Asparagus

Asparagus is a luxury, and this May it's even more a luxury than usual; the harvest has been poor, because of the incessant rain, so prices have shot up. But there are still ways to get your asparagus addiction fed at economy prices.

First of all, look out for roadside vendors if you live in an asparagus growing area. (I do, I'm in Norfolk.) Often these guys have extremely good prices, as they have low costs (selling from a van) - and about half of them are producers, so there's no middleman to pay.

Secondly, look out for asparagus being sold towards the end of the day. It doesn't keep well, particularly the very slender spears that form most of this year's harvest, so you may get a good deal. The other day I was offered five bunches at £1 each instead of £2.50, just to get them out of the shop.

Third, ignore the seasons and look out for jars of white asparagus in pound shops or Lidl. It keeps forever, or pretty nearly, and if you can get a jar for £1, you'll be able to cook pasta, quiches, or omelettes using it.

Having got your asparagus home, don't waste it by boiling it. There's a much better way to cook it. Roast it instead. Put it on a baking sheet, drizzled with a little olive oil, and bake it for about fifteen minutes at 190c. You don't lose half the goodness in the cooking water, and it won't go too soft. Besides, it will keep, so you can do two lots like this, and then save some for scattering on top of pasta or pizza, or for asparagus-on-toast with a little parmesan bubbled on top.

Another way to cook asparagus is in a gratin. This time you will need to put it in boiling water for just a few minutes, then drain it, put it in an oven dish, pour a little cream over, and add breadcrumbs and cheese on top with just a little butter mixed in. Grill it for another four or five minutes and it's ready.

Making your own flavoured oils

Flavoured oils are a great way delicatessens have of parting you from your money.

They look marvellous. I have a friend who has seven or eight bottles on her kitchen shelf; with chili, garlic, different herbs, they are all slightly different colours, reflecting the light like little jewels. And of course they look so much nicer than that yellow or clear plastic bottle with sunflower oil in it.

Oh yes, sunflower oil. Look, you're about to make a really strong chili oil. Why bother with having a decent extra virgin olive oil as the base? That's a waste of money.

Get some fresh red chilis. Chop them up good and small and throw them into a saucepan with sunflower oil (or whatever other oil you choose). Include the seeds if you want it really hot. Let them infuse.

Now the important part. If you just want to use the oil this week, you can cold-infuse. If you want to keep it, though, you need to bring the mixture up to just below the boil (up to 180c) - otherwise you run the risk of botulism. So hubble bubble boil and bubble, and then when it's ready, bottle the oil.

Don't despair if the oil doesn't look particularly red. The proof is in the taste, which should be satisfyingly warm.

Garlic oil can be made in the same way, and again, needs to be heated before pouring into the bottle or jar.

I've heard storage lives ranging from two weeks to two months. Certainly, shop bought oils have an advantage here.

But with the money I save on making my own garlic and chili oil, I can buy some specialised oils - walnut oil, pumpkin seed oil, and sesame oil, all of which have their particular uses and which I can't make at home.

Rescuing old furniture

Amazing. I've been looking for a decent couple of chairs for ages, and at the Vide-greniers in Nogent le Roi I found them - for one euro each.

They're balloon back chairs - one a 'plain vanilla' balloon back and the other with three little cusps on the back, both with cabriole front legs, and both with a little woodworm to eradicate. One of them has a cane seat, a bit distressed but still complete; the other one used to have a cane seat. And they are both covered in hideous dark brown varnish.

So work begins with sanding. I'm using 80 grit to start on the worst (thickest) varnish, because I need to remove the thick layers of varnish, and then a layer of dark stained wood, before I get to the natural colour of the wood. On the other chair, the varnish isn't so thick, and there's no stain, so I start with 180 grit instead.

One of the chairs is robust. The other is wobbly, so I take it to pieces before I start sanding. It's fairly simple; find the joint you want to loosen, position it so you are knocking the mortise away from the tenon, ensure there are no little nails or wedges keeping the joint together, then - using a small piece of waste wood to protect the chair - knock it sharply with a hammer or mallet till it pops out. The side stretchers, which keep the legs together, are the first to go; once they're gone, there should be enough play to take the seat out - it slides forwards.

It takes two days to strip both chairs down to an acceptable finish. First doing an overall job, then raising the grain by sponging the chair with water and leaving it to dry, and then going back to see where there are patches of discoloration, dents and dings and scratches that I want to remove.

I'm sanding by hand. You could use a powered sander, but I'm loath to do so - I might lose the fine mouldings, or put flats into the wood. These chairs are all curves - it would be a disaster if I sanded any of the curviness away. (And power sanders usually come with paper that is much too coarse. I use them for stripping tabletops and shelves, which are meant to be flat, but even then I ensure I don't use too low a grade of paper.)

There's something rather Zen about hand sanding the swooping curves of a cabriole leg in the sun, sitting outside, hearing the wind and the blackbirds and the combine harvester two fields away. (Must remember to put sun cream on the back of my neck next time.)

Then on to higher grades of paper - 240, 360. The wood starts feeling smooth, like skin; you want to caress it. I look for infinitesimal scratches to see if I've sanded them all away - they're the scratches from the first sanding. The figure starts to come out in the wood - the grain was already visible, but now I can see the little flecks and iridescence of figure that cuts across the grain.

Now time for my best friend; woodworm exterminator. Cuprinol in the UK, Xylophène in France. It could be that there are no living woodworm in the chairs, but I'm not going to wait long enough to find out. Painted on, and squirted into the holes with a small syringe. Should exterminate the lot. (Because I don't want to exterminate myself too, I'm doing it outside, and wearing a mask.)

Then the final stage; finishing. Some people like a waxed finish, but I use Rustin's Danish oil or Liberon finishing oil. I'll be rubbing it on with a rag, and equally importantly, rubbing off a couple of minutes later to ensure I don't get a nasty shiny plastic-effect surface. Then sand down, another coat, and a third coat as well, and I've got a superb finish, much lighter than the original varnish.

This all takes time, but the reward for your time is the lustre of natural wood, and a piece of furniture that looks splendid. And the level of skill required is low - the one thing you really need to learn is to be perfectionist, never to go on to the next grade of paper before you're really sure you have got as far as you can go with the last one.

Now I just have to upholster the seat for the one that's missing its cane. Or possibly, re-cane it... but that's another story.

Decorating on a budget

I've just had a loft extension put in. It's a lovely space, full of light, but now it's there, I have to decorate. Which means spending money.

None the less, I found out I could spend less by being clever.

• Start off, whatever colour you want, with white paint. It's cheap. And laying two coats of white under another colour will make it nice and bright when you add it on top.
• Dilute your first coat nearly 50-50 paint and water. It makes the paint go further, and makes it go on easier.
  
• It doesn't all have to be the same colour. I'm probably going to leave most of the walls white and just paint one, and the ceiling, in warm golden yellow. That cuts down on the cost.
  
• Use a roller. Much easier to apply the paint smoothly.
  
• Wear your t shirt and shorts INSIDE OUT. Then, paint only goes on the inside, and you have saved the shirt for wearing right-way-out when you want to.
• If you're using brushes, this is the one place it is worth spending money for good ones - cheap brushes have bristles which fall out and spoil the finish.
  

Old knitwear - new tricks

A piece in the Guardian suggests making an old jumper into legwarmers.

There are other tricks you can try, too. I successfully cut up a large old sweater and converted the 'body' part into a knitted skirt - really quite simple with one big piece of elastic used for the waist.

If the arms have gone (quite often happens at the elbows), you have a tank top / gilet if you can carefully detach them.

Sweater 'bodies' also convert easily to knitted bags. Not really robust enough to use for carting your shopping around, but very useful for organising stuff at home. I have one for all my shoe brushes, polish, etc, and another that holds teatowels and dishwipes. (You could also make cushion covers.)

A rather specialised use for the arms, and also for old socks, is not going to be useful to many people. But if you play bagpipes, flute, whistle, or bassoon, a knitted instrument cover can be useful. At least you know your instrument is going to be nice and warm! I have a lovely set of bamboo flutes by Patrick Olwell and each of them now has a different knitted bag made out of an old jumper arm.

With hand knits (less so with machine knits) you can also unravel the garment and reuse the wool in your own knitting. However, it will be much more unruly than 'new' wool, often curling up in funny ways. Still, if you enjoy knitting, why not extend your stash of yarn rather than simply throw a garment away?

"Sides to middle"

Sheets tend to get very thin in the centre, where you've been lying on them. Most people throw their sheets away - or send them to the charity shop - once this happens.

But if you're smart you can give them another lease of life. It's very simple, though it does need a sewing machine (unless you have very good, and fast, hand stitching).

Simply cut the sheet all the way down the middle.

Now reverse each half, so that what was the outside hem is running down the middle, and the threadbare bits are down the outside. Stitch the seam together and voila! An almost good as new sheet!

(It helps if you unpick the outside hems first, so you don't end up with a rigid seam down the middle.)

This works with blankets too.

Other uses of holey or threadbare sheets - if they're good quality cotton:

• If you're canny, you can make pillow cases out of the bits that aren't holey.
• Reuse parts for tea towels or napkins.
• Use for lining baskets or bags.
  

Don't get silly

I like to keep things frugal. But I don't like to be silly.

For instance; 'Don't use conditioner on your hair, use mayonnaise.'

Apart from the fact that I don't want to go around all day stinking like a badly made burger, I don't think it works.

And actually mayonnaise is not noticeably cheaper than the supermarket own-brand conditioner, unless you're buying a catering size tub.

Frugality and abundance is not about 101 things to do with a dead teabag. It's about having some fun while saving your money. It's about the low hanging fruit - the easy savings. The savings that don't mess your life up.

So don't be silly, be smart.