Steady rain in Brighton today and I went out for a walk in it for an hour or so, by way of working up an appetite for my traditional Guernsey Bean Jar. It's a great winter warmer, but takes more than six hours to cook. So its aromatic fingers were drifting about my place all day, making me feel hungry and nostalgic for Guernsey. My bean jar (a deep sort of casserole dish from which the meal gets its name) was brought from Moulin Huet pottery in Guernsey, i.e. just down the road from the family home.
It is a rustic sort of meal. My grandfather said that the bean jars used to be taken to the baker on Saturday night, cooked overnight in the cooling baker's ovens and retrieved, wrapped up in brown paper, by older children on Sunday morning to be eaten for breakfast.
To cook a Peter Kenny bean jar you need dried haricot and butter beans soaked overnight and boiled for an hour, beef or lamb (traditionally on the bone), lots of fresh parsley and a wee bit of fresh sage, a clove or two of garlic and a very large chopped onion. Occasionally, if the mood takes you, a bit of carrot too. Essentially you put all these ingredients in your bean jar and slow cook for a minimum of six hours on a low heat. Serve it in a bowl with chunks of brown bread and loads of white pepper.
Otherwise gradually coming down from my stress fest.
Coversations with the French Bloke and Matty Boy today. Alarmingly, the FB has had a bit of a heart scare, so is having lots of tests next week for them to work out what sort of treatment he needs. Matty was with him when I called, and we three will get together this week at the FB's place.
Meanwhile Matty and Taranjit seem to be enjoying each other's company these days, which is excellent.
Mum had been out for a three hour cross country walk with her new chum yesterday. Perhaps I can subsitute her for me to go with Anton on our South Downs walk, and meet them in the pub later.
Spoke to MJ who was clearing the last of the stuff from Kings Park, trying to decide if things were bags of toys or bags of rubbish.
Here is another photo I took early yesterday morning, where I saw the arches as wings and the light as a head.
It is a rustic sort of meal. My grandfather said that the bean jars used to be taken to the baker on Saturday night, cooked overnight in the cooling baker's ovens and retrieved, wrapped up in brown paper, by older children on Sunday morning to be eaten for breakfast.
To cook a Peter Kenny bean jar you need dried haricot and butter beans soaked overnight and boiled for an hour, beef or lamb (traditionally on the bone), lots of fresh parsley and a wee bit of fresh sage, a clove or two of garlic and a very large chopped onion. Occasionally, if the mood takes you, a bit of carrot too. Essentially you put all these ingredients in your bean jar and slow cook for a minimum of six hours on a low heat. Serve it in a bowl with chunks of brown bread and loads of white pepper.
Otherwise gradually coming down from my stress fest.
Coversations with the French Bloke and Matty Boy today. Alarmingly, the FB has had a bit of a heart scare, so is having lots of tests next week for them to work out what sort of treatment he needs. Matty was with him when I called, and we three will get together this week at the FB's place.
Meanwhile Matty and Taranjit seem to be enjoying each other's company these days, which is excellent.
Mum had been out for a three hour cross country walk with her new chum yesterday. Perhaps I can subsitute her for me to go with Anton on our South Downs walk, and meet them in the pub later.
Spoke to MJ who was clearing the last of the stuff from Kings Park, trying to decide if things were bags of toys or bags of rubbish.
Here is another photo I took early yesterday morning, where I saw the arches as wings and the light as a head.
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