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“Guilty” fingers!

It’s a peculiar year for a walnut hunter.

Normally now, in mid-October, the ground would be thick with freshly released clean-looking nuts–asking to be collected. After rainfall is an especially good time–the raindrops knocking the nuts out of the tree.

It’s a pleasing pastime–with rich pickin’s!

Not this year.

There’s no lack of walnuts but they are falling late–often after the leaves, giving the trees a rather spooky look.

When they fall the nuts are staying untidily in their casings.

I come home from walnuting with tell-tale fingers–stained brown from trying to prise out the nuts.

A give-away–if I were doing something wrong.

This reminds me of  a mulberry tree in Delphi, Greece in 1961!

The summer of that year my school friend Chris Fordyce and I were hitching round Europe for nine weeks before going to university.

We’d been dropped on a corner just outside the then unspoilt town (the youth hostel was half built!)–under the shade of a mulberry tree laden with berries–ripe for the picking. We were hungry and given the setting–decided it was a gift from Apollo.

We reached up to feast on this glorious fruit but soon realised as the mulberry juice ran over our outstretched fingers and up our arms, staining them red, that if challenged by the owner of the tree we would find it impossible to deny the self-evident truth–that we’d been stealing his fruit.

Fast forward to the present and local wisdom has the lack of rain’s to blame for this unusual walnut year.

Not enough moisture rising in the tree to pop open the casing cleanly and push the nuts out for me to scoop up gratefully.

It’s taking the fun out of it.

None the less–I shouldn’t be complaining!

"It's that man again--collecting his nuts!"

The smoky paprika and saffron flavours in this dish, adapted from the marvellous Moro stable, are subtle and light, and make it hard not to finish the lot in one go–(which is what happened last night!).

for two

450 gms/1 lb monkfish–fresh as can be, skinned, cleaned, spine removed and the thin membrane too, as far as possible–cut into chunks

4 good prawns–unpeeled.

250 gms/8 oz mussels–cleaned

4 tablespoons olive oil

1 large sweet/mild onion–chopped

2 garlic cloves–chopped

1 tablespoon fresh rosemary–very finely chopped

1 lb /450 gms tomatoes–skinned and chopped or a 425 ml tin of tomatoes, drained and chopped

half a teaspoon smoked paprika [pimenton]

3 bay leaves

a good pinch of saffron threads–soaked in four tablespoons of hot water

150 ml/6 fl oz white wine

100 ml/4 fl oz stock–I used half an organic vegetable stock cube

4 oz/ 100 gms blanched almonds–blitzed into powder or use powdered almonds–to thicken the sauce

Salt and pepper

A shallow sauté pan you can present at table, would be best for this all-in-one dish.

  • Fry the onions in the oil until they are nicely coloured–it’s worth the time involved–about fifteen minutes–as this is the engine room of the dish.
  • Add the garlic, rosemary and bay leaves and cook for a further five minutes.
  • Mix in the tomatoes and the paprika and cook until the tomatoes have dissolved into a sauce–about ten more minutes.
  • Add the wine and give it a minute or two before stirring in the saffron water and the stock.
  • Bring it all up to a gentle simmer then stir in the powdered almonds.
  • Fold in the fish, the mussels and the prawns–[last night I used uncooked prawns; if you use cooked ones add them a couple of minutes later]
  • Cover the pan and cook a further 5-10 minutes turning everything over in the sauce from time to time. Make sure the mussels open up.

We ate it spooned over some basmati brown rice and the word moderation wasn’t mentioned..!

… lifting the spirits.

The last few days have been unbelievably beautiful — warm, with soft golden light, and the leaves which have just begun to color slowly drifting to the ground. More of the same is predicted for tomorrow and the next day. Not really soup weather at all. However, cold and rainy weather is out there somewhere in our not too distant future and I look forward to making this again.


Exactly how I’m feeling–I found this quote by chance on a lovely looking site called Kitchenography– Life in my Kitchen.

SERENDIPITY! 

Soup is what I’m feeling like tonight.

The days are summer days–the evenings and nights are autumn.

So that’s why I have a yen for soup–I understand–often you have to put it into words and then it becomes clear.

I’d bought some leeks and fennel and I’m starting with an onion.

for 2

1 medium onion–peeled and chopped

1lb/450 gms leeks–cleaned and chopped

1 medium fennel bulb–cleaned and chopped

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 pint/525 ml vegetable stock–I use an organic stock cube

  • Sweat the onion for a couple of minutes.
  • Add the leeks and fennel and sweat all three for ten minutes, covered, until they soften.
  • Season well with pepper and a little salt.
  • Add a pint of vegetable stock.
  • Simmer gently for twenty minutes.
  • Liquidise the soup and check the seasoning.
  • If you feel the soup is to thick add a little extra water.
  • Serve hot.

I topped it tonight with sautéed onion:

1 tablespoon olive oil

Half a medium onion–peeled and sliced thin

  • Sauté the onion in the oil until it is nicely browned.
  • Twirl a little on each bowlful of soup.

I put a sweet potato in the oven and we  had a half each after the soup with some new season broccoli.

[Which makes it a five vegetable meal to boot!!]

POP!–POP!–POP!

This rabbit's a hare!

I’m reminded of the song*–[see the title above]–as I swerve and slow down on my way to the market in Realmont, avoiding baby rabbits and several pheasants who are risking their lives coming out on a Wednesday here–of course they don’t know that.

The countryside seems alive with game.

Last week four or five leaping deer–little ones–arched across a field to the safety of  a thicket–I’d never seen that here before.

It’s the hunting season again.

Each Sunday and Wednesday the shots ring out–sometimes so close they make me jump.

Two at a time in quick succession from the double barrelled shotguns favoured by the hunters.

“Run rabbit run rabbit run! run! run!”–though it’d be better to hunker down in the burrow, they don’t know any better.

I’ve never seen a hunter with treasure in his pouch, though.

Is it the “thrill of the chase” that keeps them coming out or simply a walk across the fields with their dogs, in the early autumn sunshine?

Perhaps the truth is they’re hunting for a connection with a disappearing past.

Twenty odd years ago, when we were London townies down for the weekend, we’d be woken on Sunday morning by a barrage of gunfire and the barking of gun dogs.

The noise is much diminished these days–and “walnutting” [ my version of “La chasse”!] not such a dangerous Sunday morning sport.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Goes the farmer’s gun.

Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run.

* The song[1939] is sung by Bud Flanagan and Chesney Allen–two Music Hall stars who teamed up between the wars, and were also members of The Crazy Gang .

In today’s GUARDIAN– 

–writer Jon Henley interviews Barbara Young–Chief Executive of Diabetes UK, the country’s leading diabetes charity. It’s a sobering piece.

In the article Baroness Young is quoted as saying:

“Diabetes is becoming a crisis. The crisis. It’s big, it’s scary, it’s growing and it’s very, very expensive. It’s clearly an epidemic, and it could bring the health service to its knees. Something really does need to happen.”

She backs up that statement with some astonishing figures:

  • The condition is now nearly four times as common as all forms of cancer combined.
  • 2.8m people in the UK have been diagnosed with it.
  • An estimated 850,000 more probably have type 2 diabetes but don’t yet know.
  • By the year 2025, more than 5m people in this country will have diabetes.
  • In north America, one in five men over 50 have the condition.

At the end of the interview there are three case histories. Here’s an edited version of 38 year old Peter Clitheroe’s  inspiring story—

“I’m 6ft 2in and by the time I’d left uni in 1997 I was affectionately known as Big Pete – I weighed 23st 10lbs. I tried to lose weight, tried everything, and nothing worked. The only thing I didn’t try was sorting my head out.”

For several years Clitheroe’s weight fluctuated wildly; 18st when he got married in 2003, back up to 23st by the time his son was born four years later.

In November 2008 he went to the doctor with eye problems; a blood sugar test showed 14.7.Clitheroe joined WeightWatchers, stuck at it for a year, and wound up at 15st 2lb. “I’m in control now,” he says. He cycles 16 miles to work and back four days a week; Last year he did the Manchester 10km run, raising £700 for diabetes research.

“My blood sugar is down at 6.2, and my cholesterol has fallen from 7.8 to 3.4,” he says. “In fact, if I hadn’t already been diagnosed I wouldn’t actually have diabetes now.”

Perversely, Peter says, being diagnosed was “about the best thing that could have happened to me. It got me back on track; gave me a second chance.” [my italics]

He still loves his food: “I’d love to go to some TV chef and say: ‘Make something that really tastes good, but is genuinely low-fat.’ And how come the low-fat dishes in the supermarket are always more expensive than the others? But it’s your head you have to get sorted out.” [my italics]

“Just when you thought you’d had enough green beans for a while…” Meredith sighed at lunchtime, as she bit into a piece of this green and yellow discus–a frittata with green beans.

Discus-like thing

Frittata is an Italian omelette–made the opposite way to a French omelette.

I’ve been guided in their making by the incomparable Marcella Hazan–the queen of Italian home cooking.

The “trick” is in the time it takes.

It’s cooked over the lowest heat, for about 15 minutes–a French omelette over the highest heat, for probably less than a minute!

The French version is fluffy–the Italian firm, but not dry; more like a pastry-less quiche–served in slices.

What they have in common, apart from eggs, is that you can fill them–frittatas or omelettes–with pretty much what you fancy.

In this version, green beans and onion:

1 onion–peeled and chopped

2 tablespoons olive oil

8 oz/250 gms green beans–cooked to tender, drained, and plunged into a bowl of cold water, then patted dry and cut into short lengths, ready to go into the frittatta mix

2 0z/50 gms parmesan cheese–grated

6 eggs

salt and pepper

a thumb-size knob of butter and a little more olive oil

  • Sauté the onion in the olive oil until it colours nicely–set aside to cool.
  • Break the eggs into a bowl and whisk them lightly to combine the yolk and the white.
  • Whisk in the grated cheese.
  • Season with salt and pepper.
  • Add the beans and the onions to the bowl and mix them in.
  • Heat the butter and the extra oil in a medium sauté pan [10 inch/26 cm] to hot.
  • Fold in the egg mixture and turn the heat down to the lowest available–even use a heat diffuser too if you have one [the object being to keep the frittata moist through slow cooking].
  • Cook for about fifteen minutes until there is just a little lake of liquid left on top.
  • Heat the grill to hot and place the pan under it for a couple of minutes, just to firm it up.

“Great finish to the bean season,” acknowledged Meredith, after helping herself to a second slice….

Allez les Bleus!

The Rugby World Cup 2011 in New Zealand.

The man behind me at the checkout in Monoprix early this morning said to the cashier in almost a whisper: “L’Irlande a perdu–Le Pays de Galle a gagné, you heard?”  [Ireland lost, Wales won!]. The cashier gave a Gallic shrug.

(Everyone else this morning–those who were in the open air market that is–a much diminished crowd compared with a normal Saturday–was on tenderhooks.)

“France and England next,” he said, hardly daring to mention the game that was starting in half an hour in Auckland.

The anticipation of this quarter final between the old rivals (enemies!) has been intense; the view pretty pessimistic for the chances of the French team–who have been underperforming for most of the competition. They lost to Tonga, for heavens sake, last Saturday–an unprecedented national humiliation!

Le Roogby” is an obsession here in southwestern France.

Back in 1998, after watching France beat Brazil in the soccer World Cup on a giant screen at the café in Place Jean Jaurés in Castres, we went round the corner for coffee in a nearby bar.

We enthusiastically congratulated the proprietor on the magnificent achievement of being champions of the soccer world.

Oh, c’est pas grand chose,” he said, amazingly unimpressed. [No big deal!]

” Le vrai Coupe du Monde se passe l’an prochain–celle du Roogby!” [The REAL World Championship happens NEXT year–at rugby!]

I played soccer as a kid and have never got to grips with the arcane rules of “rugger”.

A big game though, like this morning’s, can be thrilling.

I settled down with a breakfast bowl of oats, walnuts and yogurt to watch.

I soon wished I’d stayed in the market–the French were playing out of their skins and the excitement in the square would have been palpable.

The unexpected was happening–the national team that had disappointed up to now looked like they were going to win–and not just win –but whip L’Angleterre, the old rival.

Whip them they did–despite an England rally in the second half.

The man in Monoprix may not be whispering now and next week for the semi-final I shall be in Place Jean Jaurés joining in the general cry–Allez les bleus!”

Steve Jobs, co-founder of Apple has died, aged 56. In an early interview with Playboy magazine he is quoted as saying:

We just wanted to build the best thing we could build.

When you’re a carpenter making a beautiful chest of drawers, you’re not going to use a piece of plywood on the back, even though it faces the wall and nobody will ever see it. You’ll know it’s there, so you’re going to use a beautiful piece of wood on the back. For you to sleep well at night, the aesthetic, the quality, has to be carried all the way through.” (my italics)

This put me in mind of John Bloomfield, the costume designer on the first series of Poldark.

I remember once seeing John sitting on a dry stone wall in Cornwall while we were filming, sewing a button onto a part of a costume that would never be caught on camera, but was an authentic period detail.

It didn’t matter to him that it probably would never be seen, but he knew he wouldn’t sleep well that night if his costume had been incomplete!

We had worked together “B.P.” (Before Poldark!) on an adaptation of Guy de Maupassant’s social satire, Bel Ami.

He made me 17 stunning suits for the five-part serialisation, all of which he would sketch out beforehand in an original way.

John's pasted paper sketch for a George Duroy suit

With pieces of coloured paper–cutting like a tailor–he would build a patchwork portrait of the outfit.

Attention to detail from the start!

Rest In Peace– Steve Jobs.

We are having this tonight with our friends Andrew and Peggotty who are here for a few days rest and recuperation!

Meredith says it’s not really from the Mediterranean region so what’s it doing in the cookbook?!

She’s right–it’s more Cajun than Med. I think–but it’s healthy and tastes good, so…!

It’s also a good dish for company–easily adapted to feed more than four.

Allow 200 g/7 oz of salmon fillet per person.

Serves 4

800 g/28 oz salmon fillet–skin and small bones removed

2 tablespoons olive oil

more olive oil for sautéing

For the Orange Yogurt Sauce 

4 tbsp/80 ml/3 fl oz olive oil

400 ml/14 fl oz/1½ cups yogurt of choice – whisked smooth (I use no-fat)

zest and juice of 1 large juicy orange 

For the Herb and Spice Mix 

3 teaspoons each–dried thyme, dried rosemary, dried oregano 

3 teaspoons dry roasted cumin seeds – roughly ground

1½ teaspoons each Spanish sweet smoked paprika, cayenne pepper 

3 cloves of garlic–pulped in a mortar with a pinch of salt

3 teaspoon salt

  • Make the sauce by whisking the olive oil into the yogurt, followed by the zest and juice of the orange. Set it aside.
  • Put all the herbs and spices in a bowl and mix them
  • thoroughly.
  •  Run your fingers over the top of the fillets to check that all
  • the small bones have been removed.
  • Cut up the salmon into squares roughly 3 cm/11/2 inch in size – they need to be cooked quite quickly so mustn’t be too large.
  • Put them in a bowl and add the olive oil. Turn the salmon carefully until it is well covered.
  • Tip the salmon into the bowl with the herb and spice mix.
  • Again turn the salmon carefully until all the pieces are well covered in the mix.
  • Pour a couple of tablespoons of oil into a large frying pan.
  • When hot transfer the “blackened” salmon to the pan and fry for 4–5 minutes.
  • Check for doneness, try not to overcook; it’s better that some pieces are slightly underdone – they
  • continue to cook a bit off the heat.
  • Serve over a steaming dish of brown basmati rice.
  • Don’t forget the sauce!