Snackles at sundown

During one of my visits to Pretoria in 2015, when Keith was still working there, we went to a garden market at the erstwhile home of Prime Minister, General Jan Smuts, in Irene. In the antiques section, I came across a kitchen tool that fascinated me. It had a wooden handle attached to what I would describe as a metal comb with three teeth. Fixed on each of the ends of the “teeth”, was in sequence heavy metal shapes in the form of a square, circle and triangle.

I bought the tool hoping to do some research on it later. My only clue was in the name “Snackle”, visible on the metal shapes. I discovered that it was manufactured circa 1958 in the town of Brakpan in the old Transvaal Province. The company also manufactured Jaffle irons, used to make toasted sandwiches on gas, electric as well as open flame cooking.

Jaffle iron  (image source: https://kreatiewekosidees.com/2013/11/12/snackle-iron/)

The Snackle is a tool with which to make sweet or savoury casings for fillings for finger snacks. One can still buy them. They are based on the same principle as rosettes, traditional Norwegian and Swedish Christmas cookies that come in butterfly, star or circular shapes. I remember eating the snacks at church fetes, especially the butterfly shapes, dusted with castor sugar.

Scandinavian rosette iron (source: https://pinchmysalt.com/scandinavian-rosettes-recipe/)

Scandinavian rosettes (source: https://pinchmysalt.com/scandinavian-rosettes-recipe/)

I learned that I had bought myself a three in one Snackle iron. If you are lucky, you might even find one online with its original packaging and instructions.

Snackle iron (source: http://inenomdiehuis.blogspot.com/2013/07/snackle-resep.html)

I decided that it was time to try out the Snackle iron. After finding more than enough information and recipes online, I thought these little casings to be perfect for use in the preparation of cocktail snacks.

Snackles fresh out of the hot oil

I followed the instructions from the original instruction booklet and used the recipe for salt snackles.  

   

Recipe for salt casings

1 Egg

125ml Water

125ml Milk,

1 ml Salt

½ ml Pepper

250 ml Cake flour

Method:

Beat the egg, milk and water together.

Mix in the dry ingredients to make a runny batter. (It reminds me of pancake batter.)

Heat enough oil to cover the shapes of the iron in a deep enough pan. Heat the oil with the Snackle iron submerged. Shake off the excess oil and carefully dip the shapes in the batter (don’t let the dough go over the edge of the shapes though). Place in the oil for ±25 seconds. The casings are ready when they are light brown and crispy. After the first Snackles, one does not have to pre-submerge the iron in the oil. After removing the casings, simply repeat the process by dipping the iron in the batter and then the boiling oil.

Place the casings on absorbing paper.

Use fillings that are not too wet as it will make the otherwise crisp casings soggy.

 

My successful snackles

Things that can go wrong.

If there is too little oil on the Snackle iron the first time, the batter will stick to the shapes.

If the Snackle iron is removed from the batter too quickly, the batter will fall off.

If the oil is too hot the batter will also fall off.

 

Snackles with fillings

My first attempt was frustratingly disastrous. But, if your oil is hot enough, the whole experience is quite fun. The end results are snacks as diverse and interesting as your imagination. Did I mention that it is a very economical way of making snacks? This mix can give you up to 60 casings.

Snackles and sundowners

I think it the perfect snack-maker for sundowners over the festive season.

On losing lemons and celebrating citrus

After weeks of trying to rescue a favourite lemon tree, I had to accept that it was not going to recover. We decided to remove the tree. It appears that there might have been a problem with the soil. This could have been caused by seepage from the canal, resulting in a swamping of the surrounding soil. We decided to remove the soil around the ailing lemon tree. We then disinfected the sides and bottom of the resulting hole and the bordering earth.  The removed soil I then used to repair some soil erosion damage at the municipal dump. Much to the delight of the resident manager.

Homemade Limoncello

We decided that life is too short to plant small trees. This meant collecting a well-grown replacement specimen from a nursery near the town of Tulbagh. Tulbagh is located about 130 km from Bonnievale, in a mountain basin known as “Het Land van Waveren”. The trip to the nursery provided for quite an adventure. Slowly, the landscape changed from green vineyards and orchards to freshly harvested wheat fields. The nursery itself too, held for a pleasant discovery. I was amazed by its size and the generous selection of garden plants. I had known it primarily as a tree nursery and had not expected such variety.

Tulbagh Nursery - garden plant section

I was briefly distracted by the selection of hydrangeas. I was contemplating where I could plant some in the Towerwater garden when a nursery employee asked if he could assist us. I was reminded why we were there and decided to focus on the task at hand.

A tempting hydrangea 

Their selection of citrus trees is quite extensive. Their larger trees under the shade netting was not quite the size for which I was hoping. After explaining my preference, the nurseryman’s face lit up. He explained that what we were looking for, was to be found in another section of the garden around the corner. We followed him, but after walking briskly for 15 minutes along a gravel road, I was starting to wonder if I should not have brought my bottle of water along.

Tulbagh Nursery - citrus selection

It was a hot day. Although most of the walk was in the shade, we could feel the 36° C in the still air.  Suddenly, we walked into a clearing. There before us was a forest of citrus and other trees. The sight of the trees made me wish that we had more space to plant more of them.

The baby lemon

I chose a Eureka lemon tree of 2.2 metres tall. The nurseryman looked impressed with my choice. He pointed to a tiny lemon fruit on the tree saying I would not regret my choice. At that point I was hoping that I didn’t get charged extra for a tree already ‘in fruit’.

Tulbagh Nursery - rose section

As we walked back to the office, the nurseryman conducted an animated discussion on Eureka and Lisbon lemons. I was enlightened on their rootstocks, pip and juice quantity and the size of their thorns.  We were happy with our choice of the Eureka lemon.

He used a tractor and trailer to fetch our lemon and brushed aside my concerns that the tree will not fit into our bakkie (pick-up). Apparently, I had just to leave everything to him, something I gladly did. I joined Keith in the rose section of the nursery where he was selecting roses to introduce into the rosarium. In the rosarium, two yellow roses particularly, were not performing and were up for replacement. The newly selected rose bushes were strong and healthy. Keith selected “Amber Queen” for the Floribunda and “Casanova” for the Hybrid Tea positions in the rosarium.

Our future lemons

With the lemon tree and two roses in the back of the bakkie, we decided to return home via an antique store in the neighbouring town of Ceres, located 21kms from Tulbagh. In no time, we had identified three pieces of furniture that could work in the Victorian cottage in Cape Town. The lemon tree- filled bakkie prevented the purchase and we decided to make another antique-buying trip later in the year, or early next year.

Back home at Towerwater, we immediately planted the roses and lemon tree. Suddenly it seemed as if we had never lost a lemon tree. The single lemon and a couple of blossoms on the new tree held good omens for marmalade making next year. 

After a hot day and vigorous gardening escapade, we could relax on the lawn at sunset with a Limoncello Martini. A special feature of the martini was that it was mixed with our own Limoncello. Limoncello that had been made with some of the last lemons provided by our sadly departed favourite lemon tree. We could celebrate the memory of the old lemon tree and the promises of the new, now freshly planted, for the Towerwater garden.

Christmas cakes and cocktails

The months of November and December each year seems to be the time for dusting off traditions as we start preparing for Christmas. Memories are rekindled by familiar fragrances of spices and glazed fruit. I must admit that the aromas bring with them a sense of warmth that I associate with winter.

Some retail stores have been displaying and advertising Christmas decorations and special deals since September. I am sure that it is not my imagining that it seems to happen earlier and earlier each year. With competing retailers trying to beat the competition by being first with their Christmas fare, one can only wonder where it will end.

Christmas cakes fresh out of the oven

I still love tradition. The Christmas decorations will only come out on the 24^th of December at the end of the Advent season. My first acknowledgement of Christmas is the baking of our Christmas cake. A relatively new personal tradition for me. My mom used to bake them and then my sister after her. Last year, my sister was recovering from surgery and was not able to bake one for us. I decided to try my hand at it and bake one myself. The result was two fairly good cakes, even if I have to say so myself. Last year, I used a recipe that is more than a 100 years old.

Fruit and nut mix with green figs, watermelon and crystallised ginger

This year, I did not have crystalised Seville orange peel from our garden, so I could not make the same cake. Being more confident with my baking skills though, I decided to make a fruitcake with some other homemade ingredients. I had some green fig, and wild watermelon preserves that my sister had made. I decided to add them to this year’s cake to keep it uniquely Towerwater.

On a hot summer’s day, the Towerwater kitchen was filled with wintery aromas. Fruit soaked in brandy, dutched cocoa, cinnamon, ginger, allspice and vanilla. It made me wonder why I am actually baking a cake that is more suited for a colder time of the year when we do not have a lot of fresh fruit around. Here I was, making a cake with dried and preserved fruit when the countryside is offering an abundance of fresh fruit, apricots, peaches, plums and berries. Christmas time in the southern hemisphere really calls for cool refreshing flavours and not heavily spiced rich fruit cakes.

I suppose it is time to add new traditions to the Christmas meal at Towerwater. A meal that will complement the temperature of a hot Karoo summer. Having acknowledged that, I do love fruit cake. Nothing quite says Christmas in the same way and the taste of it speaks of the warmth of family and friendship. A piece of fruit cake with a good cup of Assam tea under the oaks in the afternoon is as good as a cocktail at sundown.

Making the baking strips

The tins ready for the batter

Preparing the tins for the cakes in fact takes longer than preparing the batter. My friend Susan showed me how to make baking strips with aluminium foil and damp paper towels to wrap around the outside of the tin to ensure that the cake bakes evenly. Not faster on the outside than in the centre. With the tins lined with baking paper on the inside and the protective baking strips on the outside, my cakes were finally ready for the oven.

I could clean up the kitchen and join Keith under the big oak with two blue gin and tonics. I love blue cocktails. With Six Dogs blue gin and Fitch and Leeds’s blue tonic, I could double up on the blue for our cocktails. Sitting back with my blue gin and tonic, I could not help noticing how closely the colour of the drink matched the blue Karoo sky.

 

It was like drinking the Karoo sky. Blue, light, refreshing and a complete antithesis to the cake baking in the oven. 

A garden where lemons grow

We have been blessed by a bountiful supply of lemons from the garden. The lemon tree is such a generous tree. Bearing fruit for most of the year, it supplies an important ingredient for most of our meals. From starters, soups and main courses, to desserts and cocktails, fresh organic lemon often features in each.

Lemons add or lift the flavours of any dish. Although covered in fruit, our lemon tree began looking very unhappy. Coincidently, we decided to transplant the strawberries to a new bed as where they had been growing alongside the lemon tree, they too were looking unhappy.

On lifting the strawberries, we soon discovered that most of the bed had become matted with the roots of a poplar tree flourishing in a neighbouring property. We transplanted the strawberries to a ‘safe’ bed. Recovering the original bed meant the removal of the invasive tree roots and applying a generous feeding of compost and organic chicken manure. It was decided to install a battery of eight large compost bins in the recovering bed. This, it is hoped, will further assist the natural recovery of the soil.

Removing the poplar roots from around the lemon tree proved more difficult. We decided to trench dig along the boundary and chop off all the invasive roots. The process of rescuing the lemon tree commenced with relieving the undernourished tree of all its many lemons. With a basket of lemons, the scene was set for some trusted lemon recipes. I decided to make pickled lemons. I enjoy using them in middle eastern dishes. My other ‘go-to’ recipe for lemons is Limoncello. This is a refreshing and much enjoyed summer aperitif.

While ‘Operation Lemon tree Rescue’ is in full swing, at least we will still have some reminders of its fruit. We take care not to waste any of the fruit. Both the peel and the whole fruit get used.   

On a very stormy weekend, I could push my concerns for our favourite lemon tree to the back of my mind as I relaxed in the big library chair reading my latest book acquisition, on lemon trees.

I miss going to bookshops and browsing for hours before deciding on which to buy. With hardly any bookshops left in central Cape Town, shopping for books has become a very one-dimensional online experience. All I have to go on to make an informed choice, is a picture and a description. Gone is that first meeting with the book on a bookshelf. Touching it, reading the introduction, looking at the chapters, and marveling at the images; and when you are completely seduced, taking it to the cashier where your book is placed in a paper bag ready to go home with you.

Online shopping is so impersonal. Furthermore, I don’t like surprises where books are concerned. When I came across the book ‘The land where lemons grow’ by Helen Attlee, online, I was intrigued by the title. After reading some reviews, I decided to place an order. The book was available in paperback from most online stores, but I still prefer my books in hardcover, if I can get one. 

I placed my special order for a hardcover copy with an online store. After a four week wait, my book arrived. I was pleasantly surprised. Helena Attlee has written a book that seduced me from the first chapter. She combines travel writing with history, recipes, horticulture and art. Reading the book, gives me a new perspective on Italy's cultural, moral, culinary and political past, and all of it through the story of lemons.

Reading the book makes me want to go back to Florence and visit the Citrus Garden at Castello, one of the oldest country residences of the Medici family having been acquired in 1477.

The book is a pleasure. The experience of preserving the freshly picked lemons was enlivened as the fragrance of lemon oil hung about me in the old kitchen. I pictured Helen Attlee’s prose. Preparing some of the book’s recipes, brings an element of the experience of the writer from the pages into my pots.

I enjoyed reading about the horticulturist’s success in saving some of the more than 100- year old trees in the gardens of Castello. It serves as an inspiration to save our lemon tree. The importance of my dream of having a garden with Bergamots, Citron and other fruit trees like the Mispel (Medlar), that were so much a part of historic gardens, was confirmed after reading this delicious book. Now I need to find a bigger garden to accommodate them all!

“A miracle is hushed; all passions are swept aside. Even the poor know that richness, the fragrance of the lemon trees.” -  The Lemon Trees, Eugenio Montale

Homemade Gravadlax and White Pinotage

Weeks ago, a friend’s art exhibition took us to the charming Boland town of Wellington and the Breytenbach Art gallery. A beautiful sunny winters day turned into a day of discovery and reconnecting.  The Breytenbach Centre hosts an interesting collection of shops, galleries and a theatre venue.

The Centre was formerly the house where Breyten Breytenbach spent his teenage years. Breyten Breytenbach was born in the town of Bonnievale. At the time, our house belonged to his uncle Nick Olivier. We purchased the property from 'Oom Nick' in 1991.

The Centre houses a bookshop that is a treasure trove of Africana and other amazing books. I could not resist exploring the shelves. Although there were many books I wanted to buy, I resisted temptation. In the end I was happy to leave knowing that at least I had discovered a new bookshop.

The Centre hosts a wine gallery as well. It is marketed as a wine and brands gallery, specialising in liquid art and the art of wine. I am always curious to explore new concepts. I soon realised that wine labels have become an art form with elaborately designed shrink sleeve labels. One wine attracted my attention. It was a White Pinotage. I had had a White Merlot before but could not resist acquiring some of the White Pinotage. I planned to serve it on a bright spring day with something new and special from the Towerwater kitchen.

We recently discovered a new source of fresh fish located in the neighbourhood where Keith grew up. With Keith enjoying a very active retirement restoring his family home, it was inevitable that we would explore the neigbourhood. We discovered a neigbourhood that has changed but with many previous neighbours or their descendants welcoming him back and reconnecting. It all seems so familiar in a strange way.

While Keith is immersing himself in restoring and renovating his family home, I am discovering new sources of culinary finds. I just love to have access to good quality fish. Fish as in Norwegian salmon, tuna, swordfish, hake and any other special catch of the day.

I have become a frequent visitor in Vredehoek. I am finding reasons to buy fish and discover new ways for its preparation. I even ventured to make my own Gravadlax. The preceding warm week had prompted me to prepare a homemade Gravadlax to serve for a lunch at Towerwater.

I bought the fresh Norwegian salmon steaks and proceeded to cure them for 48 hours. This would ensure that the Gravadlax would be ready to serve on the lawn with a bottle of chilled white pinotage. Unfortunately, the weather had other plans. A cold front brought much needed rain to Bonnievale on the Sunday.

The weather could not stop me from having the lunch that I had planned for three days. I looked forward to the lunch of homemade Gravadlax and White Pinotage. It did not disappoint. We enjoyed the homemade Gravadlax on freshly baked bread in a cosy dining room, watching the rain through the windows.

I am happy to add two new items to our summer menu at Towerwater. The fun part of making one’s own Gravadlax is that it is so easy. In addition, one can experiment with the flavours.

Homemade Gravadlax

Using: 2 x 500g pieces skin-on deboned salmon fillets, both cut from the centre of the fish.

Ingredients for the cure:

175g flaky sea salt
100g golden demerara sugar
75g white sugar
1 tsp milled black peppercorns
zest of 1 lemon
a bunch of dill, finely chopped
2 tbsp gin

To serve:
Lemon slices
Dijon mustard sauce
small bunch (about 20g) dill, finely chopped
Rye bread
Crème Fraiche

Method

Pat the salmon dry with kitchen paper. Remove any stray small bones. If there are, use a pair of tweezers to pull them out. Set the salmon fillets aside.

Mix the salt, sugar, peppercorns, lemon zest, and chopped dill. Take a piece of cling wrap. Lay the first fillet of salmon skin-side down, brush each fillet with gin and then pack the cure over the flesh. Place the 2nd fillet, flesh-side down. Roll the fillets in cling film to create a package but leave the sides open to allow the moisture to drain.

Place the fish in a shallow baking dish and place a brick or similar weight, wrapped in cling wrap on top of the fish. Place in the fridge for at least 48 hours, turning the fish over every 12 hours or so. The longer you leave it, the more cured it will be.

To serve, unwrap the fish and rinse off the marinade and dry with kitchen paper. Brush the fillets with Dijon mustard and chopped dill. Put back in fridge for 3 – 12 hours before serving. Use a sharp knife and slice your fish at an angle into long thin slices, leaving the skin behind. Serve the sliced fish on a large platter or individual plates with rye bread, Crème Fraiche and lemon slices.