A River Cottage HQ Experience

Oh to be at River Cottage, now that Summer's here,
To see the hens and pigs and veg, and taste Hugh's Stinger Beer.

To see the fruit trees growing, to wander midst the trees
And fields and gardens therewithin, and hear the buzz of bees.

And eat good food that's simply made, from Nature's larder found.
And feel a life that's meant to be, with peace and calm all round.

We met with other diners in the car park at the top of the hill. There is a small barn for shelter during inclement weather, and a brazier that is lit during winter months to keep people warm whilst waiting the ride down to the cottage itself. But we needed neither shelter nor warmth. At seven in the evening it was warm and balmy with the sun barely touching the rolling hills that greeted us. A pleasant young man asked us to sign his dining register and said that transport would be arriving shortly.

A massive trailer attached to a massive tractor duly appeared and we climbed aboard for a higgedly-piggedly ride down a steep track to River Cottage HQ itself. Past a wind turbine, some goats, some chickens, some cows and into the farm yard where we were greeted by another very pleasant young person who led us through the yard to a large teepee-effect tent where a welcoming champagne toast was made and canapes pressed upon us. We were then told we could wander freely around the farm and that dinner would be about 8.

I couldn't decide if River Cottage HQ seemed smaller or larger than it appears on TV. But it was certainly a world of its own. Vegetables growing in conventional beds and unconventional containers, a lovely fruit walk. Flowers interspersed throughout. Many chickens, some ducks. A couple of cows and their calves. We walked to the top of the yard in search of Hugh's pigs. Led by our noses, we found 5 young saddlebacks.

'Hooey, hooey hooey!' I called, because I understood that to be the language of pig. And they came running!! And then they look dis'grunt'led when they realised we had no food for them.

And thoughout our wanderings, River Cottage HQ staff appeared bearing more canapes - beetroot houmous on flatbread, Bloody Mary sardine on toast, mutton meatballs in a dill dip, courgette and goat cheese on toast. Lovely!

Before dinner was served, the chef, Gil, gave us a brief talk through the menu for the evening, filling us in on cooking methods and the provenance of what we were about to eat. A charcuterie plate with beetroot and fresh bread to start, then a fish soup with cheddar cheese -on-toast. This to be followed by wild rabbit with carrots, potatoes and chard, then a blueberry creme brulee with lemon shortbread for pud.

All to be topped off with coffee and chocolate truffles!

It was DELICIOUS!! I had already decided to try everything that was served, my only fear being that eel might make it onto the menu. But I didn't see one plate return to the kitchen uncleaned. The whole meal took three hours, but it didn't seem like it because the seating arrangement (two long tables side by side) meant you were sitting next to people you'd never met before. And people soon got chatting and swapping life experiences.

There was a moment of excitement when a light bulb exploded. Everyone jumped, there was a brief silence and then laughter. And as dusk fell, the fairy lights strung inside and outside the dining barn came into their own and before we knew it it was gone 11 p.m and the tractor and trailer had arrived to start taking diners back to the car park.

This wasn't just a meal out. It was an experience. It was more than I expected it to be. It was fun and relaxing and the best way to spend an evening.

So thank you, River Cottage HQ for delivering your ethos with such style, friendship and aplomb.

And thank you, kissy-kissy, to Andy for arranging such a fabulous anniversary present!

Well, you wood, woodn't you?

Last year I bought Andy a sausage making machine for an anniversary pressie. Not that the 4th year equates to sausages, though. I think it was metal or electrical equipment. Anyway, since he had an unsettling experience with 120 feet of sausage skins made from pig's innards, which then languished in brine in the fridge for slightly longer than I could abide seeing them there, I decided this year to get something that wouldn't clutter up the kitchen sideboard and that didn't involve the slaughter of any innocent creatures. (I am still edging towards vegetarianism but am holding off until we've been to our posh hotel tonight as there will be a scrummy full English breakfast in the offing tomorrow).

So, something to do with wood. That 'woodn't' take up too much room in the house. That 'wood' appeal to Andy's charitable nature. That 'wood' be educational. And interesting. And 'wood' allow me to make many pathetic puns through the course of the day.

So I got him a membership to...

...THE WOODLAND TRUST!!

You see - wood -woodland - trees- paper?? It all dovetails rather nicely!

Andy was thrilled! (Weren't you, darling??)

And quite right too. He got a newly planted tree dedicated to him in a woodland near to where we live. (So I have got him a piece of woodland, albeit in the form of a single adopted tree). He got a woodland guide to woodland he can visit throughout Britain, a car sticker and a subscription to the Woodland Trust magazine which brings you up to date news about wood and trees.

And he got a handy pocket guide to the leaves of native woodland trees. It's even shaped like a leaf! And it fits easily in your pocket. So handy for taking on walks and using to identify mysterious trees.

What more could a man want? (Andy, this is your cue to strike a manly pose and go 'Aaaarrrrrhhhhh.')

And now we are getting ready to go to Dorset. Heather is in charge of chickens and cats. Yesterday I gave her a crash course in how to pick up a chicken.

'You'll need to pick up Mrs Poo to bring her indoors in the evening,' I said, when Heather gave me a look like I'd suggested she pick up dog poop with her bare hands.
'I have to PICK UP A CHICKEN?' she said.
'Don't get hysterical,' I said. 'It's very simple.'

And I gave a demonstration.

'One hand either side, like you are grasping a rugby ball,' I said, gripping Mrs Poo like a rugby ball. 'And then lift her and place her firmly under your arm, making sure you keep her wings tight against her side.'
'What happens if I lose grip on her wings?' said Heather.
'She will sense freedom and flap like loon. And you may suffer feather lacerations to your face which will scar you for life,' I said.
'Oh goody,' said Heather.
'If you like, you can then support her feet with your spare hand,' I said, balancing Mrs Poo's feet on my spare hand. 'It depends how you feel about chicken feet.'
'Right,' said Heather, who looked like she wanted to stay away from the feet of chicken as much as possible.
'And then when you put her down, keep her wings snug against her body, resume the rugby ball hold and release gently,' I finished, putting Mrs Poo on the ground. 'Now you try.'

So Heather repeated the process of picking up Mrs Poo, tucking her under her arm and then putting her down again.

'What the heck are you doing?' said Mrs Poo.
'Practising chicken lifting,' I said.
'Well, can you stop it only I'm feeling nauseous,' said Poo.

'What happens if I can't catch her?' said Heather.
'Well,' I said, 'in a way that would be a good thing because it means she is feeling fully fit again. However, she's not moving very fast at the mo so this is unlikely to be a problem. If it is, then you need to loom over her thus,' and I raised my arms over my head in a looming fashion, 'and she will think you are a cockerel and duck close to the ground in the assumed mating position.'

'Then what?' said Heather, who by now was probably doubting her wisdom in returning home after 3 years of chicken free freedom in Norwich.
'Pat her on the back and grab her,' I said.
'Like a rugby ball?'
'Exactly.'

So, off to River Cottage now. And a posh hotel in Chard.

Well, you 'wood', 'woodn't' you?

Anniversary thoughts

In less than two weeks it shall be mine and Andy's fifth wedding anniversary. We are going to River Cottage for an anniversary treat. I thought, I'd better start looking for a suitable gift for Andy, especially as he has been so nice this year by letting me off work to faff about with writing.

The fifth wedding anniversary is represented by wood, apparently. Well, that's exciting isn't it? A bit of creative thinking is called for, methinks.

Right, what comes to mind when you think of 'wood?'

Trees. Sticks. Garden fences. Tables. Hardly inspirational so far.

'Here darling, I got you a stick for an anniversary present.'
'Thanks, dearest. And I got you a trip to River Cottage for a four-course meal.'

Think out of the box. Wood=trees=leaves=paper=books. Hmmm, potential there. Books always go down well. But a book on what? Something wood related maybe? Carpentry. Would Andy be safe with carpentry equipment? Well, he uses operating equipment at work and it's only once or twice a week he comes home with some surgery related injury. And it's been ages since he stapled himself to a rabbit.

Or a book on whittling. Andy has often mentioned he fancies a whittle. And you need a stick for whittling, so that would tie in nicely with the wood theme.

What about a wooden toy? Andy likes toys. Whatever he tells you he would like for Christmas, what he really means is that he wants toys. I try and get him something juvenile for Christmas but I don't like to encourage any potential regression into childhood.It's bad enough there's all that Doctor Who and Star Wars stuff from the 70's clogging up the attic without adding plastic crap from the 21st century into the equation.

I did toy with the idea of buying Andy a piece of woodland. I was assured (wrongly it turned out) that small pockets of woodland can purchased quite cheaply. Not for under £50 they can't. Unless you go to Bulgaria. Or Croatia. But it would be nice to have a bit of woodland, wouldn't it? Somewhere to encourage wildlife to flourish, to go for walks amongst the bluebells on sunny spring days, to build a little camp fire in winter and sit around it toasting muffins and singing 'Ging-gang-gooley.' One day, maybe. One day...

We have a ginormous piece of wood in the back garden in the form of our eucalyptus tree. Sometimes I stare up at it and think, how tall exactly do eucalyptus trees grow? Do they stop before they reach the moon, for example? We've had it cut back once in the five years we've lived here, and it just shot away into the sky within 6 months. It's an expensive thing, having a tree lopped back, and not something we can afford to have done again at the moment. But it serves as a useful shelter for the South Wing of Cluckinghen Palace. Mrs Poo and Mrs Slocombe are 'neath it as I write, because it is raining, has been raining all night and looks like it will continue to do so for the next week.

And I'm hoping that once a tree reaches a certain height it becomes impervious to force ten gales and thus will not go crashing into Heather's bedroom window during a high storm (especially as Heather is coming home on Thursday and something like a crashing tree might make her jump.)

So I'm still stuck for an original anniversary present idea. I think the person who decided how anniversaries should be represented had a distinct lack of imagination when they thought, 'Five years? Wood. That'll do. People like a nice stick.'

I may have to invent my own anniversary list. Five years?

Nintendo DS!!

The Worst Kept Secret

'There's a new series of River Cottage on the telly this week,' said Andy on Friday as he flicked though the wholly inadequate TV guide that comes with our local newspaper.
'Hurrah!' I said, because as you know we are very keen followers of Hugh F-W. We have learned many things from his programmes and think doing things 'Hugh's Way' is a good way to get started in fending for yourself as much as possible whilst maintaining a good quality of life for yourselves and your crops and livestock. We have many of Hugh's books, too, which are an entertaining and educational read. They also have nice arty pictures and smell of lovely printers ink. We often say, 'We should go to River Cottage one day and do a course/ eat in the restaurant/stalk Hugh.'

'Time to make elder flower cordial and elder flower wine,' said Andy on Saturday afternoon. The week of sun we've had has brought the elder flower into full and extravagant blossom and it seems a pity not to use some of it especially as the last of the nettle beer was quaffed ages ago.
'Good idea, ' I said. 'What does Hugh say about elderflowers?'
'There's even a recipe for elder flower champagne,' said Andy.
'Yes,' I said, 'I remember watching Hugh making it on last year's River Cottage series.'

Later, Andy was still ensconsed on the sofa with a selection of Hugh's books.
'I'm just looking to see what we should be doing in June as it is June on Monday,' he said. 'You know, in terms of wine making and seasonal cooking. I fancy finding out what Hugh says about seasonal puddings.'
'Good idea,' I said, suspecting Hugh might say something about strawberries and rhubarb and lemon possett. There was a Hugh recipe for lemon possett in the Guardian magazine a couple of weeks ago. It was dead easy to make and looked delicious but it also consisted of wild amounts of double cream and sugar and shortbread on the side. So on the instructions of my arteries I consigned the magazine to the recycle bin before I had a reckless moment and made the recipe.

On Sunday afternoon, Andy disappeared into his study, as is his wont. He re-appeared later on trying to conceal an 'I'm-very-pleased-with-myself 'smile.
'You look very pleased with yourself,' I said.
'I've just booked us something very special for our wedding anniversary,' he said.
'Oooh,' I said, placing the River Cottage Bread book on the floor. 'What is it?'
'I'm not telling you,' said Andy. 'It's a SURPRISE!'
'Can I guess?' I asked.
'No,' said Andy, 'because if you guess right I shall have to lie to you in order to maintain the surprise and I don't want to do that.'
'Okay,' I said, 'I shan't guess,' and I moved onto the River Cottage Jams and Preserves book.

There was a bit of a pause.

'All right,' said Andy. 'Have a guess.'
'No, it's all right,' I said. 'I'm happy to be surprised. And I don't want to have to put you in the position of fib telling if I guess right and you don't want me to know that I've guessed right even though you are a very transparent person and I shall know IMMEDIATELY if you are fibbing and shall guess that I guessed right thereby negating the surprise element of the anniversary surprise.'
'Breathe,' said Andy.
'Are we going to River Cottage?' I said.
'YES!!' said Andy.

So we are going to River Cottage for a four course dinner for our wedding anniversary in August and staying in a posh hotel afterwards. Sadly, Hugh does not attend Friday nights at his restaurant, but I reckon if I'm determined I can track him down. I thought I could hide in the kitchen overnight and surprise him on Saturday morning.

It's all VERY exciting!