Gooseberries and Walnuts

Dawn on Donabate beach - time lapse

2011-12-04T10:42:00.001Z

Travelling to work during the week, I saw the most magnificent sunrises with the sky overhead alight with red, gold, purple and blue as the horizon was punctured by a distant red sun and slowly gathered height. My mind drifted and I thought it would be great to capture this on time lapse, and so decided to attempt it at the weekend. On Saturday I failed miserably, and did not have any inclination to escape the warmth of the duvet at 6.30 a.m. On Saturday evening I checked the forecast for cloud cover on Sunday morning. It was not great. There was 75% upper level cloud cover forecasted and a westerly airflow which would suggest increasing cloudcover with no real prospect of a stunning sunrise to be captured.

Early on Sunday morning I heard the sea area forecast being methodically called out on the radio. It was quite clear the good spell of weather we have been experiencing in recent days was coming to an end. "West to Northwest winds will reach gale force today on coasts from Slyne Head to Fair Head to Wicklow Head and on the Irish Sea", it advised in a serious monotone. That was not all. It went on to bring the following grim news: "Occasional rain or hail showers becoming more widespread and turning to sleet or snow in places later today and tonight with the risk of thunder."

Undeterred, I ground some extra fine coffee, which I gulped down with a little warm milk, found a warmer jacket and woolly hat, before departing for the beach. In my bag was a simple garden time lapse camera, my standard camera, and my phone. I thought arriving early was a good plan to feel around for a good location in the moderate darkness, and biting cold wind. All set up, I pushed the button on the time lapse camera and listed for the bleeps to signify it had started. I pushed the button again and again in vain only to discover it had run out of battery. I hastily set up my iPhone on a post protruding from the sand dune. After a couple of fumbles, and an approximate aim at the horizon 15 degrees south of due east, I started the time lapse function at a frame to be taken every three seconds. In the diminished light, I could see that there was a bank of cloud on the horizon and ribbons of low cloud just above it. The Kish lighthouse beamed away, and aircraft landing Dublin airport also provided some interest in the sky. It was interesting to a degree but would it improve with the coming dawn. As time passed, I became jealous of the cloud formations to left and right which were out of frame. My time lapse would be trained upon a steely blue grey December sky. Clouds cork screwed and mixed with mare's tails all around apart from the area I had positioned the camera frame.

I settled in for the long run listening to Vivaldi and looking at the oystercatchers and crows running on the wet sand as the tide receded. By 8 a.m. the sky was slowly brightening but there was no promise of a dramatic dawn. The darkened clouds gathered over my shoulder pressed by a strong and cold westerly wind. The crows had begun to tease each other; one would provoke its flock into a chase when it found a tasty cockle. The chase seemed to be more fun that anything else, as the cockle was never eaten, but the chase kept them occupied for 15 minutes flying in the stiff wind before settling back down on the wet sand.

Gradually people walking dogs arrived at the beach, and horses were cantering and walking in the water. The birds seemed to sense the sun had crested the horizon, taking off in a noisy unsettled flight, but the cloud was too thick for me to witness it. Is it possible that the morning got darker? By 8.30 the light appeared to dim somewhat and the cold intensified; Vivaldi was quickly swapped for the Rolling Stones in an attempt to add some tempo and build a little heart rate to stay warm. My face was slowly freezing and became numb. As if matters were not grim enough, a large black dog came bounding towards me along the edge of the dune. I gave it an uninterested look, my face too cold to raise any other expression, and it departed as quickly as it arrived, barking.

By 9.30 I decided it was time to retreat from the December chilly air for another cup of bracing coffee, and to review the dawn in the comfort and safety of my home.I hope to have better look next time!

Harry Clarke's stained glass: Panels from the National Museum of Ireland, Collins Barracks, Dublin

2011-11-25T20:55:00.001Z

Details of "A Meeting", 1918

The details and images of the stained glass panels in the National Museum of Ireland are illustrative of many facets of Harry Clarke's work; decorative secular, and commemorative panels, and a religiously themed window. The works also span a large portion of the career of Harry Clarke, whom it must be remembered died at the age of 41. The Unhappy Judas panel was produced in 1912 for the South Kensington examinations in London and the Royal Dublin Society's Art Industries Exhibition in 1913. The panel won awards in both exhibitions.

The panel entitled "A Meeting" above, was produced in 1918 and is a diminutive, and highly detailed oval stained glass panel. It is similar in style to some other similar panels commissioned about this time, and indeed the illustrative work designed for the London publishers Harrap. Titles which Clarke worked upon during this period include "The Fairy Tales of Hans Christian Anderson" and "Tales of Mystery and Imagination" by Edgar Allen Poe. This particular panel is inspired by a ballad written by Heinrich Heine.

The panel below is a portrait of General Richard Mulcahy and was probably produced in or about 1925. General Mulcahy fought in the 1916 Easter Rising, served as Chief of Staff of the Irish Republican Army during the War of Independence [1920 - 1922], and was commander of the pro-treaty forces in the Irish Civil War [1922 - 1923].

Portrait of General Richard Mulcahy, Circa 1925

Detail of "The Unhappy Judas", 1912

Harry Clarke's stained glass: Church of St John the Baptist, Blackrock, County Dublin

2011-11-19T08:33:00.001Z

A detail of from the lights depicting St Francis [1925]

A detail of the light depicting St Hubert [1925]

Lights depicting the Crucifiction [1925]

The martyrdom of St Sebastian [1925]

The windows attributed to Harry Clarke in St John the Baptist's church in Blackrock County Dublin are probably the work of his studio with a little intervention and direction from the master himself in places. There are two windows on either side of the nave and each window contains four lights. The windows are said to have been executed in 1925, when Harry Clarke was occupied not only with the commisioning and initial discussions relating to the Geneva window, but also exhibitions, illustrations and ongoing work. There was a considerable amount of work being produced by the Clarke studios during the mid 1920s.

The windows reportedly protray on the left Our lady of Mount Carmel, St Sebastian and St Hubert. On the right hand side of the nave the lights depicting the Crucifiction and St Francis.

Lights depicting St Francis [1925]

The Good Life: Autumn rewards

2011-11-07T22:19:00.000Z

A basket full of tomatoes and one our orange hubbard pumpkins

Autumn not only introduces the first chill in the air but the sweet scent of ripening and decay, as the leaves gradually wither and fall. As the weeks surrender inevitably through October the first ground frosts are evident and we gather the last harvest baskets from the allotment. Despite heavy winds and rain our large variety of tomatoes, for the most part, ripened. The vast quantity of bright red tomatoes forced us into great activity making richly flavoured vegetable lasagnas, pizza Napolitana along with the last of our anchovies from Palermo, and a rich tomato apple and courgette chutney. Those tomatoes that did not mature and ripen from the green department to the red department were also destined for the chutney treatment. Steamed and blended hubbard pumpkin flesh added to an egg custard mix enriched a the noble but simple creme caramel.

Corinne surveying the allotment and hoping I do not fall off or go through the roof of the shed

As the various crops gradually get cleared we have begun the task of digging the beds and spreading manure to give the necessary fertiliser and boost for next years crops. The turn in the season has not stopped all growth in the allotment as the Swiss chard, sorrel, fennel, kale, mache, celery, leeks and some cabbage continue to thrive. The raspberries, despite being thrashed about in the stormy winds, have recovered for the last few weeks producing fragile but some very tasty fruit for Corinne to nibble as she works. The artichokes have been quite surprising; once mid October arrived we expected them to stop producing. We were wrong. This year the artichokes have produces constantly from May all the way through to the start of November.

A single line of beetroot remains in the ground, being the remnants of numerous thinngs and pickings. In recent weeks the apples in a local orchard have also matured, and have been put to good use in the annual chutney production. My personal favourite so far is the beetroot and apple chutney, published by Darina Allen's Forgotten Skills of Cooking at page 439. Not wanting to waste the trek on foot along sodden tracks, across fields and deep ditches, en route to the orchard, we gathered a good supply of blackberries over a succession of weekend pilgrimages to make apple and bramble jelly, and pure bramble jelly.

A selection of our colurful and healthy Swiss chard - the sorrel is just not photogenic no matter how healthy it is!

Corinne recently had a craving for sorrel soup also known as soupe á l'oseille, a lesser known favourite of French regional cooking. To make a good pot of very tasty sorrel soup we cut back an entire sorrel plant. We have five plants in the allotment and they grow back incredibly quickly. Therefore, with the application of some careful rotation, and minimal plant care, we could enjoy this humble mouth watering potage every week! Essentially one strong healthy plant with give you about a carrier bag full of leaves, approaching 500 grams.

Corinne in the sorrel patch cutting the leaves from one of the plants and not a bad shot of the sorrel either!

To make the soup, prepare the leaves by washing them and removing the stalk. You will also need 1.5 litres of good vegetable or chicken stock. We add two or three leaves of chard to mellow the citric tang of the sorrel. The chard should be washed and roughly chopped or torn, reserving the stalks to use in another dish (we have added the stalks rather than let them go to waste - no harm!). Clean and chop a leek, and peel and chop two medium sized potatoes. Once all the ingredients are ready to go, melt some butter in a large tall pot. When the butter has melted, toss in the chopped leek and sorrel leaves, cooking gently until the sorrel begins to wilt (about 5 minutes). Then pour in the stock followed by the chard and the potatoes. Season with salt and pepper and cook for about an hour. To finish the soup use a blender stick to liquefy the contents of the pot. Serve the soup with some fresh cream. It makes a surprisingly flavoursome bowl of soup, and a hard act to follow.

I am always surprised about the vibrant colours on display in the Autumn. Not just from the richly golden and rusty shades of the deciduous trees but in the flowers vegetables and plants that manage to keep on growing deep into November, until they are finally taken by a fatal frost. The rose hips continue to glow red, and the glossy hardy Swiss chard stand tall in the beds. Not far away the nasturtium bloom with a resilient yellow.in the sunshine.

Nasturtium flowers

There is very little that can be planted at this time of year but Harry has put down some winter onion sets in between spells of digging and manuring the raised beds. Corinne and I have planted garlic in anticipation of adding to the other crops which we expect to yield in the Spring. In addition to the onions and garlic, we are hopeful the purple sprouting broccoli, and asparagus will arrive just after the trustworthy rhubarb.

Fishing fleet at low tide in Skerries

Cooked blue velvet swimmer crabs

This Saturday we took a break from the allotment and headed north along the coast pulling into the small fishing harbours that dot the rocky coastline of north county Dublin. Our tour took us to Rush, Loughshinny and Skerries to enjoy the fresh crisp sea air on what was a stunning day. We watched a group of fisherman lifting their pots off Loughshinny and landing them on the beach. Later in the afternoon the same guys were working the pots off Skerries, and recognising us from Loughshinny, very kindly gave us a bucket of blue velvet swimmer crabs. Much smaller than the brown shore crab, they are largely exported and are not often to be found in local fishmongers. You might find them in Spain garnishing a paella or a fish soup, being valued for their sweet flavour. Being quite small they take a good deal of time to pick the meat from the shells and legs, but it is worth the effort. Drop them into a pot of salted boiling water. Once the water comes back to the boil simmer for five minutes and thereafter allow them to cool. The bucket of crabs we were given may have taken five minutes to cook but took about three hours to shell and are now destined for a fine crab tart.

The Good Life: Tomatoes and Shallots

2011-09-02T08:48:00.000+01:00

The Good Life: Harvest on the 20th August

2011-08-20T20:06:00.002+01:00

The runner beans are beginning to make an appearance in the harvest basket and we hope it will not be long before the yellow dwarf beans join them. A late crop of green beans, lettuce and fennel are now sprouting and they should provide some variety to our weekly gathering in September and October.

We are still not sure what the yellow squash or pumpkin is. For a few weeks we thought it could be a crook neck yellow squash or zucchini, however as time passed the neck has straightened out and our thoughts are leaning more towards the thingy being a miniature yellow pumpkin. It may be too early to harvest at this time, but we have cut the largest one in the plot, measuring almost a foot long, for further investigation. Once cut, it had a noticeably thin skin and bright lemon coloured flesh. It might go well mixed with chard in a gratin!

The artichokes continue to provide us with messy starters for a number of meals during the week. The plants have continued their production since May, throwing out their fleshy flowers. The thorny ones catch me unawares at times depositing their hooked thorns into my fingers. Our mammoth crop of tomatoes continues to grow in a healthy fashion. They have only been struck down by the wind this far and not any sinister form of blight, mildew or pestilence. Over the next month we can look forward to these ripening into bright red giants and the bush varieties forming long clutches of tomatoes. My fingers are crossed so that the majority ripen because there is only so much green tomato chutney you can make, and I do not wish to repeat last year's quantity of production

Apart from making the selection for this weeks basket, an hour was spent weeding and looking after the beds. The scarlet pimpernel, and other little flowers, have made their home in the raised beds and were beginning to take a hold competing with the leeks and tomatoes. The asparagus patch received special attention, and was fully cleared of weeds and stones in preparation for next years growth and our first harvest.

During the week we went for a little adventure in the forest to search for mushrooms, and whatever else was growing. As we wandered around we found the first blackberries ripening, wild damsons thronged together on brittle branches, the first bright red rose hips, and some other oddities like the radiant berries of the guelder rose. There were no mushrooms to be found, and it was clear from the healthy floor of the forest that there had not been a growth yet this year. We will have another look in the forest in or about the next full moon, but I will no doubt return in the next two weeks to gather some of the damsons to make a flavoured gin.

My sunflowers have grown tall this year and are magnificent and colourful

Harry Clarke's stained glass: Crawford Art Gallery, Cork and Church of the Assumption, Bride Street, Wexford.

2011-08-15T21:13:00.002+01:00

The consecration of St. Mel, Bishop of Longford, by St Patrick, 1910

The God Head Enthroned, 1911

The meeting of St Brendanand the unhappy Judas, 1911

Details from stained glass panels designed and executed by Harry Clarke dating to 1910 and 1911 at the Crawford Art Gallery, Cork

Detail of Saints Aidan and Adrian, 1919

Madonna and Child, 1919

Details feom two lights dedicated to William O'Keefe who died at Arras in 1917 and executed by Harry Clarke in 1919

The Good Life: Late night mid week harvest 10th August

2011-08-10T22:19:00.001+01:00

A swift harvest

We made a last minute dash to the allotment tonight to see what could be pulled from the ground before the dense dark leaden rain clouds closed in on the plot. The windy start to the day caused a little bit of damage, and we were somewhat diverted from our task while we rescued a number of helpless flattened tomato plants. Once these minor chores were attended to, we rushed to pull carrots, fennel and spring onions. A few of the artichokes were ready for collection, as were a few heads of lettuce, and a hand full of pea pods.

It looks like it might be roast fennel tomorrow evening for dinner. The kitchen in the meantime will become nicely scented. Corinne has already targeted a few innocent sweet carrots to munch on for a bedtime snack.

The Good Life: Craving for vrai myrtilles sauvages, Bilberries or Fraochán

2011-08-01T21:33:00.003+01:00

When you look forward to the August Bank Holiday weekend you have a certain amount of expectation measured with more than a fair sprinkling of pessimism. The first break since early June and the knowledge that the Irish Summer has passed you by is confirmed when you realise the weather forecast for the August Bank Holiday weekend is going to be dull, overcast and damp at best. In fact you could view it as the departure of the Summer as the weather was going to be in constant decline from Friday afternoon.

Undeterred by the lack of global warming and promised long stretches of sunshine we ventured into the Dublin mountains for a little adventure suitably attired in warm clothing. Our quest was to find bog land as Corinne wanted to see if we could collect what the French call myrtilles sauvages, and are known as bilberries in England or fraochán in Ireland. She has often treated me to Tarte aux Myrtilles or Vrai Myrtilles Sauvages en bocaux while in France. There is some bog land in the Doubs region where these low growing shrubs or vaccinium myrtillus and its related species thrive in the acid soil. They may also be found in some of the forests where the soil is suitable.

A view of the fraochán still in situ

Bog land is plentiful in the Dublin and Wicklow mountains and we stopped close to Glencree sighting the bright green foliage, and a number of people practically on their hands and knees collecting in the cold mist and rain. At first this might seem like an unrewarding task, but after a few hours collecting by hand you might gather almost three quarters of a kilo of the small black berries. We saw little or no evidence of people having used combs which can be used to rake the berries from their branches. These gather a good quantity of berries quite quickly but also strip the leaves from the small shrubs. As we drove closer to Glencree we saw more and more of these shrubs, not just growing among the heather but growing in thick tufts along the road side and atop the distinctive Wicklow granite walls.

Drawing your fingers through the fleshy green leaves to collect the small berries, you can gather a multitude of little insects disturbing the happy existence of small spiders and ladybirds. Corinne found a frog at one point. During my foraging, I noticed a tiny ladybird moving about climbing through the berries in the container. The ladybird was extremely small and quite unusually coloured. Before it took flight to a safer location, I managed to photograph it and subsequently discovered it was a 10-spot ladybird or Adalia decempunctata. Add another dot to your chart Mister Anderson! This site has a more accurate distribution chart for this type of ladybird

The "punk" - the 10-spot ladybird or Adalia decempunctata among the small berries

Upon reaching the kitchen we started the lengthy process of cleaning the berries an separating them from a multitude of tiny leaves, twigs and diminutive spiders. Fortunately most of the spiders had disappeared by the time the berries were washed and were not condemned to a watery grave. An average full depth tarte aux myrtilles would employ 600 grams of the precious berries; a few hours work wrapped in a sweet pastry crust. I wanted to preserve a few berries and Corinne, becoming more and more demanding, made a strong argument for tarte aux myrtilles. I decided to scale down the affair, being a moderate diplomat maintaining the vestiges of some control and proposed the option of a few tartlets.

A close up of the cleaned berries - not unlike there tasteless commercially grown cousins the blueberries

The vrai myrtilles sauvages en bocaux is the least difficult method of preserving the berries. The recipe was given to me by a friend of Corinne's who lives near Frasne in the Haut Doubs, which is very close to one of the few bogs in the area. Essentially you fill a .75 litre Le Parfait jar or other preserving jar with the berries and sprinkle over them two tablespoons of sugar. Seal down the jars and put the in a large preserving pot or bain marie with a lid. Place a tea towel on the base of the pan.; preferably the one you have just destroyed while cleaning the berries. This prevents the jars coming in direct contact with the heat. Fill the pan with water until it reaches two thirds the height of the jars, and simmer steadily covered for 1 hour. Allow to cool and store in a cool dry place away from sunlight. These are great on a cold winters night after dinner served with sweetened whipped cream. Do not forget to compare the colour of your tongues!

Corinne changed her mind (a recently developed fluctuating characteristic which is difficult to accept at times), and wanted a baked custard base filling to her tarte aux myrtilles. Fortunately, this allowed a more moderate use of the berries, and I should be able to make a full tart using a 24 centimeter tart ring. To begin place 250 grams of the berries with 50 grams of sugar in a pot and cook for 5 minutes. Thereafter allow to cool and strain the cooked berries through a sieve retaining the juice. Pour this juice over the uncooked berries and stir - I have about 270 grams remaining!

Then make a sweet shortcrust pastry. I rub approximately 250 grams of flour and 40 grams of icing sugar, together with 125 grams of cold butter. Once it mixture is the consistency of breadcrumbs, add an egg yolk and two or three tablespoons of cold water. Bring the pastry together and place in the fridge for about 20 minutes to rest.

In the meantime you can prepare your custard. There are many recipes for this, but I generally beat 4 eggs with two tablespoons of sugar, and a teaspoon of purée de gousses de vanille or vanilla extract. Once combined I add to the egg mixture 250 milliliters of milk and the same quantity of cream. Leave this mixture to stand at room temperature. Carefully, roll out the pastry on a floured surface and with the same care and precision place the pastry into a buttered and floured tart tin. Cook the pastry blind at 180 Celsius for about thirty minutes. It is important to make sure there are no tears in the pastry prior to baking because you will be pouring a very liquid custard mix into the cooked pastry case. Taking the pastry case out of the oven, I let it cool for a short period before taking the parchment, and weights or chickpeas, from the case. To firm up the pastry I brush it with a little egg wash and put it back into the oven for a few minutes.

Once satisfied the case is not broken or torn, reduce the temperature of the oven to 160 Celsius and return the pastry case to the oven. I find it easier to pour in the custard mix at this point rather than going on a shaky adventure through the kitchen accompanied by frequent spillages. Cook the custard and the case for 45 minutes, or until the custard has a gentle wobble when you gently nudge the pastry tin. When cooked remove the tart from the oven and allow it to cool. Thereafter, gently spread and dot the the surface of the baked custard with the cooked berries. Then spoon the remaining berries and juice on top of the tart. To complete the experience, find a French person, preferably in a good humour, and serve them a slice of this tart with sweetened whipped cream and a cool glass of chardonnay from Arbois, Franche Comté.

An excellent end to the day

Corinne is leafing through a cook book now and has suggested that she would like grenouilles á la creme for dinner at some stage. I guess it is back to the bog for me next week!

The Good Life: August Bank Holiday Harvest

2011-07-30T19:33:00.001+01:00

The Good Life: Harvests, poppies and artichokes

2011-07-30T11:33:00.003+01:00

While growth remained very slow throughout June, the allotment burst into life during July. Harvests were rather slow and small in the last few weeks but none the less exciting as we reaped the rewards of having a great variety of planting. The strawberry plants predictably benefited from the fine weather early in the year and generated a fine crop which even allowed us to make a few pots of jam. Likewise the gooseberries and redcurrants thrived yielding a tasty crop. The cauliflowers we planted were not so fortunate as they clearly were breakfast lunch and dinner for the local wood pigeon population. I decided to pull the plants and replace them with a number of different tomatoes we had grown from seed.

A mixed harvest of berries and vegetables from the 26th June

The artichoke plants on the allotment which survived the harsh winter have thrived and continue to produce an abundance of fleshy globes. We appear to have quite a variety of artichokes which is largely the result of trial and error mixed with a certain amount of carelessness as to what was being planted. We like the steamed and left to cool, whereupon we can nibble at the ends of the leaves with a little mayonnaise and lemon juice before tackling the heart. They do create a bit of a mess and a large mound of leaves but they are quite tasty and fun to eat.

A selection of different artichokes growing on the allotment

One brief but very colourful period I look forward to during the year is the flowering of the poppy plants. The delicate and colourful blossom can disappear with a gust of wind. This unpredictable nature means they can be gone in a matter of hours or days and easily missed. They can grow to be relatively large in size and the distinctive matt olive foliage curls and wraps the narrow stems supporting the brightly coloured flower.

In the coming weeks we look forward to gathering plentiful and healthy harvests of beetroot, cabbage, carrots, fennel, potatoes, Swiss chard, peas and beans. A mixture of courgettes are also growing well as are the numerous diminutive cornichon plants. The most prolific plant in this category remains a mystery gourd, because subsequent to planting the informative label vanished. They are yellow and look nothing like courgettes, but they still could be a courgette and only time and tasting will tell! Some of Corinne's large tomatoes are also developing well on the vine under cover. There should be a magnificent crop of these giants in September. The tomato plants in the open are less advanced due to the unseasonal cool weather, but should produce ripened fruit by the end of the season.

The Good Life: The end of the planting season and rhubarb syrup

2011-06-06T21:50:00.003+01:00

The artichokes growing fast

June is the official start of summer, but there have been many swallows cutting and swerving through the sky for nearly two months, and the elderflower has been in blossom for an equal number of weeks. While the months pass the weather and the seasons are not predictable; April was balmy and warm and May was very cool with little rainfall. Just about everything that was sewn directly into the ground in May failed to grow and back up plans were rapidly put in place. Despite this disappointment. June has set out on a similar path. Days may be seasonally warm and are then interrupted by quite cool temperatures and even unseasonal north easterly winds. The weather has not upset some seasonal benchmarks; the timid spring primrose disappeared only to be replaced by the ribbons of white thorn blossom and pretty pink and pearl white wild rose flowers in the hedgerows.

While the last few days have had both warm and cold spells we have decided to get on with the planting project over the long weekend. The vegetables cannot remain in the pots and trays under cover for much longer, and the poor recent period of growth has left the allotment beds looking quite empty. The growth and strength of some weeds was quite frustrating and what the cold dry windy weather did not devour the pigeons and slugs have feasted upon. This decimation continued when some trays of seedlings fell victim to storm force winds when they were knocked off their shelf as the green house was relentlessly battered. Alas the aubergines unfortunately are no more! Courgettes, pumpkins, cauliflowers, Swiss chard, cornichons, beans and corn have all survived and have been set into their raised beds joining hardier plants, and winter survivors. Three different varieties of lettuce have replaced recent departures such as the purple sprouting broccoli, winter onions, shallots and pink garlic.

A bulb of pink garlic in my hand

Despite the sparse amount of produce available in the allotment for early we have still managed to take a decent harvest of sorrel, lettuce, radish, strawberries, an artichoke and pink garlic. We can look forward in the coming days and weeks to the ripening of the strawberry crop, the other soft berries including early raspberries and tayberries, gooseberries and some red and white currants. The runner beans are progressing well and should develop into a decent crop, likewise the artichoke crop is taking over various corners. Our potato crop has grown quite strongly to date despite the late planting (which allowed them to avoid late frosts) and we can expect our first potatoes by the end of this month. While the plants are strong and healthy the lack of rain since they were planted can only mean the spuds may be small or non-existent. The unfortunate reality now is that if we do get a life giving fall of rain we may also be hit with the blight!

Strawberry blossom and fruit developing

For the days that are balmy and sunny there is nothing quite as refreshing as a glass of chilled sparkling water with a dash of rhubarb cordial. When you have had enough rhubarb tarts, pies and crumbles it is nice to know that you can preserve some of that unique delicious fruity flavour for later in the year in the form of a syrup.

To make about 2.5 litres of cordial you will need the following ingredients: 2 kilos of washed trimmed rhubarb, 750 millilitres of water, 2 teaspoons of vanilla essence, 1 tablespoon of citric acid and sugar (see instructions).

Once you have washed, trimmed and chopped the rhubarb, place it in a large stainless pan with the water and cook it until it is well softened. Let the pan stand for an hour and sieve the contents of the pan to separate the pulp from the intensely pink juice. Measure the juice and pour it back into a clean pan adding 500 grams of sugar to every litre of juice, the citric acid and the vanilla essence. Boil the syrup, stirring to dissolve the sugar and thereafter simmer for 10 minutes. Pour the hot syrup into hot sterile bottles and seal down. The syrup should last two or three months if stored in a fridge if it is not consumed rapidly after it is bottled! Beware the seductive pink colour of this syrup!

Harry Clarke's stained glass: St Joseph's, Carrickmacross, County Monaghan

2011-05-13T21:15:00.000+01:00

Detail from the light depicting St Ceara [1926]

Detail of drapery from the light depicting St Ceara [1926]

Detail from the light depicting St Ceara [1926]

Detail from the light depicting St Fachnea [1928]

Detail from the light depicting St Tigernach [1928]

Detail from the light depicting St Enda [1928]

Detail of tghe lower panel from the light depicting St Dympna [1928]

The Good Life: Purple Sprouting Broccoli,Wild Garlic and Rhubarb Clafoutis

2011-04-22T10:25:00.002+01:00

Balmy evening at the Allotment on 17th April

The recent spell of good weather has propelled the countryside into life. Swathes of wild garlic can be seen in ditches and on the road side with their heavy scent lingering in the air. Even the elderflower, has made an early appearance in places. In the allotment the turn of the seasons is clearly evident with the first spears of asparagus breaking through the soil and the cascades of flowers developing on the currant bushes. Joy of joys; my gooseberry bushes have small fruit developing among the thick healthy green foliage.

Many of the seeds sewn in the newly raked and manicured beds remain dormant, but the peas and broad beans are showing some signs of life. The odd long lost potato may also be making an early appearance and will no doubt greet his brethren when they rise from their well formed drills not far away. To vary our crop and the timing of our harvest this year we have planted Duke of York and Roosters this year.

Purple sprouting broccoli

One of the long awaited treats has survived the winter and flourished during the clement Spring conditions. Growing purple sprouting broccoli is a game of patience. You wait a year and just when you think nothing is about to happen and the plants, are almost destined for the compost heap, they begin to produce their purple florets. The plants are not very distinguished, and easily ignored for most of the year, but once they begin to produce our bounty the plant becomes very lush and attractive to look at.

We have been harvesting the rhubarb for a number of weeks now, and recently Corinne hinted that she would like to have a clafoutis made with the rhubarb. In the absence of cherries from France rhubarb from Dublin was an extraordinarily good idea. I used the following recipe which was cooked in a 8.5 inch oven dish. The ingredients are as follows: About 5 sticks of rhubarb or enough to randomly dot the base of the dish, a little butter to grease the dish, 300mls of milk, 3 eggs, 80g of Sugar, 80g of flour, 1 teaspoon of baking powder, a pinch of salt, a teaspoon of vanilla extract, and two teaspoons of eau de vie.

In a food processor, beat the eggs and sugar for a few minutes. Thereafter add the vanilla essence, salt and milk and combine well. Finally, add the sifted flour and baking powder, and pulse the food processor until the flour has been lightly absorbed into the batter. Wash and chop the rhubarb in about 1.5 inch lengths and generously butter the dish. When the rhubarb is stood on end in the dish, the batter can be carefully poured over the rhubarb and should rise to meet the top of the rhubarb. Try not to cover the rhubarb. Spoon the eau de vie over the batter and rhubarb and place in a 180 C oven for 45 minutes, or until the clafoutis is well risen and golden brown. Allow it to cool, but serve it warm with either sweetened whipped cream or vanilla ice cream for best results. In celebration of the end of the lenten period you may as well have both! A very good plan "b" is to eat the left over cold clafoutis for breakfast with black coffee the next day.

Corinne has found a new friend

The Good Life - A Spring Harvest on 17th March

2011-03-17T22:16:00.001Z

The French say "Rosée à la Chandeleur, l'hiver à sa dernière heure". This roughly translates as 'If there is a dew on Pancake Tuesday the Winter is in its final hour'. There was a hard frost on the morning of the 8th March, and while the days are becoming longer, and the sun is getting higher in the sky and stronger, the effects of Winter have not fully departed. Consequently, we have been shy to sew any seed as yet, and have committed no potatoes to the ground. However, the hard work has begun and there has been a significant amount of digging taking place as we are trying to reinstate the raised beds.

While the beds in the allotment look somewhat bare, in some patches there is evidence of strong growth as evidenced by the flourish of rhubarb, sorrel, chives and mache. Elsewhere, fresh new green leaves are shooting on the berry bushes. The crop of leeks and Jerusalem artichokes which have survived the harsh Winter will taste all the better for it. We spent a good hour excavating the Jerusalem artichokes and hope not only to roast them but experiment with cream of Jerusalem artichoke soup, Jerusalem artichoke mouse, and any other recipe we can get our hands on.

The kitchen has been busy in the last few weeks turning out a celebration of citrus; making lime marmalade, lemon poppy seed cake and a second batch of orange marmalade. The arrival of Spring, and relatively mild conditions experienced in February, has awakened the stinging nettle in the local forests and we have already gathered two batches of nettles and commenced our second brew of nettle top beer. In the next few weeks we should be able to sample this years production, and in the meantime we may experiment with nettle pesto and nettle soup!

The Good Life - The colour orange; blood orange marmalade

2011-02-05T17:44:00.003Z

Not so bloody oranges!

Visiting friends recently, they inquired whether or not I had made marmalade this year. I had not and immediately realised the short season Seville oranges are available had passed me by. While working in Spain during the cooler months of January and February, I distinctly remember the Seville orange trees lining pathways and planted in parks. The oranges they produce are practically inedible because of the bitterness and the fact they are full of pips. The trees themselves it appears have three uses; decoration, shade and marmalade. My only chance was to find some dodgy specimens from a late crop or shipment. However, this did not happen and I did not want to give up the idea entirely. In my quest for some citrus heaven, I came across some blood oranges. Normally, I like to see them cut giving some indication of the colour of the flesh, and quality of the orange. Even better if they can be tasted! In the end it was pot luck and I took a risk on some very fine sweet scented blood oranges.

In the past my marmalade production has been a little hit and miss, and in some cases very disappointing. The oranges may have been a problem but generating enough pectin to set the marmalade was also a factor. There are many other factors including a lack of patience on my part, and seeking to rush the process along with no jam thermometer on hand. There is a temptation always to try and finish the production in one night. However, in consequence of my New Year regime of physical activity, requiring a swim every evening, I knew I could not achieve this. There is very little time left after making the evening meal and carrying out ongoing essential repairs to relationships.

Basically, marmalade should be what you want it to be, and not made to mimic some sugared jelly with non-descript peel in a jar. This of course means that you are going to be quite selfish making it in a manner that pleases you alone. How many times have you sat around a table where everybody has liked the same jar of marmalade? Invariably some people spoon out a scoop of jelly without a spec of peel while others prefer to load their toast with peel. Then there are those that discard peel, sending it to the edge of the plate because it is just too thick. In recent years some marmalades have been flavoured with whiskey or spices. I am not a huge fan of the whisky marmalade but the addition of spices does intrigue me.

After much consideration and reflection upon my old reliable sources, such as the writings of Marguerite Patten, and the Avoca Cafe Cookbook 1, not to mention a number of good articles published in the recent past, I decided that it was preferable to make the marmalade over a number of days. Formulating and favouring a three point plan, in contrast to most Irish political parties who seem to be relying on various permutations of five point plans to solve other problems, appeared to be the most rational way of producing the marmalade. A recent purchase of a mincing machine, (the last one available and purchased after a battle involving more than a fair share of quick mindedness, duplicity and deception preying on my opponent, a sharp and very particular 70 year old woman), was also going to play a part in this process as I could not sacrifice an hour and a half of my evening slicing orange peel.

Stage 1: Carefully wash 8 blood oranges and thereafter cut them in half and juice them, placing the juice and any flesh in the fridge until required later. Put all the halved oranges into a preserving pan, and cover with about 2.5 litres of water. Cook over a low flame for about 45 minutes and leave the pot and its contents stand overnight. The kitchen will be filled with warm sweet gentle citrus aromas setting the scene for any essential maintenance to a relationship; chemical warfare - get the upper hand.

Stage 2: Relationship should be back on track for this stage as it could be messy. Remove the softened orange halves from the liquid in the pot. The liquid should be kept and measured. Chop the orange peel into chunks and then put them through the mincing machine. This should not take long and it may look as if there is a lot of pith, but persevere because this will assist in the setting process as it is a good source of pectin. Put the minced orange peel, the orange juice and the reserved cooking liquid into a preserving pan. I ended up with just over a litre and half of cooking liquid, and added to this some water to make up two litres. Cook the contents of the pot over a low heat for about two hours and let the pot stand overnight.

Stage 3: The end is in sight. Sterilise about 8 jars and lids by placing them in the dishwasher, and thereafter in the oven at 100C. Reheat the contents of the pot. Once warmed through, stir in 1.5 kilos of sugar and allow it to dissolve. If the colour of the marmalade mixture looks too light, add half white and half brown sugar to deepen the colour. At this point I became nervous about the setting ability of my marmalade and added 4 tablespoons of lemon juice to provide some extra insurance. Once the sugar has dissolved, boil the marmalade steadily for about 25 minutes. At this point some science should be applied, and if you have a jam thermometer the marmalade should set once it reaches 105 C. There are a number of theories on this but I choose to use the cold saucer method to test for setting point. Begin testing after about 20 minutes, and if the marmalade stiffens and wrinkles on the saucer, or resists your finger as it is passed through the drop of marmalade, then it has reached setting point.

Once setting point is reached, take the marmalade off the heat and let it stand for 15 minutes before spooning it into the sterile jars, and sealing down. This allows the peel to be well distributed throughout the marmalade, and prevents an unfortunate situation where the peel may settle on the bottom of the jars. If you chose to flavour a marmalade with spices or whiskey, these should be added while the marmalade is thickening and cooling in the preserving pan. For half of my production, I added a teaspoon of épices de pain d'épices; a mixture of ground cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, pepper and clove. The impact of this combination was immediate as it not only darkened the colour of the marmalade, but intensified and complimented the rich sweet citrus aromas coming from the pot. Looking forward to breakfast now!

The end result a thick set marmalde full of flavour

The Good Life - Looking back and planning ahead

2011-01-09T21:27:00.002Z

A view across the frozen estuary at Malahide

The second ice age that arrived during December brought with it exceptionally low temperatures with -15.7 being recorded in Dublin and lower readings elsewhere. The arctic weather finally receded by the 28^th with the arrival of more seasonal temperatures. The cold spells generated the coldest December on record according to the weather summary and statistics held by Met Eireann. I spent many days during December monitoring the rainfall radar trying to anticipate when the snow showers would arrive and how long they would last. The verdict on 2010 given by Met Eireann was that the weather experienced was “colder, drier and sunnier than normal”.

Malahide estuary appears to have escaped the ravages of winter. While the estuary was frozen over the bird population has been feasting and foraging successfully on the vast mudflats and grassland between Donabate and Malahide. There is nothing more pleasant than looking and listening to a large flock of geese flying over head. The marsh grass and mud flats are full of large healthy birds, fat shell duck and mallard waddling cautiously on the mud, alongside plovers, godwits, oystercatchers, redshanks and my personal favourite; the shy and elegant, but clumsy curlew.

The first day of digging at the allotment on a dark and cold 20th February

It has been a great year in our new allotment and looking back it is clear it could not have been achieved without hard persistent work for the initial months. However, in the last month the soil, which was buried under a foot of ice and snow for most of December, is somewhat sodden and mucky clumps stick to my shoes as we traced our way along the pathways that divide the raised beds. The heavy damp air carries the scent of compost and decaying brassicas. There is very little left that can be used. The once impenetrable earth can now be excavated to raid our reserves of artichokes. In the nursery beds the lettuce has succumbed to the freezing conditions but the resilient small leaves of the mache cloak the surface of the bed. We managed to gather a small plate of mache and these hardy leaves will continue to grow during January, and into February and March. The only other visible sign of life are the buds forming on the bare branches of the blackcurrant bushes.

Earth works and stone extraction under way on the 14th March

There was some evidence of a system of raised beds by the 11th April

Harry spent the months of October and November digging the raised beds and preparing them for the year ahead by digging manure into those beds. This should form a good basis for the strong and healthy growth of our vegetables and plants in the coming months. Corinne retreated to France just after Christmas to see her family over the holiday season and a shopping list followed her by; seeds of different varieties of vegetables including beans, pumpkins (muscade de provence) and tomatoes including a specific instruction to obtain some of the tomato seed which her grandmother used. For the culinary year ahead I would like to experiment with different varieties of pumpkin chutney, and tomato and chilli jams. The varieties of some of the vegetables we have been planting in the last year do not make the grade for flavour and it is important to address this matter now.

Corinne and Harry working in the allotment on a very sunny 26th June

We enjoyed the long warm summer evenings with the air full of the scent of sweet pea

All at home in the garden of eden on the 8th August

Upon her return Corinne produced a small packet of crosnes. These look like insect larvae or bush tucker which Crocodile Dundee might have grilled with a few prawns by a lake somewhere in the outback. In fact they are Chinese artichokes and a member of the mint family. Artichokes and mint grow in a very similar fashion; once introduced into a plot they are difficult to remove and control. I think we shall plant them in large buckets and see how they grow, and enjoy the harvest sometime in October.

In the coming weeks we shall be focusing on the available crops already in the ground; forcing the rhubarb to get an early growth and picking the young tips of the nettles to make nettle beer. Along with harvesting the nettles we also intend to hit the hedgerows searching for rose hips and berries. Along with the blackberries we managed to find a few red currant bushes last year, which supplemented some of our annual red currant jam production. The blackberry harvest was excellent as well, with many large juicy berries to be collected. If that harvest is repeated in the year ahead we might attempt to make some syrup along with our normal production of the rich fruit jellies. In particular I would like to try to make a rose hip syrup; these require a little patience to gather and a seasonal inspirational team talk might be required to bring together a successful harvest. A team is generally required for safety reasons because the largest and brightest of these red gems normally overhang the deepest of ditches.

Corinne with a large birch bolet on the 28th August

Unfortunately this year there were no bullace plums to flavour a gin or dot a cobbler with. The few we did collect were added to enrich a bramble jelly. In complete contrast last year was the amazing growth of mushrooms in the forests nearby where we live. Some days we were nearly walking on a forest floor thick with mushrooms. There was no real search involved. They were just everywhere, which meant we could be quite strict about our collection selecting only the best examples for the pot. There is always a balance in nature and no doubt this year will be no different. However, by putting in a little extra work in at the right time and carefully planning the allotment's progress from seed to table, we can hopefully yield a better and more sustained harvest throughout the year.

Roses thrown onto the the ice on Malahide estuary in late December

Harry Clarke - A quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore

2010-12-27T06:56:00.032Z

The Nativity with the adoration of the three Kings and the Shepherds, St Barrahane's Church, 1918

Throughout the year when friends have been visiting Dublin, I have become weary of showing them the popular and well advertised cultural highlights of Dublin, and a few pubs as well. You can easily weave your way through the centre of Dublin visiting Neary’s, Grogans, The Stags Head and Davy Byrnes, but touring around Dublin’s main attractions has recently been less of a thrill. The National Gallery has closed many of its rooms, and the queues for the Book of Kells are not desirable when rain clouds block the horizon.

Details from St Barranhane's St Luke 1924 (top), Martin of Tours 1921 (middle), and St Louis 1921 (bottom)

On a recent trip to west Cork I happened upon an idyllic little church positioned on a hilltop at the end of the main street in Castletownsend. St Barrahane’s is not short of very fine stained glass windows and among them are four remarkable windows or lights designed and produced by Harry Clarke in 1919.

Harry Clarke was born in Dublin in 1889 and died in Switzerland of tuberculosis in 1931. In his short but highly productive life he quickly became renowned not only for his work in stained glass but his work in the graphic arts. Most notably tomes published by George Harrap & Sons employed Clarke's unique grasp of a stylish grotesque for illustrations and designs in their publications of works by writers such as Edgar Allen Poe [Tales of Mystery and Imagination], Hans Christian Anderson, and the creator of the fairytale, Charles Perrault. The illustrations in these books stand shoulder to shoulder with the works of the more celebrated illustrator and designer Aubrey Beardsley.

Harry Clarke has often been compared with Beardsley and I believe any such comparison is unfair. While Beardsley was chiefly a product of the Art Nouveau and aesthetic movement, Harry Clarke in contrast straddled a number of aesthetic worlds but principally drawing inspiration from other sources such as the arts and crafts movement in England, Art Deco, the Celtic revival tradition and associated mysticism at the time, and the many rich styles, trends and fashions associated with the belle époque and decorative arts from continental European Countries. In the midst of the rich decorative traditions of the early 19^th Century, Clarke was also clearly heavily influenced by the 1916 uprising, the unimaginable industrial slaughter of the First World War, and the unfortunate divisions of Irish nationalism brought about by the Irish Civil War.

Harry Clarke’s stained glass is uniquely intimate drawing the viewer into a medieval inspired magical world, where the beautiful and hideous, youthful and aged inhabit a deeply atmospheric world of richly patterned silks and armour. Many of his windows have wonderful delicate vignettes; subject matter and depictions that you would not easily associate with the religious fervour of the 1920s in Ireland. Invariably you are captured by their style and crackling confection of colour.

My interest aroused in Harry Clarke’s work, coupled with the unappealing queues and limited access to other Dublin highlights, I decided to commence one tour of Dublin at Bewley’s in Grafton Street. There are six secular, highly decorative lights in the bustling main room on the ground floor of Bewley’s coffee house, produced by Harry Clarke in 1927 and 1928. These elegant windows are principally inspired by the Art Deco movement, an apt choice for this decadent landmark building in Dublin’s principal shopping street, but often overlooked or taken for granted.

Details from the windows in Bewleys, Grafton Street, Dublin installed 1928

Attempts are often made to set Harry Clarke into a lineage of stained glass craftsmen beginning with Louis Comfort Tiffany, but he should be more closely aligned to the work of Gruber and the Dau brothers in France. It is well documented that Clarke spent periods in London and Paris. In London he had an association with the Arts and crafts inspired stained glass studios of the Glass House in Fulham. While there he came into contact with Kevin Parsons, and Wilhelmina Geddes who would also work in Ireland with An Tur Gloine.

Details from windows at St Joseph's Church Terenure; "The Annunciation" 1922 and "Coronation of the Virgin" 1923

While a number of the rooms in the Hugh Lane Municipal Gallery of Modern Art on Parnell Square are closed, as you approach the entrance to the gallery on the ground floor on the left hand side you can find the stunning windows depicting the life of Saint Agnes. These windows are quite small and the various scenes must be viewed close up to observe the detailed fairytale world and stories related by Clarke. The National Museum in Collins Barracks also houses the work of Harry Clarke; a light he designed and made as a student in 1912 depicting the Unhappy Judas Iscariot, and a small exquisite oval panel entitled the meeting produced in 1918. Both are different in style and execution; the former is a traditional ecclesiastical lancet window for a church, and the latter a secular panel designed and executed in a similar manner to many of his illustrations for George Harrap.

Many of Clarke's designs for stgained glass windows are a departure from the Victorian traditional Christian world of shining idealised saints portrayed as crusading Christian knights. The 19^th century saints are replaced with the unexpected, organic, magical, and ghoulish world created by Clarke depicting ghouls and goblins bringing a sinister and mysterious tone to the work, not always easily reconciled with the religious fervour of 1920s Ireland.

Details form the windows of Sts Peter and Paul Church Balbriggan: "The Visitation" and the "Widow's Son" 1924.

Using the rail network travelling north of Dublin other stained glass windows by Harry Clarke can be found in Clontarf at the Scots Presbyterian Church, Donabate at St Patrick’s Church, Lusk at St Maculinds Church and Balbriggan at Sts Peter and Paul’s Church. Hidden away in Dublin’s outlying towns and villages are some of the most important works of the decorative arts from the 1920s. One can travel to Paris, Amsterdam, Vienna and Barcelona to view the popular, recognised and celebrated works that defined this decade however an equally impressive cadre of design and craftsmanship remains largely unrecognised and unapplauded in churches and institutions around Dublin and throughout Ireland.

Details from St Patrick's Church Donabate (top) 1926, and from St Maculind's Church Lusk (middle and bottom) 1924.

The Good Life - Pain D'Epices

2010-12-05T21:37:00.003Z

After last weeks cooking adventure, I have decided to redress the balance and encourage a little entente cordiale. I suggested to Corinne that I would attempt to make pain d'epices for Christmas. Her mood, which resists some of my extra curricular cooking, immediately brightened. A broad smile filled her face and she described in simple detail her personal nibble of choice; a thin slice of pain d'epices, with a slice of butter, and another thin slice of pain d'epices on top. "A sandwich", I said, but in the knowledge that this was far from being a modest sandwich. This combination may sound like an artery bursting experience, however this most luxurious of festive spice breads is as much part of the French Christmas tradition as the traditional fruit cake or Christmas pudding would be in Ireland, and England. It is often served as an aperitif or can be presented in delicately thin slices to accompany a specially prepared foie gras.

A large slab of pain d'epices among buches de noel and other festive treats from the ancient producer Mulot-Petitjean, Dijon

The recipes for pain d'epices are as varied as its origins. Some authors believe it to have originated with the Chinese, the Greeks, others mention the Romans, and nearly all refer to the Arab tradition, through whose lands many of the spices required were transported and traded. It is made in a variety of manners throughout France and northern Europe. Its basic spiced flavours permeate the speculoos biscuits produced in the low countries at this time of year, and in spiced and seasoned ginger breads produced in Germany and Alsace. Certain types of pain d'epices are associated with certain cities in France such as Reims and Dijon, where it has been produced for hundreds of years. In the city of Dijon there are a number of traditional shops selling large slabs of pain d'epices and other spiced cakes and confections such as nonnettes. The facade of Mulot - Petitjean in Dijon has remained the the same since 1842 and the decadent and richly decorated interior of the shop cannot have changed much either.

Mulot - Petitjean, Dijon

The first task we had was to identify the spices to use in our pain d'epices. This proved to be quite difficult because just about everything I have read provided a different list of spices with varying quantities. Most acknowledge, and include in varying amounts, the core spices of cinnamon, nutmeg, ground ginger and ground clove. However, other recipes incorporated other spices which one would expect to find, and to taste, in pain d'epices. Eventually we settled on a recipe, which we found in a very interesting blog called Les Jardin de Pomone. The recipe is as follows: 15g ground cinnamon bark, 20g ground anise seed, 3g ground nutmeg, 5g ground coriander seed, 5g ground ginger, seeds from 5 cardamon pods ground, and 10 cloves ground. To this I also added a few twists of the pepper mill in acknowledgment of the Roman colonists in the vicinity of Dijon, and Burgundy.

The honey, spice and sugar mixture being combined with the wholegrain flour and the parfait jar of ground spices

Having read a few recipes, we could not decide which one would be the best to use. Once again the measures and ingredients varied greatly, allowing us to fall back into a state of confusion having only just solved the secret of the spices. We finally resorted to phoning Patricia, our principal contact for all things culinary in France. She provided us with a list of the following ingredients for a 1 pound loaf tin; 200g good honey (preferably a mountain honey or one from a single source), 100g soft light brown sugar, 100g milk, 1.5 teaspoons of the spices, zest from half a lemon and zest from half an orange chopped finely, a pinch of salt, 1 egg, 250g flour (most recipes suggest a rye flour but I am using a stone ground wholegrain flour), 1 teaspoon bicarbonate soda, 1 teaspoon baking powder. In somewhat of an interesting departure form the norm, Patricia added a teaspoon of pastis to her recipe, however I allowed myself my own variation, or elaboration, and decided to add a teaspoon of fleur d'oranger. The ingredients are somewhat surprising when you first cast your eye over then, but once put into operation the recipe comes together quickly and very easily.

The loaves of pain d'epices cooling in their baking tins

Into a heavy based steel saucepan pour the honey, sugar, milk, zest, spices, salt and fleur d'oranger. Dissolve all these ingredients together over a low flame stirring from time to time. Once dissolved and well combined, remove from the heat and allow to cool. Whisk the egg and combine well with the cooled honey, sugar and spice mixture. In another bowl combine the flour, bicarbonate soda and baking powder. Gradually stir the flour into the honey, sugar, spice and egg mixture. Once well combined, spoon the mixture into a buttered and floured loaf tin. This can then be placed into a preheated oven at 160 Celsius for one hour. The pain d'epices is cooked if a skewer drawn from the loaf is clean. Once cooled the pain d'epices should be stored for a few weeks wrapped in plastic. This aromatic bread softens as it matures, and the flavours develop with time becoming the perfect accompaniment to a festive foie gras with a sweet wine, or simply eaten with butter.

The Good Life - Christmas Pudding - Se lancait un défi!

2010-11-28T18:01:00.010Z

A hard end to November

The Winter weather has arrived in earnest this weekend, and in the allotment the early November muddy tracks that separated the raised beds were neatly filled with crisp snow this morning. Is there anything left in the beds to eat? Yes there is. The prolific giant woody stalks of the Jerusalem artichokes have finally wilted and their great crop lies perfectly preserved in the undisturbed soil. The spinach has also survived, and to our surprise so has the late crop of lettuce. The most prominent survivors in the allotment are the leeks, Brussels sprouts, and kale, which although battered by recent winds appear to be in reasonably healthy condition.

After only fifteen minutes my hands became bitterly cold and sore. Having quickly got back on the road, I recommenced my search for the final outstanding ingredients to use in my apple and dried fruit Christmas pudding. The shredded vegetarian suet was ultimately purchased in the last of four searches of nearby supermarkets. One would have thought this product would be a well stocked item at this time of year, but sadly the homemade traditional Christmas pudding may be a thing of the past!

My recipe is a little different. It was published in Sainsburys Magazine in November 2004 and it immediately caught my attention because of the rich variety of ingredients. In a similar manner to the first time I embarked on making this recipe, I have been examining my dry stores over the last few days and established a list of the purchases required. My ceramic pudding bowls remain unbroken and unchiped, but there was no dried apple or shredded suet to be found in the cupboards. I also noticed my ground mixed spice had disappeared! I link some of these observations to Corinne of course, who recently informed me she had cleaned the cupboards, and in doing so questioned the need for certain items (without querying me). Having recently converted her to chutney, I have decided it is time for another challenge: Christmas pudding. After a brief description of the ingredients there was some hope at hand, but this halted following my description of suet. The initial reaction brought a quizzical look, which quickly turned to one of horror, and incredulity, peppered with French resistance; a look which I am growing accustomed to. Se lancait un défi!

The chopped dried fruit

Amidst the overnight snowfall, it has been a good seasonal adventure gathering together all the ingredients in preparation for this pudding of puddings. The next decision centers around the question of the number to be made, and how much mixture should I make? Ultimately, I decided to add to the recipe and increase the quantities, in order to make a few mini puddings. My first attempt at cooking this pudding involved a different adventure which will not be repeated. I decided to cook them all over the course of a single night as I was working for most of the day. My alarm clock was set every two hours through the night, so that the pots could be refilled with water to the required level, because of the serious risk of the water evaporating entirely and the pot burning. Adopting my experience in offshore racing, and curious ability to deal with sleep deprivation, I struggled through the night with successive steamings of the puddings, finally going to work with the usual, and expected, side effects of unpredictability, crankiness and lack of concentration coming to the fore.

Orange and lemon zest

To make two 1.2 litre puddings you shall require the following: sultanas 250g; raisins 250g; roughly chopped dates 200g; roughly chopped dried figs 200g; roughly chopped dried apricots 150g; roughly chopped dried apple 150g; warmed brandy 200ml; mixture of almonds and hazelnuts 200g; zest of 1 orange and 1 lemon; breadcrumbs 200g; plain flour 75g; ground mixed spice 1 teaspoon; shredded suet 200g; light soft brown sugar 225g; treacle 95g; and 4 lightly beaten large eggs.

Warm the brandy and pour it over the sultanas, raisins, dates, figs, apricots and apple, leaving the ingredients to soak for about a day. Having an inbuilt mechanism for changing a plan at the last minute, I also added about 150g of irresistible prunneaux d'Agen into my mixture of dried fruit. Turning the different fruit over in the bowl a sweet scent begins to emerge from the bowl, but once the warmed brandy is poured over the fruit the room quickly fills with a rich sweet aroma. French brandy might be a little expensive for this recipe, however a Spanish brandy, aged in oak sherry casks, compliments the diverse complexity of flavours in the dried fruit.

Light brown soft sugar, eggs and treacle

Toast the almonds and hazelnuts in an oven for about 6 minutes, and after allowing them to cool before chopping. Combine them with the orange and lemon zest, breadcrumbs, flour and mixed spice, and the dreaded shredded suet. In another bowl beat together the eggs, treacle and light brown soft sugar. Spoon the egg and sugar mixture into the brandy soaked dried fruit and mix well. Then add the breadcrumb, suet and nuts etc. and gently stir combining all the ingredients well. At this point I introduced Corinne to a mysterious Irish tradition whereby everybody who stirs the pudding mixture is allowed to make one secret wish. During the Celtic tiger era this tradition may have been artificially augmented and exaggerated by greedy individuals who made many wishes, and obviously the wish does not extend to the unrealistic and fantastic, such as ridiculous desires in relation to the Irish Banks, EU and IMF bail outs. She did not grasp the concept immediately. However after a little thought she began to stir, and gave the wooden spoon a decent work out for several minutes.

The dreaded shredded suet

I normally let the mixture stand for a while before spooning it into the pudding bowls. When filling the pudding bowls press down firmly before covering with baking parchment, or greaseproof paper. As the pudding expands while cooking it is advisable toput a 2 or 3 centimeter pleat across the center of the sheet and repeat the process with a sheet of aluminium foil. These two covers must be secured well with string around the rim. This is not as easy as it sounds, however it ensures the boiling or simmering water will not get into the pudding bowl.

toasted almonds and hazelnuts

The bowls must be placed in a pot of boiling water reaching two thirds the way up their sides. The steaming pot should be covered well and puddings left to cook for five or six hours. It is important to remember to check the water levels occasionally, and top up with boiling water when necessary, to prevent the pot burning due to evaporation. Once removed from the water allow the puddings to cool, and thereafter check whether or not they are sufficiently cooked. To test, you can insert a skewer into a pudding and if it is cooked the skewer should come out clean.

The Mason ceramic pudding bowls covered and tied

Before storing the puddings secure a fresh piece of baking parchment and aluminium foil on top of each bowl. When you wish to serve the pudding, it should be steamed for at least two hours. Thereafter it can be turned out and served with whatever sauce, cream, butter or custard takes your fancy. Obviously the common ingredient to all of these embellishments is brandy, and I would also recommend flaming the pudding with warmed brandy. Of course, by the time you have tasted your apple and dried fruit Christmas pudding your secret wish should have come true!

Six hours later

Fantastic Pumpkins from Le parc de la Tete D'Or, Lyon

2010-10-30T14:08:00.000+01:00

The Good Life - Jack Frost has arrived

2010-10-25T10:32:00.002+01:00

Donabate beach on Sunday afternoon

From Wednesday we have had a number of hard ground frosts coating the raised beds until the sun has reached a sufficient height in the sky to bring about a thaw. The largely clear skies are perfect for a significant drop in temperatures overnight but equally provide stunning bright sunshine during the day. The advent of the colder harsh conditions spell the end for the gentle lola rosa and gem lettuce. On Sunday morning it was possible to see the tops of these lettuce plants wilting as a result of the hard bite of these first frosts. In contrast the hardier winter leaves such as mustard and mache should survive the chill.

The sorrel patch (not very exciting really)

Sunday morning was quite cold and for the first time this year I began to lose a little dexterity in my hands as a result. A warm and comforting fish pie was on the menu for the evening meal and I arrived at the allotment to harvest some sorrel to accompnay the pie. The dew from the previous evening had frozen where it had gatghered and collected on the back of some of the sorrel leaves and the crisp stems broke easily as I collected the rich green leaves. This spinach like leaf can be cooked in a similar manner to spinach but must only be cooked until just wilted, because it is easily overcooked. In a similar manner to spinach, cream can be added to the wilted leaves and warmed through prior to serving. Sorrel can have a very tangy and lively flavour and the cream can moderate this for those that just cannot cope.

There is an old wives tale that says you should not harvest the kale prior to the first frost.We have a number of plants therefore that have just come into the frame to add to our weekly harvest; both the purple and green kale plants are strong and healthy at this time of year.

The kale patch

Another evening trip to the hidden orchard across sodden wet fields and deep ditches, has provided us with a fresh supply of apples to be used in our green tomato and apple chutney. The tomatoes that are still green at this stage are unlikely to ripen so it is time to use them or lose them. For this chutney you will need a large preserving pan preferably stainless steel and about 10 or 12 sterilised jam jars. The ingredients are as follows: 1 kilo of green tomatoes washed and chopped; 1 kilo of chopped or grated cooking apples; 450g of chopped onion; one or two cloves of garlic crushed and chopped; 350g of demerara sugar and 350g of white sugar; 450g sultanas; 900ml of vinegar (I use cider vinegar but you can use white wine vinegar if you wish); three teaspoons of pickling spice made up with a mixture of cloves, mace, coriander seed, yellow mustard seed and few dried chillies.

This monster mix of chutney does reduce in volume as it cooks so the contents of the preserving pan should reduce as time goes on allowing for the additional ingredients. To start the process put the pickling spices into a muslin sack or stocking and heat the vinegar gently before adding the chopped onions. Cook the onions for about 10 minutes before adding the chopped green tomatoes and apple. Keep on cooking over a moderate heat until the apple and tomato have softened. This could take about 40 minutes (or more) and the chutney should be stirred occasionally to prevent the ingredients from sticking. Once the apple and tomato has softened you can add the sultanas and stir them in followed by the sugar. Reduce the heat until the sugar has dissolved and then raise the temperature or heat over a high flame until the chutney has attained the consistency of a thick jam. Add a little salt and freshly ground pepper to season. The chutney can then be spooned into the sterilised jars and sealed down, labeled and placed in a cool dry spot for two months or more.

The recent good supply of apples has resulted in numerous giant apple crumbles and apple tarts spiced alternately with cinnamon and clove being constructed over the last two weeks. For one dish I managed to get 16 decently sized apples into a deep crumble. I know I am due to make a Dorset apple pie and Eve's pudding before long, but in the meantime apple juice in the mornings has been balanced with apple sauce in the evenings; Corinne likes black pudding with apple sauce. In the last few days while reading papers and magazines my eye has been drawn towards any old recipe or article with apples in an attempt to use them. Last night Corinne suddenly produced a bag of fresh walnuts she brought back from Franche Comté; therefore an apple and walnut salad appears to be a reasonable prospect to accompany this evening's meal. If that was not enough, I am being fed slices of peeled apple as I type, but despite this largescale consumption of apples we will eventually have to preserve some of the remaining apples, and may be required to add to our considerable stores of chutney by embarking on a production of apple chutney in the next week or two.

The Good Life - Harvest on the 9th October

2010-10-12T21:07:00.002+01:00

Pumpkin, patisson, leeks, scallions, onions and carrots together with parsley, rosemary, lola rosa and gem lettuce and some bolets from the forest

Many of the beds have now been cleared and weeded. Harry is slaving away during the week acquiring manure and preparing the beds for next year's season. In other areas he has dug, composted and raked to perfection the new beds where onions have been sewn.

This year's crop is coming to its natural end. The cabbages, Brussels sprouts, Jerusalem artichokes and leeks are hardy enough to survive into the winter. However, as the night time temperatures drop this week to within two or three degrees of freezing point, guaranteeing a ground frost, our lettuce may not survive too much longer. Of the remaining salad leaves planted we are hopeful the mustard, rocket and mache will continue to make a contribution to our salad bowl.

The Good Life - The Gathering

2010-10-05T22:31:00.008+01:00

Detail of fall gold raspberries, autumn bliss and wild strawberries

Autumn is in full flight. Our raspberry canes are laden with large ripe berries; the stems bend a little too easily under their weight in the cool wind. Elsewhere the fiery red rose hips shine like rubies, all but a few just out of reach suspended above a deep wet ditch. The hedgerows have not produced too many damsons or wild plums this year in comparison to last year and some trees have nearly no fruit. The fragile ripe elderberries have all but disappeared, driven from their web like stems by the wind in the last few days. Among the briers near the allotment the blackberries have plumped up and are bursting with flavour. In the last week we have been coming home with fingers heavily stained from the blackberry and raspberry collection, and have been picking thorns from our hands and clothing for the next few days; occupational hazards of sorts!

Jam and jelly making has almost become a daily routine. We have made blackberry jelly, hedgerow jelly and raspberry jam in recent days. The blackberry jelly is very easy to make and I believe it is far superior to blackberry jam. For every 500grams of fruit in a preserving pan I add about 150mils of water (give or take), and cook the berries until much of the juice is released. To complete the process the berries are pressed with the invaluable assistance of a potato masher. The juice and pulp should then be strained through a jelly bag or fine nylon sieve overnight.

The next day weigh the juice and measure out an equal weight of sugar. Bring the juice to a simmer and add the sugar. Continue to stir until the sugar is dissolved and then boil rapidly until setting point is reached, then spoon into sterile jars and seal down. Some recipes recommend the use of a pound of sugar to a pint of juice, however I believe the set produced using an equal weight of juice to sugar produces a softer set. It is important to note that you should not start making a jelly with less than a kilo of fruit. The average yield of jelly from a ripe fruit or blackberry is just a little less than three 450gram jars.

In the last days of September, and early October, we have been out exploring the birch forests searching for mushrooms which have arrived following the passing of the full moon. In past years we had to examine the forest floor quite carefully and search through the undergrowth and briers to find the bolets. Last year there was a very disappointing mushroom season, but this year we have been practically falling over them. This abundance of mushrooms has changed our collection habits, and we now leave more mature examples which we would have picked in the past concentrating on picking the younger and firmer specimens. These young mushrooms are very good when added to risottos and omelets. They can also be fried in butter, salt and pepper, and frozen in portions for future use to avoid the obvious health dangers associated with gorging on wild mushroom risotto on a daily basis.

A large brown birch bolet in its natural surroundings with my No.10 opinel for scale

Corinne's bolet collection

Our biggest pumpkin matured earlier than expected sprouting legs and left the allotment of his own free will last week. We wish him well on his journey and hope he makes it through the Halloween period without coming to harm. Obviously we have increase security and issued instructions to the other inmates informing them that there is no little or no prospects for them in the current economic environment outside the allotment.

One of our other pumpkins was employed in an experiment/recipe which turned out quite well, and may be improved with further continual experimentation, tasting and testing. I decided to make a batch of creme caramels with pumpkin. The bases of 8 ramekin dishes were coated with a caramel made with 200 grams of sugar and 8 tablespoons of water. The caramel takes a little time to make and then cool in the dishes. At the same time you start the caramel steam about half a kilo of pumpkin, (skinned chopped and deseeded), for about 20 minutes. Leave the chunks of cooked pumpkin to cool for a few minutes and thereafter puree them in a food processor. The puree can then be blended with the custard mixture which is composed with 850mls of milk, 8 eggs, 4 tablespoons of sugar and two teaspoons of vanilla extract. Ladle the custard mixture into the caramel coated dishes and place them into a bain marie before cooking for about 50 minutes in the middle of an oven at 160F. The resulting flavour colour and texture of the caramels are quite surprising and very pleasant. Admittedly the flavour is quite subtle and future batches may have a little more pumpkin puree added to obtain a strong flavour and richer orange colour.

As the air temperatures drop the tomatoes have stopped their ripening process yielding a few kilos of green tomatoes. This is a glut with a Celtic tiger dimension for us because we are compelled to live within our Irish shoe box for a little while longer. The tomatoes may ripen indoors in time, but to avoid any waste a nearby unused orchard has been plundered for apples to be used in the production of a green tomato chutney. The kitchen area and dining table are quite cluttered at the moment, which calls upon my, ever decreasing, powers of diplomacy. Negotiations are proving difficult and lengthy at the minute because the French have no traditional use or desire for chutney. Quel dommage!

Nature's organic geometry - our fennel has gone to seed!

The Good Life - Wood Hedgehog and Penny Bun Cep

2010-09-20T00:29:00.006+01:00

Once again prior to departing the little village of Courviere, in Franche Comté, we decided to take a look at the cattle in the pasture and go for a walk in the woods. The walnut collection program was somewhat miserable, and after targeting a number of places we had collected them in previous years, the collection barely covered the bottom of the basket. Corinne described the experience in French as follows: "nous avous fait choux blanc". The vast majority of the walnuts are still contained within their fleshy skin. The occasional rain and drop in temperatures will cause this skin to break down over the next week or so, and la récolte des noix can begin in earnest. For the moment we consoled ourselves with a trip to the woods.

Some locations were better guarded than others

The forest is at 850 meters above sea level and largely made up of sapins, or coniferous, with only a few deciduous trees to be found. Over the previous few days there had been light showers, and the forest air and floor was mild and damp. Walking among the neat rows of tall sapins we could see many different varieties of mushrooms; all of different shapes, colours and sizes. In some parts of the forest small mushrooms could be seen growing just about everywhere, in others brigthly coloured mushrooms stood out in an unnatural and eerie way on the forest floor

Amanita Muscaria is extremely toxic and often found growing in similar conditions to boletus edulis

At different levels in the forest, along the slopes, different conditions appear to pervade, and therefore certain types of mushrooms or fungi can be found depending on light, ground conditions, terrain and moisture. The verdant mossy floor of the forest produce some remarkable mushrooms, and the first clearly identifiable mushroom we happened upon was the wood hedgehog, hedgehog fungus or pied de mouton, known officially as Hydnum repandum. The growing pattern was typical of this type of mushroom, growing in small patches not distant from each other. They were quite young and consequently in very good condition. One notable characteristic of the wood hedgehog is that they are resistant to various larvae, and other infestations which plague other edible mushrooms.

The wood hedgehog or pied de mouton among the moss and pine needles on the forest floor

The wood hedgehog is reasonably rare in Ireland and England, but appears to be less rare in France due to its proliferation in markets. The season for this mushroom is from late september to late autumn, or until the first frosts. The cap is quite distinctive because of its irregular shape; it is not flat but as a somewhat undulating, folded appearance to its surface. It is normally found measuring 5 to 15 cms. However, it may be found incorporating one or more caps of its neighbouring mushrooms, because it can often be found growing in compact groups. The colouring of the cap varies over the entirety of the surface, with a mixed colouring of white and downy hue, to a yellow ochre. Underneath the cap can be found white or cream coloured spines where the white coloured spores are released from.

Along the perimeter of the forest we found a number of the much sought after boletus edulis. It is more popularly known as, depending on where you may find them, penny bun cep, cep du Bordeaux, bouchon de champagne, and porcini. This is probably one of the most identifiable mushrooms, however you have to be quite alert to spot them when young, because their bulbous foot is often buried in a thick layer of moss leaving only the small brown cap visible. These mushrooms can grow to be quite sizeable with the cap measuring up to 30 cms in diameter, and weighing in excess of a kilo. Unfortunately, the boletus family of mushrooms can be full of parasites, and are often found in a partially eaten state. Slugs devour them!

A young penny bun cep or boletus edulis growing in moss

We cooked our perfect little ceps à la creme upon our return home. This is a simple recipe, and one which I believe captures their rich characteristics of their flavour very well. We brushed clean our four penny bun ceps and sliced them thinly. Selecting two shallots, they were also sliced thinly, and fried in butter. Once the shallots had softened, the sliced ceps were added to the pan. The pan was covered for a few minutes to allow the ceps and shallots to soften and cook, and thereafter the pan was taken off the heat to add approximately 20 cl of full cream. Once replaced on the heat the contents of the pan were allowed to simmer for a further 5 to 10 minutes to reduce, and salt and a little freshly ground pepper were added to season.

Our wood hedgehog or pied de mouton ready to be cleaned on a board

For the wood hedgehog, we decided to preserve them in vinegar. The mushrooms must be fresh, of good quality, and preferably young, to make this process worthwhile. Any damage or undesirable parts should be pared away, and the pine needles and soil brushed away. Many of our mushrooms were small enough not to be sliced, but of the larger ones were cut in half. The cooking process will cause the mushrooms to shrink to nearly half their original size, so if in doubt do not cut them.

To begin the preserving process, bring a saucepan of salted water to the boil. Place the cleaned mushrooms in the boiling salted water and leave to cook for 5 minutes. Meanwhile, in another saucepan, bring some white wine vinegar to the boil. The vinegar should be diluted with water by one third to reduce its intensity, and there should be enough liquid boiled to cover the mushrooms in the preserving jars. The preserving jars and lids should be clean and sterile. The preserved mushrooms benefit from adding herbs and garlic. You can add a combination of yellow mustard seed, pepper corns, bay leaves, and basil if you choose. Due to a combination of lack of resources and a lack of time, we opted for the simple combination of a slice or two of a garlic clove and a bay leaf. Once the mushrooms have been boiled for five minutes, they should be strained and placed in their jars, and thereafter the boiling vinegar mixture can be poured over them, and the lids put in place. This process should preserve the mushrooms for six months.

The mushrooms preserved in their jars

It is imperative to always positively identify a wild mushroom before you eat it. If there is any doubt about the identification of a mushroom it should not be picked or placed in your basket, because the toxins may contaminate other mushrooms you may have picked. Get a good book or find a good guide.

Sailing from Palermo to Palma - 3

2010-09-15T09:13:00.009+01:00

A computer generated chart with weather overlay for 0000 hours Sunday 12th September

As we came on deck to commence our watch at 0000 hours on Sunday 12th September the lume of the lighthouse set up on Isola Del Toro was still visible behind us. The sky had cleared as the Sardinian coastline, and illumination from that landmass had slowly vanished behind us. The moon had set early in the previous evening intensifying the darkness. Gazing into the dark firmament above, our star identification was somewhat lacking, given the multitude of stars to chose from; However, Venus shone brightly directly above our position, and the clearly visible milky way stretched forward towards the western horizon.

The lively chatter during the watches made the time pass very quickly and enjoyably. As Fenix was under mainsail, genoa, but principally powered by her engine, and steered by autopilot (the eight crew member always known as George), there was little to do apart from chat, do a token bit of sail trimming when required, and plan lunch and dinner for the day ahead.

The next watch from 8 a.m. to 12 midday was just as easy going because the wind continued to moderate. Once breakfast had been dispensed with, time was allocated for the raw recruits to partake in knot school. Before long all concerned were coping with the bowline, sheet bend (and variations thereof), clove hitch and reef knot. There was a clear blue sky above, but we were nicely shaded by the sails, and the line of the horizon was unbroken; nothing in the way of shipping was sighted. Approaching midday we saw a sea turtle paddling in the water. The turtle casually turned and looked at Fenix. It then wheeled itself around as if to give chase. There was an anxious moment, or two, as we thought it would get fouled in our fishing lines. Unfortunately it did so for a few seconds running out over 50 meters of line and thankfully got free. We continued to spot sea turtles along our route during the day and current reported sightings stand at five in an otherwise empty sea. One short of a dinner service!

While preparing lunch, I overheard Steve and Moritz discussing some distant cloud formation which had appeared on the horizon off the Starboard bow. Steve inquired what Moritz’s view was of this isolated strange cloud formation. It could only be one of two things; incoming weather, or land. On the basis that the cloud formation was too small for weather, Steve quickly concluded that it must be cloud associated with land. Minorca was the only potential candidate. Luckily enough, where there is land there is also a headland. Applying the headland rule, Steve suggested to Moritz he should select the wine for lunch to ward off all evil spirits, keep the gods happy, and ensure a safe arrival in Palma. The Sicilian chardonnay produced by Planeta was released from the fridge, and immediately deposited on the table.

Melanzane Pizza

Lunch was served in the main saloon and consisted of a platter of cold meats and salamis, cheese board and three pizzas. We had bought part cooked pizza bases in Palermo, and there was considerable debate what the formulation of the three pizzas would be. Normally I would not be a fan of a pre prepared dough or base but theses were very good. I adore anchovies, and there are few places better than Palermo to source them. However, I was not convinced everybody would share my opinion. The tomato sauce to be used was the left over of the tomato and vegetable sauce, which had matured overnight. To secure some consensus and allow a certain amount of token democracy enter the galley, I asked Moritz to nominate his skipper’s pizza of choice. I decided to keep everybody else happy with two renowned crowd pleasers. Moritz chose the unique prosciutto and pomodorini pizza. This pizza is cooked without mozzarella, and was finished with a mixture of grated pecorino sardi, parmesan, and garnished with three handfuls of rocket. The second was a melanzane with mozzarella, garnished with the same mixture of grated cheese and freshly chopped parsley. The third was a cinque fromaggi consisting of a mature goats cheese, mozzarella, and an Italian blue cheese (the name of which sadly escapes me now). Once removed from the oven this pizza was also garnished with the grated pecorino sardi, parmesan and freshly chopped parsley.

The "book club"

Following lunch the entire crew returned to their favoured pursuits for the day. The ladies opted for the book club reading and giggling at “A year in the merde” by Stephen Clarke and other good reads. Fishing was also actively pursued. Everybody employed their own favoured method or technique to land the catch of the day. Unfortunately, there was to be no giant fish landed, or any fish for that matter. Tuna fishing bans have been discussed for the last few years to be put in place in the Mediterranean because stocks were so low. Whether they were implemented properly, or observed, is unclear and a matter for ongoing debate. Such a ban could damage the economies of small communities, but the price to pay is clearly extinction of the blue fin tuna. Having spent Easter in Palermo this year, and admittedly it was a little early for the arrival of the tuna, the indications were that there would be very few tuna seen during the coming season. The days of the mattanza are long gone, and in this era of modernity large factory ships employ helicopters to spot the big schools of tuna. The consequences of this assault on the blue fin tuna mean the schools are taken in their entirety; nothing is allowed to escape. The swordfish or spada does not share the same value at the market place, but its destiny must also be in question.

A deadline of had been set for 1800 hours, before a fine cut of roast beef was placed in the oven. Between 1800 hours and 2000 hours the deck entertainment continued. It was our last evening at sea. The sun set was quite spectacular as we sailed westward. Slowly the sun descended to the unusually clear and crisp line of the horizon, leaving graduated layers of orange, red, pink and blue above it, and the growing crescent of the bright moon with Jupiter close by. To our great amazement, not long after sunset Steve had sighted the island of Mallorca. The gods of the headland had to be appeased, traditional obligations invoked, and once again Moritz was called upon to select a bottle of wine. A Beronia Crianza 2005, an excellent Rioja, appeared to accompany dinner.

Being Sunday, some attempt was made to produce a traditional English repast. With the ingredients selected from the markets in Palermo certain departures from the traditional menu were made. Served up with the roast beef were roast red and while onions, roast potatoes, griddled courgettes, and boiled fagiolini and borlotti beans lightly pan fried in butter with garlic and parsley. We only ran out of gas once!

A computer generated chart with weather overlay for 0130 hours Monday 13th September

The deities of the headlands had seen to favour our passage after our initial beating on Friday. Our final forecast prediction had 20 to 25 knot winds descending from the Gulf du Lyon, which threatened to upset the final hours of passage. The expected time of arrival of the wind coincided with our landfall at Punta Salinas. As the afternoon had worn on, high altitude cloud resembling horses’ tails had appeared and we believed it was only a matter of time before the wind would arrive. This was not to be the case. We continued unmolested on a calm sea to Punta Salinas, and the short distance to Cabo Blanco. The bright constellation of Orion slowly rose sideways over the dark cavernous eastern horizon behind us. Our progress was only momentarily impeded when we thought we saw emerging before us in the dark water a net and floats stretching out across our path, but Fenix was not to be snagged so close to her final destination.

The cathedral, a distinctive landmark on the skyline of Palma da Mallorca

We entered the Bay of Palma as the sun rose and docked a little after 7.30 a.m. Despite their size and weight the sails were quickly folded and bagged before we disappeared into the town of Palma for further exploration, and a gin and tonic. Corinne just about managed to control her patience as I brought her on a personal tour of my favourite patisseries and art deco buildings around the town.

The past few days were a fantastic experience and adventure, sailing with great friends. The trip commenced with a dinner with Alexej Paladino and the crew in Arenello, near Palermo, at Casa Tonnara Vincenzo Florio, where we ate a magnificent array of dishes including ricci, caponata, and spada tagliata. We ended the adventure with a meal in Cellar sa Premsa, in Palma da Mallorca, feasting on their local dishes of frito mariniera, sobrasada, calamarines frigit, caracoles and merluza, accompanied by their unlabeled and unpretentious house red wine. We are off now to gather walnuts in Franche Comte!

A detail from the Art Deco inspired dental Clinic building in Palma da Mallorca

Sailing from Palermo to Palma - 2

2010-09-14T21:41:00.021+01:00

Departing the Bay of Palermo

The arrival of September is almost akin to a gate closing in the Mediterranean, Tyrrhenian and Ionian Seas; the weather becomes unpredictable and storms become more frequent, and increasingly violent. At this time of year, examination of the forecasts and route planning are key to a safe passage. We delayed our departure a little longer, to let some wind blow through. Mid Friday morning, I decided to set myself my first test of seamanship; making a batch of crème caramels in the galley. While it was easy to begin with, obviously fishing a bain marie from a hot oven in a lively sea has its interesting points.

Just after midday we motored out of the Bay of Palermo, and were not surprised when we passed Capo Gallo to find winds which were not favourable to our intended course. This was in fact expected, and forecasted, and we beat our way out to the island of Ustica accompanied by a pod of small eager dolphins. We tacked just to the south of Ustica just before 1800 hours.

Lighthouse marking the western point of the Bay of Palermo at Capo Gallo

Our new course would keep our track a good safe distance seaward of the north west of coast of Sicily, and was sufficiently far enough north for us to take early advantage of the expected lift in the wind. By sunset, thunder clouds had begun to develop and roll in towards the Sicilian coast. Heavy gusts of wind preceded the cloud systems, however we avoided much of the rain which was destined for the shore. The wind increased continually through the night, and coupled with the sea state, the conditions provided a challenging environment for preparing food and indeed eating it. Needless to say there were a few casualties, who found life difficult, but a small few did enjoy the lasagne which was hastily portioned out into bowls and passed around on deck.

Approaching Ustica on port tack

There was only a few percent of the moon visible and this thin crescent set early in evening. Without the normal illumination from the moon the night was very dark and sinister. The night was made even darker by the low dense cloud cover, but gradually the clouds began to light up. At the helm, as the wind passed your face, you could feel the rapid changes in temperature giving some indicqtion the air was highly charged. From midnight to 4 a.m. the sky was continually alight with flashes of lightning, as the thunder clouds all around Fenix released their charge, sometimes with extremely dramatic effects. A phenomenon which never ceases to amaze me, and this night was no exception, is that you go an entire day and not see a ship. However, in stark contrast at night you may sight many ships and vessels, as you monitor the horizon, and closely follow their respective courses.

The next 12 hours on Saturday 11th proved to be slightly windier than forecast, and we made good progress towards Sardinia, the eastern coast of which we finally sighted at about 1 p.m. Lunch was a minimalist affair in the circumstances, and wedges of monreale bread filled with salami, cheese and tomato were well received by those that wished to partake in that feast on deck. Some did not.

Fenix beating into the setting sun as the wind moderated

By 1600 hours spirits on board began to improve because the wind had moderated, and begun to move into the north as it was forecasted to do. We had intended to pass close enough to Sardinia to update our weather forecast, and our course closed in upon the Isola Dei Cavoli, and the Golfo Di Cagliari. The news was good and we continued our way along the southern Sardininan coast parting with it just after midnight.

All hands were on deck for dinner at 1900 hours, which commenced with a large platter of prosciutto, brescaola, capocollo, and various salamis, served with olive oil and bread. Technically, because we had passed a headland, and not wanting to offend the sea gods and the deity of the headland (a close and revered relation), we opened a bottle of wine to procure further good fortune and ward off evil spirits. A Sicilian chardonnay produced by Planeta was sourced from the chiller for this purpose.

A more leisurely approach towards the south western tip of Sardinia

The main course was an epicurean affair, preparations for which had commenced two hours earlier with the production of the tomato and vegetable sauce. Four onions and three cloves of garlic were cooked in olive oil salt and pepper. To this was added a thinly sliced red pepper, pomodorini, about seven salad chopped tomatoes, a thinly sliced bulb of fennel, a tin of tomatoes and half a tin of tomato concentrate. This melange was cooked for an hour, and then blended and left to stand. At the same time the onions were being chopped, two bulbous Sicilian aubergines were thickly sliced and sprinkled with salt. After an hour they were washed and patted dry, and placed into a hot oven with olive oil and seal salt. The accompanying sauce and side dishes prepared, attention was turned to the fresh ravioli filled with ricotta, speck and radiccio. Dinning was al fresco, and all the crew were served with a bowl of ravioli, topped with tomato and vegetable sauce, roasted aubergine, and grated pecorino and parsley to garnish. All bowls were returned to the galley both empty and spotlessly clean as we advanced towards Cabo Spartivento and Cabo Teulada, and a glorious sunset. Only 275 nautical miles remained to Cabo Blanco on the south eastern corner of Mallorca.

A computer generated chart with overlay for Saturday 12th September at midnight

Sailing from Palermo to Palma - 1

2010-09-10T07:37:00.029+01:00

A computer generated map with weather overlay for Friday 10th September 8 a.m.

Travelling from Trapani to Palermo is always interesting. Your path weaves through the rolling hills of north western Sicily, and through time, passing ancient Greek settlements of Erice and Segesta. From Winter through to the start of Summer the countryside is a rich verdant green with brightly coloured wild flowers in the pasture. In September the landscape is of a different hue. The heat of the Summer has parched the earth and scorched any life out of the grass. The arable crops have been harvested. The typical hilltop farmhouses blend into this earthy landscape. Many fields are bare from the harvest, and some have been ploughed revealing the rich dark earth. The only green foliage visible in some of the fields are vines, olive trees, and narrow cultivated channels of green randomly dotted with bright yellow melons, and bloated pumpkins, which ripen in the sun and devour every drop of rain and moisture that penetrate into the soil.

A selection of tomatoes from the market

Prickly pears

Having arrived in Palermo on Wednesday, we spent most of a rainy Thursday afternoon wandering around Palermo purchasing the food for the passage. There were no artichokes in the market this time. The stall that normally sold them in the Spring was selling romanesco and fresh green olives. With the change in the seasons came a change in the produce available; stalls were now largely selling courgettes, peppers, melons, tomatoes, pumpkins and beans. Seasonal fruit such as various varieties of plums, grapes and peaches were in abundance. The provisioning also included a visit to Giglo, our favourite producer of fresh pasta in Palermo. A stop there resulted in numerous purchases of ravioli; melanzane, radiccio and speck, and pesto basilico.

The bow of an old Palmeritan fishing boat going through a lengthy restoration project

The current plan is to leave 9 a.m. on Friday morning. This should be late enough to delay our progress and avoid a possible encounter with a forecasted mistral wind running down the west coast of Sardinia and into the Strait of Sicily. Our aim is to sail in a direction which should allow us close in upon the Sardinian coast, and gradually the wind is forecasted to shift to a more northerly direction making our passage a little easier. In closing the Sardinian coast we can also potentially pick up a detailed forecast for the remainder of the passage, but the forecasts we currently have to hand all suggest the wind should continue to moderate requiring us to possibly motor for the final approach to Palma. Fishing lines and rods are currently being prepared for action.

Fenix in the port of Palermo

The Good Life - Mini Harvest 4th September

2010-09-05T11:31:00.002+01:00

We are going away on vacation this week and consequently we have not taken too much from the plot today. The sun finally came out on Saturday evening allowing me to take a few photographs. The rain showers during the early part of the weekand on Saturday were much needed and the plot looks great in the evening sunshine. We had a few quite visits to the plot during the week taking a few items for the pot. On Saturday we dug up a few of the remaining potatoes, and also should have displayed one of our giant parsnips in the harvest shot, but it was not possible because the sun had almost set before Corinne had excavated it from the bed. The fresh growth of raspberries continues and we have a tart but tasty feast every time we arrive at the allotment.

Sensational sunset over Malahide estuary during the week

The recent rainfall has reinvigorated the unwanted weeds and we spent a number of hours digging these guys out of the beds. Weeding also provides a good opportunity to tidy up and clear some of the beds. The majority of the peas and runner beans have been cleared and these beds will be prepared and manured in the coming weeks. Elsewhere winter cabbage and purple sprouting broccoli have been newly planted and winter leeks will also require some space to be planted. Among the more mature cabbage and Brussels sprouts radiant green caterpillars, ospring of the small cabbage white butterfly, have appeared. We spent a good half hour hunting for these caterpillars which can not only munch their way through the entire foliage, but into the heart of the plant as well.

A view through the allotment, the dwarf yellow beans, purple kale, Brussels sprouts and cabbage, corn, and Jerusalem artichokes.

During the week I also made my rose hip and apple jelly. I had gathered only half a kilo of rose hips and decided to use a recipe that maximised the flavour of the rose hips. Apple jelly on its own is not one of my favourite preserves. It can be a little lack lustre and the flavour is not strong enough in itself to provide interest, but combined with mint or thyme it produces a great flavoured and richly coloured jelly for cooking or serving with meat.e

My jar of rose hip and apple jelly

For my jelly I used a half kilo of rose hips and an equal measure of cooking apples freshly pilfered from a nearby orchard. Given the quantities used, the yield will be quite low. Normally to make process really worthwhile it would be advisable to use a minimum of 2 kilos of fruit. The rose hips take up to an hour to render down and so it is advisable to cook both fruits separately. To prepare the rose hips cut off the flower end and the stalk and put the hips in a stainless pot with 300 ml of water. Simmer gently to render down and add more water when necessary to prevent the pot drying and burning. The apples must be washed and quartered. There is no need to peel and core them. Thereafter they can be put in a pot with 300 ml of water and simmered until they are soft. Both fruits should be sieved or strained separately through a muslin bag and nylon sieve overnight to obtain the juice.

I was disappointed with the quantity of juice from the apples and gave the apple pulp a second boiling with 150 ml of water. This boosted the quantity of apple juice somewhat, but it is not a process that should be employed with the rose hips. To make the jelly I add the same weight of sugar to weight of jelly. Some techniques call for a pound of sugar to a pint of juice but this can produce over sweetened and stiff jellies. To begin the process, heat the sugar in the oven set to 100 C with the clean jars, which should be sterilised in advane of potting the jelly.

Heat the combined apple and rose hip juice in a preserving pan, and once the juice is warmed through add the sugar and stir until dissolved. Then boil the liquid rapidly. After about 7 or 8 minutes begin testing for setting point. Setting point can be identified by dropping a little of the boiling liquid onto a cold saucer. If the liquid cools forming a wrinkled skin, or offers a little resistance, when you draw your finger though it, you can be satisfied setting point has been reached. The boiling liquid should then be poured off into sterile jars and sealed down to be left overnight to cool. This is a soft set jelly and can take 24 hours to set. The end result tasted very good when I was testing for setting point. It was not too sweet and produced a deep golden honey hued colour. A real benefit from this jelly is the fact the rose hips are extremely rich in vitamin C and this should ward off any Winter colds.

Corinne working in the plot attaching the last of this year's peas to their canes

We shall be away for nearly two weeks and will be looking forward to tasting upon our return freshly ripened tomatoes, cabbages, the lolla rossa lettuce, and the last of the corn. A few of the artichokes have begun to produce their fleshy flowers again, and the Jerusalem artichoke crop will also be almost ready. Hopefully the weeds, butterflies, blight and butterflies will stay away!

The Good Life - Harvest on the 29th August

2010-08-29T23:40:00.001+01:00

August is proving to be as productive as July. While we have decided to pick one of our pumpkins, the courgettes are rapidly becoming marrows, and the patisson crop, a late comer, is gathering strength. The fennel is now ready and the sweet corn has matured well, and early. We steamed a number of freshly picked corn cobs during the week and they were stunning (of course there was a healthy amount of butter added). Some of the parsnips have also been plucked for the pot, and we look forward to some tasty dishes with them in the coming week.

The fruit bushes continue to produce; as well as the blueberries, the much awaited Autumn production of plump tart raspberries has begun and this growth will hopefully last for about six weeks. The planting in the allotment is quite limited now; our broccoli and cabbage will survive a Winter,and we have been advised to plant garlic in September, however the lolla rossa and gem lettuce will not survive a hard frost. A new crop of our favourite lettuce has been transplanted from the nursery beds into beds where the onions have been cleared. We have also finally cleared our main potato bed. This once difficult, and hard, stony soil towards the front of the allotment is now crumbly, and enriched for the new year.

The Good Life: Summer's transition into Autumn

2010-08-22T20:53:00.013+01:00

Thick fleshy plate of the back of a giant sunflower

Despite the glorious sunny spells in the past few weeks, Autumn has arrived. The shortening daylight hours, and the crisp cool air in the mornings signal the unmistakable arrival of the third season. The pumpkins have become enormous and the patissons have begun to fruit and flower. Aging sunflowers have shed their bright yellow petals the their large heavy heads are beginning to droop. Corinne's blueberry bush is laden with fat juicy tart berries which are delicious to eat along with our little crop of alpine strawberries. Harry has transformed the tomato plants, which I had allowed to grow a little wild. He has ruthlessly pruned them, and in doing so, he has preserved a decent crop of tomatoes and hopefully prevented a late attack of blight.

Glossy healthy yellow flowers herald the arrival of the patissons

While Corinne was away I decided to commence my jam and chutney production. We had hung and dried the crop of red onions for a number of weeks, and I was keen to make an onion jam having not done one the year before. After a little research I decided to modify a recipe which appears in "Forgotten Skills of Cooking" by Darina Allen at page 450. The ingredients and quantities set out in the recipe are as follows: 700g red onions, 25g butter, 140g sugar, 1 teaspoon salt and freshly ground black pepper, 7 tablespoons of sherry vinegar and 250ml of a full bodied red wine. I used a Cote du Rhone for this recipe, and instead of adding 2 tablespoons of creme de cassis as suggested, I added the same quantity of the vin de noix, produced by Corinne's father from a Cote de Rhone base. Having spent some time shelling the dried mustard seed pods, it seemed appropriate to incorporate them into the recipe as well. I deemed two teaspoons of mustard seed to be adequate.

Once the onions have been peeled and chopped finely (I was not too fussy), they are sautéd in the bubbling butter with the sugar, salt and pepper. The pot is covered and left over a low flame for approximately 30 minutes, or until the the onions have become tender and cooked. At this point the sherry vinegar, wine, vin de noix and mustard seed can be added. The melange can be left over a low flame for approximately 30 minutes. It is probably best to err on the side of caution and not reduce the jam too much. Once satisfied, this savoury jam can be spooned into hot sterile jars and sealed down, whereupon they should be stored in a dark, cool and dry place.

For the chutney I used a combination of recipes from a number of sources but ultimately relied upon my chief point of reference for chutneys; "The Basic Basics Jams, Preserves and Chutneys Handbook" by Marguerite Patten. There are some basic rules for chutney which I follow. The choice of vinegar is very important. Along with being vital in the preservation process, the quality, acidity and flavour of the vinegar will dictate the ultimate flavour of a chutney. Sugar is also important for the preservation process but the choice of sugar will dictate the look or colour of a chutney. Many chutneys are too dark for my liking, and this may be a due to poor selection or combination of ingredients. Having said this one can use a malt vinegar and demerara sugar to produce a deep and richly flavoured fig and apple chutney, however for the following recipe I used Llewellyn's cider vinegar produced in Lusk, County Dublin, and a brown granulated sugar with two tablespoons of demerara sugar.

Having a number of large courgettes in the plot allowed me to produce an 'apple courgette and tomato' chutney, for which I used the following ingredients: 500g apples peeled cored and thinly sliced (grating the apple is also an option), 500g tomatoes skinned and chopped, 500g courgette or marrow peeled, seeded and copped in small cubes, 250g white onions finely chopped, 250g sultanas, 250g sugar plus two tablespoons of demerara sugar, 350ml cider vinegar and 150 ml water, 1 teaspoon salt and pepper to taste. I use a general pickling spice mix to put into a muslin bag to add flavour to a chutney, however in addition to my standard mix I included extra cloves, and five or six dried (nuclear) bird's eye chillies.

To make the chutney put all the ingredients, excluding the sugar, sultanas and seasoning into the preserving pan, i.e. one which is neither iron or aluminium. Simmer all the ingredients over a low heat until they are tender, stirring occasionally. For this recipe, I found it took approximately two hours before the apple and courgette became tender. If the sugar is incorporated too early the apple and courgette may not become tender. After adding the sugar and sultanas and seasoning, I continued to gently stir the chutney until the sugar had dissolved and left the chutney to simmer over a low flame gently for a further 45 minutes. After lifting out the muslin spice bag, the chutney was spooned into hot sterile jars and sealing down. A chutney should be stored for a minimum two months before use, whereupon all the flavours and spices will have infused.

As September approaches and my principal source of apples come into season I have been foraging around trying to find a good supply of rose hips for a rose hip and apple jelly. Early this morning I caught a glimpse of a wild thorny bush covered is red and orange rose hips which should be perfect for picking when I commence collecting of the apples.

Rose hips from Rosa Canina or Dog Rose growing against a stone wall almost ready to be picked

The Good Life - Beatles, flies, blight and rust

2010-08-08T23:06:00.019+01:00

One of our happy sunflowers!

We were fortunate to have had a warm and dry start to the summer. June was particularly nice with long sun filled warm days making it the warmest June for 40 years. In contrast July proved to be mild, cloudy with above average rainfall for most parts of the country. These conditions did not inhibit growth; every plant was leaping out the ground in the allotment including the weeds. Meanwhile the humid warm conditions caused the steady advance of fungal rot, associated with various types of disease and infestations, attacking the foliage of the plants and vegetables. Another unexpected scourge was to play a significant role in our management of the plot. A number of light fingered thieving bastards visited a few of the allotment sheds taking rakes, forks, shovels and spades. There were no witnesses because this crime was perpetrated while most people were watching a dull and uninspiring world cup final.

The onions, shallots and red onions have all been lifted and we are in the process of tying them together to hang and dry. I have begun to carry out a little research into which recipe I will use to make a red onion marmalade. I am leaning towards a recipe which I can incorporate some of my little harvest of dried mustard seed recently cleared from one of the nursery beds. Indeed chutneys and preserves of various kinds are on my mind as the tomato and courgette crops develop and mature in the coming weeks.

Clearing a number of beds, and weeding them, has revealed a marked increase in the number of worms working the soil and various spiders defesively tracking their way across its crumbly surface. Beatles are also abundant and some have been laying their eggs among the vegetables. Plants have been primarily affected by green fly and black fly. Fortunately these manifestations have been quite isolated. Corinne has pulled the odd cabbage and showed me where the cabbage fly larvae have been devouring the roots causing immense damage. As the year has progressed, and as I have listened to her, I could swear just about every plant has its own particular fly which attacks it. To date I am told we have successfully avoided the attention of the carrot fly and gooseberry saw fly.

View across the allotment

The damp conditions in July caused the inevitable spread of rust and blight. The rust attacked the onions and leeks, and the blight blackened the leaves of a number of tomato and potato plants. Without the use of chemical treatments there is not a lot that can be done, but we have dug up the onions and cleared away some of the rotten plants and foliage where possible to limit the damage.

The real successes of July have been the gem lettuce and our crop of dwarf yellow beans with the potatoes and beetroot playing a strong supporting role. Due to a little judicious planting we should have two crops of lettuce and yellow beans extending our season of production into September and possibly October. These crops are also the principal targets of the dreaded slug, which took a large portion of last years delectable crop of yellow beans. We have only seen a few slugs to date this year and they remain conspicuous by their absence. Corinne's grandmother, who is 101, told us her secret of keeping the slugs at bay in her garden. She stated that in order to effectively deal with the problem it was imperative to kill 50 slugs every morning with a scissors and they would no longer be a threat. Within two or three weeks of this regime one could almost imagine some level of extinction taking place. It is no wonder it worked, however as I have only killed five slugs in five months we must be on the verge of an infestation of biblical proportions.

Poppy heads drying in a field during July

During the week we also harvested seeds from the heads of the poppy plants in a nearby field. The papaver somniferum, or ornamental poppy, and also known as the opium poppy, has a number of sedative properties. It is propagated on a huge scale in Afghanistan and Tasmania. For our purposes, as the head of the poppy swells and dries, the seeds also dry inside the head ready to be spread by the wind as the poppy bends and sways from side to side. Breaking off the head in your hand, you can cut the head open and shake the seeds into a jar. We collected nearly 300 grams of seed this way and look forward to incorporating them into cakes, biscuits and bread. My first recipe will be Lemon and poppyseed cake. I have found what looks to be a good recipe for this classic cake published in the London times in June 2005. I may substitute some ground almonds for the flour in the recipe to give it more of a nutty and rich texture and taste while also giving the cake the ability to retain some moisture. More on this later!

The Good Life - Harvest on the 18th July

2010-07-20T07:56:00.000+01:00

The yields for the month of July are probably the biggest of any month. Most of the vegetables can be picked or are nearing maturity. Meanwhile the tomato and pumpkin type plants continue to grow and dominate their patches promising a good yield in the coming months. Equally smaller plants will equal promise such as cornichons and round courgettes are thriving on the edges of beds

By now all the red currants and gooseberries have been picked and transformed into luxurious richly coloured jam. I keep on suggesting to Corinne that we should use a container to gather the raspberries. She spends quite a bit of time at the end of the allotment with the raspberry canes, and as a result the raspberries rarely make it from one end of the allotment to the other. The blackcurrants are also starting to disappear, and very soon the blueberries and alpine strawberries will provide another diversion.

We have sown new beds of lolla rosa and baby gem lettuce which have proved to be very tasty and popular with friends. Corinne's artichokes, which were grown from seed, are steadily growing and we should be able to harvest some more next week.Peas have also been sown for a second crop of expectation.

The Good Life - Harvest on the 5th July

2010-07-05T23:41:00.001+01:00

The weather has changed in the last two days. After the warmest June in 40 years, we are beginning to get more westerly windsagain. They can be full of squalls and driving rain at this time of year, which we experienced on Sunday, leaving some of the plants damaged, stems broken and generally tossed about. As yet the ground is still relatively dry and this may take a few days of rainfall to penetrate the dry soil and saturate it.

We have begun to sow more lettuce to replenish our stocks; lolla rossa and little gem. The dwarf yellow beans are beginning to flower as are the runner beans, and the courgette plants are the first to flower and produce in the pumpkin patch, adorned with large bright yellow flowers. Elsewhere, all the asparagus have finally broken the surface and the diminutive scarlet pimpernel is beginning to blossom. This pretty weed is tolerated unlike the rest of them. The tomato plants are growing strong and some fruit are beginning to form. They have been strategically placed in pots all around the allotment, in an experimental little poly shed built over a raised bed, and straight into the ground. I am hoping to produce a few pots of tomato chutney this year with our onions and tomatoes. In the kitchen over the weekend a bag of rocket was blended with olive oil and pecorino from Palermo, along with some roasted pine nuts and garlic to make a pesto. Corinne is eating this as I type.

Monday evening was beautiful and sunny but the air had a slight chill to it. We harvested our first artichoke and courgette of the year, and dug up two potato plants. The potatoes were medium to small in size and will benefit from a week or two more in the ground. My parents turned up for an inspection of the plot, and a carrier bag of vegetables. As I dug the potatoes and searched through the soil for those which had escaped, my mother recalled a scene from her childhood when her father would dug up the potatoes in the evening, and everybody would snack on the fresh boiled potatoes with butter that night. I think she might be having a small bowl now as I type.

Sunset by the Broadmeadow Estuary, Donabate

The Good Life - Harvest on the 26th June

2010-06-26T19:52:00.000+01:00

The Good Life - Harvest and honeymoon on the 20th June

2010-06-21T23:13:00.003+01:00

Harvest shot; strawberries, turnips, oregano, carrots, beetroot, peas and radishes.

Corinne, Paul and Sonia

Paula and Sonia

The Good Life - Harvest on the 13th June

2010-06-13T22:24:00.013+01:00

While most of the vegetables are still quite young we have managed to take a little harvest this weekend. The radishes and lettuce are plentiful and need to be used. Elsewhere the rocket, beetroot, oregano and mustard flower and parsley are maturing well.

This week we planted our pumpkins, courgettes, patissons and butternut squash. Our other seedlings continue to make good progress and in particular the fennel and perennial spinach shall be ready to transplant very soon. The broad beans have proved to be very healthy and aphid free so far. Their neighbours, the peas had a slow start and Corinne spent some time attaching their tender stems to bamboo canes to encourage them to grow in a more vertical and skyward direction. In the last week the potatoes have grown very tall and they are beginning to flower. The strawberry plants are also fruiting which should give us a pleasant diversity of fruit and vegetables over the next two or three weeks.

Corinne attaching the peas

The Good Life - Operation weed removal

2010-06-07T23:11:00.000+01:00

The plot just prior to the deluge on the June Bank Holiday

The Good Life - Harvest on the 6th June

2010-06-06T13:05:00.000+01:00

Freshly uprooted white and red radish

The last three weeks have proved to be a period of prodigious growth in the allotment. Along with the growth of the vegetables we have also had to deal with the unwelcome advances made by weeds, which have become rampant in places. While we have been able to take small amounts of produce from the allotment over the last few weeks when thinning some of the early growth, this weekend the strong period of growth has enabled us to take a good variety of produce for the table. Lettuce, mustard leaf and radish crops are thriving at the moment along with the sorrel, perennial spinach and chard. A good salad now accompanies every meal and Corinne has served up nice dishes of chard gratinee.

Elsewhere in the allotment the turnips and beetroots have been transplanted and are growing well. Harry has also transferred his sweet corn from the glass house to the plot and lines of cabbages are appearing in the beds where available space remains.

Signs of plunder in my lettuce bed

The weather has been warm over the last few weeks accompanied and complimented by scattered showers. The Entry into summer has been sudden and the remnants of a cold winter and spring have not completely been left behind. We are still nervous about planting the patission, butternut squash and pumpkin which could be easily damaged by a cold snap. There is a change in the weather forecast over the next week and the weather is expected to become cooler once again. Caution prevails.

Dappled high cloud in the evening sky during the week

The Good Life - St George's mushroom

2010-05-26T23:31:00.002+01:00

A small panier of St George's Mushrooms

“Les Champignons dans la Nature” by J. Jaccottet [Neuchatel, 1925] opens with the following line: “L’Homme a eté creé pour la marche….” which simply translated means “Man was created for walking”. The improvements in transport noted then in 1925, which he lists as including electric trams and bicycles, reduced ones desire for walking and therefore ability to access the countryside and forests. For one who enjoyed nature as much as Mr Jaccottet, the day was always too short, the sun rose too late and set too early.

Anybody who has done some mushroom hunting will appreciate the fact that there is rarely enough time in the day to find what you are looking for. A combination of patience, luck and a good eye may bring good results but there is no replacement for experience in this pursuit. Finally, when you find the particular variety you have been looking for it is important to never reveal the location of your discovery. People have been known to go to their graves without parting with such closely held secret.

The are a small number of mushrooms which work their way through the earthy ground at this time of year, but among them the St George’s mushroom, which is also known as Tricholome de la St George, Thricholome Georgii L’Écluse and Mousseron du Printemps, is the most highly prized. While they are said to grow in meadows and grassland, they are most likely to be found on the edges of woods. The season described by most writers is from April to June and they traditionally emerge on or about St George’s day and continue in season for a few brief weeks.

In Ireland and England their caps are primarily white, but they can be found elsewhere coloured yellow ochre, and rare varieties are known to be brown or chamois. The caps, which have a dry appearance, vary in size but they can grow to be 15 cms in diameter. By the time they grow to any great size they are more than likely going to be providing refuge and nourishment to a small worm colony, so it is best to pick the small ones when they are found, and check the larger mushrooms for infestation. Beneath the caps the gills are white and fragile. This mushroom has a large foot and grows in tight groups, so you generally will find more than one in any one location. When cut in half the flesh is firm and white. One of the most distinctive characteristics of this mushroom is its smell; the odour is quite strong and pleasant, and has been described as resembling freshly milled flour.

Ignoring Mr Jaccottet's esprit de vivre, we steamed around the hillsides and meadows in an old Peugot 405, which cut down some of the vast wandering required to locate these mushrooms. With the small basket of mushrooms we had collected I decided to make an omelette. After cleaning them, they were cooked on a pan over a low flame in mountain butter with a little salt and pepper. We had earlier liberated some eggs from chickens nearby, and these were whisked and poured over the lightly cooked mushrooms. After two or three minutes I put some grated Comte cheese from Frasne on the runny surface of the uncooked egg and mushroom mixture and finished the omelette under a hot grill. It looked great and tasted really good, but I was scolded for not slicing the mushrooms finer and for overcooking the omelette. I accepted these criticisms graciously while drinking a glass of undated, but assuredly ancient, white wine from the Jura.

In preparation for the meal I found a book entitled “60 Champignons 190 Recettes” by Suzanne Fonteneau and Philippe Joly published in 1978. These authors rate their mushrooms with a star system; four stars being the best, and so on. I will not query why they did not chose a system of marks out of 10 or 5 for example, being nice round figures allowing for a wider variety for distinction, however in their opinion both the Truffe du Perigourd and Tricholome de la St George achieve the lofty and distinguished score of a perfect 4. Among the recipes they offer for the Tricholome de la St George is `Tricholome á la paysanne`. For this recipe you shall require 400 grams Tricholomes de la St Georges; 50 grams of butter; 2 spoons of vinegar; 1 spoon of flour; 1 egg; half a glass of dry white wine;2 spoons of bouillon; salt and pepper.

The method given is as follows: After cleaning the mushrooms, cut them into slivers (remember not coarsely or in chunks!). Gently cook them with half the butter and the vinegar. At the same time make a roux with the remainder of the butter and the flour and mix in the suggested half glass of white wine and the bouillon. All this time, you should keep the juice of the mushrooms moving on the pan seasoning with salt and pepper. The recipe is completed by turning the mushrooms onto the sauce, mixing together, and just before serving stir in the egg yolk into the ensemble to bind it together.

The recipe as given does make sense however; you may wish to experiment with another variety of mushroom and the suggested quantities a few times to gain some confidence in it and to satisfy yourself in advance of cooking these highly prized mushrooms. I would also suggest using white wine vinegar in preference to any other, and it appears that the tablespoon measurement is the weapon choice for this recipe.

A traffic jam or "bouchon" in the Haut Doubs, Franche Comté

The Good Life - Gooseberries

2010-05-24T07:44:00.002+01:00

Green gooseberries in May

In recent years gooseberries have disappeared from shops and vegetable counters. Is it the case they are not made available for sale due to a lack of or waning popularity? Does a box of gooseberries get in the way of the old staple fruit such as apples and oranges? Or are people more interested in buying dragon fruit, sharon fruit, passion fruit, mangoes and other exotic tropical fruits flown or shipped in from all over the world? As a result are there any growers left?

There is something that draws me to the humble gooseberry. When I was quite young I discovered the the bushes needed to be handled with care because they are very thorny and one needs a certain amount of patience when dealing with them. As a child I am sure I was neither careful nor patient. The berries grow in a variety of colours, yellow, green, red and apparently a white berry exists. They vary in their sweetness but beneath the odd hairy, durable and veined skin is a flesh full of flavour with a refreshing and almost exciting bittersweet combination. While the red varieties are relatively sweet the green gooseberry can be quite bitter and best eaten one at a time.

There are many of varieties of the basic gooseberry or ribes uva crispa, including, to name but a few, Invicta, Greenfinch, Whinham’s industry, Jewetta, Careless, Woodpecker, Just Betty, Montrose, Surprise and Admiral Beattie. Across the north of England during the 18th and 19th Centuries there were many agricultural shows where fanatical growers would cultivate and experiment generating new varieties to compete and show their gooseberries.

Throughout his researches during the middle of the 19th Century, Charles Darwin posed to himself, and indeed many others, countless questions on the variation of species of animals and plants, exploring his theories of transmutation and natural selection. In particular, he continually targeted variation through domestication and cultivation based upon the reported experiences of pigeon fanciers and cottage gardeners to name but a few. Darwin himself famously had 54 different varieties of gooseberry bush in his garden at Down in Kent. He often advertised and encouraged correspondence on specific subjects that captured his attention from time to time and one such request appeared on the topic of gooseberries in the Journal of Horticulture and Cottage Gardener on the 2 December 1862 almost three years after publishing “On the Origin of Species”.

He published the following in a notice:

“The fruit of the wild gooseberry is said to weigh 5 dwts. (I am surprised it is so heavy), and from various records I find that towards the close of the last century the fruit had doubled in weight; in 1817, a weight of 26 dwts. 17 grs. was obtained; in 1825, 31 dwts. 13 grs.; in 1841 “Wonderful” weighed 32 dwts. 16 grs.; in 1845, “London” reached the astonishing weight of 36 dwts. 16 grs., or 880 grains. I find in the “Gooseberry Register” for 1862, that this famous kind attained only the weight of 29 dwts. 8 grs.; and was beaten by “Antagonist.” Will anyone have the kindness to inform me whether it is authentically known that the weight of 36 dwts. 16 grs., has since the year 1845, ever been excelled?”

The seriousness of these competitions he referred to cannot be underestimated. They might have been conducted with the outward appearance of a friendly and community spirit between growers that could have competing against each other for decades, however the weight measurements are to this day recorded in drams, grains and pennyweights troy, a unit of measurement more commonly associated with a measurement of weight for precious metals than fruit. The oldest show still running today is held by the Egton Bridge Old Gooseberry Society on the first Tuesday in August. In 2009 the Whitby Gazette announced the new world record weight of a gooseberry which had been entered into this prestigious show by champion grower Bryan Nellist. The “Woodpecker” which won the Harland Challenge Cup weighed 35 drams; 39.867 pennyweights troy.

At this time of year, those lucky enough to have a good crop of gooseberries should begin thinning them, removing about half of the crop to allow the remaining gooseberries room to grow. I am this lucky and will commence a bit of thinning at the end of May once they have had a chance to plump up just a little more. These “green” gooseberries are not thrown away or to be wasted. They are edible and can be introduced into tarts, preserves and jams. One interesting recipe which twins these young berries with another seasonal companion appears in an excellent book entitled “Forgotten Skills of Cooking”, page 444 to 445, by Darina Allen.

For Gooseberry and Elderflower Jam you shall require the following: 1.6 kgs. of green gooseberries, 5 or more elderflower heads tied in a muslin bag, and 1.6 kgs. of warmed sugar. You might wish to consider picking your elderflowers on a bright sunny day. To make the jam, place the gooseberries and the muslin bag of elderflowers into a preserving pan with 600mls of water after washing, topping, and tailing the berries. Simmer the fruit until it has softened and the contents of the pan have reduced by a third. Remove the muslin bag and add the sugar. The jam should be boiled rapidly until setting point is reached and thereafter placed into sterile warm jam jars, and sealed. Some people calculate setting point by the clock, others by temperature, however the time honoured way is to draw your finger across the back of the wooden spoon you have used to stir the jam. If the jam does not flow back into the area you have drawn your now blistered and burnt finger, the setting point will have been reached. This recipe should yield 6 x 450 gram pots of jam.

The Good Life - Seasonal allotment philosophy

2010-05-16T22:46:00.001+01:00

The seven-spot ladybird (Coccinella septempunctata)

There was a constant stream of rain showers across the country last week however most of them managed to bypass our little garden. The first slugs have emerged from the dank dark world they occupy but as yet there is limited evidence of them in allotment. Corinne is returning to France soon with the primary objective of returning with my Christmas present to her; "50 facons d'assassiner les limaces" [50 ways to kill slugs]. This authoritive tome should provide valuable assistance in the weeks to come. Nature's great counter offensive to the nasty aphid population has also arrived on site. Brightly coloured ladybirds have appeared in force to commence their annual feast. The less common 22 spot lady bird can also be found at this time of year. These guys prefer a diet of microscopic fungi and mildew which they find on plants.

The cool recent temperatures may have slowed growth in the last two weeks but the annual cycle of the seasons never ends. Swifts and swallows, yet another cornerstone of summer, have also made to Ireland's green shores despite numerous reports of delays imposed by closed aerospace and volcanic ash clouds. We hope this weekend will be a turning point and signal the end of a prolonged cold spell, bringing a return to normal temperatures for this time of year. We have been quite cautious for fear many plants might perish and have decided to delay putting down the courgettes, pumpkin, patisson, and corn, to name but a few,. This weekend we spent a lot of time transplanting the lettuce, turnips and carrots to new beds. We think cabbage seed may have become mixed with the lettuce seed, because we have some very odd looking lettuce with robust dark green leaves. These mystery plants have also been transplanted and given a new home.

I have discovered one of the most remarkable things about working on an allotment is the fact that you become thoroughly absorbed in it to the exclusion of so many other daily activities. I often lose track of the time and find that we arrive at the shops to do the weekly shopping last thing on Sunday evening covered in muck and dirt. Following the news seems less relevant, especially at a time when the media are behaving like merchants of doom and gloom concentrating on the past, current difficulties, shortcomings and failures, with little or no consideration of the future. I find the allotment is the perfect anecdote to the morose content of current affairs. Over recent weekends in the allotment, we have rarely had a chance to dwell on the past. In the world of the allotment a disappointment is always short lived even though the compost heap may be full of them. I may have persisted with my gooseberry bushes for two years while they promised nothing but barren thorn ridden branches but beside them the raspberries would always be abundant in fruit. Running an allotment is possibly the purist pursuit in optimism you can have.

The word mistake is rarely used. In circumstances where an error is made, it is easily covered up and forgotten or is simply put down to experience with no loss of face. While the scale of the allotment may be quite small your focus is solely fixed on the future; the next phase of planting; and planning the extended harvest of various crops; and last but not least dealing with the pests, and attending anger management classes to address the sensible slaughter of thousands of slugs. There is very little to regret - except perhaps this week and the non-appearance or germination of my tomatoes.

A pretty 22 spot lady bird (Psyllobora vigintiduopuntata) on a nettle leaf

The Good Life - No rabbits allowed!

2010-05-09T10:23:00.001+01:00

This is myself watering the triffids at sunset - Photo by Moritz "the Sicilian"

The recent rain has brought about a discernable amount of growth. Weeds are abundent of course and grow with unusual rapidity. Seeds that have slowly germinated in the last few weeks have fresh leaves after emerging from the darkness of the soil; the carrots, beetroot, lettuce and spring onions are now readily recognisable albeit still diminutive. The deep green leaves of the potato plants have emerged from the crusty earth. Surprises are plentiful elsewhere as the gooseberry and redcurrant fruit have begun to form and the first sighting of a thin lonely spear of asparagus. Of the five asparagus crowns we planted on the fifth April, this solitary spear will hopefuly have set the example for his fellow spears and demonstrates some promise for future months, although they shall be required to grow through for the first two years before harvesting.

Fruit forming on the red currants

Although it is practically the middle of May, the weather is still somewhat unstable for planting young vegetables. The weather is improving and temperatures are rising, however the wind is still predominately from the north east and the damaging chill of winter remains with us for the moment, threatening tender young seedlings, and pushing back planting plans. Dwarf yellow beans which we planted three weeks ago have had to be dug up and new drills sown due to recent ground frosts which killed the plants. The extra time afforded to us due to the delayed planting schedule has allowed us develop some of the more difficult ground at the front of the allotment. In the last few days we have been digging and developing a small complex of new raised beds. Harry has also been working hard on the allotment during the weeks. He told us he found a tonne of bark (in an as yet undisclosed place known as "somewhere") and the walkways are now quite neat and hopefully will be weed and mud free for the foreseeable future.

Some new digging and raised beds

In the last few weeks we have seem a number of young rabbits about looking to gorge themselves on young leaves. Other allotment holders have found them hiding under upturned wheel barrows. We think our little patch is pretty much rabbit proof at this stage, and have dug the wire into the ground to prevent burrowing. Corinne is considering putting up a notice to ward them off. It was originally entitled "No Rabbits Allowed". This sign has been since changed to read "Rabbits strictly by appointment only".

Primroses

Blossom from a wild prune tree

The Dandelion wine was siphoned into the demi johns on Tuesday the 27th April. Having given it some thought, I decided to add a teaspoon of wine yeast to kick the fermentation process off, and since then it has been bubbling away in the corner and keeping us entertained. Every now and again froth develops on the surface of the mixture and will suddenly recede, but all the time the fine bubbles rise to the surface causing the fermentation trap to bubble and gurgle away. We have also opened a few bottles of the nettle beer which is approximately two weeks in the bottle. The first bottle was certainly an active brew, because I had primed the bottle with a teaspoon of demerara sugar. Luckily mugs were on hand and very little beer ended up being wasted. Subsequent bottles were more of the gentle sparkling variety, and the beer exited the bottle without ceremony in the normal way, which was a relief. It was served chilled with a slice of lemon and it tasted very refreshing and palatable. To reduce the ceremonial type pressure there are a number of options available; I might use less sugar priming the bottle or simply wash the inside of the bottle with a sugar solution.

As May begins the countryside is full of colour at this time of year for a very brief period. Along with the abundant and easily recognisable dandelion explosion, the last two weeks heralded the more subtle arrival of the pretty yellow primrose. The primrose grows in small tufts on grassy lanes, railway sidings and in secluded watery ditches. The cherry and apple trees are now bright and coloured with blossom and among the hedgerows the wild prunus and hawthorn are full of delicate while blossom. A brisk wind or heavy rainfall will carry the delicate blooms to the ground to be forgotten for another year.

Corinne dreaming about her garden in the evening sunshine

The Good Life - Rain

2010-04-25T23:54:00.015+01:00

View from the shed where sheltered during the showers

There are holes in the sky where the rain gets in

But they're ever so small

That's why the rain is thin

Spike Milligan

Nearly four weeks of dry weather ended on Saturday evening as gradually but surely isolated droplets of rain began to fall through the small holes in the sky. Initially I could count the drops on the windscreen of Corinne's car, monitoring with interest the possibility of a downpour, and after about 20 minutes of it became clear we would have a decent shower or two overnight. Harry worships the rain, and waxes lyrically about the special nourishment all vegetation receives from it. He often says that the watering can is no substitute for the rain and in his experience plants would be jumping out the ground after a good spell of rain.

The first radish; a striking 1960's red against our 1960's baby blue table

Harry always recommends a steady slow pace of work in order to make it through to the end of the day. He has numerous stories, approaching the status of parables of a bygone age, from his days working with Dublin Corporation. In between planting a few rows of onions Harry broke off and told me a story of a man he used to work with. He had been tasked with the preparation of a patch of ground for a lawn and half way through the day, but not the job itself, a manager arrived on site and insisted the grass be sewn that evening. After a moments thought, this man seeing the impossibility of the demand and the lack of knowledge or his supervisor, responded with a moderate amount of Dublin sarcasm, and requested permission to mow the grass the following morning. We laughed heartily for a while before casually progressing onto the few remaining shallots, while Corinne was slaving away elsewhere in the allotment transplanting beans.

Corinne sorting through the dandelion flower heads

Bright full blooming dandelions during a sunny spell in the afternoon

There has been a fantastic growth of dandelions in the last three weeks and recently I have been reading about traditional Midday Dandelion Wine. I suggested to Corinne that we might try to make a batch. She seemed to be quite enthusiastic and told me her father made many bottles of what they called vin de pissenlits in France and went on to say that it tasted very nice. I was immediately sold on the idea, and when we had a break on Sunday afternoon I walked across to a neighbouring field and set about collecting as many dandelions as I could. The idea is to pick the flowers at midday or when they are fully open. After about two hours I had tired of the constant picking and bending routine, and became slighly worried by the fact my fingers were being stained black, and returned to Corinne. For a good hour we picked through the flowers watching the little beatles make their escape from the pile of yellow flowers while removing as much of the green leaves and stalk from beneath the flower head as possible.

Upon returning home, I measured out 8 pints of flowers into a clean bucket and then poured 16 pints of boiling water over them finally covering the bucket with a clean cloth. The recipe stipulates that they be left to steep for two days and no longer. The mixture must then be strained and poured back into a pot and brought to the boil. For the quantities I am using, I must use the zest of 8 oranges and boil the mixture for ten minutes. The mixture must then be strained again through a muslin cloth into a clean bucket containing what I am currently calculating to be 6 pounds of sugar, making sure to dissolve the sugar. When cooled sufficiently, the juice of the oranges and the yeast can be added, and this mixture can be poured into a secondary fermentation vessel with a fermentation trap, and allowed to ferment completely.

Corinne's father has warmed me already that yeast will not be necessary as this mixture will ferment like crazy. Furthermore he recommended I should leave at least 20% free space in the demi john to deal with the highly active fermentation process. The English recipes recommend racking and bottling the wine when it becomes clear and to allow it to age six months in the bottle before tasting. Corinne's father differs on this point as well, and being French he is probably more patient with the whole process. He advises bottling the wine after a year and promises us time will improve the wine. In any event my next date with the dandelions is Tuesday evening when I must strain the mix and add the zest and sugar, and make a decision in the yeast.

The forecast for the week is good for the allotment because showers are forecasted for just about everyday during the week providing good prospects for the initial growth period and reported green shoots. The Irish economy may not be as fortunate as every week brings with it revelations of financial impropriety. The unimaginative politician's refrain of green shoots has now lapsed only to be replaced with the specter of projected economic growth, which it must be said would sound more convincing from an old haggard gypsy clasping a crystal ball.

The Good Life - Green shoots

2010-04-19T22:57:00.005+01:00

Redcurrants beginning to flower

The good weather has continued for yet another weekend and the green shoots of growth are everywhere to be seen in the allotment. The beans and peas have broken through the caked dy earth and I have been sowing more peas in order to lengthen the harvest period when it arrives. There are early signs of slug visitations, so we must be vigilant to prevent these guys from taking up permanent residence. There have alsobeen lush green leaves appearing on the currant bushes, some of which are already bearing small flowers. The leaves on the raspberry canes are slowly shooting and we expect to have a good crop from them throughout the year in the berry garden. In contrast the gooseberries are slow to show signs of life, but I am prepared for this annual disappointment.

Forcing the rhubarb has been profitable; the large drum covering the rhubarb crown was lifted off the ground such was the extent of the growth. It has since been plundered a few times for tarts and my personal favourite, rhubarb and walnut sponge.

We have three small nursery beds into which have been sewn a variety of lettuce, cress, mustard leaf, radish and beetroot. The mustard leaf is growing rapidly under a thin protective cover as have the radishes. Meanwhile the lettuce is somewhat frail and slow however they will soon grow to be big and healthy specimens once transplanted into a larger bed.

The colourful and rapid growing mustard leaf

My nettle beer brew was slow to ferment at first but after about three days the situation changed and the fermentation went into overdrive. The temperature of the room where I had left the brew was quite stable only dropping to a low of 16C and rising to a maximum of 19C during the week. By Sunday morning the fermentation had stopped and I racked the brew into my expensive swing top lemonade bottles priming each bottle with a teaspoon and a half of demerera sugar. I hope this does not mean I shall be picking shards of glass out of the walls in the coming days but it should guarantee a bubbly brew. Instead of tasting the beer after a few days I have decided to let it stand and clear for at least a week.

The next entry should be interesting. By then I will know the result of my labours. I may also know where I went wrong because I should have received Mary Aylett's book on Country Winemaking by then. In particular many of the recipes and methods I have read to date use cream of tartar in the process, and I must admit I do not understand what this ingredient actually brings to the mix, or what its purpose is. Mary might help out on this point! In any event, if it tastes good all will be well for a week or two; if it does not hit the spot the slugs will die happy. Corinne has suggested that we might experiment and develop a black fly treatment for the vegtables based upon the nettles; I have of course ignored this suggestion because picking nettles to fix a few black fly is not my idea of fun when a perfectly acceptable beer can be produced from them.

The skies have been remarkably clear since a little volcanic activity commenced in Iceland on or about midnight on the 14th April. Dublin normally has a lot of planes coming a going, and passing over on transaltlantic routes. Hence, it was quite remarkable to have an unmarked skies overhead late last week with not a single vapour trail to be seen. I have heard there are quite a few people looking for clean underwear and wondering when they will make it home, but the photograph below demonstrates just how empty and beautiful the sky above Dublin's docklands was on Thursday evening.

The Good Life - Sunshine, stories and tea breaks

2010-04-12T00:39:00.000+01:00

The allotment looks bare but there is life!

It has been a fantastic weekend in Dublin. The high pressure is well established and the the high cloud has yielded an uninterupted spell of sunshine for the last two days. We have moved from Winter to Spring in a matter of two weeks and the Birch have still not even begin to bud. However, when we were doing our shopping yesterday there were a number of people leaving the stores with BBQ sets and charcoal. Corrine says "En Avril ne te decouvre pas d'un fil, en Mai fait se qu'il te plait". In other words In April you wouldn't take off a thread, but in May you can do as you please. As I was digging I felt tempted to peel off a layer or two as the temperature rose however the arrival of a chilly sea breeze quickly changed my mind. The seasonal warm weather is welcome but you have to be wary.

The rise in temperature is evident in the ground as the seeds we have planted outdoors have been germanating; the radish, salsify, peas and various beans, lettuce and spring onion have been shooting strongly in the last week. The indoor crop is already a good handspan high except for the pumpkin and pattison which remain dormant beneath their thin duvet of clay and compost. We have also been boosting our berry garden by purchasing cambridge favourite strawberries, late producing black currants and early season red currants. All these have been purchased at Lisenhall Nurseries, which is well worth a mention, because everything we have purchased there was in excellent condition and had a very healthy root system, guaranteeing growth and fruit. This is in stark contrast to a few gooseberry cuttings my parents purchased for in a well known German cut price supermaket (begins in "L" and ends in "l"). Corinne and I planted a few asparagus crowns in the last two weeks and already there is a little evidence of growth as shoots are breaking out through the soil. The only problem is that I do not necessarily believe the shoots that are appearing are asparagus. This could spell some trouble for Corinne, the horticulturally trained half of the partnership. If I find she has planted some dodgy piece of inedible shrubbery, or worse still a flower of some sort, there will be hell to pay.

As my four litre batch of birch sap wine enters its fourth week of production, I have decided to extend my home production to nettle beer. After spending an hour and half collecting young nettle tips I had amassed just over a kilo. I thought they would be plentiful and everywhere for the taking, but the nettles were sporadic thriving in well shaded patches of the birch forest, or where new runners had spread growth rapidly to newly cleared ground. In taking some of the tips the nettle was so tender the runner would also be easily pulled from the ground.

The ever dependable radish;.they sprout quickly and make me look like I know what I am doing!

For this experimental brew I gathered just over a kilo of nettles and simmered them in a large pot with approximately 4.5 liters of water, and a dandilion root for a little bitterness, for about an hour. After leaving the nettles in their pot for a further period to stew, they were strained and I added a pound of sugar and the juice of a lemon to the chestnut coloured wash. The sugar dissolved quite easily at this stage because the wash was just over 40 celsius, however it took some time for the temperature of the liquid to drop below 30 celsius, the point at which the yeast can be added. Adding it at too high a temperature will kill the yeast. The idea is that you let the brew ferment for three or four days, or until fermentation has stopped and then bottle it with a little sugar in each bottle. Some recipes call for sugar syrup others a teaspoon of sugar. We have bought some nice French lemonade with swing top bottles to drink for the next few days, whereupon we can use these bottles to rack the fermented wash. Fingers crosssed all goes well, or else there could be a lot of scrubing and repainting in the spare room. Apparently the beer can drunk within a week but it may be best to let it rest for at least two weeks. As it is an experiment I suppose I should test it at various stages, but we shall see.

I planted potatoes with Harry on Saturday. As a retired parks man from Dublin Corporation and having learned his trade at the Botanic Gardens it was inevitable that every time he stood up to rest on his hands on top of his shovel he had a story to tell. This makes for a very pleasant way to draw breath and pace yourself through a job that was going to last for two hours as we went back and forth preparing the drills and planting potatoes. Over the last few weeks I had seen most people around us planting potatoes on their plots. They were meticulous in their digging, preparation of the drills, and laying in the potatoes. Some used pegs and lines for straightness, others measured the distance between the potatoes with tape measures and some extolled the various attributes of their favourite potato.

This is Harry (wearing hat far right) multi-tasking; listening, resting, giving advice peppered with abuse and milking the shovel.

Harry is quite layed back in this regard and we fitted our four rows into a raised bed with a minimum of fuss. On one break he stood up straight supporting his body weight yet again, possibly sniffing for tea in the air, with both hands set u[pon the top ofv his shovel. Corrine calls this stance "milking the shovel". He collecgted himself slowly and began to tell me a story of an old lady in her 90s who had once asked him for some advice on the way she had been planting her potatoes. Harry opted to answer her question with a question of his own and smiled inquiring "How long have you been doing it your way and what have the results been like?" She replied "Twenty years and the crop has always been excellent". Harry retorted "I wouldn't change a thing if I were you". We continued digging and finished the job; it was not neatest or straightest bit of planting as we guessestimated our way across the bed but Harry's wisdom and experience will always produce a good crop. He commented at one point: " I see alot of people here putting potaotes straight into the manure or dung in the bottom of their drills, but to prevent any potential burning of the seed potato you must spread a little barrier of peat compost, across the bed and then place it in the ground". And so the stories continued and the day went on: stories and tea breaks

Palermo at Easter

2010-04-03T19:02:00.004+01:00

A view looking over the bay of Palermo from Monte Pellegrino

I have taken a break from digging in the allotment, and office work, to visit friends in Palermo. It is almost a year since I was last here and I have been taking the opportunity to visit some of my favourite; the church of San Cataldo, the cathedral at Monreale and the wonderful bread from a small wood fired bakery there, and the lively street markets of Palermo. The weather is warm and the season's fruit and vegetable production is already well underway. Different varieties of artichokes, vast mounds of fennel, the first strawberries and citrus are sold on overloaded stalls or are being sold directly from the backs of piaggio or aprilia trucks. The fish markets are notable principally for the absence of the big tuna fish. They have not arrived yet, but their arrival is imminent because boxes of beautiful sardine are plentiful. The mackerel and swordfish, which also feed on the sardine are to be found in the market. Meanwhile, messages from Dublin keep me advised of the unseasonably inclement and cold weather conditions taking hold of Ireland.

Under Roger II, Palermo was the most important port and enlightened Court in the Mediterranean, and a shining light in the Medieval age. Sicily today is rudderless and Palermo has changed in the eleven moonths since I left. Recent elections promise little or no change because the same personnel are in charge of the continued slide into the abyss. The people are unhappy in a place where poverty is no stranger. Sicily has a reported unemployment of 30%, but as with everything official here the official figures mask a critical situation in order to present a more acceptable state of affairs than the actual reality. Heavily policed protests on the streets are the visible resistance to the loss of work and pending closure of local factories. There would appear to be little hope, and even less of a future here for most people. There is however some moderately good news in the papers this week. La Republicca in Palermo reports a hoard of silver removed from the site of Morgantina, (near Aidone in the province of Enna) during the early 1980s is to be returned to Sicily. This hoard of Hellenistic silver is currently on display in Rome having been on display and in the possession of the Metropolitan Museum, New York.

The atmospheric and undecorated interior of the mid 12th Century Byzantine inspired church of San Cataldo, Palermo.

To escape the chaos and populace of Palermo we decided to take the train to Cefalu. The train's destination was Messina, and as such it served every village and town along the way. Consequently, the two carriages which made up our train were full of people with luggage and crates of every size and shape. We slowly exited the predictable and decaying monotonous structures of the suburbs and when the train tracks retreated from the coast our journey took us through field after field of artichokes, and brightly coloured orange groves. While most people may have had a purpose for their trip, one poorly attired old man, with a northern European appearance, broke the silence and attempted to engage in conversation with his fashionable female Sicilian neighbour. His angular and broad face with narrowed eyes had focused upon a book she had in her hand. He inquired from her what she was reading. She initially attempted to ignore him, and resisted the conversation bringing her patent leather bag closer to her chest and lowering her head a little, but their proximity and his persistence, required her to communicate, and she did so reluctantly.

"Oscar Wilde" she said, but without giving the title, or softening her withdrawn expression. The man's eyes were suddenly alight and he smiled broadly as he began to speak to her warmly and with great interest in Oscar Wilde, and his own personal favourite work, "Salome". Unfortunately the well dressed and elegant lady had never heard of "Salome", and it was only through the gesturing of his hand to his neck and referencing San Giovanni this large and energetic old man managed to relate the background of the story of "Salome".

I could see the disappointment come upon him as she clearly did not know much about Oscar Wilde or "Salome", and once again he adopted a vacant and distant expression. After a few minutes he began checking through his meager belongings in search of something, and eventually drew out a leaflet on Oscar Wilde. She again resisted his overtures but relinquished once again and in doing so he proudly presented her with his valued leaflet. She looked at it, and accepting it she then read it with great interest. She smiled looking at him for the first time and inquired if she could keep the leaflet and the old man gestured to her generously and smiled. Oscar Wilde may have mused on such an encounter and possibly remarked: " There are two types of people that are really fascinating: people who know absolutely everything, and people who know absolutely nothing."

The mid 12th Century Byzantine mosaics at Cefalu commissioned by Roger II

Cefalu is a small coastal town with a little harbour and long beach which stretches practically to the next headland. There is something quite special about this place; the intensity of the suns light is reflected from the azure blue sea onto the patchwork of buildings that line promontory and the sandy shore next to the harbour. We had a lunch which consisted of an octopus salad and grilled swordfish before visiting the Norman cathedral or duomo. The entire cathedral is not decorated with Byzantine mosaic like the one at Monreale. Instead the golden mosaics are confined to the apsidal end of the church and in the vaulting above the altar.

Sprightly mountain goats made their way about the mountain more naturally than the day trippers

To the west of Cefalu there is a mountain which overlooks the quaint terracotta roofs of the town. Getting to the top requires some effort, and we were justly rewarded with not only vast panoramic views to the west along the coast, and to the north towards Ustica and the Lipari islands, but also the cooling breeze that passed over the mountain itself.

Throughout the Mediterranean the week before Easter, or Settimana Santa, is celebrated with processions along the streets of parishes, and quarters of most cities. For many years I spent Easter in Palma, but this year in Palermo I had an opportunity to witness the Sicilian celebration of Holy Week, and in particular the processions which took place in the city on Good Friday. Where the Spanish are robed in full gowns with pointed hats and veils, the Sicilians carried statues of the dead Jesus and Virgin Mary on large biers wearing impeccably tailoured black suits, with white shirts and black ties. Many of the concelebrants completed their ensemble with gold embroidered velvet gillet smocks over their well tailoured suits. Preceding the biers was an escort of Roman soldiers and women holding the instruments of passion. Shrill brass bands brought up the rear, with a wind section principally made up of clarinets, and a percussion section of deep drums and cymbals. They played somber, but uniquely Sicilian (to my limited ear), religious marching compositions.

A view of the congregation in front of Chiesa di Santa Caterina

We followed one procession for almost an hour as it slowly made its way from Corso Vittorio Emanuele to Piazza Bellini. The procession moved very slowly as the biers were raised and moved along for only a few meters before being lowered again. A man with a large black castanet signaled the raising and lowering of the biers. The well dressed elder gentlemen of the group marshaled the procession from the front and the rear. While the procession is as a religious one, these individuals take a notable and public role. The procession halted at Piazza Bellini and a female soprano sang two hymns from the steps of Chiesa di Santa Caterina which overlooked the gathering congregation. It must be said that she did so without being accompanied by the brass band who were improving as they went along. We parted company with the procession as it left Piazza Bellini and meandered its way deeper into the narrow streets of the city.

We have eaten on board in the port of Palermo most days enjoying the wonderfully fresh vegetables and fish which are available in the market. Moritz and Caryn have extended their Italian repetoire by including simple dishes such as spagetti a la norma and spagetti a la Romana. They have also managed to obtain recipes from friends. One in particular, Mama Paladino, has been a positive influence in the development of the menu of dishes served on board, offering invaluable instruction and guidence while sharing her vast knowledge. I will close out my adventure through Palermo's Holy Week with her very own recipe for Lasagne.

Quantities are not necessarily exactly defined in this oral tradition of passing on recipes. The following recipe may require some element of code breaking, deciphering and tinkering to achieve her high standards, however she regulates her own true D.O.P. Lasagne being composed of 2 or 3 onions finely chopped; 2 big carrots chopped, and two handfuls of celery finely chopped. 4 tablespoons of tomato paste (estratto di pomodori) and a tin of tomato concentrate (with no liquid). The other principal ingredients are 1 kg minced meat, olive oil, salt, pepper and sugar.Cook the onion, celery and carrots in the olive oil before adding the meat. While the meat is cooking dissolve the tomato paste in a little water and add this along with the tomato concetrate and 750mls of water to the pot with the meat and cooked vegetables. At this point you should add 2 tablespoons of sugar together with your salt and pepper and leave the lot to cook for an hour.

The bechemel sauce used by Mama Paladino is made up of 1 liter of milk, 1 cup of flour, salt and 4 tablespoons of butter. It must be pointed out that she adds grated parmasan cheese to her sauce; the exact quantity of which is a secret but linked to the consistency I believe.

Line a bowl with lasagne pasta before adding a thin layer of meat sauce. Then sprinkle with a layer of parmasan cheese before putting on another layer of lasagne pasta. Keep on repeating the process ending with meat sauce on top which should be covered with a bechemel sauce followed by another layer of pasta lasagne. This final layer of pasta is covered with bechemel sauce, a generous amount of grated parmasan cheese and dotted with knobs of butter. Once construction has been completed, it can be cooked for 30 minutes at 200C. Ciao Regazzi!

A box of octopus being sold at a street stall in Mondello

The Good Life - Seeds and weeds

2010-03-21T20:40:00.000Z

A view of the raised beds over our shrubs, watering cans, tubs and general junk which awaits a permanent home

There is a saying "Only God can make trees, but I am in charge of seeds and weeds". The weekend arrived and my chores were allocated rapidly by Corinne. She has consulted the lunar calender and announced we must plant legumes by close of business on Friday. Dutifully, and under her close supervision, I have planted seeds for our annual crop of cornichons, patissons, pumpkins, dwarf yellow beans and borlotti beans (all labeled in French which is to be expected). As it has been raining I am instructed the weeds will be gathering strength and I am to pick them from the beds as they appear. We have already plucked and cleared the soil of the deep rooted dandilions which in earlier times and in her native Franche Comte would have been forced, not unlike rhubarb, and harvested for a salad. The French have the following expression for the tenacity and depth of these roots "Manger les pissenlits par la racine" or "eating the dandelion by the roots" which roughly equates to the English expression of "pushing up daisies" implying death being a common denominator.

Enough about death and weeds. After five weeks the transplanting appears to have been successful, and the majority of the plants which have been moved over from the old allotment have survived, and some are flourishing. The rhubarb, chard and chives have all settled in well and buds on the currant bushes have also betrayed signs of life. For some reason my gooseberry bushes, which I am convinced are barren, continue to disappoint me by pretending to be dead. I know they will eventually sprout their distinctive leaves and ultimately disappoint me once again. It is their last chance to turn over a new leaf, or else they will be replaced by red currants!

Over the past few nights when our evening meal had been cleared away, Corrine set out seed trays on the table and we rummaged through the seed bag for seeds that could be sewn under the auspices of the lunar calender. On Saturday evening we sewed more dwarf yellow beans, courgettes and borlotti beans. My thoughts of last years dwarf yellow crop quickly wandered to the massive slug migration that took place towards these plants and the consequent devastation. I asked Corinne if she had considered slug countermeasures this year, and she immediately suggested we use trays of beer. This is a classic technique for luring Irish slugs to their doom. However, I did inquire about the whereabouts of my Christmas present to her; the romantic first edition of "50 facons d'assassier les limaces" by Sarah Ford ("50 ways to kill slugs"). I was informed the book was unfortunately on a short term loan to a French friend and would not be available for consultation.

Planting the onions in drills

Sunday was spent digging dung into the soil and enriching the raised beds; raking them and removing a vast quantity of stones. Following the hard work, we set about planting garlic, onions and shallots in neat shallow drills. Taking advantage of the warm sunny weather and imminent rainfall, Corinne also sewed salisify, beetroot, carrots, parsnips, tarragon and radish. A fleece cloth was staked down over the beds to protect the freshly sewn crop from any frost that may rest upon the ground. The long cold Winter may have just ended but the fingers of Jack Frost still caress the land most nights and may damage seedlings if they lie unprotected. For the next five days I must retreat to my indoor life and existence, with my bright red face, and be somewhat diligent working at my desk, occasionally imagining the growth and developments in the allotment.

The Good Life - No pain no gain!

2010-03-14T16:20:00.002Z

Fourth weekend of work on the new allotment - some progress visible!

The day finally came where we had to say good bye to the patch of ground which we toiled over, and planted with great energy and vigor in the past few years. The allotment, or "Venice" as I used to call it had its faults, mainly at high tide and when it rained, however we worked hard to enrich the ground and managed to get cultivate a reasonable production between the months of March and December. In fact we left Jerusalem artichokes in the ground and were digging them up as recently as two weeks ago.

As we closed the gate on the old allotment Fingal County Council allocated us another plot, and for the last three weeks we have been labouring away turning the soil with a fork and spade. My mind constantly wandered to the hard life of a medieval farmer who might have tilled his fields by hand. Thankfully my efforts at digging were further improved by our neighbour John, who rotivated the ground following the digging.

The rhubarb has survived and is leaping out of the ground

Corinne had a limited amount of time to target and rescue a number of plants for transplanting into the new allotment. The first task was to transplant the rhubarb; now over 2 years old the root system was prolific and it took us in excess of an hour to release its grip on the ground. The artichokes also made the cut and also had surprisingly large root systems. The rhubarb immediately found a home, and a large bucket was placed over it to begin forcing the growth. Last weekend while doing the shopping I saw some magnificent pale forced rhubarb from Holland and can only hope our transplanting has not shocked the root systems.

I escaped for an hour this morning to tap two silver birch trees and collect their sap. For a few weeks in March the silver birch [betula pendula] draws up a fructose rich sap into the trunk of the tree, being the nourishment required to kick start the Spring growth and the budding of the new leaves on the branches. A hole is drilled approximately 30mm deep into the trunk of the tree, about 1.5 meters above the ground. The sap will start to flow immediately and you can insert a metal tube with hose attached to collect the sap in a container. It can be used to make a wine or reduced to make a syrup. The syrup is not so easy to produce because you would need over 100 liters of sap to produce one liter of syrup.

There are quite a variety of recipes on the internet for making birch sap wine. Some use modern wine making technology employing various tablets and concentrates. I find the whole topic of country winemaking quite intriguing, since my first foray with elderflower cordial, which fermented rapidly and is now an accidental sparkling wine (success at last). The subject requires further reading to avoid mishaps and exploding jars, so I have decided to educate myself with Mary Aylett's "Country Winemaking", 1953 (now out of print but thankfully available on www.allibris.com ). For this experiment I have decided to steer clear of the complication of syrups and campden tablets, and prefer a rather simple recipe I have found on the river cottage website. This will produce a relatively clear dry wine I believe without the added flavours of apple or grape. More on this topic to follow.

As the raised beds have been prepared, we have gradually planted the sorrel, thyme, spinach and chard. Adjacent to this bed we have set down our "berry garden" (always wanted one of these!); gooseberries, raspberries, white currants, red currants and black currants form the backbone of this vital part of our Summer production liberally fed with a healthy layer of potash and horse shit(e).

We have a break mid week for Saint Patrick's day and we might get a few more hours work in on the allotment in advance of the anticipated long hours of hard labour at the weekend. Today the wind has moved into the south west for the first time in nearly two months, and while the temperatures have picked up and spring noticeably advances, I believe we may have some rainfall in the next few days. When the weekend arrives it will be interesting to observe how this allotment stands up to a spell of persistent rain.

Hopefully it will taste as good as it looks

The Roman town of Vienne - Gallia Lugdunensis 2

2010-02-28T12:31:00.008Z

A view from Mount Pipet above the Roman theatre and looking up the Rhone and across the river to Saint Romain-en-Gal

I stood on the platform at Gare Part Dieu waiting for my train. The announcement for the arrival of the train had been made and I patiently waited for it. The train was destined for Gare St Charles in Marseille, and stopping at Vienne en route. The announcement referred to platform "E", but in French, as everybody knows, the letter "I" is pronounced "E". Consequently, as I was inquiring from the stationmaster about my train on platform "E", he retorted by pointing across a couple of platforms, gesticulating at a train as it glided easily out of the station on time. An hour or so later I was on my way south heading towards Vienne. That evening Corinne would say that I might have made the same mistake if it was announced as platform "G", because of course as everybody knows the letter "J" is pronounced as "G". She smiled and inquired if I had felt terribly stupid at the time. Not sensing any sympathy I also smiled and ignored the comment.

If I had little interest in Roman Archaeology and the Roman provinces of Gaul and Germania, I might never have heard of Vienne and possibly might not have expressed an interest in stopping there for a visit. Prior to the arrival of the Romans, Vienne was the capital city of the Allobroges tribe, one of the most powerful Gallic tribes controling territory that stretched from the Rhone valley to the Alps. While the Allobroges had some contact and relations with Rome prior to the Gallic Wars, their fate was inevitable once Julius Caesar showed up in Gaul with his legions. The settlement was elevated to the status of a Colonia and despite the turbulent political chicanery of the late Roman Republic Colonia Julia Vienna flourished, in tandem with its neighbour Lugdunum [Lyon].

Both Lugdunum and Vienna thrived enjoying all the favour and infrastructure that one would associate with prominent Roman cities. They both had an Odeon and Theatre built, and both cities had a circus for chariot racing, a true barometer of a high level of romanisation. Most people associate the amphitheatre and circus buildings with Roman urban infrastructure. However, the circus was in fact quite rare and typically associated with provincial capitals. Four were built in Gaul; Lugdunum [Lyon], Vienna [Vienne], Arelate {Arles] and Santos [Saintes]. The structures of most of these circuses are no longer visible; the circus in Vienne was excavated during the 19th Century and early 20th Century and little of it remains visible today. However, in Vienne one of the obelisks from the spina still remains in its original position. The date for the Circus is not definite but it may have been developed at a similar time to the one at Lugdunum, which we know from inscription evidence was developed or extended during the 2nd Century A.D.

Obelisk, known locally as La Pyramide, from the Roman circus at Vienne

The future of another Roman circus is currently lying in the balance, a little further north of Gaul, at Colchester in England. Known to the Romans as Camulodunum, this site was a provincial capital and while its prominence may have waned with the passage of time, it is obvious that the settlement enjoyed considerable status in the Roman Britain, and the citizens of Camulodunum appear to have had a keen interest in chariot racing. The circus was discovered in 2004 and may be consigned to history in the near future. I would respectfully suggest that replacing a Roman circus with a modern residential development is an act of vandalism and a desperate error in judgment.

View looking north across the cavea of the theatre, Vienne

The theatre in Vienne commands dramatic views over the town, and indeed up and down the Rhone river valley. The archaeological finds from the vicinity of the theatre suggest it was constructed in the mid 1st Century A.D. Constructed against the end of the colline Pipet with small valleys or cuts on either side, the site proved to be the perfect location for a large theatre facilitating the construction larges structures on either side for the management of the spectators access and egress. The diameter of the theatre is 129.8 meters, and it is estimated it could have seated 11,000 spectators. In form, the theatre at Vienne was quite similar to the one at Orange; it originally had a large scaenae frons structure estimated to have been 32 meters in height. The scaenae frons would have been roofed and was terminated at either end by a large basilica block. The orchestra measured 19 meters from which the vast cavea rose quite steeply to a height of 28.5 meters. Underneath the cavea there are the two hemispherical barrel vaulted passages or vomitoria facilitating the easy movemnt of the spectators. Neither the extremities of these passages nor the cavea and seating above them have been restored.

View looking south across the cavea of the theatre, Vienne

I arrived mid morning and the sun had still not brought about a rise in the air temperature. The orchestra and cavea of the theatre were coated in an undisturbed perfect white covering of snow. It was surprising the theatre was open, but I managed to clamber around eager to experiece the great prospects across the theatre from either end of the summa cavea. Underfoot the cavea was lethal; as I walked across the modern flat stage below I had slipped several times and 28 meters above the orchestra I took the greatest of care moving around.

During the 18th Century the structure was believed to be the vestiges of a Roman amphitheatre. This long held belief was born out by the street name in the area, because the street that runs along the front of the theatre is called Rue du Cirque. The restoration began on the cavea when a number of properties were purchased allowing for the clearance, excavation and restoration of the site. The theatre finally opened in 1938 and today just over 2/3 of the cavea is available for seating.

View looking down on the cavea and orchestra from the top of the hill behind the theatre

Prior to this excursion in Lyon, while lunching with my new found friends at Les Adrets on Rue du Boeuf, I was advised to take the time to have lunch at Vienne. After visiting the theatre, and climbing up to the top of colline Pipet behind the theatre, a hunger had set in. I made my way back down through the town and towards 34 Cours du Verdun and to a restaurant called Les Saveurs du Marche, which I was reliably informed was one of the best places to eat in Vienne. I was not disappointed and enjoyed a simple well prepared and presented formule du midi, accompanied by the habitual pot of Cote du Rhone.

The portico of temple of the divine Augustus and Livia, Place Charles de Gaulle, Vienne

Time was running out and there was still a lot to see in Vienne. The modern town of Vienne has not developed greatly in the last 2000 years. Newer buildings have clearly employed the stones of their predecessors and in no place is this more evident than Place Charles de Gaulle. One of the most interesting Roman monuments in Vienne is the Temple of the divine Augustus and Livia. The temple benefited from the attentions of Prosper Merimee, who was responsible for it being classified as a national monument, along with other sites in Vienne, in 1840. On the 24th July 1835 Merimee published his "Notes d'un voyage dans le midi de la France". He visited Vienne on his tour of France in his capacity as Inspector of National Monuments and made the following comments on the condition of this temple:
"My first place to visit was the museum, presently established in a little antique temple, which was in the past converted to a church and horribly disfigured. The columns which surrounded the cella were now engaged in an ugly masonry, and if this was not enough of a barbarity, they have also chipped away the fluting of the columns, for the purpose of aligning them with the enclosing wall."

Significantly the temple in Vienne is one of two Roman temples left in tact in France, the other being the Maison Carree at Nimes. The masonry walls have now been taken away and the columns, some of which have been ravaged by time and the masons chisel, continue to support the architrave and entablature and pediment of the temple. Place Charles de Gaulle is today raised above the antique levels and an incline rises slightly towards the west side, and despite being set on a lower level of the square the temple surrounded by its barrier, stands with great stature and importance surrounded by more recent featureless and irregular constructions.

A broken colossal head neatly placed on an upturned capital, Musee Archeologique Eglise St-Pierre

Much of the collection of stones, cut masonry, and statuary that would have been found in the Museum at Vienne visited by Merimee in the 1830s must now be in the Musee Archeologique Eglise St Pierre. This building is one of the oldest Churches in France dating back to the 5th and 6th Century and was most likely built on Roman foundations. Wandering around the large blocks which carry the marks of some distant important message, one finds broken colossal heads and elsewhere sandaled feet. I recently saw pictures of similar pieces being hauled out of the ground in Turkey at Sagalossos, and thereafter at the British Museum where some of the same items were displayed in the exhibition on Hadrian. In Vienne today these giant sculptures are hidden in a dimly lighted church dating to the 5th century, underneath which are to be found the foundations of ancient walls, streets, sewers and graves of a prolific Roman town.

A marble statue of Tutela, a Gallo-Roman goddess associated with Vienne

More recent discoveries found in excavations are exhibited in this museum, of which the statue of Tutela is the most striking. It stands out as being one of the more better preserved objects in the collection and was found during the excavation of the baths or thermes in 1954. Among the mosaics to be seen in this collection is the mosaic of the masks which is attributed to mosaic workers of the third Century A.D.. There are a vast array of objects to be found in this collection which are the soul surviving components of structures from the Roman town, and many of these items only exist today through the efforts of Pierre Schneyder who collected, recorded and investigated the vestiges of Roman structures during the latter half of the 18th Century.

Detail of mosaic of the masks at Musee Archeologique Eglise St-Pierre

Across the river Rhone is the smaller modern town of St Romain-en-Gal, which was an affluent residential and commerical area of the Roman town of Vienna. Discoveries of mosaics and other artifacts have been occurring in this area for over two hundred years, many being lost forever due to the weather, once exposed, or the use of the land. The area was well preserved because in the years subsequent to the Roman occupation, it was used primarily as an orchard, and not developed. However, as it was about to be built upon in the late 1960s, further discoveries were made and since 1981 a team of archeologists have been on site. In 1985 the site was classified as an historic monument and a museum now stands above a portion of the 7 hectare site housing many of the mosaics and finds from the excavations.

Central panel from an Orpheus mosaic, Musee Gollo Romain Saint Romain-en-Gal

Mosaic from Musee Gollo Romain Saint Romain-en-Gal

The Musee Gallo Romain Saint Romain-en-Gal, exhibits a magnificent amount of material found in the excavations. They reveal details of everyday life of the people that lived in Roman Vienna, and in particular the surroundings associated with the wealthy residential dwellings they occupied. Consequently, it is an important insight into the cultural identity of an important economic and commercial urban centre in Gaul. Many of the mosaics are well preserved however the two Orpheus mosaics found survive in fragmentary form. Portions of colourful frescoes that adorned the walls have also been excavated and preserved; one does not have to be too imaginative to envisage examples of the better preserved decoration from the walls in Pompeii and Boscoreale existing in Vienne.

It is surprising how much is visible of Roman Vienna and indeed the extent of the areas which are still to be investigated and excavated. As I have suggested, the Roman remains rest just below the surface or form part of the fabric of the Modern town of Vienne. A number of sites are undeveloped and await attention. One such structure is the Odeon which was built into the hillside of Saint-Juste. It is important because very few Roman towns were provided with a theatre and an Odeon; in particular only Lyon and Vienne had an Odeon and theatre complexes in Gaul. The Odeon in Lugdunum [Lyon] is quite well restored, however the Odeon in Vienne remains closed to the public. One can view the Odeon from further up the hillside of Saint-Just and look down upon the cavea structure without the seating, which would have been similar to the condition Prosper Merimee would have seen the theatre in the early 19th Century.

A view through a locked gate of the Odeon at Vienne

The cavea of the Vienne Odeon structure measured 72 meters in diameter and had an orchestra which measured 22.3 meters in diameter. The Odeon at Lyon measured 73 meters in diameter and hence one cannot resist making comparisons between these structures. There was an impressive outer hemispherical wall pierced by three doorways, in much the same way as the Odeon built in Lyon. At Vienne the pulpitum, pro scaenum and portions of the scaenae frons area are still visible depite the covering of snow, when I saw this overgrown and dilapidated parcel of ground. The construction of the Odeon at Vienne probably dates to the second century A.D. and would have been a well decorated structure with statuary, and marble veneers from across the Roman Empire.

My visit to Vienne was brief, but I did managed to get a good understanding of the Roman town that existed there. In fact, I was left with an impression that Rome and its culture was not as distant as it could have been; the veins of the citizens of Vienna clearly ran with loyal Roman blood, and that there was a strong connection with not only Rome, but the Empire itself. In particular, what struck me was the wealth of material found at Vienne and in contrast the lack of material to be found in Orange, which would have been in the heart of Gallia Narbonnensis. This may be due to a lack of opportunities to investigate and excavate the lands surrounding Orange, but I did form the opinion from leafing through the field archeology magazines on the news stand waiting for my train, that discoveries of Roman villas and sites continued and that a great deal of Roman archeology remained hidden just below the surface of many French villages and towns.

An evening view looking south down the Rhone river valley from Vienne

A day trip to Orange and the Roman theatre

2010-02-20T13:41:00.005Z

Roman theatre at Orange, view of the scaenae frons

Originally in planning our trip to Lyon I thought we might base ourselves in Orange for a night or two and travel to Arles and Nimes. Upon reflection this itinerary would have proved to be impossible and require us to rush form place to place. Ultimately we would not have had enough time to enjoy Lyon. Consequently we confined ourselves to a day trip to Orange. Corinne fanatasized about an increase in the temperature, however despite the bright sunshine this never materialised. Our route south during the morning bore witness the gradual build of the increasingly chilly wind which followed our route down the valley of the Rhone. Thoughts of peeling off a few layers of warm clothing disappeared and she put on an extra fleece to retain some warmth in the cold air.

A view of the Roman theatre in Orange by Hippolyte Destailleur (1822 - 1893)

The Romans settled in the area were veterans of the second Gallic Legion. This settlement is reputed to have taken place occurred in or about 35 B.C. close to the site of a Gallic hill fort, home to the Tricastini tribe. The site was named Colonia Julia Secundanorum Arausio. Today one can view the well preserved monuments built by these Roman settlers; the theatre and triumphal arch. Arausio became an administrative centre for the region of modern day northern Provence, a few kilometers from the river Rhone, and enjoyed a certain amount of stability until it was sacked by the Visigoths in 412 A.D. As such you would expect to find more evidence of Roman life in the local museum but its collection is quite limited and confined to finds associated with the theatre. This having been said the significance of the Roman architecture in the town has been recognised, and the site was listed by UNESCO in 1981.

Roman theatre at Orange, view of the cavea looking north west

Roman theatre at Orange, view of the passage access to the upper media cavea

The theatre was built during the reign of Augustus [31 B.C. - 14 A.D.] and similar to many Roman theatres in Gaul the theatre in Orange utilises the steep rocky hillside of Saint-Eutrope to support the middle of the cavea. The theatre ranks as a medium size theatre in Roman Gaul measuring 103 meters in diameter. One can only begin to imagine and marvel at the massive scale of the structure that was built at Autun (Augustodunum) which measured approximately 148 meters in diameter. The theatre was restored and embellished during the Hadrianic period [117 A.D. - 138 A.D.]. Either side of the theatre an arcaded perimeter wall contains stairwells providing access to barrel vaulted tunnels and the summa and media cavea. Similar to many Roman theatres, to the west of the theatre at Orange a large temple complex was constrcted into a hemicycle, again dictated by the hillside of Saint-Eutrope.

The theatre is most notable for the fact that the scaenae frons is still standing. the guide states that it is the only one in Europe still standing and draws comparison to the other scaenae frons structures still visible today at Aspendos in Turkey. Viewed from the street this wall is on a monumental scale standing 37 meters tall. The street side of the wall still has the series of corbels used to support masts from which a vela or cover was suspended over the theatre. Today all that remains on the surface treatment of the wall are some imitation arches in low relief. The wall facing the cavea would have been richly decorated with architectural ornament including columns, statuary and possibly mosaic on a number of levels.

Roman theatre at Orange, view of the cavea and scaenae frons from the hill of Saint-Eutrope

The scaenae frons was vitally important to the function and acoustics of the theatre. Vitruvius, who would have been alive for a portion of the reign of Augustus, set out in his ten book treatise, De Architectura, the importance and attributes of the scaena frons and its role in acoustics. The fifth Book deals with the Theatre and its construction and he makes the following comments:
"The roof of the colonnade to be built at the top of the rows of seats, should lie level with the top of the scaena, for the reason that the voice will then rise with equal power until it reaches the highest rows of seats and the roof. If the roof is not so high, in proportion as it is lower, it will check the voice at the point which the sound first reaches."
More recently studies have sought to examine and understand the acoustic effects of the Roman theatre and come to the conclusion that they worked very effectively; for reasons that would embarrass modern concert hall designers who would appear to depend on sound systems to control acoustics.

Roman theatre at Orange, view from Rue de la Republique of the scaenae frons wall

The structure was most likely abandoned as a theatre by the end of the 4th Century and was occupied for other purposes until the 19th Century. The precincts of the theatre were known to have been used as a prison, a fort, and occupied by the town's townspeople until the restoration commenced. By 1869 a series of annual shows were initiated; held during the Summer they were called "Fetes Romaines".

Contemporary drawings depict the theatre in a variety of conditions but an engraving from Gazette des Beaux-Arts published in 1861 depicts the cavea without seating and the arcing contours of the hillside which opens in places revealing the substructure of the cavea and the vaulted passages. The restoration of the theatre was begun in 1825 under the instructions of Prosper Merimee, Directer of Historic Monuments. The initial challenge, like similar ancient structures in the south of France, was to demolish the dwellings incorporated into and adjacent to the theatre. These works continued for many years and were overseen directly by Simon-Claude Constant-Defeux from 1856 to 1858. Later excavations were undertaken by the architect and archaeologist, Jules Formige, who also worked on the theatre at Arles and amphitheatres at Frejus and Lutece, in Paris. In the early 20th Century and is credited with discovering numerous articles now associated with the scaenae frons structure.

Theatre at Orange from Gazette des Beaux-Arts, Volume 11, 1861

Upon arrival at the site, I climbed up to the top of Saint-Eutrope to get a better vantage point when the sun was going to be at its highest point during the day. The sun's low flight across the early February sky meant that the hill of Saint-Eutrope placed most of the cavea in a cool shade. In contrast the immense scaena frons was exposed to bright sunshine and the white marble statue, said to be that of Augustus, was radiant in its niche. Afterwards we explored the theatre itself which it is estimated could seat up to 7,300 spectators. Wandering around the structure today you can experience the scale and atmosphere of one of the best preserved a Roman theatres. Viewing the theatre from Saint-Eutrope is a vertigo inducing experience but is in my opinion the only way to get a good look at the entirety of the theatre and put in a context of the surrounding countryside.

The triumphal arch at Orange, view from the south

About half a kilometer to the north of the theatre can be found the Roman triumphal arch. The construction date of the triumphal arch at Orange is not easy to pin down because of the inscription evidence. If one is to interpret the inscription evidence associated with the arch it is easy to form the view that the construction was a prolonged process probably beginning under the reign of Augustus [31 B.C. - 14 A.D.] to honour the veterans of the Gallic Wars settled in the area, and later either embellished or remodeled under the reign of Tiberius [14 A.D. - 37A.D.] to commemorate the victories of Germanicus [16 B.C.? - 19 A.D.] in the Rhineland and of course Tiberius himself. This arch is important for a number of reasons; the arch is a provincial precursor to the more famous monumental triumphal arches of Septimius Severus [193 A.D. - 211 A.D.] and Constantine [306 A.D. - 337 A.D.] in Rome, having the principal arch in the centre and a minor arch to either side, and a sequence of four Corinthinan columns ranging across the facade. The decoration and inscriptions are well recorded, thanks to the restoration work, but despite the two thousand years which have passed since its construction much of the architectural ornament and sculptural reliefs, which are cut in limestone, are in reasonably good condition.

Impression of the Arch at Orange prior to restoration in 1825 from Gazette des Beaux-Arts,

Volume 11, 1861

The triumphal arch at Orange, view from the north

The arch itself measures 19.57 meters long, 8.4 meters wide and 19.21 meters tall. The sculptural decoration that would have been placed on the attic story no longer exists but would have raised the overall height considerably. The arch was restored during the 1820s by the architect Augustin Caristie and another person called Renaux, who are also associated with the works being carried out the theatre at this time. The arch had been incorporated into the medeval walls of Orange and the first task was to liberate and isolate the structure.

The triumphal arch at Orange, detail of relief above the right hand arch on the south side

Caristie is accredited with a very judicious and sympathetic restoration. The careful manner in which he undertook this task has made it possible for us to enjoy this important Roman piece of urban imperial and historical architecture.

Many of the reliefs on the north and south sides depict typical trophy displays of shields, above them are motifs related to marine warfare such as tridents and anchors. The naval references in the arch may be a direct reference to the victory of Augustus at Actium in 31 B.C. The majority of these reliefs are in low relief, however the trophy scenes on the short sides were sculpted in high relief. These six panels, two destroyed on the west side, depicted the battledress, helmets, standards and trumpets and captives.

The triumphal arch at Orange, view from the north and reconstructed west side

The battle relief on the attic story of the north side remains in good condition. Originally there may have been other bronze objects applied to the relief to add detail and embellishment but these have disappeared. The scene depicts a chaotic combat scene with the naked Gaulish tribesmen being killed and overpowered by the Roman Legionaries. The Roman Second Legion has been identified on a panel by the use of the Capricorn motif on the shield of an officer. The settlers and their descendants must have had certain amount of pride in the arch and what it commemorated; the victory over the Gaulish tribes was not to be forgotten and the arch guaranteed this.

The triumphal arch at Orange, detail of a battle relief from the attic story

Returning to Lyon, I set my heart on exploring Vienne for a day and Corinne's thoughts leaned in the direction of shopping and staying in Lyon. I was amazed by the theatre and triumphal arch at Orange, but I admit I was overwhelmed by the the Roman building program at Vienne, and hope to relate my experience of some of them in the next entry.

A short trip to Lyon - Gallia Lugdunensis 1

2010-02-14T14:13:00.006Z

A view across the Rhone towards Notre Dame de Fourviere

It was 20 years since I had been to Lyon and back then I did not stop for too long before moving on to my ultimate destination to the southeast of Lyon. For this trip, at the end of January, I decided to read up on Lyon to identify a few sights I would like to visit and add to my basic knowledge of the city, and its culture. I decided to refer to Elizabeth David's book on Provincial French Cooking, but I was surprised at her comments. She was of the opinion that one must be a Lyonnais to properly appreciate the local cooking and then proceeded to moan in an unappreciative manner about the anti climax that she experienced from the fountainhead of French cuisine. I suppose I should not be surprised to read this from somebody who ignored the Jura and Franche Comte in the same publication, but it still a good book despite these shortcomings. To assist me on my journey, I decided to travel with three books The cuisine of the Rose by Mireille Johnston, The White Cities by Joseph Roth, and Roman Gaul and Germany by Anthony King.

Lyon is not a monumental and decadent city in the mould of Paris. This ancient city has grown up and expanded at the confluence of two of France's most important waterways; the Rhone and the Saone. The Roman colony of Lugdunum was founded in 43 B.C by Lucius Munatius Plancus, a leading officer serving under Julius Caesar during his campaigns and battles to subdue the Gallic tribes. The site chosen by this officer, who is also reputed to have founded Augusta Raurica in 44 B.C. not far from Basel, was previously a Gallic hill fort occupied by the Segusiani, and today this vantage point towers over Lyon and is known as the Fourviere hill. Its significant position on the Rhone and Saone lended this site to being used as an administrative centre with easy and speedy access north and south on the navigable river systems which passed through the city. Over the next three hundred years this settlement would be favoured by a number of Emperors and Lugdunum flourished as a result. Features of this development still visible today are the numerous aqueducts, theatre, odeon and the amphitheatre.

A view looking south across the Roman theatre, Fourviere, Lyon

The steep featured flanks of the Fourviere descend to the Rhone and a number of bridges and passerelles make communication with Presqu'ile quite easy. As the name suggests, Presqu'ile is not quite an island but a strip of land that has been cut and narrows to a point where it finally reaches the confluence of the Rhone and Saone.

Roman Gaul is proving to be a tourist attraction for the modern town of Lyon and the Roman theatre on the Fourviere hill is the most visible representation of this period of the city's history. When the Roman builders arrived on site in or about 15 B.C. to build the first theatre structure in Gaul, they must have welcomed the prospect of building a theatre structure on this site because the steep hillsides in the vicinity could be easily employed in the construction of a theatre. While the slopes would minimise the need for a freestanding outer wall and a complicated series of vaults, arches and supports there are visible remains of radial substructures supporting the cavea. The theatre measures 108 meters in diameter which makes it a little larger than those built at Arles (Arelate) and Orange (Arausio). The remains of three cavea are visible, the media cavea and summa cavea are only to be identified by the series of vaults and hemispherical wall structures that would have supported them, and the remains of the ruined vomitoria quite immense. The date of the initial construction of this theatre places it firmly within the reign of the Emperor Augustus and there is evidence to suggest it was restored and extended during the reign of Hadrian, and it is suggested the scaena frons was added during this period.

A view looking west towards the cavea of the Roman theatre, Fourviere, Lyon

Although it faces east and overlooks most of the city of Lyon today, the scaena frons structure situated in front of the seating would originally have been approximately 30 meters high, and thus the great panoramic view to be seen today over Lyon would have been not a particular feature of this theatre. The structure would have been ornately decorated and some elegantly carved column bases are to be found on site today. The hillside has a number of other interesting structures, and just to the south can be found the Roman odeon which is thought to have been constructed during the 2nd Century A.D. This is 73 meters in diameter and also backs onto the hillside for support and its cavea are surrounded by an immense boundary or outer wall, which is quite distinctive and sets it apart from its neighbour the theatre. The orchestra measures 21 meters in diameter and is decorated in opus sectile with porphyry and other exotic stones and marbles from the distant far flung corners of the Roman Empire.

A column base from the Roman theatre site

To the north of the theatre and also nestled into the hillside is the musee de la civilisation gallo-romaine the exhibition spaces of which are sunk into the hillside. It houses an important collection of sarcophagi, inscriptions, decorative mosaics and other materials found in excavations from the area. The mosaic of the circus race is quite well preserved and evidence of the fact that one of the four circus tracks to be found in the Gallic provinces was located not too far from the Fourviere hill, and in close proximity to the Gier Aqueduct. The aqueduct may have been the source of the water used in the fountains along the spina depicted in the mosaic.

Detail of the Circus Mosaic, Musee de la Civilisation Gallo-Romaine, Lyon

The remains of the amphitheatre are to be found to the north west of Place des Terreaux. Leaving this grand square, travelling north, and proceeding towards the district of La Croix Rousse, it was not long before I was walking up a steep hill into which the amphitheatre was built in circa 19 A.D. This is another example of the Roman engineers and builders exploitation of the terrain to construct and support their structures.

The remains of the amphitheatre, La Croix Rousse, Lyon

The amphitheatre was excavated and investigated in circa 1818, and the quartier was developed thereafter. The remains, which are now incorporated into a garden, are presently covered by roads, modern buildings and indeed cut in half by a tunnel built to alleviate the flow of traffic leading up to La Croix Rousse. The size of the amphitheatre is debatable but is clear that it was improved and extended through the centuries and must have been an impressive sight. Some commentators are of the opinion the structure was smaller than those at Arles and Nimes. However my impression is that, in its most developed state the amphitheatre in Lugdunum would have been as significant as the amphitheatres built at Arles and Nimes. The principal difference in Lugdunum, is that the amphitheatre was both reliant upon and contained by terrain it was built into.

An important inscription was found in 1957 yielded evidence for not only the build date but the people who financed its construction; the inscription pays testament and records the fact that a Gallo-Roman family from Saintes (Santons), most likely seeking to underline its loyalty to Rome and the Emperor, constructed the amphitheatre at their own expense. It must be noted that there is also a magnificent amphitheatre to be found not far form the centre of Saintes.

An aerial view of the amphitheatre using Google Earth

Having left Corinne at the ugly Gare SNCF Perrache, (she was going home for the day), I struck out for La Croix Rousse on foot. After viewing the amphitheatre, I descended through the town peering in through the windows of various boulangeries as I went. This city has a number of sweets and delicacies which were invented here, and can only be found elsewhere in specialist shops. The lush red pralines, crystalline crusty coated almonds, appear in most windows in one guise or another; dotted in various types of sweetened bread or tart pralinee or sables pralinees. The choclatier Voisin has a number of stores around the city, and they are responsible for the famous coussin de Lyon; a sugared elegant green marzipan filled with rich chocolate grenache in the shape of a cushion.

I crossed the city towards Fourviere and climbed the steep hill, absolutely breathless and weak by the time I found the theatre in bright winter sunshine. The day was bitterly cold and nobody was there. After spending half an hour wandering around looking for the remains of the aqueducts, and various mausoleums, I was quite conscious of the fact that the bells had stopped chiming in the nearby churches, and lunch would be now available. Wandering back through the streets of St Just towards Vieux Lyon, I eventually arrived at the point where I had commenced my ascent of the Fourviere hill at the top of Rue du Boeuf.

The path of least resistance led me down the narrow cobbled street to a restaurant on Rue du Boeuf called Les Adrets. Being both hungry and thirsty, I entered a long narrow dining room paved with tiles with strained and heavily deflected ,wooden beams overhead. It was full but a space at a table was found and I ordered terrine de gibier to be followed by tete de veau along with a refreshing pot of cote du rhone. Despite being obviously foreign, my choises engendered me to those sitting beside me, and they inquired about my little adventure and what I places I had visited and offered advice on what I should see next.

In the restaurants of Lyon you frequently end up wondering if there is anything that you would like to eat on the menu. You need to be adventurous. The menus can be viewed with some intrepidation if you are anxious about ordering various types of tripe, offal or combinations of both. My tete de veau probably shortened my life by two weeks, but it was unctuous and bitter and satisfying; the mellow sweet flavour of the gelatinous fat was cut by a parsley vinaigrette dressing. This dish would be relished and devoured, without a second thought, by a boatman who had been working his vessel up the Rhone, from perhaps Valence, for the previous 20 hours, against a strong current and a bitterly cold mistral wind. Arriving at the quays in Lyon, with his hands paralysed by the cold wind, this dish would have revived such a man. My meal was finished with a fantastically rich quenelle of chocolate mousse and a coffee, and the knowledge that I would be sentenced to at least three months hard labour for eating everything that put in front of me on this trip.

Opus reticulatum and opus mixtum still visible on a support of the Gier Aqueduct, Lyon

As Lugdunum thrived in the 1st Century A.D. the requirement to augment the water supply became a necessity and it was decided that four aqueducts would be built to attend to this need. The longest of the aquaeducts is 86 kilometres in lenght using the river Gier as its source. Evidence from inscriptions and archaeology has not been of great assistance in the dating of this aqueduct. Some archaeology suggests it could have been constructed during the reign of Augustus but it is more likely that it was operational under the reign of Claudius. Inscriptions found at Chagnon and St Joseph date to the reign of Hadrian and introduce a ban on ploughing and sewing in the vicinity of the aqueduct.

I have already refered tothe lenghty pondering I experienced reading a number of Lyonnais restaurant menus, and my chosen reading prior to the trip had not fully prepared me for this very distinctive cuisine. The books probably were too heavily influenced by Dijon and the Bourgogne and neglected the indigenous fare of the Lyonnais. Over the five days of thisparticular visit I have discovered the Bouchon, which is a type of Lyonnais restaurant serving earthy, homely food, but typically Lyonnais using just about every edible part of a pig, cow, chicken or available fish; lentils, onions and macaroni are a feature of the Lyonnais cuisine.

The first Bouchon we dined in was La Meuniere. It was one the most enjoyable meals I have ever had. Most of the prepared food was laid out on a bench in the middle of the very dated and somehow complimentary dining room. It appeared not to have been decorated since the 50s or 60s and was somewhat spartan in appearance, however posters celebrating Beaujolais wine served as a strong suggestion as to what you should be ordering with your meal. The staff engaged with you in a very familiar way, and some diners received a reproach for failing to clear their plates. While I had a terrine to start, I decided to have poulet fermier a la vinaigre for my main course. I did not expect this dish to be as agreeable as it was. It was very good. Thereafter, I received slap on the hand when I thought the canut, a soft cream cheese with herbs and garlic, was my cheese course of preference. Instead I was directed to two large wooden boards full of locally produced cheeses.

The next Bouchon, was the similarly celebrated Le Garet. The menu of the day was noteworthy because it sums up for me what Lyonnais cuisine is all about; Salade de dent lion aux oreilles de cochon (a salad of dandilions with pigs ears); Omlette a la truffe Francaise; Ris de veau a la creme et champignons. I began my meal with an offering of five bowls from the kitchen containing, Lentil salad, mousseau (pickled face of cow thinly sliced), pied de veau, saucisson de veau et cochon, and tripe; collectively known as salad de cochonailles. A pot of Crozes Hermitage worked very well with this selection and the following plate of le tablier du sapeur, which was a section of marinated and fried tripe. The dessert was a homemade blackcurrant ice cream, barely sweetened, which was served with a bottle of vieux marc to use as you pleased, and I did!

Some of the creations of the Patissier and choclatier Richard Seve

Food forms a very important part of Lyonnais living and they are proud of their traditional servings and just as proud of their influences on the new modern cuisine developing in France today. It is not based upon fusion or any passing weakness for a modish taste but merely a celebration and presentation of French food and its industry at its very best. The master boulangers, patissiers and affineurs that base themselves in Les Halles Paul Bocuse are representative of this ideal. They are some the best boulangers and patissiers in France and strive to produce the best quality food to a very high standard. You rarely witness crowds of people surrounding a butcher stall focusing on a butcher dressing a rack of lamb but this occurs most days at les Halles Paul Bocuse.

Street markets are also a feature of Lyon life, as they are of most French villages, towns and cities. Local producers sell their fresh vegetables and fruit and anything else they think the pubic will purchase. I spotted one vendor selling walnuts, walnut spreads, and huile de noix; the oil produced from the pressing of the walnuts. They also sold the tourteaux de noix, which is the dried remains of the pressed walnuts. It can be used much in much the same way as chestnut flour to flavour flour in making biscuits or in general baking.

My personal preference leans towards the everyday and traditional food of the bouchon which preserves the old dishes in an unglamorous and less ostentatious way. This food is generally consumed with the three princes of Lyon; Beaujolais, Cotes du Rhone, or Crozes Hermitage and after a few days my fear and intrepidation has turned, with a little understanding, into a sense of surprise at every menu. This understanding will no doubt encourage me to return and continue my exploration of the Gallo Roman ruins.

French Christmas Adventure 2

2010-02-07T11:32:00.017Z

This post is a little late going up but it is still worth looking back over good times. One of the great tasks we have when going back to France is "casser les noix" or breaking the nuts! These walnuts have been dried and stored since they were carefully harvested in mid september. They taste stunning and there is no comparison to those you might buy bagged in the shops; they are full of flavour and rich in their natural oil. Afterwards the brittle shells are used to light the fire in the morning and we often relax with a cup of coffee in hand watching the shells glowing red.

The marche in Besancon was a hive of activity throughout Christmas. All the butchers were busy displaying inticate pretty joints of meat, and many different types of specially raised foul from Bresse and elsewhere could be purchased. The rest of the stalls had magnificent displays of fresh fruit and vegtables. Winter reveals the wealth of smoked meats available in the this region which are particularly renknowned. I have been told that in Roman times the smoked ham was a prized export and I have no reason to doubt this. During Winter the region of the Haut Doubs could become isolated and its inhabitants cut off due to long periods of snowfall. In order to surviive it was necessary to prepare food and preserve as much as possible of it. The people were required to be self sufficient to survive on their communal stocks and stores in their large characteristic farmhouses, which would also be employed in the sheltering of the cattle and their feed as well. The typical farmhouse would have a large chimney indicating a smoking room and attached to a wall of most houses would be a hemisperical wood fired oven.

Le Reveillon was a magnificent marathon of a feast commencing with the extra special marinated foie gras of Jeannine Marie Reine Delacroix, followed by the prawns and monkfish a la bourgogne. After an interlude, when Pere Noel made an appearance to deliver gifts, the meal recommenced with Jeannine's slow roasted leg of lamb. In the south of France it is customary to have thirteen deserts, a task which I was thankfully spared. Instead, a selection of homemade berry sorbets and the buche du noel were served following the selection of locally produced cheeses.

Christmas day arrived and the snow had by now melted and the river Doubs had begun to rise, flooding the low lying fields that borded the river. Another marathon meal was planned, and I contributed a tart au citron and a tart aux pommes to the menu. The new taste for small courses served in verrines or small glasses, was much in evidence as a succession of courses were served during the afternoon prior to the principal dishes of snails which were followed by magret de canard served with a pumpkin gratinee and traditional sweet chestnuts.

After Christmas we planned a day trip north towards the Vosges Mountians and Alsace. The Irish have a long history in this part of France dating back many centuries; St Columban arrived in the vacintiy of the Vosges mountains now within the departments of Haute Soane and Alsace in about 587. He founded a monastary on the site of the then ravaged gallo-roman settlement of Luxonium, the modern town Luxeuil -les- Bains. Excavations had been taking place on the site of the funerary church of Saint Martin for a number of years, but from October and throughout December there were many media announcemnts on television and in the papers relating the recent developments and finds associated with these excavations. The excavations were concluding during January and among some of the most important finds disclosed in the reports were 125 sarcophagi dating to the Merovingian age, and the crypt of Saint Valbert.

Our day trip began early on the 26th December, and we took a train witha destination a little further north of Luxeuil into the Vosges to the city of Colmar in Alsace and the department of Haut Rhin. It was a bright still morning and through the lingering freezing fog we could see the countryside was covered with a mantle of thick coarse frost. The first part of the trip took a course along the banks of the Doubs which in places was still flooded and frozen, and in others where the valley narrowed and the river turned tighly around a succession of bends we saw the waters rise in great acts of rejection to counterflows and currents as the river swelled and flooded unpredictably. Leaving Mulhouse we entered a different landscape; a plain with the Vosges mountains bording the horizon.

Colmar

The foundation of Colmar is recorded to be in the 9th Century, but settlements such as this one often have an earlier origin. The site became one of the most important in the area by the 12th Century. Today this quaint city is too easily passed and missed on the way to Strasbourg. At school I learned of the constant change of this region's borders; this struggle appears at this remove as a constant series of ceding and annexation of borders. While the ecclesiastical history has made a visible impact on the medeval city the proximity of Germany and its historical influence is also quite visible. On the edge of the medeval city there is a small quarter which has network of canals passing through it, and indeed small streams shaped the contours of some of the streets as they pass through the city. While St Petersburg and Amsterdam may be compared to Venice, Colmar also shares this elegant quality and atmosphere.

Church of St Martin built between 1234 and 1365

It was a day of firsts for me as I had decided to add to my Christmas girth by having a choucroutt with it meats for lunch with a local reisling wine. We commenced our meal with a tarte flambee, which was for me a lesser known Alsation staple dish. This is a very thin and crisp dough topped with creme fraiche, onions and lardons and cooked in a very hot wood fired oven. We followed it with my first choucroutt garni. There is no pomp and ceremony afforded to this dish of fermented cabbage and pork, but it worthy of some celbration. It was a considerable feast with various types of pork sausage, poitrine, lard and quenelles de foie perched on and around the mound of pale sweet cabbage. I failed to clear my plate, which is a statement in itself, but was sufficiently fortified to walk around the pretty streets of Colmar for the afternoon.

This unusual photograph I have included because I have come to associate a number of regions with their distinctive and indigenous local stone; locally quarried stone used in the edifaces and walls of many structures throughout a town gives a city a certain individual character. In Besancon there is the striking and austere grey and blue limestone, but a little further north I was greeted by the soft and warm combination of yelllow and red sandstones. This example comes from the side wall of the Unterlinden Dominican Convent which dates to the 13th Century. It is now known as the Unterlinden Museum housing primarily a religious collection and the Isenheim alterpiece, but there is also an archaeological collection with objects from the La Tene, Gallo-Roman, and Merovingian periods.

At Christmas time in Alsace many cities have special markets in the town's center and Colmar's Christmas market is quite exceptional. The curved and twisted short streets, and narrow or small squares of this medeval city were filled with huts selling everyting from artisanal bakers to vendors of vin chaud. The streets were filled with people wandering about gazing into these huts and musing over their wares. We purchased another Alsation favourite to nibble on the way home on the train: Kugelhopf is akin to an upside-down brioche, being cooked in a barley twist mould containing dried fruit and dotted with sugar. The flavours and sights of Alsace and Colmar had escaped my attention previously, but it is worthy of severable visits and is again evidence of the great regional diversity of tradition, food and wine in France.