by Krista | Dec 23, 2016 | Summer
Storm clouds are building on the horizon as lusciously cool winds blow through the gum trees. It’s been like this for the last few nights, and Bear and I have luxuriated in it, sitting on our back veranda watching animals and clouds, hoping for rain.
A couple of months ago I found myself in a pickle of my own making. In the glow of excitement at new opportunities, I said yes too much and ended up thoroughly, utterly snowed under, staggering through 17-18 hour works days, 6 days a week. I learned my lesson, and a few more along the way, and once my commitments were completed and I could go back to a normal work day, I implemented the boundaries that will keep me from getting in such a fix again.
I also learned that I have a vital need for a resting place. A spot to step away from everything and just be. Our back veranda became that place. Bear and I spent a couple of days moving furniture and transforming it into a little oasis of comfort and peace. It’s now our favourite space, and Bear knows that if he can’t find me around the house, I’ll be out there, curled up on the couch reading, writing in my journal, or just staring up at the trees.
Another thing I learned is the importance of creating things. I love making things. Really, really love it. Whether I’m doing wood-working with Bear or concocting things in the kitchen, other stresses are easier to bear as long as I have a creative outlet.
So last week I did something I’ve been wanting to do for months: Scandinavian-style pickling.
Growing up, whenever we had Danish food, salads were an essential part of the spread, mounded in glass bowls next to steaming platters of beautifully browned frikadellar (Danish meatballs) or hakkebøf (beef burgers swimming in a fried onion gravy). One of my favorites was agurkesalat, a cucumber salad with a sweet vinegar dressing.
These pickles are similar to that salad but instead of thinly sliced cucumber, I used thinly sliced beetroot (or carrots, parsnips, turnips, etc) quick pickled in a weak sweet and sour vinegar solution spiced with juniper, allspice, peppercorns, and whatever else I think to add such as fennel fronds, fresh dill, cloves, and mustard seeds.
I use a similar solution to make pickled fish, or rollmops, an essential part of the Danish Christmas I grew up with. We always had pickled herring, but they aren’t in season this time of year in Australia, so the fishmonger suggested I try barramundi and a particularly large type of sardine.
While the barramundi could be pickled fresh without any salting, the sardines required being buried in a hill of salt for 15 minutes or so to firm up the flesh. A good rinse afterwards makes it just right for pickling. Although cured fish can be pickled much quicker, I like using fresh fish. Once the fish is covered with the pickling brine and refrigerated, it’s ready for eating in 5-7 days.
It’s been so fun filling my fridge with delicious pickles. Although the hailstorms devastated most of my garden, the bay trees and root vegetables came through just fine, and it’s a great comfort to eat something I grew while I wait for the new seedlings to start producing.
Now it’s time to cozy in with Bear for ice cream and movies as we start this Yule weekend. 🙂
Quick Pickled Beetroot
2-3 chioggia beetroot, washed and trimmed
1 cup vinegar
1 cup water
1/2 cup white sugar
1 tsp salt
6 peppercorns
2 juniper berries
2 fresh bay leaves
2 allspice berries
1 clove
Directions:
- Using mandolin, thinly slice beetroots and pack loosely into clean, sterilized jars. Set aside.
- In medium saucepan combine remaining ingredients and bring to boil over medium high heat, stirring until sugar dissolves.
- Remove from heat and let cool. When cool, pour over beetroot to cover by 1/2 inch, gently tapping jar on counter to release air bubbles.
- Cover and refrigerate 2-3 days until ready to eat.
Pickled Fish
Ingredients:
2 fillets fresh oily fish (herring, sardines, barramundi)
salt
1 cup vinegar
1 cup water
1/2 cup white sugar
1 tsp salt
6 peppercorns
3 juniper berries
1/2 tsp mustard seeds
2 bay leaves
fresh dill or fennel fronds
Directions:
- Cut fish into 1-2 inch pieces (roll if you like) and pack loosely in clean, sterilized jars.
- In medium saucepan combine remaining ingredients and bring to boil over medium high heat, stirring until sugar dissolves.
- Remove from heat and let cool. When cool, pour over fish to cover by 1/2 inch, gently tapping jar on counter to release air bubbles.
- Seal and refrigerate for 1 week.
by Krista | Dec 12, 2016 | Spring
When Bear asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday this year, I didn’t even have to think about it before saying, “I want to make good memories.”
As fun as it is to open pressies, to me it’s more fun to collect experiences with people I love.
Bear, being more practical than my good self, needed something a bit more concrete than “make good memories” – so we fleshed out a few ideas that encapsulate what I treasure most in a good experience: cozy, interesting, delicious, and, most of all, companionable.
We found all of that by booking a little cabin in the woods at Happy Valley Retreat in Stanthorpe, a short walk from one of our favourite places to eat, the Granite Belt Brewery.
I really love Stanthorpe and the Granite Belt area. There’s something about the pine trees and cooler air and boulder strewn bush that make me feel as close to the forests of Canada as I can get here in Australia.
My heart gave a lurch of happiness, a swelling of homey recognition as we pulled in front of our cabin and saw it tucked away among the trees, looking so beautifully welcoming and private.
We crunched our way along gravel paths that wended through stands of twisted gums and weathered pines, swerving around granite boulders that gave the place a feeling of solidity and security, then climbed the creaking wooden stairs past a stack of firewood that made me smile. The notion of a crackling fire was enticing indeed, but with summer just around the corner, it would have to remain a pleasant notion. Something wonderful to be revisited in winter.
The best part was the veranda perched high above the forest floor. Nestled among tree branches, it made me feel like we were in a treehouse. I grabbed some colourful cushions from inside and draped my tablecloth over the little round table and suddenly it really, truly felt like home.
Yes, I bring my own tablecloth with me. It’s a tradition I started many years ago when I was traveling for work. Staying in hotels can be really fun, but after awhile I wanted those little familiar touches that made it feel less sterile and more personal. I found that a tablecloth really did the trick. It was light and small and so easily transformed a blah room to something I wanted to linger in. Even though I travel much less now, it’s a habit I keep up and never regret.
After we got settled in I went for a walk in the bush, luxuriating in having the place to ourselves since it was a weeknight. It was still and peaceful, cloudy and cool thanks to a storm building overhead, and I ambled at my leisure, sitting on boulders to breathe in fresh air, taking pictures of craggy bark and delicate ferns.
Then I returned to the veranda. I poured us glasses of Riesling to toast the day, then we settled back for a beautiful afternoon of naps and reading and basking in the novelty of not having to do anything.
Much to my delight stormy weather rolled in and soon it was downright chilly, perfect weather for woollen blankets and a pashmina around my shoulders as I wrote in my journal, read Harry Potter again, and leafed through the gorgeous holiday issues of Victoria magazine. It felt so good to write and read and think and get inspired without the pull of chores or deadlines.
Then it was time for dinner, and what a dinner it was!! The Granite Belt Brewery feels like an alpine lodge to me, especially decked out for Christmas with garlands and lights and a life-sized carved Santa Claus to greet guests.
We started with champagne and a jolly chat with our regular waiter who always makes us feel welcome. It was too dark for photos that would do justice to the food, so I’ll just have to tell you about it.
Bear was in a steak mood, always a good choice there, while I went for the thing I’d been dreaming about since our first trip to the brewery, the Brewers Platter. It is a 4-course mini degustation matched with their craft beers. I started with Pork Belly with Stanthorpe Apple Vincotta paired with Apple Ale, followed by oh-so-tender New England Venison on Butternut Pumpkin Mash with Blueberries and Juniper Berry Jus paired with Irish Red Ale, then a heavenly Stanthorpe Roasted Beetroot and Goats Cheese Salad paired with Hatter Wheat Beer. I shared my dessert with Bear and we both swooned at the Triple Chocolate Praline Tart with Mascarpone and Raspberry Compote paired with the Pozieres Porter. Such a fun and delicious meal that really made my taste buds sit up and take notice.
It was a beautiful evening of good visits and amazing food, and the cherry on top was walking home to our cabin in the rain. I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday.
The next morning I woke first, and wrapped up in flannels and a blanket before toddling out to the veranda to enjoy a few hours of utter relaxation. When Bear roused a while later we had a light breakfast outside with French press coffee, toasted homemade bread and jam, and local apples. There’s something special about breakfast in the woods, especially when it’s crisp and cool and it feels like the world is a hundred miles away.
All too soon we packed up and headed for home, happy in the glow of truly great memories, excited to do it all again in the winter when we can set that fire roaring.
by Krista | Dec 5, 2016 | Summer
This holiday season I’ve been delighting in the things that other people are doing. I scroll through Facebook and Instagram every day grinning at family pictures and Christmas tree gathering and sledding and baking and the wearing of crazy Christmas sweaters. I flip through magazines swooning at gorgeous trees and mantles dripping with evergreens and berries, sigh contentedly at pictures of snow and icicles, and feel a rumble in the ol’ tummy as I gaze rapturously at piles of truffles, glistening roast turkeys, and pieces of pie mounded high with whipped cream.
This year I simply don’t have it in me to do much, and Bear doesn’t mind one bit, so we’re kicking back, keeping things oh-so-simple, and enjoying the hustle and bustle of those around us.
For those of you following on Facebook, you’ll know this month has been particularly ghastly on our farm with horrendous storms wiping out my gardens, shredding our orchards and vineyard, and killing numerous animals. It has been quite heart-rending to see so much hard work and beloved animals be wiped out in just a few minutes of hail, ferocious wind, and fierce rain.
My hubs, Bear, injured himself badly with a triple-torn hamstring, poor guy, and he’s under strict instructions not to do anything for at least six weeks.
Then I learned that the chronic health issues I’ve been struggling with are due to injuries sustained in the Cult that were not treated properly.
Ugh. It’s been rough. I had to take some time just to feel all the feelings that such a string of difficulties elicits. Grief, rage, frustration, loss, helplessness – all those things we feel when our lack of control in this world is highlighted so glaringly.
And then I bucked up and took heart. There’s not a thing we can do about what has happened, but there’s a lot we can do about what will happen. And that’s pretty marvellous.
Bit by bit I’m repairing the damage done in my gardens. Ruined plants are tossed over the fence to be feasted on by the surviving goats and sheep, stalwart plant survivors are nourished and protected to be given the best chance of coming back, and I picked up a few new seedlings to replace the ones I lost. Soon I’ll start shoveling the drifts of leaves and detritus the wind piled up on my veranda and against the fences, and, when Bear is better, we’ll put the sheds back together that were flattened.
Both Bear and I have fantastic specialists who are helping us. He’s doing so much better already and that makes us very happy. Mine will be a longer road, but that’s OK. It’s a good road, a road fraught with a lot of pain for a while with the tri-weekly treatments, but one that is already showing great promise. I can’t tell you how lovely it is to sleep through the night most nights, to only be in pain after the treatments and not all day, every day, and to see this dear, resilient body start functioning properly and take in nutrients and be resistant to illness. I’m tired but deeply grateful.
Although most of our holiday plans have gone by the wayside, we have done a few things to make it special.
Oma and I have our hams brining with bay, juniper, cloves, and lot of black peppercorns, and soon they’ll be ready for smoking.
Today I bottled (and tasted!) the strawberry liqueur we made last month and it is gorgeous!!! The colour alone makes me happy, but the fragrance and taste make it absolutely divine. It’s too hot for alcohol right now – we’re in a blistering heat wave – so I just add a spoonful of the liqueur to a tall glass of cold soda water and it is delicious and refreshing.
We started a new advent tradition this year. Instead of a calendar, we burn a special Danish advent candle while Bear reads me a chapter from a book. It’s such a lovely way to slow down and connect over a shared story by candlelight.
We don’t have a tree this year, so instead I’ve been hanging decorations from door handles and cupboard knobs and drawer pulls. When the wind whips through there’s quite the festive dance that goes on as every ornament bobs and twirls in the breeze.
The best part is spending time with people we love. We got to see some of our medieval friends last weekend and hope to see more over the next few weeks. We’ll be meeting up with other loves over cuppas and drinks, meals and little adventures here and there.
Yes, it’s a bit of a wonky Merry Christmas, but it’s a jolly good one nonetheless. xo
by Krista | Nov 16, 2016 | Spring
If I had a blanket fort, I would’ve been hiding in it the last couple of weeks, quilts pulled tight around my shoulders, an Only Nice People Allowed sign scrawled in crayon and pinned to the front entrance.
The world has felt shaky and scary for reasons I’m still grappling with, and for a while I needed to hide away and simply let the thoughts and feelings rage and whirl.
I spent a lot of time in my gardens, giving vent to roiling emotions as I dug dirt and yanked weeds and hurled rocks.
I made art, burning images into wood, letting the gentle cadence of the work calm and soothe my ruffled spirits.
I met up with dear friends, letting their big hearts and big love assure me that there is always hope as long as such people exist.
Slowly the anxiety settled, the darkness faded, and I could let the light back in.
I’m thankful for the darkness. As uncomfortable as it is at first, once the initial turmoil quiets, it becomes a peaceful place without distractions where I can clarify my purpose and focus on the things I can do.
I’m equally thankful for the light that illuminates and cheers and reveals a host of kindred spirits in this world, so many beautiful souls trying their best to love and stand with and empower others regardless of political affiliation, faith, gender, or sexual orientation. They inspire me beyond measure.
After so many wobbly days, I’m resting in this beautiful one, grateful for hope and renewed purpose, for enough light to take one more step.
Good night. xo
by Krista | Nov 8, 2016 | Spring
The wind is howling through the trees, sending anything not securely fastened skittering across the farmyard. It’s wreaking havoc on gardens throughout the region, but is doing a first rate job of drying laundry in record time…if you can manage to get it to stay on the line.
It’s been a sick week for me as I battle allergies and a dreadful flu that feels like every joint has a migraine. Thankfully on Saturday I was able to sleep 15 ½ hours, and that made a huge difference. I’m still groggy and sore, but nausea and fever are gone, and I’m able to potter now between rests.
The weekend was a lovely recovery time of naps and reading and sitting on the veranda, letting the wind roar as we slept in and didn’t worry one smidgen about getting up or doing anything.
Sunday morning I woke first and crept out to the kitchen to brew coffee and enjoy the morning sunshine streaming in the kitchen window.
I put Bear’s coffee on his dresser so he could find it when he woke up, then returned to the kitchen to sip my latte and read up on curing fish.
We will be going to the Gold Coast for fresh fish soon, so I wanted to get a head start on planning which recipes to try, and make sure I have all the spices, herbs, and other condiments we will need – dill, juniper berries, peppercorns, etc.
I grew up on salmon, Rainbow trout, and herring, but am an utter novice when it comes to Australian fish. I want to make Danish roll mops for Christmas, Mexican ceviche for these hot spring days, and Norwegian-style smoked fish just because it’s so delicious. I’m excited to learn good Aussie substitutes for the fish I’m familiar with.
When Bear woke up we visited over our coffees then he went to feed the chickens while I wandered out to my gardens for inspiration for breakfast. Green onions, tender asparagus, and a big tomato from our friends (thanks, Sallie and Marshall!) became perfect accompaniment to fresh eggs and our own smoked bacon. I must admit it gave me a big ol’ smile to look down at my cutting board and realize that everything on it was home grown or home made. I know not everyone has access to such things, and my heart swelled with gratitude for this oft crazy life we’ve built that brings us so much happiness.
Today I’m back to work, taking things slow and steady so I can get better soon. Bear is out with the goats while I do photoshoots and wood-burning and make a gigantic batch of mulberry lemonade to keep us hydrated on these dry, windy, and hot spring days. xo
