Spice Routes and History Lessons

It was not difficult to convince Keith to head off to the Irene Market at the Jan Smuts museum because he wanted to see the house. Having seen the house where Jan Smuts was born at Bovenplaats near Riebeeck West in the Western Cape he had always wanted to see the house where Jan Smuts had lived in the old Transvaal (now Gauteng).

The market at Irene was more of a craft market with a food and antique section on the grounds of the Jan Smuts museum.

Cinnamon Sticks

I walked away from the antique market with some vintage kitchen tools that will enhance my culinary offerings at Towerwater.

We bought some Hertzog cookies at the stall near the front door of the Jan Smuts house. The irony of buying a cookie named after Jan Smuts's political rival on his property did not escape us.

Mixing Spices

After visiting the house where I got quite an informative history lesson from Keith we headed to the food market. The air was filled with the smell of spices that created the illusion that one has entered an eastern spice market. The source was a stall laden with big open bags of spices. The smells, colour and fragrance of the spices were intoxicating and seductive.

RSeductive Spices

I fought off the urge to buy realising that I have to fly back to Cape Town with limited baggage. We spent some time at the stall just inhaling the fragrance of spices that have captured the imagination of people all through history. I admired the stall holder's skill of mixing spices on request by his clients for certain dishes.

Olives with Sundried Tomatoes and Feta

We were enticed by a stall selling olives and after tasting some exquisite olives we were informed that these delicacies came from the Karoo. It was like tasting home and we decided to buy a selection of different preserved olives for lunch.

Kalamata Karoo Olives

With a large ciabatta and preserves we headed home to enjoy a tapas lunch and wine from Robertson.

Olives with Lemon and Garlic

Burgundy Sunflowers and Baby Beetroot

It was strange not to pack the bakkie (utility vehicle) and head to Bonnievale. Instead I packed my suitcase and headed to the airport for a visit to Pretoria. I took a very late flight which meant that I only arrived in Pretoria after 12:30am and to bed after 1:00 am.

One of my favourite things I like to do when I am in Pretoria is to go to the Farmer's Market at the Pioneer Museum. The only problem is that it takes place from 5:30am to 9:30am on a Saturday morning.

Burgundy Sunflowers



But I like the market and half asleep we arrived at 6:00am, in the dark, at a bustling market. I cannot describe this market to anybody that has not been there. It makes Cape Town markets look like a reserved afternoon tea. This is a market with a capital "M".

There are several meat, fresh produce, bread and preserve stalls dispersed over the grounds among the trees. You have to be quick if you like something. Just buy it. Do not think for one moment that you can first look at the competition and come back if needs be, because it will be gone. I learnt the hard way and in the process missed several amazing products.

Baby Beetroot and Burgundy Sunflowers

I asked Keith not to buy flowers for the flat because I wanted to get some at the market. We bought Proteas, miniature Strelitzias and burgundy sunflowers. Yes burgundy sunflowers! My first instinct was no, this is wrong! Sunflowers must be yellow. But my curiosity for this exotic and dramatic hybrid, of one of my favourite flowers, won.

The plants and herbs that were available made me regret not having the bakkie with me. There was horse radish and turmeric, both plants I wanted for my herb garden. I could only admire the variety of plants and the innovation of the stallholders to produce something different. At each of the meat stalls there was something different to want to buy. In the end, I only bought lowveld lamb chops and sausages to compare the flavour with our Karoo counterparts.

Burgundy Sunflowers and Baby Beetroot

With bags filled with mosbolletjies (sweet brioche traditionally made with grape must and aniseed), double chocolate mousse, muffins, vegetables, meat, lettuce and far too many flowers, we headed home with the sun barely over the horizon.

The days in Pretoria are unreal. No wind and a temperate climate. At home we could have breakfast overlooking Skuilkranskopje with its multi textured variety of trees. Breakfast was flavoured with memories of Towerwater in the marmalade and fresh Pecan nut flour rusks.

Proteas in Pretoria

We were exhausted but happy.

Pecan Nut Flour Rusks

With my bag of pecan nut flour under the arm I decided to follow the recipe for rusks on the bag. Not really a baking man, I assembled the ingredients on the kitchen table and read the recipe. I had to dry the rusks at 80°C after baking but they did not say how long.

Pecan nut flour Rusks

Pecan Nut Flour from the Northern Cape

Ready for mixing

A phone call to my sister solved the problem and now I know it must be for 5 hours. I started mixing the ingredients and after I cracked the first egg into the melted butter and buttermilk I was stuck with another dilemma. The recipe called for three eggs and the first egg had a double yolk. Do I accept that this egg constitutes two eggs and only use one more or do I use two more. I decided that an egg is one egg doesn't matter how many yolks.

A Yolk Dilemma

Two panic attacks later about how much dough should be in each pan, followed by phone calls to my sister, I had two equal pans of dough ready for baking.

Ready for Baking

With two rusk pans filled with the mixture I started baking. When the bake was cool I cut them into rusks and put them into the oven  to start drying out. On Sunday morning I could pack seven and a half dozen pecan nut flour rusks away. Perfect for cold winter mornings with a good cup of Arabica coffee from Mexico from where the pecan nut originates.  

Baked and ready for slicing

The rusks are very tasty. A lot like Pecan nut biscotti I would imagine. Well it looks like I have to go and buy another bag of Pecan nut flour for biscotti or Pecan nut and fig muffins.

Ready for eating

I have included the recipe in English and Afrikaans in this blog post Pecan nut flour and ginger rusks

Life in the Time of Load Shedding

The garden is showing serious autumn colours and the tall trees across the road are throwing their long shadows over the roses and lawn. The mornings are fresher and gone are the days when shorts and a t-shirt were enough for an early morning walk through the garden.

Oaks in Autumn

On Saturday morning I took a trip to Montagu to look for a Burgundy Iceberg rose. The market was very quiet with hardly any plants for sale except for some hibiscus and bougainvillea. A quick stop at the agricultural co-op was an exposé on current affairs. Families were shopping for alternative light and power sources. Load shedding has become a lifestyle in the country. Bonnievale switches to a not so gentle hum of power generators the moment the power goes off.

Hydrangeas in shades of autumn

At the shelf for solar lamps a farmer, his wife, son and daughter were looking at the solar lamps. The wife decided to buy two solar lamp jars and the son of about eight was trying to convince his dad to buy solar lamps to put in the garden. It was the kind of lamps you stick in the ground and if you were lucky a dim glimmer may emanate from behind the bush.  In the end the father agreed to two lamps, I am sure just to get out of the co-op. Just then the daughter of four insisted that she must also have two. I could see the father’s frustration and I left them to debate the sum of solar lamps needed by a four year old. I saw them later at the till with three lamps and gathered that every four years equals a solar lamp.

A Beautiful autumn day

I decided to buy onion, rhubarb, pea and Brussels sprout seeds for the winter vegetable garden much against my earlier decision to give the garden a rest. At one of the dried fruit and nut factory shops in Montagu there was a new product on the display table in the middle of the shop. I am sure they have put that table there just for me. I cannot resist any new products and that table draws me like a magnet every time I walk into the shop. This time it was pecan nut flour and not sure how I could use it I bought a bag anyway.

An Autumn Harvest of Brinjals and courgettes

The house has got a glow of candle light at night when there is no power. Somehow it adds a new charm to the rooms with the salt crystals in the lime washed walls reflecting in the soft light.

Good Fences make Good Neighbours

Subtle signs make me aware of the changing of the  seasons at Towerwater.  It is darker when we arrive home on a Friday and groups of dry oak leaves are huddling in corners where the cooler wind has blown them.

The neatly cut green lawn gets a scattering of oak leaves every time a breeze moves through the trees.  The vegetable garden has a lot more fallow beds waiting for the next planting. The new season beetroot and carrots have joined the seasonal vegetables for the different meals.

The brinjals, Swiss chard, courgettes and salad are still producing copious harvests. In the orchard the pomegrenates and quinces are nearing the end of the harvest with the white and pink guavas, lemons, limes and granadillas coming into season.

I am tempted to slow down the sowing of vegetables to have more time for the autumn maintenance tasks on the property. The big job is the sanding and painting of the picket fence around the property before winter. I can sympathise with Tom Sawyer's feelings when faced with painting pickets.

“He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him and a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of board fence nine feet high. Life to him seemed hollow, and existence but a burden. Sighing, he dipped his brush and passed it along the topmost plank; repeated the operation; did it again; compared the insignificant whitewashed streak with the far-reaching continent of unwhitewashed fence, and sat down on a tree-box discouraged.” (From Mark Twain, Tom Sawyer, Chapter Two, 1876.)

a Winter View of the Fence on the East Side

I have to admit we are not whitewashing but using “Historical Green” enamel paint. When seeing the unpainted wooden pickets stretching out in front of you as far as you can see, I understand Tom’s sense of melancholy.

A Winter View of the Fence on the South Side

Keith wanted the fence to be authentic and complementing to the house. With determination he made all the pickets, screwed them into the cross planks with all the screw heads pointing in the same direction. Several sections had to be remade due to a flood in 2009 and also some planks not treated properly in the factory  had a shorter lifespan as a result. But I never heard him complain.

The Devastating Flood of April 2009

In the Robert Frost poem “Mending Wall” the poet questions his neighbour about  the repetitive nature of maintaining the wall between them when it seems that nature does not want fences. His neighbour responded that good fences make good neighbours. When mischievously pushed to explain his belief in this old fashioned notion, the neighbour retorted:,

" He will not go behind his father’s saying,

 And he likes having thought of it so well   

 He says again, “Good fences make good neighbors.”

I have to agree with the sentiment that good fences make good neighbours. Having a 3 meter wide canal as a fence on the one side of the property makes for even better neighbours. 

Maintenance on a historical building is part of the package. When you commit to the lifestyle that a property like this offers you, you have to keep this in mind. 

Unlike Tom, all gladness does not leave me when I need to do maintenance on the property. I just have to prioritise and reduce the amount of garden work in autumn. 

When I spend less time on gardening in autumn I instinctively enjoy the memory of the summer garden.

Quinces Poached in Pomegranate Juice

Some years ago Philip brought me the cookbook “Jerusalem” when visiting from London. More than 26 years of friendship brings a different understanding that is more instinctive in the way one engages with the other person. I just love the recipes in “Jerusalem” and thank Philip for just being who he is, the way he understands me and introducing me to Ottolenghi’s cooking.

Quinces in Pomegranate Juice

I am an instinctive collector and after  “Jerusalem” I started collecting all Yotam Ottolenghi’s cookbooks. Now I finally have Ottolenghi, Jerusalem, Plenty and Plenty More. The last two books focus on vegetables and how vegetable dishes are more than just a side dish. Apart from being by the same author, the books had to be by the same publisher. Somehow I always need to make my collections a bit more challenging.

Served with Double Cream Yogurt and Mint

The food in the book has a strong middle eastern basis with a western twist to them. I read some of the ingredients of the recipes and it is like reading the planting plan for the vegetable garden. Eggplant, beetroot, courgettes, yellow, red and striped tomatoes, peppers, corn, etc.

The first recipe I made from Plenty More was the quinces poached in pomegranate juice. The quince, pomegranate, orange zest, star aniseed and vanilla pod created this amazing fragrant dish with the most incredible colour. The recipe calls for it to be served with clotted cream and shredded fresh mint. I replaced the clotted cream with double cream yogurt to stay on the healthy side.

Now I have three new cookbooks to help me make the most of the produce of the garden. 

The Solitude of Roses

The Easter weekend was wet and we could relax into enjoying house and garden. We had 12 mm of rain and the garden was clearly enjoying it.  It was the perfect weather for pickled fish and hot cross buns. An Easter tradition that is as Cape as the whitewashed thatched cottages that grace the landscape from the sea to the winelands.

With the downpour muted by thatch, we had tea in the drawing room with a full view of the rosarium that was brightening up the grey weather. Sipping the fragrant Earl Grey Rose tea it was as though the rosarium had been infused in the cup each time one brought it to one's nose.

The Rosarium in April 

We could enjoy the summer harvest from the garden on tapas platters with wine from the vineyards which are taking on serious Autumn hues.

The song "April Showers" by Al Jolson is about the celebration of Spring but in the southern hemisphere we are welcoming Autumn with the first April showers.

Walking in the garden, everything smelled fresh and with hardly anyone outdoors we could enjoy the solitude of the roses - bejeweled with raindrops that magnified the colours.

Towerwater had a magic Easter with mushrooms and bunnies on the lawn.