In a pickle

One of the things I missed most when I moved to the UK as a kid was the lack of dill pickles. The lack of good food generally, come to think of it. Sure, the chocolate was better and you get a lovely cup of tea, but the food was almost uniformly lousy, the pizza were appalling and you couldn't even get a nice crisp dill pickle to liven up your sandwich.

The North Wales culinary landscape was pretty miserable in 1985.

Things are much improved. However, I still find the dill pickles a bit hit and miss. Too sweet a lot of the time, or too floppy, or just a bit 'meh'. So I'm making my own.

As I'm not sure how they will turn out, I'm starting with two different recipes.

My new friend-of-a-friend-via-Facebook, the very ace Lisa D, suggested this particular recipe. She's an ex-pat Canadian with excellent taste in many things (i.e. we agree with each other) so that's my first attempt.

Refrigerator pickles aren't proper preserves; they are only good for 2-3 weeks. I'm not sure how many pickles I'll need in that short a time, so I'm only trying one jar for this one. What I have in the cupboard is a much smaller jar than the recipe uses so I've halved the amount of vinegar. I'm using a generous sprig of fresh dill, a peeled clove of garlic (because I like it) and a teaspoon of sea salt. I've sliced the pickles about pound-coin thickness because I prefer them thicker than her wafer thin style.

It takes about 3 minutes to do, and is an absolute doddle.  If these are good I'm going to be delighted.

I liked the idea of longer-lasting pickles too, so I'm doing a more traditional recipe with the majority of jars.

Unlike the massive farms these people seem to have, producing kilo after kilo of cucumbers that require industrial scales of production, I have one plant that escaped the slugs. Downsizing needed.
I swapped the unit of measurement from 1 cup to 1/4 of a cup, and kept proportions the same. so: 1/4 cup table salt, 1 1/4 cups of water, 2 3/4 cups of white wine vinegar, simmered for 10 minutes to dissolve the salt. I put a large sprig of fresh dill, peeled garlic and one fresh chilli pepper (also from the garden) in each jar before stuffing them as full of cucumber as possible.
Because my cucumbers aren't a specific "for pickling" cultivar, they do have more seeds than is usual for dill pickle.  I'm doing some jars with slices and some with spears that I've trimmed the seeds from to see if that keeps them crunchier.
I also read on a number of recipe sites that the blossom end of the cucumber contains enzymes that make it go floppy, so I followed that advice too and trimmed the ends off.

To allow the pickles to last long term, I put all the jars on a folded tea towel in my big stock pot, covered them with boiling water and simmered for 15 minutes. The Internet assures me that will work just as well as a pressurised canner (and obviously the Internet is always factual - ha!) so that's what I did.

Don't worry, I did add more water

When I lifted the jars out (carefully) I could see one wasn't sealed properly so we'll not store that one and eat it soon. The other 4 looked much better, bulging because of the heat, contracting to a vacuum seal as they cooled. They are the duller green I associate with pickles, and I'm very much looking forward to trying them! A shame I have to wait about a month before opening them - I promise I'll update you.

Having been away for 12 days, I had rather a glut of produce to deal with.  I have now washed, trimmed, blanched and frozen over 4kg of French beans, swapped 2 dozen quail eggs for courgette to make fritters, and enjoyed salads of tiny tomatoes with red onion.

I know I say it a lot, but I really do love my garden.

Hail, Caesar!

That Hadrian was a top bloke.

Not satisfied with building ace stuff in Rome like the Pantheon - a building so perfect it made me come over all emotional -  he schleps himself to the furthest northern reach of empire and builds ace stuff here too. The jury's still out about whether introducing hipsters to the empire by making beards fashionable was a good or a bad thing, but let's give him the benefit of the doubt.

As I said in my last post, Hadrian's Wall is something I've wanted to see since I was back in Highland being taught History by Mr Regan. Jim Regan was a wonderful teacher. I've never met anyone here in the UK who was taught history in such a fantastic manner - from prehistory to WW1, hopping countries and continents to look where the most interesting stuff was happening. I learnt to think about how one event led to another and ideas spread from place to place rather than knowing a list of dates and battle names. Mr Regan inspired me to want to see these remarkable places we were hearing about.  I'll always be grateful to him for bringing so much history to life for me.

So, off Mark and I went first thing on Saturday morning for points North.

For my pals not from the UK:
 I live in Leeds, Yorkshire.  Hadrian's Wall is about 125 miles away roughly due North, about 2 and a half hours drive. On the map below, if you follow down the east coast from Hadrian's Wall to a downward pointing snag on the coastline ( the River Humber estuary) Leeds is inland from that. Not an unmanageable distance but quite a long way for a day trip.

We grabbed our breakfasts of choice - toasted cheese bread with marmite from Haley and Clifford for me, a McDonalds sausage McMuffin for Himself. I definitely win at breakfast - and made for Gateshead to pay homage to the Big Man, the Angel of the North.

He's a good looking fella, the Angel. I'm immensely fond of him.

Something I hadn't seen before were young trees planted nearby with decorations, stuffed toys, artificial flowers and memorabilia hanging off them.  They appeared to be shrines or memorials to people - a sort of Christmas tree to the dead.  Is this now A Thing?
Most unexpected.

Driving past the Sage and over river Tyne on the bridge those nice people from Springwatch tell me is a major nesting site for kittiwakes, we cut through Newcastle and headed out to drive alongside the Wall for as much of the journey as we could.

My ridiculously fit and active cousin Gaz O'Connor once ran the entire length of the wall in 13 hours 42 minutes.  Gaz is three weeks older than me and a world apart. He's amazing, and he mystifies me completely. A fun run is a contradiction in terms in my experience. I chose the more indolent option and navigated while Mark drove. I love maps.

We explored the Roman fort and village at Vindolanda, and the museum there. My lovely internet mates Sarah and Katie agreed with WI mate Morticia that it we should definitely visit it. I love having recommendations from mates, it makes trips more exciting somehow.

Amongst the remarkable discoveries in the excavated site there was a mystery. A body of a child had been found under the floor of a room in the barracks. It was against Roman law to bury people in forts or towns; the mausoleums were just outside. Whoever hid the body of that 11 year old girl didn't want her found, poor love.

Vindolanda is most famous for the Roman 'postcards,' the wooden tablets with letters, pleas and a birthday party invitation written on them.  There are photographs, translations and fragments in the museum, but the main collection is with the British Museum. However, the other finds there were also amazing.  The domestic details, the shoes, the child's sock and woman's hairnet are incredible. such small, human touches. I loved the betrothal pendant with two heads kissing on one side and clasped hands on the reverse. The carefully painted glasswork was crazy - two pieces of the same piece found 20 years apart.

One fascinating aspect of Vindolanda was a result of their reconstruction.  In the mid 1970s they built a reconstruction of both the earthworks and timber wall and tower and the stone wall and tower.  In the 40 years since, the earthworks have settled so much the height of that wall is now two metres lower than its stone counterpart.  No wonder they rebuilt in stone!

We had a lovely lunch sitting out in the roman style garden of the museum. Daring little chaffinches, tits and robins were darting from a nearby bush to pinch crumbs from under the tables. There were martin nests at the top of window lintels and a great many swallows zigzagged across catching insects.  It was a delightful way to spend a warm afternoon.

Driving on to Steel Rigg we had a short stroll to the Wall itself. It's a lovely thing. It snakes up and down the hills, sometimes disappearing where stones have been taken and used for other things over the centuries, sometimes rising up from the farmland abruptly.  Steel Rigg is absolutely beautiful, and I had my Wish You Were Here moment.

I am a tactile soul at heart, so I climbed over to the Wall to feel the warmth of the stones. I was there, I touched it, I saw the stonework follow the contours of the landscape and I thought of the men who built it and the men and women it was designed to keep out.

I only wish Mr Regan had been with me.

Summery food for sunny days

A burst of sunshine in between the rainy days had me in the mood for food that tasted of summer. I started browsing the Guardian and BBC food sections for something new to make that is suitable for celebrating warm and gentle days. I found it on a round up of Nigel Slater recipes. 

I've cut and pasted this recipe directly from the Guardian article so I won't lose it. When read it I suddenly remembered an amazing tiny taster of gazpacho we were given before our meal in Cancalle 8 years ago, looking over the oyster beds in the sunshine.  It was one of the most delicious things I'd ever tasted. 

This wasn't quite the same but was still utterly gorgeous. Today I'm making it for the second time but I'm going to leave out the crab. Maybe try tuna or prawns? It won't have the same contrast of heat and sweetness but at £5 for a small pot of white crab meat I can't afford to use that ingredient often.

Actually, I'd have this gazpacho without any seafood at all and still love it, I think. It is dead easy and so delicious.

Nigel Slater's Cold Crab Soup:

See that tiny green chilli?
That was TOO MUCH

Serves 4

garlic 1 small clove
cherry tomatoes 300g
cucumber 1
romano peppers 2
bird’s-eye chilli 1
sherry vinegar 2 tbsp
white crab meat 300g
mustard and cress or watercress to finish

Peel the garlic and place in the jug of an electric blender or food processor. Tip in the cherry tomatoes. Peel the cucumber, then halve and cut one half into two or three pieces and add to the tomatoes and garlic. Finely dice the second half of the cucumber and set aside.

Roughly chop the romano peppers and add to the vegetables in the blender. Process the vegetables until you have a brilliant red puree, then season with the sherry vinegar and a little salt and black pepper.

Chuck it all in the blender

Fold the reserved diced cucumber into the white crab meat, taking care not to crush the flakes of crab.

Pour the soup into four bowls. Spoon the crab on top of the soup, add a pinch of mustard and cress and serve

Ready for the fridge, chilled for later

Note from me - White wine vinegar was fine instead of sherry vinegar. I think I could use a normal red pepper too, but I did buy the long romano peppers this time. I charred the skin off before using them as I find pepper skin a little tough when not cooked.
I would also go very cautiously with the bird's eye chilli - they pack one hell of a punch and could easily overwhelm the other flavours. We love chillies and it had us gasping.
If you put the soup in the fridge before serving, it really thickens up.
If you skip the crab, I suggest a little spring onion in the diced cucumber. Up the salt slightly and maybe a dash of Worcestershire sauce in the soup itself.

Small summery surprises

On the whole, I take a rather Dim View of big surprises.  I love anticipation - why remove so much of the fun of a situation by preventing someone from looking forward to it? Thinking of lovely things ahead is what helps me on tough days.

However, little unexpected things brighten my day.  Like finding self-seeded flowers in bloom at the bottom of my garden, or collecting a double yolker from the nest box.

One of the hens was certainly walking bow-legged after laying this monster - 

And one of the new hen laid her first tiny egg the same day, bless her feathery wee self, and strutted about crowing her achievement for all the world to hear. You'd think no bird had ever laid an egg before for all the obvious fuss she made -

Another nice surprise was being given all these gooseberries from my next door neighbour - 

which I cooked up with sugar in my big jam pan -

 - so I could make jars of gooseberry jam for my Dad. It's one of his favourites. Funny how the colour changes from that lovely green, isn't it?

Not really a surprise, but a delightful unexpected thing I discovered this summer was the presence of a grand piano in the middle of a covered square in Ghent. The roof of the structure was just amazing, the piano rich and beautiful, and watching passers-by sit down to plink plonk out Chopsticks, play some boogie woogie or carry us away with Bach's Toccata and Fugue was one of the highlights of the trip for me.

How does that even work? Wouldn't the changes of humidity and temperature constantly send the piano out of tune? And yet it sounded wonderful to my untutored ear, even in the pouring rain.

A few weeks later I was in Leeds city centre. I'd had fun chatting on BBC Radio Leeds with my erstwhile mentor Andrew Edwards and my partner in chat Caroline Eden. I like being on the radio with Caroline, she's good fun.  Later that evening I was going out for a meal with my Women's Institute pals for the centenary celebration, so I had some time to kill between the two engagements.

Look at what I found - 

A painted grand piano in the Trinity centre! A cluster of young men were hovering around, waiting for a chance to play it, egging each other on.  This lad is a student at Trinity University. He played a lilting piece of his own composition; others played a fair few pop songs to the delight of some school kids wandering by.  I know it's only a temporary feature to celebrate the triennial International Piano Competition, but I do so wish it were a permanent feature. One of my favourite surprises this summer.

Mum and Dad came over for a visit in July, which gave me a chance to surprise Mum in the daftest way possible. 

Since first tasting Viennetta ice cream in the 80s, Mum is completely predictable. "Wouldn't you think they'd make that tray out of chocolate?" she'd say of the dark brown plastic tray the ice cream sits on.  She's right, of course, it looks just like it ought to be dark chocolate. But what makes it funny to us all is that Mum has said it every time without fail, for 30 years. She doesn't even realise she's said it out loud some of the time.

So why not? I bought a Viennetta the week they were due to stay. I removed the squiggly ice cream block and popped it back in the freezer while I washed the tray, lined it with cling film and painted it carefully with melted chocolate.  Once the chocolate had nearly set, I bobbed the ice cream back in its new chocolaty tray. 

After dinner I removed the plastic tray and clingfilm from the bottom, put the Viennetta on a serving plate and brought it over to Mum.

"Don't you wish the tray was made of chocolate?" she said, right on cue.

We laughed all evening. Couldn't stop.  The look on her face was absolutely priceless. I couldn't speak for laughing, and I'm giggling again just writing about it.

Some surprises are worth it.

Too much to say

I'm sorry for the gap in posts. Sometimes I can't blog because I don't have the words or the positivity to tell you stuff. Other times, life seems too full to step back and write about.
This past few months has had so many things in it I wanted to tell you about that I hadn't time to compose my thoughts about one before the next occurred.

I'm fine, my family is fine and we've had a lovely summer. We've seen some examples of the best and worst impulses of people, been to wonderful places, read/baked/pickled/cooked/made/tried all sorts of things and spent time with family and friends.

I hope to be able to talk to you about it all over the next few weeks.

In the mean time, here's a photo of a cathedral in Bruges in the late evening sun and a giraffe from Ghent's graffiti street:

Summer memories

This summer started off with sunshine and happiness.  We had a wonderful family day out at Bolton Abbey, full of tree climbing, splashing in a river and eating ice creams.

It was so warm, happy and picturesque I felt like we were living a scene from Swallows and Amazons or Five Go Adventuring Somewhere Crime-Free.

A couple of days later we went to one of our favourite places: Chester Zoo. Part of our picnic lunch for this particular visit - at least for Zach and I  - was some lovely ripe melon. I think this had a large part to play in what happened next.

We headed into Luke's favourite part of the zoo, the Bat House. I always have to brace myself for entering it because the smell is appalling. I follow the advice of the bloke from Neal's Yard cheese shop of taking some big gulping breathes on the grounds I'll get used to it in 30 seconds. This never happens. The whole time I'm there I feel my nose is being assaulted. However, bats are cool and Luke is cooler, so I go in every time.

There is a little tunnel in the Bat House where hideous things like blind cave fish are kept. As we came out of it, Zach said there were loads of little bats whizzing around him. Luke dismissed this as the wishful thinking of someone mistaking the air movement caused by the larger bats and pooh-poohed the idea. However, standing near Zach very still for a while showed he was right.  Tiny fruit bats were circling his legs. As we all stood still they circled us as well and started to land on our fingertips. They were particularly keen on Zach and me. Several nibbled our fingers before flitting off again.  It was utterly remarkable. We stayed for a good 15 minutes in the centre of this colony of wheeling bats.

As we left the Bat House and washed our hands, I remembered the ripe melon. I suspect the melon juice on our fingers attracted the bats once we were still enough for them to approach us. Knowing Zach, I am pretty sure he'd have wiped his hands on his shorts, too, hence them starting by circling his legs.

The rest of the day was fun as usual. I happened to be at the Giraffe House (my favourites - such beautiful eyes!) as they were getting their evening meal and enjoyed watching them run in. With such long legs they look like they are going in slow motion while moving very quickly. It's surreal. The keeper told me some new stuff about them - personalities, a possible pregnancy etc - which only reinforced my opinion that all zoo workers are lovely people.

The kids had a week at the grandparents' houses, swapping about a bit between them and generally having a wonderfully indulged time. They never miss us while they are away. This either means they are secure and happy or that we're just rubbish.  Pollyanna soul that I am, I'm choosing the former. Sad thoughts? La La La I can't hear you!

While they were away, some entitled soul smashed a side window in our front hall and snatched my handbag. This has caused more flipping effort than you would believe. It's astonishing how much stuff I keep in the handbag I use every day. It's not just the cash and the debit cards, it's all the other gear. Kids' library cards, gift cards, stamps, repeat prescription, Oyster card for London trips, photos of the kids and of my Dad as a toddler (I found it in my grandmother's things when she died and liked it.) Useful numbers, loyalty cards, a couple of tiny souvenirs that make me happy when I see them. Most of the make-up I use regularly. Indeed, I am mostly bereft of make-up as it appears I just shove everything in my handbag and apply it using the living room mirror. I lost 6 lipsticks amongst all the other stuff, which is VERY annoying.

Anyway, a good few days were chewed up by dealing with the police, crime scene team, insurance company, glaziers, and every single company I had a card with. My 'free week' felt a lot less free.

Fortunately, one of the highlights of my year occurred on the Friday - the annual trip to RHS Tatton with my Very Excellent Mate SJ. SJ is one of the most ace people I know. Unfortunately, my kids share that opinion so it can be very hard to have an uninterrupted talk when they are in the vicinity.  Tatton is our luxury - a full day looking at garden things, having a picnic and a damned good chat.

We got dressed up for Ladies' Day this year. Here we are reflected in chrome panels flanking one of the show gardens -

I am crediting my dress and the fancy hat thing I borrowed from my friend Kirsty for the fact that SJ and I were invited into one of the show gardens to sit in a remarkable globe chair I'd admired. Stepping over the barrier, I felt like royalty. Or Monty Don, which for gardeners seems to be the same thing. It was great fun.

On the Sunday Mark and I celebrated our 20th anniversary. Or 10th, depending how you count.  We spent the wedding money on the deposit for a house 20 years ago. Ever since then we've counted the day we moved in as our anniversary - other people had a wedding; we lived in ours.  On our 10th anniversary we went to the registry office with SJ and her partner Rich and got married. (We picked that date so there would be no confusion over when our true anniversary is.)
My idealistic feminism may reject the patriarchal institution of marriage but my pragmatic self wants access to Mark's pension and for him to have rights over the boys (they were born before the law about unmarried parents changed.) So, we think it's our 20th anniversary this year but other people might think 10th.

My lovely parents had the kids to allow us to go to London overnight. We ate a refined and delicious lunch at Rowley Leigh's Cafe Anglais on Sunday (Mark arranged it with himself in mind) and saw the truly wonderful Boyhood by Richard Linklater in the evening. We cried, we smiled, we were charmed beyond words. I do recommend it wholeheartedly.

The next day we went to the Matisse exhibition at Tate Modern. Mark bought me a Matisse lithograph for my 40th birthday - made during his lifetime and overseen by the man himself. We didn't know the original would be included in the exhibition as it is in private hands. It was - hurray! And WOW is it ever massive! I was thrilled to see it in the flesh, so to speak.  The whole exhibition was marvellous.

We had lunch at Bocca di Lupo (which Mark arranged with me in mind. I think Italian is the best of all types of food) which was utterly amazing. If you ever get the opportunity to go, I urge you to order a granita cocktail. I had the Bramble - gin, lemon, blackberry liquor - and Mark had the Bloody Mimosa - blood orange juice and prosecco. It was a good job the food was so amazing; in any other restaurant those cocktails would have been the highlight of the experience.

Back home we had a day divided between the den building event in town and the free Breeze festival, which involved me, the kids and a whole pile of their friends.  I used my Christmas vouchers for a patisserie day at Betty's (just fabulous). We had a big get-together with many of my Very Excellent mates and their families that ended with 16 people sleeping in our house. There was barely a patch of floor not covered in sleeping bags.

Miss B spent 16 days in Spain with her uncle and cousins. The lads joined her after a week, travelling with my parents. While they were at home without her we nipped off to watch Guardians of the Galaxy - top fun. We also had the highlight of Zach's whole summer: meeting the author of the Scott Pilgrim graphic novels. Bryan Lee Scott was touring to promote his new graphic novel, Seconds. It's a more mature story; very much a novel that happens to be told in pictures rather than a comic. Bryan was a lovely bloke, very friendly and encouraging. Meeting him, getting an autograph and a photo with him put Zach in a giddy, euphoric mood for days.  He even enjoyed queueing for 2 hours to be at the front of the line because talking to the people in the queue "was like finding my people, Mummy!" 

While the lads and B were away Mark and I were very busy on our summer project. I'll post all about that in the next little while.