Chocolate overdose

I’d never overdosed on chocolate until last week, and believe me, I’ve spent my whole life trying. But, let’s face it, most chocolate in the UK contains a rubbish 30% cocoa solids and the good stuff costs a fortune, so even if you want to eat it til you’re sick, few people can afford to.

So it is with huge thanks to the Kebele Community Co-op in Easton, Bristol, and Bristol Animal Rights Collective that I got to experience the full delights of the chocolate OD. Up til then I’d never really believed chocolate was that powerful a drug, or maybe that’s because I’ve spent years building up a tolerance. But when I went to the Kebele for their vegan chocolate tasting evening I was faced with this:

One side of the Kebele lined with chocolate

See all that chocolate? That’s not even half of what was on offer.

Ice cream, chocolate milk, truffles, chocolate bars, raw chocolate, chocolate mousse, and none of it with any animal products in.

Now I must confess to having eaten three Bendicks Bittermints (not vegan) just before I left the house, but still, in the interests of science, I kept my promise to try every single chocolate on offer.

I started at the door and worked my way slowly down the left, pausing to praise the florentines and drink copious amounts of water.

Then I worked my way up the right side:

Hipo Hyfryd's wonderful handmade chocolates

This was the domain of Hipo Hyfryd, one crazy obsessed guy from Cardiff and his single estate homemade chocolates. God knows how I did it, but I managed to get down several of his cardamon and pistachio truffles. I was going to go to his talk on making truffles, but by now my tummy was starting to hurt with overstretching. I made my farewells and staggered six doors down the road to my friend Hazel’s, where I lay groaning on the sofa, drinking tea and realising I was completely off my face.

Now, in my opinion, this is a result. To be hearing my voice coming from the other side of the room instead of from inside me because I’ve eaten too much chocolate is a new one to me.

I wonder, was I the only one, or where there women all over Bristol clutching their tummies and cackling, having finally made it to chocolate heaven.

The Kebele I salut you!

Thank you very mulch

I’m a great believer in doing something for nothing.  One thing I do is be a member of Bristol City Council Tree Forum, where local groups can influence the way the city deals with trees. It’s a laudable forum, but sometimes I almost fall asleep with the bureaucracy and lack of oxygen.

So last week I put my feet where my mouth is and went out volunteering with the council’s Tree Bristol. They’ve planted 25000 trees since 2005, and aim to plant 10,000 new trees in all. New trees need watering and mulching and older ones need the ties holding them to their stakes loosening.

I had a great, hot sweaty time of it with Emma and Beth, Baz and Hayley, driving round in a big flat bed truck loaded with mulch and wheelbarrows. I got to see parts of Bristol I didn’t know and to appreciate that taking care of our trees is a time consuming business.

Tree Bristol needs more volunteers. They only have a small budget

Hayley and Baz loosen tree ties

and every hour of volunteer time means more money to spend on trees. Contact Emma on treebristol@bristol.gov.uk or 0117 352 5638 to volunteer.

Raw chocolate mousse

Some of you asked for a raw food recipe, so here’s a raw food classic. I promise you, once you’ve eaten raw chocolate mousse you’ll never eat the usual eggs and cream chocolate mousse again.

Buy a couple of avocados and let them ripen up nicely. Then spoon them into a blender with a tablespoon or two of water. Whizz them up with some raw agave syrup, and then add raw cacao powder (this is raw cocoa and has more depth and fruitiness than the cooked stuff). If, like me, you’re a chocoholic you will add way more than you need to, three or so teaspoons should be enough. For extra depth of flavour try adding raw vanilla essence, or for extra fruitiness whizz in some blueberries. You can serve it in a bowl like in the picture, or do what I do: use it as a dip for slices of apple or, on luxury days, whole strawberries. I find if I do this I can actually manage to share my precious mousse with other people.

I buy my raw ingredients from two sources. If I’m in a rush I go to Harvest on Gloucester Road in Bristol. Otherwise I buy online from Detox Your World.

Raw food feasting

Last night I got to stuff my face and delight my body  when I went to one of Anna Middleton‘s monthly raw food potluck dinners. Here’s a picture of Anna looking glamourous and damn healthy.

Feeling a bit unsure of my raw food talents I got round bringing a dish by taking lots of buckler leaf sorrel (Rumex scutatus) dug out of the garden. It tastes of Granny Smiths and you can buy it from  Jekka’s Herb Farm.  I got mine there in 2000 when I spent two delicious summers working for Jekka on the farm and at most of the Royal Horticultural Society‘s flower shows.

Everyone else brought proper food. And what food. Raw tabouleh made with sprouted quinoa, salad with pea flowers and nasturtiums, and my personal favourite, little tarts with almond custard, chocolate tar, and cases made from dates and almonds.

Readers of The Source will know that I spent last winter doing a 12 week raw food detox with Saskia Fraser and Raw Freedom. Some may say that a raw diet is not the faint-hearted, but I say, yes it is. Judging from the number of enthusiastic previous M.E. sufferers there, it’s also extremely good for chronic fatigue syndrome. I ate more than I should have (but then I always do) and have awoken this morning zinging all over and full of creative ideas. Want to find out more? Then check out the links.

I name this duckling

This year it’s all about the birds. When not saving feathered lives, I’ve been helping create new ones. Back in May my sister, who is living the good life on five acres and a pond in Sussex asked me to do her a huge favour. ”When you come to stay can you bring me 24 fertilised muscovy duck eggs? I can’t get them from anyone round here and there’s a breeder in Bristol.” Just when I’d decided to get the train instead of driving.  “Sure,” I said, wondering how on earth I’d get across London with two dozen little lives, as well as all my tat.

Thinking I  had to keep the eggs warm at all costs, I arranged to collect them, at £1 per egg, from Stuart Blanchard in deepest Frenchay (07989 136164) at 10.30pm the night before my journey. Of course I took a mate in case he tried to make me into water bird food. Turned out he was a  sweetie with a kitchen full of eggs and boxes and a back garden with 60 ducks in. Amazing what you find in this city. Stuart is on mission to turn people off pate de foie gras but making them fall in love with ducks. He bunged in six Aylesbury duck eggs for free. Go Stuart, I say.

Turns out fertilised eggs will last up to 3 weeks without being warmed, and next day I struggled across London with them all boxed, bubble-wrapped and bagged, getting on all the wrong tube trains and missing my connection at London Bridge. I told my sister that the price for all that effort was to name every single duckling after me. After all there must easily be

Catharine the First just hatched

24 variations on the name Catharine.

In Sussex we put them in the incubator and now, a month later, the first Aylesbury has hatched. I name this duckling Catharine the First, God bless her and all who follow her.

I saved a life before breakfast today

Found a little green bird lying on its side on the pavement, struggling to get to its feet. I picked it up. It was so small it fitted more than easily into one hand. I was in the nick of time because next thing a mum, two kids and a buggie appeared and would surely have rumbled over the birdy without even seeing it they were so busy talking. I carried the birdy round the garden collecting long grass and calming lavender and made it a nest with a bowl of water in a shoe box. An hour or so later I opened the box and it flew away without so much as  thank you. But I felt fantastic for having averting a lonely death on an inner city pavement.

One thing though. What kind of bird was it? Its beak was way too spikey to be a finch and I can’t find a picture of it online. Any ideas anyone?