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ardysez

~ surrender to yourself

ardysez

Category Archives: Food

Photos, places and recipes about great food

last one out…

28 Tuesday Apr 2020

Posted by Ardys in Food, gardening, Travel

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

babylonstoren, Food, franschhoek, organicfarm, southafrica

We could have had one last safari, making six, before we left Gondwana. But the last two had taken a toll on my tummy that I just couldn’t shake. The effect was worse than the roughest seas on the cruise and Don was happy to be done as well. We decided to get an early start for Franschhoek (pronounced: Fran-chook). We knew we were running low on energy and we had to save some for whatever might happen on our trip home.

Farewell Gondwana.

When we said farewell to Felix we could tell he was very worried about his family and how he would support them. Gondwana had announced they would be winding down at the end of that week, keeping only a basic crew to maintain the reserve.

‘last one out, turn off the lights’

He’s behind me making fart noises, isn’t he?

Just as when we had arrived to a welcoming committee, we left with a cheeky farewell from the Gondwana inhabitants. As we drove past small towns and townships* we felt quite heavy and sad, for we could see what was coming. In the townships people live very close together and many have poor hygiene and no transport, so they were hitchhiking rides. A perfect ‘vehicle’ for an eager virus. Even though the government was being very proactive with regard to the virus, and there were only a few hundred cases at that stage, we just knew what would likely befall them.

Woman making ‘rooster bread’ at Swellendam.

The drive was, again, very pretty landscape, and we had a nice, albeit brief, refuel and loo stop in Swellendam. We watched a local woman making ‘rooster bread’ as it is called. There was a little cafe two doors away who would make the dough and this lady came every day to cook the bread for them. She would roll the dough into mounds, then one at a time she would place a mound on the grill and pat it down. When it cooked on one side she turned it over to the other side and then stacked them up ready for the cafe to use. Apparently they put anything in them you would use in a sandwich. I would loved to have tried one, but we weren’t the least bit hungry so I asked to take the photos and thanked the woman, and we were on our way again.

wildflower in the mountain pass

We drove through the Franschhoek Pass to get to the town and so we had a stunning view of the area even before we’d arrived. This region, as with Stellenbosch, was famous for wine, but we were not going to experience that side of things on this trip, due to the alcohol restrictions. Our accommodation was a rather unusual place, set beautifully with the mountain as backdrop and a stunning scene from the outside tables as well. The L’ermitage Franschhoek Chateau was what I would call a group of holiday apartments, large bedroom and sitting area, with kitchenette and luxurious bathroom. There were all kinds of balconies and outside areas to sit which we used to advantage, while planning our activity for the following day. The place was even set out for weddings, with its own chapel and small reception hall. That evening there was a small wedding and reception, without alcohol but nonetheless enjoyed.

Entrance to L’ermitage Franschhoek Chateau.
Photo from L’Ermitage Villas, Franschhoek, looking out the window of the restaurant.
Empty streets of Franschhoek.

When it came right down to it, the town was mostly empty and with the wineries and museums closed we had to get a bit creative. We had seen something about a large organic farm a short drive from town and decided we would drive there and see if they were open. Again, we were lucky. They were open and due to small crowds, we had a private tour around the main gardens. It was their last day to be open due to lockdown measures and it was the most incredible place of that type we have ever visited. Babylonstoren** used their own organic produce to make nearly everything that was sold on the farm. There was a winery (closed, of course), a farm shop with dairy products, breads, meats, olives and many other things. The Scent Factory used their own herbs to make soaps, creams, perfume and other products. Also there were two restaurants, one that served large meals and one with smaller offerings, called The Greenhouse, our choice later in the afternoon. The lamb and olive pie, halloumi and salad sandwich and a shared dessert, were all homemade using their own organic ingredients.

It was the most relaxing, nourishing and calm place you can imagine and a perfect choice for our last full day in South Africa.

The Scent Factory was true to its name. The essential oils filled the air and when we left I felt like I’d had an aromatherapy treatment!

The last morning we were away smartly, though CapeTown was only an hour’s drive. By the time we filled the car with petrol, dropped off the rental and got to the airport several hours had elapsed. We had an hour or so to wait but we had eaten breakfast before departing L’ermitage, even though breakfast was being served in the airport lounge. I noted the food was all open and subject to any airborne germs that might be around, so I was glad I wasn’t hungry. I was pretty sure that uncovered food would not be the case for much longer. We could feel the tension everywhere.

So you see, the things we worry will happen to us, seldom do. And the things that we never see coming are the ones to bring us undone. Our bags were never lost. We were never sick, or seasick. I seldom had any problem finding food I could eat or the appropriate clothes from my suitcase. Even my pants fit perfectly to the very end.

Big challenges yield big memories…and they don’t get much bigger.

Thank you for traveling with me.

The return trip that takes up from here is here.

*townships are loosely equivalent to Indigenous communities in Australia, or Indian reservations in the USA

**Babylonstoren, so called because of the various languages in South Africa, having been settled by the French Huganots and the Dutch centuries before. And ‘storen’ is the word for ‘hill’ taken from one of those languages. The garden was designed by French architect Patrice Taravella.

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too much of a good thing…

17 Friday Apr 2020

Posted by Ardys in Food

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

comfortfood, frenchfood, frenchpastry, ponantcruises

When things are difficult, we yearn for comfort. As we neared the end of the cruise and tensions were raising due to the many uncertainties, the Chef and his staff consistently soothed us with pastries and afternoon teas. It felt like my absolute duty to taste-test the offerings. Research, you understand.

Warning: items shown in this blog post have been consumed. Discretion is advised.

Each night for the entire cruise, we returned from dinner to a small pastry or sweet of some kind. Often we were too full and too tired to eat it, but it was such a nice little thing to return to the room, bed turned down, towels refreshed, room tidied, and two little night nibbles. One evening in particular there appeared on our freshly turned down bed, two perfectly lovely little boxes decorated with a likeness of French author, Marcel Proust. Each contained one of his favourite small, shell shaped cakes known as ‘madeleines’.

It seemed only polite to sample the many breads, pastries and croissant freshly baked for breakfast each morning. I remained restrained throughout, but carefully worked my way through, the flakey fruit pastries, the croissant and the many varieties of bread that were beautifully displayed. I regularly returned to favourites like croissant and grainy bread. Mostly I had a bowl of fruit and a piece or two of cheese, followed by a pastry or piece of bread…delicious…with butter. If that sounds sinful, guilty as charged.

For lunch and dinner there was also bread but often I saved myself for a little dessert. One of the best things about desserts were the very small servings. Could this be the secret to how French women stay so slim? One could taste and enjoy without completely throwing caution to the wind. Or when one felt compelled, try two or three things…because they were so very tiny…not me of course…but I heard stories…

My two favourite meals were a confit duck pie, and vegetables on polenta. Most meals were very good, even with me having to dodge onion in things, but these two were outstanding, comfort food dishes, while being a bit gourmet as well.

Confit Duck Parmentier, french shepherd’s pie, a piece of grainy bread and a glass of rosé.
Vegetables on polenta, perfectly creamy and comforting.

For the first half of the cruise I am sorry to say I purposely avoided the afternoon teas. There was so much good food at meal times and then there was the whole ‘will my pants fit me in another three weeks?’ issue. I thought discretion was called for. However. I made up for it the last week or so when they started doing themed teas…

Parisian classics – the tiny one dipped in chocolate is a small madeleine…the round one to the left was my favourite ‘cookie’, a crisp buttery morsel, but one was never enough, the little tiny ‘loaf’ shaped cake was almond.

French Regional Classics –tiny donuts in sugar, an almond bread filled with lemon curd, and an orange flavoured glutinous mouthful to the right

Choux and Mille Feuille–choux pastry filled with custard, and crispy layered pastry, likewise filled with custard

 Macarons–classic meringue shells with pistachio, chocolate or vanilla cream filling

And Crêpes Suzette, so tender and sweet, it was comfort on a plate.

Oo lala. So fancy.

For those who are partial to savoury tea treats, there was a ‘pata negra’ tasting (Spanish ham, named for the hoof colour of the pigs from which it is made), caviar tasting, and often tiny little toasted French sandwiches.

Creme Caramel is always a favourite of mine and this was no exception. The photo doesn’t look so attractive, but the flavour was delicious. Also, a favourite was the lemon tart. So clean, crisp and just sweet enough. This came in two forms, a single serving tart with meringue topping, and a simple tart with no topping. I preferred the simple tart but somehow missed getting a good photo of it…probably ate it too fast.

I also would not refuse this almond and nut tart if someone sat it in front of me.

The pièce de résistance, however, was the chocolate tart. It really was perfection. The filling was rich and velvety, the pastry crisp and light. Merveilleux. (I learned the French word for ‘marvellous’ just so I could complement the chef)

Food and wine wasn’t the most important reason we chose this trip, but it was certainly a major contributor to our enjoyment. And too much of a good thing can be wonderful, n’est-ce pas?

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giddyup to the coffee horse…

17 Tuesday Jul 2018

Posted by Ardys in Alice Springs, Food

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

alicesprings, coffee, coffeehorse, lifestyle

To say I don’t get out much would probably be an understatement. I’m not a gadabout when we are in town. I don’t like crowds so I don’t even attend exhibition openings, choosing to go after the opening to see an exhibition. I see many amazing sights when we travel so when I’m at home, I’m at home…except… that my good friend introduced me to the Coffee Horse.

coffee-horse-alicesprings

My good friend, Betty helping me solve the problems of the world! Note the rocky outcrop in the distance.

It is hard to put into exact words why the Coffee Horse has me infatuated, but it does. Betty feels the same. Some of the reasons we love living in Alice Springs are the down to earth experiences of having the bushland nearby, a thriving arts community and people wanting to ‘have a go’ at doing something a bit unusual.  Coffee Horse has it all. I hope I haven’t gone and spoiled it now that I’ve let the cat out of the bag! We also like that Alice is a small enough place that you can get to know the owners of the various shops, but big enough to be anonymous if you want to be…more or less.

Of course the flip side of our isolated, small town life is that we sometimes long for the finer things the city can offer. Recently, and arguably, our best hairdresser in town closed its doors after 36 years and some of us are mourning the loss and wondering if we are doomed to be follicle-ly challenged for the remainder of our days. So, it is with great appreciation, that we have discovered another place which feels special.

Many of you will have seen or procured coffee from a ‘coffee van’. On our recent travels a coffee van in the middle of nowhere seemed like a little miracle. One coffee-less morning on a lonely stretch of road in New Zealand, my husband and I saw a handwritten sign, alerting us that we could get ‘good coffee to go’–on a stretch of road that looked highly improbable. In fact my husband stated his doubts aloud, in the form of a chuckle when I proposed we might find coffee on the road between Franz Josef and Haast. He further expressed doubt as to the quality of such a find, to which I responded, ‘you can get a very good cup of coffee from a coffee van’. Moments later, like a mirage in the wilderness, there it was, the coffee van. Festive flags motioning us with their siren-call-promise of a great coffee. It was all true. I promise. It’s not often I’m right, but on this occasion I was…absolutely.

Salted Caramel Cheesecake beacons!
Salted Caramel Cheesecake beacons!
Who is that hanging about over my shoulder???
Who is that hanging about over my shoulder???
Good coffee and a little sewing or reading, thank you very much.
Good coffee and a little sewing or reading, thank you very much.

Meanwhile back in Alice…The Coffee Horse is an unassuming, small, repurposed caravan, located on a lot with a thriving art supply and framing business. Also, located next to it on the same lot is a shoemaker. I don’t mean a shoe repairer, I mean a shoe-maker of fine custom fitted shoes, for which you have to wait. Quality takes time. His website says requests are currently closed but you can leave a contact when there is an opening. Good for him. Sprinkled about the grounds is evidence of the creative hearts that have passed through this place—sculptures made from ‘junque’ and repurposed items —one person’s trash is another’s treasure…

At the back of the lot, behind the outbuildings, sits one of Alice’s many rocky outcrops. Sometimes when we are sitting and soaking up the winter sun, or shaded from the heat in summer, you can see kangaroos hopping through the scrub. Now you don’t get that in a city cafe!

People from all around this light industrial area come to fill their ‘keep cups’ and have a break from their day.  Some buy the custom made pottery cups, or opt for the standard, mismatched mugs and cups. The coffee that fills them is second to none. Decaf is my poison of choice and it is as good as any I’ve ever had. They make lovely toasted sandwiches (I’ve heard) and their vegan, grain-free treats are delicious (I’ve dabbled). There is no loud music playing, just the coming and going and quiet conversations of patrons. Some quietly indulge in a book, or sewing, others have their heads down in their phones, though I don’t see that very often. Most people are quietly chatting and laughing. It is a happy place. Even Alison, who operates this little oasis, gets a short break now and then. You can find the Coffee Horse on Instagram. Her new creation opens at a second location, near Watch This Space Gallery, next week. It will be called the ‘Silver Brumby’–a ‘brumby’ is a wild horse. We will check it out and report back to you.

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Creator of the Coffee Horse, Alison, soaking up some winter sun.

Who would have thought a young woman with an old repurposed caravan could draw me out of my house and into an alternative comfort zone?

In Alison’s words ‘May the horse be with you!’ And with you Alison…and with you.

 

**I have not received any payment or even free coffee for this post, I just thought you might enjoy this slice of Alice Springs life.

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the road to Fleur’s place…

02 Saturday Jun 2018

Posted by Ardys in Food, Travel

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

coffee, fairypenguins, fleursplace, newzealand, Travel

There is probably little left that I can add to what has already been said about Fleur Sullivan, either by herself or by the many thousands who have eaten at one of her restaurants. Even when the renowned Rick Stein was asked if he could eat any place in the world, where would it be? Answered Fleur’s Place in Moeraki ‘because how could you want anything more?’fullsizeoutput_3f58

Fortunately a colleague had mentioned this to Don some weeks before we began our trip, because you definitely need a booking to be assured of a table. We had only a couple of hours’ drive between Dunedin and Oamaru the day we drove through Moeraki, and we planned it so we could have lunch at Fleur’s Place. But first…we had to take me to Mazagran Espresso Bar* before leaving Dunedin. I needed another one of the best coffees I’ve ever had, having also had one the day before. Thank you Mr. Google. Don is very patient with my coffee addiction, just as I am patient with his wine enthusiasm. We have suffered worse.

Mazagran roasts and grinds their own coffee beans to order.
Mazagran roasts and grinds their own coffee beans to order.
Only 11 seats in the café, four of them outside
Only 11 seats in the café, four of them outside

All coffee-d up and ready for the next leg of our adventure we decided to explore an area just south of Moeraki called Shag Point. And yes, we did see the real life idiom ‘Shag on a rock’ that is a familiar Aussie description for someone hanging about, alone. Shags are a type of bird, and they were true to their reputation, lonely and abandoned looking, though in large groups. I know, makes no sense.  It was also a viewing point for the native New Zealand fur seals. They lazed about that sunny morning on the well worn cliffs…looking for all the world like large brown…well, you know…logs. Ahem. My iPhone makes them look smaller and farther away than they were. They were enormous. It was heartening to see them in quite a few places around the South Island during the three weeks we visited. They had been endangered at one point, hunted to near obliteration for their fur, but are now protected and have repopulated well.

fullsizeoutput_402c

native fur seals basking in the sun

It was still a bit early for our one o’clock lunch at Fleur’s so we drove up the coast just a few minutes passed the turn off to Moeraki to view another natural phenomenon, the Moeraki boulders. These are very peculiar, perfectly round, rock formations like nothing we had ever seen. Some looked as if the cliffs were giving birth, revealing the boulders where they must have formed millions of years previously.

visitors shown at the boulders, for scale
visitors shown at the boulders, for scale
birth of a Moeraki boulder
birth of a Moeraki boulder
boulder of Moeraki with large seaweed
boulder of Moeraki with large seaweed

Finally, the time was near when we could deliver ourselves to the much anticipated lunch. Still being a few minutes early, we slowly approached, observing the setting from across the bay, then closer, letting the ambiance soak in. The restaurant was purpose built but it has the casual feel of a hybrid fisherman’s cottage come boat shed. Inside, neatly scrawled all over the walls and window sills patrons had left their names and often their gratitude for Fleur, praise for the food and atmosphere. (I guess people just need to validate their having been in a place, as per last post…) Once again, we had never been any place quite like it. This was becoming a mantra for our visit to the South Island.

detail of inscribed window frames 'fish heaven on earth' says one...
detail of inscribed window frames ‘fish heaven on earth’ says one…
Fleur's Place from across the small bay
Fleur’s Place from across the small bay
interior with bum :)
interior with bum 🙂
Fleur's Place front entrance
Fleur’s Place front entrance
what remains...
what remains…

If you don’t like seafood you probably wouldn’t have liked the menu, however, we were spoilt for choice. Given my consumption limitations I stayed with my new favourite fish, Blue Cod, a New Zealand speciality. It was pan fried with no flour and served on a bed of the freshest cooked vegetables, accompanied by home made tartar sauce and lemon. That fish had probably been swimming around only 12 hours previously and the freshness was definitely reflected in the flavour. Now, I didn’t really need dessert, but if you think a little thing like that was going to stop me trying Fleur’s Crème Brûlée, you don’t know me very well! Don ordered an apple crumble with homemade ice-cream for his dessert. We did not need dinner that evening. And this time, that really did stop us!

Blue Cod with fresh vegetables and home made tartar sauce
Blue Cod with fresh vegetables and home made tartar sauce
apple crumble with homemade vanilla ice cream
apple crumble with homemade vanilla ice cream
crème brûlée a la Fleur
crème brûlée a la Fleur

Fleur’s Place was really as much an experience as it was a restaurant. Watching 76 year old Fleur hefting boxes around and fussing about place settings, then sitting down with some of the diners, and then returning to her duties was like a well rehearsed play. Two of the people who served us had French accents and one was New Zealand. We wondered with Fleur’s french name if there was a connection and I suppose I will find out if I read her memoir. (there is a nice photo of Fleur on the cover)

The entire experience was delightful from beginning to end and we kind of hated to leave when our meal was finished. So we wandered around outside and I happily took a few more photos.

Finally able to shed our jackets for a while on this sunny day.
Finally able to shed our jackets for a while on this sunny day.
Notice the reused bottles of 'gin' containing table water...
Notice the reused bottles of ‘gin’ containing table water…
IMG_2460

IMG_2465

large fur seal that slept through the entire arrival of visitors and the fairy penguins

Somewhat reluctantly we drove on to what was our destination for the next three nights. Our accommodation in Oamaru (Fleur’s hometown) was a 1930’s B&B. Our hostess gave us details and said it was an ideal evening to go and see the Fairy Penguins arrive on shore. So off we went to purchase tickets for the nightly arrival of the adorable, little blue penguins. When I say little, I mean tiny. They are only about 30cm (12”) tall, some even smaller. They come in after dark, in ‘rafts’ (groups) of about 20-30 at a time. The water is rough and they have to scramble up a rocky bank and you fear for them every time. But this is their life and they are well adapted. That night 148 arrived and scurried across the open ground between the two pavilions of spectators. We were told to be very quiet and there was absolutely no photography allowed so you will have to check out this link and imagine the cuteness overload! I still smile every time I recall those impossibly small, blue darlings*.

We arrived ‘home’ at our B&B, very cold from being on Penguin watch, but our hosts had turned on the electric blanket, the under floor heating in the bathroom, and the heater for the room. Now you don’t get that in a hotel!! We snuggled in, dreaming of Fleur’s and little blue apparitions.

When I think back about this day, I see that it embodied the very essence of New Zealand. It had been a perfect banquet of quirkiness, kind people, wild animals, and amazing food, against a backdrop of stunning beauty, wrapped up in one delicious day. The road less traveled is a wonder.

IMG_2426

boulders and the sea

*Mazagran is a cold, sweetened coffee drink that originated in Algeria

*The only other place in the world you can see fairy penguins in the wild, besides New Zealand, is Phillip Island in Australia. The observation stands in Oamaru were built well after the preservation of the dwindling colony was reversed and all steps have been taken to protect this naturally occurring colony.

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the comfort of food…

25 Sunday Feb 2018

Posted by Ardys in Cook's Edit, Food, Health

≈ 19 Comments

Tags

comfortfood, health, healthy eating

IMG_5799Some of us eat to live. Others live to eat. I probably fall somewhere in the middle of that continuum. Influencing personal preferences are things like cultural and family rituals, environment and health. For most adults, it is one of the few things we can do in life that is totally up to us as to when, how and what we consume. But I have found, that my body and mind often disagree about what I should be eating, and that can be a problem.

In July of 2017 I quit eating grains. All of them. Not a fad or weight-loss diet, it was an informed choice—or as informed as is possible with food intolerances, which are quite mysterious. Having a psoriatic rash extending from my upper back to my legs, and periodic eczema, I was desperate to fix the problem, if possible. It had worsened over the year I was eating gluten free so that didn’t seem to be the answer…what to do? Quit grains…and then what?

After only 3 days the itching stopped. After 3 weeks the rash started to fade a bit and I was losing weight that had slowly crept on over a period of five years. It wasn’t a lot of weight, but it was stubborn and seemingly immoveable. And then it left. Not sorry to see you go! Now, some 8 months later, I am still noticing changes for the better. Not wanting to get into the very contested issues around medical versus alternative treatments of things, I will say that tests show that my blood sugar level has decreased from high to normal, cholesterol has adjusted to normal and there is a marked difference in inflammatory symptoms, such as arthritis. And more…

I still have a list of food intolerances, but have noticed that a few things seem to be digesting much better and eczema is no longer a problem. It reminds me of that movie about Benjamin Button, the one where he ages in reverse. It kind of feels like my body is returning to normal, whatever that was. It has been a long time.

I’m not on a bandwagon to tell you to eat any certain way, we are all different. I do what seems right for myself and leave others to make their own choices. My choices are informed. I read and update my knowledge continually. Be your own advocate, I say.

Perhaps the most valuable food and life lesson was told to me over 25 years ago when I began to try and heal myself. A naturopath told me ‘Make a list of all the things you CAN eat and post it on the fridge. That way, when you are hungry you will see all the available options, rather than all the things you need to avoid’. It was a lesson in perspective–food for thought, in every sense.

In recent years I’ve become very dedicated to my morning cup of coffee. Some days it seemed it was the only bright spot in the day, not that my life is horrible, it isn’t. But food and drink consumption has been a lifelong challenge and the bright spots are not always easy to come by. The siren call of morning coffee, however, seemed to take on an elevated need to satisfy. Why? I only have the one cup, and it is half-caf, that is half decaf beans and half normal beans, ground and steeped together for my morning joie-de-vivre. I even enjoy the ritual of making my pour-over coffee. In cold weather I sometimes have a second cup but it is all decaf. Yes, caffein has become something I am also sensitive to. More’s the pity. For me, coffee is a comfort. I have been drinking it since childhood, when Grandma would ask me if I wanted her to make me some of her ‘rat poison’ (instant coffee) and we would both giggle with devilish delight. She would make me a milky cup, sweet with sugar. My parents always had coffee in the mornings and so have I. Morning just doesn’t feel right without it.*

I try to understand these things but sometimes the full picture eludes me, until one day while I’m reading or listening or watching, another piece of the puzzle snaps into place. One such day happened this month, listening to the BBC Food Program about ‘comfort food’. Most people understand what that term means, but few of us would identify the same food(s) to describe it. Usually, comfort food is something that reminds you of childhood, of home, or of a special meal, person or place. Often, all of the above! For me, comfort food was Mom’s homemade stewed chicken and dumplings, pecan pie, pancakes, mashed potatoes with gravy and fried chicken…and also, milky coffee.

As I began listening to the podcast I wondered, ‘…am I going to be able to get through this?’…such was the intensity with which people recalled their comfort foods and why. Eating can be a personal pleasure for one, or hold even deeper meaning, going to the heart of family culture and tradition. Nearly all of the foods described are things I can no longer eat. But I persevered. Not one to accept a joyless diet gracefully, I am used to researching cooking methods, foods and recipes that can restore my joie while also feeding my family and friends. Recent efforts have, of course, been focused on foods without grains.

Continuing to listen, I realised my search was not only for nutritional reasons, I had also been searching for a new set of comfort foods. 

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Slow cooked chicken and vegetable soup

Many of the old comfort foods were just not possible to recreate satisfactorily with alternative ingredients that did not include grains, or flour, as we know it. Fried chicken made with almond meal just didn’t make the grade. However, stewed chicken like Mom used to make for eating with dumplings or noodles, made into ‘Zoodle Soup’ is pretty good. It is a slow cooked chicken and vegetable soup made with zucchini ‘noodles’ (‘zoodles’) or in my case, stick shapes cut on the mandolin slicer, because I didn’t want to have another gadget in my kitchen. The zoodles remind me of the way Mom would sometimes break spaghetti into shorter pieces for soups. The soup is savoury and wholesome and what you would want if you had a cold or flu. That’s the comfort test, isn’t it? When you are sad, or sick, what do you want to eat that makes you feel better?

Russian ‘Syrniki’ or ricotta pancakes were soon to be added to my repertoire.

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Russian-style Syrniki, ricotta pancakes with yogurt and berries

And an ersatz English-style Muffin fills the void, when I want a crispy vehicle for butter and jam.

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grain free English-style Muffin with cashew butter and plum jam

My greatest triumph so far has been French-style Apple Cake. It looks and tastes like my distant memory of the real deal, and everyone who has eaten it thinks it is delicious and special, as is its namesake.

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French-style Apple Cake

I realise I will never replicate the exact feeling of those old comfort foods because they are flavours that were established in the beginning of my life. But there is great pleasure, and comfort, in creating new dishes for this phase of my life.

So what do you want to eat that gives you comfort? Go on, I’m tough, hit me with it….

 

*(I have eliminated coffee several times over the years, once for three years, replacing with green, herbal or black tea and not found any health benefits.)

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what Christmas looks like at my house

18 Sunday Dec 2016

Posted by Ardys in Food, Life

≈ 23 Comments

Tags

baking, Christmas, stress, tradition

I have been particularly grumpy about Christmas this year. There is much hype and expectation, particularly heaped on women at this time of year, and it is hard to avoid. It has been said Christmas (as we currently celebrate it) would not happen were it not for women. Does that also mean we have the power to change it, if we want to? I think maybe it does.

One of the most annoying parts for me is, most of the tradition centres around Northern Hemisphere, and cold climate practices. In case you aren’t aware of it, it is 100F/38C here in my part of Australia at the moment. Aussies have done their best to move away from the hot cooked foods of our ancestors, but with other things we are not so evolved.

I understand why the tradition of Santa (Kris Kringle) has been perpetuated, but really, that hot, fur trimmed suit and the whole snow thing could take a rest, don’t you think?

Our family livelihood was growing Christmas trees. It was hard work for all of us. Sometimes we actually worked in the fields, trimming and harvesting them. Sometimes we were the support crew for those who did. I can tell you, the spindly, half dead tree I saw in the grocery store this week, presumably the last of a very small selection, bore no resemblance to a tree grown in Southern Ohio, where my brother still grows and sells trees.

In an effort to try and decipher the basis of my grumbles this year, I decided to see if doing things a bit differently might help. Traditions carried over from another life and another land, may just not be the most useful in current times.

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party lights amongst my natural treasures

Our daughter and her fiancé will be here for a few days and in an effort to keep my head from spinning right off my body, I asked her if she would mind if I didn’t put up a tree and decorations. She readily said it wasn’t necessary. Bless her. The next thing I did was put hubby on notice, that his useful presence would be required to help with various small chores, among them cooking on the grill.

What to do about the baking? Baking is a hot activity, even in an air conditioned house. I got a window of opportunity two weeks ago when we had a cool, rainy spell, so I quickly decided I would have enough time and energy for one thing and what would that be?? Our daughter always asks for the White Fruitcake and Pecan Sandies. Choose one. I can’t make the Sandies gluten free, but I can make the fruitcake gluten free, so that was the one I chose. Selfish of me, perhaps, but who needs the stress of cooking and being around food you can’t eat yourself?

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White Fruit Cake (Gluten free version)

As it happened, another gluten free recipe from my friend Francesca’s blog Almost Italian, came across my inbox in a very timely manner. It looked simple and like it would be the perfect replacement for Sandies. And it is.so.delicious. Baking only takes 15 minutes in a slow oven so even I could accommodate that on a 100F/38C day like yesterday.

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Almond, Cherry and Chocolate Biscotti

The whole sending cards thing was a no brainer, and a no-doer. That ship has sailed.

Gifts are minimal and either consumable, as in edible or use-up-able, or in the case of our daughter and her fiancé things that will help them in their life. Hubby and I have each other’s Presence and that is all we need.

So in a nutshell, here are my five changes toward a lower stress Christmas:

  • No Christmas decorations, only a small nod to festivity via some party lights and found objects from my morning walks
  • Ask for help and keep the cooking simple and on the grill, if possible
  • Bake less, enjoy it more
  • Don’t send Christmas cards unless you love doing it
  • Give gifts that will enhance the other person’s life, not to give you a thrill when they open it

Keeping things simpler has given me a lighter heart. There are no prizes for baking the most, shopping the most, sending the most cards, or having the biggest display of decorations. Presence is the best gift to give everyone, including yourself. Wishing you and yours the best of whatever you want for yourselves.

img_3590PS. Here is the proof I do own an apron, and a sense of humour as well! x

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living dangerously…

14 Wednesday Dec 2016

Posted by Ardys in Cook's Edit, Food

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

baking, biscuits, cookies, dairy free, gluten free, maplesyrup, oranges, refined sugar free

If ever you are feeling particularly murderous and audacious, but wanting to bake all at the same time, here is what you do.

  1. Take a perfectly nice recipe that calls for a cup of freshly squeezed orange juice.
  2. Substitute blood oranges (because that is what you have on hand) for the regular kind.
  3. Hand squeeze them with a citrus juicer. (Warning: murderous tendency may either be heightened or diminished by the visceral act of hand-squeezing blood oranges.)

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    the blood and the orange

     

4. When you are nearly finished look down at what you are wearing.

If it is a pure white linen shirt …you are really living on the edge, so go for it. If the shirt looks like something from CSI, take it out and shred it and get some stress release. Better still, burn it. As we know, that leaves fewer clues. If you escaped without a drop on your shirt, as soon as you finish baking, go buy a lottery ticket.

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the syrup over warm biscuits, don’t they look deceptively good? HA!

I was all set, in fact had already written this post to include the recipe, when horror of horrors, the resulting biscuits/cookies were no good! The taste was okay, but nothing to rave about, but the problem was they upset both my husband and my digestion! Now, I’m normally sensitive, so not so surprising for me. But my husband has an iron gut and can eat just about anything. The biscuits were gluten free, dairy free and refined sugar free, a good start, one would think. But it just goes to show, anything can be problematic.

To be honest, I often have problems with refined sugar alternatives. Honey and maple syrup both have free fructose in them in sufficient quantities to upset me if I consume too much. And while I can usually get away with small amounts of citrus fruit, the juice is much more concentrated with fructans as well. I’m just guessing here, but I’ve necessarily become a pretty good detective. In the end, I had all my luck up front with this recipe, as you can see from my pristine white linen shirt. How did that happen???? No need for the lottery tickets, it was obvious my luck had run out when I ate one of the biscuits. They were a bit fussy to make, too, and while I was curious enough to try them, I have simpler recipes that I will share with you some time when I’ve recovered my composure.

Enjoy your day.

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white linen shirt, that escaped bloody oranges

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the euphoria of bread and butter pudding…

07 Sunday Aug 2016

Posted by Ardys in Food, In My Kitchen

≈ 22 Comments

Tags

Food

I don’t make many cakes or desserts or slices because we would just eat them. But once or twice in the winter I make bread and butter pudding. In recent years I made it just for Him because I didn’t like the gluten free version and I couldn’t eat the wheat version. But now that I am able to eat my own sourdough spelt bread, I thought it was high time to revisit this favourite of ours.

It is a comfort food that goes waaaay back to the days when people could ill afford the many sweet treats we now lavish upon ourselves, often to detriment. Historians have traced it back to the 11th and 12th centuries in England, then called ‘poor man’s pudding’. My husband would disagree with the idea that good bread and butter pudding is anything but the highest culinary accomplishment, be it for rich or poor man. He goes to his ‘happy place’ when I make this bread and butter pudding. Such is his euphoria, he seems to struggle to find enough ways to express his joy, each complement greater than the last. This time he declared “You could feed this to anyone and they would love it”. Well, of course that’s not true, there are plenty of people who won’t or can’t eat something like this. But if you can, and will, I recommend it.

fresh from the oven in the early evening light

fresh from the oven in the early evening light

Ardys’s Bread and Butter Pudding

8 thick, or 10 thin slices good, but stale, bread (I use my homemade spelt sourdough here)

Approx. 1/2 C unsalted butter, softened to room temp., or spreadable consistency

weight or push the slices down into the liquid

weight or push the slices down into the liquid

Approx. 1/3 C sultanas (raisins)

Approx. 1/2 C apricot jam

2 C whole milk

3 eggs

1 tsp. vanilla essence (extract)

1/2 C sugar

Butter all slices of bread on both sides. Then spread the apricot jam on one side only of each slice. Butter sides and bottom of a deep casserole (about 2 quart).  Place one layer of bread into bottom, sprinkle with 1/2 the sultanas.  Place another layer of buttered bread on top and repeat the layering.  Add a third layer of buttered/jam bread for the final layer. 

Mix together the milk, eggs, vanilla and sugar, stirring well to combine, then pour over the bread layers.  Let this sit for 45 minutes or longer, during which time you can weight the bread down into the liquid, or press it down with the back of a spoon a few times. Make sure all edges are soaked so they don’t burn when baking.  Meanwhile preheat the oven to 185 C, (375 F).  Bake for about 50 minutes, or until golden on top and knife comes out clean when inserted into centre of pudding.  Serve warm topped with more milk, cream or ice cream, or enjoy on its own.

Serves: 6-8

(The recipe can also be found under the heading of Breads/Baked Goods)

the proof of the pudding...

the proof of the pudding…

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revised overnight sourdough, and the trouble with no bubbles

09 Thursday Jun 2016

Posted by Ardys in Food

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

bread, Food, homemade bread, sourdough bread, spelt bread

close up of the gorgeousness

close up of the gorgeousness

If you don’t eat bread or are not a fan of cooking posts, you will want to find something else to read. Several of my readers are interested in this process, which is why I’m writing it; I’m not planning to become a food blog. Normal service will resume soon:)

Okay, so I know our winters are mild compared to the North American winters where I grew up. However, we do get very cold nights in the minus range (-6, 21F) and certainly in the low single digits regularly. Having no central heat, this means our house gets cold overnight. And the follow on from this means that my overnight proving of bread method (adapted from Celia’s original method here) needed to be altered.

Here is Celia’s latest adaptation of her overnight method, which incorporates some helpful videos and also adapts the recipe to a higher hydration and uses some spelt flour, but is mostly wheat. She does also have a 100% spelt recipe here, however it uses her normal wheat starter, I believe and mine uses a spelt starter.

Here is my latest adaptation of Celia’s latest overnight method which incorporates more hydration, more whole meal spelt, but is 100% spelt including the starter. I have also changed the timings to allow for the cooler winter temperatures.

Latest loaf from Revised Winter Sourdough recipe

Latest loaf from Revised Winter Sourdough recipe

and the crumb…

crumb from Revised Winter Sourdough recipe

crumb from Revised Winter Sourdough recipe

Confused? Just use my latest method above for a higher hydration loaf that also incorporates more whole meal spelt, creating a more wholesome and flavourful loaf. If you get confused about technique, consult Celia’s blog, she is the expert and has great tutorials. I’m just learning, but my recipe does work, as you can see in the photos.

my secret weapon

my secret weapon

I also want to share with those who bake bread, my secret weapon for those cold nights, which produce quite varied results in the proving stage of the overnight dough. Yes, I have a secret weapon that does not destroy life, but helps it along, especially if you are a little ‘yeastie’ living in sourdough, or if you have cold feet, but that’s another post… I present to you the rice filled heat bag. Not novel, probably been used to help bread raise before too, but it was new to me for this purpose so I thought I would share it.
In the morning if I find the overnight low in the house has prevented the dough from proving to the expansion it does in warmer weather I put the heat bag in the microwave for a minute on high. I then place it under the covered bowl to gently boost the proving activity. Also, I have found that doing the same thing by sandwiching the heat bag between two baking trays with the shaped loaf on the top tray, gently speeds up the raising process that might otherwise be painfully slow if you are waiting to bake due to other pressing things. Just make sure you only heat the bag to the normal temperature you would place it on your skin so the heat is a gentle one. You don’t want the dough to over-prove.

My starter has never had bubbles until today. It was an odd thing and why I didn’t give up on it I don’t know. From my first loaf of bread, I moved through the various steps of bred making based on times because here was no evidence of activity, until after the overnight prove and then it looks like this…

Dough after overnight prove

Dough after overnight prove

I did some reading this week and an experienced baker in Leura NSW says the starter needs to be kept in a plastic container with the lid ajar so that it gets air. This was the first I had heard this, so two days ago I tried it. Today when I needed to feed the starter before going away for a week, there were bubbles!! If you have thoughts on this, please leave them below. As I said, I’m still learning!

Also, please have a read of my friend Francesca’s bread baking adventures here, and my friend Sandra’s extra handy post with a calculation table for various amounts of starter so you will waste less. This incredible community continues to grow and develop much like the starter Celia began it all with. We are all part of a valuable movement that cares about the quality of our food, and those with whom we share it.

Happy baking. xx

 

 

 

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…connections, the gifts we give to ourselves

22 Sunday May 2016

Posted by Ardys in Food, Health, Life

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

Food, health, homemade bread, life, spelt bread

I have been thinking about connections.  Specifically, connections with people, as well as whatever else sustains us in our lives. These are the true gifts we give to ourselves.

What started my thought processes ticking over was a passage from a book I’m still reading called ‘Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life’ by Barbara Kingsolver. It is a rather lengthy quote, but has so much to offer.

“…cooking is good citizenship. It’s the only way to get serious about putting locally raised foods into your diet, which keeps farmlands healthy and grocery money in the neighborhood. Cooking and eating with children teaches them civility and practical skills they can use later on to save money and stay healthy, whatever may happen in their lifetimes to the gas-fueled food industry. Family time is at a premium for most of us, and legitimate competing interests can easily crowd out cooking. But if grabbing fast food is the only way to get the kids to their healthy fresh-air soccer practice on time, that’s an interesting call. Arterial-plaque specials that save minutes now can cost years, later on. Households that have lost the soul of cooking from their routines may not know what they’re missing: the song of a stir-fry sizzle, the small talk of clinking measuring spoons, the yeasty scent of rising dough, the painting of flavors onto a pizza before it slides into the oven. The choreography of many people working in one kitchen is, by itself, a certain definition of family, after people have made their separate ways home to be together. The nurturing arts are more than just icing on the cake, insofar as they influence survival. We have dealt to today’s kids the statistical hand of a shorter life expectancy than their parents, which would be us, the ones taking care of them. Our thrown-away food culture is the sole reason.”

Recently, against much hesitation, I took a leap of faith that I was hoping would yield the product of a bread I could eat again. My hesitation was about spending time trying to do something that seemed beyond my technical ability, and for perhaps not particularly brilliant results. After years of retraining myself not to eat bread and pasta, I wasn’t even certain my ‘care factor’ was strong enough to inspire the new efforts. I used to bake wheat bread many years ago, with only moderate success, and so I was not at all certain this was an endeavour to satisfy the rather high standards for my food. But back then I didn’t have the connection with blog friends and the internet to support me!

loaf three

loaf three

loaf one.

loaf one.

After years of not being able to digest wheat options in any form, except the tiniest amounts, bread I can eat is like a little miracle in my life. As the Universe often does, it conspired to support me. The author of a blog I follow has similar problems with similar foods to myself (FODMAPS, google it, it is not as uncommon as you would think). Through her diligence she developed a spelt sourdough starter, tested it, dried it and sent some to me, along with copious notes and instructions. After text messages and a phone call I got through making my first loaf.

It was very dense, not ideal, but it was edible.

The second loaf was more edible, as was the third. More research was required. More practice as well. The fourth loaf was a breakthrough, and the fifth loaf confirmed my skills. But after five weeks of trying, loaf six…was…brilliant (she said modestly).

gorgeous oven spring of loaf SIX!

gorgeous oven spring of loaf SIX!

I think I may be hooked. There is something so satisfying about taking flour, water and salt and making something to nourish one’s body, not to mention is a beautiful thing! It is the connection with our food that our culture has nearly lost. A few brave and dedicated souls, like Barbara Kingsolver and her family, Michael Pollan, the Slow Food Movement, and the entire population of France, are helping us see our way back again.

So, this gift of bread making is more than just a connection to my food. It is the practice of a lifelong source of joy—making something with my hands. And it is the return of another joy, eating, and sharing good bread. This, my friends is how we should give to ourselves. And this, my friends is my gift to you…the recipe 🙂

Perfect texture for sandwiches or toast
Perfect texture for sandwiches or toast
mixture of higher hydration dough--very soft and sticky
mixture of higher hydration dough–very soft and sticky
after proving overnight
after proving overnight
the joy of toast and butter
the joy of toast and butter

More resources if you wish to make your own connection with sourdough bread making: figjamandlimecordial; pleasepasstherecipe; zebbakes

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