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As far as I can remember I've always been quite fond of Scotland, or Scottieland as I always refer to it when there's a slight chance of offending someone. We've had many happy family holidays on the West coast, central heating on full blast, carbon footprint increased significantly trying to track down the only fresh vegetable in the region, midgie spray in full body mode.
My particular favourite juxtaposition is the Scottish Tourist board advert from a few years back featuring a pastoral photo of a beautiful little white cottage in front of a nicely shaped hill, which I happen to know (because I've driven past it several times) is at the top of Glen Coe. However, if you drive past the cottage towards Tyndrum for approximately three miles, there is a large cliff face off to the right on which is written, in letters about 30 feet tall, "F*ck off English".
Aside from that though, there's very little about Scotland that I dislike: Diet Irn Bru, perhaps (talking of juxtapositions); deep fried Mars bars for sure; salt and sauce (on fish and chips). But there's far more positives: motorway signs that give you a quick moral fix; calming accents; specialist shops on every corner; considerate drivers; wonderful scenery; golf - actually, add that to the previous list; whisky!; Ian Rankin; Iain Banks; anyone else whose name is Ian; people who look you in the eye when you pass them in the street; very very good beer; dodgy goalkeepers; Raith Rovers; a sense of national identity. I feel like that Norwegian football commentator from way back:- Winston Churchill, your boys took one hell of a beating...
But the thing which stands out most to me has been brought home by two things: the main news event this week, which is the M.P.'s expenses scandal in Westminster; and Margaret and my tour round the Scottish parliament building last weekend. What a contrast!
I'd always had a fairly bad impression of the Scottish Parliament Building. In fact, in my previous existence I used to use it on my risk management workshop as a bad example of how costs on a project can overrun due to bad management, and I guess that is still true (I can go into a lot of detail at this point if you really want). But what I hadn't appreciated is what a fantastic building it is, and how the sense of place, and time, and purpose merge together so well. To be fair, it's not a building you can stand outside and appreciate. It's just not designed to look good externally, except if you happen to be standing 200 feet up on Salisbury Crags. But once inside, with the enthusiastic guide filling in the detail, you get a strong impression of what the building is all about, and at the same time what Scotland is all about. The contrast between what the parliament is trying to achieve, in terms of democracy, fairness, compromise, communication, and public involvement, could not be more stark when compared to the hypocritical shambles which Westminster is currently exposing itself as being. If you visit Edinburgh, I'd strongly recommend a visit - it's only a fiver.
Meanwhile, yesterday was all about sauces, foams, and veloutés. Foams were quickly dismissed when Lizzie established that none of us were in the slightest bit interested in them, and she personally thought they were "a complete waste of time" anyway. Foams, for your information, are highly flavoured squirty bits that very posh chefs serve out of a canister with their dishes to add flavour, without, presumably, substance.
In a most unlikely turn of events Lizzie persuaded Butcher Graham to make a roasted barley foam. When I enquired later how he had got on he replied "Aye, it was quite tasty, I suppose". Judge from that what you will. I never actually got to see it.
I made a couple of sauces. A Romanesco, which was just bizarre: passata, almonds, garlic, olive oil, chilli, and a few other bits and bobs. Tasted great, but I'm not sure what you'd serve it with. My other offering was Cucumber and Nettle Velouté. This was made up on the spot from whatever was left in the fridge, but, I kid you not, was just lovely. Nettles are optional. If you do use, them, you need the sort that grow alongside the Union Canal out of Edinburgh, along which I cycled for 20 miles last Sunday afternoon. Hervé wore rubber gloves when he handled them, which I think was just a teeny bit over the top. As far as I could tell they had no sting to them, never mind being re-processed at Windscale which seemed to be along his lines of thinking.
A velouté is a sauce made with stock rather than milk, and usually with a bit of alcohol thrown in. In this particular case, there is no roux or alcohol, just a reduction of stock, then cream, and if its not thick enough, sort that out at the end with some cornflour.
CUCUMBER AND NETTLE VELOUTÉAside from that though, there's very little about Scotland that I dislike: Diet Irn Bru, perhaps (talking of juxtapositions); deep fried Mars bars for sure; salt and sauce (on fish and chips). But there's far more positives: motorway signs that give you a quick moral fix; calming accents; specialist shops on every corner; considerate drivers; wonderful scenery; golf - actually, add that to the previous list; whisky!; Ian Rankin; Iain Banks; anyone else whose name is Ian; people who look you in the eye when you pass them in the street; very very good beer; dodgy goalkeepers; Raith Rovers; a sense of national identity. I feel like that Norwegian football commentator from way back:- Winston Churchill, your boys took one hell of a beating...
But the thing which stands out most to me has been brought home by two things: the main news event this week, which is the M.P.'s expenses scandal in Westminster; and Margaret and my tour round the Scottish parliament building last weekend. What a contrast!
I'd always had a fairly bad impression of the Scottish Parliament Building. In fact, in my previous existence I used to use it on my risk management workshop as a bad example of how costs on a project can overrun due to bad management, and I guess that is still true (I can go into a lot of detail at this point if you really want). But what I hadn't appreciated is what a fantastic building it is, and how the sense of place, and time, and purpose merge together so well. To be fair, it's not a building you can stand outside and appreciate. It's just not designed to look good externally, except if you happen to be standing 200 feet up on Salisbury Crags. But once inside, with the enthusiastic guide filling in the detail, you get a strong impression of what the building is all about, and at the same time what Scotland is all about. The contrast between what the parliament is trying to achieve, in terms of democracy, fairness, compromise, communication, and public involvement, could not be more stark when compared to the hypocritical shambles which Westminster is currently exposing itself as being. If you visit Edinburgh, I'd strongly recommend a visit - it's only a fiver.
Meanwhile, yesterday was all about sauces, foams, and veloutés. Foams were quickly dismissed when Lizzie established that none of us were in the slightest bit interested in them, and she personally thought they were "a complete waste of time" anyway. Foams, for your information, are highly flavoured squirty bits that very posh chefs serve out of a canister with their dishes to add flavour, without, presumably, substance.
In a most unlikely turn of events Lizzie persuaded Butcher Graham to make a roasted barley foam. When I enquired later how he had got on he replied "Aye, it was quite tasty, I suppose". Judge from that what you will. I never actually got to see it.
I made a couple of sauces. A Romanesco, which was just bizarre: passata, almonds, garlic, olive oil, chilli, and a few other bits and bobs. Tasted great, but I'm not sure what you'd serve it with. My other offering was Cucumber and Nettle Velouté. This was made up on the spot from whatever was left in the fridge, but, I kid you not, was just lovely. Nettles are optional. If you do use, them, you need the sort that grow alongside the Union Canal out of Edinburgh, along which I cycled for 20 miles last Sunday afternoon. Hervé wore rubber gloves when he handled them, which I think was just a teeny bit over the top. As far as I could tell they had no sting to them, never mind being re-processed at Windscale which seemed to be along his lines of thinking.
A velouté is a sauce made with stock rather than milk, and usually with a bit of alcohol thrown in. In this particular case, there is no roux or alcohol, just a reduction of stock, then cream, and if its not thick enough, sort that out at the end with some cornflour.
Photo below: the velouté served with pan-fried seas bass, on a bed of stir-fried carrots and courgettes
1 cucumber
sliver of ginger, finely chopped
3 spring onions, chopped
handful of nettle leaves, chopped
flat parsley, chopped
fresh oregano, chopped
1/4 green chilli, chopped
1/2 pint chicken stock
1 glass white wine
butter
4 tbl cream
salt and pepper
1. Grate the cucumber coarsely, then press through colander to remove as much water as possible.
2. Gently sweat onions and garlic for 5 minutes in butter. Add cucumber, nettle, parsley, oregano, chilli, and sweat for 5 more minutes. Do not brown!
3. Add wine and stock. Cook down to half volume of liquid.
4. Strain through sieve, put liquid back in pan and add cream.
5. Bring to boil and reduce by half again.
6. If not thickened, mix a little cornflour with cold water and stir through.
The sauce is light and full of flavour; the slight hints of ginger and chilli don't need to be overwhelming.
Serve with pan-fried seabass fillet (or similar), on a bed of stir-fried vegetables (courgette, carrot, spring onion with mustard seeds), as a light starter or with potatoes or rice for a main course.
I bet nobody has ever cooked this sauce before!
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