Lamb Sausages

I promised I'd review these sausages, so here it is.
What more can I say? Once again, the fine folk at Wai-Ora have outdone themselves. These are no ordinary bangers. I love it when you can have something like a sausage and really taste what you're eating. For the price-tag of $5.00 for 6 sausages, they were expensive in comparison to the ones you might find at the supermarket, other than the very high end ones, but the difference here is simply the quality of the product, the way it tastes, and knowledge that the meat isn't processed all to hell before it gets to you. It's the taste of honesty.

I cooked ours up with vege hash, preboiling the sausages slightly before grilling them.
Dished up with peas and veges fresh from the market, these were really superb. Not even any need for gravy, as the sausages are just so flavourful on their own they just don't need it.
My next Wai-Ora review will be of the Forequarter Rolled Roast, which we had on Labour Weekend. Watch this space!

Crunchy Lemon Muffins

I have said in the past that I need to post more desserts here, but the fundamental flaw in that plan is that I really don't do desserts. Luckily, my lovely wife has earned the moniker Dessert Chef for a reason.

Not so much a dessert or a pudding as a sweet treat, these lemon muffins are straight from Kiwi legend cook Alison Holst's repertoire. They're sweet yet tart, and soft on the inside but crunchy on the outside. They're more than just a dessert. They're an artform.

Crunchy Lemon Muffins

(Makes 6 large muffins and 12 mini Muffins - so probably makes 12 normal-sized muffins - that's my inexpert guess, based on what I have to move out of the way in the oven drawer when I'm trying to get a roast ready...)

Sift the following into a bowl:

2 Cups of Flour
4 t Baking Powder
3/4 Cup of Sugar

Melt 75g of butter in a bowl and add 1 Cup of milk, 1 egg, and the grated rind of 1 large lemon (or 2 small lemons) and combine well with a fork. Combine wet and dry ingredients until the dry ingredients have been lightly dampened but not thoroughly mixed. Divide the mixture into greased muffin trays and bake at 200C for 10 mins.

Stir together 1/4 cup of lemon juice and 1/4 cup of sugar, without dissolving the sugar. Brush this over the muffins as soon as they are removed from the oven. Remove the muffins from the trays as quickly as possible so that the sugar doesn't set and stick to the tray. Brush any excess mixture over the underside of the muffins.

I never thought I'd say it

This post is so important that it's skipping the queue and pushing in at the front.

It contains the following mind-blowing revelation: Asparagus is delicious.

I'm not talking about the chewy muck that comes in cans, or even the finger-thick monstrosities that you can buy at the supermarket when it's in season, which requires more energy to chew and digest than you'll ever get out of it in the process (yes, that's a completely unscientific exaggeration which I won't even try to back up - it's just an ingrained prejudice). The good stuff - which you can currently find at farmers' markets for anywhere from $1.50 to $2.00 a bunch - is the crisp new baby tips. These are so sweet and crunchy they deserve to be gobbled up by anyone who has the good sense to lay their hands on them.
As to how to cook them, it couldn't be easier. The truth is that you pretty much only want to get them warm. Any more than that and they'll just go soggy and chewy like their bigger brothers and sisters.

Most nights we cook up a little steamer of carrots and broccoli. I steam the carrot for 10 minutes, adding the broccoli after 5 minutes. For the asparagus, just break off the bottom 1/4 of the stalks and pop them in the steamer when you take it off the heat, and let the steamer sit while you dish your plates. After that 2-3 minutes, the asparagus will be warm and moist and still crunchy and sweet. I drizzle a teeny bit of extra virgin olive oil on them too, and eat it all up straight away before it gets cold.
I can't believe I just did a plug for asparagus. Is that a sign of some degenerative disease? Seriously, this is lovely stuff, just coming into season, cheap and plentiful at the markets right now, and you would be doing yourself a big favour by getting it into you (without even starting on all the good stuff that must be in it - it's green all over, for goodness' sake!).

A Dad responds to Lyn Craig

It's taken me a while to get this post up because I wanted to be able to supply the audio that I'm responding to, rather than blathering on in the hope that a reader or two might happen to have heard the same interview on Radio New Zealand last Wednesday. I've now got the audio on my computer but have to figure out how to upload the file to Blogger. Any advice?

Meanwhile, the interview can be listened to here, until they take it down.

Lyn Craig, Social Researcher with University of NSW Social Policy Research Centre: Interview with Noelle McCarthy, Radio New Zealand, Wednesday 22 October 2008, 2.10pm (approx 17 minutes)

Having listened to it again, I realise that it was not quite as insulting as it first seemed when I heard it in broken snippets at work the other day, but there are still several statements that Craig bases her research on with which I strongly disagree. And since I have a soapbox, I intend to declaim from it.

The headline grabber is that: "Australian Fathers spend 6-7 minutes a day with their Kids." OK, I'm not Australian, and the research doesn't cover New Zealand, and Craig is not even trying to present a picture of a regressive chauvinistic male population who leave the childcare to the Mums of the world. But what I protest is that a Dad who spends time "reading, talking and playing" with his kids, in her opinion, is not spending time caring for his children. Craig defines "childcare" as sole care and the work of cooking, tidying, changing nappies, bathing, dressing, picking up and dropping off from school etc.

What's a guy supposed to do? Get home and send the wife down the pub until after bedtime, in order to qualify as "caring for" his children?

Men also get no credit for spending time together with the family on the weekend, according to Lyn Craig. Oh, this is all good and well for the family, she says, but it's not childcare as long as the father isn't doing it on his own.

Give us a break!

At the risk of sounding like a backward male, I get up at 6am to go to work and get home around 4.45pm. I know that during that time Dessert Chef has the hard work of getting Isaac up, dressed, fed, entertained, fed again, entertained, changed, fed again, into bed, up, dressed, fed again, entertained, watered, etc etc etc until 4.45 when I get home. I know that this is hard work, that it is sole care, and that it is a completely different dynamic to working together as a family on the weekend or in the evenings.

However...

From the time I get home until Isaac goes to bed, he's my responsibility. I entertain him, we play, I cook the family dinner (with everybody's help, usually), I give Isaac his bath while Dessert Chef does the dishes, I get him into his pyjamas and we read books for anywhere from 10 minutes to half an hour, before I give him some pudding, brush his teeth, give him a bottle, and get him into bed. This is usually about three hours, but according to Lyn Craig, the only time that I would be able to count as "caring" for my son would be the 20 minutes of giving him a bath and getting him dressed. Sure enough, according to Craig, this gives me three times the effort that the average Australian Dad can lay claim to, but for three hours work I feel a bit cheated.

As a family, I know that we are very, very lucky. We can afford to have Mum at home looking after our son, and I have negotiated hours that allow me to have quality time at home in the evenings and weekends to do my bit towards being a Dad and raising my boy. (Sidebar - I put aside a career in a highly lucrative but terribly demanding part of my industry to be able to work those family-friendly hours. We may be a little worse off financially for it, but I have never regretted making that choice.)

Those three hours are what I look forward to all day at work, and so does Dessert Chef, because she knows that when I get home she gets to relax. That's what teamwork is all about. I take offence at the idea that my contribution is nothing more than a hobby.

I'm sure Lyn Craig didn't set out to engage in a campaign of reverse sexism, or to deride the efforts and advances made by progressive members of both genders over the past fifty years. It's not what she has witnessed and reported on that I take issue with. It's how she chooses to define what parenting is. I get the feeling that in her estimation dual-income households where both parents share the duties of child-rearing in combination with outside childcare would be an ideal.

We eschew this concept, for two reasons. For one, the decision to strive for two incomes, however necessary it may be, is all part of the problem that we are facing today with the global economic collapse. There is a line between staying out of poverty and simply being greedy. We choose to place our family above all else and keep our heads above water, rather than pursue the almighty dollar with our every energy. It's tough at times, but it's worthwhile. Secondly, what is the point of working and paying someone else to raise your children if you can possibly afford not to? I know that I'm likely to draw a string of invective about this, because it's one of those hot issues that everyone has a deeply held opinion about, but our feelings are pretty straightforward: the best people who can raise our children are us.

I'd love to hear what others out there think, and how people in circumstances different to ours cope.

Tuna & Corn Fritters

We make cheap and easy stuff sometimes too. More frequently these days, actually, what with the economic downturn and whatnot. Now, so long as you do some fresh salad or veges with this, it's even healthy, which is unusual for anything described as "quick and easy".

Tuna & Corn Fritters

In a bowl, mix up the following:

1 can of whole kernel corn, drained (reserve the fluid);
1 large egg;
1 tin of flaked tuna, drained;
1 onion, finely chopped;
1 cup of flour;
2 tsp baking powder;

Add 1/4 Cup of the corn liquid to the mixture and stir gently, adding more if necessary to reach a smooth consistency. Fry the batter in batches in hot oil and drain on a paper towel.
Delicious with sweet thai chilli sauce, plum sauce, and garlic aioli.

We must be doing something right

I hear a lot of parents (and other non-parental adults) lamenting that their children seem to have no idea where their food actually comes from. Mostly the answer to the question "where do we get milk from?" is not "a cow" but "the shop".

Last weekend we went to Staglands with Aunty L, Uncle B and their kids. Being spring, the place was alive with chicks, ducklings, goslings, kids and lambs.
When Isaac got to this pen, and we told him that this was a lamb, this was his reaction:

"Lamb?"
"Food?"
"Dinner?"

I guess he must know at least that much, then.

The Grand Illusion

A few years ago I had a flatmate whose name now eludes me. He was an Australian guy, travelling with a German girl (whose name was Lisi and may have actually been Austrian), and they rented a room in our Brooklyn (Wellington) flat in the summer of late 1999. Accordingly, in those heady days of pre-millennium angst, there was much talk between those flatting there at the time or visiting (I seem to recall tents on the lawn at New Years, and more people than I care to remember sharing one little bathroom) about what the fateful tick-over into the dreaded year 2000 would really mean. We worried not so much about whether the Student Loan Office computers would sieze up and lose all records of any money we might owe the Government (we were pretty sure they'd have that well covered), nor about whether the videos we had hired on December 30th might be 1000 years overdue on January 2nd, so much as whether or not the archaic missile systems of post-Cold War Europe would poop themselves and rain nuclear armageddon down on the rest of the world.

That, of course, never happened.

I remember talking to this flatmate, let's call him Oz, over a cold beer on a hot afternoon, and being awed by his world-weary wisdom. He mused that it would not be nuclear war that would bring an end to the granduer of the 20th Century, but that the demise of Western Civilisation, not just in the moral sense that the conservative right have been lamenting for sixty years now, would come about when the whole grand illusion of the world economy caved in on itself. America, he predicted, would bring about its own undoing when all the false realities of its financial system were laid bare, and everything would fall from there.

I'm sure that I don't need to summarise for anyone reading this just what has happened to the world markets in recent weeks and months. But here are a few things to consider, thinking about what Oz said to me that day 9 years ago:

• Last week, Wall St crashed further than it did in 1987, despite an injection by the US Govt of about 1 trillion dollars, suggesting that, like most things that are fundamntally flawed, simply throwing more money at the problem will not fix it.
• Iceland is bankrupt. This is a country we're talking about. An entire country. Bankrupt.
• Inflation in Zimbabwe is running at 1,000,000% per day. When faced with numbers like that, how can money mean anything at all?
• The Large Hadron Collider cost around 5 billion pounds over the past ten or so years, making it the most expensive science project ever. Yet the US Govt spends 1 billion dollars a day on its military activities in Iraq, Afghanistan and around the world. After 7 years of this, how many worthwhile science projects that might have helped avert the global climate and food crises we're facing now might have been funded instead?

My question is this: Why could our world leaders not anticipate what has happened, given the pain and suffering it is causing and going to cause to so many, when a bright young tourist, who worked odd-jobs to pay his way tiki-touring around the globe, saw it coming at least a decade ago?

I would hazard a guess that the answer is that they always knew, but because the illusion is so deeply entrenched in the financial practices and the psyches of pretty much everyone on the planet (apart from those lucky subsistence hunters of the deep Amazon or nomadic herders of Inner Mongolia or Patagonia), there really was nothing they could do but wait for the dream to shatter. To try to fix it would have been to perpetuate the very fallout that we are now witnessing, and no-one wants to be remembered for unleashing such a thing on the world.

As someone said, to believe in the American Dream, it's best if you're asleep.

For another very lucid opinion on what has transpired and what is yet to come, check out this interview with Charles Hugh Smith.

And to bring it back down to earth, for those of us who can never pull the great puppet strings that rule the world, it's just another reminder that every day we should be striving for self-reliance, instead of depending on the world out there to provide for us. If you were in Iceland right now, you'd be wishing you didn't have to wait for the next boat to come in bringing your winter food supplies, because that boat isn't coming. And that is a very harsh reality to be facing, when it is not your doing that has brought this about.

I'm constantly inspired by the people I see making inroads into self-sustainability. Apart from the obvious examples like the Dervaes and Gallimaufree, Patrice Farmer is a single mother who is managing to raise not only her daughter but also several chickens and a garden that puts mine to shame, all the while doing so with a crippling bone disorder (arthritis I think - correct me if I'm wrong, Patrice). As I read her blog, I'm reminded that I have no excuse not to do more to break away from the grand illusion before my family and I become victims of its collapse.