Stringing peas along

I planted ‘Green Feast’ and ‘Mange Tout’ peas for winter and they soon showed their need for support and structure. I started the structures and completed the supports for the ‘Green Feast’ but could not finish the supports for the ‘Mange Tout’. I was more concerned about the ‘Green Feast’ peas because they like climbing and are fast growers.

With the one side of the bed of peas complete, I was confident that Shawn had a good example to copy for the other.

When I phoned Shawn in the week to discuss the work that needed to be done, I could hear the smile in his voice when he informed me that the other structure had been completed. He proudly informed me that he took out the structure I had built and had redesigned it to be stronger and better.

I could hear the concern in his voice when he told me that the peas on my structure were now growing better than the ones on his structure. I could not resist taunting that perhaps the peas prefer my poor design to his improved design. I could hear his smile drop to the ground and crawl under the rosemary bush.

I could not keep him suspended in that state and when I informed him that there will be a difference in growth patterns because they are different peas, I could hear the smile come back in his voice. Were he not holding the phone, I am sure he would have punched the air with a victorious ‘Yes’.

The peas have their structures, and although I prefer Shawn’s improved design, in mitigation, my design does lend a feel of authentic rustic design to the vegetable garden. 

Fear of falling fruit

The purple granadilla or passion fruit (Passiflora edulis) plant near the compost bins has grown tired of being fenced in on its trellis and decided to grow into the tree above.

At first I thought fine. Go where no one can cut you back and enjoy your freedom because the ripe fruit will fall to the ground and I will just pick it up.  Now looking up at the fruit hanging near the top of the tree and higher than the cottage roof, it might not have been the best idea.

The falling fruit can potentially hurt one if you should be hit. The winter crop is actually going to be bigger than the summer crop and the fruit looks very healthy. I will harvest seeds to make more plants for sharing with friends and family. Everybody needs some passion in their lives even if it is only in the form of a passion fruit plant.

The flowers are of the most incredible design and one can only marvel at nature’s artistry in the different flowers.

The plant loves its spot next to the compost bin where it enjoys all the run off when we water the bins to advance their composting process.

But, for now I will use the pathway behind the cottage with caution and monitor the ripeness of the fruit to determine when they might drop. I wonder if the fear of falling fruit can be called ‎’fructuscaderephobia’? Well I am not going to develop this phobia. I trust Mother Nature to be kind and she will only let the fruit drop when they are heavy with dew.

In the mornings I can pick up the cool purple offerings that dropped overnight. If the falling should take place at tea time I might get a fright, but for now my fascination with the sheer height of this plant surpasses my fear of the falling fruit.

The Naked Cardamom Cream Cake

Susan phoned me to let me know that my order of almonds had arrived. We decided to do Sunday lunch to exchange some conversation and produce. She would also bring the mountain fynbos honey for Judy that we would take to Cape Town. Michael headed off on the yearly game hunt early on Sunday morning and could not join us.

His presence was missed but his absence held the promise of future culinary delights and we gladly raised a glass to a good hunt.

With an instruction from Susan not to make dessert, because she was bringing a surprise early birthday cake, I focussed on the rest of the meal. Having found kaiings at the butchery, I decided to make a kaiings and smoked snoek couscous starter and rolled rib of lamb with roasted brinjals and potatoes for the main course.

The surprise birthday cake was a Cardamom Cream Cake. The cake was decorated in “naked cake” fashion (leaving the sides unfrosted).

Susan’s own words describe the reason for this approach best. “I am into this look at the moment because I love the rustic look. It’s the way you can view the ‘anatomy’ of the cake and especially in the case of this cake. The naked look held down the mega-caloric monstrosity of a cake! Less to end up making one’s own nakedness not a pretty sight to see!!! Ha!”

Looking at the nutritional analysis of the cake it might have been our last birthdays.

“Nutritional analysis per serving (8 servings)

1126 calories; 64 grams fat; 38 grams saturated fat; 1 gram trans-fat; 17 grams monounsaturated fat; 3 grams polyunsaturated fat; 118 grams carbohydrates; 1 gram dietary fibre; 80 grams sugars; 21 grams protein; 187 milligrams cholesterol; 663 milligrams sodium.”

We were gladly seduced by the decadence of this amazing cake and in true Susan fashion she made some of the ingredients herself, like the ricotta cheese, to create another masterpiece.

The original creator of the cake, Melissa Clark was inspired by her best friend’s favourite desert, for whose birthday she made it. The favourite dessert was Ras malai (an Indian dessert of cheese dumplings poached in a cardamom-infused milk and sugar syrup).

The cake was decorated with homemade candied pink rose petals and crushed pistachios adding to the exotic deliciousness.  

The joy of melancholy

Driving home on Friday the near-full moon was rising over the Langeberg while the sun was still shining on the peaks making for a magical play of light. The days of arriving in the light at Towerwater are clearly over. We arrive with the house and parking area lit with the warm glow of lamps in the colder evenings.

Evenings at Towerwater are getting colder and the mornings are shrouded in fog. A blanket of fog covers the valley until about midday, creating a magical world of wet spider-webs.  In the garden, crystal droplets capture a whole world in each reflection.

The garden is slowing down and getting ready for a well-deserved sleep. The roses are losing their leaves and there are still new blooms opening. The rosarium is becoming more of a spiritual experience where the lines and forms of the plants are accentuated by the starkness of bare branches. Different coloured blooms are more visible. The individuality of each bloom echoes in a soft accent in the arrangement of the stark lines of the leafless plants.

It is as if Nature is busy with ikebana arrangements in the garden; focusing on the beauty of the other parts of the rosebush, instead of the profusion of blooms. It is as though Nature wants you to look at the parts that are overlooked in the riotous growth of spring and summer. The silence of the morning with its stark monotone fog arrangement emphasises the empty branches of the roses and reminds me of the spiritual aspect of ikebana.

Now is the time to slow down and appreciate the simplicity of the structure of things that supports the joy of summer. Winter teaches us to appreciate differences and the importance of change. In the end there is one structure supporting the joy and melancholy of life and now is the time to see it and appreciate it.

It is time to slow down and appreciate the things unseen in busy seasons. This can be a metaphor for life. Sit down and let Nature teach you. 

Summer colours on an autumn plate

It seems like the tomato plants prefer the cooler autumn days after a very hot summer during which they did not perform as well as in previous years.  I sprayed the plants with an Epsom salt solution that seems to agree with them.

They look healthier and happier and are producing delicious crops of multi-coloured tomatoes. The bright colours of the orange, yellow, black and green tomatoes make for summer coloured dishes on the cooler days of autumn.

Tomato salad with Coppa

The flavours of the tomatoes are varied and intense and I only have to add salt, pepper and some fresh basil to really make a tomato come to life. I can taste the individual colours of the tomatoes in the visually pleasing starter that brightens up lunch, under the brown and bare oak tree. 

Tomato tart

Orange, green and yellow tomatoes flirting with cheese and basil

Our daily bread

Bread must be the oldest prepared food in the world. In literature and art one can find early references to bread. Like a wall painting of an ancient Egyptian making batter for bread in the 5th Dynasty (2500-2350 BC).

Pot Bread

Nothing beats homemade bread. It has become an art to make wood fired breads, floor breads and traditional sourdough breads. In Cape Town, one can find artisanal bread (the new buzzword) in bakeries walking distance from each other.

I like baking bread because it gives the kitchen at Towerwater an authentic aroma and feel.  Home baked bread is a very personal offering to serve with a meal. It is an indication to one’s guests that you put effort into the meal and that their company is appreciated.

The bread ready to be baked

Taking time to make the most basic ingredient of a meal ‘bread’, is for me a sign of love and care. After all, bread and company are synonymous.  The word ‘company’ has its origins in combining two Latin words it seems, ‘com’ being ‘with’ and the word ‘panis’ being ‘bread’.

I have to admit I tend to make things that I am confident in making, like white bread. It is light and rises beautifully without effort. I also have to admit that I have a weakness for traditionally prepared food and ingredients.

When I encountered   stone-ground unbleached brown bread flour from a Southern Cape mill at the local Supermarket, I was immediately tempted to try it after reading their description of how the flour is produced on the package label.

Homemade bread

The wheat is grown biologically and the grain stone-milled in the traditional way without additives, preservatives or bleaches. I bought the 2.5kg bag of flour right there and then.

My enthusiasm waned after my first attempt at making bread with the flour. It did not rise the way that I am used to and the breads looked a bit flat. But to me anyway, the taste was amazing. I discovered that I needed to add some white bread flour to increase the gluten content of the dough which assists proofing.

After I introduced the white flour to the mix, my dough rose beautifully and I had a nice full loaf. Now to experiment with homemade fresh yeasts, start using the wood-fired oven in the Towerwater kitchen and make the ultimate authentic traditional bread. Something Keith as a bread lover is very keen on trying.

Oom en Tante sop

Dit is seker net in Afrikaans wat geregte na familie kan klink. Oom en tante sop is een van die geregte wat kom kuier in die herfs en winter. Soos die dae korter en kouer raak word maaltye gekenmerk deur geregte wat stadiger en langer tye in dik boom swart ysterpotte spandeer.

Oom en tante sop

Bredies en soppe wat stadig op oop vlamme prut en wat die kombuis vir ure vul met hul verleiende swaar reuke van speserye en kruie, laat mens instinktief die soet hanepoot, muskadel of port in die kelder gaan haal.

Oom en tante sop soos ek verstaan is ‘n tradisionele gereg uit die Overberg en met die weer wat beloftes van reën inhou besluit ek om ‘n pot oom en tante sop te maak.

Gebreekte mielies en boontjies

Oom en tante sop word gemaak van gebreekte wit mielies (of soos ons hom ken kaboem mielies) en boontjies in gelyke hoeveelhede.  Oom en tante hou van murg bene en ‘n varksooltjie.  Gee vir hom so ‘n lekker kruie ruikertjie (bouquet garni) met sout en peper en jy wens dit is vir altyd winter.

Murgbene en 'n varksooltjie

Saam met oom en tante het ek besluit om ‘n brood van steengemaalde meel vanuit Heidelberg te maak so om sommer so in die omgewing te bly kuier met my bestandele vir die gereg.

Brood van steengemaalde meel

So sit ons toe op ‘n reënerige naweek en kuier om die geelhout kombuistafel met oom en tante in ‘n kombuis wat ruik na vars gebakte brood wat jou sommer na jou ma laat verlang.

Shadows of former Seasons

With the repairs of the Victorian cottages in Woodstock in full swing, escaping to Towerwater is a heaven-sent reprieve. With two teams of contractors busy on the cottages, one replacing and painting roofs and the other repairing and repainting the external features, the normally peaceful spaces have become hives of activity.

We have decided to proceed slowly with repairs and repainting work on the inside of the house at Towerwater. Outdoors, the repainting of pickets and gates, and the lime-washing of boundary walls and pillars is progressing slowly but surely.

Towerwater has become a sanctuary of sanity over weekends where hot tea and slow food restores our beings and prepares us for another busy week ahead.

Arriving on Fridays, we are greeted by a leaf strewn lawn and the bare branches on the trees remind us that winter is around the corner.

The leaves arrive in good time to replace the regular lawn cuttings which are added to the compost bins. The lawn is not growing as fast anymore, as we head into winter, and so it is no longer necessary to mow it every week.

The shadows on the property are getting longer as the sun’s path follows a more northerly route as it is passes over the countryside. The rosarium spends most of the day in the shadows of the blue-gum trees growing across the road. They seem to love the cooler arrangement while they prepare for their winter rest after a very hot summer.

The warm sound of the chirping crickets has been replaced by the cooler croaking of the bullfrogs hunting insects in the evenings.

The chilled MCC and white wines is being replaced by ports and red wine, echoing the autumn reds and browns of the garden.

Heading for winter is like taking deep and relaxing breaths after the marathon of a hot summer. The activities have not slowed down but have instead been replaced by new ones.

The shadows of autumn are familiar, as I recognise them from previous years.