Welcome

Following the crowning of my NHS experience with a stint at a PCT and the resulting redundancy (traumatic, though much wanted and worked for), my husband and I are going back to my roots near a small village in Smaland, Sweden. These are our experiences.

Friday, September 21, 2012

Hamming it up in Autumn

Autumn is definitely in full swing and I'm keeping a close eye on the elderberry tree next door. I really must buy the wine making bucket and airlock in the paint shop (??? I don't know why there either, but hey).

With the chill in the air and the heating on, thought turn (natch) to comforting, warm, lovely food. It's great how easy it is here to get ham hocks/jointed gammon and I picked one up the other day on special offer from the local supermarket as I had some orange juice and needed to use it up.
The recipe was honey and marmalade gammon.  When I got home, I realised there was a slight technical hitch in that whilst I had the orange juice, I didn't have honey, marmalade, whole cloves or ginger.  So I had to adapt and the result got the thumbs up from both Graham and the cat (who will turn somersaults for it).  I've tried to make the receipe work internationally..

Red berry Ham

Put your ham into as small a saucepan as can be.  Cover with orange juice and water mix.  Put in an onion studded with cloves (I used an onion and put in some ground cloves). Boil for 2-3 hours depending on the weight of the ham.

Take out and keep the stock for dried pea soup. Discard the skin.

Mix lingon jam (or cranberries or another tart berry depending on what country you're in) with a Dijon style mustard according to taste. (approx 5tbsp jam to 2 tsp mustard, but hey).  Smear all over the ham and bake for about 35-45 minutes.

Eat.

Friday, September 14, 2012

A patch of my own

I was very worried that I would miss the lingon season (aren’t we all!), but, fortunately the doc found out that the not being able to breathe and being extremely tired was due to resurgence in my asthma.  Quite why it’s chosen to come back now is anyone’s guess, but nevertheless ... probably all this clean air. (Anders, it’s your sawmill!! J)  So I decided to celebrate the beginning of my resurgence by trying to find the lingon patches I’d noticed up an old track in the hills to the north.  After cycling up the hill, well, I say cycling, I mean – after cycling on the flat bits and the slight slope, I get off, try and start breathing again, check which pocket the phone is in case I collapse on the right side and need to ring the emergency services, walk the rest of the hill. After that, what I failed to notice previously was that the first lingon patch is over a ditch, which is filled with that moss stuff, which grows in water and is about 6m long. Humm, I didn’t bring my wellies, which is a big mistake in a forest (yet another thing they don’t show in adventure films!). Oh well, try a bit further on and there it was. Behold - A large rock with trees growing on top of it surrounded by a glowing mass of lingon and no ditch!  As rocks tend to have a severe lack of water, I knew I’d be safe with my trainers and so I was.  It was marvellous, piles of the things, I picked 2.5kg in an hour, give or take a few minutes spent breathing.  All the other patches of lingon in the area have been completely picked clean by ravening locals or ravening town dwellers that come out in fine weather, park in sidings and pick berries/mushrooms/anything else that is lying around. So it’s my very own local lingon patch, known only to me and several ruminants. Hurrah.
I suppose I should say that the English for lingon is cowberry. It’s much nicer than cranberry having a richer taste and is slightly tarter. Cranberries are, in fact, lingon lite.