PEPONI HOME, THE LAST STANDING TREASURES or 21st to 27th April 2014 – 365 DAYS OF PHOTOGRAPHY

19 October 2014

I went to say “goodbye” to a favourite shop of mine, Peponi Home, the only place in my neighbourhood where I felt really in my element.  They were moving to bigger premises and busier parts of Sydney.
Here are few shots from the shop’s window and shelf displays before it all went for clearance sale.

21st April 2014


22nd April 2014


23rd April 2014


24th April 2014


25th April 2014


26th April 2014


27th April 2014

Until my next post!
Ciao,
Sophia

© 2014 - sophia terra~ziva.  all rights reserved

AQUARIUM BACKYARD, PEPONI HOME, ONE FLEW OVER CUCKOO'S NEST or 14th to 20th April 2014 – 365 DAYS OF PHOTOGRAPHY

18 October 2014

I have a lot to apologise for - I missed to update my daily photography adventures and only "dropped" now and then some of the photos on my blog's Facebook page.

Call it lazy nature of absent-minded artist, call it skipping memory, but now it is coming to bite me on my but and I can see an avalanche of photos waiting to be posted.

Well there is always a good news - you will have a feast of visual tales to feed on.

Please sit comfortable, get a coffee and box of chocolates and lets begin with the catching up!

14th April 2014


15th April 2014


16th April 2014


17th April 2014


18th April 2014


19th April 2014


20th April 2014


Until my next post!
Ciao,
Sophia

© 2014 - sophia terra~ziva.  all rights reserved

(OUR) MY DAILY BREAD

24 September 2014

 An off-centre essay, dedicated to all passionate artisan bread bakers, and especially to Zoë François
and William Wood two inspirational pastry chefs I’ve met and who made me fall in love with bread.

I have felt bread dough in my hands for many years and loaf after loaf I couldn’t stop thinking how much the art of bread is like the art of love.
Bread baking is a wealth of passion and patience.  There are moments when waiting is vital; there are moments when every rushing second counts.
Lovemaking feeds on passion and succeeds on patience and experience.  There are times when waiting gets you further; there are times when you can't catch fast enough the flash...


A good bread baker knows that the secret of success is not a secret recipe.  The secret is  honesty.  Use only honest ingredients and learn to feel the bread - it is alive.  It feeds on love.  It reacts to weather change.  It is moody.  It is snappy and it can spoil when you haven’t been paying attention.
Bread dough is like a woman that knows what she wants and a good baker is like an attentive lover – he can tell how to satiate and indulge her...


Good bread bakers know that bread shouldn’t be rushed and the slower it raises, the better taste and texture develops.
A caring tender lover is not afraid to take his time, for he knows that he will harvest the rewards of sensual devotion…
With time bread proves and develops its flavour.
With time a relationship ripens and matures.
Just like baking bread, love is like a preheated steamed oven and sooner or later we all get burnt.



And if you still haven’t put your hands into wet and sticky dough and shaped a bread, or never jumped into a deep love, here are the basic ingredients -

MY DAILY BREAD RECIPE:
Organic Baker’s Flour
Natural Sea Salt
Spring Water
Starter (Mother, Bigga, Poolish) or Yeast
Love
Passion
Patience





Ilva and Simi have joined me in my bread journey.  Please pay them a visit and break a bread with us.

Thank you for visiting!
Ciao,
Sophia


© 2014 - sophia terra~ziva all rights reserved

THE CHICKEN THAT CROSSED THE ROAD or INDIANA JONES FROM KINGSWOOD

20 September 2014

It's Friday morning, just driving away from the house to join the traffic flow of parents dropping off their kids to school.  I had my girls dressed up and beautiful as bonbons - Apollonia has a performance at school and Amadea is pretty in pink for her school photo.
As we were passing the safety bank, Apollonia looked across the road and exclaimed: "Mamma, our chicken is in front of this house!"
"What our chicken?  What front?  Which house?"...  I was throwing questions at her trying at the same time to keep my eyes on the road.  "Look, our chicken is eating grass in front of this house" and she showed the house we were passing by.
Well, well, well!
I'll be damned!
It is really our chicken!
Really! - in front of the house across the road picking the grass next to the fence...
I didn't count the chickens this morning to check if all 9 were there and look at her - took off for a walk.
Why would our chicken cross the road?!...
Couldn't get in deep thinking, the road was busy and we were running late.
As I dropped my oldest daughter to school and about to take the little one to preschool, I really became anxious and curious about THAT chicken.  I made an U-turn and went strait to the house where we saw it last.
There it was, picking something in the grass with not a worry in the world and the busy traffic passing it by.  I parked the car in the driveway and jumped with a big spring in my steps calling the "lost soul" to mamma.  She didn't want to have any of me unless I was coming in peace with hands full of food.  Oh - food!  Say so.  I took the little packet of crisp bread from my younger daughter's lunch box.
"Here, chick-chick-chick-CHICKIES!"
"Here, piew-piew-piew-PIEW!", I started to give her crumbs crisp bread to allure her close enough to catch her.
Darn chicken!  Runs around like a dart and I am becoming more and more dangerous for the passing by morning traffic.  I could feel with the corner of my eye how the cars are slowing and hear few hoots and whoops while running with hands thrown in the air to catch this little bugger.  "Go Indiana Jones", shouted somebody through their car window.  While some other smarty pants was cheering:  "Go Team Chicken!"
Hm!  Sweat, blushing and annoyance were spreading across my face like a rainbow.  "People are having fun", I was mumbling.  "What's next?  An YouTube accidental sensation?"  You want an Indiana Jones, I'll give you an Indiana Jones!
I took my jumper and start flapping it in front the chicken like a matador till I throw it over it and blanketed it completely.  Gotcha!  Phew what a sweat and running!  Now what?  I had no idea how to drive the chicken home since we were on the opposite side of a very busy road.  I scratched my head for few seconds and then just pushed the chicken in my big grocery bag full of beetroot, carrots, leek and parsnip.  She just looked around and started picking the carrot leaves, feeling very much at home amongst the veggies.


As I got home, I saw 9 young hens running towards me and greeting me with loud chick-chick-chick.  Wait a second - 9?  So who is in my grocery bag?  I've stolen a chicken?  All this circus to catch somebody else's chicken?


So what am I - the Indiana Jones from Kingwood or The Chicken Thief?!...

Always count your chickens.  And stop, look, listen and think before crossing a road.
Ciao,
Sophia



© 2014 - sophia terra~ziva all rights reserved

"PRINCESS" TOAST or BRUSCHETTA "PRINCIPESSA" FOR KIDS AND GROWN UPS (B. Y. O.)

9 September 2014

If you've ever spent your summer holiday in Bulgarian seaside, you inevitably have had the opportunity to hear about, smell and even try this delicious snack prepared typically on char grill.  It is a fast meal for children that parents have it ready before the barbeque party gets seriously busy with chatting, drinks and food.
It is a recycled food at its best and finest - about a handful of leftover mince for the kebapche skinless sausage for the barbecue later, old stale bread, herbs and spices, egg and that's about it!  As mamma use to say "with a handful of leftover mince and loaf of old bread we can feed an army"...



It is meant to be a children's snack to keep them happy and full while the grown ups are enjoying slowly their drink, mezze, yarn and slow cooking of the fresh summer meal on char barbie.  The truth is that every one loves them and there is always enough for young and old.



It was one of the first things I prepared for my mother-in-law long time ago, when we invited her to our new place.  However, she wouldn't wait for the meal to be ready.  She wanted to eat right then!  I made "Princess" toasts within minutes and slapped them on the barbecue...  But the trouble was far from over.  Being an Italiana, she wouldn't eat nothing that she is not familiar with or at least doesn't sound Italian.  So I was sweating a rain of sweat and worries over the hot barbecue plate and scratching my brain what to tell her.  I brought her on a plate the piping hot "Princess" toasts and told her: "Here you are, mum, this is bruschetta "Principessa".  It is Italian", I reassured her.  "Really?  Never heard of it!", she cut me and I had to think very fast on my feet.  "Oh yeah, it is from South of La Bulgara, far from Venezia."  She ate it, kissed her fingers and said "Brava!" and added "never been to La Bulgara, but we were very poor then to travel" and that's how the bruschetta "Principessa" was born.



Call it whatever you choose, but don't miss the chance to try it next time you get the barbeque going.  They are really delicious and clever meal for settling hungry little tummies or enjoy them with a glass of wine in a good company of dear friends.



SOPHIA'S "PRINCESS" TOAST
INGREDIENTS:
Stale bread slices
1/2 kilo veal and pork mince (or meat of your choice)
1 egg
Green onions finely sliced
Continental parsley finely chopped
Salt
Savory (optional but highly recommended)
Ground white pepper
Cracked pink peppercorns

METHOD:
Mix the ingredients and let them stand to marinate for an hour or two if possible .  Spread a thin layer (about 5mm) on the bread slices pressing the mince mixture.  Place the slices mince down on well preheated barbeque grill grate and let it cook on low heat for about a minute or two till charred lines are formed and the meat doesn't appear raw.  Turn on the other side of the bread and slightly toast the bread till crisp and crusty.  Serve with yogurt drink if offered to children or with a nice glass of red wine if for grown ups.





Thank you for visiting!
Ciao,
Sophia


© 2014 - sophia terra~ziva all rights reserved

LUCKY, LUCKY, LUCKY...

9 September 2014

"You know sweetheart", said my husband walking through the door, "I am one very lucky man"!
"I know", I was too busy in the kitchen to get in deep conversation - "You've got me!"
"No, no", he insisted it wasn't me.  "I found a bunch of four-leaf clover, and five-leaf too!"  And he gave me a bouquet of four and five leafed clovers!
Well, that's what I call a special bouquet from the heart!  I think we are both lucky...






Be lucky and stay happy!
Ciao,
Sophia


© 2014 - sophia terra~ziva all rights reserved

RICE PUDDING or WHO GETS THE CROWN

18 August 2014

Rice pudding...
Or we might as well call it The Apple Of Discord in my family.  You see, everybody – could that be my Grandmother, could that be Mamma or even mum’s sister, Aunty Olga – they all thought they were holding the crown of the rice pudding.
Grandma would make it when she knew Dad is visiting her, for she thought she spoilt her boy with his favourite dish.  My Dad was always gladly accepting an offer for a rice pudding after lunch at Grandma’s, but the moment he sees her back he will whisper “your mum cooks it better”.
Mamma wasn’t officially in the race for rice pudding title, but off the record she was quietly puffing up with importance when Dad says something like that.
On the other side of the family tree was perched Aunty Olga.  She was right there between the branches of “cook as my mother taught me” and “anything you can do, I can do better”.  But to tell you the truth she was right – she could do anything better.  And she knew it!  She was so devoted to please and offer the best for her family (to put the best shirt on our back or to plate the best meal on our table), that she would not blink a wink when her youngest grandson starts jumping in his cot at 11pm with screams “I want rice pudding!”...



I tried them all – Grandma’s rice pudding, Mamma’s, Aunty’s, even the one my Great-Aunt from Greece made for us when we went to visit her...  And I made lots too.  Mamma always was drumming on my head to be careful and put the rice in the last 15 minute or it will get mushy.  I was not allowed to put in the sugar unless it is all cooked, or it’ll stop the cooking of the rice.  There were special and strict rules of engagement.
As time passed and I got older and many meals went down my throat and I whisked many more meals, I started to build some sense of the harmony of each ingredient.  They were having a special place in the music notebook of gastronomy.  If I could really learn to read this music, I would know how to make my own melody...
So I thought to myself, Mamma says rice cooks slow when mixed with sugar in the milk.  And I wanted thicker milk without adding cream, eggs or starch.  I was scratching my head how to get the milk condensed while preserving the shape and texture of the rice?  Add the sugar first!  That is what I did.  I added the sugar with the milk and vanilla paste, and gently scented with discrete citrus zest of a few lemon and orange peels.  Rice was happily cooking for more than an hour in the milk mixture and its texture was still intact and very much al dente.
This is my new song of rice pudding that I’ve written from the old music notebooks of the women in my family.  It is polyphonic harmony of ageless kitchen wisdom, love and passion to be the best.
And you know what, I love Grandma, Mamma, Aunty and all dear women I held by their skirts, but today I think I get the crown of the Rice Pudding Queen!
My friends Ilva of Lucullian Delights and Simi of Turmeric n' Spice also joined me on my journey back to the rice pudding of our childhood.
Come to my (kingdom) kitchen and try it.  You’ll love it!




SOPHIA'S RICE PUDDING
INGREDIENTS:
2 litres of milk
1 measure cup of Arborio rice
6-8 table spoons of sugar
1 teaspoon of good quality vanilla paste
4 peels of orange
4 peels of lemon
(makes 8 servings)

METHOD:
Combine in deep heavy-bottomed pot milk, sugar, vanilla paste and citrus peels.  Leave it on stove and bring to the boil.  When it starts to boil, add the rice and immediately turn the heat down to the lowest.  Watch the pot for the first 10 minutes so the milk doesn’t boil over and stir occasionally making sure the milk doesn’t catch on the bottom of the pot.  Ensure you are cooking the pudding on the lowest possible heat of the stove.  Check frequently, but stir gently and cook for over one hour or until you reach the desired thickness.  When ready and thick to your taste, discard the citrus peels.  Pour the rice pudding in serving dishes and refrigerate.
Serve with dust of ground cinnamon.








Thank you for visiting!
Ciao,
Sophia


© 2014 - sophia terra~ziva.  all rights reserved

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