tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-250598812024-03-07T12:27:37.696+02:00Food & FamilyLife on a South African farm - guavas, chocolate, kids and recipes!Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.comBlogger570125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-89128623854429981142016-06-19T16:06:00.000+02:002016-06-19T17:43:54.943+02:00Midwinter Festival<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It’s almost midwinter and the rain that has been lashing down on our tin roof all day is a welcome relief in a country where you spend the first half of winter worrying about the rains not having started properly yet, where dams are still alarmingly empty after the summer drought, where we are all too dependent on a borehole, and a falling water table is a potential disaster. So rain = good.<br />
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Except that earlier this week, when a drenching cold front was forecast for yesterday, the date of this year’s winter festival, we were a little bit ungrateful. Luckily the weather angels moved it back a bit; so yesterday the bonfire building, the making of lanterns, the filling of brown paper bags with sand for candles were done under grey blustery skies, the strong wind worrying cautious elders; should we be lighting a big bonfire with forceful gusts ready to carry sparks all over the place?<br />
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But the angels had this taken care of too. We decided to keep going with the usual plans, bonfire, braai fire, tables and food carried outside, and once it was dark and we were ready to carry out our lanterns, the wind eased; not completely but enough for it to be fun sitting outside around a bonfire, so that kids with colds could stay out long enough for sparklers and soups, so that we could be thoroughly smoked, and even catch a glimpse of the almost full moon appearing behind scudding clouds.<br />
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Our kids are all teens now, but there are still several younger kids to take up the torch of eager excitement and anticipation, to run around in the dark and get a thrill from sparklers and legalised pyromania.<br />
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A new highlight this year was the beautiful origami phoenix, made by a 10-year-old friend especially for the festival, to be set ablaze ceremoniously.<br />
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It was so meticulously folded with such intricate detail that we were all loathe to see it go up in smoke, but Leo was determined that that was what he’d made it for.<br />
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It proved harder to set alight than expected.. he and his sister tried a sparkler applied to its tail, which started to catch and then fizzled out. So he took it over to the bonfire on its stick and dunked it right in to the flames, after which it blazed in spectacular style.<br />
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(No-one has been out to the fire remains yet today to see if a phoenix egg has been left among the ashes... but I guess it would be a paper origami egg and so would be now sodden in the rain!)<br />
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The original inspiration for our festival, conceived 14 years ago when we’d just moved out from London with two young children, was to indulge in all the winter highlights that otherwise fall in summer here in the southern hemisphere. So the bonfire and sparklers from the UKs Guy Fawkes night, the mulled wine and lanterns from English Christmases and any other fire themed extravaganzas that inspired anyone along the way. The festivals have evolved to be an occasion to gather with friends, to give thanks for the gifts of the season, to connect with the flow of the year and each other. And to feast, run about madly and catch up with friends.<br />
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When the kids were younger and several families of friends slept over, they’d be out by the embers of the bonfire at first light next morning, making new mini fires from any still glowing coals. This year we woke to the rain and the damper of high school exams tomorrow, with studying to be done. But there are still the joys of a lunch of extravagant leftovers, a fire to bit lit in the fireplace and maybe once studying is done a movie snuggled on the sofa.<br />
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Last year's <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.co.za/2015/07/our-winter-festival-over-years.html" target="_blank">winter festival</a>.<br />
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<br />Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-84772202473360713242016-04-20T12:57:00.001+02:002016-04-20T13:03:19.019+02:00Sourdough Bread Baking Class<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcXmST2txu_0m3FoD_jTiUjCCCDCfqCFTCC4jphycf3Z5xN20vBke2ryn00SK6W7THKXTDEACFGnAWKZEBvb2Lb-Jh7psdxVm6RSXFE-X5Lepu1WvRteO-SNVLGAZE0ryiTjHM/s1600/IMG_20160419_135710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcXmST2txu_0m3FoD_jTiUjCCCDCfqCFTCC4jphycf3Z5xN20vBke2ryn00SK6W7THKXTDEACFGnAWKZEBvb2Lb-Jh7psdxVm6RSXFE-X5Lepu1WvRteO-SNVLGAZE0ryiTjHM/s320/IMG_20160419_135710.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>My first loaf of sourdough baked at home</i></span></td></tr>
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Baking bread is something I do several times a week to keep us in school sandwiches. It’s usually white bread nowadays because the kids prefer it, sometimes wholewheat to salve my health conscience. A long time ago it used to be a rye mix and I even developed my own <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.co.za/2006/07/crumbs.html" target="_blank">recipe</a> that the Camphill baker of that day adopted, but in all these years I’ve only once tried baking sourdough. It was rejected by the family wholesale and I never had the will to keep baking against the tide of public opinion. Even though I like sourdough bread and all I’ve read about it says that the sourdough process makes gluten and wheat that much more digestible and nutritious.<br />
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Until a couple of weeks ago, when Camphill Village decided they would do two <a href="http://www.camphill.org.za/news/camphill-classes" target="_blank">classes</a> at their market, one of which was in the bakery learning about sourdough. <a href="http://www.camphill.org.za/" target="_blank">Camphill Village</a> is a residential farm community for adults with intellectual disabilities just down the road from us, I write for their website and social media and go to most markets, so it was the perfect opportunity to expand my bread baking skills.<br />
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Originally the classes were planned as short one hour introductions, but from the minute the six of us walked into the bakery it was clear that Max was an enthusiastic teacher, full of stories that would take more than an hour to share. Plus we were going to bake our own loaves.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Max describing how sourdough works</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Meeting the two sourdough starters</i></span></td></tr>
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We were introduced to the 14 year old starter that has been powering Camphill bread for all this time, nicknamed The Legend, which sits bubbling gently to itself in a cool place in between bakings. It’s fed with flour and water each time some is used and just keeps on regenerating and gaining in strength and maturity. There was a younger 4 year old starter too, much more feisty and bubbly.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSVB8qCshgEForEYKJKTe4UMtGsabeRTz5C2vsLxgzE37kVhuY_fRjNt6aHlSyhVfVtnvuMIyv9Zb61-wFHyNFcFJxmh2hD5h3ddroVcqjZTOC_T0_CQbiJxUkYAvdlnrNlUkm/s1600/sourdough-starter-camphill+bakery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSVB8qCshgEForEYKJKTe4UMtGsabeRTz5C2vsLxgzE37kVhuY_fRjNt6aHlSyhVfVtnvuMIyv9Zb61-wFHyNFcFJxmh2hD5h3ddroVcqjZTOC_T0_CQbiJxUkYAvdlnrNlUkm/s400/sourdough-starter-camphill+bakery.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Left: The feisty younger starter Right: the more mature Legend</i></span></td></tr>
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Max explained the whole process with lots of illustrative stories – you can’t rush sourdough baking, to get the best flavour the sourdough enzymes and the flour need time to get together and get to know each other in a relaxed way. It’s clear that sourdough is more of an intuitive process than a set of rules and Max was teaching us to feel our way with it. We smelled the starters, and tasted the first stage mixture which had been mellowing overnight to be ready for us.<br />
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Camphill bake in large quantities with an industrial mixer, so we were working in proportions rather than quantities per loaf. The first stage mixture went first into the huge bowl, then the flour and enough salt to offset the tang of the sourdough starter (don’t let the salt get too close to the starter, mix it in with the flour, Max advised, as they fight to see who’s boss) Then add the water and the mixing begins. Seven minutes at most is what it needs, but we stop and check it after 2 minutes to see if it’s the right consistency, adding flour as we’d been too generous with the water (as a rule it’s better not to add flour after the mixing has started, to rather go easy on the water, but it’s not the end of the world if you get it wrong).<br />
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Another simple rule of thumb from Max: if the weather is hot enough to wear short sleeves use cold water, if you need to wear long sleeves use warm water.<br />
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Once the dough was mixed it was time to leave it to rest. We were hungry by now and dived into the selection of bakery treats put out for us to taste: excellent hot cross buns, rusks and biscuits. Our brains reeling with information overload, we piled back out to the market to shop at the stalls, and I found that Peter had kept me a lovely edition of a Georgette Heyer at his <a href="http://www.camphill.org.za/news/camphill-village-book-shop" target="_blank">second-hand book stall</a>, always some bargains to find there.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Learning how to shape a free-form loaf</i></span></td></tr>
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Back in the bakery it was time to shape our loaves. Something new I learned is never to pull off hunks of dough at this stage, but rather to cut pieces off, as the dough has already been worked enough and it doesn’t like overstretching. A floury surface and gently folding the dough over to firm out air bubbles round and round, using palms rather than fingers. Sealing the join, turning it over and easing into a good shape for a free form loaf baked on a tray.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Not my loaf, the cuts here are deep enough</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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The hardest bit for me was slashing into the dough with a sharp knife, to let air out and give the loaf room to expand. My cuts were too tentative, as I discovered after baking when my crust has risen sky-high at one end with a huge bubble of air underneath.<br />
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The next stage was proving on the trays in the steamy proving cabinet. And finally the trays were wheeled across to the industrial oven and baked.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlL6MZi9h8TrtVK_tlR0F5zpTj1wof0QYNW4FXnxsBMJBJnutUk_J45t9sA6qjZ5EsUaciJP4gTKN1XzVTF9chyfefk65lUHkqyMibdRuHEqero8Vh9LD1WzPpEht7XJJ3TVa8/s1600/bakery-class-camphill5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlL6MZi9h8TrtVK_tlR0F5zpTj1wof0QYNW4FXnxsBMJBJnutUk_J45t9sA6qjZ5EsUaciJP4gTKN1XzVTF9chyfefk65lUHkqyMibdRuHEqero8Vh9LD1WzPpEht7XJJ3TVa8/s400/bakery-class-camphill5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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We had another break to relax in the market at this stage and re-assembled just as the market was closing, when our loaves came out of the oven and we all hurried to identify our individual masterpieces.<br />
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These we got to take home, and even better, a reason in itself to attend the course, we were each given 500g of the Legend starter to take home with us so that we could carry on baking under our own steam.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Bubbly starter to take home</i></span></td></tr>
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Previously I’d thought that the upkeep of a sourdough starter was a bit of a chore. In a lovely novel by Sarah-Kate Lynch By Bread Alone, which hums with the tang of a sourdough starter, practically another character in its own right, the protagonist feeds her starter religiously every day and bakes a loaf each morning. But Max assured us it could keep quite happily in the fridge even for months in between bakings.<br />
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I baked my first loaf at home yesterday, very tentative, trying to remember everything from the class, looking at the quantity notes I’d jotted down, but not too sure if I’d got it right. It was a coolish day and all the risings took longer than they had at the bakery, but the end result wasn’t at all bad. I’d got the proportion of salt wrong and put in too much, but it’s still edible and the texture is just right, so I’m feeling like I’m getting somewhere. The family ate it and, apart from it being rather salty, liked it. Next loaf coming soon with half the salt!<br />
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So thanks to Max and Camphill Village!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1JE3YCB94DEKK-9GBpUWyGUHvalPsB4cpflnF6iDmtXE9S4YrfqUE_KazVDbBdCv1s-b3AWj6OPFD1Zc9iegAV2Du8yDcKLjTgnLPQMRAPYL-pL1F3K1DJ4YFx-tCuTzfiU7e/s1600/20160419_134221_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1JE3YCB94DEKK-9GBpUWyGUHvalPsB4cpflnF6iDmtXE9S4YrfqUE_KazVDbBdCv1s-b3AWj6OPFD1Zc9iegAV2Du8yDcKLjTgnLPQMRAPYL-pL1F3K1DJ4YFx-tCuTzfiU7e/s640/20160419_134221_001.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Here you can see all the things that I got wrong: big air bubble, split side, uneven browning but it's not bad for first try!</i></span></td></tr>
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If you are local to Cape Town and are interested, there will be a repeat of the bread baking class, as well as the class in the cosmetics workshop about essentials oils, at the next <a href="http://www.camphill.org.za/market" target="_blank">market</a> on 1st May. You do need to book as there are limited places. Details <a href="http://www.camphill.org.za/news/camphill-classes" target="_blank">here </a><br />
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<i>Full disclosure - I do the social media for Camphill Village and was invited on the course free of charge, but there was no requirement to carry on baking at home!</i>Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-88368407310721912072016-03-09T12:46:00.001+02:002016-03-09T12:46:28.598+02:00Matric Nostalgia and a New Website<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhecSf_oy8bMrvC68sPJOvgbTBE73NIbMmnHFtyxL6d3LBYtKza10YwjjuylcrwG1L24oqMYSNm62ByEzl1s0LTV_rQ1sZJa9rw25JNdirGC8-Fm-Biuxw9M4lA6IrE0dFHR-1F/s1600/Harry-cowboy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhecSf_oy8bMrvC68sPJOvgbTBE73NIbMmnHFtyxL6d3LBYtKza10YwjjuylcrwG1L24oqMYSNm62ByEzl1s0LTV_rQ1sZJa9rw25JNdirGC8-Fm-Biuxw9M4lA6IrE0dFHR-1F/s1600/Harry-cowboy.jpg" /></a></div>
A request for a picture of our son’s first day of school came through last week. It’s his Matric farewell dance coming up in April (how did that happen?! Our son is in his final year of school already?!), so we’ve been plunged into a flood of nostalgia going through the ancient archives of pictures on our computers. Sighing and aahing (the kids too not just us!) over how cute they were, little girls in princess dresses, gap-toothed and sparkly eyed, our son dressed as a cowboy, a native American Indian, an army soldier, a pirate, round cheeked with a big smile. Of course we haven’t found a single picture of the first day of school. So he has a choice – in what role does he want to feature at his Matric dance – pirate or Indian, cowboy or army dude?<br />
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When I started this blog, coming up for ten years ago, the kids featured a lot – it was never specifically a mommy blog, but they got in on almost every post. Then at some point I felt that it was time to step back a bit and leave them out of the spotlight. The focus shifted to farm life and food, and always our festivals. But I don’t regret a word of those early posts documenting them as small kids – it’s my photo album, my journal, a place where all those funny moments and sayings have been preserved…in lieu of that proper photo album, which I’m always meaning to put together, but haven’t yet achieved.<br />
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That nostalgia for past cuteness is a strange thing. I wouldn’t for a minute turn the clock back, as that would mean turning my back on the amazing, interesting individuals they’ve grown into as teenagers, but it’s hard not to feel a little sad that all those baby and little kid days are behind us. Now I know why moms start agitating for grandchildren the minute their kids leave home! Anyway right now we’re in full on teenage mode ever since Youngest turned 13 last year and we went shopping for her first high heels for the Grade 7 farewell. Middle Daughter pointed out that her younger sister got high heels before she did, which didn’t seem right, so she compensated by getting the silveriest strappy high heels possible for the school’s Valentine’s dance. But enough, I said I'd taken the spotlight off them and it’s starting to reflect back in a myriad of highlights from glitter and sparkling nail polish.<br />
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My blog has become rather thin on the ground lately, I know. Is anyone still reading this? Anyone? I know Marcheline will stop by sooner or later, and my Mum, but quite understand if everyone else is off reading someone who actually posts more frequently! The reason/excuse is that I’ve been writing so much more for work as a freelance writer over the last couple of years that the last thing I feel like doing on weekends is sitting back down at the computer again.<br />
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I’ve been a regular contributor to Neighbourhood, a lifestyle and property supplement in South Africa’s Sunday Times, since it started up in July last year. I’m writing about food: restaurants, cafes, artisan bakeries, chocolate, anything and everything to do with food in the Cape Town area and it’s been great. Sometimes I get to review fine dining restaurants, other times it’s a new deli or café. And then there are interviews with all sorts of new businesses that aren’t food related, or spotlights on a suburb of Cape Town, chatting to residents about what it’s like to live there. I fully intended to write up separate blog posts here to share the experiences… but that’s up there in the realistic stakes with my plan to create a family photo album. But here's the news: my husband has built me a new website as a <a href="http://www.originalorange.co.za/" target="_blank">portfolio for my writing</a> work, and I’ve got a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/KitHeathcockWriter/" target="_blank">Facebook page</a> to go with it.<br />
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So if there’s nothing new to read here, and you feel like a glimpse of the Cape Town food scene, head over there. Or if it's the farm and family life that you want more of why not go back into my archives and share the retrospective mood that I've been indulging in.<br />
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I’ve just been re-reading my <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.co.za/search?updated-min=2006-01-01T00:00:00%2B02:00&updated-max=2007-01-01T00:00:00%2B02:00&max-results=50" target="_blank">blog posts from 2006</a> (getting diverted from writing this post by all those vivid memories brought back from ten years ago) and I’m feeling slightly damp-eyed and nostalgic all over again. For my kids and all those little details that I would have forgotten if I hadn’t blogged them; for the early days of blogging when it was a whole community thing, when I made new friends, and we commented on each others blogs regularly, some of those friends I’m still in touch with today, some still blogging, others just on Facebook; and for those crazy days of being a full time mother with three small kids.<br />
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So a shout out to all those early bloggers of 2006 and to others who started a year or two later like Marcheline of <a href="http://mrssplapthing.blogspot.co.za/" target="_blank">Mental Meatloaf,</a> and who are running with the baton in the true spirit of blogging now that some of us oldies are flagging. And a special mention to Corey of <a href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/" target="_blank">Tongue in Cheek</a>, who started blogging just before I did and who has posted EVERY SINGLE DAY for the last 10 or more years, delighting followers with French brocante, gorgeous pictures and stories of family life in France. I wouldn't be doing what I do today if it hadn't been for my blog and I'd have missed out on knowing some lovely people! I feel like starting a retro blog meme all of a sudden, any takers?!Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-31776907729147676242016-01-21T10:37:00.000+02:002016-01-21T10:45:16.555+02:00Heatwave<div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2E7Ei7UZun6XJHABc4ehgY5yw8yuu3JkY-l49FOQvNxbsM7i0Wx1-D5C2FZvP2ilV9Cjo7NxN8IhWi9v5PV5OHmow-PQcbS5MGTguvl5aqbUd0lc9qDd7INIiKiOolk1itRJA/s1600/20160120_133035_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2E7Ei7UZun6XJHABc4ehgY5yw8yuu3JkY-l49FOQvNxbsM7i0Wx1-D5C2FZvP2ilV9Cjo7NxN8IhWi9v5PV5OHmow-PQcbS5MGTguvl5aqbUd0lc9qDd7INIiKiOolk1itRJA/s320/20160120_133035_001.jpg" width="204" /></a>The donkey on the last quarter of Christmas cake looks comfortably cool with his hooves plunged in snowy icing, isolated under the cake dome in another world… the very opposite of the rest of us, sweltering in South Africa’s current heatwave. There’s something not quite right about the conjunction of Christmas cake and forty degrees of sunshine, to me at least with childhood memories of Christmas cake gobbled up beside a roaring fire.<br />
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We still eat it, trundling in from the school run, dumping heavy bags and getting out homework (school has started for real now, despite the heat) because it’s delicious and we can’t resist, but a rich, heady fruit cake isn’t the ideal teatime treat, when the only comfortable place after about nine in the morning is in the swimming pool. What we should be eating are luscious, chilled slices of juicy watermelon, or home-made ice-cream, smoothies thick with frozen berries from the garden... (we do have those too, but we're stubbornly diligent about making our way through the last of the cake.<br />
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Our straw bale walls keep the worst of the heat at bay for at least half of the day, but by late afternoon we
are desperate to fling open doors and windows, and only the still fierce
heat outside makes us wait just a bit longer for the promise of a
cooler evening breeze. On days like this the only thing to do is get
most of the work done in the morning, so that when the heat overwhelms
the brain with sluggishness you feel justified in collapsing with a book
beside a fan, or seek relief in car air-conditioning by heading out on
the school run.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Y-HjH1TAuIuGWoz60shaBKVQhT9IxfW9fQ403gDXgf5J4fxotxm4x_cqroj1KD2xcYz_YRQyCsUw7b1Jd_FoKb6OyU9QdNtxW2765u1dK7eigT3CUrBJgG_zTtcTV4iC8lSy/s1600/20160120_133237_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Y-HjH1TAuIuGWoz60shaBKVQhT9IxfW9fQ403gDXgf5J4fxotxm4x_cqroj1KD2xcYz_YRQyCsUw7b1Jd_FoKb6OyU9QdNtxW2765u1dK7eigT3CUrBJgG_zTtcTV4iC8lSy/s640/20160120_133237_001.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Everything's dry, dry, dry, the moles looking for moisture by the sprinkler. Can you feel the wall of heat?</span></i></td></tr>
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We scan the weather forecast several times a day, elated when heavy rain is forecast for Saturday, frustrated and disappointed when the forecast shifts and offers a measly light drizzle as an alternative, then later loses any hope of rain at all. Two degrees lower is cause for celebration, not concerned that 38C is still darn hot… it’s a reprieve from the horror of 40C and upwards and we cling to faint hopes.<br />
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On the bright side it’s still cooling down at night most nights. In the small hours before dawn cooler air flows from somewhere magical and trickles in through an open window, so that we pull a thin sheet over ourselves with the luxury of snuggling under something. When we wake properly at 5.30 or 6 the first thing to do is run around the house opening every single window at its widest to fill the house with that coolness before it dissipates over the next two hours.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkZSTOgVcAQnk2YNOBN-qDhXVoOnCWcg5CLkfkxeQNnb-8vIaytew25mgwE5Mq2-16yZjhZ57SlLQl0Rl_Rl7DB6FMLY1ChaCJLMsHklFQeSpAmVRERNY5U_E6cYLwrNgY2M3/s1600/20160120_133153_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkZSTOgVcAQnk2YNOBN-qDhXVoOnCWcg5CLkfkxeQNnb-8vIaytew25mgwE5Mq2-16yZjhZ57SlLQl0Rl_Rl7DB6FMLY1ChaCJLMsHklFQeSpAmVRERNY5U_E6cYLwrNgY2M3/s400/20160120_133153_001.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The best place to lie in the middle of the day</i></span></td></tr>
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The toughest thing to judge is exactly what point to run around shutting them all again – is that breeze still cool, or is it getting warmer than inside now? Get it wrong, sit at the computer too long and forget to close the windows, and the house fills up with hot dryness again and there is no getting away from it. Then, once the sun has dipped below the hill and I can bear to cook supper, we eat outside lingering at the table until it’s dark, long after the kids have cleared their plates and disappeared off, because finally we’re cool and the house is still too hot inside for the sofa to hold any appeal.<br />
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<br />
Most summers we have a period like this, but in recent memory it has been only a few days, here and there, perhaps a short spell in November and again in February and March. This is the first year that we’ve been here that the heat has been something to endure over a long period of time.<br />
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With the whole country groaning under drought conditions, we are luckier than many. We have water. Though our vegetable garden is drying out and producing very little, we are able to keep our trees alive.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvu186EJ7K_rrVNLXqbDRwQ7JOTHPx7n6dRH6dfw-YjJwlrVf4awHsJtrNbbbBnXjnQ8mnD68aYMoKeKPpVUIhWnknVjcxDW8R1WqMMtyznK7aknOCEJeeI7rSQp4MbglzwtIk/s1600/20160121_074952_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvu186EJ7K_rrVNLXqbDRwQ7JOTHPx7n6dRH6dfw-YjJwlrVf4awHsJtrNbbbBnXjnQ8mnD68aYMoKeKPpVUIhWnknVjcxDW8R1WqMMtyznK7aknOCEJeeI7rSQp4MbglzwtIk/s400/20160121_074952_001.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The gleanings of a dried out veggie garden</i></span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG-ZktirM-0zLyzKKKRQngsivwwZVxpG_b7n47R4TtlR3_xRL_aTO1b5D2ucew8Hfrx4DwhDr04hV4K2LT_H-LfPaDnKlm7jT2D4nU_8oU1abXznt5hFD6nDo0neANY2e2Lw_Z/s1600/20160120_133407.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG-ZktirM-0zLyzKKKRQngsivwwZVxpG_b7n47R4TtlR3_xRL_aTO1b5D2ucew8Hfrx4DwhDr04hV4K2LT_H-LfPaDnKlm7jT2D4nU_8oU1abXznt5hFD6nDo0neANY2e2Lw_Z/s400/20160120_133407.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz2zmQrN1GXd7qCJGe7tIw7i8tSAKmTI7PmtoFigo4XCfTuRvFWG0ALpzYE40OKItkCoc_k8AzeJhD3FMaKkxVtBDYTYENrk22uRS1FjfjUFDlrySQto93WBpfeC5Wdc5uX44B/s1600/20160120_133524_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz2zmQrN1GXd7qCJGe7tIw7i8tSAKmTI7PmtoFigo4XCfTuRvFWG0ALpzYE40OKItkCoc_k8AzeJhD3FMaKkxVtBDYTYENrk22uRS1FjfjUFDlrySQto93WBpfeC5Wdc5uX44B/s320/20160120_133524_001.jpg" width="208" /></a>There are almonds to harvest, tomatoes to pick up off dried out plants and make sauce with, the last few mielies (corn) to pick. The leeks have gone to flower and make weird and wonderful summer flower arrangements. .And when I head to school to fetch the kids and nip into the local town for the bank or shops, it’s right on the beach and the temperature drops to a blessed 28C, pleasant summer hot, beach weather.<br />
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All we can do is pray for enough rain to fill depleted dams, for it to fall where farmers need it most, and where firefighters need its help. (Scary fires are raging in the wine farm area of Simonsberg, there was a bad one up near Elgin and another in the Cedarberg, the list goes on, the land is so dry that bush fires start at the merest spark)<br />
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Here’s hoping for temperatures to ease off to more bearable levels, so that we can grumble about something else for a change, like the free-falling rand, for instance! </div>
Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-40403527646603878812015-10-25T19:36:00.001+02:002015-10-25T19:36:06.882+02:00Chicken Pie Recipe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A couple of years ago, in honour of a birthday present Le Creuset pie dish, I made a chicken pie that finally ticked all the boxes for my kids. Attempts back in the mists of time had left half the family lukewarm and, let’s face it, if you’re going to all the effort of making a chicken pie from scratch you want a few wows, some applause, at the very least a series of ‘yums’ running around the table. Finally however I’d found the right recipe for my family, creamy enough without being too rich, not too dry, no weird / scary vegetables lurking in the depths. That was a while back now and recently I started getting some less than subtle hints from the kids that they’d like another taste of that chicken pie.<br /><br />
A few weeks ago, I finally had a few days without major writing deadlines, when I could abandon the computer early without a qualm, so I went looking for that chicken pie recipe as a starting point. Could I remember where I’d found it? I searched here on my blog, because if a recipe is that good the safest place to record it for posterity has to be here... only the failures came to light. Nigella’s pot pies may have wowed her children, but mine evidently have <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.co.za/2009/11/kids-love-it.html" target="_blank">different tastes</a>. I went back into Facebook archives to see if I’d mentioned it there. No joy. Finally I dusted off some recipe books languishing at the back of the pile under the kitchen counter (possibly two years worth of dust, it was hard to tell!) and finally found my source in Gordon Ramsay’s Cooking for Friends, given to me on the same birthday as the pie dish. I hadn’t followed the recipe to the letter, but it was what I’d based my successful pie on, so I was in business.<br />
<br />What I like about this recipe is that it uses the minimum of pots, just one in fact plus the pie dish, so you don’t end up with piles of washing up, and you could prepare most of it in advance quite easily and just post the pie into the oven in time for supper, if you were ever that organised. It’s also easy enough to substitute any vegetables that your kids find acceptable instead of the original mushrooms and baby onions that Gordon advises. I ended up using roughly chopped onions, carrots and potatoes because that was what I had, but peas could easily replace the carrots and, if I were making it for adults, leeks and mushrooms would be perfect too. Plus it’s relatively quick, apart from leaving things to cool before putting it all together.<br />
<br />Because I can see myself searching frantically for the recipe again in another two years time, I’m posting my version here as a permanent reminder.<br />
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<b>Chicken Pie Recipe</b><br />
<br />800ml chicken stock<br />2 sprigs thyme and bay leaf<br />500-600g chicken breasts<br />300g onion roughly chopped<br />200g vegetables chopped (potatoes, peas, carrots, leeks or mushrooms)<br />50g butter<br />50g flour<br />100ml milk or cream<br />1 egg yolk mixed with 2 teaspoons water<br />Pastry made from 250g flour / 125g butter / 6 tablespoons iced water or enough ready-made pastry to line top and bottom of a 23cm pie dish<br /><br />
Bring chicken stock to a simmer and poach the chicken breasts in it with the herbs for 10-12 minutes until cooked through. Remove the chicken to a plate to cool. Then chop into bite-size pieces.<br /><br />
Add onions to stock and cook for 5 minutes. Then add the rest of the vegetables according to size so that they are all cooked to al dente tenderness at same time. Remove to a plate to cool.<br /><br />
Boil the stock until it has reduced to about 1 ½ - 2 cups in volume. Tip it into a jug.<br /><br />
Melt the butter in the pot. Stir in the flour to make a thick paste. Keep stirring for about 3 minutes to cook the flour. Add the stock a little at a time, stirring in thoroughly until you have a thick smooth sauce.<br /><br />
Add the milk or cream, stir well and simmer, stirring often until the sauce is thick and creamy. <br /><br />
Mix together the chopped chicken, cooked veggies and sauce and leave to cool completely.<br /><br />
Line a 23cm pie dish with pastry. Add cooled filling in an even layer.<br /><br />
Beat up the egg yolk with water to make an egg wash. Brush a little around the edge of the pastry. Put the top layer of pastry on, trim and crimp the edges. Cut a cross in the middle. Use any trimmings to make decorative leaves to go on the lid if you wish. Brush the whole top with the egg wash.<br />
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Bake at 200C/400F for approx 35 minutes until the top is golden and the the filling is bubbling. <br />
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<br /> Bon Appetit!<br /><br /><br /><br />Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-23617118229247271762015-09-02T12:15:00.000+02:002015-09-02T12:15:04.745+02:00Garam Masala Recipe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Once quite by chance I bought the perfect garam masala mix. It was aromatic and light, but also had warm depth, the whole spectrum of spicy notes, high and low. Several favourite recipes became dependent on it... and then I finished the packet. And couldn’t find the same brand again, anywhere. I tried other brands but they were disappointing, with the subtlety and shading of a brick. Eventually after many requests for that <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.com/2013/07/mildly-spiced-persian-bean-soup-recipe.html" target="_blank">spicy bean soup</a>, whose vital ingredient was garam masala, I did what I should have done ages before, I googled <a href="http://www.vegrecipesofindia.com/punjabi-garam-masala/" target="_blank">garam</a> <a href="http://indianhealthyrecipes.com/punjabi-garam-masala-powder-recipe/" target="_blank">masala</a> recipes, found two which sounded right and made my own.<br />
<br />There is no such thing as a standard garam masala in India. Every family has their own combination of spices, some more aromatic, some milder, some hotter. So it’s up to you to find the balance that suits you. For me that was aromatic and relatively mild, enough pepper to tickle the taste buds but not enough to sear them, and chilli an optional extra to add to an individual recipe later. Cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, bay leaves, nutmeg provide the aromatics; black pepper, cumin, coriander and ginger the heat and depth.<br />
<br />The recipes I used as a guide were both Punjabi ones, advising you to dry the spices in the sun, once you’ve cleaned them all carefully. It was winter when I was making this, so I took the alternative option and lightly roasted the spices in a hot pan, one spice at a time, so that the smaller seeds didn’t burn. Then once they’d cooled, all I had to do was grind them up in the coffee grinder and inhale the gorgeous aromas.<br />
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(TIP: unless you like your coffee chai scented, you might need to grind a few coffee beans and discard them to get rid of all the spice oils before returning the grinder to coffee duty!)<br />
<br />So this is what I used for mine. Feel free to create your own version of garam masala and customise your Indian recipes. I’m never going to buy ready made garam masala ever again, that’s for sure.<br />
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Ingredients<br />
<br />½ cup coriander seeds<br />¼ cup cumin seeds<br />2 tablespoons cardamom seeds<br />2 tablespoons cloves<br />1 tablespoon black peppercorns<br />8 sticks cinnamon<br />4 bay leaves<br />1 nutmeg<br /><br />Other things you can add: 1 star anise, 1 inch dried ginger, mace.<br />
<br />Once you’ve ground up the spices, store them in an air-tight jar and use within a few months, otherwise they lose their aroma and you might as well have bought that sadly flat, dull brand from the supermarket.<br />
<br />Two favourite recipes that are totally dependent on really good garam masala: my <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.com/2013/07/mildly-spiced-persian-bean-soup-recipe.html" target="_blank">Persian bean soup</a>, and Madhur Jaffrey’s <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.com/2011/07/sag-aloo-my-indian-cooking-quest.html" target="_blank">sag aloo</a>.<br />
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P.S. Just in case you’ve been wondering where I was in August (thinking of you here, <a href="http://mrssplapthing.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Marcheline</a>, as my most attentive reader!), it was somewhere exciting and I’ve got a ton of photos to sort through before I share some of it here... hint, there were huge sand dunes and lots of wildlife.Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-85757432082832820022015-07-21T22:02:00.001+02:002015-07-21T22:06:48.042+02:00Seapoint Research Trip with Chocolate<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNuMTuWUZ9zp5qhLewC_z44JTM94sodSVCFwjueqdNaIVxVaDs2767MnIywn2Qxvct2Ei7J2fwtHTNPKDUF6PCP4qtsqImijDGTEV9mpE1QiQyxZWePPuDmuz20811gJTWCfLO/s1600/my-sugar-chocolate-buddha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNuMTuWUZ9zp5qhLewC_z44JTM94sodSVCFwjueqdNaIVxVaDs2767MnIywn2Qxvct2Ei7J2fwtHTNPKDUF6PCP4qtsqImijDGTEV9mpE1QiQyxZWePPuDmuz20811gJTWCfLO/s320/my-sugar-chocolate-buddha.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Serendipity on a plate at My Sugar</i></span></td></tr>
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There are two sorts of days when you write for a living. The ones where you sit at your computer all day, um, writing... plus the ones where the entire day goes by at your computer not actually writing anything publishable, (make that three sorts), but sending out endless emails to people that you need information or images from with frequent lapses onto Facebook just to distract you from the fact that not a single word has been written, apart from all those email words which don’t count towards your word count.<br />
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And then there are, very occasionally, days like today. Golden days. Days that start out with one plan and end up serendipitously turning into something else. Today we had a client meeting in town at 10, which I planned on following up with a quick drive around Seapoint in Cape Town, to research background for an article that has a looming deadline. So I dressed for a casual meeting,one step up from my work at home winter uniform of jeans and fleece jacket, and headed out with my husband (we work as a team for our web clients) into a sunny but very windy winter day driving along the N7 to town, long views of Table Mountain all the way.<br />
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Then just as we hit the N1 he gets a call to cancel the meeting, one partner called away the other one keeping the business going single handed, can we postpone?<br />
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So suddenly the whole morning lies ahead of us and all of Seapoint to research. Our first port of call is a little cafe called My Sugar that opened recently and that I will review for another article later on. I’d originally planned on just a quick look in today, but now with no meeting and Patrick desperate for coffee, we grab a table and I settle in to tasting... chocolates. Yes my best... and if ten o’clock in the morning ought to be too early who cares, chocolate is always chocolate and this is the real deal. I’m not going to review it here yet because I need to save the drum rolls for my print article, but suffice to say that if you love good chocolate and good coffee, you have to go there and taste for yourself.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1jeM9VreeM7ENZQ5uJigvnhFLZFzOnnqhtVdvu92yN32Qjkt8iRQMKVOLQ4srYDEv2bqorHICoG8DaQJegWUSMs8QzqYxYVAh6TWjAriiCuNfyzfmRHRmezwTM06fDoTCEwh8/s1600/my-sugar-chocoalte-cafe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1jeM9VreeM7ENZQ5uJigvnhFLZFzOnnqhtVdvu92yN32Qjkt8iRQMKVOLQ4srYDEv2bqorHICoG8DaQJegWUSMs8QzqYxYVAh6TWjAriiCuNfyzfmRHRmezwTM06fDoTCEwh8/s400/my-sugar-chocoalte-cafe.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Two perfect chocolates on a plate at My Sugar</span></i></td></tr>
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Back to the car and ready to go exploring we find ourselves in the road a friend now lives in. On the off-chance we phone to see if she’s around, to find her kicking her heels at home between the arrival of various electricians and window fitters, with plenty of time to chat. A cup of tea and catch up are followed by a personalized guided tour of the back streets of Seapoint, gathering way more detail and local gossip than will ever fit into my article but so much more interesting with a life-long local to show you around than to go researching on your own.<br />
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We headed up to the heights of Fresnaye where huge houses are worth multiple millions (R60 million for some), and where stunning views out over the ocean or up behind at the mountain are enjoyed by security watchmen and builders, while absent foreign owners are off enjoying somewhere else’s sunshine. Then we descended to lower levels where the air is less rarefied and more suitable for mere mortals to breathe, muddled along Main Road, pottered along the promenade and went to gaze at the lone swimmer doing lengths in the Pavilion swimming pool, where the temperature was advertised at 13C today, one degree warmer than the ocean. Everyone I'd previously spoken to about Seapoint had told me that it’s got the best weather and is much less windy than the City Bowl. Well today was the day that proved the exception to the rule. The wind was blowing in earnest, palm trees having a bad hair day, but the sun was shining and those veteran die-hard swimmers aren’t deterred by such considerations as comfort.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjwlDudj2R-vj12ucD6661B1NWt-0fofxGL21YUZQ_9ZSIS0pWAkbjfB0ovd7TnAmZCp3Kss2dMPoCt_VwJmLfMEwFyuJ8WueYam1wBYwGBfSufWPSZ4Urz9RuowsaRoIEedV/s1600/seapoint-pavilion-cape-town.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjwlDudj2R-vj12ucD6661B1NWt-0fofxGL21YUZQ_9ZSIS0pWAkbjfB0ovd7TnAmZCp3Kss2dMPoCt_VwJmLfMEwFyuJ8WueYam1wBYwGBfSufWPSZ4Urz9RuowsaRoIEedV/s640/seapoint-pavilion-cape-town.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Seapoint Pavilion - salt water pools with the ocean behind</i></span></td></tr>
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By then after so much leisurely and pleasurable dawdling, school pick up time was nagging at our thoughts. Far from our West Coast stomping grounds with dog food to buy, petrol to put in and three kids to collect, we relinquished the urban vibe, calculated that our whole farm with four houses on it would probably not even buy us a two bedroom flat here and pointed the car to Melkbos.<br />
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And as this was a day of being a food writer and food trucks are one of the current Cape Town food happenings not to be ignored, we patronised our <i>I love Melkies</i> food truck for the first time for a late lunch (I was slightly jittery on caffeine and chocolate by this time) and had a very enjoyable toasted bagel with scrambled egg and red onion for me and a real proper hot dog for him with red onion, gherkins and sweet chilli sauce. Definitely a good street food experience to be repeated.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4EbKC3FfQIrApmreYVafNxy7zJzqMNM2OWhGWyiwDMd1F_B2xOrLR4x6ZJXKoWNI2png6Cq5B2aoLcLy1m6j9VOsAnQJtOTQKldm3NNqRZ1chVdQKAW_pW12AAoQUjf5QVOLU/s1600/food-truck-melkies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4EbKC3FfQIrApmreYVafNxy7zJzqMNM2OWhGWyiwDMd1F_B2xOrLR4x6ZJXKoWNI2png6Cq5B2aoLcLy1m6j9VOsAnQJtOTQKldm3NNqRZ1chVdQKAW_pW12AAoQUjf5QVOLU/s400/food-truck-melkies.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">I Love Melkies food truck in Melkbosstrand</span></i></td></tr>
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Now I’ve got enough notes to write my Seapoint article, an almost written review and a whole blog post out of my day, I feel energised and well fed both physically and mentally, and it was great having my husband along for the adventure too, all thanks to the postponed client meeting. Here's to many more research trips with him along as driver and co-ordinator!Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-56026871263047995082015-07-12T15:50:00.000+02:002015-07-12T15:57:01.352+02:00Our Winter Festival Over the Years<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Christmas in summer still doesn’t feel quite right for me, even though my kids have grown up with it. Sunshine, salads and a cold lunch are quite normal for them, though they always prefer it when it’s cool enough for roast potatoes to go with the turkey. So when we first got here we came up with the idea of cramming some of those wonderful winter traditions from my English childhood, sparklers and bonfires on Guy Fawkes night, mulled wine and lanterns at Christmas, into one big celebration of winter. <br />
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That first festival back in 2002 revolved around making lanterns and carrying them on sticks in a procession to create our circle (the circle that is now the centre of all our festivals). We then came back down the hill to light a huge bonfire and drank mulled wine. I think we had sparklers that time, if not then certainly by the next winter they had been added to the essential ingredients list, along with soups and boerewors rolls and an avenue of lights made from tea light candles in brown paper bags.<br />
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When the kids were smaller the most exciting thing about the evening was being able to run around outside in the dark, while the adults stood around the bonfire warming hands on mugs of mulled wine. Now the older ones have graduated to sitting around the fire watching sparks fly, though nobody has quite got too old for a sparkler or two, and licensed pyromania retains its allure.<br />
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Our festival a couple of weeks ago heralded the winter holidays and was a really lovely one. We had new friends join us and the kids did most of the preparation work themselves, with teams decorating the archway, filling bags with sand for the candlelit pathway and the boys building the bonfire. The Malawian couple who live on the farm joined us for the first time, intrigued by the whole idea, as in the days leading up to the festival Simon had been working on clearing some of the restios that were gradually overgrowing the sandpit.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Lanterns lit and ready for the procession to the circle</i></span></td></tr>
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The chilly wind died down while we were busy making lanterns inside and
by the time the sun had gone and we were lighting the lanterns it was
almost warm and completely still, the moon well up and the Venus Jupiter
conjunction bright in the night sky. It really was magical as we sat in
the circle, read our blessings and the vision prayer and coaxed the
kids into singing.<br />
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Then a few of us rushed to the house to bring the soups and mulled wine out, others put a match to the bonfire and the men started braaiing the sausages around a smaller fire. We had a fine array of soups from butternut to <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.com/2008/03/wtsim-lentil-soup.html" target="_blank">lentil</a>, chicken to beef and barley, as well as a bean stew. Two huge plaited loaves disappeared without any trouble and there were still boeri rolls for those with any room left. We were all loath to leave the fire so it was late before we eventually moved indoors for puddings, some of the littlest having already fallen asleep on the sofa inside, though signs of life returned once the scent of pudding was in the air.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Look for the Venus Jupiter conjunction just over our heads.</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Licensed pyromania</span></i></td></tr>
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Altogether a wonderful festival leaving us all feeling re-connected, to the turn of the seasons, to the earth and to each other.<br />
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Read more about our winter <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.com/2013/06/our-winter-festival-2013.html" target="_blank">festival</a> and <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.com/2012/06/building-bonfire.html" target="_blank">building the bonfire</a>Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-81685822991153655802015-05-08T10:00:00.000+02:002015-05-08T10:00:02.845+02:00A Foreigners’ Guide to Load-shedding <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnu6nDMTogP-0pjksk256xXmXjai73FN2z4eE7PQBmTrIpp9A-M15pH5Nb0-tRukw_UvPrRS27JeyHlgA9-niyXs5bZCvRn7fxzoaDbokQtOFycAb-3LwAM9UUKOiKNQafPsv/s1600/load-shedding-homework.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnu6nDMTogP-0pjksk256xXmXjai73FN2z4eE7PQBmTrIpp9A-M15pH5Nb0-tRukw_UvPrRS27JeyHlgA9-niyXs5bZCvRn7fxzoaDbokQtOFycAb-3LwAM9UUKOiKNQafPsv/s320/load-shedding-homework.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Homework by candlelight</i></span></td></tr>
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Some things are uniquely South African, like braais, fynbos, vuvuzelas and Table Mountain. Now we have one more thing to bewilder and confuse visitors from abroad and overseas readers of our social media platforms: load-shedding.<br />
<br />Load-shedding has consumed all of our energies and channelled our collective frustration into a froth of social media invective and subversive wit for the last several months now. If you’ve seen the word Eishkom once you’ve seen it a thousand times, but if you’re still in the dark (pun alert) about what we’re talking about, here is a short guide:<br />
<br />Load-shedding is when the power to your whole area gets switched off for a few hours, usually when you have a cake in the oven, an important deadline to meet, or a very exciting rugby game on TV. You may know in advance that it’s going off, or you may have no warning at all. <br />
<br />In theory a schedule is all worked out and clearly defined. You can look up your area's schedule of 2.5 hour slots online and see what times are allocated to your area. <br />
<br />For each area there are three scenarios: Stage 1, Stage 2, Stage 3.<br />
<br />Stage 1 is relatively benign – one of your three daily time slots alternates over three days and some days you have none at all.<br />Stage 2 you have one slot every day, sometimes two.<br />Stage 3 is the killer, two or three slots every day<br />
<br />But here is the wild card. <br />You never know if there will be load-shedding at all, if so what time it will start, and which stage will be put in place. <br />
<br />It might start off being announced as Stage 1 and then suddenly change to Stage 2 with less than a minute’s warning. Or they might say all day that there will be no load-shedding, only to put Stage 1 in place a minute before 6pm, which is when our time slot starts, crashing all our computers.... again.<br />
<br />So what is that Eishkom thing all about?<br />Eskom is South Africa’s national energy provider. Eish is a very South African word expressing exasperation or disbelief, with a long drawn out vowel sound to funnel all that frustration. A natural match.<br />
<br />Why are Eskom doing this to us? <br />It’s not just to browbeat us into submission and make those new-age hippies advocating alternative power accept the need for more nuclear power stations built by the Russians (I think... unless you subscribe to conspiracy theories). Our national power demands have gone up and the infrastructure is all suddenly getting older (apparently Eskom didn’t see that one coming) and is in urgent need of maintenance. Some of our shiny new wind power farms are working, others are standing there not turning and waiting for parts that never come. We have lots and lots of free and gorgeous sunshine, but it’s too expensive to harness it (why?).<br />
<br />Because this is a light and fluffy post I won’t mention that pundits tell us this is only going to get worse, or how bad this is for our economy, and can reassure those who are thinking of coming over here to visit our beautiful, hospitable country that all the essential infrastructure is still working – hospitals don’t get load-shed, most hotels and restaurants have generator back-ups and much of the CBD isn’t targeted at all. If you come and stay with us I can promise candlelit dinners cooked over our gas hob, braais and, without the distractions of computers and TV, long chats on the sofa in the dim candlelight.<br />
<br />We’ll survive. Our computers might not and our cakes may all collapse but, to look on the bright side, (call me Pollyanna if you want) this might be just what is needed to get the solar industry to go mainstream and to motivate a whole lot of us to get off the grid, so that Eishkom won’t need to build any more nuclear power stations after all. Here’s hoping!<br />
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<i>Fellow South Africans - if you haven't yet got a reliable load-shedding alert system, try <a href="http://loadshedding.news24.com/" target="_blank">Gridwatch</a>, a Smartphone app from News24, that works pretty well... as long as Eskom give anyone advance notice that is!</i>Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-8385858668949649932015-05-07T12:23:00.000+02:002015-06-10T09:45:45.307+02:00Guilt-Free Chocolate Discovery<i>Edited to add: Before you get as excited as I was about this new chocolate there has since grown up a storm of controversy around it. Its labelling is misleading at best - there is sugar in this bar, it just comes from honey according to the makers, but it isn't going to be any good for diabetics or paleo people. They do a diabetic bar apparently, but check it all out before you buy and don't go by the over optimistic labels shown below! Shame as it's very tasty! Here's the <a href="http://lechocolatier.co.za/statement/" target="_blank">manufacturer's statement</a>.</i><br />
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Oh my word! I have just discovered the chocoholic’s dream fix – a bar of dark chocolate that is sugar-free, fat-free and perfect for sharing with banting friends (or is the sharing aspect a down-side? Will have to think about that).<br />
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Basically this bar is all chocolate, no weird ingredients, and it is smooth and dark, just how I like my chocolate. Only problem is it disappears too quickly – the bars look nice and big, but they are thin, so the temptation is to keep snapping off a bit more and a bit more till it’s all gone. But then that happens with any good chocolate in this house.<br />
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The story that I was told at <a href="http://www.natures-deli.co.za/wmenu.php" target="_blank">Nature’s Deli</a>, where we happened upon this bar the other day, is that the Swiss technology division who produce the couverture have developed a new natural way of taking the bitterness from the cocoa beans, a bit like decaffeinating coffee, but without using any chemicals. So all you get in the bar is 70% organic cocoa and 30% organic cocoa butter. Then it’s tempered six times instead of just once or twice, to get silky smooth chocolate that melts in the mouth. <br />
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If I have any criticism it’s that the packaging could do with a little more work to make it user-friendly. Because the bar is thin it has a cardboard backing and the foil inside is glued to the card, which made it hard to re-wrap neatly. Not something that’s going to put me off buying it though!<br />
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The <a href="http://lechocolatier.co.za/organic-slab-chocolate-70/" target="_blank">Le Chocolatier</a> factory is in Paarl and their retail shop is in Stellenbosch. You can also buy online or at a few health shops around Cape Town. Oh, and it only costs a few rand more than my other favourite (but mass-produced with no pretensions to organic status) chocolate bar, so it's good value for that amount of foodie halo polishing credentials.<br />
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Now I’ve gone and finished the bar, all in the name of research while I was writing this, so I definitely need more, sooner rather than later. <br />
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<i>Disclosure: I wasn't asked to review this product and my sister-in-law bought it for me to try, thanks SIL!</i>Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-60538082959385134222015-03-23T08:00:00.000+02:002015-03-23T09:33:30.929+02:00Autumn Festival<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT7XrQYVZh5FlUQdbJ0GxnO35oLYhznWiV9E1becTv98IMb9C53ema966Mi9QJd5q3vrdVmFhOk9Sqkt2ti_yJgiJf_UK2G_2pnx5hCo8_54R1Lu1DQwvCGwoQf-bttxX-5UK1/s1600/IMG_20150321_231015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT7XrQYVZh5FlUQdbJ0GxnO35oLYhznWiV9E1becTv98IMb9C53ema966Mi9QJd5q3vrdVmFhOk9Sqkt2ti_yJgiJf_UK2G_2pnx5hCo8_54R1Lu1DQwvCGwoQf-bttxX-5UK1/s1600/IMG_20150321_231015.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
In almost every festival post I say something about how the festivals have their own independent energy and our autumn one on Saturday had completely its own feel. Whether we invite all and sundry or don’t send out any invitations and rely on friends remembering the date and getting in touch, those who are meant to be there come, sometimes creating a gathering of 40 or more, other times less than 20. This time three families of friends from Cape Town who are regular festival attendees couldn’t come for various reasons and so it was a small group of our local friend-family, with the gang of six girls who’ve grown up together through many years of festivals, in charge of the sand sculptures.<br />
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The theme for autumn is earth and harvest. When the kids were little it was all about making sand-castles decorated with shells and harvest things. We don’t have the rich colours of the Northern hemisphere autumn, the landscape is still dry and bleached after a long hot summer, but there are seed heads and dry grasses, restios and the fruits of the vegetable garden to remind us of the season. Now the children are older the castles have shifted to elaborate sand sculptures laboured over for hours, perfect sand balls, and stick and fabric light towers flanking the entrance to the circle.<br />
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I usually assemble a basket of things harvested from the farm as a symbolic thank you for the abundance of the garden. This year’s held almonds, tomatoes, a pomegranate, carrot and red onion. Last year’s autumn festival jar of strawberry jam was still sitting in the centre of the circle when I was tidying up, its contents reduced to a third of their volume, but still a healthy colour, not that anyone volunteered to taste it! And an enduring reminder of festivals past is the little almond tree, that grew from one of the almonds left there one long ago autumn festival and has managed to survive against all odds in the hot mini-desert of the sand-pit without any irrigation.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWjB9U_TX5-25kwFcii6cchbZKN1ZU8mMTgxF2W7byM8FSvHC2yvy8gjmMdy4OSCWM6f-AoL3ck529VyVi0XzUjvyWdgbdcHoRo4mxD5jCZvlY4l9pkyBG_ltnkbqdQAjEkBys/s1600/IMG_20150322_093244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWjB9U_TX5-25kwFcii6cchbZKN1ZU8mMTgxF2W7byM8FSvHC2yvy8gjmMdy4OSCWM6f-AoL3ck529VyVi0XzUjvyWdgbdcHoRo4mxD5jCZvlY4l9pkyBG_ltnkbqdQAjEkBys/s1600/IMG_20150322_093244.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The harvest offerings the next morning, the little almond tree behind.</i></span></td></tr>
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Our festival yesterday will be remembered for another thing. Earth Hour may be due next Saturday 28th, when we plan to switch off lights between 8.30pm and 9.30pm, but yesterday we had an Eskom enforced Earth Day, the whole day without electricity (due to a fault being repaired), which meant a complete shake around of any plans I’d made for baking quiche, biscuits, <a href="http://whatsforsupper-juno.blogspot.com/2010/04/tomato-and-onion-soup-with-roast-garlic.html" target="_blank">roast tomato soup</a> and so on. It also meant that we had no water pressure, so dishes kept piling up on the chopping table while we hoped against hope that the power would come on before friends arrived, so we could do the washing up. It didn’t, so we reverted to the old method of boiling a pan of rainwater, and rinsing in the trickle of water that manages to come through the tap without the pressure pump.<br />
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And it turned out it didn’t matter. With most of the guests the kids’ friends, and the only adults our family and a couple of friends who might as well be family, it didn’t matter that things were less than perfect. It didn’t matter that we couldn’t get to the computer to write our blessings and retrieve the St Francis’ prayers, or that I never did make quiche. The bread was baked in my SIL’s gas oven, was burnt and very crusty on the bottom and slightly paler than usual on top, but it tasted good. I jigged the <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.com/2015/03/harvest-and-recipe-for-tomato-soup.html" target="_blank">tomato soup recipe</a> to a stove top version, only to remember that I usually liquidise it, which would er... need electricity... and luckily located the mouli-legumes than I use for guava puree, which did the job.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizVnVTa_VFUKvDbdBnO3Obff41v-w1Y3D5ZKcOUvP9LxtPzzhpt0AqewyOFegI3EVmYx1BZ8Zk8VBjiSZks7us6ozZXCtfJHokjehl8UQ2wJLU7_dDA2M3hcxSCDefmik1_vf_/s1600/20150321_182659.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizVnVTa_VFUKvDbdBnO3Obff41v-w1Y3D5ZKcOUvP9LxtPzzhpt0AqewyOFegI3EVmYx1BZ8Zk8VBjiSZks7us6ozZXCtfJHokjehl8UQ2wJLU7_dDA2M3hcxSCDefmik1_vf_/s1600/20150321_182659.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Olaf the Sandman feeling very relaxed!</span></i></td></tr>
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So it turned out to be a very relaxed and laid back festival, doing what
we could and not fretting about the rest. The girls had learned one of
the St Francis prayers as a sung version a couple of years ago and so
opened our circle celebration with it. We all took turns to say our
thanks and blessings straight from the heart and off the cuff, sent
golden healing energy to a family friend who is fighting cancer, read
the vision prayer together, and then the older girls played a few songs
on the treble and tenor recorders, which always sound so evocative and
medieval listened to under a starry sky with the chirruping of frogs as
the backing vocals.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcYgw51N5JBloc5iB8u1QmoAmgDJf8cx4fqrIcMXVEeUqtDGPgp3dHFPgbjY2bJ_XHK4nhBWnOTz8rQKhMukdGr717AznRl9v991B_T0F1mXof-iWpCbEnx67ZJnGFCEl7mRu_/s1600/IMG_20150321_225025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcYgw51N5JBloc5iB8u1QmoAmgDJf8cx4fqrIcMXVEeUqtDGPgp3dHFPgbjY2bJ_XHK4nhBWnOTz8rQKhMukdGr717AznRl9v991B_T0F1mXof-iWpCbEnx67ZJnGFCEl7mRu_/s1600/IMG_20150321_225025.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Willow loved her first festival, having a giant game of hide and seek among the bushes and restios</span></i></td></tr>
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We walked back to the house under bright stars to flickering candlelight and slight chaos as we tried to find plates and cutlery in the semi-darkness. More and more tea lights were lit until the room had a gorgeous glow and there was just enough food to feed us all. After 8pm when our eyes were used to the warm glow, the electricity came back on again, so that we could dismiss the lurking worry about our full freezers, leave off the overhead lights and switch on just a few side lamps and carry on with the mellow evening. And luckily my SIL had made double quantities of choccie pudding so that everyone was able to have seconds.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></td></tr>
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More Autumn festivals through the years:<br />
In <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.com/2013/03/our-autumn-festival.html" target="_blank">2013</a> it was just us and the same gang of kids, just two years younger.<br />
In <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.com/2010/04/autumn-festival-pumpkins-sand-and-straw.html" target="_blank">2010</a> we had some fantastic straw angels and celebrated Earth Hour for real.<br />
In <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.com/2009/03/pumpkins-and-angels-in-autumn.html" target="_blank">2009</a> more straw angels, some great pumpkins and a gorgeous sand mandala.Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-10764615446028262432015-03-22T14:57:00.001+02:002015-03-22T15:00:28.891+02:00Harvest and a Recipe for Tomato Soup<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It’s our autumn festival tomorrow – the time when we celebrate harvest, the earth and all the good things that come from it. Most years our harvest is a dim memory by now – the strawberries long gone, almonds harvested a month ago and the veggie garden almost bare, struggling to keep going at this end of the summer and thirstily waiting for the winter rains to bring it back to life.<br />
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Not this year. This year we are groaning under a super abundance of tomatoes. I’ve been making Jane-Anne’s <a href="http://whatsforsupper-juno.blogspot.com/2010/04/tomato-and-onion-soup-with-roast-garlic.html" target="_blank">roast onion and tomato soup</a> in large batches until my freezer is full of it. I’ve been peeling and dicing tomatoes for the freezer. I took a box full to the last Camphill <a href="http://www.camphill.org.za/market" target="_blank">market</a> and sold most of them. I’ve been picking whole baskets every single morning and giving them away to friends. Our staff have been taking home as much as they can carry. And still there are more.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQU1F-1_xyuL_5ChW91ppPOkyeQAl0t4-08a_HRntnPEb250Sz8rQBBB5K1SiZZqUjZtxgh8yTyL9FosqIjKudhF6U60E-UIryy_EcBqRLiTxxCLWGNdlL65znmcZ4E-BQnep8/s1600/vegetable-garden-tomatoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQU1F-1_xyuL_5ChW91ppPOkyeQAl0t4-08a_HRntnPEb250Sz8rQBBB5K1SiZZqUjZtxgh8yTyL9FosqIjKudhF6U60E-UIryy_EcBqRLiTxxCLWGNdlL65znmcZ4E-BQnep8/s1600/vegetable-garden-tomatoes.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">It's messy and overgrown with grass but those falling down tomatoes are tasty!</span></i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></td></tr>
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I think we might have planted just a few too many tomato plants for our needs! But it is wonderful to have lovely rich tasty tomatoes to squander guilt-free in large quantities on soups and sauces. If I were a diligent farmer’s wife I would have been canning them and already have enough for a year’s supply. But I don’t have those proper canning jars and all the online canning gurus insist on new lids and proper seals, so I’m hesitant about trying it with recycled jam jars. So instead I freeze chopped tomatoes, tomato sauce and tomato soup until there is no more room, and then think of who else I can give tomatoes to!<br />
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One thing is for sure, we’ll be eating tomato soup at our festival tomorrow, plus salad from the garden and maybe a spinach and feta quiche. So the feta isn’t from the garden but the spinach is. And we need to use up all our frozen guava puree from last year’s harvest to make room in the freezer for this year’s guavas, which will be ripening from the end of next month onwards, so it will be guava fool for pudding.<br />
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<i>Edited to add: I didn’t get round to posting this on Friday, so it’s a day after the festival, which I’ll post about separately. Friends from Camphill came over on Friday evening and we filled four big buckets of tomatoes for them to take back and share around the village. And still there are more tomatoes begging to be picked!</i><br />
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<b>Tomato Soup Recipe</b><br />
A roast tomato and onion soup is a fantastic way of getting plenty of oomph out of ripe tomatoes (see link above for Jane-Anne's fabulous version). I was going to make a huge batch for our festival yesterday, but Eskom decreed otherwise, so I had to come up with a stove-top adaptation. It worked and had plenty of flavour, even though it was slightly subtler, and didn’t need the addition of stock to let it down at all. This is it in a rough version. Feel free to change quantities.<br />
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6 medium onions peeled<br />
2 tablespoons olive oil<br />
2 tablespoons butter<br />
20 or so ripe tomatoes, halved<br />
1 tablespoon sugar<br />
1 tablespoon wine vinegar<br />
Salt and pepper to taste.<br />
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Cut onions into quarters and then eighths.<br />
In a large pan heat the butter and olive oil, add the onions and sugar and cook, stirring occasionally until they are softening and starting to caramelise.<br />
Do let them catch on the bottom towards the end to get that caramelly depth.<br />
Add the vinegar and stir.<br />
Add in the tomatoes with a seasoning of salt and pepper, stir well.<br />
Cover the pot and leave to cook at a medium/low heat until everything is tender, 45 minutes to an hour).<br />
If you don’t have electricity, process through a mouli-legumes, otherwise a liquidiser will do!<br />
Check the seasoning and consistency. If it’s too thick let the puree down with some vegetable or chicken stock - mine was just right as is, but it depends on the juiciness of the tomatoes and length of time cooking.<br />
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<br />Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-87754652355538623912015-02-28T21:01:00.002+02:002015-02-28T21:09:18.760+02:00Design Indaba Expo 2015 - Beads on a NecklaceSo many beautiful things and eyes only big enough to hold a part of it!<br />
Design Indaba Expo really needs to be visited several times to be able to take it all in. If you’re like me and prone to overwhelm after a couple of hours, there’s just no way of seeing and appreciating everything.<br />
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I went this morning with my sister-in-law, who has worked in the craft and design industry for many years and knows lots of people involved. Our morning turned out like a string of beads on a necklace, stories and beautiful objects interlaced to create a very personal impression of the whole. I'll share a few of the beads that grabbed my eye and ear and leave the birds-eye comprehensive picture to others with more experience of the scene.<br />
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So much depends on the random direction you take at the beginning of an exhibition, that first half hour when you are fresh and full of interest in everything reaps the most enthusiasm and excitement. After three hours when feet are tired and brain overloaded, you hardly notice things that would have delighted you earlier.<br />
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My first memory bead is made up of these gorgeous fabric designs by <a href="http://www.designteamfabrics.co.za/" target="_blank">Design Team </a>– lovely colours, modern African imagery.<br />
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Then stunning mohair weaves and dyes from <a href="http://www.hinterveld.com/" target="_blank">Hinterveld</a> in the Eastern Cape – soft 75% mohair. My SIL fell in love with a rich blue blanket, tie dyed with a ripple pattern and one of a kind that was on sale having been made as a private label for a company that never took it up.<br />
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<a href="http://toucheefeelee.net/" target="_blank">Touchee Feelee</a>’s stunning hand-painted images digitally printed on to top quality fabric really stood out, even among a sea of other cushion and fabric creations. <br />
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Then I came across a project I’ve been reading about online recently– the <a href="http://ecobrickexchange.wix.com/ecobrickexchange#" target="_blank">EcoBrick Exchange</a>, who are aiming to build a school in the Eastern Cape with their stunningly simple idea of combining recycling and sustainable building by using plastic soda bottles stuffed full of non-recyclable inorganic waste, as building materials. They are also making shelves, furniture and all sorts from these free building blocks and need more sustained funding and support to get their school completed. <br />
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And I was in awe of this floating ceiling of books at the Book Exchange, which is raising funds by selling and accepting donations of pre-loved books to provide a library for a local primary school.<br />
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Perhaps my favourite single piece of the day, because its concept to me encompasses life the universe and everything, was this turned wood potjie pot sculpture. The potjie pot is such an iconic South African everyday item and here it is an exact replica made in wood, but if you look inside there’s an astronaut floating in space in the base and tiny cave paintings all the way around. It’s called FuturePast by Mlonolozi Hempe and Atang Tshikare. The photos really don't do it justice or show the tactile nature of the wood grain - I just loved it. More about the collaboration and better photos of the piece <a href="http://10and5.com/2015/02/19/imbadu-collective-a-series-of-collaborations-that-are-bridging-mediums/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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A story all by itself is the <a href="http://www.dreamsforafrica.org.za/projects.html" target="_blank">Dreams for Africa Chair</a>. A true icon, this is a chair that has travelled and been photographed with all sort of famous people and ordinary people all round the world. Created by beading project Woza Moya, it developed wings and an independent spirit of its own and now, after being an ambassador for South Africa for several years, it has been purchased by a collector who will give it an honourable place to rest its wings. We talked for ages to Paula Thomson, who was the project co-ordinator and the chair's guardian, and there is something of the mythical and other worldly about the whole story.<br />
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The last bead that shines brightly came from <a href="http://www.monkeybiz.co.za/" target="_blank">Monkeybiz .</a> Last year’s Design Indaba brought them to the attention of the Haas Brothers which has culminated in the <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.com/2015/02/monkeybiz-and-haas-brothers.html" target="_blank">dynamic collaboration</a> at GUILD that I wrote about in my last post. We chatted to Joan Krupp, who was bubbling with energy after a visit to the stand from <a href="http://www.designindaba.com/profiles/rosita-missoni" target="_blank">Rosita Missoni</a>, who at 84 is still full of energy and had just given an inspiring talk at the DI Conference. The dynamic founder of Italian fashion and design company Missoni was comparing the intricate bead designs of Monkeybiz lions and animals to the knitwear patterns that made Missoni’s name and was really taken with the Monkeybiz menagerie.<br />
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So exciting to feel that Cape Town is attracting international figures of this stature – it really is a world design capital in fact as well as name!<br />
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Tomorrow, Sunday 1st March is the last day of <a href="http://www.designindaba.com/expo" target="_blank">Design Indaba Expo</a>, so if you're in Cape Town get along to the CTICC. You'll make a thousand discoveries, probably all different from mine and come away dazzled with beauty and colour.<br />
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<br />Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-87471726559575309242015-02-23T10:03:00.000+02:002015-02-26T15:48:00.282+02:00Monkeybiz and Haas Brothers Collaboration in Cape Town<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Cape Town is a happening place for design and craft. Not for nothing was it Design Capital of the Year last year, which for me culminated in the <a href="http://elledecoration.co.za/make-it-new/" target="_blank">Make It New</a> exhibition, where beading, recycled crafts, ceramics and sculpture rubbed shoulders with cutting edge furniture and fabric design. Now we’re all looking forward to seeing what’s in store for us at <a href="http://www.designindaba.com/expo" target="_blank">Design Indaba Expo</a> and the GUILD <a href="http://www.guilddesignfair.com/" target="_blank">international design fair</a> both starting this week in Cape Town.<br />
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I was asked to write a preview article for a Cape Town Sunday supplement interviewing a few of the exhibitors, which came out yesterday. There wasn’t nearly enough space to include the full story that Kate Carlyle of <a href="http://www.monkeybiz.co.za/" target="_blank">Monkeybiz</a> told me about their exciting work and I agonised all the while as I cut it to the essence. So I thought it would be great to share it with you whole and uncut here.<br />
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Monkeybiz have been working in collaboration with cutting edge LA designers <a href="http://www.thehaasbrothers.com/" target="_blank">The Haas Brothers</a> on some fabulously funky creature creations for GUILD, which opens 25th Feb till 1st March. Over to Kate to hear more about it:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtHe_6Tsm8PZG_fVAmsCoVXuMM-Pep1920jR7OSXvXrn8J8n1t7ZsOE3iFCDzhjY-b_LCNMzovAnh8f0pUEx09P83bhde-Kh1O-5ZK2TLOjDIrpA1XIlnvwUfD4d8tCyz1Ixx/s1600/Final+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtHe_6Tsm8PZG_fVAmsCoVXuMM-Pep1920jR7OSXvXrn8J8n1t7ZsOE3iFCDzhjY-b_LCNMzovAnh8f0pUEx09P83bhde-Kh1O-5ZK2TLOjDIrpA1XIlnvwUfD4d8tCyz1Ixx/s1600/Final+7.jpg" height="505" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>A Monkeybiz bead AFREAKS creation</i></span></td></tr>
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Monkeybiz was born in 2000 with the goals of alleviating poverty and empowering women to become breadwinners within their communities, to revive the art of beadwork bringing back the traditional method and contemporising design and colour, and the third goal has been to provide a platform for beaders to become more than crafters and enter the realm of the individual ranked artist.<br />
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<i>Tell us about your collaboration with the Haas brothers for GUILD 2015. What was the aim for this project? </i><br />
We met Simon and Nikolai Haas at the Design Indaba Expo 2014 when they were exhibiting at Guild. Our first encounter was when they came to our stand and were excited and blown away by the Monkeybiz story, our colours, designs and unique pieces. Simon and Niki are amazing artists who find inspiration in the smallest detail and managed to see great potential for a collaboration with Monkeybiz.<br />
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The aim, certainly for Monkeybiz, in working with The Haas Bothers has been to stretch and extend our capabilities and potentials, to use techniques and methods learnt in workshops from visiting artists, and to move from the craft -only world into the Art realm. Monkeybiz is honoured to work with such phenomenal, generous and stimulating mentors as Simon and Niki, who have been incredible with their openness and extensive knowledge. This is the first major collaboration with such prestigious artists where Monkeybiz has been given the opportunity to launch their talented beaders.<br />
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The birth of the Haas SISTAS became a reality!!<br />
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<i>How long have you been working on it? What was the process? </i><br />
We first made contact with Nikolai and Simon Haas in February 2014, when the conversation started on the collaboration. In July we were sent drawings and had our first major conversation on really getting down and dirty. There was no particular format we could follow as the works are weird , crazy, fantastical, amusing pieces created with humour and imagination…they are called AFREAKS…Starting with a drawing we had to make frames and just start! ….the process was completely collaborative…with almost daily phone calls and photographs of our progress, so that the Brothers could give us their commentary and feedback. Amazingly, they have been so generous to allow the Haas Sistas to use their own imaginations and interpretations to blossom through the work.<br />
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<i>Did your beaders develop new styles or techniques for this collaboration? How much creative input did they have?</i><br />
Serendipitously 2014 was the year of Monkeybiz workshops for the 450 beaders we have on our register! And two of these workshops given by two world renowned beaders were about 3D beading. Monkeybiz has revived the art of beadwork in South Africa, where we have taken the traditional form of beading which is a flat beading technique and given it 3D form. BUT with the workshops we learnt to bead making shapes and forms with no armatures, only with the strength of the bead and thread.<br />
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This new collaboration has extended this process to a new level ….Together with the patterns and mathematical brain of Nikolai Haas, shapes have exploded forth, and confidence for many “mistakes” have given the pieces movement and texture. The Haas Brothers have joined hands with the Haas Sistas and allowed an enormous amount of creative input from each artist with very few limitations.<br />
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<i>How did your two very different design sensibilities work together? </i><br />
Because of the mindfulness of Simon and Nikolai of the personal lives of each Sista and the particular specialities and techniques of every person, a great understanding was born for all of us. As the Haas Sistas we were excited to stretch our imaginations and try the New, the Odd, the wonderful…it has been very liberating<br />
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<i>Is this a one-off project or are there plans for the future?</i><br />
No we all have BIG PLANS for the future<br />
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<i>You are also exhibiting at the Design Indaba Expo. What can visitors look forward to seeing there?</i><br />
At the Design Indaba we will be introducing our new range of animals and creatures, Poodles, Dachshunds, Baboons and Porcupines….in stunning new colours and designs………..<br />
The Haas Brother collaboration will be exhibited at the same time through Guild ….incredible and exciting times.<br />
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What are you waiting for?! If you're in Cape Town go and see for yourself!<br />
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<br />
<a href="http://www.guilddesignfair.com/" target="_blank">GUILD International Design Fair</a><br />
The Lookout, cnr Granger Bay Boulevard and Dock Rd, V&A Waterfront.<br />
Wed 25th Feb-Sunday 1st March<br />
R80<br />
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<a href="http://www.designindaba.com/expo" target="_blank">Design Indaba Expo</a><br />
CTICC<br />
27th Feb-1st March<br />
R80 <br />
And here's an interview with the Haas Brothers about the project.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/FNoF4wEQNac" width="420"></iframe>
<br />
Free Art and Design Week Shuttle<br />
Travel easily between CTICC and the GUILD Design Fair via the VandA Waterfront on a free shuttle, every 30 minutes from 10h30 till 19h30. 26th Feb-1st March.<br />
<br />Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-32756121609016366322015-02-12T15:01:00.002+02:002015-02-12T15:01:36.146+02:00Ginger Nuts Recipe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There’s something about ginger nuts. Nowhere near as glamorous as a chocolate biscuit, lacking the festive credentials of shortbread or the kid-appeal of Zoo biscuits, the ginger nut has nevertheless held its own in the biscuit barrel for more than 100 years, sneaking into the shopping basket even when times are tough and choccy biccies beyond the budget.<br />
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It’s plain enough to be an everyday, morning cup of tea dunking biscuit, perhaps that’s its secret, and its humble unassuming demeanour conceals a spicy punch to the palate. <br />
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Recently I was feeling restless, wanting to bake something different, but nothing too fancy. Ginger was the flavour on my mind, and riffling through my recipe books I came across Delia Smith’s recipe for Ginger Nuts. Instant decision. No weird ingredients, all pantry staples and easy to throw together.<br />
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I did wonder how close they’d be to the classic packet ginger nut, but they came out winners all round. Same crackle creviced top, good crunchy bite, dunk well and taste every bit as gingery.<br />
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The best thing is that being home-made they don’t have any hidden ‘bad’ ingredients – no e-numbers or questionable fats And the other best thing is that they are far more substantial and satisfying than a packet biscuit, so you don’t end up scoffing half the packet in one sitting.<br />
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I took one look at the recipe and doubled up the ingredients, so if you don’t have a hungry flock of starlings to feed and are restrained in your ginger nut consumption feel free to halve the quantities back again.<br />
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<b>Ginger Nuts recipe</b><br />
220g / 8oz plain flour<br />
2 teaspoons baking powder<br />
2 teaspoons bicarbonate of soda (baking soda)<br />
2 rounded teaspoons ground ginger<br />
80g / 3oz brown or white sugar<br />
100g / 4oz butter<br />
4 tablespoons golden syrup<br />
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Oven 190C / 375F<br />
2 greased baking trays<br />
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Makes about 32 biscuits<br />
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Sift together all the dry ingredients (flour, baking powder, bicarb, ginger, sugar).<br />
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Rub in the butter (doesn’t matter if it is soft or hard really, we’re not talking pastry here!)<br />
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Mix in the golden syrup and keep mixing until it comes together in a sticky dough.<br />
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Form the dough into small balls (the usual walnut size is about right – around 32 in all from this quantity)<br />
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Place the balls well spaced on the greased tray. Flatten slightly with a wooden spoon.<br />
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Bake for 10-15 minutes until they are a dark gold and firm at the edges. They will firm up more as they cool.<br />
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Leave to cool on tray for about 10 minutes then move to a wire rack to finish cooling.<br />
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Don’t eat them all at once, as they keep nicely in an airtight tin!<br />
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P.S. I'm just about to bake yet another batch this afternoon. Yesterday after school a daughter dipped her hand into the biscuit barrel and her face fell as it came out empty. So we need a constant supply in the house from now on to avoid those after school blues.Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-16050553257469104582014-12-29T17:48:00.000+02:002014-12-29T17:49:53.419+02:00A Happy Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Christmas approached in an accelerating rush of presents not yet, bought, not yet made, not yet wrapped; it caught the whole family wrong footed this year, even Middle Daughter, who usually starts making presents in October, was caught short by the reality of high school with exams and projects, and only started making her presents once school holidays kicked in – despite this she was ahead of the rest of us.<br />
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Youngest came to me the day before Christmas Eve and stated decisively that she needed go to the <a href="http://www.magicminerals.co.za/index.html" target="_blank">crystal shop</a> in a tone that allowed for no negotiation ... so we created a window among the mad rush of Christmas Eve cooking and sped down the road to our nearby village of Philadelphia, where present salvation is to be found in the form of a glittering treasure chest of semi-precious stones, crystals, pretty jewellery, clothes, enough to solve any gift dilemma, as long as you don’t have teenage boys on your list (she had made fudge for her brother so that was OK).<br />
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Getting our tree is a whole family affair. We usually bring it in on the Sunday before Christmas Day – the Saturday is taken up with our summer festival and my SIL works in the week and is an enthusiastic tree-chooser and cutter so it would be unthinkable to do it without her.<br />
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This year she was on leave so we suggested getting the tree the week before to have it in time for the festival, but with one thing and other it didn’t happen, so the tradition of the Sunday before Christmas held true (to Middle Daughter’s secret relief – a traditionalist at heart).<br />
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This year’s tree was the one SIL had picked out already, tall and elegant it only just passed the raised stick test for height (any taller than that and even our ceiling is challenged). Carried home in triumph and set up in a tub full of bricks, roped to the wall and adjusted for uprightness, then it is over to me for the putting on of lights. This brings out the most irritable side of me, so don’t get in my way when I’m unwinding strings of lights from their coat-hangers, clambering up ladders and teetering there with broom outstretched to get them perfectly wound around the topmost branches.<br />
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Middle daughter is looking poised to take over these duties any time I bow out and did a fine job with getting the tinsel up high, she and Youngest doing most of the putting up of decorations. Son put up those ornaments nominally his, and disappeared back to a gaming conversation with friends on his computer.<br />
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Then Monday and Tuesday were both shopping days – husband having hurt
his back carrying in the tree, so I did his share of driving around
looking for wish list items as well as my own. I felt like a cave
dweller out foraging all day for rare and desirable pieces of rock or
berries, as I shuttled from specialist computer shop in the back streets
to mega-store and shopping mall, eventually staggering home with a few
hard-won prizes to go under the tree.<br />
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Apart from the brief foray to the crystal shop, Christmas Eve was spent in the kitchen, steaming up as the gammon simmered for slow hours, red onion marmalade for gifts cooked down, and building up the stripes of different colours in the jam-jar jellies, to the sound-track of Christmas carols and the despairing cries of kids trying to finish off and wrap their presents. By 4.30 when I had to ferry the girls down to take part in the Christmas play at Camphill, I hadn’t wrapped a single present, but other than that everything was ready.<br />
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Almost time to relax. <br />
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The play over, girls exchanged their gifts with their friends, and then had to be torn away from them and back to a quick supper and family Christmas carols, when we always have to sing our way through the entire book of carols. This left all the wrapping to be done from 9pm onwards, including Father Christmas’ wrapping (he needs so much help these days), so it was after 11 before the kids were quiet enough for us to at least pretend they were asleep and stuff their stockings, which they still insist on hanging at the end of their beds. And then collapse on the sofa in a daze of tinsel and sellotape.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The view from the sofa</i></span><i> at almost midnight</i></td></tr>
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Then the day dawns early, and stockings are opened, attended by Bracken and including a flurry of messaging with friends... now we know we have teenagers.<br />
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It turns out to be one of those precious cool Christmas Days, overcast with
occasional showers of fine rain, this is a good thing in the middle of a
hot dry South African summer, meaning we don’t have to do any watering, and that we can have the children’s favourite roast potatoes and veggies
to accompany the turkey and gammon, instead of boring old salads.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">My mother and the girls on Christmas morning, and George smiling too!</span></i></td></tr>
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And this year our lunch went smoothly, without last year’s drama of <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.com/2013/12/christmas-tree-lights-candles-and.html" target="_blank">fire fighting</a>, only enlivened by the sighting of a large cobra beside the
bunny cage, which sent the snake catchers out in force just before the
food was on the table. The snake went off and hid, was sighted again on
Boxing Day and we’re still checking the bunnies regularly to make sure
there are two of them.<br />
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Crackers, too much pudding, a rustle of wrapping paper, movies and finding room for Christmas cake at supper time, family Christmasses at home are a treasured part of our family recipe book.<br />
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Happy Christmas, Everyone! (especially Marcheline, who I know is reading, because she comments even if I haven't posted anything, just to keep me on my blogging toes :) )<br />
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Wishing you all a wonderful year ahead full of much joy, love and laughter.<br />
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<br />Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-62426777922075343802014-11-29T17:04:00.000+02:002014-11-29T17:04:08.684+02:00Jam in the Morning<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The kids leave for school in a flurry of lunch bags and ten-ton rucksacks, piling into my sister-in-law’s little red car at seven in the morning. There’s a momentary lull. I finish my cup of tea, sometimes I haven’t had my own breakfast yet, but then there is another tug of demand. George is patiently waiting for his walk, lying out on the brick path. His eyes are focused on my movements through the doorway. If I don’t seem to be coming soon enough, he’ll be at my side with a plaintive whine, then bound to the door again if I move half an inch in that direction.<br />
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At this time of year I take my basket with me every day. Our walk around the circular dirt road takes us past the veggie garden and the orchard, and there is always something in urgent need of picking.We had so many carrots last month that I picked 20 kilos and took them down to sell at <a href="http://www.camphill.org.za/market" target="_blank">Camphill market</a>. We were giving them away to friends, juicing them like crazy and eating them at every meal. Now we're down to just a few baby carrots, but have gallons of green beans, sacks of spinach, loads of leeks, and the courgettes have just started producing, so I have to pick them every morning otherwise they seem to turn into marrows overnight.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The veggie garden is currently full of spinach, leeks, carrots, green beans and a ton of onions - such a blessing!</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRpoCeZPp64fWPY8k6sBON0hrJmlKSqVWPUmO9HL4pErAZNW7EmDlVsgt4Owy1uwQxaJtQfDxzst7cyY04d9imv4vmHZaQODRjJgkXAxBANYrUrzRk6D_h37eMYTjm0ApmBX9y/s1600/plum-tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRpoCeZPp64fWPY8k6sBON0hrJmlKSqVWPUmO9HL4pErAZNW7EmDlVsgt4Owy1uwQxaJtQfDxzst7cyY04d9imv4vmHZaQODRjJgkXAxBANYrUrzRk6D_h37eMYTjm0ApmBX9y/s1600/plum-tree.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>We had tearing winds just when the plums came ripe, so I was picking up wind-falls every morning and evening.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVmX_yrQ90WiCKjK73_IVqhM3qxlLbqsipLa2sMKuicMvHiPNBaxFkrUbeHVLyGj5S70nM4BMPh-dtm65SYluFNNkLoRmF2Jr-54p-flmea-HXjEAAco3BzHBNzOZ8f2coUQa/s1600/fruit+harvest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVmX_yrQ90WiCKjK73_IVqhM3qxlLbqsipLa2sMKuicMvHiPNBaxFkrUbeHVLyGj5S70nM4BMPh-dtm65SYluFNNkLoRmF2Jr-54p-flmea-HXjEAAco3BzHBNzOZ8f2coUQa/s1600/fruit+harvest.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>George keeps busy while I pick, chasing off the guinea fowl and peacocks</i>.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKMVzNrkvTN_FH5KShEr9cNVc6k-fOAP4SW8i7606usWo_xEN9Wt9qTYSXXCNQP3XQttXHFsj661lc-6L44mVbEvEdDMm1f-dwlJE5MTrfkV21YndrZpPf9U2fmxbTWhPML9nK/s1600/plums.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKMVzNrkvTN_FH5KShEr9cNVc6k-fOAP4SW8i7606usWo_xEN9Wt9qTYSXXCNQP3XQttXHFsj661lc-6L44mVbEvEdDMm1f-dwlJE5MTrfkV21YndrZpPf9U2fmxbTWhPML9nK/s1600/plums.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The plums ripen within a day to dark purple and dripping with juice</i></span></td></tr>
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This last two weeks we’ve had an entire tree of plums all coming ripe in one week. At the same time as the apricots, which all had to be stripped from the tree and jammed with great urgency, as they’d been ‘stung’ by fruit flies. So every morning I’ve been making jam, great pots of it, sometimes two, and every evening I’ve been preparing the next lot of fruit for the next lot of jam.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNBbaJYDsZbo5VDfMPyapABI2FG-pM0Owp2oAZqaORrnhFV1cNXFqJF7wALIDfdUCn9Jt_tSFm21I1DpvmvIk9fsGcGQy9yMvrSPt6GUtEizm0J5F2NEK_6m6tSihnzA-vH69O/s1600/strawberries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNBbaJYDsZbo5VDfMPyapABI2FG-pM0Owp2oAZqaORrnhFV1cNXFqJF7wALIDfdUCn9Jt_tSFm21I1DpvmvIk9fsGcGQy9yMvrSPt6GUtEizm0J5F2NEK_6m6tSihnzA-vH69O/s1600/strawberries.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Part of today's strawberry harvest</i></span></td></tr>
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We’ve got enough plum and apricot jam now for the year, but our strawberry crop has been woefully late and sparse. Only three pots of strawberry jam sit on the shelf, swamped by an ocean of plum and apricot. But finally the berries are getting going and I picked four ice cream containers of berries first thing this morning. Enough for several pots of jam, for my sister-in-law to make strawberry ice-cream, and to have some left over to eat. Phew – our jam self-sufficiency is safe for another year!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUoTMdzQrl7o7MGFjPPolzVpw4VrlStgZZ-hjoiNnq9Ja8J7m3a5QnBzwDl4O8qitz3uBo0X0UTO_9SUUkOMVC-Kcpg7HNh59ehXlaM7TDhp10MtQi1TLEAAuBVmwztChauv_n/s1600/apricot-jam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUoTMdzQrl7o7MGFjPPolzVpw4VrlStgZZ-hjoiNnq9Ja8J7m3a5QnBzwDl4O8qitz3uBo0X0UTO_9SUUkOMVC-Kcpg7HNh59ehXlaM7TDhp10MtQi1TLEAAuBVmwztChauv_n/s1600/apricot-jam.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Apricots on the way to jammy deliciousness</i></span></td></tr>
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The jam isn’t the only reason I’ve been neglecting my blog. I had a long succession of writing deadlines through September and October. Great for my work, not so great for me wanting to sit at the computer and write some more in my free time. So there were a whole load of things I was going to write about here, now just a distant memory and a handful of photos on Facebook: our spring festival, a visit to the <a href="http://www.ozcf.co.za/market-day/" target="_blank">Oranjezicht City farm market</a>, the <a href="http://ccdi.org.za/media-room/in-the-news/make-it-new-exhibition-gets-extended-run" target="_blank">Make It New exhibition</a> of Western Cape design and craft, project managed by my sister-in-law that I helped behind the scenes with, and then there was the <a href="http://www.camphill.org.za/news/camphill-music-festival-rocked" target="_blank">Camphill Music festival</a> with Freshly Ground playing live just down the road from us. All these things deserved a post all to themselves.<br />
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Maybe they’ll get one, after I’ve finished making jam, baking Christmas cakes and have survived the end of term whirlwind of end of exam parties, prize-givings, concerts and all that malarkey. Real life is taking over here and not leaving me enough time for my virtual reality! Anyway, <a href="http://mrssplapthing.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Marcheline</a>, I’m still alive and well, if slightly sticky and enveloped in a veil of jam fumes!<br />
<br />Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-88188272028915598932014-09-10T11:34:00.000+02:002014-09-10T11:34:46.623+02:00La MouetteWe don’t get out much. At least not if getting out means restaurants, city life, happening events and all that jazz. Living on a farm means that most of our getting out is looking at sunsets or moonrises, walking dogs, going to the market, or if we’re very lucky the razzmatazz comes to us. I’m thinking of the <a href="http://www.camphill.org.za/news/freshly-ground-at-our-music-festival" target="_blank">music festival</a> at Camphill Village in two weeks where <a href="http://www.freshlyground.com/" target="_blank">Freshly Ground</a> are coming to play, almost on our doorstep and we are really looking forward to it. But every now and again I come across somewhere in town that niggles at me until we just have to go. La Mouette in Sea Point was one of those places that grabbed me from the first time I read through one of their <a href="http://lamouette-restaurant.co.za/2014/08/spring-tasting-menu-2/" target="_blank">tasting menus</a>.<br />
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Chef Henry Vigar opened La Mouette in 2010 with his wife Mari and business partner Gerrit Bruwer. Between them they have created a wonderful restaurant. It manages to be comfortably stylish without being pretentious, the atmosphere is cosy, friendly and relaxed, and the food? Well the food is what I was there for and it lived up to my expectations and beyond, when we went there a couple of weeks ago with friends to celebrate my birthday.<br />
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The menu looks straightforward, no flights of fancy in naming dishes: mushroom soup, beetroot salad, fish pie, crispy pork cheeks, roast chicken, mushrooms on toast, waldorf salad, rhubarb crumble. But the flights of fancy are in the myriad pops of flavour in every dish, keeping us engaged and full of anticipation as each new dish was presented. I can’t remember another meal where I have had such a voyage of flavour exploration and have finished the meal replete and satisfied, without a trace of that overfull feeling that too often follows a celebratory dinner. Contemporary with French and South African influences, Henry is big on
authentic seasonal flavours, has just enough fancy twists to make
things sing without going overboard, and keeps the surprises coming
course after course.<br />
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First off a plate of delectable breads, from miniature vetkoek to small cheese muffins along with dabs of aioli and dips. Then the mushroom soup came along, in the form of an abstract arrangement of cheese and truffle croquette, cubes of mushroom jelly, parmesan crust arranged in the bowl. At the table the soup itself was poured over, so that every spoonful came with a different zazz of extra flavour. Next up a beetroot salad, with a gorgeous peppery goats cheese, candied pecans, sumac and a hazelnut dressing.<br />
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The next course was a choice and of course we made sure that between us we chose both options so that we could taste them all (images above). I'd never order pork cheeks as a main dish, but these little cubes of crispiness were so succulent and delicious that I was left wanting more, and the crackling really did crackle. It came with a celeriac puree, pickled apple and wholegrain mustard. The other option was 'fish pie' on a mustard mash with a mussel, a sea foam and a leek and potato sauce, also melt in the mouth delish <br />
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More choices to be made ( images below): mushrooms on toast proved to involve a rich French toast and a truffle sauce over a mushroom ragout together with Bearnaise sauce and parmesan, stunning winter velvety flavour; the roasted chicken was light and delicate with Asian flavours in the pot sticker, pickled shitake, spicy butternut puree and coconut foam.<br />
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Almost there and we weren't in the least flagging, just wishing this would go on forever! A fresh sweet savoury bridge in this 'waldorf salad' made up of celery pannacotta with a sweet apple granita and raisin puree. And deconstructed rhubarb crumble was the finale, a base of almond crumble with rhubarb compote and a rhubarb and custard ice cream.<br />
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I'd love to go back... well pretty much every month, as the tasting menu changes regularly, but especially in summer, as the restaurant is set back from the busy Sea Point street with a gorgeous big courtyard, trees and of course a fountain, so it feels like a whole other world. The winter atmosphere was also lovely with log fires and several separate rooms in the original old building, so that it never felt crowded even though it was a busy Saturday night.<br />
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Our winter tasting menu was R195 per person (for the rest of the year the usual price is R295). One of us also had the wine pairings with the menu which was R335.<br />
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La Mouette Restaurant. <br />
Tel 021 433 0856. <br />
78 Regent Road, Sea Point, Cape Town. <br />
<a href="http://www.lamouette.co.za/">www.lamouette.co.za</a><br />
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<i>Disclosure: We paid in full for our meal. No review was asked or paid for and all opinions are my own.</i>Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-80787916417564521302014-08-08T16:58:00.002+02:002014-08-08T16:58:28.250+02:00Summer Holiday in Cornwall<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Cornwall has its own magic. Whether it’s the nostalgia of endless summer holidays, the ancient legends of King Arthur or the fabled light and skies that always attracted artists to St Ives, there’s an air apart about Cornwall.<br />
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Driving down from Somerset, through Devon, all sleepy lush lanes, verdant hedgerows and trees, trees, trees, there’s a point when the rolling hills open up to brisk sea winds, when solitary wind turbines dot across the landscape and villages are built from stoic grey stone to withstand winter storms. <br />
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For some reason we never came west on childhood holidays in my family. Grandparents were in Edinburgh and Norfolk, and it was always north and east on day long car journeys, testing parents’ patience with the eternal refrain of ‘how many more miles?’ So heading there with our combined families wasn’t a nostalgic return but rather a new discovery for my brother and I, taking our kids there for some bucket and spading and family togetherness.<br />
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We were near Polzeath in a big house with ample room for us all up on a hill above the Camel estuary. There were several beaches within walking distance (even for my three year old niece though she demanded a shoulder ride every now and then) and it was a wonderful novelty for our farm kids to be able to get about on foot.<br />
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I loved the lanes edged by dry stone walls overgrown with flowers, the
contrast between the vivid green of the hills and lanes and the steely
grey of the local slate, the layers of history that are present
everywhere.<br />
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The big painterly skies are a common thread with South Africa, but here they were delicate cloudscapes, as the weather blew hot and cold on us, a rainstorm hurtling across the horizon at lunch time, brilliant sunshine for an evening walk.<br />
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And we had the kind of weather when you put extra clothes on to go to the beach, but go anyway, only the adventurous going right in for a swim, the rest paddling and defying the waves with sand fortifications and spades.<br />
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Another short diversion on the way to the beach at Daymer Bay on the
River Camel estuary was to St Enodoc’s church with its appealingly
crooked spire and green grassy churchyard.<br />
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Apparently it was almost buried by the sand dunes for a couple of centuries before being excavated again in the mid 19th century. There’s a John Betjeman poem about Trebetherick that about sums up the kids on holiday feel of this particular corner of Cornwall. <a href="http://www.johnbetjeman.com/trebetherick.html">http://www.johnbetjeman.com/trebetherick.html</a><br />
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Four nights was all too short, we could have spent another week or two there.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Girls at Polzeath beach more interested in observing stranded jelly fish than surfing</i></span>.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The lane leading down to the beach at Daymer Bay </i></span></td></tr>
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We stayed in <a href="http://www.evergreenlodgecornwall.com/" target="_blank">Evergreen Lodge</a>, which is perfect for two families or a group of friends - lots of space, big kitchen, long tables, big sofas and a nice enclosed garden. Hope we can go back there one day!Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-4901001413490721252014-08-05T13:19:00.000+02:002014-08-05T16:34:57.922+02:00England and TintagelWe’re been back home long enough that England and summer seem a distant memory. We’ve acclimatised back to winter rains, winter sunshine and chilly nights, got used to school mornings of getting up in the dark and leaving before sunrise. There’s been a loss in the family, my husband’s oldest brother, who after a long degenerative illness was taken by a short sharp bout of pneumonia. Most of the family were luckily able to spend time with him before he went and they will all be together next week for his memorial service. <br />
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It’s a light relief from sadness to be able to go back over the photos from our holiday, revisit the time spent with my family, getting to know my nieces and sinking into the soft pillow of English countryside, hedgerows tall and summer green, trees more than I ever remember, hills rolling, lanes winding, West Country accent soft and unhurried to my ears, now re-tuned to a South African wave-length.<br />
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The kids got a highly skewed view of England, all idyllic Somerset countryside, Cornish beaches and historic houses. No cities, no malls, no grim industrial landscapes. So if they get a shock when they encounter London as young adults, it will be all the fault of an unashamedly rural family holiday taken at an impressionable age!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The Cornish stone walls of the ruined castle at Tintagel</i></span></td></tr>
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There were so many beautiful days that can’t all be crammed into one post, so maybe I’ll spread them out and start off with our visit to <a href="http://www.english-heritage.org.uk/daysout/properties/tintagel-castle/" target="_blank">Tintagel</a> in Cornwall. The craggy remains of an ancient castle perched high on a headland, it’s a romantic enough spot already, but at some stage someone decided it needed an extra dash of PR spin. To draw the crowds, a legendary connection to King Arthur has been inflated out of very little – supposedly he was conceived there. – and you can now buy plastic Excaliburs outside every little shop in the village, buy Merlin crystals and goodness knows what else. However much of a grockle (tourist) trap the village is, the castle itself is unspoilt, with dramatic views down the Cornish coastline and you can see why it was such a fantastic stronghold over the centuries – no-one would be able to creep up on you unawares here.<br />
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A further reason that Tintagel repels invaders of sedentary coach parties... the steep and narrow climb to the castle gate is enough to challenge anyone but a mountain goat. So though there were plenty of visitors when we were there, it never felt crowded and there is the whole headland to spread out onto once you’re up.<br />
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Of course once we were up there we realised that it was the perfect place for a picnic and that we should have grabbed some Cornish pasties at the ‘Genuine Cornish Pasty’ shop in the village and hauled them up with us. We managed to keep the kids going on the secret stash of mint imperials in my bag, long enough to appreciate the views, give parents heart failure by peering over the edge, investigating wells and walls and wildflowers.<br />
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When the brisk breeze became a little chillsome, we made our way back down the precipitous path, passed a whole lot more people struggling up and went down on to the beach to see the caves, perfect for smugglers.<br />
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And then there was a less thrilling walk back up to the village. The youngest member of the party got a lift up in the Landrover, which ferries the exhausted back up the road. The pasties once I'd queued for them, were huge, tasty and sustaining, even if they were crimped on top, which the internet has assured me was not a genuine Cornish habit but a Devon interpretation, and not one child balked at eating the swede (must be the only way in the world to make it palatable to kids!). They even said that my attempts at <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.com/2014/05/it-aint-cornish-but-its-pasty.html" target="_blank">Cornish pasties</a> were almost as good as the real thing!<br />
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Then it was back in the van to face the ever windy, motion sickness-inducing lanes and re-join my husband who had stayed home to make the bread, read his book and recover from a dose of flu which had caught up with him after the flight.<br />
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Tintagel is a gorgeous place and well worth a visit if you have strong legs – go in the morning before the crowds arrive and take your pasties and picnic up with you!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4SzUrVeeytTvsPe6VnZ923LgSr5ZFT13r82dSncOp5pQrH4XwSqC5km9W33ueErwnf9TUMfv2LeqBPsjZP5gvzvLE-2vkZVPZyhkbtgPioSjzvIpi0OAvbHSbeitEQUT_xM6L/s1600/20140709_122058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4SzUrVeeytTvsPe6VnZ923LgSr5ZFT13r82dSncOp5pQrH4XwSqC5km9W33ueErwnf9TUMfv2LeqBPsjZP5gvzvLE-2vkZVPZyhkbtgPioSjzvIpi0OAvbHSbeitEQUT_xM6L/s1600/20140709_122058.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">The cousins together at Tintagel</span></i></td></tr>
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<br />Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-72769290394811021402014-05-26T16:30:00.000+02:002014-05-26T16:30:38.684+02:00Plain Fruit Cake - No Icing Required<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Is it just me that is fed up with cupcakes surmounted by voluminous froths of icing? Sometimes I feel like the Grinch when I have yet another request for cupcakes at school and I know that mine will be the humble Cinderellas of the parade... in my day (hrmph, bah humbug and all that) they were called fairy cakes and had a thin glaze of glacé icing and some hundreds and thousands sprinkles for decoration. If you were going all out for glamour you could add silver balls or Smarties. While today’s elaborate creations are undeniably beautiful, I find the rich, very sweet icing overwhelming and would rather just eat the cake underneath.<br />
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I’m finding myself more and more attracted by the plain, un-iced cakes of old-fashioned tea-times. Not hotel teas or birthday teas but family weekday ones. The kind of cake that keeps all week in a tin and that you eat in front of the fire with a mug of tea, after having polished off the crumpets dripping with butter. When I was a child and we visited my aunt, there used to be two or three cakes on the go at any one tea-time. Usually a fruit cake, perhaps a ginger one and some sort of light sponge. We’d come in from walking the dogs and tea would be taken along to the sitting room on a trolley to have by the fire: bread and butter first, then a piece of cake or two and then biscuits to fill in any corners. I don’t know how we managed it all, as there would be supper a couple of hours later. Maybe the plethora of cakes was just when family was visiting, but I’m pretty sure that my aunt always had a cake of some description on the go. Here we go with the nostalgic childhood memories, I must be getting old!<br />
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My mum’s old-fashioned <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.com/2013/09/old-fashioned-ginger-cake.html" target="_blank">ginger cake recipe</a> is a good un-fancy cake that lasts for days, and after our Easter <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.com/2014/05/easter-simnel-cake-and-stuff.html" target="_blank">Simnel cake</a> was finished I went looking for a plain fruit cake recipe that would also do as an everyday cake. This Dundee cake recipe fits the bill perfectly. It’s light with a citrus freshness, and improves with keeping a few days. I thought about adding some spices to the mix, but am glad I resisted as the orange and lemon zest is all the flavour you need.<br />
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<b>Dundee Fruit Cake recipe</b><br />
<i>Ingredients</i><br />
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150g/5oz soft butter<br />
150g/5oz caster sugar<br />
3 eggs, beaten<br />
225g/8oz plain flour<br />
1 teaspoon baking powder<br />
450g/1lb fruit cake mix (sultanas, currants, candied peel)<br />
2 tablespoons ground almonds<br />
Grated zest of 1 lemon and 1 orange<br />
50g/2oz whole blanched almonds<br />
2-3 tablespoons milk (if needed)<br />
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20cm/8 inch cake tine, greased and lined<br />
Preheat oven to 150C/300F<br />
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Cream together butter and sugar until light and fluffy.<br />
Add eggs, a little at a time and beat in well.<br />
Sift together flour and baking powder. Carefully fold it into the mixture.<br />
The mixture should now be of a soft, dropping consistency. Add a couple of tablespoons of milk if too stiff and dry.<br />
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Fold in the dried fruit, ground almonds and zest.<br />
Spoon mixture into the lined cake tin and level with the back of a spoon.<br />
Gently place the whole almonds in a circular pattern on the top of the mixture. Avoid pressing down, as the cake will rise up to meet them!<br />
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Bake until the centre is firm and springy and a skewer comes out clean, about 2 hours.<br />
Cool in the tin, then store in an airtight container.<br />
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What about you? Do you have any favourite plain cake recipes to share? Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-31530081758383555602014-05-19T12:56:00.002+02:002014-05-19T12:56:52.679+02:00It Ain’t Cornish, But It’s A Pasty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Cornish pasties are one of those food conundrums. Born as a convenient and rather humble packed lunch for those out working in the fields or mines, with no pretensions to grandeur, they are now a cherished part of the Cornish heritage and guarded by a PGI (Protected Geographical Indication), with heated debate and irate comments lathered around the web under any recipe that dares to call itself a Cornish pasty, if it breaks any one of the number of rules. One of those rules being that it has to be made in Cornwall, I’m putting a disclaimer in right from the start. This is not a recipe for a Cornish pasty. <br />
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I’ve broken too many other rules in creating a tasty version of a pasty anyway; the most important of them is that I’ve used carrot instead of swede – a huge No No among the defenders of the Cornish pasty heritage. In fact I’m wondering if when we visit Cornwall next we’ll be met by a pasty posse at the River Tamar and be refused entry on the grounds of defiling the reputation of the pasty. (Oh and don’t tell anyone Cornish, but I used mince rather than chopped beef skirt here, because it’s easier and cheaper and after all I’m making a meal for the family here, not re-enacting a historical event.)<br />
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Another hotly-defended rule that I’ve kept to, is that the pasty should be crimped along the side, not over the top (which is apparently a habit of those in the next county along, Devon). If you want to adapt this recipe to make the <a href="http://www.cornishpastyassociation.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/recipe.pdf" target="_blank">genuine article</a>, you’ll need to use finely sliced beef skirt and swede, rather than mince and carrots, then, as long as you are in Cornwall at the time, you may be justified in calling it a Cornish pasty!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio2ErWt03MLwrPXDdnJ6V1Dvg4XaJ0BLQp4KkpaV1qUqq2e7p_7X9XuUmtL0PoYR0wVBwWtDBDkz7iXP5sObXtw7MxVW6Vl12AsnXzZpa4uR4XrSf2UE8LNvdWIaC6U5aWMjXB/s1600/IMG_2068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio2ErWt03MLwrPXDdnJ6V1Dvg4XaJ0BLQp4KkpaV1qUqq2e7p_7X9XuUmtL0PoYR0wVBwWtDBDkz7iXP5sObXtw7MxVW6Vl12AsnXzZpa4uR4XrSf2UE8LNvdWIaC6U5aWMjXB/s1600/IMG_2068.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>My latest pasty showing my best efforts at crimping</i></span></td></tr>
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So with all that said, my main aim was to find a pastry recipe that would do the job. It needs to be strong enough to hold the filling and be easily transportable without breaking open, with a hint of a flake for lightness once you bite in. Don’t even think of using puff pastry here though, you want the firmness and crispness of shortcrust. I tried several recipes before coming up with one that I think is just right and my investment in <a href="http://food-and-family.blogspot.com/2014/03/autumn-school-pies-pasties-and-lard.html" target="_blank">really good lard</a> paid off. Now I just need to find a more affordable source of that homely fat and convince the kids that it’s not too gross for words!<br />
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All in all the pasties were a big success with whole family and are a wonderful example of how you don’t need fancy ingredients to make something really scrumptious.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Cornish pasties are a D-shape, crimped at the side. This is my second attempt with rather dodgy crimping!</span></i></td></tr>
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<br />
<b>Not a Cornish Pasty Recipe</b><br />
<i>Ingredients</i><br />
<i>Pastry </i><br />
500g white bread flour<br />
100g lard<br />
45g butter<br />
5g/1 teaspoon salt<br />
175g iced water<br />
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<i>Filling</i><br />
350g beef (mince or finely sliced skirt)<br />
350g potato<br />
200g carrot<br />
200g onion<br />
Salt and pepper<br />
25g butter<br />
Beaten egg to glaze<br />
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Makes 6 pasties<br />
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Rub the lard and butter into the flour until it resembles breadcrumbs. Gradually mix in the cold water and knead until it comes together in a pliable dough. You may need slightly more or less water depending on your flour.<br />
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Roll the pastry into a long cylinder shape and wrap in clingfilm. Chill for at least an hour in the fridge to rest.<br />
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Finely chop the vegetables. I’ve made them into fairly small dice, but the more traditional method is to cut them in thin slices. Whichever you choose they should be small enough to cook through evenly without any pre-cooking.<br />
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Mix the meat with the vegetables and season generously to taste with salt and pepper. There is no other added flavouring so don’t stint here.<br />
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Divide the pastry into six even pieces. Roll each disk out to a circle roughly 22cm/8 inches in diameter.<br />
Divide the filling between them.<br />
On each heap of filling place a generous sliver of butter.<br />
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Use a little of the beaten egg to moisten the edge of the pastry and fold one side over to meet the other.<br />
Press to seal.<br />
Now crimp the edges. Start at one corner and fold the bottom piece over and pinch it together all the way along the edge to make a good seal.<br />
Brush the rest of the beaten egg over each pasty.<br />
Pierce a hole in the top to allow steam to escape<br />
<br />
Bake at 200C/400F for the first 25 minutes, then reduce the heat to 180C/350F for another 25 minutes. Allow to rest for about 5 minutes before serving, as they are hot! Also good eaten cold for picnics and haymaking.<br />
<br />Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-91307355920561998192014-05-09T12:35:00.000+02:002014-05-09T12:35:03.052+02:00Easter, Simnel Cake and Stuff<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg3FEtd0a22u_tezHZ7wLar2LZurkZ1Ph800qhp-2-RPZ6Julgyvj_mMLfDKm22Oh3Y5bpyF5rOO1ABEY9_pcu5LyJ7iDqCXtGtJoL_pHeMgTShfU2gVctLHuu-kehcXWPEt-V/s1600/20140420_180011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg3FEtd0a22u_tezHZ7wLar2LZurkZ1Ph800qhp-2-RPZ6Julgyvj_mMLfDKm22Oh3Y5bpyF5rOO1ABEY9_pcu5LyJ7iDqCXtGtJoL_pHeMgTShfU2gVctLHuu-kehcXWPEt-V/s1600/20140420_180011.jpg" height="320" width="292" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A rather rustic Simnel cake</td></tr>
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Easter is all but a distant memory already, the only witnesses to it actually having happened are the three baskets still overflowing with chocolate eggs in the larder, which have to be shifted off my box of flour and dry ingredients every time I bake. Oh and the Easter trees still dangling decorated blown eggs, even though I told the kids that we’d take them down again the weekend after Easter.<br />
<br />
April has gone by in flurry of life happening too fast. First George had biliary fever, (not unusual for young dogs living on a farm here where ticks are an inescapable part of life, but it can be fatal if you don’t treat it) which luckily we caught early enough for one visit to the vet to cure quickly. Then that was put out of our minds by Middle Daughter getting sick, and staying slightly sick with a low grade fever for over a week. The first visit to our GP/homeopath revealed nothing more than a sore throat, even with blood tests, the second visit with X ray and more blood tests had us despatched post haste to a specialist physician in the hospital. He dictated an overnight stay, as she had an atypical pneumonia, sneakily lurking at the top of one lung where it’s hard to hear. <br />
<br />
Never having been in hospital with any of my children (since Middle Daughter’s fall from a kitchen counter as a 6 week baby, don’t ask! – even more scary than this occasion) it was both an experience I never want to repeat and one that we both found an interesting learning experience. She was feeling tired but not all that sick and was completely stalwart about the horrors of having an IV drip put in, not once but three times, when they couldn’t find a vein that would do; this after undergoing the earlier blood tests, where it took them four goes to get a vein, and two lots of blood type thumb pricking, which seems to be just part of the admissions procedure. There was a whole lot of waiting around, very nice friendly nurses, who got us into a single room, so that I could stay with her, even though she is now old enough to be in the adult ward. Then there was the fun of ordering from the menu for the next day and pretending we were in a posh hotel (for the cost of an overnight stay it certainly felt like we should be!).<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMxA1ShR2Jyxo_UiiRvLR69Bx4bJuwdQVn_tGmVKrPuUNdH8Ysscv9VTZNclKKbNPl2qdkAJOqDxNh5XnWtQqb5TTXqdqUZT-bph8FLnB2U_50kUaeKKLIzbfwnvO8myKMYZtD/s1600/20140410_181141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMxA1ShR2Jyxo_UiiRvLR69Bx4bJuwdQVn_tGmVKrPuUNdH8Ysscv9VTZNclKKbNPl2qdkAJOqDxNh5XnWtQqb5TTXqdqUZT-bph8FLnB2U_50kUaeKKLIzbfwnvO8myKMYZtD/s1600/20140410_181141.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The lunch menu</i></span></td></tr>
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<br />
Luckily our physician was very sympathetic and let us go home the next morning with a huge goodie bag of antibiotics, nebulising capsules and probiotics, and she got progressively better. After another week off school she had recovered enough to gather her Easter bounty of way too many eggs without staggering under the weight of them all! And now she just gets irritated when we check how she’s feeling, as she is completely better, back to school, riding again, as if nothing happened. Thank goodness!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF5QkQLOiOO4dzYtNRbEG3nGvFHyfTtMrMt_kV7LedsvMHv181M0-ok4OfL1cWjDaetU7Pq18cmY7eAL7wroB4d9F-QXfjkxDMvacXDuzzZJE4rlEJCviEpp1UHnRneI3aelKg/s1600/IMG_1981.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF5QkQLOiOO4dzYtNRbEG3nGvFHyfTtMrMt_kV7LedsvMHv181M0-ok4OfL1cWjDaetU7Pq18cmY7eAL7wroB4d9F-QXfjkxDMvacXDuzzZJE4rlEJCviEpp1UHnRneI3aelKg/s1600/IMG_1981.jpg" height="325" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>About to set off on a farm-wide Easter egg hunt</i></span></td></tr>
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We always have a Simnel cake at Easter, with its balls of marzipan enclosing a heap of speckled eggs. It’s a family tradition, one that my mother used to make, though now she says she hasn’t made one for years. My brother in Australia went all nostalgic when he saw my picture of it on Facebook and asked for the recipe, so I’m sharing it here and have promised to make it for him when we meet up in the UK in July at my Mum’s for a family reunion. I always use Delia Smith’s recipe from her Book of Cakes, but over the years I’ve found a couple of little tweaks make a difference, so here is her recipe with my adjustments.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXLLfOnNlM61Dq8bZqyNhQcDKxPTaL5e-IyQW3vd2DymWpwbdjzCH7tQmfUy8_uQgSva8TV5_aH85pdbfiBjFdQU4zykTPEcSYQNm_9AvKnRb9p0IQurxySeQ4ZKwJCaRNMop0/s1600/20140420_180251.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXLLfOnNlM61Dq8bZqyNhQcDKxPTaL5e-IyQW3vd2DymWpwbdjzCH7tQmfUy8_uQgSva8TV5_aH85pdbfiBjFdQU4zykTPEcSYQNm_9AvKnRb9p0IQurxySeQ4ZKwJCaRNMop0/s1600/20140420_180251.jpg" height="320" width="315" /></a></div>
<b>Simnel Cake Recipe</b><br />
<i>Ingredients</i><br />
175g/6oz butter<br />
175g/6oz sugar<br />
3 eggs beaten<br />
500g/18oz mixed dried fruit/fruit cake mix<br />
zest of 1 orange and 1 lemon<br />
225g/8oz plain flour<br />
1 teaspoon baking powder<br />
1 teaspoon mixed spice<br />
3 tablespoons milk<br />
<br />
<i>Marzipan</i><br />
350g/12oz ground almonds<br />
350g/12oz icing sugar sifted<br />
3 egg yolks<br />
1 tablespoon lemon juice<br />
1 tablespoon either brandy or sherry<br />
1 tablespoon apricot jam<br />
1 egg beaten for glaze<br />
<br />
20cm/8inch cake tin lined and greased<br />
Preheat oven to 150˚C 300˚F<br />
<br />
First make the marzipan.<br />
Combine the ground almonds and icing sugar in a bowl and mix well. <br />
Beat the egg yolks with the lemon juice and brandy and mix the liquid into the dry ingredients. <br />
Mix and stir and knead until it all comes together in a pliable ball. <br />
You may need more lemon juice. Try not to overwork it with your hands as this can make the marzipan oily, especially on a hot day. <br />
Divide the ball into three equal parts, wrap in clingfilm and keep cool until needed.<br />
<br />
Now to the cake mixture.<br />
Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. <br />
Beat in the eggs one at a time.<br />
Fold in the dried fruit and orange and lemon zest.<br />
Sift the flour with the mixed spice and the baking powder. <br />
Fold the flour into the mixture, alternating with the milk. You may need another tablespoon of milk if the mixture is too stiff.<br />
Spoon half the cake mixture into the lined cake tin and smooth it out so it is level.<br />
<br />
Roll out one portion of the marzipan to fit the cake tin.<br />
Lay it gently on top of the cake mixture.<br />
Spoon on the other half of the mixture and level it out.<br />
Bake in the centre of the oven for about 2 hours until the centre is firm and springy.<br />
Cool on a wire rack<br />
<br />
When the cake is cool, prepare the rest of the marzipan. <br />
Roll one piece out to fit the top of the cake.<br />
Divide the other piece into twelve and roll into small balls.<br />
Brush the top of the cake with apricot jam.<br />
Lay the circle of marzipan on top and press down gently.<br />
Brush the top with beaten egg.<br />
Make twelve small crosses (arranged like the hours around a clock face) with the point of a knife and fix the balls around the edge of the cake.<br />
Brush them with beaten egg too.<br />
Put the cake under a hot grill for just long enough to toast it to a golden colour, perhaps 5 minutes. Keep an eye on this as it is very easy to go dark tan rather than golden glow(see my picture!)<br />
Cool and store in an airtight tin.<br />
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And just a few pictures of our early morning Easter egg hunt: <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyu2ZxY3vpA2BveWAk0Z76-6Kn7HpXrMK8Rn7rH46nSng6oVyTzuAqEJKwncIUc8FNp9UQ4BI7BW9-gBT3GzVdGiUsgFkx40JQn7WKGZfTiAwBt_fMkINYYwPsHIreGRNiNNcs/s1600/IMG_1983.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyu2ZxY3vpA2BveWAk0Z76-6Kn7HpXrMK8Rn7rH46nSng6oVyTzuAqEJKwncIUc8FNp9UQ4BI7BW9-gBT3GzVdGiUsgFkx40JQn7WKGZfTiAwBt_fMkINYYwPsHIreGRNiNNcs/s1600/IMG_1983.jpg" height="392" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTxzNdmIwubpCLfqS8kSkFKfRQKoE3WicwHhjNuKMhXT1PesA_cSYVUzc3u7dIWz2EtogDKGEdCLfbEdR4CvKzDW6mektyjSulZlrNi0WbUcs8eTG7iB9g0f3jWiovJvfDU8iJ/s1600/IMG_1991.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTxzNdmIwubpCLfqS8kSkFKfRQKoE3WicwHhjNuKMhXT1PesA_cSYVUzc3u7dIWz2EtogDKGEdCLfbEdR4CvKzDW6mektyjSulZlrNi0WbUcs8eTG7iB9g0f3jWiovJvfDU8iJ/s1600/IMG_1991.jpg" height="370" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBn5yUHKb6prBXv1_i0ilQrmdgEcNIHKKHYRZUjSxetn03ehv0TZ_sAD6JoyEy8uVHJRPI3UKeFwKSR8nq9G4Q5LEt2IU_wF9TdZumlAOEiLi-_2oUJ_8kqJLO5WdXMAWmSKZY/s1600/IMG_2043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBn5yUHKb6prBXv1_i0ilQrmdgEcNIHKKHYRZUjSxetn03ehv0TZ_sAD6JoyEy8uVHJRPI3UKeFwKSR8nq9G4Q5LEt2IU_wF9TdZumlAOEiLi-_2oUJ_8kqJLO5WdXMAWmSKZY/s1600/IMG_2043.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The final haul being audited and re-distributed where numbers aren't even.</i></span></td></tr>
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Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-41003182000597099792014-04-14T10:26:00.001+02:002014-04-14T10:26:16.858+02:00Chocolate Makes the World Go Round<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCao94lHoZfxu8Nuy_19lnG3RBrxiFNsx_CrTzGdMEUAvtbozv_D4Wlpk2IlF5NEYOV5vhv0_6HYoZabwpmdYlTMTMqMk7lK7prdKKSB_84M149HC_ZTwwOSWplO21eQomQ-f/s1600/cocoa-beans.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCao94lHoZfxu8Nuy_19lnG3RBrxiFNsx_CrTzGdMEUAvtbozv_D4Wlpk2IlF5NEYOV5vhv0_6HYoZabwpmdYlTMTMqMk7lK7prdKKSB_84M149HC_ZTwwOSWplO21eQomQ-f/s1600/cocoa-beans.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Organic cocoa beans at CocoaFair</span></i></td></tr>
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Or if it doesn’t it certainly makes it a better place. Especially if it is artisan chocolate, made from ethically and organically grown beans. It was a Monday, the start of a short, one-week, pre-Easter school holiday and I decided that this was the perfect ‘take my girls to work with me’ opportunity. I was writing an article on artisan chocolate producers in the Western Cape, and CocoáFair invited me to come and look round. Usually all my kids see of my work is me sitting in front of the computer all day, so what better way to bring the world of writing to life than to see me gathering its raw material, in this case chocolate!<br />
<br />
The first thing to greet us is a warm and velvety smell drifting alluringly up the steps to the doorway. It doesn’t take the glance through the glass walls to a tap splurging a stream of chocolate into a gleaming stainless steel machine to know we’re in the right place. CocoáFair is at the trendy <a href="http://www.theoldbiscuitmill.co.za/" target="_blank">Old Biscuit Mill</a> in Cape Town’s Woodstock, where on Saturdays the Neighbourgoods Market is a bustle of flavour and hipness. On a Monday it is quieter, but there is still quite a vibe going on. The premises is under the old silo and the old grain chutes are incorporated into the decor.<br />
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We are whirled through the chocolate finishing room, through the chilly cooling room and to the start of the process, the inside room where the beans are first transformed into chocolate. Our guide is Marlon, who has been involved in CocoáFair right from the start 4 years ago, acquiring that sixth sense needed to coax the cacao beans to perfection. We meet his babies and his mother-in-law, the shining specialist machines imported from Scotland that are one reason that there are so few artisan bean to bar producers. Besides the fact that the machinery is a huge investment in itself, the level of skill need to roast the beans to the exact point where they are warm and nutty without a shred of bitterness, isn’t something that can be acquired overnight. And that’s only the first stage of the highly skilled operation.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheKGcrmJkztOm9rVGOAYcMxWdm8VhQedrBQLmXTv-6W-W1H24i3WG_6qm_uA9nZS3ZwIwW0S0EHjSf9HPZoypGUpZqredHTEKtWczvHdu4dQR6iJbMYUrRP0gYYZqQGGuGLSWX/s1600/Cocoafair-chocolate-tour.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheKGcrmJkztOm9rVGOAYcMxWdm8VhQedrBQLmXTv-6W-W1H24i3WG_6qm_uA9nZS3ZwIwW0S0EHjSf9HPZoypGUpZqredHTEKtWczvHdu4dQR6iJbMYUrRP0gYYZqQGGuGLSWX/s1600/Cocoafair-chocolate-tour.jpg" height="293" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Marlon with his 'mother-in-law'</span></i></td></tr>
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<br />
Marlon talks us through the process at a chocolate- fuelled pace and the kids and I learn all about the various processes. We crunch a roasted bean, see how the beans are separated out into nibs (the cocoa-loaded bit in the middle) and husks (which are then used by an ex-employee to make an exfoliating body-scrub, all part of their no-waste ethic). We taste the liquor (chocolate liquid and nothing to do with alcohol) mixed with cocoa butter and organic sugar in the process of being refined, which can take a couple of days, and promise faithfully not to drop anything into the mother-in-law, the imposing machine that refines the chocolate and which costs R35,000 just to open, drain and service once a year. It’s only ever used to produce dark chocolate and it’s a feat of mathematics to work out quantities when switching from 71% to 95% varieties.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-9DvWBY2QzrfBSHXJsWByBXr2m28oXStPitoekfe2d21mQFTGKsZ_EageoaPEpPGRwxktLgCnO4Tbli4o1_mkRr2-s7y9ByH7MUoNZ4219pQdWQZIYdnCeGVsvxNtYrfbtfl/s1600/chocolate-refining.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-9DvWBY2QzrfBSHXJsWByBXr2m28oXStPitoekfe2d21mQFTGKsZ_EageoaPEpPGRwxktLgCnO4Tbli4o1_mkRr2-s7y9ByH7MUoNZ4219pQdWQZIYdnCeGVsvxNtYrfbtfl/s1600/chocolate-refining.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>A peek into the luscious swirl inside the machine</i></span></td></tr>
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By the time we leave the inside room, with its chemical-free fly strips to catch any exotic bugs that might hatch out of the hessian sacks of beans (don’t worry any bugs and bacteria are naturally dealt with in the roasting process, without any need for contaminating chemicals), the chocolate has reached the stage of being big blocks ready to work with further. Big 1 kg slabs are sold on directly to hotels and restaurants and the rest is moulded into bars, Easter eggs and other delights. We meet Zuki, who has a delicate hand in making luscious chocolate truffles, and the four employees currently busy wrapping bars by hand. Part of the social enterprise aspect is creating jobs and training new employees gradually in the skills of chocolate. They start sweeping floors, move up to wrapping and then gradually become absorbed into the actual making.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6tlFs4JLSX0CxukMYRWahbSSV1Yc_1CW-hZVQqenxB6r0lrZIYLKG3vcpbWCNzpz69SNxz48SwZxYFQXOtR1GUCE3pRe463bB10KD4kyf15RRe2vU9_MzKjxAkFHrq-SakqU/s1600/easter-eggs-cocoafair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6tlFs4JLSX0CxukMYRWahbSSV1Yc_1CW-hZVQqenxB6r0lrZIYLKG3vcpbWCNzpz69SNxz48SwZxYFQXOtR1GUCE3pRe463bB10KD4kyf15RRe2vU9_MzKjxAkFHrq-SakqU/s1600/easter-eggs-cocoafair.jpg" height="280" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Moulded Easter Eggs hand-painted by the CocoaFair team</i></span></td></tr>
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Now we start to taste the finished chocolate. I hurry to taste, take notes and compare, but find that it all goes by in a flurry of Mmmmms. The 95% is incredibly smooth and not at all bitter, my girls both like the 71%, when they find most dark chocolates too strong. There’s also an 85%, a 65% and a sweet but still satisfyingly dark 56%. The percentage indicates the amount of cocoa solids and cocoa butter, the other part of the equation being pure organic sugar.<br />
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Then there are bars with added flavours, all of which have been carefully created to complement and not overwhelm the chocolate. The mint comes from Marlon’s garden to ensure it is organic, the bruised leaves then being infused in the chocolate for a clean and aromatic flavour. The chilli flavour was worked on for 3 weeks to get exactly 10s delay in the chilli glow coming through. There’s an espresso coffee, a hazelnut, a sea salt and some milk chocolates, the surprise hit being a subtle liquorice milk chocolate which is interestingly moreish. And the white chocolate has a warm creaminess that is more than just sugar, being made with a substantial amount of pure cocoa butter, no other vegetable fats, just milk and sugar added.<br />
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The staff are given a free rein on decorating the moulded chocolate Easter eggs and encouraged to experiment on developing new flavours of truffles and pralines. These are sold on the market stall and if they are a success become part of the range on offer.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Filling the chocolate moulds...chocolate on tap!</i></span></td></tr>
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We receded out through the last room to the intense scent of orange and the sight of moulds being filled quickly and deftly with the molten magic. Then we were left with the hardest decision of the morning. Which of the bars we had tasted to buy for the rest of the family at home?<br />
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Thank you so much to Heinrich for inviting us, to Marlon for the fascinating tour and to the whole CocoáFair team for producing such delicious chocolate!<br />
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/cocoafair?fref=ts" target="_blank">CocoáFair</a> is at: The Old Biscuit Mill (under the silo), 373-375 Albert Road, Woodstock<br />
Open: Mon-Fri 8-5pm Sat 8-2pm<br />
Tours: Saturday 10-2pm R50 pp and groups by appointment during the week<br />
Tel: 021 447 7355Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25059881.post-12213934767153960492014-03-25T17:09:00.001+02:002014-03-25T17:09:05.541+02:00In Defence of Carbs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My name is Kit and I love carbs. There I’ve said it... I’m not doing the paleo thing, I send my kids to school with sandwiches made of bread and cheese, and I love baking. And it may be crazy to feel you have to defend a love for what has always been a staple part of our diet, but there are so many articles out there now <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-2509255/Carbs-rot-brain-Doctor-slams-grains-silent-brain-killers.html" target="_blank">demonising</a> the simple slice of bread that it is time for me to speak out!<br />
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Let me just say that I eat meat, vegetables and dairy too. I stuck with butter throughout the many years that Flora reigned supreme. I use cream in my cooking and sometimes buy whole fat milk as well as low fat, so I don’t only love carbs, my devotion is shared between all the major food groups. <br />
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The ‘paleo’ diet sounds great for those who can afford to buy good quality meat and dairy products in decent quantities; and for those who really do have medical reasons to go low carb, such as diabetes. I’ve heard from several friends, whose opinions I respect, that going paleo has really made a difference to them. But why does a food trend have to swing so violently one way or the other. Suddenly all the information I’m bombarded with says <a href="http://www.meltorganic.com/carbohydrates-the-smoking-gun/" target="_blank">carbs are bad</a>, carbs are poison. Can’t we have some sensible middle ground here?<br /><br />
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For most of us (and I mean those without medical problems, intolerances and allergies) a balanced diet is one that includes all the food groups. Carbohydrates give us energy, they are filling and satisfying, they are feel good foods. Yes it’s better to go for complex carbohydrates, like brown rice, wholewheat flour, oats and so on, but even white bread is fine in moderation. Moderation being the operative word here; a diet disproportionately heavy on carbohydrate isn’t going to be good for anyone.<br />
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Moderation, middle ground, middle of the road sounds so dull... it’s not as interesting, dramatic or colourful as being at one of the extremes, but I really believe that when it comes to food it makes sense. Too much or too little of anything can be bad for you. All those claims for thirty years that low fat diets were the answer for a healthy heart now seem to be being <a href="http://www.science20.com/news_articles/do_saturated_fats_really_cause_heart_disease-131862" target="_blank">refuted</a>. I’m vindicated in my championing of butter. Who knows what research will find out about carbs in thirty years? That they actually are essential after all?<br />
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I want my children to enjoy food, to eat sensibly and not get stuck on the latest food fad. I’d like them to be able to travel the world when they’re older and eat with their local hosts without having to cross reference the menu against a long list of foods that they don’t eat. I’d love it if they ate more vegetables. I’d love to be able to afford ethically raised meat to feed them several times every week. But as long as they are eating a fairly broad spectrum of home-cooked foods, I think that they are getting adequate nutrition.<br />
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If we are going to have any food issues in the house, I’d rather banish processed foods and focus on home-cooked. But even that I can’t take to extremes; I still feed our son on baked beans, which he loves, and eat bought peanut butter with marmalade myself as a lunchtime snack.<br />
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I have an unsubstantiated suspicion that it is modern methods of preserving and farming foods that is at the bottom of the mainstream reaction against certain foods; that it is the preservatives and traces of agricultural chemicals in flour that may be a factor in many cases of gluten intolerance; that it is hormones and chemicals in intensely farmed meat that may result in meat or animal fat causing health problems.<br />
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So my idea of a culinary utopia would be us all sitting down together and dining off a laden table of organic fruits and vegetables, cheeses and cream, organic pasture-reared meat and breads made from organic stoneground flour, without counting a single calorie, and living healthily ever after... with a generous serving of organic fair trade chocolate to finish off with.<br />
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But until that day dawns I will just do the best I can with the freshest and most ethical foods I can source and afford on a variable budget. I will bake bread, crunchies, cakes and pastries without feeling guilty about it, and I will happily cook for paleo friends, vegetarian friends, vegan friends and gluten intolerant friends (although perhaps secretly hoping that they are not all present at the same meal!)<br />
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How about you... are you finding that paleo is right for you? Or are you an unrepentant carboholic like me!<br />
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Kithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594062064082350697noreply@blogger.com6