauce that I can't wait to try once the allotment is in full bloom. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDBFlIgRMecTP2OOuV_rw5vdre78Ax9hcrhEAGHvhjkdlcvpiirfmoYdXE7YELohxXUbU6f9wqQN8jJZEFJQ0nDMONgFZkvkEEPyFr5lc8XVnXPn2JXMjP-BW7AnSAslENEL1_U490rdNL/s1600/nye2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDBFlIgRMecTP2OOuV_rw5vdre78Ax9hcrhEAGHvhjkdlcvpiirfmoYdXE7YELohxXUbU6f9wqQN8jJZEFJQ0nDMONgFZkvkEEPyFr5lc8XVnXPn2JXMjP-BW7AnSAslENEL1_U490rdNL/s320/nye2.jpg" width="275" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The rest of the meal had a certain Claudia Rodin feel, as I can never resist an excuse to make her tarator sauce. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8V5FgeUg__GETs_QTfAMbjRWXqqTWFliCr3kaenSU094tc1Q_-WUKCAeRHhfajGwwkrpNaDc0V3Jhd50uYS2tkfe6oH2gxjStDNl39e5CbSafx0rJTSSlz96PpWX5yY9E6VMzkw6h1XFg/s1600/nye3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="271" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8V5FgeUg__GETs_QTfAMbjRWXqqTWFliCr3kaenSU094tc1Q_-WUKCAeRHhfajGwwkrpNaDc0V3Jhd50uYS2tkfe6oH2gxjStDNl39e5CbSafx0rJTSSlz96PpWX5yY9E6VMzkw6h1XFg/s400/nye3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">First up, we have some little not-so-flat breads, made to a recipe from a recent Sainsbury's Magazine. I've never used a bread mix before, being a baking snob, but what with it being a lazy time of year, I followed instructions and bought a packet of <a href="http://www.wrightsflour.co.uk/index.aspx">Wright's</a> ciabatta bread mix, adding some fresh thyme to the mixture. Then I packed it up in a lock and lock food box...but by the time my train arrived in Bucks, the proved dough was oozing gently through one of the locks that it had broken in a bid to escape. Quite a riser...and it was quickly knocked back and torn into little pillow shapes. These merrily rose again, and once I'd slapped on some olive oil and za'atar and bunged them in the oven, they emerged, smelling like perfumed cushions. Tasted damn good too. I think I'll be using that bread mix again. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The green salad is watercress, avacado, tomatoes, red onion and parsley with a dressing of pomagranate mollases, lemon juice, sumac and olive oil. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7TgGj7M-EDlWHgZo1ezgLZDqxe5nBXcood5aDnhqpl5LBEeRTx5NQsg6oxC103bCnEOiTqOtgXY6aqtnP6HmggSD5i2hh8GqYkolAmnFMUzG7qSbiUugmwtPF6vMSGPf3EWGqfiR51Wwk/s1600/nye4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7TgGj7M-EDlWHgZo1ezgLZDqxe5nBXcood5aDnhqpl5LBEeRTx5NQsg6oxC103bCnEOiTqOtgXY6aqtnP6HmggSD5i2hh8GqYkolAmnFMUzG7qSbiUugmwtPF6vMSGPf3EWGqfiR51Wwk/s400/nye4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Next up are kebabs from the Gaziantep region of Turkey - ground pistachios combine with minced lamb and a dreamy spice mix that includes cardomon, cumin, paprika, cloves, coriander, cinnamon and nutmeg. These were a huge hit, with Izzie the lab scoffing a couple too. Defying authenticity, I added halloumi to the menu because we both love this hot rubbery cheesy hit. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiub0THtDbzhKu6bzXaqzZCJ6qQKVftNylxhEvawt6ERswtWMaEJt_jmer50MUxY-pwvkBy2lEFolMSfoRVw43RuxMg6u2v66HRB0oYBYAT5xwbd0UAhyJZsLw2qpfL0sDKq3JlE4oJzK-8/s1600/nye5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiub0THtDbzhKu6bzXaqzZCJ6qQKVftNylxhEvawt6ERswtWMaEJt_jmer50MUxY-pwvkBy2lEFolMSfoRVw43RuxMg6u2v66HRB0oYBYAT5xwbd0UAhyJZsLw2qpfL0sDKq3JlE4oJzK-8/s400/nye5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Giant beans were sneaked onto the menu in honour of our Skiathos holiday. The outrageous purple is beetroot moutabel - a garish but delicious combination of roast beet, tahini, yoghurt and olive oil. The carrot and pink grapefruit salad is my version of the Moroccan carrot and orange classic. And finally we have a cooling salad of cucumber, pistachio, mint, dill, yoghurt and pomagranite seeds. Yum. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhobmAF6RY81ZQrZojnVO2WafH_tlSN5h8dUvQI_H1jDySuUbRqU3lgNmavBjW1l8RmErjozC2MjO6QAQW7Llqw5XMjsp2Jnt8bDHaVCJBgpXT5g2Z_Okxerbyyby0DXPhVfmeMpKT6559Y/s1600/nye6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhobmAF6RY81ZQrZojnVO2WafH_tlSN5h8dUvQI_H1jDySuUbRqU3lgNmavBjW1l8RmErjozC2MjO6QAQW7Llqw5XMjsp2Jnt8bDHaVCJBgpXT5g2Z_Okxerbyyby0DXPhVfmeMpKT6559Y/s400/nye6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As usual, I loved devising it, cooking it and scoffing it. Very few things beat cooking for your best mate then gobbling up the food with beer and good conversation. </div><div align="left">Happy 2011 to everyone!</div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-41042134560596175752010-09-16T21:42:00.002+01:002010-09-17T09:08:42.938+01:00Lunch at Launceston PlaceYesterday @titianred treated me to lunch - and it was the opportunity for us to both sample the delights of <a href="http://www.launcestonplace-restaurant.co.uk/?gclid=CLWBpKXbjKQCFc792AodaXRHIw">Launceston Place</a>. The restaurant first came to my attention when the lovely Steve Groves, sous chef there, won Celebrity Masterchef last year. His food was amazing, and after he won, he chose to stay as he said he was learning so much. And food bloggers have written delighted posts about the place. We spent a very happy morning goggling in the jewellery gallery at the V&A and, appetites aroused, staggered across to leafy Launceston Place, standing quietly in a leafy corner of South Ken. Comfortably seated next to the window, we perused both lunch menus but stuck to budget with the three course £20 lunch. Astonishing value, as it turned out. Before our starters arrived, we were presented with an amuse bouche of yoghurt sorbet and lightly pickled diced cucumber. This boded well, as the icey silkiness disappeared. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2UGaz0h-L2KpQVfFBnsJzT_SoASKFRHcAq-9zGj0HjqpYfqkol3Fxgz16A1bQEHZ1R8Swmz00AZKChzEVAMrCcR3yEIGkDUr02K9JVd9cmkwJ2IDCVEIzmEdDqeyMLQWj2-NCTM9e0a4k/s1600/henri1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="347" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2UGaz0h-L2KpQVfFBnsJzT_SoASKFRHcAq-9zGj0HjqpYfqkol3Fxgz16A1bQEHZ1R8Swmz00AZKChzEVAMrCcR3yEIGkDUr02K9JVd9cmkwJ2IDCVEIzmEdDqeyMLQWj2-NCTM9e0a4k/s400/henri1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then the bread - a lovely sourdough - and butter arrived. We suspected that the butter-on-a-pebble is a Launceston Place tease to see which customers can perfect butter balancing. Our butter slid from side to side but did stay put. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOQgnWrB06T-k7CK1Ve5F53sJJ8COC4Ma4F7T1tzJ5Fw025ANswAtSr9WNmxTcUn_fmiVxzHzBoWbhcKaRXLWttpxQW6CJhSTIlq26hJDAur_AmHjFhY7Pz94LDv1yAYizisaOB5gUF-Dl/s1600/henri2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="371" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOQgnWrB06T-k7CK1Ve5F53sJJ8COC4Ma4F7T1tzJ5Fw025ANswAtSr9WNmxTcUn_fmiVxzHzBoWbhcKaRXLWttpxQW6CJhSTIlq26hJDAur_AmHjFhY7Pz94LDv1yAYizisaOB5gUF-Dl/s400/henri2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Was it yoghurt sorbet or ice cream? Not sure, but it was lovely. And soon gone. The starters arrived as soon as we were finished. Henri had gone with a beef, beet and wild garlic rissotto. With a bone that looked just like my father's napkin ring.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD0XMSCvf7ne1yf40pWcLWoOzeb3eSlK46o05h6CW7xouI4zuxG7GUrbLAJv7GeUkg3DLPZQteslXvdnPCTlW28Z-xAVIY-0giGL4oAV-ol6AtZIN_u7vdMFJBHNCt1GEwECjhaTO23muk/s1600/henri3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="312" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD0XMSCvf7ne1yf40pWcLWoOzeb3eSlK46o05h6CW7xouI4zuxG7GUrbLAJv7GeUkg3DLPZQteslXvdnPCTlW28Z-xAVIY-0giGL4oAV-ol6AtZIN_u7vdMFJBHNCt1GEwECjhaTO23muk/s400/henri3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Henri was uttering quiet squeaks of joy. I sneaked a mouthful and it was fabulous, with melting marrow and an intense blast of flavour. Henri took a bite of my starter and said, 'That's lovely, but I'm glad I'm having mine,' which is exactly how I felt.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4cfeCavK_ho9nE8MKCPwojXi1vGoLrMsD4gPOsg-Eu38dIztBxRHl4LkO5wuLZcytj6HULlZsQYh9v76IZjNDtOeih_Q-qHQaaMY23mGwWtq5kF4UnHRRe1VZXaBFnJuPMuYRj-WeKrav/s1600/henri4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="308" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4cfeCavK_ho9nE8MKCPwojXi1vGoLrMsD4gPOsg-Eu38dIztBxRHl4LkO5wuLZcytj6HULlZsQYh9v76IZjNDtOeih_Q-qHQaaMY23mGwWtq5kF4UnHRRe1VZXaBFnJuPMuYRj-WeKrav/s400/henri4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'd chosen the duck egg on toast with Somerset truffle and boy, was it good. The egg was besides, rather than on, toast, and it was surrounded with shaved truffle and wonderous truffle goo. Not so much a up front whack on the taste buds but more a shimmer round the palate then insinuating itself into the memory and inducing a desire for more. Heavenly. Contender for best plate of food I've had this year. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinHT_p-T26nW4aS05tyavrjIX-JrppsQDX_DjGCr4OKXkG20GJR1aMIDFmnZkaw_1uu4APq_cTRTKEbyFL_7snJeEs67wtulgQBb7nR-v3zqJQ9I6hqY8q1Nkr9H6bSFGodStcKr6RUwhA/s1600/henri5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinHT_p-T26nW4aS05tyavrjIX-JrppsQDX_DjGCr4OKXkG20GJR1aMIDFmnZkaw_1uu4APq_cTRTKEbyFL_7snJeEs67wtulgQBb7nR-v3zqJQ9I6hqY8q1Nkr9H6bSFGodStcKr6RUwhA/s400/henri5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Henri's main was saltmarsh lamb, herb consomme and pomme purees. I think we'd both expected this to turn up as lamb carved off the bone - but no, it was a lamb turret, crowned with herbal crust. Henri loved it - meltingly tender meat perfectly complemented by the crusty top and herb consomme. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ORYN1viOJY1nZB4eUYD3i9tuRp9TDWE8fSIFuX9pi9dJh7VWVR-X6oNEsF66Mnqv6TzYHM1uBsYsDmfI3tqqAFfJs2MFw2iYz3kndunboD7uGLPns645Fh1U2-P2_lG2-80_W1Y7EhZm/s1600/henri+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ORYN1viOJY1nZB4eUYD3i9tuRp9TDWE8fSIFuX9pi9dJh7VWVR-X6oNEsF66Mnqv6TzYHM1uBsYsDmfI3tqqAFfJs2MFw2iYz3kndunboD7uGLPns645Fh1U2-P2_lG2-80_W1Y7EhZm/s400/henri+006.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Meanwhile, I was tucking into Cornish mackeral, cured cucumber and pickled onions. Someone spent a very long time pin-boning the fish which was cooked with a fine crisp skin and worked beautifully with the cucumber. The acidity of the onions worked well but I did miss a fruity punch to finish off the dish. But a lovely plate of food. With the main plates whipped away, we were offered a tiny jar of a most luscious lemon possett. We wolfed this down so quickly that there was no time to take a photo.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiabzD_tiGuCAEcBQv7aGMVtngMjbZ7MbZ8IZz0eR_nQSHonaJ8YC9oJtsmABuv49sFfzcsvRvdOPto_T9_HCE3crPh9ezJKFW9Xh7q4TCwop3eb9Qo541iX9XF3ykFb3bum7EsMK84F4ic/s1600/henri8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiabzD_tiGuCAEcBQv7aGMVtngMjbZ7MbZ8IZz0eR_nQSHonaJ8YC9oJtsmABuv49sFfzcsvRvdOPto_T9_HCE3crPh9ezJKFW9Xh7q4TCwop3eb9Qo541iX9XF3ykFb3bum7EsMK84F4ic/s400/henri8.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For pud, we both went with the dark chocolate and raspberry mousse - a wonderful concoction with shiny raspberry lightness over sugared berries and a dense and serious chocolate base. We were given big spoons but unanimously demanded smaller ones so that we could make the sensation last. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgttzPv_s_gZQ_mvD8cxL5n7rlWCa1kzBVL_a1_j7T1QVpQPgV8jUHYpSlemC4tnPYHOYvVJdioyvBf_cdnAb8Z52su4E8qT7_yyvihquSLaPq2cNK_av3ZI8VKIrxNSXLBqGg_SbaJxj6o/s1600/henri9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgttzPv_s_gZQ_mvD8cxL5n7rlWCa1kzBVL_a1_j7T1QVpQPgV8jUHYpSlemC4tnPYHOYvVJdioyvBf_cdnAb8Z52su4E8qT7_yyvihquSLaPq2cNK_av3ZI8VKIrxNSXLBqGg_SbaJxj6o/s400/henri9.jpg" width="366" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Reeling with the pleasure of it, we were left giggling when we were presented with plate of two jars - baby madeleines warm from the oven and egg white-lightened cream. Ohmygod. Delicious and almost too much for two full tums. Almost - we did our best to demolish this last delight. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I love this place. The food was gorgeous, the service was superb, and I think it's the first time ever that the bill has arrived <em>exactly </em>when you want it. It's the kind of place that you rave about in the office the next day - which I did. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Thank you Henri for a marvellous lunch, and to Launceston Place for living up to all expectations. </div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-62962487775177639592010-09-14T21:22:00.000+01:002010-09-14T21:22:55.488+01:00Crab two ways and an allotment harvest<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAX0MG-x2xXpzLk-fEYf6BRyL1-RYzrsxlcqS18wge-04ikIzIpmjGTqXMTaHBfHIn-3RR3gMsmU69bTX2sinIWGk2o5SK23fL0X1atob4iS8oO9ayd1eeOA2ZLit7EuulH1jQHLaAt7H6/s1600/crab1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAX0MG-x2xXpzLk-fEYf6BRyL1-RYzrsxlcqS18wge-04ikIzIpmjGTqXMTaHBfHIn-3RR3gMsmU69bTX2sinIWGk2o5SK23fL0X1atob4iS8oO9ayd1eeOA2ZLit7EuulH1jQHLaAt7H6/s400/crab1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Last week I was so taken with Jason Atherton's <em>Maze Cookbook</em> that I bought it, having glimpsed a couple of fantastic crab recipes. As I have the lovely @titianred staying (which involves much boozy putting the world to rights and listening to Leonard Cohen), I had the perfect opportunity to put crab to pan. The first recipe was for crab chowder, involving the underrated brown crab meat. The lovely guys at <a href="http://www.seafoodandeatit.co.uk/">Seafood and Eat it</a> sell the most wonderful crabmeat and once again provided the protein.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfQz19YOMKGUD9gDXr4YJgNY91SWN0S4gFNLaO_gcjb0L6wiUzhBqk4tz1SLcrZm1im0vXYVHgR5m7Sz1A0RLVgrcGs96OC91jSd-nRMlBu7S6nJWndMeG1WRIVl8QYx9C5E9fdxtBMljJ/s1600/crab2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="316" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfQz19YOMKGUD9gDXr4YJgNY91SWN0S4gFNLaO_gcjb0L6wiUzhBqk4tz1SLcrZm1im0vXYVHgR5m7Sz1A0RLVgrcGs96OC91jSd-nRMlBu7S6nJWndMeG1WRIVl8QYx9C5E9fdxtBMljJ/s400/crab2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">First there's a serious stock to put together: leek, shallot, carrot and garlic are sweated in rapeseed oil (Jason specifies onion and olive oil but hey, I go with what I have). Then when the veg are wilted and golden, it's in with the spice mixture - star anice, lemongrass, parsley and basil stalks, coriander seed and peppercorns.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsRqA0jb7_L3LBq7HJ_wzW6E9UE9GYLiLIkF8s9DMPKEhGK8D3bP20GIP-2Lapt4bbjaoDigkbkmnEbo1mQCWq-RES-_o8Bx9hyphenhyphenwQqceAFk6f3let1ihIpjQOycQ9ORRQn7wUS5gh1EqnM/s1600/crab3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="287" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsRqA0jb7_L3LBq7HJ_wzW6E9UE9GYLiLIkF8s9DMPKEhGK8D3bP20GIP-2Lapt4bbjaoDigkbkmnEbo1mQCWq-RES-_o8Bx9hyphenhyphenwQqceAFk6f3let1ihIpjQOycQ9ORRQn7wUS5gh1EqnM/s400/crab3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And I popped in a couple of sprigs of Thai basil from the garden.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiaSn2Kn17nFNC3Wx4lBENJ-3Ho7Yki7w1exB0vTDF_0J9AU7cmHmqgtj057dnsBiy-6fUPH6ggx9U_1hHPTbn1jJdP9pD140pXOBnKAbrWalx0QBvrX1-VhaSeqWh0-tvgTdom8L8xCBa/s1600/crab4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiaSn2Kn17nFNC3Wx4lBENJ-3Ho7Yki7w1exB0vTDF_0J9AU7cmHmqgtj057dnsBiy-6fUPH6ggx9U_1hHPTbn1jJdP9pD140pXOBnKAbrWalx0QBvrX1-VhaSeqWh0-tvgTdom8L8xCBa/s400/crab4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then I added a good squirt of tomato puree and a glass of white wine. The scent was beginning to get really very good. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLzri6nL3EZUw0iK2DuKsym1QsgKSfxxDwiBizG6YdJ_QF3KdgTK3rxu4_jnmALjZiI6KsBAe226Lg5mMV8FUsn1BcET2pq4BoDluOWWXby65xx9k3J2EE7BLelH42bclkj4nSaElGQ6Oi/s1600/crab5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="321" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLzri6nL3EZUw0iK2DuKsym1QsgKSfxxDwiBizG6YdJ_QF3KdgTK3rxu4_jnmALjZiI6KsBAe226Lg5mMV8FUsn1BcET2pq4BoDluOWWXby65xx9k3J2EE7BLelH42bclkj4nSaElGQ6Oi/s400/crab5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Next in is a good jug of homemade chicken stock and the mixture bubbles gently for 20 minutes. Strain the stock through a seive, pressing the veggies and spices down to extract all the flavour and then the soup goes back on the heat for the addition of the brown crab meat and double cream, and a final adjustment of salt.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYfJ4543E3m25vOH1D8CMHkTYlWAEJ7lp9KQrz8KLQSwIgdUCXuuG1MWTFgClzk5ZOfvrex49M2gnUhW4T00NXRfXtBFHpUIDZOX7PT9Rsj9QXsjoGXE_raMyg5jj1AV9CNi9YC_UnuyKY/s1600/crab6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="337" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYfJ4543E3m25vOH1D8CMHkTYlWAEJ7lp9KQrz8KLQSwIgdUCXuuG1MWTFgClzk5ZOfvrex49M2gnUhW4T00NXRfXtBFHpUIDZOX7PT9Rsj9QXsjoGXE_raMyg5jj1AV9CNi9YC_UnuyKY/s400/crab6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Oh boy. This is an amazingly good recipe. I added a spoonful of white crab meat at the bottom of the bowl before laddeling in the soup. Crab heaven and a noble end for a fine crustacean. We slurped it down.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIqBvV3swLOiJY1I1EUuNBYrwoRrKMq69ipCmqGNC0j4efnBeEZCdfUqsmMAT88lNr6bKLxJfMy6HfpLiNnLMvFKt4vSooRBw21LqUonu8h-ZO45T-q38wXTrlx1PFdKUy5CJqOgZfjIBD/s1600/crab7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="323" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIqBvV3swLOiJY1I1EUuNBYrwoRrKMq69ipCmqGNC0j4efnBeEZCdfUqsmMAT88lNr6bKLxJfMy6HfpLiNnLMvFKt4vSooRBw21LqUonu8h-ZO45T-q38wXTrlx1PFdKUy5CJqOgZfjIBD/s400/crab7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The second crab dish was a crab toastie - good, but not quite reaching the heights of the chowder. Mix white crab meat with mayo, cream cheese, a dash of soy sauce and a sprinkle of cayenne. Jason's recipe tells you to bake in an oven at gas mark 3 for 10 minutes, but I wasn't quite convinced, so I toasted the bread on one side then pile the crab mixture on the white side and grilled it till bubbling. A good dish but not as good as the soup. But a pretty good supper.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxofu1xz85JlLFnTV7K-6gcXolixZQyBzM3Ey_OEVN0VBX2Q0tTTQQ6Q5z9GoVVW54feS5quyeyBV88hQm7VGSIIP4yfJNZ_dMmslmuLkx32Eq1FBCvim5FqteLeeK81-n7RfT0EBh6sjW/s1600/crab8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxofu1xz85JlLFnTV7K-6gcXolixZQyBzM3Ey_OEVN0VBX2Q0tTTQQ6Q5z9GoVVW54feS5quyeyBV88hQm7VGSIIP4yfJNZ_dMmslmuLkx32Eq1FBCvim5FqteLeeK81-n7RfT0EBh6sjW/s400/crab8.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Meanwhile, down on the allotment, life has sprung back into the veg now that we've had some rain. The runner beans - Painted Lady - are going great guns. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJiBvllu-7OoLoUXM8vw9h9a4OIQwiUQOP6EiCIatNHDgfIlLwnbgW7WEZ0TWbU_aAF36_mhv0n6ZlEROGthM4f3hrK9g6CvTEL6kG-aGGgJCCWJ9LXVo_BklALS2_F6dAVjeg7dkUlwU/s1600/crab9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJiBvllu-7OoLoUXM8vw9h9a4OIQwiUQOP6EiCIatNHDgfIlLwnbgW7WEZ0TWbU_aAF36_mhv0n6ZlEROGthM4f3hrK9g6CvTEL6kG-aGGgJCCWJ9LXVo_BklALS2_F6dAVjeg7dkUlwU/s400/crab9.jpg" width="362" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm so proud of my squash - they're ripening nicely in shades of orange and yellow and green. And we even have a volunteer squash that's sprouted out of the second compost bay.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOm1WXuuDvtIBnGsNlcJO_7uzLts4qcBWNRR0sXISaoQZDP3tbcIcrI-uVczfGHVsOmahu3SfEXFtr30zt6YPLUGcjT_BFSM7e8B3s9YBRTqBv6s3iFxp0OqS2fa7k9iS0YQ2XCgIxXoeF/s1600/crab10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOm1WXuuDvtIBnGsNlcJO_7uzLts4qcBWNRR0sXISaoQZDP3tbcIcrI-uVczfGHVsOmahu3SfEXFtr30zt6YPLUGcjT_BFSM7e8B3s9YBRTqBv6s3iFxp0OqS2fa7k9iS0YQ2XCgIxXoeF/s400/crab10.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And after a couple of months of sulking in the heat, the courgette plants have sprung into action, providing the most delicious fruit. I've never loved courgettes until this year. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOlYgTh_Ji22IBuBVT9kTQ2s8Lui0cxKYwATChkZPWBCeP5abyvZseo1ScgWyPOT-mVMwPKd_-I2r9OFi7PWLqXN7LsybFfxkK-CMvSDatsl9YhyphenhyphenruBWabsbHc7Wx-RTeu8ESmFyD8H0_5/s1600/crab11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOlYgTh_Ji22IBuBVT9kTQ2s8Lui0cxKYwATChkZPWBCeP5abyvZseo1ScgWyPOT-mVMwPKd_-I2r9OFi7PWLqXN7LsybFfxkK-CMvSDatsl9YhyphenhyphenruBWabsbHc7Wx-RTeu8ESmFyD8H0_5/s400/crab11.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There are toms and garlic - and a couple of ears of corn from my lovely lottie neighbour Mark. An autumn of mellow fruitfulness.</div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-89005102545920954942010-08-16T20:03:00.001+01:002010-08-16T20:04:55.950+01:00Mexican porky goodness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg2lXn9qtR3MPZ7Z6M7x1-9qPRj8R-mxRr6iMxJ-ooYHz_E333fhG_L4mGQWZpxa4akpe3LocJnTcLr4A_vhVUsG6kj7ylLc7Gy-j2c20477wOVRMK5_Ddg2s-MXSU8hvOiUxNyh73gPzY/s1600/pib1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="322" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg2lXn9qtR3MPZ7Z6M7x1-9qPRj8R-mxRr6iMxJ-ooYHz_E333fhG_L4mGQWZpxa4akpe3LocJnTcLr4A_vhVUsG6kj7ylLc7Gy-j2c20477wOVRMK5_Ddg2s-MXSU8hvOiUxNyh73gPzY/s400/pib1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Mexican theme continues...Neil and I have begun a quest to lunch at every Mexican place within striking distance. A couple of weeks ago we ate at <a href="http://www.taqueria.co.uk/">Taqueria</a> - and a fabulous lunch it was. Annoyingly, they wouldn't let me take photos. I was mildly cross at the start of the meal and even crosser by the end, because the food was so good. I kicked off with Callos al mojo de ajo - garlicky scallops with chipotle and avacado mash - which was seriously good. But Neil had hit the jackpot with his choice of Cochinita pibil - slow-cooked pork with achiote and citrus juice and pickled pink onions. One bite and I was having one of those 'ohmygodwhatisTHAT??' moments when your palate lands on something new and heavenly and tantalising. After scanning the menu again, I guessed it was the achiote seeds that were the key ingrediant. Luckily the people who run Taqueria also run the Cool Chile Company, and the restuarant sells ingrediants. So I headed back to work with a tin of the special seeds. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhINDCdI_vT2jUDeHfcUvKU9Y0PlZf1LhKLgwxbppI-Pw2vFMKgt5WklGoQ_KVgJ6iPu2aBP6Om5LghBDxPqNulP84f1gbjGNC2JE7WFfNdrp1W0yA2LRSzsccjQi28lD0p8iJ9qqjyUSsR/s1600/pib2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="306" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhINDCdI_vT2jUDeHfcUvKU9Y0PlZf1LhKLgwxbppI-Pw2vFMKgt5WklGoQ_KVgJ6iPu2aBP6Om5LghBDxPqNulP84f1gbjGNC2JE7WFfNdrp1W0yA2LRSzsccjQi28lD0p8iJ9qqjyUSsR/s400/pib2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Rick Bayless has become my authority on serious Mexican nosh, and he didn't let me down with a recipe for pibil that called for quite a lot of work for a fine reward. There's one version of his recipe <a href="http://www.rickbayless.com/recipe/view?recipeID=169">here</a>, although it's a bit different from the one I used from his book <em>Mexican Kitchen</em>. First, take your spices. That's the achiote seeds, brick red and just as hard, black pepper, allspice and oregano, and whizz them to a powder. Smash some garlic with salt and add...then add some cider vinegar to create a paste. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Gl6e5zxuPhaMEKFOhdb31qDwXEWRBDc2F26rcMB9QjO-XrHInIijnKHUE94AfAgOpUsdaWUOqeY_BGqxw4Vr8DcwzPaSZQChYdIqB05R1TRoE9R6O7MW9iIE1QxOqMT8iffDG8ccafmW/s1600/pib3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Gl6e5zxuPhaMEKFOhdb31qDwXEWRBDc2F26rcMB9QjO-XrHInIijnKHUE94AfAgOpUsdaWUOqeY_BGqxw4Vr8DcwzPaSZQChYdIqB05R1TRoE9R6O7MW9iIE1QxOqMT8iffDG8ccafmW/s320/pib3.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then add orange and lime juice to the paste, and insert your pork shoulder joint to marinate for at least four hours. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvBoaNRjUbUZKJWv0Rj7gkUYfKMM3V4yKO0HsQqamwRfL0nVdElKn20kB6BvxDHX0qZ27-1pPApCBJdLZw7veVO6pwvLY85sTx_Wc7pLzz_l44UJdZxw00alG_T_nJk0aIZ2XtgBMZ6n89/s1600/pib4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvBoaNRjUbUZKJWv0Rj7gkUYfKMM3V4yKO0HsQqamwRfL0nVdElKn20kB6BvxDHX0qZ27-1pPApCBJdLZw7veVO6pwvLY85sTx_Wc7pLzz_l44UJdZxw00alG_T_nJk0aIZ2XtgBMZ6n89/s400/pib4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then it's into the oven at around gas mark 3 for several hours - it's the tenderness that's part of the dish. Then you can get on with the pink pickled onions.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4a9q0lzWqhb7-3_YuAGe_Z-gw263FmCONrf6yuHmquUTxDR0LcV5-3gt1r6QbMkwdwLOZBtj9WLEVKEzoPM_IAiQnhg3kFq-yp2UHYML5a-XHD4X47Rqr8Ck87JitWcWnsHuCBtq7_31_/s1600/pib5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4a9q0lzWqhb7-3_YuAGe_Z-gw263FmCONrf6yuHmquUTxDR0LcV5-3gt1r6QbMkwdwLOZBtj9WLEVKEzoPM_IAiQnhg3kFq-yp2UHYML5a-XHD4X47Rqr8Ck87JitWcWnsHuCBtq7_31_/s400/pib5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Simply steep sliced red onion in boiling water for a minute, then add a spice mix of black pepper, cumin and oregano to the drained onions and add garlic and cider vinegar. Stow in the fridge while the scent of achiote fills the house. Three hours later and the pork is ready.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoJd_rLI73PwQd0cZ7gG57bPDiZn7mJXmn_9Cjjsi2VyppmOVyo7FL-78vBQZV9WFIQ5onrJb2-CG2t0sb4SyA8AYtZlW1fCk_jInGH4wjMxJHlWqfpu5DFp19TYfuvJ1OAtBWfh135l8n/s1600/pib6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoJd_rLI73PwQd0cZ7gG57bPDiZn7mJXmn_9Cjjsi2VyppmOVyo7FL-78vBQZV9WFIQ5onrJb2-CG2t0sb4SyA8AYtZlW1fCk_jInGH4wjMxJHlWqfpu5DFp19TYfuvJ1OAtBWfh135l8n/s400/pib6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The joint will now be falling apart, which is fine, because you're after that north American pulled meat thing. Gently shred the pork and reserve the achiote liquid from the bottom of the pan. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY5aHfM_-2S2lPs8mnM0mkGwAt7UAVGJ0m4RSCut8BoxzMVEYntsSjyl78Zf6Dy1ZKHhuKkWAl1NBfaYWtA5MxuL-70hUU7YG0np0HrqUHLF48FBWjUYID-gKpwriINm9s0Qe-K9p9wL_2/s1600/pib8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY5aHfM_-2S2lPs8mnM0mkGwAt7UAVGJ0m4RSCut8BoxzMVEYntsSjyl78Zf6Dy1ZKHhuKkWAl1NBfaYWtA5MxuL-70hUU7YG0np0HrqUHLF48FBWjUYID-gKpwriINm9s0Qe-K9p9wL_2/s400/pib8.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then you can compose your meal. I put some of the pork into a warmed tortilla, poured over some of the basting juice and topped with the day-glo onion. Sides were refried beans with sour cream, grated Manchego and tomatilla salso, together with some un-Mexican but delicious runner beans from my allotment. A feast! This pork is so good. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyyozYFzAhqQOx6SnxmjCBlTXGKCIoBDzPrGZvMYBwvHgVLB2ifYekyRKpWwxMfJnnL-OlPQY5LJUMJJWfHpT9TFsm4_OpUHHzTTaNJ9Cli1-FJ9blP0NcN2z_RIP_ODNS1N6L94NfBsyI/s1600/pib9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyyozYFzAhqQOx6SnxmjCBlTXGKCIoBDzPrGZvMYBwvHgVLB2ifYekyRKpWwxMfJnnL-OlPQY5LJUMJJWfHpT9TFsm4_OpUHHzTTaNJ9Cli1-FJ9blP0NcN2z_RIP_ODNS1N6L94NfBsyI/s320/pib9.jpg" /></a></div>So thank you Rick and thank you Tanqueria - and I hope you'll let me take photos next time.franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-21277354993305597222010-07-02T19:14:00.000+01:002010-07-02T19:14:04.561+01:00Viva Mexico<div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifG_E3jhEpMsM39Qe_-XgPECJYUjJu-7S7Zo3l3ADqZPhRCSCGcCVsgqdss3zzaXLgl7FXqig9mctH6okuxaibsDDAng6KteinLFDXXLGcPYnRvh_yR6N3lCUxe3a6D6tjDJvvUzHQY8SW/s1600/mex3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifG_E3jhEpMsM39Qe_-XgPECJYUjJu-7S7Zo3l3ADqZPhRCSCGcCVsgqdss3zzaXLgl7FXqig9mctH6okuxaibsDDAng6KteinLFDXXLGcPYnRvh_yR6N3lCUxe3a6D6tjDJvvUzHQY8SW/s320/mex3.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now that I'm working over in west London, one of my favourite lunch haunts is <a href="http://www.wahaca.co.uk/html/1_restaurant2.html">Wahaca</a>, the Mexican canteena founded by the lovely <a href="http://www.thomasinamiers.com/">Tommi Miers</a>, winner of Masterchef a couple of years back. I knew nothing about real Mexican food (except that I love what Wahaca serve up), so I snapped up Tommi's book when it came out, and I'm now suffering from a severe refried beans addiction. Can't stop making them, can't stop eating them.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1XwtCEh4s0D5HYFMRq7qLf49_oLzWNm0Q3NlNWldyy3-M4XU286EuhVOpuyhMCYELXOeTUiRDR1m8oXy1rXE3o8LOiqzstsKcLbVUlDDLuFlVvz_ol8vU0C974aR_VXxmozMThB7B1IWl/s1600/mex1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1XwtCEh4s0D5HYFMRq7qLf49_oLzWNm0Q3NlNWldyy3-M4XU286EuhVOpuyhMCYELXOeTUiRDR1m8oXy1rXE3o8LOiqzstsKcLbVUlDDLuFlVvz_ol8vU0C974aR_VXxmozMThB7B1IWl/s400/mex1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Refried beans are actually well cooked beans. Speckled pinto beans are an option, but I adore black turtle beans. I tip the dried beans into a big bowl and cover them with just-boiled water for a couple of hours. Then they go into a saucepan with a halved onion, a couple of bay leaves, four cloves of garlic, a handful of thyme and, if you can get it, some epazote, a Mexican herb that loves beans. After a couple of hours, the beans are soft and starting to shed their skins. At this point, I turn off the heat and add a tablespoonful of salt. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNLfWVSgrq6hpRiqvQ-doTTeM2aA6-TUH6mGSBj2EgSuNIHZFY5-NQodM12DUk8Stw1mcIQfHq2VagQWZ92kVnX348ltqj5jF9Vz-pTeJTExkuoVpgOpvN2Qu1RTsew-XalQtnYWfm0MuS/s1600/mex2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNLfWVSgrq6hpRiqvQ-doTTeM2aA6-TUH6mGSBj2EgSuNIHZFY5-NQodM12DUk8Stw1mcIQfHq2VagQWZ92kVnX348ltqj5jF9Vz-pTeJTExkuoVpgOpvN2Qu1RTsew-XalQtnYWfm0MuS/s400/mex2.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Another way to go is to buy the excellent <a href="http://www.coolchile.co.uk/Merchant2/merchant.mvc?Screen=CTGY&Store_Code=1&Category_Code=D5">Cool Chile Company's Black Bean kit</a>, which I tracked down at their Borough market stall, or you can order it online. Cool Chile have epazote and chile de arbol in their kit, and also include the brick-coloured smoked paprika, which has become an essential ingrediant for my refrieds.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Once your beans are soft, it's time to fry some chopped onion and garlic in lard (yes, lard - first time I've bought it in ages), then add the beans and the paprika. Tommi recommends using a stick blender but I go with the more primative potato masher to get the beans into a delicious mashed mush. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcq85OERO2pwijqCJfF1zPWVRbBTvhhlCrUuDwS4LV1krRMoUhZIdntuoHcHaI3y_wljtYnvEGLQJYW2jJ0TeVw4K2rBR0OiNDGcMkY4HnrYzczoet_waagtybKaiUgo6VY97Yz3BIiaQa/s1600/mex4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="307" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcq85OERO2pwijqCJfF1zPWVRbBTvhhlCrUuDwS4LV1krRMoUhZIdntuoHcHaI3y_wljtYnvEGLQJYW2jJ0TeVw4K2rBR0OiNDGcMkY4HnrYzczoet_waagtybKaiUgo6VY97Yz3BIiaQa/s400/mex4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now you're ready to assemble the beans for eating - often in warmed corn tortillas but in this dressed-down version, with crumbled Lancashire cheese, chipoltle salsa, chopped coriander and sour cream.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguuM0sV9xN7cRxoHVW6FYFLbBTuZfXRQvMSseLyCExoaf1K29J4BvpIFph3n9YRWuYJwBbvHekWG3-XVoYvu10jD8X364rQtMX_hxFu-ou9TBfTP63tkZ6_p7ZT1XTIbaZDRP7fnpqy0h4/s1600/mex5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguuM0sV9xN7cRxoHVW6FYFLbBTuZfXRQvMSseLyCExoaf1K29J4BvpIFph3n9YRWuYJwBbvHekWG3-XVoYvu10jD8X364rQtMX_hxFu-ou9TBfTP63tkZ6_p7ZT1XTIbaZDRP7fnpqy0h4/s400/mex5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It looks murky. It tastes delicious. Your refried beans will last for five days in the fridge - perfect for a working week of quick and tasty suppers. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh84HwIVgkOOHce7qZ6eAinQvkphodrWJrySUBYxMw3zXuCM0vqtqKYUyfT2FFqsw2IATiSKGrfabao0wJGbGscV3xW37gYem_n1q1DjqLbKzmAaX9m8ZK_G3oyp_gMDHXk7PackmXunKTF/s1600/mex7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh84HwIVgkOOHce7qZ6eAinQvkphodrWJrySUBYxMw3zXuCM0vqtqKYUyfT2FFqsw2IATiSKGrfabao0wJGbGscV3xW37gYem_n1q1DjqLbKzmAaX9m8ZK_G3oyp_gMDHXk7PackmXunKTF/s400/mex7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">At the front of June, when it was cold and utterly unsummery, I cooked up Tommi's unMexican but delicious chile with meat. Except I used stewing steak from Muck and Magic rather than the larger cut that Tommi recommends. The spice and herb mix is the key here: cumin, allspice, cinnamon, bay and oregano combine with my idiosyncratic addition of a deseeded ancho chile, together with cider vinegar, ketchup and brown sugar to make a stunning sauce for the meat. It went into the oven for a long, slow cook, then I left it for overnight so that the meat was incredibly tender. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiW7iV5qgv4vO1IvBaOC4JZicdL_9j8nXqTnURhF6CkkQddadgRLJg3fNaFVCVYI-kjnPSrSCzUA5c1ZlPfKSRfeeTrURMVx9u9VNhNa1Oi3Ou3FYauEPdG9SSUCyh9IlHnLOIWz5oeHy1/s1600/mex8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiW7iV5qgv4vO1IvBaOC4JZicdL_9j8nXqTnURhF6CkkQddadgRLJg3fNaFVCVYI-kjnPSrSCzUA5c1ZlPfKSRfeeTrURMVx9u9VNhNa1Oi3Ou3FYauEPdG9SSUCyh9IlHnLOIWz5oeHy1/s400/mex8.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Wonderful. Now, where are tonight's refried beans?franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-25769494003519361292010-05-25T12:42:00.001+01:002010-05-25T12:45:29.433+01:00Summer lunch at the Sportsman<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzSeqMBvFHAcXHmwjlMkbjHZeOT9VfyJrjX-n8zFaMwiRJ1yrx5py_axEokbu9bsuOFfLjctU_TiuN7_bLp1vKTVdc1EHjPj2u2kv8oIrwlygmTCdGtpnsAUUtvmD4NnE1bXBOgJYlkfNw/s1600/ss1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzSeqMBvFHAcXHmwjlMkbjHZeOT9VfyJrjX-n8zFaMwiRJ1yrx5py_axEokbu9bsuOFfLjctU_TiuN7_bLp1vKTVdc1EHjPj2u2kv8oIrwlygmTCdGtpnsAUUtvmD4NnE1bXBOgJYlkfNw/s400/ss1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sometimes familiarity breeds content: a late spring lunch at the Sportsman at Seasalter with Sarah and Ian on a hot windless day was pure pleasure. Thanks to the new high-speed train, we'd arrived early, so we got a drink and sauntered out into the garden to soak up the sun and exchange news. The lovely waiting staff showed us where our table was, but asked if we'd like to relocate to the conservatory? Yes please. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJGo6xTYQ9clATpCFj_Vk_Jzm5kfEHq-XhXPGOEewu21fRssutWrucx67cAa41Ke4ibvO449_wy6iASuTs-puvK_L0SwDYEZ_lmrGioQr4__H7Gct0RDjbcJJjxV5a_zmvLxsgj2K_ZjXN/s1600/ss3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJGo6xTYQ9clATpCFj_Vk_Jzm5kfEHq-XhXPGOEewu21fRssutWrucx67cAa41Ke4ibvO449_wy6iASuTs-puvK_L0SwDYEZ_lmrGioQr4__H7Gct0RDjbcJJjxV5a_zmvLxsgj2K_ZjXN/s400/ss3.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">The flowers on the table sum up one of the many things I love about the Sportman - these aren't hot house specimens, they're wild and local and look beautiful: celandine, yarrow, grasses and one of the many umbelifera whose name I don't know. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw1bK1KxjI1kY8pMr5cAX9pbsEfo9e0i6Qj3A8iPzX-HINgbDAexo52QsrAJkZH4KNAFWgR25LqySGxlzEWfqN7XwFGNodEbx3gVIxeJMRwuWT0SeRuYQiD1wmMktOlyC6MMaeTXwWl65i/s1600/ss4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw1bK1KxjI1kY8pMr5cAX9pbsEfo9e0i6Qj3A8iPzX-HINgbDAexo52QsrAJkZH4KNAFWgR25LqySGxlzEWfqN7XwFGNodEbx3gVIxeJMRwuWT0SeRuYQiD1wmMktOlyC6MMaeTXwWl65i/s400/ss4.jpg" width="337" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">The Sportsman's bread and butter (both made on the premisis, along with the salt) is a vital start to any meal. This time we got the usual fantastic foccacia and a moreish soda bread. Ian kicked off with the pickled herring and cabbage salad, chosen because it reminded him of childhood days in Denmark. This revelation led to the inevitable Swedish chef impersonations.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIHlsCZMuzfJy4Mq2iG9ZME8ZVH4fkli5rhqFbCtPMZVk4EnuriklA3l0QAYWRDOnrGTyL-1PWPLrN7TCcVr4xXIj9pLF2k27kE2EjZnI8VsGBHmWXe3hZYvcE7dcYVpomsigoyeq_36qA/s1600/ss5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIHlsCZMuzfJy4Mq2iG9ZME8ZVH4fkli5rhqFbCtPMZVk4EnuriklA3l0QAYWRDOnrGTyL-1PWPLrN7TCcVr4xXIj9pLF2k27kE2EjZnI8VsGBHmWXe3hZYvcE7dcYVpomsigoyeq_36qA/s400/ss5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Ian loved it, and he kindly gave me a forkful: I thought it was marvellous. The fish was sweetly cured, accompanied by a very finely shredded cabbage, again lightly cured. I'm having this next time.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipaRAHestCRsRFg1vyVuQszNJQuAkd2Eh_LwlRn8xFRaTQEO3DYbt_lRykGmwUcGiLntrm4eBt1_Z3vF6guUpjigv5KX2jJQYdJ9BytJXuyE9iqf3c3VtQD-uNRrcGVy341KVobkMxswX1/s1600/ss7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipaRAHestCRsRFg1vyVuQszNJQuAkd2Eh_LwlRn8xFRaTQEO3DYbt_lRykGmwUcGiLntrm4eBt1_Z3vF6guUpjigv5KX2jJQYdJ9BytJXuyE9iqf3c3VtQD-uNRrcGVy341KVobkMxswX1/s400/ss7.jpg" width="316" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Sarah was getting started on her slip sole with smoked salt: a divine little fish, she said. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkUpqLRoKR-cV7IDn6aUsNYwUdjgsIoX5puFzyR2R5UmlWiapoMiNRZ4589L2fawINqgREDZVG9GkB3PscrVJX35CIboz-ue5rge7XOijS7cZIU0rHz_n_QIknRd9ga6IhDUsaYMQSg0P/s1600/ss6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkUpqLRoKR-cV7IDn6aUsNYwUdjgsIoX5puFzyR2R5UmlWiapoMiNRZ4589L2fawINqgREDZVG9GkB3PscrVJX35CIboz-ue5rge7XOijS7cZIU0rHz_n_QIknRd9ga6IhDUsaYMQSg0P/s400/ss6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">I couldn't resist the chilled asparagas soup. It came with a tiny little tart filled with cream cheese and shredded sorrel. The flavour of the soup was sooo asparagasy - pure green heaven. Word cam from the kitchen that it wasn't a veggie stock, but the liquid base was milk. Hmmm - one to try and recreate at home.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWCTBj1LiiQo4IrDexwIDt_k4T7M0eAW3UFakaOsMNrsREZ1-s7kuYiVf2oItlIXptA4PEd0mBg3UbVear4WNAVv5CBz6mP1aPc5XQO5Mm6Jo5Ndcm90oL4Dt0f1zlqT8_mM-ZVfththWo/s1600/ss8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWCTBj1LiiQo4IrDexwIDt_k4T7M0eAW3UFakaOsMNrsREZ1-s7kuYiVf2oItlIXptA4PEd0mBg3UbVear4WNAVv5CBz6mP1aPc5XQO5Mm6Jo5Ndcm90oL4Dt0f1zlqT8_mM-ZVfththWo/s400/ss8.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Sarah had gone her usual route of two starters rather than starter then main. She said her mushroom tart was the most unusual she'd ever had. The mushroom base was toped with a cheesey custard, with swoosh of spinach puree at the side. She loved it and said the pastry was to die for - buttery and melt in the mouth.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP7S-eRkpaCR9LpJYRlGa8ZY8fk6cRevsEQcZ9ZfzDsAcw7GWy83J9Jw0DnEbyly24azESiAcwV3k1K5duxecjYfueS3KQ4477G7TezGiT9wQZ3niK6Wk7WYOKkAE34X4wJfoB1Kx6AoiX/s1600/ss9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP7S-eRkpaCR9LpJYRlGa8ZY8fk6cRevsEQcZ9ZfzDsAcw7GWy83J9Jw0DnEbyly24azESiAcwV3k1K5duxecjYfueS3KQ4477G7TezGiT9wQZ3niK6Wk7WYOKkAE34X4wJfoB1Kx6AoiX/s400/ss9.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Ian and I had both chosen the roast chicken with truffle cream sauce. It came with a further helping of asparagas and a roastie. This was as good as I remembered - moist tender chicken topped with crisp skin. Ian called it a 'juicy happy chicken'. For a moment we lapsed into the silence that good food gives. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCe6gOhQyohWdo4N8KAsaW0eMybLD1LzHg3pV8InkTxqh0iDibTdOynLJLNeHCnoaAKrITi8Bm3zIw9A_L90qA_wsrVHrGyVUFlb3La7qrAU7Xc63vi2u0uhlPt1gzwY6aOUyN5wO27yXP/s1600/ss10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCe6gOhQyohWdo4N8KAsaW0eMybLD1LzHg3pV8InkTxqh0iDibTdOynLJLNeHCnoaAKrITi8Bm3zIw9A_L90qA_wsrVHrGyVUFlb3La7qrAU7Xc63vi2u0uhlPt1gzwY6aOUyN5wO27yXP/s400/ss10.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Ian and I plumped for the same dessert: warm chocolate mousse with salted caramel and milk sorbet. The sorbet sank gently through the silky soft mousse, and a diving motion with the spoon reunited the two elements. I think this is the best pud I've had at the Sportsman - or at least up there with the creme brulee. Sarah, meanwhile, was polishing off her cheese cream ice cream, strawberry puree, meringue and shortbread crumbs with squeaks of delight.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFh2s2BOCHSQv9_vcGfWbLHvF91r_K6A_wXmzgT5JaitMt5tQ-f7AoVDRiDLS5AesNiV6zY1cEf30VhktKw9qsoVddgUNFi3oOXySnnLPgGxkH0SKWB3i8woeHGKLT9l7rBy_bRO4S_lEu/s1600/ss12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFh2s2BOCHSQv9_vcGfWbLHvF91r_K6A_wXmzgT5JaitMt5tQ-f7AoVDRiDLS5AesNiV6zY1cEf30VhktKw9qsoVddgUNFi3oOXySnnLPgGxkH0SKWB3i8woeHGKLT9l7rBy_bRO4S_lEu/s400/ss12.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">This was a lovely, lovely meal - local seasonal food cooked with care and imagination, and served with thoughtful attention. Which is why we keep going back, and have yet to be disappointed. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDe5gcMh3TX91sOU-W9cWkqh6flDo3FVuoqau6DwaP93V0kCRyxd5mDLO5GtKgcbVU6jE8xuL7cV5Xspay9lAKkUDXaRE8zXdxFcgU1xO7c2anDS2KpaQD4HT-hJchlIP2iG6LfyQvFBoV/s1600/ss13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDe5gcMh3TX91sOU-W9cWkqh6flDo3FVuoqau6DwaP93V0kCRyxd5mDLO5GtKgcbVU6jE8xuL7cV5Xspay9lAKkUDXaRE8zXdxFcgU1xO7c2anDS2KpaQD4HT-hJchlIP2iG6LfyQvFBoV/s400/ss13.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Slightly stuffed and full of good cheer, we had a salty stagger through Whitstable, soaking up the sun and ending a fine Kent adventure. </div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-30887741762302711952010-05-17T13:13:00.002+01:002010-05-17T14:58:22.590+01:00Essex Food Show<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvjHUP-KV3Ni41BlHo4Ul76x1c3jcuHpxZtZBOQqZUm8oHjRh2v5_jXo43UlwB7HlH0hPhyfufhh1Rhj0f_nuZ_wBJ03Mpq7qpIsxnF8mElBrF7dTiGBHSrIAA3hxLTpZRSHibQlKPRh5G/s1600/es1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvjHUP-KV3Ni41BlHo4Ul76x1c3jcuHpxZtZBOQqZUm8oHjRh2v5_jXo43UlwB7HlH0hPhyfufhh1Rhj0f_nuZ_wBJ03Mpq7qpIsxnF8mElBrF7dTiGBHSrIAA3hxLTpZRSHibQlKPRh5G/s400/es1.jpg" width="300" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Thanks to Big Spud and Essex Gourmet, I was alerted to the pleasures of the Essex Food Show on Saturday. A quick hop down to Liverpool Street to meet Ian and we were on our way to the charming White Notley, the nearest station to the show. I'm always apprehensive about food shows I don't know: are they going to be full of manky faux local food that actually comes out of multi-national factories - or are they the genuine article? Thankfully, apart from the trouser press guy and some dubious mass produced bottled goods, the Essex Show was a really great showcase for local food. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9ItPrwDqI_W90AG0wvaAMJr2ddyP4ItXBV7PXzCnrGyna7PPfTgPOdMrmFN53K3VmfTUAY2mLZnNjpoBT4wJ5cYgqi7OXrvVshDYYdw2prPLFrILhACP4f46HP_eHJE5Jd_dyQLJgJLj/s1600/es2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9ItPrwDqI_W90AG0wvaAMJr2ddyP4ItXBV7PXzCnrGyna7PPfTgPOdMrmFN53K3VmfTUAY2mLZnNjpoBT4wJ5cYgqi7OXrvVshDYYdw2prPLFrILhACP4f46HP_eHJE5Jd_dyQLJgJLj/s400/es2.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Meat was the first purchase of the day - some fine beef from <a href="http://spayneshallfarmmeats.blogspot.com/">Spaynes Hall Farm Meats</a> based in Halstead. The beef is Red Poll, and all the other meats are rare breed. Also very tempting were the delicious Berkshire/Duroc sausages from <a href="http://freerangereview.com/shop/boxes-farm-battlesbridge-424">Boxes Farm</a> - spicey and juicy. I bagged half a dozen.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEzYO1bQKbLmvf_sEeplvbDnlA6fZktoTSrYGhGgJeeL-a3DncxLjYCB-39g78VtwwThMTbY-1hw93cWhwRxOTCp0bAf_i4DpLnF3Ta03F69kkQDF95_oFxYk8ewdCI1UCDhp7Fl1GLBCA/s1600/es4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEzYO1bQKbLmvf_sEeplvbDnlA6fZktoTSrYGhGgJeeL-a3DncxLjYCB-39g78VtwwThMTbY-1hw93cWhwRxOTCp0bAf_i4DpLnF3Ta03F69kkQDF95_oFxYk8ewdCI1UCDhp7Fl1GLBCA/s400/es4.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">At this point, the show got distinctly avian. <a href="http://www.pollysparrots-roadshow.co.uk/theshow.html">Polly's Parrots</a> is a one-man band and his troupe of rescued parrots - here's the rather shy macaw. The display was wonderful. Further along was this fine ex-batt hen, looking very calm and enjoying all the attention.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix75c0bHWWBW6UXJ7yg9Leudi603pXaHKzQsIBOB_J6YKJsW9F3iLpOg92pfQGDaAlarkwjYvl65r9JX3RdTe6IJ6_Pn45TbMJoVNH6WGDPbLS3KtfxLICnbyg2-9cKvTZjRr8sTguaFPp/s1600/es3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix75c0bHWWBW6UXJ7yg9Leudi603pXaHKzQsIBOB_J6YKJsW9F3iLpOg92pfQGDaAlarkwjYvl65r9JX3RdTe6IJ6_Pn45TbMJoVNH6WGDPbLS3KtfxLICnbyg2-9cKvTZjRr8sTguaFPp/s400/es3.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And as Ian munched his pasty, this fowl group came to take a closer look.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJrrBW00Fd_7tJxDItc-vK2edHifX_Mc3UOSQTFLE2AB2hl3QzYBpwUkC5VrrlLqn-zPIE82_0eZ1KJSlNDHa8nrNvcvG5hICbV1sUTV9RTw5RLNiKhjcuVBDAaZ_-EE_1mtXpVSVjboUe/s1600/es6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJrrBW00Fd_7tJxDItc-vK2edHifX_Mc3UOSQTFLE2AB2hl3QzYBpwUkC5VrrlLqn-zPIE82_0eZ1KJSlNDHa8nrNvcvG5hICbV1sUTV9RTw5RLNiKhjcuVBDAaZ_-EE_1mtXpVSVjboUe/s400/es6.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Away from the livestock, apples were getting mashed for cider. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJvlIPG8oBVcBZMakGw6SVxOQLRJV4ytr-z356oKRxJQfHXHouP6yqFn81-MHQ5FCa0vonNOwdQ6_hBZz6eQNvUQUMb6_zdRQ-BnmJFUtFBLI_HWtIRQNz0wdXQ2CbYBJnLJF7NsDrwfee/s1600/es7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJvlIPG8oBVcBZMakGw6SVxOQLRJV4ytr-z356oKRxJQfHXHouP6yqFn81-MHQ5FCa0vonNOwdQ6_hBZz6eQNvUQUMb6_zdRQ-BnmJFUtFBLI_HWtIRQNz0wdXQ2CbYBJnLJF7NsDrwfee/s400/es7.jpg" width="300" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The cider was good but not made with cider apples, so lacked a certain subtley. But very quaffable, none the less. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpU4Hf7HQb0SnkSOqOYFR8M-ogJ2Ek_n505OxC3jNYrF7OwzJNBQUQhE7gNb3kcXN9DmDS0IalUMilDHo6_l22CjgQD-9ukOH3jGSKhq2b7PmiFIh6QIpy1kA4hWSfsu1mvNvO_zFGiNIj/s1600/es8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpU4Hf7HQb0SnkSOqOYFR8M-ogJ2Ek_n505OxC3jNYrF7OwzJNBQUQhE7gNb3kcXN9DmDS0IalUMilDHo6_l22CjgQD-9ukOH3jGSKhq2b7PmiFIh6QIpy1kA4hWSfsu1mvNvO_zFGiNIj/s400/es8.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The food stalls were scattered throughout the collection of barns at Cressing, and it was lovely to see the guys from Love Farm there with their excellent rapeseed oil. At the back of one of the barns, I made my first big find of the day. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0sOq7faWlu7WnXkokPqn3c0V7a0j_0qukpgvUviNeQD_TSGTro5iaokwwGxKAibPeK1POQE2grzDL2T1EzYiF_rOBK-P9icxsq2E1I3xIBxgwdAYJGbbANNmabEyLw63krv3SDYpT2evn/s1600/es9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0sOq7faWlu7WnXkokPqn3c0V7a0j_0qukpgvUviNeQD_TSGTro5iaokwwGxKAibPeK1POQE2grzDL2T1EzYiF_rOBK-P9icxsq2E1I3xIBxgwdAYJGbbANNmabEyLw63krv3SDYpT2evn/s400/es9.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Three types of cheese from Crete, imported by a brand new Essex company. The creamy sheep's myzithra was fantastically good, and I was easily persuaded to get a pot. I don't much like goat's cheese, but Ian was impressed. I do hope we get to see more of these cheeses. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQms37FLrrgJPqE26yOr9h6_56iQ4ifCqEKDm85NL8aTRljs_OM7Bx-bFTDv41MGcU0y3XQTQKOXzFswJgFSGr3cXT6Pu_ILJgYToLXRkp-IbKmlZqTZKTr4CDTiwjuDIRTMjhhyphenhyphenwftbtf/s1600/es10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQms37FLrrgJPqE26yOr9h6_56iQ4ifCqEKDm85NL8aTRljs_OM7Bx-bFTDv41MGcU0y3XQTQKOXzFswJgFSGr3cXT6Pu_ILJgYToLXRkp-IbKmlZqTZKTr4CDTiwjuDIRTMjhhyphenhyphenwftbtf/s400/es10.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I sqeaked with excitement when I saw this stall and a row of d'Arcy Spice apple juice. My favourite apple (discovered last year at Lathcoat's) and an Essex original. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrRFAxJKkF9nSVu7c2Bkdew-GhUjMNXCCNA3myqEn9i3NrARcoKGMpwBT1c8V5TPVXK-wS89DA8BUQSjT5Bbjk2aPekleapp1HZr0igj5ndzBaqbNiBEGCYUJUkDMT6z3L23Lymv4ljwDt/s1600/es11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrRFAxJKkF9nSVu7c2Bkdew-GhUjMNXCCNA3myqEn9i3NrARcoKGMpwBT1c8V5TPVXK-wS89DA8BUQSjT5Bbjk2aPekleapp1HZr0igj5ndzBaqbNiBEGCYUJUkDMT6z3L23Lymv4ljwDt/s400/es11.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My second big discovery was this red wine jelly, made in Sardinia and exported by Tre Stella. It was utterly delicious. No problem making a buy here. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">By now, our bags were heaving and the weather was beginning to take on a gloomy hue. So we rang for a taxi and were lucky to get an asparagas-loving driver who swiftly conveyed us to the nearest farm shop were I bought the one desired item we didn't find at the fair. Back home, I cooked up a quick and very late brunch of egg, smoked bacon and asparagas...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2zhM1WcCsHNA_1sLYZgTWCPcgnlBf-AEse4D_IW6ACpWB0IAdA6p5TCim25VKSAoLAoIlJY9-xZMCAnNln7oeoOUJg7_GuPO78vPY0WQfmzHoEfzzOBR430eVp4vRHKsQjHCbfduPYbIY/s1600/es12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2zhM1WcCsHNA_1sLYZgTWCPcgnlBf-AEse4D_IW6ACpWB0IAdA6p5TCim25VKSAoLAoIlJY9-xZMCAnNln7oeoOUJg7_GuPO78vPY0WQfmzHoEfzzOBR430eVp4vRHKsQjHCbfduPYbIY/s400/es12.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">...followed by a slice of chocolate cheesecake; recipe from Jason Atherton's <em>Gourmet Food for a Fiver</em>. Jolly good it was too. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9SK4RHKwzeOp92GKRQs5Gv2TUUZho3R7EZZah7TPz0le9MAMTtIX-eeon4KP5aUMf4e56iPyi66kfL8Md4A45x7LkolG6xWLBsCjmxBVCO-wx93drBO6F2V2jAmV1AjxGadIO7X3YcFFV/s1600/es13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9SK4RHKwzeOp92GKRQs5Gv2TUUZho3R7EZZah7TPz0le9MAMTtIX-eeon4KP5aUMf4e56iPyi66kfL8Md4A45x7LkolG6xWLBsCjmxBVCO-wx93drBO6F2V2jAmV1AjxGadIO7X3YcFFV/s400/es13.jpg" width="300" wt="true" /></a></div>Thanks Ian for fine company and putting up (again) with a foodie on the rampage.franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-6954494064264961912010-05-10T15:07:00.001+01:002010-05-10T15:10:14.041+01:00Real Food Festival 2010<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjljxPuQZsZ4TL1Y9csd2lrcWjneLiA77tdFRqPvqhP1EeXCvgl3JkD8p-W3f-g26iqL7_uajfYKeAwRftL4eCoUMJ5zOsZSFuyJ4zFN2_TrVOC570Yb2-sQFxJQdj0qQca4PXYu2048Xv6/s1600/ff1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjljxPuQZsZ4TL1Y9csd2lrcWjneLiA77tdFRqPvqhP1EeXCvgl3JkD8p-W3f-g26iqL7_uajfYKeAwRftL4eCoUMJ5zOsZSFuyJ4zFN2_TrVOC570Yb2-sQFxJQdj0qQca4PXYu2048Xv6/s400/ff1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I don't know if it was my election up-all-night malaise, or no Big Bro, or something in the air, but this year's Real Food Festival seemed to lack the buzz of last year's. Maybe it's just that working an all-nighter makes me tireder than it used to. Anyway, I felt like snucking into the Laverstock piglets' pen and cuddling up to them. Petal the buffalo was also fast asleep. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhniVJ8d_EJ_-suERNwaJ72dVmSvFakI3C2Iumjm9pUs9cTMH-9zdkDh9JV_vslic867pLyTFafl4QhQy7swmfWeqJ4E4XY9JuwyTfh2IW8-C6bEJJ6YeWXINNISePfYnJfasHzHl55L9rD/s1600/ff2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhniVJ8d_EJ_-suERNwaJ72dVmSvFakI3C2Iumjm9pUs9cTMH-9zdkDh9JV_vslic867pLyTFafl4QhQy7swmfWeqJ4E4XY9JuwyTfh2IW8-C6bEJJ6YeWXINNISePfYnJfasHzHl55L9rD/s400/ff2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The first bit of food to tempt me was this fine Nordic cheese - I bought a hunk of the tasty prast which had a lovely depth of flavour. I don't seem to have taken many photos this year either, but other cheese that I loved was a yummy <a href="http://www.cornishcheese.co.uk/">Cornish Blue </a>and a very impressive Old Winchester, from <a href="http://www.lyburnfarm.co.uk/cheese2/">Lyburn cheeses</a> in the New Forest. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifmHK_QikNNA0BLn1Xtf-4c9Jim19lphrp8Hv9rHExe_fdJ45nn-3dbf8amZRmsTJRSoF35LOVADRXU9xrpJpgq0PqV10Dd1Z84qVQ6Yq7jTWVWP_iBlJHrtrVSmu_xKdpn-yPjztFTWsk/s1600/ff3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifmHK_QikNNA0BLn1Xtf-4c9Jim19lphrp8Hv9rHExe_fdJ45nn-3dbf8amZRmsTJRSoF35LOVADRXU9xrpJpgq0PqV10Dd1Z84qVQ6Yq7jTWVWP_iBlJHrtrVSmu_xKdpn-yPjztFTWsk/s400/ff3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I loved the design on these oil gift sets from <a href="http://www.nudo-italia.com/rth_produce.html">Nudo oils</a> and I thought the mandarin flavoured oil was lovely - not overly sweet but a real blast of citrus oil as a top taste note. I came away clutching a tiny tin.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Up to this point, I'd been wandering around without a catalogue, feeling slightly grumpy at having to fork out a fiver for one. But I needed a map, so wandered back, passing this glorious display of baklava. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhli2IBbbmQnXptqoiGrsDg_0K1uLwdfjBUwlQBWh6UhNCGUIKw6D5z7GoeRzUirD1l3yS2e2izPne60DRtLhbzfEp43CDLvOdRit9vJA1CNT6VRf4-ZPTAyaj1S3tE4uURpA5K2IGnpV0j/s1600/ff4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhli2IBbbmQnXptqoiGrsDg_0K1uLwdfjBUwlQBWh6UhNCGUIKw6D5z7GoeRzUirD1l3yS2e2izPne60DRtLhbzfEp43CDLvOdRit9vJA1CNT6VRf4-ZPTAyaj1S3tE4uURpA5K2IGnpV0j/s400/ff4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There were quite a few bigger brands at the fair, but one I didn't mind buying from was <a href="http://www.denhay.co.uk/">Denhay's</a>, as I've been buying their bacon for an age. And it was good to see <a href="http://www.tracklements.co.uk/">Tracklements</a> - I can remember buying their mustard 30 years ago when they were Urchfont Tracklements. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Weirdly, my find of the show was a rapeseed oil. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL4aUas1EZxGYrgUDtCuUuTICaCY2geX2hasZhqNz9sHkdnkx2BMLbmJFb9i9fVPZf-Cnj5oLmVxh53rLt8ch9xT7ao3clxQuHHan6j9oZ9BML-5O3wFxZI5JvJQEh-vumqX5tZlEsoipX/s1600/ff5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL4aUas1EZxGYrgUDtCuUuTICaCY2geX2hasZhqNz9sHkdnkx2BMLbmJFb9i9fVPZf-Cnj5oLmVxh53rLt8ch9xT7ao3clxQuHHan6j9oZ9BML-5O3wFxZI5JvJQEh-vumqX5tZlEsoipX/s400/ff5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">John and Tom are two brothers who have just started making oil at Love Farm in Suffolk. It's a beautiful oil, and the nuttiest rapeseed oil I've tasted. Their website doesn't seem to be up yet, but I told them to get on to Twitter and they have! Follow them at @love_farm. Good luck boys!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After three hours, I staggered off home, and unpacked my goodies, including three super puds from <a href="http://www.burtreepuddings.co.uk/">Burtree Puddings</a>, a favourite from last year, and a jar of my beloved date and tamarind chutney from Anila. A great haul, and I'm only sorry that my post-election malaise meant I didn't last for longer. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEa4EQFCXSeud-ICVW_s1uaG57eiqzV23BDmfg3dfduwO_Mv9UWyXR7b-EMrHJBWp_W6DfaLax-fVH3h1mRG6WbAje-pi7SzVTsQpKdaajKka62p1J17dbmQjKj-FmkobIM72JAc4VGY06/s1600/ff6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEa4EQFCXSeud-ICVW_s1uaG57eiqzV23BDmfg3dfduwO_Mv9UWyXR7b-EMrHJBWp_W6DfaLax-fVH3h1mRG6WbAje-pi7SzVTsQpKdaajKka62p1J17dbmQjKj-FmkobIM72JAc4VGY06/s400/ff6.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-55598328613940799342010-04-21T10:21:00.000+01:002010-04-21T10:21:22.480+01:00Superb seafood safari<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVp3_1e65m7zIy64H1_F7tuNbPxeYXiLNvmdJ6f6srhyphenhyphenHzuAtNQpUAInxOkJFPlSz2b0pQ0SoqjvE5pWrCWabcFqz-MJzHhTYssr4u_iLKxW4Ul3XUi19WFuXbzP5xIVXTriCcp2VME7Ee/s1600/suff.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVp3_1e65m7zIy64H1_F7tuNbPxeYXiLNvmdJ6f6srhyphenhyphenHzuAtNQpUAInxOkJFPlSz2b0pQ0SoqjvE5pWrCWabcFqz-MJzHhTYssr4u_iLKxW4Ul3XUi19WFuXbzP5xIVXTriCcp2VME7Ee/s400/suff.gif" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The sky is clear, spring is in the air: what better than a trip up to Suffolk for a seafood safari, run by Polly of <a href="http://www.foodsafari.co.uk/">Food Safari</a>. We all met up at the qauyside shop of <a href="http://www.butleyorfordoysterage.co.uk/">Pinney's of Orford</a>, to be greeted by Polly and a very tempting array of Suffolk goodies. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-6gk_QOFbHb3dN3VxyJDjMF_kuQozidwoOAfybmEWFjx_LGsk7djMJqjSnkhKmqLs5ocrqQ9tAZJiMBP7mUYceQ2WyZ59DPIEs-BD6db7WkGYnhWUVSkSrjr5CPry3CybdGpn2IgKBVua/s1600/suff3.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-6gk_QOFbHb3dN3VxyJDjMF_kuQozidwoOAfybmEWFjx_LGsk7djMJqjSnkhKmqLs5ocrqQ9tAZJiMBP7mUYceQ2WyZ59DPIEs-BD6db7WkGYnhWUVSkSrjr5CPry3CybdGpn2IgKBVua/s400/suff3.gif" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Orford is a beautiful town but for the first couple of hours, we viewed it from on board Peter's small fishing boat. The coast here is a complicated mixture of river, creeks and islands; both the Ore and the Alde flow past the town, so it's still a working port though not the sea port of the 12th century. We were heading down the Ore estuary, towards Havergate island. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA2C3SkFqAlhKFen01M2qgxK342DL7uEepBC-VN2TUlfBtnGa4L1G6DYs3A4imFYWuMgTiJmlKj96BUW-nGTS0MTMVrRVIJLQ6bMKnay0c22uilv_-U2YE495ioRkDq5kt9WRHwT4CUSS4/s1600/suff4.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA2C3SkFqAlhKFen01M2qgxK342DL7uEepBC-VN2TUlfBtnGa4L1G6DYs3A4imFYWuMgTiJmlKj96BUW-nGTS0MTMVrRVIJLQ6bMKnay0c22uilv_-U2YE495ioRkDq5kt9WRHwT4CUSS4/s400/suff4.gif" width="312" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Peter gave a running commentary about the landscape, then halted the boat to sort out the gill net. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlki2755y0EdS1sV-TZNXSS0Q0xwHVpQnhpV34V67UH_aj_n4f47D22Xnv-FqDtwEsktPLY8-BRbArBy3Aub10i2oMr7VKoJyZSPSv_k1OtAePn8oop_rPc_coYd-og1sVWO_LsIxlLQkX/s1600/suff5.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlki2755y0EdS1sV-TZNXSS0Q0xwHVpQnhpV34V67UH_aj_n4f47D22Xnv-FqDtwEsktPLY8-BRbArBy3Aub10i2oMr7VKoJyZSPSv_k1OtAePn8oop_rPc_coYd-og1sVWO_LsIxlLQkX/s400/suff5.gif" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A thoroughly sustainable method of fishing, this net catches fish of the right size by trapping them by the gills. Peter and his sidekick, the silent Gazza, manoeuvred the net into position across the flow of the river. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh79bq3Z6YQyZg4BfpnFQDNqSKE0yGVmg6Y6l3Rgu8x4p6y28zdOudzo6vn_Jv3AuR55JQ9_3gpPJrBal_7qh3kjqwkhvRyMKsoOn6jIaFVIFsY-1W-517CFSgBx3VnUprMWca_92PWtQW/s1600/suff6.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh79bq3Z6YQyZg4BfpnFQDNqSKE0yGVmg6Y6l3Rgu8x4p6y28zdOudzo6vn_Jv3AuR55JQ9_3gpPJrBal_7qh3kjqwkhvRyMKsoOn6jIaFVIFsY-1W-517CFSgBx3VnUprMWca_92PWtQW/s400/suff6.gif" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then it was time to haul up the lobster pots: the first time they'd seen the surface since last autumn. Peter wasn't very hopeful about seeing any lobsters - it's been a chilly spring for them and they've been slow to wake up from their winter slumbers. But we were lucky...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZm_TXrjlU6W0CXLAA7AJdDBq5_TryZnaZbeOeCRWAV4Y7LmGnn6CMZ1mwUER4n8xUQBpWdQEAt0wN0L5ZaPqwNguykDPWyXnuGdUiAdGICRPN4SFt_TUmaU2pWCkF7UffKnxMaPAEP9Hi/s1600/sufflob.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZm_TXrjlU6W0CXLAA7AJdDBq5_TryZnaZbeOeCRWAV4Y7LmGnn6CMZ1mwUER4n8xUQBpWdQEAt0wN0L5ZaPqwNguykDPWyXnuGdUiAdGICRPN4SFt_TUmaU2pWCkF7UffKnxMaPAEP9Hi/s400/sufflob.gif" width="300" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Peter whisked this lobster upside down to show us that it was a female - it's all a matter of feathery undergarments. But this lady was too small to be a keeper, so she was returned to the deep. Unluckier was this big crab, who was destined for the plate.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbxSrYU8ANomW38w0kSislp7gpmkWc3LwhKN77paBT7oTmSHL1EZKley25KPwVc0toZAiKQMIlCL-ykG9Cy35lHscZl2d5HPkUK-L7QeP_31zi8G-TztLztVprnf3mRvOq1C_3V8T8ueyR/s1600/suff7.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbxSrYU8ANomW38w0kSislp7gpmkWc3LwhKN77paBT7oTmSHL1EZKley25KPwVc0toZAiKQMIlCL-ykG9Cy35lHscZl2d5HPkUK-L7QeP_31zi8G-TztLztVprnf3mRvOq1C_3V8T8ueyR/s400/suff7.gif" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We returned to the gill net and hauled in a few herrings, sparklingly fresh. Then it was back to the quayside, and we stopped to admire a load of line-caught cod, landed by an Irish boat. They were being packed off for sale at Ipswich. Our minivan arrived and we headed off to meet Bill Pinney, who's carrying on his family's tradition of rearing oysters and running the smokehouse. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUg7Bnogl7Y-Yz8HYzjUPqrh1SJ8V7ebwbzD3H5v6KRaIaWLozTA7CKdOPfAYfxxfDKsY5EmGmxh0Q36nw2fXuE0f4YnxattMC14f8taaMKBJv7Wp-8YntJsoqJw91OcAgYqa1ZZNB2gvI/s1600/suff8.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUg7Bnogl7Y-Yz8HYzjUPqrh1SJ8V7ebwbzD3H5v6KRaIaWLozTA7CKdOPfAYfxxfDKsY5EmGmxh0Q36nw2fXuE0f4YnxattMC14f8taaMKBJv7Wp-8YntJsoqJw91OcAgYqa1ZZNB2gvI/s400/suff8.gif" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bill had been dredging for oysters and showed us the different kinds and sizes. His family also runs two fishing boats, and he has strong veiws about our fish stocks: there is plenty of cod out there, he says, and the big problem now is the quota that small fishing vessels are allowed. It seems we're looking after the big fishing enterprises but not the small sustainable ones. So it <em>is</em> okay to eat line-caught cod...especially if you can trace who caught it. Next, we had a look round the wonderfully scented smoke house.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ACzoE0VTWbFURCftOencr85RzRQAq_nqXvkNZWMfe4kb3x8Lr-R7ipMcjlGzTBJNTpFPiDB68hTfUqUh38KQsafAlnJ-UeTx5rEFoAjOKmRnbHMnF8l2mCNjyzWZksgyKK3Cv2kSrWh1/s1600/suff9.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ACzoE0VTWbFURCftOencr85RzRQAq_nqXvkNZWMfe4kb3x8Lr-R7ipMcjlGzTBJNTpFPiDB68hTfUqUh38KQsafAlnJ-UeTx5rEFoAjOKmRnbHMnF8l2mCNjyzWZksgyKK3Cv2kSrWh1/s400/suff9.gif" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The fish is smoked over whole oak logs, and hanging up here is salmon, trout, eel and mackeral. Yum. By now, I was ravenous. I was ready to eat oak logs if neccessary...but the minibus turned up and it was back to Orford again, to Bill's <a href="http://www.butleyorfordoysterage.co.uk/restaurant.html">Butlery Orford Oysterage</a> in the town square. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi23R1SeZsXCdKRPeNNLcdOsbbmxDvWbdc3w_LnXdz4qdkmLPJvLS0z04Rs7rs3E-45J-wPnkcZPp-JJmrrXCkSA-PeDyAENa7yn3RZKvfsvxQP5twaGMGTNNEMe8l4GuJYixwhnJt_n78x/s1600/suff10.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi23R1SeZsXCdKRPeNNLcdOsbbmxDvWbdc3w_LnXdz4qdkmLPJvLS0z04Rs7rs3E-45J-wPnkcZPp-JJmrrXCkSA-PeDyAENa7yn3RZKvfsvxQP5twaGMGTNNEMe8l4GuJYixwhnJt_n78x/s400/suff10.gif" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We were soon facing a fantastic platter of smoked goodies. The smoked prawns and eel were my favourites, and the mustard sauce was a perfect accompaniment. After the main course, there was a chance to try your hand at carving salmon and opening oysters: the two lads who'd come with their restuarant owning parents were clear winners here. Then the puds arrived: a superb sticky toffee sponge for me, and an equally good lemon sponge for others. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAc4ZCvZSSzmnf7Z80ErBvD99PIDPMH50nDyIG4AhGRD1kG6Lc849LvkUP-5-Ibql6VSfGpwxtu8GjHtfPlrIuthquW29r35egZQ945tlJ1ZmKcMgJUkdpEY6BuJlTh3WA3GaKBhbR2bG6/s1600/suff3.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAc4ZCvZSSzmnf7Z80ErBvD99PIDPMH50nDyIG4AhGRD1kG6Lc849LvkUP-5-Ibql6VSfGpwxtu8GjHtfPlrIuthquW29r35egZQ945tlJ1ZmKcMgJUkdpEY6BuJlTh3WA3GaKBhbR2bG6/s400/suff3.gif" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The lovely Tony and Susan, who'd ferried me from the station in the morning, very kindly offered to take me back, so there was a chance to pop back to Pinney's shop and stock up on smoked salmon, a lovely fish pate and some of that mustard sauce. All in all, a wonderful day with great company, and a real insight into the production of one of our finest British foods. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Many thanks to Polly, and to Tony and Susan.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-70976911968254326732010-04-16T16:54:00.000+01:002010-04-16T16:54:42.151+01:00In praise of Abel and Cole<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-1RyGaaWaStoTQ9I1OWAWB8_fBck_-v16rjnFa2qZ22CUKtZ24LnUTWEBpF9qJkwiAUxmCmluLADkRzJpn878ahawmTZPETF1s8M-D8g34MZIecEPbVjWLUjJ1FUmEGQbMnUIE2qVs_b/s1600/abel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-1RyGaaWaStoTQ9I1OWAWB8_fBck_-v16rjnFa2qZ22CUKtZ24LnUTWEBpF9qJkwiAUxmCmluLADkRzJpn878ahawmTZPETF1s8M-D8g34MZIecEPbVjWLUjJ1FUmEGQbMnUIE2qVs_b/s200/abel.jpg" width="200" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> I arrived home the other night and as cast a glance behind the hedge to check on my Abel and Cole veggie box, which gets delivered during the day. This week, for the first time ever, there was nothing. No veggie box. No eggs. No woolly box with my cream in it. No loo rolls. Nothing. But the delivery had clearly been made - I found the invoice on my doormat. Some local toerag must have made off with my week's supply of green goodness. I rang Abel and Cole just to check when the delivery had been made...and explained to the lovely Lex what had happened. 'We'll refund your account,' he said. I protested: you musn't do that - it's not your fault that my box got nicked - we argued back and forth but Lex was insistant. So I have my money back. I call that absolutely amazing customer service. Thank you Lex and Abel and Cole!</div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-31404783221052717272010-04-07T14:45:00.000+01:002010-04-07T14:45:07.891+01:00Review: New Urban Farmer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQDrWGCWnBiMs_QMAlXQkJGxXhWPX4Th-aFI3Sjg6rHE_qqH5PE6LPUj3ZnMjsDo9di90IYCtiiMOKPI9U4rMcG4lAnMSoM01aSm7Dsi41f_V-o1w-_Rl5OVHT_DVWOEUr6Kdij9Tn-IpJ/s1600/newurban.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQDrWGCWnBiMs_QMAlXQkJGxXhWPX4Th-aFI3Sjg6rHE_qqH5PE6LPUj3ZnMjsDo9di90IYCtiiMOKPI9U4rMcG4lAnMSoM01aSm7Dsi41f_V-o1w-_Rl5OVHT_DVWOEUr6Kdij9Tn-IpJ/s400/newurban.jpg" width="278" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Celia Brooks Brown already has a favoured place on my cookery book shelves thanks to her excellent <em>World Vegetarian Classics</em>. Now her <em>Times</em> online column has sprouted into the handsome <em>New Urban Farmer,</em> which follows the gardening and eating year on her north London allotment. It's the latest in the burgeoning genre of veg-growing/cookery books, and while some may not like this hybrid, I think Brooks Brown has come up with one of the best.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The books starts conventionally - and sensibly - with the early spring and the excitement of the first sowings of the year. Brooks Brown's enthusiasm for the rhythms of allotment life is beautifully captured, both in her writing and the fine photographs by Jill Mead. Each seasonal section is full of advice on growing and harvesting, and for those who don't have the joy of an allotment, there are great tips about what can be grown in containers. A useful chart of what to sow and harvest follows each chapter. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Recipes can be the downfall of the gardening/cookery hybrid but not here: Brooks Brown is too good a cook. I'll be making pea and feta egg cups and the rhubarb and lentil curry as soon as I can, and the soy glazed runner beans with cashews may pursuade me to fall back in love with this over-abundant legume.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As a reasonably experienced veg grower I didn't find much that was startlingly new - until I read about the Mauritian idea of cooking courgette leaves. Brooks Brown tried it and loved it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The one thing I missed was information about vegetable varieties - cucumber Burpless Tasty Green and Swiss chard Bright Lights get a name check, but that's about it. Nevertheless, this is a book I'll return to throughout the year, and it would make a fine gift for a hungry allotmenteer. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">New Urban Farmer by Celia Brooks Brown</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Quadrille £14.99</div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-68716809453313879062010-03-24T12:09:00.000+00:002010-03-24T12:09:17.641+00:00Dorset delight 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0gP7L3XN38uqcw2mn3uWKo7q9hcvNlOJEuLSkhRYU0J0meAoUtRs7km2an1vIQKgEG82ySE31aC0UawgKAni51U5t9oWcSaADMMHR2eTZDQqYli5UH7dF1XsBRC4MelvdRLtEMfLN_Zet/s1600/dors3.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0gP7L3XN38uqcw2mn3uWKo7q9hcvNlOJEuLSkhRYU0J0meAoUtRs7km2an1vIQKgEG82ySE31aC0UawgKAni51U5t9oWcSaADMMHR2eTZDQqYli5UH7dF1XsBRC4MelvdRLtEMfLN_Zet/s400/dors3.gif" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Last Monday we had a wonderful walk from Lulworth Cove, past Durdle Door then inland via one of Dorset's many caravan sites. Ever since arriving in the county, we'd been amazed at how nice people were, and we decided that these so-called caravan sites were actually re-education camps for people who weren't nice. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkDBT_Qb8x7I_n-U2HrF35a5ar-TuXG_5fEJBIBXlAhCGcoGwpVaM1zpQoNb8B8Ch42zXKnQytsXIJ_us_XuAo5rzxQOnPam9BUE2pUZcJmSzfthR4a1GaCmabukrsmVERQNh6IYdHmkYu/s1600/dors1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkDBT_Qb8x7I_n-U2HrF35a5ar-TuXG_5fEJBIBXlAhCGcoGwpVaM1zpQoNb8B8Ch42zXKnQytsXIJ_us_XuAo5rzxQOnPam9BUE2pUZcJmSzfthR4a1GaCmabukrsmVERQNh6IYdHmkYu/s400/dors1.gif" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After our hike, we returned to the bay to soak in the sun and get our faces round the excellent <a href="http://www.purbeckicecream.co.uk/index.htm">Purbeck ice creams. </a>This being a holiday, I had a serious chocolate with a scoop of clotted cream on top. J went for the Honeycombe Hash. Very very good.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPyVqETqGRC4fBot87NOyXrvRwTz5RL8r9jncYy6Lh9chsg70kQhDr8RdFp3AvileulnqlNtwCLio8Kc8TK4KwQGGVCy7_EGP7xZ4iUN7zgdnplLA1fv05oImMc9aduxGBpHd0xhGpVfGF/s1600/dors2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPyVqETqGRC4fBot87NOyXrvRwTz5RL8r9jncYy6Lh9chsg70kQhDr8RdFp3AvileulnqlNtwCLio8Kc8TK4KwQGGVCy7_EGP7xZ4iUN7zgdnplLA1fv05oImMc9aduxGBpHd0xhGpVfGF/s400/dors2.gif" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Our roast on Sunday evening was a lovely chicken from Washingpool Farm - it did a fine job of furnishing us with two suppers, a lunchtime noodle salad and stock for a rissotto at the end of the week. Lamb wasn't on the menu, but we did admire this cutey in a field on the way into Lyme. The kerbside was awash with the first wild garlic leaves.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU0ltMtbhdC_y2pr-ChBA2P2_7INhA1vVBmeLnGrj6mDmWGQIkRHgGMUxbl8j8SAONLAW5jqLZac_tUgxwWh0ISWWUUHWZFRdwcDtJYkX1hAH-ObAYlgd0ZIhc1iHJnnqKTBL6g3rb4r3o/s1600/dors4.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="271" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU0ltMtbhdC_y2pr-ChBA2P2_7INhA1vVBmeLnGrj6mDmWGQIkRHgGMUxbl8j8SAONLAW5jqLZac_tUgxwWh0ISWWUUHWZFRdwcDtJYkX1hAH-ObAYlgd0ZIhc1iHJnnqKTBL6g3rb4r3o/s400/dors4.gif" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">By midweek, we were running low on bread and on a visit to Weymouth we were thrilled to stumble on Aidan Chapman's <a href="http://www.phoenixbakery.co.uk/Content/default.asp">Phoenix Bakery</a>. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGrpTsx35DRx8-AxtxTkJYTaPvavPKurVRHg2SOohfbiWZDXMA4aVXTczexICW1tDLi6PmZH-y_ek7LEwZk_ulhq3ZdpRFs-cj7MmwOt6NcjIeMK8qjxlJJLjTwXWRlPcX-K5950Amuru4/s1600/aa_bread_1aidan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGrpTsx35DRx8-AxtxTkJYTaPvavPKurVRHg2SOohfbiWZDXMA4aVXTczexICW1tDLi6PmZH-y_ek7LEwZk_ulhq3ZdpRFs-cj7MmwOt6NcjIeMK8qjxlJJLjTwXWRlPcX-K5950Amuru4/s400/aa_bread_1aidan.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The yeasty smells in the shop were fantastic, and we picked up a warm loaf of sunflower seeds and spelt. Perfect for J who's not eating wheat at the moment. It really was a fantastic loaf, and stayed moist until it was all gobbled up. Aidan runs a bakery school - now that's a seriously good reason to return to Dorset.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh42m9zT0caQzt4ZXNEYPc8e9u285buyMYpS3Ae3SVy99kA6yf3AKw1IWqvqlXafG94f0mmpk0IcZ_5CNGawX9obJ1WI0EHvjskspA8V-TGFTF58Qq-muS56GRbdnVmYiDdZMe3EhKu_Y17/s1600/leakers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh42m9zT0caQzt4ZXNEYPc8e9u285buyMYpS3Ae3SVy99kA6yf3AKw1IWqvqlXafG94f0mmpk0IcZ_5CNGawX9obJ1WI0EHvjskspA8V-TGFTF58Qq-muS56GRbdnVmYiDdZMe3EhKu_Y17/s400/leakers.jpg" width="257" /></a></div>The other brilliant bakers that I already knew about is <a href="http://www.leakersbakery.co.uk/index.html">Leakers,</a> in Bridport, where Aidan used to work. We did visit it was were on our way home - my cider and cheese loaf got nibbled all the way back to Tottenham, and the apple cake was a natural with clotted cream.<br />
All in all, we had a brilliant time. Food, weather and people all great, and I've fallen in love with Dorset. I hope I can return soon.franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-17417642210959692252010-03-23T13:52:00.000+00:002010-03-23T13:52:28.688+00:00Dorset delight 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKGtJs3hiq6NLSJ6VzFX_fssjObxpm4P5_6MGCn07-XGbVe7hmtnmnSe51e_NeMGLX6pYQiIjJs-Stf-Lu3BS4vk2EVcSMEyQWwZI9TVsVjfqB2VQiDIX7FJbyn29OusW7XVBxJ3qa1xuj/s1600-h/dor1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKGtJs3hiq6NLSJ6VzFX_fssjObxpm4P5_6MGCn07-XGbVe7hmtnmnSe51e_NeMGLX6pYQiIjJs-Stf-Lu3BS4vk2EVcSMEyQWwZI9TVsVjfqB2VQiDIX7FJbyn29OusW7XVBxJ3qa1xuj/s400/dor1.gif" vt="true" width="356" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Whenever J and I go on holiday abroad, we always expect a cat to turn up. They know when they see a soft touch. But we hadn't expected to attract one in Dorset. Until Butt Head arrived in a record ten minutes. He came in each evening to lie by the fire. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Our first shop of the hols was at nearby <a href="http://www.washingpool.co.uk/">Washingpool Farm Shop</a>, which stocked a fabulous range of local produce, plus some brilliant seasonal treats like blood oranges. I nabbed some rhubarb to roast with the juice of an orange and sugar. We also bought some excellent sheep's cheese from the Wootton Dairy in next-door Somerset. Then we settled down to lunch at the excellent cafe - smoked mackeral salad for J and a cheese and spinach souffle for me. Tasty and just the thing after a long drive. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTRtDJ6WXCp1qNYlfN9922XWEK8l4MprFokQ96e9401z1oK2UYqTSpyaF-N7eIh6mcr4IB-Ee4qFnwfu-VcGHlAD3ZvuiMxPfvCn5eySABXoEuFTRVS2ExTQpPLPLf0Co74av59l4TMagZ/s1600-h/dor2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTRtDJ6WXCp1qNYlfN9922XWEK8l4MprFokQ96e9401z1oK2UYqTSpyaF-N7eIh6mcr4IB-Ee4qFnwfu-VcGHlAD3ZvuiMxPfvCn5eySABXoEuFTRVS2ExTQpPLPLf0Co74av59l4TMagZ/s400/dor2.gif" vt="true" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Our first whole day was gloriously sunny, and we ended up walking from Seatown, over Golden Cap, down to the beach for Charmouth and then inland to Lyme Regis. The views from the top of Golden Cap were amazing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLyze7TyfWzpuo00MVHWBkUzulHq-zvC6pgg69GuhggCSBRvELYTywc76s5tRWPNe2NzjJHJUH0MdtgAcO56F5yz4TElfK4RLBeZ89NlCpE8AQCkYiuzOdglLUIlzIbd2D4qjcxbe_Tb9d/s1600-h/dor3.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLyze7TyfWzpuo00MVHWBkUzulHq-zvC6pgg69GuhggCSBRvELYTywc76s5tRWPNe2NzjJHJUH0MdtgAcO56F5yz4TElfK4RLBeZ89NlCpE8AQCkYiuzOdglLUIlzIbd2D4qjcxbe_Tb9d/s400/dor3.gif" vt="true" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And here's the view the other way, looking over to Lyme and Charmouth.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvqlSlqQTr4dTjLedu_F-f_cimvIOwwCcfdLL9o2tKTGQ9xGZ6Qh4Ybvy5CvlszLEBv11GcwLfyK_XaLNSxhH8DqZljL53oT0MVMjPM_skD679gceq5hwV5uF6YnlGt3_5b-Reb7HpvN3/s1600-h/dor4.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvqlSlqQTr4dTjLedu_F-f_cimvIOwwCcfdLL9o2tKTGQ9xGZ6Qh4Ybvy5CvlszLEBv11GcwLfyK_XaLNSxhH8DqZljL53oT0MVMjPM_skD679gceq5hwV5uF6YnlGt3_5b-Reb7HpvN3/s400/dor4.gif" vt="true" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We had a good nose round Lyme, and soon saw signs for a new cheeseshop. After clambering down to the Town Mill, we found it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDhkv3PFph6mkrVeyobo5XTimWnwxrfADIR071fDI1Fu6YAkjDAhOzpsqs_jfHjKqF3KRJIsnHlC-vDy0MNJuiUMX4nsEYnP1jaGLwX8jOwCXCdvbr-cCBQ7Jy1EzyQHDwgewLRbvATx6w/s1600-h/dor5.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDhkv3PFph6mkrVeyobo5XTimWnwxrfADIR071fDI1Fu6YAkjDAhOzpsqs_jfHjKqF3KRJIsnHlC-vDy0MNJuiUMX4nsEYnP1jaGLwX8jOwCXCdvbr-cCBQ7Jy1EzyQHDwgewLRbvATx6w/s400/dor5.gif" vt="true" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.townmillcheese.co.uk/">The Town Mill Cheesemonger</a> has a fantastic array of cheeses, and specialises in West Country products. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXFnPCRSECSnnBx33xwGh0Be5jA8wjyphxhIugl0OICgkPOr873abfjHLAEEtGFyZa48mcMABSICqbn1HC_gOuzMSJsluBOR9RYIf4ntQf3kozSnYQ4ryNv1QNEP-VNaK0TEgb1n2nOUK6/s1600-h/dor6.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXFnPCRSECSnnBx33xwGh0Be5jA8wjyphxhIugl0OICgkPOr873abfjHLAEEtGFyZa48mcMABSICqbn1HC_gOuzMSJsluBOR9RYIf4ntQf3kozSnYQ4ryNv1QNEP-VNaK0TEgb1n2nOUK6/s400/dor6.gif" vt="true" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We were on a bit of a sheeps' cheese binge, so we scooped up some Beenleigh Blue and a wonderful cheese from Northumberland whose name I've mislaid. It's a lovely shop and it's now on our list of 'must visits' at Lyme. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0RDXK23CXJ0NpBISTYSWxys7QZ_zKfqhsFOW_4nP3a2JemU6Ta2ERJirEM220tglo7qFguKrvV7jqzjYJ5WerbekRzmkBeOKdX9cSPzJK7EKwKGZIupzlz08EppZ-fuivJ6DBleZN_je3/s1600-h/dor7.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0RDXK23CXJ0NpBISTYSWxys7QZ_zKfqhsFOW_4nP3a2JemU6Ta2ERJirEM220tglo7qFguKrvV7jqzjYJ5WerbekRzmkBeOKdX9cSPzJK7EKwKGZIupzlz08EppZ-fuivJ6DBleZN_je3/s400/dor7.gif" vt="true" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Lyme has lots of signs up warning you against fraternising with gulls, but I love the vandals. They just don't care, and why should they.</div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-77982052190428063202010-03-22T13:45:00.001+00:002010-03-23T14:03:33.991+00:00Dorset delight 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqXiY7Mpl8mxuJbHlRUCmgqiM62hYksT_724CPx4KNTHR03puPYVLC_yEzMJCDlUxbsAftAW4u3zi3LKrPn4CBfJXldfHt1GGJfberNBXYp-j1kzZJvqrJ7aqWeqYqQao59PN-_ZrpriXS/s1600-h/dorset1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqXiY7Mpl8mxuJbHlRUCmgqiM62hYksT_724CPx4KNTHR03puPYVLC_yEzMJCDlUxbsAftAW4u3zi3LKrPn4CBfJXldfHt1GGJfberNBXYp-j1kzZJvqrJ7aqWeqYqQao59PN-_ZrpriXS/s400/dorset1.gif" vt="true" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A week in Dorset is surely one of the best treats a girl could wish for - J and I had a superb week of walking and eating in one of the most beautiful parts of the country. Lulworth Cove, past Durdle Door and then inland was our Monday walk: this is the view from one of the roller coaster uphill stretches. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We hoped that one of the highlights of the week would be our visit to The Wild Garlic at Beaminster. Last year I watched Mat win Masterchef and loved his take on seafood and the wild larder, so I'd booked a table as soon as I'd secured our holiday cottage. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3MnDuLws4EVuKbIi4sqvF_q6_9jBJYNzBJYzJWb_85m_CG7jVG775q7rvvgzWtc8DLvw_esjS7Y3I1ayeREaPDTQUxrQzJ9qnz91et8J6t1wZ0fkmYzcN4wJA121fDtef4kYeQ_TPVa4Y/s1600-h/dorset2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3MnDuLws4EVuKbIi4sqvF_q6_9jBJYNzBJYzJWb_85m_CG7jVG775q7rvvgzWtc8DLvw_esjS7Y3I1ayeREaPDTQUxrQzJ9qnz91et8J6t1wZ0fkmYzcN4wJA121fDtef4kYeQ_TPVa4Y/s400/dorset2.gif" vt="true" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After three days of hearty walking, we arrived in the town sqaure to find The Wild Garlic beaming a warm welcome. Once inside, we settled down at our beautiful oak table and guzzled on the bread which arrived with hemp oil and wasabi peas. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil2lo1ErZACA29ABOa1TZxrPtAG4dK8sA0Qrf-d9hI_JwYmoJoWmlwHrjdKOrqs94JviowR1Aequ87EvvzLBsGvcSuWYUHE62QLHnWQcEzJIxIvpPin8OGdnKygueYgef0X6hLbgid_gI8/s1600-h/dorset3.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil2lo1ErZACA29ABOa1TZxrPtAG4dK8sA0Qrf-d9hI_JwYmoJoWmlwHrjdKOrqs94JviowR1Aequ87EvvzLBsGvcSuWYUHE62QLHnWQcEzJIxIvpPin8OGdnKygueYgef0X6hLbgid_gI8/s400/dorset3.gif" vt="true" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Choosing what to eat wasn't too difficult although I was torn for a moment between the sardines and the smoked eel salad - but the wild garlic mayo with the sardines clinched it. J went with a butternut squash salad with mixed cheeses. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFLK5egtr77Sgabv5FnWkoy_nMfpUVBqJY7hWn0gMIHJhYnj19S0c2fyyaiWVwYrY3a5AK4wRL5e5Xczs5Ssrh9KBvzaHbQa4OXhW1CJ5XNaClYvzkImWBqWkLZHrLIVt3koqmEsprszQL/s1600-h/dorset4.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFLK5egtr77Sgabv5FnWkoy_nMfpUVBqJY7hWn0gMIHJhYnj19S0c2fyyaiWVwYrY3a5AK4wRL5e5Xczs5Ssrh9KBvzaHbQa4OXhW1CJ5XNaClYvzkImWBqWkLZHrLIVt3koqmEsprszQL/s400/dorset4.gif" vt="true" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It looked beautiful, served with primrose flowers and different cresses. J got a dreamy look on her face and declared it wonderful.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbfJBieosmp3fehCNUBWRVhLLOBQdNqW8VTYde4CARHBEaTFUBNhxY_cUWwc3grJ4RtV3J1A6m4Wqie3xNvJpU6URMrZOXHR2Tl28X23z7bCDS63JEzt-D7dEx3vT3EMX8l-Wv09ctFUSA/s1600-h/dorset5.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbfJBieosmp3fehCNUBWRVhLLOBQdNqW8VTYde4CARHBEaTFUBNhxY_cUWwc3grJ4RtV3J1A6m4Wqie3xNvJpU6URMrZOXHR2Tl28X23z7bCDS63JEzt-D7dEx3vT3EMX8l-Wv09ctFUSA/s400/dorset5.gif" vt="true" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My sardines came with sprigs of samphire. The combination of the fish, salty greens and mayonaisse was superb. The mayo was so good I could easily have eaten a whole bucket of it. So far, so very good: this was on track to be one of the best meals I've had in the past 18 months. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9gKN7C3Fp_9gladHnYcRvAOgWoWFrxZ05w1kifjGNJU_RE9MG-rphNS46vUjVmItKvz2EZPHN9PgjuaChvPW78biHyEWcqRm_7PPIHPMDqtaAfx5OtASR5KZguZmSh-YBIj244TzFajbl/s1600-h/dorset6.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9gKN7C3Fp_9gladHnYcRvAOgWoWFrxZ05w1kifjGNJU_RE9MG-rphNS46vUjVmItKvz2EZPHN9PgjuaChvPW78biHyEWcqRm_7PPIHPMDqtaAfx5OtASR5KZguZmSh-YBIj244TzFajbl/s400/dorset6.gif" vt="true" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Next to turn up was an unexpected amuse bouche of lightly cured brill, capers and pea shoots - absolutely lovely, and set us up for the baked brill which we'd both ordered for our mains. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh61inYGG-N1JymSpdVJoEjgOP7zIgZd9orntbddY4xpItuEbBgRugHcNdiQq34W1tkWSutMmxGYCKx96Wq5hxgRc2n0L12VFpiZe7b5csGyeIMTg8PCjFHpBoPuxtGrCP33d4vOjd8GvFt/s1600-h/dorset7.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh61inYGG-N1JymSpdVJoEjgOP7zIgZd9orntbddY4xpItuEbBgRugHcNdiQq34W1tkWSutMmxGYCKx96Wq5hxgRc2n0L12VFpiZe7b5csGyeIMTg8PCjFHpBoPuxtGrCP33d4vOjd8GvFt/s400/dorset7.gif" vt="true" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">'Brill city,' said our waiter, placing an enourmous platter in front of each of us. The brill was cooked perfectly - a moist and melting flesh contrasted with an insanely tasty crispy skin and the drizzle of caper and lemon butter sauce. I never thought that brill skin would be one of my favourite things to eat, but it is now. J and I went quite silent as we munched our way through the fish. A superb dish. Did we have room for a dessert? You betcha. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh7L_yB0rHhW-Q179iUhmltXoRksmO-S0pl_YZmCwOx359k-lB4hSYYz14V-kunB6hSNrCzu-GHY6oqs5j9_JpbDE2OkMz7J-ZrKXJzFkwy3rueidgfw8uOUFspkWZ4jNMEas__cPDumMG/s1600-h/dorset8.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh7L_yB0rHhW-Q179iUhmltXoRksmO-S0pl_YZmCwOx359k-lB4hSYYz14V-kunB6hSNrCzu-GHY6oqs5j9_JpbDE2OkMz7J-ZrKXJzFkwy3rueidgfw8uOUFspkWZ4jNMEas__cPDumMG/s400/dorset8.gif" vt="true" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">J went for the chocolate tart with blood orange sorbet, and about halfway through, declared that it was one of the best puddings she's ever had. I'd gone for the citrus burnt cream - yes, it's a creme brulee but I liked the insistance on the vernacular. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVLIX45WperLsAb5GDkEhFdNtERvMLOL75oFh29c-s2Rcj40Rz0nfSVgK4-xNpeQw8W0ehkpcrGLT2Y2tTaWTMdY1U9xb_p-KoAg5T2Q1fKe666s9ekiLGgOhP9ZTrUQgQepovmZkGhmEN/s1600-h/dorset9.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVLIX45WperLsAb5GDkEhFdNtERvMLOL75oFh29c-s2Rcj40Rz0nfSVgK4-xNpeQw8W0ehkpcrGLT2Y2tTaWTMdY1U9xb_p-KoAg5T2Q1fKe666s9ekiLGgOhP9ZTrUQgQepovmZkGhmEN/s400/dorset9.gif" vt="true" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was wonderful, with the hint of citrus just holding at bay the unctiousness of the cream. By this point, we were well and truly bowled over by the meal. Not just by the individual courses but by the way the meal developed so that it was impossible to say which course we'd prefered. All in all, bloody fantastic food. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It has been a great evening - the only slight criticism we could make was that the waiting staff haven't yet quite developed those super sensitive antennae that tell them when a glass of wine is missing. But they were a very friendly and welcoming bunch. And it was lovely to see the restuarant full on a weekday evening. Mat wandered out as we were leaving and J grabbed a handshake and told him how much we'd enjoyed it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Next time I'm watching Masterchef and groaning at the voice-overs, I'll remember to be grateful that it produced such a fine winner.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbja4bY2IVUwnQy0RSJPAvBxpbZKB4R61kWDZBMnXArPDauZPBzVvGFq_JoB1I2IJeuiEpClWfMXCXojjQ5spPp2fAduL2MpGSpH-MfTrfvAC9LzST7qq_x53a-phY-iuu7uuWrJnT8PtE/s1600-h/dorset10.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbja4bY2IVUwnQy0RSJPAvBxpbZKB4R61kWDZBMnXArPDauZPBzVvGFq_JoB1I2IJeuiEpClWfMXCXojjQ5spPp2fAduL2MpGSpH-MfTrfvAC9LzST7qq_x53a-phY-iuu7uuWrJnT8PtE/s400/dorset10.gif" vt="true" width="400" /></a></div>So if you're in Dorset - or even if you're not - The Wild Garlic is a wonderful place to eat with the seasons.franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-61699228174211617682010-02-22T16:59:00.002+00:002010-02-23T11:35:27.388+00:00Lunch failIt's not often that I have a meal so stupidly cooked that I need to write about it, but last week's lunch at Davy's Wine Bar in west London was a monument to bad eating.<br />
Neither C nor I wanted much to eat, and C warned me that the food wasn't great. I chose halloumi and couscous thinking that there wasn't much that could go wrong...a big mistake. Halloumi, that wonderful cheese from Cyprus, is meant to be cooked (unless you can get hold of the really fresh stuff). For me, the whole point of Halloumi is that wonderful salty, squeaky, hot and crisp sensation that you get when the cheese comes straight from the grill or the pan. Something like this...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq5FPv8r_G9oXK1xgLuXOJT_B9UkW7m4ZP9_H2efXwtuJmLpAO9v6QNJUrmRRlGZv3RJKtr-q-tfCSp5FM1YhmjCsZucbz6TwGs3IrN-AkCDnT8hw5gIC3Kuu_kWhpC___vF2BNwoC2YKq/s1600-h/Halloumi-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq5FPv8r_G9oXK1xgLuXOJT_B9UkW7m4ZP9_H2efXwtuJmLpAO9v6QNJUrmRRlGZv3RJKtr-q-tfCSp5FM1YhmjCsZucbz6TwGs3IrN-AkCDnT8hw5gIC3Kuu_kWhpC___vF2BNwoC2YKq/s320/Halloumi-1.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div style="font: 12px Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Davy's doesn't do hot halloumi. There were some very pale griddle marks on one side of the cheese and none on the other. The result was a tepid hunk of pale tastelessness. The poor cheese sat on a bed of couscous to which no seasoning or lubrication had been added. So a plate that could have been quite tasty was utterly unattractive and really quite nasty to eat. What a complete bloody waste of ingrediants.</span></div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-2115801540298589352010-02-07T17:41:00.003+00:002010-02-07T17:50:19.802+00:00A taste of Hereford<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Off and out first thing yesterday to Hereford, where I lived for 18 months after uni. It's still one of my favourite places.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWGoD9b_i5jBLi1tCDslR3YO1hYyUjLIGQIksX80fptiuHK9fZIkMtVnav7r_XrVWzCgtfN_iFaboo71Jmhux6evdyBVlYMCi2Lzkgpq4gERZ7coOG3DXtEKq8UNVg8eZlrlDZ6NkOrooP/s1600-h/hereford1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWGoD9b_i5jBLi1tCDslR3YO1hYyUjLIGQIksX80fptiuHK9fZIkMtVnav7r_XrVWzCgtfN_iFaboo71Jmhux6evdyBVlYMCi2Lzkgpq4gERZ7coOG3DXtEKq8UNVg8eZlrlDZ6NkOrooP/s320/hereford1.jpg" /></a></div>I haven't been to Hereford for sometime, and it was only when I was outside the cathedral that I realised that Dad was alive last time I was here, and I sent him a postcard. Yesterday was farmers' market day and the centre of town was buzzing. Sad to see though that Chad's, the department store, has fallen to the recession. It was a lovely, old fashioned shop. Now, of course, part of it is a pound store. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaqjdkp1kNt09iURsto6DUnSChpAlkeAEp20mYnw4EoPgSaa1w-YAXAGLoeNlKr8fmQMCfXbAeXAsmocFpErW1l-MZIaTTpDymKNC7lVFRf_ehmTdlhO7LH5XNd5YgxJFbhuAhveHQ2p-5/s1600-h/hereford2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaqjdkp1kNt09iURsto6DUnSChpAlkeAEp20mYnw4EoPgSaa1w-YAXAGLoeNlKr8fmQMCfXbAeXAsmocFpErW1l-MZIaTTpDymKNC7lVFRf_ehmTdlhO7LH5XNd5YgxJFbhuAhveHQ2p-5/s320/hereford2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Lots of other shops have gone too, but the farmers' market seemed to be doing good business. In Hereford, it's only right to buy orchard fruit, and I bought some lucsious conference pears.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6e-F-LTRMR3zyb002lgl3jKvL3-loRVbxoBvsga2O5-pNoRS7FQreAIMhfMqWl6amZJr6C7iHJTcv4xtxd8qFtPRxO76DiE9XJGyIwubUg4n7xkWarRlUb14-vJHO3PscDBH52eRmQ0Sc/s1600-h/hereford3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6e-F-LTRMR3zyb002lgl3jKvL3-loRVbxoBvsga2O5-pNoRS7FQreAIMhfMqWl6amZJr6C7iHJTcv4xtxd8qFtPRxO76DiE9XJGyIwubUg4n7xkWarRlUb14-vJHO3PscDBH52eRmQ0Sc/s320/hereford3.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Next to the fruit lady were these cheery souls from the <a href="http://www.pencombevillagebakery.co.uk/bakery/Welcome.html">Pencombe Village Bakery</a>. They haven't been open long, and they're based near Bromyard. Just been nosing at the website and discovered that they do a bread making course. Hmmm. One for the future.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOzfjwcyO8zRY5-2rdG04mhgukaUbZLA6FfGudCfle29Y2nHsWp43QEOrPk8iEhCqW596bBwaSdD-WYRHPigRAkaDqBOwwmdGY8hW-3Gwt51PqXV6Qnxvy4dBdrTDlMZSX1wh2YcPmcfIH/s1600-h/hereford4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOzfjwcyO8zRY5-2rdG04mhgukaUbZLA6FfGudCfle29Y2nHsWp43QEOrPk8iEhCqW596bBwaSdD-WYRHPigRAkaDqBOwwmdGY8hW-3Gwt51PqXV6Qnxvy4dBdrTDlMZSX1wh2YcPmcfIH/s320/hereford4.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The bread looked lovely, so I bagged a sourdough. I hope they have great success - and are at the market next time I'm back.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAtY1i6GNwa5STmzwAZAlSS5rXyq6mQ57-ofZCw6_-uNQJ-xjR1t52fqlpA1ndUAZcvbXvEGTDREsTCQTExmu1yoBvhdhpzbkehq-0YwtNWLAE8glsv8_MWT4-cJRZu0hiejGltQwG8w5U/s1600-h/hereford5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAtY1i6GNwa5STmzwAZAlSS5rXyq6mQ57-ofZCw6_-uNQJ-xjR1t52fqlpA1ndUAZcvbXvEGTDREsTCQTExmu1yoBvhdhpzbkehq-0YwtNWLAE8glsv8_MWT4-cJRZu0hiejGltQwG8w5U/s320/hereford5.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One fixture of this farmers' market is the lady who helps owls - normally featuring one of the birds in person.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfBAMyiJD9Nd5v2xJpluv5TFKU4zl3TPCBCqceavkp8GrFXWJxHzLKYjib-_kChyNHkK0wxkVl8zy4Yn71u87t8EDNibv7HphFdjgsYPYKZvjtO8VggBrVK0JI7Xt-I1ocIuJNbSlYO8vU/s1600-h/hereford6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfBAMyiJD9Nd5v2xJpluv5TFKU4zl3TPCBCqceavkp8GrFXWJxHzLKYjib-_kChyNHkK0wxkVl8zy4Yn71u87t8EDNibv7HphFdjgsYPYKZvjtO8VggBrVK0JI7Xt-I1ocIuJNbSlYO8vU/s320/hereford6.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This little chap was with her, keeping a beady eye on shoppers. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA7WX6ZUH1MupVLi0jJiBeQU6yoEzLFwj1HVDlomtp7MnI26j-VfJRZwi3f95rNEmk_0nyFRVEyfSr-VryPnp_9Fxzcwp-R0o3xHgdPZ97XJ3QM7R1dWjd_EhYQc2DohlN2LZg-xAWfPKi/s1600-h/hereford7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA7WX6ZUH1MupVLi0jJiBeQU6yoEzLFwj1HVDlomtp7MnI26j-VfJRZwi3f95rNEmk_0nyFRVEyfSr-VryPnp_9Fxzcwp-R0o3xHgdPZ97XJ3QM7R1dWjd_EhYQc2DohlN2LZg-xAWfPKi/s320/hereford7.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was really disappointed on my last visit not to see the <a href="http://www.handmadescotcheggs.co.uk/">Handmade Scotch Egg company</a>, perveyors of one of my favourite snacks. So I was delighted to see them in residence yesterday. They make heaven knows how many different varieties, most meaty but some veggie. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIV80tCvhSdGcajLn-VPaJeYG15dr8Touo0IcnYPqn2KCE6zbxjgqOz2TiWByAoqxPa-qm914PXw0dDeBPwhqUcNMlhxN8tuhl_K64oTgEVfgSFOlZurJVHNZmfIqHS_WVxkdNC4GxLZEs/s1600-h/hereford8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIV80tCvhSdGcajLn-VPaJeYG15dr8Touo0IcnYPqn2KCE6zbxjgqOz2TiWByAoqxPa-qm914PXw0dDeBPwhqUcNMlhxN8tuhl_K64oTgEVfgSFOlZurJVHNZmfIqHS_WVxkdNC4GxLZEs/s320/hereford8.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After much deliberation, I choose a classic, a scrumpy, a colonel (with beer mustard) and a vegetarian Worcester, made with cheese and Worcester sauce. I devoured the classic for lunch, and it's the only commercial scotch egg I've eaten that's as good as homemade. They do mail order, which is a tempting possiblity.</div><div align="center"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsNQxjpgvXNLnROQrUMWkoe_D7vfz8FKdFqLfOjdMvJy90UkY-V8VXWRlPuHDvzwTcV4uIZAscKlCRnllr7Zul1KH27zECI_pN9Il_mJyApZWfk6XmFRF8QLZAKXKTAFQJqoC2F66LgOv/s1600-h/hereford9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsNQxjpgvXNLnROQrUMWkoe_D7vfz8FKdFqLfOjdMvJy90UkY-V8VXWRlPuHDvzwTcV4uIZAscKlCRnllr7Zul1KH27zECI_pN9Il_mJyApZWfk6XmFRF8QLZAKXKTAFQJqoC2F66LgOv/s320/hereford9.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Next stop was halfway up Church Street: the excellent <a href="http://mousetrapcheese.streamlinenettrial.co.uk/">Mousetrap cheese shop</a>. Inside, a family was selecting which cheeses to go in a wedding day cheese pillar - the cheeselover's alternative to the wedding cake. There was much munching and testing. I couldn't resist a hunk of Beenleigh Blue and a good slice of the shop's own cheese, Little Hereford. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTMrV3I5nT8XXmoq_JEcUv_ZIUWSM9DUIQN6UHjRN0bgxjEhX4ZOxYD3qkXGuwddBqb1MMp9rnU-FZo2LInv13Oz-mcUYld1hJvufjYAWsSk7uL2AhnNAzmVyOEmFTgMxCyg3ymRZqRxg9/s1600-h/hereford10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTMrV3I5nT8XXmoq_JEcUv_ZIUWSM9DUIQN6UHjRN0bgxjEhX4ZOxYD3qkXGuwddBqb1MMp9rnU-FZo2LInv13Oz-mcUYld1hJvufjYAWsSk7uL2AhnNAzmVyOEmFTgMxCyg3ymRZqRxg9/s320/hereford10.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Little Hereford is a creamy cheese with an almost grassy finish - nice. Food shopping done, it was time to visit the cathedral. I love Hereford cathedral. It's not grand like Canterbury or beautiful like Ely or Durham or even a patron of modern art like Chichester. But it's small and interesting and full of enchanting things, like these piggies snuffling for acorns on the tomb of John Swinfield, complete with their Hereford cathedral jackets.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3DxQ1_ZUoElYSeOt3GhxlmR7o662RrD4bidYIYnXuRqHbcieYm_kcmBsNvMNWT12iZD7S0eRNoR6G-MR0PzkwNzSi8VhnWkqlieAzZkR_T0vKQEgOvkD0BnHTYCT48n_2E3AvmyfV00vc/s1600-h/hereford11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3DxQ1_ZUoElYSeOt3GhxlmR7o662RrD4bidYIYnXuRqHbcieYm_kcmBsNvMNWT12iZD7S0eRNoR6G-MR0PzkwNzSi8VhnWkqlieAzZkR_T0vKQEgOvkD0BnHTYCT48n_2E3AvmyfV00vc/s320/hereford11.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A couple of additions since my last visit hints that Hereford might, after all, be going down the Chichester route. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhejQpK6pZ0k00Gt6Ejkse2kOPCS7c1VaJOoudNsu6G90FNw4d0FTbzXyg9-gugwoRBVQbumsrSvNSCA5s5OfyI8tQERw-RGzQ6yVARk-KwPLT-83Ng0SjV5P7fWYoDrJjkpWDxI_2gfqpp/s1600-h/hereford12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhejQpK6pZ0k00Gt6Ejkse2kOPCS7c1VaJOoudNsu6G90FNw4d0FTbzXyg9-gugwoRBVQbumsrSvNSCA5s5OfyI8tQERw-RGzQ6yVARk-KwPLT-83Ng0SjV5P7fWYoDrJjkpWDxI_2gfqpp/s320/hereford12.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">These wonderful windows, in the chantry off the lady chapel, are by Tom Denny and commemorate Herefordshire's own mystic, Thomas Traherne. There are four windows in all, glowing with colour and detail. There's more info about them <a href="http://www.herefordcathedral.org/worship/pilgrimage-information">here</a>. It's worth visiting the cathedral for the windows alone, but there's another new thing that I liked very much.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYLXmYHGivqOxTJ0AkHX1kGPTRWGfCP0XlKT0jgTKyKjO-NjGzFg6QcOzdHDyNSb0lSITQZsfGyN6UJAkGuA2oNKyi29U-lwOJDI9joxzy34nWYBrZ9QxIKhk_ChKywN0lOwRBH1K00cCb/s1600-h/hereford13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYLXmYHGivqOxTJ0AkHX1kGPTRWGfCP0XlKT0jgTKyKjO-NjGzFg6QcOzdHDyNSb0lSITQZsfGyN6UJAkGuA2oNKyi29U-lwOJDI9joxzy34nWYBrZ9QxIKhk_ChKywN0lOwRBH1K00cCb/s320/hereford13.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is the recently completed cover to the tomb of St Thomas of Hereford, who got excommunicated when he was bishop and went over to Rome to argue his case. He got back into the church, but died on the way home. After he was buried at the cathedral, miracles were reported, and in the 17th century his bones were used to ward of plague in the city. No record of how effective that was, but probably a good deal cheaper than Tamiflu.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilZhmt0o8mKAJqIkwZSkP_d8z-fJxOYDS4qvmlU7Z0LCVa1AGWaCUp4-4cugfMfE2Dqh4-bgOz1QJgseWp-Jfo0g7j9hegSPJKFja1OeBQMIXDn_VjpXEyxiTwM4PJntOqIdyZp5Q1dlbh/s1600-h/hereford14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilZhmt0o8mKAJqIkwZSkP_d8z-fJxOYDS4qvmlU7Z0LCVa1AGWaCUp4-4cugfMfE2Dqh4-bgOz1QJgseWp-Jfo0g7j9hegSPJKFja1OeBQMIXDn_VjpXEyxiTwM4PJntOqIdyZp5Q1dlbh/s320/hereford14.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">On the front end of the shrine cover, angels are holding up the Mappa Mundi, the cathedral's most famous possesion.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I wandered back into town, dropping in to see jeweller Mike Gell, whose shop in East Street is another of my favourite Hereford places. Then, with a full rucksack and happy tum, I headed back to the station. I hope when I'm back that this lovely city is as thriving as it used to be.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN2mD3TrIuua2NjLf_T0TeapCsKkhBQw-s-xQOWN8MhbV-Dzkg9pvCkBqURL7bHnyh3_xnniYsbDL8nL598P_YxI-jK3iHbkiwOIAVfmbPJ3Ww_Er7JjTjMrYvZV6cz5xxmnS-dwJcKY8l/s1600-h/hereford15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN2mD3TrIuua2NjLf_T0TeapCsKkhBQw-s-xQOWN8MhbV-Dzkg9pvCkBqURL7bHnyh3_xnniYsbDL8nL598P_YxI-jK3iHbkiwOIAVfmbPJ3Ww_Er7JjTjMrYvZV6cz5xxmnS-dwJcKY8l/s320/hereford15.jpg" /></a></div></div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-61172232514775813352010-02-04T20:14:00.001+00:002010-02-04T20:23:23.279+00:00Two soothing suppers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw7HAT0vsHGlEF1cE5XrwKrYM2oo7aWb9zusPnHgnAtmAvh7i1vz1Ml-5DNKdLa2pURZzJKpCgXWcA_5qzGnogOzyBJgaoiGeVOOHt52zzQMmtlc7d7wUuvDbS3NhaJMHEe2UvoFbBc9EW/s1600-h/cheese1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw7HAT0vsHGlEF1cE5XrwKrYM2oo7aWb9zusPnHgnAtmAvh7i1vz1Ml-5DNKdLa2pURZzJKpCgXWcA_5qzGnogOzyBJgaoiGeVOOHt52zzQMmtlc7d7wUuvDbS3NhaJMHEe2UvoFbBc9EW/s320/cheese1.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I know that for some, the sprout is the work of the devil. Me, I love them. And as the evenings begin to lighten, I know they're not going to be around for a whole lot longer, so I bagged a few at the weekend. Last night I felt like some comfort food, so after a nose in the fridge, I came up with a <strong>Cheesey Sprout Squeak</strong> for supper.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQHKt5lBdAqMmDZDrMWxFhJxktHEUKCoZpGIS0uvCBkprvvuNoWfgp0WYDq_8pr4SnRglD4-08Vh6eIYo15QH-e3l9JtneUCjnC-TEopmiM6l4xrnEKoa3OV6Ema6HS8cfYaxbIlH7p2Cx/s1600-h/cheese2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQHKt5lBdAqMmDZDrMWxFhJxktHEUKCoZpGIS0uvCBkprvvuNoWfgp0WYDq_8pr4SnRglD4-08Vh6eIYo15QH-e3l9JtneUCjnC-TEopmiM6l4xrnEKoa3OV6Ema6HS8cfYaxbIlH7p2Cx/s320/cheese2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">First, select your brassicas: a few sprouts and some shredded spring greens was what I had to hand. For mash, I boiled some potatoes with chunks of swede. Then I pushed them through my trusty potato ricer and added a grating of nutmeg and a dollop of butter. While the roots were cooking, I grated a good handful of Keen's chedder. And put the sprouts on to boil, adding the spring greens when the sprouts were nearly done. Once they're drained, they joined the mash.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhutjRanZOgwGOvJdGqwk12cQ8v7b-981ZwmMkTUSm4AlWM7Y5HNUTDsnXfdie35s6yf4q-Gxui9X-EdGvi_07GfL3801HUqacbvFoJkW86j0skIispQ9SBzYYd1O6Eco1qKsbKfsvr2erc/s1600-h/cheese3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhutjRanZOgwGOvJdGqwk12cQ8v7b-981ZwmMkTUSm4AlWM7Y5HNUTDsnXfdie35s6yf4q-Gxui9X-EdGvi_07GfL3801HUqacbvFoJkW86j0skIispQ9SBzYYd1O6Eco1qKsbKfsvr2erc/s320/cheese3.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was being really lazy with the cheese sauce - just a tub of single cream brought to the boil, taken off the heat and the cheese stirred in. Lazy but effective. A hard-boiled egg is another thing I love, and a good companion to squeak and cheese sauce. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0DOiIwIrez_fJD2MKYpC8SGmszyiyW1Hgv2FYy6tutzWOYqtq4uYrWftHhs2G_lOcsldsBCMbcO9d_UEpeXo18MTU8AVTWeqZnYLPWwHCIkFJOYv_jGNft8Q5T90XSzNXYMF-pYXeayxo/s1600-h/cheese4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0DOiIwIrez_fJD2MKYpC8SGmszyiyW1Hgv2FYy6tutzWOYqtq4uYrWftHhs2G_lOcsldsBCMbcO9d_UEpeXo18MTU8AVTWeqZnYLPWwHCIkFJOYv_jGNft8Q5T90XSzNXYMF-pYXeayxo/s320/cheese4.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The egg nestled into the squeak, ready for the cheesey topping. Over goes the sauce and into an oven, gas mark 5, for 20 minutes or so.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ5lxWm7nXRKhMM85WsIE72ojP9SB4-O-29dIPvfl7wnQefBkzccpopC8_bEezB3w_hxiM9DNUR0H0I45SKivwB_2iR808pWrtUJtYm7xaJlKZkiP5zp4WOxNS42HB-NDeoDJ2nj67Z-nQ/s1600-h/cheese5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ5lxWm7nXRKhMM85WsIE72ojP9SB4-O-29dIPvfl7wnQefBkzccpopC8_bEezB3w_hxiM9DNUR0H0I45SKivwB_2iR808pWrtUJtYm7xaJlKZkiP5zp4WOxNS42HB-NDeoDJ2nj67Z-nQ/s320/cheese5.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then out of the oven for a soothing plateful.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwfmIRB_IIWl3aI5yhxm537OmblFMaBlPILa2wszO-JwezuhMguKGP97ogh38cyB_JKu4NfHTqq2th8VWjvx56d53gOnbJQN_B5hURuvSw9YjDGLNqkQA5ITDvjclTxVefjjzoXdikI1eM/s1600-h/cheese6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwfmIRB_IIWl3aI5yhxm537OmblFMaBlPILa2wszO-JwezuhMguKGP97ogh38cyB_JKu4NfHTqq2th8VWjvx56d53gOnbJQN_B5hURuvSw9YjDGLNqkQA5ITDvjclTxVefjjzoXdikI1eM/s320/cheese6.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'd made more mash than I need on purpose: tonight's supper is a variation on Lindsey Bareham's matar aloo tikki from <em>In Praise of the Potato,</em> a wonderful book.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijKNVkbyPsYD6eGyMAh-FVIhhtK8atDUo4axie_o2EwMAKfbf7aOdMvlYQR5YrLyxymt0mdvLbB8X_ydkVjqtUOvMszCjU8RTdC5Tzq5xwmRDQHUBSHS5vyWSGPWKbCmBzRNfgAxLkQHoV/s1600-h/cheese7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijKNVkbyPsYD6eGyMAh-FVIhhtK8atDUo4axie_o2EwMAKfbf7aOdMvlYQR5YrLyxymt0mdvLbB8X_ydkVjqtUOvMszCjU8RTdC5Tzq5xwmRDQHUBSHS5vyWSGPWKbCmBzRNfgAxLkQHoV/s320/cheese7.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Add a couple of desert spoonfuls of plain flour to the mash and fork in to combine. In a frying pan, heat a little groundnut oil or ghee and add:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">something alliumy - about half a shredded leek or a couple of chopped spring onions</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">110g frozen peas</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2 tbs dessicated coconut</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1/2 tsp chilli powder (more if you like it hot)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1/2 tsp turmeric</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1/2 tsp garum masala</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1/2 tsp paprika</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When this has cooked for around five minutes, take it off the heat and add the juice of a lemon and some chopped coriander leaves. Now you can go two ways: either add the pea mixture to the mash and mix to combine, or, more daringly, take the mash and shape it into an egg-shaped ball. Poke a hole into the ball and carefully spoon in the pea mix. I took the lazy route again, and just made my mash/pea mix into rissole shapes, then turned them in semolina to coat.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGHd4Pxeh26dfOzDR1JzIhXEZ1CxM3eLdI19ZtwE5BZY3ZcGa63Wf-ojGboLgMFKVHZF6PX-lTA2dW3Lqh3P286A-3SdwJYFtIbBbcTq3V1S4gnkVAQXyOsPMWewp2qYG8mJ_8kUlZLc2/s1600-h/cheese8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGHd4Pxeh26dfOzDR1JzIhXEZ1CxM3eLdI19ZtwE5BZY3ZcGa63Wf-ojGboLgMFKVHZF6PX-lTA2dW3Lqh3P286A-3SdwJYFtIbBbcTq3V1S4gnkVAQXyOsPMWewp2qYG8mJ_8kUlZLc2/s320/cheese8.jpg" /></a></div>And now they're sitting downstairs, waiting to be fried very gently until they're golden brown. I'll be serving them with a caraway slaw and date and tamarind chutney. Winter wear for the stomach.franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-62295780445496777572010-01-31T10:28:00.000+00:002010-01-31T10:28:03.084+00:00A splendid root pie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQUtNmYt6c9tryVhwB2Rml2CrjsYOof5g6F6Rwu7MK6SuqI9iplA8j2jgFzPht3labdHUsMVjcsEUzlz0LvOuAgiq1oIWQJ8hYFSNQSjGpAKo2-oamTp3RSXM52CD_b-amPv8AN5UEcPjA/s1600-h/pie001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQUtNmYt6c9tryVhwB2Rml2CrjsYOof5g6F6Rwu7MK6SuqI9iplA8j2jgFzPht3labdHUsMVjcsEUzlz0LvOuAgiq1oIWQJ8hYFSNQSjGpAKo2-oamTp3RSXM52CD_b-amPv8AN5UEcPjA/s320/pie001.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A couple of weekends ago, I defrosted the freezer. At first, it was pure embarassment - huge chunks of ice fell from the sides and I needed copious amounts of Lakeland defrosting stuff to gently release the drawer that hasn't opened properly for months. But then it was pure joy as I put all the food back into baskets that now slid easily open and a top cabinet that seemed vast after I'd removed the iceberg inside. Attention turned to the bottom of the fridge where there's been a build-up of root veg. I loved the look of a Denis Cotter recipe for a Moroccan spiced root veg pie - this is my adaptation based on what was knocking around in the kitchen. It really is gorgeous.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYc7SuGIVXnGsszmO9AI4WsR7UxIfW47pl-am0efoeoqp-51LNn6BRLH4-YG3oGLbXQG-iDOmDPddAHxEiSsNXn9J6TXK4plaDEoe1igMJEaSS9wdYz3yBtV4sFesy105nMpSbX9TEsD-g/s1600-h/pie1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYc7SuGIVXnGsszmO9AI4WsR7UxIfW47pl-am0efoeoqp-51LNn6BRLH4-YG3oGLbXQG-iDOmDPddAHxEiSsNXn9J6TXK4plaDEoe1igMJEaSS9wdYz3yBtV4sFesy105nMpSbX9TEsD-g/s320/pie1.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><strong>Spiced root veg pie</strong> (adapted from Denis Cotter's Cafe Paridiso Cookbook)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">400g root veg - I used two fat carrots, a parsnip and half a celeriac</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">200g peas </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">4 shallots</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">4 cloves garlic</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2 tsp black mustard seeds (which I misread and ended up with 2 tbs in the pan - not a problem as I love mustard seeds)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The spice mix: 1 dried chilli, 6 cloves, 2 tsp coriander seeds, 1 star anise, all ground, plus 1/4 tsp cinnamon, several gratings of nutmeg, 1/2 tsp turmeric</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">150 ml tub single cream</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1/2 tsp salt</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">zest of an orange</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">100g almonds, toasted and roughly chopped</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1 egg yolk</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">filo pastry</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">100g melted butter</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiICwCv-RoY8_fYWTmX6xp_T0ANbehXJQ1qrjx14aOLwpcs2Lon5z2nWAZ5qHIw1dbYLNfykpEwSN0gRRmdPaDDY2LBdPMGoCXulzkvthzByIEbwijoobR68S2vHEWrcV7s7PkLoCENsg4k/s1600-h/pie2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiICwCv-RoY8_fYWTmX6xp_T0ANbehXJQ1qrjx14aOLwpcs2Lon5z2nWAZ5qHIw1dbYLNfykpEwSN0gRRmdPaDDY2LBdPMGoCXulzkvthzByIEbwijoobR68S2vHEWrcV7s7PkLoCENsg4k/s320/pie2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Chop your roots into small dice and boil them for a few minutes until they're just tender; add the peas and cook for another couple of minutes. Drain and put in them in a large bowl. Fry the shallots and garlic in a little groundnut oil. Add the mustard seeds, then a couple of minutes later, the other spices. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ-xTG0gnFfbk2dBTwQx9cIlumNy3ibcWfmMkX_BWmYM5r1GIdNTuZub0pVukIWixmibP0Gw04DlXN7bXpfzlaHS04BJuQa4Ukmg3mJwNjhqGunzIGYF3l5quM3gSg0IsRd-MsdaqC6yTG/s1600-h/pie3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ-xTG0gnFfbk2dBTwQx9cIlumNy3ibcWfmMkX_BWmYM5r1GIdNTuZub0pVukIWixmibP0Gw04DlXN7bXpfzlaHS04BJuQa4Ukmg3mJwNjhqGunzIGYF3l5quM3gSg0IsRd-MsdaqC6yTG/s320/pie3.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After a minute, add the cream, salt and zest and cook for another couple of minutes. Pour the spiced cream over the roots and mix in gently with a spoon. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZZM9MT5BsnkDNcp3sWrEnM1aft_Dp9jQR5HchsFBAPtye79EcHgGhsUojAoo7UBpUGX42h32m0u1DyVGLEiVfBzqoIat_4TcRzdx1frJLFm3RgllXNh5MVNQsKtPwD7WeotF7Sr6eNJXn/s1600-h/pie4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZZM9MT5BsnkDNcp3sWrEnM1aft_Dp9jQR5HchsFBAPtye79EcHgGhsUojAoo7UBpUGX42h32m0u1DyVGLEiVfBzqoIat_4TcRzdx1frJLFm3RgllXNh5MVNQsKtPwD7WeotF7Sr6eNJXn/s320/pie4.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When the mixture has cooled down, add the almonds and the egg yolk.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg944MRR5aVOVIZtFC5FhjPCNxkiqdQa-ykAFFBmHraIzAwCdtLPqcD0Pm0vr_5D_yf0KHhNohtRjqwUGlY1kXxZXJnD5hGn3-xXgBXdQwRchz28sUWnIOaCXCA8RB7bW4wnj09XMIJuNIx/s1600-h/pie5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg944MRR5aVOVIZtFC5FhjPCNxkiqdQa-ykAFFBmHraIzAwCdtLPqcD0Pm0vr_5D_yf0KHhNohtRjqwUGlY1kXxZXJnD5hGn3-xXgBXdQwRchz28sUWnIOaCXCA8RB7bW4wnj09XMIJuNIx/s320/pie5.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now it's time to wrestle with the filo pastry. I couldn't find my usual Tottenham turkish brand, and ended up with a packet of frozed Jus-rol filo. The sheets of pastry were enormous and there wasn't a surface big enough to cope with them fully unfurled, so it was a bit of a juggling match. I used an old pie plate as a base but a flan tin or shallow cake tin would be just as good. Lay out a filo sheet on the plate and brush it with melted butter. Turn the tin by about 30 degrees and lay another sheet on top of the first. Brush with butter again. Continue adding and turning until you have an overlap of pastry that will enrobe your pie filling. Then pile the root mix onto the plate.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheM5Rafy8IV9Uz3EIwg5kUf_ortR2nHQJJBElXt-O_9KScXOTHfYhzLR98afJ-XKQVvTawTKeP-9L4rWJ0u9739jD8bsXvbyaUuGsU7F3idPGhNtnZIIzd58Awd6MOWGe68udfE-uL6xHN/s1600-h/pie6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheM5Rafy8IV9Uz3EIwg5kUf_ortR2nHQJJBElXt-O_9KScXOTHfYhzLR98afJ-XKQVvTawTKeP-9L4rWJ0u9739jD8bsXvbyaUuGsU7F3idPGhNtnZIIzd58Awd6MOWGe68udfE-uL6xHN/s320/pie6.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then fold the overlapping pastry back over the roots, brushing with butter as each layer covers the pie. Filo is brittle so you need to work quickly, but Jus-rol isn't quite as thin as my usual brand, so the folding is less fraught. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bake at gas mark 5 for around 30-40 mins - it's ready when the pastry is golden.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGSpaoxjoprSwGYCJSezUcX6vk7fOH50qKqty4Y9VAKSEl6G32bObfGUjgWwkc2Fg1En0Tu6sjUQUJoej_7crfdhFUfwN6KpxaEd1D96Ey8CIbBXPTs6x2LhRNExKrmJWdxQhh7NVVhMg/s1600-h/pie7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGSpaoxjoprSwGYCJSezUcX6vk7fOH50qKqty4Y9VAKSEl6G32bObfGUjgWwkc2Fg1En0Tu6sjUQUJoej_7crfdhFUfwN6KpxaEd1D96Ey8CIbBXPTs6x2LhRNExKrmJWdxQhh7NVVhMg/s320/pie7.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I followed Denis's advice and served the pie with couscous and a yoghurty-minty-cucumber sauce. The pie tastes superb: comfortingly rooty with warming spicey tones. The filling would make a lovely pasty filling, or a base for a veggy sheperd's pie. Or a side dish...</div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-75010062517952369212010-01-27T20:23:00.000+00:002010-01-27T20:23:18.229+00:00The pleasure of baking<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq5Grv5CW1RDzqBdwIDbgTxMroAVXWRhykXGpuT7HtHvL5vy3XCK856gTNHS4jOzFNfnraSiJghtDWhuW-E5CWU70y6oGg5_Vh5e1LtaX_flmvEEPDgmQtDcEpp9h5enmBaCgRNeUOXRqV/s1600-h/cake1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="306" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq5Grv5CW1RDzqBdwIDbgTxMroAVXWRhykXGpuT7HtHvL5vy3XCK856gTNHS4jOzFNfnraSiJghtDWhuW-E5CWU70y6oGg5_Vh5e1LtaX_flmvEEPDgmQtDcEpp9h5enmBaCgRNeUOXRqV/s400/cake1.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Last night the baking mood descended on me, and a recipe I've had my eye on for quite a while is Nigel Slater's chocolate and beetroot cake from <em>Tender</em>, his luscious ode to vegetables. I had the cooked beets (foil wrapped and roasted in the oven a couple of nights ago), I had the choccy once I'd nipped out to the corner shop, and everything else was lurking in the baking section of the cupboard or in the fridge. The full recipe is <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/foodanddrink/recipes/6222618/Nigel-Slater-recipe-an-extremely-moist-chocolate-beetroot-cake-with-creme-fraiche-and-poppy-seeds.html">here</a>, and it's in February's <em>Delicious</em> mag too. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoPDvW2nClgkuLmWFUDNlllTbWaL0S9xHThd4N6pHfTDViGTCOHh9raxV35ImK11tPA3F9Ls1q-gpsejuTUAuSlJy1GJCugx3oIDQVItnUQQvdS-l6E7X-J1ODK3o6OIC31-z3hMxTiN6s/s1600-h/cake2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoPDvW2nClgkuLmWFUDNlllTbWaL0S9xHThd4N6pHfTDViGTCOHh9raxV35ImK11tPA3F9Ls1q-gpsejuTUAuSlJy1GJCugx3oIDQVItnUQQvdS-l6E7X-J1ODK3o6OIC31-z3hMxTiN6s/s320/cake2.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I don't make cakes regularly so when the mood comes, I let it wash me along. The mood is part meditative and part furious concentration - the radio will be on but there will be times when I'm measuring that I'll blank out and miss if Annette has finally told Helen that it was Leon who put the bun in her oven...and then I'll have to listen to <em>The Archers</em> again on Sunday to find out. I need the mood to arrive because baking this kind of cake means there will be many bowls of different sizes perched all over the kitchen, filled with melted chocolate and butter and eggs and flour and beetroot and sugar - all of them needing to be washed later. When I'm in the baking mood I don't mind. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgdd6Z99uIKbqEtkRX1-bBwKHGcvHRvejwAuL6wOWPrJS3VDSN5UA1zf61LyJ06fO9gr6uJqcRufxp8eFftB_PXnCeb9rPGNtaG085fUde5Dt1xag2KqJfjLFO40GOtNUmrWM-ZmmjCpy/s1600-h/cake3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgdd6Z99uIKbqEtkRX1-bBwKHGcvHRvejwAuL6wOWPrJS3VDSN5UA1zf61LyJ06fO9gr6uJqcRufxp8eFftB_PXnCeb9rPGNtaG085fUde5Dt1xag2KqJfjLFO40GOtNUmrWM-ZmmjCpy/s320/cake3.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My first baking mood came when I was in my teens, and I spotted a recipe for Grantham ginger biscuits in one of my mother's cookery books. There were no pictures, and I was amazed by the perfect brown pillowy mounds that emerged from the oven, crisp and crunchy on the outside with slightly gooey innards. Baking is a bit of domestic magic. It's magic too how egg whites change from an unappetising clagginess to a whipped sensual cloud.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJQ38Kd-0bC3kdLXs0Sr53iOdNGj_2P6evzqXue289CkEY4hNC94nHGrh718TIIpQ3qGdM69U8IOHW2X1PeeqV5WR2He_-5kvCgiNXlPtrGVGdbJBNdzz1gSjv2_5_C37aeGa4FpikVIUJ/s1600-h/cake4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJQ38Kd-0bC3kdLXs0Sr53iOdNGj_2P6evzqXue289CkEY4hNC94nHGrh718TIIpQ3qGdM69U8IOHW2X1PeeqV5WR2He_-5kvCgiNXlPtrGVGdbJBNdzz1gSjv2_5_C37aeGa4FpikVIUJ/s320/cake4.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Out comes my favourite big metal spoon to fold everything together: this is where the meditative part of the mood comes in. With this cake, it takes a while to fold the choc/beet/butter/sugar/ mix into the flour and cocoa. And then the inner hooligan child clamours to lick the bowl. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2ddT6hBfemqZMvJlaXZpyW7XgJZlNnyPrNmzfQuVXfDx-U9YTJQO-4CUB4NVsEHNXcB1xPFBICGhRSGANEf1CfIiyzfrAPzg8Z1YXpWujJ7axOODaTqy5ln2HSCk3dyUwu2jfRA9rHt3/s1600-h/cake5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2ddT6hBfemqZMvJlaXZpyW7XgJZlNnyPrNmzfQuVXfDx-U9YTJQO-4CUB4NVsEHNXcB1xPFBICGhRSGANEf1CfIiyzfrAPzg8Z1YXpWujJ7axOODaTqy5ln2HSCk3dyUwu2jfRA9rHt3/s320/cake5.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then there's another familiar component of the baking mood: anxiety. Will the cake mix actually fit into the baking tin? Or has the bloody author not really tested the recipe and will I be left with (a) horrid stinky bits on the bottom of the oven or (b) a bin bag with sad remnants of uncooked stickiness? (Yes, Nigella, I'm looking at you.) No worries with Nigel: it's a perfect fit.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR2am2fucFzwyq-5zTvJObe0s3GdmT8V2e_3DWgMObQrwCvT9IegCg_MLqTT506tX0Drsuc86x_hyphenhyphenr2_ajogKPrragxa48j-oLu_B8d3yhun_S9iSjcznhHpxgPKIo8sl62zWYpoHasWag/s1600-h/cake6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR2am2fucFzwyq-5zTvJObe0s3GdmT8V2e_3DWgMObQrwCvT9IegCg_MLqTT506tX0Drsuc86x_hyphenhyphenr2_ajogKPrragxa48j-oLu_B8d3yhun_S9iSjcznhHpxgPKIo8sl62zWYpoHasWag/s320/cake6.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">His cooking times are perfect too. I left the cake in the tin until this morning, then took half the cake into work, where it was greeted with greedy anticipation. This is the culmination of the mood: bringing a gleam in the eye to the cake deprived. Guess the mystery ingrediant, I said. Sam got close with 'purple' but went off course with raspberry; Alex homed in on 'root vegetable' but then got side tracked with carrot. Celeriac, swede, turnip and squash all got a mention but beetroot raised many eyebrows. And soon the cake was gone. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2MLXsI0MpQw-9Pok-_Yrc8BMq-BukNYjGyGu_UdBbDUBFgDDbCIfq-a_HFw-4cLB9Fyy0vwD7fqJyZZob2KzN2yGbKsog9t9Zl_nahxvNgRtgKBwOe8h-wumpo4YjE5j4FZnEMfTuOx8s/s1600-h/cake7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2MLXsI0MpQw-9Pok-_Yrc8BMq-BukNYjGyGu_UdBbDUBFgDDbCIfq-a_HFw-4cLB9Fyy0vwD7fqJyZZob2KzN2yGbKsog9t9Zl_nahxvNgRtgKBwOe8h-wumpo4YjE5j4FZnEMfTuOx8s/s400/cake7.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Henri tweeted me in the morning to say she had a recipe for parsnip and walnut cake - that's for the next baking mood.<br />
</div><div align="left"><br />
</div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-41720346784650807752010-01-25T17:22:00.000+00:002010-01-25T17:22:26.884+00:00Red hot chilli<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaELgibUR6OpLbn96SrCO5P4I2hQ5lhmygOLZbw6x1PvBtfytAKIeWzom0pTRDfEncqNgMF0u73_saxOVb_nV6PAQEERPQByiz8WnqD16hvPzkmQs-p5fjvHK7_0xklaDT-33mOJ8Tkc8s/s1600-h/chilli1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaELgibUR6OpLbn96SrCO5P4I2hQ5lhmygOLZbw6x1PvBtfytAKIeWzom0pTRDfEncqNgMF0u73_saxOVb_nV6PAQEERPQByiz8WnqD16hvPzkmQs-p5fjvHK7_0xklaDT-33mOJ8Tkc8s/s320/chilli1.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Chilli is one of those dishes I've been cooking as long as I can remember; well, at least since student days in York, a hundred years ago. In those days, it was a fairly simple affair of meat, onions, tomatoes and chilli powder, although I do remember going through a caraway seed phase at one point. Newly inspired by my <em>Pioneer Woman Cooks</em> book, I made one at the weekend, although I departed from her recipe quite a bit. There's a bit of a nod to Mexico with the addition of some cocoa powder, and on a trip to the splendid Spice Shop (opposite Books for Cooks in west London) I stocked up on dried chipotle peppers, so I bunged a couple of those in as well. I was well pleased with the result: it's good and rich with a spicy kick.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNPKmEYUP9UGeAsxbL40_TE_KLqvcbcEEzBS6nt7LzO61q_dPZef5XrOUgRgTlPNgiqkNcxGLmmYXQz8H1QV2xDQ34m4wunNkvFr5SZ0cn-2Fep4YqenFuJkqGf0cBiwd3lBxL6zQZD8h4/s1600-h/chilli2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNPKmEYUP9UGeAsxbL40_TE_KLqvcbcEEzBS6nt7LzO61q_dPZef5XrOUgRgTlPNgiqkNcxGLmmYXQz8H1QV2xDQ34m4wunNkvFr5SZ0cn-2Fep4YqenFuJkqGf0cBiwd3lBxL6zQZD8h4/s320/chilli2.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><strong>My chilli</strong><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">500g minced beef<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1 chopped onion<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">half a diced red pepper<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">400g tin of chopped tomatoes<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1/2 tsp oregano<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1 tsp cumin powder<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2 tsp chilli powder<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1 tsp good cocoa powder<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2 dried chipotle chillis<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A good splash of chipotle and jalapeno chilli sauces<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">400g tins of black beans and red kidney beans<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Fry off the onions then add the mince to brown. Add salt to taste. Stir in the tomatoes and pepper, then combine with all the spicy stuff. Simmer for an hour, then about 20 mins before serving, add the beans (which you've strained and washed of the gunky stuff in the tin). <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm very fond of black beans and on Saturday I spotted a tin of them in the Carribean section of Tesco's - normally I soak the dried ones overnight but it was a lazy weekend.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXDnYIMeLZGcJno2I0Pb0WGZ9XQspFd0y3pr1L5jp0bqje2vEl55ErHVHYadmQyn_TnY5qlagCNA2Xe0Vb1Oe2RT6oav5AUy1JCWcd1c4KZ5-F1miNHj9AuLv_og9Et95cogDFk21NTuE/s1600-h/chilli3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXDnYIMeLZGcJno2I0Pb0WGZ9XQspFd0y3pr1L5jp0bqje2vEl55ErHVHYadmQyn_TnY5qlagCNA2Xe0Vb1Oe2RT6oav5AUy1JCWcd1c4KZ5-F1miNHj9AuLv_og9Et95cogDFk21NTuE/s320/chilli3.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I served up with some coleslaw and rice cooked off in some summer allotment tomato sauce from the freezer and a handful of chopped coriander. A great winter supper. <br />
</div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-58260033909097906762010-01-18T19:53:00.000+00:002010-01-18T19:53:48.388+00:00The wonders of Washington 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dFmQoISLU5B0wZCq8-TyftpYEJ_dZwrKxvnvSiRlOznn9esMarHvI3XXVUGiq7NIpmvFJqC6xqxrg3BZd2Nu-ZU2tzX5P61UNg5MLY07lMM3lvih5IFhbUWtAIy4ntTaAndFy6xSIaUX/s1600-h/ree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dFmQoISLU5B0wZCq8-TyftpYEJ_dZwrKxvnvSiRlOznn9esMarHvI3XXVUGiq7NIpmvFJqC6xqxrg3BZd2Nu-ZU2tzX5P61UNg5MLY07lMM3lvih5IFhbUWtAIy4ntTaAndFy6xSIaUX/s320/ree.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My tramp round Washington included a search for a bookshop - I had directions to a Borders but didn't find it. Then all of a sudden, I stumbled across it when I wasn't expecting it. The one cookery book I wanted to buy in the US was Ree Drummond's <em>A Pioneer Woman Cooks</em>. I love her website and her story of city girl meets cowboy, falls in love and learns to cook meaty treats for her man and kids on their ranch in Oklahoma. I could have bought it from Amazon, but I wanted the vicarous thrill of buying an all-American cookbook in the US. There it was, in all its glory, so I scooped it up thankfully and began a leisurely browse of the large cookery section. No James Beard, but I did get Mark Bittman's big tome - I think it was the chapter on veggies that closed the deal.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijjQTv71pIfGzJuY5nRH_Qk7bFIRkqRIre5nC3PsozJwZOOKjep9crm7fBAGM7WR-3hvOkbC7uCoxisxBB4y_FB_x20tN4WyTC42XOvbSq7jvbg_ou6OIq6uqgD5bNqPZ9G1uUlUGIqxLM/s1600-h/us1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijjQTv71pIfGzJuY5nRH_Qk7bFIRkqRIre5nC3PsozJwZOOKjep9crm7fBAGM7WR-3hvOkbC7uCoxisxBB4y_FB_x20tN4WyTC42XOvbSq7jvbg_ou6OIq6uqgD5bNqPZ9G1uUlUGIqxLM/s320/us1.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Some things about Washington that I loved:<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">- the coffee: almost universally good (or at least better than the UK), and DC will now forever be associated with the taste of gingerbread latte, thanks to the good offices of Starbucks on a freezing Sunday morning<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">- American plumbing. It looks old fashioned and wieldy but one WHOOSH! and the bath is full.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">- the politeness. We're meant to be the polite types, but US courtesy seems genuinely meant. Not always the case here. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I've had a very lazy weekend, but did stir myself to whip up an American slaw, first made for President Obama's inaugeration dinner and now a firm favourite. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQQUghcXpIlOCgrd9N_A8WXmOS9_qn9bBXxMLkTL65zJcmKhGT9uh2VgLl9vKLw3-pdcQfI20QeaUc6doqt_s2V5VSRZ_tqvYmIitOFqEUUoW_FzY9LzzpO6lwECNNEQAJLts5eCT2F4C6/s1600-h/us2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQQUghcXpIlOCgrd9N_A8WXmOS9_qn9bBXxMLkTL65zJcmKhGT9uh2VgLl9vKLw3-pdcQfI20QeaUc6doqt_s2V5VSRZ_tqvYmIitOFqEUUoW_FzY9LzzpO6lwECNNEQAJLts5eCT2F4C6/s320/us2.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><strong>US Slaw</strong><br />
<br />
Equal quantities finely shredded white cabbage and grated carrot<br />
Half quantity of finely diced red pepper<br />
An equal mix of mayo (Hellmans is in the fridge) and greek yoghurt<br />
Your favourite vinegar - I used passion fruit vinegar from Fresh and Wild<br />
A handful of caraway seeds<br />
<br />
Simply mix your veg and toss with caraway seeds. In a seperate bowl, mix the mayo, yoghurt and a slurp of fruit vinegar. Combine. Serve with whatever you like and stash the remains in the fridge for your lunchbox.franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-20407662612337126012010-01-14T20:12:00.001+00:002010-01-15T14:55:32.901+00:00The wonders of Washington 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2AlmNPJ1D-BfdwwwOTJaCveSCila2lPU4xq2GkIY4PEkTa-t-x6KObaI1Nyqzxr_d_06MnU89urBOI1iaRCM384RQa9kStjkHYFpNxEKxgB8Y_SW4I9NiD2uLvS82VpQW_WKXwt12ms71/s1600-h/am5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2AlmNPJ1D-BfdwwwOTJaCveSCila2lPU4xq2GkIY4PEkTa-t-x6KObaI1Nyqzxr_d_06MnU89urBOI1iaRCM384RQa9kStjkHYFpNxEKxgB8Y_SW4I9NiD2uLvS82VpQW_WKXwt12ms71/s320/am5.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So there I am, sitting quietly in the office minding my own business when Alex says: Claire is running her social networking course in Washington next Monday - can you go and be her backstop? Hells teeth! I've never been to the US, my passport expired in July and I don't even have a suitcase capable of venturing outside Europe...sure I can go. Much scrabbling later (fast track passport: brilliant scheme that gives you a passport in four hours, online visa waiver, John Lewis sale half-price wheelie suitcase, pocket size guide to DC and Washington Post foodie guide) and I'm at Heathrow enduring the secondary security check that makes the flight an hour and a half late leaving...but no matter. On the plane I watch <em>Julie and Julia</em> (Eddie has recommended the Julia Child kitchen exhibit at the Smithsonian) and blag a veggie meal which isn't too bad. Then I'm on US soil for the first time, whizzing through immigration and out into the very cold Washington night. I stayed at the St Gregory hotel, and got a very friendly, typically American welcome. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">To unwind and gather my thoughts I headed for the bar and carefully eyed the beer on offer. I've never had a good impression of American beer, almost certainly fuelled by the fact the Budweiser once tried to sue the original, and very good, Bud for copyright of the name, even though Czech Bud was being brewed when John Adams was in short pants. I ordered an Amstel but the lovely bartender asked if I'm sure I didn't want to try something American. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHak9ucg09-DmV-fCvzKa0qWBpDXRsbaw6Uz0D11mz5d-9cEGKT7SuM0Ygr1hrAmjXsF_jUomMPXHxVxWSQ96WeP_6PGY4dZW64M97-uhw01tfApLByvfQbA8vYnH8Ad8jwh8rRGaps6gR/s1600-h/yuengling-lager.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHak9ucg09-DmV-fCvzKa0qWBpDXRsbaw6Uz0D11mz5d-9cEGKT7SuM0Ygr1hrAmjXsF_jUomMPXHxVxWSQ96WeP_6PGY4dZW64M97-uhw01tfApLByvfQbA8vYnH8Ad8jwh8rRGaps6gR/s320/yuengling-lager.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Yuengling beer was what she was on about - brewed in Pennsylvania. It's a golden malty beer, and after a couple of sips I was convinced. Every subsequant visit to the bar alerted the staff that a Yuengling was required. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Sunday was my one free day in Washington, so I set off early to get my bearings. After a few minutes heading south, I was at Washington circle, with a fine statue of the general who bested the English keeping watch. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRg4ez9hI2wU7vnUpbEAjrcz9rX_LCyN6ENWliaaBz-ZkBgFk3C7NRUNNVXk47HZY6mxzp0vHJhKWrIN095F4bLZM9R3WYmo7o-HP5SE9bI6TNLcVUeeFcSfhqjxbxqUbXJtVBXc7NAERN/s1600-h/am1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRg4ez9hI2wU7vnUpbEAjrcz9rX_LCyN6ENWliaaBz-ZkBgFk3C7NRUNNVXk47HZY6mxzp0vHJhKWrIN095F4bLZM9R3WYmo7o-HP5SE9bI6TNLcVUeeFcSfhqjxbxqUbXJtVBXc7NAERN/s320/am1.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then the sightseeing proper began. I headed down to the Washington monument then across the park, past a few foraging woodpeckers, to the Vietnam wall and this statue commemorating the work of women during the Vietnam war.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizoGS6UA2aWL3xurQkwBQGqK8SaRBOOo53Fs2JShtfadzWcp_1xwyXyptiyflnRR9a9LtxgUJeoeZYwpatqE_I3Mrebl0KDp-gNvpyqbsRxepRzXLdoDeR_tYVaMqkLrtAtWJyysd7domv/s1600-h/am3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizoGS6UA2aWL3xurQkwBQGqK8SaRBOOo53Fs2JShtfadzWcp_1xwyXyptiyflnRR9a9LtxgUJeoeZYwpatqE_I3Mrebl0KDp-gNvpyqbsRxepRzXLdoDeR_tYVaMqkLrtAtWJyysd7domv/s320/am3.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Just south of the wall is the Lincoln memorial. This was what I most wanted to see in Washington and I approached, half expecting to be disappointed by the reality. But the reality far outshone any images I've seen of it. It's huge, and cleverly built so that as you climb the steps, you don't see the statue of Lincoln. Only when you reach the top do you see that extraordinary seated figure.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5H4v421uhTl-A2ke9wsDfUFl4sr9DuMOY9Sv0T0jZP-oqDyf-9UFhXgo2qaPSDNOL1eYg6Vn9h7cKfeEaUaXze6oY4NlTYG0-PrIj3U5uIGHgGl9nkJj7O1QGRI3zeGkAjaVbu9xR0Cq0/s1600-h/am4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5H4v421uhTl-A2ke9wsDfUFl4sr9DuMOY9Sv0T0jZP-oqDyf-9UFhXgo2qaPSDNOL1eYg6Vn9h7cKfeEaUaXze6oY4NlTYG0-PrIj3U5uIGHgGl9nkJj7O1QGRI3zeGkAjaVbu9xR0Cq0/s320/am4.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ99udSxidKgT-TRJCrnT1jvLeYSI7jjtYWt_tGhtEroAKXaRc1QgQR1FEM9PcleufvghRTilBdlIyGrmalRMhOj13z-N74Yk72Q8cr-tP4tZcq8QSq49M7L6gqyWOW66VbOuaqH-cHZJn/s1600-h/lincoln-memorial-flickr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ99udSxidKgT-TRJCrnT1jvLeYSI7jjtYWt_tGhtEroAKXaRc1QgQR1FEM9PcleufvghRTilBdlIyGrmalRMhOj13z-N74Yk72Q8cr-tP4tZcq8QSq49M7L6gqyWOW66VbOuaqH-cHZJn/s320/lincoln-memorial-flickr.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">It is, in the proper sense of the word, awesome. Lincoln stares out to the Washington monument and beyond, to the Capitol. His hands are beautiful. I paused for a moment and read the words of the Gettysburg address, carved to the left of the statue. The US knows how to do municipal art that works.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Tramping back throught the park, I headed for the Museum of the American Indian, one of the Smithsonian's newest ventures.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOMqWqT3q8JJx4Gy7rau5jl33kOzbnVYO4m2dlgZhqJxEU5Gl4wk3oyXhNASNBi_ZPBhRvcMQMzeczDuC1JojgTgEXvhdg2nONJ1bVf0lcDcIint56dNRzggc_qV-SKrcORiff5_nB_N5t/s1600-h/nmai1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOMqWqT3q8JJx4Gy7rau5jl33kOzbnVYO4m2dlgZhqJxEU5Gl4wk3oyXhNASNBi_ZPBhRvcMQMzeczDuC1JojgTgEXvhdg2nONJ1bVf0lcDcIint56dNRzggc_qV-SKrcORiff5_nB_N5t/s320/nmai1.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">The building is lovely - all curves and mellow sandiness. It's a tough history and rather disconcerting to follow, as the tribes all have their own history to tell and that's what the museum does, rather than relate the more usual single narrative. The Washington Post guide had said that this was the place to have lunch: the cafe has several different counters all serving the food of different groups of tribes. I settled on the Great Plains counter and chose a chipotle chicken taco with guacamole. The chicken was good but the fried cornbread taco was outstanding.One thing I must learn how to make. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">On to the Museum of American History, where I stopped off the look at Julia Child's kitchen.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHTyIKqvFX4acZfCFeZ7LaAcmOB1NcMd-zGnV9H2WklITSxasVo0mQM8LNZ07xTUd9hPQDEDLMwrgagE8We7Y_S9fzRqk9YRyI1WX2IFe9-NZwmLsWJDHY44YJxHHSJ3xvDsS0swlIYIwn/s1600-h/julia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHTyIKqvFX4acZfCFeZ7LaAcmOB1NcMd-zGnV9H2WklITSxasVo0mQM8LNZ07xTUd9hPQDEDLMwrgagE8We7Y_S9fzRqk9YRyI1WX2IFe9-NZwmLsWJDHY44YJxHHSJ3xvDsS0swlIYIwn/s320/julia.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">There were videos of Julia's tv show and by now, I knew her wonderfully plummy accent from the film. The kitchen was warm and welcoming and packed with a lifetime's love of cooking. Outside the museum I paused to buy one of my most useful Washington purchases: a pair of earmuffs. Clamped to my lugs, they saw off the worst of the biting chilly wind. Then on to the National Gallery and the American galleries, where I fell in love with Andrew Wyeth's Wind from the Sea. Sadly, the shop had no reproduction of it. So this will have to do:<br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5pt7s3sWv2wnLPdX8WLbd_5loK38433Npsh3POtGu-QqFUoWP30oO11arWgJSISW-_tkYMPVjvqUSpz72YU_YKVbQOJ78pZRAbj2vA8UPgTOGIAUf39cAVXespHoAQwDO99C29u_mpd5E/s1600-h/WindFromTheSea1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5pt7s3sWv2wnLPdX8WLbd_5loK38433Npsh3POtGu-QqFUoWP30oO11arWgJSISW-_tkYMPVjvqUSpz72YU_YKVbQOJ78pZRAbj2vA8UPgTOGIAUf39cAVXespHoAQwDO99C29u_mpd5E/s320/WindFromTheSea1.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">I must have walked about eight hours on Sunday, and supper was a rather indifferent bowl of clam chowder back at the hotel.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Lovely bartender: You must try the clam chowder!<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Me: Where are the clams from?<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">LB: Let me check...(after much muttering) They're from our catering company.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Not the provenance I was hoping for.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">After watching Claire do a fine day's teaching on Monday, she, Russ, her Penn friend, and I headed for the Tabard Inn, suggested by Katie who was a delegate on the course. Turned out to be a bloody brilliant suggestion.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxz571h3HNdspUv2n6yebdsZm3Spwy7tICw8OodGStzuYnhqZNXsodpCJ9Kfl-WOH6ex46LcCSgL1lqnDKsLs7H_w783ec0NzYh4qDe4WfTKJ8CWw9ukF7XOQfv5RNQya1ioOIUwjKOH7z/s1600-h/hotel-tabard-inn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxz571h3HNdspUv2n6yebdsZm3Spwy7tICw8OodGStzuYnhqZNXsodpCJ9Kfl-WOH6ex46LcCSgL1lqnDKsLs7H_w783ec0NzYh4qDe4WfTKJ8CWw9ukF7XOQfv5RNQya1ioOIUwjKOH7z/s320/hotel-tabard-inn.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">The Tabard is a series of comfy old fashioned rooms, and Russ introduced me to another great beer: Bell's Winter White, a stonking wheat beer. My respect for American beers steeply increased. After half an hour, we got a table for supper, and very fine it was. I had forgotten my camera so I can't show you the lovely Asian seared salmon I scoffed, but it was damn good.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Tuesday was spent training, then it was back home on the red-eye and though I loved America, it was grand to be home to more snow and British accents. Mouse gave me a terrific welcome then settled down on the sofa to keep a careful eye on me to make sure I didn't go anywhere in the near future. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWwbwuGyAfStqnRYGyZ6n7RF0vu9ABSxMM_lTmpPa9avGyGxCP8vRljijRu2_xK3utVOfk0rCBPvbBES1HVoHHEQ_5DBS5RdbI21WuLbNND87PWEId5W0iOeHj9nxUkr3jYW00bfiIR7M4/s1600-h/yuengling-lager.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXlV5jfB904qCcbYO0yMIyM-q2VcpYIZp0coYAICgJMa0hhVtZ-52-U4MKgutTpIjpenKimL4q32ntmIhYrA9EdRXGyi9wjMd_21mnRqY-1S2sp8-mWBZywD_yP7L47E2egzg333a73BZF/s1600-h/am6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXlV5jfB904qCcbYO0yMIyM-q2VcpYIZp0coYAICgJMa0hhVtZ-52-U4MKgutTpIjpenKimL4q32ntmIhYrA9EdRXGyi9wjMd_21mnRqY-1S2sp8-mWBZywD_yP7L47E2egzg333a73BZF/s320/am6.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">There's more to tell about the trip - but that can wait til tomorrow.<br />
</div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-50122521563335686862010-01-08T20:03:00.000+00:002010-01-08T20:03:07.747+00:00Happy new year!<div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0rkiXlUznwr9YEvMrOjchcoC-zblBLyTxpbxgZCtcHEo9KKVVkoJrmo18vW4XYktpxy_0nwIJNpUR5KgaJdxFhV8dtuy2oVqrZhUSCsXYl1lsBhyphenhyphenBsTISKvEx0V77OXU7c4Yr_AGFybqn/s1600-h/newyear1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0rkiXlUznwr9YEvMrOjchcoC-zblBLyTxpbxgZCtcHEo9KKVVkoJrmo18vW4XYktpxy_0nwIJNpUR5KgaJdxFhV8dtuy2oVqrZhUSCsXYl1lsBhyphenhyphenBsTISKvEx0V77OXU7c4Yr_AGFybqn/s320/newyear1.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Happy new year to all readers and visitors, and may 2010 bring you every food delight that you wish for...my new year kicked off in traditional style with a lovely visit to best mate J in the depths of a snowy Buckinghamshire countryside. Our new year's eve feast began with a starter of smoked scallops and chirizo on rye-coriander toast: but we'd scoffed it before I had a chance to get the camera out. Next up, and in time to be photoed, was a fennel risotto with parmesan shavings. A good winter warmer. And to finish, fresh pineapple roasted in a spiced butterscotch sauce (a Denis Cotter recipe). I didn't have time to make a coconut ice cream to go with it, but J whipped down to the corner shop and grabbed some fine vanilla ice to complement the hot fruit.<br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_zuxX98ip9PeFxaAN59GU7s2DNdVc0QBACwhFxDHdBKTLMVQc3ICD6lLMG9LnTKRxVhqA5rRyJcytvodGz7PlvHsUNXHOnWyI9l76V9EXKHsPt9fhehZASvnnfnkBq1unec_zEC8TaIj/s1600-h/newyear2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_zuxX98ip9PeFxaAN59GU7s2DNdVc0QBACwhFxDHdBKTLMVQc3ICD6lLMG9LnTKRxVhqA5rRyJcytvodGz7PlvHsUNXHOnWyI9l76V9EXKHsPt9fhehZASvnnfnkBq1unec_zEC8TaIj/s320/newyear2.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">While we were polishing that off, Daisy and Freida were lounging on the sofa in their basket, keeping snug.<br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqHzrm31ZHf3SZGjhyphenhyphenjcFhccJ7wdvx04r3QPa7kc1iOcx-SwvI71XX-5zq33Ei73ov0SEp5OhVWeNR-dai49rM11__RhzDIO4g_-m_uqO1-zo8NYIA3Tpwywgl14Tw0xVvVBHlo0we5QAZ/s1600-h/newyear3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqHzrm31ZHf3SZGjhyphenhyphenjcFhccJ7wdvx04r3QPa7kc1iOcx-SwvI71XX-5zq33Ei73ov0SEp5OhVWeNR-dai49rM11__RhzDIO4g_-m_uqO1-zo8NYIA3Tpwywgl14Tw0xVvVBHlo0we5QAZ/s320/newyear3.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My christmas began with a visit to Ely - the farmers market was open on the day before Christmas Eve so I couldn't resist a return. Hard to believe that this was the first snowfall of the big freeze. <br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvJpr2Hj3RquUYPizzfUfR46FGaSlUN4Hz4Ki9NpFPXxTUOeI0t0kdkjZ1oRK8YV009pMfbuNu0vSeb8fu-1uTeJbx47SO5309gKO5fNqUmRm4p7g222A1bWwqoen2LQaqEc2Ofh5FAk6A/s1600-h/newyear4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvJpr2Hj3RquUYPizzfUfR46FGaSlUN4Hz4Ki9NpFPXxTUOeI0t0kdkjZ1oRK8YV009pMfbuNu0vSeb8fu-1uTeJbx47SO5309gKO5fNqUmRm4p7g222A1bWwqoen2LQaqEc2Ofh5FAk6A/s320/newyear4.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The cathedral was all set for the festive season with a fabulous tree.<br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgabdowrDTs8kbhfgsx9IuyP0B_dUcNL_sDHZXYRhe7FNPX7JflDhXLuAOgPA5ZGXaobNAJadY7b7O-5FOrHw3BTGIChRYWsZR8grCKfOVaQdfPgqaM2v8Aiv4ViyYculdkRBSaNnrn4yqR/s1600-h/newyear5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgabdowrDTs8kbhfgsx9IuyP0B_dUcNL_sDHZXYRhe7FNPX7JflDhXLuAOgPA5ZGXaobNAJadY7b7O-5FOrHw3BTGIChRYWsZR8grCKfOVaQdfPgqaM2v8Aiv4ViyYculdkRBSaNnrn4yqR/s320/newyear5.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">And just as I'd hoped, there at the market was the lovely Norfolk potter who has furnished me with some great dishes on my last visit. I've lost her card, and don't want to risk getting her name wrong, so full details will have to wait til I find which book her card is marking. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgifSGq3azlYvCrImdU1ytdRHTkwIeTMSmUcIIQPdkVtVydGqJzIrXCsXOQAaexW8MddAVFtVcU_W_HWJ5NLbgD4DeYe2yG__AUYTvPPwbS8ZAbrWEt7v_UNtyAcaamEB0atwL3e89awHmf/s1600-h/newyear6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgifSGq3azlYvCrImdU1ytdRHTkwIeTMSmUcIIQPdkVtVydGqJzIrXCsXOQAaexW8MddAVFtVcU_W_HWJ5NLbgD4DeYe2yG__AUYTvPPwbS8ZAbrWEt7v_UNtyAcaamEB0atwL3e89awHmf/s320/newyear6.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">I'd hoped she'd be there so that I could buy J's smaller present - and I got a lovely pottery collander for myself. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOSCA39ni0A3UhSavTnjGhGYpkDCBTc14Vjn7Nc69pMlM7qrejHZbbgda8FhRjS766nhANVI7iH-BoiSqoN8WjXg6H8PDpfyNmv7OBMSbAyYWDX4VSi4f1iTBjsr0uzCL21zGx43FnzetG/s1600-h/newyear7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOSCA39ni0A3UhSavTnjGhGYpkDCBTc14Vjn7Nc69pMlM7qrejHZbbgda8FhRjS766nhANVI7iH-BoiSqoN8WjXg6H8PDpfyNmv7OBMSbAyYWDX4VSi4f1iTBjsr0uzCL21zGx43FnzetG/s320/newyear7.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">J's big present to me was a beautiful tagine: it now has pride of place in my kitchen and I'm planning some yummy Morracan stuff to cook in the coming months. But at the moment I'm all of a slather because I've been asked by work to go to Washington DC for a couple of days to help out on some training. America! I've never been before, and ice permitting, I fly out tomorrow afternoon. I hope to visit the Lincoln Memorial, the cafe at the Native American museum, get to grips with American eggs and hook up with Eddie from <a href="http://obamafoodorama.blogspot.com/">Obama Fooderama</a>. Meanwhile: keep warm!<br />
</div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-12744970502909976922009-12-21T18:45:00.002+00:002009-12-21T20:38:34.121+00:00Slow food and food for snow<div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgAxZGUxZa7KSzeEX5VchRukK0NaZrEFkU5msjzWmJUViTI8vfESPEJ7brm6fP2ZCCgnKB99hr1gIDm4V4HNyzDzhihfGvcP5DpxwbD9yvH2WytDZJt8xGpwJ4TUG6pTfBgTsHYW4Nk8q-/s1600-h/slow1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgAxZGUxZa7KSzeEX5VchRukK0NaZrEFkU5msjzWmJUViTI8vfESPEJ7brm6fP2ZCCgnKB99hr1gIDm4V4HNyzDzhihfGvcP5DpxwbD9yvH2WytDZJt8xGpwJ4TUG6pTfBgTsHYW4Nk8q-/s320/slow1.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">On a very chilly Saturday morning, I headed down to the South Bank for the Slow Food Festival: yes it was cold, but it was one of those crystal clear winter days that meant a stroll over the footbridge from Embankment was a must. <br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid2D3lTpTLZFtXNbQTA1AbFpxVQ_tvTSRTBkIXFo3uRyVF3EpSEQwRNP_KBDCnOXLMYdr9kqoazGJe2CZObL4n_xbTUx_lOmFtjBK3zJ4JZK43wdepQEQMgnr5wGaDValEvVJTd3OKPHlf/s1600-h/slow2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid2D3lTpTLZFtXNbQTA1AbFpxVQ_tvTSRTBkIXFo3uRyVF3EpSEQwRNP_KBDCnOXLMYdr9kqoazGJe2CZObL4n_xbTUx_lOmFtjBK3zJ4JZK43wdepQEQMgnr5wGaDValEvVJTd3OKPHlf/s320/slow2.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">I arrived about noon, but the stalls were battling the cold and many were still setting up. I had a wander round before settling down to shopping. These cheery guys were at the Buta Kitchen stall, selling preserves and jam from Azerbaijan. Just south of Georgia, it's a region with a proud culinary heritage, and the Buta Kitchen is part of the <a href="http://www.butafestival.com/">Buta Festival</a> that's on from now until March. I bought a jar of white cherry preserve - tiny whole cherries glistening in a sugary suspension. I hope the guys have great success.<br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieHBnD9R6QYUzdfWmiXYzM1nUi0CS1q-yvV_yA0uxF9jgop73ESBQlcToxpHyN0BBPkxAlAxwpT6tPBUM3YAPdkNYto2SA_BuwsrepOFGOBd9l9af7UBrskB05l4IbBU3YrbEL6yrhk_yc/s1600-h/slow3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieHBnD9R6QYUzdfWmiXYzM1nUi0CS1q-yvV_yA0uxF9jgop73ESBQlcToxpHyN0BBPkxAlAxwpT6tPBUM3YAPdkNYto2SA_BuwsrepOFGOBd9l9af7UBrskB05l4IbBU3YrbEL6yrhk_yc/s320/slow3.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Neal's Yard Dairy were there, and I couldn't resist getting a hunk of Stickeleon cheese - it tastes how Stilton used to.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpezOvytuYKgfb6Fk7Cyv84zsFB67doIRcUkGU45gZHtfjHppsYax1IWSxP4OMsnigPG4PB3UYGsmMpopRMxMpC5gwYqa3yDm7fGBA4Vmo0Nv13WAsnyRQ-rnpyOJ5IWpGkG5NEozIa-HW/s1600-h/slow4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpezOvytuYKgfb6Fk7Cyv84zsFB67doIRcUkGU45gZHtfjHppsYax1IWSxP4OMsnigPG4PB3UYGsmMpopRMxMpC5gwYqa3yDm7fGBA4Vmo0Nv13WAsnyRQ-rnpyOJ5IWpGkG5NEozIa-HW/s320/slow4.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">I was pleased to see the very nice lady from <a href="http://www.casadeloli.com/index.php?page=index">Casa de l'Oli</a> was there: last year I bought a bottle of lime infused olive oil from here. This year I loved the orange scented oil. It's a tiny family company, run from Catalonia, where the olives grow, and Suffolk.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimd7lJRs83kIgXQ6LXYvMmZ9gu0ggQgvmgh9JdLeTtQo4v71c8fXYGH3F01C-AIXJrRIlAtI94_KJnMwmi3ZV4Iwx-xBU7aoch7yEls7x2OthQ9pqClea3D5zGSkQxcc0BsSW_vD9n2IO8/s1600-h/slow5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimd7lJRs83kIgXQ6LXYvMmZ9gu0ggQgvmgh9JdLeTtQo4v71c8fXYGH3F01C-AIXJrRIlAtI94_KJnMwmi3ZV4Iwx-xBU7aoch7yEls7x2OthQ9pqClea3D5zGSkQxcc0BsSW_vD9n2IO8/s320/slow5.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">There was a very unhappy soul behind the Shell Seekers stall - her gas hadn't turned up so she couldn't cook, and she was worried that her ice hadn't arrived either. Surely you don't need that today, I said - oh yes, she said, she had to have it to comply with health and safety regs. Oh dear. I bagged a jar of potted shrimp - cooked last night, said the unhappy soul. I was sorry not to see Oliver's perry at the festival - I hope he'll be back for the next one.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">By now, I was getting very cold, so I headed up to Covent Garden, and fell into Waterstone's. Dan over at <a href="http://essexeating.blogspot.com/">Essex Eating</a> has been full of praise for the Eagle Cookbook, and there it was. After reading the recipe for smoked haddock with horseradish mash, I felt like eating the book. I bought it instead, and home again, put some black beans on to soak for the Eagle's Black Bean Soup. Just as well really, as I was greeted by a snow storm when I emerged from Tottenham Hale station this evening.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSzuQLSvpNw98yDdntjqUXHj1p7p9uIwijgEuTQ2RyKIr742uda_IlOqUXq_Hagq9x-B6bl6mzkJdWqTOK3zDG2ttQp5QzXcJaXldCBJDFhnUhOKHwPbrhM9KUONmVe93iHDj0Wfb22q6t/s1600-h/slow7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSzuQLSvpNw98yDdntjqUXHj1p7p9uIwijgEuTQ2RyKIr742uda_IlOqUXq_Hagq9x-B6bl6mzkJdWqTOK3zDG2ttQp5QzXcJaXldCBJDFhnUhOKHwPbrhM9KUONmVe93iHDj0Wfb22q6t/s320/slow7.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Here's my lemon verbena plant, just outside the kitchen door.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Ciw1K-oHTsrmxAArqhkHU8_g97-sh_Vpguv6qXRfShz9upqzJ0MbwgVFl3orles6xW0KS3E46V5drnHrhZ7_HSYleUgA68USZqc3Ud2E6HOb-ab84OZ01ATn-f2JA0qDFY6eOisovucz/s1600-h/slow6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Ciw1K-oHTsrmxAArqhkHU8_g97-sh_Vpguv6qXRfShz9upqzJ0MbwgVFl3orles6xW0KS3E46V5drnHrhZ7_HSYleUgA68USZqc3Ud2E6HOb-ab84OZ01ATn-f2JA0qDFY6eOisovucz/s320/slow6.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">And here's Mouse, demanding to know what all the white cold stuff is.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr6BPynAbQQhKB-aGFj32Pw2ICx65ddiGwgc8Gm2MhKtEko-tYH3smC5EeYj1jH_aigxVd2x-IKNQy8idJ9lkeaFKAgcXjx2EllcW-D5H5WuDj5UKmOFTYSwALdhcr1CG58pK67WNX494D/s1600-h/slow8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr6BPynAbQQhKB-aGFj32Pw2ICx65ddiGwgc8Gm2MhKtEko-tYH3smC5EeYj1jH_aigxVd2x-IKNQy8idJ9lkeaFKAgcXjx2EllcW-D5H5WuDj5UKmOFTYSwALdhcr1CG58pK67WNX494D/s320/slow8.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">So now the soup is on the simmer, and I'm set for warming supper.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><strong>Black Bean Soup</strong> (adapted from the <em>Eagle Cookbook</em>)<br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">250g black beans, soaked overnight<br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">1l veggie stock (I used Marigold)<br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">4 small red onions<br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">2 colves garlic<br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">2 sticks of celery<br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">1 tsp chilli flakes (or a whole red chilli)<br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">2 heaped tsp cumin seeds<br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">400g tin of chopped tomatoes<br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">a bunch of coriander<br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">a gloop of creme freche or sour cream<br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Drain the black beans from its soaking liquid, cover with fresh water, bring to the boil. Then drain the beans again and add stock. Return the beans to a gentle simmer. <br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">While the beans are doing their thing, sweat the onions, garlic, chilli and celery. When the veg are transparent, add the cumin seeds and cook gently for a few minutes. Add the tomatoes and the coriander and cook gently for about 20 mins. Then tip the veg mixture into the beans and the stock and let it bubble gently for at least half an hour. Check the seasoning: I added salt and a pinch of sugar. <br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">What you do now depends on how you like your soup's texture: I blitzed a quarter of the soup in the blender then added it back to the unblended liquor. Simmer gently to make sure all the beans are soft. <br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Serve with a dollop of creme freche or sour cream and a slice of the loaf of your choice.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE-GOXUFA9VsRTwoARWw7SsNHAVgLsNJ8N49hDnS2P6nDuB-mDzBI_fAIoLMfmSz0Phr5jt0j0pAtbfqqRqGCIGLf0nzOFZlcqLhKfMSkZi3TA93ZMRtHX861pPeLULvsz1PPnL97qPfky/s1600-h/slow9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE-GOXUFA9VsRTwoARWw7SsNHAVgLsNJ8N49hDnS2P6nDuB-mDzBI_fAIoLMfmSz0Phr5jt0j0pAtbfqqRqGCIGLf0nzOFZlcqLhKfMSkZi3TA93ZMRtHX861pPeLULvsz1PPnL97qPfky/s320/slow9.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">A black beauty. Thank you Dan for a great recommendation.<br />
</div>franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3115861388808387912.post-73263398533870247862009-12-17T18:59:00.001+00:002009-12-17T19:05:54.801+00:00A winter warmer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjWBQx9Oxn10ikvnjfUZ1SZtnEifdhcTO1fNO9AZWT-mm5mRMH4zlYLrwY2anjVxozkgyHytcL0g4stVKjvEED9e4fNDVVCmF8Bg1mZf4PQ1GxkM-ve_2yirDyf5REjsawecURGRGMqCAK/s1600-h/mac1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjWBQx9Oxn10ikvnjfUZ1SZtnEifdhcTO1fNO9AZWT-mm5mRMH4zlYLrwY2anjVxozkgyHytcL0g4stVKjvEED9e4fNDVVCmF8Bg1mZf4PQ1GxkM-ve_2yirDyf5REjsawecURGRGMqCAK/s320/mac1.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There must be something in the air...as the snow fell on Wednesday, I felt an overwhelming urge to make macaroni cheese. And today Fiona, over at <a href="http://thecheeselover.blogspot.com/">The Cheeselover</a>, (she's author of the very delicious book <em>The Cheese Course</em>) has been blogging and twittering about this fantastic comfort blanket of a supper. Fiona's running a competition and this doesn't quite count as an entry, so I'll have to return to it before mid-Jan. <br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQG-WeA8qzM04LuKwUlrlu4206Bv7TwtefKPt5V_raG-cs1uhsS0BVUE_MUNJvrhJi18WTwLeLSrS5YGWvWj7mwVFlE4X_aTj3_83Uz87_Q06MrmP_Tf8E1sMsBU6Yrw47CHq1xSDSC3P/s1600-h/mac2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQG-WeA8qzM04LuKwUlrlu4206Bv7TwtefKPt5V_raG-cs1uhsS0BVUE_MUNJvrhJi18WTwLeLSrS5YGWvWj7mwVFlE4X_aTj3_83Uz87_Q06MrmP_Tf8E1sMsBU6Yrw47CHq1xSDSC3P/s320/mac2.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My recipe, which was based on my mum's (which undoubtedly came from <em>Good Housekeeping</em>), underwent a spring clean last year after I'd leafed through Angela Nilsen's excellent <em>Ultimate Recipe Book</em>. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYXHBKojsgGxdZuXWIhuVYPuNJBcFhQ60ARLhUbSwPY2P0O3erk9oe9MvXLtvhS74tzU0wGH_dtQda6nTiv15_hiCI7W0twbo_im2Ihm1VtACf6Pb3164XQdjDBTSqTR5w_Fd_TjWN_am6/s1600-h/mac3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYXHBKojsgGxdZuXWIhuVYPuNJBcFhQ60ARLhUbSwPY2P0O3erk9oe9MvXLtvhS74tzU0wGH_dtQda6nTiv15_hiCI7W0twbo_im2Ihm1VtACf6Pb3164XQdjDBTSqTR5w_Fd_TjWN_am6/s320/mac3.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Angela's excellent version has influenced mine in a few ways - make the bechemal sauce a bit slack so that once the macaroni goes in, the whole thing doesn't seize up; use a cheese mix of half chedder and half gruyere to ensure maximum cheesiness;and cheesy crumbs! Angela likes a tomato topping and so do I: not to everyone's taste, especially those to whom tomatoes are the devil's work.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzD1ngUowbKnP3DvQODRkGHTGGI2-RtrNsnZF4lN7jtFGnn85w_lNnYjeSgnr-Ora-TJ8bR7LZA5EovqhtfM7owt6UJ4bsvTMTwqrIQVDLOC0Gw9j5xLSvo8gXtJvPSj49Oax5epSmwibn/s1600-h/mac4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzD1ngUowbKnP3DvQODRkGHTGGI2-RtrNsnZF4lN7jtFGnn85w_lNnYjeSgnr-Ora-TJ8bR7LZA5EovqhtfM7owt6UJ4bsvTMTwqrIQVDLOC0Gw9j5xLSvo8gXtJvPSj49Oax5epSmwibn/s320/mac4.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I discovered I had no chedder, so my cheese was a third Lancashire and two thirds Gruyere. The final dish goes into an oven for around 20 mins, then under the grill to brown off the crumbs. Last night I was starving so didn't wait for the full toasting of the crumbs.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9CvRd27hpM714ikoTYeBeHDA9zirSMfGjjfONmL1m2eksWP9hKWm8lV-lJ_L_GvTZazFK61w0xV9xWAePEvUhqGWNWE9Jc0vH0XK2ev1zSvt-pU0iZY10b6MjaWS2TD8aBl6ZAqSNvtGt/s1600-h/mac5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9CvRd27hpM714ikoTYeBeHDA9zirSMfGjjfONmL1m2eksWP9hKWm8lV-lJ_L_GvTZazFK61w0xV9xWAePEvUhqGWNWE9Jc0vH0XK2ev1zSvt-pU0iZY10b6MjaWS2TD8aBl6ZAqSNvtGt/s320/mac5.jpg" /></a><br />
</div>But it went down the hatch pretty damn quick. Yum. A perfect antidote to chilly nights and snowy blizzards.franmouse39http://www.blogger.com/profile/12394448350398846098noreply@blogger.com2