Making plans

October 30, 2008

I am in black-out darkness and a bell clangs somewhere. Relief. It’s not some stress induced nightmare. I’m in Olhao to finalise details and submit plans for the ‘room on top’. It’s half-term. Already? it seems only like yesterday that school started. As morning confusion clears I swing out of bed onto cool stone and pad upstairs to the roof and watch a man tending his birds and a luminous sun rising against a skyline of tv aerials and cubist terraces.
We’re following the Olhao tradition of making more space by building vertically. There are now height restrictions in the historic part where the house is but the white cube is within the permitted ceiling. I have decided to apply for a building licence and avoid blotting my copybook with the town hall. Planning permission takes much longer than in the UK, and I should be prepared to wait up to six months, maybe longer, but hopefully less. I feel very confident with the team: the architect understands how to build something new but in the spirit of the old; the builder is like a gracious old uncle, and knows traditional techniques like the back of his hand.

Although we’re using energy saving materials, such as reclaimed tiles, and natural paint, I have backtracked on the solar panel and opted for electricity to power a small water heater and a couple of sockets. I reckon that for the amount of hot water needed it is not worth the expense of a solar panel, and although I would be content in a candlelit retreat, or reading by solar powered lamp , guests might prefer the normal way of illumination.

Portuguese is testing, and I go everywhere clutching a dog eared pocket dictionary. I left it behind this morning and instead of locating the ‘Conservatoria’ to buy a copy of the ‘ Registo Predial’ title deeds, strayed into the ‘Pal?¬?cio Justi??üa’ humming with knots of rather fierce and serious dark eyed fishermen, waiting for the results of a trial. As well as getting to grips with the planning related lingo, I must work on my strangled hybrid of Portuguese/ English/Spanish with other important locals, like man of all trades, Luis. This involves much gesticulating on both parts, with Luis , knowing that he has the upper hand on the verbals, typically declaring that the job is going to take longer and he needs more euros, etc. etc. In mitigation, he often stops by on his bike, with dog Picant in tow, and a bucket of sardines for us, so fresh they’re almost swimming.

After all the linguistic brain stretching it’s time to go around the corner for a bica, espresso coffee and a pastel de nata, egg custard tart. A boxful is an essential luggage item on the return trip.

ARTICHOKE SOUP
I am in soup mode, back home in London, having swapped hot sun for night frosts. Knobbly Jerusalem artichokes are in season and their creamy fresh-from-the earth-flavour is what makes this soup so moreish:
Wash, roughly peel and chop lkg Jerusalem artichokes.
Put in a large pan and saute in l00g butter until quite soft
Add 2 litres water
Bring to the boil and simmer for 20 minutes
Liquidise the mixture and serve with dollops of creme fraiche.

SEWING

The clocks have gone back and we have to learn to appreciate the violet qualities of twilight, that seems to begin not long after lunch. Is it possible that only three weeks ago I was enjoying the last bracing swims of the season at the lido? Now the park shuts at 4.30pm. Time though to catch up on all those sewing repairs which are lying in a large heap. I’ll also get down to giving one or two or my more tired blankets a new lease of life , After gentle laundering with a wool friendly eco detergent, I hide any ragged edges with satin binding and add strips of bright velvet ribbon, pink and green is a great combination, in rows or criss cross patterns. (See below, from my book Sew Easy.) The effect, is very bo-ho, very laid back, and of course, a brilliant way to wrap up and keep warm.

Home sweet home

October 15, 2008

Hard times make houses into homes. I’m hoping we’ll see less of city banker style: perfectly good houses extended and interior designed to death and then sold on to make big fat profits. Bring on the recession. Houses are reverting from assets to homes: they have skips outside because owners are staying put instead of making a fast buck and moving on.

As money gets tighter we should automatically start asking ourselves “Do I need this, or do I just want it?” It’s thus for you to decide whether to invest in the new combined hardback edition of Pure Style Home & Garden. Ok, I’m on dodgy ground here, and certainly wouldn’t be so conceited as to think that it is a necessity, but if you don’t have the earlier Pure Style and Pure Style Outside titles, this has hundreds of thrifty and simple home ideas which help save money without forsaking looks and style. Let me know what you think.

Home work

photo/vanessa courtier

It’s important to hide the custard creams if you’re a easily distracted home worker like me. Go for some healthy oatcakes, which can be thrown together with out difficulty:

Add 270g medium oatmeal, one quarter teaspoon baking soda, and a pinch of salt to a bowl. Make a well and pour in 2 dessert spoonfuls of melted butter and 164 ml water. Mix to a stiff paste with a wooden spoon. Knead with the hands and roll out thinly as possible. Cut into circles or triangles and bake in the oven at 200C 400f for 20 to thirty minutes. Makes about 20.

Paris Hilton has paparazzi. So do I: the dog and the cat, who sit or lie with their eyes boring into my back willing me to their food bowls. The dog follows me upstairs, downstairs, to the washing machine, to the bin, back to my desk and so on. When I hit a dead end on the thoughts front I get out into the garden to plant or dig. (Psychologists say that continuous small achievement is the key to happiness). The dog and the cat come too. This morning I planted white wallflowers, hoping they will smell as scented as the mixed colours I usually choose. The dog hung around my spade hoping for a stone to be thrown. The cat watched, eerily balanced on the fence. The rose bushes are thinning with few blooms, like a frail and fragrant aunt. I wonder if enough heat can be squeezed out of the sun to ripen the rest of the tomatoes. I do know a good recipe for green tomato jam.

A visual tonic

October 7, 2008

The park glittered in the still clearness during my early morning dog walk; the light as intense as the sweet liquorice smell from the dried fennel sprig I picked and crushed in my hand. The autumn fall of leaves this year is a breathtaking chemical wonder of nature, suspending belief that summer is over. So much colour. So many variations on yellow, burnt orange and brown. This visual tonic is more energising than herbal Floradix, the liquid plant food for humans, that my friend Bea swears by when she needs perking up.

I say ‘day-lee-a ‘ you say ‘dah-lee-uh’. Whatever the emphasis, dahlias are another last blast of gorgeous autumn colour before the dankness begins. This native Mexican flower imported two hundred years ago has always been a mainstay of the allotment garden, to pick for the table along with the cabbages and beans. I remember grandpa, fag in mouth, carefully tying his prize purple spiky blooms to stakes with green hairy string. In high-up garden circles though, the frilly dahlia was long considered rather vulgar. I’m glad the style bibles and garden columns have made them acceptable again in and outside the vegetable patch, and there are a wonderful array of varieties for any border or pot. On of my favourites is ‘Noreen’ a flirty rich pink pompom shape.

keeping warm

Got to think about keeping out all those beastly draughts this winter, as I don’t want a repeat of the heating bill we ran up last year, especially when energy costs are supposed to rise another whopping 40 percent. Something thick and sensible, but nonetheless good looking, like a curtain lined with a blanket,is going to be a good way to deal with the gale that blows in under the front and side doors. There is a very basic pattern for one, using some tough pink corduroy in my book Sew Easy. It’s based on the same lines as the old insulating curtains we found in the house when we first moved here.

chocolate and chestnut cake

I know I’ve posted this recipe before, but it is too, too delicious, and, because chestnuts are gluten-free, might inspire anyone who has an intolerance and is missing gooey cakes. I admit to being partisan but you must try the peeled organic chestnuts my husband produces at his little factory in Andalucia, South Western Spain

Base:400g peeled chestnuts, 125g caster sugar, 125g chocolate (min 70% cocoa solids), 100g butter
Icing: 15g butter, 125g chocolate, as above, 15ml fresh orange juice, 1 teaspoon grated lemon rind
Process peeled chestnuts and sugar until smooth. Melt chocolate and butter in a large saucepan. Add chestnut/sugar paste and mix until smooth. Turn into a greased cake tin. Icing: melt the chocolate with butter, orange juice, rind, and stir until smooth. Spread over the mixture and chill in the fridge overnight.