To Autumn

Autumn has arrived promptly this year, bringing chillier mornings and darker evenings.
Autumn raids the cliché cupboard every year and there can scarcely be any adult who has not, at some time or another, uttered at least the first line of Keats' famous poem, To Autumn,

"Season of mist and mellow fruitfulness"

It is a season that assails our senses; there are the scents of bonfires, quinces and damp leaves; the sounds of apples thudding to the ground in the wind, dry leaves kicked by small children and, buried in the memory, the clash of conker on conker; then there is the nip in the air, tingling the fingertips and beginning to numb the toes.
And the sheer glory of the colours; glorious shades of orange, red, yellow - I was astonished to look out of the kitchen window and see the extraordinary yellow hue of the damson tree leaves, which seemed to have received word overnight that the seasons had officially crossed the line.
An aside, while we are on the subject of colour.  Do you know what season you are?  Doing some research before I embarked on this post, I was astonished to discover that Colour Me Beautiful is still a "thing".  Carole Jackson wrote the book that launched the company over 35 years ago, but is no longer involved. You can read more in this article by Hannah Marriott. I had assumed, cynic that I am, that it was a relic of the power suited, excess fuelled 80's when money was no object and for some it took more than American footballer sized shoulder pads and a can of hairspray to give them the confidence to join the swaggering class.
Cynicism aside, there is a warmth to the hues of this season that softens, yet intensifies the light of the shortening days.

My favourite lines from Keats' poem are:

"To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, 

And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core."

There is an abundance of ripe, seasonal produce of every shade in Autumn, after all, every church in the land is preparing for Harvest Festival; orange squashes, red and green apples, pears, yellow quinces, late summer and green tomatoes - the ones you know will rot before they ripen, but are too good to waste - white, green and purple brassicas, brown nuts and the last of the purple finger staining damsons, blackberries and elderberries.

Now is the time for the warm spices; cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, allspice; for dried fruits and citrus.
There is already a number of autumnal recipes if you scroll through the appropriate months, but I make no apologies for adding another.  You can make this one all year round, by substituting the fresh corn for tinned.

This recipe brings together the colours I have already mentioned, with some of those warm spices.  I cannot claim credit for its origin, nor trace its provenance back to the ultimate source, but I can acknowledge two steps along its evolutionary journey.  I took my inspiration from a piece by Simon Hopkinson - a yellowing, desiccating cutting from the Independent Saturday Magazine, a throwback to the sadly lamented glory days of the broadsheet format print editions. He, in turn, based his recipe on a tomato curry prepared by the Thanki family at the Kastoori Indian restaurant in Tooting, south London, equally sadly, now closed.

Tomato, egg and sweetcorn curry

2 eggs, boiled for 4 minutes and cooled under cold running water.
2 corn on the cob, kernels stripped
8 medium sized tomatoes, halved
50g butter
2 cloves garlic
4 tsp ground ginger
2tsp cumin seed and 1tsp cloves
½ tsp fennel seeds
5 green cardamom pods
1 dried red chilli
50g creamed coconut
200ml water
2 tsp salt
Juice of half a lemon

Toast the cumin and fennel seeds and cloves in a dry pan, until the aroma rises and inveigles its way into your nostrils.  A blini pan is ideal for this.  Remove from the heat and grind finely in a spice grinder or with a pestle and mortar.
Place a large frying pan or prospector casserole over a medium heat and melt the butter.
Add the garlic and cook until just turning golden.  Stir in the spices and cook for another 2 minutes.
Put the tomatoes, sweetcorn coconut and water into the pan. Stir and then leave to simmer until the coconut dissolves into the water and tomato juices.
Cover with a lid and simmer for 20 minutes. 
Meanwhile, peel and halve the eggs.
Take off the pan lid, remove the chilli and the cardamom pods, season to taste with salt and add the lemon juice.
Sit the eggs on top and continue cooking for another 5 minutes.
Serve with plain boiled basmati rice or chapatis.

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