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Photos du Jour: Late Winter Walk over the top of Port Chalmers

11/10/2019

 
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The waterlogged Sea Scouts barge was finally chainsawed into nothingness a month or so ago.  RIP its rotten old timbers.  We will miss its picturesque obsolescence.
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​Port's domestic structure is a whacky Victorian labyrinth of narrow little streets draped over the bulbous topography like a lace doily.  Some are no more than lanes to this day, with mossy banks encroaching on their shitty tarmac and insufficient room for two cars to pass abreast.  Frost can mean you slide backwards on the steep dips in the shade of the blobby ridge that runs lengthwise along the centre of the peninsula.  It's about 60m above sea level according to topographic maps, but it feels much higher than this, as you can probably see.  This represents yet another annoying discrepancy between my expectations and physical reality, so I just add another 200m or so in my mind in order to approach the preferred 300 m +/- range.  

People have won presidential office with this kind of stuff, so I'm just waiting on the whole salary and acclaim package.
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Bellbirds and Tuis rattle the dead branches of the blue gums as they clamber around them, looking for insects and shouting at each other; their language consists of fluting, bill clapping, cackling, sneezing, warbling, chiming and diving flights full of intimidating wing sounds like taffeta swooshed hard past your ear.

People dump their green waste in historically-designated slash unofficial middens on the side of the road, where it merges down into the tangled scrub below.
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From Island Terrace, the view becomes quite bougie, almost Riviera.  Well, it does if the fucking ugly Port Otago warehouse carbuncle is factored out.  At the present time, these are mostly grotty yachts, which is not as pejorative as it sounds.  They are the kind of hobby and old-school craft middle-aged people might remember their parents and grandparents owning, sitting quiescent for most of the year and puttering out into the greater harbour for a bit of fishing on summer weekends.  A few people live on them semi-permanently but there's not really a huge culture of that here, probably because housing was cheap until recently.  They are hauled up onto the tiny local winch dock for loving maintenance before being returned to their relatively affordable moorings.

It occurred to me the other day that the gentrification quickly gathering pace around Dunedin will sweep rich boaty twats and their launches into these scenes in a few short years.  They're turning up now on the weekends, so it's just a matter of time until Port becomes bland and middling enough for them to dimly recognise its advantages.  I know I always say doomy shit like this, but it's inevitable, isn't it?  They will demand upgrades and memberships and wharf extensions and all this will become another marina for property speculators in black 4WDs.  All those peculiarly unhappy tight-faced white men with disregarded golden retrievers and boats on trailers parked up on their double drives under spotless canvas covers, emblazoned with names like Blade, Samurai, Sea Eagle and Moonraker II.  And Vixxen.   With two x's, which is probably more apposite than they realise.

It's never Goodbye Remaining Equity, Bought This Fukken Thing To Impress My Side Piece or Half A Metre Smaller Than My Brother In Law's Boat, is it?  Lol.
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A fine stand of Cabbage Trees.  Not Cabbage Palms, confused northern hemisphere people.  They are in fact Lomandroideae or Agavoideae​, depending who you talk to.  Once again the chilled goods warehouse shits all over a formerly nice view; I cut it out below.

A lot of people destroy their Cabbage Trees or refuse to plant them because they drop their leaves.  Why not shoot the dog for breathing while you're at it?  
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I can't remember who built this hull-shaped rock sculpture on the southern end of Back Beach; think it was a local artist?  There's not much reference to it online and I don't think many people actually notice it for what it is.  Which is okay; sometimes art should sneak up on you.  As someone ruthlessly opposed to whimsical expression, I took a hard line at first and disliked it, but we've come to appreciate its moody ironies and also the kind of workpersonship that has seen it last in good shape for quite a while now.  It is appurtenant without being overly literal and seems perfectly content in its own mystery.  It thrives in the wild, coming and going with the tide.  It's not plastered with credits and sponsors.  It's the best piece of public art in the area.
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Port Chalmers, New Zealand   *   Our Photography   *   Selected Ravings


liked these Madagascan animal portraits by Simon Rehn

9/10/2019

 
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Parsons Chameleon / palm / Black Lemur
see the rest here

Kitchen Bitch: Blood Orange & Ginger Jam

6/10/2019

 
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Not everyone loves marmalade, but that's cool, because this isn't marmalade.  I promise.  Marmalade is justly unpopular with discerning citizens and for very good reason; there's a lot of really shitty material out there, just waiting to drag one's tastebuds on a horror ride from what is this into fucking hell get it off me territory with its puzzlingly perverse and irredeemable bitterness.  

Orange jam is an entirely different thing. 
It is bitter-free, punching down the brilliant, UV-soaked flavours of raw citrus into a slightly caramelised gloop swimming with soft chunks of chewy, jellied, padparadscha goodness and peppery, perfumed ginger.  We both love it and it's possibly my personal all-time favourite jam.  ​You can't really fuck it up either, so feel free to have a go.

As a confirmed citrus freak, I burn my oral membranes out each and every winter, sucking down every variety I can lay my greedy paws on.  If you've never tasted a blood orange, you will possibly be surprised by the literal nature of their flesh and their lack of upfront acidity.  Their complex, dirty undertones can creep almost toward umami; they're not super-weird, but they're not for everyone.  It isn't absolutely necessary to go hunting them down for this recipe; those brilliant late winter Navels are just as good, if not better preservation prospects, due to the persistence of their high notes and clean sweetness.  I like the bloods because they're a bit exotic and the colour is more intense.
Choose relatively unblemished oranges if you're concerned about aesthetics, as the skin is visible in the final result.  It's not crucial, though, and you're better off sourcing wonky organic fruit sans the weird waxy crap some produce is dipped in these days to extend shelf life.
 
The only remotely special item needed for this recipe is a big fuck-off cooking pot that can take twelve large oranges and 3kg of sugar.  The one I use is about 24cm across and 20 high, and it's still a bit inadequate, really; get a bigger one if you can.

You don't need to be anal about the quantities.  Just don't use too much water or your pulp will take too long to boil down and I actually think 3L is probably more optimal than the amount quoted. The ginger quotient is up to you; we like lots and use a whole large-ish hunk of it.  Leave it out altogether if you're not into it.
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Please note that this recipe calls for overnight soaking of combined fruit.  You can probably cut this down to a long afternoon if pressed.  As a general principle, I suggest it's better to be organised and righteous than sloppy when it comes to making preserves.  Botulism loves poor impulse control.
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Juice the lemons.  Chuck the juice, oranges, ginger and water into the cooking pot as per above pic and leave covered in a cool room or fridge overnight.

The next day, bring the fruit and water mix to the boil and keep it going at a lively roll for around 40 min.  See how the pot at right is too small?  Don't do that; jam burns from overflows and spatters suck dog's balls.

Remove from heat, add the sugar slowly and mix very well, keeping it off the bottom.  Anything stuck there will burn horribly and ruin the jam. 
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INGREDIENTS

12 large oranges (blood, or whatever)
3 huge or 4 medium lemons
1 medium stick of fresh root ginger
3 kilos of white sugar

3.5 L water
8-10 medium/large jars
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METHODOLOGY
​

​Rigorously clean all the fruit, ginger included.  No need to peel the latter unless you're one of those people.  

Look the oranges over for soft spots, nasty bits and mould; don't waste the whole fruit, just cut a wide margin around these blemishes.  I top and tail the oranges to eliminate annoying thick pieces in the final result but that's up to you.

​Cut all oranges in half, then half again and then into narrow strips, remembering the final thickness of rind will persist in the result, so think about the dimensions you prefer.  Slice the ginger down to whatever thickness pleases you. 
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Return to heat and stir fairly regularly to make sure everything's dissolved.  Keep it on a medium boil for another 40-60 min until it reduces to around two thirds (as per left pic) and starts bunching on the spoon and cool-setting.  You might need or prefer to boil for longer depending on how thick and sticky you like the jam; I prefer runny, so come out at around 50 min.  (The jam will set further in the fridge once opened so don't panic).

Importantly, you should let this jam rest in the pan, off heat, for around 10 mins to cool before filling your jars, so the orange pieces don't all float to the top- I was a bit impatient and you can see it in pic below.
Use a sterilised ladle and/or jam funnel (just buy one goddamit) to get it into oven-sterilised jars (100 celsius for at least 10 mins including lids).  I filled 9 medium to large jars here but it varies every time, so clean more than you think you'll need.  

​Mine still slops around in the jar after a notional set, but you can boil it down to rubbery firmness; while I personally think this is gross, you're the one eating it.  We like to spoon it out and let the syrup soak into the toast while the fruit sits on top, smiling at you.  Refrigerate once opened.  Use liberally in 
poultry recipes, sauces and on cakes, too.
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