Cheoff

A site about food, drink and other random stuff!

I've Already Done "We're Jammin'", Haven't I...

Hey, some things are worth repeating. In truth, this post will reflect the season and the fresh vibrant fruits that are now in abundance. Spicy and meaty was for March… July is juicy.

We haven’t set up our small garden to grow enough crops to fill anything like the number of jars which are needed to satisfy our wants and the extras which will be given as home-made gifts through the year. Luckily, PYO signs are all over our part of Lincolnshire - and most likely wherever you are if you’re reading this in the same British summer. Last week we made our first picking trip and returned with a few kilos of strawberries and raspberries.

A journey to the loft produced enough matching jars and lids to accommodate the estimated yield. They were washed and sterilised and the fruit prepared for jam and jelly.

This is the time when I turn to a trusted friend for encouragement and advice. Diana Henry has written enough to sustain all our weekly cooking in an adventurous and delicious way through many years. I’ll admit other influences but she provides the foundation for many of my exploits in the kitchen. I naturally turned to the jam section in her ‘salt sugar smoke’ for post-strawberry-picking guidance.

I made two of the three recipes on her double-page strawberry spread.

Ah, right… you thought you were in for a spot of copyright flouting and a splendid freebie. If you think I’m going to remove those strawberries, think again. All I will add is that Diana Henry’s wisdom is readily available to you just as soon as you purchase your very own copy of her book. For balance, let it be known that I have yet to buy two of her books. Am I that terrible difference between a devotee and a fanatic?

I have admitted other influences. My raspberries were used in a simple, tried and trusted (and readily available) recipe from Allotment Garden.

Of course, I always have a bit of creative angst over the appearance of my labels. I refuse to resort to computerised printing and each jar ends up with a unique hand-written effort.

There will soon be further forays to fill baskets with blackberries, gooseberries and blackcurrants. The satisfaction of preserving some of an abundant but fleeting harvest is irresistible. The sugar needed to stabilise fruits can create something closer to the contents of sweetshop shelves and I use less and less of it in many recipes. The delight is that, even with a fifty/fifty mix, six months later the fruit is still clever enough to remind you of its acid but fragrant attack which greeted you in the field while you picked it. Don't waste your opportunity. Gather your harvest over the next few weeks and turn it into comfort for the year to come.

cropped strawb jam.jpg

No apologies for the lack of recipes here. There are so many lovely ideas to explore in your bookshops or on the internet that I don't intend confusing the issue by pushing you in any particular direction (well, seeking out Diana Henry won't do any harm).  Keep your equipment spotless and enjoy the fruits of your labour.

Smoked Salmon Pasta and an Accidental Herb

The introduction to one of my favourite books on medieval art begins with this: "There is luck in artistic creation, no less than in scientific discovery." I will not linger on the argument which might ensue if we examine those words. Instead, let me show you the luck which prompted a lovely recent meal.

Trespassers will be...

The appearance of fronds of dill in unexpected places has been a feature of our garden for at least a couple of years now. Some of it is pulled out and consigned to the compost bin (whence it most likely spreads into the garden again). Returning from our French holiday, a fine specimen growing in the carrot bed could not be ignored. Eventually I will take some to add distinctive flavour to New York deli style pickles but its first use was in a quick, full of flavour, summery dinner (oh, yes, that's 'tea' to all my Facebook friends from Yorkshire).

This deserves some reasonably decent slices of smoked salmon. Trimmings or bog standard supermarket offerings can be left for something else. For two people you'll need 120 grams of something which has had a touch of oak, whisky, beech or beetroot (you agonise on that one). Roughly cut or tear it and set aside for a few minutes.  Beat together two egg yolks, 100 ml of double cream and a good grind of black pepper. Dill goes in to this mix - a good handful pulled from the thicker stalks. I thought it needed a few herby mates and chopped a bit of basil and oregano as well.

I don't frown on cheese with fish (haddock rarebit is a favourite) but here I decided against a grating of Parmesan or the like. 

You are near to completion if you have chosen fresh pasta. Dry or fresh, you need about 90 grams per person. Penne was my choice. I have more important things in my life which will stop me knocking on your door in dismay if you choose a different variety. Cook in plenty of boiling salted water. One last gift from our garden was added a minute before the pasta was ready. The snap peas had produced their first pods and just had to be given a walk-on part at the very least.

The peas and pasta are drained BUT you must reserve a ladle of the hot liquor. Tip the pasta and peas back into the pan and add the cream, egg and herb mix as well as that patiently waiting fish. Pour in enough water from the ladle and stir to make a sauce which coats everything. 

Unless you fancy a little crusty bread for extra texture and bulk, you're there. Dill is a fairly insistent flavour but goes well in this combination. This dish sings of grassy green goodness from the herbs which lighten the indulgent fish and creamy sauce.

No real luck needed here and it will be ready in a much shorter time than any true artistic creation requires. You will, however, be rewarded with abundant flavour and, if you mop up with some bread, a very clean bowl.

Keep busy. And concentrate on some cooking if you will, please... let's not waste time choosing between 'whence' and 'from whence'.

June 2015 - France: Monday 15th

Let me assure you that we were up at a reasonable time. Time enough to make it to Sarlat la Caneda and the selection of wines available there at Leclerc. This is when we stock up with bottles for everyday drinking and a few slightly more luxurious offerings which might tempt us with a comparatively cheap price in their land of production. I like Rhone wines and we are far enough south here to see a decent selection on shelves. No good expecting them next week in the Loire, where the local vintages will dominate, so they must be bought now.

Coming back out to the car park I noticed something which must be concerning the populace and especially the tourist trade here. We have a fairly comprehensive holiday insurance but this sort of warning about potential attacks from the local archery club must be taken seriously!

We pushed on into the centre of Sarlat; a medieval and renaissance mash-up with lots of impressive architecture. The town is not too heaving at this time of year but is still very much prepared for visitors. If any foie gras or nut liqueurs are bought it will be done in quieter, cheaper places.

On to Beynac and its feudal castle. I'm refraining from using the French word for the sake of pet lovers everywhere... we know how much most chats hate eau. It's a winding road up to the top and makes great exercise for the keen walker... we brazenly tanked up in our vehicle to the closest car park! Lunch saw a reprise of that delicious quiche. Here's Mrs. Cheoff looking all sunshine and lightness. Things did deteriorate; I'd broken the baguette habit and bought a flute instead. I managed to get this pic before Mrs. C turned sullen when she failed to find the finger holes! :/

Le chateau (there, I said it) is perched very dramatically on a bend in the River Dordogne. With a bit of encouraging hand-holding we explored higher and higher up towers and on ramparts to get stunning views of the world below us.

We meandered like the Dordogne and stopped in Domme for an ice cream. We couldn't quite remember or identify the site of a lovely meal we had there with our two sons and my Mum - but that was twenty years ago! I do remember Jayson#1 ordering a slice of lightly pan-fried foie gras and finding it just too rich... I gratefully took over from him!

A fairly obligatory swim back at the ranch lulled us into the idea that we could replace a few of the calories lost with our evening meal. The barbecue was fired up. Lamb, its kidneys and a freshly made potato salad were among the stuff we washed down with a few glasses of Picpoul de Pinet left in the fridge by our generous hosts. 

How great to be able to eat outside and enjoy warmth from not just the wine but also from the kind French evening climate. I never like to gloat for long - so let's finish this here and I'll try really hard to detach from smug mode before my next post... bonne nuit à tous.

June 2015 - France: Sunday 14th

Today was a lazy day with the chance to recover from a couple of long journeys and to consider eating less rich food. We managed the first but discarded the latter idea!

The champagne we bought on the way down had included a Grande Réserve which we opened with Jayne and Barry. I don't know enough about the fizz houses of Épernay and the surrounding area to be able to pick out a bottle with apple, yeast or citrus notes. It's all pot luck in that respect. However, we were advised a few years back to look on the label for the makers registered number. Look for the two letters 'NM' before the numerals and you will have a product on a par with any of the grand marques which perhaps trade on their name for a hike in price. As long as the indication of Négociant Manipulant is there, you can be assured of quality even if you have never heard of the maker.

As to the particular traits of the wine, you will have to go through the hard process of opening and tasting a bottle before returning to the supermarket! The first one we shared had a lovely balance with definite suggestions of apple, which we like. That will mean a trip back to the shops for more before we leave here.

That Grande Réserve worked out at £13.50 and will be brought out back at home for Christmas and special occasions. We've tasted another selection which had pleasant yeasty notes and, since that will cost around £7.25 depending on exchange rates, is definitely on the list for filling in at other times. You know... when your least favourite uncle arrives unexpectedly!

You will now realise why we travel by car and leave plenty of free storage space for our trips here.

We interrupted the Sunday laze with a swim and for supper ate some of the glorious quiche which Jayne insists on leaving for all guests.

Deep, satisfying and full of tasty goodness... just like Jayne!

Finding out that Amazon Prime is inaccessible to us over here, we abandoned attempts to achieve a balance of moods with 'Twelve Years A Slave'. Instead we Youtubed an episode of 'Morse'. Five minutes in I nipped over to a writing pad and scrawled a quick note. I'd completely forgotten the whodunit part but one of the sub-plots was logged in my memory bank. While making a nightcap an hour and a half later, I revealed my words to Mrs. Cheoff... "The drugs are hidden in the wheelchair" 

That's enough of a spoiler for now. The Mamas & Papas will be here in the next post with 'Lundi, Lundi'. I'll get some shut-eye before I get up at whatever time I like because I'm not at work tomorrow! :p

June 2015 - France: Saturday 13th

Bonjour! Our first night in France was as comfortable and peaceful as expected.

The reassuring clang of cathedral bells greeted us as we woke on our first morning in France. There is an interesting history of the 'Maison Ailleurs' house on the website. I spent a few minutes capturing shots of the magnificent stairway before breakfast. 


I shouldn't really call it breakfast. Petit déjeuner is a more poetic phrase but still doesn't describe the array of wonderful delicacies which were presented to us. The thought which Valérie had put into preparation and presentation created one of the most enjoyable starts to any day that I've experienced... a very special moment.


My command of French wasn't good enough to adequately thank our host for her talents and care. I'll spend some time with Google Translate and some online dictionaries and try to assemble something approaching adequate in a private email.
We said our sad 'au revoirs' (we will definitely be back) and made our way further south.
Late afternoon found us in Leclerc in Souillac. We headed for the champagne aisle and bought a couple of bottles of cheery bubbly.
Fifteen kilometres further down the road and we were back in Payrac with Jayne and Barry, thirteen months after staying with them for the first time.
In a lovely gesture of friendship (and as a small indication that I hadn't offended them as much as I'd feared last year) we were invited for dinner that night.
We had time to take our first dip in the pool where Barry was trying to adjust his seasonings... something about salt levels being too high!
Even without the accompanying four wines (hell, it might have been five!) we would have had a great evening. Peppers, tomatoes and anchovies for starters; spicy chicken with fragrant, fruity rice to follow; chestnut roulade or tiramisu to wind up food proceedings - and, of course, a fine old catch up on news and views. We judged the moment when verbal expression and comprehension were becoming things of the past due to exceeding the prescribed amount of alcohol and repaired to our beds for sound sleep.
Barry and Jayne are not too concerned about bookings so I'm not putting any of their contact details here. If they tell me otherwise, I'll revise this post and link to their website.
In the meantime, I'll leave you with a small section of the glorious garden which greets us each time we step outside.


June 2015 - France: Friday 12th

 All in order and ready for take-off. A mid morning ferry crossing meant that we could have a fairly relaxed breakfast before bidding farewell to our most loved and respected wrinkly hosts. The M25 was a curve of kindness, with heavier traffic going West on the other side. One small highlight before reaching Dover; the carefully printed words taped to the rear end of a heavy truck - LEFT HANDED DRIVER. The Victorians would never have allowed that to happen!

The ferry is my first chance to revisit conversational French. I usually cement the entente cordiale with a condemnation of the quality of coffee being served but this time I simply teased a steward who was handing out the company's magazine. She went to great pains to assure me that its title was 'Traversée' and not the mischievous 'Travesti' which I suggested. My search for a publication on cross-dressing continues!

Calais needs exploring properly to reveal its charms. However, we simply made for the A16 and headed towards Rouen and then Chartres. I always marvel at the familiarity of road signs, landmarks and the names of motorway services. We have travelled in France each year for more than twenty years. Whatever our route, something seems to ring a bell.

Our last taste of home was eaten at lunchtime. Mrs. Cheoff had made splendid filled buns. I'm sure they would have been almost as good without my homemade chutneys! Along the autoroute we made deposits in one well-appointed Villeroy and Boch toilet and in one daunting 'Tunnel of doom' squatter before negotiating the one-way streets of medieval Chartres first time and arriving at 'Maison Ailleurs'.

Valérie presented a delightful afternoon tea table. More of her talents were to come.

Mrs. Cheoff is the sine qua non of holiday researchers and planners. She has a sixth sense for quality which discards swathes of possible B&Bs and gites on seeing a single untoward website photo. This does mean that we end up in some rather smashing accommodation so I just go with the flow and tag along. It's possible that my wife is ne plus ultra in this respect but that would be giving my English rose a little too much Latin temperament, methinks! ;)

We ate out. I won't dwell on our meal. Perhaps a review of our disappointment might appear in time. The evening ended well with a stroll around the darkening streets, stopping to view lighting effects on buildings and landmarks, including the cathedral.

We were guaranteed a restful night in our lovely room. See you in the morning!



June 2015 - France: Thursday 11th

Not much of great excitement with this, my first log of our annual French experience. Bear with me - I'll try to inject incredibly interesting content as these reports continue to come in.

On this first day Mrs. Cheoff and I made our way down to softie Southern English haunts to my family home. There, after a spot of gardening in support of a willing but understandably age-challenged step-father we were treated to the efforts of my equally challenged Mum who, at eighty-seven, is just two months younger than her present partner in life. She had planned and reserved enough energy to prepare a chicken, chorizo and red pepper delight which really deserves a recipe here! 

In other words, we get royally treated by two lovely people who totally give the lie to any suggestion that age might wither or dim them. Terrific value for money... no charge! (There is, of course, an unwritten rule that a bottle of Armagnac is unpacked from our 'souvenirs' on returning)

With magnificent foresight I had arranged for a brand new, shiny coffee bean order to be delivered. As you must know, the coffee available across the Channel is largely of a dodgy nature. Best to be prepared. My espresso machine and grinder were already packed - so please don't fear for the quality of my brews while abroad.

This picture shows my choices arrayed in French sunshine. 

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I'll leave you secure in the knowledge that we are safely arrived just over an hour from Dover. Our journey, and this blog, will continue next time.

A bientot

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