Every working day I make my wife a salad for her to take to work. She works too hard and couldn't be relied on always to nip out of the office to buy something, and it saves us a fortune - her salad made with carrot, yellow pepper, ginger, and skinned satsuma segments today cost I reckon about 50p. Add a yogurt and a banana and it is £1 in total. From her university canteen it would be at least £3, from M&S maybe £4 for that lot.
The tongue-in-cheek title 'salads and saving the world' refers to the ridiculous amount of packaging a shop-bought salad would entail, some double wrapped with a disposable plastic carton inside a plastic bag. Her click-seal salad box has lasted two years, and shows no signs of wear.
Friday 2 December 2011
Thursday 1 December 2011
Growing Resentment
We heard yesterday that what was rather grandly called the shop on our allotment site has burned to the ground, the initial thought it may have been arson. Over the last two years our shed on the plot has been broken into three times, and we are far from being the only ones. Nothing was stolen, but the lock was broken and the door badly damaged. We no longer bother locking it. Worse still in a way are thefts of produce. People work hard to grow stuff, then some bastard comes along and nicks it - one woman had all the fruit from inside her fruit cage stolen, so it wasn't birds or squirrels. We suspect that the overnight complete stripping of two of our fruit bushes was not feathered thieves either. A friend had a giant pumpkin stolen - it would have taken two men to lift it. Perhaps most hurtful of all was an old chap whose potato plants were just wantonly kicked over, several rows devastated.
You begin to wonder about the mentality of those perpetrating these petty but nasty crimes. Do they see us as 'haves' to be attacked? Is it desperation for food - though nobody except a party-giver is desperate for a giant pumpkin. I could understand someone who was unable to feed kids or themselves taking enough for that immediate purpose, but when it is grabbing several pounds of raspberries? I even wonder if those doing these things see what we do as perverse - digging in the ground for our vegetables when real food comes in packets; devoting time to self-help when it is more natural for many to rely on others. It is sadly sometimes in all probability - in one case certainly - plot holders who nick stuff, a terribly anti-social act. As we hit ever darker economic times it is unlikely that the thefts in particular will stop.
You begin to wonder about the mentality of those perpetrating these petty but nasty crimes. Do they see us as 'haves' to be attacked? Is it desperation for food - though nobody except a party-giver is desperate for a giant pumpkin. I could understand someone who was unable to feed kids or themselves taking enough for that immediate purpose, but when it is grabbing several pounds of raspberries? I even wonder if those doing these things see what we do as perverse - digging in the ground for our vegetables when real food comes in packets; devoting time to self-help when it is more natural for many to rely on others. It is sadly sometimes in all probability - in one case certainly - plot holders who nick stuff, a terribly anti-social act. As we hit ever darker economic times it is unlikely that the thefts in particular will stop.
Monday 28 November 2011
Wood Burning
I'm not sure how environmentally friendly or otherwise our woodburner is. It's one suitable for smokeless zones, so is very efficient - hardly any ash and not much smoke. The alternative is gas or electricity that is generated by goodness knows what methods - though we do pay the tiny premium for ostensibly green power. And a tree left on the earth would rot in the long term and produce plenty of gases without warming us up.
In full money-saver mode I refuse to buy kindling. A sack of this costs about £5 from garages and shops, if I take 10 minutes and a sharp axe I can make the same amount, and generally thinner so it lights better, using only a couple of pieces of wood that cost maybe 50p between them.
This morning we had a fire in the burner to cheer Monday breakfast and warm the place up, the temperature has dropped a few degrees in the last couple of days. I must admit that as well as the practical immediate economic benefits - we have lots of trees whose trimmings are dried for burning - I had an eye to future unrest in the world when I suggested buying it. Private Eye seems to be the only publication pointing out that unless the politicians get their fingers out and rapidly the lights are going to go out in the next few years. And if push comes to shove I reckon I could cook on it - one pot stuff, quick fried or, with a heat diffuser, slower stews. What a depressing thought, but one I would guess I am not alone in having.
When the lights do go out how will the politicians cope? In the most creative and useful way they know - blaming the other side, using researchers to dig out 10 year old pronouncements to prove their fatuous cases. David Cameron will be able to burn some of his money, and as everything beyond Oxford and Westminster is outside his experience Ed Milliband will have to ask his team what fire is for. Nick Clegg will look worried and nod a lot.
In full money-saver mode I refuse to buy kindling. A sack of this costs about £5 from garages and shops, if I take 10 minutes and a sharp axe I can make the same amount, and generally thinner so it lights better, using only a couple of pieces of wood that cost maybe 50p between them.
This morning we had a fire in the burner to cheer Monday breakfast and warm the place up, the temperature has dropped a few degrees in the last couple of days. I must admit that as well as the practical immediate economic benefits - we have lots of trees whose trimmings are dried for burning - I had an eye to future unrest in the world when I suggested buying it. Private Eye seems to be the only publication pointing out that unless the politicians get their fingers out and rapidly the lights are going to go out in the next few years. And if push comes to shove I reckon I could cook on it - one pot stuff, quick fried or, with a heat diffuser, slower stews. What a depressing thought, but one I would guess I am not alone in having.
When the lights do go out how will the politicians cope? In the most creative and useful way they know - blaming the other side, using researchers to dig out 10 year old pronouncements to prove their fatuous cases. David Cameron will be able to burn some of his money, and as everything beyond Oxford and Westminster is outside his experience Ed Milliband will have to ask his team what fire is for. Nick Clegg will look worried and nod a lot.
Wednesday 16 November 2011
Cheap and Delicious
The austerity Christmas post brought to mind last night's cheap and very cheerful indeed main course - starter was just grated carrot seasoned and with a drop of oil plus a few slices of salami each. Stuffed savoury pancakes made into a gratin with a cheesy sauce. The stuffing was half a chicken breast leftover from Sunday, eight mushrooms sliced and gently sauteed with two chopped onions and two cloves of garlic sliced thinly. My wife saved my sauce from medicority by insisting it needed more cheese, and she was right. I even added a bit of parmesan on top of the sauce to give it some oomph. Two pancakes each quickly made on my flat griddle. the result was fabulous even though I say so myself. For once I even got what seemed like praise from small son - he compared it favourably to lasagne, his favourite dish apart from steak with a pulse.
An Austerity Christmas Meal
We are incredibly lucky that we eat well, and don't have to count every penny. In spite of that I like cooking what I think is good food without spending a fortune. A debate on Radio 4 the other day set me to thinking - one panellist said he dealt with people left just £5 a week to feed their family - about the cost of the Turkey course for Christmas lunch for those on very tight budgets, and I reckon I could do the Turkey and trimmings - not the whole week - for under £5. Filling and tasty, and nothing I hope wasted - heard again about Britain throwing away seven million tonnes of food a year. Shaming. The planet can't take the over-use of resources, and nor soon will the landfill be able to take such huge amounts.
A turkey drumstick is about £2.20 from the supermarket. Season with salt and pepper and a dash of oil over it and roast wet in a covered dish (lid or foil) with a carrot or two and an onion chopped in and a chicken stock-cube for about 80 minutes at 180 centigrade. Turn the drumstick once or twice as it cooks. With its several sinews this will need carving in the kitchen, but there's plenty of good brown meat on it.
The real treat for me at the Christmas table is the stuffing, a version of which I made on Sunday to go with chicken. Chop in the processor or very finely by hand: 1) pack of smoked 'recipe' bacon £1.40 from Sainsbury's, rind removed if there is any, leave the fat though; 2) Two large onions; 3) Three medium carrots; 4) Four slices of bread, ideally a bit stale. So 1,2,3,4. Mix together well in a bowl, add an egg and stir in, season - not much salt, the bacon has plenty - drizzle (sorry) a few drops of oil on and cook in the oven in a dish about 1" - 1 1/2" inches deep, covered with foil, about the same length of time as the turkey drumstick. It is moist and really flavoursome, and you can play tunes with herbs - a few sage leaves is excellent - or some mushrooms (sliced just one thinly and decorate the top to prettify it). Replace one carrot with a small apple. There's plenty to go round too, probably enough to have leftovers that make great sarnies.
Serve these two elements with just a few sprouts each, one parsnip for the entire table cooked however you like it, more carrots, and lots of mashed spuds, make gravy with the veg rich juice in which the turkey cooked and it's a feast. Do your own bread sauce too if you like it, another delicious bargain filler.
The times shape our perceptions of food. The above in WWII would I guess have been a feast. And for workers until the 1960s likewise. For some in Britain this year it would represent luxury. Maybe the way things are going it won't seem too stingy for the rest of us before the decade is out.
A final peasant touch: Don't throw the sinews and bone out, nor the bacon rind if any. Simmered gently with chopped onions and carrots for an hour, a bayleaf or sage if you have them, with spuds in big dice added for the last 10 minutes or so (check they are cooked), seasoned well, and you have a broth that will smell great - remove the bone and what's left of the sinews before serving with bread to dip. Or go the whole peasant hog and make a stock with the washed peelings from Christmas lunch plus the bone etc. Cook a risotto with it and all you'd need to complete the dish would be a handful of mushrooms and a bit of grated cheese for another cheap feast.
A turkey drumstick is about £2.20 from the supermarket. Season with salt and pepper and a dash of oil over it and roast wet in a covered dish (lid or foil) with a carrot or two and an onion chopped in and a chicken stock-cube for about 80 minutes at 180 centigrade. Turn the drumstick once or twice as it cooks. With its several sinews this will need carving in the kitchen, but there's plenty of good brown meat on it.
The real treat for me at the Christmas table is the stuffing, a version of which I made on Sunday to go with chicken. Chop in the processor or very finely by hand: 1) pack of smoked 'recipe' bacon £1.40 from Sainsbury's, rind removed if there is any, leave the fat though; 2) Two large onions; 3) Three medium carrots; 4) Four slices of bread, ideally a bit stale. So 1,2,3,4. Mix together well in a bowl, add an egg and stir in, season - not much salt, the bacon has plenty - drizzle (sorry) a few drops of oil on and cook in the oven in a dish about 1" - 1 1/2" inches deep, covered with foil, about the same length of time as the turkey drumstick. It is moist and really flavoursome, and you can play tunes with herbs - a few sage leaves is excellent - or some mushrooms (sliced just one thinly and decorate the top to prettify it). Replace one carrot with a small apple. There's plenty to go round too, probably enough to have leftovers that make great sarnies.
Serve these two elements with just a few sprouts each, one parsnip for the entire table cooked however you like it, more carrots, and lots of mashed spuds, make gravy with the veg rich juice in which the turkey cooked and it's a feast. Do your own bread sauce too if you like it, another delicious bargain filler.
The times shape our perceptions of food. The above in WWII would I guess have been a feast. And for workers until the 1960s likewise. For some in Britain this year it would represent luxury. Maybe the way things are going it won't seem too stingy for the rest of us before the decade is out.
A final peasant touch: Don't throw the sinews and bone out, nor the bacon rind if any. Simmered gently with chopped onions and carrots for an hour, a bayleaf or sage if you have them, with spuds in big dice added for the last 10 minutes or so (check they are cooked), seasoned well, and you have a broth that will smell great - remove the bone and what's left of the sinews before serving with bread to dip. Or go the whole peasant hog and make a stock with the washed peelings from Christmas lunch plus the bone etc. Cook a risotto with it and all you'd need to complete the dish would be a handful of mushrooms and a bit of grated cheese for another cheap feast.
Saturday 12 November 2011
F1, Queueing for our Allotment, Pizza and Onion Rings
Stuck this afternoon in a massive queue on the way to our allotment - it is near Deepdale and PNE are at home today - I was listening to 5-Live and it struck me that not only was I in traffic, but I was listening to commentary about traffic, albeit in Dubai. Is there a duller and more over-hyped sport than F1? Rallying I can understand - countryside, mud, real roads, getting within inches of the cars - but Grand Prix? No. How is it interesting that one helmet in a very fast car goes round in circles more rapidly than another helmet in a slower car?
Two little victories in my culinary life. Thursday night I made three pizzas (pizzi?) from scratch, even thinner than previous effort as I used the same quantity of dough for three rather than two, the result being nicely crisp crust. Very hot oven, done in 15 minutes. Unlikely though it sounds the sardine, anchovy and prawn one (all were with onions and peppers) was praised by wife and son, and the meat feast (mini-meatballs made with leftover roast beef from Sunday) not far off. With two mozarellas, sardine tin, anchovy tin, and a few slices of salami I reckon £3.75 for the lot, the price of one from a shop or half from a takeaway.
Even smaller win: to go with steak on Friday I made my own onion rings - Greek-style batter recipe courtesy of the great Jane Grigson, with a bit of cayenne in place or her pernod. Crisp again, no processed rubbish in them, not a crumb left. Egg from our chickens, bit of flour, baking powder, water, some cheap olive oil, two onions, so pence against pounds from the freezer section of some supermarket. A sneaky extra vegetable, and the pleasure of crunching sounds at the table.
Two little victories in my culinary life. Thursday night I made three pizzas (pizzi?) from scratch, even thinner than previous effort as I used the same quantity of dough for three rather than two, the result being nicely crisp crust. Very hot oven, done in 15 minutes. Unlikely though it sounds the sardine, anchovy and prawn one (all were with onions and peppers) was praised by wife and son, and the meat feast (mini-meatballs made with leftover roast beef from Sunday) not far off. With two mozarellas, sardine tin, anchovy tin, and a few slices of salami I reckon £3.75 for the lot, the price of one from a shop or half from a takeaway.
Even smaller win: to go with steak on Friday I made my own onion rings - Greek-style batter recipe courtesy of the great Jane Grigson, with a bit of cayenne in place or her pernod. Crisp again, no processed rubbish in them, not a crumb left. Egg from our chickens, bit of flour, baking powder, water, some cheap olive oil, two onions, so pence against pounds from the freezer section of some supermarket. A sneaky extra vegetable, and the pleasure of crunching sounds at the table.
Monday 7 November 2011
Firework Weekend
November 5th being special to us we had a gathering of friends various on Saturday, fed and watered about 16 people by my reckoning. As ever, too much food: massive lamb stew that everyone seemed to have two platefuls of, but still left enough for three ice-cream containers-full to be frozen. Good use for Turk's Turban squash to accompany it, loads of starch and wonderful orange flesh to brighten up the lamb hotpot. Fabulous fireworks, the rule being bring one large one per family.
The weekend was the rocket, Monday the stick - sadly the Information Britain site that has been my biggest source of income for last five years has been sliding down the rankings for no good reason in fact the opposite, it does what it suggests with vast amounts of easily navigable stuff about Britain. Sad, I have never enjoyed a job more, and never worked with anyone as easy to get along with as Nick Crawford-Barton, the owner. Anyone need a brilliant writer with a dozen ideas for books and about 3000 for articles? Food, wine, spirits, boats, all the good things in life.
The weekend was the rocket, Monday the stick - sadly the Information Britain site that has been my biggest source of income for last five years has been sliding down the rankings for no good reason in fact the opposite, it does what it suggests with vast amounts of easily navigable stuff about Britain. Sad, I have never enjoyed a job more, and never worked with anyone as easy to get along with as Nick Crawford-Barton, the owner. Anyone need a brilliant writer with a dozen ideas for books and about 3000 for articles? Food, wine, spirits, boats, all the good things in life.
Monday 31 October 2011
The Lancashire Riviera
On Sunday we dropped small son off at a paint-balling birthday event between Carnforth and Silverdale, and used the two-and-a-half hours productively, walking to the coast and along past Jack Scout. A friend staying in Juan-les-Pins texted to say it was 22 degreess there, and lots of punters on the beach. I replied it was 20 degrees in the South Lakes and no punters. Amazing return of the Indian summer when we had been warned of deadly blizzards.
On our return I overcooked (i.e. to medium rather than rare) a piece of sirloin of Aberdeen Angus from Rowntree Farms. Foolishly I followed the divine Delia's method instead of my usual slavish adherence to HF-W as regards meat. Saw an edition of the latter's veg thing later. Again a table of cut-glass-accented and very photogenic gardeners/helpers, but can forgive him for the way he does in the end inspire. Never yet felt like cooking something Jamie Oliver fries off (his phrase not mine), and it generally seems to be fried. Likewise Delia, though she does always inform, and Rick Stein, again educational and never less than interesting, but not inspirational. Nigel Slater's presentation on TV so low-key as to induce sleep, pity as in spite of annoying writing style (see below) he often has good ideas and sound views.
On our return I overcooked (i.e. to medium rather than rare) a piece of sirloin of Aberdeen Angus from Rowntree Farms. Foolishly I followed the divine Delia's method instead of my usual slavish adherence to HF-W as regards meat. Saw an edition of the latter's veg thing later. Again a table of cut-glass-accented and very photogenic gardeners/helpers, but can forgive him for the way he does in the end inspire. Never yet felt like cooking something Jamie Oliver fries off (his phrase not mine), and it generally seems to be fried. Likewise Delia, though she does always inform, and Rick Stein, again educational and never less than interesting, but not inspirational. Nigel Slater's presentation on TV so low-key as to induce sleep, pity as in spite of annoying writing style (see below) he often has good ideas and sound views.
Friday 28 October 2011
Hendrick's Press Trip
One of the real perks of my newish career is the occasional press trip. This month they've done the London bus trick, so I'm feeling a bit tired. Not tired and emotional, just tired. Back this lunchtime from a two-day thing with Hendrick's Gin, as well run and enjoyable as the Glenfiddich event last week. As ever the tasting and distillery visit the core of the trip, but I loved the gin and literature presentation by Damien Barr who was also a very amusing dinner companion and turned out to be a fellow chicken keeper. Wodehouse, chickens, the horrors of the ortolan, delights of the bullshot, beef Kobe and Argentine and the culinary wonders of Lyon just some of the topics covered in my area while the table of journos PR people and Wm Grant personnel was getting outside excellent food.
I remain, however, less than convinced by the whole cocktail revolution (are we on part 5 now?). Best servings of the gin for me were in a simple G&T with a slice of cucumber to bring out its cucumber essence (one of its likeable quirks along with the rose essence and use of two different still types), though I must admit the White Lady and Martinez both more than passable. Hendricks is actually a gin that would repay I think chilling down to drink neat, an experiment I will try sometime soon. Right now, though, I'm not in a rush to sip any gin for several days. Well done to the company btw for using recycled glass in its bottles, smart move as they look stylish too. And well done for smoothly run and amusing trip.
I remain, however, less than convinced by the whole cocktail revolution (are we on part 5 now?). Best servings of the gin for me were in a simple G&T with a slice of cucumber to bring out its cucumber essence (one of its likeable quirks along with the rose essence and use of two different still types), though I must admit the White Lady and Martinez both more than passable. Hendricks is actually a gin that would repay I think chilling down to drink neat, an experiment I will try sometime soon. Right now, though, I'm not in a rush to sip any gin for several days. Well done to the company btw for using recycled glass in its bottles, smart move as they look stylish too. And well done for smoothly run and amusing trip.
Friday 21 October 2011
One Day You Will
Just back from the One Day You Will 'summit' at Glenfiddich, a very different sort of event (for me at least). To celebrate the pioneering aspect of the brand (currently repositioning itself) they laid on speakers who in their own fields are pioneers. Digital interactive artist Marek Bereza was a revelation, which given I was expecting something like videos of sawn up shoes was surprising. Brilliant and beautiful use of computer images, with no little wit thrown in that made his stuff entertaining as well as artistic. And a very humble and shy speaker. Bit of a contrast with polar explorer Pen Hadow (I'm still not sure why taking a deliberately difficult pathway to somewhere reached many times before should be considered exploring) who was definitely not humble, and for this listener not entertaining either. Given the length of his presentation he didn't share that opinion. Eben Klemm, a molecular biologist turned mixologist, was another I had awaited with some trepidation, but he was fascinating: he has a scientific approach to flavours, isolating them, enhancing, matching, that was genuinely educational and revelatory. And a great guy to chat with. He had deconstructed various Glenfiddichs with a clever cold distillation technique, enabling us to experience specific elements of its make-up. Terrific. Many thanks to the Glenfiddich team at the distillery and in London, and the Future Laboratory guys.
Monday 17 October 2011
Global Warming in the Allotment
This is not a cheer or even half one for global warming. Jeremy Clarkson is amusing but very dim as regards that topic: that it was cold yesterday doesn't disprove the lengthy scientific studies nearly all pointing us up s..t creek. Another tiny proof up here in the wilds of Lancashire is the harvest this weekend on our allotment: four open-air grown baby cucumbers; plenty of courgettes; and even a handful of raspberries. The spinach in our garden still looks healthy and youthful. It's mid-October. The baby cucumbers were very welcome, one part of Ruth's salad box for lunch today. Not so the courgettes, so eagerly awaited in early summer but by now hanging around like a bad smell or a foolish government minister trying to avoid resignation.
Speaking of which, Liam Fox finally accepted the inevitable. I had harsh words with one of my friends the other day, who has never taken me on a foreign trip with him and whose office I have never visited. Perhaps it's because I don't know what transactional advantage even means.
Speaking of which, Liam Fox finally accepted the inevitable. I had harsh words with one of my friends the other day, who has never taken me on a foreign trip with him and whose office I have never visited. Perhaps it's because I don't know what transactional advantage even means.
The Divine Hugh
New Hugh F-W series began last night, and was disappointed enough to wander off to do stuff elsewhere halfway through. He is my favourite food writer of modern times at least, David and Grigson (Jane not Sophie) vying for all-time top spot. HF-W is thought-provoking and environmentally aware, which balances the ridiculously posh accents of his team of photogenic gardeners. It began badly with the trail, which stated something like: "Britain is a nation of carnivores and River Cottage led the way." Am reasonably sure we ate meat before it appeared as a topic on bookshelves and TV screens. And the stunt of giving up meat entirely for a period was as annoying as someone's kid screaming 'look at me.' There was something very condescending about giving the veg packs to builders too.
I'll still buy the book as he always has good ideas and has a cosily relaxed writing style (see previous blog for my rather different views on Nigel Slater's) but maybe he should take a break from TV and stop to think about his output more. That's me off the list of potential contributors then.
I'll still buy the book as he always has good ideas and has a cosily relaxed writing style (see previous blog for my rather different views on Nigel Slater's) but maybe he should take a break from TV and stop to think about his output more. That's me off the list of potential contributors then.
Tuesday 11 October 2011
Timely Reminder
The competition in lovethegarden.com for a favourite tomato recipe is a timely reminder to use up the last of the Tumbler tomatoes trying in vain to ripen near the back door. Though decidedly unripe they have a nice earthy flavour and are already sweet, and as luck would have it there are also the last (likewise earthy) Ring of Fire chilli and about 30 coriander seeds the chickens and my picking for drying have missed. The three green ingredients needed to make my hot salsa. The toms - about 20 ranging from overgrown pea to underfed golf ball - are chopped roughly. Then the seeds-and-all chilli, coriander, six peppercorns, two garlic cloves and a big pinch of coarse salt are machine-zapped to a paste to which the juice of half a lemon and a good glug of cheap olive oil is added (I defy anyone to tell own-brand from super-ultra-extra-virgin in such a mixture). Mix the Tumblers with the by now thin paste, breath deeply to enjoy in advance, and then cover with clingfilm and leave to mature in the fridge for at least six hours(though I'll take it out to warm to room temperature before using). It will spice up this evening's autumnal supper of pork chops and Turk's Turban squash, and any left will go nicely on toast - or if you live in Kensington, bruschetta.
Monday 10 October 2011
Nuts to Squirrels
We decided to leave our cobnuts to ripen a bit longer a week ago. Tactical error. Today I went to pick them and it was a rapid process. Same number of nuts as a eunach. There had been I'd guess about 3kg in total over four little trees, all nicely wrapped in little leafy bits. I was going to dry and blitz them to make cakes and bread, but that is a tad difficult now. Somewhere near our allotment there is a squirrel telling itself it's just a bit of fat for the winter, and grey always makes you look a bit bloated anyway. They are, as the phrase goes, rats with good PR.
At least we got four big Turk's Turban squashes, the other thing I was there to pick. And one tiny patty pan - lots of late courgettes too. In 2010 we grew loads of Jack-be-Little pumpkins, about 1/2lb each, perfect for adding to mash or soup or stews, but for some reason they failed totally this year. One Turk's T will make a dish on November 5, the others I will try very hard to use up before then as I am not sure how well they will keep. They look good though.
At least we got four big Turk's Turban squashes, the other thing I was there to pick. And one tiny patty pan - lots of late courgettes too. In 2010 we grew loads of Jack-be-Little pumpkins, about 1/2lb each, perfect for adding to mash or soup or stews, but for some reason they failed totally this year. One Turk's T will make a dish on November 5, the others I will try very hard to use up before then as I am not sure how well they will keep. They look good though.
Monday 3 October 2011
(Chinese) Chicken Tonight
Is it wrong to want to disembowel people who use the spelling 'tonite'?
A chicken leg leftover from yesterday's meal will be the basis of tonight's chicken noodle dish. Lunch was a cold sausage butty, the bangers cooked at breakfast and superfluous to appetite then. I wonder how many households bother to foil-wrap such stuff and pop it in the fridge when cold? We have become a civilisation of waste in the West.
Talking of chickens, ours are currently erratic in their laying. Ruth thumbing lists of hit-men and making elaborate plans for killing the birds, I am trying to coach them to get their game together, about as effectively as Kevin Keegan with England. They look very healthy, all nice and red on their combs. Having fresh eggs daily has been a boon to the cook for the last year and a half, I hope they will pick up before arguments against their continued survival lose all power.
A chicken leg leftover from yesterday's meal will be the basis of tonight's chicken noodle dish. Lunch was a cold sausage butty, the bangers cooked at breakfast and superfluous to appetite then. I wonder how many households bother to foil-wrap such stuff and pop it in the fridge when cold? We have become a civilisation of waste in the West.
Talking of chickens, ours are currently erratic in their laying. Ruth thumbing lists of hit-men and making elaborate plans for killing the birds, I am trying to coach them to get their game together, about as effectively as Kevin Keegan with England. They look very healthy, all nice and red on their combs. Having fresh eggs daily has been a boon to the cook for the last year and a half, I hope they will pick up before arguments against their continued survival lose all power.
Last of the Summer - Whine
Saturday, the first day of October (and as ever of the rest of our lives), another BBQ, if anything finer than the midweek effort. Again ours the lone smoke signal in the neighbourhood, which seems like finding gold in the garden and not bothering to pick it up. Could Strictly X-Factor's Got Apprentice Talent be worth missing such a pleasurable hour or two outside?
With my aversion to additives and to paying dear for sub-par factory stuff, I bought mince and made three burgers with only salt, plenty of pepper, and a glug of olive oil. Would have been a drizzle but I'm a cook not a cock. Shaped in clean wet hands and into the holdy thing to grill over greying coals. Crunchy salad including our own beetroot and cucumber, the last of the season, skewers of courgette (ditto) and mushrooms, and time to eat slowly in the warm evening. My compliments to Doc Myers who introduced me to the value of toasting your buns/baps or other double-entendre baked goods on the barbie. A hint of extra crispness to the proceedings.
It was distressing to hear over the weekend of the rise in numbers of those needing food handouts. Hats off to the food companies providing supplies. Had to wonder how many among the recipients would have a better chance with more basic cookery skills though. Fresh, unprocessed (thus cheaper) foods seen in supermarket trolleys in direct proportion to perceived income of the shopper. Hats on to schools teaching food science and marketing for the last 20 years instead of cooking.
With my aversion to additives and to paying dear for sub-par factory stuff, I bought mince and made three burgers with only salt, plenty of pepper, and a glug of olive oil. Would have been a drizzle but I'm a cook not a cock. Shaped in clean wet hands and into the holdy thing to grill over greying coals. Crunchy salad including our own beetroot and cucumber, the last of the season, skewers of courgette (ditto) and mushrooms, and time to eat slowly in the warm evening. My compliments to Doc Myers who introduced me to the value of toasting your buns/baps or other double-entendre baked goods on the barbie. A hint of extra crispness to the proceedings.
It was distressing to hear over the weekend of the rise in numbers of those needing food handouts. Hats off to the food companies providing supplies. Had to wonder how many among the recipients would have a better chance with more basic cookery skills though. Fresh, unprocessed (thus cheaper) foods seen in supermarket trolleys in direct proportion to perceived income of the shopper. Hats on to schools teaching food science and marketing for the last 20 years instead of cooking.
Wednesday 28 September 2011
A September Evening BBQ
Last night's BBQ was wonderful. While I hope I'm rather far off the grave, advancing years make each special event like that all the more pleasurable for me: at the very least my son is likely to fly the coop in three years' time post A-levels. The simple joy of sitting with my wife and son eating well on a warm evening is worth celebrating. Ours being a role reversal household I prepared the food and Ruth cooked it, with Joe's help: sausages, thin steaklets, scallops steamed with garlic in foil, mushrooms on skewers plus rapidly prepared hot veg stew (I overdid the cayenne) and warm guacamole. A half-bott of Beaujolais to wash it all down (that it is half-bottles these days is sadly another sign the first flush of youth is long gone). Hardly a mosquito to bother us and still warm, though pitch dark, when we came inside at about 8pm.
Though our neighbours have equally pleasant gardens - not overlooked, nicely leafy and quiet - nobody else had come up with the same idea. Ours was the lone smoke signal.
Tuesday 27 September 2011
Sunshine and the Wonders of Bicarb
We Brits have to take our sunshine when we can - generally in recent years April and September rather than what we laughingly call the summer months, and 2011 has pretty much worked out that way again. So tonight we barbie, doubtless with some strange looks from any neighbours observing the smoke signals. BBQs are always a good excuse here for hotting up the veg as accompaniments, so have some guacamole with extra chili maturing nicely in the fridge and paprika-laden tomato/courgette/onion stew bubbling nicely. I envy my former colleague Mike Riefsnyder in the USA who - living in the Carolinas - reckons to do a cookout (two nations separated by a common language) every Sunday, even at Christmas. It is a man thing, though contrary to the Woman's Hour cliche some of us can do a bit more than burn food over charcoal. Man light fire. Fire good. Meat good.
Needing to clean the BBQ grill I ended up doing the oven - how many brownie points is that? - as well, eschewing Mr Muscle and other overpriced lookalikes for a little pot of bicarb, far more effective and it costs pennies. Somehow I feel better about eating stuff cooked in an oven cleaned with bicarb than with more sophisticated chemical concoctions. Ecological and economic.
Friday 23 September 2011
Stuff the Apples
The current glut we are enjoying if that's the word is of apples, both cookers and dessert. The new food dryer is helping to cope with the seemingly endless crop, and both wife and son devouring the little rings like sweeties.
A couple of days ago, thinking of how to use up space in a low oven cooking a casserole over two hours and more I improvised a simple pudding: six apples were washed and cored, and the hole stuffed with a mix that was roughly 4 parts fine porridge oats, 3 ground almonds, 2 sesame seeds, 1 sugar, moistened with maple syrup. Halfway through the stuffing looked too dry so more syrup was added, plenty on the skins too, along with several big glugs of rum. Delicious and very simple. They held their shape and had a rummy-toffee apple flavour. It's rewarding to come up with something that simple and that tasty.
Wednesday 21 September 2011
Joined-up Eating
Yesterday's evening meal made me think about how proper cooking is not just about individual dishes. We had a mushroom risotto (I can never write or say the word risotto now without thinking of Stephen Fry's deliberately pretentious enunciation of it in a sketch years back - riso.........tto) made with lovely jellied stock from a ham hock cooked on Sunday for eating cold in a light first course on Monday. Joe, my harshest critic, said the risotto was the best thing I'd cooked for weeks. He meant well.
Joined-up also tends to mean economic. The hock was I think £1.69 from Morrison's (best of the big-four supermarkets as regards butcheries, their animals have both extremities and innards, Sainsbury's beasts these days are only made of roasts and chops it appears) and it did that starter, much of my lunch yesterday, and the risotto, plus the last shards were eaten at breakfast today). A chicken does at least three substantial dishes - roast, the remainder in a stir-fry, ragout, curry or similar, and always (or nearly so) broth or if already picked clean stock made from the carcase. By my reckoning the risotto cost about £3.50: £1.50 for mushrooms, say 50p for half a box of risotto rice, and £1 for a lot of parmesan, plus pennies for onion, 'basic' tiny pepper, and garlic.
Joined-up also tends to mean economic. The hock was I think £1.69 from Morrison's (best of the big-four supermarkets as regards butcheries, their animals have both extremities and innards, Sainsbury's beasts these days are only made of roasts and chops it appears) and it did that starter, much of my lunch yesterday, and the risotto, plus the last shards were eaten at breakfast today). A chicken does at least three substantial dishes - roast, the remainder in a stir-fry, ragout, curry or similar, and always (or nearly so) broth or if already picked clean stock made from the carcase. By my reckoning the risotto cost about £3.50: £1.50 for mushrooms, say 50p for half a box of risotto rice, and £1 for a lot of parmesan, plus pennies for onion, 'basic' tiny pepper, and garlic.
Tuesday 20 September 2011
Barbecue Summers and Dire Winters
It was alarming this morning to hear that several weather forecast companies (now there's a gig - I predict it will rain in Preston next week - that'll be £1000 please) are expecting a very harsh winter. Then I remembered these are probably the same people who assured us a year ago that 2010 would see a barbecue summer.
Strangely I feel rather drawn to the idea of a harsh winter, selfish though that is, as I love the cheerful cosiness of eating in a room with a wood-burner throwing light and heat about the place. We have bought some of our winter log supply, and half of Sunday was spent sawing up two fallen branches from one of the apple trees. Odd how the wood smells of apples, distinctly so. Those logs are now in the greenhouse drying out, there is precious little plant life beyond a big tarragon plant competing for the space.
Economic doom and gloom that sometimes gets to depressive depths, and food inflation running way ahead of the general level, is nudging me to lay in a load of tins and other keepable stuff, may as well invest the money in such stores as see it lose value in the bank. I am reminded of just such a suggestion on the bloody awful Nationwide in the Seventies. And if the world spirals into total economic meltdown we will be able to have tomato ragu and various bean dishes. Add indispensible olive oil to the list then.
Sunday 18 September 2011
The Scent of Coriander and Bay
Using the food dryer toy to preserve some herbs - a good way to get early payback as a little Schwartz bottle of dried sage etc runs well beyond the £1 mark - had the very pleasant by-product of filling the basement with a fabulous scent, as we pretentious wine-writer gits would say the coriander was the top-note, the bay providing a deeper background aroma, and the sage a subtle little touch of the savoury.
That is one of the joys of proper cooking, of real food: filling the house with mouth-watering smells. This morning's breakfast smell only noticed after we had been in the garden for a moment, returning to a comfortable mixture of bacon, coffee, and toast. Had we been using the wood-burner people would have thought we were selling the place.
That is one of the joys of proper cooking, of real food: filling the house with mouth-watering smells. This morning's breakfast smell only noticed after we had been in the garden for a moment, returning to a comfortable mixture of bacon, coffee, and toast. Had we been using the wood-burner people would have thought we were selling the place.
Thursday 15 September 2011
A New Toy
On Tuesday we had a new toy delivered, a food dryer. There is probably a fancier name for it but it dries food so it's a food dryer for me. As with various other purchases in the same line it will take a long time to get the monetary value (£56 delivered) back in terms of food shopping saved - the apple press a case in point - but it's fun, we get to have a store of free food, and when civilization comes to an end we are the ones looking smug just before the Morlocks come and grab our stuff.
I dried some apple rings yesterday and enough bay leaves from our tree to see us through a winter of casseroles, likewise sage leaves. My wife loves the apple rings in her packed lunch, Joe as a snack including for his upcoming DoE hike - all the goodness only 1/10th the weight.
If any damsons have survived the hurricane-lite a few days back I may try a few of those to see if they work when re-hydrated (in vodka left over from reviews?) as the basis of crumbles or dry in cakes.
The sell-by-date changes currently mooted have brought up the issue of food waste again, an annual figure of 5 million tonnes mentioned for Britain. I doubt this includes the vast quantities of fruit never picked from garden trees and little lost orchards. Maybe the third way politicians keep trying to claim they are following should be not throwing so much away: our personal budgets would benefit, and so too would the world's poor.
Sunday 11 September 2011
Pears like Christmas
We have two pear trees on the allotment, and our friends with the one next door have another with a crop so huge it has broken at least one large branch off already. Pears don't ripen on the tree, and picking them is a matter of judgement, too early as with a recent load and they remain rock hard before collapsing unpleasantly.
So yesterday I tried poaching about six or seven peeled and cut into quarters, core removed. My spirit reviews have left us with overflowing cupboards, so the syrup in which they were poached contained rum and limoncello, lots of sugar, and some cinnamon and nutmeg. It took half and hour on a very low simmer, the pace upped at the end to reduce the liquid, but the result was sublime, a taste of Christmas a whole season too early. They reminded us of some figs we used to buy from a deli in Ramsbottom (laugh now effete southerners, Rammy is a foodie oasis believe it or not). The jar sloshed with spiced syrup, served with cream and a glass of amontillado they were an annual treat until the deli changed hands and they were no longer stocked.
Given the calorific content not a pudding to be eaten daily, but we will have them again soon.
Thursday 8 September 2011
Supermarket Basics
Supermarket Basics takes in several ways of economising, and to my mind of being a bit more eco friendly than otherwise.
We waste obscene amounts of food even before it has the chance to get to the shops, much of it because things fail to match the ridiculous standards set by bureaucrats. Produce destroyed as slightly uneven in shape; or not within the size limits set as norms. Some of the things not deemed perfect within those parameters are sold very cheaply as 'basic' or a similar designation in supermarkets. Buy them! It is not the taste but appearance that differs.
Likewise with cheap tinned tomatoes, basis of so many sauces and stews: their colour varies, or size, or maybe a tiny amount of skin clings to them. Buy them! Currently 35p or so for a tin of basic chopped toms against 50p or more for prettier-labelled 'perfects'. If you could save 30% on all your bills...
A similar line of thought follows with cheeses. I always glance (guiltily in case friends around) at the nearing-sell-by-date shelf for cheeses, and if I see any brie or camembert or good blue will buy them, as they will maybe be ripe and ready to eat. Better for less - new chalky camembert is not worth its place on the cheese-board.
Some fruits are sold cheaply because they too are ripe, or there is over-supply. Buy them! and eat quickly rather than keeping them for weeks then forgetting to check and letting them rot. To paraphrase Byron, Arise ye goths and eat your gluts (though you can feel like you are glutting your ire against EU silliness too if you want).
We waste obscene amounts of food even before it has the chance to get to the shops, much of it because things fail to match the ridiculous standards set by bureaucrats. Produce destroyed as slightly uneven in shape; or not within the size limits set as norms. Some of the things not deemed perfect within those parameters are sold very cheaply as 'basic' or a similar designation in supermarkets. Buy them! It is not the taste but appearance that differs.
Likewise with cheap tinned tomatoes, basis of so many sauces and stews: their colour varies, or size, or maybe a tiny amount of skin clings to them. Buy them! Currently 35p or so for a tin of basic chopped toms against 50p or more for prettier-labelled 'perfects'. If you could save 30% on all your bills...
A similar line of thought follows with cheeses. I always glance (guiltily in case friends around) at the nearing-sell-by-date shelf for cheeses, and if I see any brie or camembert or good blue will buy them, as they will maybe be ripe and ready to eat. Better for less - new chalky camembert is not worth its place on the cheese-board.
Some fruits are sold cheaply because they too are ripe, or there is over-supply. Buy them! and eat quickly rather than keeping them for weeks then forgetting to check and letting them rot. To paraphrase Byron, Arise ye goths and eat your gluts (though you can feel like you are glutting your ire against EU silliness too if you want).
Good Plain British Cooking
Yesterday on one TV news programme an article 'revealed' that Britain is returning to traditional dishes - cottage pie etc - that had supposedly gone out of fashion. Setting aside fashion in food - vanilla infusion anyone? coffee foam? - this was introduced as being linked to the recession. The suggestion was that until the banks lost everybody's money we had all been dining on caviar, venison and wild sea-bass. Maybe in Kensington.
Actually what has probably happened over the years is that as we advanced economically some of the nastier cheapo filler dishes have been dropped - no recent sightings of gruel - but the good ones retained. And we have added foods and dishes from cuisines from around the world, so Indian and Thai curries, Chinese, Italian and Spanish things appear regularly on the tables of those who actually do cook (and I suppose those who buy ready-meals too).
Last night we had sausages (nice herby ones), mushrooms, mash made 50/50 parsnips (cheap 'basic' bag i.e. not standard EU size - topic for a other post I think) and potatoes (our home-grown), and onion gravy. Cost for lashings for three of us about £4.25. Though I say so myself the gravy was sweet and delicious. There's nothing wrong with good plain British cooking, though there would be if you closed your eyes to other options. Tonight then a chick-pea curry, made with freshly ground spices. Which has become good plain British cooking too.
Actually what has probably happened over the years is that as we advanced economically some of the nastier cheapo filler dishes have been dropped - no recent sightings of gruel - but the good ones retained. And we have added foods and dishes from cuisines from around the world, so Indian and Thai curries, Chinese, Italian and Spanish things appear regularly on the tables of those who actually do cook (and I suppose those who buy ready-meals too).
Last night we had sausages (nice herby ones), mushrooms, mash made 50/50 parsnips (cheap 'basic' bag i.e. not standard EU size - topic for a other post I think) and potatoes (our home-grown), and onion gravy. Cost for lashings for three of us about £4.25. Though I say so myself the gravy was sweet and delicious. There's nothing wrong with good plain British cooking, though there would be if you closed your eyes to other options. Tonight then a chick-pea curry, made with freshly ground spices. Which has become good plain British cooking too.
Tuesday 6 September 2011
Damson Ice Cream
There is little of the weekend's cheaty damson ice cream left, for which thank the brilliant recipe of Nigel Slater, simultaneously our most interesting and annoying cookery writer, at least of those to whom I offer house room. I lifted the recipe, if something so simple merits the term, from Tender II. Buy a tub of decent supermarket custard (the cheaty bit), pick twice its weight in damsons, wash them then simmer with sugar to taste for about 10 minutes, leave to cool (eventually in the fridge) then sieve and combine the puree with the custard and whirl it in the ice cream maker. Fantastic colour, sharp fresh taste, lovely.
The annoyance part comes from a) calling too many things favourites and comfort food; b) his often prissy writing style, (reflected in the font used in the book). As a pastiche: Take 500g damsons. Nice ones the size of a sparrow's egg. Their blush as pure as a novice nun's thoughts. And sugar. Introduce the damsons in a pan to a bustling heat.
So I will buy his next book for the excellent ideas. And grit my teeth while reading it. And make more damson ice cream. Lots. Aargh, it's catching.
The annoyance part comes from a) calling too many things favourites and comfort food; b) his often prissy writing style, (reflected in the font used in the book). As a pastiche: Take 500g damsons. Nice ones the size of a sparrow's egg. Their blush as pure as a novice nun's thoughts. And sugar. Introduce the damsons in a pan to a bustling heat.
So I will buy his next book for the excellent ideas. And grit my teeth while reading it. And make more damson ice cream. Lots. Aargh, it's catching.
Wednesday 31 August 2011
Banking Reform
I listen with amazement to Angela Knight and her explanations of bankers as a separate caste, why it was not the fault of the bankers they lost all that money, why PPI was not really a rip-off, and why above all they deserve to be paid vast salaries.
Over the last 40 years the banks have lost fortunes in a variety of creative ways: 1) lending to African and South American dictators in the 1970s, money immediately siphoned off to Swiss accounts; 2) becoming 'one-stop shops' for all things financial and property in the late 1980s, buying estate agents and insurance companies for inflated prices, selling them off shortly afterwards for a fraction of same; 3) during the dotcom boom lending to sure-fire winners like spendcashgobust.com, and uselesstossers.com; 4) finally finding a way to trade pigs-in-pokes by creating derivatives they were unable to value, some based on lending to Billy-Bob-Jim-Joe in Arkansas so he could buy a large house, though he never had any hope of paying for it.
The banking market has failed, not only because banks have enjoyed in effect state guarantees on their bets, but because most of those at the top will have been involved in at least two of those fiascos but kept their jobs.
Over the last 40 years the banks have lost fortunes in a variety of creative ways: 1) lending to African and South American dictators in the 1970s, money immediately siphoned off to Swiss accounts; 2) becoming 'one-stop shops' for all things financial and property in the late 1980s, buying estate agents and insurance companies for inflated prices, selling them off shortly afterwards for a fraction of same; 3) during the dotcom boom lending to sure-fire winners like spendcashgobust.com, and uselesstossers.com; 4) finally finding a way to trade pigs-in-pokes by creating derivatives they were unable to value, some based on lending to Billy-Bob-Jim-Joe in Arkansas so he could buy a large house, though he never had any hope of paying for it.
The banking market has failed, not only because banks have enjoyed in effect state guarantees on their bets, but because most of those at the top will have been involved in at least two of those fiascos but kept their jobs.
Monday 29 August 2011
I Don't Like (Bank Holiday) Mondays
Raspberries coming thick and fast now on the allotment, yesterday's picking with same weight of our own cooking apples now three jars of sharp jam. Breakfast in bed this morning consisted of proper coffee and a couple of slices of toast spread with the new preserve. Everyday luxury, especially given we had the time to relax and savour it.
We hardly ever venture out on BHMs, knowing both traffic and rain are always around the corner. So we'll celebrate with a family feast of sorts tonight: the chicken liver pate is made and cooling. With the addition of some breadcrumbs, two of our eggs, an onion and three cloves of garlic we'll have about 1kg for £3, half for consumption this week the rest for the freezer. Eco in Northern Eco means economy as well as a certain respect for the environment. The chocolate cake (as the oven was already hot from making the pate) will be ready in 10 minutes, thank you the blessed Delia. And turkey fricassee - such a lovely word fricassee - will be quickly done tonight when needed.
Counting home-grown veg as free that makes three courses for about £6.50 Roughly the price of the bottle of wine from the ever excellent Artisan Wines that will accompany it. Opened a bottle of Gamay de Bouze from them yesterday and it was very good indeed as we have come to expect.
Pity the BHM weather is equally consistent, a few hours of sunshine would have given that extra lift to the proceedings. Bet Friday is a scorcher.
Wednesday 24 August 2011
Best Days
The best days in the professional freelancer's life are 1) when you get paid; 2) when you get notice to invoice; 3) when you get more work. So the last couple of days have been pretty good. Notice received yesterday to invoice for a piece I wrote for Lake District Life about sailing on Ullswater (we recently bought a boat built in 1981 and sail it from Glenridding), same day as I had a new commission confirmed for Harpers Wine and Spirit. And today a further list of travel pieces agreed for Information Britain.
That is of course a bit too cynical and materialistic. There are other benefits: last week I had a little epiphany at a breakfast which included eggs from our own chickens, and home-made jam from blackcurrants grown on our allotment. It was sunny, and with no immediate deadline my son and I decided to go to the boat (how grand that sounds for a fibre-glass near antique) for the day. So count future memories for currently teenage son among the advantages of the freelance life.
It proved to be out best trip on Ullswater so far. As ever the wind was changeable and pretty light (there must be blowy days on the water there but so far we have missed them), we were lazy and only put up the mainsail, but still skimmed across the water happily free of gin-palaces. Add to my lengthy list of people who will face immediate execution when eventually I come to absolute power bell ends in £250k powerboats (jealous, me?) who break the water speed limit and create unpleasant wakes.
If anyone wants the full list for publication I can be at your service in moments. Same goes for my thoughtful book of political theory 'Things to Stuff up a Politician's Arse.' A follow-up volume exploring similar themes for celebrities is underway even now. Surely the Christmas hit for 2012. And curmudgeon that I am would suggest something for the Olympics along roughly the same lines. There are several very public figures whose rear ends I would love to fill with cash to the value of what we have spent on the world's biggest sports day. My Winston Smith Room 101 torture would have to be listening to Sebastian Coe's droning voice telling critics of The 2012 Games (never I fear heard on BBC other than by accident) how lucky we are to pay so many billions, about three times the original estimate too, for a few days of circus entertainment.
Tuesday 23 August 2011
Back to Blogging
I was so impressed by the blog of one of my former classmates at UCLAN's Magazine Journalism MA, the brilliant Johanna Derry, that I felt inspired to begin blogging again. Too many of the other blogs I have read previously have been semi-literate, self-indulgent and less than informative. So fired with new enthusiasm for the medium I will give it another go.
As a freelance there have to be compensations for (relative) lack of money, and the foremost of them for me is variety. Recently I spent one day of a trip to East Anglia on research for three separate pieces: in the morning I went to Potter Heigham to take new pix of the Wherry Albion, and chat to a few of the members of the trust keeping her afloat. The early afternoon was spent on a tour of the Adnams Distillery in Southwold, which proved throughly enjoyable though driving kept me from any real tasting. Following that I met John Miller, a former Reuters correspondent in Moscow (whose book All Them Cornfields and Ballet in the Evening I can heartily recommend) regarding a gardening feature about George Orwell that I hope will appear in Grow Your Own (the curse of the unconnected and even after five years unknown writer is the "write it and we'll see" offer). That is variety.
The Adnams visit was in response to an offer, at the time feeling more like a threat, after I had given a poor review to their First Rate Gin, and has generated a commisison for Harpers Wine and Spirit, and in turn another for them, which says something for getting out of the office.
As a freelance there have to be compensations for (relative) lack of money, and the foremost of them for me is variety. Recently I spent one day of a trip to East Anglia on research for three separate pieces: in the morning I went to Potter Heigham to take new pix of the Wherry Albion, and chat to a few of the members of the trust keeping her afloat. The early afternoon was spent on a tour of the Adnams Distillery in Southwold, which proved throughly enjoyable though driving kept me from any real tasting. Following that I met John Miller, a former Reuters correspondent in Moscow (whose book All Them Cornfields and Ballet in the Evening I can heartily recommend) regarding a gardening feature about George Orwell that I hope will appear in Grow Your Own (the curse of the unconnected and even after five years unknown writer is the "write it and we'll see" offer). That is variety.
The Adnams visit was in response to an offer, at the time feeling more like a threat, after I had given a poor review to their First Rate Gin, and has generated a commisison for Harpers Wine and Spirit, and in turn another for them, which says something for getting out of the office.
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