Do You Like Watermelon? The Aftermath

Watermelon is fine. But when it gets juiced and kept outside for too long, and then drunk by a thirsty cyclist just home from work, it can create havoc with your insides.

Urgh.

PS: No pictures, they wouldn't be pretty

Do You Like Watermelon?

I certainly do!

More Bread

Lots of photos of various breads made at the course, including Tuscan Harvest Bread (made with lots of grapes and raisins and vino santo), pirozhki (with egg and cabbage), all-real-butter croissants, focaccia, French country bread with lots of nuts and dried fruit, and a communal wheatsheaf (with mouse). There were others, such as various rhy breads, brioche, fruitbread (which I turned into a gugelhupf) - I can't even remember it all.

The people on the course were a good mix of young and old, new hands and experienced bakers, and of course there was Andrew, who knows more about bread than I've ever forgotton.

Brilliant

I'm sure they mean well....

At first, the novelty was appealing.

A walk round the supermarket saw Max 'pick-up' all sorts of freebies from garlic fried potatoes to little pots of strawberry yoghurt. At the butcher's he was given hunks of Fleischwurst (something akin to a high meat content luncheon meat) and at the baker's he got soft pretzels and biscuits. Even the lady at the supermarket meat counter asked 'wui der kloana a Wiener odr a Stück Gelbwurst' (whether the little one would like a fistful of German meat of one description or another). But I soon learned that, however cute it looked, Max in the trolley at ten thirty with a piece of bread bigger than his head in one hand and an obscenely huge sausage would mean he would look askance at my nutrious warm lunch an hour or so later and our sacrasanct routine would be out of synch for the whole day. The young man, of course, loved it. He soon cottoned on, vociferously complaining 'more, more, more' a hundred times at even the slightest glimpse of a baker's or meat counter vitrine. I liked the fact that he was becoming a true little German sausage afficionado but I just had to be careful with the timing. However, although sausages and bread really aren't THAT bad for toddlers, this little cultural more goes beyond a bit of hearty German elevenses. Max has been given dextrose tablets (?) from the chemists, Werthers Originals from strangers (wishing to placate a crying boy who is complaining that I have taken away a pen he was poking down his throat before putting him in the bike trailer – believe me depriving him of his boiled sweet caused renewed outrage) and the wonderful lady in the supermarket (just before teatime) who, on hearing Max's gigantinormous trolley tantrum (due to me having to get him and my frozen food home but him preferring to stay and play on the electric 'bike, bike, bike', 'car, car, car' or 'buth, buth, buth' (Max never says a word only once)) handed him an ice-cream in a packet telling me that 'now the poor little lad needn't cry anymore'. Well-meant I am sure but this latter trantrum resurfaced wth renewed vigour when I had to remove the ice-cream and plop it into the bin just as he got through the wrapper with his teeth – visualise the scene - me singing 'bye-bye ice-cream' in tense tones trying to drown out Max's wailing with a fixed smile trying to warm the cold stares of passers by. Wonderful experience.

I guess this particular novelty is rapidly wearing off...

Bread, Bread and More Bread

I spent last week in Cumbria, in the North of England, on a most excellent bread making course. It was run by Andrew Whitley, who used to own the Village Bakery in Melmerby, and is the author of one of the best bread books ever (at least in my opinion), Bread Matters. Over those five days, we got instruction on how to create our own sourdough, air kneading (good for your arms), how to survive in the Soviet Union on nothing but rye bread, potatoes and the odd bit of veg, the politics of owning a bakery, water mills, organic food & farming, shaping bread, different types of flour, gluten structure, and a whole load more. I won't bore you with all the details, but here are a couple of photos of the breads I made:


Russian Borodinsky bread. A rye sourdough bread, with molasses, malt, and most importantly, dried coriander (both ground and some seeds). According to the experts, well, my other half, very authentic.


Pain de levain aux oignons et lardon: ie wheat leaven bread with fried onions and bacon. Well tasty, excellent with cold meats.

More to follow

Nothing Much Really

It's been a while since we updated this blog, mostly because we've been too busy (more on that in another entry). So in the meantime, here are a couple of recent photos of The Man (at the time of writing, 19 months old already).

As you can see, he's already an accomplished gardener (what a hole), and likes blackberries fresh from the bush.