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.
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
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.
A typically thoughtful, generous comment – thank you so much.
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!
Lovely, Boinsey – thank you. I hope you enjoy both. Do let me know what you think of poetry and sauce…
From Ponting to Pontack! So that’s what thrushes sing about. This salad fits the weather here but stirring it into a beef casserole also sounds gorgeous.
To pont with a pint of pontack, perhaps.. I’m so glad you introduced me to that new verb, Sally
Beautiful presentation of the salad. You’re an artist with food!
An ‘artist with food’? What a wonderful description. I’m very flattered – thank you so much, Nick.
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.
pontack sauce looks so enticing, maybe, no definetly, due to the creative way you have used it. Another absorbing blog.
How very loyal of you – I feel very flattered
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 🙂
Benenden sauce? I don’t know it at all. I’ll have to try it, if you think it’s good.