A probiotic version of the classic cauliflower pickle; plus a simpler, but equally yellow, brine pickle version; my psychedelic experience in the Dreamachine
(Not up for the chitchat? Completely get it. Click the email title to go to a web-based version then jump straight to the recipes or Cultural Fun.)
It’s been a weird, upsetting week, hasn’t it? Awful events in the news and, here in London at least, the beautiful but unsettling October warmth. It seems odd to be talking about pickles at a time like this. But I’m going to do it anyway as a) I’m not sure what else to do at the moment beyond donating to emergency funds and b) food is a necessity but also a small pleasure so hopefully its contemplation or preparation can provide a moment of stillness or sympathy.
The unseasonal weather was at least a good setting for a guided George Fredenham aka Flavour Fred, a forager and wild food expert. He took a group of us across Hampstead Heath, pointing out all the mushrooms and other things just there for the eating. He had plenty of folklore knowledge too, for example informing us that (poisonous) yew trees were traditionally planted in graveyards to stop boars digging up the bodies. Really fascinating stuff.
I’ll definitely be picking some woodears and oyster mushrooms next time I see them although, even after George’s expert tuition, I’d be a little more circumspect about gathering less unambiguous fungi.
But I can’t wait to experiment with some of the other things he mentioned. The dried seeds of common hogweed smell exactly like orange flavoured Tic Tacs and would be a great dessert garnish or spice. The plant is related to algelica and apparently similar seeds are used in Persian cooking where it’s called golpar.
And Alexander seeds are easily gatherable too and make a great peppery seasoning. There were all sots of herbs including yarrow and wood avens that can be infused to make your own bitters and boozes. I feel a homemade, wild-foraged version of Campari may be coming on…
George does walks (as well as wild-foraged supper clubs) all over the country. If there’s one near you I really recommend it as I found a few hours with him really inspiring.
Piccalilli
Piccalilli seems divisive. Some people can’t get enough of its mustardy charms. Others are revoted by the almost luminous yellow glow. Apologies if you’re in the latter camp. Look away now and come back next week. I love me a bit of piccalilli. It goes perfectly with strong cheddar and I happen to think there’s no finer accompaniment for a pork pie.
If you want to convert a piccalilli hater who might have been put off by the gloopy, oversweet stuff you can get in supermarkets, try them on this probiotic version. My recipe is based on the one in Rachel de Thample’s River Cottage Fermentation Handbook which has some lovely things in it.
Method-wise, it’s a cross between kimchi and a brine pickle. As in kimchi, the vegetables get a good bath in brine (to kill off "bad bacteria and draw out water, keeping them crunchy) before getting coated in a flavoursome paste. once they’re in the jar, this is then topped up with brine, to cover them like pickles.
Even more than 300 years ago cauliflower seems to have been an important constituent so we’ll stick with that, especially since there seems to be one in my veg box almost every week at the moment. Onion is another constant of modern recipes with the rest usually made up of runner beans or courgettes, presumably as a way of using up late summer gluts. We’re a little past those now so I went with carrots and a red pepper that was hanging around. Plus some spring onions for a bit of greenery. But use what you have.
Recipe: Piccalilli
This makes roughly a 1l jar but scale up or down according to what you have. You need about 800g veg all together, about half of which should be cauliflower. I’m giving you what I used but this is very much a whatever-you-have to hand situation.
Ingredients
350g cauliflower, cut into bitesize florets
150g carrot, matchsticked
I onion (approx 100g), thinly sliced into half moons
1 red pepper (approx 100g), cut into bitesize pieces
I bunch spring onions (approx 100g), thinly sliced
40g salt
2 tsp coriander seeds
1 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp fennel seeds
2 tsp coarsely ground/cracked black peppercorns
1 tbsp mustard powder
2 tsp turmeric
1 tbsp cornflour
1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
1 tbsp sugar
bay leaves or vine leaves
Method
Put all the chopped veg in a large bowl.
Mix the salt with 500ml water (filtered if possible or boiled and left to cool - this gets rid of chlorine which is slightly antimicrobial so can make your ferments sluggish) and stir to dissolve. Pour this over the veg and leave overnight.
Drain the veg, reserving the brine.
Mix the spices, cornflour, sugar and vinegar with enough of the brine to make a loose paste and toss the vegetables in it so they are evenly coated.
Make sure your jar is scrupulously clean and pack in the veg. Pour over enough of the remaining brine to cover and top the jar with a few bay leaves or vine leaves.
Seal the jar and put it somewhere at room temperature out of direct sunlight.
Leave, burping and tasting occasionally for 1-2 weeks. When you are happy with the tanginess, move to the fridge.
Notes (If Ifs And Ands Were Pots And Pans…)
Obviously use whatever vegetables you have handy. I really like slices of runner bean here but it’s a little late in the year for them now. Late courgettes or chunks or squash would work well though. Green tomatoes or small whole onions also classic. The picture in the River Cottage book looks like Rachel de Thample is using romanesco cauliflower which I imagine would be wonderful.
I like the textural pop of whole spices but grind the seeds if you prefer a smoother finish.
Recipe: Turmeric Pickled Cauliflower
If piccalilli seems too involved then this is an easy cauliflower brine pickle that uses turmeric to get some of the same sunny yellow zing. Makes one 750ml jar but scale up for down as you like.
Ingredients
1 head cauliflower, cut into florets (reserve a couple of leaves if you don’t have a pickle weight)
6 garlic cloves
2 bay leaves
1 tbsp black peppercorns
2.5% brine (15g in 600ml water should be plenty)
1 tbsp ground turmeric
Method
Make sure your jar is scrupulously clean.
Put the cauliflower, garlic cloves, bay leaves and peppercorns in it.
Whisk the turmeric into the brine and pour it over the cauliflower. Add a pickle weight or a couple of cauliflower leaves to make sure everything stays submerged. Seal the jar.
Leave at room temperature, somewhere out of direct sunlight, “burping” the jar and tasting every few days. Move the cauliflower to the fridge when it is at your favoured degree of tanginess. As long as you remembered to add the bay leaves, the florets should stay crunchy for several months.
Notes (If Ifs And Ands Were Pots And Pans…)
I just used the garlic, turmeric and black pepper but you could add in whatever other spices you fancier. Mustard and coriander seeds and a few slices of ginger would bring more piccalilli vibes without having to go the whole hog of making a paste.
Don’t forget the bay leaves. Without the tannins they provide, your pickles can go mushy. Fresh or dried is fine. Vine leaves work well too.
Cultural Fun
We went to the Dreamachine on Saturday. The what? Well yes. Let me try and explain.
It’s a modern version of a contraption invented by artist Brion Gysin in the late 1950s (he’s perhaps more famous as the chap who invented the “cut up” technique of writing poetry). The idea was to use flickering light to create illusions in the mind of the viewer. He was apparently inspired by a bus journey in which sunshine through foliage induced a trance-like state.
This incarnation of the Dreamachine was originally part of the weird collection of things brought together as Unboxed (the rebranded Festival of Brexit). It was based in Woolwich for a while then toured the country. Now it’s in Hackney. The Guardian described the Woolwich version as “as close to state-funded psychedelic drugs as you can get” which sounded kind of cool but also scared me a bit. I’ve never taken psychedelics. Or, more truthfully, I took some magic mushrooms in my 20s once but my friend turned out to have been sold a dud bag so nothing happened and I was secretly relieved.
We arrived and put our shoes and valuables in lockers. We were issued with slippers and shown through into a into a circular space with room for 12 people on a ring of low sofas. We reclined on these, with our heads between two speakers and told to close our eyes. We were taken through a breathing exercise before the lights went off and the (twingly-twangly hippy-vibes electronica) music started.
The whole thing is experienced with your eyes shut - we were reminded before it began that if we opened them, all we would see would be white strobe lights. Everything that we “saw” through our eyelids was just our brains response to these lights.
I saw mainly red and blue shapes, swirling around in a kaleidoscopic vision that was part MC Escher tessellation and part 90s rave visuals. Leaning more towards the ravey end of the spectrum to be honest. I was slightly disappointed that my subconscious was so cliched in its response. Or I suppose you could interpret it as the makers of psychedelic screen savers were right on the money?
I’m making light of it but it was actually a pretty intense experience and I would definitely go back and do it again. The young woman in charge of our session said she’d done it eight times and seen different things on each occasion.
Afterwards we were asked to draw our experiences and it was fascinating to see how different everyone’s interpretations were. Some common themes of tunnels, spiralling or square, but still totally different colours and emotions evoked by them. Outside there’s a gallery of pictures drawn by previous participants.
I’m still scared of psychedelics but would absolutely take another trip in the Dreamachine.
I finished listening to Going Infinite, Michael Lewis’s audio book about Sam Bankman Fried, and then went straight on to Judging Sam, the podcast covering his trial (an offshoot of Lewis’ own Against The Rules podcast which I really like). It’s such a strange case. He’s such a strange guy.
The book lost me a bit in the middle as crypto remains pretty impenetrable. Lewis is great at explaining complex systems to the layman but as he himself points out:“crypto often gets explained but never stays explained”. So I remain a little fuzzy on the exact nature of SBF’s crimes but am still riveted by the whole thing. There are such baffling sums of money involved: billions being casually tossed around. The book is good as a portrait of a guy who really doesn’t seem to be wired like anyone else. Whether this turns out to have made him capable of financial crimes remains to be seen…
Bye! See you soon!
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In Good Taste is a Sycamore Smyth newsletter by me, Clare Heal. You can also find me on Instagram or visit my website to find information about my catering work, cookery lessons and upcoming events.
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