the hedgerows are playgrounds | strawberry - rhubarb jam scones

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I joked to my sister the other day that I should write a post about where we live, north Norfolk. Its little quirks. Do it, my sister said, people will find it interesting. It'll be funny, she told me, and your writing is usually so serious. So here starts a humorous tale about every day life in a small village with a thatched church and fields all around. The antagonists are the tractors. I'll start my story with an anecdote about how I'm often on the one-lane road, headed to the highway and I'll be doing 20 miles because I'm behind a tractor carrying hay on the trailer. It'll be far beyond legal weight limits but hey, this is Norfolk, anything goes. The car in front of me will be a black Range Rover, with a personalized number plate, something like HA1 D3R, and it will be the newest model. The driver will be a woman who is bleached blonde and will attempt to overtake the tractor around one of the hairpin bends. She'll be lucky because the traffic on the other lane is probably held up by another rogue AGV.

I'll also write about how we'll be standing on a grassy verge in the village where we live, the leg of my jeans will be soaked from local drainage issues and pressing it against Prune's wet fur to stop her swerving into the road and into the path of another tractor. The tractor will be new and fancy. Farmers do ok here. The roads are already narrow and cars spill out of driveways to park on either side, it'll start to rain, scattered showers, scattered dog walkers. Our house is flanked by forest on one side and a field on the other, where a family keep two horses. I say a family, because we can't really seem to figure out how they're all related, but in north Norfolk villages seem to be made up of a couple of interconnected families. The son (we think he's the son. He could be the brother?) is the local woodcutter with two labradors a bit like ours, a wood pile to rival that of those in northern Utah, and a unimog. When was the last time you saw one of those? He also seemed to have refurbished a Mercedes SUV that his wife likes to drive, off-road style, through the horse fields next door. Maybe it's a way of keeping their two toddlers entertained.

I'll say that the tractors don't stop, the whole year, and the size of their tyres is no joke. I'll recount the time that we were just walking along a genteel country lane, when a pick-up drove out into the middle of a field. We wondered what the driver, a farmer, was doing. He promptly lowered the window of the car, pulled out a rifle and let off a few shots to scare the crows. My heart didn't stop pumping the rest of the day. The car was not further than 25 meters from the road. I'll write as I did before about how people hang pheasants from their rafters, and rabbits from the mirrors of Land Rover Defenders, and about how one of the activities at the local primary school is plucking a pheasant for pheasant pie. My sister had a shock when she walked in to the school one day and found the pile of dead birds by the door. I'll mention that the next village is the winner of RHS Britain in bloom pretty much every year, and that from February onwards as you drive through there are great groups clad in overalls with shovels, preparing the beds and planting seedlings. That the post office is also in that village, owned by a family that everyone knows; it's a local institution. I was standing in line to mail something one day and there was a woman in front of me, collecting a parcel. She was wearing jeans tighter than mine; ankle cropped, with a frayed hem, and fancy Nike hightops, a flowy white blouse and big sunglasses. She was also twice my age (at least) and hugged the man when he served her, then drove off in a white Audi saloon. I tried very hard not to roll my eyes and for my efforts was bumped out of the queue by a man with a bushel of beets in one hand; wearing muddy boots and a deerstalker cap.

But I'll also write about how the kids from the village primary school literally fall out of cars waving to my sister who works there once a week; and little Archie calls from his bedroom window to say hello. There was the time a neighbor came knocking on our door, saying a rooster was in her garden and she was looking for its owner, fearing it would be eaten by a fox. About the elderly farmer with a Norfolk accent so heavy we wonder if he's speaking English (and we doubt he understands us) who stops us to chat and ask about the dogs, then waves from his ancient tractor.  About the bushes that are so heavy with blackberries come late summer the freezer is full the whole year; and the hedgerows that are playgrounds for robins and sparrows.

That there's an older couple with a gentle black Lab who often ask us how our grandparents are doing; they became friends. That in the fall I make applesauce out of apples from our own trees which in spring explode in color, and the roads turn pink from petals. I'll repeat, again, that winter nights are white, that I've never seen more stars in any of the unknown pieces of the wild where I've found myself. That from my bedroom I hear owls call and from in front of a sink filled with dishes I watch a family of blue jays teach their babies to eat from the birdfeeder. That I've seen young pigeons take flight after falling from their nest in a wild Norfolk storm, that the coast around here is one of the rare places that Arctic Terns nest. That someone aptly named it an area of outstanding natural beauty. The silence, early morning and late evening, is so immense it's haunting. I'll be charmed by the beauty in the chaos and the fine layer of red sand that is forever tacked to the bottom of my jeans. 

"And the peace which I always found in the silence and emptiness of the moors filled me utterly" James Herriot, All Creatures Great and Small

Hello there :) Are you seeing an acute case of seasonal fruit fomo in this post? Particularly if I add that I am on an asparagus-for-dinner-bender? It just so happens that I really like strawberries. And rhubarb. And I wait all year for asparagus. Asparagus aside, the former are obviously a classic pairing and since these early season strawberries are not quite the sweetest yet, they work so well in a compote with the sour tang of rhubarb. I call these babies jam scones but they're really just scones with a dollop of compote (which is really easy to make). You can adjust the amount of maple according to the sweetness of your strawbs, using the lesser amount when the berries are really at their sweetest. These scones are not  typical scones - like my other scone recipes, they are more fragile and bread-like than flaky and rich buuuut no need to worry about keeping butter cold or anything like that.  The pastry/scone part is just barely sweet, so feel free to add a fat sprinkle of turbinado before baking and make sure you choose a compote you really like (whether this one or store bought) because that jammy center really sings. The spelt flour makes the pastry mildly nutty, with a little bit of whole-graininess that is so satisfying. They don't really need any shaping or anything, so I hope you try them out this spring :)

Big hugs xx

strawberry - rhubarb jam scones

makes 8 large scones & 2ish cups / 500ml compote

for the strawberry & rhubarb compote (makes one standard mason jar - around 2 cups / 500ml)

450g / 1 pound rhubarb
600g / 1.5 pounds strawberries
1/3 - 1/2 cup (80-120ml) pure maple syrup, depending on preference and your berries
Juice of one large lemon (or around 3 tablespoons natural oj)

for the scones

2 cups (230g) spelt flour, plus a little extra for dusting
1 tablespoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 free range egg
1 tablespoon (20g) honey
2 tablespoons (27g) coconut oil, melted
1/2 cup (120ml) plain yogurt (I used goat yogurt, use what you have)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1/2 cup (8 tablespoons) strawberry and rhubarb jam, or your favourite natural-style jam

// To make the compote

Start by prepping the fruit. Discard the ends of the rhubarb stalks and cut to 2cm / 3/4 inch chunks. Wash and pat dry. Hull your strawberries, curing larger ones in half and leaving smaller ones whole.

Place a large, heavy based pan over medium heat.  Add to it the citrus juice and the washed + diced fruit. Pour the syrup over and stir together with a wooden spoon.

Let the fruit cook for about 20 - 30 minutes over medium-low heat, stirring often and letting it bubble and reduce. Initially it will look VERY watery because the rhubarb is releasing its moisture. Don't be put off, it will suddenly thicken and you'll see the juices really reduce. The time will depend on the juiciness of your berries but look for when the liquid is mostly gone, the fruit it soft and broken down and that it slops off a spoon rather than drizzles (very technical, as ever).

Immediately remove from the heat and pour into a heat safe container. Allow to cool before closing; it will thicken as it cools. Magic. The compote will keep around a week to 10 days in the fridge in an airtight jar.

// for the scones

Preheat the oven to 180'C, 350'F and like a baking sheet with parchment paper. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, salt and baking powder.

In a liquid measuring cup or small bowl, beat together the egg, oil and honey. Whisk in the yogurt and vanilla extract till smooth and pale. 

Draw a little well in your dry ingredients then pour in the wet mix. Stir together gently, but firmly with a wooden spoon. Once the dough becomes to come together (don't overmix), dump it out onto a lightly floured surface and knead to bring it together.

Divide the dough into 8 equal pieces - I used a scale and a bench scraper but you can just eyeball it if you prefer. Shape each piece into a round mound and place evenly spaced on baking sheet.

Dip the back of a  tablespoon measure in flour then press it into the mound of dough to create an indent. Fill the indent with a tablespoon of compote and continue with each scone.

 Bake for 16-19 minutes, till the top of each scone is golden and feels crisp to the touch. Cool on a wire rack, but or enjoy straight from the oven. Cooled and in an airtight container they'll keep well for about 3 days, but will freeze and defrost.

 

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a second black muzzle | Goat yogurt + honey tart

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We had talked for a long time about getting a second dog to keep Prune company. The new dog couldn't be a puppy because we didn't have the time to dedicate to training, but Prune had come to us as a two year old and her breeder sometimes had other girls who were retiring (early) from competitions. That's how little Suzi came to us just after her third birthday. Dual's Hope Lovely Sue, more commonly known to us as Tiny,  Beanie, Little Bean, Small or Snoozie. Because Sue was just too... not her. Lovely, no doubt, but Sue seemed sensible and orthodox, neither of which she is. She's so full of love for life, playfully spirited, cheerful but sensitive. I have always wanted a puppy - like a real, baby puppy, and she acts so much like one. She still mouths my fingers when she's excited, wags her tail in these really short strokes when she sees you coming and is terrible at bringing the ball back when you throw it. It's hard to believe she's five. How did that happen? How do they grow up so fast?

I feel that I have maybe talked disproportionate amounts about Prune and much less about Tiny. Which is something I worry I do quite often.  But she's really found herself a special place in my heart, one way or another. Suzi girl really started life in our family as my sister's dog, I don't know why, but she adopted Layla and became her little pal. Suzi was not in such good shape when she came to us, perhaps being in a multi-dog household hadn't suited her, and she had retreated deep into a shell. Like the earliest of the spring flowers that tentatively bloom, and shrivel back into their buds as the frost hits. But she did settle in. She struggled to understand some things that Prune had grasped really quickly - that it was no big deal when we wiped their paws after walks, that they could sleep anywhere they wanted, that there is always fun food and toys on offer. Suzi just wanted to sleep in her crate, seemed confused to be offered snacks and hated (ok she's not over this one yet) us touching her paws. Slowly things improved, she trusted us, she'd ask for snacks, she'd take a slice of bread outside and lie in the sun with it in her mouth. She has a darling habit of crossing her paws when she lies down and keeping her glossy head held proudly high.  A charming way of nuzzling my legs with a cold nose when I'm wearing gym shorts, an endearing quirk in the how she sneaks under the table and pops her head out when we laugh. When she first arrived she wouldn't even come to us when we held out a hand for her to sniff, and now who manages to curl up in a ball, all 30 kilos of her flopped on my lap when she's in the back seat of the car? Yeah, a fully grown Labrador who thinks she's the size of a Jack Russell. That's my Suzi bean, in a nutshell. 

Before Suzi came I asked myself if I could ever love another dog as much as I loved Prune. With the same, crazy intensity, that meant her happiness was my own. Prune seemed to, figuratively at least, take up all the space in my heart. At first I thought that was that. But it seems like there are more cracks and gaps to hearts than I thought before. Which makes sense, considering all the downs a person goes through. Lots to patch up. It's hard to explain but it's probably a feeling to which parents can relate when a second child is born. Suzi bean came to us for Prune, as a companion for her, and has become so much more. Frosting on the cupcake, a missing piece of a very chaotic puzzle. She took her time to figure out life as a family dog but I can't imagine rides in the car without a second black muzzle peering over the seat and mornings without the sharp slide of her clumsy paws as she stretches.
Happy birthday, my girl. We're crazy about you and I can't believe how far you've come. 

"If I told you a flower blooms in a dark room, would you trust it?"
Kendrick Lamar ft. Drake, Poetic Justice 

I made this tart with Tiny in mind. She must be my dog because she usually adores yogurt, she always the licks the lid of our yogurt pots. What, your dogs don't do that? Anyway a while ago I started buying goat's milk yogurt after reading that the structure of the protein molecules in goat's dairy is such that it's easier to digest. Yogurt was never such an issue but I see a huge difference with goat's milk versus cow's milk... granted, it's not available everywhere, so it's your call.  Either way the bonus is that goat yogurt is easier for pups to digest too. Apparently New Yorkers make goat's milk popsicles for their dogs in summer... so I'm actually not totally alone on this one. You can of course use regular yogurt, and Greek yogurt would probably strain really well. If you're looking to make this dairy free I think that coconut yogurt would be a bit weird here but I've seen this almond milk yogurt making the rounds, if you can find it, it's definitely worth a shot. The filling is based around labneh - strained yogurt that started out in the Middle East but is pretty mainstream now. It's thicker so holds up well, but if you're looking for a super clean cut, freeze the tart for a few hours before you want to serve, and let the tart sit out a bit before slicing. 

Last thing to mention: I used sunflower seeds because they're 100% ok for dogs (most nuts are ok, though macadamias are actually poisonous, as are any rancid nuts) but you can switch in the same amount of any other nut or seed. Same for the oats actually, you can use more nuts if you'd rather. Have fun with it. Eat a slice for breakfast.
Hoping you have a lovely end to your week xx

Ps. I'm not wearing a bathrobe in the photos, the sweater is just fuzzier in real life than it looked online. Just fyi.

Goat yogurt + honey tart

gluten free     //  makes one 6inch/15cm tart, easily doubled for an 8/9 inch tart

For the strained yogurt/labneh

450g / 15oz full fat goat yogurt (or other yogurt ofc)
1/2 teaspoon salt
(you'll also need a fine mesh sieve and a cheesecloth/muslin/thin piece of material)

For the tart

// crust

1/2 cup (50g) rolled oats, gf if necessary
1/2 cup (70g) sunflower seeds (or other nut/seed)
2 tablespoons (30ml) coconut oil, melted
1 tablespoon honey
1-2 tablespoons water, as needed

//filling

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger (optional)
2-3 tablespoons (40-60g) honey, to taste
labneh from 450g yogurt (a bit here or there won't affect the outcome)

//To prepare the yogurt

At least 24 hours before you'd like to make your tart, line a fine mesh sieve with a few pieces of muslin/cheesecloth or a fine sheet of material. Place the sieve over a high sided bowl - it will look like the bowl is way too big, but the height keeps the sieve up.

Stir the salt through your yogurt (it will taste salty if you taste it, that's ok) and then dump all the yogurt into the cheesecloth in the sieve. Cover with a large plate and set in the fridge for at least 24 hours*

When your yogurt is strained, you can spoon it out of the cheesecloth and continue with the recipe or refrigerate it for a few days. The liquid that collects at the bottom of the bowl is whey; you can discard it or (apparently, I've never tried) use it in any baking.

// For the tart

Grease and line a 6 inch/15cm round springform pan (with removable base/sides) with coconut oil. If doubling the recipe, use an 8 inch/20cm pan.

Warm a large pan over medium-high heat and add the oats and seeds/nuts, stirring them around till they are darker in color and smell nutty + fragrant. This should take 5-7 minutes. Slide off the pan, onto a plate to cool.

While the crust things cool you can prepare the filling. Retrieve your strained yogurt from either the cheesecloth or container (if you made it in advance) and add to a medium bowl with the cinnamon and honey. Stir it around so all ingredients are well combined and it's creamy.

Add the cooled oats and nuts/seeds to a food processor and pulse till a coarse meal forms. You can either add the oil, honey and water to the food processor or if your machine is very basic (like mine ha), tip the ground seeds and oats into another bowl and add the oil, honey and water. The dough should come together when you squeeze it.

Pour all the crust things into your prepared pan and spread it into an even layer along the base, using your hands to pack it flat. You can then cover it with your filling, again aiming for some kind of an even layer (an offset spatula is helpful).

You're pretty much done. Let the tart sit in the fridge to set for 24 hours minimum, or more would work too. Depending on how thick your yogurt was after straining, you should be able to release the sides (gently) and slice it with a clean sharp knife. If it's particularly soft, you can freeze if for a bit and it will firm up, but it might turn into a yogurt-frozen cake rather than a frozen-yogurt cake.

In the fridge the tart will keep for about 5 days, again you could freeze it but it may come out a little icy. If sharing with a dog, that's probably not such a problem.

Notes

* You can make the labneh in advance; once it's strained just keep it in an airtight container in the fridge. If you strain it for more than 24ish hours, it will get suuuuper thick, enough so that you can scoop it into chunks to put in salads, like mozzarella / burrata balls. In case you were interested.

the thief that stole our hearts

maybe that's not a bad thing | mocha-chip loaf

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It was my dad's birthday last weekend. He wasn't with us to celebrate, in fact I've not seen him since he was here in December. That was for three days. He was supposed to arrive on his birthday and the next day we were all supposed to leave for France. But my dad had to stay in Mozambique for work, and we left for France without him. Which was hard. Harder for him than for us, in general, because he doesn't change so much, but we do, and he misses that.

It's been a long time since I called him daddy.  I actually don't remember the last time I did. I think sometimes he misses those days - when we were small enough to ride on his shoulders, when we'd grab his hand and pull him places, the days when he would pick us up and pretend to 'drop' us, catching us just before we hit the ground. It's an occupational hazard of being a long-distance dad who spends huge chunks of time away. What he doesn't realize is that he's more or less always 'there'. We talk about him all the time. He's taught us so much. I'm quite sure I am the only girl (or maybe the only person?) doing contract law who has any idea about anything to do with ships - I heard someone asking what the stern of a ship was. I remember last year in class no one knew what it meant for a ship to be 'berthed'. A charterparty? No chance. Grabs? Bulk? No way. Not terms that are plastered all over facebook, not a typical dad-daughter discussion . He's the person who's taught me about hydraulics ('to do with air and water'), that brown bread is always better than white, that cumin should always go with cheese. That the best part of Formula One is when they splash each other with champagne, the best way to take a penalty ('two steps back and one to the side'), that baby birds are always worth saving.

He probably thinks, and you probably think, those are just small things. And maybe they are, but they make a difference, in  a not-so-every-day way. There are people who teach you other things - too many people actually. There's my mum to teach me to read and write and study hard. My dogs, to teach patience, my sister, to laugh. Then there's the internet, instagram, friends, books, who tell you how to eat, what to wear, where to go, how to act. But there's only ever been one person who's told me to take care of my tools, when he's putting away the chainsaw or the hedge trimmer; and I must have the cleanest Vitamix around. One person who's taken a look at my tripod, found that yellow bauble that shows when things are level and said, suspiciously, 'do you know how to use this?'. One person who's helped me to repot my indoor plants, who taught me that every room needs some green. The one person who, when it's supposed to be summer but it's freezing cold and raining and you're wearing shorts and standing with your bike sheltering under a tree by a cemetery, would say 'it's a bit dead around here', totally nonchalantly. 

He doesn't consider himself the teaching sort of person - he tried to teach me to ski, but I ended up with an instructor. Showed us that sometimes you just have to admit defeat, and you'll be better for it. But Layla and I grew up with him more present, and from the small things he did, we learnt. A little bit of discipline, we take care of our equipment. Huge attention to detail, a total love for plants and the smallest animal. We walk past a house where their fence stops short of the hedges by about two meters. That would never have happened with dad, we say, because he'd have measured the fence, or else have gone back to the hardware store and picked up another panel. If you're doing a job, might as well do it right. Wherever we are Layla and I gravitate towards the water. A lake, a river, the sea, we'll be there, if there are boats involved, even better. That's because our dad is the boat person, he's shown us that the best things happen near the water and he's almost never been wrong. Our mum always finds it odd and says 'you take after your dad sometimes'. Maybe we do, and maybe that's a good thing.

Love you dad xx

This is one of the first recipes I wrote with someone in mind. For my dad, who taught me the coffee-chocolate combination. It's a really simple recipe, just a dry mix, a wet mix, dump into the dry bowl, into the pan, a fresh loaf in about 45 minutes. This is a very low-key loaf,  it's more of a breakfast-y or snack-y every day type of cake, which are my favorites. There's not loads of chocolate so it's not super rich, the beautiful dark color is actually just from the espresso, nutty buckwheat flour and dark sugar. Together, they make this loaf look and taste quite special. A note on ingredients - I've made this without almond meal (brown rice flour instead) but I prefer the structure from the nuts. Hazelnut meal would be really nice too, so stick to something nut based if you can. I found that I had no chocolate at all, halfway through baking, but I had some chips lying around so I used those. If you have a chocolate bar, go that route, I always prefer the meltiness to the way that chips hold their shape. 

Here's to every day cake, and a not so every day dad of mine.

mocha - chip loaf

gluten + easily dairy free    //  makes one 9x5 inch loaf

1 cup (100g) almond meal
1/2 cup (50g) oat flour, gf if necessary
1/2 cup (65g) buckwheat flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1 heaped tablespoon espresso powder (or finely ground coffee)
1/4 cup (25g) coconut oil, melted
1/2 cup (120ml) plain yogurt of choice at room temp.
2 free range eggs
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2/3 cup (100g) dark muscavado sugar or coconut sugar*
50g chopped dark chocolate (70% is good) or chocolate chips

Oil & line a 9x5 inch loaf pan and preheat the oven to 180'C, 350'F.

In a large bowl, whisk to combine the flours, baking powder + soda, salt, cinnamon and espresso powder.

In a medium bowl, add the coconut oil, room temperature yogurt, eggs and vanilla and beat together. Add the sugar and beat again so the mix is smooth and dark.

Pour the wet mix into the dry mix and gently stir the batter with a flexible spatula. When it starts to come together, fold in the chocolate. The batter will be very thick.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for about 30-33 minutes. The top of the loaf will crack for sure, but I think that makes it look rustic :)

Let the cake cool in the pan for about 5 minutes, then gently release onto a wire rack and allow to cool completely.

The loaf is quite moist initially but almond meal tends to dry out, so it's best finished in about 3 days. Otherwise, it holds up well frozen + defrosted. 

Notes

*Either type of sugar will work, I've made this loaf several times with both. Dark brown sugar would work too if that's what you have around, but keep the sugar as dark in color as possible.

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