An explained hiatus

I have decided to take a hiatus from this space.  A year ago, I remember planning and sculpting the things I wrote here in my head throughout the day and even as I was falling asleep at night.  More recently, I have been feeling uninspired and repetitive in my writing.  I thought my joy and motivation to write might return but it's been a month or two and it seems to be getting worse. 

I hope you all have a happy Christmas!

Another successful recital

Although I will probably also post when the video is available, I thought you might like to have a listen to Jbird's recent recital.  If I were a critic, I would announce that it was a stunning success.  However, as his wife this might be the biased response.  I know that he played beautifully, everyone thought so, not just me.  You can hear the recording if you click over to his blog here.

A quiet week

Town has halved in population as most of the students have gone home for their Christmas vacation.  It's nice to zoom through campus on our bikes without fear of toppling someone over.  It's also nice to have Soph and Jbird as relaxed and free as me.  The Christmas rush I've always experienced in New Zealand doesn't really happen when there are only three of you.  Instead, we get to be as self-indulgent as we like.  We have a few small events planned to keep us occupied, all nice things like wrapping presents or baking or lazing around and shooting the breeze.  We've grown accustomed to being far from home, friends, and family for Christmas and barely miss it not being summer. 

A great loaf

I came across this video which shows an amazing technique for kneading bread dough and I realised I needed some more lessons and lots of practice.  So I got the book Tartine out of the library which focusses on country breads (i.e.: sourdough or bread the way it used to be made).  My first comment to Jbird on opening it was This book has too many words and not enough recipes but I soon realised that I was wrong.  The words were spent on teaching a person like me the reasons behind what can be done with/too bread.  It's teaching me about considering ingredients in ratios and weight, kneading and resting and kneading and resting, cooking vessels, moisture, and temperature.  The authors of Tartine actually ferment their starter on the bench at room temperature but it requires feeding several times a day if one is to do this.  I am not dedicated enough for such a big commitment and shall continue to keep mine in the fridge.  I'm also afraid my flour bill will go through the roof.

It was exciting to pull a large loaf out of the oven today knowing I still have a ways to go and that it still isn't the perfect loaf, but feeling a little bit closer to my goal.  Jbird thought it had a great crumb and crunch. 

Chewy caramels

I had this sudden desire to try making caramel candies.  I don't know why.  I shouldn't be adding more lollies to my diet, but the idea of the texture and pouring gooey caramel had me transfixed.  It turns out it's really easy - if you have a good recipe and are committed to staying by the stove top while the caramel cooks.  Unfortunately my first recipe called for an entire teaspoon of salt.  At first I thought we could eat it anyway but Jbird soon convinced me they were too salty.  We threw that batch out.  Jbird also thinks caramels are strange alone, suggesting they need to be paired with chocolate or something else, but I was really craving a plain chewy caramel.  Similar to macintosh toffees at home.

Here's a good recipe I've adapted from a few different recipes:

1 cup cream

2/3 cup white sugar 

2/3 cup packed light brown sugar (I used dark brown and it was still very yummy)

1/4 teaspoon salt (or less)

1 teaspoon vanilla

Combine all these ingredients in a heavy bottom pot and stir constantly over a medium heat until the mixture comes to a boil.  Wipe down sides of pot with a heat proof wet spatula. Leave to boil until it comes to 245 degrees Fahrenheit (118 degrees Celsius).  Move off the heat and stir in the vanilla.  Pour into a small dish, mine was about 8cm by 18cm (3inches by 7 inches).  Leave to cool over night.  Cut and wrap individually in grease proof paper.  

I can't eat all that caramel and put small handfuls into cookie bags to add to presents I'm compiling for Christmas.  I hope I'm not the only one that likes caramel and I hope they don't melt.

I've been swimming up a storm

While Mum-the-midwife was here, we were talking about how once they're pregnant, feeling heavier and more tired, women are often inclined to becoming a couch potato.  We came to the conclusion that this is not helpful for the baby or yourself.  Being fit helps when giving birth - compare it to running a marathon - and has lots of positive benefits while you're actually pregnant.  When Jbird heard me mention that I'd love to be able to swim again now that I'm pregnant (and I have more time on my hands), he suggested we do everything we can to find a pool for me to use.  So we did.  And I am.  I went three times last week and twice the week before.  It's a lovely thing to do in my more empty days.  The only thing that had me hesitate is the current season - I didn't fancy biking around with wet hair when it's super cold out. So far that hasn't been a problem.  My hat is warm enough to keep out the tiniest bit of a breeze and we've been having some very mild weather again.  The one day it was really cold, it was also raining, so I just flagged my swim that day and went the next.  It turns out I enjoy the bike ride there and back too - it's only 15 minutes away and gets me warmed up for the pool.  

Have you been lap swimming much? I get really obsessed with counting my laps.  The only way I can do it is by swimming one style a certain distance.  At the moment I rotate between breast stroke, freestyle, and back stroke; swimming four laps each.  This short distance keeps me motivated to keep going because I find I move through them quite quickly.  I was very confused about how far I was swimming until I finally looked up the length of the pool.  I had thought it must be a 15 metre pool which meant that my 40 or so laps were only 600 metres.   I figured I must be slow because of all that extra weight at my belly (and on my thighs and...well, you get the idea).  Turns out it's 25 yards (around 23 metres) and my 44 laps were a kilometre! This is a much nicer figure to brandy around.  I could actually tell people I swam a K today instead of just I went swimming.  Of course, most people probably aren't quite sure what a 'K' is because this place works in miles but that's okay.  Hopefully it sounds even more impressive to them. 

A really good sandwich

There have been many nights of late when I haven't had a clue what to cook for dinner, or even what I felt like eating.  Unfortunately tea and toast doesn't quite cover all the food groups and while it has been my staple in-between meal recently, I can't substitute that for dinner.  Luckily we were taken out unexpectedly for dinner last night so I was able to use the idea I'd had last night for dinner tonight.  One less night to have to have a brilliant idea.

My very favourite thing of all is a really good sandwich.  New Zealanders might even consider these burgers, as these are on burger buns (I broke my sourdough only rule).  However, I've become more accustomed to labelling anything between bread as a sandwich unless it has ground beef (known as 'hamburger' here) which then becomes a burger.  It was a goodie too.  So good we didn't add any sauce at all and were glad to be able to taste so many different flavours.  It had fried aubergine, egg, and bacon with fresh avocado, tomato, that beet root salad I wrote about the other day, and cheese.  Delish.

A continuation of the sourdough journey

I haven't eaten store bought bread since I last wrote about making sourdough as our staple bread.  Because of my desire to practice and try different recipes, I only make one small loaf at a time, about twice a week.  Unfortunately most recipes call for much larger quantities.  It may seem easy to halve a recipe, but they also call for varying techniques which I don't always notice in time, so I'm often ad libbing what needs doing (with mixed success).  For example, some recipes suggest making a sponge with the starting and leaving it to grow over night, incorporating most of the flour in the morning.  Others suggest combining all of the ingredients to rise overnight.  Or proof as they call it here.  Many call for extra yeast alongside the starter but I'm trying to go without adding any more yeast so I tend to ignore that.  Mostly it works out fine.  I haven't yet been very successful with my whole wheat breads.  They come out a little bit like vogel* and are very delicious toasted, but I would like to see them rise to be as lovely and soft on the inside and crunchy on the outside as my white breads.  

There are a few things I forget which I need to try and remember which may help my journey. Salt is at the top of that list.  I don't know how but I often forget to add this to the ingredients, leaving the bread somewhat flavourless.  I also forget to slash the dough before putting it into the oven.  I think it rises better when slashed, and is not likely to gain an empty air bubble which I have seen on occasion.  I forget to spritz the dough with water before (and at least once during) baking.  This adds to the crunchy texture and great crumb.  It's a must.  I am a bit absent minded these days and sometimes forget to follow through with whichever step of rising I'm up to. I left bread rising in the oven over night last night which I had meant to bake yesterday evening.  This only left time for a 40 minute second rise this morning, instead of an hour or two.

My most successful bread so far was a white sweet and buttery brioche.  Light and delicious, I can't get enough of it.

*vogel = a popular take on German bread made in NZ.  Full of holes, and delicious textures.  The butter drips through when toasted.  Missed my many an expatriate Kiwi.  I brought 6 loaves home with me from New Zealand last year thanks to my in-laws.

The common beet root

After doing some research, Mum and I found out that beet root* (as well as their leaves) are an incredibly nutritious vegetable.  They have a high percentage of folate and manganese, as well as fiber, vitamin C, tryptophan, magnesium, and other trace minerals like iron, copper and phosphorus.   You can read all about what that means for our bodies here.

I had generally avoided this vegetable growing up because it seemed so slippery and likely to stain.  At home we often use the canned version which leaves it's texture bland at best.  I wrote it off as Grandma food.  However, it's such a commonly used vegetable at home that I am at least accustomed to the taste, and had grown to enjoy it, even if I don't regularly seek it out.  I do miss the kiwi burger and Jbird and I had recently tried the canned version on our home made burgers.  However they're canned in water here instead of vinegar and don't quite taste right.  Anyway, while mum was here we sourced some fresh beet root tucked away in the leafy green section of the produce department in the supermarket.  That night we made a delicious fresh salad by grating some of the root, adding some of the leaves alongside other lettuce type leaves - alone, their flavour is overpower, mixing in some grated carrot, grated garlic, and a vinaigrette of olive oil, salt, pepper, and lemon juice.  Since then Jbird and I have enjoyed a version of this salad many times.  He doesn't love the fresh garlic on it and I agree it steals a lot of the flavour so I only add it rarely and sparingly.  The only vegetable I have found that didn't seem to improve this salad were fresh mushrooms.  I think they absorbed the oil, leaving the salad dry tasting instead of sweet and moist.  It's a lovely salad to enjoy in these winter months when fresh vegetables don't seem so appetising.   

*beet root - beets

A past adventure

I have been recollecting a tramp* I did with Alana in the foothills of the Himalayas in Nepal today, while I'm snug inside watching a few random snowflakes announce the cold/dreariness of these outdoors.  It was a memorable adventure with rhododendron scattered paths, views of the mountains to die for, bottled coke at many a tea house, and the company of a great friend.  

We'd chosen to go it alone from the start but found we needed help a day or two in and hired porters as we found them to carry our things for us.  Our first porter was a true Sherpa.  We met his family in one small village where the children asked us for pens and candy.  He wore jandals* and was a lot faster than the two of us, even with both our packs on his back.  While we struggled with the terrors of extreme tramping including potential hypothermia and actual swollen ankles and blisters, trudging through a bitter snowstorm; this porter was as sturdy as a mountain goat, always metres ahead of the two of us, in short pants and those jandals.  

He headed home to his family that night and the next day we found a new porter.  We also met his family at each of the many tea houses we went through.  Unfortunately for us, the visits were an excuse for him to drink rice vodka and by the end of the day he was a wobbly mountain goat and argumentative over the payment we offered him.  

It's the day after that that I'm particularly thinking about today.  Wary of hiring a new porter we were alone again, carrying our own packs.  We'd regained our strength and were feeling strong enough to conquer a mountain.    From the line on the map, I was sure we should find ourselves walking on a ridge.  Hoping for magnificent views on either side of our imagined ridge walk, I was disappointed to find that our path never came across this ridge, so decided to risk it and take a side track uphill to find the ridge.  All we found was an abandoned Maoist army training camp.  Feeling spooked by ghosts, we turned back to our original track, now 3 hours behind schedule.  

It had been a pretty great day up to this point.  We'd slept well and were very cheerful to be porter-less once again.  During our lunch break we'd laid in a sunny paddock of wild flowers with our food and books.  I think there was even a little stream running through it that we could wash our sore feet in.  We'd also had gorgeous views of mountain peaks, though they were behind us now.   But now we were tired and hours from the next tea house and dorm.  So we sat on the path and pulled out the treats we'd saved this far to try and booster some energy.  We pooled our resources and found we had a muesli bar, a few handfuls of scroggin*, some dry crackers, and the little packets of NZ butter we'd scavenged on the plane ride over from Bangladesh.  And what a feast it was.  As a child, butter on crackers seemed like the most revolting thing I could be offered.  But high up here here in the absence of shops and western food, it was the feast of a queen. 

*

tramp = hike or trek

jandals = flipflops/sandals

scroggin = trail mix

The mercedes of its kind

We bought our new pram recently...possibly a little early.  I haven't even had a scan yet, what if there are two bubbas in there?  On seeing it, Jbird announced it to be the Mercedes of prams.  That was rather sweet of him really.  Although it is a very nice pram, I think it's probably more like a nice new Ford than a Mercedes when compared to what I could have gotten.  Here are some pics as requested by a few lovelies at home.  

Time for an ad hoc

In NZ we love a good savoury pie.  Mince* and Cheese, Steak and Cheese, Chicken, Bacon and Egg, Steak and Mushroom, or the good old plain Mince.  We love to buy them from the Dairy* for lunch with a bottle of coke.  The primary ingredients are pastry, some form of filling (as named earlier), and tomato sauce* slathered liberally on top.

When my parents and my brother and his wife were here, mum and I baked a lamb roast.  It was kind of a celebration meal just because there were so many of us together for once.  We had pumpkin pie for dessert in honour of the upcoming Thanksgiving that mum was sad she would be missing.  After the meal we had a lot of leftovers.  A few nights later we threw them all together, along with some other items we found in the fridge, and baked them in a pie.  We decided to just put the pastry on top of the pie to be slightly healthier, similar to a chicken pot pie.  If this were a true New Zealand savoury pie, the pastry would completely surround the filling, like a sweet Apple Pie in the American tradition but probably eaten all over the world.

Thus became the tradition of my new favourite meal, named by Jbird: the Ad Hoc Pie. I've made at least one other Ad Hoc Pie since then and another last night.  Each time, Jbird and I love the meal.  Last night's pie had left over chilli con carne, steak, lentil and vegetable soup, and roast vegetables as its filling. 

* 
mince - hamburger meat

dairy - corner store

tomato sauce - ketchup 

Christmas cookies

Do we call these Christmas biscuits* at home or do they just not have a name?   

I had some kids I wanted to making gingerbread men for and Soph and I always like to bake biscotti together - although last year I also made it with Kate in NZ - so I got to and spent all day yesterday baking.  I still had to ice and bag the gingerbread men today.  The recipe I used is delicious, using molasses and lots of spices.  The gingerbread men turned out really cute.  They're also gingerbread elves, candy canes, Christmas trees, snow flakes, and snow men.  I've wrapped them up in cookie bags for the kids, as you can see below.  

We made three types of biscotti - almond and lemon dipped in white chocolate, chai-chocolate chip, and cranberry walnut.  The latter is my go-to favourite because of the chewy cranberries.  I've been so busy baking, I've only managed to trial the slightly over-cooked batch of the first recipe.  It went well with a big cup of tea. 

Although I had a really fun afternoon/evening with Soph with some great conversation, I'm exhausted now and I'm glad we're done.  I don't know if I want to see another cookie for a while.

*biscuit is the preferred term for cookie in New Zealand.  At Christmas time, I call them cookies, but I try to keep their NZ name for the rest of the year.  It's getting harder.

On my bike again

Now that I have more time on my hands, I'm going to make the effort to create more biking errands rather than avoiding them as I have been doing.  I need the exercise but I find it difficult to exercise without purpose.  I'm also going to try and start swimming at the IU gym but I have to convince Jbird or Soph to take me because they have memberships through their school fees.  

I love biking through the streets here because everyone has gardens and the streets feel nice and quiet and empty.  They are nicely undulating with lots of uphill and lots of downhills, so I'm getting a bit of cardio and a bit of fun.  My most regular bike ride is to the library and back.  It's only about a 20 minute ride there and back but we consider it as being 'on the other side of town'.  That's how small Bloomington is.  My favourite part of this ride is going through Dunn's woods on campus.  These woods are so unlike the bush we have at home.  The tall tall trees display each season so vulnerably on their branches.  They're wintery right now.

The start of a journey

I have recently been reading about the health benefits of sourdough and it has become my personal mission to try and bake it myself.  Regularly.  I've made a starter.  I added yeast to mine because I didn't know any better, but a true starter is made with flour that has been fermenting in water.  I think yeast grows in this naturally from your fridge/household.  I figure that the longer I can keep my starter alive, the more natural the yeast will become.

My first loaf was TERRIFIC.  Beautifully holey in the middle and crunchy on the outside.  But it was a white flour recipe - a sure fire way to make sure your bread rises is to use white flour.  I made my second loaf out of only wheat flour and found that it rose very nicely because I left it long enough, but it lacked the texture of my first loaf.  This may be because I forgot to spritz it with water which I have been informed creates the outside crunch and the inside texture - or it may be because I barely used any white flour.  I have my third loaf rising as we speak - it needs 12-15 hours for the first rise.  It's another white bread from a slightly different recipe, but I may turn it into cinnamon and raisin bread when I form the loaf.  I'm really excited about this process, it's the oomph I needed to get myself baking our bread again.

On the bright side of things

I woke up the day after that last post not exactly feeling better or more optimistic.  Mornings are a little bit hard for me since I've lost the sense of urgency I had not so long ago.  In a way it's nice, like being on holiday, but I guess I'm so used to urgency that I don't know how to let go of it and I miss it.  While I thought about getting out of bed, I read a blog about anticipation vs. anxiety and I came to realise how important anticipation is to me.  My last post was written at a time when I wasn't anticipating our future, instead I was dwelling on an overwhelming feeling of anxiety.  I placed the blame on our situation.  The thing is, those stresses on our life that cause me to feel anxious don't go away.  We've lived with basically the same ones since we were married - mostly financial, if you couldn't guess.  But we've carried on and survived and we're sure to continue to survive.  What's more, we both think we have everything we need.  It's not anxiety that keeps me here.  Rather, anticipation is what gets me up in the morning and keeps me moving.  Right now there is so much to anticipate.  I am determined to hold onto that while I live what can sometimes feel like humdrum daily life on a steep uphill slope.  Anxiety will only stop me in my tracks, leaving me miserable.