In contrast to the appalling shower currently in government (and by the same token, Corbyn's cretins in opposition) the Dear Leader and I have been doing a bit of thinking beyond the next news bulletin, or even the next election. As noted previously here, we have planted what amounts to an orchard; have set out a good-sized kitchen garden; and invested in some relatively exotic trees (lemon, lime, mulberry, cherry, apricot...) to be kept in pots for winter storage under glass. Partly done for fun, partly for flavour - truly fresh lemons, for example, are streets ahead of shop bought ones - partly to give us an insurance policy in hard times - either our own, the country's, or the climate's.
Some of that forward thinking began a long time ago, and has paid off: we planted a quince maybe fifteen years back, and last year enjoyed our best crop ever; even earlier in our time in sunny Fulwood we put in a walnut tree, finally producing enough last year to make nocino. Thanks to a very generous gift by Dr Paul Thomas, whose company leads the UK in its field, we have just planted three tiny hazels - not for the nuts, though they will be welcome, but for the possibility that six years hence we will have out own truffles. Not the chocolate version, but the enormously expensive fungi. I met Dr Thomas on Saturday, to interview him for Lancashire Life Magazine. His company inoculates a range of trees with the seeds/spores, and works with estate owners, restaurants etc to see them through to production, something that takes at least six years.
Fingers crossed we make it to summer/autumn of 2025 unscathed, by no means a given of course. Similar digit crossing that the delicate and apparently temperamental truffles take in our soil (specially limed and lightened in their particular patch). I'm really looking forward to being able to cook with our own home-grown truffles; but I am really, really, really looking forward to casually dropping into some future dinner party conversation 'Oh, the truffles? Yes, we picked them earlier today. Did you like them? This year's crop has been exceptionally good.'
Monday 11 March 2019
Friday 8 March 2019
Something Old, Something New, Something Delicious
The old tradition of Pancake Day presented a slight challenge for the current healthy/weight-loss kick, but a bit of creativity resulted in something really rather good, with loads of flavour to it.
Time was - especially as a greedy and - in spite of that - almost painfully thin child - when pancake day meant about eight of them, made by my mother with all white flour and served with sugar and butter, or sugar and lemon. Or jam. Lovely, but not exactly great on the GI spectrum. So I made mine this year with half white flour and half wholegrain buckwheat (giving the resulting pancakes a nicely nutty hint), plus a good handful of leftover dried onion flakes stirred into the batter. They added far more onion than you'd expect, and as a bonus filled the kitchen and dining room with appetising oniony aromas to get the gastric juices flowing. I even got a compliment from Sternest Critic.
Clearly (I hope) savoury, they were stuffed with chopped mushrooms and chopped spinach that had been cooked beforehand, and a dollop of ricotta (plus a grated dog end of grana Padano). Reheated in a hot oven with the juices from the mushrooms poured over to keep them moist, and a sprinkling of grated parmesan more for decoration than anything else, the dish was filling, full of flavour and pretty virtuous.
They will be made again in a few weeks, I'm sure. Healthy doesn't have to be just salad and fruit, fine though both may be.
Time was - especially as a greedy and - in spite of that - almost painfully thin child - when pancake day meant about eight of them, made by my mother with all white flour and served with sugar and butter, or sugar and lemon. Or jam. Lovely, but not exactly great on the GI spectrum. So I made mine this year with half white flour and half wholegrain buckwheat (giving the resulting pancakes a nicely nutty hint), plus a good handful of leftover dried onion flakes stirred into the batter. They added far more onion than you'd expect, and as a bonus filled the kitchen and dining room with appetising oniony aromas to get the gastric juices flowing. I even got a compliment from Sternest Critic.
Clearly (I hope) savoury, they were stuffed with chopped mushrooms and chopped spinach that had been cooked beforehand, and a dollop of ricotta (plus a grated dog end of grana Padano). Reheated in a hot oven with the juices from the mushrooms poured over to keep them moist, and a sprinkling of grated parmesan more for decoration than anything else, the dish was filling, full of flavour and pretty virtuous.
They will be made again in a few weeks, I'm sure. Healthy doesn't have to be just salad and fruit, fine though both may be.
Tuesday 5 March 2019
A Lemon Tree, My Dear Watson?
It was brought home to me this morning how important the seemingly humble lemon actually is in culinary life. I'm not talking about fancy dishes with lemon as a major ingredient - ah, childhood memories of lemon meringue pie, and childhood nightmares of the school version possibly made with a by-product of petrol refining.
As is normal here we had a bowl of fruit as part of breakfast. Having shopped yesterday at my favourite local Asian supermarket dragon fruit was part of that. The last time we had it thus the flavour was almost non-existent; today, with a big squeeze of lemon it was brought forward hugely. Guava benefitted too, its strange (and enjoyable) man-sweat quality enhanced by the citrus. I always prepare papaya with a similar dash of lime juice, which raises its game greatly. The list goes on, and includes lemon as an acid helping reduce the GI value of certain foods, which is great long term for the waistline.
I also recalled that imported supplies of citrus fruits are expected to be hit by the looming no-deal Brexit. Dover, apparently, accounts for 80 per cent or so of imports, and will be a car park if general expectations of government planning come about. With Chris Grayling (I have complete confidence in... per the marvellous Mrs May's sell) in charge of transport what could possibly go wrong?
We have grown our own - yes we have a lemon tree, my dear Watson, and a lime - with somewhat limited success for a few years now. I hope that the couple of lemons and one lime expected as our annual crop will not have to suffice this summer. The Dear Leader's G&T needs a slice. And so do a vast range of salads, fish dishes, fruits and sauces. We're buggered, aren't we?
As is normal here we had a bowl of fruit as part of breakfast. Having shopped yesterday at my favourite local Asian supermarket dragon fruit was part of that. The last time we had it thus the flavour was almost non-existent; today, with a big squeeze of lemon it was brought forward hugely. Guava benefitted too, its strange (and enjoyable) man-sweat quality enhanced by the citrus. I always prepare papaya with a similar dash of lime juice, which raises its game greatly. The list goes on, and includes lemon as an acid helping reduce the GI value of certain foods, which is great long term for the waistline.
I also recalled that imported supplies of citrus fruits are expected to be hit by the looming no-deal Brexit. Dover, apparently, accounts for 80 per cent or so of imports, and will be a car park if general expectations of government planning come about. With Chris Grayling (I have complete confidence in... per the marvellous Mrs May's sell) in charge of transport what could possibly go wrong?
We have grown our own - yes we have a lemon tree, my dear Watson, and a lime - with somewhat limited success for a few years now. I hope that the couple of lemons and one lime expected as our annual crop will not have to suffice this summer. The Dear Leader's G&T needs a slice. And so do a vast range of salads, fish dishes, fruits and sauces. We're buggered, aren't we?
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