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Our little Maggie has died.

I doubt I’ll be writing obituaries for all the chickens we’ll ever own, but these first six are special. It’s been an absolute joy to have them in the backyard, and the time spent with them has been, and continues to be, a great learning experience.

Maggie was an interesting chook – she was the most hen-pecked of the flock, the last to start laying and the first to stop. She had big yellow legs that distinguished her from the others, and she was always flighty and nervous – whereas the others would climb all over Pete and settle in happily for a cuddle, Maggie didn’t like to be held.

In her prime, she was the largest hen in the flock, and quite dominant. It was nice watching her having her moment of power after the hard time the other girls had given her.  She laid lovely big, occasionally huge, brown eggs.

In the latter part of her life, she started laying eggs with a dodgy shell, a common problem for ISA browns as they grow older.  Whereas our dominant hen Queenie died very suddenly after trying to lay a large soft-shell egg that cracked inside her, Maggie managed to get them out, but the effort wore her out immensely.  We thought we’d lose her on two previous occasions, but each time she recovered to soldier on for another day.

She’d been in poor form for a couple of months before she died – she didn’t appear to be in any pain (which is usually obvious with chickens, as they hunch their backs and tense up), but she wasn’t quite right. She took to sleeping in the nesting box, because she couldn’t fly up to the roost any more.  Every night, Pete would take her out of the box and settle her up on the roost beside the other hens.  When she was soiled from laying a soft egg, we would clean her up as gently as we could, with warm water and detergent.

In her final days, we tried to tempt her with all her favourite foods – corn, leftover steak, zucchini, sorrel – but she just wasn’t interested.  Last night she was lying on the ground in a part of the dome that we couldn’t reach in the dark, and this morning she was gone.  It’s a little sad, but it’s a good thing too, because she really wasn’t well.

Google tells me that the average lifespan of an ISA brown is only 2 – 3 years, although some will occasionally live much longer.  We’d like to think that our girls have a good life with us, even though it’s not for very long.

So now there are four.  Harriet, Bertha, Francesca and Rosemary – all are in fine health and laying sporadically.  They’re 3 years old now, but still going strong!

R.I.P. Maggie

New Year is a time when we’re supposed to make resolutions – public proclamations about how we’ve going to improve or change ourselves over the coming twelve months.  I’ve just had a look at the ones I made last year, and apart from the sit-ups, I actually didn’t do too badly.

This year, I thought I’d try something different. New Year is always a time for introspection, but instead of looking forward, this year I thought I’d look back and try to consolidate the things I’ve learned in the past.  Perhaps then I can figure out what resolutions still need to be made.

In no particular order, here are five (quite random) life lessons that I’ve learned, often the hard way…

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1. Life is an adventure. It is full and rich and complex, and therefore, by necessity, parts of it are going to be crappy.

As some of you know, 2012 was a tough year for us. We were bounced around and buffeted by things which weren’t really within our control. But it was also a great year, because Pete, Big Boy, Small Man and I are on a journey together. We laugh, cry, rejoice and mourn as a family.  And as I look around at so many of our friends who are divorced and/or estranged from their children, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the loving, happy family life we’ve been blessed with.

As I’m drafting this post, Small Man keeps coming in to tell me about a new game he’s playing, and Big Boy has gone to buy us pork rolls for lunch.  We have a sixteen year old who talks to us constantly, and a twenty year old who goes out of his way to take care of us.  When viewed in that light, most of the dramas that life throws at us pale into insignificance.

. . . . .

2. New skills require practice.

I’ve blogged about this before, but I think it deserves to be on my reflections list – simply because it was a lesson that took me so many years to learn.

The flaky pastry dough that I mentioned a couple of days ago is a good example – my first attempt was ordinary, my second attempt much better. In the past few days, I’ve had three more goes at the fraisage technique, and each time the results have been a little more pleasing.

It has taken me until my late 40s to understand that it takes time and persistence to hone new skills. These days, I’m rarely disappointed, disillusioned or surprised when a first attempt goes pear-shaped.  In fact, it’s the things that take longer to master that seem to bring the greatest satisfaction.

. . . . .

3. People can be shy.

This is something that took me ages to figure out. As you might have noticed (or guessed), I’m quite extroverted, and in the past I would often misinterpret shyness in others for arrogance or indifference.  These days, when I meet someone who appears aloof, I automatically assume they’re shy unless proven otherwise. And I’ve ended up with some amazing friends as  a result.

. . . . .

4. Contentment takes work.

Philippians 4:11 states, “For I have learned, in whatever state I am, to be content”.

Unless a person is gifted with a particularly placid temperament, contentment will always be a work in progress rather than a blessing that falls from the sky.  It isn’t something which comes about when all the stars in one’s personal universe are aligned, but rather a state of mind which needs to be actively sought and cultivated, regardless of life circumstances. This is much easier said than done, of course, but I’m working on it.

. . . . .

5. Relationships matter.

Family, friends, community – these are the things which define us – more than wealth, career or success.  A loving family matters more than a fancy house; job satisfaction outweighs salary; great neighbours are more important than land values.

As we get older, our decisions on how and where we spend our money are more often determined by the relationship we have with the provider of the goods or service, and less by the actual dollar cost.  We seek out honest tradesmen, specialist providores, ethical meat growers and restauranteurs who truly care about their food and staff.  If things cost more as a result, then we simply buy less.

. . . . .

I’d love to hear your thoughts, if you’re inclined to share them.  There is always so much more to learn!

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On New Year’s Day, I learnt how to fraisage a dough.

Fraisage is a French pastry making technique used to create flakiness in a finished pie crust. I watched Joanne Chang working her dough on Simply Ming, and raced straight into the kitchen to try it out.  I’d always wanted to make flaky pastry, but hadn’t known how to go about it before.

My first attempt was a little dodgy, so I rang our friend Craig the baker for some advice.  Craig generously gave me both his recipe and some tips on handling the dough. The results were sooo exciting – Pete came into the kitchen when he heard me squealing with delight!

Fraisage is the technique of smearing cold butter inside a loose dough to form it into sheets.  The butter melts on baking, creating layers within the finished pastry.  In order to do this successfully, the butter needs to be very cold (but not frozen rock solid), and handled reasonably briefly.

Craig uses a 3 – 2 – 1 pastry formula as follows:

  • 300g (2 cups) plain (AP) flour
  • 200g (7oz) unsalted butter
  • 100g (3½oz) cold water
  • ½ teaspoon fine sea salt
  • 1 Tablespoon sugar (optional – for sweet doughs only)

1. Cut the cold butter into rough 2½cm (1″) cubes and measure out the water. Craig’s tip is to pop both the butter and the water into the freezer to chill while you prepare the board and measure out the dry ingredients (give it about 10 minutes or so).

2. In a stand mixer, combine the flour, salt and sugar (if using) and add the butter, beating on a medium speed just until the butter is reduced to pea-size pieces (some bits will be a bit larger). Quickly add the cold water and mix just until the water is incorporated. The dough will be very shaggy.

Turn the dough out onto a well floured work surface…

3.  Using the palm of your hand, push sections of the dough outwards. The aim is to flatten the dough and smear the butter into long streaks…

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4. Continue working the dough a section at a time, pressing down and flattening it onto the work surface. It helps to have cool hands…

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5. When you’ve flattened all the dough, gather it together with a spatula or pastry tool…

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6. Form the dough into a ball, wrap it in cling film, and let it chill in the fridge for at least an hour and up to three days. The dough can also be frozen for latter use.

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I turned half of my dough into a sweet pie filled with boysenberries and raspberries from the freezer.  The crust was egg washed and sprinkled with demerara sugar before baking…

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And the end result was…flaky!

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I think learning a brand new technique on New Year’s Day is a very auspicious way to start 2013.  I need a lot more practice of course, but I’m so chuffed with how my second attempt turned out that I’m off to buy more unsalted butter!

Happy New Year!

How was your Christmas?

Ours was filled with family, friends and oodles of food!  Grab a cup of tea and pull up a chair, there’s lots to share with you in the kitchen this month…

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In my kitchen…

…is a surprise treat from Jane at The Shady Baker – crushed olives produced by a friend of hers, and a couple of her large, homegrown garlic corms…

In my kitchen…

…are Turkish Apple teas from T2, a gift from my darling friend Becca, the InTolerant Chef

The powdered tea is similar to one I’ve tried before, but the chunky version is completely new to me, and makes a lovely, gentle brew…

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In my kitchen…

…is a new lime-wood cutting board that I picked up at Chefs’ Warehouse.  There are two sizes available – this is the smaller one – and at 39cm x 59cm (15½” x 23″), it’s enormous. I took this photo before it was used, because I knew the light coloured timber would never be as pristine again…

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The board has a wooden lip that wedges against the bench to prevent it from sliding around when in use. The only downside is that it just barely fits into the sink, which means the kitchen floor gets a soaking every time I wash it.  Just as well I bought the small one…

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In my kitchen…

…is a giant tromboncino. We let one grow to see just how big they could get. Weighing in at two and a half kilos (five and a half pounds), it wasn’t as tasty as the smaller fruit, although it did make a lovely soup when combined with butternut pumpkin…

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In my kitchen…

…are two loaves of black-salt encrusted sourdough, baked in a covered tin…

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I love the way the salt embeds into the crust, like a mosaic…

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In my kitchen…

…is a gift from Pete’s Aunt Liz – a tasting set of honeys…

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I don’t think I’ve ever tried Murrumbidgee Bluebell honey before!

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In my kitchen…

…is a jarrah cutting board, made for me by Uncle Steve.

After reading Glenda’s December IMK post, I went on a quest for a wooden serving board.  My lovely brother-in-law heard me carrying on about it (to be honest, he could hardly not have heard me), and presented me with this one as a Christmas gift…

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The long ends of the board are shaped, and it’s finished with olive oil.

Gregory, Ray and CC – my apologies, but Uncle Steve is now my all-time favourite brother-in-law…

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In my kitchen…

…is a set of chicken pasta bowls, which I couldn’t pass up at the pre-Christmas sales…

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In my kitchen…

…is a very cute gift from Jan and Peter, who came to visit last week…

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It’s a chocolate notepad!

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In my kitchen…

…is a gift from the lovely Lorraine.  She knew how excited I’d be to have gold bricks of fabulous New Zealand butter to play with…

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In my kitchen…

…is a lemon tea towel from my neighbour Nic, and an embroidered egg cozy from Debra of Bagni di Lucca

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Finally, in my kitchen…

…are two new cookbooks – the Simply Ming cookbook was a gift from Pete, and the François Payard one was a Christmas present from Maude…

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 . . . . .

Tell me, what’s happening in your kitchen this month?

If you’d like to do an In My Kitchen post on your own blog, please feel free  to do so. We’d love to see what’s happening in your kitchen this month!  Please link back to this blog, and let us know when your post is up, and we’ll add it to our monthly listing.

As promised, a round-up of all our Christmas chocolates for 2012…

We’ve made two versions of the Twelve Days of Christmas, in both Callebaut dark and milk feuilletine. The first batch used moulds from Candyland Crafts

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…and the second were made using a Christmas tin that I’d originally bought for shortbread. It never seemed to work for cookies, but the designs were crisp and sharp in chocolate…

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I made a large batch of chocolate truffles at the last minute – it was tricky to get the ganache to set in our Sydney heat…

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For the kids, we have milk feuilletine golden tickets, commonly known as “Kit Kat chocolate” in our house…

Here are our platters, ready to be delivered to the neighbours…

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♥ Wishing you all a joyous, blessed Merry Christmas!  We’ll see you in 2013! ♥

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