Loving right now
Spring like days, with the warmth of the sun on your back
Stillness
Lying still, body and mind
Blood orange season starting
Long talks with distant friends
Comfortable chats with close by friends
The anticipation of a new album
Hearing Monkey Boy quietly read a story to Little Monkey. Slowly sounding out the tricky words
Being able to walk to a blue ocean,
and breathing her in
********
What are you loving right now?
Sourdough is not a quick process. It’s slow, likes to amble. Take its time. Focus it’s energy on the job on hand and then gradually release all of that sourdoughy goodness. Especially slow in winter. I don’t mind though. I’m in no hurry. The bread and I have no place special to be, and if I did…well the bread can wait. Sourdough is like that. Occasionally moody and a little flighty, but regularly reliable, and keen to just make peace with what ever is happening. I like that.
I had started with a 100% rye from Dan Lepard’s The Handmade Loaf. I took my time, didn’t hurry it along. It turned out ok, but I wasn’t thrilled. Mr Chocolate had mistakenly washed up my 2 tablespoons of crucial gelatinized mix to go on top of the loaf, and it all looked a little too floury. I had been nervous about putting the sticky mass dough in my banetton, so had floured a teatowel to line it instead. The loaf just came out looking like a floured teatowel though. Never mind. I’ll try a again.
Trial one
Second time around and I thought I would tweak the flavours a little. I wanted a more in-depth flavour, and also banished Mr Chocolate from my gelatinized mix at the crucial time. Flavour was better, and I didn’t bother with a banetton, just freeformed a rough round shape and pegged the sides of the baking paper to cradle and support it a little. It did rise, the top looked a little glossy, and several cracks developed while rising…. but it wasn’t quite there yet. What was missing?
Third time around, and the weather was cold. It certainly was going to take longer than the 5 hours recommended to let it rise. Once baked, I left it for 48 hours wrapped in baking paper before I cut into it. This really did seem to help in the development of the flavour, but….
Fourth go. It tastes good.
I’m done.
Trialing and tweaking I’ve enjoyed doing, but I still find it a bit of a pain to make on account of it being so sticky. The taste is there though. It was really cold the day I made this one and it certainly didn’t double in size. It was a loooong cool prove, probably 12 hours on the bench all up plus 12 hours in the fridge. I’m still sticking with the hand shaping and laying on bakers paper rather than a banetton, I didn’t bother checking the temperature of the boiling water asper Dan Lepard’s instructions, (things aren’t that slow round here.) Just whisked when it’s boiled. I also think wrapping it afterwards is very crucial. The taste is a light sour, really tight crumb and I think the linseed and dark malt flour I added give a bit more depth, to which I like.
It’s filling, it’s good for you, The Monkeys won’t have a bar of it, and that suits me just fine. I can eat my way through it… slowly.
too much
keeper of the tomatoes
tea for one
little gardener
hot stepping with the marmalade
onion farmer
*****
Oodles of inspiration from here
Winding, glueing, primping, sewing
Tummy’s and hair from these guys
Making these little people was ridiculously fun
Brown slop. Thats what I hear you say. Brown slop in a pretty bowl….Actually you are right, it is.
But, it’s good brown slop.
Had a light dinner and need a little something else to ease you into the evening?
One spiced warm hug coming up. That’s what this dish is, or that’s what it feels like when you eat it. Warm, nourishing, you can feel those spiced milky arms envelope you. Feeding your inner soul with its goodness of spices and hint of lemon. Giving you the quiet sugar kick that you were after with out crushing all your taste buds in one mighty swoop. Some nights don’t suit chocolate, some nights are a simple curl up on the couch with a spiced warm hug.
Some people might say brown sloppy rice pudding, I say spiced warm hug please.
2 cups milk
150mls cream
1/3 cup muscavdo or molasses sugar (or any other dark unrefined sugar)
6 green cardamom pods
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp dried ginger
1/3 cup any short grain rice
1/4 cup sultanas
1 large strip of lemon rind
Bring milk, cream, spices to a simmer, turn it down a little lower, so it doesn’t bubble over. Now add the rest of the ingredients and stir continuously on a gentle simmer for 15 minutes. Then put the lid on the pot, turn off the hot plate and leave it for 20 minutes. Don’t peek, it’s still doing its thing.
Eat on the couch, with a blanket on your lap, and a book by your side.
It’s been awhile since I did a Frugal Friday post. Too long.
It’s winter here, and this week has been wet, rainy, soggy and grey. Perfect weather for soup.
My dad had given me a pumpkin from his garden, and the leeks were looking plump and juicey. Soup it was.
A good couple of slurps of olive oil in a large pot
finely chopped leek popped in
cooked until it wilts a little
then drop in your pumpkin pieces
add some water/stock and stick the lid on until soft
whiz it up with a hand mixer
Super basic soup that can be eaten as is or added to. I like adding natural yogurt and tomato chutney on top. Or some thai curry paste if you want a kick in the pants. The best soup is made with great vegetables. If the main ingredient is a tasteless old pumpkin…well the soup is going to taste, tasteless.
1 1/2 cups (225g) plain flour
1/2 cup (25g) unprocessed bran
1/4 cup (60mls) hot water
3/4 tsp salt
60mls water
80mls olive oil
grated parmesan
black pepper
Add hot water to bran, give it a minute or so to soak in and then in a mixer with a dough hook add all the ingredients and mix until comes together. Parmesan and black pepper put in amounts to your taste (or any other flavours). Knead the mixture for about 10 minutes until you have a stiff dough and then leave covered for about 45 minutes. Roll out to a couple of mm’s and cut what ever shapes you want. Place on a tray and grate extra parmesan over the top. Bake at 180C until light golden and crispy through. Shake them around a bit when you get them out of the oven to pick up any extra parmesan while they are still hot.
I didn’t feel like sugar and I didn’t feel like flour… but I did feel like dessert. The rhubarb was fast becoming friends with the flacid celery in the fridge and I still had some squirrelled away blueberries in the freezer. A crumbley thing it was. Lots of similar variations of this had been popping up around the blogosphere. It’s funny how a food dish can sneak it’s way in, and suddenly everyone is happily eating a variation of the same thing.
So did rhubarb without sugar work?
It probably didn’t work as well as it could have. However, the honey was a decent trade off and completely passable if you were going easy on the sugar and didn’t want any gluten though. The Monkeys had two serves of this, so it certainly passed their palate test. Mr Chocolate got through it and declared yes it was good… but the last one was better, (with sugar and flour.)
(gluten/ sugar free)
Bunch of chopped rhubarb and a punnet of frozen blueberries
in the microwave for 3 minutes
while that’s cooking
blitz 1 cup of toasted almonds/hazelnuts/linseed in food processor (chunks not crumbs)
add 1 tsp vanilla and 1 tsp cinnamon
then 3 tablespoons honey
mix it round and pop on the top of the fruit
into the oven at 180C until golden
Kingcup Cottage was the first book I ever had. I still love it, and now get to read it to my boys. My mum lovingly kept a lot of our childhood books, so I get to relive all the pages again though reading with The Monkeys.
And read we do. We always read a lot to, although their book case is getting mighty squishy.
It hadn’t occurred to me until recently just how much food has always played a part in my life. Even going back to my childhood books, it’s the food pages that held my attention. The end party picture of Kingcup Cottage with the array of goodies spread out, and all the woodland animals tucking in. It’s the sort of picture that I would have spent a long time absorbing every detail of it all and scrutinizing each corner of the page.
I’ve been subconsciously drawn to, so many pages in favourite early children’s books. It’s actually quite funny to look back as an adult and realise how I have come to these attractions or thoughts I guess, and how it has effected my way of thinking.
Midnight feasts were always very idyllic sounding thanks to Enid Blyton. As I got a little older, those idyllic notions were still implanted in my head from younger years of reading. It was the thing to do on early teen sleep over nights. Somehow though, it never felt the same as reading those books. Stories of school kids getting up to high jinks and eating a selection of goodies in the dark of the night. Goodies, that I would never normally eat but always sounded delicious reading through Enid Blyton’s pages. When it came to my midnight feasts though, we either annoyingly slept through, or ate a handful of smarties and a swig of soft drink as we paused ‘The Breakfast Club” or “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” and that was that. No glass bottles of ginger beer and tongue sandwiches…(although I’m not really sure I would have gone for the sangas anyway.)
It wasn’t the same.
Back to early childhood books and ‘Come over to my House’- Theo LeSeig (pen name of Theodore Geisel aka Dr Seuss), was also another early favourite. It’s worn, frayed on the spine and still has oodles of love to give anyone that is drawn in by its pages. Each of those pages take the reader to a different country. I know that this book contributed to me wanting to know more about different cultures and countries from its colourful pictures. I aspired to eating spaghetti in Venice with the watery canals beneath my balcony and long gondolas silently polling by because of this page. I wanted to see the Northern Lights glow over a snowy landscape, and lie on a hammock on a tropical island feeling the balmy breeze between my toes. I’m still waiting to see the Northern Lights, but I have eaten spaghetti in Venice, and have felt that balmy breeze.
I wonder what impact The Monkey’s books will have on them and whether they will be drawn to the foodie pages or something else completely?
What ever those books do, I hope they help my boys to dream…
Did loved childhood books have a strong impact on you?
I’m not allowed to make these very often, as restaint happily sits outside the front door and away from ear shot. Just the right size to pop into your mouth in one sugary sweep. Gone like a flash, as the hand reaches for another… ahem, and another.
See. Troublesome little tarts they are. Trouble with a hazelnutty bottom, a sticky caramel middle and just enough chocolate drizzled on for some to get stuck on your top lip.
You’ve been warned.
Pastry
1/3 cup toasted hazelnuts
1 cup plain flour (150g)
100g chilled cubed butter
All into a food processor until resembles bread crumbs. Divide mixture and press into greased mini muffin tray (I also cut strips of baking paper, lining one hole with a strip- easy to pop them out then.) Bake at 180C until a light golden. Press mixture down with a teaspoon to compress it while it’s still hot.
Caramel
In a pot, add one can of condensed milk (395g), 30g butter and 2 tablespoons of golden syrup over a low heat. Stirring until butter melts, then bring it up to a simmer, and keep stirring until mixture thickens and darkens a little. Divide the caramel over the pastry tarts, cool for 5 minutes and then over to a wire rack.
Chocolate
Melt the chocolate really slowly and then drizzle it over the tarts. If you melt it slowly the chocolate should stay ‘in temper’, and will avoid any streakiness, (if you don’t mind a bit of streaking now and then, just go for it.)
Hippy bread. That’s what my mum would probably say if I told her what the loaf of bread sitting beside me was called.
Maybe it should be called superfood bread? Both chia and quinoa seem to be happily sitting under the superfood umbrella at the moment. Basking their superfood bodies in the healthy food spotlight. Rightly so, as this loaf certainly feels good and healthy on eating. I’d picked up some locally grown quinoa in Tasmania and already had some chia lounging in the back of the fridge. I was ready to jump back into the sourdough making after being away and these two super heroes had their names written down for my upcoming loaf.
After we had got back from Tasmania, checking the sourdough starter in the fridge was one of the first things I did. Actually I checked both of them, as I had put two in different bowls in different positions to try to make sure something was still happy when we got back.
Why so pedantic?
It all started a few weeks back. There I was on an everyday Monday, with a head full of things that left very little room for much else. I needed to make bread and while in my whole heartedly distracted state, I used all my starter. Yes. Allll my starter. My starter that I had been gently nurturing for over a year, providing my family with abundance of loaves of bread, and I had just used it all.
A sharp intake of breath, a slight sweating of the brow, and a quickened heart beat. Oh, oh, oh….
It’s ok! I’ve got a frozen bit for back up. I had recently used another frozen portion to see how the whole bringing it back process actually worked. I’d also written a draft post on it. It was going to be fine. It was going to be fine…
But it wasn’t. It wasn’t fine. I gave that little frozen starter so much love it clearly didn’t know what to do with itself. An encouraging one teeny tiny bubble a day kept my hope alive. Come on little thing, you can do it, I softly whispered.
It turned grey. I changed bowls. I added more water. I added more flour. I added honey. I added rye… It smelt funny.
I suspected death was around the corner and in a last attempt before quietly putting her in the bin, I turned it to three different bowls with three different ways of encouraging the starter to grow to her old bubbly self. One bowl died immediately, and two decided to give themselves one more go. Two bubbles…three bubbles, four bubbles. Frog spawn! Oh the joy! Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Yes, I could have got some starter back from friends who have now embraced the sourdough pilgrimage. I could have made another, and I could have just let it rest awhile and played with commercial yeasted bread. I could have, but I didn’t want to. I wasn’t the only one who had despaired at the thought of no sourdough. Mr Chocolate had looked on with horror when I had explained what had happened on that first distracted day. Horror again at the thought of his lunch going to have to come from shop bread…
So that’s what happened. But now, the old girls back. She was clearly itching to get cracking with some loaves of bread this time around, as it didn’t take long for those reassuring bubbles to come back at all, (thank goodness.)
2 tbls chia
150g quinoa
300mls water
—————
300g starter
450g strong bakers flour
375mls water
300g cooked quinoa and chia (I had a bit left over)
1 1/2 tsp salt
In a pot add the quinoa, chia and water. Cook for about 10 minutes or so. When the water is all absorbed and grains have softened, cool a little. Add starter, flour and water. Mix together and then I left it for about half an hour. Add the cooled quinoa and chia, mix well (I used a dough hook) then add the salt. A 30 second knead/fold on lightly floured surface and back in the bowl for an hour or so. Another 30 second knead/fold and then back in bowl, covered and into the fridge for a cold sleep for about 12-ish hours. Back out, getting a tight knead together, than into the banetton for about 4 hours.
Out on to tray, slash, steam, and bake at 240 for about 40 minutes.
*This post submitted to the lovely yeastspotting
entrance
I don’t think I had any expectations of MONA (Museum of Old and New Art- Hobart). I had heard it was good. Had also been told of a couple of particular pieces on display, but other than that I didn’t really know what to expect, besides knowing that I did want to go there.
Driving in, vineyards line the drive way up. Guinea fowl, chooks and ducks roam the carpark. I think anywhere that has that as a welcome, along with striking architecture and a tennis court in front of the subtle entrance, immediately has my attention and I wanted in.
Little Monkey had timed a nap in his pram perfectly and the iphone used for orientating yourself with the artworks suited the tech savvy Monkey Boy. The gadget distracted him enough away from any adults only pieces and it was quicker to ask him to find the information I needed, than from Mr Chocolate.
This place is awesome. No other word for it. If you go to Hobart, make sure you head over for a couple of hours. It ooozes with funk, intrigue, thought and a bucket load of awesomeness….and it’s free. I loved our afternoon here.
falling water drops forming words
30 people singing Madonna songs in unison...brilliant!
Now food in Tasmania is a big factor. If you like being out doors, being active and like your tucker a whole lot- it really is heaven. This time around we weren’t dining out in fancy places that had two types of wine glasses set up. Not all. If they had kid sized milkshakes excellent. Drawing paper and colourful pens…even better. Fast and tasty, yes please.
A few of the stand outs for me were, (and you don’t have to have kiddo’s to enjoy them).
The Red Velvet Lounge, Cygnet. This place is really appealing as soon as you walk in. My eyes moving straight to the stacked (still warm) sourdoughs and brimming cake counter, (why fight it?) Steve the owner also blogs from The view from my Porch. This is where I got to have lunch with the lovely Kate from Vegetable Vagabond.
Global Kitchen, Moonah. Three cooks from India, South Korea and Ethiopia, all offering different dishes. A tasting plate that left me gasping for air and The Monkeys skipping out with a chocolate chip biscuit gripped in their little monkey hands.
Machine Laundry Cafe, Hobart. This place was recommended to us 7 years ago. We dutifully seek it out and the Fat Boy Roti was remembered for ever more by Mr Chocolate. Back again, and it was a given that we would see if it was all still there. It was, and definitely worth the wait to get in. Part laundry, part cafe. It’s got retro seating, a line up of people outside and a menu that doesn’t disappoint. It was certainly worth the seven year wait to come back.
bacon and parmesan pancakes
he got really slow at the end of that one...
So, with my muddy shoes stacked up, my scarf draped over the back of the chair. I lean back contentedly, give my belly a happy pat and say very enthusiastically…that, was a lovely holiday.
See you again Tasmania.
* Apologies to any subscribers who got the delightfully titled 4252 post- sometimes my brain pauses…pressing publish without a title was one of those moments.
Lured by her siren song, Tasmania has been calling for a long time now. A whispered song at first. Easy to be ignored, turned away for another day, another time. Happy memories of a trip from years before keep the song going. Time moves on and the songs tempo changes. A quickened beat, thoughts of, I wonder…
A fleeting weekend, changes the beat of the song once more. She calls more insistently now. A winter week away beckons…
A week of real winter weather
History
Long quiet nights of reading
Soft snow falling
Apples
Meeting the fabulous people behind the fabulous blogs
And more wonderful food than is rightfully so.
Going back to the Hobart Farmers Markets with the family was like stepping into a familiar pair of comfortable worn shoes. Some of the stalls were different, but some were the same. I was happy to wait while people lined up to make their local food purchases. Gave me a chance to soak it all in. Not as much soaking as I would have liked this time though. The Monkeys were pulling my legs and tweaking at my fingers… as there was cupcakes on the line.
C & C Cupcake Factory make seasonal cupcakes sourcing sustainable and local products. Rhubarb from the garden, quinoa milled from not far away and cupcakes that left us all wishing we weren’t leaving before they were next going to be selling at the markets. I had to reign in the excited puppy within while talking with the lovely Michelle. She had swapped Sydney streets for a slower Tasmanian life years before and I would have happily quizzed her until closing time. I didn’t though, and went and filled my arms with more goodies for meals over the next few days.
I hadn’t got to try any of Rare Food’s piggy treats last time, but this time The Monkeys had put in orders for bacon and what sort of mama would I be if I denied them? Heritage breed, locally bred, locally made products, and I get to talk with the producer. Ticks all the boxes that I’m after. Matthew Evans was also selling his new book just out, which I had heard whispers of.
I wasn’t going to buy it I really wasn’t. I didn’t need a new recipe book, and I had been really happy with the Real Food Companion. But, I did buy it… how could I not?
Winter on the Farm is the kind of book that makes you want to curl up in front of a fire, hot tea by your side, biscuit crumbs on your chest and slowly read your way through. Book marking every second page for further reference. These are the kind of recipes that I like. Recipes that can be easily tweaked, with ingredients that you might have on hand… and the photography is truly, beautiful.
* More Tassie bits to come…
there is a call from the wild
bags packed
excited little giggles
sourdough starter’s time to sleep
great food beckons
deep breath in
deep breath out
unplugged…
cityhippyfarmgirl 