Allotment Dinners ON TOUR

I believe the usual adage is something akin to ‘WHAT GOES ON TOUR STAYS ON TOUR’. Not in our case. That would be highly frustrating and this post would end here.  So for the purposes of public interest, I will cast that age old instruction aside and divulge every gory detail of our latest adventure in the world of outside dining. 

You may remember a chap called Dave who visited our allotment dinners patch a couple of months ago and generously wrote us a guest post of his experience with us – well this is where the favour is gladly re-payed.  Dave lives in a lovely spot in Ardingly in a house built by his great grandfather’s very own hands using the scraps left over from constructing the beautiful Nymans in Handcross.  I love this story.  I oft romanticise over the notion of building ones own house.  I love that he also built lots of the other houses in the lane and his son, Dave’s Grandfather, built another house just next to his using the skills passed down to him but in a completely different style.  I love I was told this story in a construction Dave had created, to suit his own needs of being outside.  It’s a lovely wooden structure comprised of sturdy stone posts and a roof of  mainly hazel.  Generations of building skill on one parcel of land, each so different but each so wonderful. 

 

We sat happily on benches beneath the snow melting drips of the roof in front of a roaring fire – all welcome comforts after James had told me on route there was nowhere for us to sit and did I have a carrier bag he could borrow so his bum didn’t get wet when sitting on the floor. 

Dave had stoked up the clay oven a fair few hours before our arrival to get the heat up to optimum cooking temperature and had prepared the starter some days earlier I believe.  He’s so Blue Peter, we were already miles apart from mine and James’ usual last minute cobbling together of dinners. 

So, first up: Potted shrimp with lightly toasted ciabatta.  A previously unknown delicacy to my taste buds but what a happy new entrant it was.  This dish is served in small pots, the type you’d serve dry roasted peanuts in for nibbles in the 90’s.  The paprika flavoured shrimp is packed into the bottom of the dish and topped with clarified butter which has set to quite a mean consistency.  Sealing dishes in this way was one of the few methods our pre freezer ancestors had of enabling the preservation of meats and fish for many weeks.  Clarifying – the heating and filtering of butter – removes the proteins which could potentially go rancid and creates a thicker set seal.  Well, there was nothing rancid about this.  It was devoured in moments, much to the disappointment of the two canine guests.   

 

A pause between courses and time then to introduce all of the guests present that evening. Me and James you know, Dave and his lovely girlfriend Alice and two dogs Archie - alice’s mums, and Hattie – my mum’s puppy.  Whenever dogs are present conversation tends to centre round them, how old they are, japes they may get up to, how muddy they are, how they’re not usually this mental.  Not unlike parents with kids I should imagine, just with leads.  James did manage to steer conversation away with a long tale of a known fraudster getting into a right pickle with his company and how he was managing the situation without giving on that he'd read the Daily Mail and knew exactly who she was and no she was not going to get the better of him, so there.  Interesting yarn but after a short silence – ‘so where do you walk him?’   

Next course:  Wildfood Pizza’s.  These home made pizza’s were topped with pigeon, pheasant (some roadkill defrosted from james’ freezer) and bacon alongside the usual suspects, mozzarella and tomato.  Bacon often features alongside these two meats to provide some much needed fat.  They were all lightly fried off together on James’ skillet over the fire and added to the pizzas for a last minute firing.  Absolutely glorious.  To accompany was Hairy Bittercress pesto and a wild rocket salad.  Alice, not a meat eater, joined us with her many cheese pizza and helpfully held my dog whilst I ate.   

Now this is where things got hairy – and I’m not talking about the pesto.  The perils of bringing two dogs together in the night, surrounding them with nice smells and expecting them to behave came very suddenly to light.  One moment we were appreciating a gobful of game, the next a ferocious roar (well, I say ferocious - he’s a jack Russell) and the yelps of the cheeky pup who ordained to go near his eagerly awaited food scraps.  It was horrendous.  A full blown dog attack/mild scuffle (depending on your experience of these events, mine is none so i’m opting for the former) happening right under our feet.  I have never had that happen before and for the entire time I was looking after my mums dog, was the thing I had dreaded happening most.  For Archie, it was completely out of character, it is normally him getting mauled by his long term dog wife Matilda.  I’m still not entirely sure how it ended, I'd leaped up shouting Oh my God, and couldn’t bare to look – not massively helpful.  What I do know is that I got Hattie’s lead back in my hands and after a horrible moment of thinking the mud she was covered in was blood, managed to sit back down and get my shaking hands back on another slice of pizza.  Archie had been unceremoniously removed from the scene, disgraced and no doubt still a bit peckish.  Now this is what I’d call awkward.  When neither of you actually owns either dog, and then one has a go at the other, well there's not much you can say other than profusely apologise and hope no-one sues.  But then that’s dogs isn’t it.  Not really much like kids at all actually. 

By the third and final course my dog had been put in the van and Archie had returned, although still spurned, to witness us scoff down Honey Buns which I had made the night before.  They’re lovely little things and very easy to make. The recipe is Stephen Fry’s and found in the ‘Essential Scout campfire cook book’ tweaked only slightly by me with the addition of cinnamon.  I’d recommend seeking it out, there are many great recipes in there for the outdoor inclined cook. 

The evening, cut slightly shorter than it may have naturally ended due to fears of dog welfare, was overall, a grand evening.  It was such a treat to do ‘our thing’ somewhere else and be so wonderfully welcomed.  And what’s an evening without a spot of drama anyway. 

Thank you to Dave, Alice and Archie (hopefully now allowed back in the house), we’d love to come back please.  Without the dog.