Tag Archives: love

A New Home

11 Jul

So much has happened since I last posted. Life has changed beyond my wildest imaginings … Sometimes, I take a moment, a pause, a breath – and I wonder… How did I get here? How was I so lucky? There are times when I realise its not luck – I have had a life which, good and bad, has been a struggle in finding my voice and my truth. Now, in my 40s, I am coming into my self – and it is real grounded happiness. I know this: when you live a life that is true to your core self, when you recognise your passion and your joy – then anything is possible.

Since I graduated from Ballymaloe, I have been traveling the world. But I have always returned to Ireland. There is something about this place – the feel of it – that draws me back. I think I may have found my place in the world. And certainly, for now, I have found my cottage, by the sea, and my bliss.

A few months ago, I was in Ireland, doing an amazing tour of artisan food producers. I traveled 4,000 kms in 1 week and met people passionate and focused on producing the most amazing food, with respect for the earth, kindness and presence. Thats what it is all about really, isnt it? I went to see an abalone farm, sea urchins, the incredible and beautiful women at Burren Smokehouse, lobsters, Dublin Bay prawns… the list goes on. (And I will post that journey, hopefully, when I manage to write it all in a way that is not overwhelmingly gushy!)

Not only was I inspired, but I also decided I needed a base here in Ireland – and I found one. My friends agreed to rent me their cottage, in East Cork, by the sea. I am 5 minutes from Midleton town, in an 1890’s labourers cottage, with a remarkable history. When I first saw the cottage in March, it looked like it needed some work, but the bones of the house were beautiful – I could see that. When I returned to Ireland in May, the house had been transformed – and I did a bit of my own personalisation to make it complete.

As I have settled into my home I have felt it embrace me – and have been grateful for the sacredness of living in a place which is truly nurturing. The silence of living out in the country is amazing – because its not really silence. The sounds of the animals, the wind, the rain, the sea, all surround me. The freshness of the air, the clarity of the sunshine on skin … I soak these moments up after having been cooped up in a city for all my life. I go to the Ballymaloe farm and collect fresh vegetables from the greenhouse and raw milk and I come home and I cook and welcome those I love into my space. I am blessed. And so thankful.

So, this my house – before and after. When I first visited the cottage in March 2012, I took several photographs, and once I had moved in – and made it mine – I took another series. The transformation is amazing – almost a visceral, physical testament to the internal changes that have resonated with in me … And the joy of it is plain to see. This is probably the first home I have ever lived in which is so full of light. And oh, I am embracing it! These photos are for all you who have asked to see … those of you who celebrate my happiness and my joy because you love me as I love you. Know that I hold you in my heart and bring you along with me on this beautiful journey…

Outside

This is the view from my cottage in March 2012 when I first visited. The cottage is located directly across the road from the water, which is an estuary that leads to the sea. So there are tides, and the scent of the sea, without the wildness of being directly in the face of the ocean.

View in June 2012

And this is what I saw when I returned in May 2012… amazing how green it gets! And sometimes, I am pottering around the cottage, and I look out the window and I am transfixed by how the sky changes and melds with the earth and water.

And this is what I see when I wake up in the morning from my bedroom 🙂

The front of the cottage as I first saw it! The walls are so thick – its almost soundproof inside, and very warm and dry. The cottage had not been lived in for several years, and definitely needed a little bit of work 😉

And when I returned back to Ireland … it had been given some TLC – paint and flowers and gravel. Amazing how different it looks, and feels. Brighter, and lighter, some how. Just goes to show that a little bit of love goes a long way.

My cottage from the road – clean and repainted, with the hedges newly cut.

This is the overgrown backyard in March 2012. It was so chaotic I had no idea how large the garden really was.

And this is the garden when I returned in May. Its been tidied up – but it needs a huge amount of work still. What I didnt realise is, there is an acre of land attached to this cottage, and most of it is wild. It will take a good couple of years I imagine to bring it back to its glory.

This is the back entrance as I first saw it – an extension was built onto the cottage, and the back door you see open here is used really as the main entrance.

And this is how it was when I returned. The paint colour is “Mucky Swan” !!! I think its gorgeous – and I love my plants out there. Ive added a few roses and delphiniums since so there is a riot of colour as you enter.

This is the view from the entrance of the extension. They even put a picnic table up outside! Its gorgeous on the (few) sunny days to sit out there … pure joy.

Extension – Before

This was my first view inside the cottage! This is the inside of the extension – with the internal door going towards the kitchen. On the right side of this photo is the cupboard which holds the washing machine and dryer. The couches were cleaned and eventually moved to the living room. The hideous plastic table cloth disappeared somewhere 😉

And this was the view of the extension from the kitchen doorway.

Extension – After

This is the extension as it is now. New lighting fixtures, a lot of cleaning, and paint. I found the St Brigid’s cross (meant to protect hearth and home) at a craft shop on my travels. The rug is from India (via Ballymaloe House shop), the chair covers are from Ikea and the beanbag is from Groupon!

Dining table in the extension. Lovely how some flowers and candles can brighten an entire space. What makes it even more satisfying is that most of the flowers you see are from my garden. Who would have ever thought I would tramp around outside and pick and arrange flowers?

To the left of the entrance, Ive also created a little work space (it will have a desk eventually). Ballymaloers will recognise the four compartment recycling bin. I also have a little composting bucket on top of the bin. I found a great deal on a printer (50 euros) at Tescos. The painting on the wall is by Lydia Allen and is the menu for our graduation dinner at Ballymaloe Summer 2011.

Kitchen – Before

 My first view of the kitchen! Its a galley style kitchen – very well organised and equipped. Obviously needed a very good spring cleaning, but you could see the potential. Cant you? 🙂

The kitchen viewed from the living room. Note the little wooden chopping board built into the dividing space between kitchen and living room. I love details like that – because they tell me that this house – and this kitchen were meant to be lived in … functional and clever.

Kitchen – After

The kitchen when I moved in. The “animal head” is from South Africa – made from reclaimed, recycled plastics. The sign on the upper left is an Irish version of “Keep Calm..” which says “Keep Going Sure Its Grand”. Glasses from Ikea. Kilner jars hold raw milk from the farm. Broadbeans also from the farm – freshly picked and about to be eaten!

Kitchen with a new fridge, a sweet geranium plant, new knife magnet, and my favourite coffee maker (Aeropress). I love that the fridge is tiny – It makes me rely on fresh food rather than anything that sits in the fridge for too long. And its really a tiny kitchen – almost as small as my kitchen in KL – but its well organised and very easy to work in.

Double oven (of course) … and my Ballymaloe apron.

The built in wooden cutting board that marks the divide between kitchen and living room. My basil plant – and the amazing print my sister gave me to celebrate my graduation from Ballymaloe. Isnt it gorgeous?

 Living Room – Before

This is the living room as I first saw it in March 2012 – viewed from the kitchen. The front door is on the right. Entrance to the bedroom is on the left.

Living room before I moved in – taken with my back to the bedroom door. Fireplace (and Van Gogh print which I replaced) and view into the galley kitchen. Very faint view of built in bookshelves on the left hand side.

Living room with a view towards the bathroom entrance (next to the built in bookshelves).

 Living Room – After

Living room when I moved in in May 2012 – once it had been repainted and the couches had been restored. Lovely old candle holder on the mirror. This photo is taken from the kitchen.

The fireplace stove with my newly framed picture by David Choe (he of FB fame) … one of my favourite artists ever. I have had this picture for years, and brought it with me from Malaysia. Love it in the living room 😉

Second couch, near the entrance to the bathroom. The window looks out onto the sea. On the window sill, I have placed an Irish Ogham script which says … Blessing. Each time I stop to look out that window, it reminds me what grace I live in right now.

Another view from the kitchen – the main couch, beautiful old wooden table and restored wooden lamp. And a lovely painting of milk cans. Im not sure who its by, but it just fits so perfectly into the house.

View into the back yard from the living room. Note the lovely Penan basket – its so nice to be able to incorporate a bit of Malaysia into the house. And what makes me smile is the even lovelier photograph of the beautiful Z!

Bathroom – Before

The bathroom, off the living room, as I first saw it in March 2012. OK I admit, it looks a wee bit grimy.

Bathroom cupboards in March 2012. Even grimier!

View from the bathroom in March 2012 – the hedge hasnt been trimmed in years!

Bathroom – After

Bathroom once I had moved in and it had been painted and cleaned up a bit – I love the blue and white combination. Clean and crisp and bright.

Paint does amazing things – it just cleans it all up! The bathroom looks and feels pristine.

The bathroom windows – with beautiful muslin curtains from Ikea, fresh lavender and flowers … and hedges trimmed so one can see the water!

Bedroom – Before

When I first saw the cottage, the bedroom was the room that inspired me the most – but also worried me the most. It had these gorgeous – what feel like original – wooden floors. Very rough hewn, organic and natural. I loved them. But the rest of the bedroom needed serious care.

To the right of the bedroom entrance was a window that faced the water and two built in cupboards. The cupboards were quite basic – in very rough pine wood. While they gave a huge amount of storage, they werent exactly pretty!

And inside the closets was not much better … However, at least I knew there was good insulation in the room!

To the left of the bedroom door, was the piece of furniture which made me most happy – a gorgeous sleigh bed frame, which fit perfectly into the alcove. A window looks out onto the garden and back yard beyond.

However, this side of the bedroom also contained the part of the house that most concerned me – a very clear case of mold on the walls and the ceiling. Definitely needed some help here!

Bedroom – After

The rickety old bureau at the entrance to the bedroom has been transformed – by a good lick of paint, and a beautiful old mirror placed on top. Simple things make a huge difference.

And what makes a space a home are the meaningful things which are placed carefully. My Ayah, my sayang Adik, my beads from my Goddess Mother, my stones from Spider and my Laughing Buddhas. These welcome me (and my loved ones) every single time we enter the room.

 The built in cupboards have been completely changed – theyve been painted white, and bring such light into the bedroom. I added a gorgeous Indian rug which I felt gave colour and strength to the space. The curtains are linen from Ikea – I was going to buy dark brown velvet (dont ask where my mind was at!) but thank the good Goddess for Gina who insisted I consider plain linen curtains. She was absolutely right – and I realise am learning all the time!

The interior of the closets has also been spruced up with paint and back wall colour. I lined the shelves with bright blue lino which I found very cheap at the local Co-Op – and I bought tons of blue and white wicker baskets to hold all manner of potion and lotion and bits and pieces. I also installed the pegs on the left, and hung all my necklaces in a pretty row.

The window between the two (now cleanly white) built in cupboards holds a lovely antique tray I found at a second hand shop, and a water colour of a view of the sea. It is soul nourishing to wake up in the morning and look out at the sky and the water. Every day is different, and every day is beautiful.

And to the left of the door, is my beloved sleigh bed. I added a mattress topper I got at Ikea (makes for a blissful sleep), and sheets I had always adored from Muji. A lot of work was done here – they actually rebuilt the wall before it was painted and dealt with the mold issue. And I hand carried this precious Tibetan thangka from Malaysia and hung it as soon as I could when I arrived. It is the essence of creation – the yin and the yang – the balancing of opposites – the endless cycle. I sleep and I love in full view of the ultimate truth.

And nestled on the windowsill, by my bed, are always roses from the garden, and a Buddha to remind me of thankfulness and grace, beauty and eternal wisdom.

My home, my solace, my joy.

Thank you for coming along for the journey. x

A Nourishing Journey

2 May

I have been on a journey these past few weeks – both internal and external. I have travelled far from home to reach Ballymaloe Cookery School in County Cork, Ireland, where I will remain for the next three months or so learning and refining my skills as a cook. I have been looking forward to this trip for such a long time, that when it finally arrived – as much anticipated moments are wont to do, given the inevitability of time – I was surprised, and slightly overwhelmed.

But before Ireland, I had a moment of time to adjust and refocus my energy and personal space. I spent a wonderful few days in London … in a sun-filled, quiet flat, surrounded by green, a gift of my GoddessMother. I visited with my delicious Karo … and was embraced by my sayang for (and by) MsTina. She brought me a present – the divine chocolate of Amelia Rope – hand made, signed and individually numbered. Fine, beautiful, artisanal, and tasting of love – she gave me the Pale Lemon and Sea Salt edition – such a revelation. I ate and laughed and shared with my Adik at Carluccio’s … and dined at the lovely vegan raw-food Saf restaurant on the 1st Floor at Whole Foods, Kensington.

What a wonderful beginning to the adventure of a lifetime. Opened me up, reoriented my soul … and gave me a little space to just root down a bit. And then… and then… a journey that took me through Bristol, Hay-on-Wye and Fishguard (in Wales), across the Irish Sea to Rosslare, and finally here, to Shanagarry, County Cork. I was nourished along the way … by life – and by food and friends and an abundance of love.

In Bristol, I arrived to the warm embrace of Soph and Hux and Coral – and the beautiful experience of watching mother and daughter make scones with love and light and laughter.

Making Scones

They were perfect – a superb English cream tea.

Eating Scones

And deep, in the still of the night, I found a breath, unexpectedly. And I knew that right now, I am living in pure joy.

The next day, I reconnected with and hugged C+C at the Avenue Cafe in Henleaze and had a perfect latte before heading out onto the open road to Hay-on-Wye – the town of bookshops located in the Wye Valley in Wales. Along the way, I passed through country so beautiful, I just stopped and looked and laughed aloud with happiness.

By the Roadside

Nourished by the green, I stayed the night at the wonderful Old Black Lion – where the welcome was warm and kind, the bed was comfortable, and the building just resonated with stories and voices and laughter. I have decided that one of the great pleasures of life is taking a road trip, and exploring. One’s internal voice becomes strong and clear – and the pace is exactly to one’s own rhythm.

The Old Black Lion

I had dinner at the Old Black Lion – a simple but beautifully made mushroom, roasted tomato, spinach and leek vol-au-vent with mashed potatoes and peas. Fresh ingredients, clarity of flavour, and pure warmth.

Delicious

But it was the salad that really made me stop – crisp, green, sweet, savoury, juicy and perfectly fresh. Sometimes its the most basic of things, presented with a loving hand, that makes the heart glad.

Simple Salad

And then it was across the Brecon Beacons – greens of infinite hue, gently rolling hills, trees singing me along my journey… and a blue blue sky.

Nothing but blue sky

And then, Fishguard, where I was to catch a ferry across the Irish seas. I stayed at the Fishguard Bay Hotel and had dinner there that night. The food was less than memorable, but the view of the harbour was beautiful. Nourishment is where you look for it 🙂

The ferry left in the early hours of the morning, and I arrived on the Emerald Isle at 615 in the morning… to mizzle (mist and drizzle combined) and pure sweet air and laughter in the wind. I arrived at Ballymaloe Cookery School at around 930am and was shown my beautiful cottage, where I am to stay for the next three months with five other lovely people – Mrs. Walsh’s cottage. (My room is the second floor window on the left).

Mrs. Walsh's Cottage

It is so beautiful here, my senses and my spirit devour everything – the sounds of the birds and the rain and the wind, the scent of green and sweetness and earth, the lushness and textures of stone and wood and growing things. It is a place to learn, expand and be nourished.

And on that first day, after unpacking and making my own bed, after setting out my Buddhas and laying out my clothes… I went to Ballymaloe House Cafe and Craft Shop. Firstly, to get a warm woolen sweater as an extra layer against the cold! But also, to enjoy a new meal, with a new friend.

Gorgeous, earthy brown bread and Irish soda bread (which I shall know how to make soon!)

Irish Soda Bread

A lovely welcome lunch of fresh salad, light cucumber pickle, spicy tomato chutney and a camembert and caramelised onion tart. Such a gorgeous textural combination – and such lovely company.

Lunch

And then to bed … with the promise and the joy of a new beginning – of cooking every day, being immersed in food and conversation and new souls and spirits. Of living in green and laughter, and using my brain and body and skill. Of breathing deep and true and resonating with joy.

Nourishment is all around … it is the journey.

Words of Wisdom from Ayah

12 Apr

So, there is very little time left here in KL until I go off to cooking school. I am overwhelmed by the amount of things I have yet to do in my life here – and also what I need to prepare for the trip. Underneath it all is this low, steady throb. I have been trying to figure out what its been about – and suddenly, I realised. I am scared.

Scared of changing my life at 40, scared of the unknown, scared of going back to school again. Its all a bit daunting – making new friends, being in a new place, opening my mind to learn. But fear, I have found, is a good thing. It pushes me to open the mind and soul and change. I keep saying, these days, that courage is not the absence of fear – it is acting despite it. And today, while trying to sit and acknowledge the fear, I have been inspired by two people close to me.

The first is my dear Pingaling. She posted this Brand Courage blog and in it, she quoted me. She said that I had once said to her, “The life you have is the life you have been courageous enough to live.” I dont remember saying such wisdom, but it is true… and this delectable blog, and the embracing of my true self is all about having the courage to live the life I want and deserve.

The second inspiration is my late Ayah. I have been going through his papers in the last few weeks, and today I found his remarks at my high school graduation in 1988. They are as relevant now as they were more than 20 years ago … and they speak of love, of change, of courage and of living a conscious life. I have decided that today’s blog post will be my Ayah’s words. To remind me to have courage, to live the live that I know I should … and to share his words with all those that I love.

I hope you find the light and the love in these words as I have.

Pure Love

 

Remarks at the High School Graduation, International School Kuala Lumpur

3 June 1988

Memories must now crowd upon you, the graduants, on this last evening of your school life. Memories of Taman and of Phuket spring breaks, of parties and more parties, and curfews broken and the inevitable excuses which look plausible at three in the morning but are so woefully thread-bare in the cold light of day; of crazy midnight drives and Roti runs; and memories, too, of detention classes, and Algebra II and French Grammar, and vocabulary lists and tests and papers and date-lines; and memories also, I hope, of the exhilaration of an intellectual discovery you have made yourself, the thrill of a new skill you have mastered after enormous effort and the joy of companionable friends who have seen you through good times and bad times. You may be surprised to know that your parents, too, share in all these memories. But you have the consolation that there will be many more memories that you will accumulate. But no matter; you will always be part of us. Wherever you are and whatever you do, at the summit and in the valleys and in all the areas in between, you will always have a part of us with you, our unquestioning love above all, and our prayers and our support, and yes, our friendship always.

But let me hasten to assure you that this is not going to be a sentimental speech – that emotion which at this point in your lives you surely abhor above all. You have graduated today, for which you deserve every congratulation. Your dominant emotion must surely be one of freedom – freedom from (dare I say it?) that horrible school uniform which you will never have to wear again, freedom from unreasonably early curfews, freedom from that insistent alarm at seven o’clock or earlier, freedom from those dreary chores of rules and lists and tests. Yes, it is a wonderful thing, that freedom. But freedom, as your philosophy class has taught you, is not license. And so I say, as to that freedom: do what you feel you should do, and all else follows.

You note that I have used the would “should” – what you feel you should do – not simply what you want to do. There is, of course, a world of difference between the two. There are many things that you may want to do – to play or watch television when there is work to do, to stay out every night, to sleep late, loiter, do absolutely nothing, and so on. But freedom is not doing what you want to do. Freedom is doing what you will yourself to do that which you know you should do. Recognising the difference is what education is all about.

You have had the good fortune these past years to be educated at an international school, which has meant exposure to other cultures and values and ways of life. I say this because the world is almost literally a smaller place than it was only a few years ago and, with the increasing pace of technological changes, it will shrink even more each year. The new Century will be upon us in only 12 years. You will then be, most of you, around thirty years in age having recently embarked on the great adventure of life on your own. Who knows what the world will be like then? The Industrial Revolution brought more changes in the last 200 years than in the previous 2,000 – indeed 6,000 – years of  human history. And the technotronic-genetic revolution of the last 20 years – the revolution of technology, electronics and human genetics – have brought about more change than the previous 200 years. And the pace will accelerate.

As you celebrate that midnight hour on 31st December 1999, I hope you will feel that you have done all you can to educate yourselves for the challenges of the 21st Century. Educate yourself, then, first of all for survival – by which I mean for gainful and productive employment whether as teacher or doctor or banker, artist or craftsman or technician, worker of hand or brain. An ageing hipster or beach-bum is not, I assure you, a pleasant sight, nor does she or he have a particularly pleasant existence.

Educate yourself, too, for awareness. Awareness, that is, of the community and the world around you, of the horror and squalor that are too much with us. Do you know, for example, that practically 1 person in 5 in the world is chronically hungry or that practically 1 in 2 is illiterate? We, all of us in this room, in fact lead privileged lives. That privilege carries with it a certain responsibility which we must educate ourselves to discharge.

Educate yourself, also, for living – for the splendour and majesty of this world, the the joys of life, both mental and physical, for music and books and art, for the sunshine and the sea and the mountain-top.

Education, then, is a fearsome thing. It happens also to be a wonderfully exciting and exhilarating thing. It is a multi-dimensional effort for the human being is multi-dimensional. The mind, the heart, the emotion, the moral values of right and wrong, the physical sense of being – all these have to be educated.

You are now about to embark on the next phase, which is perhaps the most crucial phase, of your education. As you do so, I wish you three qualities of mind and heart: I wish for you a sense of curiosity, of courage and of caring.

I wish for you that you will always be curious about everything around you, that you will be curious how a rocket flies or why the stars shine, that you will be curious to learn new skills, whether it is to play tennis better or to work a computer more expertly, that you will be curious to know more about the society around you, about politics and banking and finance.

I wish for you that you will always have courage – the courage of your own conviction, the courage to take risks, courage both physical and moral. And courage, let me remind you, is not the absence of fear – all of us, I assure you, are afraid of something at some point in our lives – but it is the ability to do and act in spite of your fear. Do not be afraid of the unknown. It is much better to make mistakes – you can always learn from your mistakes – than to be so anxious not to make mistakes that you do nothing at all.

And finally, I wish for you that you will always care – that you care enough for your body that you do not do anything to harm it, that you care enough for your mind that you will feed it with new ideas and fresh ways of looking at things, that you care enough for your family and your friends, that you will always give them your support, that you care enough for your community, your country and the world beyond, that you will be willing to do something to make it a better and a happier place.

Youth, as Oscar Wilde said, is the Lord of Life. Youth has a Kingdom waiting for it. Grasp it with all your energy, with all your heart. There is a line of Baudelaire which I commend to you. Get drunk, it says – please do not take this too literally – “Get drunk, with wine, with music or with virtue as you choose. But get drunk.” Drink deep, then, of life – and you will be alright.

May your parents, your families, your friends and your teachers – and above all, you yourself – always be proud of you. May all your years ahead give you joy, stimulation and satisfaction. All the blessings of your parents go with you, tonight and always.

Thank you, Daddy, for shining the Light for me, as always.

Mak Manja’s Steamed Orange Juice Healer

13 Dec

My Mak Manja has given me so much in this lifetime – her wisdom, her love, her strength, the sanctuary of her home, her intervention when I had no will… and so much laughter and joy. If I could wish anything for you, it would be for a Mak Manja of your own, who guides you, watches over you and loves you through it all. Of course, I cannot arrange for a Mak Manja for everyone (I believe that’s down to karma and fate!) but… I can share with you this.

The last time she visited, I was getting over the flu. My Mak Manja brought me a gift. A bag of oranges, and some rock sugar. She made herself at home in my kitchen, and she proceeded to prepare me this amazing, blissful, divine orange juice healing potion. Its very simple, and even though I am not sure which natural healing medicine it comes from (Ayurveda? Traditional Chinese Medicine? Natropathy? Or may be just her own instinctual knowledge…), I do know that this juice has extraordinary healing benefits. The orange is steamed, in a covered mug, in a pot. For hours and hours and hours. Well, a minimum of two hours, but really, as long as you can … the result is an elixir which intensifies and concentrates the huge vitamin compounds in the simple orange – vitamin C, folate, vitamin B1, and vitamin A, amongst others.

Drinking this juice is like getting a massive dose of pure, unadulterated love & vitamins – it feels like a supercharged vitamin shot. It goes through you, and suddenly you feel… warm, strong, steady. Full of energy. Nurtured and supported. Its wonderful as a tonic against the cold winter months. And for those with lowered immune systems, or who are recovering from an illness – it is perfect. The gentle application of heat and steam concentrates all the natural goodness in an orange, and give you a massive dose of feel good love. Making this juice for yourself once or twice a week will up your strength and stamina, and will boost your immune system and vital functions.

Its a wonderful gift, because its so easy to make. And it makes you feel so good.

So even though I cant give you your very own Mak Manja, I can give you her recipe. Make it for yourself when you are feeling in need of strengthening and comfort, or better yet, make it for someone you love.

Take one orange. Or two if theyre quite small.

Peel the orange, but leave a little bit of the white pith on. Not all of it, mind you, but may be about half.

Put the orange in a mug. Squish it down. With a knife, make a little hole at the top of the orange, and stuff a few pieces of rock sugar into the orange. If you dont have rock sugar, its OK. Use brown sugar – half a teaspoon or so. Squish the orange down if its small, and add another and repeat.

Cover the mug tightly. I used a little soy sauce dish because it fit exactly, but you could use some aluminum foil. Put the covered mug in a pot which has a lid.

Pour room temperature water into the pot, about half to three quarters of the way up the mug.

Cover the pot, and place over medium low heat on the stovetop. The water will take a while to come to the boil. When it does, turn the heat down to the lowest you can go, and let it simmer for a minimum of two hours, and up to four or five, or even more. Check and top up the water every hour or two. You could also make this in a slow cooker, or in the oven, but I prefer over the stovetop, because thats how I learned it 🙂

Once you have grown tired of waiting for the orange to steam (I usually get impatient by the three hour mark or so), then switch off the heat. Let the water (which should be bubbling) calm down a bit. Use kitchen gloves or a very thick kitchen towel, and lift the mug out of the water. Remove the cover of the mug. You will have very soft, tender oranges, in their own liquid.

Place a sieve over a bowl, and pour the entire contents of the mug into the sieve.

Use a spatula or spoon to mash the orange – it will be spectacularly soft and yielding. Try and mash as much juice out of the steamed orange as possible.

Pour the juice into a glass (it wont be boiling hot – but it will be quite warm), and sip slowly. Drink your fill of love, healing and strength.

Essia’s Spinach Pie

14 Sep

Spinach PieTomorrow, Z’s first and greatly beloved au pair, Essia is leaving to go home to Germany. Essia has become part of the family, and today was one of those days of laughter and memory, tears and bittersweet melancholy. Its a time of change, not just for Z,  but for M + B who watch their surrogate daughter leave with ache and love. I think its easier for babies … they love those who love them. Z is adjusting well to Julia, her new love… For the adults though… We have been through partings before, and we know the heart soreness that accompanies leave taking. We understand that change is a part of life, that loving and loss are intertwined. We accept it, but its difficult. It hurts.

And there is not much that makes it better. We just have to live through it, and be thankful for knowing and loving one another. Essia is a special, bright and beautiful young woman, and her departure from this home will be felt deep down in its bones. But she will always be connected to Z, to us, to this family. We know that too, and we look forward to the joy of seeing each other once again.

There isnt much that makes it better… but I can do the one thing I always do, during times of celebration and times of sorrow. I cook. So I made Essia dinner. At her request, Trader Joe’s Truffle brownies (which I jacked up a bit with a sinful amount of white and milk chocolate and some coffee from the pot). And this spinach pie. It was at once rich and comforting, and hopefully conveyed how much we love Essia and will miss her. Sometimes I am not good with words. Sometimes, when I want to offer a hug, I replace it with a pie. I did that here and I hope Essia knows how much she is beloved.

This spinach pie had a secret ingredient. Underneath the spinach layer, I added caramelised onions, simmered in olive oil and balsamic, and a touch of sugar. The onions softened the spinach and made the pie take on layers of love and missing. This pie made me happy too because it had the beautiful greens of the end of summer – when baked in the oven, the spinach goes dark emerald green. So gorgeous. With it, I served a simple salad of raw white corn, fresh and sweet, with chopped carrots and minced garlic chives and wheat grass. A simple balsamic vinaigrette just to bind the flavors. It was the perfect sunshiney juxtaposition to the pie.

As we sat around the table and remembered life together, knowing that tomorrow will bring leave-taking, we were joined by our communal meal. It was such an honour to be able to provide it, not just for Essia, but for M as well.

This pie will serve 6 – 8 people. I made it in a spring form cake pan (9 3/4″) but you can make it in a pie or tart pan if you like. I have also notated how to make this pie vegan – a few simple switches between butter and margarine for the crust, and soy creamer / coconut milk with the spinach. Enjoy with those you love.

Crust

  • 1 1/2 cups flour
  • 1/2 cup grated cheddar or ground almonds or walnuts
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 1/2 tsp oregano
  • 1/2 cup (1 stick) butter or Earth Balance margarine (or other vegetable shortening), frozen or very cold from the fridge
  • 1 egg (optional)
  • 1 – 2 tbsp ice cold water (for vegan version, if needed for vegetarian version)

In a small bowl, toss together the flour, cheddar (or ground nuts), salt and oregano. Grate the frozen butter (or shortening) over, and toss lightly with your fingers. The mixture should resemble oatmeal.

If you are making the vegetarian version, beat the egg lightly and mix into the flour mixture until the dough comes together. If you are cooking vegan, add the ice water, and combine until the dough comes together.

Preheat your oven to 200C (400F)

Refrigerate for at least ten minutes to let the dough rest.

Once the dough has had some time relaxing in the fridge, take it out and roll out on a clean surface. Transfer to your baking tin, and make sure the edges are even. Using the tines of a fork, poke multiple holes in the dough, making sure to go up the sides!

Bake in the oven for 15 – 20 minutes, or until the crust has browned well. Set aside to cool.

Filling – Caramelised Onions

  • 3 tbsp olive oil (plus, if you have it, some truffle oil for added richness and depth of flavour)
  • 1 large Vidalia onion, sliced into thin rings
  • Salt and pepper to taste
  • 1 tsp light brown sugar (or agave syrup if you are vegan)
  • 3 – 5 tbsp balsamic vinegar (or wine if you like)
  • Water

In a large, non stick pan, over medium heat, sautee the onions in the olive oil until they begin to soften. Season with salt and pepper, sprinkle over the sugar and a few tablespoons of balsamic, and bring the heat up to high. Cover the onions completely with water, and let the mixture come to a boil. Reduce the heat to low, and let the onions simmer until all the water has been incorporated, at least 15 minutes or so.

Taste. Sometimes, if I want a deeper darker flavour (as I did here) I will do this a second time, adding more balsamic and more water, and simmering down again. The first time you go through this process, you will have quite distinct rings of caramelised onion. If you do it a second time, you will have almost jammy caramelised onion, sweet and thick and almost like a sauce. Thats what I wanted, so thats what I did. I leave it to you to decide depending on your sense of taste, and occasion.

Once the onions are to your liking, set aside.

Filling – Spinach

  • 2 tbsp olive oil
  • 4 – 5 cloves of garlic, sliced
  • 6 cups raw spinach, chopped
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 1/2 tsp pepper
  • 1/2 tsp paprika
  • 1/2 cup “cream” (and by this I mean: half and half or sour cream or ricotta or soy milk creamer or cream of coconut or almond milk or … well, you get the idea. You can mix as well – so a bit of half and half with ricotta, etc. Just decide what you like and add about half a cup)
  • 1/2 cup parmesan (optional)

In a pan or saucepan, heat the olive oil and saute the garlic until just softened, over medium high heat. Add the spinach, and stir until it wilts. You dont want to over cook it, but you do want to encourage it to let go of its liquid. Season with salt, pepper and paprika.

Set a sieve over a bowl, and transfer the spinach to the sieve. Let the water drip through for about 5 minutes or so. You can encourage it by pressing down on the spinach solids. Discard the water, and transfer the spinach to the bowl. Add the cream, and taste. Adjust seasonings.

Using an immersion blender (or transfer to a blender or food processor), cream the spinach well. You want it to emulsify, and you want the garlic and spinach to combine completely. It does not need to be totally liquidised… I quite like it a bit chunky.

Add parmesan if you are using, and taste again for seasoning. You could add some chili flakes if you like a bit of a kick. Set aside.

Assembly

  • Prebaked pie crust
  • Caramelised onions
  • 1/2 cup of grated cheddar (totally optional – if you are vegan, you could use the wonderful Daiya melting cheese)
  • Spinach

Preheat the oven to 190C (375F).

Spread the caramelised onions all over the base of the pie crust. If you are using, sprinkle about half the grated cheddar over. Pour the spinach into the pie shell, and sprinkle with the rest of the cheddar.

Bake in the oven for 45 minutes or longer. The pie is done when it no longer wobbles ferociously when shaken 😉 or when a knife inserted into the spinach comes out clean.

Let rest for at least 15 minutes before serving. I prefer this at room temperature or even cold.

Eat with love and loved ones. Enjoy the time you have together!