The sap won’t be rising for a few weeks, but when it does you need to be ready to tap it

Nothing in the forager’s calendar is more seasonal than birch sap. Blackberries, wild garlic and most other wild foods are around for months; with birch sap you have two weeks, three at the most. In Dorset, where I live, it is approximately the middle two weeks of March, but it can be slightly earlier or later, depending on the weather. It may seem a little early to talk about it now but you do need to be prepared for birch tapping – mentally, physically and administratively – so I am giving you a head start.

I am going to come clean. I do not see the point of birch sap wine. With most alcoholic drinks the ingredients are there to provide the flavour or the sugar and sometimes both. Birch sap wine contains very little of either so it cannot do these things – it just supplies the water. But I know that a lot of people swear by the stuff and will disagree with my dismissal of what they consider to be a first class wine. If you like birch sap wine let me know and tell me why I am wrong. No, really.

Having said all that, I do love collecting birch sap so, apart from the odd batch of wine to remind myself how right I am, I make birch sap syrup to pour on my pancakes. I boil the fresh sap down until half of the water has gone, then transfer to a bain-marie (to stop it “burning”) and continue until only 10% is left. I then strain out all the bits through some muslin and add sugar to form the syrup. You can reduce it all the way to a syrup (less than 2% of what you started with!) without adding the sugar but the flavour is far too strong and bitter for most people.

So how do you go about collecting this arcane ingredient? First, of course, you will need to find some mature silver birch trees with trunks at least 25cm in diameter (downy birch won’t work) and obtain permission to drill holes in them from the owner – not always easy. (The ones outside the Tate Modern in London are too small, by the way).

You’ll also need some kit. A hand drill and drill bit, a bucket to collect the sap (I sometimes use a four litre milk container with a hole strategically cut in the side near the top), some tapered wooden plugs (candle waxed at the sharper end to seal them), a mallet and something to carry the sap home in.

You will also need some spigots or spiles. These are virtually impossible to obtain in the UK so you will have to find them online from Canada or the US where they are uses for sugar maple tapping. You can rig up something with tubes and pipes but I have never been able to stop it all leaking. Check, using a scrap of wood, that your plugs and spiles tightly match the drill bit you will be taking with you.

Off to the woods. Drill a slightly upward slanting 5cm deep hole into your chosen tree at waist height. If nothing comes out when you are half way in, the tree is dry. Stop drilling, hammer in a plug and try another tree. After three no-shows it will be worth waiting another week. If all is well, hammer in a spile, hook on your bucket through the little hole you will have made in the rim and cover it. Come back the next day to collect your sap – if you are lucky you will get about two to three litres from each tree. Very carefully plug the holes – if you don’t the sap will continue to flow and the poor tree may not recover from this added insult.

Birch sap tastes almost exactly like water – but the freshest water you have ever tasted, with just a hint of sweetness (0.7% sugar is the highest I have ever found). It does not keep very long – about four days in the fridge – so use it as soon as you can. Here is how you make the wine.

4.5 litres of birch sap
200ml white grape juice concentrate
Juice from two lemons
1.2 kg white sugar
Sachet white wine yeast
Yeast nutrient – follow instructions on packet

Gently heat the sap in a pan with the lid on to 75C and keep at that temperature for 20 minutes. Take off the heat and stir in the sugar until it is dissolved. Closely cover the pan and allow to cool. Transfer to a fermentation bucket and add the lemon juice, grape juice concentrate, yeast and yeast nutrients.

Keep the bucket closely covered for five days then siphon into a demi-john, fit the bubble-trap and leave for about two months. Rack-off into a fresh demi-john and bottle when it is all nice and clear. This stuff goes bad for a pastime, so be extra careful making sure everything is sterile and the bottles well sealed.

The flavour? Light, dry, fruity, with a faint piquancy of wet paper bag.

‘It’s still surprising you don’t tend to find people enthusing about inexpensive bordeaux the way they do about rioja’

Given the hype that surrounds the annual release of the top growths, it’s easy to forget how affordable most Bordeaux is. Or how much of it there is – its vineyards cover 10 times the area of Alsace and five times that of Burgundy.

True, modern tastes seem to run more to lusher cabernets and merlots from, say, Chile which is perhaps why so many producers are now releasing wines at 14% abv plus, a level of alcohol I don’t really think suits this traditionally medium-bodied, food-friendly wine. But it’s still surprising you don’t tend to find people enthusing about inexpensive bordeaux the way they do about rioja.

Tasting my way through 30-odd wines under £10 for this article, I’d also say it was more reliable than it’s ever been. Admittedly, most were 2009 and 2010 – both good vintages – but there were surprisingly few dud bottles.

I even found two sub £5 bordeaux that were perfectly drinkable: Lidl’s 2010 Bordeaux (12.5% abv) at the ridiculously cheap price of £3.69, which would be fine with plain English food such as shepherd’s pie, and Aldi’s easygoing Bordeaux Supérieur 2009 (£4.99; 13% abv), which is made in a softer, more contemporary style.

If you’re prepared to overlook the slightly naff label, Wine Rack branches have the well structured supple La Vieille Tour de Seguin 2009 (£7.69, plus another 10% off if you buy any six bottles; 13.5% abv). And Adnams Cellar & Kitchen shops stock the fragrant Chateau du Pin Bordeaux 2009 (£7.99; 14% abv), which you might be able to kid less knowledgable (or sozzled) friends is the iconic Le Pin. They also have an “Affordable Bordeaux” offer on at the moment – £99 for a 12-bottle case – which you might fancy if you want to explore what bordeaux at this price has to offer.

Just nudging the £10 mark, I’d recommend the supple, graceful Chateau Tour de Biot 2008 from Berry Bros & Rudd (which should be back in stock again next week at £9.15; 13.5% abv) and Chateau Civrac‘s Element 2009 (£8.75 at Wadebridge Wines, £8.91 at The Sampler and £8.95 at Vinoteca – check wine-searcher.com for other stockists; 12.5% abv), a fresh, fruity versatile merlot you could easily drink with a robust fish dish such as roast cod and bacon or seared tuna.

Expect more dramatic offers on bordeaux in the runup to Christmas, but be wary. They may be from lesser vintages and won’t necessarily drink better than these regular stalwarts.

fibeckett@live.com
Photographs: Full Stop Photography

guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle

The fruit of the rowan or mountain ash is left untouched by bird and beast alike, but there is one very good use for these bright red berries

I have never understood the draw of birdwatching – birds are boring creatures and keep moving about. Taste nice though. Birders no doubt feel the same about the appeal for mushroom hunters. On a British Mycological Society foray to Gibraltar Point once, our group was questioned by an incredulous flock of birdwatchers – “What on earth are you doing?” they demanded. They were walking around with their eyes raised to the sky, we with our eyes to the ground. Perhaps my disinterest in things ornithological will explain a gap in my understanding.

I pick berries every year, but I seldom see birds eating them and hardly ever find a tree which has enjoyed their attentions – elderberries and cherries being exceptions. Some of our trees are burdened with berries until Christmas. One tree, despite its reputation as a good food source for our avian friends, seems to bear its fruit, untouched, for nearly half of the year. It is the rowan or mountain ash.

The fruiting seasons have come early this year and rowan berries have been around for at least of couple of weeks. The rowan is an easy tree to identify despite the fact that sprays of red berries appear on several other small trees such as whitebeam and guelder rose. The leaves are pinnate, that is, they are made up of opposite pairs of leaflets. The tree grows just about everywhere from suburban street to Scottish mountainside so you will not have any trouble finding one.

The uncooked berries are slightly poisonous and a small nibble proves they taste awful (perhaps the reason the birds avoid them). The sharpness is not too bad, it is the bitter aftertaste and high pip density that spoils this tempting looking fruit. Certainly rowan berries have found little use in the kitchen, rowan jelly being its main defence against foraging oblivion.

But there is rowan berry wine. The earliest mention of an alcoholic drink using the berries I can find comes from the late eighteenth century – “The poorer sort of people in Wales make a drink called diodgriafel by infusing the berries in water” it says. The same story appears again and again in later works – it may be a figment of the original writer’s imagination for all I know, but I would be interested to hear if anyone else has heard of diodgriafel. In any case, the following simple recipe (brewing away in my shed as I write) is from my friend Erin and likely to be more palatable:

2kg rowanberries, snipped off with scissors, picked over and washed
1.2kg sugar
500ml white grape juice concentrate
Juice of 2 lemons
1 tsp of wine tannin
1 tsp pectolase
1 tsp yeast nutrient
Sachet of white wine yeast
About 4 litres of boiling water

Put the berries in a food grade plastic bucket and mash them coarsely with the end of a rolling pin. Boil the water then stir in the sugar until dissolved, bring to the boil again and immediately pour over the berries. Cover and allow to cool. Add the grape concentrate, pectolase, lemon juice and tannin. Cover and leave for 24 hours then stir in the yeast nutrient and yeast (activated if necessary).

Cover and leave for a week, stirring every day for the first five days. If your brew has separated nicely into three layers – sludge / liquid / sludge – carefully place the end of a siphon at a strategic height and siphon off the liquid into a clean demi-john – though a bit of sludge won’t hurt. Otherwise strain through clean muslin using a funnel. Top up to the bottom of the neck with boiled and cooled water if necessary. Fit your bung and fermentation lock and leave to ferment for a couple of months.

Rack off into a fresh demi-john and leave until all fermentation has stopped for a week, then bottle. Rowanberry wine benefits from a long maturation period in the bottle – at least a year.

guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle

A tasty, filling and quick lunch or supper

Tasty burgers and herby couscous make a delicious, substantial quick lunch or supper. Serves four.

For the burgers
500g minced lamb
1 small onion, peeled and grated
3 garlic cloves, peeled and minced
1 tsp ground sumac (optional)
½-1 tsp chilli flakes, depending on how hot you want them
½ tsp ground cumin
½ tsp flaky sea salt
1 tsp freshly ground black pepper
2 tbsp olive oil

For the minty yoghurt dressing
180g thick Greek yoghurt
1 tsp dried mint
1 good pinch salt

For the couscous
250g large-grain couscous
1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
Juice of 1 lemon
Zest of 1½ lemons
2 spring onions, white and pale green part only, trimmed and finely chopped
½ cucumber, cut into small dice
200g cherry tomatoes, halved
1 small handful parsley leaves, finely chopped
1 small handful coriander

leaves, finely chopped
10-12 mint leaves, finely chopped
1 tsp ground sumac (optional)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

In a large bowl, and using your hands, mix together all the ingredients for the burgers. Set aside for 10 minutes, to let the flavours to develop, while you prepare the dressing and couscous.

In a small bowl, mix together the ingredients for the minty yoghurt.

Cook the couscous according to the instructions on the packet. While it’s cooking, break off a walnut-sized piece of the burger mixture and fry it in a little oil until cooked. Taste and, if necessary, adjust the seasoning of the remaining raw burger mixture, then form into four 2cm-thick patties.

Warm the oil in a large frying pan over a medium-high heat. Fry the burgers for four minutes on one side, flip over and cook for two to three minutes on the other side – this will cook them medium-rare.

Drain the couscous. Add the olive oil, lemon juice and zest, and fluff with a fork. Stir in the remaining salad ingredients. Serve with the burgers and dollops of yoghurt.

Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s new book Veg: River Cottage Everyday, is published by Bloomsbury in October at £25. To pre-order a copy for £18 (including UK mainland p&p), go to guardian.co.uk/bookshop, or call 0330 333 6846.

Fiona Beckett’s drink match Lamb and cabernet sauvignon is always a good combo, but when the meat is spiced up as it is here, it’s best to choose a bold, blackcurranty style, such as Claro Cabernet Sauvignon 2010 from Chile’s Central Valley (£5.48, Asda; 13% abv), that will be able to stand up to the strong flavours.

guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle

A rich, moreish Iraqi-inspired combination of aubergine, egg, bread and all manner of other tasty goodies

Iraqi immigrants to Israel in the early 1950s brought with them the fascinating combination of fried aubergine and hard-boiled egg stuffed into fresh pitta (along with plenty of other big-flavoured ingredients). It sounds weird, but it’s one of the most exciting street foods you could wish to come across. This is a plated version. Zhoug is a wonderful Yemenite green chilli sauce, but to save time, a good commercial savoury chilli sauce will do. Other traditional elements are a sharp mango pickle and a good hummus, so add them, too, if you fancy. Serves four.

2 large aubergines
About 300ml sunflower oil
4 slices rustic white bread, toasted

4 free-range eggs, hard-boiled and cut into 1cm-thick slices
Salt and black pepper

For the tahini sauce
100g tahini paste
80ml water
20ml lemon juice
1 small garlic clove, crushed

For the salad
2 ripe tomatoes, cut into 1cm dice
2 mini cucumbers, cut into 1cm dice
2 spring onions, thinly sliced
1½ tbsp chopped parsley
2 tsp lemon juice
1½ tbsp olive oil

For the zhoug
35g coriander
20g parsley
2 green chillies
½ tsp ground cumin
¼ tsp ground cardamom
⅛ tsp sugar
¼ tsp salt
2 garlic cloves, crushed
3 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp water

Using a vegetable peeler, peel off strips of aubergine skin from top to bottom, so they end up like a zebra, with alternating black-and-white stripes. Cut both aubergines widthways into 2.5cm-thick slices.

Heat the sunflower oil in a wide pan. Carefully – the oil spits – fry the aubergine in batches until nice and dark, turning once, for six to eight minutes; add oil if needed as you cook the batches. When done, the aubergine should be completely tender in the centre. Remove from the pan, leave to drain on kitchen paper, then sprinkle with salt.

To make the zhoug, put all the ingredients in a food processor and blitz to a smooth paste. For the tahini sauce, put the tahini paste, water, lemon juice, garlic and a pinch of salt in a bowl. Mix well, and add a little more water, if needed, so its consistency is slightly runnier than honey. Make the salad by mixing the tomato, cucumber, spring onion, parsley, lemon juice and olive oil. Add salt and pepper to taste.

To serve, place a slice of bread on each plate. Spoon a tablespoon of tahini sauce over each, then arrange overlapping slices of aubergine on top. Drizzle over some more tahini, without completely covering the aubergines. Season each egg slice, and lay on top of the aubergine. Drizzle more tahini on top and spoon over as much zhoug as you like – be careful, it’s hot! Serve the salad on the side; spoon a little on top of each sabih, too, if you like. Store any leftover zhoug in a sealed container in the fridge – it will keep for a week at least.

Yotam Ottolenghi is chef/patron of Ottolenghi and Nopi in London.

Fiona Beckett’s drink match This is not a dish that would traditionally be drunk with alcohol, so I’d stick to a soft drink such as pomegranate juice or the interesting new Crone’s Apple & Sour Cherry Juice (£3.60, Vintage Roots).

guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle

Here’s something to get your claws into on a sunny day

You can make this with brown crab, but it’s worth searching out spider. Cook and pick the crab yourself, or get a fishmonger to do it; ask for the shells, too, as they’re great for serving it in, though individual gratin dishes, or one big one, will do. Serves four.

Olive oil
100g finely chopped leek, white part only
1 clove garlic, peeled and finely crushed
10 cherry tomatoes, quartered
80g brown spider crab meat
A pinch of saffron
1 small dried birds’ eye chilli
A splash of brandy
A splash of dry sherry
25ml double cream
150g white spider crab meat
1 tbsp chopped tarragon
Salt and pepper
1 handful fine breadcrumbs
1 tsp finely chopped parsley
1-2 small knobs butter

Heat two tablespoons of oil in a pan, add the leek, garlic and tomato, and cook for a minute or two. Stir in the brown meat, saffron and chilli, add the brandy and burn off the alcohol. Repeat with the sherry, then add the cream. Stir in the white meat, cook for a couple of minutes to combine the flavours, then add the tarragon and season to taste. Spoon into cleaned crab shells or gratin dish(es), sprinkle with breadcrumbs and parsley, dot with butter and grill until bubbling and golden. Serve with a wedge of lemon, crusty rustic bread and a summery salad.

Mitch Tonks is chef/co-patron of The Seahorse and Rockfish, both in Dartmouth, and Rockfish Grill in Bristol. His book, Fish: The Complete Fish and Seafood Companion, is published by Pavilion at £25 To order a copy for £20 (including UK mainland p&p), go to guardian.co.uk/bookshop. His follow-up book will be published next year.

Fiona Beckett’s drink match This rich dish needs a full-bodied white: try the lush Asda Extra Special Adelaide Hills Chardonnay 2009 (13% abv), made by Petaluma and brilliantly well priced at £8.67.

guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle

A gently spiced first course to get your meal off with a bang

Tawa jhinga is a type of griddle cooking carried out on a flat iron disc; it’s known as tak-a-tak in northern India and Pakistan.

2 tbsp vegetable oil
1 tsp ajwain seeds (they’re from the lovage family)
1 medium onion, peeled and finely chopped
1 green chilli, finely chopped
1 tsp grated ginger
3 medium tomatoes, chopped
12 large head-on prawns, deveined but shell left on
¼ tsp red chilli powder
1 tsp coriander powder
½ tsp turmeric powder
Salt (optional)
¼ tsp fenugreek leaf powder
¼ tsp garam masala
1 tbsp finely chopped coriander leaves
Mixed cress, to garnish

Heat the oil in a pan, add the ajwain seeds and, when they begin to sizzle, add the onion, chilli and ginger, and sauté until the onion is translucent. Add three-quarters of the tomatoes and cook until reduced to a nice, saucy consistency. Add the prawns, cook until they curl up, then add the powdered chilli, coriander and turmeric, plus a little salt, if using. Cook until prawns are done, stir in the remaining tomatoes, fenugreek and garam masala, and sauté for a minute or two more. Serve sprinkled with coriander and garnished with cress. Serve with chapati.

Atul Kochhar is chef/patron of Benares in London.

Fiona Beckett’s drink match Aromatic wines such as Argentina’s torrontés work really well with gently spiced dishes: try the Alma Andina Torrontés Sauvignon Blanc 2010 (£7.49 as part of a half-case, Laithwaites; 13.5% abv).

guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle

A light starter to kick off a summer’s meal

Yes, our asparagus season is over (sob!), but even with imported stuff, this is a lovely starter. Serves four.

2 bunches asparagus
Sea salt and black pepper
100ml olive oil, plus a bit extra
25ml red-wine vinegar
½ tsp Dijon mustard
100g goat’s cheese, crumbled
100g fresh peas, blanched
Fresh mint (chop it at the last minute, otherwise it’ll go black)
Grated zest of ½ lemon
1 handful mixed salad leaves
1 tsp pine nuts, toasted

Cut the woody ends off the asparagus spears, season and rub with a little olive oil. Heat a ridged griddle pan (a normal cast-iron frying pan will do, if need be) and griddle the asparagus for three minutes. Transfer to a bowl, add the oil, vinegar and mustard, and mix. Add the remaining ingredients and mix gently, so as not to bruise the leaves. Serve on a large plate, so everyone can help themselves.

Angela Hartnett is chef/patron of Murano, London W1. Her new book, A Taste Of Home, is published by Ebury at £25. To order a copy for £18.49, go to guardian.co.uk/ bookshop, or call 0330 333 6846.

Fiona Beckett’s drink match This dish is a shoo-in for sauvignon blanc, but try a lightly oaked one for a change, such as the gentle, aromatic Domaine Rives-Blanques Sauvageon 2009 Pays d’Oc (£12.25, Leon Stolarski; £12.99, Cambridge Wine Merchants; 13.5% abv).

guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle

A herby, citrussy filling works wonders on this seasonal fish dish

Ask your fishmonger to prepare the fish for you, if need be. Serves four.

4 500g-600g whole black bream, heads removed, butterflied and pin-boned

Sea salt and black pepper
8 large basil leaves
½ bunch coriander, leaves picked and chopped
Olive oil
16 large new potatoes, cooked
Juice of ½ lemon

Season the fish inside and out with sea salt. Divide the herbs between the cavity of each fish, then fold the fish up into its original shape, secure with a wooden skewer and season all over. Heat the oven to 200C/400F/gas mark 6. Place the fish in an oven-proof dish, drizzle with oil and bake for 20 minutes, until the skin is crisp and the flesh cooked through.

Meanwhile, cut the fennel into quarters. Heat some oil in a large frying pan, lightly colour the fennel for a few minutes, then place in the oven alongside the fish for 15 minutes.

While the fish and fennel finish cooking, cut the potatoes in half, fry in more oil until crisp, and drain.

Remove the fish from the oven and place on warmed plates. Divide the potatoes and fennel between the plates. Squeeze lemon into the fish juices, spoon over the fish and serve.

Mark Sargeant is chef/patron of Rocksalt and The Smokehouse, both in Folkestone. His book, My Kind Of Cooking, is published in October by Quercus at £20. To pre-order a copy for £16 (including UK mainland p&p), go toguardian.co.uk/bookshop

Fiona Beckett’s drink match Vermentino is particularly sympathetic to both herbs and seafood. Try the 2010 Domaine de Torraccia Blanc from Yapp Brothers (£12.75; 12% abv), a lovely pure, minerally organic white from Corsica.

guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle

Three unusal wines to suit three different budgets

Luis Pato Maria Gomes, Bairrada, Portugal 2010 (£8.99, highburyvintners.co.uk; corksof.com)

Luis Pato has for some time been one of Portugal’s best winemakers, a moustachioed maestro who has helped transform the reputation of the sleepy Bairrada region to the north of Coimbra. He specialises in indigenous Portuguese grape varieties such as the wonderfully named Maria Gomes, which here makes for a mellow but fresh white, which is full of apricots and orchard fruit.

Bellingham The Bernard Series Roussanne, Paarl, South Africa 2010 (£9.99, Sainsbury’s)

Here’s a wine that provides yet more proof that the grape varieties of the Rhône are well-suited to some of South Africa’s warmer regions. In this example it’s roussanne, most commonly encountered in white Rhône blends, that has had a successful relocation to the Cape, in a full-throated, powerful but beguilingly exotic white, with notes of fresh tropical fruit salad.

Pinot Noir Edoardo Miroglio, Thracian Valley, Bulgaria (£12.50, swig.co.uk)

In their 1980s heyday, Bulgarian wines, especially cabernet sauvignon, were a cheap supermarket staple, the kind of thing people served at dinner parties to undermine wine snobs’ commitment to all things French and expensive. The arrival of first Australian then Chilean wines rather stole the Bulgarians’ thunder, but this exceptional pinot noir – bright, earthy, complex, satin-textured and, yes, great value – points to a much brighter future for the country.

guardian.co.uk food-and-drink