Netherton Foundry Shropshire

Netherton Foundry Shropshire
Classic cookware, made in England

Sunday 26 February 2017

Marmalade flapjack

As you may know if you follow our social media accounts, we are fond of the outdoors and all manner of outdoor eating.
That extends to packed lunches for walking and climbing trips and my challenge is to keep coming up with new ideas. 
OH is very fond of home made malt loaf and I follow a recipe from my Good Housekeeping recipe book, 1979 , baked in our own loaf tins, naturally.


But he also likes a good flapjack and I have been working on some new combinations that are a little less sweet and sticky and a bit higher in protein, great for topping up on the go or post exercise.

This recipe can be modified by changing the dried fruit; try apricots or cranberries or a mix of whatever you have in the cupboard;  chuck in some chopped nuts and ring the changes with the seeds, I used sunflower and black sesame this time, but chia and pumpkin seeds are also good.

4oz butter, 
4oz peanut butter
4oz marmalade -  I used home made 
2oz golden syrup
8oz porage oats
4oz raisins
2oz mixed seeds

Pre heat oven to 150ºC

Melt the first 4 ingredients in a saucepan 


Put the dry ingredients into a mixing bowl and stir well to distribute the fruit and seeds.
Pour in the melted ingredients and mix thoroughly.


Line a 20 x 20cm baking tray with greaseproof paper or a butter wrapper.
Turn out in to the baking tray and pat flat.

Bake for  20 - 25 minutes.
Turn out while still warm, not hot, and cut into squares.

© Netherton Foundry 2017

Sunday 12 February 2017

A day at Otter Farm 3

Wear sensible shoes. So said the joining instructions for the course.
OK, so the footwear is sorted, sort of. But what else to wear, is there a dress code for this kind of event?  The nerves tingle and sting like Spring nettles. What will everyone else be wearing? Am I being too shallow? Will there be a yummy mummy contingent,  ladies d'un certain age and a certain, confident style, media maidens, sassily strutting their AllSaints apparel?  Nothing in my wardrobe shouts "writing course" at me, oh where is my Elizabeth David outfit when I need it.
Pull yourself together, woman. This is a food writing course, not a remake of The Devil Wears Prada. You are meeting Diana Henry, not Anna Wintour.  All the same, as the saying goes, clothes maketh the (wo)man, so I need something that is not only comfortable, but which will also boost confidence.
Black dress, black boots, grey cardigan, done.
And as I walk into Mark and Candida's glorious kitchen at Otter Farm and meet Diana, I take in her black dress, black boots and grey cardigan.  I feel better already.  Better yet with a cup of coffee and a still warm, fennel fragrant biscuit, produced by the disarmingly youthful 5 o'clock apron, aka Claire Thomson.
The other course attendees start arriving.  Coffee and tea flow freely and initial, introductory conversations stutter into life. We are issued with sticky name labels and V. uses hers to cover the toothpaste mark on her black top and I inwardly acknowledge my right to be here.  What's more it's a joy to discover that I already "know" some of these people from the virtual world of social media, where we so often expose our personalities and hide our identities.
More coffee, and, with the arrival of long distance traveller, A., we begin.

I open the beautiful notebook, given to me at Christmas by my daughter, especially for today. I don't want to miss a thing.



There is so much to take in, Diana has structured the course to cover as much material as possible In the time available.
I listen, I make notes, I drink more coffee, I eat sublime cake, thanks again Claire, listen again, make more notes, eat a delicious lunch, yes, prepared by Claire, and swig home made Limoncello with sparkling Otter Farm wine. 



Enough to be glad that I am not the one to be driving home, not so much that the afternoon will be a somnolent haze.
Just as well, because as soon as the lunch  dishes are cleared, it's our turn to work.  Write a piece in 45 minutes; a metaphoric blank piece of paper insolently defies us to pick a topic, an audience and a coherent collection of words.
THIS IS NOT EASY. But harder yet is reading it aloud to the group.
Deep breath, don't look up, go for it. There is appreciation, laughter - reassuringly in the places I'd expected - and relief.  I listen to the others' pieces; this room is brimming with talent, wit and warmth.

The day is over, we have run over our allotted finish time and yet it has past all too swiftly.


I am not going to divulge details of the course itself, you will have to attend yourself for that.  Only that way can you benefit, as I did, from one far more qualified than I am to deliver pearls of writing wisdom. Cliched that may be, but believe me, pearls they were, lustrous, precious and certainly not found in every shell.


It is time to go home to homework, housework and getting these in the right order.  This post is part of my homework, whilst the dishes languish in the sink!


Many thanks to Mark and Candida for arranging the course and opening their beautiful home to us, to Claire for feeding us so wonderfully,  I can still taste the marmalade polenta cake and, of course, to Diana for sharing her skill and talents with us so generously.



© Netherton Foundry Shropshire 2017


Wednesday 1 February 2017

Cranberry and marmalade cake

I have never been one for the type of resolutions that see you having to give up something pleasurable during the grey days of January.  Admittedly the days are technically getting longer, but you'd be hard pushed to admit that that's what it feels like.
There is, I have no doubt, a different shade of grey for every day of the month and yet they all merge into one long, washed out blur of monochromatic misery.  Not quite 50 shades, but let's not go down that road.

It's hard to feel cheerful faced with the monotony of bad, but rarely so bad you can't go to work, weather; the comedown after Christmas, when you no longer have the tree, but the pine needles keep turning up under the sofa, the last of the slightly dodgy chocolates that you received in the secret Santa sack, the sad resignation of not being able to gorge yourself on mince pies for another 10 months, at least;  eating the last slice of Christmas cake; acknowledging that a nice glass of sherry mid afternoon is no longer acceptable; higher heating bills that coincide with the arrival of the Christmas credit card bill. April is most certainly not the cruellest month.

January is not the month to be contemplating fresh starts, it does not live up to the promise of a new year, new start -  more like new year, let's just pull the blankets over our heads and wait for Spring.

But there are reasons to be cheerful - no more bloody trite TV ads for a start and no more celebrities smugly telling us about their perfect Christmas,when we all know that they pay someone else to decorate their tasteful tree, cook their dinner and wrap their overindulgent, social media friendly presents.


Bah humbug indeed.


Mid way through the morning of my day at Otter Farm, Claire presented us with a slice of still warm, marmalade, polenta and thyme cake.  Divine.

I also have my own, slightly different and seasonal marmalade cake, which I shall share with you.
This is a perfect January dish, when you still have cranberries hanging around after Christmas and the first Seville  oranges are in the shops.

I used the last of the cranberry sauce I had made at Christmas, which had been decanted into a jar and stored in the fridge.
You can, of course, use commercially made sauce, but it will be too sweet and sticky without a little adulteration. I suggest that you warm 2 tablespoons of sauce gently over a low heat and add the juice of 2 Seville oranges.
If you want to start from scratch, measure out enough fresh cranberries to cover the base of your loaf tin and then transfer them to a pan. Add the juice of an orange and cook gently until they start to burst and the juice starts to run. Add sugar to taste, but go carefully, this will be the topping for a cake, so don't overdo it or the end result will make your teeth ache.

Pre heat the oven to 180ºC


Weigh 2 medium size eggs, in their shells and then measure the same weight of butter, marmalade and self raising flour.
You will also need ½ tsp fennel seeds, although I know opinion is fiercely divided on this subject, so feel free to omit them if you are not a fan and 2 tablespoons cranberry sauce

Beat butter and marmalade together.  Add the eggs and beat thoroughly.  A food mixer or processor is best for this, you want as much air in the mixture as possible.

Sift in the flour and fennel seeds.

Grease a 1lb loaf tin and spread the cranberry sauce over the base.


Top with the cake mix and spread evenly.



Place in the oven and bake for approx 30 minutes until a skewer inserted in the middle comes out clean.
Leave to stand for 10 minutes

Run a knife around the edge of the cake and invert the tin onto a serving plate.




Serve with creme fraiche, mixed with grated orange zest and a sprinkle of icing sugar, or simply eat as it is with a cup of coffee.

© Netherton Foundry Shropshire 2017