Preparing the cherry brandy or ‘Kriekenborrel’ as we called it in Belgium, is the first step towards Christmas and winter for me. On Christmas eve when I was a child, I was allowed one single drunken cherry in a small dainty glass as a treat. This is how memories are made, and how time and time again when Christmas comes, you need certain flavours to transport you back to the past. Nostalgia and Christmas go hand in hand. It is the one western tradition that is still going strong. People prepare things like this cherry brandy and plum pudding months in advance. The anticipation grows in the jars, and by every spoonful of brandy that is poured over the pudding every week.
Preserving fruit in ‘Jenever’ which is almost identical to Gin, has been a custom in our parts for many decades. It was particularly popular in the 1950’s when my grandmother was young. Because my mother grew up with it, it was sentimental to her, which is why she taught me how to make it. I still have the last jar of cherries my mum and I drowned in Eau de Vie in 1998. It is quite special, because the jar holds memories as well as cherries. In my kitchen I have jars from 2006, 2010, 2011 and 2013. Some I give away, ladling the cherries and booze out into smaller jars to decorate with a ribbon and the date. They go to people I know will appreciate my precious preserve. Because I part with memories of making them and hope they will be cherished….
Drinks
Quince Ratafia
Quince really are a mystical fruit. They hang like lanterns from the trees, forcing the branches to bend down with their weight. One can not ignore their smell, how they fill your kitchen with that sweet incense-like scent. The smell far sweeter than they really are, because as far as fruits go, they are very tart. So tart that they are considered inedible raw.
Recipes over time always require you to cook quinces, and cook them long and slow. Some authors claim you should never put spices with quinces but most instruct you to add cinnamon, cloves, peper and more sweet spices.
Quinces are responsible for the word marmalade as their Portuguese word is ‘marmelo’ and they were made into fruit cheeses named marmalades. The marmalades were served after dinner as a digestive and they were often prescribed by apothecaries to cure minor ailments.
The pear shaped yellow fruits were made into pies, preserved whole and in form of a syrup and they were also made into Ratafia. Ratafias were infused alcohols much like the Amaretto we know today. It could be made with apricot kernels, bitter almonds – which produce the original Amaretto, cherry kernels and cherries, and our beautiful quinces.
Ratafia of quinces was popular in the 18th century in England, and in the 17th and 18th in France. The following recipe is that of Vincent La Chapelle, the master cook to the fourth earl of Chesterfield, William IV, the Prince of Orange, John V of Portugal and even the mistress of Louis XV of France: Madamme de Pompadour.
Like with so many historical writers, he borrowed a lot of his recipes of another author, in this case the French Francois Massialot who published a book on court cookery and confectionery in 1692. These two gentlemen both share recipes for Quince Ratafia, but La Chapelle instructs us to bring the quince juice to a boil, while Massialot does not. They also use different spices, making the end result not the same drink at all.
You must have some Quinces, and rasp them with a Grater; all being grated, you must have a Piece of strong Cloth, put in a small handful, and squeese it with all your Might, that the Juice may come from it; when all is squeesed and you have all the Juice, put it in a Preserving pan, let it take just one single Boiling, and let it cool; being cooled, measure two Quarts of Juice and two Quarts of Brandy, Measure by Measure, and clarify some Sugar; to each two Quarts, ten Ounces of Sugar, a Piece of Cinnamon, four Cloves, and three or four Grains of white Pepper whole; stop up your Jug very close, put it aside for two or three Months, put it through a Straining-bag, until it come very clear, and put it up in Bottles flopped very close.
Vincent la Chapelle, The Modern Cook, London, 1733
In 1830 ‘The Cook’s Dictionary’ by Richard Dolby instructs us to leave the scrapings of quince for 24 hours until they start to ferment, then extract the juice and add it to spiced brandy. We’re not going to ferment the quince, I will try that next year as I just caught the last of the quinces of the year at the market. And I’m going to leave out the spices because I want to know how it tastes like without them, quince have such a delicate flavour.
What is your favourite quince recipe?…
We shall drink Lambswool on the Twelfth Night
Although I was brought up with a lot of Pagan traditions, living in the city of Antwerp meant that some customs were harder to follow than others. As city dwellers far removed from any orchard or field, we were ignorant to the traditional rites surrounding harvest and sowing time. If there is no nature to honour, no field to gather around the cleansing fire, the feasting quickly becomes part of the past and forgotten.
Industrialisation has brought us wealth and the choice of matching shoes with handbags on a regular tuesday morning. It has brought the technical bits and bobs we all love and loathe. The big world has become smaller and the challenges bigger. The lucky few still live outside of the ever growing concrete cities. We follow their lives on Instagram with a sense of nostalgia, as if we have ever experienced living surrounded by trees and liberating fields and forests, and then tragically lost it.
But that is what it is, we have lost something, and most of us can feel it. There have never been more depressed people, nor have there ever been more people who are unhealthy because of their eating habits, eating too much rather than starving, but malnourished nonetheless. Our daily bread is soiled with adulteration, slowly making us ill. Animals are kept away from fields and live their ever shortening lives on the concrete floors of factory farms to keep the cost of your daily need low, fruit is left on the trees to rot because farmers can’t afford to harvest it, the price a farmer gets for his milk hasn’t gone up in 20 years (based on Belgian farms) so milk is being sprayed onto the soil of the farmland where the cows can no longer roam freely because of bureaucratic nonsense about fertilizer. Small scale generation long fishermen turn their boats into flower beds because the fishing quotas set out to protect fish stocks have made it so that only the big destructive factory fishing vessels can make a living, scooping up the fish only for part of it to be actually consumed and the rest turned into animal feed because their nets just catch too much for it all to be sold and cooked by us humans. The fisherman that could have made his day by catching one Dover Sole, now has to trow it back, while the big monsters take and take and kill the sustainable fishing industry.
We got lost as humans, because we lost part of our human nature.
Let today be an Epiphany.
The Epiphany is the Christian feast that concludes the twelve days of Christmas. In Pre-Christian pagan traditions this marks the time for Wassail. The practice of ‘wassailing’ meant singing and drinking in the apple orchards on the Twelfth Night to awaken the trees, to warn of the evil spirits and pray for a good harvest in the autumn. It could be that the feast of Wassail comes from the Celtic festival called ‘La Mas Ubhail’, the Feast of the Apple. Wassail comes from ‘waes hael’ meaning ‘be thou healthy’ or ‘be whole’, a salutation in Old English. During the feast these words would be addressed to each other and to the oldest apple tree in the orchard.
A drink traditional to Wassail is called ‘Lambswool’ and it is very possible that ‘La Mas Ubhail’ got phonetically Anglicised, to ‘Lamasool’ and later ‘Lambswool’. In historical books we often see that a lot of words were written down phonetically, resulting in a number of different ways to note down one single word.
Robert Herrick, a mid 17th century poet mentioned the custom of Wassailing and Lambswool in his poem about about Twelfth Night, we also get an idea of the recipe too:
Next crown the bowl full With gentle lamb’s wool Add sugar, nutmeg and ginger, With store of ale too; And thus ye must do To make a wassail a swinger
Give then to the king And queen wassailing : And though with ale ye be whet here, Yet part from hence As free from offence As when ye innocent met here.
The drink Lambswool is a mulled ale, poured over hot apple puree, although some people swear by whole apples, or apple pieces cooked in spiced cider or ale. However, as far as a drink goes, you can’t swallow a whole apple, nor can you swallow apple pieces so it is most probable that the recipe containing whole apples is just derived from the recipe made with apple puree. It is possible that the soft puree resembled a lambs fleece to people in the old days, resulting in giving it the name of what they associated it with, lambs wool.
Another reason for thinking that an apple puree was used it that this is the end of the season, so the apples which are left in times before refrigeration and fancy techniques to keep fruit from ripening, would not have been the prettiest of the bunch. An hot and spiced apple puree fortified with ale would be warming on a january evening, and would allow people to prepare it in a kettle rather than an oven which is used for the recipe with whole apples. Remember this is a country dish and ovens were a privilege for the well-to-do. But the sugar in the dish also tells us this wasn’t a drink for the poor, it could have been a special treat from the lord of the manor, or from the farmer to his farm labourers.
Last year I spoke to you about the intriguing Twelfth Cake, a fruit cake elaborately decorated with sugar or wax figurines which was also a privilege for the well-to-do. This cake, which is also mentioned by Herrick in his poem also started of as a humble ‘plum cake’ for the feast of Wassail. City folk picked up on it and adjusted the cake to their festive needs, making it the centrepiece of the table and causing queues in front of bakeries. Because it became popular in the city and with the wealthy, we get our first recipe for it in a 1803 book. A recipe for Lambswool is more difficult to find, as the drink remained in the countryside. So judging from the poem of Robert Herrick, I came up with this recipe for you.
Lambswool
serves 6-8
What do you need
- Bramley or Cox stewing apples, 500 gr (peeled and cored about 300 gr)
- water, 100 ml
- sugar 100 gr
- freshly grated nutmeg, 1 teaspoon
- ginger powder, 1 teaspoon
- a good ale, 750 ml
Method
Peel and cut your apples in small pieces and place in a pot along with 100 ml of water and the sugar and spices. Stew until soft and puree so there are no bits left.
When ready to serve, heat up the apple puree and add the ale while whisking. You should get a nice froth while doing so. Serve at ones.
Are you celebrating the Twelfth Night? Or are you having a slice of King cake, galette Du Roi or Driekoningen taart? Or are you wassailing and drinking Lambswool?
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| Ancient apple trees in Sussex |
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To make Ypocras
And then it is suddenly christmas again… it seems only yesterday that it was september and now we are only moments away from januari. It will be march in the blink of an eye and when it’s august you will be wondering where those months have gone to.
When you are a child, the days seem to drag on like weeks and the weeks like months but when you are all grown up… you wonder where that hour of free time went to and when you are finally able to start reading that book you’ve got to read in the summer.
To warm your spirits after the last busy weeks of the year 2013, a year that has brought me excitement, friendship and a new venture of which I will tell you all about very soon – I had mulled wine on my mind.
The sweet scent of the warm wine and spices always transport me back to the christmas markets in Aachen. My parents and I would drive to Germany especially for it each year. Even from a young age I would be allowed half a cup of mulled wine to warm my hands and to bring a rosy blush to my ice cold cheeks. It was one of the highlights of my year, to take in the different scents in the air, the aniseed of the artisan candy being made, the greasy smell of Reibekuchen, the aroma of spices blended with chocolate from the Aachener Printen biscuits and the mulled wine and rum.
Sometimes the very unlikely of foods and drink can be the ones that have been around for centuries and some recipes never changed very much.
Mulled wine or ypocras as its name was for centuries, has been around since the Middle Ages but mulled spirits pre-date Medieval times. I found a recipe for a fine spiced wine in a Roman cookery book that looks a lot like the recipe for ypocras. It is commonly thought that the drink is named after the Greek physician Hippocrates, however this is not so. It is more likely that ypocras has this name because the herbs and spices were strained through a conical filter bag known as a Manicum Hippocraticum – sleeve of Hippocrates. The Old French name for Hippocrates was ypocrate which explains the etymology of the Middle English name ypocras, hipocras, ipocras, ippocras, hvpocras, hvppocra, and many more variations.
The spice mixture for ypocras was known as ‘Gyle’ and usually contained cinnamon, grains of paradise, long pepper and cardamom pods. These spices were bruised with a pestle and mortar and then left to steep in the red or white wine overnight or possibly even longer to soak up all the flavours.
One can assume that ypocras was used for medicinal purposes rather than for feasting as in recipes it is often mentioned as the perfect tipple after dinner to aid digestion. The oldest recipes therefore include many more herbs which will have given the spiced drink more of a cough syrup flavour than the enjoyable winter warmer we know today.
The first English recipe for Ipocras dates from approximately 1390 and goes as follows:
Pur fait Ypocras,
Treys Unces de canell. Et iij unces de gyngener. spykenard de Spayn le pays dun deneres. garyngale. clowes, gylofre. poivr long, noiez mugadez. maziozame cardemonij de chescun i.qrt douce grayne de paradys flour de queynel de chescun dimid unce de toutes. soit fait powdour and serve it forth.
The recipe is more a list of ingredients and assumes the cook knows the proportions and that a red or white wine is to be used. Sugar was a precious ingredient and only for the lord and master so Ypocras would only contain sugar in the wealthy homes while the common folk sweetened their drink with honey.
Ypocras was common enough to be mentioned in literature as Chaucer wrote In his Merchant’s tale in the 14th century “He drynketh Ypocras, Clarree and Vernage Of spices hoote t’encreessen his corage.” and John Russell’s The Boke of Nurture even contains a ypocras recipe in verse.
Through history we find a vast amount of recipes for this spiced drink, but not only for the spiced wine. Before hops were being used in beer, there was a mixture of herbs known as the ‘Gruut’ that was used to flavour and preserve the beer. Mankind has always been searching for flavourings to tinkle the taste buts.
After the 16th century recipes become more richer including more sugar, oranges, lemons, almonds and apples. My recipe uses cinnamon, cloves, long pepper, nutmeg and clementine juice with a few tablespoons of home made sloe gin. I used raw cane sugar which worked rather well instead of white loaf sugar.
Sometimes I will add marjoram and cardamom like in the first recipe but because of the marjoram it started to taste rather savoury. It is still very pleasant and not a flavour you’d expect in a mulled wine so it is a definite option to add it if you want something different. The long pepper added enough spice so I didn’t need to use the dreaded ginger but if you are a ginger lover, feel free to add it as you please. I would have loved to add Grains of paradise but I had no way of getting my hands on them.
Regula Ypocras
What do you need
- 2 bottles of red wine, not your cheapest, not your most expensive.
- 4 buds of long pepper, crushed – email me if you can’t find it, I know where you can get it.
- 5 cloves1 fresh bay leaf
- 1 teaspoon of grated nutmeg, freshly grated please
- 1 stick of cinnamon
- 100 g raw cane sugar
- the peel and juice of 1 clementine
- 3 tablespoons of sloe gin, or cherry brandy, you can omit this
Optional
- 1 sprig of marjoram
- 1 pod of cardamom, bruised
Method
heat up 200 ml of red wine with the sugar and the spices, juice and peel until it dissolves, boil for 10 minutes and then simmer for 5 more. Add the marjoram if you are using it and leave to cool, when nearly cold or cold, add the rest of the wine and the sloe gin and leave to take up those lovely flavours overnight. You can even freeze the wine and spice mixture before adding the rest of the wine.
Strain, bottle and keep in the fridge until needed then gently heat up before use – don’t allow it to boil or you will loose the alcohol and we won’t want that.
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Hopping down in Kent – Hop brandy
While driving through the rolling Kentish countryside I can’t help but shout out ‘Oast house’ when I spot the somewhat fairytale like conical rooftops of the hop kilns. I nurture my inner child with my endless enthusiasm for things other people might not even notice anymore.
These monuments of agricultural industrialisation were used for drying the freshly picked green hop flowers. They usually had two or three storeys, some with perforated floors on which the hops were spread out. On the ground flour was a charcoal-fired oven spreading warm air through the kiln which is permitted to pass through the perforated floors to dry the hops. The white wooden cowl on the roof rotates with the wind to allow air to circulate and moisture to escape to prevent mould. Although we are more used to seeing round Oast houses, the kilns started out square shaped. The earliest example dates back to the mid 1700’s and can be found in Cranbrook.
Hops
have been grown in Britain since the the late 15th century and probably
even earlier. They were introduced to Britain from Flanders where
hopped beer had become the fashion. Hops don’t only add bitterness to
beer but also act as a natural preservative. In the early Victorian era
hop growing became the most important industry in Kent as tastes changed
from un-hopped ale to more bitter beer.
The
need for hops was especially great due to the late Georgian law
forbidding the use of any other ingredients than hops and malt in beer. A
year after the law was approved, the drum roaster -used to roast malt-
was invented by Daniel Wheeler. By roasting the malt the brewers could
legally give extra flavouring and colouring to the beer by creating very
dark, roasted malt for the use in Porters and Stouts.
Of course those large amounts of hops needed to be picked and so each september the destitute families from London and sometimes even further away, came ‘hopping down to Kent’. If they were not completely pennyless, they could afford the ticket for the ‘Hop pickers Special’ train which left from London Bridge. If they were too poor, they had to walk to Kent. For six weeks they would live on site in hop huts to help with the hop harvest. Although the work was rough, it was a time especially the children looked forward to all year. Hop picking in Kent was a welcome change from the slums is which most of these families lived. And although the hop huts were far from luxury, it was still a welcome breath of fresh air compared to the miserable fog in London. Most of the time it would only be the woman and children who came to pick the hops. Unless if they were unemployed, the men stayed behind in the cities and worked at their jobs in the factories and the docks. The money the woman earned by hop picking was often the only pot of money they could truly manage themselves. Back in the city they would be lucky if their husbands wages weren’t spent on ale every payday.
Hop picking in Kent in this way continued until far in the 1960s, even after the introduction of the first machines. To this day, hop pickers still arrive in the Kentish hop gardens by the beginning of autumn, although now they come from much further places usually Eastern Europe. British labourers are too expensive to hire and usually don’t want to do the work. Hop picking is now far from the ‘Londoners’ holiday’ it was ones considered.
To have a peek in a hop garden, stay tuned for my next post where I will also be cooking with hops.
Today I bring you Hop brandy, a drink not very historical as I haven’t been able to find any reference to it in my books and online. It was my teacher in beer class who told us he brews a bottle of hop brandy once and a while and I got intrigued.
It’s is not safe to brew beer from wild hops, hops need to be tested for certain compounds to be ok to brew with.
Hop brandy
What do you need
Hops, I used Kentish Goldings, enough to fill your bottle of choice
A bottle of Eau de vie, Jenever or another flavourless grain alcohol
Method
Finding your hops will be trickiest part, I used beautiful Kentish Goldings which I ordered from a farm. Let me know if you need the email address of the hop farm. 200 grams left me with quite a large bag.
Back to the recipe, sort out the prettiest flowers and put them in your bottle all the way to the top.
Fill the bottle completely, leave to mature for a few months.
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Nourishing Stout and Oat Drink
My mother always told me she and my grandmother loved drinking a Trappist beer when they were breastfeeding, she said that it was nurturing for new moms and that in the old days the nurses would actually bring a beer to the mothers to stimulate the lactation process.
But it isn’t just a myth, if a nursing mother drinks a good old pint of beer, the yeast and hops in it will help increase her milk supply. Hops are also calming, so good for the new mom. Brewers yeast is also taken as a supplement to boost the milk supply by mothers who do not enjoy the taste of a lovely beer.
Trappist is a Belgian beer but I think Stout is the prefect beer for this recipe as I’ve heard stories about mothers receiving a Stout when they have given birth, a Nourishing Stout would have been better but sadly those haven’t been brewed commercially for decades. Milk Stout is called that way because it used to contain lactose, a sugar derived from milk. Lactose doesn’t only add sweetness to the beer, it also adds calories which is why together with the yeast and hops in the beer it was given to lactating mothers. Although Milk and Nourishing Stouts only became popular after the First World War, the usage of lactose and the mentioning or illustrating of it on the beer labels was forbidden after the Second World War due to rationing.
The only surviving Milk Stout is Mackeson’s, I came across it by accident when I was at Tesco’s a few months ago, the can still shows a milk churn that has been Mackeson’s trademark since it was first brewed in 1907 at the Mackeson’s brewery in Hythe, Kent. Mackeson’s is now brewed by InBev so I doubt that there is still any lactose in the beer today.
As I am creating this concoction for my friend and fellow blogger Zita who gave birth to a healthy little boy a few hours ago, I am going to make it as nutritious as I
can.
Now luckily I know Zita does like an occasional beer so I’m not
bringing her anything she wouldn’t like to drink. I am including a way to remove the alcohol from the beer in the recipe, so it is ‘safe’ to drink for those who are worried about getting their newborn drunk. This drink isn’t
solely for nursing mothers, it is also for the dad, the friend, the guy
in the street and the health food lover. It is packed with nutrition.
To go with the Stout I’m making my own Oat milk.
Oats have a low glycemic index, which can help to regulate blood sugar
levels and make you feel fuller for longer. They also contain lots of vitamins,
minerals and antioxidants, are a good source of protein and complex carbohydrates.
You can use 3 types of oats for this recipe, the groats which are the oat kernels with the hulls removed, rolled
oats which are steamed groats that have been rolled out and flattened and steel
cut oats which are the oat groats chopped up. Steel cut oats are therefore the
best choice as they contain more of their original nutrients but they are not as easy to find as rolled oats.
To break down the phytic acid content which makes the oats more digestible and reduce anti-nutrients so your body can soak up a lot more of the nutrients, I soaked the oats with cider vinegar. You can also use live yoghurt as lactic acid fermentation.
This drink is for all those who love Stout, if you don’t care for Stout I don’t recommend you try this drink as it is quite bitter. The bitter Stout works perfectly with the sweet oats, and even has notes of a coffee with lots of milk.
Before you skip to my recipe, have a look at our feast for Zita!
Maybe you remember the Virtual baby shower we did last summer, today were are back with a whole new table of food, follow the links to the blogs to read the other ladies recipes:
Our Menu
Giulia: Scarpaccia
Regula: Nourishing Stout & Oat Drink
Beth: Moghrabieh Salad with Preserved Lemon and Coriander Pesto
Jasmine: Whole Wheat Flour Cocoa Cookies
Artemis: Kasopita – Cheese Pie from Εpirus
Sarka: Kiwi Carpaccio with Pecans and Manuka Honey
Emiko: Ricotta and Dark Chocolate Cake
Sneige: Pomegranate Curd with Seedy Pine Nut Crust
Simone: Pistache Raspberry Cakes
Karin: Fresh Pea Souffle with Goat Cheese
Nourishing Stout and oat drink
What do you need
Start the evening before, or in the morning.
To prepare the oats:
- Steel cut or Rolled oats, 1 cup (you can use the groats if you can find them)
- apple cider vinegar (or live yoghurt), 1 teaspoon
- water, 2 cups
For the drink:
- water, 2 cups
- 1 date, stoned (2 if you like it sweeter) and cut finely
- Stout or Guinness, 1 cup
- a fine sieve
- a blender or food processor
Method
- Combine the oats, cider vinegar (or yoghurt) and water in a bowl, cover loosely and leave to soak for at least 8 hours.
8 hours later …
- Drain your oats by straining them through a fine sieve, discard the soaking water
- Rinse the oats gently to remove the starch
- Put the oats and the date into the food processor (I used my Vitamix) and blend
To make this drink with alcohol free stout:
- add one cup of stout to a small saucepan and bring to the boil, simmer for 5 minutes then let it cool. (the drink will taste less bitter with this method)
- Add two cups of water and one cup of stout and blend again until creamy
- At this point you can strain your oat milk through a fine sieve again to remove any of the oats, I choose not to, to keep the drink smooth and a little thicker. Discarding the oats is trowing away nutritious food.
- If you want to strain, you can keep the leftover oats to make cake or pancakes.
Leave the drink to rest for 30 minutes – 1 hour before use
Enjoy!
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Sloe Gin
I had my mind set on Sloe Gin
I had sloes on my mind the last two times we drove up to Kent…
On both occasions I went home without them…
My eyes were on honesty boxes by the road, people selling produce from their garden at car boot sales and little blue-ish dots in the trees we drove passed.
The location of sloe trees is a well guarded secret of those who have discovered them on foraging trips. This makes them even more mysterious to me, I just had to have some sloes. I heard stories saying the native British sloe is so very rare it only grows from ancient trees. They look like black olives, and like olives best not eaten straight from the tree. Sloes are very tart and mostly used to make jams to accompany cheese and for making sloe gin…
The
sloe or ‘Prunus Spinosa’ is a berry from the blackthorn. Sloes or blackthorns were planted
around the countryside in the 16th and 17th century as hedges around the
fields to keep the cattle in. The word ‘sloe’
comes from the Old English slāh, in Old High German slēha and in Middle Dutch sleuuwe.
Traditionally when making sloe gin,
the berries must be gathered after the first frost and one must prick
each berry with a thorn taken from the blackthorn bush. Sloe gin is made
by infusing gin with the berries. Sugar is required to ensure the
juices are extracted from the fruit. Some swear by freezing the berries
before use.
But I had no sloes…
Until a lovely lady offered to send me some of the sloes she had gathered to maker her own boozy preserves. I must say I was quite nervous for them to arrive as they are after all perishable. Luckily they weren’t reduced to jam and I was able to use them thanks to Claire who froze them for the journey. That same day the sloes would be drowned by Gin…
It is so easy to make, the hard part is keeping yourself from opening it too soon to drink it. I’ve been told a ten year old sloe gin has a wonderful flavour… so I decided to hide a bottle from myself so I can actually try it. I think I might put it behind my 8 year old cherry brandy I was able to save.
To Make you own sloe gin!
What do you need
500g ripe sloes
250g sugar
1 litre of Gin, I used No.3 London Dry Gin
Method
- Prick the sloes with a thorn from the tree or a toothpick
- Put them in a suitably sized Kilner or jam jar
- Pour over the
sugar and the gin - Close the lid
- Shake and shake every day until the sugar
has dissolved - Store in a dark cupboard
After 3 months
- Strain out the sloes using muslin, bottle and store in a dark
cupboard - Try to wait 1 to 10 + years before opening a bottle.Thank you Claire for the sloes, I will drink to your health when I open a bottle!
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Regula Ysewijn is a food writer, stylist and photographer, with a particular interest in historical recipes. he is a Great Taste Awards judge and a member of The Guild of Food Writers, as well as one of the two judges on 'Bake Off Vlaanderen', the Belgian version of 'The Great British Bake-Off'. A self-confessed Anglophile, she collects old British cookbooks and culinary equipment in order to help with her research. She is the author of 5 books: Pride and Pudding the history of British puddings savoury and sweet, Belgian Café Culture, the National Trust Book of Puddings, Brits Bakboek and Oats in the North, Wheat from the South. 
