Episode 4 What to Eat Now

My name is Valentine Warner - chef by trade, greedy by nature.

I love food and I love eating it when it's absolutely at its best.

Wow.

Having grown up on a farm, I've learned that eating things

in season means you get them at their tastiest.

This is an utterly delicious beetroot.

Tonight, I'll be taking you through my ultimate guide to mouth-watering autumn fruits.

Cooking an experimental crumble with a really juicy collection of plums.

Oh, yeah. Go on, then.

Tasting the most divine apples, hot off the press.

Wow!

And making a delicious tart with some of the most inedible pears in the country.

Killer, isn't it?

Now is the time of year when our native fruit really delivers.

Hedgerows are bursting, orchards laden, there's plenty to go around.

But it's the versatility of autumn fruit that really excites me, eaten fresh off the branch.

Or cold stored, bottled and jarred to take us through the fallow period of winter.

Of all of the autumn orchard fruits in this country, the British plum has the shortest season.

It's a delight you should savour right now.

Plums start arriving from late summer

but they really make me think of autumn,

drowsy wasps in winey smelling orchards.

I realise it's time again to start cooking crumbles,

plum cobblers and delicious jams and compotes to put on porridge.

Today, I'm in plum paradise.

Home to the largest collection of fruit trees in the world,

Brogdale Horticultural Trust in Kent is a living library,

dedicated to the conservation and research of fruit.

There are 350 species of plum in this orchard alone.

To make the most out of my visit,

I'm enlisting the help of head tour guide Ted Hobday.

Ted?

Hello, there. Nice to see you.

What an amazing place. Absolutely.

It's groaning with plums.

Plum central. Try one for a start.

Is this to get me in the zone?

Yeah. Mmm. Mmm.

It's very, very delicious.

Bad weather during a flowering season has resulted in a poor crop this year.

Mmm!

But it still looks like an awful lot of plums to me,

and I'm going to do my darnedest to sample as many as I can.

TED CHUCKLES Damsons tend to be like that, don't they?

I'm in total heaven here.

That's a Denbigh. How many have we got to go?

Only 346.

I accept no responsibility for your stomach.

Next. This is Gordon Castle, a good Scottish plum.

It's kind of fat, incredibly juicy, and sweet

and look at the colour of it.

What I don't understand is

that there are so many amazing plums to eat.

As a country we don't really see them around?

I'm just so sad we get so few varieties in the shops.

Indeed, few of the wonderful plums at Brogdale will be found

in your local supermarket,

because they don't make the commercial grade.

Deemed not fruitful enough, too disease-prone or just outside of popular taste.

Wow.

That is kind of like grapey and apricoty.

Don't despair, as you should find a good selection

of tasty tree-ripened fruit at farm shops and farmers' markets.

This is victory. It's an English plum.

Phwoar! Go on, then.

I tell the ladies to bend forward when they eat it.

Oh, really.

I don't know about ladies leaning forward, you need to.

It's actually sexy if they don't lean forward.

Well, exactly, but yes, all right. We'll say no more.

With such a dizzying array of plums, this seems the perfect opportunity

to experiment with one of my favourite autumn puddings, plum crumble.

I don't know whether to go with a single variety or include a few of the bitter types I like -

go sweet, mix it up, I'm in a real kind of plum dilemma at the moment.

In the neighbouring orchard, fruit expert Dave Pennell has been

conducting trials to find the next big thing in plums.

Hi, Dave. Hi.

I'm hoping his trees will provide the raw inspiration

to make an experimental crumble of epic quality.

In the interests of my crumble

I want a big, fat juicy plum but I'd like a bit of bitterness.

You are one of those awkward people, aren't you?

Yeah. This one is a variety from Canada and it's a big blue plum.

It's fat. Much more elongated.

Can I have a bite? You can have a nibble of that.

That is absolutely amazing.

Perfect.

Dave's next suggestion, Marjorie's Seedling, is a well-known

all-rounder that can be found in good greengrocers and supermarkets.

Six of those, please.

Are you giving me another whopper or another tiddler size? It's gonna be a whopper.

Wow.

That is something really different. What's this called?

That's just a number, that's 90.

Come in, number 90. That is an exceptional plum.

You had three hits. I told you what I wanted...

and you gave me three corkers.

Do you know, I have almost reached plum saturation point.

I don't think I can take one more.

I've totally overdone it on the plums.

I had to have a little lie down. Er...

I actually feel sick.

An hour later, I'm ready to hit the kitchen with tour guide Ted,

along with my somewhat experimental plums.

We start by cutting the flesh off the stones.

So Ted... Brogdale autumn plum crumble.

Good warming sticky, hot comfort.

The best dessert that there is.

I like custard with my plum crumble.

I have to say, I'm from the cream school.

Can I ask you to scatter one big spoonful of sugar?

Heaped or otherwise?

Heaped. Yeah. No half-measures here.

OK. That should do it.

Quite often I put a bit of lemon in my crumble to help out

slightly less exciting plums. But these are so distinctive... Less exciting?

No, exactly what I'm saying. They're so distinctive that it would almost be an insult.

The crumble topping is very simple. Flour, with a little brown sugar and a few chunks of cool, hard butter.

If you don't have a food processor, use your fingertips

to rub everything together until it resembles breadcrumbs.

Lastly, Ted, some oats. Oats.

This makes it crunchy and stops it all sticking together.

You're making my mouth begin to water already. Good, good, good.

We wanted it properly crunchy.

Finally, the plum-laden crumble goes into a medium hot oven.

After 45 minutes, it's crispy on top and bubbling. Hot autumn magma.

Ted, crumble.

It looks delicious. Let's hope it is.

I hope it is. I've relented. You've got custard.

I just made you custard. Can I give you some good crunchy bit here? You give me a good crunchy bit.

I've included so many plums and they're so juicy that my crumble has slightly sunk, I'm afraid.

Thank you. The colour is amazing. It certainly looks first class.

Mm. Yes.

Yes.

Yum, yum.

A good crumble should have a little bit of a kick to it. Yeah.

The texture, the taste and the tanginess,

for want of a better word, is just right.

Thanks to you and thanks to the Brogdale plums.

I think four helpings is enough for me.

In autumn, there's an abundance of fantastic fruit

in the shops and markets.

So now's the time to take advantage

of this cheap and bountiful supply and get preserving.

Cooking jams, compotes, and chutneys

is a great way of ensuring

a year-long supply of your favourite fruit.

One I love most has to be apple and pear chutney.

Start off by chopping a couple of onions.

This is an intense chutney.

I don't like them wishy-washy, I like them dark and moody.

Add a little sunflower oil to the pan and throw them in.

What I want those to do is get a little bit burny.

It gives that extra bit of depth. It gives it more attitude.

Next, sprinkle in a tablespoon of yellow mustard seeds,

some heady cloves and a few black peppercorns.

And then peel your apples and pears and chop.

Don't cut them too big otherwise they might be troublesome

when trying to jam them in a sandwich.

Good apple. Mm.

Throw the fruit into the pot

and add equal quantities of malt vinegar and white wine vinegar.

That might seem very extreme and very tart.

But it is now going to be mellowed by the sugar.

Use rich muscovado sugar for a dark deep taste and colour.

Raisins.

Chop a hunk of ginger and add to the pot.

It gives it that heat.

Finally, add salt and mix well.

I'm already thinking about pieces of pink ham falling away

from the joint and bits of tangy cheese that make you go...

Really bitey cheddar

with a fat dollop of chutney sitting next to it.

Autumn apple and pear chutney.

Bring the mixture up to a simmer and cook for about 45 minutes.

And that is just smelling really sweet and tangy and delicious.

Once the chutney has cooled, spoon into jars,

stick on your label and try to resist tucking in

for at least a couple of months

when the flavours will have developed fully.

Next on my preserving safari is figs and syrup.

Wash your figs and cut off the tops.

I think figs are one of my favourite fruit.

You burst them open to that incredible red inside.

They're sexy things.

Make four small cuts in each fig to allow the syrup to permeate inside.

Fit snugly into a pan and add water.

Enough to just cover them.

And then for sweetness, add sugar and three generous tablespoons of luscious honey.

And one for cookie.

Finally, the secret ingredient, orange blossom water.

The smell is just kind of warm nights in Arabia.

It's just phenomenal. Really, really flowery.

You could actually just slap it on and go out for the evening.

So just a few little drops in there.

Put the pan on to simmer and cook until the figs are tender enough

for a knife to sink straight in.

Gently spoon into a jar and cover with the sweet aromatic syrup.

Delicious flopped into the middle of a bowl of morning porridge

or eaten with yoghurt.

Yum.

As a nation, we eat nearly five billion apples a year.

And right now, our home-grown varieties are at their best

and most abundant, perfect for puddings, chutneys and juices.

Of our many commercial orchards, Ampleforth's ancient Benedictine abbey is England's most northerly.

I have always thought of monks as being incredibly well fed.

I've come to Yorkshire to cook a hot apple pudding that will hopefully

keep them in the style they're accustomed to.

With only 80 monks,

Ampleforth no longer has the manpower for self-sufficiency.

But in autumn, its 2,000 tree apple orchard

comes well and truly into its own, and it's looked after by one man.

Father Rainer, the man who does good things to apples. Good morning.

How are you? Very well indeed. You made it up to our lovely spot here.

I made it up. Father Rainer was a chef and a doctor before finding his vocation as a monk ten years ago.

With an ageing community of brothers, he relies heavily

on volunteers like me to bring in the autumn apple harvest.

If you want to pick up one of these.

That's a good bit of kit. Yes. It is.

I'm your donkey.

Ah, you're my little helper, Santa's little helper.

Santa's little helper.

Let's get on and do some serious collection.

With 46 apple varieties, the monks are kept in fruit

from the end of July right through to the New Year.

Those apples that are not good enough to eat will be sold at market

and made into cider and cider brandy.

Let me show you these. They are just at the right time.

If they're just coming off the branch by lifting it up gently,

then you know that they're ripe. It offers itself to you.

Do you like it? I like it a lot.

It's got a tartness to it but it's got a lot of sugar in it too.

Grown without any chemical interference,

these apples may not look as polished as the ones

on your supermarket shelves, but they're tree ripe and super tasty.

Well done.

The important thing about picking is that you don't have to pick fast.

We pick here with the apples in mind and with the tree in mind.

This bud is next year's apple.

So if you are picking carefully,

then these buds are protected and you have a good crop next year.

It's quite important to be measured.

This is very conducive for contemplation,

because it's so repetitive, after a while, you find your rhythm quite easily.

And having your hands holding on to the natural world as well is presumably a good thing.

The whole thing comes together. When you then hear the birds sing,

it all filters in and makes you feel that you are part of creation.

Mm-hmm.

Sorry, I've just lost one to the ground, I'm afraid.

Before I get going on my apple dessert, there's time to take in the abbey's cider press.

There we are.

Wow, you get hit by a wall of cidery apple smell.

But Father Rainer's making it pretty clear he's not just brought me here on a jolly.

You could go to the car and you could get the apples out of the car.

Now, pour them straight in.

Mind your ears.

The apples are washed and drawn up into the shredder at the same time.

It's only seconds before the first irresistible dribbles of juice arrive.

Wow!

The blood of the orchards.

The shredded apple or pumice drops into a lined frame

and is parcelled up before the next loads are sandwiched on top.

We're just turning it around.

Yeah.

And then we just press it upwards.

All of the juice will come out.

It would be five months before this sweet apple juice cascade becomes full-blown Ampleforth cider

ready for sale direct from the abbey and local markets.

You see it's nice and spritzy.

Are you going to have a small...?

No, because I will have to go to mass now.

Wow. It's very dry.

It's very crispy.

It's very, very delicious. Good.

I think I've earned it.

Oh, you certainly did. You worked so hard. Yes!

When mass is over, Father Rainer and I hit the kitchen with our apples.

Scarlet browny.

I'm making apple charlotte, a classic autumn pud that is a real comfort after a hard day's work.

You've got good kit.

You are a very modern father.

Absolutely, yes.

For my charlotte filling, I'm adding chopped apples to a pan with a glug of ginger syrup.

For added sweetening, a sprinkling of caster sugar and then a little water.

To perk up the apple sauce, I'm adding delicious slithers of warming stem ginger.

For the outer casing, I'm painting white bread with clarified butter

and lining a small basin before spooning in the apple and ginger filling.

How do you keep the lid from being spewed out by the apples?

All will be revealed. Secrets.

Yeah. This is some cardboard wrapped in tin foil.

And then one of your good rocks.

And that's it. That's it.

What you are looking for is for the bread to go really crisp.

Father Rainer has invited fellow apple enthusiast Father Bonaventure to join us for pudding.

After 40 minutes, I'm praying my apple charlotte will be perfect.

Turn it out.

Wow. That smells delicious.

Here's your pudding, fathers.

Yes. Apple charlotte.

It looks very promising.

No apple charlotte is complete... Without cream.

A large spoonful of clotted cream.

There's no polite way of cutting it up.

It just involves smashing, fighting your way in.

You are quite right, it isn't polite. Squidgy.

The apple charlotte is very good indeed.

Delicious. Sumptuous.

It's very nice. Well, your apples have done us proud this afternoon.

It's no secret apple and slow roast pork are a marriage made in heaven.

Here's a deliciously quick pork chop alternative for one of my favourite autumn suppers.

Peel, core and slice an apple.

Sprinkle with sugar and a little salt and lay on some loving butter.

Next, heat some vegetable oil with a little more butter.

Season your pork chop and place in a hot, sizzling pan.

After three minutes, carefully add your sliced apple.

And turn over your chop to brown the other side.

And then introduce the pork and apple to a hot oven to cook through.

After ten minutes, remove from the oven and take the chop out to rest.

In its place, add another classic pork accompaniment, sensational savoury sage.

When the apple has turned a wonderful golden brown,

place it sticky-side-up next to its perfect partner

and top the pork chop with crispy sage.

Scrumptious pork chop with caramelised apples and sage.

There may be an endless choice of fruit available to us year round in our shops,

but now is the time to savour

bountiful home-grown British fruit at its best.

The pear is my quintessential autumn fruit.

I just can't wait for them to come into season.

Satisfaction is pear juice dripping off the chin.

I'm in Dymock in Gloucestershire to meet Charles Martell,

pear expert and artisan cheesemaker since 1972.

Hi, Charles. Are you all right?

Very nice to meet you.

Finally, a fellow pear fanatic?

We've got pears.

And cheesemaker extraordinaire? Yeah.

In recent years, Charles's Stinking Bishop cheese

has become a cult classic, but what is his secret?

Believe it or not, it comes from his orchards in the form of perry,

the pear equivalent to cider, which he uses to wash his cheese.

You have to ask, why do I wash it in perry?

I'm going to ask you, why do you wash it in perry?

The answer is to make the cheese smell.

Because you get this nice flavour but the smell is caused by a bacteria which grows in the presence of perry.

Because of the name Stinking Bishop, people associate it with the cheese

but it's actually the name of the perry pear that you use.

One of the perry pears is named after a man called Bishop.

Pears and cheese, what a combination.

It's given me a great idea for a dish. A delicious savoury tart.

But super sharp and rock hard,

these perry pears are not meant for eating.

Can I try a perry pear to see what happens?

They will blow your taste buds for the rest of the day.

I'm made of stronger stuff.

It's not even ripe.

Careful. Oh God.

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

That's very bitter, it has that dry thing.

But I really don't mind it. I love chicory and I love dark chocolate.

Oh, dear.

It's going to take more than one sour pear to put me off my favourite fruit.

It turns your face inside out, that one.

It does seem hard but I'm going to give it a go anyway.

It's like crab apple. Not so bad. It's a killer, isn't it?

I'm hoping Charles is saving the best until last.

This is the old Thorn pear. And how old would a tree like this one be? About 1830.

Um, this is the kind of taste that you don't experience any more in the supermarket fruit.

This has got something very old world about it.

I think it would be very good for cooking, this one.

I've chosen my favourite but Charles wants me to try his, the Dymock Red.

Oh, look at the colour when they're wet. Wow!

It tastes like blackberries. What do you think in your tart, do you think it will be nice?

I think that would be pretty delicious actually. Oh, lovely, I'm so glad.

I'm very, very excited about cooking with these pears.

I particularly love the Thorn and Charles's Red Dymock.

But conference pears and comice pears widely bought

all over the country are also very good for this recipe.

Fat, luxury knob of butter.

And now for the Thorn pears.

And it seems only right

to add a little of the delicious perry to them.

And by putting the perry in with the pears, everything that's been seen

today on the farm has been included in the tart.

Now, I'm going to add a good sprinkling of sugar.

It's very tempting to rush them at this stage. They shouldn't be.

You really want them to get some good dark burny bits on them.

And now it's the turn for the Red Dymocks to be fried.

Yum. Wow. Really sharp element.

And then the sugary taste. It's really fantastic.

I've made the short crust pastry for my tarts earlier,

although you can buy it ready-made.

Now they need to be filled with dried beans

or chickpeas and blind baked.

Now for the luxurious mix.

You want a good pinch of salt.

Single cream, as double would really be far too luxurious.

One whole egg.

And one yolk.

And then beat really thoroughly.

Perfect.

When the tart cases are golden brown I can crack open Charles's fantastic perry-washed cheese.

Ooh, wow!

I'm going to take some good...fat pieces.

Look at that. Look at that goo.

Wow-whee.

This would be very good

also with blue cheese like Roquefort or Dolce Latte.

And then there is the Thorn pear.

Top up the tart cases with the rich cream and egg mixture.

And then a good aerial blast of black pepper.

These little tartlets only need about ten minutes in a hot oven.

And then it's time for Charles and me

to see if our two perry pear choices hit the spot.

Wow. And it looks nice.

But now I must eat it.

Now you must eat it. The melted cheese, wow.

Ooh lovely...pastry, cheese and then the tang. Wow. The tang.

That's the Dymock Red.

It's got some catching up to do to keep up with that.

The pears are different, aren't they? They're very, very different.

Wow, it's got more flavour but less tang.

Cooking with these ingredients...

has been a total pleasure.

You've really opened my eyes. Those old perry pears, all we do is make perry with them.

But we've never thought to do something like this.

To perk up even the saddest of pears in your fruit bowl

try this fabulously simple recipe for poached pears.

Once peeled, place in a pan with bay leaf...

cinnamon stick, crushed cloves...

..fine slivers of ginger...

..and the peel and juice of an orange and lemon.

Grate in nutmeg.

And add caster sugar.

Followed by red wine,

and a good glug of brandy.

Poach the pears in this aromatic liquor for half an hour.

Remove from the pan and reduce the syrup until it has a lovely sticky consistency

and then generously pour over the pears

for a wonderfully sweet and spicy taste of autumnal fruit.

Yum. That's intense.

Next week I'm seeking out gorgeous game

in autumn's rich natural larder.

I'll be stalking and eating some of the finest venison in the country.

This is what it's all about, the fantastic venison.

Preparing partridge in the Moroccan style,

and getting inspired by the best autumn game of all.

Forget chicken, get into duck.

It's autumn, wild duck. Duck, duck!

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