Summer Bounty

We've now been back in New Zealand for a little over a week and we're slowly settling into the heat and the increased free time we seem to have accumulated. But don't worry, that free time is not going to waste. No Sir. Well, most of it anyhow. We have come back to a country full of ripening fruit and veggies just waiting to be preserved.

The first thing I did when I came back (after unpacking of course) was to call up my Austrian friend, Ursula, and get myself invited over to learn how to make Walnut Liquor using green walnuts. We collected a basket full from her walnut tree out back and she dutifully wrote down the instructions for me to follow at home. This was something totally new for me, so I will have a long wait for the 8 weeks to pass until I can sieve it and give it a try.

On Saturday, Stephen and I got out to our weekly market visit and were absolutely floored by the amount and variety of fruit already ripe. I swear it was at least a couple of weeks later last year. Oh well. We loaded up on cherries (right at the end of their season), apricots (just starting), strawberries, raspberries (from the North Island) and tomatoes (for tasty chutney or relish or both). On the way home we came across several plum trees dripping with fruit so we obliged by lightening the boughs and bringing home our amazing finds.

With the table groaning under the weight of all that fruit we knew we had to get to work. So yesterday afternoon, we cranked out some strawberry and vanilla jam, and some plain old delicious raspberry jam. This morning I made up some plum and star anise jam and this afternoon, we'll make up some tasty cherry jam. The kitchen is sticky with sugar and the house is warm with all that steam filling it up, but our cupboards are filling up with the glimmering jars of jewel toned preserves. Ready to fill our dreary winter with their bright sunshiney tastes.

Walnut Liquor (from Ursula)

2L vodka (38-42%, make sure it's good stuff as the quality of the vodka will directly affect the quality of your finished product)

1 cinnamon stick

35-40 green walnuts (they need to be young enough to that the shell has not started to form inside the meat - you'll know if it has when you cut into them)

1 Tbsp cloves

750g sugar (warmed - place in a cake pan in the oven and heat to ~180 centigrade, stirring evey so often with a spoon to keep it from clumping)

Peel from 2 lemons (keep the pieces large so you can easily fish them out at the end)

Peel from 2 organes (keep the pieces large so you can easily fish them out at the end)

- Chop the walnuts finely

- Place everything in a container (if you use 2L of vodka you should have a 3L container) and cover tightly

- Leave for 8 weeks, shake every so often

And I am not yet sure what you do after 8 weeks, but I will be sure to update you when I learn (in 8 weeks time).

Cheers!

Look what I found

Can you tell what it is? They're really hard to find here in New Zealand and it has been ages since we've eaten any. About two years I suppose. Any ideas?

It's a waffle iron. Waffles are not popular here. In fact, when I excitedly took over a taste of our first waffle to our kiwi neighbours, they had never before tasted waffle. So, where did I find such a desirable beauty? Well, it all started with a trip to the beach.

Saturday morning woke up warm and beautiful, so after a quick trip to the market, we headed back over the hills into Sumner. We met up with some friends there with our swim gear, sun screen and lots of ideas. While Stephen and Gavin grabbed some surf boards and headed out to the waves, Nina and I stripped down to our swim suits and splashed and played in the waves. Body surfing, running in place, trying really, really hard not to swallow any salt water (to no avail). And Matt and Emily watched from the rocky beach, taking pictures and enjoying the heat. After a meander down to the ice cream shop to dry off (and get ice cream obviously) we jumped back into the car and drove home.

On the way home we passed by a little shop that had long intrigued us. We had walked past in once or twice before when it was open and peeked into the darkened door way, glimpsing piles of teetering pots, ragged books and long forgotten toys and tools. Today it was once again open and we had the time. So we screeched to a park and jumped out of the car.

Stepping into this place was like walking into a story book. We emerged from the warm heat of the sunny, summer day to a dimly lit, musty aired, cool room so jam packed full of stuff there was hardly room to stand. We squeezed our way in between glass cases filled with mismatched tea settings and tiny glass figurines, a stuffed lamb with a bow-tie placed on top of a pile of cloth-covered books and a decomposing fish mounted on the wall, piles of records and a strange looking metal contraption on a pillar. Wait - could that be. . .? A waffle iron! A beautiful, round silver waffle iron. A short search brought up a cord, a quick test with an outlet and then the bartering began. After a good barter, a quick trip home and a bike trip back, I eventually wound up with a waffle iron. And this morning we enjoyed a delicious breakfast of tasty waffles with maple syrup, yogurt and fruit salad.

[mmmmmm - waffles]

Godley Head Hike

On Thursday, two days before I head down to Antarctica, I decide the weather is too fine and I will be gone for a while so taking an afternoon off work and packing to go hiking is a great idea.

I had been to the New Zealand Antarctic Clothing distribution centre that morning and had loaded up on down jackets, snow pants, mittens and gloves galore, and boots the size of my head (all of which I'm sure you will see pictures of later). Although there were images of vast expanses of ice and snow floating around in my head, the sun was shining down and the temperature was just wonderful. So on the way back to school as I drove down Memorial Ave. and sighted the Port Hills through the trees, I knew there was only one thing worth doing that afternoon.

I got home from school at around lunch, wolfed down some leftover tourtiere and Stephen and I packed some water and a couple of apples into the bag and headed out the door. The car was warm from soaking up the suns rays all morning, so we were down to our shorts and t-shirts already (especially sitting on our sheep skin seat covers). The drive is about 20 minutes from our house, and the last 10 minutes are the best as it winds along the spine of the ancient volcanic rim covered now with grasses and the odd thistle. We parked at a little pull off before the actual parking lot, where a trail met up with the road briefly before dropping down to the far side of the crater. With our water and my camera over our shoulders, we set forth under the sun.


Walking along the winding trail was wonderful. We watched ships come and go into Lyttleton Harbor, fishing boats being harangued by gulls, little pockets of flowers tucked into the wind protected nooks and crannies between rocks, and absolutely no one else. Half an hour later (I stopped a lot) we came up over a crest and were looking down into the parking lot at Godley Head. Godley Head is an old gun emplacement put there during the second world war to protect Lyttleton Harbor from the enemy. There are old cement bunkers littered all over the place, and down below (where we were heading) there was a small system of caves that went through the cliffs.


We wandered through the three buildings along the trail and then wove our way down towards the sea. Back and forth we followed the switch back track almost to the rocks being blasted by waves at the bottom. Before we could feel the spray however we found the trail disappearing into the hillside. Looking into the darkness, you could see a tiny prick of light at what I presumed was the far end, and little shadows of light trickling in along the entire length. The wind coming from the tunnel was cool on our hot faces and chilled the thin veneer of sweat on my face. I put on my cardigan adn stepped into the cool dark passage. The walls were rough and crumbled when you touched them. Every so often there was a side passage that took you a few meters and opened out to the sea a surprising distance below. At one of the openings we found a small birds nest tucked up into a rocky hole in the wall. Further down a sock lay wet and lonely on the floor.

We emerged minutes later back into the bright sun and onto a hill side covered with daisies, foxgloves and many more flowers. We ate our apples at the end of the trail, a small concrete pillbox nestled safely into the rocky wall of the cliff, and then headed back up the trail.


The return hike was wonderful with a faint wind at our backs helping to push us along the trail. We walked over the top of the rim this time and looked back towards Sumner and Christchurch and further out the Southern Alps as they climbed the back of the South Island. We sprawled out in the grass back at the car and watched the wisps of clouds moving overhead. A wonderful afternoon. But now I was exhausted and had LOTS of work and packing to do (in fact I still do).

One more sleep til I take off for the most southerly continent. I'm both excited and nervous. Lots of work to do there and a completely new experience. I'm sure it will pass by far too quickly and before I know it I'll have only the pictures and stories left. But really, that's all we ever have left from any experience and that's what makes us . . . us.