Lotties, Lynne and Lentils

Did you remember to change your clocks? Well, it’s an hour less in lockdown, I suppose. It’s now officially British Summer Time, which accounts for the sleet showers being flung against the window this morning by a howling north-east gale. Very summery.

We live opposite the village allotments – lucky us. I love ‘lotties’, they’re so peaceful and calming, a little oasis. We've been taking our allowable “once-a-day” walk there - we admire or insult other people’s fruit and veg crops. “Wow, look at the size of their red onions!” or “Our rhubarb looks a lot better than that!” All the plots look very tidy and well-tended – a nice way of getting some air and exercise. Only a few people were working over there on Friday; they raised their hands, waving in a resigned, socially-distanced type of way.

Jeff Lynne. What can I say? He’s the man I need at a time like this. Well, not so much Jeff himself, although I love him, it’s more his music (other musical acts are available). Mr Simply said he needed a blast of normality last night – he put Jeff on and blew the dust out of the soundbar and speakers.

Apologies to anyone within earshot… unfortunately for them, I know all the words….

I’ve made some curried red lentil and vegetable soup, using some fairly disreputable looking veg lurking in the fridge – the sort I used to throw in the compost bin. Not now. Three bendy carrots, five limp sticks of celery, an onion, a tin of tomatoes, half a mug of red lentils and a good spoonful of curry paste with some Marigold stock made a huge pot of soup which will provide four day’s lunches. Jamie Oliver..? Who’s he?

Intrepid as ever, we ventured out in the car to a local farm shop. They had milk!! And eggs, fruit, veg, pasta, lentils and chickpeas. The excitement!! I ordered by phone and they left a box outside the shop for us to collect. All done without coming into contact with a single soul… but I do miss having a wander round Waitrose.

Look at the cauli I got – size of a football.

Wait there, my beauty, I have plans for you...

Hair... and the NHS

God, my hair needs cutting.

I had an appointment booked but my lovely hairdresser is now closed for the duration so I’ll shortly have to take the scissors to the barnet and hope for the best. Thankfully, I’ve never resorted to hair dye – badly-cut shaggy dog is not a good look and if your roots need doing as well…. just be thankful you can't go out. You'd only frighten people.

I s'pose I could wear a hat but, sadly, the only one I have is a battered floral number that’s seen better days – difficult to say which is worse, really… the hair or the hat.

And now, a little word about the NHS. Like most people, I’ve seen the good and the bad sides of it and I’ve called it every name under the sun at times. Now, as I said, I haven’t been well recently and under lockdown I’ve had no easy way to get my meds. Step forward Mrs Doc – she’s a GP who lives next door; every day, after doing a full day at the surgery, she’s delivering prescription meds to people in the village. That is dedication – Madam, I salute you.

She left my little parcel of meds on the front porch at about 7pm, rang the bell and stepped back five paces – I could have bloody kissed her!

So, in deep gratitude, Mr Simply and I stood on our porch at 8pm, along with many others across the country and, with tears streaming down my face, we “Clapped for our NHS”… not the sort of thing I’d normally do but these are not normal times. If things were normal, I’d not be sitting here posting drivel online (which is actually only a modern way of talking to yourself) just to keep myself sane, would I?

Picked some rhubarb this morning and made compote to have with porridge; while I was out there, I gave the plum and apple trees a pep talk – I’m hoping for great things from them later in the year, so they'd better buck up.

By the time I’m picking plums, this bloody virus had better be over.

I'm back...

Hi. It’s me.

I mothballed this blog five years ago…. times changed, I got older and I’d fallen out of love with cooking. I left it up as my own personal recipe book, it still gets a few daily views – I had no thought in my head of ever resurrecting it – I’d moved on…. then COVID-19 whipped the rug from under us just as I went down with an unrelated illness.

So here we are in lockdown – day 1 seemed OKish, bit odd but not bad, but it’s day 2 and I’m climbing the bloody curtains! Health issues and age have tipped me and Mr Simply into the “older, vulnerable” category, apparently. Me…old and vulnerable? Whaddya mean… who the bloody hell d’you think you’re talking to??!

Nothing seems normal and all the structures and patterns in our lives have shifted.

I don’t do Facebook, I’ve tried forums and messageboards (but they’re full of the type of people I’d cross the road to avoid!) and, although it’s OK for a short rant at politicians or the BBC, 240 characters on Twitter doesn’t allow for lengthy discourse. So, I thought I’d use this as a space to ramble, vent and quite possibly have a bloody good moan when I want one.

You can read it if you like – it won’t be profound, I’m not that type of person, and I may take it down when the current crisis is over but, for now, it’s an outlet and it gives me something to do. I might even mention food occasionally if the mood takes me.

We sat in the garden and had a cup of tea yesterday; given that I wasn’t going out, I realised I looked like someone else had got me dressed in the dark. It didn’t help that I was accessorised by pom-pom slippers and a floral sunhat. Stylish or what? The sun was out, not particularly warm but it made a change from being in the house and wondering whether I should have bought more milk.

Is this what prison feels like?

Creamy Celeriac Soup

It’s been absolutely freezing outside today – the kind of January day when soup is required and nothing but soup will do. Once this morning’s biting wind had died down it started to snow like billy-o this afternoon – it’s settled but there isn’t enough to make a snowman. It looks very pretty though.

I picked up a decent sized celeriac when we were shopping yesterday – I’m not sure what I was planning to do with it. It’s funny stuff, celeriac, not the most attractive of vegetables; it looks more like something you'd use to prop the back door open! Looks aren't everything, though; it has a fabulous earthy taste - like celery with delusions of grandeur. I thought I’d give some soup a whirl for our lunch.

It worked out really well, very creamy and very warming; perfect with a couple of slices of homemade seedy bread.

750g celeriac
1 medium onion
1 medium floury potato
2 sticks of celery
1tbsp olive oil
1lt stock
250ml milk

chopped parsley
few grinds of black pepper


Run a peeler down the sticks of celery to take off any stringy bits, then chop roughly. Peel and chop the rest of the veg.

Heat the oil gently in a large pan; add all the veg, lower the heat and put a lid on the pan. Sweat the veg for 10 mins then add the stock; bring to a boil, turn the heat to a simmer and cook for 20 mins until tender.

Take off the heat, add the milk and blitz until completely smooth and silky, adding a little more stock if necessary.

Reheat gently and serve with a sprinkle of chopped parsley and a good grind of black pepper.

Christmas Cake - a bit more festive

Well, here we have the finished article for this year.

In truth it doesn’t look much different from the one I usually do although the cake itself, under the topping, is entirely different as you will have seen from the post below. I seem to have hit on a winning formula for the topping of the cake a few years ago; it works for us and if it ain’t broke I won’t fix it.

There’s a very good chance that it’ll be cut into quite soon, since Mr S-V keeps giving it the eye every time he opens the pantry door! As he quite rightly points out, though, there’s no sense in keeping everything back to eat at Christmas because it’s just not humanly possible to have a taste of all the goodies in one day. You can’t deny his logic…

1 18cm square rich fruit cake
white marzipan
a little icing sugar
3 tbsp apricot jam
1 tbsp brandy
soft dried apricots
whole brazils
whole pecans or walnuts

ribbon







Make the glaze by heating the jam and brandy gently in a small pan until the jam melts, then rub the mixture through a sieve with the back of a spoon.

Using a pastry brush, paint the top of your cake generously with the glaze; roll out the marzipan to a depth of about 0.5cm on a surface lightly dusted with icing sugar and cut to size using the base of your cake tin as a guide. Lay the marzipan on top of the cake and brush with more glaze.

Arrange the fruit and nuts on the marzipan, pressing them in lightly, then brush generously with the rest of the glaze.

Tie the ribbon round the side of the cake.

Store in an airtight tin in a cool place.

Update: 22.12.14

Cake has been cut and sampled - a resounding success. Really fruity with a moist texture. Oh, my poor expanding waistline... Many thanks to Russell at Flatford for a brilliant recipe.

This Year's Christmas Cake

Well here we are in the first week of November and I’m already getting ready for Christmas. If I’m not careful I’ll be getting ahead of myself!

Over the weekend the house smelt like Christmas had already arrived; I made our Christmas pudding on Saturday and on Sunday I made this years’ cake. I used a recipe by Russell Clement, Catering Manager at Flatford, one of the National Trust’s properties. The recipe was on the back of our latest newsletter and I was intrigued by it – I’ve never seen a recipe where some of the fruit was blitzed and then mixed in, but it sounded so good I just had to give it a try. Obviously I haven’t tasted the cake yet but if the taste of the mixture (when I ran my finger round the empty bowl!) is anything to go by it’s definitely a winner.

 

It looks pretty damn fine to me as it is, but I’ll top it with marzipan and a pattern of glazed nuts and fruit to prettify it a bit. Can’t wait to have a slice with a cuppa a bit nearer the big day!

 

I emailed Flatford to ask them if I could use Russell’s recipe on the blog and they very kindly agreed, so here it is in its entirety… The only thing I changed was the baking time, although that may be my oven; I ended up cooking it for exactly 3 hours.

 

Fruit-packed Christmas Cake

 

100g dried pears, finely chopped
100g dried apple, finely chopped
150g raisins
300g sultanas
50g dried sour cherries
100g dried cranberries
50g best quality candied peel, finely chopped
40g candied stem ginger, finely chopped
¼ tsp ground cloves
2 bay leaves
2 clementines, zest and juice
150ml liqueur e.g. Cointreau, Kirsch, Cassis or Framboise
50g hazelnuts, blanched (or skins removed)
50g almonds, blanched
200g butter, unsalted
175g dark brown muscovado sugar
4 free-range eggs at room temp, beaten
250g SR flour

 

1.The night before you bake the cake, place all the prepared dry fruit, ginger, ground cloves, bay leaves, zest and juice of the clementines and the booze into a large non-reactive bowl and mix well. Take a big sniff (it's heady stuff and smells wonderful!) then cover and leave to steep overnight in a cool place.

 

2.Grease and line a 20cm cake tin. (I used an 18cm square tin) Leave the parchment protruding around the edge of the tin, standing about 5-6cm proud of the edge to protect the cake during the long cooking.  Pre-heat the oven to 125C (fan) or 150C (conventional).

 

3.Toast the nuts until golden brown, place them in a processor and pulse until they are finely chopped. Add the nuts to the fruit mixture, remove the bay leaves, mix well and put 350g of the fruit and nut mixture back into the processor. Blend to a thick paste.

 

4.Beat the sugar and butter together until the sugar has dissolved then slowly combine the eggs, beating well after each addition. Fold in the flour, then stir in the paste and the rest of the fruit and nut mixture.

 

5.Spoon the mix into the tin and level the surface well. Bake in the pre-heated oven for 2-2½ hours. Check the cake by inserting a skewer or knife into the centre and see that it comes away clean.

 

 

6.Leave the cake in the tin to cool then remove, leaving the parchment in place, and wrap tightly in foil until the big day.

 

7.This cake is very versatile, it will take any kind of finish you like from a simple glaze to draping in fondant so let your imagination guide you!

Foie Gras...it's a matter of choice

OK, I’m a fool to myself and I’ll probably wish I’d kept my mouth shut but here goes…

I saw a link to this news item from the Vegetarian Society on Twitter today and it really made me angry. It illustrates why I sometimes hate being labelled ‘a vegetarian’ and why I could never be a member of the Veg Soc. I just can’t stand their preaching and I really don’t want to be associated with it. Is it any wonder that omnivores complain about veggies always being so 'holier than thou' about not eating meat? 

 

Take this simplistic, naïve statement from the Veg Soc in the piece above, for example “The production of foie gras is unnecessary”. On the contrary, foie gras is entirely necessary for someone who wants to eat it. In these days of food being transported around the world, with strawberries and asparagus available in December, ‘necessity’ is beside the point – it’s about freedom and personal choice. Right now… do I ‘need’ a piece of coffee and walnut cake? No, of course not, but I’d damn well like some! Others may feel the same about foie gras.

I am obviously not in favour of animal cruelty but I’m also not afraid to face the unpalatable fact of life that animals are still seen as less important and more expendable than humans…this isn't going to change, ’twas ever thus. Animal cruelty will never be eradicated as long as there are living humans on this planet. While there is money to be made from selling an animal related item there will be people willing to buy said item. 

I can’t stop every instance of animal exploitation – I can only do what is right for me; but what I won't do is preach to others or tell them how to behave. If someone wants to eat a steak or foie gras or sea bass…go ahead, I hope you enjoy it. Just don’t ask me to join in.