I can feel it in the morning crispness when I crawl out of my warm bed and have to pull a robe or sweater over my shoulders.
I see it in the kitchen windows that stay closed until well after the sun has risen.
And I taste it in endless cups of chai tea and creamy coffee that are what I’m craving most as I labor over the heaps of writing projects I’m tackling this week.
I’m loving every minute of it.
It makes me long for lazy afternoons of unhindered reading and quiet rambles through the Irish countryside.
It’s a quiet sick day at home. Animals are snoozing happily in the shade and I’m cozy on the couch, tending my feverish, achy self with guava juice and noodle soup and comforting mugs of creamy chai tea.
My friend Jack makes the best chai tea I’ve ever had. He makes it when our group of friends goes camping, and it tastes absolutely heavenly made in a little cast iron pot over the campfire.
For my own chai tea recipe I add star anise and fresh ginger to the usual spice mixture of cinnamon, allspice, cardamom, and cloves. Some people like whole peppercorns as well, but I don’t fancy it. And today I’m using whole leaf green tea instead of the usual black to boost the antioxidant and anti-inflammatory benefits.
A batch is simmering on the burner right now. It’s such a comforting aroma and all those spices have such wonderful healing properties that it’s a lovely drink for someone feeling rather dreadful.
During these quiet moments I’m taking time to read good things, like this snippet from Susannah Conway’s recent 40th birthday post sharing things she’s learned in her first forty years:
“I believe that by being the best and most healed version of ourselves we can truly make a difference in the world. I’m not an activist or politician, and I’m not able to have any direct impact on the areas of the world where help is needed. But what I can do is make a difference in the small pocket of the world I call home. I can live with integrity and be honest about my feelings, even when they hurt. I can put my whole heart into my work and pay forward the generosity that was shown to me when my world fell apart. I can look after myself, knowing that by healing my own hurts I won’t be passing them on to anyone else. In a society like ours, filled with so many emotionally wounded people acting out their pain, this is possibly the most important work we could ever do— heal our hurts so we don’t pass them on.”
I love that so much. And this gorgeous piece from Rainer Maria Rilke:
“I beg you… to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms of books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer…”
Now it’s time to add the tea to my simmering pot of spices.
Wishing you a beautiful, cozy weekend filled with good, quiet moments and things that nourish your soul.
xo
Chai Green Tea Recipe
Ingredients:
1 cinnamon stick 1 teaspoon whole cloves 4-6 green cardamom pods, crushed 10 allspice berries 3 slices fresh ginger 2 pieces of star anise 4 cups water 1 tbsp loose leaf green tea (or more if you like it strong) whole milk and raw sugar or honey, to taste
Directions:
Add spices and water to medium-size pan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat.
Simmer, covered for 15 minutes.
Add loose leaf tea, remove from heat, and steep 3-4 minutes until it reachs your preferred strength.
Strain into a large, favorite cup, add sugar/honey and milk to taste.
There’s something about bicycles that makes me happy. To me they are reminders of carefree days pedaling along bumpy gravel roads on the Alberta prairies as a child and equally bumpy cobbled roads cruising through Amsterdam as an adult.
I’ve never cycled through Paris though, for I’m afraid I’d crash into something whilst craning my neck to look at some gorgeous building or enticing cafe.
I love the parks of Paris with their wide, white pathways perfect for ambling and glossy green benches perfect for sitting.
This park was the site my friend Amy and I chose for a break one sunny Autumn afternoon after purchasing a box full of tarts and pastries at a nearby patisserie.
Paris cafes always, always make me smile, especially when there’s an empty table on the sidewalk just waiting for me and a dear friend to sit at and talk for ages over cups of strong coffee and plates of cheese-filled crepes or crispy roast chicken.
I like the statues placed around Paris, and always wonder who made them and who the model was and what the story is behind them. I especially liked this one providing shelter to a cheeky bird on a windy day.
And I always sigh thinking about a Paris apartment. Looking up at the embellishments on the walls and the balconies near the top provide fodder for some very happy daydreaming.
I’d love to rent a top floor one someday, and have dinner parties on the roof-top terrace on warm Autumn evenings.
I’ve also been thinking of Paris because I’m on a brioche-making-kick.
Last time I told you about the brioche studded with dark chocolate, and today I’ll share a photo of my latest attempt: brioche with chunks of dark chocolate covered marzipan.
Oh my. I had it for breakfast this morning and felt well and truly spoiled. I think I added too much marzipan (is there such a thing?), for the top of the loaf emerged with some rather large marzipan-filled crevices, but I’m not complaining. It may look a bit wonky, but it tastes like a little slice of heaven.
This weekend was one of those cozy, happy, putter-at-home sort of times. A comfy clothes, pony-tail, barefoot weekend.
I read good books and sipped creamy espresso laced with raw sugar and a dash of vanilla.
I drank red wine at night and watched good belly-laugh movies with Bear.
And I did a whole lot of baking while working my way through my annual tradition of listening to the entire Harry Potter series on CD.
I loved it.
My bread machine is one of my very favorite kitchen appliances. I know some folks feel that the only real bread is the bread made exclusively by hand, but I’m not one of them. In my book, anything that helps me get scrumptious, healthy food on the table when I’m tired, sick, or just plain stressed, is a good, good thing.
I used my bread machine to do all the finicky bits – mixing, kneading, doing the first rising – then I do the rest on my flour-dusted counter: kneading, shaping and popping the dough into a pan. It’s a very happy relationship.
I’ve been making bread since I was a girl, but for some reason I’ve never made brioche. Thankfully that changed this weekend.
I think bread is amazing. You can make so many different styles, textures and tastes with the same basic ingredients.
With nearly every loaf of yeast-risen bread, you must have flour, a liquid (water, milk, coconut milk, juice, broth), salt, yeast, a fat of some kind (Oil, butter, margarine, lard, coconut solids) and a bit of sugar to get the yeast fermenting once it hits the liquid. Most bread recipes are a variation on these components, and once you’ve got the basic formula down, you can let your imagination run wild creating your own bread recipes.
For brioche you use a higher quantity of fat (butter) to a lower quantity of flour (2 cups instead of the standard 3-4 cups for a large loaf), resulting in bread that is light, airy, and absolutely delicious.
I like my brioche with chunks of dark chocolate and a hint of nutmeg, but you can also add dried fruit (currants, sultanas, apricots, etc) or even nuts. Just make sure you wait to add them until just before you put the bread in the pan to bake. That way you know all the bready bits have been mixed properly.
I like eating my brioche while still warm cut in thick slices and spread with salted butter. With the remainder I toast it for breakfast, turn it into French Toast for brunch, or cut it into chunks for a rather fabulous bread pudding.
What is your favorite kind of bread?
Bread Machine Brioche with Dark Chocolate Chunks
Ingredients:
3 large eggs (I used duck eggs, but chicken eggs will be fine) 1/3 cup butter, melted 1/2 tsp sea salt 1-2 tsp vanilla 1/4 tsp ground nutmeg 2 cups white flour 2 Tbsp white sugar 1 tsp fast-action dry yeast 1 bar (or more!) good quality dark chocolate, cut into 1/2 inch chunks
Directions:
Pour first five ingredients into pan of bread machine. Top with flour, sugar, then yeast. Close lid, choose the dough setting, and press start.
Take a nap, read a book, or work on another project until the last beeper sounds.
Remove dough from bread pan and place on well-floured surface.
Preheat oven to 200 C (350 F).
Press dough into a rough circle and pour dark chocolate chunks on top.
Knead well until chocolate chunks are well-dispersed.
Butter a cast iron pot, brioche pan, or bread pan and place dough inside.
Bake 25-30 minutes until brioche is golden brown and sounds hollow when you tap the top.
The rains have stopped, the winds have stilled and at last we have a moment of calm here in Queensland. A moment when you finally have time to sit down, catch your breath and let your body collect itself.
There have been rather fierce personal storms to go with the floods and gale-force winds we’ve experienced this week. I’m feeling a bit battered and very, very thankful to have some quiet time this weekend to rest and restore.
The cafe where I often go to work has a special on fresh-squeezed juices today, so I’m treating myself to Strawberry Mint. It tastes like summer and makes me smile.
Last night after the chores were done, I had a happy wander around our muddy but not so floody farm. After so many dark days of pelting rains and wild winds it was pure bliss to sit on a log and look out over sun-drenched fields and sun-dappled waters.
I loved this perky little feather glowing in the setting sun, looking so light and free.
This weekend is a happy one:
visits and chips & gravy with good friends who finally navigated their way home through the floods from Northern Queensland.
time to curl up on the couch and read incredible books (Once, Then and After by Morris Gleitzman)
This afternoon I experimented with a Dark Chocolate-Studded Brioche baked in a cast iron pot and it turned out beautifully!! I hope to share it with you in the next day or two.
In the meantime, I’m wishing you a beautiful weekend filled with things and people who make your heart happy. Is there anything your particularly looking forward to?
It has been a crazy week dealing with the deluge and aftermath of the 2013 Queensland flood.
Today we were finally able to get into town, rumbling slowly over roads with the pavement washed away, gazing in amazement at once green fields coated with thick black mud and debris.
Our little village of Allora was nearly surrounded by raging torrents and fields turned into lakes. On the outskirts, water was encroaching ever closer, submerging roads and yards.
On Monday afternoon we decided to brave the roads and incessant rain to see what we could see.
My jaw dropped as we crested the hill and saw that the normally velvety green Allora golf course had become a massive lake.
It was a strange sense of deja vu for me. My first trip to Australia in January 2011 found me driving up this hill only ten minutes before the 2011 Queensland flood left us stranded for five days.
We drove outside of town, stunned by the paddocks and fences and trees under water rushing so deep and fast it was only inches from swamping the bridge.
You can’t tell in this picture, but the water was rushing down the street like a river and I stayed well away from the edge. While the depth of water is damaging, it is the speed of the current that is truly dangerous, easily knocking you off your feet.
Our village park was downright scary with flood waters hurtling past covering playground equipment and turning the roadway into a plunging waterfall.
I was able to get close enough to take this video of the river rushing through the trees.
We stopped by the local market to pick up some essentials but were unable to get milk for they were all sold out. By this morning locals were lined up outside the market, cleaning out the produce shelves.
Before I experienced a flood I thought everything would be OK once the waters went down. I know better now. Trucks carrying food and dairy can’t get through because roads are absolutely destroyed, bridges washed out. The food distribution centers themselves are often submerged. Going to the grocery store today there were mighty slim pickings in the fresh food aisle.
My friend in Brisbane is having an entirely different experience. Since the power was knocked out in her neighborhood, their market had to post security guards and only allow 12 people in at a time. The line of people waiting to go in was massive.We’re hearing of water shortages and horrible flooding and I’m so grateful that my friends in Brisbane and Bundaberg are OK.
I’m also thankful for my garden that is producing heaps of kale, beans, tomatoes and silverbeet, so we’ll be fine until produce is readily available again. And after all that rainfall, our water tanks are full and we have no shortage of water.
Our farm, Citadel Kalahari, turned into a watery swamp, but I admit that I quite like all the little waterfalls and creeks and ponds. Although walking anywhere is rather precarious what with slipping through lashings of mud, it really is quite beautiful.
There are so many people in Queensland and New South Wales who have lost so much in these terrible floods. If you are able and interested in helping them rebuild, please donate through this link: Australian Red Cross.
It makes me long for lazy afternoons of unhindered reading and quiet rambles through the Irish countryside.
