I love my newsletter subscribers. Most bloggers do.
These are the folks who love your blog and want to connect with you. They trust you to send useful emails and newsletters they really want to read.
Blogging can be hard. Even though you love writing, you’ve no idea who’s out there reading your words. It’s like chasing shadows.
But when people sign up for your newsletter, suddenly they become real. Now, you’re no longer writing to a faceless crowd. Your people have names and you write your words to them. It gives a whole new impetus and meaning to your blog.
That’s why I love my list.
Privacy Laws
There are all sorts of rules around internet security and privacy these days. Governments are beginning to wake up to the issue of invasion of privacy and they are taking it very, very seriously.
The EU has adopted strict measures around what online businesses can and cannot do with their subscribers’ information, and that includes bloggers, of course. It’s called GDPR and is the reason you’re now seeing all those annoying “This Website Uses Cookies” pop-ups.
It doesn’t even matter if you don’t live in Europe. If your readers live there, you have to abide by the GDPR rules. (Sadly, I will have to have one of those cookie pop-ups sooner or later.)
Anyway, it’s only a matter of time before similar laws arrive in New Zealand. This is absolutely right and proper. I personally would not want to do anything to jeopardize your privacy.
BUT FOLKS, NOW I HAVE A BIG PROBLEM. Because of GDPR laws I must have a double opt-in on my newsletter.
This means you need to CONFIRM that you want to hear from me again in the CONFIRMATION EMAIL that pops straight into your inbox.
Newsletter Subscribers
Right now, I have people sitting in my list who have replied to my newsletter subscription popup… BUT THEY HAVEN’T CLICKED THAT CONFIRMATION EMAIL.
Maybe they changed their minds, and that’s okay. That’s partly what the confirmation is designed for. To allow a change of heart. But, it’s also designed to confirm that you positively want to hear from me again.
Maybe those readers just forgot? Or put it in the “I must do that” basket?
Or perhaps they just didn’t see the email. It might have gone into their junk mail. 😢I DON’T KNOW.
And, sadly, I am legally not allowed to contact them. If you don’t confirm your subscription, you won’t hear from me again.
I’m so sad to have missed you.
So please, please, remember to confirm your subscription if you want to join a newsletter or any other group which has a double opt-in.
Please don’t think I ignored you. Please don’t think I didn’t want to hear from you.
And if you have by a wonderful chance, come back to my website please push that subscribe button again.
While my farming men are busy bringing in the grain, my own focus is on the bounty given to me by nature and the foresight of our pioneer ancestors.
This week the pears are ready to pick and preserve.
Bounty from the past.
When pioneering families settled their farms here in Garston 120 years ago, the land was devoid of trees. Grass, tussock and rocks were the main features of the narrow, river valley they would come to call home. Mountains lining both sides of the valley kept it freezing in winter and scorching in summer. Food was scarce and largely home-grown. The top priority was establishing a large vegetable garden beside a small, rough farmhouse. And next on the list was always planting the orchard.
For many years orchards, both small and large, were lovingly tended up and down the valley, but with the advent of sealed roads, speedy cars and modern supermarkets, the orchards have become overgrown and neglected in modern times. All the same, the sturdiest trees persist and each autumn they dot the valley with fragrant fruit for us to pick and be thankful for.
Harvest in the present.
So it is, that this week I’m harvesting the pears. It’s not as easy as you might think.
Sometimes the season is poor and there is scarcely a fruit to be seen, but this year there’s an abundance of pears on every tree. There are also birds, who can savour the best fruit on the highest branches which are impossible for me to reach. Not content with their share, however, they like to invade my territory on the branches below as well. They don’t eat the whole fruit: oh no! They would rather sample, leave a small hole, and move on to try the pear next door as well.
And then, we have the wind. Autumn can be a windy season around here, and this year is no exception. Many of the pears end up on the ground before they are ripe. These windfalls are often the ones I collect. They are easy to reach, and being still quite firm, have not taken any harm from their fall. However, danger lurks below. There’s a wasp nest somewhere around the orchard and the wasps begin feasting long before I arrive. They go for the half-rotten fruit, preferably already holed by the birds. So I tread very carefully under the trees, and restrict my haul to the unripe pears, preferably well away from the busy wasps.
The windfall pears are poles apart from Emerson’s perfect 10 minutes, and unfortunately, they are most unlikely to reach that happy state. For years, no matter how carefully I stored them or what ripening tricks I tried, many pears ended up going bad before they’re ripe enough to eat.
But I’m ever hopeful and this year I’m trying a new trick. I read some helpful pear hints in “This NZ Life” and they shed some light on my past pear problems.
Apparently, pears ripen from the inside out, so that even if a pear feels rock hard on the outside it may well be ripening on the inside. So the best thing to do is to chill the pears as soon as you pick them, then bring out a few to finish ripening as you need them.
Apparently bananas and apples emit ethylene which will help to ripen, or at least soften the fruit.
Pears are a-cooking for the future.
Fortunately, if these new ripening ideas still don’t work, cooking will save the day. Poaching the pears in a sweet and delicious liquid will add flavour and soften the unripe fruit. I don’t have the time, skills (or quite frankly the inclination) to spend hours this week preserving multiple jars of fruit. I’ve tried it before and failed miserably every time. So now I pick a little every day, and while the evening meal is cooking it’s often joined by a pot of pears bubbling gently on the stove. To preserve them, I’ll simply portion the cold pears into containers with the syrup and freeze.
Soft pears are cooked in a matter of minutes. I don’t trust these to the cooktop: they go into the microwave, with a little maple syrup, a knob of butter, cinnamon, vanilla essence and lemon juice for just a few minutes. They form their own delicious juice and taste exquisite. I’ve just finished cooking up the latest batch that did manage to ripen successfully. I can’t wait to serve them up for dessert tonight.
But most pears will not be so ripe, so here’s how I’ll treat the main crop of windfall pears.
Pears in their sweet poaching liquid.
Simple Sweet’n’Spicy Poached Pears
8-12 firm pears4-5 tbsp brown sugar or coconut sugar
1-2 tsp ground cinnamon1 lemon
WaterRaisins or sultanas (optional)
What to do:
Cut the pears into quarters, discarding core and stem. There is no need to peel.
Put them into a deep saucepan on the stove (cooktop).
Finely grate the lemon rind.
Juice the lemon. (Use a lemon juicer to get as much as possible.)
Add these to the pot.
Sprinkle sugar and cinnamon into the pot and add water until the pears are almost covered.
Cover and bring to the boil.
Simmer gently until the pears are soft but not falling apart. This could take 20 – 30 minutes, or even longer depending on the size of the pieces and the temperature of the cooking liquid. Slow is best.
Once cooked, add a handful of raisins or sultanas if desired. Leave everything to cool in the pot. The pears will increase in sweetness and the dried fruit will plump up and add more flavour.
To serve:
I love these pears with maple-walnut ice cream. The walnut flavour goes so well with pears, but really any ice cream would be nice. Sometimes I add an extra topping of chopped, toasted walnuts. Cover the pears and ice cream with spoonfuls of the hot cooking syrup.
To download this recipe as a PDF click the link below.
There’s something deeply satisfying about eating food you’ve gathered and cooked yourself. It hearkens back to our hunter-gatherer roots perhaps? Or maybe nostalgically to what we think of as a simpler time.
Your Turn To Talk
Are you a forager who enjoys finding food in the wild?
Or are you, like me, lucky enough to have an orchard nearby, or random trees growing in the backyard?
Maybe you have hints or recipes to share.
Let’s start a fruitful conversation in the comments.