Catching up #1: Patricia Wells visits Limestone Hills

It’s been a long time between entries: I blame the season, the need to work on the book, the truffle association conference, etc and so on. It’s over a month now since Patricia Wells, the Provence-based American food writer, cookery guru and International Herald Tribune restaurant reviewer visited Limestone Hills. She’d just won a James Beard Award for her Provence Cookbook, and was understandably chuffed.

The sun shone…

She was over here to take some masterclasses at the Savour New Zealand weekend in early May. She expressed an interest (in a radio interview) in finding out about NZ’s truffle business so I was happy to oblige. Patricia was charming and very interested in what we’re up to. I now have an invite to visit her in Provence during the truffle season – one of those offers you can’t refuse. And if you’re interested, her truffle cooking class in January 2006 is US$4,000 for the week (and sold out long ago).

Truffle season starts: first finds in Australia and NZ

The first truffles of the winter season are turning up in New Zealand and Australia, including first production on very young (third year) trees in New South Wales. Tim Terry, one of Tasmania’s pioneer growers and the man who found Australia’s first black truffle in 1999, tells me that the truffle was found under a young Quercus ilex (holly oak). More information here, here and on Tim’s website. Tim’s coming over to give a talk to the NZ Truffle Association conference next weekend (Queen’s Birthday weekend) and will be spending a few nights in Limestone Hills, so I’ll be digging for more info.

Meanwhile, the New Zealand truffle harvest is already underway, with ripe truffles reported from several North Island truffieres. Down here in Canterbury, two truffieres have already made their first finds, but of unripe truffles. May in NZ is equivalent to November “up North”, and in Canterbury we reckon optimum ripeness isn’t achieved before the end of June – which fits in nicely with French tradition. French gourmands will tell you that the best truffles are found after Christmas – which in our case translates to after the shortest day.

So will I find my first truffles at Limestone Hills this year? Still too early to say. I haven’t noticed any sticking out of the ground (which is how the two local finds of unripe truffle were made), and my brulées are not as obvious as last year. A couple of wet months has prompted a fair bit of weed growth, but that doesn’t mean the fungus isn’t alive and well and fruiting happily. My fingers, and several other appendages, are crossed.

Apologia

A short note. An apology for a prolonged absence from the web. I’ve been stuffing transparencies into my new Nikon slide scanner and waiting 15 minutes while the computer transforms them into something I can use in the book. I still need to write about Collapse, by Jared Diamond, the visit to the farm by France-based US food writer and teacher Patricia Wells, the beginnings of the truffle season, and other things. I may manage some soon. With luck.

Buena Aitutaki Social Club

The Cook Islands were wet. We had rain on most days, but only one whole day and a couple of afternoons were completely washed out. We sunbathed during the bright bits and snorkelled in the rain. The latter (the swimming, not the rain), at the tiny atoll of Aitutaki, was outstanding – giant clams, big fish, clear water. There was music too – a fabulous little acoustic band called The Sunrays.

The Sunrays in full flow…

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A brief hiatus

Today was beautiful: the perfect autumn day. Incredible deep blue sky, the poplars turning yellow, and dew on the lawns. The truffiere’s looking good, there are olives in the grove, and tonight’s dinner featured an all-garden ratatouille (yellow courgette, baby aubergine, chilli (two kinds), red tomatoes and green tomatoes, oregano and basil. Served with stuffed marrow – a courgette that got away. We did pizzas in the wood-fired oven on Sunday, and they were rather tasty too. Holidays now. While MIke the editor labours over my turgid prose and a designer friend (Tony Cohen in London) considers typography, I shall whisk my family off to Rarotonga and Aitutaki for 10 days. It’ll rain.

[It did.]

New category for old work

I’ve just created a new category for this blog: Journalism. [NB: from 03/06 the “Articles” category] It’s a repository for the longer bits of writing I’ve had published in recent years, and which I think its worth making available on the net as a resource. The pieces are quite long – several thousand words each – but if you have any interest in some of the things we’re growing at Limestone Hills, climate change, or terroir, they’re worth dipping in to. Because these pieces are not blog items as such, they won’t appear on the front page. Just click on the Journalism link in the sidebar. Eventually I’ll be adding something like Picosearch to the site, which will help in finding things not published on the front page or in the archives.

The book is finished; time to work on the book

Fourteen chapters of The Truffle Book were emailed to my editor, the very excellent NZ literary heavyweight Mike Bradstock, this afternoon. He will no doubt dissect it and tell me that large chunks are tripe and need to be re-written, and I will meekly do as he says. Well, perhaps not meekly.

For a few weeks I shall cease to be a writer. My magical transformation into designer, scanner operator and production manager is about to begin – but a little later than I had envisaged. My scanner of choice, the Nikon LS 5000, is out of stock in NZ, and I won’t get one until the end of April. Irritating, but unavoidable, and not disastrous, given that two weeks in April are being given up to holidays: the Cook Islands. In the meantime there’s the NZ Truffle Association conference to get organised, and a book to design.

A deep sigh of relief has been heaved. Now what shall I write next?

New Zealand fur seals begging for a caption

It’s been raining for two days – not heavily, but enough to get things nice and wet. I doubt we’ll be irrigating any more this season. But Monday – Easter Monday – was an absolute cracker of a day. We had a couple of people staying in the farm cottage, and we took them up to Kaikoura to go swimming with the dolphins. While they did that, we walked round the point and admired the seals.

Rather begs for a caption, doesn’t it? [EOS 300D with 90-300mm zoom on full extension, roughly equivalent to 480mm on 35mm]

Behind schedule, but on target

The word count for The Truffle Book has been ratcheting up steadily over the last five weeks, and I’m well within sight of my 40,000 word target. Today, however, I took a step backwards. I cut a huge chunk out of one chapter because I’m in severe danger of overshooting that target. I cut 2,500 words, but then wrote 1,000 so the net loss wasn’t too dramatic. It was mainly undigested notes pasted in, so not a great loss.

My style is hardly terse, in fact it’s rather discursive (but not flowery, heaven forbid), so my editor will be able to trim some fat, but if I go too far over the top the page count of the book will go up, costs will rise, and that’ll either put pressure on my margins or the finished price of the paper book. Not a problem for the pdf version, except perhaps for bandwidth issues. Quality words only from here on in.

I’m two weeks over my original schedule for finishing the text, so hitting my early May target for publication is now unlikely, but I don’t care (much). It’s such a relief to be making significant progress, and I have a feeling that some of the stuff is not too bad. Makes me smile, anyway.

I’m beginning to think about pictures and illustrations. I’m planning to buy a 35mm slide scanner to handle all my slides (there are quite a few from all over Europe and NZ, and buying a scanner is near enough the same price as having the scans done professionally), but I still need to source others. Another bridge to cross (in due course).

My rights are better than your rights

A river runs through our farm: in fact it is half of our boundary line. In some places, our boundary is in the middle of the river, in others there’s some Crown (government) land, and in still others it’s not entirely clear who owns what. The Waipara River defines our property. We look down on it from our clifftop, swim in its deep pools, fish in the holes (brown trout up to 2.5kg – old, wily fish that challenge the fly fisherman), walk up the river bed through the gorge enjoying the geological time machine it reveals, and watch the birds that make it their home.

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