Spanish

Oct 29, 2023

Whether you’re a wilderness adventurer or a glamper, make your food one of the joys of the great outdoors

Nature is our default setting, so when the concrete seems especially hard underfoot, the buildings lean inwards and the arrow storm of stress casts a shadow overhead, I tend to head for the grassy places, cowpats and birdsong; if that also involves setting up camp among the bluebells by the side of a glistening stream, so much the better.

I generally split camping and picnicking into two distinct categories: hardcore minimalism and efficient packing, or an extravagant, and perhaps exhaustive, venture reminiscent of one of those ill-fated Victorian expeditions into uncharted territories, with even chairs and soft furnishings taken to a wildly beautiful but totally inconvenient place, where likely no one factored in the midges. Such adventures often lead to inevitable sogginess or clamminess, but I enjoy both for the rare chance to go feral, with the smell of smoke clinging to my damp jeans and my hair volumised with bacon fat. With charcoal under my fingernails and thistles embedded in briefly freed feet, I always return home feeling scratched yet positive.

When it comes to the food, I tend very much to lean towards a small fishing rod and a penknife over perhaps more relevant camp kitchen utensils, plus an acquired knowledge of the hedgerow, which will happily dictate what's going on my menu. Well, alongside a couple of handy tins of something fishy, some bacon and maybe a few chops. If you’re lucky, there’ll also be a farm shop conveniently close (somehow, there usually is), which is of course a good thing, save for the fact that you often leave feeling skinned alive after buying a half-dozen fancy eggs decorated with feathers, a wodge of cheese, an extortionate sourdough and a bottle of kombucha. So, with a mixture of the pre-prepared and the in-situ, here are three campsite dishes I hope you’ll find outstanding in their field.

Prep 15 minCook 30 minServes 2

2 tbsp good olive oil4 garlic sausages, skinned, meat broken into largish chunks1 medium onion, peeled, halved and thinly sliced1 green pepper, stalk, pith and seeds discarded, flesh cut into medium dice1 big pinch dried oregano 1 pinch ground cinnamon (I know it sounds odd, but trust me)¼ tsp smoked paprika3 large garlic cloves, peeled and thinly sliced1 x 400 g tin cannellini beans 100ml tart cider 1 fresh medium tomato, halved 1 big handful swiss chard leaves, chopped, or nettles, sorrel or wild garlic, depending on the seasonA squeeze of lemon juice Salt and black pepper

Heat the oil in a frying pan, fry the sausagemeat for about seven minutes, until well browned all over, then scoop out on to a plate.

Fry the onion and green pepper in the remaining fat in the pan for 15 minutes, until they’re totally, undeniably soft, then stir in the oregano, cinnamon and paprika. Add the sliced garlic, return the sausagemeat to the pan and cook gently for another minute or so, then tip in the beans and their tin juices and the cider (or water). Bring to a simmer, then lay in the tomato halves cut side down and leave to bubble gently for 10 minutes, until the tomatoes are soft and the skins can be easily pinched off. By this stage, the consistency of the bean mix should creamy but not too thick – it should be able to slide slowly off a plate. Stir in the chopped chard, cook for a minute or two until wilted, then season with just enough lemon juice to give it an edge. Add salt to taste, and less pepper, and serve with a cold cider.

Prep 20 minAssembly 15 minServes 2

1 crusty white bloomer2 hard-boiled eggs 1 handful cooked new potatoes 6 large hot radishes, cleaned – keep the leaves on if they’re in good nick6 baby carrots, washed4 cherry tomatoes1 medium fennel, trimmed and quartered

For the mayonnaise2 medium egg yolks2 generous dssp dijon mustard1 tbsp white-wine vinegar½ tbsp lemon juice1 medium garlic clove, peeled and finely grated100ml sunflower oil100ml extra-virgin olive oil 1 tbsp finely chopped dill1 tbsp finely chopped tarragonA little finely chopped mint, plus a little optional finely chopped lovage, if you have access to someSalt

Make the mayo in advance at home. Put the egg yolks in a bowl with the mustard, vinegar, lemon juice and garlic, and combine the two oils in a jug. Using a stick blender (preferably with whisk attachment), slowly whisk the egg mix, then beat in the oils in a thin, steady stream. When it's all emulsified and thick, stir in the chopped herbs and season with salt to taste. (In the unlikely event that the mayo splits, put a third egg yolk in a clean bowl, then slowly beat in the failed first attempt, and it will soon come together.) Decant the herb mayo into a small clean jar and seal.

Saw off the top 5cm of the loaf, so creating a lid. Pull out the internal fluffy crumb, leaving a nice, thick border – you need to make enough space for all the other ingredients. (Make breadcrumbs with the scooped-out bread – maybe crisp them in oil to make migas to top the mountain beans above, or use in sweet delights such as a queen of puddings.)

Pack the mayo jar, eggs and vegetables inside the bread, top with the lid and secure with an elastic band or string. You’re now ready to go.

Prep 10 minCook 40 minServes 3-4

This is very easy to make indeed, whether at home or on a campfire in a field. It's a very portable snack, too, wrapped and popped in a pocket to be enjoyed far sooner than was intended.

50g butter1 large onion, peeled and diced80g nettle tops, leaves and tender stalks only, washed twice in salty water (use gloves for picking and washing), or spinach5 medium eggsA dash of cream – optionalFlaked sea salt and black pepper1 good glug of olive oil

Melt the butter in small frying pan, then gently saute the onion until pathetically soft but not coloured – this will take 15-18 minutes. Scoop them on to a plate and leave to cool, and keep the pan for later. Bring a saucepan of water to a boil, drop in the nettles and blanch for two minutes. Drain and refresh, then gather the leaves into a ball, squeeze them really hard to expel as much water as possible (don't worry, they don't sting after cooking), then chop very finely.

In a bowl, vigorously beat the eggs, then mix in the cream, if using. Stir the cooled onions and chopped nettles into the egg, then season.

Put the olive oil in the onion pan on a medium heat, then tip in the tortilla mixture and stir a little just to help the heat move through it. When the sides start to brown slightly, put a few hot coals in a saucepan that's wider than the frying pan, lay a sheet of greaseproof paper over the egg pan and top with the pan of hot coals; alternatively, cover the egg pan with foil and pop a layer of hot coals directly on top. (If making this at home, simply pop the tortilla under the grill.) Check after five or so minutes: when there is just the faintest wobble left in the centre of the tortilla, take it off the heat and leave to cool in the pan. Place a plate on top, flip to invert the tortilla on to it, then cut into wedges and eat with crusty bread.

Valentine Warner is a cook, food writer, co-owner of Hepple Spirits, and host of Kitchen on the Edge of the World at Holmen Lofoten in Norway