How to cook a cow's cheek and make a pate

A shop in a lane off the main pedestrian street in Dumfries, specialising in game and fish, also sells cheeks. No doubt they are also available from good local butchers, such as those in the food town of Castle Douglas.

This is an unusual dish these days but the Victorians were very fond of it. The cookery writer in Cassell's Family Magazine explained to readers in 1891 how to prepare cheek. She quoted a “Mrs Blakemore” who was always on hand to give advice to “Mrs Tomlin,” who had only been married for six months.

“Now about the cheek,” Mrs Blakemore went on, “That wants several hours' soaking in salt and water to remove the blood; then, by adding plenty of weak stock for gravy, and a good supply of vegetables and herbs, you may get a tureen of soup, and plenty of meat for dinner, with, as I said, some left over for potting.

She then went on to explain how to pot the meat, today we would call this a pate. “I always cut up the meat into inch squares, and season it well with salt and pepper, powdered mixed herbs, and allspice, and add an equal amount of something of a gelatinous nature, such as a cow's or calf's foot, or some ears and feet from the humble porker – all thoroughly boiled, of course; you must pack it closely into your mould, with a very little of the stock from the feet, then turn it out the next day. I forgot to say that it is much better to cut up the meat when warm.”

I hae min 'o

Some time during the 1960s a typewritten book of memories and stories about old Wigtown was compiled. The book includes sections headed “I have min o” or “I remember.” These were obviously the memories of long-time Wigtown residents. Here are some selections.

People often ate rabbit pie, sometimes with mutton in it. They grew their own vegetables and got gifts of fruit from the gardens of the big houses in the town.
On Sundays, food was a little special. In some houses that meant half an egg with the breakfast porridge; in others, it meant bacon and egg, porridge, and toast.
Ordinary folk had their main meal at noon and called it “dinner.” The gentry called that meal “lunch” and had a knife and fork tea. No one called an evening meal “dinner.” Better off people had damask tablecloths.
When the father was paid, a big ham end would be bought. For a special treat, a man had “a pint at the week-end.” As families were large and wages were small, few could afford more than that one pint a week. People baked a lot at home. Tattie scones were popular.
Farmers' wives bought eggs and butter to the town grocers to sell on Saturdays. Farmers had their own pigs and did their own curing. They also made “bleedy” puddings and white puddings. Farmers' children had bacon and eggs regularly, not just on Sundays.
On Sunday nights, children were given “a piece [sandwich] and milk” away to bed with them.
On New Year's Day there was bacon and egg for breakfast, a “fattened” fowl for dinner, and homemade ginger wine to drink.

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Here's how to make tattie scones: Ingredients – One pound of potatoes, two level teaspoons of salt, four ounces of flour, two ounces of butter.

Cook the potatoes in boiling salted water for 20 minutes then drain and mash well. Add the butter and the salt, then work in a little flour to give a stiff dough. Turn onto a floured board and roll out to half an inch thick. Cut into three-inch rounds and fry in a lightly greased pan for five minutes each side. Serve buttered while still warm.

Wild garlic ready now

The wild garlic is sweet and new now and it is a wonderful addition to recipes.

Out strolling and rolling through an ancient deciduous wood we found ourselves next to swathes of beautiful young wild garlic. This is technically known as allium ursinum, or Ramsons.

A large handful of leaves was quickly gathered and later chopped fine to be cooked with a roll of beef brisket, a lovely, inexpensive joint that needs long loving cooking but is wonderfully tender if it gets it. Our chopped wild garlic went into the slow cooker with red onions, shallot-onions, a beef stock cube, a splash of soya sauce, water and some dried herbs. Delicious. The taste of wild garlic leaves is much milder than the more familiar cloves and heads of garlic. Some people eat the leaves raw in salads – but we prefer to play it safe and enjoy them cooked.

The Latin name acknowledges the fondness of bears for the roots of the plant and these are also a delicacy much appreciated by wild boars.

Try a taste of Arbroath

The scallop boats tie up right in the centre of Kirkudbright and there is an excellent fish shop, and fish and chip restaurant, just by the moorings.

Looking at the fish, king scallops and other delights of the sea on the slab, it is always difficult to decide what to choose. Arbroath smokies were eventually selected yesterday.

Arbroath smokes are one of the glories of Scottish cuisine and recently they have been awarded EU protected denomination status – like Champagne and Melton Mowbray pork pies. Arbroath smokes can only come from Arbroath.

Smokies are made with haddock. They are first covered in salt and then tied in pairs by their tails before being hung over poles and smoked over a beech or other hardwood fire.
The process cooks them and imparts a wonderful flavour. They can be eaten cold, just picking off the flesh.

However, most people heat them up and one recommended method is to put your smokies into a pot of water which you then bring to the boil. As soon as the water starts to boil, strain it off and remove the smokes. Put the fish on heated plates, on top of thick slices of bread slathered with lots of salted butter.

Sharon made an excellent suggestion and the smokies were heated as above in milk instead of water, not quite to the boil. So, there was lots of lovely fishy milk to soak into the fresh multi-grain loaf slices.

Bells ring for Osprey arrival

The bells were ringing in Wigtown first thing this morning to announce the arrival of the season's first osprey.

Wigtown has been home to ospreys for several years with pairs arriving to settle into a giant nest and usually raising a couple of chicks. The County Buildings, or equivalent of the Town Hall, has a special bird room on the top floor with a link to a camera focussed on the nest, whose location is secret.

This morning the first arriving member of staff was delighted to see an osprey sitting calmly in the nest. She dashed for the bell rope and rang the bell to alert the town to this happy event. Quickly, people came along and there was great interest in the visitor. Apparently, no ring could be spotted on the bird when it stood up, so it may be a new visitor. Or, perhaps an older one that has lost its ring.

Half a dozen people were quickly on osprey watch at the screen but when we visited, he or she was off flying around. This is an early check in to the nest, last year the first bird arrived two days later.

Great hopes are held for this year's eggs and chicks.

Update: Another osprey arrived at the nest a short time afterwards. It was confirmed that the male was “EP” and the female “H/D” - not, perhaps, the most exciting names in the world for such elegant birds. They have both returned to Wigtown after wintering in Africa. EP has been out and about collecting sticks and started digging an egg hollow in the nest. His partner has enlarged the hollow and moved twigs around to make it comfortable. Meanwhile, swallows have also arrived, being seen in Newton Stewart and the Isle of Whithorn

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Sharon is delighted that her early spring flowers are at last making a showing after the long hard winter. "About time," she says.

Making real bacon

Ken was talking about making bacon during the Second World War.

As a child he lived on a farm and the family pig was a key part of life. Every rural family kept a pig, he said, and slaughtering was carefully planned as sharing was vital. A well-fed pig would produce a lot of meat and this would be shared with neighbours, so that everyone benefited in turn.

Ken's family used to keep their pigs until they weighed about 300lbs, although they were normally slaughtered at about 200lb. The pigs were housed in a comfortable sty and fed well. A copper pot was kept in the kitchen and into that went all the scraps, potato peelings and left-overs from meals. Once a month a ration of meal, or grain, was available and this was mixed with the other food.

The pig always had a pet name but when the time came to slaughter things were efficient. It was hit over the head with a big hammer and the throat cut before being hung up from the rafters. An Irish woman would collect the blood in a bucket to make tasty black puddings.

The next stage was to butcher the pig, with hams and “flitches” being produced. But nothing was wasted and Ken remembered with longing the “chitterlings” which were made by an elderly neighbour. She would take the intestines and turn them inside out over a stick, using her fingers to scrape away the fat. They would then be washed and put in a brine bath for about a week. The chitterlings were then woven into plaits and hung up to dry. They lasted well and when wanted, were taken down, cut up and fried with the bacon. “Lovely,” said Ken.

The bacon was made in the following way. Two large planks of oak were angled together in a V-shape and mounted on trestles. The ends were closed by other bits of oak. The flitches, or sides of the pig, were put into these troughs and steeped in saltpetre, beer and pickling spices. There was nothing very fancy about the spices, said Ken. What grew around was used, such as juniper, with the odd exotic ingredient, such as cloves. The meat was left to soak for about a week. Then it was drained and hung up to dry. The process was not over, as the children of the house then had the important job of regularly rubbing more of the curing mix into the flitches until it matured into fine bacon.

There were plenty of eggs around the farm, with some 40 to 50 chickens running about. They were kept in a barn at night to protect them against foxes and did their egg laying in the straw there. So, fried bacon and eggs were a delight. Ken said that big thick rashers were cut from the flitches, nothing like the paper-thin wafers served today. Occasionally, a larger piece would be cut and put in the oven. Hams, or legs, were also cured and roast ham was a real treat.

He explained how potatoes were kept throughout the winter. A layer of straw would be carefully laid down on a dry, flat, area. Over this would be erected a pyramid-shaped lean-to of about six straw bales. Three to four inches of earth would be packed over these and the potatoes carefully placed inside. A bundle of straw sealed the small entrance. The potatoes were kept snug and dry and could be taken out as needed to feed the hungry family.

“Life was very rural when I was a boy,” said Ken.