Cool as a cucumber

"Pert as a pear-monger I'd be,

If Molly were but kind;

Cool as a cucumber could see

The rest of womankind"

John Gay 1732

I was going to have picture of a cool cucumber here, but when I saw this I just couldn't resist. I don't think it's an old painting - it's from a website called Mahjong Solitaire that features a language in Russian type script and which has this translation at the end: "Micro detailing, Concept, Close-up, Lumen, Octane, Dark botanical" . Does that mean it's an AI painting? All there is are the words from the poem above and the picture. So very evocative of the first line there, however. How fascinating to think that there were once people who only sold pears. Although they surely must have switched to selling other things at different times of the year? Pears are seasonal after all.

I'm already digressing from my original concept of cucumbers and yoghurt, and I will come back to that, but just to finish the digression. I decided on my not very clever title 'Cool as a cucumber' and set out to find where the phrase came from, and found that it came from a poem by this eighteenth century poet - John Gay - he who also wrote The Beggar's Opera. The full poem, from Poems, New Song on New Similes, 1732 is as follows:

"My passion is as mustard strong;

I sit all sober sad;

Drunk as a piper all day long;

Or like March-hare mad.

Round as a hoop the bumpers flow;

I drink, yet can't forget her;

For though as drunk as David's sow,

I love her still the better.

Pert as a pear-monger I'd be,

If Molly were but kind;

Cool as a cucumber could see

The rest of womankind"

It's apparently the first time the phrase 'cool as a cucumber' was used with the meaning that we know today - both the meaning that is sort of 'cool cat' and also the definition, as in the Cambridge dictionary: "very calm or very calmly, especially when this is surprising". Lots of food and drink in that short poem, so perhaps it's appropriate. Fundamental conclusion of the poem? If Molly was kind to him then he would be relaxed enough to see other women as well - which seems to suggest that if love is reciprocated then you can relax enough to pursue other women as well. Or have I misinterpreted here? I confess I'm a bit confused by the last two lines. Anyway - mildly interesting and nothing to actually do with cucumbers.

So why am I writing about cucumbers? Well yesterday we had friends around for lunch and part of the spread was this Smacked cucumber salad with radishes and sumac onions which I have to say was pretty nice and went perfectly with the Courgette and chick-pea 'meatballs' in spicy tomato sauce, which were indeed a little bit spicy - and very tasty if a bit of a faff to make. I kept on making minor mistakes, by not reading the recipe properly and putting some spices and herbs in before I was supposed to, which didn't really matter when it came down to it. The point, however, is that the cucumbers, combined with the radishes and the yoghurt were just the perfectaccompaniment. All cool. In every sense of the word.

This particular dish also neatly slotted into the one of Nigel Slater's first recipes project - the ones I have been occasionally riffing on. This was an item he called A Cucumber labneh. There was no picture in The Cook's Book, but the same mix appears here and there on the net - the recipe in The Guardian is complete with a picture. When I read the recipe in The Cook's Book I thought it sounded like a sort of tzatziki and it sort of is, but as you can see here it's more cucumber than yoghurt. And it is labneh, not yoghurt, which he describes thus:

"Once a week, usually on Saturday, I make labneh. I stir a teaspoon of sea salt and a little lemon juice into a tub of yoghurt, pour it into a sieve I have lined with muslin and let it quietly drip overnight into a bowl. The next morning there is a pool of the milky whey that has seeped drop by drop through the cloth, and a snow-white parcel of curds firm enough to spread."

It's a habit for him and since The Cook's Book is a relatively recent publication one assumes it's a habit in which he still indulges. A habit which:

"came from trips to the Middle East, where dishes of labneh greeted this early riser, together with sheets of warm, undulating bread and tiny glass bowls of jam. Not the proudly set stuff we excel at here, but softly set, syrupy preserves of rose, cherry and fig; jams that fall easily from the spoon. Add a wedge of watermelon and a rust-freckled apricot and I’m not sure there could be a more beautiful breakfast." Nigel Slater

Alas I could not find a picture of such a dream breakfast - something I could have concocted at a Dubai hotel buffet breakfast I have no doubt. The nearest I could find was the above from Maggie Beer, which I think is in spirit at least, what he is getting at.

So since I really meant to be focussing on Nigel Slater's cucumber labne, prodded by Ottolenghi's salad, I searched a little further and found that Nigel does indeed like to use his labneh - often with eggplant in the mix - as in these two dishes: Stuffed aubergine with cucumber and labneh and Aubergine, mint and cucumber yoghurt.

And you really shouldn't just throw away the liquid that drips out of the yoghurt. It's a kind of whey after all and can be used as a brine, in soups, as a replacement for water to cook rice, or added to anything that needs stock - do half and half stock and whey. We never think about doing that do we? Or else some of us foodie nerds do think of keeping it to do all those clever things, and then don't do them, leaving the whey in the fridge so long that it eventually has to be thrown out.

And here's a thought - someone who is considered to be 'cool as a cucumber' is sort of 'hot'.

Finally another digression. My first course yesterday was just a series of dips - no cucumber, yoghurt or labne involved, but I needed some accompanying bread, and was going to just buy some Turkish bread from the local supermarket. But I forgot it even though it was clearly written on my shopping list, so I admitted to myself that I really had to make some flatbreads, which I had thought about but decided it was all too much and anyway I was no good at flatbreads. But needs must, so I started searching and people, I found the first recipe that made pretty perfect flatbreads - courtesy of Nigel, but not Nigel's recipe.

It's actually Paul Hollywood's flatbreads - and they were the first flatbreads I have made that puffed up perfectly. Mine weren't as charred as these, but that's not necessarily a problem. Just a case of not cooking it as long I guess. Anyway this is a keeper recipe and I shall be using it again. I could not find an 'official' recipe online - other than Nigel's reported one (the link above), but I did find a Paul Hollywood video in which he made almost identical ones. Although (a) there was oil in the mix instead of butter and (b) he did not leave them as long to rise. So maybe I should try them next time. Mind you they did not look quite as fluffy as the ones in the picture and the ones I made. Maybe it's all in how thick you roll them out. Actually I didn't roll them out. I just pressed the balls of dough flat and then stretched them out a bit with my hand.

So there you are - 'cool as a cucumber'. I rather liked this idea - slice a few pieces of cucumber very thinly, put in one of those iceblock trays which are round, fill with water and freeze. Put into drinks, or just water.

I grew some cucumber a couple of years ago and I have to say they were so much better than the shop-bought thing. Must try again.

POSTSCRIPT

September 26 in years gone by

2023 - L'apéro

2022 - Washing up

2021 - A word from - Simon Hopkinson

2020 - Tarragon

2019 - First recipe part one - Family cookbooks

2018 - Gulyás, goulash or pörkölt

2017 - Marshmallows

2016 - Cappuccino