Cupids versus Chinese dragons

So how was your Valentine’s day?  Was it a dozen red roses or a bunch of carnations from a garage forecourt? Cambridge was awash with pink hearts, plastic pink cupids and myriad invitations for romantic meals for two – not forgetting the  complimentary glass of pink champagne. I don’t know whether it was just me, the murky February weather, or whether I’m an old married lady but somehow it all just wasn’t  doing it for me. To misquote the late great Michael Jackson -  I didn’t blame it on the moonlight, I didn’t blame it on the good times, I didn’t even blame it on the boogie – I blamed it on the lack of sunshine! When the sap is rising and spring is in the air the thrill of romance seems somehow in keeping with the general mood of renewal and regrowth, but this long winter seems to be trying hard to dampen the amorous intent of all except perhaps the most hardened romantic

For me the Chinese new year celebrations, which coincidentally landed on Valentine’s day seemed so much more exciting. The Chinese supermarket near where I live was garlanded with bright red lanterns and banners. The shop was crowded with  extra produce for the festivities: live fish, brightly coloured cakes and exotic fruit. There was an air of excitement as shoppers loaded their baskets. A feast of gargantuan proportions was going to be created and  standing in the queue with my paltry stick of ginger, the purpose of my visit, I felt very envious. The vibrant red and golds on display here made the insipid pink hearts and cupids seem decidedly tawdry. I wanted to celebrate the year of the tiger too! So instead of a romantic meal with that special person alongside  50 or so other couples  doing exactly the same I decided to cook up a sizzling, colourful Chinese meal for two.

Now when I was in China a few years ago I remembered watching elderly women pick what looked to me like weeds growing along the verges in the road. I’ve no idea what these ‘Weeds’ were – I know in the years of famine most green leaves were cooked and eaten out of hunger and desperation, but I imagine these women were taking their harvest back to sizzle them with some choice spices and serve them with steamed fragrant rice.

So to the allotment in search of weeds – well plenty there, but in a cowardly fashion  I restrict myself to random green things – cavolo nero, sprout tops and leeks. I go home and make:

Chinese New Year Fragrant Prawns

You’ll need:

1 or 2 chillies, deseeded and chopped

2 inches of fresh ginger, peeled and chopped

2 cloves of garlic, chopped

1 leek or 3 spring onions finely sliced into discs

a handful of cavolo nero, savoy cabbage or sprout tops, sliced into thin strips

1 pint fish or chicken stock or water

1 tbsp of light soy sauce

1 tbsp Chinese rice wine or use sherry

1 tbsp white wine vinegar

1 tsp sugar

1 500g block of tofu preferably silken tofu, cut into small squares

small packet of frozen prawns, defrosted

Fry the chillies, ginger and garlic until soft. Add the leeks or spring onions and fry for a few minutes. Add the greens, stock or water, soy sauce, vinegar and sherry. When the greens are almost cooked add the tofu and prawns and stir gently to heat through. Serve piping hot with rice. If you don’t fancy the tofu just substitute it with more prawns.

So, with apologies to all Chinese listeners for the pronunciation – Gung hee fat choi – Happy New Year!

 

 

 

 

 

Dracula Beware...

We like to preserve moments. There are photographs, videos even images taken on mobile phones that capture the feel and flavour of a time or place. We buy souvenirs when we go on holiday to remember and relive our stay in places we have enjoyed. In another sense allotment owners and other vegetable growers are also taken up with the idea of preserving. How to capture the freshness and flavour of our produce after it has been harvested so we can enjoy it through the fallow months. I remember reading to my children The Little House on the Prairie, Laura Ingalls Wilder stories about life on the American Frontier.  How they were intrigued by the description of the slaughtering and preserving  of the family  pig – the brining, the drying, the sausage making – and at the end of it all Laura and her sister  were allowed to keep the bladder to blow up and play with like a balloon. Well for us 21^st century people that would be taking homespun that little bit too far – unless your Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall of course. For us busy people, there are freezers – and thank goodness for that - but the old arts of conserving, bottling and jam-making have made a welcome come back.

Now I have always thought that jam and chutney making were the preserve (ha ha – pun intended) of WI members and elderly ladies who owned large farmhouse kitchens. I also thought it was hugely time consuming requiring a battery of equipment – thermometers, enormous pans, vast arrays of pristine jars. But I was so wrong. It’s easy! And it all feels so gloriously cosy – stirring a bubbling pan of molten raspberry or blackcurrant jam while the house fills with hot fruity flavours. I do all this on a small scale around this time of year. In August and September I’m too hot and tired after days toiling in the allotment to spend time cooking up various preserves so I freeze the fruit and wait for the long dark afternoons. Throughout the winter when the mood takes me I ferret out various parcels from the freezer drawers and transform them into a glistening fruity, sticky mess. When I’ve filled the jars, labelled them and ranged them on the shelf I can’t help feeling – I admit it – horribly smug. I feel like Delia Smith! And as the light shimmers through the  purple and red jellies I somehow I feel I have bottled up the summer. Not a photograph or a home video but still a souvenir of high summer that  I can relive on a February morning as I spread my toast.

I know vampires are very fashionable at the moment, but those bloodsuckers  are giving my house a wide berth. Why? That large bunch of plaited garlic that adorns our kitchen is enough to rebuff  any number of the undead and quite a few of the living also. Of course preserves don’t have to be sweet – there are chutneys – and then there are confits. A confit is foodstuff preserved in fat. Making a confit of garlic  couldn’t be easier. Of course you have to peel about 20 odd cloves, but just turn on the radio and it then becomes an oddly meditative exercise…

Garlic Confit

You’ll need

Approximately 20 cloves of garlic, peeled

Olive oil

Place the cloves in a small saucepan and cover them well with olive oil. Put the saucepan on a low heat – you may need to use a diffuser. Watch it quite carefully the oil should fizz not bubble wildly. The idea is to stew them in oil not fry them so the cloves should remain white. After about 30-40 minutes the cloves will be tender. When cool you can store these covered in the fridge for a few weeks. The garlic done this way is mild and creamy and  you can use them in soups, salads and pizza toppings. Oh and you can use the garlic infused olive oil for dressings. But my dark secret is I like spreading a clove or two on toast. Dracula beware…

 

Weapons of mass consumption

Leeks, that stalwart of the winter allotment, always seem to have a quiet dignity. With their flaring emerald tops they stand in ranks – all ship shape – giving a pleasing structure and pattern to the, let’s face it, dank chaos of the February plot. Impervious to the frosts and howling winds, they are easy to yank out of the ground unlike their winter compatriots, parsnips, whose extraction almost warrants an archaeological dig. These amenable vegetables are a most welcome addition to the winter kitchen – with leek and potato soups, gratins, stir-fries. Delicious and adaptable, they are then a most unlikely emblem of war….  but hear this in the year 640 the Welsh in their war against the Saxons wore leeks in their hats during battle. How interesting! I wonder if the Saxons,  spotting the veg-adorned hats, faltered in their attack, saying, ‘Quick men, scarper they’re giving us all they’ve got’. Mmmm I told you they are adaptable –weapons of mass consumption.

What’s more they are fairly promiscuous – they make very good bedfellows with so many other ingredients –cheese, milk, tomatoes etc. Well this recipe here cooks them with wine and honey – a bit different eh?

Leeks with Wine and Honey

You’ll need:

2 large leeks cut into 1 to 2 inch chunks

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 tablespoons runny honey

approximately  ¼ pint of wine – red or white

Warm the olive oil and honey in a frying pan and fry the chunks of leeks for a few minutes.   Slosh in the wine and then simmer … Serve hot, but it is just as delicious cold. This is really good with roasts – especially if you’ve forgotten the gravy as you serve this with its honeyish winey juices.