S U M M E R T I M E...
And the weather is hot, hot, hot!
My goodness two weeks is too long between posts and I hardly know where to begin (except for those two completely random *songs popping into my head from who knows where!). I can’t yet say ‘the living is e - a - s - y…….’ though I’m beginning to sense it coming and how I’m looking forward to it!
I’m sorry to have missed last week’s post as the week was eventful (aside from the event!) with timely information I so wanted to share, especially on the seasonal produce front. So let’s begin there, with a couple of recipes, because some of you will be lagging behind me in your gardens and you might find these useful in the days ahead. Both are Elder (Elderflower, Elderberry) Sambucus canadensis focussed. I’d quite like to have Sambucus nigra, too, but I can’t think where on earth to put one!
I left you at the end of the last post with a teaser (an image of rhubarb stems in front of an open kitchen window) suggesting I’d share their purpose this time. You might think it a quite peculiar recipe, but for those who grow…it is a devilishly good one! You’ll see why I couldn’t include the entire recipe last time as I’d picked the stems to wash just that morning, before they cooked where they stood!
Rhubarb & Elderflower Jam
Ingredients
6 large or 12 smaller heads elderflower
1kg trimmed & washed rhubarb stalks, cut into short lengths
1.5kg white sugar
juice of 1 lemon
Method
Tie the elderflowers up in muslin (I’m sure to always have a roll on hand to cut a length) and place on the bottom of a large glass or ceramic bowl
Tip the rhubarb on top and all around
Sprinkle with sugar and shake the bowl to settle it all in
Cover with a cloth and set aside for 12 hours (the process relies on the sugar drawing out the flavour from the rhubarb and elderflowers, giving the jam an intense flavour)
After 12 hours (roughly…I usually let it stand overnight or all day…extra time won’t hurt) give it a quick stir…you should find the juices releasing now. Cover again and rest for another 12 hours
After the second rest, the rhubarb should be swimming in its juice
Tip into a large saucepan, discard the elderflowers, add the lemon juice and give a thoroughly good stir to make sure all the sugar has dissolved
Simmer gently 45 - 60 minutes…until setting point is reached (put a teaspoon of jam onto a chilled plate and see if it wrinkles after 20 seconds or so when you push with your finger). The colour of the jam will be very dark…
Pour into sterilised jars
I discovered the recipe for this rather rich jam years ago now and simply hate to miss making my annual batch. You know by now that I only indulge in jam once a week - at Sunday breakfast, Christmas and Easter! So really one batch is more than enough (including a gift here and there) and I rarely have time to make a second. Except for the first year when I found the recipe and in a mad panic, experimental though it was, I made as many batches as I could muster!
Sibella Court had invited me to participate in her ‘sidewalk flea market’ one Saturday morning (in fact it would be exactly this weekend that’s upon us, so I’d have been jarring up like a mad woman right now! Back then, I recall it coincided with Bonnie’s end of school term festivities and so the entire situation was hectic, to say the least!). Given Sibella’s ‘gypsy-like’ tendencies (when she isn’t in pirate mode that is) I really wanted my little stall to complement her aspiration. The flea market was to be on the shaded pavement outside her then eponymous corner Paddington shop, The Society Inc.
As Elders carry a weight of folkloric history, and the flavours of this jam infuse as if by osmosis, I thought it sounded suitably gypsy-esque and the timing was perfect: a bounty of rhubarb was ripe for the picking and huge heads of elderflowers were dangling right over its patch (just as they were a fortnight ago).
Aside from making to sell all those jars back then, the few jars yielded really are pretty much for home reserve. Except last year, when I went through every jar in the cellar when I had a madcap idea to invite Barbara Sweeney to run a Scone Workshop! I’ve always thought this jam would be divine with scones and cream for that classic combination and…so it proved to be! We might need to repeat that fun day - in the end we ran four sessions - Barbara was near beside herself by the end of it and we had a constant stream of participants learning, then eating the results from their little class after a garden wander. We went through a LOT of Rhubarb & Elderflower Jam! My only sadness is that I discovered this recipe a couple of years after my Dad died…how he loved scones, jam & cream! I only ever made them for him - and I reckon he’d have loved spooning great dollops of this deeply rich jam onto a warm scone with oodles of whipped cream on top to sink his teeth into - and I’d have happily joined him as I know my Mum would too!
As it really is Elderflower time, I’m also going to share the recipe for Elderflower Cordial, as I’m asked for it so often. I’ll be honest…I don’t drink it regularly - just like jam, it’s a treat. But on seriously hot days it really is just the thing…a little boost of energy that truly hits the spot. When you think it’s but a dash of cordial in a glass of water, I guess the sugar content isn’t that high…and at least I can judge the amount I’m putting into the glass. Given the current heat, I might just need one today!
Elderflower Cordial
Ingredients
24 large elderflower heads
3 lemons
900g white sugar
55g citric acid
Method
trim the flower heads from their stalks and put into a large ceramic bowl
add strips of lemon rind and the juice of all 3 lemons to the flowers
boil 1.5 litres (I usually just fill the kettle (capacity 1.8 litres)
Pour the boiling water over the flower heads and…enjoy the aroma that immediately infiltrates the atmosphere!
Use a wooden spoon to make sure flowers and lemon are submerged, then cover with a tea towel and leave to steep for 24 hours
Next day, strain the liquid into a large saucepan, discard the flowers and lemon rind
Stir in the sugar and citric acid and warm through just enough to dissolve both while you stir
Pour into sterilised bottles and store in a cool, dark place
To drink, add a good glug to a large glass of water
Whenever I make this, although the recipe’s in the The House and Garden at Glenmore, I always retrieve my messy file from the kitchen dresser, where a much splattered sheet of paper rests amongst those that make up my most used recipes. It’s a standard email I printed from Anna, a dear friend who chose to type the recipe she was so kindly sharing with me in blue text, so it’s instantly recognisable in the pile. It always makes me smile and think of her…she writes exactly as she speaks (“you want to pare in some of the lemon rind” I can hear her voice clearly ringing across the years…where she was when she sent me that recipe by means of following up our recent stay; to where she is now; and both the gardens she’s made (though I doubt she’ll be drinking elderflower cordial at this time of year in her part of the world!).
At the same time all this elderflower activity was occurring, the cactus / succulent thing on the table in the front courtyard flowered! Truly…it would take me forever to find its label and I mention it now only because I was so cock-a-hoop to actually capture a photo or two! It sends up one flower, once a year. Blink and you’ll miss it.
I love that it does this when the Crinum lilies (I mentioned a few weeks ago) flower right outside the east-facing bedroom window and verandah. It brings such a rush of joy to see that burst of white on repeat, across the gravel, one tiny flower holding centre stage for a day…well, more like a morning - a fleeting moment of surprise and delight. For something so tiny, it sure knows how to command attention.
So there’s that spectacle over for another year!
Rather longer lived will be the display of Shell Ginger flowers Alpinia zerumbet. They began their flowering passage a week ago, with the storms and glorious rain that brought a sense of the tropics to this part of the garden after those days of tremendous heat. All week, raceme after raceme of buds have opened on the tall stems that line the southern bedroom wall and just this morning, on drawing the curtains and opening the blind, I was greeted with one large dew drop clinging to the tip of one perfect, pendulous bud. Summertime…
The Agave spike is right up there now with the Sitting Room chimney! The flower stalks have spread their curvaceous arms and surely set their clusters of buds at the end of each stem. Whether looking up to a steely or bright blue sky, the effect is captivating and it won’t be long now before those buds begin to prise open…attracting every parrot in the district!
The first frangipanis also unfurled their petals to stormy skies…
In contrast with the rest of the garden, I love how evocative, romantic and very private this nook feels…resonating as it does with perfume, raindrops and frog calls in stormy weather; shade and shelter from searing heat - as the tin roof pops from time to time and large leaves gently flap in a stirring breeze in times of swelter.
Whilst we’re on exotics though…for it really is their turn to show off…the succulent side of the pool fence is performing on cue. This nameless night-flowering Cactus (given to me by Clemmie as a Christmas present in a small pot from a green grocer in Sydney some years back) is smothered in buds. Night flowering, annoyingly I’m inclined to miss it (I’m less likely these days to go for a midnight swim!). I believe it’s a Cereus, and is inclined to repeat flower, unlike some succulents and cactus that do their thing on just one night of the year and are perfumed, which this one isn’t. It sure doesn’t stop it from being spectacular though!
Just nearby this sprawling, yellow flowering Aloe has spread to such an extent it’s taking over the grass (I’m keen for it to do so though I’m not so sure Larry is!). I love its green-tipped bright yellow flowers, that are gradually being joined by yellow-centred frangipanis against the wall of the old stables within the pool enclosure behind.
I haven’t yet quite got into the swing of the pool situation this season! I’ve taken just one plunge and it was simply divine, but as the year begins to slow, I’m hopeful I might get into a lap routine…we shall see!
The Borders have filled out now…from the dense to the delicate, the fluffy, furry and strappy…
To the toothed and thistled with burgeoning grassy waves…the Borders are flecked with subtle colour, holding visual treasures and harbouring waves of olfactory delight. As I packed away Friday’s event on Saturday, the pitter patter of rain on the tin roof was accompanied by swirls of honeyed Buddleija mixing gently with the deepest orange perfume of Murraya flowers - an intoxicating combination as I folded and stacked lengths of hessian with their own unmistakable candour of string…gradually putting everything back in its place to the tune of a moody day.
I’ve long exceeded my ‘limit’ for this post to display in email format, so I do hope you’ll continue reading in the app! Because I would just like to touch on last Friday’s event which had been so long in the planning.
It’s impossible to choose my favourite of Til’s paintings to show you (and quite hard to do them justice as we had to have the lights on, the weather was so divinely redolent of grey days at sea!). During their year long voyage on El Oro, a sleek and beautiful timber ketch on which they sailed the East Coast of America, the Caribbean, across the Atlantic and through the Mediterranean to Ithaca, Til became absorbed in the wide variety of vessels they encountered, from containers to tug boats, ferries to fishing boats, which set her on a whole new oeuvre…which she continues to explore.
When they arrived on Thursday afternoon, Til and husband Richard set about hanging a lovely collection of Til’s work. Using rope (in a way we’ve done before with Til’s work here) they managed to hang quite a swag of colourful paintings from the Dairy cross poles and off the nails I use to hang canvas blinds when we need to darken the room for a presentation…as we did on Friday.
The whole became a mini gallery, set behind the space where everyone took their seats, absorbed in the tales of the pair’s year long adventure, as slide after enormous slide on the big wall had us sailing along as if on board…calling into ports and tracking the adventure by map.
I mustered together as much blue table linen as I could find in my cupboard, so from inside to out and outside to in…in every direction, we felt all at sea!
At the end of the day, not many of Til’s paintings were left and I’ve no doubt many well thumbed copies of Richard’s book A Year on El Oro will be found lurking with the sun cream during the coming summer holidays! You can see more about Matilda Dumas and her work on her insta page here (she hasn’t yet updated her website to include her nautical tangent!) and find how to order a copy of A Year on El Oro here!
Because this page might go into meltdown, I’ll save the recipes we enjoyed ‘til next time! Some, you already have - there was pumpernickel soda bread (of course!), fennel frond pistou and a new experiment I tried - using the Labne recipe from Karima and Sivine’s Sofra, but infusing it (or trying to!) with the essence of fig leaf! (Fig & fennel with olive branches down the table for the Mediterranean) and a shot of chilled beetroot soup just because…it’s in season and seemed just right! Poppy seed seared tuna (that was a wild spur of the moment idea!) with pickled red cabbage and stewed borlotti beans - the last two redolent of Til’s onboard catering which had me picking Til’s brains and making it up as I went (I no longer think I could prepare anything without having a garden on hand and so would be useless these days at cooking on board a boat!). We finished with Rum & Raisin ice cream - a nod to their sailing the Caribbean and I promise to share that recipe next week so you have it well in advance of Christmas, which as a rule, is usually the only time I make that one!
There’s more, but it will keep. In all there’s been a lot of cooking, prep and mountains of catch up, but how it’s felt like summertime has arrived. With hot pans of chicken broth simmering on the stove, slipping skins from just-cooked beetroot, raisins soaking in a bowl of rum on the bench, loads of sun-baked washing, hydrangeas, frangipanis, gardenias. Take away the smoky elderflower that accompanied all of the above, and these are the components of a Sydney childhood - mine anyway. Is there anything like the taste of chilled beetroot on a stinking hot day? My childhood memories may pair beetroot with summer sand but I’m guessing none of this will resonate with those residing in the climes of the northern hemisphere! Down here, just add Christmas and we’re off to a flying start to where the living is e - a - s - y !
‘Til next time with warmest wishes
Mickey x
*Summertime, Ella Fitgerald (with Louis Armstrong) from the album Porgy & Bess and Hot, hot, hot, Arrow
Productive garden notes:
Eating from the garden:
Lemons (stored now rather than on the tree!), rhubarb (a new flush since the stormy weather), parsnip, asparagus. Coloured chard, warrigal greens, lettuce, beetroot leaves (new flush from recent sowing but finished our globes) rocket (new flush). Fennel fronds, mint, rosemary, thyme, chives, lovage. Fresh fennel seed and fennel pollen. Tiny cucumber flowers - I’m inclined to pick them off ‘til the vine grows as I want to strengthen the vine and those flowers with tiny fruit attached are delicious.
And…the dried Speckled Cranberry Borlotti Beans! I realise I’ve failed to mention all the way through since winter, that the oven dried San Marzano tomatoes feature a couple of times a week on our plates here!
Going / gone: lemons (plenty still in store though), mulberry, cape gooseberry, leeks, calendula, borage, nasturtium petals, chive flowers. Beetroot (finished ours!). Warrigal greens need a good cut back - their leaves have become smaller.
Seed saving: radish, nigella (love in the mist), coriander
Sowing: beetroot, parsnip, carrot, beans, corn, zucchini, cucumber, watermelon, rockmelon, rocket, parsley, basil, sunflower and zinnia.
Planting: lettuce, tomatoes, aubergines, capsicums, cucumbers and zucchini seedlings
Ornamental garden notes:
Picking for the house: Magnolia (even if they are few & far between!), a handful of gardenias, random frangipanis, roses. I could pick hydrangeas…but how loathe I am to do so ‘til Christmas!
Perfumes and aromas: Burmese honeysuckle (going), Crinum lily, Buddleja and Chinese star jasmine, Murraya and still the lingering aroma of dry cistus leaves, summer wisteria - while it doesn’t flood the atmosphere because the flowers are fewer, plunge in your nose and the fragrance is divine. Salvia turkestanica - I adore the aroma - I think most gardeners do, although it’s a highly divisive one but much sought in the perfume industry. I ran an experimental distillation earlier this week out of pure curiosity for a distilling friend…I’ll let it settle and see what she thinks!
Pruning and other: Thalia spent most of last week clearing the lawn ‘gutters’ of detritus they’d collected and weeds - it’s a regular job and last week was particularly bad due to the spotted gum shedding its bark everywhere! This week she’s cut back the Rose Geranium in the field - I just couldn’t get to it and today has had a serious go at the jasmine on the pantry. We didn’t do it last year and so this year we need to be ruthless. As Larry has young Cruise (our plumber’s son) coming to help him clear all the roof gutters in the morning, it was a good move to eliminate much of the jasmine which was filling the pantry gutter. I’ve done a lot of work in the kitchen garden and now the big events are over for the year, should be able to keep on top of its needs (though ornamentals are beckoning!).
When you're back, come and have a glass of elderflower cordial Elizabeth :))) X
I do! I too was told about the resident, as well as that it's bad luck to only have one specimen...you've never seen anyone grab a pair of secateurs so fast! I have a pair within cooee of each other and only hope those living there get along! Love your Cornish accent! X