Soused Courgettes, and other news..

So I have only gone and got myself a proper job!! It's still sinking in but I applied for and got my absolute dream job last month, one I had no idea could exist until I saw it for myself, and which I couldn't have dreamt up if I'd tried. And I genuinely think it was written for me. Teaching what is called Outdoor Work, at Bedales in Hampshire, a quite famous progressive private school near the beautiful leafy New Forest, ten miles from the south coast.
I'm taking on a listed wood-fired bake-house, two poly-tunnels, glasshouses, vegetable plots, sheep, goats, pigs, an alpaca, butchery, cheese-making, chickens, bees, timber framing, coracle building, blacksmithing, welding, mechanics, weaving, spinning, knitting.... I could go on.. (and do, to anyone who'll listen).


http://www.bedales.org.uk/bedales/curriculum/outdoor-work-0

I'll be teaching GCSE-age kids all sorts of traditional cookery methods, making produce from the vegetables and animals on the farm to sell to parents and visitors, spinning and weaving the wool from the sheep into blankets, building animal shelters, foraging.... Oh and driving a tractor :))) It's beyond amazing. I am just so excited about all the things I'm going to be doing, and about some of the momentous projects we are already planning. All the same, a huge move, for my husband and of course the kids. Lots of change, new schools and friends, and a very long way to go. Which is why I've been quiet on the blog front - so much to sort out and discuss and plan.. And it will be a while yet 'til everything is settled again. But then I'll be posting all about my new life - hopefully with some exciting recipes, photos, and inspiration...


First up though some experimentation. On my second visit to the school there was a glut of courgettes and marrows, yellow, green and stripy, in the poly-tunnels. And if you have ever grown courgettes you'll know that thinking of ways to use them up is an endless task (Google courgette recipes and you get over a million results). Courgette fritters, courgette bread, courgette jam, courgette cake, courgette chutney, etc etc... I took some home and having decided against kimchi (my other choice - it's a little too volatile in terms of keeping for this time, though I am determined to make some soon, I love the stuff! I've been reading The Art of Fermentation, by Sandor Ellix Katz - It's a bonkers bible to all things anaerobic, from sake to miso, sauerkraut to sourdough.. worth a read, it will make you religious about kimchi if you're not already :)). Anyway, this crunchy light pickle is what I ended up with - it put me in mind of the same sweet spicy hit you get from soused mackerel or rollmops - hence the name.. I have adapted the recipe as you may not want twenty jars of the stuff.

Soused Courgettes

500g courgettes, washed and peeled into ribbons with a peeler.
2 tablespoons of salt
water

Pickling liquid:
one onion sliced thinly
500ml cider vinegar
140g caster sugar
teaspoon chilli flakes
teaspoon mustard seeds
teaspoon coriander seeds

sprigs of rosemary and oregano
whole dried chillies


Wash your jars in hot soapy water, rinse then place in a baking dish and heat in a low oven (150 degrees) with the lids to sterilise.
Sprinkle the courgette ribbons liberally with salt and mix. Leave for about twenty minutes to let the courgettes drain of excess water. Rinse thoroughly in running water then place in a muslin cloth and wring out as much water as you can, without crushing them too much.
In a large pan bring all the pickling ingredients to a simmer, with the onions, and simmer for about ten minutes. Add the courgettes and heat through. Take off the heat and distribute into the still hot jars so they are full, with a sprig or two of herbs or chilli, then adding the pickling liquid to cover the courgettes. Screw lids on firmly and clean. Leave to cool somewhere dark and cool. They should keep easily for 6 months, and once opened keep in the fridge. I think these would go beautifully with cold meats or cheese, or even some poached fish, or added to a potato salad.

Fennel and saffron fish stew

We are very lucky where we live - about as far from the sea in any direction as I've ever lived, and we have the best fishmongers. Barkworths, in the Market Hall in Shrewsbury is brilliant, well stocked, well informed, with accurate sourcing and advice on sustainable fish, locally caught fish and some amazing extras - smoked carrageen, potted crab, fresh samphire... plus a couple of little tables where you can order fresh bouillabaisse or mussels with some chilled Chablis from Tanners up the road. It's pretty amazing. I am aware that I sound about as middle class as it's possible to be, but hey, I might as well own it. I like nice food, and nice wine, ok? I cant really afford it all the time, but I try.
Anyhow, where was I? So there's this incredible fishmonger, I try and get there once every couple of weeks, and am sometimes at a loss as to what to get that won't blast our weekly shopping budget and will keep the kids happy too. In this slightly iffy weather, which is boiling hot one minute and chucking it with rain the next, this spiced, tomato-ey soup/stew is perfect. Warming, comforting and yet not out of place on a warm night with some chilled white Rioja. You could make it spicier if it was just for the grown ups.

Fennel and saffron fish stew, serves 4 easily

1lb/500g of fish pie mix - smoked haddock, salmon, some smaller bits of firm white fish which I think was pollock? - whatever your fishmonger chuck in I guess. It works out about £6 or £7 and is enough for a family of four easily.
1lb/500g of small new potatoes - little waxy ones are best for this, you want them to keep their shape, cut into halves, skin on if clean
1 large Onion sliced
2 cloves garlic
1 plum tomato, chopped roughly
1 fennel bulb sliced in thick slices. keep the fronds for serving
1 red bell pepper cut into medium sized chunks
small bunch flat leaf parsley
large pinch saffron
2 teaspoons paprika - the sweet variety
1/2 chorizo cut into smallish cubes
1/2 litre stock - I used chicken but fish is obviously best if you have it
1 tin plum tomatoes
A couple of chillies (optional)


In a large measuring jug pour about 1/2 litre boiled water over the saffron strands and leave to infuse. Fry the onion, fennel and garlic in a good glug of olive oil until translucent, then add the chorizo, the pepper, the tomato and the paprika. sauté everything until it begins to brown, then add the potatoes, the chillies if using, and any left over parsley or fennel stalks - you will remove these later but they add tons of flavour. Also a wedge of lemon if you have it. Pour the saffron water, stock and tinned tomatoes on top and stir well. Leave to bubble away on a medium heat for at least 40 minutes, until the liquid is a rich red and packed full of flavour. It should not be too thick, more like a soup at this stage, but the liquid should be a bit unctuous. When you're happy, either take it off the heat, move the stalks and lemon and set aside until you're ready to eat, or proceed. Add the fish pieces, I like mine chunky, and cook for a few minutes, until the fish is cooked through but not falling apart. Throw in a large handful of finely chopped flat leaf parsley and fennel and season with salt and pepper to taste. It may want more lemon juice. Serve with more chopped herbs on top and some crusty bread and butter, and ideally some crisp white wine :) (and you might want to put a big bib on the baby - this could get messy, and bright red fish juice is hard to get out...)

easy peasy child friendly chicken

I'm off on my first child free weekend in quite a while the day after tomorrow, and have just started a new job, so these first few sunny days of the week, with a very grumbly teething baby and not enough hours in the day have necessitated some easy quick dinners. The hours between four and six are known as the witching hours in our house... Trying to make dinner, entertain two kids and then get them to bed without tears is a daily challenge. This dinner, super quick, and loved by both the six year old and the 11 month old, was probably as much work as getting fish fingers and oven chips out of the freezer, and was so much nicer. It was made to the soundtrack of a loudly shouting baby trying to shuffle around on the kitchen floor and get in the cupboards, a manic six year old running around at my feet, all while face-timing my husband who's working away. In the twenty minutes it took to make, the baby pulled a glass off the side and smashed it, I de-greenflied the roses, and even managed to take photos of the resulting meal! Some sort of medal must exist for mothers who manage to do all this without having a meltdown (or a very large G & T at four in the afternoon), surely??

So, here it is, easy peasy chicken, lol.

One pack of free range chicken fillets - or just get two chicken breasts and cut into thick strips.

Mix a large handful of breadcrumbs with one finely chopped garlic clove, a tablespoon of fresh thyme, a few sprigs of rosemary, salt, pepper and a teaspoon of fennel seeds (these go beautifully with chicken!). Lay out a large double layer square of clingfilm on a surface, then drape each chicken strip in the breadcrumb mix on both sides before arranging on the clingfilm. Do all the chicken pieces, ensuring they are evenly coated on both sides with the breadcrumbs, then cover with another two layers of clingfilm. Then take out all the pent up aggression you have by beating the chicken with a large rolling pin until flattened, and all the breadcrumbs have been mushed into the meat. This not only tenderises the meat, it makes the chicken much easier and quicker to cook as it should be les than a cm thick once you're done, and it gets the flavours right inside the chicken meat.
Heat a griddle pan (or frying pan if you don't have one) and add a little olive oil. Lay the pieces of chicken gently into the pan and press down firmly. All the pieces should fit in to one pan - lay them close together. Fry the chicken on both sides until golden brown - on a high heat it will take about five minutes on each side, adding a few sliced tomatoes in to griddle with the chicken. We had ours simple -  with boiled spuds and steamed broccoli - but I chucked the potatoes in the griddle pan after the chicken was done, purely for flavour. We drizzled a little pesto over the lot to add colour and zing. Yummy.

So we just have one more hot afternoon to survive where I'm on my own after work with two grumpy hyper kids.. then I'm off to Singapore for the weekend :))) beyond excited... Am planning to eat lots of food, take lots of pictures, and generally go on and on about it for quite some time. Think I packed my bag about three weeks ago, and have talked of little else to anyone who'll listen.
It will probably be fish fingers and oven chips tomorrow night :)

Gugelhupf - German yeasted crown cake

Gugelhupf – Almond raisin yeasted crown cake

 A traditional German Gugelhupf, this is a sweet yeasted cake made with raisins, almonds and a little lemon zest. Adding candied lemon or orange peel would make it very similar to a panettone. It is almost a less buttery version of a brioche. You can get a gugelhupf tin from Lakeland. Make sure it is well greased and the breadcrumbs make sure the cake doesn't stick.

500g plain flour

1 teaspoon dried yeast

125g caster sugar

zest of one lemon

I pinch salt

3 eggs

200ml crème fraiche

200g melted cooled butter

75g blanched sliced almonds

150g raisins

breadcrumbs (panko are good)

Melt the butter in a saucepan and leave aside to cool. Sift the flour intoa a large bowl, and add the yeast, sugar, lemon zest, salt, eggs crème fraiche and butter and mix with a dough hook for around five minutes, until it is an evenly combined, whole sticky dough. Cover with a cloth and leave somewhere warm to rise, for about an hour or so, until visibly risen.

Throw in the almonds and raisins, knead in until well distributed, then stretch the dough into a sausage shape and plop into your well greased and dusted with breadcrumb gugelhupf tin. Leave again, for another hour or so, until risen. Then bake in a preheated oven at 180 degrees C for about 30 mins. I covered it for the last five minutes with silver foil to stop it burning. A skewer should come out clean when inserted. Tip out onto a wire rack to cool then dust with a thick layer of icing sugar before serving. Perfect for afternoon coffee or with ice cream.

Oh, and this? This is just a picture of my ridiculously cute baby being a bit weird while I bake. Sorry. Couldn't help myself, I had to share :)

Gooseberry and elderflower torte

Gooseberry and elderflower torte
(Stachelbeer und holunderblueten torte)

For the base

300g plain flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

150g cream cheese

100ml milk

100ml vegetable oil

75g sugar

half teaspoon vanilla extract

pinch salt

For the Filling

800g gooseberries

150ml elderflower cordial

450g cream cheese

250g crème fraiche

200g sugar

3 large eggs

2 eggyolks (the whites make the meringue – do not discard)

50g melted cooled butter

50g cornflour

For the meringue top

2 eggwhites

100g sugar

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C. 

Over a gentle heat cook the gooseberries in the cordial until softened but not completely disintegrated – keep gently stirring to ensure they cook evenly. Tip into a sieve set over a jug and leave to cool and drain.

In a large mixing bowl sift the flour and baking powder together, then add the cream cheese, milk, oil, sugar, vanilla and salt and beat with an electric mixer with the dough hook for about a minute until the dough combines, but no longer as it will start to stick. Press this into the base of a well oiled 20cm springfrom cake tin.

In the rinsed and cleaned mixing bowl now put the cream cheese, crème fraiche, sugar, eggs, egg yolks, melted butter and corn flour and beat on a high speed with a whisk until well combined and creamy. Fold in the gooseberry mix – they have been drained but are like a thick puree. The draining liquid will form the sauce for the finished torte so keep this aside. Pour the mix onto the dough in the cake tin, cover with a piece of tin foil that has been folded down the middle to allow for expansion, and bake in the centre of the preheated oven for about 30-30 minutes. It will rise to the very edge of the tin so beware! Once it has set, it will be a little wobbly still.

In the meantime, in the same cleaned and thoroughly dried mixing bowl whisk the two egg whites on a high speed until very stiff – so you can leave peaks – then slowly add the sugar in a steady stream as you beat it until you have a stiff meringue mix. Spread this onto the cake, swirling into soft peaks with a fork, and bake for a further 5-10 minutes, until it is lightly browned all over. Remove (without catching the edge on the bl*@dy oven rack as I did...) and leave to cool completely before removing from the springform.

bake like a german

My mum recently had a clear out, she seems to have these periodically, moving furniture and throwing out old stuff. In fact it seems to run in the family - all three Charpentier girls seem to love 'moving rooms' a regular change around of furniture and stuff. Rarely does a week go by when one of us isn't bringing a bag of clothes we've gotten bored of to the other's house to 'process'. All I can say is I feel sorry for our husbands and boyfriends :) My husband regularly comes home from work to find the sitting room and dining room have been swapped around and all our furniture has been donated to charity because I've decided we need a more minimalist life :)

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, my mum and her clear out. So, this time it was books. Most of our childhood books, mainly the German ones, and then these beauties: My great-grandmothers and my mum's first husband's mother's (whose surname and title I inherited) recipe books. One Northern German, the other Alsace-French german. The writing so beautifully spidery and scrawled I can barely read it, in the old gothic style that predates the first world war. One in French, the other German. The french grand-mere even left her cigarette on her book once, and it's burned a hauntingly emotive hole in the front. Which recipe was she cooking when she smoked that cigarette? What was her kitchen like? Why did she get distracted? Did she burn the cake at the same time? And what swear words did she use when she noticed the smell of burning leather, did she swear at all or did she shrug it off with a gallic 'pa'? This was the lady who had a recipe for homemade cherry brandy no less, so it might be connected.

These two recipe books, both at least a hundred years old (My German great-grandmother wrote the date and place she started hers: 17th October, 1907, Bonn) are the most precious material thing I own now. They supersede even the very beautiful gold edged crockery and the fob watch my grandfather owned. They include recipes for grand meals, simple loaves, salads, cakes, puddings, soups and sauces, and the French one has a whole section on spirits - a recipe for Chartreuse no less, next to recipe for chocolate mousse. How I would have loved to have been there for that day!
This glimpse into what they cooked, what they ate, is beyond romantic to me. I have decided that before these two books fall apart completely I need to at least make an attempt to transcribe them, and make some of the things in them.

The biggest section, the part where they have scribbled on every single available page, is the baking sections, in both books. Hardly surprising that Germany is famous for its baking really. Not just its bread, its rye and its pumpernickel, but also its kaffee und kuchen, the apple cakes and the black forest gateaus, the sacher torte and the stollen. So many incredible cakes. So that's the section I'm going to start with. Bear with me while I spend the next few millennia trying out these ancient recipes. I'm hoping they give us some hints we have forgotten, and are interesting to you, my single lonely reader, whoever you are... (If you're reading this and enjoying it, or not, do let me know, I'd love some feedback! Thanks!)

The first recipe that grabs me, and one of the simplest, is one for a redcurrant cheesecake and meringue type torte. lots of layers, and ingredients, but relatively simple. I've adapted the ingredients slightly. see next post :)

Cacao, date and walnut bread

I never, ever thought I'd utter the following sentence. And I think there are some people I know who will guffaw into their coffee when they read it. If asked what my most used kitchen gadget (after my beloved Japanese knife and coffee machine) would be, I'd have to be honest and say... bread maker. yes I know. As an ex 'artisan' baker, known for making slow-fermented, slow-risen, artisanal loaves with love, care and attention to detail, this seems a little strange. For years I told customers in the bakery, if they had a bread maker, then that was great, at least better than buying supermarket pap, but that nothing could beat making and kneading your bread by hand. And I stand by that. Nothing is better than watching your hand mixed yeasty dough rise, and kneading the cool, elastic, pliant dough with your bare hands. Somehow having done all that the smell of the crusty loaf in the oven is all the sweeter. And yet. And yet. I now use the bread maker a friend of mine gave us when she kept some of her stuff at our house during a home move almost every day. We eat a lot of bread, this family. Toast for breakfast, late lunch, evening snacks, for solace, energy, a quick boost, babies and grown ups alike. There's a reason this blog has that name. Baked goods are the way to our hearts, and the reason we have to exercise regularly!
I can't bake a fresh loaf every day by hand, I have a life to lead (of sorts). And I tried doing a weekly bake - we still ran out halfway through, and our freezer was always too full of bread for anything else to go in there. I love that fresh bread smell, and this way I get it every day. It also works out pretty cost effective too. A £2 bag of white flour does at least week's bread, excluding added ingredients.
Loaves from our bread maker are not half bad either. They're not as crusty, granted, and they are not half as chewy and substantial as a hand made sourdough. But they're tasty, fresh, healthy and full of all sorts of random stuff I chuck in as I'm making them. Our current favourite is this strange mix, great for breakfast or a sneaky mid afternoon snack, not sweet really, a strong cocoa flavour with a hint of nuttiness, but perfectly suited to sweet toppings like honey or nutella.... Even good with cheese, weirdly. A strong cheddar ideally, and a few slices of ripe pear.
BTW...You could substitute the dates, walnuts and cacao for the same weight in mixed seeds, or oats, muesli, dried fruit, or even grated veg like courgettes and carrots. I'm sure I've ranted about bread here before, but it's not half as scientific and restrictive as the purists would have you believe. Half the fun is in chucking something in and seeing what happens, especially with a bread machine. there's something magic about throwing things in a pot, and three hours later pulling out a steaming browned loaf, not knowing what it will taste like. Add yoghurt or beer instead of water, or chuck in something in your cupboard you haven't tried before. We've even had nice bread by adding uneaten porridge to the mix, or the fruit pulp from your juicer. And if it doesn't work, try something else!

Cacao, date and walnut bread.

400g strong white flour
100g wholemeal flour
1 teaspoon dried yeast
1 teaspoon salt
100g chopped dates
50g walnuts, broken up
50g cocoa nibs (from holland and barrett)
1 tablespoon raw cacao

Chuck all the above in your bread tin, then add 350 ml warm water. I use a panasonic machine, on the standard setting for a large loaf.

pastry rules

Here it is. The truth, like you've (almost always) heard it before. Most chefs don't make their own pastry. I know. shocking. If they do they're as proud of it as you would be. Puff pastry especially. I used to bake croissants for the shop, every saturday. I had to start the night before, rolling out butter, and layers and layers of pastry, folding and rolling, every few hours, panicking about the ambient air temperature, and in the end be rewarded with beautiful flaky little delicacies, yes, but were they worth it? Marginally, maybe. If I had charged what they had taken in (wo)man hours they would have been hundreds of pounds! Pastry can be fun to make, and certainly I would always make my own shortcrust, but most of the time life is too full of other more valuable things to be doing (like reading the paper - oh if only...)
So, puff pastry from the shops is ace. And such a great cheat dinner, as most of you probably already know. This is not a life changing, unusual recipe. Just what we had for dinner last night, and it was tasty, and everyone liked it, even the baby.
So here it is: Spinach, egg and sausage tart.

One block of puff pastry, rolled out to fit a large-ish baking tray, which has been well oiled. Preheat the oven to 190 degrees.
In a large non stick pan sauté one chopped onion, half a dozen butcher's sausages, snipped into chunks with scissors, one courgette peeled into ribbons and a handful of chestnut mushrooms. cook on a medium heat until all is browned and sizzling nicely. In a separate pan wilt a large bag of washed spinach down, then drain thoroughly.
Spread a tablespoon or two of pesto over the base of your pastry, cover with the spinach and then the sausage mix. Ensure it is evenly spread, then crack half a dozen eggs into pockets all over the tart (we   had the lovely luck of loads of double yolkers in our box of eggs, which pleased Matilda no end). Grate a little cheddar all over this, and sprinkle with thyme (or any other fresh herbs you have to hand - sage or a little rosemary will do too). Bake for about twenty to thirty minutes, until the eggs are set and the pastry has risen and is golden and crispy. Serve on its own, with PSB (purple sprouting broccoli - I can never be bothered to write all that :) or a simple salad. Even nicer the next day, cold, but it never lasts that long in our house!

Our boots blessed with gold

Went for a rather lovely walk this bank holiday afternoon with the baby and the hubby - up the river, along muddy banks thronged with cowslips and forget me nots, and shaded by white and the palest pink blossomed hawthorn. there were cows munching on clover, birds twittering away, the river slow and leisurely.
The same fields and river banks where Wilfred Owen walked along as a boy - and it was apparently where he came up with some of the lines for Spring Offensive, one of the more goose-bumpy war poems I've read. At once a poem about the beautiful every day, a walk in a sunlit flower filled field. And yet not, this foreboding of menace and dread - terrifying in its contrast. He can have had no idea of what was to come as he played there as a boy, no concept of the terror we humans would inflict upon one another. I feel a little trite using some of it to describe the pleasant walk we had, but it was with us as we walked and talked, picking flowers, showing baby River all this beauty, thinking about how lucky we are.

Marvelling they stood, and watched the long grass swirled

By the May breeze, murmurous with wasp and midge,
For though the summer oozed into their veins
Like the injected drug for their bones' pains,
Sharp on their souls hung the imminent line of grass,
Fearfully flashed the sky's mysterious glass.

Hour after hour they ponder the warm field —
And the far valley behind, where the buttercups
Had blessed with gold their slow boots coming up,
Where even the little brambles would not yield,
But clutched and clung to them like sorrowing hands;
They breathe like trees unstirred.

comfort quiche

Less philosophising, more cooking today - a wholesome rustic quiche lorraine of sorts. The pastry was a bit thrown together, with butter that was too soft and probably too many seeds. But still yummy, crumbly and buttery.

For the pastry: 150g butter, 150g plain white flour and 20g wholemeal flour, pinch seasalt, a tablespoon of mixed seeds (I used sunflower, pumpkin and poppy) and a small bunch of chopped thyme from the garden. I used very soft butter, worked it all to a consistent dough then wrapped it in clingfilm and chucked it in the freezer for twenty minutes. Not ideal but it works if you really need quiche quickly (yes, this was one of those times - no sleep, again, nothing in the fridge except lots of eggs, and a hungry horde).

Fry two sliced onions and a couple of rashers of bacon, chopped, until lightly browned. add three or four cherry tomatoes cut in half to warm through. Leave to cool slightly in the pan while you prepare the eggs.

In a measuring jug whisk six eggs with a fork, add salt and pepper, then add about 100 ml of double cream and another 100-150 ml of milk. Mix well.

Roll out the chilled pastry - it is very short so will be a pain tow work - and squish into your buttered quiche tin, making sure it's an even thickness, there are no holes, and it goes up the sides sufficiently to hold your filling. Then spread the onion and bacon mix over the base, spreading the tomato halves evenly. Grate a little cheddar over it, then pour in the egg mix. I sprinkled a few snipped chives on top.
Bake at 180 C for around 25-30 mins, until the middle is no longer wobbly. Leave to cool then serve, with simple green salad. Or eat it straight out of the pan, like we did. It was an emergency comfort quiche situation after all.

Self - insufficiency

No, the title above does not refer to my parenting skills. I am acutely aware with this blog that what I often have to say is what millions of other stay-at-home lefty liberal foodie mums have to say. Being original in the era of the internet is pretty tricky. Being a mum is hard. And choosing food with conscience is even trickier. But maybe some of the things we take for granted are actually not what they appear..
I was brought up on a smallholding (though that word didn't exist when I was little - we just had lots of animals - a whole herd of goats - grew our own veg, baked our own bread, and didn't have a telly). Crisps were what we saw in our friends cupboards when we visited them. As exotic as Barbie dolls and pot noodles. My mother, who emigrated from Germany when I was two, worked from home, taught me at home until I was ten, and I helped feed the chickens, learned to milk the goats, built dens in the woods, when I wasn't doing my lessons.  All very house on the prairie.

An idyllic upbringing, which made me love real food, and craft building, and the great outdoors in general. For years The Self Sufficiency Bible was my main reading fodder, and it's a rhetoric so many of my friends buy into too. If we could just grow our own stuff and not need the shops, everything would be better.
But it's not as simple as you would think, this dream of ours. As Julian Baggini, author of The Virtues of the Table: How to Eat and Think, says: "It seems obvious that self sufficiency makes us more secure, less dependent on others and therefore more resilient. But this is wrong. What makes us stronger is not independence but interdependence". We are stronger when we make links, work together, trade. I always thought I would love to live the way I grew up - on a little plot of land, up in the hills, making everything myself. But it turns out I love the life I have now far more. In a small-ish rural town, with lovely shops, and cafes, and people to say hi to in the street, and no garden. A few pots to grow herbs in, and I'm happy. There's a great greengrocer in town.
Everything we do, be it buying the seeds to grow our veg, to felling the trees to build our houses - everything relies on others, is done better when it is done as a cooperative effort. Our so called self sufficient childhood was made of a million links and interdependencies, and was all the better for it. Growing your own is great, as long as we are aware that to even do so has required a global market. Those seeds have come from somewhere, the tools manufactured, how-to books printed, wellies made of Brazilian rubber. Even the most ardent of my crafty make-everything-myself friends buys their underwear from somewhere!
We live in a global world, and are all the better for it. It's just about how we do the communicating, the trading, that will make it a better place. In my opinion. Make those interactions personal wherever possible, cut out the middle man, make your choices conscious ones. Be self-insufficient, and proud :)

As a footnote - the author of that book is speaking at the How the Light gets in Festival at Hay next Tuesday! Afternoon tea and philosophy, what could be better?

https://howthelightgetsin.iai.tv

a mean clean scandi fish salad

So in the midst of yet another bout of family illness - it seems to come with having small children - day one of baby River in Nursery and she comes home with another chest infection, which everyone else then caught. Hers ended with a trip to hospital, but all is well again now., although it's now been a week since I slept for more than an hour... Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yes, in the midst of this I managed to try out this recipe, which I pinched off a friend a few weeks ago, from some magazine she had. The photo looked so beautiful (unlike my poor attempts below - after looking at these photos I've thrown out all our mismatched random crockery and we are now only having white plates!)

 I've adapted the original recipe slightly, but I'd recommend making this wholeheartedly. properly luscious flavours, clean and crisp and made us all feel healthier (though Simon's slightly depressed verdict "now I know why all Scandinavians are so thin" means I might add more bread for a main meal next time :)

Smoked trout, pickled radish, griddled cucumber and lemon salad, with sourdough croutons (serves three - if you're not ravenous - or four as a starter)

Break up a packet of smoked trout into chunky pieces and set aside. Cut half a cucumber in half again, then in eighths lengthways - so you end up with 16 chunky batons. Cut one lemon in half, slice around six radishes as thinly as possible and cut two slices of sourdough bread. Dissolve one teaspoon of sugar in one teaspoon of cider vinegar, then toss the sliced radishes in this pickle and leave while you prepare the rest. Heat a griddle pan, and brush the cucumbers, cut lemon sides and bread with olive oil. Chuck a pinch of sea salt on the hot griddle, then lay the cucumber, lemon and bread on it. Griddle for about eight minutes, turning the cucumbers and bread when they're brown and charred on one side. Meanwhile heap some green leaves on serving plates, then arrange the cucumbers, pickled radish slices and trout on top. Cut the bread into croutons and lay those on the salad. Squeeze the two charred lemon slices into a tablespoon of olive oil, and whisk with some chopped dill and sea salt. Drizzle this over the salad, and garnish with chive flowers (they were what I had to hand - more dill will do the trick too, or borage flowers look amazing) and dollops of natural yoghurt.

I served this with some beetroot and goats cheese, for the eagle eyed among you - it really didn't go with this salad, and makes the plates look awful, but I love roast beetroot and it needed using up :)

matilda's marvellous chickpea burgers

Matilda, who is six going on 26, likes to help me cook. I still haven't decided if its a bad thing or not, but she watches so many youtube videos, and american cookery shows with me, that she has to narrate all of our cooking with an american voice. It goes something like this: Mattie, do you want to help me make dinner? Yes mummy: "So hi guys, here we are in our kitchen, and mom is mixing the chickpeas with - oh hang on, now she's wiping the baby's nose - and I'm cracking this egg into a bowl..." you get the picture. All spoken to the wall behind the cooker. 

We made these chickpea burgers for our invisible non-existent audience the other night, before everyone got ill again - more on this in the next post.

Mash one tin of drained chickpeas and add to them one egg, two chopped spring onions, half a finely diced green pepper, a teaspoon of garam masala, a small tin of sweetcorn, and mix. You want it to be the consistency of mince - add chickpea flour (chana dal) until you reach this consistency. I find it needs about two tablespoons, but it depends on the size of your egg, and is different every time. Then season with salt and pepper.

Heat olive oil in a frying pan, and shaping the mix into small burgers - about a tablespoons worth each - fry your burgers over a medium heat until golden brown, turning to brown evenly.

Serve in pitta breads (we have those The Food Doctor multiseed ones) with a green salad and some hummus. They're a hit with even the fussiest of eaters in our house.

Just as a footnote - we don't eat like saints every night, in case I was giving that impression! Those blogs where all that you ever see is supermodel mums serving their angelic children homegrown spinach and himalayan sea salt crusted self-caught salmon cakes in ballgowns before they go out make me feel a little queasy. No supermodels here. Rather haggard sleep deprived ones instead, and today for lunch we had pizza and oven chips, and the baby was snacking on digestives (while sat on the floor of the kitchen rummaging through my handbag). y'know, jus' keeping it real.

cinderella complex

Its been a while since my last post. Not because I haven't had anything to say - far from it, my head is bursting with unfinished thoughts and ideas - more on that later - but because my days consist entirely of what has become known as my cinderella complex. Anyone who is trying to keep a small baby alive during the weaning process might know what I'm talking about here. Now that baby River is pretty much on solids, my life revolves entirely around her diet. I'm attempting to not rely on those very very tempting little pouches of food that look and taste a bit like how I imagine space food tastes - like it has the memory of a real, home cooked meal, but only its spirit remains. Don't get me wrong, I use them, and River gets positively excited when she sees one of those brightly coloured little pouches coming her way at lunchtime. But they're not what I want my daughter to think of as normal food. I cant help but think if all you eat is food out of a bag that has been heat treated to make sure its as inoffensive and safe as possible, you're going to want pretty bland stuff your whole life. Thats not something I want for my kids. I want them to have a passion for good, healthy, delicious food like I do. So.
My day goes something like this. Baby wakes up, I make her milk. I get the other kids up and washed and dressed. I make her breakfast (normally porridge or weetabix or toast - we have a bread machine which as a baker I never thought id say - but its amazing), then I make the kids breakfast, then bundle everyone off to school, hair just about brushed, clothes just about tidy. Then we get back and I tidy up from breakfast. then the baby has a snack, fruit or rice cakes or something. then I start her lunch - this is pretty much whatever im having, normally veggie soup or a sandwich or omelette. She eats that, covers the floor, herself, me... then she has milk and a sleep. And I clean up. And then she wakes up, we pick up her sister from school, I make them a snack and its time to start dinner, and the whole feed/clean cycle begins again. Trying to make a range of interesting foods, both in flavour and with different textures, some she can feed herself, others that are nice and filling, hitting all the major food groups every day, enough protein, vitamins, calcium, carbohydrates, not too reliant on sweetness, both challenging her taste buds and giving her the things I know she likes..
This only stops after she's gone to bed, so i get about an hour of not cooking/cleaning per day. Oh woe is me, I know. You can see why i get the cinderella thing... I'm not complaining (at least not right now). I love that I get to feed my beautiful kids good food, and have the priviledge right now to do that at home. How I will do all this while working I have no idea. But for now, there's been little time to do blogging, or thinking any coherent thoughts for that matter.
Anyway, I thought in the few spare minutes I have today, that I'd write a few of the things I make for her that she really loves. Both for my own posterity, but also because I remember the first time around, I was really worried about weaning, about what to feed my baby, and how much, and when. This second time around it's much less fraught, if still just as exhausting! I'm not a nutritional expert, i don't claim to know better, but if anyone at all reading this (hello, if you're out there??) wants any tips on weaning id be happy to help :)
I reckon weaning is less about recipes and more about a general way of thinking. The sooner a baby starts eating what the grown ups are eating, all together around the table, the better it is for everyone. As for baby led, it didn't really work for us. River is a big hungry baby, who wanted solids well before she could hold them herself. Even now, at ten months, she would much rather be fed than hold her own food.
After River had tried a few things on their own, like stewed apple, baby rice, pureed carrot etc.. I just started blitzing up whatever we were having for her - omitting salt and alcohol from the meals when i was making them of course. Some things taste better mushed together than others. I have to say one of my favourite foods in the world is mashed potato, peas and carrots with grated cheddar and butter. Add some tinned tuna and I'm in heaven :)
Family staples include: the pancakes I've mentioned before - river will eat these all day if she can.
Greek yoghurt with stewed fruit - a great breakfast/lunch. just stew some apples/pears/peaches with a pinch of cinnamon until soft, keep in the fridge for a day or two.
Minestrone - loads of veggies cooked in chicken stock, with mini soup pasta. don't bother paying the premium for 'baby pasta' - just get the Italian mini pasta shells from the pasta aisle. also good with rice or spelt or pearl barley. jus make sure its cooked long enough to be soft and mashable.
Chicken curry - use a mild curry powder, and natural yoghurt or double cream, and blend it with rice - it looks disgusting but she'll love it.
Matzo brei - these are those unleavened crackers you get from jewish delis. soak one in water or milk, then mush it in with whisked egg and treat in the same way as an omelette - filling and protein packed. add grated courgette or carrot and it looks really pretty and is full of vitamins too!
I add grated veg to everything - cakes, bread, omelettes, lasagne, salads. River loves grated carrot with lemon juice and sunflower seeds - really fun for a baby to try and pick up.
Writing this I'm realising you can pretty much give her anything - just blend it with a stick blender, adding a little water or milk if its dry. River has had stir fry, steak, cottage pie, lasagne, all just blended up for her. leave a few lumps in as they get older.
The most challenging aspect of feeding a weaning baby is when you're short on time. Its fine if you're home all day and don't mind doing nothing but cooking and cleaning. Freezing extra portions helps, but then you need to keep on top of what to use and when. Quick meals include scrambled eggs - you can chuck all sorts of finely chopped veg and cheese and tinned fish and herbs in. I have been known to throw tinned sardines into a lasagne and blitz it for her if she needs omega 3 that day. My six year old loved it!
Right, its lunchtime. better go blitz something. and add some sardines.