Quiche Day

Now the Beaker Flock is in full production, I'm glad to announce today is Quiche Day.

As the Good Book says, "blessed are the quiche-makers", and so Bernie is going to be cooking the Giant Quiche Feast. Since Warrington Farm is finally in full production, we'll be nipping up to the wilds beyond Olney first thing to pick up the sparrow grass to go in it.

Of course, there are those that don't like prawn + asparagus quiche. So for these we are providing their own quiche. Mostly ham and pepper, although some like pepper + ham.

And for those who don't like meat, we're producing an asparagus + pepper. And for those with a gluten allergy a crustless quiche. And for those with an egg allergy, a crust with asparagus. Unless you don't like asparagus.

Those allergic to other people will be able to sit in the Rainbow Room. Although, for obvious reasons, only one at a time.

All quiche is made in a nut-free environment. Ingredients: cannot guarantee nut-free.  We do not use celery products, although we can't guarantee that a freelance celery-lover might not sneak into the kitchen with a pot of celery salt. You know what freelance celery-lovers are like.

No dairy products are used in the Beaker Quiche, except the milk and butter. Oh yeah - and cheese. If you've a dairy allergy and a nut allergy, we recommend you don't go vegeterian. It would be a very dull life.

A Flame Arrives

I'm not quite sure if we'll be prosecuted for mentioning what this has to do with, but a flame has arrived in Great Britain. Because of the economic situation, it's the first time that Greece has asked for a receipt. The torch relay from Olympia is of course a venerable tradition, going all the way back to Nazi Germany. At the time, people wondered why the route was unexpectedly taking in parts of Poland, Czechoslovakia and Belgium. They found out why in due course - but Adolph thankfully never took the hint from the problems they encountered when trying to take the flame to Paris and Moscow at the same time.

On this occasion, in an attempt to evoke summertime visits to Greece back in the days when they had the drachma (and in the hope of summer holidays to come when the drachma returns) the torch itself appears to be designed on the basis of an ice-cream cone.

Or possibly, suggests Young Keith, it's actually a retro-torch, reminding us of the "Horn of Plenty" desserts that were popular in Harvester restaurants in the 1980s? Inspired by this thought, he has created the Don't-Mention-What's-Happening-This-Summer-Cornucopia - carefully branded for legal reasons. It's a foot-long cornet made of brandy-snap, filled with fruit and ice cream and with the top two inches soaked in supermarket own-label whisky. You light the whisky and run round the garden holding the cornet aloft. If you're lucky it's a marvellous evocation of this summer's celebrations, followed by a festive pudding. Whereas if you're unlucky the burning whisky runs down your arm and sets your sleeve on fire.

All Saints' Day Menu

Breakfast: Pumpkin porridge

Elevenses: Left-over sweets and Monster Munch

Lunch: Pumpkin soup with pumpkin-seed bread

Tea: Pumpkin biscuits

Supper: Pumpkin pie with butternet squash

Cake Schism

You turn your back for one minute and what happens?

I went up to Town today for the William Stukeley Approval Society AGM. It doesn't really do much, to be honest. We just sit around, think about William Stukeley and approve. Not about everything he did, of course - we're not into uncritical hero-worship here.

But I came back after an agreeable dinner to find that schism has broken out again. This time, unlikely as it may sound, a row broke out over the desserts were served. Raughrie, normally a competent if unadventurous assistant chef, had really gone for it with a courgette cake. Several Beaker Folk declared that courgette cake was an offence unto the nostrils of the Lord, and demanded "some proper cake". Black cherry cheesecake was apparently mentioned as a food fit for Beaker People. Raughrie, in umbrage, declared that if people weren't with him they were against him - and accused carrot cake fans of being wishy-washy liberals. Some of the more progressive cheesecake people said that blackcurrants were acceptable, while others said that courgette cake may have been produced from the kitchen of the Dark One, but they would defend the rights of the vile degenerates that liked it to eat it. While yet another bunch said that all cake produce was wrong, quoting the verse "blessed be the quiche-makers".

Another group said that they should encourage the consumption of multi-coloured sponges - or to put it another way, some have entertained angel cake.

And others broke away completely, eschewed cake-based products of all kind, and vowed only to eat processed pork products. They're calling themselves United Reformed Ham.

Drayton Parslow wandered in at this point and got into a deep discussion as to whether quiche breached Old Testament food laws, while a courgette-cake-fight broke out between the different sects and the walls ended up smeared with it.  It's amazing how that man's deep interest in all things spiritual make him completely oblivious to what's going on in the "natural" - if you can call people being knee-deep in gateau "natural", that is.

So I've come back to this absolute shambles and of course all these muffin martyrs and croissant crusaders won't be clearing up the mess. Oh no. As usual it will be down to Yours Truly to tell Charlii she's got to do that. And in the morning I guess I'll just have to start banging heads together again. We've a lot of bad blood to shed - if I've not got my metaphors a bit mixed there. Let them eat cake? Not after tonight.

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With thanks for inspiration to @thirstygargoyle @sjcoltrane @wombat37 @rosamundi @sallysjourney and @catherinestead.

On Frugal Lunches

There is a tradition, shared by all well-meaning people (i.e. liberals and Christians) once in a while to eat something simple and give the money you would otherwise have spent to a worthwhile cause.

I remember, in my salad days at Oxford University, the Brown Rice Weeks.  At this long distance I can't remember whether Brown Rice Week was once a year, once a term or - as I seem to remember it - once a week. But the principle was simple. One paid for a standard dinner, and got a bowl of brown rice. The remainder being given to something I can't remember, but it was good.

Grown to later life, I came across the concept of the Frugal Lunch. On a similar scheme - one eats something cheap, and the money goes to a good cause. I'm not clear exactly what Frugals are, but I can confirm that they are normally used to make a kind of green, sludgy soup that you eat dried bread with.

So I've been up in the Archdruidical suite very early this morning, cooking a lot of bacon. I want to make sure that, when the Frugals are doled out, I've already got my fill of the proteins and complex carbohydrates so important to ensure good physical health in these trying modern times.

In many ways the Frugal Lunch sums up the important things about religion for me. Make sure it looks good. Do some good. And feel good yourself.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm just off to fry some more bacon.

Seasonal Food

I've noticed that some people have been eating Hot Cross Buns. Now obviously I'm not one to stamp down hard with the safety boots. But don't you think it's a bit early?
You shouldn't really eat Hot Cross Buns until Ash Wednesday. That way they don't get too boring before you switch to Easter Eggs on Mothering Sunday.

The Hoopoe / Lapwing Debate

I have been having a debate with Young Keith ever since his experiments with hoopoe cookery. On the strength of the King James Version of the Bible,  I made it quite clear to Young Keith that the bird described as not to be eaten in the Good Book is the lapwing, not the hoopoe.

Indeed, we have a lapwing in the grounds of our cottage. (I should tell you that I have had to take down the sign saying "Manse". Eileen, in that "amusing" way of hers, kept telling me it was sexist and writing the letters "Wo-" in front).  Living as we do on the edge of arable land, it is quite quite popular with lapwings. And this particular one seems to have found a particular niche where it can find a rich source of insects. I've become quite fond of it, indeed. 

But after that discussion about cookery, I've become a little worried. Not a lot worried - for that would be a sin - but  a little. I just came home from chapel, to find Young Keith leaning over the fence with a hungry and thoughtful look on his face. And I reckon he's looking at my bird.

Young Keith Cooks... the Hoopoe

... an occasional series in which Young Keith cooks.

The Hoopoe - barmy yet protected

There's been much debate on Twitter about the hoopoe. A bird that is described as "unclean" in the New International Version of the Bible. But not in the King James, which instead refers to the "lapwing".

I've done a bit of research into why the hoopoe might have been regarded as unclean. One possibility is that they are great eaters of insects and pests. Which might make them either slightly poisonous or protected by the Bible because they protect crops. Or maybe God just liked the crest on their heads and their slightly barmy look?

But after some serious study I can tell you, the reason why the hoopoe is not a bird you want to eat. They're rubbish. Too small to roast, too fiddly to fillet and if you deep-fry them like whitebait the bones are all crunchy.

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*Archdruid's note. The Hoopoe is a protected species in some countries, and an unclean animal according to the Bible (except the KJV). Probably best if you don't eat it. Young Keith does these experiments because he is an idiot. So you don't have to.

*image by Luc Viator, from wikipedia commons

What would Jesus Eat?

Sometimes there is something so obvious that you miss it. It is like an ink-smudge on a piece of paper, which - when you focus in the right way - turns out to be a perfect profile likeness of Charles Spurgeon. A miracle, and one that does not involve the Virgin Mary.

But this was like a bolt from the blue. A sudden grasping of the facts, as when you realise that the history and science of the world really are determined by the book of Genesis.

Marjorie and I have been discussing the best way we could lose a few pounds. Not that I would accuse Marjorie of needing to lose a few pounds - that would be tantamount to a suicide. Which I believe, in what I call my state of assurance (although Eileen calls it "a total lack of empathy") to be a sin.

But I have realised that if one is to reach a truly godly shape, one should eat a truly godly diet. And therefore Marjorie and I are adopting the following rules. Essentially, if it is mentioned in the New Testament (under Grace) it is permitted. Otherwise it is an abomination. I am sure we will soon be healthier and holier.

Permitted	Forbidden
Wheat	Tares
Grape Juice (or "wine" in the NT Greek)	Real wine
Lamb	Black Pudding
Bread	Pizza
Grapes	Figs (cursed by The Lord)
Loaves and Fishes	Bread made from stones.

As mentioned in the past, pomegranates are out of the question. They are referred to in the Old but not the New Testament, and are far too exciting when referred to in the Song of Solomon. I'm not sure Marjorie would trust me with a pomegranate.

Pumpkin Pizza

[bleh]

On the menu today

Pumpkin soup.

Today's supper

There really was a nice lot of pumpkin we lit on Sunday. So today, Bernie, ever creative, is serving us a delicious pumpkin pie.

Conundrum

I've been sitting here all evening worrying about this.

My principles of biblical interpretation say that the commandments of the Old Testament, while important as examples, are not for the instruction of the church. Set free from the tyranny of the Law, we live in the light of the New Testament - which is why we can still ban the things we really disagree with.

But I've a problem.  According to Acts Chapter 10, all foods are right to eat.  But Acts 15 says to abstain from blood.

So you tell me - can I eat Black Pudding or can't I?