Category: frugality

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The pantry is Go!

I remember writing about my desire for a pantry three years ago when we were designing the house. Ive always yearned for somewhere dedicated to store food.

When we identified a small area in the house plans that had no natural light and could be used as a pantry, I was there. Who needs another metre or so on their bathroom? This was far more important!

It’s always seemed sensible to me, and even more so since living through a highland winter or two, to have longer term stocks of dried or canned supplies in case of emergency or not being able to get to the shops because of the weather.

Besides, buying in bulk is nearly always more cost effective than in small quantities.

I’ve always been this way. Squirrelling away lentils, flour and dried beans in any spare corner of the kitchen that I could find. Any shelves in proximity to the kitchen not taken up by books have been filled with jars, cans and packets.

This desire has been heightened even further since growing our own vegetables on the croft. It’s true that there’s nothing as satisfying as eating your own organic produce. For the last two years I’ve held back the quantities that we’ve grown because we’ve had no way of storing any surplus.

I’ve been interested to learn about methods of food preservation and follow a number of self sufficiency bloggers in envy as they fill row after row of shelves in their cellars with their own canned produce.

Today was the day. I felt like cutting a red ribbon to launch her! The shelves went in and with lights and power the room is fully functional at last. The pantry is operational!

No small room with bare shelves has ever created so much excitement in a house as this one. I can’t wait to start organising and filling it.

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A profusion of mackerel

Friends from the village gave us a bag of freshly caught mackerel from Armadale Bay yesterday.

They arrived, shining, still smelling of the sea. I always think they’re such lovely looking fish.

Husband heroically gutted them all in the tiny caravan kitchen sink and we decided to cook them over the barbecue whilst they were at their best.

Mackerel

There is nothing quite like freshly chargrilled mackerel. They were moist, sweet and slightly smoky from the fire, their skins blackened and crispy. We ate them whilst the sun went down with good bread, dill-pickled cucumber and some fresh salad.

There was enough left over to make mackerel pate this morning. The meat was flaked off into a bowl with cream cheese, lemon juice and zest, a lime, sea salt and cracked black pepper.

Mackerel pate

A pot has gone into the fridge to eat later with sourdough toast, and a bowl has been wrapped as a thankyou gift for the neighbours who brought us the fish.

Later on toasted sourdough

I was just musing that the last time we ate mackerel pate was an expensive pot bought from a London deli. And here we are a year on, eating the same, but probably fresher and more flavoursome than anything bought from a shop.

Eaten with thanks as part of our new life here in Scotland.

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Blackcurrants and Beetroot

The food preserving gene is kicking in strongly now that August has rolled around and the croft produce is starting to come in.

I neither have freezer nor room to store jars of produce yet, but the inner ancestor is urging me to start putting up food for winter.

I am trying my best to resist. Even though there is little more satisfying on a cool, cloudy summers day than preserving jars of loveliness to enjoy over the winter.

This week with my veg bag I scored a punnet of local blackcurrants. I am growing these in the fruit bed on the croft, but the bushes are still only inches tall and too young to produce anything yet.

Blackcurrant coulis

As they’re as tart as they come without the addition of something sweet they’re best cooked. So I weakened, and made a simple blackcurrant coulis, filling a couple of small jars with it. I reassure myself that surely we have room for these…

Drizzled onto breakfast muesli

These will live in the fridge and be used drizzled on pancakes, porridge, meringues or venison over the coming month or so. They won’t last as long as a jam, but that’s OK because we will use them more widely and often than we would a jam anyway.

Beets ready for pickling

I also grew a few rows of beetroot which are starting to reach maturity. A mixture of Touchstone Gold and Pablo. I picked a few earlier this week to make into a jar of pickled beetroot, or maybe a roast beetroot relish.

Note to self: must grow more beetroot next year.

I love the process of making something delicious from things you started from seed some months ago. So satisfying. Growing is wonderful..

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Waste not, want not

My mother used to use this phrase a lot. She was born of a generation that valued thriftiness, and it’s a mantra that I wish I’d taken up more seriously years ago.

My generation was, in contrast, one of consumption, and I shudder now as I think back to the waste I created without a second thought over the years.

I’ve always tried not to waste food, but it’s only really been in recent years that I’ve started really repurposing other things rather than just throwing them out.

Many of my seedlings are being grown on in yoghurt pots, old fruit juice cartons and mushroom trays that I would have previously discarded without a second thought.

Composting is taking care of most of our vegetable-based kitchen waste, and I’m repairing clothes now that I have time to do so rather than endlessly buying new. I feel better for it, I honestly do.

The langoustine feast left us with an enormous pile of empty shells, heads and claws. Janni, our neighbour, passed on a brilliant Icelandic recipe for langoustine bisque which she warned was smelly to cook, but quite delicious.

The stock making process was indeed stinky. I opened all the doors and windows in the caravan but the smell was still strong hours later!

The resulting bisque was gorgeous with a deep, richly intense flavour. There are no artistic Instagram swirls of cream here, I’m afraid, just bowls of soup with crusty homemade spelt sourdough bread given to us by another neighbour.

Janni made wild garlic aioli to go with hers, but I hadn’t been out harvesting yet.

As we sat eating our bisque watching another pink sunset over the mountains, I reflected that dinner tonight was largely made out of leftovers.

My mother would have been proud.