We learned some time back that the five-a-day tag was the health Stasi wimping out. Seven was the original thought, and when it comes down to it, as much variety as you can get in fruit and veg in terms of types and colour has to be good. That simple principle if adhered to would put several thousand nutrition writers out of work btw.
I've not given up meat (nor will I), but have gradually cut back as we're filling up on loads of other stuff. Breakfast chez nous nowadays nearly always includes a homemade smoothie (the bought-in ones tend to be horribly sugary), blitzing fruit (but not too smoothly) with freshly squeezed juice (I have a lime addiction) and some milk/yog. That starts us off with about three servings (what is a serving? Depending on the way the wind blows, 3oz, two tablespoons, a good handful, a decent-sized fruit - not too much science there), but generally seven or eight fruits.
As ever the great HF-W has been a godsend. His RC Veg Everyday tome is brilliant (the Fruit one is I think his worst, but still a good read). He has the knack of providing enough info to let you prepare something, but also to spark ones curiosity about what if I do this, add that...?
One of his ideas I adapted to make a particularly fine and simple pasta sauce: a chili chopped finely after deseeding, three garlic cloves bashed to bits, and a tin of artichokes (yes, tinned) drained, the lot processed with a trickle of olive oil, plenty of paprika and some seasoning until it makes a puree that can be warmed and stirred into spag or pretty much any pasta. A few fresh tomatoes roughly chopped and added at the end brightens it and gives a bit of sharpness. His uses white beans in addition to the artichokes and is primarily a dip that I've also tried. Either way, it is simple and delicious. And a quick way to add another vegetable to the rotating list.
Behind the switch to more veg less flesh lie several factors. It's greener. It's cheaper. We've lost weight. And it promises to be healthier. In 2012 a friend whose lifestyle was not perhaps the healthiest, but who was apparently fit and well, had a fatal heart attack, no warning given. Another very good friend was diagnosed with cancer last year. Along with humour and energy (and medical science), as it fits her beliefs she's fighting it with the power of prayer. Old sceptic that I am while energy and humour and doctors make sense, nutritional changes appeal to me more than the god stuff. Each to their own.
There are of course no silver bullets, and there's no such thing really as a superfood. But as my insides nowadays regularly enjoy the fibrous equivalent of a steam clean, and we surely cannot be deficient in any micro-nutrients, we're hoping it does some good. And even if it doesn't we will have felt far better before meeting our maker. Were he to exist.
Showing posts with label vegetables. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vegetables. Show all posts
Monday, 23 February 2015
Tuesday, 22 July 2014
So Many Vegetables
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.
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.
Thursday, 1 May 2014
Allotments and Pickles
Our allotment association just sent a mail around warning us that Eric Pickles is considering removing the obligation for councils to provide allotments. Were that to come about cash-strapped local authorities would leap at the chance to grab back urban land to sell for development. End of a wonderful British tradition. Start of a few more superstores. The relevant department has since denied that any such plans exist. I wonder still, though the idea of governments not telling the truth is clearly ridiculous.
Mr Pickles of course looks like he deep fries lettuce and serves it with a cream sauce, so perhaps his personal agenda pays little heed to healthy eating. But government agencies are continually sending us warnings that unless we eat vegetables constantly we will all die horrible and imminent deaths. For hundreds of thousands of [cliche alert] hard working families allotments provide fantastic fruit and vegetables for a small rental, a few pounds for seeds, and (as per the group label) some hard work.
I wrote a piece for Hortus a while back on George Orwell and his belief in the practical values of allotments: he once suggested they would help the dispossessed of his day feed themselves. That has not changed. I've written here previously about how spending a small percentage of the billions that went into the Olympics on providing more allotments would have done a great deal more for our national health than watching fat blokes throw lumps of lead. And the benefits would have lasted generations not weeks.
Mr Pickles of course looks like he deep fries lettuce and serves it with a cream sauce, so perhaps his personal agenda pays little heed to healthy eating. But government agencies are continually sending us warnings that unless we eat vegetables constantly we will all die horrible and imminent deaths. For hundreds of thousands of [cliche alert] hard working families allotments provide fantastic fruit and vegetables for a small rental, a few pounds for seeds, and (as per the group label) some hard work.
I wrote a piece for Hortus a while back on George Orwell and his belief in the practical values of allotments: he once suggested they would help the dispossessed of his day feed themselves. That has not changed. I've written here previously about how spending a small percentage of the billions that went into the Olympics on providing more allotments would have done a great deal more for our national health than watching fat blokes throw lumps of lead. And the benefits would have lasted generations not weeks.
Monday, 7 April 2014
Several of Your 103 a Day
We love our fruit and veg in this household. I'd rather eat a mixed salad than a plate of chips, especially if they are the soggy ones that chip shops now seem to specialise in (what used to be a treat at the Norfolk seaside has become something to avoid of late).
It's just as well we like them, as our alternative eating programme (SC and I have both lost 9lb or so) majors on F&V. Even we would struggle under normal circs, however, to get to what one fears is rapidly heading towards a dietary requirement of 103 portions a day. It was scary, btw, to hear during the recent spate of stories about such intakes that many Brits, and not just the economically challenged, don't manage a single portion in their normal daily routine.
Yesterday's pudding stood us in good stead for some sort of campaign medal. As we were eating lamb (slow roast in a raised rack to let the fat drip out) as main I made a fruit salad for pud. Not something I do often, as childhood memories of tinned versions - nasty plasticky cherries and all - served up at school and on occasion at home have left a scar. This was all fresh - half a tray of blueberries that needed using up, ditto strawbs, some oranges and satsumas, grapes, apples... all in orange juice not the vile syrup that accompanied 1970s versions. It was so good we ended up drinking the remaining juice.
When you do the sums that treat - for such it was - cost I think less than a carton of the beloved Ben and Jerry's Phish Food ice cream. Say 90p for the blueberries, same for the strawbs, £1.30 for the citrus, 25p for the apple and 20p the grapes, then 30p the juice. So £3.85 for something really delicious that also made us feel a teensy bit virtuous. Or smug.
I have no intention of posting a video online, leaving the beneficial effects on ones digestion this morning to the imagination. And stating that we have no need of colonic irrigation here thanks very much. Too subtle?
It's just as well we like them, as our alternative eating programme (SC and I have both lost 9lb or so) majors on F&V. Even we would struggle under normal circs, however, to get to what one fears is rapidly heading towards a dietary requirement of 103 portions a day. It was scary, btw, to hear during the recent spate of stories about such intakes that many Brits, and not just the economically challenged, don't manage a single portion in their normal daily routine.
Yesterday's pudding stood us in good stead for some sort of campaign medal. As we were eating lamb (slow roast in a raised rack to let the fat drip out) as main I made a fruit salad for pud. Not something I do often, as childhood memories of tinned versions - nasty plasticky cherries and all - served up at school and on occasion at home have left a scar. This was all fresh - half a tray of blueberries that needed using up, ditto strawbs, some oranges and satsumas, grapes, apples... all in orange juice not the vile syrup that accompanied 1970s versions. It was so good we ended up drinking the remaining juice.
When you do the sums that treat - for such it was - cost I think less than a carton of the beloved Ben and Jerry's Phish Food ice cream. Say 90p for the blueberries, same for the strawbs, £1.30 for the citrus, 25p for the apple and 20p the grapes, then 30p the juice. So £3.85 for something really delicious that also made us feel a teensy bit virtuous. Or smug.
I have no intention of posting a video online, leaving the beneficial effects on ones digestion this morning to the imagination. And stating that we have no need of colonic irrigation here thanks very much. Too subtle?
Thursday, 3 April 2014
Austerity and Healthy Food
Over recent years one of the regular excuses voiced about poor eating habits is that healthy food costs more than unhealthy. Since we decided on our alternative eating programme [yes there is a deliberate hint of silliness in the name] I have made one major discovery in that regard: by spreading butter thinly, and almost banning it from cooking, one uses less and thus spends less. Who knew?
Same applies to oils and dressings. I think a general rule can be discerned here: if you use thus buy less of something, it is cheaper than buying and using lots.
As we are eating less meat and more veg, the sums are in our economic favour there too.
Last night's meal was pork tenderloin marinated in ginger, cumin, pepper and cassia bark all ground up, the six little slices (£3.15 for the piece) popped in a sealable bag with that mix and some scrunched up bay leaves and lime leaves from our own trees, then left in the fridge for about seven hours before being beaten with a mallet and griddled. Result: loads of flavour to make up for the relatively small amount. It was as the divine HFW says 'meat as spice.'
What was more important to the meal was the brown rice (I used to hate it, but this stuff is almost perfumed - and I swear it used to be browner, but then Wagon Wheels used to be bigger, and all this used to be fields too) served mixed in with a pile of lightly steamed veg - carrot, mange tout, frozen broccoli, ditto peas, ditto okra, doused in soy sauce and pepped up with five-spice. Say 35p for the rice, £1.65 for the veg and soy, so the meal for three of us £5.15. Not cheap, not dear.
I'll do the same thing without the meat next time, but adding a few mushrooms and more veg - a pepper, and definitely garlic. The substitutions would bring the cost down to about £3. Which to fill three stomachs healthily (three people rather than one ruminant - or do they have four?) seems like a bargain.
Same applies to oils and dressings. I think a general rule can be discerned here: if you use thus buy less of something, it is cheaper than buying and using lots.
As we are eating less meat and more veg, the sums are in our economic favour there too.
Last night's meal was pork tenderloin marinated in ginger, cumin, pepper and cassia bark all ground up, the six little slices (£3.15 for the piece) popped in a sealable bag with that mix and some scrunched up bay leaves and lime leaves from our own trees, then left in the fridge for about seven hours before being beaten with a mallet and griddled. Result: loads of flavour to make up for the relatively small amount. It was as the divine HFW says 'meat as spice.'
What was more important to the meal was the brown rice (I used to hate it, but this stuff is almost perfumed - and I swear it used to be browner, but then Wagon Wheels used to be bigger, and all this used to be fields too) served mixed in with a pile of lightly steamed veg - carrot, mange tout, frozen broccoli, ditto peas, ditto okra, doused in soy sauce and pepped up with five-spice. Say 35p for the rice, £1.65 for the veg and soy, so the meal for three of us £5.15. Not cheap, not dear.
I'll do the same thing without the meat next time, but adding a few mushrooms and more veg - a pepper, and definitely garlic. The substitutions would bring the cost down to about £3. Which to fill three stomachs healthily (three people rather than one ruminant - or do they have four?) seems like a bargain.
Wednesday, 18 September 2013
The Kindest Cut
Preparing various dishes recently has brought home how the way vegetables are cut affects their taste.
That's something most cooks will be aware of as regards garlic - whole it gives a mild and deep flavour, sliced thinly it is somehow sharper, smashed beneath a blade it's pungent and fiery.
But it applies to certain other foodstuffs too, for example raw beetroot: grated it seems sweeter by far than when it is cut into the old pound-coin slices which emphasize its earthy side, and made into tiny matchsticks (I have a device like a peeler with teeth that is a faff, but safer than a mandoline) the flavour is halfway between those two.
I am not sure if this is some chemical effect, like what happens with the crushing of the garlic, or perception, or how surface area to weight influences what we taste (grated you maximize the surface area). Something to bear in mind when making up salads though. My wife this morning took to work something on the sweet side, grated beetroot and apple, a boiled egg cut up, and walnuts, dressed with Helmann's.
The apple beet and egg were all home grown, sadly not the walnuts, though one day... We planted a tree here when we arrived in 2000, and it is at the very start of giving nuts now. One last year (one) and two this, all nicked by squirrels, the bastards. They didn't get our cobnuts this year though, I tried one this morning - sweet as a etc. Some of them will be in another salad tomorrow, cut into small pieces and mixed with cheese, diced apple and the thinnest slices of raw courgette. Diced apple is apple-ier than the supersweet grated flesh, sliced courgette is nutty, to blend with the cobnuts.
I think about food too much.
That's something most cooks will be aware of as regards garlic - whole it gives a mild and deep flavour, sliced thinly it is somehow sharper, smashed beneath a blade it's pungent and fiery.
But it applies to certain other foodstuffs too, for example raw beetroot: grated it seems sweeter by far than when it is cut into the old pound-coin slices which emphasize its earthy side, and made into tiny matchsticks (I have a device like a peeler with teeth that is a faff, but safer than a mandoline) the flavour is halfway between those two.
I am not sure if this is some chemical effect, like what happens with the crushing of the garlic, or perception, or how surface area to weight influences what we taste (grated you maximize the surface area). Something to bear in mind when making up salads though. My wife this morning took to work something on the sweet side, grated beetroot and apple, a boiled egg cut up, and walnuts, dressed with Helmann's.
The apple beet and egg were all home grown, sadly not the walnuts, though one day... We planted a tree here when we arrived in 2000, and it is at the very start of giving nuts now. One last year (one) and two this, all nicked by squirrels, the bastards. They didn't get our cobnuts this year though, I tried one this morning - sweet as a etc. Some of them will be in another salad tomorrow, cut into small pieces and mixed with cheese, diced apple and the thinnest slices of raw courgette. Diced apple is apple-ier than the supersweet grated flesh, sliced courgette is nutty, to blend with the cobnuts.
I think about food too much.
Friday, 21 December 2012
Secret Service Santa Stuff IV
Another in this blog's devastating revelations about the minds and activities of the celebrity chef. The world quakes. Again the signature on this thank you letter to Santa was illegible, but there are hints in the text that it could be someone I actually admire enormously. We may never know.
Dear Santa,
Here at Rubber Cabbage the Yuletide
feasting was as ever perfect, thanks in no small measure to you. How you got
past the ham from my own pig smoking in the chimney is beyond me. We love that
pig so much that we had its leg amputated under anasthetic and sent it hopping
happily back to the wilds of my estate. Delicious.
I can’t thank you enough for my Nobel
Prize for vegetables - common people on building sites and so on really should
know about them.
Throughout Christmas the
log fire crackled in the background wherever we were, even the bathroom.
Hundreds of friends dropped by for spontaneous private celebrations with special
home-brewed drinks prepared by some of my serfs, hastily foraged truffles and so
on, though they thought what I did was best. Happily by complete chance a
camera crew was present to record it all.
Thanks again old chap,
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