HUNTER-GATHERING: wild & fresh food

NEW WEBSITE & 2013 COURSES.

We have a brand spanking new website at: 

www.huntergathercook.com

Please drop by and check out who we are, what we do and our epic courses for 2013!

Treehouses & Clay Ovens...

By gad...what a week! I haven't stopped for little more than food (not sure that anyone says 'by gad' anymore- I certainly don't, but I'm taking back!). Since coming back from France its been non-stop: Building a tree house for the Times Home Section in two days (I'd recommend building one in four), It was a superb weekend with James and his family all getting involved- never seen a 4 year old using a power drill! Also been doing the build at Safari Britain, where I managed to receive a double blow to the head from a pair of ash rafters dropping out of the crown whilst setting up the yurt...not recommended.

 

Things are moving along nicely at  moving along at HGC Headquarters. I have been lining up some interesting posts to follow, but with so much on at the moment just a quick update...pictorially.

The clay oven has come along nicely- a bit of a step up from the my last effort whilst tree- dwelling, I just have to do a bit of nip and tuck on the entrance. Thankfully I had the help of some fine instructions from this lad: Simon Brookes guide to building a clay oven.

Knowland's wood- where the HGC headquarters resides is looking beautiful, wood anemones first followed by the delightful onslaught of the bluebells. My new landlord very kindly helped me out with some timber for the HQ, we spent a morning cutting some oak trunks from the wood- so far everything in the off-grid HQ has come from the wood- making me feel particularly smug about my carbon footprint! (save all the fires I will be burning throughout the summer...)

Hope you are enjoying spring and the gradual transition to summer, if you fancy a day or even an overnight course in becoming a 21st century hunter-gatherer- get in touch!

Winter in the trees...

 

There’s no denying that life in the treehouse over winter would have been a fairly miserable existence: Life would be dull, I would spend most of the time collecting and cutting wood…pots of elbow grease would be used up without the use of a chainsaw, and the wild larder would be pretty bare. The treehouse itself seems to be holding up rather well bar the odd dribble of water here and there, the wood, devoid of the vivid green of the summer months seems cold and uninviting…

Today I trekked through the snow for an hour or two (the country lanes wouldn’t support anything less than a 4x4) to go and see my old house and spend a bit of time enjoying the absolute muffled silence that comes with a heavy snowfall.

The End?

 “This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.”

Winston Churchill.

 It was around this time last year that, after a particularly expensive trip to the butchers, I got home and sat on the sofa thinking how ludicrous the price of meat has become. That was when I began thinking how nice it would be if meat was free, then I began thinking about all the other things that “could” be free. A couple of hours later I had decided that come Spring the following year, I would build a treehouse and live off the land for 6 months. I suppose, at the time, it was no more than pure fantasy.

Mastering the self timer…

 

I took on the massive responsibility of doing all the photography for my forthcoming book about my time in a tree…a daunting prospect indeed. Most of the time it is only me down here, so I (at the mercy of Nikon’s terms) have become a bona fide master of the self timer…sort of.

Whilst perusing through the photo library to get rid of any dead wood, I came across these shots. Now some are due to fish misbehaving (slippery buggers) and others are taken in that moment you know it is too late for suitable posing, so inevitably you do something stupid…perhaps these are the pictures that were never meant to be posted, but the self timer has become a large part of Treehouse living and its only fair to show a few!

I apologise for the blatant humanity and lewdness of some...but such is life!

 

 

 

You can guess at the use of profanity here after dropping a large pike that was reluctant to have it's picture taken.

The First Attempt.

With my time in the treehouse drawing to a close, I have become increasingly pensive. What lead me down this path and why? It was with such things in mind that I decided to take a trip down memory lane and head over to the depths of Ashdown Forest: my stomping ground from the age I could walk till the midst of my adolescent youth.

They say some things are best left in the past, in this case seeing what the nouveau-riche scum that now resided in the old Weston homestead had done was appalling. Gone was the orchard and many of the trees I first clambered up, the gardens: landscaped and covered with disgusting moulded statues of naked ladies…clearly money can’t buy taste!

Decoying for Snacks...

 

One thing I am always on the lookout for down in the woods is a tasty snack: a quick-fix solution for a rumbling stomach that doesn’t need skinning, cleaning or cooking first. There have been a variety of different treehouse titbits: Pickled eggs, pickled samphire, flatbreads & stinger pesto, apples, stock cubes & boiling water, blackberries…etc. Now autumn has arrived Chestnuts and hazel nuts are becoming incredibly popular.

A snackfood down here needs to be able to pack some serious protein for the amount of energy I use. Beef jerky or biltong have always been good friends of mine, so much so that I got my hands on a biltong machine and posted the results here sometime ago. Without a fridge or freezer, a glut of meat needs to be processed for future use. My degree in archaeology, in which I specialised in Hunter-gatherer societies finally becomes handy…what to do?

The Treehouse diaries: 10 things I hate about you…(or is that love?)

Living in the branches in a house you’ve built with your bare hands, gleaning the surrounding landscape for food can seem like an idyllic way of life…really living each day to the full. True it is amazing, but it comes with a list as long as my arm of things that are an absolute pain in the arse!

I have narrowed it down to 10 things which really get my goat, so before you think about moving to the trees and living in la-la land, please consider the following carefully:

 

 

1: Squirrels using my corrugated iron roof for drum practise as soon as the sun comes up: It’s great having a natural alarm clock you can rely on, but not when there is no need to be up for 6am…many a time have I run onto the balcony in boxer shorts with loaded shotgun in hand hoping for an easy breakfast and a couple more hours kip.

A sign of the Times…

It seems Treehouses have become all the rage this year, I for one can see/ have felt the attraction, so when the Sunday Times asked if they could pop down, The last thing I expected was to be on the front cover of the home section…

 

Although it happened some time ago now, I have debated over whether or not it would be considered vulgar to post it on the blog. Mainly because my ugly mug is in the foreground! For me the Treehouse is the star of this show and without it, I would have no roof over my head.

 

 

I have added the article for those of you who wish to have a read, but then if you have been following the blog…you already know what life in the trees has been like!

 

 

 

 

As I approach my final month in the woods and the seasons begin to turn, I am filled sadness at having to leave my arboreal home…what will become of it? I have a few ideas…we shall see.

 

 

Homemade Cheeeeee-eeeese!: Basic, simple, easy Cheese.

 

“A dessert without cheese is like a beautiful women with only one eye”.

Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin.

 

Of all the Garbage that came out of this particular French Gastranome’s mouth, this is the only real gem. The more well-known and much publicised “Tell me what you eat and I will tell you what you are” have graced many a food writer’s page- clearly a quote for the uninspired…

Badger: Roadkill burgers...

 

There comes a time in your life, when, if you wish to try something new and exotic you have to go the extra mile. Now, I don’t often take road kill home for the pot, in fact this would be a first. I like to go and shoot/trap my meat this assures me of freshness, a factor that you can only use your nose to rely on when it comes to picking up dead animals from the side of the road. I must stress there are a few “disturbing” pictures in this post of a badger being taken apart for which I do apologise…but then again, this is where my meat comes from, so I would urge you to look on.

Badger meat is something that has come under serious scrutiny over years. Fair enough. I certainly would never shoot one or even speed up the car to take out one of these fantastic bumbling creatures. I am extremely fond of badgers; one of my favourite countryside moments was watching 10 of the black and white beasts rolling around outside their burrows for a good half hour (downwind of course).  So this delve into the wild larder was going to be a difficult one, curiosity had the better of me: what can I say?

The Treehouse diaries: The things people say…

 

Telling people of your present circumstances is always going to provoke a barrage of questions if you happen to be living in a treehouse. I have had a huge variety, some serious, some hilarious and some confused, from the camo-wrapped survival geek, the overenthusiastic Radio DJ to the mum with three kids: all have surprised me, shocked me and in some cases I have been the one furrowing my brow and scratching my head.

 

The bulk of the interrogation has come from Safari Britain, where I have been teaching foraging over the summer. A lot of the campers are families from London and naturally large groups of energetic, enthusiastic city kids, suddenly unrestrained from the confines of London parks. Showing said children the fine art of gutting and jointing a rabbit or peeling a squirrel give the children plenty of gore factor to take home, as well as various parts of animal anatomy. 

 

“Can I have the head?”

The Treehouse Diaries: Blackberry Fool!

 

It’s been sometime since I have dedicated an entry to a single recipe…it’s been a bit treehouse filled of late. So much of the food I have had come and go through the outdoor kitchen has been truly memorable and most of it photographed for future use. But at what point does photographing every stage of an exploit detract from the fun and experience of taking part in escapade to begin with?

 

There are so many things down here That I want to capture, write up and tell the world so everyone can take home a little piece but sometimes there is too much (good thing I’m writing a book to put it all in to)! Nothing gives me greater pleasure than to cook a meal or do something without having to consider it for books, blogs, so on and so forth. Perhaps these are the moments the magic really happens and things move at the pace they should rather than having to wait for the sun to come out again to take that so-important shot…

The Treehouse diaries: Coracling the Sussex Waterways…

Been a while! The last week has seen all sorts of action…the coracle/ canoe trip to the coast has been the highlight and was, like most unplanned journeys, full of surprises! I have also taken on the daunting task of keeping my landlords animals alive- 6 cats, 6 chickens, 1 huge pig and a little pony. Chickens, as we all know, lay eggs (but what came first?), this has meant a new introduction to the diet and I get about 3 eggs a day for the next 3 weeks! Omelettes, scrambled eggs…pickled eggs?

 

This post is all about the boat trip. I was fortunate enough to have the company and photographic genius of the Hungry cyclist on this escapade, most of the photos here are his- and very good they are too!

 

The Treehouse diaries: Nick Weston is away...

 

Like A.A.Gill, I will be away this week making a dash for the coast in my new coracle: Frank. Frank, myself and the Hungry Cyclist will be making our way through the Sussex countryside and with any luck reach the coast sometime on Friday where we shall pop a cork on some elderflower champers and maybe even give Frank a dousing...

 

I had a bit of a recce with a friend to check out the upper reaches of the river: lots of fat blackberries for munching, sharp thorns, low branches, running aground and irate women who think they own the river and that we might be "scaring" her cows...honestly, some people! 

 

 

So, expect a full write up next week and some interesting pics. Also please have a look at the Sunday Times "Home" section this weekend to see a bit of the inside of my home in the branches. You can also reach huntergathercook with www.thetreehousediaries.com

You can also follow me on twitter: https://twitter.com/manupatree

Have a lovely week!

The Treehouse diaries: Visitors Ahoy!

The last week has been great- I have had the pleasure of talking to other people rather than myself for a change! On Friday I had a visit from a lovely pair from ZDF German TV (!) Who brought me some curry sauce, 2 bottles of red, a cake and some hobnobs- luxury! I also witnessed one of the more surreal moments of treehouse living- a man filming my loo…well, hey, shit happens (no pun intended).

 

 

Mushrooms, The Media and a Man bearing gifts...

It’s been rather a strange week. Tuesday began like any other day, except a bit earlier- I was off to teach Foraging on the South downs, so after making a fire and heating up water for a shower I went on my merry way. I was aware that an article on my treehouse life had been written and was due to be published in the Evening Standard later that day- by 10am the phone wouldn’t stop ringing with allsorts of media types getting “on it”.

 

 After teaching I had to race home to meet a BBC crew so they could film a bit of my treehouse life and then do a live feed. Sattelite trucks, cars, vans and cables where waiting for me when I returned- what was this! It was great fun having them down and explain what and why I was doing this, but most of all seeing how the news is made and brought to us and the ridiculous deadline they have to edit, set up etc! Following the Standard was the London Paper, London Lite, BBC Radio Kent, ITV meridian and most amusing of all the Mail online which with incredible accuracy and attention to detail, penned me as a “city highflyer” and a “Businessman”- Quite frankly the only business I have ever done has been in the confines of a bathroom, but anyway….

If you would like to see the BBC news video of their visit to the treehouse and get a better idea of my crib- please click here.

The Treehouse diaries: Of Marrows & Meadowsweet…

 

Well, Scotland was grand, but I have returned with an absurd enthusiasm and I find myself trying to do everything at once…not possible! On the first day back down I went out to secure some protein for a slap up supper chez treehouse. Carrying an air rifle the size of this one makes me feel like I should be out sniping the Taliban or knocking flat Charlie in the dense Vietnamese jungle…so naturally to achieve such a look (and for practicality actually- you can’t look through a scope with a flat cap forwards!) I had to go all Samuel L. Jackson with the headgear. After creeping along the hedgerow, I had a nice fat rabbit in the bag for supper and my rabbit skin rug would cover a little more floor space.

 

The Treehouse diaries: In Print, Perch and outwitting Pigeons.

 

(Giving it some "blue steel" in the living room...)

This week brought the rain. It was inevitable, a good stretch of close, hazy summer days was bound to end with a bang. That bang began with the pitter-patter of raindrops on my tin roof as I sat by the stove updating my diary. A flash followed by a low rumble and the drumming began, I had felt rather cosy in my dry arboreal dwelling, the corrugated iron roof was holding up well to the downpour. Iron roof…big tree tall tree running through house…lightening! Shit!

Despite putting on the thickest rubber soled shoes I had on (reef shoes) and going to sit under the treehouse while the storm passed and count the seconds between flashing and rumbling, I was in the middle of a wood with plenty of other trees. Perhaps more desirable, isolated objects would be better targets?

The Treehouse Diaries: Burnt Bread, Fish, Showers and a Bench…

 

It has been sweltering this week, my feet have forgotten what socks are (and shoes for that matter) and I have been wearing the same shorts all week, I certainly didn’t expect to revert to my Cook Island Lifestyle in this country!  Of course this weather has meant I have been able to get up close and personal with the river, both in terms of swimming, fishing and exploring.

 

The river has been furnishing my table well, As we have been approaching a full moon, I have been setting nightlines like a man possessed, as a result, plenty of eels now swim freely in my “freshwater fridge”: a large net in a secluded pool downstream. Having a good stock of fish readily available has meant less time on the hunt and more time enjoying life down here and coming up with crackpot schemes and bizarre plans for the months ahead, not to mention a little hammock time…

 

 

The Treehouse Diaries: Solstice, Stonehenge and fooling about with ovens…

 

Summer solstice was an important date back in the day. Not only was it a chance for old men in white robes with impressive grey beards to feel uber important for the day, but it was also a sign that summer had truly begun…and by my count it certainly has! The weather has been delightful, making treehouse living, perhaps, the only way to live.

Rather than battle the 36,500 strong crowd down in Somerset this year, I decided to bring Stonehenge to me. A little difficult perhaps, but then who needs the crusty hippies, men in white cloaks and drunken revellers finishing up their Saturday night bender stumbling around our greatest landmark…no, no this was to be a much more civilised affair.

The Treehouse diaries: Time for the River to Deliver…

 

A glorious thing began today…the start of a new fishing season! Time to put aside all the poorer days of angling (why is it called angling?!) by the river bank last year and dream of pulling out lunkers and battling with beasts in the year to come. Although this year, I am going to have to rely on luck by the riverbank more than ever…a man has to eat.

An important factor to keep in mind when relying on my little stretch of river to provide me with food, is to use it sparingly. Fish stocks and sustainability are tremendously important and I must not get too greedy or take more than I need-after last nights escapades, it seems the eel could be at the top of the hit list.

The Treehouse Diaries: Everything comes together…and somewhere to lay my head.

 

Again apologies for the lack of recipes, after all this began as a food blog but has slowly transformed into some kind of monster…and something to do with treehouses. There will be plenty of good’uns as the weeks roll on; I just need somewhere to live first.

 

The hardest part of this whole project is my stupid, unyielding fetish for perfection. I want lots of natural features, everything has to look just right…don’t even get me started on the functionality of the place! So, making it all come together has been no picnic, and I know that once the building finishes the furnishings (the fun bit) come next, along with the previously mentioned anality of perfection.

The Treehouse Diaries: A roof and four walls...almost.

 

I must apologise for the lack of food updates of late- there has just been so much building going on I feel that must come first, once that has calmed down (give it a week or two), there will be more bits and bobs from the hedgerow than you could ever find in Huge Furry-Whippingtool’s big shaggy mane.

As I mentioned last week, I had the good fortune to have a visit from the Hungry Cyclist (to see a full account of our escapades please check out his blog). Oh, and if you wish to see how we cooked a leg of lamb in an underground oven click here.Tom was a massive help on the roofing front as well as force feeding me chicken hearts (actually no forcing was necessary- they are incredible and at £1.90/Kg, an absolute steal! Douse with a little Tabasco and lemon juice to serve). 

The Treehouse Diaries: A Throne fit for a king and…Jeff.

The days seem weeks ago and the weeks seem months ago. Things are so hectic down here I don’t know where to begin! I have just returned from a rather damp day of teaching foraging on the South Downs after 2 nights nestled in the newly roofed treehouse. The last few days have been grand, I have had the fine company of Tom Kevill-Davies a.k.a The Hungry Cyclist, the author of a book I am reading at the moment- and a terrific one at that, check out his blog for an update on his treehouse experience- the first of many!

With work progressing at an obscene pace, it is hard to know what to tell about and when…so I thought I would update you with one of the latest developments: a rather essential piece of kit and a very important one, if I ever wish to have the girlfriend down again…

 

The Treehouse Diaries: Finished platform and something to lean on...

 

This week I have mostly been…wet. A little rain cannot dampen the spirits when embarking on an adventure like this, every hour or so when I’m cursing a drill bit flying into my finger or knocking the funny bone in the elbow so hard that the entire forearm goes numb, I do give myself a reality check: what else would I rather be doing? London seems a million miles away…

Note the precarious situations facing the platform builder:

The Treehouse diaries: Busy, busy, busy….Knackered!

 

I always knew this project was going to be hard work, it now seems I drastically underestimated just how much! But, I’m truly loving every minute, even manhandling misshapen bits of 18mm ply down to the treehouse is a gleeful experience, I think if everyone’s front door to the workplace looked like mine lined with row upon row of bluebells (see above), then moods would be at a constant high.

 

Despite having my hands torn to shreds and beginning to look like I’ve had acupuncture from Sweeney Todd, Things are moving at a smooth, unfaltering pace. I have had a few mishaps: I am starting to concentrate more on furnishings rather than the house itself (lets face it, decking out a crib with some fly gear is always top of the list…shizzle?). A week ago I decided it was time to build one of the most practical pieces needed for any Treehouse- the Ladder.

The Treehouse diaries: Up, up and away!

 

Its amazing what you can achieve with a saw, drill, hammer, ratchet, some ladders, a couple of people to help you out and a large dose of fine British, spring sunshine. I had not been able to take my eye of the thick black lettering, scrawled across Saturday 25^th April in my diary: PUT UP TREEHOUSE FOUNDATIONS!

For the past few months my friends and family, especially Clare, have had to endure my constant rambling banter about how I’m going to build a Treehouse and live in it for six months, without seeing any tangible evidence of me holding true to my word. I suspect there have been plenty of raised eyebrows and a lot of “yeah right!” flying about. But now, it all seems so real…so real, I am a little nervous, D-day has arrived and the dream is about to become reality.

The Treehouse diaries: Bertha comes Alive!

 

I hate working with metal, it’s cold and impersonal. I much prefer wood: its warm and friendly and gives off the air that it is content with being shaped when you draw a blade or saw to it. Metal on the other hand gets pissed off as soon as you go near it with a power tool,it screams out in a most aggressive way. I knew that making Bertha a reality was going to be difficult for me.

 

To turn a steel drum into something useful takes a lot of noise and a lot of graft. Once I had stolen Bertha away from her life as an oil skivvy, she had to be ritually cleansed. To achieve this I had to light a fire in her belly to remove all the oil from her past life. 

 

When I first stuck the newspaper and kindling into my future best friend, I felt content that this was the rehab that she needed to become the ultimate wood-burning stove. The paper caught fire, the wood went up and flames coughed out of the top as if they had shot out of a dragons nostril. The oil began to crackle and spit and the flames shooting out the top were getting bigger. It was at this point that I began to think: "Bugger! Something’s not right here". The sheer ferocity of the burning oil was a tad scary. It was like seeing a mini power station, screwing over the ozone in my back yard.

The Treehouse diaries: The “Unit” arrives…

 

Another weekend in Sussex and a trip over to the Kent/Sussex border to where my Treehouse wood sits dormant ready for the intense excitement of the summer to begin. The River Medway has dropped a fair bit since I was last down and looks just as full of fish as it ever has…and the weather, I think spring has finally blessed the country with her long awaited annual appearance.

So what happened this weekend? What trinkets did I manage to acquire to help me on my quest for self-sufficiency? The “Unit” arrived. Contrary to popular belief, a “Unit” is not always the name for a ridiculously obese female, in these circumstances, the “Unit” refers to my central heating unit, my source of warmth, cooking and kettle-boiling all rolled into one.