FRANCE THE DELICIOUS (UHG ON TOUR PART THREE)

Climbers on this classic multi pitch sport route; the best route we climbed                UHG

‘When it comes to camping there are many choices. To pillow, or not to pillow? To shave, or not to shave? In my opinion an air mattress that requires a pump is definitely out, however there is one thing that is for sure: you want quick simple meals that you cook in a single pot.’

A quick, simple one pot dish. The bread mop helps clean the dishes                                                                                  UHG

Laura and I had come to France to rock climb. Now the thing about climbing is the lighter you are the better you climb: it’s a power to weight ratio thing. France is the home of sport climbing; it also probably has the world’s best food. Serious climbers are skinny and very careful what they eat. Thank heavens we are not serious climbers. We cashed in on the best value breads, cheeses, cured meats and paté around. The locals are eating this stuff every day and they seem to be remarkably slim and healthy (what do you say to that Tim Noakes?)

Our standard lunch eaten off the bouldering pad                            UHG

The brilliant breads seem to be the very fabric around which everyday French cuisine is based. I believe that by law there needs to a boulangerie (bakery) to serve even the smallest settlements (the state subsidises outlets that are not viable). Most of the breads seem to have a delicious crispy crust, which acts like protective packaging and makes the loaf robust. These loaves you can jam into a stuffed backpack, strap onto a bicycle carrier or carelessly toss onto a seat of a car. After collecting our daily loaf, not once could I make it back to our campsite without snapping off one of the nipples on the ends and popping it into my mouth- if I was feeling charitable Laura would be lucky to get the other one. Our stock lunch on the crags was bread (minus nipples), cured meats or paté, cheese and tomato.

Chanterelles                                                                                                                                                                            UHG

The cheese and cured meats (charcuterie) aisle in French supermarkets are extraordinary. The variety and quality available is better than any specialist shop you might find in Cape Town, yet the prices are very reasonable. Duck liver paté or paté de campagne and goats milk (chèvre) or a regional cheese became our firm favourites.

Oooo! another cep on the way to a bouldering site                                                                                                              UHG

FORAGING - Did you know that French pharmacies are obliged to identify foraged goodies, to let you know if it is poisonous or not? How splendid is that?! We ate foraged food every day. The best was picking ceps (porcini mushrooms) right under the very boulders we were grappling with in Fontainebleau. When it came to bouldering, the last part of our trip, I was thoroughly ‘burnt off’ (climbers’ talk for ‘my arse was kicked’) by Laura. After gathering the broken bits of my male ego she kindly dropped me off at Charles De Gaulle airport and we started our lonely journeys back home, her to Sheffield and me to Cape Town.

Laura showing me how it's done                                                                 UHG

A monumental thanks must go to Laura Evans. For a while now she has been a HUGE inspiration for my blogs. Not only does she have appreciation for good food, but her vast food knowledge amazes me (especially French food). I’m always drawing on her skills and instinctive grasp of what goes with what. Her keen foraging eye has at least doubled the variety and quantity of bounty on our foraging missions together. She has always been patient and gracious when I have gone off my nut on some crazy foraging frenzy. Laura has been editing and refining this blog for some time now. I also have to admit that on occasions I even use her ideas pretty much word for word in my writing, like in the first paragraph of this blog.

The climbing was brilliant                                                                                                Nadine

Finally Lor, thank you for being a great driver (except for that one occasion), ‘tour operator’, guide, French translator, but mostly for being partners in crime.

A Charlie in a pear tree                                                                                UHG

Tossing pears                                                                                         UHG

The Bracket Fungi, 'Beefsteak of the Woods'          UHG

Its uncanny how like steak these mushrooms are                                  UHG

Yummy with wild marjoram                                                                        UHG

Not a bad campsite                                                                                    Laura

Watercress from the campsite river                                                           UHG

                   Chanterelles, my new favourite mushrooms                                          UHG                     

STINGING NETTLE PIE (UHG ON TOUR PART 2)

‘Gently touch a nettle and it’ll sting you for your pains/Grasp it as a lad of mettle and soft as silk remains’.  (Aesop in Sean O’Casey’s Juno and the Paycock)

If you are careful or just plane silly you don't need gloves to harvest stinging nettles                                                 Laura

In England it seems that you are never further than a rotting apple’s throw away from an angry patch of stinging nettles. These little blighters can spoil a portion of your day, causing you to sting, itch and curse, but as much as they are very naughty, they are also terrific. They have amazing medicinal properties, but what makes me a big fan is that they are nutritious and delicious. Try to use the top four leaves: they are the most tender. Also, try to avoid the tips that are turning to seed as they are gritty.

Tender, green and slightly angry,  perfectly ready for harvesting    UHG

I advise using gloves when you harvest. However, if you take care and use your fingertips and thumb where the skin is thick, you ‘should’ be okay. Once, after a long session of harvesting and prepping with no gloves, I had a tingling feeling in my fingers that lasted well into the next day… it was not unpleasant, it was rather fun actually! As soon as the nettles are zapped by heat they lose their sting.

Laura brings my attention to wild marjoram, perfect with nettles        UHG

I use nettles in place of spinach or chard. Nettle soup is always a crowd pleaser, or mixed with a soft cheese as stuffing for pasta pockets. Try throwing a handful into stews or soups… the possibilities are infinite. However, I would avoid tossing fresh leaves into a salad, unless your mother in law is coming to lunch.

Ready for blanching                                                                                  UHG

So if you live in Blighty and are shy of a few greens for dins, why not nip out the front door - within a few blocks you should have the necessary stingers. You could buy a bunch of spinach at the supermarket, but that’s a bore.

Puffed up and proud. Can't wait to get stuck in…                                                                                                                 UHG                                                                   

Here is my latest little nettle creation inspired by the humble spinach and feta pie.

WHAT YOU NEED (serves 4)

(Trust me, the quantities of the ingredients don’t have to be precise: this is a rough guide)

- Stinging nettles or spinach/ chard, about 4 loosely packed handfuls

- Wild marjoram or oregano, the leaves of 2–3 sprigs roughly chopped

- 2 eggs, beaten (keep back a little for sealing and basting the pastry)

- Feta, a generous chunk mashed/ crumbed

- Nutmeg, a pinch

- Puff pastry, about 300g

- Salt and pepper to taste

WHAT TO DO

Tear the nettle leaves from their stalks, wash them well, then blanch in a pot of boiling water. Remove the nettles and let them cool in a strainer. Once cool, squeeze out any excess water and roughly chop. In a bowl, mix all the ingredients together (not the pastry though, that would be silly). Roll out the pastry and design your unique pouch for the filling (a rectangle flipped over does the trick). Seal your pastry pocket by using a little egg as glue and pinching the edges together to form an airtight join. Stab a hole or two through the top surface to let out any steam, brush with egg, pop into the oven at 200°C and bake until golden brown and flaky.

A simple salad from what is in the fridge is really all the company any pie needs                                                        UHG

Hopefully, when your guests tell you how daring you are, your chest will proudly puff up like the very pie itself.

                                      --------------------------------------------------------------------

BLACKBERRY & APPLE PIE (UHG ON TOUR)

Blackberry and apple pie, rustic and comforting                                                                                                                UHG

The mind boggles to think that one day you can be frantically stuffing your travel kit into bags in Cape Town and the next be peacefully stuffing blackberries into your gob, while dawdling along the South Downs in Sussex.

Careful not too squish them                                                                            UHG

Blackberries are everywhere and I’m visiting at just the right time: the berries are dark, plump and mostly sweet. The odd sour one causes your face to crinkle, but the sweetness and tartness all baked in a pie with wild apples is perfect.

Jumping for apples                                                                                                                                                                   UHG  

During an idle wander ‘in England’s green and pleasant land’ Laura and I filled a small tub with juicy blackberries. We also came across a surprising number of apple trees growing wild. The apples were those tart zingy ones perfect for cooking. Obviously it was PIE TIME…

WHAT YOU NEED

For the pastry

          250g plain flour

-       125g butter

-       Caster sugar to taste (I used about 1 tablespoon)

-       1 egg yolk (optional; makes the process easier)

-       A dash of cold water; only if pastry feels a little dry

-       A little milk for painting over the pastry

-       A sprinkle of sugar

Pastry takes a delicate touch                                                                                                                                                   UHG

For the mix   

3 large apples; peeled and cut into little chunks

-       About a cup and a half of England’s finest freshly picked blackberries

-       A shake of sugar

-       A few knobs of butter

WHAT TO DO

For the pastry

Cut cold butter into small cubes and rub into the flour using your fingertips until the mixture looks like coarse breadcrumbs (use a mixing bowl). Because I’m a rubbish outfit when it comes to making pastry, I use an egg yolk to bind the dough; if you are using a yolk, mix it into the ‘breadcrumbs’ using a fork until it is incorporated. Tip the mixture onto a flat surface and gently knead until you can form a smooth ball, but be careful not overwork it. Flatten it into a thick disk, wrap in clingfilm and pop into the fridge to let it relax for about half an hour.

Nip and tuck                                                                                                                                                                           UHG

For the pie mix

Peel and cut the apples into small chunks and pop into a pie dish (I used a 22cm one), add the blackberries and gently mix. Sprinkle with sugar (I don’t like too much) and evenly space a few nubbins of butter on top. Gently (and I say gently!) roll out the pastry on a floured surface until it is big enough to comfortably cover the top of the dish. Wet the rim of the dish. Now do what those celeb chefs do on the telly and carefully roll up the delicate pastry on the rolling pin. Transfer to the pie dish and unroll. Trim the overhanging pastry and pinch to seal the edge and stab a hole or two through the surface to stop it exploding. Finally, brush with milk, sprinkle with sugar and pop into the oven at 200°C for about 40 minutes or until golden and crispy. Share and enjoy a quintessentially English dish.

Twenty down, only another hundred to go…                                           UHG

Laura plucking an apple along the way from one of the many apple trees growing wild                                       UHG

STICKY GREEK LEMON AND YOGHURT CAKE

I even even dusted off my Mums most Greek looking table cloth for this pic. This is a good cake                    UHG

Here’s a delicious little something you can make while the lemons are ‘lemoning’ (as they are in South Africa at the moment).

Seeing as my last blog was about how to make yoghurt, I thought it timely that this recipe has yoghurt in it and is delicious served with a lavish dollop of it.

This recipe has been on a grubby sheet of paper that somehow, unlike my keys, refuses to get chucked or lost.  After posting consecutive lemon and yogurt blogs I decided: that’s it, I’m going to make this bloody cake and if it’s any good, I’ll write it up and toss the skanky piece of paper once and for all.  So I followed Chef Brigitte Hafner’s ‘Sticky Greek Lemon and Yoghurt Cake’ and the result was a delectably sinful cake.

Shiny, moist and rustic, too warm still…. patience                           UHG

It was so yummy that I made it few times in quick succession and tweaked it a little every time. Not because I thought I was cleverer than Chef Brigitte, but because I didn’t always have the necessary ingredients at hand.  I ran out of butter once, so used olive oil as a top up. This made our Greek cake all the more Greeky. I don’t have Grand Marinier, but do have my homemade Limoncello, so in that went. Another time I roughly ground whole almonds, coz there was no more almond meal about: this gave the cake a more rustic look and a pleasing texture. I must say that I was rather happy with the net result of these enforced tweaks, so this is my take on a jolly good recipe.

Zested, juiced and ready for the mix                                                                                                                                      Mans

WHAT YOU NEED

For the cake

150g butter, soft

100ml olive oil

200g castor sugar

4 eggs

Zest of 2 lemons

250g fine semolina flour

150g ground almonds

100g plain flour

2 tsp baking powder

150ml yoghurt

3 tbsp lemon juice

For the syrup

150g sugar

2 tbsp honey

250ml water

1 stick cinnamon

1 or 2 tots of limoncello (depending on how boozy you feel)

WHAT TO DO

For Cake

Pre-heat the oven to 170°C (if you have got a fan turn it off or if you can’t, pop a bowl of water into the oven to stop the cake from drying out). Beat butter and castor sugar until pale and creamy, now mix in the olive oil. Gradually add the eggs in one at a time until they are fully incorporated, then mix in the zest.

In another bowl sift in the semolina, the flour and baking powder. Add the ground almonds and gently mix these dry ingredients. Fold the dry mix through the egg mix, then fold in the yoghurt and the lemon juice. Pour the batter into a well-greased baking tin (about 20cm). Pop into the oven for 50-55 mins or until golden brown and a skewer comes out clean when stabbed in the middle.

For Syrup

Meanwhile, get going on the syrup. Bring sugar, honey, water and cinnamon to the boil. Let it simmer for a few minutes, add the limoncello and remove from the heat.

Homemade limoncello the obvious substitute                                                                                                                     Mans

To Serve

Take cake out the oven and let it cool slightly before carefully ladling over the hot syrup. Serve with a creamy mound of yoghurt.

Now that I have finally written up this recipe, I’m going crumple up that ugly piece of paper that has been lowering the tone of my kitchen and ‘basketball’ it into the bin, first go I hope…

Check out other relevant blogs

http://theurbanhuntergatherer.blogspot.com/2012/07/limoncello.html
http://theurbanhuntergatherer.blogspot.com/2014/07/how-to-make-yoghurt.html

HOW TO MAKE YOGHURT

This  mornings brekki - for the granola recipe, refer to the link at the bottom of this blog                                        UHG

Have you ever noticed that unless you go to a specialist store it is impossible to find full cream yoghurt? It’s either low fat, no fat or double cream. Whatever happened to good old plain full cream yoghurt (the yoghurt with one less process)? Sure, you can buy full cream yoghurt at a few fancy specialist shops, but it comes at an unfortunate price.

When the surface of the milk looks like this, turn off stove          UHG

I don’t usually like to shop at ‘Woolies’ (a posh chain store in South Africa, whose produce comes in a criminal amount of packaging). However, there are a few things I buy from them and full cream organic milk is one of them. It’s costly, but for me it’s worth it. Here’s the crux of the matter: if I buy ‘Woolies’ organic full cream milk and make my own yoghurt, it still works out just over half the price of the cheapest plain yogurt around, but it’s proper yoghurt, without the nasties like stabilizers, modified starch, sugar etc.

It’s dead easy to make- here’s how…

The wonderful Thembi helping me out and posing for a few pics                                                                                   UHG

WHAT YOU NEED (makes 1 litre):

Milk – 1 liter (skim, 2%, full cream or add extra cream – it’s up to you)

Yoghurt starter culture – 3 tablespoons

WHAT TO DO:

Bring the milk to almost boiling point. I turn my stove off when lots of little bubbles start to form (about 90°c). If you are like me, I suggest you don’t distract yourself with any other tasks while you are waiting for the milk to reach temperature. Too often I’m alerted by a disheartening sssshhhh sound together with the smell of burning milk… all a horrid mess. If you loose focus, fear not; you can still use what’s left of the milk to make yoghurt, if it’s not burnt.

Next, let the milk cool down to between 40°C - 50°C. I don’t use a thermometer: I give my hands a jolly thorough wash and if I can stick my finger into the milk and count to eight without having take it out, it’s ready for some culture. Pour the milk into a (sterilised) 1 liter jar and stir in the yoghurt. Pop the jar into a wonder bag. If you don’t have one, carefully cocoon it in a few pillows. But don’t move its cozy nest or you’ll disturb the setting process! After about 8 hrs you will have a jar of creamy goodness.

A double batch on the way                                                                      UHG

Check out the links at the bottom of the page for blogs featuring Thembi

All they need now is a cover and some time incubating                     UHG

Check out these blogs featuring Themb
http://theurbanhuntergatherer.blogspot.com/2013/01/samp-and-beans.htmlhttp://theurbanhuntergatherer.blogspot.com/2013/07/khayelitsha-wonder-bread.html
http://theurbanhuntergatherer.blogspot.com/2013/02/wonder-bread.html

For the granola recipe, refer to this bloghttp://theurbanhuntergatherer.blogspot.com/2012/05/damn-fine-granola.html

LEMON CURD

A jar of deliciousness with a rustic homemade loaf. A big warm hug in depths of winter.                                       UHG

As we enter the teeth of our grey and soggy winter, the beaming yellow lemons on my tree reminds me that everything is going to be ok; that the sun will shine again…

Lemons, a reason to be bright                       Mans

Shop-bought ones are just not the same    Mans

I love the lemons on my tree; they are not like those perfect ones without pips that you buy at the posh supermarkets. You know the ones that come in a fancy plastic packet that are all the same shape and size, that have a waxy sheen and a disappointing amount of juice. The ones off my tree are grizzled and gnarled, tiny and huge, peppered with pips and pregnant with juice.

During the next few months, I bet you that some South African gardens will be littered with rotting knobbly ones, waiting to be squelched between someone’s unsuspecting toes, while inside the same homes are bowls of boring shop-bought ones displayed on dining room tables. I dare you to own up if that’s you! I promise you won’t get into trouble…

Loads of juice…                                                                                                                                                                         Mans

Try this delicious lemon curd recipe. It even works with the clones, devoid of any character.

What you need

-          - juice of about 5 lemons (about 250ml)

-          - zest of 1 lemon (optional)

-          - 500g of white sugar

-          - 4 or 5 eggs; whisked (depending on size – what happened to small, medium, and large? It’s just large, extra large and jumbo these days. Hmmmm?)

-         - 125g butter

What to do

Chuck all the ingredients into a double boiler on a medium heat. Stir continuously until the mixture thickens and coats the back of a spoon. Take it off the heat and cool immediately in a bowl of ice (you don’t want scrambled eggs, do you?) For extra smoothness you might want to strain the mixture through a sieve, but only if you want. Bottle in sterilized jars. Store in the fridge and chomp within a couple of weeks. You should get about 2 x 450ml jars of deliciousness. 

Grizzled, gnarled, knobbly and bursting with juice.                                                                                                         Mans

Finally – check out an old blog of mine about my beloved lemon tree. http://theurbanhuntergatherer.blogspot.com/2012/09/living-under-lemon-tree.html. Definitely my most daring one. What was I thinking… what am I thinking now?

KEI APPLES (SPIKY SEASON PART 3)

Kei Apples                                                                                                                                                                                  UHG

Those of you who know me or have been following my blog will know that I’m a chronic attention seeker. I just cant seem to help myself. When I went to collect some Kei apples from a spot I have been told about my excitement started to bubble like fruit in a jam pot, as I saw an opportunity to show off. I know that you won’t believe me, but the only ripe fruit that hadn’t already been plucked from the tree was out of reach, so to collect a bowl of fruit required some sign climbing. The showing off was incidental, or at least that's the story I’m sticking to.

My new and exciting secret spot, just don't tell anybody                                                                                               Laura

'Mind the gap'                                                                                                                                                                           Laura

The 'proper' name for Kei apples is Dovyalis Caffra. ‘The pejorative botanical term ‘caffre’ invokes the history of colonization on the frontier of the Cape colony. This fruit is indigenous to southern and eastern Africa and ‘Kei’ apples draw their name from the river in the Eastern Cape, which marked the boundary of the conquered territories for much of the nineteenth century.’ So writes our resident historian and in this case part time photographer, Dr Laura Evans. They are known in isiXhosa as umkokola.

Kei apricots?                                                                                                                                                                            UHG

Sticking with the spiky season theme, Kei apples are fiercely guarded by their vicious thorns, and the branches were/ are used as barriers to contain livestock and to keep intruders out. The fruit is more like an apricot than an apple in appearance, texture and flavor. If picked fresh they are mouth-puckeringly sour and unless perfectly ripe are challenging to chomp without a crinkled face. You might think that simply poached in sugar and water they would make a fine and simple dessert, but, as I found out, this is not so. After only a few minutes of cooking they seem to collapse into an orangey mush, so they are best suited for jams, jellies and syrups. If eaten fresh, try them quartered and sprinkled with sugar. I might add that the pips add a crunchy pop, which is rather fun.

Not the same tree!                                                                                       UHG

Spiky season                                                                                            UHG

Ready for jamming                                                                         UHG