Last Thursday morning, I posted a recipe for a snowpea, almond mint and blood orange salad and I wrote that it was the perfect thing to eat when recovering from the heat of a potentially catastrophic fire day, like the day we experienced on the previous Thursday. When I posted this in the morning it seemed like a perfectly, average fire risk day: it wasn’t that hot – well, not as hot as the previous Thursday but, by the afternoon, the winds were fierce, a plume of smoke and ash had descended over Sydney and fires were burning to north, west and south of the city. When I picked up my son from school, he said: ‘this is just like the apocalypse, all it needs is some torn up road and a burning car and it would be the apocalypse’. All I could think, if this what climate change means, catastrophic fires in October: this is bullshit. I didn’t mention this to my son, not because as some commentators seem to think that it’s somehow rude, disrespectful or, God forbid, politicising the fires in the already toxic climate debate in this country, but because I was so freaking depressed that the world I was bequeathing to my son was a place where you have catastrophic fire storms in October.
Australians are used to fires – the whole bushfire thing – fighting fires, surviving fires, losing your house and everything you own in fires, is buried deep in our national psyche. When I was a kid, one of my favorite books was Colin Thiele’s February Dragon, a story about a late summer fire. When I was growing up, during February and early March at the end of a long hot Australian summer was when you had the big fires. I was a voracious reader when I was a kid but most of the books I consumed were English and American, so I lived in this strange country of the imagination that was shaped by writers half a world away. I loved February Dragon because it was about us: Australians and bushfires. I romanticised the whole bushfire narrative and imagined how I would behave (heroically, of course) if I was caught in a fire and lost everything I owned.
Now, to an extent, we are going to have to live with the effects of climate change on our hot, dry country. After what was our warmest winter, ever followed by one of our warmest Octobers ever, the ‘February dragon’ has become the ‘October dragon’. It’s hard to romanticise these fires simply as a national ‘character building’ exercise because what Australia stands to lose as a result of our warming planet is just too frightening.
By Thursday afternoon, I was getting worried about some friends in the Blue Mountains and Southern Highlands, so I texted and emailed them just to say ‘I hope you’re okay’. By Friday afternoon, I was more worried about my mountain friends because, according to news reports, there was a fire very near their house. Then on Friday evening, my sister rang and said she’d just seen our friends on the ABC News and they’d lost their house. I turned on the telly to ABC 24 and although I didn’t see my friends being interviewed, I did see their house again and again, footage of the burnt out shell and even of it burning. I could see through the flames into their incredibly familiar lounge and kitchen burning in what seemed like slow motion.
The ABC News was a psychotic loop of repeated images of flames, burnt out streets and homes. The news reporters kept repeating how stoic the mountain folk were in the face of losing all their possessions – most of them said the same thing – you know the risks when you move to the mountains, as long as your family’s safe, in the end it’s all just ‘stuff’. I’ve lived in the mountains: it’s true, you know the risks, you think about fire a lot, particularly if you live as I did, and my friends do(did) over looking bush land. You think about how you would feel if you lost your house and what you would save but deep down you don’t really believe it is going to happen to you. The thing about these fires is most people didn’t get a chance to save anything. Experienced firefighters who saw these fires at their height said these weren’t ordinary bushfires: they were firestorms, and everyone’s carefully worked out fire plans just went out the window.
These date and walnut rolls might seem like an odd thing to make in the aftermath of catastrophic fires but, you see, one of the friends who lost her house is an old, old friend. We go way back, to the same country town, kind of way back. Our mums were in CWA together, women who kept the good china in a glass cabinet and knew how to put on a slap-up feast for a morning or afternoon tea. These date and walnut rolls, slathered with lashings of butter, are a particularly old-fashioned tea time treat. The recipe is from Margaret Fulton, the absolute doyenne of Australian food writing, who lived for much of her early years in the same small town as me and my friend. When I watching the news footage of my friends house burning, it was interspersed with shots of the evacuation centres set up with large urns for hot water and cups of tea and huge platters of sandwiches cut and quartered into triangles. This is the rural Australia my friend and I came from – a place where a nicely made sandwich and a decent cup of tea can almost set the world right.
To the memory of my friends Katrina and Susan’s gorgeous home in the Blue Mountains with its countless memories of generosity, incredible food, side-splitting laughter, parlor and board games and, of course, endless pots of tea. Here’s a nice cup of tea, a slice of buttered date loaf and to hope and life and a future creating ever more memories of friendship and love.
If you want to contribute to fire relief there are quite a few options. The Salvos are accepting clothing and household items but in reality, these are hard to sort through and impersonal as it seems, cash is often best. People need to replace their underwear! There are more charities out there but I always tend donate to the Red Cross (there’s a logo you can trust) and WIRES, which does brilliant work in ordinary times, has set up a bushfire appeal to save wildlife injured in the fires.
Note: You can, of course, bake these date and nut rolls in loaf tins but if you are lucky enough to have inherited your grandmother’s special nut roll baking tins (as I have), there is nothing like a round, nut and date loaf for that special ‘wow’ factor.
Date and walnut rolls
Adapted from Margaret Fulton’s Encyclopedia of Food and Cookery.
- 1 cup of chopped dates
- ¾ cup of firmly packed brown sugar
- 1 teaspoon of bicarb soda
- 60 grams (2 ounces) butter
- 1 teaspoon of grated citrus zest – lemon or orange (I used blood orange zest which was really good)
- 1 cup of boiling water
- 2 cups of self-raising flour
- 1 teaspoon of mixed spice
- 1 egg beaten
- ½ cup of chopped walnuts
- Preheat oven to 180°C/350°F, or 160°C fan forced. Butter two 21 x 11cm (8½ x 4½ inches) loaf tins or, if you are using the nut roll tins, butter the insides and lids and butter four squares of greaseproof paper for the lids. Place greaseproof paper over one end of each of the round tins, jam the lids on and stand tins on covered ends.
- Place dates, brown sugar, bicarb soda, chopped butter and zest in a large mixing bowl. Pour boiling water over this and stir through until butter has melted and allow to cool.
- Sift flour and mixed spice then add to cooled date mix alternatively with egg and chopped walnuts, until well mixed.
- Pour mix into loaf tins or spoon mix into the two round tins until about half full. Cover the top ends with the remaining greaseproof paper on ends and jam the second lid on.
- Place round tins on side on a tray in the middle rack of the oven and back for 45 minutes.
- Take off lids and cool in tins for about 10 minutes, remove lids and turn cakes out onto a rack to cool completely.
- Slice and serve with lashings of good organic butter and your best mix matched bone china.
The Back Yard Lemon Tree 
Yikes, what a scary situation. I’m glad everyone is okay. We also have fires in California, but they never seem close enough to get quite so scary.
I remember mum would bake/steam nut loaves whenever we gave her 30 minutes to produce something for cake stalls or whenever someone needed a lift. Date and nut loaves meld together in my mind with caring and the passing of a still warm fragrant loaf between hands that cared, but might not have been able to express how much, to hands that were weary, depleted, filled with loss and just plain over it all. There is something about a cup of tea and a chunk of cake that rebuilds. It might not rebuild physically but it’s the precursor. It rebuilds your hope, your stamina, your sense of place and your ability to think clearly and gives you a little “spell” where you can regroup and come out of the wilderness and face up to what now has to be done. Food is SO much more than something to put in your face. Cheers for this wonderful post and for reminding us all of what we Aussies are renowned for and what gives us our soul, living through, sifting through the ashes and rising up again and always ALWAYS looking after your mate. I am so sorry your friends lost their homes.
There is a lot to be said for the magical curative powers of cake, and there is something exceptionally nourishing about homemade cake.
🙂
This date loaf is a beautiful tribute to your friend, your childhood and your country. Thanks Elizabeth.
I’m sorry to hear that your friends lost their home… this is a particularly scary fire season already… I hate it when the media ‘fly in’ for these things, especially shows with Kochi and co. I am wondering why NZ and US firefighters haven’t come to help…. we seem to help them out! Your loaf looks delicious. Thank you for sharing a great recipe.
In general I prefer to stick to radio in times of crisis like this – the telly tends to be so repetitive and so desperate for punchy sound bytes and dramatic imagery there’s something very disturbing about it all. I heard on the radio today that these fires could burn all summer, but then my brain went into traumatic shutdown, so I’m not sure whether I heard that correctly. All we can really do at this point is pray for real, drenching rain.
This more than a recipe, but an insight into community and also the times we’re living in. Thanks so much, Elizabeth.
Well, that looks like a great loaf!
Elizabeth as I read your blog the smell of eucalypts burning was all mingled in with my Grandmother’s date and nut loaf coming from the kookaburra ( I think that’s right) wood fired oven in the bush. It’s been heart breaking to see the images of the fires and the losses. Once you’ve experienced that whoooosh of a eucalypt catching fire, I don’t think you ever forget. I’m going to keep on “seeing” slow drizzly rain falling. Thanks for sharing your thoughts and the recipe.
You’ve got it right there – Kookaburra was an old stove brand. I think the nut roll is particular to Australia, it’s a strange phenomena when you think about it all those specially manufactured cylinder tins for nut rolls, a very similar idea to to the tank loaf of bread which I also used to adore when I was a child. Australians must really like things baked in cylinder tins.
You are a nice friend Elizabeth- they are being rather quiet about needing things. Please let me know if I can do anything. x Brett
I’ll keep you posted Brett, Lovely to hear from you.
Sorry to hear about your friends – bushfires are such scary, unpredictable things. I grew up not far from the Black Saturday bushfires in Victoria and still get upset when I think about them. Everyone in the area seemed to know someone who had lost their home (or worse, their life) – and now that i’s happening earlier and earlier its just horrible to think about.
On a happier note, this loaf looks delicious! My dad is a huge walnut and date fan so I might have to make this for him!
Definitely make this for your dad, it’s a really good date and nut loaf, there’s something very old fashioned about the flavour which takes you back in time. (It must be the mixed spice)
My heart goes out to your friends and all those affected by the fires. I love the look of this roll, it looks appropriately comforting for the situation and makes me want a cylindrical tin too.
This is an old favourite of mine so thank you for the recipe. I will be making it, in a loaf tin. I have round loaf tin envy!
You used to be able to pick up these tins in op shops quite easily but not so much nowadays. I have an old woman’s weekly cookbook with three pages of nut roll recipes but the date and walnut is the best I think.
What a beautifully written account of the bushfire reality of our country. I know too well the fear of living in the bush and the threat of wildfire, having just moved away from the Yarra Ranges only months before the Black Saturday devastation. I’m so sorry to hear of the loss of your friend’s house. I, too, was following ABC24’s rolling coverage, and that awful looping footage – how terrible for you to recognise it was your friend’s house on TV. It’s true though that these devastating events often bring about a more philosophical way of thinking – that life is so much more important than ‘stuff’.
Just looking at your lovely date and walnut roll gives me a sense of comfort 🙂
My heart goes out to those who have lost their homes in NSW this October. Having lost my home in the Black Saturday bushfires in Victoria, I can wholeheartedly endorse these comments about the Salvos and the Red Cross. These two organisations did an amazing job in 2009. Please donate, and yes, small offerings like a lovely baked roll can make a difference too. Thank you for such a senstive and timely post.
I am so pleased to have found again online your recipe for date and walnut loaf. I lost it for 4 years and have been searching through my paper recipes for it. It is by far the best ever recipe for date and walnut loaf. Thanks so much for it.