Tag Archives: carrots

The Vegetable that Won the War

The Vegetable that Won the War

“Les carrottes sont cuites, je répète, les carrottes sont cuites.”

For those of you who still remember a bit of the French you learned at school, yes, I have just informed you that the carrots are cooked. It comes from an old French saying based on cookery. In a stew, the carrots are the last vegetable to cook, once that is done the stew is ready. In French this has developed into an expression meaning that something is completed and nothing can undo it. If you were in the French Resistance and had heard that message on the BBC on June 5 1944, you would have known that the invasion was coming next day.

I was actually looking for information of frozen carrots when I found that snippet about D-Day. The hot weather, and thoughts of healthy eating, brought tales of wartime ice cream substitutes to mind. For a moment, I thought of making some authentic WW2 frozen carrots and eating them as a healthy alternative to ice cream. It wasn’t one of those lasting thoughts.

In 1914 we were caught out, as we imported 66% of our food from abroad. In April 1917, despite the limited capabilities of Great War U-Boats, we were reduced to six week’s supply of wheat, We weren’t any better in 1939, with 70% of our food coming from abroad. It’s 38% these days, in case you were wondering. We were, however, more experienced in the ways of rationing, shortages and blockades, and were much better placed to cope with wartime constraints. By the end of the war people were actually healthier on average than they had been at the beginning.

A number of old-fashioned vegetables made a comeback, such as Good King Henry, also known as Poor Man’s Asparagus or Lincolnshire Spinach. It can be eaten as young stalks or as mature leaves and its pollen has been found in Neolithic, Bronze Age and Roman sites. It comes from the same family as Fat Hen (now considered a weed), spinach and (more fashionably) quinoa. It is shade tolerant, could be grown almost anywhere, is self-seeding and can be grown as a cut and come again crop – all useful qualities when you are struggling for productive space. As a general rule, though I have eaten Good King Henry and Fat Hen, there is a reason they were replaced by spinach – the leaves are small so you need to pick a lot, and they are high in oxalic acid, which can be a problem. Having said that, it is packed with iron, which was seen as a good thing during the war as it prevented anaemia in female factory workers, a major concern in the literature of rationing.

Other vegetables assumed a more important role in the garden. Kale, currently experiencing a revival in fashion has always been grown in the north, where it stands up to the weather better than cabbage. It is a tough plant, has a long growing season, is resistant to pests and contains more calcium than milk, so was particularly good for young children. It is also one of the few brassicas that pigeons won’t eat. Other vegetables like swedes, once seen as animal food, became more widely eaten, being able to grow in poor conditions (including bomb sites) and containing more vitamin C than oranges. Parsnips were also seen as important – storing well in the ground, providing sweetness and being a high energy food, with more calories per pound than potatoes.

But out of all the vegetables, the carrot stands out. Potatoes had Potato Pete, and carrots had Doctor Carrot, but only carrots had cartoon characters drawn by Disney – Carroty George, Clara and Pop Carrot. They were also the only vegetable that helped shoot down German bombers in the Blitz, by enabling our airmen to see better in the dark.

Well, that was certainly what my mother told me when she was making me eat them as a small child. It isn’t really true though, carrots can help with night adaption, but only in people suffering from Vitamin A deficiency. To me “Cat’s Eyes” Cunningham was every bit as important as Douglas Bader and Biggles in my mental list of aviation heroes. Cunningham, it is said, was less than delighted with the publicity and the nickname.

This was not the first time my parents lied to me about nutrition. My hair, for instance, never did curl, despite my consumption of large amounts of burnt toast. It was just a propaganda story to confuse the Germans about the increasing losses to their night bombers. It might even have worked, but as the Germans already had airborne radar by 1941 they probably had a good idea of what was happening. It was also put forward as a cure for “Blackout Blindness”. This was just another of those wartime myths – “Blackout Blindness” wasn’t actually a medical condition, it’s just a tendency to walk into things when there are no street lights. However, lots of people were being killed and injured in the dark and any hope of relief was good for morale.

In December 1940 the Ministry of Agriculture sent out a press release. “If we included a sufficient quantity of carrots in our diet, we should overcome the fairly prevalent malady of blackout blindness.”

The truth was that carrots were in plentiful supply and the Government needed to encourage people to eat them. By 1942 the Dig for Victory campaign plus increased farm production gave us a surplus of 100,000 tons of carrots, and the race was on to find a way to use them. carrots. One BBC employee wrote that they could always tell when carrots were available in quantity, because there would be a press release from Dr Carrot – anything that increased the consumption of carrots was welcome to Government departments

In January 1942 they suspended the restrictions of the Home Grown Carrots (1941 Crop) (Control) Order and allowed growers to wholesale their produce free from restriction. Before this, carrot growers with more than an acre of carrots had only been allowed to sell to the National Vegetable marketing Co Ltd. Despite this relaxation, carrot growing as a farmer with over an acre of carrots was quite a complex business with different rules applied if selling them for animal feed, and depending on the time of sowing. It must have been easy to get the details wrong, In September 1941 the Ministry of Food brought 2,501 prosecutions for breach of food control orders, 2,280 were successful.

The market reports for Northern Ireland in 1942 indicate that, despite the surpluses, home grown carrots were insufficient to satisfy the market and English carrots had to be imported to fill the need, highlighting what a complex business feeding a nation can be.

Apart from being an ice cream substitute and a vegetable, a propaganda tool and a cartoon character, carrots could be used as a jam ingredient. Carrot jam had been appearing to cook books for over six hundred years by the time war broke out. There were many recipes for it in Victorian cookery books. However, most of the recipes called for the juice and zest of oranges and lemons. Even one of the official wartime recipes uses them. In wartime Britain oranges were in short supply (and reserved for children), and lemons were virtually non-existent. I assume that it’s possible to make carrot jam without them, but I also assume it is not as pleasant to eat as the modern recipe suggestions on wartime food websites.

The same is true for carrot cake. The 1940s version is a small cake, and uses a few spoonfuls of grated carrot to add sweetness in place of sugar. It is not at all like the monster modern carrot cake. I just selected a modern recipe at random – the cake takes 390g (nearly 14 ounces) of sugar and four eggs. The average ration allowance per person was 8 oz of sugar and one egg a week. Frosting for the modern cake takes another 140g (5 oz) of sugar, though it was illegal, after August 1940, to put sugar on the outside of any “cake, biscuit, bun, pastry, scone, bread, roll or similar article, after baking.” For the duration of the war, ornate icing on cakes was replaced by a cardboard box placed over a plain cake.

However, a piece of dry cake could always be helped down by a swig of Carrolade, a drink made by grating equal amounts of carrot and swede and pressing the juice. Even thinking of it frightens me. The wartime kitchen was no place for the faint-hearted.

And when all other things have been tried, how about using a carrot to engineer the downfall of the Führer? The plan, hatched by the OSS (later to become the CIA) was to bribe a member of staff to inject Hitler’s carrots with oestrogen. This, they thought, would make him grow man boobs and lose his moustache – forfeiting the respect of the German people, or, alternatively, become a gentler person, with less interest in war. There are various theories why it didn’t work, including a double-cross by one of the German agents. Or, like subsequent CIA plots to kill Castro or make his beard fall out, maybe it was just a really bad idea.

Good Intentions, a Silver Cigarette Case and some Carrot Trivia

That knocking sound you can hear is one more nail in the coffin of my good intentions. I’m not sure how long it’s been since my last post, but it’s a lot longer than I meant it to be.

In that time I have written the story of Lieutenant Ken Revis MBE, the bomb disposal officer who was blinded when a group of mines went off when he was “delousing” the piers at Brighton. It’s pretty much the same story that I published here a few years ago, but I have some extra information.

It seems that the silver cigarette case I have, was not given by Lt Revis to his Sergeant, it was given by the people of Patcham. They gave a cigarette case to Sgt Woodrow and a silver cup to Revis, all the others were given silver identity discs. I suspect the gifts were dictated by what they could find locally to re-use. The book “Blinding Flash”, which I bought recently, gives the details.

The bomb fell close to a house and though it only went about twelve feet down, took four days to dig out and make safe. The aircraft that appears to have dropped it (and I confess I haven’t yet tied this up 100%) was shot down, killing all the crew. There don’t appear to have been any other planes shot down at the same time, ut as I say, I haven’t yet tied it up 100%. I may never do. But t5hen, until last week I didn’t know someone had written a biography of Lt Revis.

The men were given their gifts when they attended Patcham Church the weekend after they defused the bomb.

I’ve also done a piece on carrots in wartime. That was a nicer one to do – nobody died and nobody was injured. One or two may have turned orange, but that’s a risk you take with vegetables.  Did you know there was a plot to feed oestrogen to Hitler by injecting his carrots. No, that’s not a euphemism, the Office of Strategic Services (an American organisation that later became the CIA) developed a plan to bribe Hitler’s gardener to inject oestrogen into carrots. The plan was that he would either become a gentler person and stop the war, or that he would grow man boobs and his moustache would fall out, thus making the German people lose respect for him. It does not appear to have worked, tough when you look at the state of Herman Göring in later photos you have to wonder if he was the one nibbling the carrots.

They had a similar plan later for contaminating Castro’s boots with thallium, which would, they hoped, make his beard fall out and make him less capable of leading Cuba.

And no, carrots don’t help you see in the dark unless you are deficient in Vitamin A.

Carrot & Ginger Soup

Carrot Recipes and Procrastination

 

Vegetables – Carsington Water

I’ve just been looking up recipes for carrots as we have plenty (partly because of my faltering good intentions regarding soup) and because they are good for us. We have Pasties for tea because Julia spotted some on special offer and bought them. She does that. She also bought meatballs. We already had sausagemeat for me to make meatballs, so that had to go in the freezer. I don’t mind her buying stuff, but I do wish she would (a) cook it herself instead of expecting me to make something of her varied choices and (b) think about the food we already have in before she adds random ingredients. None of this applies to burgers. If she wants to bring burgers home, I’m all for it.

Carrot recipes on the internet fall into four main categories – carrot cake, orange soup, added to potatoes for rosti/fritters, and roasted. There is a subcategory of roasted – roasted with exotic names and ingredients. So tonight we are having roasted carrots with parsnips and asparagus. And you are correct, I didn’t need a recipe for that. I just wasted 20 minutes looking at useless recipes before deciding on what was already in my head.

Tonight we will be having Ginster’s Cornish Pasties on Special Offer with carrots and parsnips (oven roasted in a pretentious manner – or manière prétentieuse as we top chefs call it), seared asparagus spears (which means you can scorch them a bit without anyone complaining), and sauce brun. I like brown sauce on my pasties. I like brown sauce on nearly everything. The fact that brown sauce improves most of my cooking is, I fear, a comment on the quality of my cooking, rather than a compliment to the culinary qualities of brown sauce.

Pie, gravy and roasted veg

 

No Inspiration Yet…

At 10am on Sunday Julia posted the Covid test kit. At 10.30 this morning she had a text with the result. It is negative. Credit where credit is due – this is a very efficient piece of work and the laboratory staff are to be congratulated.

If I say that was the most interesting thing in my Sunday, apart from a salted caramel chocolate brownie Julia bought when she went out for a walk, you may see what a waste my day has been. Again.

Now that spring is coming I really should be perking up.

I stalled in my writing, decided to have a cup of tea and a sit down, and ended up falling asleep through the midnight deadline. I’m still not much better placed as far as inspiration is concerned,, because Monday hasn’t exactly been a day of laughs. I dropped Julia off at work, went to the doctor, found my blood testing forms weren’t ready, despite my telephone conversation and email, and came home to make toast, wash up and stare at a blank screen.

Last night I had a strange dream about my legs being paralysed. I woke to find that I was laying on my side with my feet caught in the duvet. I’m not sure how I managed it, but they were held tightly together and I was trying to kick my way free.

A doctor rang me in the middle of the morning, to check on the blood test request. We discussed a few other problems we have had over the months and she was able to unravel several mysteries about missing prescriptions over the last few months. I felt slightly guilty as (a) I’m not ill and (b) all the years spent to train as a GP should not be wasted doing admin. It’s just unfortunate that the admin team at the surgery couldn’t have done it. I am beginning to suspect that deep in the bowels of the NHS Electronic Prescription system, there are a number of random faults that keep casting up aberrations.

I am doing the menu for tonight through to Thursday now. It’s sausages with roasted veg – the accent being on carrots. Tomorrow will be sausage and mash with mashed carrot and parsnips, and onion sauce. I have too many carrots. Even carrot soup for Wednesday lunch isn’t going to bring the numbers down significantly. I’m going to start eating carrot sticks for lunch too.  Looks like carrot hotpot on Thursday…

 

 

 

 

Soup!

I have 28 minutes to post, and am going to give it my best shot. Please excuse the haste and the worse than normal editing.

Today’s main event, apart from a hospital phone call (which was a duplicate of the one I got yesterday) was the soup. We had half a dozen manky carrots, a medium sized parsnip and a swede (rutabaga) which was beginning to look a bit grey round the cut end. My solution – root veg soup.

This is a lockdown recipe, because with only shopping every week or ten days I’m not quite getting the supplies right and we needed to get through a few more roots.

I also had the green end of a leek, so I softened that and roasted the roots whilst cooking the tea last night. I then boiled it with stock and spices (2 tsp cumin, 1 tsp ground coriander, half a tsp of lazy chilli from a jar) and left it covered overnight. No need for a fridge, we are having a cold spell here at the moment. We always do once we start putting plants outside.

Today I added some lazy garlic from a jar, a touch more chilli and reduced it to a smooth consistency with a stick blender. I tried to leave  afew flecks of red, but they didn’t stand uput in the finished soup. Sometimes I use finely chopped red chillis – they stand out better.

The result was a nice beige soup with an interesting flavour and a touch of mild heat. I’m not sure that it needed the ground coriander, as I can never really taste it when I use stronger tasting spices.

Finally I added a spoonful of turmeric to brighten it up a bit. I’m not sure if the photos show it, but you get a slightly brighter orange/yellow soup when you do that.

Things I didn’t add – mushrooms and kale (despite kale being virtually compulsory in recipes these days. I thought mushrooms would be confusing, though they do need using soon, and I couldn’t be bothered to take the kale off the stalks (I didn’t want to spoil the consistency by putting stalks in. I was going to put kale in at the end rather than boil it with the rest of the veg.)

It made far more than we needed and we will be having it tomorrow too. And Friday. However, it’s good and cheap and you can have sandwiches with it so it helps dodge the salads.

The one on the left has no added colour, the one on the right has the turmeric added. The one in the header picture was taken with flash, which made it look a richer colour and wasn’t a fair comparison to the original beige.

I rose a little earlier than usual this morning, which is part of my new plan. It is necessary, after weeks of casual slacking, to return to the world. Rising earlier will help me get more work done, and if I get up fifteen minutes earlier each day I won’t notice the gradual change. By the time I go back to work I will be rising with the lark and facing the day with fortitude. Not that we have a lot of larks in Nottingham, in the morning or, indeed, at any time of the day.

As I descended, ready for the day, the post arrived. I now have a new supply of bran for the bokashi bucket. We are producing a lot more vegetable waste these days as a result of healthy eating. As we gradually work our way through the carrots I am also peeling more – there’s something very unappetising about the skin of an aging carrot.

I will be finalising our shopping list later in the day, and carrots won’t be on it.

The second parcel contained masks. I’ve only bought ten, but I thought I’d get a few just in case. Government advice is still that we don’t need them, but this might change and it’s easier to wear a proper mask than make one from a handkerchief and two rubber bands.

face mask on blue background

Photo by Anna Shvets on Pexels.com

In the evening, acting on Tootlepedal’s advice, I watched some improving TV. First I watched a painting programme, which would have been useful if I had any talent for painting. Then I did the washing up while Julia watched an Andy Warhol exhibition at the The Modern. We then sat down for two programmes about Philip Larkin. He was an interesting though slightly repellent character, but I knew that. The first programme was by someone who had known him and was quite interesting. The second was by someone who had trained as an actor before becoming an academic. That one was interesting because it showed how an academic can build a media career.

Just after midnight I checked in with TESCO, which has no delivery or collection, and ASDA, which did have a collection slot. I did some ordering then had a look at the list for our Thursday collection. It’s hard doing the shopping by remote control.

Rhubarb, Ratatouille and a Recipe

The main feature of the day has been the succession of texts and phonecalls.

The first one, from an unknown number, was a bit of a worry as there is always a chance that it is bad news. Once I found out it wasn’t bad news I decided that it’s nice to know there are people out there, despite the isolation. Several of the calls have been people checking to make sure we have everything we need, which is comforting, though it does make me feel old.

I am now watching TV, blogging and breathing in the comforting scent of rhubarb crumble as it cools in the kitchen.

I am mentally preparing myself to cook tea. It’s not that cooking tea is difficult, but as I’m doing a roast it has to be at least as good as the one Julia made a couple of days ago. It’s the same meat, warmed up, but the trimmings all need doing and it won’t do to make a mess of things or she will mention it several times a day for the next week.

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Rede Crested Pochard – Arnot Hill Park

We will be having carrots (because I have bought too many recently), parsnips, sprouts, broccoli and asparagus. We don’t usually have asparagus, but variety is good for us and I threw it in the basket without thinking about what it would go with.

That’s the problem with lockdown, you have to spend so much time planning your food. I was very well organised at one time but after moving to the city and being near a supermarket that was open 24 hours (apart from Sunday) I have let things slip. It has been hard getting them back in line and, with some groceries being short it has been tempting to put a little extra in the basket.

First, there is the menu for 7-10 days, then there is working out the shopping list, ensuring that things won’t go off and actually getting into a shop. At that point you have to hope you can get everything you need, make substitutions, and resist the temptation to add too many snacks. I think I may have covered that before, when talking about the cake and biscuits that found their way into my basket on Wednesday.

Julia is managing to keep her exercise routine up by gardening, working out and running on the spot. My regime of lifting the remote control, walking to the kettle and a little light typing, is not quite so healthy, though it seems to work for me. That’s why I need to cut down on snacks and resist the cake.

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Tufted Duck – Arnot Hill Park

Tomorrow I am going to cook a pan of carrot soup. I really have bought too many carrots.

I’m also going to look at a recipe for Burnt Aubergine Chilli Number One Son sent me. It involves, as you may guess, burning an aubergine. Gas will do nicely, according to the recipe, and a barbecue will give it a nice smokey flavour. The recipe is strangely uninformative about the likely results using a garden flamethrower to do the charring. No doubt it will make for an interesting experiment for the middle of the week.

It’s about time to vary the menu. In fact, if the lockdown is extended for another couple of weeks, it is essential. Much more ratatouille and I’m likely to have a meltdown. We will be having it tomorrow (ratatouille, that is, not a meltdown), and I’m looking on it as a penance rather than a meal. Crumble, on the other hand, is always a pleasure. I will finish now as it’s time to eat.

The photo theme of the day is ducks.

They are interesting, cheerful, and they taste good.

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Mandarin Duck – Arnot Hill Park