The Urban Hunter Gatherer

Thursday, June 26, 2014

LEMON CURD

A jar of deliciousness with a rustic homemade loaf. A big warm hug in depths of winter. UHG

As we enter the teeth of our grey and soggy winter, the beaming yellow lemons on my tree reminds me that everything is going to be ok; that the sun will shine again…

Lemons, a reason to be bright Mans

Shop-bought ones are just not the same Mans

I love the lemons on my tree; they are not like those perfect ones without pips that you buy at the posh supermarkets. You know the ones that come in a fancy plastic packet that are all the same shape and size, that have a waxy sheen and a disappointing amount of juice. The ones off my tree are grizzled and gnarled, tiny and huge, peppered with pips and pregnant with juice.

During the next few months, I bet you that some South African gardens will be littered with rotting knobbly ones, waiting to be squelched between someone’s unsuspecting toes, while inside the same homes are bowls of boring shop-bought ones displayed on dining room tables. I dare you to own up if that’s you! I promise you won’t get into trouble…

Loads of juice… Mans

Try this delicious lemon curd recipe. It even works with the clones, devoid of any character.

What you need

- - juice of about 5 lemons (about 250ml)

- - zest of 1 lemon (optional)

- - 500g of white sugar

- - 4 or 5 eggs; whisked (depending on size – what happened to small, medium, and large? It’s just large, extra large and jumbo these days. Hmmmm?)

- - 125g butter

What to do

Chuck all the ingredients into a double boiler on a medium heat. Stir continuously until the mixture thickens and coats the back of a spoon. Take it off the heat and cool immediately in a bowl of ice (you don’t want scrambled eggs, do you?) For extra smoothness you might want to strain the mixture through a sieve, but only if you want. Bottle in sterilized jars. Store in the fridge and chomp within a couple of weeks. You should get about 2 x 450ml jars of deliciousness.

Grizzled, gnarled, knobbly and bursting with juice. Mans

Finally – check out an old blog of mine about my beloved lemon tree. http://theurbanhuntergatherer.blogspot.com/2012/09/living-under-lemon-tree.html. Definitely my most daring one. What was I thinking… what am I thinking now?

Thursday, June 05, 2014

KEI APPLES (SPIKY SEASON PART 3)

Kei Apples UHG

Those of you who know me or have been following my blog will know that I’m a chronic attention seeker. I just cant seem to help myself. When I went to collect some Kei apples from a spot I have been told about my excitement started to bubble like fruit in a jam pot, as I saw an opportunity to show off. I know that you won’t believe me, but the only ripe fruit that hadn’t already been plucked from the tree was out of reach, so to collect a bowl of fruit required some sign climbing. The showing off was incidental, or at least that's the story I’m sticking to.

My new and exciting secret spot, just don't tell anybody Laura

'Mind the gap' Laura

The 'proper' name for Kei apples is Dovyalis Caffra. ‘The pejorative botanical term ‘caffre’ invokes the history of colonization on the frontier of the Cape colony. This fruit is indigenous to southern and eastern Africa and ‘Kei’ apples draw their name from the river in the Eastern Cape, which marked the boundary of the conquered territories for much of the nineteenth century.’ So writes our resident historian and in this case part time photographer, Dr Laura Evans. They are known in isiXhosa as umkokola.

Kei apricots? UHG

Sticking with the spiky season theme, Kei apples are fiercely guarded by their vicious thorns, and the branches were/ are used as barriers to contain livestock and to keep intruders out. The fruit is more like an apricot than an apple in appearance, texture and flavor. If picked fresh they are mouth-puckeringly sour and unless perfectly ripe are challenging to chomp without a crinkled face. You might think that simply poached in sugar and water they would make a fine and simple dessert, but, as I found out, this is not so. After only a few minutes of cooking they seem to collapse into an orangey mush, so they are best suited for jams, jellies and syrups. If eaten fresh, try them quartered and sprinkled with sugar. I might add that the pips add a crunchy pop, which is rather fun.

Not the same tree! UHG

Spiky season UHG

Ready for jamming UHG

Friday, May 09, 2014

CHESTNUTS (THE SPIKY SEASON PART 2)

Castanea Sativa (Spanish Chestnuts) are the original castanets, but they are also delicious UHG

As this year’s prickly pears begin to disappear, the chestnuts, num nums and kei-apples are in full swing. It seems that autumn is not only mushroom season in Cape Town, but also ‘the spiky season’.

For some folks chestnuts are a nuisance UHG

Foraging for chestnuts is a lot less hard-core than a prickly pear mission, but it is for this reason that the competition is stronger. The squirrels are in a league of their own, but there are plenty of other people who know just how delicious these nuts are. Members of the Asian community in Cape Town are particularly fond of chestnuts and for good reason. If you stumble upon some that are ripe for the picking, then pick them! …Because it’s unlikely they’ll be around the next day. On my recent forage, a kindly Korean couple, having got there before me, took pity on me with my empty basket and shared their harvest.

Inside the spiky pod are nuggets of yumminess Mans

The chestnuts you want are on the ground, the pods turning brown where they have started to split. You can easily prize them open with your feet and carefully remove the shiny brown nubbins of deliciousness with your fingers. Once you have a full bowl in your kitchen, don’t leave them hanging about as they need to be used quickly to do them the justice they deserve.

Aaaah! Now I know why some horses are described as chestnut colour UHG

Isn't that a comforting site? The smell is warm and cosy too UHG

Boil, roast in the oven or in a dry pan or, best of all, roast them over some glowing wood embers. Just remember to cut a cross in each one to avoid them exploding all over the show. If you get a perfectly ripe one and do a good job of cooking it, the bitter pith is easy to remove. But I don’t get too fussy about all that: I peel what comes off easily and ignore the rest. The comforting smell of chestnuts happily roasting is like a giant reassuring hug and when you pop one in your mouth they are rich, nutty and sweet. If you want to get all cheffy, try finely slicing them raw and use as a garnish.

How the squirrels get to the nuts is a mystery! UHG

If you get to the tree first, your baskets will be laden UHG

A nubbin of butter and a sprinkle of salt and pepper is all that is needed UHG

I'm already looking forward to next autumn Mans

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

PRICKLY PEARS ARE NOT FOR SISSIES (THE SPIKY SEASON PART 1)

These little blighters are delicious, but uncompromising UHG

My first meeting with prickly pears was when my friend Moose and I saw a whole lot of ripe ones clinging to a cactus on the side of the road. In a cloud of dust we pulled over and enthusiastically started plucking the fruit. Our enthusiasm stopped about as quickly as the car did, we had become instant human pincushions. The obvious needle-like spikes are a hazard, but it’s the tiny, almost invisible hairs that do the real damage. If you look carefully you’ll notice a little explosion of fine prickles, as the fruit breaks free from the plant when it is plucked. Even wearing full protective regalia, these little fuckers are neigh impossible to avoid. After a long session of removing the nastiest spikes and a fraction of the multiple little hairs, Moose suggested that we should pass the rest of the day away by rolling in a big pile of fiberglass.

Stef the master of 'The Schnabber' UHG

Twenty years and lots and lots of foraging later, I decided it was time to try to pick a few again, this time with Stef as my accomplice. He had told me that his father used to pick them with a special picker, so we fashioned one, which we called ‘The Schnabber'. Armed with protective kit and ‘The Schnabber’ we bravely set off for our local prickly pear cactus, which was dripping with swollen fruit. At first ‘The Schnabber’ seemed useless, until Stef exclaimed, “I perfected the technique!” No sooner had he said this, than he accidently tipped one from a height onto my head. Wearing a prickly pear briefly as a hat instantly doubled my hair-count on my balding noggin for a few days, but I would think very carefully if you were considering this method of instant hair transplant.

Schnabber technique is required UHG

Intrepid Stef complete with 'The Schnabber' UHG

So be warned there are bound to be a few minor casualties (at the least) when foraging for prickly pears. Having said that, there is no doubt that come the end of summer next year, the intrepid Stef and I will be ‘schnabbing’ again… but it is not everyone’s cup of tea.

Plump little flavour bombs UHG

The essential kit, including tweezers UHG

Stef making a a fine prickly pear syrup UHG

Monday, February 17, 2014

THE DELICIOUS MONSTER

A relaxed vibe at The Delicious Monster - We are getting closer to opening……. Lauren

Some of you may be wondering whatever happened to Stef and my ‘café style’ deli called ‘Sour Fig’, which I wrote a blog about a while back. Well, the name has been abandoned, but not the project. We are incrementally still plodding along on our mission, when time and funds are available. We are delighted to announce the quirky new name is ‘THE DELICIOUS MONSTER’, named after the rather yummy fruit, which is common in many of our suburban gardens, yet is seldom eaten.

We are not open for business yet, but we have hosted a few events in the style that we are hoping to operate, which is to be as sustainable as possible. We intend to use locally grown (within the neighborhood) and foraged produce where possible. We also have a zero waste policy.

Our visiting academic friend Lauren Biermann gave us a good kick up the butt (which we so richly deserved to get our shit together) when she suggested we host a farewell party for her and about 40 foodie friends at the Delicious Monster. The deal was that she would cover the cost of the meal as well as cover the event with her wonderful photographic skills: a deal we were all happy with.

Just as were scratching our heads about what the menu should be, the familiar squawk of a ‘vuzuzela’ came up with the answer. You see, in Walmer Estate, the neighborhood of The Delicious Monster’ there is a traditional ‘Snoek (a local and sustainable fish) bakkie’ (pick up truck) that does its rounds selling fresh fish to the residents. The ‘vuzuzela’ (a plastic horn made famous / infamous during the FIFA Football World Cup in South Africa) has replaced a piece of dried hollow kelp, which was traditionally blown to let the neighborhood know that snoek was for sale. (See my past snoek blog - http://theurbanhuntergatherer.blogspot.com/2012/08/snoek.html)

Anyhow, back to the menu. So we decided that ‘braaied’ (barbequed) snoek and a vegetarian Bobotie (South Africa’s national dish) would be a great main course. Both dishes are classics of the area.

THE MENU

Starter:

A Mezze Platter of Foraged Goodies

Bread

Olives

Nasturtium pesto

Pickled pine ring mushrooms

Main:

Braaied Snoek with a gooseberry (from my garden) basting or Bobotie.

Served with -

Samphire

A foraged salad of wild cress, wild sweet peas and sliced bulrush