Cornflower

Sheep-ish

    When I give away books via the blogs I'm not expecting anything in return, but such is the generosity of the Cornflower readership that surprise parcels do arrive from time to time.

    A few weeks ago I sent a Scottish book to MzTallulah in Portugal, and now she has most generously sent me some Portuguese wool!

     This is beautiful blue 2-ply fingering weight from Retrosaria, lovely and rustic and 'sheep-ish', and perfect (as the website says) for stranded knitting.

    I have followed Rosa's blog for quite some time, enjoying her photographs - though I can't read many of her words - so being given some of her yarn is a double pleasure, and I'm most grateful to MzTallulah for such a kind thought and a super gift.

Appt

 

    I'm in Gadget Girl mode today hoping we can do a little app 'swap'. Keen to discover some of the many applications available for iPhone, I've been searching lists and using Genius, but not coming up with very much so far. I've got Nigella, as I said before, Waitrose, Amazon and Amazon Kindle, Man Booker Prize 2010 and the Impressionist Gardens one to accompany the exhibition. I've also downloaded MoMA and Sotheby's, and I spent a happy little while last night looking at paintings and watching Sotheby's videos of art and antiques (Chatsworth attic sale and Impressionists, for example). All the above, except for Nigella, are free, by the way.

    There must be many other apps out there that would appeal to me if only I knew they existed, so if you can recommend any apt apps, e.g. books, art, food, knitting, gardens, etc., I'd be grateful, and in return I hope someone might find my short list useful.

No Mind Left Behind

   Today's post is on a serious subject as I want to flag up No Mind Left Behind, an international conference on autism, ADHD and other early onset neurodevelopmental disorders, which will be taking place in Glasgow on 29th and 30th March 2011.

   This is not just for medical professionals, but for parents, carers, teachers - anyone who has an interest in the subject of learning difficulties or is affected by it, and so while leading practitioners in the field will present their latest findings, there will also be talks aimed at the non-specialist seeking practical solutions.

   Mindroom (with which I have been involved for a long time now) has staged two major conferences before, and here we and our collaborative partner, The Swedish Child Neuropsychiatry Science Foundation, are bringing together 50 experts to debate the issues and share research, but this event will be different in that for the first time, we are able to offer a virtual conference in addition to the physical one (details on the downloadable programme).

    Whether you head to Glasgow or take in the wealth of information we have to offer by way of your computer screen, No Mind Left Behind promises to be a wonderful opportunity for all concerned to increase knowledge and understanding of this widespread, important issue. Please pass on the link to anyone you think might welcome it.

Quote of the day - 2

     "...Kevin McCloud - the thinking woman's Monty Don - ..."

I'm tempted to say 'discuss'! It's from this article, by the way, and apologies to non-UK readers who may never have heard of these people.

Quote of the day

      "I always thought that Euphorbias looked a bit shifty and untrustworthy and what else could one expect from Catmint but deceit?"

That is James Alexander-Sinclair, always vaut le détour (or even le voyage), but do read his latest post because he is making a very interesting horticultural point there.

(I hope he likes Cornflowers - they are unassuming things who know their place, mild-mannered, beautiful of hue, attractive to beneficial hover flies, spreading only joy where e'er they flourish ....).

Colourburst

    A glorious autumn day in Perthshire; a dusting of snow on the hills, blue skies, intense colour in the woods at Falls of Bruar (follow that link and you'll see that Robert Burns was responsible for the original tree-planting).

    As well as our walk, did we pay a visit to House of Bruar? Of course we did, and there was plenty of colour there, too, from tweeds to knitwear.

Books and cakes - 34

     You win some, you lose some - as with books, so with baking!

My biscuits are breaking, just like The Bridge of San Luis Rey, so instead of the plate piled high, which I'd hoped to be able to show you, I'm going for the minimalist look and a single biscuit to represent the batch:

Thornton Wilder's novel is set in Peru, so I used this recipe for alfajores, Peruvian biscuits sandwiched together with caramel. Points to note: rolling out the dough between two sheets of clingfilm as suggested is a good idea as it is very soft and difficult to work, even after chilling. Give them plenty of space to expand as they bake, watch your timing as they cook quickly, and handle them as carefully as you can because they break very easily. As to the manjarblanco, I used Bonne Maman Confiture de Caramel (and I forgot to dust them with icing sugar).

    Despite mishaps and shortcuts, these are very good indeed - short (like the book they were made to go with!), melting, delicious.

Foraging

 

     While my foraging has been limited to taking pictures of wild foods, my mother has been out harvesting them, specifically picking elderberries with which to make wine. Mum has used the additive-free recipes and simple methods from a delightful little book by Mollie Harris for many years now, and with considerable success - of the 'reds', her blackberry has been particularly good and her elderberry, too.

     The latest batch is quietly bubbling away in the gentle warmth of the kitchen, but Mr. C. tells me that a flagon of elderberry his mother made once - and kept in the more tropical heat of the airing cupboard - fermented too enthusiastically and blew its top, resulting in purple sheets and towels and an ominous stain on the ceiling below; take heed if you fancy a little vintage of your own!

Something soothing

    Neighbours' builders' rock music (I'm told it's Eminem - dull, dull, dull!) has provided the soundtrack to my day so far, although they were good enough to turn it down when I asked.

This morning's post on Cornflower Books - a distillation of forty-odd comments with cogent conclusions - took an age to write, there's still tomorrow's CBG piece to do, and my brain has had enough.

So I'm in need of something soothing, and as the little cutting patch goes on producing despite low temperatures, my daily picking of cosmos, cornflowers and sweet peas will have to do the trick.

Hips and haws

    If foraging for the likes of sea buckthorn, spruce shoots or thuja cones (as used in Noma recipes) may be beyond most of us, the more common rosehips, hawthorn and rowan berries may yet be within our grasp, and syrups and jellies only a preserving pan away (I wish! - I'm too busy with other things here just now for the likes of that, though I enjoy it very much when I have the time).

These pictures were taken on public land within yards of my home near the centre of Edinburgh, and with John Wright's book Hedgerow (River Cottage Handbook) in mind. This is a practical guide to gathering edible plants from the wild, one written with a great deal of expertise and a lot of wit - it's very entertaining.

To go back to our friend sea buckthorn, here's what he has to say: "The flavour of Sea Buckthorn berries has to be experienced to be believed. If you have ever eaten what is called 'extreme candy' [what on earth is that?] you will have a vague idea, though you will have to imagine it without the sugar. The berries contain large quantities of malic acid, a natural acid an order of magnitude sharper than the more familiar citric acid. The juice can be used, diluted and with sugar, to make a spine-stiffening drink, or as a fierce wild substitute for lemon with fish. I make Sea Buckthorn and Crab Apple jam, and, though I say so myself, it is a marvellous work among all nations."

Meanwhile, over on Cornflower Books ...

...there's a fascinating discussion about the publishing/bookselling business. It has broadened out from the initial point about the author's place in the chain and has moved on to other, related issues, including some dispiriting facts. Do have a look (and take part if you wish) if you're a reader, writer, publisher or bookseller.

Art on a plate

   I've just bought the most beautiful book on food I've ever seen.

This is Noma: Time and Place in Nordic Cuisine by René Redzepi, a look at the work of his restaurant Noma in Copenhagen (currently the San Pellegrino Best Restaurant in the World).

   Published by visual arts specialist Phaidon, the photography - by Ditte Isager - is just stunning. I've been gazing at the images, so taken by the beauty of the food and the way it and the accompanying context pictures have been shot.

    This is no household cookery book, though, and although I've yet to read all the recipes, there are few so far that I'd attempt; many require unusual ingredients, specialist equipment and more expertise than I possess, but nevertheless, the dishes' apparent simplicity (I use those words advisedly) and the ethos behind them are very appealing.

   The picture at bottom right is not tiny vegetables in a pot of compost, as it appears; it is long radishes seasoned with sea salt and inserted into a thick herb cream. Sprinkled around and over them is 'malt soil', recipe here.

Old town

   I overheard some Canadian visitors yesterday exclaiming about the oldness of Edinburgh's New Town - which is Georgian - and gasping when they were told by a local that the Old Town (above) is even older. "Canada is just too new!" they said.

    In contrast to the enthusiasm and delight of the tourists, I was amused to read this less appreciative view of Edinburgh quoted in Hilary Mantel's novel of the French Revolution, A Place of Greater Safety. Here is Sir Francis Burdett, British Ambassador, on Paris:

"It is the most ill-contrived, ill-built, dirty stinking town that can possibly be imagined; as for the inhabitants, they are ten times more nasty than the inhabitants of Edinburgh."

    What to say to that? Ça alors! Oh dear! Or in the vernacular, awa' an' bile yer heid, man!

Into the garden's dying dream

  Today is the final day of the Impressionist Gardens exhibition, and we went this morning for a last look. Queues were building very early on, the catalogue has sold out (though it is available here and here) opening hours have been extended this week - it must have been one of the most popular exhibitions the National Galleries of Scotland have ever put on.

    There are gardens captured at all seasons and in all moods, shown from within, from without and with a view to what's beyond; there's the domestic and the everyday and the grand and the public, the ordered and cultivated and the winsomely wild. The picture above suits this time of year, of course; it's In the Pergola (c.1912-13) by Marie Egner, "[It] was painted in Italy, and contrasts the last fruits of summer - luscious grapes, and red and yellow gourds - with the hint of autumn chill which accompanies the withering of the vine leaves."

    The book goes on to say that Egner was an admirer of the work of Richard Strauss - "he is always distinguished and has splendid colour" - and would surely have appreciated September from his Four Last Songs: "The summer shudders silently towards its end. Leaf after golden leaf drops ... The summer smiles, astonished and weary, Into the garden's dying dream..."

   Here is Jessye Norman singing that beautiful song.

Sometimes in the long summer evenings ...

 

     "...which are so marked a part of our youth, Harriet and Vesey played hide-and-seek with the younger children, running across the tufted meadows, their shoes yellow with the pollen of buttercups. They could not run fast across those uneven fields; nor did they wish to, since to find the hiding children was to lose their time together, to run faster was to run away from one another."

    Come and join us, if you will, to read the Cornflower Book Group's November book - all details here.