One Fat Man

Scallops and Bacon Simple Pilgrim Style - St James, 25th July

St James is traditionally associated with shellfish. The greatest sign of this is the scallop shell the pilgrims traditionally brought back from Santiago to prove that they'd completed the 'camino'. This shell has now become a general emblem of pilgrimage, a sign that someone is on a journey, or has completed one. Indeed, perhaps we should all wear one of the things permanently, for what is life but a pilgrimage? But enough of such cliches...

James' association with the scallop comes from the legend that when his tomb was being moved from Judea to Galicia by his disciples - for no apparent reason save to set up a lucrative shrine in Spain - they were shipwrecked and James' coffin emerged out of the water absolutely fine, but covered in scallop shells. These shells are of course a common sight on Galician beaches and probably struck many a pilgrim drying off after taking a dip as a nice thing to take home for the wife, or even as a useful thing to use as a cup, bowl or sundry utensil, on the journey home.

In Chambers' Book of Days (Edinburgh, 1868) there is a jolly extract from Erasmus' Pilgrimages which gives an account of the scallop shell. Someone meets a pilgrim (who is clearly not much different from the average package tourist) and the dialogue is thus:

'What country has sent you safely back to us, covered with shells, laden with tin and leaden images, and adorned with straw necklaces, while your arms display a row of serpents' eggs'?'

'I have been to St. James of Compostella,' replies the pilgrim.

'What answer did St. James give to your professions?'

'None; but he was seen to smile, and nod his head, when I offered my presents; and then held out to me this imbricated shell.'

'Why that shell rather than any other kind?'

'Because the adjacent sea abounds in them.'

The pilgrims probably ate the scallops too, abounding as they did in the adjacent sea and in season just in time for St James' feast on 25th July.

Indeed, queen scallops are perfectly in season in the UK at the moment, and so what better than a simple recipe for scallops and bacon? This is one lily that really doesn't need gilding.

Your most important ingredient is a cast iron skillet. Fry strips of good smoked streaky bacon in the skillet, starting on a moderate heat. When the bacon is just starting to crisp set it aside. Fry the scallops in the bacon fat for a couple of minutes, adding a little smoked paprika. Put the scallops on a serving plate, and give the bacon a final frazzle in the pan on high. Add the bacon to the plate and pop on some chopped fresh chilli, and coriander. Serve as a sharing starter... or fry up on a camp stove when stopped for the night on a pilgrimage.

Of course, this year the feast of St James is a Friday - which I didn't think about when preparing this recipe a couple of weeks in advance of blogging - so you could either leave the bacon out or ignore this recipe entirely and go and eat an oyster... Because even though there is no 'r'  in the month there is an old proverb which runs that 'whoever eats and oyster on St James' day will never want for money'. I'm certainly up for testing that one out.

Drop Scones with Caramel Bramley Apple Sauce and Greek Yoghurt - St Swithin's Day

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.