The look of enforced enthusiasm on my face says it all to an outsider looking in on my ( i should really go more often) trips to see my Nana.
M* and i are trying to encourage her to eat the 'ahem' visually interesting roast dinner that sits before her, not that i can blame her but she doesn't seem to pay it any more amount of attention than she is giving to M and I.
Absorbing my surroundings like a cheap branded version of a sheet of kitchen towel, I'm quietly unable to cope with the amount of emotion that is silently emitted from the old aged guests that inhabit the same home as my own relative.
Age is sad, painful, lonely. Age is forgotten and to me age frightens me silly.
Having said that, i took another slow and wary tip toe into this emotionally burdening atmosphere and took a deeper more brooding look.
Not always able to communicate in either facial expressions or body language the majority of the guests appeared content with their simple surroundings, what had once seemed harrowing and desperate now looked comforting and easy. Men and woman born generations before us were now tucking into a largely portioned pork roast dinner and an more than ample serving of rhubarb and custard whilst one distinguished old dear was tactfully blowing a kiss and casually flirting with one of the male staff.
The guilt of not visiting often enough started to ease away as did the mild ' life's so short ' panic attack that i had been secretly building up inside of me, that was until a dementia riddled accusation of ' You've not been for a long time', crossly passed through my Nana's lips.
Guilt still simmering from before i took to trying to entice her to take a mouthful of what all the others had clearly enjoyed, but its a hard sell when you yourself wouldn't let even the smallest forkful pass through your pursed lips.
The problem was that due to my Nana's health preferences everything had been pureed to make eating it all that bit easier for her.
Radioactive orange slop oozed next to some lack - lustered green coloured peas which seemed to spread over the plate like a multiplying bacteria. Slops of mashed potato were the equivalent of a soft and saggy ten year old bean bag ( bottom mark, embedded in the top) which helped hold the smoothed pork into a kind of meat memorial whilst pools of bistos best swamped around its edges.
The more i shuddered at the haunting schmooze that laid before my eyes the more i started to realise what a contradicting cow i have become.
M is surely to loving of a mother to remind me that not so long ago up until about the tender age of sixteen, this method of mushed up soft pastes of food was my preferred way of eating.
Most Sundays i ate my dinner alone ( too busy playing with ponies ), dollops of fluffy mash potato, soft as butter carrots, a solidified version of the pureed pork that mildly resembled the shape of a steak ( lamb grill steaks - remember them?) and enough gravy to fill an Olympic sized swimming pool and i was almost in heaven, my piece de resistance was to creatively swirl it all together and place a satisfying amount of tart mint sauce on top, it could of been put into a can and served as Sunday lunch soup.
So instead of falsely advertising it to my grandparent i rejoiced in the memories of food that has long since passed my lips, i really want to tell you that in the spirit of the moment i ate some to show her that it tastes good, but fortunately she picked up the spoon and proceeded to eat it herself in her own time.
The dish i made that night was a homage to my Nana and to how i most remember eating some of the tastiest things of my life ( just done with a little more finesse).
Rack of Lamb with celeriac puree and a port and blackberry sauce
1 rack of lamb - french trimmed
Bunch of fresh mint and a few sprigs of rosemary
A couple of cloves of garlic - chopped
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
Celeriac puree-
1 celeriac, peeled and diced
1 shallot, peeled and finely sliced
1 clove of garlic, peeled and chopped
Milk
Half fat creme fraiche
salt & pepper
Port and Blackberry Sauce -
Port
Home - made or shop bought Blackberry jelly
Lamb stock
Corn flour
Place the rack of lamb in a large freezer bag, chop the mint and the rosemary finely and add to the bag with the garlic and a couple of good swigs of olive oil. Gently massage the oil and the herbs into the meat and leave to marinate for a good couple of hours (If I'm honest i only remembered to do this half an hour before cooking and it still tasted aromatic and juicy, i thought it just sounded more professional)
To make the celeriac puree heat some oil in a pan, then add the chopped shallot and garlic and cook until softened. Add the celeriac and cook for 5 Min's until slightly softened then cover with the milk.
Simmer gently for around 20 Min's then take off the heat and blend until pureed.
Stir in a tablespoon of creme fraiche and check for seasoning.
Check for lumps, they are the enemy in this dish!
Pre heat the oven to 200oc , heat a large frying pan to a medium to high heat and brown the lamb rack on all sides until lightly coloured. Place the pan into the oven and roast in the oven for 8 minutes for medium rare, 15 minutes for medium or 20 - 25 minutes for well done.
( R likes his meat quite rare so i cooked ours for 10 minutes, this way it was a rosy pink on the inside and not at all bloody)
It s important that you rest the racks on a different plate covered with tin foil. This is essential as the juices need to be absorbed back into the meat as it relaxes.
For the sauce place the pan that you cooked the lamb in back onto a direct heat and add a couple of good generous glugs of port, allow the port to reduce and then add 2 tablespoons of blackberry jelly.
Whilst the sauce is still fiercly reducing away add some lamb stock to loosen it slightly.
Depending on how thick you like your sauces you can add a paste of some corn flour mixed with some cold water to make it a bit thicker. If you have the unfortunate problem with lumps simply pass through a sieve before serving.
Carve the lamb into cutlets before serving and place on top of a memorable dollop of celeriac puree.
Serve with seasonal veg of your choice.
* M - Mum
M* and i are trying to encourage her to eat the 'ahem' visually interesting roast dinner that sits before her, not that i can blame her but she doesn't seem to pay it any more amount of attention than she is giving to M and I.
Absorbing my surroundings like a cheap branded version of a sheet of kitchen towel, I'm quietly unable to cope with the amount of emotion that is silently emitted from the old aged guests that inhabit the same home as my own relative.
Age is sad, painful, lonely. Age is forgotten and to me age frightens me silly.
Having said that, i took another slow and wary tip toe into this emotionally burdening atmosphere and took a deeper more brooding look.
Not always able to communicate in either facial expressions or body language the majority of the guests appeared content with their simple surroundings, what had once seemed harrowing and desperate now looked comforting and easy. Men and woman born generations before us were now tucking into a largely portioned pork roast dinner and an more than ample serving of rhubarb and custard whilst one distinguished old dear was tactfully blowing a kiss and casually flirting with one of the male staff.
The guilt of not visiting often enough started to ease away as did the mild ' life's so short ' panic attack that i had been secretly building up inside of me, that was until a dementia riddled accusation of ' You've not been for a long time', crossly passed through my Nana's lips.
Guilt still simmering from before i took to trying to entice her to take a mouthful of what all the others had clearly enjoyed, but its a hard sell when you yourself wouldn't let even the smallest forkful pass through your pursed lips.
The problem was that due to my Nana's health preferences everything had been pureed to make eating it all that bit easier for her.
Radioactive orange slop oozed next to some lack - lustered green coloured peas which seemed to spread over the plate like a multiplying bacteria. Slops of mashed potato were the equivalent of a soft and saggy ten year old bean bag ( bottom mark, embedded in the top) which helped hold the smoothed pork into a kind of meat memorial whilst pools of bistos best swamped around its edges.
The more i shuddered at the haunting schmooze that laid before my eyes the more i started to realise what a contradicting cow i have become.
M is surely to loving of a mother to remind me that not so long ago up until about the tender age of sixteen, this method of mushed up soft pastes of food was my preferred way of eating.
Most Sundays i ate my dinner alone ( too busy playing with ponies ), dollops of fluffy mash potato, soft as butter carrots, a solidified version of the pureed pork that mildly resembled the shape of a steak ( lamb grill steaks - remember them?) and enough gravy to fill an Olympic sized swimming pool and i was almost in heaven, my piece de resistance was to creatively swirl it all together and place a satisfying amount of tart mint sauce on top, it could of been put into a can and served as Sunday lunch soup.
So instead of falsely advertising it to my grandparent i rejoiced in the memories of food that has long since passed my lips, i really want to tell you that in the spirit of the moment i ate some to show her that it tastes good, but fortunately she picked up the spoon and proceeded to eat it herself in her own time.
The dish i made that night was a homage to my Nana and to how i most remember eating some of the tastiest things of my life ( just done with a little more finesse).
Rack of Lamb with celeriac puree and a port and blackberry sauce
1 rack of lamb - french trimmed
Bunch of fresh mint and a few sprigs of rosemary
A couple of cloves of garlic - chopped
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
Celeriac puree-
1 celeriac, peeled and diced
1 shallot, peeled and finely sliced
1 clove of garlic, peeled and chopped
Milk
Half fat creme fraiche
salt & pepper
Port and Blackberry Sauce -
Port
Home - made or shop bought Blackberry jelly
Lamb stock
Corn flour
Place the rack of lamb in a large freezer bag, chop the mint and the rosemary finely and add to the bag with the garlic and a couple of good swigs of olive oil. Gently massage the oil and the herbs into the meat and leave to marinate for a good couple of hours (If I'm honest i only remembered to do this half an hour before cooking and it still tasted aromatic and juicy, i thought it just sounded more professional)
To make the celeriac puree heat some oil in a pan, then add the chopped shallot and garlic and cook until softened. Add the celeriac and cook for 5 Min's until slightly softened then cover with the milk.
Simmer gently for around 20 Min's then take off the heat and blend until pureed.
Stir in a tablespoon of creme fraiche and check for seasoning.
Check for lumps, they are the enemy in this dish!
Pre heat the oven to 200oc , heat a large frying pan to a medium to high heat and brown the lamb rack on all sides until lightly coloured. Place the pan into the oven and roast in the oven for 8 minutes for medium rare, 15 minutes for medium or 20 - 25 minutes for well done.
( R likes his meat quite rare so i cooked ours for 10 minutes, this way it was a rosy pink on the inside and not at all bloody)
It s important that you rest the racks on a different plate covered with tin foil. This is essential as the juices need to be absorbed back into the meat as it relaxes.
For the sauce place the pan that you cooked the lamb in back onto a direct heat and add a couple of good generous glugs of port, allow the port to reduce and then add 2 tablespoons of blackberry jelly.
Whilst the sauce is still fiercly reducing away add some lamb stock to loosen it slightly.
Depending on how thick you like your sauces you can add a paste of some corn flour mixed with some cold water to make it a bit thicker. If you have the unfortunate problem with lumps simply pass through a sieve before serving.
Carve the lamb into cutlets before serving and place on top of a memorable dollop of celeriac puree.
Serve with seasonal veg of your choice.
* M - Mum
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