That’s what happened one day when I was having a coffee and taking a break from work – I thought I’d look at Katie’s Cosy, delicious and see what she was up to. Her latest post was Watermelon and Basil Martini… intrigued, I read on. It sounded great! She had infused some vodka with basil and made a mixer with fresh watermelon juice.

Thing is, I didn’t have any watermelon and I’m sure that the watermelons Katie gets in the States will be much sweeter and fresher than anything we could get here in England… but it left me thinking.

I had lots of basil so I could try infusing the vodka anyway (after all, I made the old favourites Toffee Vodka and a Coffee Liqueur just before Christmas last year) and whatever you do with vodka and an infusion has to be fun….

In my pot on the balcony, high above the rest of the city, I had Sweet Basil and Greek Basil growing   – and as the weather was turning cooler and autumn was on its way, I really should get it used up.

I thought I would try with both kinds of basil to see what it was like.

Katie said she had used 2 cups of basil to 4 cups of vodka

So twice as much vodka as basil was poured into my large storage jar and it was put into the larder to keep it in the dark for a day or two. Two days is the maximum but check it to see how it is doing.

Now, as I didn’t have lovely watermelons, I started to think of what else I would put with the basil vodka when it was ready.

And what came to mind was basil’s perfect partner – tomatoes……

…………………… but not that thick and gloopy tomato juice you make a Bloody Mary with, no, I wanted a pure, clear, almost sweet, essence of tomato juice.

It would be like my favourite salad in a martini glass!

I had some beautiful tomatoes that I knew tasted delicious. I’d read about people making clear tomato juice by straining the tomatoes to get just the juice and none of the pulp. That was what I wanted… just translucently clear, pink, sweet tomato juice.

To make it, I’d need a sieve, some muslin and a jug to catch the strained juices.

Lining the sieve means you keep more of the pulp out of the way and allows the pure juice to drip through.

I chopped the tomatoes roughly and gave them a little squeeze as I put them in the lined sieve.

And watched as the pink juice dripped through.

It really was a beautiful, bright pink.

I squeezed the cloth to get more juice out but what that did was thicken the juice. I’d have to strain it again….

I used a coffee filter paper this time and poured the juice into that.

The juice looked almost clear and I wanted this to be the most delicately coloured drink imagineable.

I got the jar with basil infusing in vodka out of the dark cupboard – it had been in there for 36 hours and, when I checked it, the vodka had been tinted by the basil leaves and it smelt delicious. It had a softly sweet smell of basil – not harsh, just sweet and fresh smelling.

All I had to do to that was pour it out of the jar through a sieve to get the leaves out.

See how pretty that looks!

What I imagined would be the perfect cocktail had to have the perfect glass. I had just the thing. An old, handblown glass with intriguing bobbles on it. It’s been one of my favourite glasses for years, ever since I was given it by an old friend. I have no idea how old the glass is or where it came from originally but I love it.

A measure of the delicately tinted basil vodka was poured over the ice.

The sweet, clear tomato essence was added

And as a finishing touch? Tiny Tomberries (the smallest, sweetest tomatoes there are) and a baby leaf of basil were speared with a cocktail stick

And what was it like?

It was delicious. It was sweet and aromatic with the most subtle flavour of basil – not overwhelming at all.

It was the essence of summer in a cocktail.

I had one… the Bear had one and we agreed this was possibly the most delicious drink there ever was. Every sip was perfect.

I’m going to make this again and again and perhaps when I next serve a tomato and basil salad I will make this and serve it alongside to highlight their pure, sweet and aromatic flavours.

You really have no idea how much this cocktail pleases me… I suppose, all I can say is have a go yourself.

And cheers!

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I thought first of all that  would just have cheese and crackers but when I got in, I discovered I didn’t even have any cheese, never mind crackers. I would have to see what there was…..

I did find some tomatoes that the Bear had brought back from his Dad’s greenhouse and a head of garlic. The tomatoes were going a bit wrinkly but at least that meant they had ripened.

I’d previously opened a tin of anchovy style sprats (the famous Ikea sweet sprats (essential for Jannson’s temptation, possibly the world’s most succulently decadent comfort food) and had some left over

They had to be used up

And I had some spaghetti.

I had enough for a feast! I set the water to boil and then added the spaghetti.

While the water was heating I chopped the tomatoes and chopped in a dried chilli

Quickly fried them together

Stirred in the remaining anchovies

And then realised that there was the remnants of a pot of cream waiting to be used… would it work?

I often eat chilli, tomato and anchovy over spaghetti, but tonight I felt I needed something a little richer, a little bit more comforting. Cream would help, surely?

I stirred it in……it tasted delicious. Probably beyond delicious. It was a gorgeous mix of sweetness, heat and salt, all softened by the addition of cream which made it into a lovely smoothly rich sauce.

Tossed over the spaghetti it was just what I needed. It was rich and satisfying and, unbelievably, made from scraps.

And all it took was maybe 15 minutes.

Do you know, that was better than anything I could have ordered from that fancy restaurant.

Another Meatfree Monday success!

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 Keats, in his ode “To Autumn” called this the “season of mists and mellow fruitfulness”  and he was right. The apple trees are bending under the weight of the apples and this morning, the first of the real autumn mists filled the valley below us. What might have seemed boring and irrelevant to our teenaged minds is now appreciated and I found myself reciting the ode as I made coffee for breakfast and gazed out of the window.

Mists certainly… mellow fruitfulness? Yes. We still had such a lot of apples from our brief foraging trip and I needed to use them.

I was going to be cooking a meal that evening for a visitor from South Africa and another colleague. It wasn’t going to be a fancy dinner but it had to be good. I wanted to show what traditional British cooking was like and prove that it is delicious. What better for dessert, I thought, than Apple Crumble? Perfectly British and perfectly delicious.

Last time I made crumble, I made Toffee Apple Crumble and it was delicious – the addition of fudge made an ordinary apple crumble something special. This time, I thought, I would use fudge again but also add the Apple Butter I made at the weekend. That would add in another layer of appley lusciousness to the crumble…..

So, I got in from work and peeled some apples. Normally I use good sized apples and allow one per person. That normally works out about right.

These were my foraged apples – not quite so big as ones from a managed orchard, so I decided 6 would do. Also, I am rather greedy and I was hoping for leftovers the next day.

Peeled, cored and chopped, I put them in a large baking dish and sprinkled the juice of half a lemon over the bits to stop them getting too brown.

A sprinkling of golden granulated sugar over the top would balance things nicely and help make delicious juices (and I do mean, by the way, just a sprinkling. More sweetness will come from the fudge)

The fudge needed to be cut up too…

And the apple butter I made? Look how it has set… it can be cut into slices, just like real butter. Apple butter is just apples cooked slowly until their natural sugars caramelise, which is why it is a deep golden brown, and spices (cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg and cloves) stirred in and cooked with the apples.

I layered some slices over the apple, knowing that when everything baked, the apple butter would melt over the apple pieces and that lovely spiced apple mix would be perfect in the crumble.

Next, the fudge pieces were scattered over the top.

The crumble mix is simplicity itself – 300g of plain flour, 200g of sugar and 175g of butter.

Making the crumble topping is really easy – just rub the mix through your fingers until it resembles breadcrumbs. It doesn’t take long.

Then scatter the crumble mix over the prepared fruit and fudge.

Don’t pack it down, just shake the bowl from side to let the crumbs settle round the fruit, fudge and apple butter.

And then all you have to do is put it in the oven at 180 degrees C/350 degrees F for 40 minutes or so.

Oh, the smell of it as it cooked – there was the sweet buttery smell of the crumble itself and the sharpness of the apples and the spicy mix of cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves and ginger from the apple butter.

And what was it like?

It was lovely. So lovely I forgot to take a picture of it as it came out of the oven. I just dug into it and served it up.

Served with a great dollop of extra thick double cream.

It was eaten and seconds were requested. Our South African friend said she had not wanted to go home without trying a hot English pudding, so that was good. I suppose our traditional hot puddings are famous, and rightly so.

It was a perfect pudding, it really was. Toffee Apple Crumble was excellent but adding Apple Butter as well? That made it truly delicious.

And there are no leftovers.

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But there’s so many of them! And no one is doing anything with them. What a waste! Mind you, it’s thinking of things to do with this huge crop……

Today’s apples, I decided, were going to be made into apple butter.

I’d read about this for years but not really explored what it was. I had a half notion it was apples and butter (which sound rather nice, actually) but when I started searching, I discovered that it was just apples, spices and a little bit of sugar, boiled down and thickened during the long slow cooking to make a preserved apple spread. It spreads, apparently, like butter when it is done, which is how it got its name. Wikipedia explained a bit more, as did Charles, a friend in America, who told me that his father -in- law and the rest of his townsfolk gather to make apple butter in huge quantities in the town square. The smell is amazing, apparently, spreading out from the town square. Historically the idea came from Europe and was taken to America by immigrants and it is mainly in America that it is made now.

Well, it is going to be made in Nottingham today. I have fruit (plenty of fruit) and time to do it. All it takes is apples and spices. Something that we can have on toast, or cook with later in the year when all the apples have either fallen or rotted. Something healthy and tasty. A dairy free spread from free fruit? Sounds good, doesn’t it?

It is simplicity itself. All you have to do is quarter the apples, leaving the skin on and the core in – this will add pectin to the apples and help it set. Only cut out and damaged bits of apple and do remove any spiders or caterpillars that you may  have brought home with you.

There were about 3 lbs of apples in my large pan and I poured in a cup of water to help them cook down. In the long slow cooking that follows the water will evaporate. Some recipes says use a cup of cider vinegar as it adds a tang to the end product but I didn’t have any, so water it was.

The apples started to cook very quickly – maybe a couple of minutes and you could see them soften. It is important to keep stirring so they don’t burn.

After about 15 minutes or so, the apples had reduced to a soft mush, like apple sauce.

One of the things I was given from my aunt’s house was a Mouli food mill which is ideal for this next bit.

As you have cooked the skin, the core and the pips as well as the apple, you need to get the bits out and just have the smooth cooked apple left to transform into the apple butter. I used the finest plate and started to mill the apple puree.

If you haven’t got a  Mouli then you can do this next bit by pushing the fruit through a sieve. The Mouli is quick, though, so it could be a good thing to buy.

You can see how smooth the milled apple is and all the hard bits are left behind.

A beautiful, smooth apple puree.

I tasted the apple and it was sweetly appleish but quite sharp so 1 cup of sugar was added and stirred in.

The next part was to add the spices…. most of the recipes I looked at suggested nutmeg so I added half a teaspoon or so into the mix (thanks, Bear for taking the photo)

And all recipes said to add my favourite spice cinnamon – 1 whole teaspoon.

A pinch of ground cloves (yes, you can buy it ground but I couldn’t find my jar, so I ground up a couple or so of cloves with my trusty pestle and mortar and scooped up the finest bits)  and half a teaspoon of ground ginger were stirred in as well.

And then I started to stir. The heat was turned down to the bare minimum and I stirred.

Then I went for a nap and left the Bear to stir. So he stirred. All the descritptions of apple butter said that it had to be stirred constantly but we managed a stir every few minutes as the pan sat there on the lowest heat.

Anyway, it didn’t burn and we kept stirring. The apartment smelled gorgeous. Apples, cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg  all mixed together is a truly delicious aroma. Even if you don’t want to make it  to eat then you  should make it just for the smell.

The recipes suggested that constant stirring at a slightly higher temperature would have the apple butter ready in a couple of hours.

We did it at a very low temperature for four or so hours… stirring it round until it looked like this

The sugars in the apple had caramelised and the puree had gone a lovely rich and golden brown. When I dragged the spoon through it, it was thick enough to leave a trail through the puree.

When I lifted a spoonfull of it up, it didn’t run off the spoon… so that meant, according to everything I had read, that it was ready.

It didn’t look to me like butter, but there you go, I’d got this far, I’d just have to keep going.

I’d sterilised jars by boiling water in them in the oven and I spooned in the apple butter

It looked brown and still not in the least bit buttery.

By now though, it was getting late so I let it cool and then put it in the fridge overnight.

What a transformation! It had set into a smooth and delicious spread…. yes, it was buttery in texture!

I’d done it!

It tastes delicious and on hot toast it is a perfect breakfast. It can keep in the fridge for three or four weeks (if it last that long) and for months in a properly sealed and sterilised jar.

What I am intrigued with are further recipes that I found – apple butter cakes, cookies or biscuits anyone?

Get out there, collect some apples and start making apple butter!

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The weather is good so we decided to go looking for more fruit.. and what fruit we found. We live on the top of a hill and at the back of where we live is a lovely park. Parts of it are overgrown – so much so that the apple trees appear to be fruiting blackberries as well. The brambles reach up and entwine through the branches so that blackberries are dangling down from ten feet or so.

Apples  weighed down the branches of the trees, deep in the undergrowth. One bump against the trunk and the apples fell down, bumping against branches and disappearing into the tangled brambles and grasses onto the ground. It’s so overgrown that I couldn’t even see them after they landed.

Within minutes we had a bag full. We had to ignore all the huge, fat, shining blackberries because I just don’t have the time to deal with them today and there’s no point picking them if you can’t cook them the same day.

As we walked back round to our apartment, I saw something drop to the path in front of me. It was a fat, ripe plum. I must have walked by that tree a hundred times before and not noticed it was a plum tree. In my defence, it is in the shrubbery, lining the path. Maybe it’s just that everything is fruiting this summer. Trees at home that I know have not fruited in 20 years are now covered in apples.

Anyway, I didn’t need anymore encouragement than that – I handed my bag to the Bear and dived into the shrubbery to get to the plum tree. Before I knew it, there were a dozen juicy Victoria plums falling first into my hands and secondly into the forage bag.

We had to stop. I didn’t think there was going to be so much fruit but with quarter of an hour we had two bags full.

The plums were large and sweet – definitely part of a fruit garden at one point

The apples were various sizes and what I call “ear biter” apples – you know, the sweetly sharp ones that make you squeak with delight when you bite into them as they sort of tweak you behind your ears? I love apples like that.  We seemed to have brought home more than we thought. I also brought home several small spiders and a caterpillar or two. No wonder I was feeling itchy after crawling through those bushes.

And out on the balcony I had another apple tree, a Greensleeves which is also a sharp and crisp apple.

I was going to have do a lot of apple cooking.

This coming week I am going to make Apple Butter, an apple cake and Toffee Apple Crumble as we are having a guest for dinner one night. And there were plums to cook as well….so much fruit and so little time.

First will be the Apple Butter, something I have wanted to make for a long time. There’s no butter in it… just apples, spices and some sugar, cooked until the natural sugars in the apple caramelise and turn it a soft brown, leaving it soft and smooth, (which is why it is called butter) perfect to spread on bread. What a great way to use up the apple bounty. It preserves them, too,  making a delicious treat for later in the year. 

I’d better get a move on, then… just as well this a holiday!

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Once back in the kitchen I picked through the berries and removed any leaves and stray bits that had fallen into our bags and put them straight into a large, heavy bottomed pan on a gentle heat to start cooking down.

The theory behind making fruit leather is that you have to cook the fruit and puree it, adding just honey or sugar to sweeten it (if necessary) and lemon juice. What you end up with is the very essence of the fruit so it is important to keep everything simple. There’s no need to add too much sugar…I suppose, though, it is a matter of taste. Berries, especially wild berries, can be very sharp and do need something to sweeten them. Just don’t go masking the fruit with an overload of sugar.

A sprinkling of sugar helps the berries start to cook down – there’s  no need to add water as the juices soon come out. Just look at that glorious colour!

Once the fruit was cooked, I strained the fruit pulp to get the majority of the juice out

There was still a lot of juice in the pulp so I got my mouli food mill out and started milling the pulp. This will keep the seeds out and push through the pulp. Wild berries are very seedy so you must try and get the majority of them out. If you haven’t got a food mill then try pushing the pulp through a sieve.

You can see how many seeds there are as the pulp gets pushed through

And underneath the mill you can see the pure fruit pulp being squeezed out

Last year we had gone to a Pick Your Own Fruit farm and came home with punnets of strawberries. I had cooked some of them down and frozen, in bags, those we didn’t eat. This was an ideal time to use up the last of the bags of strawberries and add some extra fruit to our fruit leather. There would be seeds from the strawberries, I know, but at least I had removed the majority of the blackberry seeds.

I added the juice of a lemon

And some honey to taste

And pureed it all to a lovely smooth mix before letting it simmer, bubbling gently for 5 minutes.

I lined a couple of baking trays with clingfilm

And poured in a thin layer of the fruit puree. It spreads out over the cling film. You don’t need a really thick layer – maybe 3mm or thereabouts? Put in a bit at a time and tip the tin back and forth to get an even layer.

My great plan to free up freezer space by making preserved fruit that didn’t need freezing wasn’t quite working out because I had puree left over.  Into pots it went and into the freezer. Some was poured over yoghurt that evening to have a a dessert after supper.

And then this is when I started to wonder how I was going to do the next bit….

Everything I had read suggested that the trays were then put into the oven on 50 degrees c (120 degrees F) and left for 6 hours. And yes, it was OK to use clingfilm and put it in the oven. That temperature is so low it won’t melt the clingfilm. What you are really doing, of course, is just drying it out, rather than cooking it. When this is manufactured on a large scale, dehydrators are used but an oven on the lowest temperature possible for a long time does the job just as well.

Thing is, it was 9pm and I was tired… did I start it off now and then set my alarm for 3am? Or did I try and stay awake till midnight and then turn the oven off when I got up for work?  What would happen if I left it in for longer?

I decided, in the end, to start it off before I went to bed and get up at three…. but then, of course, I ended up waking up every hour or so and going to check.  I thought I might as well so at least we would all have some kind of idea about cooking it.

For the first few hours it was definitely liquid and I thought I must have gone wrong somewhere but eventually

as the sun came up,  it became thicker and sticky… and at last it looked set.

It was darker and when I touched it it felt tacky but not sticky

I could peel it away from the cling film! It had worked!

Maybe it could have stayed in a bit longer as there was some puree still liquid underneath…

But really? I think it worked! It pulled up as a sheet just as I’d read it would do

I had two sheets of fruit leather

It was easy to cut into strips

And held up to the light it was the most beautiful colour

All I had to do now was put the strips into an airtight box and we had our supplies of fruit leather.

The big question, of course, is was it worth it?

Was it worth diving through the bushes, getting scratched and prickled to collect the fruit? Was it worth the constant getting up to check the progress of the leather? Would I do it again?

Yes, yes and yes.

I know that next time I will be more relaxed about the timing  – 50 degrees C is so low that leaving it in there for longer won’t harm it and next time when there’s puree left over I will simply make another tray of it.

The taste was fantastic – it really was the fruitiest fruity taste I’d ever had. The texture was smooth and chewy, but not horribly so… it soon dissolves. We have eaten it as a sweet treat  and also cut it into slices and stirred it through yoghurt.

Guess what? We’re going out blackberrying again.

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This year has been fantastic for fruit – my apples and figs were fruiting heavily on the trees on the balcony and my mother’s fruit garden has produced more pounds of goosecurrants, redcurrants, whitecurrants and gooseberries than we know what to do with.

We have had family and friends round to pick as much as they want and there are still pounds more to pick

It comes to something when even her young grandson is sent out to help get the redcurrants. He carefully showed me how best to get them off the stems using a fork to drag down the stalks, knocking the currants off as it goes and a bowl underneath to catch them.

The goosecurrants (two ancient bushes) are a cross between a blackcurrant and a gooseberry and they have been particularly prolific this year.

They make fantastic jam or jelly and my sister in law has made some spectacular jam that puts my mother’s to shame. Mind you, she is the one who did the Pheasant Breasting Masterclass  while my brother took the pictures,back in December, so you know from that that she has a real talent in the kitchen.

Even my mother’s  ancient apple tree that hasn’t borne fruit for the last 20 odd years has suddenly started producing. There are bags of cleaned fruit in the freezers just waiting to have something done with them. Enough jam has been made to go on toast and fill cakes until all of us are old and grey and we still have more bags than we can count. Cordials and ice creams are next on the list to make – all we are missing is the time to do them all.

But still, we thought, we might as well go and look at the blackberries. And besides, I had an idea for something. Something that wouldn’t take up any more freezer space. If we did get blackberries I would use them that evening.

We live on the top of a hill and to the side of where we are, is a lovely park. We can walk out along the private path and down into the park itself. It is a fantastic walk in every season of the year – in winter it really looks magical in the snow… in summer, people are out on the grass and now? Now the bushes are laden with fruit and people are walking round with bags.

The park is well maintained and the grass is mown and even the edges where the hedgerow plants are, are looked after. The gardeners  always leave the blackberry bushes to fruit.

Deep inside the bushes that line the edge of the park are old, abandoned apple trees that fruit heavily and the apples just fall to the ground.

Today though, we were there for blackberries. Plenty of people had been there before us so we were going to have to head deeper into the bushes.

We went further into the wild tangle of brambles – so wild they had entwined themselves around apple trees and the blackberries hung down alongside ripening apples.

Luckily I brought along a straightened out wire coat hanger (with the hook left, of course) so I could pull down the best of the blackberry branches.

We got lots of great big, fat and juicy blackberries with only minor damage to ourselves – a few scratches here and there and a minor tumble into the stinging nettles… but, as I assured the Bear as he lay there yelping in agony, it would all be worth it.

The thing about blackberries is that you have to use them the day you pick them. They must carry mould spores on them because if you leave them for a few hours, once picked, they will go mouldy.

There was a reason for me wanting to get more fruit, though. I wanted to try something I had read about over the past few years. When we first met, for our first Christmas, the Bear bought me “Preserved” by Johnny Acton and Nick Sandler – fabulous book that details all kinds of methods and recipes for preserving food. I’d read it and made plans to work through it but, as always, life got in the way and I never got round to it.

The thing I was most intrigued by was fruit leather - where quantities of fruit were pureed and then dried, in a thin layer, making a dried fruit sheet that lasts  without having to freeze it. It’s called leather because that is what it looks like – it is soft and chewy in reality.

So… something that could use up extra fruit and wouldn’t take up space in my freezer? That had to be worth a go, right?

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The fact that these terms have entered our language and are used daily point to the importance of bread for the majority of people. “Bread” and “dough”  are even used as slang terms for money.

Anyway, I love the action of making bread. I love the smell of it baking and I especially love cutting into a still warm loaf. I think I could get away with murder in our house as long as the Bear can have his fresh loaf. His favourite is the No-Knead Bread but sometimes I make soft white bread because, really, there’s nothing like it for a fried egg sandwich which is one of our favourite weekend breakfasts.

This  wasn’t planned as a breakfast , however. I wanted to make us something nice for lunch. Something light and tasty but also something that would brighten what was a rather vile day. There were thick clouds everywhere and violent rain storms. The Met Office were issuing storm and flood warnings. A typical British Summer, eh?

I had a fancy for a sandwich but a kind of baked and stuffed sandwich. Sort of like a calzone pizza but with lovely white bread. I wanted a light and fresh toasted sandwich – certainly not a heavy meaty one…and it had to be suitable for Meatfree Monday.

But first of all I had to make the bread.

That’s as easy as anything, really.

250g of strong white bread flour with a teaspoon each of dried yeast and salt are stirred together so you have all the dry ingredients evenly dispersed

50g of butter can then be rubbed through, rubbing the butter lumps with your fingers so they make a fine, almost granular in appearance, mix.  (Yes, the Bear took that photograph as my hands were messy)

5 fluid ounces of warm water need to be poured in and mixed through. The warm water helps the yeast become active, so don’t have it too hot as this will kill the yeast and too cold means it won’t start to work its yeasty magic and make the bread rise.

The dough will come together quickly and then you need to knead it. Either do it by hand (and it’s not a tough job as this is only a small quantity of dough, just enough for two people) or if you have a mixing machine with a dough hook, stick it in there for 5 minutes. If you are doing it by hand, take ten minutes and think of it as a meditative exercise… I stretch the dough away from me and pull it back again and again. The texture of the dough changes from an uneven, lumpy mass into a smooth and almost silky ball of dough that bounces back when you poke it. It’s a marvellous way of calming down or settling your mind.

Once the dough looks right – and you will be able to tell the difference from when you started out – make it into the shape you want and leave it to rest, lying in either a greased loaf tin, covered with a damp tea towel to stop it drying out or, as I have done, lying on some lightly  oiled cling film and loosely wrapped. I wanted a baguette shape so I rolled it between my hands for a free form shape.

That needed to rise quietly by itself until it had doubled in size, which, in normal temperatures, takes about an hour or maybe an hour and a half. In the depths of winter it can take longer and you might have to find a warm place so the dough can rise.

Once it had grown into the size it should be – i.e. a baguette big enough for two – I pulled it apart and started putting the filling in.

Sun dried tomatoes went first.

Slices of lovely, tangy Tallegio cheese on top of that. I chose Tallegio because it melts well and tastes divine. You choose whatever you think is the nicest.

And remember those roasted red peppers I made?  I thought they would add an extra layer of flavour, so the last of them were laid on top.

Then it was simply a matter of making sure the oven was heated to 230 degrees C/45o degrees F and the edges of the dough pinched back together

A few slashes across the top to let it expand and then it went iinto the oven for half an hour or so.

You’ll be able to smell it when it’s ready – that gorgeous baking bread smell fills the apartment and the Bear starts to look around, sniffing, realising his lunch is nearly ready.

The bread has risen nicely and browned gently… some of the cheese has started to ooze out….

And cut into? It’s not doughy at all but a lovely, well risen soft white baguette with a hot and savoury tomatoey, cheesey and smokey peppered middle!

A success, if I say so myself.

The Bear thought so too and, really, that’s what counts for me.

Try it… put whatever filling you like in – the heat of the oven will heat the filling as it bakes the bread. It really is worth it… delicious baguette stuffed with your favourite things. Just what you need to brighten a wet and windy August day!

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All over the world. And wherever he travels  he eats. He has a great time sampling different foods and styles of cooking but whenever he gets back from his travels he always asks for one thing in particular. I would and could cook him anything at all, no matter how involved or time consuming, because I am so pleased that he is home again….. and all he ever wants is his favourite.

I think it happens to us all when you have been away from home for too long. All you want is something that is inextricably tied to memories of home, something that can only be made at home… you’d never be able to get a restaurant to make it for you. They could try but they’d never get it right. Restaurants are fine… they are great in some cases but eating out every night? After a while you need something simple. Once when I had been travelling round the south of India for weeks, eating the most delicious food and learning to make dal, I was preparing to come home and all I could think about was my mother’s cooking.  In an internet cafe in Bangalore (this was only a few years ago but BlackBerry’s weren’t on the market yet) I emailed work and asked the lovely Lolly to phone my Mum and tell her I was on my way back and to please make fish pie for my homecoming! And when I eventually got back, there it was, delicious and perfect and exactly what I needed after so long away.

Homecoming food should be comfort food. It should make you feel surrounded with love. It shouldn’t be – it can’t be – challenging, it has to be familiar.

So that’s what he gets.

And what is it? It’s beans on toast with a fried egg. But, like the advert says, it’s not just ANY beans on toast with a fried egg… it’s the Bear’s Beans on toast with a fried egg!

There are specific ingredients, though, that make this special. It wouldn’t be the same if I used supermarket bread, no matter what premium range it came from. It wouldn’t be the same if I used any old beans and just plonked them on the toast. And it certainly wouldn’t be the same if I used ordinary eggs and just fried them any old way.

The bread has to be made by me and it has to be No-Knead Bread because that not only tastes good but it has the perfect texture. It doesn’t dissolve when you pour the beans over it. Go and follow that link for a step by step look at making it. I have to start it the day before I need it but that’s good, when I start the bread I know my Bear will be home soon.

Those eggs? They are the gorgeous free range eggs from our local farm shop. Free range makes such a difference and the quality of their eggs reflects this. They are large with golden yolks and taste simply delicious.

And the beans? Well, they just HAVE to be Heinz.

So far so good.

And now to start it. The thing about beans is that they can – even the best of them – be a bit watery. We don’t like that. We like them heated gently and slowly till they become rich and thick.

….. and with a knob of butter added to them to make them taste even better.

The bread has to be cut thick, but not too thick and toasted

…..before being spread with salted Normandy butter

…. and piled high with beans. See how thick they are? How tasty they are too…..

The eggs are cooked in oil with some chilli oil poured in (ohhhh… how good that makes the eggs taste. Just a bit of a bite to them!)

And then you put the eggs on top.

It really is delicious. The yolk spills out and mixes with the beans and the toast mops up all the delicious dribbles.

It still needs just one extra thing though for the ultimate, homecoming comfort food….Heinz tomato sauce……

And that’s why you can’t get that in a restaurant. 

There are so many specifics and the biggest of them all is that the cook has to make a tomato sauce heart over the top.

Perfect homecoming food that says welcome back and come on in, you’ve been missed.

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I knew there were a few potatoes left and I could do something with them….

I had some polenta pie left so that would go with them.

I needed to liven them up a bit so as I drove back I worked through what else we had in the apartment… or what else we had growing outside the apartment.

There was a lovely, healthy bush of thyme, just outside the french doors. I could use that…..

And in the freezer there was a bag of quartered lemons and limes. Whenever I have lemons and limes left over, rather than letting them dry out and go to waste, I quarter them and freeze them. That way I have a marvellous ice cube for a G&T or other drink. But if I used them for the potatoes… well… they would go perfectly with thyme.

So I had a plan.

The potatoes were washed and  cubed and the oven put on at 180 degrees C/160 degrees C, fan assisted/350 degrees F.

I put the cubed potato in a bowl with some water and salt – minimal water – and microwaved them for 5 minutes. You could parboil them but this was faster and I was tired, hungry and didn’t want to wash any pans.

In a lined baking tray, I mixed crushed garlic with oil and salt

and grabbed a handful of thyme and lemon and lime pieces.

The potato cubes were thrown into the baking tin with the thyme and the frozen lemon and lime and everything was tossed in the garlicky oil.

Into the oven for twenty to thirty minutes while I went to get changed out of my work clothes and into something more comfortable.

The thyme leaves fall off the stem so all you have to do is pick out the stems and Bob’s your uncle.

The potatoes had that lovely, almost sweet, savoury taste, crunchy on the edges and deliciously soft in the middle. The lemon and lime had cooked slowly from frozen solid to soft, almost caramenlised roastedness, which gave everything a lovely sharpness and the garlic and thyme worked wonderfully. With a few salad leaves from the box on the balcony and a couple of tiny tomatoes and the remnants of the polenta pie, I had a marvellous meal in less than 40 minutes.

Now, look at that photograph more carefully…. guess who didn’t spot that lime quarter nestling amongst her potatoes?

What have I learned from this?

That a delicious meal can be made from scraps, that freezing lemons and limes are not just for gin…. and that wearing your glasses when dishing up is a good idea.

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