Drop the Mic - the Persimmon and Quince are Done!

In my November blog I mentioned that: ‘a kindly neighbor has just delivered a crate full of quince and fast-ripening lotus fruit for us. Thinking cap on – what can we do with those??!!’ Well, today’s post constitutes the response to that question.

                        

 

       

Here are the quinces, with their furry coating and insides removed, skins still on. Normally we would then pop them in a roasting pan along with sugar and water and the resulting roast fruit and syrup is delicious.   Some of us also make a paste from them, not unlike a fruit pastille texture. This sweet apparently goes back to the Roman times and, with regional variations, is still widely prepared, but perhaps mainly on the Iberian Peninsula known as marmelada to the Portuguese, and dulce de membrillo to the Spanish.

    This time I wanted to make changes so the fruit is simply boiled in water, then the resulting juice is carefully strained, rapidly brought to a boil with sugar until it sets.  Below you can see the beautiful amber jelly it produces and the taste is equally autumn rich. The remaining fruit I simply couldn’t discard so that, too, was boiled up with sugar and that curd is rather good for breakfast, slathered on oatcakes.

One of Z’s favourite sweets is tarte tatin, I think because it resembles the syrupy-pastry sweets – such as baklava- originally from Asia Minor. Here I tried a modified recipe of Martha Stewart’s where she uses quince instead of the traditional apple.  Some advice: make more syrup than usual as the quince, on cooking, does not produce as much liquid as the apple, and whether you serve it with cream or ice-cream, the syrupy puff-pastry is the show-stopper. 

                                               

Now I turn to the fruit of the lotus tree which is virtually ignored here. At this time of year you’ll see trees hanging with these wondrous orange lanterns – disregarded and discarded, left to go to waste. That, to me, is a tragedy as, once fully ripened, the fruit contains a rich jelly which is quite versatile - as I’m beginning to learn.  I had found an old recipe for persimmon (as the fruit is known) cookies and had got tired of making that – I was ready for a change here too.

I’m a lemon pie fan (but no meringue topping, please – it’s just too sweet) so I adapted the recipe to make a lotus tart. Isn’t it like a quiche is savoury while a tart (ironically enough!) is sweet? Anyway …..!  Next up: a lotus cheese-cake. The filling is always a little on the soft side as I add both lemon zest and juice to the cream/cheese combo to give it zing. The fruit jelly, heated with a little sugar makes a really nice topping.

                               

 Below you can see my preparations for a Christmas delivery to friends and neigbours. A while back I was delighted to find a local store which imported shortbread and oatcakes, items this Highlander greatly missed. Frustrated, however, by the shortbread often being broken, while the oatcakes became increasingly more expensive, spicy and small - reduced to ‘cocktail size’, whatever that is – so I learned to make my own. Next to the shortbread are my first attempts at persimmon scone muffins. I guess they’re muffins because of their shape, but scones because, having Greek yoghurt (the recipe asked for buttermilk) in the mix, they’re not too sweet.  Last night’s experiment was these persimmon oatmeal cookies which turned out well: crispy on the outside and nicely chewy inside.

                         

 

Below you see my contribution to our neighbours’ Boxing Day table: lotus pavlova. First syllable stress on that word, please, as advised by a Muscovite on sampling one of mine! 

                                 

Forget the sweets now: a savoury dish I attempted recently was the Lebanese dish, fateh  - or, at least, the lovely Nigella’s version of that, without chickpeas. With its toasted pitta-bread as a base, a layer of mince, aubergine and onion, topped with yoghurt and tahini, it’s fun to eat with friends as this is a dish to be eaten without cutlery. The dusting of red pepper, mint and pomegranate seeds give it a truly festive appeal.      

                                                   

We open our presents on January 1^st, the name day of Saint Vasilis, the dude that brings the pressies here. I don’t know what we’ll have to accompany it but I have to think up a special menu for this bottle, still wrapped up, nestling under the tree for Z. It’s from a local winery, which was named Winery of the Year by the Wine and Spirits magazine, USA. The award-winning wine, Voignier 2016, gained a gold medal at the Sommelier Wine Awards 2017, UK.

Whatever your fare, have a Happy Hogmanay – kali orexi and slainte mhath!

Alban Arthan, The Winter Solstice and The Twelve Days of Christmas.

Okay – so what were you doing at 15.53 GMT on Thursday 21^st December?  You don’t remember or you didn’t notice anything?  Well, that was the time that marked the winter solstice - the astronomical first day on winter, the shortest day of the year. This was a huge festival in Celtic times and the Druids called it Alban Arthan – the Light of Winter. And this festival is not restricted to the Celtic culture – the summer and winter solstices are seen as possibly the oldest seasonal festivals observed by man. In a response, in part that of faith and fear, man observed the sun’s ‘departure’ and tried with all his might to cajole her life-giving forces to return.

On that day I was in the spa, swimming away, when I heard a little Greek lad heartily join in the chorus of the piped music, ‘And a partridge in a pear tree’  When I asked him if he knew what it meant, he proudly told me it was about a bird sitting on a branch of a pear tree. Well done, that lad! 

                                             

And this got me thinking about what these twelve days actually represent. A quick pool-poll revealed that fellow-swimmers/exercisers were confused: some thought the twelve days began on Christmas day and ended on Epiphany, marking the birth and baptism of Christ, respectively. Others, although agreeing as to when those twelve days were, disagreed on what they meant, believing that Epiphany represents the arrival of the three kings or the magi, bearing gifts for the newborn child. The Greek word epihania, meaning ‘revelation’, could allow for either of these interpretations.

I looked to the carol itself to see what light it could shed on my puzzle.

The Catholic News Agency reports:

The song, "The Twelve Days of Christmas" is an English Christmas carol. From 1558 until 1829, Roman Catholics in England were not permitted to practice their faith openly. Someone during that era wrote this carol as a catechism song for young Catholics. It has two levels of meaning: the surface meaning plus a hidden meaning known only to members of the Church. Each element in the carol has a code word for a religious reality which the children could remember. To fit the number scheme, when you reach number 9, representing the Fruits of the Holy Ghost, the originator combined 6 to make 3, taking the 6 fruits that were similar: the fruit in each parenthesis is the that was not named separately. There are actually Twelve Fruits of the Holy Ghost.

The "True Love" one hears in the song is not a smitten boy or girlfriend but Jesus Christ, because truly Love was born on Christmas Day. The partridge in the pear tree also represents Him because that bird is willing to sacrifice its life if necessary to protect its young by feigning injury to draw away predators.

 This coded reference all sounds a bit Dan Brown to me.

Ann Ball, in Handbook of Catholic Sacramentals, interprets the song symbolism so:

The two turtle doves were the Old and New Testaments

The three French hens stood for faith, hope, and love.

The four calling birds were the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

The five golden rings represented the first five books of the Old Testament, which describe man's fall into sin and the great love of God in sending a Savior.

The six geese a-laying stood for the six days of creation.

Seven swans a-swimming represented the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Spirit-----Prophesy, Serving, Teaching, Exhortation, Contribution, Leadership, and Mercy.

The eight maids a-milking were the eight beatitudes.

Nine ladies dancing were the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit-----Charity, Joy, Peace, Patience [Forbearance], Goodness [Kindness], Mildness, Fidelity, Modesty, Continency [Chastity].

The ten lords a-leaping were the Ten Commandments.

The eleven pipers piping stood for the eleven faithful Apostles.

The twelve drummers drumming symbolized the twelve points of belief in The Apostles' Creed.

That all seems a touch contrived.

 Still not satisfied with what our Christian sources have to say, I head back to the Druids for further enlightenment – and what I find is fascinating.                                     

It was at this time of year the Druids celebrated their fire festival. Now the custom of decorating trees is an ancient one – the pine tree, being evergreen, held mysteries of survival in the dark days of winter. The holly, with its vibrant red berries, was also regarded as precious and holly garlands were worn during the festivities. The mistletoe was, to them, a sacred plant which had the properties of healing, protection and fertility. These trees and plants played significant roles in their solstice ceremonies: mistletoe, for example, was cut and given as a blessing, since it symbolized life.  

                                            

To the people of yore, the sun was a wheel – from which the word yule is said to be derived - whose revolutions brought about the seasonal changes. At the winter solstice the sun is at its southernmost position and for a few days, before and after, its movement almost imperceptible, hence the word solstice: from the Latin sol: sun, and sistere: to stand still. Similarly in Greek the word iliostaio suggests the sun stopping.

The Celts believed the sun actually stood still for twelve days. Ahah, that number, again! So, to keep on the good side of these forces of nature, on the eve of the solstice the yule log was lit and this fire was kept burning for those twelve days to overwhelm the darkness, banish evil spirits and to receive good luck for the coming year.
                                       

                                               

This Christmas as we light our candles, decorate our halls with holly, sit by a blazing log fire, we can think on how we are copying our pre-Christian predecessors.           

                                                  

And as we kiss under the mistletoe, we truly are responding to the urges of prehistoric man!

Heavy Autumnal Chores in the Garden.

 At this time of the year, while the weather still remains fine, there is just so much to do in the garden. Here Zissis is busy pruning the hedge while I rake up the leaves and branches to be burned in the back field later. Leaves from the trees are bagged for the time being. Later on, the decomposing materials will be dug into the garden as natural fertilizer.

                                            

 

The night-flowers begin to look straggly and are more seed -head than flower,  so they need to be uprooted while the plumbago can be pruned back as well.

           

 

The major chore, however, at this time is harvesting the olives. This year our yield has been reasonably good, with trees which don’t often produce  offering up a fair supply.

                        

All the bending and stretching entailed in reaching the olives higher in the trees, in beating them off the brances then stooping to collect them  is exceptionally good exercise – as is lugging these heavy crates into the car and then off–loading them at the olive press.

                                         

   And then there’s that glorious moment when you see your very own first-press virgin olive oil beginning to pour. Next it’s decanted into oil cans  and set down in the basement  as part of our store of supplies for the winter.                                                           

   So that now leaves our pomegranates to be collected, cleaned and the seeds put in the freezer. They are great when added to winter salads – they add festive colour and a real burst of flavour. With the garden looking a lot tidier, perhaps we can spend more time sitting on the balcony, enjoying the view. 

Uh oh – spoke too soon! A kindly neighbor has just delivered a crate full of quince and fast-ripening lotus fruit for us. Thinking cap on – what can we do with those??!!