Boxing Day in Sussex

After days of rain, the sun came out and the sky over southern England was blue. A fresh breeze rippled through the woods and fields, and we felt the call to head out into the rolling hills of the Sussex countryside for lunch at the Jolly Sportsman Pub http://www.thejollysportsman.com/ in East Chiltington. We headed down country lanes, through fields turned golden with the midday sunshine, past the red telephone box at the end of the lane (seemingly in the middle of nowhere), and turned into the drive of the pub, parking up next to the horse pasture. It’s innocuous, hidden behind a Sussex hedge… the kind of place you wouldn’t know was there, unless you knew it was there. No sign. No fanfare. A gem of a place. We couldn’t have chosen a better place to spend Boxing Day lunch.

We settled down in the sun-filled conservatory and chose from a menu full of very tempting things…

…and I chose the game and goose terrine with pear chutney…

…followed by roast guinea fowl.

…accompanied by fresh and apply La Croix Gratoit Picpoul de Pinet wine and great companionship in Tootsie, Wineguy and Hankenstein.

After lunch we headed out to the Devil’s Dyke in the South Downs for a walk in the waning afternoon sun. We had views from Brighton and the English Channel on one side to Surrey on the other.

Kite flyers and walkers were out enjoying the fresh winter and walking off their Christmas dinners.

The sun began its descent, streaking the sky with fingers of pink and gold…

…and we headed back, stopping into the Devil’s Dyke Pub for a cup of steaming hot chocolate before heading home.

Christmas

It was  a day of food, family and fun. It was a little after 6:00am when Hankenstein discovered Santa had, indeed, managed to slip down the chimney, set the presents under the tree…

… fill the stockings and eat the gingerbread man, drink the whisky and read the note H had left for him. Rudoph’s carrot and glass of milk were gone too. Before H went to bed we checked where Santa was on the Norad Santa Tracker — he was heading over Gibraltar and had hit the 4 billion presents delivered marked. No wonder he and Rudolph were hungry when they reached Sussex!

The presents were opened (yes, there were some for me!)…

…the stockings emptied and breakfast eaten. Then Wineguy headed into the kitchen to prepare Christmas lunch (he’s a keeper!). The rain had finally let up, so Tootsie, Hankenstein and I headed to the local park for a walk (and so H could play of course).

When we got back, the table was set (Santa must have left some elves behind!)…

…and Christmas lunch was ready! There were chicken livers with balsamic vinegar (delish)…

…then roast prime rib of beef with Yorkshire pudding and lots of veg…

…followed up by home-made lemon and raspberry trifle.

Then there was “It’s a Wonderful Life” and “Ice Age 3” and “Arthur Christmas” and putting together Lego, and playing Mousetrap and Battleship, with some cheese and crackers, and a visit from Magman, and Whist and wine and port and…

…and wonderful Christmas was had by all! Now the sun is out and we’re off to a country pub for Boxing Day lunch and a walk on the Sussex Downs.

Deck the Halls

I’m at my sister Tootsie’s for Christmas. I arrived yesterday afternoon, blown in the door by a 80mph gale.

The tree lights twinkled…

…Bing Crosby was crooning carols, Christmas card garlands hung from doors…

…and home-knitted stockings hung by the fire (with care).

I recognised some old family decorations…

…and ones collected by Tootsie over the years.

Somethings tasty sat in the centre of the dining table…

…and there was some evidence that Canadians were in the house.

Gingerbread Men (and Friends)

My nephew Hankenstein and I were tasked to make gingerbread men. I Googled a recipe (thank you Tate & Lyle http://www.lylesgoldensyrup.com/kitchen.php?recipe=35 , and assembled all the ingredients (to bake one must organise).

I pre-heated the oven (to bake one needs a hot oven), and we mixed all the ingredients together (well, Hankenstein poured and I mixed). Then I threw flour all over the countertop (much to H’s delight) and we proceeded to roll out the gingery dough. I got out the gingerbread man cookie cutter, but H felt some dinosaurs would add a unique touch. Then the other cookie cutters began, as if by magic, to appear — bells, Santas, stars, snowmen, holly… because, as H said, “The gingerbread men would be lonely without friends”.

H cut them all out and I spread them out onto the baking trays…

…and then we watched them turn golden brown in the oven.

A production line ensued, with the spicy, sugary smell of freshly baked gingerbread cookies filling the kitchen.

Then, it was the fun bit (or, really, the next phase of fun) — icing them! Well, to ice means for Auntie to decorate while H squirted icing into his mouth.

Then it was time to taste them. Because to bake gingerbread men (and their friends) means to eat them, fresh out of the oven.

Birthday!

I was promised cake. Chocolate (of course). There were candles, not, admittedly, matching my years on this planet, but that would have needed a much bigger cake.

Hankenstein insisted on being the photographer while I sucked in my breath to blow out the candles.

Happy Birthday to me!

Gingerbread Train

Tootsie and Hankenstein spent Sunday afternoon baking and decorating a gingerbread train. It has pride of place on the dining table. I wonder if it will make it to Christmas?

Halloween

Well, it was all about Halloween yesterday, so I was off to Tootsie’s house for a kiddies’ Halloween party. Hankenstein and Wineguy were skeletons and Tootsie and I were witches, while Bubby was a cat. Wineguy, Hankenstein and I headed to a neighbour’s for a mini-party followed by sparklers and trick-or-treating. When we got back, the house was full of cobwebs and bats and pumpkins and lots of goodies to eat. I think half the children of Sussex were in the house at any given time, and much screaming, playing, dancing and eating ensued. All very very scaryyyyyy!!!!!

Henna

Berberman’s mother comes out into the yard and places a large bag of green herb on a chair to dry. I point to it and raise my eyebrows.

“Henna!” she says.

She goes into the kitchen and comes out with a bowl. Then she squats on the ground and begins crumbling the dried leaves into a fine dust.

Later she makes up a thick paste and covers the palms of her hands and soles of her feet with the wet henna. It dries black. To protect her from djinns (genies).

If It’s Friday, It’s Cous Cous Day

Every Friday is cous cous day in Morocco. Forget about the spoonful of the nutty grain as an “accompaniment” to your main meal. No no no. Cous Cous is the big meal of the Moroccan week, eaten mid-day on Fridays either before or after a visit to the mosque.

Berber Angel let me help her last week while she prepared the big meal — and it does take some hours, believe me.

First, you take the meat or chicken with sliced onions, chopped tomatoes and spices — salt, pepper, powdered ginger, a smidgeon of saffron if you have it and a glug of olive oil and vegetable oil and put them on the hob in a large pot with a cover to cook on medium heat. After ten minutes add some water about 2 to 3 cups or so. Let it all simmer and sizzle and infuse into a lovely golden sauce.

Next, you peel and cut up the veg — red squash or pumpkin, marrow, potatoes, carrots, cabbage, parsnip, and zucchini. Put the carrots, parsnip and cabbage in the pot. Slice the carrots, parsnip and zucchini rather than chopping them into chunks. Don’t add the other veg yet — they’d just fall apart!

Now you get to the cous cous. You need a lot. A whole bag. Think big. You la’re feeding an army here. Pour it all into a really large bowl…

…with a bit of vegetable oil and water…

…give it a mix…

…and a good sift…

…and smooth it all out.

Then pour it into the top of the cous cous pot (or into a steamer on top of the pot of simmering meat and veg)…

…and cover it to let it steam.

Let the cous cous steam for about 10 minutes then pour it out into your large bowl and fluff it all up. Beware – it’s hot! It didn’t bother Berber Angel but I would have had to use spoons.

Time to put the potatoes, squash and zucchini into the pot of simmering meat and veg.

Put the cous cous back in the cous cous pot and set it over the simmering meat and veg for another 10 minutes, then pour it back into the bowl and fluff it up again, adding a dash of vegetable oil. Pour it back into the cous cous pot and let it steam another 10 minutes. No short cuts on this! Add some chopped up coriander to the meat pot for these last 10 minutes.

Go have a cup of tea. Then come back in 10 minutes and pour out the fat and fluffy cous cous into your serving dish or dishes.

Add the meat or chicken to the centre…

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…and add the veg, arranged nicely around the meat to cover it up. Spoon the golden sauce over it all.

To eat it the Moroccan way, set the platter in the middle of a table and grab a spoon. Eat the cous cous first, then the veg, and finally the meat. Moroccans scoop the cous cous up in their fingers and roll it into a small ball and pop it into their mouths. Whenever I’ve tried this it’s ended in my lap to the great amusement of everyone. I eat with a fork and knife. Fewer cleaning bills that way. Eat what’s in front of you — the hostess divides the meat up amongst all the diners when you get to that point. Dig in!

All About Almonds

It’s almond harvesting season here in the Atlas Mountains and I’ve been helping Berberman’s family shell hundred of almonds from their almond trees. It’s not scientific, but it’s effective.

A rock and a wrench — it does the trick. Always more fun when the neighbours come by to help and chat…

…dividing up the piles of husks…

…and fresh, sweet almonds — “Loos” in Berber.

Irresistible!