Ambling Towards Winter Solstice . . . and Ernest the stray cat

How is it possible to be so chilled out while working in our garden during chilly days? Snug cap, leather work gloves, flannel shirt, and fleece jacket help for sure, not to mention cups of hot cocoa, but mostly it is the calming nature of autumnal garden chores. Planting a cover crop of mustard seed is such a task. The annual veggie beds will benefit from living mulch by being protected against soil erosion during winter. Either the first hard frost or the battery-operated string trimmer eventually will fell the plants. The foliage then will be dug into the soil to enrich it. The incongruous sight of bright green popping up causes me to grin widely making my face resemble a crazed, carved pumpkin. Not that I wear orange pancake makeup. I swear I don't. Honest.

The middle bed along with the one in the upper right soon will be planted with overwintering onions/shallots/garlic

Fall colours sooth with their muted tones.

The bed filled with green is a mustard planting done about a month ago: it's a fast grower!

Abelia, a bush loved by bees, is holding some of its delicate, pink flowers, but their maroon sepals are even more of a visual treat.

Several remaining figs are ripening even as leaves yellow and fall from the tree.

There's enough to make a clafoutis with them. The recipe is here, just substitute ripe figs (halving or quartering them depending on size) for the blackberries.

Dirac the Cat is staying close by me these days because of his experiencing some emotional stress as he is no longer the only grey fur chez nous.

Dirac the Cat trying to photobomb the shot of the figs in the pan

Ernest the Stray Cat started to hang around our garden about a month ago. Short-legged, bull-bodied, dog-eared, he has come a long way from being in a super-stressed state—he spent the summer darting into homes poaching food from resident felines—to my being able to pat his head. He is still too jittery for a trip to a veterinary clinic, so the main focus besides feeding him and keeping his crate situated under the pergola cozy with clean linen and blankets, is coaxing him into the sous sol which is where he is fed. However as soon as the door is closed, he stops eating and cries to go out. Hopefully he will become socialised soon enough to spend the night indoors if forecasted freezing temperatures do occur next week. For the most part, Ernest and Dirac are accepting of each other, usually touching noses when meeting, but at times, they both become unsettled during the slow process of Ernest adapting to his new home.

Sneaking a shot through a pot of zinnias

The foliage of the trumpet vine has turned a wonderful shade of gold.

It and some ivy cover one side of the pergola

Dahlias will flower right until the first killing frost.

That's a yucca in the foreground

Of all the different dahlias, my favourite form is the single one whose bonus is that they usually don't need staking.

À la prochaine!

Cinnamon Apple Almond Custard Tart

Apple. Almond. Autumn. And the soothing comfort of custard along with a bit of spice. This layered tart appeals to both the eye and tastebuds: a buttery crust with plucky, steep edges filled with ground almonds and apples slices, topped with a creamy garniture, and dusted with cinnamon.

Ingredients
For a 23 cm tart which gives 6 servings

• Apple, large, 1 (a Granny Smith apple worked well in mine)
• Almond meal (I prefer non-blanched for its texture, robust flavour, and its colour, but blanched will do), 75 g
• Eggs, 2
• Sugar, 5 T
• Cornstarch, 1 T
• Crème fraîche, 200 ml
• Cinnamon to dust
• Shortcrust pastry, all-butter, for a 9-inch tart pan, either homemade (see below) or store-bought

Ingredients for shortcrust pastry

• Flour, white, 215 g
• Salt 1/4 tsp
• Butter, sweet, cold, 108 g
• Water, ice-cold, 3 to 6 T depending on age of flour

Preheat oven to 180 degrees C. If making the pastry, cut the butter in small pieces and add to the flour and salt. Work with your fingertips until you get the texture of coarse sand which takes several minutes. Add tablespoon by tablespoon of water until you can press the dough into a ball. Knead lightly about five times. Reserve in fridge while making the garniture. Whisk well the eggs, sugar, cornstarch, and crème fraîche.

Roll out the dough and carefully fit inside the tart pan.

With a knife scrape the lip of the pan clean of dough. The scraps can be frozen for future use.

Spread almond meal on the pastry.

Slice the apple in quarters. Core, peel, and slice thinly. Arrange a single layer on the almond meal.

Pour the liquid mixture over the apples.

Bake for thirty minutes. Dust with cinnamon. Let cool for ten minutes. Slice into six portions and reassemble them on a serving platter.

It's best served either warm or at room temperature.

Each bite was scrumptious!

À la prochaine!

Cheesy Roasted Sweet Red Peppers & Tomatoes with Brown Rice

Rachel Roddy writes about Italian cooking beautifully. Her style caresses as it is easy to imagine yourself in her Roman kitchen with all those delicious smells wafting around you, like a comforting aura. And she knows her peppers. Slowly roasted, they are redolent with basil, tomatoes, garlic, and olive oil. My serving them over a bed of brown rice and topping with Grana Padano shavings provided a delicious supper.

Peppers, tomatoes & basil are from our potager

Despite our splendid Corno di Toro Rosso (bull horn) sweet red peppers having been sowed indoors February to get an early start, there is a good number which yet have not turned completely red. As nightly temperatures are cool though the days are still sunny and warm, the plants have been covered in horticultural fleece for protection against the cold. Hopefully all of them will have time to mature.

Basic information and ingredients are in bold. Preheat oven to 205 degrees C/400 degrees F. For two ample servings, rinse six medium Corno di Toro Rosso (or 3 large red bell peppers) and 6 small tomatoes.

For a decorative touch, the green stems can be left on. Split each pepper in half. Remove seeds and white membranes.

In September, a pot of basil was brought in from the patio to reside on a sunny windowsill

Simmer the tomatoes for a couple minutes and then dunk them in cold water. Lightly core and slip off the skins.

Put the peppers cut-side-up in a baking dish lightly coated with olive oil. Peel and thinly slice two fat garlic cloves. Cut the tomatoes in half. Pluck about 36 small leaves from a bunch of basil. Salt the halves, distribute equally the basil, garlic, and the tomatoes. Salt again. Pour a total of 50 ml/2 fluid oz of olive oil into the hollows of the peppers.

Roast for about thirty minutes. Lower temperature to 170 degrees C/335 degrees F for another 30 minutes. If peppers are thick, then more time may be needed. Lift peppers onto a plate and arrange several Grana Padano shavings in each half.

Stir in two cups (total of 473 ml/16 fluid oz) of cooked rice in the roasting pan. Mix the rice well with the drippings.

Mound the rice and cover with the peppers.

The peppers delighted with their gooeyness, jam-like sweetness, and charred edges.

À la prochaine!

Mash 'o' Nine Sorts

As the end of harvesting nears, nothing is better than a warming dish of Mash 'o' Nine Sorts for celebrating seasonal abundance. Nine refers to the number of ingredients (the seasoning is counted as one), of which five are autumnal vegetables, and sorts refer to the chance of getting a portion that had a ring secreted in it. Cheddar, butter, and cream bind it together. Salt and freshly ground black pepper is all that is needed to accentuate its earthiness. Sporting a surface speckled with green, orange, yellow, and tiny bursts of red, my version, made from what recently has been harvested from our potager, could stand on its own decoratively, but two carrots shaped from their mash brightens it further.

Shallots, beet greens, potatoes & pumpkin came from our potager

Some of our harvested pumpkins had streaks of green so they were left out during the day in the sunshine to turn fully orange.

Hard stalks and skin are signs that they are ready to be harvested

Scrub well. Slicing off the stem end enables easier quartering. Scrape away the seeds and peel the quarters.

Ingredients and basic information are in bold. Put a medium-large pot of water on the boil. Chop into chunks 1 large carrot, 3 large potatoes, and a small pumpkin (the size of a cantaloupe). Add the carrots first for about five minutes, then the pumpkin for another five minutes, and finally the potatoes. Simmer till all are tender. Drain and return to pot. Over low heat, while gently shaking the pan, carefully dry out the veggies which takes a few minutes. Put them temporarily in a 23 cm/9-inch pie plate. Preheat oven to 177 degrees C/350 degrees F. Finely chop a small handful of trimmed beet leaves and five shallots. Saute them, using the same pot in which the veggies were cooked, in 2 T of butter for a few minutes. Return the other veggies, reserving about ten carrot chunks and a few bits of beet greens for the decoration, to the same pot. Wipe clean the pie plate and butter it.

Oh, the wonderful smell these veggies emitted when being mashed! I wanted to dive into the bowl head first. I went the lumpy route but if a smoother texture is desired, then a ricer would work.

Add 2 T of cream and 10 heaping tablespoons of grated cheddar. Mix well and season to taste with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Mash the reserved carrots and shape on a plate. Add the reserved beet greens. Play around till you get the design you want.

Put the mash in the buttered pie plate. Tuck in a ring if you wish. Smooth the surface. Using a small spoon, transfer the carrot mash in portions. Perfect the shape by making the ends pointy and the tops thicker and rounded. Add the green leaves. Bake from thirty to forty minutes or till well browned. I didn't budge too far from the kitchen while it was baking, because my nose was so regaled by the comforting fragrance being emitted, that it told me to stay put.

It is delicious served hot, tepid, and cold. In the last case, some thin ham slices would be a perfect accompaniment.

In the garden, potted zinnias are providing a vivid flash of colour.

À la prochaine!

Beetroot with its Greens & Crusty Lemony Brown Rice Au Gratin

In general, root veggies, and not just potatoes, adapt well to an au gratin style which is to say they are thinly sliced, layered with cheese, covered with cream, and topped with bread crumbs or in this case, with lemon-and-parsley-flavoured, buttered brown rice.

Ingredients and basic information are in bold. I made enough for two ample servings which were baked and served in individual, shallow oven bowls (each with a capacity of 300 ml/10 fluid oz) with exceedingly nifty handles. Multiply the ingredients to get the desired quantity if you want more which can be baked in one large casserole. Cut off greens from four medium beets. Trim off most of the stalks. Wash the leaves well. Layer them, roll like a cigar, and slice thinly. Stir two finely minced garlic cloves into two tablespoons of olive oil gently warmed in a skillet. Saute for a minute or so, then add the greens. Braise covered over a low flame till mostly tender, about five minutes. Season to taste with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Preheat oven to  177 °C/350°F. Scrub beets. Cut off both ends. Peel them. Slice each beet as thinly as possible. They don't have to be paper thin, but shouldn't be more than 3 mm/.12 inch thick. A sharp or ceramic or strong serrated knife is what you need. If you have a mandolin slicer, then you are sitting pretty. Slicing them on a glass pie plate will be less messy.

Our potager is giving us a generous beet harvest

Lightly coat the dishes with olive oil. Position enough beet slices in each dish to make a slightly overlapping, substantial layer. Season well with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Spread the greens on top of the beet layer, half for each dish and add 8 heaping T of grated cheese in two evenly divided doses. I used French Emmental, but any melty cheese would be fine, like cheddar or Gruyère.

Place another layer of beet slices. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

In a small mixing bowl, stir together 12 heaping tablespoons of cooked brown rice, 1 T lemon zest, 1 T lemon juice, and 1 heaping T of flat parsley. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste. Mash lightly with a fork.

Pour 300 ml/10 fluid oz of half and half (150 ml/5 fluid oz of cream, 150 ml/5 fluid oz of milk) or till the beets are barely covered. Then top with the rice mixture, dotting it well with sweet butter. And I do mean well as in small chunks placed fairly close together. Put the dishes on a metal baking pan to catch any drips especially if they are filled to the brim.

Bake for sixty minutes or when tested with a knife, the beets are tender. Let sit for about fifteen minutes before serving. My expectation was that it would be delicious, but not as sublime as it actually turned out: silky beets, cheesy, garlicky greens slicked with olive oil, and zesty, buttery rice with most of the grains soaking up the cream along with beet juices, but some dutifully providing contrasting texture, all coming together into a fabulous melange of sour, sweet, bitter, and umami. It's a splendid meal in itself, but its crimson cheeriness would go great with a Christmas dinner of ham or turkey.

Perhaps it was baking the au gratin in these two glazed terracotta dishes that made it come out so terrific. I will try this recipe in a large, glass baking dish and see if it comes out as fantastic as this did. And how nice it would be to have enough to last several days!

We recently found them and a silver serving spoon in an outdoor flea market

À la prochaine!