December is all about feasting and this year I’ve been busier than usual prepping some seasonal treats. As mentioned in the autumn, it has been a Mast year and no one who has been out in the countryside could have failed but notice the really bumper crop of acorns. But it wasn’t just the oak trees that got in on the act, our walnut tree was more bountiful than I can ever remember. How exciting, a first.
Pickled walnuts are a longstanding staple of British traditional fare. There’s a reference to ‘a mutton chop and a pickled walnut’ in Charles Dickens’ Pickwick Papers. The wonderful ‘Food in England’, Dorothy Hartley’s entertaining and authoritative compendium of culinary and social research, published in the ’50s, gives an 18th century recipe for pickling walnuts. So in anticipation I collected a basketful to set about pickling them, only to realise that inside the green fleshy outer shells the little black walnuts – aren’t they supposed to be brown? – had hardened so it was too late to soak them in vinegar and start the process. Oh well, always another year but note to self to pick them much earlier.

Then there was the big family debate about Phil. We’ve had Phil our Brown Sussex cockerel for seven years – that’s apparently not a bad innings for a cockerel, but nothing compared to Muffy, a red quill muffed American game bird who, according to the Guinness World Records, lived to 23 years and 152 days. Wow. But back to Phil.

I’m a bit of a wimp when it comes to eating fungi that haven’t come from a shop. I hate it when husband Adrian comes back with a basket full of specimens he “thinks” are ceps or chanterelles

Last winter he developed quite bad arthritis, a painful condition but one that improved with the warmer spring weather. However, come this autumn, it came back and so the decision was taken – children had to be consulted, even though now significantly older than Muffy – to send him on his way.

But then what to do? It seemed a shame to waste him, so following much deliberation over whether we should or indeed even could eat Phil we decided it was the honourable thing to do, plucked and drew him and he’s now sitting in the freezer waiting for the big occasion.
To follow Dorothy’s recipe for coq-au-vin we’d need a good bottle of Burgundy, some shallots and some mushrooms. And it so happened a friend’s daughter, Poppy, a keen and crucially well-qualified fungi forager agreed to join us on a walk round the farm to identify edible mushrooms. Happy days, as I’m a bit of a wimp when it comes to eating fungi that haven’t come from a shop. I hate it when husband Adrian comes back with a basket full of specimens he “thinks” are ceps or chanterelles. This doesn’t cut it and I’ve told him I won’t be sympathetic if the outcome is unfortunate. But with Poppy’s knowledgeable guidance we found some wonderful specimens in the woods including oyster mushrooms and the unfortunately named but delicious ‘trompette de la mort’. Both of which went into a risotto and more have been dried for the big feast.
Hopefully I shall still be here to greet you in the New Year and, in the meantime, Happy Christmas one and all.