Struan Farm

Time for Totaras

A few days ago we were showing farmstay guests around here at Struan Farm, talking about our efforts to grow and plant native trees. We were explaining that there are male and female totara trees, and pointed out the tree from which last year we've grown 1,000 seedling trees (so far). We mentioned that the female trees are meant to fruit every two years according to "Totara: A Natural and Cultural History" by Philip Johnson. 

And then I looked closely at the tree. It's fruiting again this year! It seems Mr. Johnson stands to be corrected.

It's already starting to drop seeds on the ground below. John had intended to spread some soil to help them along, so he'll need to hop to it. I'll also go out and check the other 2-3 female trees I noticed last year to see if they're fruiting/seeding too.

Contending with Yet Another Invasive Pest

John has declared war on the Japanese walnut trees in our immediate area. We've killed any that were growing here on Struan Farm, so he's now extending his efforts to adjacent roadsides and our neighbour across the road. With their consent he has just ring barked a big tree on their property and poisoned and pulled out others. He's also teaching them which ones to look out for so they can identify and get rid of them too.

The problem is that the nuts of these trees, which are edible but often bitter, drop and then travel in waterways and seed everywhere. They're basically out of control around the countryside, you'll see them along the roadsides and rivers if you start to look.

Juglands ailantifolia is native to Japan and was once popular in NZ as a garden feature or shade tree. It grows into quite a large deciduous tree, up to 15 metres high and 12 metres wide. It tends to colonise, shading out and overcoming less vigorous native species.

I'm starting to call John "weedbuster" since he's definitely on a crusade, and it's a good one. I guess if I've taken up the feral goat issue and he's onto the noxious and pest weeds that's a reasonably good division of labour between us. 

A Kingfisher in a Fine Kettle of Fish

Long time readers of the Struan Farm blog may remember I've had to rescue a kingfisher or two from the garage or on the deck previously. This week it was number three. It seems I've perfected my technique.

John mentioned he'd thought a bird had flown into the garage before disappearing off somewhere on the farm. I was out working outside and kept hearing a fluttering sound, so went to investigate. And yes, it was a kingfisher, caught back by the window. He'd sandwiched himself between the window and our firewood bins, assistance was required. The expression "a fine kettle of fish" means a muddle or awkward situation, which this certainly was!

He squawked away while I moved things, opened the window and got my broom. He hitched a ride up to the open window on my horizontal broom, relieved to be flying away.  Kettle of fish all sorted. They don't call me a superhero for nothing.

In Memory of "Bessie the Bomb"

We've been seeing vintage American cars travelling south over the past week here at Struan Farm, heading down to New Plymouth's annual "Americana" car festival. And over the weekend they all travelled back, many stopping in Piopio at the Fat Pigeon Cafe for coffee and/or a meal.

It was lovely to see the beautifully maintained cars and trucks parked around town! Almost makes me want a vintage Ford or Chevy pick-up truck...it would make quite the statement running into town each day to check the Piopio Community Fruit & Veg Stand, wouldn't it?

Growing up my mother drove a robin's egg light blue Chevy convertible we christened "Bessie the Bomb." Bessie would have been circa mid-late 1950's, so would have been related to some of these cars passing through Piopio. She didn't have long tail "fins," she was a bit more elegant and rounded, with a canvas roof. The sort of car one would drive wearing a head scarf and big sunglasses a la Grace Kelly or Audrey Hepburn. Her floor in the back rusted out toward the end of her life with us--things were a little hand to mouth at times growing up and my parents would have purchased her used. Eventually Bessie was replaced with a new VW bug that wasn't given a name. That was the car I learned to drive on, with the engine in the back and a stick shift of course.

Crossing a Line in the Compost

If you're one of our blog readers who gets squeamish when we talk about having to deal with the various non-native feral pests around Struan Farm, this isn't a post for you.

There's been a huge mob of feral turkeys roaming around the farm for about three weeks now. We've been hooting them away, hoping they would take off for the neighbour, but no such luck. They've been closing in on my flower gardens at the house, something I've been worried about.

Clifford has ignored them until yesterday, it's been too hot. In the morning I found him staring intently out the backyard gate going into his familiar stalking trance. When he gets into the full hunting mode he's impossible to stop. I looked out in the paddock and saw the turkeys, oh oh. In this instance I patted him on the back and told him to go back toward the house. But Clifford now realised there were turkeys and he was keen. And once he gets these things into his head he doesn't forget about them, he just gets sneaky. But he's blown out ligaments in his back leg twice now chasing them, and I don't think he would survive another round. Action was required.

We'd asked nephew Mike to bring his shotgun to work this past week to try to knock a few off, hoping that would encourage the rest to move on. Mike hadn't managed to find them but he hadn't looked terribly hard either, too many other jobs to do.

Then yesterday morning the mob of 20+ turkeys crossed the line. They jumped the fence into my veggie gardens in the backyard. I was inside but heard clucking noises out the window and looked out, thankfully. Several of the big toms were already foraging through the corn, tomatoes, parsley and sunflowers. I started hooting, shouting, and ran for the backdoor. I scared them away, but they now realised there were tasty veggies and they were keen.

Mike went home for his shotgun. The moral of this story is quite simple: don't mess with Karen's veggie gardens!

It's Not Easy Being Monarch

I was very excited this week to see Monarch Butterfly caterpillars starting to appear on the swan plants in our gardens here at Struan Farm. You may or may not know that there's a bit of a crisis globally with Monarchs. Butterfly aficionados are seriously concerned about their dropping numbers and ultimate survival. Researchers think this is due to pesticides/herbicides/chemical use and possibly also destruction of habitat. In the Northern Hemisphere Monarch butterflies migrate and spend winter in Mexico and summer in California in the same areas, groves of trees that people are now working to protect. In the Southern Hemisphere researchers are still trying to figure out their movements by tagging the butterflies. They are considered to be a "bellweather" species, rather like frogs, one that mirrors the overall health of the environment.

Here at Struan Farm we're just trying to help them as much as we can. I plant flowers that provide nectar that butterflies (and bees) like, including zinnia, echinacea, dahlias, roses, borage, etc. I've planted swan plants in different parts of the house gardens, away from the fences since the plants are poisonous to stock. (The sap is toxic to humans, it can harm your eyes. Caution is required when cutting them back.) I've got spare plants grown from seed in the glasshouse, covered with a net curtain, to provide back up food for the voracious caterpillars when/if they appear.

The good news is that one and then two Monarchs appeared in the gardens about three weeks ago. I've been keeping an eye on them and registering the sightings on www.monarch.org.nz , the research trust for all things butterfly here in NZ. In Piopio we seem to be much later than other areas, but I'm glad the Monarchs find us. The draw of swan plants perhaps.

And even better news: the caterpillars have started to appear on the swan plants, hooray! Butterfly fanatics call them "cats."

Not in huge numbers at this stage. The butterflies are still around and I'm hoping they're still busy laying more eggs on the swan plants. The "cats" do have predators, both wasps and it seems stink bugs/beetles. Sadly I watched a beetle killing a caterpillar without knowing what was happening on one of our swan plants. Once I realised the situation that stink bug was history, and now I keep an eye out for them lurking on the plants. Here's what they look like so you know too:

Kermit the Frog from Sesame Street used to sing about how it's not easy being green. Well I'll tell you, it's clearly not easy being Monarch either! These butterflies need our help.

Dabbling with Damsons, Part 2

My damson experiences continue here at Struan Farm.

Over the weekend I managed to make the "Damson and Rosemary Cheese" from Kylee Newton's book "The Modern Preserver." (Unfortunately the recipe isn't online, so I can't share it with you.) It's a version of paste, so not anything for the faint-hearted. The fruit is covered with a bit of water and cooked until soft, then put through a sieve or food mill. The puree, sugar and lemon juice are then brought to the boil, and stirred continuously. For forty minutes. At one point I had to change arms it went on for that long!

But the result was worth it. The paste is poured into buttered cups or vintage moulds (I had one) and dry baked at the oven's lowest temperature until it has firmed to a slight "wobble." We all will remember wobbles from panna cotta, right?

They were easy to un-mould with a gentle touch, but once out the "cheese" pretty much adheres to whatever you set it on, so be prepared for that. It is quite good served with cheese and crackers, and will keep for up to six months in the fridge.

And good news: through the Piopio Community Fruit & Veg Stand I've been able to connect with a woman who is swamped with damsons! She offered me more fruit, so the damson adventures will continue. Especially since I've read they can be frozen for later use.

And the Winner Is....

We've had quite a few tomatoes from the gardens at Struan Farm this season in excess of 500 grams. Up to this point the leader was one weighing 618. I picked one this past week that came close to rivalling that, at 610.

But I've been keeping my eye on a Black Cherokee heirloom tomato growing away in the backyard, and it's far and away the winner this year at 776 grams! (That's 1.71 pounds for my American friends.)

With thanks to Mother Nature and the Tomato Gods, of course.

A Brief Bake, with Blueberries

I'd planned to make this cake for John's Valentine's Day dinner here at Struan Farm, but I was a day or so late to the table. Too much happening here at this time of the year! We haven't been eating desserts much of late, but this was a delicious discovery.

"Blueberry Lemon Cake" is loaded with berries and quite moist. It's also not terribly sweet, the sort of cake we favour. And of course Piopio Berry Orchard blueberries take it to another level.

A Visit to The TreeChurch

Yesterday John and I went on an outing to see The TreeChurch in nearby Ohaupo. (As aside, I'm trying to discourage John from calling an outing or day trip we might go on a "holiday," or I might never get any of those!)

I'd read about The TreeChurch in NZ House & Garden many years ago now. But it wasn't until a friend told me that it was open to the public on Sundays from 1-4 p.m. at this time of the year, and showed me photos she'd taken, that I knew we had to go see it, that it would inspire both John and me. 

It is truly a special place, designed and built by Barry Cox, a serious tree person. And while we moan about all of the work we do here around Struan Farm, the maintenance associated with this place is on an entirely different level: robotic mower, pruning from cherry pickers, etc. We spent some time talking with Barry about the trees on and around the Church, particularly the beautiful white birches, "betula jacquemontii." He told me that the white bark is washed twice each year to remove the characteristic peeling and to keep that vibrant colour. These are the same trees we have along the Pet Paddock roadside fence (and yes, I may try to wash them to see what happens!). We had been giving some thought to planting these on the point near the historical Home Guard trenches at Struan Farm, but he discouraged us from planting them anywhere wind might be a problem.

The private garden is available as a wedding or event venue on a limited basis. Definitely worth a visit! $15 fee applies.

Playing with Damsons

Each morning I run into Piopio from Struan Farm to check the Piopio Community Fruit & Veg Stand. It's part of my job as the official stand manager. I usually take some surplus herbs, fruit or veg from the gardens to contribute since it's amazing how quickly things turn over in the stand. But at this time of the year there's heaps of fresh fruit and veg grown in local gardens and orchards on offer.

One day this week I found a box of what I thought were grapes, but was informed by sister-in-law Anna that they were, in fact, damson plums. Now I don't normally take much if anything from the Community Stand given how much we grow ourselves here at Struan Farm. Every so often a scallopini or a lemon, maybe. But I was sufficiently intrigued by the prospect of playing with damsons that I grabbed the box. There's an air of mystery surrounding damsons; they are coveted, have rather a cult following amongst foodies. I wanted to understand why.

Once home I did some research, and decided to try making damson curd and damson jam that first day. For the curd I used the recipe that's linked, but I added sprinkles of cinnamon, ginger and whole cloves (2) inspired by another recipe I came across. The damsons are softly cooked in a small amount of water then put through a sieve. I used my old fashioned food mill, which saved considerable time and effort. It's similar to what my mother used to make homemade apple sauce when I was growing up and a handy thing to have around.

The puree is then put into a glass bowl on the stove over a pot with gently boiling water (this is called a "bain marie," you could use a double boiler instead if you have one) with butter, the spices and caster sugar. Once the butter has melted beaten eggs are whisked into the mixture, which is then continuously stirred until thick. Like lemon or any other fruit curd the trick is to keep the heat low and consistent, and to keep stirring, so the eggs don't scramble. It took me about twenty minutes until the curd was thick enough to coat the back of the wooden spoon.

The hint of spice adds interesting flavour to the curd. The colour is a bit different from the vibrant puree, but it tastes good. It lasts for two weeks in sealed jars in the fridge. 

Then it was on to the "jam." I don't know if what I've made can technically be called jam, since I used the milled puree rather than whole fruit. Be that as it may, I weighed the puree and with 880 grams used an equivalent amount of sugar, rather standard fare in jam making. I added the same spice combination as above since it tasted so good. I may very well just call it "Spiced Damson Something" and leave it at that. I ended up with five jars.

Next comes "damson and rosemary cheese" from "The Modern Preserver," but that's for another day since it's time consuming a la fruit paste. Think I have just enough fruit left for that!

 

Teenage Mutant Ninja Tomatoes

Yes, just a bit tomato obsessed currently here at Struan Farm! They're coming at us fast and furious. But I was interested to find quite a few mutant tomatoes growing "appendages." Now we won't be rude here, will we? 

I did some quick research to see if I could find out what causes this, and found it's called "cat facing," and occurs when there is cool weather during pollination. The blossom sticks to the fruit, which stops part of it from forming properly. So that explains it. I was tempted to give them names, but restrained myself on that one!

Pollen Farmer-in-Training

Friend Laura sent me two gourmet food items in her annual Christmas package this year, meant to keep me "on trend" as a foodie. One was a tin of organic fennel pollen. The other was black cocoa for baking, but that will be another story. 

We've been so busy at Struan Farm since Christmas that I hadn't had much time to look into how I'm meant to use them, at least until a few days ago when I started to do some research. It seems fennel pollen has quite the following, and I've never heard of it! MasterChef Australia has failed me on this one.

Small amounts can be used to add flavour to meat, chicken, pasta and roasted vegetables. It can even be used in baking, in muffins, stone fruit pies and breads. Read more here. The pollen is hand collected from wild fennel that grows in Italy and California. The tin I received for Christmas was produced by Delitaliana, and they claim fennel pollen will become my "secret ingredient." A San Francisco food critic famously referred to it as "the spice that angels sprinkle on their wings." 

I then came across "Pollen Ranch" in Lemon Cove, California, a company involved in the production of wild fennel pollen. Knowing me, you will guess where this is heading?

Fennel grows wild on roadsides here in NZ. It's flowering right now. It is considered a bit of a weed pest. John and I went for a drive. We found some growing to the north and south of us on the roadsides, also on hillsides at Struan Farm's southern border.

And so we went foraging. Twice in one week, the first being the blackberries! And can I just say that John insisted upon coming with me, he didn't want me wandering around a busy roadside snipping flower heads by myself. What a guy, eh? It wasn't exactly what he wanted to be doing, but I think he was interested conceptually, to a point. We found ourselves competing with the bees for the flower heads.

Tied bunches of the harvested flower heads are hung in paper bags for a week or so. The pollen is meant to drop down. This is now happening in our garage. 

This pollen farmer-in-training will report back in due course. I now need to experiment with the stash Laura sent me for Christmas. But it also makes me curious whether or not pollens of other flowering herbs, like coriander, can be used as seasonings too.... 

 

 

 

The Record So Far & The Mystery of Why

We're busy contending with tomatoes here at Struan Farm. Harvesting heirloom tomatoes daily now, quite a few. I could barely lift this wooden basket below, it may be time for the trugs!

The record holder so far is 618 grams, I've had several others over 500.

People ask me what I do to grow tomatoes this large. Some of it must be the varieties. We like meaty, heirloom tomatoes. I put homemade compost, sheep pellets and blood and bone in the soil well before planting. When I plant the plants out from the glasshouse I use some special tomato fertiliser, and I rotate where they are planted each year. But that's pretty much it. I stake them and retie them as they grow. When I water I soak the soil near the roots, not the foliage if I can avoid it.

It can't be my singing to them, can it? I tend to hum Mozart, sometimes Beethoven piano sonatas, while I water.

 

Foraging Fun

A few days ago a farmstay guest here at Struan Farm returned from a kayak on the Mangaotaki with some lovely fresh blackberries she'd found on the side of the river.

As a sheep farm we work assiduously to rid the property of blackberry bushes, since sheep can get entangled in them and die. John spends many hours on hillsides with spray tanks of poison, doing what he can to contain and control it. As his father did so before him. 

So it was more than a little ironic that John and I decided to go off foraging for wild blackberries, searching the neighbours' boundary areas for blackberry bushes. Neither one seems to be quite as concerned about weed or animal pests as we are, having larger properties that are commercial farms and running different types of stock. There were blackberry bushes everywhere.

One needs to tread carefully, it's a prickly business. Blackberry tends to reach out for you. But we managed to come home with a good bit of fruit.

I improvised a blackberry galette for dessert that night, and we shared the rest with the farmstay guests.

I might need to venture back if time permits.....I'm thinking jam, or maybe even paste.

 

 

 

Into "Peak Tomato"

We are getting into "peak tomato" here at Struan Farm, that time of the year when I end up with buckets and trugs full of harvested tomatoes from the veggie garden at the end of each day. Thus far I've been roasting a batch or two for the freezer every other day, giving random tomatoes to guests and the Piopio Community Fruit & Veg Stand, making gazpacho, etc. but now it's crunch time so we are able to enjoy tomatoes from the freezer for the rest of the year. Almost time to make tomato soup!

A farmstay guest visiting last week suggested I try "Tomatoes with sumac onions and pine nuts" from the new Ottolenghi cookbook "Simple." Coincidentally I had just purchased the book, after a recommendation from another friend who cooks quite a bit. I have several other cookbooks by Yotam Ottolenghi and love his style of cooking, so it wasn't a hard sell.

Made it for lunch on the deck with John with a warm loaf of freshly baked wholemeal bread. It was delicious, there were no complaints! Fresh tomato wedges and cherry halves are mixed with basil leaves, olive oil, toasted pine nuts, salt, pepper and thinly sliced shallots pickled briefly (30 minutes) in white wine vinegar, salt and sumac.

Thought maybe you needed to see a few tomato pics--one can't have too many tomatoes, can one?

Seasonal Uprising

The cicadas have decided to rise up from the ground and out of their casings in the past week, an annual event here at Struan Farm. Their humming drone as they start to mate is one of the distinctive sounds of summer. They abandon their casings all over tree trunks and wooden fence posts. Just about anything wood but native trees for some reason. This year their numbers seem particularly high, the great oak tree in the Pet Paddock alone must have hundreds.

Kids delight in putting them all over their shirts and scaring the slightly squeamish. But that wouldn't be us, would it?

Eating from the Garden

At this time of the year I rarely buy vegetables, we're eating veggies grown here at Struan Farm almost entirely. Okay, except for lemons, cucumbers and avocados. We're enjoying just picked mesclun lettuces, zucchini, beans, tomatoes, shallots, spring onions, garlic, carrots, corn. And fresh herbs and edible flowers, of course. We eat simply, fish or poultry or meat with fresh veggies or a salad. John has even decided he likes beans this year, after I served them steamed with sliced shallots, crisped in butter. We've been rubbing ears of corn in butter and putting them directly on the grill for a quick cook too. (Yes, suffice it to say that butter is the way to John's heart!)

I planted dill in one side garden, really for the flowers:

Beet seed ("Torpedo," "Bull's Blood," and "Chioggia") has just gone in, along with silverbeet, Santana spinach, bronze fennel, mustard green and a cress seed, plus more dwarf beans and another round of edible flowers. Trying to stretch the season and crops for as long as I can.

Seedling potatoes are chitting in the garage to test if another crop can be harvested before the first frost. We might just pull that off, but I don't want to challenge Mother Nature or she'll show me who's boss, won't she? So let's say we're cautiously optimistic on the potato front and leave it at that.

Making a Wish

A few days ago I found myself pulling apart the remains of a cooked chicken here at Struan Farm, coming across the "wishbone." It prompted me to ask John if his family used to dry them and play "make a wish." Two people would hold onto either side, making wishes. The person who snapped the longer piece got her wish. If it snapped in half they both did. Yes, they did.

It turns out that this tradition of bird bones as oracle dates back to the Etruscans, who believed birds had the ability to predict future events after witnessing migrating geese. The Romans then introduced the practice as they travelled throughout Europe. The English adopted it, and the Pilgrims brought it across to Thanksgiving in the United States. Sometime in the 1800's the term "wishbone" was coined.

Quite an historic little bone this.

There's No Place Like Home

I came across this wee bird's nest in my Black Boy peach tree here at Struan Farm. It was artfully hidden, and constructed woven into the branches. The owner and his or her family have since departed for the wild blue yonder, leaving us to their poop drizzled nest and the ripening peaches.

It's the first year this tree has fruited. I'm looking forward to trying the peaches, which have a grey fuzz, rather like this nest, and red/purple flesh.