Friday 24 September 2010

sebastian coe

Do you want to make even more money for (not that good) ex Olympian Sebastian Coe, he wants you to work free ok.Him and the Olympics have already tossed old people and others out of their houses to build the Olympic stadiums  and now he wants people to work free as volunteers cos he doesn't want to lose profits, is that ok
The Olympics won't just run themselves, you know. Seventy thousand unpaid volunteers are required to turn up and smooth the wheels of the greatest show on earth, otherwise the tickets won't get checked, the litter won't get collected, and the spectators will get lost. Are you game enough, or mug enough? You decide.

Wednesday 22 September 2010

porcini and others

If you want to pick mountain porcini, you best keep your ear to the wall. No one casually gives up their patches of porcini. It's hard enough to predict where and when the buggers will fruit as it is.




Here in the Cascades we get two, possibly three distinct fruitings of porcini: the spring variety, which is now officially known as Boletus rex-veris; and the summer/fall varieties, which might be distinct from each other but get lumped in together as a single species with the famous porcini of Italy, Boletus edulis. All varieties are deserving of their nickname "king bolete." With their firm flesh and nutty flavor, they might be my favorite wild mushrooms of all.



A couple weeks ago while picking huckleberries I got a tip from some hikers that a lot of mushrooms were fruiting to the south. The next day I hopped in the car and made an educated guess about where to go. Mountain porcini like high elevations, and they're picky about tree composition. True firs and spruce are the ticket. After a three-mile hike I started to see them—first some blown-out flags in the sunny areas and then fetching number one buttons emerging out of the duff in more shaded spots.



When picking porcini, always make sure to field dress them right away. I trim the end to check for worm holes, then cut the mushroom in half. Often a pristine looking bolete will show signs of bugs once you slice it open, but the infestations will just as often be local to a small area of the cap or stem that can be trimmed away. Whatever you do, don't simply put a porcino in your basket to trim later at home. I've learned the hard way that a basketful of beautiful buttons can be a worm-ridden mess by the time you get home if you don't deal with the bugs immediately.



By the end of the day I had nearly 10 pounds of mostly perfect porcini buttons (having thrown away twice that amount as too far gone). What a dilemma! I had more porcini than I could use. Some I cooked, some I gave away, and the rest got pickled.



Pia's Pickled Porcini



My friend Cora, who stars in the morel hunting chapter of Fat of the Land the book, passed this recipe along to me from his father's cousin, who lives in Cortemiglia, Italy. She gathers 20 to 50 pounds of porcini annually, so putting up some is a must.



2 cups white vinegar

2 oz water

2 tsp salt

extra light olive oil

1/2 tsp peppercorns per jar



Clean and quarter porcini buttons. Bring vinegar, water, and salt to boil. Cook porcini in batches, no more than 3 minutes per batch. Drain on paper towels and set aside to dry for at least 8 hours. Pack sterilized jars with porcini and peppercorns, then fill with extra light olive oil (use safflower oil if keeping more than 6 months).If you go down to the woods today ...




... you could pick lots of delicious, edible wild mushrooms. They are perfect for risottos and just as wonderful on their own. Mark Hix gets picking and mixing.





Saturday, 21 September 2002

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Since I got into picking fungi in Epping Forest I don't think I've bought a button mushroom. It only takes a couple of forays to become hooked on the thrill of wild mushroom hunting, and buying mushrooms from shops seems far too tame by comparison. Like joining an undergrowth cult, you'll want to get out there with the outdoors types scouring the woodland for hidden treasure, and if you go down to the woods you'll come across foragers of all nationalities, each hunting for different varieties.





Since I got into picking fungi in Epping Forest I don't think I've bought a button mushroom. It only takes a couple of forays to become hooked on the thrill of wild mushroom hunting, and buying mushrooms from shops seems far too tame by comparison. Like joining an undergrowth cult, you'll want to get out there with the outdoors types scouring the woodland for hidden treasure, and if you go down to the woods you'll come across foragers of all nationalities, each hunting for different varieties.



In most other European countries, mushrooms, like berries and herbs, are an obvious source of wild food and the custom of picking them is part of the way of life. Here we've only recently come to realise that there is meaty vegetarian food in the forest for free. But competition is hotting up. If you want to join us, now is the time to give it a go, though I'm not sure seasoned mushroom gatherers welcome newcomers to their territory. And some forests like Epping are demanding that mushroom gatherers have a licence.



Beginners should go with someone who knows what they are doing, or consider joining an organised expedition. In France you can take any wild mushrooms you're not sure about to the chemist to be identified, but it won't work in the nearest branch of Boots. Mushrooms by Roger Phillips is the best book I've come across and comes in a pocket-sized version for on-the-spot identifications when you're out in the woods.



Of the many that are edible – and beware, some varieties have lookalikes that aren't good for you – oyster mushrooms, or pleurotes, are among the most easily recognisable. They're plentiful on dead trees and if you hit paydirt you could soon have a carrier bag full for free.



For the restaurants, our best source of top quality fungi is Scotland where teams of locals pick them to be sent straight to London. We get through ceps, girolles and morels like they are going out of fashion. The season is shortish, and they are best eaten fresh with very little done to them, so we can't resist.



In the States you rarely see wild mushrooms for sale and diners are somewhat suspicious of them. On a trip to Boston, I noticed some porcini growing in one front garden on a posh housing estate as we drove back after lunch. I got the driver to screech to a halt and we nipped out and gathered a couple of kilos in a few minutes, like kids scrumping apples. But that night's dinner guests didn't know what to make of my discovery and just pushed the fungi round their plates. They only know the cultivated varieties like shiitake, oyster and Portobello. But these can never match the delicate flavour of true forest mushrooms, and are best used for Oriental cookery. Nor is there the same thrill buying them as there is getting up at dawn (or raiding someone's lawn) to pick them yourself.



Preparing Wild Mushrooms



As far as possible try not to wash wild mushrooms as this can make them boil when you sauté them, destroying their delicate flavour. Either brush off any soil or wipe them with a damp cloth. Mushrooms such as ceps can be scraped clean with a small knife as can pied de mouton. Chanterelles and girolles really just need a brief trim.



Fried duck's egg with ceps



Serves 4



Along with eggs laid by quail and specialist breeds of chicken, duck eggs seem to be becoming more popular. They have a large, pale yolk and they're great for frying or scrambling.



400g ceps, cleaned and sliced

60g unsalted butter

1 clove of garlic, peeled and crushed

1tbsp chopped parsley

4 duck eggs

Olive oil for frying



Melt half the butter in a frying pan and gently cook the ceps for 2-3 minutes until they begin to colour and soften. Add the garlic and the rest of the butter and season with salt and pepper. Meanwhile gently fry the duck eggs in a non-stick frying pan until just set and season the white with a little salt. Turn the eggs out on to plates, add the parsley to the mushrooms and spoon over the eggs.



Porcini salad with shaved Parmesan



Serves 4



When you have perfect fresh, firm ceps (porcini) this is a delicious and simple light starter to show them off. I've had this a few times but the best was at the Old Manor House in Romsey, probably because I knew that Mauro the owner had picked the mushrooms within the last 24 hours. If you like, add a few leaves of rocket.



400g firm, fresh ceps (allow 80-100g ceps per person)

Juice of 1/2 a lemon

3tbsp extra virgin olive oil

Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

50-60g Reggiano Parmesan



Clean the ceps by wiping them with a damp cloth and trimming any soil from the stalks with a small knife. Slice them thinly and lay flat on to four plates. Mix the lemon juice with the olive oil and season with sea salt and black pepper. Drizzle over the ceps and leave for about 5 minutes.



Shave the Parmesan with a vegetable peeler or a sharp knife and scatter over the ceps.



Wild mushrooms with creamed polenta



Serves 4



Polenta can be rather bland made the traditional way just with water. If you are serving it with a meaty stew it's fine, but when it's accompanying more delicate ingredients like mushrooms it needs a bit of body, so make it richer and more interesting with milk, garlic, herbs and Parmesan. Either a mixture of seasonal wild mushrooms or just one variety works for this dish.



2tbsp olive oil

450-500g wild mushrooms, cleaned and prepared

2 cloves of garlic, peeled and crushed

60g butter

1tbsp chopped parsley



For the polenta 400ml milk


1 clove of garlic, peeled and crushed

Salt and freshly ground white pepper

1 bay leaf

40g quick cooking polenta

40g freshly grated Parmesan

40ml double cream



To make the polenta, bring the milk to the boil in a thick-bottomed pan then add the garlic, bay leaf and seasoning. Simmer for another 5 minutes then whisk in the polenta. Turn the heat down as low as it will go and cook slowly for 10 minutes, whisking f every so often so it doesn't stick to the bottom of the pan. Add the cream and Parmesan and cook for a further 5 minutes. Take off the heat, cover, and put to one side until required.



Meanwhile heat the olive oil in a heavy-bottomed frying pan and gently cook the mushrooms for about 5 minutes until lightly coloured. Add the garlic and butter, season with salt and pepper and stir well. Cook for a few more minutes on a lower heat until the mushrooms are soft. Add the parsley. To serve, spoon the polenta on to four plates and scatter the mushrooms and butter over the top of each.



Wild mushroom risotto



Serves 4



Except in a few very specialist delis, arborio used to be the only risotto rice you could find in this country. Now vialone nano and carnaroli are available in supermarkets, too. Use any of these for risotto, because they allow the stock to be absorbed without the grains falling apart and releasing too much starch. Result: firm, creamy risotto, not starchy and soggy, which is what you'll get with pudding rice. The basis of any risotto is good stock. You can't get away with any old cube, but you can now find mushroom stock cubes and porcini powder in specialist shops and Italian delis.



For the mushroom stock



1 small onion, peeled and roughly chopped

Half a leek, roughly chopped and washed

2 cloves of garlic, peeled and roughly chopped

1tbsp vegetable oil

200g button mushrooms, washed and roughly chopped

10g dried ceps, soaked for 2 hours in a little warm water

A few sprigs of thyme

5 black peppercorns

1 bay leaf



For the risotto



200g carnaroli rice

70g butter

Mushroom stock

Salt and freshly ground white pepper

1tbsp double cream

200g seasonal wild mushrooms, prepared, cleaned and chopped into pieces of similar size

1tbsp parsley, finely chopped

20g grated Parmesan



First make the stock. Gently cook the onion, leek and garlic in the vegetable oil without colouring until soft. Add the rest of the ingredients, cover with about 11/2 litres of water, bring to the boil and simmer for 1 hour, skimming occasionally. Strain through a fine-meshed sieve and keep hot if using straightaway. The stock should be strongly flavoured; if it's not, reduce it until the flavour is concentrated.



To make the risotto take a thick-bottomed pan and melt 30g of the butter, add the rice and stir for a minute on a low heat with a wooden spoon. Gradually add the stock a little at a time, stirring constantly and ensuring that each addition of liquid has been fully absorbed by the rice before adding the next. Season with salt and pepper.



When the rice is almost cooked add 40g of the butter and the cream, check the seasoning and correct if necessary. The risotto should be a moist consistency, not too stodgy.



Meanwhile cook the mushrooms in a little olive oil for a minute or so. Stir the mushrooms into the risotto with the parsley and Parmesan and serve it immediately.Simply learn how to identify at least a few edible species and pick only them. You will also need to recognise any poisonous species with which they might be confused. For a start, you'll need a good field guide – perhaps the one mentioned above, or Mushrooms, by Roger Phillips, or Mushrooms: River Cottage Handbook No 1, by John Wright. This will tell you not only what particular species look like, but at what time of year you are most likely to find them, and in what surroundings. Some prefer grassland, others woods. Some wood-lovers prefer deciduous trees, others conifers. Some conifer-lovers prefer pines, others larches. Some conifer-lovers grow on the tree itself, others near it. Some edible varieties, such as the beefsteak fungus, grow so high among the branches you may need a ladder to pick them . . .




Book learning is not enough, however. You should also get some personal tuition, either by enrolling on a course or by going on forays with a more experienced neighbour. Unless you're positive they know what they're talking about (be very nervous if anyone tells you "I'm sure that's safe to eat, but I'm not sure what it's called" or "They don't normally look like that but that's where I found them last year"), check everything you're told against your guide. And if you have the slightest doubt about what you're looking at, leave it alone. This, in fact, is the golden rule once you feel confident enough to go picking on your own: unless you're 100% sure you have identified your mushroom as edible – ie, you can put a name to it – leave it. Cap the wrong colour? Leave it. Growing at the wrong time of year? Leave it. In the wrong place? Leave it. Better to sacrifice a thousand meals than your health.



When you get home, take another hard look at what you've picked. If anything causes you even a flicker of concern, into the bin with it.



If you want to make life easy for yourself (and why wouldn't you?), begin by searching for boletes, a family that includes some of the tastiest mushrooms there are, from the ceps that are so delicious in risotto to orange birch boletes with their bright caps and grey-flecked stalks. You'll mostly find them in or just outside woods, often beside paths or in clearings where they get a mix of sunshine and shade. Once you know what to look for, you need never confuse a bolete with a member of any other family. They have caps and stalks, like most of their peers, but the resemblance ends there. While most mushrooms have "gills" beneath their caps, radiating horizontally from the stalk like spokes on a wheel, boletes have tiny vertical "tubes", packed so closely that they seem to form a solid or slightly spongy mass. Look at your field guide if you're not sure what I mean. In fact, look at your field guide anyway. As you should have realised by now, only someone with a death wish would pick mushrooms based on a description in a newspaper.



Not only are boletes common; there aren't many varieties, so identification shouldn't be too difficult. Best of all, of all the boletes you will encounter in Britain, none is likely to kill you. Barring some freak reaction, only a handful will even make you sick, such as the devil's bolete, with its red tubes and pale cap, or the lurid bolete, with its handsome red and yellow stalk and yellow tubes. If ever there was a beginner's mushroom, the fungal equivalent of the bike with training wheels, it's the bolete.



Mind you, some people will find a way to turn anything into a dangerous sport. In Italy, at least 18 people have died gathering mushrooms this year. They weren't poisoned; they fell down mountains. Some of them had gone picking in the dark.
Morels (Morchella) are edible mushrooms that are prized by gourmet cooks, particularly for French cuisine. These distinctive fungi have honeycombed caps composed of a network of ridges with pits between them, a hollow interior, and an intense earthly flavour. Morels, abundant in Europe are often called pinecones, sponges and brains in North America, where the official state mushroom of Minnesota is the morel.




Morels are typically found in moist areas. Trees commonly associated with morels include ash, sycamore, tuliptree, dead and dying elms, and old apple trees (remnants of orchards). Morels appear to like areas that have been burnt, and will grow abundantly in the two and sometimes three years immediately following a forest fire. However, where fire suppression is practiced, they may grow regularly in small amounts in the same spot year after year.



The Common Morel (Morchella esculenta) grows in spring, often in woodland clearings. They have a distinctive appearance, their caps criss-crossed with irregular, pale brown ridges between which are darker brown hollows in which the spores are produced. The stalk is whitish becoming yellowish or reddish when old. There are several other British

species of Morchella, all edible.



The best known morels are the Yellow Morel or Common Morel (Morchella esculenta), the White Morel (M. deliciosa), and the Black Morel (M. elata). Discriminating between the various species is complicated by uncertainty regarding which species are truly biologically distinct. Mushroom hunters refer to them by their colour (e.g., grey, yellow,

black) as the species are very similar in appearance and vary considerably within species and age of individual.



You will typically find the morel begin to darken along the stems as well as the cap as it ages. With cooperative weather conditions the morel can survive for up to two weeks before the natural decay process is likely to set in and begin to take place. Morels with some damage to the cap can still be good to eat, as you cut the bad bits off when you

prepare them for cooking.



When gathering morels, care must be taken to distinguish them from the poisonous false morel (Gyromitra esculenta and others). The false morels are a group of fungi related to the true morels which fruit in the same places at about the same time. In false morels the fruitbodies are wrinkled rather than honeycombed.



The most deadly of the false morels is Gyromitra esculenta. The head of this species has a brain-like appearance and the support stalk is short and stout. Over the years hundreds of people have died after eating this fungus. Some people can eat it with no ill effect because they have a high threshold for the toxin it contains. Symptoms are delayed and

nothing untoward may be experienced for 4-8 hours after ingestion. Early symptoms are stomach cramps accompanied by vomiting, watery and/or bloody diarrhea, weakness, lassitude and severe headaches. This is followed by loss of balance, jaundice (as the liver deteriorates), and then in some cases, convulsions, with the victims eventually becoming

comatose and dying.



One of the easiest ways of determining the false morel is by slicing it lengthwise as false morels are not hollow. The false morel is also quite heavy as it is almost solid in the stem and meaty, and often referred to as "cottony".



Morels are delicious and can be eaten stuffed, broiled, sautéed, or incorporated into meat, egg recipes and casseroles. Morels freeze and dry well, but are at their best when firm and fresh. The white morel is considered to be superior in taste and texture to black morels. Specimens that can be cleaned with a brush are preferable to those that have to be washed since washing tends to reduce the intensity of the morel flavour. If you haven't tried morels before, cook them simply the first time - sauteed slowly in butter with a little cream added at the end and served on toast will allow you to experience the essence of the nutty, refined morel flavour.



Morels Stuffed with Lamb recipe (serves 4)



500g minced lamb

large fresh morels (quantity depends on size)

4T fresh tarragon, chopped

1/4 t ground cardamon

3 clove garlic, crushed

1 egg

3 T cracker crumbs



Try to select morels that are about the same size so this dish will cook evenly. Clean the morels and slice lengthwise (the number of morels required varies from 6-20 depending on size). Put the remaining ingredients into a bowl and mix thoroughly. Stuff each half morel with the lamb mixture. Place the morels in a glass baking dish and bake in a 350 degree oven for 25-35 minutes or until the meat mixture is barely done.



Stuffed in smaller morels this dish is a delicious appetizer, larger stuffed morels make an excellent main dish served with a rice and wild rice pilaf and a green vegetable. Accompany the meal with a good red wine.My first ever trip down there was really by chance, I was visiting a farm to purchase some chickens (I keep a few at home for fresh eggs, you simply cannot beat a fresh free range egg from a well fed chicken that has had a diverse diet) anyway I digress.... I was early so stopped near Beaulieu, about 2 miles away I suppose and decided to go for a walk in the forest with my wife Cathy. It must have been about 11ish am so not perfect - ideally you should collect earlier than 11am as the later you leave it the more chance of maggot infestation from flies (and other foragers will have bagged the best fungi) It was September - which is just about the start of that special time when the majority of really good fungi start to appear (e.g: Ceps).




So there we were sauntering down this leafy glade, I had half an eye out but being as we only had 30 mins to kill, I had no equipment with me (knife, basket, Identifier cards, brush etc) I was not paying particular attention then wham!! right before me, 20 yards away in a sort of surreal haze (well OK it was not but it appeared that way in my minds eye) there was the largest troop of the king of all mushrooms, the Porcini, or Cep (penny bun) This troop of mushrooms of consisted of about 12-14 specimens covering a few feet radius (I have never seen them in a quantity like that, usually twos or threes) but it was the size of them, they were mostly over 5inches across the cap, further more they were largely clean and uneaten by slugs! It was truly amazing. A cep of that age/size is almost certainly going to have some deterioration through pests but these were not far of the best you could expect.



It was that day that I vowed to return to the New Forest and since then have found more variety, quality and abundance than anywhere else



So there you go. The New Forest is spectacular. I will add new locations soon as I am writing about various parts of the Uk now. The aim is to help you find fungi in your area. If you are really struggling, drop me an email where you live and I will see if I can recommend a place to start based on what I have been told and picked up over the years.



You can help others yourself, why not post in the "forager" section and share your revent foraging trip stories.




•<!--[if !supportLists]-->Areas that have a high moisture content i.e: are damp <!--[endif]-->


• Areas that have lots of old rotting tree matter and wood <!--[endif]-->

•<!--[if !supportLists]-->The base of many trees such as the Pine or Larch (the Larch Boletus is found here) <!--[endif]-->

•<!--[if !supportLists]--> Look up as well as down– Chicken of the Woods (a bracket fungus) grows in the bows of Oaks and is very tasty when cooked (do not eat raw) <!--[endif]-->

•<!--[if !supportLists]--> Amongst dense leaf deposits <!--[endif]-->

•<!--[if !supportLists]--> Areas that are mossy and are not massively overgrown <!--[endif]-->

•<!--[if !supportLists]--> Old land that has had little disturbance <!--[endif]-->

•<!--[if !supportLists]--> Fields with olds woods with mixed deciduous trees - within a 200 yard range – these are very good as fruiting bodies will come from mycelium sometimes over a mile (and further) from the woods. <!--[endif]-->

•<!--[if !supportLists]--> Many mushrooms have a mychorrizal relationship with trees and feed off them but the actual fruiting body can appear a long way off. For example, when you see a fairy ring of mushrooms in a field, the likelihood is that the fungi it connected to a nearby woods and would not exist without it.

<!--[endif]-->

•· The older the land, the more mycelium will occur (fungi roots for want or a better description)<!--[endif]-->Recommended Wild Mushroom Stuff




The Mushroom Feast: A Celebration of All Ed...

by Jane Grigson

£8.41 The Complete Guide to Edible Wild Plants, M...

by Katie Letcher Lyle

Collins Wild Guide - Mushrooms and Toadstools

by Brian Spooner





Mushroom Picker's Foolproof Field Guide: Th...

by Peter Jordan

The Complete Mushroom Hunter: An Illustrate...

by Gary Lincoff

£14.44 Collins Wild Guide - Mushrooms and Toadstools

by Brian Spooner





SUTTONS SEEDS: Mushroom Spawn

£4.25 Peter Jordan's Wild Mushroom Bible

by Peter Jordan The King of all mushrooms - and totally delicious! I love this one. Simply pan fry it with salted butter (and a touch of garlic if you wish)




Here are Various Identifying Descriptions:



Porcini (Boletus edulis, the taxonomic name) is a highly regarded edible mushroom. It has a number of English names, including cep (from its Catalan name cep or its French name cèpe), king bolete and penny bun. A common term in current use is porcini. This mushroom has a distinct aroma reminiscent of fermented dough. The mushroom can grow singly or in clusters. Its habitat consists of areas dominated by oak, pine, spruce, and fir trees. Not limited to these locations, the King Bolete is also found in hardwood forests containing oaks. It fruits from summer to autumn.



* fungus colour: Brown

* normal size: over 15cm

* cap type: Convex to shield shaped

* stem type: Bulbous base of stem, Simple stem

* spore colour: Olivaceous






Brown cap often with a whitish bloom at first gradually lost on expanding leaving a white line at the margin, smooth and dry initially becoming greasy, in wet weather slightly viscid and polished. Stem 30–230 x 30–70(110)mm, robust, pallid with white net. Flesh white, unchanging, flushed dirty straw-colour or vinaceous in cap. Taste and smell pleasant. Tubes white becoming grey-yellow. Pores small and round, similarly coloured. Spore print olivaceous snuff-brown.




When you cut them lengthways - the insides remain white. the underside of the cap is always sponge like on a Cep. Large brown mushroom with pores (rather than gills) on the underside of the cap. Said to look like a penny bun.











The major difference between the boletes and gill fungi. is that in the boletes the basidia are located on the inner surface of numerous tubes, which are typically vertically arranged on the lower surface of the pileus (except in Gastroboletus). These tubes, or gills in the case of mushrooms, are commonly designated as the hymenophore, or the part of the basidiocarp bearing the hymenium. The hymenium, in turn, is a layer of rather closely packed basidia plus distinctive sterile cells called cystidia. Another difference noted in the field is that, although some mushrooms grow on logs or other woody substrates, only a few boletes are found consistently on such substrates, and most occur in the soil or humus in the vicinity of woody plants.



A thick stalked mushroom with a round cap.

Native to Europe and found growing wild beneath beech and coniferous trees, in summer and autumn.Brush or wipe clean, trim off the end of stalk. (Wash gently if very dirty). Do not peel. Often found in shops as dried version, add to warm water to allow to re-hydrate for around an hour, retain the liquid and add to dish. Add to soups, sauces, casseroles or omelettes, or sauté.







Types of Cep (Bolete)



Bronzy Bolete



King Bolete



Summer Bolete



Pinewood Bolete



Spindle Stemmed Bolete



Bay Bolete



Chestnut Bolete



Cow Bolete





Boletes to Avoid - Poisonous



Deceptive bolete



White Cracking Bolete



La Gals Bolete



Satans Bolete



Please note the above lists are not exhaustive. Always check first



Here is some further information about the Cep



Porcini (or King Boletus or Cep)

Boletus edulis



Boletes resemble ordinary mushrooms, but instead of gills have small round pores or tubes through which the spores are shed.



The King Boletus (taxonomic name Boletus edulis) is a highly prized edible mushroom. It has a number of English names, including cep (from its Catalan name cep or its French name cèpe), penny-bun and King Bolete. A name in common use is porcini (from the plural of its Italian name porcino). The scientific name derives from the Latin stem bolet-,

which means "superior mushroom" and edulis, meaning edible, and describes the species' culinary qualities. This mushroom has a higher water content than other edible mushrooms and has a distinct aroma reminiscent of fermented dough.



Boletus edulis can be found most commonly in Europe, Asia and North America. The Borgotaro area of Parma in Italy holds an Annual Festival of the Porcini. In South Africa it has been growing plentifully in pine forests around the country for more than 50 years, after being introduced with the pine trees, and has also been found in New Zealand.

The mushroom can grow singly or in small clusters of two or three specimens. It is common in woods (especially beech woods) in summer and autumn. Its habitat often consists of areas dominated by pine, spruce, Eastern hemlock and fir trees, but it is also found in hardwood forests containing oaks. It fruits from summer to autumn, following sustained rainfall. A hot humid summer induces growth. This mushroom can also be

found during the autumn in Syria and Lebanon where it grows in large clusters on decaying oak tree stumps.



The cap of this mushroom is convex, and 5–30 cm in diameter. At first, the cap is white then develops to mostly reddish-brown fading to white in areas near the margin; the colour continues to darken as it matures to a brown, smooth, moist, shining cap. The flesh is chalky white, often tinged with pink. Beneath is a spongy mass of vertical tubes, white at first, becoming yellowish-green, and eventually brown, in which the brown spores are

produced. These pores do not stain when bruised. The stalk is stout, pale brown, with a fine network of raised, white veins towards the top and is 8–25 cm in height, and up to 7 cm thick, which is rather large in comparison to the cap. Fully mature specimens can weigh about 1 kg. However, the most appreciated by gourmets are the young small porcini, which are dense and tan to pale brown in colour, as the large ones often

harbour insect larvae, and they become slimy, soft and less tasty with age.



Although the King Boletus is quite distinctive, caution is required when identifying it as the related species the Dotted-Stemmed Bolete (Boletus erythropus) which is found from later Summer to Early Autumn can cause stomach upsets, especially if eaten raw. The stem of this mushroom turns blue very quickly when bruised and the cap bruises to a black blue colour.



Chefs consider porcini to be one of the finest-tasting wild mushrooms. For centuries Ancient Greeks and Romans thought them to be the best of all edible mushrooms and even today many famous chefs continue to believe this to be true. Porcini mushrooms lacks aroma, but are well valued for their meaty texture, interesting flavour and distinguishing shape. The flavour is nutty, meaty, buttery, savoury, almost sweet, with

a smooth, creamy texture. When fresh, porcini can be eaten and enjoyed raw as well as fried, sautéed with butter, ground into pasta, in risotto, in soups, and served with veal

and game. They are a feature of many cuisines, including Provençal and Viennese. They can also be dried by stringing them separately on twine and hanging close to the ceiling of a kitchen for later use in casseroles and soups. Drying the porcini seems to accentuate its sweet and meaty overtones, reducing "l'eau du terre" (smell of the earth) that

distinguishes fresh boletes. Once dry, they are best kept in an airtight container. Drying them in the oven is not advised as it can result in them being cooked and spoiling. When reconstituted, the liquid retrieved from soaking them makes a perfect soup base, needing almost no additions.



Recipe for Porcini Parmesan (serves 4 to 6)



1-2 large, fresh, firm porcini mushrooms

225g sliced mozzarella cheese

50g cup grated Parmesan cheese

small onion finely chopped

olive oil

1 clove garlic, chopped

1 Tbsp minced parsley

Pinches of dried basil, marjoram, and oregano, or other Italian

seasonings

1 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon black pepper

660g can of tomato sauce

1 egg

60ml milk

bread crumbs - finely ground



Heat some olive oil in a large frypan. Add onions and garlic and sauté over low heat until onions are translucent. Stir in parsley, herbs, salt, pepper, and tomato sauce. Simmer for 30 minutes.



Slice the mushrooms into ½ cm thick slices. Remove the spongy area underneath the more solid cap of the mushroom. Beat the egg and milk together in a bowl. Dip the slices of mushroom into the egg mixture then dust with bread crumbs. Heat some olive oil in a large frypan to medium heat. Fry the porcini on both sides, adding more oil as needed, until golden brown. In a 2-quart baking dish, layer sauce, mushrooms, mozzarella, topping layers off with Parmesan cheese. Bake at 350° F for 1 hour.



Like many casserole style dishes this recipe tastes even better the following day, after the flavours are allowed to seep into the mushrooms. You may want to make it ahead of time and reheat it when you want to eat it. •Try to get permission if the land is private. Be VERY sure you are not over harvesting and check if the land is an SSSI. We have a massive problem these days of areas being denuded of wild food due to its popularity so we all have a collective responsibility to only take what we need adn if there are loads of pickers, move on to another area.




•Follow the country code. i.e: close gates, don't leave a mark, be quiet and respectful.

•Avoid moving dead wood around as it disturbes wildlife.

•Don't go trampling on delicate plants when trying to get to fungi.

•If you don't want to eat it, try to identify it in situation and do not pick it.

•Cut fungi at the base with a knife rather than rip them out of the ground. this limits damage to the fungi threads.

•Only collect a few from each troop - leave some for others and nature. Let's learn from the cod fishing industry experiences....





A last word about the legality of picking wild food - (this is mainly a rule in Wales but may cover the whole UK, it is best to know it anyway):



"Under common law it is not an offence to pick the “Four F’s”; fruit, foliage, fungi or flowers which are growing wild if they are for personal use and not for sale. This provision does not apply if the species in question is specially protected, say by listing in Schedule 8 of the Wildlife and Countryside Act. This means that anyone can pick blackberries, take ivy and holly for Christmas, gather sloes and pick mushrooms for themselves. However, this right can only be exercised where there is a legal right of access i.e. alongside public footpath or in a public place."



For a good round up of the general legal situation across Britain, see Truffle Trouble: Foraging law



Mushroom foraging equipment:





•A knife, ideally one with a hooked inward blade to make cutting the stem easier, similar to a pruning knife

•A brush to dust of any debris

•A basket or paper bags, never use plastic as they sweat and spoil. Ideally a wicket basket

•A walking stick, this is realy useful to move foliage back to save bending down when loooking under plants etc.

•A wide brimmed hat, helps the eye to focus and cuts down glare from morning sun

•A flask of tea ;-) foraging should be done at leisure and made enjoyable with time to asses the finds so far

•Mushroom field guides (usually more than one for reference)







Here is a video (it's Swiss but still has relevant info for the UK) on picking fungi:













You can help others yourself, why not post in the "forager" section and share your revent foraging trip stories.



View all articles on this site here:http://www.wildmushroomsonline.co.uk/all-category-list/

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Tuesday 21 September 2010

Hackney council=thieves

The rejuvenation of Broadway Market is one of the success stories of Hackney’s recent history. In the early noughties it was just another road of run-down shops that nobody wanted to walk along, let alone live on. But in the course of only a few years it became home to boutique bookshops, posh cafés and one of the best street markets in London.




Lurking beneath the surface of this apparently perfect tale of community-led regeneration, however, is a tragic injustice. Were it not for one man, Broadway Market would still be a dump – yet the success he created, and the subsequent rise in property prices, ultimately forced him out of his home and his livelihood.

If you go down to Broadway Market this Saturday, you might notice the image of a Rastafarian man decorating the cotton carrier bags for sale on the traders’ association stall. This peaceful face is 63-year-old local hero Lowell Grant, known by his friends simply as Spirit. It was he who single-handedly kick-started the street’s revival when he opened his shop, the Nutritious Food Gallery, in a previously derelict property in 1999.



Sadly, those bags are all you will see of Spirit in London Fields these days.



In 2001, Hackney Council auctioned off the freehold to his flat and his shop to a property company based in the Bahamas for £85,000 – despite the fact that Spirit, who as the long-term leaseholder had first option on the premises, had already delivered a cheque to buy it for £100,000. To his disbelief, the cheque was returned uncashed a few days after the auction with no explanation as to why it had not been accepted.



Spirit’s rent soon rose by 1,200 per cent. He initially refused to pay, but even after later covering most of his arrears, he was eventually evicted in October 2008.



Last Friday, to the disappointment of the market community, he lost his latest appeal against his eviction at the High Court.



The Hackney Post caught up with Spirit a few days later in the place he now calls home, a small, musky flat in Stamford Hill. He had spent his whole life in Hackney since arriving from Jamaica in 1964, but after his eviction was unable to find another place to live in the borough.



Andrew Boff, the former Tory councillor who has closely supported Spirit’s fight since 2004, describes him as a “true gentleman”. He is not wrong: Spirit could hardly be more warm and welcoming. But contemplating the injustice of his fate – which he describes as a “lynching” – the depth of his anger at the council soon begins to show.



“They used me to build that place under their so-called regeneration project, but they didn’t want people like me there,” says Spirit, smoking a roll-up.



“I was blindfolded and taken to the gallows, that’s the way they treated me.”

SPURS hall of fame

On March 25, 1918, on the Somme in France, a British second lieutenant named Walter Tull led his men in an assault on a German trench. He died in No Man's Land. "A machine-gun bullet pierced his neck and came out just beneath his right eye," a newspaper later reported.



Tull's men tried to bring his body back to the trenches, and one dragged it hundreds of yards, but finally had to leave him behind. The body was lost, and Tull has no marked grave. Today he stares out at us from beneath a peaked cap in an army photograph: an elegant light-skinned man with an Errol Flynn moustache. He was forgotten for nearly 80 years until being discovered by Phil Vasili, the historian of black football.



For Tull was not merely the first British-born black army officer. He also marked football, as Britain's - and possibly the world's - first black professional outfield player. (Arthur Wharton, a goalkeeper with Preston who held a world record for the hundred metres sprint, had been the first black pro.)





Certainly the press routinely called Tull a 'darkie'. On the other hand, in that lilywhite Britain he may have been perceived more as curiosity than threat.In recent years Tull has been rehabilitated. Various monuments to him have been proposed to add to the Walter Tull memorial garden outside Northampton Town's ground, and he is now taught in British schools. (A sample, half-witted question set for pupils: "How many matches did Walter Tull play for Northampton Football Club?")






He was born in Folkestone in 1888, the grandson of a slave, and son of a Barbadian carpenter and a white English mother. His mother died when was seven, his father two years later. Tull's stepmother, landed with six children, sent Walter and his brother Edward to a Methodist orphanage in Bethnal Green, London. Edward left the orphanage after two years, adopted by a Scottish family. He would become a dentist.







Tottenham Hotspur, 1909



Tull's men tried to bring his body back to the trenches, and one dragged it hundreds of yards, but finally had to leave him behind. The body was lost, and Tull has no marked grave. Today he stares out at us from beneath a peaked cap in an army photograph: an elegant light-skinned man with an Errol Flynn moustache. He was forgotten for nearly 80 years until being discovered by Phil Vasili, the historian of black football.



For Tull was not merely the first British-born black army officer. He also marked football, as Britain's - and possibly the world's - first black professional outfield player. (Arthur Wharton, a goalkeeper with Preston who held a world record for the hundred metres sprint, had been the first black pro.)





Certainly the press routinely called Tull a 'darkie'. On the other hand, in that lilywhite Britain he may have been perceived more as curiosity than threat.In recent years Tull has been rehabilitated. Various monuments to him have been proposed to add to the Walter Tull memorial garden outside Northampton Town's ground, and he is now taught in British schools. (A sample, half-witted question set for pupils: "How many matches did Walter Tull play for Northampton Football Club?")






He was born in Folkestone in 1888, the grandson of a slave, and son of a Barbadian carpenter and a white English mother. His mother died when was seven, his father two years later. Tull's stepmother, landed with six children, sent Walter and his brother Edward to a Methodist orphanage in Bethnal Green, London. Edward left the orphanage after two years, adopted by a Scottish family. He would become a dentist.

Monday 20 September 2010

pubs west ham

Pub Guides


West Ham

"East London will never forgive

All my wrongdoings

But still it's the place where I live"



Hefner - 'Painting and Kissing'



The first pub guide I ever did was for our trip to High Wycombe at the start of the 1999/2000 season, and, apart from one or two blips, I've been doing them since. But this one's a bit special. Here's a game close to home. You see, I live in East London, and waited from 1996 to 2003 for Burnley to play in this particular, distinct part of the capital. Millwall, occasionally Charlton, have tended to provide the shortest trip of the season, but that's so South of the River. Oh sure, when I misguidedly lived in Sarf London I would go and watch us lose at Leyton Orient, but in recent times, nuffink. But who'd have thought it would be West Ham rather than the Os to provide our East London opposition? Such a state of affairs could only have been brought about by the hapless Glenn Roeder.



Always capitalise. East London is different to the rest of London. It's its own place. We're not like the rest, and be sure to have your passport for inspection at Aldgate East. If such a thing exists, this is still, just about, real London. True, there's some erosion as gentrification, having exhausted most corners of this city, finally begins to crawl east and north, from Shoreditch to Spitalfields and even into dear old Hackney. In parts artistic wankers abound. It all started with the City's invasion of the Isle of Dogs, where in rebranded Docklands the City and real London continue to sit uneasily side by side under the intrusive shadow of Canary Wharf. Meanwhile the Square Mile creeps slowly Eastwards, throwing up intriguing contrasts between pin-striped luxury and the squalor across the street.



Yet still the essence of East London remains. East London, more than any other part of this city, is where you'll find tradition, innovation, dynamism, poverty, brashness and attitude - all the things that make London brilliant and dreadful - along with every skin colour and language under the sun. East London is international yet local. This is traditionally the place that the immigrants come to. When they make it, they move out to more aspirational suburbs, and the next wave of the poor comes in. So these days it's the Kosovans rather than the Bengalis who deliver your pizza. But though the markets and the pubs still matter, and folk still go down the dogs, while the local jellied eel shop (urgh!) has a queue of hungry punters every Saturday, it isn't quite EastEnders. You see, not only might you not know your neighbour, but you may not speak their language. Oh, and we all have our own washing machines. So welcome to my manor.



Alas, I'd be the first person to admit that East London is not the best place to get a drink in this city. It isn't quite as grim for ale as Norf London, but I concede that the best places for London beer are the virtual foreign countries of West and South West London. That section - the posh bit - is where London's stalwart independent breweries, Fuller's and Young's, reside, after all. It was depressing in compiling this guide to note how often I used the word Wetherspoon's. Lord knows I'm not the biggest fan of this chain of compromise, but round here they tend to act as real ale oases, and must be used as such. But I never realised how much of my money I gave them until now. The area around the Boleyn Ground - points off if you think it's called Upton Park - is particularly poor. People drink lager round here. Also bear in mind that West Ham have sizeable support. There will be lots of them and you can expect nearby pubs to be very busy. As I tend not to drink round these parts on Saturday afternoons - I'm normally somewhere else - I have no idea whether pubs I'm familiar with will be swamped by hordes borrowing our colours. And then the friendliness or otherwise of the welcome is something else you might have to think about.



Prudence therefore suggests that you give the area immediately around the ground a miss and concentrate your drinking on zones within easy travelling distance. The nearest tube stop for the ground is Upton Park, which is on the District Line (the green one). If you're coming from central London your best bet will be a zones one to four Travelcard, which will give you unlimited travel between the centre and the ground on tube, rail and bus. The possibility then opens up of drinking somewhere close to a stop along the tube line before making your merry way to the match. Also worth knowing about is that the interchange with the Central Line (the red one) at Mile End is particularly straightforward, being a matter of crossing the platform, bringing stops along that route into the equation. You can probably get buses as well, but I'm not getting into that here.



One other transport issue worth knowing about is that it is very hard to get into Upton Park tube after the game. Everyone else is trying to do it at the same time, and there will be a queue and potentially a substantial wait. This can be averted by making the longer walk to the stop before, East Ham. You pays your money and makes your choice.



I'm assuming for the following that you are in possession of an essential copy of the London A-Z, without which you are going to get lost. This neatly absolves me of the responsibility to give detailed directions.



One option strategically placed near Mile End tube (come out, turn right, cross the road and carry on until you get to Coburn Road) is the Coburn Arms. This is a thoroughly pleasant Young's pub. I noticed on my last visit that even this area was getting a bit more upmarket (even Bow!) and Mile End Road was considerably cleaner than it used to be, so be warned that there is a danger of encountering a member of the middle classes in this pub, but still the beer is good. From here it's a ride of a few stops to Upton Park tube. Bow Road tube, also on the District Line, is equally close if you carry on down Mile End Road.



A Central Line stop before is Bethnal Green. I've been in the Wetherspoon's pub here, the Camden's Head on Bethnal Green Road, a few times. Not particularly nice or clean, and I always have the feeling that I am the only person in there without (a) a tattoo and (b) a criminal record. It also feels strange to step from a black street into a white pub. Preferable is the Approach Tavern on Approach Road. Again, there is this curious mix of working- and middle-class customers. True, there is an art gallery attached to the pub, but then the Ministry of Ale in Burnley has exhibitions and no one can accuse them of being pretentious. If you do visit and if you're a man, be sure to take a leak, as the urinals are particularly fine examples of the chunky white porcelain ones made by Ducketts, of Burnley. The gents, at least, are an East Lancashire corner of East London. You're likely to be filling your Ducketts with recycled Adnams, by the way.



The Central Line also gives you the option of the City, although on a weekend most pubs around these parts will be shut. The Wetherspoon's on Liverpool Street station, the Hamilton Hall, is perhaps a strategic starting point, as it's open all available hours. It's not the greatest of pubs, but against the low standards of station bars it's not bad. Across the road there's Young's to be had in Dirty Dicks, although I suspect not on a Saturday.



While in the Liverpool Street area, particularly if it's after the match, you could do worse than observe another East London ritual, and go for a Brick Lane curry. Okay, Brick Lane is now on the tourist circuit under the 'Bangla Town' branding and there are frankly better places to get curry, but a walk down Brick Lane's endless rank of curry houses as you dodge the waiters hustling for business is all part of the experience. All the street signs round here are in Bengali as well as English, something I can't see catching on in Burnley. Where you'll eat is down to pot luck. Choose between the traditional kind of popadom and Kingfisher places or the new upmarket boutique restaurants between which the street now seems pretty evenly divided. But you don't need to take pot luck on the beer. Around the halfway mark look out for Heneage Street, slightly hidden on your right as you walk up Brick Lane. Tucked away here is the very wonderful Pride of Spitalfields, an ever-busy, small and friendly pub, where you'll usually get something from the excellent Crouch Vale brewery as well as Fuller's London Pride.



The Central Line runs through the heart of London - hence the name - and in doing so takes in what is for my money London's best drinking area, Bloomsbury and Holborn. Alighting at Holborn tube will take you to, in short measure, the following pubs: the Cittie of York, a many-roomed stone-flagged former coffee house selling Sam Smith's that is cheap for the area, on High Holborn; the Red Lion, a small and friendly Greene King pub, and Penderel's Oak, one of the best of the Wetherspoon's, both also on High Holborn; just off on Dane Street, Overdraughts, a quiet and relaxed bar; and on Sandland Street a Badger pub, Old Nick's; just along on Red Lion Street, the Dolphin, a startlingly normal pub with sharp service and Young's on offer; across Theobald's Road on Lamb's Conduit Street, the venerable Young's house of the Lamb, probably the London pub I've drunk in more than any other; and around the corner on Great James Street, the Rugby Tavern, for some Shepherd Neame. It's amazing that within a small space there are all these good pubs selling a variety of beer, and yet this is consistently underrated and under-used as a drinking quarter. Recommended for day-trippers to London, the only possible snag is that what is open at weekends is rather hit and miss.



Alternatively you could aim for the other side of Mile End. There are some decent drinking options around the Stratford and Leyton areas. From here you can get the Jubilee Line (tube - grey) or North London Line (train) down to West Ham and then the District Line two stops to Upton Park. Stratford has one or two decent pubs - although only one or two. The local Wetherspoon's is one of the better ones. That's the Golden Grove on Grove Lane, a short walk from the fancy new tube and bus stations. Money has certainly been spent on Stratford these past years. Anyway, it's a big pub selling a good range - and it's usually busy. The Theatre Royal Bar, more or less across the road from here, is open to non theatre-goers, and used to serve a pint from Charles Wells, as well as a good range of Sam Smith's bottles, but I've not been in since they re-opened after a long spell of refurbishment, so don't quote me on that. Over on Broadway, right in the Centre, you have the King Edward VII. Not a bad pub, bit studenty, beer a bit on the cold side when I last called in.



Down in Forest Gate - you're talking train rather than tube, or a frequent bus from Stratford - there's an unlikely pub on - aha! - Upton Lane. The Spotted Dog is a bit of a trek out, but it's a curious, weatherboarded place, which apparently in some way goes back to Henry VIII's day, or so I read somewhere. I seem to remember drinking Charles Wells Bombardier last time I was in here, which is not to be sniffed at. They also have an attached restaurant. Clapton FC's ground is next door. It's called the Old Spotted Dog Ground. For a stop on your way out there's yet another Wetherspoon's, the Hudson Bay, at the start of Upton Lane.



Carry on down this road and eventually you'll come to Plaistow, which is very West Ham territory. In fact you'd have skirted Upton to your left and West Ham to your right before you hit Plaistow High Street. The Black Lion is another one of those unlikely survivors, an old coaching inn that also curiously hosts a boxing club. Dick Turpin used to drink here, apparently. I bet it will be thronged when West Ham are at home.



While we're doing close to the ground, the Miller's Well on Barking Road in East Ham is the local Wetherspoon's, and will doubtless be very busy.



Or you could go to Leyton as well as Stratford, one stop further on the Central Line. Here's one patch of East London that surely will never be gentrified. Round the back of Leyton tube and past the ever-evocative Catholic cemetery is a true gem, the Birkbeck Tavern, on Langthorne Road. This is a big square pub and a proper locals' place, but the welcome is friendly and they'll always have two or three beers on - one of which you can guarantee will be something interesting from a small brewery. They also have a jolly nice beer garden. In addition there are also a couple of sound options up in the Baker's Arms area where Leyton High Road and Walthamstow's Hoe Street meet the neverending Lea Bridge Road. As long as you avoid the Baker's Arms itself, you'll be alright. The William IV has for as long as I can remember had a sign outside saying it's a wine bar. Don't be put off either by this or the abundance of external floral decoration - it's definitely a pub. It's one of those deceptive pubs that, once in, reveals itself to be bigger than you'd ever expected. As well as being a nice pub, this is also home to East London's only brewery, the Sweet William microbrewery. Not all of the range seems to be available at any one time, but you should get one of the bitters - Just William, E10 Red, or William the Conqueror - and, if you're lucky, the very drinkable East London Mild. Then just a few steps down Lea Bridge Road you'll come to the Drum, a Wetherspoon's pub, but an untypical one. Unlike the hangars they normally occupy, this place is small and feels like a proper pub. The beer range is excellent, and it's generally in peak condition.



Another option, going east beyond Upton Park tube, is Barking, where there are one or two drinking possibilities. The local Wetherspoon's, by the station, is the Barking Dog, which I seem to recall being pretty reasonable, if on the rough side, and certainly better than the adjacent Spotted Dog, which sold overpriced Courage. Also around here, on Church Road, is a splendid distant outpost of the Young's Empire, the Britannia.



And so ends our whistlestop tour of East London. Leave some beer for me, won't you?



Firmo

charlton

great tops

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Wednesday 15 September 2010

toms

A natural ingredient found in tomato seeds has been identified by British scientists as a key component to a long and healthy life.




The gel prevents the blood from becoming sticky and clotting and so is being promoted as a natural alternative to aspirin.

It was discovered by food researchers investigating the benefits of a Mediterranean diet.



Patented as Fruitflow, it is already being used in one fruit juice product and is now expected to be added to dairy drinks, spreads and other foods.

EU health watchdogs have accepted thatthe ingredient does improve blood flow and have approved the use of such claims on packaging.

Fruitflow was discovered in 1999 by Professor Asim Dutta-Roy at the Rowett Institute in Aberdeen.

It is derived from the gel around tomato seeds. Clinical trials have shown it can help maintain a healthy blood circulation by preventing the clumping of blood platelets which can lead to clots.

Both Fruitflow and aspirin work by changing the characteristics of platelets, which are tiny cells in the blood. Normally they are smooth, but inflammation in the blood vessels - linked to smoking, high cholesterol and stress - causes them to become spiky and so stick together, forming clots.

Aspirin strongly blocks one set of signals that causes this to happen. Fruitflow more gently damps down three others, enough to reduce the risk of clotting.





Currently, millions of older people take small doses of aspirin daily to improve blood flow.



However this can have unwelcome side effects such as bleeding in the stomach and the creation of ulcers. Professor-Dutta-Roy said: 'To date, no side effects have been demonstrated during the development of Fruitflow.'

Research shows that a smoother blood flow can be seen within three hours of taking Fruitflow and the results can last up to 18 hours, making it ideal for daily consumption.

The gel, which is colourless and tasteless, is extracted from tomato seeds and can then be added to a range of foods without changing their characteristics.



It is currently added to Sirco, a range of 100 per cent pure fruit juices available from Waitrose, Ocado and some health food shops.







Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1237652/Secret-healthy-life-Try-tomato-seeds.html#ixzz0zc6jIuzs

Monday 13 September 2010

land

Land Auctions


How to buy from land auctions in the UK. The land that is offered for sale at auction tends to be large agricultural properties although smaller lots do sometimes become available. Land auctions are competitively priced as they create a free and fair competition among interested bidders but it is worth remembering that the overriding principal governing any auction is one of caveat emptor – let the buyer beware! Auctions are often seen by sellers as a way to dispose of difficult pieces of land that have failed to sell through more conventional means and once the auctioneers hammer has fallen the successful bidder is deemed to have entered into a contract. They are then legally bound to pay the final sale price (usually 10% of the price on the day of the auction with the remaining 90% being payable 28 days later).



It is therefore wise to take the time to view the property and have all necessary surveys carried out well before the auction date. This is not always easy as the auction catalogue may only be published a few weeks before the auction but you should never feel pressured into bidding for a lot before you have satisfied yourself that it is suitable for your purposes.



The auctioneer’s catalogue provides a description of each property, details on how to arrange a viewing and the General Conditions of Sale. The auctioneer prepares the Conditions, stating the basis on which the auction will be carried out. The Conditions should be read thoroughly prior to the auction as they set out how and when the successful bidder will have to pay the final sale price and will also give details of any additional fees that might be payable.



The catalogue will also include a guide price for each lot. This is ostensibly an indication of the price that each property is expected obtain. In reality the guide price may be set unrealistically low in order to stimulate interest in a lot or be set too high to create the impression that the property is worth more than its true value. It is always best to arrive at your own valuation of the land well before the auction and then stick to it. May people find it all too easy to be caught up in the excitement of the auction and end up bidding more than they really think the land is worth.



As with any land purchase it is wise to consult a solicitor prior to buying land at auction. Provide your solicitor with the auction details and the auction brochure along with any additional information you have. The auctioneer (or the vendor’s solicitor) will be able to provide your solicitor with a legal pack containing documents pertinent to the lot you are interested in. There is sometimes a charge made for the provision of the pack but a thorough examination of the relevant legal documents is essential if you are going to be able to buy with confidence.



Buy wisely and you could save money, but it is not without risk.

BRITISH CLOTHES

FROM MENS FASHION . A good Blog


"On the 4th September Jermyn Street, London’s shoe-and-shirt mecca, was closed to traffic. However, this was no ordinary inconvenience. The entire street had been taken over for the celebration of a particular Art; the Art of Being British. Many of the street’s retailers had set up stalls exhibiting their trade, trumpeting British values of quality. The Ritz Hotel


occupied a large part of the Western end with their British chef creating and instructing on fine British cuisine and the Rivoli’s head bartender demonstrating the art of mixing a Ritz cocktail whilst their hotel car, a Rolls-Royce Phantom, boomed out ‘A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square’, a song which appropriately identifies celestial bodies as hotel diners.



A bandstand was set up by the statue of Beau Brummell at the entrance to the Piccadilly Arcade and musicians from the Royal Academy of Music (where else?) entertained the watching crowds with nostalgic and sprightly tunes. Paxton & Whitfield, proudly the smelliest shop in London, organised a slightly Wodehousian ‘Guess the weight of the cheddar’ competition; Barkers demonstrated the art of creating a shoe cutting and sewing leather in front of a silent audience; the Cavendish hotel organised a street-served hog roast which was so popular the queue snaked down the street in not one but two directions and a catwalk was set up in the middle of the street showing ensembles from the likes of TM Lewin, Beretta, Favourbrook, Daks and Hawes & Curtis.



Elsewhere along the street, Morgan cars gleamed in the September sunshine, Lewin’s attracted shoppers in to see their working seamstress and The St James Hotel served up some complimentary out-of-season Pimms. It was in confection as British as an imagination would dare and, acknowledging the special occasion, some of the crowd had taken the opportunity to exhibit their Art of being British. I say ‘being British’, when in fact I mean ‘acting British’; most of the fantastically, elegantly and colourfully dressed gentlemen there were not British at all yet they chose to mark the day in particularly British ensembles; tweed suits, fedoras, bow ties and even bowler hats. I heard Italian, American, Spanish and French visitors enjoying their promenade on this special day, attired in beautiful British classics. My fellow countrymen were largely anonymous.



You see, the trouble with the British is most of them are trying to be something else. They want to be Italian, or American or French. They’re either not comfortable with their nationality, or they secretly believe the grass is greener. Admittedly, the effect can be repeated elsewhere – Milan is full of men who see British tailoring as the pinnacle of elegance. But despite all the apparent British nationalism, our connection with Britishness, all the stuff that Jermyn Street was celebrating – that oaky, tweedy, burnished state of being - has become a museum in itself. Our citizens wander around in this world with a passive unconcern that suggests it no longer exists. Whereas those looking in on Britain see such things as worthy of protection and celebration, the curious Brits who peer in through the windows seemed to have lost all association with that world."

Friday 10 September 2010

SUBBUTEO Hullbridge where ? The teen years.









Finsbury Park

Hullbridge where ? The teen years.  THIS is a piece of blogging I found on the internet . Just copy the title then Google


"My sister (Debra) and I were born in Finsbury Park, London N5 where we lived in a very close-knit community. Many of my parents's family lived either in the same road as us or just around the corner, which was very typical in families in the 1950's. Other families had also moved into the roads the same time as my mum and dad's relations so everyone knew each other very well. It was a regular occurrence to pop in with a Cooee! instead of knocking, or ringing a doorbell as doors where never locked and we all trusted each other. The Infant and Primary School were within throwing distance of where w lived a was the pub, sweet shops and grocers.




At that time London was not a healthy place to live. I was constantly going down with bronchitis due to the dampness in our house we were renting and London was also plagued with Smogs. With these things in mind mum and dad decided we would all have a better and healthier life if we moved out of London and into the countryside. From an educational point of view this would be a very important change for me as I was 10 years old and about to take my 11+. Debra had just started primary school so the impact on her schooling would not be so great. mum would have to give up her local job and find a new one near to where we moved to. It also meant that mum would have to find a new job when we moved and dad would have a real commute to his job in London. We would not have family to immediately call upon should something go wrong. Not forgetting the fact that mum and dad would have to borrow a significant sum of money to buy the home and move. Obviously this was a huge life changing decision!



My dad's job, sampling imported and exported cereals, meant he had to travel around the country. During his travels he visited this area at Rochford and Battlesbridge Mills. One of his colleagues, Mr. Newsom, lived in 6, Abbey Close, Hullbridge and he encouraged my dad to take a look at some houses being built down the road from him in Abbey Road.



At that time Abbey Road was divided into two parts with the division occurring by the sub station at the north end and the other near Monksford Drive at the south end. Mum and dad purchased the first house built on the estate, No.56, a semi-detached next to the builders yard which also had on it the Electricity sub station. The estate was a set of 5 semi's and one detached. Among the families moving into the new houses were :- No. 54 Doris and Fred Hart, 52 Rose and John Murphy, 50 Lou,Mick, Susan and Patsy MacNamara, 43, Beryl,Brian and Alan Morris.



Before we moved in we all came down to see our new house. At the time it was half built and the gardens were just mud, but even so I envisage my football pitch and I knew which bedroom I wanted. I could not wait to move in. Whilst we were there we spent some time driving around the village looking at the River, Church and where were are going to school and most importantly the Recreation Ground. When we returned to Abbey Road I thought the bungalow on the right corner of Abbey Road and Ferry Road looked very familiar.
 Back home in London one of my closest friends was Christopher Able-Harry who was the son of Gladys Brown the sister of Arthur and Rene Watkins nee Brown, who ran a fruit and veg., stall in Tollington Road, N5. Chris's relations decided they were going for a trip Strawberry picking and he invited me along. We all bundled into their Bedford van with Chris and I in the back where the fruit and veg., were normally kept. We finished Strawberry picking and on the way home we called in to visit one of Rene's relations. The husband of the relation had a wonderful train set laid out in his attic and Chris and I spent our time playing with it whilst the adults sat downstairs talking. It turned out that this bungalow was the one on the corner of Abbey and Ferry Roads which is why it was familiar.



We made the move in the summer of 1964 and my sister and I had started school at Hullbridge Primary. After a couple of days, mum saw the local milkman making his deliveries (Howards Dairies) an signed up to receive bottles of milk daily. My parents had registered us with Dr Kendall (Mr) whose surgery was at his home No.149 Ferry Road. The room at the front of his house on the right hand side was his surgery and Mr's Kendall had just qualified as a doctor.



A few days into the first week at school mum was called by a friend Iris Frewin who lived in Monksford Drive and who worked in the kitchen at the school. Iris told her that Debra had been taken very ill. Mum went to the school and picked her up and took her back home. She called the doctor and we were visited straight away by Mrs Kendall who diagnosed Debra as having acute appendicitis. She called an ambulance and she was taken to Rochford Hospital where she was rushed into the operating theater and her appendix was removed. The doctors told mum that if there had been any delay it would have been extremely serious. What a start !





Within a few days of moving in I met and became friends with Peter Botley who lived opposite Mr Newsom at 5 Abbey Close. Peter was a great friend and had an attractive elder sister, Barbara who loved the Beatles music, as did Peter. I at this time loved the Monkees and thought the Beatles were old hat, so we had several debates over who was better than who or what track was better. Peter's dad worked for H.M.Custom and Excise in Southend and his mum always made me feel extremely welcome when I visited. In the family's front room they had a snooker table that also was a dinning table. Peter was a dab hand at playing on it. When we first started he would leave the cue ball in a place where I found it hard to cue because we were near to a wall. One day when we had got fed up playing billiards Peter introduced me to Subbuteo table football and later on table cricket.







The football players were made of cardboard with plastic bottoms and Peter had netted goals and footballs just smaller than a table tennis ball. To play you had to flick the player using your index finger only. We used to play Subbuteo on the snooker table whilst listening to Beatles albums. I loved it and soon had it on my birthday wish list. Peter and I spent many rainy days playing Subbuteo and later on Dave Carter, Jeff and I started our own league.






Our Subbuteo league consisted of Dave, Jeff and I having three teams each. Mine were Nottingham Forest, Arsenal and Crystal Palace, Dave had West Ham, Q.P.R and Leeds, Jeff had Tottenham, ?, ?. We had to play our home games at our homes, for Dave and Jeff we played in their bedrooms whilst I preferred to play in the living room. Because there were matches between our own teams we would each own one of the others teams. The team I supported then was Nottingham Forest because my football idol Joe Baker had transferred to them from Arsenal so mine was Forest. To play we would place a baize pitch on the floor and crawl around it. There were many times when in a rush to get round to the other side of the pitch we would put a knee on a player or goal and break it, so our players started getting shorter and shorter. Our parents tolerated us but started moaning when we started wearing out the knees of our trousers and making the carpet worn. The game improved when the cardboard players were replaced with plastic ones and we had smaller footballs, diving goalkeepers and round posted goals.



Peter and I occasionally played Subbuteo cricket. The cricket players were more sophisticated in design than his footballers. There were:-

The fielders: A figure stuck to a thin square green plastic base that had a small indentation to trap the ball.

The bowler: A figure stuck on a base similar to the footballers but it had a small Copper triangle at the back in which the ball was placed. The ball was bowled by flicking the bowler at the back thereby propelling the ball through the air towards a set of stumps.

The batsmen: This was a figure that was placed near the stumps but the true batsman was a cricket bat stuck into a plastic base attached to a twizzle stick.



On non rainy days Peter and I would often play football in my back garden, his garden had a rockery in the middle, not ideal for football but great for playing with little Airfix soldiers and Action Men! Our goals were sunbeds laid on their sides and the rules were that you could only touch the ball once. Unfortunately the ball kept going over into our neighbour's garden (Doris and Fred). At first we used to knock, apologize and ask for our ball back, but we soon got fed up with that and instead became bold and using a our coal bunker which was handily placed near to the dividing fence, we would clamber over and recover the ball. We eventually got fed up feeling guilty and so we changed the rules to allow two touches and later on dribbling. Peter was a very good goalkeeper and he, like me, did not like losing so we had many fall outs.



I loved playing in the nearby fields and would often go exploring with my friends down various footpaths, roads etc., Watery Lane was where I went with various of my girl friends and when my cousin came down one weekend I just had to show her where we played. At this time the concrete piping was being put in place at the beginning and down Watery Lane and we could clamber through them and along the newly cleared ditches. We took Debra with us and was having a great time when Debbie stood up too early when she was leaving one of the concrete pipes and cracked her head on the lip, there was blood everywhere. For a moment I thought "What has she done, so much blood,now I'm for it, what do I tell Mum ?" then I realized I had to get Mum and Dad because Debbie was going nowhere. I asked Marilyn to stay with Debbie so I could run home. I ran non stop from the humpback bridge to home and got them to drive down to pick Marilyn and Debbie up. When they arrived home I was relieved to be told she would not need stitches and that it was just a small cut. THANK YOU!



When I first came to the village I did not have a bike so this was also on my birthday wish list. I believe it was my Grandparents who bought this for me from a cycle shop in Tunbridge Road, Southend which was situated behind the bowling club on Victoria Avenue. It was a Rayleigh 26" green 5 speed road bike. It was kept in our garage and always being used. Peter and I used to cycle all over the village especially near the river. We loved riding along the riverbank footpath to the Rec., or Brandy Hole and then race back along Pooles Lane. Riding along the riverbanks at speed required skill and dexterity and to start with a lot of nerve. The path was very narrow, muddy and with deep holes there were also not many places for overtaking, the only places I can remember were when we reached the parts in the two caravan sites we went through. Once we got to the Rec we had to encounter a steep slope to get off the wall. At the bottom of the Rec were the swings, roundabout slide and later on a metal climbing frame made of scaffolding poles.



Around Hullbridge were many thickets in which we used to play. One in particular was between Grasmere and The Drive and it was mostly Hawthorn, Brambles and other nasty prickly plants. We made a single hidden path to a clearing in the middle so we had a place to hide from other kids or irate adults! We also had a small store of fizzy drinks and sweets hidden there. Alongside the thicket was a muddy path , which is still there today. Along this were several tall trees in which crows would nest. When we walked up the path the noise from the crows was quite deafening and I would imagine the villagers living nearby were only too pleased when the trees were lopped and our thicket was cleared to make way for the houses that are there today. Another favourite playing area and one we visited often as Scouts was the thickets off Kingsway. Its close proximity to the Fish and Chip Shop allowed us to get some chips on the way there and then on the way back. We did like our chips and Banana or Pineapple fritters!!!.



Dave Jeff and I could often be found down the Rec playing football and we met and became friends with George and Glen Low and Gary Hawkes. George and Glen were older than us and lived up Malyons Lane on the right just before the turning for Elm Grove. Gary lived with his parents in Ferry Road. Glen and George both used to cycle everywhere and were extremely fit. All three loved to dribble the ball and George packed a mighty shot, however Dave, Jeff and I would always pass to each other and so more often than not would beat them.



It was Glen and George that got me swimming in the river Crouch. We used to go in just before where Alfreda Avenue joins the Esplanade. There was an old corrugated shelter just below the river bank and it was here that we would change into our swimming costumes and clamber in trying to avoid the swans which would often be near us thinking they were going to be fed. I had not gone swimming in the river before because I had been told how dangerous it was. The current was pretty strong but I obviously managed, to the point that I could swim across to the other side where we would go "Dyke jumping". This was running across mud flats and jumping over the small and sometimes not so small little streams cutting there way through the banks.



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"In 1974 I fell in love with my now wife Maggie and I moved away from the village and into St Johns Wood

Hullbridge Primary School when I joined had a Weeping Willow tree and a flag pole in front of the old school building which consisted of two classrooms,one at either end and an assembly hall in the middle which sometimes doubled up as another classroom / dinning room. The kitchen was at the far left and the cloakroom at the far right. The school had two entrances one from the right side which led directly into the cloakroom which led in turn into the assembly hall or to the left to our classroom with Mr Rose. The cloakroom and our classroom no longer exist, they were recently knocked down to provide access to the most recent addition. The other entrance was at the back near the kitchen. There was a small flight of steps by this door with a metal handrail. It was this door that we used to get in and out when we where there with the Scouts. Behind the old school was the playground and two other blocks of the school. The nearest ran at right angles to the old school on the right hand side. it was mainly wooden in construction with a pitch roof and large windows. As a result of which in the winter it was freezing cold an in the summer very hot in class. It contained two classrooms with the entrance being in between the classes. As you went through the entrance the doors to the classes were immediately left and right and in front was a cloakroom. This also has recently been demolished. The other block was made of brick with a flat roof and ran parallel to the old school and was similar in size. The entrance was to the left and led straight into the cloakroom. The classes were to the right and the end classroom had a large expanse of glass that overlooked the orchard next door. I think this was initially the infant school. Behind this was the school playing field with our football pitch. Either side of the school were fields in which we was fields with the one on the left being an apple orchard where we often would go scrumping.




The school's Headmaster was Mr Hardy who lived in the school house that was situated next door on the left of the old school.



The school pupils were placed into teams to promote competition and I was put into Crouch, the others were Roach and ? Other teachers there were Mr's Longthorn who disciplined with a ruler, Mr Hardy our Headmaster who used a slipper as did our sports master Mr John Thayer. John later went on to purchase and run his own school, Crowstone in Sutton Road, Southend-on-Sea.



Schooling in Hullbridge was very enjoyable and although I consider I had a good education in London the curriculum in Hullbridge was very different and I failed to pass my 11+ exam. This meant I could not go to Sweyne school in London Road,Rayleigh with one of my best friends David Carter I had to go to Hockley Secondary school in Hockley. Before we started senior school my other best friend Jeff Livesey emigrated to Australia.



I think during that summer Hullbridge Primary school was developed with a raised swimming pool being built behind the two brick built classrooms and the field on the left was cleared and a new school built there. The new school had a large assembly hall in which later Jeff, David and I would learn to play table tennis and where the Girl Guides would hold their meetings and the Parents Teachers Association would hold their numerous and successful dances to raise funds. It was through these dances that families would get to know and become very good friends with other parents. These same families were also to become Jeff and I's great friends at Hullbridge Sports.