Struan Farm

Just Desserts #1

First off the rank this week is "Pina Colada Cake" from "The Tin Goose Cafe Cookbook" by Jeanie Watson. The book can be ordered by contacting Jeanie here.

 
 
It was a very simple cake to make. Ingredients include flour, sugar, crushed pineapple, butter, and coconut flakes. I finally found the latter at a veggie stand, our regular food store didn't stock them. The icing is rich, with cream cheese, butter, coconut, and icing/confectionary sugar.

 
I made this as my first dessert this week since John is a big fan of both coconut and pineapple, having spent a stint in the Solomon Islands in the VSA (NZ equivalent of the Peace Corps). It helped get him in the groove for this little cooking experiment of mine!

It was definitely thumbs up.

Channeling Julia

I've just finished reading "As Always, Julia," a compilation of the letters by food historian Joan Reardon between Julia Child and her great friend and editor, Avis Devoto. 

 
The book, a birthday present from my friend Laura, is an engaging read and is available in NZ from fishpond, here. Mine looks a bit dog-eared above, having been dragged on a few recent trips.

The friendship happened after Julia wrote to Bernard Devoto to comment on an article he'd written for Harper's about cooking knives. He passed the letter over to his wife Avis for a reply. The two women began corresponding, becoming friends and lifelong confidantes.

The letters, which span from 1952 up to Avis' death in 1989, chronicle the writing and evolution of what became "Mastering the Art of French Cooking," a culinary blockbuster when it was (finally) published and ever since. The writing of the cookbook took Julia years, involving two french partners and extensive research and testing (and re-testing). Avis played a critical role in presenting the book to publishers, as well as providing input on content and relevance given the post war changes that were happening quickly in the US at the time.

What was more interesting to me were the social and business circles the two women ran in, along with their diverse interests and political views (McCarthy was on his witch hunt for communists during this time  period).

Julia was most often overseas and it was Avis who kept her posted on current trends, books/magazine articles, and political developments. And most importantly, what was available or unavailable in food stores and butcher shops in the U.S. Hard to believe that fresh herbs (and sometimes dried herbs) were not available in the 1950's! Julia would have helped change all that.

So in honor of Julia, a Smith College alum like me, it's going to be "Just Desserts" this week. If I had more time I would have chosen chicken, which seems to have been a particular obsession of hers, but I'll have to save that for another time.

The recipes won't be hers, just the inspiration. And yes, I've seen "Julie and Julia."

Buddha Contemplating Autumn

Clifford and I were walking at the pond last Sunday morning and came across Buddha contemplating autumn:

 
I was in a pretty contemplative mood myself. I was due to have my annual mammogram the next day, followed by a semi-annual specialist visit the following week. As a breast cancer survivor, I try not to think about it too much, but I do. It's the elephant in the room until it's over and done with.

Buddha suggested that being in the moment might be helpful, and he was right. Everything's good.

A Certain Blue Ox & Winter Cooking Trend

Do you remember the tale of mythical lumberjack Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox? Well it bubbled up from the recesses of my memory as I was thumbing through Annabel Langbein's The Free Range Cook and found a recipe for Braised Oxtail. I had visions of teams of big, yoked oxen with huge horns.

Since John likes braised meats falling off the bone and also favors oxtail soup, I decided to experiment. In the process I learned that "oxtail" is really a rustic name for beef tail, and that it's sold in chunks at the local butcher shop. That was almost enough to put me off the idea, but not quite.

For this dish the meat is roasted at high temperature for 30 minutes, then braised in a lidded casserole dish for 2/12 hours at a reduced temperature (three hours is probably better) in a mixture of tomato juice, soy sauce, water, dried chili, garlic, ginger, orange peel and star anise.  It's the sort of dish that would work well in a slow cooker/crockpot.

It smelled delicious and looked beautiful coming out of the oven, studded with the chilis, garlic, ginger and orange peel:

 
I served it with carrot and parsnip mash, also from the book, which was easy and excellent. But I'm not so sure about oxtail after all this, it was very fatty. Lamb shanks might be a better option. 

Coincidentally, this past Friday on National Radio's "Afternoons" show Jacob Brown from The Larder in Wellington walked through an oxtail stew recipe that can be found here. He recommends roasting the meat the day before and putting it in the refrigerator overnight to allow the fat to congeal and be removed before final cooking. I suspect this additional step addresses my main objection above, although it adds to the advance planning required. 

Trust this tip helps anyone wanting to test out oxtail for a different rustic winter dinner!

The Bug on the Rock

Driving to and from Piopio we pass through a village called Kihikihi. It's located between Te Awamutu and Otorohonga on the way from Hamilton to Waitomo Caves (and beyond to Piopio and New Plymouth). Kihikihi is a small town with a few shops. Near a pretty local church there's a small reserve with a big rock atop which perches a statue of a rather goggle-eyed, winged bug.

For a long time I had no idea what the deal was with the bug on the rock, but wasn't curious enough to stop enroute to find out. Until one day when we stopped to buy corn from a grower selling from his truck in the reserve. We noticed a plaque on the rock explaining what it was all about and decided finally to get to the bottom of it.

 

 
Turns out "Kihikihi" means "cicada" in Te Reo Maori, and the statue is a cicada. The plaque explains that Kihikihi was a special delicacy or "kai" served to a tribe visiting the area, also that their song heralds summer.

So yet another mystery solved. Sometimes intellectual curiousity doesn't always get the better of me, but I'm glad when it actually does since I always learn something!

Inspired by Spiders

My dream for Struan Farm Knitting Studio is that it will become a place to inspire creativity. Mostly for knitting and other fiber arts, but its mission could (and will most likely) evolve. Right now I'm becoming curious about embroidery, and also about making things from recycled materials. Creativity is a continuum I believe.

 
The Robertsons have a thing for spiders. John used to tell Daniel and Sarah stories about spiders when they were growing up. They both think twice before killing one as a result. When John and I were spending weekends renovating The Cottage at Struan Farm, we had a big, hairy spider that lurked in the toilet, coming out only at night to terrorize mostly me. John christened him "Henry" and chatted with him. It took me awhile to nab Henry with the vacuum cleaner, but when I finally did, John was somewhat dismayed.

Despite my dislike of encountering spiders in the toilet, I do appreciate the beauty of the spider webs around the farm along with spider's role in the circle of life. In the morning the webs sparkle with drops of dew so are easier to notice. 

 
 
 
Seems to me that we have pretty creative spiders at Struan Farm, although not on a par with "Charlotte's Web" just yet. Give me time to inspire them.

It's just dawned on me that they are knitters too. 

Homestead Progress

 
We're making major inroads on finishing the Homestead renovation at Struan Farm. (Note my rather liberal use of the royal "We," since most of the work of late has not involved physical labor on my part.)

Noel is almost done with the exterior painting, and the garage deconstruction, which has been accomplished with the assistance of Dave and Aylsa, is now complete but for removal of the concrete floor. The pool man is coming this week to provide an estimate for that next big project.

The glass man (or "glazier" in NZ parlance) was out during the week and replaced the antique glass in one of the bedroom's original sash windows. So we can now lie in bed and look out from the room on the garden on both sides. A development that certainly doesn't make getting out of bed any easier, but it does make the high ceiling bedroom pretty spectacular.

 
 

Through the Mists at the Farm

It was one of those weekends at Struan Farm that began with misty mornings. The mist tends to float and drift, so I kept an eye out for interesting scenes, especially given the last gasp of autumn color:

 
 
 
And driving out of Piopio I was forced to stop and take this photo of the mist floating above the rolling green hills:

 
Makes it hard to leave town, doesn't it?

Rapture at Struan Farm

 
Lots of media and discussion generally with respect to the "Rapture," which was meant to occur on Saturday, May 21. The righteous were to be called up to Heaven, with the rest of mankind left to deal with tribulations and the eventual Apocalypse.

This sort of pronouncement makes me very nervous, even if I'd like to think I'd have a decent chance of being beamed upward (at least when I'm busy not being skeptical about the whole prediction). 

There are so many destructive and negative events around the world right now, why would anyone want to provoke the forces of evil with a further excuse to wreck havoc? "Hello, we're ready for cataclysmic events, bring them on?" Thanks, but can we avoid this scenario, please.

So John, Clifford and I headed to our safe haven, Struan Farm. I decided that if we made it through the day unscathed that a "Saturday Night Special Dessert" was in order.

We made it, so I made it:

 
Annabel Langbein's "Sticky Date Pudding" from The Free Range Cook with "Wicked Toffee Sauce." I was a wee bit nervous about the "Wicked Sauce," not wanting to tempt fate or wave any red flags, so to speak.

May you have rapture, peace and joy in your life, and certainly no apocalyptic events. We enjoy the former and try to avoid the latter at Struan Farm as much as possible.

Still Life with Pumpkins

I've picked two of the largest pumpkins from my patch at Struan Farm, it was time:

 
 
And I found some beautiful (what else?) Musquee de Provence pumpkins at the Clevedon Farmers Market. I know, I have a thing about these. They were being cut and sold in chunks for roasting. I asked the grower if he'd sell me an entire pumpkin, which he did before helping me carry it to the car.

 
Its initial gig is as rustic autumnal sculpture in our "mudroom" entrance at The Homestead, while the others are looking beautiful in the kitchen.

Major soup making in due course.

Strike A Pose

I was early (per usual) for a business meeting last week, so wandered into a nearby used bookstore and made a beeline for the knitting books. Major score when I least expected it: British Vogue Knitting Book, issues #48, 49, 56, 57, 59,60, and 61, dating back to 1957-60.

 
 
 
 I love the elegant designs and am adding at least the top one to my project queue:

 
 
 
 
To quote Madonna, "strike a pose." But without the cigarettes, please!

 

 

 

Fenton Find

I've been on the hunt for some interesting candlesticks for Sir Carrick's big dining table in the Homestead.  I have a hard time with candlesticks: most are too elaborate for me, fancy silver or crystal just isn't my cup of tea. And then there's the issue of dripping wax, and the need to find a design that deals with that disaster waiting to happen. I went to a few stores last week and didn't find anything contemporary that I liked at all.

Over the weekend I stopped into Collectamania in Ohaupo,  and picked up a pair of lovely old Fenton green milk glass candlesticks that tick all of the boxes:

 
I love the simple, "organic" design and the wide base. The company is a family owned firm that has operated since the early 1900's in Williamstown, West Virginia, USA. They created carnival glass and have manufactured colored art glass since that time, were inspired by both Tiffany and Steuben. Find more information here.

Trailer Trash?

When I first moved to New Zealand I had no idea that every Kiwi worth his or her salt has a trailer, at least one. They are everywhere, and are especially evident on the roads. In the US one might hire a U-Haul when needing to move, but Americans don't seem to have tow bars on their cars unless they own boats or horses.

So when I bought my first car, and the dealer asked me if I wanted a tow bar installed, my response was "why ever would I need one of THOSE?" Suffice it to say that I was back by the end of the year having one installed. I'd learned. Trailers are very handy for major gardening projects, hauling firewood, moving furniture, and trips to the dump. Basically we use them all the time. Kiwis are DIY people, we don't hire service providers, we do it ourselves.

Over the weekend John looked out from the Homestead bedroom window and laughed that all three of our trailers were in evidence and use. 

The oldest:

 
Note the flat, old Land Rover tires. They would crack or pop if re-inflated at this point. This trailer is used purely for staging purposes to hold stuff heading to the dump or burn pile. Every so often it gets moved around by the tractor. It has been de-commissioned for many years, is off the road entirely.

Trailer #2:

 
This is our middle aged trailer. It was recently decommissioned so is not used on the road any longer; right now it is employed on our garage de-construction project.

Our third and newest trailer was built by brother-in-law Scott. It is "warranted" and registered so takes to the open road and is standing by for a load of firewood destined for Papakura:

 
Walking around I noticed that Noel, who is at Struan Farm painting the Homestead exterior, had brought his trailer as well:

 
So there were four trailers in use around the property! How ever do the Americans cope without them?

 

Ode to Joy Apple Pie

I decided to use up the remaining heirloom apples I brought back from Nelson to make an apple pie for John. It was an improvised affair: I used the sweet pastry recipe from the Walnut Caramel Tart recipe I'd made a few weekends ago, doubled. I peeled, cored, and sliced the apples and put them in a bowl with 3/4 cup sugar, one tablespoon of cinnamon, two tablespoons of flour and a bit of salt. Pricked both the top and bottom pastries with a fork.

I got a little cutsie and cut "Joy" out of spare pastry with some little alphabet cookie cutters I'd purchased recently and have been wanting to use. Then brushed the top crust with an egg and milk wash and baked at 400 degrees Celsius for about 45 minutes.

 

While "Joy" ended up a bit sunken and lopsided, the pie tasted amazing warm out of the oven. Beethoven would have approved. But I may search for larger alphabet cookie cutters or cut them larger by hand so my next Ode to Joy Apple Pie is less wobbly!

Con Te Partiro

Slightly melodramatic song, "Time to Say Goodbye." But it's pretty clear to us when Clifford is ready to hit the road:

 
 
Often he's ready to go before I am, so I just open the door and let him sit on the back seat and wait for me to get organized!

Turn, Turn, Turn

Perhaps I'm dating myself, but this time of year that old song by The Byrds, with lyrics adapted from Ecclesiastes, comes to mind: "To every thing, turn turn turn, there is a season, turn turn turn."

In two weeks we've gone from early to late autumn at Struan Farm. The oaks and black walnuts have lost their leaves, while the Nyssa sylvatica and Dawn Redwood are now taking their turns at peak color:

 
 
I dug out the tree book to do a bit of homework on the Nyssa, and learned that it is commonly called "Tupelo" or "Black Gum." Nyssa was a water nymph, and her name has been commemorated in a whole genus of water loving trees. We especially love the Nyssa for its brilliant red leaves in autumn, it's a gorgeous specimen that makes the view from The Homestead's bedroom window quite special right now:

 

 
 
Not to be outdone, down at the pond the Strawberry Tree ("Arbutus") is weighed down and sharing its autumn bounty with the birds:

 
 
And yes, the free range pests turkeys are still gorging on the remaining crabapples. I counted 22 wandering in the Pet Paddock on Saturday (TWENTY TWO).

 

Overdue Baby Blanket

Just to explain, it's me that's overdue, not the baby. My friend Kerryn had a baby boy in March. Here it is May and Karen has not delivered anything handknit for Jonathan, her first child.

I've dropped the ball, I know, so have been working to remedy the situation:

 
The pattern is Garter Rib Baby Blanket by Orange Flower Patterns, available for free on their blog here.  I'm making it in Blue Sky Alpacas Dyed Cotton (organically grown), in a light blue, color 616. Very easy and cute. I'm about 50% done and am cruising along.

Saturday Night's Special

With John living at Struan Farm in Piopio and working in Te Kuiti, and me living in Papakura and working in Auckland, weekends at Struan Farm are our special time together, at least for now.

We've gotten into a new routine with respect to having special dinners on Saturday night after the day's work outside. I plan interesting menus, and have been using them to test out new recipes, especially desserts, which is more than fine with John.

My latest experiment was a delicious Upside-down Pear and Gingerbread Cake from the May issue of NZ House & Garden magazine. The cake is baked in a lined springform pan. A paste made of butter heated with golden syrup and brown sugar is cooled then put in the bottom of the pan topped with the quartered pears followed by the batter. The batter includes additional golden syrup, brown sugar, ginger, eggs, milk, neutral oil (I used canola), baking soda and self raising flour. It is mixed in the food processor, which is a little unusual but easy.

 
Yet another great discovery, although I do wish that one pear hadn't wandered away from the center!

 
Served with yogurt above.

Down By The River

 
The title of this post brings to mind a high school trip to Spain one summer. A classmate named Marla purchased a folk guitar during the trip, and the song "Down by the River" by Neil Young became our anthem. We travelled the country wailing the lyrics, which included "down by the river, I shot my baby." (See the complete lyrics here, since there's a bit more to the story.) 

One of the guys on the trip had been sent off for the summer by his parents after stealing and crash landing a private plane. I, on the other hand, had worked part-time for a year to pay for the trip and was there to improve my Spanish language skills. It was a group with mixed objectives, to say the least, but we all had a transformational time, singing included. 

Nothing so dramatic happens down at the Mangaotaki River at Struan Farm. The only things that might get shot from time to time are the wild geese when their numbers get out of control, our scenic rapids, or some photographs.

We've got a lovely stretch of rapids with corrugated limestone rocks. They are more or less vigorous depending on the level of the river. There are great spots to kayak or drift along on an inner tube in the right conditions.

 

I'm starting to shoot down by the river, this was my first attempt.

The Hobbit Comes to Piopio

It's official! Part of Sir Peter Jackson's movie "The Hobbit" will be filmed in Piopio in November. An accommodation person is in town making housing arrangements for 350 odd people in the area, so the word is out.

 

This is great news--more people than ever will want to visit Piopio, see our picturesque King Country limestone landscapes, and stay at Struan Farm.

Thanks Sir Peter, this will be a big boost to our local economy and little village.