Share Advent: The Joy Is In The Giving

I’ll be honest, and say that one of the things I don’t like about Christmas is the presents.

There are a couple of reasons why, but to me, a gift is something that you give to someone because you think that they would enjoy receiving it. I was incredibly touched earlier this year when a friend – someone I didn’t know particularly well at that point – bought me a book of short stories. She had seen it in a shop window, remembered a conversation we’d had about the author, and thought I might like it. I don’t really feel that the same thought and sentiment always applies to Christmas gifts.

This year, in an attempt to avoid spending lots of money on gifts that people don’t really want or need, we’ve been thinking a little differently about gifting. I am intending to make lots of my presents - crocheting, decoupaging and chocolating are all on the to do list. I’ll blog some of these when they’re finished (which may well be Boxing Day, considering my current rate of productivity and my crafting abilities. I refer you to the Pom Pom Wreath…). My motto this year has been:

“If you want a golden rule that will fit everything, this is it: Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” 

(William Morris)

After a discussion with a colleague about my desire to find unusual but thoughtful gifts for people on a tight budget, and how my local charity shops had let me down this year, she suggested having a look at our local car boot sale to see what vintage delights we could find. 

The downside of car booting is that if you see something you like, you have to buy it there and then or risk it going (hence the doubling up on the Picqot ware and Meakin), but we had a rough idea of what we were looking for, so we didn’t go overboard. We also agreed that we’d only buy things that we could keep for birthday gifts, or re-sell on eBay. 

I'm really excited about some of these items. Some of them were bargains and in beautiful condition and some are just for fun, but each was bought with someone in mind. To me, that's more fun to give than any special offer toiletries set.

We bought:

Two metallic soda syphons, £1 each:

A Meakin "Aztec" pattern coffee pot, £4:

A Picquot coffee pot and lidded sugar bowl, £20:

A Picquot tea pot, £4:

 An Edwardian glass decanter and pewter label, £8:

A 1964 Meakin "Eden" pattern coffee set with six cups and saucers, £10:

A wood mounted barometer and mirror, £3:

Total spends: £51

Share Advent: 2013 in Photographs

About a year ago I got a new phone. I was never really that bothered by phones – I’ve never rushed out to get the new model or the shiniest on offer. One of my friends has been known to queue at 6am for the latest *insert product*. I am very much of the opinion that he has more money than sense.

I was a latecomer to the smart phone revolution, and ended up getting my current phone because it was free with my contract. It’s alright, it does the trick, the apps are fun. But the main thing I like is that having a camera in my pocket has encouraged me to look at the world around me a little differently, and to record what I see, particularly as I live in such a beautiful city. I haven't done much with these photos (although I keep thinking I should), but there are a few that I really love. Photos unedited unless from Instagram.

Christmas Eve 2012: Sunset over Belfast Lough and Bangor marina.

January: Snow on Arthur's Seat (instagram).

January: Stormy skies at Cramond (instagram).

February: Sunset behind the castle from Waverley Bridge.

March: Lighthouse lens at the National Museum of Scotland (instagram)

April: The view from my new flat.

June: A week of good food, good books and good company. Kefalonia, Greece 

July: Friends came to visit. Board games, wine and laughter. 

July: A week of heat brought bright colours. 

August: Friday night in.

August: Cloudy skies, bright bunting. North Berwick on the boyfriend's birthday.

August: Edinburgh Art Festival installation. Christine Borland & Brody Condon. Daughters of Decayed Tradesmen  

August: Interior of the Watchtower of New Calton Burial Ground.

September: Leonardo da Vinci: The Mechanics of Man. Possibly the best exhibition I've ever seen (instagram).

October: Grey skies, grey water, Forth Bridge (instagram).

October: Sunset and the city skyline.

November: Fun with science at a Google Edinburgh event.

November: Sunset from my living room.

November: Fiery skies.

December: Cold and frosty with blue skies. Sunday lunch and a walk along The Shore, Leith.

Share Advent: Wreath Wednesday

I've never had a front door wreath before. I quite like them, there's something very welcoming and cheery about them. Today's Share Advent prompt - Wreath Wednesday - seemed like a good time to aquire one.

I spent Sunday night browsing the web, trying to find one I liked that I could pick up on the way home from work. I'm a bit torn about Christmas decorations. I can't decide whether I like traditional (by which I mean berries, colour coordinated baubles, tartan bows and holly) or something a bit more, well, modern.

Clockwise from top left: Felt door wreath £15 Mini tree wreath £6 Pom Pom garland £8 Pom Pom bauble £2.50

I did find myself drawn to these lovelies, sadly all either too small or out of my budget – and in a moment of madness and rare optimism, a plan was formed. I was going to… duh duh duhhh… make a wreath myself.

If I was a remotely crafty (in the glue and glitter sense) person, this wouldn't have been quite the traumatic experience that it turned out to be. Monday evening was spent trying to work out how on earth to make pom poms. This resulted in a lot of tangled wool, my boyfriend Jonny ringing his mum (a Home Economics teacher) to ask her, and a very unhelpful conversation about wouldn't it just be easier to buy a wreath from John Lewis?

But... I googled, I found instructions that told me to wrap wool around a donut shaped bit of card, and I realised it was going to take me flipping ages to make 10 pom poms. Jonny got involved. The cat got involved. I got cross and impatient and threw my half made pom pom across the room. The cat got cross and impatient and bit me when I tried to reclaim it off him. It was all very stressful. Jonny made two pom poms. I made two cups of tea.

On Tuesday I had a minor panic about having to make 8 more pom poms without Jonny's assistance (he was out) in order to get this bloody wreath done for Wreath Wednesday. So I googled again, and found some quicker ways to make a pom pom. I became a pom pom demon. Hurrah! Time to attach them to my hoop... and they didn't fit. It looked a bit like one of those "send in your attempt at a Blue Peter project" photographs.

At which point I got cross and impatient and declared it a disaster, until it was pointed out that I could simply make a few more in a different colour to pad it out. So I angrily did that, all the time muttering about how I shouldn't ever do craft ever again and that it was a stupid idea in the first place.

And then it turned out alright, albeit slightly Italian.
Hooray! Wreath!

Well, at least the kitten looked impressed.

 

Share Advent: Joy To The World

As bloggers go, I am not a "good" one. I don't blog every day. I don't blog every week. My photos are often crappy iPhone snaps, and I can't be bothered learning how to write code so that everything is pretty. Really it comes down to the main reason I post my musings - because it encourages me to try new things.

It's in the spirit of trying new things that I've decided to join Anna at Skin & Blister in her Share Advent countdown. I don't normally "do" Christmas in a big way. Aside from a few traditions when I was growing up, I don't remember it being a huge deal, just a really nice day. In many ways I think that's a good thing. This year though, I am going to attempt to embrace the festive cheer, expand my horizons (beware, there may be non-food posts!) and have a crack at it.

The main reason for embracing the cheer is because I am not so good at winter. We used to like each other, and I used to think it was preferable to summer. But a couple of years ago when I stopped working shifts, and started to realise how little daylight I now see, we fell out spectacularly. I struggle to get up on a morning because it's so dark (sunrise tomorrow is at 8.20am - the time when I leave for work), and rather than enjoying my walk home through the city, I find myself fighting through crowds like an angry commuter instead of a friendly local. Combined with a serious aversion to being cold, and I'm not a happy winter bunny.

I reckon that this the reason that there are so many festivals of light in the winter. We need the light as a reminder of warmth and brightness, and a way of bringing people together. They bring a bit of joy to the otherwise dark world. I grew up in a multicultural city, where my friends celebrated Diwali, Hanukkah, Christmas and (at that time) Eid in the winter months. Each year we gathered for school assemblies where the stories of the festivals were told and celebrations were shared. The thing that always struck me was how many similarities there are in between the differences - a chance for a gathering, a celebratory meal after a period of reflection, a time for families and friends to reunite, and an opportunity to be thankful.

I am so glad that I have something lovely to look forward to every week in December. A friend's wedding, a trip to London, dinner with friends, and a week back home in Yorkshire. It is going to be a very happy Advent.

Event: Barney's Brewery Beer Festival, Summerhall

As a Yorkshire Lass, it's not really unusual that I like a beer. My dad is a fan of ales and stouts, so I grew up sampling those (none of your lager lark), and when I passed for old enough to be in a pub, I was introduced to the joys of cheap bitter. As a whippersnapper, I'd get a pint of bitter and blackcurrant (either John or Sam Smiths, or a Tetleys) and a bag of crisps for under £2, which was a rather bargainous deal. The thing is, I'm not really a beer aficionado. I know that I don't like lager, and that I can manage half a pint of stout before feeling slightly full and sick, but aside from that, I'm often a bit in the dark. Seeing as there's a rather marvellous independent beer shop near my flat, it's a shame that I'm not adventurous, but I find myself sticking with two or three that I know I like rather than branching out.

When I received a newsletter from Summerhall, outlining their upcoming events, the Barney's Beer Festival seemed a rather good way of finding out more about beer, and a particularly pleasant way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

Summerhall is a really interesting building. As the old Edinburgh University "Dick Vet" Vetinary Medicine school, it has a slightly creepy feel (I blame the stained blue Lino in the teaching rooms) despite its beautiful Victorian entrance hall. As well as being home to Barney's brewery (there was a brewery on the site before the Dick Vet, so it's nice that one has returned) it hosts special events, free exhibitions, and sports a rather reasonably priced bar and restaurant. Having somehow not been in, I was looking forward to a wander round.

source

Our tickets included a rather snazzy branded schooner glass (2/3 pint), a guide to the beers on offer - a great idea for people like me who are a bit unsure of what they like - and a token for a free sample of Barney's.

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The bar. I loved the keg display - and the very reasonable prices!

The bar seemed as good a place as any to begin. First up, two of the Barney's specials - an Eteaket Lapsang Porter for me (5%) and a Capital Porter for Mr F (4.2%). I plumped for mine purely because of the tea connection. It was slightly smokey, rich and bitter - lovely to start with, but I did struggle a bit towards the end of the glass as the bitterness began to be a bit much for me. I am not sure I'm a porter girl. 

The dark Lapsang Porter

Whilst supping our drinks, we had a wander round. As well as the main room, which sported a bar in the corner, lots of wooden benches, and a stage at the front, there were a couple of smaller rooms explaining the brewing process.

 

A friendly lady from the Brewery was on hand to give out samples of what the beer tastes like at each process, and to talk us through it (short version: it tastes disgusting, and it's a lot more complicated than I thought).

We managed to time our return to the main hall with the beginnings of the music. First up came a digereedoo player (verdict: odd, even for Edinburgh). Another beer was needed. And a burger.  

Front - my Thornbridge Sequoia (4.5%). Back - Mr F's Dark Star Original (5%)

I really enjoyed this one - much more my cup of tea. Or pint of beer. Whatever. It was much smoother than the porter - more drinkable, and considerably less bitter. Turns out that I am an Amber Ale kind of lady.

About halfway through these drinks a really good saxophone band started - fronted by Barney himself.

After half an hour or so of enjoying the music, we had to toddle off home, which was a shame - I really enjoyed the atmosphere once the music started (and we'd managed to bag a seat by that point!). It was a shame that the beers came in fixed sizes (as a comparative newbie, I would have rather had a bigger variety of half pints than the schooner size on offer) and the lack of seating made the afternoon a bit lacking in atmosphere at times, but I'm looking forward to getting a few friends together to go to an evening session when they do their May 2014 event.

Recipe: Fifteens

I've mentioned before that Mr F is from Northern Ireland. Aside from the stereotype of eating lots of potatoes, and being partial to a decent pint of stout, foodwise there are very few things that he requests or makes to remind him of home. This occasionally strikes me as strange - Northern Ireland is (like my native Yorkshire) a land of comfort food - a land of Veda bread, soda bread and wheaten bread. It's also the land of traybakes.

Northern Ireland seems to treat the traybake like the rest of the UK treats a piece of cake. I'm only just getting used to walking into a cafe there and having to settle for a traybake over a piece of lemon or carrot cake. I'm still not completely convinced by them.

The cafe that does our event catering at work is run by a lady from Northern Ireland, and therefore specialises in traybakes rather than cakes - a frequent point of contention with some of the team. One of the things which regularly pops up on our conference lunch orders is a Fifteen slice. It's a classic, a typically Northern Irish treat, and it's incredibly easy. You don't even need an oven (or a tray). You will need a cup of tea to go alongside a slice.

Fifteens all sliced up. Not big, clever or particularly photogenic, but very easy and tasty. 

Fifteens
Makes about 25 slices

15 digestive biscuits
15 glace cherries
15 marshmallows
15g dessicated coconut
1 can of condensed milk

Firstly, bash up your digestives. Not too fine - still with a bit of texture, but grainy rather than broken biscuits. I do this with a rolling pin in a sandwich bag, doing a couple at a time. Pop them into a big bowl.
Mix in your cherries and marshmallows - you can cut them in half to make it easier.
Pour over the condensed milk. Go slowly, a bit at a time, and mix like mad. It depends how much you've bashed your biscuits as to how much you'll need, but essentially enough to make it all stick together. Don't worry if it's a bit lumpy or a little bit wet. Ideally you want it slightly under wet rather than over. I used about 300g of the condensed milk.
Roll the mixture into a long sausage shape on a chopping board, and then roll in dessicated coconut. Wrap in clingfilm (aavoid tin foil - it's a nightmare to unwrap). If it's quite wet and sticky, put the clingfilm onto the chopping board and sprinkle with coconut. Use the clingfilm to help you form the sausage shape.
Chill it in the fridge for a couple of hours (ideally overnight), before cutting into slices with a very sharp knife.

Best stored in an airtight container in the fridge, to stop it going gooey. It'll keep for 3 or 4 days. If you're feeling adventurous you could probably change the ingredients around - nuts, jelly sweets or a variety of dried berries would all be mighty tasty (although make sure you use fifteen of each!)

Review: Anteaques

There's a few places in Edinburgh which I really love, but don't go to as frequently as I should. Anteaques is one of them. It's on the opposite side of the city centre to me, up in Newington, so it's not somewhere I wander past casually. However, I do have a friend who lives around the corner, and who is about to move away from the area. She'd never been in, but an afternoon of charity shop browsing led us to stroll past Anteaques at around 3pm. The perfect time for a scone...

We wandered in, and the lovely owner admitted that they were very busy and we probably should have booked. But - their next booking wasn't for 35 minutes, so if we didn't mind taking our tea quickly, we were welcome to take a seat. His apologetic nature was so charming that we jumped at the chance.

I love the slightly eccentric nature, the cross between a tea shop and an antiques shop - and how very beautiful absolutely everything is. The attention to detail here is incredible.

The welcome table - everything on display - and around the shop - is for sale!

The enormous tea menu, priced to take away

The serving counter. Beautiful cakes, scones, tarts and belgian chocolates and enormous tea caddies.

Our table in the back room, surrounded by beautiful things

Behind our table - fur coats, clocks, and a picnic basket full of silver crockery

Beautiful vintage cups, apostle spoons and silver milk and sugar bowls

A three tier cake stand! Beautifully presented jam and cream.

Anteaques is a really simple, elegant concept. I think that's why I love it. From the selection of jams (raspberry, apricot, lavendar or jasmine), to the silver brush that our waitress cleaned the table with as we sat down, everything has been thought through and it really works. The trend for mismatching crockery and wobbling furniture in cafes seems to be staying - usually I'm not a fan - but in Anteaques it doesn't feel forced for effect or fashion, it feels completely natural. 

Our homemade scones were delicious, generously filled with sultanas and served with huge portions of jam and proper clotted cream. My Devonian friend was impressed! The jams (we went for the florals) were incredible too, and the teas were lovely. We opted for a chilli chai and a cherry almond black tea. 

Despite being tight for time, it was a marvellous break from the rain outside, and I thought it was particularly nice that the owner apologised for our not being able to take time over our tea as we paid. I get the impression that this cafe really cares about its customers and its tea - I love it.

Pots of tea and scones for two: £10.20

Anteaques

17 Clerk Street

EH8 9JH

0131 6678466

tea@anteaques.co.uk

Recipe: Duck Dim Sum

I've probably mentioned before my love of dim sum. I adore pretty much any type of food that involves a little bit of everything, whether it's called a picnic, a smorgasbord, a tasting platter or an antipasti selection. I am irritatingly indecisive when it comes to food, so it's not really a surprise that I am a fan of   being able to avoid it.

One of the best things about living with my old flatmate was that we'd regularly share meals. She is just as indecisive as me and always game for trying something new. We still tend to get together over food - chatting and catching up while cooking together, or trying a new cafe or restaurant after work. It just so turned out that neither of us had plans for Saturday night, so we decided to resurrect the old tradition of food and a film. Dim Sum was suggested, and we thought we'd venture out of our comfort zones and attempt to make our own dumplings.
A note for the purists - I have no idea how "authentic" these are. They're probably more like a cross between a Chinese guoti potsticker dumpling and a Japanese gyoza than a true version of one or the other, but either way they were delicious, and incredibly easy to make.

Most of the ingredients are fairly easy to find in large supermarkets, with perhaps the exception of the wrappers. I found these in the frozen section of my local chinese supermarket. We bought both the large square ones and the small round ones. If you can, get the latter as they're much easier to seal the filling in. We used a food processor, as it was infinitely easier but if you're desperate you could dice the meat very finely into very small pieces with a large knife - or you could use high quality pork mince.

Duck Dim Sum Dumplings
Makes 35

2 duck breasts, or 3 thighs
3 spring onions, or half a leek
1 teaspoon Chinese 5 spice
1 teaspoon ginger
1 medium hot chilli
2 cloves of garlic, crushed or finely diced
1 generous tablespoon hoi sin sauce
1 egg
pre-made dumpling wrappers
oil, for frying

Skin your duck breasts or thighs and remove any visible fat. If you're using thighs, pull off all the meat, leaving behind the bone, tendons and any sinew. Chop into rough pieces, and pop into the food processor.
Chop up the spring onions or leek into thin rounds, and add those in to the food processor - blitz with the duck for a few seconds, until the duck is starting to become like mince in texture and the leek is finely diced.
Add in the remaining ingredients - except for the wrappers or oil - and blitz again to mix through.
Next up: the assembly stage.
Place your wrapper onto a nonstick surface. Using two teaspoons, place a small amount - about half a teaspoon - into the centre of the wrapper. Dip the end of your finger into a mug of water and run it around the edge of the wrapper - that will help it to stick together. Fold the circle over into two, to make a half moon shape, and squeeze the edges together. Set aside and repeat.
To cook: there's a couple of ways to cook them but I find using a really good non-stick frying pan or wok with a lid (you could improvise with a wooden chopping board if needed!) is easiest and reduces likelihood of them sticking as they steam.
Heat up a small amount of oil - about half a teaspoon, tilting the pan so that it covers as much of the surface as possible.
Using chopsticks or tongs so you don't burn yourself, add the dumplings to the pot. Move them around a little so they don't stick, then fry for a minute. Carefully - throw a cup of water into the pan. It will sizzle and spit. Allow the dumplings to steam for 2 or 3 minutes with the lid on (add more water if needed) before removing the lid and boiling the water off. They will start to stick to the pan once cooked, going crispy on one side. Don't let them burn!

Best eaten straight away, but if you need to keep them warm while they are batch cooked, keep them on a hot plate in an oven at it's lowest temperature.

Serve with a dipping sauce made of half rice wine vinegar, half soy sauce, with garlic and fresh chilli to taste.

Recipe: Pea and Ham Hock Soup

I love Autumn. It's my favourite of the seasons: knitwear, boots, colourful trees, fireworks, and the promise of Christmas when it turns really cold. What's not to like? Mostly though, it signifies the start of Proper Food. I'm not a salad girl (I like my carbohydrates) and I love a comforting hot lunch on a blustery day.

This soup is a perfect autumn comforter. Ham hocks (or houghs) are incredibly cheap, mostly because they are time-consuming to cook. They've fallen out of fashion because of their association with poverty food, but like so many cheap cuts of meat, they're full of flavour. Mine was under £1.50 for an outdoor reared one (I'd strongly suggest getting a British outdoor reared, free range or organic one if you can - partly because of welfare standards, but partly because you really do want something with a high meat content for this recipe). I've adapted this recipe from half a dozen variations. If you can't be bothered faffing with the hock to make stock, then you could miss out that step, and use good quality liquid ham stock and rashers of bacon or diced gammon. If you have a slow cooker though, it's especially worth the effort, as it would quite happily bubble away overnight.

Pea and Ham Hock Soup

For the stock:
1 smoked ham hock
2 carrots
1 large onion
2 bay leaves
10 peppercorns
a bouquet garni (if you have any handy)

For the soup:

10g butter

1 diced clove garlic

1 finely chopped large onion

2 diced carrots

400g dried split peas

1 litre fresh ham stock

175g ham, finely diced 

To make the stock:
Soak the hock for about 12 hours, or overnight in cold water, changing the water a couple of times if you can. This will help to draw out some of the saltiness from the smoking. 

Roughly chop the onion and two carrots, and add to a large pan.
Add in the ham hock, bay leaves, peppercorns and bouquet garni and cover with fresh cold water, about 2.5 litres.
Bring to the boil, skim off any froth, and then simmer for an hour. Make sure that the hock stays covered, adding more water if needed (if you have a slow cooker, this would be great to do overnight).

Drain, reserving the liquid. Cool at room temperature until it stops steaming, then refrigerate for 2-3 hours (or overnight).

Allow the ham hock to cool to holdable temperature, before picking off the meat and setting aside. Discard as much fat as you can, along with the skin.

When the stock is cold, skim off the fat and strain before use.

To make the soup:

Rinse the split peas (check that the packet doesn't require overnight soaking - mine didn't but some apparently do).

In a large pan, melt the butter, and fry the onion, carrots and garlic. 

Mix in the split peas, and cover with stock. 

Bring to the boil, and simmer for an hour until the peas are soft and starting to break up. You may need to add a bit more hot water to keep the peas just covered.

Take off the heat and allow to cool before blending until smooth. You will need to add more water as you continue to blend - it's a matter of preference how thick you want the soup, but add the water slowly, blending to mix it in before adding more.

Mix in 125g of the ham to the soup and bring back to the heat.

Serve with a sprinkling of the remaining meat, freshly ground pepper, and crusty bread and butter.