appledrane

Slow cooked shepherd's pie

2012-03-14T10:25:00.000-07:00

Recipe and food styling: Jassy Davis
Find the recipe >>> Here <<<

Thai carrot slaw

2012-03-10T10:55:00.000-08:00

Shot for BBC Good Food magazine, April '12 issue

Recipe: Ally Bright

Food styling: Rosie Reynolds

Sausage and fennel casserole

2012-03-05T07:53:00.000-08:00

The joy of a good snorker casserole. As chance would have it I've still got a few wild fennel seed heads tumbleweeding around the kitchen; the perfect addition to this Spanish-style one pot...

12 Good quality pork sausages
3 Rashers smoked streaky bacon, chopped
A splash of cider
4 garlic bulbs, sliced
2Tsp Wild fennel seeds
1 Red Chilli, finely chopped
1Tsp Fresh thyme leaves
2 Red onions, chopped into wedges
1 Bulb fennel, sliced lengthways into wedges
2 Tins chopped tomatoes
1 Tin Borlotti beans
1 Tin black eyed peas
200ml Chicken stock
3Tsp Smoked paprika
Salt and pepper
Jacket potatoes and parsley, to serve

1 Fry the sausages until they’ve gained a bit of golden colour, then put to one side (it doesn’t matter if they’re not cooked all the way through).
2 fry the bacon in a shallow pan until crispy. Remove the bacon before de-glazing the pan with a splash of cider. Add the garlic, fennel seeds, chilli and thyme and stir on a low heat for about five minutes. Add the remaining ingredients (including the sausages and bacon) and keep on a medium simmer for a good 35-45 minutes. Serve with crispy jacket potatoes and a sprinkle of fresh parsley.

Appledrane featured in Fabulous Food magazine

2012-03-05T06:42:00.000-08:00

There is a two page feature on Appledrane in the Spring issue of Fabulous Food magazine; opening their new "Bloggers' bites" series. Very excited and flattered to have been asked; they've run my Scallops with wild leek, pepper and black mustard leaf dressing recipe from last summer. Here it is!

Clementines

2012-02-28T08:11:00.001-08:00

Spring nettles

2012-02-25T12:19:00.000-08:00

Goats' Cheese, Onion and Potato Bread with Thyme

2012-02-21T04:13:00.000-08:00

Recipe >>> Here <<<
Recipe: Delia Smith
Food styling: Selma Jeevanjee

The youngling negotiates a winter ice cream in Bosham

2012-02-21T01:27:00.001-08:00

Baked custard & raspberry pots

2012-02-20T06:10:00.000-08:00

Shot for Leith's School of Food & Wine
Food styling: Andrea Ayre

Gypsy tarts

2012-02-13T02:49:00.000-08:00

This is one of my Dad's favourite desserts - an old Kentish classic. It's very sweet; the sharpness of a few fresh rasberries scattered on top and/or a few splinters of bitter dark chocolate offsets the sweetness nicely. Traditionally short crust pastry is used, but I used brik in this instance for a bit of brittle, papery crunch.

MAKES 6

Brik or filo pastry

1 400ml tin of evaporated milk

300g Dark muscovado sugar

Melted dark chocolate and/or raspberries, to serve.

1 Heat oven to 200C/180C fan/gas 6. Whisk the evaporated milk and sugar together for about 10 minutes until thick and creamy.

2 Use a saucer to cut out 6 circles of pastry, then line 6 brioches tins. Carefully spoon the mixture into the tins; the pastry probably won’t sit snuggly in the tins beforehand, but the weight of the mixture will help hold it down and push the pastry into the brioche tin grooves.

3 Bake for 10 minutes, checking regularly in case the edges of the pastry burn. Serves with fresh raspberries and splinters of dark chocolate.

Curried squash, lentil and coconut soup

2012-02-07T03:37:00.000-08:00

Shot for BBC Good Food Magazine, April '12 issue
Recipe: Barney Desmazery
Prop styling: Jenny Iggleden
Food styling: Lizzie Harris

Recipe >>> Here <<<

Hot porridge with warm rhubarb compote and toasted almonds

2012-02-05T05:14:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure if you've heard, but it snowed last night. This seems to have fallen under the radar on many social networking sites, so I do hope that you'll thank me for the heads up. What better way to prepare for a log gathering session than a piping hot bowl of porridge for breakfast?

Simply soften a 2 chopped sticks of rhubarb in a pan with a good squeeze of honey, one tablespoon of sugar and a small splash of water (so that the rhubarb doesn't catch). Don't let it break down too much - you want a bit of rhubarb shape left. Spoon over a bowl of hot porridge with an extra drizzle of honey and toasted almonds - a dusting of ground cinnamon works a treat too. Serves 2.

Purple sprouting brocolli

2012-02-04T00:13:00.000-08:00

Sea bass and seafood Italian one-pot

2012-02-03T02:54:00.000-08:00

Shot for BBC Good Food Magazine, April '12 issue
Recipe: Barney Desmazery
Prop styling: Jenny Iggleden
Food styling: Lizzie Harris

Recipe >>> Here <<<

Bulb fennel

2012-01-28T08:57:00.000-08:00

Ghillie before the hunt

2012-01-28T07:25:00.000-08:00

Secret garden

2012-01-26T01:10:00.001-08:00

Griddled lamb cutlets with cannellini beans and baby leeks

2012-01-24T11:36:00.000-08:00

It seems like a perpetual sneer of drizzle has trained itself against the kitchen window this morning. It paused briefly at about eleven, but resumed its sulk hastily when I dared step into the garden. The parsley is nonplussed; in fact it seems to be flourishing in this mild, wet weather. I use this yoghurty marinade for Lamb all year round - on the barbeque is best, but until that time arrives the griddle pan is a sturdy and reliable friend.

12 Lamb cutlets, French trimmed
8 Baby leeks
400g Tinned cannellini beans, drained
A few sprigs of fresh thyme
1 Red onion, finely chopped
1 Red chilli, finely chopped
1 Garlic clove, finely sliced
Butter
Fresh parsley, to serve

FOR THE MARINADE
A small 170g tub of natural yoghurt
A small handful of chopped fresh mint
4 Large garlic cloves, finely grated
2Tbsp Olive oil
Salt and pepper

1 The night before, mix the marinade ingredients together in a shallow dish, then coat the cutlets in the mixture. Cover with clingfilm and pop in the fridge.
2 Melt a knob of butter in a saute pan on a low heat, then soften the onion, chilli, thyme and garlic for about 20 minutes. Add the leeks and keep everything on low for a further 15 minutes, stirring regularly.
3 Heat a griddle pan until scorching hot (brush with oil). Remove the cutlets from the marinade (spoon off any large blobs of yoghurty mixture), then sear for 5 minutes on each side. Remove from the heat and leave to rest.
4 Stir the cannellini beans into the softening vegetables, season well and leave on the heat for a final 5 minutes. Add an extra knob of butter just before serving, for a bit of gloss and extra butteryness. Serve the cutlets and veg with a scattering of fresh parsley.

Moules eclade

2012-01-15T05:34:00.001-08:00

A bitterly cold January night left a dusting of frost across the garden this morning; the darker corners clinging on icily as I arranged the mussels on the board. Wonderful, resinous smoke plumes through the shellfish as the pine needles burn - I can honestly say that this has become my favourite way of cooking mussels.

Fresh mussels
A large bag of pine needles (they need to be tinder-dry, otherwise they won't light)

1 Balance four mussels hinge side up in a cross shape in the centre of an old wooden board or large flat stone (a piece of bread in the centre is handy if they keep falling over. Build up a concentric circle of mussels around the cross, making sure that they're all hinge side up.
2 Add a three inch layer of pine needles on top of the mussels. Light the needles; once they have all burnt away, blow away the ash and eat the mussels. Great with crusty bread - oh, best not to eat any mussels that haven't opened...

French onion soup

2012-01-08T08:49:00.001-08:00

Why has it been so long since I've made this oniony wonder? The inclination to throw everything into the soup pot at this time of year is a strong one; especially when there's a wealth of wintry root veg in season. Lest we forget that often, simplicity is best.

A small knob of butter
5 Large brown onions, thinly sliced
2 Bay leaves
A few sprigs of fresh thyme
2 Garlic cloves, finely chopped
A splash of dry sherry
500ml Beef or vegetable stock
2Tsp mustard powder
Salt and pepper
1 ciabatta loaf, sliced
Finely grated gruyere cheese

1 Melt the butter in a pan, before adding the thyme, garlic and bay. Stir gently for a few minutes, then add the onions. Soften gently on a medium heat for about 10 minutes.
2 Stir the mustard powder into the onions, add the sherry and then pour in the stock (I used vegetable stock in this instance - prefer beef though). Simmer on a relatively fast bubble for about 20 minutes.
3 Toast the ciabatta slices, then top with grated Gruyere. When ready to serve, spoon a portion of soup into a bowl, float a ciabatta on top and then grate in a bit more cheese for good measure. Pop under the grill for a few minutes, then serve.

Kale

2012-01-06T01:44:00.001-08:00

Shot for BBC Good Food Magazine, Feb '12 issue

Prop styling: Jo Harris

Scatter

2012-01-05T05:51:00.000-08:00

Lemons

2012-01-03T05:56:00.000-08:00

Shot for BBC Good Food Magazine, February '12 issue

Recipes & food styling: Jo Pratt

Prop styling: Jo Harris

Plum cobbler

2011-12-31T09:05:00.000-08:00

I've been raiding the Christmas nut bowl again, like some kind of new year squirrel. The fridge rattles with "Class of Xmas '11" alumni - sprouts, cranberries, parsnips; the challenge is using them up and not letting anything go to waste. This cobbler went down a treat as part of our New Year's Eve supper; a few chopped dried figs would be great stirred into the fruit if you have any knocking around. Happy New Year you lot!

200g Self raising flour
150g Golden caster sugar
75g Unsalted butter
125ml Whole milk
About a dozen plums, cut in half and stoned
The zest of half a clementine
A good squeeze of honey
1/2Tsp Ground cinnamon
A handful of roughly chopped mixed nuts (I used brazil, hazel, almond and walnuts)

1 Heat the oven to 190C/fan 170C/gas 5. Tip the plums into an ovenproof dish, then cover with with the honey, zest, cinnamon and 50g sugar. Give it all a quick stir, then pop in the oven.
2 In a large bowl, mix together the flour and the remaining 100g of the sugar. Grate in the butter, then use your fingertips to gently rub everything together into a fine, breadcrumb-like mix. Stir in the milk to form a thick, doughy batter.
3 Take the fruit out of the oven. Spoon large blobs of the cobbler mix on top, scatter with nuts and bake for 30-40 minutes (or until browned and a skewer comes out of the topping clean).

Peck

2011-12-28T04:44:00.000-08:00

Paperflower

2011-12-27T12:38:00.000-08:00

Jewelled dukkah crusted lamb shoulder

2011-12-18T09:37:00.000-08:00

The ‘Danny Glover Quote Lexicon’ is far from being a tome, “I’m getting to old for this shit” being the only Glovernugget that I ever regularly paraphrase. “I just wanna fix mah boat and put mah kids through school Riggs” (something like that) doesn’t really bristle with many social applications. I’m embarrassed to say that three consecutive nights of festive revelry last week has left me gaunt, dishevelled and malnourished, like a poor Dickensian street urchin. This was compounded on Friday morning when we ran out of milk and honey for porridge, and I was forced to contemplate a bowl of thin oatmeal gruel for breakfast. It is my hope that this hearty roast went a little way towards righting the balance.

I first tried dukkah a couple of years ago. In that instance it played part of a Maria Elia recipe; juicy watermelon wedges plunged into a bowl of dukkah as a canape - very much a ‘YES’ moment. Traditionally hazelnuts are used in this Egyptian dip, but this morning I raided the Christmas nut bowl in a gesture of ‘Renegade spice assemblage’.

For a small jar of dukkah

2Tbsp Sesame seeds

2Tbsp Chopped mixed nuts (I used a blend of hazel, almond, walnut & brazil nuts)

1Tbsp Cumin seeds

1Tbsp Coriander seeds

1Tsp black peppercorns

1Tsp Sea salt

1/2Tsp Ground cinnamon

1/2Tsp dried mint

Toast the sesame seeds, nuts, cumin seeds and coriander seeds in heavy pan until they’ve toasted lightly. Allow to cool, then tip into a coffee grinder with the peppercorns, salt, cinnamon and mint. Blitz until fine.

Jewelled dukkah crusted lamb shoulder

(I used) 0.75kg Rolled lamb shoulder (cooking times will vary depending on the size of your meat)

2Tbsp Olive oil

6Tbsp Dukkah

1 Pomegranate

Heat the oven to 180C/fan 160C/gas 4. Rub the lamb with olive oil, then place in an ovenproof dish. Gently sprinkle the dukkah over the meat (you may have to fill in gaps here and there with your fingers), then roast for just under an hour until the lamb is blushing. To serve, scatter pomegranate seeds over the meat (a good squeeze of juice over the top is a good thing too).

Haw

2011-12-16T05:03:00.000-08:00

Gluten-free stollen

2011-12-16T01:44:00.000-08:00

Shot for BBC Good Food magazine, December '11 issue

Recipe: Hannah Miles

Prop styling: Tony Hutchinson

Food Styling: Cassie Best

Rabbit, mushroom and ramson bulb pate

2011-12-12T03:00:00.000-08:00

The Ramsons are so abundant along this riverbank during the spring; digging up a small handful of bulbs in the winter months won’t upset the balance in the slightest. A summer spent swelling gently in the soil leaves them plump and juicy - that garlic flavour is distinct as ever. If you'd prefer your pate to be really gamey just use rabbit; I like to tone down the strong flavour a touch though, so go 50/50 with chicken livers.

200g Rabbit livers

200g Chicken livers

100g Chestnut mushrooms, roughly torn

100g butter

3 bacon rashers, chopped

4 Large ramson bulbs

Fresh thyme leaves

Bay leaves

A splash of sherry

Salt and pepper

Fry the bacon in an oiled pan until crispy, then add the mushrooms to soften. Stir in the livers, brown for a few minutes (try not to cook them all the way through) then add the thyme, bay, chopped garlic and butter. Season, get a splash of sherry on the scene and stir through until the butter has melted. Spoon into a food processor, give it a brief blitz (I don’t like it too smooth), then spoon into ramekins. Create a seal with some clarified butter and a couple of bay leaves.

Winter apple cache

2011-12-09T05:42:00.000-08:00

Membrini

2011-12-05T02:53:00.000-08:00

There’s a surplus of membrillo in fridge. Slabs of the stuff; I could probably tile the utility room with this year’s batch alone. Perhaps I could use that spare jar of damson jam as grout? Anyway, i’m saving a good wedge for the Christmas cheeseboard, but a simple cocktail made from membrillo, clementine juice and fizz is a great seasonal twist on the classic Bellini.

PER COCKTAIL

2 sugar cube-sized chunks of membrillo

The juice of 1 clementine

Prosecco

Mash the membrillo and clementine juice together, then pour the syrup into the bottom of a champagne flute. Top up with prosecco, then "Quaff" (as they say in Farnborough's sultry nightspots).

My foraging companion

2011-11-28T02:09:00.000-08:00

Gingerbread houses

2011-11-23T02:19:00.000-08:00

Recipe >>> here <<<

Shot for BBC Good Food Magazine, December '11 issue

Recipe/food styling: Sarah Cook

Prop styling: Tony Hutchinson

Gnarl

2011-11-22T03:10:00.000-08:00

Oysters with mignonette dressing

2011-11-20T11:02:00.000-08:00

Roast guinea fowl, chicory and walnut salad

2011-11-13T06:39:00.000-08:00

Winter’s boney fingers have felt their way through the garden. Mint’s on its last legs; the chives look set to follow suit in due course. Parsley that once spilled out of the herb beds onto the lawn looks austere, albeit with small flickers of new growth next to the wall. I’ll be damned if I won’t get one last hurrah out of these chaps, whether it’s a mixed herb pesto (see here), or this simple salad using the least-crestfallen of the remaining leaves.

1 Guinea fowl

Garlic cloves

4 Chicory heads (I used a mixture of red and green)

A handful of flat leaf parsley leaves

A bunch of chives, finely snipped

A handful of de-shelled walnuts

About 100ml sherry or port

A small handful of raisins

Olive oil

1 Large lemon

Salt and pepper

1 The night before, leave the raisins to soak and plump up in the sherry. Preheat the oven to 180c/fan160c/gas 4. Brush the guinea fowl with olive oil, then season. Use a knife to make a few holes in the breast and legs, then wedge in some garlic cloves. Cover with baking foil and roast for one hour (remove the foil 45 mins in to let the bird go golden). Allow to cool for a bit, then remove the meat with a pair of forks.

2 Pour 6tbsp olive oil into a jam jar, then squeeze in the juice of the lemon. Season well, pop the lid on and shake. Arrange the chicken and chicory on a large plate or platter. Scatter over parsley, chives and walnuts. Drizzle the dressing over the salad, then spoon over the swollen raisins.

ANOTHER WALNUT RECIPE TO TRY:

Wild walnut, stilton and honey foccacia

Mugwort, hop and nettle leaf infusion

2011-11-12T05:59:00.000-08:00

Toffee apple popcorn

2011-11-06T08:05:00.000-08:00

Pomegranates

2011-10-29T10:17:00.000-07:00

Pumpkiny chilli with saffron rice

2011-10-17T01:36:00.000-07:00

If you’re holding a Halloween party or heading out to watch some fireworks, it’s nice to make this chilli ahead, spoon into small, scooped out pumpkins and place in a low oven to warm until you’re ready to eat. Make sure that the pumpkins are sitting on trays, just in case they bubble over. Serves 4.

FOR THE CHILLI

A small piece of root ginger, grated

3 Garlic cloves, chopped

1 Red chilli, chopped (remove seeds if you don’t want it too hot)

1 Star anise

1 Large onion, finely chopped

1tsp Fennel seeds

500g Minced beef

1 Tin of chopped tomatoes

400ml Beef stock

2tsp Paprika

1tsp Ground cumin

1 Tin of kidney beans

A large handful of chopped mushrooms

200g pumpkin, cut into small cubes

Cayenne pepper

Chopped parsley

Feta cheese, to serve

FOR THE SAFFRON RICE

240g Basmati rice

A pinch of saffron strands

1 Soften the ginger, garlic and chilli in a pan with the star anise, then stir in the onion and fennel seeds. After a few minutes add the mince; once it has browned get the mushrooms on the scene.

2 Pour in the chopped tomatoes and stock, then stir in the pumpkin and kidney beans. Season, then finally add the paprika and cumin before simmering for a good 20-25 minutes. If your chilli’s a bit on the mild side sprinkle some Cayenne in for extra fire.

3 To make the saffron rice, first rinse the rice a few times in luke warm water to get rid of some of the starch. Cover the rice in a pan with cold water (so that the level is approximately 1cm above the rice), sprinkle in the saffron and place on a medium heat. Avoid the temptation to stir. When the water has reached a fast bubble, turn down to low for 5 minutes. You’re on the right track if little holes start appearing on the surface of the rice. Kill the heat and put a lid on the pan; fluff the rice occasionally with a fork.

4 Just before serving, stir some chopped parsley into the chilli. Serve with feta cheese crumbled on top.

Quinces roasted in Pineau des Charentes

2011-10-12T02:56:00.000-07:00

Remember the opening credits to Quincy M.E.? A recurrent clip is interspersed throughout episode footage (mostly snippets of Quincy in a blind rage, shouting at someone); we’re led to believe that it shows him inspecting a dead body on a post-mortem table. But wait! The camera zooms out to reveal our hero ‘examining’ a bikini-clad lady’s shoulder on a yacht, moored up in a posh harbour! The cad! They toast a pair of gin & tonics - I swear that hers is laced with anaesthetic snaffled from the lab though. He’s not quite right that Quincy is he?

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, click here

Reader, I apologise. I feel that I’ve lured you here under the pretence of offering warming autumnal sustenance, only to digress with talk of a 1970s American TV series*. Many thanks to the lovely Silvana de Soissons for a bagful of gorgeous Quinces - I plan on making a batch of membrillo with the remaining fruit, but couldn’t resist roasting a few up on Sunday for dessert. It’s really worth trying to track down a bottle of Pineau (to drink as well as to cook with); I had the good fortune to visit the Charente Valley in the summer, but Oddbins stock it. Serves 4.

*Which was never a patch on Columbo, I might add.

4 Quinces, quartered and cored

1 Wine glass of Pineau des Charentes (use port or sherry if you can’t get hold of this)

Zest and juice of 1 orange

4Tbsp Honey

6 Cloves

2 Star anise

1 Cinnamon stick, broken up

Vanilla ice cream, to serve

Heat the oven to 200C/fan 180C/gas 6. Arrange the quinces in a large baking dish, then add the remaining ingredients. Cook in the oven for about an hour, turning the quinces regularly and spooning the juice over the softening fruit. Serve with scoops of vanilla ice cream.

Chunky root vegetable soup with cheesy pesto toasts

2011-10-06T03:08:00.001-07:00

Recipe: James Martin

Prop Styling: Arabella McNie

Food Styling: Lizzie Harris

Shot for BBC Good Food magazine, November 2011

Mushrooming at Ardanaiseig

2011-10-04T06:34:00.001-07:00

For more information on Ardanaiseig hotel visit:

www.ardanaiseig.com

Here's a quick wild mushroom recipe:

Wild mushroom tarts

Marron glacé making

2011-09-25T11:47:00.001-07:00

Five spice duck with damson relish

2011-09-12T02:23:00.000-07:00

Autumn abounds; sepia tendrills creep through trees and hedgerows. The dichroic blur of a dragonfly glances across river surface as I fill the basket with damsons, wild carrot heads twisting themselves into forlorn curls along the muddy track. The countryside is contemplating the onset of winter. Serves 4.

4 Duck breasts, skin on

Chinese five spice powder

200g Damsons

A small piece of fresh root ginger, grated

1/2 Red onion, thinly sliced

4Tbsp Caster sugar

A splash of rosehip vinegar

The zest and juice of 1 orange

1 Star anise

Groundnut oil

1 Gently soften the ginger, onion and orange zest in a small pan while you de-stone the damsons. Stir in the fruit, sugar, star anise, orange juice and vinegar, then cook for a further 10 minutes (if your damsons are a touch astringent you may have to add a little extra sugar along the way). Leave to cool.

2 Spoon 3 tablespoons of five spice onto a large plate, then add salt and pepper. Roll each breast in the powder, then put to one side. If you like your duck skin extra crispy, score a criss-cross pattern into the skin with a sharp knife before seasoning.

3 Fry the duck breasts skin side down for 7-10 minutes until the skin is crispy. Turn the breasts over and cook for a further 5-7 minutes. Rest (the duck breasts - not you), slice, then serve in warm tortillas with spring onions and a good dollop of the relish.

ALSO GOOD TO MAKE NOW

Sloe gin

Beetroot crisps with fennel salt

2011-09-05T07:11:00.001-07:00

I’m a great fan of beetroot, but sometimes tire of the way it compels full-on culinary and visual commitment. Many of the other vegetables in the garden are happy to play part of an ensemble performance - Bulb Fennel turns in a fine Gloucester on a good day. Beetroot refuses to play any role but Lear, then goes all method in your kitchen, like Christian Bale. “Chide not fool; this is what I do!” it bellows; scarlet juices pluming through your meal. Simply does it here; thinly slice Pablo and Barbabietola Di Chioggia beets, deep-fry in Groundnut oil and serve with a scattering of ground fennel seeds and sea salt. Tasty stuff - not a tantrum in sight.

GREAT WITH...

Baba Ganoush

Ossobuco alla Milanese

2011-09-01T08:08:00.000-07:00

Shot for BBC Good Food Magazine October 2011 issue

Recipe: Anna del Conte
Food styling: Lizzie Harris
Prop styling: Arabella McNie

Blackberry ice cream

2011-09-01T08:07:00.001-07:00

Green tomato ketchup

2011-08-28T13:43:00.000-07:00

Over past two years I’ve become increasingly aware of a small child living in our house; a cheeky red haired girl who spoke very little until recently, but has begun to refer to me as “Da-da”. While not particularly forthcoming with rent, she has proved a welcome and enthusiastic companion in the garden - perhaps a little too so at times. Handfuls of green tomatoes are cast before me like jade marbles; I’ve learnt to dispel my horror at the premature harvest, and have whole heartedly embraced the concept of unripedom.

700g Green tomatoes
1 Green pepper
A small piece of root ginger, grated
2 Large garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 Onion, finely sliced
A small handful of chopped carrot tops (optional)
100ml White wine vinegar
75g Light muscovado sugar
1Tsp Cumin seeds
Cayenne pepper (optional)
Groundnut oil
Salt and pepper

1 Finely chop the tomatoes and green pepper. Simmer the garlic, ginger, onion and cumin seeds in a shallow pan with some oil, then stir in the toms and pepper. Keep on the simmer for 10 minutes or so, stirring regularly.
2 Pour in the vinegar, then add the sugar, carrot tops, cayenne and some seasoning. Keep on the heat until everything has become soft and pulpy, then blitz in a food processor and squash through a sieve into a bowl. Pour the ketchup into sterilised bottles.

Blackberry cheesecake mini-pots

2011-08-15T02:43:00.000-07:00

An orange sun slumped sulkily in the sky as I left the house, dipping quickly towards the horizon as I gathered a bowlful of blackberries in the fading light. In accordance to tradition I was consumed by mosquitos with great abandon; dessert was sorted though, which was ideal. Makes 4 - 6 pots, dependant on size of receptacles.

6 Hobnob biscuits, crushed

20g Melted unsalted butter

150g Blackberries

2Tbsp Caster sugar

A squeeze of orange juice

250g Mascarpone cheese

6Tbsp Double cream

4Tbsp Icing sugar

1 Crush the biscuits with a rolling pin, pour the crumbs into a bowl and stir in the the melted butter. Divide and squash the mixture into the bottom of each pot. Place in the fridge for about 15 minutes.

2 Heat the Blackberries, caster sugar and orange juice in a pan for a few minutes; until the sugar has dissolved and the berries have softened and released some of their juices.

3 Whisk the cream until it starts to thicken, then fold in the mascarpone and icing sugar.

4 Add a layer of blackberries to the bottom of each pot, then fill with the creamy cheesecake mix. Top with more blackberries and a drizzle of juice.

Feral fruit pastilles

2011-08-11T02:12:00.000-07:00

I find these make for an ideal lure when tempting deer out of thickets.

2lb mixed wild fruit (I used a combination of wild cherry plums, blackberries, elderberries, Oregon grapes, rowan berries and 2 scrumped discovery apples)

Caster sugar (the amount you need may vary, in this instance I needed 1lb)

The juice of 1 orange

1 Put the fruit into a large pan. Squeeze in the orange juice and pop on a low heat; stirring with a wooden spoon as the berries start to soften. When the fruit has totally broken down (20 minutes or so), take off the heat and carefully squash the pulpy liquid through a sieve into a bowl.

2 Weigh the mixture in the bowl (subtract the weight of the bowl), then measure out an equal amount of sugar. Pour the hot liquid back into the pan with the sugar and bring to a quick bubble. Keep on the heat for a good 30 minutes (at least - it takes a while). You’ll know when it’s ready when you push a wooden spoon through the thick mixture, the bottom of the pan is revealed, but it’s slow running back into the furrow. Testing to see if a dollop sets firmly on a plate is a good backup.

3 Line a small baking tray with greaseproof paper, pour in the mixture and allow to set. Once firm, lift the slab onto a board, cut into small squares and roll in caster sugar.

Scrumping in the apple orchard

2011-08-09T05:43:00.000-07:00

Good Food September '11 In Season Special

2011-07-28T05:26:00.000-07:00

Recipes: The Good Food Team

Food styling: Lizzie Harris

Prop styling: Jo Harris

Feature design: Todd Slaughter

Good Food Magazine September '11 Cover

2011-07-26T05:02:00.000-07:00

Crab claws

2011-07-20T06:37:00.001-07:00

Globe artichokes

2011-07-18T09:16:00.000-07:00

Ham hock, garden pea and pearl barley salad

2011-07-18T02:09:00.000-07:00

Frightful weather this weekend what? Perfect excuse to migrate into the kitchen for the afternoon, with a basket of fresh peas from the garden and a pork knuckle. Food assistant credit to Amélie, who helped with shelling of peas.

1 Ham hock

Stock ingredients (1 Onion, 2 Carrots, 2 Celery sticks, 1 Bay leaf, a sprig of thyme, a few Peppercorns and a pinch of Sea salt)

100g Chorizo, chopped

175g Pearl Barley

150g Garden peas, blanched for a few minutes in boiling water

1 Red onion, sliced

A bunch of spring onions, finely chopped

6Tbsp Olive oil

3Tbsp White wine vinegar

1Tsp Dijon mustard

2 Cloves garlic, crushed

Mint leaves

Pea shoots

Salt and pepper

1 First cook the ham. Place the hock in a large pan and just-cover with cold water. Roughly chop the stock veg, then add to the pot with seasoning, bay and thyme. Bring water to a simmer and leave on the hob for 3 hours, turning the meat intermittently. Let the hock cool on a board for 10 minutes, before shredding the meat off the bone with a pair of forks.

2 While the barley’s cooking (approximately 15 minutes in boiling water), fry the chorizo in a pan until crispy, then cool on kitchen paper.

3 Mix the ham, chorizo, peas, cooled barley, red onion, spring onions and some seasoning together in a large salad bowl. Stir in chopped mint and pea shoots.

4 Shake the olive oil, vinegar, garlic and mustard together in an old jam jar. Add a pinch of salt and pepper, then stir into the salad (just prior to serving, as the dressing soaks into the barley pretty sharpish).

Mary's peach tart

2011-07-14T01:27:00.000-07:00

A bowl of tomatoes on the steps of an old French church

2011-07-13T07:34:00.000-07:00

Oysters

2011-07-13T05:46:00.000-07:00

Fruity ice cups

2011-07-11T06:00:00.000-07:00

Scallops with courgette ribbons and microherbs

2011-06-27T09:06:00.000-07:00

Recipe and food styling: Beata Szmydki

Pennywort

2011-06-27T05:39:00.000-07:00

Digitalis

2011-06-23T09:35:00.000-07:00

Summer foraging special

2011-06-21T08:28:00.000-07:00

Mussels and Plum Tart

2011-06-10T02:48:00.001-07:00

Recipe and food styling: Julia Viramontes

Recipe and food styling: Katrina Michie

Strawberry and wild rose petal pavlovas

2011-05-28T11:13:00.000-07:00

Another flower recipe - what the hell, the summer months are quite a lean time for the forager, we might as well enjoy these fragile festoons along the hedgerows while we still can. Serves 4.

4 egg whites
200g Light muscovado sugar
1stp Cornflour
1tsp Rosehip vinegar
500g Strawberries
1tsp Rosewater
A few tablespoons of granulated sugar
A large handful of wild rose petals
A large pot of double cream, whipped

1 Heat oven to 150C/130C fan/gas 2. Beat the egg whites until they form stiff peaks; slowly whisk in the sugar, then the cornflour and vinegar. Spoon 4 meringues onto parchment covered baking sheets, bake for 1 hour and turn the oven off. Leave to cool.
2 Roughly chop 250g of the strawberries. Place in a pan with the granulated sugar, a splash of water and simmer for 10 minutes. When the strawberries have broken down, add the petals and rosewater. Keep on the heat for a further 5 minutes, then pass through a seive into a bowl.
3 Whisk the cream until thick. Take a few tablespoons of the strawberry syrup and fold into the cream, only briefly so that the syrup streaks the cream. Spoon the cream onto the meringue nests, then arrange chopped strawberries on top. Finish with and extra drizzle of syrup.

Fronds/Gloam

2011-05-22T07:18:00.001-07:00

Pan-fried Sea Bass with a quick tomato salsa

2011-05-21T11:02:00.000-07:00

You could serve this salsa with salmon, mackerel - any white fish; it would also be great spooned over a piece of chicken snatched straight off the barbie. I hear the weather forecast for tomorrow is a bit grim, so we're seizing the opportunity to have something light and summery while the going's good.

2 Line-caught Sea Bass fillets
A small punnet of cherry tomatoes, chopped
1 Shallot, finely chopped
1 Red chilli, finely chopped
The juice of 1 lime
2tsp Fish sauce
1tsp Sugar
A pinch of salt
Fresh coriander leaves
Rapeseed oil

1 Season the fillets with salt and pepper. Mix the the tomatoes, shallot and chilli together in a bowl, stir in the lime juice, fish sauce, sugar and coriander then put to one side.
2 Heat a splash of oil in a frying pan. Place the fillets skin side down in the pan and fry for 4-5 minutes, after which the skin should be nice and crispy. Flip over with a spatula and cook on the white side for about a minute. Plate up, then serve with a generous spoonful of salsa.

Hampshire breed sausages with puy lentils

2011-05-18T14:11:00.000-07:00

I'd thought the term 'Snorker' to be an oft-used colloquialism for the

sausage around these parts. However, upon mentioning to friends that I was

"Gonna buy some good snorkers at the weekend", i think it was assumed

that I was referring to either a) some kind of bizarre sub-aquatic

enterprise, or b) an acquisition altogether more saucy, perhaps

warranting a Sid James-esque cackle as I left the shop. As it happened

I was just going to the butchers to get some bits for lunch, but such

is the way. Serves 2.

4 Hampshire breed sausages

200g Cooked puy lentils

1 Red onion, finely chopped

2 garlic cloves, finely chopped

1 Red chilli, deseeded and finely chopped

Fresh thyme, stalks removed

2tsp Dijon mustard

4tbsp Olive oil

Zest and juice of 1 lemon

A small bunch of spring onions

1 Pop your sausages under the grill. Gently soften the garlic, chilli,

onions and thyme in a pan, stir in the lentils and turn the heat off.

2 When the sausages are just about ready, spoon the mustard into a jam

jar, then add the olive oil, lemon juice and zest. Season, shake well and stir

into the lentils, along with the spring onions. Serve

with the cooked snorkers.

Lashings of ginger beer

2011-05-17T07:23:00.000-07:00

Elderflower cordial

2011-05-16T01:37:00.000-07:00

It’s the first port of call for many when the elderflowers emerge each year, and for good reason. I’m working on some unusual ways of using elderflower with meat at the moment (stick with me here), but for the moment here’s a recipe for the classic cordial.

For a quick and refreshing cocktail, mix 1 shot of vodka, a splash of elderflower cordial, mint leaves, sliced cucumber and ice in the bottom of high ball glass, then top up with soda water. It's a quencher.

Elderflower cordial

25 Elderflower heads

2kg Granulated sugar

3 Pints boiling water

1 Unwaxed lemon

1 Unwaxed orange

50g Citric acid

Add the sugar to large bowl/pan and pour over the boiling water. Stir to dissolve, then add the zest and juice of the lemon and orange. Give the elderflowers a little shake outside to get rid of any bugs, then stir into the sugary syrup. Cover with a cloth and leave for 24 hours. Strain through muslin and decant into sterilised bottles*.

* Make them strong bottles. One of mine exploded once; it was not in the slightest bit amusing.

Orecciette with braised rabbit, wild fennel and red clover flowers

2011-05-09T04:37:00.000-07:00

I couldn’t resist adding a few red clover flowers to this dish, in a (my sister would suggest sick) nod to Thumper’s favourite nibble in Bambi. His enthusiasm was well founded, they have a gentle pea-like flavour. Making your own orecciette is rewarding and theraputic in equal measure; it doesn’t take long to get the hang of it. Serves 2.

For the Orecciette

200g Semolina

100g Plain flour

Warm water

1 Rabbit, jointed

2 Bay leaves

A Few sprigs of thyme

A Few black peppercorns

Chicken stock

2 Garlic cloves, finely chopped

1 Large red onion, finely chopped

1tsp Wild fennel seeds

Salt and pepper

A small bunch of flatleaf parsey leaves, roughly chopped

Wild fennel fronds

A few red clover flowers

Grated Parmesan cheese, to serve

1 Mix the semolina and flour together in a large bowl. Add the water slowly, bringing everything together until you have a firm dough. Knead on a floured work surface for 10-15 minutes, at which point the dough should be nice and elastic.

To shape, flour your hands and roll out a small, marble-sized ball of dough. Place in the centre of your palm and gently flatten with your thumb, pulling away slightly at the end to create a curled ‘ear’ shape. Pop your orecciette onto a floured tray.

2 Heat the stock in a shallow pan with bay, peppercorns and thyme. Add the rabbit, topping up with a little water if necessary to just about cover the meat. Braise for about an hour, taking care that the water doesn’t boil. When the rabbit is tender, remove from the stock and set aside to cool. Strain the stock through a sieve, then pour back into the pan. Top up with a little more water, bring to the boil and add the orecciette.

3 Remove the rabbit meat from the bones, then heat a slosh of good olive oil in a sauté pan. Soften the garlic, onion and fennel seeds, before adding the rabbit to warm through. When the pasta is soft and to your liking, kill the heat on the stock and remove the ears with a slotted spoon.

4 Stir the pasta into the softened onions and rabbit, along with a couple of ladels of stock and some roughly chopped parsley. Season, then serve with parmesan, wild fennel fronds and red clover flowers (chive flowers are good too if you’re sans clover).

For more fresh pasta recipes, Giulia Scarpaleggia is curating this month's pasta themed Monthly Mingle. See below for more information...

http://en.julskitchen.com/fresh-pasta/fresh-pasta-monthly-mingle-lets-make-it-the-italian-way

http://www.whatsforlunchhoney.net/2006/04/my-monthly-mingle.html

Violet and lime granita

2011-05-04T03:13:00.000-07:00

This dessert is simple, refreshing and quick to make. Sharpness of lime adds spirit and a gentle, almost melancholy violet hue cools the scorched reds of a hot summer’s day. Perfect for an alfresco supper at dusk, or spooned into paper cups for the younglings.

2 Cups of Water

1 Cup of Violet sugar

Zest and juice of 4 Limes

Heat the water in a pan, add the sugar and stir to dissolve. Squeeze in the lime juice, then allow to cool. Strain, pour into a container and freeze overnight. To serve, scratch at the frozen surface with a fork and scoop into chilled glasses.

Ganmodoki

2011-05-03T04:54:00.000-07:00

Shot for BBC Good Food Magazine, May 2011 issue

Recipe: Julie Frankland

Prop styling: Jo Harris

Food styling: Kate Calder

Ramson butter

2011-04-29T05:45:00.000-07:00

A slice of pie in the apple orchard

2011-04-22T13:13:00.000-07:00

Recipe: Nan

Dr Who

2011-04-21T03:34:00.000-07:00

Mini chocolate Dalek cakes

Radioactive spuds with cool avocado cream

Sonic screwdrivers

Food styling: Sarah Cook

http://doctorwho.bbcamerica.com/extras-recipes

Asparagus

2011-04-20T01:36:00.001-07:00

Hot damn! The UK asparagus season officially starts this Saturday (23rd April). Here is some for you to look at with your eyes.

See here for more information on British asparagus:

http://british-asparagus.co.uk/

Baba ganoush with garlic mustard flowers

2011-04-18T02:25:00.000-07:00

Raspberry and orange tiramisu

2011-04-05T01:32:00.000-07:00

Shot for BBC Good Food Magazine, May 2011 issue

Recipe: Aldo Zilli

Prop styling: Jo Harris

Food styling: Kate Calder

Pine needle vinegar

2011-04-04T01:35:00.000-07:00

The problem lies with its ubiquity within the household cleaning/room fragrance market. One brings a fair amount of nasal baggage to the Pine table (not literally - ours is Beech); it's hard to shake off when you start to cook with it. I made a bottle of Pine needle syrup a couple of months ago - to be honest, it was like sucking on a Glade Plug In.

Pine needle vinegar is quite a different story. Subtract sweetness for acidity; the Pine notes are still there, but the results are far more interesting. It's pretty simple to make too.

Scots Pine needle vinegar
Cider or white wine vinegar
A bag of Scots Pine boughs

Remove the pine needles from the boughs and wash. Bring the vinegar to the boil, then allow to cool for a short while. While it's cooling, fill a sterilized bottle with Scots pine needles, then pour in the warm vinegar. Leave in a dark spot for about two months before using.

Summer, 1997

2011-04-01T01:23:00.000-07:00

It was probably around midnight when the taxi dropped me back at the village. As the car sped off, a beam of headlamp briefly sketched out the silhouette of a large object, slumped across the other side of the road. I swayed over to the shape - it was a dead badger.

It may seem stupid in retrospect, but such was my state - one of inebriation, that I immediately became consumed with grief. What a sorry waste! There he was, homeward bound to see Mrs Badger and the kids, and some bastard hit him! My duty soon became apparent. How could I let it suffer the cruel indignity of being slowly squashed into the tarmac by the morning traffic? I quickly resolved to fetch a shovel, scoop it up, and lay it to rest in the hedge. It was the right thing to do. As if being dispatched to The Great Set in the Sky by a Fiat Uno (possibly) wasn't enough!

Still seething at "Man's selfish disregard for the natural world with his roads", I plotted a wobbly course through the back garden and grappled around in the darkness for the shed. Ten minutes later, my fingers found the handle of a spade resting among a pile of bamboo canes. Stumbling back outside into the still night, I was ready. Tooled Up, as it were.

It was a big old beast, but I managed to slide the spade underneath it. A fish slice would not have sufficed. I barely noticed a pair of headlights appearing in the distance - too important was the task in hand. The low rumble of an engine got louder and louder; I figured it would pass me by. Probably just a grumbling father, dragged out of bed to pick up his daughter, keen to get back home. To my horror, at the point at which I lifted the badger up to waist height on the spade, the car pulled up next to me and a window wound down. John Turner, who I knew from school, peered out cautiously through the open window.

We chatted briefly, exchanging light-hearted pleasantries about our respective evenings. I may well have quipped that I was, "well pissed". Yet for some reason neither of us mentioned the fact that I was elevating a dead badger, three feet from the ground, with a rusty piece of gardening equipment. Perhaps it was an unspoken mark of respect between us, a tribute to innocent life lost? It's more likely he thought I'd beaten the poor creature to death with a shovel. Even after all these years, if we bump into each other in the street, the subject's off-limits. As the car pulled away, I slipped Old Brock carefully into the verge and hot-tailed it to bed. My work here was done.

Wild leaf and spring flower salad

2011-03-28T01:44:00.000-07:00

At some point during the weekend I'll find myself drifting listlessly

along the salad aisle; inspecting withered, asphyxiated leaves as they

breathe beads of condensation onto tightly-sealed plastic shells. I

can't pretend to be a wild food/grow your own martyr (eight times out

of ten a bag of rocket is flung into the basket) - but today, as the

sun shone, it just wouldn't do.

Amélie and I had been out for a walk the morning before, so I had a

rough idea of what was around. On the off-chance I wandered up the

track next to the wild apple - bunches of young ox-eye daisy leaves

were poking up though the grass. Juicy and succulent, I think they're

equal to any salad leaf.

Wild leaf and spring flower salad

• Ox-eye daisy leaves

• Dandelion leaves (used sparingly, they can be quite bitter)

• Hairy bittercress (leaves and flowers)

• Pink dead nettle (leaves and flowers)

• White dead nettle (leaves and flowers)

• Common vetch shoots

• Gorse flowers

Young forager

2011-03-25T04:50:00.000-07:00

We found:
Hairy bittercress
Pink dead nettles
White dead nettles
Common vetch
Wood sorrel

Spring nettles

2011-03-23T04:04:00.000-07:00

Wild garlic

2011-03-21T02:49:00.000-07:00

Every time I put this old coat on I forget that the lining in the right pocket's completely worn through. The story unfolds in a similar fashion each time - absence of small change, no oyster card, notes jotted on paper gone; to an observer the trail in my wake must look like a poor, Hansel and Gretel-inspired means of finding the way back home. Rage ensues, invariably vocal and with reference to "That bastard coat" - yet still, a year or so will pass, I'll see it on the hanger and think, "I haven't worn that in ages!".

There's spot by the Whitewater River that I head to each year when the Wild garlic is in full swing. Cross the old moss-covered bridge and a familiar garlicky hum drifts out of a small patch of woodland by the riverbank; closer inspection reveals clusters of green, ribbon-like leaves unravelling across the ground towards the water's edge. I parked the car by the roadside and made my way through the trees, basket in hand. Having gathered a few large bunches, cut cleanly at the base with a knife, I headed back to the car.

Could I find the (only set of) car keys? Reader, it took me twenty five minutes to find those bloody things in the woods, rifling frantically through the Ramsons as if foraging for some rare, key shaped truffle. I eventually found them, concealed from the eye by a heap of broken branches - by which point my nerves were shot to bits.

I like to keep things simple with wild garlic - last night I stirred a finely-chopped handful through a block of softened butter, wrapped it in foil, then rolled it into a cylinder shape. Kept in the fridge, a couple of pound coin-sized slices melting on a juicy steak are a thing of wonder. The coat is back on the coat rack, after a good bit of stitchwork.

Twenty two chopsticks

2011-03-18T09:39:00.001-07:00

Panch phoran pork belly with roasted grapes

2011-03-14T03:09:00.000-07:00

We used to own two Vietnamese pot-bellied pigs, somewhat cruelly

christened 'Sweet' and 'Sour'. Not that they were ever destined for

the pot; they spent their days snoring in the barn, chewing lazily on

leftovers from the kitchen. Soon after their arrival, Riley the duck

(easily slighted, not regularly clipped of wing) made an ill-advised

bid for freedom. The last I saw of him was a scribble of black

feathers flapping enthusiastically towards the fox-filled wilderness.

It may seem macabre to segue from family swine anecdotes to crispy

pork recipes, but for me it compounds the importance of knowing my meat's

heritage; making sure that the animal led a happy life, raised in good conditions.

I learnt the method of twice-cooking pork belly a couple of years ago - it's a winner.

Panch phoran pork belly with roasted grapes

A piece of pork belly

1tbsp Panch phoron (an equal mix of Coriander, Cumin, Mustard, Onion and Fenugreek seeds)

Sea salt

Vegetable oil

Black grapes

1 Star anise

Heat your oven to 150C/fan 130C/gas 2. Crush the Panch phoron in a pestle and mortar, add salt, then rub the mix into the pork belly. Place the pork belly skin side up in a deep, oven-proof dish, then completely cover with vegetable oil (so that it's submerged - don't worry, the oil won't soak into the meat, it actually draws fat out). Cover with foil and cook in the oven for 3 hours.

Remove the meat from the oil and let it cool for a bit on a board. Put piece of greaseproof paper on a baking sheet, then transfer the meat onto the paper. Place another sheet of greaseproof on top of the meat, then complete the sandwich with another baking sheet on top. Weigh down with tin cans and leave in the fridge overnight.

Heat the oven to 220C/ fan 200C/ gas 7. Put the pork in an oiled baking dish, nestle the grapes next to it and drizzle with olive oil. I wedged a star anise in between the grape stalks for a bit of extra flavour. Roast the 20-25 minutes, 'til the pork skin is crispy, and the grapes are squidgy.

Birch sap and lemongrass syrup

2011-03-07T02:16:00.000-08:00

As crisp Sunday mornings in early March go, additional layers would have been a benefit. A green woodpecker took exception to my presence in a small patch of heathland, flouncing off grumpily in a sinusoid of lime green across the heather tops. I'd had notions of a badger or suchlike stumbling into my carefully balanced bottle during the night, but all was well. Birch sap is at it's best during the first few weeks of March. It takes a bit of time to reduce to syrup but it's well worth it, the results boasting a subtle caramel flavour.

To tap a silver birch tree

Find a good sturdy birch, well off the beaten track. At a smooth point on trunk about two feet from the ground, drill a hole approximately 1.5" deep, at an upward angle. Sap should start to trickle out immediately; insert a thin piece of tubing into the hole. A large bottle or medium-sized demijohn, neck wedged over the tube, will collect the sap. It's by no means a spritely endeavor, so come back the next morning to collect. You’ll need look after the tree once you have finished with it; a piece of dowel wedged into the hole stops the flow of sap. I also cover the point with a bit of clay to create an extra seal.

Silver birch and lemongrass syrup

1 litre Fresh silver birch sap

2 tbsp granulated sugar

1 lemongrass, bashed about

Bring the birch sap to the boil and reduce by approximately nine tenths; this gets rid of most of the water and the sugary birch flavour intensifies. Stir in the sugar to dissolve. Add the lemongrass, removing after just a few minutes (the lemongrass notes are there to compliment, not usurp). Allow to cool before drizzling over fresh fruit.

Wattle corner

2011-03-03T02:33:00.000-08:00

Wattle Corner sits less than a mile from Stone in Oxney in Kent, nestling on the horizon as one winds up the narrow road from the village. A shroud of branches all but conceals the 17th century house from the roadside; patches of weathered brickwork flicker briefly into view as you pass.

It's here that my childhood friend John Davis and his parents used to live over twenty years ago. Although I didn't really think about it until recently, I'm sure that the years spent exploring the house, its garden and the surrounding countryside with him helped shape my passion for food and a love of the wild.

Vast open fields fall away towards the River Rother on the south side; dense woodland resides to the north. The wood was stocked with pheasant for the game season; I once had the bright idea of attempting to poach one (homemade bow and arrow being the rudimentary weapon of choice). This idea quickly dispersed when the gamekeeper chased us out of the wood, brandishing a twelve bore. Terrifying. Nevertheless, there were often a brace of birds hanging in one of the outbuildings back at the house; lord knows where John's mum got them. The butcher's probably, like most people.

I'm cautious about rose-tinted skews on the past, but this place genuinely felt like it was a cook's paradise. An old orchard sprawled alongside the house; gnarled, lichen-covered apple and pear trees blossoming excitedly in the spring, then creaking under the weight of heavy fruit come late summer. Espalier damsons crept up the south face - or were they plums? Can't quite remember. Then there was the vegetable garden.

John grew and tended everything (startlingly impressive in retrospect - we were about 9 at the time). The garden was filled with neat rows of carrots, potatoes, beetroot, broad beans, lettuce, fennel - to name but a few. I'd never seen a globe artichoke before, let alone eaten one. Clumps of wheat and barley swayed in one corner, gooseberry, raspberry and blackcurrant bushes crouched in the other. The greenhouse was full of young seedlings in trays, waiting to be planted when their time came. I think the deal was that John grew it; his mum cooked it, which seemed fair enough – she was a great cook.

The house was sold, the family moved and John and I sadly lost touch. Such is the way I guess. That garden was amazing though. It's still the benchmark in the back of my mind as I sort through a pile of seed packets, preparing to get our little veg patch up and running again. I've knocked the poaching aspirations on the head though. For the time being anyway.

Sweet violet scented sugar

2011-02-28T01:11:00.000-08:00

Fortune cast me a favourable glance this afternoon. Trudging back along a muddy path towards the railway crossing, I stumbled across a patch of sweet violets huddled underneath two old chestnut trees. The small purple flowers were in abundance, so I felt guilt-free in confiscating a handful. I've yet to decide what to make with the sugar, but I'll keep you posted. Kind of feels like I need a bit of zesty lime in the equation somewhere...

Sweet violet scented sugar

A handful of sweet violet petals

Granulated sugar

Scatter a layer of violet petals at the bottom of a jar. Cover with sugar and repeat the

process, building up petal/sugar layers until the jar is full. Leave for about a week,

then remove the violets.

Blue mussels

2011-02-24T02:17:00.000-08:00