foodandtravel

A weekend in Malmö

12th May 2019 by Regula 10 Comments

**In payed collaboration with Malmö town.

The city of Malmö kindly invited my husband and me to come and explore the town for 2,5 days. I had visited before because I have friends in town who persuaded me to come over to Parabere Forum, a conference for women in gastronomy whose aim it is to fight for gender equality, that is if you get in because although I was invited to join the conference as press last year, this year suddenly my application to join – yes you’re reading this well, you have to apply to be allowed to pay to come to this conference – was turned down… so far for equality.

Back to Malmö a town where equality is also important, yet it is less about gender and more about general equality which I think is incredibly important as a first step. Malmö used to have a bad reputation, it stood in the shadow of bright and buzzing Copenhagen which is only 30 minutes across the Øresund bridge – known from the tv series – from Malmö. I’ve visited Copenhagen just for one day but can firmly say I prefer Malmö because it is smaller and more quaint.

You arrive in Malmö by the train station and walk across the river with the majestic Savoy hotel towering over you. A small street takes you to one of the most beautiful large town squares of Malmö. The first thing I notice is the cool advertising on the side of the building of an old apothecary, a well restored ghost sign you’ll see a couple more of around town. Malmö is calm, there aren’t many cars and the locals are incredibly chill and friendly. I think you would have a hard time upsetting a Malmonian….

Latvian Rye Trifle and a visit to Riga

8th December 2017 by Regula 16 Comments

In februari last year I went on a backpacking trip to Latvia, I was doing some research for one of my projects and with it met up with a woman I had met at the Oxford Symposium.

One of the most memorable things I ate while in Latvia was a Rye bread trifle with cranberries on lingonberries they call ‘Rupjmaizes kārtojums’. It is made by grating the iconic sweet Rye bread and lightly frying the crumbs then layering it with cream and curd cheese and the tart red cranberries they use so often in their cuisine. It was offered to me by the host in ‘Zaku Krogs’ a most wonderful Jamaica Inn-like ex-rabbit hunters Inn in Jurkalne which is about an 2,5 hour drive from Riga. The drive there takes you through forests which are laden with berry shrubs and strange small villages with Soviet-style blocks of flats.

On our way to Jurkalne we visited Ildze’s friend who works in the office of a sprat canning factory where all the people from the surrounding villages work. It was a unique insight to how this works, the sprats are delivered daily and extremely fresh and processed that same day. Processing means they are sorted by size and arranged on hooks by a group of women, then they are smoked – no artificial dye here – and then another group of women sorts the sprats neatly in their tins like braided hair. Then the sprats get a generous blob of salt on them, rapeseed oil and the tins are closed and finally pasteurised….

It all starts with fire. How Pure Food Camp in Sweden opened up my eyes to nature

3rd October 2017 by Regula 8 Comments

I didn’t really know what to expect when I stepped on a plane with final destination Sweden in what was possibly one of the most dreadful moments of my life. My heart was pounding in my throat because I just left my gravely ill and much beloved 15 year old cat in the very loving hands of my husband. I sat on the Copenhagen station platform waiting for a train to Malmo in Sweden, I felt utterly alone and I just wanted to be home.

But suddenly I looked up and there I saw the wonderful smile of Sarah from Vienna. Like me she had a huge backpack, accompanied by a small one, dressed in outdoorsy clothing but in a far better mood than I was. Excited she asked if I was traveling to the food camp and we started talking, trying to figure out delayed and cancelled trains and word by word I was letting go of the overpowering sadness and worry.

We boarded a train and then a taxi which brought us to a beech forest in Skane. We were greeted by Lotta Ranert, creator of Pure Food Camp and one of the two women who brought us all together here and Camilla, the owner. There was cheese to welcome us, cheese made by Cecilia Timner, 20 footsteps from where we were standing, made with the milk of the pale creamy fudge-coloured cows we heard mooing in the distance.

Nothing happens in my brain here before I have made sure we have this fire and it’s going and we can make food and tea.

The camp existed out of a couple of yurts and a big mother-yurt which was the heart of the site. In the centre of that yurt was a warming wood fired stove with water boiler that created a spectacular display of steam, there were pots, pans, crockery and a couple of essentials. Each of our own yurts had a sweet little blue door, painted with illustrations. Two little beds with a duvet and woolly blanket in each yurt, a water container, oil lamps, matches, a kerosene fire and a bowl to hold water to wash ourselves. It was a simple set up but yet it felt like luxury.
Our outdoor loo was of the glamorous sort with a see through roof, wooden walls and an actual toilet seat. Much more than I was expecting but very welcome indeed on moments when going behind a big tree wasn’t an option.

After talking us through how to tend to the oil lamps and kerosene fire, loo and a few other practicalities we were expected up a gentle hill where a large table was set with vintage teacups and plates ready for “Fika”. Fika can be compared to a simple afternoon tea yet less formal and it can happen several times a day. One of the Swedes told us in many Swedish companies Fika is even a big thing, Fika is serious business and should not be skipped.

The kanelbullar (cinnamon swirl buns, see my recipe here), almondbullar and chocolatabullar (balls made of butter, cacao and oats) were passed around the table laughing as if we were at day 5 not hour 2 into the camp week. Tea and coffee came from tall sturdy steel teapots who hung from the smoking open fires. It was supposed to be raining I remembered, but instead here we were, outside, drinking hot drinks and eating all kinds of bullar while secretly gazing around us, taking in the details of the forest, savouring this unique moment in our lives.

The sun was lowering on the sky and Camilla, the owner of the Nyrups Naturhotel that was our yurt camp introduced us to the menu of the dinner we would be cooking on the fires. Two vegetable starters, a main and a pudding, each in a basket, just the ingredients and the suggestion of what to do with them. Sarah from Vienna and I teamed up and went for the main. In our basket we found locally caught perch, potatoes, cavollo nero, a selection of forest mushrooms and a couple of carrots. Sarah did potatoes and pickled carrots while I fried the cavollo nero and the mushrooms in plenty of butter and a touch of fire in a pan I’d love to call my own. When it was time for the fish I thought of a recipe I learned to make a week before by a friend in England, cooked in clay, straight onto the embers. Lacking clay we used every bit of newspaper we could find – although it was meant for starting fires – rubbed the fish with lemony wood sorrel we quickly foraged in the last evening light, a bit of thyme, juniper berries and a healthy doze of pepper, salt and a good knob of butter or two. The fish we wrapped in baking parchment because we did not have a large leaf at hand, then we wrapped each parcel in the soaking wet newspaper. Everyone went in to start dinner while a couple of us stayed behind to cover all the open fires with pans of fish parcels.

By the time we had finished our starters: cauliflower, bacon and potato by Gabriella from Spain, Emily from England and Helen from Germany and beetroot & Swedish halloumi by Kerstin also from England we gathered the parcels and removed the now charred newspaper. The perch was to my great amusement perfectly done, not too far, pearly white and very moist. Everyone got a parcel and as a side the kale and mushrooms I had fried on the fire earlier, parts of the kale slightly crisp because fire tends to lick the inside of your pan. Fire adds a seasoning you can’t recreate, because it’s also the smoke in your eyes, the heat on your hands and arms that add to the taste of cooking food in the wild.The wood sorrel is definitely a new favourite leaf to use, I wonder if I can make it grow in my wild garden at home… Fair haired Titti Qvarnström – our other host and the first female head chef in Sweden to receive a Michelin star – was sitting next to me at dinner and she approved of the fish so that’s good enough for me!

Pudding was just that, a delightful cake skilfully baked in a tin on the open fire by former UK Masterchef winner Keri. The darker bits were the best, we had seconds, drowned in a custard she made from scratch and on a temperamental fire, no mean feat.
By now I bless myself and the stars to be here. This is already an unforgettable trip and were only just started our journey. I realise however that we are all so out of touch with nature. When you have no electricity things become simple and difficult at the same time.

Image by Torbjorn Lagerwall edited

After this feast accompanied by excellent local Swedish wine and beer the last ones standing toast with a traditional herb liqueur Sarah kindly brought us from Austria. Then it suddenly it hits me when I go outside to find a big tree… it’s incredibly dark. Kerstin comes with me because I am a wimp. We head back to our yurts, armed with all the oil lamps we can find because I managed to scare the group with my own fears about zombies in the forest. We all have a laugh but secretly hold to that lamp with a passion.
First night in a yurth, in the middle of the woods, with someone we only just met a few hours ago… My yurt-mate Keri and I decided to keep the oil lamp on while we try to sleep… we can’t face the complete darkness just yet.

The next morning my insomniac self awaited dawn eager to cook breakfast on the fires. I looked out of our yurt, the sky is red, beautiful. I decide a simple bun in my hair instead of my intricate hairdos and no make-up are in order, because we don’t have a mirror, and we’re in the middle of a forest, who cares! I do, but still I go with the bun.

…

A Visit to the Peak District

30th July 2014 by Regula 7 Comments

Normally for us a holiday starts early in the morning, after not nearly enough sleep. I will repack my clothes last minute and then we’re off, to start a long long day.

But not this time, we were travelling with P&O’s overnight ferry from Zeebrugge to Hull. We left the house at 4, which left me enough time to change my mind about my chosen wardrobe for our holiday and leave without the usual rush.

Our plan was to travel to the Peak District, a beautiful national park in the North of England. The ferryboat brought us conveniently to an hour away from where we needed to be and gave us ideas for other trips in the future. Last year we stood still fro 6 hours on our way to the West country, then again a six hour delay when we were heading to the Cotswolds and again when we drove back to Dover.

Needless to say, we were so looking for a way to avoid the dreadful M25, M4 and other M’s that get major delays. The Ferry to Hull brings you not only to the gateway of the North and Scotland, it’s great when you need to travel to Wales and even the Midland towns like Birmingham. Anything to avoid the traffic around London sounds like music to my ears.

My partner in crime

Our holiday well and truly started when we boarded the ferry and got us a nice spot on deck to watch the sunset while we were sipping a glass of wine and gazing over the wide and peaceful seascape.

When we retired to our hut we turned into our bunk beds and closed our eyes with the knowledge that we were being brought to England without having to drive, or take trains, in the morning after breakfast, we would just suddenly arrive where we needed to be. It was fantastic for B, who is stuck in traffic every day to get to the office, when you’re on holiday, you really don’t want to spend it driving for yours again.

After a hearty brekkie we left the Ferry and drove into the rainy North of England. We made a two hour stop in Sheffield as it was on the road and we needed a cup of tea and our English magazines. Then we drove on to our final destination, Castleton a quaint little village in the Hope Valley.

Castleton is an old mining village, first for lead an then when a young boy decided to go and search for lead in Treak Cliff hill, a new site in Castleton that he leased, he excavated an entrance for years but discovered not lead, but a vein of blue stone with yellow streaks. The stone was baptised Blue John, probably an interpretation in the local dialect from the French ‘bleu et jaune’. The stone started to be mined and was even used in the first world war as a fuel for furnaces which unfortunately resulted in a lot of precious stone being lost forever.

In the 1940’s a miner found a new vein of Blue John and hid it so only he could find it again, sadly he only got to tell a few people before he passed away suddenly.

Mining still happens in this cavern in january of each year, and the cavern, which you can visit, is still in the hands of the mining family which inherited it decades ago. The ‘lost vein’ as it was called became nothing more than a legend after a few decades but then last year, the current miners at Treak Cliff Cavern discovered it by accident when kicking some mud. The legend told the story of John Royce, the miner who hid the new – now lost – vein with some clay and blankets so when blankets were found underneath the clay, the miners were of course extremely excited by their discovery. There are a few caverns to visit in the village, most are lead mines but if you need to choose only one, I would choose Treak Cliff Cavern as it is the last working Blue John mine and a family business. I bought a huge nodule of the Lost vein because I was so intrigued by the cavern. In the cafe of the cavern you can also have a glass of the water they collect in the cavern, naturally filtered water!

The village of Castleton also has 6 pubs, a restaurant and a couple of cafe’s. For a small village like that it is extraordinary, we were there when there weren’t all that much tourists around but still at night the pubs and the local restaurant were packed. We tried a few places for dinner but we came to the conclusion that the Italian restaurant which was actually more a place serving modern British food and excellent and creative pizza’s, was the very best of the bunch. Produce was fresh, well prepared, and dishes were wholesome and well priced. The drinks on offer are your traditional wine list, which I must say featured a British sparkling wine and a few options of local craft beer. A place where I gladly part with my cash.

Another site to see is Peverel’s castle which is mentioned in the Domesday book in 1086. The ruins overlook Castleton village and after a short walk up the hill, you get a great view over the valley and surrounding hills. Our farmhouse B&B which could be spotted from the hilltop was situated in the most idillic place at the foot of Winnats Pass, a ravine of limestone hills which make you feel very small when you take a stroll trough the towering landscape. We walked there at 7 in the morning, after being woken up by the sun early and heading out quickly after being intrigued by the view from our bedroom window.

Winnats Pass

Derbyshire oatcake with local -devine- bacon, cooked by the farmer

Early mornings, or maybe even evenings are best to experience Winnats Pass, as during the day this National Trust owned estate is clouded by fast moving cars and busses of day-trippers. I also enjoy the quiet morning atmosphere, the chill in the air like the cold breath of nature breathing in your neck.

After our breakfast of traditional Derbishire Oatscakes, bacon and eggs we drove off into the unexpected sunny warm weather to discover another Peak district delight, the Bakewell tart.

Arriving in Bakewell I was a bit disappointed by the busy state of the main road, it made me feel quite nervous and I could not wait to discover a more quaint and quiet part of the village. Behind the corner of the Bakewell pudding shop is a narrow street where no cars were luckily allowed, there we discovered another two bake well pudding and tart shops and we decided to compare tarts. One was sweeter than the other and my personal taste is that less sugar is better and my preference went to Bloomers who’s puddings and tarts were less sweet and didn’t include preservatives. We washed it all down with ehm… beer, and drove further south for ten minutes or so to visit Haddon Hall.

Bakewell and bunting, I do like a town that has a bit of bunting

The Bakewell Pudding

Haddon Hall isn’t just a beautiful fortified Tudor manor house, it is also the film location of one of my favourite movies: Jane Eyre with Charlotte Gainsbourg as Jane and William Hurt as Mr Rochester. The recent version with Michael Fassbender also had some scenes filmed there but the older film I just mentioned, just is the better Charlotte Bronte translation onto silver screen.

Another place to visit if you have a taste for the Bronte sisters and Jane Eyre novels is of course Chatsworth house and Lyme park. Especially Lyme Park which is used for that epic BBC version of Pride and Prejudice from 1995 which has the one and only Mr Darcy: Colin Firth. Lyme Park shows the backdrop of that scene where Mr Darcy jumps into the water and afterwards meets Elisabeth Bennet soaking wet… Do I need to say more?

The scene of Jane Eyre… “Jane, You, you strange – you almost unearthly thing!” Mr Rochester

Haddon Hall, where parts of Jane Eyre were filmed

Hardwick Hall, although situated just outside the Peak District is well worth a visit. Hardwick old hall, a superb ruin which is situated right next to the ‘new’ hall looks like the roof and windows were removed last year and are impressive. The new hall was build by Bess of Hardwick, the second richest woman in England after Queen Elizabeth I and one of the first woman who wanted to applaud strong independent woman. It is a curious looking manor and the ruins of the old hall next to it make it quite an interesting place to have a walk around. When you get peckish, there is the National Trust Tearoom to get a sarnie or a slice of cake. Just off the estate is also a working mill where you can buy excellent flour.

Dovedale, a picturesque valley in south of the Peak District National park is a perfect place for a leisurely walk. We started early morning in a tiny village called Milldale, we had a cup of tea by the River Dove and were mugged by a dozen of ducks who were up to no good trying to steal our slice of lemon drizzle cake. Realising were were outnumbered by the ducks we followed the walking track next to the river Dove and followed it to Dovedale and the iconic ‘stepping stones’ bridge.

Allow plenty of time for this walk, it is really beautiful and you will want to stop for plenty of pictures and breaks. In the little tea and coffee shop in Milldale you can purchase a good map of the area which shows the different walks and how long they take.

On our way back from Dovedale to Castleton we stopped at Buxton, not the prettiest of towns but we did spot a place that sells filled Derbyshire oatcakes and other sarnies for on the go. Our last stop was Tideswell, the village who got some fame after the BBC lottery program, the village used the funds to start a cookery school and the Taste Tideswell scheme where village shops could participate to a foodie cooperative. It was 5 in the evening though, and the village was asleep like all shops have been closed for years instead of an hour or two. Go there before 4 in the afternoon!

Monsal head, nice walk down to the river

Back in Castleton we enjoyed many short evening strolls and our stay there ended with a visit to the tiny village shop, they sell breakfast options on the go, excellent cakes, oatcakes and bread, most of which is baked on site. I had them fill a box for us to take as a picnic and also had the choice between a variety of local cheeses and pork pies. I would be very happy with a store like that on my doorstep.

Our few days in the Peak District ended with the cruise on the P&O ferryboat back to Belgium, we had a good meal, a drink and turned in early after another lovely sunset over the sea.

Getting there
Ferry boat

If you’re coming from the continent, the P&O ferry from Zeebrugge to Hull really is the ideal way to travel to the Peak District, (but also the Lake District, Scotland, Wales and the Midlands if you are planning a long holiday). It’s relaxing and you awake to start your holiday with a freshly rested head.

Flying in

When coming from further afield, the airport of Manchester is the best airport to fly to and regular trains run to Buxton, Hope and Edale and busses get you further to other towns.
Train

Also if you are coming from London or further down, a train will bring you to Mancherster and regular trains run further to Buxton, Hope and Edale

Places to visit

Stately homes and ruins

Haddon Hall – if you love Jane Eyre, this is a must
Lyme Park – Go and see where some of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice was filmed
Chatsworth house
Hardwick Hall and Old Hall
Peveril Castle

Walking and exploring

Treak cliff cavern in Castleton- for the Blue John stone
Several other caverns in Castleton
Castleton has several walks starting in the village
Winnats Pass, go early in the morning.
Mam Tor and Kinder Scout
Dovedale Valley, several walks starting from Dovedale or Milldale or other sites. Pick up one of the handy maps, they are also sold in the Milldale tea shop. Also this link may come in handy
Thorpe Cloud, a very steep hill overlooking Dovedale Valley. We climbed it, it was VERY steep but the view was worth it.
Solomon’s Temple
Monsal head, walk down to the river and walk to the viaduct

Eating
We didn’t want posh restaurants after walking all day so looked for quaint and cosy instead. These are the ones we tried. If you like a special meal, I’ve been recommended The Peacock

Castleton

1530
Italian restaurant which actually in my opinion Modern British

Excellent food for excellent value, we didn’t want a fancy restaurant, just decent food and lovely service which is what you get here. Good veggie options, great imaginative pizza’s and juicy lamb dishes. Excellent local beef as well. They serve ales from a local brewery. Highly recommended.

The Bulls Head

Great local beers, cozy pub and restaurant

Pub food, not excellent, not bad. They do pizza’s too, but use way too much cheese to my liking.

The Castle Inn

Great outside garden for a pint, local beers and ciders.

It is a ‘Vintage Inns’ chain pub and I wish I had known before I ordered food as I have eaten at those Vintage Inns before and it was just as disappointing as on the other occasions. How hard is it to make a decent bowl of soup?
Peveril store
Lovely village shop with local cheeses, oatcakes and home baked breads and cakes.

Bakewell

Bloomers bakery
for Bakewell tarts, puddings and other sweets.
There are other bakeries for Bakewell tarts but I preferred this one and it was recommended by a local.

Milldale

Tiny little takeaway tea and coffee shop, you can’t miss it as the village is super small.

They have home baked cakes, take one with you while walking.I was a guest of P&O Ferries.

Thorpe Cloud – wear suitable footwear, this is steep.

Thank you for commenting!

You might also enjoy
Visit Dartmoor by train

Aachen means christmas to me

25th December 2011 by Regula 3 Comments

A visit to the Christmas market In Aachen, Germany.

Lebkuchen heart, similar to gingerbread

I went on a day trip to Aachen with my parents, just like we always did when I was growing up.

It was one of the highlights of the year for me when I was a child, I clearly remember sitting in the pushing chair covered with one of those big plastic covers feeling cold but enjoying the christmas lights in the dark.

I recall the cold, my frozen feet and my hands being warmed by a little leftover glühwein my parents allowed me to have. When I started to walk, I remember the large people surrounding me, stepping on my new little boots, and the lebküchen heart I was looking forward to picking out.

Aachen means christmas to me. The scent of spices and chocolate from fresh lebküchen and the smell of anise from the artisan candy maker. Not a year went by that we didn’t visit Aachen in the last two weeks before christmas. It just didn’t feel like christmas without it.

My parents always tell me a story of them losing me in a shop and eventually finding me staring at the huge christmas tree in the middle of the store trying to get out one of the balls.

I loved the lights, the cosy feeling of going to the christmas market with my parents and the food.

Oh yes, the food.

When I was five or six I was allowed more sips of the glühwein to keep me warm and had Reibekuchen to warm my hands. I remember my face and hands being all greasy by eating those hashbrown like potato cakes, and sticking my hands in the air so my mother could take the grease away. I was well trained, no way was I going to clean my hands on my new wintercoat!

This year all those memories from my childhood came back to me, my mum and dad indulged me by eating Flammenkuchen for lunch, Lebkuchen whilst walking around Aachen and Reibekuchen after we strolled around the christmas market.

My parents asked me if we needed to go and look for my candied apple and even stopped and offered to buy me a Lebkuchen heart, on days like these I feel that they completely understand my love for food.

Mum and dad smiled all day, even though it was raining all the time. I think they were thinking about our trips to Aachen from the past 20 years too.

When we were leaving the market, I stopped to look at a little girl who was sitting in her pushing chair, protected from the rain by a plastic cover, being fed little pieces of Reibekuchen by her parents. She was sitting cosy but cold enjoying the christmas lights and perhaps she will be allowed a little sip of warming glühwein too.

Reibekuchen, delicious with apple sauce

Reibekuchen are a potato pancake similar to a hash brown. They are also referred to as Rösti, Kartoffelpuffer and in the Jewish kitchen they are called Latkes. Basically you add onion, flour and egg to grated potato and fry it in oil. Traditionally they are eaten with apple sauce or sour cream.

Flammenkuchen originates from Alsace. Farmers used to bake this pizza like tart to test the heat of their wood fired ovens before starting to bake the bread. It is a very thin rolled out dough traditionally in the shape of a rectangle. Toppings consist of sour cream or crème fraiche, speck and thinly sliced onion. The one we had in Aachen was deliciously thin and I’m going to share the recipe as soon as I can.

My mum and dad, sipping glühwein. Bless them.

Bitterschocolade print and Prinzess printen

‘Aachener printen’ are protected by designation of origin and so they can only be found in Aachen. They are a type of lebkuchen. In Dinant, Belgium exists a similar kind of pastry and it is believed that the Aachener printen originate from these 15th century ‘Couque de Dinant’.

The Couque de Dinant are made with engraved copper casts as for the Aachener printen, they are usually plain or decorated with chocolate, nuts and glaze.

The Couque de Dinant are still widely available in the Citadel city of Dinant but the taste is not as herby as the Aachener printen. We usually buy the beautifully decorated Couque de Dinant as a souvenir as the texture is a bit tougher to eat.

I you would like to go to a Chrismas market in Aachen, it starts around the last week of november and ends on christmas eve.

Places to go to

For Aachener printen: Nobis, Charlottenburger Allee 30

For artisan bread: Baeckerei Moss, Kellershaustrasse 60

For Flammenküchen: Pomm’ Pös, Krämerstrasse 7

For Reibeküchen: Chrismas market behind the Räthaus.

Check out another blog post about the Christmas market in Aachen by Urvashi on Bottanical baker here >

What does christmas mean to you?

Please leave a comment. I appreciate every single one.

Fagliolini al Fiasco, beans cooked in a bottle

17th December 2011 by Regula 6 Comments

I’m already dreaming of travelling to Tuscany again…

On our first evening in Tuscany I ate a dish with beans. A friend of our hostess told me that dish was named “Fagliolini al Fiasco” “beans, cooked in a wine bottle”.

He told me this is a dish often sold by bakeries who used the leftover warmth of the bread oven to cook the beans in old Chianty bottles.

The technique was quite simple, the dried beans are dropped in through the narrow neck of the bottle and just barely covered with water, herbs and olive oil.

In the old days, the bottle was sealed with a wad of muslin and set in a corner of the fireplace onto the smoldering ashes. While everyone in the house was asleep, the beans cooked. Imagine waking up to that.

This dish is also one of the classic “pane e companatico” which means “Bread and something to go with the bread”. That something in was very often these beans.

Now being a lover of beans and cooking over an open fire, I had to give this dish a go.

It was a grey morning but as the weather was still mild for the year I was still able to fire up my oven in the garden and keep it warm for a few hours. In the evening we were rewarded by a aromatic bottle of beans and the smell of smoke in our hair. You do need some time, it takes 6 to 8 hours to cook.

What do you need

an empty clear wine bottle like a Chianty bottle (remove the straw)

fresh sage, a small handful

3 cloves of garlic

salt and pepper

a good quality olive oil

dried white beans, fava beans or another small type of bean

wood for your fire (I used old grape vines)

One day before

Soak the beans overnight

On the day

Light your fire with wood, I used a smoker BBQ which is basically a long bullet shaped BBQ with a lid and a thermometer so you can monitor your heat. I hope to build a Tuscan bread oven in my garden next summer but in the meantime this does the trick. I you have a fireplace, this will work to. Just be sure the flames can’t touch the bottle and the bottle isn’t placed in too much heat.

My oven was around 70° Celcius for 5 hours.

Drop the beans into the bottle until it’s filled to 3/4. The beans will expand so you will need that extra space. Add the 3 crushed cloves of garlic, the sage leaves and a bit of black pepper.

Pour in about 3 teaspoons of olive oil and add water so the beans are generously covered in water.

Close the bottle with a wad of muslin or cotton wool so the steam can escape the flask.

You best warm the bottle by putting it in warm water before you put in into the oven or fireplace.

Put the bottle into the oven when the fire is smoldering and leave on the cover for 3 hours.

After 3 hours, the beans in the bottle will look like in the picture.

Leave for another 2 hours.

After those 2 hours, open the bottle and try to get a bean out by using a skewer, have a taste, if the beans are still tough just put the bottle back in the oven for an hour and check again.

Mine were perfect after 6 hours.

We ate the beans in a few ways: just with parmesan and olive oil, with olive oil, croutons from homemade stale bread and parmesan and finally with Italian sausage I brought home with me from Tuscany.

Enjoy

Other posts about Tuscany:

• A trip to the farmersmarket of Monteriggioni and Chestnut cake

• Tuscany in the Autumn: the story of our trip

A fabulous Tuscan foodblog to go to: Juls’ Kitchen

Please leave a comment. I appreciate every single one.

Chestnut cake from Monteriggioni, Tuscany

25th November 2011 by Regula 13 Comments

A beautiful farmers market in the heart of a fortified town.

It was a sunny autumn morning when we left for Monteriggioni, the fog had slipped away and gave way to a yellow and brown colored landscape.

We changed our clocks one hour ahead that night so when we awoke the dew had already dried up and the sun was giving a warm glow.

We drove trough the rolling landscape of Tuscany to reach the hill where the quintessentially fortified town of Monterriggioni lies.

From a distance the town looks like a giant fairytale castle, as we drove towards it my thoughts wandered off to the Middle Ages when Monteriggioni was at the very heart of the conflicts between Florence and Siena. I imagined large battalions of knights approaching the town and peasants going about their business. The knights have all gone now but the farmers remained and were the reason we were driving here today.

Today was a special day in Monteriggioni because in the heart of the fortified town there was a farmers market going on. It was only for one day and there were no certainties for it to happen ever again. The town square was filled with food stalls, producers were proudly presenting their new Organic olive oil and wines were given to taste generously. There were smiling faces everywhere, from the stallholders insisting we’d try their food to the people who were enjoying the scenery and the sun. It was like at this moment, everyone was happy here. There was no music, no dancing but nonetheless this was a feast, a food fest.

The produce at this market was absolutely beautiful, if I could I would have bought something from every stall. But luggage restrictions bound me to making choices, a choice like this is hard to make. What do I leave behind, the glorious organic chestnut flour or the tasty Boar salami… I decided to leave the Fava beans behind and regret that choice every day since. What if I could have fitted an extra bag in my luggage?

Oh well, you can’t have it all and I went home with a beautiful selection of food.

Monteriggioni

Chestnuts roasting

Fill your own cone of tasty chillies

Proudly presenting the new Organic olive oil of 2011

Snail ragout, suprisingly delicious

Wild boar delicacies

Chestnut cake, recipe for my version of this cake below.

Chestnut bread and chickpeas

I baked a cake with the organic chestnut flour I bought at the market.
My friends and I tried to bake this cake in the evening as we tasted chestnut cake at the market that day. The heath of the oven warmed Giulia’s house and filled it with a lovely smell of chestnuts, on this chilly autumn evening.
We loved it so much at the market, I decided I wanted to have another try at reproducing this wonderful cake. After a few tries I came up with this recipe, it’s not at all the cake we tried at the market but I think this one tastes more of chestnuts, which was something I was going for.

Ingredients
200 gr of Chestnut flour
75 gr of corn flour
175 gr good quality butter (unsalted)
1,5 teaspoons of baking powder (check the pack, not all brands of baking powder are gluten free)
4 organic eggs
50 gr of cane sugar
3 teaspoons of Ricotta
1 teaspoon of Cocoa

Method
Preheat your oven to 160° (gas)
Cover a cake tin with baking paper
1. Mix your butter and the sugar, whisk until creamy
2. Add the eggs one by one
3. Add the Ricotta to the butter and egg mixture and stir
4. Add the two types of flour to a bowl and add the baking powder
5. Add the butter, egg and sugar mixture to the flour and mix together.
6. Pour the batter into your baking thin and put in the oven for about 50 minutes.

When you take it out of the oven, leave it to cool in the baking tin.
Dust with Cocoa when the cake is still warm.

You wouldn’t believe how much this cake tastes of roasted chestnuts, just divine!
A good thing about this cake is the low amount of sugar used.
Enjoy!

Next week I’m attempting another dish I discovered in Tuscany: Fagloli al fiasco
Have you missed my previous post about our Tuscan escape? You will find it here

Special thanks to Giulia from Juls’ kitchen

Please leave a comment. I appreciate every single one.

Tuscany in the autumn, a celebration of food.

11th November 2011 by Regula 14 Comments

The view at 7 in the morning…

You know that feeling when something sounds to good to be true?
I had that feeling about Tuscany…
Like so many people, I had fallen in love with the pictures in magazines, travel guides and the tales of good food and wine.
I was very eager to find out if the story’s about Tuscany were wildly exaggerated or true.

After arriving at Pisa airport, I took the train to Florence where I would meet two of my fellow food bloggers Zita from Hungary and Karin from Germany. We were going to explore the city and later drive back to to meet our lovely hostess Giulia, for dinner at Trattoria Bel mi’ Colle in Colle di Val d’Elsa. Florence is grand, we had fantastic coffee at Roberto Cavalli, visited David and strolled around town feasting our eyes on all the pastries. When we left Florence it started to get dark, we saw the sun set over the Ponte Vecchio and drove off to Colle di Val d’Elsa in pitch black.

Panforte, a Tuscan speciality – Carabinieri – Lovers lock at the Ponte Vecchio

The next morning I woke up at 6:30, too early but so eager to finally see Tuscany! I got up, took my camera and opened the blinds on the windows of the house.

The view at 6.30 in the morning.

The view… Perhaps it was the cold and the fog of dawn, but I was breathless for a moment.
I think I must have stood there for half an hour, looking at how the colors of the landscape changed by the minute.
Seeing the sun rise up behind the roof of Giulia’s house and warm the room with the last warmth an autumn sun gives.
I ran outside, still wearing my gingham pyjama and only a big red scarf to warm me. There was so much to see, so much beauty.
The dew on the olives was slowly drying up, the landscape turned from pink to orange and the sun shone on my red hair making my braid look like it was on fire.
I felt all kinds of emotions at ones, running around like a child, trying to capture every moment with my camera.

In the house, the girls started to wake up. The light changed from orange to a bright yellow with a deep blue sky. The day had started, we had a cup of tea and left to have breakfast in a little pasticceria in Siena.

We ate grapes straight from the vines, sat in the sun and tasted a lot of delicious food.

These grapes that were left behind after harvest, were without doubt the best I’ve ever had!

On our roadtrip we went to a medieval little town called San Quirico and to a village known for its thermal waters, Bagno Vignoni. This is where we ate Pici for luch, a traditional thick hand rolled pasta whilst sitting in the warm sun. When we arrived at the Renaissance town Pienza, the sun was already hanging low in the deep blue sky. We tasted pecorino and wild boar sausage in a sweet little shop and walked trough the town when the setting sun started to color the ancient buildings orange.

The evenings are getting quite chilly so when we were walking through the streets of Siena in the evening, we warmed our hands on a bag of roasted chestnuts, not that it was very cold but we just enjoyed the romantic feeling of passing the warming bag of chestnuts to eachother.

Chestnuts warming the hands of lovely Giulia

The height of our trip must have been the farmers market at Montereggioni, a quintessentially medieval castle. We tasted the new Organic Olive oil, had snail ragout for the first time and bought a load of beautiful local produce. I will show you this adventure in my post next week. (see post here)

For lunch we made chickpea crepes, pasta cacio e pepe and for dinner we made fresh pasta tagliolini with truffle. In the evening we went to the Chestnut festival in the old part of Colle val d’Elsa. Everything seems to evolve around chestnuts, wine and olive oil at the moment. Autumn really is the perfect season to visit Tuscany.

Tuscan pastries: left: Castagnaccio, chestnut bread with rosemary. right: Schiacciata con l’uva, flatbread with grapes

At the chestnut festival the whole town waits while the chestnuts are being roasted..

Sadly, the next day our journey came to an end, so after a nice walk through the Tuscan countryside we set sail to our homelands.
These were truly a wonderful four days, thank you Giulia for being such a fantastic hostess and for your warm persona.
I will never forget this, ever.

Olives are harvested by families, who then take the olives to a mill where they press their own Olive oil.

If you would like to see Tuscany through a local girl’s eyes like we did, Giulia arranges Tuscan food & wine tours and Italian cooking classes at her fabulous Juls’ Kitchen.

Fabulous places:
Nannini, Via Banchi di Sopra, 24, Siena. For Panforte.
La taverna del Pecorin, Via Condotti1, Piento. For cheese and delicatessen
Trattoria Bel mi’ Colle, Via Giuseppe Garibaldi 56, Colle di Val d’Elsa. For good local food and wine.
Caffè Giacosa, Via Della Spada, Firenze. For the best coffee and a slice of cake.
Pasticcerie sinatti, Via Fiorentina 99, Siena. Fantastic place for breakfast.
Trattoria La Parata, Piazza del Moretto, Bagno Vignoni. For traditional pici.

To be continued…

Other posts about Tuscany:
• A trip to the farmersmarket of Monteriggioni and Chestnut cake

• Fagliolini al Fiasco

Please leave a comment. I appreciate every single one.

Cornwall – a taste of Kernow and wedding balloons

25th October 2011 by Regula 12 Comments

Cornwall, land of moors and mining, of dramatic cliffs and sandy beaches.
A place where the weather can not be predicted and where nature does it’s own thing.
Described as an area of outstanding natural beauty it is also the poorest county in the UK.
Tourism is the county’s biggest industry but towns struggle in the low season…
For me Cornwall is a foodie destination, a place where you can eat a crab sandwich in a small village cafe that is ten hundred times better then in a highstreet establishment in ‘The big smoke’.
But Cornwall is also an environmental friendly place being nearly entirely self sufficient with the most beautiful produce you can think of. They have red, white, rose, sparkling and fruit wines. Real Cider, Cider Brandy and ale. Cheeses big and tiny, blue and yellow. Fish straight out of the Cornish waters, giving the word Fresh fish a whole other dimension.
So I can’t call Cornwall the poorest county in the UK, they are in financial therms, sadly, but culture- and foodwise they are rich.
That’s why I can’t get enough of Cornwall, and by going there on holiday you help them with the ‘being poor’ side of the story but you can enjoy the wealth trough food and heritage.
Cornwall, land of turquoise waters, tiny pittoresque villages and great produce.
I can not praise it enough, I just adore every rock and pebble of it.

On the last day of our time in Cornwall last summer, my sweetheart Bruno proposed to me on a dramatic cliff at Lands End. The engagement ring was a simple silver band, forged on the rocks of the Cornish cliffs by a pirate and his pirate cat, meters from where he had just asked me.
The pirate also forged our wedding rings, bashing them on the rocks leaving them with an imprint of a very special place to cherish.
This had to be our honeymoon destination without hesitation.
After our little wedding in a Sussex town steeped in history, we drove off to Kernow.
We visited the pirate and his cat and had a truly wonderful time.