“Purple plums, verdant green meadows and something to look forward to ”
Torta della Nonna
As I write this post I’m already back in London, sitting at my desk by a window, surveying the quiet streets of our neighbourhood and looking at the beginnings of the renovation project right next door to Elisabeth David’s former house.
It’s very sunny today, the skies are mostly clear blue, the warm rays of sunshine are working their wonders but I can already feel on my skin a very noticeable whisper of Fall waiting just round the corner. This summer ended very abruptly, like a flip of a coin or a turning of your palm.
We are currently suspended in between the seasons, longing for the end of summer balmy days to endure whilst starting to crave hearty and slow cooked meals to warm up our bodies..
As I’m quite saddened by this brisk change of weather which leaves us with nothing but to say good bye to the days that we all have to wait for a whole year to see again, I started to reminiscent of our stay in our family home in Poland.
Almost every August, predominantly the second half of it as it’s my father’s birthday, we follow our endearing ritual and set off to spend some quality time with my family.
The time that we share in the midst of the rural countryside back home flows at a different pace, not necessarily implying a slower pace, just different. It’s more like a calm drift from one day to another. The days start more or less the same way: I wake up at dawn and have my first coffee on the terrace, either in solitude or in the company of my father (you might spot him on one of the images checking on the meadows), who’s always been a very early riser. When you get up so early almost all your life, usually before 6 am (actually more often than not around 5 am), your natural clock will never reverse back. You see, my father grew up on a farm, and has both with my mother a farm of their own. And so, my older brother and I grew up in a farming family and community.
The time spent in my homeland is not just all blissful leisure and long walks with our two little dogs. There is always something to do, to help with, to discuss, to sort out, to check on the farm and at this time of year – to inspect the verdant green meadows, which lie a few kilometres away in a very picturesque setting of another, centred around XVIII century palace, little village in the background.
Spaghetti with a Tomato and Anchovy Sauce
Polish Plum Yeast Cake
Being born and raised in the countryside has left so many lasting impressions in my heart and memory. I vividly recall the seductive scents and earthy notes of the trees, moss after the rain in the nearby wood, blooming yellow rapeseed, bushes of lilac, the soil being turned on the fields and the delightful hum of bees making local honey, all of which are second to none.
Sadly, when you go away from home to a high school and then to university (and live in a city after that), you tend to gradually leave all this natural beauty behind. Ever since I started spending more time back home, the Dégustateur loves it there too, I’ve felt a much happier and balanced person. I needed the nature back in my life and this enduring connection will always remain a part of me, of who I am. I’ll always be this girl who grew up in a Polish village, went to the local school, helped on the farm, spent every Friday afternoon after school on long walks in a park or along a back road through the fields of crops, or went ice skating on a frozen lake. Oh, how delightful it was to come home on a winter afternoon and be welcomed by an enticing smell of freshly baked cake, best eaten still warm, as ever. My very favourite cake, a tender memory of my childhood is drożdżówka, a pillowy yeast cake with fruit and crumbly topping, that every household will have its own recipe for. I call it sometimes a welcome cake because my brother and I would always find it upon our arrival for the weekends at home (a school routine for many years). We have always had particular preferences about this cake: to have it on the moist side, which was a rare occurrence, mostly when something went wrong and the cake didn’t raise. You may laugh now but it’s true. I love it when either sour cherries or plums are used for baking the drożdżówka. I’ve tried apricots and peaches, a good substitute, but still not my first choice. Somehow over the years my mother’s version of this cake has been leaning towards the dry side, which left me with eating it almost immediately straight from the oven or dunked into tea or a morning coffee. I’ve only started baking the drożdżówka on my own relatively recently. It was when we lived in Florence, and since we initially didn’t know anyone to share it with, I came up with a different recipe: for a smaller portion, more buttery and more moist. Then by trial and error, changing the ratio of the ingredients here and there I’ve found my perfect recipe, which includes natural yogurt (instead of milk). It helps the pillowy soft dough stay fresh for longer, but in Poland there was no need for it, we all ate it almost immediately when I baked it.
The first plums had just started to appear: deep purple in colour with firm yellow-green flesh and sweet, so the timing couldn’t have been better. My brother spent more time with us this summer, more than usually, and he loved “my drożdżówka“ so much, that I ended up baking it three times within one week. He actually assisted me once taking meticulous notes, perhaps he will bake it one day too. So far my mother has followed the recipe and sent me some pictures, from which I could see that it came out very well, so well that it also disappeared in almost no time, with the greatest contribution of my brother, who had it warm with a glass of milk – these things never change either. It was an unexpected family success which couldn’t make me any happier.
Prawn and Dill Frittata
Torta della Nonna
When it comes dinner preparations we take turns. We enjoy them on the terrace once the temperatures drop a little and are so pleasant that we just linger over a simple meal for a couple of hours or until dark. I always try to introduce something new. This year, apart from the plum yeast cake, I made us spaghetti tossed with a tomato and anchovy sauce, using different variations of tomatoes from my mother’s little orchard at the back of the house. My father hadn’t been a devoted pasta eater (contrary to his wife), but his habits have changed over the years and a few good pasta courses back in Italy.
Since my mother likes prawns I prepared a prawn and dill frittata, following a recipe from the late Russell Norman’s cook book “Venice”. Dill, which we all love, was such an unexpectedly pleasing surprise to me as I had always finished any seafood dish with the conventional parsley.
There was also Torta della Nonna, a custard and pine nut pie, a nostalgic nod to Rome, because it’s where I tried it for the first time and where I’ve had it most often.
As I’m finishing writing this post I can see through the window an elegant lady crossing our street. She is wearing a winter coat, not a fur coat, but still proper winter attire.
Well, next weekend my best friend comes over for a visit and she is bring some warmer weather with her. Something to look forward to!!
Drożdżówka