Passata di Pomodoro

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No good Italian can live without tomatoes, and plenty of it. So the annual Passata day always takes effect when tomatoes are in abundance, ripe, sweet and fresh. Making about 60 kilograms of Passata every year for our own needs, and some as gifts, has been a family tradition for many decades. It helps to be on a good footing with the local green grocer who is only too pleased to discount  the tomatoes that would be considered over ripe in New Zealand, but just right in Italy.

RECIPE

Wash and roughly cut up the tomatoes, and at the same time remove the odd bad or discolored spots. Now boil the tomatoes, without water, for about five to ten minutes, depending on the ripeness, until soft, but not cooked.

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Passata making can be a huge job without the magical Passata Machine – a device that separates the skin and seeds from the flesh. This little machine can do in excess of 100 kilograms per hour and is wonderfully designed, easy to operate, durable and very quick to clean. No self respecting Italian household is without one! Within minutes I had processed 30 kilograms of tomatoes into 28.5 kilograms of Passata leaving 1.5  kilograms of seeds and skins to compost, or dry to plant next year.

Bottle the tomatoes in clean canning bottles – do not use the cheap screw on type of bottles, but a good strong bottle with lid that can seal properly. There is  no need to sterilise the clean bottles before hand, as it is going to happen after filling them. Put the filled and sealed bottles in a large enough pot that would totally cover the bottles when filled with water. It is good to have a tea towel or some screen in the bottom of the pot, so that the bottles do not stand directly on the heated surface. Now fill the pot with water of about the same temperature as the product is at this stage (prevent bottles from cracking).  Heat until the water is boiling and then boil for twenty minutes more. Immediately remove the bottles from the boiling water, if the water starts to cool, water may be sucked  into the product.

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Cool and label.  PRONTO !!

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While washing the tomatoes, select the ripest and firmest tomatoes for Bruschetta with tomato, basil, olive oil, salt, pepper and garlic. Mrs BYF cannot be beaten for making the best Bruschetta!  ENJOY!

Dunedin Science for Kids

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On a cold rainy Saturday morning we took the kids to the museum (www.otagomuseum.govt.nz).  The ‘hands on ‘ science experience’ section for kids caters for all ages and the butterflies in the tropical forest exhibit are a joy.  The tropical heat was a treat, but I could not un-layer enough and was perspiring towards the end of our visit.  We were in time to see a release of a batch of  ‘new’ butterflies and the kids had butterflies perched on their hands and shoulders, and one of them had to be reminded that breathing would not dislodge the persistent butterfly on his arm.

But the most marvelous thing about the museum visit was the ‘science show’, presented by an enthusiastic young  paleontologist. This is the type of scientist we need  – the non retiring kind – a showman who can make science exciting and fun. His audience ranged from 4 (my grandson) to ancient (me) and everyone was kept on the edge of their seats throughout the show. There was smoking liquid nitrogen, water cold enough to be from the Antarctic, fossils passed around, flaming helium and exploding balloons. Wonderful stuff and the scientist kept everyone in suspense and never disappointed with the outcome of the experiment.

Congratulations to the museum for the contribution I am sure it is creating an early interest in science, especially here, in lovely Dunedin!

Beauty

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The neighbour has a garden that Monet would be proud of. She picked us this exquisite bouquet of dainty flowers and perfumed old fashioned roses. They looked so good on my ‘old fashioned’ table cloth that I had to share!

Guy Fawkes and Chickens

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The fireworks started before dark and when I went to close the chickens at dusk I found they were sitting high up in the Ngaio tree. I tried to entice them down but when darkness fell I gave up. To protect my animals from  stoats, hedgehogs, cats, dogs and all the wild things, real or imaginary, that roam the back yard at night I make sure that everyone is in and closed up properly. After a final check around the yard, with the racket of the fireworks still going on all around, I went to bed, hoping that nothing would get at my chickens.

At 1 am Alvin, the rooster, perched high in the tree,  bathed in bright moonlight as well as the light of a new street lamp and fireworks still going, looked out over ‘his’ valley and registered his joy by crowing. The rejoicing went on and on. Every crow louder and clearer than the preceding one and probably heard by neighbours kilometers away. Mrs Back Yard Farmer, a light sleeper, started muttering at the initial crow, the mutterings grew louder and transformed into threats regarding wrung necks and then degenerated into some impressive swearing in at least two languages. By 4 am Mrs BYF had enough. It was when she rose from her bed like the proverbial phoenix, incandescent with rage, I realised that I did not take into account the most dangerous wild thing that could roam the back yard – an angry Mrs BYF.  Armed with a few brooms and the flashlight on her phone she braved the dark, wet steps at the back door, located the rooster in the tree and threw brooms at him until he fluttered to the ground and took refuge under the coop. Mrs BYF, thinking her job was done,  started the perilous journey back to the house only to hear a loud crow behind her. This time she tried to find the rooster, intending to murder him if she got her hands on him, throwing stuff at him as she went.

By daybreak Mrs BYF had returned to her bed and I pretended to be dead. Should there ever be a repeat of this Guy Fawkes night I am certain that the only thing that will save my neck is the lack of a big enough pot. The rooster will be cooked.

 

African Coup d’état

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True to African tradition, as soon as the Head of State (Mrs Back Yard Farmer) left the country for a holiday with the grandchildren, the Opposition (Aka Back Yard Farmer), arranged a well organised COUP and took over the kitchen table. Fortunately, no blood was shed as all the remaining living subjects (quails, chickens, rabbits, etc) were on the side of the opposition, seeing they were the sole beneficiaries of the must from 130 liters of wine (only after Grappa has been distilled though). Recipes to follow soon with the next post.