slinkling

Thanks to dorinda, I've been introduced to the BBC's historical farm series, in which a historian and a couple of archeologists spend a year working a farm as it would have been worked in some historical period, ranging from WWII to the Tudor era. I really like them! They're not deep history, but seeing how things work in practice (what does it look like, feel like, smell like to thatch a roof? make cheese? light a coal range?) is fascinating, and the people doing it are delightful. It's generally the same three in all the series, with a couple others popping in -- I'm really sorry Chloe Spencer, who was in the first series, didn't return for the later ones, because I really liked her, and it was nice to see two women working together; after that it's just Ruth Goodman, the historian, with a couple of men. (Except that her daughter, a specialist in historical clothing, sometimes joins her, which is very fun!)

I love how the reenacters interact with each other. They all get along, and there's no manufactured tension, just occasional gentle joshing, as when Peter lost the dice throw and had to be the one to dig out the seventeenth-century-style privy they'd been using. ("This job is grim," he tells the camera.) The food is especially interesting to me! It looks more varied and tastier than I'd often have expected; obviously most of the recipes that survive from the earlier periods are on the luxe end, and they're portraying fairly well-off farmers, but even so, when you're sticking to period ingredients and cooking methods (no cooking oil or fat other than animal fat! sealing the oven door with flour-and-water paste!), I was expecting a bit more, well, pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold, you know? Which, to be fair, they do also eat. And the WWII urgency to massively increase domestic food production, which (not being British) I didn't really know about, drives that series in fascinating ways -- as do the effects of rationing.

It took me a long time to think, wait, are they really drinking raw milk in all these early-set series? It sure looks like it! At the beginning of the first series, I think it was, which reenacts 1620, the voiceover notes that, due to modern health and safety laws, they can't actually live in the cottage; but then later on they do seem to be living in it, given that they're using the privy at night (and washing clothes with ammonia derived from their own rotted urine), so I'd love to know more about that kind of behind-the-scenes stuff. Sometimes I almost yelp "At least tie a cloth over your faces!" when they're doing something like sweeping out decades of powdery dried birdshit from cottage rafters. (Did you know that the wing of a goose makes an excellent duster! I do, now!) But in general I trust that they took reasonable safety precautions, despite the occasional offhand comment about falling off a roof or being butted by a cow...and anyway the shows are 12-20 years old, so it's too late to worry about it!

But they're pleasant and interesting and warmly human and I recommend them to anyone who might like that kind of thing, because it's the kind of thing you might like! Also some of the scenery and cinematography is gorgeous.

have a recipe! I've made this twice in the last week or so, it's freaking fantastic.

Roasted Squash and Kale Salad

2 delicata squash
olive oil
2 bunches kale
¼ tsp ground cinnamon
¼ tsp smoked paprika
¼ tsp ground nutmeg
⅛ ground cloves
⅛ cayenne pepper or red pepper flakes
½ Tbsp brown sugar
1 cup pecans, roughly chopped
½ cup dried cranberries
½ red onion, minced
2 Tbsp maple syrup
1 Tbsp Dijon mustard
1 Tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 tsp lemon juice

Preheat oven to 425°F. Halve the squash lengthwise, scoop out seeds, and slice into half-inch-thick semicircles. Toss squash pieces with a little olive oil and spread them on a couple of baking trays (I use silicone baking mats), overlapping as little as possible. Bake about 25 minutes, until some pieces are browning on top; flip them halfway through if you like. When they come out, dump them into a large bowl.

Meanwhile, strip the kale leaves from the stems and roughly chop the leaves. (I generally dice the stems and save them for soup or the like, but you can also dice them and use them here, or just toss them if you're not a fan.) When the squash comes out of the oven, pile the kale on the baking trays, drizzle the piles with a little olive oil, and toss and massage the leaves with your hands (watching out for the hot tray underneath) until they're well coated and a bit tender. Bake the leaves in the same oven until wilted and crisp in some spots, about 5-10 minutes. When they come out, add them to the bowl with the squash.

Meanwhile, combine the cinnamon, paprika, nutmeg, cloves, cayenne pepper, and brown sugar in a small bowl, add the nuts and 1 or 2 tablespoons olive oil, and toss to coat. When the kale comes out of the oven, spread the nuts on the baking trays (here is where a baking mat is great, since otherwise melting sugar might stick) and bake them in the same oven until toasted and candied, about 5 minutes. Add them to the squash and kale; be sure to scrape in any coating that has come off the nuts. Add the cranberries as well.

Meanwhile, in the same bowl in which you mixed the nuts and their coating (which surely still has a fair bit of leftover coating mix in it), whisk together the onion, maple syrup, mustard, balsamic vinegar, and lemon juice. Whisk in more olive oil, anything from another couple tablespoons to a quarter-cup. Taste and adjust. When you have it as you like it, pour the dressing over the salad and toss everything together. Eat warm or at room temperature.