The Bedford Arms, Oakley, Bedfordshire

My parents’ house is stranded in a restaurant desert. Our two village pubs are fine for a pint but less so if you’re feeling like something more substantial than a sandwich. And the pubs in our surrounding villages don’t have much more going for them either. So when we heard that the Bedford Arms in Oakley had gone all posh we wasted all of 35 minutes before heading out for a big family lunch.

It’s been decorated with far more extravagance than we had anticipated. If you have shares in Farrow and Ball I suspect you may be in for a bigger dividend than you had hoped for. Behind the bar sits an impressive range of booze including the rather incongruous sight of Crystal champagne tastefully dressed up in its Quality Street orange wrapper. And on the walls hang blackboards offering a jaw droppingly impressive array of fish including lobster which brought up a rather grating memory…

On a similar family outing 3 years ago, we drove off to Norfolk for a family day of East Anglian gardens, scenery and countryside. I was explicitly told that the pub we were going to for lunch specialized in lobster, so I spent the 3 hours of being thrown around the back of the car working myself up into a lather of shellfish induced fantasies. Anyone who has had the misfortune of traveling either left or right in Britain, rather than up or down, will know that for some reason it tends to induce immediate car sickness. So my ecstasy was even more remarkable.

When I found out that they hadn’t got any lobsters for lunch I felt cheated and vowed to never be lured into a long range wild goose chase ever again. The memory lingers and flashes back whenever we go for a family lunch.

Cut back to the Bedford Arms.

We all got very trigger happy and mowed down the waitress with our orders in a burst of hysterical hunger.

My mussels in garlic, white wine and cream sauce were as plump as American school children, but the wine hadn’t been cooked off quite long enough. Not to the extent that they tasted unpleasant, but not quite as awesome as they could have been. And I am never sure whether you really need to add cream either.

Cowie’s scallops were exceptionally good. The cooking was so precisely you’d be forgiven for thinking the chef must have been a Japanese plastic surgeon in a former life. The red topping added a sweet touch that made them taste even more of themselves.

Dad’s white pudding, Parma ham and mozzarella on a pancake had him purring away like a reconditioned Bentley. With his low carb diet it was as if they had designed it just for him.

My rich fish pie was almost perfect. It was depth charged with a couple of shoals of fish and was exactly what I wanted. The only improvement would have been a bolder golden top.

Cowie’s turbot with mussels and prawns with a creamy sauce was very decadent. Whilst it was delicious, it seemed a shame to hide such an amazing fish under so many other flavours.

Dad’s lobster salad was mainly lobster. Which is an excellent thing. Being the lobster purist that he is, he poo-pooed the salad and potatoes and just stuck with a wedge of lemon and a glass of white wine. It brought memories of driving around 90 degree bends in the middle of Nowhereshire churning back to me.

Mum’s garlic and chilli prawns looked every bit as opulent.

Sadly, the desserts were a disaster. As the chocolate mousse was placed in front of me the sight of a paper doily I grimaced with chintz fueled horror. As I shuddered the mousse stayed still as it was set solid. I won’t bore you with the taste, but it wasn’t good.

And a lemon cheesecake tasted about as real as Jodie Marsh and was every bit as unpalatable.

Overall, we loved our lunch despite the occasional slip up, but could have done without the brusque performance from the owner who acted very strangely as he walked off mid conversation with us about the desserts.

If you’re looking for something a bit more than you’re average lunch time pub baguette in the North Bedfordshire countryside and fancy some nice fish then the Bedford Arms is worth a go. Whilst it was very good for the area it makes you really appreciate places like The Hole in the Wall, The Gurnard’s Head and The Horse Guards Inn even more. Just fill up on starters and main courses and avoid pudding. And watch your Ps and Qs with the boss!

The Bedford Arms
High Street
Oakley
Bedfordshire
MK43 7RH

Casual 50 Mile Cycle for Lunch at the Hole in the Wall in Cambridgeshire

At 8am on Easter Saturday when most sane people are safely tucked up in bed dreaming of not doing very much and about to tuck into a leisurely breakfast, Cowie and I set off on a 50 mile bike ride in search of lunch. We left my parents’ house near Bedford and headed east to Cambridgeshire. I’d been convinced by Cowie that it was going to be far easier than our previous trips because everything is downhill to Cambridge.

We zoomed through Bedford and romped towards the A1 where we had a fairly hairy moment crossing the A1! So far so flat. Then as we left Sandy what appeared to be East Anglia’s tallest mountain loomed in front of us. Within moments I had dropped into my lowest gear and was panting like a shaggy dog in the sunshine. But when we got to the top of the green sands ridge the view was epic. The trees had changed from deciduous to coniferous and the air seemed clearer.

We were blessed with glorious weather that belied the predictions by the met office and arrived in a small village called Little Wilbraham spot on 1 o’clock. We felt very smug, exhausted and ravenous as we waited for the Brown-brigade to arrive.

The Hole in the Wall is featured in Diana Henry’s Gastro Pub Cookbook, that has become our bible. It has almost always been spot on with its recommendations and this time was no exception. It has also has recently been awarded a Michelin Bib. The pub is run by Jenny and Chris Leeton who pride themselves on the pub’s friendly atmosphere, wooden beams, fabulous beer and proper pub food. Even though the menu was tragically truncated due to a serious traffic accident, we had a great meal. The short menu didn’t let us down.

After a restorative few pints of lime and soda water and a pint of local ale, we ordered pretty much everything on the menu!

The shrimps were served slightly warm and tasted every bit as good, if not better, than the ones I’ve previously had at The Anchor and Hope.

Those who had the soufflé groaned and only very reluctantly offered me a nibble. It was perfect balance of flavour and texture with a walnut sauce that added an extra dimension. And for my parents who are trying to avoid carbs at the moment, it was a great treat to find such a dish on a pub menu.

When my steak and kidney pie arrived I let out a little squeak of delight. After 50 miles of cycling it was just what I needed. The pastry flaked like an anorexic Hollywood star and yielded to reveal a scaldingly hot meaty goo. Tender beef and perfectly cooked kidney mingled with a thick beery liquor that kept me quiet for at least 10 minutes. I often find kidney a bit overpowering, but not this time. Having been away from the UK for three weeks this pie captured the spirit of the English food that I’ve been missing. The bacon and spinach on the side was terrific. As was the silky parsnip mash.

Dad’s sausages with onion gravy and broccoli tasted good, as did Cowie’s scrambled eggs with smoked salmon.

By this point I’d normally be feeling pretty full and very unlikely to order pudding. But with 4 hours of cycling in the bank I unshackled my greed and let it take over…

Sticky toffee bread and butter pudding with butterscrotch sauce is not going to win me any prizes from anyone in the medical world, although I might make me a contender for a Darwin Award. It was stodgy, sweet, gungy, and so naughty it should have been made to stand in the corner. What a pudding.

Cowie’s pavlova with passionfruit sorbet was delicious. Tart, sweet and light. Just like a wannabe pop star.

And Suz’s treacle tart with toffee ice cream was great too. It had been made with milled oats, which gave it a coarse but satisfying texture. Not that I could even manage any more than the smallest mouthful!

For many reasons that are far beyond the scope of this blog, this meal was incredibly heart warming. It’s a lunch that I won’t forget for a long time. As we drove back home I felt overcome with happiness. And it made me realise the importance of family, how much I enjoy our amazing cycle trips, the joy of the British countryside and just how good proper British pub food can be. It’s definitely true, distance makes the heart grow fonder.

2 High Street, Little Wilbraham, Cambs CB21 5JY.
Tel 01223 812282
www.the-holeinthewall.com

Further reading:

Diana Henry’s Gastro Pub Cookbook on Amazon
Diana Henry’s Gastro Pub Cookbook Another Helping on Amazon
The Hole in the Wall on Square Meal
More cycling adventures

Home Cured Gravadlax

Whenever I pick up HF-W’s Fish book, I’m always drawn, as if by osmosis, towards the smoking and curing section. Hugh gets very excited about Gravadmax, but given that we had a beautiful salmon it would have been a crime not to do the proper version. Ever since we had some amazing gravadlax at the Dorchester Grill, I’ve wanted to make it myself.

Apparently gravadlax started in Scandinavia as a way of preserving the seasonal glut of salmon. They buried the fish in the sand at the high tide mark with dill, salt, pine needles and an array of other locally prevalent herbs and then removed it days, weeks or months later after it had fermented. The technique has since evolved away from pine needles and fermentation towards a more elegant solution involving pressure, salt, sugar and dill. Loosely translated the “grav” bit means to bury in a grave and the “lax” means salmon. Luckily “gravadlax” sounds a lot better than “decayed salmon”.

Season your salmon on both sides with copious amounts of good quality salt. Then sprinkle with a few spoons of sugar. Then empty an entire jar of dill into the equation and cover the whole fish like a crazed Viking (shamefully we didn’t have any fresh dill). Say a couple of prayers to Thor and then slip the fish into a freezer bag. Pop this in a flat bottomed ceramic dish and then stack your heaviest cooking books on top to squish it down.

Pop it in your larder, or failing that, fridge and turn the fish over every 12 hours or so. Some juice should leach out and after 3 days you’ll be rewarded with some sensationally cured fish. You can leave it for longer if you like a stronger cure.

I cast my mind back to our meal at the Dorchester Grill and remembered the way our charming waiter had carved the gravadlax at our table side.

Inspired by him, I sliced the fish on a slight angle with a super sharp knife and presented it in a rosette with a cup of mustard and dill spiked crème fraiche.

With a glass of shimmering Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc it was every bit as good as the tea smoked salmon we devoured the day before. And even if I do say so myself, as good as the Dorchester.

Smoking is Good For You: Orange PeokoeTea Smoked Salmon

Don’t tell Cowie, but I love smoked salmon. I get it from my grandfather who grumpily protests like Father Jack when the meal starts without a few slithers of tulip pink, oily smoked fish, anointed with a drop of lemon and befriended by a slice or two of buttered brown bread. Sadly, we’re all banned from the joy of freshly ground pepper in his presence because it makes him sneeze.

So in the interests of experimentation and as a sneaky way of getting around the need for pepper, I decided to have a blast at hot smoking my own salmon over some tea leaves as the opening gambit to our Christmas day feast. Luckily Mum had picked up a quiveringly fresh side of salmon from the fishmonger, so my task was an exciting one. I decided to smoke half of it and make gravadlax with the other.

For someone who doesn’t smoke, I’ve done a fair amount of smoking. Albeit of the edible variety. Cowie gave me a smoker as a present a couple of years ago, so I’ve had a bit of practice. Our main successes have been with smoked trout and with tea smoked duck. Both dishes employ the hot smoking method which not only cooks the food in the heat, but also cures it with the mysteriously alchemic qualities of the wafty smoke. When done right you are left with moist flesh and the irresistible flavour of fire.

Whilst everyone was watching soporific Christmas Eve telly, I got busy with the salmon. First heavily season the fish on both sides and remove any pin bones. Some people suggest brining, but I found it works fine if you skip this step. Place the fish on a pyrex dish that will fit inside the dish that is going to act as your smoker. Then line your mother’s finest Le Creuset casserole dish with two layers of thick foil. Cover the foil in tea leaves. I used Orange Pekoe which I had brought back from India, but I suspect any old tea leaves will do. Then throw in a couple of spoonfuls of rice, a sprinkling of sugar and a blob of honey. This will get the smoke kicked off.

Next it’s time for some Blue Peter improvisation. Scrunch up three balls of foil and position them in the bottom of the pan to act as supports for the plate or pyrex bowl that your salmon is sitting on. You need the gap between the base of the pan and the pyrex dish to allow the smoke to billow.

Then place your smoking vessel on the hob and get the tea leaves smoking. Once the feathers of smoke are smoldering consistently place the pyrex dish on the three foil feet and whack on the lid. If it doesn’t fit perfectly then you’re in trouble. So have some kit handy to improvise.

Keep the heat high for the first 10 minutes and then turn the heat down and smoke for a further 15 minutes. This is all quite trial and error so you might want to have a peak after 20 minutes has elapsed and then take a call on how much further your want to take it. My preference is for the fish to still be moist and rare in the middle, but I imagine some would get squeamish about it.

One precaution you should take is to make sure you’ve closed all the doors leading out of your kitchen to the rest of the house and opened all the windows to mitigate against smoking the rest of the family out. When the big moment came to check on the salmon, I decided to take it outside into snow and was delighted to see that the smoke had worked its magic.

The flesh was translucently moist yet cooked. I let out an embarrassing fist pump in triumph, which was sadly witnessed by my sister, before popping it in the fridge and collapsed in front of the telly.

On Christmas Day, I simply whipped up a crème fraiche and lemon dressing and served it in rosy pink wedges with a small salad and a glass of top class Grüner Veltliner.

It was a wonderful start to our meal and one of the most satisfying things I’ve done this year. The highlight was the way the fish teased apart like the indented divisions in a posh dictionary and the support from the dazzlingly alive wine had us all purring as loudly as our rather talkative Siamese cat.

For a more in depth guide to hot and cold smoking get your hands on Hugh F-W’s brilliant Fish book or have a butchers at this site.

Scallop Risotto with Rosemary Petals & Fennel Flowers

When I go home to see my parents I always look forward to cooking with our Aga and using goodies from our garden. Mum’s herb garden is brimming with interesting varieties of thyme, numerous types of basil, umpteen varieties of rosemary and different gradations of sage. And Dad’s orchard is normally heaving with a range of apples, pears, medlars, quinces, plums, greengages and crab-apples, with mulberries, apricots and nectarines planned for the future. And that’s before you get into the issue of which mushrooms are edible, let alone which flowers you might want to scatter into a salad or use as a garnish.

I wondered long and hard about telling you about our amazing scallop risotto because I’ve banged on about them a lot in the past. But this one is worth it because it featured the subtle floral flourish of rosemary flowers and fennel blossom.

Simply fry 3 small onions in butter and olive oil. After 5 minutes add 500 grams of risotto rice. Listen to it crackle and then tip in a third of a bottle of white wine. Once this has almost dried up add your first ladle of chicken stock whilst stirring slowly. Keep doing this until the rice is tender (after around 30 minutes). Then add a mug of frozen peas and 300 grams of queen scallops. Cook for 4 minutes and then add some spinach which will wilt in the heat of the rice. Stir in some butter, season and allow to rest for a few minutes.

Serve with a garnish of purple rosemary flowers and honey coloured fennel flowers which taste of aniseed. The floral notes added a very subtle layer of flavours and interest that transformed this from just being a scallop risotto into a memory that will linger forever.

Ham Hockusai

To say my parents are keen gardeners would be like saying that Prince Phillip is a trifle conservative. Mum writes gardening books and is a garden designer. Dad spends every second he’s not at work in his overalls doing as Mum says…

Our garden has developed over the 20 years we’ve lived there from being a bunch of fields into a gallery of different artistic rooms . Mum and Dad have created amazing garden rooms inspired by Hepworth, Monet, Rothko, Mondrian, Kandinsky and Hokusai.

It’s a very lateral approach to gardening that oozes creativity. The idea is not to copy or try to replicate the art/painting but to capture the mood and the concept behind it and express it as a three dimensional piece of living, breathing art that might otherwise be called a garden!

So I thought it would be a good idea to pick up where Mum, Dad and Hokusai left off and create a dish that’s inspired by an artist. And when I picked up a cheap as chips ham hock in Waitrose I couldn’t resist creating a dish called Ham Hockusai.

Feeling excited and bubbling over like a glass that’s full to the brim with water and then is depth charged with Berocca, I sought help on Twitter. Lizzie came to my help and suggested braising the pork hock in a mixture of soy, ginger and mirin. We used this as inspiration to create what might otherwise be called a ham hock ramen…

Trim your ham hock. Because you are going to slow cook it you don’t want too much fat floating around. Then put your hock in the slow cooker (AKA Stewie Grifin) and pour in half a bottle of light soy, a sachet of miso soup powder, and enough stock to cover the hock. Then throw in some spring onions, a generous amount of root ginger, 2 star anise, a few chillies and a glug of sake and mirin. Turn on the slow cooker and allow it to bubble away for 5 hours, or until the meat yields.

Then separate the meat from the liquid. Set the meat aside and strain the liquid to remove the floating vegetation. This liquid is like gold dust, so don’t spill any like I did!

Pour the liquid into a pan and place on the heat. Meanwhile, pull the pork apart and keep nearby. Heat a wok and make a stir fry of enoki and shitake mushrooms, pak-choi, beansprouts, garlic, ginger and more chilli. Then add the meat to heat through.

Add some ramen noodles to the broth and once they are soft assemble your Ham Hockusai in a large soup bowl and garnish with sesame seeds and spring onions. I did my best to recreate the Great Wave off Kanagawa but gravity got the better of my noodles!

This has no pretention of being the most authentic Japanese dish. But it was not only huge fun to cook, but incredibly tasty and healthy to eat. The depth of flavour from the stock just kept on going. The pork itself was a delight. It transformed from being tough, flabby and generally being a bit like a tight-head prop into a graceful winger.

Next time, we’re going to cook Ham Hockney – I’m just less sure how to cook it. If you’ve got any suggestions about how to make a piggy David Hockney dish or any other artist inspired recipe I’d love to know.

Have a look at Mum’s website and blog to find out more about the garden. It’s open to the public a handful of times a year and you can also book for private groups.

Mothering Sunday Tea with Hannah & Chilli-Chocolate Brownie Disaster

Like a diligent and loving son I headed back to the ranch for Mothering Sunday, safe in the knowledge that I was in for a feast. Whenever we see Hannah we know we’re not going to go hungry – as you’ll see from the links below.

BBQ on the bales
Hannah’s epic afternoon tea
Christmas Eve with Hannah
Cowie’s Brownies for Hannah

This isn’t going to be a long post. Just a brief pictorial summary in honour of the lost art of afternoon tea. Enjoy the slide show.

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

The highlight of the spread wasn’t the first bite of Jane’s incredible scones with clotted cream, or Mum’s amazing violet and lemon cake. No the highlight was my disastrous foray into interfering with Cowie’s (now sacred) brownie recipe. I thought it would be a good idea to add some chilli chocolate sauce to the mix. But I failed to check the sauce I used resulting in Cowie’s, normally amazing, brownies tasting more of curry than chocolate.

On closer inspection of the jar it turned out that the sauce I had haphazardly lobbed in was actually actually a sauvory sauce for use in Mexican moles! DISASTER! I had single handedly ruined Mother’s Day. Or so Dad said. And then Hannah broke down crying and I feared the worst… but they were happy tears. None of us have eaten anything this nasty in a long time and it was hilarious. Take it from me. The brownies below may look delicious.

But because I used this stuff. They tasted gross!

Hannah. It was great to see you. I hope the Aga gets better soon!

Our New Apple Press

Dad gave Mum an amazing apple press for Christmas from a company called Vigo. It can cope with 12 litres of apples at a time and is a great way of making the most of our orchard. Every autumn it’s such a shame for us to waste so many lovely apples. They just land up being eaten by birds or getting squished into the grass and acting as a fruity mulch!

Dad has recently become moderately obsessed by Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall and is always super keen to show me how hot his compost is. We’ve now got plans for an asparagus bed and have just planted a handful of truffle trees. I am really keen for our orchard to evolve and am delighted that we have now got a quince, medlar, nectarine and apricot tree. So in a few years time we’ll be able to make some amazing jellies, pastes and jams. I got the bug for jellies when I made crab apple and chili jelly last year.

So on Boxing Day, Dad and I decided to make the most of Mum’s present! Having gathered the final apples that were clinging to our twiggy trees…

… we gave them a rinse and then fed them into apple mincer…

Once we’d mashed the first batch up we then pressed them and were thrilled to see loads of frothy golden juice spontaneously erupt from the press.

From our two pressings we were rewarded with around 4 or 5 litres of delicious, golden apple juice. It was sweet and cold with a slight edge of tartness.

Dad carted the pulp off to his precious compost heap whist I nipped indoors to warm up and quench my thirst.

Later in the day we made some Courvoisier and apple juice cocktails which were quite a hit…. even with my grandfather who claims that apple juice gives him a bad stomach!

We’ve got great plans for our apple pressing enterprise… at our garden’s autumn open days we’re going to be selling our own apple juice and hosting a “press your own” juice stand which should be really fun. If anyone has got any advice on how to preserve the juice naturally we’d love to hear from you!

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

Mum’s Gardening Blog

Regular readers will know a bit about my Mum because every now and again she gets a mention… She’s great at making ice bowls.

And is a star in the world of garden design and edible flowers. Last month she was on Gardeners’ World demonstrating how to cook with flowers for instance.

Also her adventure with Hannah was a huge success too. Who can resist floral cupcakes?

And for Mum’s birthday this year we had the most amazing edible flower experience at Roussillon.

But what I am most proud of is Mum’s blogging. She’s taken to it like a duck to water and is now writing brilliant articles about the garden, edible flowers and most excitingly the fascinating world of garden art.

So jump over to Mum’s blog and have a gander. Please welcome her to the blogosphere and offer her some encouragement! I’m worried that she’s going to put my humble blogging to shame!

Poisonous and Tasty Mushrooms at Stevington

It’s Autumn and I’ve got a semi about all the fun fungus growing in the hedgerows. Little outcrops of joy. Wondering around our garden I only found a few mushrooms… Dad was far more successful. As he was mowing the grass he kept on unearthing more mushrooms. Here’s a selection of the tastiest and most deadly…

This first set smelt nicely of aniseed. I am relatively confident that they are field mushrooms… or possibly horse mushrooms.. either way I am pretty sure they would have been edible and tasty too. I never plucked up confidence to eat them… and found that they were riddled with little insects which had eaten a fine matrix of little holes.

The second set of shrooms were even more exciting. Dad yelled and I ran out. He’d found a green mushroom growing beneath a cherry tree. The more we looked the more we found. Within 10 minutes we’d found bucket loads. They were all thriving in the mulch all over the garden. Excited at the prospect of an adventurous free lunch.

As you can see they were a weird green colour and covered in white specks… enough to make me refer to a proper text book.

I am glad I did because it turned out these green bad boys were poisonous, called Vedigris Agaric. Thank God I didn’t fry them up and serve them on toast!