After 44 days, strain the liquid off the orange, decant into bottles, and enjoy chilled.
I have always enjoyed making things for Christmas, either to offer guests or maybe as presents, this year I have a number of liqueurs macerating in jars in the downstairs powder room, it’s cool and north facing.
This is one that really intrigued me, I found it on a website http://www.instructables.com and just had to try it.
Vodka an Orange and some expresso coffee beans
It is a traditional European aperitif made using an orange, coffee beans, sugar, and grain alcohol (vodka can also be used if you can’t get grain alcohol)
shake everyday till the sugar is dissolved
Wash your Orange first. Make 44 holes in the orange and poke a coffee bean in each opening. Then put the orange in a jar.(I’m using a jar I picked up in my local charity shop for 50p) Fill the jar with 4 cups of grain alcohol/vodka. Then add your sugar over the top of the alcohol. The original recipe called for 44 sugar cubes but 6 tablespoons of sugar is enough.
22 days to go
You will need to store it for 44 days in a dark, cool place before removing the orange/coffeebeans. Be sure to shake it up every once in awhile to ensure the sugar dissolves. Do remember to make a note of the date you started, or make a note on your calendar of when it will be finished.
After 44 days, strain the liquid off the orange, decant into bottles, and enjoy chilled.
Back to the drawing board then, what does a girl have to do to get some appreciation around here?
finished cushion:front
The two sides were quilted in circles using a CD and a circle cut from card as my quilting guide, and the zip carefully set into one side.the wadding cut back and the lining turned under and slip stitched to the zip fabric, to allow the zip to run. The whole thing then stitched round and turned out through the zip opening. Had the cover turned out to be too big, I would have top stitched around the edge to adjust the size, but it worked out just right.
So I finally finished the cushion, and proudly presented it to the 13 year old to be met with an unimpressed grunt, such is to be expected from a teenager.
The next day I noticed he wasn’t using it, “its scratchy” he tells me… it is so soft to the touch because it’s made from recycled, well washed fabrics!
Finally he asked could it be made smaller, could I “cut a bit off all round” so it will fit on the chair better? I admit I made it to fit the cushion I had, rather than the chair. Back to the drawing board then, what does a girl have to do to get some appreciation around here?
Problem… he will creep into my bedroom and take my lovely feather pillow in crisp white linen, to sit on!
I have recently had a little problem which I hope to have solved, with a little judicious stitchery.
chair and unsullied cushion
The 13 year old is on holiday from school this week, when he isn’t at school or asleep he is generally in his room on his computer playing games either alone or with “virtual friends “ who might be anywhere in the waking world. He sits on a computer chair which he finds less than comfortable so he will creep into my bedroom and take my lovely feather pillow in crisp white linen, to sit on!
As you can imagine, I’m not impressed by having to sleep on a pillow which has been in close proximity to a 13 year old boy’s rarely washed, and flatulent nether regions only minutes before I retire to bed and for probably the preceding 12 hours.
shirt, pajamas, and shorts
My solution is a feather cushion of his very own to sit on. I had one in my stash, but no cover for it.
Looking in my fabric stash, apart from my check shirts which are not negotiable, I have very little which isn’t rather too girly for a boy who does not countenance anything which might blight the tender shoots of his pubescent masculinity.
I found a shirt in cream and blue stripes, one of my early mistakes when buying shirts, it is striped not checked; two pairs of his father’s pajama bottoms, worn out at the seat but still plenty of wear in the legs (what does that tell you about my Dearest?) and a pair of his father’s boxer shorts size small from when he used to smoke 60 a day and had the hips of a racing snake, long time past.
I had seen the disappearing nine patch block but had not yet had the opportunity to use it, given the proportion of fabrics I had ( 3;4;4;1) it seemed a good choice.
disappearing Nine patch
I used the darker check from the boxer shorts for the centre square I’d only need 8 4” squares. The cream shirt and blue checked PJ’s for the sides and corner squares, 32 of each, and the striped pair of PJ’s for the outer border.
Make a nine patch, press it and slice it up again and across the centre in both directions to produce 4 blocks.
4 blocks from a nine patch
I tried two different placements of the resultant squares, so the two sides of the cushion are subtly different. It will need a zip, no doubt it will need washing frequently, and probably an inner cover to help keep the cushion clean. The 13 year old’s room is mainly blue and cream so this will blend in fairly well, by which I mean there is nothing here for him to take offence at, he may accept it without too much persuasion. We won’t need to consider “what people might think”, or any of those other concerns so particular to 13 year old’s.
My Beloved having been prickled and scratched, insisted we went home before we found ourselves benighted.
bright flame coloured rose hips
Following my recent successful forays into hedgerow gathering for wine I have been considering what else might be lurking in the undergrowth which I might make use of. Rose hips kept coming to mind and eye. I have noticed as I drive around the country roads that the wild dog roses which can be found flowering abundantly in the hedgerows in spring are currently sporting bright red and orange hips on almost naked stems, waving at me in the autumn sunshine.
red, orange, carnelian, crimson, so many different shades
Whilst the thought of making them into wine appealed, I have a vivid happy memory of rose hip syrup. When I was a very small girl, back in the far distant 1960’s my mother gave my sister and I a teaspoon of rose hip syrup occasionally, probably through the winter to ward off coughs and sneezes. Perhaps she had happy memories of rose hip syrup herself being a child of the war years when rose hip syrup was made from hedgerow pickings and given free to children, because it is an excellent source of Vitamin C,( 20 times as much as oranges) which would have been a scarce resource in war time when citrus fruits were unavailable and leafy vegetables seasonal.
1 kilo of rose Hips
Then a blog I follow, lovely greens did a blog post on making elderberry syrup, (Hmmmm)… decision made, Rose hip syrup it is! I waited a few days of windy and rainy evenings, till we were blessed with a calm clear day, and went off to my usual gathering spot; a cycle path on the Lune estuary near Glasson Dock. We found rose hips in abundance, but the sun was going down. We only managed to pick half of the amount I needed by the time the sun set at the mouth of the estuary. My Beloved having been prickled and scratched, insisted we went home before we found ourselves benighted. As we walked briskly back to the car, on our right towards the west the sky was lit up in shades of coral and gold by the sun, already set, while on our left the darkening sky was lit by a beautiful full moon rising over a copse of beech trees. I had my camera with me but was being rushed back to the car in case it went so dark we got lost!!!
Rose Hip Syrup
As we drove away from the car park we were passed by my sister and niece, waving enthusiastically they were arriving for a leisurely stroll in the dusk, a moonlit walk, how lovely, Dearest! Do you think we should send out a search party or might they have found their way home?
So thanks for the idea Lovely Greens http://www.lovelygreens.com, and thanks for the recipe Girl interrupted eating http://girlinterruptedeating.wordpress.com
Rosehip Syrup Recipe
400g of rosehips
1 pint of water
100g of sugar
1. Simmer the rosehips in the water for 15 minutes, mash and return to a simmer for a further 15 minutes
2. Strain through muslin to remove the fruit pulp
3. Stir in the sugar and warm over a gentle heat
4. Pour into sterilised jars
In autumn, the trees are laden with purple fruits and roadside stalls appear advertising damsons for sale.
The last week in September I saw damsons for sale in my local Supermarket but at extortionate price, £4.99 a kilo, I ask you? As with my previous hedgerow makes it’s not the right thing simply to buy my ingredients in the sterile environment of a supermarket, I want to know where they were picked, to pick my own if I can. I wanted to make some damson gin for Christmas and perhaps some damson wine too, so I persuaded my Dearest that we needed to take a road trip up to the Lyth Valley over the County boundary in Cumbria. The Lyth Valley
The Lyth Valley has made the Lonely Planet beautiful world list. The Lonely Planet has published a new book to showcase beauty from across the globe,they describe the valley thus: “The unspoilt Lyth Valley is tucked in a hidden corner of Cumbria, where trees are laden with fruit and rolling hills are the most magnificent green.” damsons picked locally
This hidden corner of Cumbria is famed for its damsons. In autumn, the trees are laden with purple fruits and roadside stalls appear advertising damsons for sale. That’s where we were headed; a stall we often pass and which I am always happy to see still trading. Up close it’s just a shack, but the produce on sale is good fresh locally grown goods. local fruit and veg stall
We got the last of her damsons ripe to the point of no return. She advised me to use them up immediately, so I did, a brew of wine and a jar of damsons steeping in gin were put to bed that very evening. It may have cost me more to drive up to the Lyth Valley to buy my damsons but a glorious sunny autumn afternoon in the Lyth Valley is priceless. wonderful bloom
Damsons were originally imported from Damascus for their dye, and given the name ‘damascene’ – later shortened to damson. ( Prunus domestica subsp. insititia, or sometimes Prunus insititia), also archaically called the “damascene”) some say it was introduced by the Crusaders but others claim the Romans brought them, and there were damson stones found in archaeological digs of Roman York. generous harvest
The proprietor, had a wonderful elderberry tree hanging heavily in fruit, she told me many people had asked her what she planned to do with the fruit to which her reply was “absolutely nothing” she said I could help myself… if only I’d known a couple of weeks earlier.
an impossible task, she needed a new bag for College and she knew exactly what she wanted, the problem was it needed to be waterproof and it wasn’t.
The 17 year old set me an impossible task, she needed a new bag for College and she knew exactly what she wanted, the problem was it needed to be waterproof and it wasn’t. Knowing how important it is for her to have things which look right, which have credibility, I undertook to “try” to make it waterproof.
before we begin
First step was to buy some proofing spray in the hope that we could give it a waterproof coating. My Dearest innocently believed he could simply buy the most expensive waterproofing spray from one of those outdoor activity shops, and spray it on, and Presto! It would cast water like a duck’s back. Ha! Great idea… two applications later no sign of it casting water.
The lining; a leopard which will change it’s spots
I’ve always been a greater doubter than him so I already had plan B in my mind. If I could not make the outside waterproof then I needed to create a waterproof barrier between the outer layer and the contents of the bag.
We visited a number of shops to find a fabric with waterproof properties but found none. The internet is so wonderful, found what we wanted, ordered and arrived in a week and cost less than the diesel would have cost to seek what we wanted out of town.
waterproof lining
I wanted the bag to look as close to what had been coveted and purchased at great expense, well great expense to one who has so little to spend. I determined to unpick the lining, use that as a pattern to cut the inner lining, and then line the lining, stitching the whole thing back together, so the inner lining is invisible.
waterproof pocket
I even made a little waterproof pocket for the back pocket which might otherwise soak up water from the outer and would have been the wrong side of the waterproof lining.It is almost exactly as it was before, I defy anyone to see any difference.
I just hope it works, because poor girl has a long a weary commute each day on bus and foot, if we have a wet winter she will have a very soggy wet rucksack and damp contents, her art work will not be improved by water. Let’s all pray for clement weather, cold but DRY.
I’m not sure what it says about him, or me for that matter
So yes he did make me some labels for my lovely luscious wine , I’m not sure what it says about him, or me for that matter,(I did not model for the label that I can assure you) but it’s bottled, and “cellared”. I may give it a try at Christmas, or perhaps I should leave it till after Lent, as I will be abstaining again in Lent next year.
Having developed a yen for hedgerow harvesting; making good things out of my wild gatherings, I have begun another wine brew.
Having developed a yen for hedgerow harvesting; making good things out of my wild gatherings, I have begun another wine brew. A chance conversation with an expert brewer of wine set me off on a mission to brew a perfect red wine. Elderberry, blackberry and something else, a secret other berry, not strictly in season but easily available frozen, in various proportions to give perfume and body and tannins, will it be awful or perfect? It’s nearly ready to bottle now but it won’t be ready to drink till Easter, or maybe I’ll store it till next Christmas.
Picked in my garden, if only there was enough.
The first thing to gather were the elderberries, back to the spot where we picked the flowers in early summer, someone had been there before us so we struggled a little to find them plentiful and ripe, and equally not wanting to strip the trees bare we spent a little longer picking a few here and a few there. Washed and picked from the stems, they were frozen, with the intention that the freezing process would help break down the cell structure of the berries to release juice, colour and tannins.
Beautiful juicy Blackberries
Next were the blackberries, these took two days to pick, we went out to pick and were rained off, being a hardy Northern girl a little rain does not bother me, this was torrential rain, coming down like stair rods, the kind of rain which batters your head, runs through your hair and down your neck; even I admitted defeat.
straining the brewing liquid off the fruit.
The next day was bright and breezy, a perfect picking day, we still got scratched and nettled, but the berries were beautifully ripe and juicy.
The berries were briefly boiled to break down and sterilise, then soaked in a bucket with water overnight before the wine yeast, and nutrient were added and mashed for several days. Then the liquid was strained off the berries, the grape concentrate was added, and put in a demijohn to brew. The liquid fermented vigorously for a week but slowed to a gentle tick, and will be racked off the lees this weekend, cleared and bottled.
Another satisfactory brew
Perhaps my Dearest will make me a label for my bottles if I ask him nicely.
the quilt is made of fabrics contemporary with that time. They are imported Indian cottons hand printed with exotic designs of birds and flowers in reds and greens which would have been incredibly expensive at the time.
clematis
We all as tourists may travel many miles and even cross continents to see the wonders of the world, but are less willing to be impressed by what we can find at home. This summer my Dearest and I, being unable to afford a foreign holiday, or indeed the fuel to take us very far, decided to explore what we had at home, or nearest to it. The plan was to improve our knowledge of what is on our very doorstep which can be enjoyed for free or near as, any time we like.
One day we went to Levens Hall just south of Kendal and probably only 15 miles from our front door. The house is mainly Tudor but dates back to 13th Century in parts, and was extended in the 16th Century. Inside the house is the OLDEST Patchwork Quilt in England dated to 1708. There is no date on the quilt or the bed hangings but the family claim it was made by the lady of the house and her step daughters in that year, the quilt is made of fabrics contemporary with that time. They are imported Indian cottons hand printed with exotic designs of birds and flowers in reds and greens which would have been incredibly expensive at the time.
Fabric like this
I like to think of those wealthy but thrifty ladies making a Patchwork quilt to make best use of the scraps and left over fabric from the elaborate gowns made for them or by themselves in the fashion of the day. The fabrics are cut and pieced simply to show off the pattern, set in plain sashing and quilted quite closely with a simple grid of squares set on point in red thread. Each row of blocks alternates between a snowball block and a simple cross shape, a smaller lozenge shape fits between each cross , working diagonally across the quilt in both directions and each shape is set into a plain background fabric.
The fashion of the day
It was not possible to take my own picture of the quilt or the matching bed hangings which are displayed in a bedroom in low light, so I bought a post card, which gives a fairly detailed view, sadly although I could scan the post card I cannot publish an image of the quilt without permission of the owners.
The quilt is not Levens’ only claim to fame; it also has the most sublime Gardens designed for the house in 1694. The topiary gardens are the oldest surviving and the best in the world. I only wish we had arrived earlier and had time to give the garden its fair share of attention. We have agreed we need to go back another time, but when? Spring perhaps, or in June when the roses are at their best.
Topiary Gardens
The café is open to the public, without having to pay to go into the house and gardens, the shop also is open to the general public so perhaps another day when we are passing, we can stop for a coffee and a browse, some Christmas shopping or whatever.
View from the Cafe terracesecret doorway to the gardens
Another unusual feature is a smokehouse in the farthest corner of the garden, not for the smoking of food, but a place of banishment for those members of the early 17th Century household who had taken up the filthy habit of tobacco!
recently renovated 17th Century smoker’s retreat
There is a walk I’d like to do from the house, into the Park on the other side of the A6, up the old avenue of trees which would have been the original approach to the house, I believe there is a waterfall and a picturesque bridge to be seen. It sounds like a perfect walk for an autumn day, and if we go on a day when the café is open we can plan tea and stickies as a reward at the end of the walk. That sounds like a plan.
Noting that the clouds had rolled back, the sun was shining and the tide was high, we drove north looking for a suitable place for lunch.
22.08.2013
What a lovely day I had today, with nothing planned and a promise of mixed weather, we set off to Morecambe to collect my winnings, not a lump sum, sadly but a novel written by a local author, and offered as a competition prize in my local newspaper. Having collected it and noting that the clouds had rolled back, the sun was shining and the tide was high, we drove north along the promenade looking for a suitable place for lunch. We turned off the coastal road and headed for the shore at Red Bank Farm.
date stone, Red Bank Farm
Red Bank Farm has a very enviable setting being sited at the very point where the sea meets the land, any further west and it would be in the sea. A High bank protects the land from being encroached upon, I guess when the Farm house was built perhaps the sea was not so close, but then the date stone over the door says 1680, so Red Bank farm has weathered many a storm since it was built.
So close to the Sea
My Dearest had a Bacon Buttie, no change there then, and I had a baked potato, butter and salad, being on the Hay diet limits my choices as I don’t eat protein at lunchtime, still I could have just had a bowl of chips, I restrained myself. They did look good though, thick cut and crisp cooked with the skin on.
ancient steps on a right of way
A footpath passes behind the farm house, right on the edge of the beach, ancient steps form a style between the building and the wall which borders the property.
dappled sunshine on a country road
We drove on to Silverdale, a place of outstanding Natural Beauty, visited a little gallery we know and then on to Jack Scout for a walk, the sun was very hot and the day humid, so we did not walk far before my Dearest wanted to turn back. I snatched a couple of pictures near the cliff edge looking up the Kent Estuary towards Arnside.
Jack Scout, Kent estuary
Not wanting to set off home just yet we turned the car northwards up the A6, a route we had taken several times already this week, but stopped at Beetham, it’s one of those villages which is by-passed by the road and so is rarely seen or investigated by passing traffic but I knew there was a Pub the Wheatsheaf, which had been recommended to me for good food, so we stopped to check out the menu.
stocks, now where are those rotten tomatoes?
What a charming little village, with fine old houses, a set of stocks on the green, a good pub, a beautiful church (The Church of St Michael and All Angels, parts of which date from the 12th century) , it still boasts a Post Office and general store, but more than that it has its own theatre! ( The Heron Theatre, a 80 seat theatre housed in the listed 18th century grammar school ) I believe the village has its own amateur theatre group, who put on productions, and it is otherwise used as cinema, “Quartet” is showing this weekend.
St Michael and all Angels
There is apparently The Heron Corn Mill, a working watermill, which we did not investigate. We went home via Morecambe again to walk on the promenade, and enjoy the cool sea breeze. Whilst promenading we saw a BBC news team about to record a piece live for that evening’s news, we didn’t stay to find out what it was to be; given the lateness of the hour, and having left the 13 year old alone all day, we decided it was time to go home and feed him.
The day had been unexpectedly sunny, almost cloudless and very warm, we even got to sit in the garden till it went dark, and then the rain which had been promised but which we thought we had escaped, came down suddenly in great big drops and soaked us as we ran across the garden from the terrace to the back door, if only it would always rain through the night, and allow us clear skies during the day.
