Time passages*

Just yesterday, it dawned on me that January, and nearly one-twelfth of the year, has nearly gone.  With that, this morning, we notice that the angle of the sun has changed – it’s moved north and west.

PinkBouganvillaFlowersJan2016
The windswept pile of puce bougainvillaea flowers – a harbinger of autumn

Funny how time surreptitiously passes us by and we don’t notice until something happens.

I get the sense that many of us, of a certain age, have had that driven home to us in the last few days, particularly with the deaths of David Bowie and Glen Frey.  Both made music that is integral to the soundtrack of my life and when I hear it, I’m instantly transported back to those times.  Good and not so good.  All part of the fabulous fabric of life.

And this, picture not-so-surreptitiously added in, is of the interior of bowl, a gorgeous gift from nearly a year ago, and which continues to fascinate me, for its shape, texture and colour.  A surreptitious entry into Hugh’s Weekly Photo Challenge.

JanCarolineBowlFeb2015

Finally, one of my favourite Bowie songs.  Dunno why.  And it includes fabulous instrumental bits – sax, violin, piano.

Last word

This post, surreptitiously prepared while I should have been working, is thanks to Linda’s unsurreptitious suggestion that I do something with today’s Just Jot It January prompt.

LindaGHill_jjj-2016

*with apologies to Al Stewart

© Fiona’s Favourites 2016

2016

Two thousand and sixteen.  It sounds like the title of a thirty-year-old sci-fi movie.  Except that it’s neither that nor the future, it’s now; this year “of our Lord” 2016.  In 1978, and as a fifteen-year-old, we were given an English composition assignment:  Portrait of myself in the year 2000.  Only ten years after the release of Stanley Kubrik’s iconic 2001:  A Space Odyssey, 2000 was more than half my then lifetime away;  being thirty-seven seemed inconceivable.  I saw in that year with my grieving father, in Grahamstown, drinking the largest Glenfiddich I have ever had the pleasure to drink.

DadFiMumGrad1984
One of my happiest memories with my parents. I had never seen Dad happier nor more proud.

LindaGHill_jjj-2016When I started writing this, I was in quite a reflective space, thinking about that school essay, what I wrote because it still sticks in my mind, and how life has turned out for me, but I’ll save that for another time.

January 5th is my first “proper” day back at work:  I’m not thrilled.  I’d rather be blogging and working on a couple of ideas I have, and which I hope will open up another income stream.  So, in the spirit of Linda G Hill’s post for today, I’ve also decided to jot down a list of things to do or achieve during this year:

The list

  1. Continue with at least one post on Fiona’s Favourites a week and, possibly, a bit more often if I have time and inclination.  This could include participating in more challenges or prompts:  like this one.
  2. Spend more time in (and on) the garden, sipping good wine.
    GardenWineCollage2015
  3. Take more, better photographs, not necessarily sipping good wine, although that might come later.RivSonEndMtMay2015
  4. Spend less time in the office (even though I do have a great view from my desk), sipping good wine.ViewOfficeDoorNov2015
  5. Sell my property in Johannesburg and then celebrating with a local MCC (aka good wine).LordsMCCBucketDec2015
  6. Turn two ideas into reality and, hopefully, income, sipping good wine.McGJan2015

The last is deliberately cryptic – I don’t want to jinx things!  I’ll keep you posted….

© Fiona’s Favourites 2016

Mice and Mince Pies

December 25th, 2015 dawned much as every summer day does, but two things were different.  First, it was Christmas day, so there was no alarm clock, and there was a great deal to do.  Some of it, including the baking of Christmas mince pies and shortbread, should have happened on Christmas Eve.

Secondly, Pearli had suddenly grown up;  she seemed to have become quite sedate; hunting less and not getting into so much trouble, spending much of her day curled up, asleep – like a proper cat.

Pearli_Bed_BW_Dec2015
Pearli doing what “proper” cats do

Or so we thought.

As we were having our morning tea before facing the day, a thundercat hurtled up the stairs.  It definitely wasn’t Melon.  It had to be Pearli. The “footprints” told us so.  Sure enough, Pearli presented us with a Christmas present – the first catch for a very long time (as far as we are aware) – a real, live mouse.  Needless to say, having to deal with that levitated us into the final Christmas dinner preparations.

Most of this is a doddle:  same procedure as last every year for Fred and the shortbread, sans the rosemary this time.

Finally, the mince pies.

Mince pies

For the uninitiated, these are sweet tarts with a spiced fruit mince that is made from, predominantly raisins, currents and fruit peel.  They are traditional Christmas confectionary and the chain stores are filled with them.  Talk radio stations have phone-in shows and debate which store’s is better.  Seriously.

The first effort and was more than thirty years ago.  I was living in Johannesburg and had nowhere to go, and had been invited by a lovely family to join them for Christmas lunch.  Not one to go empty handed, I offered to bring the mince pies.

Clearly my penchant for eschewing the store-bought is ingrained because I decided to make them.  It didn’t enter my head to do a practice run.  Anyhow, in making this decision, I also decided that I would not use my mother’s pastry recipe:  her pastry was made with lard and I always thought that it was too thick.  Particularly for dainty mince pies.  For the life of me, I cannot recall what pastry recipe I used (It may have been a hot water one), but I do recall that I rolled it very thin and I  ended up making what became known as the “Million Mince Pies”.  Notwithstanding the fact that they were eaten and enjoyed, for the following year or so, I was enjoined to limit the number!  Too much of a good thing, and all that jazz….

So, although there are recipes for fruit mince, it is something I do not make.  Why?  Well, some of it has to do with getting my act together and getting things done ahead of time, and when it comes to Christmas, I’m not very good at that.  The planning starts on 15 December, if I’m lucky, but usually nearer 18th or 20th and the mince needs to be made at least two weeks in advance.  Anyway, from a jar, it’s more than acceptable and I can “doctor” it to make it my “own”, without breaking the bank. More importantly, the individual ingredients are jolly (!) expensive and it would be false economy to make it.

Or so I thought:  Mr Mac, one of the village foodies, a former Michelin-rated restaurant owner and hotelier (in Scotland) and a Scot, has just lent me a fabulous recipe book, written by a friend of his.  It contains a great mincemeat recipe.  I am now resolved to make fruit mince this winter, in preparation for next Christmas, as well as some other fabulous Sweet Things….

Back to the mince pies:  unlike when I make quiche for supper, or to order, at Christmas, I make pastry.

I have no idea where I got this recipe, but reading it, it must have been part of a promotion in a magazine, and for a particular brand of flour.

MincePieRecipe2015

The first time I used this recipe, it was not for Christmas, but for a lunch party, part of which involved my “creating” recipes for friend’s aloe-based food range.

aloe tart 2

The jam tart was a hit, particularly the pastry.  When Christmas came along that year, I decided to use the recipe for the mince pies, but instead of making one large tart, I decided to do individual ones as well.  That was about six years ago, and I still do it.    MincePies2015

Tips, not in the recipe, or in my handwritten notes:

  • butter (I never use margarine*);  the oil is canola
  • use a food processor and if you have one that has different sized bowls, use the medium sized one
  • instead of rolling the pastry for the individual pies, break off and press bits of the pastry into the baking tin (a shallow muffin tin);  I do this for the larger tart, too.  This pastry, because of the quantity of fat/oil, is difficult to work with, especially in our summer heat, so “finger pressing” is easier than rolling and much less frustrating….
  • put the pastry that is reserved for the “lids” into the deep freeze while you’re lining the pie dish or pan.  This will make it easier to grate and work with when you’re ready

As I mentioned, I use store-bought fruit mince, and to this, I have added the apple suggested in this recipe, but I’ve also left it out:  it wasn’t missed.  What I always add is brandy – a good glug – and probably more than the 25ml the recipe talks about.  I used to add a sprinkling of granulated sugar, but I’ve stopped doing that – it makes little if any difference.

A White Christmas

So, mince pies and shortbread done, it was time to “dress” the table.  This year, it was a “white” Christmas with touches of red, including in the starter**, and the closest we get to a white Christmas in Africa (and, I gather, in most of the world, this year).

ChristmasTable2015

The meal concluded with the usual shortbread and mince pies.  One of our guests, amazed that I make my own, declared that the mince pies were better than those from one of the premium stores.  It has to be the pastry!

And about that mouse –

We have no idea what happened to Pearli’s gift:  by the time we had propelled ourselves out of the bedroom, both Pearli and mouse had disappeared.

*of course if, for dietary reasons, you can’t use dairy, margarine is more than acceptable
**those salad days are still to come…

© Fiona’s Favourites 2016

2015 – not sorry to see you go!

In my day job, this has been a challenging year.  I’m not sorry to see the back of it. Some of my best times, other than with The Husband, friends and in my kitchen, have been behind the camera.  Here are some random shots from the beginning of the year.  They don’t fit into any of the themes that I am brewing.

Frans’s veldskoene from which he liberated his toes when he arrived at a friend’s birthday party in January.

FransShoesJan2015

Other than this picture, taken with  my Samsung Galaxy Trend phone, all the others were taken with my Samsung 35mm bridge camera.

A February feather left by a Guinea fowl visitor to our garden.

GuineaFeather_Feb2015

A long, welcoming table at the place where we often stop for a bite on our way home from Cape Town.

TheBarnTable2_Mar2015

A closer look.

TheBarnTable_1_Mar2015

Vinny the Thug Pug who welcomes us and guards all those who enter Oxford Cottage.

VinnyTheThugPug_Mar2015

Although these photos don’t fit into any of my themes, they do fit into Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge

cees-odd-ball-banner

Postscript:  for those interested in my “blogging journey”:

I have been astounded in the increase in the number of views in the last year.  Although this blog only went live in January 2014, the growth this year has been phenomenal.

2014_2015_comparison_31Dec2015

The visitors come from more than 100 countries and it is to my fellow South Africans that I say the biggest thank you:

Countries_31Dec2015

This growth in my blog is in no small measure attributable to the Clarrie Bags (i.e. “old” girls from the school I attended) who shared the post I wrote following our 35th school reunion.  This is reflected in the six most-read pieces this calendar year, so to them, a particular thank you:

The School                                                          1,405

Going back to school:  a growing up               269

Sizzling sisters                                                         88

Wacky Wine Weekend:  a sedate version         72

Sunny son-days                                                       63

Pairing flavours (and wine)                                 60

Waste not, want not – II                                        53

Before finally wishing you well for 2016, to those of you who let me know that you read Fiona’s Favourites by commenting, either on the blog, by e-mail or the social media, your taking the time to do this is appreciated more than you will ever know.

May 2016 bring you and yours all you wish for.  My wish for you all is love, peace and lots of happy laughter.

And a last word:

Yesterday’s post should not have happened.  Suffice it to say that I was fiddling about not knowing precisely what I was doing and that notification went out.  I am sorry if it annoyed anyone!

© Fiona’s Favourites 2015

Pots and a poet

Just a week ago, our village was bursting at the seams.   It was the second McGregor Poetry Festival which brings many people and amazing poets to our village – including a colleague and his wife.  She and I had worked together nearly thirty years ago and we hadn’t seen each other since those days – and when we had all lived and worked in Johannesburg.  Lots of water under various bridges, children born and grown up, and we bump into each other in McGregor!  So lovely to see them both and to have an all too brief catch-up…

I will confess:  Poetry – she and I are not friends.  When I read English, the novel was my thing.  Still is.  That said, I do enjoy the poetry of song lyrics.  The Doors, Queen, Bob Dylan, Bright Blue, Freshlyground, Dire Straits, and Leonard Cohen, are just some of the artists whose songs and lyrics speak to me in magical ways, and have, for years. If I had taught, as was part of my original life plan, I know that I would have used popular and contemporary music as a mechanism of piquing my charges’ interest in poetry.

As often happens in life, timing could not have been worse for me:  a project on which I had been working for nearly a year was approaching its end or, more to the point, its end had come and gone, but the work just seemed never ending.  The light at the end of the tunnel really had been the proverbial oncoming train.

And then, what relief when my colleague and I had our daily check-in, and she said,  “We’re there!”

All that remained was to tie up the last loose ends.

And that was the day that before the poetry festival began.

And our closeout conversation ended, literally, as the lovely Lara Kirsten, arrived.

She stayed in our tiny guest room while she discovered McGregor and charmed audiences with her words and music.

GuestRoom2014

So, why “pots”, you’re asking.  Well, I had promised a large quantity of ratatouille for a street food stall, and a bit like my project, the ratatouille grew out of its pot (twice) and I ended up with a kitchen that was wall to wall pots and receptacles.  Over two days, I must have chopped about fifty onions because I also (madly) made a batch of onion marmalade, but more of that another time…

PoetFest2014Market

Happily, as with so many things, it all works out in the end:  the ratatouille made its way to right place at the right time and, more importantly, McGregor’s second Poetry Festival was a success.

I hope that Lara will be back to share some more of her music and poetry at the 2015 festival.

Lara_CaritasHere, Lara performs in Caritas which is in the beautiful Temenos gardens.

Finally, here are two of Lara’s poems, one in Afrikaans and the other in English.

klou en wag

ek lê in die bed met
‘n pen vasgeklem in my hand
en ‘n papier gekrater onder my elmboog
wagtend dat my drome heel moontlik
die pen sal vat en
die nag se poësie sal
neerskryf in die hoop dat
die griffels die weg sal wys
en die rigting sal skryf binne-in
die stuk wit wat die kaart
van my kreatiewe lewe sal uitlê

miskien
sal die swart rots
blink
in die reën en son
en tekens
sal die toekoms
helder in my oë
flikker

ek het geen probleem om te wag

pen in hand

‘n stille krag

 

we are too weighed down by our ideas and our minds

we are too weighed down by our ideas
our minds
our wants
our ideals
our habits and our fears
our shames and our sighs

our minds are heavy
look how we all walk with our heads
trailing like heavy baggage behind us
they just can not keep upright anymore
all these orthopaedic concerns are because of
our heavy heads
i am surprised they have not exploded yet
thanks to all our smartphones, laptops and tablets
they carry a part of the great heaviness
of too many ideas
what would we have done if we could not steer
the overflow into these metal brains?
maybe because we have these metal brains
our fleshy brains just keep on churning the thinking
the computing
the inventing
continual stimulation between inorganic and organic matter

fuck this!
arch out our backs
lift our heads
and shake all the heaviness out
be light and empty
feel the air move between our ribs
our diaphragms
and every cell
feel our feet
losing touch with the earth
start to rise
and float to the lightness of the clouds

Read more of Lara’s poetry, and listen to her music on her blog

Places and spaces – I

Tiny as McGregor is, it is a place of places and amazing spaces.  One such place with amazing spaces is Temenos.

Choose a path – literal or figurative

in the sun, through the fowers
in the sun, through the flowers
shady path
down a shady path
under a flowery bower
under a flowery bower

– to take you to beautiful spaces

a spiral of contemplation
a spiral of contemplation
a glade in the wood
a glade in the wood
of still water
of still water
of meditation
of meditation
of cool quiet
of cool quiet

or with views –

through
through
across
across

out to the village

out to the village

Here today, gone tomorrow!

Here today, gone tomorrow just about epitomises last week.

Summer arrived with a vengeance on Monday and the thermometer hit 38 degrees Celsius (just over 100 Fahrenheit).  Overnight, a little swarm of bees took residence in our Cotoneaster.  We were delighted because a couple of months ago, a local beekeeper had put an empty hive on our plot and we’ve been waiting patiently for a swarm to occupy it.  Bee man said to leave them alone.  “They’ve already decided where they’re going….”

LittleBeeSwarm

Wednesday dawned:  cool and blustery and got progressively more blustery and cold.  By evening it was pouring with rain.  After Monday’s heat, this was all a bit much, so I persuaded The Husband to light the fire; I know he thought I was being extra dramatic.  Wonderful man:  he indulged me.

Firepot 1

When Pearli thundered home, bang-crash-wallop through the cat flap, she was very glad to discover a lovely warm fire.  And the sofa, with its pristine throw, was just the place to dry off.  Of course.

TigerPearlOct2014

I had planned omelettes and salad for supper, but with the cold, I thought that something more warming and stew-like would be in order.  But what?  Whatever I made would have to have egg or cheese as the protein, and whatever else was in the kitchen, garden, or the fridge.  Thursday is shopping day, so the proverbial pantry was rather bare.

Fortunately, and don’t ask me why, we had a large number of tomatoes and in the fridge I found courgette, sweet bell peppers and mushrooms (these we would have had in the omelette, anyway).  In the garden there is fennel, oregano and parsley, all of which go well with both eggs and tomatoes.  Fortunately we both like egg and tomato.  My dad didn’t, and nor do a few other people I know…

So, in the wok, I made a tomato stew with sautéd onions and garlic to which I added chopped peppers, mushrooms and courgette, with some fennel.  I let all of that brew for a little while – not too long so that the vegetables keep some crunch.  When it was all bubbling nicely, with a good bit of liquid, I made four “wells” in the stew, and broke an egg into each.  I put the lid on the wok and let the eggs poach in the tomato stew until they were ready.

tomato_egg_stew_platedBoy, did we need that warm stew.  It was a cold night and we woke to snow on Thursday morning – summer was gone – and our little swarm of bees had huddled themselves into a tiny little ball.

20141009_081605

And by Sunday, winter had retreated.  And our swarm of bees, still here yesterday, was gone.  Our empty hive is still empty.

© Fiona’s Favourites 2014

When spring flew in!

Jack and Jill
Jack and Jill, our Lesser African Swallows

Late last summer, a pair of African swallows, built a nest under the eaves of our front veranda.  At the time, we thought it a bit late in the season for a brood, but a brood they had.  Many a late afternoon, we watched as they went about the very frustrating job of getting their babies to bed.  Much like humans, these swallow parents had to deal with the exuberance of a new-found, fun skill:  the children did not want to go to bed – flying about was such fun!

Winter arrived.  Jack and Jill left and I missed their cheerful “chissick!” greeting as they swooped along the veranda past the office window several times a day.  They would be back, I knew, to add to the nest that they had so carefully built.

Along with winter, came the need for work on our roof.  Large men with even larger boots stomped about on the veranda roof – Jack and Jill’s house came tumbling down!  I was horrified!  There, in smithereens, was their hard work, and lying amongst them, the most beautiful warm bed that they had made with, among other things, guinea fowl and pigeon feathers.

Jack and Jill's feather bed - top (l) and bottom (r)
A feather bed – top (l) and bottom (r), beautifully curved to fit into the base of the nest

Then, about six weeks ago, much to our delight, as we were contemplating something or other in the office,  we heard a flutter and something swooped past the window, under the eaves.  Then another.  And then a “chissick!”

Jack and Jill were back!  For a few days they were much in evidence, flying about, and generally having a ball…

After a cold snap and some rain, we noticed that they had started to work on the old nest.  The weather cleared and went from winter to summer in a single day, and there was no more mud.  Work stopped.

A couple of weeks passed and we had another cold snap and rain – lots of mud about again.  Jack and Jill began rebuilding in earnest, and this is what they have built over the last 10 days, from the ruins of their old home.

Jack and Jill's big build

Yesterday and today, they have been literally feathering their nest, so I suppose we will soon see less of Jill as she sits on her eggs in the nest under the eaves of our veranda.

Under_the_eaves20141005

 

If I am able to get good pictures of the babies, I’ll update this post and re-blog….

© Fiona’s Favourites 2014

Sweet peas…Tiger’s chilled minted pea soup

This year we grew peas.

So what?

PeasOrbsThere is something almost magical about peas that you pick and shell – to pop into your mouth – in the pea patch.  Little can beat the flavour of those little round orbs as they pop with their unique sweetness.

Peas are “up there” as my favourite vegetable.  I remember my mother freezing them – by the ton.  It’s amazing that there were any to freeze:  my sister and I used to sneak out of the house, through the courtyard, past the plum tree, over the lawn to the vegetable garden, where we would fill our faces with the sweetest peas in living memory.  First the peas, and then the shells.

I always have peas in the deep freeze;  besides anything, they’re a great standby.  Every year, I want to grow peas, and have tried, from time to time, over the years.  Tom was never that enthusiastic:  “You have to have lots of plants to have enough to eat,” he said.

Pea_patch2014We hadn’t tried growing peas in McGregor;  somehow this this year, I prevailed and we planted peas.  Just one packet.  The germination rate could have been better, but any way, we must have had about ten plants – more than we’d ever had.

I was delighted.  Even more so, when I discovered that the profusion of pods were filled with tiny peas.  It was all I could do to wait until they were plump enough to pluck and eat!

I suppose that as my favourite vegetable, peas are also a non-negotiable accompaniment of some the meals that are, for me, the very comforting:  egg and chips;  fish cakes….  I also add them to risotto (right at the end), to salads, raw, and always cook them with a large sprig of mint from the garden.  Oh, and the water you drain off those peas, is a wonderful addition to gravy and/or vegetable stock.

Peas are at their best when young, but when you grow your own, it’s inevitable that you miss some and if you’re lucky to have a good crop, you can’t eat them all at their sweetest.  So it was for us, last Monday, when we had our last picking.  Some of the peas were, as my Mum would have said, “rather elderly!”  I looked at PeasInPodsthis lot and thought that they’d not be good to freeze, let alone eat as a side dish.

It had been a hot day, and then I remembered Tiger’s chilled pea and mint soup that we had so enjoyed. I thought that I’d give it a bash.  No recipe, you understand, just Fiona on the fly.  So I flung the peas in a pot, along with some vegetable stock and cooked the up lot.  Not for too long, but longer than if we had been eating them “as is”.  Then I gave that lot a whizz with an immersion blender, and added some fresh mint, gave it another whizz and then put it into the fridge.  As I recall, Tiger’s soup was smooth and refreshing, and although creamy, not heavy.  So, as I didn’t have any cream, I added a little mascarpone.  With hind sight, I should have strained the soup, or cooked the mint in with the peas – fresh mint is a bit fibrous, so it doesn’t give one as smooth a puree as one would like, nor the visual impact, for that matter.  All of that said, the soup was more than edible.

Little did we know, as we enjoyed our Tiger-inspired chilled mint and pea soup, that on Sunday (yesterday), we would have been celebrating a lovely man, and a life well lived.  He, with his beloved Jill and four-legged Denzil, welcomed us to the village, before we were resident here.  They, and he, are integral to not just our earliest memories of McGregor, but the fabric of our community.  I shall make this soup again and it shall, forever, in our home, be known as Tiger’s chilled, minted pea soup.

Tiger's Chilled Minted Pea Soup

Post script:  Tiger was the co-owner and chef at Green Gables at the Old Mill, two doors away from us.  A visit to Green Gables is a non-negotiable part of any visit to our village.  Jill, you and your family are much in our thoughts.

Veld Kos

My basic cooking and food choices are largely influenced by my English and Scottish background and living in South Africa.  Over the last 20 or so years, as ethnic foods have become both more fashionable and available, it has become easier to experiment with flavours and different ingredients.  My mother cooked “English” food and through a woman who looked after our house, and then later at boarding school, I was introduced to samp (dried, de-husked corn) and beans, and morogo (wild greens/spinach).  Patience and I would go into the vegetable garden and pick “weeds” and turnip leaves which were then added to the warm umgqusho (as she called it in isiXhosa), or to the mealie rice or pap (porridge).  These memories of the warm, bubbling pot, the vegetable garden, and the stories my Dad used to tell about the family allotment in Glasgow, are the roots of my interest in edible plants.  An opportunity to learn about veld kos – edible indigenous plants – was not one to be missed.

Last weekend we joined friends at Loubie Rusch‘s talk on Veld Kos (field food) at the Pink Geranium.  The Pink Geranium is a wonderful nursery not far from Stellenbosch (but more of that, another time).  Loubie is a landscaper by profession, and passionate about the potential of indigenous plants for food and food security.  There was a great deal to absorb, and I have come home to look at some of the plants in our garden with a new, and adult eye.

20140922_135237
Oxalis corniculata
spekboom
Portulacaria afra

Why, “adult” eye?  Well, as a child, we ate the flowers and leaves of a plant that appeared every spring, Oxalis corniculata, also known as wild sorrel, suurings in Afrikaans (suur is sour in Afrikaans) – it does taste a lot like sorrel.  These are yellow ones in our garden, but the ones that we ate growing up in Grahamstown, were purple.  I now know that the entire plant – flowers, leaves, stems and corm – is edible, but that it must be treated with respect because of the oxalic acid content (spinach and rhubarb also contain oxalic acid).  We used to nibble Elephant’s Food – the fleshy, sour leaves of the Portulacaria afra or spekboom which hedged the property on which we lived, and past which I used to walked to primary school;  in those dry, drought years, this hedge was the greenest thing in sight.

Tulbaghia collage Sept 2014
Tulbaghia

Before this weekend, I had also partaken of wild garlic (Tulbagia) .  In addition to having a strong (very) garlic smell and flavour and, like the conventional garlic, it is a great companion plant for roses and an essential addition to home-made insect repellents.  Again, we have the purple variety in the garden –  Loubie introduced me to the white ones.

Loubie used leaves from the first three of these plants to make the most delicious tzatziki-type dip, which we tasted with carrot sticks.  The sweetness of the carrots was beautifully juxtaposed with the sourness of the yoghurt, oxalis and spekboom.

She also introduced us to dune spinach, which she stir-fried with some oyster mushrooms.  She had made a pesto, which which she combined with cherry tomatoes, but for the life of me, I couldn’t tell you (because I can’t remember) what went into it!  It all looked and tasted delicious.

Loubie Rush sharing her passion for Veld Kos at the Pink Geranium
Loubie Rusch sharing her passion for Veld Kos at the Pink Geranium

I have come home inspired, and in addition to the first three plants I discussed, all of which grow abundantly in our garden, I will be experimenting with two other plants that grow there, in equal profusion:  the wild rosemary, Eriocephalus africanus (Kapokbos in Afrikaans), and the sour fig, Carpobrotus edulis, a member of the Mesembryanthem family, and which has a long and rich culinary history in the Western Cape.

Wild rosemary (L) and conventional rosemary
Eriocephalus africanus (L) and conventional rosemary

The wild rosemary grows in the same, neglected corner of our plot as the nasturtiums of which I spoke a while ago, and has a more peppery but less strong aroma than the conventional rosemary that I already use quite a lot.   As you see, the leaves are similar.

Coming back to the sour figs – a friend in Cape Town was very excited when she saw sour figs growing in our garden.  I knew about sour fig jam and dried sour figs, but I hadn’t known what they tasted like, or how to go about using them, green and/or fresh, in a salad, let alone in a stir fry.  We have loads of these in our garden because they are a great, drought resistant ground cover that helps to stabilise banks, so I will soon be experimenting with them.

Sour fig collage Sept 2014
Carpobrotus edulis

The plants I’ve mentioned are just some of the plants Loubie told us about.  Wild asparagus we also have in the garden – I’ve been pulling it out – now I shall be giving it TLC.   I’ll keep you posted about this new aspect of my culinary journey…

Source: http://www.plantzafrica.com/