Something else you may have missed

Posted by Sam on Friday, January 27th 2012     

In keeping with my current trend to mention things after the event (see Burns Night below), here are a few snaps of my wares at the St Margaret’s-at-Cliff Monthly Market this morning.  

I was armed with three types of our home-grown sour-dough yeast bread, including onion and potato plus a couple of ‘normal’ yeast loaves flavoured with cherry tomato or red onion and cheddar.  Chocolate fridge cake, coffee and walnut  cake and Abernathy biscuits also featured heavily!

Oh, and of course there were Kentish apple and pork sausage rolls, from scratch almond croissants, not forgetting pineapple upside down and muesli biscuits for the semi sort of health conscious.

Bet you wished you’d gone now. 

The Village Market, held the last Friday in every month at St Margaret’s Village Hall from 9 am.  In aid of St Margaret’s Nursery and After School Club.  See you there next on Friday 24th February.  Come early or you’ll miss the pork pie.

category: Bread, Brunch/Breakfast, Chocolate, Food
tags: , , , ,

I wouldn’t normally mention it but…

Posted by Sam on Thursday, January 26th 2012     

In our entranceway, immediately as you step through either of the doors, there is a whopping great blackboard. The Whisky Tour On said completely unmissable blackboard was information about our Burn’s Night Supper last night; whisky fried haggis, neeps and tatties, Cranachan and a dram complete with a virtual trip round the Scottish Isles and associated distilleries all for £12.00 (bookings already being taken for next year…). 

The wee beastie

 Trouble is, on two occasions last night, not to mention a couple of snidey comments this morning, it’s been suggested I didn’t tell anyone about the event in advance.  Well clearly this wasn’t the case as it was very well attended but even so, if people are going to moan at me perhaps a 2ft by 3ft blackboard isn’t notice enough.

 Therefore, to avoid any further accusations of furtiveness I’d like to bring everyone’s attention to the following….

  

So that’s a Pudding Night, 9th February, here at The Coastguard and yes it does mention Baked Alaska (try squinting a little).  Clearer details on the events page, email and, of course, the blackboard.  Just don’t tell anyone else I told you…..

category: Food, Photos, Uncategorized, Whisky
tags: , , , , ,

Drying times

Posted by Sam on Monday, June 13th 2011     

One of our more green fingered regulars popped in the other night with mega carrier bag full of herbs from his garden.  Wild fennel, mint, marjoram, garlic – you name it and if it’s possible to grow in a seaside garden on the Kent Coast it was there.  There was nothing for it but to set to work making flavoured oils, herb butters and a mountain of tabouleh but even after a jug of freshly minted mojito (or in my condition, elderflower presse….) there was still no way we’d be able to do justice to the remaining in time.

I’ve never been partial to dried herbs, the sachets of dried dust you buy on your holidays in Provence are the usually the herb equivalent of Retsina.  Taste and smell amazing whilst languishing on some pine scented Island in the Med yet somehow mysteriously transform into household detergent and ashes the minute you touch down back in Blighty.  Despite all of my misgivings, I just couldn’t stand the thought of the last few herbs going to waste, so I dragged out our drying machine and began filling the trays with fennel fronds, rosemary sticks, oregano, chives and mint.

We’ve had a really good year for amazingly sweet cherry tomatoes and most nights the smell of the lightly seasoned fruit has wafted out to sea in the wee hours with me waking to find trays of dark dark red shrunken discs of chewy densely flavoured tomato.  Depending on the size, our dryer (which is a bit like a cross between a vegetable stack steamer and a hairdryer) takes about 12 hours to dry the life out of a tomato wedge or 6 to reduce a baby plum tomato down to half size.

With herbs it’s a different story.  Within about 10 minutes, the whole kitchen smelt like a edible pot-pourri and an hour later I had the most amazing looking branches of feathery fennel with stems just like curry flavoured crisps. The chives were the best deep-fried leeks I’d ever tasted – crisp, oniony and without the usual slightly oily overtones nor the inevitable burnt black bits.  The mint screamed to be added to the last leaves of fresh to make an exceptionally pungent peppermint tea and the oregano was just pizza flavour personified!   The rosemary stems made it onto the menu as the pungent skewer for halloumi and sweet pepper kebabs.

All in all, I’m now beginning to see the point of dried herbs. Admittedly, I’m not sure how long the flavours will last or when they’ll all suddenly realise that they’re not in the Med and turn to dust.  Yet somehow I feel a bit like ancient man who, just when he though bread couldn’t get any better, invented toast.

category: Food, Uncategorized

Let them eat brunch

Posted by Sam on Sunday, May 22nd 2011     

It’s only taken 9 years and the best part of 9 months but finally, today at 10am, we started our 1st  ever breakfast/brunch service. It’s been months in the planning to the extent I’ve a sneaking suspicion that not only the staff, but our loyal regulars were running a book on whether it would actually happen at all. Well, I’ve no idea who won but I can only hope it was one of the guys that had the whopping double portion of homemade lorne sausage with extra black pudding, fried eggs, tattie scones and crispy smoked bacon. 

For those of you that missed our one tweet (Twitter – the source of all secrets..) and my hasty scribble on the welcome blackboard on Saturday morning (well, you don’t want to advertise these things too much just in case anyone actually turns up!),  below is our current breakfast/brunch menu…..

 Brunch at The Coastguard

From 9.15am – 11.45am

Gypsy Eggs – Heuvos a la Flamenca – £5.00

Local free range eggs baked in a nest of spicy salami, ham, tomatoes and paprika studded with jewel-like peas and potatoes to soak up the juices – a delicious if not exactly classic combination for breakie BUT boy is this cure or cure if you’ve indulged just a tad too much the night before……

Kedgeree – £5.00

You’re by the sea.  What better excuse for the old Anglo Indian favourite of Smoked haddock, butter, curry spices, rice, eggs and did I mention butter. Eat with copious amounts of sea air and a mug of char.

Celtic Breakfast – £6.50

Well, we’re as far south as we can be so it’s your very last chance to indulge in homemade Lorne sausage, tattie scones, black pudding, bacon and free-range eggs with not a single pony nod to healthiness in sight so NO it doesn’t come with mushrooms, tomatoes, beans or anything green…….

Eggs ‘Casino’ Royale – £6.00

A covert salute to our old next door neighbour Mr Bond (well at least, his creator Mr Flemming…) we’ve taken the classic free-range eggs smothered with hollandaise and spinach on a freshly baked muffin and topped it off with Scottish smoked salmon  giving that added edge of luxury….. 

Seaside Spa Sundae – £2.50

Breathe in the sea air and feel virtuous as you tuck into a breakfast ‘Sundae’ of our own fruit and nut muesli mix, Greek yoghurt and runny honey

Vive St Margaret’s Bay – £3.50

A platter of pastries and bread made from scratch with our own fair hands – yes even the croissants….. Unequalled until you get a good few miles the other side of the Channel! 

The Butties – £3.00

Rashers of crispy streaky bacon in doorstops of white bloomer bread

Vine roast tomatoes, garlic mushrooms and herbs on toasted homemade ‘wild’ sourdough bread

For those of you that weren’t paying attention and missed out, never fear.  You can always pop in next Sunday, or the one after, or the one after that….  as whilst it might take me a while to put something into action, once it’s running,  it takes forever to stop doing it!  Super tankers and turning manoeuvres come to mind – fairly apt considering our location.  

 Breakfast and Brunch at The Coastguard, every Sunday from 9.15 until 11.45.  Wake up and smell the coffee sea air!

category: Bread, Brunch/Breakfast, Chocolate, Food, Uncategorized
tags: 

A Belated Auld Lang Syne

Posted by samwyd on Thursday, January 13th 2011     

Admittedly, January is usually the month for forward thinking and fresh starts, but what with Christmas, cliff falls, snow and various forms of flu in varying sized family members, forgive me for still being in New Year’s Eve nostalgia mode.  Whilst I am sent back years by the very mention of a Texan bar or whiff of creamola foam (although, it has to be the orange one) this time it wasn’t a long forgotten sweet that sent me spinning back to the playground.  It was the seaming innocent phrase ‘ a little bit of politics’.   Sorry, but there is no way anyone can say this, be it John Humphreys’ or even Jim Naugtie (if he could get the words out) without me envisaging Ben Elton, dressed in a shiny black suit almost eating an SM58 microphone.  Almost instantaneously I was back, racing for the school bus chanting ‘double seat, double seat, gotta get a double seat’.

Anyway, it got me thinking.  I’m guessing there is probably a university somewhere doing a 0 level (sorry GCSE) in the comedic influences on youth through the ages, but whilst there is nothing quite as age defining as the price of your first mars bar, isn’t it possible that the comedy we watched as kids defined and dated our sense of humour as (and I use the word loosely) adults.
So, basically, the way I see it, (on trend with the current climate of ‘blame it on the old regime’ culture) the main reason I’m not St Margaret’s answer to Sandi Toksvig – other than height, age and birthplace – is down to early exposure to Kelly Monteith and Jasper Carrot over a bribery bag of Monster Munch whilst my parents nipped out for a not so swift half leaving me in control of the TV er.. knob.  Now on a roll, I can probably blame my lack of musical taste on years of secreting a larger than shoebox sized not so wireless  under the covers tuned to Peter Powel on Radio Luxembourg and my love of food from constant re-reading Famous Five’s picnic adventures when the signal was lost.
Well I guess there is no point dwelling.  Texan Bars are no more, Luxembourg now TV Channel FIVE and the days gone when being immersed in a text would make your English teacher smile.  Also, when I think about it, chanting ‘Quadruple seat with table and luggage compartment close to a toilet with changing facilities’ as I’m racing down the platform, family in tow, doesn’t have quite the same ring……

category: Thoughts

The Last Dram

Posted by Sam on Monday, November 29th 2010     

The last dram in the bottle always makes it a very special dram but it’s made extra specially special when it’s an exceptionally special, and not to mention, fairly rare whisky. Once it’s been poured there’s no more – well, at least not until when/if we get another bottle.

Today’s last dram is The Macphunn , an 18 year old, distilled on Speyside and matured in Sherry Oak. It was one of less than 300 bottles from a single cask selected by Sir Charles Maclean, 16th Keeper of Dunconnel in the Isles of the Sea. His father Lord Fitzroy Maclean (yep, the one that everyone denies was definitely the inspiration for Ian Flemming’s 007) was the first to select The Macphunn to sell in the family hotel.

The Macphunn is named after half hung Archibald Macphunn of Dripp, who, legend has it, was a notorious sheep stealer or murderer (depending on who you talk to!). Tried, convicted and eventually hung, his body was released to his wife who rowed it back across Loch Fyne for burial. Half way across she stopped to nurse her baby and noticed her husband’s corpse twitch. Quickly she mixed a little milk with some whisky she just happened to have handy and forced it between the lips of her husband. Unbelievably, Archie survived and, because under Scottish law he couldn’t be hung for the same offence twice, he went on to live until a ripe old age albeit looking at life on a slight angle. For once this story may actually be true as there are records from the 17th Century of an Archibald Macphunn being hung yet the final date of death recorded several years later.

So next time you’re in Strachur take a look at Archie’s gravestone, or failing that pop down the hill and raise a glass to the lucky old man. Although I’d be quick, it is after all, the last dram.

category: Drink, History, Whisky
tags: , , ,

Somebody please scrape me off the ceiling

Posted by Sam on Friday, July 9th 2010     

It’s 1.20 AM.  Now it’s not unusual for me to be up at this time especially as ‘tis the season’ for weddings and some seriously long days slaving over a hot stove.  What is unusual is that I actually finished work, put the children back to bed (for the 14th time), tweeted, placed the veg order and shut the doors well over an hour ago, yet I’m still up. Normal procedure is to complete everything, draw a breath and then fall dead asleep (preferably somewhere near the bed) until one of the small children yells ‘breakfast time’ in my ear.

So, what, why and where did this sudden energy come from?  Could it possibly have anything to do with the 1 hour between lunch and evening shifts spent testing the new coffee machine????  First there were lattes, Americanos and cappuccinos (not really my thing but hey they had to be tried).  Then onto the espressos with a brief interlude of mocha, followed by two types of ristretto.

Now anyone that knows me will tell you that I don’t do caffeine very well stemming from a nasty incident with a packet of pro plus many years ago.  To cut a very long (57 hours to be exact) period of wakefulness short, not only did a single pill keep me alert, it kept me talking, non stop with only the odd breather whilst I burst into song.  Since then, purely as a gesture to my fellow man, I’ve resisted the temptation of all energy drinks, pick me up pills and coffee.

That is until today, where I find myself with no-one to talk to but my computer whilst trying desperately to stop myself from waking the household with an impromptu rendition of something vaguely reminiscent of an old Dexy’s Midnight Runner’s hit.  Haven’t been this excited about a new piece of kit since the installation of the tumble drier.  Ok, so I don’t get out much these days….

category: Coffee

Fat Menus

Posted by Sam on Thursday, March 4th 2010     

Block you ears, I can feel a rant coming on. 

Apparently, a group of 20 so called ‘industry specialists’ have gotten their heads together and believe the idea to enforce all restaurants to put the exact calorific and nutritional value of each dish on every menu is a jolly good one. As you might expect, I beg to differ….

Mandatory nutritional labelling on menus would be the death toll to fresh food restaurants. Not putting a finer point on it but I have on average 16 individual dishes on my menu most which change every lunchtime and evening dependent on local produce.  Said produce, such as a whole lemon sole, don’t actually come in identical weights. Secondly, I cook to order and, shockingly, there are occasions when I put down my micrometer and add ingredients by eye.  Ok, so I could trim each lobster down to the same weight – sorry madam, I had to cut the last two fifths off as it was oversized -and yes, I suppose if a customer requested additional tartare sauce we could ring the food police so the offending person gets struck off the NHS for inciting obesity.

If I was required by law to quote calorific values with the threat of prosecution if it were incorrect, there are only two options open to me.  Continue to produce individual meals but with a nutritionalist and testing unit next to me to monitor each dish, then inform each individual customer of the nutritional content in return for a signed decloration of acceptance,  or, buy it all in vac packed portioned controlled mass produced packets with a longer ambient shelf life than my own and use it’s wraper as the menu. 

Even the Americans have taken this on board and have limited it to chain restaurants.  The likes of the burger giants, tavern steak houses and supermarket canteens, all of which have multiple outlets sourcing their food from one central mass food producer.  The sorts of places that we’re advised not to eat in too often and yet the government now want to turn every restaurant into. If I was a cynic, I’d wonder if this isn’t just a ploy to get us to all die young thereby ending the pension problem and the euthanasia issue with one well aimed frozen vegi nugget, whilst outwardly appearing to actually care about our health.

Surely, as customers we don’t need this.  If you have a dietary requirement, tell the waiting staff to tell the chef!  He/she, having made the dish, should be able to tell you not only what is in it, but might just be able to adapt to suit.  If they can’t, don’t eat there.  Where does it stop?  Do you really want your pint of beer to have a calorific label on it or your cream liqueur to admit the number of stabilisers contained within it?  At the end of the day we all know the chocolate cream gateaux is probably going to be more fattening then the fresh fruit salad – and if it isn’t, I for one wouldn’t want to know the amount of  chemical sweeteners I’d be shovelling down my throat!!!  

So, if you are still with me after reading the tirade, I suspect you might be interested in who the ‘industry specialists’ are.  Well, every single one of them are huge catering outlets all of which have central processing units.  Hmmm, I wonder, could they possibly be biased?

category: Uncategorized

Hungry Mouths

Posted by Sam on Wednesday, February 24th 2010     
No3 child

No 3 child

When No 3 was born last August I vowed I wasn’t having anymore children.  That was until we decided to start making bread from scratch.  Sourdough to be precise, made from a wild yeast starter that once established you have to feed and nurture.

Nicknamed ‘the kids’ I’ve suddenly found I’ve four additional mouths to feed and, quite frankly, they are almost as demanding as our brood.  At least with the children I can put them to bed before evening service and more often than not I’m not disturbed until ohh, at least 5.30 in the morning.

yeast in progress

No3 Yeast

The ‘kids’ on the other hand need attention from the moment we enter the kitchen. Firstly, there’s the weighing out of the first batch of yeast to make bread. Then there the 1st feed and a small drink after which it does little other than mooch about in a bowl in the cosiest part of the kitchen for 8 hours whilst it contemplates rising a bit for the 1st prove. Feeding time again, a light massage (otherwise known as kneading) and then another little lounge whilst it proves a second time at which point it suns itself in the oven. Out again, it needs to cool for a couple of hours before the baker might actually get to eat something – well after you’ve feed the starter it’s evening snackette that is….

Taking on board that the bread is now flying out the door with a fair amount of repeat custom – seems quite a lot of people like it – we’re having to go through this process twice daily with all 4 of our starters.

Admittedly, we’ve kind of got into the swing of it now and the next step is to try and make bread from some beer.  I’m trying to find a brew that’s made from a wild rather than processed yeast which is proving hard to come by so we may well have to make our own (Ok, ok chaps I can here your groans from the office!)  In the meantime, Pete over at the Hopdaemon brewery is helpfully giving it a go for us with some wort  so we’re waiting with baited bread for the results…..

The finished product

category: Bread
tags: , , ,

In search of a historical beer geek….

Posted by Sam on Friday, January 15th 2010     

It’s not often I give up a cry for help in the old food history stakes – in fact never – but in this instance no amount of googling or old fashioned page turning seems to be coming up with the answer.

Now I realise that there probably isn’t anyone left in the world I haven’t bored rigid about our bread project but just in case here is the précis…  We’re making bread from a wild yeast culture we have grown from scratch.  Well, in researching the whole sour dough starter thing I came up with a comment about a bread and beer connection I hadn’t thought of.

We’re currently growing yeast from grapes (which, apparently, is how our warmer European cousins would have done it) along with a simple flour and water version that just relies on being exposed to oxygen.  However, the Gauls and Iberians apparently made a jolly nice bread from using the froth for the top of their beer.

This makes absolute sense because it would have sped up the bread making process immensely as well as making a lighter loaf than the usual brick type affair.  Anyway, it got me thinking and, digging further, I came across notes that the Babylonians in 6000BC wrote the first known beer recipe which used under baked bread to serve as the live yeast culture added to make beer.

Which brings me to my question…. Does anyone out there know either how to speak ancient Babylonian OR, possibly more helpfully, could advise me how to make a beer using our simple sour-dough starter (eg the one without the grapes)?

Nigel is muttering darkly about duty so I guess I need so say I only want to brew a few pints so I can use the froth to make bread – we’ll probably have to throw the actually alcohol away (never thought I’d ever write that…) in any case,  I think I’ll leave the drinkable beer brewing to the experts!!!

Answers on a postcard please or to thecoastguard@talk21.com

category: Beer
tags: , , ,
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Menus

Chef Sam Wydymus takes the finest local ingredients and crafts her menu according to the tides, the weather and the seasons. The menu changes twice daily depending upon the availability of local produce but our sample menu should give you an idea of some of the things that may appear on your visit.

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Our Drink

The best artisanal cask ale, beer from across the world, wine to complement your food, and Scotland's finest whisky. The Coastguard's bar has a deservedly high reputation. Check out our regularly changing range of cask ale or browse through our extensive wine list. There's something there to wet every whistle.

Find us

Through the village, down the hill, follow the sound of the sea and you'll find yourself right outside The Coastguard. With the high speed train we're only a short hop from London, or follow James Bond's drive through Kent to his striking destination on the White Cliffs.