First poach the apples. Today it worked liked this: along the creek where we took a walk there are various wild fruit trees including pear, quince and in larger numbers apples. I don’t know who they belong to, I assume the farmers who own the fields bordering the creek. We filled our pockets with the apples.
Back at home we got the roast ready. You can roast whatever you have. We had ground beef so I made a meatloaf by chopping up some old bread, adding milk and an egg to it, as well as salt, pepper, garlic, mint, and a little sage. And the ground beef. I put that in a roasting pan and added the apples (cored and wormed but not peeled) and some sweet potatoes (peeled and quartered). I had planned to add potatoes but the potatoes had gone bad. Some were rotten, one was green and a couple had an attitude. Chopped up a couple small onions, added a little vegetable broth and a little dry white wine. Put the pan into the oven for an hour at 200 degrees celsius.
In the last few minutes I added a few sage leaves I had forgotten to add earlier.
Then we ate it. It made six portions, so we ate one portion each (there were three of us) and I packed 3 portions for later.
Tag Archives: creek
Roast something with poached apples, a recipe
News from the crick
I went walking along the creek this morning because my shin and ankle hurt too much for me to run. The creek is high and muddy from the rain we’ve had (most excellent thunderstorm night before last) and there was a pair of swans. Then I saw a beaver swimming downstream. I jogged a little to catch up with him, then walked parallel with him for a while. This irritated the beaver and it dove and came up further downstream, and nearer the far bank. As we got closer to the swans, I saw that they had 6 cygnets and they saw us (noticing first me, then the beaver). One headed downstream with their young and the other swam first in my direction, then towards the beaver when it noticed him. The beaver dove again and resurfaced down stream from the swans and we all relaxed.
It was tense there for a minute.
Then I walked back home, where I picked some lettuce for the tortoise, and noticed that a horde of slugs had discovered our lettuce. They prefer the iceberg to the arugula, which is probably harder for a slug to pronounce. “Let’s eat the aru- arugu- oh, fuck, let’s have iceberg again.”
Then I cleaned litter boxes. One of our cats learned a life lesson last night, it seems, namely that it is easier to eat balloons and rubber bands than it is to keep them down.