A sense of place...
I was thinking to lead with another image altogether today…only to realise it so closely resembled the one I led with last week! But that very brief moment of dither-driven decision-making sparked a recognition, of how domestic life can revolve around a very specific place (and in turn, place, light and view infiltrate mood). It’s nothing new…afterall my entire career has been informed by that understanding and recognition. Goodness…I wasn’t going to begin here either! Commenting though, on such a sense of place in today’s post, was kind of pre-empted by other peeps being in my own personal domestic space earlier this week!
For when I’m not tap-tapping here at the keyboard, or out full-throttle gardening; my happy place, the very spot I seem rooted to for so many hours of the week, is the short run of kitchen bench that holds the sink, that faces the window, whose mullioned glass panes lead to the view that carries my eyes beyond…thus reflecting that sense of sheer energy I derive from the view, back through to my very soul. At this time of year, that view begins with the the bright yellow lemons in near vision, dangling from the two trees up close to the verandah; their solid form backed by the dainty, golden-speckled leaves of the Chinese Elm that’s always late to turn, and in each gentle breeze that teases its skirts, a few of those leaves are sent a-fluttering to the ground. The Chinese Elm is encased within the neatly trimmed hedge of Oleander, which in turn is framed by the taller hedge of Murraya. Although I know full well what the Borders behind the Murraya hedge contain and exactly how they unfold (right down to the weeds I need to pull!), the sense of secrecy as to what lies behind, is somehow palpable from my place behind the window…and this creates a sense of some excitement to me. Next, the Prunus in the Borders is beginning to turn at last (Prunus x yedoensis ‘Akebono’) and whose colourful display seems moreso because of the hint of silver Olive tree foliage behind…and then…the leathery dark leaves of the now enormous Port Jackson Fig. All of it held by Big Hill. All this…as I glance left, through the kitchen window.
But glance right instead, beyond the lemons and continuing hedge of Oleander broken only by an arbour made of bush poles, the Chinese Elm is at play now with the colourful leaves of the Chinese Pistachio (funny how it’s all the China-related trees that seem to colour late!); the loose hedge below of Cotoneaster and, thanks to so many trees now being quite bare, the shimmering, sparkling waters of the dam…their reflection almost bouncing (as bird or breeze cause the surface to ripple) right back through the window panes, to my snug spot…and dazzling the viewer, where so much of my life seems to take place.
This is the image I had thought to lead with! Although different subject matter, it’s the exact same spot as last week’s lead, so you might think me stuck in a rut if I lead with this aspect each and every week, despite the persuasive view! Which is perhaps the case!! But it’s honest, for it is in this particular spot that every laden basket from the garden arrives. It is where I empty that basket each afternoon to take the quick pic for an insta story. It’s where I sort what we’re having for dinner..the herbs and petals from the produce that needs a scrub or soak. And in its own way, whether plopped or being prepared, that produce is a continuation of the view beyond the window. It’s where I’m inclined to chop veg and do the vast majority of food prep. And also where I choose to eat a quick breakfast and lunch…prepared in the very same place. My happy place. My corner.
At this time of year, the sun streams in through the windows from late morning, then all day long, making the atmosphere in the kitchen a thing of warmth and vibrancy on a chill winter’s day. The best piece of advice ever, that Larry and I took on board when we were in the process of building, was to forego the verandah roofing panels on this north-facing section, to allow for exactly this scenario; and I’ll be forever grateful to our very dear, local-born friend for suggesting it. Instead that section is smothered in leaves pergola-style during the hot months, creating much needed shade from this otherwise sun-exposed aspect. Over the years, those leaves have been either wisteria (which sadly died) or grape (the last destroyed by possums!). A new wisteria should make it to the entire length of the verandah again this coming season, if the possums will just leave it alone.
The prompt though, for all this talk of personal place and this very particular spot, is quite simply that…earlier this week it was filled with others! Other produce, props and recipes made…and a multitude of other humans! Someone else standing in my spot, enraptured with my view…and none of it something I’ve ever agreed to before! Sure…the kitchen has been photographed - and with me in it - for the book, for magazines; but for the most part, I like to keep the space private. Not from people, but from cameras (and certainly from tv ones!). I don’t mind the garden popping up in the odd thing whose narrative is unrelated to here; or even the Dairy (well!). Afterall…they are the backbone of every workshop and event and have been photographed to near breaking-point over the years! The house though, is different (though it’s long been a point of reference for my clients and design work, an aspect that by its very nature, is private). And yet in this instance my arm was twisted, as people and values aligned in happy collaboration. And truly? What a bit of fun was had over two days at the beginning of the week! I can’t reveal more, but should the pilot come to pass (and for the team involved, I do so hope it does) I’ll spill the beans!
One thing I will say is that…I was so relieved to not be the one being filmed! I’ve really always been a ‘behind-the-scenes’ kinda gal. In being so, I’ve perhaps allowed opportunities to slip by…but I’ve never felt comfortable being the centre of attention.
To facilitate and enable creation to occur though…is where I do find joy.
The first mandarins are in! Though punctuated with pips, their juice-filled segments are so delicious, they’re worth the mild irritation of needing to spit the things out! It certainly ensures one can daintily eat just one segment at a time! These fruit are from a tree that preceded our tenure, so it’s an old-fashioned variety, and very early on we managed to move it successfully to a more suitable position. No doubt there are modern cultivars sans seeds, but this is the one we have, so the seeds simply go with the eating. I thought to try one a few days ago to see how their ripening was coming along before including them in a winter salad for a treat yesterday…and was delighted to find them sweet as sweet can be!
Which brings me to…the compilation of that winter salad I kept promising you last year! It was in the Delicious article, so I couldn’t print it ‘til the issue was superseded…then the season moved on and it was too late. I’ve just done a check of the last recipe index, to find I promised I’d share it when the next the time rolled around. Which it has done now. Do you think it tragic I’m simply always on repeat? I don’t…because it’s generally months and months since we last enjoyed whatever it is I’m currently enamoured with. So although I may be on annual, seasonal repeat…it’s a long time between savouring these morsels, and I reckon that’s how it ought to be.
Anyway…this is one of my seasonal favourites and I hope you’ll enjoy it too. Every ingredient is in season, so if you’re not growing your own and you happen to be off to a farmer’s market (and you’re southern hemisphere based!), you can be sure the ingredients on your list should be fresh as can be!
WINTER SALAD of FENNEL, RADICCHIO & MANDARIN (or Clementine or Orange segment)
Ingredients (generous for 4)
one medium/large bulb of fennel
radicchio leaves (I’m inclined to pick from the outside of several plants, ensuring a variety of speckles, streaks and solid colour as well as alternating textures). Otherwise, one whole radicchio but you may not need the whole head
2 - 3 mandarins (or Clementines or one orange)
calendula petals to scatter (or borage, or fennel frond or parsley or whatever you fancy!)
Vinaigrette
juice of one mandarin (or whichever orange citrus you’re using)
a little Dijon mustard (maybe about 1/3 teaspoon)
pinch sea salt and a few twists of black pepper
extra virgin olive oil
a splash of white wine vinegar if the end result needs a little sharpening
Method
wash and soak radicchio leaves, then spin and set out to dry
peel and segment the citrus and remove any clinging trails of pith
cut the fronds from the fennel and remove the first outer layer (usually soiled in some manner) and cut the roots from the base. Halve, then flat side down on the board, slice finely, using a large knife with a good blade
combine the vinaigrette ingredients (you all know now that I go by eye so am so bad at suggesting quantities but I know you also know how to make vinaigrette!). The key here is to use the juice of the same fruit you’re using in the salad. I’ve often done it without the mustard or white wine vinegar but yesterday’s seemed to need a little something…
combine all the ingredients in a large bowl and give a very good toss to coat, then set out on a large serving plate
I could think of nothing nicer than to spend a chill winter’s morning in my snug spot, measuring, mixing and baking…in preparation for a little lunch. Of course it does also involve picking - which means rugging up to face the elements too! Lunches like this don’t happen often - usually if I’m going to this extra effort (and loving every second!) it will be for an event, so on a larger scale. When for us alone, lunch will be altogether more rudimentary. But…thinking on what we might eat, no matter how informal/simple/relaxed; would have to be one of my very favourite things (the anticipation of spending time in the company of those coming to visit aside!). For the most part though, for maximum enjoyment on my part, I have to grow it first. Take that part away and these days for me, it would be like a pin-prick to a balloon…I just can’t derive the same pleasure from preparing (or eating) bought produce. The fun of it, is in the bringing together of all the elements currently displaying their optimum vitality in the garden. If they grow together, are plump and ripe and ready at the same time, then I reckon those specimens must be right for eating together. But of course that does necessitate good garden planning in the first place. So having a good handle on what you like to eat as the seasons unfurl, is a vital component of kitchen gardening practice.
I know I’ve said it before, but the practice of productive gardening requires the playing of different roles: that of eater, cook and gardener…though in reverse order. If I wasn’t on top of my gardening…my soil prep, crop rotation, planting, care and nurture…I wouldn’t be able to provide the cook (me) with the opportunity to feed the eater (me plus!). And as I like eating (very much!), as well as every element of preparation…from picking and washing to chopping and slicing and combining…it’s imperative my gardening skills are up to the task!
Of course I can’t grow every element of a menu…and the right supporting cast is hugely significant. My kind of winter lunch goes like this (all of it on the table at once…
A small bowl of pumpkin, apple & ginger soup, topped with slices of caramelised apple scattered with parsley; a slice of pumpernickel soda bread slathered with a slice of brie; a few sun-dried olives (lucky some of Anna’s were left over from the Huddle event!), a morsel or two in the fingers too, of sticky-baked Jerusalem artichoke…and a helping of aforesaid winter salad. A glass of white wine doesn’t go astray. A happy fire glowing in the background, everyone pink-cheeked and warm as toast.
After? A walk…
Then a cuppa and a slice of sticky ginger syrup cake (whoops…forgot to snap that - it was on insta stories so probably gone now)! The links above (highlighted in green) are all to the first Recipe Index, where you’ll find each of those recipes listed and be able to click through from there to find the relevant post containing the recipe.
One winter’s day…
The pumpkin for the soup? First one of the season! Which reminds me…I’d better go and put them under cover - they’ve been sitting on the wall for a fortnight and should we get the shower they mentioned we might tomorrow, I don’t want them to get wet!
I’m sure there was something important to mention, but I can’t think what it was, so it will keep. Oh but do, if you have the chance, go and see the film Wilding. I made a return trip to Sydney for the sole purpose; and…for all the great perseverance and astonishing achievement, the holding of one’s nerve in the face of derision and uncertainty by custodians Isabella Tree and Charlie Burrell…who knew pigs might… swim?????!!!!
On a day when it seems to me that the world has lost its sense of humanity and our very existence seems precarious, perilous even…as if we mere mortals are nought but pawns in a game being played by rude, greedy, sabre-rattling, warmongering monsters; I send you love and kindness and recipes to keep you and the ones you love warm and nourished. If only I could extend these simple things to those who are truly, agonisingly, suffering. There but for the grace of God…
Warmest wishes,
Mickey x
Productive garden notes:
Eating from the garden:
Onions, garlic (stores of both diminishing fast now and those left are sprouting!); aubergines, tomatoes, coloured chard and spinach; lettuce, rocket, red elk mustard, newly germinated cima di rapa - eating the thinnings! Kohl rabi, parsnip, Jerusalem artichoke, fennel, celery, celeriac. Lemons, oranges (Navel), mandarins (new). Rhubarb. Lovage, mint, chives, rosemary, thyme. Calendula, nasturtium and borage petals, fennel fronds. Pomegranate (I do wish there were more but the one I opened was sensational!)
Going / gone: basil, onions, garlic, aubergine, tomatoes (though I did pick the most enormous haul of tomatoes yesterday!), lovage
Seed saving: tomato
Sowing: Australian yellow leaf lettuce, cima di rapa, carrot, beetroot, parsnip, coriander, parsley (the next three days are root days according to the Almanac, so make the most of them!)
Planting: brassicas (kale, cavolo nero, cabbage, broccoli, kohl rabi, cauliflower), lettuce, radicchio, fennel (bulbing), bok choy and leeks…and onions. I’d suggest it’s very late for these now (except the onions) but I might try one last flurry: so said I last week but given the tv thing, I ran out of time, so I’ll plant those seedlings this weekend!
Ornamental garden notes:
Picking for the house: a rose here and there…a fennel or tansy stem and furry stems of lavender dentata (French lavender)
Perfumes and aromas: Daphne!!!! Well…there’s still just that one open flower…and…the second jonquil! (We don’t do bulbs well…hence I can count their stems!)
Pruning and other: lots of tidying for me - especially in the kitchen garden where I took down some nets, pulled out the last aubergines, the last basil and did a great deal of tweaking and primping and preening (which is just as well as there was not just a camera man but a drone…and had I known I’d have done more!). Thalia’s been shovelling trailer-loads of compost onto the poor bare Cliveas, but they’re shooting back!
That photograph with the grass and the light is a poem…and I have been lusting after just such a boat for years. Sigh. I make do with a tiny tinny (and essential baling bucket). When there’s water in the dam, that is.