"Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands, I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow".
Yes, my dear readers, you are exactly right in your astute observations, this very inspired reporter is indeed starting off this month with some poetry. The little foray into wordplay I have shared is a little musing of a fairly famous man named A.E Housman. The author was contemplating his own mortality as he wandered along a tree-lined lane one spring day, and while I can not claim to be as verbose as Mr Housman, I am certainly motivated by the forest I am walking through on the way to Momma Fox's cottage this week.
Why am I walking this way I hear you ask? It would indeed be much easier for me to walk down the street as I normally do, but today there is a catch. Momma Fox owled me only yesterday with very specific instructions that I was to bring her some plums from the forest orchard just behind her home as she was not feeling well enough to collect them herself. I have of course obliged the dear little witch and I have to confess that I am intrigued as to what we will be making as I reach her polished oak door.
One knock and a tug on the arm later, I find myself back in my usual spot on a stool by the stove as the miniature marvel hobbles slowly around the huge space, relieving me of my basket. "Good morning Momma Fox. Are you alright? What can I do to help?" I ask with a worried tone, only to be met a moment later by her twinkling smile. "Oh, I'm alright child. Just old. My bones are not as bouncy as they used to be. Let's get started, shall we? The local butcher has brought us a wonderful gift this week and I want to show you one of the best things to do with it on a fine spring day."
Nodding obediently, I could not help but smile as the familiar parchment was pressed into my hand. The venison salad recipe written on it made my mouth water almost instantaneously. Momma Fox was right. Such a dish was just the thing to celebrate a spring day with all the finery only a forest can provide!
Ingredients:
550-600g venison loin
1.5 sticks cinnamon
4 cloves
2 star anise
6 juniper berries
7 black peppercorns
500ml red wine
100g sugar
6 plums, not too ripe
2 tbsp oil
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
75g walnut halves
2 sticks celery, chopped
Salad leaves
Directions:
1. Make a dry rub by crushing 2 cloves, 1/2 cinnamon stick, 1 star anise, 3 peppercorns, 4 juniper berries and a teaspoon of salt in a pestle and mortar. Grind to dust.
2. Score the meat in a crisis cross pattern using a gentle application of the Diffindo spell then rub the venison with the spice mix and leave to marinate for at least an hour or overnight.
3. Pour the wine, sugar and remaining spices into a pan and bring to the boil. Cut the plums in half, remove the stone and poach slowly for 20mins in a pewter cauldron. Use a low fire for this because you do not want to burn the sugar.
4. Heat 2 tbsp of oil in a large non-stick pan on a medium heat. Add the venison and cook until slightly coloured, then turn the meat and do the same again. Place in an oven tray and roast at 350F/180C for 8-10mins for rare or 12-14mins for medium. Remove from the oven and rest for 10mins before slicing thinly.
5. In the venison pan, add the balsamic vinegar and 3 tbsp of the plum juices. Simmer the juices and turn off the heat once reduced. You can then use this as the salad dressing.
6. Serve with the salad leaves, walnuts and celery.
So there you have it, my lovely readers. Once again, this reporter has been thoroughly spoiled by this month's lesson. And you know what? I think I may even be getting the hang of this cooking thing. I didn't burn or ruin anything this time! The salad was heavenly even if I do say so myself. I really urge you to try it!
Until next time my food-loving friends! - Nikita