foodie weekend
This weekend was unexpectedly food-oriented. There were some carnivals and events taking place around in the city and in Lausanne but with the kids and I all under the weather, I didn't feel like having a busy weekend. So since the sun was shining on Saturday we headed out to Versoix for some apple picking.
One of the parents at The Bun's school had told me about Ferme Courtois, a farm that offered auto-cueillete (pick-it-yourself) on part of their land. The apples are sold by weight (about 1.50CHF/kg when we went) and you take your own bags and help yourselves to any of the three varieties there - Boskoop (an acidic, cooking apple), Gala (everyone knows this one), and Golden (mellow and fragrant). The farmhand showed us how to pick an apple off the branch, using a twisting, upward motion. If the apple easily snaps off, it is ripe. If it resists, then let it stay on the branch.
Armed with a wheelbarrow, we trundled up and down the rows of apple trees, choosing which apples to pick. The farm deliberately dwarfed these trees so that they were the perfect height for easy picking - even Bao could reach a couple of branches if she stretched upwards. The ground was covered with fallen, moldy apples, and I alternated between picking fresh apples and preventing Bao from eating the rotten ones she had found on the grass.
Our final haul: 27 apples, which we paid 10CHF for. That's a pretty good price by Swiss standards, especially since the apples were fresh off the tree. We drove on down the road to the farmhouse, which was open for Saturday market, and bought fresh broccoli, leeks, wild raspberries (incredible tasting), and wine.
Since we were quite near The Bun's school, J decided to drive on to the butcher across from it so that we could pick up some meat. After going on the farm tour in February, we have been buying steaks and lamb cutlets from this farm because it's convenient, fresh, and value for money.
The weather was gorgeous in the afternoon so after lunch at home we drove across the border to France, which was celebrating its journées du patrimoine (heritage days) this weekend. This means that national monuments and chateaus across the country, which are normally closed to the public, were opened for the weekend for public viewing. The closest French monument to us is Château Voltaire, the residence where Voltaire spent the last two decades of his life.
The expansive gardens looking out over the Alps was probably the best part of our visit. Bao, who is currently obsessed with sheep, was very excited to see a small flock of sheep grazing over the fence. The kids had a small snack on a bench outside before we all went into the château for a looksee. We didn't get very much out of it though, unfortunately, trying to wrangle Bao inside and keeping her from ducking beneath the barricades or kicking the walls. Our time in the garden was much better; anyway, it was a nice diversion for the afternoon.
Walking in Voltaire's garden
We then popped into Carrefour nearby so that I could pick up some extra stuff for dinner, which J cooked up on the barbecue. We had Angus steak with garlic mashed potatoes, veal chipolata sausages, fresh broccoli from the farm with a honey soy dressing, and grilled corn on the cob. Bao managed to eat three sausages (!) on her own and probably would have eaten more if I hadn't hid the rest from her. The kids love bangers and mash.
There's never a chance of lying in on the weekends around here, no thanks to Bao. She dragged J and I awake early this morning, and once she ascertained that we were up for the day she abandoned us in favour of her Duplo blocks in the playroom and refused to change out of her PJs or eat breakfast. Since we were awake so early I suggested making chorizo and lemongrass scrolls for breakfast. J and I watched Lorraine Pascale's 'How to Cook Better' the other night and were so taken by her easy chorizo pastry recipe that I went out the next day to buy puff pastry. I bought the pre-rolled version so assembling everything was super quick and the results were delicious, although admittedly not typical breakfast food. Definitely something we're going to be making regularly - waistlines begone!
I had some ripe bananas lying around and for some reason couldn't get chocolate dipped bananas out of my head so after breakfast I ushered everyone out to Gare Cornavin, the main train station and one of the two places in the city (the other is the airport) where you can find a supermarket open on a Sunday. I had also heard that this weekend was the inauguration of the station's newly renovated wing so there were activities and performances lined up. We saw a choral performance of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana, which sounded super dramatic under the Gothic ceiling of the station, an indie folksinger in the bookstore (Bao actually sat on the floor, listened intently, and clapped for her), and some elderly ladies yodelling outside the station. The kids got some balloon sculptures, I picked up some dark chocolate, and we headed home for lunch and Bao's nap.
When Bao naps everyone gets some much-needed solo time since the tantrum tornado is finally silent. Usually I read or surf the web, but today I made those chocolate dipped bananas that I had been craving, and while those were in the freezer chilling, I cooked down a couple of the huge Boskoop apples because I wanted to use up the leftover puff pastry dough and make mini apple pies. In between all this, the bedsheets were washed, Bao woken and given lunch, unending piles of dirty dishes washed, etc. The kitchen was abuzz. The apple pies turned out nicely and were a hit with The Bun, who requested them for breakfast tomorrow. I still have some leftover apple filling which will taste good on oatmeal as well.
Later, J took the kids down to our neighbourhood playground to give me some peace and silence, so that I could have a cup of tea, tackle another load of laundry (sigh) and get dinner prep going. They ended up coming home with a bagful of black walnuts still in their husks, thanks to a neighbour who was harvesting the nuts and taught them what to do. The walnut tree is right next to the playground and I never knew that those green pods littered all over the path had walnuts in them.
Some googling revealed them to be black walnuts, which are different from English walnuts which are the ones you commonly find in the supermarkets. Armed with information, J husked the nuts so that they are down to just their shells. The shell is very very hard and apparently conventional handheld nutcrackers can't open them, so I'm not quite sure what we're going to do. One website recommended a very heavy mallet and a burlap sack. I'll try asking around to see if any of my friends here have ideas.
So that was our sort of localvore weekend. We had lamb from the farm for dinner, which rounded things up nicely. The majority of food in Singapore in imported, so the concept of eating with the seasons or eating locally-harvested food is uncommon. Here, our supermarket prides itself on the provenance of the food it sells. For example, the packaging of the organic milk we buy tells us which region it comes from - Gruyères, for the record - and if you look carefully there is a QR code for you to scan so that you can trace your particular batch of milk to its exact dairy farm source. I like our particular butcher because the meat he sells comes directly from his farm, with no middleman involved. The storefront is located in the same building as the slaughterhouse and every cut is so fresh because there's no freezing or transport necessary - the meat you buy is what was slaughtered that very same morning.
Bao vs. lamb
I've definitely overeaten this weekend, but it was all good stuff. I don't know what got into me, buzzing into full domestic mode when I'm usually lazing around on Sundays. I think it was all the apples. We juiced some and ate some and cooked some, and I still have twenty apples left!
One of the parents at The Bun's school had told me about Ferme Courtois, a farm that offered auto-cueillete (pick-it-yourself) on part of their land. The apples are sold by weight (about 1.50CHF/kg when we went) and you take your own bags and help yourselves to any of the three varieties there - Boskoop (an acidic, cooking apple), Gala (everyone knows this one), and Golden (mellow and fragrant). The farmhand showed us how to pick an apple off the branch, using a twisting, upward motion. If the apple easily snaps off, it is ripe. If it resists, then let it stay on the branch.
Armed with a wheelbarrow, we trundled up and down the rows of apple trees, choosing which apples to pick. The farm deliberately dwarfed these trees so that they were the perfect height for easy picking - even Bao could reach a couple of branches if she stretched upwards. The ground was covered with fallen, moldy apples, and I alternated between picking fresh apples and preventing Bao from eating the rotten ones she had found on the grass.
Our final haul: 27 apples, which we paid 10CHF for. That's a pretty good price by Swiss standards, especially since the apples were fresh off the tree. We drove on down the road to the farmhouse, which was open for Saturday market, and bought fresh broccoli, leeks, wild raspberries (incredible tasting), and wine.
Since we were quite near The Bun's school, J decided to drive on to the butcher across from it so that we could pick up some meat. After going on the farm tour in February, we have been buying steaks and lamb cutlets from this farm because it's convenient, fresh, and value for money.
The weather was gorgeous in the afternoon so after lunch at home we drove across the border to France, which was celebrating its journées du patrimoine (heritage days) this weekend. This means that national monuments and chateaus across the country, which are normally closed to the public, were opened for the weekend for public viewing. The closest French monument to us is Château Voltaire, the residence where Voltaire spent the last two decades of his life.
The expansive gardens looking out over the Alps was probably the best part of our visit. Bao, who is currently obsessed with sheep, was very excited to see a small flock of sheep grazing over the fence. The kids had a small snack on a bench outside before we all went into the château for a looksee. We didn't get very much out of it though, unfortunately, trying to wrangle Bao inside and keeping her from ducking beneath the barricades or kicking the walls. Our time in the garden was much better; anyway, it was a nice diversion for the afternoon.
Walking in Voltaire's garden
We then popped into Carrefour nearby so that I could pick up some extra stuff for dinner, which J cooked up on the barbecue. We had Angus steak with garlic mashed potatoes, veal chipolata sausages, fresh broccoli from the farm with a honey soy dressing, and grilled corn on the cob. Bao managed to eat three sausages (!) on her own and probably would have eaten more if I hadn't hid the rest from her. The kids love bangers and mash.
There's never a chance of lying in on the weekends around here, no thanks to Bao. She dragged J and I awake early this morning, and once she ascertained that we were up for the day she abandoned us in favour of her Duplo blocks in the playroom and refused to change out of her PJs or eat breakfast. Since we were awake so early I suggested making chorizo and lemongrass scrolls for breakfast. J and I watched Lorraine Pascale's 'How to Cook Better' the other night and were so taken by her easy chorizo pastry recipe that I went out the next day to buy puff pastry. I bought the pre-rolled version so assembling everything was super quick and the results were delicious, although admittedly not typical breakfast food. Definitely something we're going to be making regularly - waistlines begone!
I had some ripe bananas lying around and for some reason couldn't get chocolate dipped bananas out of my head so after breakfast I ushered everyone out to Gare Cornavin, the main train station and one of the two places in the city (the other is the airport) where you can find a supermarket open on a Sunday. I had also heard that this weekend was the inauguration of the station's newly renovated wing so there were activities and performances lined up. We saw a choral performance of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana, which sounded super dramatic under the Gothic ceiling of the station, an indie folksinger in the bookstore (Bao actually sat on the floor, listened intently, and clapped for her), and some elderly ladies yodelling outside the station. The kids got some balloon sculptures, I picked up some dark chocolate, and we headed home for lunch and Bao's nap.
When Bao naps everyone gets some much-needed solo time since the tantrum tornado is finally silent. Usually I read or surf the web, but today I made those chocolate dipped bananas that I had been craving, and while those were in the freezer chilling, I cooked down a couple of the huge Boskoop apples because I wanted to use up the leftover puff pastry dough and make mini apple pies. In between all this, the bedsheets were washed, Bao woken and given lunch, unending piles of dirty dishes washed, etc. The kitchen was abuzz. The apple pies turned out nicely and were a hit with The Bun, who requested them for breakfast tomorrow. I still have some leftover apple filling which will taste good on oatmeal as well.
Later, J took the kids down to our neighbourhood playground to give me some peace and silence, so that I could have a cup of tea, tackle another load of laundry (sigh) and get dinner prep going. They ended up coming home with a bagful of black walnuts still in their husks, thanks to a neighbour who was harvesting the nuts and taught them what to do. The walnut tree is right next to the playground and I never knew that those green pods littered all over the path had walnuts in them.
Some googling revealed them to be black walnuts, which are different from English walnuts which are the ones you commonly find in the supermarkets. Armed with information, J husked the nuts so that they are down to just their shells. The shell is very very hard and apparently conventional handheld nutcrackers can't open them, so I'm not quite sure what we're going to do. One website recommended a very heavy mallet and a burlap sack. I'll try asking around to see if any of my friends here have ideas.
So that was our sort of localvore weekend. We had lamb from the farm for dinner, which rounded things up nicely. The majority of food in Singapore in imported, so the concept of eating with the seasons or eating locally-harvested food is uncommon. Here, our supermarket prides itself on the provenance of the food it sells. For example, the packaging of the organic milk we buy tells us which region it comes from - Gruyères, for the record - and if you look carefully there is a QR code for you to scan so that you can trace your particular batch of milk to its exact dairy farm source. I like our particular butcher because the meat he sells comes directly from his farm, with no middleman involved. The storefront is located in the same building as the slaughterhouse and every cut is so fresh because there's no freezing or transport necessary - the meat you buy is what was slaughtered that very same morning.
Bao vs. lamb
I've definitely overeaten this weekend, but it was all good stuff. I don't know what got into me, buzzing into full domestic mode when I'm usually lazing around on Sundays. I think it was all the apples. We juiced some and ate some and cooked some, and I still have twenty apples left!