Gooseberries and The Walled Garden

I have amazing memories of visiting  “pick-your-own” farms as a child, they seemed to be everywhere, maybe it was because we lived on the edge of The Vale of Evesham, one of England’s prime fruit growing areas. So last weekend, on a fabulously sunny day, I thought Imi and I might have fun picking some gooseberries and strawberries up the road in Cheddar. Sadly we arrived to discover that we could only buy the ready-picked punnets of fruit and a pretty surly woman assured me that there was NOWHERE locally that your could pick your own. Is this true? If anyone knows otherwise, please do let me know. It does seem quite logical, I can’t see how the farmers ever made any money; my sister and I always went for the eat one, keep one, eat one, keep one approach. In fact I once came out in a terrible rash after gorging on strawberries, or maybe it was raspberries? I can’t remember.

Any how we couldn’t drive straight home on such a glorious day so we dropped into one of my all- time favourite places –  The Barley Wood Walled Garden  (it does pop up in my blog a lot, I promise that I’m not on a PR drive for them – I just happen to love it) First we visited the teeny shop in the shed, I bought some gooseberries and  Imi spent her pocket money on a crochet “Happy Bird” that she christened Alfred. I had to share the pictures with you, they are everything I adore about England. The gardens are heaven and I loved the fact that Imi was in a school dress at the weekend ( her primary school doesn’t have a uniform so she feels a bit left out ). Of course we swung by the restaurant as well, and had some of the ridiculously delicious toffee-appley cake (Will you ever share that recipe with us boys? – I notice that it’s not in the cookbook) and whilst Imi drank her elderflower cordial I tried some of the very subtle and refreshing pine cordial.

We headed home after a dash around the vegetable patch – I do have serious garden envy although I need to get real; I only just manage to keep up with the bindweed in our tiny shoebox. When we got home I decided to go two ways with my gooseberries, firstly the most obvious and indulgent gooseberry fool and then secondly a very, very tasty and healthy breakfast option with oat groats and yoghurt.

Let’s begin with the gooseberry fool, which along with rhubarb fool has to be one of the simplest, most divine English puddings on offer and not one to mess around with too much. My only tweaks/suggestions are to cook the gooseberries in elderflower cordial (always a fabulous combination) and to sprinkle with a few ginger nut biscuit crumbs.

Gooseberry Fool

450 g gooseberries, topped and tailed
4 tbsp  of elderflower cordial
300 ml double cream
A few ginger nut biscuits, crushed to a crumb with a rolling pin.

Cover and simmer the gooseberries with the elderflower cordial for about 5-10 minutes until they have all split. Now spoon out the gooseberries and reduce the liquid by boiling to at least 1/2. Don’t sieve – you want the skins and seeds for texture.

Now taste – it must be intensely sweet and sour at the same time. Allow to cool completely and then chill in the fridge.

Whip your double cream until it is thick but not stiff, it always sets up more as it sits, and fold in the gooseberries. Taste again – you might need a little more sugar.

Now spoon the fool into little glasses or  vintage tea cups and sprinkle with a few bashed up ginger nut biscuits if you feel like it.


I’ve never been all that keen on porridge –  it’s the rather sludgy, slimy texture.  And I’m afraid that no amount of cream, superior pin head oats or expert spurtle stirring can convince me. Oat groats though,  are something else with their slightly chewy texture and bite. I prefer to call them oat berries (groats just sound too hefty and wholesome) since whole grain wheat and rye are referred to as berries so I can’t see a problem. Cook up plenty of oats and keep them in the fridge for up to a week but do warm them through in a small pan or microwave before serving, as they seem very starchy when chilled.

Oat berries, gooseberries and honeyed yoghurt

250 g oat berries (groats)
500 g ( ml) water
450 g gooseberries, topped and tailed
4 tbsp elderflower cordial
Natural yoghurt (Greek if you’re feeling indulgent) and honey to taste.

Place the oat berries in a large saucepan without any water and roast them directly over a high heat, giving them a good shake from time to time until they smell toasty (about 3-4 minutes).

Now add the water and simmer for about 30-40 minutes until the grain is tender but still slightly chewy.

Cook the gooseberries as we did for the fool above and spoon into bowls (or glasses). Sprinkle over a couple of good spoons of oats and top with a good dollop of honey-sweetened yoghurt.

And, talking of gardens I’m very excited because later this week I’m going to be working at Highgrove and getting a glimpse of the Prince’s gardens. I’m teaching a bunch of primary school kids who have been awarded a day of cooking, painting and gardening as a prize for their outstanding gardening blogs.  There’s more about the Prince’s Mygrove challenge here.


Radishes and Robins



Radishes are one the great summer treats- just fabulous with a bit of unsalted butter and some crunchy salt. The idea of serving  them like a flower arrangement came from perhaps the glitziest restaurant I’ve ever been to. St Tropez’s Le Club 55 is the most ludicrously expensive, super -chic beach bar in existence…….and we arrived by helicopter! It’s seems like a different lifetime as I sit in my tiny back garden and think back to my super-yachting days. I worked aboard an Italian owned sailing boat as the cook and the owners did, just once in a while, invite us to partake in their bonkersly swanky lifestyle.

Our trip to Club 55 (please think it in French or it just doesn’t work) was to celebrate the re-fitting of the boat’s main mast – quite a hairy business which involved cranes, plenty of manic arm waving and lots of filthy French swearwords. I’d been given the important job of filming the event for the owners who’d wisely decided to miss the action. The first lesson in filming: never  turn  a camera on its side even if the tip of the mast doesn’t fit into a landscape shot. You had to watch the entire video with your head cricked to one side…… very irritated Captain and THANKFULLY highly amused boss.

The family popped into the boat yard in their helicopter to look over their beautiful yacht before flying on the extra few miles to Pampelonne beach. I leapt at the chance to hover over St Tropez  and then spent most of the time with my eyes shut, virtually hyper ventilating; there’s nothing I hate more than flying. So we landed in the car park next to the Ferrari’s and Lamborghini’s and made our way out into the shady, understated beachside restaurant. There on every table was a jug of radishes, some butter, salt, aioli and a basket of perfect baguette. The extraordinary thing is that  I have no memory of the rest of the meal, I was probably too busy people watching. So it just goes to show that the simplest, quickest thing to prepare can often make the most impact.

Another very delicious accompaniment to radishes was dreamt up by the talented chaps at one of my favourite restaurants, the antithesis of ritzy-glam, The Ethicurean here in The West Country. It involves frying a sliced spring onion and a couple of finely chopped cloves of garlic in rapeseed oil until really fragrant. Then adding a couple of tablespoons of chopped white anchovy fillets (you know, the delicious ones pickled in vinegar) and cooking for a minute. Allow to cool and then stir in about 5  tablespoons of crème frâiche. Season and then serve with a pile of freshly dug radishes ( an hour soaking in icy water will restore some crispness if your bought radishes seem a little tired)

The week before I took the picture I’d found some of those  slender, pink French breakfast radishes with their long whispy tails, they’re my favourites, not today. But, any good radish with  leaves intact can be bunched together tightly with some string and pushed into a squat jug or bowl. 

Talking of lapping up the simple things in life I have to share these pictures of Reg with you. Every year Peter hopes to hand feed a robin, he’s had no luck for the last couple but then Reg arrived. The trick is patience; when the robin is feeding its young it will be bolder than usual and so, by placing a small plate of live mealworms close by and waiting motionless whilst it feeds, the robin will gain confidence. Then it’s a question, over about a week, of moving the plate closer and closer until you’re holding it. Eventually the robin will land on your hand and even flutter outside the kitchen window until you come out to feed it.

We’re just hoping that Reg will be back again next year to feed another brood. The thrill of holding such a delicate little bird on your hand is extraordinary. So light, so perfect.



A month of Indulgence, Bristol fashion

This month the Sunday supplements, the glossies and the gossip mag’s are all screaming one thing- “get beach-body perfect”. It’s all about honing, toning, buffing (and starving) and then slipping into that summer swimwear with pride. I’m rather relieved that I don’t have an exotic vacation planned – excited about the prospects of Dartmouth and Whitstable (you can certainly eat very well in both places) where the likelihood of living in my bikini for a week is slim, to say the least. I’m not  brave (read fit) enough to wear a bikini in any case and as for the “tank-ini”?  Who could have christened a garment that’s quite obviously aimed at the lady with a wobbly midriff and hasn’t quite given in to the iron corseted body control M&S one piece,  a TANK – ini? So you’ve probably got the gist that iron ab’s, much as I’d love a set, are not high on my agenda, I’ll just settle for the kaftan cover up. Quite lucky really, since my last few weeks in Bristol have been an Eatathon.

In May Bristol hosted the first Bristol Food Connections Festival where the BBC and vast numbers of Bristolians got together to celebrate the region’s great food scene. I was also judging the Tapas and Best Modern European categories of the Bristol Good Food Awards winners here ). Add to that a few social gatherings which revolved around food, of course, and you can imagine that June might just have to become a boot camp.

Here are a few random Bristol shots just in case your reading this in Cameroon (yes, I do have a follower there), they don’t bear much relation to the post but give you a bit of local flavour. And here are just some of the highlights from a month’s eating down Bristol way (with a few of my newly discovered tasty treats that you can track down even if you live nowhere near Bristol).

First some destimations…

Bell’s Diner - where we gathered for the Guild of Food Writer’s lunch. If you haven’t been for a few years then you MUST go. It’s no surprise that it’s fab; nowadays the place is run by Connie Coombes and Kate Hawkings (previously of Rocinantes fame) and the chef Sam Sohn-Rethel has some heritage too (ex Moro, Lido, Flinty Red, Manna). It’s the lots-of-small-plates style of eating with an amazingly eclectic mix. I can still almost taste the Ibérico jamón butter, the chicken oyster pinchos were spectacular and the Imam Bayildi is the best served any side of Istanbul.

Go to Bravas  for, without a doubt, the best authentic tapas in Bristol – fried aubergine with molasses, grilled Ibérico pork, hake on the plancha, simplicity ….. heaven. If you stumbled upon this bar in Málaga you’d feel that you’d lucked out. Bravas owners, Imogen and Kieran, have opened another place too -Bakers & Co on the Gloucester rd. Well this one feels like a sunny Sydney breakfast joint and made me all nostalgic about Bill Granger’s  Darlinghurst breakfast café back in the 90′s. Amazing huevos rancheros and I even managed to SQUEEZE in a cinnamon bun.

Flinty Red on Cotham Hill is stupendous, more little- ish plates, just the way I love to eat . Amongst other triumphs I had a beautiful fennel and blood orange salad, fried duck egg with morcilla and piquillo peppers, seared kid with cabbage and capers and some amazing wines from Corks of Cotham. Infact I popped along today to purchase a bottle of the extra specially, mind blowingly good  Plum Sake.

A trip to the Wells rd took me out of my usual stomping ground to The Office Bar and Canteen & wow, was it worth it. Small plates again- very good sprouting broccoli tempura with salsa verde, amazing salt hake fritters, a seriously memorable beetroot puree and  very good world music vibe in the background.

Probably the most memorable ( and rather surreal) night out was a “pop up” hosted by Mi Casa and In the Dark Radio dubbed “Radio Tapas”. Amazing nosh – including wild garlic butter with radishes and fab bread, superb melt-in-the-mouth brisket eaten by candlelight whilst listening to dazzling radio interviews. A beached whale tale whilst we tucked into our Nigiri, the tonkling of an ice cream van as we enjoyed our zippy sorbets – you get the picture.

Another great discovery this month was the Surplus Supper Club where a charity, Fare Share, serve up perfectly delicious food waste, train aspiring chefs and raise money all at the same time. That’s another post in the very near future.

And these are a few of my favourite things I found along the way (and that’s my lovely deck chair in the background)Plum Sake, Wiper and True Ale, Rachel goat's cheese and dried laver flakes.

Amongst all the incredible winners  at The Radio 4 Food and Farming Awards this year was Jonathon Williams from  Pembrokeshire Beach Food Company  who won the best street food category. I’ve become increasingly obsessed with all things seaweedy and am desperate to get to one of his beach cafes this summer, meanwhile I’ll make do with some of his Welshman’s Caviar (that’s toasted laver seaweed to you) available in delis and on line. Delicious sprinkled for that extra bit of umami flavour.

There’s the afore mentioned Plum Sake (which Imi insists must remain untouched until Father’s Day!) and then a very, very tasty pale ale from the local chaps at Wiper and True  who I met at the Food Connections market. In fact I’m very excited about  the flourishing Bristol craft beer scene and need to do some serious investigating (King St is now known as the Beermuda Triangle owing to the number of  craft beer bars).

My cheese of the month, White lake Dairy’s,”Rachel“, is an exceptional goat’s cheese; it’s  nutty and so, so smooth, without any of that goaty pen aroma. “Sweet, curvy and slightly nutty”,  I love the fact that it was named after an ex girlfriend of Peter, the cheesemaker.

AND if you’re not tired of all my ramblings then please do come and join me on 16th June at 6.30 pm  at Bristol Grammar School for an evening of  Chick (pea) Lit chat about my book PULSE. You can buy tickets  here (raising money for the Home Farm trust). I’d love to see you.


Moroccan Memories and Bessara Soup

I was gathering together some recipes this morning for my moorish salad demo at the wonderful Borough Market and it got me reminiscing and poring over a few pictures from last year’s trip to Tangiers. Pete took some beautiful photographs (I can only claim to be author of half a dozen) and they do set the scene for the unbelievably simple, nutritious and tasty dip/soup that I’m cooking today.

I love the contrast of these first two sets of photographs. First you have the calm, relative coolness of the courtyards and back streets of the casbah and then the bustle of the souk with all it’s smells and vivid colours.

We stayed in a fab little hotel, high in the casbah , looking out over the Straits of Gibraltar - The Tangerina Hotel . The rooftop terrace was a fabulous place to chill and to eat simple and very delicious food. One evening we had a silky smooth bowl of bessara, made with split fava beans or peas -  it’s a classic all over Morocco, often eaten as a breakfast dish and sometimes served a little thicker as a dip with good bread.

I’m making bessara back at home too, it’s real comfort food, just great when you’re yearning for something healthy and nourishing, and I’ve been over indulging rather too much of late (Bristol has been a never ending food fest’ but that’s the next post). My split fava beans (dried broad beans) come from a fabulous British company called Hodmedods who sell our native beans (we’ve exported vast quantities of our fava beans to Egypt and the Middle East for years ). I love to use favas for falafel too. You can find these English beans in lots of health food shops nowadays.

Bessara  - Split fava or split pea soup. (about 6 bowls)

300 g split fava beans or split peas
3 tbsp olive oil
2 0nions, finely diced
2 carrots, finely diced
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 tsp cumin seeds, slightly crushed
1/2 tsp salt or to taste
Juice of 1/2 – 1 lemon
A good swirl of extra virgin olive oil
A good pinch of chilli flakes or smoked hot paprika
A few sprigs of fresh coriander, chopped

It’s a good idea, but not vital, to soak the split beans or peas in plenty cold water for a few hours – you’ll cut the cooking time considerably.

Take a large saucepan and fry off the onion and carrot until soft and beginning to brown and sweeten. Now add the garlic and cumin and fry until you’re enveloped in amazing smells.

Drain the beans and add to the pan, cover with 10 cm of water. Simmer for anything between 30 minutes to an hour until the beans or peas have pretty much collapsed.

Take a stick blender and whizz until smooth. Season with salt and lemon juice.

Serve the soup with a good swirl of extra virgin olive oil, a pinch of chilli or paprika and a sprinkling of fresh of coriander.

Jenny Chandler's fava bean soup

The soup should be velvety , about the thickness of double cream so you may need to add some liquid to loosen the texture.
Bessara can also be left thicker as a dip, rather like hummous or even served as a purée to use as a side dish in a mashed potatoey style.

Bluebells and Lemon Drizzle Cake

_DSC6049For the first time in my life I might just manage to be brief. We went to Priors Wood yesterday for a walk amongst the bluebells and I’m rushing this post because I SO want you to get there too. I know that lots of you aren’t from Bristol, in fact I’m amazed when I have a peek at my blog stat’s (Oh no I’m not too neurotic about checking my “hits”, nooo not at all) and see that people are reading my ramblings in such far flung places as Colombia and New Zealand. If you do live in Britain the bluebells are in their prime right now, go, there must surely be some woodland near you? If you live elsewhere… well, I just want to show off. Yes, it rains a lot here. Yes, it’s dull, dank and unseasonably cold too much of the time, BUT where else can you find woods like these? More to the point, where else would you find lovely ladies selling homemade cakes from trestle tables in someone’s garage to raise money for the local wildlife trust?

We showed no restraint whatsoever and had coffee and cake before even setting off on the walk, it did give us time to get hold of a map and join The Avon Wildlife Trust. The cakes were all fabulous by the way, but I am a serious fan of lemon drizzle cake and it won the prize for me. I’m not going to write out a recipe, there are plenty of them around, but here’s one I’d really recommend from Felicity Cloake of the Guardian. If you want to ring the changes a little,  try adding a tiny bit of fresh rosemary to the cake- literally about 10 of the needle-like leaves chopped very, very finely (almost to a powder) and added in at the same time as the flour.

Now I’ll leave you with some pictures of the woods. Being England we did, of course, get absolutely soaked but between showers (read torrential downpours) everything had an extra glisten and the smell of damp woodland was heaven.

Easter in The Languedoc – Roquefort and Walnut Salad.

Languedoc Vines and PoppiesI’m trying not to feel too blue today but I’m having a job after our chilled Easter holiday in France. I can’t believe how quickly my brain seems to get swamped by all the things I feel that I “ought”to be doing now we’re back home: the garden’s a shambles, I haven’t done my accounts for months, I have a huge pile of stuff ready to be flogged on eBay and dozens of classes to plan. If only I could just settle down for 1/2 an hour in my hammock (I’ve used it once in 2 years) with a good book and a glass of rosé and clear my brain ….but hell, the protestant work ethic kicks in and I’d be appalled with myself.

So, I’ll lose myself in a spot of reminiscing and try not to be the post-holiday bore with the blow by blow account of market trips and restaurant meals, in fact the pictures tell the story so much better. This wasn’t a Provençal boutiquey hotel vacation, we’d opted for a less fashionable (and rather cheaper) week’s hire of a slice of an old olive mill in The Languedoc. I have to say that many of the local villages have a bit more of the Carrefour tracksuit about them than Gallic chic, but with that comes a reassuring lack of nick-nack shops selling lavender bags, pottery and ludicrously expensive tapenade. Although I did, I’m almost ashamed to admit, have a bit of a lavender moment myself as you can see from my holiday purchases.

We managed a bit of beach time, some moules & frites and Imi found an ice cream shop with over 50  “parfums” …she went for the Cola (quite revolting, but then she could have gone for the terrifyingly turquoise Red Bull option). I’d definitely go to the port of Sète again, where we had fabulous Italian influenced seafood and quite the best scallop linguine that I’ve ever eaten, I’ll have a play around and give you a recipe very soon. But, rather predictably for me, the highlights of the holiday weren’t sight seeing or restaurant trips but mornings in the local markets collecting bits and pieces to eat for lunch in our shady little garden- nothing exotic just sauscisson- sec, cheese, pâté, olives, poulet rôti and very good bread. We gorged on local asparagus, radishes and strawberries and slung back PLENTY of  wine – The Languedoc region apparently produces more wine than the whole of Australia. And, I know that the French have often been a bit sniffy about rosé but there’s more and more of it produced and there’s nothing that screams holiday-in-the-sun quite so loudly for me.

I’d conveniently forgotten my bathing things for our river swimming excursion, although I did rig myself up a dodgy suit out of a sarong (pictures will not be published) but Imi swam and Peter did the lifeguard bit in the icy waters at Roquebron. The town is a magical place with a beautiful old bridge across the river, a sort of stony river-beach and a microclimate that allows oranges, lemons and plenty of Mediterranean plants to thrive despite the distance from the coast.

Once we finally sat down at Le Petit Nice Restaurant  over looking the river it was suprisingly hot and all I felt like eating was a salad . It’s years since I’ve had a Roquefort and walnut salad and it just reminded me that it really is a fabulous mix, the sheep’s cheese (which incidentally comes from the Languedoc too and could even be the elixir of life if you believe what you read ) is really sharp and salty so you don’t want much. You probably don’t need a recipe – but just in case? (and it does give me an excuse to have some for lunch)

Roquefort and Walnut Salad  ( for 2)

3-4 large handfuls of salad leaves – preferably including a bit of radicchio for some colour and a touch of bitterness.
150 g of walnut halves
150 g Roquefort cheese

For the dressing: 4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil, 1-2 tbsp red wine vinegar, 1 tsp Dijon mustard, 1/2 – 1 tsp honey, salt and black pepper

No rocket science required here- just shake up the dressing in a jar and balance it well, keeping in mind that the cheese is sharp and salty.

Toss the salad leaves around in a bowl with the dressing, then divide between the plates and sprinkle over the cheese and walnuts.

Suggestions- Now I did love the fact that the salad was SO very simple, and we Brits do often tend to overcomplicate things, but the salad would be very good indeed with
- Some smoked lardons and sourdough croutons (fried up in the bacon fat) -sprinkled over whilst warm.
- Ripe pear and a few chopped chives.
- Roasted beetroot, roasted red onions and a few cooked Puy lentils

And here we are enjoying our salad OUTSIDE in the English sunshine- birdies cheeping, bluebells out and Crab apple blossom on it’s way. You’ll be pleased to see that Peter is sporting some French holiday footwear (with socks of course!)

And, just in case you’re heading to The Languedoc anytime soon here were a few of my highlights-
Pézenas has a fabulous Saturday market, loads of giftee shopees but still a stunning town.
Sète was a real surprise for me,  a bustling port with loads of canals and bridges and really., really great seafood.
St Chinian has one of those dappled-shady market squares ( Thursday and Sunday market),  beautiful little back streets and very chilled atmosphere. A.O.C also home to some great red wines.
Roquebron – I’ve mentioned above and is really worth a visit (don’t forget your swimming things)

A Walk in the Woods, Wild Garlic Risotto & Other Stories

It felt as if it might rain at any moment  last Saturday but I was determined to collect my ramsons, as the wild garlic leaves are often known. In fact wild garlic has many common names such as wood garlic, buck rams, bear leek and even stinking Jenny (which sadly reminds me of my childhood nickname, Smelly Jenny, that was always banded about at Christmas when I just couldn’t leave the Stilton cheese alone) I’d been planning a trip to the woods ever since Jules asked me for some wild garlic recipes during a most fabulous dinner at Bell’s Diner a couple of weeks ago (there’s another blog post – I promise). So this post is for you Jules.

The damp air magnified all those incredible deeply earthy, vegetal smells of woodland and everything was so lush. The new beech leaves were that almost fluorescent green that lasts just a few weeks. Then, once we reached the sweeping carpet of wild garlic, the ground seemed an unnaturally vibrant shade of Pantone green, the sort of colour that Imi might paint a picture of a jungle. Old stone walls were blanketed in feathery moss, it was simply stunning and the waft of garlic almost overwhelming. The wild garlic is apparently an indicator of ancient woodland just like the bluebells that so often grow alongside – how amazing to think that this scene has probably changed so little over the centuries. It will be a picture here in a couple of weeks time too, with the white garlic flowers and the huge swathes of lilacy bluebells, but you’re best to pick the garlic now as the leaves do become more bitter as the season goes on.

I’m always dreaming of getting a dog, firstly because I adore them but also because they make you take the time out for a walk, and I just don’t do it often enough. The garlic hunt brought my friend Kate, me and our girls out into the woods on a day when you’d probably never have planned a stroll-  it seemed so gloomy and threatening and yet it was breathtaking. So get out there, come rain or shine, but do be a bit careful that you are picking garlic and not the rather similar Lily of the Valley. The smell will shout garlic at you and each leaf grows from a separate stalk where as the toxic Lily of the Valley leaves grow 2 or 3 leaves to a stem.

DSC_9617And what to do with your booty? I was planning on making and photographing a number of different dishes but I’m afraid we kept eating them before I got a chance to whip out the camera. The wild garlic leaves give a more chivey taste than the more familiar bulbs of garlic we buy all year round and I particularly love this flavour in anything  to do with eggs.
So here are a few ideas to set you on your way.

  • French Omelette- ( for 2) fry 1/2 a diced onion in a blend of olive oil and butter. Beat 4 eggs up with a splash of milk, pinch of salt and a handful of sliced wild garlic. Add the softened onions to the mix and then fry 1/2 of the mixture at a time in a small omelette pan. Grate over a little cheese such as mature cheddar as you are frying. (Don’t forget that omelettes are fab’ cold  in sandwiches – the Spanish do it all the time) Throw some into a Spanish tortilla with the potato or an Italian frittata with some courgettes and parmesan.
  • Scrambled Eggs – obvious but delicious all the same. Chop up a good handful of garlic leaves into ribbons and stir into the scrambled eggs for the last minute of cooking (just enough for the garlic to wilt.
  • Risotto- I’m being lazy but assuming that most of you probably have a basic risotto up your sleeve ( I should probably have done the same for the omelette!) Just stir a good handful of sliced ramsons (per 2 portions) into the rice a couple of minutes before you finish the cooking. I fried up my left over risotto the next day too…. Add a couple of eggs to the cold risotto to bind the mixture and throw in a bit of extra parmesan. Fry in a flat cake in your omelette pan, flip over using a plate and brown the other side too and serve with a tomato salad.
  • Pesto – Try substituting garlic leaves for the basil in a traditional pesto recipe. I like to make the pesto using Pecorino rather than Parmesan in this case. Don’t just use this for pasta, try it blobbed into soups or stews too.

I’m planning on coming up with a few more adventurous recipes over the next few weeks (Kate had a wonderful wild garlic bread and butter pudding in the Tyntesfield Café)  but I’m desperate to get this post off tonight and entice you into a bit of foraging whilst the garlic’s at its best.

And a little reminder to all you West Country-ites – there’s a BIG food festival happening in Bristol next month. I have a couple of classes here, on May 6th Eat your Way to a Healthier Lifestyle and May 7th  Spring into Summer. Take a peek at the full line up of events on the Bristol Food Connections website

Bristol Food Connections