It's autumn, there's saffron

Exactly a year to the day since I noticed our first crop of saffron poking their little heads out of the raised beds down the hill, the first flowers are again starting to appear.

At the same time, white topped mushrooms have appeared in the lawn.

There has been lots of rain and a drop in temperature ... triggering this new seasonal growth.

We harvested heaps of mushrooms, cooked them in the oven and froze them to use in the future.

Ones we harvest in coming days we'll use immediately.

Meanwhile, the olives are starting to colour ... changing from green to deep purple.

The last of the big tomatoes are preparing to ripen.

I love to see how the potager (vegetable garden) changes with the seasons.

Lamb and quince tajine

Today it got up to 30 degrees, for what might be the last throw of summer.

I spent the afternoon by the pool. The water temperature was 17 degrees.

It was refreshing to dive in.

After each dip, the warm sun felt good on my watery skin.

Yesterday I cooked dinner ... something I rarely do these days. Cliona is queen of the kitchen.

I made a Moroccan lamb and quince tajine, accompanied by Yotam Ottolenghi's version of tabbouleh.

I was thrilled to be able to use some of my home-grown ingredients (mainly herbs) for this dinner.

The tajine recipe comes from Waitrose. It differs a little bit from the traditional recipe I first tasted in a lamp-lit room in a remote farmhouse, east of Fes, on the road to Algeria, in July, 1976.

I fell in love with that dish and have tried to recreate it on many occasions since.

On Thursday, I went to the Moroccan butcher shop near St Livrade sur Lot to buy some lamb to go with the quinces we'd got from a friend.

I printed off an internet recipe and assembled all my ingredients on the bunker.

In this photo you can see lamb chops, quinces, onion, fresh ginger, garlic, ground coriander, cumin, cayenne pepper, cinnamon, saffron (home grown), salt and pepper.

I browned the lamb in butter.

I removed the meat and added spices, onion and stock to the casserole and cooked for a few minutes, then returned the meat to the dish.

I peeled the sliced the quince, then boiled them for a while in water/lemon juice to which I'd added some honey. Then, I sauteed the quince in butter, with more honey, to sort of caramelise the fruit and attenuate the quince's innate, bitter flavour.

After slow-cooking for 90 minutes, I added the cooked quince and fresh coriander (home-grown).

We'd bought a rich loaf from the local bakery.

It was ready to serve.

A 2012 blend of Grenache and Syrah from the Cotes du Rhone accompanied the meal.

I used heaps of my own parsley, mint and tomato for the tabbouleh.

It was a pretty good dinner .... even if I say so myself.

seeing beauty all around

As the summer comes to an end, there is much that is beautiful and much that is good ... a sunset, a bunch of ripened grapes, a gorgeous dessert in a local restaurant.

And visits from good friends remembered ...

home cooking

I am constantly amazed at what Cliona can rustle up for dinner, especially using herbs, fruit and veggies from the garden.

Last night was a case in point.

On the bbq we had leg lamb steaks brushed with olive oil, salt and pepper.

This was accompanied by two delicious salads.

The first comprised roasted peppers and aubergines. Cliona removed their charred skins and sliced their soft flesh. She added feta cheese, mint and parsley, then dressed the salad with cherry vinegar and olive oil.

The second was based around haloumi cheese fried in a mixture of olive oil and za'atar (a Middle East seasoning). To this was added cherry tomatoes and a pomegranate molasses dressing.

Boiled new potatoes had been steam-dried and mixed with steamed haricots blancs (white string beans), dressed with a lemon, honey, mustard and oil mixture and finished with finely chopped spring onion.

The steaks were augmented by lambs' kidneys in a creamy, rich, dijonnaise sauce.

We opened a bottle of Pomeral Merlot/Cabernet Franc but it was too young and a disappointment.

Dessert was a home-made tart tartin aux poires (pear tart) with caramelised sugar, served with vanilla ice cream.

The produce I harvested from the garden ...

pears
tomatoes
potatoes
mint and
parlsey.

I am growing aubergines, peppers and chillis but they are not yet ready to pick.

Reflecting on last night's alfresco dinner, by the garden, lamp-lit and cooled by a breeze that brushed the leafy canopy of the mulberry trees, I pose the question .... Who needs to go out and spend money in a restaurant when eating at home is this good?

A mid-August day at Ellesmere

It started with a half-hour on the cross trainer.

This was hard, as I'd done virtually no exercise for three weeks.

That done, I watered the potted plants and the veggies in the raised beds, a task I perform early in the morning before the heat of the day.

Breakfast was two croissants with home-made marmalade ... and two mugs of coffee.

Cliona went off to pick plums at our friends Herb and Carols' place. She came home two hours later with 20 kilos of Damsons. She'll use them to make plum membrillo and chutney, lots of chutney.

When she got home, we noticed more tell-tale dust on the floor under the antique sideboard. I applied copious quantities of wood-worm poison and opened all the doors and windows.

Back in the barn, I cleaned the grass from the underside of the ride-on mower as layers had built up over many weeks.

Then, it was off to the recycling bins down at Bazens ... with a big load of stuff that included a ton of bottles from a debauched family visit.

Grass grows quickly with this weather so it was time to mow the lawn around the pool.

After hitching the trailer to the car I drove over to Prayssas, just eight minutes down the D118, to see Laurent at his horse stables.

He helped me load the trailer with aged hay from a large pile in his paddock ... a perfect mulch rich in organic fertiliser.

This is pitch-fork work and it raised a sweat. Back home, I off-loaded the hay into one of my compost bays, made out of pallets. More sweat.

The Sir Charles Litton Memorial Pool is what I call the reward. Its surface shone brilliantly like teal-coloured glass. Water was cold, but sun was warm. Clouds were like whisps of smoke across a cerulean sky.

Swimming, sunbaking and reading under the parasol whiled away the time. Then it was back to the garden.

I had buried coriander seeds in two planter boxes filled with manure-rich soil. It was now time to gently remove the new seedlings and transfer them, with equal care, into compost-filled pots.

I had collected 50 or so seeds from a failed attempt to grow this fragrant herb in the stone garden. The plants had bolted almost immediately ... due to the early summer heat. Unlike the hardier parsley, which continues to flourish in tough conditions.

By now the angled rays of the sun were streaming in from the west.

This is the best part of the day, sitting with an ice-cold beer and a bowl of home-grown, home-cured olives, on my favourite garden bench, in the shade of the massive lime tree.

A breeze had sprung up and was sending helicopter seeds rotating earthward around me. The sound of the rustling branches reminded me of the beach, with the whoosh of retreating waves over sand.

It is satisfying work in the garden of Ellesmere, but the quiet contemplation of what has been achieved is even more enjoyable.

Fources

We drove an hour south into the Gers department to visit the medieval town of Fources.

It is an enchanting, circular village, wrapping itself around a cool, green square of plane trees.

There were intriguing little side-streets of columbage (half-timbered) houses and pretty flower boxes.

A 13th century clock-tower dominates.

Summer in the South-West

The French emerge from their winter ensconcement to revel in summer life.

They frequent their local night markets (village food stalls with music).

They gather for long Sunday lunches ... beneath shady trees.

They are out in their potagers (veggie patches) and their flower gardens ... all the colours of the  rainbow.

They go to the beach, or into their pools, to seek refuge from the waves of heat.

They flock to cultural and music events.

So here at Ellesmere, we do what the French do ... enjoying those summer rituals that make life so pleasant.

tomatoes, eggplant, peppers and basil

the gardener's reward 

ready for Sunday lunch

a summer ritual