I apologise. What I actually wanted to call this post was, ‘Afternoon Tea and an Homage to St. John’, however, my oh so droll subconscious had other ideas. So PMT it is, I’m afraid.
Today’s Afternoon (or pm) Tea was something never before seen in our house. (Although by normal standards what we ate would not have been considered terribly unusual at all.) Allow me to explain.
I come from a long line of bakingly inept (on my mother’s side, at least). On the odd occasion that she jokes about this impediment, my mother recounts the story that as a girl, she came home from school one day with a friend, to find that my grandmother had baked a cake. Upon tasting it, my mother’s friend turned to her and said, “Ooh, it’s delicious! It tastes just like Yorkshire pudding!”.
Now, my grandmother could make the best Yorkshire pud in the world, but this must have been one of her last attempts at cake-baking, since I honestly can’t remember eating one at any point during my childhood.
(Actually, that’s not strictly true. My grandmother did bake fruitcakes. The boiled variety. But that’s a story for another day.)
I’m happy to report that the deficient baking buck stops with me. I love to bake. But until I attended Ballymaloe, I’d never attempted a layered sponge cake. They just didn’t appeal to me. Yet since I’ve been taught the art of making them (and since I do love a bit of old school cookery every now and then), today I thought I’d make an event of it.
Our Afternoon Tea consisted of sponge cake layered with poached rhubarb and whipped cream, cups of tea (with saucers, naturally) and rhubarb cordial (made using the reduced poaching liquid). Everyone enjoyed it so much, that they’re lobbying to make it a weekly event. Damn it.
So after all that – hours after – supper needed to be a lightish affair. Soup was called for.
Along with purple sprouting broccoli, wild garlic and rhubarb, I’ve gone a bit nettle crazy over the past few weeks. My nettle beer was more than a pleasant surprise and my risotto was a good one too. I had been meaning to try nettle soup for a while and since my birthday visit to St John Bread and Wine, I’d wanted to try theirs.
It wasn’t bad either. Obviously not as good as the one we ate at St John’s, but pretty good nonetheless. Definitely worth the half a gloved hour spent picking the prickly little devils, but if you should happen to try their recipe, be prepared to get your sieve out and spend just as long making it smooth as smooth can be. Serve with a dollop of wild garlic cream, thick slices of soda bread and a tasty young goat’s cheese.
Wild Garlic Cream (Hardly a recipe, really.)
Double Cream – 150ml
Wild garlic leaves – two large handfuls
Salt – to taste
Pour the cream into pan, tear the wild garlic leaves in half and add to the cream. Season with salt, place a lid on the pan and bring to the boil. Remove from the heat and allow to cool for a while before liquidising/blending the mixture until it’s as smooth as it will go. Allow to cool completely.
When the soup is ready, dollop a tablespoon of wild garlic cream into the centre of the bowl and serve.