I wake abruptly at three o’clock to the sound of more rain beating on the window panes; more rain and still more rain. Will it never stop?  Nervously I look out of the window into the first shards of dawn light and watch a veil of water drifting sideways past the window. The wind howls, I watch the trees bending their knees in the half light. It’s July. Floods are swamping Britain. The biggest rescue operation since the Second World War, shouts the radio. Television pictures show towns and cities under water, houses destroyed, people staring uncomprehending at the wreckage of their homes, crops submerged, fields turned to lakes, herons fishing amongst the corn. Pea crops rot before harvester’s eyes as they wait for the deluge to ease. In the South West gentle rivers on the Moor are transformed into raging brown rapids. Sheep shorn for summer sun shudder coldly in the relentless tropical down pour. I climb anxiously back to bed and await morning.

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As we march into June the valley puts on its thick summer coat. The skeleton shapes of winter, clothed, oh, so gingerly in spring, are suddenly engulfed in furry foliage. Shapes merge and disappear; hillsides take on different contours, swathed in green lushness. Strong winds blow huge cumulous across the transparent sky. Giant shadows come and go playing tricks with the light. Sparse pastures are replaced by shimmering grass and the hedgerows are littered with wild flowers.

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Take two red peppers, ten tomatillos, ten plumb tomatoes, three large cloves Elephant garlic, sprinkle them with olive oil and put them on a roasting tray in a very hot oven. Keep a check on them and remove each as they become soft. The peppers will take longest, up to 20/25 mins. Skin the tomatoes and garlic and place in food processor. Don’t blitz yet! Add the softened tomatillos and the peeled peppers. Take the peel off a lemon with a potato peeler, leaving behind the pith. Add this and the juice of the lemon to the ingredients in the processor. Add a good handful of roughly chopped parsley and chervil and two hot chillies. Add salt and freshly ground black pepper. Now blitz it all very quickly for just a few seconds. Add 3 oz olive oil. Taste, adjust seasoning if necessary. Add a dash of hot chilli sauce if the chillies are not particularly hot. Stand for an hour before using..

Harvest Time

I have never preserved cherry tomatoes in spiced vinegar before so this year is a bit of an experiment. I filled sterilised kilner jars with tiny, freshly picked tomatoes which I pricked with a wooden cocktail stick. I added basil leaves, lemon zest and black peppercorns. Then I covered them with hot spiced vinegar. I push the tomatoes down with the handle of a wooden spoon to get rid of air pockets and made sure the top ones were well covered with vinegar. Then I covered them with a wax disc and sealed the jars at once. I used new seals on the kilner jars. .

To spice the vinegar I brought distilled, clear white vinegar and a little clear apple juice to the boil, took it off the heat and infused it with a bag of mixed spice; cloves, black pepper corns, dried chilli, coriander seed, allspice berries; you can make your own mix. But one thing I have discovered is if you boil the vinegar with the spices it will go cloudy and spoil the tomatoes. So I let it cool, take out the spice bag, reheat and pour over the tomatoes.

Of course as summer fades into Autumn I have masses of Tomatillos left and the weather is too cold for salsa now so Chutney seems the best answer.

I chop up apples and onions. Halve the large tomatoes and tomatillos, leave the little ones whole. I use all the tomatoes left in the greenhouse, red and green. After chopping and weighing everything, it all goes into a big preserving pan, with about 250 grams of sugar to 3 kilos of fruit , a tablespoon of salt and some spices. I use cloves, fresh ginger, allspice, mustard seed and chilli, and this time I even added a piece of star anise. I give the pot a good stir then add 1pint of white wine vinegar. I let it all simmer gently, stirring occasionally till the liquid is reduced and it has become a thick, rich golden mass. I let it cool a little, then pot into clean warm jars, cover with wax circles and jam covers and put away for the winter months ahead.

Off course you can leave out the tomatillos!

Tomatillos

Living as we do in a place much favoured by holiday makers we often have too many eggs in winterout of the holiday season. 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.
First I make the spiced vinegar. Two pints or just over a litre will cover about a dozen eggs depending on their size. Simmer white wine vinegar with a piece of crushed root ginger and twenty or so black peppercorns. Allow to cool.
Hard boil the eggs. This is the only time when it is easier to shell the eggs if they are a few days old, so difficult to keep the white in tact when the egg is very fresh. Put the peeled eggs in wide necked jars, Kilner jars are ideal. Push a piece of chilli and a strip of lemon zest taken off the lemon with a potato peeler into each jar. I add a couple of garlic cloves too. Then completely cover the eggs with the vinegar and fill the jars to the neck. Put the tops on the jars and screw shut tightly. The eggs will be ready in four or five weeks and will keep unopened for months. Having a warm kitchen, I am doubly careful and store my jars at the back of the fridge.

Pickled Eggs

A friend of mine, who has recently had to take on all the family cooking for the first time, looked at me in a puzzled way the other day and said “When you’re making soup where does the liquid come from?” Well, if you have never cooked before it’s a very good question! I laughed and explained about making stock,: take the meat off the cooked chicken, I said, put the carcass in a pot, fill the pot with water, add a bay leaf, some herbs, a carrot, an onion and put the whole thing in the bottom of your kitchen range and go to bed! “Goodness” he said and looked delighted.

Just then our conversation was interrupted, someone else spoke to me and our conversation on soup finished. But I overheard him pursuing the subject with a photographer friend of ours. “Where do you get the liquid from?” he asked again “A stock cube, of course!” I laughed to myself. It was like taking my happy snaps to Boots to have them processed when I know my friend works for hours printing to perfection in the dark room. So horses for courses, make your stock or use a cube!

The basis of soup is the same. Sweat vegetables slowly in a covered pan over a gentle heat in a little butter and oil until they are soft. If you want a thick soup add a potato or some rice and stir in a little flour. Omit these if you want a clear soup with bits! When the vegetables are just tender stir in the stock, simmer season and serve.

Nettle and Spinach Soup: take a large bag of young nettles, some spinach leaves and a little sorrel. Remember sorrel has a strong lemon flavour. Chop an onion, a medium potato and a carrot and a crushed clove of garlic and sweat as described above. Add the nettles, spinach and sorrel well washed, wilt in the oil and butter. Now stir in the chicken stock you made from the carcass or that stock cube. Bring to the boil, simmer for 5-8 minutes. Season and puree in the liquidiser or push through a mouli. Return to the pan ,reheat gently and stir in a little cream or crème fraiche. Check the seasoning again and serve sprinkled with chopped herbs.