The Tribal Tomato

The messy connection

I wasn't looking forward to it. I was secretly glad when it got postponed. The weather was getting too cold - I was thinking it wasn't ever going to happen.

But the main protagonists were determined. My daughter kept colluding with my best friend, who had wanted to do it all her life. A date was set. The ingredients were added to the shopping list. There was no getting out of it.

I was new to all this. How were we going to get in the mood? Who would start? Would we need towels for after?

The day arrived. We went to my friend's house, armed with ingredients, a change of clothes and a black plastic garbage bag. She made cups of tea. We ate apple pie, with custard. It was all very civilised. She suggested we watch a few videos to get in the mood.

In the end, the act itself only took 10 minutes, like a first-time adolescent fling. All heightened expectation. Over before you could blink.

Still, it bought out my inner slapstick. We laughed our heads off, running around like children, pounding each other. And my goodness, did we get messy.

We have no photos. There is no proof.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, click here.

Olive recipes galore

In my post on olive enigmas I promised a reputable olive recipe.

I have been referred to not one, but three good looking recipes from friend Dorothy. These are from the book 'Preserving' (Time Life Good Cook series). 

 

The latest report on her own green olives in wood ash is that, 'Peter has now transferred the green olives from the ash slurry into brine with flavorings. They are looking good'. 

We are still in the salting phase with our own dark beauties. I think we will soon transfer to jars. The  'Olives noires' recipe looks good to me - simple and straightforward.

To see the recipes for Black Olives (Olives Noires), Green Olives in Wood Ash (Olives Vertes a la Picholine) and Black Olives in Brine (Olives Noires en Saumure), click on Download Olives recipes.

Happy preserving.

More about sharing figs (plus stopping to smell the roses)

What do figs, roses, and a dapper gent have in common? Read on to find out in this very amusing story from Doreen about sharing the spoils from her garden.

'We have three large fig trees and one lemon tree. We benefited from all the gardening and planting by the Greek family who owned the house before we bought it.

We have always shared the figs and lemons from our trees. Dorothy (see the previous post on preserving figs) picks the figs each year, as do my two daughters-in-law and my brother. They also pick the lemons. 

My husband Albert loves the scent of roses, so our front garden is also filled with fragrant rose bushes. People knock on the door and ask if they can pick one for themselves. One father had a little boy with him and they asked if they could pick a few for the child to give to his mother. We prefer people to ask, and of course we always say yes. Once there was a well dressed man who screamed his car to a halt, jumped out and picked a yellow rose for his lapel. Albert was just driving up and saw him do it and shouted "thief" at him! Then we rolled about laughing at the guilty look on his face as he jumped back into his car!

I do not have a sense of smell. I have never had one. One day this lady stopped by the front gate and asked me if I knew the names of the beautiful smelling roses, and I had to admit to her that I did not. Then she said "but they smell so beautiful don't they?" I had to reply "yes" in case she thought I was a total f-wit who not only did not know the names, but could not smell the roses in my own garden!'

Figgy adventures and olive enigmas

Figgy delights

My friend Dorothy was motivated to send in a recipe and pictures for Green Fig Preserve following the recent post on autumn seasonal produce. This recipe is divinely simple, using underripe figs (that means you can pick them before the birds get to them).

She says: 'I have recently made Green Fig Preserve from Claudia Roden's "New Book of Middle Eastern Food". We tried it today and it's very pleasant. The flavour of fresh figs is still there and the figs are juicy and not too sweet. We had them with cheese and bread for lunch with friends, so a reasonably thorough taste test has occurred. None of us could taste the orange blossom water so it might as well be left out. It's very easy to make and is useful because it uses underripe figs which are always plentiful around now'. Here's the recipe, as well as the pictures to illustrate her tale:

 
 
 
 

The olive enigma

Now, the  world of olive preservation is very murky if you ask me, a bit like Dorothy and Peter's olives preserved in ash:

 

Do you score them, bash them with a jar or refuse to punish them at all? How much salt do you add to the water to leach their bitter taste? Do you add water at all, or simple douse them in a stack of dry salt? When you finally put them in a jar, can you eat them straight away, or do you wait a few months? Myriad recipes abound on the internet, my mother's method is suspiciously vague, and many of my friends are still waiting to see if theirs are going to work (see olives in ash above).

By the time the next blog post comes around, I will have asked around some more in a bid to provide a few tried and true methods so that those of you with a tree brimming full might find some comfort. If you or someone you know has a recipe and story to send in, please do!

Thanks be to the pumpkin

As I was making preparations for a shared family feast tomorrow, I was thinking about my lovely cousin Tina. A few weeks ago, she gave me a pumpkim that she grew in her garden. That very same pumpkin is going to feature in our 'mother's day' lunch tomorrow, cooked  with the aromatic garlic cloves from my father-in-law's garden. I feel really thankful to be the recipient of this gorgeous produce. Which got me thinking...I am also thankful...

• For the lamb that we will be eating tomorrow, and that, against its wishes no doubt, gave its life to grace our table.
• For the eccentric butcher at Preston makret who sold us this leg of lamb. He had the biggest smile under his moustache and the cheekiest eyes as he peddled his wares. Why it is that all butchers are jolly? I dare you to challenge that.
• To my dear long-time friend Lina who loves Preston market (and good food) just as much as I do and who thought to buy me a bunch of flowers today.
• To our beautiful mothers who will no doubt double the amount of food on our table tomorrow by making their own generous contributions.
• To my kids who sat me down and made me a cup of tea the other day even though it wasn't mother's day.

There's lots to be grateful about.  If you are a mother, aunty, godmother, or simply a gorgeous woman, I hope your day is fulsome and fabulous.

Taste of Freedom

If you like the idea of sharing a special meal with family or friends, why not host it in support of a good cause? Amnesty International is asking people to help them celebrate their 50th anniversary with a candlit dinner at home. Alternatively, grab your friends and go along to one of the participating restaurants. You can find out all about it here.

Happy dinning.

Easter eggs take II

Over a week since Easter and still counting...

It's been a week since Easter and our pantry is still full of Easter eggs, bunnies and bilbies. Thanks are due to our many generous friends, and the prolific Easter bunny, who padded around in his slippers very early on Easter Sunday.

You can play with them...
 

...eat them, eat them some more, and then what?

We have taken some to work, shared them with neighbours at a picnic in the park, put the odd one in the lunch box, and still there are more, like a never-ending supply of rabbits being pulled out of a hat.

A friend suggested melting them down and hosting a chocolate fondue party. If you like that idea, here's a decadent recipe. Any more suggestions out there for how to share chocolate?

Dying eggs, Latvian style

Thanks are due Pauls who took the trouble to write in about dying eggs based on a traditional Latvian method using onion skins, creating a lovely rippled effect. He also took photos. Check them out in his comments below the Easter blog. 

Messy, messy...

Also, thanks to Lucy who wrote that she had great success dying eggs with her toddler, but managed to paint the kitchen benches red as well. I suggested a paste of vinegar and baking powder - feeling like Mrs Beeton all the while.  Look forward to hearing if it actually worked Lucy. 

Champagne, cucumber sandwiches and connection

There was champagne and cucumber sandwiches. Pink pavlovas and dainty creme cakes. Cubed cheese and green pickled onions spiked artfully onto an orange. Punch with a generous splash or three of vodka. A tribe of kids in all their finery. Oh, and their mothers, standing around in their too-tight wedding gowns.

We were at a friend's house, celebrating the royal wedding. And somehow it all made sense us being there, even if we didn't give a rats arse about royalty in our day-to-day lives. I suspect it's the appeal of marking something momentous with a ritual of our own (think election day get-togethers, footy finals barbecues, Grammy awards booze-ups). That way, in 30 years time when little William Junior weds, we will remember where we were on the day his parents got married. With any luck, we will also remember what we ate, and who we ate it with.

 

As we watched and commented on all the spectacle and pomp, I couldn't help wondering how many more of us commoners were congregated in lounge rooms across the world, feasting and talking whilst we waited for ''the kiss''?

It appears that many, common and not so common, were also united by the idea of a right royal feast on the day. Here's an eclectic snapshot from around the world...

• Hardened Scottish inmates were treated to delights such as the ‘Kiss me Kate Goodie Bag’
• From drinking Mimosas in South Texas, to eating strawberry cakes in Amsterdam, 172 people joined the BBC's Royal wedding feast on Facebook to report on their own events around the world.
• In the town where William did most of his growing up, more than 500 people sat down to a royal feast at the Chipping of Tetbury.
• Post-kiss, the royal couple and their 650 guests enjoyed Scottish Highland beef and a smattering of canapes (about 10,000 of them).

And just in case any of you were wondering what was on the menu of other past notable wedding feasts (A swan, stuffed with a lark, stuffed with a sparrow, featured in a three-day feast hosted by Henry VIII), you can read about it here.

The royals can have their fine feasts, and we ours. I know which one I prefer. More punch anyone?

If you have a royal feast story to share, send it in.