Following this past Monday officially ushering in autumn, the rains came and will keep coming all week. After a month of no precipitation, there's the satisfying fragrance of petrichor in the air, the amusing sound of my sabots squelching as I traipse through the garden, and the intriguing sight of soft tonal values switching to intense chiaroscuro with colour accents of deep pink, golden yellow, and mellow claret; at least that is under the ivy-covered pergola where rose of sharon, black eyed susan vine, and bougainvillea are all thriving.
The bougainvillea was gifted to me by the high school student who I tutored for her English exam which she then passed. That summer nearly ten years ago it bloomed well. I dutifully brought it in as the days got shorter as it is not winter hardy in our climate. Since then, the blooming varied from none to sparse. After being placed under the pergola last season for decorative purposes where it still got sun but no rain, it BLOOMED. Research revealed it needed drought stress for those gorgeous sepals to appear. That's right, they are sepals, not blooms. The actual flower is tiny, white, and mostly hidden. Additionally they grow on new wood, so late winter pruning is in order as is light trimming after each bloom cycle. As this variety is a late-bloomer, the show has just begun as it is studded all over with tiny, red sepals. Yes!
These two remaining and totally sodden raspberries are saying no more harvest this season.
Carrots are best planted at the end of May, June, and July when the carrot fly is not so hell bent on laying its eggs at the base of the ferny foliage. These were planted end of July and should be able to be harvested mid November.
As we both don't care for grapes with seeds, the twenty or so vines which were here when we arrived were gradually cut to the ground and allowed to be covered with ivy, but this one managed to fruit!
Turnips which were planted in early September may not have the time to develop roots, but for sure their mild greens will be harvested regardless.
This was the season that the cherry plum tree out front was felled. Now the Box Elder stands alone clearing that area a bit to allow both us and the sun access.
Those plants sidling up the side of the house in the above photo are perennial herbs, specifically sage, fennel, and rosemary. Rosemary had already flowered in the spring and is doing a repeat one now.
The hollow stump of the cherry plum shows clearly it was long past its due date.
The potted crew of shade-loving plants will miss the shadow that the plum tree once cast. They will be re-located under the front balcony entrance and sun-lovers will be put in their place.
À la prochaine!
Autumn officially will arrive this coming Monday. Here in southwest France, the days may be still hot, but the evenings have a bit of a chill in the air. So serving food at a cool temperature but with some warming, sweet spices is a nice compromise. Our fig tree recently gave us a flush of ripe fruit, the third this season, and probably the final one. As with the abundance of peaches earlier, making fruit butter is an effective way to process such a delicious deluge.
Ingredients
makes around a litre (a quart) of Cinnamon Maple Fig Butter
- Figs, whole, fresh, rinsed, 4 litres (4 quarts)
- Sugar, white, 8 T
- Maple Syrup, 2 T
- Cinnamon, 2 large pinches
- Ginger, 1 large pinch
For each serving:
- Yogurt, whole, plain, 8 T
- Crème fraîche, 2 T
- Fig, fresh, quartered for garnishing
- Icing sugar
- Maple syrup, a drizzle
Place the figs in a suitably sized, heavy-bottomed saucepan, preferably an enamelled cast-iron pot. It's fine if the pot is full. Cover and cook over medium heat for around ten minutes till mostly soft. Smash and crush the fruit with a large wooden spoon. Cook another ten minutes.
Working in batches and using a Foley mill, sieve the figs directly over a pot which fits the mill snugly. When finished sieving, ensure that the bottom of the sieve is scraped with a clean spoon. Put a handheld blender directly in the pot and blend till smooth.
Clean the pot in which the figs were softened and pour the sieved, blended figs into it. Add sugar, maple syrup, and spices. Cook, partially covered as to avoid splattering, over low heat, stirring every fifteen minutes or so, for around two hours or until the taste and consistency is to your preference. At first, it will have the colour of caramel which will deepen into a shade of chestnut. As it reduces, the flavour will intensify and start to resemble the rich one of dried figs, with notes of coffee and chocolate. Let cool a bit. Spoon into jars and store in the fridge where it will keep for a couple of weeks.
Fruit butters can be used in baked goods like muffins and simple cakes where they will add moisture and flavour. They are great spread on toast/crepes/crumpets or directly eaten with a spoon right from the jar! In that case, I highly recommend a chaser of a teaspoon of natural peanut butter following each teaspoon of fig butter. Any surplus can be frozen.
Mix yogurt and crème fraîche till smooth and creamy. Spoon into a serving dish. Put a heaping teaspoon of fig butter in the centre and four more spaced around the perimeter. Place the fig quarters in between the mounds of fig butter. Sprinkle with icing sugar and drizzle with maple syrup. Lovely, lovely, lovely! Not too sweet and not too luscious, just perfect, it make a wonderful breakfast, snack, or dessert. And I love the delicate crunch of the seeds.
À la prochaine!
The raspberry patch and the fig tree still are going great guns. Smoothies make a gorgeous, high-energy late afternoon snack. If one were going to eat all that fruit it would take a lot more time than quaffing them down!
For one large serving or two smaller ones, put five, washed, ripe, halved figs along with a large handful of rinsed raspberries plus generous pinches of ground cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg in the mixing container that comes with a handheld blender. Cover with milk. Add maple syrup to taste. The amount of sweetener will vary per the sugar content of the fruit. Blend till smooth.
The addition of raspberries always gives a nice blush to smoothies. Autumn was very much in the air while these were sipped on the balcony overlooking the front garden. Therefore the slight heat given by the sweet spices was welcomed.
À la prochaine!
Close cousins to jams and preserves, fruit butters—some of the better known ones being apple and prune—do not contain a smidgin of butter despite their name. The butter reference in this case describes the silky, spreadable, fondant (melt-in-your-mouth) texture which is achieved through simmering, sieving, blending, and reduction via a second simmering. It can also be regarded as a paste, similar to tomato paste, but sweet, not savoury and a bit less thick. It is an effective way to process the abundance of peaches streaming in from our potager. This peach butter can be kept in the fridge for a few weeks, or if longer conservation is required, it can be either frozen or canned.
Ingredients
makes around 500 ml (2 American cups of 8 oz)
- Peaches, fresh, 1.8 kg (4 lbs)
- Sugar, 8 T
- Lemon juice, fresh, 2 T
Peaches are beautiful in several ways: their fuzzy, round form with a circular seam connecting a dip on top and a tip on bottom says we are both friendly and substantial; their blend of warm-toned colours, we are drop-dead gorgeous; their fragrance, stay awhile, won't you? And you do, since their flavour is stupendous. How do I pick them? By shaking the tree! A few bounce off my head and the cats. But all in all most of them miss us and eventually get placed in the harvest basket none worse for the wear.
Rinse ripe peaches. Cut each in half (using the seam running around the peach as a guideline). Remove pits and discard them. Place fruit in a heavy-bottomed pot, preferably an enamelled cast-iron one. No need to peel because not only is time saved, the flavour and colour will be more intense.
Toss in sugar and lemon juice. Partially cover and simmer for about thirty minutes or until the peaches are falling apart and extremely soft. Stir occasionally. If peaches are not very juicy, some water may need to be added.
Working in batches, pass them through a Foley mill placed over a pot, that is, crank the handle clockwise three times and then one counter-clockwise turn to unclog. Repeat until the residue is no longer sopping wet. Remember to scrap off the bottom of the mill before using a hand-held mixer, blending well the mixture right in the pot. Rinse out the pot in which the peaches were simmered.
Pour the simmered, sieved peaches into the clean pot and reduce, partially covered, stirring fairly frequently to prevent sticking for around thirty minutes or until it's thick enough . . .
. . . that when a large spoon is dipped into the pot and that spoon is etched with a smaller one down the middle, the parting will stay. Let cool for five to ten minutes. Ladle into a clean jar. Keep covered in the fridge.
Oh, yes!
Almost too pretty for words, but how about translucent and the colour of rosewood?
Much closer to a sauce than a jam or jelly, it sinks deep down into the billowy bread folds. So good!
À la prochaine!
In late summer, when so many tempting fruits can be found in gardens and green markets, a nutritious, versatile, cooling smoothie is the way to go. It can be served as breakfast, lunch, supper, or a snack. Since I remember how ginger ale offered superb refreshment during my childhood summers, ginger often is added to our summer beverages. Lovely, luscious peaches and raspberries from the potager plus a banana, orange juice, and milk are the other ingredients. Ice is often added to smoothies, but since everything except the powdered ginger has been kept in the fridge, it comes out well-chilled on its own.
For 1 large serving or two smaller ones, using either a blender or stick mixer, blend together until smooth a large peach, rinsed, pitted, and cut small, a small handful of rinsed raspberries, peeled, medium cut-up banana, 1/8 to 1/4 tsp of powdered ginger, enough milk to cover, a good slosh of orange juice, and sugar to taste.
Delicious and packed with potassium which is essential for muscle strength, this smoothie is all I need to head back to the garden for digging some more beds so cover crops which function as green fertiliser will continue to be planted throughout this month and next. How many beds? Six!
À la prochaine!
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There's a paradoxical edge in the air. The pervasive mellowness of late-summer laziness when much already has been harvested, specifically rhubarb, asparagus, peas, potatoes, strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, and blackberries, is brushing against the beginning bustle of sowing for autumnal crops such as beets, carrots, kale, and tansy along with picking plus preserving peaches, plums, the second flush of raspberries, and figs. Watering and mowing chores are being replaced by weeding and clipping hedges such as ivy, laurel, and the wild area's brambles. Ivy covering walls/fences and pergola pillars gets about four trimmings per year chez nous. This one will be the last until late winter/early spring. When the cutting back is vigorous, dead leaves tucked deep into the vines will show. Through time they will flutter down on their own accord or be covered with new growth. This final trim was done a little too late as clusters of berries which sustain starlings through winter already had started developing so though some unfortunately got the axe, I made sure the ones up high were spared as on the ivy-covered wall in the below photo's bottom left-hand corner.
But the bustle is not exactly a bustle. Even it is pervaded with a sense if not exactly of laziness, then one of satiety with the promise of more to come. This halo of contentment hovering over our little city plot is reminiscent of the much larger one that floated over a farming community we visited about ten years ago south of Grenoble. In exchange of our being custodians for a century-old country property while their owners went abroad we got to spend two weeks during late August in an active agricultural setting. The large house more in shambles than not is referred to on local maps as Le Chateau hence at one point in our stay a pair of hikers stared with confused disappointment over the chain-barred dirt road entrance at the rather dilapidated structure in process of being renovated. We made sure the horses got their daily water and the orchard's apples got picked and stored. As we hiked around fields dotted with bales of hay and walked through narrow village streets where workers were making sure roofs were in good repair for the coming winter, this dual sense of activity laced with satisfied fulfilment was everywhere.
At the moment in our urban garden, there's a bumper crop of peaches! As I pick up the fragrant ones volunteering easy harvesting by their dropping to the ground, I hear neighbours' chickens clucking, clucking, clucking along, in their own feathery universe, bringing memories of our stay in that farming village where the sounds of domesticated animals were everywhere, from horses to cows, and of course chickens.
The fig harvest looks to be a record breaker also.
Beets still have a ways to go in developing their roots, but a few leaves here and there have been plucked to go into minestrone.
It's a common saying among gardeners that the best crop yield often is found on the compost heap. Ours at present is covered with squash and tomato plants.
The front garden's lavender, abelia, purple plum tree, and potted heather are bathed in flitting shadows cast by the much taller and still fully leaved cherry plum and box elder trees. Within a couple of months the shadowy dance will become more subdued once those trees start to shed their leaves.
Companions to the heather are a solar lamp and floppy, chartreuse echeveria. The succulent will put out welcomed, cheery, bright-yellow blooms in late winter.
Lavender cradles pink, low-growing dahlias.
It will get a clipping after flowering.
Deadheading regularly will keep dahlias blooming right into autumn like these lovely, single, red ones set in a dramatic background of yucca with its sword-shaped leaves.
À la prochaine!
Boiling small, unpeeled potatoes followed by gently squashing with a fork and then stove-top roasting in an iron skillet not only doesn't involve turning on the oven in summer, but also results in a superbly roasted tater taking less time than a baked one.
Last week I dug up two beds of all-purpose potatoes, to be specific, Rosabelle variety which has pink skin and yellow flesh; they will find their way into stews, soups, the skillet, and as mashed/scalloped for the next three months. Though it is best to unearth potatoes when the soil is dry, sometimes it's not possible to do so when there's been abundant rain. In that case, clumps of earth adhering to the potatoes can be rinsed off using the garden hose. The ones in the below photo comprise about one-fifth of our haul.
When Rosabelle is harvested early in June, it is suitable for salads, but when mature in August, it becomes multipurpose because it loses some moisture. To summarise the different types, salad potatoes have the most moisture, baking potatoes have the least, and all-purpose are in between. A higher amount of moisture translates texturally into increased firmness and less moisture into more fluffy and floury. However personal preference does dictate as in my own where I shun firm, waxy potatoes even for salads. I am an all-purpose lass! Though I have been known to sneak a few potatoes just for baking into our grocery cart.
Using a spade or fork to dig them up usually results in some getting damaged. When just an end has been cut off, I still store them in the dark, cool cellier. However, when they are slashed lengthwise or on the diagonal, I usually discard them as they are a bother to clean and unsuitable for storage as they can introduce decay into the whole lot. That's why I am as careful as I can be when working around them. There's a specialised potato fork with blunt tips that someday I might get!
After they are clean and dried by the sun, I separate the smallest ones with which I will make mostly smashed potatoes. I love smashed potatoes because they are an easy and yummy way of eating potassium-rich skins which contain as much potassium as the flesh. Since the recommended adult intake is about 5,000 mg, most of us don't get what we need, hence we feel lethargic and experience muscle cramps at times. If made in a pan other than cast-iron, they will be better than OK, but they won't develop the same depth of flavour and crackly skin.
Ingredients for Lemon Basil Garlic Smashed Potatoes are in bold. For two side servings or one meal-sized, boil till tender ten small potatoes in their skins. Let cool. Put a thin layer of oil (I used safflower) in the skillet and turn the heat on to medium. While the pan gets nice and hot, flatten out each potato on a solid surface by cradling one by one with your thumb and index finger while pressing down with a fork. The motion needs to be steady and gentle as to keep the potato flesh intact and not broken into pieces. If that happens, the finished dish will be fine, just a bit messy looking and more challenging to flip over. Mince a garlic clove and along with a teaspoon of dried basil and a halved lemon put close to the skillet. Carefully position each potato with the side of the most intact skin face down in the skillet using a spatula. Keep some distance between each one. Let be for around five minutes or until the skin has developed a deep-golden crust. Sprinkle with salt, minced garlic (using a small spoon, place some on each one, then smoosh down with the spoon's back), and basil. Lower heat a bit and flip over and let be for another five minutes. Additional oil may be needed. Turn off the heat. Flip again (to the side where skin is most cracked) and carefully (don't splatter hot oil on you!) squeeze lemon juice over all. By the time the skillet is brought to table, the piping hot potatoes will have soaked up the lemon juice. A sprinkling of fleur de sel is the final touch.
The skin was crunchy, the insides soft and cushiony, and everything was gorgeously seasoned as if the lemon, garlic, and basil were a natural part of the potato flesh and not upstart additions. Also a serving offers around 1000 mg of potassium—probably more because there is increased skin surface with several small potatoes than for an equivalent large potato—for the summer road when our requirement goes up even further because of perspiration and increased activity.
À la prochaine!
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