EASY LIKE...

SUNDAY MORNING. 6TH DECEMBER.


9.30 am.
Two eyes closed.

Two hands reach for the window.

One curtain drawn.

9.31 am. One and a half eyes open.

First lie in for weeks and am jolly well going to milk it for all it's worth. Here I lie, conciously still so not to move position from the warm me-shaped mold in bed.

9.35 am. Roll out, and creep downstairs with bed hair and twisted pijamas, for a hot cup of Earl Grey. Kettle boils. Water in large mug, tea bag in, tea bag out, drop of milk, mug in hand.
Back up I go and crawl into the already cooled bed sheets.

9. 45 am. Flick to find last read page of After The Fire, A Still Small Voice by Evie Wyld. Page 99, Chapter 6.

10.15 am.

Lisa calls to check what time we are heading to Leeds Farmers Market. 9.00 - 14.00. Arrange to meet at midday. Page 114. Chapter 8. Time to think about emerging from the lair.

10.30 am. Wake flatmate up. Feeding time.

I'll be damned if I poached eggs and marmite aren't included in this morning's non-activity.

HEAT UP PAN OF BOILING WATER.
ADD A SPLASH OF WHITE WINE VINEGAR
SPIN UP WATER WITH SPOON FOR WHIRLPOOL EFFECT
SLOWLY DROP IN FREE RANGE EGG
POP TOAST IN
WAIT 3 MINS TIL WHITE HAS FIRMED AROUND YOLK
BUTTER AND MARMITE THE TOAST
PLACE EGG ON TOP
SPRINKLE OF SALT AND PEPPER

Sunday Times essential - if not only to look at the pictures.

12.00 am.
This little piggy goes to market...
Walk down into town to make the most of the reluctant splashes of blue sky between Northern grey cloud blanket. Sun out, steamy breath, cold nose.

12.30 am. Arrival at the Farmers Market after hurling self at Christmas shoppers.

Taste this, taste that,

taste this,


gobble that.

Lancashire Haggis?
Whitby Crab?
Yorkshire Rye?

1.00 pm. £2.50 LINCOLNSHIRE RED BEEF BURGER in fresh white bread.

"E'S GOOD AT T'GAB INT'E THAT ONE"

90% locally reared BEEF
4% RUSK (breadcrumbs)
SEASONING

EAT.

1.30pm.Carol Singing.

Waddle home.

Hot Chocolate and Film with Ski Socks and Woolly Hats.

No food for a month. Well...maybe until Supper...

Gotta love Christmas.

Souper Supper

Firstly, a massive thank you to those who racked their brains for Last Supper suggestions. You all really know how to make me ravenous!

I have picked out a delicious 3 course meal from your ideas (open to debate if any more come along) but I am not going to give anything away just yet. Only when I have all the ingredients together, will I let slip what will be sizzling away in my oven...

Due to Mattie's 'Season is all' comment, I have chosen a menu which satisfies the Winter taste buds - something wholesome and warming as the months begin to freeze up...But enough with that - I've said too much already!

This week's blog is dedicated to my own last supper starter, but instead of a taster for meals to follow, I intend it to be a Sunday-Night-Supper, or the perfect Autumn/Winter lunch.
The recipe is taken from the Real Island Food Company - a fantastically friendly duo, Jackie and Rachel, who deliver to-the-door fresh goodies from local producers on the Isle of Wight.*


This recipe is SO delicious and unbelievably good comfort food. We added scrumptious Oak Roasted Tomatoes from The Tomato Stall, which give it an added smoky flavour to complement the nutty sweetness of the butternut squash - along with a hunk of still warm toasted soda bread.

You must must must try it!

Roast Tomato and Butternut Soup

Creamy, full of flavour and very warming - this seasonal soup is perfect to serve at a Bonfire party, or team it up with a Graces Bakery French stick and you've got a great lunch!

1 kilo of ripe Isle of Wight tomatoes (Cherry toms have the best flavour)
1 medium Butternut squash from Ben Browns farm in the Arreton Valley
2 cloves Isle of Wight (The Garlic Farm ) garlic
fresh thyme leaves
300 ml Coppid Hall farm double cream
300 ml good quality vegetable stock (water will be fine too)
1 tsp Demerara sugar
freshly ground sea salt and pepper
olive oil

Preheat oven to 170 degrees C.

Place the tomatoes on a roasting tray and drizzle with olive oil, season well with salt and pepper. Roughly chop the peeled garlic cloves and mix in with the tomatoes. Roast in the oven for 20 – 30 minutes until softened and starting to colour (20 – 30 minutes)

Peel the Butternut, and cut into chunks. Place on a roasting tray and season with salt and pepper. Sprinkle with thyme leaves. Roast in the oven until soft and easy to squash with a fork. (approx 30 mins)

When cooked, place the tomatoes and Butternut in a large saucepan. Add the water or stock and sugar and bring to a simmer. Simmer gently for 5 mins. Using a hand held blender, liquidise until smooth (until you can’t see or taste any tomato skin in the liquid). Add the cream, season to taste and warm through for serving.

Enjoy with a chunk of fresh bread and butter.

A real winner! INDULLLLGE.

* delivery on hampers and gifts is now available off the Isle, so check out www.islandfoodandgifts.co.uk to get your hands on some delicious real island food! I HIGHLY recommend...

THE LAST SUPPER

I'm sitting at the head of a table. Around me are 7 other chairs, (I'd prefer to provide for 8 than 13), and I'm holding the perfect dinner party for those whom I would most like to cook for.

THE GUESTS

On my left we have Nigel Slater - my all time food hero. And on the other side, constantly topping up my glass, the legendary Keith Floyd. I think two chefs are quite enough - too many cooks spoil the broth and all that. If criticism were needed, then Giles Coren may come, but he'd have a place at the other end of the table, so I could see his mouth moving but hear nothing come out.

See no evil, Hear no evil, Speak no evil.

For the wit we'd have Bill Bailey. I think he'd eat what I put in front of him without fuss and we all need a good laugh.
Funnily enough, I was flicking through the November's Observer Food Monthly and who was writing about their last supper but none other than the drop dead gorgeous, ex-Blur guitarist, cheese-maker extraordinaire, Alex James. As I came across the words that read something like, 'I crave anything that costs less than three pounds', there was no doubt in my mind that A.J would almost certainly have to sit at the Rose Cottage table, and woo me with his curdles and whey.
So, there's the cheap date sorted...now for the serenade. Why not! We'll have Seasick Steve, for some post-dinner jigging.

I seem to have omitted the female sex apart from myself and there must be eight at the table. So, Judi Dench, please. There. That's that. 8 WONDERFUL GUESTS TO JOIN ME FOR DINNER!

Now for:

THE FOOD

I certainly have a few of my own ideas

...butternut squash and oak roasted tomato soup with soda bread...fresh ravioli stuffed with walnut and ricotta, drizzled in butter...ginger ice cream with bitter chocolate sauce...

But I need more inspiration...

I would like all those in favour to raise your spoons and answer me this:

'What would be your last supper?'

I will then endeavour to cook a starter and main, and perhaps pudding from my favourite suggestions and blog them. Please write your thoughts on the Rose Cottage Blog Facebook Group or down below so I can start choosing!

THE STORY OF THE UNDERCOOKED HOTPOT

One of life's most awkward moments: Your mouth is full, you are really trying to enjoy what's in there, but with every forced bite, the expression on your face is telling too much; there is no more time for petty white lies:

Here tells the story of my latest experiment.
My first attempt at a Lancashire hotpot didn't go quite the way I wanted it to.
To say the least...


Well, let's just say I feel sorry for the friend I fed it to! The problem certainly had nothing to do with the recipe. In fact, I was very lucky to get my hands on such an authentic one. It was more to do with the way it was cooked! As a proud cook always says, 'It wasn't me, it was the ingredients...'

The true cause of the disaster was, in fact, time. Another excuse but undeniably true. A hotpot should be slaved over, loving waited for, and welcomingly eaten.

An impatient chef is no friend to this dear dish.

I wouldn't dare go into details but I would like to apologise to Mrs. Bamford, for putting her recipe to shame. I will try again...and again...and again, until the meat falls apart at the smallest chew, the vegetables are juicy and the sauce is thick and scrumptious.

By putting this recipe up here, I ask those who will cook it to do it the justice it deserves.

MRS BAMFORD'S LANCASHIRE HOTPOT.

Serves 6:
400g beef or lamb, stewing meat.
3 carrots,
3 large potatoes,
2 brown onions,
beef stock (1 or 2 cubes or 50ml fresh stock)
Shortcrust pastry.

Slowly cook the stewing meat at 160 degrees C for 2 hrs with stock and 3 tablespoons of water.
Roughly chop carrot, onion and potatoes and when the meat is done, repeatedly layer the vegetables and meat, finishing with the potatoes in deep, heavy based dish. Add more water if you think it is needed and season well. Cook for 1 hr at a medium heat with the lid on.
After an hour, check the moisture, and add a little more stock if needed. Another hour with the lid on.
Add the pastry and cook for a further 15 minutes. And Voila! You should have in front of you what should be deliciously warming Lancashire hotpot - unless your face has already given the game away...

EY UP. PUT T'KETTLE ON LOVE.

AT LAST. Internet, after many an hour talking to the-people-who-know-best, is connected! This is a pathetic excuse for my inactivity over the last few weeks (although it does help), but just because I haven't blogged it doesn't mean I haven't cooked it.

Getting back into the swing of moving into a new house, spending life in the library again and realising there is no food in the fridge is slowly but surely getting back to some state of normality. Summer has flown, gardens are nowhere in sight and the nearest I've been to cultivation is by way of a 'grow your own basil from an egg' plant on my windowsill...four shoots so far. Every little helps.


This season I will be bringing you flavours of the North, experimenting with hot-pots and parkins; I will be preparing for the winter with warming and sustainable foods to defrost blue noses and keep the stomach rumbling at bay; and finding ways to make food last longer...

Before any of this happens though, I would like to bring on the term with the perfect housewarming gift: my favourite cupcake, the RED VELVET, courtesy of The Hummingbird Bakery Cookbook. My home baking has never tasted so good!



RED VELVET cupcakes

Makes 12
60 g unsalted butter, at room temperature
150 g caster sugar
1 egg
10 g cocoa powder
20 ml red food colouring (preferably Dr. Oetker Red Food Colouring)
1⁄2 teaspoon vanilla extract
120 ml buttermilk
150 g plain flour
1⁄2 teaspoon salt
1⁄2 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
11⁄2 teaspoons white wine vinegar
1 quantity Cream Cheese Frosting*
(300g icing sugar, sifted; 50g unsalted butter, soft; 125g cream cheese, cold. MIX)
a 12-hole cupcake tray, lined with paper cases

Preheat the oven to 170°C (325°F) Gas 3.

Put the butter and the sugar in a freestanding electric mixer with a paddle attachment (or use a handheld electric whisk) and beat on medium speed until light and fluffy and well mixed. Turn the mixer up to high speed, slowly add the egg and beat until everything is well incorporated.
In a separate bowl, mix together the cocoa powder, red food colouring and vanilla extract to make a thick, dark paste. Add to the butter mixture and mix thoroughly until evenly combined and coloured (scrape any unmixed ingredients from the side of the bowl with a rubber spatula). Turn the mixer down to slow speed and slowly pour in half the buttermilk. Beat until well mixed, then add half the flour, and beat until everything is well incorporated. Repeat this process until all the buttermilk and flour have been added. Scrape down the side of the bowl again. Turn the mixer up to high speed and beat until you have a smooth, even mixture. Turn the mixer down to low speed and add the salt, bicarbonate of soda and vinegar. Beat until well mixed, then turn up the speed again and beat for a couple more minutes.


Spoon the mixture into the paper cases until two-thirds full and bake in the preheated oven for 20–25 minutes, or until the sponge bounces back when touched. A skewer inserted in the centre should come out clean. Leave the cupcakes to cool slightly in the tray before turning out onto a wire cooling rack to cool completely.
When the cupcakes are cold, spoon the Cream Cheese Frosting on top.

This recipe comes from the brilliant book, The Hummingbird Bakery Cookbook by Tarek Malouf.

Or check out their website at http://hummingbirdbakery.com/flash.html to order cakes for delivery if making them yourself seems just too much...

PUFF THE MAGIC MUSHROOM

Recovery time.

Bestival is over and I am catching up on much needed sleep in a big bed with duvet and mattress, a far cry from achy backs in the morning, no-pillow-neck-crunch and grass in the sleeping bag.

This time of year is perfect for body and mind rehabilitation. Shuffling about with half open eyes suits the autumn light; each day lived through the lens of a Polaroid camera with warm orange light and slightly blurred edges. It all brings back a comforting nostalgia of bonfire smoke, apple crumble in the oven, feet by the fire and walks in a warm wind. This year's forecast has hit the
nail on the head for encouraging that oh-so-sickly word 'cosy' to stream back into our vocabulary.

Today has been one of those 'cosy' days. A warming Mumsoup, with hot bread and cheese for lunch, followed by a walk in the fields at a leisurely pace, stealing berries from bushes and no doubt, this evening lighting the fire whilst tucking into one of Monty Don's garden recipes. It has reached the season when it is considered perfectly OK to stock up on fuel for the winter; baggy clothes and big jumpers hiding the extra insulation you have worked so hard to build up in preparation for Arctic winds and sideways snow. Well almost...

Perhaps I am making up too much for the glut of my next recipe. But it is only right to be indulgent when you discover two ginormous Puff Balls beneath your feet, eager to be plucked from the grass and appreciated for all that they are. The Giant Puff Ball, otherwise known as Langermannia gigantea, is a rare and underestimated beauty which, unknown to many, can be delicious fried up in a saucepan with garlic and cream and parsley. With it's strange shape, white flesh, stiff skin and spongy texture, it looks less like a member of the mushroom family and more like a ball of freshly formed mozzarella.





Bizarre fruits of the earth, but these ring all bells. Serve on its own, with a fry up or throw chopped puff ball into risotto for a delicate version of risotto ai funghi.


In this instance, I am going to show them at their most simple.

Fried Puff Ball with bacon, garlic and cream.
SERVES 2-3
400g puff ball, freshly picked, roughly chopped (This may seem like a large amount but it shrinks massively)
25g butter
2 rashers of smoked bacon. roughly chopped

1 clove of garlic, crushed
40ml double cream

Melt the butter in a saucepan over a medium heat. Add the chopped bacon and fry until brown. Throw in the chopped puff ball and keep stirring it so that it turns a golden brown colour. Add more butter if necessary, but the puff ball will become moist the more it is fried. Add the garlic and stir in.
This tastes fantastic just as it is without the cream, and I would recommend to keep it like this if serving it with a fry up. If the cream appeals to you, then let the mixture cool slightly before pouring it in. The cream will turn slightly brown because of the butter, but this adds to the earthiness of the recipe, I think.

Mouthwateringly good! Savour this, it may be the only one you find.
Now it is back up North for me. Back to baked beans and regular mushrooms.
Perhaps the Yorkshire Dales will surprise me with a treat or two to jazz up old leftovers?

BRAMBLES AND BLACKBERRIES

Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a juicy glossy clot
among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate the first one and the flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam pots,
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.

This extract from 'Blackberry Picking' by the Irish poet, Seamus Heaney, for me sums up the last weeks in August with every single word. Whether laden with empty bowls waiting to be filled, heading out on a "can't-come-home-until-we-fill-to-the-top" mission, or stopping at every bush, slowing the power walking down, resulting in bored and frustrated dogs.

There are endless opportunities for this bountiful berry. Jam. Pie. Crumble. Fool. Compote. Sprinkled on Yogurt. Summer pudding. But there is one new discovery for me that tops it off and hits the spot: a recipe found in the August 2009 edition of Waitrose Food Illustrated, slightly altered and loved loved loved by my niece and nephew.

The original recipe by Mark Price uses ripe plums, at their best at this time of year. Thanks to our garden, we had these too - and used them for a tangy alternative to the sweet blackberries.



Blackberry and Yogurt muffins.

Makes 30 mini muffins or 15 large ones
Prep: 15 minutes
Cook: 25 minutes

115g Unsalted butter
300g Self-raising flour
1/2 tsp Bicarbonate of soda
1/4 tsp Salt
250g Caster sugar
250ml Natural Yogurt
2 Eggs
200g freshly picked Blackberries
(for plum recipe:
300g chopped plums
3/4 Ground ginger
2 stem ginger balls, finely chopped)

Preheat the oven to 190 degrees C. If you are making mini muffins, use the non stick plastic cases, laid out on a baking tray, which work brilliantly. If making large, line a baking tray with muffin cases, or for a beautiful rustic look, adopt Waitrose's idea of using squares of baking paper (tying them round the middle with string at the end - it looks fantastic).

In a saucepan, gently melt the butter; set aside to cool slightly.

Sift the flour, bicarbonate of soda, (ground ginger) and salt into a large mixing bowl. Add the sugar, mix thoroughly and make a well in the centre.

Add the yogurt, eggs (and ginger) to the pan of butter and whisk together.

Pour half the mixture into the dry ingredients: combine quickly using a wooden spoon. before mixing in the rest, add 150g blackberries. Don't over mix - any lumps will keep the muffins light.
Spoon into the muffin cases and top with the remaining blackberries.

Bake for 20-25 minutes, until golden brown and risen. cool in the tins/ cases for a few minutes before transferring to a wire rack.

Delicious!

CREDITS:


Extract from 'Blackberry Picking' by poet, Seamus Heaney. The whole poem can be found in Opened Ground: Selected Poems 1966-1996


Original 'Spiced plum and yogurt muffins' recipe by Mark Price, taken from Waitrose Food Illustrated, Page 74. August issue 2009

INTERESTING FATHER FACT OF THE DAY:

There are now 88 species of bramble growing on the Isle of Wight.

Thank goodness for that!