Celebration breads

DSC_0007 copyI know it’s not fashionable to appreciate gluten these days, but our household thrives on bread. No holiday celebration is complete without at least one bread. Holidays are an excuse to bake something different, something extravagant. Today rated two special breads. I made hot cross buns for breakfast, and Ian made a challah the size of a toddler, which we enjoyed with home made goat cheddar for lunch.

DSC_0002 copyEnjoy your day, whether you are celebrating Easter, Passover, or just a beautiful day in April! May it be full of bread!

Easter Egg Engineering

First, they dyed the eggs.

First, they dyed the eggs.

The annual glut of hard-boiled eggs is about to begin. The children dyed eggs this afternoon. This year I challenged them to create Lego machines that would allow them to paint designs on their eggs. They took on the challenge with enthusiasm! One created a remote-controlled machine to rotate the egg. The other created a machine that rotated the egg, and moved it up and down, and held a cotton swab soaked in food colouring, all at the same time. The results were pretty impressive.

The remote controlled model.

The remote controlled model.

The deluxe model, complete with cotton swab holder.

The deluxe model, complete with cotton swab holder.

Peanut Butter Eggs

With older kids, now, I didn't even need to do anything--they did it all (except the dishes).

With older kids, now, I didn’t even need to do anything–they did it all (except the dishes).

I don’t go in much for Easter candy. Waxy chocolate rabbits and creepy marshmallow chicks? Ick! I do, however, have in inordinate fondness for homemade peanut butter and coconut eggs, made with good dark chocolate. Years ago, one of the secretaries where I worked made them and sold them every Easter, and I had no resistance whatsoever. They were a daily treat for me until her supply was gone.

Thankfully, I don’t have that temptation any more, but last week my son asked me to pick up smooth peanut butter and chocolate for peanut butter eggs. What could I do, but comply?DSC_0008 copy

 

The Daily Bread

My bread can't compare to these beauties of Ian's.

My bread can’t compare to these beauties of Ian’s.

Last night when I put another four quarts of peaches in the freezer (still working through those 40 kg!), I noticed we were nearly out of bread.

Ian is under a crunch of deadlines at work and is unlikely to take the Easter weekend off, and if he does, he has a huge DIY project underway at home, so there is no way he will be making bread this weekend. That leaves it up to me to fill the gap.

I’m always a bit nervous baking bread. I make a fine loaf, but I don’t have the practiced skill Ian has at bread. Imagine drawing a picture for Picasso—that’s a bit what it’s like to bake bread for Ian.

He is kind, and says nice things about my bread, gives me advice. We both know that putting up with my bread occasionally is part of what it means to live in our family. Just as sometimes he does the milking for me, we both take responsibility for just doing what needs to be done. We’ve tried to teach this to our children—the skill of walking into a situation, seeing what needs doing, and doing it without being asked. It is one of those skills that makes a person stand out as an employee, a roommate, a co-worker, and a friend. People who have this skill are the ones who walk into the kitchen at a party, see the pile of dishes in the sink, and wash them. They are the co-workers who empty the staff room dishwasher, the children who clear their plates from the dinner table, the students who tidy the classroom bookshelves as they look for something to read. We love these people. They make everyone’s lives better.

So I know it is okay that my loaves are not as beautiful or well-made as Ian’s. Part of being on this family team is sharing responsibilities, accepting help, and recognizing that we all need to pitch in and do what we can to keep the whole family operation running smoothly.

Farewell to Christmas

DSC_0004As I tidied the kitchen the other day, I noticed a candy cane hanging forlornly from the fruit basket. I thought it was time to toss it out, being nearly Easter.

It happens almost every year, the leftover candy canes. None of us really likes them, but Christmas isn’t Christmas without them. Candy canes in the stockings are like milk and cookies for Santa—you’ve got to do it, even though you know it’s silly (Santa really wants beer and chips, after all). I buy as few as possible, but the smallest box they come in contains six of them. That’s about six more than we really want to eat. The kids, being kids, manage to eat theirs eventually, though they are the last of the Christmas treats to go. The rest get hung on the tree for decoration, then tossed into a cupboard (or this year, hung on the edge of the fruit basket).

When I start thinking about Easter, I know it is time to ditch the candy canes. Time to make way for the confections of Easter.

To care and to share

DSC_0006 copyIn addition to peaches, we foraged for walnuts at the dentist’s house on Sunday. Even more than the peaches, the walnuts illustrate what I so like about the dentist. He and his family don’t like walnuts, and they don’t have a walnut tree. The walnuts at his house come from the neighbour’s tree, planted on the fence line and hanging over into his paddock. He won’t use them himself, but every year he collects them and gives them away. As a well-paid dentist, he has no reason to be concerned about a little food waste, but he cannot bear to see good food rot. Even if it is food he won’t eat himself, he takes the time to gather it up and make sure it is eaten by someone.

If every person in the developed world just cared as much about the people and resources around them, imagine how much less waste, less pollution, less strife there would be. To care and to share…wouldn’t it be lovely.

Step Away From The Kitchen!

There's more to life than the kitchen!

There’s more to life than the kitchen!

“I don’t know what is more terrifying…that your blog makes you seem like this insane woman who spends all day in the kitchen, or that you really are an insane woman who spends all day in the kitchen.”

I just want to make it perfectly clear that I do not spend all day in the kitchen. I may be insane (indeed, I’m pretty sure I am), but not in that way.

For example, I spent all afternoon Saturday in the garden, and Sunday morning I cleaned the house and payed a social call to the dentist. I just finished editing a resource management plan for a client, and soon I will move on to the main task of each week day, writing and selling (well, trying to sell) my books (which have nothing to do with food, though sometimes characters do eat).

Have I spent an inordinate amount of time in the kitchen lately? Yes, at least on weekends. But it is harvest time, and extra work now means I can spend winter evenings sewing, or curled up with a book. I intend to enjoy every one of the frozen and canned meals I’ve been working so hard on lately, and I will take full advantage of the extra hours I gain later, spending them out of the kitchen.

Oh boy! Oh boy!

DSC_0005 copyEvery crack in my hands is stained purple. My fingernails have turned a dark grey. The floor, walls and cupboards in the kitchen are splattered magenta. There is a sticky splotch on my big toe that looks remarkably like a terrible wound.

These are the inevitable result of working my way through the better part of 40 kg of black boy peaches.

The dentist called mid-week to say he had a box of peaches for me; I should call in at the office and pick them up (this is the gardening dentist I mentioned in a previous blog). Along with the 10 kg box of peaches was an invitation to coffee (and more peaches) this morning. We came home with a veritable carload of peaches (more than 30 kg, though I haven’t weighed them all). The first 10 kg became 10 pints of spiced peach butter. Then I filled up my remaining quart jars (14) with canned peaches, and made enough peach crisp for a generous dessert tonight and breakfast tomorrow morning.

There are still about 12 kg left. I’m out of jars, out of freezer boxes. Hmm…I suppose that means we’ll have to eat peach pie, peach cobbler, peach shortbread, peach muffins, peaches on granola, and just plain old peaches all week. Darn. 🙂

Step out

I step out of the light and steam of the kitchen,

Away from the hum of the fridge,

From the smell of cake and jam.

 

Orion hangs overhead in the cool still air.

The moon

Floats with him.

Light, noise and steam are shut in.

Night is out.

 

One breath.

Two breaths.

The night whispers.

Memory of the day fades

Into inky black sky.

 

I am caught.

Held.

Soothed.

By velvet silence.

 

In praise of the freezer

Hurrah for the freezer that allows us to enjoy hot homemade pizza in 15 minutes!

Hurrah for the freezer that allows us to enjoy hot homemade pizza in 15 minutes!

This evening, the kids have a piano recital. But first, we will stay late at school for band practice, and Ian will come home late from work because of a meeting. There will be precious little time between the day’s events and the evening’s event to cook and eat a meal.

Thank God for the domestic freezer (or perhaps I should thank the dozens of inventors who worked on developing and refining refrigeration technology since 1755). Despite the tight schedule, we will eat well this evening. A homemade pizza awaits us in the freezer. Fifteen minutes in the oven is all it will take to turn that icy block into a delicious meal.

This is our first year with a chest freezer, and we are singing the praises of modern refrigeration technology (at least until the power goes out for four days, which has been known to happen in this shaky land). In the past, we’ve not been able to freeze vegetables, because the little freezer space we had was needed for the 24 loaves of bread Ian makes every two or three weeks. We resisted getting a chest freezer for a variety of reasons—space constraints, cost, the frequency with which the power goes out (5 times so far in the month of March)—but after the cheese fridge died, we decided to give the chest freezer a try (it could sit where the cheese fridge had been, after all, and the cheese…well, we’d figure out where that was going later).

In the heat and bustle of summer, it was lovely to be able to quickly prepare fruit for freezing, rather than laboriously canning it and steaming up the kitchen. It was delightful to be able to plant as many peas as I had space for, knowing I could freeze the excess. I was thrilled to be able to freeze the extra corn, rather than watch it dry out on the plants. And when the pumpkins start to rot in late winter, I’ll be able to bake dozens of them at a time in the bread oven and freeze the flesh so we don’t lose them.

So, thank you William Cullen, Oliver Evans, Jacob Perkins, Alexander Twining, James Harrison, Ferdinand Carré, Nathaniel Wales and many, many others who have refined this technology over hundreds of years and brought us the modern freezer.