Spring in the Adelaide Hills

Amazing how fast six months can pass by. Last time I wrote, Autumn was just beginning to assert its influence over a Summer-parched garden and we were about to bring in the garlic harvest. It's all gone now, although it lasted us most of the way through Winter, alongside the greens like kale, broccoli, silverbeet and cauliflower.

It was a remarkably benevolent Winter come to think of it, with few frosts and rain like I haven't ever seen since I moved here. This meant our second crop of potatoes was allowed to grow all the way through to June and we're still eating them now. Mind you, I think we'll have to put most of what's left aside for seed potatoes, cos it's spud plantin' time again! The coriander loved the mild wet conditions as well. We had a 2 by 1.5 metre plot that gave us and everyone who visited bundles of the stuff for months on end. It's bolted now, but once the seed has set we'll have next year's crop, plus enough to dry, roast and grind up in an endless flow of curries and other spiced delights.

So now we're well into Spring and are reaping all the benefits that lie therein. I'm still getting over the novelty value of living in a place that has such clearly defined seasons. The subtropical Northern Rivers really only had two or maybe three seasonal shifts - Hot & wet, cold & dry, hot & dry - but in the Hills, you could mark the change of season from one day to the next. All at once our lawn is up to our knees because the temperature's rising and it's been raining so much. The paddocks surrounding our shallow valley, emerald green at sunrise, turn a vivid yellow around mid morning every day as the daisy-like weed that flourishes all through the region opens its flowers to the day's warmth. The days lengthen markedly and all of a sudden it's time to plant the tomatoes.

Spring in the vegie garden is a truly exciting time in our temperate/ mediterranean climate. The asparagus we've been patiently waiting for over the past three years is finally ready to harverst and has been producing handfulls of crisp, fat spikes for the past couple of months. I didn't think we'd have enough broad beans from what we had planted, but because of the wet weather, they had more time to devote to upward and outward growth. Now the warm weather has returned and the bees with it, it's practically raining with the fat little buggers at our place. I've picked three large mixing bowls full of them in the past week alone! Those that make it to the kitchen past my 18-month-old daughter's attentions have been finding their way into just about every meal cooked in our kitchen for the past six weeks. Indeed, they feature in the recipe at the end of this post.

This weekend we took a vote and decided to sacrifice half the beans to put in the first of our tomato seedlings. They'll love it, because not only do the remaining bean plants shelter them from the increasingly harsh afternoon sun, but they've also enriched the soil with their very presence, being the nitrogen-fixing legumes they are. We've also set up a framework and planted climbing beans, put in a trio of globe artichokes that should be coming into their own around this time next year and planted several little nasturtiums that will hopefully cover most of the ground under the grape vines by the middle of Summer.

Glorious Spring. The Blue Wrens have returned from wherever they spend their Winters, as have the Black Cockatoos, whose languid wing beats I've always found strangely reassuring - they're obviously not in any hurry, so why should I be?

But now for a recipe that I hope captures all that rich, vibrant Spring energy and reinvigorates you, the eater, with a sense of hope and renewed purpose (or, at the very least, fills your stomach and leaves a smile on your face). I made this last Sunday and because I only realised halfway through that we had no bread, I knocked up a loaf of one-hour soda bread. Thankfully, it complemented the other ingredients well, so I've included the recipe for this as well.

Spring Poached Eggs for Two

Soda Bread
2 Cup Plain Flour
1 teaspoon Salt
2 teaspoons Baking Powder
1 teaspoon Baking Soda
100g Butter
1 Egg
1 Cup Yoghurt or Buttermilk

How
- Mix dry and wet ingredients in separate bowls, except for the butter.
- Rub butter into dry ingredients until a crumble-like consistency has developed.
- Mix in wet stuff and combine into a dough.
- Knead on a floured bench until smooth (usually about 2-3 minutes).
- Roll into a ball and bake on a greased tray for 40 minutes at C-170.

The Rest
1.5L water
Quarter of a cup of white vinegar
Four eggs (free range, nothing else will do)
3 rashers of bacon
1.5 cups of broad beans (or thereabouts)
8 aparagus spears
Two large field mushrooms (we're growing our own in the shed, so they're legitimately seasonal)
2 sprigs each of thyme and lemon thyme

How
- Add vinegar to water and bring to the boil. Once it's there, reduce temperature to an unsettled simmer.
- Heat a frypan and, having cut bacon up into half-centimetre strips, fry them until they begin to go crispy.
- Slice mushrooms thinly and add to pan, along with the herbs, chopped roughly.
- Using a sieve, blanch broad beans and asparagus in the simmering water for about 30 seconds then add to frypan. It's not necessary at this point to drain them too well, as any excess water will help deglaze the pan.
- Mix all frying ingredients well and grind in black pepper to taste. Remove from heat after a minute or so.
- Toast one thick slice of soda bread per eater.
- Stir water in a circular motion to create a vortex then break in eggs one at a time. Poach them for about two minutes, so the whites have pretty much cooked through but the yolks are still lovely and runny. If you don't like your yolks runny (you're wrong, but who am I to judge?), cook longer.
- Drain the cooked eggs, put them on the toast then add the fried mix around the base.
- Just before eating, squeeze some fresh lemon juice onto the fried vegies and bacon, then eat up and watch the smiles spread slowly across the faces of those eating. Mission accomplished!

So that's my Spring recipe. Hope you all (fictitious readership) have time to stop for a moment in the next month or so and make the most of a gorgeous Spring morning before we descend once again into the relentlessly oppressive heat of Summer.

Buen apetito!