Autumn in Córdoba and a moment in Málaga

Wall painting detail in Alcazar, Cordoba

Could Cordoba possibly live up to my romantic ideal?  A cancelled flight that lost us a whole 24 hours was not an auspicious start, and arriving anywhere just too late for lunch is unacceptably bad planning. Instead of feeding our stomaches, we were forced to feast on the more cerebral glories of this former Roman capital of Hispania Ulterior and, 8 centuries later, Moorish Al Andalus.  The dry 30C heat of Andalucia  was welcome with the prospect of winter in London looming.  We dropped our bags at the welcoming Hospes Palacio del Bailio Hotel and went to explore.

Cuesta del Bailio, Cordoba

Cordoba has beauty around almost every corner.  White-washed or yellow ochre painted houses adorned with tumbling bougainvillaea or heavily-scented jasmine; cool, shaded courtyards; gardens; fountains; narrow winding lanes and the sudden reveal of a church, mosque or synagogue.  Moorish, Christian, Roman and Visigoth sit companionably alongside, and sometimes inside, one another.  Apart from the pleasures of simply wandering, there are a few unmissables.

Mezquita, Cordoba

La Mezquita is astonishing.  Visigoth, Moorish and Christian architecture come together to breathtaking effect. Get there between 08.30 and 09.15 to see it at its atmospheric best.  At 10.00 the tour groups arrive and admission charges come in.

Alcazar Gardens, Cordoba

The Alcazar is an impressive meandering fortress.  There's a surprisingly stark peaceful chapel with some beautiful mosaics and there are wonderful Moorish gardens.

Palace of the Marqueses de Viana

The Palace of the Marqueses de Viana is a 15th century mansion with 12 strongly Moorish-influenced gardens.  Lovingly cared for, it's a great place to escape the traffic.  On the subject of traffic, the car is king here even on the narrowest lanes, so be prepared to duck into doorways at a moment's notice.

The Almodovar Gate area,  Cordoba

La Juderia area is close to La Mezquita.  It's a maze of narrow lanes, but then most of Cordoba is like that.  It can begin to feel quite claustrophobic, especially when you come upon a tour group.  If you want to escape these clusters of folk who cling together like limpets, leave La Juderia at The Almodovar Gate, pass the statue to Seneca, and you'll come upon my favourite place in Cordoba.

Between the Medieval wall that enclosed the Jewish Quarter and a row of modest yet covetable residences you'll find a series of cisterns and runnels lined with Oleander.  It's a haven of peace and tranquility that few tourists seem to find. It's also that rare thing in Cordoba, a street where cars are not allowed.





Nearby stands the Roman Bridge …

Roman Bridge, Cordoba

The Roman Bridge forms part of Via Augusta and dates back to the 1st Century BC.  It's an impressive sight spanning the wide Guadaquivir river alongside a bird sanctuary.

Date palm, Cordoba

What about the food?  This is Spain, it's got to be good, right?  Well, I have to say we didn't fare too well. After some digging, we found a Mercado in Plaza Correderia.  Now, I have a theory that a town's food market is a good indicator of its restaurant scene and we found nothing to excite in either.  The ancient menu posted by the door is not something that attracts me either.  The fact that three restaurants on our short list had closed down would indicate a less than thriving dining out culture.  That said, the Bodegas Campos bar and restaurant at Calle de los Lineros 32, owned by the Campos wine company, is pretty good.

Tapas seems to be more appreciated in Cordoba and there are plenty of tapas bars that have been around for many years.  Casa El Pisto at Plaza San Miguel is a traditional place, popular and reliable.  One interesting development is a gastro market which opened this Spring.  Mercado Victoria is housed in the restored Casteta de Circulo, a wrought-iron pavillion on tree-lined Paseo de la Victoria.  Its focused stalls are working hard to attract a mixed crowd.  Buy a plate of freshly carved Bellota from one stall or some freshly fried fish from another.  Pick up a glass of wine or a beer, find a space to suit you and people-watch while you eat. It's a mixed bag but it's lively and fun already.

On to Malaga...

Market stall, Malaga

Malaga is only 50 minutes by fast train from Cordoba, but a world away.  Its market doesn't disappoint and it's not difficult to find a good restaurant.  We spent only a short time in Malaga on this trip but dinner at Refectorium at Calle Cervantes 8 managed to be old school and delicious (no website but there's a new, sleeker El Refectorium at Paseo de la Sierra 36).  The port area of Malaga has been beautifully revived and the City has it's soaring Cathedral and the simply wonderful Museo Picasso.  I'm sure I'll be back to explore the new Museo Carmen Thyssen and more.

Malagan fruits

It was in Malaga that we finally felt inspired to shop -  Malaga raisins, semi-dried figs and almonds, of course.

Did I leave Cordoba with my romatic ideals intact?  My advice is to visit Cordoba to feed the soul, but Malaga to feed the stomach.

Apples at last - Food Find

Brogdale apples at
Neal's Yard Dairy 2013

The English apple harvest is undoubtedly late this year, certainly a good two weeks behind last year.  My barometer for this is the arrival of the apple crates stacked in front of the Neal's Yard Dairy shops in Borough, Covent Garden and, this year, at Spa Terminus too.  In London we've been enjoying the early 'Discovery' apples from the excellent Chegworth Valley for some weeks now but you know harvest is in full swing when the myriad varieties grown at Brogdale in Kent start to arrive.  This week I packed my bag with 'St Edmund's Pippin' and nutty 'Norfolk Royal Russet'.

Varieties change by the week so it's a great opportunity to try just a few of the apples and pears which Brogdale, home of the UK's National Fruit Collection, grows. If you want to try more, Brogdale's annual Apple Festival runs this year on 19-20 October when they expect to have over 200 varieties ready to taste.

Related blog posts:
Neal's Yard Dairy and Brogdale Farm

Warm Plum & Citrus Compote

Warm Plum & Citrus Compote

Jane Grigson wrote in 1982 of the ubiquity of the Victoria plum.  Since 1840, when a stray seedling was found in Sussex, the Victoria has been grown for its qualities as a good cropper rather than for its flavour. Even today, more than 30 years on from publication of Jane Grigson's Fruit Book, we seem reluctant to acknowledge its inferiority and so we have reached a point where it's difficult to find other varieties of plum. That's not to say Victoria plums can't be made palatable by cooking, but to eat one straight from the tree is invariably disappointing.  Grigson agreed with Edward Bunyard  (Anatomy of Dessert).  He said, of plums intended to be eaten uncooked, that there was little "encased in red, black or blue" worth growing.

Neither Edward Bunyard nor Jane Grigson seem to have rated the dark, dusky Damson plum.  It is a personal favourite of mine, not just for making Damson gin.  In a Damson souffle its sharp, bitter qualities are hard to beat, but a yellow- or green-skinned plum is my first choice for most other plum dishes.  These range from the tiny intensely sweet Mirabelle, its yellow skin blushed with a fingertip of rouge as its season progresses, to the honeyed flesh of the green/gold Greengage.  I've previously written about Greengages so rather than repeat myself, here's a link to that post which includes a recipe for Plum Tart

The recipe below is based on A Warm Compote of Plums with Honey and Orange from The Art of Cooking with Vegetables by Alain Passard.  Unsurprisingly, Passard uses French Reine Claude plums (Greengage) for this dish, as do I.  The citrus fruit pairs surprisingly well with the Greengages.  However, I've found, if the plums are a little on the tart side, then the quantity of lemon needs to be reduced.

I think it's time I planted a Greengage tree.  Perhaps it should be a self-fertile 'Early Transparent Gage', or, better still, the elusive 'Coe's Golden Drop', if I can only find a source.

Warm Plum & Citrus Compote
(Serves 4-6)

1kg (2lb) ripe Greengages or other plums
40g (1½oz) salted butter (or unsalted with a pinch of salt)
2 tbsp caster sugar
2 tbsp runny honey
1medium unwaxed (or well-scrubbed) orange, cut into segments with skin intact
1 small-medium unwaxed (or well-scrubbed) lemon, cut into segments with skin intact

Choose a lidded frying pan large enough to eventually take the plums in a single layer. Gently melt the butter (and salt if using), honey and sugar in the pan, stirring to amalgamate.  Add the orange and lemon slices.  Partially cover with the pan lid and cook gently for 15 minutes. Wash the plums and add them whole to the pan in a single layer. Partially cover again and cook gently for 30-40 minutes - the fruit should be tender but not mushy.  Take off the heat, remove the lid and leave to stand for 10 minutes.  
Serve warm with vanilla ice cream or double cream.  An almond biscuit goes well too.

Gathering the last of the berries

Blueberry & Raspberrry Mascarpone Pot

On this day of the autumnal equinox the temperature is hovering around 20 degrees C throughout most of the UK.  Plums, apples and pears have made a welcome appearance but English blueberries are still in the shops and I can't be the only person to be still happily harvesting Autumn Bliss raspberries.  These two berries go together so well and need only the lightest sprinkling of sugar to marry the sweet of the raspberry with the slight tartness of British blueberries.

I have absolutely no idea where the recipe at the end of this post comes from.  It's one I've been making for years and, try as I might, I cannot discover its origin.  Having spent a happy hour searching through my favourite go-to books for inspiration on fruits does, however, give me the excuse to share a peek at the work of Patricia Curtan.  I have a bit of a thing about food illustrations and, if only I had the talent, I'd probably abandon photographing - and maybe even talking about - food, swapping it for the illustrative life.  One of my favourite artists is Patricia Curtan who's best known for her beautiful colour relief prints which illustrate many of Alice Waters' Chez Panisse books.  The two below appear in Chez Panisse Fruit by Alice Waters.  You can luxuriate in more of Patricia Curtan's work by going here 

Photo of Raspberries Illustration by Patricia Curtan
Chez Panisse Fruit by Alice Waters

Raspberries are not just for summer and they really are the easiest of fruits to grow.  The trickiest thing about raspberry canes is curtailing their ambitions - they love to spread their roots and produce new canes if you let them.  Planting an 'autumn' fruiting variety can extend the season right up to the end of September or even early October.  'Autumn Bliss' is a great choice, producing large flavoursome berries.  The canes start fruiting before 'summer' raspberries are quite over.

Photo of Blueberries Illustration by Patricia Curtan
Chez Panisse Fruit by Alice Waters

Blueberries are a fruit I've toyed with growing but they need light, free-draining, acidic ground to grow well. London clay won't do and I'm not a great fan of trying to change the pH balance of soil.  An alternative is to grow the plants in pots filled with ericaceous compost and apply a high potash feed.  There's still the problem that birds love them even more than raspberries.  Hmm, maybe one day I'll grow them but for now I'll leave it to the experts.

Here's the recipe.  It's got to be the easiest in my repertoire and perfect for when you have to knock up a quick dessert.  If anyone does recognise where it comes from, do let me know as I'd love to be able to attribute it.  If you have by now moved on from soft fruit, I think some stone fruit would work for this dish - a barely-sweetened compote of plums for instance.  The grill warms the fruits beneath the molten mascarpone just enough to bring out their fragrance.

Blueberry & Raspberry mascarpone pots
(Serves 4)

A 50/50 mix of blueberries and raspberries (quantity depends on the size of your ramekins)
250g mascarpone
50g demerara sugar

Wash the blueberries and mix with an equal quantity of raspberries.
Fill 4 ramekins to just below the top.
Spoon mascarpone over the fruit 
Sprinkle with demerara sugar.
Place ramekins under a hot grill until the topping starts to caramelise.

Serve with a crisp biscuit, if you like - an almond one will go well.

La Grotta Ices - Creating ice cream memories

Apricot & Nougat choc ice
La Grotta Ices

A battered copy of Chez Panisse Desserts by Lindsey Remolif Shere sits on the bookshelf.  That instant connection over a shared love of a book bodes well for my visit.  My own, admittedly less-well used, copy has survived house-moves and floods.  The pages of my copy have tell-tale marks of sticky kitchen adventures into the mysteries of curds and crepes , sherbets and soufflés.  The copy on this shelf bears the traces of more serious professional study.

I wrote about Kitty Travers a couple of years ago focusing on her influential ice cream making course at The School of Artisan Food.  Since then, despite the fact I buy ice cream from La Grotta Ices almost weekly, I've simply tweeted my addiction.  In the time following my course, Kitty Travers has been featured in more influential publications than mine, but I have the advantage, I think.  None of the writers can have given the ices quite such a thorough sampling!

La Grotta Ices
Flavour Board

So, in the interests of further research, I accepted an invitation - maybe with a tad too much alacrity - to visit the ice cream 'shed' of my dreams.  My friend, the hugely talented food illustrator Anna Koska joined me (examples of her work can be found at Anna Koska Illustration).  Aprons and hairnets donned, hands scrubbed and hygiene instruction received, we pitched in.

Four companionable hours of chopping and stirring, questioning and story swapping disappeared in the blink of an eye.  It was easy to see why Kitty finds this such a satisfying and rewarding way to spend her day.  Then it seemed only fair to leave her to get on with the real work. We felt very privileged to get our hands on such quality seasonal ingredients under such expert guidance.  Right now the fruits include peaches, nectarines, figs, autumn raspberries, blackberries and plums.

What's so special about La Grotta Ices, and why do I keep returning?  I'm really not into the sweet slipperyness of most ice creams.  What I do appreciate are top quality ingredients with a high fruit/low added sugar content.  I want vibrant, imaginative flavour combinations (that's imaginative, not wacky) for my ice creams, parfaits, sorbets and granitas.  So how about Blackberry & Violet; Melon & Jasmine; Gooseberry & Almond Nougat; Pink Grapefruit, Verjus & Bay; Peche de Vigne & Tomato; Chocolate, Mollases & Black Fig; or naturally sugar-free Apricot & Chamomile?  Some scary sounding combinations in that list.  In the right hands, it's an ice cream revolution and I'm very happy to be onboard.

Kitty has travelled profesionally from pastry kitchens to ice cream parlours, from London to New York via Nice and Rome.  After nearly four years in the kitchen of St John Bread & Wine, her life in ices began to take shape, initially out of a desire to recreate memories of her travels.  Starting out by selling at London Farmers Markets and pitching up outside Neal's Yard Dairy in her tiny Piaggio Van, she now sells most Saturdays from her 'hole in the wall' outlet at Spa Terminus in Bermondsey.   You might also be lucky enough to find her at various Fairs around London (Frieze Art is one that's coming up soon).

Mulberry Granita
La Grotta Ices

La Grotta Ices is about more than making ice cream.  Kitty Travers is an ice cream maker who wants to "create memories" via the medium of ice cream.  Well she certainly succeeded in re-creating one for Anna Koska this week.  It took just a spoonful of Raspberry & Fig Leaf ice to evoke a powerful sense of brushing past the fig tree in her beloved Sussex garden.  

La Grotta Ices
Unit 11 Dockley
Between Spa Road and Dockley Road
Bermondsey
London SE16 3SF

Saturday 9-2pm

Spa Terminus Producers and Map

LeCoq - London

LeCoq
Roast chicken & Caponata

After far too many lean years London has seen a spate of quality chicken restaurants opening in the last 2 years, from fried chicken in Brixton to chicken schnitzel in Soho.  Mostly they've left me cold.  The American chicken and 'slaw formula just doesn't do it for me - let alone the German twist.  The chicken joint I was looking for, it seemed, just didn't exist in London.  My dream place has a warm neighbourhood feel; the aroma of well-reared chicken turning slowly on a spit, potatoes beneath soaking up the chicken fat; something acidulous alongside to cut the richness; an uncomplicated, yet gutsy red wine to drink with it.  It seemed this was too much to ask of London.

Finally we have LeCoq, the perfect, no-booking, 40- (or so) seater, only a few doors down from Islington's excellent Trullo.  It's handily close to Highbury & Islington underground and in the rapidly developing food hub of N1.  I don't know if this is the chicken restaurant London has been waiting for, but it's definitely the one I've been craving.

LeCoq is owned by sisters Sanja (a founder of Salt Yard Group) and Ana (Bocca di Lupo, Rochelle Canteen) Morris.  Ben Benton left Stevie Parle's Dock Kitchen to head up the kitchen.  The menu is admirably simple.  A couple of starters, a main of rotisserie chicken served with something to complement and cut the fattiness, and two puddings.  Although focused firmly on chicken, the menu changes weekly and, on Sunday,s a different roast meets the flame of the rotisserie.

LeCoq
Ricotta, fig leaf, Strega ice cream

Starters, on our visit, were an artichoke dish and some Pico charcuterie but we'd already spotted the puddings so something had to give.  The chicken, cooked to juicy perfection, was firm-fleshed, the way well-reared outdoor chicken should be.  That day it came with a portion of knock-out caponata, a jug of juice and spoonful of tarragon mayonnaise alongside.  A side dish of potatoes and garlic cloves cooked in the chicken fat was more than worth its £3.75, a salad ordered proved unnecessary.  The house red, Nero d'Avola, at a very reasonable £4.50 a glass, was just right.  Puddings were a good Chocolate Tart scattered with honeycomb or a very good Ricotta, Fig Leaf and Strega ice cream (made for LeCoq by Sorbitum ices).

More about those chickens, as these things matter a lot to me.  The birds come from Kennel Farm in Sutton Hoo.  Slow-growing, fed an additive free diet and allowed to forage freely with plenty of room to stretch their legs (far more space than any EU law on "free-range" directs).  The quality shows on the plate. Two courses for £16, a couple of side-dish and a glass of wine each brought the bill to a very satisfying £47.25 excluding service.  That's what I call a bargain.  Added to which, the care taken over every aspect ensured a swift return is certain.

LeCoq
292-294 St Paul's Road
Canon bury
London N1 2LH
Open Tues-Sun 12-2.30pm & 6-10pm

PS  Takeaway coming soon.

Almond, Polenta and Lemon Cake with blackberry compote

Almond, Polenta and Lemon Cake
with blackberry compote

Blackberries, or brambles, are probably the most widely foraged foodstuff in the UK.  This is probably a dangerous claim as we seem to have rediscovered our passion for "foraging", but during their season it's hard to take a country walk and not come across someone picking blackberries.  Speak to any seasoned blackberry picker and they'll tell you they have a favourite spot they return to year after year.  That's not to say they'll tell you where it is - blackberry patches are jealously guarded - but it is the spot they will head for each year to try their luck.  That first picking is invested with more hope than expectation.  Will the fruit be plump or seedy?  Fit for a blackberry and apple pie or destined to be sieved for a fruit jelly?

Wild Blackberries

A late, wet start to spring has turned out to be perfect for fruit growing in the UK.  From gooseberries through berries, cherries and currants, all have cropped well this year.  Now plums and gages are starting to arrive and tasting sweet as nectar.  Apples and pears are expected to produce bumper crops too.  Right now it's the turn of wild blackberries, so much better than cultivated ones and they're free.  Foraging is by its nature anarchic but my own written rules are 'leave some for somebody else'.

Almond,  Polenta and Lemon Cake

Blackberry is a fruit I would never plant on my allotment.  It's a bit of a thug and will take over if you let it. Besides, wherever there is a bit of uncultivated land, there is likely to be a bramble patch.  Birds disperse the seeds very efficiently.  If you want a better behaved option, go for loganberry which is a cross between a blackberry and a raspberry.  If you do pick wild blackberries, folklore has it that you shouldn't take them after Michaelmas (29 September) as the Devil will have spat on them.  Superstitious or not, by the end of September in the UK you're unlikely to find berries you'd actually want to eat.

Almond, Polenta and Lemon Cake
with blackberry compote

My first pickings this year proved to be packed with juice, making the seeds barely noticeable.  Half of the berries were the basis for a classic apple and blackberry crumble.  The rest I warmed with a little sugar to enjoy as a compote which would be good, I thought, with a little almond 'something'.  I had almonds; I had polenta; and I had lemons.  With those ingredients, The River Cafe Cookbook was the first book I reached for. Their recipe for Torta di Polenta, Mandorle e Limone is the basis for the recipe below.  I know it's sacrilege, but I did change a few things.

Not wanting a cake as large as 30cm, I cut down the recipe to suit a 17cm x 6cm round tin.  It produced a beautifully light cake which is also gluten-free.  I found the lemon didn't come through quite enough for me so I increased the amount of lemon zest recommended.  I should mention the finished cake is fairly fragile so take extra care to prepare the tin.  The cake keeps well for a couple of days but it will lose its crunch.

Almond, Polenta and Lemon Cake
with blackberry compote
(Serves 4-6)

150g (6oz) unsalted butter, softened
150g (6oz) caster sugar
2 medium eggs
150g (6oz) almonds, skinned and ground fairly finely (or use ready-ground almonds)
Half a tsp of vanilla extract (or qtr tsp of vanilla powder - Ndali brand is very good)
Zest of 2 lemons
Juice of half a lemon
75g (3oz) polenta
Half a teaspoon baking powder
Pinch of salt

For the compote:
300g (12oz) blackberries
25-50g (1-2oz) icing sugar (depending on sweetness of berries)


Preheat oven 170C (fan 150C)/Gas 3.
Lightly butter a 17cm x 6cm round tin and dust with polenta.
Cream the butter well with the caster sugar.  Add the ground almonds and vanilla and mix briefly.  Gradually beat in the eggs. 
Gently fold in the lemon zest and juice, followed by the polenta, baking powder and salt.
Spoon the mixture into the prepared tin and bake for about 30 minutes or until a skewer comes out fairly clean (under-cooked is better than over-cooked).  Leave to cool in the tin before turning out.

While the cake is cooking, put the blackberries in a heavy-bottomed pan with no more than 1 tablespoon of water.  Heat until the juices flow.  Remove from the heat and mix in 30g of icing sugar, adding more if the compote is too tart.  

Spoon a little compote alongside a slice of cake.  I don't think it needs the addition of cream but it's up to you.

Rosie's Blackcurrant and Lemon Posset

Rosie's Blackcurrant and Lemon Posset

Blackcurrants don't have the jewel-like appearance of red and white currants but they pack a powerful punch.  A little goes a long way.  This is just as well if you grow your own, as keeping them to yourself in the kitchen garden is a battle.  Despite their tartness, birds love to feast on them.  I can happily strip redcurrants and eat them straight from the bush, but a little sugary help is necessary to make blackcurrants palatable.

Rosie's Blackcurrant and Lemon Posset
refrigerated overnight

Having picked blackcurrants at my allotment I was looking for some different recipes.

Almonds go wonderfully well with blackcurrants, so anything involving frangipane is an excellent idea. Chocolate and mint, I know, also pair well, but what else, I wondered.

According to Niki Segnit, author of The Flavour Thesaurus, blackcurrants have an affinity with juniper and coffee too. Even more surprising perhaps is the suggestion for pairing the fruit with peanuts.   Her thesis is based on the American taste for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  Segnit does point out, in the USA,  the jelly involved is likely to be made from Concord grapes rather than blackcurrants.  She does, however, detect a "catty" quality common to the currant and the grape to support this idea.  I confess to never having eaten a peanut butter and jelly sandwich so I can't vouch for the combination.

For the recipe below, I think the blackcurrants work fine on their own.





Recipes for 'possets' are recorded as far back as the 15thC.  The term usually refers to a mixture of hot milk curdled by the addition of ale, wine or sack and sometimes with spices such as ginger added.  It gave a looser result than what we expect of a posset today.  By the 16th century sometimes egg was added to thicken the mixture.  The poor used old bread to achieve a similar result.  Later, cream began to be used and lemon juice became the preferred curdling agent.

Blackcurrant compote

This recipe comes from the talented and scholarly *Rosie Sykes, currently Head-Chef at Fitzbillies in Cambridge.  It was recently printed in her column for the Guardian (co-written with food journalist Joanna Blythman).  It's so perfect that, apart from adding a little extra sugar to my very tart home-grown blackcurrants, I make it as instructed.  Blackcurrants are coming to to the end of their season but blackberries are taking over and they would, I think, make a great alternative.

Blackcurrant and Lemon Posset
(Serves 4)

300g blackcurrants, washed and stripped from their stalks
25-40g icing sugar, depending on tartness of fruit
400ml cream (I used double cream)
Rind of 1 lemon
125g caster sugar
Juice of 2 lemons

Put the blackcurrants in a pan with 1 tablespoon of water.  Heat gently to a simmer and cook for about 5 minutes until soft and bursting.
Remove from the heat and, while still warm, stir in 25g of sifted icing sugar.  Taste and add more sugar if the fruit is very tart (as Rosie says, you want to carefully balance the tart and sweet).  Leave to cool.
Put the cream in a small pan with the lemon rind.  Bring to a "scald" (just to the point where it's about to boil) and, over the heat, add the caster sugar stirring to dissolve.
Turn up the heat and add the lemon juice.  Simmer for 3 minutes.
Remove from the heat and leave to settle for a few minutes.  
Strain the mixture through a fine sieve into a jug, discarding the lemon rind.
Divide the sweetened blackcurrants between 4 ramekins or glasses and gently pour the posset on top (too fast and you'll get too much 'bleeding' of fruit into posset).
Cool to room temperature then cover and refrigerate for at least 4 hours or overnight.


* Rosie Sykes' book The Kitchen Revolution is published by Ebury Press

August on the allotment

The harvest in August

Walking through the gate to the allotments I exchange hard tarmac for soft, yielding grass; honking car horns for the chirping of fledging birds; choking exhausts fumes for sweet honeysuckle.  Suddenly a rush of mint floods the senses as escapees from a nearby plot are crushed under foot.  Thank goodness for sloppy allotmenteers, I say.

The glorious spires of white, pink and purple foxgloves on my neighbour's plot have given way to glowing sunflowers and Californian poppies.  The desiccated heads of parsnip flowers sway in the lightest breeze, scattering their featherlight seeds far and wide.  The starchy roots from which they grew remain in the ground - planted a year ago and forgotten in winter's final frost.

Autumn Raspberries 'Bliss'

Winter seems a distant memory when the thermometer is pushing 30C.  Full sun is wonderful for ripening fruit but the picking can get distinctly sticky.  Harvesting takes on a quick "grab and run" routine with a guilty snatch at a few weeds in passing.  Thankfully, the mercury has now dropped and early morning visits to the allotment have that dreamy quality which comes with mid-summer harvesting.

Picking the summer raspberries becomes less urgent. The drooping canes are almost exhausted, having only a thin crop of ripe fruit and browning leaves.  Close by, the autumn raspberries have taken over, standing straight and lush green.  What they lack in quantity of fruit they make up for in its texture and taste.  Plump and juicy and less seedy than the summer crop, today the pickings are almost equal.

Blackcurrants

I carefully untie the fleece covers from my two precious blackcurrant bushes.  This is their third year of growth and the first time I've managed to keep the crop to myself.  Blackbirds love blackcurrants as much as I do. They'll get their share - but not just yet.  There are compotes, jams and cordials to make first, so the covers go back on.  The gooseberry bush alongside has almost given its all.  Next week I'll strip it of any remaining fruits.

Time for a job I hate - crawling amongst the brassicas, planted to over-winter, looking for caterpillars to squish.  No matter what I do to protect the plants, Cabbage White butterflies will find a way to get in and lay their eggs on the underside of leaves.  There they are.  Three pairs of fluttering white wings, their job done, desperately trying to escape.  I release them and crawl on hands and knees to examine the plants which really shouldn't be as far on as they are at this time of year.  Already I can harvest black cabbage.  The damage is clear and it doesn't take long to locate the fat green caterpillars munching their happy way from leaf to delicious leaf.  Squish!

Borlotti beans

This is shaping up to be my best year for borlotti beans.  A dense canopy of vibrant green leaves hides a pretty, heavy load of red-streaked pods.  Fat with beans, when ready, they will be creamy and flecked with hues of pink through to burgundy.  The marigolds that  self-seeded all around the wigwams have not only looked glorious but seem to have done a good job in attracting friendly insects and distracting pests.


Not everything is performing to order  this year, though.  The courgette plants look healthy but growth is agonisingly slow.  An abundance of flowers, albeit more males than females, promises fruit. Needless to say my neighbour's courgette plants are  producing a fantastic crop. I'll wait until the next visit before taking any of the male flowers from my plants for the kitchen. The Butternut squash and Uchiri Kuri pumpkin plants are at least forming fruits.  I'll be on slug watch for a few weeks now.

The 'nectar bar' has been in full and glorious bloom for several weeks now.  It's difficult to give over precious productive earth to flowers but they're irresistible and I love to see the beds abuzz with honey bees.  The blooms serve to confuse crop-damaging insects, too.  I fear I'm becoming almost as addicted to flowers as my near neighbour whose plot is almost entirely devoted to them.

Nectar bar in August
Cornflower and Marigold

A few beetroots, some Long Red Florence onions, a bouquet of rainbow chard and it's time to leave.  Back across the mint-strewn path to the exhaust-choked street, until the next time.


Recipes you might like:

Raspberry Cordial

Raspberry & Rose Sponge Cake

A bowl of warm raspberries ...

Raspberry conserve

Borlotti Bean Bruschetta

Courgette Soup

Gooseberry Polenta Cake

Gooseberry Elderflower Syllabub

Gooseberry Meringue Pie

First flush and a taste for Tortilla

Raspberry Cordial

Raspberryade

The raspberry harvest can get a little out of hand at this time of year.  It reaches a point when even friends and neighbours start avoiding you so as not to be pressed into taking yet more raspberries.

In summer, the mid-season crop is juicy and fragrant and there is nothing better than a big bowl of rasps served simply with vanilla ice cream or honey-laced yogurt.  However, the first and last pickings can be either seedy, sharp or weather-ravaged.   This is when you need a few ideas up your sleeve because, unless you freeze them quickly, the delicate berries do not keep well.

Raspberry Cordial

Jam is the obvious choice but if the fruit is excessively seedy, as my first harvest of the year was, for me seedless jam is the only way - more on this, soon.

My second harvest was little better on the seed front, so what to make?  Having recently made Elderflower Cordial, I had a couple of empty bottles, so raspberry cordial seemed like a good idea but how?  At times like these there are three books I reach for, Jane Grigson's Fruit Book; Nigel's Slater's Tender Vol II; and Chez Panisse Fruit by Alice Waters.  It was Alice who came to my rescue with a recipe for 'Raspberry Syrup' - "cordial" seems not to feature in the American vocabulary.

So, now I have a few deep pink bottles of cordial lined up in the larder to bring a touch of summer when the heat is long gone.  You can use this in the same way as Elderflower Cordial, diluting 1:5 with water to make a refreshing raspberryade.  I have an urge to try a little rosewater in the mix too.  Adding a splash of neat Raspberry Cordial to a glass a Prosecco is an excellent idea.  You can also add a tablespoon or two of the cordial to perk up a bowl of less flavoursome raspberries, or spoon a trail through yoghurt or ice cream.  Simply scale this recipe up or down according to how much fruit you have.

So far my summer raspberry harvest stands at almost 6kg and the canes are still fruiting.  Oh, and did I mention, the autumn-fruiting canes are producing already!

Raspberry Cordial

Take 600g of raspberries, place in a saucepan and crush with a potato masher or a fork.  
Add 1 litre of cold water and bring the mixture to the boil.  Skim off any scum then simmer for 15 minutes.  
Remove from the heat and pour the mixture through a non-reactive sieve, pressing on the fruit to extract as much liquid as possible from the pulp.
Measure the hot liquid and pour it back into the pan.  Add two thirds as much sugar to the liquid giving a ratio liquid:sugar of 1.5:1
Return the pan to the heat, stirring until the sugar is dissolved.  Bring to the boil and immediately remove from the heat and pour into sterilised glass bottles or jars.


Adapted from Raspberry Syrup recipe in Chez Panisse Fruit by Alice Waters