It is that time of year again, we are less than a month away from the Christmas dinner! A host (some heavenly some not) of food writers will be tell us how to have a stress free Christmas day with their easy recipes and methods. So here's the truth. Christmas dinner is just a roast dinner on a slightly larger scale. It may require a little more planning than your average Sunday fare but lets not get things out of all proportion here.
However it would be remiss of me not to offer some advice on how to produce the Yule feast in a relatively stress free way and on a reasonable budget.
So today I have two bits of advice for you:
1. If you have a lot of guests for the big day, order your meat now. Many years ago, the Beautiful Wife and I were planning to have a duck for the roast. I left it till the 24th to buy the bird and found myself trouping round the whole of North London to find one - not a particularly pleasant occupation on Christmas Eve,
2. Buy chestnuts now. They will be sold out when you go on the 20th to do your last shop. The vacuum packed ones are fine for the purpose of sprout re-invention.
Tuesday, 26 November 2013
Sunday, 13 October 2013
Sometimes it's not all about the food.
The beautiful wife is a Brown owl to a local brownie pack and last weekend was their annual pack holiday. It was a joy to see so many young people with healthy and unfussy appetites. In fact most of the Brownies ate adult portions and then came back for seconds. Fresh air, excitement and activity are wonderful sharpeners of the appetite. However, it is not the quality or quantity of the food or indeed the ferocity with which it was eaten which will stay with me from this weekend.
Sometimes you encounter a situation where you know instinctively that, for a few minutes, everything is "right". God is in his heaven, the stars are aligned, the fates are on your side, however you want to describe it. This sense of "right" is not a learned response, it comes from within, a sense of settled calm and comfort; you simply know that all is as good as it could possibly be in that moment. You also know that you would not choose to be anywhere else in the world.
On the Saturday evening the Brownies had a fireside picnic. At the Guiding centre where they stayed there was a fire pit on some open ground and the Brownies made their choice of sandwich grabbed a piece of fruit, a cake bar and a bag of crisps and headed out to sit around it and eat their Tupper (A cross between Tea and Supper, I'm told).
The adults managed the fire and sat on benches among the youngsters who, all in a circle tucked in. One of the Young Guiders, a 19 year old on a gap year, brought out a guitar and as soon as the food was finished she played and we all sang. The weather had been fine and there was the tiniest hint of autumn's chill but the fire soon saw that off and there we sat in the shadow of the beautiful Chiltern Hills. The most glorious sunset was taking place around us, lines of pink and blue and grey thrown across the sky. For one precious hour, everything was perfect, so perfect that it made me want to cry. Lifelong memories were made that evening and I, for one have never enjoyed a plain ham sandwich more.
Sometimes you encounter a situation where you know instinctively that, for a few minutes, everything is "right". God is in his heaven, the stars are aligned, the fates are on your side, however you want to describe it. This sense of "right" is not a learned response, it comes from within, a sense of settled calm and comfort; you simply know that all is as good as it could possibly be in that moment. You also know that you would not choose to be anywhere else in the world.
On the Saturday evening the Brownies had a fireside picnic. At the Guiding centre where they stayed there was a fire pit on some open ground and the Brownies made their choice of sandwich grabbed a piece of fruit, a cake bar and a bag of crisps and headed out to sit around it and eat their Tupper (A cross between Tea and Supper, I'm told).
The adults managed the fire and sat on benches among the youngsters who, all in a circle tucked in. One of the Young Guiders, a 19 year old on a gap year, brought out a guitar and as soon as the food was finished she played and we all sang. The weather had been fine and there was the tiniest hint of autumn's chill but the fire soon saw that off and there we sat in the shadow of the beautiful Chiltern Hills. The most glorious sunset was taking place around us, lines of pink and blue and grey thrown across the sky. For one precious hour, everything was perfect, so perfect that it made me want to cry. Lifelong memories were made that evening and I, for one have never enjoyed a plain ham sandwich more.
Wednesday, 18 September 2013
.....mellow fruitfullness....
I have always loved this time of year. As a child, whilst September meant the end of the summer holidays it also meant the start of the rugby season and I considered that was a fair price to pay for spending hours working my way through Chaucer or drawing Ox-bow lakes. If early spring is the hungry period then surely late summer is the period of full bellies. There is an abundance of food available at this time of year, some of it is even free (think blackberries). But September can be a month of contradictions. The two photos above illustrate this point perfectly: The tomatoes were picked from the tiny garden of Corner Cottage and they are to me the symbol of a fine summer yet it was so chilly last night that the only option was toad in the hole!
Monday, 12 August 2013
Preserving the summer to eat in the winter.
My mum hails from the Northeast and whilst living in the South for 55 years has softened the accent it has not changed that region's unending ability to understate almost anything.
So, when we arrived and were told to pick the remainder of the blackcurrants, redcurrants and goosberries left in the garden, I felt a slight feeling of diquiet. "There can't be very many left" she asserted.
A few hours later and having avoided the wasps and the rather agressive gooseberry thorns I returned to the kitchen with4lbs of blackcurrants, over 3lbs of gooseberries and just under 2lbs of redcurrants.
On our return to Corner Cottage I set to with the fruit and some sugar. We now have four jars of gooseberry jam, 9 jars of blackcurrant jam and 2 jars of redcurrant jelly. Adding this haul of conserves to a couple of jars of raspberry jam made earlier in the summer and we are set until next summer arrives.
Sunday, 11 August 2013
The joy of the summer holiday
One of the great joys of being a teacher is the summer holidays. They are not quite as long as they seemed when we were young but they do provide a proper break from the battle to educate. One of the nicest aspects of this time off is the fact that it provides the opportunity to take lunch rather than grabbing lunch. For the beautiful wife an I this is often some homemade bread and a lump of pate or maybe some cheese. This is sometimes accompanied with a salad or two and followed by fruit. There is no better way to use up cold cuts from a roast or any over left overs than an idle lunch which is not limited by time. We have been working hard in the garden at Corner Cottage during the last few weeks so lunch has been taken at any time from 11.45 to 3pm.
A few days ago I made the following recipe for lunch. It's based on an idea from the food phenomenon that is Rick Stien.
Take five or six ripe tomatoes and cut them in half. Place them on a baking sheet and smear some finely chopped garlic on the cut side of the toms. Season them well and pop them in a low to medium oven and allow them to dry in the heat. After about an hour they should look like jelly when gently squeezed with a pair of tongs. (Do not do this with your fingers, the juice of the tomatoes will be hotter than the sun!) Take the toms out of the oven and allow them to cool a little. Take a sheet of puff pastry and roll it to the same size as a heavy baking sheet. Cut a magin around the outside of the pastry without cutting completely through the pastry. Place all of the toms on the inner area of the the pastry and sprinkle over a blue crumbly cheese. Bake in a medium oven until the pastry is cooked and the cheese is all melted. Cut up into "hungry man" slices and serve with salad.
A few days ago I made the following recipe for lunch. It's based on an idea from the food phenomenon that is Rick Stien.
Take five or six ripe tomatoes and cut them in half. Place them on a baking sheet and smear some finely chopped garlic on the cut side of the toms. Season them well and pop them in a low to medium oven and allow them to dry in the heat. After about an hour they should look like jelly when gently squeezed with a pair of tongs. (Do not do this with your fingers, the juice of the tomatoes will be hotter than the sun!) Take the toms out of the oven and allow them to cool a little. Take a sheet of puff pastry and roll it to the same size as a heavy baking sheet. Cut a magin around the outside of the pastry without cutting completely through the pastry. Place all of the toms on the inner area of the the pastry and sprinkle over a blue crumbly cheese. Bake in a medium oven until the pastry is cooked and the cheese is all melted. Cut up into "hungry man" slices and serve with salad.
Wednesday, 17 July 2013
Long time no write...
It has been a while since I have written and there is so much to write about! So in the next two or three weeks I will write more but many of my blogs may be shorter as a consequence. The Academic year is drawing to a close and this leaves those of us who teach in a position of looking forward to six weeks of holiday. I love teaching and couldn't see myself doing anything else but the idea of being able to get up (at a reasonable hour), go shopping (somewhere nice) and then spending the late morning producing something lovely for lunch is very appealing at the moment.
A couple of weeks ago I visited the Haddenham Vale Harvest market (First Saturday of every month) and picked up two products that blew my socks off!
The first was a pack of sausages from Orchard View Farm - The initial idea was to promote these sausages to the role of Toads and pop them in their respective Holes but the weather has been so hot of late that the idea of Toad in the Hole covered in onion gravy was not as appealing as it might have been in January. They ended up sliced, still hot and cast over a salad of leaves and beetroot (from the Kitchengardener's (AKA The Mmusician) plot. Incidentally, he has recently joined the blogosphere and writes about his vegetable adventures. Just because I had some in I threw some chunks of feta over the salad and dribbled over a lemony dressing. With all these flavours going on, the sausages still stole the show. The rebirth of the British sausage has been gathering pace over the last few years and long may it continue!
The second product was some UK made Bresaola from the guys at Egg House Charcuterie. This was not what was expected at all. For those of you who expect your bresaola to be even coloured, circular and wrapped in cling film this is not for you (Which means all the more for me!). These were beautiful, delicate strips of Hereford beef full of real beef flavour. The term "melt in the mouth" is overused and had become a bit of a cliche in recent years, but this beautiful meat did melt in the mouth leaving a long and gentle flavour on the palate - fabulous! What's more the beef grew up within a few miles of Corner Cottage.
I hope this market is a success for the stallholders because I, for one, would happily see it turn into a fortnightly or even weekly event. The fact that it is a half hour walk from Corner Cottage makes it the perfect Saturday morning adventure.
A couple of weeks ago I visited the Haddenham Vale Harvest market (First Saturday of every month) and picked up two products that blew my socks off!
The first was a pack of sausages from Orchard View Farm - The initial idea was to promote these sausages to the role of Toads and pop them in their respective Holes but the weather has been so hot of late that the idea of Toad in the Hole covered in onion gravy was not as appealing as it might have been in January. They ended up sliced, still hot and cast over a salad of leaves and beetroot (from the Kitchengardener's (AKA The Mmusician) plot. Incidentally, he has recently joined the blogosphere and writes about his vegetable adventures. Just because I had some in I threw some chunks of feta over the salad and dribbled over a lemony dressing. With all these flavours going on, the sausages still stole the show. The rebirth of the British sausage has been gathering pace over the last few years and long may it continue!
The second product was some UK made Bresaola from the guys at Egg House Charcuterie. This was not what was expected at all. For those of you who expect your bresaola to be even coloured, circular and wrapped in cling film this is not for you (Which means all the more for me!). These were beautiful, delicate strips of Hereford beef full of real beef flavour. The term "melt in the mouth" is overused and had become a bit of a cliche in recent years, but this beautiful meat did melt in the mouth leaving a long and gentle flavour on the palate - fabulous! What's more the beef grew up within a few miles of Corner Cottage.
I hope this market is a success for the stallholders because I, for one, would happily see it turn into a fortnightly or even weekly event. The fact that it is a half hour walk from Corner Cottage makes it the perfect Saturday morning adventure.
Friday, 21 June 2013
"Not for the likes of us..."
My name is The Cook and I am Middle class. There we are, I’ve admitted it. I am a graduate who works in a salaried profession. I am the son of a Teacher and a Master Mariner and I went to a minor Public (Meaning “private” for those who don’t speak fluent UK education systemeese – mad I know!) school. Just to re-enforce my Middle class credentials all four of my Grandparents were clearly Working class. Aspirational social climbers or what?
In truth I’m not entirely sure that the terms - Working class and Middle class mean much unless they are used to argue a social or political point which carries no other justification. What I do know is that income and, what most people would call, class are inescapably linked.
I came across some statistics recently that set me thinking. Between 2007 and 2011 a period of economic instability and recessions, those in the lowest 10% of income dropped their spending on fresh fruit by 15%, on fresh vegetables by 12% and increased their spending on “non carcass meat” (i.e. processed meats) by 14%, cheese by 7% and, most surprisingly of all their spend on confectionary went up by 5%. I found these numbers more than a little bit worrying. The one strange number in this report was that the same group had increased their spending on flour by 20%. I would like to think that this was caused by a massive national increase in bread making but I suspect it had more to do with the increase in the cost of flour. (Statistics are taken from the DEFRA publication “Food Statistics Pocket Book”)
The new food movements are often criticised for being the preserve of the middle class, inaccessible to those on a low income and, when I look around Farmers’ markets or even Borough Market, it is hard not to agree. These places throng with those who have a reasonable disposable income and, in the words of their critics, can afford to care where their food comes from.
The questions we need to ask ourselves is “Why is high quality, sustainable, ethical food not available to all?” and “What are the barriers to those on a low income enjoying the benefits of the slow and sure move towards more sensible food production?”
My Grandmother, a working class woman if ever there was, would no more think of buying a ready meal than of flying unaided but she always fed my Grandfather (a Foundry worker)well through the depression and through wartime rationing. They were, for most of their lives, on a very low income. Grandad would turn up to work and only then find out, at the foundry gate, if he was needed for that day. Incidentally, in her later years, by dint of very sensible financial opportunities taken, she had a substantial disposable income but she would still buy sweets from the Jar by the quarter pound - “I’m not paying for all those wrappers” she would say.
Many observers would point to the fact that many of those on a low income lack the skills and knowledge to cook from scratch and there is more than a grain of truth here but it is not just those on a low income who cannot make a simple meal. As a nation, we are increasingly regarding cooking as a spectator sport. It is aparently fine to watch chefs and cooks who have come from very different backgrounds cooking healthy and delicious meals from sustainable, seasonal ingredients and not then expect anyone to cook with love and invention for those who they are feeding - much better to reach for the ready meal made goodnesss only knows where containing goodness only knows what. This is not a class or income issue this is an issue of national culture.
Formal education has a part to play – first we need to take Food out of the Technology syllabus and use the fabulous Food (Technology) teachers we have in nearly every school in the country as the awesome resource that they are. These are people who love food so much that they have decided to make a career out of helping others to cook and feed themselves. We need to set these teachers free to teach about the love of food as well as the technical aspects like nutrition and food safety.
In combination with this we need to re-engage with our food history. We have an amazingly rich food heritage in this country and we need to tap into this or it will be lost. There must be a weath of people (of a "certain" age) in the UK with the knowledge and skills to cook well which will be lost as they pass away.
Finally a return to an understanding of seasonality would mean that we not only get more local produce but we would get it at its best and at its least expensive. You really don't need stawberries at Christmas, and if you do want to eat them at Christmas, make jam or better still, a Rumtopf.
This is all acheivable and will cost less than the Public Relations bill after the next food scandal.
If you still believe that some outdated notion of "class" is the barrier to enjoying real food and engaging with the growing passion for knowing about what we eat then I just need to mention one name: Natalie Coleman. This young woman is brilliant, a self taught cook and self confessed "proper cockney" who has recently won Masterchef ("The quest to find Britain's best amateur chef"). She cooked with passion, sophistication, skill and love, oh, and did I mention she was brilliant!
In truth I’m not entirely sure that the terms - Working class and Middle class mean much unless they are used to argue a social or political point which carries no other justification. What I do know is that income and, what most people would call, class are inescapably linked.
I came across some statistics recently that set me thinking. Between 2007 and 2011 a period of economic instability and recessions, those in the lowest 10% of income dropped their spending on fresh fruit by 15%, on fresh vegetables by 12% and increased their spending on “non carcass meat” (i.e. processed meats) by 14%, cheese by 7% and, most surprisingly of all their spend on confectionary went up by 5%. I found these numbers more than a little bit worrying. The one strange number in this report was that the same group had increased their spending on flour by 20%. I would like to think that this was caused by a massive national increase in bread making but I suspect it had more to do with the increase in the cost of flour. (Statistics are taken from the DEFRA publication “Food Statistics Pocket Book”)
The new food movements are often criticised for being the preserve of the middle class, inaccessible to those on a low income and, when I look around Farmers’ markets or even Borough Market, it is hard not to agree. These places throng with those who have a reasonable disposable income and, in the words of their critics, can afford to care where their food comes from.
The questions we need to ask ourselves is “Why is high quality, sustainable, ethical food not available to all?” and “What are the barriers to those on a low income enjoying the benefits of the slow and sure move towards more sensible food production?”
My Grandmother, a working class woman if ever there was, would no more think of buying a ready meal than of flying unaided but she always fed my Grandfather (a Foundry worker)well through the depression and through wartime rationing. They were, for most of their lives, on a very low income. Grandad would turn up to work and only then find out, at the foundry gate, if he was needed for that day. Incidentally, in her later years, by dint of very sensible financial opportunities taken, she had a substantial disposable income but she would still buy sweets from the Jar by the quarter pound - “I’m not paying for all those wrappers” she would say.
Many observers would point to the fact that many of those on a low income lack the skills and knowledge to cook from scratch and there is more than a grain of truth here but it is not just those on a low income who cannot make a simple meal. As a nation, we are increasingly regarding cooking as a spectator sport. It is aparently fine to watch chefs and cooks who have come from very different backgrounds cooking healthy and delicious meals from sustainable, seasonal ingredients and not then expect anyone to cook with love and invention for those who they are feeding - much better to reach for the ready meal made goodnesss only knows where containing goodness only knows what. This is not a class or income issue this is an issue of national culture.
Formal education has a part to play – first we need to take Food out of the Technology syllabus and use the fabulous Food (Technology) teachers we have in nearly every school in the country as the awesome resource that they are. These are people who love food so much that they have decided to make a career out of helping others to cook and feed themselves. We need to set these teachers free to teach about the love of food as well as the technical aspects like nutrition and food safety.
In combination with this we need to re-engage with our food history. We have an amazingly rich food heritage in this country and we need to tap into this or it will be lost. There must be a weath of people (of a "certain" age) in the UK with the knowledge and skills to cook well which will be lost as they pass away.
Finally a return to an understanding of seasonality would mean that we not only get more local produce but we would get it at its best and at its least expensive. You really don't need stawberries at Christmas, and if you do want to eat them at Christmas, make jam or better still, a Rumtopf.
This is all acheivable and will cost less than the Public Relations bill after the next food scandal.
If you still believe that some outdated notion of "class" is the barrier to enjoying real food and engaging with the growing passion for knowing about what we eat then I just need to mention one name: Natalie Coleman. This young woman is brilliant, a self taught cook and self confessed "proper cockney" who has recently won Masterchef ("The quest to find Britain's best amateur chef"). She cooked with passion, sophistication, skill and love, oh, and did I mention she was brilliant!
Sunday, 2 June 2013
The fridge
By the end of the week I like to have my fridge almost empty. By Friday afternoon I like opening the door and seeing a pack of yeast, a bottle of milk and not a great deal else. Friday is the time that the beautiful wife and I plan our meals for the week ahead. We follow this by doing our grocery shopping on Friday evening. With the veg box arriving on Friday and my meat and fish shopping done on Saturday morning the fridge is full of possibility by Saturday lunchtime.
Today is the last day of Half term and those of us who serve at the chalk face will return to school tomorrow - The week ahead is already planned in terms of meals and by Friday the fridge will once again be empty. Yesterday was the Vale Harvest at Haddenham again and sitting waiting for this evening is a beautiful piece of topside from Oving Dexters which will be roasted with a beetroot from The Musician's smallholding (where I sometimes lend a hand), some new potatoes and onions (from the Abel and Cole veg box). This will be served with carrots (veg Box) and cabbage (Musician's). Nothing in this meal has anything but the best credentials ethically and none (I really mean none) will go to waste.
My fridge (apart from on Friday mornings) nearly always has bacon in it and the pack at present is from Orchard View Farm just 3 or 4 miles down the road. I have mentioned this supplier before - their Black Pudding is a thing of great beauty.
I have a couple bottles of beer from XT brewery to have with my beef tonight. I'm not sure if I am sad or happy in the knowledge taht by Friday the fridge will be bare.
Today is the last day of Half term and those of us who serve at the chalk face will return to school tomorrow - The week ahead is already planned in terms of meals and by Friday the fridge will once again be empty. Yesterday was the Vale Harvest at Haddenham again and sitting waiting for this evening is a beautiful piece of topside from Oving Dexters which will be roasted with a beetroot from The Musician's smallholding (where I sometimes lend a hand), some new potatoes and onions (from the Abel and Cole veg box). This will be served with carrots (veg Box) and cabbage (Musician's). Nothing in this meal has anything but the best credentials ethically and none (I really mean none) will go to waste.
My fridge (apart from on Friday mornings) nearly always has bacon in it and the pack at present is from Orchard View Farm just 3 or 4 miles down the road. I have mentioned this supplier before - their Black Pudding is a thing of great beauty.
I have a couple bottles of beer from XT brewery to have with my beef tonight. I'm not sure if I am sad or happy in the knowledge taht by Friday the fridge will be bare.
Monday, 6 May 2013
Vale Harvest at Haddenham
I visited the Vale Harvest market in Haddenham on Saturday morning - what a revelation!
This is a quote from their website -
Vale Harvest is a group of local food producers within a 10 mile radius of Haddenham and the immediate area. They say "Our aim is to make it easier for local people to connect with local produce. The markets will host a range of stalls selling hot and cold food and drink to have there and to take home." Stalls selling some of the following will be there (rain or shine): free-range lamb and pork; cupcakes and ice cream; fresh bread and eggs; sausages and charcuterie; jam and chutney; fresh herbs and vegetables; cider and apple juice; hand-made chocolates; Oriental sauces and food; Chiltern rapeseed oil; Italian sauces and lasagne.
It was a wonderful market with meats from local suppliers. I purchased some black pudding from Orchard view farm and some Bacon and Sausages from the Egghouse Butchery and Charcuterie who also supplied me with a cheeky bag of little sausage rolls (they did not last very long at all). I also bought an equally cheeky couple of bottles of beer from the XT Brewery.
I plan to buy a "lump" of Dexter beef next month.
The real joy, however, comes from the fact that I can comfortably walk from my front door to this market in about half an hour. Bring on the first Saturday of every month!
This is a quote from their website -
Vale Harvest is a group of local food producers within a 10 mile radius of Haddenham and the immediate area. They say "Our aim is to make it easier for local people to connect with local produce. The markets will host a range of stalls selling hot and cold food and drink to have there and to take home." Stalls selling some of the following will be there (rain or shine): free-range lamb and pork; cupcakes and ice cream; fresh bread and eggs; sausages and charcuterie; jam and chutney; fresh herbs and vegetables; cider and apple juice; hand-made chocolates; Oriental sauces and food; Chiltern rapeseed oil; Italian sauces and lasagne.
It was a wonderful market with meats from local suppliers. I purchased some black pudding from Orchard view farm and some Bacon and Sausages from the Egghouse Butchery and Charcuterie who also supplied me with a cheeky bag of little sausage rolls (they did not last very long at all). I also bought an equally cheeky couple of bottles of beer from the XT Brewery.
I plan to buy a "lump" of Dexter beef next month.
The real joy, however, comes from the fact that I can comfortably walk from my front door to this market in about half an hour. Bring on the first Saturday of every month!
Friday, 3 May 2013
So about this bread making thing...
This should really carry a warning. Making your own bread can become addictive. I have been asked to give my standard bread recipe out on this blog so here goes.
500 gms strong bread flour (the better the flour, the better the bread)
350 gms of water (yes I do mean gms)
10 gms salt (the better the salt....)
10 gms fresh yeast (ask at your local independent baker)
Crumble the yeast into the flour, pour in the water and get your hands in there. Mix with a hand (held like a claw) for a few seconds and then add the salt. Bring the whole together to form a dough (the bowl should come cleanish).
Now for the kneading. Everyone develops their own style; mine is based on a method used by Richard Bertinet (who is a bit of a bread god). I push the dough down on the surface (no extra flour needed) and pull the dough towards me. I then fold this back over the dough, pick it up from the bottom and do the same process again with an occasional turn. It is very obvious when the dough is ready - I know it sounds mad, but it just starts to feel alive.
Her come's the trick. I use a heavy earthenware bown bowl which I now fill with clean hot water. After a few minutes I empty this water (I use it for washing up) and dry the bown completely. A little flour is sprinkled into the bowl and the dough placed on top of this. I cover the bowl with cling film, "Spaghetti Western tight."*
This is then placed in a warm area to rise for and hour or longer - it needs to be twice the size that it started.
After the rise, I tip the dough out and shape it as I require. I then sprinkle it with flour and gently lay the clingfilm over the top. I leave this for another hour.
The oven is popped on hot (220 ish) and a roasting dish of water is placed in the bottom. A couple of slashes with a scalpel are made in the top of the bread and it is placed in the oven.
This is where the judgement is required - Take the bread out when it is ready (slightly darker than you think) and allow to cool on a rack.
* Whenever, in Spaghetti Westerns, the director wished to give a sense that native Americans ("INJUNS") were about there was a sound of drums. This is what the cling film should sound like when you tap it.
I have been asked about which books on bread making I like and here they are -
Dough, by Richard Bertinet, ISBN 978 1 85626 762 5
The Fabulous Baker Brothers, by Henry and Tom Herbert, ISBN 978 0 7553 6365 0
Bread, by Paul Hollywood, ISBN 978 1 4088 4069 6
All of these books will teach you how to make a basic loaf (and more besides) and once you have that sorted the world is your bakery.
500 gms strong bread flour (the better the flour, the better the bread)
350 gms of water (yes I do mean gms)
10 gms salt (the better the salt....)
10 gms fresh yeast (ask at your local independent baker)
Crumble the yeast into the flour, pour in the water and get your hands in there. Mix with a hand (held like a claw) for a few seconds and then add the salt. Bring the whole together to form a dough (the bowl should come cleanish).
Now for the kneading. Everyone develops their own style; mine is based on a method used by Richard Bertinet (who is a bit of a bread god). I push the dough down on the surface (no extra flour needed) and pull the dough towards me. I then fold this back over the dough, pick it up from the bottom and do the same process again with an occasional turn. It is very obvious when the dough is ready - I know it sounds mad, but it just starts to feel alive.
Her come's the trick. I use a heavy earthenware bown bowl which I now fill with clean hot water. After a few minutes I empty this water (I use it for washing up) and dry the bown completely. A little flour is sprinkled into the bowl and the dough placed on top of this. I cover the bowl with cling film, "Spaghetti Western tight."*
This is then placed in a warm area to rise for and hour or longer - it needs to be twice the size that it started.
After the rise, I tip the dough out and shape it as I require. I then sprinkle it with flour and gently lay the clingfilm over the top. I leave this for another hour.
The oven is popped on hot (220 ish) and a roasting dish of water is placed in the bottom. A couple of slashes with a scalpel are made in the top of the bread and it is placed in the oven.
This is where the judgement is required - Take the bread out when it is ready (slightly darker than you think) and allow to cool on a rack.
* Whenever, in Spaghetti Westerns, the director wished to give a sense that native Americans ("INJUNS") were about there was a sound of drums. This is what the cling film should sound like when you tap it.
I have been asked about which books on bread making I like and here they are -
Dough, by Richard Bertinet, ISBN 978 1 85626 762 5
The Fabulous Baker Brothers, by Henry and Tom Herbert, ISBN 978 0 7553 6365 0
Bread, by Paul Hollywood, ISBN 978 1 4088 4069 6
All of these books will teach you how to make a basic loaf (and more besides) and once you have that sorted the world is your bakery.
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
Bread
Baking bread is one of my greatest pleasures. I came to it quite recently and many of my first attempts were quite disastrous but with perseverance and lots of background reading things have improved. It is perfectly possible to produce an artisan bloomer, organic and ethical, delicious and wholesome for under £1.
Bread plays such an important part in our culture - "we break bread" when we eat together why would you trust something like that to a plastic bag?
Here are a couple of picks from the weekend -
Bread plays such an important part in our culture - "we break bread" when we eat together why would you trust something like that to a plastic bag?
Here are a couple of picks from the weekend -
Sunday, 21 April 2013
Boston Beans 2
Pictures as promised. The beans were served today on English muffins with a fried egg on top!
Saturday, 20 April 2013
How dare they?
To run a marathon is one of the great feats of human endeavour. It requires courage, determination, commitment, dedication and an enormous amount of old fashioned graft. For some people it is a triumph over problems of disability or illness, for many its an opportunity to raise money for a charity which deals with problems that have affected them or their loved ones. Finishing a marathon is a personal triumph for anybody who has done it, from the elite athletes to the fun rummer who wants to push their boundaries. In short, it represents the best of humanity, the ability to reach that bit further than our boundaries and in doing so, destroy the idea that there are any boundaries at all.
To attack the Boston Marathon is not just to attack the US (though it is, without doubt that too). It is an attack on the very things which make us human, the things which show the comforting fact that the human race always seems to be able to rise to its challenges. The fact that the goodness that is there within humanity so often falls short of the mark and fails is only testament to how often people are prepared to try and achieve what seems to be impossible.
This Sunday is the day of the London marathon, all the runners will be wearing black ribbons; a message from the largest mass marathon to the oldest that to achieve this incredible feat is to show your humanity written large and to go beyond the boundaries.
The attack will, of course, achieve none of its stated aims, there is far too much revulsion for that but in a salute to that most American of Cities please find below my recipe for Smokey Boston beans.
Smokey Boston Beans
150 gms Smoked Streaky (of fatty back) bacon. (I used Long Crendon Black from Newitts of Thame)
1 Onion
2 Fat cloves of garlic
400 gms Tin of plum tomatoes
Good slug of Worcestershire Sauce*
1 tsp Smoked paprika
1 tsp Powdered mustard*
1 tsp Dark sugar
1 tsp Golden Syrup (though you could use maple syrup for a real New England touch)
400 gms Tin of Haricot beans (Also known as Boston Navy Beans)
2 tsp Tomato puree
Chop the bacon into small pieces and pop it in a saucepan over a medium heat to begin to cook. When the bacon is starting to take colour, add the onions and continue to cook. After a few minutes, when the onions are softening, add the finely chopped garlic. This needs (and I mean "needs") to be cooked until everything is soft and sweet (about 5 minutes). Add the tomatoes, paprika, mustard, sugar, syrup,and Worcestershire sauce. bring to the boil and gently simmer, stirring often, until all the tomatoes are all broken down and you have a glossy sauce.
Add the beans and warm through. thicken with the tomato puree. Serve over real toast, perhaps with a fried egg on top. See photo from tomorrow's breakfast.
*now I'm aware that I appear to have some American readers and I'm also aware that this is probably not an authentic rendering of a Boston Beans recipe for that you have have my apologies. There are, however, two things which need to be sorted.
1. English mustard is well worth seeking out if you can. It will take you head off with its heat but its so amazing as a flavour.
2. Wocestershire is pronounced "wus-ter-shur" I know this is mad but I promise you its true!
To attack the Boston Marathon is not just to attack the US (though it is, without doubt that too). It is an attack on the very things which make us human, the things which show the comforting fact that the human race always seems to be able to rise to its challenges. The fact that the goodness that is there within humanity so often falls short of the mark and fails is only testament to how often people are prepared to try and achieve what seems to be impossible.
This Sunday is the day of the London marathon, all the runners will be wearing black ribbons; a message from the largest mass marathon to the oldest that to achieve this incredible feat is to show your humanity written large and to go beyond the boundaries.
The attack will, of course, achieve none of its stated aims, there is far too much revulsion for that but in a salute to that most American of Cities please find below my recipe for Smokey Boston beans.
Smokey Boston Beans
150 gms Smoked Streaky (of fatty back) bacon. (I used Long Crendon Black from Newitts of Thame)
1 Onion
2 Fat cloves of garlic
400 gms Tin of plum tomatoes
Good slug of Worcestershire Sauce*
1 tsp Smoked paprika
1 tsp Powdered mustard*
1 tsp Dark sugar
1 tsp Golden Syrup (though you could use maple syrup for a real New England touch)
400 gms Tin of Haricot beans (Also known as Boston Navy Beans)
2 tsp Tomato puree
Chop the bacon into small pieces and pop it in a saucepan over a medium heat to begin to cook. When the bacon is starting to take colour, add the onions and continue to cook. After a few minutes, when the onions are softening, add the finely chopped garlic. This needs (and I mean "needs") to be cooked until everything is soft and sweet (about 5 minutes). Add the tomatoes, paprika, mustard, sugar, syrup,and Worcestershire sauce. bring to the boil and gently simmer, stirring often, until all the tomatoes are all broken down and you have a glossy sauce.
Add the beans and warm through. thicken with the tomato puree. Serve over real toast, perhaps with a fried egg on top. See photo from tomorrow's breakfast.
*now I'm aware that I appear to have some American readers and I'm also aware that this is probably not an authentic rendering of a Boston Beans recipe for that you have have my apologies. There are, however, two things which need to be sorted.
1. English mustard is well worth seeking out if you can. It will take you head off with its heat but its so amazing as a flavour.
2. Wocestershire is pronounced "wus-ter-shur" I know this is mad but I promise you its true!
Friday, 29 March 2013
One a penny, two a penny......
.... Hot Cross Buns!
As I sit here typing on the first day of the Easter School Holidays (yipee!), my little house is filled with the smell of mixed spice, yeast, citrus and baking. I am making my own Hot Cross Buns. Now I'm afraid its time for a bit of a rant here:
Historically Good Friday was the most sombre of all the days in the Christian calender. A true Sabbath. Shops did not open and people had a quiet calm day.
Before I go on I must state I consider myself only culturally Christian - I sing in a church choir, I love the poetry of many Bible readings and I try to live my life by a pretty Christian ethos but as for faith and such I'm still not sure.
The only shop that would open on Good Friday was the bakers and they would only open for a few hours and only to sell Hot Cross Buns. (For those who do not speak fluent English Culinary delights, Hot Cross Buns are a spiced bread tea cake with a white pastry cross across the middle traditionally eaten from Good Friday through the Easter season) Many bakers would have a queue around the block for these treats after the abstinence of Lent.
Now here's the ranty bit! Why must these treats be on sale, not only for 5 weeks before Easter, but all year round? Take the cross off and serve tea cakes instead. We need as human beings to mark the passing of time in ways other than our pay packets.
The "Me, mine, my, NOW!" culture is destroying our appreciation of time passing. For those who have forgotten, the asparagus season (yes it does have a season) is traditionally from St Georges day until midsummer day, and no, we don't need them on our Christmas table.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could build up with increasing excitement to the first English Strawberry of the season and be sure in the knowledge that there would still be some Scottish raspberries available as the nights started to close in.
Its not just about eating seasonal produce its about marking the year with wonderful treats and food moments to savour. Who knows, we could introduce a whole generation of young people to the joy of a runner bean picked five minutes before it hits the hot water, or the tart sweetness of the first bramble of the late summer. I may just be dreaming but I hope that with the new food movements around the country and the desire for real, sustainable, tasty food that doesn't destroy the planet, blows our taste buds into new dimensions and reconnects us with the passing of time. Now that's something I can put some faith into.
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
Ecclesiastes 3:1
As I sit here typing on the first day of the Easter School Holidays (yipee!), my little house is filled with the smell of mixed spice, yeast, citrus and baking. I am making my own Hot Cross Buns. Now I'm afraid its time for a bit of a rant here:
Historically Good Friday was the most sombre of all the days in the Christian calender. A true Sabbath. Shops did not open and people had a quiet calm day.
Before I go on I must state I consider myself only culturally Christian - I sing in a church choir, I love the poetry of many Bible readings and I try to live my life by a pretty Christian ethos but as for faith and such I'm still not sure.
The only shop that would open on Good Friday was the bakers and they would only open for a few hours and only to sell Hot Cross Buns. (For those who do not speak fluent English Culinary delights, Hot Cross Buns are a spiced bread tea cake with a white pastry cross across the middle traditionally eaten from Good Friday through the Easter season) Many bakers would have a queue around the block for these treats after the abstinence of Lent.
Now here's the ranty bit! Why must these treats be on sale, not only for 5 weeks before Easter, but all year round? Take the cross off and serve tea cakes instead. We need as human beings to mark the passing of time in ways other than our pay packets.
The "Me, mine, my, NOW!" culture is destroying our appreciation of time passing. For those who have forgotten, the asparagus season (yes it does have a season) is traditionally from St Georges day until midsummer day, and no, we don't need them on our Christmas table.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could build up with increasing excitement to the first English Strawberry of the season and be sure in the knowledge that there would still be some Scottish raspberries available as the nights started to close in.
Its not just about eating seasonal produce its about marking the year with wonderful treats and food moments to savour. Who knows, we could introduce a whole generation of young people to the joy of a runner bean picked five minutes before it hits the hot water, or the tart sweetness of the first bramble of the late summer. I may just be dreaming but I hope that with the new food movements around the country and the desire for real, sustainable, tasty food that doesn't destroy the planet, blows our taste buds into new dimensions and reconnects us with the passing of time. Now that's something I can put some faith into.
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
Ecclesiastes 3:1
Saturday, 16 February 2013
I hate to say I told you so but....
Sometimes it is best to wait before making a comment, see what transpires before you decide to follow a certain line of thought. I cannot, however, hold back any longer the time has come for me to pass comment on the whole horse meat saga.
There are two real aspects of this: The eating of horse and the fact that many people did not know they were eating anything other than beef.
There is no major problem, morally or environmentally with eating horse instead of beef. It is miles away from the British cultural register but, in essence there is not a health issue. Though passing off some meats as other meats which certain cultures and religions do not eat is despicable. Again, it probably doesn't offer a major physical health problem but to ride roughshod over people's religious conscience is an act of shameful profiteering, devoid of morals or decency.
Not knowing what we are eating is a much larger problem. If we insist on sourcing meat from all over Europe and moving it from country to country before packaging it in some kind of mince based product, then there is so much room for problems to occur that we really should not be surprised.
Meat has become a commodity, traded internationally without any consideration for quality or safety. Somewhere in the tangled chain of supply somebody must have known that this was not beef, but horse. The two meats are similar but not indistinguishable. Horse is much leaner than beef and has a different texture, any butcher with any skills or experience would spot the difference. There is no doubt that there have been, at best, many acts of deliberate ignorance if not criminality.
If you cannot cook, owing to lack of ability or time then, of course, the ready meal is the way to feed yourself and those you love. The answer, however, is not to buy the cheapest option available. Buy your ready meals from people who make in small batches (this means that the meal is made by a person in a kitchen, not by a machine in a factory). If it is not clear where the ingredients have come from, ask and keep asking till you get an answer that satisfies you.
In the broader picture we need to ask who is in control of our food supply and hold them to account at every turn. I shall say it again for all those who are listening - Eat less meat, eat better quality meat, buy meat from a butcher if you can and treat meat as something very precious.
On a more positive note, a couple of weekend's ago the Beautiful Wife was on a course in Tetbury in the Cotswolds and I went with her to enjoy the foody joys of this area. I now have a Hobbs House Sourdough ferment and, as I type my second loaf from this "starter" is in the oven, filling the house with wonderful smells.
There are two real aspects of this: The eating of horse and the fact that many people did not know they were eating anything other than beef.
There is no major problem, morally or environmentally with eating horse instead of beef. It is miles away from the British cultural register but, in essence there is not a health issue. Though passing off some meats as other meats which certain cultures and religions do not eat is despicable. Again, it probably doesn't offer a major physical health problem but to ride roughshod over people's religious conscience is an act of shameful profiteering, devoid of morals or decency.
Not knowing what we are eating is a much larger problem. If we insist on sourcing meat from all over Europe and moving it from country to country before packaging it in some kind of mince based product, then there is so much room for problems to occur that we really should not be surprised.
Meat has become a commodity, traded internationally without any consideration for quality or safety. Somewhere in the tangled chain of supply somebody must have known that this was not beef, but horse. The two meats are similar but not indistinguishable. Horse is much leaner than beef and has a different texture, any butcher with any skills or experience would spot the difference. There is no doubt that there have been, at best, many acts of deliberate ignorance if not criminality.
If you cannot cook, owing to lack of ability or time then, of course, the ready meal is the way to feed yourself and those you love. The answer, however, is not to buy the cheapest option available. Buy your ready meals from people who make in small batches (this means that the meal is made by a person in a kitchen, not by a machine in a factory). If it is not clear where the ingredients have come from, ask and keep asking till you get an answer that satisfies you.
In the broader picture we need to ask who is in control of our food supply and hold them to account at every turn. I shall say it again for all those who are listening - Eat less meat, eat better quality meat, buy meat from a butcher if you can and treat meat as something very precious.
On a more positive note, a couple of weekend's ago the Beautiful Wife was on a course in Tetbury in the Cotswolds and I went with her to enjoy the foody joys of this area. I now have a Hobbs House Sourdough ferment and, as I type my second loaf from this "starter" is in the oven, filling the house with wonderful smells.
Tuesday, 22 January 2013
In praise of bland
We spend our life being told by TV chefs that you should add some citrus to make stuff "zingy" or "bring on the heat with some chilli" and I must say that much of my food has spikes of flavour in order to make the diner raise their eyebrows half way up their foreheads! However, it pays us to remember what joy there is in the bland flavoured foods which offer yang to the ying of spiky flavours, the palates on which we paint with the sexier more vibrant flavours.
We must also remember that a bland meal is not necessarily one without flavour. When you avoid the punch of the "big flavours" you find that you start to taste the subtlety in things and enjoy the soft calm and gentle earthy warmth of taste without shock.
The good folks at Abel and Cole managed to get our veg box to us on Friday before the snow set in properly and in the box was a beautiful cauliflower. Creamy, dense and heavy, it was a thing of great beauty and huge potential. My instincts said "bring on the chilli" but, for once, I ignored them. I made some lovely fritters and served them with mayonnaise laced with the tiniest bit of garlic. I took for inspiration a recipe by Ottolenghi
One small Cauliflower
Two eggs
A mug of plain flower
An onion (slowly fried until light brown and sweet)
1 Tsp Cumin
1/2 Tsp Turmeric
Break the cauli into small florets and boil a little longer than you really want to. Drain and mash until they have texture but there are no big lumps. Beat the eggs and add then to the flour and the spices. Season and add the batter to the cauli. Using a ladle to pour the batter into a frying pan, cook the fritters in a thin slick of oil (about 3 to a frying pan) for about 4 minutes on each side, keep warm and repeat. They should be a lovely golden brown.
I garnished with lime chunks (I know, I know, spiky flavours), rocket leaves, sunflower seeds and black sesame seeds.
We must also remember that a bland meal is not necessarily one without flavour. When you avoid the punch of the "big flavours" you find that you start to taste the subtlety in things and enjoy the soft calm and gentle earthy warmth of taste without shock.
The good folks at Abel and Cole managed to get our veg box to us on Friday before the snow set in properly and in the box was a beautiful cauliflower. Creamy, dense and heavy, it was a thing of great beauty and huge potential. My instincts said "bring on the chilli" but, for once, I ignored them. I made some lovely fritters and served them with mayonnaise laced with the tiniest bit of garlic. I took for inspiration a recipe by Ottolenghi
One small Cauliflower
Two eggs
A mug of plain flower
An onion (slowly fried until light brown and sweet)
1 Tsp Cumin
1/2 Tsp Turmeric
Break the cauli into small florets and boil a little longer than you really want to. Drain and mash until they have texture but there are no big lumps. Beat the eggs and add then to the flour and the spices. Season and add the batter to the cauli. Using a ladle to pour the batter into a frying pan, cook the fritters in a thin slick of oil (about 3 to a frying pan) for about 4 minutes on each side, keep warm and repeat. They should be a lovely golden brown.
I garnished with lime chunks (I know, I know, spiky flavours), rocket leaves, sunflower seeds and black sesame seeds.
 |
| The steaming glory of the bland! |
Tuesday, 1 January 2013
Happy new year!
I Have not written much lately as we have had the builders in, trying to ensure that Corner Cottage survives another 138 years! So cooking anything remotely complicated has been impossible. However, as the majority of the work was completed before Christmas we were able to enjoy a fine spread over the Festive Period. When we were first married, the beautiful wife and I decided that we would spend Christmas without any family (apart from the cats) and that we would visit relatives after the madness was over; we enjoyed it so much that we have done the same every year since. For the big day we had a duck, the perfect feast day roast for two. I got mine from Abel and Cole who do my veg box and it was first class with plenty of bits and bobs to nibble on in the days after.
The bird itself carved like butter and tasted like a dream. We went a bit overboard with the trimmings which put the little kitchen under pressure but we managed to eat well, very well. The day had started with eggs BBenedict. I'd made some stove top muffins on Christmas eve and pre poached some eggs, so all that was required was a quick whisk up of an hollandaise sauce and we were away.
Today I decided that all the left overs and bits and bobs had to be used up so we had:
Salad of Butternut squash, dressed with lemon and yoghurt
Salad of shredded Brussels Sprouts with salami
Salad of Rocket with smoked salmon
Spiced cakes of root vegetables
My fridge is now clearer and ready for the good things of the New Year. This year I plan to waste less, Eat more vegetarian dishes, bake more and experiment much more with food. Here's to a very peaceful, prosperous and delicious 2013 with all the food we need and a little of what we want too.
 |
| Carving. |
Today I decided that all the left overs and bits and bobs had to be used up so we had:
Salad of Butternut squash, dressed with lemon and yoghurt
Salad of shredded Brussels Sprouts with salami
Salad of Rocket with smoked salmon
Spiced cakes of root vegetables
My fridge is now clearer and ready for the good things of the New Year. This year I plan to waste less, Eat more vegetarian dishes, bake more and experiment much more with food. Here's to a very peaceful, prosperous and delicious 2013 with all the food we need and a little of what we want too.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
