Sweet peas…Tiger’s chilled minted pea soup

29 September 2014 ~ Fiona ~ Leave a comment

This year we grew peas.

So what?

There is something almost magical about peas that you pick and shell – to pop into your mouth – in the pea patch. Little can beat the flavour of those little round orbs as they pop with their unique sweetness.

Peas are “up there” as my favourite vegetable. I remember my mother freezing them – by the ton. It’s amazing that there were any to freeze: my sister and I used to sneak out of the house, through the courtyard, past the plum tree, over the lawn to the vegetable garden, where we would fill our faces with the sweetest peas in living memory. First the peas, and then the shells.

I always have peas in the deep freeze; besides anything, they’re a great standby. Every year, I want to grow peas, and have tried, from time to time, over the years. Tom was never that enthusiastic: “You have to have lots of plants to have enough to eat,” he said.

We hadn’t tried growing peas in McGregor; somehow this this year, I prevailed and we planted peas. Just one packet. The germination rate could have been better, but any way, we must have had about ten plants – more than we’d ever had.

I was delighted. Even more so, when I discovered that the profusion of pods were filled with tiny peas. It was all I could do to wait until they were plump enough to pluck and eat!

I suppose that as my favourite vegetable, peas are also a non-negotiable accompaniment of some the meals that are, for me, the very comforting: egg and chips; fish cakes…. I also add them to risotto (right at the end), to salads, raw, and always cook them with a large sprig of mint from the garden. Oh, and the water you drain off those peas, is a wonderful addition to gravy and/or vegetable stock.

Peas are at their best when young, but when you grow your own, it’s inevitable that you miss some and if you’re lucky to have a good crop, you can’t eat them all at their sweetest. So it was for us, last Monday, when we had our last picking. Some of the peas were, as my Mum would have said, “rather elderly!” I looked at this lot and thought that they’d not be good to freeze, let alone eat as a side dish.

It had been a hot day, and then I remembered Tiger’s chilled pea and mint soup that we had so enjoyed. I thought that I’d give it a bash. No recipe, you understand, just Fiona on the fly. So I flung the peas in a pot, along with some vegetable stock and cooked the up lot. Not for too long, but longer than if we had been eating them “as is”. Then I gave that lot a whizz with an immersion blender, and added some fresh mint, gave it another whizz and then put it into the fridge. As I recall, Tiger’s soup was smooth and refreshing, and although creamy, not heavy. So, as I didn’t have any cream, I added a little mascarpone. With hind sight, I should have strained the soup, or cooked the mint in with the peas – fresh mint is a bit fibrous, so it doesn’t give one as smooth a puree as one would like, nor the visual impact, for that matter. All of that said, the soup was more than edible.

Little did we know, as we enjoyed our Tiger-inspired chilled mint and pea soup, that on Sunday (yesterday), we would have been celebrating a lovely man, and a life well lived. He, with his beloved Jill and four-legged Denzil, welcomed us to the village, before we were resident here. They, and he, are integral to not just our earliest memories of McGregor, but the fabric of our community. I shall make this soup again and it shall, forever, in our home, be known as Tiger’s chilled, minted pea soup.

Post script: Tiger was the co-owner and chef at Green Gables at the Old Mill, two doors away from us. A visit to Green Gables is a non-negotiable part of any visit to our village. Jill, you and your family are much in our thoughts.

And behind the scenes….after…

5 September 201412 June 2021 ~ Fiona ~ Leave a comment

I have a love-hate relationship with trade shows and festivals. I have, in my time, been on both sides of the table – stall holder, exhibitor and visitor. I have also organised a number of conferences, so I have a good idea of what goes into the organisation of fairly large events: none of it is very glamorous; it is always hard work. I must be a glutton for punishment, because this weekend was McGregor’s equivalent of a food and wine festival with a few other things thrown in for good measure. We (because my wonderful, long suffering husband goes way above and beyond in support of my crazy notions – even though he doesn’t always agree…) were there. Preparations involved a visit to a town 45 minutes away to get bits and bobs, as well as to the the town in which we usually shop, to order what we needed. Our offering was Boerewors rolls with onion marmalade, butternut and ginger soup as well as chicken liver paté – all home made.

For the uninitiated, Boerewors (literal translation “farmers’ sausage) is a traditional sausage which can be compared with Chorizo or Bratwurst, except that it is usually made with beef. It was first made by the trek boers and is always spiced – the dominant one being dried coriander. Tom, in his time as a rancher, made his own, and every butcher worth his salt has his own recipe and secret ingredients. For this occasion we chose a Kudu (venison) wors.

So, after three days’ preparation, two of which were in the kitchen, peeling and chopping onions and butternut to make three kilograms of onion marmalade, 15 litres of butternut soup and 2,5 kilograms of chicken liver paté , we set off on Saturday morning at what seems, for me, an ungodly hour.

All of that said, there is a whole lot that goes on behind the scenes, that outsiders don’t get to experience. I’ve had tremendous fun at some of the events I’ve participated in, and this weekend was no different. We worked hard, and we played hard. Harder, on both counts than we had planned! Originally, we were not to have worked for two days and had booked for one of the evening functions, which we knew would be an “opskop” (a party with lots of loud music, laughter and dancing)… As we were shutting up shop, we were persuaded to return on Sunday – and we had sufficient stock to be able to do so.

Off we went to our evening “do”, with all sorts of good intentions… Good company, lovely wine and food and, best of all, toe-tapping music and we eventually turned off the light in the wee hours of Sunday morning, knowing we had to be set up and “smoking” by ten o’clock – just a few hours away. And no, I don’t have photographs of the evening, but I do have a picture of the inside of the tent, taken from our stall, before that day really began. I was not nearly as bright eyed and bushy tailed as on Saturday!

Although none of us enjoy days that are too quiet, it does give the stall holders time to talk to each other. Virtually everyone who comes to these festivals, either as participants or visitors, has an appreciation of artisan products, and much is often complementary or we have much in common. Conversations about business, products and how they might work together are invaluable.

Miss L J Hall produces the most wonderful range of Worcester Sauces – made in Worcester, South Africa – one of which we have used for years. She told me that her curried Worcester Sauce is a wonderful accompaniment to butternut soup and promptly gave a complimentary bottle. Understanding that there is always a cost, the least I could do, was give her a chicken liver paté. Actually, much sharing and bartering goes on at festivals – a boerewors roll for wonderful wine from Lord’s, butternut soup for wonderful dried olives from Voor Den Berg, pineapples from Bathurst (not far from the town where I grew up), not to mention being able to buy the most wonderful organic cheeses, also from the Eastern Cape.

And then it’s all over – the good-byes, the see-you-next-times, the travel-safelys. The tent is broken down and soon the grass patch next to the Church looks much as though the festival had never happened.

This is when the locals and the die-hards kick of their shoes and relax. And so it was on Sunday. Two benches were pushed together and we all gathered around the table. What followed was wonderful camaraderie, conversation and gales of laughter that continued well after the stalls had been packed up and the “gates” closed.

Dusk arrived and with it, the cool of early spring, necessitating a move under cover, so the gathering adjourned and moved across the road to the Overdraught Pub at the McGregor Country House ………..

Veg-ing out

17 August 2014 ~ Fiona ~ Leave a comment

I have flirted with vegetarianism on and off for about thirty years, particularly when I lived alone – which I have done, not unhappily, on and off, until I finally settled down with Tom. One of the first, if not the first, recipe book I bought, was the A – Z of Vegetarian Cooking in South Africa. And two of our favourite quiche fillings (leek & onion, and spinach & feta) are based on recipes from this book. I do confess that I work very hard at not thinking about the journey that meat must take to reach my kitchen.

Consequently, entertaining friends who are vegetarian is fun! Well, I think so, anyway. For some, it’s a challenge, so I thought I’d share with you what I did when our neighbours joined us for a long overdue dinner, a few weeks ago.

It was a Friday evening and Fridays are my day in the kitchen, preparing for the market. This particular Friday, I was really in the mode, so it was in for a penny, in for a pound. The broccoli was ready to pick and we had ripe gooseberries, so there were two ready ingredients.

That said, it was cold and miserable and had the makings of becoming even more so, and what is more warming than cottage pie, I thought. So, instead of the beef mince, I used beautiful green lentils, soaked and cooked, that were added to sautéd onions and mushrooms. This was seasoned with chopped garlic, some tomato paste, a twig of fresh rosemary and a good glug of red wine. A lesson I learned, and which I had forgotten, was that it’s really easy to let this mixture dry out – watch it and add water and/or vegetable stock so that it stays nice and moist as the flavours develop. Transferred to an oven proof dish, this was topped with a potato and butternut mash, dotted with knobs of butter and baked in the oven for about 20 minutes to half an hour. The butter is what gives you the crispy, caremelised crust on the cottage pie which was served with a garden salad.

So, we started our dinner with broccoli soup, made with the first picking, and discovered to my delight, that not only does Ant enjoy soup, but particularly loves creamy ones.

For dessert, we had a gooseberry tart with jam I had made earlier in the day.

No meal is complete without wine. We don’t really do the wine-pairing thing. Although we do take the menu into consideration, we choose what we like, and what we think our guests will like. As usual, we chose beautiful wines from our valley: Tanagra‘s Heavenly Chaos (isn’t that a wonderful name for a wine?), a lovely red blend, which is beautifully different every year, and Springfield’s Life from Stone, one of my favourite Sauvignon Blanc wines.

Pat and Ant, it was fun – we’ll do it again!

Eating to live and living to eat?

17 July 2014 ~ Fiona ~ Leave a comment

I enjoy preparing and eating food. I lost my sweet tooth a long time ago, although I do enjoy the odd dessert from time to time. My preference is for uncomplicated meals which, in old fashioned language, would have been known as “balanced”. Although not vegetarian, I prefer not to eat meat every day, eating quite a few vegetarian meals – often with eggs and cheese.

Over the last few weeks I have heard and read much about converts to the Banting diet, and similarly also heard what the detractors are saying about it. Also, over the past few months, I have made certain choices about my own eating habits: in mid-January, I decided to try to do without bread and potatoes. During the week.

I know from previous efforts at diets that they are deadly: for personal harmony and for the weekly menu, particularly if it’s not just me that’s to be considered. So, I decided that those were the only two things that I would change – and only for me. I continued having my evening tipple and cooking dinner in exactly the same way as I always had. Lunches, for me, are salads which include either lots of cheese or cold chicken and, sometimes quiche or soup (there is always a protein, and with most tasty protein, there is fat). As time has progressed, I have found myself avoiding other starches, particularly rice and commercial pasta. I make my own pasta, and as I’ve mentioned before, that has had an impact on the quantity we eat per serving, so I’m still eating that. Also, when we entertain, I still make and keep our guests company with dessert, and the menu choices are not influenced by my particular proclivities.

Since I’ve been thinking consciously about these choices, and as more and more people are Banting, I have realised that for some, their conversion to a particular eating regime has become an all or nothing affair. Similarly, I am astounded, respect but fail to understand, people who go on diets that make them feel as though they are living in hell. Each to their own.

So, my “almost-no-carb-journey” has been a relatively easy one because I’ve not cut it completely. I have taken on board, with great relief, that full cream milk and butter are ok. (Tom has never approved of low fat anything…) I have long rejected margarine because of the way it was made, and what it consists of (and it tastes horrid). A few years ago, on examining the contents of yoghurt, come to the conclusion that Greek yoghurt was better for one than the low fat options that are full of sugar and starch stabilisers!

And then, there’s more: Having stuck to my choices, I no longer get hungry and consequently am not eating as much. I am happy to stop eating when I am satisfied. I thought that I would find it difficult to stick to this when I was travelling; it hasn’t been. It’s easy to “lose the chips” and order a burger without the bun.

And what has all of this meant in terms of my own well-being? I have certainly lost weight – my friends and my clothes are telling me so. I don’t have a scale, so I couldn’t tell you how much. I feel better in myself and have more energy. And best of all, because I do still get to enjoy a slice of toast and Bovril or pizza, and my glass(es) of wine, I really don’t miss the bread and potato.

So, I do eat to live, and I live to (cook and) eat!

Waste not, want not – I

10 July 2014 ~ Fiona ~ 7 Comments

Both my parents grew up in the UK in the Second World War: Mum in Oxford, where her mother took in evacuees and then later also billeted soldiers. Dad grew up in Glasgow, and with his sister, Belle, evacuated to a poultry farm . Consequently, we grew up constantly hearing, “waste not, want not”. Little was thrown away.

So, last Friday, I was making quiches. One of the fillings was broccoli and blue cheese. Having cut off the florets, I was left with this beautiful, thick broccoli stem.

Too good to put into the compost bucket, I thought; and it was a cold, cold day.

Soup is always a good lunch during winter, and a vegetable soup relatively quick to make. So, why not turn the stem into broccoli soup?

Here’s what I did: chopped an onion and sautéd it in a little butter, and then added about a table spoon of flour (you want the soup to have a bit of body). Covered the chopped stalk with vegetable stock and allowed it to boil. Simmer until the vegetables are soft; liquidise and then add some cheese (because I had some, I used Camembert) and liquidise again to ensure the cheese is well distributed. Re-heat and serve with sprinkling of freshly grated nutmeg.

Tips:

I use Ina Paarman’s vegetable stock powder – it’s a useful standby, and is neither too salty, nor has too many preservatives
Save some of the broccoli florets – steam them and add them to the soup when you serve it.
Of course, you can also add a swirl of cream or a dollop of Greek yoghurt to serve…

Crazy about Courgettes

18 May 2014 ~ Fiona ~ Leave a comment

We have always loved courgettes and eat them in a host of different ways. Tom will even eat them raw, like an apple. So, this year, we have successfully grown them, and when Sannie (pronounced “sunny – because she is) Boervrou, a farmer friend of ours dropped off a box of them, I had such fun making all sorts of things courgette – including for breakfast. So, in addition to pasta carbonara, here are some other really cool ways to cook delicious courgettes – for breakfast, lunch and/or dinner!

Courgette Frittata

Regular readers of this blog know that breakfast is not usually my domain – other than public holidays – and we’ve had a few of those in the last month. The most recent was voting day in South Africa. With no need to get up early, brunch was in order, and with fresh-from-the-vine courgette, and a beautiful autumn day, I thought that a frittata might be fun. A frittata is like a Spanish omelette, but is grilled and can be eaten hot or cold.

I roughly grated one courgette and beat together three eggs to which I added a little milk, salt and pepper as well as a good chunk of butter, chopped into small pieces. In a large pan, in hot olive oil and butter, lightly sauté the courgette and then pour in the egg mixture. Swirl a little in the pan and then cook over a gentle heat until it starts to bubble. While this is happening, warm the grill. When the mixture is quite firm around the edges but “wet-ish” in the middle, sprinkle fresh, chopped origanum and a little finely grated Parmesan or pecorino over the top. Place it under the grill until the egg is firm and the top is nicely browned. A frittata can be served immediately or left to cool. I served our courgette frittata warm, with tomatoes topped with a dollop of cottage cheese and grilled.

Zupa Zucchini

Courgette and Camembert soup makes a delicious light lunch, particularly in autumn. This soup is quite special to me – the original recipe comes from a school friend who now lives in Melbourne, and whom I’ve not seen since school days – some 30-odd years ago. We have reconnected through Facebook and now enjoy cricket “together”, continents apart. So, to make this, you sauté onion and courgette (coarsely chopped) with a potato in a pot and then add stock (ratio of courgette to stock is 1:1). Bring to the boil and simmer until all the vegetables are soft. Liquidise and then season, add Camembert to taste and liquidise again to make sure that the Camembert is well distributed in the soup.

You can make this in a vegan, Kosher or Halaal form by using vegetable stock and omitting the cheese. I have also substituted the potato with a little flour which is added to the vegetables to which you then add the warm or hot stock.

Stuffed courgettes

The last idea that I’m going to share with you is a delicious side dish. The idea came from a few recipes I’ve used and the inclusion of rosemary was the consequence of a suggestion from a friend in the village.

Select nicely shaped, firm courgettes and, depending on the size, half or more, per person. (It’s easier to work with larger ones, so I’d recommend large ones). Cut in half and scoop out the centre and set aside. Pop the shells into a moderate oven, drizzled with olive oil and bake for about 10 minutes – make sure they stay firm. Then, in a pan, sauté finely chopped onion, red pepper and a clove of garlic as well as the reserved flesh. Season to taste and add a little oreganum and/or parsley. Remove the shells from the oven and then stuff, placing a sprig of fresh rosemary between pairs of courgettes – the lovely flavour gently infuses into the marrows as they cook. Put this back in the oven and bake for 10-15 minutes. Garnish with fresh rosemary and serve as a side dish.

Don’t use dried rosemary, or chop rosemary and add it to the mixture – it is too strong and will overpower everything else.

A twisted Vicheysoisse, among other things…

24 February 2014 ~ Fiona ~ Leave a comment

For the last year or so, I have been making and selling seasonal soups at our local pop-up market. A soup that I made on a whim, and which we enjoyed, didn’t take off, so I didn’t make it again. In my recollection, there had been no sales. Then, imagine my surprise, two Saturdays’ ago, a regular, who has been stocking up on soup, said, “What about that one you made with spinach and sweet potato?”

So, at Jean’s request, I made it again – this time in the height of summer. Consequently, we tried it chilled: it was as delicious cold as it was hot. So, this is my twisted Vicheysoisse:

Roast the sweet potatoes – with onion and garlic if you like – for about 45 minutes. Add to a large soup pot and then add roughly shredded spinach (including all the stalks – why waste them when you’re going to puree the soup anyway?), followed by vegetable stock to cover the sweet potato. Bring to the boil and simmer for about half an hour, until all the vegetables are soft. Puree with a hand blender and season to taste. Serve with a swirl of plain yoghurt and a grating of nutmeg.

And, of course, the soup-making was accompanied by more seasonal quiche fillings – this time, with the addition of beautiful peppers from the garden. Two different fillings – first, leeks with red pepers and then roasted vegetables (butternut, sweet potato, garlic, baby tomatoes, onions and peppers).