First Of The Season

Long time no post - weeding, sowing, planting, edging, mowing, hence the dirty fingernails, dodgy back and the large gap between posts. Other things have been neglected too - there is wood to carve and let's not forget the business to run - getting up early helps. I am trying to get into a routine of doing the gardening chores early in the morning and early in the evening in an effort to free up the rest of the day for more pressing activities. The dog has to be content with playing ball in the back yard as getting to the beach doesn't seem to happen as frequently in summer as it does in winter, she does have her own pool though; a cast-iron tub, perfect for cooling off after hours of lounging......I need to teach that dog more tricks, like how to use a hoe.


Last night we had striped bass, it was the first catch of the season for the NZ'er and hopefully not the last, it was as usual delicious, we also pulled the first of the salad greens. It really did feel like summer in Montauk - we were sitting outside without long sleeves, the stone patio dotted with an array of sandy flip flops was still warm from the day's rays and as we dined we listened to the strangely comforting sound of 'Mustang Sally' coming in waves from Nick's bar in town. We did 'cheers' to our meal of 'firsts'.


'Oysters' I exclaimed to my husband, he agreed (it's a rarity) I have eaten many borage flowers in my time and I recall more of a celery flavor, but the flowers I put in our salad last night tasted of the sea, what a strange delight! We ate some more to be sure.... yup, 'oysters' - This surprise taste got me thinking; a small plate of borage served with a glass of Muscadet, wouldn't that be an interesting summer appetizer? especially for people who don't/won't/can't eat oysters....I can't imagine. Or a borage fritter? The possibilities seem endless.
I do like the borage flower in the vegetable garden, it's one of those special delicate sapphire blues, comfrey is the same, but they both have a thuggish habit, they need a lot of   room.

I was asked to write a piece about my garden and fishing and cooking by the publisher of 'On Montauk' a little gem of a booklet for folks taking a break in Montauk, it's in the latest issue, another first....published author! Apparently I am overly generous with the comma, the truth is I am not a writer, I am a sculptor, a gardener, vineyard owner, probably some other things too, but I do like to write, I really do even though I am not sure about when to use a colon or a semicolon: but I am learning.

Stay tuned for tomatoes and gooseberries.

Summer And Stonecrop

We have fired up the barbie and put the umbrella up, summer is almost here and soon we'll be eating the delicious Montauk striped bass, perfect timing as our 2009 Sauvignon Blanc is now on the shelves. After a winter of cooking hearty soups and stews I am ready for crisp, clean and zesty food and a much repeated simple summer dinner in our house is pan-fried striped bass served with fat slices of tomatoes and mesclun from the garden, no frills, no fuss. Tomatoes dominate our vegetable garden - we do fuss over them because we have had some spectacular failures, last year I harvested about three, but 2009 wasn't a good year for tomatoes, it was however a great year for our grapes.


This year's Stonecrop harvest was a happy event, the rain held off and we had exceptional fruit; both the sauvignon blanc and the pinot noir and a very good picking crew, even the loading of bins occurred without incident - oh, the stories we could tell.

Having a foot in both hemispheres we are constantly connected to the changing and opposite seasons, we monitor wind and rain, the heat and the frosts. In the summertime when we are picking tomatoes, cutting herbs and pulling mesclun from our Montauk garden, thousands of miles away in Martinborough on Dry River road at our Stonecrop vineyard, the vines will be pruned and then all will be quiet for a while during the winter months. Then when it's bakery hot here in August there's a chilly wind blowing through Martinborough coming from the cold southerly Tasman sea and when we are blanketed in snow here in Montauk the grapes are ripening and glistening in the late New Zealand autumn sun.  

Summer in Montauk for us is about fishing, barbequing, tomatoes, salad greens, flowers and herbs - going to the beach early in the morning before the crowds, although one can always find a beautiful deserted beach in Montauk in the middle of summer in the middle of the day, it just requires a bit of a hike. Most of all summer for us is about sharing fresh food and our wine with friends; Montauk friends, city friends, faraway friends.

And the stories - it's all in the bottle - the handpicked grapes, the seasons, the blood, sweat and tears and the love of the land.

Note: The picture of the tomatoes was taken in 2007 - it was a good year for tomatoes.

Blooming Good Time

The shads are flowering early this year, last week the one in my backyard was a bare-naked winter tree and now it is donning a pretty white bonnet. To see the landscape packed with shads is breathtaking - gentle clouds of white and restful hues of green, a beautiful spring tapestry quietly rolling over the hamlet. A friend has a party every year to celebrate the blooming shads and the view from her deck is spectacular; high up on the hill, shads as far as the eye can see, all the way down to the water. Celebrations for blooms, for seasons, for the harvest......my kind of party, my dad used to have a potato party - the potato barrels were emptied in front of an enthusiastic and rowdy crowd, sometimes there was a glut but more often just a few measly spuds were unearthed (much applause and cheers) anyway it was always a good party, and potatoes seemed like a good enough reason for a knees-up.


I made deviled eggs for the shad party, I wanted to make something jolly looking and spring-like, my fellow shad lookers approved.


This is a beautiful piece about the shads in Montauk written by Hilary Ostlere.


Deviled Eggs


10 hard boiled eggs
2/3 cup mayonnaise
1 tablespoon dijon mustard
a couple of splashes of lea and perrins
1 teaspoon white wine vinegar
a splash of fish sauce
salt and black pepper
cut chives
smoked paprika


Cut the eggs in half and gently remove the yolks into a bowl, mix in the remaining ingredients, (except the chives and paprika) until you have a smooth and creamy paste, spoon mixture back into the hollowed egg whites, add the chopped chives and sprinkle  with smoked paprika.


A note about smoked paprika - I am going to sound like Simon and Minty on 'Posh Nosh' (love them!) but.....I used hot smoked paprika from Le Vera region of Spain, it really is exceptional, oaky and smokey without knocking your socks off - Kalystan's in New York have a vast selection of smoked paprika.


These little devils are divine with champagne and pretty good with Stonecrop 2009 Sauvignon Blanc too - more about the new vintage in the next post.

A Sunny Disposition

Everywhere there are spangles of daffodils and electric explosions of forsythia, and golden flames of spirea. April in the garden is mostly about yellow, but many people are not fond of this primary color with its negative associations: when something 'yellows' like old paper, or teeth, and of course jaundice and cowardice, some associate it with madness. I happen to like it, all hues and shades, egg yolks, chicks, butter and cream, old-fashioned primulas. I probably wouldn't wear a yellow dress or sweater, yellow's a difficult color for most people to wear close to the face, but a pair of pants, or shoes or boots, ooooh, yes. I have a pale primrose bag which comes out of the closet at the first sign of spring, along with a canary yellow pair of cordouroys (not worn at the same time though). 


The witch hazel flowered in January and is still blooming in April, it sighs into spring with its spidery blooms and whispers that warmer days are ahead and then the forsythia positivley yells that Summer is coming! I must admit that the screaming yellow of forsythia for me, has to be at a distance in the garden, I don't want it standing too close to me whilst talking loudly. I like forcing some branches to have inside, it is more elegantly restrained in a vase. I do like what my neighbor does with his; they are trimmed into perfectly round balls and sit on the lawn like gigantic pom poms about to roll off down the hill. Then there are the daffodils, giggling, gaggles, of them nodding their little bonnets, still looking cheery when the wind howls, and bites your face.


Note: When I wrote this just the 'yellows' were out in the garden - before I was able to post this my computer was stolen - I purchased another computer (groan) a week has passed, or more, and there is much more activity in the garden......the beautiful delicate green chenille catkins of Harry Lauder's walking stick, and the epimediums I adore the tiny flowers on this spring flowering perennial, they are the faeries at the bottom of the garden. Spring is such an exciting time in the garden, some things are eager to push through the dirt, others take a more leisurely approach, as a gardener I am watching everything and wondering if 'this or that' made it through - my obsession this spring? my beautiful apricot foxgloves, I spy one making it's return, but I had hoped for a big gathering.....early days yet.

Homemade Brown Sauce

As I was flicking through my cookbooks on a Saturday evening (just by way of a change) I came across a recipe in Fleur's cookbook, Fleur's Place is an internationally renowned restaurant on the north Otago coast of NZ - it was cod with a homemade brown sauce - I had some cod, store bought this time, but Montauk fresh, and I was excited about making the tangy sauce, I love making sauces and this is a great one to have on hand, it's similar to the much loved breakfast sauce from across the across the pond, the one with the Houses of Parliament on the label. We had it with soft-boiled eggs for breakfast the next day before a hard days work in the garden. 


There was a great deal of pruning, some light, but some seriously heavy lopping off of old privet limbs, which I have recycled and used as a rustic sculptural tomato frame, it does have a use - the ubiquitous privet. Much attention was given to the tomato bed; last year was such a wash-out I think I harvested three tomatoes. We prepared and manured, I intend to have an abundance this summer, a bunch of ruby red, big, bursting, big girl, super boy, super steaky, beefy mortgage lifting tomatoes at the table every night! (actually we prefer big beef) oooooh those tomatoes, they make me fuss and worry in that corner of the garden all summer long! 


I soaked the label off an empty HP bottle and funneled my sauce into it, such an elegant bottle, I am sure it's the same design they've been using since 1896. The bottle takes me back to a gritty Brick Lane (before gentrification) sitting in a really smokey caff with the barrow boys, early in the morning, having taken the short ride on the tube from Hackney to go to the flea market, eating baked beans, fried bread, fried eggs (there was no 'how do you want your eggs' they were just cooked according the to the way the cook cooked them) drinking tea in heavy off-white chipped mugs, only tea, if you asked for coffee they gave you a 'look'. I'm not sure if I did ever shake, shake, shake some more, some of the sauce on my deeply fried breakfast, I was always a bit wary of sauces in caffs, but I do remember the good times in the East End of London, and somehow that bottle reminds me of a certain time and place. I doubt if the greasy spoon caffs are still there, probably been replaced by Costa Coffee or Starbucks. I wonder if there is anything 'Dickensian' left in London anymore, and do the kids know what we mean when we say that?




Homemade Brown Sauce
Adapted from Fleur's recipe
Makes about a cup and a half


2 cups tomatoes chopped
half a cup of cider vinegar
half a cup of malt vinegar
1 teaspoon black peppercorns
1 cup brown sugar
half a cup of sultanas
1 cup peeled and chopped apples
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
2 bay leaves
1 large chopped onion
3 teaspoons mustard powder
1 teaspoon five spice powder
1 cup of prunes pitted
3 tablespoons molasses


In a large pan place all the ingredients and bring to the boil while stirring.
Simmer gently for about 1 - 1 1/2 hours until think, adding a little water if needed.


Fleur's recipe instructs you to pass the mixture through a moulis, I put mine in the blender, which worked out just fine.


This sauce is great with fish, eggs of course, sausages are bereft without it, and it goes wonderfully with preceding recipe too.

Bubble and Squeak

Most Brits are familiar with this breakfast dish, it's basically the use of leftovers from a roast dinner, traditionally cabbage and potatoes, shallow-fried in butter to create a pattie-pancake form, eaten with bacon, sausages and fried eggs, but it's also good with cold ham and pickles, especially piccalilli which this Essex girl is particularly fond of!


It's a dish that was born out of rationing and the Brits were very good at making meals stretch during those lean times, my mother tells of eating bread and dripping, dripping is the fat from the roasted meat. As a result of rationing, a thrifty attitude towards cooking has always been a part of the british culture, I would hear this phrase a lot at meal times 'waste not want not' food was never thrown away if one could make something of it the next day. I am glad I grew up in a time and place where meals were cooked at home and people sat around the table to eat.....with a knife and fork. Of course by the time I went off to college there were a smattering of Wimpy Burger Bars and Pizzalands, which were mildly appealing, but they were lightweight fast food joints and not a major presence on 'Main Street'. Today? well that's another big fat story.


As I mentioned in the previous post I made bubble and squeak to go with roasted cod, (thankfully we have friends here in Montauk eager to get up at the crack of dawn and go fishing....in March). The last time I made B+S was probably during my bedsit days in London, and believe me there was no fresh cod sitting atop! HP sauce more likely, served with some beans of the 57 variety, cooked on a stove operated on a meter which would always run out of money when the beans were still can-cold......we ate a lot of beans back then. Then there was the landlady with the liberally applied magenta lipstick, peering through a crack in the door.......spooky, but it was all good character building stuff - bedsit land on the Finchley road in the 80's!


Now the thrifty dishes from my homeland have been showing up in New York City with the arrival of the gastropub. The bubble and squeak served with cod idea came from a restaurant in the West Village - Highlands - a charming, cosy restaurant with a Scottish flavor, I am a huge Scotophile and I loved everything on the menu especially the pound of cockles served in a delicious broth. They serve beer in old pint glasses, which had me and my mancunian mate taking a hike down memory lane. 


Bubble and Squeak
More than just a breakfast dish, it's great with fish or ham, we had sunday supper with leftovers from the leftovers and chicken sausages, a green salad and grainy mustard, good simple fare. Any leftover vegetables can be used in this dish, but I think the brussel sprouts are a must.


1 large onion peeled and finely chopped 
leftover cold cabbage 
leftover cold potatoes
leftover cold brussel sprouts 
butter and olive oil 
salt and pepper.
Heat oil and butter in a frying pan, add chopped onion and cook gently for 3-4 minutes until softened. Mix in the cabbage, potatoes and brussel sprouts and stir over a high heat, make a thick pancake form, mashing the vegetables together and heat through, scraping up any crispy bits from the bottom of the pan.


My mother was a young girl living in Norwich during the Second World War, I asked her what dishes/food she remembered eating during rationing and what she missed the most, this was her response - Well now, rabbit ....pies..stewed..roast. We kept rabbits, that was the norm. Steamed meat suet puddings, beef if it was available (suet you could get from butcher in a lump, not shredded like today) Bread and dripping. A winter dish was boiled onions in white sauce (something I still do occasionally) Fish and chips once a week. All vegetables from the garden...veg soup, bubble and squeak. 


I missed cakes the most and bread and butter pudding. Butter, sugar cheese and dried fruit were almost non existent. Tea time consisted of sandwiches, jam when it was available, toast and paste. Sunday tea we would have bread and shrimps. Ice cream was a once a year treat. We were lucky to have fresh peaches. Poppy grew a peach tree which kept us supplied, apart from that, fruit was rare unless you were lucky to have apple trees and we didn't. 


I suppose the one thing I remember well, was making our own cheese and butter. The cream taken off the milk and put in kilner jar till about 3/4 full, then shaken for days to make butter, sour milk was put in muslin to hang until it was consistent enough for cheese. So at the end of the day, as I said earlier cakes I missed most. Sweets, well....... what were they!

Wild Deer - Cooked Slowly

Vegetarian and vegan friends....read no further! I was given some wild deer the other day, enough to make a stew for six, and two pies. It was given to me by a friend who has a hunter husband, the deer came from upstate New York, which is funny because we have plenty of deer right here in Montauk, I often think about how we could feed some folks in the hamlet, through the winter, on local venison sausages, burgers, and pies. If you have the permits you can go-a-hunting, but during hunting season it seems as though most of the hunters are from out of town, and they often do not behave so well in our woods. The NZ'er has fantasized about buying a bow and arrow, but for now he just grumbles about the deer and mutters on about installing electric fences and cattle stops.


A word about friends sharing food; last week a friend gave us littlenecks and steamers, he has the best in town, my secret supplier......it's all about the hanging, and another friend had a very successful day cod fishing, so we had roasted cod on a bed of bubble and squeak for dinner. Come summer there will be the swapping of mesclun, tomatoes, celeriac, and herbs, and more sharing of fish and shellfish, I love this town! More about bubble and squeak later.


The reason we are not so fond of the deer is because they eat everything in the garden, they eat holly leaves for goodness sake, and their favorite snack of all time is Yew.....mine are protected and very tall, ha, ha! they are a huge nuisance on the roads too, especially at dusk. I don't mean to imply that because they eat my garden I want to eat them! in fact I had never cooked venison and only eaten it once, and I was a little squeamish about it, maybe it's because I see so much of bambi, but the hunter husband made it easy for me, giving me prime cuts, all beautifully trimmed. The meat is very dark, but this is a good thing, due to the high iron content, and according to my mate Stephanie Alexander wild venison benefits from an overnight bathe in a wine marinade and also slow cooking. I used some of our 2008 Stonecrop Pinot for the marinade, seemed a bit decadent, and maybe not the red to use for this purpose, but there was an absence of red wine in the house, just good old Stonecrop........ #2!  Ok, time to move on.


The meat was so tender, really tender, with a wonderful flavor of juniper berries, the orange peel tasted so good too, next time I will put a few more strips in the stew, it tasted more like an exotic fruit rather than orange zest. I used the leftovers of the stew to make two pies, one for us and one for the little boy who lives down the road (not so little, big, strapping, athletic Australian, he needs his iron).


Daube Of Venison
Stephanie Alexander The Cook's Companion
Serves 6


2 1/2 lb boned venison  
salt
3 tablespoons plain flour
2 rashers smoked streaky bacon
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 onion diced
2 carrots diced
4 garlic cloves peeled
3 cups veal stock
1 bouquet garni
3 juniper berries
2 tablespoons port, muscat or tokay
1 strip of orange zest
1 tablespoon of treacle (I didn't have treacle so I used golden syrup)
marinade
1 onion, chopped
1 stick celery, chopped
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 bouquet garni
3 juniper berries
10 black peppercorns
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
1 1/2 cups red wine


To make the marinade combine all ingredients in a large glass or ceramic dish large enough to take the marinade and the venison. Cut venison into 1 1/2 inch cubes and turn in marinade. Cover and refrigerate overnight.


Next day preheat oven to 300f. Remove venison from marinade and dry with kitchen paper, roll in seasoned flour. Strain marinade and reserve. Cut bacon into thin strips and heat oil in a large enamelled cast-iron casserole, saute bacon until it starts to crisp. Add onion, carrot and garlic and saute, stirring until onion has softened. Tip in venison and stir. Pour in strained marinade and enough stock to just cover meat. Add bouquet garni, juniper berries, port, orange zest and treacle. Grind on pepper, then cover tightly with foil, or if you have a lid, even better. Put into oven and cook for 4 hours.


Remove casserole from oven and check - the meat should be very tender and the juices should have a sauce-like consistency. If juices are too thin, remove meat and vegetables to a warm baking dish with a slotted spoon, then boil juices on stove top to reduce. Taste for seasoning. Return meat and vegetables to casserole.


Take the casserole straight to the table and serve with mashed potatoes.