Vegging out

I’m writing this missive while on holiday on our farm… Yes, I’m one of those lucky sods who has a farm in Ah-fricaa. Well, strictly speaking the bank owns it, but possession is nine tenths of the law so I’m alright for now.

As luck would have it, we unwittingly chose a very small hamlet that’s home to many of SAB’s hops, fabulous Herold Wines, a smattering of kindly folk all worth knowing, and the most fertile soil imaginable.

I’m a very enthusiastic part-time farm girl with a vegetable garden so prolific and perfect that on each visit I am reduced to tears as soon as I step through its gate. This summer broad beans were my singleminded mission. I adore broad beans; well at least I was almost certain I did, but could never quite be sure. Their exorbitant prices at local supermarkets and farm stalls prohibited me from actually eating more than a few added to a spring chicken hot-pot or something similar – hardly what I was after. I wanted to eat broad beans until I could eat no more, try every recipe I ever imagined and just pig out. And, believe me, I have. And yes, happily, I was right – I adore them. They’re sweet, mellow, smooth, creamy and both beautiful to eat and look at.

The first dish I made was a rather marvellous pasta, the type of thing I’m sure they serve in the quaint stone farmhouses that dot quiet dirt roads in Tuscany – and if they don’t they really should! It was a tumble of freshly picked and podded broad beans and peas, out-of-the-earth onion, garlic and squeaky spinach all braised in a light chicken stock with liberal glugs of olive oil and finished off with loads of freshly grated Parmesan. Naturally it needed a suitably wonderful wine – this was after all my début broad bean moment, the dream of many a month – and as all but the pasta came from the area, I felt it only good and decent to pop up to my neighbours Vivien and Bruce Harpur at Herold Wines (tel 073 833 8223) to see what they had on offer.

Now Vivien is a bit of a greenie, a vegetarian, avid recycler and all that goes with it. I explained my needs and her response was, “Well, you must try it with our Pinot.” With Pinot in hand, talk moved to vegetable gardens and all things vegetarian. “I am finally making some 100% vegetarian wines,” she proudly announced. I nodded politely and wondered if the country air was affecting her in some way. “Vegetarian?” I prodded with as straight a face as I could muster.

Actually, it turns out that many wines are clarified with fish bladder (isinglass) or cow bits (gelatine). Vivien began by using egg white – eggs, she informs me, qualify as vegetarian because no animal was harmed or killed to retrieve them. Being the kind of woman she is, she naturally went to extreme lengths to ensure they were free-range eggs – and this is easier said than done in George, where all things free-range are in very short supply. She’s now gone one step further and clarifies with clay (bentonite).

“Vegan?” I ask. She’s quick to tell me that vegan classification is a minefield “because of the different yeasts we use”. Okay, I think 100% vegetarian is just fine… I for one had never considered whether or not my wine might be carnivorous in any way and, while I am a happy meat eater, I’d like to think my wine was, well, just fruit, if you know what I mean.

That’s the kind of woman she is – and she’s my neighbour. And, after learning all this, undoubtedly my NBF. So that’s what it’s like to be a farm girl; every day is filled with something warm and fuzzy… New life, new friends, new vegetables and new lessons. If I hang in here a bit there might even be a new me…