Monthly Archives: August 2016

Soda Bread

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it before but I have a love/hate relationship with soda bread.

It’s simple to make, and it was the first recipe we used with kids when we started doing the education work. Even though I’ve not made it for a while I can still run through the patter without rehearsal and almost make it in my sleep.

The hate bit comes from the fact that I’m not very good at baking soda bread and it often fails to live up to expectations. At times, particulalrly if you don’t get the soda mixed in (use a sieve), it can taste downright unpleasant. Everyone says it’s nice when they bake it but I suspect it’s a case of Emperor’s New Clothes syndrome. I also suspect that the Emperor’s Old Socks would taste better most of the time.

To be fair, the loaf we made today worked well and tasted very good (if a bit salty).

Soda bread uses baking soda instead of yeast as a rising agent and is a lot quicker to make as you don’t have to wait for it rise. In fact the rise starts as soon as you mix the dough (when the lactic acid and the baking soda react to form carbon dioxide) and you have to get it in the oven as fast as you can.

It’s seen as a traditional Irish bread these days but it is first mentioned only in the 1830s in Ireland was once popular in the rest of the country. It is also baked in Austria, Poland and Serbia.

So, you may ask, why am I writing about it?

Well, it all started with us being given a bucket of wheat from the field. Julia decided that we should bake bread using our own wheat (as we did a few years ago) and it went from there.

We even cut a bit from the plot in the allotment to thrash and winnow it. In our case that meant sticking it into a bag to bash the grains free,  then rubbing it between our hands and blowing the chaff away to winnow. We didn’t produce much that way, but at least a small part of it was done from scratch. We also sieved it to take out some of the bran, leaving a nice cream-coloured flour. We didn’t really need to take out the bran but it served to demonstrate a bit more about bread and flour.

Here is the recipe. Julia got it off the internet and forgot to note where, so apologies if we’ve ripped off your recipe. Apologies for the ancient units of weight, she seems to have gone back to the 1950s for the recipe.

6 oz Self raising flour

6 oz plain flour

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda

1/2 pint buttermilk

We used 6 oz of our own flour in place of the plain flour and stuck the juice of a lemon into fresh milk to sour it, a traditional way of making soda bread in the absence of buttermilk. You can also use yoghurt and even fresh milk according to other recipes. I’ve tried them all and they all work in various degrees.

Combine the ingredients and sieve to make sure the baking soda is properly dispersed (or you can get horrible, bitter green bits in the bread. You can also sieve the soda into the mix but that can lead to some uneven results.

Add the milk bit by bit and use your hand (holding the fingers stiff) to stir it all in. #

Pat into a round loaf about an inch thick, slash a cross on the top and put it in the oven. We did 25 minutes with the fan oven at 200 degrees C, though the recipe called for 30 at 200 degrees. I suppose ours was quicker because we forgot to reduce it by 20 degree to allow for the fan.

We checked it by tapping its bottom (cue for juvenile humour) and prodding it with a thin knife because we wanted to be doubly sure.

The cuts are to let the faeries out, or the devil. Or to bless the bread, to make it easier to divide into quarters or to let it bake more evenly. That’s the trouble with Ireland, so many stories.

 

Yes, it would be better if I could finish off with a shot of cheerful people chewing soda bread but by the time I’d grabbed the camera for that bit they’d all finished it.

 

Seven healthy chicks!

Subtitle: The Incubator Diaries Part 6

I don’t think there will be any more. It’s two days since the last one hatched and time to call it a day. I will break open the remaining eggs later today and see if there’s a pattern to the hatching failures. A hatch rate of 45% is very disappointing but I suspect the fault is with the eggs rather than the incubation. It’s a lesson to build on for the future, whatever happens.

In the meantime we have seven healthy chicks.

They are now going to have a hectic three days of being the centre of attention as we have people in until Wednesday. There’s something about chicks and children that go well together.

 

 

Men in Sheds, eating scones

Bob brought some of his store of plum jam and Julia provided the scones. Really we should have made scones but we haven’t been able to get into the kitchen much this week (due to the preparations for the run) so it was off to the shop.

Everyone seemed to enjoy them, anyway and we will be making more jam in a fortnight when he is going to bring us some plums.

Next Tuesday we are going to visit a permaculture project. It’s not that Men in Sheds are particularly interested in permaculture, but the Farmer is interested in using them as free labour to build a permaculture project in the allotments. Presumably that means another year when we can’t plan anything for the allotment.

With any luck it will be something like the one we planned two years ago but weren’t allowed to do.

Planning is not a strong point of this project…

Can you add your own version of a heart-rending sigh here please.

Anyway, I enjoyed the scones and some chicks have hatched so it’s been a good day. In a moment I’m hoping to take Julia away for lunch and have an afternoon off.

 

Incubator Diaries (part 5)

I didn’t post a picture last night after all, but this is one from this morning. It’s not the world’s greatest picture but I don’t want to keep the top off too long or the humidity drops and this might make it more difficult for other chicks to hatch.

It’s just fallen awkwardly as far as the timing goes as they may be hatching over the weekend while I’m not here. Looks like I might have to change my plans.

In theory you can leave a chick for 72 hours before it needs food and water (it still has reserved from the yolk sac until that time). I like to give them access to food and water as soon as practical, which in this case means as soon as they are dry and fluffy.

When I worked for a hatchery (have I mentioned that before?) we used to fly day old breeding stock all over the world and they always arrived OK thanks to the yolk sac. There are very few places in the world you can’t reach within 48 hours.We did inject chicks with saline solution a couple of times just to be sure, but it wasn’t a common thing.

At the moment we have two dry chicks and that is still drying out. There are two more eggs that are pipped and so far that is it.

In breed terms we have two from the blue eggs and one Polish bantam.

Everybody likes blue eggs. I upset someone when we were collecting hatching eggs by refusing to sell them a blue egg to eat (I still only had three to hatch) and someone has already asked to buy the chicks from the blue eggs. I might have to upset them, as I want them for the farm so we can continue producing blue eggs.

That’s all for now – some success but not as much as I’d hoped.

Stop Press: Just had another hatch out. Tried to get better photos but they keep moving and the black and yellow of the chicks merges with the  black and yellow of the incubator.

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Phew! (Incubator Diaries part 4)

I’m in the centre, preparing to close up and pick Julia up from work. It’s been a quiet day and I  have done a reasonable amount of work, albeit of an unpaid nature.

The main part fo the day has been spent in researching historic bread recipes, and after five hours of reading the internet I’m left with the impression that although a few things may have changed (such as better yeast, electric ovens and more refined flour) bread is basically the same as it was 1,000 years ago. White bread, brown bread, rye bread. I suppose we don’t have to eat peas, beans and acorns but apart from that I’m not sure there’s much difference.

If I want to bake some historic breads I’m going to have to turn to spices rather than making plain loaves, or maybe run up the outdoor oven. It probably isn’t worth the effort as you can get that outdoor oven finish by baking it at high temperature and throwing some ash at it as a finishing touch.

Meanwhile, when I haven’t been thinking of bread I’ve been looking into the incubator.

Three of the eggs have now pipped and there’s a weedy chirping sound emerging from the machine.

This is a long way from the end result I’m hoping for, but it’s a start. At least I know some of them have developed properly.

I’m resisting the temptation to help nature along by peeling some shell off as I’m sure it’s better for chicks to do it themselves.

I’ll take a picture or two before I go and load them when I get home.

Fingers crossed!

Six more chicks!

The group was walking across the yard for a final look at the bantams tonight when Alasdair spotted a mouse. He’s not fond of mice and he’s very good at spotting small scurrying things.

However, it wasn’t a mouse, it was a chick. There were six of them altogether, four black, one yellow and one stripy.

They took some counting because Mother Hen wasn’t happy at the idea of us having a look. She was protective to the point of being aggressive and a number of the photos show a black blur attacking the photographer.

Amazing. I’m still waiting for the first signs of hatching but another hen, with no electronics, has just hatched six. That’s Hens 25 – Incubator Nil at the moment.

 

 

Cake! (Reprise)

We didn’t have many people on Tuesday, but the ones that did come all had fun, and plenty of cake.

We also did salt dough, made paper sheep and visited the animals. Yes,the hand print that doesn’t look human is from a Labrador. Next week is the final session and we’re planning a big finish.

I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.

 

A mystery solved!

Gemma and I were looking at pictures of the peacock this morning when a lady called and asked who was in charge. I pointed to Gemma because I try not to admit to things like that. It seems that a local painting group would like to pop in tomorrow to paint the Ecocentre and surrounding area.

She was surprised to see the pictures. It seems the bird roosts in one of her trees and belongs to her neighbour, who bought it at auction some months ago. They wondered what it did with itself during the day so we were able to solve all our mysteries in one go.

They were happy to learn that the peacock walks with the guinea fowl as they think it may be lonely from the way it keeps approaching other birds. At last, with the guineas, it seems to have met some suitable companions. I use the word in terms of eating and browsing habits. In moral terms I feel that guinea fowl, with their disregard for private property and road safety, are probably very unsuitable. In literary terms it’s a bit like Oliver Twist falling in with Fagin’s gang of street urchins.

 

As we spoke, a Painted Lady fluttered round the buddleia and the gentle whirring of the incubator’s humidifier could be heard working in the background.

As yet there is no sign of hatching. Only five hours to go, and if there is no sign of hatching by then my name will be mud.

 

 

The Incubator Diaries (Part 3)

I haven’t done a lot with the eggs, because I thought it was probably better to leave them alone and not be always fiddling. It’s better to leave the lid on, as this preserves the heat and humidity.

Does that sound plausible?

In truth I just didn’t get on with it because I had other things to do. That’s the story of my life – “other things to do”.  That’s on my list of things to do – improve my time management.

Fortunately when I weighed them and checked the weight loss they are just about on target. The blue eggs are spot on – weighing 153 g against a target of 152.9 g. The Polish eggs are out by 0.2 g per egg, which isn’t significant. The brown ones are a bit out – 2 g per egg. However, they are bigger and they are from older birds so the shells will be more porous and the expected loss will be higher as a consequence. We will just have to see what happens. In an ideal world we wouldn’t mix such a diverse selection, but they needed to go in when they did to hatch on a Wednesday when we could see them.

That’s the trouble with keeping a small number of birds, you end up keeping the eggs until you have enough and as they age the hatchability declines. I just checked the exact figures – keep them for 7 days and you are OK, after that they start to decline both in terms of hatchability and the health of the chicks you hatch.

It also says (which was something I once knew, but had forgotten) that they will take a little longer to hatch.

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Ready to hatch – I hope!

I am now hoping my calculations are right, because if they don’t hatch on Wednesday my life won’t be worth living.

We should have candled them by now too, but I didn’t get on with ordering the right light and I don’t have a powerful enough torch to do the job. Candling is shining a light through the egg to see if it has a developing embryo inside.  For now it will have to remain a mystery.

The turning gear is now removed and the humidity turned up to 65% (as you need to keep the egg membranes moist to help the chick get out of the egg).

By Wednesday all will be revealed!

Keeping busy

 

Sorry about the lack of activity over the last few days, we’ve been a bit busy.

For instance, while I was talking to a visitor on Thursday afternoon, the peacock came to call.

On Friday morning we visited Abbots Bromley, home of the Horn Dance. There was no dance, but there was a prize-winning butcher. I bought a pork pie and a Moroccan lamb pie. They both had lovely crispy crusts and plenty of densely packed meat. As usual, I didn’t think to take a photo until they were gone. At the risk of being a bit of a Philistine, I did find them a touch dry, as I like a bit of jelly in my pie and prize-winning pies tend to be a bit too meaty for me.  It’s probably a good thing I don’t do a food blog as I’d probably be frowned at for remarks like that.

After that we went to the National Arboretum. It’s the second time we’ve been and it was somehow less impressive than the first time, even though they have done a lot of work. I think this is because it’s now more cluttered and because a lot of the memorials now seem to be made from modern materials. We have to visit at least once more, so we will have to see.

We saw a Little Egret amongst the Canada geese, which was nice, and there were loads of dragonflies and damsel flies on the pond that cost £35,000 to build. Yes £35,000. To put it in context our butterfly garden cost £32.50 plus a lot of volunteer time and donated plants. I’m thinking of building a wildlife pond next – just need to see if someone will give me £35,000 to do it!

And yes, we did see a few memorials too.

These are for the Cockleshell Heroes, 1914 Truce (with game of football) and the Women’s Land Army. There is also a replica trench to commemorate the Great War, though I’m not sure my grandfather would have recognised it.