beanfeast

It's the time of year for peas and broad beans.  Alys Fowler tweeted the other day that she likes fava beans best out of all the broads - they are smaller than a modern bean, closer to their 'field bean' ancestors. They're what half the world grows and dries - knowing that our western obsession with eating everything green means there is nothing in the larder for winter.  But of course you can eat them green - the ensuing twitterings made claims for their superior flavour and creaminess…

..and who am I to argue with the lovely Alys?

So Fowler may favour a fava,

but maybe I can out-nerd her on the history beans front?

would like to say that I individually taste tested them 

- but I didn't, just mixed them up and ate them,

and they were good.

how long is a piece of string?

I finally got the chance to have a nettle string making class with our resident Celtic wildman last week. We have a new experimental archaeology project underway at work - Bryn Eryr, a reconstruction of an iron age roundhouse farmstead from Anglesey in North Wales. As well as the main building operation, there is a lot of peripheral activity going on across other departments. The farmers are growing a field of spelt with the intention that the straw will be used to thatch the roof. The blacksmith has been making replica tools to create the wooden objects that will populate the buildings. The Celtic guy is charged with producing 4km of nettle string to make rope for lashing the roof structure - so he is busily teaching the technique to everyone who is willing (and a few who said yes without listening to the question properly).

The operation falls into two stages - harvesting and preparing the fibres, then allowing them to dry and shrink overnight before twisting them up to make string. I have pictures of the first stage - but not enough hands to take process pics of the making phase. Gloves are advised for cutting the nettles and stripping the leaves off, but a good rub with a gloved hand is enough to remove the stings and make them friendly to handle. The stems are then lightly crushed and peeled to get the outer fibres. It reminded me of peeling the stringy bits off celery.

Twisting the fibres together to make string requires a little technique and creative skill. But not in a 'go away I'm writing War and Peace' kind of way - more the 'sitting round the fire having a gossip while creating with your hands' thing. A bit of patience and some acquired muscle memory will have you doing it while hardly even looking, just like your Nana knitting and watching the wrestling at the same time.

There's an excellent tutorial here from the lovely Ray Mears*

With my little pile of nettles I made about 10 metres of 2 ply string, which I then twisted up on itself twice more to make about a metre of 8 ply cord. (That's it in the picture at the top of this post). It's incredibly strong - I was going to try and take a picture to demonstrate its weight bearing capacity but couldn't think how. Suffice to say I could easily restrain someone against their will with it should I decide to kidnap them - don't have nightmares folks!

Not sure I'll be going into the string making business any time soon, (or the kidnapping business for the record). But it's a fantastically satisfying feeling to have the skill to whip up something so useful with your bare (okay gloved) hands.


* (who could canoe me up the fjords any day - Grylls might have the poster boy looks, but Ray would always cook you a much nicer tea).

fish and flowers

Last week we headed off to Cornwall for a four night break in St Mawes, at the tip of the Roseland peninsula. Unlike the dramatic surfy coast of North Cornwall, the south is a land of gentle creeks and estuaries.  The easiest way to get around is to dump the car and hop on the little ferries that putter backwards and forwards across the rivers. At this time of year the footpaths and lanes are bursting with flowers and heady with scent. Pockets of sub-tropical microclimate have drawn gardeners to create their fantasy landscapes. The area is studded with historic big hitters like Trebah, Glendurgan and Trelissick. These succulent beauties were local to us at Lamorran...

..and we travelled up the road to St Austell to visit the modern vision at the Eden Project.

But I am drawn to the the wild volunteers that spring from every hedgebank and crack in the wall.

Babingtons Leek - a garlicky native of the area

Mexican Fleabane - Erigeron karvinskianus

Couldn't resist collecting some seed to soften up the new hard landscaping back at the ranch.

Resisted these - a seaside themed bathroom was rejected by Mr AP

We dressed up for smart cocktails at Hotel Tresanton,

and ate fish and chips by Falmouth Harbour.

Home now and back to work tomorrow.

The forecast says it's going to be hot - and that means horseflies!

I must go dig out the insect repellent...

tea time two

the first homemade herbal tea of the season

with mint from my new herb garden

and lemon balm from the community garden that I helped out a bit

next year there will be home grown fennel seeds

it needs a few elderfowers for sweetness

I have some drying in the shed

it feels good to store the first harvest of the year

sunshine in a cup

xxx

guarding the flame

Having a compelling reason to move to a new place is one thing - settling in and making it your home is quite another. The decision can be made quickly, but there's no rushing the process of growing yourself some new roots. Having moved hemispheres/countries/towns a few times, I reckon two years is a good yardstick for giving it a proper go. In that time you have to guard your little flame - the winds of change will always make you falter and doubt. But slowly new connections will be made, habits formed, special places found. Yesterday we threw open the doors, lit the lanterns* and had a party to celebrate two years in our house - old friends, new friends and neighbours. Moving to this neighbourhood was coming home for me, but Mr AP has lived west of the river for 30+ years. I knew he was taking a leap of faith for me, so I said I wouldn't ask him if he was happy and settled until we'd been here at least two years. 

So yesterday the words were uttered….

..and I think we're staying….

xxx

*I was hunting around for something to put citronella tealights in - can't stand it when they blow out all the time in jam jars. So I bunged them in the steamer baskets for Mr AP's old pressure cooker - worked a treat!

sticks and string

It's time to get supports in for all my tall heritage veggies, (shortness has been bred into modern varieties to make them easier to manage).  These 'Champion of England' peas will easily get to 2 metres - so although these might look like the most optimistic pea sticks in the world, they'll be fully covered in a few weeks. They need to be strong enough to hold the weight of the crop without keeling over at the crucial moment. I kept lots of nice sturdy bits of hazel from the hedge I laid back in January - perfect for the job and I love how they look. Plenty of twiggy bits for the peas to wrap their little tendrils around as they sprint skywards.

On Monday I found myself short of a few sticks to finish the supports for my broad beans. Now I wouldn't normally disappear up the woods on a busy bank holiday (honest boss if you're reading this), but the siren call of an hour's peace among the trees was hard to resist. So I took some loppers and set off to cut some ash poles.

Here they are in situ with cats cradle string.

The beans on the right are a month ahead.

I'm going to learn to make string out of nettles to help build our new Celtic village.

That's exciting (if you're me).

My arms are covered in nettle rash from pulling them out of the hedges.

Might as well make use of the little buggers - too tough to eat now, so string it is...

mostly me

When kids are little they play that game of moving their toys from one place to another. My friend calls it 'You Go There, You Go There'. As we slog on with decorating the house, areas are starting to be finished and the last few house moving boxes are being unpacked. It's mostly books and a few photos - so I get to play 'You go there…' with things I haven't seen for a couple of years. In amongst them was another of my mini collections….

Passport pictures through the ages.

See now you're thinking 'But she said she wasn't a collector…'

Well as someone who has moved hemisphere/country/house on multiple occasions, 

I can tell you that my personal archive of crap treasure would fit into a small valise if it had to.

No inherited furniture, no large musical instruments - 

pointing no fingers, but before we moved house we were a two harmonium/one piano family. 

We're down to one harmonium and a piano now.

I'm not a minimalist, but I crave calm and space more than I need to keep stuff. 

How about you - clutter or space…???