Half way through the year already?

But hasn't it just begun?

But I do seem to recall an easter egg hunt, with a surplus of river rocks and a splash or two of wine...

And an event that required the preparation of traditional Australian cuisine:

Of which there is more than one! Why, hello! sausage rolls and mini meat pies! What are you doing here?

There was a birthday requiring cupcakes. Of the blue variety. Most people secretly adore blue food. (Some in our household don't bother with keeping it a secret.)

The was an event where we got to bring home flowers. It was a delightful day.

And there were several school-type events that required even more cupcakes!

There was also the discovery of a new 6pm friend, and the heeding of the advice to enhance the friendship with cucumber, strawberries and mint. Always happy to heed good advice!

There were a few short-lived interesting days when many in our household whole-heartedly embraced pretty nails....

And there was a moment of sheer elation when cutting up an early season watermelon and finding BLACK seeds. It is almost possible to imagine that all is right in the world. (A rather aspirational delusion in this day and age...)

There have been a few outings for the BBQ, and the revisiting of 2003 via a travel version of the mojito...

And batches of french macarons to make and transport to friends elsewhere...

And blooming things on the balcony (many having survived from last year- through the mildest winter on record) to remind me that summer days are indeed here, and many hopes are perennial...

Tossed Salad....

Before and After.

And although it is tempting, I can't really blame the toddler or the cat. It was me.

I love my kitchen floor, but it is unforgiving.

Oh, boy, has Germany changed me...

Last night, I found myself deciding to melt some Schmultz (which is pretty much just pure rendered pork fat) through some sauerkraut to have with dinner.

And it was good...

Culinary terms, as applied to our household:

Free Range:

Anything not consummed at the table. Can often be found, in a deconstructed state, under the cushions on the sofa.

Calorie controlled:

Any edible substance in limited supply that has to be shared with Papa. 

Locally sourced:

Whatever happens to be currently residing in our fridge or pantry.

Organic:

Anything that moves of its own accord.

Genetically modified:

Any substance provided by Oma that has an effect of „modifying“ the Caspi-Man’s behaviour... (usually, not for the better).

Convenience Food:

Anything located on the bottom two shelves of the pantry or the bottom shelf of the fridge (excluding the vegetable crisper).


Processed Food:
Anything that requires handling beyond the removal of the packaging.

Sat. morning egg-head breakfast.

All photos and some of the creations by The Caspi-Man ...

While we're on the subject of Easter....

• My first ever attempt at Hot Cross Buns produced a batch of hot cross scones.
• My 2nd batch was far more successful. On advice from my father (the baker) - use at least a third more yeast than you think... and double the sugar... and never get it started in milk -regardless of what the recipe says. (Guess what my recipe said?) Milk contains acid that yeast doesn't like.. always use warm water. Ok then.
• That said... I think there is also a place for hot cross scones. Quite tasty.

Cold rainy days ...

spent home from Kindergarten ... baking biscuits...

Brilliant Things About Germany No. 226

That often it can surprise you with the unexpected... even when doing a routine shop at the local supermarket.

Yesterday, for the first time ever I encountered THIS at the cooked meat counter. Apparently it's called "Spanferkel". And it's spit-roasted pig. Where I come from - people tend to spit-roast the other end...

Thanks to the Dutch -

we have frog legs in the fridge, crocodile steaks in the freezer, and industrial quantaties of kangaroo flesh.

It was our first international trip of 2009. (Admittedly - an international trip of just 25 kms! But still...)

There is a supermarket in Venlo, Netherlands, that has a remarkable reputation in these parts (mainly for cheap coffee, Gouda and seafood). It is called "Die 2 Brueder Von Venlo". I am not to be trusted in this store... because it is never the remarkable specials on everyday consumables that catch my eye...

Cupcakes...

Last Friday was Miss H's birthday. So we made some cup-cakes to take to her party... the Caspi-Man laid claim to the elephant.



And, just because it seems in theme- here is a picture of some strawberry tarts we made during strawberry season (back in May):

Was gonna make some quip about a knave of tarts - but that would be pointless as everyone can see - these tarts are not being taken by a knave - they're being defended by a knight.

food styling by Caspi-Man using his own props.

bad photography - as always - by me.

my 'No Bake but Lots of Bash' cheesecake:

This recipe is for a cheesecake that I actually created. All by myself.

It was inspired by my mum. (Hi mum!)

To be honest - more than inspired by - it was necessitated by my mum - as she wasn't home when I called - urgently requiring her cheesecake recipe. So I had to improvise.

But this recipe is dedicated to my gorgeous, wise and inspirational friend, Nicole, for whose birthday it was ultimately refined and recorded.

It is rich and indulgent and in no way delicate... just what one would wish for in a cheesecake.

Ingredients:
250g (approx) plain biscuits. (In Germany Leibniz Butterkeks work well and I reckon Arnotts milk arrow-roots would do the trick in Oz.)
½ cup brown sugar.
250g butter (melted).
100g melted chocolate.
600g Philadelphia cream cheese.
300ml cream.
1 teaspoon vanilla extract.
⅓ cup castor sugar.
Shaved chocolate for decorating.

Method:
Place biscuits in a strong bag (I find a freezer bag works best) and bash with a mallet, wooden rolling-pin, or miniature cricket bat until finely crumbed. (Toddlers find this great fun.)

In a large bowl combine crumbs, melted butter and brown sugar.

Use a glass or mug to firmly press crumb mixture into a 26cm spring base cake-form - compacting up the sides to form a high crust.

Dribble melted chocolate over cake base and then chill well in the fridge.

In a large bowl (again) beat together the cream, vanilla and castor sugar until thick (but not stiff). Add the cream cheese and continue to beat until smooth an well combined.

Pour cheese mixture into the prepared base and chill till set.

Remove spring-form carefully (as it is inevitable that the sides will crumble a little) and decorate cake before serving with the chocolate shavings.

Happy Birthday Nicole!

May your day be filled with joy, laughter, wonderful surprises and moments of wanton abandon.

(that's not too much to ask for from a birthday now, is it?)

Never ever trust a translation program!

Last Friday, we had few people over for dinner, including Monika- our beloved neighbour - who doesn’t speak much English.

I had taken the opportunity to finally try out a recipe (one that my sister had been raving about for ages) for apricots poached in Orange-blossom water, filled with crème fraiche and sprinkled with ground pistachios.

They were, indeed, delicious. Melt-in-your-mouth scrumptious. Monika – kindred spirit that she is – was also very taken by them, and requested the recipe. (And not in the vague way that some polite people do to indicate they enjoyed it - but in the way of someone who really, really loved it and has an upcoming occasion for which to make it.)

So, tonight, I finally got round to translating it for her. Or, rather, as I can sometimes be resourceful (?) - oh ok, then - a bit lazy - typing it out as simply as possible (while trying to ensure correct grammar) and entering it into a web-based translation program.

This process was followed by a very, very brief “proof-read” - during which I corrected a few really obvious mistakes. (For some reason the program I often use translates saucepan as Kasserolle- which is a casserole dish –and not - the same thing as a saucepan at all. And this recipe really requires a saucepan rather than a casserole dish.)

I then spent a few (longer) minutes playing with the font and formatting – and plonked the laptop in front of the Ger-Man, who was (and as I type this – still is) engrossed in the Eurovision Grand Prix on TV, with a quick “Can you please, bitte, bitte, cast a quick eye over this for me?”, and then dashed off to the loo.

Next thing, I hear the Ger-Man laughing hysterically.

So I quickly dashed back- so as not to miss whatever country's musical/theatrical embarrassment on TV had prompted such mirth.

But when I got there it wasn't Eurovision he was laughing at.

"If this is how the Apricots are made - I'm not eating them again," spluttered the Ger-Man.

It wasn't really the "Aufschlag"( 'to land', or 'to serve' but only in tennis) that was the problem, nor was it the "Nieselregen" ('misty-rain' ie. 'drizzle' over) - no- the real problem was the 'bring to the boil' - "holen zum Blutgeschwür". ( As in: 'bring to the red painful swelling with a hard pus-filled core caused by infection of the skin').

Heed my warning: Never ever trust a translation program!

P.S.
At this time, the results from Eurovision aren’t in – but I can share with you that if I had 12 points - they’d be going to Bosnia & Herz????ia and that the Ger-Man would be allocating his to Finland.

Very fishy...

Unless you've been living under a rock for the past few weeks - you've probably heard about the colossal squid captured and deep frozen in Antarctica - then shipped to the New Zealand Museum for defrosting and dissection by an (excited) international team of scientists. They were broadcasting (pod-casting?) live on the net early last week -but every time I remembered to check in they were still in the "thawing"stage - which didn't really make for riveting viewing.

(Apparently the specimen's a girl. You can read all about it here.)

I've had a bit of an interest in huge squid since I was very young - (believing for awhile they were a fabled creature - like mermaids) although my father banished this misconception early on telling repeatedly the story of wagging school when he was a boy to go see two that had been washed up on the Kapiti Coast. A few years ago I read in National Geographic (my mum used to organise annual subscriptions for the Ger-Man's birthday) that numbers of the "Giant" variety were increasing exponentially and no-one knew exactly why. Scientists believed it could be due to rising sea temperatures.

But, aside from general squid interest, this whole "colossal" adventure has unleashed in me, a seemingly insatiable desire for calamari.

To be honest, seafood in Germany is, well, a completely different kettle of (um?) fish, to what it is in Australia. I so very, very much miss reef-fish; red emperor, rainbow trout, and also barramundi (although not quite to the same degree that I miss fresh tiger prawns, sand crab, and moreton bay bugs) and I'm afraid that smoked eel and Matjes are really no substitute.

We have a very good fishmonger in the food hall of the Department store (that is conveniently located a mere 50mtrs or so from our apartment building) so I do spend a fair bit of time gazing confusedly at the unfamiliar northern species (presented ever so invitingly on their bed of ice).
I even ask questions. I purchase and cook to instruction - and occasionally it's even nice - but it's not the same.

However, the fish counter also often have baby calamari and squid tubes (all under the name of "Tintenfisch"). And these DO TASTE THE SAME! And, compared to most local fish fare, they are cheap!

So today, being Friday, I decided to ignore the Ger-Man's protests (along the lines of "haven't we eaten enough? do we have to have it AGAIN???") and make some for the Schwierig-mutter.

I have two secrets to share when it comes to making succulently tender calamari; the first is milk, and the second is cooking time.

MY BASIC CALAMARI APPROACH:

Soak prepared calamari (eg rings, or small scored flat pieces + tentacles, etc) in milk (in the fridge) for at least an hour before cooking. (This completely negates any rubber band tendencies.) Some advise adding a few tablespoons of lemon juice -but this is optional. The milk soaking is not.

Then, drain, pat dry, coat in mixture of choice (my basic is cornflour mixed with salt & pepper, sometimes a few breadcrumbs too, occasionally for a change -some added five spice).

Heat oil (designed for high temperatures) in a fry-pan (1 cm deep is all that's really required if you're prepared to turn the calamari). When the oil is truly hot (some cookbooks describe this as "when a bread cube browns in 15 seconds") place individual pieces in the pan for a total period not exceeding 90 seconds. Drain well.

Serve immediately (with sliced lemon, aioli, fresh bread, salad and - if you're like the Caspi-Man - you'll be wanting a few "pommes" too ).

Brilliant things about Germany no.219

Introducing the "Rührblitz".

(Translation: Stir-blitz).
For anyone who likes to cook - this very funky looking, masterpiece of German engineering eclipses the ordinary whisk. For gravy, roux-based sauces & anything prone to lumping - this utensil is beyond brilliant.

Nothing gets stuck in the corners of the pan (or edges of the saucepan) and lumpy clumbs don't stand a chance. Have personally exported at least 6 of them south of the equator. (Unfortunately -it is not so effective on cellulite).

Dinner

I know I'd sorta promised not to blog too much about the Ger-Man but yesterday came this email exchange (nb. the Ger-Man claims to be too busy with his work to read the full text of the craftily worded messages of endearment I used to send him - so now I tend to just communicate via the subject line):

From: pyjamamel
Sent: Tuesday, 1st April, 2008 16:45:17 pm
To: the Ger-Man
Subject: Fish or lamb for dinner?

_____________________________________

RE: Fish or lamb for dinner?
From: the Ger-Man
Sent: Tuesday, 1st April, 2008 17:02:34 pm
To: pyjamamel

Lamb unless fish means fishfingers

things I will never understand

Germans, in general, have a very cautious relationship with garlic.

They will certainly often go out of their way to avoid it - especially if an important work event is scheduled the following day.

Given their enormous and whole-hearted consumption of so many varieties of cabbage - I find this more than a tad paradoxical.

Australian buscuits

This morning I am making ANZAC biscuits to take to a belated Easter function this afternoon at the Caspi-Man's kindergarten. Or maybe not, as the Caspi-Man is not in the best of health today. But regardless, the buscuits are being made. They are in the oven as I type this. (The Caspi-Man is propped up on the couch watching "Fireman Sam", hopefully improving.)

Since moving to Germany I have become master of Australian sweet cuisine. Foods I'd have never dreamt of attempting back in Oz are these days made with frightening regularity. Pavlova is now a specialty. Lamingtons have been attempted (but have not become part of my featured repertoire as they are just too fiddly). But ANZAC's are my "piece de resistance". And they are surprisingly attractive to the German palate. (Although my advice is that it is best to not explain the significance of their name to a munching German. It is somewhat of a conversation killer. I often refer to them simply as "Australian" biscuits.) The Ger-Man occasionally requests a batch to take to work when he wants to suck up to his colleagues.

Making "Australian" biscuits in Germany used to be more of a challenge. For starters, brown sugar was not readily available here. In my early Germanic days, (back when when my life enabled it) - brown sugar was procured on work trips to the UK. Now, fortunately, it can be found here in health food shops and organic supermarkets. Golden syrup has been more of a challenge. I cannot count the jars we have bought back from Oz, or how many visiting antipodeans have had to donate 1 kg of their travel allowance on our behalf. (Unlike vegemite, a jar of Golden syrup does not stretch far.) But now, a good friend has discovered a local supplier of this caramelly goodness. (Yahoo! Butterscotch pudding can now also be on the menu.)

Besides the obvious, making "Australian" biscuits has many benefits:

1. The kitchen smells gloriously caramelly.
2. Stirring the dry ingredients is fool-proof for a helpful toddler.
3. Watching the science-experiment-effect- frothing of the baking powder in butter mixture is mesmerising (and not just for a toddler).
4. Rolling the buttery batter is the best-ever treatment for dry hands.

Here is the recipe I most like to use:

Ingredients:
1 cup (90g) rolled oats
1 cup (150g) plain flour
1 cup (200g) firmly packed brown sugar
½ cup (45g) desiccated coconut
125g butter
2 tablespoons golden syrup
1 tablespoon water
½ teaspoon bicarbonate of soda

Method:

Mix oats, sifted flour, coconut and sugar in a large bowl. In a small saucepan melt butter, golden syrup and water over a medium heat, stirring constantly until combined. Remove from heat and stir in baking soda. (Optional: emit suitable sighs of wonderment). Stir into dry ingredients.

Place rounded teaspoons of mixture on lightly greased oven trays (we actually just place them on baking paper on oven trays) approx 5cm apart, bake in moderately slow oven (approx 150 degrees fan-forced) for about 25 minutes or until firm. Cool on trays.

Yummy, lecker!

brilliant things about Germany no.214

It is perfectly socially acceptable, when eating, to use an upturned fork like a spoon.

(God help me next time we're in a posh Australian restaurant.)

Easter Eggspectations

As Easter approaches the Ger-Man is dead keen to organize an Easter Egg Hunt in our local Hoff Garten for the Caspi-Man and 4 or 5 of his closest friends. (Have I mentioned before that the Caspi-Man has a posse?)

For all parents, I guess, there is a strong desire to re-create for our offspring the "best" memories from our own childhood. But as I'd never in my formative years experienced an actual "Easter egg hunt" (and have always harboured an unfounded prejudice that the concept is a bit of a contrived construct based on American television) I'd been ignoring his suggestion.


With all the parental indulgence that goes on these days, sometimes I feel that instead of creating wonderful, magical childhoods we're really just providing fodder for future therapy sessions. Whose needs are really being met here? (Mental note to self: tomorrow the Caspi-Man and I must get around to finishing those sock puppets!) Perhaps we are in danger of not heeding the warning in the Phillip Larkin poem (you know the one that sorta goes:


"they f*#% you up your parents,
they don't mean to, but they do,
they pass on all their own neurosis,
and throw in some extra just for you..."
etc etc.)

Naja, back to the hunt.

The Caspi-Man & I ended up (unexpectedly) in Venlo (Netherlands) this afternoon. A spontaneous invitation from a friend who needed to stock up on cheap coffee, cheese and fuel. It is one of the customs peculiar to this region that many local Germans like to pop across the border to save on their weekly shop.

(As an aside - every time I "pop" over the border I am set to pondering - how exactly did it come to be, over hundreds of years, thousands even, that two distinctly different cultures emerged, and remained? With different architecture, different language, and different attributes when there is absolutely no geographical reason for it? There are no rivers or mountain ranges to separate the people. One minute you are in Germany, and a scant 2 kilometres later you're in Holland. Why has there never been a merging at the boundary?)


Venlo also, I discovered today, has (compared to Dusseldorf) very cheap Easter eggs... So, good wife that I am, I stocked up and I'll indulge the Ger-Man this wish.

The Hunt will commence 10.30am Sunday. (Weather pending).

The Ger-Man.

Laying his own egg.

Oh dear, it's finally happening...

...I'm becoming Germanized!

.

Yesterday I was sorting through our breadbasket - disposing of any that may have developed a slight blue tinge. (I simply adore German bread. And I'm discerning - my father's a baker.)

(Nb. - The absolute best bakery in Düsseldorf is Hinkels, just off Karlsplatz and the Blumenmarkt. People travel from miles around to buy bread there, and the queue on Saturdays is unbelievable, but it is more than worth the wait.)

.

The Ger-Man wandered into the kitchen just as I was finishing my bread-cleansing task.

"What are you doing?" he cried, and there was actual horror on his face.

"Um... ," cautious here as the Ger-Man hates waste and has been known to munch on stale bread before.

(There was an ugly bread related incident between the Ger-Man and my sister while on a joint family holiday a few years back. She was preparing breakfast for us all and had rejected an open half-full packet of days-old-white-sliced in favour of a fresh loaf. She's fussy about her bread -after all -her father's a baker too and she doesn't do stale bread -except maybe for stuffings. Things then got nasty and the resulting tea towel fight left visible welts...)

"Um," Bugger! Caught in the act - no use denying it. "Getting rid of the stale bread..."

"The Caspi-Man and I were saving that to feed the ducks!" he said, peering despairingly into the bin where the bread had disappeared underneath soggy remnants of our lunch.

"But you can't do that - THE SIGNS!" I said.

We live 50 metres from what I consider to be the most beautiful park in Germany. (I tell the Caspi-Man it's our back-yard, but because we're nice, we let other people use it.) It's huge, full of gorgeous trees, landscaped promenades, lakes, ponds and waterways, ornate bridges and lots of old and contemporary sculptures (even a Henry Moore!). Home to many varieties of bird life, including ducks, it is dotted with these signs:

Translated it reads: "Duck Bread is Duck Dead". And the Ger-man is knowingly violating the rules!!

And then it struck me .... I've become corrupted by the power of "Ordnung" and the German phenomenon of obeying the rules... I'll never fully fit into Australian life again!