This was both tasty and very quick to make.
This recipe except I used port instead of marsala, because the useless off license in the Big Village doesn’t sell marsala wine (I don’t think they’d even heard of it). I served it with salad from the garden.
Actually I used a Coquina squash, although they are barely any different from a butternut squash.
Loosely based on this recipe, or rather on the recipe in the comments, but heavily adapted by me.
In this picture of our back garden from Google Maps? Obviously this must date from when the previous people were living here. Click to see full size.
We have an elder growing at the end of our garden. My plan for this year was to climb up to the top and get everything from it, but that didn’t really work out. We don’t have the sort of ladders to do that, and so I had to rely on my trusty stepladder. Unfortunately that meant not getting very much, just the bottom 10′ or so from the side over the garden. The photo above shows exactly what we ended up with.
Ask N-sama …
Roast pork belly and pears recipe from the Times.
In case the Times decide to put it behind a paywall, here is this recipe:
2kg pork belly, bone in, skin scored by the butcher into 1cm strips
Cider vinegar
3 plump cloves of garlic
Fine salt and freshly ground pepper
8 sprigs of thyme
2 tbsp olive oil
1 bay leaf
4 red onions, peeled and quartered through the root
4 pears
125ml dry cider
200ml chicken stock
Eight hours before you want to eat, place the pork, skin side up, on an oven rack in the sink and pour over freshly boiled water. This helps open up the fat to create good crackling. Dry the skin thoroughly, then brush with cider vinegar. Place uncovered in the fridge for at least four hours, ideally overnight. If you don’t have time, dry thoroughly with kitchen towel.
Mash the garlic cloves with a pinch of salt. Strip the leaves from 4 of the thyme sprigs and add to the garlic. Stir in the olive oil.
Place the pork, skin side down, in a large roasting tin. Season the flesh generously, then poke a few shallow holes between the bones with the point of a knife. Massage the garlic mixture into the meat. Turn skin side up, tucking the bay leaf underneath, and leave at room temperature for about an hour.
Preheat the oven to 200C/400F/Gas Mark 6. Dry the pork skin again, then scatter with a good tbsp of salt and massage in well. Place in the oven, skin side up, and cook for 1 hour. Add the onion quarters and stir until coated with the fat. Return to the oven for 30 minutes.
Turn the onions, then halve the pears and add to the roasting tin, cut side down. Scatter with the remaining thyme. After 15 minutes, turn the pears and increase the oven temperature to 240C/475F/Gas Mark 9. Cook for another 20-25 minutes or until the skin is puffed and crisp. The meat should be juicy but cooked through, the onions caramelised and soft, the pears on the verge of collapse. Transfer everything to a serving dish and keep warm.
Tip off most of the fat from the pan, leaving behind the meaty juices. Place on the hob, pour in the cider and allow to bubble for 1-2 minutes – scrape all the caramelised bits off the bottom. Pour in the stock and bubble for a few minutes more. Taste and season.
Carve the pork at the table, cutting between the bones into rustic ribs.
(This is not actually Hatfield House, but the chapel in the west garden)
These recipes came from Nigel Slater’s Fast Food book.
The first is goat’s cheese, nasu and red peppers:
(I thought this one was really nice)
then artichoke hearts and olives:
then a bit of both …
I hope it won’t rain.
Look what N-sama made for me on Sunday!
Pevsner’s Hertfordshire from the famous series the Buildings of England. I’m pretty sure Maki would like this a lot.
This recipe along with 2 lbs of our own courgettes, our own basil, and our own chives, was very delicious.
Here’s the raw avocado soup, a rawfood recipe:
It looks, and probably tastes, like the green gunk they have in science fiction films. Well, it’s not too bad, but I felt quite hungry afterwards.
Update: I realized that I forgot the olive oil …
On Lady E’s desk, which is now my workbench!
