Long weekends,
call for longer sleeps,
longer conversations,
longer socks,
long sips of hot chai
and lemon cake.
Lemon and Olive Oil Cake
From here on in, all long weekends held in June will be marked by the baking of lemon cakes. (Best eaten in colourful socks, sipping chai and surrounded by excitable conversation.)
My mum gave me this book last Christmas, The Nordic Cookbook. It was one of those presents where you unwrap it and have a small excited titter just on running your fingers over the front cover. (Much like the time when she gave me a Figgio plate without knowing what it is was, just knowing that I would like it.)
On reading the book, I wasn’t disappointed. Skimming the pages, and I feel like I’m sitting in some snug Nordic kitchen drinking tea…
…there’s a soft snow gently coming down outside, the kids are calmly playing a board game, while we all wear (similar in pattern) knitted reindeer sweaters. With a tidy plateful of almond bars on the kitchen counter I reach for one to deftly dunk into my steaming mug of tea, I catch a cheeky smile from my loving partner across the subtly decorated effortless styled room…
Ahh, wait. Hang on a sec, seems I got carried away. That last part must have been an IKEA catalogue I’d seen.
Back to the chaos of reality.
The kids are tearing around laser blammering each other, the dog is sinking her puppy teeth into a couch leg once more. Everything is completely mismatched, the autumn weather is unseasonably warm for this time of year (thank you climate change), partner has disappeared under several piles of washing needing somehow to be dried before tomorrow, and tea may yet have to be rewarmed (again) due to distractions and time constraints of drinking it hot within a 15 minute advisable time frame. (Tepid at best on a regular basis.)
Thankfully I’ve been playing with my own Nordic Almond Rusk recipe, and no one has managed to break the Figgio (as yet.)
Nordic Almond Bars
150g softened butter
150g sugar
150g almond meal
2 tablespoons of honey
2 eggs
300g (2 cups) plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp almond aroma * (if you love it, omit if you don’t)
Mix all ingredients together in a large bowl. Then give a quick knead on a lightly floured surface.
Divide mixture into three even fat log shaped rolls, lay on a lined baking tray and bake at 200C for approximately 25 minutes. Take logs out, and allow them to cool (this part is important) for about 20 minutes. Lower the oven temperature to 180C, then carefully slice on the diagonal with a serrated bread knife, and lay them back on the tray.
Continue to bake for a further 15-20 minutes or until just a light golden. Swapping sides mid way through.
Eating these will guarantee crumbs on any nordic themed reindeer sweaters.
Today is International Permaculture Day and I thought I would have a little look at the basis of what permaculture actually is, and what it means, in an every day living kind of way?
Whether you live in a tiny busy city apartment or 1000 hectare farm out the back of….well, somewhere well out the back. Permaculture is something that can be easily infused into every day living.
In nutshell, it’s a way of living that designs and builds a system that incorporates 3 ethics- Earth Care, People Care and Fair Share.
Connected productive living within ourselves, our families and our communities…without the destructive environmental cost. Sounds pretty good right?
Break the word down and you’ve got PERMANENT AGRICULTURE, that doesn’t mean you have a permanent collection of farm hands and cattle roaming over your fields. That means you’ve got a system in play that means you’re accountable for your own living, (well as much as possible anyway. )
Still with me? Right so what does this all mean to me and for our family of five living in a regular every day kinda urban city setting?
First up, let’s look at the 12 principles that permaculture is based on. I’ve found some will be used more than others depending on our context at the time and on the day. Basically this is daily living stuff though.
As you can see, this isn’t just out in the garden. This is life living skills, numbered beautifully from 1 to 12.
Exploring all the options and making sure everything is reasonably adaptable. What works for me now, might well, need to work differently in the future. Things are constantly changing and tweaking things are necessary dependent on what’s going on around us at the time.
Also, what’s your context? What works for me, may not work for the next person.
A tiny example which up until lately, I hadn’t considered a whole lot was the environmental impact of having a dog or a pet in general. Sure I knew the pet food industry was just as crap as our own mainstream food in many ways but until I was actually standing there in the pet food aisles, I didn’t realise just how ridiculous things really were. Sugar, salt, colourings and food miles for our beloved fur beast? You betcha.
Dog food I manoeuvred my way through and poo is now being collected in cornstarch bags (if out) and deposited into a worm tower in an untouched corner of the yard if at home. (#6 Produce no waste.)
Worm towers are also favoured within our wicking beds (with an addition of compost and food scraps rather than dog poo.)
While we are still relatively new to our current living environment, permaculture is a system of living that in some shape or form I have been happily living in different contexts from the very beginning.
Some things have changed, some things will quietly remain very similar and some, will simply grow and expand like a 10 year olds legs over summer holidays, (or something like that.) It’s exciting stuff and most of the time it feels really positive to be moving forward like this, (and when it doesn’t, there’s always a wonderful clean slate called tomorrow.)
Here’s five minutes with David Holgrem (co-originator of the permaculture concept) on how we can change the world with permaculture thinking…what a lovely man 🙂
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If you’re new to permaculture and not sure where to dive in, here’s a few places to kickstart a whole new way of thinking, living and celebrating life in general.
International Permaculture Day
Permaculture Principles– I adore their yearly calendar. The pictures are inspirational, moon planting incredibly helpful and the little squares are big enough to scribble all your daily ‘stuff’.
Milkwood– whether it’s a hands on course or the goodness of online info.
Pip Magazine– Permaculture in a wonderful magazine format.
It’s a bit old school I know. It also depends on what corner of the globe you sit in, as to what your blanket might be made of.
Bacon, pastry or bread? Anyway you choose, it’s a thing and the thing is to enclose that little sausage (or pig) in a blanket of your choosing.
Now why would you got to the trouble? Because it’s too easy not to. It makes for a slightly different dinner on the run, kid friendly meal, or maybe a picnic filler. Don’t be put off if you are vegetarian, just fill it with something else!
Pre cook some sausages…use your favourite locally produced organic ones, and allow them to cool before placing the dough around them.
Bread, I’ve used a faster acting yeasted bread recipe for this, as I wasn’t particularly keen on waiting for sourdough to proof while sitting out on the bench with cooked meat…(if you know what I mean.)
Bread Recipe
2 tsps dried yeast
675g flour
400mls tepid water
60mls olive oil
2 tsps salt
In a large mixing bowl add yeast, flour and water.
Mix it together until you get a shaggy kind of dough. Leave it for about 20 minutes, and then add your salt and olive oil.
Work the dough until it comes together as a smooth dough (or use a mixer with dough hook) You want it feeling quite elastic.
Pop it back in the bowl, cover and allow to prove until approximately doubled in size.
Out on to a lightly floured bench top, divide your dough up and roll into little snakes to wind around the sausages. Wind them and then lay them on a lined baking tray, allow to prove for a little while (use your awesome common sense here, it’s meat, you don’t want it to be proving for a long time.)
Bake at 230C with steam for approximately 20 minutes or until the dough is golden.
Excellent for picnics, quick dinners and will always please the kiddos. Beats a hotdog any day!
It was the array of vegetables quietly lying in their own individual plastic that finally broke it for me. I felt deflated, defeated and pretty bloody miserable to be honest.
Moving cities was always going to have its pockets of turbulence, I knew that. It’s a transition period where you have to nut out what’s what, who’s who, where’s where and build up from that right?.
I knew that, it all takes a little time.
So why was I feeling like I was carrying round a basket full of sad, looking down at my plastic encased vegetable dinner options?
Because I forgot. I did have options.
While I had been trying really hard to keep things as uncomplicated as possible, while I nutted out a seemingly endless supply of other issues that needed attending, packed a household, unpacked a household, grappled with a grumpy oven, the weather defied all odds, new garden beds were created and I mostly single parented the summer school holidays. For those reasons, I resorted to supermarket vegetables, some bought bread, and more plastic encased food than I cared to think about.
Except I did care, and combined with the transition of moving, it made for a pretty sad face round here.
Shopping had turned into being surrounded by an endless supply of uninspiring temperature controlled chain stores, empty conversations, enough plastic to make you shudder and all filled with people who I seemingly had little in common with.
It all felt so false. The mass-produced shopping, the plastic on plastic, the convenience of it all and the questionable happiness that people seemed to get from living like this.
Is that how it really is? Was this really my chosen road, the inevitable living that was bound to happen at some point, just because we moved?
Staring at those vegetables again, and something gently clicked back into place.
Hell no. This isn’t me, this isn’t us. I Don’t. Want. This.
Readjustment, realignment, and a good rethink.
And so slowly I’m catching up. The local transport system was nutted out, travels further afield were taken. Local organic vegetables got delivered to the door which gave me some breathing room when I couldn’t get to the farmers markets, independent health food stores were located, the toilet paper came in bulk, the huge shopping centres were bypassed and I found the beginnings of a list of a few mismatched seated cafe’s that served coffee in cups the size of my head, (and from which I danced in caffeine fuelled happiness.)
While I didn’t want the plastic vegetables, and the convenience of everything being at my door step, I do acknowledge that I needed it for that transition period, (and not being sainted) may dip back into it in small amounts over the coming few months as needed.
While we are all still very much finding our feet and it really will take a while to set down new roots, I feel a hell of a lot more grounded knowing that there has been a bunch of bread just baked, there’s kombucha on the bench top, I’ve found places that I can buy basics in bulk, joined the local library, traded cucumbers for black soldier fly larvae over the back fence, made jam, made kasundi, roasted pumpkin’s and with a contented exhale, have once again sourced our families every day vegetables bought without a single, sheet, of plastic.
For me, it feels a whole lot better to be once again, keeping it real.
Four jars were sitting on the kitchen bench top, still piping hot and whispering to me of dishes that they could accompany.
Eggs on sourdough was a given.
Jazzed up fried rice a sure thing.
Hoppers seemed sensible,
and there might even be a little bit of roast chicken action.
Eggplant Kasundi was like that, a versatile little pickle that just brought its own little party to the dinner table. I had only discovered it last year, and celebrated the fact by slapping that stuff on everything that was mouth destined.
An easy, seasonal eggplant pickle that can be teamed up with pretty much anything.
How about you, have you any tiny food obsessions at the moment? Are you pickling anything from the season? What’s your favourite go to eggplant dish?
I didn’t add chilli to this one as my smallest was keen on eating it by the spoonful but if you like your pickles on the feisty side I would say drop a few of your favourite hot reds in.
Eggplant Kasundi
12 finger eggplants (brinjals)
5 tomatoes
2 medium onions
1 head of garlic
1 knob of fresh ginger
1 1/2 tbsp mustard seeds
1 1/2 tbsp cumin
1 1/2 tbsp coriander
4 tbsp vegetable oil
1 1/2 cups raw sugar
250 mls apple cider vinegar
2 tsp salt
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
In a large pot add the ginger, garlic, onion and oil. Cook it up, stirring continuously over a medium heat, add your spices and continue to stir until it smells amazing. Add diced eggplants and diced fresh tomatoes. Continue stirring intermittently, pop the lid on and let the mixture cook down a little further, (you want the eggplant to be soft and cooked through.) Add the apple cider vinegar, balsamic vinegar, sugar and salt, continue cooking (stirring occasionally) over a low heat for approximately 45 minutes or until mixture thickens and comes together.
Pour hot mixture into sterilised jars.
They are incredible composters, excellent sources of protein, extremely polite by self harvesting themselves and might just be the alternate meat source that world wide dinner circles need to embrace. Say hello to the Black Soldier Fly.
Now the title of this post doesn’t even particularly make sense but hey, it was that or March of the Soldier Fly…actually, on reflection the later was probably a better choice.
The long story of how I came to have a compost bin with a seething wriggling mass of maggots, requires a pot of tea, shoes left at the front door and no place to be for an hour or more, (or something like that.)
The short version was, what started as a small maggot problem with questionable outcomes, turns out is an excellent compost larvae friend of which I have inadvertently created a home for and is now looked upon as some prime utopian real estate for soldier fly larvae.
Seriously, it really is the promised land for wriggly segmented critters.
Now before I disgust some of you any further, and you click off for good let’s quickly recap on why these (quite incredible) critters are good for your compost, (and also why you should just skip to the acceptance and embracing stage of having them in your garden/compost/table and simply bypass the revulsion and dry gagging bit that I had to go through first. I mean really, just skip that bit, these guys are awesome.
“…reduce the volume and weight of would-be waste: The larval colony breaks apart its food, churns it, and creates heat, increasing compost evaporation. Significant amounts are also converted to carbon dioxide respired by the grubs and symbiotic/mutualistic microorganisms.” (Wikipedia.)
Really, they are hoovering through the compost, considering mine is only weeks old and not as balanced as I would like it, the quality is pretty darn good. I’d say a good proportion of that is due to my wiggly segmented (creamy coloured) friends. (They can apparently reduce composts or manure down by 50-70%.)
Now I’m absolutely fascinated by these critters, having watched their behaviour over the last couple of weeks, not understanding what was happening, seeing them explode in population, and reading up a lot. I’ve gone from dry gagging to grinning excitedly and holding them in my hands.
And really, how exciting is learning something completely new eh.
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More fascinating reads found here.
And a huge thank you to my mate Sarah who introduced me to these critters in the first place.
Loving… shared local food and kindness.
Wonderful and kind people, bringing shared and much appreciated food. A jar full of honey, an armload of fragrant basil, green tomato chutney, a bucket of red tomatoes, garlic, garlic garlic, a bowl of blackberries and a divine blackberry vinegar.
Cuttings, seedlings and favourite seeds. In a transition period when things can often feel different, unsure and completely out of place- being given these locally grown gifts for immediate nourishment and long term edible growing, it’s something that is incredibly grounding.
Brings a smile to the face and a fullness in the heart that no Westfield shopping expedition could ever hope to replicate.
Nope, not ever.
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What are you loving at the moment?
[“Often life’s pleasures pass us by simply because we don’t take a moment to focus on them… Make a point of noticing everyday something that uplifts your spirit or tickles your heart… Stop to breathe in the joy of this moment and then tell someone about it. Share your joy and revel in it. When your joy is savoured, and then shared, it is magnified…” ROBIN GRILLE]
Saturday was set to be a big one. A long, heavy going, physically draining day, of which I was really looking forward to as it meant we were trying something completely different (and hey that’s always a good thing right, especially when it comes to creating a garden.)
I also had a sneaky suspicion that our already rather empty fridge and cupboards would look especially sad and sombre after a physically long and heavy day. In preparation for all of this sure I could have gone shopping but…I didn’t. Instead, the night before I made a tart shell, and not just any tart shell, but a tart shell that would happily encase a pile of mascarpone and cream goodness the following day. A drizzle of some delicious local honey and enough summer berries to make it all worth while.
The next day with tired arms and weary feet, the small people helped assemble the tart. With mascarpone whipped, all that was left was to pile all the berries on, one for the tart, one for them. It seemed to work out.
Summer Berry Tart
Pastry
150g cold butter
50g sugar
1 egg yolk
1 tsp vanilla
300g plain flour
1 tbls cold water
In a blender, pulse your flour, sugar and butter until it resembles bread crumbs. Tip out to a large mixing bowl and add vanilla, egg yolk and cold water. Knead mixture lightly until it comes together to form a dough. Roll dough between two pieces of baking paper, to about .5cm and rest in the fridge for about half an hour. Shape into your greased tart tray.
Bake blind at 180C for about 20 minutes, or until golden.
Allow tart shell to cool completely before you add the middle mixture.
Middle Mixture
300g mascarpone
300mls whipped cream
1 tsp vanilla or scraping of a vanilla pod
2 tablespoons of honey
Whip cream to soft peaks and then gently whip through the mascarpone and vanilla. Spoon mixture into the tart shell and drizzle honey over it all.
Berries
All your favourites, pop them in, and make it look gorgeous.
Eat with enthusiasm and the knowledge that there will be room for a second slice in there.
I just had a birthday.
Another year gone where I have taken breath, a breath that has been held while diving into the oceans, a breath that can hasten while riding up steep hills on a bike. A breath that can sing songs with my kids for no other reason than it feels good to sing with them. That same breath that has been granted to me, just got to blow out a candle that signified another year passed, and for that I’m incredibly grateful.
I don’t begrudge the late thirties grey hairs, I don’t shower hate on the lined page on which I write my age. I love that I am here. I could easily not be.
With my accrued numbers, I’ve played, learnt wonderful new things, talked deep into the night, eaten dishes that have delighted the taste buds, sobbed entire afternoons away, drunk deep weekend coffees in my favourite cup, had three kids that have pushed me to dizzy limits I didn’t know existed, while they’ve also exploded my heart with delirious happiness and exquisite divine love.
All of these, along with 68790 daily other things have helped create the evolving lucky layered person I am today.
Luck yes. I do feel lucky to be here as so many people who wanted to be, simply aren’t. To be able to age it’s a wonderful and curious thing. So how does it feel to be in my late 30’s?
Well at this age, choices can be contemplated and ideas are challenged, (and I love that.)
At this age I’ve got a fair idea of what I like, and what I don’t like, (which makes things a hell of a lot easier.)
At this age, I know what my body needs and what it doesn’t, (I just have to make sure that I listen.)
At this age, it feels far more confident than 28 ever did, (and hooray to that I say!)
Now I know at whatever number my age may sit, there will always be an endless supply of curiosities to discover, of thoughts to think, and of a diverse array of people to learn from. And with the time that I’m granted? Well I intend to go seek out as many of them as possible, until that simple act of getting older, well it just isn’t an option any longer.
A Swedish Pancake Cake seemed like a sensible idea to celebrate another year gone by.
This was the first time I had made one, and I’m quietly hooked. Layered, pancakes, berries, no sugar and a second slice yes please.
Swedish Pancake Cake
What you’ll need:
your favourite pancake/crepe recipe (keep them fairly thin and then build them up)
mascarpone and cream whipped together with some vanilla and honey to sweeten
mixed berries
and some extra honey drizzled over the top
Whether you are are just starting out on your fermentation journey, or have been dabbling in the delights of beneficial bacteria for awhile now, making beetroot kvass should be on your to do list. Here’s a couple of quick wonderful reasons why.
It’s Easy- Really, dead easy. Doesn’t require any crucial measuring of ingredients and is incredibly satisfying seeing the fermentation process begin within a relatively short space of time.
Your Liver- Will thank you, yes it will. Lots of info on what it does can be found here.
Probiotics are your friend- That’s good bacteria in a nutshell. You want your gut full of this stuff, full of a wonderful diverse array of different bacteria and enzymes. (Anything naturally fermented helps with this.)
Now importantly how does it taste?
If you are already accustomed to the earthy tones of raw beetroot in fresh juices, this stuff won’t be pulling any surprises. Seeing as though I’m a relative newcomer to actually liking beetroot in it’s (ahem) uncanned state, to me it tastes like…licking dirt.
Being an avid fan of anything fermented though, I shall persist and my liver will thank me for it. (Or it had better, there has to be some perks of drinking this garden tasting juice.*)
Beetroot Kvass
3 medium sized beetroot
1.5 litres cool boiled water
2 pinches of salt
Peel the skin off your beetroot and dice them up, approximately 1cm squares, if they are 2cm it wouldn’t be a tragedy however.
Pop the beetroot in a large clean glass jar, something with a wide mouth. You need the air yeasts to get to the kvass, so a large wide mouth jar is great to use. Add your salt and water, give it a little swish around to make sure the salt is dissolved and cover with a square of muslin (or paper towel) and a rubber band. Now to get things cracking a little earlier, I did add about 1/4 cup of sauerkraut juice to kick-start things a little, you could also add whey (as per Sally Fallon’s Nourishing Traditions) or nothing and just be dependent on the air yeasts that will get things fermenting.
Have a good smell of it before you put the muslin on. Your nose, eyes and taste buds are the key to great fermenting. Smell the changes as they take place, see them and lastly give it a taste test. Let those three things guide you.
I started seeing bubbles with 24 hours surprisingly, however I let it ferment for a further few days. The length of time is going to depend on the season and how warm it is in your kitchen.
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If you are new to fermenting I highly reccommend Sandor Katz’s book The Art of Fermentation it’s easy to follow and really is a ‘forever’ book that you’ll keep dipping into dependent on what you’re interested in at the time.
* You can add ginger lemon rind etc as a second ferment to tweak the flavour a bit.
How would you describe the taste of a strawberry to someone who hadn’t ever eaten one before? Soft and sweet obviously. But then, then? That’s where my descriptions falter. It tastes like…
I asked the smallest and current hardcore daily-strawberry-advocate.
“…it tastes…likkkkke… strawberry?”
Obviously not feeling particularly poetic today my girl.
Now the benefits of having a blog is being able to see what you were making a year ago, two years ago, (…or eek, 6 years ago?) I knew it was strawberry season, and I knew I wanted to make something easy. I looked at my recipe, scrutinised it for a second or two and then thought, yeah, I reckon I could go a step further in the making it even easier department.
Blend it!
And so I did.
Here’s the slightly tweaked version. Lots of seasonal strawberry goodness, and really low in processed sugar (1.4 tsp per serve.)
Now tell me, how would you describe the taste of a strawberry?
Strawberry Shortcake Crumble (serves 7)
100g butter
1 tsp vanilla extract
zest of a whole lemon
1/4 cup raw sugar
75g almond meal
150g self raising flour
hulled, washed and roughly chopped strawberries
Pop strawberries into an oven proof ramekins. In a blender, add all of your remaining ingredients together and then spoon mixture on top of strawberries. Into an oven at 180C for about 20 or so minutes or until golden.
Ridiculously quick and easy.
cityhippyfarmgirl 