Miss L J Hall's Archives — Fiona's Favourites

Two weekends ago, being Easter and a long weekend, the market regulars took it upon themselves to do something a wee bit different for the Saturday Market. We couldn’t do a night market like we had, the Friday before Christmas: for many Good Friday remains sacred and the market takes place on church property next to the hall, in the shadow of the church spire.

Church_viewfromSKhouse_2015 — A sunset view of the spire

So, when the notion was flighted, the challenge was two-fold. What could I do that was different, and which didn’t need “instant” cooking? I don’t have the accoutrements for that. It needed to be something that could be eaten for breakfast and/or taken home. Besides, there are other people that do bacon and eggs, and the philosophy of our little market is mostly collegial rather than competitive. It’s too small, and the custom too limited to kill each other with competition.

My approach to an offering is based on both my own leanings towards meat-free and understanding that there are increasing numbers of people who don’t do meat and/or gluten. What could I do that involved eggs (it was going to be Easter, after all) and no meat, preferably eaten with the minimum of cutlery? It couldn’t be quiche or frittata – for the same reason as it couldn’t be bacon and egg…

I experimented with spinach, egg and tomato.

The theory was good: egg on a nest of spinach and onion, baked in the oven to be served with a tomato relish.

The results shared among friends on the social media got mixed reviews. The Husband’s: it was imminently edible but not on the run, let alone cold.

There was a torrent of unrepeatable, hilarious repartee on my personal Facebook page in response to this picture. Instagram followers were much more polite.

The vegetarian option was abandoned. Sometimes I do know when I’m defeated.

I settled for a single offering and one which harks back to my childhood and yet another occasion where I chose a dish based on its name. I don’t recall which birthday it was, but remembering where we lived the time, I must have been around about this age:

Claire_Fi_Nicky_1974 — My sister and I (at the back), 1974, in Bots, Grahamstown

Even then, I used to spend time browsing through Mum’s cookery books and one recipe that appealed to me was Scotch Eggs. It was in this book that now forms an important part of my collection of recipe books.

As luck would have it, Mr J’s mama had presented us with a clutch of little eggs from her fowl family, and my dummy run was a great success.

This time, the response on both Facebook and Instagram was enthusiastic, to say the least.

Decision made, plans were set in place and all that had to be done was the work. A production line was called for. Not difficult at all:

Scotch Eggs

As you see, and as usual, I made the recipe my own by adding chopped fennel and parsley to the meat; I used two variants of a local Worcester Sauce instead of a commercially available one.

Other tips

To ramp up the recipe to make a large quantity (I did 16), I used medium eggs and worked on 105 to 110g of mince per egg. Weighing out the mince helps with managing portion control and also keeps the final product uniform. It was a lot less hassle than I thought it would be. Actually, it made things a lot easier.

For perfect hard-boiled, “peelable” eggs, the first thing to remember is that in this instance, fresh is not best.The Husband, as a former poultry farmer who before he retired, was in large scale free range egg production, really knows his eggs: an egg’s flavour is best developed about three days after it’s laid. A fresh egg is impossible to peel. Because eggs have a really long shelf life and because aesthetically you want a perfect egg, you can comfortably buy your eggs 7 to 10 days before you need them.

To hard-boil a large quantity of eggs that have no blue ring around the yolk, place room temperature eggs into a pot of cold water. Bring to the boil. Boil for 6 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to cool. For a medium egg, boil for 4 minutes. All of this with the caveat that altitude does affect the length of cooking to get the perfect product….

It seems that the eggs, served with a choice of homemade tomato chutney or curried beans*, were a hit: sold out and requests for more.

Also on offer at my Easter table was the pickled fish, a South African tradition.

*Recipe to come in the next while.

I have a love-hate relationship with trade shows and festivals. I have, in my time, been on both sides of the table – stall holder, exhibitor and visitor. I have also organised a number of conferences, so I have a good idea of what goes into the organisation of fairly large events: none of it is very glamorous; it is always hard work. I must be a glutton for punishment, because this weekend was McGregor’s equivalent of a food and wine festival with a few other things thrown in for good measure. We (because my wonderful, long suffering husband goes way above and beyond in support of my crazy notions – even though he doesn’t always agree…) were there. Preparations involved a visit to a town 45 minutes away to get bits and bobs, as well as to the the town in which we usually shop, to order what we needed. Our offering was Boerewors rolls with onion marmalade, butternut and ginger soup as well as chicken liver paté – all home made.

For the uninitiated, Boerewors (literal translation “farmers’ sausage) is a traditional sausage which can be compared with Chorizo or Bratwurst, except that it is usually made with beef. It was first made by the trek boers and is always spiced – the dominant one being dried coriander. Tom, in his time as a rancher, made his own, and every butcher worth his salt has his own recipe and secret ingredients. For this occasion we chose a Kudu (venison) wors.

So, after three days’ preparation, two of which were in the kitchen, peeling and chopping onions and butternut to make three kilograms of onion marmalade, 15 litres of butternut soup and 2,5 kilograms of chicken liver paté , we set off on Saturday morning at what seems, for me, an ungodly hour.

All of that said, there is a whole lot that goes on behind the scenes, that outsiders don’t get to experience. I’ve had tremendous fun at some of the events I’ve participated in, and this weekend was no different. We worked hard, and we played hard. Harder, on both counts than we had planned! Originally, we were not to have worked for two days and had booked for one of the evening functions, which we knew would be an “opskop” (a party with lots of loud music, laughter and dancing)… As we were shutting up shop, we were persuaded to return on Sunday – and we had sufficient stock to be able to do so.

Off we went to our evening “do”, with all sorts of good intentions… Good company, lovely wine and food and, best of all, toe-tapping music and we eventually turned off the light in the wee hours of Sunday morning, knowing we had to be set up and “smoking” by ten o’clock – just a few hours away. And no, I don’t have photographs of the evening, but I do have a picture of the inside of the tent, taken from our stall, before that day really began. I was not nearly as bright eyed and bushy tailed as on Saturday!

Although none of us enjoy days that are too quiet, it does give the stall holders time to talk to each other. Virtually everyone who comes to these festivals, either as participants or visitors, has an appreciation of artisan products, and much is often complementary or we have much in common. Conversations about business, products and how they might work together are invaluable.

Miss L J Hall produces the most wonderful range of Worcester Sauces – made in Worcester, South Africa – one of which we have used for years. She told me that her curried Worcester Sauce is a wonderful accompaniment to butternut soup and promptly gave a complimentary bottle. Understanding that there is always a cost, the least I could do, was give her a chicken liver paté. Actually, much sharing and bartering goes on at festivals – a boerewors roll for wonderful wine from Lord’s, butternut soup for wonderful dried olives from Voor Den Berg, pineapples from Bathurst (not far from the town where I grew up), not to mention being able to buy the most wonderful organic cheeses, also from the Eastern Cape.

And then it’s all over – the good-byes, the see-you-next-times, the travel-safelys. The tent is broken down and soon the grass patch next to the Church looks much as though the festival had never happened.

This is when the locals and the die-hards kick of their shoes and relax. And so it was on Sunday. Two benches were pushed together and we all gathered around the table. What followed was wonderful camaraderie, conversation and gales of laughter that continued well after the stalls had been packed up and the “gates” closed.

Dusk arrived and with it, the cool of early spring, necessitating a move under cover, so the gathering adjourned and moved across the road to the Overdraught Pub at the McGregor Country House ………..

Tag: Miss L J Hall’s

Scotch Easter Eggs in Africa

Scotch Eggs

Other tips

And behind the scenes….after…