All this rain and sleet reminds me - It's the salad season
Canvassing on bread and dripping, and none of your southern greenery.
I once knew a chap who was frighfully involved in Conservative politics. He had effectively been an Edward Heath SpAd in the days when they were called something else and, as a reward, had made it onto the list of preferred candidates. All you had to do in those days was wait for six or seven years for the next but one General Election, and if you had devoted your life to the cause, hadn’t been at Cambridge and had a wife, you were almost certain to be given a moderate seat. But before then, you had to learn the ropes in unwinnable seats to see if you could doorstep, had some “Granny” appeal and didn’t embarrass anyone.
He asked me to go and help him canvas in his allotted seat, Leigh, which is the next constituency to Makerfield, but sadly, it was one of the 52 weeks of the year when my Lenten vows and commitment to the Prelate of Opus Dei prevented me from travelling North on any quest, however pointless. Thus, I missed a chance to live the life that many had to endure only last week in the rain, except that my memory suggests it was cold on this occasion as well.
One chum did go, and as they had been advised to go around in pairs for safety, he told me of a typical day canvassing for the Tories in the North.
“It was exactly like the opening sequence of Coronation Street”, he said. “It was street upon street of terraced housing, and all of it was grey or shades of grey or wet and grey. There was no colour anywhere. Well, we got to the end of the day, and we had just two more houses to go, and Bob went into the parrot-like repetition of his doorstep speech, which was essentially;
“Good afternoon, Madame. My name is Bob Clanfarthing-Spreadworth, and I’m your local conservative candidate. I wondered if I could count on your support in next week’s by-election, and if you had any questions you’d like to ask me?”
In the main, the answer to this question was, with absolutely no sign of malice, a firm “Fuck Off” and a shut door.
On this occasion, at the penultimate door of an endless stream of samey, terraced, gloomy houses, Bob stood by the step, knocked on the door, which was opened by an elderly Lady, and Bob delivered his speech. “Fuck off,” she said, and he turned, his shoulders bowed, like an old bull who had already danced with the picador and the banderillas, and had been worked by the Cape. Now, he was simply waiting to be dispatched, and on this occasion, the Coup de Grace spelled the end for Bob and all his political aspirations.
“And another thing… “ the old Lady said as Bob took a third fateful step away from the door. “Oh, Madame, and what is that?” Bob asked one last flicker of hope still irrelevantly alive. “You’re fucking rude too,” she said. “Oh?” said Bob.
“You never fuckin said goodbye!” and slammed the door.
Bob never canvassed the last house, and he did improve the vote share, but he never stood again.
We had a barbecue on Saturday to entertain some Norwegian friends who are responsible, senior, and sadly unrecognised figures in the Norwegian Air Force. We stood in the rain and smoked and cooked like proper Brits and were frightfully plucky about the whole thing, and it worked - because we are lucky to have kind and understanding friends who accept my occasional follies de grandeur and eccentricities.
I am not a natural aficionado of salads, so when I make them, I like them to be at least different. Two seemed to work and, interestingly, also held over for a second day of lunching and munching. I recommend them and add a further tip for one of them to later transform.
Daikon and Cucumber Sunomono Salad
Serves 4
Ingredients
1 English cucumber (or 3-4 miniature cucumbers)
1 small to medium daikon radish (approx 10-15 cm) aka MOOLI
1 tsp salt (for drawing out water)
Dressing:
3 tbsp Rice vinegar (plain, unseasoned)
1 tbsp Japanese sweet soy sauce (amakuchi shoyu)
1½ tsp Caster sugar (reduced from the usual 1 tbsp)
Optional: Sprinkle torn Itsu Nori seaweed thins (which is what I used) – or 1 Tbs toasted sesame seeds
Instructions
Prep the vegetables: peel the Daikon - don’t peel the cucumber. If you have a mandolin, slice the cucumber and daikon as thinly as possible.
Draw out excess water by placing the slices in a colander bowl and tossing with plenty of salt. Use your hands to get it amongst the pieces. Let them sit for 20 minutes
Rinse the salt off, then pop the pieces into a clean tea towel or salad spinner to get the water off. They have a huge amount of water, so squeeze the tea towel more than you think. This keeps the salad crunchy.
In a small bowl, whisk together the rice vinegar, sugar, and soy sauce until the sugar is fully dissolved.
Place the drained vegetables into a serving bowl, pour the dressing over them, and toss gently.
Chill: Let the salad marinate in the fridge for at least 30 minutes before serving, then garnish with toasted sesame seeds or seaweed.
If, when you’re out buying the thins and rice vinegar (all at Waitrose, M&S, Waitrose etc), you could also buy some Kikkoman Teriyaki Marinade then…
Marinate 500g of chicken breasts or salmon steaks in 7 tablespoons (about 100ml) of the marinade for roughly 2 hours before cooking, then simply grill them and serve with this and some plain rice… Delish
Orzo, Artichoke and Tomato Salad
SERVES 6–8
INGREDIENTS
350g orzo pasta
2 x (approx) 290g jars of sun-dried tomatoes in oil, drained (reserve the oil) and cut into strips
Chargrilled artichokes about 400 gms - you can buy them in supermarkets as an antipasti dish, or buy them from vegetarian online grocers.
200g pitted Kalamata olives, roughly halved
50g flat leaf parsley, leaves and stems finely chopped
100g pine nuts
240g capers in brine,
drained Maldon sea salt flakes and freshly ground black pepper
Instructions
Cook the pasta according to the packet instructions.
Rinse thoroughly in cold water and leave to drain for 10 minutes. Transfer the drained pasta to a large mixing bowl.
Add 2 tablespoons of the oil drained from the sun-blush tomatoes, then mix well to coat the pasta.
Add the remaining ingredients and mix well.
Add a little more of the oil reserved from the sun-blush tomatoes and season very generously with salt and pepper, then mix once more and serve.
Now, if you find you have some left over, enough, say, for a brace of light suppers, you can chop up an onion, a couple of garlic cloves, and (entirely up to you) some chilli flakes. (Personally, I prefer to chop up a fresh medium heat chilli). Throw the aromatics into a lidded saute pan with some warmed olive oil in it, and soften them up, then add a dozen or so squashed cherry tomatoes (just crush them by hand as you put them into the pan and then turn the heat down and stew them for twenty minutes over a low heat. Then add the leftover orzo salad, stir, lid back on to heat through and in my case - each to their own - I threw in some prawns and a squeeze of lemon. Stir. Season to taste.
It works fine on its own - but you could add a couple of anchovies or even some tinned tuna. Two meals - one recipe. Marvellous with a crust of warmed ciabatta. And perhaps a Green Salad!