Isn’t it just! I have now been at the market for 15 weeks. 15 WEEKS!  That’s kind of exciting, isn’t it? It’s time for an update.

Life has been rather busy, I don’t exaggerate. Nor do I seek sympathy as it was good busy. Isn’t it good to be busy? However, the downside of this busy-ness is that normal service of recipes and randomness on this blog wasn’t possible. Mainly because I didn’t have much time to cook, and if I did, I didn’t have time to write about it. Then there was the sad day that my lovely DSLR camera was appropriated by someone else. I do have a tiny point and shoot but it just doesn’t cut the mustard for me and sadly, nay stupidly, it wasn’t insured, and I am not yet in a position to replace it. I miss the sharpness, the focus, the colours and the depth. I miss my camera.

So, after all that guff,  how has the market been? I’ve been diligently baking those blaas, week after week. Thursday 5am after Thursday 5am. Blaa after blaa. Trayful after trayful. Ovenload after ovenload. I’ve managed to increase my output, although this is not down to me, this is down to the hardest working member of the team, my trusty KMix.

Some months ago, the folks at Kenwood asked if I would like to try one. At this stage my wrists ached, my fingers sobbed, but dedicated as ever, I persevered with the bread. Aren’t I just the martyr?! All jest aside, it was very important to me that I make it and that I prove that I could. It seems silly now, but that was what I was thinking. Back to the trusty KMix. I knew that I needed a mixer for the bread, but I had yet to purchase. So, after a little internet research, I could only say yes, as it looked perfect for the Thursday morning bake offs for the stall.

So this gorgeous, sturdy piece of equipment graces my kitchen counter in a glorious red, and every Thursday morning churns and kneads. The yeast gurgles by the warm oven in snug anticipation. Its companion, a peppercorn blender, awaits its load on the weeks I have time to do a soup.

Testament to it’s sturdiness, was the morning when I, excited and over eager, loaded it to the max, nay beyond the max, and left it mix unsupervised in the corner on the table. I missed it slowly vibrate to the side of the table, and cascade to the floor.

SHRIEK! I plugged it out, picked it up, and, mildly panicked. Peevishly, I plugged it back in and attempted to turn it on once more. Unphased, it recommenced its job, and I, impressed with my hardest worker, returned to my soup.

Now, however, I must reconsider. The market is 2 days a week since mid-November, Thursdays and Fridays, and I can’t continue to bake the bread two days in a row and maintain my sanity. I want to do something different and I can’t help but feel that all of the time and enery the KMix and I put into the bread, could be spent trying new things and enjoying the adventure.

People love the pork and spiced apple sandwich, and they come back week after week for it (which is amazing – thank you). The slow roast lamb and aubergine relish is also a go-er, and I usually offer both. I know that if I make them, I will sell them, and this is a very important factor. If I don’t sell my produce, well then, it’s game over. But, at the risk of a strop, I also want to take risks and try new things and some old favourites. I want to try the salt beef from October again, I want to make more of the black bean chilli from November, the delicious spiced chickpea and feta salad with pomegranate molasses dressing, some more smoked salmon.  I want to have several things on offer every time. Choice and colour, variety and vigour. The problem is, there’s only me to do it, and in order to deliver something must be sacrificed.

So, what to do? Why not be normal and buy the bread from a good source like other people do? Well now, I hate to be normal, it sounds so dull, but it does make sense. Why has it taken me until now to consider it?  I’ve bought in before for the Soho Market with those gorgeous bagels from Carmelli’s in Golders Green in October. I’ve bought bread from Sally Clarkes one day where I just couldn’t bake. They were great! So, the decision has been made, and I feel liberated, and quite excited for the next few weeks.

So, what to expect? Soup, meatballs, maybe savoury muffins! I intend to burrow around my cookbooks and savoury inclinations, and dig out some new recipes, and bring them to you at the stall. I will be back to write about them.

So, until then, I’ll get back to my research and see you soon!

At last, a week where everything went smoothIy, I was beginning to lose hope. I was most pleased with my produce for last weeks market. Overnight slow roast shoulder of pork was delectably tender with a gorgeous crispy crackling. I upped the spicing on the apple relish slightly, and enjoyed the extra kick nestling in the unctous pork. I made many blaas, those fluffy Waterford bread rolls, I’m definitely getting that recipe down now.

Slow Roast Pork Shoulder & Blaas

Blaas

With regard to the rest, the sausage rolls were the most perfect yet, looking uniform and less like distant reformed relatives. The beetroot tartlets ( recipe here) revealed themselves, almost by accident, pretty pink and juicy with a light goat’s cheese blanket. The new addition on the wine front  – Bisol Rose – went down a treat.

Chorizo & Pork Rolls

Beetroot, tomato, goat's cheese & mint tartlets

All perfect so far. Unfortunately, the market was quiet last week. It’s impossible to predict how these things will go. It’s almost safe to say that my level of organisation or otherwise serves as a good barometer for the busyness of the market or not. When I am organised, it’s quiet, when I am disorganised, we sell out early and there’s nothing left. Go figure. Regardless, overall the day worked well, and I was happy at the end of it.

How long more can it continue? Good question! It seems the options are I ramp it up and do another market on other days buffering my diminished income, and making it a realistic prospect, or I retire quietly and gracefully while the going is good, and get back to work. I am really not sure which way it will go right now, but I’ll be at the market once more this week, menu details tbc.

Bisol Rose Prosecco

There’s been time to digest (literally) and to kick back and have a glass of prosecco or two and to think about our stall at the Covent Garden Real Food Market last week. It was a lot of work, but more importantly it was a lot of fun, and a real pleasure to be involved and meet so many lovely and interesting people.

When I was first approached about this earlier this year, I was really keen and full of ideas. Working as I do as a contractor in New Media, there is some flexibility in my job, and I thought I might be free at that point and might have all the time in the world to think, organise and prepare. To come up with some dishes, new and old favourites. I had to do it.

I could only commit to doing it once realistically, as at that stage, caught in the middle of a recession as the rest of the world was (for it is not only about I!), I just didn’t know what my situation would be like, so I chose a date, and settled on that. Of course life has a habit of conspiring against plans, and some things happened which meant that I just didn’t have the time I wanted to do this the way I wanted. My lovely first niece was born, and I would be in Ireland for her christening for 4 days the weekend before the stall. I was also finishing a contract, and tying up all of the loose ends, so I couldn’t take more than a day off, and that was the day of the stall itself.

What to do? I really didn’t know. I approached Denise from The Wine Sleuth and asked her if she would be interested in partnering. We had spoken previously about doing a pop-up bar but it just hadn’t happened yet. She was keen and I was happy. But, still, what to do?

The most important thing was that we offered quality and something to be proud of. I also wanted to contribute and not just be a vessel to promote food products that I like. But I had no time! Time for compromise and thinking laterally.

I thought that it would be lovely if the food were Irish. People always slate Irish food or claim that the cuisine doesn’t exist, which might have been a fair claim in the time of impoverished occupied Ireland, but even then, there was a peasant cuisine, and a good one too. Now, the Irish food scene has a sturdy back bone and lots to offer. We have some superb quality produce, from dairy to meat to fish, oatmeal to flour. Industry is on a smaller scale and produce is generally excellent.

A perfect example of this high quality produce is an artisan one from Cork – Frank Hederman’s smoked salmon. I’ve long been a fan and love it when I go home on homemade soda bread and cucumber pickle. Oh, well, why don’t I do that?! Done.

I called Frank and arranged to visit and purchase some of his lovely fish. He was open to it and very helpful, and provided me with a box perfect for hand luggage (once you’re not flying Ryan Air!), which many Irish eyes queried as I walked past. I could see the internal commentary – WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?! I smiled surreptitiously, and kept my glorious cargo by my side.

I was tired when we got in, spilling a whole bottle of sparkling water on the tube and thinking – argh! the fish! – thankfully it was untouched, the same could not be said for my clothes, but I didn’t care about that. Is the fish ok? Yes? Well, that’s fine then.

Roll on tube delays, little sleep and work the next morning. Home late, and a long day again the next day. Cut to me in the supermarket at 9pm on Wednesday night, the night before the market, buying my bodyweight in cucumbers, wholemeal and plain flour, cider vinegar, sugar and milk. I’d brought my wheels, a two wheel suitcase, drawing much confused attention from the cashier. Are you going on.. er.. holiday? No, I chuckled, but I need to get this stuff home.

And I did. I started slicing cucumbers with my mandoline, but the slices were too thick, so I commenced by hand, watching Sex & the City repeats and consoling myself with some wine as I went. 3 cucumbers. Getting there. 5. Only 5? 5 more?

Maybe I can do just 8? No, do 10. Argh! The torture.

Once complete, I felt relieved and congratulated myself with another glass of wine… Time to heat some cider vinegar with some sugar and salt, just enough to dissolve it, then cool, pour over the cucumbers, and leave to pickle in the fridge over night.

It’s 12am. Surely time for bed now? No, for I was wired. I’m a night owl anyway, and feeling invincible I surveyed by pickled kingdom, had a further tipple, and set off to bed at 1.30am, with the alarm set for 5am to commence soda bread baking.

Now soda bread is surprisingly easy. An old peasant bread, there was no time for aerating or fussing, just mix it all up, and bake it. Divided in four so that it could be quartered to eat in the fields, pricking a hole in each quarter to let the fairies out (yes, really). Cooked on a high heat for 20 minutes and then reduced for 20-25 minutes, you can tell it’s cooked if when you knock on it when turned upside down, it sounds hollow.

So, knock, knock, knock, any fairies there?! Eight loaves later, I surveyed the next batch and thought, I can’t do it. I can’t make another bread, let the fairies out, knock and see if they’re home, and repeat. So, I made a batch of scones, which had no fairies in or out, and finished.

9.30 am. Eeeek! Time to shower after all that baking and run to the market. I hadn’t factored in a number of things. Soda bread is heavy. Very, very  heavy. 9 loaves is bloody ridiculous. My wheels, as I said, are on a case, and I hadn’t the foresight to organise transport thinking that all would be ok. I am invincible, remember? And very, very strong. More problems, butter melts next to hot bread, I discovered this pretty quickly, and my departing and arrival stations both had steps. Bugger.

I am never one to give up, so with one big case, a beach bag (yes!) and a big canvas bag full of my wares, I made my way to Covent Garden to collect the prosecco, which was being delivered that day by the lovely people from Bibendum, who despite knowing me, agreed to my suggestion of meeting the courier on a street corner. Believe it or not, it worked out. Dan is a star for organising and trusting me despite all signs that he shouldn’t. I am one happy customer, and I will be buying from them again.

Time to setup. I whip out my new tablecloth, and borrow some markers, lay out our wares, and scribble our menu. It’s a gorgeous day, the sun is hot, people are smiling, and we are good to go.

And… breathe! Tomorrow is d-day for our Covent Garden Market Stall, sharing with you Londoners the wonder that is Bisol prosecco and Frank Hederman smoked salmon. Both are fantastic products and we’ll be selling them at really fair prices, so that you can try them and judge for yourself. I’ll be making cucumber pickle into the wee hours after work tonight and up at 5am tomorrow baking soda bread (and maybe soda scones?). On Frank’s recommendation I will also be serving the salmon with red onion and capers as they are a good match.

Setting up this stall has been no small feat but it has been a great experience. I loved calling around to Frank’s smokery in Belvelly, Cork. If he could bottle that smell he could retire. Such an interesting man too, a true artisan with loads of information to share. My mother proclaimed en route that she wouldn’t be eating smoked salmon as she couldn’t bear it, yet when Frank offered, and she reticently accepted (based on the smell alone), I caught her sneaking seconds when she got an opportunity. After dropping me at the airport she went home happily with her own packet of smoked salmon, stopping on the way for soda bread, which she gifted to my sister who was very happy indeed.

In Frank’s own words (from the Irish Independent):

How do I know it’s done? Well, this is what I do: I feel the fish through my fingers — imagine the inside of a salmon, the upper front. I put my thumb on the orange bit at the front and feel it at the back, at the skinniest part. I move my finger and go, ‘Yes’ or ‘No.’ It’s an instinct thing. There’s no law to these things. So when the fish is ready, the fish is ready, and when it’s not ready, it ain’t. You leave it until it is ready.

One journalist very kindly said that saying Frank Hederman smokes fish is a bit like saying Mr Steinway makes pianos.

We use beechwood chips, which we have specifically made for us in the UK. The size of the chip dictates the temperature at which it burns, which then, in turn, gives you the smoke that you desire. I suppose you could say that it’s bespoke timber. The curing process is the salting. We’re not Indians in pioneering America and we’re not trying to feed families for the winter. We add flavour, like Lea & Perrins or Colman’s do. When I was starting out, one very clever man told me: “Do not, under any circumstances, smoke volumes of anything. Smoke high value, low volume.” So we did that and it makes a lot of sense.

From the very beginning, we’ve been a low-volume producer, but a very high-quality one, and we have stuck to that rigidly. The Irish market is actually a very small part of what we do. The bulk of it goes to London. We supply all of Selfridges, we do the food halls, the Wonder Bar, the Oyster Bar and all the big restaurants, such as Richard Corrigan’s. We did the Queen’s birthday two years ago.

As for the prosecco, I’ve met Roberto from Bisol before, he’s a real character with a fantastic joie de vivre and lots of knowledge on his favourite topic – prosecco. Some tasting notes from him:

The wine is a straw yellow with a fine, bubbly mousse. On the nose it is fresh as a Spring morning, with hints of rich fruit and wild flowers. Taste it and you’ll experience an explosion of apples and pears. It’s round, generous and will leave you wanting more.

He’s going to join his tomorrow, so do come along, and join in the fun!

It’s rare to get an opportunity to taste and indulge these lovely products  in an informal setting and we’re delighted to offer it.

I am off to work for the day now, I suspect a high coffee intake lies ahead once I get home and get cracking on this enormous to do list!

So, see you tomorrow I hope!

Where: Covent Garden

When: 6 August from 12 noon to 8pm

Price: Bisol Prosecco at £3 per glass. Open sandwich of Frank Hederman Smoked Salmon on homemade soda bread £3.50.

An absolute steal, I am sure you will agree!

You can read my partner in crime, Denise’s details here. She has also got a video interview with Roberto from Bisol which you should definitely check out. Thanks, Denise!

Also check out the NY times on Frank Hederman’s Salmon “Mr. Hederman smokes fish, which is a little like saying Steinway makes pianos.”

Announcing some exciting real world news.

Denise of The Wine Sleuth & I will be manning our very own stall in Covent Garden Summer Market next Thursday 6th August. We’ve been talking about doing a pop up bar for a while, so when Covent Garden asked if we were interested in holding a stall in their Summer market, it seemed like the perfect opportunity.

This is actually happening in real life/off the blog/real people/real food & drink  and not just photographs! We’ll be serving some gorgeous prosecco from the talented people at Bisol, masters of their craft producing prosecco since 1542. We are going to match this with smoked salmon from Frank Hederman, my favourite smoked salmon in the world. Heston Blumenthal is also a fan. It will be accompanied by my homemade brown Irish soda bread and homemade cucumber pickle. Traditional, Irish and utterly delicious.

Sadly, we could only do it once, as we both work full time, but we are very excited, so do come down and say hello and join us for a tipple and some lovely Irish grub next week from 12pm to 8pm. We promise tasty food and drink and lots of fun.