I’m not sure how certain Luigi was as to where he was going. The poor little guy says he looked out of his aeroplane window and saw vast stretches of green with a smattering of castles reaching towards the sky.
Whilst certainly not being part of our national tourist board’s Visit Britain team, I am among those who are so very proud of our country. It’s a birthright for every Englishman to be proud of his heritage and there’s no doubt each of us would happily stand on our rooftops proclaiming that the county in which we live is the most beautiful in England.
And in this instance it’s difficult to dispute that my humble county – Sussex, has every right to proclaim this title as her own! Whether it’s our magnificent coast, beginning with the white cliffs of Dover to the stunning peaks of Beachy Head, to our magnificent castles; Herstmonceux, Pevensey, Bodiam, we have more to offer than any county in England; and all just a short distance from London!
On our rail journey down to the coast Luigi could hardly keep his face from the window. Our rolling hills dotted with plump little sheep create a warm and halcyon image of country living. ‘Long-Man’ waves from the hills to 
visitors as the train travels down the gradient. His origins remain unclear but archaeologists suggest that his figure dates from around the sixteenth century.
Indeed, the Sussex countryside offers some of the most spectacular and evocative landscapes in England - sweeping chalklands where earth meets sky, precipitous scarp slopes, rigged sandstone uplands and intimate clay vales. It is a protected landscape of diversity and contrast.
For those of us fortunate enough to live in villages, life moves at a much slower pace. Those of us who are blessed enough to have this life, fiercely protect it.
Whilst it may not be to everyone’s taste, my alarm clock is so old that it’s stuck on the same time. And rather than the piercing noise of a jolting man-made sound, it’s instead the gentle clip-clop-clip-clop of the horses each morning as they move beneath my bedroom window, heading from their paddock to the fields for the day. Both Mr Piddles and the horses keep to the same schedule and by virtue of the fact they outnumber me, they win as far as wake-up time! But I have no complaint.
A number of years ago, when with a bit of trepidation I joined All Recipes, I remember how I tried to explain where I lived. In my profile I had written:
“Whether it’s the Battle of Hastings in 1066 country, the Roman Saxon fortress of Pevensey Castle, or one of Britain’s most haunted locations - Michelham Priory, my two children and I are surrounded by castles, history, and a few errant ghosts. I’m also the Anglican chaplain to the countries of Moldova and Romania, where my mission supports victims of child-trafficking and children in crisis. 
I extend my most humble gratitude to all of you who have contributed in guiding me through my culinary disasters. Cooking is an escape for me and it’s a powerful way to say to my children “I Love You.” And your cooking advice is helping to dispel rumours that we are running a clandestine crematory in our home!”
Little has changed since then. My daily rounds have me travelling between those castles every day - along country lanes, visiting farms, small quaint cottages, and village pubs. Mr Piddle’s favourite place to visit, besides our cemetery, is Pevensey Castle. He says that here is the best place for anyone interested in 'Wii'. And it’s where he always goes to check his ‘Wee-Mail.’
You can visit Sussex by aeroplane, Steam Train, Canal Boat, horse, or if you must – by car. And although we’re the home of British Motoring, please don’t interpret that to mean we’re fast!
If you’re interested in history dating back to the Saxons, or you’re in need of a spiritual retreat, or you have an archaeological interest in the Neolithic period, this is where you will be happiest.
You can spend your day on our protected trails along original Roman roads, or trek atop cliffs overlooking the sea where Sir Winston Churchill stood, emotionally praying for all who left our shores to defend our and 
other’s freedoms, or if you’re a natural fan of ferreting and wish to explore our miles and miles of pirates tunnels, eighteenth century cross-channel tunnel digs, or search for buried hoards of Anglo-Saxon gold, you’ve come to the right place.
After all his worldly travels Luigi needed a wee rest and a bit of comfort food. We’ve taken him to our local pub to meet Charlie and Mollie. And at church yesterday we introduced him to a new friend named Alfredo Al Dente. They seem to have hit it off famously!
After church yesterday we invited Alfredo to join us for dinner. Sunday evening’s are always hopefully my ‘wind-down’ evening as I prepare for the new week. So I prepared a simple English dish – Toad in The Hole.
Many of us have deeply instilled traditions that came from our parents and grandparents; particularly when it comes to economising in the kitchen. During the war food was so scarce and precious that every scrap was saved. There was a natural evolving of the household menu that when one item was made for dinner, you could jolly-well anticipate what was coming for the next dinner.
In this era of over-abundance and ready-made meals, many have lost track of this culture.
If you’ve had a traditional Sunday roast and there was a small piece left-over, then one would most likely have placed the baking dish in the fridge and saved the meat and pan for the next day. Thinly sliced beef with a hint of horseradish would have been the sandwich du jour found in the children’s lunch box. And if there’s enough milk left on Sunday evening, there’d be a small dish of rice pudding with nutmeg as a dessert. (Two bottles of milk are on the doorstep by 0500 on Mondays), otherwise it’s a couple of digestives or Hob Nobs (another British tradition!) Hob Nobs are to the British what Oreos are to Americans.
Toad in the Hole is an egg batter-style bread, cooked in a roasting pan, or in muffin tins, with English sausages baked into the batter. It’s not only economical, it’s ripping delicious!
The name is derived from the imaginative image of the end of sausages peeking out of the batter. Children claimed it resembled a toad. Luigi had a particular interest in this dish as he owns an Italian cookbook dated 1891, named ‘L'Artus’ which contains a recipe entitled ‘Lesso rifatto all'inglese’ (Cooked again stewed meat). During the 1940’s there was a variation on the original by using pieces of Spam in place of sausages. (Remember, sausages were also rationed during the war). And in the 1747 English cookery book by Hannah Glasse, entitled The Art of Cookery, she presents a recipe entitled ‘Pigeons in a Hole,’ essentially the same thing. An 1861 recipe by Charles Elme Francatelli does not mention sausages at all. Instead he includes “6d. or 1s. (sixpence or one shilling) worth of bits and pieces of any kind of meat, which are
to be had cheapest at night when the day's sales trade is over." (essentially the butcher’s scraps at the end of the trading day).
However you slice it, without a doubt, this is a meal for the masses or certainly someone on a budget… like a poor vicar!
Father Bill’s ‘Toad in The Hole’
What you’ll need: To serve three – four people
Serve with onion gravy, mashed potatoes & your favourite veggie.
(and a bit of English mustard goes nicely as well!)
Yorkshire Pudding Batter
1 ½ cups milk (semi-skimmed is fine if you prefer)
4 large eggs
1 ¼ cups plain 00 grade or sifted flour
1 teaspoon salt
Pan drippings or Vegetable oil for your baking pan
Your favourite sausages or frankfurters
Pre-heat your oven to Gas Mark 4 or 350F
Ensure you have drippings in your pan sufficient to cover the base of the pan. Alternatively spread a cap full or two of your preferred oil.
In a mixing bowl whip the milk, eggs, and salt until huge bubbles appear.
Set aside to stand for 10-15 minutes.
While egg/milk mixture is standing, place your oiled baking pan in the oven to heat.
During this time place your sausages in a frying pan and brown, turning as required.
After the milk and egg batter has rested for the allotted time, whisk in the flour and let rest for a few more minutes or until required for dinner.
Here’s where some coordinated timing is required. You now have before you your browned sausages and your sitting batter.
Give the batter a couple of vigorous whips again, then remove your hot (even smoking) dish from the oven. Whilst whisking, pour your batter into the dish. It should begin bubbling immediately; otherwise your dish isn’t hot enough.
Quickly arrange your sausages into the batter and return the dish to the oven.
Bake for 20-30 minutes.
After about 20-25 minutes, have a peek in the oven. If it looks ready, it is. It will rise gloriously and the top will be a golden brown. Serve immediately as it will look far more appealing before the Yorkshire begins to naturally deflate.
Rantings: don’t panic! when baking, your dish will sink in the middle. It’s supposed to! Preparing the ‘perfect’ Yorkshire is a bit like making the perfect american biscuit. It takes time to develop your own style and a bit of natural coordination. It’s worth the practice, I promise! We love a natural brown beef & onion gravy which is easy-peasy to make. I once thought I’d be clever and decided to toss some onions I had sautéed with the sausages into the bubbling batter. My children did not care for this at all. Their reasoning was that it permeated the Yorkshire too much, thus making the onion flavour dominant. SO I’ve not fussed with this since. I have, on several occasions made the same dish, replacing my sausages with thick pieces of torn chicken, which I had prepared earlier in the day. This I served with a cream and sweet-corn I used a cranberry garnish. Years ago it became another standard at home.
Last note about the sausages. We never place the sausages in the dish first as they’re prone to sticking to the bottom and don’t offer the same ‘visual’ as when resting atop the batter. An american style sausage may react differently.
posted from Fr Bill's collection TH
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