Fig Jam and Lime Cordial

When Pete and I met our new friend Valentina recently, she paid us a lovely compliment. She thought we were dating. It’s nice to be thought of as new lovers, when in reality, we’re very, very old ones.

Some of you will have seen this photo before. When it was taken in 1984, we were just 19 years old, and we’d been together for about six months. Since our engagement in 1986, I can count on one hand (ok, maybe two) the number of days we’ve been apart. We spend a lot of time together – much more than most married couples – and yet we’ve never tired of each other’s company, or felt the need for “alone” time.

If I was ever asked what I have to show for my life – this is the first thing I would offer. Our close, loving relationship has survived the many obstacles life has thrown at us. It hasn’t been easy, but over our 32 years together, we’ve grown closer than we ever thought possible. This has been my life’s work. It gives meaning and structure to my existence. It defines me.

 . . . . .

And then, there are these two.

Our sons make me so happy that sometimes I think my heart will burst. Even as young adults, they constantly delight us, and I’m always amazed by how sophisticated and varied their daily conversations can be.

Big Boy has a razor sharp wit and a backbone of steel, tempered with loving, gentle kindness. Small Man is quirky, enthusiastic, and ever so slightly brilliant. We found out the other day that he’s taught himself the Cyrillic alphabet and is currently learning Japanese Kanji (for fun).

Our parenting goal has never been to raise academically or fiscally successful children. We’ve never pushed them to excel at sports or music, nor have we intervened in their choice of friends. Instead, we’ve worked hard to ensure they have healthy self-esteems, respectful attitudes towards others, and kind, compassionate natures.

Along the way, we’ve celebrated their individuality – our children are so much more than mere byproducts of our genetic mingling. They have their own distinct personalities and opinions, and a unique outlook on the world. I will often turn to them for perspective and advice.

Every aspect of our family dynamic – the laughing, crying, talking, debating, cooking, eating, teaching, sitting, driving, watching, holding, comforting, nurturing, sharing, rejoicing – all these glorious moments, which even at the worst of times were glorious by virtue of the fact that we were all together – these are the moments which define me. These are the things that I measure myself on.

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There are other things too.

From a very young age, I’ve needed to make things with my hands. It used to drive Pete crazy, but because he’s a saint, he soon became very adept at finding ways to store the paraphernalia associated with my various hobbies.

My enthusiasms have always been a big part of who I am, and the satisfaction I get from creating something from raw materials is enormous. It really doesn’t matter whether it’s a vintage crystal spider, or a loaf of bread, or a polarfleece jacket pieced together from scrap.

Recently, the sourdough mania has taken on a life of its own.

It has become so much more than simply turning flour and water into food. Baking bread has led to friendships within my immediate community and, through the sharing of Priscilla, with a world-wide family of sourdough bakers. It has enabled me to connect with like-minded individuals around the globe in a meaningful, rewarding way.

To a large extent, I believe we’re all defined by our human interactions. My immediate and extended family are amazing, as are my wonderful all-weather friends (I don’t need just fair or foul weather ones). They enrich my life, and I treasure them greatly.

And over the years, this blog, and my interactions with all of you, has become a large part of who I am and how I see myself. I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but I work very hard not to promote Fig Jam and Lime Cordial. I’ve basically ignored all those articles on “how to have a successful blog” – I don’t tag my posts, I don’t attend blogger functions, I don’t stay on topic. So I know that any of you who read my ramblings, or even more generously, take the time to comment, have found your way here because you’re genuinely interested in what I have to say. For that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

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As our close friends know, bits of our life are hard at the moment. That’s not surprising – very few people make it to their 50s without trials and challenges along the way. But these difficulties rarely make it onto our blog – not because I wish to present a glossied up version of our lives – but because I refuse to let them define who I am. Yes, things do get a bit tricky at times, and some days that can feel overwhelming, but right now, at this moment in time, life is grand.

This moment, as I sit here in the quiet of an early Sunday morning, scribbling on a scrap of paper, sipping hot chocolate, listening to the hum of the oven, feeling the warmth of the gas heater, watching my dough rise – this moment is perfect. And really, this moment is all we ever have – it’s our only reality.

. . . . .

I believe…that we need to make conscious choices about what we allow to define us. And that if we take our measure from the positive things in our lives rather than the negative ones, we’re far more likely to find enduring happiness and contentment.

I’d love to know what defines you. If you’re inclined to share, please feel free to leave as long (or as short) a comment below as you wish. ♥

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On Friday night, I sat down at the dining room table and wired up crystal angels.

Over the years, I’ve made hundreds of these, and being able to create something with my hands always soothes my soul. Some of these vintage Swarovski stones date from as early as 1935. It had been a long week, and I needed the time out…

Big Boy, bless his heart, saw what I was doing and offered to cook dinner. He made a completely delicious tuna and lemon pasta, which looked almost exactly like this (I didn’t take a photo). It was an excellent start to the weekend…

. . . . .

On Saturday morning, the lovely Ella Dee, her hubby the Gorgeous One, and I went to Eveleigh Markets to visit Beth from Burrawong Gaian. This high end producer of pasture raised poultry was having its first stall at the markets, and ED and I were keen to meet Beth in person. Needless to say, she was every bit as gorgeous as we’d expected…

Burrawong Gaian were offering poussins, poultry pieces, as well as confit duck rillettes and an assortment of homemade pâtés. I bought a bag of pasture raised chicken wings and four duck marylands…

. . . . .

At the markets, I had a great conversation with the folks from Olsson’s Salts.

It always surprises me how many people don’t know about Olsson’s. They’re Australia’s oldest family owned salt producer and their sea salt is harvested via solar evaporation from the Great Australian Bight and (I think) far north Queensland.

Most of the salt I use in cooking and bread baking is made by Olsson’s – I buy it in 1kg bags from Chinese grocers for just $2. That’s a ridiculously cheap price compared to most imported salts. For some reason, they’re not available in the big supermarkets, although the lovely lady at the markets did tell me that Olsson’s are the producers behind Aldi’s homebrand salt.

I particularly like their Pure Cooking Sea Salt because, unlike many table salts, it doesn’t contain any anti-caking agents…

To support them, and because it tasted delicious, I bought a bag of their macrobiotic sea salt ($7). We’ll use it as table salt…

. . . . .

Another superb Eveleigh find – a charming bearded hipster sold me this bottle of Serious Deliria cold brewed coffee concentrate. It’s incredibly smooth – the cold processing over 12- 20 hours greatly reduces the acidity in the finished product. It also concentrates the caffeine, which means I can only have tiny sips of it.

Big Boy and Monkey Girl however, are all over this. It makes the best ice coffee ever…

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After my morning visit to Eveleigh, Pete and I raced out to Annandale to check out the biannual Artisan craft market. There I finally met the irrepressible Valentina Jones and her adorable hubby Peter (we’ve followed each other on social media for some time now). We took this photo just for you, Jaqi…

Val is a graphic designer and ceramic artist. Here are a few of her quirky, extremely appealing cake stands…

I came home with a couple of her vintage china pendants – I love it when upcycling is done so well…

A few more pics from the Artisan markets…

I took this photo as we left, which was nearly at closing time. When we arrived an hour earlier, the place was packed…

. . . . .

For dinner on Saturday night, we ate Beth’s chicken wings in a chipotle chilli barbecue sauce…

Earlier that afternoon, I’d been given a fior di latte (fresh mozzarella) ball by my friend Dotti at the Paesanella cheese shop. It was approaching its expiry date, so I used it to make Nagi’s crack bread…

. . . . .

On Sunday morning, I had my usual quiet potter in the kitchen.

I experimented with baking my sourdough loaf upside down (seam side up) rather than slashing it, to allow it to burst naturally. I was quite happy with the result…

. . . . .

Pete and I then popped into the Brewery Yard Markets in Central Park. The weather wasn’t particularly welcoming, and by the time we arrived it was raining quite steadily. They were fun markets to visit though – our steampunk jewellery friends from Times Flys were there, along with another twenty or so speciality stalls.

I thought these wrapped hanging succulent balls were great fun. Hilary from Tiny Paradise teaches classes in making them if anyone is interested (her IG feed is @tiny.paradise)…

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Hope you all had a brilliant weekend as well! ♥

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These little leather shoes are handmade by Lorri from Shu Shu.

I walked past her stall at Paddington Markets a couple of weeks ago and felt an almost irresistible urge to rub the soles of her small creations on my cheeks. And that’s because I’d bought almost exactly the same shoes from her in 1993 for Big Boy when he was learning to walk. The memories were so powerful that I found myself standing at her stall for ages, just holding the shoes in my hands.

I bought a pair for young Evan. They’re the only thing he keeps on now…

Lorri has a workshop in Summer Hill and we both drink at Marty’s bar. How cool is that?

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Also at the markets were these gorgeous steampunk owls created by Juan and Olivia of Time Flies Designs. You might remember that I bought Pete’s birthday present from them a few weeks ago (photo below from their website)…

I’m really happy to support such a nice young couple, so I bought two of their owls ($30 each) for upcoming birthday gifts. Each one has a pewter body and slightly different eyes made from antique watch parts. I think their goal of upcycling beautiful but broken old things into beautiful new things is worth supporting, and I love their aesthetic.

There are a couple of owls for sale on their website, but if you’re interested, give Juan a call as he has many more designs available and can probably send you photos of them…

. . . . .

It’s a busy time of year here, and the weather is cold and miserable. Still, I’m meeting up with friends tomorrow, which will be huge fun! What do you have planned for the weekend?

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Sunday mornings are a quiet time at our house.

I’m almost always up early (thank you, perimenopausal hormones). Yesterday I unstacked the dishwasher, scrubbed the cooktop, baked lunch rolls, made a second batch of dough, hemmed pants, repaired the dirty laundry bag, washed two loads of clothes, and swept the floor. I’m often at my most productive before 9am, and at that time of the morning, domestic busyness never feels like a chore.

Once the kitchen was tidy and the rolls were in the oven, I made myself a small pot of hot chocolate and sat down to sip it out of a tiny sake cup. The drink was made by blitzing 30g of Amedei chocolate in boiling water in the funky little jug that Kavey sent me from London. The cup is a Paddington Markets find – it was made by artist Samantha Robinson in nearby Alexandria. It’s only big enough for a few sips, but the ritual of pouring, sipping, and pouring again was comforting and meditative…

As I opened the linen closet to put folded towels away, I noticed that the red glow from an electrical panel was illuminating the one litre bottle of Grey Goose vodka I’d bought from Costco. In the 6am darkness of the hallway, it was quite ethereal…

The lunch rolls were Small Man’s favourite – sourdough stuffed with Italian olives and Margaret River cheddar. They turned out well…

. . . . .

On Friday, my lovely neighbour Michelle rang to let me know that baby Evan (11 months old) had been unwell, and that the only thing he would eat was Auntie Celia’s sourdough fruit loaf. No pressure at all, of course, but she also wanted to mention that she was down to her last slice, and there was just the slightest chance that he might starve if I didn’t bake some more.

Ok, she didn’t exactly say that, but I made a loaf for him anyway on Saturday. I’m a sucker for flattery from babies…

. . . . .

On Friday night, we had our winter dinner with old friends Kevin, Carol, Gill and Therese. We get together four times a year, at the beginning of each season. I made lovely Lorraine’s ever reliable brie dip (photo below is prior to baking), substituting Pete’s quince jelly for apricot jam…

We served up our recently made confit duck rillette on grain crackers, topped with cornichons…

The next time I remembered to take a photo was at midnight after everyone left! The glasses went into the dishwasher the following morning (I’ve broken too much stemware to attempt cleaning them at the end of a big night).

Having a Berocca before bed is my personal hangover prevention technique. I truly believes it works, although I was a tad dusty the following morning…

. . . . .

On Sunday, the sun came out to brighten a calm, glorious winter’s day. We went to lunch with my folks, and I took this photo of the kids as we were walking back to the car. My trailing behind photos have always been of our two (the previous ones are here and here), but now there are three. The adorable Monkey Girl joined us for lunch – we love her to bits…

. . . . .

After the big hailstorm, our garden is starting to grow back. The lemon tree is doing brilliantly at the moment…

…and we were able to harvest enough newly grown broccoli raab to make dinner last night…

My clever Pete has a deft touch with this style of pasta.

To a large pot of well salted boiling water, we added the roughly chopped raab and the sliced green portion of a small perennial leek. The water was then brought back to the boil and the dried pasta added. As it cooked, we fried up the leftover confit duck rillette (including all the fat) in a little butter with sliced garlic, chilli flakes and the chopped white portion of the leek. These were cooked gently (so that the garlic didn’t brown), and then the drained pasta and greens were added to the pot. Finally, a little of the boiling water was added and the dish was seasoned to taste.

I didn’t think it needed Parmesan cheese…

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As always, weekends are too short! How was yours?

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The most attractive photo ever taken of my feet. Seriously.

I don’t have great feet.

Hmmm…let me go back a step.

I don’t have any fashion sense. My lack of it has been known to make my poor mother weep. My sister Cynthia, on the other hand, is stylish enough to grace the cover of magazines. And as anyone who has a sister knows, they’re incredibly loving (if we’re lucky) and usually brutally honest. When she was fifteen (I was eighteen), my darling sister looked at my feet and exclaimed…”Gross! You have hobbit feet!” Tragically, she was right. They’re wide, flat and fat. I spent years squishing them into shoes that didn’t fit.

Fast forward to my forties, and I found myself with foot and knee problems. After a stern warning from my friend Lisa (“Celia, you don’t want to be having ankle surgery at seventy!”), I trotted off to see a podiatrist. And so it was that I found myself sitting in the waiting room at the Institute of Sport in Homebush…

It was an hilarious experience.

I was in the waiting room, sitting between an Olympic hurdler and Australian football legend Willie Mason, feeling just a teensy bit out of place. It was worth it though, because we now have the best podiatrist in the world. If you’re in Sydney and you need to see one, we can’t recommend Richard Windybank highly enough. He’s one of the nicest people ever. More to the point, he’s extremely good at his job, and he won’t rip you off. The orthotic supports he made for Small Man and me weren’t cheap, but they’ve lasted for years and years (thankfully Small Man’s feet stopped growing when he was fourteen).

. . . . .

So…now I’m fifty. And I’ve been back to see Richard, because I’ve buggered my right foot. As you might recall, I’ve spent a lot of time walking around Sydney in the past month. It was late autumn and quite cold, so I pulled out my winter boots, only to find that the soles had worn through completely. So I dug up an old pair of boots, squished my orthotics into those, then squished my feet in. And walked, and walked, and walked.

Now I have bursitis in my foot, plus a possible (but very unlikely) stress fracture. It’s ok really, it will heal, and I’m not in much pain. Given that I was a doofus, I think I actually got off lightly. And it’s probably a good thing, because it’s refocused my attention again on the importance of decent footwear.

If you have hobbit feet, even though my beloved cackling sister insists that hobbits don’t wear shoes, you might find the Naot and Ziera brands comfortable. The Naot Allegro range has a really wide footbed, with a removable cork innersole that leaves a deep enough depression to fit my orthotic insert into…

I buy my shoes online from the lovely folks at Naot of Kew in Melbourne. The sizing is blessedly consistent, which means I can order the same size and know that they will fit me every time. They’re not the prettiest footwear, but as I said, I really don’t have enough  fashion sense to be troubled by it…

My latest discovery, on the advice of a podiatrist friend over drinks in Marty’s bar, is the Ziera brand. Formerly Kumfs, this NZ company changed its dowdy name but kept its comfortable shoe range. They have an amazing returns policy – if the shoes aren’t comfortable, you have 30 days to return them for an exchange or refund, even if they’ve been worn. These boots (Savvy) look a bit like school shoes, but they’re incredibly soft, fit my orthotics and don’t cause me pain…

Better still, they were heavily marked down at the Ziera clearance store in the nearby Birkenhead Point Outlet Centre.

So that’s where I’m at. Richard is making me new orthotics, I’m icing my foot (with ice, not icing sugar), and washing down Voltaren with sidecar cocktails (which I believe is contraindicated). But I now have proper hobbit shoes, so I’m completely happy.

If you have any hobbit footwear advice, I’d be most grateful for it! Thanks! ♥

PS. No affiliation whatsoever with the Sydney Sports Medicine Centre, Naot, Ziera, or Tolkein.

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