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.

I looked back, and it was spring

Missing one weekend in spring at Towerwater is like being away for several weeks on end. It is as if the garden explodes into spring. We left two weekends ago with the oak trees still covered in brown leaves. On our return, the trees were covered in new green leaves with the brown leaves mostly discarded on the lawn.

Apple blossoms

There is no sign that the lawn was scarified three weeks ago. The lush green lawn echoes the fresh green oak leaves. The hot spring days of the last two weeks have worked their magic on the garden. There is new growth everywhere.

The last of the winter oak leaves on the new lawn

In the orchard, the trees are covered in tiny fruit with the Santa Rosa plum still in blossom. The apples and pears have joined in the exuberance and have started pushing out their blossoms. 

The lawn three weeks after being scarified

A cold front brought welcome soaking showers on Sunday. That will spur the garden on in growth spurts like no other watering can do. There is a special magic in rainwater. It must be the oxygen in rain water that makes the difference. There is more oxygen in rain water than in tap water. After a good downpour like we had on Sunday, it is as if the plants could clear their lungs. That is why they now look so dramatically refreshed.

With their leaves washed clean, the process of photosynthesis is much more efficient. The light that reaches the plants leaves is no longer filtered by a layer of dust.

A wet orchard

As much as we regretted not enjoying lunch on the lawn, we rejoiced in the welcome rain. By the time we left on Sunday, there was already more than 20mm of rain in the gauge. With restricted water usage from the canal until December, we are very grateful for the unexpected blessing in late September.

There is no better gardener than nature herself.