
Still banging on about the fall colours. Can’t help myself this year. A few more photos from a walk today in the Village.





Still banging on about the fall colours. Can’t help myself this year. A few more photos from a walk today in the Village.
It is possible to take landscape photos in the Okanagan that don’t include the lake. Yesterday’s fall walk with friends to the dramatic canyon that created Naramata Falls is in my hood. The first time we discovered the falls it was like an unbelievable scenic bonus. Our raspberry farm borders one of the numerous creeks (Arawana) that spills water into the lake but this much larger one has carved an impressive canyon that doesn’t get much sunlight and is home to mosses and other flora that stand apart from much of the Okanagan’s desert-like environment. It smells all damp, mouldy and piney and the rushing water is audible long before its visible.
Enjoying capturing this long autumn long kiss goodbye this year.
We are into borrowed time now in our gilded season. The low, slanting light that is wonderful for photography and that fleeting feeling, knowing the blue skies and gold light will too quickly fade to our long season of gray are getting me outside every chance I get.
The light: thick, plush, gold is not something we are imagining. The position of the sun in the sky is changing. That, in turn, alters how we perceive colour and light. In the height of summer, the sun is as far overhead as it gets. But the sun drops and drops after the summer solstice in June — and the change speeds up at the midpoint toward winter, which is the light I’m capturing in these photos.
The farther from the equator, the more obliquely the sun’s light strikes Earth — that’s the longer, slanted light we are bathed in now, instead of the full-on beams we bask in at high summer.
Winter is coming but not first without this gleaming farewell.This year’s fall colour has been supreme. No hard frosts or strong winds to crash the party early so nature can do its thing and linger in all its golden glory.
The ultimate in fall comfort cookies, the humble ginger cookie, can get no better than these. The recipe is from my new favourite local cookbook called The Butcher, the Baker, the Wine & Cheese Maker in the Okanagan and it’s genius creator is the Bean Scene Coffee Works in Kelowna.
It’s hard to pin down what makes this recipe so good. I think it’s the combination of the spices and of course, butter.
Ingredients
Preheat oven to 375F. Whisk the flour, baking soda and spices in a medium bowl and set aside. In a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, beat butter, brown sugar and 1/3 cup of white sugar together on high speed, until light and fluffy. Add the egg yolk and vanilla and continue mixing on a lower speed until blended. Add molasses and mix again for about 30 seconds. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and add the dry mixture, mixing on low speed until all the flour is incorporated. The dough will be soft and slightly sticky.
Roll dough into 1 tablespoon-sized balls and drop onto a plate containing 1/2 cup of white sugar. Roll cookies in sugar and press lightly to form a disk, making sure to coat both sides. Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet, spaced 1 inch apart. Bake one cookie sheet a time on the middle rack for 11 minutes. The cookies should come out of the oven with the traditional crackle appearance and looking slightly under-baked.
Best eaten warm with a lovely cup of coffee or hot chocolate.
I’m not kidding about these being the ginger cookies I’ve ever baked although I fully admit I’m prone to exaggeration. I love it when you can bake the best of the best of simple, traditional recipes… like the shortbread cookies I made yesterday which were elevated into another realm with the addition of fresh vanilla bean (French Laundry recipe).
I love a good air show and the Snowbirds never disappoint. With the squadron’s (431 Iroquois) origins in the Royal Canadian Air Force in the Second World War I also have a sentimental attachment…my dad was a navigator in the 433 Squadron.
Munson Mountain is the perfect vantage point for a Snowbirds’ show. You get the full sound of the jets and at times you feel as if your hair gets ruffled they pass so low overhead.
When performing their 9-abreast exit the wing tips are only 5.9 feet apart.
The heart, Canada burst, solo head-on crosses and all their highly choreographed moves are amazing, difficult and there is definitely an element of danger. Seven Snowbird pilots and one passenger have been killed over the years.
The first story I heard when I moved from Ontario for my second newspaper job as a reporter to Grande Prairie, Alberta involved a Snowbird crash. The Grande Prairie Herald’s long-time photographer had been assigned to shoot the airshow in 1978. He had gone to the show, snapped some photos and left to fulfill a family commitment. He left before 32-year-old Captain Gordon deJong’s plane crashed. This was in the days before cell phones and cameras so there were few photos of the dreadful event to fulfill the needs of hungry news outlets. For the best I think… His plane’s horizontal stabilizer failed meaning he had no control and his attempt to eject failed. Said photographer stayed right to the end of events ever after.
The military aerobatics air show flight demonstration team is based near Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan and comes to Penticton every couple of years. Can’t wait.
This is a part of our farm in our first year of production with some blueberry picking happening. Can’t wait until next year when our crop should triple. Thank you to our lovely customers at Legend Distilling where our raspberries are happily at home in their Farm Berry Vodka, Nummer’s Gourmet, where they are baked into nummy treats and the Bench Market that sold them fresh or incorporated in their fruit salads.
The Okanagan Valley is giving up the last of its bounty in one giant explosion of colour before the grey and white of winter moves in. Most of these photos were captured on the weekend at the Penticton Farmer’s Market or while helping with the grape harvest. Colour wheel!
Apple butter is a highly concentrated form of apple sauce produced by long, slow cooking of apples to a point where the sugar in the apples caramelize turning the apple butter a deep brown. Originating in the Middle Ages at monasteries with apple orchards, the secret to making this delicious preserve came over to colonial America with the settlers. Apple butter originated as a way to store apples without refrigeration, before canning was available. Groups would get together for an all-day affair that involved big kettles filled with apples, cider and spices that required constant stirring with big wooden paddles.
Everything you would ever need to know about the historical methods of making apple butter and a recipe to make your own with original methods can be found on the skill cult blog. It’s author encouraged me to try to the historical version but a bit leery on the food safety question, I decided sterilizing jars and finishing off with a good hard boil in a canner was a surer bet.
My recipe is a modern version using a crockpot, an apple peeler (can peel by hand) and an immersion blender (can use a blender or a whisk) and requires no all-day wooden paddle manning. Maybe I’m missing out although I’m happily married to my swain, The Handyman…
Here is where the fun came in, or the ladle was too large, in theory, at least, to be handled by one person, and it was customary for the girls and boys in pairs to take turns in stirring. The lady always had the choice of a partner to assist her when her turn came, and whichever swain she selected was regarded by the others as her favourite beau… The Conquest of Missouri, Joseph Mills Hanson, 1918
Step One: Apples
Step 2 Peel
Step 3 Fill your crock-pot
Step 4 Add sugar and spices
Step 5 Cook on low for about 10 hours
Step 6 Water bath can your apple butter. Sterilize your canning jars, fill them leaving 1/4 inch head space, wipe rims clean, place your lids on and place in a canner filled with boiling water and boil for 15 minutes.