A Danish Australian Boxing Day

A Danish Australian Boxing Day

Bear and I started the holidays with a simple plan: rest, eat well, only do happy things. We didn’t go anywhere, we didn’t do anything, and we loved it. It was definitely the most relaxing holiday I’ve ever had with long sleeps, movie marathons, and many hours of veranda-sitting with time to read, write, or just sit.

On Boxing Day we emerged from our cocoon of delectable laziness to visit our Viking friends, Paula and Nikolaj. They lured us out with promises of risalamande med kirsebærsauce – almond rice with cherry sauce – a Danish Christmas tradition I simply cannot resist.

I packed up goodies too – our very own prosciutto and pickled carrots, and an array of homemade liqueurs for a festive taste-testing. If there’s one thing Vikings are good at, it’s helping their friends imbibe whatever bottles of boozy goodness might be laying about.

Being the sensible people we are, we decided to begin the occasion with wine and dessert. With a chink of glasses our Boxing Day celebration was underway.

wine glasses and christmas tree

Risalamande has been part of my family’s Christmas for as long as I can remember. It is nothing like the rice pudding many are familiar with. There’s nothing porridge-y about it. Rather it is rice cooked in milk and vanilla before being cooled and mixed with ground or chopped almonds and lavish mounds of whipped cream. On Christmas Eve the risalamande is served with one whole almond hidden somewhere. Whoever finds it receives the Almond Present, usually a marzipan pig, but sometimes a puzzle or game or big bar of chocolate.

In my family risalamande was served with a lusciously creamy caramel sauce, but many of my Danish relatives swear that cherry sauce is the only way to go. When I heard that Nikolaj and Paula served theirs with cherry sauce, I was really excited to try it.

It was delicious! Totally different from the dessert of my childhood, but every bit as scrumptious.

Danish rice alamande and cherry sauce

After polishing off our dessert, we tucked into the proper food, piling our plates with cheeses and crackers, fresh bread spread with pesto and hummus, wafer-thin slices of prosciutto, grapes, veggies, and pickled red cabbage (with juniper, bay, and cloves) and carrots (with cumin seeds and black peppercorns).

jar of pickled carrots

We lingered long, turning a visit and snack into hours of grazing and good talks as we shared stories and swapped medieval tales and discussed our plans for the coming year.

smorgasbord plate

All too soon the sun began to set and it was time to head home. We parted with hugs and promises to get together at our farm in the new year for some fun projects. It’s going to be a great year. xo

In A Bit of A Pickle

In A Bit of A Pickle

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.

pickled beetroot

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.

beetroot in jar

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.

filleting sardines

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.

pickled sardines

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.

bay leaf for pickling

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:

  1. Using mandolin, thinly slice beetroots and pack loosely into clean, sterilized jars. Set aside.
  2. In medium saucepan combine remaining ingredients and bring to boil over medium high heat, stirring until sugar dissolves.
  3. 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.
  4. 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:

  1.  Cut fish into 1-2 inch pieces (roll if you like) and pack loosely in clean, sterilized jars.
  2. In medium saucepan combine remaining ingredients and bring to boil over medium high heat, stirring until sugar dissolves.
  3. 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.
  4. Seal and refrigerate for 1 week.
A Merry Wonky Christmas

A Merry Wonky Christmas

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.

wooden santa

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.

homemade strawberry liqueur

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.

Danish advent candle

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.

ornaments on old woodThe 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

Respite at Wivenhoe Pocket

Respite at Wivenhoe Pocket

I like a lot of things about my Bear, but one of my favorites is his ability to turn mundane chores into memorable adventures. Today he transformed a car appointment into the loveliest day out, and it was just what I needed after an exhausting week.

He started by pulling into our favorite cafe in a nearby city and treating us to brunch. We had toasted sandwiches and shared a sumptuously creamy chicken, avocado, and sun-dried tomato salad. A surprise brunch just wouldn’t be right without coffees and dessert, so we indulged in our usual drinks – long black for him, flat white for me – and pieces of opera cake, heavenly layers of wafer thin almond sponge, coffee syrup, coffee butter cream, and a dark chocolate glaze. Bliss.

Then we hopped in the car and he took us for a drive.

It was a gorgeous day for a drive, blazing hot and sunny with brilliant blue skies, just the sort of day you want to enjoy from the comfort of an air-conditioned car.

We had a cuppa with our good friend and blacksmith at his country home in Wivenhoe Pocket – isn’t that the best name? – and talked about swords and motorcycles and plants and goats and home renovations, all the lovely mundane things that are interesting when shared with comfy friends.

Then we drove down to a spot by the Brisbane River that we’d noticed on our drive in.

Brisbane River

It is such a beautiful spot with crystal clear water and lovely old trees along the riverbank.

Families fished along the shore while others kept cool under a shelter with a cold beer in hand. Teenagers too hot to care about going home for swimming togs, swam happily in their underwear, luxuriating in cool river water against their sunburned skin.

Brisbane River bottom

I wandered along the rocky shore and over the bridge, watching vivid green weeds bobbing serenely with the current, loving the twisted gum trees casting shadows over shallow pools.

Rivers have a beautiful mesmerizing quality that lulls and soothes as the water flows steadily, pouring over rocks and twirling around fence posts and tree branches. I find it utterly relaxing to watch the water, listening to it gurgle and sigh.

Brisbane River bank

Back in the car Bear and I grinned at each other, basking in the novelty of sitting and just enjoying our surroundings.

There’s not much better than a hot, sunny afternoon by the water to restore weary spirits.

The Brisbane River

Then we headed for home, Bear taking every back road he could find to give us new surroundings to look at. We meandered past acres of lush farmland and stopped at vegetable stalls in search of Roma tomatoes. We drove through the mountains, along twisting, narrow lanes that led past towering rock cliffs and tidy little farms nestled next to open meadows and dry creek beds. Bear kept me entertained as he pointed out landmarks he remembered from his childhood: swimming holes, picnicking spots, and places his parents once took him on Sunday drives. It was marvelous.

Where is your favorite place to escape to when you need a little break? xo

Autumn is Coming

Autumn is Coming

I’m sitting on the back veranda this morning, cozy in a flannel shirt and blanket as I watch the sun come up over our farm. Our lamb, Kebab, hears me moving and bleats his disapproval that he’s not allowed to join me up here. I wouldn’t mind his cute little self hanging out with me, but if he thinks it’s OK now, he’ll think it’s OK when he’s a full grown ram and that, luvs, would be pure mayhem.

feverfew at sunrise

I can feel harbingers of Autumn on mornings like this, when mist snakes across the fields and sunlight shimmers through leaves starting to crisp and change color. I can see it in my gardens as flowers that wilt in the summer heat come into their full glory, standing tall and straight, their blossoms jeweled with dew drops. I see it in the orchards as our grapes plump and the apples take on rosy hues.

And I feel it in myself as I look forward to packing away sundresses and hauling out my stash of sweaters and scarves and cute boots that make me feel sassy. I’m pining for campfires and creamy Stilton soup and hot apple cider fragrant with star anise, cardamom, and cinnamon.

I’ve set out books on home preserving and cheese-making and ham-curing, ear-marking recipes that sound especially marvelous for making as cold Autumn winds blow. And stacked up other books that I want to read once I finally have my gardens harvested from Summer and planted for Winter.

We’ve got some hot Summer days to come, but it’s fun to dream in the meantime.

hollyhocks at sunrise

I’ve been going out to my gardens every morning at this time, reveling in magical light and the quietness of a world just starting to waken.

I’ve been pulling out spent tomato plants and harvesting chilies, mustard greens, Red Russian kale, rainbow chard, scarlet snake beans, and even asparagus. I’ve never know asparagus to grow as long as it does here, and I love it!

I shuffle through my seed collection over and over again, somehow finding treasures I missed the day before. I’ve dug 15 new small garden plots, bordering them with the rocks I pull out of the soil, and have been planting all sorts of marvelous things: watermelon radishes (they’re fuchsia inside and white outside!), coriander and dill, crimson carrots, purple topped turnips, yellow and striped beetroot, more kale, mustard greens, and Swiss chard, red cabbages and Brussels sprouts, leeks and garlic chives, and tomatoes, bell peppers, chilies, and cucumbers to winter over in my greenhouse.

salvia at sunrise

Soon it will be butchering time on our farm as we fill our freezers with good meat for Autumn and Winter, and make room in our paddocks and pens for all the baby goats, ducks, and chickens born this year. We also hope to get turkeys within the next few weeks, a couple more lambs, two hives of bees, and, if we’re lucky, a pig or two.

Until then Bear and I will continue to work steadily building pens, mending fences, covering our orchards and vineyard, adding a new water tank, bottling the apple and plum wines we made this summer, and planning little adventures so we don’t get too tired and run down.

Now it’s time to put my hair up, find my hat, start up the tractor, and get to work. xo

Embracing Observation

Embracing Observation

When life tosses new responsibilities my way, I need to sit with them awhile, figure out how life looks and feels with them in it, and find a way to shuffle and shift to make room for them in a way that doesn’t leave me frazzled and overwhelmed.

So I’ve been hibernating a bit this week, slipping into the role of Observer Of My Own Life, and finding it rather fun. When you’re an observer, you aren’t a judge or a jury or an executioner. You’re simply there to watch and report the facts. No condemnation is allowed, no shame or lavish helpings of guilt, just observations.

 

elderflowers and sunlight

At the end of each day I went through my discoveries and made adjustments and changes and improvements, then put them into practice the next day and observed some more.

It’s been so interesting.

I really do love learning about how I tick, what I’m good at, what I’m rotten at, what things I’m afraid of or intimidated by, what makes me happy or excited, what sets off triggers, what makes me feel instantly comfy. I like to do what I can to help myself be my best self so I can walk through this life in peace with a full heart and a settled mind.

bean flowers and sunlight

Here are some of the things I’ve learned or been reminded of this week, things I can do to help me thrive and navigate life in a healthy way:

  1. Sleep. Such a simple thing but wow, it makes all the difference in the world for me. I went to bed an hour earlier and my 1:40 a.m. alarm was so much easier to rise to. It’s nice to not be a zombie.
  2. Exercise. My non-farm work involves copious amounts of sitting as I do my law firm work and my writing work. So hoofing it on the treadmill keeps my back and neck from getting stiff and keeps me limber and alert.
  3. Quiet. I thrive with moments of quiet throughout the day, especially first thing in the morning. Bear and I have renewed our practice of having breakfast together on the back veranda. Even if it’s chilly, we just pull blankets over our laps and do it anyway. It is bliss to be out there, watching the various animals wake up, listening to the wind in the trees, talking about whatever comes into our heads or just sitting quietly and companionably together.
  4. Reading. I need books. Need them. The stories and experiences and thoughts written within their pages never, ever fail to enliven my brain and renew my love of life.
  5. Writing. Setting aside time each morning to write in my journal, no matter how rambling or disjointed, helps me settle my whirring brain and work through any issues that may be niggling at me.
  6. Food. I grew up in a world where women were pressured to do everything from scratch. Everything. All. The. Time. Anything tinned or premade was looked down upon as not-good-enough, or a sign that this-woman-doesn’t-really-love-her-family. Such hogwash! I didn’t even realize I’d carried that expectation with me until recently, and when it hit me I thought, “Oh bugger!” Since then I’ve rebuilt my relationship with food and it has been glorious. Taking away the expectations and pressure has made food fun again. How lovely to know I can cook/eat whatever I want. Seriously. It’s like someone gave me Christmas presents all over again and I’m delighted. Food has become such fun. If I’ve got the energy, I love doing fiddly stuff with 18 ingredients and 12 steps, but if I don’t, it’s baked potatoes, or pasta with premade sauce, or even a big bowl of cold cereal. And the best part, it’s all OK. Premade, homemade, it doesn’t matter, we’re just so lucky to have food to eat and people to share it with.
  7. Nature. Being outside is pure happiness to me and when I let myself get stuck inside for too long, I suffer for it. So I’ve been carving out nature time every day, even if it’s just walking through my gardens or standing barefoot in the grass or picking weeds in the orchard. It contributes greatly to my well-being.
  8. Friends. I know we all go through lonely times when we move away or our loves move away, or things get busy or people get sick or money gets tight and we can’t afford drives or coffees or lunches. The last couple of months I’ve been much more intentional about friend time, whether it’s chatting on WhatsApp or meeting for tea and cookies on the veranda or stealing 30 minutes to sit down and talk on the phone. What a difference it makes to have those connections, to listen and be listened to, to share and laugh and cry and laugh some more. I’m going to keep doing this, maintaining the connections that make my life so rich.

sun setting through gum trees

How about you? Have you made changes in your life recently to help you thrive? I’d love to hear about them. xo