My One Ten...

 

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"It will cost you an old Defender 110. That's the payoff. " I said half joking, half serious.

But really, when your husband wants to set up an oil refinery in the garden, one does have quite a bit of room for negotiation.

Biodiesel:: A fuel that is similar to diesel fuel and is derived from usually vegetable sources, according to the Webster.  And that, dear reader is the project that my husband is embarking on, and an admirable one it is to.  Converting used chip oil into fuel that will run our cars.  I'm all for it.  Considering he clocks up over 400 kilometres in a week traveling to work, petrol is a major household expense for us.  Estimates for biodiesel average out at about 30 cents a litre. That's a huge saving in anyone's language.

And I love the fact that you can turn a waste product into something useful, even if the smell of fish and chips does fire out your exhaust as you zoom past.

But of course, the downside is the slightly unattractive oil refinery sitting in your garden, large drums of goodness knows what, filters, sacks of chemicals and worst of all, piles of 20 litres drums of used chip oil.  We're talking the kind of yard that you speed past and don't make eye contact should you inadvertently stumble across it on a Sunday drive through the countryside.  Country Style won't be knocking on our door again anytime soon.

But, if it means that the car of my dreams in within grasp, then I'm ready to embrace the junkyard look.  The Land Rover Defender 110.  I realised this was the car for me whilst admiring Helen Mirren, playing the part of Queen Elizabeth, break an axle whilst driving across a stream at Balmoral.  But really, I think my love of the Landy stems from a childhood spent watching Daktari and Born Free, (which some may already note is a source of inspiration).

The mister grumbles as he pulls out the remains of straw bales embedded in my current car's upholstery.  Perhaps he can see there is some merit in an old knockabout Landy, given the treatment our current car gets carting straw, animal feed, mulch and muddy children.  I won't let the realities of expensive to buy, expensive to run and expensive to fix ruin my fun. Although it will be ages before we even start looking, we're trialling the biodiesel project for six months on one car first, at least it's on the cards.

In the meantime, I'll join up here and dream of piling the Landy with children, dogs, blankets and a thermos as we head off for country adventures.  My hand out the window, I will practice the royal wave as I drive past, leaving a plume of smelly fish and chip smoke in my wake.

A gift in the dark

The knock on the back door gave us a fright. We don't generally get visitors in the country, you know, especially at dinner time, in the dark, on a week night.

But it was only B our neighbour, delivering several kilos of freshly caught tuna that a work colleague had given him.  Living in household of non fish eaters, B knew we'd love it.  What a generous gift!

My first instinct was to chuck it in the deep freeze, to be lost in the midst of time, forgotten along with the pig heads and pet mince that lurk in the bottom of the chest freezer (that has been mistakenly used in bolognese by the way. Not good).

Luckily B delivered it during the rush hour so I had a few hours to think about what to do with it before entombing it to an icy grave. Preserving it!  Brilliant!   Did you see that episode of Gourmet Farmer when they caught that tuna and preserved it on the beach?  How awesome was that?  I had a plan!

I must tell you that I love canned tuna, but I don't eat it anymore. Sigh. I used to love Sirena, not only for the taste but for that little lovely mermaid on the lid.  For a couple of years now I've realised that sadly it's not sustainable, so it's been off the menu.  There are other more sustainable brands available, I know, but to me they have the texture of cat food and not those lovely chunks like Sirena, so I don't eat them.  I was excited at the prospect of making my own.

It's dead easy.  I had a peak at Matthew's recipe on the SBS site, and I also found a recipe, on a blog called Calabria From Scratch *, which I liked because you cut the tuna into thick slices and seemed slightly more manageable.  I kind of crossed the two together, Matthew's extra care with preserving and avoiding botulism using the aesthetic of the Calabrian recipe.

Simply boil the tuna in salted water for two hours, drain, then pack into jars, cover with olive oil and boil the sealed jars for two hours.   Et voila! The Calabrians leave theirs in the pantry for one month before tucking in, and some say to leave it for six months. I'm not sure I can wait one week.

Now we have guilt free tuna to last for a while, and enough jars for gifts and plenty to share with B.  I may deliver them next door at night, and return the favour of a gift in the dark.

PS Sarah Wilson has this great post about what tuna you can eat.

* The link doesn't seem to be working at the moment, but hopefully it's temporary and will be back.

The Ponds

After a little instagram inspiration from Paulette, yesterday we hit the road and headed north to the Derwent Valley to visit the Salmon Ponds at Plenty.  I love the Derwent Valley, it seems somehow more Georgian than the Huon, with its mid 19th century farmhouses and lovingly restored oast houses dotted among the rolling green hills.

Arriving at the Salmon Ponds, I couldn't help but fall in love with the old hatchery buildings and the impressive gardens.  Hawthorn hedges surround expansive grassed areas that showcase a large collection of historic trees.  The Salmon Ponds were established around 1864, and the garden planted with an enviable collection of exotic trees, some still standing 150 years later.

Feeding fish, a picnic lunch, and a walk along the river bank for a peek into the original Walden inspired fishing cabin, arranged as if the angler had only ducked out moments ago, kept us busy for hours.  Then it was into the museum in an old cottage, that left both me and the children wanting to move right in.  The peeps so they could climb the trees every day and I fancied taking over the cafe and serving afternoon teas.  At the very least I came away wondering where I could put a hawthorn hedge at home, and realised that the chestnut tree I planted doesn't have nearly enough room to grow into the fine specimen we admired.

Sigh. It's good to know that despite being an instagram addict, it can inspire me to get outdoors and fuel our dreams.

Queens birthday weekending

A long weekend spent at one's castle.
:: Still picking tomatoes from our garden, very strange winter.
:: Saw a beautiful rare grey goshawk, after it killed one of our Good Friday chicks. Poor little thing.
:: Lots of tidying in the winter garden.
:: Bloomin' salvias and potato vines keeping the bees fed and happy.
:: Mama counted her cumquats.
:: Peeps counted out their gems

I do hope one is having an absolutely topping Queens Birthday weekend.

Speckled bread

The last two weeks have whizzed by in a blur of cold wet weather, school holidays and peeps laid low with a nasty chest cold.  That said, highlights of the past fortnight include dinner with Kylie Kwong, two days styling a photo shoot for Feast magazine, and my kitchen featured on one of my favourite blogs Bleubird Vintage. All good!

This enforced time indoors was meant there's been a lot of cooking on the still to be named cooker.  Some results triumphant, and a couple of less than successful efforts.  The later a result of spending too long at the local pub with a friend for some much needed mama time out - oops!

Funny enough, this weather has seen an awful lot of Welsh cookery appearing on the menu. Mainly because these recipes are so fast and easy...they must be a busy lot those Welsh folk.  Think Welsh rarebit, because I'm always running late for dinner and it sounds much posher than grilled cheese on toast. Welsh cakes because they're quick and cooked in a frypan on the stove, rather than having to wait for the oven to heat up. And my favourite, bara brith, meaning speckled bread in Welsh.   This has to be the easiest cakie/bread type recipe you can make.

I use a recipe from Matthew Evans' book The Real Food Companion.   Not only is it a doddle to make, but Matthew's inspired addition of marmalade gives the bread a bitter edge that I find irresistible.  Matthew is happy for me to share his recipe.

Bara Brith

Ingredients
500g mixed dried fruit such as sultanas, golden raisins and currants
100g sugar
300ml hot black tea, strained
500g self raising flour, sifted
2 tablespoons marmalade
2 teaspoons mixed spice
1 egg, beaten
1-2 tablespoons honey, warmed to glaze

Method
Mix the dried fruit and sugar together in a bowl and pour the still hot tea over the fruit. Stand until the fruit is swolllen. Leave overnight if you can ( I'm never that organised!) or warm it in a saucepan to help speed up the process. There should be still be some liquid when you go to make the bread.

Preheat the oven to 170C.  Grease a 20 x 12 x 11 cm loaf tin and line the base and sides with baking paper.

Put the tea soaked fruit in a big bowl, stir in the flour, marmalade and mixed spice and then the egg until well combined (I sometimes add a little milk here if it's too dry or stiff).  Spoon the mixture into the prepared tin, pressing to avoid air bubbles and to even out the top.  Bake for about 1 hour and 15 minutes, or until a skewer comes out clean. Brush the top with the warmed honey just as it comes from the oven.

Allow the loaf to cool in the tin for a few minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack to cool completely. Bara brith keeps well, stored in an airtight container for up to 1 week.

Cut into slices, spread thickly with soft butter and served with tea, bara brith hits the spot after an afternoon spent in the cold wet garden. Which is where you can usually find this mama pottering until it's too late for anything but grilled cheese on toast for dinner. Again.