The Tale of Five Chickens

Yesterday, I had 3 chickens to give their weekly thorough clean out to and 2 chickens to roast.  Two worlds collided and I blame Doc for this.  He said we had not had chicken for a while.  Organic birds were on Special Offer at the supermarket and why don’t we make Chicken Fricassee for the troops next weekend?  It was a good idea, in theory.  Cooking the chicken in advance, making the stock and freezing it, would save time and dinner could be prepared in a jiffy.  In any case, Doc said, Chicken Fricassee used to be one of our family favourites....

That was until the girls arrived last year.  Since then, eating chicken has a slightly uncomfortable association for me.  It is hard to care for Ginger, Tweedledee and Tweedledum, get to know their individual little personalities and then cook one of their ‘colleagues’ for dinner.

I am not vegetarian - I do like sausages and bacon- but I think I have leanings in that direction.  I don’t like rare meat full stop and would never order a steak.  Having so much produce in the garden also means the veggies have increasingly taken’ centre plate’ and of course, our eggs are simply wonderful.

Anyway, I told myself to get a grip of the two carcasses in front of me on the chopping board.  They were not our birds, they were strangers, with a good provenance and hopefully had lived a contented life. If I was starving, I would be grateful.  We have to get real and connect with our food, from field to plate.

All the same, I was pleased when the preparations for Chicken Fricassee were complete.  I must remember to chop the chicken meat quite small so it does not cause a lump in my throat next weekend.  I will also make plenty of mushroom veloute sauce to go with it.

If...

If I hadn't chosen to shut the chicken coop door at 4.30 pm....if I hadn't noticed a few fallen apples strewn underneath one of the old apple trees in the orchard....if I had chosen to leave them rather than take the trouble to collect them....  and if the half light of dusk had not contributed me to lose my footing and stumble.... then I wouldn't have sat on the bench to rub my ankle...  And I would not have seen and heard it.

It was its large flapping wings than alerted me and I sat bolt upright, daring not to breathe or move as the visitor glided and descended into another of the old apple trees, just a few feet away from my own perch.  I could tell by the silouette and size that it was an owl which was confirmed a few moments later by the familiar hoots.

The owl's haunting calls were duly answered by an owl in a neighbouring garden and precipitated a conversation that lasted several minutes.  I don't know how I managed to stay so still for so long.  Then the owl opened its wings and up and away it flew, across the orchard and out to the valley beyond.

We enjoyed a wonderful weekend with a houseful of family but I felt subdued as I waved the last of the smalls off this morning.  The house was quiet and I felt lonely as I tackled the washing and ironing.  A visit to the dentist contributed to my malaise.  However, I now feel uplifted.  Special moments cannot be planned for or contrived, they just happen.  

Last rasberry day

It may be the day for gunpowder, treason and plot but it is also the day when I picked the very last of the rasps.  Autumn Bliss lives up to its name.

Our canes were here when we moved to Springfield, 8 years ago and they show no signs of weakness.   I chop them down to the ground in February, Doc mulches them with grass clippings, compost, or manure – whatever there is an abundance of – and they get on with it.  Occasionally, we thin out the runners but they don’t seem to mind.  They start fruiting in July and rain or shine, they just get better and better as the season progresses.  We never net them because the birds seem to ignore them.

However, we don’t ignore them and although Doc prefers strawberries, it doesn’t stop him competing with me for the very Last One.  Still, there are bags and bags of them in the freezer and a stack of raspberry jam in the pantry.  The jars sparkle like jewels and it’s like having a treasure trove to keep us going through the winter.

I can hear the bangs and whooshes outside.  I hope the chickens are okay.  They will probably go off lay and there will be rocket sticks to collect in the morning.  I think I will watch Strictly on TV to drown out the noise .  Bah Humbug!

Smug Gardeners and the Perfect Parsnip

There is something very special about digging up the first parsnip of the autumn season and today was FPD (First Parsnip Day).  It is best to start harvesting parsnips after the first frosts because frost converts the starch into sugar to create that wonderful sticky, caramel when you roast them.  So since we have had some mild frosts Doc suggested we do the deed today and he sallied forth with the spade. I stopped tidying up the strawberry plants and looked on expectantly.  At this point we were both excited and anxious because it was way back in April when the seeds were sown.  And until you dig up the first parsnip you don’t know how you’ve done.

And the result?  See for yourself! 

We call it a perfect parsnip:  dead straight with a good weight to it and no blemishes or nibbled bits.  We are roasting it this very hour to eat with a braised lamb shank in red wine, garlic and sprigs of rosemary.  Autumn certainly has its blessings and today is one of them. 

I know we shouldn’t boast but honestly, sometimes we need a decent pat on the back to keep us going.  We are a smug couple and only need one more thing to make the whole day perfect:  A roaring log fire to keep out the chill.  And Doc has already brought in the logs.

Simple pleasures are the best and this is a very good day.

Are you looking forward to scary Monday?

Personally, I could give Hallowe’en, as an event,  a miss.  I am not sure I like the idea of children knocking on strangers’ doors and trick-or-treating and there are enough real-life scary things in this world already.  If you want scary, forget black plastic spiders, come and look at the larger than life tarantulas that lurk in the recesses of our shed.  They move, they are scary.

Anyway, I usually soften up at the sight of jolly jack-o’-lanterns.  Pumpkins have featured large (literally) in our garden for a good few years and we have had a reasonable harvest this year.  They are very easy to grow and much more forgiving of our climate than the elusive Butternut Squash which usually sits and sulks.  We have a designated 2 metre square pumpkin patch because you can grow them in same place year after year, as long as the soil is well manured, composted and kept weed free.  I usually grow two plants (plus a couple of spares), starting them off in pots in the greenhouse and then planting them out when the soil has warmed up.  Cloches also help pumpkins bed in and get going.  They love a bit of warmth.

They need moisture, lots of it and are heavy feeders but basically they get on with it.  They do have a habit of trying to escape but once lots of fruits and flowers are forming, I pinch out the growing tips to keep the plants in check and reduce the foliage so the plants concentrate their energy on bulking up the fruits.  I place old tiles under the pumpkins to keep them dry and when I spot early signs of mildew, I remove the affected leaves.  Usually mildew gathers momentum towards the end of the summer so although the plants look tatty, they are okay really.

The pumpkins must be harvested before the first autumn frosts and I put them on trays in the greenhouse for a couple of weeks to ripen and harden.  I leave a good ‘handle of stalk’ because that is where the rot begins.

This year we had 14 pumpkins to harvest and they were not as large as last year’s crop because of the dry summer.  Nevertheless we have enough pumpkin for us to ponder and scratch our heads.  This is another challenge for the Springfield Food Processing Department.

I have given two of the pumpkins to the boys next door, for their lanterns.  I have made one into soup and there is one with Number One Daughter’s name on it.  I can’t give Number One Son his treasure because none of the airlines will let me take pumpkins on the plane to Northern Ireland.
 
So that leaves me with 10 beauties and they are in boxes in the garage at the moment, waiting for my inspiration (or desperation) to dawn.

Pumpkins have huge potential in the kitchen but they do need a bit of work.  You need gloves on when cutting into the monsters - to avoid a visit to the A & E Department - and the flesh needs flavour adding, usually in the form of spices.  I also roast pumpkin to caramelise the sugars and this really does make a difference.

My recipe of choice is my Spicy Pumpkin Soup, best enjoyed by a log fire or around a roaring bonfire.  You see, I am just an old romantic at heart.  This recipe should serve 4 but it depends how greedy you are.

1 Kg (2.2 lbs) pumpkin
Chilli oil
3 large onions, peeled and chopped
3 cloves of garlic, peeled and chopped
Spices: 3 tsps cumin seeds, 1 tsp coriander seeds, 1 tsp caraway seeds, pinch cayenne pepper, 1 tsp ground ginger.  (Or you could use Garam Masala or curry powder)
Chicken or Vegetable stock
Salt and pepper
Crème Fraiche

Method
Cut the pumpkin into thick wedges and remove the seeds and stringy bits.  Place on a baking sheet and drizzle with chilli oil.  Roast in a hot oven for 50 minutes to 1 hour until tender and brown at the edges.  Peel the skin from the flesh and discard.

Grind the cumin, coriander and caraway seeds in a pestle and mortar.  In a heavy flameproof pot, sauté the onions and garlic in a splash of chilli oil and add the ground spices, cayenne and ground ginger.

Add the pumpkin flesh and barely cover with stock.  Simmer for about 15 minutes so all the ingredients can get to know one another. Liquidise the soup to a smooth texture, adding more stock if necessary.  Season to taste.  Serve with crème fraiche swirled on the top.  It freezes well too.

This soup can be quite fiery so add fewer spices if you wish.

Hope you like this photo.  This is Number One Daughter’s carving masterpieces.  I know I am biased but I think they are really good.  She is a florist and they form part of Arcade Flowers (Ringwood, near Bournemouth) autumn window display.  I think I maybe a Halloween convert after all. 

I said that I liked her carvings so much that I would like one of the Taj Mahal, please.  Because she is a loving, clever and dutiful daughter, she has delivered!  Here it is:

Back at last

It takes a lot to keep me out of the garden but a nasty abscess on a tooth, a pile of medications and then the inevitable extraction, kept me in the house for a week.  I only ventured down to the patch for a bit of a potter about last weekend.  It felt good to be outside at last but I was pleased we were well ahead with the autumn clear up.  My energy levels have suffered.

Still, there was hope alive in the greenhouse with the remaining two cucumber plants still producing cucumbers and new flowers.  This is amazing for the end of October.  The basil is looking a little pale and stressed (a bit like me) but is still in leaf and parsley was a cheery sight.  I had previously sowed some winter lettuce and they are up and about and getting on with things.

The gold, deep purple and white pansies I bought as plugs in September were ready to be potted up and I managed half an hour to sort them out.  They are producing lovely flowers and the colour combination is uplifting.

Doc turned the compost and we topped it off with the spent courgette plants, thanking them for their hard work.  We griddled the last of the courgettes on Sunday which was a bit sad but we try to look forward to next year’s crop.  Doc treated several of the now vacant raised beds with some of his crumbly, mature compost which he sieves to a fine finish.  It is all the richer for the chicken manure we add to it.  The remaining bins are doing well and feel warm to the touch which is a good sign.

Doc started a major overhaul of the bonfire site at the bottom of the garden.  Over the last 8 years, the ash has raised it up to quite a mound so he dug it out, sieved the ash with soil and created a new heap to use on the flower beds.  We will soon have a level bonfire site again.

The garlic, shallots and onion sets are all up and about so we took the fleece off.  It really does keep out the mice and birds so the sets can root.  The leeks and parsnips are ready to start harvesting and we still have spinach and chard, purple sprouting broccoli and lettuces.  But the most surprising latecomers are the everlasting strawberries which are truly everlasting.  They are still providing us with enough fruit to chop and add to the porridge.  ‘Flamenco’ can be described as a Good Doer.

I dared to bend down and pick a few windfall apples and headed back to the kitchen to be creative with them.  I made a lovely apple pudding cake with them and it felt good to be doing something.  There is nothing as satisfying as the warmth of the Aga and the smell of baking.  It was good therapy.

This recipe is not mine, it is from Mary Berry.  She is the Queen of baking as far as I am concerned and this recipe is easy and reliable.

Wonderful Apple Cake (serves 6)

225 g (8 ozs) self-raising flour
1 level tsp baking powder
225 g (8 ozs) caster sugar
2 eggs
½ tsp almond extract
150 g butter (5 ozs) butter, melted
350 g (12 ozs) peeled, cored and thickly sliced
25 g (1 oz) flaked almonds

Method

Lightly grease a deep 20 cm (8 inch) cake tin.  Put the flour, baking powder, sugar, eggs, almond extract and melted butter into a mixing bowl and beat for 1 minute.
Spread half this mixture into the base of the tin and pile the apples on top, mostly towards the centre.  Using 2 dessert spoons, spoon the rest of the cake mixture over the apples.  This is awkward but you need to make sure the mixture covers as much of the apple as possible.  Sprinkle with the almonds.

Using the Aga:  Position the grid shelf on the floor of the Roasting Oven and the cold Plain Shelf on the second set of runners.  Bake the cake for 20 minutes until pale golden brown.  Transfer the cold Plain Shelf (which is now very hot!) to the middle of the simmering oven and place the cake on it.  Continue baking the cake for a further 30-40 minutes or until a skewer inserted into the middle, comes out clean.  Alternatively, if you have a Baking Oven in your Aga, bake the cake on the lowest set of runners for about 1 ¼ hours until a skewer comes out clean.  If the top browns too quickly, place the cold Plain Shelf above the cake.

Using conventional cooking: Bake in a pre-heated oven 160 C, 325 F or Gas mark 3 for 1 ½ hours or until a skewer comes out clean.

You can freeze this cake but you will want to eat it there and then, just as it comes out of the oven.  Make sure you have cream or custard ready and waiting.

Autumn is really here when I make this cake and we love it.  Thank you, Mary.
(Recipe taken from Mary Berry’s New Aga Cookbook, Headline Book Publishing)