Bean pot

In my previous blog post I recommended the puri, or flat bread, to go along with, inter alia, a stewed dish. After some deliberation, the missus and I decided to make a bean pot, as the weather here in the Cape Town area was blustery and cold. Not a big decision when you have a cosy evening at home with your loved ones to look forward to. 

Sometimes the weather does play along with one's experiments!

This recipe is a variation on the traditional South African mutton or lamb green bean stew (groenboontjiebredie for the Afrikaans readers). This one has some canned beans as well, since fresh beans of other types are not really freely available in this neck of the woods. The stew also contains some tomatoes. I like to put a small amount of tomato in the stew, not only to thicken the sauce, but also to provide some small hint of tanginess. This is enhanced by the addition of a fresh hot chili or two. And there is the odd potato or three, very traditional South African style.

This dish is not really suitable for making on board a small vessel at sea. However, one may substitute the meat with home made meat balls, which will reduce the cooking time substantially. The larger yachts and catamarans may have suitable facilities and may be more stable at sea to allow for the long cooking time and store of ingredients. Some of the fresh ingredients may be substituted with the canned variety, making such a variation also more attainable on a small boat at sea.

This dish goes well with a medium bodied red wine.

Ingredients

600 grams stewing lamb or mutton. I used some rib meat and a leg of lamb chop. This gives a nice balance between the fat from the bony parts and lean meat from the leg chop.
3 medium sized potatoes, chopped into medium size chunks.
handful of fresh green beans, chopped into three pieces.
1 can red kidney beans in water
1 can butter beans in water
2 medium sized onions
2 fresh hot chillis, chopped. I used Cerranos.
½ sweet pepper. I used an orange one for the colour effect.
2 cloves garlic, chopped.
2 medium sized tomatoes, chopped coarsely. Thumb size is OK, the dish may be chunky because the beans are.
1 cube beef stock. I used a little sachet of extract, they are also good.
1 cup mushrooms. Any kind or mixed.
Dollop of soy sauce
Some cooking oil

Process

The sequence of the proceedings is king here. You may not get the flavour or texture if you vary the sequence.
Use a casserole or saucepan, depending on your quantities, with a thick bottom and sides, it allows for better heat distribution. I use a cast iron casserole. The food keeps on cooking for the last fifteen minutes after the heat has been taken away, allowing for better development of the flavour as the pan cools down.
Fry the onions, sweet pepper, garlic and chilli in light oil until the onions go a nice brown colour or just before. Remove them from the frying pan. Now brown the meat in the pan, using the leftover juices from the onions. Don't cover the pan with meat, it will only stew in its own juices and not go brown. Fry a little meat at a time if necessary. And it doesn't hurt if the pan scorch a little, it adds to the flavour in the end. Mind not to burn the meat. Add all the meat back when all the meat is brown, together with the onion mix. Add a dollop of soy sauce and simmer for five minutes to allow the flavour to develop. Add the tomatoes, the stock and some water.
Set the heat to low and allow the dish to simmer until the meat is almost soft. Then add the potatoes and simmer until the potatoes are almost soft. Now add the green beans. Simmer for five minutes, then add the mushrooms. Simmer for five minutes, then add the rest of the beans.
Now switch off the heat and leave the dish to rest for another fifteen minutes. This will allow the flavour to develop.
Serve with a flat bread like roti or puri, or with brown and wild rice. The coarse rice makes a good accompaniment to the dish. I had this with the whole wheat puri described in my previous blog post.
Bon appetit!
This post also linked to Yeastspotting!

Authored by Johan Zietsman
Last updated on 2012-12-12  

Sourdough bread # 2: Puri And Cooking On A Small Boat

I recently had a long conversation with some of my friends in the sailing fraternity. All sea gypsies and sailors of some description. The gist of the discussion was about cooking on board small sailing vessels. Specifically making bread.
Long voyages on small vessels easily become a bit of a survival camp, especially if you don't plan sensibly. The boat does not stand still and you have very few appliances aboard to ease your work in the galley. (For those non-sailing friends out there, the kitchen on board a boat or ship is known as the galley.)
Typically you would have one 25 cm pot, one 15 cm pot, a small kettle and a wok or a frying pan. There would also be a mixing bowl and some cutlery, as well as some kitchen implements. As a result of this dearth of implements, I have gone and bought my very own spatula, kettle, chef's knife, filleting (boning) knife and paring knife. All good quality stuff that does not rust within the first week. I also take along a knife sharpener and a proper potato peeler. I use that one also to peel butternut pumpkins. A wooden spoon, wooden tongs and an Indian rolling stick completes my galley kit.
And I have my own spice box that goes along. No mixed spices in my food if I can help it. You mostly have very little idea of what a proprietary spice mix contains. My masala powders are bought from shops that mix their own spices, so there are no preservatives or other chemical additions. Well, hopefully. And I make my own green masala paste (recipe here).
You may well ask what this has to do with making bread. The answer lies therein to sketch the conditions aboard. Spare a thought for these people that would like to stay alive in some style. Most of us shore bound folk probably don't have a feel for the conditions of cooking at sea while we are standing in our well-equipped kitchens on solid Mother Earth turning out five star dishes.
My sailing friends are gearing up and preparing for the ocean race for the Governor's Cup. The race starts in Simon's Town, False Bay in South Africa and ends at the island of St Helena. All of about ten to twelve days' worth of sailing, just over 1800 nautical miles in all.
So, after our last discussions, I decided to make bread that is suited to these conditions.
Bread can be made in several ways. Firstly, one can use dough that is leavened or not. Then there is the method of cooking or baking. One can bake a bread in the oven, as what is regarded as normal in the western world. This may be in a baking tin or just on a baking sheet. Then there is a whole variety of flat breads to be made in a frying pan. One may use a dry pan, a little bit of oil or fry the bread in deep oil. And lastly, in South Africa, we sometimes make bread by simply putting the lumps of dough on the braai (barbecue or griddle for our foreign friends).
I decided on an Indian style of bread by the name of puri. This one is a leavened bread baked in a frying pan in light oil. You certainly don't want hot oil spattering around on a small boat bucking in the ocean.
I used my latest wild yeast, the story of which is related in an earlier post on this blog. Ingredients are one cup of wild yeast, two cups of white bread flour, one cup of whole wheat brown bread flour, half a cup of rye flour, a pinch of salt and about one cup of tepid water. And about half a cup of white bread flour for the kneading board.
You need a starter, so that's where I used the half cup of rye flour added to the sourdough. This is for increasing the yeast quantity. This was left for eight hours overnight to get really lively. The frothing result was boiling over by the time I got to mixing the main dough. At least something positive there. The rest of the ingredients were added and the dough kneaded until it becomes silky to the touch. I then wetted my hands with some cooking oil and patted the dough ball to cover it completely on the outside. This dough ball was then put away in the plastic mixing container with a lid on. Between the oil and the lid the dough does not dry out.
After seven hours the dough had risen to more than double the volume and I kneaded it back to the original volume. After that I left it to rest for another hour or so. Then I rolled the dough ball into a long snake about two inches or 50 mm thick. Cut it into shorter pieces if the snake gets too long. Use a sharp knife and wet the blade with water, else the dough will stick to the knife. You don't want to tear the dough, it needs to stay nicely sealed to keep the bubbles that are forming whole.
Now cut the snake into short cylinders to make balls of the same size as the snake. Wet the small balls with a little oil and roll them out to less than 6 mm or a quarter of an inch. You can do this one at a time, there's no rush. You get a one person production line going. Fry the flattened breads immediately in a dry pan. You roll out the next one a soon as the preceding one goes into the pan and so on. There is enough oil on them after the rolling out that you should not need more oil. Earlier I said the bread is to be fried in light oil. You may put a millimetre of oil in the pan if you prefer, the results are pretty much the same. Watch out that the oil does not get too hot, else the bread will burn in spots. The oil helps the flat piece of dough to make proper thermal contact with the frying pan.
You need the frying pan on the warm side. Turn the bread over after a minute or two. The fried bread should look like the outside of a normal loaf, just thin. You can fry them as dark as you like, but watch out for drying them out completely. Remove each one from the pan and set aside on a paper towel to cool and absorb any excess oil.
And wait till they have cooled down properly before digging in. A burnt tongue is not a happy experience.
This recipe is also suited to get primary school children into making bread. Holiday pastime, especially in rainy season, methinks. I would use instant yeast or dried yeast which goes faster, else they may lose interest.
These breads do not need a bread knife to cut, which is a boon at sea. As this is a salt bread, you can have it as a side to a stewed dish, much like the people in the Middle East and India do. Or you can eat them like flapjacks. These ones were made with a wild yeast and thus have a sourness which is exquisite with honey and real butter.
You make'um, you eat'um. How is nobody's business.




This post also linked to Yeastspotting!

Authored by Johan Zietsman
Last updated on 2012-12-12

The New Wild Yeast

I arrived back home from the yacht delivery a week or so ago, to find to my dismay that the home reserve of the precious wild yeast we used on the boat had been chucked down the drain in a spree of spring cleaning.
Fiddlesticks!
So I started again. This time I used some crushed rye that I bought some time ago. I put it through the coffee grinder to get it into smaller pieces, then added half a cup of rye flour and enough water to make a batter. I reasoned that there should be at least some yeast on the whole grains to be harnessed in my endeavours.
And I was right. The mix started to ferment within 24 hours. By 36 hours there was a nice froth on top. I then washed the yeast to get rid of some of the lactic acid and fed it some wheat flour.
For those not in the know, you wash the sourdough by adding a lot of water and thus diluting the sourdough. This will dilute the lactic acid, but not hamper the yeast itself. Then you chuck away about three quarters of the thin mix, which will get rid of the same percentage of the lactic acid. Now you feed the thin mix again with flour, not adding much water. This will leave you with a sourdough containing less lactic acid to hamper the growth of the yeast. This procedure I got from the book Classic Sourdoughs Revised by Jane Wood and Ed Wood. I have a Kindle version, available from Amazon.com.
It is a good idea to wash a yeast after thawing, especially one that have been sitting in the refrigerator for a long time. Some of the yeast die in the colder environment, so you get rid of some of that as well. And you end up with a revitalised yeast.
After this washing treatment, my lot developed a brown fluid on top within 24 hours, so I stirred it all back in, then washed it again. This time fed it rye flour. After another 24 hours the sourdough was bubbling away happily and developing a nice sour smell. Then it was time for the next step, the first loaf.
I made the starter using a cup of rye flour, half a cup of the sourdough and some lukewarm water, enough to make a thick batter. This was left to develop for about eight hours. The dough was completed by adding a pinch of salt, a cup each of white bread and brown bread flour and some lukewarm water, just enough to make the dough knead-able.
I kneaded and folded the dough for about twenty minutes. During this time the dough absorbed about another half cup of the white bread flour that I used to flour the kneading board. I wet my hands with some cooking oil and patted this onto the dough ball, sealing it against drying out. Left overnight in the plastic mixing bowl with a lid on, in an ambient temperature of around 20ºC/68ºF, this dough almost tripled in volume.
I kneaded this down to the original volume and patted it into a small loaf shape. I decided on a rustic loaf, as this was still an experimental yeast. Fancy loaves or flat breads will come later.
The loaf was left to rest on the baking plate for another two hours. During this time it again almost doubled in volume. The experiment was clearly working and I have a very virile yeast. The loaf was baked at 200ºC/400ºF. I started with a cold oven and let the loaf heat up with the oven. I like to think this gives some additional oven spring. After fifteen minutes I brushed some water onto the top of the loaf to facilitate crust forming. I shall make some more experiments later with getting steam into the oven, but this has to do for now. The loaf was baked for forty minutes, after which the oven was switched off and left to cool for another twenty minutes.
The result was a magnificent loaf with nice large bubbles inside and a good soft crumb. The crust was a bit chewy too. And the bread had the characteristic sourness expected from a wild yeast.
Chalk up another successful yeast capturing experiment. Now the fun starts!

This blog also linked to Yeastspotting! 

Authored by Johan Zietsman
Last updated on 2012-12-12

Epilogue

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We arrived at Fort Lauderdale after motor-sailing through the night. The extra diesel that we got from the passing ship helped us to keep up a decent speed. All of us were relieved that the voyage was over. It was a long haul mentally, the stretch from St Maarten to Fort Lauderdale. You start to wind down mentally because the end of the voyage is near, then most of your troubles come to the fore. However, we overcame these mental blocks and sailed safely into harbour. The funny part was that we observed proper protocol by calling the harbour master and asked permission to enter harbour. We got a somewhat terse reply. Then we realised that nobody bothers, they just enter and leave as they please. And our puny little 39 ft (12 m) boat appeared to be one of the smallest ones around. We were dwarfed by the larger motor yachts and super-yachts playing around on the sea and in and out of harbour. This while big ships were entering and leaving harbour.
Perhaps we have much to learn.
The mosquitoes devoured us in the marina, which is dredged out of the Everglades. Luckily these are not the Anopheles that carry malaria. I am still nursing a gazillion mosquito bites. I am taking an anti-histamine to relieve the itching. Something to remember in your planning; plan for conditions at your destination as well.
In retrospection, we have had a good trip. Lots of opportunity to learn something new. We took along a Spanish course on CD and progressed some way. But you need an opportunity to speak the language, else the learning goes for a six. You also need some decent discipline in the group aboard to keep it up. One person will have severe difficulty in keeping the practical exercises alive.
I took my sextant and reduction tables along yet again. This proved to be somewhat therapeutic, the open sea navigation. Gives one a sense of where you are. In addition, I think the dead reckoning skills that you develop by doing this will stand you in good stead in coastal navigation on shorter voyages. It keeps you alert and whelps a lot with situational awareness. Something that you tend to lose when looking at a computer screen only. Remember, you are on a boat, it helps to look outside from time to time. And not just for the proper lookout thing either. Vaal dam sailors will be very aware of this, as you can beach your boat quite easily over there.
You also need something to keep the group together on board. We took a pack of cards and another pack of UNO cards. These were quite popular and we would have a league for the whole voyage. The card game provides some way of letting off steam, so the crew tend not to get 'cabin fever' and lose their sense of decorum.
This time around we took along a backgammon board. This works well, as we were three people on board. So, while one would be preparing dinner, the other two would play backgammon. Another game allowing you to exercise your aggression.
Reading is quite a big pastime on board. This time I had a Kindle, an e-book reader. This is a boon, as it enables one to have a lot of books but little weight. On the first trip I had to ditch all my books at the destination, as it constituted too much weight to fly back. Remember, you fly back. The e-reader also gives you the opportunity to read at the airport while waiting for your flight.
On this trip I managed to wade through Sons and Lovers by DH Lawrence, The Seven Pillars of Wisdom by TE Lawrence (of Arabia, that one), Dave Barry's Only Travel Guide You'll Ever Need, The Ultimate Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy by Douglas Adams, The Elegant Universe: Superstrings, Hidden Dimensions, and the Quest for the Ultimate Theory by Brian Greene and Catch 22 by Joseph Heller. Three books by Chelsea Handler, one of which is about her one-night stands, a start on The Prince and The Pauper by Mark Twain and some of the Magician's Nephew, part of the Tales of Narnia, nogal.
I also perused extensively the book Classic Sourdoughs Revised by Jean Wood and Ed Wood. This one gave me the inspiration and helped me out of trouble when I almost had some mishaps with the dough.
Heavy reading, perhaps, but you have sufficient time to digest what you read. I also got through a major part of The Power of Now by Eckhard Tolle towards the end of the trip. This helped me to overcome the mental and psychological fatigue of worrying over sufficient fuel and food and the planning associated with that. You need to stay sane and on the ball.
Then there is the music. You need a lot of music. We had quite a variety on board, ranging from opera to heavy metal and pop. Don't forget the classical stuff and classic jazz, not to mention Piaf and some of the more modern soft vocal jazz artists. BB King and Gary Moore. Jacques Brel, Bruch, Beethoven and Mozart,Handel. Led Zeppelin, Amanda Strydom, Laurika Rauch, Cindy Lauper, Cliff Richard, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Joan Osborne, to name but a few. You need variety, else you get bored by your own music. Fifty-nine days at sea is a long t ime.
People nowadays use an MP3 player and earplugs.
Personally, I have a problem with that when in confined waters with lots of traffic. I think it is distracting when on watch, but then I am getting long in the tooth anyway. A caveat then, perhaps. But you need music. It is quite an experience to be listening to Edith Piaf or Maria Callas while surfing down the swell at fourteen knots. We played music on the sound system in the afternoons when everybody was awake. The sleeping hours tend to diminish after some days at sea, as your body clock grows into the routine and you chill into the quiet atmosphere of the boat and the sea.
The sprout growing is also a good pastime. It takes up very little time and provides good fresh food. And eating fenugreek sprouts will help keep your blood sugar levels down.

The bread making was the highlight of the trip. I nursed my wild yeast sourdough through all the weather and used the last of it for the last leavened bread. I could not feed it and did not need to anyway, as we were at t he end of the voyage and the stove had been decommissioned and polished for hand over. The bread tasted wonderfully delicious and was a lot heavier than commercial bread. Being heavier it lasted a longer time and we got the idea that it is a lot lower in GI (Glycemic Index.) It means the bread is a lot heavier than the ones you buy in the shop. We had the opportunity to try out various combinations of flour and preparation methods, giving us a reasonable experience in what works and what not. For example, sweetcorn in the dough does not taste overly good, but the bread is edible. You need a different combination of flours to make it worthwhile. Dawid had a bash at making bread as well, a useful skill to have at home. So we had some transfer of technology, so to speak. Perhaps we are now slightly better house trained. I shall certainly do this again. You don't need an oven, as most of the bread can be made in a dry pan, lightly oiled pan or deep oil. Take your pick. The vetkoek-style flatbread is quite handy on board, as you don't need a bread knife, thereby easing the logistics of handling food during adverse weather. Deep oil in a pan is dangerous, so do keep it in mind when cooking on board.

The storm that we encountered in the last two days at sea transpired to be the tropical storm Isaac. To me it felt like a huge thunderstorm. It built up for a long time, clouds thickening on the horizon, the humidity growing to unbearable levels in the oppressive heat. Then it lasted for about two hours, blowing us around like a leaf in the wind. This catamaran is not built for these conditions, being square from various angles. But the boat is quite sturdy and we made it without much ado. I got very wet, but that's sailing for you. It is a water sports after all.
Fishing is always on the cards. Make sure that you know how to handle the fish when you want to get it aboard. Or remove the hook to release it. We caught several snoek, queen mackerel to some people. These have teeth. We also caught a billfish or two. These things are dangerous, especially the bigger ones. We talk here about the ones that only just did not manage to snap the line and get away. They are big and heavy, as in over 40 kilograms (or 90 pounds), and you may sprain your back getting them out of the water.
Having said all this, the question remains: will I do it again? The answer is an unequivocal yes. The open ocean provides an environment for a complete cleansing and detoxing of the soul, not to mention the clean air and quiet solitude. And the beauty of the little Caribbean islands amongst which you sail, quietly taking in the sights and fragrances wafting in from the land as you pass.
Well friends, this is all for now. Another voyage over and the jail doors slamming shut behind you as you go from the freedom of a seaward existence back to the land and its bureaucratic institutions.
I do not know what the future holds for me, but stay in touch. Perchance I shall sail some more and discover new places and more of the inner nooks and crannies of my soul and share it with you.

Authored by Johan Zietsman
Last updated on 2012-12-12

3rd Leg Day 11: Pumpkin Fritters And A Storm

Yesterday we bent to our cleaning tasks. The boat now looks like a new boat again. Even the mooring lines are clean.

We were able to motor at a decent speed after we filled the tanks with the additional diesel. The storm clouds were gathering at dusk and they built up steam during the night.

Then, during the 03h00 to 06h00, the storm blast came. Much like the one of the Ancient Mariner. The wind was blowing twenty two knots, gusting twenty five. The boat was going in all sorts of directions until we got the motor revs up and got control back. We were in a situation of wind over current, where one gets big choppy waves and the boat bounces around, and you with it, in a most ungentlemanly manner. After getting the revs up we were making headway at about one and a half knots. Scary at times, one would say. We were rather hoping for a nice steady wind that would allow us to have a sliver of the genoa out and sailing along merrily riding out the storm.

The storm lasted for about an hour or so. Much like the highveld thunderstorms in and around the Witwatersrand area of South Africa. The driven rain was cold enough for me to reach for my rain jacket. But, alas, this was not to be. The zipper has a crust of salt on it and needs some fresh water treatment to work properly again.

So there I stood outside, the saloon door closed against the driven rain and me hanging on to anything that I could find. I was standing in the most sheltered part of the aft deck, which is not really sheltered. You get rained on multiple times. The first time is the driven rain. The other times are from various sources off the bimini top as the boat rolls and pitches, pouring the collected rain water down various parts of your upper anatomy, not least your armpits, because you are holding on to something higher than your shoulders. Another character building exercise, forsooth. You need to keep your cool, take a deep breath and count to ten. Then do it again. Then remember that this is what you chose as the idyllic life style of sailing. Otherwise your bad language may just put you in some negative mood and then all the enjoyment is out of the experience. Heaven forbid!

This all came to a logical end and at 06h00 I was relieved by Renier, who then came on duty. By that time the storm had subsided and it was getting light, a balmy morning after the storm. I dived into my bunk and slept a solid two and a half hours, wet swimming trunks and all.

We basically completed the cleaning that we could sensibly do during the rest of the morning, leaving us with some spare time in the afternoon. The distance remaining on this voyage amounts to less than 150 nautical miles, which we should complete during the night. This puts our arrival at early Saturday morning, giving us a nice long rest and some recreational time before handover on Monday. There is also the odd bit of cleaning and polishing that needs to be done while alongside. Too tricky or dangerous at sea. We don't want anyone to fall overboard this far into the voyage.

The wind came up nicely on the beam and we could hoist the mainsail. This got us sailing along at around eight knots on a flat sea. The idyllic sailing conditions that you dream of. And wish for during the times of bad weather. Haven't I heard this before?

As the last of the last legs food, I made pumpkin fritters for lunch.

Butternut Fritters

We had half a butternut, sugar and some self raising flour left. And of course, some salt. I peeled the butternut and cut it into thin slices to allow fast cooking. The thinner something is, the faster it cooks. Our oil had run out, but we still had two or three blocks (500g/ 1 lb) of butter left, so I popped half of one into the wok for frying the fritters.

Ingredients

Half a butternut

1 cup sugar

small stick cinnamon bark

1 teaspoon salt

2 cups self raisning flour

oil for frying

Process

Cook the butternut in a little water along with the cinnamon stick. Mash the lot when done. Remove the cinnamon bark first. Allow it to cool to a level where you can handle it. Add the sugar and salt and mix thoroughly. Keep on mixing while adding the self raising flour a little at a time. Continue until you have a dough, not a batter.

Scoop out a dessert spoon ful of the dough at a time and put into the oil. Fry until the fritter is nice and golden, then remove and drain on a paper towel.

A word of warning: Be careful when using oil in a pot on board, especially when the boat is bouncing a bit. Hot oil causes severe burns for which you may not have the proper treatment on board.

The other caveat is that you may burn your tongue if you don't let the fritters cool down properly before digging in...

Authored by Johan Zietsman
Last updated on 2012-12-12

3rd Leg Day 10: The Big Cleanup, Last Puri And A RAS Exercise

RAS is an acronym for Replenishment At Sea. We did that today. We hailed a passing ship by the name of Carib Trader on the VHF radio and enquired about the weather. It transpired that we could expect some twenty to thirty knots of wind in the next sixteen to twenty hours. Not something to sneeze at.

The captain of the small container vessel then enquired after our well being and, after some short negotiations, gave us sixty liters of diesel fuel. Then the fun started. Our puny little catamaran is not up to the speeds that freight ships can do, so the captain of the freight ship hove to, allowing us to catch up. A line was passed to us,almost tethering the vessels, but not quite. Something to avoid. Two drums of diesel were then passed via the line, us hauling fiercely to take up the slack. The empty drums were passed to the ship in similar fashion, working the other direction. An interesting exercise. Luckily the sea was quite calm and flat, so the exercise was completed under safe conditions. No fingers pinched or thumbs amputated.

A very kind gesture from a fellow seafarer and we thank them for it.

We gave them our empty diesel drums in return.

The extra diesel now enables us to motor at 2500 rpm instead of 1600 rpm. So we are making way at 3.8 knots over the ground instead of just over one knot. I have to write the word “one” in letters to make it sound faster.. We are going at 5.2 knots through the water, but have a counter current yet again. Of just under 1.5 knots. No wonder we are running out of diesel.

Last Puri

Or is it khubz, perhaps? Today I made the last bread of the voyage. Literally. All the flour has now been consumed. I did not even bother to treat the sourdough nicely. I just fed it some rye flour and a little water after taking it out of the refrigerator, then left it in the cupboard for nine hours to wake up.

The oven has been decommissioned, so the bread had to be baked or fried in a pan. I chose to make a thin flat-bread, Even the flour mixture was sort of pot luck. I used all that was left over. I saved a cup or so for after the rise, that I may have some reserve in case the dough was hungry. It turned out that it was and it sucked up all the rest of the flour.

I fried the bread in a little cooking oil in the wok. Somewhere along the way I ran out of oil, so I popped in about half a pound of butter (250g). Call it Ziets' fast ghee. This lasted only just until the last slice was fried.

The bread had a delicious sour taste, along with the characteristic taste of rye. It is easy to make and no oven is required. And no bread knife required either. Incidentally, we forgot to bring a bread knife. Chalk up another score for flat-bread made on the hob.

This recipe is an adaptation of the one for khubz from Classic Sourdoughs, Revised by Ed and Jane Wood. It conforms also to an Indian style of making bread, hence the name Puri.

Ingredients

2 cups white bread flour

2 cups rye flour

½ cup brown bread flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 cup sourdough proof

1-2 cups water

Process

Mix all the dry ingredients thoroughly. Then add the sourdough proof and mix through. Add some water. I used about half a cup in addition to the sourdough proof. It may have been too much, as the dough swallowed at lot of flour during kneading. Take it easy on the water and keep some flour in reserve.

Keep on mixing until the dough gets too firm to mix with a spoon, then turn out onto the kneading board and knead until the dough gets satiny. Cover the dough against drying out and leave to rise for around eight to twelve hours. Check for the doubling in volume, that is your key. Then turn out the dough on a floured kneading board and knead it back to the original volume. Leave to rest for at least an hour.

Pat and roll the dough into a long cylinder of about 50 mm (2 inches) thick. Cut the cylinder into two if it gets too long to roll on your kneading board.

Heat some oil in a wok or frying pan. Cut a small disk from the cylinder of dough, oil your hands and pat the disk into a ball. Roll it out to a 100-120 mm (4-5 inch) disk and fry it for a minute on neither side. The flatbread should go a nice golden colour. Remove it from the oil and drain on a paper towel. Repeat the process until all the dough has been used.

It is useful to do one at a time. It gives you time to prepare the next flatbread while its predecessor is frying in the pan. A nice one person production line.

These things are exceedingly hot when they come out of the oil, so watch your step with splashing and dripping of oil. I have some extra blisters now.

Bon appetit!

We had some interesting scenery on our way today. We passed a channel marker light standing on the northern side of the Bahama Channel. The interesting part is that it appears to stand all alone in the middle of the ocean, as much of the surrounding reefs are just submerged. So you see this lonely light on a small rock in the middle of nowhere.

We also saw some American warships as they passed us on their way. The narrow channel makes for interesting viewing. Also, an interesting life, as we are small fry and need to keep out of the way of the big ships. There is a separation scheme running here to prevent collisions  A collision in this neck of the woods could spell a disaster to the sensitive coral ecosystem around here. So we tread carefully and stay on the safe side of the channels. We have had enough interesting times already.

Today was also the day of the big cleaning exercise. We plan to make our landfall at Fort Lauderdale tomorrow, so this is it. No more leeway, literally. Everything has to be spotless. Dawid and I get to do the outside, while the skipper does the inside. Everything got removed from the cupboards and was stashed in boxes or plastic bags outside to get access to the cupboards for the cleaning. If you have ever moved house, this is what it looks like. And everything has to go into our bags or get dumped on arrival. Binary choice, no less.

And now the motions come out on just how attached we got to certain things and habits. I had to use the saloon table and our cutting board to knead and roll out the dough for the bread. The normal working surfaces used to be covered with some protective plastic, which now has been removed. So the working surfaces of old are now also decommissioned, just like the oven. And our living space is severely cramped, even extending to our cabins. All your personal stuff that used to live in the saloon for the last two months are now living quite comfortably next to you on your bed. And all of it have to go into your bags. It is now that we all learn to kick habits, make salvage or jettison decisions and stand by them. Perhaps a good psychological exercise for all of us. And perhaps also for those at home, except they will have to do it by proxy. Or perhaps a garage sale. Or a big spring cleaning. It is spring in South Africa after all.













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Authored by Johan Zietsman
Last updated on 2013-01-18

3rd Leg Day 9: Final Risotto And Planning For Handover

The contents of our freezer on board are now really on the last legs. About one third of a head of cabbage, the last scraps of the last fenugreek sprouts, mixed with a few leftover mung bean sprouts from a previous harvest, three or four portions of frozen fish and a half portion of frozen chicken breasts.

In the pantry there remains some rice, chicken stock and three dried shitake mushrooms. From the the refrigerator I dug out the last half cup of white wine, all the way from Robertson in the Western Cape. There was also the last of the green masala paste I brought from home.

You guessed it. On my last turn to cook on this voyage, I made a chicken risotto. To the ingredients outlined above, I added a small dried Jamaican chili I obtained from a small grocery on St Maarten.

The Last Risotto

Ingredients

250 g deboned chicken breasts, cubed

1 dessert spoon green masala paste

1 onion, chopped

3 dried shitake mushrooms, redydrated in ½ cup hot water and chopped

1 dessertspoon chicken stock powder

½ cup white wine

1 dried Jamaica chili pepper, finely chopped

1 cup finely sliced cabbage ( as for coleslaw)

1 cup fresh sprouts, I used a mix of fenugreek and mung bean sprouts because that's what was left over in the refrigerator.

½ cup milk. I did not have cream, so I used milk.

2-3 cups hot water

dollop of cooking oil

300 ml uncooked rice. I used long grain rice obtained from the grocer in St Maarten. This one has more starch than the South African version.

Process

Marinate thye chicken cubes in the msala paste for thirty minutes. Fry the chicken and mushrooms in a lightly oiled frying pan or wok. The chicken must start to stick to the wok. Remove from the wok and keep it warm.

Add the chopped onion and chili to the wok and fry until the onion goes brown, then add the fresh cabbage and sprouts. Stir fry this until the vegetables go soft, then add the dry rice. Stir fry the rice until it starts to pick up a colour, then add some water. Keep on frying the rice until the water has been soaked up. Then add in sequence the chicken stock dissolved in some water, then the wine, then water as required. Keep on stirring the dish to ensure nothing sticks to the bottom of the wok and burns.

Keep stirring and adding water as required. When the rice is almost done, add the chicken and mushroom back to the dish and simmer until done. Add the milk towards the end and stir it through properly. Add more water if required.

Bon appetit!

We sat around the oat today, cleaning up messes and planning the rest of the spit & polish work. We want to have the boat as clean as possible before we get alongside at Fort Lauderdale. This will alleviate our task in the marina. We shall then be doing the bulk of the work here at sea, where there is a breeze or two to cool you down. As opposed to the oppressive, sweltereing heat of a basically inlnd marina. Our destination marina is about two odd miles inland, so there won't be any sea breeze to cool you in your labours

The various schemes that we think up not to do work in a hot marina are quite hilarious. Overtly, all these schemes are aimed at not to have to work in the marina. But underlying to all of this is a desire not to work at all and have a decent weekend before the final handover and the flight back home.

As the situation stands at present, we are about three hundred odd nautical miles from our final destination. This should take about three days. But we are getting almost hysterical about this planning. We have misjudged the sailing conditions by a wide margin for the last four or five days. We had counter currents and a lack wind, resulting in some anxious calculations on fuel reserves. We went so far as to dip both the diesel tanks, as both fuel gauges have now stuck in the three quarter full position. Never to reset again. Your mind does strange things to you when things like these happen. There is a roller-coaster of emotions going through your head.

These accentuate the feeling that we have had enough of these weird failures. We need to get some psychological rest. It is not nice to sit in fear of the next breakage, even if you are resourceful. And this on a brand new boat.

At least the wind is playing along and for the third day in a row we are sailing at over six knots average. This goes a long way in soothing the nerves, let alone eating away at the miles remaining. Hopefully we shall have currents with us after passing through the Bahama Channel, which will work like a slingshot to end our voyage.

We are now just fifty miles away from entering the Bahama Channel, so here's to the hope that there is no more counter currents and that we have fair winds for the rest of our voyage.

Authored by Johan Zietsman
Last updated on 2012-12-12