A life imagined

When we began the restoration of Towerwater, we had a dream and a vision. We imagined how we would live this dream. We could never have imagined the journey on which we were embarking. In the process, we experienced the whole spectrum of emotions. Excitement, hope, despair, joy, sadness, frustration and at times, amazement at what we had achieved.

Towerwater is such a big part of our lives. The life it offers us in return, is what we imagined but somehow also better. The experience of living in a traditional home and respecting the food, gardening and building traditions that go with it, provided a recipe for discovering the small unseen things that make for a completeness of life.

When I embarked on writing this blog four years ago, I could not have imagined how I would experience this life imagined. The blog made me look at my life through a microscope. I had to imagine how the readers might see it. I was tempted to write it in Afrikaans, my home language, because it is such a descriptive language. A language that lends itself to storytelling.

However, in the end I decided to write most of the blogposts in English. Now I am grateful for that because the blog has received over 95 000 page views; the bulk of whom are international readers. It amazes me to see the countries where the blog has been read. I try to imagine what the reader must think of this life on a restored vernacular homestead in a small town located on the edge of the Klein Karoo.

Life at Towerwater is closely tied to the 12 months and the four seasons. Activities, driven by nature, become familiar and are repeated each year. But my innate curiosity and my varied interests, always allow me to look differently at life. In the process, I have discovered the many fine threads of a golden string. Everything is tied together. Art, literature, architecture, gardening and food. These form the links. Whether from a 16^th century Spanish artist, a 14^th century cook or a 19th century plants-woman, the centuries and diverse cultures present no barrier.

Our house is rich with a simple history of life. Embracing the knowledge that came before, makes it feel as though life is too big. That one can never know everything. If one researches enough, one discovers that little in life is completely new. Somewhere in history, somebody has already contemplated the same idea.

My blog allows me to share all the wonderful things I find. It is a discovery of how to live a complete life. It is an engagement with everything that interests me. We have learnt to focus on the positives of life.  With a partner that always sees the glass as half full, it is difficult not to.

Towerwater has taught us to live with humility and gratitude. Nothing is for free. The more you put into life, the more life gives back.
    

As Henry David Thoreau said, “Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined. As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler.”

Happy birthday, blog!

Pickled lemons and pesto

As I watched the Swee Waxbills feeding on the seeds of the winter grass in the lawn, I was reminded that we are nearing the end of August. The herb garden has yet to be cleaned but until then, I am still enjoying the fresh rocket in salads. They are going into flower at the moment, but I am not going to keep them to harvest their seeds. I still have enough seeds from the previous season.

Swee Waxbills

When I picked the rocket leaves to make a pesto, I found an arum lily frog sitting on one of the leaves. I made a mental note to take the rocket out carefully so as not to harm the arum lily frog.

Rocket pesto

The vegetable beds need a last weeding before I start the planting. My seeds are all ready for sowing and I am looking forward to an abundant summer vegetable season. The coriander lasted very well through winter. Most likely because we had a fairly warm winter. They have been perfect with the curries and spicy stews that helped keep the chill at bay and make the colder days more bearable.

Coriander pesto

It is time for the current herbs to make space for the new season’s herbs. To put them to good use, I decided to make coriander and rocket pesto. That is one way of using up large numbers of leaves. Pesto is a delicious way of preserving the fresh taste for summer meals.

The lemon trees are still decked with fruit. I decided that the best way to use more of this versatile fruit is to pickle some in salt. I enjoy Yotam Ottolenghi’s recipes. They often call for pickled lemons. Something one does not find easily on the supermarket shelves anymore.

Pickling lemons is an easy way of preserving them. Especially if one is privileged to have organic lemons in abundance. Pickling lemons is a perfect way of preserving them for use when they are not available in the garden.

With my creativity inspired by the organic citrus in the garden, I decided to make a jar of bitter orange liqueur. For this, I used freshly picked Seville oranges. I took eight and washed them. After I had dried them, I removed the zest and placed it in a jar. I covered the zest with brandy. The peel will macerate on alcohol for about 8 weeks before I add a simple syrup. The homemade orange liqueur will be quite a treat to use in cocktails this summer.

The balmy days were too good to waste and we enjoyed our lunches on the lawn. A Portuguese style roast chicken, stuffed with fresh lemons and garlic and served with roasted potatoes, was enjoyed with a crisp Springfield Sauvignon Blanc. Life at Towerwater felt just right.

Daffodils and homemade limoncello

The first daffodil opened this past weekend. There it stood proud and yellow next to the patch of blue muscari flowers. The pots of flower bulbs next to the steps leading to the parking terrace, offer me a first glimpse into the progress of the flowering season. This, in the midst of the otherwise quiet wintertime at Towerwater.

On the opposite end of the garden, yellow lemons etched against a blue Karoo sky, echo the colours in the pots. The abundance of lemons make for a bright and happy spot in the sleepy garden. It was evident that we needed to use a lot of lemons over the weekend. The tree needs a breather. It is already covered in a new crop of small green lemons.

We could use many in the making of the marmalade. But that alone was not going to be enough. I decided that the best thing to do with the excess lemon crop, was to make limoncello with the peels and to use the juice to make traditional lemonade. Two very refreshing drinks for hot summer days and balmy evenings.

My problem is that our lemons are much bigger than the average lemon I see people using in recipes. I decided anyway to use the 12 lemons that the recipe for homemade limoncello called for. More lemon zest can only be good for limoncello.

I suppose I could have frozen the lemon juice to make lemon granita in summer. But, I opted for old-fashioned lemonade. It felt like an old-fashioned weekend. On the stove there was a constant stream of pots of marmalade cooking away. The dreamy aroma of hot oranges lazily wafting up the hearth chimney. The kitchen was overflowing with baskets of citrus fruit everywhere, as if the garden had exploded there with its green, yellow and orange fruit.

Peeling the zest off the oversized lemons, covered my hands with a soft yellow citrus oil. The freshly peeled lemons bounced into the porcelain sink, looking like fat little shorn sheep. The old kitchen must have experienced this activity many times before in its life. It just felt right. Nostalgia became a luxurious memory coated in citrus oil.

I am happy that the bright yellow daffodils are starting to flower. I am equally satisfied with the jar of homemade limoncello and bottles of old-fashioned lemonade in the cellar.

The rhythm of handmade marmalade

The weekend was dedicated to the making of marmalade at Towerwater. With the citrus fruit in season, it was time to make our traditional organic handmade marmalade. The added luxury that we enjoy, is that we water the garden with untreated irrigation water which flows straight from the river.

With no known chemical additives in the soil or on the plants, we rest assured that we are making the healthiest possible natural preservative-free marmalade.

There is a rhythm to the garden. Activities are pre-determined by the seasons and what each provides in terms of vegetables, fruit and herbs.

The kitchen, our hands and cutting boards, were steeped with the fresh fragrance of citrus oil. Apparently, essential orange oil is a potent anti-depressant. It has wonderful properties for energizing and lifting the mood. Perhaps it is why we were happy to make the marmalade, the added energy stimulating our creativity. 

We decided to make naartjie marmalade, our first ever. We also made a Towerwater five-fruit marmalade. We used the five different citrus fruit varieties from the trees growing alongside the vegetable garden. We used Seville and Valencia oranges, limes, lemons and naartjies. We were excited to add this unique marmalade to our collection. It captures five of the seven citrus varieties available in the garden.

We made a batch of sweet orange marmalade using Valencia oranges. I decided to make Earl Grey tea marmalade, in order to experiment with the effects of the Bergamot flavour it contains. It adds a marvellous flavour, just perfect for breakfast.

5 fruit, naartjie, Earl Grey and sweet orange marmalade

Making the four batches of marmalade became a rhythmic exercise of washing, cutting, juicing, slicing, cooking and bottling the citrus fruit. There was no need for conversation. With music playing in the background, we were working as on an assembly line. Each focused on the task at hand.

Thinly sliced peel slivers hang suspended in different hues of amber jelly. They are ready for the enjoyment they can provide at forthcoming breakfasts.

The appeal of citrus peel

With the ripening of the citrus fruit, the Towerwater kitchen has become a hive of activity. The first two batches of organic Seville oranges and Eureka lemons were used to make marmalade.

The kitchen was filled with the fragrance of fresh orange oil emanating from the slicing of peels. While Keith cut them into precise slivers, I prepared the two pots of juice, water and a muslin-wrapped parcel containing the chopped lemon, pips, flesh and extra pith.

Jars were sterilised and sugar heated. All in preparation for the making and bottling of the organic Towerwater marmalade, 2018 vintage. Making marmalade is labour intensive. One has to be present and attentive for each step. The whole day was taken up with the making of the marmalade. Keith even managed to fit in a tour of the house and garden for a small group of visitors. I think he enjoyed the distraction from cutting citrus peel.

I enjoy marmalade making. One gets to use the whole fruit. Only a little bit of the pith and pips end up in the compost. Besides, marmalade is good for you, even healthy. It contains low amounts of sodium, fat and calories. I am pleased that we can use our own organic fruit to make our favourite breakfast accompaniment.

Although we lost half our naartjie crop to theft, we still had enough to make dried naartjie peel. I love this traditional flavouring for food. This time, I made a larger batch. I remembered that first precious naartjie from the tree, and in how many different dishes I could use its dried peel.

The jar of dried peel looks attractive. Almost like a snack one should enjoy with drinks. I will definitely add some dried peel to the jar of sugar. It adds that something extra, in the form of a special flavour, to teas and baked goods.

Although we finished with the bottling of the marmalade later, into the evening, I decided to make a celebratory cocktail with organic naartjies, orange bitters, gin and triple sec. A citrus trio that made sweet music together. This was the toast to a row of jars filled with beautiful marmalade.

Citrus peel can be used in so many different ways. It was gratifying to stock the cellar with jars filled with the elements of this versatile and appealing winter fruit.