And just like that

A reluctant welcome to autumn

I didn’t expect it to feel like autumn this morning. I want those warm, late summer days to linger a little longer. But the day is cool, the skies are grey and there’s mizzle on the hills beyond the river. A pile of brown paper bags came in the mail this week, filled with ranunculus and tulips bulbs, reminding me it’s time to get ready for spring.

March and early April are always the very best months, weatherise, in Tasmania. Generally warm sunny days with clear blue skies, that we pray will continue well April (so the tomatoes can ripen). The nights are cooler, the annoying *blowflies have disappeared and the garden is still thriving, if starting to look a little tired around the edges. There’s still dahlias and zucchinis and tomatoes to pick. And further afield, blackberries and rosehips to forage. Sloes if you’re lucky. But as the poplar trees planted along the river start to turn golden, seems there’s nothing to it but to embrace the autumn rituals of that mark the change of season. Sweep out the fire place, drag out my favourite woolly cardigan, throw an extra blanket on the bed, make an apple tart.

I’ve ordered a box of heritage apples Calville Blancs, a very old apple from Normandy France from the early 1600s.  Prized in the kitchen for making 'tartes aux pommes' as it holds its shape when cooked. Under its pretty russeted skin, it has a delicious aromatic flesh that is also wonderful eaten fresh and excellent for making cider. Quite the allrounder.

In the garden, the sweat peas, dahlias and cosmos are still doing their things. I sowed several seeds of a multistem sunflower, but only one really took off. It’s like a giant vase of sunflowers in the garden. It’s the absolute star of the garden right now bringing such joy not only to me but the pollinators and is always covered in honey and bumble bees. The temptation to pick them for a vase inside, or deadhead the spent ones is great, but I keen to save the seeds for next year, so I will to let it do its thing, and keep my secateurs away.

Although I’m sorry to say goodbye to summer, I am excited by the autumn garden chores, to start clearing out this years annuals and planning next summer’s garden.

This summer’s garden (version 01) in the newly landscaped space was rushed and represents the efforts of a delirious woman who, for too long without a patch of soil, tried to stuff as many plants as possible into a small space. And I’m not sad about it. It’s been a triumph. I can see what works and what hasn’t, things I can leave and things I can rip out. Roses need more sun, dahlia tubers need dividing and giving away, and I might just get rid of the jostaberry and pale pink pelargoniums entirely, planted by the previous owner along the fence, as they takes up far too much real estate for not much reward.

I’ll be rethinking, replanting, and adding loads of compost and attempting to improve the all round soil fertility. And nothing says autumn more than planting the above mentioned bulbs, in a pot, a la Arthur Parkinson, for a spring show that I’ve never been organised enough to accomplish before. It’s generally in spring when I’m reminded about bulbs when they are appear and by then it’s far too late. This spring, I’m going to nail it.

Planning for spring gardens and eating apple tart, wearing favourite cardigan, okay autumn, let’s make the most of it.

French Apple Tart

In the best French tradition with a Tasmanian twist, thinly sliced crisp apples baked on a puff pastry round with a Tasmanian hazelnut, local honey and thyme frangipane. Feel free to make your own puff pastry, but I think making a frangipane and painstakingly arranging apple slices is quite accomplished enough thank you.

375 g puff pastry, thawed

5 tart apples, very thinly sliced crossway

Juice of 1/2 lemon

50g caster sugar

50g butter, melted

Hazelnut Frangipane

60g butter

50g sugar

25g Tasmanian honey

1 egg

50g toasted hazelnuts

5 sprigs of thyme, leaves removed and chopped

To make the frangipane, cream the butter and sugar in a food processor. Add honey, eggs, hazelnuts and thyme and process to a paste. Set aside.

Preheat oven to 220C.  Cut a 24cm diameter circle from the piece of puff pastry (I love Careme, it’s the perfect size and super delicious) . Place this onto a lined flat baking tray and place into the fridge to rest while you prep the apples.

Peel and core the apples and slice into 2mm thick slices.  Toss them in lemon juice to stop them from discolouring.

Remove the pastry from the fridge and using a fork, prick the pastry all over leaving a 1cm rim around the edge. Spread the frangipine on the pastry leaving a 5cm edge.

Drain the apples of the lemon juice, and arrange on top of the hazelnuts, leaving a 1cm space between the edge and the apples, start from the outside over lapping each apple slice by at least 2/3, working your way around the pastry into the centre. The edge between the pastry and the apples will allow the puff pastry to rise around the edge forming a wall. 

Brush with melted butter and sprinkle with castor sugar.  Bake in oven until golden. About 40 minutes or until the puff pastry is golden and the apples are starting to colour. I like them quite dark around the edges for that French patisserie look.

*as I write this, an annoying blowfly has appeared and now buzzes around the room thudding at the window. I spoke too soon.