Serves 4
Crackling & damsons
Summer
I have this idea in my mind, like an imprecise memory: I’ve been walking with friends, along a high and long stretch of Dorset coastline. The footpaths that skirt the sheer fall to the ocean are kept trim by hardy sheep. It’s autumn, the wind is strong but not cold; the sky is grey, but no rain falls. Gulls and ravens swing east and west on the up-draft. A little kestrel hangs still above the bracken, then plummets. It begins to rain, but in the near distance the pub looks warm. We go in and order pints of light ales and some whiskey. The owner brings out crackling with a damson compote. (This recipe is my attempt to make that idea a reality.)