market report

Number of tomatoes per heap increases each week, price steady at 50c/pile

Leafy greens are plentiful, with lettuce a hot favourite among the expats, but too expensive for the locals at 50c a bundle. Early season watermelons are expensive, lack flavour and are seedier than the back streets of Bangkok. Pumpkins on their way out, carrots just arrived, coming in at a costly 

$1 per bunch.

Hand harvested sea salt virtually free. 

Beans in abundance, but how many beans can one eat per week? Only 50c/bucket.

Small red chilli only for those with tolerant, or dead, tastebuds.

Spices by the cup or in painfully small packages, shrivelled ginger and balls of fresh tamarind, 

20-50c each. Bugger it, just get the MSG it's cheaper. 

Cold donuts with rank margarine and sprinkles, or deep fried dough balls with fluorescent sugar frosting, all going out at a bargain 5c each. 

Triangles of tasteless glue and seaweed, useful for fixing surfboard dings or illuminating the dark, 

5c each.

Organic shallots for the patient cook who can be bothered skinning and chopping them, $1/tin.

Unidentified balls of boiled dead animal on a stick, price unknown. Limes steady at 4 for 50c, while bunches of kankung persist as the best value green, 50c/bunch.

season of plenty

The middle of the dry season is the peak time for produce. Carrots have arrived, tomatoes are in abundance, cauliflower make a brief appearance, cucumbers are sweet, and lettuce thrives in the cooler temperature. Kan kung (water spinach) is always plentiful and very cheap (top photo), and it provides the green in our green smoothie; the fuel for fearless paddling and blogging.  The local tofu is firm, delicious and versatile - scrambled, steamed, marinated, blended with cacao...I'll prepare it any way except fried.  The fridge is fully stocked this week for the arrival of Aquaman's parents, and we called upon our friendly neighbours to deliver the bounty in their ute. This called for morning tea, followed by the great veggie wash-up and a market day feast for the goats. There goes another simple morning. 

chai with leo

I lugged a couple of litres of soya milk from Bali and rationed them for chai.  Soya beans aren't available on the island, and must be shipped from the mainland to make tempeh and tofu. There is a very similar bean grown locally over the wet season that I mistook for soy and tried in vain to make milk with disastrous curdled results.  I tried three different methods, even sprouting the beans first to make a raw soya milk. Let me tell you, do not try this at home.  It was so wrong, and turned into a weird lumpy custard when heated. 

For a couple of sweet mornings we sat down mid-morning for a spicy brew and a slab of sesame power bar from the market. To accompany our cuppa I read the latest inspiring blog post from Leo Babauta, the writer of Zen Habits.

His post "How to Live Well" parallels our tenets, and the truth that you can live well with little. 

Little things include these mugs from Bill Meiklejohn at Willyabrup Dreaming Pottery, one of the artists I interviewed over summer for my upcoming book... A handmade connection to our Australian home and designed to keep your chai hot for longer. 

"He who is contacted is rich" Lao Tzu

banana rustling

Our neighbours, Colin & Linda, 300 metres southward, aren't arriving till August, however their banana tree got the dates wrong and bore fruit three months early. Their housemaid generously offered the bunch to us, being we are the number one banana consumers in the village, and Aquaman carried it home where we waited impatiently for five days until they ripened.  Green smoothie with banana, papaya and banana, banana with dates, banana on a plate, banana in a bowl, and best of all, banana eaten as nature intended, in the hand, straight out of its own biodegradable packaging.  

salt farming

Aside from the zone where the fishing boats anchor, the water around the island is uncontaminated and provides a pure source for mineral rich sea salt.  During the long dry season the sun and wind evaporates the "farmed water" and leaves behind a fine layer of salt.  This process is repeated until a thick crust forms, which is then harvested with a spoon and sold or stored for personal use. Much easier than growing wheat.

The more traditional and romatic technique employs giant clam shells arranged like a keyhole garden for easy access. The modern fandangled method is to use any plastic containter cut in half, or a piece of tarp nailed to a makeshift frame.

The salt sells for around 10c per cup at the markets and is far superior to the processed iodine fortified poison the government promotes as healthy, or the handfuls of MSG liberally added to make lifeless noodles edible.  While hand harvested Celtic sea salt is a gourmet product in Australian health food stores, we are lucky to have a local source that is natural, unwashed, unrefined, and free of pesticides, herbicides, or additives. Long may the artisan salt farming continue.

beer snacks

Our weekly market is on a Tuesday morning, so Monday can be grim in the fresh food department; especially at the beginning and end of the season when supplies are limited. Today I can't even throw together my standard tomato, carrot and greens combo. We're certainly not faced with makan kosong (lit: eating nothing, usually rice with a tiny bit of fish or some chilli) like many of the locals, or about to resort to Bintang and dried octopus, but I have to admit I'm looking forward to a different ingredient selection when we return to Australia.  Diced carrot, grated carrot, julienne carrot, sliced carrot...how about a bit of beetroot?.

Old Mother Midge went to the fridge...

1/3 bag Angus Park prunes (hand delivered special import)
1 handful bayam (amaranth leaves)
2 T Japanese sesame dressing (hand-me-down from neighbour)
2 knubs ginger
1/2 bottle Kikoman soya sauce (another hand-me-down)
1 T organic strawberry jam (more donations)
1 T miso paste
1 t seeded mustard
1/2 C peanut sprouts
1 cucumber
1/2 lime

In the cupboard there is 1 cup of brown lentils, 1 cup of alfalfa seeds, 1 cup of rice and the usual beveage selection. Thankfully there are three papaya and five bananas in the fruit safe that we'll tuck into for dinner. 

 

If you want more eye candy or an excuse to avoid work, there is a new review over at Crema and Crumbs, and photos from our trip to Georgetown here.

prodigal mango returns

Just when we were mourning the end of the mango season and the return to Timorese two-fruits, we had a fortuitous meeting with a local who told us his backyard tree was pregnant with goodness. For less than A$8 we received a basket full of fruit bliss. 

Tom scoffs his like the wild man of the jungle, while I prefer the dainty spoon technique.  Whatever the method, we recommend you eat mangoes naked.

pot luck lunch

We don't need any excuse for a get-together, but with a birthday in the camp there is extra cause for a leisurely lunch and discussion about the state of the wind, tide and swell.  Today's guest of honor is Hal (second from left), the son-in-law of our neighbours Colin & Linda, 300 meters to the south.  Hal, Fliss and their three kids are changing down gears from a frantic Queensland pace to a new chapter in Bali - via two weeks of rubber time under the coconuts.

The walkabout vegie ladies delivered ripe mangoes that I added to a salad of lettuce, tomato, rocket and alfalfa.  The lunch spread was a vibrant mix of local produce and Balinese organic red rice and even the tiniest  hands were digging in. 

tomato relish farm style

The markets are sporting tomatoes by the bucket full at a very low price, so I called upon my pioneering spirit and the Country Women's Association bible of cookery and household hints to make an old fashioned tomato relish. The aroma taps into my olfactory memory of delivering dad a packed lunch or dinner during seeding and harvest on the farm. Cheese, corned beef and tomato relish eaten beside the tractor; the  moist ground freshly tilled or a cloud of wheat dust hanging in the hot air.

Tomato Relish (No 2)

from page 318, 42nd Edition of CWA Cookbook

1 1/2 kilo ripe tomatoes

1 tablespoon sea salt

250 g raw sugar

500 g onions

1 tablespoon mustard

2 tablespoons plain flour

1 1/2 tablespooons curry powder

brown vinegar

Cut up tomatoes and onions finely and sprinkle with salt. Leave for 6 hours or overnight then drain well. 

Put into saucepan, add sugar and enough vinegar to just cover.  Boil for 5 minutes.

Mix flour, mustard and curry to a paste with a little vinegar.  Add to pan and stir well.

Simmer for 1 hour, or until desired thickness is reached. 

If  you like a sweeter pickle, simply add more sugar. 

Allow to cool, then bottle in clean jars. Refrigerate after opening.

salad patch

The local vegetable plots are in full production, and a source of much envy and admiration to this lazy gardener.  Carrots, spring onions, tomatoes, eggplant, lettuce, chilli, basil and a variety of Asian leafy greens. All organic, watered by hand and eaten  within hours of harvest. Every Tuesday baskets are walked to the weekly markets. This is carbon negative food with zero food miles and an abundance of available nutrients. Super fuel for Aquamen, lontar climbers and wordsmiths.

back from where i've been

Home again after a two week stint in Bali and relieved to be free from the hideous traffic, pollution and noise of Seminyak. Despite my best intention, I always seem to end up there as it is convenient for stocking up on supplies before I return to island isolation. The coffee isn't bad either.  For the last two nights our hotel was opposite a three storey building site where work continued until 11pm, followed by all night horn beeping and motorbike revving.  The majority of Bali holidaymakers are only just warming up around 10pm, so wouldn’t even notice, but for this koala it was torture.

Tom’s parents are here for their first visit. Our days are full of cultural outings, nature walks, swimming and Feldenkrais, with Tom putting his dad to work on outstanding projects. Today we have a fierce scrabble tournament on the go. Tom's in the lead, with me sniffing a close second.

For photos from my trip to Bali, and to see where I laze about in my resort manager's bikini, visit Treacle for Stickybeaks here, here and here.

I'll leave you with a Bingin barrel, taken from the pool at Mick's Place.

green for go

It hasn't rained for over five weeks, and with the cooler, dry weather the leafy greens have flourished.  Lettuce has made a welcome appearance, and watercress is an unexpected bonus. It makes a spicy pesto, and is delicious tossed with orange and walnuts.  Our adopted goat, Bo Diddley, and her grown-up baby, are never far away to take receipt of their daily feed.  Greens in one end, fertiliser for the garden out the other.

out on the town

On the village chief's new motorbike for the ride into town. Despite the shock absorbers and a padded seat, a scooter is not built to comfortably negotiate the pot holes and corrugations, and while the first half  hour was pleasant enough, the butt numbing pain soon set in.  I long to ditch the helmet and take the weight off my neck, but catastrophic thinking imagines us skidding into a roving goat and my head meeting the road.  Slowly, slowly.  There isn't anything in town worth rushing for.

We are on the mission to find steel and a boilermaker-welder to build us a new, termite proof tank stand.  Tom draws up the specs while I sip floral iced tea and admire the decor.  There is little choice of eating joints in town, and nothing you would call a cafe. This in Indo for Indonesians.  Rice, deep fried balls of unidentified meat, oily curry and boiled beans. A still life display in the window behind a lacy curtain.  Very still and not much life. We select a jackfruit curry, boiled kankung (water spinach) and rice. $1.00 per plate.   For dessert there is the option of an es campur from a street cart. Jellied bits with all artificial colours and flavourings, shaved ice, sweetened condensed milk and coconut.  A month's sugar intake in a single bowl.

Behold we have a shopping list, and start our search in the magic shop for WD40, a battery charger, a toilet seat and 2cm screws.  Plenty of buckets, no toilet seat and a rusty battery charger.  It is also he place to get your official photos taken; amongst the exhaust pipes, fans and guitars. 

Waste management is not high on the council agenda, nor the public's awareness.  The sign above says "It is prohibited to throw rubbish into the river and ocean."

We track down a metal worker, who has a side line in busted motorbikes.  He claims he is up for the job and will study the plans and SMS us with a quote, which we will duly counter offer, and much polite laughter will ensue as we agree on a fair price.