Venison is a very lean meat much in favour again as we become ever more aware of our cholesterol level and fat intake. Now that we can buy the sort of meat that the Goodman’s produce and no longer go into the forest and shoot an animal of uncertain age we can employ modern cooking techniques more in line with our changing taste in food.
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Whiteface ewe and lamb
It’s still raining and the wind is hurling itself through the valley. The stream has turned from a sedate crystal flow into a boiling brown frothing torrent and the lambs have started to arrive. What a sharp contrast to the warmth of the womb. Last Thursday the ewes came in for tea through driving sleet and snow. Almost immediately the first twins arrived, two small sad little lambs one of which we have already lost despite our best efforts. The survivor is a frail little thing that may or may not make it. Two more ewes followed close behind her but their single offspring were tough little chaps who struggled to their feet and found their own way to the food source quickly.
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Maran chicken
Living as we do in a place much favoured by holiday makers we often have too many eggs at this time of year. Come the tourist season we or rather the hens can’t produce enough. So now is the time for me to put down a supply of pickled eggs for those summer salads and pickled fish dishes.
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Goose and chicken eggs
Two of Idi’s eggs will make a substantial tortilla!
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Jacobs and Whiteface
Some hope things would warm up as we enter March and move towards spring! Freezing rain hammers on the windows as I write. Dogs curl up round my feet turning their noses from the door and donkeys stand dejectedly in their stable dreaming (well maybe they dream!) of sugary grass and warm breezes.
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Out of the deepfreeze comes a shoulder of lamb which I boned and rolled a while back.

To bone any meat use a sharp flexible bladed knife and, sliding it into the meat, work your way along and around the bones. Blunt knives are much more dangerous than sharp ones because you need so much more pressure, then you slip and cut yourself!
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The February east wind whistles round my head and bites into my clothes as I walk head down to the farmyard to let out the chickens and feed the donkeys. The chill intensifies as I climb the hill with the dogs to check the ewes almost ready to lamb. I hope a kindlier wind will greet the first arrivals. Brief bursts of sunshine are beginning to wake up the garden. Snowdrops are fading and daffodils exploding in their place. Camellias open coyly only to be browned by the frost while the crocuses sing.
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