This guy has been hanging out in our yard lately (it helps that we give him millet and seeds whenever he’s around). It’s like having a pet, with no cleanup or responsibility.
Archive for the 'Country Life' Category
Crossposted to SmarterFitter.com
If you’ve been keeping up with this blog, then you know I’ve been increasingly obsessed with the idea of “living off the land.” One of the best places I’ve found to forage for free food is in the hedgerows, particularly those lining the fields behind our cottage.
My American friends might be wondering - what the eff is a hedgerow? A hedge or hedgerow is a line of closely spaced shrubs and tree species, planted in such a way as to form a barrier or to mark the boundary of an area. According to Wikipedia, many English hedgerows are estimated to have been in existence for more than seven hundred years, originating in the medieval period.
As it turns out, many of the shrubs, trees and bushes used to create hedgerows bear edible fruit. For example, our nearby hedges have offered blackberries, nettles, rosehips, hawthorn berries, crab apples and sloes. And I’ve heard rumors of sweet chestnuts, hazelnuts, damson plums, gooseberries and wild garlic lurking in hedges I haven’t yet discovered.
Let’s be honest: I probably wouldn’t go out of my way to actually buy sloes and crab apples, but since they’re available, I feel compelled to use of them. Sloe berries are similar to small plums, but are a too tart and astringent for eating. Crab apples are also not exactly munching food. But boil the two together with a bunch of sugar and leave to mature for a couple weeks and something quite magical happens. The sloes’ astringency subsides and their plummy flavor really comes through. The seeds in the crab apple act as a natural pectin, which gels the mixture into a nice, deep purple jelly that goes particularly well with blue cheese, as well as almond butter and (I’m guessing) regular butter, too.
I used Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s template for hedgerow jelly, which can also be made with rowan berries, rosehips, haws or a mixture. Making hedgerow jelly isn’t a quick process. It takes time to pick the sloes and the crab apples, and anyone who’s made jam or jelly knows that it’s a slightly delicate affair involving things like jelly bags and sterile jars. But it’s all time well spent, and rewarding too: collecting food from nature and turning it into something extremely delicious, experiencing the whole process of food creation from start to finish.
Sloe and Crab Apple Hedgerow Jelly
Adapted from Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s crab apple and rowan jelly.
Around 1kg sloes
Around 1kg crab apples
At least 1.5kg granulated sugar
Jelly bag (or a clean cotton cloth and a big sieve)
Around 1kg crab apples
At least 1.5kg granulated sugar
Jelly bag (or a clean cotton cloth and a big sieve)
Wash the sloes and crab apples. Cut the crab apples in half, but leave in the cores - they contribute lots of pectin, which helps set the jelly.
Put all the fruit into a large, heavy pan, along with enough water (at least 500ml) to come about halfway up the fruit. Bring to the boil and simmer, stirring occasionally and crushing the fruit against the side of the pan, until the whole mass is soft and pulpy. Tip the mixture into a jelly bag (or a large sieve lined with a cotton cloth) suspended over a bowl, and leave to drain. If you want a clear jelly, just let the liquid drip through, but if you want to get the maximum yield and don’t mind if your jelly is a little cloudy, squeeze the pulp to extract every last drop of juice.
Measure the juice, then transfer it to a clean pan and add 750g sugar for every litre of juice. Stir over a low heat until the sugar has dissolved, then boil rapidly, skimming off any scum that might rise to the surface, until you reach setting point - you can measure this with a sugar thermometer: it’s 106C. Alternatively, after about 10 minutes of hard boiling, take the pan off the heat and drop a teaspoon of the jelly on to a cold saucer, put this in the fridge for a couple of minutes, then push your finger through the jelly. If the surface wrinkles, your jelly is ready. If not, boil for five minutes longer, then repeat the test.
As soon as setting point is reached, remove the pan from the heat and pour the jelly into warm, sterilised jars. Cover with a disc of waxed paper, then a lid. Leave for a few weeks to mature before eating. The jelly should keep for up to a year.
Yesterday morning, Mike joined me on my first mushroom foray with the Cotswold Fungus Group. My god, I have a lot to learn about fungus. But what a great time. I met some great “local people” and moreover and learned a ton (most of which I forgot, but what a good excuse to do it again, and this time with a notebook!).
Dave, the guy running the show, works for the Wiltshire Wildlife Trust to identify mushrooms growing on their protected land (Ravensroost Wood, in this case). Dave knows his fungi, from Latin names to funny stories like that of the black bulbous Daldinia Concentrica, aka King Alfred’s Cakes. The name comes from a legend that King Alfred burnt some old lady’s cakes while hiding out from the Danes in Somerset. These stories are far easier to remember than the Latin names, though I suppose you get better at that with practice.
Speaking of Latin names, Mike and I vowed to memorize at least one from our bucket of finds (by the way, real mushroom hunters carry cheesy wicker baskets rather than plastic buckets). We settled on Lepista Nuda, aka Wood Blewit, an edible mushroom which Dave claims is “the reason why God invented streaky bacon” (I think he meant that streaky bacon is the reason why God invented the Blewit, but nevermind).
Aside from mushrooms, it was really fun meeting some real English country folk, who were a lot less “country” than I expected. In fact, everyone was really nice and their enthusiasm about fungi was contagious. I often stereotype English people as being too polite and unimpressed, but these people were the complete opposite. I guess they were all just geeks like me.
A few of the mushrooms we found were edible, including puffballs, blewits and one baby oyster mushroom (and supposedly a “goblet” mushroom, but we were dubious on that one). We cooked the ones we were sure about in some olive oil with salt and pepper and had them with a bit of balsamic and Mike’s fresh bread. They were delicious, especially the puffballs and the oyster, and made extra tasty knowing that their edibility was confirmed by an expert.
You can see more photos here: Mushroom Hunting on Flickr.
Otherwise known as Hygrocybe niveus, this slimy, cream-colored ’shroom was found in one of the fields of Lower Moor Farm. In fact, the whole field was covered with these little guys.
I’m not 100% sure it’s a snowy waxcap, but its appearance agrees with images found in other guides, including Rogers Mushrooms and MushroomExpert.com.
The land conditions also fit. Lower Moor Farm is a bit of lowland grass pasture owned by the Wiltshire Wildlife Trust. According to the National Trust, waxcaps love “permanent grasslands such as sheep grazed uplands and lawns.”
These long established, and sometimes ancient, grasslands are uncommon, many of which have been lost over the last 50 years. As a result, waxcaps have been in decline across Europe since the late 1940s.
They are apparently edible, but not terribly flavorsome.
Crossposted to SmarterFitter.com
I went for a bike ride this morning to the Duchy Home Farm Organic “Veg Shed” and couldn’t resist this mammoth savoy cabbage. Fairly surprised it survived the nine mile journey back home.
Next time: bring a bigger backpack.
Crossposted to SmarterFitter.com
Tim and I were out for a walk yesterday one Lower Moor Farm when we stumbled upon an enticing little cluster of big white mushrooms. I picked a few and, after a bit of internet research and some reassurance from my neighbor, I determined that they were field mushrooms and thus, quite edible. That evening, I turned my small harvest into a tasty mushroom pizza.
Good news - I’m still alive!
I’m not only alive, but I’m totally hooked on this mushroom gathering business.
I just filled in my membership form for the Cotswold Fungus Group and look forward to following in the footsteps of my new hero, John Wright, semi-resident forager of River Cottage.
Consequentially, I just received a new book that should help me in my free food pursuits: Food for Free
After weeks of amazing sunrises, I finally decided to pull out the camera at sunset. I can’t decide which takes better photos - the Canon Rebel digital SLR or the Panasonic Lumix DMC-LX3 point and shoot. Can you tell the difference? Which do you prefer?
We’ve been graced with some beautiful clear mornings lately. This mist over the fields at sunrise is a sight to behold!
Mike is visiting for the weekend and we spent part of the afternoon down at Lower Moor Farm picking sloes to make sloe gin. The collection process was semi-arduous, as was pricking the individual sloe berries with a bramble thorn before adding them to gin. Neither of us really like gin, but somehow we couldn’t pass up this opportunity to take advantage of all these sloes. I think it’s more about living off the land than drinking gin. Not that sloe gin is required to sustain life, but it might be a nice way to coast through the cold English winters (that’s how long it will take for the sloes to dissolve into the gin and make it yummy enough to drink).
After a close call with my cilantro plant, the little beast is now thriving thanks to Tim’s TLC while I was away in Chicago. Its success has inspired me to expand my herb collection to mint, parsley, chives and basil. I want to be a good gardener, but I’ve gotta take it slowly. One small success at a time.
I’ve been enjoying learning a bit about herbs and pot plants. For example, mint tends to take over a garden and can choke neighboring plants. So I gave it its own pot with plenty of room to expand (tabbouleh and tea, here I come!).
These two links were helpful:
How to Grow a Herb Garden in a Pot
Companion Planting
Soon I think I’ll have to expand my cilantro crop. What with all the guacamole and Indian food I eat, this little guy just isn’t going to cut it (but he sure looks good!):
Latest Comments