Fanny's Garden - Get Fresh (at the weekend)

Eating fresh, eating local and eating seasonally all seems to make sense, but yet it is something we seem to have lost the know-how to do well. A bit like wearing our Sunday Best. Fanny was as keen as a locally smoked kipper to make sure we all chomped on fresh, local and in season produce - as well as in every imaginable colour. She even produced a handy wall-hanging to pop into our kitchens to remind us what was in season month-by-month. I'll pass on the John Dory, Duckling and Guinea Fowl she recommends for April. Not to be dismayed, she has LOTS of vegetable suggestions too. So, when fellow foodie and full-on Fanny fan, the lovely Jillian from Fresh Food Express sent me a huge box stuffed full of vegetables and other goodies, with a challenge to make some seasonal treats, I only had to skip into the kitchen and think 'What Would Fanny Do'? Well, ok, in all honesty it's all I ever think. And I always skip. Always.

It was all a little lot like Ready, Steady, Cook! as I opened up the carefully packaged parcel... My box was bulging. Veggies and fruit galore from Pillars of Hercules Organic Farm in Fife, my favourite hand churned butter (Mrs Millar had clearly been busy), Arbroath honey, pickles, Arbroath roasted coffee and even some resurrected Scottish Heritage grain flours - Beremeal and Peasemeal - shockingly not from Arbroath. The big question would be, would I end up with Red Tomato on my face or as glad as a Green Pepper? Or was it the other way round? I can always blame Fanny if it all goes horribly wrong, can't I?

Beremeal is something I've tried before, following a memorable but sadly brief jaunt to foodie-heaven Orkney last year. I've been making traditional recipes like bannocks and scones, but wondered, would it make a nice pastry? It has quite a distinctive, nutty taste of days gone by. I used some of the expertly patted, expertly melted butter and a little hot water to bring the flour together to a dough, and lined some mini brioche tins. I fancied a nice deep tart. Well, who doesn't? Sorry, I know it's flan, Fanny despised the use of the word 'tart' in the kitchen, and in the bedroom. It took a bit of coaxing and patching into the tins but then baked blind well. I made Fanny's Leek Tart Flan filling - simply some gently cooked leeks from the box with beaten eggs, a little cream, cheese, and seasoning. Baked again, they turned out, well, just like Fannys (might've). The pastry turned out kind of like a savoury ancestral biscuit in texture and taste.

Fanny would of course always and every time think of a buffet as the answer to delight all. The contents of the oh-so-welcome box just shout Fanny's Garden to me - some of her classic vegetable accompaniments to be clear. I'm not sure what those dedicated organic farmers would reckon to their potatoes being gently steamed, mashed, coloured green and piped into proud peaks to resemble  'trees' (be polite, we all know what we are all really thinking)? The courgettes also get steaming, before being stuffed with breadcrumbs and cheese, and baked. Same for the onions, but they are simmered in gently boiling water first. Then give them a good stuffing. Fanny normally says NEVER to cook vegetables in this way of course. Never boil. Except for this dish, seemingly.

Every display Fanny ever turned her hand to had a few elements of bonkers-ness whimsy. So what better occasion than to trot out her lovely lemon pig creation? Oink. Just a couple of cloves studded for eyes, cocktail sticks for feet and a slither of peel from it's rather considerable underside (I'm already imagining it is real) cut to form ears and a wiggly tail. Fanny never had a carrot sharpener to my knowledge, but the one I have does make gorgeous edible flowers for decoration. Fanny would no doubt spend hours getting Johnnie to work on hers. One of the blood oranges from the box becomes a basket, naturally. Every display should have a basket. Ever the seasonal-freak I've also been foraging recently for Wild Garlic, which made a lovely butter to go with everything. So, do I win? Will Ainslie Harriet say I've done well? It's seasonal, stuffed with Scottish produce and fresh. And brightly coloured. Surely the lemon pig is worth a prize on it's own.

Fresh Food Express sent me this box of goodies to play with, and they would also like to send you something similarly seasonal - all you have to do is enter using the Rafflcopter thingy-ma-jig below, leave a comment on this blog post and gain a few extra entries while you are at it! Don't panic, you don't have to colour your potatoes green. Fresh Food Express will send you your prize directly, if the Rafflecopter thingy-ma-jig selects you as the winner. Ready, Steady, Fanny On! (UK entries only folks)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Merry Crustmas one and all!

With Christmas well and truly over, presents tidied neatly away and the tree starting to look a little shabby, Fanny Cradock moves swiftly onto making pies, naturally. They are simply a must for the New Year, and super for using up any old bits and bobs of scraps that happen to be left lying around after the festivities. Of course, for Fanny that means rabbits, lamb kidneys and pigeons. Things are a little different in my kitchen though, so it's chestnuts, cranberries and some spring onions for me. Not sure what Fanny would think. Fanny whizzes all her various animal parts up into a wonderful raised pie crust, so I'm sure I can too...

Fanny makes her hot water crust 'paste' with self-raising flour of course, milk, water and pure lard. She calls it English Raised Pie Paste. She gives an alternative fancier French Raised Pie Paste (Pâté à Foncer) which replaces the lard with butter, however she warns very strongly that under NO circumstances should a lard replacement be used if making the English version. She probably wouldn't approve of my vegetable fat based lard substitute Trex in that case. For probably read definitely.

Fanny mixes the water with the milk, and melts the 'lard' gently in it until it reaches boiling point. It's then flung into the sifted flour and beaten vigorously until it comes together into a smooth, thick paste. Fanny then kneads it until it is even smoother. The English version is kneaded on a wooden board, while the French demands a marble one. Not sure what the Veggie version should be, so I just use the counter. Either way it should be used immediately otherwise it will become hard and cold, just like Fanny herself, some bolder than I might suggest. Keeping it warm is key, in contrast to other pastry which must be kept cool. Fanny rolls her out on top of the cooker while the oven is on.

Fanny fills her pies with pâté and hard boiled eggs. I try to recreate the pâté by blitzing up the chestnuts, spring onions and cranberries before mixing in a perfectly ordinary egg. Fanny makes a large raised pie, but I have a lovely 'individual' baking tray thingy so I line them out with the still warm hot water paste, pop in some pâté, place half a boiled egg in the centre, pack round more pâté and seal on a lid of pastry with a little brush of milk. Obviously with a little leaf fashioned out of pastry scraps on top too. Above all garnish and presentation.

Fanny bakes her pie in a low oven for a long time, until it looks crisp and brown. My little individual ones take around 45 minutes before coming out, cooling slightly and then being unmoulded. Fanny leaves hers until the next day in the refrigerator all ready to serve to unwelcome guests popping round uninvited between festivities. The finished pies are lovely, the hot water crust is so crisp and tasty, easy to make and I am sure versatile. Many pies to come. After all, not a rabbit, pigeon or lambs liver in sight. Merry Crustmas one and all.