As if a deeply neurotic dog isn’t enough to cope with, I now appear to have a depressed hen on my hands. She’s been a bit down in the beak since the arrival of the young louts and has taken to spending time alone, presumably heeding the French adage ‘Il vaut mieux être seul que mal accompagné’ (it’s better to be alone than badly accompanied). I’m a dab hand at dealing with dippy horses (two headcollars ripped to shreds in under five minutes today; a record even by our standards) and bipolar dogs, but this is somewhat baffling…
I made this vegetable couscous with her in mind as it meant lots of vegetable peelings and some remnents of couscous grain to perk her up a bit. I used spelt couscous which is nutty, subtle and lighter than wheat couscous, but you can use either. I’m a big fan of spelt, an ancient protein-rich grain offering a far broader range of nutrients than wheat (manganese, phosphorus, vitamin B3, magnesium, copper…). It also seems to cause fewer digestive problems than wheat, although it does contain gluten.
Ingredients (serves 4)
2 tablespoons olive oil
4 carrots, peeled and cut into large pieces
1 potato, peeled and cut into large chunks
1 onion, peeled and sliced
4 cloves of garlic, peeled
1 red pepper (sliced)
2 tomatoes (blanched, peeled and sliced)
1 large courgette, cut into approximately 4cm slices
4 baby turnips, peeled
100g pre-cooked chickpeas
1 bay leaf
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
3 teaspoons ras-el-hanout
200ml chicken or vegetable stock
200g couscous
handful of raisins
harissa and fresh mint to serve
Fry the onions in the olive oil, gradually adding the other vegetables. Add the seasoning, spices and stock and simmer for about 30 minutes until the vegetables are tender. Prepare the couscous according to instructions, adding the raisins to the boiling water. Serve the couscous and ladle the vegetables and sauce over the top. This is good either on its own or to accompany grilled or barbecued sausages and meat.

Please bear with me because this is complicated (for you) and exhausting (for me):
The young red hens must be separated from the black hen to be fed; she bullies them relentlessly, preventing them from eating. It is imperative, however, that they eat with the white hen who calms and protects them. The barking dog must be kept at a distance as he is inclined to fluster eating hens, potentially causing indigestion or choking. The oldest horse (who roams the grounds because everyone is bothersome in his book), must also be kept away from the hens, even the belligerent black one, as he would not hesitate to stomp and blow air through his nostrils with intent to gain access to more grain. He is temporarily condemned to the tool shed (yes, really :-)), while the hens eat in the tack room. For all of this to be achieved, the black hen must be repeatedly chased, the dog restrained from shredding his lead and Texas, the extremely wilful old horse, prevented from either breaking the tool shed door down or harming himself on the chainsaw. Thankfully the cat, having no doubt pulled an all-nighter, is asleep somewhere and therefore not a problem.
I find the fragrant aroma of tagine cooking very calming , which is why I make it on a regular basis 😉 Is 9am too early for brandy?
Ingredients (serves 4):
3 tablespoons of olive oil
2 medium onions, chopped
4 cloves of garlic, peeled and crushed
8 chicken thighs
2 orange, peeled and roughly chopped (2cm)
6 medium-sized carrots, peeled and cut into 2cm pieces
150g chickpeas, precooked
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon coriander
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Bay leaf
500ml chicken stock
Fresh coriander to serve
There is a mixed Moroccan spice you can buy called Raz el Hamout, which combines all of the above spices and sometimes more. If you have some, you may use it in place of the separate spices.

Things aren’t looking good: I had a conversation with a plastic bag this afternoon. Obviously not a conversation in the strictest sense of the word —  more of a mad monologue if precision is called for. My neighbour covers her scarecrow with a plastic bag to protect it from the rain. Which, come to think about it, is pretty random;  If her aim is to hoodwink the birds, then why not a raincoat? Birds may be somewhat mentally-challenged, but I’m sure they know that people tend to wear raincoats and not plastic bags in the rain. Anyway, rushing along the track, blinded by the sun, I thought the plastic bag was my neighbour, which probably isn’t very flattering. But then again, who cares what somebody who shoots the breeze with a plastic bag thinks?
The spices in curry are packed full of antioxidants, which are, amongst other things, very effective at helping the brain to function properly 🙂
Ingredients (serves 4)
500g raw prawns, peeled and rinsed
Juice of half a lemon
3 tablespoons of coconut oil
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
2 onions, chopped and sliced
3 cloves of garlic, crushed
150g tomato purée
1 tin of sliced mango
250ml fish or chicken stock
1 teaspoon of freshly grated ginger
3 lime kaffir leaves
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon curry powder
1/2 teaspoon chilli powder (or a fresh chilli, finely chopped)
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 cup of frozen peas
Squeeze the lemon juice onto the prawns and set aside. Melt the coconut oil in a deep frying pan or casserole and gently brown the onions, garlic and cumin seeds. Once the onions are translucent, add the mangos, tomato purée, stock and spices and bring to a gentle boil to reduce the liquid. Add the peas and cook for about 15 minutes. Add the prawns and cook for a further ten minutes. Serve immediately with basmati rice.