Yesterday was St. Swithin's Day, the feast of that great harbinger of rain, a saint whose association with the weather firmly aligns him with everything that is truly and honestly British in spirit.
But who on earth was he?
Swithin was an Anglo-Saxon bishop of Winchester, a good and humble man. When he died he requested to be buried outside, where people could see his grave and the rain could fall on it. This duly happened, and he remained in peace until in 971 when the monks decided to move him indoors to a swanky new shrine. Apparently, as they were digging him up, it started to rain. This is to where some trace the legend that the British press comments upon without fail every year - that if it rains on St Swithin's Day there will be rain for 40 days, and that if it doesn't it will be clear for 40 days.
It was sunny yesterday. I'm not holding my breath.
As far as anyone knows the legend has never played out. So quite why it's gained such traction is a mystery. My own theory is simply that speculating about the weather at this time of year is normal. We are looking forward to harvest, and perhaps in St Swithin's legend is the earlier history of pagan gods of weather and harvest being angry or happy - and the harvest being good or bad.
Indeed, St Swithin is connected with a particular harvest - the apple crop. If it rained on St Swithin's Day it was said that he was christening the apples. The heavy rainfall this traditionally heralded suggested the necessary water would be there for the apples to grow big and juicy. The very earliest of the apples would start to be eaten around St Swithin's Day - but never before it.
So the pagan harvest-god theory isn't that bonkers.
For St Swithin I decided to make something with apples, naturally. But the only English apples really ready at the moment are the Bramleys, the great king of cooking apples. Sadly they aren't that useful for anything but crumbles and sauces as they tend to dissolve to mush. So I thought a sweet caramel apple sauce would be nice... but apple sauce has to go on something.
This led me to think about eggs. Now Swithin's headlining act was a little trick he worked for the Winchester egg-woman --- you know her I'm sure. For those who don't, the story goes like this; there was an old woman in Winchester, crossing a bridge, with her basket of eggs. Some workmen - all rotters - started teasing her and broke her eggs. It could have ended sadly, but Swithin saw it all, and restored the old woman's eggs. Day saved. Omlette for supper.
Or not omlette... but perhaps drop scones. Drop scones with a nice caramel bramley apple sauce, and then perhaps some (full fat) yoghurt, a little honey, some flaked almonds, and the wispiest wisp of cinnamon to freshen it all up.
To make the drop scones you'll need to make a normal batter.
- 4 1⁄2 oz) self-raising flour
- 2 tsp caster sugar
- 1 egg, beaten
- 2 tbsp melted unsalted butter
- 150 ml semi-skimmed milk
Whisk that all up and leave it for a while to be with its thoughts. In the meantime peel, core and slice (thickly) two large English Bramley apples. Put these in a wide heavy based pan with about 4 tbspns of butter and the same of sugar (I favour caster but you might want something darker), and a little water. Cook over a low heat until the apples start to break down and it all starts to thicken and caramelise. Avoid stirring as it will make the sugar crystalise and the apples break up - it's nice to have some chunks. Lightly shake the pan instead. You can do all this in advance and then leave it.
When ready to make the scones (if you're American you might want to call them pancakes) heat a pan/griddle relatively hot and use a little butter or light oil (less is more here). Then drop in tablespoons of the batter and wait until bubbles form, then flip and leave for about 30 seconds. Then plate up.
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