John the Woodman and the Vanilla Bean

Every winter for twelve years, John the Woodman regularly bought me generous loads of pre split firewood which he stacked neatly. Into his eighties, wearing tiny shorts in all weathers, he continued to arrive in his battered old ute full of seasoned 'ping ping' jarrah. Kind and considerate, always polite, funny and self deprecating, his determination to never to slow down was admirable.

 Always up for a chat, he was especially curious to hear of our holidays in Indonesia, having lived there as a child.  We encouraged him to revisit but he always said that he didn't want to see it changed, that he wanted to remember it as it was. John had fond memories of Indonesian food and one night we invited him to share an Indonesian feast starring  kangaroo rendang with us, thinking the meeting of two cultures would amuse him.

I had been lucky enough to be given a kilo of vanilla pods and after the meal had been savoured and a doggy bag packed for John to take home, I bought them to the table for John to see. It had an impact I could never have imagined. As a child in Java, John had played in the vanilla plantations. I am not sure if his parents owned them but he certainly knew a lot about them. It was a profitable business to be involved in and much favoured by the Dutch.

Vanilla planifolia originated in South America and was 'discovered', along with its culinary partner, cacao and was taken to Europe, where it failed to thrive. The only known pollinator, a melipone bee, did not exist outside of Mexico and the orchids refused to set pods for the next 300 years until Charles Morren, a Belgian botanist, developed a method of hand pollination. Each flower, open for only a few hours for one day must be opened and hand pollinated to produce one pod, each taking about two months to develop.

The process of curing the bland green pods to the fragrant sticky brown ones  involves sweating the pods at temperatures up to 65 centigrade with high humidity, wrapping and storing and repeating each day. The process may be started by immersing in boiling water or by being laid out in the sun for a few hours in the morning before being rolled up in blankets and stored before repeating until the pods are brown and fragrant. This can take up to 14 months.They are then laid out to dry. Add to the time involved the fact that crops are often decimated by cyclones and tropical storms and do not begin to flower until they are 3-5 years old we can appreciate why the world's favourite flavouring so expensive to buy.

Johns eyes filled with tears as he inhaled the sweet fragrance. John was a young boy when the Japanese invaded Java and with other Dutch families were herded into detention camps, the men to prison camps. We heard many stories that night of life in the camp, the hardships and lack of anything for the children to do. John was a lucky one. The Japanese were aware that for the vanilla crops to continue, the groves would need to be worked. Being young and agile, John was released early each morning to walk the many miles to the vanilla groves.Using a sharpened stick, he gently eased the pollen  out to press behind the stamen. Over and over, up and down ladders, on his own until it was time to head back. He was proud of his work, the freedom it gave him and the extra food he was sometimes able to find. Three years later, the Japanese were defeated and the Dutch East Indies became Indonesia. John and his family went to live Holland  from where he immigrated to Australia.

In 2016, John seemed to be slowing - a couple of accidents in the bush while working alone didn't stop him and his sons gave him a mobile phone. The death of his favourite dog impacted on him and his ute often refused to cooperate. We wondered if it would be better to stop ordering firewood as no matter what, he would deliver, though one of his sons was often with him now. Last year he seemed to vanish from sight, the phone went unanswered and was eventually disconnected and I stopped bumping into him in town. No one seemed to know where he was.

Just before Christmas I decided to use some of the vanilla and started some vanilla essence, extract and sugar. I gave all my friends a bunch of pods for Christmas. A call one evening in early January told me John had died. It was especially poignant that I had been surrounded by the fragrance of vanilla for the last few weeks. I would have loved to have bought you some John but ever the gentleman, you didn't want a fuss and left quietly.

This little part of the richness of your life that you shared with us I cherish. Your memory will live on for me in your story, in the warm fragrance of vanilla and as I use the sturdy chopping block you cut for me.

Go well my friend x Nirala

Spices Rare and Wonderful

Whole nutmeg

The birds discovered the peacharines the day before I was ready to pick so we stripped the tree, leaving the damaged fruit for them to finish. In a small garden it is difficult to net the trees so we are used to sharing. This crossbred tree produces huge juicy fruit that are like peaches without the fuzz but not great keepers. I knew that there would be more invisible bird holes that would turn to bruises in the next few days.

I didn’t have much time before work, so after carefully cutting around the damage and peeling a few sad peaches with the last few wrinkly plums, I put a large pot of fruit on to stew. When cool, I mix this with an equal amount of muesli and let it soak Bircher style in the fridge. With yoghurt, it is a quick and sustaining breakfast.

Some of the damaged peacharines were not quite ripe but I thought that they would pickle well in sweet and sour syrup. In typical Virgo style, my two herb and spice racks are sorted alphabetically with the overflow in a small basket in the pantry so I knew fairly quickly I had no whole star anise. It was early on a Saturday morning but we live in a trendy tourist town with a good variety of stock so I dispatched the cavalry on a mission. He returned with a very disappointing packet of broken, obviously second grade, star anise.

It got me thinking – last week we had to beg and borrow ground turmeric – there was none in the shops. We have become very blasé about using ingredients from all around the world. What would we use if they become the expensive rarities they once were? Consider that the plants that produce these may take years to reach maturity; the effort that it takes to grow, harvest and process them and the thousands of kilometers they may need to be shipped to reach us. Consider too, the exciting range of Australian spices and flavourings that there are to discover.

Cinnamon Bark

We need to show care and respect for these precious seeds, buds, nuts and leaves that give us such intense bursts of the concentrated tastes of the tropics if we choose to use them. It is best to buy smaller amounts unless you use lots. Store them in glass screw top jars away from heat and light and spices should stay viable for a year or more. Whole spices have the longest shelf life. If you can keep an electric coffee grinder exclusively to use for spices, you will be delighted by the difference. Vanilla pods seem to keep best tightly wrapped in plastic wrap and kept in the fridge. If you manage to buy a lot cheaply, make your own vanilla essence, using the method for tinctures from Nerys’ book: Healing with Herbs, the method is the same. Candle nuts, like other nuts, are best kept in the freezer until needed.

When your spices no longer have that WOW! Factor when you open the lid or grind them, its time to throw them out. Their warming properties will be useful when added in small amounts to chicken mash, especially in winter, when it is traditional to add copious amounts of pepper! Otherwise, add to the compost. Save whole spices as a filler for pot pourris – they absorb and hold essential oils wonderfully. A handful of whole spices on a fire will give up the last of their fragrance to a room. Better if you buy bulk then share with your friends, you’ll never waste any!