September recipe: Plum chutney

Plum chutney ingredients

Plums are abundant in August and September in most years.  They can be preserved in jam (recipe for plum jam here).  Plums also make an excellent chutney.  This recipe uses plums and windfall apples, and makes two large jars.

Plum chutney

1.5 lb (approx 700 g) plums, after removing the stones

12 oz (approx 350 g) apples, after preparing

8 oz (approx 250 g) onions

4 oz (approx 100 g) raisins

8 oz (approx 250 g) demerara sugar

0.5 pint (approx 300 ml) malt vinegar

0.5 teaspoon (0.5 x 5 ml spoon) ground cinnamon

0.5 teaspoon (0.5 x 5 ml spoon) ground ginger

0.5 teaspoon (0.5 x 5 ml spoon) ground mixed spice

0.5 teaspoon (0.5 x 5 ml spoon) salt

Wash the plums.  Remove the stones, and chop the plums into pieces of the size you would like to find in the finished chutney. I aim for pieces roughly 0.5 – 1 cm (0.25 – 0.5 inch) cubed.

Peel and core the apples.  If using windfalls, cut out any bruised areas.  Chop into pieces of the size you would like to find in the finished chutney.

Peel and chop the onions.

Put the chopped fruit and vegetables into a large saucepan, along with the raisins, sugar, vinegar, salt and spices.

Bring to the boil.

Simmer, stirring from time to time, until the fruit and vegetables are soft and the chutney has thickened.  I test for this by drawing a wooden spoon through the chutney. If the bottom of the pan is visible before the chutney flows back into the gap, I consider the chutney done.  This stage normally takes about 45 minutes for me; it may vary depending on your pan and cooker.

Remove the pan from the heat.

Pour the chutney into clean glass jars. I find the easiest way to do this is to pour the chutney into a heatproof jug first, then use the jug to fill the jars.

Seal the jars immediately. I use cling film and a screw-top lid, preferably a plastic lid as chutney will eventually corrode a metal lid.

Store in a cupboard for three months or so to allow the flavour to develop before eating.  The chutney will store for several years provided the seal stays intact.

September recipe: Autumn pudding

This is a variant on the traditional summer pudding, which I make with blackcurrants in season (see recipe here). By September the season for most of the summer berries is over. However, in most years there are blackberries in the hedgerows, and cooking apples start to ripen about now. Apple and blackberry is a traditional combination in hot puddings such as fruit pies and crumbles. So I decided to try it in a variation of summer pudding, before the temperatures drop and the nights draw in, and found that it worked very well.  Here’s the recipe.

A good autumn (or summer) pudding needs decent white bread – I’m afraid blotting-paper sliced white just doesn’t cut it.  I included a recipe for white bread in the summer pudding recipe here.

Like summer pudding, autumn pudding itself contains no fat if you use my bread recipe (apart from the very small amount in the flour), so you’re entitled to a free hand with the cream.

Autumn pudding (serves 6)

12 oz (approx. 350 g) blackberries

12 oz (approx. 350 g) cooking apples, after peeling and coring

6 oz (approx. 150 g) sugar

Approx. 4 fl. oz (approx 120 ml) apple juice

8 oz (approx 250 g) good-quality white bread, a day old

Pouring cream to serve

Wash the blackberries. If you picked them wild out of a hedge, evict the spiders, beetles and other startled wildlife.

Peel and core the cooking apples, and chop them roughly.

Put the chopped apple, apple juice and sugar in a saucepan and simmer for 15-20 minutes until the apples are soft. Add the blackberries and simmer another 3-4 minutes.  Remove from heat.

Cut the bread into slices about 0.25-0.5 inch thick (about 0.5-1 cm thick).

Cut a piece from one slice to fit the bottom of a 2 pint (approx. 1 litre) pudding basin.  Reserve enough bread slices to cover the top of the pudding basin, and put them to one side.

Cut the remaining slices into fingers and fit them around the sides of the basin.  Cut off any bread that sticks out above the top of the basin.  Fill in any gaps with small pieces of bread.  Some people find it easier to dip the bread in the blackberry and apple mix first, as this helps it to adhere to the sides of the basin and gives it an even colour. 

Pour in the fruit and sugar mixture.  It doesn’t matter whether it’s still hot or has cooled down.

Cover the top of the fruit mixture with the reserved slices of bread.

Put a small saucer or plate on top, ideally one that is just a little smaller than the top of the pudding basin. Weight it down with something heavy.  I use a plastic milk carton full of water, which weighs about 1.25 lb (approx 600 g), and this seems to work quite well.

Stand the weighted pudding overnight in the fridge, on a plate or tray just in case any juices spill out.

Next day, serve the pudding cut into wedges, with plenty of cream to pour over it.  If you’re feeling really confident, you can turn the pudding out onto a plate before serving it.  I generally just scoop the servings out of the pudding basin.

Any left over will keep in the fridge for several days, though once cut it will start to collapse (and it would therefore be a good idea to leave it in the basin, rather than turning it out, if you’re intending to eat it over several days).

It won’t freeze, though you can make it with frozen fruit.

I usually expect to get six to eight portions out of this quantity, but it depends how big a portion you like.

September recipe: Plum sponge pudding

Late plums, such as the variety Marjorie’s Seedling, are still in season in September, and make excellent puddings. Plum sponge pudding is simple and delicious, and can be eaten hot or cold according to the weather. Here’s the recipe:

Plum sponge pudding

1 lb oz (approx 450 g) plums
4 oz (approx 100 g) sugar
4 oz (approx 100 g) butter
4 oz (approx 100 g) self-raising flour
2 eggs


Halve and stone the plums.

Grease a heatproof dish and put the plums in the bottom. The fruit should come no more than halfway up the sides of the dish, or the juices may boil over during cooking.

Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.

Beat in the eggs.

Stir in the flour, and mix thoroughly until smooth. It should just drop off the spoon.

Spread the sponge mixture over the plums.

Bake in a hot oven at around 180 C for 25-30 minutes until the sponge is risen and golden brown. Some of the plum juice will probably bubble up through the sponge during cooking.

Serve hot or cold with cream, ice-cream, natural yoghurt or custard.

If there is any left over, it will keep in an airtight container for two or three days at room temperature.

I usually expect to get about 6 portions out of this recipe.

September recipe: Ratatouille

This is a delectable vegetable stew that makes full use of late summer vegetables – sweet peppers, courgettes, tomatoes, aubergines. Serve it with grilled pork or lamb chops, or add cooked haricot beans and serve with fresh bread for a vegetarian meal. It freezes well, so you can make it in the late summer when the fresh ingredients are plentiful and thaw it for a reminder of summer in the middle of winter.










Ratatouille (serves 4)

1 lb (approx 450 g) courgette* (green or yellow or a mixture)
1 lb (approx 450 g) aubergine**
4 Tablespoons (4 x 15 ml spoon) olive oil
1 onion
3 large cloves garlic
1 red pepper
1 lb (approx 450 g) tomatoes
1 Tablespoon (1 x 15 ml spoon) fresh basil (or other herbs of your choice)

Chop the courgette and aubergine into approximately 2 cm cubes. Sprinkle with salt and leave for 30 minutes. Then rinse the courgette and aubergine in a bowl of cold water to wash off the salt, and drain on kitchen paper.

Peel and chop the onion. Crush the garlic. Remove the seeds from the red pepper and chop.

Chop the tomatoes. You can peel them if you like, but I never do. Tinned tomatoes are not as nice in this recipe as fresh ones, so use fresh tomatoes if at all possible.

Fry the onion and garlic gently in the olive oil in a large saucepan until softened and starting to colour. Add the courgette, aubergine and red pepper.

Put a lid on the pan and simmer over a low heat for about 20 minutes, stirring from time to time.

Add the chopped tomatoes and chopped herbs, and season with salt and black pepper to taste. Stir well.

Simmer for another 30 minutes or so over a low heat until the vegetables are almost disintegrating.

Serve with grilled lamb or pork chops, or add cooked butter beans (or haricot beans or canellini beans) for a vegetarian casserole. It goes particularly well with fresh bread to mop up the juices. If using beans, approximately 1.5 oz (approx 40 g) per person of dried beans is about right, soaked overnight and then cooked for about an hour in boiling water.

*Also called zucchini
**Also called eggplant

September recipe: Blackberry clafoutis

Clafoutis is a French pudding of fruit baked in batter. I first encountered it on a walking holiday in the volcanic Auvergne mountains in Central France, where every village restaurant seemed to have a variation of cherry clafoutis on the dessert menu.

Cherries in Britain are something of a luxury, so I never have any spare for cooking. But what we do have is an abundance of juicy blackberries in August and September most years. So I adapted the dish to use blackberries. Here it is. If you’ve been clambering up extinct volcanoes all day, it serves two. Otherwise, four.


Blackberry clafoutis

7 oz (approx 200 g) blackberries
2 oz (approx 50 g) plain flour
2 oz (approx 50 g) sugar
1 egg
0.25 pint (approx 140 ml) milk
1 Tablespoon (1 x 15 ml spoon) sherry

Wash the blackberries. If you picked them wild out of a hedge, evict the spiders, beetles and other startled wildlife.

Grease a shallow heatproof dish and put the blackberries in the bottom. They should form a single layer, more or less. If you have to stack them several deep, you need a bigger dish.

Mix the flour, sugar and egg to a smooth paste.

Gradually blend in the milk. Remember to keep scraping the paste off the back of the spoon and mixing it in. You should end up with a smooth batter about the consistency of thin cream.

Stir in the sherry.

Pour over the blackberries.

Bake in a hot oven at around 180 C for 30-40 minutes until the batter is puffed up, set and golden.

Serve with pouring cream.
If there is any left over, it is also good eaten cold the following day.

September recipe: Caramel apple tart

This is a variation on the classic French dessert Tarte Tatin, but I hesitate to call it that in case it’s a protected regional name (I’d rather not be escorted to the border next time I go cycling in Normandy). It’s a good way to use up windfall dessert apples, if you happen to have an apple tree or know someone who does.

Don’t be put off by the terrifying prospect of having to turn the tart out of its baking tin. If you think about it, it’s actually the easiest kind of tart to turn out because the pastry is on the top when it's cooked and therefore it’s not going to stick to the tin and break. The worst that can happen is that the one or two of the apples stick, in which case you just scrape them out and put them back in their approximate place on top of the tart. No-one will ever know, especially once the tart is covered in caramel sauce. Just don’t let anyone watch you.

Caramel apple tart

Serves 4–6.

Pastry
3 oz (approx 75 g) plain flour
3/4 oz (approx 20 g) butter
3/4 oz (approx 20 g) lard

Topping
Approximately 1 lb (approx 450 g) eating apples
3 oz (approx 75 g) butter
2 oz (approx 50 g) light brown soft sugar
1 oz (approx 25 g) dark muscovado sugar
1 Tablespoon (1 x 15 ml spoon) honey

Grease a 7” (approx 18 cm) diameter sandwich tin.
Rub the butter and lard into the flour until it resembles fine breadcrumbs.
Mix with a small amount of water until it forms a dough.
(Or you can use ready-made shortcrust pastry if you prefer).
Roll out to a circle approximately 1” (approx 2.5 cm) bigger in diameter than the sandwich tin.

Cut the apples into segments and remove the cores (and any damaged parts if using windfalls), but don’t peel them.
Heat the butter, sugar and honey gently in a medium saucepan until the butter has melted and the sugar dissolved.
Add the apple segments and cook for two or three minutes.
Remove from the heat. Fish the apple segments out, leaving most of the sauce in the pan, and arrange them skin side down in the sandwich tin.
Put the pastry on top of the apples, and tuck the edges down between the apples and the sides of the tin,
Bake in a moderately hot oven at about 180 C for about 25–30 minutes until the pastry is set and golden.
Remove from the oven, and loosen the pastry all round the edges of the tin using a pie slice or a blunt table knife. Leave to cool in the tin for 5–10 minutes.
Loosen the pastry all round the edges again.
Place a large plate (bigger than the sandwich tin) on top of the tin. Hold the plate and tin together and invert them so that the plate is underneath and the tin is on top. Lift the tin gently, and the apple tart will fall out of the tin onto the plate with the pastry on the bottom and the apples on the top. (Honest, it will). If it’s inclined to stick, give the tin a gentle tap. If any of the apple segments have stuck to the tin, scrape them out and put them in their approximate places on top of the pastry.
Reheat the caramel sauce and pour over the tart to serve.
Serve with cream, whipped cream, natural yoghurt or ice cream.

The tart can be eaten warm or cold, but the sauce is always best if reheated. It will keep for two or three days at room temperature.

I expect to get six slices out of this recipe, but it depends how big a slice you like.

Halegmonath (September): the early English calendar

Before they converted to Christianity and adopted the Roman calendar, the early English (‘Anglo-Saxons’) reckoned time using a system of lunar months. Each cycle of the moon, probably from full moon to full moon, was a month. The year began at the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. There were two seasons, summer, when the days were longer than the nights, and winter, when the nights were longer than the days (See my earlier post for a summary of the early English calendar.)









The ninth month of the year, corresponding approximately to the Roman and modern month of September, was called Halegmonath, “holy month”.

Bede, writing in 725, tells us:

Halegmonath means “month of sacred rites”.

--Bede, On the Reckoning of Time, Chapter 15. Translated by Faith Wallis.

He doesn’t elaborate, which is a shame. So we do not know why the month was called holy, nor what rites were performed or what deities honoured. I think a few inferences can be made, though (as ever) other interpretations are possible.

In most of temperate Europe, the main cereal crops are harvested during August and September and harvest is completed some time during September, depending on the weather and the crop (for example, barley is harvested earlier than wheat in regions where both are grown). Cereal crops, such as rye, oats, barley and the various types of wheat, were the staple food before potatoes were introduced from the New World. More than any other single crop, the cereal harvest determined whether the ensuing winter would be a hungry one. The month in which the cereal harvest was safely gathered in and the future of the community secured for another year, could justifiably be considered a holy month.

What deity might have been honoured in this holy month? Tacitus says of the Angles in continental Germany in the first century AD:

There follow in order the Reudignians, and Aviones, and Angles, and Varinians, and Eudoses, and Suardones and Nuithones; all defended by rivers or forests. Nor in one of these nations does aught remarkable occur, only that they universally join in the worship of Herthum; that is to say, the Mother Earth. Her they believe to interpose in the affairs of man, and to visit countries. In an island of the ocean stands the wood Castum: in it is a chariot dedicated to the Goddess, covered over with a curtain, and permitted to be touched by none but the Priest. Whenever the Goddess enters this her holy vehicle, he perceives her; and with profound veneration attends the motion of the chariot, which is always drawn by yoked cows. Then it is that days of rejoicing always ensue, and in all places whatsoever which she descends to honour with a visit and her company, feasts and recreation abound.

--Tacitus, Germania

The goddess’ name is variously rendered as Nerthus, Ertha or Herthum depending on the translation. The original Latin is, “Nec quicquam notabile in singulis, nisi quod in commune Nerthum, id est Terram matrem”, so I’ll use the form Nerthus.

A Mother Earth goddess would seem to be a reasonably likely candidate for a deity to be honoured in a month that celebrated the grain harvest.

Kathleen Herbert quotes from an account written by a German visitor to southern England in September 1598:

By lucky chance we fell in with the country-folk celebrating their harvest-home. The last sheaf had been crowned with flowers and they had attached it to a magnificently robed image, which perhaps they meant to represent Ceres. They carried her hither and thither with much noise; men and women were sitting together on the waggon, men-servants and maid-servants shouting through the streets until they came to the barn.

--Quoted in Herbert (1994)

Ceres was the Roman goddess of agriculture, from whose name we get the modern English word “cereal”.

So 1500 years after Tacitus described Nerthus riding in a ceremonial vehicle amid great rejoicing, we have an account of the English celebrating the corn harvest in September by carrying a female image in a waggon, also amid noisy rejoicing. It should be noted (and should go without saying) that the 1598 account doesn’t prove an uninterrupted survival of ritual, much less religion, for 1500 years. For all the German visitors (and we) knew, the English villagers might have invented their celebration the year before based on a fragment of Roman myth that someone had seen or heard of and thought would make a good excuse for a party. Nevertheless, it may not be too far removed from the “sacred rites” of the early English “holy month”.

References
Tacitus, Germania. Full-text translation available online.
Bede: The Reckoning of Time. Translated by Faith Wallis. Liverpool University Press, 1999, ISBN 0-85323-693-3.
Herbert, Kathleen. Looking for the Lost Gods of England. Anglo-Saxon Books, 1994. ISBN 1-898281-04-1.

September recipe: Sausage and apple ragout

Autumn. Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. Acorns bouncing off my head as I cycle to the post office. An adolescent squirrel burying nuts in the lawn. Spiders in the bath (every season has its downside).

Rosy apples on the tree, late tomatoes, plump onions, and a couple of late courgettes (zucchini for readers in the USA) that have been hiding under the leaves until now and have attained Zeppelin-like proportions. Here’s how to turn them into an autumn ragout.

Sausage and apple ragout (serves 2)

2 good quality pork sausages
2 oz (approx 50 g) dried chick peas (or you can use tinned ones, in which case you’ll need about double the weight)
1 onion
1 clove garlic
8 oz (approx 250 g) courgettes (zucchini)
8 oz (approx 250 g) apples
8 oz (approx 250 g) tomatoes (or you can use tinned ones)
1 teaspoon (1 x 5 ml spoon) sugar
1 Tablespoon (1 x 15 ml spoon) fresh , or 1 teaspoon (1 x 5 ml spoon) dried, sage
2 Tablespoons (2 x 15 ml spoon) red wine or cider (optional)

Soak the dried chick peas in plenty of cold water overnight or for 4-6 hours. If you forget, cover them in boiling water and soak for 1 hour.
Rinse two or three times, and boil for about 1 – 1.5 hour until the chick peas are cooked. Or just use tinned chick peas, which can be used straight from the tin.
Peel and chop the onion.
Cut the courgette (zucchini) into chunks if large, or thick slices if small.
Peel and core the apple and cut into chunks.
Peel the garlic clove.
Wash and chop the tomatoes if using fresh tomatoes (you can peel them if you want, but I never bother).
Heat approx 1 Tablespoon (1 x 15 ml spoon) cooking oil in a large saucepan. Fry the sausages over a medium heat until browned all over. Remove the sausages.
Add the onion, courgette (zucchini) and apples to the pan and fry gently until starting to brown. Crush the garlic and mix in.
Add the chopped tomatoes and wine or cider if using, and stir well.
Stir in the cooked chick peas.
Add the sugar and chopped sage. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
Replace the sausages.
Simmer on a low heat for approx 30 minutes. Or put in a casserole and bake in a moderate oven (about 170 C) for about 45 – 60 minutes. Stir from time t time and add a little water if it starts to boil dry.
Serve with potatoes, rice or fresh bread, and a green salad if liked.

You can make a double quantity and freeze it as an instant ready-meal.
You can vary the vegetables and herbs according to taste and availability. Carrots, sweet peppers and aubergine go well in this dish, and marjoram, oregano and thyme all work well instead of sage, as do dried mixed herbs. You can also vary the dried beans; red kidney beans and haricot beans can be substituted for the chick peas. Diced potatoes can be added to make the ragout a complete one-pot meal, though if you do this you’ll need to add extra liquid.

For a vegetarian dish, miss out the sausage and double the quantity of beans.