two hungry bees

Just a tiny word about the most delicious Vietnamese meal.  Saturday night saw me at the Hill Station Cafe, attending a pop up evening hosted by Two Hungry Bees (find out about them on Twitter as @twohungreybees).  I have walked past the Hill Station many times and, day or night, it is always inviting, buzzing with activity.  But each time I walk on and think 'soon! Another time'.

But back to the food.  I had that wonderful experience - rare as an adult - of tasting new flavours and ingredients.  An inauspicious nettle-looking leaf with a very distinctive flavour (Red Perilla) was beneath some shredded salad; we wrapped it all up in the leaf and dunked it in the dipping sauce.  Heaven!  Later, making our own summer rolls I found the pretty 'heartleaf' to add in with the salad.

New, too, were combinations of flavours, which made me completely redress the way I look at some very ordinary ingredients.  Zinging herbs, chilli, lime, noodles - all turned into something quite new when put together.  I have no idea what is in it, but always, always I love the thin, astringent dipping sauce for spring and summer rolls.  New to me too was the rice pancake we wrapped the summer roll in, with its improbable thin, brittle texture transforming into sticky cling film, in which to envelop a modest few items.  Rice pancake and vegetables with a few flakes of salmon somehow transformed into the most fresh, flavourful mouthfuls. The stock to make Pho is a mystery to me - and can stay that way, as long as I can get to Mo Pho or the Two Hungry Bees market stall once in a while!

But most of all that evening, I enjoyed the warmth.  Our hosts talked about their family food and demonstrated how dishes are usually eaten.  From this lovely, intimate presentation, to the welcoming people I sat with who shared their evening with me, to the pretty Cafe itself, which always exudes laughter.  Only this time, I was on the inside.

three colours hungry

Beet red
Brockley market's second birthday was a wonderful thing to behold! Heaps of stalls, many customers and more goodwill than you could shake an organic cabbage at.  I had a dark fluid coffee as an especial treat to myself, and then got two bunches of beets and a big head of celery for four quids.  Not a big haul, but then it is the end of the month, my traditional time for scraping the bottom of the barrel.  And anyway I find a particular pleasure in making the most of modest things.

On Sunday evening, as I was pottering around pulling weeds from the patio, picking tomatoes and trimming an unhappy geranium, my beets were being roasted into this happy dish.  Lovely sweet carrots and beetroot, with onion, garlic, potato and celery; roasted for 45 minutes, then draped with fat slices of salty halloumi and given another 10 minutes in the oven to turn good.  Hearty, warming, carb-heavy.  And I had a leftover glass of wine to indulge in, too.


Blackberry blue
Sunday lunchtime saw me furtively stalking in the bushes of Brockley / Ladywell cemetery.  To be more precise, I was astonished at the amount of bushes that had turned into brambles and, therefore, were proffering up bright berries.  The sort of 'astonished' that led me to arrive with a plastic tub, ready for collecting fruit in, though...

It felt wrong, wrong, wrong to be berrying amongst the dead, however if the dearly departed are of as one mind with me, then I'd say a berry gone to waste is a sorry thing.  There were loads, to the point that many were going mouldy on the branches: I certainly wasn't depriving the birds of snacks.  The fruit are very nearly over, many being over-ripe and mushy, however I was selective and collected around half a kilogram which is perfect for the blackberry clafoutis I made recently and have declared a winner.  The berries are in the freezer, awaiting someone to help me eat the clafoutis!


Carte blanche white
Finally in my frugal trio, we see those three blackening bananas on my kitchen counter get their comeuppance. Yes, banana bread AGAIN.  This year I have mostly been using a Mary Berry recipe from a book I can only assume my Mother gave me.  Mrs I. adores Mary Berry.  Having recently seen an episode of 'British Bake off', I myself am now also a staunch supporter of both her baking and fashion sense.  Anyway, feeling heady and reckless after this weekend's adventures, I gave myself carte blanche to fiddle with the recipe.  Not to improve it, but because I found a pack of poppy seeds which I felt would cheer things along, and also because ground almonds feel positively healthy, as well as adding wonderful moistness.  Instead of the usual 225g flour then, I used 50g ground almonds, 20g poppy seeds and 175g flour.

NOTE TO SELF: I always have to look this up, so maybe writing a note here will help.  Self raising flour =150g flour plus 2 tsp baking powder.  I never have self-raising flour in the house and end up guessing.

I also finally trusted to the instruction, which is to put everything into a bowl 'and beat'.  I always follow the sponge method of creaming butter and sugar, adding eggs etc. etc.  But my gorgeous KitchenAid mixer was making eyes at me so I let her do the work whilst I washed up.

I can't wait for breakfast tomorrow: my coffee pot sits ready, next to the cake.

Lambgate

Melly Bo and Phil ventured all the way to south London, for a First Day of The End Of The Summer lamb roast. I chose a lamb shoulder - my resolute favourite cut - and made a lamb roast which started life as Hugh's weeping whatsit and has since morphed, as all dishes do, to suit my natural leanings. Despite this, still bluddy yums.  The company was even more delicious than the lamb, and the food warmed our souls and made autumn seem a cosy prospect. 

The next night I was out at my local community choir, which was such fun I am tempted to ramble on about that instead of food. Even the bit where, on the walk home I made a voice memo of a song, accidentally pressing the 'start' button only when complete, then recorded 18 minutes and 26 seconds of the inside of my pocket. Technical dunce!

I finally arrived home at 9.30, ravenous: what to eat?

Out came the brown dish and in went all the left over roast veggies, new potatoes and the fattiest chunks of lamb.  After15 mins in an un-pre-heated oven optimistically set to 200 degrees, with wine and 'Girls' on the go, I could bear it no longer and tucked in.  But not without a photo for posterity: you know me. 

The flavours had become more intense, and this was even more wonderful than the original roast.  How I love left-overs!

Sunday brekker, cordial and a ripe tomato

In which I rise late, have a good breakfast and pick the first ripe tomato from my plants.

Fit the first: Rosie's elderflower cordial.

Just look at that heavenly, homely little bottle.  Gorgeous. It wins on looks alone and yet, and yet, it actually tastes better than it looks!  Lovely with a lemon-ice-slice (TM): this is KK's invention to make the most of lemons that are leaving youth behind, and with no immediate use for them.  Slice, bag and freeze.  Lovely in gin or just with cold water and mint.


Fit the second: late breakfast.

Discerning chums of mine were surprisingly vehement in their opinion of Nigella's 'Eggs in purgatory'. Runny egg and tomato appear to be a controversial combination. Yet an irresistible dip into Malcom Eggs' 'The breakfast bible' reignited my curiosity.  I was agog over some Middle Eastern breakfasts, and when I saw sumac, my new and undiminished crush, I knew I had to give this combination a second chance.  I didn't follow the actual recipe, which I quite forget now, but instead took a scratched milk pan and fried some halved tomatoes.  When soft and crisp in the right places, I made little gaps in which to crack eggs.  A little sumac storm later, I piled it all out onto some buttered toast.  And dang me if it wasn't just really lovely.  A little heartburn-ey, I'll warrant, but I was feeling manful.
 

Fit the third: just look at that tomato. Either fully embarrassed or trying to be individual; either way I hope it is a fashion the others follow.