I can, can you?

November 8, 2015 / Robinne Weiss / Leave a comment

Faced with 45 artichokes, there’s really only one thing to do—pull out the pressure canner, and bottle them up for later.

We thought long and hard before buying a pressure canner years ago—it was expensive, and signalled a whole new level of commitment to preserving than a simple water bath canner.

And then, of course, there are all the horror stories about exploding pressure canners. When the canner arrived, emblazoned with more warning stickers than a case of TNT, it didn’t alleviate my concerns.

But now I can’t imagine being without it. We can preserve so much more of what we grow, and not everything needs to be pickled to be preserved.

Pressure canning changes vegetables—the high pressure and temperature destroys their structure and basically turns them to mush. I wouldn’t want to subsist on pressure canned vegetables.

But our summer soup

LINK provides a burst of summer flavour, and wonderfully convenient instant meals through the winter. A few jars of canned green beans mean we can make our favourite Indian charcharis any time of the year. And canned artichokes add incredible flavour to pizzas, regardless of their texture. We could freeze these things, of course, but especially here where the power goes out with such frequency, having some of our preserved food not dependent on a continuous supply of electricity is a good idea. It also saves room in the freezer for those things that really don’t do well in the canner—berries, corn, peas, and of course the bread and baked goods from our baking days.

Compost Pile

November 7, 2015 / Robinne Weiss / 1 Comment

My husband calls it Mt. Robinne, and sometimes it feels like I’ve heaved an entire mountain onto the compost pile. This is my first spring with the new compost bins. They constrain the spread of the pile, forcing it upward.

Today I put the last of the winter weeds on the pile. From here on out, I’ll leave most weeds lying in the garden paths to act as mulch. This is as tall as the compost pile will get this year.

Good thing, as it reached the height of the greenhouse this morning. The pile will sit there sintering for a few weeks. When I’ve recovered from the springtime garden preparation, and when all the plants are planted out, I will move the mountain again, turning and watering the pile so that it composts properly.

For now, though, I’ll enjoy the respite from mountain building.

Siren Call

November 6, 2015 / Robinne Weiss / Leave a comment

I fidget at the computer.

Perhaps the greenhouse needs watering.

I fling open the office door.

The smell of grass reminds me I need to mow.

I type a few words

Then delete them.

Do the goats need their hooves trimmed?

Maybe I should go have a look.

I check my e-mail.

I watch a pair of sparrows build their nest.

I should be working, but

You know, if I just did half an hour of weeding now

There would be less to do on the weekend.

Perhaps an early lunch.

I’ll sit in the sun, bare feet in the grass.

And then, perhaps…

I will give in, and follow the siren’s call

To the garden.

Library Evolution

November 5, 2015 / Robinne Weiss / 1 Comment

I remember libraries as a child. They were quiet, austere places. No food or chewing gum was allowed to enter, and librarians had lips permanently puckered from saying “Shhhh!” We tiptoed between towering shelves of books in hushed silence. We spoke in whispers when we dared to speak at all. Our books were chosen and checked out with a minimum of noise. The librarians’ well-oiled carts rattled like cattle trucks through the hushed corridors.

But something happened between the time I graduated from university and the time I got my children their first library cards. Libraries transformed and reinvented themselves.

Comfortable couches in conversational arrangements and large tables that encouraged discussion replaced the tiny desks tucked into dark corners. Children were invited in to flop into bean bag chairs with their favourite books. Librarians stopped saying “Shhhh!” and began leading children in songs, belted out in the middle of the library for all to hear.

No Food or Drink signs gave way to cafés inside the library. Now you can browse your favourite titles while having a coffee or eating lunch. You can sit and chat with friends—loudly—and no raptor librarians swoop upon you with a scowl.

Community groups began to meet in the library. Not in some ante-chamber tucked away behind a soundproof door, but right smack in the middle of the library. Knitting and gossiping, playing board games, having raucous meetings.

Televisions and computers showed up, and now you can watch a football match, or play video games in the library.

Libraries have awakened. They have roused from their quiet slumber and become vibrant community hubs. The smell of book binding glue is now mixed with the aroma of fresh coffee and scones. The turning of pages is matched by the tap of keyboards. The hum of conversation overpowers the hum of the fluorescent lights.

I spend significant time in several different libraries, using them as an office when I can’t be in my own. I am not alone. Most days I have to fight for space at a table and a place to plug in my laptop. Some days it is almost unbearably noisy, and I have to resort to noise-cancellation headphones in order to concentrate. It is a far cry from the libraries of my youth.

I don’t mind. What better backdrop for our communities than that of books? What better place to go to engage and be inspired? To learn and grow?

Long live the library!

Cinnamon-Pumpkin Bars

November 4, 2015 / Robinne Weiss / 2 Comments

I thought it was time for another recipe, and this one is seasonally appropriate for you denizens of the Northern Hemisphere. I made it these lovely bars this week with the very last of the frozen pumpkin from last fall.

This recipe is adapted from a recipe in King Arthur Flour’s Whole Grain Baking. These are one-bowl wonders—incredibly quick and easy to mix up by hand. Something even young kids could manage on their own.

¾ cup (170g) butter

1 cup brown sugar

1 tsp vanilla

¾ tsp baking powder

¼ tsp salt

2 tsp cinnamon

¾ tsp ginger

¼ tsp cloves

¼ tsp allspice

1 egg

1 ½ cups cooked, mashed pumpkin

1 ½ cups whole wheat flour

1 ½ cups raisins or dried cranberries

Melt the butter in a largish bowl in the microwave. Add the sugar and stir. Return the mixture to the microwave and heat until it is starting to bubble. Allow the mixture to cool until it is comfortable to touch.

Beat in the vanilla, baking powder, salt and spices. Add the egg and beat until smooth. Stir in the pumpkin, flour and fruit.

Spoon the batter into a greased 9 x 13-inch pan, and bake 40 to 45 minutes at 180°C (350°F).

Feta Cheese

November 3, 2015 / Robinne Weiss / 2 Comments

Feta draining the kitchen.

I’m making one of my favourite cheeses this evening—feta. It’s the cheese that inspired me to get goats in the first place.

When we lived in St. Paul, Minnesota, there was a Greek deli just a couple of miles from home—Spiros (a quick Google tells me that Spiros is no longer open). Spiros sold several different feta cheeses, half a dozen types of olives, and all manner of other Mediterranean foods. We almost always had a block of feta from Spiros in the fridge.

When we moved to New Zealand, I was dismayed at the lack of good feta available. When we needed some livestock to keep the paddocks under control (just until we got around to planting the trees…that was 10 years ago), I chose goats so that I could make proper feta.

I was not disappointed by my decision. Feta made from goat milk, and processed just right to get the crumbly texture I like…divine!

We use feta in many ways. Because it is strongly flavoured and very salty, a little goes a long way, and more is wonderfully decadent. We add it to pasta, gratins, and pizza. It browns beautifully in the oven, and the “toasty bits” are everyone’s favourites. It is, of course, an essential ingredient in Greek salad, and also goes well with lentils and grains. And it can be marinated in olive oil and herbs for an incredible pop-it-in-your-mouth snack or appetizer.

And it’s one of the easiest cheeses to make!

Hand and Foot

November 2, 2015 / Robinne Weiss / Leave a comment

Hand and Foot always goes hand-in-hand with food.

Hand and foot is a 4-person card came similar to Canasta, and played with 4 decks of cards. The game was introduced to me by my husband’s family. Indeed, I think it must have been written into the marriage agreement somewhere—will learn Hand and Food and agree to play whenever called upon.

The game is a good mix of luck, skill, and partner compatibility, so it works well as an evening’s entertainment at home or when visiting relatives.

Best of all, it is always accompanied by food—usually decadent and seasonally appropriate food. Cookies in the winter, ice cream in summer, strawberry shortcake in spring or pumpkin pie in the fall.

You might win or lose the game, but you always end happy and well-fed.

Dreaming Big

November 1, 2015 / Robinne Weiss / 1 Comment

Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched.

And don’t count your apples before they’re in the basket.

But it’s lovely this time of year to think what you’re going to do with that fruit if ALL the flowers end up producing a fruit. All the fruit trees were flush with flowers this spring—apples, pears, peaches, cherries…

But it’s a long time between October and April. Anything could happen, and it usually does.

Some of those flowers won’t get pollinated and will drop from the tree once they’re done blooming.

A storm will blow some of the pollinated flowers off the tree.

The tree will naturally prune some of its own fruit, because it simply cannot support so many.

Birds will snatch the small fruits as they ripen, and possums will eat the larger fruits.

A hail storm will damage or destroy more fruit.

Before you know it, there will be, not bushels of apples, but maybe a few. Enough for a couple of pies, some apple crisp. Not the larder-filling bounty that spring promised.

That’s okay. I’ll still count my apples by the flowers each spring. I’ll imagine the applesauce and the pies, the crisp bites of tart flesh, and it will be just as if they were actually here.

Trench Warfare

October 31, 2015 / Robinne Weiss / Leave a comment

We have precious few trees on our property, maybe a dozen in total, all clinging to the fence lines, out of the way.

Except that they’re not out of the way, really. Though they only cast brief shade on the vegetable garden, their roots encroach well into the garden. I know exactly where a tree has stretched its toes out by the swath of dead and dying vegetables, and the parched earth that accompanies them. Last year, I lost most of my zucchinis and an entire row of strawberries to the trees’ depredations.

I can pull some of the roots out when I’m weeding, but many invade deep in the soil.

So we resort to trench warfare to keep them out.

Every three or four years, we hire a trencher from the local equipment hire place (well, okay, my husband hires the trencher—I stay away from loud petrol-powered machines as much as possible), and dig a metre-deep trench all around the garden.

It makes an enormous difference to the vegetables—I can almost hear them breathe a sigh of relief when the tree roots are cut. The roots grow back, eventually, but the trench gives us a few years to garden without competition.

Milk the goat

October 30, 2015 / Robinne Weiss / Leave a comment

I can’t believe I’ve been milking nearly three weeks now and haven’t blogged about it.

After her disastrous kidding, my goat Ixcacao was given an antibiotic to prevent infection of her much-invaded uterus. That meant that I had to throw out her milk until the withholding period was over. So, though I’ve been milking, we haven’t had goat milk until this week.

I milk in a sheltered spot behind our large shed, where a previous owner conveniently built a head-lock for his beef cattle. We added a platform, a feed tray, and a roof to create a sturdy milking stand protected from the worst of the weather.

I milk twice a day for the first half of the milking season. 5.30 am and 4 pm. There are usually a few days of awkwardness after kidding, when doe and kids don’t want to be separated, but once everyone is into the routine, milking runs smoothly.

I enjoy milking, especially the early morning milking, which happens in the dark for the early and late part of the season. There is something soothing and centring about milking.

When it goes well…

“Watching you milk is just scary,” said my husband the other day. “You’re so fast at it.”

Milking is not the stress-free experience for him as it is for me. I forget sometimes what a steep learning curve it was for me the first time I was faced with goats with udders tight as drums who had never been milked. There was a lot of cursing, and more than a few tears. And there was a lot of spilled milk.

But with practice, the goats and I got much better at it. As I got quicker, they had more patience with me. I learned how to tell when they were about to kick, and how to prevent them from stepping in the milk. I learned the particular foibles of each goat—how to get them to stand still, whether their milk squirted from the teat at an angle, how to work with small teats or teats with small holes, how to manage an udder that sagged almost to the ground.

Instead of a test of wills, milking became a partnership between me and each goat. And so it became almost effortless.

Almost.

I still lose a pot of milk to a misplaced foot now and again, and ‘breaking in’ a new goat is never a smooth process.

But usually, if something goes wrong, I can fall back on some advice I read when I was first learning how to milk—relax and just milk the damn goat. It’s good advice, whether you’re milking goats, or taking on any other challenge.