No need to carp about crepes

Sharon has been continuing to enjoy the delicious treats at the Fairtrade breakfasts and morning coffees that have been running in Wigtown.

Yesterday, she was offered tremendous temptation at a breakfast in a conservatory with magnificent views right out across Wigtown Bay and across to the distant hills with their shawls of snow.

Crepes with strawberries and thick cream were on the menu.

Sharon made a few desultory comments about waiting to diet “until the better weather comes,” which everyone agreed was very sensible, and was soon tucking into a lovely plate of crepes.

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The singular crocus

If you see a spread of beautiful little flowers in bloom at this time of year, you know that one plant is called a crocus but what is the correct word for the plural?

Now is when the crocus is bringing its splash of colour to gardens and parks everywhere and it is a true sign that winter is on its way out. Yesterday, Sharon bent from her wheelchair to try and see the flowers of a particularly fine display.

The crocus is not native to Britain. Like so many other of our favourite flowers it has arrived from elsewhere but is now an essential part of the gardener's world. The crocus is native to coastal and sub-alpine areas of central and southern Europe, being found also in North Africa, the Middle East, Central Asia and China. The first time that anyone wrote about the crocus being in northern Europe was in 1560 when it was brought to Holland. By 1620s garden varieties had been developed. Now about 80 species are recognised of which about 30 are generally grown in gardens.

The world's most expensive spice, saffron, is a crocus with the tiny stamens being used to give flavouring and rich colour to dishes such as paella. The current price is more than nine pounds a gram (US$14). Sharon's neighbours in Spain used to grow it and the plants were very like those found in the ordinary garden in Britain. Little corms were planted but the neighbours said that saffron could only be grown in the same spot for a couple of years before the soil was exhausted by the effort of providing all that flavour for cooks.

So – what word should you use for several of the plants?

The answer is croci – not crocuses.

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Making a monkey out of Sharon

Sharon is delighted at the help she has been receiving from the Dumfries and Galloway social services team.

“Everyone has been so warm and friendly,” she said. “And I look forward to having them visit – although they have to listen to me yakking on. They have become my friends.

“Yesterday, I was the happy recipient of a contraption called a Monkey Bar. This hangs over the bed or lie back chair and there is a triangle type handle suspended ,for me to pull myself up and lower myself down into my wheelchair or bed. So I don't have to hang around my husband's neck like before. He says he doesn't mind at all but a girl has to have her independence. This is another way forward for me.

“No jokes, please, about monkeys hanging off bars.”

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Time for breakfast

This week Wigtown has been busy as local businesses, hotels and families have been hosting breakfasts and morning coffees to mark the town's enthusiasm for the Fairtrade movement.

Sharon has been doing her bit, and has enjoyed scrambled eggs, creamy and delicious local raspberry and strawberry yoghurt, cakes and lots of cups of proper tea.

Yesterday she went to a wonderful and historic home which enjoys magnificent views out over Wigtown Bay. The marshes and sandbanks stretch away and there are thousands of geese and other birds to be seen. The geese seem really happy now that the shooting season is over. “I'm sure they know,” said one friend. “They always seem to be more relaxed after the hunters depart.” Apparently, the geese even know that the men with the guns are waiting for them to take off at dawn. So they have started flying in the dark as the night ends.

“I couldn't decide whether it was the date and walnut loaf or the ginger cake that I liked the best yesterday,” said Sharon. “So I had to keep sampling them to try and make up my mind. There were pieces of crystallised ginger in the ginger cake, so it was even more yummy.

“The diet is definitely not starting until the summer salad weather arrives, if it does. Secretly, I'm hoping it doesn't so I can just carry on enjoying myself with all the wonderful local fare.”

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Not an artichoke and not from Jerusalem

Sharon enjoyed a delicious birthday dinner at the guest house of her sister Deborah, with local salt marsh lamb and fresh vegetables.

Deborah had been out earlier in the day digging up the small tubers of Jerusalem artichokes from her vegetable patch at Hillcrest House, Wigtown, Scotland. These had survived the deep frosts and heavy snows of recent months without any problems at all. Debs scrubbed them and roasted them together with potatoes which were served with the lamb, and Sharon's favourite creamed leeks.

The Jerusalem artichokes were delicious – and nothing like the traditional artichoke, which is a thistle head. The vegetable is native to the eastern parts of the United States and the French found it being cultivated there by the native peoples in about 1605. One suggestion for the confusing name is that subsequent waves of immigrants from Italy and Spain arrived and enthusiastically adopted the root into their cooking. The plant grows very tall and looks like a sunflower. That is because it is a form of sunflower. And in both Italian and Spanish the word for sunflower is “girasol.” If you say it fast this could be mistaken for “Jerusalem.” Why it is called an “artichoke” when it is nothing like it remains a mystery.

The tubers are knobbly and look a bit like a ginger root. Apparently, the plant is very easy to grow and the flowers are very attractive.

On the technical front, the Jerusalem artichoke is high in iron, with plenty of niacin, thiamine, phosphorous and copper. However, in some people it causes problem with wind. Perhaps this is because its tubers contain inlulin rather than starch.

Everything is delicious at Hillcrest House and the slow-roasted lamb is outstanding. Deborah cooks it in the oven in a large lidded pot. The pot has a rack which covers the bottom and raises the meat a few inches. Into the pot went the lamb, fresh herbs from the garden, and a bottle of good red Spanish wine. For Sharon's dinner this was Posada del Rey, or guest house of the king. The label informs that Benedictine monks took over this building in the 19th century and established a distillery. In 1959 it was converted into a winery and the wines are made using the best grapes and traditional techniques. “Pousada del Rey has an intense, glowing and cherry colour, aromas of dark berry fruits and a long, velvety finish. We enjoy this wine with garlic-roasted lamb or a simple dish of Cameros goat's cheese and olives.”

Hillcrest House, Maidland Place, Station Road, Wigtown, Dumfries and Galloway, Scotland, DG8 9EU. Telephone: 01988 402018. www.hillcrest-wigtown.co.uk; info@hillcrest-wigtown.co.uk.

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Oyster enthusiasts wanted

Does anyone fancy an oyster feast?

Galloway's Loch Ryan is home to Scotland's largest known oyster beds which have been providing juicy oysters since at least 1701.

The oysters are now carefully harvested in an ecologically friendly way by Rossmore Oysters, which makes sure that the 10 million or so oysters and spat in the bay are in no danger of over-exploitation. The loch is, in fact, a sea inlet, with Stranraer at its head. The company rents the beds from the Wallace Family, which was given a Royal Charter to them by King William III. In the past oysters were harvested all along the Solway coast and in the 19th century there were at least 50 boats involved with many of the oystermen coming from Essex and the harbour at the Isle of Whithorn (see picture) being the main base. Today Loch Ryan is the only operation.

The oysters are taken down to Worthing, in West Sussex, where they are purified before being shipped all over the UK and Europe. The Spanish and the French are particularly keen on the Loch Ryan Oysters and huge quantities are consumed at top London restaurants, such as Le Gavroche, and at swanky hotels such as Scotland's Gleneagles.

Neil, of Rossmore, explained that Loch Ryan produces “a good fat oyster” and said that he personally found it had a bit of a peaty flavour – rather like Scotland's famed malt whiskies.

The oysters are supplied by express courier anywhere in the UK at a pound each for the large size. The problem for small orders is that the delivery charge is 12 pounds per order as obviously, they have to be despatched and arrive quickly.

So, we are looking for oyster enthusiasts who would like to join us in making an order of a dozen each so that we can have a big box sent to Wigtown for an oyster feast – with only one delivery charge having to be paid.

If you would like to join us at the feast, ordering say a dozen oysters per head, then send an email to sharon888bruce@gmail.com.

Of course, the only thing to drink with oysters is Black Velvet, made in a big jug with a bottle of champagne and an equal quantity of Guinness. Should you, sadly, not happen to be a banker in a state-owned bank with vast bonus to spend, you can always substitute cider for the champagne.

If you want to order your own Loch Ryan oysters, the website is at www.oysters.co.uk.

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Sharon tells God where to go

Two years ago today Sharon suffered a massive stroke when a blood vessel in her brain ruptured. Things looked very grim and doctors warned it would be best to prepare for the worst.

As she was sped to hospital in an ambulance a stop had to be made at the side of the road while paramedics fought for her life. She arrived at hospital and was rushed into an operating theatre where an emergency operation was carried out to relieve the pressure of the blood that was pressing on her brain. Then there was a high-speed dash to a major surgical hospital where in another operation, as Sharon explains it: “They cut the top of my head off.” She lay in intensive care for a few days and then an intricate third operation was carried out which saw tiny coils of platinum placed at the site of the break so that clots could form and block the leaking blood. More weeks unconscious in intensive care followed, living through machines. But Sharon was not ready to go. She describes what happened at one stage of this critical period.

“I was in this big open area that was very brightly lit by ginormous yellow lights on the top of poles around the edges. All these people kept floating up to me and telling me that God was ready to meet me at the gate round the back.

“I told everybody that I was not going to meet God because I was going back to be with my family. That was more important to me than meeting God.

“I can still see it all in my minds 'eye now.”

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