{"id":2671,"date":"2011-06-27T08:16:21","date_gmt":"2011-06-27T08:16:21","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.jamesramsden.com\/?p=2671"},"modified":"2011-06-27T08:16:21","modified_gmt":"2011-06-27T08:16:21","slug":"guest-post-the-hungry-writer","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.jamesramsden.com\/2011\/06\/27\/guest-post-the-hungry-writer\/","title":{"rendered":"Guest Post | The Hungry Writer"},"content":{"rendered":"

A dreamy bit of summertime writing kindly given by Lynne Rees. Get yourself a mug of iced tea and enjoy. <\/em><\/p>\n

Summertime. And the living\u2026<\/strong><\/span>
\n1.We lived 200 yards from a flat, sandy beach in South Wales. While other families set off for seaside resorts and holiday camps when the summer holidays arrived,we packed up the Hilman Minx, and later the Austin 1100, and set off to rural caravan parks in Somerset, Devon and Cornwall. We visited the coast, but our home was among trees, early morning dew on the grass, whitewashed toilet blocks. Watchet, Tavistock, Looe. The names of these towns are a mantra to conjure memories: fishing for crabs on an old stone harbour wall, the smell of plastic rain coats, watching my parents dance in the clubhouse. Round and round they go, smiling and flecked with light from the glittering mirror ball suspended above the dance floor.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
\nDevon c.1969
\nThe texture of summer: the raised bumps of prickly heat on my arms. Its taste: a scone spread with strawberry jam and clotted cream.<\/p>\n

2.One summer in the early 80s, when I was living in Jersey, Sue and I piled into heryellow MG, caught the ferry to St. Malo and drove down the west coast of France to LaRochelle. A few miles outside the town the exhaust broke in two but we made it to a campsite and spent a week making jewellery with two gypsy men on the harbour while we waited for the car to be repaired.
\nA week later, in the square at St. Emilion, we drank chilled Chateau d\u2019Yquem and learned that some coarse French p\u00e2t\u00e9s had little to do with the word p\u00e2t\u00e9 as we knew it but were far less intimidating and surprisingly tasty if we wrapped them in a leaf of lettuce. Or closed our eyes.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

La Rochelle 1983<\/p><\/div>\n

The look of summer: dappled light under a canopy of old plane trees. Its smell: Ambre Solaire and Gauloises.<\/p>\n

3. <\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>In Antibes summer can sometimes show its face as early as March, but by the end of June the days have settled into a predictable 28 degrees of blue sky and the occasional blustery but warm sea-wind. It\u2019s the season for family and friends to fill our house.<\/p>\n

We reacquaint ourselves with the bord de la mer <\/em>route to the airport and back, knowing already the look on the faces of our guests when they first glimpse the Mediterranean, its shades of turquoise that deepen towards the horizon. Children play hide and seek beneath the terrace of the house. Sand and flip-flops gather inside the front door.<\/p>\n

The garden is the heart of our home now: the wooden table laid and cleared and laid again as the days and weeks pass. Bread, wine, tomatoes and basil, poulet \u00e0 la flamme, <\/em>grilled proven\u00e7al vegetables, ripe cheese, fresh figs.<\/p>\n

The sounds of summer: the rise and fall of the cicadas\u2019 song, laughter.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Rillettes of Salmon<\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/strong><\/p>\n

Rillettes <\/em>has the unattractive English translation of \u2018potted meat\u2019 so let\u2019s stick to the French as it\u2019s the best way to describe this salmon dish set in butter and cream. It\u2019s what I usually make, a day or half a day in advance, for guests who\u2019ve had an early start and a long day travelling to get here; guests who need a relaxed, easy supper with not much clearing up afterwards. Add some warm new potatoes, dressed with olive oil, sea salt and chives, and you\u2019ll have a more substantial meal.<\/p>\n

What you need for 6 people:<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>3 fresh salmon fillets, between 425 and 450g in total<\/p>\n

juniper berries<\/p>\n

300g smoked salmon<\/p>\n

150g unsalted butter<\/p>\n

a lemon<\/p>\n

350 to 400 ml of heavy, whipping or double cream<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

What I do:\"\"<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

I poach the fresh salmon in a good splash of white or ros\u00e9 wine (whatever you have open), a good splash of water and the juniper berries, lightly crushed. When cooked, remove any skin, bones and dark flesh. Flake the fish with two forks and allow to cool.<\/p>\n

(I keep the crushed juniper berries with the fish because I like their flavour in the finished dish but it\u2019s a good idea to mention it before you serve as they can be mistaken for squashed flies.)<\/p>\n

Melt the butter and let it cool for 5 or so minutes.<\/p>\n

Snip the smoked salmon into small pieces and put in a blender with the melted butter.<\/p>\n

Blitz for around 30 seconds to make a paste. It doesn\u2019t matter if some little pieces of salmon remain in the paste\u2026 it adds to the final texture.<\/p>\n

Mix the smoked salmon paste with the flaked salmon in a large bowl and add lemon juice to taste.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Lightly whisk the cream until it\u2019s thick but still gloopy \u2013 you don\u2019t want fluff \u2013 and stir it into the salmon until well blended.<\/p>\n

Fill individual ramekins or one big serving dish. I once used an elegant salmon-shaped copper mould but had to blast the outside with a hairdryer to get the mousse out and it ended up looking more \u2018guppy\u2019 than \u2018salmon\u2019 so I\u2019ve avoided anything fancy ever since.<\/p>\n

Make it pretty with fresh or dried dill and lemon and leave it in the fridge for at least a couple of hours.<\/p>\n

All you\u2019ll need is French bread, ripe tomatoes and a handful of salad leaves. And of course, the rest of the wine.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Bienvenu chez nous.<\/em><\/p>\n

Bon app\u00e9tit.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A dreamy bit of summertime writing kindly given by Lynne Rees. Get yourself a mug of iced tea and enjoy. Summertime. And the living\u2026 1.We lived 200 yards from a flat, sandy beach in South Wales. While other families set off for seaside resorts and holiday camps when the summer holidays arrived,we packed up the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[4,8],"tags":[921,322,1267,684],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p1zdji-H5","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jamesramsden.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2671"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jamesramsden.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jamesramsden.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jamesramsden.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jamesramsden.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2671"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.jamesramsden.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2671\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2681,"href":"https:\/\/www.jamesramsden.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2671\/revisions\/2681"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jamesramsden.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2671"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jamesramsden.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2671"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jamesramsden.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2671"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}