Jingle bells fiesta

This weekend we are all enjoying our village fiesta. There are flags flying and fun is on the programme.

When we hear another jingling of bells going past our house we know that a couple of horses, perhaps pulling a carriage full of happy people are heading down to the festivities.

As members of the neighbours´ association, which organises everything, we have our fat program, packed with times and activities and adverts for local tradesmen and shops. This fiesta really is local.

On Friday a big dance took place in the village hall, with announcements of the winners of the titles: Villager of the Year; village pensioner of the year; pilgrims of the year, both adult and children; helper of the year; and best couple. The cooks at the event took part in a competition to see who could rustle up the best migas – a favourite local dish made with olive oil and flour, and scatterings of chorizo and other treats. Bingo “with big prizes” provided spice.

Yesterday, there were board game competitions. An outdoor space was cleared to play caliche, which involves flowing metal discs at a single peg in the ground. A bouncy castle and snacks kept the children happy. There were prizes for the people who look after others throughout the year and another “grande baile” with Latin music and old time Spanish songs.

Today, the horses and carriages and all the villagers were out in the morning for the formal journey of a statue of The Virgin from a church a little distance away to the village itself. The image, garlanded with flowers, was carried on strong shoulders, with a band and everyone following behind in procession. Once The Virgin was safely installed in the hall, there were black puddings and soup with meatballs, followed by a giant paella for everyone. All free, of course.

Tonight the village beauty queen will be chosen, with singing and dancing, before The Virgin is taken back to the church. Celebrations will continue afterwards in the village and, of course, when it gets dark there will be fireworks.

We have to be sure not to lose our fiesta programme as it includes our numbers for the raffle draw on Christmas Eve – a “magnificent reserve-quality ham.”

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©Phillip Bruce 2009

Country dinner time

With friends arriving for dinner tonight came the perfect opportunity to enjoy
two of the large rabbits given to us by local hunters.

Rabbit does not seem to be a popular meat these days, at least in the UK but it was once a staple of the general diet. Rabbits fed the hungry farm labourers and their many children and graced the tables of stately homes. On great estates special warrens would be constructed to encourage the rabbits to breed. Rabbit has always been a favourite in Spain and one theory that suggests that the country's name is derived from some ancient form of “land of the rabbits.”

We decided to make a rich but simple rabbit casserole. Ask your butcher for rabbit, and it will come skinned and prepared. Take:

Two jointed rabbits
Three large chopped onions
One finely chopped red pepper
Two or three sliced carrots
400-500 grams of white beans, chick peas or lentils (it's easiest to use a jar or can so they are already soft but if you want to be traditional, use the hard dry versions and soak them overnight first)
One pack or jar of tomato frito (puree)
A handful of chopped fresh herbs, such as rosemary, marjoram, chives and sage. Or use dried herbs.
Salt and pepper
Bay leaf
About three quarters of a bottle of red wine
Water

Put everything in a large casserole pan and bring almost to the boil on the stove. Then remove, place tinfoil over the top to seal and put the lid on. Put in the oven at high temperature for 15 minutes. Then reduce the heat and cook slowly for four or five hours.

For a starter we made a cool and lovely chilled vichyssoise (which is fancy French for leek and potato soup) Take:

One pound of peeled and cubed potatoes
One pound of leeks, with green tops removed, cleaned well, and sliced
Water
Chicken or vegetable stock, use a cube
Salt and pepper
Cream

Put the potatoes and leeks in a big pot with water and boil. Add the stock and perhaps a bit of salt but not too much. Grind in some black pepper. When the vegetables are soft, take off the heat and allow to cool for an hour or so. Whiz everything in a food processor and pour into a serving bowl. Stir in single cream and put in the fridge for a couple of hours to cool. Serve with hot crusty bread and a dish of butter.

For pudding we served fruit crumble, made with apples, the sweet white plums given to Sharon yesterday, currants, four cloves, and brown sugar.

In case someone really didn't fancy rabbit, we also made a fresh quiche with ham and mushrooms.

To drink – Buck's Fizz at first, which we made with Spanish cava and orange juice. At the table there was red or white wine and cold beer.

Simple stuff and delicious in the cool of a summer evening.

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©Phillip Bruce 2009

So many wonderful people

Sharon has been talking about the kind and helpful people she meets.

“When I get into the car, Phil has to lift me out of my wheelchair and into my seat. This morning, we were parked on a slight slope in the village. So, I made sure the brake was on the chair and stood up. I bend my knees to do a little jump to help but my door was trying to swing closed. Phil didn´t notice and lifted me into the car. When he turned round there was a passer-by who had come across to hold the door so that it didn´t bang his back.

“These sort of events happen on more than one occasion every day when I am out. So many people are so thoughtful and helpful, holding doors, helping up and down steps with the wheelchair, and taking time to talk to me.

“This is just how people are where I live. They love helping and being friendly.

“Recently, there was a letter to a British newspaper which was about whether or not Spanish pensioners are entitled to free holidays. They are. The writer said that she and a friend had booked a last minute Spanish holiday. They knew it wasn´t on the beach but just wanted a break.

“When they arrived they were picked up and driven for ages until they arrived at a little hotel in the middle of nowhere. They thought a mistake had been made as it was full of elderly people. They went to bed and at breakfast the next morning everyone talked to them. Although they didn´t speak any Spanish, it became clear that these were a group of pensioners on their free holidays.

“From that moment onwards, she and her friend were included in every single activity. They learned how to flamenco dance, went on sight seeing tours and were included in all meals and social activities. They had the best holiday they ever had and spent the whole week laughing. Never mind the language barrier, it was unthinkable to the elderly holidaymakers that they would leave anyone out and alone.

“I have been living in Spain for about seven years and have noticed that Spanish people always include people who are on their own. Whenever you go into a bank, cafe or a shop you must say “good morning” to everyone. It´s just the done thing. If anyone knows you, or one of your friends or neighbours, you will be engaged in a friendly chat.

“This morning I had to take some new trousers to the lady in a nearby village that does my alterations for me. She is the wife of a garage owner and is lovely. We had made two banana cakes, one for me and one for her. (See recipe in an earlier story). I gave her the cake and she was delighted. She rushed out into her garden and came back with a big bag full of delicious sweet white plums from one of her trees.

“Later on we went to our fruit and vegetable shop and, as usual, the shelves were overflowing with the colours of lovely fresh produce. We left with two brimming bagfuls of deep purple aubergines, a giant lettuce, red peppers, tomatoes on the vine, pears, peaches, bananas, courgettes, a big bunch of spinach, a cauliflower and other things. As usual, we were given a free bunch of fresh parsley.

“This little gifts form an essential part of every day life. If you buy something in a shop you will often get a little extra something as a thank you.

“Courtesy and good manners are so important in Spain. Saying hullo is essential. And talking to people is a normal part of life. You don´t say hullo and walk on. You talk about the family, how ´s your mother, how´s your children? Is your life good? These are all normal questions often from people you don´t know very well. But they are usually related to people who do know you, such as neighbours, and information is shared around. They are genuinely interested.

“Where else would you find the lady in the bank coming out from behind her counter to give you a big kiss and tell you about her recent holiday in Dublin? With nobody in the queue complaining about the delay but listening with interest.

“No-one seems to mind that our Spanish isn´t perfect and we make many mistakes. It´s the trying that counts and you need never feel embarrassed. You´ll learn new words every day.

“Each time I go out I seem to make a few more friends and learn a little more about how people should treat each other.”

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©Phillip Bruce 2009

A.M. Albondigas

At 11am it is time for a café con leche and a bit of tapas and today meat balls, or albóndigas, looked very tasty on the counter of the café that we called at.
The rich meatballs were served with quickly fried shavings of potato and a delicious sauce.

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©Phillip Bruce 2009

Hot weather good for hot chilies

The chilies in Sharon´s huerta, or garden, are going great guns as the sun beats down. Regular watering and the hot weather obviously suits them.

These chilies are grown from seeds sent from a noted expert in hot stuff from Suffolk. When the little fruit (are they a fruit or a veg?) start to form they are yellowish. Then they turn a deep purple and gradually develop into the familiar deep red.

These chilies have been going for a couple of years now and they are ideal for making chili sherry. This was an old favourite in Gentlemen’s Clubs in the former British colonies Out East and it is very easy to make. All you day is take the hottest little chilies you can find and press as many as you can into a cut-glass decanter, or any bottle with a tight stopper or screw top. Then carefully pour in sherry until the chilies are drowned and the bottle is full. Leave for about three months and it will be ready, although the longer the better.

Then keep the decanter or bottle handy on the table so it is always handy. In the East, the correct drill was to scatter a few drops of the brew into your bowl of soup, holding the stopper so that the chilies themselves did not come out. However, chili sherry also goes well with noodles and rice dishes or anything that needs a bit of livening up.

The finest chili plant ever seen grew on the island to the southeast of Hong Kong out in the South China Sea – Waglan. This was originally a customs and weather station in Chinese Imperial times. It is shown on an 1810 map of “Macau Roads” produced by the East India Company. Many of the officers of this service were British. Later Waglan became the responsibility of the colonial authorities of Hong Kong. The station would, and does, feed meteorological information ashore and at night the powerful light sweeps for miles.

Today, sadly, everything is automated. But in the good old days the station was manned and one lighthouse man loved his work. He would stay on the island for about two months at a time, enjoying the peace, and then would be given a week´s leave ashore. He lived in the crowded Aldrich Bay typhoon shelter at Sai Wan Ho with his Chinese wife and a large brood of children. After a few days, the noise became too much for him and he would go off with his fishermen friends for some peace and quiet until it was time to report again for duty at Waglan.

Ten or fifteen years ago we visited the island. The old lighthouse man has his grave there and he rests in eternal peace while the waves of the South China Sea lap at the rocks below. The grave was shaded by an enormous chili tree. Not a plant or a bush, but a tree. The fruits were eight to ten inches long and we collected many of them. Later, the seeds were dried and then planted. For years we enjoyed these wonderful chilies each year until, sadly, the stock of seeds ran out, we moved, left Hong Kong.

Somewhere in our files are photographs of Waglan Island, and of the grave. When, or if, these every turn up it will be possible to give the name of the lighthouse man.

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©Phillip Bruce 2009.

Cress makes summer treat

Today we enjoyed home grown cress sandwiches in traditional English style with boiled eggs and mayonnaise.

The bread was crustless, of course, and cut carefully and the sandwiches were an unusual treat in the Spanish countryside. Some time earlier we had bought a cress kit in a bag, which included soil and seeds, and all it took was some sunlight and water for the seeds to sprout and grow quickly.

Harvest came today with carefully snipping of scissors, boiling of eggs and mixing with mayonnaise.

Many people will remember growing garden cress on blotting paper at school in early experiments in biology classes. This cress is not the big-leaved stuff that grows in water beds but, instead, consists of frail white stems with little green leaves at the top.

On June 2, 1953, the young Princess Elizabeth was crowned Queen and celebrations were held throughout Britain and in dominions and colonies around the world. Youngsters in Harringey, London, were given a special tea party to mark the occasion. Phillip, who was two, was one of the toddlers invited and the party is one of his earliest memories.

When he returned home, according to his mother, he was full of complaint. “Mum. They made us eat grass,” he protested. The grass was, of course, cress.

A few years older now, cress is a very special treat. The Latin name for garden cress is Lepidium sativum and it is related to the larger-leaved cresses. It is one of the most important of the mustard species. As garden cress can´t be dried it has to be eaten fresh – hence the grow-your-own packs. A hundred grams of cress contains 115 per cent of the individual daily requirement for vitamin C and many other good things.

Some people, it must be said, find the taste a little too strong and mustardy.

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©Phillip Bruce 2009.

Songbirds singing in the tree

A quiet knock on the front door signaled a neighbour who whispered to be quiet and come and look at something.

We walked to the pine tree at the front of our house and he pointed at a nest in a high branch. This is the first time that birds have nested in the tree and we are delighted.

The pine was planted about five years ago with a great deal of effort. The initial scheme to just dig a hole and pop a sapling in was frustrated by the fact that our old house is built on top of a big slab of solid granite. “Digging a hole” needed a road drill and hours of sweating work over a couple of days.

We wondered whether anything would grow in a hole in solid stone but the sapling is now about 15 feet high, strong, and reaching ever upwards with new bright green shoots. Worryingly, we now look at pine trees in the village that are 70 or 80 feet high but, never mind, it will be up to future generations to worry about that.

The little nest is full of baby greenfinches, according to our friend. These are “verderón” in Spanish and there are probably three to eight eggs in the nest. Of course, we haven´t disturbed it and are leaving mum and dad to feed the hungry brood. Apparently, greenfinches normally eat seeds but build up the babies with a nutritious supply of insects.

Our house is popular with birds. At the rear there is a hole in the outside of the wall of the kitchen. For years this has been full of the sound of happy babies chirruping throughout the spring and summer. Several broods are raised there annually and we haven´t the heart to fill in the hole.

Recently, lots of swallows have been darting around, particularly in the evenings, all fast movements, soaring and veering through the dusk.

Meanwhile, over at the salt pans of the regional park at San Pedro del Pinatar, on the shores of the Mar Menor, Europe´s largest inland sea, the birds of summer have arrived in great numbers. This is one of the most important points on the great migration routes of Europe and Africa and at this time of year there are tens of thousands of birds either passing through, or settling down for the summer.

Perhaps the most colourful are the flamingos, which arrive in the springtime and spatter pink across the salt pans. These move, as the summer gets hotter, even further north where they breed in places such as the Ebro River, but some hardier souls remain at San Pedro. They are best seen in the very early morning and, as visitors arrive to look at them they move further out into the salt pans to get away from the attention. At times there can be some 2,000 flamingos in the water.

Bird experts say that over the year more than 200 species of bird can be spotted in the 856 hectare reserve. In summer there are also terns, storks and avocets. During the winter other species appear, including kingfishers and birds that head south to avoid the cold winters of places such as Britain.

The San Pedro del Pinatar reserve is very important and ornithologists and environmentalists are working hard with the support of the regional government to make sure that this vital haven is protected and kept in an ideal state for the constant stream of feathered visitors throughout the year.

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©Phillip Bruce 2009.