Lavender (usually Lavandula angustifolia Mill. or a hybrid such as Lavandula x intermedia) is a beautiful plant on many levels. Firstly, you've got the purple flowers - the shade of which is very rare in nature and there's something instantly enchanting about them. Secondly, you've got the smell. The odour profile of lavender is largely comprised of linalyl acetate [found in bergamot (Citrus bergamia risso (Risso) Wright & Arn.)] and R-(-)-linalool [pronounced "lin-a-low-ol" and also found in the sweet basil (Ocimum basilicum L.) and the bay laurel (Laurus nobilis L.)]. I guess it would make sense then that lavender should marry well with meats that go well with bay leaves, basil and bergamot? I've often thought that Earl Grey tea (which is bergamot-laden) would make a good marinade for lamb, so I guess it's all falling into place now.
"Crab apple" is a collective term for "wild" members of the genus Malus Tourn. ex L., of which the domesticated species (M. domestica Borkh.) is referred to as just "apple". In the UK, the crab apple we usually find growing wild is the European wild apple, M. sylvestris (L.) Mill., the name of which translates as "apple of the forest" and yes, you do normally find it growing in the woods. M. sylvestris L. is a little bit like it's distant relative the quince (Cydonia oblonga Mill.) in that it's virtually inedible when raw but sublime when cooked.
This recipe makes a deep red jelly, but if you want to make it purple so that it seems "more lavendery", you can just add 1 tbsp of blueberries or blackberries or something similar to give it some colour during the initial cooking step.
Crab Apple and Lavender Jelly
1kg crab apples
250g sugar
A small lemon
125mL cider vinegar
Two handfuls of lavender flowers (Yes, I know this isn't precise but that's how much I use!)
Several pretty sprigs of lavender to go in the jars
Knob of butter
Firstly, wash the crab apples very well and chop them into small chunks. Don't core or peel them - just cut them up. Put the apple into a large saucepan and add just enough water to cover. Add the cider vinegar and bring to the boil and simmer for about 20 minutes then add the lavender flowers and continue to simmer for 10 more minutes, at which point the fruit should be soft and squishy. Give the mixture a vicious stir with a wooden spoon and pour into a scalded jelly bag (cf. my pear, geranium and rose jelly recipe for instructions on how to scald a jelly bag) and leave it overnight over a glass bowl. Do not be tempted to squeeze the bag at any point or you'll end up with cloudy slime, not jelly.
The next day, measure your seepage into a jug and, for every 100mL you had, plonk 70g sugar into a Maslin pan then add the liquid. Add the juice, pips and skin from the lemon to the pan and bring the contents to the boil. Keep the mixture on a rolling boil until you reach a set-point (see my other Jams and Curds recipes to find out about this) - this could take up to 40 minutes, so be patient! Stir in the knob of butter and skim off any white scum that isn't destroyed by the butter. This recipe makes about 750mL jelly usually so take an appropriately sized, sterile jar and add the hot jelly to it. Before you seal the lid, plunge a few sprigs of lavender into boiling water for 5 seconds then push them into the hot, liquid jelly then seal the jars. If you try and add the lavender to empty jars then pour the jelly over the top, they will float and look silly, so make sure you add them after the jelly.
4 comments:
Linalyl acetate is one of my favourite summer aromachems (it irritates me to mention that I spent a month earlier this year writing a load of copy for a perfume company that wanted no mention of it in their material, because of people's horrified reactions to unnatural sounding words - personally I'd prefer educating people about what they're smelling rather than patronising them by pretending everything's come straight from plant juice) - it's also found in sage, which has a *fabulous* affinity with lavender. I am now thinking apple, sage and lavender porky thoughts. Really ought to buy a sausage machine.
I spose you could have called it "bergamol" but that's not much better? Said compound is also found in horse mint (Mentha citrata Ehrhart) which I've just found out is also called the bergamot mint which I spose makes sense! You can also try sweet thyme (Thymus vulgaris L.) leaves for more linalyl acetate but I'm not sure if that's the other optical isomer. I need to read up on that.
I'm all for educating properly about tastes and smells - hence my wont of putting in scientific names for plants and discussing flavour compounds here.
Oddly enough, crab apple sits rather marvellously with sage too - I reckon you could easily adulterate this here recipe with some sage leaves and end up with a spectacular accompanyment for pork.
My mincer has a sausage attachment. I've never used it as I've never worked out where to find the skins. I've always wanted to have a go at making sausages as I imagine it being spectacularly messy and very rude-looking!
My grandma's second husband was a (bad) butcher, and I used to help him make sausages in the shop. He had an industrial machine which used to belch a mixture of rusk, minced unmentionables and pink colouring pellets into casings, which I used to help twist and cut. They were unspeakable sausages, and it was always a source of great bewilderment to me that the people of Cleethorpes actually used to queue up to buy them. The whole experience has made me absurdly picky about sausages - fortunately, we have a couple of excellent local butchers who don't use rusk, colouring or fetid bits of pig that have been sitting on the counter, unsold, all week.
Sausage casings, hilariously, are available from http://www.sausage-casings.co.uk/.
hahahaha! That's priceless!!! I'm clearly going to have to do more research into the subject as I'm not sure if I need "salted hanks" or "hard rods", let alone an "ox bung".
"place the rod over the filling horn and slide across"
I really need to grow up at some point, don't I?
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