Free Fuel

It’s dark and quiet. I’m here alone in the very late night, or very early morning. I’m in the kiln shed firing our wood fired kiln. It’s not 5 am yet and I’ve started our 8th wood firing for this year. We can’t start our firings too soon in the year, as there is a fire ban in place until the end of March or sometimes April, depending on the year and the state of the forest and the immediate past rainfall. I have fired our kilns during the summer in years gone by. But only after a good fall of rain, when the fire danger is reduced to low/medium risk. When the bushland all around is wet, there is no chance of my kiln starting a fire. If I want to fire over the summer period. I pack the kiln and seal it up, then wait for rain. It can take a month or more, but I can’t take any risks when there is a fire danger.
IMG_2741 IMG_2743 IMG_2747
We are firing the mid-sized kiln of 1.25 cu. m. We don’t fire the big kiln anymore. At 4.6 cu. m. it is just too big for us now and the amount of pottery sales that we can make these days. We have found that it is better for us to fire the this kiln more often and get all our tests through in reasonable time so that I can continue my research into my local raw materials, especially the development of my single stone porcelain bodies and glazes. Now that we have a reliable small wood kiln that can fire our tests in at any time, it just takes 3 hours, this will make our testing and research regime a lot easier.  As the night marches on relentlessly into the early dawn, the birds start carolling, mostly magpies by the sound of it. They just love the dawn and make a big fuss about it. Dawn seems to be some time after 5 am when it is still quite dark, and before 6 am, when I can switch off the light and make entries into the kiln log without needing the light on. The birds are carolling madly now as it gets lighter in the eastern sky. It’s a tremendously beautiful sound, so gentle and lulling. It’s like some pure form of happiness made audible. It’s infectious. I feel happy! Why are they so infectiously happy? Are they celebrating the fact that they are still alive and not eaten during the night by some predator?
IMG_2756 IMG_2757
IMG_2759
In this unique firing, I’m burning a type of timber that I don’t know anything about. I’ve been given a dead tree by the local tree-lopper guy. I don’t know what sort of tree it is, as it has no leaves or bark, but I know that it is not something that I have come across before. This is nothing unusual, because there are thousands of different tree species and as a rule, I only burn the local trees from around here. Mostly trees that Janine and I have grown here on our 7 acres of highland sclerophyll forest over the years. However, because I’ve lived in this little hamlet here for over 40 years. I have met a lot of people and they know that I have a wood fired kiln, so every now and then someone turns up with an offer of free wood for the kiln, just to get rid of it and not have to pay the dumping fee at the local council recycling centre, which is also located at the other end of the shire and 45 minutes drive away and is quite a drive. We are located at the opposite end of the shire from the recycling centre.
What I do know about this dead tree is that it is interesting. It is quite light in weight like a soft wood such as pine, but it has a strange twisted, interlocking grain like a hard wood such as a eucalypt. It turns out to be quite hard to split, even using the hydraulic splitter. It’s quite a tough wood. I’m hoping that it will burn well. But this is not knowable in advance until I actually get it into the fire box and see what happens over time. I have a lot of wood already cut, split and stacked ready for firing. I have several stacks, each about enough for a firing. I have stringybark, paperbark, ironbark and she oak all ready and prepared as well as a firings worth of radiata pine, from a load of trees brought here by a local contractor who was asked to clear a building block to make a house site. I naively said “yes. Bring the trees here, sure, I’ll take them”!
It turned out to be 8 truck loads in his 8 tonne truck. He had more, but I just ran out of space to dump it safely. He kindly sawed off the root ball, de-limbed them all and cut them to the 6 metre length of his tipper tray so that they would stack and carry efficiently. I have no way to know if each load was the full 8 tonnes or not, but it surely was a very large pile of logs by the time the last load was dumped here. It took up all of my wood storage space and then some. I could hardly move the ute and wood splitter around. I simply had to start at the far end and whittle away at the pile until I could make a space large enough to turn around in. Then I worked my way cutting and splitting all the way up one side to clear the driveway, back up to the road. I have been working my way through this huge 1/4 acre pile of trees for a while now and there is still a big pile of logs left to work through.
DSC01083 DSC01079
These logs are free fuel. Something not to be sneezed at in these days of increasing energy prices, but only free as long as you already have a spare 1/4 acre of forest clearing, a couple of chain saws, a tractor to drag the piles apart safely, a hydraulic wood splitter and a ute to transport the cut wood around, and then a wood shed to keep it all dry once it is cut and split to be stored and seasoned, then, ultimately I can burn it for “free”!
This firing has a lot of tests in it, as all my firings do. If I don’t have time to make some new tests and follow-up on new ideas. I feel like there is something wrong, something missing. After a lifetime of potting. It’s 48 years now since I got to throw my first pot on the potters wheel and was hooked. Any firing without tests in it is an empty firing. It’s the test pieces. The promise of something new revealed, that makes the unpacking extra special and not just plain mechanical work. It is the stimulus of expectation that makes the difference. I know that I should be aware of my all too human failing of expectation, just observe it and let it pass, but it just hangs around until I see those tests.  As it often turns out, they are not very special, but every once in a while there is something interesting that makes it all so much more rewarding and worth while. It’s probably something like a kind of addiction. Hanging out for that next hit of pleasure, that next intellectual/aesthetic indulgence. It can just be a test ring or a shard. The object itself isn’t all that important, it’s the internal machinations and the thought processes that it provokes.
I have 10 new body pastes in this firing, but so as to keep it all under control. I am using all my reliable and well-tested rock glazes on them. Glazes that have proved to be suitably stable and beautiful. I can’t afford to use unknown bodies with unknown glazes on them. That would be asking for trouble. I have set up a system where I am testing each of the 10 new porcelain body recipes with each of my 10 rock glazes. Each new clay recipe/variation glazed with 10 well-known glazes. A hundred bowls in all. This should reveal something. I don’t know quite what yet, but I’m keen to find out. Even if there is nothing special or ’showable’ it’ll still be something to cross off as not worthwhile, so then I can work on something completely different. I suspect though, that there will be something in there. I just don’t know which one. This firing hopefully will reveal the best, or most likely contender for further refinement.
I’d like eventually, to be able to make something that is both meaningful and beautiful — on a shoestring
All will be revealed in a few days.
This is the life of a frugal self-reliant potter. Nothing is ever finished, nothing is perfect, nothing lasts.
Its just like a good salad!
IMG_2416
Best wishes
Steve

The Last Beta Firing? Success at iteration 7

Janine has just completed the 7th firing and design iteration of the little wood fired kiln. It worked well and there are now no more obvious and glaring changes that need to be made to the design. Of course there are a lot of little issues that will need to be tweaked over the coming months. But I can’t see anything that will require a major rebuild. I think that this design as it stands now is a good one. – Until I think of something better!

The verandah of the pottery now has a collection of these little prototypes all parked there out of the weather. They all work well enough at lower temps, so I will use them for our raku firing weekend workshops. The image shows a very full wheel barrow of wood, enough for two or more firings to stoneware.
The design that I have ended up with is now ready for a limited production run.
This last firing of Janine’s was more or less perfect. Except that we managed to crack a kiln shelf. Janine had a lot of flat ware, so I retrieved a kiln shelf from the rack that hadn’t been fired for over 20 years. I think that the shock of a fast firing and possibly moisture absorbtion that couldn’t escape fast enough was the problem, as this hasn’t happened before. I would usually like to season a new kiln shelf more gentle. Perhaps by rubbing in salt and pepper with a little olive oil might work next time?:) By lunch time we’re famished. Because I managed to catch up with the fresh fish man, we have ultra-fresh sashimi grade tuna. So its sashimi for lunch.
IMG_2609
I also make fresh pippies in white wine, chilli and saffron sauce for dinner. What more could you want to celebrate a successful firing day. Followed by a fresh salad from the garden. We have a local grower of saffron now, so we support them.
IMG_2583
I have been making a new batch of spy holes for my kiln factory. I throw them on the wheel, very slowly, out of a very coarse mix of crushed high alumina grog and a small amount of kaolin to bind it. The mix is so aggressive that my hands are starting to hurt after just one pot-board full. This mix really takes your skin off. But that’s OK. 20 or so will last me for another year. If I wanted to make any more I’d have to wear gloves. I’ve heard some potters claim that they throw till their fingers bleed, but I’m not that stupid. I know when to stop.
I fire the spy holes in the little wood kiln. This little wonder fires cone 8 on the bottom shelf, cone 9 in the middle and cone 10 at the top. A perfectly useable working stoneware temperature range. Certainly OK for a 3 to 3 1/2 hour firing schedule. My bowls turn out well too. Some nice, soft, pastel glazes.
I’m really pleased that everything has come to a clear resolution at this time. As for the next couple of months. I’m fully booked on other projects and I wont have any time to play with this little kiln for a while. In the evening we de-seed chillies for drying in the kitchen window, along with beans and corn, destined for drying and grinding for polenta. I also finish drying some tomatoes in the oven. Once dried in this way they have the potential to keep almost indefinitely, but they never do. They are so yummy that I eat them like lollies. They never last the year. It’s great to add a handful into winter stocks. They add that certain piquant, sharp sweetness to sauces or a ragu.
This is just another day in the mixed household of self-reliance.
Best wishes from Mr. Beta and Ms Better

Small portable stoneware wood fired kiln. cont.

We have just fired the 5th incarnation of our little, portable, stoneware capable, wood fired kiln. It fired very well, again easily in 3 hours. It just cruises along at its own pace. 1 hr to 1000 oC and then 2 hrs to 2 1/2 hrs in reduction to stoneware cone 10 over.

This variation was to test out the new chimney arrangement and that worked perfectly, some much better than the previous one. I am very happy with that. Another problem solved!

The hard-working firing team, going at it flat out. Half way through the wood stack in the barrow. Going for the big final effort, no holes barred! Go for it ladies!

IMG_2604

I have it adjusted now so that as the temperature reaches 1000 oC. The kiln automatically goes into reduction. I don’t have to use a damper to make this happen. The kiln continues to rise steadily over the next two hours without having to alter any settings in the firebox. It’s lovely.

However, I notice slight difference in the fired surfaces around the setting, so I conceive of another experiment to try and even out this anomaly. I have everything that I need in stock in the spare parts shelf in the pottery, so no need to go out and buy anything. I spend the morning cutting, grinding and painting all the new bits and the kiln is primed and ready to fire again. I need to glaze some more work for this firing, so there will be a days delay while they dry out. This will be variation/refinement firing number 6.

I’ve learnt from bitter experience that if I fire fast with freshly applied glazes. I can blow them off the pot on the underneath side. All my bodies and glazes are currently made here onsite from locally collected and processed rocks, shales and ashes. Everything is made onsite and it takes a month of Sundays to get it all organised, dried, crushed and milled and then bagged ready for inclusion in the glazes. These are weighed out and then sometimes re-milled. and at other times, just passed through a very fine sieve to extract any small detritus that was caught in a gap around the lid of the ball mill and didn’t get fully ground. Glazes with no clay in them are notoriously delicate and friable to handle once dry and very prone to just falling off from the underneath side of pots. Of course i use a little bentonite to help stabilise them and shrink them on as well as creating a little bit of dry strength, but I have found that I can only add 1 or 2 % before it starts to change some of the glazes.

Tragically, as always seems to happen. I found yet one more issue with this configuration that needs a little more thought. During this last firing, I notice that I could improve the kiln shelf and stainless steel grating arrangement. So it’s back to the drawing board, or in this case, the work bench and I make a new set of one-piece ceramic supports that I hope will work a lot better. I pull the kiln to pieces and start again from scratch, right back to floor level and create a new setting design.

Maybe this will be the last of the beta firings?

We will fire again today with a load of Janine’s work in it this time. As she has a load glazed and dried ready to go.

Always so much more to learn.

A Healthier Substitute for Common Salt?

I like to limit my salt intake. I achieve this mainly by limiting the amount of processed food that I buy. Processed foods tend to be loaded up with salt, sugar and fat. Not particularly good for us in excess. By making nearly all our meals from scratch, using vegetables from our own organic garden, we can be fairly certain of what is in most of our food. So we can limit our salt, fat and sugar intake. Salt tends to cause hypertension and hardening of the arteries Something to be avoided. I was brought up in a household where my mother used very little salt. The only salt in the house that I can remember was ‘Blooms’ celery salt, that came in a cardboard box. it was used spearingly at table. So I’m used to the slightly bland, less stimulating tastes of the likes of Tuscan bread and cultured, unsalted butter.

Perhaps this is why I have always had low blood pressure. At least I did. I used to get up in the morning and feel a bit dizzy when I stood up after getting out of bed and sometimes had to sit down again for a while, before heading to the bathroom, waiting for my blood pressure to catch up. Once in the shower, I would get a bit dizzy again as the warm water relaxed my blood vessels and my pressure would drop again. Sometimes I would start to see stars circulating in my vision. Just like in the cartoon – only these ones weren’t coloured, just grey. I didn’t enjoy any of this and mentioned it to my family doctor on one of the rare occasions that I ever went, as I have never really had a need to go. He told me that there was no treatment for low blood pressure and that I should be careful. Especially when driving first thing in the morning, because when he tested my blood pressure it was something like 60 over 90. He asked me if I was OK? I said that I was. I felt normal. He looked a bit shocked and warned me that I should be careful that I didn’t pass out unexpectedly.

15 years ago, I decided to start taking a little salt in my diet, and for 10 years I took a small amount of common salt each week. Now, 10 years on, my blood pressure is up to normal. So I stopped taking ordinary salt a few years ago. These days I use a salt substitute that I mix up my self. It has a small amount of common salt in it, but is mostly composed of vegetable matter.

I buy a readily available brand of vegetable salt called ‘trocomare’ (250 gram pkt). This seems to be about half sodium chloride and half vegetable powder. I empty this into a large mixing bowl. To this I add a 500 gram packet of kelp powder, plus 100 grams of ‘K’ salt – Potassium Chloride, some powdered celery seed, if I have it, and one or two small packets of Sumac 30 grams. This is all mixed up and put into sealed containers, to keep it dry, ready for use. The kelp powder has a small amount of sea salt in it, but most importantly, it contains iodine.

Australian soils are quite low in iodine, being very ancient and well weathered, This is especially prevalent in the South Eastern States. Our ancient soils have not had the benefit of massive glacial activity pushing finely ground volcanic rock dust with it that would eventually degrade into deep, rich, fertile soils. So our soils around here are depleted of iodine.

For so many years our nation used glass milk bottles to deliver the daily milk. These bottles were re-cycled, washed, sterilised with iodine and re-used. The infinitesimal remnants of iodine that were left in the glass from the sterilisation were just enough to keep all Australians who drank milk supplied with their daily dose of Iodine. We didn’t have any trouble with iodine deficiency here in the cities, where glass milk bottles were used. Since we have economically irrationalised ourselves, and milk is delivered in plastic, or plastic-coated cardboard, now we are developing an iodine deficiency again.

This iodine deficiency was first noted here back in 1900. There have even been parliamentary inquiries into the mandatory addition of micro amounts of iodine into general food stuffs, such as bread, through the introduction of iodised salt. This is a practice that has been adopted in New Zealand, and  possibly Germany and Switzerland as well as far as I understand it. But I could be wrong on this.

I choose to buy iodised salt when I do buy salt, but it isn’t very often, as a small packet lasts a very long time because I try not to use very much of it. Most of it tends to get used mixed with lemon skins to scour and clean my copper cooking pots and pans. It does a lovely job. Every pan gets a good going over at least once every few weeks. It keeps them looking bright and shiny.

What is the right amount of salt? Salt is certainly addictive. once you get used to that spike in taste, everything else seems to be very bland. I used to know someone who added salt to everything. He didn’t like my food, as it was too bland for him. When he made porridge in the morning, he added so much salt that I couldn’t eat it. It was just too salty for me. when he made a low salt batch the next morning for me, he couldn’t eat it, as it tasted too bland for his taste. He had to add a lot more salt into his bowl. He said that he just couldn’t taste it.

So is salt good or bad for you? I don’t know. Life is a big one-way gamble. I’ve put my chips on the low salt option. It wasn’t too hard to do, as I was brought up that way. It seems normal to me. There just might be something to be said for blandness. It might help me appreciate the subtleties of delicate flavours? I certainly taste the stronger flavours when I get them. And you know, I don’t really like very salty foods. They just taste too salty to me, so I tend to avoid them.

Everything in moderation!

I’m grateful that I’m able to make these choices.

Pan Fried Figs in Apple Toffee

Because we are now past the solstice, it is time for the figs to begin to ripen. We enjoy them cooked in a little butter with a squeeze of lemon juice and a dash of our own preserved, concentrated apple juice. It slowly simmers down to a concentrate of apple toffee with soft poached figs.

It is pretty amazing, but last nights figs in preserved rich red preserved plum juice was  even a little better I feel. It’s all so hard to say, as every bit of it is so, fragrant, soft and delicious. Wonderfully soft and engaging while being a little bit sharp and sweet and delicately textural. It’s one of the few times where a little bit of ice-cream goes so well. It improves it and extends the texture, mouth feel and flavour.

So simple, so flavourful, so easy. Plant yourself a fig tree and enjoy the benefits – if you can keep the birds away!

Nina had to spend quite some time bagging the fruit to protect it from the birds.

IMG_2584

Peppers, with Peppers, with Pepperoni

This months meat meal is pork. Pork in the form of a hot spiced sausage. I know that I shouldn’t be eating preserved meats. There is plenty of evidence out there to indicate that the preservatives like sodium nitrate and not at all healthy, but on a special occasion once a year. I think that the phrase, everything in moderation might apply.

So, last night I made green peppers (capsicum), with chilli peppers and pepperoni sausage. Actually, it wasn’t pepperoni at all, it was chorizo, but I like the sound of the alliteration. I could have called it chorizo with chilli and chapsicum, but that isn’t as good.

It turned out pretty well. I was pleased with it. Everything except the sausage came from our garden. I started by frying very finely sliced leeks in olive oil until they were golden and crispy, then added 1/2 a knob of finest diced garlic along with the roughly chopped capsicums and chills, plus the chunks of chorizo. Stir fried for a few minutes and then simmered with the lid on for a couple more to sweat out all the juices.

It was hot and spicy, but still crisp and crunchy to bite into. lovely!

IMG_2517

I am very grateful to be able to live this wholesome, self-reliant life.

Sugo and Passata

The summer is over and we are now firmly into the autumn. The leaves on the fruit trees in the orchards are turning yellow and dropping, but there is still plenty of action in the vegetable garden. In this late season, the little yellow tomatoes are doing well and sprawling all over the garden beds, putting down adventitious roots as they go and still flowering and fruiting well. They sprawl about the place like drunken revellers at the end of a very boozy party, making a mess and refusing to leave. I’ve picked a wicker basketful full of these little wonders. They are slowing down now, but I can still fill the basket once a week.

IMG_2496

 I am engaged in the repetitive task of boiling them down into tomato sugo, then sieving the result and heating it again to reduce it further and concentrate the full flavour of summer tomatoes. I will find lots of uses for it in the coming months for the winter stews and casseroles. Then in spring and even early summer I will use it up in all manner sauces. We don’t get our first ripe tomatoes here until around, or even after Xmas, but even then, they start of in a very shy way, only giving us just enough ripe fruit for our salad lunches.
The really productive time for tomatoes is now, right at the end of the season. So it’s sugo and passata making time.
I make my own version of preserved tomato pulp. I add in onion, garlic, capsicum, chilli and basil, as these are all producing well at this time of year, so it makes sense to incorporate all that I have in the garden that is compatible.
If I’m pressed for time, and aren’t we all, always pressed for time? I just make a quick boiled down sugo or sauce. Mostly tomatoes, placed in a big stew pan and brought to the boil. Seeds and skins all left in and the whole lot ladled into heated glass jars straight from the oven. This works OK, but the flavour from the seeds and skins that are left in there is not as good as when they are removed. It seems to make the sauce a bit thin and sharp somehow? So, I’ve found that it is worth the effort to pass the whole lot through the rotary moullii sieve. But time is always in short supply, so time has to be made for a good passata. Passata sauce has to be sieved. I believe that ‘passata’ means passed through a sieve in Italian? Passata = passed? Whereas ’sugo’ just means sauce.
I haven’t made sugo for two years now. I prefer the flavour of passata, so that is what I plan to do again this season and every year. But the best of intensions often get side tracked or even de-railed completely. So when everything goes temporarily pear shaped. I can still make sugo. I have tried to make time to get every batch of this autumns tomatoes twice cooked and moulied. so far I have been successful and have let other things go temporarily to make the time for it. Something has to give and that something is watching the grim offerings on what Peter Rushforth use to call ‘The idiot box’! No loss there.
I like to add some herbs of whatever takes my fancy. I must say that my favourite is always basil, sweet basil, and plenty of it, but I also vary it with sweet marjoram, thyme and or bay leaves. And of course pepper, but very little salt, just a touch. I make my own salt substitute mix, but that’s another story for another blog.
IMG_2500
 I like to brown some brown onions in olive oil to start with. We are getting to the end of our own onions by this time of the year. I’ve never been very successful with growing a years worth of onions. The small seeds soon get swamped out with weeds and it’s a lot of work to get them up and above the competition, so that I can mulch them to suppress the weeds. I do what I can, but it’s never enough. Still, we do get some onions to dry for 3 or 4 months use.
I dice the onions very fine so that they will break down easily and eventually pass through the fine mouli easily. I soften them out slowly in Australian olive oil and when they are translucent, I add in a few knobs of our smallest, under-size garlic. We grow a few hundred knobs of garlic each year and about a quarter of them never reach a suitable size, for one reason or another. They remail small, about 1.5 to 3 cm acress, not worth plaiting and hanging. They all get sun-dried and then stored in a large wooden bowl on the kitchen counter. I top and tail them and cut them in half, crush them with the side of a knife to break down the fibres and release all the flavour and them drop them into the pot with skins and all. It will all get sieved out at the end, so it won’t matter. Peeling small garlic cloves is a really slow and in this case an almost pointless job as I’m going to sieve it anyway. So this is my easy, fast solution to the small garlic clove problem. How to use everything that we grow, the good, the ugly and the undersized!
IMG_2396 IMG_2398 IMG_2399
I put on two medium sized boilers of tomatoes, capsicum, chilli, basil mix. This time there is even a few zucchini’s in there and a couple of very ripe aubergines. It is easily reduced down to just one medium boiler of passata after it has all been passed through the mouli. I re-heat it all and bring it to the boil for a few minutes and then let is simmer slowly to reduce and concentrate. It also sterilises it. Meanwhile I get the glass jars washed and ready to pre-heat in the oven to 120oC for 10 minutes or so and I simmer the lids equally.
IMG_2503 IMG_2406 IMG_2504IMG_2505IMG_2424 IMG_2509
The easiest part of the whole exercise is to pour the concentrated liquid puree into the jars and screw on the caps. As they cool, I can hear the sharp, loud ‘clack’ noise as the whole lot shrinks and creates a vacuum in each of the jars in turn, sucking down the ‘pop-top’ lid, to indicate that it is now vacuum sealed These jars will now keep for up to 12 months without any further energy being applied to them. It’s a wonderfully fast and efficient way to preserve food. It’s the cooking and sieving that takes the time, but spread over a couple of evenings, it’s not such a big job and I really enjoy it. It’s a seasonal special event. Something to be looked forward to and relished because it’s a real, honest, creative activity. It might also be supremely healthy, tomato juice concentrate, loaded with lycopene, especially the way that we do it, entirely organic and free of any fertilisers, sprays and preservatives. Even if lycopene isn’t as healthy as some people claim, passata is still amazingly delicious.
I don’t think that many people are aware of this kind of activity these days and how important it is to take control of your own life and take as much personal responsibility for your actions and your own health as possible. It doesn’t get exhibited, or advertised, talked about or reviewed. It is not sexy or marketable. It is just one of the small invisible things that we do to make a tiny part of our larger life here.
The really big job as always, is the washing up!
IMG_2507
Best wishes
The saucy Ms Sugo and her concentrated Mr Passata

Blessed are the Cheese Makers

We live out our quiet days here in the Southern Highlands. On most days, nothing much happens. I turn the stiffening porcelain slip on the drying area. We throw or turn pots. We mow, weed and water the gardens and orchards. We harvest, preserve and cook our vegetables. We make clay and glazes from the rocks, ashes and shales that I collect out and about in the local environment. Some of it is 100% sourced off our own special little piece of land, right here.
We like to support local endeavours and a while ago we were invited to visit the local sheeps milk dairy. The pecora dairy has about 120 milking sheep of the East Friesian breed variety. The dairy isn’t open to visitors, but our son buys their sheeps milk, pecorino cheese for the Biota restaurant where he works.
The dairy makes a range of pecorino cheeses from their sheeps milk. We have bought 3 of them over the years that they have operated here. Apparently there are only two flocks of milking sheep in Australia. This one here locally and another one in a different state.
IMG_3679
We arrive with our son just before milking time and all the sheep have made their way down from the hills and far pastures to the dairy, ready for the milking. It takes about an hour to milk  the 120 odd sheep in groups of about 10 in the milking stalls. The sheep come in for the milking twice a day, morning and night. Each one gets closely examined and scrutinised while in the care of the milk maid. She examines them closely and makes remarks on the progress of a pregnancy or anything else unusual that might appear.
IMG_3672
The sheep get a feed of a high protein supplement while they are being milked. There is an ingenious contraption that feeds them while they are being milked. They are very keen to get their noses into the trough as soon as the gates open and allow them in for the milking. The contraption allocates a place at the feeding trough and a pair of suction milking cups to each animal individually. As they take their place at the trough, they push a bar that opens the gate for the next sheep to enter, and so in turn the whole row is neatly filled. The complete arrangement is raised up, so that the milkers don’t have to bend. Once milked and fed, the whole calliope folds in on itself and rises up to allow the sheep to walk through and out of the building, allowing the next batch of 10 sheep to enter. They anticipate the workings of the milking sequence and cue up and wait on the race. Waiting their turn.
IMG_3682 IMG_3681
It’s a beautiful thing to see and experience. These organic, wholesome people love their sheep and care for them lovingly. They take a lot of time over their charges and treat them with care and affection.
We are very privileged to be allowed to tag along with our son on this special occasion and we are grateful.
We come home to a light supper of, you guessed it,  some local pecorino cheeses, a few of our hazel nuts and some fresh garden veggies.
IMG_2353 Copying
The Lovely asks if we should think about making cheese again.
I say No Whey!

The Chalking Room Floor

I have just finished building a new kiln for the National Art School in Sydney. Used another pallet of lightweight refractory bricks and turned the empty pallet that they came on into another arch formwork. Every kiln I build is custom built for the customer to suit their specific requirements, so every kiln seems to turn out just a little bit different. Hence I need to make a new arch formwork for most of them. I have stacks of different sized formers in stock, just waiting for someone to order a kiln that is the same cross-section, rise and dimension. But it rarely happens. It’s a lot of work to make the shuttering for each kiln, but it is absolutely necessary if you want a beautiful arch that won’t drop spalls down onto your work during the firing. I really like to recycle the empty pallet and its nails, into something positive with a real purpose, instead of just burning it.
Arch formers are actually quite lovely things in their own right if they are made with care and attention to detail, and yet nobody sees them. They remain an invisible, but necessary part of the creation of a beautiful object.
IMG_2318 IMG_2320
IMG_2321 IMG_2323
IMG_2394
Warren tells me a story about the medieval tradition of the chalking floor or the tracing floor. A special room in a cathedral, where in ancient times the master masons would plan out the architectural details of a building and snap out chalk lines of the dimensions of the job at hand, directly onto the plastered stone floor in real time and one-to-one scale. These plans were then transposed to the workmen on the job in many seperate, small details, so that no one person, except the master mason knew the whole story and how the design, angles and dimensions were achieved.
I chalk out the details of the arch to be built onto the steel workbench top with boilermakers chalk and this is then transposed onto the pallet wood that I have just dissassembled and recovered for re-use. Warren watches me working out the details. Swinging the radius with a trammel line and dividing the inner arc by the taper of the brick unit size. It’s medieval in its simplicity and complexity. Nothing has changed in one thousand years. A plumb line, a straight edge, a measure and some chalk. The end result is beautiful and elegant. I now know the size, taper, and number of arch bricks that I need to cut to make a perfect arch, as well as the angle and dimension of the springer bricks that will support the arch.
However, unlike the ancient masons, I will use a diamond blade saw bench and a steel jig to do the precise cutting.
IMG_2316
The Lovely comes down to the workshop with freshly chilled, dark grape juice drinks for us on this very hot day and asks what I am doing, looking over at me chalking out my secret mens business. I explain that if I tell her, then she will have to die!
Only the master mason can know the secret of our techniques. Nothing personal, it’s just the medieval Master Masons traditional Lore.
She tells me that I can make my own dark grape juice in future.
But she can’t tell me the recipe otherwise I’ll have to die! Seems fair.
fond regards from Mr and Mrs Mason

Vendange

It’s autumn now and the grapes are fully ripe. We have been dealing with them in batches over the last few weeks. Yesterday we made the last pick. The Vendange is over for another year. All safely picked, juiced, heat-treated, sterilised and bottled. The rich red dark grape juice bottled in this way will keep for 12 months easily. We make it now in the autumn and drink most of it as a refreshing cool drink next summer in 9 months time.

We have preserved dark grape juice from both our shiraz grapes as well as our isabella fragolino varieties. They both make good dark grape juice, but I think that I prefer the slightly foxy, aromatic density of the fragolino juice to the somewhat austere and peppery shiraz. We abandoned making wine from our grapes sometime ago, as it takes a lot of effort for something that is just plain ordinary and we can buy good wine quite cheaply here in Australia. We have learnt to be selective about where we expend our limited energies, so as to get the best return on our efforts.
IMG_8529IMG_2106IMG_2107
After a lot of experiments, we have learnt that dark grape juice is the best that we can do with what we’ve got, although, this year, early in the season, The Resourceful One also tried her hand at making very early season verjuice.
IMG_2363 IMG_2364 IMG_2366
We macerate the grapes and sieve out the fresh unfermented ‘must’, skins and seeds. The pure juice is heated on the stove to sterilise it and then bottled into heated jars, fresh from the oven. It all takes time, but this is the quickest and most efficient way that we have found to deal with the harvest, that gives and exceptional quality of product. It also has the added benefit of requiring no energy to store it for a year and keep it beautifully preserved for when you really appreciate it.
IMG_6349
We have been out and when we return in the evening, we find Annabelle Sloujetté’s ute spread-eagled across the front of our house. She has her own key and has let herself in. She is on her way somewhere, or back, and slides her ute into a sort of parked position in the front garden. She asks where Janine is and I have to say that I don’t know. She was here with me just a minute ago. “Ah! Slougetté responds. ‘Miss Flit’. That is why I call her Miss Flit. She flits in and she flits out, never stays still long enough to carry on a complete conversation. A complete conversation with ‘Miss Flit’ is like a Dickens serialised novel. It takes time and you have to be patient as it evolves.”
We end the day with a vegetarian BBQ. Nothing special, just quick and simple, place your sliced, freshly picked vegetables on the barbie and turn them when they are softened, Zucchini, aubergines, little golden nugget pumpkin and capsicums. They couldn’t be fresher and cooking outside at this time of year in the evening is a delight. The cooling breeze has arrived and the aromas emanating make my mouth water in anticipation. I make an autumn salsa out of our little, late-season, yellow  tomatoes, some garlic and chillis, while the bbq looks after itself. The girls are tête-à-tête, deep in gossip.
I plate up to table and we eat them with relish. I like a spoonful of my piquant home-made spicy plum sauce on my bbq’d veggies, but quince paste also works well I think.
IMG_2359
When we wake, she is gone. Only her tell-tale signature circle work on the front lawn tells the tale of her visit.
Best wishes
From Mr and Mrs Flit