"Faites Simple" - Escoffier
"the avoidance of all unnecessary complication and elaboration" - Elizabeth David
I tried growing fennel again this year. It bolted last year and again this year in the polytunnel. I have concluded that it is difficult to grow which is what someone told me before I tried last year, so I must remember to listen to more experienced gardeners in future.
Anyhow, this fennel came from a shop. As did the bream and the cherry tomatoes. And what follows is in my opinion one of the best and easiest ways to eat fish. Probably best with something like a bass or bream. The "recipe" uses whole cleaned fish (heads and tails on in my opinion but I guess you can have taken them off if you're squeamish).
Take a roasting tin and drizzle with olive oil. Throw in sliced fennel and cherry tomatoes, plus a couple of pieces of lemon peel and some lemon juice. Toss thoroughly and spread out to create a layer on which to put your fish. You could probably add peppers and/or new potatoes too, though you would have to watch for how long the potatoes need to cook.
Score the outside of your fish c. 3 times on each side and rub some good sea salt in. Stuff the fish with coriander - if you have enough you can also stuff the scoring. Lay the fish on top of your vegetables and drizzle with olive oil. Bake in a hottish oven (200-220 degrees centigrade) for 20 minutes or so.
By way of Crunchy Chicken and arduous. And because I am lacking originality tonight in particular. (Oy, no heckling at the back!)
A - Age: 43
B - Bed size: King - I think. Long is more important than wide - see below.
C - Chore you hate: Oh there are sooooo many but probably something between wiping daughter's bum and clearing out the bokashi bin.
D - Dog's name: No dog. We had a cat. We have chickens. Not really dog people.
E - Essential start your day item: Coffee. Freshly ground, espresso, made by Tom.
F - Favorite color: Too many to choose. Green is good though not on me. More on the hills.
G - Gold or Silver or Platinum: Silver.
H - Height: 6 feet. Though I am probably shrinking.
I - Instruments you play: Flute once. Not well. I'm pretty good with an I-pod.
J - Job title: Haven't got one. Because I refuse to be a housewife or a SAHM or a homemaker. Which is probably what I am.
K - Kid(s): Two quiet cheeky funny clever good girls.
L - Living arrangements: 4 bedroom barn. Solid stone walls. Huge rooms. Beams. Not ours but we love it.
M - Mother's name: Charlotte. Hence second daughter's name.
N - Nicknames: They never seem to stick which given what Tom comes up with is a good thing. Otherwise Ellie, which is kind of obvious.
O - Overnight hospital stay other than birth: None
P - Pet Peeve: Bitterness. Negativity. And sulking. Mostly sulking. If there's a problem, then say so. Otherwise get over it!
Q - Quote from a movie: "Calling Barranca". Also "Shed the chapeau". And "You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve".
R - Right handed or left handed: Right.
S - Siblings: I had a sister. She is still in my heart and head every day. And I have a half-brother I have never met, nor will I, I suspect.
T - Time you wake up: 7 ish to the Today programme.
U- Underwear: Usually. Yes.
V - Vegetable you dislike: Marrow.
W - Ways you run late: I don't. I am almost always early even when I think I'm late. I'm only late because of other people who if they're going to stick around in my life soon learn.
X - X-rays you've had: Dentist.
Y - Yummy food you make: Yes I do. Often. Gooseberry fool tonight.
Z - Zoo favorite: Only really know one zoo - London. It's okay but I don't like zoos.
You've seen it on film many times before. Alan Ladd against Jack Palance in Shane. Errol Flynn and Basil Rathbone fighting it out on the stairs in Robin Hood. David against Goliath. Well okay the chicken wasn't actually that big. And I was aiming to capture her alive.
Sam the errant chicken has been broody in a hedge somewhere and has taken to sleeping al fresco. Having a chicken lay her eggs where I can't find them, and leave herself vulnerable to foxes overnight, while expecting me to feed her is a bit much. So clearly something had to be done.
My tactic today was to make sure all the other chickens were stuck in the run. Suzanne (my chicken expert) suggested that Sam the lone Maran might be tempted back to the hen house by the others. So I wandered around the field and than practically stepped on her. Top marks for observation there, Sherlock. Yesterday the field had been "topped off" and Sam's nest was exposed. In fact it was almost mown. There she was right on the edge of a thistle bed sitting on around 8 eggs. She left sharpish and I collected the eggs which all failed the float test and have therefore been disposed of.
Not much later I managed to get her to come to the house for some food and then when she wasn't looking, grabbed her and shoved her in the back entrance of the house. This was harder than it sounds, involved much lurking and really I could have done with a net. But eventually I won. So now we have seven chickens in the run. Seven cross chickens. And I will admit to feeling a little guilty about six of them as they have been behaving themselves. But if Sam is going to learn to go to bed in safety and lay her eggs where I can get them then they've all got to suffer for a bit.
The prodigal daughter/chicken returns.
I thought I was seeing double today but no, there are two Marans again. Bossy difficult Maran also known as Sam is back, after an absence of two weeks. So not in a fox but rather probably broody and sitting on a clutch of hedge-laid and very well hidden unfertilised eggs. As she's a chicken, she isn't saying where she's been, who with or what she's been up to - rather like a teenager.
I am suffering from blogger's block. Have been for weeks now. And the reason is that I decided for no discernible reason that I wouldn't write about something which has been dominating my thought processes. To whit, we are in limbo. I know it looks like we've made a wonderful move to a beautiful rural idyll complete with chickens, garden and preserving pan. And this is of course all true. However, we are also waiting to hear whether Tom (and the rest of us) are going to get a visa to live and work in the States for the next three years. Now while I am fairly decisive - never known to hesitate over a menu, can choose a new car in an hour or so - the US Immigration Service is slightly slower. Which is of course understandable and just as it should be, but also, rather frustrating.
So here we are in limbo. I don't know if I'll be here or in San Francisco, in November. I haven't bought anything for the house for weeks and weeks, I debate over whether to book the girls into after school classes in September, I even wondered whether to plant another row of parsnips. Mind you, my friend Nicki, now resident in Canada but previously of N16 London fame, reminded me that she was in limbo for over two years. Rather put things in perspective.
The garden has started producing food in quantity. Yesterday we had our first Charlotte potatoes which were as always delicious and slug free which is very gratifying. We also had broad beans which are currently producing lots, though it always seems so much more before you pod them. And lastly there was ruby chard and spinach wilted in yoghurt.
Meanwhile, the polytunnel has bolting lettuces galore - a bit warm in there now I think, and lots of healthy looking tomatoes with lots of flowers. However I discovered late last week that it is a trifle sterile in there so there aren't nearly as many tomatoes forming as I'd like to see. Now we're opening both doors during the day and I went round with a brush doing a bit of artificial fertilisation as well. Hopefully this will improve the crop.
Outside the courgettes are coming along and are flowering. So it shouldn't be too long before we're eating them. There are few things as magnificent as a large and healthy courgette plant.
It's either Sam or Ella, so a Maran and the bossy one. Head of the flock. And producer of the loveliest dark brown eggs. Also rather bad-tempered. She vanished some time on either Thursday or Friday and there is not a trace. Not even a satisfied and plump looking fox to give us a clue as to her fate. We do think a fox got her. We are being philosophical. The chickens have been a bit lost without her, so I'm wondering who will get promotion.
Posts
