Cornflower

Recommended

    Way back in May we had a couple of posts on Cornflower readers' recommendations, the inital one here and then a list of the links it generated here. As you'll see from a glance at them, all sorts of things got the readership's seal of approval, and we were also able to come up with a few suggestions for items that people were seeking.

    I thought it might be fun and useful to do another of these posts, especially as Christmas looms, so I'll start us off by recommending Liz Earle Naturally Active Skincare whose products I've used for years - they do what they are designed to do, they are a pleasure to use, are reasonably priced and always come beautifully wrapped (and their Eyebright Soothing Eye Lotion includes cornflower extract).

    Anyone else? Please recommend anything at all that you rate highly, and likewise, if you're particularly seeking a certain product or a supplier/source of something, let us know and someone may be able to help.

    Edited to add: in case you missed it the first time, how about the 44, Scotland Street tea towel? Or, on a related note, Kitchen Sink Dramas' tea towels and aprons.

It lay down low in a hollow ...

 

"...rich with fine old timber and luxuriant pastures; and you came upon it through an avenue of limes, bordered on either side by meadows, over the high hedges of which the cattle looked inquisitively at you as you passed, wondering, perhaps what you wanted; for there was no thoroughfare, and unless you were going to the Court you had no business there at all.

    At the end of this avenue there was an old arch and a clock-tower, with a stupid, bewildering clock, which had only one hand; and which jumped straight from one hour to the next, and was therefore always in extremes. Through this arch you walked straight into the gardens of Audley Court.

    A smooth lawn lay before you, dotted with groups of rhododendrons, which grew in more perfection here than anywhere else in the county. To the right there were the kitchen gardens, the fish-pond, and an orchard bordered by a dry moat, and a broken ruin of a wall, in some places thicker than it was high, and everywhere overgrown with trailing ivy, yellow stonecrop, and dark moss. To the left there was a broad gravelled walk, down which, years ago, when the place had been a convent, the quiet nuns had walked hand in hand; a wall bordered with espaliers, and shadowed on one side by goodly oaks, which shut out the flat landscape, and circled the house and gardens with a darkening shelter.

    The house faced the arch, and occupied three sides of a quadrangle. It was very old, and very irregular and rambling. The windows were uneven: some small, some large, some with heavy stone mullions and rich stained glass; others with frail lattices that rattled in every breeze; others so modern that they might have been added only yesterday. Great piles of chimneys rose up here and there behind the pointed gables, and seemed as if they were so broken down by age and long service, that they must have fallen but for the straggling ivy which, crawling up the walls and trailing even over the roof, wound itself about them and supported them. The principal door was squeezed into a corner of a turret at one angle of the building, as if it was in hiding from dangerous visitors, and wished to keep itself a secret - a noble door for all that - old oak, and studded with great square-headed iron nails, and so thick that the sharp iron knocker struck upon it with a muffled sound; and the visitor rang a clanging bell that dangled in a corner amongst the ivy, lest the noise of the knocking should never penetrate the stronghold.

    A glorious old place - a place that visitors fell into rapture with; feeling a yearning wish to have done with life, and to stay there for ever, staring into the cool fish-ponds, and counting the bubbles as the roach and carp rose to the surface of the water - a spot in which Peace seemed to have taken up her abode, setting her soothing hand on every tree and flower; on the still ponds and the quiet alleys; the shady corners of the old-fashioned rooms; the deep window-seats behind the painted glass; the low meadows and the stately avenues ..."

That is the opening of our book group book for January; you'll find all the details over here, so do please join in and read it with us.

(The pictures are of Kellie Castle in Fife).

Cornflower on air

 

    I've been wafting through the ether again!

Books and cakes - 46

    For all their study of Ancient Greek civilization and their appreciation of the finer things in life, Henry, Bunny, Francis, Camilla and Charles, the classics students at the centre of Donna Tartt's The Secret History, don't manage to eat particularly well. Various references to Pop Tarts, doughnuts, rolls and jam and a cheesecake filched from a college fridge were insufficient to inspire cake-making in the spirit of the book, so I had to look for another cue, and I found it in a scene in which Henry is polishing the leaves of his rose bushes, and indicating his Mme Isaac Pereire, tells Richard that its flowers smell of raspberries.

    So, I googled "recipe, Greek, cake, raspberries", and up came this, which being American-style and incorporating Greek yogurt and the berries Henry's rose evokes, is enough to represent the book in baked form. I set to, but as I was making it I had the distinct feeling that it was familiar and I'd done it before, and so when I put it in the oven I searched the Cornflower archives to check, and lo! I was right. We had it over two years ago to go with the Iris Murdoch. Oh well, it is a good cake and worth repeating, and come to think of it, the two novels share some common ground, so the choice is apt enough.

    If you make it, might I suggest using a tin slightly smaller than the 23cm one specified as it produces a pretty thin cake (hence my much shorter baking time), and if you follow the link above to its first appearance here you'll see I felt more raspberries were in order. Pity I hadn't read my own note before it went into the oven today.

    Our thoughts on The Secret History itself are here.

Edited to add: It ocurs to me that anyone arriving at this site for the first time may be mystified by the above post - if so, click here (and scroll down) and all should become clear.

Friday flowers - the benefits of a mild autumn

    The cornflower seed I sowed in late spring didn't germinate at all, but thanks to very mild weather this autumn, the pinch I sprinkled on a bare patch of earth in early July has at last produced a flower and a few more to come.

Cornflower on ice

    You might be surprised - for I certainly am - to know that I get an enormous number of emails giving me information which the senders hope will be of sufficient interest to me to post about their products/services/initiatives/events here on the blog. I get invitations to West End shows, food fairs, special film screenings, concerts ... you name it, it's in my inbox, and that's just what's relevant to this site - Cornflower Books attracts many times more (Harriet is still angling for the job of 'paid' assistant to help me deal with all that side of things).

    As yet I've not been able to go to any of the non book-related events to which I've been asked, and I rarely feature here anything that's been promoted in this way, but two such emails arrived this morning and because they amused me and they illustrate something of the range I receive, I thought I'd share them with you.

   The first is a video of the opening of Tiffany's 'Skate'* at Somerset House, with glimpses of Miss Pippa Middleton and the great Dame Judi Dench,

 

while the second - to carry on the ice theme - is a link to the website of Lick me, I'm delicious, the home of the portable nitro ice cream contraption! Charlie Francis, the entrepreneur behind this, had me laughing at his press release this morning:

"The ice cream contraption uses a liquid nitrogen injection system to churn two custom flavours for up to 500 guests fresh in front of their eyes. The machine is set up in half an hour by ninja ice cream warriors, and makes fresh ice cream in under a minute."

Never mind the ninjas, what about the flavours?

Charlie goes on: "I like to create frozen creations, tasty deliciousness which are more dessert than ice cream.  I’ve created a dark port ice cream with a stilton ripple, which I serve on a crisp thin water biscuit, a lemon meringue pie served in an all butter pasty case and a raspberry mojito ice cream using real raspberries, fresh mint and lots of white rum."

Or how about the Cherry Brandy Bakewell?

 

*I tried skating once. 'Nuff said.

Another simple supper

    Oven-roasted roots frittata -

roast the root vegetables (or use what you may have left over from another meal); beat the eggs and add some grated cheese and a bunch of herbs such as chives, thyme and parsley, all finely chopped; pour the eggs over the roots and return to the oven for 10-15 minutes. Serve with good bread.

River Cottage Veg Every Day is certainly earning its place on the shelf.

Book of the day - on the Cornflower Christmas list

 

    On the tables of The Mainstreet Trading Company the other day I saw Harris Tweed: From Land to Street by Lara Platman, published to mark the 100th. anniversary of Harris Tweed's trademark Orb stamp. The author spent a year following the genesis of the tweed from back to back - that is from sheep to customer - talking to and photographing the farmers, mill workers, weavers and designers who make and work with this special cloth from Lewis and Harris to the cutting rooms of Savile Row and Fashion Week collections.

    The book includes pictures of weaver John MacLean at Garynahine Harris Tweed, visited by us on two trips to the island (posts on that here and here) and of mills such as Carloway. "A heartfelt celebration of craftsmanship and a way of life", I'd be glad if Santa found room for this in his sack.

More on comments

     I've now spoken to Typepad about comment notifications and they tell me there are two ways by which you can be sure of getting word that someone has replied to you. Firstly, you can set up a Typepad account which is free and at its simplest (i.e. without having a blog) means that you are registered, can have a profile picture of your choosing which will appear with your comments, and can opt for notification of replies to your comments by ticking the relevant box under Account/Notifications/Activity. Secondly, you can subscribe to comment feeds if you read the blogs by way of a feed reader. Failing the above, you have to check back manually. 

Lightbulb moment no. 1 - on comments

    In my ignorance, I thought that if someone comments on a post here in response to an earlier comment, the author of that earlier comment was automatically notified by email that someone had replied to them. I happened to check my assumption with Mr. C., who was engaged in a brief exchange of comments yesterday, and thus discovered that my belief was mistaken.

    This is vexing because it means the chances are people won't know that the points they've raised have been answered or taken up or perhaps some further information has been offered by others or by me - e.g. a fairly lengthy response about the appropriate age-group for a book on this post, and details of a painting and news of a forthcoming exhibition on this one.

    It seems then that if anyone has commented or is interested in following a developing thread they will have to manually check back on the post in question from time to time - unless there is some other way of doing it that I haven't come across, in which case, please let me know!

                                                ~~~~~

(Lightbulb moment no. 2 is on the books site).                                             

 

Tomato tart - version 2

   

    If you've followed this blog since the early days, you may have seen the post about tomato tart, something I make quite often. Good as that is, when I saw that Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall gives a slightly different version in River Cottage Veg Every Day I wanted to try it, and the unanimous verdict of my testers here is that Hugh's is the better one.

    You arrange the tomatoes (I used pomodorini, halved) on the pastry which has been scattered with finely chopped garlic, drizzle with olive oil and season, and bake for about 15 minutes. Then dot the tart with slices of goats' cheese (minus rind), throw on some thyme, pepper and another trickle of oil and bake again "until the cheese is melty and bubbly and the pastry golden brown". It is very good indeed.

    I was making this for four of us, including one who doesn't like goats' cheese, so her quadrant got a spoon or two of Boursin instead, but suggested variations include basil and mozzarella, rosemary and pecorino or blue cheese and chives. Whichever version you choose, a green salad is all you need to go with it; and by the way, one other good tip Hugh F-W gives is to sprinkle polenta over the lightly oiled baking sheet as this helps keep the pastry crisp.

A view of a room

    That four-poster I mentioned yesterday.

A fire will be laid on request.

Cricket ball key fob.

A telephone from another age (and there was also a square piano - out of tune!).

An enormous Edwardian bath with excellent shower.

    That was our room at The Inn at Whitewell, and the hotel definitely gets a very high rating in 'The Cornflower Guide to Good Places to Stay'. Here's the view again, this time with the morning mist just rising:

A room with a view

    I'm in Lancashire, in the beautiful Forest of Bowland, and this is the view from my room. I can hear the sound of the river (the Hodder) through the open window as I write - blogging from a four-poster bed! More later ....

Book of the day - how to live well

    Last night's supper here was peperonata (pictured below) - red and yellow peppers cooked slowly in olive oil with garlic and thyme - alongside grilled chicken and Hugh's magic bread.

    Inadvertently, I've made something which wouldn't be much out of place in the Italian mountain village of Campodimele, about which Tracey Lawson writes in A Year in the Village of Eternity. Having read scientific studies showing that the residents of this place enjoyed better health and greater longevity than normal, and unusual levels of activity well into old age (they sound like a real-life version of the Bertolli advert), Tracey went to live there to find out what their secret is:

    "The village does not disappoint: even the most elderly of the residents radiate vitality. There goes Gerardo, zipping down the mountain on the Vespa he has ridden for so many of his seventy-nine years; and here's Maria, chasing her hens up the hill on her eighty-three-year-old legs ... In this mountain community, the passing of the years has always been marked by the seasonal traditions of harvesting, bottling, preserving and cooking whatever is fresh in the fields that day. The kitchens and larders of Campodimele offer an insight into what gives the villagers their remarkable appetite for life."

    So here is an account of a year in the village and a collection of more than a hundred recipes together with Tracey Lawson's observations on how to live longer and - even more importantly - how to live well.

Flying colours

    Some of the glorious paintings by the Scottish Colourist F.C.B. Cadell which are currently on show at the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art, and which have been hung in rooms specially painted the lavender grey of the artist's own studio.

    Cadell's was a sad life at the end as he died, aged 54, in straitened circumstances, dependent on the generosity of friends and charitable grants, and that despite his standing and reputation. Today his work sells for very large sums indeed.

    I bought the exhibition catalogue but I've added this larger book to my wish list as I love his elegant Edinburgh interiors, stylish ladies, still lifes and Iona landscapes, while his use of colour would light up a room. If you can't get to the gallery, there's lots to see on the exhibition website including this short film (scroll down).