Bikinis Bite the Dust

The weather in England grows increasingly autumnal; I hear cries of 'sod the diet!' as the opportunity for donning a bikini dims and we all pull on wooly jumpers to shield us from the howling wind. I was at a friend's house on Wednesday evening to a) have dinner and b) forage around in his neighbour's vegetable patch (with the owner's consent, of course). Having ventured out into heavy rain and picked a generous crop of tomatoes and root vegetables, we were in need of something warm and sweet to take our minds off our soggy feet. I prepared this easy-peasy chocolate & peanut-butter sauce and spooned it over vanilla ice-cream, creating a fussiless comfort dessert. The sauce is adapted from a Nigel Slater recipe; I have reduced the ingredients list to just four items, three of which may well exist in your household anyday.

Ingredients:
180g dark chocolate
2 tbsp. golden syrup
2 tbsp. peanut butter (quantity can be varied, according to your taste)
Milk

Method:
1. Melt the chocolate and peanut butter in a bain-marie, cooking gently and without the bottom of the bowl touching the water beneath it.
2. Stir in the golden syrup, reserving some if the mixture gets too thick to stir comfortably.
3. Stir in splashes of milk, little be little, until a smooth, glossy sauce is achieved that dribbles in thick ribbons off the spoon.

Substitute unsalted butter for the peanut-butter if you'd like a simpler, less sickly sauce. The end result will always be calorific but, with swimsuits back in the drawer, there's now much less pressure to have such a defined figure.

Different Sizes, Same Passion #3

The final food fix in this particular trilogy is the smallest and, in my own soppy judgment, the sweetest of the lot. A sprightly Frenchman selling fresh fruit and vegetables is a quintessential image of l'hexagon, to which I travelled just over a month ago, yet this particular vendor was not sandwiched between fresh bread and seafood stalls in a bustling city market. Rather, he was set up on his own in a small town car park; as vibrant in spirit as the colour of his carrots and tomatoes, despite his lack of company or the rain that fell from cloudy skies. It's a shame that, already rushing to catch a train to Paris, I could not stop and buy something from this admirable chap, but he was more than happy for me to take his picture (I couldn't think quickly enough to ask him if he would mind appearing on the internet!).

The produce did look delicous, though, and was worthy enough for Monsieur to sell unaccompanied in the best spot he could find, albeit with petrol fumes wafting past!

So, there we are, three places that differ in form but not in function, as each provides the customer with food that is tasty and rustic; grown and sold with pride to us who will cook and eat it with pleasure. I hope this has inspired you to look for the likes of it in your area.

Different Sizes, Same Passion #2

The second food establishment; this time a little closer to home as I share my recent visit to a local farm shop in Essex, my home county. Cressing Park Farm Shop is a small setup, tucked away next to the agricultural plot of land on which some of shop's produce- meat, eggs, fruit, veg. and dairy- is grown or reared; and if the food's not from the site itself, it's most definitely locally sourced, such as the fresh bread delivered daily from Braintree company Legg's Bakery, along with the vast array of chutneys and honey from Coggeshall and Silver End respectively.

I spoke to Fiona, the front lady of the shop that day, and asked her what's so special about the food that she sells. Without hesitation, she replied, "It's all so fresh." And that makes for the best taste? "Exactly." Fiona was also keen to promote the role of the Farm Shop in the community, holding regular events on the site for local families or schools.

What's more, affirmation of the high quality of produce and provision comes through the shop's becoming a finalist in the Essex Food & Drink Awards 2010.

It's a shame that time and availability constraints deem wholly relying on the local farm shop impractical; neverthless it's refreshing to know that, less than ten minutes from the supermarkets in a commercial town centre, there's a rural alternative where buying your groceries means supporting local trade and fuelling a community passion for food- something that, I'm sure you'll agree with me, should exist in every county.

For more information on events or shop produce, visit http://www.cressingparkfarmshop.co.uk/

Different Sizes, Same Passion #1

For my next few posts, I'd like to mention three...what can I call them?...food establishments, shall we say, that I have had the pleasure of visiting recently. All share the common criteria of a place which sells honest, tasty food that, in my opinion, should be celebrated and more widely consumed. I psychologically partner the three like a tiered wedding cake, with a large, medium and small, and it is in this way that I shall present them to you who are reading.

We begin with the largest, and certainly the most well-known, setup: Borough Market of South East London, which attracts tourists, travellers and Londoners alike to its food stalls every Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Crowds flock to the site during the weekend; thus, I chose wisely to make my latest visit on a Thursday, when I would have the time and space to better take in that which Borough Market has to offer.

A good market must have an enticing atmosphere, and at Borough the shared enthusiam for food between vendors and visitors injects excitement into the air; not to mention the buzz of cheerful chatter that exists here also, along with waves of tasty smells given off by the street-food stalls. My sister and I caught the scent of chargrilled meats at lunchtime, and enjoyed a shared (pretty huge) Merguez sausage wrap from Cafe Brood (which opens up an outdoor kitchen for market days), see above, as well as picking up an aromatic portion of paella to take home.

Further on into the market, the produce on sale is an eclectic mix of fruits, meats, cheeses and breads; each stall proudly presented and with a holder happy to have you taste before you buy. This makes for the most interactive experience in food-shopping, as you sample the produce and chat to its cultivator; what's more, showing an interest and nice smile can often grant you a very generous portion for what you pay. It is this added social element that sets apart market-browsing from supermarket-dashing, and I'd urge you all to shop at food markets, big or small, as often as possible.

On the train home from London, my sister and I reflected regretfully on the foods we wished we'd bought at Borough Market. No matter, though; we'll just have to make a return trip there soon to pick them up...

Borough Market is open Thursday 11 a.m.-5 p.m., Friday 12 p.m.-6 p.m. and Saturday 8 a.m.-5 p.m. in London SE1. Visit www.boroughmarket.org.uk for more information.

Autumn arrives early

Ah, what did I expect from classic British summertime? Today, like many before it this season and I most certainly foresee several after, has been decidedly un-summery. No blistering heat nor blazing sun; no dash to the seaside nor decent bronzing opportunity, but an overcast sky and chilly breeze.

Yet, this time, we decided not to deny the grumpy climate but to welcome it as an early wave of autumnal weather, and our evening meal followed suit.Hence, I sit with a heavy, happy stomach satisfied by Toad-in-the-Hole, which my older sister made in quest of learning to cook before returning to University, and my homemade crumble for pudding.

Whereas Toad. may be a little long-winded for under-graduates to manage in their cramped, campus kitchens (although which young adult doesn't like sausages?...and batter??), crumble is a simple-staple that should exist in every student's cooking repertoire- a quality pud that never ceases to please. I used a recipe by Sophie Dahl, from her debut cookery book Miss Dahl's Voluptuous Delights, which uses spelt flour and porridge oats in the topping. The oats give the crust an interesting texture and using dark brown sugar adds a musky sweetness. The fruits that stewed beneath this were partly the takings of a recent raid on my friend Chloe's apple tree, as well as small dollops here-and-there of homemade blackcurrant jam.

Overall, I'm pleased to say that the combination worked wonderfully, and the great thing about crumble is that almost any fruit can be used (except, although I have never tried but would advise against, oranges and bananas).

Not to say that I am yet sick of strawberries and cream, but both of these oven-baked dishes have got me nice and excited about next season!

P.J. and Croissant

See previous post for jam recipe.

Fruit, Glorious Fruit

'Tis the season to be fruity, and at the Carrefour supermarket in France we found a huge stand of ripe watermelons. How could we resist? We picked out the largest specimen and balanced it in the front basket of Evelyne's bike to take home and share with the family (my host mother, riding her bicycle laden with fruit, made the image of a true French mamie).

Big as a pregnant belly, the watermelon was dessert for several meals and equally satisfying at each. Its juice was so sweet, it was as though we were eating slices of sorbet. I've since had a debate with a friend over whether or not you eat the seeds of a watermelon, but I daresay I even enjoyed those too. Eating this one gem of a summer fruit was such a pleasant feature of my short stay in France, and again it made me regret slightly that we don't find anything quite so good in British supermarkets (although I did note that our cherries and strawberries are tastier).

Also, this time back in England, I came home last afternoon to the exciting sight (and smell) of my mum's homemade pineapple jam. I stuck a spoon into one of the still-warm jars to test this latest batch; gooey, sweet and buttery (yes, buttery), pineapple has been a revelation to me in jam flavours. I had never tried it until a few months ago, but it has swiftly moved to the top of my Favourites list (just above raspberry and apricot).

There exist a couple of tiresomely long-winded recipes around for pineapple jam, yet this one achieves the same delicious result with delightful simplicity:

Ingredients:

1 large, fresh pineapple (makes about 1kg jam)

1.5lb/500g jam sugar (with pectin)

Method:

1. Peel, core and finely chop the fresh pineapple, removing all eyes and bits of skin.

2. Mix the fruit with the sugar and 0.5 pints/300ml water in a deep preserving pan.

3. Boil the mixture over a medium heat, stirring gently and removing excess froth from the surface, until it becomes syrupy and dark (homemade p.j.'s rich amber is a much more appetizing colour than the pale lemon-yellow of shop-bought brands).

4. Test a sample of the jam by leaving it to cool on a saucer- if it becomes sticky and forms a wrinkled skin, it's ready; boil for a little longer if not, and test again.

5. To set, divide the jam into hot, sterilised jars and seal when cold.

Store in the fridge and dollop onto hot buttered toast, a warm croissant or even stir into plain Greek yoghurt. Soon, it'll be your favourite too.

See my next post for an accompanying photo.

Brioche Attempt #2

Another go at making brioche. Better this time- no surgery necessary.

It's actually quite a pleasure to make, what with the raw dough being so smooth and it's scent so mellow. What's more, if you start the process early one evening, you can have the loaf fully prepared and baked in time for a late breakfast or brunch the next morning. The end result is richer and spongier and certainly less sugary than packet-loaves; well worth the moderate effort, I promise you.