Preserving the Autumn Equinox
By the time I've managed to write this post the Autumn Equinox will have passed but I did manage to mark this rare time of equilibrium between night and day and celebrate bringing home the harvest and start preparations for darker days and colder nights. Whilst the weather is still kind, we have been taking long walks at the weekend, exploring paths we have not been down before, discovering new things about the place we call home but miss in the rush of daily life. I go prepared, a few bags stuffed in pockets, a tub or two in my rucksack and find myself delayed by just-out-of-reach berries, an iridescent duck feather or the promise of mushrooms.
On one such walk we found a wild apple tree, heavy with large pale green apples, a perfect excuse for a break. On the edges of the river, I filled a bag with dusty purple sloes, from a bank of blackthorn festooned with lichen. Further on, I stuffed my rucksack with crab apples, trying a quick bite from one just to taste the mouth puckering sharpness. Blackberries were still everywhere, as were rose hips but the birds had stripped most of the elderberries from the trees. In addition to this bounty of wild fruit, my neighbour, a gardener, has popped by every few days with more bags of plums plus russet apples and crisp Conference pears, collected from the lawns of homeowners with too many on their hands.
Earlier in September I attended a lovely evening with John Wright of River Cottage fame, learning to make 'wild cocktails' in the Borough Market test kitchen. John is a wonderful host, generous and friendly with plenty of humorous tales on the perils of foraging. His recipes were definitely wild, homemade vermouth was fabulous but the revelation of the night had to be the sweet vernal grass vodka with the blackberry daiquiri and its orange and honey dusted glass being a close second. A finale of smoked sloe gin had everyone giggling and coughing in equal measures before we staggered home.
I was relieved to see that he is also another enthusiast with an alarming lack of proper labels on homemade produce and of inventing new recipes as a result!
Inspired by my evening in Borough Market and as a change to making jam I've used my Equinox harvest to make two bottles of sloe gin (with John's advice of leaving it for at least a year before drinking ringing in my ears). Half of the crab apples I picked I'm infusing in dark rum with a thumb of ginger and some honey, the other half I'm fermenting into wild crab apple cider vinegar. Any blackberries that didn't get eaten on the way back home, have been made into a blackberry vinegar. These fruit vinegars are fantastically versatile, a spoonful in a glass of water makes a rather lovely refreshing drink. I'll use the blackberry vinegar to give a sharp fruity kick over ice-cream as well as on winter salads. It's immensely satisfying to open the larder to bottles and jars of handpicked wild food, and spend a few minutes each day checking and gently shaking the infused spirits, exactly what the spirit of the Autumn Equinox is about. When the days are at their shortest and the nights are long and cold, I'll raise a glass of one of my wild infusions and toast Mother Nature in front of the fire. Cheers!
PS: Tomorrow I'm judging the drinks category of the Northamptonshire Food & Drink Awards, so there will be another drink related post in the coming days.
On one such walk we found a wild apple tree, heavy with large pale green apples, a perfect excuse for a break. On the edges of the river, I filled a bag with dusty purple sloes, from a bank of blackthorn festooned with lichen. Further on, I stuffed my rucksack with crab apples, trying a quick bite from one just to taste the mouth puckering sharpness. Blackberries were still everywhere, as were rose hips but the birds had stripped most of the elderberries from the trees. In addition to this bounty of wild fruit, my neighbour, a gardener, has popped by every few days with more bags of plums plus russet apples and crisp Conference pears, collected from the lawns of homeowners with too many on their hands.
Earlier in September I attended a lovely evening with John Wright of River Cottage fame, learning to make 'wild cocktails' in the Borough Market test kitchen. John is a wonderful host, generous and friendly with plenty of humorous tales on the perils of foraging. His recipes were definitely wild, homemade vermouth was fabulous but the revelation of the night had to be the sweet vernal grass vodka with the blackberry daiquiri and its orange and honey dusted glass being a close second. A finale of smoked sloe gin had everyone giggling and coughing in equal measures before we staggered home.
I was relieved to see that he is also another enthusiast with an alarming lack of proper labels on homemade produce and of inventing new recipes as a result!
Inspired by my evening in Borough Market and as a change to making jam I've used my Equinox harvest to make two bottles of sloe gin (with John's advice of leaving it for at least a year before drinking ringing in my ears). Half of the crab apples I picked I'm infusing in dark rum with a thumb of ginger and some honey, the other half I'm fermenting into wild crab apple cider vinegar. Any blackberries that didn't get eaten on the way back home, have been made into a blackberry vinegar. These fruit vinegars are fantastically versatile, a spoonful in a glass of water makes a rather lovely refreshing drink. I'll use the blackberry vinegar to give a sharp fruity kick over ice-cream as well as on winter salads. It's immensely satisfying to open the larder to bottles and jars of handpicked wild food, and spend a few minutes each day checking and gently shaking the infused spirits, exactly what the spirit of the Autumn Equinox is about. When the days are at their shortest and the nights are long and cold, I'll raise a glass of one of my wild infusions and toast Mother Nature in front of the fire. Cheers!
PS: Tomorrow I'm judging the drinks category of the Northamptonshire Food & Drink Awards, so there will be another drink related post in the coming days.
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