What we're eating right now :: caramelised garlic tart

It's easy to grow good garlic in Tasmania.  The winter provides plenty of chilly nights resulting in those prized fat purple heads.   Yesterday I sowed next year's garlic crop.  About sixty cloves that should, by Christmas all going well, turn into sixty fat heads of purple garlic.  

 

Although we're not self sufficient in much food wise, roosters and garlic we never have to buy.  We always manage to grow enough to eat for most of the year, along with saving enough cloves to sow for the following season.

It's about this time of year however, when the stored garlic starts to sprout.  The cloves go soft and start to dry out and they don't make very good eating.   I have to regularly pick through the basket and cook up, or sow any that have started to sprout.  We're still on track though to have enough to last until spring, then we can start picking the green flower stalks or scapes that will have grown from the cloves sown this week.

This tart is based on the recipe from Yotam Ottelnghi's book Plenty. I've edited it slightly in the spirit of thriftiness, and using three whole heads of garlic, it's a delicious way to use up those sprouting cloves.

Caramelised Garlic Tart

1 sheet of puff pastry - although I made my own rough puff based on this recipe

3 whole heads of garlic, cloves separated and peeled

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 tablespoons balsamic

1 teaspoon brown sugar

1/2 cup of water

100g goats cheese

2 eggs

1/2 cup creme fraiche

1/2 cup of pure cream

A few sprigs of thyme

Line a 20cm loose bottom tart tin with puff pastry and blind bake in a moderate oven for 10-15 minutes or until pastry is golden.  Remove from oven and set aside, but leave the oven on.

Meanwhile, put the cloves in a small saucepan and cover with plenty of water.  Bring to a boil and blanch the garlic cloves for about 3 minutes, then drain and dry off cloves. Dry the saucepan and pop the cloves back in with the olive oil and heat over medium heat for a few minutes until garlic starts to colour.

Add balsamic and water, increase heat to high then once boiling, reduce to a simmer.  Cook at a gentle simmer for around 10 - 15 minutes, then add thyme, sugar and a pinch of salt and continue to simmer until most of the liquid has evaporated and the cloves are coated in a thick syrup.  Remove from heat and allow to cool a little.

To assemble the tart, crumble goats cheese evenly over the base of the tart shell. Then spoon cloves and syrup over the cheese.

Make a custard by beating the eggs, creme fraiche and cream together adding a little salt and pepper in a small jug and pour over tart filling, making sure the custard fills in any gaps.  You still want to see garlic and cheese poking up through the custard.

Bake tart in the oven for about 35 - 40 minutes or until top is golden and custard is firm.

Allow to cool a little, and serve warm.

A weekend in the kitchen

 

Always nice to have a clean kitchen.  With floors scrubbed and benches cleared away, it's worth taking a photo or two.   Although, it didn't look like this for very long.  Because yesterday we worked on a photo shoot in the kitchen, and as you can see, it gets rather untidy during the process. 

But working from home is always great, (I will show you the results when they're published in a few months) there is so much to learn, with the added bonus of a fridge filled with delicious things to eat.  

Today the kitchen is back to normal, a bit messy and cluttered, but at least I can spend some time in the garden, instead of cooking dinner.  

With a break for afternoon tea of course. 

Autumn's last gasp

It looks so dramatic.  The valley at this time of year.   Mist settles on the hills, a few golden leaves cling stubbornly to the deciduous trees and the sun never seems to shine. The whiff of smokey bonfires linger in the air.  Cold, wet and gothic.

Unwanted apples sit forlornly on the trees, and little birds feast on the forgotten fruit. Or they'll fall to the ground where worms and bugs will finish them off. Shrivelled blackberries are dotted along the brambles and stick to my tights as I scramble along the hedge.   And bright red rose hips look so pretty glistening in the fading autumn light.

Autumn's last gasp.

Red and green

Today is another tomato story. The last for the season I should think. This morning, after a quick ride on my gorgeous new Mothers' Day present, we packed a picnic and headed to the coast. Our destination :: the gorgeous blueberry farm where our tomato patch was planted all those months ago. Our mission :: pick all the remaining green tomatoes.  

Despite ambitions dreams, it wasn't a great crop this year, they got off to a slow start, and there wasn't nearly enough tomatoes to preserve. We kept hoping they would ripen, but today we called it, time to call it a day for those tomato plants.  

First though, a delicious picnic that included rooster salad and rhubarb cake, sitting under the vibrant deep red blueberry bushes.  Then we stripped the sad scraggly tomato plants and filled lots of buckets, about 20 kilos was the end tally, if only they were red!  Work finished, we headed to the little beach across the road to enjoy the lingering late autumn sun.

We'll lay those hard green tomatoes out in a warm sunny spot and hope they will continue to ripen, those that don't will make green tomato jam or green tomato pickle. 

Still a little work to do, so I guess it's not really the end of the tomato story at all.

What we're eating right now...

Over the years I've realised that some vegetables grow really well in my garden, and others, not so much.  I'm not sure why, perhaps it's the soil, the amount of sunlight, the axis of the moon, or maybe a combination of a lot of things.   Brassicas, garlic, rhubarb and kale all seem to thrive, but I've never managed to grow carrots very well.  And English spinach, whether seed or seedling, it doesn't like it here at all. Despite many attempts, year after year.  Which is a shame because it's a favourite.

Now beetroot, thankfully is on the winning side.  That I can grow.  Which is a good thing because it's also one of my favourite vegetables.   This time of year we have a great crop growing and the green tops take over where spinach fails and the roots are roasted and turned into salads or a spicy dip. 

But I reckon the best way to eat them is this roasted beetroot soup.  This is a super easy recipe, eaten hot unlike it's Eastern European cousin borscht.  We serve this with a perfectly soft boiled egg, a fair dollop of yoghurt or sometimes crumbled goats cheese.  Then finished with some snipped chives from the garden.  I would use dill but sadly, that's on the "does not grow well" list too. 

Roasted Beetroot Soup

5 or 6 whole beetroot

1 or 2 onions or leeks diced

2 cloves of garlic chopped

1 litre or so of vegetable stock or water

Apple cider vinegar to taste

To serve 

4 soft boiled eggs, peeled

chives or dill or both 

yoghurt or creme fraiche 

Wash the beets and leaving them whole, place in a baking dish then drizzle them with olive oil and salt. Cover the dish tightly with foil and roast in 180 degree oven until tender.   (You could do this when you're using the oven to cook something else, then store the beets in the fridge until you're ready to make soup)

When tender, allow to cool then rub off beet skins with your fingers. (You might like to use gloves because the beets do stain your fingers.)  Dice beets then set aside.

Meanwhile in a saucepan big enough for soup, melt a generous knob of butter over a medium heat and sautee onion for a few minutes until soft then add garlic stir through.  Toss in the beets then add the stock.  Bring to a boil then reduce heat to a simmer and cook for five minutes.   Then remove from heat and blend until super smooth with a stick blender. Taste for seasoning, adding a little splash of vinegar and salt and pepper. 

Ladle soup into bowls, break a boiled egg in half and add to the bowl, and a generous dollop of yoghurt and then the herbs.  

I thought I might start sharing a few recipes based on what's growing in the garden.  What we're eating right now. This is the first one. 

Celebrating seven

This week my baby turned seven. Oh my.   We celebrated Hugo style, by pitching a tent in the backyard and inviting a few friends over for a boys own adventure party.

There was a bonfire to cook twist stick bread, hot dogs, a campfire cake and plenty of wrestling in the tent. The boys were given little swagman bundles filled with a torch, first aid kit, magnifying glass along with a little chocolate for nourishment should those adventurers need an energy boost.  Activities included a hike through the bush, a game of soccer and quite a lot of drawing.  Both with pencils and of glow in the dark swords.

I always feel a little wistful when my children celebrate a birthday, as I remember those little babies and see how quickly they are growing up.    But any feelings of sorrow are quickly forgotten when watching the joy and enthusiasm of one not-so-small boy.

Happy birthday Hugo!

From the hedgerow

I've written before about Tasmania's lovely hedgerows, and in autumn there's always lots to forage.  You'll probably find blackberries, maybe some rose hips, and if you're very lucky, you might find some sloes or damsons.

The one thing you always will find is hawthorn, and at this time of year they are loaded with little red haw berries or haws. The reason they're so plentiful is not only do the bushes have huge thorns, but the haws taste bloody awful. A bitter red skin with a skerrick of white mealy flesh and a rather large pip - which I've read contains arsenic.

I thought there must be some use for this prolific little berry.  I'd heard of people making cordial and jelly out of it, but most people grimace when they mention the flavour.  A little googling revealed that the berry is used in Chinese medicine for heart conditions, and indeed, I had heard stories of the cordial being good for heart palpitations and even of a bloke who avoided a triple by-bass by dosing up on his own hawthorn tonic.

While all this information was interesting, I was kind of hoping to make something a little more useful and appealing to my family, when I stumbled on a recipe for haw-sin sauce, a foragers' take on that chinese condiment hoisin sauce.  Now that was a recipe worth trying.

It's remarkable what a little vinegar and sugar can do.  I can report the result is totally delicious! For not much effort and very little cost, I have four lovely jars of plum coloured haw-sin sauce, it needs a little time to mellow, just a couple of weeks, but already I love the flavour and it will only improve with age.   Next time I might add more spices like star anise and maybe a little chilli.

From a few hours picking in the autumn sun, those picturesque hedgerows have provided damson jam for our toast, haw-sin sauce for our bangers and sloes for our gin.  Next on the list is some rose hip jam to finish off the season.  It may have not been a bountiful harvest this summer in the garden, but thanks to a little foraging, those winter stores aren't looking too bad at all.

Haw-sin sauce 

Here's the recipe I used, based on one by HFW.

500g haw berries

250 ml cider vinegar

250 ml water

250g caster sugar

Salt and ground black pepper

Wash and de-stalk berries, (I really didn't go to too much trouble to remove the stalks because I put them through a sieve later.)

Place in a large pan with vinegar and water and bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer until berries are very soft and starting to burst.

Put through a mouli or sieve to remove skins, seeds and those stalks you didn't manage to remove earlier.

Return the sieved mixture to a clean pan then add sugar and gently heat until sugar is dissolved, giving it the odd stir.  Bring to a boil and continue to boil until mixture starts to thicken. Season to taste and pour into sterilised bottles or jars.

Allow haw-sin to mellow for a couple of weeks before cracking a bottle. I reckon this would be delicious anywhere you'd use tomato sauce or relish.

God save the queen

A few weeks ago I checked the honey bees, hopeful that despite that swarm in early spring, perhaps there may be enough honey stores for us to steal.  Alas, not only was there no extra honey, there was hardly any honey at all.

More than disappointing, this was of great concern.  Having no idea of the cause, I called in the bee doctor.  What he found was not good news.  Seems the new queen is sickly and not keeping up with her royal duties, that is to maintain the brood numbers.  The result? A hive with a reduced work force, leaving it vulnerable to attack.

And under attack it was. The bee doctor pointed out bees trying to access to the beehive through cracks and vents and not the hive entrance, a sign they were strangers and not from around these parts. Those bees were also a different colour. They were robbers attacking the beehive! Wild bees stealing our honey stores!

I'm afraid the remedy is not good for the queen.  She needs to be replaced with a new Her Maj on the throne.  We will also get a second hive, and this colony can share babies to build up the workforce numbers quickly, so as to able to defend the hive from those pesky wild bees.

Being such a novice when it comes to beekeeping, and still a little nervous when poking around the hive myself, it was so fascinating to watch an expert apiarist at work, the things he noticed and how quickly he identified the problem.    I felt a bit guilty not checking up on the hive more regularly.

I feel sad for the bees under attack. And sad for the queen. She did her best, but she's about to be overthrown.  Poor queen bee.

This and that

1. Autumn heralds a time for a big swap around of very heavy furniture...
2. Picking boxes of quinces from a friend's huge old tree...
3. Pot roasted those quinces, to be baked into tarts, stirred through porridge and served on the side with cake...
4. Evening campfire dinners with twist stick bread...
5. A VERY rustic but tasty nectarine jam tart...

What's been going on in your world?

Easter adventure

The wind howled, the rain poured and the trees roared all night long.  It was wet and wild and windy and I didn't sleep a wink.  But I still loved every moment of our riverside Easter camping trip.

Despite the less than ideal weather, there was plenty to keep spirits high.  Adventures by the river, fishing, building little boats with bark, chocolate, coffee, campfires and plenty of good things to eat. Like chipolatas, Pigeon Whole bread and Jacinta's baked beans for dinner.

But breakfast was the best.  I think I actually only go camping to eat egg and bacon rolls and drink coffee in the morning around the campfire.

Fingers crossed we can get one more camping trip before it gets too cold.

Hope you had an eggcellent Easter Break too.