Cradock - Lemons are as much a part of the Karoo as afdakkies and roses. They punctuate every garden with their plump round yellowness, and they offer the imaginative cook more opportunities for flavour than almost any other ingredient, whether herb or spice.
The rose, by contrast, is a more decorative affair, but it can be used in cooking. A sprinkling of rose water over a lovingly prepared breyani (biryani, my Durban friends will correct me – same diffs, hey, and I’m from the Cape, where we say breyani) – makes a meal that is already a masterpiece even more alluring.
There’s no more beautiful flower than a rose, for my money, although a vivid blue cornflower comes a close second. My mother had cornflower-blue eyes and I have always loved these tiny floral wonders that offer a shade most graphic designers would kill for. Yet nature gives it to use for free.
I have not (yet) made a cornflower iced tea, but I might try it one of these days, given that cornflowers are among the many edible flowers. But I am making iced tea from rose petals at the moment, using the blooms from our Cradock restaurant garden. In the intense December heat of this Karoo town, where thundershowers – and, yesterday, a mighty hailstorm – break the mugginess the way a glass of chilled home-made lemonade quenches a wild thirst, thoughts turn quickly to things iced and refreshing.
There were so many things to think about in the preparations to move here that we didn’t give a thought to the weather. We’d only ever been here in winter. The summer heat, the frequently gathering stormclouds and the lovely, fragrant afterglow once the rains have receded have been a delicious surprise. There’s little more exhilarating than a thundering, light-flashing electrical storm.
In my kitchen, I have taken to making iced teas and home-made lemonade. There is a large glass jug of each in the fridge at any given time, and there will be throughout the summer, with temperatures, we’re told, set to climb into the lower forties in February.
Lemons are still hanging from the higher branches of the three lemon trees in our garden. These aren’t like modest Cape Town lemon trees. City Bowl lemon trees hang out at cool cafes, drinking skinny lattes and wearing checked shorts and ironic beards. Karoo lemon trees hang out at the farmer’s co-op, wear green-and-blue checked shirts and drive bakkies with “I like my steaks well hung” emblazoned on the rear.
The biggest of the three trees towers above the house, its remaining bounty so high that you’d need a builder’s ladder to reach the highest fruit. So we just wait for them to fall, and make the best of them.
It’s not just the fruit of the lemon tree that is such a key part of a chef’s arsenal. The leaves can be used in almost any stew, adding a hint of tangy citrus flavour that will be hard to pinpoint but undoubtedly will have added to the flavour and fragrance.
All this from a fruit which, eaten raw, is tongue-curlingly bitter and acidic. It’s when you combine the juice with other ingredients that its charms become evident.
Not least, sugar. Take lemon and add honey, and you have the base of a marinade for chicken or pork. But for a large jug of home-made lemonade, it’s sugar and water you need. It’s so easy to make you’ll chide yourself for not having made it a staple of your fridge and kitchen every summer, and you’ll want to have a jug of it in the fridge from now until March.
As for roses, use them to make iced tea. I make mine with Earl Grey, but you could use rooibos if you like. I wouldn’t choose Ceylon, which if too strong can be bitter and fight with the gentle fragrance of the rose petals.
l To make rose and vanilla iced tea, infuse 1 Earl Grey teabag in boiled water with the seeds scraped from a vanilla pod and 8 to 10 rose petals. Steep for five minutes, then strain into a jug. Add 1 cup castor sugar and stir vigorously until all the sugar is dissolved. Fill up with cold water, add ice cubes and a handful of rose petals, and refrigerate.
l For home-made lemonade, dissolve 1 cup castor sugar in boiled water and stir vigorously. Add 1 cup lemon juice, 2 Tbs lemon syrup, and pour into a large jug. Fill up with cold water. Add a large sprig of lemon leaves (washed under cold running water, especially the undersides of the leaves) and 1 lemon, sliced. Refrigerate.
On a hot Karoo day, pour a large glass of either, pull up a chair, and embark on a vigorous bout of stoep-sitting.
Weekend Argus