Tag Archives: Bristol farmers’ market

Baked apples

I searched my trusty cookery books but in the end only Mrs Beeton’s yielded a recipe for baked apples. I customised it, omitting sugar, and used chopped-up organic dates and prunes plus sultanas and sunflower seeds to stuff the de-cored apples. I dotted butter on top, and placed the stuffed unpeeled apples in an ovenproof dish with a thumbnail of water and baked it for an hour at Gas mark 4 (180 degrees).

They emerged from the oven, fluffed-up apple-flesh bursting from their heat-withered skin. Hmmmm, worthy contenders for a competition, methinks…

My apples were organic, natch, because I didn’t fancy the cocktail of factory-made pesticides sprayed on most apples.

I had bought my big fat organic cooking apples at Bristol Farmers’ Market from the stall of the wondrous Avon Organic Group (below). I say wondrous because it is a voluntary group that helps maintain a local organic orchard and allotments in the city. Where would we be without such dedication?

It’s Apple day on October 21. I keep noticing the little darlings ripening on trees in the stillness of autumn.

If you love baked apples, and you ever come across an apple-corer, do not hesitate. Just buy it. A corer costs a few pounds and will be your lifelong-kitchen friend even if you only use it once a year.

I value mine so much, I photographed it on a velvet cushion (see below).

PS Emboldened by Antonia’s invite (see comments), I hereby enter the humble apples into their second competition at Food Glorious Food, organised in aid of British Food Fortnight.

Two fishmongers

David Felce, fishmonger, at his stall, in profile

A fishmonger is like a hairdresser – a gal is only meant to have one at a time. Bristol Farmers’ market is blessed with two wet fish stalls, each in sight of the other. This makes any pretense of exclusivity hard to maintain.

On Wednesday my mission was to buy the ingredients for a fish soup, including mussels. This meant a visit to both fishmongers.

I went first to David Felce‘s (see above). I bought raw monkfish cheeks (enough for one and a half people) and smoked haddock (two fillets) smoked by the fishmonger himself.

Feeling disloyal to David, I sidled over to the Handpicked Shellfish Company. Outside a gale threatened, so both stalls were huddled in the same area, even closer together than usual. (The above pic was taken the week before when David’s stall was outside, as normal).

I am new to buying shellfish – it is not in my tribal background. In fact the old testament decrees no. Listen, why should that stop me? I bought mussels (1kg) and 100g of (cooked) prawns.

The mussels are well scary. They can cause food poisoning if they not fresh. So, you have to buy fresh ones, alive. Why did I take on this dish (because Nigel Slater inspired me last Sunday)? Read on.

Law of attraction

Spilt olive oil and reminder note to buy more

Valentine evening began on a real food lover note. A salad of organic fresh leaves from Better Food and sprouted radish from Aconbury, with sunflower seeds and vinaigrette. Steaming brown rice mixed with flakes of roasted organic salmon.

Listen, the fish is oak smoked by David Felce in his own kiln. The royal real food lover (my mother) says his smoked organic salmon is the best. It’s a family aspiration to have a good fishmonger. Can a girl have two? Bristol Farmers’ Market fulfills that role twice over – more on my next shopping trip. (Pic of David Felce below).

The Law of Attraction deems positive thinking can manifest wishes. I had duly “visualised” us grooving in a club. But post-dinner, things started to unravel. Winkler unprepared for travel action google-maps for directions, only to find the disco hall in disappointing darkness. Expectations of Valentine-harmony menace to take a dive. The only answer is funky Cheltenham Road on Bristol’s East Side.

11pm. The Valentine diners have dined. Bar one30 has had a tough night – the DJ was chef and the glass washer broke. But nothing dinted their welcome. It was like being at a festival – raw and real. The mixologist created a dream cocktail from my particular predilections: Baileys Irish Cream, Amaretto and honey vodka poured over crushed ice and sprinkled with ground cinnamon. Wow. (Seriously. Wow.) We named it Cocktail Zizi after one of my personalities.

When we left, the manager blew kisses, and the mixologist apologised for the chaos. Mike said, “It is much more interesting being at the edge of Valentine’s Day.”

David Felce, fishmonger, listening to animated customer