Stirring a pot of simmering passionfruit butter stirs up memories... I am reminded of poems, preserves, summers past and a robust flowering passionfruit vine that crept vigorously along the fence in my sister's back garden. On summers past... Christmas Day 1984 is a blue-sky scorcher. Gifts have been shared, and we've laughed, cried and eaten as much ham, turkey and potato salad as a belly can bear. There's passionfruit topped pavlova too, but that must wait. Outside in the back corner of the garden there's a surprise that beckons young and old. My sister and her husband reveal their new pool. It has cedar decking, banana lounges and a cabana that was once a cubby house for my nieces and nephew. In the heat of the day, it's cool, wet and inviting. My father, wearing shorts, is already in the water floating on a golden lilo. He is smiling, enjoying precious time spent with his beloved daughters and grandchildren. I see my mother at the door of the cabana, she has stripped down to her undergarments, a white cotton bra and knickers, for her swimsuit is the drawer at home in Malua Bay, 160 kilometres away. The oasis is sheltered from the neighbourhood thanks to a passionfruit vine creeping vigorously along the tall lattice-topped fence, so before long she too is in the water, my toddler son in her watchful arms. I take out my camera and capture the moment. Clouds waft across the vivid sky, the sweltering air fills with peals of joy, and the back lawn is slowly strewn with thongs, wet beach towels and puddles... as this memorable day draws to an end. A robust flowering passionfruit vine crept vigorously along the fence... On poems... It's a week night in 1994 and packed house at the iconic Tilley's Devine Cafe (named after Tilley Devine, Sydney's infamous 1920s Bordello Queen). A whole bunch of writers and interested artsy locals have gathered for an evening of performance poetry celebrating the polonius poets titles. Among those reading are my talented friends Robert Verdon (The Well-Scrubbed Desert) and Dorothy Shaw (1919-2007, Bright Stars and Dark Matter), as well as an 18 year-old named Danielle Stewart, who studied under renowned poet, Geoff Page. Stewart reads from her book i for icarus and the audience is mesmerised. I too love her work and am in awe at the maturity in her words. Her insightful piece titled Passion Fruit moves me: small bombs skin Afterwards, I line up with others to congratulate her and buy a copy of her book. She inscribes it: 'Dear Liz, thanks for coming! Yours sincerely, Danielle Stewart'. Years later, I continued to reach for that book, still enjoying her poems, and wondering whatever became of her. Only recently I read in a newspaper article that life was never particularly kind to Danielle, she had suffered abuse and years of intense turbulence. Tragically, aged 27, she stabbed her husband to death but has no recollection of doing it. She is now 37, has 'done her time' in prison, and returned to university to finish a degree. I remain in awe. On preserves... In the early 2000s, Mum's Mess was one of my favourite stores at the produce markets I managed and Janet, the owner, one of my favourite store holders. She was a no nonsense, down to earth lady, with a quick mind and cheeky sense of humour that matched my own. Over time, the former school teacher and fellow cook became a friend and confidante. Our conversations would always venture to family and life and recipes. Artisan jams, sauces and preserves were Janet's specialty and she had access to all of the market fresh fruit and vegetables from the greengrocers around the corner. Her tiny shop comprised wall to wall shelves filled with jars and bottles, all in neat rows. When cumquats were in season, with a wink and nod she would insist that I take a small bottle of leftover brandied cumquat infusion. Her special gift to me. 'Enjoy it', she would chuckle. It was almost like nectar with just a hint of citrus. A real treat! Another of her specialties was Passionfruit Butter... rich, smooth and exquisite. Not too tart, not too sweet. Here and there I would indulge in a jar of it, that is until my gallbladder told me to abstain. When her elderly mother fell ill, Janet sold her shop. Someone pleasant enough bought the business, but it wasn't to be the same. Janet would always be missed. For a time, I saw her at the Old Bus Depot Markets, but then she faded away. Nowadays whenever I make brandied cumquats and passionfruit butter, I think fondly of her. PASSIONFRUIT BUTTER * 10 large passionfruit 3 free range eggs 200g vanilla infused caster sugar 30g unsalted cultured butter 4 tablespoons fresh lemon juice Cut the passionfruit in half and scoop out the pulp, seeds and juice into a bowl. In a separate bowl, beat the eggs then transfer the egg mixture to a stainless steel saucepan. Add the passionfruit pulp, seeds and juice, together with the caster sugar, butter and lemon juice. Stir over a medium heat until the mixture begins to boil, then lower heat and simmer gently for around 15 minutes until it thickens sufficiently to coat the back of a wooden spoon. Meanwhile, sterilise a 1/2 litre jar and ladle the hot passionfruit butter into the warm jar. Seal immediately and refrigerate after opening. * My recipe is adapted from one by Maggie Beer in one of my favourite of her books, Maggie's Orchard (1997). Note: look beyond perfection at the produce stall, for the sweetest, best-tasting passionfruit have old, wrinkled skin. Stirring a pot... stirs up memories and I am reminded of summers past...Small bombs, skin bruised like love... Tell me, do you reflect on past events as you cook, dear readers? Does stirring a pot stir memories for you? A reminder about Google Reader... it's winding up, so please head over to Feedly or BlogLovin' and migrate your Google Reader feeds. Or, subscribe to Bizzy Lizzy's Good Things via email and have my delicious updates delivered fresh to your IN box.
Image of passionfruit flower used under Creative Commons. See footer. 29/6/2013 07:47:58 am
What a lovely story Lizzie and some nice memories too. Makes me remember a passionfruit vine I once grew indoors; back many years ago when indoor gardening was considerably more important to me than cooking! I would have never considered using those flowers for cooking, maybe since they were so few and far between? Now I'm intrigued at what it must taste like. How about you come over for tea and bring some with you? :)
Lizzy
29/6/2013 01:02:46 pm
Hello there Barbara, thank you very much for your kind words. Wow, an indoor passionfruit vine?! Amazing. I am not sure that you can eat the flowers. But the fruit is divine, as I'm sure you know. 29/6/2013 12:31:03 pm
Poor Danielle, poor husband - how tragic. I'm glad it's behind her (if something like that is ever possible). Loved the poem.
Lizzy
29/6/2013 01:03:49 pm
Hi Maureen, tragic indeed. Glad you liked the poem, I always have too. Oh, so you grow passionfruit and have all that other good stuff happening in your kitchen too! I cannot wait to come and visit you. ; ) 29/6/2013 12:54:18 pm
Terrific post - some excellent writing. When we lived in Florida we had a butterfly garden, and we always grew passionflowers - they attracted a couple of different butterflies. Gorgeous plant! Never got any fruit from them, alas, and the fruit isn't all that common in most of the US (Hawaii is an exception). Anyway, good read - thanks.
Lizzy
29/6/2013 01:05:24 pm
Oh John, I love the sound of your butterfly garden... am intrigued and would love to know more! Passionfruit flowers are so pretty, aren't they! I wonder why the fruit isn't so common in the US? Thank you for your very kind words, John. 29/6/2013 02:32:35 pm
OMG - how gorgeous... One passion fruit on the Canadian Prairies costs 5 dollars and is usually way over ripe... I have never seen a purple one like this, only the yellow ones. I bought and tasted my first "homemade" passion fruit butter in Honolulu at the Farmer's Market in January. I bought 8 jars... they were 8 dollars each and 125ml each... but still so much cheaper than at home. So delicious my toes tingled. They had taken out the seeds. I love that you left yours in. Beautiful. I may have to do something completely naughty if I ever see these ones on sale here.... and buy a non-local passion fruit and make batch of this heady delicacy. I can only imagine the perfume in the air. I mixed the ones I bought with heavy cream, whipped in a tart... and, confess, ate one right out of the jar.
Lizzy
29/6/2013 04:36:19 pm
Wow, Valerie, how interesting that you have only seen the yellow ones! And $8.00 a jar for passionfruit butter. Lordy!!! A toe tingler, that's true. Email me your postal address and I will send you some canned passionfruit pulp and seeds!
Lizzy
29/6/2013 10:53:35 pm
Krista, thank you so very much! It is good to reflect on better, happier times, isn't it. I'm sorry to hear that things are sad for you at present. I am sending you warm hugs and hoping that this storm passes for you. 30/6/2013 09:05:14 am
Fascinating, varied, engulfing post. The reminiscing feels so current to you; so vivid. The poem. Just wow. The epilogue....poor guy indeed. And the recipe? Ahhh. Well-lush. I have a tried and true recipe that is very similar, and sits atop a lime and green tea polenta cake, but with none of the back story or romance. Thanks for sharing Miss Liz
Lizzy
30/6/2013 09:35:46 am
Kellie, thanks so very much indeed. I am delighted to share my stirring the pot memories.... and am going to look up your recipe for lime and green tea polenta cake. 30/6/2013 01:01:02 pm
just reading your post and seeing those golden bottles of passionfruit butter takes me back to my childhood, growing up in hot western sydney and having a passionfruit vine down the back, and eating them on ice cream, and mum making butter as you have. i am definitely going to try growing a vine of my own once it gets warmer. passionfruits remind me of hot childhood summers. thank you :-)
Lizzy
1/7/2013 12:01:09 pm
Thank you so kindly for taking the time to read and enjoy this post. I'm delighted that it brought back summer memories. xo 1/7/2013 02:24:30 pm
Liz, thanks for reminding me about Janet and her lovely Mum's Mess shop. The passionfruit butter looks so yummy!
Lizzy
18/7/2013 05:34:07 pm
Thanks Christine. Lizzy, fond of this post you've shared, thank you, and especially for Danielle's poem. When you celebrate food like we do, dark and brooding descriptions don't immediately come to mind. But they do in this poem and I will look differently at passionfruit now: "dangerous eggs sometimes". Thank you for your memories. I'm making the passionfruit butter today. Hilary
Lizzy
2/7/2013 10:57:52 pm
Hiya Hil, so very kind of you to pop in and say so.... I'm glad you enjoyed Danielle's poem, it has stayed with me for many, many years. And I'm delighted to have shared my memories.
Lizzy
8/7/2013 11:35:58 am
Good surprise, I hope, Zsuzsa xo Comments are closed.
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Cooking and writing have been a lifelong passion. Join me as I share with you my favourite recipes; postcards and morsels from my travels; conversations with cookery writers and chefs; and news on food, cookbooks and cooking. - Liz Posmyk
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