There is nothing more delightful then spending a Sunday afternoon with our adopted Italian grandparents - Nonna Nina and Serge. I've always aspired to be an Italian! In March, I spent a week in Northern Italy and fell in love. In love with the culture; the people, the language, the architecture, the wine and ohhhhh my goodness, the food!! The people seemed to buzz with such a zest for life - and i felt...at home.
Today, as Kane and I were welcomed into Nonna Nina's kitchen, the same feelings of warmth rushed back to me. There is certainly no mistaking an Italian cucina! The central bench was crammed with bowls spilling over with home-grown seasonal produce; cherry tomatoes, passion fruit, lemons and eggplant. Although I had reminded her to keep things simple, I wasn't surprised when she unveiled her morning masterpiece; for antipasto, we enjoyed grilled marinated eggplant served with garlic toasts, shallow fried potato-anchovy-parmigiano fritters, and a mixed bowl containing the last of her son's home grown and marinated olives, artichoke hearts, pickled onions, semi dried tomato, and wedges of mature mozzarella. I was left aghast when she went on to boast that the cheese had been maturing in her fridge since Christmas time - but alas, no mould! I live on, 6 hours later, to tell the tale. Now, as for our secondi (main); we feasted on lasagna, roasted beef cheeks with seasonal vegetables, and chicken drumsticks marinated in lemon and oregano picked straight from their garden. Did I mention that this stupendous spread was to cater for four? Four adults, yes - but still - i would call this excessive! I like excessive. As usual, everything she served was melt-in-the-mouth, 'can I have the recipe?' worthy. BUT, as usual, Nonna Nina replied, "why darling, you know me better than to ask! I couldn't tell you the recipe - I added all ingredients to taste".
So that Kane and I could semi-tackle our expanding waistlines before dessert, we convinced our hosts to lead us on a walking tour of their property. We strolled through the orchard, admiring the lychee plantation, which once provided them with a source of income. Their property is also home to avocado, mango, citrus and macadamia trees. Serge muttered in frustration about the 'bloody - bloody white-tailed rats' getting into the macadamias. I couldn't help but have a little giggle. Nonna Nina explained that the macadamia is actually local to Queensland; it was originally known as the Queensland nut, however, it was re-named after its popularity began to soar in America. Who would have thought?
Upon return to the farm house, Nonna Nina whipped some cream in preparation for dessert:
Lemon - Passionfruit Tart served with freshly whipped cream and a Lemon Poppyseed - Sour Cream Cake, which I had baked earlier. Ohh Treat!! The Lemon - Passionfruit Tart was so sublime, that sadly, I had no room for any cake. Luckily, I had baked two and knew that another entire cake was waiting for me at home.
Until then, Ciao!
Today, as Kane and I were welcomed into Nonna Nina's kitchen, the same feelings of warmth rushed back to me. There is certainly no mistaking an Italian cucina! The central bench was crammed with bowls spilling over with home-grown seasonal produce; cherry tomatoes, passion fruit, lemons and eggplant. Although I had reminded her to keep things simple, I wasn't surprised when she unveiled her morning masterpiece; for antipasto, we enjoyed grilled marinated eggplant served with garlic toasts, shallow fried potato-anchovy-parmigiano fritters, and a mixed bowl containing the last of her son's home grown and marinated olives, artichoke hearts, pickled onions, semi dried tomato, and wedges of mature mozzarella. I was left aghast when she went on to boast that the cheese had been maturing in her fridge since Christmas time - but alas, no mould! I live on, 6 hours later, to tell the tale. Now, as for our secondi (main); we feasted on lasagna, roasted beef cheeks with seasonal vegetables, and chicken drumsticks marinated in lemon and oregano picked straight from their garden. Did I mention that this stupendous spread was to cater for four? Four adults, yes - but still - i would call this excessive! I like excessive. As usual, everything she served was melt-in-the-mouth, 'can I have the recipe?' worthy. BUT, as usual, Nonna Nina replied, "why darling, you know me better than to ask! I couldn't tell you the recipe - I added all ingredients to taste".
So that Kane and I could semi-tackle our expanding waistlines before dessert, we convinced our hosts to lead us on a walking tour of their property. We strolled through the orchard, admiring the lychee plantation, which once provided them with a source of income. Their property is also home to avocado, mango, citrus and macadamia trees. Serge muttered in frustration about the 'bloody - bloody white-tailed rats' getting into the macadamias. I couldn't help but have a little giggle. Nonna Nina explained that the macadamia is actually local to Queensland; it was originally known as the Queensland nut, however, it was re-named after its popularity began to soar in America. Who would have thought?
Upon return to the farm house, Nonna Nina whipped some cream in preparation for dessert:
Lemon - Passionfruit Tart served with freshly whipped cream and a Lemon Poppyseed - Sour Cream Cake, which I had baked earlier. Ohh Treat!! The Lemon - Passionfruit Tart was so sublime, that sadly, I had no room for any cake. Luckily, I had baked two and knew that another entire cake was waiting for me at home.
At my request, Nonna Nina attempted to recall the method to her magic:
I don't know darling...could have been 6, or 8, or even 10 passion fruit. I covered the pulp in water...it would have been about [this] deep in the pot...just a medium sized saucepan really. I left it to simmer and waited for the seeds to separate from the pulp. Then, I strained out the seeds, squeezed in the juice of a lemon, added to sugar to taste and while it stayed on the heat, I very gradually stirred in 3...or maybe even 4 teaspoons of custard powder. Then...I poured it into the tart shell and put it in the fridge to set, of course!
Yes...of course...
So there you have it. A late lunch at Nonna Nina's, after which, bellies full (and in despearte need of a siesta), we contently rolled out the door, as happy as two lambs in Spring! I shall experiment with the tart a couple of times and post a recipe!Until then, Ciao!
Mmm, that lunch sounds truly delightful. As my culinary skill does not allow me to contest or even come within a flea’s sneeze of your talented Nonna Nina’s, or your own for that matter, I can merely reply with a frank account of the sad morsels that I consumed today.
ReplyDeleteI started the morning, just before dawn, with a steaming cup of coffee. Though it was not barrister-fresh it was a step up from instant, in the form of a ‘Robert Timms’ coffee bag. Not feeling I was able to stomach a bowl of soggy ‘Just Right’ I went on my way promising myself that the coffee would have to do.
By homeroom, as my fresh little pupils marched into class with as much enthusiasm as a bunch of dry-cows on a summer’s day, my stomach began to growl; uncomfortably loudly. (I remembered why I usually force-feed myself a bowl of gruel when it is still early enough to trick my tastebuds.)
By lunch I was adequately hungry that I thought I might turn on one of the young Hansels or Gretels in the playground, but when I realised I had neither a gingerbread house nor the malicious soul of a witch in the woods, five dry Vitaweets sufficed. Mind you, the consequences that I might have suffered from eating a child, particularly those that affected my current state of employment and not to mention my freedom, influenced my choice somewhat also.
Lunch comprised of a bag of two minute noodles, zapped in a microwave before playground duty and dinner was a somewhat soggy, flavourless soup prepared by my Grandad who has been liberated from actually having tastebuds for some years now. (This is not, in any way, meant as an insult towards my dear Grandad. It is merely a fact that skill in the kitchen is not a hereditary trait in the Tranter bloodlines.)
However, I write this not to beg for your empathy, actually, quite on the contrary as I feel myself lucky. It is only by having such a day of bland gastronomic experiences that one can truly enjoy the true bliss that is being served a meal from one Miss Rukmani Rusch.
I feel most envious of the fact that you were treated to Lasagne - since in the seven years that I have dined at Nina's table I have never had that honour.
ReplyDeleteI am also a devotee of her passionfruit summer flan, although in a passionfruit drought she has been known to innovatively make it with 'Tang' - a powdered orange drink - popular in the 80's. Still stored in her pantry by the boxful.