I've spent half the evening looking for a book of old country recipes that I know I used to have.
I saw it just a few weeks ago in one of the kitchen drawers but can I find it now?
I especially wanted to have a look at it because it has an old recipe for raspberry wine that doesn't require yeast.
It involves picking the berries at the end of a very sunny day so that the fruit is loaded with sugar and yeast. I made it years ago and not only was it fantastic, it had similar properties to yogurt in that it just kept on going.
I siphoned off as much as I wanted to bottle, leaving the basic ferment in the bottom of the fermenting jar. I then topped it up carefully with boiled water and a little sugar and off it went again.
It also travelled well even in it's fermenting stage. Although I picked the berries and started the wine off in kirkinch, I lived in Edinburgh at the time and transported the lot back to my flat in Stockbridge where it continued to work it's magic in my airing cupboard.
Of course as my mother discovered with her Hawthorn and Rose petal wines husbands cannot be trusted to leave it alone.
I got up one morning to find my Frank and half a dozen of his cronies flaked out in the sitting room. If it hadn't been for the snoring and the dreadful smell of raspberries I might have imagined some awful suicide pack.
It was clear however that the home brewing lark was potentially lethal and I poured what was left down the sink.
If I'd had any sence I'd have kept it up and and I'd have been a rich widow by now.
4 comments:
It was interesting to notice that more people commented on your politicaly aware G8 blogg. But I'm buggered if I can get the connection between an Presidential aircraft carrier, 10,000 American marines, infringment our British gun laws and pink nail varnish. Of course I only got to page 6 of Marx's 'sweet fragrance' a catalogue for foreign troops and never could get into Trotski's 'Hygene for heroes.' Yours Jock Pratt
American foriegn policy.
Maybe it wasn't mine to buy
but today
I purchased half the sky.
I didn't want no church nor steeple
and certainly didn't want the people
So I came up with a cunning plan
to get the bastards off the land.
I promised that I'd give them pie
to never stand beneath my sky.
Immediately I'll shoot on sight
Those folks,
That cannot get it right
And if they need me to explain
I'll bomb them from my aeroplane.
The concept really is set clear
In all these legal papers here
the documents explains just why
for thirty quid I own the sky.
See ya kids Jock Pratt.
Pratt well f---ing named, a nancy boy if ever I heard one. What is a berry?
Aye there's sumthin sinster there.
Naebudy roon here's ever seen her Frank. Mebee like her mother she never stoaped the brewin at a.
No thit am one fur gossip.
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