Kentish Cobnuts

Kentish Cobnuts are a all too rare find. A presidia food in the SlowFood Ark of Taste, there were 7000 acres in Victorian times, now they number 200 and falling.

August brings green coconut scented Cobnuts, but it is September they peak, with the starch turning sweet, yet with a still milky flesh.

Cobnuts, a type of hazel, are delicious toasted, tossed into salads (Perhaps with some juicey orange segments and mint), or just eaten as they are. My favourite use is in a cob-nut pesto, smeared over some Salt Marsh Lamb, a nutty herby contrast to to the sweet tasting meat.

Buying these fantastic nuts prevents the grubbing up of a small corner of sun-dappled traditional England, of wood being coppiced, of nuts collected. One only hopes that it is not already too late to save them.

Cob nut “pesto”

Good fist-full of herbs  (Basil – though add Thyme or Rosemary for Lamb, Tarragon for Chicken, Dill for fish )
Half a fist-full of toasted Cobnuts
Three or four smashed garlic cloves
Grated Lord of the Hundreds (Or other hard English cheese, or even Parmesan)
Hemp Oil (Or other mild oil)

Either in a pestle and mortar grind the herbs and garlic together, using sea- salt to help grind it down, or add to a food processor. Either way, grind to a paste, before adding your grated cheese and crushed cobnuts. Add oil – far more than you think – to get to a thickish paste. This will store in the fridge in a small Kilner if you layer some more oil on the top to prevent the herbs discolouring. Otherwise use hungrily, immediately.

Other good things for cobnuts? Place in a mould and with fat raisins and pour over milk chocolate, or pour over a dark caramel, leave to set and smash into pieces. Try to save some for later.

Posted in July | Leave a comment

Plums, Damsons & Bullaces

Plums are a joy, and a fruit perfect for the English Clime. They give us pretty blossom in May, and sweet, fudgy fruit in September. Evesham is the heartland of the British Plum with dozens of orchards, growing hundreds of varietals.

Damsons, often available in August, are a particular tart plum, and bullaces, small green bloomy wild plums, are also abound in the Autumn hedgerow. All can be used in much the same way. Plums make a fantastic jam, slightly soft-set, if you boil 1kg of plums with 750g of sugar, and the juice of half of lemon. This becomes even more special, if a fist-full of crystallised ginger is roughly chopped and added as the jam comes to setting point. Poured into pretty jars, they look like squirrelled jewels – which in effect they are.

Damsons and bullaces make great fruit Gin. Take a large Kilner Jar (Savoury’s best friend), and add 500g of fruit. Wash them, tear the fruit open, and remove the stones. Drop them into the jar with a good squeeze – the idea if for the juice to flow. Add 200g of  sugar, and a thick syrup will probably be made even before you add a bottle of gin.  Try something not too Junipery here – skip  the Gordons, Plymouth all the way. Shake your jar, and every day for a couple of weeks, the Gin turning a deep purple. You can decant it after three months, but will have even more  depth of flavour if you can keep it for longer.

The decanting brings it’s own treat… gin soaked fruit… dip into molten dark bitter chocolate, for a very private, but delicious moment

Posted in September | 1 Comment

Feathered Game

There will be many, I am sure, who will be surprised to see The Red Grouse, listed in September, rather than August, the month of the Glorious 12th and the start of the shooting season of this majestic bird.

Whilst it is true that cordite will be in the summer air in North Yorkshire and Scotland, these plucky birds are best hung, and with prices at £35 a brace at the start of the season only really become affordable after the initial rush.

Truely wild, Red Grouse only live on heather, in managed moorland – the UK has 90% of the global habitat – and it is because of these birds that we have rolling moors in which to walk our dogs.

Grouse eat young heather, and hide and nest in older heather – this means the Keepers burn the moorland in rotation, meaning that it does not revert to a giant scrub, overcome with Elder and Gorse.

With a flavour not disimilar to gamey Campari, these birds really are treat, but so too are their feathered freiends the Pheasant, which is much more organic chicken like in flavour.

Pheasants are released into the wild as chicks, but otherwise fend for themselves – both birds forage for their food, fly about, and generally have a fantastic life until falling from the sky. This means both have super lean meat, and some thought needs to be given how to cook them.

Young birds of both (Check for a nice pliable beak and claws) can be roasted in a hot oven, well barded with bacon fat, or caul. Roast fast and furious for maybe twenty mins (Grouse) to forty (Pheasant) and check for done-ness. A little pink is a good sign, hungry reader.

With Grouse costing £10 a pop, this is a treat indeed – I’d serve it on a crouton, smeared with it’s own roasted liver, and something tart on the side – some late Scottish Raspberries roasted with honey maybe. Game chips and some ferric watercress are always a good thing too.

Pheasants are very cheap – as little as £5 a brace, means that this is a cheap supper indeed, cheaper than a broiler chicken almost. Roast it, and eat with stuffing, roast Squash, and cabbage, enlivened with cream and some chilli.

If your Pheasant is older – the season runs from September to January – or is a Cock Pheasant, then they make a fantasic Pheasant-au-Vin. Just remember, never cook with anything you wouldn’t drink at the table, and then all you need on the side is some very buttery Mash.

Posted in September | Leave a comment

Cherries

There is something particularly special about English cherries, from the majestic trees with their candy-floss blossom, to their deep sweet fruit.

I am without doubt that English cherries are the finest one can eat, and like most good things their season is short – their peak being July until mid August.

There are many good things to do with cherries, a French clafoutis is always a joy, as is a simple white bowl, with a generous jug of cream…. please let there be cream. Your cherries maybe deep claret coloured or egg-yolk yellow, but regardless all will yield fragrant juice to be savoured like the finest of wines.

But my cherry glut, like most of my gluts, has found it’s way to my inner squirrel, and instead formed the basis of an incredible Cherry Brandy.

A kilo of the very ripest cherries, was stoned, and hand squeezed into a Kilner jar, topped with 100 grams of caster sugar, the juice so prolific that it dissolved the sugar alone. This cherry syrup was then topped with a litre of VSOP Cognac, and the fruits steeped into the liquor.

It sleeps, next to my other jars of stored summer, turning the wood-brown Cognac a deep burnt red, ready to be decanted into a bottle and drunk on short days when cherries seem so very far away.

Posted in August | Leave a comment

Shallots

Shallots for the uninitiated are merely baby onions. How far this is from the truth – at base they are entirely different species, but more prosaically they taste and behave in a totally different manner.

Shallots easily shed their papery skins, and you’ll often find your paper bag full of amber-brown confetti, their scent pungent and full of promise. Their season starts proper in July, but it is now, in August they appear in great number, before their sad-farewell in September.

Feted by the chef, for their deeper flavour, meaning two shallots can take the place of a single onion, I am also devoted to them pickled. Topped and tailed, papery skins billowing on to the floor, eyes streaming, packed tightly into a Kilner Jar, they look like a savoury sweetie jar.

I like my pickles with some toothsome crunch, so I pour over cold vinegar rather than hot, Sarsons for no other reason than that is what my Grandmother used, and spices to what I have at hand: peppercorns, chillis, coriander seeds, and cloves.

To be left to sleep, and steep, until an Autumnal ploughman’s makes it call.

Posted in August | Leave a comment

Broad Beans

Broad Beans are perhaps my favourite bean, yes Borlotti in their jewel like splendour are prettier, Cobras more uniform on the eye, but the Broad Bean is a special bean indeed.

Planted over-winter, they withstand all the weather throws at them, flowering in Spring with the most heady perfume, brightening the gloom of slate-grey allotment afternoons as much as summer scented Stock crowns sunset in August.

At their peak now in July, I bought fistfuls for next to nothing, heavy pods, waiting to be split open with a thumb nail, just like a Kit-Kat of old, to reveal fat plump beans resting on vegetal white ermine. It is a time consuming, but happy time opening the pods, best done with R4 burbling away as aural wallpaper, and better still a glass of something cold in the hand.

Broad Beans love things piggy like a Heroine seeks her Prince in a Barbara Cartland novel. I already have dry cured smoked bacon gently puttering in the pan, with a little extra smokey fat rendering down, diced shallots turning golden as the beans tumble in.

It needed nothing more than some torn thyme, and a heavy-hand-with-the-cream to let everything marry in the pan. Slowly, the sauce  thickened to a white sticky smokey coating, and a brilliantly simple supper became a feast.

To be eaten as a hot salad, for scooping up with bread, for pasta or eating as it is, hungrily from the pan.

Posted in July | Leave a comment