Leeky vegetables with virus rant on the side

15 April 2020 ~ Fiona ~ 2 Comments

February left in a flurry. So much so, that when I potted my bits for the market on Friday, I set the sell by date for March, not April. I only realised as I was getting myself together on Saturday morning – after having posted this photo to Instagram!

Oops! Sell by date can’t be in the past…

February passed me by because I had a mission: finishing a course in teaching English as a foreign language. My goal was to have it done by the end of the month and I happily spent my birthday doing the final assessment. The results and certificate arrived at the beginning of what, so far, is a mad March. Not least because of the late autumn heat – not unusual – but extreme. Last week we had a few consecutive days of +38°C (+100°F) which makes for lovely balmy evenings. They are also good for bad sleep, marauding mosquitoes and mandatory showers under the open sky.

Add to all of that, a little Steem drama and the ridiculous, rising, rampant panic around the novel Corona virus, Covid-19. The world seems to have gone mad. As I write, I realise that The Sandbag House seems like a place of peace and sanity. Where, of course, The Cat’s Mother’s conversations with Gandalf are a major contributor to sanity….

A pretty nasty virus

On the issue of the virus, I give you fair warning, I’ve been itching to have a rant.

Sales of Corona beer have plummeted? Just because it’s called “corona”?

Shunning people because they’re Chinese?

Shunning people because they have had, or might have, the virus?

Panic buying of medical masks and hand sanitiser and food?

Yes, Covid-19 is nasty. And it’s killing people. So does influenza – about 1% of those diagnosed. These are usually patients at risk. In other words, people in a particular age profile and/or with other conditions which make them vulnerable to opportunistic infections. No, the authorities can’t actually confirm the mortality rate from Covid-19. For a whole range of reasons including the ~~possiblity~~ likelihood that mild cases may never have entered the health system and been reported.

Take a breath, Fiona….

If one listens to the messages, they all say that the virus spreads in the same way as influenza: droplets as opposed to in the air. Wearing medical masks doesn’t protect healthy people – one doesn’t inhale the pretty, round sun-shaped virus that’s part of the same family as the flu and common cold. The virus can only survive in damp, relatively moist conditions and not in perpetuity. More to the point, it can be washed away by following the traditional, tried and tested hygiene practice of properly washing one’s hands with old fashioned soap and water. Oh, and don’t touch your eyes, nose and mouth if you think you’re in an area where there could be an infected person.

Whenever my Mum (whose 93rd birthday would have been as I started this rant), had a cold, she would reject her children’s good night kisses and cuddles in favour of their not catching that virus. The success rate was higher when she had the cold or flu. The Mum just does what comes naturally: wipes the snotty nose, comforts and cuddles.

So

Back to my point: hygeine is fact five of on the CDC’s list – on the bottom right of the page. Don’t they always say that prevention, which is not difficult, is better than cure?

Ok, I don’t want to make light of a disease that comes from an unknown source and which presents with symptoms from mild to severe, and from people have died died.

But

What I have read – from the appropriate sources, and shared here – leaves me asking, why the panic and paranoia?

Rant over

Getting to the leeky point

For a while, I’ve been working on a number of vegetarian recipes, including some that are entirely plant-based. I’ll return to those in time. This one has been “in development” for a while, and I’ve shared some of the progress via Instagram. At last, I think I have made it often enough to ~~have the confidence~~ to keep my promise to share the recipe for leek timbales. I also have to add that the dedicated carnivore I married, has declared leek timbales sufficiently edible that he looks forward to this main course with relish.

Leek Timbales

This dish, I admit, emerged from leftovers from a bunch of meals. I’m not good at letting food that’s edible go to waste. Some of our favourite meals are made with leftovers. So much so, that when we plan the week’s meals, we have these dishes in mind. Yes, I do that planning thing – I’ll tell you how – if you want – another time.

In this instance, the bunch of leeks lurking in the fridge was originally destined for a Sunday supper soup. No reservations meant I didn’t make the soup. There was also a gap in the weekly menu. After more ferreting in the fridge, I found the remains of a batch of onion sauce. In our house, this is a standard accompaniment to roast lamb along with mint sauce. You might suggest that this dish is a quiche in a different guise. I’ll admit that it was influenced by a herbed leek quiche recipe in one of my early vegetarian cookery books. However, given that the rise in gluten intolerance and that carbohydrates are not “in”, I tried something different.

I was very happy with what I came up with. The Husband and I decided that I should try to replicate the dish.

But

I hadn’t really paid attention. So, as they say, practice makes perfect and over the next few months I made them again. And again. Sometimes with leftover bits and at other times from scratch. Each time I made them from scratch I set out to do it “properly”… That meant measuring, writing down, recording what worked, what didn’t.

I really do make notes the old fashioned way: pencil and paper

With, of course, the odd photograph. Of the process.

Now, I’ve successfully made these leek timbales – from scratch – often enough to be confident with the ingredients, quantities and method. We’ve eaten them as a summer supper as well as in winter. They work very well with a side salad (green and/or carrot and olive) as well as with roasted vegetables – especially sweet bell peppers (capsicums).

It also occurs to me that to make this dish vegan, one could make it with vegan cheese and/or tofu. I guess I need to experiment with that. Let’s see.

So, if this dish rocks your socks, download it here. Do let me know how it turns out for you.

In the meantime, wash your hands, and don’t go invading anyone’s space – unless you must – and be healthy.

Until next time, be well
Fiona
The Sandbag House
McGregor, South Africa

Photo: Selma

Post Script

I’m participating in blogpal @tracyork’s April challenge of sharing a post every day during April – on the Hive blockchain. I succeeded last year – on Steemit from which the new blockchain “hived off”…
It seems a good way to constructively use the time during a compulsory lock down, right? For more about this initiative, please check out Traci’s post.

If you’d also like to both join the challenge and post from the WordPress platform to the Hive blockchain, sign up here.
I’m still blogging on Steem and more recently share my burbling on Uptrennd.

Comforting Creamy Parsley Fish Pie

10 April 2020 ~ Fiona ~ 3 Comments

Today we started day fifteen of what is now at least a thirty-five day lock down. I want to be sure of my facts…. Although the prospect of having to stay at home, is less than thrilling, I do think that looking at the evidence, it’s the right thing to do. I will write more about why, and what I think about it, in time.

When our enforced stay at home was mooted, I began thinking about inexpensive, relatively easy meals to cook. ~~Covid~~ Comfort food. Food that can be made (and served) with frozen ingredients and which are relatively easy to make. Notice I didn’t say quick. Flavourful food, in my opinion is rarely quick – it takes time for flavours to develop. They are also meals that can be frozen and, I admit, I was also thinking about people I know, who might need a square meal and don’t have the means to cook this type of food.

A saucy affair

This creamy fish pie continues the somewhat saucy theme of a couple of days ago: it’s a Bechamel sauce that pulls it all together. This was a meal that rarely appeared on our dinner table when I was a child. My father disliked fish and loathed parsely sauce. The former, a function of his wartime childhood. The latter, I now realise, was because he wasn’t fond of warm, milky things.

I love white sauce and one of my favourite winter meals is fish with peas and parsely sauce.

Pan fried fish with herbs, parsley sauce and peas.

One dish fish pie

This creamy fish pie doesn’t include the peas but combines the fish with the parsley sauce topped with creamy mash and baked in the oven to make a pot pie.

The recipe, which you can download here, is for as many as eight people, but is easily adjusted.

I did say it wasn’t difficult. What I will say is that it takes a lot of dishes and must be done in stages. Make it ahead of time and/or freeze it for another time.

First, poach the seasoned hake, cod or any white fish in milk. Like for any bechamel sauce, enhance flavour by adding a bay leaf, peppercorns, a clove of garlic and chunks of a carrot. When the fish is cooked, drain off the liquid and set aside. Flake the fish and discard bones and skin.

While the fish is cooking, prepare the potatoes for the topping. I like my mash rustic. I like the look and flavour of the bits of skin, so I don’t peel the potatoes.

Using the reserved poaching liquid, make a bechamel sauce and then add a bunch (and I mean a bunch) of finely chopped parsley. I like a lot of parsley – and if you think you’re short of leaves, chop the stems and add them, too.

Once you have the three components ready, either combine the fish with the sauce, or place the fish into an oven proof dish and pour the sauce over it. Finally, top with the mash.

At this point, the pie can be refrigerated or frozen. To reheat, dot the top with butter and bake in a moderate oven until browned and bubbling.

Individual portions

I do make individual portions: it freezes well. Potatoes, however, need a little TLC: make sure that the pie is properly heated through and brown on top so that the potato is not watery.

Add a little decadence

If you have some frozen seafood – shrimp and mussels – in the deep freeze, add a little luxury to this simple supper. Do this either at the end of the poaching – perhaps with a little white wine – or when you assemble the pie to bake.

Serve with seasonal vegetables. Or peas. For me, it’s always peas. With mint from the garden.

The flavours of warmth and comfort. On one plate.

Until next time, be well
Fiona
The Sandbag House
McGregor, South Africa

Photo: Selma

Post script

I’m participating in blogpal @tracyork’s April challenge of sharing a post every day during April – on the Hive blockchain. I succeeded last year – on Steemit from which the new blockchain “hived off”… and… it’s fortunate that today I had something to get off my chest! And…
It seems a good way to constructively use the time during a compulsory lock down, right? For more about this initiative, please check out Traci’s post.

If you’d also like to both join the challenge and post from the WordPress platform to the Hive blockchain, sign up here.

Lockdown survivors’ guide

7 April 202025 August 2021 ~ Fiona ~ 2 Comments

In the last two weeks I have written two long and very serious pieces about how people and the world are responding to the Covid-19 pandemic. I will write another – to keep a promise. The first was ahead of the lock down.

Half way there?

South Africa is halfway through the period initially set for the country’s lock down. It’s not impossible that we might be forced to stay at home for longer than the 21 days that take us to just after Easter.

Last week, I reflected on how learning to live alone (again) and working from home can be applied to an enforced stay at home.

Ahead of our shutdown and all over the world, it seems, people’s brains fell out of their heads. I know mine did. I went shopping to discover no chicken to be had and when I got home, I added another packet of cornflour to the two (!) already there, among other crazy things…

Really?

Anyhow, as I said, we’re half way through our compulsory stay at home and the weather’s turning.

It occurred to me, now that we’re settling into a rhythm, to follow-up to my survivor’s guide to load shedding with a kinda, only half, tongue-in-cheek survivor’s guide to an enforced stay at home.

Fiona’s lock down survival guide

Pray the Internet never goes down.
Save toilet paper.
Ration the wine. *
Cut your own hair. If you must. But don’t do it in anger.
Stop smoking when the ciggies run out. *
Every time you see an item is nearly finished, put it on the shopping list – just in case you lose your brain ~~again~~ when you shop.
Save toilet paper.
Learn to make natural yeast (see the last but one point).
Send your friends virtual flowers.
Share a virtual toast – only one sip – with the guys and gals who are independently locked down.
Learn to cook without wine.
Hold a virtual dinner party: sharing pictures of one’s food is a sure fire way that they visit (or stay away) after lock down is lifted.
Try not to kill mother. Uncle Richie died. Auntie Doris is still alive.
Save toilet paper.

* In South Africa, the regulations prohibit the sale of alcohol and tobacco.

Until next time, be well
Fiona
The Sandbag House
McGregor, South Africa

Photo: Selma

Post script

This is my cheeky entry into this month’s @yourtop3 contest – now on Hive.
And before I get into more trouble, here is the list of my actual three must-haves while staying at home: Internet access, toilet paper, and, of course, wine! No explanations required….
Read more about this month’s contest here
I’m participating in blogpal @tracyork’s April challenge of sharing a post every day during April – on the Hive blockchain. I succeeded last year – on Steemit from which the new blockchain “hived off”… and…
It seems a good way to constructively use the time during a compulsory lock down, right? For more about this initiative, please check out Traci’s post.

If you’d also like to both join the challenge and post from the WordPress platform to the Hive blockchain, sign up here.

Variations on a theme: mac & cheese three ways

5 April 20206 April 2020 ~ Fiona ~ 7 Comments

Not only is the weather turning, but because we’re locked in thanks to Covid-19, we’re looking for comfort food. I shared these ideas way back in 2014. I was reminded about them the other day, when there was a “debate” on the merits (or otherwise) of macaroni cheese. There’s an even split between love and hate.

Funnily enough, this dish rarely appeared on our family table – my father did not like white sauces – a foundation of any good macaroni cheese. The Husband, when I first met him, viewed macaroni cheese with great suspicion: his mother’s version, he says, was bullet proof! It was that solid.

Variations on a theme

Over the years, I have made various versions, partly because it’s an easy and warming meal to make. Because one can have too much of a good thing, I have at least three variations on this universal favourite. None of them actually with macaroni except, perhaps the last, now that I make fresh pasta.

Not negotiable: Béchamel

All three of the variations have two things in common – pasta, obviously, and a Béchamel (white) sauce. The choice of pasta is personal and depends on the variation. The secret to a really flavourful Béchamel sauce is to infuse the milk with a bay leaf, carrot, clove of garlic and a couple of peppercorns before making the sauce.

Depending on the quantity I need, take 250 – 500ml of milk, and add the bits I’ve mentioned. Blast it in the microwave for one to two minutes and then leave it to infuse for a while.

In case you need a reminder – white sauce is butter, melted, to which you add flour to make a roux; then add the warm milk and cook to the consistency you want. Finally, add the cheese and other ingredients.

My Mac & Cheese Epiphany at the Brooklyn Diner, NYC

A few years ago, on a rainy Sunday in January, when I was in New York City for a conference, colleagues and I were cold and hungry after a day of site-seeing. We needed supper and happened on the Brooklyn Diner, off Times Square. As we sat waiting for supper, I remember watching the Nasdaq ticker and the constantly rising US debt through the window.

Although a lone South African among a group of Aussies, we had one thing in common: we hated the cold. Two of us, at least, just wanted the kind of food we could make at home. There it was: Mac & Cheese!

When it arrived, it wasn’t what we had expected: it didn’t look very appetising. Tagliatelle smothered in the palest of creamy sauces, slopped on the plate. It’s not the baked Mac & Cheese that appears on the current menu. While they say you eat with your eyes, this was just the most delicious, macaroni cheese I had tasted in years – creamy, cheesy and tangy. Just what the doctor ordered. I make my own version and there are two secrets: fresh, egg-rich pasta and the sauce that is made with whole milk, butter and at least three cheeses – and hot English Mustard.

Through trial and error, I have worked out that the best cheeses are cottage cheese, and a really mature, tangy cheddar. Finish of with some Parmesan or really mature, hard, sharp Boerenkaas to grate over the top. Full cream yoghurt in addition to milk, it adds a certain depth and piquancy to the flavour. In terms of quantities, that’s a matter of taste, and how tangy you like the sauce. I also help it along with the addition of a quarter to a half teaspoon of hot English mustard powder.

Saucy

Make sure that the sauce is not too thick – you want it to coat the tagliatelle. This is a saucy meal that is not dry. Cook the pasta, drain it, and serve, generously coated in the rich, tangy, creamy cheese sauce.

Enjoy it either with or without a salad.

Broccoli Mac & Cheese

This is the ~~healthier~~ variation of macaroni cheese. I make it with a mild cheddar cheese sauce. Before I made my own pasta, I used penne. The variation, here, is the broccoli and the blue cheese. Break the broccoli (or broccolini in this case) into florets/steam and then toss with the pasta and cheese sauce.

Pile into a large dish so that people can help themselves or into individual bowls. Either way, top with blue cheese.

Fiona’s “famous” baked mac & cheese*

This is my “original” recipe “created” before I happened on the Brooklyn Diner or invented Broccoli & Blue. Of course, it includes white sauce and either farfalatte (bow ties), penne or macaroni, depending on what’s in the cupboard. As with the other two, it takes a good quantity of cheese sauce. What makes this different is that I usually include sautéed onion and sweet bell peppers (red and green), chopped bacon (optional), a little garlic and some fresh oreganum. If I have onions in the garden, I skip the onion at this stage and use the green leaves and add them later.

So, to assemble this, cook the pasta according to the manufacturer’s instructions, drain and return to the pot; add the sautéed vegetables (and the fresh onion leaves if using) and then stir in the cheese sauce. Place all of this into a large oven proof dish. If you like, top with a layer of sliced tomatoes followed by a generous layer of cheese. End with a sprinkling of Parmesan which will give the top a lovely crunch. Place under the grill until golden brown and serve!

*The “famous” bit is because we have had spur-of-the-moment invitations to supper and taken this along and it turned into the hit of the evening….

If you’d like these ideas and they work for you, buy me a coffee?

Until next time, be well
Fiona
The Sandbag House
McGregor, South Africa

Photo: Selma

Post script

I’m participating in blogpal @tracyork’s April challenge of sharing a post every day during April – on the Hive blockchain. I succeeded last year – on Steemit from which the new blockchain “hived off”… and…
It seems a good way to constructively use the time during a compulsory lock down, right? For more about this initiative, please check out Traci’s post.

If you’d also like to both join the challenge and post from the WordPress platform to the Hive blockchain, sign up here.

Jammin’ with chillies: A reprise

4 April 202017 April 2020 ~ Fiona ~ 2 Comments

Chop. Chop. Chop.

It’s a Sunday and it’s day two, no three, of South Africa’s 21 day lock down. We’re all obliged to stay at home so that we neither share or acquire the now not-so-novel virus that virus that’s causing Covid-19.

Then I have a brainwave: certain folk have been suggesting that I have the odd (probably because they’d be very odd) video with me doing cooking stuff. Why not?

First challenge: no videographer. The Husband, to whom this has been mentioned, is ultra reluctant. Necessity is the mother of invention, right?

Phone suitably propped (I thought) and turned on.

Take 1

Chop. Chop. Chop.

Check the footage. I clearly have a lot to learn about angles. Besides getting just about the whole of me in, for any gal, is shot from under the jowls is less than flattering.

Delete.

Take 2

Rearrange camera position. Not just a prop but also a stay to stop it from falling on its face. Although, if this doesn’t work, it’ll be I who’s on my face…

Chop. Chop. Chop. Chop.

Footage not too bad. The sound, well, I thought I’d leave it. That’s the usual Sunday sound – the local independent talk station. Doing music. Because, of course, it’s the weekend. Truth be told, I’ve not learned yet how to mute the sound. Next time. Assuming there is one.

Because it was a Sunday, and I’ve got time to kill (who hasn’t when one is in lock down and there’s no dinner guests a-comin’?) I thought I’d post it on Facebook. My personal page. Not Instagram. Then I get a message from a school friend. I’m not saying old; just that we left school forty years ago.

Would you mind sharing the recipe? If you don’t want to, I’ll understand.

Of course, it’s on the blog. I think. I’m not sure because of the snafu with my site.

Cutting a long story short, it wasn’t on my blog. As of now, it is. Again.

With a story, of course.

Like a few things I make, my chilli jam is based on a recipe that I’ve had for years, courtesy of Jenny Morris’s newsletter, printed out, filed and consequently spared the devastation of a crashed hard drive. It’s worked hard.

As you can see, I’ve ramped up (and ramped up again) the quantities (with help from The Husband). I’ve used our own chillies and those Farmer Judy grows in her organic farm garden around the corner. I’ve bought chillies to make the jam. I’ve used chillies with a range of hues; fresh and semi dried.

The recipe still works. I’ve been making it for more years than I’ve had a stall at the McGregor market. However, it’s from making it to sell that I’ve made significant adaptations to the recipe and my approach.

What I’ve adapted/learned

I use the quantity of chillies that is available as the basis of working out the other quantities:
sugar: the same quantity as the chillies and onions + 1/8 (by weight)
water: none
Because I am allergic (really!) to chillies, I will work with a maximum of 500g of chillies. That’s about 1 kg of chopping. Including the onions.
The original recipe calls for lemon juice; use commercial juice. That way I know exactly how much juice I am adding. Although I love and would prefer to use fresh lemons, the juice yield is a little too hit and miss.
The “heat” varies depending on the type of chilli that one uses. Some are relatively mild while other are really hot. The Husband prefers the jam made with the “Hot F*ckers” and each year, trawls the local nursery for seedlings of said chillies. He doesn’t mind showering upside down.

Reprise

I first shared this recipe in May 2016. At the time I said that it was

… because I’m a bit gobsmacked at the demand and lastly, because without even tasting it, I’m getting requests for this chilli jam – from people not even in South Africa, let alone McGregor. I can’t export it – that’s a mission on which I don’t plan embarking. As for licencing, suggested, tongue in cheek by boarding school and varsity pal from years ago, well, I’d rather share the recipe.

It’s still a surprise when I get requests via locals, for this product. One, last year, happened on a Friday evening. He wasn’t returning to Sweden without two jars of chilli jam.

Some people tell me they use this chilli jam as an accompaniment with everything, from Camembert, cottage cheese to chaceuterie.

I add it to a Spanish/Mexican omelettes. Add to yoghurt with lime juice, salt & pepper with a little olive oil to make a drizzle for flatbreads or a brinjal and rocket salad.

If you’d like the recipe, it’s available here and consider buying me a coffee?

Until next time, be well
Fiona
The Sandbag House
McGregor, South Africa

Photo: Selma

Post script

I’m participating in blogpal @tracyork’s April challenge of sharing a post every day during April – on the Hive blockchain. I succeeded last year – on Steemit from which the new blockchain “hived off”…I’m playing catch-up. Today, two posts. Let’s see what tomorrow holds.
Seems a good way to constructively use the time during a compulsory lock down, right? For more about this initiative, please check out Traci’s post.

If you’d also like to both join the challenge and post from the WordPress platform to the Hive blockchain, sign up here.

Humming with Hummus

1 April 20207 April 2020 ~ Fiona ~ Leave a comment

May 2016 was an interesting and busy month. Not just in what was then my day job, but also doing something that was a first for me. During March, one Saturday morning, minding my stall, as is my wont, Treasurer of a local committee passed by and made small talk with The Husband. Probably about the job he’d recently done for them. When the niceties were done, he turned to me.

“We’d like you to do the snacks for our AGM.”

Er, what?

“We’d like you to do the snacks for our AGM.”

I thought I’d learned when to say no. Evidently not, because I heard something completely different coming out of my mouth:

“I’m sure I can, just let me know the date. If it doesn’t clash with The Day Job…”

Then panic set in: how many, what type of food, budget, how to cost, how many of each, et cetera, et cetera? Of course, there were the carnivores and vegetarians to consider; neither could contaminate the other. Treasurer and his wife are longstanding vegetarians.

Questions answered, Treasurer was advised of what could be done within the budget. The Chairperson and committee were duly consulted, budget adjusted, numbers confirmed and D-day approached.

Knowing full well that I couldn’t do it all (sometimes (ha!) I have a sense of my own limits), I enlisted the help of another vendor. And I also roped in my market pal, Ms Thyme who is, hands down, a much better cook and chef than I (actually, she catered for my last significant birthday). The rest I set about doing. Here’s a “to-do” list that was up in the kitchen which reflects a bit of the “menu”:

And this is what it all looked like, all packed up and ready to go. Hummus and crudites ready to assemble on site.

Good thing The Husband insisted on a “grown up” sedan with a boot big enough to party in!

So, there was a platter for carnivores, complete with mini meatballs, scotch eggs and devils on horseback (the latter two, my creations).

And one for the lacto-ovo vegetarians, including some gluten free jobs (aka mini frittata – my own recipe), with spanokapita and samoosas.

The table, set, ready and waiting – with the other bits, all duly labelled and flagged to ensure ~~no contamination~~ confusion.

That cheese and nut stack was inspired by a lack of space and Ms Thyme who also lent me the cake stands. What would one do, if one couldn’t phone a friend?

The response was gratifying and, it seems, my first catering job was a success.

Phew!

Hummus

Not long before I was commissioned to do that job, Farmer Judy asked if I made hummus. Well, of course I hadn’t, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. So I did. It was a hit, and I started selling it at the market. It’s now hummus is a standard stock item.

It took me a while to perfect the recipe which include – most of the time – homegrown garlic and parsley as well as home made tahini. That recipe is on the list.

If you’d like to download a copy of the recipe, it’s here.

Until next time, be well
Fiona
The Sandbag House
McGregor, South Africa

Photo: Selma

Post script

The original post was first published on WordPress blog in June 2016. I am in the process of transitioning and updating those old posts on to my self-hosted site. If you want to know why….
At the same time, I’m participating in blogpal @tracyork’s April challenge of sharing a post every day during April – on the Hive blockchain. I succeeded last year – on Steemit from which the new blockchain “hived off”…
Seems a good way to constructively use the time during a compulsory lock down, right? For more about this initiative, please check out Traci’s post.

If you’d also like to both join the challenge and post from the WordPress platform to the Hive blockchain, sign up here.

Bags of Provençe

7 February 20176 June 2021 ~ Fiona ~ Leave a comment

After the fiery end to November, and before the aspirant grand wizard‘s arrival, December started off relatively gently. We love the long, balmy evenings and spectacular sunsets of summer. Even if they are viewed over the ravages of the fire and the somewhat charred vegetable patch.

A chef was among the kind souls who helped to fight the fire that afternoon, and very tongue-in-cheek, suggested a new trend: smoked vegetables. Particularly courgettes (zucchini). Funnily enough, we had been told by a restauranteur in Paternoster that he was going to be experimenting with exactly that in the next while. More of the fabulous food we ate during that trip, another time, perhaps.

Returning to the courgettes: the moment you turn your back, they transmogrify from delicate, green fingerlings into giants that can be well-nigh unmanageable.

The charred remains of one of the courgette plants and the delicate little courgette – often hidden by the gorgeous golden flowers.

My mother loved giant courgettes – she called them marrows: she would halve pip, and cut into chunks and boil them to death. I am my father’s daughter: he really didn’t enjoy the watery mush that made its way to the supper table. Not even lashings of butter helped. I rarely boil vegetables.

Local product: Herbes de Provençe

Not long after the fire, I was given a bag of Herbes de Provençe. Grown locally, the herb mixture is packed in handmade bags, cleverly made from a combination of (also locally) screen printed hessian and tartan, evoking their origins in McGregor.

The brainchild of Lavender Lady, a McGregorite, whose idea it is to make the traditional flavours of Provençe available in South Africa, and with the longer term vision of creating sustainable jobs in the village.

I grow herbs and use them, fresh, in virtually everything, particularly during summer when they are abundant. The aroma that wafted out of that bag of dry leaves and flowers was amazing. I couldn’t work out the different scents. How does one use them?

“Just add a pinch to whatever you’re cooking,” Lavender Lady said.

Okay…..

So back to the not-so-baby marrows and not being one for waste, they had to be eaten. Flavourless, marrows are, and full of water, so I figured that the best way to deal with them was roasting. Not confident that just this would deal with the deficit in flavour, the Herbes de Provençe had their first “outing”. The result has, happily, become the current go-to way of dealing with the overgrown courgette.

Roast Marrows with Herbes de Provençe

Halve the marrows, remove the pips and discard. Cut the marrow into sizes that suit you. I’ve done them in large chunks like in the pictures above, and also in smaller, bite-sized pieces.

Herbes de Provençe roast marrows with pecorino

Sprinkle a baking tray with olive oil and place the marrows on it, skin-side down. Drizzle with a little more olive oil and dot with butter and then sprinkle Herbes de Provençe over the marrow flesh.

Bake in a moderate oven for about 20 minutes and then turn the marrows over and return to the oven for another 20 or so minutes or until they are cooked to your liking.

Remove them from the oven and turn them over and sprinkle with a sharp, hard cheese like Parmesan or Pecorino, and serve warm.

McGregor Herbes de Provençe

This particular blend of herbs is interesting. There is a number of different combinations for Herbes de Provençe; it was only in the 1970’s that “Herbes de Provençe” became commercially available. The introduction of lavender was specifically to suit the North American market. They use these herbe fresh in Provençe, and the include savoury, marjoram, rosemary, thyme, origanum and sometimes mint, all of which grow wild in the Mediterranean. (As I discovered when I lost myself walking down from Castillo de Bellver back to Palma when I was in Mallorca. But that’s another story.)

Lavender Lady’s blend, McGregor Herbes de Provençe, doesn’t have the savoury or the mint, but it does include basil, parsley, fennel seeds and lavender blossom.

Herb Butter

It also makes a fabulous herb butter which works well on bread, potatoes and braai mielies (barbequed corn) – or anything else that goes well with a herb butter.

Chicken, grilled with a Herbes de Provençe rub or basting is easy and delicious. Now I’m planning stews and hotpots with Herbes de Provençe when the weather gets cooler. Of course, this herb blend would make the perfect bouquet garni for classic French dishes such as Beef Bourguignon and Provençale inspired chicken.

Those experiments will wait for the longer, cold evenings of winter which suddenly become a little more palatable.

Until next time, be well

Fiona
The Sandbag House
McGregor, South Africa

Post script

If this post might seem familiar, it’s because I’m doing two things:
- re-vamping old recipes. As I do this, I plan to add them in a file format that you can download and print. If you download recipes, buy me a coffee. Or better yet, a glass of wine….?
- and “re-capturing” nearly two years’ worth of posts.

I blog to the Hive blockchain using a number of decentralised appplications. From WordPress, I use the Exxp WordPress plugin. If this rocks your socks, click here or on on the image below to sign up.

Scotch Easter Eggs in Africa

4 April 2016 ~ Fiona ~ Leave a comment

Two weekends ago, being Easter and a long weekend, the market regulars took it upon themselves to do something a wee bit different for the Saturday Market. We couldn’t do a night market like we had, the Friday before Christmas: for many Good Friday remains sacred and the market takes place on church property next to the hall, in the shadow of the church spire.

Church_viewfromSKhouse_2015 — A sunset view of the spire

So, when the notion was flighted, the challenge was two-fold. What could I do that was different, and which didn’t need “instant” cooking? I don’t have the accoutrements for that. It needed to be something that could be eaten for breakfast and/or taken home. Besides, there are other people that do bacon and eggs, and the philosophy of our little market is mostly collegial rather than competitive. It’s too small, and the custom too limited to kill each other with competition.

My approach to an offering is based on both my own leanings towards meat-free and understanding that there are increasing numbers of people who don’t do meat and/or gluten. What could I do that involved eggs (it was going to be Easter, after all) and no meat, preferably eaten with the minimum of cutlery? It couldn’t be quiche or frittata – for the same reason as it couldn’t be bacon and egg…

I experimented with spinach, egg and tomato.

The theory was good: egg on a nest of spinach and onion, baked in the oven to be served with a tomato relish.

The results shared among friends on the social media got mixed reviews. The Husband’s: it was imminently edible but not on the run, let alone cold.

There was a torrent of unrepeatable, hilarious repartee on my personal Facebook page in response to this picture. Instagram followers were much more polite.

The vegetarian option was abandoned. Sometimes I do know when I’m defeated.

I settled for a single offering and one which harks back to my childhood and yet another occasion where I chose a dish based on its name. I don’t recall which birthday it was, but remembering where we lived the time, I must have been around about this age:

Claire_Fi_Nicky_1974 — My sister and I (at the back), 1974, in Bots, Grahamstown

Even then, I used to spend time browsing through Mum’s cookery books and one recipe that appealed to me was Scotch Eggs. It was in this book that now forms an important part of my collection of recipe books.

As luck would have it, Mr J’s mama had presented us with a clutch of little eggs from her fowl family, and my dummy run was a great success.

This time, the response on both Facebook and Instagram was enthusiastic, to say the least.

Decision made, plans were set in place and all that had to be done was the work. A production line was called for. Not difficult at all:

Scotch Eggs

As you see, and as usual, I made the recipe my own by adding chopped fennel and parsley to the meat; I used two variants of a local Worcester Sauce instead of a commercially available one.

Other tips

To ramp up the recipe to make a large quantity (I did 16), I used medium eggs and worked on 105 to 110g of mince per egg. Weighing out the mince helps with managing portion control and also keeps the final product uniform. It was a lot less hassle than I thought it would be. Actually, it made things a lot easier.

For perfect hard-boiled, “peelable” eggs, the first thing to remember is that in this instance, fresh is not best.The Husband, as a former poultry farmer who before he retired, was in large scale free range egg production, really knows his eggs: an egg’s flavour is best developed about three days after it’s laid. A fresh egg is impossible to peel. Because eggs have a really long shelf life and because aesthetically you want a perfect egg, you can comfortably buy your eggs 7 to 10 days before you need them.

To hard-boil a large quantity of eggs that have no blue ring around the yolk, place room temperature eggs into a pot of cold water. Bring to the boil. Boil for 6 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to cool. For a medium egg, boil for 4 minutes. All of this with the caveat that altitude does affect the length of cooking to get the perfect product….

It seems that the eggs, served with a choice of homemade tomato chutney or curried beans*, were a hit: sold out and requests for more.

Also on offer at my Easter table was the pickled fish, a South African tradition.

*Recipe to come in the next while.

Zoodle Doodles

7 March 2016 ~ Fiona ~ Leave a comment

It’s the time of year when Sannie Boervrou‘s generosity knows no bounds. Call them what you will, courgettes, zucchini and (not-so-baby) baby marrows, I’ve been making pickles, salad and this year, zoodles.

I had long been wanting a spiraliser, and having done a bit of homework, came to the conclusion that I wouldn’t find one that didn’t have some or other drawback. So, given my tiny kitchen and dearth of storage space for large kitchen gadgets, the key criterion was size. The price was a bonus because I found it on a sale.

Home I came, with what looks like a giant, double-sided pencil sharpener. One side makes spiral shavings and the other, which I discovered the hard way, has vicious teeth, makes spaghetti-like bits of vegetables.

I did post a salad with strips of courgette, last year, but since then, I’ve not just experimented with the spiraliser, but also with the flavours. Particularly, the vinaigrette. Because the zoodles have a delicate (some would say bland) flavour. Consequently, for my salads, rather than using a balsamic vinegar which could be too overpowering, I use a local red wine vinegar made in a balsamic style, and which I often use – good flavour without the heaviness of the traditional balsamic. In addition to lettuce and forgoing the cucumber (for obvious reasons), my standard inclusion is slivers of red onion.

So, a relatively plain salad, that is a great accompaniment to virtually any meal is really easy. Depending on the meal, add different fresh herbs for a complimentary or contrasting flavour profile. Here I used coriander and basil and garnished with a bit of red endive.

Equally, one can add, particularly for colour, and I often do, tomatoes and olives.

What I also enjoyed, and which worked much better than the slivers of courgette, was adding zoodles to pasta with pesto. I have mentioned (probably ad nauseum), that I make my own pasta. Anyhow, sometimes, at the end of a hard day, I really just want to do a meal with the least possible fuss. Served, if possible out of just one dish. Zoodles and pasta allow one to do just that.

This, simple warm pasta salad consisted of roasted cherry tomatoes, lightly sauteed mushrooms and sweet bell peppers that were served on top of pasta and zoodles through which I had stirred basil pesto.

For those who want to avoid the carbs, zoodles make a super substitute for rice, potatoes and, of course pasta. I’ve also been experimenting with rosti, but have a way to go to perfecting them….

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Windfalls and Wondrous Words

Peach Chutney - recipe - Fiona's Favourites

8 February 20169 January 2023 ~ Fiona ~ Leave a comment

I have mentioned before that words fascinate me. With my recent foray into making chutney, when The Husband and I were discussing what should go on the label of Jan Boer’s special bottle, he asked if I was going to use the Afrikaans word for chutney, blatjang. What ultimately went on the label is not important, but it did set me wondering. Both English and Dutch, and therefore also Afrikaans, are Indo-European languages, so the roots of some words are common. Often, words are similar, like “day” and “dag”; “light” and “lig”; and “lemon” which, in Afrikaans is “suurlemoen” (direct translation: sour lemon).

I discovered, nearly 20 years ago, on a trip to Mallorca, that I could get by, in the Old City of Palma, with less than rudimentary Spanish and Afrikaans to buy spices, vegetables and fruit: “pomelo” is the Afrikaans word for grapefruit. I was very proud of myself when, as a thank you to my host, I was able to successfully shop for the necessary spices and other bits and bobs to make a traditional South African supper of bobotie, boereboontjies and geelrys with melktert for dessert*.

There were many Spanish words I could understand when I saw them written. For example, furniture shops: their names included “meubles” which is the same spelling as the Afrikaans word for furniture.

So where did “blatjang” come from?

Before I had satisfied my curiosity, and ending our week in the usual way, at the local pub, Jan Boer (yes, he of apricot fame), sent us home with another tray piled with fruit. This time, yellow cling peaches.

Windfalls. They really were. In every sense.

This summer, the weather has been badly out of kilter: very little wind in November and December, but some howling gales last month. With equally unseasonally high temperatures, the farmers haven’t been thrilled and when the harvest is underway, and the wind howls, it can wreak havoc with ripening fruit.

Too Scottish to look a gift-horse in the mouth (with no apologies for the mixed metaphors), something had to be done. Some were stewed: summer comfort food. Retro peaches and custard.

The peaches provided The Husband with something sweet while I was away…

The rest were mostly made into chutney – in some ways a very different process from apricot chutney because of the nature of the fruit: peaches are furry; their pips are not easy to liberate and I had decided two other things: a recipe that didn’t necessitate a visit to the shops meant no dried fruit. Secondly, it should not have the same spice profile as the apricot chutney.

“Un-furring” the peaches

The first task was to try to “un-fur” the peaches. Standard instructions for doing this is very similar to those for skinning tomatoes with the added step of blanching them in iced water after their boiling plunge.

Well, as my old Dad would have said, that was a good game, played slow: even with The Husband’s help, those skins were not very obliging. It wasn’t only the pips that clung to those peaches! Contrary to all the “destructions” contained on websites and in recipe books, the skins did not just slip off.

After cogitating on this, I came to the conclusion that if the skin clung to that extent, the chutney wouldn’t be contaminated by awful bits of stringy epidermal tissue, and the worst that could happen was that the peach bits would have a bit of extra texture.

Skinning abandoned, the peaches were “segmented” and added to the pot with the other ingredients.

And cooked. And cooked.

Peach chutney

For this batch:

2kg peaches, pipped (only half were peeled)
800g sugar
800ml wine vinegar (combination of red and mostly white because that’s what I had)
35g fresh ginger, chopped
6 onions (white), halved and thinly sliced
12 cardamom pods, lightly cracked
6 jalapeño chillies, thinly sliced

Put all the ingredients in a large, non-reactive pot (stainless steel or enamel) over a medium heat. Stir until the sugar has dissolved and simmer, stirring from time to time until the peaches are soft and translucent. This will take an hour to an hour and a half. After about half of the time, keep an eye on it and stir more frequently so that the chutney doesn’t catch and burn. Pot in sterilised jars.

In addition to the different flavour profile from the apricot chutney, peach chutney is chunkier and sweeter which is offset by the chillies.

Oh, and If you’d like a printable version of the recipe, you can download it here. When you do, buy me a coffee?

Back to the words

Chutney bottled, I returned to my word search. It turns out that in 19th century South Africa, “blatjang” (pronounced blut–chung) had two meanings: a condiment and a specific dish (sadly, none of my research revealed what that specific dish might have been unless it was merely an idiomatic expression). The condiment blatjang is described as a relish made from dried chillies and dried apricots, stewed in vinegar.

Regardless of these two meanings, the sources all agree that the word crept into the Dutch and therefore, also Afrikaans, via Malaysia and Indonesia.

As I worked through the various sources, thinking about the spice trade and the rise (or fall) of the Dutch and English as colonial powers, it all fell into place. The Dutch East India Company centred on Indonesia and had a presence in Cape Town to supply passing ships with essential vittles. It all makes sense, especially with the strong influence in the Cape from the Malay slaves who not only brought their cuisine, but also their language to the Cape, profoundly influencing the development of Afrikaans from the original Dutch.

Chutney, on the other hand, is an Anglicisation of a Hindi word: “chatni”, which means “to lick”, and which referred to side dishes made of fruit. These, of course, included spices. The word also seems to have emerged in English in the 19th century and as the English so often do, they made these dishes their own by “pickling” the relishes with vinegar, and calling them “chutney”.

In Afrikaans, blatjang is now accepted as what we now understand in English as chutney, which is as I discovered when I was looking for a recipe for the apricot chutney, is a relish made with fruit, spices and vinegar – with or without chillies and/or onions.

Similarly, with the British Empire, the Indian Raj, and curry having become, in the minds of some, England’s national dish, makes the etymology of chutney absurdly obvious.

If you’re interested

Here is a list of some of the websites I visited in this wondrous word search.

http://sesquiotic.wordpress.com/2011/04/22/blatjang/
http://www.etymonline.com
http://archiver.rootsweb.ancestry.com
http://www.dsae.co.za

* bobotie is a spiced mince with an egg custard topping
boereboontjies – literal translation is “farmer’s beans” and consists of a stew of tomatoes, onion and green beans and, traditionally with a couple of shin bones thrown in. Among the party that evening were vegetarians, so the meat was omitted
geelrys or yellow rice is cooked with turmeric, cinnamon and sultanas
melktert – a baked custard tart

Until next time, be well
Fiona
The Sandbag House
McGregor, South Africa

Post script
If this post might seem familiar, it’s because I’m doing two things:

re-vamping old recipes. As I do this, I am adding them in a file format that you can download and print. If you download recipes, buy me a coffee. Or better yet, a glass of wine….?
and “re-capturing” nearly two years’ worth of posts.

I blog to the Hive blockchain using a number of decentralised applications.

- From WordPress, I use the Exxp WordPress plugin. If this rocks your socks, click here or on on the image below to sign up.

- Join Hive using this link and then join us in the Silver Bloggers’ community by clicking on the logo.

- I also share my ~~occasional~~ Instagram posts to the crypto blockchain using the new, and really nifty phone app, Dapplr. On your phone, click here or on the icon, and give it a go.