Nettle Soup, take 2

One of the exciting things about being back in the UK is being able to go and forage once again!  We did try this in Brunei, managing to gather some mangos before the local monkeys got to them, but foraging in the jungle was always a little risky in my mind, so we didn't really dare.

But now is the season for one of the most satisfying foraging of the year, nettles.  We have a field ajoining our garden than is currently full of young nettles, and as they need clearing anyway we thought we'd kill the proverbial two birds with one stone and eat some of the ones we cleared.  OK, I say 'we', but this was Rob's job - he picked, washed and cooked them with delicious results.

We had made nettle soup before (as blogged about previously) but this time Rob used a Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall recipe, found on guardian online.  Personally I wouldn't have bothered with a recipe, but he wanted to so I didn't interfere!

It was delicious anyway.  The nettles just taste 'green', but healthy and nutritious, rather like spinach I suppose.  Ted enjoyed it too!

Foraging

I've always thought that Autumn was the best time for foraging for food. All those blackberries, hazelnuts, rosehips... But I'm beginning to realise that Spring is just as good - if not better- for harvesting some free food from the hedgerows.

This burst of sunshine over the last week has been amazing, it really lifts the spirits (especially as it coincided so neatly with the half-term holiday). I couldn't help but notice that the hedges are beginning to be dotted with beautiful cream-coloured elderflowers, so headed out on my bike with a basket.



I was a little early to be doing this to be honest - many of the flower-heads were not quite blooming, and many that were were way too high up for me to reach. However, I did manage to fill my basket and soon I was at home rediscovering just how simple it is to make elderflower cordial.



I think that I got this recipe from my parents, several years ago. We have made it before, but didn't make any while we lived in Canada - in fact I struggle to remember whether I even saw elder trees in Ontario..?

Anyway, you simply mix together 40 heads of elderflowers, 3oz citric acid (I got mine from the chemist - just ask at the pharmacy counter), 3 1/4 lb sugar, 2 sliced lemons and 3 pints of boiling water. Mix everything in a large container - a bucket is great, I used a washing-up bowl - cover and leave for 5 days. Helpful hint - rinse the flower heads very well. I have quite a few bugs floating in my cordial! They will of course get strained out. And it's only a bit of extra protein...

After a few days, strain and bottle it. I also like to freeze tubs of it so that it can be scooped straight into a glass and topped up with water, meaning that there is no need for ice-cubes. This also stops the cordial fermenting as can happen if you bottle it.



On the subject of fermenting, I would really like to try elderflower champagne too... I have found several different recipes online for this, some very different from others, but think I'm going to go with Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's recipe, which can be found here. I'll let you know how it goes...

My other foraging success has been wild garlic. We discovered this last week, growing in Wendover Woods, so gathered a bag full. The leaves have a very delicate garlicky flavour, almost more like chives, and they can be used like any leafy vegetable.



They are lovely eaten raw as a salad leaf, but I used mine chopped and stirred through cooked pasta with my homemade walnut pesto.



I cycled up to the woods again today to collect some more (to be added to my salad tonight) and found that the leaves of the plants are beginning to turn yellow. I managed to collect enough bright green ones for supper, but I think it's nearing the end of its season. I'm glad we caught it when we did.

Do you forage? What for? Have you ever made Nettle Soup? That might be my next challenge...

Sweet as Honey

To be honest, if I'd seen a recipe entitled 'Wholemeal Honey Cake', I probably wouldn't have tried it. Why is it that the word 'wholemeal' sounds so... well... worthy? One thing that a cake should never be is dull, and I might have suspected that this one would be, except that I tasted it a while back, as made by my sister-in-law Anne, and it's amazing. The fact that it's made with wholemeal flour just adds to its amazingness as you can pretty much convince yourself that it's a healthfood. If you try to forget the fact that it contains 350g of butter that is...

Honey has featured high on my list of favourite foods recently, since practically the entire month of January has been spent with an ill person in our household. First I got 'the cold from hell' (resulting in a lost voice, among other symptoms, to the delight of my class), and then just as I was pulling out of the slough of sickness, Rob dived right in. Bummer. He has the 'pathetic' look perfected, as you can see.



Still, this provided ample opportunity to serve him cups of tea in our new (but clearly produced 3 years ago) Emma Bridgewater mug...



Where was I? Right, honey... Honey was recommended to me as a throat-soothing antiseptic, so both Rob and I have been eating honey on toast. I'm not quite sure why we didn't go down the hot-toddy route, but I seem to recall that the cold gave one that 'morning after' feeling all day, so the addition of alcohol somehow didn't seem appealing.

However, this cake ticked all the boxes as far as comfort food is concerned, looking - as well as tasting - utterly divine. The honey is not added to the cake batter, but drizzled liberally over the top while the cake is still hot. It permeates the top layer of the sponge making it deliciously moist, but also sits gleaming atop the flaked almonds.



The recipe comes courtesy of Anne, photocopied from the Guardian Weekend magazine, part of an article written by one of my favourite foodies Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. Hugh says that this recipe was devised by his Head Chef at River Cottage, Gill Mellor, and suggests serving it warm as a dessert with lashings of cream, or cold with a cup of tea or coffee. We went for it warm from the pan, with frothing mugs of hot chocolate.



And a dollop of creme fraiche!



We found that this was a cake best eaten slightly warmed - just 10 seconds in the microwave is enough to make it even more meltingly tender-crumbed - but I wouldn't push it away if it were cold. It makes a large cake, and one that lasts for several days without suffering. We have been eating a slice a day all week.

I was on the verge of typing out the recipe when I did a quick search and found it here, along with the complete article - full of marvellous honey-facts - and many more honeyish recipes. I'm very tempted by the Honey Parfait.

Hurray for the bees!