Eggs 5 - Movember

It’s Movember; season of the ‘tash.  Throughout the world hundreds of thousands of men have forsaken the blade and are tolerating an itchy upper lip in order to raise awareness of and money to help fight prostate cancer.  

The rules are simple, start Movember 1st  clean-shaven and then grow a moustache for the entire month.  The moustache becomes the ribbon for men’s health, the means by which awareness and funds are raised for cancers that affect men.  Much like the commitment to run or walk for charity, the men of Movember commit to growing a moustache for 30 days.  The funds raised through Movember’s UK campaign benefit the The Prostate Cancer Charity, the UK’s leading prostate cancer charity.

The eggs, kindly provided by Castel Farm, have been pressed into duty to help with this tonsorial venture, through one of the more satisfying way to raise money; a cake sale. Given the testosterone-bound theme of this challenge these must be manly cakes, bristling with swagger and just a hint of Old Spice.  The John Wayne of the cake domain; the rock cake.

Movember Rock Cakes

Ingredients
200g (8oz) white flour
1 teaspoon of mized spice
100g  (4 oz) butter
gratted lemon rind of 1/2 lemon
100g (4oz) brown sugar
100g (4oz)  mixed dried fruit
1 egg, beaten
1 tablespoon of milk

Method
Pre-heat the oven to 200C / 400F / Gas 6
In a mixing bowl rub the flour, mixed spices and butter together into a crumbly mixture.
Stir in the remaining ingredients well.
Place small dollops of the cake mixture on a greased baking tray.
Bake for 15 to 20 minutes until golden.

For more information on Movember (including ways to donate) and to follow my mustachioed efforts visit http://uk.movember.com/mospace/690216/

Guernsey Camerata - Romantic Masterpieces Concert Review

The Guernsey Camerata’s Romantic Masterpieces concert (kindly sponsored by BWCI) stood, in part, as a celebration of the bicentennial anniversary of Frederic Chopin's birth.  To mark the occasion The Royal Northern College of Music held a Chopin competition; the winner, pianist Ivan Hovorun, getting the opportunity to play in Guernsey with the Camerata.

Hovorun is clearly a Chopin aficionado, visibly entering into an intense relationship with the music from the moment he took his position on the stage.  Throughout the concerto Hovorun roused a distinct personality from the piano, from the sweeping romantic charm of Chopin’s characteristic phrases, to an utterly beguiling series of delicate, little trills lapping up against each other towards the end of the second movement.  

Hovorun and the Guernsey Camerata Orchestra’s performance served as a powerful reminder of the immediacy and compelling nature of live music, demonstrating that each performance is a unique moment of creation and interpretation.  Even the occasional misstep when, in the speed of flight stray finger struck unexpected key, added to the experience.  These are the moments that remind you that performance is an act of creation, rather than formulaic recitation and under the masterly control of conductor John Traill the concerto as a whole pulsed forward.

Despite the focus of the concerto being on the soloist the contribution of the orchestra should not go unnoticed.  Throughout there was a very satisfying interplay between soloist and orchestra, the orchestra providing a well-balanced refrain, taking the motifs created by the piano and quietly playing with them beneath the over-arching canopy created by Hovorun.

Robert Schumann’s Symphony No. 3 in E flat - ‘Rhenish’ Op. 97 formed the second half of Romantic Masterpieces. Composed in 1850 the piece was inspired by a visit to Cologne Cathedral and is influenced by the music of the Rhine valley.  Schumann was municipal music director in Dusseldorf when he wrote the Symphony and the first movement (Lebhaft) was full of confident vigour, built and guided by Traill, who appeared to have a symbiotic relationship with the orchestra, gathering the sound in his arms and offering it upwards in broad, generous gestures.

Each of the Symphony’s five movements had its own distinct identity.  The Scherzo: Sehr massig the air of a calm, meandering river, while the Nicht schnell was slower, demanding great skill and concentration from the strings as the violins mirrored the cellos pizzicato with carefully placed Louré bow strokes.  The forth movement, the Feierlich, was written after Schumann witnessed the Archbishop’s elevation to Cardinal at Cologne and the music chilled with its sense of restrained power, building to a series of brass fanfares that held forth the power and mystery of the church.

The final movement (Lebhaft) switched back to the irrepressible spirit of the first movement, almost as if Schumann could no longer restrain himself after the solemnity of the Feierlich.  Staggering volleys of horn fanfares rocked through the concert hall, while a trilling motif was passed amongst the orchestra, as surreptitiously as a note in class.  

Throughout the evening the whole orchestra not just playing tightly, but with a mastery that comes from experience and confidence in its combined abilities.  It is easy to see why an opportunity to perform with the Guernsey Camerata now attracts national attention.

Over Egged - Pickled Eggs

“Coldtonguecoldhamcoldbeefpickledgherkinssaladfrenchrollscressandwidgespottedmeatgingerbeerlemonadesodawater...” Rattie's uber-picnic from Kenneth Graham's Wind in the Willows has always stood for me as the picnic by which all other hampers are judged. But not an egg in sight! As mole might say, one small omission, dear Rattie. Couldn't the whiskery oarsman have stretched to a pickled egg?

Pickles; the coyest of foods, Spinsters of the store cupboard, hugging the back corner, frumpily dressed in dusty jars. Little suggests what will follow the seditious hiss as a bottle's seal finally gives under the pressure of glutinous fingers; the tang of acerbic onions, last year's windfalls transformed into syrupy chutney, alchemy within a jar.

As the first apples tumble turfward we ferret out the Big Pan and fill the street with heady clouds of hot vinegar, crushed cardomen pods, sugar and cinnamon. Anything left from the Summer's crop hits the pot. This year our chutneys & pickles have added pep, as we've cracked the art of chilli growing.  After several years of mouldering thanklessly in a pot on the patio we moved our chilli plants indoors into the warmest room in the house, the bathroom.  A window seat is now festooned with  cayenne and birds eye chillies, quietly bruising red amid clouds of steam and shaving foam.

Sceptical at first about the virtues of pickled eggs I am now a passionate convert.  Uncouth fiery orbs of peppery heat these are the morsels Weasel & Co. would have bought to the riverside banquet, destine to curl the hair on Rattie’s chest and make Mole whimper with delight.  Resist the urge to nibble for a couple of weeks and let the eggs steep in the pickling liquor.  Kept in the fridge they should last for up to a year.

Wicked Weasel's Pickled Eggs    

Ingredients

6 - 8 eggs
700 ml (1 1/4 pint) white wine vinegar
4 teaspoons salt
3 teaspoons cayenne pepper
6 cloves of garlic, peeled
12 peppercorns
1 1/2 teaspoons of ground allspice
2 teaspoons mustard seeds
4 cloves
2 bay leaves
2 whole chillies

Method
Simmer the eggs for 3 minutes in boiling water, then drain and transfer the eggs straight to a bowl of cold water.

Once cool peel the eggs and place carefully in a large, sterile pickling jar.

Bring all the other ingredients to the boil in a large pan, simmer for five minutes and then turn the heat off and leave the liquor to stew for at least 2 hours.

Put the mixture back on the heat.  Once boiling again carefully ladle over the eggs, ensuring all the eggs are covered, before wiping and sealing the jar.

Allow to cool and keep in the fridge.

Over Egged - Meringues

Meringues are one of the few egg based foodstuffs that have successfully penetrated my egg aversion.  Like all good food, the taste of a meringue is peppered with memories.  There was the drive along pockmarked country roads in a car stuffed with 85 of my mother-in-law's pristine meringues, to be delivered in mint condition at a wedding reception.  Or the small stall tucked away in a St. Peter's hedge, stuffed with bags of freshly baked meringues.  A sugary trail of white dust followed us for the rest of that afternoon's ramble.  But only when 6 eggs began dutifully appearing on my doorstep each week from Castel Farm did it occur to me to try making a meringue myself.

Meringue alone is incomplete, though.   Meringue needs fruit.  Served brimming with strawberries, or stained by a raspberry coolie, or nestled in a hook of melon; the slightly acidic tang of fruit parries deftly with the sweetness of the meringue.  We stumbled upon growing soft fruit by accident and it is testament to the resilience of our plants, rather than our skill, that we get any crop at all.  We inherited a patch of autumn-fruiting raspberry canes which, despite their name, produce two loads of fruit a year, a first batch in early Summer and a second serving in Autumn.  Having left them to their own devices for the past few years, last autumn we got busy with the secateurs and, following advice from the RHS website, pruned the canes down to ground level.  Painful though the buzz-cut canes looked, they have rallied and are once again producing fruit.  

Our poor strawberry plants could probably apply for a restraining order against us, having spent two miserable years mouldering in an overshadowed grow-bag in our back yard.  In February I had the bright idea that the strawberries might be happier in the allotment.  Never the best plan to move grow-bags after a solid week of rain, but after much muttering and dark chuntering we eased the benighted plants into trenches filled with well-rotted horse dung.  Covered with chicken wire and guarded with old CDs dangled from string our strawberries clearly appreciated being sworn at and being left in poo, as they're now pumping out berries by the punnet load.  

Meringue Morsels

I've borrowed this recipe from my mother, who had the inspired idea of adding the rose water.  The rosewater adds a heady scent of the Orient to these morsels, perfect for a warm, hazy evening in the back yard.   

 

Makes 16                                           

 

Ingredients                                               

2 large free-range egg whites                       

100g caster sugar

½  tablespoon icing sugar

150ml double cream

1 tablespoon of rose water

 

Method

Preheat the oven to 130°C/250°F. 

Line a large baking tray with baking paper. 

Break the eggs and separate the whites into a large bowl. 

Whisk the whites until they stiffen. 

 

Gradually whisk in the caster sugar, a tablespoonful at a time, until it is completely incorporated

Spoon the meringue mixture inside a piping bag fitted with a large nozzle.
Pipe 32 small meringues onto the baking paper. 

Put meringues in the centre of the oven and immediately reduce the temperature to IOO°C/225°F,. 

Bake for 2 hours until crisp but not coloured. 

Turn off the oven and leave to cool. 

 

Shortly before you are ready to unveil your meringues sift the icing sugar over the cream, stir in the rosewater and whip into stiff peaks. 

Taking two meringues put a dolop of cream on the underside of one and sandwich against the bottom of the second.   

 

Serve on a platter with a glass of something chilled, pink & bubbly.  If you are serving the meringues with strawberries try adding a bit of freshly torn basil for extra zing.

Over Egged - eggs & artichokes

Recently my partner won a wonderful thing, a year’s supply of organic eggs from Castel Farm. 6 eggs, every week for a year. 312 eggs. Wonderful for those who like eggs. I, however, don’t. It’s not a medical allergy, just a pathological aversion.

Clearly I’m going to have to challenge my petulant distain for the egg and embrace this as a culinary opportunity. It'll be good for me. I'd like to share the experience, though. Maybe not every soldier dunked and omelette flipped, but the highlights, the meringue islands floating giddily by, the frittatas packed with fresh veg’. The moments that convert me. One man and 312 eggs.

To aid me on this task I'm going to plunder the garden and hedgerows, allotment and sea for ingredients. These tawny shelled marvels demand decent ingredients. Whether they are playing a supporting bass note or the headline aria in a dish, I want these eggs to be married with the best local produce I can find.

Garlic, artichoke & eggs We claim no gardening expertise. As well as an account of my efforts to love the egg, this is also a record of our efforts to encourage edible stuff to grow. This year, through iffy planning, we've managed to extend the 'hunger gap', the period of time when the Winter crop has been eaten and the Summer veg has yet to come. The purple sprouting has given up its tight buds to exuberant yellow flowers, the kale has gone leggy and the cabbages have been finished off by slugs, wood pigeons and, occasionally, us. Broad beans may be swelling in pods, sweet corn stalks unfurling and runner beans scrambling up canes, but there is nothing yet to eat, bar garlic and artichokes.

The garlic is a wilted, leek rust scarred remnant of its former winter glory. Beneath the soil, though, nestle small, pungent white bullets, a crop perfect for using fresh, or 'wet'.

Our artichoke plants are glorious. Kindly given to us as cuttings by a fellow allotmenteer, the plants now tower over our small plot. Fat, succulent leaves sprawl out beneath thick stems that punch fist sized artichokes into the sky. We closely monitor the buds, as artichokes are best eaten as their lower petals start to open,
before the plant gets a chance to open thistle like flowers.

Garlic egg mayonnaise and whole artichokes The artichokes take a little prepping. Ours have become home to thousands of aphids, farmed by an attending multitude of ants. To purge the insects it is necessary to give
the artichokes a good soak in salted water. Rinse and repeat until the black bug slick dissipates.

Bring a large pan of salted water to the bowl and get a bowl of water with a squeeze of lemon in ready to drop the artichokes in as you prepare them. Slice away the top quarter of each artichoke and cut its stalk off close to the base. Put the artichokes into the pan, along with a squeeze of lemon and boil for 20 – 40 minutes, until the base is tender to a knife and the lower petals pull easily away. Drain, shake and serve.

While the artichokes soften you can whip up this quick mayonnaise. A silky, seductive concoction that appeals even to an egg adverse chap like me, this is ideal for dipping the artichoke’s tender petals in before stripping off the flesh with your teeth. All that is required is a strong whipping arm and patience.

The luxuriousness of the mayo soon quelled any residual reservations about eating raw egg. After an indulgent few minutes deconstructing the artichokes our table was strewn with chewed leaves and splashes of mayonnaise; I may yet be converted to the egg.

Egg Mayonnaise

300 ml good quality extra virgin olive oil
1 small garlic clove, crushed
2 large egg yolks
Squeeze of lemon
Handful of chopped dill
Salt
Pepper

Method
• Add the crushed garlic to the egg yolks in a large bowl
• Whisk in half a teaspoon of the oil to the eggs and garlic
• Continue whisking, adding small amounts of oil as you go, ensuring the
mixture retains a thick consistency
• Add the dill and lemon when all the oil has been added and the mixture
has become glossy and wobbly
• Add salt and pepper to taste, giving the mayonnaise one final beating

Store in a screw-top jar in the bottom of the fridge for no longer than a week

Guernsey Symphony Orchestra - Summer Serenade Concert Review

I must confess a certain trepidation as I settled down in St. James to listen to the Guernsey Symphony Orchestra’s ‘Summer Serenade’ concert, kindly sponsored by Credit Suisse, on Saturday 10th July 2010. More familiar with choral music I rather expected something serious, highbrow and altogether difficult. Igor Stravinsky’s playful and mischievous Ballet Jeu de Cartes tore the first strip off my misconceptions. Written in 1936 and first performed by the American Ballet the three movements of the ballet mirror a game of cards, each movement representing a deal.

A ballet without dancers is an unusual concept, but one which the Guernsey Symphony Orchestra made quite enthralling. From the wilful cacophony of the Joker’s dance in the first movement, smashing through the tranquil flute solo. the stately entrance of the four Queens in the second deal and the final battle between the Joker and the Hearts in the third movement, Ballet Jeu de Cartes quivered with dramatic energy.

Harp soloist Lucy Wakeford joined the orchestra to perform Joaquin Rodrigo’s Concierto Serenata for harp and orchestra. Evocative of a Spanish fiesta, Rodrigo stated that he wanted “to make the entire work light, clear and joyful, like the harp’s child-like soul”. This compelling piece certainly displayed the versatility and range of the harp. While the harp is well known for its poise and delicacy, it was a revelation to hear the strength and depth of sound produced by Wakefield. This was particularly apparent during the extended and sumptuous harp solo in the first movement. Throughout the whole Concierto guest conductor Richard Balcombe kept a careful balance between the harp and orchestra; ensuring that at no point did the orchestra threaten to overwhelm the harp, but that the music instead ebbed and flowed, as the theme passed between the orchestra and harp.

Antonin Dvorak’s Symphony No. 8 in G major, op. 88, which comprised the entirety of the concert’s second half, was stunning. The Guernsey Symphony Orchestra’s performance gave an invigorating immediacy and freshness to Dvorak’s familiar themes. The orchestra, moving as one coherent unit, clearly enjoyed playing the symphony. Vividly evocative of 19th century Eastern Europe, the whole orchestra demonstrated a complex understanding of the dramatic, as well as technical, demands of the work. For example, the first violins led by Roger Coull seemed physically entwined in the music, leaning into the rhythm of the seductive waltz that introduced the third movement, while the fourth movement featured a fascinating, rapid ascent of strings and flute, like the wind ripping though treetops, which was countered by a dominate volley from the brass.

Maybe it is the passion of a convert, but I really feel unable to do justice to the Guernsey Symphony Orchestra. My only advice is, should the opportunity arise to hear them play, go. Drop whatever you are doing and go. They bring music to life and recreate it for the 21st century. They work magic.

All Things Green: Thursday 27 May 2010

Bought 2 trays of sweetcorn and 1 basil plant from Mr Falla's, followed by a quick detour around Earlswood for a couple of in-door pots.

Stopped by the allotment to check everything following Wednesday's heavy rain.  A sustained watering has transformed the plot.  Beetroot and Parsnips looking a lot hardier now, while the artichokes have set two crowns and the strawberries are firming up.  On Sunday we'll need to tackle the grass and weeds again, as well as plant out the sweetcorn and squash plants. As the ground was still good & moist I shovelled on a good layer of well rotted (& worm invested) bark mulch around the celeriac  seedlings.

Back at home the basil and chilli plants got potted up and strategically positioned in sunny window sills.

All Things Green: Thursday 27 May 2010

The Guernsey Choral & Orchestral Society - Christmas Concert Review 2009

It's no simple task to do justice to The Guernsey Choral & Orchestral Society's Christmas concert, kindly sponsored by DHL Express, in 500 words. The concert has long been more than simply a concert; it is a local event that stands for many as a marker for the start of the holiday season. Just as Christmas is itself replete with traditions, the GCOS Christmas concert has its own set of customs and rituals, from the impromptu visit by St. Nic, to the choir and orchestra’s donning of party hats and unleashing of poppers during the final carol. Above all else, the Guernsey Choral & Orchestral Society's Christmas concert can be relied on to draw on seasonal music both classic and contemporary, both uplifting and reflective.

The first half of the concert was devoted to excerpts from J.S. Bach's Christmas Oratorio, a piece that alternates between joyous, fulsome chorales and elegant, poised arias. The choir showed considerable technical skill during the fugue sections of the chorales, each vocal part retaining definition and clarity, whilst the choir moved forward at speed as a coherent whole. Soprano soloist, Tina James, joined a smaller chamber orchestra to deliver two wonderfully delicate, sumptuous arias. Mention also needs to be made of the Orchestra's Sinfonia, which included an utterly beguiling trio from the oboes; notes twisting and dipping over each other. Despite the refined, classical nature of the Oratorio the festive spirit was retained throughout, the choir's spirited call for the audience to 'come now with gladness and welcome the morrow' energising and preparing the audience for the rest of the evening.

An infectious air of impish fun crackled throughout the concert's second half, opening with the Orchestra's rendition of Philip Lane's Overture on French Carols. Written in 2001, after Lane heard carols being played over loudspeakers in a shopping centre at Christmas time, the overture was reminiscent of a classic Disney soundtrack, comfortingly familiar, yet with a hint of magic and mischief abounding through the querulous piccolos, spiky strings and rumbustious brass.

As the second half unfolded I started to take on the transfixed grin of a small child, musical treats piling around me.

As is traditional the second half featured several carols performed by The Music Centre Choirs. Conducted by Jeanette Elder the choirs performed to a staggeringly high standard, delivering several pitch perfect, crystal clear, a capella carols from memory, before joining forces with The Choral Society to perform The Holly and the Ivy (arranged by H. Walford Davies). Interspersed with several assured solos from Choral Society and Music Centre singers, both choirs demonstrated considerable skill as they repeatedly and confidently switched between staccato, off-tempo choral singing, to luxurious, emotive swells during the choruses.

The tenor soloist, Michael Sproule, resplendent in red waistcoat and top hat, joined the two choirs to lead The Virgin Mary had a Baby Boy, arranged by Peter Breiner. Sproule was backed by the choirs in powerful gospel mode and an attention grabbing brass section in this piece full of dramatic Louisiana blues swagger.

The Twelve gifts of Christmas by Jeff Tyzik surely deserves to be added to The Guernsey Choral & Orchestral Society's Christmas Concert canon. It was exuberantly wonderful. An inspired reworking of the more familiar Twelve Days of Christmas, the 'gifts' are the sections of the Orchestra, each playing an excerpt from a recognisable classic, such as Beethoven's Fifth or Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker. From the shifts in tempo and key as the Orchestra moved seamlessly between musical styles, to the virtuoso story telling of soloist, Michael Sproule, the whole piece left me smiling at its sheer chutzpah and deeply impressed as to how conductor Jean Owen kept tight control throughout.

Woven throughout the second half of the concert were carols performed by the Choral Society. From the fragile, almost intangible humming at the start of Brahms' Wiegenlied (arranged by Richard Phillips), to the truculent exuberance of We Wish You a Merry Christmas (arranged by Warrell) each of these pieces delivered, both emotionally and technically; not least because the close reciprocal relationship between the choir and its conductor, Helen Grand, meant that at times they almost appeared to move as one entity.

Mention should also be made of those carols where the audience (intentionally) joined in. All too often these interludes, where rusty reticence meets well-practised wassailing, are treated as necessary asides. Not so in this concert! Suffice to say, there is nothing quite like hitting the top note of Hark! The Herald Angels Sing as the whole of St. James's rises up and the brass section unleashes its full might.

As the final streamer fell to drape the bell of a French horn, a small voice murmured in my ear, "Best Choral Society concert yet". That's a wrap in 5 words.