Settling in

Purchased in Rome in June; first use this weekend 

How glad am I that it's this weekend and not last weekend? So glad, indescribably glad. But I'll try to describe anyway.

We've been in our new house since Wednesday. It's now definitely more house than construction zone, but the boxes everywhere, as well as construction tools scattered around, indicate that it's still in a state of transition. It's also situated three minutes' walk from a lake and three minutes' drive from a Target, which is a sweet spot I didn't even know I was looking for until I found it.

The three minutes to Target is proving especially handy at the moment, when we're making daily trips as we unpack and get organized and realize that we don't have enough hangers, or any sponges, or haven't found the pillows yet, or....you get the picture. On moving day I was there twice and DP went three times - an utterly unprecedented event in his experience. DP normally avoids commerce in all its forms, other than buying books at every opportunity.

His close encounter with the Target phenomenon produced a spontaneous observation Wednesday night of the who-are-you-and-what-have-you-done-with-my-real-husband variety: "Target really is great. I mean you can get absolutely anything there!"

(I suppressed all of the many, many inappropriate responses this suggested, and settled for a meaningfully neutral, "Yes, dear, I know.")

Meanwhile, Miss B started school on Tuesday. She's re-starting eighth grade because the Australian and US school years don't align, and the other option was having her miss half of eighth grade and jump into ninth grade. Everyone pertinent to the decision-making process agreed this was a terrible idea, and that the 10,000-mile move, cultural re-integration, and shift from a school with 850 girls to one with 4,000 girls and boys was quite enough challenges to be getting on with.

I think it's safe to say we were all feeling pretty nervous about this aspect of the transition, with anxiety levels ratcheting up slowly but surely over the month of August. I had chosen this school after a lot of research (and an in-person visit during a hectic week of school tours and house hunting back in April), and bought a house in the district on faith that I had made the right call. The closer we got to the First Day, the more I quietly fretted: What if I was wrong?

We were still in temporary accommodation on Tuesday, and we left the apartment shortly after 6:30 to make sure we had more than enough time to make the drive in early morning rush-hour traffic and be at school for 8:00. Miss B, normally a chatterbox, was almost entirely silent. When I reached the drop-off point at the main entrance, she looked at me and said, "Don't worry, Mum, I'll be okay. I can do it." Then she got out, squared her shoulders under her Tardis backpack, and marched into the building.

I made it to the Starbucks parking lot before I cried.

Pickup was in the same spot at 3:00. Miss B bounced into the car, and immediately said the following:

"I had a great first day! You made a good choice. You don't need to worry about me and school anymore."

And then proceeded to talk excitedly about her day, classes, teachers, new classmates, the entire way home, including a trip to the supermarket.

To say I was relieved and happy to hear this is a radical understatement. To have it confirmed by the rest of the week made every remaining hurdle shrink to inconsequential size. And now it's Sunday of the Labor Day long weekend - a milestone I've been working towards for months, when we'd be in the house, getting settled. It's nice to have it really be happening at last, and to be on this side of our 77-day transit.

I wish that everyone else could be having as peaceful a weekend as we are. I hope you are.

Farewell Australia

Sunrise over Mt Ainslie, June 2018

The time has come - after a hectic six weeks three months we are sitting in the airport waiting for our first flight on our last Great Trek north from Australia. (We're heading back to the US via a 10-day holiday in Italy, so updates from there as WiFi permits.)

It's hard to realise that we've been here for six years this time around - the longest we have lived anywhere since DP and I began our international roving twenty (gulp!) years ago. The process of wrapping up our life here and saying our farewells has been an emotional roller coaster at times, especially over the past week. But in spite of saying goodbye to many people and places that we love, I don't think any of us has any doubt or hesitation that this next move is the best thing for all of us. When we left in late 2009, I didn't feel like we had fully finished our Australian chapter; this time around I've given away all my UK/AU cooking appliances, which is about as significant a gesture as I  can think of to indicate my intentions.

So long, Australia. It's been good to know you.

Intercontinental 7.0

Once again I have a major announcement that I can't put off any longer than I already have, trying to wait for the "ideal" moment or way to announce. (You'd think after this many go-rounds, I'd have worked out there is no such thing; or if there is, I've already had my best shot at it.)

So: our Australian sojourn 2.0 is coming to an end; in late June, we will bid farewell to Canberra and set forth on our next adventure - back home to the US. (That's US 4.0, if you're still counting.) We won't be quite back on our home turf, but we'll be closer than we've ever been since we began our international jaunting 20 (!) years ago - metro Washington, DC, just a hop, skip, and jump away. And a pretty interesting place to park in its own right; we're looking forward to getting our second summer of 2018, and starting to find our way around as residents rather than tourists we have always been previously. But first we've got goodbyes to say, belongings to organize and cull, and a fridge and pantry to eat down - let the next stage of the roller-coaster ride commence!

4 | 400

American section of the RL cookbook collection, Canberra Sep 2012

This post is a double milestone for me: my 400^th post here, on the 4^th birthday of Roving Lemon’s Big Adventure.

I don’t think I would have believed it if someone had told me, when I started this blog in an LA hotel room in September 2008, that four years later I’d be commemorating this anniversary in Canberra – newly returned from a 2.5-year stint on the Kansas/Missouri border. Three intercontinental moves in four years! And through it all this blog, and the way that it continues to shape (and shift) my perceptions, has remained one of the constants, no matter what else is in upheaval around me. It has provided challenge, learning, and satisfaction, and helped me to enjoy the journey much more than I might have otherwise – whatever the direction or destination.

I wonder what the next year will bring? (Possibly best not to know in advance?) Whatever it may be, thanks to all of you who’ve come along for any (or all) portions of the journey so far; your company and contributions have been among the best parts.

Keeping up

One of my blogging acquaintances has also just undertaken a major move; she posted the other day that she got everything in their house unpacked and put away in two days.

::crickets chirping::

Sitting here on Delivery Day +5, with boxes all around, I can confidently promise you that that will not be happening at casa Roving Lemon. I haven’t even found the cutting boards yet. Thus, I’m essentially still in a TUK – although it gets a little bit better stocked with each passing day. But until the cupboards and pantry are full, I’m still in the market for recipes that require a minimum of equipment and ingredients.

Chocolate drizzled cinder toffee

adapted from Nigella Express

I made this to bring as a hostess gift during my weekend of displacement activitycooking a couple of weeks ago. Also known as hokey pokey or honeycomb, this is what you find on the inside of Crunchie or Violet Crumble bars, and is like a science experiment you can eat.

100 g/3 oz sugar

4 Tbsp/60 g/2 oz maple syrup

2 tsp/10 g bicarbonate of soda/baking soda

100 g/3 oz dark chocolate

Line a baking tray with parchment paper and put to one side.

Put the sugar and syrup in a saucepan, and stir to mix. According to Nigella, don’t stir it once you’ve put it on the stove (over medium-low heat for those of us who fear caramel).

Keep an eye on the mixture as it melts, then turn to “goo” (again, according to Nigella), then starts bubbling. This should take about 3 minutes in all, and you're supposed to look for it to turn the color of maple syrup. Since mine started out that color, I just kept an eye on the time and the activity in the pan.

Take the pan off the heat and whisk in the bicarb/baking soda. The mixture will immediately lighten in color and become puffy. Pour out of the pan onto the lined baking tray and spread out to an even thickness.

Leave to set in a cool place for at least 30 minutes before applying chocolate.

When ready to top with chocolate, melt chocolate using your preferred method. (I put mine in the microwave, stirring every 30 seconds until it was smooth and shiny.)

Dip a fork in the melted chocolate and then drizzle all over the toffee until coated to your satisfaction. Put aside to cool and set again before chopping or breaking into bite-sized pieces.

Makes enough for 5-6 people to nibble on extensively with coffee after a meal.

Moving Monday

We got the word on Thursday that Australian Customs had cleared our household goods for delivery, and at 8am today I was at the house to meet the moving crew. They proceeded to dump 50,000 boxes in our new rental (this may be a slight exaggeration), and by 6pm I had unpacked 5 of them (this, sadly, is not). We'll be taking up permanent residence as soon as I have unearthed and cleaned sufficient bedding and plates to allow us to camp out among the piles. (Keep your fingers crossed that this happens before Thursday, which is our we're-not-extending-it-any-further checkout date for our temporary accommodation.) I did find my cast-iron skillet in the third box, so the signs are auspicious. Stay tuned!

In progress

No word yet on a delivery date for our household goods. At least once every day for the past week or more, I have a moment of complete and overwhelming frustration at being in life limbo and my total inability to do anything to change that. This is usually rapidly followed by an internal talking-to about my first world problems and an attempt to focus my attention elsewhere, on things that I can control.

This past weekend, my displacement activity was an afternoon in the kitchen, focused on cooking projects that I could carry out with the TUK’s limited resources: a batch of skillet jam for Miss B’s morning toast; a batch of roasted rhubarb (plus strawberries) for my morning yogurt; a tray of cinder toffee, drizzled with chocolate and boxed up as a hostess gift for a lunch invitation for the following day (more on this later); and two jars of preserved lemons.

Preserved lemons are a great project to undertake when you’re itching to can something, but the circumstances aren’t auspicious. At the moment, I don’t have a pot deep enough to water-bath can anything. Nor is it exactly high season for cannable produce in Canberra right now, what with it being the last month of winter and all. But citrus is definitely still in season – I got 2 kilos (~4.5 lbs) of various kinds for about AUD $5 last week at the famers’ market – and preserved lemons require exactly two ingredients: lemons and salt.

Perhaps even more appropriately for my current situation, preserved lemons also require a third, less tangible element: time. Recipes generally recommend that you let them do their thing (steep? brew? pickle? ferment?) for at least 3 weeks before using. So this project, in addition to giving purpose to a weekend afternoon and preserving a fruit at the height of its quality, is also an investment in my own future – a physical manifestation of the hope that, by the time these lemons are ready to use, I’ll be back in a kitchen of my own, settling in to the next phase of this transition.

Preserved lemons

All of the recipes I looked at included complicated instructions for slicing into the lemons to get salt into their insides while keeping them intact. Since I immediately screwed this technique up on my very first lemon, I made the executive decision that quartering the lemons wouldn’t dramatically alter the chemical process going on here, or the taste of the finished product. Plus, it made them easier to cram into the jars.

8 lemons, unwaxed if possible

2 cups/~12 oz/360 g of kosher/cooking salt

Have available 1 or 2 clean jars for storing the lemons. Avoid metal lids, as these could corrode from the salt/acid concentration.

Wash and dry the lemons, scrubbing skins if necessary to remove any grit or dirt. Put salt into a medium-sized bowl. Cut the lemons into quarters and toss in the salt to coat, then stuff into the jars, pressing down on them to release the juice. Try to extract enough juice to cover the contents of the jar(s); once you have filled up the jar(s), sprinkle over 1-2 Tbsp of salt as insurance.

Close the jar(s) and store in a cool place, away from direct sunlight, for at least 3 weeks. Turn the jar(s) occasionally to redistribute the juice and salt.

Stay tuned for updates on how mine turned out - and what I do with them.

Day 84

Today marks 12 weeks since the last meal I ate in my own kitchen – a salad and various other leftovers with SP while the movers emptied the house around us. In honor of this minor milestone, here’s one I made earlier: my last major cooking project before we left Missouri.

 

In the midst of one of our many conversations about food (which we talked about at least as much as music theory or guitar technique), my guitar teacher mentioned the toasted ravioli that he had eaten on a recent trip to St. Louis, and how he wanted to replicate it. He thought, knowing my Italian heritage, that I might be able to assist him in this endeavor. I’d never heard of toasted ravioli (apparently a St. Louis specialty?) until he described it, but I’ve been making batches of ravioli with various gatherings of female relatives for as long as I can remember, so I figured I could at least help him with the raw materials. I offered to be the teacher for a change, and we spent an enjoyable Saturday afternoon in May covering every flat surface in my kitchen with flour. He concocted a filling of spicy sausage and chopped, sautéed mushrooms, and I contributed my grandmother’s cheese filling (it took me a long time to find out that ravioli was ever stuffed with anything else).

Nana's ravioli

If you do this by yourself, it will take a couple of hours from start to finish. I highly recommend doing it as a group project if you've got any like-minded friends or family around; it's much more fun and gets done a lot faster.

Wordless Wednesday

New Canberra kitchen (and look! it's not brown!), August 2012

Transition management

We are (I hope!) coming to the end of our physical transition: we’ve signed a lease on a rental house, and picked up the keys and completed paperwork yesterday. We’ve been notified that our belongings have arrived in Australia, and, once they have successfully cleared customs and quarantine (all available appendages crossed), will be on their way to us. With a bit of luck, all the dates will dovetail nicely and it won’t be too much longer until we’re established in a more permanent situation, with our familiar belongings around us.

The mental transition is still ongoing. It’s a big undertaking to move to a new country so far away, even one where you’ve already lived. I am very focused on providing continuity and consistency for everyone, myself included, but there’s no way around the fact that there are practical, emotional, and cultural obstacles that must be navigated, and that some of them are bigger than others. It’s easy to lose perspective when you feel as if you’ve been cut adrift from everything familiar, and haven’t yet learned the landmarks and signposts of your new surroundings. Even the most sanguine people get blindsided some days. I was reminded of this forcefully the other night, when what started as a typical bedtime conversation ended in tears for both a normally cheerful eight-year-old and her normally everything’s-under-control mother.

But it’s okay; some days, that’s just what needs to happen. Maybe that’s what it takes to regain perspective. For me, as always, turning to food and cooking helps. As long as I can get into a kitchen, I know there’s least there’s one area of my life where I can feel a semblance of control, where I can trust that if I do A, B is almost certain to follow. And where a warm apple dessert cannot fail to revive my spirits and bolster me up to try again tomorrow.

TUK tarte tatin

Tarte tatin has long been high on my list of favorite desserts, but this is the first one I’ve ever made. I think it took the stripped-down mise en place of the TUK to make me realize that despite its glamorous presentation, tarte tatin is a much more straightforward dessert-making proposition to make than it might at first appear.

2 medium-sized tart green apples (such as Bramley or Granny Smith)

4 Tbsp butter

2-4 Tbsp sugar

1 sheet puff pastry

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F. Peel, core, and thickly slice the apples. Take sheet of puff pastry out of freezer to thaw.

Put an ovenproof skillet on the stovetop on medium heat, and melt 2 Tbsp of the butter. Add half of the apple slices, and sprinkle these with 1 Tbsp of sugar. Saute the apples, stirring occasionally, until they have softened and you see some browning on them, 6-8 minutes; taste as you go and see if you feel the need to add more sugar.

When lightly browned and sufficiently sweetened, remove the apples from the pan and repeat the process with the remaining butter and apples, again sweetening to taste as you go.

When second batch of apples is cooked, turn off the heat but do not remove apples from pan. Instead, arrange them in a pattern around the bottom of the pan.

Take now-thawed puff pastry, and cut into a circle slightly larger than the bottom of the pan. Place pastry over apples in bottom of pan, tucking in the sides around the apples.

Place skillet in the oven and cook until the pastry is fully cooked to a light golden brown, 30-40 minutes. When tarte is cooked, remove pan from oven, but leave tarte in pan to cool somewhat, 15-20 minutes.

When ready to remove tarte from pan, run a knife or spatula around the edge to loosen it up. Place a serving plate larger than the pan over the tarte, then carefully (warning: hot apple syrup!) flip the plate and pan together so that the plate is underneath and tarte falls out onto it. Tarte should be on plate with puff pastry on the bottom and apples on top.

Serves 6-8 people for dessert, or 1 mother in need.

Temporary kitchen

We are fully immersed in re-orientation - setting up mobile phones and bank accounts, completing school paperwork and buying uniforms....Internet access continues to be a bit tricky from an actual computer; I'm posting this from the local library, where wifi is now available (a change from 3 years ago), so it might be possible to include a photo with my next update! Our hotel apartment is basic but functional; I was overjoyed to find that it has a gas stove, which almost makes up for the fact that the cooking equipment consists of 3 saucepans and a very small skillet. So I'll be getting creative about what I'm cooking, as well as investing in a few pieces of additional equipment that will supplement my tiny batterie de cuisine without duplicating something I already have and don't need two of. Should make for some interesting challenges in the near future....Recipe and equipment suggestions welcome!

Touchdown 2.0

Hello from Canberra! After completing a jam-packed visit to Boston, a two-day layover in Dallas, and 24 hours in the capable hands of Qantas, we are safely arrived. We've checked in to our temporary accommodation, stocked up on some basic groceries, and are now focusing on staying awake until bedtime. I'm even going to cook my now-traditional First Dinner - Italian bangers and mash (because it requires minimal ingredients and cookware, and can be managed even by those whose jet lag is making them fuzzier by the minute). More updates to follow when I've had a proper night's sleep and have worked out my electronics so I can post a photo or two.

#1 place

After a no-driving day spent taking in the ambience and delicious food of Montreal, we headed south back over the border and into the whirlwind that is every visit to Boston. We've spent the past few days cramming in time with parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins; re-visiting old haunts; and even trying to catch up with a few friends amidst the extended-family onslaught. The weather has been totally uncooperative, featuring mostly grey skies, temperatures in the 50s, and regular chilling, drenching downpours, and making me wish daily that I'd packed more pairs of long pants and fewer t-shirts and shorts. I've decided to consider it preparation for heading into winter in Canberra, and looking forward to picking up the boxes of warm winter clothes that I hope are waiting for us when we arrive in a few days. (Canberra correspondents, feel free to weigh in on what to expect in the next few weeks!)

Happy Monday to all! Hope your weekends have been as entertaining (or as restful) as you could desire.

Northern detour

After covering nearly 1100 miles in our first two marathon days of driving, we've taken it a bit easier the last two, covering a (comparatively) measly 400 miles. Yesterday we cruised along the back roads of northern New York state to spend Memorial Day with friends who've recently relocated to a scenic town on the shores of Lake Ontario; they treated us to a classic American cookout, since this will be our last holiday in the US for a while. Burgers and dogs on the grill, devilled eggs, and potato and bean salads; plus possibly the best homemade salsa I've ever had; the best cosmo, hands down; and Italian-coffee-bar-worthy coffee this morning to wake me up after last night's festivities. It was just what I needed after an overdose of mediocre road food.

Today we headed north again, crossing the border into Canada, and heading for DP's old stomping ground: Montreal, because he can't get within 200 miles of the place and not drop in. He did two of his degrees here, so it was his second home for a long time, and my regular weekend and vacation destination. We wandered around the old neighborhood, showed Miss B some of the landmarks of our student years, had some really good Chinese food for dinner, and even found my favorite Canadian sweet treat (cannelle classique svp!) for a surprise dessert. Definitely a worthwhile detour.

Cross country

Baby, if you've ever wondered/wondered whatever became of me...

Packing and loading have been successfully completed, and we're now on to Phase 3: driving cross country to Boston for a visit before heading overseas, dropping in on various people along the way. We left Missouri yesterday heading east, and crossed Illinois and Indiana; then stopped overnight in Louisville, Kentucky to catch up with friends we haven't seen since we were all living in England 13 years ago. Then today, after a leisurely and tasty breakfast, we turned northeast and trekked across Kentucky and Ohio, a corner of northwestern Pennsylvania, and into upstate New York, stopping for the night in Buffalo.

Breakfast was the high point of the day, eating-wise; if you want to eat well on US road trips, you either really have to do your homework before setting off, or else be prepared to wander off the beaten path. I ran out of time to do the homework, and with 500 miles to cover today, there wasn't much wiggle room for wandering. Luckily the schedule eases up from tomorrow, so I'm hoping to have some eating adventures to report soon. Until then, I'll be relying on the Mother of All Road Trip Food Bags to provide treats. 

Phase 2

A surprise diversion in the midst of my two-day moving extravaganza came this morning, just when I was expecting the truck and loaders to arrive. Instead I got the sod guys, who we finally got around to scheduling to repair the damage done by having the sewer pipe replaced back in March. They had told us to expect them early next week, when we would have already been on the road, but then they found a chunk of time to fit our little job in today. (They were on their way to re-sod a baseball field next - quite a bit bigger (and more lucrative) than my back lawn!) It was such a treat for me to see it like this; after 2+ months of looking at a dried-out mud plain, today I could look up from my labors and refresh my senses with the sight of a lush, velvety carpet of green. It made the back yard look very inviting, and made me feel very sad that I wouldn't be around to enjoy it fully this summer. And it highlighted one of the big lessons I'll be taking away from living here: don't wait until you're getting ready to leave to make your house look its best so you can impress other people. Make it look its best so you can enjoy it while you're there. Something I'll try hard to remember, and apply, when we find our next house and all our stuff reappears.