Wave hello to our playlist for our July issue – full of good greetings.
Take a listen on Spotify here.
Have a browse of all our playlists.
Order a copy of July WAVE.
Image: Shutterstock; DJ: Frances Ambler
Blog
Taking Time to Live Well
Image: Shutterstock; DJ: Frances Ambler
Wave hello to our playlist for our July issue – full of good greetings.
Take a listen on Spotify here.
Have a browse of all our playlists.
Order a copy of July WAVE.
Photography: CHRIS MIDDLETON Project: BECI ORPIN
Have a go at this simple but sturdy hammock project. You should be able to make it in half a day, leaving you plenty of the bank holiday weekend left to lie in it lazily!
Lazing in a hammock is hard to beat: especially in a shady spot on a warm summer’s day, ideally with a book in one hand and a cool drink in the other. And if you’ve managed to make the hammock yourself – well, you can bask in satisfaction, as well as sunshine. This hammock is surprisingly easy to make, and is much sturdier than one of the knotted ones. We’ve added pompoms, too, because who doesn’t love a pompom? Put the labour in now and hopefully you’ll get the payoff in sunny days to come.
Made of weatherproof canvas, and as robust as it is comfortable
YOU WILL NEED
2m of 140cm-wide strong, canvas fabric
Pins
Sewing machine and thread
Tape measure
Pencil or fabric marker
Scissors
22 rivets, 23mm (1 in) in diameter, plus a rivet tool (which should come with the kit)
Mallet or hammer
66m of natural rope (ensure this is good quality and load bearing), plus extra rope for hanging
2 metal hoops or carabiners strong enough to handle appropriate weight
FOR THE POMPOMS
Wool to match the canvas fabric (this uses black and white)
Pompom maker
1 Fold a 4cm hem at each end of the fabric. Pin in place and sew.
2 Mark out where the rivets will go on the seam. This uses 11 at each end, spaced about 11cm apart. Using scissors, make small holes on the marked points. Following the instructions on the
packet, attach the rivets using the rivet tool and the mallet. Placing a wood offcut underneath the canvas will help to protect the work surface.
3 Cut the rope into 22 x 3m lengths. Fold each rope in half and thread it through each rivet using a cow hitch knot
to fasten. To form a cow hitch knot, insert the folded end of the rope through the hole and then pull it through to form a loop. Push the two rope ends through the loop and pull to tighten the knot (there are plenty of YouTube videos around if you get stuck with this bit).
4 Once all the 3m lengths are attached through the rivets, gather all the rope at one end and tie it into one large knot. Repeat for the other end. This might need adjusting once it is attached to the hanging space.
5 Pompoms: wind the wool around the pompom maker and, once full, cut the wool. Place some string or a length of wool around the cut wool, then pull it tight
and tie a knot to keep it in place. Cut this piece of wool, leaving ample length for hanging. This hammock uses two white and two black pompoms.
6 Attach the lengths of wool left on the pompoms to one end of the hammock (or attach two on each end).
7 To hang the hammock, attach the ropes on each end to a metal loop or carabiner with a double knot (make sure the knot is
very tight so that the hammock is secure). Attach extra rope to the other side of both carabiners and then tie that rope around a tree or somewhere else sturdy enough to take the weight.
Taken from Sunshine Spaces: Naturally Beautiful Projects to Make for Your Home and Outdoor Space by Beci Orpin (Hardie Grant).
Our soundtrack to July
”Nothin’ but blue skies do I see…”
Take a listen on Spotify here
Or find a playlist for every mood by searching ‘simplethingsmag’ on Spotify
Photograph: Kirstie Young
As ‘by-products’ go, courgette flowers must be one of our favourites and this is the time of year to enjoy them. This recipe by Lia Leendertz makes a delicious summery weekend lunch or substantial starter. We’ll be planting even more courgettes next year so we can enjoy even more of these crispy, delicate flowers.
Make the purée and the pesto ahead, and fry the courgette flowers at the last minute for a gorgeous plate full of high- summer flavours. Freshly made basil pesto is just right for a touch of something piquant and herbal among the gentler flavours. The smooth veggie purée is easy to whizz up and complements the crunchy deep-fried parcel with its delicate morsel of courgette flowers within.
Serves 4
For the purée
250g broad beans, double podded* (about 1kg unpodded weight)
250g peas, podded (frozen peas thawed in a little lukewarm water will also do fine)
250g ricotta cheese
handful of mint leaves, finely chopped
squeeze of lemon juice
salt and pepper
For the basil pesto
50g toasted pine nuts
1 clove of garlic, crushed
1 large bunch of basil (for leaves) extra virgin olive oil
50g finely grated parmesan
For the deep-fried courgette flowers
8 courgette flowers
sunflower or vegetable oil
125g plain flour
1⁄2 tsp salt
175ml ice cold water
1 Put all the ingredients for the purée, except the lemon juice, in a bowl and whiz to a smoothish texture with a hand blender. Add the lemon juice, season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve immediately or cover and refrigerate for up to a day.
2 For the basil pesto, use a pestle and mortar to crush the pine nuts and garlic together. Season to taste, add the basil leaves and grind to a paste before slowly adding olive oil until you have the consistency you want. Stir in the parmesan and set aside.
3 Prepare the courgette flowers by teasing them open and pulling out the yellow stamens or style. Aim to create a completely empty space within the petals. It doesn’t matter if the flower rips a little in the process.
4 Heat the oil in a high-sided saucepan. It should fill no more than a third of the pan to allow for bubbling up. Sieve the flour and salt into a bowl and whisk in the water.
5 When the oil is ready (a cube of bread will fizz and go brown), dip the flowers into the batter and lower into the oil. Fry up to three at a time for 1–2 minutes, until golden brown on one side, then flip over and brown the other side. Drain on kitchen paper and serve immediately.
This recipe was originally published in our Journey issue (no. 37) in July 2015. You can buy the issue in our online shop here.
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Photography: Kirstie Young
We all know that our lavenders blue (dilly dilly) make us feel a bit sleepy, but why?
The scent of lavender has long been used to make us feel relaxed or sleepy. And apparently, it’s not only the association with vast fields in Provence, swaying in a purple haze. Nope. Lavender’s benefits have proper scientific roots.
It’s all to do with linalool, a fragrant alcohol found in lavender extract. Researchers at Kagoshima University in 2018 found that mice exposed to the smell showed fewer signs of anxiety.
Linalool interacts with the neurotransmitter (or chemical messenger), GABA (gamma aminobutyric acid), to quieten the brain and nervous system, which makes the whole body feel more relaxed.
However, while the effects of lavender on the brain were accepted, until recently, it was not known what the ‘sites of action’ (where it got in) were of linalool.
The Kagoshima experiment found that mice who had no sense of smell did not experience the same anti-anxiety effects when sniffing lavender as mice that could smell, thus proving that the effect of linalool is on the olfactory neurons in the nose, rather than on the bloodstream via the lungs, as previously thought.
So, once the smell hits the olfactory neurons, messages are sent via long ‘wires’ to neurons in a part at the front of the brain called the ‘olfactory bulb’, which also stores memories and emotion. From here, GABA gets involved and when GABA attaches to a protein in your brain known as a GABA receptor, it produces a calming effect. Messages are sent to various parts of the nervous system, relaxing the entire body.
If you’ve not found all that information terribly relaxing, you might want to just pop a few drops of lavender essential oil on your pillow. Or why not pick up a copy of our July ‘Embrace’ issue, which has a feature by Lia Leendertz on recipes that use foraged lavender. We particularly like the lavender and blueberry buns. One of them is enough to relax us right into a nice nap of an afternoon.
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Sunny days call for sundaes and you can win a sundae kit for summer here
What’s your favourite ice-cream sundae? Knickerbocker glory, chocolate fudge brownie, banana split, or perhaps peach melba? It’s a list of names to transport you back to childhood, when pushing a long-handled spoon through layers of ripe fruit, gloopy sauce and oozing ice-cream was the height of summery indulgence. It’s a tradition worth bringing back…
Mackie’s of Scotland knows all about good traditions. At their farm, making delicious ice-cream is a sky-to-scoop production – tending the grass-fed cows that produce Mackie’s thick and creamy milk and using renewable energy to magic it into frozen tubs of goodness in a range of flavours from raspberry ripple to salted caramel.
As well as offering fantastic flavours, Mackie’s has no shortage of inspiration on how to enjoy your ice-cream. Set out ice-creams, fresh fruit, sauces, nuts and sprinkles and let friends and family build their own sundaes. You can melt Mackie’s chocolate for an instant sauce, or dip wafers into it to make the best kind of glue for sugar sprinkles. You could even top a glass of prosecco with strawberry ice-cream for a grown-up take on an old-fashioned float. Mackie’s is giving away Summer Sundae Kits to get you started – for your chance to win, enter our competition (see below). Find out more at mackies.co.uk.
There are five Mackie’s Summer Sundae Kits up for grabs. Each includes:
12 Mackie’s vouchers for a 1 litre-tub of ice-cream
12 bars of Mackie’s chocolate
A selection of toppings
2 sundae glasses
A professional ice-cream scoop and 4 long spoons
A Mackie’s recipe book, tea towel and apron.
How to enter
For your chance to win, press the button below and tell us how many sundae glasses are included in the prize.
Terms & conditions: Competition closes at 11.59pm on 7 August 2019. Winners will be selected at random from all correct entries after this date, and notified soon after. You can’t swap your Sundae Kit for cash, and the prize is non-transferable. Vouchers can be redeemed at any Mackie’s stockist – find your nearest via mackies.co.uk. You’ll find our full terms and conditions on page 127 and online at icebergpress.co.uk/comprules.
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The two-bed Dittisham in Dartmoor National Park
Feeling inspired to book your next holiday? Classic Cottages is giving away a £500 voucher
Picture an idyllic British summer getaway and a holiday cottage probably features somewhere in your imaginings. Classic Cottages has been curating property treasures in the UK since 1977. Its high-quality collection features homes across the south and west, from Cornwall to the Isle of Wight. You can browse them all at classic.co.uk. And now the company is giving away a £500 voucher to one The Simple Things reader with this brilliant competition.
To be in with a chance of winning simply enter below and answer the question.
Terms & conditions: Competition closes at 11.59pm on 7 August 2019. A winner will be selected at random from all correct entries received and notified soon after. The voucher is valid for 12 months, until 7 August 2020. You can use it on any Classic Cottages property, subject to availability, and you can’t swap it for cash or transfer it. You’ll find our full terms and conditions on page 127 of the magazine and online at icebergpress.co.uk/comprules.
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Planning to picnic this weekend? We love this fancy sandwich
Half sandwich, half pie, this picnic loaf crams the best of the local farm shop into one easy-to-carry meal. Prepare it the night before so the flavours have time to soak in. You can chop and change the ingredients according to what’s available. Find this and more in Pitch Up Eat Local by Ali Ray (£16.99, AA Publishing).
Serves 6
1 cob loaf (the crusty round one)
1 garlic clove, halved
2 tbsp pesto (from a jar is fine)
For the filling:
2 courgettes, sliced lengthways
2 red and 2 yellow peppers, seeded and sliced in thick lengths
2 tbsp or so olive oil
200g cheese (whatever you can find locally – a soft-rind/mozzarella/goat’s cheese)
200g sliced charcuterie meats or ham
a good handful salad leaves
2 tbsp fresh basil leaves
salt and pepper
1 Carefully cut the top off the cob loaf (save this for later) and hollow out the middle to leave a shell. Don’t make the walls too thin as it won’t stay crisp.
2 Toss the courgettes and peppers in the olive oil and put on a preheated griddle or BBQ grid. Cook for about 4–5 mins on each side until soft and lightly charred. Put to one side to cool.
3 Rub the cut garlic clove over the insides of the bread shell, then use a spoon to spread the pesto all around the inside walls and under the lid.
4 Blot the grilled veg with kitchen roll, then and slice the cheese. Season both well with salt and pepper, then start building up layers of veg, cheese, meat and salad leaves. Finish with a layer of basil leaves. The hollow in the bread must be filled well.
5 Put the top of the bread back on, then wrap the whole thing tightly in clingfilm. Put a plate on top and weigh down with something heavy to let the flavours fuse together for at least 2 hours, preferably overnight, in a cool-box.
6 Cut into thick, cake-style slices to eat now, or pack in your lunch-box and take on your adventures.
This recipe originally was published in June 2015 - and it tastes just as good, if not better, now.
My walking boots by Abigail Mann
It’s strange to think that my most treasured possession is a pair of boots that are so actively ignored when I don’t need them. Usually, accidental steps in hidden bogs that cause stagnant water to seep inside is the reason for their being left in the boot of the car. Always with a pledge of a deep clean and oil, but so often exchanged for a brisk bash in the car park to get rid of the biggest clods of mud before the next walk.
These boots are older than I am. Worn in for 15 years by my mum and then passed down to me, the tricky size five-and-a-halfs have been moulded to fit from a constant cycle of damp fields, sea salt and mossy woodland paths. The laces have grown plump and awkward, sometimes stubbornly immovable through rusting eyelets and the promise of drying them out after long walks.
When I was seven or eight, I plodded alongside Mum, who wore them then, on the farm we stayed at every year; a little girl who held onto her mother’s little finger. I’d pull the grass seeds from their husks and scatter them like chicken seed. When I was ten, these boots would run away from the waves and dry with a sea salt line when we didn’t escape the swash in time. When camping, they held my tiny feet as I fetched water but couldn’t be bothered to pull on my own shoes, instead shuffling across the heath to a tap, sloshing the kettle all the way back until half of what was collected remained.
They took us through summers spent in Herefordshire: soles worn from two decades of pushing down on spades and forks to lift onions – and from standing for a photo in front of the same spot of a pine forest, year after year; a family tradition that saw my brother and I grow tall with the saplings. They were mine after new waterproofing deemed Mum’s leather boots second best. Yes, they always let the water in; yes, they barely support my ankles, but they bear the marks of a love of the outdoors that bloomed in the hills of the Brecon Beacons and along the shores of North Norfolk. They’ve taken me up mountains and down valleys when
I couldn’t afford boots of my own.
The ritual of wearing thick hiking socks and sliding into Mum’s walking boots is a kindred moment. I always send her a picture of wherever me and the boots have been; a digital scrapbook that continues the photo albums stored on the family bookshelf. They are the anticipation and adventure that pulls me away from concrete and carpet. Well used. Well loved. Irreplaceable.
We’d like to know what you treasure - whether it’s a sentimental artefact, a person, a place or something else. Tell us in 500 words what means a lot to you - email thesimplethings@icebergpress.co.uk
It’s possible to achieve a level of outdoors awareness that, although once common, is now so rare that many would label it a ‘sixth sense’. This is the practised ability to draw conclusions from all of the evidence presented to our senses almost without thinking. It is not mysterious but expert intuition, a honed ability to join the dots offered by our senses to complete a fuller picture of our environment. Once you know how, it is easy to sense direction from stars and plants, forecast weather from woodland sounds, and predict the next action of an animal from its body language – instantly.
At the most basic level, we have not entirely lost these skills. Imagine you wake in a room that is perfectly dark, thanks to heavy curtains, and hear a cockerel crowing outside. It may not take any conscious thought to appreciate that it is growing light outside. The dog’s bark at the usual time tells us that the postman is arriving. But these examples are infantile compared to what our minds are capable of outdoors. But how do we know it is retrievable? Because a few individuals have held on to these skills; indigenous tribespeople, expert hunters and fishermen...
I have sat with Dayak tribespeople in Borneo as they explained that a deer would appear over the brow of a hill, and was amazed moments later when my eyes met those of a muntjac in the predicted spot. After careful discussion it became clear that the Dayak were subconsciously tuned to the relationship between the salt on a rock, the bees, the water, the time of day and the clearing in the forest, all of which suggested deer would come to lick salt at that time.
Remnants of this ability can be found in our relationship with domesticated animals. When you’re walking a dog in a city park, it’s fairly easy to tell from the way it turns whether the person approaching from behind has a dog with them or not. Time spent enjoying this way of experiencing the outdoors helps us to begin rebuilding our lost sixth sense. And if we make this a regular part of our outdoors experience, we soon find that our brain takes over, forging shortcuts and allowing us to draw conclusions without conscious thought. We sense a dog behind us, and we sense that the weather will be fine tomorrow. It is only a small leap from that to sensing what we will find round a corner or what an animal will do next.
For the past few years, I have been researching ways we can develop this sense. Central to this are the ‘keys’, a collection of patterns and events in nature worth our attention. We notice a shape in a tree or cloud and pair that with its meaning and very soon we don’t have to think it through – we just sense the meaning. In the same way, we can watch animals and learn to appreciate the key stages in their body language. It is unbelievably satisfying to be able to predict what a squirrel or robin will do next.
To get started, try playing ‘Grandma’s Footsteps’ with a bird on a lawn. Notice how you can take a few steps towards your bird when its head is down and it’s pecking. But if you try this when its head is up, it flies off. Practise this simple little game a few times and you’ll have learned your first ‘key’ - I call it ‘The Peek’. Add a few more keys and you’ll soon be predicting not just when the bird will fly off, but the tree it will fly to and what it will do when it gets there.
Very little in our surroundings is random and, with a little practice, we can learn to sense things that we may find astonishing. Understanding how and why this happens opens a new, and very old, way of experiencing our environment. It is a more radical experience of the outdoors than has been common for centuries.
Tristan is author of Wild Signs and Star Paths: the Keys to our Lost Sense (Sceptre). Read more at naturalnavigator.com.
Photography: Kirstie Young
If you think you will get through 700ml in no time, there is no need to add the citric acid or to sterilise the bottle, as it will keep in the fridge for several weeks.
Makes 700ml
1kg plums
250ml water
1 heaped tsp citric acid
600g granulated sugar per litre juice
YOU WILL NEED
A muslin or jelly bag
A funnel
A 700ml bottle and stopper, both sterilised
1 Put the plums and water into a large saucepan and bring to a simmer. Continue to simmer until the plums soften and start to fall away from the stones, and use a wooden spoon to squash them to help to release as much of the juices as possible.
2 Tip everything into a jelly bag- or muslin-lined colander, and leave to drip into a saucepan for a few hours or overnight. Resist squeezing, as this will cloud the juice.
3 Measure the juice into a clean saucepan and add 600g of sugar per litre, and the citric acid, if using. Put the pan over a low heat and stir until all of the sugar is dissolved. Pour into the sterilised bottle and seal. It will keep for 3–4 months, stored somewhere dark and cool.
Turn to page 42 for more of our staple foods feature on plums from Lia Leendertz.
When creating a forest garden, it is important to ensure enough light reaches the lower layers for healthy plants and maximum yields. The seven primary layers are:
1 Upper canopy The tallest tier is typically made up of standard fruit trees, nut trees and trees that fix nitrogen. Only suitable for large gardens.
2 Sub canopy, or canopy trees for smaller gardens: mid-sized trees, including most familiar fruit trees.
3 Shrubs Bushes that produce berries and plants that attract pollinators and offer habitats for wildlife.
4 Herbaceous plants A perennial layer including some herbs and medicinal plants.
5 Ground cover Low-growing edible and often nitrogen-fixing plants which enrich the soil and help control weeds.
6 Underground plants Edible roots and tubers and micro-organisms including fruiting fungi (mushrooms).
7 Climbers or vines Plants that trail along the ground, over branches and up into trees and shrubs.
Taken from The Garden Awakening by Mary Reynolds (Green Books).
Turn to page 114 of July's The Simple Things for more from this month's My Plot - how Claire Leadbitter turned a bare paddock into a forest garden.
There are plenty of local courses online, or look at those run by the National Trust (nationaltrust.org.uk/build-your-skills). Wild guides (wildthingspublishing.com) also list local courses by region.
Try your hand at carving anything from spoons to stools. From £65, woodmatters.org.uk.
All-female day and weekend retreats in Tortworth Arboretum, eg, willow skills and campfire cooking. From £16.50, honeywoodscamping.co.uk.
Women-only wilderness weekenders include foraging, wild medicinal plants and natural navigation. From £160, wild-things.org.uk.
You’ll use 100% recycled materials to forge your own knife, complete with an antler handle. Four-day course, from £350, wildbushcraft.co.uk.
Craft courses are run throughout the year in Ecclesall Woods in Sheffield. From blacksmithing to furniture- making, the bustling Woodland Discovery Centre is a hidden oasis in the city. From £85, ecclesallwoodscraftcourses.co.uk.
Most come with a stake to sink into your borders thus creating a row of lights to guide your eye (and guests) along the garden path. Try: Solar bubble outdoor stake lights, £24 for four (johnlewis.com), which change colour and add a little festival flavour to proceedings.
Bigger and brighter than fairy lights with round bulbs best hung in swags. They look good strung from trees or a pergola and provide enough light to eat by. Try: Elan solar festoon lanterns, 20 LEDs, £19.98, thesolarcentre.co.uk; LED connectable perspex festoon lights, £35, lights4fun.co.uk.
Garden torches with LED lights exist but are tame compared to the guttering flame of an oil lamp. Try: Iron garden torches, £15.95 each; 120cm high (allthingsbrightonbeautiful.co.uk); bamboo garden torches, £5.90 each; 180cm high (homebase.co.uk).
Created to withstand storms at sea, these robust lamps are fuelled with paraffin with a wind-up wick, and won’t blow out. Put one or two on the table or hang from wall hooks. Look out for them at army surplus stores. Try: Silver hurricane lantern, 10 inch, £5.99 (surplusoutdoors.com).
Photography: Alamy
Forests can often feel a little like galleries: the hushed atmosphere, the filtered light, the sculptural forms of the branches. It’s no surprise then that several forests have taken this one step further, installing site-specific sculptures, to help us explore and understand the woods and their history. So in the Forest of Dean Sculpture Trail, lines of compressed charcoal by Onya McCausland signal underground coal mines, while in Kielder Water and Forest Park in Northumberland, Chris Drury’s Wave Chamber projects the rippling waters of the adjacent lake onto the chamber’s floor.
Summer is often when we head to the coast and, just as many of our seaside towns are now home to impressive art galleries (think Margate and Dundee), so outdoor art has stepped into the limelight. Another Place by Antony Gormley is undoubtedly one of the most haunting works: 100 life-size cast-iron statues “trying to remain standing, trying to breathe,”as Gormley has said, in the shifting sands of Crosby Beach, just north of Liverpool. Due to its size, and therefore the statement it makes, a lot of outdoor art tends to be by well known artists with guaranteed ‘pulling power’ (eg, Maggi Hambling’s Scallop at Aldeburgh). It’s refreshing then to note that the five new waymarking sculptures created for the Gower coastal trail between Mumbles and Rhossili this year are all by lesser-known artists, all women, handcarving in oak.
Purpose-built sculpture parks got going in Britain in the late 1970s with the launch of the Yorkshire Sculpture Park, the first in the UK and, with more than 500 acres to play with, the largest of its kind in Europe. The rolling open fields provide an expansive backdrop to monumental pieces by Henry Moore, while the landscaped grounds and woods shelter works by a roll call of leading names from Elisabeth Frink to Andy Goldsworthy. Entrance is free, but donations are invited. If it’s site-specific art you’re after, head further north to Jupiter Artland, just outside Edinburgh, where collectors Robert and Nicky Wilson have invited contemporary artists to make new pieces for their 100-acre estate. Highlights include several works by Goldsworthy and Cells of Life by Charles Jencks, in which the earth itself has been sculpted into sinuous, swirling landforms.
Turn to page 64 of July's The Simple Things for more extraordinary and challenging, joyful outdoor art that helps us see the world differently.
Illustration: ALICE PATTULLO
With its protruding spines, downward gaze and prehensile tail, this most beguiling fish looks like a shy, prehistoric ghost. Floating upright, it hangs motionless waiting for its prey to pass, which it then sucks up through its long snout. Found in seagrass habitats from Scotland to Dorset.
Most often seen when masses, known as a ‘bloom’, are washed up on the beach. Which is a shame, as they look most beautiful floating in transparent clusters. Moon jellyfish can grow up to 40cm in diameter and have short hairy tentacles that hang from their dome like a fringe. They are mostly harmless, though may sting sensitive skin.
This elegant starfish has long slender arms which they can cleverly self-amputate if being attacked; the arms regrow. Brittle stars prefer to live in great gangs (called ‘aggregations’) on the sea bed, their arms raised to catch plankton; can number up to 1,500 per square metre. Usually in deep water but sometimes under boulders and in rockpools.
Unlike other anemones, Snakelocks anemone’s bright-green tentacles remain out all the time: all the better to sting and capture small fish. They can be found on the seabed, attached to large seaweeds, and in sunny rockpools, where their flowing tentacles with their purple tips sift through the passing currents.
Attached to rocks and other objects by a long black penduncle and with a chalky white shell which opens to reveal spiky fronds, this unusual creature has an alien-like quality.
Often disguised by seaweed and sponges that grow all over it, this large knobbly crustacean has long-jointed legs, small claws and spiky shell. It can be found in South and West England and its sustainable numbers mean it’s increasingly eaten in the UK, although most are exported to France and Spain.
Photography: John Kernick
FOR EACH PARCEL
3 sprigs flat-leaf parsley
1 large sprig fresh rosemary or thyme
3 spring onions, finely chopped
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
2 tbsp lemon juice or a splash of dry white wine
250g shellfish, such as cockles, clams and prawns (with shells on)*
1 Take a large 30cm square of baking parchment for each parcel. On one side, place your mixed herbs and spring onions, season and drizzle with a little oil and lemon juice or wine. Lay the shellfish on top, drizzle over the remaining oil and lemon juice.
2 Fold the paper up and over the filling, and pinch all the way round to secure, tucking the corners under a couple of times to ensure the parcel is thoroughly sealed while leaving plenty of space in the parcel for air to circulate evenly during cooking. If you’re barbecuing them, wrap a sheet of foil around the parcel too, taking care not to squash it.
3 To barbecue: ensure the charcoal grill is medium hot (your hand over the coals should be comfortable for about five seconds). Place the parcels on a grill rack and cook for 3–4 mins until you start to hear the juices bubbling. Cook for another 5 mins with the lid over the barbecue. Take off the heat and set aside, unopened, for 5 mins.
4 To cook in the oven: preheat to 200C/ Fan 180C/Gas 6, place the parcels on a baking tray and cook for 20 mins. Take out and check the cockles or clams have opened or prawns are bright pink. Remember it will continue to cook when out of the oven. Stand for 3–5 mins.
Recipe from Mediterranean by Susie Theodorou (Kyle Books).
* You can replace the shellfish with 175g fish such as sea bass, mackerel or salmon (about 1.5cm thick, keep skin on). Cook until fish is just flaky.
A day spent learning a new skill is mindful and mind full (in a good way) living. This month, Kate Pettifer learns sea kayaking.
A pond off the A10 is where I learnt to canoe. It involved a minibus and changing out of school uniform, so it was a while ago. The idea of getting out to sea on a kayak, in Dorset’s beautiful Studland Bay, is all the temptation I need to try it again.
I’m on a three-hour taster session: we kit up at the hut, then it’s down to the beach to practise our paddling, sitting on the sand, wearing wetsuits, helmets and spraydeck skirts. As you do. Josh, our instructor, runs through the basics. In touring kayaks, we head across the bay towards Old Harry Rocks to practise going forwards, backwards, left and right. No swimmers are harmed, no boats bashed – I take this as a success.
Then – joy of joy – we’re out of the wind and alongside the chalky cliffs, paddling serenely through mirror- calm shallows, a colourful garden of seaweed swaying just centimetres below in the bathwater-clear sea.
We paddle onto a pebble beach, only accessible by boat. Josh talks a bit about the geography and nature of the area. We sample pepper dulse, a feathery purple seaweed with a buttery-then-fiery taste. Then it’s back in the canoes to manoeuvre through a gap in the rocks, into open water, to see Old Harry himself. Paddling under an arch in the cliffs is a real highlight, before we set off back.
It’s a fairly strenuous couple of hours – sitting upright, bracing your legs, and paddling, of course. But touring kayaks lend themselves to slow and steady handling, so there’s no pressure to bomb along. More than exercise, though, it feels like a privilege to visit such a picturesque spot from sea level, enjoying the clear waters and the peace that bobbing around on the sea can bring.
A three-hour sea kayaking taster with Fore/Adventure costs £60; foreadventure.co.uk.
Illustration: Kavel Rafferty
Anaphylactic shock is possible from jellyfish stings. Seek immediate medical attention if any of the symptoms of an allergic reaction: nausea, difficulty in breathing, difficulty in swallowing, fever, heart palpitations.
WHILE YOU WAIT FOR MEDICAL HELP:
* Prevent further stinging by brushing away tentacle fragments.
* Scrape off any remaining stinging cells with a sharp-edged object such as a credit card. A towel will suffice if nothing else is available.
* Rinse with seawater, not ever with fresh water (which can trigger further stings).
* Apply up to five drops of lavender essential oil to help neutralise the sting. Reapply every 15 minutes. (Pouring urine on the stung area has the same effect.)
* Start healing. Apply vitamin E or aloe vera juice to heal tissue and reduce inflammation.
Adapted from The Natural First Aid Handbook by Brigitte Mars (Storey Publishing).
We celebrate slowing down, enjoying what you have, making the most of where you live, enjoying the company of of friends and family, and feeding them well. We like to grow some of our own vegetables, visit local markets, rummage for vintage finds, and decorate our home with the plunder. We love being outdoors and enjoy the satisfaction that comes with a job well done.