The Darkling Thrush and Pontack

It’s that bleak, oppress­ive time of year when light is sparse and joys are scant. ‘Winter’s dregs’ was how writer Thomas Hardy described it, in his poem The Dark­ling Thrush. Depend­ing on my mood, I either sign up to the plucky cour­age of Hardy’s wind-battered bird, trilling mer­rily from his twig. Or I side with the lugubri­ous poet, shar­ing his bewil­der­ment that the thrush could find any­thing remotely jolly to sing about.

I leant upon a cop­pice gate
When Frost was spectre-grey,
And Winter’s dregs made des­ol­ate
The weak­en­ing eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all man­kind that haunted nigh
Had sought their house­hold fires.

The land’s sharp fea­tures seemed to be
The Century’s corpse out­leant,
His crypt the cloudy can­opy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spir­it upon earth
Seemed fer­vour­less as I.

At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs over­head
In a full-hearted even­song
Of joy illim­ited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the grow­ing gloom.

So little cause for car­ol­ings
Of such ecstat­ic sound
Was writ­ten on ter­restri­al things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, where­of he knew
And I was unaware.

I’ve decided that today belongs to the brave little bird, des­pite plenty of evid­ence to the con­trary. And in that spir­it I reached for blood oranges, both tart and sweet; for fen­nel, full of ani­seedy crunch; and for Pon­tack sauce.

Pon­tack sauce? I knew noth­ing about it until I dis­covered For­age, a group of gather­ers and for­agers from Here­ford­shire who pick nat­ur­al ingredi­ents from hedgerows and wood­lands and turn them into deli­cious-tast­ing products like Pon­tack, wild rose spice mix and wild herb rub.

I had no idea what to expect when I ordered a bottle online. Pon­tack is made from cider vin­eg­ar, eld­er­ber­ries, onions, root ginger and all­spice and appar­ently dates back to the 18th cen­tury. It’s a rich, deep red in col­our and tastes like a roun­ded, fruity vin­eg­ar with a hint of cloves. Hav­ing tasted it, it seemed to me to be the per­fect ingredi­ent for a vinai­grette, although I dis­covered that a couple of spoon­fuls were also deli­cious stirred into a slow-cooked beef cas­ser­ole.

BLOOD ORANGE AND FENNEL SALAD WITH PONTACK VINAIGRETTE

For each per­son you will need:

  • One quarter of a fen­nel bulb, sliced very thinly
  • Half a blood orange, peeled and thinly sliced. Any sur­plus juice can be added to the vinai­grette
  • Hand­ful salad leaves
  • Hand­ful wal­nuts
  • Extra vir­gin olive oil
  • Pon­tack sauce
  • Salt, pep­per and a pinch of sug­ar

Whisk 2 parts of Pon­tack with 1 part extra vir­gin olive oil. Add salt, black pep­per and a gen­er­ous pinch of sug­ar. Once emul­si­fied trickle the vinai­grette over the salad, oranges and fen­nel and top with wal­nuts. Serve this sharp, cit­rus salad with char-grilled sal­mon. The two bal­ance each oth­er per­fectly.

Such a vibrant, bright, fresh-tast­ing salad would, I ima­gine, have cut no ice with the per­en­ni­ally gloomy Thomas Hardy. But that plucky little thrush would have loved it — espe­cially the eld­er­berry Pon­tack. That’s prob­ably what he was singing about.

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16 thoughts on “The Darkling Thrush and Pontack

  1. This:

    In blast-beruffled plume,
    Had chosen thus to fling his soul
    Upon the grow­ing gloom.

    is me to a tee around my gloomy hus­band. The weath­er makes him droop and the dreary pess­im­ist takes over. Hap­pily I can shake my beruffled (great word!) wings and spread a bit of cheer. This salad is def­in­itely cherry with lus­cious, gor­geous, sweet blood oranges and my favor­ite fen­nel. Pon­tack sounds intriguing — must find a jar when I come to the UK! The whole dish is won­der­ful… Abso­lutely beau­ti­ful, charm­ing post, as always.

    • No one could ever accuse you of lack­ing in cheer. Your enthu­si­asm and gen­er­os­ity gives me a lift every time! Thank you so much, Jam­ie

  2. I think Thomas Hardy can be over­rated as a poet but The Dark­ling Thrush is one of his best. I also think this post is one of your best but the stand­ard is always tops. There will prob­ably be a run on Pon­tack. The vinai­grette sounds deli­ciously unusu­al. Icy twigs pic is ace.

  3. ive nev­er had a pon­tack sauce, and ive also nev­er really read any Hardy, but after this post I think i will be try­ing both. the pic­tures are beau­ti­ful as usu­al!

  4. I love your site, a won­der­ful mix of excel­lent pho­tos, writ­ings, mus­ings, inform­a­tion etc. For­age and Pon­tack sauce both look worth fur­ther invest­ig­a­tion.

    I have taken the liberty of nom­in­at­ing you for a Ver­sat­ile Blog­ger Award, hope you don’t mind!

    • That’s very kind of you — and of course I don’t mind at all! I’m so pleased too that you enjoy Eggs On The Roof.

  5. pon­tack sauce looks so enti­cing, maybe, no definetly, due to the cre­at­ive way you have used it. Anoth­er absorb­ing blog.

  6. Nevr heard of Pon­tack sauce (I’d also nev­er heard of fant­ast­ic Ben­enden sauce either, until a friend gave me a bottle — so what do I know?!) — does sound deli­cious and per­fect for salads though! I have been see­ing fen­nel every­where this week and now you have giv­en me a crav­ing. I am on the side of the thrush, mostly 🙂

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