Fully Vaxxed We Celebrate Family, Friends and Firstborns

I’ve raged against injustice, prayed with prayer sisters for healing, wept with the grieving, and consoled friends, colleagues, and acquaintances in mourning; we’ve given thanks for healing and have been enthralled by those who’ve recovered, often miraculously. While we wait for these unprecedented times to pass, we’ve had ourselves vaccinated and encourage everyone to do likewise. 

We are continually vexed, shaking our heads, irked, disappointed, and in disbelief at those who vehemently refuse to be persuaded and will not accept the offer of vaccination. It’s no use beating our fists in the air or banging our heads against a brick wall. Nor can we wrench every hair from our heads, disinherit, unfriend, complain, berate, or ignore our nearest and dearest who believe the conspiracies. We can’t change their minds. Of that, we are confident.

Now, we are both Zoom-fatigued and have stopped chatting with friends for hours. Instead, we prefer one-on-one phone conversations, reflecting on how the pandemic has reshaped our social interactions and deepened our appreciation of human contact.

In our dining room, the long table sits dejectedly, waiting. On my bedside table, my bedtime reading is Yotam Ottolenghi’s Plenty More. Cooking for two is just so humdrum.

Could it be the sudden show of orange on the pavement as the weeds and seedlings come into bloom and the days lengthen? Last week, a carpet of Namaqua daisies turned their friendly faces to the sun.

After careful consideration, Butch and I decided to end our ‘social’ quarantine and open our doors to friends again, celebrating these family milestones that bring us closer and fill us with pride.

 I bought bunches of flowers, chose a spring menu, and made my grocery lists early in the week, eager to share my cooking tips and to inspire confidence in my kitchen skills. 

Once we’d made the mental shift towards some social normality, things escalated. Our beds were filling up too, with bed linen, towels and duvets. We fluffed pillows, removed extra blankets from cupboards and aired mattresses. Setting up the German camping cot was a mechanical feat. Still, after much tugging, twisting and turning, blood, sweat and frustration, we got it standing and ready for the Crown Prince’s arrival—the house smelt of furniture polish and the sweet, heady honey fragrance of Fynbos.

Just as I tied my apron strings, my phone started buzzing. I knew the ringtone. It was Joe’s. My son in Canada. He had just become the proud father of a bonny little girl, Maeva Hazel van Heerden. Both baby and mother were doing well. He was a proud, relieved wreck. Never again would he let Emily go through an experience like that, he vowed. I smiled, knowing we’re hot-wired to forget birth pains. He was overwhelmed with love after experiencing the miracle of birth.

We are only one of millions of parents who must endure being separated from their children. Although we have come to terms with them being far away and have even accepted and become accustomed to our children being global citizens, there are times when I find it unbearable when all the newfangled tech communications fail. It takes all my physical and mental courage to remain strong while my heart breaks as I witness these momentous occasions via WhatsApp. Yet we do it. We soldier on. I just checked: my Canadian visa expires in 2023. I have time.

Blessedly, Butch was quick off the mark; he gathered me up, and we all joined in to congratulate, celebrate, toast the new life, and share in her parents' joy. We will see her in February 2022.

Friday the 13th has often marked significant changes and upheavals in my life. This time, we were blessed abundantly.

Carla, my daughter-in-law, a doula, photographer and great friend and sister, assisted Emily and Joe during their confinement and birth. She wrote a beautiful blog, which I have attached. She captured the essence of the experience with emotional depth. Reading her words, we felt part of the experience as she captured the drama of the delivery room with her camera and pen, eloquently and sensitively. We’ve been able to reconcile ourselves and “bond” with our new grandbaby, all the while very aware of my domestic obligations in the kitchen!

https://photosxcarla.ca/blogs/post/maeva-hazel  

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SPRING LUNCHEON MENU AND RECIPES

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PEARS POACHED IN MULLED RED WINE ON BRUSCHETTA WITH BITS AND BOBS 

De-boned leg of Lamb

Minty Salsa Verde

Smashed Rosemary Potatoes

Green Seasonal Vegetable Platter

Tomato and Pomegranate Salad

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White Chocolate and Berry Mousse and Biscotti

Meringue Roulade with Raspberries

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Sunday – Brinjal and Rosa Tomato Cheesecake

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To make this post more engaging for close friends and family, I'll share only the Poached Pears in Mulled Red Wine recipe today, assuming you're familiar with my cooking style.  I’ll follow up with another blog featuring the rest of the recipes and social ideas so that you can try them at your convenience.

This simple starter can be adjusted to suit all palates.  Bertus, our son-in-law, does not enjoy cooked fruit, but I could combine tantalizing flavours, textures, and colours on a plate.  He enjoyed it.  I must confess I did curry favour with the desserts, knowing full well I’d be back in his good books with a titillating chocolate anything.

POACHED PEARS IN MULLED RED WINE - SERVED WITH BRUSCHETTA AND BITS AND BOBS

Serves 10 guests

You can prep all the ingredients the day before, assemble 20 minutes before your guests arrive, and serve just before they’re seated.  Best served at room temp.

Place the pears in a small bowl, sides up.  Combine all the ingredients and pour over the pears.

Bake in a 160°C preheated oven for 60 minutes, or until the pears are cooked through. Turn the pears if they’re not entirely submerged.

Leave to cool completely.  Bring the red wine sauce to a boil and simmer until it thickens slightly.  Don't boil too much, or you might end up with toffee!

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Bruschetta

Sprinkle a generous amount of olive oil over the sliced ciabatta.  Give each slice a good grind of black pepper and a sprinkling of Maldon salt.

Place the bread on a baking tray covered with baking paper.

Bake in a 180°C preheated oven for 10 minutes, turn the bread, and repeat.

The slices should be crispy and golden.  Remove. Cool. Keep aside until you assemble your salad.

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Baked red onions with a Walnut Salsa

When peeling the onions, remove the very thin outer layer, top, and tail, but don't remove all the bottom ends.  Try to keep the onion intact by only removing the very ends.

Place on a covered baking tray (I always use baking paper to cover my baking trays). Brush with olive oil to coat the onions.  Season with pinches of salt and freshly ground pepper.  Roast in the oven for about 15 minutes.  Turn the heat/grill up for the last 5 minutes to get a good golden colour. Remove from the oven and set aside. Once cooked, cool, then cover with cling wrap.

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Walnut Salsa

Mix all the ingredients in a small bowl just before assembling the starter.

TIP:

If you’d like to make just the onions, you can do so and serve them on a bed of rocket leaves on a platter.  Garnish with broken feta or soft goat’s cheese and the salsa.

TO ASSEMBLE THE STARTER:

Place all components within easy reach.

Rocket leaves

Adjust the ingredients to the number of plates you’re preparing. E.g. for 4 guests, prepare 2 pears, 4 onions, 4 bruschettas, etc.

Carefully place the pear on a luncheon plate; next to it, place the bruschetta; top the bread with a small handful of rocket leaves, the crispy pancetta, and the onion and walnut salsa.

Place a slice of blue-veined cheese, or Gorgonzola,  on top of the pear and drip a few drops of red wine sauce on top.

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Maricha’s Mint Salsa Verde – every fridge needs a container.

I always have Salsa Verde in my fridge; it is versatile and can garnish soups, dress salads, pair with barbequed meat on the side, or be served with crusty bread dipped in olive oil and balsamic vinegar.  My reasons are endless.  I even brushed 30ml on my Eggplant cheesecake when it came out of the oven.

(Or use the Woolies White balsamic vinegar dressing in the small bottle – that’s what I do.  This little bottle of magic lifts the whole Salsa Verde to new heights)

Place all the ingredients in a deep jug and blend using a hand stick blender. I sometimes like the herbs to be crunchy rather than too finely chopped.  Pour into a plastic container and use as needed.

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Our luncheon was a huge success; our friends stayed late into the afternoon catching up.  Laughter could be heard all the way upstairs, where little Liam slept sporadically, much to his parents’ chagrin.  I’m pleased to report my table was a success and everyone went home plump as partridges.

One friend said, “I don’t think I have EVER had food that I enjoyed more!!  And I didn’t even eat the meat.  I am virtually a vegetarian now.  And when was the last time we had a lunch party that went on until after 5:00 pm!!!!  SO thanks so much, both of you.  I am off to get your Ottolenghi. Asap.  See you soon. Let’s see what I can do. Xxx Mari.”

Another one said: “Morning, Butch and Marich.  Thanks for such a great day.   Lovely catching up with old friends.  Delicious food as always. I have just seen G and A off.  Now time to put my feet up, rest my liver and catch up on lost sleep.  Take care and let me know when you are down again. Love J”

Marie said: “ Yesterday’s meal, well… what can I say?  It was simply fantastic!  I always admire how you two cook together… and make it a success. We are thrilled that we could get together again.  Hugs.”

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The proof of the pudding is in the eating.  A successful party depends on the participants’ enjoyment.  We could’ve served bread and wine, and our get-together would’ve been a resounding success.  We are all social beings, and we need to interact with our friends.  Celebrating Maeva’s birth was an unexpected bonus. We’ll do it again soon. We love feet under our table and bums on seats.

Next blog, we’ll dip into some desserts.