Tuesday 4 June 2013

falling through the floor

The hallway has always been a bit bouncy but recently it was getting very bouncy, verging on soft with the distinct feeling that it was just the cheap vinyl that was holding it together.  On Saturday an urge for action overtook me (along with the idea that this was a task C might be able to get involved in) and we started ripping the whole thing apart.  This sounds quite vigorous but, in reality, most of the floorboards (and joists) crumbled in our hands through a combination of woodworm (where it was dry) and rot (where it was wet).  The original joists (and their 1970s replacements) had been laid directly on the earth and, this being the west coast of Scotland with the highest incidence of horizontal rain known to man, the earth was always going to be damp.

Half the floor has been removed (along with the pervasive smell of damp) and we're now starting to think about sourcing timber replacements (the ideal of a concrete floor will have to wait awhile), laying them in place and patching up the internal t&g lining.  At least we have plenty of material for edging the vegetable beds.

Alas (or possibly Hurrah) this was the task that forced C to face the fact that he's getting on a bit and if specifying timber joists is beyond him then he shouldn't really be building an expensive prototype wind turbine that he doesn't understand (even if it does give him the opportunity to buy lots of shiny things).  He's sent out an announcement that he's stopping work on it and, although he's sent these out before, I think he might mean it.  He's very subdued at the minute but, with a luxury break planned for this weekend, he'll get a fillip of fine food and good company.

The garden is still struggling with the cold spring and subsequent dry spell (as ever the opium poppies are doing marvellously) as well as vigorous attacks on the fruit trees by attractive yet evil gold finches.  I gave the salad crops a good talking to whilst I watered them and hope that this will do the trick.  The seedlings have started coming away so we'll have cauliflower (posh violet!) and broccoli to go in when the potatoes come out and parsley, dill and chervil to bulk out the herb bed.  In a rush of blood to the head I bought some exotic herbs from seeds of Italy in the hope of adding architectural splendour to the herb bed but the angelica is proving rather reticent.

The stalwarts of potatoes (Anya and Charlotte) are doing great (as they should after all that double-digging care and seaweed was lavished on them) and my thoughts have turned to Calmac's summer recipe challenge for their on-board cafeteria.  Potatoes are an obvious choice but, as any true islander will tell you, potatoes must be dry.  We betray our effete metropolitan nature by only planting waxy potatoes but these do allow us to make some quite superb rosti.  So here's a quick potatoe cake to use the last of the stored potatoes and the first of the wild garlic.

ramson rosti
for two people

3 medium sized potatoes, peeled and grated
good handful of wild garlic (ramson) finely shredded
salt and pepper

heat a tablespoonful of oil in a heavy frying pan; mix the ingredients together (with your hands is easiest); form it into a rough ball and press down into the pan when the oil is hot, turn down the heat immediately and place a lid over the pan; cook for ten minutes then (carefully) turn the cake out onto a plate or board and slide it, uncooked side down, back into the pan; cover and cook for a further ten minutes.

Serve with poached egg, ham, sausage, cheese or whatever takes your fancy