Showing posts with label food politics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food politics. Show all posts

Sunday, 1 April 2012

Not Quite Veg Everyday - but trying: nettle soup, courgette and rice file pie and oven dried tomatoes

I’ve been bemoaning the fact that my mission to eat less meat has gone somewhat awry during the last couple of weeks, but today I made it back on track big time.

Don't they look lovely?

I’ve been wondering about nettle soup on and off for a few years now but never had the confidence to just do it, but there it was, in the Saturday Guardian – St Hugh and a recipe for nettle soup. We have a garden full of nettles, so I donned some gloves and the scissors and set off to harvest the finest nature has to offer. I did as I was told and just picked the tips. The dog was very interested – he once stung himself in the eye in the self same nettle patches and has been fairly wary since, so he probably couldn’t work out why the human who does all the sensible things in his life like walking him, feeding him and removing ticks, was engaged in something so hazardous.  

Nettles? Nasty things

Anyways, I had everything the recipe required apart from leeks, but because I needed a battery for my scales to work out if I had enough nettles, I trotted off to the co-op. No batteries, so I pilfered my neighbour’s scales – she was reading the same nettle soup article. Spooky...

green soup
The picking over, washing and stalk removing was a bit of a faff but it’s a dead easy recipe once that’s done. The soup was a gorgeous bright green colour. Both Blue and Pink were keen to try (result in itself), although Pink decided against the addition of the yoghurt (as did the Husband). And it was TOTALLY DELICIOUS. The only drawback - my washing up gloves clearly weren’t thick enough as I got stung through them while I was doing the washing etc and my fingers are tingling as I type, but definitely one to repeat.

Blue was worried though. “Don’t we normally have a roast on Sunday?” he pondered. Obviously drawing his personal line in the sand there. “Well, we’re not having roast, we’re having pie” I explained, neatly sidestepping the issue of what exactly was going to be in the pie. However, mention of pie was clearly enough to satisfy him. I’m not sure he was expecting it to be courgette and rice filo pie which is what in fact it was. Another Veg Everyday recipe, really easy to put together – grated courgette, grated cheese, long grain rice, dill, parsley and a couple of eggs, in a filo case. The courgette liquid cooks the rice inside the pie case. I was a little sceptical that this would actually happen – it’s the sort of thing that normally goes wrong for me, but it worked.

By the time we’d finished at the allotment got home and I’d actually got it on the table, though, Blue and Pink were both knackered. “What’s in the pie?” asked Pink. “Well, I don’t like courgette”. Grrr – annoys me so much when they say that. “But I will try it” she added, graciously. I resisted the urge to thank her in my most sarcastic voice, gritted my teeth and got on with serving it up.

You know, I think it actually looks like what it's supposed to...
It was really lovely. We had potato salad, watercress, the oven dried tomatoes from Veg Everyday, and some hideously over food-mile’d mangetout peas. A feast indeed.

Sad to say, Pink tried and didn’t like, and Blue manfully ate it but said it was OK if he had it with the potato salad. A shame really because the Husband and I both enjoyed it (at least I think he did). So not one for family meals again at the moment, but perhaps by the time the garden is full to burst of courgettes the kids will have changed their minds. Here’s hoping.

Thursday, 2 February 2012

Use by – schmooze by – but don’t let that stand in the way of a good complaint!

I have to say that I don’t hold much with ‘Use by’ dates. I understand that in our unbearably litigious culture, food producers have to cover their backs, but growing up as I did where the breakfast norm involved scraping a layer of mould off a jar of homemade jam proclaiming that it had been made at least 3 years previously, my approach tends to be more of the ‘see if it tastes OK’ variety. None of us have died.

However, even I balked when considering the apparent use by date on some puff pastry that I’d ordered in my delivery from the supermarket yesterday. Yesterday was 1 Feb. The Use by date was not only 31 Jan, but 31 Jan 2010. I couldn’t quite believe it. 2010. Really? I mean that’s pushing it, even for me.
I rang the call centre. They were terribly sorry. Could I hold? I could. Although I could probably have asked them to call me back. Anyway, it didn’t take long for them to return. Could I confirm that it really said 2010. I said I could definitely confirm that it did. I had to check – it’s not unheard of me to have misread something like that, but no, it definitely said 2010. I held again. A short time later, she was back. They were terribly sorry about this. They’d like to offer a refund and a £15.00 voucher as a gesture of good will. And the store manager (of the store where the shopping came from) would like to call once she’s investigated. Would that be OK? But of course. It’s about the MOST inconvenient time of my day. I have nothing better to do – after all, I have a load of shopping to put away, tea to cook, reading to be heard, tables to be battled with, spellings to be dragged kicking and screaming from under a fridge magnet to be implanted into Pink’s mind , chickens to put to bed, another hour or so of work – you get the picture.

Anyway, she called. “We’re terribly sorry” she simpered.”2010 is the batch code.” “Rather an inconvenient batch code, seeing as how it sits right under the date.” I remarked. And then “But even so, today is 1 February - this says 31 Jan. That was yesterday. Surely this shouldn’t have been sent out. There wasn’t even a ‘short shelf life’ warning on my substitutes sheet.” I should say that I wasn’t cross  - after all, I had the refund and the voucher under my belt – just interested to know what she would say. Pink was doing some silent cheerleading in the corner – “Go Mummy! Go Mummy!” – I hope I’m teaching her a valuable life lesson. To give her her due, she was totally accepting of that. I love being right. “Can we deliver you some more? Free of charge?” But of course.
And the original pastry? In the freezer. After all, it was only one day over its use by date. I’m sure it will be fine.
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