FOLLOWING INSTRUCTIONS

 

I am not renowned for my willingness, or ability, to follow instructions. In the case of the ‘how to’ manuals, as thick as a book, that seem to accompany any type of appliance these days my excuse is that, as a baby boomer, I was born at a time when all we had to do was locate the on/off, hot/cold switch. Whilst the vast majority of the population seems to welcome the invention of the next new ‘all singing all dancing’ must-have gadget, and relish poring over every detail (once they have found it in English) of its operation, I yearn for simplicity. But I digress.  

Confined to barracks for the duration, I have succumbed to watching trash TV. Given that I have been immersed up to my neck in the hospitality business for over 30 years, I am especially interested in programmes relating to food. 

Recently, it seems as if whole brigades of chefs with flagging careers, obviously with brilliant agents, have jumped on the bandwagon of any programme that will increase their exposure and remind us that they are still knocking around. 

Whatever one’s opinion of national treasures Delia Smith and Mary Berry, when they first hit our screens in the 1970s their ability to communicate methodology and timings to the ordinary cook have been unrivalled. Whether it is boiling an egg or making a cake, their recipes are pretty much fool proof. I have never attempted any of their offerings without success, winning many a local village baking competition with the results. 

By contrast, the sex appeal of Nigella and her way of throwing things together to make cosy, inviting supper dishes, a prelude to more intimate activity later perhaps, has its own special appeal, inspiring us all to have a go. Meanwhile, Jamie’s meals in under 30 mins., have come in for ample criticism, much of it well deserved.    

Certainly, when it comes to cooking and baking, whether it be pastry, cakes, bread, soufflés or a roast joint, timing, temperature, and the balance of ingredients can make all the difference between success and failure. This is why we have cookery books and recipes; precisely so that we can follow the instructions and then, having created the most heavenly chocolate cake (I won a prize with Mary’s recipe), we can then take what we have learnt and improvise a little. 

My current gripe is with the number of celebrity chefs appearing on TV demonstrating how to cook their favourite dishes. They may well be able to gain Michelin stars for their whizz-bang techniques and use of ingredients and equipment that most people do not have access to, but what really riles me is their lack of ability in putting across the necessary information to ensure a credible result for the rest of us. The cynic in me thinks that this could be deliberate, in as much as they do not actually want the rest of us to be privy to their secrets. 

When demonstrating how to make a dish, the very least that could be done is to give accurate guidance as to ingredients, their method of preparation, cooking temperatures, timings, and, last but not least, the size of cooking vessel. An experienced cook knows the importance of all of these elements in creating successful, awe inspiring meals, but the novice, with high aspirations and few skills or access to specialist equipment is doomed to failure.  

I may not like reading user manuals, but years of hotel and restaurant inspecting has given me an eagle eye for detail. All too often what TV chefs say and tell us to do does not correspond to what ends up on the plate. Naturally, once we are treated to the ‘here’s one I made earlier’ scenario, and the food stylists have had their hands all over it, ensuring that it looks as pretty as a picture, what we see very rarely resembles the real thing; the dish we are eager to reproduce in a fit of enthusiasm. I can spot such tricksters a mile off, and in the wake of my observations, any respect I may have had for them previously soon evaporates. No wonder home cooks often feel inadequate. Time to send for a take-away.  

Enid Blyton and ginger beer – Linda Vijey revisits her childhood

 

Article on Sedgemoor Apple....March 25, 2021

ONCE spring arrives, I start to think of picnics. Once the Easter holidays arrive, we should all be in a position to meet up in small groups outside, although a quick peek at the weather forecast does not look promising; I am always surprised at how often we get snow at Easter. 

However, I have been spending my time during lockdown reading books, lots of them, and have been re-living my childhood through the likes of Enid Blyton’s ‘Famous Five’.

Written during post-war austerity, her books are full of picnics, simple but delicious nonetheless; cold ham, crusty bread, hard-boiled eggs, cucumber sandwiches, and of course, ginger beer.

The origins of ginger beer go back to the colonial spice trade, using spices from the East and sugar cane from the Caribbean. A naturally fermented product, ginger beer originally contained up to 11%abv., until the 1855 excise tax laws.

Here are some favourite brands on offer, which are vegan friendly and gluten free.

Breckland Orchard Ginger Beer with chilli – £1.60 (275ml.)

This family-owned business produces a subtly spicy, classic ginger beer, with a peppery punch delivered by the chilli.

Cawston Press Ginger Beer – £1.40 (330ml.)

A cloudy ginger beer, mixed with apple juice, giving a mellowing effect on the ginger, adding clean, sharp acidity.

Belvoir Organic Ginger Beer – £2.56 (750ml.)

Another cloudy version, less fizzy than some, with forward citrus and herbal notes layered with warming ginger spices.

Dalston’s Ginger Beer – £1 (330ml.)

The initial citrus and a slight bitterness from the lime gives way to an intense ginger spiciness.

Luscombe Hot Ginger Beer – £1.45 (270ml.)

The ginger hit in this is intense and long lasting, complementing the initial twang of orange peel and lemon citrus.

Franklin & Sons Ginger Beer – £2.69 (750ml.)

Originally a Victorian family business, their ginger is fermented with malted barley for five days, halting the process before the sugar turns to alcohol. With a distinct brown bread smell, the barley flavours are quite prominent.

Fever Tree Ginger Beer – £1.19 (200ml.)

A well-balanced beverage with a fragrant aroma and warming spices.

Old Jamaica Ginger Beer – 40p (330ml.)

Shamelessly sweet and fizzy, with a long, spicy finish.

Fentimann’s Ginger Beer – £1.25 (275ml.)

A traditional botanical drink with fermented herbal extracts. Fiery and packed full of flavour.

 

Home Made

Many of the available ‘branded’ ginger beers are too sweet for me, but old-fashioned homemade ginger beer is inexpensive and easy to make, taking just 3 days from start to finish. The yeast consumes the sugar as it ferments, so although it tastes sweet, it is low in sugar. As it is full of antioxidants, ginger is known for cleansing the body of toxic chemicals and has been used as a natural remedy for upset stomach and nausea, and as an anti-inflammatory, for centuries. Studies have also shown that fresh ginger fights several types of cancer cells.

1. Peel and grate 50g. of fresh ginger and place into a large saucepan.
2. Add ½ tsp. cream of tartar, 60ml. fresh lemon juice and 1 litre of water.
3. Bring the mixture to a boil.
4. Turn the heat down, add 7oz. granulated sugar and stir until the sugar is dissolved.
5. Add a further 1 litre of cold water and allow it to cool to around 75’F (23’C).
6. Add 1tsp. active dried yeast and stir well.
7. Cover the saucepan with a clean kitchen towel and place in a warm, dark place for 3 hours; it will smell gingery and yeasty
8. Using a fine strainer, strain the liquid into a large jug to remove the ginger
9. Pour the liquid into a clean 2-litre plasticbottle (this is important as a glass bottle is likely to shatter as the pressure builds up) with a screw top. Do not fill the bottle up to the top – you need to allow room for fermentation to take place
10. Place the ginger beer in a warm dark place for 2 to 3 days (for a sweeter drink, ferment the ginger beer for 1 to 2 days only, or use more sugar). It is important at this stage to carefully loosen the top (without fully opening the bottle) to relieve some of the pressure, several times a day. After 24 hours, you will notice yeast bubbling on top of the liquid and settling at the bottom, which is normal.
11. Once it has finished fermenting, you can drink the ginger beer as it is or add fruit, syrup, juice, or your favourite spirit to create your own mix.

If bottling the ginger beer in glass bottles, allow it to lose most of its fizz first; it will continue to carbonate in the bottle, and this could result in an explosion if there is too much pressure.

Over the holidays, what better way to entertain children than to read a favourite book and then enact the scene?

Friendship

These past 12 months, much of what we have all experienced has been about friendship.

Defined as ‘a personal relationship that is grounded in a concern on the part of each friend for the welfare of the other’, there can have been few occasions, certainly since the second world war, when we have all, in one way or another, needed a friend to turn to more.

The strain on friendships that have had to be conducted long distance, and the distress caused where help or comfort might be needed, cannot be underestimated.

Living alone, with no children or parents of my own, and shielding at home, I have welcomed the opportunity, and the time, to be able to turn my attentions, albeit remotely, towards supporting others as they have struggled to cope with prolonged absences.

What has been very apparent though, is that in the face of extreme circumstances, as a nation we have really stepped up to the mark. Living in an area blessed with a rich diversity of rural communities, it has made me feel really proud to be British. As even basic services have felt the strain, I have witnessed first-hand the coming together of groups of people volunteering to fill in the gaps, and doing a tremendous job too.

As things begin to return to the ‘new’ normal many of us will find that the pattern of our lives has changed considerably. Apart from the loss of loved ones, we cannot escape the other repercussions of the pandemic on the economy, which will take many years to recover.

We may well find that in the coming weeks and months that we need the support of friends more than ever. In considering this I was reminded of a recipe I had been given almost 40 years ago, for 9 Day Amish Friendship Bread. It is simple to make, and it is the sharing of it that really brings home the value of friendship. I hope you enjoy it.

9 DAY AMISH FRIENDSHIP BREAD

DO NOT REFRIGERATE

STORE IN CONTAINER WITH LOOSE LID OR FOIL - 1 cup milk; 1 cup sugar; 1 cup flour

DAYS 1,2,3 – stir a few times

DAY 4 – stir and add:-  1 cup milk; 1 cup sugar; 1 cup flour

DAYS 5,6,7, 8 – stir a few times

DAY 9 – stir until smooth and add:- 1 cup milk; 1 cup sugar; 1 cup flour

PUT ONE CUP OF THE MIXTURE INTO EACH OF THREE CONTAINERS AND GIVE ONE TO EACH OF THREE FRIENDS

When ready to make the bread, pre-heat oven to 350’f/180’C and grease and line two 1lb. loaf tins.  

TO THE REMAINING BATTER ADD;-

2/3 cup of cooking oil

½ tsp. baking soda

1¼ tsp. baking powder

1 cup of sugar

2 cups of flour

1½ tsp. vanilla essence

½ tbsp. salt

2 tsp. cinnamon

3 eggs (can also add bananas, raisins, nuts etc. if required)

Pour the mixture into the tins and bake for 40-45 mins. until just firm (a skewer inserted into the middle should come out clean). Cool on a wire rack. Will keep for up to 1 week.

Last Man Standing

Now in my mid-60s, I am mindful that as time moves inexorably on, the deletion of so many long-standing friends is taking over my address book entries. At the moment it seems as if I hear the unwelcome of news of yet another death on a daily basis. Almost none of this is Covid related, yet very few of those I am acquainted with are dying of a long-term illness.

Part of this is my own problem. Throughout my life I always seem to have had close friendships with people who are much older than I am.

A friend in New York, in her 80s and virtually housebound, recently died in a horrendous fire. Since then, having made front page news, Facebook postings have reminded us all just how well regarded she was, and how much she contributed to the wider community, sharing her expertise to enrich the lives of us all.

I also recall, several years ago, attending the funeral of my best friend’s mother, who being a bit of a recluse eventually succumbed to pneumonia, escalated by her standing by an open window in freezing cold weather, because she did not want to be a burden to anyone. We travelled up from Cornwall to Scotland for the funeral, just 8 of us in total. She had outlived all of the other people in her life.

As a regular church goer, I have also remembered that during a morning service the vicar mentioned that later that day he was conducting the funeral of a homeless woman who had no relative or friends. I had no idea who this person was but felt compelled to attend. I just could not bear the thought of someone being sent to meet their maker alone, with no-one to even acknowledge their demise.

I think about my own death quite frequently, and even bought my own coffin (a wicker one) several years ago, because I was fed up with attending funerals at which it was clear that it was a case of let’s just go with the cheapest. Dead or alive, I do care what happens to my body.

One thing I am quite clear about is that I do not want to end my days in the care of strangers, having lost my independence so that I cannot decide what I want to eat and when, for example. I am witnessing so much of this at the moment that it distresses me to think of people I once knew to be vibrant go-getters living out their days at the mercy of others, and thoroughly miserable about it.

While I still have all of my marbles, I have also begun to consider the disbursement of my belongings and have planned the funeral service and the wake too. The way I look at it, it is really the last party I shall attend; I am not putting money on not being ‘up there’ looking down on the proceedings.

None of us know when our last day on earth will be, but I think we owe it to ourselves and our loved ones to at least consider the implications for them. It can be distressing enough to lose a family member, close friend, or colleague, and while we still have breath in our bodies, we can do our bit to help them in coming to terms with the fact that this is the final goodbye.

For the same reason, I believe that whenever we have contact, be it in person, by correspondence, or a ‘phone call, we should, where possible, ensure that it ends on a positive note. It is far better to remember someone with fondness than to be reminded of any friction.

TURNING THE OTHER CHEEK

 

In the face of significant unfair, and untrue, criticism about one’s actions, or alleged lack of them, the natural reaction is to fight back.

I have always been a fighter and, as a result, have landed myself in hot water on many occasions as a result of it.

When it comes to politics, I believe that if you choose to put your head above the parapet, you are fair game. We see plenty of examples of this on a daily basis. What bothers me though, is that the righteous stance taken by those who scream and shout loudest, is almost always done with the intention, not of pointing out or correcting the error of their ways, but with the intention of gathering the support of the chattering classes, whether justified or not.

We must always be aware of the hidden agenda and be willing to look beyond the pithy statements issued by those who should know better.

Locally, in recent weeks there has been considerable attention paid to several key issues in relation to the future of our schools and local government. Naturally, any decision that is taken (which will not be by me) will not find favour with everyone. Those who are unhappy are of course keen to express their displeasure, but what is unacceptable is that when their behaviour and tone are so intimidating that those with differing views feel afraid to express a contrary view. Fuelled by ready access to social media this is nothing short of bullying and is unacceptable. All too often those who wade-in with both guns blazing, do so from a position of ignorance, merely using the situation as a point scoring exercise. What is interesting though, is that in the midst of this manufactured hysteria, those who are most keen to be seen and heard have until now, when there is political capital to be gained, have shown precious little interest, or knowledge, in the matter, and even more importantly, are least likely to be affected.

Those of us in full receipt of the facts know this all too well.

When considering a response to such public comments there can be a tendency to retaliate, but this just plays into their hands, providing momentum for them to continue to disburse their viewpoint.

The proverb, ‘those who live in glass houses should not throw stones’ comes to mind. None of us are perfect, and we are all vulnerable to criticism, which is why I am choosing to turn the other cheek. Those who need to know the truth do, and will be able to make their own judgments; in as much as any of us have the right to pass judgment on others.

TOXIC TALK

 

Rightly or wrongly, I took the decision some years ago to stop reading newspapers, or to listen to the news. To be honest, the main reason was that I just did not have the time. I felt that if the topic were important enough, its content would find its way to me somehow. In addition, I found that much of what was said or reported was inaccurate, repetition or irrelevant; little more than gossip.

At that point social media had not yet taken hold in quite the way in which it has since.

There are of course benefits to using social media in as much as it gives the man on the street a voice, and rightly so. There is also the counter argument that those who choose to use social media to get their message across often choose to do so in an inappropriate and counter-productive way.

The term trolling, ‘creating discord on the Internet by starting quarrels or upsetting people by posting inflammatory messages in an online community; someone who purposely says something controversial in order to get a rise out of other users’, first came into use in the early 1990s, and we hear often of those who have been victims of it.

What we are dealing with here is basically little more than tittle-tattle, rumour or hearsay, driven by those who have their own agenda. What is not made at all clear in their communications, these throw away lines and off-the-cuff remarks born out of ignorance, is where they have obtained their information from, how accurate it might be, and what their purpose is in exposing it to the public domain.

Such gossips are fuelled by casual, unconstrained conversation or reports about other people, typically involving details that are not confirmed as being true

By indulging in such conversations we are buying into the views of others who have their own agendas, and feel justified in making comment with no hard facts to back up their assertions. Sadly, we have seen much of this locally in recent weeks and months, particularly in a political context, which is to be expected as the battle lines are drawn. As members of the public, we owe it to ourselves to treat such comments with the disdain they deserve, challenge their veracity and, for an accurate account of events, go straight to the source. It is funny how the people that know the least about us always have the most to say. Shoring up their own insecurity and feelings of worthlessness at the expense of others perhaps?

FOOD TO MAKE YOU CRY

Food has been my passion, almost an obsession, for as long as I can remember. Even as a council flat kid, with a single parent, living on the bread line, we still found a way to indulge in ‘good’ food. Once I started working, and in those days, you were given 25p luncheon vouchers, I used to save them up until we had enough to eat out at a ‘posh’ restaurant. This was almost 50 years ago, at a time when ready meals were largely just a distant dream. I cannot recall any household from that time where food was not cooked from scratch each day, the leftovers used the following day to eke out a meagre budget. A time when tinned salmon, asparagus and strawberries were considered the height of luxury, and yes, olive oil was bought in tiny bottles from the chemist.

Many years later, once I started cooking for a living, and living the high life, in California, Chicago and New York, I spent every spare moment, and every spare penny, on exploring the restaurants in the neighbourhood. Big cities lend themselves to a diversity of cuisine that small rural areas cannot quite manage. In addition to the ubiquitous Chinese and Indian establishments, I indulged in Tibetan, Ethiopian, Russian, Hungarian, Turkish food; anything out of the ordinary, all the while spending my working day doing what I could to promote British food, which had a bad rap. Deservedly so at that time.

In New York, although I worked long hours (and still do) cooking for HM Ambassador to the UN, my free time, when the UN was not in session, was plentiful, enabling me to travel further afield. Living rent free in a Manhattan apartment, I had plenty of disposable income.

At last count I must have eaten over 20,000 meals in a wide variety of enterprises; everything from street food in Morocco, Guatemala, Cuba and India, to high end, world famous restaurants with a host of Michelin stars to their name.

During lockdown I have been reading a lot about food and travel, preferring such books to fiction, although I have not been best pleased about the need to use Amazon to feed my habit. Attempting to keep to a reasonable budget, I often select books and add them to a wish list in case I should win the lottery (no chance, as I don’t do it) and can justify the purchase. A few weeks ago, I inadvertently pressed the ‘buy’ button to find that I had ordered over £200 worth of books, by mistake. When it came to rectifying my error, Amazon refused to play ball. May the money grabbing, tax avoiding, business get its just desserts.

Hence, on a bright sunny morning, almost spring like, I find myself opening a weighty ‘coffee table’ tome ‘The French Laundry, per se’ by Thomas Keller, costing a whopping great £54!

Within minutes I went from resenting the expenditure to re-living the two most exceptional meals I have ever eaten, a vegetarian meal at The French Laundry in California in 1995, and more recently, a 13-course lunch at per se in New York, the latter costing the equivalent of a month’s mortgage payment, at £250 a head. A true carnivore, I once again opted for the vegetarian option to maximise the number of dishes I could taste, as my dining companion insisted on the main meat and fish inspired menu. Suffice to say we are no longer dating.

How could one meal cost so much, and was it worth it? The short answer is yes, every single penny. What made the experience so remarkable was not just the food but everything from the hand-written personalised menu to the calm, but unstuffy, ambience, the exceptional discreet and unassuming service (from a Glaswegian), the topping up of Champagne at regular intervals, and a visit to the kitchen.

It is as if they are aware of the effort that diners go to in order to have this experience and want to make sure it is a truly memorable one. Here I have a confession to make. I do not have a very big appetite, and to accommodate so many, albeit miniature, courses I did what the Romans used to do….. My other overriding memory is of attempting to steal some of the hand made chocolates that arrived in a four-tiered coffre, only for our waiter to say ‘There is no need to do that madam’ before handing me a bag full!

In reading about Thomas Keller’s experience of setting up his restaurants, what comes across clearly is the tireless dedication of those who work for him, his focus on inspiring and mentoring them to achieve their best, his strong relationship with his purveyors, and the fact that the guest always comes first.

In the face of so many mediocre restaurants, where the only thing that matters is cutting costs and making huge profits, it was enough to make me cry.