Kefir without tears

Actually, there's no need for tears at all, it's a doddle making your own kefir, but why waste a good title?

How to make your own kefir

The first thing you need are some kefir grains, which are little clusters of culture (bacterial, not Proust-reading). If you can't find someone with spares to give you they're easily and cheaply bought as mail order on t'internet.

If you buy them, the grains will come with instructions, which will be variations on the theme of "put the grains in milk and wait".

There are only two rules

1. Kefir grains don't like contact with metal
2. Kefir grains don't like contact with chlorinated water, but I'm not sure why you'd want to do that.
3. So it's just rule 1 really. No metal

Put your kefir grains in milk - but don't get stressy

When I started making kefir I was a bit precious and only used full fat organic milk, preferably raw, but actually they seem just as happy in semi skimmed from the milkman, the choice is yours. Other liquids you can similarly ferment with the grains, but I've stuck with milk.

I've used different containers, but ended up with a drinking glass (for ease of washing up), and making a jaunty hat from a coffee filter and an elastic band. I use about 1/2 pint of milk.

Leave the jar of milk and grains at room temperature for around 24 hours, maybe giving it a little stir with the end of a wooden spoon, and, bingo, you've done it. You're practically from the Caucuses. Do not worry if there is separation, that's fine.

If your kitchen is particularly chilly you might want to find a warmer spot, I put mine on the boiler (which is well insulated, so just slightly warm) in the winter. Mostly it just sits on a work surface though.

Sieve.

You now want to retrieve the grains. The method I've landed at is to place a plastic sieve in a cereal bowl and tip the contents of your kefir glass in the sieve. Swill and jiggle it about in the bowl until all you have in the sieve are the grains.

Plonk the grains in another glass, add milk, pop its hat on and off you go again, ready to repeat every day.

The grains will increase, so either donate any spare to a friend or dispose of them.

What's kefir like?

The kefir I make varies a bit each day, but essentially it's like a runny yoghurt. sometime with a bit of fizz. I tend to use it as a breakfast, with nuts and seeds and fruit added. It's also lovely as a drink with a square of chopped up chocolate, some chia seeds and a good shake of cinnamon and maybe some finely chopped mint leaves.

The only limit is your imagination (or Pinterest) 

Make it stop!

If you need to cease production for a while, pop the grains in some fresh milk and store it in the fridge.

If you're inspired to ferment more, here's my easy kimchi recipe.

The Wedding Letter

The wedding pork pie

I think I'll just wipe a tear from my eye and, with her kind permission to reproduce this, let Maureen tell the story...

For more information on our wedding pork pies click here

Hi Sarah,

We've just arrived back from honeymoon & we have a long list of suppliers to thank for making our wedding day so amazing, but I really had to put you top of that list! 

The wedding pie in situ at Manchester Town Hall

The pork pie cake you made for us was absolutely incredible. I worried about everything in the run up to the wedding & wondered at one point whether it would have been less risky to just go for a standard traditional wedding cake from a local supplier. We're so so so glad we didn't!

You have been hugely helpful in all our correspondence, understanding what we wanted & replying quickly (I'm afraid I did turn into a stressed out bride & you wouldn't believe how much we appreciate suppliers who reply quickly!)

The Fed Ex local office were also really helpful when we spoke to them on the Friday. Again, speaking to someone who understands how important this delivery was to us, really put our mind at ease.

The cake was delivered with no problems on the Saturday morning. I thought you might like to see what it looked like when we were done with it, so I've attached a few pics!

I had bought lots of boxes for our guests to take the pie home, I honestly thought there was way too much of it to be eaten on the day. 

I was wrong. People were actually queuing for a slice! Even when our evening food was served, everyone wanted a piece of your pie!

We had so many compliments from guests who had never seen a cake like it, & it really did become one of the talking points of our lovely day. I will post a review on Instagram when I get a minute, I'm not on Facebook but can get friends to post if you want to send me a link.

Thank you for everything & we wish you all the very best for your wonderful business.

Kind Regards,

Maureen

Gorgeous!

Scandi Cambridge. An Airbnb adventure a month

“I find Cambridge an asylum, in every sense of the word.”

— A. E. Houseman

We plan to have an AirB&B adventure each month. Not necessarily far away and just a night or two, but regularly, to riffle up our molecules a bit

I am, like all right-minded people, in love, utterly, with Cambridge's Kettle's Yard, (the 20th century art gallery in a Cambridge house), it rivals only The Sainsbury Centre at UEA in my heart. My adoration for it is probably why I've often walked past, but never been to, the much larger Fitzwilliam museum. But dear, dear Kettle's Yard is closed until next year for refurbishment, so we couldn't even be tempted by it. And I'd heard good things about The Fitzwilliam, one friend told us it was as good as the V&A for decorative arts, so September's adventure was Cambridge. 

We are alternating the choice of the actual Airbnb accommodation between us and this month was OH's choice. You'll notice a sudden contrast from last month's gloriously ramshackle riverside cabin. He found himself drawn to a very modern top floor apartment in Chesterton, which is just outside the City centre. I should explain that OH (Derek) went to Cambridge and then stayed and worked there for a decade, before moving his indie music career to Norwich, so he's a good guide to the place.

 Cambridge is famously an odd mix. There's a nucleus of lofty medieval colleges, beautifully, expensively preserved havens of academia, wearing tradition with determined insouciance, interiors swarmed around by, but protectively inaccessible to, a million tourists, There's actually relatively little for the visitors, unless they have a specific purpose to their trip, apart from walking the hard, stone pavements, past the exteriors of the colleges and spending money in the shops (leased from the colleges who own most of the real estate).

Surrounding this is suburbs of yellow bricked terraces (with some inevitably awful 60's and 70s infill, such as The Grafton Centre), at first glance looking surprisingly like any Victorian-grown industrial town. But when you have time to walk past the houses and look properly you notice gorgeously kept front gardens and discrete but expensive extensions. And there's an unmistakable hum of brain power in the air, fuelled by hip and thriving coffee shops and pubs. And everywhere flyers for performances, films, activities and events. You just have to get your eye in to appreciate the Cambridge beyond Jesus Green. It is somewhere you could have fun living in.

Home for the weekend was an Edwardian terrace, owned by a classics professor and his Finnish pianist wife, both lovely and and friendly with a good line in wit. From the outside the house looked fairly small, but inside the house was deep and beautiful. The epitome of an academic's home, lovely paintings, shelves of books and two Steinway pianos in the front room. The attic had been enlarged and converted into a lovely, light and spacious modern studio apartment, scandi styled with a kitchen and shower room, overlooking the gardens of the house and the neighbours. Perfect.

After a cuppa we walked, along the river, past the house boats and Jesus Green Lido into the City.

The Fitzwilliam started as it went on, by exceeding expectations in its cafe. As it's free entry, should you ever be casting about in the city centre for a civilised lunch venue you could certainly do far worse. Well done Fitzwilliam.

A very happy afternoon ensued, wandering amongst world class pottery, paintings and antiquities. I do love a pot, so I was particularly happy. There's a lot of social history in a bowl, as well as beauty. They've also got an excellent Georgian glass collection, which I found exquisite. 

Ravillious

OH was especially taken with the Egyptology, although conflicted by the fact that you do have to try and lay aside your misgivings about the ethics of such treasures ending up in an East Anglian fenland town.

A well-staffed bakery 1950-1985 BC

Back on the streets we found Cambridge set-dressed in that special pewter-skyed light that comes after a rainstorm.

To escape the crowds, OH exercised his right as an "old member" (just stop that sniggering right now), albeit one who has mislaid his card so had to blag his way in, to rest our over-stimulated brains in Clare College's gardens and peacefully people-watch the punts from the bridge.

To escape another downpour we stood in Jesus College's porch and stared at the Elizabeth Frink horse in its pasture of very special magical mowing.

I'd asked some Cambridge Twitter friends for their food recommendations and, foot-sore that we were, we headed to The Waterman pub for food, very close to the house, which was great. We had so many other ace recommendations that it seems a shame not to share them, so I'll add them at the foot of the page.

The best Sunday mornings always start with leisurely breakfast, so we kicked back and then made our way to the Botanic Gardens. The gardens are 40 acres of academic gorgeousness in the city centre, Kew-like, with glasshouses, specimens, and meticulous landscaping.

Strangely fascinating are the benches, with their fond dedications. There's a short story to be researched and written about every one and I shamelessly want that gig - someone commission me.

Cryptically to Syd Barrett

After another surprisingly good cafe lunch in the gardens we drove to Granchester and had a walk along the water meadows. A pretty village, somewhat dominated by the likes of us turning up to enjoy it. Oh, the guilt of a tourist.

Rupert Brooke and village friends. Less flashy than the memorial at Jeffery Archer's house down the road.

The final joy was to head back into Cambridge and have tea and cake with UEA/Norwich friends who live and work in the city and admire their new extension. I've got extension envy now and am eying the back of our cottage. Please buy more pies. ;)

We haven't quite decided what'll be next month's adventure yet. But watch this space...

The eatery suggestions.
Enough for a month. Many thanks Deepa, Pina and Val x

Cotto
De Luca
Gattuso
Steak and Honour
Stir
The Waterman
No 30
Thirsty
The Petersfield
Calverley's Brewery
196
Backstreet Bistro
Trinity
The Chop House
Aromi
Pho
Tradizioni

The tiniest train

The Wells To Walsingham Light Railway

Now, I'm not much of a one for steam trains. Somehow the gene that has directed the rest of my family to variously obsess, head to Greece on (full size) ex-UK, engine-buying expeditions, run station sweet shops etc has firmly passed me by. But I've found my exception.

As my half-anthracite brother was staying with me, and because I see a lot of the happy team at the Wells to Walsingham Light Railway on our regular visits to keep their little cafe (there will be a lot of diminutive adjectives coming up) stocked with our sausage rolls, I suggested a trip from Wells to Walsingham. And just utterly LOVED it.

The engine and carriages are so tiny they melted even my mechanically indifferent heart a little. I'd tell you the gauge, but neither of us are interested in that, are we dear reader? But what unexpectedly thrilled and excited me was the journey. It was like a long, relaxed ramble through a nature reserve. I'll list the wild flowers I spotted below, and there were plenty more. 

Most of the carriages are open, and the little engine is slow enough that you really have time to absorb what's very closely around you. More than anything, it reminded me of a sunny chug on a canal boat. Apart from the flowers, we saw deer, a buzzard, a marsh harrier and a very close (almost beak to nose) encounter with a barn owl, perched in a trackside tree.

The trip took about half an hour. You can time it to catch a later train back and have a good wander around medieval Walsingham village and buy treats at Walsingham Farm Shop. At that end there was a hilarious bold chicken, so big it was near half the size of the engine, which had to be entertainingly scooped off the track (I suspect it's an Equity member and fully trained).

Anyway, it's all delightful. On our homeward trip we even took a detour to have an evening stroll on the Warham Camp bronze age fort (which you can see from the train) and then stopped for a sip of Moongazer ale at the newly re-opened Carpenter's Arms at Wighton. 

My WWLR North Norfolk May wild flower list...

All spotted from the carriage. I'd love to know what you spot that I've missed - do add a comment below:

Wild Strawberry
Cowslips
Ox Eye Daisies
Speedwell
Vetch - yellow and purple
Buttercups
Elderflower
Bluebells
Campion (White and Red)
Scabious (Bachelor's Button)
Crane's Bill
Something blue, a bit like Viper's Bugloss but smaller
Cow Parsley
Columbine
Stitchwort

The day Kate came to play with pastry

     We know what we like and the Great British Bake Off is one of those things, we adore the gentle fun of it, the way a nation has convened around it and the fact that it's got people into their kitchen, inspired to learn skills to feed themselves and their friends and family. And we do like the contestants, who seem to be particularly nice human beings.  
     We've really hit it off with Kate Barmby from this year's series, through our  shared interests in art, swallows and Norfolk, so we've enfolded her into the floury Bray's Cottage world and she's come up to HQ a couple of times, and what's more she's brought us (oh it was so good) cake!

Kate Barmby, with pastries

      So, a week or so ago we set aside a whole day and a corner of HQ (which was a-bustle with Thursday pie baking) for pastry play with Kate. She came bristling with ideas and a scrap book of inspiration.  It coincided with a day that Emma, a key member of our creative team and a craft star in her own right, was at HQ and hot water crust pastry sculpting synergy was unleashed.
      Because of her cake and art background, Kate is an expert in sugar craft so she brought multiple tool boxes of sugar-craft implements and, as Pastry Manager Erin kept them supplied with raw materials, the pair set to work pushing the boundaries of where hot water crust pastry meets sculpture.

      Emma crafted beautiful hawthorn berries and Kate created the most glorious feathers, which were actually inspired by a magazine picture of a feather fascinator worn by that other Norfolk Kate, HRH Duchess of Cambridge.
      There was also much laughter and gossip - which we couldn't possibly reveal (unless plied with very fine wines).
      The results were breathtakingly stunning. We're so thrilled with where a friendly chat over coffee in HQ has taken us, rediscovering British pie decorating traditions with a very modern slant.
      We've decided there will be more to this story - watch this space...

Join the great British craft pastry revival...

    If you'd like to learn how, we hold regular pork pie workshops in Norwich (they also make extremely welcome Christmas presents) and we incorporate pie decoration tips.    The courses are held at the Macarons & More Cookery School and you can book online.

    You can buy our frozen uncooked pork pies online and add beautiful decorations yourself (hot water crust pastry is very easy to make) at home.  If you do feel inspired, we'd love to see the results of your efforts - drop us an email or get in touch with us on Twitter.

We also make bespoke celebration pies with your own message written in pastry (though not with Kate Barmby feathers....yet).  
 

Pygge hygge - the British version

The way of hygge

My guide to how to survive, nay, celebrate winter.

Do I need to explain hygge to you? Really? I promise you, give it a couple more weeks into the season and you won't be able to move for, possibly over-simplified, wall to wall hygge. it's exactly what lifestyle journalists love. But scoff not, you cynical Brit you. After a working boiler, know that it's your most useful armament in the face of the colder months. It's a change of perception. It's about good things. It works. Come February you'll be clinging to it, trust me. Best to start now.

A very brief synopsis is that it is the Danish/Swedish/Norwegian concept (other Scandinavian versions are probably available and the origins seem somewhat contested) of cosiness (very rough translation). If you live in a country with that many dark hours, you really need a reliable survival methodology. Whilst it also applies in summer, it's most usefully about learning to appreciate the particular pleasures that winter can bring, the joy of now, rugs, cosy fires, friends and celebratory comfort food. All at once. Whoopee.

If you've got a hankering to learn about hygge and Scandinavian culture properly my friend Signe has written a book on it and talks very sensibly about what makes it tick being a quality of equality and hardiness as well as about buns (although they count too). I recommend it (bibliography below). But meanwhile, here's my take on it all.

Pygge hygge

So this is my very British, and tried and tested experience of hygge, that I'm calling pygge hygge. And before anyone starts, we're pronouncing it Pie-gah hoo-gah. Just because we can.

If you live in North Norfolk you practically count as Scandinavian (hurrah!). Our weather and geese come from over there, we get the Northern Lights and we've got all the seals. So, I've been trying to celebrate my winter experience for several years, always with an eye over the North Sea to how they do it, and last year, after reading A Year Of Living Danishly (funny and interesting), started putting pygge hygge into practice, so these are my very British winter tips.

Go for a walk.

• Honestly, pulling on scarves and boots, getting out there every day, whatever the weather, noticing the things that are around, especially nature, will get the endorphins pumping and you'll feel all the better for it. Endorphins are your friend. And a brisk walk and stomp through puddles (possibly with an emergency pork pie in your pocket) is the perfect prequel to a treat (possibly a second pork pie). See Fika below.

Get cosy, darling

You need to stay warm, you'll never be happy if not. This is the excuse you've needed to Scandi your world up. Go for it.

• Modestly (or immodestly) invest in blankets and throws. Make the place pretty.  Living in an 18th century cottage in North Norfolk that isn't a stranger to a period draught or two, I did already have a few woollen blankets to hand.
• This. I have a grey, cashmere covered, yard-long hot water bottle which is the best thing ever. I put it on my Christmas list a couple of years ago and, expecting the fleece version, got lucky. I adore it.  The cashmere one is trés expensive, but there are cheaper options, have a google. You only put a relatively small amount of hot water in (less than a kettle full) and the squidginess means you can safely have bits of it wrapped around you.
• Have a ritual. I have a grey reindeer skin, it's beautiful. Mine came from BTOI at Holkham, again a Christmas present (thanks Charlotte for hinting at OH). It comes downstairs in autumn and that announces the start of pygge hygge.
• Start decorating the house with vases of twigs and berries. Big bowls of oranges.

• Light the fire and get the lighting right in the room. Lamps are good.
• Have candles. I'll refrain from reporting the zillions of candles per capita that the Danes get through because every else will be telling you about it, but they do look lovely. Just keep an eye on them.

Get your right brain in gear

This was something I really focused on last year, largely prompted by my friend Emma (Silverpebble2 on Instagram and @silverpebble on Twitter). Colours turn your dolphins on. Sorry, that's your endorphins. Laughing is good for you too. But there seems to be something special about creating something that adds to that sense of well-being.

• Draw. This is my thing. I try to put a mark on paper every day, I don't beat myself up if I don't succeed, but it's something to look forward to.
• Knit. Or crochet. Or sew. it's all about the concentration and colours.
• Make something, Craft is a lot less, you know, muesli these days. There are a million youtube videos out there to help you, or better still, treat yourself to a course. 
• Read. Switch the blooming tele off for a while.

The drugs

Not that kind. And it's all too easy to anaesthetise at home with alcohol, whilst we're talking about it. Although heading down the pub for a beer and a socialise (plus a fine pork pie if your pub is sensible enough to serve them) is a fabulously British version of hygge. Support your pub in winter I say. 

No, I mean Vitamin D. I'm a great believer in eating well, all the colours, masses of seasonal fruit and veg, (yes we're coming to Fika, I know that's why you're here really) but here in the Northern Hemisphere, especially with all the scarves and mittens, we just do struggle to get access to enough sunshine to generate Vitamin D, so when the reindeer skin comes downstairs I start trying to remember to take a daily Vitamin D supplement. Plus any excuse to eat a herring or two is good, the silver darlings are a mine of Vitamin D, and oh so Scandi, but joyfully British too.  

Get Social

See friends (and yes I mean in person, you social media fiends) and break bread (or indeed pie). It doesn't need to be a huge stressful production. One of the nicest things I did last winter was an indoor picnic with other small producer friends at Norfolk Gin Jonthan's house in January. We all took a few simple things to eat, a sort of Norfolk smorgasbord, put them on the kitchen table, drank a little excellent gin and tea and had a perfectly lovely afternoon.

Should you fancy replicating it we can send pies all over the country you know.

Or just drag people in for supper. Nothing fancy, pop candles and flowers on the table and they'll really be thrilled with a stew, a bowl of buttery potatoes, greens and cheese and fruit afterwards. Well, I would.

Fika. Afternoon Fika.

Finally to Fika. Fika is the Swedish practice of taking coffee, often with something sweet to eat as a social break from work in the day. Another thing (caffiene plus scheduled breaks) that makes the Scandinavians so very happy. I was all about taking this as an excuse to eat cake on a daily basis, but when I read A Year of Living Danishly and discovered author Helen Russell had embarked on her integration with such similar gusto she had to be instructed that even Danes don't eat Danish pastries every single day. Hey ho.

But on consideration, I thought the British have an inherited memory that makes for the perfect Fika equivalent. High tea. 

As Signe says, life is too short to live in a state of puritanical abstinence, but for our British Pygge Hygge, I don't mean the sort of tea that gets served in Claridges, more an afternoon cup of tea, in front of the fire, with something to eat, or at the table, presented prettily. Make it a little ritual. Cake sometimes, toast sometimes, but also a very good opportunity for a pork pie.

And there we can help you. Either one of our many stockists can provide you with pies or we can send you a box of fine pork pies, through the post, to enjoy socially at work or at home. As we like to call it, a very British Pygge Hygge.

Enjoy. Celebrate. Embrace the opportunities of the dark days.

Useful links:

Pies by post - our delicious delivered pork pies

How to Hygge - Signe Johansen

The Year of Living Danishly - Helen Russell

Yulu yard long hot water bottle

Photos - some by me and some (the good ones) by Emma Mitchell. All copyright.

Good for your right brain courses

Learn to make pork pie and sausage rolls (with me)

Emma's Silver Pebble silver clay courses

Karen's Wild Thorn knitting courses

Jane's Printing courses