And so the successes
lead to greater ambitions, greater disasters and greater successes. Our neighbouring farmers’ patience was tried
by escaping goats, pigs and cows. At
least I got to meet my neighbours, even though in their justifiably, irate
state relations weren’t improved.
Being the completely
naïve and ignorant country person that I was, however much reading I did and
however many short courses I went on, I only saw the problems after they had
happened. The need to administer worming
medicine to the goats, the challenge of castration, the importance of fencing,
housing and corals, the struggle to brand (and yes I did once wrestle a calf to
the ground), the difficulty of getting a pig to the slaughter house (those
intelligent and affectionate animals will not follow you on slaughter day) etc.
etc.
The only farming that
I did start sensibly was bee-keeping. I
helped out a fellow bee-keeper for a month or two before getting my first
hive. And then started with only two
hives. Even so, when I felt that I was
half competent, the swarming I engendered and attacks that I suffered were
quite something. It didn’t help that the
local bees were Apis mellifera scutellata or African Killer Bees as the
Americans, in their histrionic way, know of them.
Nevertheless by the
time I left our lovely farm, I had 35 cattle, 40 goats, 40 bee hives, serial
pigs, serial broiler chickens, the odd couple of sheep (too thick for my
taste), 6 old and not so old layers and a vegetable garden that could meet
about 75% of our vegetable needs. What I
did learn, and quickly, was, that if Armageddon comes while I am still alive,
and I have to rely on my skills to feed myself and my family, we would all
starve and pretty quickly.
Asparagus with beurre fondue
It took a while for
our asparagus patch to take off, but when it did………..
There is no such thing
as a glut of asparagus, there is only a feast of asparagus. My favourite way of
eating those delicious stalks is probably the simplest way.
Pick and cook them as
if it was one operation. You cut the
stalks with a small serrated knife on or just below the ground. If you have cut them young enough there
shouldn’t be too much of a woody base. Bring them into the kitchen and snap off
what woody base there is, if any. Throw your grass into a capacious pan of
boiling, salted water.
While they are
boiling, take a tablespoon of their water and put it into a small pan. Whisk cold, unsalted butter into the water
piece by piece. This is an emulsified
sauce, not the classical English greasy condiment of unseasoned drawn butter.
As one piece of the
butter is whisked into the water add another.
Then season with salt, pepper and lemon juice. Pour over the cooked,
drained asparagus. You can tell when asparagus is cooked by pressing at the
base of the stalk. If it is easily
squashable, it is done. No al dente,
half cooked asparagus please.
At least 12 good
spears per portion and 50 gms of butter
Tagliatelle with saffron milk caps, parsley and garlic
Like a many farms in
our area, there were a number of pines trees planted about the place, some as
decorative and some as a plantation. I
don’t know when they were planted or when the rootstock came out, but, with the
rootstock came out spores of European wild mushrooms. We had boletus, both
birch and slippery jacks, though unfortunately, I never found ceps. We also had
a very productive patch of saffron milk caps.
A most delicious mushroom as its taxonomic name would indicate –
lactarius deliciosus. Like many
mushrooms, great with all eggy things.
For three
To make the pasta, mix
300 gms strong (or bread) flour with 3 large eggs and a teaspoonful of
salt. Mix until you have a stiff dough;
if necessary add another egg yolk or entire egg, but you don’t want a wet dough
that will be hard to roll out.
Wrap the dough and let
it rest in the fridge for an hour or so (or a day). Assuming you have a pasta machine, roll out
the dough to the penultimate setting (this does depend on what machine you have,
but too fine a pasta sheet might well make soggy eating). Hang it on a drying rack or leave lying on a
floured surface until dry enough to cut.
Wipe your mushrooms –
about 400gms – and slice thickly. Sautee
the mushrooms in butter quite gently as they are not usually very watery.
Season with salt and pepper and, when cooked, remove from heat and throw in a
generous amount of coarsely chopped parsley and finely chopped garlic, about 2
tablespoonfuls. Then add another
tablespoon of butter
Cut into tagliatelle
strips and blanch briefly in plenty of boiling salted water. Drain, but not too
well. A certain amount of the cooking liquid helps lubricate and enrich your
sauce. Mix the pasta with the mushrooms
and serve. Add grated parmesan to each
plate and pout ore parmesan on the table (with a grater of course).
Parsley. Generally, you either have curly (English) or
flat (continental). It has been
recherché amongst some to praise the virtues of the old fashioned English
variety. The chauvinist in me wants to
agree, but unfortunately the flat variety is not only much tastier but also a
million times easier to grow.
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