Tag: preserves

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Picklification Complete

A fellow island crofter generously responded to my plea for small cucumbers to pickle and donated a bag of them.

Salting peacefully awaiting their vinegar bath

Freshly picked from their polytunnel, small and crunchy, there was a definite frisson of excitement as I clutched the bag with barely concealed anticipation and drove home to check the vinegar situation.

There’s something addictive about pickling. Gherkins, or dill pickles, are my very favourite pickle of all time, and something I find hard to buy in the shops locally. This timely donation was therefore all the more meaningful and I was determined to do them justice.

Over the last few days I’ve tenderly washed and patted dry, salted, rinsed and patted dry again these little nuggets of joy. A newborn could not have been more cosseted.

Oh yes

I’ve sterilised jars, prepared my vinegar and crooned over the additions like an alchemist. Enough peppercorns? Too much mustard seed? A few more chilli flakes perhaps? I even picked the last of my dill flowers especially a few days ago, before the rain flattened everything, to add to the jars.

And so they are done. Behold the magnificence of these island grown pickles.

Picklification is now complete.

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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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Winter dreaming

Working for a Publishing House means that I’m privileged to be surrounded by books of every kind in my normal day.

Books have always been a huge and important part of my life, and husband and I probably have a collection of many thousands between us, which we are going to have to prune out to more manageable levels before we move to the croft.

Having said that, there are some classics that I’d never part with. I fell in love with the River Cottage handbook set many years ago. I’m a sucker for a well bound hardback, and these little books in their sturdy covers are just the right size for a small shelf in the corner of the kitchen or to pop in your pocket on a walk through the countryside.

Covering everything from shoreline foraging to home brew, cheese making and jams, they’re a great entry level into each of these worlds, leading on to more specialist reading for any specific area of interest.

I’m looking forward to having the time and space over the winter months on the Croft to curl up by the wood burner and plan and dream with these old friends.

After all, as Neil Gaiman said, “A book is a dream that you hold in your hands”.

So true.

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Pantry Envy

I’ve always been a bit of a food preserver, despite living all over the world and having enjoyed the limitations of many kitchens. Given half the chance I’m one of those people who rather than waste anything will pickle it, make jam out of it, or dry it for future use. My idea of heaven is a well stocked shelf groaning with jars of vegetables, pickled cucumbers, jams, marmalades and dried pulses, legumes and mushrooms. I’m at my happiest with a few months supply in the house, available in case of an emergency.

In all my years of cooking, I’ve never had a pantry, although it’s something I’ve always wanted. I’ve made do with shelves on an old pine bookcase, or a cupboard in the utility room. Somehow, although that’s perfectly ok and totally suitable as long term food storage, it doesn’t satisfy this strange, deeply seated craving for a pantry.

In my minds eye in our forever home I see a small, cool room with shelves either side of the door, and cupboards beneath a stone work service. The shelves are neatly stacked with jars of preserved produce, like many-coloured jewels. Crocks of flour, jars of dried beans and pulses and dried ingredients of every kind line the shelves, ready for the next power cut or the onset of the next zombie apocalypse.

I’m not sure where this came from. I know that modern houses don’t normally include these things within their open-plan design, and that this desire would mean sacrificing space for something else (not the boot room, obviously).

But I’m going to try and find a way….