The end of July and the allotment is in top gear, so keeping my log of costs/benefits is getting tricky. One of the big successes this year has been our artichoke bed. There is a lot of plant for not much nutrition, but they are so easy once established (just water in drought, and lob a bit of manure round the bases early in the year) and the flavour of artichokes so sublime that I'd not be without them.
After nine years with a plot (for the benefit of MI5 and the CIA, that refers to my allotment not some scheme to bring Western Civilisation to its knees - Bush and Blair managed that quite well between them) it still amazes me how much can be grown on such a relatively small space. You live and learn - having suffered (?) gluts with various crops we now grow a range where possible within each, or plant in dribs and drabs so that harvests are spread out, but even with three different types of artichoke we seem to be getting all of them at once.
Is there a more beautiful vegetable than the artichoke? It is the flower of a thistle in essence, so no wonder it is a looker. It cannot hurt its glamour quotient that so many others are plug ugly: we also grow Chinese artichokes, that look like larvae, and Jerusalem artichokes, bigger larvae. Top weirdo may well be the Kohl Rabi with its alien protuberances.
Our Sunday harvest was courgettes, artichokes, broad beans, French beans, new spuds (nearing the end), fennel, a load of blackcurrants, last of the strawbs, beetroot, a massively long (grown in drainpipes) parsnip (about 75cm), a few sticks of par-cel and some lettuces. At this time of year we could survive on the produce from that small patch of land - no claret yet of course, but an experimental grape vine is showing the first signs ever of fruiting, which says something about this year's weather.
All those veg are helping our already unexpectedly successful Alternative Eating Programme. I have lost 22lb and have a quite different sideways silhouette. SC has benefitted even more, now a shadow of his still-eating-like-a-prop-but-too-shoulder-damaged-to-play self. The Capo di Tutti Capi had less to lose, but she too shifted that (with some grumbling and the occasional death threat).
The Maldives jaunt thus saw us unafraid to be seen in sexy beach gear. Healthy eating would seem to be a habit, as even with the potentially pig-out buffet breakfast and dinner we only gained a pound or two each. Not so I think the Russians and Chinese in the same facility. I swear one Russian chap attempted to eat his own weight in Danish pastries one day, and our Chinese neighbours in the restaurant seemed unaware that they need not grab everything in reach before it ran out - it never would run out. Twice I saw a full plate of bread rolls arrive at their table, for not one bite to be taken - guess they didn't like bread but wanted their idiotic money's worth. I became more convinced than ever that we need to improve food security in the UK after that trip: the Russians and Chinese are very peasant at heart still, and with hundreds of millions more coming into mindlessly greedy reach of available excess our overseas sources are going to be under pressure.
Tuesday 22 July 2014
Saturday 19 July 2014
I Wish to Register a Complaint
Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall is one of my heroes, as I have said previously in this blog. That comes with a few caveats - for what I am sure are good-hearted reasons he has a habit in his TV programmes of being rather condescending to, as it were, the lower orders: wouldn't it be good if the world's workers discovered vegetables, for example?
That said, I admire his food and food ethics, love his writing style, he seems like the sort of bloke you'd enjoy a pint with (the highest of praise) and I have found his methodical approach with things like meat timings to be spot on. But. I recently tried his sourdough loaf recipe, making a starter with enormous care, feeding it, scooping the right amount off to make a loaf, kneading as per instructions etc etc. The results were uniformly disappointing, no great flavour, a sad waste of high-grade flour, and rubbish texture however carefully kneeded and risen the loaves were.
So I gave that up, and reverted to my standard method. Unfortunately I took his word as gospel that you can't make bread unless you bake it at a very high temperature, so I ruined another two loaves that were not burned but developed a leathery crust and unpleasant dryness.
When I went back to baking at 180C or 200C depending on style, it worked again. Good bread.
This had me thinking about how much we trust such experts, thinking that when things go wrong with their recipes it must be us/our ingredients/our equipment. The blessed Delia is not without the occasional fault (apparent lack of humour aside), as I twice tried an oxtail and bean dish in one of her books, convinced I must have erred the first time when it failed, only to find it was equally unpleasant the next however great the care with which her fiats were followed.
Other than on certain holidays and business trips (time was) I have cooked daily for more than 30 years. Really I should have the confidence to stick to my own ideas and recipes. There is one major reason why I continue to follow their strictures on occasion, and that is the desire to try new stuff. Left to myself I'd cook many different things, but they would be familiar favourites. So I'll continue to trust HFH and TBD, and if I can get past his annoying writer's tics Nigel Slater too who churns out excellent ideas, along with new demigods to be discovered. But not Jamie Oliver thanks. Nor Nigella Lawson.
That may well be the legacy of the age of the TV cook. Those of us who actually do cook frequently have added to our repertoires, while those who live on ready-meals and takeout limit themselves to enjoying cooking vicariously on TV (and via pristine coffee table tomes).
That said, I admire his food and food ethics, love his writing style, he seems like the sort of bloke you'd enjoy a pint with (the highest of praise) and I have found his methodical approach with things like meat timings to be spot on. But. I recently tried his sourdough loaf recipe, making a starter with enormous care, feeding it, scooping the right amount off to make a loaf, kneading as per instructions etc etc. The results were uniformly disappointing, no great flavour, a sad waste of high-grade flour, and rubbish texture however carefully kneeded and risen the loaves were.
So I gave that up, and reverted to my standard method. Unfortunately I took his word as gospel that you can't make bread unless you bake it at a very high temperature, so I ruined another two loaves that were not burned but developed a leathery crust and unpleasant dryness.
When I went back to baking at 180C or 200C depending on style, it worked again. Good bread.
This had me thinking about how much we trust such experts, thinking that when things go wrong with their recipes it must be us/our ingredients/our equipment. The blessed Delia is not without the occasional fault (apparent lack of humour aside), as I twice tried an oxtail and bean dish in one of her books, convinced I must have erred the first time when it failed, only to find it was equally unpleasant the next however great the care with which her fiats were followed.
Other than on certain holidays and business trips (time was) I have cooked daily for more than 30 years. Really I should have the confidence to stick to my own ideas and recipes. There is one major reason why I continue to follow their strictures on occasion, and that is the desire to try new stuff. Left to myself I'd cook many different things, but they would be familiar favourites. So I'll continue to trust HFH and TBD, and if I can get past his annoying writer's tics Nigel Slater too who churns out excellent ideas, along with new demigods to be discovered. But not Jamie Oliver thanks. Nor Nigella Lawson.
That may well be the legacy of the age of the TV cook. Those of us who actually do cook frequently have added to our repertoires, while those who live on ready-meals and takeout limit themselves to enjoying cooking vicariously on TV (and via pristine coffee table tomes).
Wednesday 2 July 2014
BBQ Beyond the Meat - or Around It
BBQs are about meat, there is no getting away from it - at least not in this household. But they don't have to be - shouldn't be - solely carnivorous affairs.
With the glorious summer thus far (surely high time that the word drought was heard?) we have wheeled out the charcoal grill half a dozen times or so and taken advantage of the sunshine. One thing that has worked superbly has been using roasting joints - stuff we had in the freezer - butterflied out and roasted in a retaining rack. Given that they were Henry Rowntree's 'best roasting' Aberdeen Angus joints we expected them to be good, and found them superb. Not surprising given they were probably sirloin in one case and rump in the other, effectively making 4cm-thick steaks, cut into slices charred on the outside and bleu in the centre.
What makes it much more of a meal for me are the accompaniments. Salad of course gets nowhere near the heat, but other vegetables do. A skewer with baby courgettes impaled lengthwise cooked in 10 minutes. Another of mushrooms rolled in a little oil did likewise. Sweetcorn cobs achieve caramelised perfection on a grill, but need watching closely as the window between underdone and burned is narrow.
Best effort on that front was new spuds, however. Salted, oiled, rolled in several layers of foil then dropped directly onto the charcoal they did in about 25 minutes, turned occasionially to keep the cooking even. I do whole heads of garlic in similar fashion, only needing a few minutes before they are as squeezy as toothpaste.
The recent weather has provided us with an early glut of fennel bulbs, another veggie that works well in foil on the rack, and is very forgiving in that even if left for 10 minutes more than done-ness requires they still taste great, and their water content keeps them moist.
Not so the aubergine. A cheapo one foil-wrapped and cooked like the spuds, but far far too long, was a disaster. What emerged from the aluminium looked like something from a CSI episode about fire deaths. Back to grilling slices on the steel rack.
With the glorious summer thus far (surely high time that the word drought was heard?) we have wheeled out the charcoal grill half a dozen times or so and taken advantage of the sunshine. One thing that has worked superbly has been using roasting joints - stuff we had in the freezer - butterflied out and roasted in a retaining rack. Given that they were Henry Rowntree's 'best roasting' Aberdeen Angus joints we expected them to be good, and found them superb. Not surprising given they were probably sirloin in one case and rump in the other, effectively making 4cm-thick steaks, cut into slices charred on the outside and bleu in the centre.
What makes it much more of a meal for me are the accompaniments. Salad of course gets nowhere near the heat, but other vegetables do. A skewer with baby courgettes impaled lengthwise cooked in 10 minutes. Another of mushrooms rolled in a little oil did likewise. Sweetcorn cobs achieve caramelised perfection on a grill, but need watching closely as the window between underdone and burned is narrow.
Best effort on that front was new spuds, however. Salted, oiled, rolled in several layers of foil then dropped directly onto the charcoal they did in about 25 minutes, turned occasionially to keep the cooking even. I do whole heads of garlic in similar fashion, only needing a few minutes before they are as squeezy as toothpaste.
The recent weather has provided us with an early glut of fennel bulbs, another veggie that works well in foil on the rack, and is very forgiving in that even if left for 10 minutes more than done-ness requires they still taste great, and their water content keeps them moist.
Not so the aubergine. A cheapo one foil-wrapped and cooked like the spuds, but far far too long, was a disaster. What emerged from the aluminium looked like something from a CSI episode about fire deaths. Back to grilling slices on the steel rack.
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