Rohan Anderson's Blog, page 2

Scars & Killer Harissa

It was a normal start to the day. My partner got up earlier than me, as she does every weekday. She wakes me up standing by the bed with a mug of hot brewed coffee that steams in the cold bedroom air. She sat on the edge of the bed and we shared that five minutes together before the kids come in, preparation for the school day begins and the morning slips into chaos.

This morning was slightly different. I got a happy birthday kiss, a few nice handmade kids cards and a pair of old country records. I’m almost 40, I guess statistically I’m halfway to the end. I don’t feel anything like my age, I just feel me. But these past few days I have been contemplating my existence thus far. I liked me as a kid, pre-teenage years. I haven’t really liked me since then. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, there have been plenty of moments where I’ve been selfish, thoughtless and mean. I’m not a total arsehole but I’m no angel either. I’m sure all of us would be able to say that if we where honest with ourselves. I like be honest with myself, it helps me to introspective and thus make change.

I really didn’t like the old version of me, so I’ve been working on change. I want to be part of something positive, I don’t want to be part of the problem. Anyway, a lot of this probably isn’t making much sense. I just know I carry some scars of my past, be they physical, mental and emotional. I try not to dwell on them too much, I’d rather try to better myself and move on, which is the harder option. The other option is to load up my truck and disappear forever.

Having a go at it is what keeps me going. For example, last year I built a poly tunnel to grow warm climate veg. I was too late in the season finishing the build, so I failed to get the veg in on time, and thus had a shortened season. The late summer winds also blew the structure down and I had to rebuild one from scratch. I was so devastated about fucking up and not building something strong enough to withstand the weather. But I had another go, built a new one, with stronger steel frames sourced from a generous mate. It has survived summer and now it looks like it may withstand the fierce autumn winds. As a result I have red ripened jalapeño in big numbers for the first time. The red jalapeño makes a nicer Harissa, it makes a nicer smoked chipotle too. Hell red is just sweeter and full of taste. The green ones are ok too, I still have plenty of green jalapeño that will get used in salsa picante and maybe get smoked.

We as humans can be a great support network or we can be emotional obstacles to each other. Over the years I’ve put myself ‘out there’ and it’s brought about some great positive interaction and also plenty of negative reactions. I’m not trained in public relations, I’m not well versed in how to effectively communicate on social media, instead I’m just a bloke that kind of fell into it. And that has brought about some problems. Somebody told me recently that I ask for too many things, and that I should get off my arse and get a job like everyone else. This hurt me. Just because I no longer have a desk job, I actually work very hard, and I’ve only ever used social media to ask for help where I can’t do it on my own. I guess I’m too idealistic when I think people out there are as passionate about this cause as I am. And I’m sorry for that. I take full responsibility for that mistake. And that’s why I’ve been doing things myself. I’m working towards buying land with my own money to set up this little project I have planned to share my way of living with people that are interested in learning (btw – every veg box I sell allows me to put money towards a deposit for land). Nothing is set in stone with this project, it’s going to be a continually evolving concept, just like us humans. We change, even though we carry scars of the past. Things that hurt us, challenge us and generally bring us down. If we only worked together.

We have many problems, us humans. But we also have the potential to work together and make something good from something that’s a bit shit. Last year I didn’t have red jalapeño Harissa, but with the help of a friend I now have a jar of spicy hot Harissa to enjoy over the next few weeks. In the scheme of things it’s rather insignificant, but for some reason I couldn’t help but make a note of it as I tightened the lid on my jar of hot red sauce. Sometimes it’s those little things that make all the difference.

Happy Meal

Tonights meal was the bomb. I had to share it with you because it’s everything I want to achieve in life (in regards to food and life-style etc).

It was a simple meal, really nothing flash at all. But it was delicious. It made me happy. It was a happy meal to eat. And best of all, most of it came about from effort on my behalf, i.e. I grew it.

Zucchini grilled, fresh garden rocket, dill leaves, jalapneo and onion all plucked from the backyard garden. It was dressed with home made red wine vinegar and topped with my Jamon lardons which I fried.

This meal if everything to me. It’s what I want to share with people when I set up The Nursery Project. I want to make this with complete strangers and get them excited about real food and how to grow and raise it.

I love my back garden, but it’s a rental. I won’t be here for ever. In fact I’ve started looking at patches of land where I can set up the Project. Land IS NOT cheap man! And now that I’m buying this land with my measly finances I’m kinda freaking out.

What if no one comes to learn? What if the Nursery Project is a complete dismal flop? I guess I just have to continue on and hope for the best. The main goal is to set up a place to share ideas and knowledge. Worse case scenario, I’m sure I’ll cover that goal.

That’s a reality I’d like to see change.

A few weeks ago I cold smoked a bunch of trout that I caught out of my mate Jacks dam. Being fish that live in still water they can taste a bit muddy at times so I opt for the smoking approach, which tends to distract you from the earthy flavour of dam trout. And let’s face it, who doesn’t like smoked trout?

After I dropped the kids off to school this morning, I made myself a fine breakfast, albeit late. The cold smoked trout was the centre piece. I cut off a few slices from a loaf of sourdough I baked last night, scooped out some ripe avocado, lay over some slices of the smoked trout, topped it with grilled jalapeño, added fennel fronds from the garden, and finally crumbled over soft goat feta on top. A season of salt and pepper and breakfast was made. It was delicious.

As I sat on the stool looking out through the kitchen window, munching and enjoy the food, I thought about all the ingredients for my meal. I was content that I knew what was in my food, and how the ingredients came to be on my kitchen bench. Then I thought a lot about a bag of grapes. Yes a bag of grapes. No I wasn’t eating the grapes, the grapes I was thinking about where in a bag that was offered to us at a diner we visited after school yesterday. The lovely lady that owns the diner offered my kids the grapes to eat as her son could no longer eat them. She explained that he now has an allergic reaction to them, he comes out in hives. I had a spell of hives when I was a kid once, it’s not cool.

I looked at the packet of fresh looking grapes and noticed in large letters printed on the plastic bag ‘ALLERGY ADVICE, MAY CONTAIN: SULPHUR DIOXIDE’. I pointed this out to the lady at that just offered them and she was amazed that she had not noticed this health warning that was clearly printed in large print. I thanked her for the offer, but wasn’t keen for my kids to eat them so I declined.

I took a photo of the grapes though and loaded it to my instagram account with the caption ‘amazeballs’. Because, well quite frankly I find it amazing that we are offered food that has been treaded with something like sulphur dioxide to keep it ‘fresh’. There are lots of cases where sulphites are used as a preservative in foods, and wine, and they do an amazing job of keep food preserved. They also cause some reactions in our humans bodies too. Hives is one example, but shortness of breath and asthma is another, and there are many more, some I’m sure we will learn about well into the future.

The point I’m making is (and you can call me a hippy here) I just find it amazing that we tamper with our food so much, without 100% categorically knowing the implications and adverse effects it may have on our health. We as consumers buy this stuff, we eat it, and thus we introduce certain chemical compositions into our bodies. We do this happyily trusting that it’s safe. There was a warning on the packet, so that should do the trick right?

It’s a bit of a gamble though. Not all of us have a medical science background. Not all of us have spent a lifetime researching the effects of preservatives in food on humans. Not all of us have lived a full life of consuming such food to see what happens at the end. But we continue to eat it. Fully trusting in government legislation and regulation. That is until something fucks up, like say contracting Hepatitis A from imported frozen berries from China. Now don’t think I’m simply taking this weeks hot food scare story to bolster my message about eating real food, there is so many bad food stories out there that I could write something about it each week, this weeks Hepatitis A food news is not an isolated incident. There is an endless supply of stories about how peoples health is effected by packaged food, processed food or any food that’s been treated with pesticides or preservatives. Then there’s the modern western illness of obesity and it’s long list of health implications. We could go on about it for hours, days, months.

I guess what I’m trying to say is the writings on the wall. It’s been on the wall for a long time. There are many people that will poke fun at this message, and that is to be expected. Poke fun as they may, the principle reality that shit food equates to shit health will still remain.

The reality is that our bodies are natural machines that run well on natural fuels, not tampered food. You don’t even need to be a scientist to comprehend that principle. I like this reality, it’s what I try to live my life by. It’s one of those realities we can’t change, just like the one about nature not needing us, but us needing nature. The planet would survive quite happily without humans, but we desperately need natural resources to keep us alive.

One reality that I find a bit shitty, is that western humans simply will not change. The isles at the supermarkets will continue to be stocked with ‘food’ that is highly processed and that eventually will make us sick. The fast food chains will continue to have millions of robotic customers through their doors, and as a result we will continue to get fatter, sicker and eventually reduce our life expectancy. And you know what? Who gives a shit?

A minority of people give a shit. A minority of people are prepared to make change in their lives, for their health, for the health of their family and for the health of the natural world. It’s not a matter of Us Vs Them. You either think it’s important or you don’t.

I don’t really want to engage in any discussions about this anymore. It’s like flogging a dead horse. It’s becoming a real waste of time arguing with people that seem to be siding with the idea that processed foods are ok, and everything is alright. Well it’s not. And I figure most people are going to continue to remain ignorant, and they can because thats the beauty of personal and free choice. The only problem with this system is that by the time I’m old and needing health care, the medical system will be full of sick people that could have made a change when they where younger. That pressure on the health system will be phenomenal. And that’s a reality I’d like to see change.

Until next time, Eucumbene

The hill climb past Corryong made the old Fairmont’s engine moan. With each tight winding corner came another, then another. It seems like a never ending labyrinth of tight corners, steep descents and hill climbs that would challenge Sir Edmund Hillary. Sometimes the drop off to the side of the road is so steep, you lose your stomach peeking over when you drive. Some unlucky bastards made the plunge, their land cruiser looked a little worse for ware, actually it was a right off for sure. I kept my eye on the road, and we where feeling fresh from an over night stay at a friends house on Lake Hume.

Breaking up the drive for this years high country fly fish was a brilliant idea. I think it’s a bit safer than making the trip in a single day. A rest can do wonders on such a long haul. Well it’s not really that far a drive, all things considered, it’s just the terrain. It takes a lot out of a driver, concentrating on the demanding roads. But we’re not here to talk about road trips. It’s fly fishing that takes me this high up the mountains each year. It’s all about the Eucumbene.

It’s a river that has definitely entranced me. I will return year after year to fish it’s challenging waters. It has provided me with some magnificent memories and some heart breaking fishing moments. What was in stall for us this year, was anyones guess. This year I travelled up with my mate Raynor, as Jeff had decided to fish Tasmania this summer. Raynor’s a keen fisherman and was chomping at the bit to fish the majestic river.

We arrived Sunday, headed out on the water in the afternoon. The water was at a good level, not too low as it had been my previous visit. The water is fresh and clean, so clean we drink it straight from the river. There isn’t any stock up here, give or take the odd wild Brumby, so the water isn’t polluted. It’s mostly snow melt, and it’s the best tasting river water in Australia. That afternoon I hooked a small brown on one of my favourite runs. Back in to the water he went, and I smiled like a kid, for at least ten minutes non stop. I was back on the river.

The next two days where magic. We fished long days and had reasonable success. Raynor caught all the big ones for our dinner, while I had a talent for catching all the small fry. But who cares really? It’s the time on the river, catching fish, any fish. That’s the thing that I’ve learnt with fly fishing over the years. It’s about the process and the experience. Honestly I’m not sure why it’s great to be out there, it just is. I don’t even really want to try to figure out why I love it so much, I just want to keep doing it.

In the late afternoons and into evening I’d prepare the meal while Raynor would build his famous fire teepee. We’d watch the amazing storm cloud of summer role in, and just take in the view, of which we could see for miles around us. We ate well and drank whiskey on ice.

There is no phone reception. No amenities. No real comfort. We lay on the ground in swags, looking up at the stars and fall to sleep, to dream of trout on hooks and bottomless glasses of whiskey. Until next time, Eucumbene.

Big Red

Yesterday while watering the veg patch I noticed that my little crop of beetroot had gone from golf ball size to oversized tennis ball size. As I didn’t grow the beets for any sports ball, I decided it was time to pull some out and cook with them.

It’s pretty amazing this process of growing food in your backyard. And it still blows me away how easy the process it. You see, it was sometime late last year that I raked over a modest patch of soil in my garden, and sprinkled some beetroot seeds in. After a few weeks they germinated, they’ve been growing all summer long. Now they’re big, red and beautiful. It’s food man. In my backyard! I can totally dig that (see what I did there?)

The best part about being a grower is that I’m an active protester. This is my voice of protest, it’s active and practical. And whilst I may be sticking my finger up at the the crappy food processing mega system of the western world, I’m also feeding my family in the process. That’s a practical outcome that makes me boogie.

If you can’t grow your own food but want to eat real food like this, then remember that I deliver it to Melbourne. So you too can stick your finger up at the system, and the side benefit is that you’re eating nutritional rich organic produce just grown over an hour of the big smoke.

Order VEG HERE.

Also if you’re on the internet, please show us what your doing with the veg, eggs, meat or my sourdough starter. We love seeing how this real food ends up.

#WLLFOOD

Repeating like a broken record player

Years ago, on a cold winters day, I looked at the tomato I was slicing, and wondered about its origins. Central Highlands winters are remarkably harsh, there is no chance a tomato plant would survive these frigid temperatures. After a little research I found the fruit had either came from a northern grower (QLD) or was sourced from a Victorian hydroponic plantation (artificially fed and heated). It was one of those light bulb moments that set me on a path of asking more questions of my food. In fact, it’s what drove me to start growing much of my own food like a ‘prepper’ gone mad.

 

My summer crop growing in my sunlight heated poly tunnel

Out of interest I asked permission to visit a local hydroponic grower where I got a tour of the enormous hot houses that where as hot as a tropical Queensland day. I was amazed by how warm the industrial sized hot houses where, and enquired if it was a result of the sunlight trapped in the hot house. I was told that it was in fact a large heater that was powered by diesel generators. When I asked how much fuel it used, he replied “don’t ask”. In the hot house, in long tubular rows, grew stunning looking tomatoes, eggplant and basil. In the middle of winter it was a real beautiful site, and the aromatics where mind blowing. Made me desperate for summer.

That farmer was a real nice bloke. Trying to make a living for his family. Providing food for the local community. All those things are admirable and great. The downside of what I witnessed on that day was the reality that the veg was growing in a fertiliser medium (man made and totally inorganic) and the hot house was powered by a carbon emitting generator, adding to our climate woes.

I was intrigued by the paradox of wanting to eat this delicious fresh food, but having an understanding of the underlying reality, that the food may not be that good for my health (grown with a fertiliser solution) and being grown in a carbon emitting hothouse, it was clearly adding to worsening climate health. This experience was just the beginning, from here on in I started asking more questions and researching where my food came from, how it was produced and what was in it. What I learnt was a bit crap.

I know it’s really boring hearing the same old bullshit winging story about how todays food is so crap, and the world is fucked blah blah blah. Don’t you think I know how annoying that is. It keeps me up most nights, thinking about what to do about it. And you know what? My voice is a tiny wave in the ocean. Insignificance personified. It makes no real substantial difference, and in most cases I think I’m preaching to the converted. Even if I did have a loud global voice I wonder what difference it would make. Personal food and lifestyle choices are very personal. Even if one is presented with the scientific facts, one may still choose a Big Mac.

As long as us westerners continue to produce highly processed foods, we will continue to suffer the medical consequences. We will continue to inflict environmental damage.

That is a reality, whether you agree with me or not, whether you hate me or love me, that reality will remain. It’s simply a matter of cause and effect.

In my lifetime I have seen dramatic changes in what we eat, and the subsequent effects it has on our health. I started primary school in 1981, and like many people that I talk to from my generation, I (we) do not recall anyone having any food allergies. There was one kid out of a hundred that was fat (yes no denying it, he was fat) and there was one kid I remember that had an asthma pump. The remainder of my school years was the same, although more kids seemed to suffering from asthma into high school years.

20 years passed with the click of the finger. My generation are now the parents with kids at school, although things are dramatically different than in 1981. My children’s school is strictly nut free, to remain safe for the kids with severe food allergies. In fact some parents have to carry around emergency injections just in case an allergic episode occurs. When I pick my kids up from school it’s hard not to notice the many chubby kids that seem to be paired with obese parents. I’m not being mean. It’s a blatant visual reality. I was, at one time, one of those obese parents too.

What happened? Why are autism rates in children off the charts? Why is it that seemingly every second person suffers from some sort of food intolerance, be it gluten or dairy or something else. Why is that many of my generation suffer from anxiety, depression, hyper tension or diabetes?

I know it’s a pain to hear, but the reality that we’re eating ourselves to poor health is putting pressure on our already struggling health system. The reality of our preference for packaged processed foods is continuing to have a detrimental impact on our natural world. These are things that should concern us. These are things that should make us angry, concerned, and actively participate in making change for ourselves, our families and our natural world.

I feel myself repeating this message like a broken record player.

I fond myself questioning my approach to communicating this message. Am I being to honest? Do people want to hear this reality? Should I just go away and shut up? But I can’t. It’s something that has personally effected me and damn it, I want to see some change in my life time.

How long we as a population will we happily eat food, of which we are blissfully unaware of the impact the ingredients have on our health (and the health of our offspring).

How is this chemically tampered food impacting on our gut flora?

Is it damaging our DNA?

It’s clearly making us unwell in general.

There is an eerie similarity with this health crisis, to the realisation of health implications from smoking cigarettes. But just like that situation, there is a great deal of money to be lost in living healthy. Imagine how much less money would be spent on prescription medication. Imagine how much less money would be spent at supermarkets and take away chains. There is a lot to be lost, economically speaking.

I saw a packed line that overflowed out the door at a Subway Take away in Ballarat the other day. Even though the food isn’t really a perfect healthy option, it’s obvious that many people want a to make a healthy choice. Making the choices that are right for us as individuals can only be brought about with education, sharing knowledge and experience. I hope there is a brighter future.

In the meantime I retreat. I’ll work in my garden growing food as it should be.

Grown in soil, warmed by the sun and fed by natural fertiliser of chicken poo and compost.

 

The fruit that helped change my life, growing like mad in my poly tunnel.

 

 

A good starting point

It sounds a bit corny but I have been on this ‘journey’ for a number of years now. I’m not sure exactly where it started. When I look back, it seems like it was a combination of things that set me on my path. Sure I’d always grown a few vegetables in my backyard, but nothing really substantial. I think I only grew a few plants because the adult version of me was trying to hang on to nostalgic memories of the farm house vegetable garden of my childhood.

Veg and smoked bacon broth

My lifestyle changes really stepped up a notch at a small inner city house that I renovated. It was a tiny backyard, mostly concrete. I hired a jack hammer and went mad. My flabby sick body wobbled as the hammer smashed through the thick concrete. My body was not in good shape, nether was my mind, and my ‘spirit’ or whatever you want to call that inner voice we have, he wasn’t very happy with me either.

I had a goal. For some reason I’d become fixated on converting that little backyard into an urban food bowl. I had romantic visions of walking out my back door, picking tomatoes from the vine and making a delicious breakfast. Which is a reality for me today. My dream has been achieved.

Like I mentioned, I’ve been on a journey. A corny journey. I had no idea where this little urban garden would lead to. I just knew that I wanted to do it. Like most gardens it grew, and not just in physical size. It grew so large that the boundaries of an urban fence could no longer contain it, so it moved inside of me. It’s taken over my way of thinking. It’s taken control of everything I do. It’s made me ask questions. It’s made my view of the world completely different. It’s made me reassess everything I believed in.

No one has all the answers to our world problems. I definitely don’t. I do however know that I am privileged in that I can make a choice of lifestyle that involves growing my food, hunting off the land and harvesting what nature provides. That’s definitely not the answer for everyone, especially city dwellers. What’s needed is a fundamental shift in western consumer habits and a cap on population growth. Two things I fear will never be addressed.

Today the Doomsday clock ticked over to three minutes to midnight. It won’t have any impact though. It will not change any of the decisions our leaders of government and industry will make. The machine of human progress and growth is just far too powerful. It has unstoppable momentum now. I used to think that us end consumers could make the change our world needed, but I feel more and more that the behaviorial shift for an individual is far too confronting and intimidating for many to accept, and therefore they remain intrenched in the conventional system, and the machine continues to churn. Depressing right?

But is there hope? I often speak to people that have become ‘enlightened’. People that have become aware of the impacts of western consumer culture, people that have learnt about the impacts of western food, lifestyle. People that have taken the time to become aware. When I speak to these people, when I share a meal or a conversation with them I feel some little glimmer of hope. The enthusiasm we share with each other is often a recharge we need. It’s draining to see so much around us that we know is not positive, that we know is detrimental for our health as humans and of this earth. We need to support each other, and to continue to share.

A new year has begun, new possibilities will present themselves. I want to share as many meals and conversations with people, to encourage and support, love and nurture.

Today when I sliced through sun warmed tomatoes from my garden, chopped basil and grilled jalapeño then drizzled home made red wine vinegar over it, I stood staring at that bowl of food. If only I could somehow share this with everyone. Share the experience of propagating the seed, raising the plant, watering, feeding then finally harvesting and cooking. Then enjoying all that effort, that sense of accomplishment, and the undeniable nutritional sustenance it provides. Would sharing that experience help open doors for an individual, to make the change our world needs? Is it just a matter of us sitting, eating and sharing conversation the starting point for hope?

We sure need action. We need more people to stop simply talking about it, instead we need to implement the change in our consumer habits. We need to walk the walk.

To share ideas and good conversation over some real food is definetely a good starting point.

I hope this year is a good one.

Peace.

Ro

 

SUMMER VEG – EGGs – PORK – LAMB boxes are back!

Guys, if you live in Melbourne and want to get a big box of organic veg, eggs, and free range pork and lamb you can. This is our third summer season now supplying Melbourne punters with real food and we’re excited the season is back!

So what’s in the box? Well the veg box is full of about 12-15kg of fresh picked organic veg with a little bit of fruit. The types of veg differ as the growing season progress, which will give you a true indication of whats really seasonal. The type of veg does change over the season but normally you will find, zucchini, tomato, cabbage, carrot, potato, corn, kale, chard, onion, lettuce, broccoli, cauliflower, chilli, pumpkin, daikon, parsnip, beetroot, basil. Later in the season some apples, pears, walnuts and chestnuts may appear depending on the harvest.

It’s no bullshit, real food. It’s mostly picked the day before delivery based on your paid order.

It’s a mixed selection of whats come from Rod’s farm.

The Eggs are from Daylesford organics, which we couldn’t get last year which disappointed a lot of people because they loved them. But they’re back!

The meat is from The Farmers Larder also in Daylesford, but this year they’ve got lambs for sale, so you can order either a lamb pack, pork pack or a mixed meat pack.

The system remains the same (see here)

You order and pay by each Thursday 9am cut off. (I will be strict this year ;-)) and we deliver on the Saturday.

We deliver at the times stated on the website, and you arrive between these times, and I’ll then pass you your food.

If you’re new to the system please read over the details for delivery to avoid not arriving and then being disappointed. Remember, if you don’t arrive you loose the box, and the payment, as we pick the veg based on your order. It’s a degradable commodity. Sorry guys.

Hello beautiful

Technically it’s summer, but here on the hill it feels like it’s just become spring. Last night I lit the house fire again, which isn’t unusual for this time of year. It’s the place my ‘almost father in law’ once said, has the worst weather he’s ever experienced. It is pretty challenging weather here, dare I say, at times it’s rather shithouse. But with a little perseverance mixed with patience, I still manage to grow food here.

I watch as online friends munch on early spring broccoli, proudly devour broad beans and peas while I’m still eating eggs and kale (insert teenage style moan “boring”). But I laugh in the face of adversity. Ha Ha Ha. Look, I finally ate my broccoli! Ha Ha Ha (more adversity face laughing). In fact I’ve now been eating it for a week, and it’s bloody delicious. I never used to cook or eat broccoli in my former life. But now, every year, its a late Spring treat that sets the ball rolling for a long period of dining on mostly vegetables.

I watered my garden this morning, the warmth of the sun on my back, the chirp and buzz of busy birds and panicked insects filling the air. The pleasant aroma of basil, and tomato in the humid poly-tunnel and the chooks making their pretty noises scratching for food in the chicken pen. It’s a bid rad.

When I’m watering the plants I look over them and think about which crops will replace the current, and whether I need to plant more of one plant or harvest some of another. There is so much going on in this small space. It all happens independently yet together. It’s a beautiful system. It’s really just a micro version of how nature all over the world works. Living organisms growing, surviving and dying. One of the greatest things about being a dude that grows food, is that I can see this system, thus understand the basics of ecology. The biodiversity is right there in front of you, it’s as obvious as a bee sting.

Like a well oiled machine. The plants, the animals and the innate elements of soil, water and sunlight. It’s not magic, it’s nature. And without we’re buggered. And this is why I give a shit. This is why I left my previous lifestyle. It hasn’t meant leaving society or not contributing, it’s just meant that I’ve become reacquainted with the nature stuff that ultimately keeps us kicking.  

Working with what we have

I love searching through the food stores and finding little gems hidden at the back of shelves, deep in cupboards or stuck at the bottom of the freezer. These little surprises can be the start of a new traditional dish, something that you’ll end up cooking over and over again. Sometimes you’ll find something too cook with, and you honestly have no idea where it came from or what to do with it. I love that situation. It forces me to be creative. That’s one of the joys of cooking from scratch. Don’t you think?

So I found a vacuum sealed bag in the chest freezer labelled ‘stag roll roast’. I remember the day I butchered this deer and I remember being asked by my bagging helper what to write on the bag. I looked at the meat I had just cut and replied ‘roll roast’. I obviously had something in mind at the time, but six months later I’d forgotten those culinary intentions and drew a blank. I stood in the old brick larder holding the ice steaming cut of meat, wondering what the bloody hell was I going to do with it.

Roll roast eh? I guessed some bready filling would be in order. Some herbs. A rich gravy and a side of chips. A nice hearty meal for this cool spring spell we’re having. I made the stuffing with toasted bread crumbs, sage, thyme, butter and sautéed onions and garlic. Slapped the old mixture over the meat, rolled and tied it then gave it roasting gently for a few hours. I cooked even more onions in the juices from the roast to make a rich gravy and served the venison with a side of crispy roast wedges. I’m not sure if it will become a food tradition I’ll make each each year I hunt a deer, but I’ll surely have a nice memory to recall.

 

Has anyone else made a rolled roast from venison?