Jan 06 2021

New Year’s Day


We woke on New Year’s morning to a frost-white sparkling world. Tiny clouds bathed in pink sunlight scudded across a turquoise sky.  An omen for a better year, I pondered hopefully, as I struggled out into the frozen landscape. Such a contrast to the recent squelch of months of mud suddenly replaced by the crunch of icy grass beneath my feet. 

A quick breakfast and Millie and I trudged up as usual to the top fields to check the sheep. Dear tough Dartmoor girls grazed quietly on frozen pasture melting quickly in the intermittent sun. The river below shone coldly white; Dartmoor looked grey and ominous in the distance. Gradually, as we retraced our steps, clouds gathered and sun vanished.

Donkeys were not so keen to brave the cold this morning; so different from yesterday! For several weeks now they have had to stay in their big barn. Tiny Freddie has been lame for almost three weeks despite the efforts of vet and farrier. So poor old Christos has had to keep him company with silly old Larry-the-Lamb who still refuses to join the other wethers, rushing back into the donkey shed whenever the opportunity arises!  I really am beginning to believe he doesn’t know he’s a sheep! And on top of everything we have notice from DEFRA telling us we must all keep our chickens inside due to another outbreak, somewhere in Britain, of avian ‘flu.

But yesterday the sun shone and we opened the great metal door of the donkey shed at last. Mayhem followed! Whoops of joy: the air full of the sound of eeyors, galloping up and down the field, play fights, kicks in the air, joy all round! And, of course, now Tiny Freddie is lame again.

And to add to their entertainment, we have two beautiful visitors for the winter. Two gentle giants, sixteen hands and fifteen two! Tiny Fred and Christos are the biggest donkeys I have ever had and I’ve had many. But these elegant mares look down on them from far above. They live next door in the stables and spend each day in the big field we call Sunday Orchard. A gate and fence keep them separate from the donkeys who look up, wide eyed at these huge new lodgers in their yard.

All this keeps us busy in these strange isolated times. But we are so fortunate to have our fields to walk through and a garden to tend. We live just a mile or so from a quiet village by a beautiful river where we can greet our friends in the distance as we visit the local shop and go to church in our masks.

Christmas was different for us all this year of course. Like so many we could not be with our family. But we were fortunate enough to have four dear friends for Christmas Day supper. I was gifted a goose, a bird I haven’t cooked for years. It was delicious but, oh the goose fat!

We started with a tiny Japanese style dish of smoked salmon and prawns, nori, wasabi, ginger and lightly pickled cucumber and fennel. The goose followed and then a splendid Tarte au Pomme and Crème Chantilly prepared with a certain amount of theatre by a guest! 

Although it looked a big bird, I realised geese have far less meat on them than a turkey or a chicken. So, I decided to hedge my bets and make two stuffings, just in case. But first I removed as much fat as possible from inside the bird and reduced it down slowly in a saucepan. Some I put into jars for future use and some I set aside for the potatoes. There is no doubt that potatoes roasted in goose fat are the best!

Next, I softened some peeled chestnuts and shallots in a little butter and a dash of red wine. I stirred them into sausage meat with plenty of chopped fresh herbs and pepper and salt. This mixture went into the big cavity in the bird. I made a second stuffing with the goose liver, prunes, breadcrumbs and more shallots. I gently eased the skin back from part of the breast and pressed this stuffing a little across the breast then into the neck of the bird drawing the skin underneath and securing it with cocktail sticks.

This done, I pricked the skin of the whole bird with the point of a sharp knife, sprinkled it with plenty of salt and black pepper, but no oil, and cooked it in a fairly hot oven 180/190c allowing roughly twenty-five minutes to the pound.  I was careful to ladle out the fat at regular intervals. Towards the end I checked it with a skewer into the thighs and when the juices ran clear took it out and rested it while I made gravy.

With the bird we had Brussel sprouts with butter and flaked almonds, leeks, carrots and parsnips in a white sauce, those lovely crispy roast potatoes, unsweetened apple sauce and, of course, gravy.

A wonderful evening, a wonderful gift and a feast indeed despite the strange circumstances

Next day the small amount of meat left from the goose found its way into a pie enriched with a little of the stuffing. The rest of the stuffing became delicious rissoles and the carcase made amazing stock promising good soups for some time to come.

Here’s to a better , happier, healthier 2021 the whole world over.

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