Category Archives: eating well on a budget

Jamie Oliver – good food in 15 minutes?


Ah, I like Jamie Oliver. I have interviewed him, and I do think he is the Real Thing.

So Jamie has won the 2010 TED prize. Of course it is a bit annoying when high-earning celebrities win $100,000 prizes – I can think of equally worthy but cash-starved causes.

On the other hand, the TED prize is prestigious, international and sends a powerful message:  healthy food for children matters.

Jamie says: “Good food can be made in 15 minutes.”

I like the principle but my mind has gone blank.

Thinks: omelette / ciabatta…? (But I don’t like wheat or too many eggs).

I am currently enamoured of casseroles:

Cooked brown rice or pearl barley in a casserole with (tinned/homecooked) haricot beans, sliced raw onions and cut-up-small raw squash. Add fiery seasoning such as chilli, and/or mango chutney (or any other chutney lingering, neglected, at back of fridge) and cook in the oven with lid on, gas mark 5 for 40 minutes.

That’s dead-quick and no last-minute cooking-stress before eating.

But 15 minutes, it ain’t.

What good food would you cook in 15 minutes?

Copenhagen 2009 – green book signing

Book signing last Tuesday. Said a few words, quoting my mate Robin, quoting his mate, Tony Juniper:

Whatever happens at Copenhagen, it’s people’s cultural change that’s crucial.”

Cultural change: such as the way we eat food.

So blessed in Bristol with independent shops and local organic farmers.

We made food bought from Scoopaway, La Ruca, Saxon’s Farm at Bristol Farmers’ Market and Better Food organic supermarket.

The recipes are written by co-writer Patricia Harbottle who came to sign books.

I copied Pat’s choice of recipes from the book, which Pat had cooked for the Dorset launch.

Spicy pumpkin seeds roasted and crunchy in egg white masala.

Pea, leeks and courgette fritatta.

Hey, I now know the secret of making fritatta, thanks to Patricia’s recipe.

You finish cooking omelette and vegetables by placing under the grill.

 (Thank you, Lynne, for loan of fritatta pan that goes on the stove AND under a grill – otherwise leave your frying pan’s plastic handle sticking out away from the heat.).

And we also baked Courgette cake.

For 100 people. I repeat: a hundred.

Patricia was a top London caterer before she retired to Dorset. She helped me “scale up”.

I have decided not to be a caterer when I grow up as I had low-level fear of food poisoning and had to taste everything and not die first.

I am indebted to Ros and Charlotte for patient and relentless weighing, mixing, chopping, stirring and spreading. Not to mention style counsel.

And Chris Johnstone, author of Find Your Power, for inspired dulcimer-playing.

The best bit of the book signing was when people in the audience

spontaneously suggested ways to help Make More of Squash, and Make More of Beans & Peas go far and wide.

As well as giving nutritional info, the Make More of Vegetables series show you how to grow from seed and cook from scratch

– profound ways to create a healthy, vibrant, low-carbon, resource-saving green world

…because it’s no good waiting for our business-as-usual politicians to do so.

Stop press: I checked with Tony Juniper if it was OK to quote him. He replied:

Thanks Elisabeth. Of course I am delighted for you to quote these words. The only thing I might add is to flag up the 10:10 campaign, which seems like a logical reaction to what just happened in Denmark. I was there – it was truly shocking.”

Beetroot soup and a good deed gone wrong

Last night’s cut raw organic beetroot.

Its insides look so mysterious.

I was making beetroot soup (again). Simplifying it.

Cut up two large peeled/scrubbed organic beetroot and place in a large pan with two peeled onions, sliced. Cover with water and bring to the boil, then simmer with a lid for 30 minutes.

I blend with an electric hand blender, my favourite kitchen power tool.

Mine was £20 second-hand, or try Freecycle for a free one, or Just for the love of it for swops.

While blending the beets (bought from Better Food), I travelled back in time:

– to fifteen years ago, and I was trying to be helpful in someone else’s kitchen.

I was in charge of the chocolate mousse.

I poured it into the mixer and pressed the button to mix.

Mayem. Chocolate mousse on every kitchen surface in spattering distance.

I had forgotten to out the lid on the mixer.

So now I practice conscious blending.

Schadenfreude means the pleasure you get from someone’s else’s pain.

I wonder if there is a word to describe the ouch you feel when you end up

causing even more ouch to the very person you are trying to help?

Served with home-grown parsley, plant from St Werburgh’s City Farm, and Yeo Valley organic cheddar shavings.

Beetroot and carrot soup

Beetroot and carrot soup

When I say I am a food writer, people assume I am a gourmet foodie, a superior being who will look down my refined nose at their offerings.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

The reality is I am an everyday, sloppy, how-quickly-can-I-eat-well cook.

My concerns lie not with how food looks, or how unusual or exotic its ingredients are but rather how healthy are they and how they were grown.

I want to demystify cooking not put it on an pedestal.

So this soup could indeed be my ‘signature’ dish. It’s comfort food made with locally and organically-grown vegetables, it took me about half-an-hour to make, is healthy and tasty.

I cut an onion and sweated their slices in olive oil in a medium-size saucepan with a lid on. I washed but did not peel the 2 large beetroots, ditto the 5-6 carrots. I chopped carrots and beetroot in inch-bites because the smaller you cut ’em, the quicker they cook.

I added the chopped veg to the softening onions, and added 3-4 mugfuls of water (one mugful=1/2 pint), and simmered it for 20 minutes, with the lid on.

I did not add salt. Both beetroot and carrot are so sweet, what other taste is needed?

I did add black pepper. And I whizzed it with my £20 handheld electric blender because I am a bit of a baby and like eating mushy-comfort food.

Escoffier, I ain’t.

So have no fear, past and future dinner hosts!

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Coed Hills magic and more hemp

Wind turbine Coed Hills ++

What is it about living outdoors that feels so good?

Last weekend I was camping on a Welsh hill outside Cardiff.

End of September autumn solstice and time for a mini-festival at Coed Hills, the off-the-grid 20-strong arts community.

A fine excuse to live outdoors in a festive atmosphere with 200 other people with similar interests: music, healing, eco-education, meditation and other forms of consciousness-raising and eating delicious healthy mostly organic vegetarian food.

Coed meal after sauna

I went to some great talks including from BBC5.tv, saw The Age of Stupid, and gave two writing workshops myself, sitting in a yurt with talented students.

And followed the art trail in the 100-acre woods.

Indian summer autumn light but unseasonable climate-change warmth.

Being close to nature seems to open my heart. It hurts to take stock of our wasteful world.

But here at Coed Hills, people are living the dream, putting planet-saving sustainable ideas into action.

I loved the compost loos where poo is not flushed away to join our water supply but will go to feed the soil, and the willow reed beds that clean the site’s waste water.

Inspiringly, the site runs on sustainable energy including the wind turbine (see pic above) that presides over us.

Festivals are green networking cities – if not synchroni-cities.

Or just good timing.

Before leaving, I don my hat as hemp ambassadress and present a packet of Amaru Hempower porridge to the Coed community.

Richard, the cook from Lost Horizons, and Coed communard, says I must meet Derek.

Soon – in festival-chaos style – I am sitting next to Derek Bielby, hemp consultant, on a deckchair in front of an open fire between the wooden sauna and a teepee.

Hemp keeps crossing my path, first at Shambala and then at The Organic Food Festival.

Incredibly nutritious, hemp is also perfectly suited to the UK climate.

Fast-growing , it is ready for harvest after 100-days of growth – and good for the land.

Hemp is super-sustainable – growing hemp for paper gives four times the yield than trees, Derek told me.

It also has many uses including for eco-building, paper and textiles.

As Derek showed me:

The many uses of hemp

1. In the plastic bag on the left: the woody chips, or hurd.

2.The thing that looks like a round goat’s cheese? That, and the fibrous block it sits on, is hempcrete.

Forget the C02 criminal of the building world – use hempcrete instead.

3. Above are squares of hemp felt, a natural fibre. No more toxic fibres when you insulate a roof.

4. Next to the hemp felt, a ‘log’ of hemp waste for burning – this could be used to power the on-farm hemp-processing machine, or primary processor. Talk about sustainable.

5. ‘Woodchip’ made from hemp with a garden pot made of hemp. Plus boards of resin, also made from hemp. And swatches of hemp fabric.

I did not want to leave the magical world of Coed (pronounced coid, Welsh for wood ) where you live outdoors, treading the ground unmediated by cement,  and lit at night by fires and candlelight.

But I did.

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Hemp porridge and membrillo

Amaru hemp porridge with membrillo

Above pic represents synchronicity and sustainability  – and a comforting, tasty and easy-peasy way to get top nutrition. Just add water…

I also dolloped on membrillo – recipe below. It’s nice with something a bit sweet such as sultanas.

Synchronicity: I went to Shambala and got so turned on by hemp porridge, it became the subject of my last post.

Two weeks later, I am at The Organic Food Festival – the after-festival party to be precise at Berwick Lodge, Christopher Wicks’ new fab place – when I find myself talking to what turns out to be:

Rebekah Shaman, founder and director of Amaru Hemp.

Oooooh, I like Rebekah. Right from the start, she plunges me into different worlds with her words for instance about her time as The Shaman’s Last Apprentice in the Amazon.

She also gives me the lowdown on the nutritional powers of hemp:

  • 19% protein (meat is 30%)
  • easily absorbed globular protein (must find out what globular means)
  • every known omega, with omega 3 and 6 ideally balanced
  • every known amino acid
  • every known essential fatty acid.

One conversation leads to another and soon we realise we were linked in a myriad of different ways, culturally, socially etc.

I am taking this seriously (in an excited way): Amaru organic Hempower and me may have some work to do together in the future. Watch this space.

As for The Organic Food Festival 2009 – wow. Hot brilliant sunshine, old friends, new friends, people trading in a wholesome, future-proof, sustainable ventures – no wonder the atmosphere was elated and connections were buzzing.

I was on The Source stall with my darling editor, Dr Rachel Fleming. We shared it with the renewable energy specialists, Kaieteur, and organic soap makers, Flo and Us, both from Sidmouth.

Also sharing our marquee was James Bond (yes, that is his name) of the Avon Organic Group – his organic damsons were a talking/ tasting point for the crowds.

James Bond, Avon Organic Group at The Source stall

James gave me some beautiful quince, and this week I made membrillo for the first time, with a recipe from the Avon Organic Group. Here it is (+ my comments).

1. Quarter quince, leaving core, skin, pips intact. Add just enough water for quince to float. Simmer 1 hour or more, or until it reduces to a smooth pulp.

2. Sieve to remove pips and skin.

I am afraid I got fed up of unsatisfactory sieving (and it was midnight when I started). So I blended the whole lot, skin, pips and all. As a result it did not have that pale pink translucency of traditional membrillo – but it packed more of a nutritional punch and tasted richer and denser. (And was less fiddly).

Making membrillo 1

3. Add sugar to equal weight of sieved pulp, or at least 3/4 of weight.

Not being a sugar-freak, I used 1lb 6oz rapadura sugar to 1lb 12oz of fruit. Apologies for imperial measures – this often happens when I cook.

4. Simmer for 1-2 hours or until it has reduced to a thick pulp and darkened considerably. Stir to avoid sticking.

I stirred non-stop for 1 hour, getting spattered with boiling jam when I stopped. Wear an apron!

Making membrillo 2

5. Pour into greased or non-stick baking pan to a depth of 1-1.5 inches.

6. Bake in a low oven (140c) for about 1 hour.

7. It should set to a firm paste. Cool and cut into bite-sized squares.

Mine set to a kind of thick jam.

And it goes really well with hemp porridge.

Stop press: Amaru co-director Carlo Dawson agrees to take Brixton Transition Town pound.

HemPower pic 448 X 336

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Hemp porridge knowledge

Hemp porridge and The Source (small)

I went to Shambala festival and got turned on by hemp. Every morning I would emerge from my tent to tramp across a field for hemp porridge breakfast.

Its creator, Eddie Callen, told me how he makes it: mixes it 50/50 with oats, by grinding 1/4 of the oats with all the hemp seeds, from Yorkshire Hemp. Once emulsified with the seed oil, the rest of the oats grind-in easily. Then water, hot or cold, to make the porridge, and a host of sprinkles: nuts, goji berries, agave syrup, cranberries, for taste and nutrition.

(I used pecan nuts and sultanas for my hemp breakfast back-home, see pic above).

A fount of hemp-knowledge, Eddie told me how hemp can grow abundantly in the UK without pesticides and fertilisers.

Hemp plants are so productive too: omega 3-rich seeds, and textiles, rope and paper. More sustainable than paper from trees – and cheaper.

We want hemp! ‘Tis the the earth’s most sustainable material.

Although hemp belongs to the same plant family as cannabis it has NONE of its mind-altering properties. It got a bad rap all the same and got outlawed in the 1930s but now it’s legal to grow although most UK hemp ends up as animal bedding.

Hemp-evangelist Eddie Callen was cheffing for the Community Medical Herbalists.

I had gone to see one, John E. Smith, for some remedies and it was he had told me about Eddie’s hemp-prowess.

Festivals are like that – it’s green networking city. I bumped into colleagues, past and present, as well as the legendary Simon Fairlie, editor of The Land. Its summer issue focuses on the  enclosures of Britain’s commons – historical events I have long been fascinated by as I see the roots of our present-day ills in the past.

People’s right to grow food or forage was taken away by force or legal stealth from approx from 1300s to end-18th century. Just as indigeneous people are deprived of their land today.

O I am in the mood for digression. Last night I saw Winstanley, an amazing film. Set in 1647, shot in black and white, British weather featured strongly, with only a camp fire and thatched tents to protect the Diggers from the incessant dripping rain. (As a recent camper, I identified).

Gerrard Winstanley wrote: the earth was “a Common Treasury for all”. He tried to reclaim the top of a hill in Surrey with his fellow Diggers but was beaten by the establishment.

I read about Gerrard (am on first name-terms as he is new hero) in the Land and talking about magazines, note my pic above and the latest issue of The Source.

I am SO proud to be writing for The Source, the southwest’s great green magazine.

In this issue, The Source reviews the new Transition book, Local Food, and asks:

What will we eat when the oil runs out?

The answer is green, local, organic, healthy food…and hey – this means the freshest tastes too. Talk about win-win-win-win solutions.

The Source also carries the programme for The Organic Food Festival, taking place THIS weekend in Bristol.

Organic is farming for a green future.

I am with the Shambala witches on this one.

Da witches have no Plan B (2)

Kitchen fairy at Lost Horizons

backstage at Lost Horizons with yogurt

I went to Buddhafield festival and became a kitchen fairy.

I was sitting in a Bedouin tent, as one does, listening to Martha Tilston on stage at Lost Horizons, the legendary travelling café and wood-burning (mostly naked) sauna.

I heard a cry above the music:

“Can someone stir the milk? In exchange for a chai.

Can someone stir the milk?”

“I can stir the milk,” I said.

In the field kitchen, backstage at Lost Horizons, a wooden spoon in hand, I stirred a cauldron of milk coming to the boil.

A dramatic creature with blonde curls, tight trousers and a rocker’s face appeared.

“Turn it off when it comes to the boil. Do you know when it’s cool enough to add the yogurt?” he asked.

“You say Hare krishna hare krishna krishna krishna hare hare hare rama hare rama rama rama hare hare,” he said at such speed and with such authentic inflections that I did not recognise it.

He turned out to be the legendary and talented artiste, Prana, from the Bindoo Babas.

But I got the gist, and the yogurt got made ready to set

albeit with Nyam myo renge kyo a chant I do remember.

I also did loads of washing up.

The combination of working outdoors as the rain bounced off the canvas and being part of a crew gave me unusual washing-up energy.

My reward was a bowl of spicy hearty aduki bean soup with mostly organic ingredients cooked by Richard, the chef.

Richard, Lost Horizons kitchen chef

“Aduki and mung beans are the only ones that don’t need soaking,” he said.

I noticed a chalkboard sign calling for kitchen fairies.

I arranged to come back the next day.

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Harvest supper with Grofun

Grofun - 12.7.09

Sunday 6pm. Everything in the picture was grown on our community allotment: the beetroot, turned into slivered (use a potato peeler) salad, and the spiced Mumbai potatoes, both decorated with courgette flowers, and the green beans in their bag – all on the table in the evening sun, waiting to be eaten.

We have GROFUN, Growing Real Organic Food in Urban Neighbourhoods, to thank for this miracle.

Nadia Hillman, GROFUN’s 33 year-old Bristol-based founder, was on BBC’s Gardening World at Easter helping Birmingham set up a similar scheme.

Is your garden overgrown? Would you like help getting it fit to grow organic vegetables?

GROFUN volunteers pitch in and in return for their impressive labour they get reciprocal gardening-help either in their own garden or at the community allotment in St Werburgh’s, Bristol.

We are learning how to grow. And everyone involved gets invited to the harvest meals.

“The best thing for me is the connecting of people” says Nadia.

We sat around the fire into the evening. Mel played a haunting song on the guitar.

It sounds a moment of peace. And it was.

My mother’s tongue

My mother' tongue

My mother heaved the 2-pound tongue onto the serving dish and I offered to skin it.

I eat mainly vegetarian food but I skinned that tongue like a pro, feeling elemental and respectful like a hunter.

My mother foraged for it in Waitrose. The label bore two marks: UK and EU.

My mother went to the customer service desk to check its provenance.

“Cured in Bedford,” said the assistant, “so it must be British.”

“But where did the animal come from?” said my mother.

He checked with the buyer who sent word the animal was UK-bred.

“So why the EU label? It’s still a mystery,” said Ingrid Rose when my mother told us the story as we ate.

My mother said she used to pickle tongue with saltpetre. Now it’s hard to find.

Pickling salt beef and tongue are traditional ways to preserve meat. No refrigeration in the shtetl.

My mother’s tongue – a childhood memory.

My mother talked about the cooking of the 2lb tongue (for £8, 8 servings).

She disagreed with the label’s instructions: to throw away the water after bringing the tongue to the boil seemed a terrible waste, she said.

She and Evelyn Rose are of one mind: wash the tongue well in cold water – there is no need for waste.

Cooking salted/pickled/cured tongue: water to cover + garlic + 1 onion skinned and cut in half + peppercorns + bay leaves. Simmer and cover for 2 hours and 30 minutes. Then drain and skin.

The potato pie: mashed potatoes + 1 tablespoon of goose fat (“My mother used chicken fat,” says my mother) + 2 eggs + salt and pepper plus my mother’s latest addition: chives.

Back to the meat.

What do you want to preserve?

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