Pickled Pumpkin Preserve

It’s Halloween and Pumpkin time. Seeing the photographs of carved pumpkins on a friend’s blog reminded me of my grandfather’s Pickled Pumpkin Preserve. I used to wonder how a pumpkin could be transformed into this delicious accompaniment to cooked meals, but was too young to think of asking for the recipe (he died when I was 12). I have searched for the recipe for years, and now, at last – here’s something akin to the recipe Morfar (Grandad) used to make, if my memory serves me right.

My sister tells me that it was at our other grandparents’ we had pickled pumpkin preserve, and she may well be right. I know Morfar grew pumpkins, and seem to remember eating the preserve with steamed cod at their flat in Oslo, while it was served with cooked ‘gravy’ meals and sometimes used in place of cranberry sauce at our other grandparents’ house. The jury remains out – but the memory of the flavour remains – and I suddenly want some! With oven baked salmon, please.




Pickled Pumpkin Preserve

1 kg (2.2 lb) Pumpkin flesh, cut into pieces 2.5cm cubes (1”cubes)
400ml (15 fl oz) spirit (clear) vinegar
750 g (ca ¾ lb) sugar
50g (2 oz) whole ginger

Cut pumpkin in half and remove all seeds and scrape back to the flesh. Cut into smaller segments, peel carefully and cut into cubes. Peel ginger and chop into a few pieces. This can be removed when the preserve is done.
Bring vinegar, sugar and ginger to the boil and add pumpkin cubes. Simmer till the pumpkin pieces are tender and shiny. Ladle pumpkin into sterilised jars, simmer the vinegar and sugar for another 10-15 minutes, until the mixture thickens. Pour over pumpkin, cool and seal.

How long can I keep it before eating it, I wonder? I reckon Christmas time might be good.

Tip: Pickled Pumpkin Preserve should be kept in a cool, dark place.

Did you know that… the original name for pumpkin was the Greek word ‘pepon’, which means large melon? It then mutated to ‘pompon (French) and ‘pumpion’ (English), before the American colonists changed ‘pumpion’ to ‘pumpkin’. Perhaps it was just the matter of illegible handwriting!

When Shakespeare referred to ‘pumpion’ in ‘Merry Wives of Windsor’, he was referring to ‘pumpkin’ – but you all knew that, didn’t you?

But did you know that... Native Americans dried strips of pumpkin and then wove the strips into mats?

And then of course, when the tradition of Jack-o-Lanterns were brought over to America, the colonists found the native pumpkin to be ideal for making their own version.
The tradition began in Ireland, I believe.

Marit’s Gluten Free Version of Paola’s 5-4-3-2-1 Apple Cake

It’s more to converting a recipe to gluten free than merely replacing ordinary wheat flour with the gluten free kind, so being a little inventive is par for the cause.
In making up this recipe I did have to add a little extra milk, as gluten free flour absorbs liquid quicker than wheat flour. Paola suggested that we could replace some or all of the sugar with honey, or add some pureed apple to the cake mixture. I’ll try that out next time I make the cake.
Paola is right in pointing out that it is a fool proof recipe. I didn’t make any mistakes, and it was so good that I had to make it two days running, to make sure everyone got a taste.

Gluten Free 5-4-3-2-1 Apple Cake

5 tbsp gluten free self raising flour (if you’ve only got plain flour, add an extra 1 tsp of baking powder and 2 med eggs, rather than 1 lge)
4 tbsp Demerara sugar
3 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp semi skimmed milk
1 lge egg
1 tsp baking powder
1 pinch cinnamon
The original called for a pinch of salt, but I avoid using salt in cakes, so omitted it.

For the Topping:

1 apple, peeled, cored and chopped finely (or you could use thin slices)
A little sugar and cinnamon to sprinkle on top of the cake – but be sparing.


Put everything in a bowl and beat well, then pour into an 8”-20cm sandwich tin (greased and dusted with a little gluten free flour). Bake at 180C (fan oven) for ca 25 minutes.


Tip: Use a loose bottomed sandwich tin as this cake is very light and needs to be turned out gently.

Did you know that… The English word ‘cake’ can be traced back to the 13th century and that it derives from the Old Norse word 'kaka' (modern Norwegian = kake).

Gluten Free Banana Loaf with Lemon Icing

Banana Loaf with Lemon Icing

1 cup corn flour
1 cup plain white gluten free flour
1 cup (approx. 5 good tblsps) softened margarine
1 ¼ cup Demerara sugar
2 medium, ripe bananas
3 lge eggs
4 tsp baking powder
1 tsp vanilla sugar

For the Icing:

4 tblsps icing sugar
Lemon juice to mix (about 1 tblsp)

Cream margarine and sugar together and stir in mashed bananas. I use a good sized mixing bowl, so just mash them against the one side before mixing it all well. Add a little of the flour and stir in the eggs, before adding the rest of the flour together with the baking powder and the vanilla sugar.
Pour into a large, greased 2 lb loaf tin (I like to grease and flour even non-stick tins) and bake at 180C for 1-1 ¼ hour, or until the cake is just firm, and a knife or skewer comes out clean.

Cool for a little while before turning out and mix and add the icing while the cake is still warm.

Tip: For a crunchier icing, use ordinary granulated sugar – or caster sugar - instead of icing sugar and apply to cake while still hot.
This cake is quite fragile, but since making it I have sourced gluten free self raising flour, which have xanthum gum added. This gives the mix back some of the elasticity lost with the removal of gluten. If using self raising flour, just add 1 tsp baking powder instead of the stated 4.

Did you know that… Sir John Mandeville (14th C.) referred to bananas as Apples of Paradise and Long Apples in his manuscript Travels?

A Light Lunch/Cucumber Salad

A Light Lunch/Cucumber Salad

My light lunch did not consist of just cucumber salad. That would be taking the eating snack size meals a bit too far! I did however decide that a light lunch was the order of the day, after last Sunday’s disastrous attempt at eating a nigh-on normal meal. The pain was not going to feast on my stomach again.

I sought out a cucumber salad recipe, as I was having a piece of baked salmon (with a little olive oil), and the two make a very good combination. Besides, four small cucumbers were left on my wall outside the front door the other day, and needed using. My neighbour has kept us in cucumbers for what seems like months. The only time we grew them, they were big and beautiful, but totally inedible. They were bitter, and we don’t know whether it was because of over-feeding – or for not cross-pollinating. No bees in the old greenhouse to do the job – and we were just ignorant first-timers. We haven’t grown them since.

The recipe is a variation on my mother’s recipe, but how much of a variation I don’t know. I have tried to remember what my mother did, but my last attempt at making it went very wrong. I sprinkled the thinly sliced cucumber liberally with salt – a little too liberally as it turned out. I left it in the brine overnight, then rinsed it off the next day, and added cider vinegar as a dressing. It was saltier than the old briny itself.

So here’s my variation:

Cucumber Salad a la Norway

1 large cucumber (or equivalent)

For the dressing:

5 tbsp vinegar (cider vinegar is best, but I used ordinary malt vinegar)
5 tbsp water
1 tsp sugar
A pinch (!) of salt and a little white, ground pepper

Mix the dressing and set aside.

Wash cucumber and cut off any blemishes, but do not peel if the skin is okay. Slice thinly. I use a Norwegian cheese-slicer. It’s ideal for slicing cucumber thinly, peeling carrots – and cutting the cheese in nice thin slices. It’s available here in the UK now, but mine was bought in Norway many years ago, and still going strong, despite being in daily use.

Pour the dressing over the cucumber slices, then set aside in the fridge until cold. Nice with fish, but also with a mixed salad, or as part of a buffet.

Did you know that … the green cucumbers we eat are actually not ripe? The ripe, yellow cucumber is generally too bitter and sour.


Health Benefits:


Despite the cucumber containing mostly water (96 %), it also contains a lot of beneficial vitamins and minerals. Its alkaline-forming minerals represent 64.05%, against 35.95 % acid forming minerals and this ratio apparently means that the cucumber is very good for us. Never mind the doc who said cucumbers are nothing but wind and water!

Eating cucumber regularly is supposedly good for maintaining the alkalinity of the blood, as well as being a natural diuretic.

Surprisingly (to me, anyway), the juice of the cucumber is excellent in treating gastric and duodenal ulcers, as well as hyperacidity.

Combined with carrot, beets and celery juice, cucumber is also beneficial to those of us suffering from arthritis and rheumatic disorders, such as Gout, as it reduces the level of uric acid in the body.

Besides several other benefits (it can be used in the treatment of cholera and urinary disorders), it is also very good for treating ‘skin eruptions’. To speed up its healing effect,it’s best mixed with carrot and lettuce juice.
Regular use of grated cucumber as a face mask will prevent pimples and blackheads, and we all know of its cooling effect on tired eyes.

But did you know that… regular use of cucumber mush on the face can also prevent wrinkles and dry skin? And that cucumber juice promotes hair growth (hopefully not on the face after repeated face masks!), because of its high silicon and sulphur content? This is particularly helpful, apparently, if mixed with lettuce, spinach and carrot juice.

Tip: The vitamins and minerals sit close under the skin, so the cucumber should be eaten with skin intact, if possible.

Gluten Free Challah-style Bread

Looking for different bread recipes to convert to gluten free and try out, I came across Challah bread. Looking through the ingredients it wasn’t much different from the recipe on the back of the gluten free bread flour bag, but that comes out a bit like cake – and I want something more akin to actual bread.
Challah bread is Jewish, and when not made in a bread maker, like mine was, generally plaited. It is traditionally eaten on the Sabbath and other Jewish holidays, with the exception of Passover. Challah is also called ‘egg bread’ as some of the recipes use a large amount of eggs.
Apparently there are as many Challah recipes as there are Jewish cooks - and varying ethnic traditions call for variations in the recipes.
I’d quite like to try the one where the top is brushed with beaten egg and then sprinkled with poppy seeds or sesame seeds. I have been told that this is supposed to represent the manna sent from Heaven to the Israelites as they wandered in the desert.

Tip: This bread is quite sweet. Reduce the amount of sugar for a more savoury loaf, or increase slightly for a sweeter loaf – and add dried fruit if desired.

Did you know that … on the Sabbath, the bread becomes a symbol of holiness?



Gluten Free Challah-style Bread

175 ml (6 fl oz) semi skimmed milk
2 large eggs
450g (14 oz) gluten free bread flour
3 tbsp caster – or granulated – sugar
½ tsp salt
1 ½ tsp or 1 packet dried yeast
6 tbsp olive oil

This makes a small loaf. Use the 450g setting on your bread maker.
Mix milk, eggs and oil in a bowl, then transfer to bread maker. Add flour, salt and sugar, then sprinkle yeast on top. Start machine. After a few minutes, open the lid and with a spatula, loosen the ingredients from the sides of the tin. Close lid and leave until the end of the program.
As gluten free bread dough tend to be a little sticky, using a bread maker is easier than using your hands, making the bread the traditional way. Personally I wouldn’t be able to do all the kneading required anyway – and the bread tastes as good out of the machine.

A Bouquet for Nan

A Bouquet for Nan

‘What are you doing, nan?’
‘Making a cake, sweetheart. What have you been doing?’
‘Picking flowers,’ Molly held out a bouquet of dandelions and buttercups, ‘for you.’
Old Mrs Jones stopped beating the butter and sugar. ‘Well, thank you, Molly!’ She kissed her nose. ‘You’re a good girl.’ She sniffed the bouquet… Ah!
Now where was she? Butter, sugar… ah, eggs. She broke the eggs into a cup, one by one. She had once broken an egg open to find a chick in it. She hadn’t eaten eggs for a long time after that.
‘Could you pass the flour, please, Molly?’
‘Can I put the flowers in?’
‘Yes, of course you can. Flour, not flowers, sweetie. I’ll just mix the eggs in first, then you can stir in the rest.’
Old Mrs Jones turned the oven on - three clicks - and set the timer, click, click, click.
‘What do I do now, nan?’
‘Get the cake tin out for me and I’ll grease it, then you can pour in the mixture.’
‘Okay. Nan?’
‘Yes?’
‘The mixture doesn’t look like it does when mummy makes cakes.’
‘Doesn’t it? Never mind, dear.’ She put the cake in the oven on the middle shelf and turned towards Molly. She was glad of her help since her eyesight failed. ‘Could you get me a vase and fill it with water for me, sweetheart?’
‘What for, nan?’
‘For my flowers, silly.’
‘But nan, I put the flowers in the cake, like you said!’

An acrid smell rose from the oven as the dandelions started to burn.



♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Gluten Free Broccoli Flan

The ‘Flan’ seems to have originated in ancient Rome, when the Romans first started keeping domesticated chickens so that they could use their eggs. They again consulted the knowledge of the Greek – known for their culinary skills – when faced with a glut of eggs. The Romans then set to and developed a new dish – initially just savoury – now known as Flan. A sweet honey version soon followed.
The word Flan comes from the Latin word Flado (flat cake), and in Old French this became ‘Flaon’, before becoming Flan.

But… is it a quiche or is it a flan?


Quiche

Some say that Quiche originally came from the north-eastern region of France called Alsace, but it seems that it was actually first made in Lothringen – which was under German rule at the time. The word ‘quiche’ comes from the German word ‘kuchen’, meaning cake – and Lorraine – as in Quiche Lorraine, from Lothringen. This seems to suggest that Quiche Lorraine was the original quiche.

Quiche consists of a buttery pastry shell filled with a savoury egg and cream custard. The most classic quiche filling is Lorraine: a bacon and gruyere mixture, although cheese was a later addition. Initially it would have been an egg and cream custard with smoked bacon or pieces of pork added. With added onions it would be transformed to Quiche Alsacienne.

After World War II, quiche became popular further a-field and arrived in the UK, and then the US.

Did you know that… the bottom crust was originally made from bread dough? And that ‘real men don’t eat quiche?’ Well that’s what they said when it first arrived here, apparently, because of its mainly vegetarian ingredients. Hm, so it wasn’t quiche Lorraine they were talking about, then?

It seems that quiche and flan are inter-changeable when speaking of the savoury kinds, so I’ll continue to use both – as we all do – although evidence seems to point to Flan being the origin of both.


Broccoli Flan

1 cup gluten free plain flour
¼ cup margarine, cubed
2 ½-3 tbsp cold water
2 large eggs, beaten

For the Filling:

12 medium sized broccoli florets - or equivalent
1 ½ cup (200ml) single cream
1 cup grated cheese


Steam broccoli until it begins to soften.

Rub together flour and margarine until it resembles bread crumbs, then gradually add cold water and mix well. Get you hands in to knead/pull the dough together. I had a little help from my two year old grandson, Aleksander, who loves cooking with his nan. The next step was to rest it in the fridge for half an hour.

We then got a child’s rolling pin out and rolled the pastry on the floured bread board till it was big enough to cover the base and sides of a 20 cm/8” sandwich tin - previously oiled by his chubby little hands. I pushed the dough up the sides a little more, to make a good sized well for the ‘custard’ mixture. Aleksander then pricked the base with a fork.

Bake at 180C for 10 minutes, then remove from oven, brush with a little beaten egg and bake for another 5 mins.

While the base is baking, mix cream, eggs and cheese, as well as any seasoning. I used a little salt and some freshly ground black pepper.

Lay broccoli in base and pour the mixture evenly over it – spreading the cheese if required.

Bake for 35-40 minutes (a little less if you have a fan oven), or till firm and set and slightly browned.

Nice with a salad!

Tip: I used mild cheddar, but Mature Cheddar, Red Leicester or Gruyere will give you a stronger flavour. Stilton and broccoli is good, too – and spinach instead of broccoli is another variation.

Old Fashioned Homemade Lemonade

Homemade Lemonade

10 lemons
120 g caster sugar
1.5 litre water
1 lime, sliced

Wash lemons well, dry, then peel using a potato peeler. Avoid pith. Place the rind in a large bowl, add sugar and water (boiling). Stir until the sugar has completely dissolved, cover and set aside for half an hour or so.
Squeeze as much juice as you can out of the lemons. I tried out a little gadget which I found in my cupboard, new in the box, but looking as though it belonged back in the 60s.I’ve no idea where it came from, but it came to light when I was clearing everything out of the kitchen to have a new one fitted.


It’s an electric citrus juicer called Linette - see photo -
and it worked brilliantly. Another of those short-lived gadgets, no doubt – but I found it made the job of squeezing ten lemons easier on my hands – once I got the hang of it. At first it was like a novice trying out a potter’s wheel, endeavouring to centre the clay in order to throw a pot. The lemon shot off a couple of times, but as I was about to give up, I suddenly mastered it. Easy peasy – lemon squeezy.
Strain the juice and set aside, then strain the liquid with the rind and sugar in. Mix strained juice and strained liquid and mix well before covering and putting into the fridge for a couple of hours or more.
Serve with ice when the weather is hot (being October, I did not!). The lime slices can be added to the serving jug, or to individual glasses.
If you’re lucky enough to have any left, it will keep in the fridge for about a week.

Tip: This is a sharp drink - and mixes well with carbonated water.




~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As we all know lemon is rich in vitamin C, and because of this it’s beneficial to the immune system. It also contains antioxidants which is important in the body’s fight against free radicals.
Did you know that … despite it’s acidic flavour, it can actually help reduce acid in the stomach? Many seemingly acidic foods have an alkaline effect. It can also act as an anti-inflammatory, a natural diuretic and an antiseptic.
And there’s more: lemon juice aids digestion, dilates blood vessels in the skin, relieves cramp. Just don’t think one cup of tea with lemon is going to be a miracle cure. You’ll need a bit more than that!
As a herbal remedy it’s used in the treatment of arthritis, asthma, gout, hoarseness, inflammation of the mouth and throat, liver and intestinal problems, nervous disorders, sleeplessness … the list goes on. A good excuse for drinking homemade lemonade!
Lemons originated in Northern India and when it arrived in Europe, it was first grown as an ornamental tree in the Mediterranean gardens.
Lemonade itself s said to be first made around 1500 years ago in Egypt, originally as a honey and lemon wine – fit only for peasants.
Did you know that… one single lemon tree can bear as many as 3000 lemons in a year?
… and did you know that it was a ten year old boy, Edward Bok, who first started selling lemonade to passers-by in 1873? His family had fallen on hard times, and he was determined to find a way out of poverty and did all sorts of jobs to this end. He first started to sell iced water to passengers in horse drawn carts, but when other boys cottoned on to his idea, he started to squeeze a couple of lemons into his water, and sold it as lemonade. Where they made two or three dollars from selling iced water on a Sunday, he made five dollars from selling lemonade.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Necessity is the Mother of Invention

I was going to make a gluten free Lemon and Honey Cheesecake, but realised that besides not having a lemon jelly, which I needed for this recipe, I didn’t have any cream. My shopping was already on its way, so it was too late to add it to the list. So – what to do? Well, as you know, necessity is the mother of all inventions. I made a Lime and Lemon Cheesecake instead - using milk instead of cream - by tweaking my Lemon and Honey Cheesecake recipe a little.

Hubby and I had a taste tonight and this was his verdict: ‘Well, you know – it was… (awaiting the usual ‘all right’) ...really nice!’ It was a lighter version, too - although not light on calories, I don’t suppose.


Lemon and Lime Cheesecake

1 lemon and lime jelly (I used crystals)
½ pint water
Just under ½ pint milk (I used semi-skimmed)
200 g low fat cream cheese (or quark)
1 cup icing sugar
1 tbsp honey
2 tsp vanilla sugar

For the base:

250 g (1 pack) of gluten free shortcake biscuits
100g melted margarine


Crush biscuits and add to melted margarine, mix well. If you’re tempted to snack on one of the biscuits, make sure you reduce amount of margarine. You don’t want the base swimming in fat (I speak from experience!). Line an 8” loose-bottomed sandwich tin and spread biscuit mix over base. Put it in the fridge to chill and set.

Make the lemon and lime jelly up to ½ pint, then top up with cold milk to 1 pint as though making milk jelly. You may find that it curdles a bit, but this will disappear when everything is mixed together in the final stage. Set aside to cool.

Cream together cream cheese, honey, icing sugar and vanilla sugar, then add the cooled jelly. I then whisked it for about 30 seconds. Put it aside to allow it to start to set.

I placed it in the freezer for about half an hour, so that it wouldn’t be runny going into the tin.

Spread the cream cheese mixture over the biscuit base and put in the fridge to chill and set properly for 3-4 hours.

Serve cold and enjoy.

Tip: As this cheesecake may seem softer than the more usual version, I would leave it in the tin and serve it straight from the tin.


…and this is the recipe that I was going to use…



Lemon and Honey Cheese Cake

Serves 6

250 g gluten free digestive biscuits or similar
125 g butter or margarine
135 g pc lemon jelly
2 tblsp clear honey
300g (10 fl oz) single cream
200 g fromage frais or quark

8” flan tin with loose base, ca 3 cm deep

Crush biscuits, melt butter, mix two together. Grease tin, spread crumbs mix over bottom and press down firmly to make base.
Put base in fridge to chill.

Make jelly in jug, separating into cubes, then add honey, before pouring over ½ pint boiling water. Stir well till jelly dissolves, then leave to cool. Meanwhile, put cream into lge bowl, use wooden spoon to mix in fromage frais/quark, beat till smooth. When jelly mix is cool, pour into the bowl of cream mixture, beat hard with whisk. Pour mixture into flan tin. Put in fridge for about 4 hours to set.

Remove carefully from tin, but leave on base. Keep chilled until ready to serve, and decorate just before serving. I didn’t. I decorated it with lemon and orange sugared jelly slices and it looked great. By the time the birthday party started, the majority of them had slipped off.

Tip: line tin with baking paper!

It takes a long time before this sets. Don’t despair. If you have followed the instructions, it will.



Did you know that… the first cheese cake was served to the athletes at the very first Olympic Games in Greece, in 776 BC? Cream cheese wasn’t around back then, but they used crushed cheese, wheat and an egg to make their original version.
Some time later – or about 1250 year later (in around 1000AD) – the Roman armies brought it to Western Europe. Although we think of it as an American invention, it was brought there by immigrants, and initially relied on cottage cheese as the cheesy ingredient.

Cream cheese was created by accident, when American dairy workers tried recreating a French cheese (in 1872), but it wasn’t until 1912 that pasteurised cream cheese came on the market – and it was this cream cheese that Arnold Reuben, owner of the well known Turf Restaurant in New York, used to make the ‘original’ modern cheese cake.

Mixed Tomato Chutney

Tomatoes, tomatoes everywhere – and not a ray of sunshine in sight.

Well, the above is a bit of a fib. We haven’t got that many tomatoes this year threatening to go to waste. We did some years ago, a real glut of them, and I made green tomato chutney which lasted us years – with the last jar (or content of) possibly better tasting than the first.

The last of the tomatoes are on the turn. Some are turning ripe, which is good – but without the promised Indian summer, it’s doubtful that they’ll make it. Others are rotting before they ripen, so I was on a bit of a rescue mission this morning, kitted out in my husband’s waterproof as the rain and the wind had just set in. I didn’t stay out there long. Ominous squeaking from tall, old trees across on the other side of the river bank (the river runs below our garden wall), made me pick fast and make a hasty retreat. Not that any of the trees are so tall that they could have reached me up at the top end of the garden, but it sure would have made me jump. As I’m treating myself very gently at the moment, due to the Gastritis flaring up badly (in turn due to being given a new medication for the RA, which had the opposite to the desired effect), I’ll stay indoors while the wind doth blow.

Traditionally you're not to pick/harvest anything in the wet, but I can’t see a problem if you’re going to cook it straight away. The result of the harvest was a little tweaking of my recipe for Tomato Chutney, as I had a mixture of ripe, un-ripe and half ripe tomatoes. The resulting chutney has a lovely aroma – so I hope the same can be said of its flavour. Homemade chutney is all the nicer for being allowed to mature, but I’ll leave some un-bottled, to taste... (which I did, on my last slice of rye bread. Yum!)

Mixed Tomato Chutney

1kg mixed ripe, green and half ripe tomatoes (2/3 of mine were ripe)
3 medium cooking apples - or tart eating apples
2 onions (I used 1 red and 1 white onion)
350 g brown sugar (I used Demerara, as I had it in, but Muscovado is even better)
200 g raisins and sultanas mixed (or just one kind)
2 level tsp salt
1 tsp ground ginger
350 ml mixed cider vinegar and white vinegar.

Chop tomatoes, peel, core and chop apples, chop onions. Add all to a large thick-bottomed saucepan, together with all the rest of the ingredients. I would have used all raisins, but on raiding the grandchildren’s boxes of raisins, found they hadn’t left me enough (bad nanny! But I will replace them in the next shop), so mixed some sultanas in. Mix well then boil for 1 hour 10 minutes, till fruit is tender and chutney has thickened.

Ladle into sterilised jars, through a wide-necked funnel, and cap at once.

Did you know… that chutneys and pickles are alkaline foods, rather than acidic? A little of either will help balance over-acidic stomachs. Should be good for the Gastritis.

Ginger is anti-inflammatory, and eating onions may help prevent gastric ulcers by mopping up free radicals, as well as by preventing growth of Helicobacter Pylori, an ulcer-forming micro organism. Onions have also shown to be beneficial in the fight against several diseases and disorders. These include cataracts, cardiovascular disease, various cancers and disorders of the stomach and the bladder.

Tomatoes, although part of the Nightshade(Solanaceae)family – foods which should be avoided by RA sufferers (including peppers, potatoes and aubergine) – are beneficial cooked, as they then contain Lycopene, an important substance found to be protective against a growing list of cancers.
I also find that I can eat a small amount of home-grown tomatoes, sun-ripened and without any kind of pesticides or herbicides used.

…and did you know that... the tomato is the fruit of the plant called Lycopersicon Lycopersicum, and that the first part of the name means ‘wolf peach’ in Latin? It was at one time thought to be dangerous like the wolf, hence the name – and the leaves are indeed slightly toxic.

The French call the tomato ‘love apple’ (pomme d’amour), the Italians call it ‘golden apple’ (pomodoro), which probably stems from the fact that the earliest imported tomatoes were yellow.

The tomatoes originated in South America – and an Aztec recipe is in existence, which includes tomatoes. Something like a Salsa, unbelievable as it may seem.

Grandma Smith’s Blackcurrant Cordial

Grandma to me, was Mormor (mother’s mother), as my mum was to my daughters. I chose to translate it to grandma, rather than granny – as Granny Smith is as we all know, a delicious apple – and I’m talking blackcurrants. And if I’m not making any sense, blame the new medication. I am!

The Smith name is from a Scottish forefather, way back in the distant past – the only non-Viking blood in my family until my generation – when me and my brother mixed it up real good with our respective spouses. But I digress.

I didn’t know what a convenience meal was when I was growing up in the 50s and 60s in Norway. My mother considered being a housewife her career, and she was very good at it. I think my sister takes after her, but alas, not me. I’m afraid I would rather write a short story than wield a duster, ponder over a haiku than wash the floor – but I’m getting just a little bit more domesticated of late – at least as far as cooking is concerned. Needs must!

We never had shop bought squash/juice. My mother made cordials, and I recently found some of the recipes she sent me. This is the cordial I remember best. My grandmother’s original recipe.

Grandma Smith’s Blackcurrant Cordial

2 litres blackcurrants
1 litre water
375 g sugar per litre strained blackcurrant juice.

Simmer blackcurrants and water for half an hour, squashing the berries to release the juices. I use a potato masher and give it the occasional mash as it boils.
Strain through a sieve or muslin - I used a fine nylon sieve – and leave to run off for a couple of hours before measuring the resulting liquid. Don’t try to push the juice through. You want a nice, clear juice. Add sugar, then boil for ten minutes before ladling into sterilised bottles, using a funnel. Cap at once. Let bottles cool before storing in a cool place. My mother’s cellar was ideal – and bloomin’ scary. I got a larder cupboard doing the same job, if not quite as cold.

Tip: do not listen to know-it-all men (sorry – but there were three of them telling me!) who reckon the bottles will blow if bottled hot. This is a cordial, not wine. It’s more likely to ferment if not capped while hot.



Did you know… that what we call currants, were named so by mistake? They were actually just a small raisin, imported into the US from Corinth, and the Greek writing for Corinth was mistakenly translated into Currant at the port. This was supposedly in the 1920s, and as the real currant, the blackcurrant, had been banned from being grown for many years, the name stuck.

Tip: I remember the days when my mother was making blackcurrant cordial very well. It was a tedious job topping and tailing all those berries. But – good news - if you’re making cordial today, you don’t need to. Just pick them, give them a rinse and they’re ready. If freezing, make sure they’re dry first. If you don’t like the debris floating on top as it comes to the boil, just skim off the loose stuff with a spoon. Hours worth of work saved. Time for a bit more writing.

Blackcurrants are very beneficial to our health. I’ve promised myself a glass a day as long as it lasts, for its anti-inflammatory properties alone. Besides that, they are very rich in vitamin C, as well as containing potassium, phosphorus, iron and vitamin B5.

It has also been demonstrated that the fruit has properties which might just help inhibit the root cause of heart disease, cancer and some infections, as well as neurological disorders like for instance Alzheimer’s. A good enough reason to enjoy some cordial with my water.

Fact: During the WW2 blackcurrants became the main source of vitamin C for British children, and from 1942 onwards almost all of the blackcurrant crops were made into blackcurrant syrup or cordial. This was what we know as Ribena, then produced by the Carter company, and was distributed free of charge to the country’s children.

'Eggs on Rye' anyone?

Rye was introduced to Great Britain some 1500 years ago, by the Danes and the Saxons and soon became a staple in the diet. Rye is well suited to the colder northern climate, and is still an important part of the diet in several countries, although – much as it ought to be – not in the UK.

Rye bread itself originated in Germany, and a well known variety is Pumpernickel, but I am using a Norwegian recipe which I have adapted to suit my needs.
Rye gluten is not as elastic as wheat gluten, and holds less gas during the proving/rising process. This means that bread made with rye flour is denser than bread made with wheat. For a lighter variety, some wheat flour is usually added, but I used a gluten free white bread flour.
Rye flour retains a large amount of nutrients, which cannot be said of refined wheat flour.

Norwegian Rye Bread with a Difference

2 1/2 tsp dried yeast
1 2/3 cup gluten free bread flour
1 3/4 cup rye flour
5 dessert spoons mixed grain or gluten free muesli with various seeds and nuts
2 2/3 tsp caraway seeds
1/3 tsp salt
2 1/2 tbsp margarine/butter
3 dessert spoons treacle
1 cup warm water (115 degrees)
1 egg.

All ingredients except water must be at room temperature. Add
ingredients into the bread machine as listed. I melted margarine, then added treacle and poured this in, followed by the egg mixed in the water, then all the dry ingredients – which I had first mixed together in the mixing bowl.
My bread machine is a Morphy Richards, and I selected setting 5, which is for a large wholemeal loaf, but suits this recipe best. It takes 4 hours 30 mins, but the first 30 minutes is standing time, allowing the flour to take up the liquid ingredients. Two minutes after the actual process has started – so after 32 minutes, open the lid and using a spatula loosen the mix from the sides, then close lid and leave till baked.
Cool slightly, then turn out to cool.


Did you know… that a common saying in modern day Alaska is ‘eggs on rye’? It is supposedly an expression they use when something tastes extra nice.

…and did you know... that eating foods high in insoluble fibre – as rye is – can aid in the prevention of gallstones forming (in women)? (According to American Journal of gastroenterology.) It also aids weight-loss, as it’s water-binding and so make you feel full very quickly. I can attest to the latter. I can only eat one slice at a time.
It is also helpful in maintaining good overall health, preventing heart disease, some cancers etc. In short, it’s very good for you. Lately it has also been discovered that the gluten in Rye, since it is so different to that in wheat, should not be lumped in with the foods to avoid if you have gluten intolerance. Even coeliac sufferers should be able to eat it, but should first ask their doctor, as some might not.

Wheat is the main gluten culprit and there’s more and more evidence, apparently, to show that other grains do not affect people in the same way.

I wonder whether the wheat problem has arisen because of the kind of wheat that is grown. In Scandinavia a soft grain is grown, producing a harder bread – and in Great Britain, and elsewhere, a hard grain is grown, producing soft bread. It sounds back to front, but I remember reading about this when I first encountered problems with eating bread.


Tip: Substitute some rye flour for wheat flour in your favourite baking, whether it be bread or muffins, cup cakes or pancakes.

Elderberry Cordial

Walking along the leafy country lanes with little grandsons in tow is a pleasure in itself – and the gathering of a little of nature’s bounty along the way, a bonus.
Yesterday we went in search of elderberries, armed with jugs and bowls, not knowing how much we would find. We spotted more than we could pick, as lots were hanging far too high for any of us to reach, but that just means that the birds get their share, too.
We filled a carrier bag of bunches of berries, which made one and a half litre when cleaned off the stalks. That's enough for me to make some elderberry cordial with, although I’m giving you the recipe for two litres, which is the way my grandmother gave it to my mother, and she to me.

Elderflower cordial is an excellent remedy for winter colds and flu, but should then be served hot, like a toddy, and quite concentrated.

Elderberry Cordial

2 litres elderberries
1 litre water
300g sugar pr litre of liquid when strained

Remove berries from stalks using a fork to pull them off. Boil berries with water for half an hour, crushing the berries with a wooden spoon when softened. Strain well. A jelly cloth on a stand - which is what my mother used - would be ideal. I have to rely on a fine sieve, a big pan, and plenty of patience.
I let the mixture cool before straining. I have been splashed with hot juice one time too many!

Once strained, measure the liquid and add 300 grams sugar per litre of liquid and boil up for about 10 minutes, then bottle up in sterilised bottles. Use a funnel – and take care! The cordial will be hot and will also stain whatever it hits.

Tip: The elderflowers make an excellent elderflower champagne. I’ll let you in on my recipe when the time is right and the elder is in bloom.

My son-in-law told me of another way to use the elderberry to treat and ward off an approaching cold. Simply dry bunches of elderberries, suspended inside a brown paper bag, and then, when needed, take a couple of bunches and steep in boiling water. Strain, add honey and drink while hot.

Elderberries are also used as a herbal remedy, as an anti-inflammatory, as well as a diuretic. It’s also believed to boost the immune system. It’s best known as an aid to treat and relieve bronchitis, asthma, colds and flu. As a bonus it helps lower cholesterol. What it lacks in flavour it makes up for in positive benefits!
Can be used in pies and jams, but I don't fancy trying that myself.

Did you know… that the berry shouldn’t be eaten raw because they are mildly poisonous? Eating them in their raw state can induce nausea and vomiting – as one of my daughters found out years ago. Thank goodness she stopped her little one eating them yesterday! Instead he gripped tightly his two pint jug, containing half a dozen blackberries (we found blackberry bushes still in flower, and it's September!).

Cooked, the elderberries are perfectly edible, and good for you, but remember that all the green parts of the tree are poisonous. This may sound strange in the light of the fact that parts of the elder tree has been used for flutes and whistles since ancient times, as well as for pop guns or blow pipes for children.
But – it was not all fun and games. The elder (which had many names over the years) is also known as The Judas Tree, as Judas supposedly hanged himself in an elder (eller):

'Judas he japed with Jewen silver
And sithen an eller hanged hymselve.'

(Langland’s ‘Vision of Piers Plowman – pre Chaucer)


In yet another old tradition The Cross of Calvary was said to be fashioned of elder. No wonder it became associated with sorrow and death:

'Bour tree - Bour tree: crooked rong
Never straight and never strong;
Ever bush and never tree
Since our Lord was nailed on thee.'



…and did you know… that gypsies are not allowed to use elder as firewood? It’s thought to bring bad luck.
In most countries, Denmark in particular, I understand, the elder was closely connected with magic. A dryad, Hylde-Moer (Elder-Mother) supposedly lived in the tree, looking after it. Should anyone be as foolish as to cut it down and make furniture out of the wood, Hylde-Moer would haunt the owners. We'll stick to picking the flowers and the berries then!

My Mother's Sauerkraut/Surkål

What? There's some left?


My parents used to visit us almost every summer, and my mother always brought a supply of sauerkraut, to make sure we had enough to go with our Christmas lunch and for other special occasion dinners. This was the shop bought kind, vacuumed packed, but still delicious. But what to do when they couldn’t come one summer?

At the time we had a general store and thought we'd hit the jackpot when we found jars of sauerkraut on sale at the Cash and Carry. It lived up to its name. It was sour, but alas, otherwise almost tasteless. It was probably proper sauerkraut though, made the traditional way, using just cabbage and salt, and the fermentation method. I wanted my Norwegian Surkål!

I'd kept my mother updated on my search for the elusive accompaniment to the perfect cooked dinner, when she came across an old recipe which she had slightly adapted. I still have the Christmas card she sent, with the recipe attached.

Mother's Sauerkraut

1kg white cabbage (or red)
1-2 apples (on the sharp side)
6 pinches salt
3 tsps sugar
3 tsps caraway seeds
200 ml (7 fl oz) water
1 ½ tbsp white vinegar (the pickling kind)

Use a thick-bottomed, large saucepan.

Remove stalk and finely shred cabbage. Peel, core, then chop apples. Put a third of the cabbage into pan, then add a third of apples, salt, sugar and caraway seeds, repeating twice more. Mix vinegar with water and pour over. Bring to the boil, then turn down heat and simmer for 1 1/2 hours. Keep the lid on and just shake pan gently now and then. Don't stir until the end of the cooking time.
Add more sugar if needed, but sparingly.

Tip: Grate an apple into the sauerkraut before serving, to make it extra nice.


Did you know... that sauerkraut is an aphrodisiac? Apparently it has been scientifically proven!

Marit's Yummy Chocolate Cake

Hot out of the oven, my gluten free chocolate cakes looked so tempting to my little grandson that he tried to climb up my leg to get at them, pointing, smacking his lips, and pleading ‘nana-a’! My heart melted along with the chocolate icing I was mixing, and he was allowed a little taste of that – and the promise of a slice put by for the next time he comes. And one for his dad, and for his mum…

This chocolate cake belies the fact that it is gluten free. It’s well risen, moist and yummy, and I’m glad I decided to make two cakes, as there’s only one or two slices left of the one I iced this afternoon (pictured). It was a hit with everyone.

Marit's Yummy Chocolate Cake (makes two: one square and one round)

3 cups mixed half and half corn flour and plain white gluten free flour
4 tsp baking powder
2 level tsp vanilla sugar
1 ½ cups sugar
6 good tbsp softened margarine
2 dessert spoons gluten free drinking chocolate powder
4 lge eggs


For the Icing:

4 tbsp icing sugar
2 dessert spoons drinking chocolate powder
A little milk to mix

Tip: Add the milk a drop at a time till required consistency (it doesn’t take much). It should be smooth and thick. Icing the cake while still a little warm will make the icing spread more easily and look shiny and smooth.

A simple way to mix the cake is to mix all the dry ingredients - except the sugar - first, then add sugar and margarine , mixing well, before finally adding the eggs and whisking it well till nice and smooth.

Divide between a 8”(20cm) square tin and an equivalent size round tin. I like the loose bottomed ones.
Preheat oven. Bake at 175-180C for 30-40 minutes. Cool slightly before turning out. Handle with care, as the cake is quite fragile at that stage.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Did you know that… according to a study reported by the BBC, melting chocolate on your tongue produces increased brain activity, as well as a more intense heart rate than when kissing passionately? Apparently this ‘altered’ state during the slow savouring of chocolate, lasts four times as long as it would after a passionate kiss.

Pass the chocolate!

… and did you know that the first chocolate house opened in London in 1657?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Aztecs used the cacao bean as currency. One turkey would cost you one hundred cacao beans, while an avocado would set you back a mere three cacao beans. A case for vegetarianism?
In addition the Aztecs ordered cacao growers in areas they had conquered to use cacao beans to pay their tax.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The alkaloids theobromine and phenethylamine, present in chocolate, has been linked to serotonin levels – the feel good factor - in the brain. It’s also claimed that chocolate (high in cocoa solids), when eaten in moderation, can have a positive effect on blood pressure by effectively lowering it.
Dark chocolate contains free radical-reducing antioxidants.

Tip: Don’t share your chocolate with your pets (as if you would!). It’s poisonous to both cats and dogs ( because of the theobromine it contains).

Oat Flap Jacks

The plan was to make Chocolaty Oat Flap Jacks, but the girls voted to eat the chocolate bars first, and suggested adding cherries and raisins to the oat mixture in place of the chocolate. As I have difficulties resisting a bar of chocolate myself, I didn't. The flap jacks turned out very nicely without it (and it meant that Jacob - 10 1/2 months, and Aleksander - almost 2 - could have a piece or three, too!).

Oat Flap Jacks with Raisins and Glacé Cherries

5 oz (125 g) margarine (this can be dairy free)
4 oz (100g) Demerara sugar or other brown sugar
3-4 tbsp golden syrup
10 oz (250g) rolled oats
(Basic recipe)

A small handful of raisins (or three of the children’s snack boxes!)
About 6 glacé cherries, chopped.

(To make the chocolate ones, melt two bars of milk chocolate and spread over the top of the Flap Jacks while still warm.)

Combine margarine, sugar and syrup in a saucepan and melt over a low heat, until sugar has dissolved, then add raisins and cherries, before mixing in all the oats. Pour into greased pan, 8” (20 cm) square, pressing the mixture down a little.
Bake in oven preheated to 180C, for 25-30 minutes, or until golden brown. Cool a little, cut into squares, then cool completely before removing from tin.
Tip: Line the bottom of the baking tin with baking paper or grease proof paper to help remove cooled flap jacks from the tin (I will next time).
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oats are rich in protein (13%), as well as containing 8.7 per cent fat. These fats are made up of the three main types, saturated, monounsaturated and polyunsaturated. It contains only a small amount of saturated fat, which is good news, but provides good quantities of essential fatty acids.
As oats only contain negligible amounts of gluten, compared to say, wheat, many coeliac patients can tolerate oats in their diet, but there are also many who can’t. If you have gluten intolerance, or if you are suffering from coeliac disease, you ought to ask for tests to determine whether oats can, or should, be included in your diet.
It would be a pity to avoid eating oats if you don’t have to, as it has a wide range of health benefits - from lowering cholesterol to preventing heart disease. It contain a wide range of vitamins and minerals, dietary fibre, and starchy carbohydrate and is beneficial to people with diabetes (not this recipe, though!), because of its effects on blood glucose and subsequent insulin response.

Did you know… that filling a sock with oats – and tying the top – then placing it in the bath water while you take a bath, can help problem skin? Or that beta-glucan, a soluble fibre found in the cell walls of the kernels is used to make an anti-wrinkle therapy? Better than Botox any day, as no injections are required (although I’ll settle for my wrinkles. I’ve earned them)!

Kristina's Carrot Soup

With thanks to Kristina for kindly letting me use her recipe. She didn’t let it go easily! She’s inventive in the kitchen, like her grandmother, and when I had to wave farewell to the potatoes in my soups, she changed to brown rice. It acts as a thickener and ‘rounds’ the flavour off, too. She often brings down a jug of soup for our lunch, so this is the first time I’ve actually made it.

I had a dishful of carrot thinnings out of the garden, some the size of baby carrots and some even smaller, and my first thought was ‘carrot soup!’ Although I was supposed to chop them before cooking, these were so small that I could fry them whole (as cooking them whole is the healthiest way to cook them), after topping and tailing. I just washed them and popped them into the hot olive oil, together with the onion.



Aleksander enjoying nanny's carrot soup!


Kristina’s Carrot Soup

1 onion
8 medium carrots (or the equivalent in different sizes)
1 litre/2 pints of vegetable stock, gluten free
3 tbsp brown rice

Fry chopped onions and carrots gently in olive oil or butter (I used olive oil) for 15 minutes, in a saucepan, rather than frying pan, then add stock and rinsed, brown rice. Simmer for 25 minutes, then cool a little before blending. I use a stick blender in small bursts. Add seasoning as required. We had ours fairly ‘mild’ at lunch time, but I added curry powder, chili powder, a little garlic pure and tomato pure to my other half’s portion – and it was delicious (I had to taste it).
Serve as it is, with toasted gluten free bread on the side, or garnish with a little coriander or a swirl of single cream.

Tip: Don’t mix Imperial and Metric measures like I did. I initially added a pint of water, instead of a litre, and had to add more at the end!

Nice and Simple: Grated Carrot and Mayo Salad

My mother went to what I jokingly called ‘housewifery school’ (something like today’s Domestic Science, I suppose) in her teens. Come to think of it, perhaps she was the original domestic goddess (unlike me), along with many of her generation.
When it came to stretching the food, she had all sorts of tricks up her sleeve, and was the mother of many a scrumptious invention. This is one of them. Why spend ridiculous money for a sandwich spread that can be made quickly and cheaply, whether you profess to be able to cook or not?
I cooked carrots and garden peas to go with my other half’s liver and onions yesterday, and reserved a carrot, and a generous helping of peas for my Grated Carrot Salad.

Grated Carrot and Mayo Salad

Grated carrot
Cooled cooked garden peas (tinned can be used)
Light mayonnaise, enough to make a nice mix (not too little!)

Combine the lot and heap onto a slice of toasted gluten free bread (I find it difficult to swallow shop bought gluten free bread unless it’s toasted first), and put the rest aside for again. It’s a nice addition to green salads, too.

I had the grated carrot salad for breakfast today. A nice, fresh start to my day.

*

The carrots I buy - or we grow - are always orange. Sometimes of slightly different hues, but orange none-the-less. Yet, I read that carrots are usually orange, purple, red, white or yellow. Purple, red, white or yellow? I knew that these were the original colours, and that the orange coloured carrot was developed in Holland in the 17th century, but I have yet to see any other colour carrot being sold locally.

Did you know… that cooked carrots are more nutritious than raw (unless juiced)? This is because the body can’t break down the fibrous nature of the carrot.

The wild carrot probably originated in Far East – and only arrived in the UK in the mid 17th century (first sown in Beckington, Somerset). The old man that brought the first seeds (and remains unknown) probably didn’t know that he brought a goldmine of nutrients to our diets.
Carrots have lots of important vitamins and minerals, particularly the antioxidants Beta Carotene, Alpha Carotene, Phytochemicals and Glutathione, Calcium and Potassium, and vitamins A, B1, B2, C, and E ( also considered antioxidants), as well as a form of easily absorbable calcium and not forgetting Copper, Iron, Magnesium and Manganese, Phosphorous.and Sulphur.

Tip: By boiling carrots whole, then slicing them after cooling, you increase their anti-cancer properties by 25%.

Fingerlickin’ Good!

Quick! Get the camera before they’re all gone! The banana mini muffins were too tempting not to taste, so all of us did. The baby, Jacob, even gave up his rusk in favour of a muffin. I don’t blame him. Besides, banana is his favourite, and his cousin, Aleksander (almost 2 years old) had added his magic touch by mixing the dry ingredients for nan.
Just to make sure, they had another one, and so did the adults. Yum!

Banana Mini Muffins

1 ½ cup mixed corn flour and gluten free plain white flour
2 tsp baking powder
¼ tsp cinnamon
1 level tsp vanilla sugar
¾ cup Demerara sugar
3 good tbsp softened margarine
2 medium egg

Mix all the dry ingredient, except the sugar, together.
Add sugar and margarine and mix well, then the eggs and mashed banana.
Give it a good energetic stir, ten divide into moulds. I use mini silicon muffin trays for ease. Should make 36 mini muffins or 12 regular size ones. I made 24 small and 6 regular at lunch time, and they were all gone by tea time.

Put into pre-heated oven, 175-180C, for 13-15 minutes for mini muffins and 25-30 for regular size ones.

Tip: Make a double batch!


Did you know… that two bananas a day can help reduce high blood pressure according to recent research?

Spirits

'What you talkin' 'bout, Willis?'
'God's honest truth, bosun - I seen the spirits, clear as day...'
‘I ain’t no bosun- that’s ship talk – I is you boss – and no more of that nonsense – you hear?’
‘It ain’t no nonsense, I tell you – I seen it…’
‘Yeah, yeah, through the bottom of that bottle, I s’pose. Clear as day. Clear as the bloody sediment in that beer, I reckon.’
Boss man, named George by his mama, slapped Willis’ back.
‘There ain’t no spirits in that shack. Who been telling you tales?’
Willis paled. ‘No one bosun, I tell you… Don’t go there. ‘ He shuddered. ‘Did you see that then?’
‘See what?’ George looked at the curtain and could swear he saw a figure moving about inside… ‘That curtain moved – and see – look – man, I’m outta here!’


‘Willis – you’re ace man. Cheers!’ Arthur, comrade in arms and fellow shack residents chuckled. ‘You got him good and proper, didn’t ye, Willis? As for this spirit, ma-an, it’s good.’

*

(Even if it wasn't quite Damson Vodka!)

Marit, Marit, what does your garden yield?

Well, there's a courgette or two and a few tomatoes picked the other day. No mushrooms, of course, but foraging through my fridge unearthed a few that didn't go into the lasagna - and they're still good. Great, I can have a risotto, with left-over salmon from yesterday's lunch.

I have had to switch to brown rice, and not too much of that. White rice equals too many carbohydrates turning themselves into sugar and sending me into a deep sleep.


Brown Rice Risotto

Serves 2 (or one portion for now, one for the freezer)

2 small cups brown rice
2 tsp gluten free vegetable stock powder

Wash rice, then add boiling water to cover, and vegetable stock powder.

I left it to simmer while I made Corned Beef Hash for my other half. I had lots of potatoes left from Sunday lunch. You would have thought I was cooking for the whole neighbourhood! As that, too, simmered away, i got on with cooking the rest of the ingredients for the risotto:

1 courgette (Zucchini), cut in half length ways, then sliced
1 onion, finely chopped
A few mushrooms (I wish I had some Chanterelles)
4 small tomatoes*
fillet/steak of salmon, baked (leftovers are fine)
a little grated cheese

Fry onion and courgettes in a little olive oil until softened, then add sliced mushrooms. Cook until the mix is nicely browned and the aroma makes makes your mouth water.
At this stage the rice should be ready. If the rice needs draining (it shouldn't, but happens), use a sieve rather than a colander - to stop half of it going down the sink. It's happened to me a few times.

Add the mix to the pan of rice, then quarter the tomatoes and fry quickly together with the salmon, before adding that too, to the rice. A little grated cheese to taste, and hey presto, a delicious, simple risotto.

* It's funny how I can eat tomatoes grown in the garden, but have bad reactions to shop bought ones.


Did you know… that zucchini has been eaten for several thousand years in Central and South America, but that the zucchini (summer squash) we eat these days was developed in Italy?
Zucchini (zucchino in Italian) means a small squash – and the term squash in turn comes from the Indian word skutasquash: ‘green thing eaten green’. Courgette is simply the French word for zucchini.

Another of Christopher Columbus’s discoveries, I believe.

Why no photo? Risotto isn't exactly the most photogenic dish, is it? Besides, I was hungry!

Sunday Roast with a Difference

While the rest of the family tucked into their roast chicken dinners (I did pinch some of their vegetables, but that was overload!), I enjoyed a roast with a difference:

Roast Beetroot, Sweet Potato and Onion

1 lge or 2 small beetroot
2 small sweet potatoes (about the same weight-wise as beetroot)
1 medium onion
Peel, chop into large chunks, sprinkle with salt (and any other seasoning you might like) and drizzle with olive oil.
Roast in oven for about an hour, but turn about half way through.

Serve with salmon, oven baked. I like mine plain and simple, with just a little olive oil drizzled over before baking.

Did you know… that Sweet Potato and Yam is not the same plant? I didn’t, until a short while ago (minutes, in fact). There’s one kind of Yam commonly found in North America, and another, very different kind, which is native to Africa and Asia – and then there’s the Sweet Potato, native to the tropical parts of South America, but now grown widely throughout the world. That’s the kind I eat. It’s at least 5000 years old – although I like mine a bit fresher that that!
I like the Latin name Ipomoea batatas. It is a distant relative of the potato, so perhaps not so strange. It’s related to the garden plant ‘Morning Glory’, too.
Fact: It’s one of our most nutritious vegetables, beating the potato hands down.
(I have nothing against the humble potato. It was a staple of our diet as I grew up, and I can’t imagine anything nicer than boiled potatoes mashed in my mother’s gravy. Real comfort food. Alas, that’s one for the memories. I can’t eat potatoes any more, nor the kind of gravy my mum made.)

A Damson in Distress...

...or a bagful, to be correct. What can you do with damsons? Hmmm... I was going to make carrot soup today, but the damsons and a bagful of apples begged to be used. I tossed the ideas around in my head, wondering about damson jam, apple and damson jelly, damson cheese, damson chutney or damson vodka. RA sufferers - specially those with stomach problems, shouldn't drink alcohol. Besides, I'll be making blackcurrant vodka soon. Just for that tiny medicinal drop, you understand. It's supposedly good for the blood - even when the stomach protests.

I plumped for a chutney and altered it slightly to suit my ingredients - then hoped for the best.

DAMSON AND APPLE CHUTNEY

1 ½ lb (750g) damsons
2 apples , cored, peeled and chopped
2 small onions, chopped
1 ¼ cup white sugar
2 tbsp Demerara sugar
1 ¼ cup apple cider vinegar (although most recipes says white wine vinegar)
¼ cup raisins (I snuck 3 little boxes of Sun Maid Raisins from my grandchildrens' treats!)
1 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp mixed spices (I cheated and used the kind that is supposed to be freshly ground and used for seasoning meat for barbeque's. It has all the right ingredients - and no gluten. Leave the spices whole.)

Put everything together in a roomy saucepan and bring to the boil, stirring gently - then simmer for an hour until the chutney thickens and starts to get a little sticky. It's done. Bottle into hot, sterilised jars. This makes about 2lb of chutney.
It tastes good, too.

Tip: Count your damsons, then remove the stones just before the chutney is bottled, counting them back out.

I had a saucepan full of apples and a few damsons left, so I stewed them, added a bit of sugar and set it aside. Tomorrow I'll serve this 'compote' with ice cream - and get on with the carrot soup.

A Little Snack: Beetroot Salad

I was given some lovely homegrown beetroot the other day, and although I like pickled beetroot, my favourite way of eating it is as 'beetroot salad'. My mother used to buy tubs of it specially for me whenever I visited them in Norway, and although I haven't been able to replicate the flavour exactly, plain boiled beetroot, chopped finely and mixed with light mayonnaise hits the spot for me (check the mayo for gluten).
Beetroot is also an excellent source of iron - and as I have longstanding chronic anaemia because of rheumatoid arthritis - I can do with a bit of a boost.


Did you know that he Romans considered beetroot an aphrodisiac? It might just be something in that, as it contains copious amounts of boron, which is important in the production of sex hormones.
It also contains betaine, a substance to relax the mind, which is also used to treat depression. Better still (and perhaps this is why I like it so much), it contains trytophan, which is also found in chocolate. Trytophan contributes to a sense of well being.

I’ve got my stash of beetroot for the weekend!

My Mum's Apple Cake Recipe and 'Friday Cake', a short story

My sister's tale of apple cake mishap earlier this week, reminded me of my mother's apple cake. She often made it on a Friday, for the weekend (and it so happens that this recipe is followed by a short story, entitled Friday Cake).

My sister's mishap? Oh, should I tell? I did ask if it would be okay - and as she didn't say no... here goes. She decided to make use of the apples form their old apple tree by baking an apple cake. Nobody will eat the fruit, and the harvest is sparse, but an apple cake always goes down well. Almost always!
As she closed the oven door, she realised that she had forgotten to add baking powder, so she whipped it out a bit quick and stirred it in, then added more crushed sugar to the top (it makes a lovely, crunchy texture).
Some time later my sister and her husband, their daughter and her partner, sat down outside in the autumn air, ready to enjoy warm apple cake with cold whipped cream*. Her daughter took the first bite and almost gagged on the cake, spluttering something very uncomplimentary about the worst cake she'd ever eaten. My sister's jaw dropped and her eyes almost popped out as she watched her daughter spit her cake out. The realisation dawned, and she howled with laughter (as did the rest of them!). She had sprinkled the top of the cake liberally with - sea salt!

Her next effort was perfect.

*Whipped cream with desserts are as common in Norway as custard with apple pie over here.


My Mum’s Apple Cake

5 oz (125g) softened margarine
5 oz (125g) sugar
2 medium eggs
5 oz (125g) plain gluten free flour
5 oz (125g) corn flour
2 heaped tsp gluten free baking powder
½ tsp vanilla sugar
1 tbsp semi skimmed milk
I large or two medium dessert apples, cored, quartered and sliced
Sugar and cinnamon for sprinkling on apples

Cream sugar and margarine together, add a little of the flour, then mix in the eggs and milk. Mix all the dry ingredients together and add to mixture. You may have to get you hands in there to knead it lightly together – or I’d better re-phrase that – you will have to get your hands into the dough.

Turn into a greased and lightly floured 8” (20cm) loose bottomed sandwich tin,
(2” (5cm) deep, pushing down into tin using your fingers (I have to use my knuckles). Arrange apple slices around tin (see photo), then sprinkle with sugar and cinnamon.
Put on the middle shelf in a cold oven, then set to 180C (fan oven) and cook for one hour. If you stick a knife into the middle to test it, it should come out clean, showing that the cake is ready.
Cool, then run a knife around the edge to loosen it before removing from tin.
(If you don’t have to worry about wheat or gluten, use ordinary plain flour and omit the milk.)
*
Tip: I used ‘Fiddes Payne’ Vanilla Sugar (www.fiddespayne.co.uk), but you can easily make your own by steeping a few vanilla pods in icing sugar for a few days, then sift the sugar and store in an airtight jar.


Did you know that vanilla is made from the pods of a climbing orchid? The Aztecs used it to flavour chocolate. And we still use it.


*

SHORT STORY

Friday Cake

(Set at the turn of the 20th century)

‘Mam?’
Freddie’s mother nodded. ‘Mind your step, son.’
Freddie knew to be careful. It wasn’t the actual getting caught that worried him, but bringing shame on his mother. Despite their reduced circumstances since the death of Freddie’s father, his mother was a proud woman - and as independent as she could possibly be.

‘We do not need alms, Freddie!’ She was sure the Good Lord didn’t mind Freddie bringing home a few liberated vegetables, a bucket of coal gleaned from the so-called exhausted open-cast, and a few apples when in season, all the same. She wasn’t so sure about the landlord, though - but didn’t all young boys go scrumping now and then? At least Freddie never took more than they needed.

She couldn’t complain about the landlord, if truth be told. He had allowed them to stay on when Albert was taken ill and died - as long as Freddie took his place on the farm. There weren’t any ifs or buts. The day Freddie’s father died was the last day of school for Freddie, although his two sisters were allowed to continue. He had become the man of the house, at the tender age of thirteen, and he had to work for their meagre living.

Cutting hay was thirsty work. The landlord’s wife brought flagons of cider and the farm workers’ wives brought lunch in baskets. Freddie was the only young one and was allowed home for a bite to eat and drink. His mother didn’t like him drinking cider.

He made a quick detour by the landlord’s orchard, hiding in the shadows. Four apples he needed, and four apples he took. He had them safely under his cap quicker than the blink of an eye and was home and through the door just as his mother ladled up his broth. He slipped the apples into the larder. ‘What the eye doesn’t see…’

Freddie had a good rhythm going with the scythe and felt good as swathes of golden grass yielded to the sharp blade. He had nothing on his mind, other than what he was doing at that moment, when the landlord placed his hand on his shoulder, making him jump. Had he been seen?

‘I’ll be around this evening, young Freddie, for my Friday cake.’
Freddie smiled and nodded. ‘Yes sir!’ As long as all his mother had to do for the landlord was make a cake, he was happy.
They were sitting down to supper when the landlord called. ‘Don’t let me disturb you, but may I?’ He cut a slice off one of the cakes cooling on the rack, knowing that one was meant for him. ‘Mmm. Very good, Mrs Evans. Even better than usual.’ He nodded to himself, savouring another bite as Freddie’s mother busied herself wrapping the rest of the cake in a clean cloth, her cheeks a little pinker than usual. The landlord stopped by the door, as if to say something, but seemed to think better of it.
‘Thank you, Mrs Evans. I’m much obliged.’ With a nod he was gone.

‘Freddie, that was the wrong cake!’ His mother sounded close to tears. ‘He took the apple cake, instead of the plain one. He’ll know where we got the apples from. We’re in trouble now, for sure.’

They didn’t sleep well that night, expecting the worst, and neither Freddie nor his mother had the appetite for anything the next morning. The girls were their usual selves, glad of a day free of books and Miss Brown.

‘Can we pick flowers, mama?’

‘Eggs first, girls.’ They had three layers left, still providing them with their needs. Just.
Freddie’s sisters raced one another for the door and almost stumbled over the basket on the door step. ‘Mama!’ They hauled he basket into the kitchen. ‘Look, mama, apples! Can we have one?’
Freddie’s mother handed him a note. ‘What does it say, Freddie?’

Freddie read with a smile on his face. ‘It’s from the landlord, mam. He says that from now on you can make apple cake every week, both for him and us.’ He laughed. ‘I think there are enough there for the girls to have one each, don’t you?’

***

A Few Facts about Yorkshire Pudding...

...is coming soon. I've lost the file!

Dripping Pudding – and Empty Bellies

(It wasn’t called Yorkshire Pudding back then.)

‘Careful, Elisabeth - that leg of mutton cost me best part of a day’s work.’
‘You call this a leg? It’s nothing more than scrag end. I suppose that’s all a day’s work is worth to you, is it?’
‘Elisabeth, my soldiers have less than this.’
‘Ah, but I’m sure there will be dripping pudding for all – and good gravy to go with it, to fill those empty bellies.’
Silence filled the room as the master pondered. With nine children to feed, dripping pudding was a good way of filling hungry stomachs. He was so sure Elisabeth had provisions in the pantry. She was an excellent housekeeper. But lately…
‘Elisabeth, I would like to inspect the larder and your accounts.’
Hollow laughter filled the room. ‘Master Oliver, what accounts? When did we ever keep accounts?’
‘Ah, I suppose you’re right. The less we have to carry, the better, but I think we are going to get through this.’
‘You mean to rule the country, as well as your little family, sir?’
‘So I do, and with God’s help…’
‘Are you really going to go ahead with it, father? Don’t you think the Royalists will stop you in your tracks?’
‘Richard, my son. Loose tongues! Do not mention my business again. Suffice to say that I’ve gathered men, more than enough.’
‘You mean you persuaded them gently.’
‘Richard!’
‘It’s true, mother. His soldiers and their families won’t go hungry tonight. They’ll be sharing mutton and dripping pudding with gravy. I saw father share out the provisions meant for us.’
‘Son, I was sure your mother would have a plentiful supply.’
‘You were wrong this time, sir. I’m afraid the children will go hungry tonight. A good heart won’t fill their stomachs.’ Elisabeth shook her head as a knock came at the door.
‘Will you answer that, Richard?’
‘Yes, father.’
Three women stood outside, soldiers’ wives all, holding out covered trays.
‘Give – and ye shall receive.’ They uncovered the trays. Roast mutton, dripping pudding and bread.

Master Oliver smiled at his wife. ‘The Cromwell's won’t go hungry this night either, wife. The Good Lord Doth Provide.’

Gluten-Free Yorkshire Pudding

The first gluten-free Christmas was the first time I really missed Yorkshire Pudding. Being a vegetarian, I looked forward to the customary nut-roast, but that was off the menu, too, as it contained breadcrumbs. It hadn’t dawned on me that my plate would also be devoid of the usual Yorkshire Pud. Thankfully one of my girls had made an alternative nut-roast, so dinner was still enjoyable.
Many a Christmas has passed since then, and it’s only now that I have found a recipe where gluten-free flour can be used to make a very good pudding indeed.
Why did it take so long? I just didn’t think of it as a possibility, until I decided to put together a collection of gluten-free recipes, but then it struck me as a good place to start. After all, Yorkshires can be used as starters/canapés, as part of a main meal, and as a dessert. All three at the same sitting might be a bit of an overload, though.

Basic Gluten-Free Yorkshire Pudding Recipe:

Preparation time approx. 10 minutes
Cooking time, approx, 20 minutes, in pre-heated oven (210C, Gas 7)
This quantity should make 10 individual puddings, using muffin tins.

2 oz (50g) corn flour
2 oz (0g) gluten-free flour (I use Dove)
A pinch of salt if desired. I never add salt, but a pinch of an appropriate herb - say Sage, if you’re serving with roast chicken - is a good idea.
3 medium eggs, beaten (organic, free range really do taste better)
¼ pint (140ml) milk (semi-skimmed is fine)

2 tblsps vegetable oil, to grease tins.

Place oil in tins, just under a teaspoonful in each tin, and heat for a few minutes.

Mix corn flour and gluten-free flour in a bowl and add pinch of salt or herbs, as desired.
Add the beaten eggs and beat well to form a nice, thick batter.
Add milk gradually and mix until a smooth batter is formed,
Divide evenly in tins and cook until nicely risen and golden brown.

Tip: Add a tsp of gluten free baking powder to the mix!

The Humble Bread Pudding

I can't remember ever having anything remotely similar to a bread pudding back in my home country (Norway). My grandfather had his own way of dealing with stale bread and crusts. He'd cube them, sprinkle on brown sugar, then add hot black coffee, followed by cold milk.

My mother-in-law (or mother-in-love as my own mother nick-named her) showed me how to make her version - and I have stuck with that, more or less, ever since. No proper weights and measures, just whatever stale bread was available, plus a little of this and a little of that, all mixed together to a mush, with some dried fruit thrown in and then baked till 'spongy'.

I made a bread pudding today, along the same lines, but I also made a gluten free version, noting down the quantities as I went. A proper recipe, no less. It was successful, too - it looked good (see photo) and tasted good.

GLUTEN FREE BREAD PUDDING

7 slices - or half a loaf of multi seeded (brown) sliced bread (Free From shelf in supermarkets)

A splash of hot water from the kettle

A mug of semi skimmed milk

1 oz (25g) softened block margarine (I use Stork)

3 tbsp Demerera sugar

1 lge egg (mine are from happy chickens roaming free)

1 oz (25g) + plain gluten free flour (such as Dove Farm)

1 tsp mixed spice

1 tsp gluten free baking powder

4 oz (100g) mixed, dried fruit

This kind of gluten free shop-bought bread is so fragile that it's usually already broken up in the packet, in my experience - but if not, just tear into small pieces. Soak in water and milk for an hour or two, then make sure it's turned into a 'mush', using a wooden spoon. Cream in margarine and sugar, before adding a little of the flour. Break the egg into this before mixing well.

Using a little of the flour when adding the egg, stops the egg curdling.

Add the rest of the flour, the mixed spice and the baking powder and mix it all together. Give it a good stir before adding the mixed fruit, then pour it into a greased 2lb (1kg) loaf tin.

I baked it in a fan oven at 180C, for 45 minutes, then turned the oven off, leaving the pudding in till the oven had completely cooled before taking it out.

I like it as it is, but add sauces/custard as desired.

Did you know...

that bread pudding had its humble beginnings in Britain, back in the 13th century - and that it was called 'poor man's pudding'? It was also known as Bodding - and Brood Pudding (similar to what the Norwegian word for it: Bród Pudding)

I can't imagine the real poor ever having any bread left to go stale, nor sugar and spices, back in those days - so I'm not so sure about the suitability of the name - but that's how the story goes.

Perhaps the humble bread pudding wasn't as humble as it made out to be. Perhaps then as now* (*in fine restaurants, no less), it was served as a culinary delight, topped with scrumptious sauces - or as a savoury dish with the addition of meat or fish.

Still - my gluten free brood pudding is as humble and simple as it can be - yet it can be tarted up with the rest of them, given the occasion.