Why Mums Don't Need To Go To Iceland

Just a short post about some easy to do party nibbles that I've tried recently which seemed to go down well. I've noticed that there's a great trade in so called Party Food at the supermarkets these days. You can  buy a ton of "party food" at Iceland for a couple of quid, but I dread to think a) what's in it, and b) what it tastes like, so whether you're a Mum or not, save yourself the effort of trailing round the aisles and try this simple recipe that you can knock up in the time it would have taken you to drive to Iceland and back, (for overseas readers that's the supermarket not the country) plus you'll  use up what you've probably already got, and have something that tastes great and contains no rubbish.

Using greek filo pastry means you don't have to go to the effort of making your own pastry, which is beyond the call of duty at this time of year. I recommend keeping a packet of filo in the fridge over Christmas as it can be pressed into mini muffin tins and filled with all sorts of things should the need arise. It's not that I think it's particularly delicious, in fact it's quite bland, but filled with Christmas type luxury goods it works really well.  You also have the advantage of being able to lever yet more food out of the fridge and into people's stomachs, thus using up some of the Christmas leftovers such as smoked salmon, stilton, and cream, before they spoil and are wasted, which is of course, a criminal offence.

The bases

You'll need a packet of filo pastry, and a tin to make the little tarts in - I used a mini muffin tin which has makes two dozen at a time.

Melt a large knob of butter and use it to brush on yourtins and your  filo pastry sheets before you cut it up roughly with a pair of scissors into small squares suitable for your tins, .Scrunch about three layers of buttered filo into each tin, you can be as rough as you like with the finish - it adds to the appearance it bits are left sticking up.

The fillings

I used three fillings because that was what I had in the fridge. You may well think of others.

1.Several ounces of chopped smoked salmon,  (use inexpensive trimmings if you're buying it)

2. Chopped walnuts with crumbled stilton cheese

3. Onion marmalade, with a slice of goats cheese or brie on top

Lightly beat together two medium eggs with a good half pint or so of double cream. Season with salt and pepper, except for the smoked salmon ones, which will be salty enough. It's difficult to give exact quantities as it rather depends on how much filling you put in each tartlet. But I would try to fill the cases and use the cream to fill in the spaces and you won't go far wrong. Bake in a hot oven till golden brown and slightly puffed.  You can serve them straight away, or more usefully cool them and store in the fridge for later.

Go upstairs and do your hair, put on the frock, and the shoes. Teeter into the kitchen and reheat your homemade canapes on an oven tray for a few minutes when you're ready to serve.

Happy New Year!

When Icicles Hang By The Wall

 

When icicles hang by the wall

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail

And Tom bears logs into the hall

And milk comes frozen home in pail,

When blood is nipp'd and ways be foul,

When nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit;

Tu-who, a merry note,

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot,

When all aloud the wind doth blow

And coughing drowns the parson's saw

And birds sit brooding in the snow

And Marian's nose looks red and raw,

When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,

When nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit;

Tu-who, a merry note,

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

William Shakespeare

From Love's Labours Lost, Act V. Sc. II

This was a poem we had to learn by heart in our English lessons at school, and at the time it seemed  very boring to us, and indeed, recited as it was at our leaden pace, it certainly lacked the tour de force of a great Shakespearean performance.  Gielgud it wasn't. But it does come into my head every winter at some juncture, especially when I see things like this on the roof of the house

so I'm glad now that we did have to learn it. Even though we spent more time making silly schoolgirl jokes about "greasy Joan" than was strictly required.

Even in the depths of winter the wisteria manages to give us seasonal delights.In fact these two foot long icicles are something of a ghost of the summer flowers when you think about it.  I did endanger life and limb to get these shots though - if there had been a sudden thaw I could have been impaled!

 

Anyway, the Met Office advises us now that no more snow is expected in the Wilts/Glos area before Christmas, - we have got quite enough to be going on with thanks very much, so I'm spending some time making mince pies, wrapping presents, and generally catching up on all the stuff I should have done last week before what will henceforth be known as The  Log Basket Incident. And on that subject, many thanks to all those lovely people who left kind comments about our little incendiary moment, which really cheered me no end when things were looking a bit bleak last week. Our Lady Decorator, Sharon, and her other half is doing a sterling job, and assures me we will all be ship shape again before Christmas day.

 

Merry Christmas to one and all!

from Kathy and all at Carters Barn

Change of Address

I've changed my address. I no longer live at Carters Barn in the lovely Wiltshire countryside. I now reside at twenty seven Catastrophe Mansions, Disaster Avenue, Slough of Despond, Hades.

There's a rule of life that says If Something Can Go Wrong, It Will.  So if a fire is going to break out, it will do so a week before Christmas when your rellies are about to arrive, and your decorations are just going up.

I also find that one never looks one's best when a burly fireman is bursting through the front door, hose in hand. I love a man in uniform as I think I've said before, and yet when you should be wearing your best Nigella style black satin dressing gown, floating back elegantly from the kitchen, wodge of chocolate cake in hand, you find yourself in fact wearing your slightly shrunk in the wash cotton nightie, a pair of wellies, and a dog walking coat that's let's face it has seen better days. No make up and a hair style reminiscent of Bill Clinton's worst excesses, where the hair appears to be growing at an angle perpendicular to the head. I'd jumped out of bed and grabbed the first thing to hand before dialling 999. And thank goodness for the Swindon Fire Brigade, and the Cricklade Retained Fire Service. Lovely men, fantastic service. Could not have asked for more. Thanks guys.

I can see the funny side of this now, but only because no one was hurt, thank goodness, when an ember set fire to a log basket in the early hours, and I know that the damage can all be put right. The man from NFU was quick and helpful, and we just have to find a carpet fitter, a decorator, and a builder who can restore us to some normality this side of Christmas. "Stuff" is all replaceable. The only thing I was really upset about was a little thing that's not reallly replaceable

My children made a set of partridges/doves/calling birds(not quite sure which)  many years ago from card and tinsel, following instructions from  Blue Peter, and I have brought them out every Christmas since. So I was particularly sad to see that they had gone in the fire, all but this little charred remain. But I will continue to treasure this single  little partridge/dove/calling bird with it's singed tail as a reminder of good fortune, and wait until my grandchildren are old enough to make me another set. Things could have been a lot, lot worse. So maybe it's not quite Catastrophe Mansions, maybe it's more like twenty seven Lucky Lane, Therebut-Forfortune, Wiltshire.

Black satin on the Christmas list maybe?

PS Please check your smoke alarm batteries, they could save your life.

Kathy's Homemade Christmas

If you're a fan of homemade stuff in general Kirsty's TV series on how to make things yourself will come as no surprise to you, and pretty, homespun and folksy as it may be, lots of us have been doing things like this for years. But it is good to see these easy tideas brought to a wider audience. At least now you don't have to apologize for it, and since it's now vaguely fashionable to have home made stuff around the place, you can even give it to people as presents, and they might even be pleased to get your home produced jar or preserves, or hand knitted scarf, or whatever. The older ones among us may remember the wonderful  Joyce Grenfell's monologue "Useful and Acceptable Gifts" where a lady from the WI lectures on the acceptability of some truly terrible home made items. Crinoline ladies astride the spare loo roll, spring to mind. It was very funny,but it's probably a sign of the times nowadays when people are so time poor, and many of us just collapse on the sofa in front of the tv in the evenings when in times past we might have amused ourselves with a bit of knitting, sewing or craftwork.

All of which brings me to the point - salt dough. Many people think of this as cheap play dough for children but there's no need to relegate this cheap and cheerful stuff to the children's playgroup, although children will love doing it with you. Salt dough is quick and easy and can be made into durable and attractive decorations for Christmas.  Now I really do sound like Joyce Grenfell.

Just mix one cup of salt to each two cups of plain flour, and add about one cup of water to make a dough. Don't use expensive sea salt here, you want the cheapest bag on the supermarket shelf for this. Knead it to a smooth dough and roll out and cut using appropriately Christmassy cutters, remembering to make a small hanging hole at the top.

Bake the decorations in a very cool oven for several hours until dry and hard. The bottom oven of the Aga is ideal or around 200 degrees F.When completely dry allow to cool and paint and decorate as you wish. You can use any kind of paint you like, I happened to find an old tin of red gloss paint at the back of the garage which worked well, but it's a good idea to cover the finished item with a waterproof varnish of some kind, so that your ornaments will keep from year to year.

And remember you can always embarrass your children in years to come by lovingly bringiing out the creations they made when they were three.

Decorate your  items in seasonal colours, glitter, and tie with raffia or ribbons. A bit of gold or bronze paint rubbed on gives a suitably distressed effect if that's what you like. Or you can go for the neat and tidy like the one at the top of the page.

I've made a job lot this year, as we have the village hall to decorate, and can't afford to spend much money on it. So it's home made, homespun, and, to my eyes at least, even prettier.

Disappearing species?

Wow, look at this amazing rarity

yes, I hear you say, it's a greengrocer's shop. Whoopee do.  So what? Well, this is Bramley's - it's the only greengrocer's shop in Cirencester and it's new. The last small greengrocer closed some years ago, leaving the almost the entire fruit and veg market to the supermarkets. There is a farmers market of course, for local seasonal produce but that's not there every day, and fine as it is, it's some way from any parking area, so people tend not to buy large amounts of heavy stuff, like potatoes and oranges.

It may seem amazing to people like my daughter say, who, living in London is surrounded by fine shops selling all kinds of British. European and Asian greengrocery, but in many English towns small shops have, one by one, fallen victim to the overwhelming buying power of supermarkets and closed down. They tend, by the way,  to reopen as coffee shops, I had a quick count up and there are at least eleven cafes and coffee shops in Cirencester at the moment. At least most of them are independents though, and some of them are really good, but I can't help wondering how much coffee people can drink?

Anyway it does seem like perhaps the tide is turning, we now have a fishmonger in the town, and I also noticed a new butcher's shop has opened too, maybe people are at last getting tired of one stop shopping, and some variety will be returning to our town centres at last. And one of the best things about this shop is that it's in the middle of the Brewery car park, so you can buy your potatoes, oranges, swedes and other heavy items and put them straight in the car, without giving yourself a hernia. So hopefully people will use it. I was in a hurry when I snapped this pic on my phone, so didn't have time to go in, but it all looked good and I will certainly be giving it a try very soon.

I'm sorry if this seems unneccesary jubilation over a simple greengrocer's shop, especially coming from someone who bangs on about home grown fruit and veg, but I can't grow lemons say, and the salad's a bit thin on the ground in November, so it's great for those things, but most of all it's a resurrection of some kind of choice and variety in the high street that I'm so pleased to see. Well done Bramleys and good luck!

Robin's Bounty

Robin sent me these knobbly chaps recently

The true quince, Cydonia oblonga, (as opposed to Chaenomeles japonica the ornamental or japanese quince) is something of a rarity in English gardens, so can usually only be obtained if you have, or know someone who has, a quince tree. Ornamental quinces are often seen in gardens and indeed do produce a quince like fruit in the autumn, but in my experience this is nothing like the fruit of the proper quince. They look a bit similar, in that they are both hard and completely inedible raw, but the true quince, when cooked has the ability to be transformed  into a fragrant amber puree, quite unlike anything else. Incidentally it's said that the "apple" of the Garden of Eden was in fact a quince, though it speaks volumes for Eve's powers of temptation that she could lure anyone with such a sour knobbly thing as a raw quince! Maybe it wasn't really the fruit he was after....

Anyway, Robin was kind enough to send me quite a lot of quinces, so I've been playing about with various recipes and ideas for using them. They are famously partnered with apples, and bring a special fragrance to a traditional apple pie which lifts it quite out of the ordinary. But it has to be said that the flavour is fairly intense, and even if you like it, as I do, it can get a bit overpowering after several days of experimental simmering and stirring. So I intend to set aside my creations for a day or two and then come back and see what works best. So far I've made Quince and Apple Jelly, Quince and Cranberry Preserve, Quince Cheese, or Membrillo, and Quince Mincemeat.

Quinces are hard and curiously downy, so first of all you need to wash off the downy covering, then chop them roughly and either boil them until soft and strain through a jelly bag, or steam them in your Mehu Maija hot juice extractor machine if you have one. 

 You will end up with a quantity of clear juice for making jelly, which should be sparkling clear

and quite a lot of pulp that can be seived and boiled with sugar to make quince cheese, which the Spanish dry and eat with cheese, apparently. I've never tried it so I will see how it turns out.

I found I had rather a lot of quince cheese, so I tried mixing it with some of my home made mincemeat, and it's quite delicious. It adds a rich flavour and moistness to the mincemeat which I really like. And finally from an idea I saw on Marisa's blog I cooked up some of it with cranberries to make a Cranberry and Quince preserve. I quite enjoy a dollop of Cranberry sauce with a cold turkey sandwich, but the addition of the quince lifts it out of the everyday and into the seasonal luxury, and even though it's a lot of trouble to go to, as they say on the adverts,
You're Worth It

Frosty Mornings

Mo and I were setting off for the morning walk, when I found myself sidetracked into looking at the effects of the overnight frosts. She is used to delays, it happens a lot, for one reason or another, and here she is standing pointedly by the gate, waiting patiently.

 Often it's feeding the chickens, or breaking the ice on the pond, or some little job that presents itself on the way from the back door to the gate.

This frost edged rose looked so pretty

and this verbena bonariensis 

Of course, what I really should be doing (apart from walking the dog) is setting out my winter bedding plants in the pots by the back door.

I should have had this job finished by now, but I find it hard to make time for garden duties at this time of the year, apart from the approach of Christmas, it's pretty damp and chilly all the time, and although I know I will really appreciate a few pots of colourful violas during the winter, I find it a real effort to go out and do it.  But I'm pleased to say James and I made a start yesterday and I intend to finish off later on today. So well done me.

Just a couple more Jack Frost pictures, and then I really will walk the dog. 



The Scotch Egg Society

Every Friday morning, the Ancient Order of Scotch Eggers meets at a secret venue near Bristol,  to celebrate the ancient and apparently secret art of the Scotch Egg. It must be secret because it's almost impossible to buy an edible version of this lovely old fashioned food item, under normal circumstances. Dry, mass produced, and all but inedible to anyone but a starving trucker, the Scotch Egg lines up in the petrol station chill shelf alongside the Cornish Pasty in the roll call of Abused Foods of Britain.  If Scotch Eggs could use a phone they'd be ringing a helpline. But  more cheeringly, the home made Scotch Egg can be a truly delicious and portable delight, and like many other simple foods it's down to the quality and freshness of the ingredients. So once again you have to either do it yourself or know where to go. And if you're a member of the Ancient Order you'll know that the bakers in Westbury-on-Trym who make their own Scotch Eggs will be just putting them out on the counter fresh from the pan at precisely o nine hundred hours and Our Man in Westbury will be dispatched to obtain this week's Friday morning supplies.

 

Scotch Eggs

If you don't live in Westbury-on-Trym you may have to make your own. I know you're thinking, boiled eggs, breadcrumbs, deep frying, takes too long, too much faff for me. But I urge you to have a go. The ones I made took no more than half an hour start to finish. And if you followed my advice last week about  not chucking out your stale crusts of bread, and blitzing them in the processor, you will have a jar of dried crumbs ready to hand anyway.

Fresh medium size free range eggs

2- 3 best quality sausages for each egg

1 egg beaten

Dried breadcrumbs

First put your eggs on to boil, and while they are boiling take your sausages, slit the skins with a sharp knife and remove them.

Press them into a rough ball and flatten out onto a floured surface.

Don't boil the eggs to death, a good five minutes or so should do it, then run them under the cold tap and remove the shells.

Place egg onto sausagemeat and mould around to encase the egg to make a cricket ball sized sphere.

Now dip the ball into beaten egg and coat in breadcrumbs, and deep fry for about five minutes.

And now I suspect you're thinking "but Kathy, I don't have a deep fat fryer, I'm far too health conscious " well neither do I - I just use a small sturdy saucepan with about an inch of oil in the bottom. This means I have to go to the trouble of turning the Scotch Eggs over when one side is done, but I calculate the calories expended in this effort completely offset those incurred by the deep fat frying, so problem solved.

This simple recipe makes an excellent family supper served with salad, leftovers ideal packed lunch. If you want to gild the lily you can use dinky little quail's eggs to make cocktail sized scotch eggs for a party.

Of course, Our Man is also an active member of the British Pickle and  Chutney Appreciation Society, an important sub section of the Ancient Order, who always maintain a selection of appropriate pickle type accompaniments, provided, it's rumoured, by the  chairman's mother. If he should read this he might want to advertise the name of the baker's shop, which eludes me.

Poppy Day

Today is Remembrance Sunday in the UK, or Poppy Day, when red poppies are worn in commemmoration of Armistice Day when peace was declared at the end the First World War, the war to end all wars. I found this touching footage of the Battle of The Somme.





I have no fear nor shrinking. I have seen death so often that it is not strange or fearful to me. I thank God for this ten weeks' quiet. Life has always been hurried and full of difficulty. This time of rest has been a great mercy. They have all been very kind to me here. But this I would say, standing in view of God and eternity, I realise that patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred or bitterness towards anyone.

Last words of Nurse Edith Cavell, shot before a firing squad,  October 1915

Doing Something Useful

I've noticed that I have a tendency to write about useful things you can do with this, that or the other. But sometimes you just don't feel like doing anything very much, so here's a post about not doing anything much. When we went to Surry last week, and collected the acorns I told you about, we also collected these

lovely sweet chestnuts. My husband hails from Surrey and has fond memories of collecting chestnuts as a child. I was quite amazed at how prolific they were - I don't know about other areas of the country, certainly a sweet chestnut in this part of Wiltshire is uncommon, but Surrey is heavily wooded and seems to support the growth of this lovely tree and its equally lovely fruit.  Naturally the nuts you pick in the wild are not so big as the ones in the shops, most of which are imported, in fact I think they are all imported. If you want English ones you have to go and get them. French chestnuts are delicious though. I'm starting to see that the further south you go the better the chestnuts seem to get. Anyway, don't despise the humble english offering, it's fresh, wild and free.

We collected quite a lot in the space of half an hour, and I had intended to do something useful and clever with them. But on Saturday night, it was cold, we lit a fire, David roasted the chestnuts, and we just ate them, What could be nicer than a roaring fire, the Guardian supplement, a glass of something, and a plate of roasted chestnuts.

PS Should you wish to do something more imaginative with chestnuts I can highly recommend Hugh Slightly- Annoying's chocolate chestnut truffle cake recipe

Fashion Extra

An item by Rachel Johnson in Saturday's Guardian about the  latest fashion for city types to dress in "country clothes" made me smile - "It's only the City types who dress up like the royal family at an Edwardian era shooting party" she says.

And my recent encounter with a country estate agent confirms that this is not only a city trait, as I watched him bounce around a nice old Cotswold house in his Barbour and Hunters pointing out the dual aspect fenestration.

Proper country types, says Johnson wear "Dunlop boots lined with acrylic fluff, ancient fleeces, and their grandfather's tweed trousers with a huge rip in the crotch".

So good to know that I'm still the height of sartorial elegance.