I’m very chuffed to have received a 2014 Irish Blog Award in the Green/Eco Blog category. Yay! It’s always nice to be appreciated. The competition was fierce which makes me even more honoured. Check out the other worthy finalists here and you’ll see what I mean.
We planted a plum tree about 8 years ago. Each summer he delivers a meagre handful of fruit which usually becomes wasp fodder. I don’t think we had ever actually had the chance to eat one. It’s not a particularly attractive specimen and earlier in the spring I questioned the viability of keeping it. Aloud in a tut-tut tone. Within earshot of the under-productive tree.
Well, it seems our tree has taken my criticism on board. Feeling the pressure to perform, he has gone all out this year to prove his worth. His branches, dipping to the ground, were full with fruit like we had never seen before. I gave lots away, ate even more and still had some left to make plum sauce.
We don’t eat a ton of chutney so I thought this chilli- plum combination would have more uses in the kitchen. And so it does. Sweet with a spicy kick it’s great with cheese. It also works well in stir fries and sweet and sour dishes. The flavour matures with time so It should taste even zingier after a few weeks.
Plum chilli sauce
1k plums destoned
3 whole red chillis
1 large red onion
2 garlic cloves
Small nub of fresh ginger – approx 5g
250ml vinegar (apple cider or balsamic- I used a mixture)
1 tblsp Tamari sauce (soya sauce will do fine)
1 tblsp sherry
Half teasp cinnamon
Half teasp salt
450g sugar (150g of which was brown sugar)
Finely chop the chillis, onion, garlic and ginger. Add to a pot with the de-stoned plums and cook for about 20 minutes. Add all the other ingredients. Stir well and bring to a rolling boil for another 20 mins approx. I prefer it to be of pouring consistency and not as thick set as jam. You may prefer a thicker, more chutney vibe in which case it may need more boiling. When you feel you have reached your ideal thickness (do the cold saucer test) then pour into sterilised jars and lid them when still warm.
So, thanks plum tree for the surprise bumper harvest. From here on in I promise, no more talk of relocation!
My small nieces love to play tag with the dog. The dog loves to be chased by two squealing six-year olds. It’s a happy relay that provides both parties with much entertainment. This morning, after several laps of the garden, all three arrived into the kitchen with food on their minds having run up a hefty appetite. Since their mum is steering clear of gluten, pancakes were the easiest and quickest way to whip up a snack for the whole family. Plus they would be great partnered with the berries I had picked earlier. I prefer to make American style pancakes – not the more traditional crepes that we used to eat as children. Today I used gluten-free flour but when little folk with suspicious taste buds aren’t about I use buckwheat flour. Buckwheat is an acquired taste, much in the way of Guinness or anchovies- either loved or hated. We belong in the first camp. As soon as the the girls had refueled on nutella and jam-smeared pancakes it was back to the garden. Meanwhile, the adults enjoyed theirs with freshly picked blackberries and honey. Delicious. My sister asked me for the recipe so here it is.
- 1 cup of gluten-free flour (or buckwheat of you are a lover)
- 1 teasp baking powder (check to make sure it’s gluten free- most are)
- 1 teasp cinnamon
- 1 teasp sugar (or apple concentrate/rice syrup)
- half cup water
- half cup of milk (soya or almond can also be used. I used kefir milk)
- 1 egg
- 2 tbsp oil (olive or sunflower)
- half teasp vanilla extract
First combine all the ingredients in the order they are listed. Mix well. You can leave to sit for half an hour but really it doesn’t appear to make much difference if you make your pancakes straight away. Pour a third of a cup of the mixture on an oiled, heated pan. Cook on a medium heat for about 3-4 minutes a side. Continue until mixture is gone and devour warm with chopped fruit, maple syrup, nutella ……. or whatever takes your fancy! They are just perfect for foraged hedgerow blackberries that are now coming into their prime.
Apparently today is Yorkshire Day which is fortuitous as that’s exactly where I am. Sitting at the cafe in the Yorkshire Sculpture Park gazing out onto the Peak District with a brass band thumping out jolly tunes behind me. I’m sipping a well earned cuppa after a few hours meandering through curvatous Henry Moores, a stately Anthony Gormley and several totem-pole inspired Barbara Hepworths. Hepworth was born locally and is in so many ways the star of the show. I imagine her life and work initiated the idea of a park.
The park, known as YSP, won the Art Fund Prize for Museum of the Year 2014. It’s easy to see why. Located in the 500-acre Bretton Estate it houses over 60 sculptures throughout its grounds where sheep and geese are free to roam.
Many of the pieces are huge installations that nestle at ease in their wide, open-air positions. There are also several indoor galleries exhibiting art which has a connection to the natural world. Even though the Yorkshire populace have come here to celebrate their special day I still managed a secluded woodland walk by the lake before rejoining the crowds back at the YSP centre. Now that I’ve have my caffeine fix I’m off to find the work of Chinese sculptor Ai Weiwei on exhibition in the chapel. Spoilt for choice, the variety has given me food for thought on how to work with my substantially smaller patch of green at home. Hmmmm…..
So many people have no time for gooseberries. They remind me of carefree times. Of summers, off-school and earning a few bob with pals at the local fruit farm. We spent many hours huddled around gooseberry, blackcurrant and strawberry plants, giggling and gossiping, pegging fruit at the boys on the next row. We came away with scratched arms, berry-stained clothes and not a whole lot of pocket money. It was fun.
Is it the battling with treacherous thorny branches to retrieve the berries that puts folk off? It could it be the bristly texture of the fruit but I suspect it’s the lip-puckering sourness that people most object to. Gooseberries need a lot of sugar to make them palatable which makes them just perfect for jam making.
A few weeks ago I was lucky enough to receive a bowl of gooseberries. Some of them were used for a crumble and the rest were popped in the freezer for a later date. When my tiny, single, solitary blackcurrant bush started to produce ripe fruit I immediately thought of my frozen loot. I’d come across the gooseberry / bay leaf combination before and was keen to give it a go. As well as adding an interesting flavour bay leaves can help in the relief of respiratory infections, joint pain and indigestion. The berrries were topped and tailed- another lovely childhood memory evoked of around the kitchen table with my mum- washed and placed in a saucepan. To make the jam I brought all the above ingredients to a rolling boil stirring occasionally for about 20 minutes. It’s always best to do a “is-it-set-yet” test. Letting it cool down to a handling temperature I then poured the jam into sterilised jars and screwed the lids on while still warm. I look forward to cracking open a jar and being transported back to the carefree summer days of my misspent youth!
My husband has had this jumper for eons. No, he is not a former ski instructor, ex raindeer-herder or one-time arctic fisherman. I like to think it is his keen sense of irony and appreciation for Nordic design that led him to this particular winter warmer. Or perhaps just the recklessness of youth…..Anyhoo, it was recently re-discovered at the bottom of a wardrobe whiffing faintly of moth balls but looking as good as new. It no longer fitted Z ‘s waistline or fashion sensibility and needed to find a new home. Because of it’s fine pedigree- pure Scandinavian wool if you don’t mind- I decided to give it to my sister who has a penchant for all things woolly. I thought she might unravel it it and re-knit it into something useful for my nieces. She’s good like that. Turns out she had an altogether craftier scheme up her sleeve.
A delightfully squishy birthday parcel arrived for me last week. Imagine my delight to find Z’s swanky sweater reincarnated as an amazing felted bag. I love it- thanks sis. Such clever and creative re-purposing- but that’s my sis. Did I mention that she’s good like that?
The jumper was felted in a warm machine wash followed by a stint in the dryer. It can be a bit of a trial and error technique but usually reliable with 100% pure wool. After felting it was cut up and sewn together. Have you got a felting project you’d like to share?
*For non-Irish readers this is a nod to brilliant song by 90’s Cork Band The Sultans of Ping
For a long time I’d been itching to try my hand at making sauerkraut. The commercial stuff on the supermarket shelves tastes fine but to obtain maximum health-giving probiotics, vitamins and minerals it should be fresh and unpasturised. After scrutinizing many a Youtube tutorial and reading lots on the art of fermenting vegetables I still had niggling doubts about my success rate without the proper equipment. So when we discovered an unusual-shaped jar during the big move it all started to look more feasible.
The lovely grey earthenware crock had originally been used by my Mutter-in-law’s family to preserve autumn fruit in rum to produce a potent, winter-warming tipple. Ingeniously, the lid houses an airlock “moat” that when filled with water allows air to be slowly released from the jar but at the same time preventing any air from entering it. I’d been scouring shops and markets for a saurkraut crock for years. Of course you can buy them online but delivery is precarious not to mention expensive. For me this was a gem of a find and I had every intention of giving my newly acquired friend a new lease of life.
- Having sat unused for several decades in a dark corner our jar warranted a good scrub. Good hygiene practice is paramount anyhow to ensure that only the good bacterias are allowed to prosper.
- Three robust heads of cabbage were retrieved from the veg patch, finely shredded and packed tightly into the jar. No need to wash the cabbage as this is where our good bacteria will come from.
- I vigorously pounded a layer of cabbage with the end of a wooden rolling pin, added a copious sprinkling of sea salt, followed by a spattering of dried juniper berries and continued with these three steps until the jar was almost full.
- To apply more pressure to the compacted leaves I filled a food-grade plastic bag with water and pastry weights and placed it on top of the final layer. The moat surrounding the opening of the jar was filled with water. On went the ceramic lid. The whole lot was left sitting in corner of the kitchen for a week or so until there was enough liquid extracted from the cabbage to cover the leaves entirely.
- At this stage I removed the bag altogether and replaced the lid. We kept an eye on the water level in the lid making sure it was not allowed to evaporate completely. It gurgled and popped sporadically as air was released – perfectly natural.
- Six weeks later, after a taste test confirmed it was time, we decanted the cabbage into sterilised jars. I filled four large screw-top glass jars, placing cling film between the metal lid and the jar to prevent and any corrosion from the lactic acid produced during fermentation. They were stored in the fridge. Though not for long as we are already down to our last jar.
The taste is sublime. Slight crunch still in the leaves with a beautiful sour taste, unlike anything I’ve previously tasted. Without a doubt it is worth the effort. Now, I’m off to plant some cabbage seeds for next years batch!