Christmas Snippits

xx

A very incomprehensive snapshot of three days of Christmas festivities...

I made my two precious housemates these fabric envelopes with stationary for all their adventures. I also made them each a teeny tiny (very fiddly) envelope for keeping treasures. I'd post instructions but I actually did a rather dodgy job of the hemming and would recommend you follow design sponge's advice and use fusible webbing instead.

Tom gave me this beautiful 1970s Danish ivory ring.

I spent Christmas eve making peppermint bark

and raspberry butter and granola for Christmas hampers. The raspberry butter was divine. It tasted like edible childhood (not to be confused with edible child).

On Christmas morning I ate my first home grown snowpea. Hopefully this will become a yearly tradition.

A few days ago we went on a beautiful walk in Tidbinbila with visiting family from Melbourne. We splashed in the crisp clean water and frolicked beneath emerald green ferns. Quite refreshing, especially after three days of dead pig sauced with congealed turkey fat.

Ode to Tomatoes

xx
The street
filled with tomatoes
midday,
summer,
light is
halved
like
a
tomato,
its juice
runs
through the streets.
In December,
unabated,
the tomato
invades
the kitchen,
it enters at lunchtime,
takes
its ease
on countertops,
among glasses,
butter dishes,
blue saltcellars.
It sheds
its own light,
benign majesty.
Unfortunately, we must
murder it:
the knife
sinks
into living flesh,
red
viscera,
a cool
sun,
profound,
inexhausible,
populates the salads
of Chile,
happily, it is wed
to the clear onion,
and to celebrate the union
we
pour
oil,
essential
child of the olive,
onto its halved hemispheres,
pepper
adds
its fragrance,
salt, its magnetism;
it is the wedding
of the day,
parsley
hoists
its flag,
potatoes
bubble vigorously,
the aroma
of the roast
knocks
at the door,
it's time!
come on!
and, on
the table, at the midpoint
of summer,
the tomato,
star of earth,
recurrent
and fertile
star,
displays
its convolutions,
its canals,
its remarkable amplitude
and abundance,
no pit,
no husk,
no leaves or thorns,
the tomato offers
its gift
of fiery color
and cool completeness.

-- Pablo Neruda, Ode to Tomatoes



The other day I ate my first home grown tomato of this Summer. I excitedly watched it achieve deeper and deeper shades of red for several weeks, until it was clear that its juicy bounty would hold no longer. It had a rustic look, all stretched at the top; humbly declaring its homegrown status. It was beautiful. I ate half of it sliced up on a piece of ricotta slathered sourdough bread, topped with purple and green basil (from my kitchen bench plants) and scattered with Maldon sea salt. It was so surprisingly, almost obnoxiously delicious that I ate the remaining half exactly as it was. No salt, no nuthin'.



To be honest, I didn't really expect it to taste that good. For me it was encouraging enough just to actually grow the whole thing. Australian wisdom has it that a tomato ripened before Christmas is a major achievement, signaling good fortune in the year to come (or so I like to imagine). It also meant that I beat my mother and brother in the official tomato race of 2009-10, which made me feel plenty smug already. But when I ate this glorious fruit, all the sentiments of Neruda's gushy poem came to life. It was a truly celebratory moment, and I can't wait for the next one to ripen (which should be very soon!). There are 15 tomato plants of various varieties all thriving in my garden, so hopefully it will be a summer of tomatoey abundance! If you've never grown tomatoes before, you should give it a try. With sufficient sunlight (which an Australian summer should amply provide), they're incredibly easy to nurture, and the fruit they produce is infinitely more delicious and deeply flavoured than even the best store bought equivalents.


NB. If you've been keenly following my gardening pursuits (and who hasn't?), you'll want to know that this wasn't from the plant I grew from seed and posted about back in October. These are still rather small, but, much to my motherly pride, thriving:


The subject of this post came from a rather mature plant I found hidden at the back of a shelf in a garden shop for $2. I'm not sure what variety it is, but judging by its meaty goodness, I'd say possibly a beef or oxheart. Definitely a winner.

Christmas Treats

Bauble from Nature Bulbs via Cup of Jo

I've been thinking about goodies for Christmas hampers. Every year I make one for my parents, one for Tom's parents and one for any other visiting family/friends whom I can't afford to buy a worthy present for. Although, once I've purchased supplies and spent hours sterilizing, stirring, baking and spreading on Christmas eve I'm not sure that I don't wish I'd just bought them a damn $50 teapot...but still, I think that they appreciate the time and thought. They'd better appreciate the time and thought.

I've already bought some cute little baskets second-hand and cheapy, and have made rather a lengthy list of inclusions. I like to try to mix it up every year - last year it was lemon butter, chilli jam, chocolates and something else no doubt tasty. This year I'm thinking:

• Tomato Kasundi (from the Charmaine Solomon Complete Asian Cookbook - so so good)

• Peppermint Bark. This was honestly the best thing about Christmas last year.

• Home made granola. With chocolate. Wholesome, but still a treat.

• Raspberry curd. How beautiful do those two words sound together?

• Home made Chai. Buy some leaf tea and chuck in spices. Easy peasy.

• Orangettes. I tried making these earlier in the year and they didn't quite candify, but I'm willing to give it another go.

I also think it's a good idea to print out pretty recipe cards for each item so the receiver can make their own when they run out. Genius, no? I also like to make pretty little calligraphed lables and tie everything up with lace. Everything I make somehow includes lace. Seriously, everything. I love lace. I think I will request to be bound up in layers and layers of lace when I die, like a Victorian mummie.

To market to market

Hello darling, gorgeous, scrumptious readers. I just wanted to let ya'll know that I will be having a little stall this Saturday (December 5th) at the Gorman House Markets. I'll be selling lots of prettie hand made things, which would be perfect for your lovely selves, or perhaps someone dearly beloved. The markets run from 10-3, and you can buy yourself a very yummy lunch while you're there (I like the Ethiopian and the El Salvadorian puposas!). Also, readers of this here blog, or Number One Millionaire who are brave enough to declare themselves as such will receive a hearty discount.

Here are some of the things I'll be selling:


Lace bottle vases, as modeled by my front door step.



Cushions made from antique fabric and linen, as modeled by my couch.


Cushions made from linen and dyed vintage doilies, as modeled by my mid century Danish chair.



Round garlands, as modeled by my living room wall. I think these would be perfect for general decoration (maybe a child's room?), Christmas tree adornment or to add a festive, circus-y vibe to any occasion.

Hope to see you there! xx

The Pad Thai

Last week when I made this, it was 36 degrees and I felt like something fresh, yummy and requiring minimal time over a hot stove. Today I'm wearing flannelet pajama pants and a hoodie (yeah, I'm not working much at the moment), despite the fact that it is technically the first day of Summer. Still, I think Pad Thai is pretty yummy in any weather, and this is an extra good recipe with all the authentic ingredients, unlike others I'd tried in the past (I'm looking at you, Donna Hay. Haven't you heard of tamarind?). I've adapted this recipe quite a lot to suit my personal tastes and the exotic ingredients I already had lurking about, but the original can be found in David Thompson's book Thai Street Food.

Pad Thai
Serves 2 (can be easily doubled to serve 4 or provide ample leftovers)

Ingredients
125g dried rice noodles, approximately the width of linguini
3 tablespoons palm sugar, finely grated
2 teaspoons tamarind concentrate, dilluted in 2 tablespoons of water
1 tablespoon of fish sauce (or more if, like me, you like it extra salty and fishy!)
3 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil
4 red shallots, or one small onion, corsely chopped
1 teaspoon shrimp paste
2 eggs
5 snake beans, cut into 3cm lengths
50g beancurd (I used freshly made puffs)
1/2 teaspoon shredded salted radish, rinsed and dried
1 tablespoon coarsely crushed roasted peanuts
a handful of beansprouts
a handful of garlic chives, cut into 2cm lengths
Extra bean sprouts, garlic chives, crushed peanuts, lime wedges, chili powder and fried shallots, to serve
NB: all exotic-sounding ingredients should be easy to find at any Asian Supermarket

Method
1. Soak noodles in boiling water for approximately 5 minutes until soft but still quite al dente.
2. Combine the palm sugar, tamarind and fish sauce along with a tablespoon of water in a bowl, and stir until the sugar has dissolved.
3. Heat the oil in a wok over medium heat. Fry the shallots and shrimp paste until fragrant and beginning to colour.
4. Crack in the eggs and scramble for about 30 seconds.
5. Turn up the heat, add the noodles and beans, and fry for about 30 seconds, tossing through the eggs.
6. Add the sauce and simmer until it is absorbed.
7. Mix in the bean curd, salted radish and peanuts, then simmer, stirring until almost dry.
8. Add the bean sprouts and garlic chives and stir through.
9. Taste: it should be salty, sweet and sour. At this stage I usually add a glug more fish sauce.
10. Serve topped with bean sprouts, lime wedges, extra garlic chives, peanuts, chili powder and fried shallots.

A giggle and a smooch

Tom and I went to Sydney this weekend for a gig, or as I like to call them, a giggle (I also call the shmoozing part that inevitably occurs afterwards a 'smooch'. Hence, a giggle and a smooch.) Sydney pretty much kicked our collective arse all weekend, but all was forgiven when we dropped back into our favourite antique shop in Berrima on the way home. I bought some amazing Art Nouveau-y curtains with a geranium design for my craft pursuits, and Tom bought me this adorable little Norwegian saucepan with a burnt handle as a late anniversary gift. I plan to use it exclusively for the purpose of brewing homemade chai. Fortuitously, it's rather chilly here at the moment so I've already given it a try, and it worked perfectly. For a good homemade chai recipe check out Ellen and Tara's beautiful blog A Whistle and a Milkshake.

CraftGardenEat

Today was a glorious, precious day off. I:



Sewed like a crazy person and arranged a spot at the Gorman House Markets next Saturday the 5th of December to sell prettie things! A more detailed post on this with lots of pictures will be up soon.




Ate ginger candy. So soft and chewy and delicious. Cost me $1.25 a packet at the Asian supermarket.


Dyed more doilies. What are our thoughts on the red, wise readers? Tom suggested I dye over it with blue to make purple, but I kind of enjoy the bloody succulence of this colour.


Observed the first flowers on my eggplant plants. One day these will become lovely long glossy purple eggplants!


Made an epic Pad Thai. I saw the recipe in this morning's Food and Wine, the best feature of the Canberra Times, and knew I would have to make it tonight. I've been searching for a good, authentic recipe for a while, and this is definitely the one for me. I shall share it, all in good time.

A Few Things. Peas, mostly.

Snowpeas are possibly the most satisfying vegetable to grow. Planted these as seeds less than a month ago and look at them go! Plus they are so pretty with their lovely curly fronds.


I've been sewing more cushions. Not for me this time, but an exciting, still undefined future project.









I have a new favorite cook book: Nigel Slater's Tender. It's all about growing and cooking your own veggies, a theme close to my heart, but is also just achingly beautiful both in photography and in words. He begins the book with a list of his favourite smells: Snow (yes, I believe it has a smell), dim sum, old books, cardamom, beeswax, moss, warm flapjacks, a freshly snapped runner bean, a roasting chicken, a fleeting whiff of white narcissi on a freezing winter's day.

The man speaks straight to my heat. Expect lots of yummy recipes from this in the future.

Berry

Last weekend, Thomas and I went to Berry to celebrate five years of smug coupledom.

We started the weekend with a divine dinner at the very trendy, fusion asian style Hungry Duck. Our table wasn't ready when we got there, so we got to sit in their beautiful vegetable garden (from which much of the food they serve is made) and drink genmaicha (my favourite of the green teas) and eat our delicious entrees: chili squid with Chang Mai relish and pork buns by lantern light. Flavour sensational! Seriously though, if you ever go to the Hungry Duck do make sure you ask if you can start with drinks in the garden. It's truly magical!


We stayed at the quaintly named and naughtily beyond our budget Sojourn at Far Valley (look at their website for more photos, I couldn't do it justice). Which isn't actually in Berry but a place 10 minutes away called 'Far Valley'. It's a beautiful, green cow farm surrounded by stunning eucalyptus forest. There are only two cabins so it feels very exclusive, and the interior is incredibly sleek, modern, and alarmingly clean.

I was awoken early by the cows, so spent some quality time with some quality magazines.

We spent a lot of time on the deck reading, drinking wine and eating cheese and fig paste. It was perfection, except the cheese tasted like petroleum. Tom declared 'I will not let our weekend be ruined by bad cheese!' and huffily drove back into town and insisted that the shop replace it. It was hillarious.


On the second night we picked up lovely fresh oysters and prawns from nearby Nowra and ate them in our stylish digs. Tom cooked a scrumptious asparagus dish (the trick is to cut the asparagus in half length ways so there is plenty of exposed surface to caramelize against the hot pan), which was the highlight of the whole meal. We drank some fancily-labeled beers and made a huge mess.

After dinner, a frog came to our veranda to visit! He was rather friendly/scared stiff and patiently posed for photos.

On Sunday we ate at the very famous, and rightly so, Berry Woodfired Bakery. Like Silo (for you Canberra peeps), but possibly even better. I ate three loaves of their bread over the weekend and in the days that followed. Tom took lots of posy photos of me with bed hair while we waited for our meals (mussel linguine which wasn't as good as mine, salad and kipfler potato wedges with a tasty homemade tomato relish. What is it with Berry people and their relishes?).

On the beautiful, windy drive home through fairy glens and semi-rainforest, we stopped at a few roadside honesty store thingies. I thought this one was particularly charming with its colourful flowers. We bought a gigantic lettuce which looked more like a conifer that had been sculpted into a cone shape.

We also stopped at a magnificent, gigantic antique shop in Berrima. These shoes were from 1910 and were teeny tiny! We're actually planning a trip back there soon. It's the kind of place you could get lost in and spend all day.

Cushioned

Lengthy periods of unofficial unemployment/underemployment seems to be a reoccurring theme in my life this year. I have the kind of job where one week they can't get enough of me, and the next week they tell me they'll 'call' me when they need me next. Which sometimes isn't for three weeks. Financially, it is rather irksome, but in truth I wish I didn't enjoy it quite so much. Maybe then I'd find a new job. My housemate, KC, said to me the other day: "I think that maybe you're just not supposed to work." I think she's definitely right, the employment gods are clearly urging me elsewhere. I just don't know where yet.

I did not make Mr Rabbit, only the cushion against which he is nestled.

Perhaps I shall be a cushion maker. I have made not one, but four (!) cushions on a real sewing machine using my own hands over the last couple of weeks. Some of them even have zippers, although I soon realised that such feats of manchesterial dexterity are better left to more experienced sewers.

Those last three cushions were easy. But this one took months to make. I'm not even sure if I even like the colours anymore. Instructions to make one of yer own are here. And yes, that is Elvis's chin up there. Isn't he darling?

Hippy Beans

So, among other things, this blog was supposed to be a space for me to document notable things I've cooked, thus reminding me that a day that ends in a delicious home cooked meal is a day not wasted. Instead, it seems to have turned into a photo album of baby things. Curious that.

Anyway, last week my dear friend Katy gave me a very early, very generous Christmas present: the Leon cookbook (thanks, Katy!). It's pretty fabulous, full of lift outs and cut outs and pop outs and all kinds of novelty fun, but also some very useful information on ingredients (did you know that Australian stringy-bark honey is perhaps the most environmentally friendly, pure honey in the world? Or that microwaving a lime for 40 seconds before juicing it will make it much, much juicer?) and some fantastic, whole-foody recipes, including this one.

I've adjusted it quite a lot based on my personal preferences and skint budget, so my version uses kale instead of baby spinach (for health reasons - kale is supposedly ultra super good for you) and omitted the addition of a punnet of cherry tomatoes (that just seemed wasteful). I also played around with the spices a bit, adding some ground coriander to deepen the flavour.

This recipe is actually more vegetable than it is beans, which makes it feel extra wholesome, and means it makes for a very balanced meal already, just served with bread or rice. I love cooking huge pots of stewy goodness that would be more than enough for a family of six, but feeds the two of us for several days. And I love cooking burrito-y style things served with a plethora of little bits to add, like toasted tortias, coriander, lime wedges and avocado. Something about little bowls of goodness makes me happy, and remind me of how eagerly I would grate the carrots and the cheese whenever my Mum made tacos (from an Old El Paso packet, of course) back in the day. Topped with a big, delicious German beer - or more appropriately, a Mexican one - this is the ultimate feel good meal.

Serves at least six, or two for one dinner and several lunches.

Ingredients
Olive oil
1 large eggplant, cut into large cubes
2 red capsicups, cut into large cubes
1 tsp ground cummin
1 tsp ground coriander
1 large onion, diced
3 cloves garlic
3 red chillis, or 3 tsp sambal olek, or to taste (this much will make it pretty burny on your tongue)
2 tins tomatoes
1 bunch kale, cut into 2cm wide shreds
2 tins beans (I used one tin of black beans, one tin of mixed beans, but go for whatever combo works for you
1 tablespoon sweet chilli sauce (the secret ingredient, apparently).

Extras
Warmed tortias
Lime wedges
Lots of coriander leaves
Avocado
Grated cheese
Sour cream
Jalapenos

Method

1. In a large frying pan, heat a glug of olive oil, and fry the capsicum and eggplant chunks over high heat until tender and charred in places. You will probably have to do this in batches. Set aside.
2. In a large stockpot, heat another glug of olive oil and fry the onion untill transparent. Add the garlic, spices, chilli and kale and fry, stirring constantly for one minute so that the kale gets coated in oily goodness.
3. Add the eggplants and capsicums, tinned tomatoes, beans, and sweet chilli sauce, stir thoroughly and bring to the boil.
4. Reduce to simmer. Allow to simmer for half an hour with the lid on the pot, then half an hour off.
5. Serve with bread, rice or full mexican fixings.

Like Baby Butterflies

Germinated lettuces (either rocket, baby spinach or mizuna. It's too soon to tell).

My Brilliant Idea Tuesday: Part deux

Take a colorful blanket, a cool drink and a good book, and picnic in your garden (or a nearby park).
Imagine you are on a relaxing holiday (if only for an hour) and enjoy the sunshine.

The book is the very fun, slightly naughty The Buddha of Suburbia which I am reading for my rather infrequent book club.

My Brilliant Idea Tuesday

Since Tuesdays are often the bleakest and most uninspiring day of the week, I've decided to install a new ditty here at Quincey: My Brilliant Idea Tuesdays. Sometimes the idea will be an original of mine, sometimes I'll fleece it sneakily from elsewhere. Regardless, it will hopefully wake up and hit us like a new, exotically spiced tea, or a zesty, unexpected fragrance, or a glowing candle on a gray day, or a fresh, evocative new song. You know what I'm saying. Inspire us, people.

Budget, Rental Friendly Picture Framing

(click on photo to see it big)

Picture frames are expensive. Nice ones are tough to find, and you have to hammer holes in walls to hang them up - impossible if you're renting - or buy those pricey 3M sticky ones which I know for a fact are not fail-proof.

So, instead, why not experiment with different, more affordable ways to frame photographs, art or post cards on your walls? Try using ribbons, lace, or hand drawn frames on paper, and simply blutac them directly onto the wall on the outside of your pictures, or onto the edge of the images themselves. And if bluetac is against the rules in your house too, then...I'm sorry. Maybe try using 3M double sided tape?