The Antipodean

Summer solitude

margaretscott — Tue, 26 May 2015 23:49:18 GMT

Putting on a bikini and clothes without waking my roommate was a feat in our compact room and one that I almost accomplished until I heard a sleepy "oh where are you going? I'm coming too". We were two conspirators in a shared apartment of four and five minutes later we managed our escape and ran down the stairwell in glee.

Outside Monterosso Al Mare, one of the 5 villages that make the famous Cinque Terre in Italy, was painted in soft grey tones. The nearby mountains were in the same palette and other than bright pops of color from the purple Bougainvilleas, yellow shutters, and orange umbrellas you would have been forgiven for thinking you were in a dream. Gone were the many tourists and bright sunny haze. Instead we were wrapped in the smell of baking bread from the local fornaio who in an hour's time would be full of patrons after their first espresso and foccacia.

Walking down a section of the promenade to access the beach our conversation was light and in hushed tones as if we both knew the moment was fleeting and we wanted to make it last for as long as possible. Millions of pebbles crunched under my feet as I walked to the water's edge gingerly testing its temperature. These pebbles provided a base for what would later be a sea of a different sort: colorful umbrellas, chairs, and towels spread from wall to water. This was late June and the air would get as thick with heat as the beach would with people. We'd come across this first hand when we joined the masses the day before lying on our little section of pebbles to experience the vibe of an early Italian summer.

Entering the same water with my same bikini this morning was a delightful contrast and proved that firstly, I really should get up early more often and secondly, that you can find areas of solitude among tourist hot-spots. The sea and air were mild and hinted at the temperature to come and other than being dumped by a few rouge waves I floated to my heart’s content. That is until the lure of an espresso and foccacia became too great.

Staying in Monterosso Al Mare was definitely one of the best souvenirs that I took from my tour of Italy and like the Limoncino liqueur grown in these parts, these are villages to be slowly savored. Even if you’re wary of the tourist trail and hype, and yes Monterosso Al Mare and Cinque Terre have both, I encourage you to go and spend some time there. Start by having an early morning swim sans people and you may just be surprised.

Photos: Moi

margaretscott — Thu, 5 Mar 2015 20:30:00 GMT

Photos: Passport & Plate - Marillenknödel (Austrian Apricot Dumplings)

margaretscott — Thu, 5 Mar 2015 19:24:00 GMT

This recipe makes 8 dumplings Ingredients Dough: 200 g sour cream (softened) 1 egg 1 1/4 cup plain flour Pinch of salt 50 g butter (softened) Extra flour for rolling Filling: 8 fresh apricots (small to medium size) (can substitute with plums) 8 white sugar cubes (can substitute with brown sugar) Topping: 3/4 cup dried bread crumbs (not fresh) 50 g butter Icing sugar for dusting How to prepare this recipe; - Mix the dough ingredients together. Cover the bowl and rest in the fridge for 30 minutes. - Meanwhile, brown the breadcrumbs in the butter to make the topping. - Prepare the apricots. Make sure they’re at room temperature and not straight from the fridge. Wash and dry them well. Remove the stones carefully trying to keep the fruit in one piece. - In the centre of each apricot place one sugar cube. Make sure the two halves still close and the fruit isn't bulging. You will need to work quickly as the sugar will begin to dissolve. - Flour a board or bench top and roll out the dough. Cut the dough into eight pieces. Encase each apricot in a piece of dough, making sure that there are no visible joins or gaps as that is where the dumpling will split when cooking. - Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil. Place dumplings into the pot and let them cook, not boil, for 10 minutes. Dumplings should be floating on the surface by then. - Remove dumplings with a slotted spoon and place on a clean tea towel to remove the excess water. - Roll each dumpling in the roasted breadcrumbs and dust with icing sugar. Serve the dumplings while warm. Enjoy! Note: This version of Marillenknödel is the one that my Oma would make for us. She always uses flour but traditionally floury potatoes were used as wheat wasn't common. The name Marillenknödel itself will change dependent on the region of Austria where it is cooked eg. in Wachau the recipe is called Wachauer Marillenknödel. The story behind this recipe; Here I am sitting in my grandparent's kitchen in New Zealand where four generations have gathered to celebrate life and inevitably eat lots of beautiful food. Every part of this room is full of memories which seem all the more special as time goes on. Perhaps it's inevitable as one grows older? I'm eating my first attempt at making Marillenknödel (Austrian apricot dumplings) with my mum who took the role of chief adviser and taste tester. This role is perfect for her as this is a recipe that originated in her home country of Austria. Each bite is delicious and surprisingly filling and I wish that all four generations were present once again to enjoy it. As we sit and talk I instantly recall two particular memories: 1998 New Zealand: A house bursting with family laughing, talking, playing and eating. This occasion was extra special as my Oma and Opa were here from Mödling Austria. While Mum and Grandma were busy preparing platters of local and European delights, my Oma had a special treat for us and made her Marillenknödel. I had never had them before and was in for a treat as inside the golden slightly savoury dough was a warm soft apricot dripping with sugary juice. Oma seemed so calm and skilled as she quickly prepared them for all of us and ever since then I have always associated them with happy family times. 2014 near Salzburg, Austria: My first trip to Europe to see Oma and my extended family. Up in the mountains I stayed with my great aunt and uncle and we spoke about our family memories. Much had changed with the passing away of my dear Grandma, Grandpa and Opa almost two years before. Our family gatherings were unfortunately now a thing of the past but there in that warm wooden house with the large cast iron stove we sat talking and laughing while eating our Marillenknödel. It seemed fitting to have travelled around the world only to eat something that I had first had a taste of many years ago in New Zealand, my home country.