Worcestershire Pearmain Apple

Autumn is here. Summer is wonderful, and I have no complaints when September has Indian Summer weather and the carefree summer vibe can linger on. That said, I do love the cosiness of autumn and find a kind of security in the rhythm of autumn days- the best kind of a back-to-school feeling despite being well past school age, with the added promise of evenings curled around a bottle of red wine and snuggling up against the cold.  Part of this romantic ideal of autumn for me is apple season.  I eat at least one apple every day throughout the year but admit that a fair proportion of these are imported from the reliable sun of South Africa when apples are out of season over here.  Now that it's mid-September, however, there is no excuse for such flagrant disregard of food miles.

I stumbled across several different varieties of English apples in the greengrocer's last week and selected one that appealed visually (and didn't yield to a gentle check of firmness..) This was the Worcestershire Pearmain.  Moderately sized and red and green-skinned, these are known for their strawberry flavour; see http://www.orangepippin.com/apples/worcester-pearmain for more details.

I only found out about the strawberry in the course of researching this post, but I did  taste floral and red fruit elements in this variety of apple.  The flesh was relatively crisp- to give an indication of where it falls in terms of red apples I'd say not as crisp as a Braeburn but crisper than your average Pink Lady.  It wasn't powdery at all which pleased me.  It was moderately juicy and with the tastebuds of faith I'd say I can see why people might describe the flavour as strawberry-like.

It pleased me to find this example of seasonal local produce, or at least produce from this country.  I've decided that I've been quite generous with my ratings and maybe need to be a little harsher, so this is getting 6/10.

Poulet au vinagire

Following a decision to expand the range of herbs that I cook with, I went to The Mothership's herb garden for inspiration. I hadn't used much tarragon before so I found a recipe that called for it. This is Delia Smith's adaption of 'poulet au vinaigre'.

The tarragon complemented the chicken well. Its flavour is difficult to describe, I'd say that once cooked it was partly reminiscent of lemon, raw green pepper and maybe a tiny bit of aniseed. I think the tarragon I used was Russian Tarragon which is inferior to French Tarragon. From doing some reading about this it seems like French Tarragon is a very particular plant and needs a fair amount of attention for it to flourish. The tarragon in the garden seems to be growing very happily without any special treatment, plus I think it didn't give as much flavour to the finished dish as French Tarragon should.

This version was 6/10 but I will try it with French Tarragon (and without burning it) and see if this elevates the score.

For anyone who has, or aspires to have, their own vegetable/herb garden, I was interested to read that not many pests like tarragon and growing it amongst other plants helps keep the pests away from these too.

Here is the recipe I used:

From Delia's Summer Collection: Chicken with Sherry Vinegar and Tarragon Sauce

For 4 generous portions

1.75 kg chicken, jointed into 8 pieces
150 ml sherry vinegar (I used white wine vinegar)
425ml medium-dry Amontillado sherry
12 shallots, peeled
4 cloves garlic, peeled
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp fresh tarragon leaves plus small sprigs of tarragon to garnish
1 heaped tbsp creme fraiche
salt and pepper to taste

Heat the olive oil in a large frying pan, while doing this season the chicken pieces with salt and pepper.
Fry the chicken pieces until golden brown (this is best done in two batches) then remove these to a plate.
Add shallots and garlic to the pan until these are slightly brown.
Turn the heat down, put the chicken pieces back into the pan with the shallots and garlic, scatter the tarragon leaves into the pan and add the sherry vinegar and sherry. Pour glasses of sherry for the people you are cooking for and yourself too, enjoy.
Let the contents of the pan come up to a simmer, then turn the heat down until barely simmering.
Leave for 45 minutes, turning the chicken pieces halfway through this time. The sauce will reduce during this time.
Do keep checking there is still some sauce, don't leave it and go and enjoy a summer's evening in the garden with everyone else and plenty more sherry as I did, or you risk the sauce starting to 'caramelise' and yourself starting to marinade in sherry.
Remove the chicken pieces, shallots and garlic from the pan onto a warmed serving plate. Whisk the creme fraiche into the remaining sauce and season to taste. This still works if the sauce has started to catch a bit, as I found out!

Serve with new potatoes, or rice, or whatever you fancy. As the picture shows, in my slightly inebriated wisdom I had decided to add diced carrots to the rice part way through cooking the rice.

Bakewell Pudding

A camping holiday in the gorgeous surroundings of the Peak District was not going to be complete for me without a pilgrimage to Bakewell.  This was the birthplace of the Bakewell Pudding, made even more famous (particularly to masses of southerners) by Mr Kipling's Bakewell Tart.  I know their pastry tastes of cardboard.  I know you can feel the icing corroding your teeth as you bite through it.  I know the almond flavouring was what Agatha Christie had in mind every time she described that tell-tale almond scent of cyanide.  Despite all this I am quite partial to these, especially the newish Bakewell Slices they do as this equates to more almondy goodness with less pastry. 

Back to Bakewell: The Blonde and I were in an outdoor kit shop when the very friendly shop assistant started chatting to us about our plans.  She explained to us that a Bakewell Tart was the variety topped with icing and a cherry, but that 'pudding' referred to the true Bakewell delicacy.  She also told us where to go to find one, and the story behind the origins of the Bakewell Pudding. 

According to her, there was already a pie which featured a layer of almond filling topped with jam.  A maid at the Rutland Arms hotel in Bakewell once made the mistake of putting the jam into the pastry first and the almond mixture on top.  The resulting pie was serendipitously better than what was intended and the Bakewell Pudding was born.

We were also advised where to go to buy a truly authentic Bakewell Pudding- The Bakewell Pudding Shop is one of these places and off we went to get a pudding.

By the time we ate it, the paper bag it came in had turned translucent which left us in no doubt about the health credentials of this treat!  Aesthetically the pudding wasn't that impressive.  Nicely burnished on top but otherwise all the same shade of pastry beige. 

The crust was flaky pastry, rather than the shortcrust we were anticipating.  I think the jam layer was plum jam, at any rate the sweet fruitiness was complemented by a a hint of a woody/bitter note.  The almond topping was quite custardy, rather than the sponge cake-like affair used by Mr Kipling.

I enjoyed it, and think it merits 7/10.  It was quite aptly less synthetic and more subtle than the tart version.  It was also more filling, due to the fat content no doubt! 

In the course of researching the Bakewell Pudding further for this post, I've discovered that it should be served warm.  As with most pastry dishes this would make the pastry seem lighter; it would also make the filling less dense and I think maybe elevate the Pudding up to 8/10.

Fantasy spot for post-hiking supper? It's a Shoe Inn

I'm not sure how much, if at all, the name of this establishment is intended to be a pun, but it was definitely exactly what we were looking for.

Last weekend The Whisky Fiend, The Modeller and I took on the South Downs Way between Winchfield and Petersfield.  We camped near Exton, and the owner of the farm where we camped recommended The Shoe Inn for food, and even gave us a lift there.  We were footsore and hot and  appreciated this kindness.

The Shoe Inn is the brilliant kind of pub where you'd feel equally comfortable whether you were in walking boots or dressed more smartly.  It has a beer garden leading down to a river which is where we sat.

A quick glance at the menu was enough to convince me that given our location South Downs Lamb was the only option.  I had a burger made with lamb and feta, which came between two mini flatbreads with rocket, tomato and aioli.  The mix between local and meditteranean/middle eastern influences had flair without being pretentious, mainly because it really did work.  The feta, rocket and aioli enhanced the flavour and sweetness of the lamb, and the flatbread was tasty and also functional in mopping up the  juices that came from the burger (a good one to eat outside as it eliminates the worries of making a mess!) It came with skinny fries and a salsa which were much needed after the day's exertion but totally overshadowed by the burger. 

The Whisky Fiend had a beef and 6X pie with roasted vegetables which was claimed to be excellent- I cheekily sampled it and can happily confirm this.  The Modeller had belly of pork which looked like it had the perfect meat:fat ratio.

We ordered a bottle of Malbec which I admit I can't remember much about except that the expected red fruit and slightly earthy flavours worked well with all of our food selections.  By the time we had explored some more wine and beer, and finished with whisky (what did we expect with The Whisky Fiend on board?) we were prepared for the walk home.  While walking back we saw fireworks being set off, and I also saw a shooting star, the first I have seen in the UK.

I'd love to tell you we navigated back by the stars, but you'd be amazed at what iPhones can do.  A photo of the lamb burger will be posted once The Whisky Fiend has emailled it to me.

The Chocolate Apothecary

Last weekend The Diver and I decided to do some exploraration on the Isle of Wight. A failure on both of our parts to grasp the finer principles of using a bus service led to an unexpected visit to Ryde.

Here we discovered 'The Chocolate Apothecary', a very promising looking wood panelled cavern lined with chocolate displays and a sign proclaiming "I'd give up chocolate but I'm no quitter."



http://www.chocolateapothecary.co.uk/index.html

Although the cafe looked a good place for hot chocolates etc we were ultimately in search of a lunch destination, so we settled for some chocolates to take away.


Here is what we got and the verdicts:

Salted Caramel- too fragile and gooey to go in a bad, these cups of golden goo had to eaten straight away (of course this was a hardship!) A nibble on the beautiful dark and white chocolate cup revealed the distressing cardboardy taste of inferior chocolate. The caramel itself tasted exactly like manjar- this is a Chilean version of the Argentine favourite Dulce de leche, also known as banoffee toffee. While this was tasty, it was too sickly and did not have the subtlety of flavours I would expect from caramel.

43% Ghanian Chocolate truffles- The filling hit a good balance between sweetness and cocoa depth, was was marred again by the chocolate cup it came in; the excellent quality of the filling only highlighted the disappointment of the cup.

Hazelnut Praline Cups- the praline was very liquid, actually more like a thick syrup, and more translucent than would be expected from a classic praline. This meant the texture did not have that smooth crumble-richness I love so much, while the taste was something like a suary nutella. It also came in a chocolate cup which I have discussed above.

In summary, it rates at 5/10. The idea and shop front are great, but with the prices they charge they should definitely consider either enclosing chocolates in a thicker cup of better quality chocolate, or in paper cases. The possible small drop in aesthetic value would be far outweighed by allowing their fillings to shine, especially if that salted caramel is made more grown up.

English Wine

The Cyclist and I have just finished a 7 week course on Wine Appreciation, so when we saw English Wine on sale this weekend we decided that we should try some- in the interests of broadening our education, of course.





Frankly, it was a good job that we didn't buy with pleasure in mind, because it did turn out to be an exercise in wine tasting, rather than an overwhelming sensory experience.





The tasting team consisted of The Cyclist and myself, both enthusiastic amateurs in educated quaffing, and The Lollipop Lover, who claims not to like wine, but has been known to enjoy a glass or two of Desert Wine!





The wine was 'Lord Montagu of Beaulieu, Dry White Table Wine', produced in the New Forest. We bought it from the Gift Shop at Beaulieu.








We all gave it an overall rating of 3/10 [I will post my rating system on here soon!]


Looks: Clear pale yellow; all one shade


Nose: Clean. The Cyclist's first response was Honeydew Melon, I also got something that it took me ages to put a name to, but subsequently became convinced that it was the smell of cold roast chicken breast, with a metallic touch, almost like the chicken had been stored in tinfoil. There was also a slightly bready note. The Cyclist and The Lollipop Lover agreed that chicken smell was there!


Flavours: Tropical (Honeydew Melon); some Gooseberry; and something of the chicken smell (didn't actually taste of chicken!).


Sweetness: Surprisingly sweet for something billed as 'Dry'. The Cyclist and I both thought it was pushing the sweeter boundaries of off-dry. The Lollipop Lover thinks of Eiswein as medium sweetness, so happilyagreed with 'Dry'.


Acidity: Medium to high-possibly too much acid/not sweet enough to balance the acid.


Body: Medium


Length: Medium length, with something of a dry sherry edge to the aftertaste (we even got out the sherry to compare!).





I admit that I found the chicken association disconcerting. We had a long chat about what could be causing that flavour, and the use of sulphites was suggested. The Lollipop Lover has a background in analytical chemistry, however, and was dubious that sulphites would cause that taste. Guess a career in the detective branch of the wine industry is not for me, then!



For those of you keen to see a rave review of a wine, there is certainly one coming up, all about Malbec!