Four

Four quite random, nature-inspired things:

1. I found a small, injured rainbow lorikeet hiding under a bush in the garden. Its foot was mangled, and it was being chased by bearded dragons (and maybe our chickens). I tried to catch it to take it inside, but good gracious! They’re so feisty! And by the time I went inside to find an old cloth nappy to wrap it up in (and to stop it from biting me as I caught it), the little bird had crawled off into the bush. I’ve worried about it all week.
2. Our gorgeous fresh-laid eggs are being stolen by crows. They sit like vultures, high in the trees above the coop, and wait for our little hens to leave their new egg unattended; then swoop in, (and believe it or not) to pick the eggs up and fly over the fence to relative safety. I’ve watched them peck a hole in the top of the egg to suck all the egg-y goodness from within; and once they’re done, the dragons amble in to take care of the shell. This week has seen me hover every time one of our hens is laying, which sometimes puts them off. I’ve also been practicing my scare!-protect!-save! mode, by running outside, arms a-flailing, shouting at the rush of black wings as they laugh into the sky.
3. I’m feeling the need for a large dose of motivation to inspire me back into the garden. I had the grandest plan to don large straw hats and gardening gloves, and spend late afternoons pottering and planting and pulling and preparing. The plan also included the creation of the most amazing kitchen garden – a natural delight that nourished us and made us feel all at one with the earth. So far, I’ve made a whole heap of origami seed pots, planted tiny lettuce, tomato and cucumber seeds, watered a few times, and then promptly abandoned about our fledgling crop. And now, as the days fly by, I watch as the weeds strangle the established plants that are digging their heels in and refusing to die. So, in a show of defiance to my sad case of laziness, I bought new gloves. And with pen in hand this afternoon, I’m sketching out a new plan for our kitchen garden and starting again.
4. We have the strangest, most prehistoric plant in our garden (I have no idea what it is), that has been growing the tallest ‘shoot’ (for want of a better word) from its centre. Judah has taken to calling the plant his ‘beanstalk’ because when you stand beneath it, the shoot appears to reach all the way to the clouds – it really is quite remarkable. This week, it began to bloom: delicate, orchid-like flowers in pale lemon yellow; and as they seem to flower only for a day before dropping, our pathway is just filled with them. It’s such a stark contrast to the severity of the plant – the sharp lines and striking leaves - and it has seen me stop a few times this week to gaze up and admire its natural contrast.

Do you have four things to share too?

Nat

Marvellously moreish muffins

Rainy or overcast days seem to require baking, and these have quickly become my absolute favourite to make – they’re deliciously wonderful and smell amazing fresh out of the oven...

Roasted nectarine, ricotta and honey muffins

Makes 12

1 ½ cups self-raising flour

½ tsp bicarbonate of soda

½ cup brown sugar

½ cup olive oil

1 egg, lightly whisked

¾ cup milk

125g fresh ricotta

½ cup honey

3 ripe nectarines, stone removed and sliced

2 tbs olive oil, extra

1 tbs brown sugar, extra

Method:

Preheat oven to 180°C. Line a 12 cup capacity muffin tray with paper muffin cases or lightly grease if non-stick.  In a small bowl, combine nectarine slices, and the extra olive oil and brown sugar. Toss to coat evenly, then spread over a lined oven tray. Bake until golden and soft. Set aside to cool slightly.

Combine flour, bicarbonate of soda,  and sugar in a bowl; make a well in the centre. In a separate bowl, combine honey, milk, olive oil, and egg. Pour into the well, and stir gently to combine. Fluff the ricotta and add gently to the muffin mix.

Spoon the mixture evenly among the muffin cases. Push a couple of slices of nectarine into each muffin, and then arrange the remaining slices on the top. Bake for 15 minutes, or until the top of the muffin springs back slightly when gently prodded. Remove from the oven, and set aside to cool slightly.

Enjoy the gorgeous warm honey smell as it fills up your kitchen. Muffins best savoured with a nice cup of tea in a pretty cup, and a lovely, quiet, sunny garden spot.

Nat

 

Point and Shoot: Our blooming kitchen garden

Our kitchen garden is all in bloom at the moment – I’m excited to be finding new growth daily, and so glad that all our hard work is starting to show signs of a harvest…

Our wild cherry tomato bush is budding with new fruits and sweet yellow flowers…

The strawberries are beginning to flower and ripen…

...and the gourmet beefsteak tomatoes are starting to get a rosy blush to their skin!

All our herbs are flourishing, and I’ve been using/experimenting with them in my cooking…

...and our fruiting trees are laden with goodness (thanks to a previous owner who had a taste for the exotic). But the best thing about our garden today? After nearly 20 metres of pesky vines, dozens of sunny flowers, and by allowing a total freedom in direction, I found two baby pumpkins this morning - one hiding under leaves near the fence, and another 10 metres away, hanging from an out-of-control bougainvillea (I may have squealed with delight)!

 

What did you do this weekend?

Nat

Ps. Want to play Point and Shoot too? Find out more here.

Cool, calm and collected in the kitchen

Every time I look at these cards, it makes me feel like baking.
In my imagination, my fake self is baking ridiculously beautiful cakes and tarts, wearing a sweet frilled apron and high heels, and has perfectly coiffed hair. The kitchen is gleaming, the children are clean and sweet as sugar, I'm multi-tasking like a professional, and even manage to sit down (daintily) for a cup of real tea in a china tea cup.
You can see it too, right?

Available in our Etsy shop now!

Nat