Happy Swiss National Day

All right, I'm a day late now as the Swiss National Holiday is on August 1st every year, but I was busy celebrating yesterday.

In honour of the day I made two Swiss recipes: Schaffhausen onion quiche (bottom) and Lenzburger apple pie (top), yummy.

Both recipes came from the wonderful little booklet "Baking with Swiss farm women" published by the LID agricultural information center of Switzerland. It features 27 savoury and sweet recipes, one from every Swiss canton, and I thoroughly intend to make them all one day. I got my copy free from the following url:
http://www.agriculture.ch/en/shop/
so if you're interested I recommend you head over there.

I must say that I was surprised at how well the two lots of pastry turned out! It was another 30ºC+ day and I was HOT, so needless to say that the butter and working area weren't nice and cool as is befitting for pastry making. The result was still lovely, flaky and crisp so I must have had a bit of luck there. 

My only changes were to use thick yoghurt and smetana (сметана, like thick, creamy, almost clotted yoghurt), in place of cream as it's very difficult to find here and I added a bit of fresh dill to the onion quiche. I used ground almonds instead of ground hazelnuts for the apple pie and sprinkled some on top in place of slivered almonds too. These were divided into nine pieces and we then went visiting to our nearest neighbours so they could enjoy the day as well. So far the reactions seem to be good :O)

After our tour of the neighbours, there was just enough time to get my Bern (my grandma's canton) and Swiss flag lanterns up in the garden and enjoy looking at those with a cup of hot chocolate as the light faded, until the mossies forced us back indoors.

Some new arrivals

In early June two storks (and I swear three at times) started taking an interest in the telegraph and electricity poles in front of our house and along our 'street' (in reality a grass track which is the access route for the six properties along it). I was rather surprised because most of the storks flew by weeks and weeks ago having returned from further south; one neighbour says from Egypt specifically. I think this was a young pair as it was so late to start nest building, and subsequent watching seems to have proved this!

They certainly took their time getting started, having finally selected the electricity pole in front of our derelict house in the garden. Enjoyably, we can see the pole, nest and storks from out upstairs landing, or chardak, чардак. For days all I saw was one stork, all alone, standing on the pole. Rarely, the other stork would return and the pair would clack beaks and spend a few hours picking up occasional sticks. Having got to the dozen or two dozen stick stage, it would unfortunately rain and all the sticks would fall off, amateurs! Repeat of the above, about four times over.

 On the fifth attempt the sticks must have got past critical mass and a proper nest, that resisted subsequent rain, started to grow, hooray. Both storks were around from now on - one wonders if the other stork had it's eye on a different location and there was a bit of a stand off for a while before building commenced here! - and whilst working in the garden a big, black shadow often went over head, fetching and carrying material. (Worth clicking on this one to see it a bit larger!)

Both storks have been helpfully tidying up the garden by picking up tree and scrub cuttings from past week's work outdoors. They are a striking sight wading through the grass and testing their sticks with a shake of the beak! Not quite as majestic as when they are stood on the nest or flying, but impressive nonetheless.

As you can see, the nest is a decent size now, and Mrs Stork has taken to sitting down for a few hours at a time. Hopefully the eggs will be soon to appear and Mrs Stork will sit tight. I am slightly concerned that after all this effort and rebuilding it might still all come to nothing... whenever rain is approaching or the wind gets up both birds disappear until better weather returns. Please let the eggs stay warm enough and develop. I'll keep you posted :O)

First harvest

Technically we have already been eating onions, parsley, coriander and dill from the garden, but this week we have had our first meals from our first hand sown vegetables - the courgettes, тиквички. I sowed two sorts back in April; one Bulgarian sort called Abundant hybrid, "изобилна" хибрид, and a heritage variety from Chiltern Seeds in the UK called Black Beauty Dark Fog. I should point out that all the courgettes that we've seen in Bulgaria are yellow and lightly coloured, and they tend to be harvested quite small. The larger courgettes in the photo of our first harvest below would definitely be classed as oversized by our neighbours!

I am happy to report that the Bulgarian sort live up to their name and are big, sturdy and abundant producers. They are a nice texture, colour and flavour - even when they get 'too' big ;0) The heritage variety courgettes are both beautiful to look at and very flavoursome. They were a little later to flower then their Bulgarian counterparts, but I did plant them out a little later, but both sorts still have plenty of young vegetables and flower heads to come.
Despite giving half of this batch to a neighbour I still had over 9 pounds of courgette that I had to do something with, so following some salting guide lines below, I've made up my first jars of courgette slices to undergo lacto-fermentation (I hope). If that sounds a bit too scientific, it's the same process as traditionally used to make sauerkraut.

Generally, use 1.5% salt by weight of vegetables. The recipe in particular that I followed called for 2 tsp salt per 2–2 1/4 pounds of courgette. Another way of measuring this is to use 1 tsp = 6 g salt.

The end result is not particularly salty, and the liquor left in the jar is fabulous to use when cooking rice or salt, or in salad dressing, or drunk neat (I promise it's nice and very refreshing!)

Before adding the courgette and salt, I put some chopped onion, quartered garlic clove, some dried dill and a dozen black peppercorns in the bottom of the jars. Here you can see what's left of a jar of lacto-fermented courgettes from our neighbour, plus heads of dill. I rather like the colouration of the liquor that comes from the peppercorns and other seasoning bleeding into the brine.

Here's the end result before leaving the jars in a cool, dark place to 'develop'. I'm not very good yet at packing in the courgette so that a) you get lots into each jar and b) more importantly, that the courgettes don't float and contact the air in the top of the jar - they need to stay submerged and away from air to avoid spoiling. Me thinks practice, practice, practice is the key here...

May I take this opportunity to wholeheartedly and enthusiastically recommend this book: Preserving Food Without Freezing or Canning: Traditional Techniques Using Salt, Oil, Sugar, Alcohol, Vinegar, Drying, Cold Storage, and Lactic Fermentation by The Gardeners & Farmers of Terre Vivante (with a new foreword by Deborah Madison), Chelsea Green Publishing Company. Not only is it very varied, very practical, very interesting but it's also full of gorgeous pencil drawings that I'd love to emulate one day.

Another book that literally had me drooling whilst reading it (yes, cover to cover during winter when the garden was just a far off dream...) is: Wild Fermentation: The Flavor, Nutrition, and Craft of Live-Culture Foods by Sandor Ellix Katz (foreword by Sally Fallon), Chelsea Green Publishing Company. Yoghurt, cheese, beverages, sourdough and some more exotic things like misos and kimchis are included in this one, yum yum yum.

We'll have a lot more courgettes on our hands imminently - even more imminently now, it's just been thundering and raining, and that means a growth spurt - so I want to try the drying-slices-on-a-string-in-the-sun and the vinegar and oil recipes, also from the Terre Vivante book.

Next on the preserving agenda is to start preparing jars of cucumber pickles and vine leaves, and later in the season green beans, and of course tomatoes, and okra, peppers... watch this space :O)

And 'cooler' still

To follow on from my last post, having gone from the current high temperatures back to Spring's relative coolness, let's now plunge back into the Winter just passed.

It is true to say that I  have never experienced so much snow, nor so much cold, before. We had a very mild autumn - or as they call it here a Gypsy summer, циганско лято - and then a late arrival of the snow, so we weren't expecting the thermometer to read -28ºC in late January! What a first winter, especially with gappy ceilings and a draughty roof, but we sat it out.

Much to our neighbours' amusement I was out with the camera quite a few times taking pictures of the snow - well it is rather novel to me, I'm sure it'll wear off in the end. For your enjoyment here are a few.

Here's one of my favourites (above): we had a wee bit of rain in mid January, followed by a drop in temperatures to a more normal -12º or so. When I woke up in the morning I did have to blink a few times before I believed what I saw, and heard. EVERYTHING was surrounded by 2–3mm of ice and I mean everything.

There is a huge and very old walnut tree in front of our house, and that too was swathed in its ice blanket. As I was enjoying the sight, as it was just getting light, there was a gentle bit of breeze, and then there was an unnervingly audible, very curious and impossible to ignore 'song' from all the limbs and branches as the ice creaked as they flexed. It was very hair raising!

Later in the day the wind got up and I stayed well, well clear of that tree, and all the others - with that much weight up there and the travel those cracked and gnarled old branches were making it wasn't worth the risk. There's a sound I will never forget.

And that wasn't all, the following day was a wee bit milder too, so we ended up with everything covered by 2mm of ice plus some very pretty, pure white hoar frost. Above is the larger of our two mulberry trees. Thankfully mulberries are very late to go into leaf and bud in Spring so they were none the worse for this rough treatment. It remains to be seen if we'll get any mulberries this year but the clearing away of scrub from around them can only but help as they are wind pollinated.

Something a little cooler

Greetings,

It occurs to me that until I get into the habit of updating to this blog I will be inexcusably slow and infrequent to post. So, in an attempt to stave of those guilty feeling I'll have for not writing for so long (last post March 25th, oh dear) may I offer out a blanket apology for being inconsistent/unreliable/quiet, and if you'll allow an uncharacteristic Americanism, tardy ;O) That should lighten my shoulders for a few posts at least so thank you for your indulgence, and now let's continue...

It's been hovering around 32ºC here during the day for the past several days, and if the forecast is to be trusted will continue like this for another week. For a pale, fair haired, fair skinned female not used to much heat I've been casting my thoughts to earlier this Spring when things were that bit cooler. Here's what it was like when the garden was waking up and I didn't yet need factor 50+ sun lotion and a hat to be able to work outside.

Above, here's our view from upstairs down towards the village. Taken just after the abundant mud had re-solidified and the hillside greened up. It wasn't long before the buds started swelling and the birds started twittering - very welcome sights and sounds after a winter that hit -28ºC (and more about that later folks).

Here are some welcome, sunny daffodils from my neighbour, plus some willow sprigs from the local, impermanent stream, currently running thanks to the snow melt.

The hazel bush is off to a slow start but here come the leaves and more catkins.

I wish you could smell these lily of the valley flowers and zdravets - здравец - leaves. Clean, sweet, a little spicy and pleasantly pungent. Zdravets plants, properly Geranium macrorrhizum or scented cranesbill, have long had a special place in Bulgarian folk lore. Giving of a bunch of zdravets to someone is a symbol of good wishes and goodwill, and offers protection to those setting out to travel or engaging an import undertaking (from Mercia Macdermott's Bulgarian Folk Customs which I highly recommend to those who are interested).

It seems like long ago now, but the cherry blossoms were a lovely part of Spring. Now we have almost ripe cherries on the tree that we hope to make into juice for winter. That is, if the woodpecker and his pals leave us any! With a bit more pruning and TLC we should have an even better fruit set next year.

I'd love to have a Morello cherry, or six :O) in the garden one day, just like grandma used to have. There was nothing so nice as a big spoonful of Mama's morello cherry jam, mmmmmm.

Why chicory and cucumbers?

When I first arrived in the village in early July 2009, having bought an old property in the countryside in north-east Bulgaria, packed up all my worldly goods, left the UK and moved here to start a new life, the roadsides were embellished with bright and numerous blooms of chicory flowers.
I have never knowingly seen these in England, and with the way the flowers 'popped' from the green verges they made a welcome and lasting impression. Through the first summer and autumn I have been here, and even into December, these flowers have been a constant companion.

I have often heard that chicory has an edible root which may be used as a coffee substitute when roasted and ground, something I have always fancied trying. A timely leaf crop may also be had from chicory and its siblings when forced over winter, again something I plan to try. A project for the garden this year is to encourage some wild and seed-grown chicory plants and the do some experimentation! 

 My arrival here was shortly followed by the beginning of the cucumber season. Hot weather, sun and an abundance of cucumbers (and tomatoes and melons and peppers and many more lovely veg) also served to remind me that I was not in England any longer, especially whilst savouring a delicious bowl of tarator (таратор), a Bulgarian speciality which is a cold summer soup made of yoghurt, cucumber and garlic (lots!). Just what you need when the temperatures top 25ºC. Having consumed many, many bowls of this highly recommended dish - mostly prepared by my generous and friendly neighbour - this too made a strong impression on me and chicory and cucumbers together serve as a suitable focus of why I'm here and what I hope to be up to...