Thursday, February 28th, 2019

Cereals are strange things. Most guests have some muesli for breakfast, but the cornflakes tend to get ignored. As I decanted the jar of flakes that I decided had been there too long (the chickens devoured them with delight!), I decided to refill the jar with granola, which seems to be more fashionable these days and goes far better with fruit and a dollop of cool, plain homemade yoghurt. Part of the reason is that in my local supermarket, cornflakes are only available in gigantic “family” packs that would take years to get through, so there is a lot of wastage. Granola comes in smaller packs and, besides, I intend to make my own.

Wednesday, January 31, 2019

Snow fell last night for the first time since last March. There isn’t much, but Jemima is enjoying it this morning, pretending she’s a Snow Goose (anser caerulescens). Snow Geese are a North American species, and come in two varieties: blue-grey (hence the Latin name which means Blueish Goose) and pure white. Our Sebastopol Geese may look a little like Snow Geese, but they are not related and belong to the European Greylag Goose family (anser anser, or “goose goose”) Jemima is the photogenic one. She made sure to preen her feathers before having her picture taken. The other two were looking too bedraggled for a photo shoot this morning.

Wednesday, December 12th, 2018

Today, the hallway floor looks normal again after its recent open surgery. Its wound has healed and you’d never know that three weeks ago it suffered a severe trauma when a major artery in the form of a central heating pipe burst beneath its red-tiled skin. Luckily the plumber happened to be here when the crisis occurred. We were chatting in the hallway when we heard the tell-tale sound of a sudden, thunderous rush of water not far from where we were standing. Guests were due to arrive next day, so I had to cancel them immediately as there wouldn’t be any heating and cold nights were forecast. My plumber then began to look for the source of the leak. Knowing that it was in or near the hallway helped to locate the rusted pipe. We knew it had to be underground because there was no sign of water leaking from the ceiling or any of the exposed pipes.

Some of these old steel pipes date from 1948. To replace all of them would involve digging up vast areas of tile and concrete. The best we can do is to deal with them as and when individual pipes or sections fail. Having found the rotten pipe, the plumber removed the whole section and fitted a copper one in its place with brass connectors at each end. This left us with the problem of how to repair the gaping wound.

Unfortunately, quarry tiles like these are no longer manufactured. They measure 9 inches by 9 inches and are one-inch thick. Replacing the broken ones (and it’s virtually impossible to get them up without breaking them) is not easy. Fortunately, one of the reclamation yards in the area had some nine-by-nines in stock, though they were not as thick and were slightly lighter in colour. However, after building up the concrete to the correct height and applying red-tinted cement and red wax tile polish to the unsealed tiles, you can barely see the scar.

Advent Sunday, 2018

Although bookings are few and far between at this time of the year, we are open for business and will have a full house on Christmas morning. The dining room, where guests have breakfast, looks particularly warm and inviting in December.

Wednesday, October 24th, 2018

Today I found the perfect solution to a problem that has been niggling me for some while. Although the production of a sourdough loaf is ideally a three-day undertaking for maximum fermentation and flavour, and because I never make more than one loaf at a time, alternating between white and wholewheat, at busy times I need to speed up the process to ensure that I always have both white and wholewheat bread available for guests and for us. Otherwise I might suddenly find myself short. Sourdough has a mind of its own and behaves very differently according to temperature and weather. In the summer months I can make a loaf in about 26 hours. But when the house is cold it can take a loaf the whole day to achieve its first proof and it is very reluctant and slow to rise again during its final proof. I used to put it in the airing cupboard for that second rising, but even that is unpredictable as the temperature there varies considerably at different times of the day, depending on whether the boiler kicks in or not. Also, the atmosphere in there is too dry.

Here’s my solution, which guarantees consistency and good results. When your loaf is ready for its final proofing, take a large insulating ice box and fill the bottom two  inches with very hot water. Put an upturned box or rows of empty jars in it to form a stand so that the loaf tin is not in contact with the hot water. Place your loaf tin on the stand and close the lid. The hot steam swirling around in the ice box will make your loaf rise in just one hour and it will be beautifully moist as it goes into the oven for the bake.

I make my sourdough loaves in tins rather than freeform because guests like toast and it’s tidier to present them with uniform slices that fit the toaster. Bakers might wonder why this quick method still takes 26 hours or more. It’s because I make a “sponge” or levain from starter, flour and water in the morning, which I leave all day for the flavours to develop before adding more flour and kneading it in the evening. The dough then rises slowly overnight in the larder or the fridge depending on the time of year, is knocked back after breakfast and is proved until ready to bake. With this new speeded up proving process I can have it ready by lunch time at any time of year, no matter what the ambient temperature is. When I’m not in a hurry I prefer to use the slow method, which gives the loaf more fermentation time and produces a better flavour. That method consists in starting the levain in the evening of Day 1, leaving it overnight in a cool place overnight, mixing the dough next morning and leaving it to prove at room temperature during Day 2, letting it rest in the fridge overnight and baking it at some point on Day 3, which is sometimes not until late afternoon or evening.

Monday, October 22nd, 2018

Yesterday Jemima (on the right), welcomed two new residents. We hope she will enjoy the company of birds of her own species, having been a lone goose among numerous hens for so long. We had to get rid of our Chinese Crested geese many months ago because they were too aggressive. But Jemima has always been a gentle creature with a mild temperament, which we hope is characteristic of her breed. Her new companions are also Sebastopol geese and are seven months old. Names for them will have to wait until it is absolutely certain what gender they are.

Changing the subject to breakfast, here’s an update on the Belgian waffle situation. I reported earlier that I was thinking of including waffles on the breakfast menu. Having redesigned my breakfast order form recently, I thought I’d included waffles as an option on a trial basis to see if there would be any take-up. Ever since then, hardly a day has gone by without someone putting in an order for a waffle. On Sunday morning a Belgian couple, who had asked for croissants on previous days, ticked the waffle box. “But Belgians never eat waffles for breakfast,” I protested. “Ah, but it’s Sunday, so we’re allowed a treat”, they responded. That clinches it. If a Belgian says it’s okay to eat waffles first thing in the morning, that’s good enough for me. Waffles are now officially on the breakfast menu.

Thursday, October 18th, 2018

September was almost constantly fully booked, so I had to use the services of a laundry company to help with the ironing. This was a bad idea. The “ironed” sheet in the above photo was one of 26 items that were sent out for ironing and came back looking worse after they’d been pressed than before.  Not only did this company use hand-irons to do the pressing (I asked them!), but they transported and delivered them, badly folded, in floppy bags. The service was not cheap either. The company’s response to my photo was to invest in a commercial linen press and better bags. However, once bitten twice shy, and I decided not to take up their offer of a lifetime discount for all future orders.

As I was still casting around for a better solution, my Belgian cousin sent me a message. He’d read my news pages (where laundry management is a recurring topic) and said that I absolutely must use a rotary iron (calandreuse, is the lovely French word for these machines). I’d never seen one before, but I knew they were very expensive, due to the low volume of sales by comparison with, say, washing machines or tumble dryers. When he said he’d had his for more than 25 years and it was still working, I was convinced. My table-top press will still be useful for napkins and small items, but this heavy duty machine (39 kg) presses bed linen with far less effort in a fraction of the time. There is less preparatory work too than with the small press, so more time is saved.

Here is my Miele HM 16-83, with a beautifully pressed sheet resting on the top, which is what I’d expected the sheet in the top photo to look like. After a good oven, this is the best investment a B&B owner could possibly make. Merci, Cousin!

Friday, October 5th, 2018

The large Parrotia Persica (or Persian Ironwood) tree at the western end of the garden is beginning to take on its autumnal hues. This year I have been photographing it day by day from the same place and hope to post a video of its transformation when it reaches its most vibrant state. It still has a way to go, but today it was bathed in sunshine and it seemed to glow in the morning light in a way that the camera can’t quite convey.

I assumed it was named for its vivid parrot-like colours, which will become more evident in the coming days, but not at all. It was a German naturalist, Johann Jacob Friedrich Wilhelm Parrot (1791 – 1841) who gave it his name. He was also a doctor, an academic and an explorer, and he led the first expedition to the summit of Mount Ararat. As colourful as a Persian carpet, this tree from northern Iran never fails to put on a good show here in Kent.

Tuesday, September 18th, 2018

Earlier this summer we rescued a batch of hens who’d spent their lives cooped up in a barn and whose owner wanted to get rid of them. They were in bad shape, and some had breathing difficulties. A few died after a few days. But the remainder rallied after a lot of rehab, good food, free ranging and socialising with healthier peers, Jemima the goose, Barnie the dog, and cats Georgie, Peonie, Tigger and Roo. Gradually, these sickly, scrawny hens began to regain their feathers and their health. One of the consequences of this newfound contentment is eggs. Lots of them. Not everyone wants eggs for breakfast, and I don’t want to eat omelette every evening for supper for weeks on end. What other options are there? It so happens that I have just acquired a new waffle iron, on the recommendation of Tom, one of my recent Belgian guests. It’s a Krups machine, which is far superior to my previous Cuisinart. That one was too small, didn’t produce anything that remotely resembled a waffle and was a danger to use because the hot plates kept falling out of the machine every time you opened it. More to the point, I never used it because the results were inedible — and I tried all the recipes in its handbook. It’s fit only for metal recycling. Being half Belgian, I have a desperate need for waffles once or twice a year, and I was determined to find a machine that worked reliably. The Krups is expensive, but worth it. I tried it out for the first time yesterday, and even the first waffle come out perfectly. Tom’s suggested recipe is the real deal — proper Belgian waffles using yeast and stiffly beaten egg whites as rising agents. Because there is no sugar in his recipe, you could eat these with all kinds of topping, not just the traditional powdered sugar. There are two main types of waffle in Belgium, gauffres de Liége (heavier and stickier, with crunchy bits of caramelised pearl sugar in them, and which can be eaten cold) and gauffres de Bruxelles (crisper, lighter and best eaten warm as soon as they are made). They are still delicious when reheated from frozen, and I am tempted to offer them on my breakfast menu — even though Belgians never eat waffles for breakfast.

Thursday, September 6th, 2018

A phone charger, several travel adapters, a pair of socks, two men’s handkerchiefs, some Y-fronts, a woman’s cardigan, a man’s shirt and a book. These are the things I’ve collected so far from vacated rooms since Bressenden started taking in guests four months ago. And guests have twice gone off with the room and front door keys. Today some guests took the keys but left a map. I don’t mind returning the odd item, but I’m not a postal service, and apart from the inconvenience of having to pack and label the items and purchase the postage, I have to make a car journey to get to the nearest post-office. As for guests returning room and house keys, I am not keen on the idea of my front door key being sent by unregistered mail to the very door it is designed to open. The surprising thing is that these items have been left not in cupboards or drawers, but usually in full view on top of the bed, inside the bed, and even, in the case of the shirt, in the middle of the floor. Those who fail to give their rooms even a perfunctory glance before closing the bedroom door are not young people inexperienced in the art of travelling but, for the most part, seasoned travellers in middle age or older. The term “checking out” is what it is for good reasons. I’m tempted to make departing guests sign a form to the effect that they have checked their room thoroughly and absolve me from any obligation to return forgotten items. But I too should be more vigilant. Up until now, I’ve allowed guests to leave their bedroom door keys in the keyhole. From today, guests will not be allowed to leave until they’ve handed me the keys.