Lick

A relentlessly grey day

The weather forecaster doomcasting armageddon.

The answer?

CAKE.

And for old times’ sake, harking back to the dark days of lockdown, and realising that a couple of bananas in my fridge appear to have developed frostbite (no I don’t know how that happens either) I decided to make a Banana Cake.

Job done. Cake doing its thing in the oven as I write.

Needless to say that I made short work of licking out the bowl of cake mix residue before washing. A habit since childhood when I was given the honour of licking the bowl after cakes were made, stood on a chair, covered in flour from ‘helping.’ Happy days.

And apparently such childhood days which have gone, according to a little frivolous research online. Gone the same way as scrumping apples, and playing in mud, and cycling alone for miles along country lanes, and being left alone with a box of matches, and open coal fires, and eating dog food. Ok so, some things are best forgotten.

And not just for children. A cursory search throws up doom-laden reports, advice from doctors and internet not-doctors, and hear-sayers, saying DON’T LICK THE BOWL OR ELSE.

The ‘Else’ being a nasty case of food poisoning, not from the raw eggs in the mix, but actually from raw flour.

Now, it would be irresponsible for me to say ‘Tosh,’ to these reports. There will always be exceptions, and one should always weigh up the risk according to your own personal circumstances. But I can’t help noticing the frequency that the comments online start with the words ‘When I was little, my grandmother always let me lick the spoon, or the bowl but…’ But then go on to say that they won’t let their child do it, or they now regard it as a dangerous thing to do, or they’ve read some damning evidence somewhere.

We live in an anxious world, and licking the cake-bowl makes me feel less anxious.

R

Oyster Catchers

(Reproduced from Minhall & Jones Food Blog)

Now … I do not like Oysters. In fact I would go as far as to say that I loathe then, and have to think twice before entering a room where I know they are being served.

I have tried them. So I am not speaking from inexperience. A long time ago on a road trip to the Western Isles. I found myself in an Oyster bar in Loch Fyne of all places, and deciding that it was now or never to try them for the first time. In they went. The feeling was just all wrong. And I only just managed to get it over the threshold and into my gullet. My antipathy was solidified a few year later when a friend’s son also tried them for the first time … and couldn’t quite get it past the that threshold. The look of panic on everyone’s faces. Were we about to be showered with the remains of an undigested oyster?

So, my attitude has always been ‘proceed with caution.’

But if that’s the case, why have I been loitering around the Falmouth Oyster Festival all week?

Photo © Rob Jones

The bottom line is that I just love festivals - Book festivals (about to kick off) Arts Festivals (that happened a couple of weeks ago) and of course Food Festivals. I think it harks back to the days when, as a treat we’d all pile onto the train - it was steam trains back then - get off at Paddington and then negotiate the short journey to Earls Court of Olympia to the Ideal Homes Exhibition, where we’d be dragged around the exhibition hall trying various foods, labour saving devices (like spiralisers) and watching demonstrations of how to live this fantastic existence in a time of novelty. I love watching demonstrations, from a distance. I adore the idea of ‘devices,’ though I have spent the last few years divesting myself of all the unused devices I have collected over the decades. Nice idea at the time. Totally impractical when you get it home. Too flimsy to keep till Christmas and pass it off as a ‘thoughtful’ present to an aunty.

Photo © Rob Jones

I don’t seem to be alone. It’s estimated that more than 3000 people plan their holidays around food festivals in Cornwall alone, which generate some £3 million for the local economy. Needless to say, some have not weathered the storm of Covid well, and have struggled to rebuild their popularity.

Not so it seems with the Falmouth Oyster Festival, which was actually much more than simply about oysters. The festival marks the start of the oyster dredging season which runs from October to March, and brings together oyster lovers of course, but also chefs, food and drink enthusiasts, producers and local musicians.

Plenty of street-food outlets too. Yum.

I had a few close shaves with oysters as I squeezed my way through the tent, but I kept my composure at all times.

No plans to change my mind, but certainly no reason to shun this annual shuck-fest.

R

Fasolada - Greek Bean Soup

After yesterday’s Coronation Quiche-Fest …

I was in need of something a little more exciting, and yet retaining a tenuous Royal connection.

Really enjoyed the Greek influences during the ceremony yesterday .. a tribute to the late Duke of Edinburgh. Brought back memories of walking around Corfu town, near Mon Repos where Prince Philip was brought up.

It was also a timely prod to use up my cannellini beans which had been haunting my kitchen cabinet for a couple of months awaiting ‘The Call.’

So here’s my take on Fasolada - Greek Bean Soup - with Bacon.

You’ll find it as φασολάδα on the menu.

Ingredients:

Standard pack of Cannellini Beans - soaked overnight, then rinsed and boiled till just short of soft to the bite.

The rest of the ingredients are really to taste, depending on your likes/dislikes,

Mine was as follows:

• Three roughly chopped red onions.

• Half a dozen cloves of garlic.

• Two celery stalks, fine sliced.

• Passata.

• A Pinch of Smoked Paprika.

• Pepper to taste.

• Optionally I added some ‘cook’s bacon’ chunks which I pre cooked in the Air Fryer.

• A pint of broth made from Miso paste.

• Optionally some diced Carrot, though I did not. The dish is orange enough.

• Obligatory Oregano

For the method:

Fry the onions, garlic, and celery in large pan. Add the wet ingredients and seasoning.

Add the beans and simmer till it begins to thicken.

Add the bacon at the last minute.

Serve sprinkled with Feta and with some crusty bread.

R

Coronation Quiche

It had to be done ….

In answer to AMM’s Coronation Chicken … this year’s Coronation Quiche had to be made.

However …

A quick perusal of the ingredients and I decided it needed an upgrade otherwise it was going to end up rather bland … and we can’t have that.

It was heralded as, ‘"a deep quiche with a crisp, light pastry case and delicate flavours of spinach, broad beans and fresh tarragon.’ Created by the Chief Royal Chef, Mark Flanagan because it would be perfect for sharing. I think he perhaps played it safe.

And anyway … as a home bird with a teeny weeny social circle… this was never going to be for sharing. This was going to have to entertain my palate for at least … ooh … until it smells off.

So … ditched the ‘make my own pastry’ shenanigans. And got some ready made, ready rolled shortcrust.

Blind baked it in a pre-greased deep (about an inch) round tin for 30 mins in a 190C pre-heated oven. Then for another ten mins without the baking beans.

For the filling — I followed my guts, as that was what was going to have to eat it eventually anyway.

Fried off some mushrooms (not in the original recipe) and wilted some Spinach. Cooked up some broad beans.

For the goo … Three eggs, 125ml of milk, and about 200ml of double cream.

150g of Cheddar Cheese laced with leeks (He was the Prince of Wales after all).

In the Pastry case — sprinkled some more cheese on the base, then a layer of mushrooms, a sprinkling of broad beans, and some random spinach.

Pour over the eggy/milk mixture, and sprinkle the top with yet more cheese and some Tarragon.

Turn down the oven slightly and bake for about 30 mins… until it goes golden brown.

Once cooked, leave it to cool. Serve with some pickle or relish.

Long Live the Quiche

R

Heidi Hi!

I’ve been skirting around cheese lately - probably along with half the nation who are either trying to bring their cholesterol down, or trying to lose weight.

Only … I passed that shop again in Menai Bridge.

There’s something about going into a store like that and getting a personal recommendation from the proprietor - same would go from a butcher or a baker (or a candlestick maker if they still exist.)

‘Good day to you fine Sir,’ is the usual opening gambit.

‘Can you recommend some cheese, please?’ with a slight enquiring cock of the head.

‘Yes,’ is usually the reply.

So on this occasion - I elected to try some Alp Blossom Cheese

It’s widely available in the UK, but it took a little digging to find their ‘folksy’ website, with some rather enticing other cheeses to locate and try.

So … it’s made in Austria with milk from Brown Swiss cows in the Allgäu region of Bavaria. Not overly sure if the colour of the cow makes a difference to the end product. I suspect not.

You can’t appreciate its beauty from a single slice, but the exterior is decorated with a mix of herbs and flowers which only adds to the fabulous flavour - almost honey like. Gentle.

Eating it made me feel like I was Heidi, running up into the high Alps to tend her goats - an image I am sure AMM would prefer to have razed from her mind.

Just off to locate some Lederhosen.

Maybe I should lay off the cheese?

R