We're on the cusp, the brink of spring...
and it's all systems go!
Truly…it doesn’t matter how many years, how many springs come and go…it’s this moment I so treasure as winter comes to an end, the one I mourn as soon as it’s spent: when the almond fully pops its froth of pink blossom, filling my eyes and heart and soul with pure delight! Our harbinger of spring, my heart literally skips a beat when I notice the first single blossom open (and hate if I find two…meaning I missed the first!). I showed you that moment last week and ever since, each day has been filled with anticipation ‘til the tree is awash as it is now.
Lopsided, fragile these days, I just couldn’t bare to lose it. It was one of the very first trees we planted when I thought to plant an ‘orchard’ adjacent to the old Hayshed. Those were tentative garden making days, with the task only just begun of linking a collection of disparate buildings to each other. It seemed to me, that the rusticity of the Hayshed called for simplicity; and the idea of an orchard romantic. Imagine, I thought, sitting in the Hayshed and looking into fruit trees in blossom, in fruit…enjoying picnics in their midst. (Just as well one’s head is full of visions at the beginning…rather than pesky problems!).
As the years have gone by, we’ve done all those things. As the trees grew, so the girls had branches to climb and before that; when both trees and girls were tiny, we’d play at chasing each other round and around them after school. I was never able to plant the trees exactly as I’d hoped - I plotted them as a balanced grid (of almonds, apples and figs) but discovered sandstone ‘floaters’ right where I hoped to plant, so they’re all offset from where they were intended! And not all were happy…there were originally three almonds but this is the only survivor, its open branches all gloriously covered in lichen.
It wasn’t meant to flower pink either! In those first days we used to order trees through Don at the old Camden Garden Centre and well…what you got was a bit pot luck! We chose almonds to remind us of the confetti vision of almonds in blossom across Mallorca where we’d visit Larry’s pa in our early days together and those blossoms were white! So we were a bit surprised when the first year, they all flowered pink! But I’m so glad they did - I wouldn’t change this one for anything and funnily enough, Larry ordered a replacement for one of the originals a few years ago and guess what colour it blossoms? Not nearly as effectively spring-like as our good ol’ pink one!
A subtle yellow for you this week as the whorls of golden, hooded flowers of Phlomis russeliana begin to open with the warmth. Aren’t they exquisite? It’s now they balance the huge clouds of Roldana behind…pops of yellow far enough apart to brighten and draw the eye, without overwhelming.
Another moment that fills my heart is when I discover the first plump, russet-red bud of Melianthus major buried deep within the folds of new, heavily serrated, lime green leaves. This is all about the burgeoning, the coming, the sheer anticipation as each day lengthens just marginally in daylight and an altogether lighter atmosphere infiltrates our senses. If the Roldana can just hold on for another couple of weeks…
This combination of golden yellow, mixed with spots of deepest red will make for just a vey brief moment, when the whole comes together as planned! Just now, I can see the explosion of Roldana blooms from every set of glass-topped French doors along the Gallery; and through the flyscreen of the courtyard door that’s open during the day now, encouraging tentatively warm air to flow inside. I can see this pop of colour from the kitchen door too, so it’s a highlight of golden glory viewed from inside to out at every glimpse through a window. Turn half left and the Phlomis comes into view, look right, and my eye is filled with a daily explosion of waxy yellow Solandra trumpets. Ahead, the Lisbon lemon is covered with fruit and beyond it, the creamy-yellow Cliveas are about to explode into a profusion of flower, so each step through the inside of the house, bounces with the colour of spring sunshine.
And then the golden hues were amplified by a surprise gift at the weekend! Are we ready for a tangent? One year a long time ago, I had a stand at the local Camden Show. As is the way with a stand…or market stall, it’s often the case that the stall holder is all by themselves…all day. On this occasion it was the case. As was the typical unfolding of such a day…up before dawn, a multitude of tasks in preparation to be ready for the off, then hours of frenzy that can pass in what seems like a minute…with crowds of people and conversations and laughter.
And then…there’s a lull. So by 4’ish or so in the afternoon, one can be feeling a bit depleted. That’s when you realise your feet hurt and you’re hungry! I picked up my phone to scroll through instagram - I may even have sat down! And what did I see? Angela Palermo had posted an image of the most luscious Citron Tart! Oh I remember thinking…if only she could magic a slice of that to me right now and someone could get me a cup of tea too - I sent her a message to tell her so! Knowing Ange, had she been closer, she’d have been there with both in an instant! At that time, we’d briefly met, but our correspondence with each other was yet to proliferate. I explained that Citron Tart had, for many years, been my birthday treat (La Bretagne Patisserie in Rose Bay makes a very good one - or used to - and someone in the family would be tasked with the job of going to Sydney to get hold of one).
It was on the back of that spontaneous conversation, that began at the Camden Show, that several glorious Italian Cooking Workshops at Glenmore with Ange came to be, and each time Citron Tart was on the agenda! Those workshops always occurred in the spring to coincide with my lemons being in full flush, and each time during the previous week, I’d deliver a basket of lemons to Ange so she could make the one everyone indulges in on arrival for morning tea the day before, with my lemons! Then during the workshop, we’d pick lemons together to make the one during the class.
A couple of years ago, there was a very special celebration. Low key, I enjoyed what I’ve come to refer to as a ‘stealth’ birthday!
I asked Ange to please make a couple of Citron Tarts as a final flourish to the menu. I took her the lemons. The tarts were glorious! And I sprinkled them with little violas to make them extra special. That’s the last time I’ve eaten one!
Then last weekend, Ange attended our Thankful for Soil event and I’m so glad she did…it was such a joy to see her absorbing, rather than teaching and sharing which is her usual mode. She is a wonderful cook, a heartfelt teacher, and a joy to be around. When she arrived on Sunday, she handed me a box. Although a month has passed, she hadn’t forgotten my birthday. And lucky me…I’ve had Citron Tart to go with my cuppa every day this week (as has Larry of course!).
Generous as ever, Ange has shared the recipe for her tart for me to pass on here. As lemons are well and truly in season…now is the time!
Angela Palermo’s Lemon Curd Tart / Crostata al Limone
Ingredients for Pasta Frolla (Italian Sweet Short Pastry)
100g butter, unsalted, cold, diced
60g pure icing sugar, sieved (if too lumpy)
220g “00” flour or plain flour (preferably organic unbleached)
1 egg yolk
1 egg whole
1 vanilla bean seed (or 1tsp vanilla bean paste)
pinch sea salt
Ingredients for Lemon Curd
10g or zest 1 - 2 lemons, finely grated
8 large or 148g egg yolks
225g caster sugar
190ml lemon juice, freshly squeezed and strained
114g butter, unsalted, cut into cubes and softened
pinch sea salt
Method for Pastry
1. Place flour, butter, pure icing sugar, and a pinch of salt in a large bowl and using your fingers crumb butter through dry ingredients until you form fine breadcrumbs; try to work quickly to ensure butter does not melt. Note: you can also use a food processor for this step.
2. In another small bowl, combine egg yolk, whole egg, & vanilla bean seeds or paste and lightly whisk with a folk. Add this egg mixture into bowl and bring together with your hand or fork. Turn mixture out onto a clean surface and form into a round disc shape (or whatever shape you will need to roll pastry for tin – I like to use a 22-24cm round flan tin with removable base). Wrap in bees wax or environmentally friendly clingwrap and refrigerate to rest 30 minutes or if you have time – 2hrs.
3. Preheat oven to 180c. Roll out dough on a lightly floured surface until 3-4mm thick and in the shape of your tart tin. TIP: to carefully line a tin with pastry – use rolling pin to roll up the pastry and unravel over tin once in place. Using a fork, lightly prick the base. Cover with foil or baking paper and fill with baking beads or rice. Allow to rest at least 30mins in the fridge (longer if you have time).
4. Place in the oven to blind bake for 20 minutes. Remove paper/foil and weights, reduce oven temperature to 170°C and return pastry to oven for a further 8-10mins or until pastry is cooked through and golden in colour. Set aside and allow to cool completely.
Method for Lemon Curd
1. Have ready nearby a strainer suspended over a medium bowl that contains half of the lemon zest.
2. In another medium bowl, whisk (with a hand-held whisk) egg yolks and sugar until thick and lighter in colour – about 3 minutes.
3. In a heavy-based non-reactive saucepan (medium size) add the remaining lemon zest, lemon juice, butter and salt. Now add to this the egg yolk mixture and stir together. Cook over low heat, stirring gently & constantly with a wooden spoon or spatula (be sure to scrape the sides of the pan), until the mixture is thickened and resembles hollandaise sauce; it should thickly coat a wooden spoon.
(NOTES: The mixture will change from translucent to opaque and begin to take on a yellow colour. It must not be allowed to boil, or it will curdle. Whenever steam appears, remove the pan briefly from the heat, stirring constantly to keep the mixture from boiling. When the mixture has thickened - this will happen between the heat range of 61°C to 84°C on an accurate thermometer).
4. Immediately pour the curd into the bowl with strainer. Press with the back of a spoon until only the coarse residue remains. Discard the residue. Now gently stir the lemon curd to mix through the lemon zest.
5. Pour this curd into the cooled pastry case and give it a little shake to evenly distribute. Allow to cool completely for the curd to set (in winter this will not take long, but in summer, this will take a few hours in a cool area of the house).
To serve: you can dust the edges of the tart with pure icing sugar for a lovely visual. Cut slices and serve as is or with a dollop of double cream to cut through the sharpness/tang of the lemon.
How I encourage you to follow Ange on instagram…she regularly and generously shares her recipes and also has a weekly newsletter that arrives like clockwork on Friday mornings - again, filled with tempting recipes and other news! I think it might be time for another workshop here (if I can persuade her!). The last one was booked out by one lovely big Italian family for their mama’s 60th birthday and it was such a happy day. They ate well…as Ange always says, mangie bene sempre (eat well always)! Everyone certainly does in her midst!
Thankful for Soil, on Sunday, was one of those days that by all accounts, had an impact on all who participated. I’ve been receiving messages all week from peeps saying they felt energised, have a new way of looking at both the environment and the food they eat; alongside a better knowledge of how farmers are trying to incorporate regenerative practices into the land they nurture, while striving to provide healthy produce to consumers. The first screening of the day was of Six Inches of Soil, a British film following three young farmers on their regenerative journey; interspersed with animated historical facts about the depletion of soil that soon followed colonial progression and its accompanying agricultural practice around the world. Suzannah Cowley’s film, Thankful for Soil, focussed on four Australian farmers (including Matthew Evans) and was succinct in its messaging: we have to tell the stories of soil - a living, breathing web of communication, that supports humanity and the environment.
Suzannah is taking the film around the regions, around the country and hopefully, beyond. Viewing it is something I encourage everyone to do. If you think your region may have the opportunity to screen both films, Suzannah would be happy to hear from you…you can find her at Nviro Media.
Along with the films, we had the dynamic soil guru Rhonda Daly, The Earth Agent here in conversation and q&a, as well as bags of her Humus Compost, one of which she left behind and I can’t wait to put it out into the garden - it looks like potent stuff and the bag weighs a tonne! Imagine how full of nutritious goodness it must be. You can source it direct from Rhonda at Ylad Soils.
We also had Emma-Jane Milosevic of The Still Room to participate in the conversation: Emma-Jane has been a longtime attendee of workshops here and it was a lovely opportunity to invite her to be on the other side. With a background in all things food, she’s become a fabulous soil advocate, following holistic and regenerative practices on her farm in the Southern Highlands. Emma Jane also writes engagingly and I’ll list her in my Substack recommendations. She wrote a lovely follow-up to last Sunday’s event on her Substack page, as well as a glorious short piece on this week’s full moon and biodynamic practice: the two are utterly interlinked and the full moon following our soil event could not have made for better timing…in the real world, or Emma-Jane’s two articles!
We also introduced Andy and Liz Gowrie, of Gowrie Farm Cheese, who like Emma-Jane, are members of the community group Sustainable Table - a growing resource that represents farmers who are implementing regenerative practice into their farming.
I know I’m running out of space so…I’ll come back to local dairy farmers Andy and Liz and their cheese another time because…it’s delicious and made the best accompaniment to my Pumpkin, Apple & Ginger Soup with sourdough, fennel frond pistou and a good splosh of Anna’s Monk’s Lane Olive Oil.
But in the end, it all came back to the SOIL.
The day also began with soil…and whilst I probably should have been making haste to the shower after the morning’s manic set-up, instead I was digging a bucket load of Jerusalem artichokes from the ground so I could run them, soil and all, down the centre of the tables! I was delighted that Rhonda thought my soil looked and smelled beaut, and she was intrigued that I reckon a crop of Jerusalem artichokes improves soil consistency like nothing else. I have a huge mound of them if anyone would like to come and collect some to sow - now is the time - the eating is all but done, it’s time to plant now for next year’s crop.
In gardening news, winter work in The Borders is now complete, which makes me happy. They are such a focal point of the garden - not just pretty much the first thing most visitors see but they also make the view from the Dairy - so they bolster all workshops, events and lunches. The plants I grow there are inclined to be the first to take off as the weather begins to warm, so it’s imperative to get the work done before they do.
With pruning completed the week before, Thalia managed to get both sides fully composted and mulched this week, so everyone can now grow happily on - they’re primped and preened and well tucked in for the season ahead.
The first apricot blossom opened on Monday, the peach yesterday, both in the Kitchen Garden, whilst Manchurian Pears are beginning to flower in the Park. Too soon, too soon I keep thinking! Once it begins though, each specimen spills in its annual sequence and there’s no holding any of it back!
And now I’m going to wind up because I’m feeling mildly panic stricken and I am sorry to rush to the end! Phoebe is about to arrive for our Alchemilla Lunar Cultivation Workshop tomorrow - she’s flying up from Melbourne and I do want to be ready to welcome her! I’ve been cooking up a storm all morning (luckily I got a lot of this into draft yesterday!) and I’ll share some recipes from today’s cooking in next week’s post. I was reflecting earlier though, on how quickly the season and what we eat changes. Whilst Pumpkin Soup was simply perfect at last Sunday’s lunch, I truly don’t want to see it again this weekend! I have a batch of Scented Veg Broth cooling on the cooktop and it’s filling the kitchen with it’s highly aromatic aroma. There’s a Lemon Cake sitting on a cooling rack and the makings of a Spring Greens Pie. Radicchio and rocket are soaking and there are orange segments to prepare.
The usual notes are below and how I wish you a spring-like weekend ahead - even if we’re not officially there yet!
With very warm wishes
Mickey x
Productive garden notes:
Eating from the garden:
Navel oranges, mandarins (going), Lisbon lemons, rhubarb; Jerusalem artichokes (going), parsnip (I think Clemmie’s eaten them all!), pumpkins. Leaves of all kinds - spinach, kale - cavolo nero (Red Russian is still growing on), leeks, lettuce, radicchio, rocket, red elk mustard leaf, warrigal greens. Cauliflower (one to go), broccoli, fennel bulbs, radish. Peas, broad bean tips* - both morsels of pure delight! I still haven’t pulled the Savoy Cabbage! Fennel fronds, parsley, mint, rosemary, thyme, chives, coriander, nasturtium and calendula petals, borage flowers.
*For years I’ve thought of broad bean tips as a little treat, an adjunct to the crop, but this year we’ve had so many, I must declare them to be as significant a part of the eating cycle as the beans that will follow.
Going / gone: Tomatoes - I baked the ones earlier this week - August is a record for tomatoes here! Jerusalem artichokes - we dug them all up this week, as is normal for August. From now, they would begin to shrivel in the ground, so I’ve rescued a couple of dozen, scrubbed them clean, let them dry and have them stored in the fridge where they should keep for a couple of weeks. So the eating is not quite yet done. I asked Thalia to take the 12 very best ones and replant them, spaced out, as I’ve done every year for about 30! I don’t add anything to the soil (not even compost) but just mulch on top. The earth from where they came was alive with earthworms and…as Rhonda Daly said, hyphae!
Seed saving: pulled the ornamental carrot!
Sowing: lettuce and rocket are on my sowing wishlist! Most of the tomatoes have germinated which means it’s nail-biting time (though their stems are a bit stronger this week!).
Planting: none although I’d like to get some lettuce seedlings but will have to wait for the next market. That said I’ve noted a few popping up from seed in odd places so I might do some transplanting!
Ornamental garden notes:
Picking for the house: Solandra trumpets, Jasmine and the first stems of Clivea.
Perfumes and aromas: Jasmine, Solandra, Daphne, Ceanothus (in the Barn Garden) and…now please don’t laugh, but the one I want to draw your attention to is the perfume of broad bean blossom! I’m not kidding! I noticed this glorious scent flooding the kitchen garden air the very first year I planted a crop, but in my naivety, at first couldn’t place from where it emanated. The blossom requires the warmth of a day of sunshine to make it sing, so you won’t notice ‘til 4’ish in the afternoon, when it’s then, that delicious, sweet smell accompanies each evening pick and will do, hopefully, for the entire month ahead. I think I mentioned some posts back that I would get you growing broad beans yet! Bet you didn’t imagine it would be for eau de fava!
Pruning and other: Oak leaf hydrangeas, last of the wormwood, anemone, heliotrope - all of these in the Courtyard and Arc, where I spent a couple of hours earlier in the week. I spread a lot more dynamic lifter / chicken manure pellets around the Courtyard, Arc and Barn Garden and Thalia has added compost and mulch to the Courtyard and half the Arc. How I hope to prune the field roses on Sunday!
I’m not sure why, but each week I seem to be in the throes of cooking so need to come back to your post to re-read, not a problem, a joy actually. And that lemon tart, yum. I remember making one which I actually had to bake, but it still looked like yours, I can’t remember who the chef was, but it was so delicious, now I need to try this one. I need another reason to use up our proliferation of lemons as well as contact all the neighbours in our court to ask if they would like some. Thank you Mickey, catch you next week. 🤗
Glorious as always Mickey! X