Glenmore House

To stand in a garden this fine, to wander in the rain, to be more comfortable outside than in, to sit with tea, to watch the cows, to see leaves fall, to feel welcomed among the green silence between a kitchen garden and peppercorn trees -- is stirring.

Glenmore House is exquisite and is the much loved property of owners Mickey and Larry Robertson. This past weekend, the property was generously shared with the public and filled up with stalls, seedlings, talks, and produce for fellow garden lovers to feast on. I loved meeting Mickey, sharing our love for rain and hearing her story of the making of the Glenmore House gardens. I think she showed us some of the best before and after pictures I'd ever seen. Hard work and the pursuit of a dream, it's true, pays off. 

Gardens leave me invigorated, and sometime had passed since I stood in a garden and felt this inspired. It was nourishing. I'm so glad - as is always the way - that I made the trip. It turned out to be quite the place to spend a slow autumn Sunday. 
 


 

A Local Milk Slow Living Retreat - Byron Bay

A few of my most favourite moments from last weeks slow living retreat in Byron Bay with Beth Kirby of Local Milk, Rebekka Seale of Camellia Fiber Company, Luisa Brimble, and Aaron Teece of Studio Neon. 

Some places manage to transport you - to calm, to joy, to a surreal place of gratitude, to a belly of fire, and to tears. Beth is the only person I know to create such a place, Rebekka is the only person I know to bring such warmth, Luisa is the only person I know to make my belly hurt from constant, confused laughter and Aaron is the only person I know to turn a kitchen, table and tummy to pure food magic over four blissful days.  

The property of Avalon Lea was good to us. It was a place of foggy morning sunrises and views of soft rolling hills, many a tropical fruit tree, friendly farm hands and veggie patches and the perfect place to pitch Jessie's Happy Glamper tents. We slowed down here as we foraged, wove, baked, picnicked, styled, gathered and ate. 

The participants, the part I was most excited and curious to meet, were full of inspiration and fervor. From Spain, from Perth, from not too far up the road and with two birthday celebrations in tow - waves of talent and conversation flooded our breakfast, lunch and dinner tables every moment of every day. I miss them all dearly already.

There comes both joy and sorrow from spending time at such a place with such folk. The best part of course is being there with them. The worst, is having to leave it all behind. Worst still is saying goodbye to the dearest of friends from State side. I will never, ever have enough time with Beth and Rebekka - time with them is so precious - they are two souls that I love dearly and miss. Together with  two Australian super talents, Luisa and Aaron, a real dream team was made. I am so thrilled to have played a small part along side and to have slowed down with you all. 

The Cottage Kangaroo Valley, Chocolate Mousse + A Saveur Nomination

To be surrounded by misty mountain ridges and opulent towering gums. Lyrebird calls, fields of green grass and dairy cows. Wombat burrows and beaches of white, white sand. That's what it's like to be home. 

It's been two years since leaving for the States, and two years since stepping foot on the beautiful south coast of New South Wales. And it is magic, this Australia. This home. Back in the ute, accents flowing fierce, those red and yellow beach flags and marsupials - everywhere. Fires that smell of eucalypt. Macadamia nuts and budding wattle seeds. Shortened lingo - spare the names of local towns full of double letters and native tongue. Cambewarra. Tapitallee. That's where we've nestled in. 

It's been a tricky time. Adjustment. Change. All a challenge, all predictable. A world of leaving behind and accepting the mundane. The mundane turned novel. It's been a search for a revived comfort space and stomping ground. An international move will do that to you, I suppose. And we miss it all. What we’ve seen. What we’ve had. What we left behind. But this country and all that we missed on the other end, has greeted us and treated us well. It feels good to be back on home turf. We are lucky to have this, this Australia. And so happy to be home. 

Not long had I landed when I took the short trip over the mountain to see artist, stylist and my dear, dear friend, Lisa Madigan, and her home - The Cottage, Kangaroo Valley. It had been too long. Some context here: Lisa’s cottage is like a dream - all white and otherworldly and delicious like. A dream I’d very much like to live in. The cottage has had a beautiful history. It was built in the 1880’s, housed the local newspaper press and for the past 8 years has been home to Lisa, Rob and her two Dalmatian pups. Lisa and Rob lovingly transformed the cottage into the most charming curated space. Stunningly styled and true a reflection of all things Lisa - Luxurious. Rustic. Uplifting. Inspired.

Now, as time shifts and people move on, the cottage is about to embark on an equally beautiful future. Lisa and Rob have decided to share their little piece of the valley with others, turning their cottage into boutique accommodation and a space for special, intimate events (more about the cottage and booking enquiries here). Today, this celebration, was the launch of their exciting news. 

It was the perfect day to pop over, as the cottage was dressed and flowing with celebration. There were new friends to meet and old friends to catch up with – a somewhat surreal but pleasant feeling to be in the company of Australians again. We dined on a nectarous lunch, lovingly prepared by Lisa. There were local oysters and cheese platters to start us off (Lisa nails this, every time) and for the main course at the long harvest table, we shared slow braised local lamb shoulder in marsala, roasted root veggies with red onion and goats fetta and a lemony green tossed salad. A feast embellished with Indian summer, shared cottage stories, change, and all the excitement that this brings. It was a simply lovely afternoon. We finished off in the garden, with a whipped sweet treat - chocolate mousse with toasted hazelnut praline + mint. And did I mention there was champagne? Lots of champagne.

Aaaand, the champagne has continued flowing here in our mountain ridge, wombat burrowed gum tree lined home! We were greeted with the most wonderful news over the weekend - that lean + meadow has been nominated for this year’s Saveur Blog Awards in the best designed blog category! I screamed when I first read it. Then proceeded to cry. Happy tears. Truly happy - couldn’t believe it but felt immense gratitude - tears. Words aren’t enough. I am humbled and grateful and so thankful for this. Being nominated is beyond all expectation. The biggest heartfelt thankyou to those of you nominated me and who put in a good word. Voting is now open until April 30th and if you like, you can vote for me here. And if not, then at least vote for one of the other brilliant people nominated. SO much talent here. So honoured to be in the same category as them all. 

Now that it’s Easter weekend, we have the perfect excuse to keep celebrating and to indulge in a little too many hot cross buns (I’m onto baking my third batch) and always, lots of chocolate… To help with the indulgence and celebration, here is Lisa’s chocolate mousse recipe from the Cottage launch. An Easter treat from us to you.

May you have a lovely long weekend. Happy Easter. 

Lisa’s Chocolate Mousse with Toasted Hazelnut + Mint Praline

For the Mousse
400g dark chocolate, chopped
40g butter
6 free range eggs, separated
2tbs caster sugar
Pouring cream (use only a small amount of pouring cream if you like the chocolate to remain rich, more if you prefer overall creaminess)


For the Praline
150 g hazelnuts
2 cups caster sugar
Fresh mint, chopped
slices of fresh, seasonal fruit e.g fresh figs for garnishing

Melt the butter & chocolate in a saucepan over a low heat until smooth.
Separate the eggs. Stir egg yolks through chocolate & butter mixture & set aside.
Whisk egg whites until soft peaks form.
Slowly add the sugar (less if sweet isn't your thing) & beat on high until silky stiff peaks form.
Gently fold through chocolate mixture & silky egg whites, then add the pouring cream to taste.
Find some gorgeous vessels to serve your mousse in, pour & refrigerate to set.

Pre-heat the oven to 180°C/ 350°F and line a baking tray with baking paper.
Toast your hazelnuts or chosen nuts in a pan or in the oven for 6-8 minutes. They should become lovely and fragrant.
Once toasted, pound them up in a mortar & pestle to desired size (I like to keep them quite rough & varied in shape & size).
Place caster sugar in a saucepan over medium heat. Give the pan a quick swirl to allow sugar to dissolve, but do not stir (this will make the sugar crystalise).
Allow the sugar mixture to cook until it becomes a rich and delicious caramel colour. Be careful to not let it burn.
Remove from the heat and take care as it becomes incredibly hot.
Pour out thinly over the baking paper & sprinkle quickly with the nuts & chopped mint. 

Once the mousse and praline has set, break the praline up into shards and add them to each mousse vessel. I always find it nice to break up the chocolatey richness with a little fruit, so this time I've used slices of fresh figs as they're in season. 

Enjoy. 
 

                                                                                                              vote here!

Switzerland, Sunday Bread and Sarah

In January, Sunday mornings are particularly sweet times in Sarah and Alban’s apartment. There is no rush to get out of bed. Blinds are gently lifted to let the Swiss winter light in and time in the kitchen preparing breakfast is an unhurried, beautifully shared ritual. There will be stove top espresso coffee with frothed milk and a thoughtfully arranged table spread with soft boiled eggs, jams and butter. And from the oven will come a prettily plaited, warm baked loaf of zopf.

I’ve been meaning to introduce you to Sarah. After all, she is one of my dearest, most loved friends. Although always living on opposite sides of the world (Sarah is Swiss), we have remained close. Always finding time to meet, to travel together and to share many meals.

Sarah is the friend that I catch trams with. Walk the streets of Paris, London, Istanbul and Berlin with. We laugh and chat and behave like sixteen year olds and never ever does there seem to be enough time together. She lends me shoes, takes me to gallery openings and educates me on movies, music and art. She reminds me of all things graceful and clumsy, serious and silly. She is creative beyond means, has the most wonderful memory and bears the kindest and most considerate soul there is. When I’m sick, she brings me tulips, lemon tea and a thermometer.  She is the friend that hosts mid-week dinners, uses every last item in her fridge, loves Pavlova and golden syrup and all things Australian. She dislikes Edith Piaf on Saturdays and being wasteful. She introduced me to Danish furniture, parquet floors, and living without a TV. She speaks perfect English, writes the most beautiful letters and her handwriting is like no one else’s I’ve seen.

Some of the fondest memories I have of Sarah are with her husband Alban in their apartment in Basel. Most of them are situated around all of us making food in the kitchen, gathering around their dining room table for dinner with friends, or on a slow Sunday morning, just us. I fondly remember being introduced to Zopf (which I forever referred to as Sunday bread) and the novelty of this simply beautiful, traditionally Swiss food.

Sometimes a little earlier on a Sunday, Sarah would ride her bike into town to pick up a loaf of zopf and place it in the oven to warm ready to have with breakfast. I also remember her baking a loaf once, to take down to her neighbor as a peace making gesture. For some reason it stuck with me. An unusual but fond memory of Switzerland perhaps.  

During my recent stay with Sarah and Alban, we made sure to spend one breakfast together baking and eating zopf. Again, I couldn't get enough of spending time at their table, simply eating, enjoying the morning, waking up to a gentle Sunday start.

One thing to learn from these two dear friends is how to live minimally and sentimentally, to enjoy food prepared thoughtfully and together and how to appreciate all that is humble and true about taking time.

More memories made, more time together. And more eating and sharing zopf.

Here is Sarah’s recipe:

Zopf (Sunday Bread)

cook time: 3 hours 15 minutes (including 2 hours rising time)
yields: 4 servings

300ml milk
60g butter
7g dry yeast
500g plain flour
1 tsp sugar
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 egg, separated

Warm the milk and butter in a saucepan over medium heat until it just reaches body temperature. Stir in the yeast and allow to stand for a few minutes until the yeast begins to bubble. 
Combine all of the ingredients except the egg yolk in a large bowl. Turn out onto a flat, lightly floured surface. Knead the dough until it becomes smooth and elastic - about 10 -15 minutes. Place the dough back in the bowl and leave to rise in a warm place for about two hours or until doubled in size. 

Once the dough has risen, evenly separate the dough into two halves. Roll each half into a sausage shape until they are approximately 60cm long, allowing the dough to become a little thinner at one end. 
Begin plaiting the dough by making a cross, placing one piece over the other in the center. Continue to pick up and cross over the underneath pieces, two at a time, until you reach the end of the dough (see photos above). The plait will grow upwards, towards you. Once all the dough has been plaited, tuck the four ends into the plait to finish it off. 

Place the zopf on a baking tray and evenly brush the egg yolk over the top of the plait. Turn the oven to 220°C/425°F  and place the zofp in straight away, un-preheated. This will allow the zopf to rise a little more as the oven preheats. Once the oven is at  full temperature, bake for 35-45 minutes or until a knock on the bottom of the bread sounds hollow. 
Enjoy warm.

"E Guete!"