Saudi Arabia – Part One

Oh I come from a land, from a far away place where the caravan camels roam.

Where it’s flat and immense and the heat is intense

It’s babaric, but hey, it’s home…

- Aladdin, Arabian Nights

Greetings from the Middle East!

As some of you may know, Papa Bear is working over in Saudi Arabia and M. and I were given the opportunity to go over and visit him this month, so the next few blogs will be us sharing tales with you about what we have discovered and seen in the land that gave us, well, 1001 Nights and Other Arabian Tales!

We begin, obviously, with the flight over. The long, long flight over. We were travelling about 31hrs (not including the 3hrs to get to the airport, and the 2 hours spent waiting there) with a swift stop at Changi Airport, a brief we-didn’t-even-get-off-the-aeroplane stop in Columbo and then a long 7hr stint at Dubai. Now, of all the airports to be stopped in, Dubai is the one to go for. M. and I, stumbling around after very little sleep, had a bit of a look around and decided what we needed was a shower. More than anything.

Traveller’s Tip: If stuck in Dubai, find the elevators near the MAC store, go up to level 5 and go left until you see the health rooms. For $14US you can get yourself one of these for as long as your heart desires.

An beautiful and clean shower in Dubai.

With amenities!

We spent some time exploring Dubai airport, and while we were at it proved the adage: “It doesn’t matter where you go, there is always an Irish Pub.”

An Irish pub in the UAE. Of course!

After some duty free shopping, we hopped onto the final flight to Riyadh! In Saudi Arabia it is illegal to photograph any government building, or people without their permission. This somewhat limits what we can photograph and what we can put up on the blog, but trust me when I say the airport looks a bit like this, a sandy building in the middle of the desert. I know it’s ridiculous,  but I am amazed at how bare it is. Because of all the sandstorms, the buildings are the same colour as the sand, and so the whole place looks empty and sparse. It’s amazing and beautiful, somehow.

Day one we decided to go to Masmak Fort and Deera Square, known locally as Chop Chop square because on Friday they hold public executions there. It was a huge empty space and a little intimidating to know that some people live out their last moments here. It was also somewhat less dramatic than I assumed.

Chop Chop Square

Masmak Fort

We also went to check out one of the local souqs (markets) where we found the most amazing scarves, beautiful Turkish bowls and plates (which I will be getting later) and Persian rugs to weep over. M. grabbed herself a Janome sewing machine which, she was delighted and amused to discover, still uses cams for the patterns.

A shop in the Deera Souq, with an impressive title!

I think that will have to end our first tale, but we will continue the story in the next day or two. The next episode will involve Najd Village, the Old City, the shopping trolley and camels! Oh, and watch out for ‘In Papa Bear’s Kitchen’!

- M & E.

Baking at the Convent

Yesterday, M. and I went to the Abbotsford Convent to do a bread making course, and having never been there before I was struck with how beautiful it is. The land was given to the nuns in 1863 and has a bit of a dark history. It appears it was not only a convent for the local nuns, but that they had two orphanages on the premises and an area where unmarried women who were pregnant could be sent to work for the convent, unable to leave. Although that is not written on the official website, girls who were ‘with child’ could be sent there by their father, and not be seen again.

However, the building itself was just beautiful, and the tile work was Italian and, M. decided, the perfect design for a quilt.

But on to more important matters, such as the bread we made. We arrived to the most amazing little room, with a gorgeous woodfire oven in the background. Our teacher was a gentleman named Baker Bob, who looked exactly like a baker should. He reminded me of Curry and Rice from ‘The Magic Pudding’ by Norman Lindsay:

“‘Ho, the cook of the Saucy Sausage,
Was a feller called Curry and Rice,
A son of a gun as fat as a tun
With a face as round as a hot-cross bun,
Or a barrel, to be precise.”

 

He was, unlike Curry and Rice, a lovely man and he taught us many a wonderful thing. I won’t bore you with all the details, but here are some of the delicious breads we produced:

 

My first attempt at scones that actually worked. I was so proud!

M's beautifully shaped bread rolls that she was praised for, at length, by Bob.

My pizza dough, which we used half of to make...

A sweet apple and custard calzone!

And the pièce de résistance, sourdough bread, which tastes magnificent!

 I also thought I’d fling in a quick shot of the ovens, which I was allowed to help Baker Bob use. My job was to pull the bread off his peel(the long paddle looking tool used to put bread in and out of the huge ovens) and put them on the bench. The oven we worked with could hold about 140 loaves at at time.

 

 

- E.

Lemon Glazed Madeleines

I have had a bit of a baking success, if I’m honest. I recently saw a blog post by Celia on a gentleman named David Lebovitz, and then a few weeks later saw that Joanna had mentioned him as well.

Being bored and trying desperately to get out of doing the report cards that were due, I looked up his blog.

Oh dear. Oh d-d-dear me, Pooh.

There aren’t many words for a discovery like this, so I’ll keep it short and sweet. I stumbled across his Madeleine recipe, made it, and they were magnificent!  I’ve has a couple of goes in the past, and although they were nice, I never knew what the fuss was all about.

David’s recipe (which, since I did not alter once skerrick, I will link to rather than re-post) included lemon zest, a delicious lemon glaze and, my favourite part, you whipped up the recipe and then left it in the fridge for a few hours, to bake just before people walked in the door. That is a recipe worth knowing!

I do acknowledge that mine did not turn out as magnificent as his, but I am just so pleased that I had a go, and got humpy madeleines first time! A bit overcooked, (mine were only baked for 7 mins before I had to pull them out, but I think that’s an oven issue) but I’m sure they’ll be perfect next time.

Not only does his blog give you the recipe, but it also has a lot of information about the Making Of, the Baking Powder Debate, How to Eyeball It, and Other Recipes.

My suggestion is to walk away, grab yourself a cup of tea and enjoy David’s blog.  I certainly did.

- E.

Apologies for the delay…

Ahem. I have to begin by offering my most humble apologies. When we last talked, I told you all the Munyip, Papa Bear, Himself and Big T. were all coming home for a period. Part of this blog’s purpose is to connect our family when we’re all spread apart, and to let the men know what’s happening at home. So, to some extent, it felt a bit redundant posting when they were home.

However, they have all flown the coop once more and so I am turning back to The Blog and letting you all know what you have missed. Mainly, we have three more lambs. That’s right folks, we may have reached full capacity.

Since Millie was born, her and Joy have been as thick as thieves and have a bit of a girls club. They frolic and play together, and tend to go exploring and getting up to mischief as well. Like hiding from their frantic mothers. Or running away from me when I’m trying to round everyone up. But they were happy, content little girls. 

Then along came Tucker. This boy was running before his back legs were moving properly, and he has tormented the two girls since. I love him. He sneaks up behind them, headbutts them in the rear and then chases them all around the field with absolute and delirious joy. He is The Little Brother who Ruins Everything.

After Tucker, we had Ramius. His name is a bit of an in-joke, because we referred to his Grandmother as The Red October most of the time. She was, well, huge! But he is a very different lamb to Tucker, and has caused us a fair amount of concern. He was very weak to start with, and wouldn’t bleat or run away when we came up to him. He would barely move his head most of the time, and would lie still for hours. We called the vet, and she seems to think he’s fine, but we’re still keeping a close eye on him.

At night we tend to bring the sheep into a smaller paddock where there’s shelter and feed. This started because Ramius was too weak to call for his mother and she’d lose him during the night, causing my good self to get up at 2 am and go searching for the little tyke. Since I was losing valuable sleep,  we started rounding them up. Then, last night when I went out to bring the sheep in… did I miscount the lambs, or do we now have five? Groan.

So, I had to try and bring a newborn lamb and mother into the paddock, whilst not letting the other out. I felt a bit like a black and white Charlie Chaplin show, grabbing and holding and diving around, but I managed it somehow. In fact, I’m off to do that again now. Wish me luck…

E.

Introducing Joy. Oh, and one more.

I would like to introduce you to Joy, Laura’s daughter. She was born yesterday to a very attentive mother who is beside herself whenever she bleats or wanders off. She was given the royal welcome by all the other sheep, who wanted to know what this ‘thing’ was. Why was it making such a racket? What was all the fuss?

I would also like to introduce you to the second baby lamb, who was born as I was writing this blog. Umm, we didn’t actually expect her to be born – we didn’t even know her mother was pregnant. Her mother isn’t even be a year old, and to be giving birth is a bit of a shock. This has caused us great concern, because how many more are pregnant?? And why hasn’t Rosie given birth yet? Anyway, here is Tiny and Yet To Be Named. Any suggestions?

We’ll let you know if we have any more lambs. I don’t think the backyard is big enough for all this. Oh dear…

- M. & E.

When The Troops Come Marching Home…

Normally it’s only M. and myself living at home, but over the next couple of weeks all The Troops are slowly making their way back to us, one or two at a time. So soon enough the house will be full and the whole clan will be back together. Himself is back this weekend, followed by Munyip, Papa Bear and finally a fleeting visit from Big T. And since M. was away this week… well, it was a very mad weekend.

If you listen very carefully, you can hear the echoes of muffled cries of panic as M. and I tried to get everything ready for their return. Last weekend was spent in an absolute frenzy as we raced around making treats before they all arrive. It was, however, a very rewarding weekend as we managed to get these four goodies made.

The first one we started, and the easiest, was the homemade yoghurt. We don’t use the store bought mixes, instead making it using a culture and, believe it or not, letting it sit for 12 hours in our slow cooker. After this time in the water bath it sets and has a great greek style tang to it, which we can add flavours to later if we want. I love to add our raspberries and stir them through, and take it to work in huge quantities. 

Then I finished off the limoncello that I started a couple of weeks back. It’s an easy recipe and looks like little rays of boozy sunshine. I think I may have overcatered this time, and might be making it into Christmas pressies for those who are interested. I’ll pop back in the next week and put up the recipe, because it’s very easy and lovely to give to people.

M. also made these delightful bottles of her rhubarb and strawberry jam, which is without doubt one of my absolute favourites. Sometimes we add extra vanilla in it, but it doesn’t need it. One of the best things about this jam is we used the rhubarb and strawberries from our garden, so it really is homemade! I love it spread on fruit toast with our ricotta.

Last, but not least, we finished off the cheese we had started and turned it into a marinated soft curd cheese. We found the recipe on The Gourmet Farmer website (on of our favourite shows), and since the process  was relatively similar to our chabichou, I had expected the taste to be. I was very wrong. It’s a bit bland, to be honest, and tastes more like curds then cheese. Although it is very pretty in the jar, I think I’ll use it in cooking or something like that, rather than in a salad or on crackers. I’ll stick to chabichou next time!

It was a very rewarding day, but I was glad when we’d finished and could have a cup of tea. Now we just wait until everyone comes home…

- E.

Introducing Boris.

Have I mentioned we have sheep yet? Just once or twice, I suppose. When Mum and The Troops moved to VIC a few years ago, it was decided that sheep would make great lawnmowers for the few acres in the backyard.

Deciding on the type of sheep was difficult, and after some research it seemed that Dorpers would be the best for our needs. A Dorper is a South African cross breed that is specifically a meat sheep. So they’re short, fat little things and the best part about them is that they shed their wool, so there isn’t any shearing involved. So we found seven two-year old ewes and set them to grazing.

However, in a bizarre twist of events my parents opened the front door one day to a man, not previously known to then, who knew we had sheep and wanted to know if we wanted his ram. The ram in his truck that he was not going home with. Evidently M. had been talking to a patient about our flock  and made a passing comment about breeding one day. Then, ta da! We acquired a Wiltshire Horn ram by the name of Boris, and (although I have no idea how) we were suddenly blessed with a season of lambs.

Boris, with his magnificent horns.

The original intention was, of course, to produce out own meat by raising our lambs, and then filling up the freezer. We have eaten two so far, one who turned out to be a wether (it turns out we were given six ewes and a wether, not seven ewes and one with a pronounced belly button) and one who could not fall pregnant. It seems cruel, but they had a great life with us and were slaughtered as humanely as possible.

However, we really did struggle to eat the lambs. Unless you’ve seen a new lamb skipping and frolicking, you really don’t know how cute they are. They had no fear of us at all, coming when called and they like to sniff your face and get scratched behind the ear. It really is a struggle to eat something like that. It would be like eating a beloved pet.

What?

We had two seasons out of Boris, and since we weren’t eating any of his offspring, we found ourselves with almost twenty sheep on a mere 3.5 acres. We decided we had to do some culling, and found a number of our sheep happy homes where they won’t be eaten. Boris was given away recently to a farmer, and I hear that he is very happy and enjoying the company of the ladies.

So we are left with only nine sheep, two of whom are pregnant. I’ll introduce you to them in another post!

- E.