mutteringhousewife

What does the last of the housewives do?

Tag: honest to goodness

Honest to Goodness

I miss going to the farmers market. I really loved the beautiful eggs you could get there, the organic carrots, the kindly raised meat. And I missed getting my pantry staples from the Honest to Goodness stall there. I haven’t been going because, I may have mentioned, I’ve been on crutches and it’s hard enough sliding through the crowds with an old lady shopping trolley in tow. Now I’m mobile again it’s soccer season, which means my Saturday mornings are now spent trying to get the kids to four different venues across the city at the same time. I have tried to find markets on at times that suit me better, but during school hours the farmers seem to be getting on with farming rather than selling stuff to me, so I’ve been going without. Today I thought I’d seek out the Honest to Goodness factory outlet and get myself stocked up on grains and dried fruits.

The address in Alexandria gave me some hope. Parts of Alexandria have become very hip, with specialty delis, annoying little coffee shops and lots of warehouse conversions. But not Maddox Street. Maddox Street is still full of giant trucks and industrial estates and fastener factories and swarthy men in hi-vis vests squatting on the kerbside smoking. A bit daunting. In one such industrial estate is a little corner full of jute bags and hipsters and I’ve found it. And you can park there.

I’m a bit equivocal about organic food. On the one hand, I don’t mind a bit of being nice to the land. On the other, I don’t actually think conventional farmers are terribly evil and rapacious and are poisoning our food. So basically I buy organic if it tastes better. The sultanas, currants and cranberries from Honest to Goodness do taste noticeably better than the stuff in tubs from Norton Street Grocer, and they in turn are better than the wrinkled husks pressed into rectangles that the major supermarkets purvey. In other words, worth it. I’m also rather fond of their crystallised ginger, hazelnuts and coconut products. Speaking of which, coconut seems to be a thing at the moment. They had coconut oil, coconut syrup, coconut sugar, coconut soap and coconut water. But not the coconut flakes I’d been rather hoping to purchase. Desiccated will have to do.

I also wanted to get a variety of grains for either making flour in the Thermomix or for the rather complex porridge I’m planning to make in the colder months. Oatmeal porridge makes me feel like I’ve foolishly eaten a woollen rug, so I’m going to have to come up with something more exotic. To that end, I got some hulled buckwheat, rolled spelt and whole wheat grains. I reckon if I team that lot with some green apple and hazelnuts and some other bits and pieces I may be onto something. I’ll keep you posted.

Of course I also love looking at the wackier stuff too. Activated brown rice protein powder. Super jam, which looks down its super nose at ordinary jam. I think it has goji berries in it, or whatever the hell is the current ridiculously overhyped fruit of the moment. Acai berries? I can’t keep up. Dried bananas. Why? I’ve had the preservative free dried apricots and they taste as disgusting as they look. And what is it about the organic set that means tiny hats for the men and no personal grooming for the women? Not that I can talk, but I occasionally put on lipstick and wear non-ironic dresses. Also, what would you do with a kilo pack of agar powder?

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I’m still a bit conflicted about the flour. I do buy flour in five kilo packs, so that’s not the issue. It was one and a half times as expensive as my normal flour. Would it have been one and a half times as good? There would have been one and a half times as much self satisfied smirk in my baked goods, but would there be any more tangible benefits? I don’t kid myself that white flour is terribly nutritious, but would it have produced a springer bread, a crunchier Anzac biscuit, a more delectable slice base? I don’t know, because I didn’t buy it in the end. If you’ve tried organic flour, let me know if it makes any difference at all. Maybe I should have asked to buy a half kilo sample. Maybe next time. If I bring someone with me who does that kind of thing.

Nepalese Porridge

Back in the early days of our marriage we would have an annual conversation. It was very short, and it went like this. “Shall we start a family this year, or travel somewhere exotic?”. It’s amazing we ever had children at all, really. One year we went trekking in Nepal.

Nepal, as you would know or imagine, is a very different country to Australia, but the first thing that strikes you is that it’s almost completely vertical. Coming from a wide brown land, this is a bit of a shock, because it means that to get anywhere you need to go up stairs, often for hours at a time. I had hoped that all those stairs would have a slimming effect on my rather large calves, but no, they just got very ropy. Camp was made every night on small patches of grass bordered by a cliff face on one side and a sheer drop on the other by unfailingly cheerful porters. After making camp they would immediately set up tiny camp stoves and produce delicious meals of vegetables and lentils and rice, and sometimes a chicken that had been seeing the sights from a basket on the cook’s back. All a little lost on me, it was in Nepal I discovered that I don’t really digest lentils.

Breakfast was often a hot porridge, and after tasting it I couldn’t believe we don’t do it this way here. I made some this morning. I’m putting in a photo of the uncooked ingredients, because after it’s cooked, it looks a lot like porridge which makes for a rather uninteresting photo.

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Chop up a small green apple and put it in a small saucepan. Add a quarter of a cup of chopped hazelnuts and a quarter of a cup of flaked coconut, two cups of oats and two cups of water. As it happens, I got everything except the water from Honest to Goodness, they have a stall at the Orange Grove Markets. Put on the stove and stir until the water is absorbed. It makes enough for two, or one really hungry person. I sprinkled it with cinnamon sugar, but you could put a cinnamon stick in while cooking. It was a little spartan, you may want to add sultanas, which would start bringing into Bircher Muesli territory, but it’s all breakfast. My husband said he prefers it plain. My family is a tough audience.