Diving in bed and eggplant curry

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If I said to you that my husband likes to dive in bed, you could be forgiven in exclaiming ‘What the!’

Calm down. It’s not what you think.

The Yak, when in the throes of sleep, likes to dive.

By this I mean, imagine you are watching the Olympic Games. A diver performs a breathtaking inward two and a half somersaults in the pike position, finishing off with a perfect rip entry.

When The Yak rolls over in bed, it is not a gentle roll or turn. He is an elite athlete, standing on the end of a diving board. He then performs an incredible triple pike turn in the tuck position, before landing back atop the mattress on the other side of his body.

The bed is merely a trampoline for his nightly diving shenanigans. The re-entry that he makes when diving back into the mattress, does not translate into the same pretty ripples that a pro diver makes when hitting the water.

I am merely the judge, holding up score cards.

8.0
9.0
7.5

Rest assured (because I certainly can’t), I would rather be sleeping.

We have this curry often, actually, we have all kinds of curry often. Cause that’s how we roll.

Mustard seeds and potato are like Laurel and Hardy, Sonny and Cher, fish and chips, bubble and squeak or some may even say, the Cheergerm and the Yak. They just go together. Little pops of bright mustardy goodness paried with the soft potato is the bees knees.

Eggplant are the sponges of the vegetable world. Not like the gross, mouldy thing that may or may not be hanging in a dark corner of your shower recess. But in an awesome ‘suck the flavour out the delicious ingredients that you pop in with it’ kind of way.

Earthy, spicy, unctuous eggplant and brightly flavoured potato (how very Nigella of me). Please sir, can I have some more?

EGGPLANT AND POTATO CURRY

WHAT YOU NEED
2 tbl cooking oil
1 onion, finely diced
1 garlic clove, crushed
2 cm fresh ginger, grated
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp ground cumin
1/2 tsp turmeric powder
1 tsp brown mustard seeds
1/2 tsp chilli powder
1 1/2 tsp salt
2 large peeled potatoes, cut into 1-2 cm cubes
2 small eggplants, cut into 3 cm cubes, partially peeled (see photo below)
1 tin crushed tomatoes
12 dried curry leaves
A big handful of roughly chopped coriander

HOW YOU DO IT
Heat the oil in a medium sized saucepan, add the onions and sauté a few minutes until they start to soften.
Add garlic and ginger, cook for about 30 seconds then add all the spices and salt. Cook for 1 minute, take care not to burn the spices.
Add potato and stir, add eggplant and stir through.
Add tomatoes and 1 and 1/2 cups of water and the curry leaves.
Simmer on low to medium heat for approximately 1 hour until the potato is tender. Check for salt.
Add a handful of chopped fresh coriander to your taste.
Serve with basmati rice.
This has a zing as I used quite hot chilli powder, use less if you don’t like it spicy, use more if you like a bit of Johnny cash…

A Cheergerm creation

A happy Father’s Day to my own dad Mr Bagpipes, to the excellent Yak who is an outstanding Dad to our sproglets and to all you other big Daddies out there.

No more night songs and flourless chocolate cake

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For as long as I can remember, Kid 1 has always wanted me to sing him a bed time song. That song is Edelweiss from The Sound of Music. (Please don’t ask if I sound better than Julie Andrews ever did, I don’t want to hurt her feelings.)

Recently, my pink and purple soul was trampled upon.

As I went in to sing; my beautiful, wombat hair coloured, think outside the box, question me always, ten year old said ‘No Mum. I don’t want a song thanks.’ ‘Are you sure?’ I asked. The wobble in my voice ever so slightly perceptible (from outer space I am sure.)

I tried singing the first line. ‘No mum, I really don’t want you to sing.’

Naturally I handled this situation with adult dignity and aplomb. I didn’t really say ‘Wow, you hurt my feelings!’ (Ummm, more than once, in the pathetic hope of guilting him into allowing me to sing to him.)

Time ticked by, I thought that he would shout to me at any moment. ‘Mum, can you sing me a song?’

But that night, not a peep, squeak, burp, fart or mild kerfluffle. Perhaps this was a sign of things to come. My heart hung low as I faced the fact that this special time may have passed between us.

This mum knows that we are lucky to have each other whole and hearty. Yet I am also a mumma with a tender squidgy middle. Somewhat akin to a Cadburys strawberry soft centred chocolate. (The kind of chocolate that we ate back in the old days and now pretend that we don’t like.)

Tomorrow, I thought to myself, I will bake him his favorite cake. This is it.

(I did not, I repeat, did not, go into his room when he was asleep and sing to him. I will deny it.)

FLOURLESS CHOCOLATE CAKE

This is our celebration cake and sometimes, our ‘just because’ cake. A meringue like crispy shell with a moist, fudgy but still light crumb. It is a Donna Hay recipe that I have been baking for over ten years now. This gluten free wonder has NEVER (sorry to shout, I got a bit excited) failed me.

Not wanting to go all chocolate elitist on you, I have baked this cake with regular dark cooking chocolate and it is always very, very good. But when you use top shelf swankarama chocolate, it is elevated to the realm of special cakes that will be served in heaven.

WHAT YOU NEED
200g (7oz) chopped dark cooking chocolate (I used Callebaut dark chocolate)
150g (5oz) butter, chopped
5 eggs, separated
3/4 cup caster (superfine) sugar (I used raw caster sugar)
1 1/2 cups almond meal
Icing sugar for dusting

WHAT YOU DO
Preheat oven to 160C (325F). Line and grease a non-stick 22cm (9 in) springform cake tin.
Place chocolate and butter in a saucepan over low heat and stir until melted and combined.
Cool slightly, then pour into a large bowl.
Stir in the egg yolks, sugar and almond meal.
In a separate bowl, whisk the eggwhites until stiff peaks form.
Fold the egg whites into the chocolate mixture until just combined.
Spoon the mixture into the cake tin and bake for 1 hour and 5 minutes or until cooked when tested with a skewer. (I usually test it at 50 minutes.)
Cool completely in the tin.
Run a knife around the edge of the cake and remove from the tin.
Dust with icing sugar. It’s grand when served with berries and double cream.

From a Donna hay magazine from 10 years ago. A second dedication goes out to Jon, cause she loves this cake.

Cooking Notes: when melting chocolate be aware that water is the enemy as it will make the mixture seize up. Use a super, clean bowl when whisking egg whites.

Variations on a theme: Use orange flavoured dark cooking chocolate and decorate with thin slices of candied orange. For a spiced version add 1/2 tsp each of cardamom powder and cinnamon powder to the almond meal and sugar mixture and stir well.

PostScript. Lately Kid 1 has wanted me to sing again so I am enjoying this reprieve whilst it lasts.

IMG_2108

Shadow sisters and the Apple Bar

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Time away with friends is precious. A week or so ago, I was lucky enough to spend three whole nights and four, yes four, days away with some long time girlfriends. One of these gorgeous women has a mum-in-law with a beautiful 100 acre property outside of Bathurst in the NSW countryside in Rock Forest. We have been lucky enough to visit there before and were excited to get the chance to go there once again.

We travelled up on the Thursday, kidlets tucked safely away in school. Us womenfolk giddy with freedom and hedonistic joy, crammed ourselves into a car and headed up towards the Blue Mountains. There may have been whooping, I cannot deny or confirm that.

First stop is Leura, a delightful Blue Mountains town. We wandered happily through craft, homeware and vintage shops. Lunch was at the Red Door Cafe where we ate a superb salmon fillet with crispy skin, preserved lemon, capers, nut butter sauce on a bed of mash. People, this dish was the bees knees. A yummy goats cheese tart with rocket, balsamic and caramelised onion was also consumed without complaint. Then, a few groceries were purchased and we piled back in the car.

Before we knew it we had arrived. The gate is opened and we drive onto this rocky and glorious landscape. (This area ain’t called Rock Forest for nowt.) We organise ourselves with military precision and a brisk walk up the driveway settles down the crazy car leg spasms we have all contracted.

The inaugural fire is built by our very own talented fire starter. This spacious log mansion has a spectacular open fireplace and a mantlepiece that is as solid as the rock of Gibraltar. Fizzy wine is popped, whilst cheese and bikkie snackles hit the spot. Yes, we now know we are on holiday.

Cold, cold country nights with clear sparkling skies. The night song of the river rocks me to sleep and is a salve to my citified soul.

Friday morning we ventured into Bathurst town to the divine Legall Patisserie once more, where toffee choux and other assorted delights were the order of the day. We ate patisserie for our breakfast, oh yeah. A quick squiz at the well cool Keppel Street shops, then a takeaway Fish River coffee from the Hub and back to the farm for some more hard work chilling out. Lunch was silky scrambled eggs and crunchy bacon with a side serving of tomatoes and mushrooms. Why? Because we can have breakfast for lunch if we damn well please.

Shadow sister figures on rocks, movies that made us cry until our insides hurt and caused eyes to swell up like stepped on puffer fish. We revel in this time to be just ourselves without being mums, wives or employees. We are not ungrateful for these roles but it’s good to feel the form of ‘just yourself’ once again.

Rocks in the shape of particular body parts that made us guffaw our way back down the hill. Our raucousness causes kangaroos to jump and sheep looked at us askance as they once again followed each other (as sheep will do) away from the insanity of five women laughing like their lives might just depend upon it.

Cliff the alpaca stood his ground and guarded the sheep because his life might very well depend upon it.

Steaming hot bowls of slow cooked Chilli Con Carne for dinner shore us up until the next feed. And who knew that it also makes a great breakfast dish on toast?

This trip is free from animal attack. On a previous trip a baby giant bat flew into the hair of one of our number in a vicious nighttime attack. It’s hard to explain the horror of being awoken by a high pitched squeak and a rustle across the top of your head. The brave woman valiantly fought off this flying rat with wings but vowed never to sleep in that particular bedroom again. To this very day, she never has.

Reading books that have been greedily hoarded for this occasion in the sweet knowledge and safety that there is no ‘Mum, Mum…I need, want, would like…’ The sunny, funny days warmed every vertebrae in our spines as we sat and read on grassy knolls overlooking the Macquarie River. The temperature at night dropped into the minuses but winter weight doonas soothed and lulled us into a satiated slumber. (As did a good side serving of nougat, chocolate and the odd glass of wine.)

Homemade chicken soup made by one of us, really is good for the soul. Friendship with these women isn’t always about seeing eye to eye. The longer we know each other we sometimes speak truths that are softened by good food and the solid love that underpins these conversations. The sounds of the crackling fire is the only musical backdrop we need on this long, lazy weekend.

Naturally, all good things must come to an end and as my wise mother always says, you can’t come back if you don’t leave. The blow of going home is softened by a lunch visit to the Apple Bar in Bilpin. We had booked weeks in advance to ensure we got a table. The food here floats our boats. A glass of Pinot Gris from Orange sets the tone, as does the glow from the fireplace.

This simple, rustic restaurant has an eclectic group of diners ranging from our sweet selves to inner city hipsters, from country folk to grey nomad travellers passing by. Choices are made from a menu overflowing with good sounding tucker. This Cheergerm gobbles down an amazing wood grilled pork loin cutlet with Patomaki’s messmate honey, black pepper, garlic, soya glaze, avocado salad with chips. I kid you not, this was the best darned pork I have eaten in years. Juicy and tender with a sweet spicy glaze. The assumption is that Patomaki’s messmate honey is a honey from bees that hang out near eucalypts but whatever it’s story, it tastes darned good.

Other dishes included a glorious woodgrilled salmon fillet with Lombok ‘Honeymoon’ sauce and a tasty version of fish and chips using lightly battered mirror dory.

The good news is that I married my dessert and we are now living happily together in a two bedroom bedsit in the inner city. Churros with a caramel mou and Belgian chocolate ice cream. Crunchy batons of deep fried batter with a melting interior accompanied by a fancy caramel sauce with hints of salt. The chocolate ice cream is to die for, it’s bitter undertones the perfect foil to the richness of the sauce. Other desserts tasted were a decent caramelised upside down orange and poppy seed cake and a rather wonderful gluten free local raspberry, coconut, white chocolate and almond clafoutis. (Try saying that five times quickly.)

Satiated we said adios to the Apple Bar and continued on our merry way back to the bosoms of our beloved families, who were waiting with bated breath for our return. (Hello, I’m home….hello…anyone here?)

Goodbye dear shadow sisters, until next years trip.

http://www.applebar.com.au

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Red-Door-Cafe/171123429579921?ref=ts&fref=ts

https://www.facebook.com/LegallPatisserieCafe

http://www.fishriverroasters.com.au

https://www.facebook.com/thehubbathurst

http://www.visitnsw.com/destinations/country-nsw/bathurst-area

http://www.visitnsw.com/destinations/blue-mountains

Bathurst and bagpipes

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We recently took an extended weekend to travel to the NSW country town of Bathurst. This is the chosen place of residence for our Papa, Mr Bagpipes. He was celebrating a rather, cough cough, significant birthday. How old you ask? Bloody 70, he would reply. Despite his misgivings, this is a good thing. He is a young 70.. I mean, like a 21 year old 70.

Beautiful Bathurst was the place of the first goldrush in Australia. With a population of around 41,000 people, there is an elegant and historic city centre with a slightly slowed down country feel. To balance this, Bathurst is also a university town with a youthful and energetic vibe. It is famous for Mount Panaroma, an internationally known race track that attracts petrolheads from all over every October for the awesomely noisy Bathurst 1000.

Bathurst is a bit of an understated beauty. The dark haired, brown eyed demure lass who stands undemandingly in the corner. But when you give her your full attention, she shines like soft sunlight on a stained glass window.

There is no sugar coating it, in winter it is BC…Bloody Cold. But what better excuse to rug up in your snuggliest clothes and traverse from shop to shop, park to park, red apple cheeked like someone from a 1950’s American TV sitcom? There is much to appreciate. The fine architecture, fabulous food and coffee and great shoes. (Shoes do matter, well, they do to me….)

First stop, Legall Patisserie, this is when I really know we are in Bathurst. Toffee choux, lemon tart and creme brûlée tart. Naturally, I have no scientific basis for the next claim but this has got to be the best patisserie in Australia. I kid you not. The light choux pastry balls filled with fresh cream and coated in a thin crunchy almost burnt but not, toffee coating almost bring me undone. Served with Fish River coffee, blended locally, this java always has a luscious, smooth mouthfeel and great aftertaste. It ain’t crap people.

Icicles on bench parks and shrubbery, Jack Duggans Irish pub for plates of cockle warming country food the size of a small galaxy and pints of velvety Guinness that make the world a happier place. Duck feeding at the pond, excellent takeaway coffee from Crema or Country Fruit and fat ice creams (yes, children will still eat them, even when it is 9 degrees outside.)

Green leprechaun boots from Gorgeousness, the temple of all things girly and beauiful. The very cool Keppel Street with the marvellous secondhand shop The Naked Bud, op shops and other delightful wee retail outlets worth a squiz at. Artisan handcrafted takeaway pizza from Capers, devoured in the stunning cottage rented by Sister No 4. (We all had serious rental house envy.)

And the shindig itself? Come Saturday evening, we popped our glad rags on and headed off to celebrate. Mr Bagpipes had booked out The Hub, Espresso Bar & Eatery for the entire evening. A charming, partially red wall painted, cosy eatery on the aforementioned Keppell Street. Owned and operated by Mr Ross, a chilled out dude who’s personality is reflected in the happy food and service this wee gem provides.

Family and friends of Mr Bagpipes gathered from near and far in this welcoming space and sipped on sparkling wine whilst snarfling delicious tidbits of canapés. The chilled dinner party atmosphere was framed by the beautiful musicianship of Aaron Hopper and Rob Shannon. Mr Bagpipes surprised us all by banging out a few cool tunes on the bagpipes accompanied by Mr Shannon on the tabla, an Indian drum. The mystic sounds took us to a more ancient time where windy, bagged instruments ran free on stilted legs, shepherded by crazy, wee percussion instruments.

Back to the food. To start, a cauliflower soup served with truffle oil and fine shavings of fresh truffle. Holy fungi! Seriously, one of the most luxurious soups to ever slide down the gob of this greedy Cheergerm. The sweet brassica was highlighted by the hard to describe, earthy taste that is that strange little orb, the truffle. This was followed by tender crusted lamb rack on a bed of kumara mash, a red wine jus and lovely steamed fresh garden vegetables. Vegetarians and the vegetarian Silly Yak dined on a tasty veggie curry. They were well pleased.

Music, warmth, poetry, food, wine and laughter. Hopefully Mr Bagpipe’s heart swelled as his friend piped in the kiwi decorated birthday cake. Celebrations are important, they might not totally erase the darker times but they feed our souls and give us hope for the future.

Enough of that serious malarkey, let’s talk dessert. Adorable piccolos of Fish River Coffee came to the table accompanied by Sister No 2’s amazeballs kiwi covered birthday chocolate stout fruit cake and slices of lemon tart from Legall next door.

Sunday, in party recovery mode, we drove through freezing cold sleet like rain to visit the Beekeepers Inn 20 minutes outside of Bathurst. We enjoyed nice food and coffee along with a great honey tasting station, a myriad of amber honey jars, bee type goodies and gourmet yummy things to peruse. As night fell, we met once again in the enviable cottage rental for great warming Indian curry from Tamarin Indian Restaurant.

Before we took our leave on Monday, we needed to stuff our faces for the last hurrah. Back to The Hub we went. Trunkey Creek triple smoked bacon was the business served with heavenly (give me a hallelujah chorus from the balcony) scrambled eggs that were like tiny little hobbit clouds. A friend devoured chorizo, sweet potato rosti and poached eggs topped with a silky hollandaise sauce that was lemony and not heavy or overpowering as some. A reliable expert on sausages (the Polish stepfather) assured me the fennel and pork sausage with beans was superb. No words left his mouth whilst he chowed down.

So happy birthday Dad, as you traverse into the next decade of your life, may the road rise up to meet you and the melodic drone of bagpipes be the continuing soundtrack to your life.

Bathurst, we will be back.

https://www.facebook.com/LegallPatisserieCafe

http://www.fishriverroasters.com.au

https://www.facebook.com/thehubbathurst

http://www.jackduggans.com.au

http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Naked-Bud/138814430734

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Gorgeousness/264710080253858

http://www.beekeepersinn.com

https://www.facebook.com/TamarinRestaraunt

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http://www.visitnsw.com/destinations/country-nsw/bathurst-area

Gluten free ginger crunch and Original Thought

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Recently, Kid 2 (who is 7 years old) was rolling and generally lollygagging around on the floor. He pipes up.
‘I have never had an original thought in my life.’

He didn’t appear perturbed, upset or even surprised at this revelation. The kid has a point. Is there really anything new under the sun? I am no philosopher but it is hard to believe that in the billions of thoughts that have existed in our space-time continuum, that a truly ‘original thought’ exists.

During a search on ‘t’internet’ for a quote on the theory of original thought (just to highlight how erudite and intellectual this Cheergerm can get), I got bored and started looking at photos of cats performing amazing ridiculous feats. Next, I googled ‘space-time continuum’ because, well, that’s how my brain works. (I use the word ‘works’ loosely.) I stumbled/googlebumbled upon the following quote, which has nothing to do with original thought at all. Or, does it?

‘The whole fabric of the space-time continuum is not merely curved, it is in fact, totally bent’. This quote harks from the novel The Restaurant at the End of the Universe’, by Douglas Adams of ‘Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy’ fame. One of my favourite all time authors.

By now you may be screaming asking politely, ‘what was the bloody point of all that?’ Bear with me folks. This spicy and delicate recipe is a gluten free re-work of a favourite old school New Zealand slice. Whilst I am certainly not claiming it is an original, there is a small point of difference in the use of buckwheat, sorghum and teff flours. However, I am sure that somewhere in this bendy, curvy universe of ours, somebody else has already thought of it before.

GLUTEN FREE GINGER CRUNCH

WHAT YOU NEED
Base
80g brown sugar (or coconut sugar)
100g gluten free plain flour
50g teff flour
40g almond meal (if you can’t use nuts you can substitute for buckwheat flour)
2 tbl psyllium husk (about 10g)
1 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp gluten free baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
115g butter, room temperature

Icing
55g butter
1 tbsp golden syrup
2 tsp ground ginger
55g icing sugar (make sure it’s pure icing sugar and gluten free)

HOW YOU DO IT
Base
Preheat oven to 180C and line a shallow 30 x 21cm tin with baking paper.
Put all the dry ingredients into a food processor and pulse briefly to combine them. Drop in the butter and process just until the mixture forms fine crumbs. (You can do this all by hand, rubbing the butter into the flour but machine mixing is easier!)
Pour the crumbs into the tin, spread them out evenly and press down firmly using your fingers to compact them slightly. They will stick together properly as they bake.
Bake for 20 – 25 minutes until the mixture is a pale golden brown.

Icing
While the base is cooking, put the butter, golden syrup and ginger into a saucepan and heat gently, stirring. When they are melted and combined, tip in the icing sugar mixture and mix to a fairly runny consistency.
Remove the base from the oven and immediately pour on the icing. Spread it evenly over the surface with a spatula.
Cut the mixture into fingers or squares, leave to cool then break it apart along the cuts and store in an airtight container.
Makes 12 squares or more fingers.
Recipe Note: I usually double those recipe and just use a 32cm x 24cm baking tray.

A Cheergerm adaptation from Ladies, A Plate by Alexa Johnston

Postscript.
It desperately occurred to me that the word ‘googlebumbled’ may be a truly ‘original’ Cheergerm thought or creation. As I had never heard it before, what choice did one have but to google it? It thus far appears to have never been googled as an actual ‘word’.

Just saying.

Go here for the non-gluten free version, Ginger Cat Crunch Slice
https://cheergerm.wordpress.com/2014/03/30/ginger-cat-crunch/

Kale, red onion and a splash of verjuice

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Dear snotty lady in the overpriced posh food shop many years ago,

Four score and twenty years ago, I came in to your store and asked for some verjuice. I pronounced it exactly as it was spelt. Saying ‘ver’, then ‘juice’ as in ‘orange juice’. You looked down your elongated nose and pronounced in your very best plum in the mouth, lower northshore accent. ‘Surely dear, you mean ver-jus’. (Your pronunciation of the ‘juice’ as in the French pronuciation of the word jus…rhyming with zhoo..like ach-choo but softer).

Yes, you did make me feel ten cm tall (and I am barely taller than that anyway). I slunk away that day, clutching my bottle of unripe grape juice to my slightly wounded pride.

I write today to happily inform you that your elitist attitude didn’t deter me from continuing on my food journey. Some of the foodie jobs I have held did consist of educating others. I truly hope I have never contributed towards making anyone feel as small I as felt, when I left your shop that day.

This big, wide wonderful world of food is a never ending journey of exciting discoveries. Learning new things everyday rocks my very being.

Yours delightfully,

Cheergerm

PS Get stuffed.

KALE AND RED ONION with a splash of verjuice!

WHAT YOU NEED
2 tbl garlic infused olive oil or regular olive oil
1 medium red/Spanish onion, sliced
1 red capsicum, sliced
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp chilli flakes
1 bunch kale washed and chopped into 2-3cm strips
Splash of verjuice or squeeze of lemon

HOW YOU DO IT
In a large frypan, sauté the onion, capsicum, salt and chilli over low to medium heat until they are soft and starting to caramelise, about 15 -20 minutes.
Add the kale, stir and cook for 10 – 15 minutes until it starts to soften.
Add a large splash of verjuice (or lemon) and stir to mix through until the verjuice starts to sizzle.
Season with extra salt and pepper to taste.

This dish is great by itself as a light lunch or dinner. Also as a side to eggs, grilled meats, casseroles, tofu dishes, anything your wee heart desires really.

This is also good with a couple of cloves of crushed garlic, added just before you pop in the kale. Due to the Yak having to talk to people all day, sometimes we have to dial back on the garlic during the week.

A cheergerm recipe

What the heck is verjuice anyhoo?

Made from unripe grapes, it was used in the Middle Ages as a condiment in sauces or to deglaze particular dishes. It is a alternative to vinegar. One of my food heroes, Maggie Beer, was at the forefront of bringing verjuice back into popularity by being the first (her claim) in the world to produce it commercially.

The mild acidity of verjuice is a real bonus. It isn’t as ‘in yo face’ as lemon juice or vinegar and is great in dishes where you want a gentler acidic alternative. You should be able to find it in good delis and in some supermarkets.

I love it as an alternative to vinegar and lemon in dressings, tossed over sautéed veggies and also to deglaze the pan juices of meat, cheese and other veggies dishes.

Please note the beautiful white pottery bowl I popped the kale in. Made by one of my fabulous New Zealand aunts who is a very talented potter.

Verjuice 375mL

Shades of Orange

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Over Easter, the Yak, kidlets and myself enjoyed a family sojourn with Dad (Mr Bapgpipes) and his partner, the divine Ms N, in the beautiful countryside of Orange, breathing clean air and looking at big skies.

Orange is located about 3 1/2 hours from Sydney in Western NSW. Fertile soil in this region produces quality fruits, wine, beef and lamb. Orange has become somewhat of a country foodie Mecca for those who enjoy the delights of the table.

We were lucky to stay a few kilometres outside of Orange on about five acres of property. Ms N, was housesitting a gorgeous homestead that also had a little cottage attached. The home was a glorious blend of old and new and spoke of both the past and the present.

Scattered throughout the garden were ancient cold climate trees and shrubbery, lovingly highlighted by artistic touches in places you least expected them. Two fantastic dogs, a miniature pony, bunny rabbit and loads of running space. What else could two small lads (and parents) want?

Friday was a day of relaxation, a lunch of warming lentil soup cooked by Ms N and a slap up lasagna for dinner. Snuggling up under winter weight doonas in the chill, still quiet of the night was a balm for our weary, urbanised souls. Early morning cuddles with little boys who will soon grow out of such nonsense. I stroked their soft faces and clasped their warm little hands, baby fat has melted away into the leaner bodies of small children. If I close my eyes I can still see the chubby legs and starfish hands of their babyhood.

Saturday consisted of morning coffee at the very cool Agrestic Cafe in a renovated old mill. The food looked great but we opted for a coffee only, which took a little while to arrive. One of the sproglets ordered a very delicious, certainly homemade banana bread, served with the most scrumptious handmade pat of butter.

Alongside this hip bustling place was a nifty little grocery selling a variety of local produce. We purchased some pretty little bunches of heirloom carrots and an award winning local feta cheese. As foodie gifts, some local pistachios, chemical free sultanas and spices also fell into the ‘take home basket’. There were local wines, olive oils, olives and vinegars to choose from as well as an abundance of local fresh fruit and veg.

Coffee cravings satiated, we took off for a hoon around Orange and up Mt Canoblas. The views from this extinct volcano were fantastic. Autumn leaves were just beginning to turn and vines were starting to change colour. Much needed recent rain meant the hills were covered in a swathe of emerald green grass. All this fresh air and natural beauty was starting to put the zing back in our zang.

Mr Bagpipes had booked a table for lunch at the Sisters Rock (yes they do) restaurant at Borrodell Vineyard. Plopped on the side of Mt Canoblas, this stunningly idyllic rustic restaurant looks out over vineyards and farmlets. The boys were happy with the children’s menu and us grown ups were more than happy with our choices.

Ms N and I gobbled up pithivier’s (posh for pie) of leeks and mushrooms with a tomato salsa and balsamic reduction. Mr Bagpipes has been on a venison roll lately, oh dear. (Sorry). He heartily enjoyed a loin of venison that was cleverly paired with a Borrodell red wine and plum spiced syrup . The Yak chowed down on a sinful twice cooked cheese soufflé with sides of asparagus and walnut butter as well as hand cut chips with lemongrass mayonnaise. This cheergerm dreamily sipped on a delicious glass of the Borrodel sparkling wine whilst plotting ways of moving out to the country.

Orange town itself comprises of traditionally wide Australian country streets, lined with trees in various autumnal shades. Beautiful heritage houses and buildings abound. Fantastic looking shops (closed due to Easter, ‘thank goodness!’ cried the Yak) and bountiful cafés and restaurants, enough to satisfy the hungriest visitor.

The rest of our time consisted of Easter eggs hunts, devouring chocolate, small boys climbing and playing, reading, cooking and walking. I watched our giggling lads swing from a rope ladder attached to a magnificent oak tree and tucked this memory into my heart. These days really are the best days of our lives and sometimes it’s easy to look past the simple moments of joy.

Sadly, holidays must come to an end. Farewells were said as little boys hugged doggers, horses and people that they had spent special time with.

A big thanks to Ms N for her delightful hospitality and the big box of Fuyu persimmons we took back from the property. These round little fruits are reminiscent of a Renoir still life painting. Having tasted one, the astringency quite knocked my socks off. The next fruit tasted was over ripe and mushy (almost gelatinous, my least favourite food texture). However, the actual flavour was quite nice. Mildly sweet, almost like a soft banana (that isn’t a banana), mayhaps a persimmon cake will eventuate in the near future, once they ripen more.

The heirloom carrots and feta ended up as part of Easter lunch, keep your eyes peeled for the next post.

For now, I leave you with a few images our country sojourn.

http://orangepost.com.au/the-agrestic-grocer-agrarians-orange/

http://www.borrodell.com.au/restaurant

http://www.visitorange.com.au

Market love

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We are lucky enough to have a thriving local Growers/Food Market round these here parts. Look at all the beautiful goodies I scooped up today!

What floats my boat the most about these kind of markets? Methinks it’s the endless possibilities, the excitement of seeing vibrant fresh fruit and vegetables in season. The ‘what can I cook for dinner tonight?’ Perusing beautiful sourdough artisan breads (including gluten free), handmade cheeses and raw organic honey. A pear is no longer just a pear. It could become a caramelised pear cake or sliced, doused with lemon juice and thrown into a walnut and goats cheese salad. Pear, honey and pecan muffins anyone?

As a regular market goer for a number of years, I was asked to participate in a wee interview the other day by the Hornsby Market peeps. The lovely Jane sent me a few questions which I happily answered. If you would like to take a squiz, click on the link are the end of this post that will take you to the Organic Food Market blog.

I don’t feel entirely comfortable with throwing questions out into the blogosphere (the possibility of not being answered seems a tad, ummm, sad). However, I got my ‘market on’ today and I would love to hear from you about your fave growers/farmers market experiences. Do you have one near you, what do you like to buy and what is one of your fave recipes using a market ingredient?

If no-one answers, it’s cool. I will be at the Hornsby Market filling my belly with the scrumptious pancakes made by the cute French guys.

http://hornsby-markets.blogspot.com.au/2014/04/sharing-some-hornsby-market-love-with.html?spref=fb

Gluten free lime slice and what the heck is teff flour?

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MORNING
It’s Saturday morning, I am lying abed…reading, sipping tea and pondering the real meaning of life. (In other words, procrastinating the inevitable getting up and starting the day.) I have a vanilla soy candle burning and all is quiet and still….until…two small boys come bounding into the bedroom like Labrador puppies. Arms and legs flailing, falling over one another. ‘What’s that delicious smell?’ they cry. ‘We can smell it through out the whole house,’ ‘Is it something good to eat?’

‘Fraid not me laddies. It’s just the delightful scent of the candle you gave me for Chrissy, smells great hey?’ Disappointment radiates from every inch of their wiry beings. The sproglets gallop around the room once or twice. Any sadness at the lack of good things to eat is somewhat tempered by Kid 1 snarfling the TV remotes and taking off downstairs, I presume to watch something enlightening and educational on the Cartoon Network. 

Thoughts of this day now encroach. Yes, vanilla pervades my senses but I remember the big bag of luminous limes in the fridge. Lime slice with a hint of vanilla methinks. Gluten free, with buckwheat, teff flour…butter, now you are talking.

WHAT THE HECK IS TEFF FLOUR?
A brief ramble regarding teff flour, if I may. This gluten free ancient grain is teeny tiny but chock full of nutrition. Native to Ethiopia, it is believed that teff originated between 4000 BC and 1000 BC. I have used brown teff flour which is higher in protein than wheat and has a high concentration of nutrients such as calcium, thiamin and iron. Research has shown that the iron from teff is easily absorbed into the body. It is high in fibre and can help control blood sugar levels.

The only downer is that here in Australia, it hasn’t been easy to get. My last bag was Bob’s Red Mill Teff Flour from a local health food store and they have been out of stock for a few months now. Only a tiny bit remains, so this great hunter will soon set off once again to track down the teff. Will keep you posted on it’s whereabouts.

Overridingly this slice is all about the lime, with a touch of vanilla. (This post may give a small insight into the intricate, um, cough, workings of a Cheergerm mind.) The Yak says it has a caramel flavour, possibly from the coconut sugar. The slice is a little crunchy on the outer edge but more tender in the middle. Being a citrus lover, it’s my cup of tea. And that is exactly how it was enjoyed by The Yak and myself, alongside a cup of good, strong brew.

YOU NEED
Slice Base
150g buckwheat flour
50 g teff flour (or brown rice flour, millet flour or plain GF flour)
1 tsp baking powder
100g coconut sugar (feel free to use rapadura or raw caster sugar)
115 g butter
1 heaped tbl lime zest (3 small limes lost their zest to aid this recipe)
1/2 tsp vanilla paste

Icing
40 g butter
2 tbl lime juice
60g pure icing sugar, sifted

METHOD
Preheat the oven to 180 C and line a shallow 30cm x 21cm tin with baking paper.
Put the dry ingredients into a food processor and pulse briefly to combine.
Pop in the butter, lime zest and vanilla paste, process until the mixture resembles fine sand.
Tip the mixture into the tin, spreading out evenly and pressing down firmly with your fingers. It may seem crumbly but don’t freak out. It will all stick together once it’s baked.
Bake for 20-25 minutes until the mixture is golden brown.
Whilst the slice is in the oven, put the butter and lime juice into a saucepan and stir over low heat. Once the mixture is melted, add the icing sugar and mix. It will be a runny consistency.
When the base is removed from the oven, pour the icing over and spread it out evenly. Let it sit for a few minutes.
Cut the mixture into squares and leave to cool. You can break it apart once it has cooled completely and store in an airtight container. Makes 12 largish square pieces.

A Cheergerm recipe

A spot of holiday reading

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A little while ago I purchased the book Kitchen Table Memoirs. Only now, in the quiet aftermath of Christmas have I been able to sit and finally read it. The last two days have found me scurrying away to quiet corners (it would be easier to find a unicorn in this household) to voraciously devour this wee gem of a book. Not only is it a fine collection of Aussie writers personal kitchen table memories, but every book purchased helps Foodbank’s fight to end hunger.

These stories made me both giggle and guffaw out loud. They touched my heart and tantalised my taste buds. After finishing and experiencing the ‘great book post blues’, I plonk myself down at our own kitchen table. Hands placed atop, I look good and hard at an object that I have always loved but maybe have taken for granted.

It is a solid piece of wooden furniture that seats 6-8 comfortably but can magically accommodate more when required. Already an antique when my parents purchased it back in the 70’s, it is made of Western Australian hardwood and has stood the test of time.

Our childhood memories are engrained onto its surface. Hours of art and craft, happy times, the darker times and the varying foods that our adventurous mumma placed upon there. Back then, Mum was a member of a health food co-op and as such, our table saw homemade bread, yoghurt made from scratch, wholemeal pizza bases and other hippy based Moosewood style dishes. (And no, I did not eat all of it, crying in disgust ‘I just want normal shop bought white bread like other kids get!’).

At other times, more exotic dishes were laid to rest on the glitter speckled wood. Italian style cannelloni made with paper thin crepes and Indian style green beans come foremost to mind. I remember the cannelloni being made for those crazy 70’s dinner parties, replete with bearded men and women in flowing embroidered blouses. I am sure the table saw it’s fair share of red wine stains from wine that my father and his hairy cohorts had bottled themselves.

And always the more steady food of Mum’s upbringing. Irish stews, scones, vegetable soups and many delicious baked slices such as Belgian slice and the super yummy Weetbix based Scott’s Farewell Slice. Being an orchadist’s daughter, there was always an abundance of fresh fruit and veg. An hereditary condition methinks.

Our ma has always been emphatic that she was not a great cook but her 4 daughters beg to differ and I am sure if the table could speak, it would agree with us.

The table is now regularly laden with our lads Lego, various game pieces, homework, colouring pencils and paper. And of course the many meals lovingly (and at times begrudgingly) placed upon it. The patina of our life is now being written into it’s beloved wooden surface.

It speaks of the funny (?) time I arrived home after a weekend away and how The Yak (with a loving heart) had sanded it down and re-stained it a hideous yellowy varnish that shone like a bloody beacon in the night. Tears did fall that day.

Our extended family now gather around it. We are not little girls anymore but grown women with careers, families, joys and troubles of our own. This table joins us, even when we are disconnected.

It speaks of friends who have joined us and the many words and feelings that have sunk into this receptacle of our lives.

This table reminds me that we are not only what we eat. We are also where we eat and who we choose to eat with. Of the importance that food plays in the fabric of our daily lives, not only as sustenance but in the making of memories. After reading Kitchen Table Memoirs, I don’t think I shall ever take our table for granted again.

For further details on this wonderful book and on Foodbank, go here:

http://www.foodbank.org.au/2013/04/11/kitchen-table-memoirs/