Ancient Grains

I've been eating a lot of quinoa lately. For a long time it was one of those things that I heard a lot about, but had never really tried. I figured it was like rice or couscous, and, well, I already had rice and couscous, why would I need something else? But there's something satisfying about quinoa that you don't quite get with rice or couscous. Maybe it's the slight crunch it offers, or the subtle nutty flavour it adds to a dish. Or maybe it's the protein.

One of the reasons I've been eating so much quinoa, aside from appeasing my curiosity and finding that I really like it, is that's very high in protein. This is always good news when you're a vegetarian, and even better when you find out that it's a complete protein. For those who don't know, a complete protein contains all the essential amino acids in the desired amounts for growth and health, etc., and so forth. If you know your protein sources, you'll know that most complete proteins come from animal sources, whether that be meat, eggs, milk, or what have you. Very few vegetables, grains, or legumes contain the correct proportions of amino acids to qualify. But quinoa is one of them. (So is soy, for anyone interested). On top of that it's high in iron, calcium, and fibre. 

And did I mention that it's low fat and gluten free?

Now that I've bored you with the science, let me bore you with a bit of history. Quinoa was one of the staple foods of the Inca of South America. It's especially suited for growth in that climate, with much of the quinoa we eat today coming from Peru. The Inca held quinoa as sacred and called it the "mother of all grains" or chisaya mama. It's still a staple food in a number of South American countries including Bolivia and Ecuador.

Like all my best-loved foods, quinoa is very versatile. It can be used as a side dish, in salads, and even in baked goods. It's also really easy to cook. I'm going to send you over to the Kitchn for cooking instructions, because not only is it the best set of instructions for cooking quinoa that I've come across, they also have a lot of information about quinoa and accompanying recipes.

The first recipe that got me hooked was this salad, containing the asparagus I promised you in my last post. 

Asparagus, Tomato, and Quinoa Salad

1 cup uncooked quinoa
1 bunch asparagus
1 cup halved cherry or grape tomatoes
1/4 cup chopped fresh basil
goat cheese

Dressing

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 tbsp red wine vinegar
1/4 tsp each salt and pepper

Cook the quinoa according the directions from the site linked above. I would recommend rinsing the quinoa first. It really does make a difference. As someone notorious for skipping steps, I would not recommend skipping that one.

Remove tough ends of the asparagus, blanch in boiling water for about 1 minute, and tranfer to an ice water bath to stop cooking. While that cools, whisk together dressing ingredients. 

Toss together cooled quinoa, asparagus (roughly chopped), tomatoes, and basil. Stir in dressing until evenly coated. 

And that's it. It keeps well in fridge. As you can see from the picture, I added chickpeas to mine to give it a little more substance as a meal. I also left out the basil, though that was more due to forgetfulness than anything else. I've made it a couple times without the dressing, and it's delicious either way. If you use soup stock to cook your quinoa it adds enough extra flavour to merit skipping the dressing. I also substituted diced red pepper for the cherry tomatoes, because try as I might, I really don't like tomatoes. 

This next dish was something I threw together one night for dinner. I had red pepper left over from the salad, as well as chickpeas, and a zucchini in the vegetable drawer. I sliced and halved the zucchini, chopped the red pepper, and sauteed them with some olive oil and rosemary.

Start the red pepper first, as it will take longer to cook, and add the chickpeas and quinoa to the skillet at the end to warm everything through.

And dinner is served. It would make an excellent side to meat or fish as well, if you want to add some animal protein to your meal. 

Of course you could use any vegetables you like, or black beans instead of chickpeas.

It's one of my new favourite things to eat, especially when I'm in a pinch for something quick. I like to make a pot of quinoa and keep it in the fridge so I can add whatever I want when I feel like it. 

Apparently the UN has declared 2013 the year of quinoa, whatever that means. So, you know, jump on the band wagon. It's pretty great over here. Delicious and nutritious.

Summer Vegetables

The last couple days have been absolutely gorgeous. It's my ideal weather really. Some may find it a little on the cool side, but I think it's perfect. Not so hot that it's unbearable, but it's warm. With a cool breeze if the sun starts to beat down a little too strongly. 

The best part about the warmer weather though is the fresh produce. Winter produce always tastes a little...boring. You can tell it came from far away. It doesn't have the fullness of flavour that comes from something that's in season. Most notable right now as far as seasonable vegetables are concerned is the asparagus. You can find it just about everywhere and I'd recommend getting it while it's in season. It really does taste so much better that way. 

And it's so easy to prepare: grill it on the barbecue, broil it with a drizzle of olive oil and salt and pepper or a squeeze of lemon juice, or blanch it and throw it over pasta, quinoa, lettuce. The possibilities are endless.

Now, I feel like all this talk of asparagus might be midleading. I'm not actually going to give you a recipe for asparagus (although I do have one that I'll share at a later date). This one actually involves red bell pepper and zucchini (one of my other favourite summer vegetables), though I mention asparagus because it would work just as well and I think you should try it.

I was rather tired one night and didn't want to put that much effort into my dinner. Honestly, that's me most nights and simple is always the best bet. I had a zucchini, half a red bell pepper, some goat's cheese, and black beans. I diced and sauteed what I needed of the vegetables, tossed the black beans in at the end to warm them up, and then threw the whole thing over spaghetti. I crumbled the goat's cheese on top and just like that I had dinner.

It was delicious. Fresh and filling and just what I needed that night. I've made several slightly different iterations of this recipe over the last two weeks, sometimes without the beans, sometimes with chickpeas; once over gnocchi instead of spaghetti and once with tomato sauce thrown into the mix. The point is: it's very versatile. Mushrooms would make a nice addition. You could throw in chicken or tofu if you want something a bit meatier than beans for protein.

About beans though. I've been throwing them over everything from pasta to salad to quinoa. I was never one to eat a lot of meat to begin with. I find cooking it a pain and frankly it's expensive. However, since going the more or less vegetarian route, since applying that label to my diet, I've been more conscious of getting my protein. And beans are a great way to do that. You can add them to almost everything and they are delicious. I would eat most of them right out of the can.

Anyway, I feel like this post might be a little disjointed. I apologize for that, my brain feels a little all over the place right now. The point of all this is that it's summer, and the weather is nice, and the produce is delicious right now. It's really easy to throw together a good meal when you have such fresh vegetables available to you. Dinner doesn't have to be complicated, it doesn't have to be fancy, but it should taste good while it does it's job of nourishing you. 

The Tragedy of the Fallen Ice Cream

Oh dear. It's the middle of August already. Apologies. Time seems to be getting away from me this month. It's been busy and shows no sign of letting up. 

In any case I decided to treat myself to an ice cream cone today. Unfortunately, as I was walking the rest of the way home, the scoop toppled from the cone mid-lick and landed on the sidewalk. I stared at it for a moment, had a bit of a resigned chuckle with a man standing in his driveway who saw the whole thing, and then continued on my way. It's just been that kind of day.

 

Up until the Tragedy of The Fallen Ice Cream (to which the incident will now be referred), I was enjoying it immensely. I have the good fortune of living down the street from Xococava (Cava's confectionery counterpart), which not only boasts some of the best chocolate in the city, but also serves a mean scoop of homemade ice cream.

Today's treat was peach and sour cream, smooth and tangy with bits of real peach scattered throughout. It was perfect for a hot day, especially during a month that so readily calls to mind the fresh flavour of peaches. 

Now I'm lamenting that fallen scoop all over again.

Anyway, I've been wanting to talk about Xococava's ice cream for a while now and, tragic mishaps aside, this seemed like a good opportunity. 

They have a substantial variety of both ice cream and sorbet that changes on a seasonal basis. The flavours are written on a chalk board behind the counter on the far right. If you have trouble choosing (and I almost guarantee you will), you can ask to sample some. And you'll likely want to make sure you're going to enjoy it at $4.20 for a small cone. So it's a little on the pricier side, but I promise it's worth it. And as you can see from the above picture, small is still pretty sizeable.

If peaches aren't your thing I'd also recommend the hazelnut caramel. It tastes like a higher quality Fererro Rocher smoothed into ice cream. My god it's good. There's also a chocolate Guinness cashew ice cream that has a lot going for it. If you're hanging around midtown on a hot day (or even a cold one), it's definitely worth a stop.

1560 Yonge St (corner of Yonge and Heath, just north of St. Clair)
(416)-979-9916
Mon to Sat 10 am to 10 pm
Sun 10 am to 9 pm

An old standby

Today I'm going to tell you about couscous. It's easily one of my favourite things to eat. It's versatile, delicious, and--you guessed it--real easy. One of the greatest things about couscous, assuming you're using the instant variety typically found at your local grocery store, is it can be ready in less than ten minutes. 

Instant couscous is pre-steamed and dried and only requires boiling water. You pour 2/3 cup of couscous into every 1 cup of water, stir, cover, remove from heat, and let stand for five minutes. Voila! Couscous. Ready to eat once you fluff it with a fork.

Now couscous by itself, boiled in plain water, can be rather bland, but this is where its versatility comes in. You can cook it in vegetable stock, chicken stock, beef stock (any stock really), orange juice, and the list goes on. I think you could probably cook it in any potable liquid. It will take on the flavours it's cooked in.

Made of semolina, couscous is an important food in Algeria, Morocco, Tunisia, and Libya, where it is steamed, rather than boiled like the instant variety. In this case the vegetables and meat are cooked as a stew while the couscous sits in a steamer above it, absorbing the flavours. The pairing with meat and vegetables is common in the above countries, though in Egypt it is often served as dessert with sugar, cinnamon, raisins, nuts, and cream. It also makes a great salad.

Like I said: versatile.

Unfortunately I don't have any pictures for you today. The salad I made was eaten so quickly that by the time I remembered to take one, it was gone. This salad is perfect in the summer when it's too hot to really cook anything, and you're looking for something light. It's made with oranges which serves to add a tangy, refreshing quality to it.

I wish I had a more clear-cut recipe for you, but it's one of those things that I kind of just throw together with whatever I happen to have lying around. So I'll give you my best estimates, but just know that you should adjust them however you see fit. The dressing is more accurate.

Orange Couscous Salad

2/3 cup couscous, uncooked
1 cup chicken stock

1 can mandarin oranges or 1 fresh orange
1 or 2 large carrots, grated
1/2 cup slivered almonds
2/3 cup dried raisins or cranberries

Dressing

1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 tbsp orange juice
1 tbsp olive or vegetable oil
1 tbsp water
1/2 tbsp sugar
1/2 tbsp minced gingerroot
1/8 tsp ground cumin
salt and pepper to taste

Cook couscous according to directions on the box. If the ratios are different than what I listed above, use those ones.

Toss cooked couscous with oranges, grated carrots, almonds, and cranberries.

Whisk together all ingredients for dressing and add to salad. The recipe may provide more dressing than you need, so add a little at a time to ensure you don't drown your salad. It should coat it and add flavour, not turn it into soup. 

And that's it. Easier than pie. Change up any of the elements as you will. Try pine nuts or currants. Oftentimes I'm missing one of the ingredients above so I just make it without. It'll taste good anyway.

As for other recipes, there are plenty of them out there, so take a look around. It's great in place of rice or pasta with a meal. As for me I think I'd like to check out that Egyptian dessert couscous. I'll let you know if I find something worth sharing.

Monthly Moonshine: It's Pimm's O'Clock!

The first time I had Pimm's I was, appropriately, in London. I was there with my family and we'd just had a whirlwind of a day that involved Hyde Park, the Tower of London, and Buckingham Palace. We were tired, we were hungry, we were hot, and we were desperately in need of a drink. After some squabbling we ended up at a little pub where we ordered fish and chips. 

Normally I'm the type to order beer, especially at a pub in London, but neither my mom nor my sister drank beer at the time so they asked the waiter what else he might recommend. He suggested Pimm's No.1 Cup. He was then met with looks of mild confusion.

Until this point I had gone through life tragically unaware that Pimm's existed. He went on to explain that it was a mild summer drink, typically British and kind of like punch, made with a gin-based liqueur, lemonade and various fruits. We figured "When in London..." and gave it a try. And we were truly not disappointed.

Pimm's was created in London in the 1840s by James Pimm. He owned an oyster bar in the city and developed the drink as a more palatable form of gin, which could be sipped rather than knocked back like a shot. The gin is sweetened and flavoured with liqueurs and fruit extracts, giving it its dark amber colour. The recipe is closely guarded and allegedly only known to six people. At least that's what they claim on the back of the bottle. 

It is truly the perfect summer drink, especially if you don't like beer and you're not partial to the overly sweet Mike's Hard style of coolers. Pimm's Original, the recipe featured on the homepage of their website, is made up of three parts lemonade, one part Pimm's No.1 Cup, strawberries, cucumber, orange, and mint. Mix it all together, pour it over ice, and there you have it. It's commonly served in a jug, making it perfect for backyard barbecues and summer parties.

There is a subtle bitterness underlying its sweetness and the mint acts as a natural coolant that cuts through the medley of flavours to leave you with a fresh, almost earthy taste. The more you let it sit, the more the flavours mingle together lending a complexity that no run-of-the-mill punch could accomplish. 

Traditionally, Pimm's is made with English-style lemonade, which is clear and carbonated, but it's not uncommon for people to substitute ginger ale. The herb borage was often used instead of mint in the drink's earliest incarnation, as it has similar cooling properties and a cucumber-like flavour. However, due to the fact that mint is a more common herb it has come to replace it as standard.  

For me, Pimm's is summer in a glass. It tastes like slipping into the cool water of a pool on the hottest day of the year. It evokes lazy summer afternoons basking outside as the heat of the sun hangs around you, your glass dripping a ring of condensation on the table, with the lingering scent of summer flowers and freshly cut grass heavy in the air. And it's promising to be a long beautiful summer, so grab a bottle and sink in.

Simple Salads

Once upon a time I hated broccoli. Emphatically. I used to wonder what ever possessed anyone to eat it in the first place, let alone have them coming back for more. I don't hate broccoli anymore, though I couldn't tell you what changed my mind, couldn't tell you the precise moment of epiphany that lead to my current, ardent love for broccoli.

I can tell you how to make the broccoli salad that I made yesterday. Lucky for me, and for you if you make it, broccoli salad is stupidly easy. 

You will need the following:
- broccoli, broken into bite-sized pieces
- bacon, cooked and crispy, also broken into bite-sized pieces
- sesame seeds

For the dressing:
1 cup of mayonnaise
1/4 cup sugar
1 tbsp vinegar

Toss the broccoli with the bacon bits and sesame seeds. I used a bunch of broccoli the size of the bundles you can buy at the grocery store. I am going to guess that I used about 2 tbsp of sesame seeds. What I actually did was sprinkle sesame seeds on the broccoli until I thought there was enough. I recommend you do the same.

As for the dressing, mix it all together and toss it into the salad. Use just enough to coat everything. The above recipe was more than I needed, so be careful not to drown your salad in a sea of mayonnaise. 

I should probably tell you that the measurements given in the above recipe are very rough. By which I mean I didn't actually measure when I made my dressing, much like the sesame seeds. Why? you ask. Well. I'm lazy. One of these days you'll wander over to this blog and find I've renamed it. Lazy Girl in the Kitchen maybe, Adventures in cutting culinary corners. It's even alliterative. 

But that's off topic. The point is this salad is so easy and so delicious and you should go make it right now. Throw in some dried cranberries or toasted slivered almonds if you feel like it. What are you waiting for?

And red all over

This is a post about strawberries. Specifically, Ontario strawberries. Because it's that time of year again, when the strawberries are fresh and out to ruin you for all other strawberries. 

I adore summer strawberries. The ones that are a little bit on the smaller side, soft and ripe and dripping with juice. Red all the way through. After a winter of strawberries that crunch and leave you with a white, tasteless interior, these ones are nothing short of divine.

Their sweetness is fuller, lingering on your tongue with tangy under-notes, begging you to eat just one more. I like them best when they're on the cusp of being overripe. Maybe there's a small bruise on one side, marred so that other people pass it over for a prettier one. But that's when they're at their best, their sweetest, their most flavourful. And you can taste an earthiness underneath it all, something of the soil they were grown in, something of the spring rains that coaxed them into being.

This is the way strawberries were always supposed to taste. Of early summer's gentle warmth and sun-drenched days that never seem to end.

I scream, you scream

The other day while I was perusing Pinterest (as one is wont to do when there are countless other things that need to be done), I came across a recipe for single ingredient banana "ice cream". It is literally made with pureed frozen bananas and nothing else. Well, okay, with peanut butter and cocoa powder as well, if you choose to amp it up a bit, but you don't need to add those.

'What is this?' I thought. 'Ice cream made with just bananas? Guilt-free ice cream???' 

Oh yeah. 

And since it's just about the easiest thing in the world to make (does it even merit the word 'recipe'?) I tried it as soon as possible. And you know what? It's delicious! Definitely comparable to ice cream. The texture is a bit more gooey, for lack of a better word, but not in an off-putting way, and I'm nearly positive a kid wouldn't know the difference.

Let your bananas get just a bit spotty, but not so ripe that they're brown. Chop them (I used four here) and then freeze for about a couple hours. Do chop them; trying to puree a whole frozen banana will not be fun.

Now, if your blender is anything like mine (ie. the worst appliance known to mankind) I would suggest using a food processor. Actually, I suggest using a food processor anyway, I just don't have one. I'm going to have to rectify that soon so I can make endless batches of this without undue frustration. (Really, it's the worst.)

Once it's smooth and whipped up, and you've scraped the sides down ad infinitum, toss in some peanut butter and cocoa powder. Or you could just eat it as is. It's also good as plain banana, but I couldn't resist the temptation of chocolate and peanut butter. Plus, wouldn't you love to be getting potassium and protein out of your dessert?
 

Anyway, I just eye-balled the amount of peanut butter and cocoa powder, but if you follow the link at the beginning of the post, you'll get precise measurements.

It has something of a soft-serve consistency when it comes out of the blender. It's tasty just like that, and definitely easier to scoop, but four bananas worth of 'ice cream' is a bit much for one person, so you'll likely want to freeze the rest. Let it sit out a bit before scooping it because it's going to be pretty solid. Or if you're impatient, like me, just run your ice cream scoop under hot water.
 

I was actually really surprised by this. I assumed it would be good, but oh man, its similarity to ice cream is impressive. And you could eat this for breakfast, as part of your lunch, as a post-workout snack, because you're really just chowing down on some bananas. 

I still can't wrap my mind around it. This might take some time. And some different combinations: maybe add some strawberries; mangoes; coconut milk; orange juice; mix in some nuts or chocolate. This is definitely going to require an investment in a food processor.

Coffee, Vietnamese style

Whenever the weather starts to get warm, I always find myself in a bit of a conundrum with my morning coffee. Though the truly hot weather hasn't hit yet (and hopefully won't until June), there are still a few days where I don't want to be drinking a cup of hot coffee. There's nothing less desirable than sweating profusely over your breakfast because you need your caffeine fix.

This is why I'm here to tell you about Vietnamese coffee. Though you can drink it hot, it's meant to be served over ice. And it's so, so good. Sweetened with condensed milk and made as a single serving, it's perfect for a hot summer day. And you won't have to buy expensive iced drinks from Starbucks now.

First, you need some fairly specific equipment. I was lucky enough to receive all of mine for Christmas, but I'm told you can get it all in Chinatown. The Vietnamese filter has been disassembled in the picture below so you can see all it's parts. Then you need some Vietnamese coffee, such Trung Nguyen.

Fill the filter with coffee until it reaches the indented rim that runs along the inside of the filter. I use about 3 rounded teaspoons. Then screw on the removable part of the filter tightening enough that the water doesn't run through too quickly. It should be snug, but not so tight that you can't turn it any further. Pour some condensed milk into the bottom of a glass. Then boil some water (or, you know, have it boiling while you're getting the glass and coffee ready).

Place the filter over the glass with condensed milk. Pour about a centimeter of water into the filter and wait about 20 seconds. If the coffee is dripping through (not pouring through) then fill the filter to the top with water and place the lid on top. If you find that the coffee is not dripping through or is filtering through too quickly, loosen or tighten it accordingly.

Once all the water has filtered through, remove the filter. If you want to drink it hot, top it off with some more hot water. I like to stir it so the condensed milk is evenly distributed. Other people like to save it for the end. If you want it iced, stir it up and pour it into a glass over ice. Again, you don't have to stir it first, but I think it tastes better all mixed in. Not too sweet and kind of rich and chocolatey.
This is by no means the final word on Vietnamese coffee. In fact it was largely trial and error aided by the internet. But it really is very easy. The only problem is if you want another cup you have to go through the whole process again. But I think it's worth it. So happy warm weather! And if anyone has their own tips for Vietnamese coffee, let me know.

Vacations and the Last Days of Summer

Hello friends! Hello September!

I have lots of pictures for you today, having just gotten back from Portland, Maine. No pictures of the beach just yet, since I went old school and used my film camera for those. But I have lots of pictures of the food I ate.

It was the perfect way to spend the last days of summer. On the beach with a book, eating good food and doing absolutely nothing else. We stayed at Inn by the Sea, which is not only located right on the beach, but has the added bonus of housing an awesome restaurant.

This is a picture of our wine the first night we were there. That's my sister's crazy eye behind the bottle.

And the amuse bouche. I love amuse bouche. It sounds so fun, so quaint and French. This particular one was a ginger carrot soup. It was lovely. Lightly spicy with toasted coconut sprinkled on top. And I don't even like coconut.

The focaccia was exactly as it should be. Slightly crisped up and very subtly salted. Served with olive oil and ground pepper. I had to exercise great self control not to eat the whole basket of it myself.

Then came the seafood and lobster paella. It had been far too long since I'd eaten lobster. I'm really picky when it comes to lobster so I tend to only eat it when I'm on the east coast. Since I haven't been down east for a while my consumption of lobster has dropped drastically. I'd forgotten how much I missed it. The mussels and clams were delicious as well, but oh the lobster. I have no words for describing it, except that it's all I want to eat for the rest of my life.

For dessert we had blueberry shortcake. That's my mom's fork going in for a bite there. It was accompanied by an absolutely divine blueberry sorbet. Both were made with wild blueberries (from Maine), so I'm sure you know how I feel about it. This is how blueberries were always supposed to taste.

Now I have two words for you: Eggs Benedict. I love eggs Benedict. I mean truly love them. They represent everything that is wonderful about eggs. Poached to perfection, sitting on top of a salty piece of Canadian bacon, and an English muffin (made fresh in house). Of course the clincher is the hollandaise sauce. Sometimes I am disappointed when I order eggs Benedict, by mediocre hollandaise. Not this time. It was smooth and creamy, with that slight tang that makes it so good. One of these days I'll try my hand at hollandaise sauce, but for now I am content with ordering it at nice restaurants.

This lovely beverage is called a Sunset Martini. So called because of the subtle gradation of colour from red to orange. It was a mixture of orange juice, pineapple juice, vodka, and grenadine. As soon as I figure out the perfect ratio I'll let you know. It tasted like summer, citrusy and sweet, it tickled my tongue without being cloying.

This particular amuse bouche consisted of yellow watermelon topped with feta and a drizzle of balsamic. So simple, yet so effective.

This next one was actually ordered by my mom and sister. It was a mushroom tart, topped with arugula. And it. Was. Good. It makes all other mushroom tarts look like amateurs. Earthy mushrooms, complimented by nutty arugula and the slight tang of goat's cheese. And that balsamic drizzle to tie it all together. I'll have to see if I can recreate this one as well.

Butter poached lobster with gnocchi. Because I couldn't get enough lobster. Really I don't think there's any way this dish could have gone wrong. It's lobster poached in butter. And can you ever go wrong with butter?

These were my mom's scallops, which I had to take a picture of because it was one of the biggest scallops I'd ever seen. Again, scallops are something I only eat when I'm down east because I find they have a tendency to be rubbery sometimes. Not these ones. These were the definition of melt in your mouth scallops.

I was so taken by this buttermilk panna cotta that I had all but finished it before I remembered to take a picture. Needless to say it was delicious. Silky and creamy and sweet. It was also topped with roasted strawberries (yum!)

We also tried a peach sorbet, which I don't have a picture of. It was spiced with something, but when I tried to ask what it was, they told me it was just peaches, and all the regular ingredients in ice cream. I don't believe it for a second. So now I'm on a mission to replicate this peach sorbet. I'm starting with ginger and allspice, maybe cardamom. I'll let you know when I figure it out.

All food aside, the vacation was exactly what I needed. Nothing to do, no one to see, nowhere to be except the beach. I could get used to that.

But it's back to school on Tuesday. Time to usher in the fall and all the glorious food that goes along with it. Time for apple crisps, and pumpkin pie, apple stuffed pork, and cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, and turkey dressing. Bring on autumn. It is my favourite season after all. And I'm ready for the sweater weather and all the warming comfort food that goes along with it.

Blueberries Worth Mentioning

This is going to be short and sweet. I just needed to talk about these blueberries. It's been a while since I've had wild blueberries. So long, in fact, that I had begun to believe they were just like ordinary blueberries, except smaller. Not the case. At all. They are sweeter in a more subtle way, with a fuller, more rounded flavour.

I was casually making a spinach salad and decided to toss in some blueberries. I popped a couple in my mouth and they burst into deliciousness between my teeth. I stopped abruptly, all thoughts of the salad gone from my mind. I had forgotten blueberries could taste this good. I proceeded to eat an entire handful before remembering my salad.

They became the staple in my yogurt parfait the past few days. And this morning I left out the granola entirely (not just because my sister ate the last of it). Sadly I finished off the remainder of the berries. I'll have to buy more tomorrow. So I can eat as many of these blueberries as I can before the summer's out. I recommend you do the same.

Peachy Keen

"The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning."
-Tuck Everlasting, Natlie Babbitt

August always reminds me of Tuck Everlasting and that first opening sentence. It is a sultry month, and the word itself seems weighed down by the humidity that accompanies it. August. It sounds thick and heavy, barely ruffled by a breeze. It sounds like the electric buzz of cicadas as they hum in the trees. It sounds like a bonfire, like the crack of ice cubes in a cold drink, like stillness. And it tastes like peaches.

In fact the peaches were early this year. Truthfully, peaches are far from being my favourite fruit, but I saw them in the store, looking up at me from their basket, only $2.99. How could I resist? Sixteen peaches for only $2.99 is hard to pass up. I've eaten a fair few already on their own. Their softly fuzzy skin giving way to teeth with an almost inaudible crunch. Juicy and sweet, with only the slightest tang nipping playfully at the edges of your tongue.

But sixteen peaches is a lot for one person. So I needed more ways to eat them. They have served as a nice accompaniment to arugula salad, with goat cheese and pecans. Then my mom gave me a recipe for peach pancakes. They served as my lunch today.

I'll admit. They're not pretty. It turns out making pretty pancakes is not my strong suit. They always come out lumpy and deformed. Like amoebas. I had a lovely image in my mind. Perfect, round pancakes stacked like Pisa on my plate. Alas, it was not to be. My first attempt at flipping one resulted in this:

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that is a pancake. Not an omelet. Though it bears uncanny resemblance to one. In any case they still tasted good. Fluffy and light, as pancakes should be, with cornmeal added for colour and texture. (Where would we be without cornmeal? It's so versatile) And delicious chunks of peaches. Softened by the heat, their sweetness heightened, the corners that poked from the batter lightly caramelized. They burst into summer between your teeth, surrounded by tender pancake.

Perhaps you will have more luck improving their appearance.

Cornmeal Peach Pancakes
From Anne Lindsay

3/4 cup cornmeal
3/4 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1 tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
2 eggs
2 cups milk
2 tbsp vegetable oil
1 1/2 cups chopped peaches

Mix the cornmeal, flours, sugar, baking powder, and baking soda.
Beat eggs until light and stir in milk and oil. Pour into flour mixture. Add peaches and stir until just incorporated.
Heat skillet over medium heat, grease with butter, and cook the pancakes until the batter bubbles on the surface. Flip and cook until golden brown.

I cut this recipe in half and it was still way too much for me to eat on my own. Also, I had no whole wheat flour, so I just used all purpose. They turned out fine, though I feel the whole wheat would serve to round out the flavour more fully.

On an separate note, I made more strawberry soup and froze it in popsicle molds. They are delicious. It's slightly tangier when frozen. I didn't strain out the seeds, but I think I might next time.

So here's to popsicles, and peaches, and a hot, sultry August.

Fried Green Tomatoes

No your eyes do not deceive you. This is in fact my second post in as many days. I made fried green tomatoes yesterday and they insisted on being mentioned. It was as though they were talking to me from the pan. Sizzling up at me, saying, "Don't forget about us."

How could I really? I love fried green tomatoes. I used to think my mom was a little weird for eating fried green tomatoes. They look a little unnatural. Firstly because my majority experience with tomatoes is with red ones. Second because once you dredge them in flour and brown them up in a pan they look a little rancid. Oh, but they're delicious!

Once you taste them, the brownish colouring they acquire in the pan will be absolutely tantalizing. And the smell. Honestly I think just about anything frying in a pan will smell good. For instance I don't really like onions, but when I smell them frying I swear I could eat them all. Fried green tomatoes smell like summer.

These particular ones came form my mom's garden and they were the best green tomatoes I've had in a while. This may be because I haven't had any since last summer, but truly these are some delicious tomatoes. Firm enough not to go to mush in the pan, with just enough sweetness to cut any bitterness.

Fried green tomatoes are perfect for a quick summer lunch or snack because they're almost laughably easy to make. No one wants to labour over food when it's hot outside. You can eat them on their own, as I usually do, but I imagine they would also be delicious on a sandwich, or tossed with pasta. I've been drooling over the thought of them on an English muffin topped with a poached egg. One of these mornings when I have time for a proper breakfast I'll give it a try.

For now it's your turn to experiment with them. Mix one part flour and one part cornmeal, add salt and pepper to taste. I'm not going to give you exact measurements because I never measure when I make these and how much you need really depends on how many tomatoes you're frying. Slice your tomatoes into rounds and coat both sides of the slice with your flour mixture.

Melt butter in a pan over medium heat and place the slices so they're not overlapping. After a couple minutes flip them with a fork. They should be nicely browned. A couple more minutes and ta-da! Fried green tomatoes. Repeat the process with the rest of the tomato slices.

The cornmeal is a wonderful addition that my mom discovered a couple years ago. It adds complexity of flavour and a nice texture contrast. If you don't have cornmeal you can absolutely make them with just flour, salt, and pepper. They'll still taste good, but I highly recommend the cornmeal. It's well worth the purchase and you can always use the rest of it for cornbread.

It's difficult to fully explain what fried green tomatoes taste like. I can't quite put my finger on it. There's something slightly tangy about them. Something of under-ripe fruit. Savory with the tiniest hint of sweetness. You'll just have to make them yourself to understand. They'll sizzle up at from the pan and say, "You won't be able to forget us anytime soon."

Summer in a Bowl

So it has been exactly nine days since my last post, which is quite a few more days than I intended. I'm going to blame the heat and humidity. The mere thought of cooking in this weather is enough to make me want to lie down in the shade somewhere and fall asleep until I'm coaxed into awakeness by a nice cool breeze, or maybe, if I'm lucky, waves crashing on a beach. But as that's not going to happen anytime soon, I'll have to make do with some cool summer treats.

First on the list: strawberry soup. Usually the first reaction people have to strawberry soup is skepticism. The only fruit that frequently makes it into soup form is the tomato. And for the most part that's treated like a vegetable. But I promise that you will not be disappointed by strawberry soup.

I only very vaguely remember the first time I had strawberry soup. I can't quite remember where I was, but we were out for dinner somewhere, I feel like it was at a hotel. It was definitely summer. I wasn't very old, and as such I met the soup with the same skepticism I have encountered in other people. But it dissipated at the first mouthful. My mom found this recipe some time after that and she has been making it ever since.

I feel bad about not having talked much about my mom until now. Especially since she has been the source of so much wonderful food in my life. I'm going to blame the heat again for this one. She tends not to cook as much in the summer, for the same reasons I don't. It's just too hot. So I don't have as many summer recipes of hers to share. But this one needs to be shared. It's the perfect way to use up your fresh strawberries.

This soup is deliciously sweet, with a subtle tangy undertone provided by the orange juice. Its bright freshness is perfect for a light lunch or snack. It truly is summer in a bowl. It dances across your taste buds like a light breeze, carrying with it slightly floral notes and memories of lazy summer afternoons. On top of all that it is blissfully easy to make and, best part of all, no stove or oven required. So even though it will be gone far sooner that you'd like, you can take comfort in the fact that whipping up another batch will be a snap.

Mom's Strawberry Soup

2 pints strawberries
2 cups plain yogurt
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup orange juice
1/2 water
1/8 tsp ground cardamom

Chop the strawberries and combine them with everything else in a blender. Puree until smooth. Chill in the fridge and enjoy!

Canada Day

There's nothing quite like a picnic. It's such a perfect combination of everything I love: food, friends, and the outdoors. I mean, really, what could be better than eating delicious food while spending time with friends as a cool breeze dances through your hair?

Yesterday was the second of two glorious days I had off of work (a rarity in my busy summer schedule) and in celebration of Canada Day I spent it on a picnic with some friends I hadn't seen in far too long. The weather was perfect. It was what my family and I have taken to calling 'an east coast day.' Warm when the sun is out, cool as the clouds drift across the sky, with a breeze to temper the heat. Having spent numerous summer vacations in New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and PEI, I've grown to love the breeze that always seems to blow in from the ocean, never allowing the temperature to remain too hot for too long. So even though I sustained a minor sunburn, it was fantastic.

But enough about the weather...this is really about the food. Originally I had intended to make some sandwiches as well as baked goods, because what is a picnic without sandwiches? I got the recipe from Anna Olson. Proscuitto, pear, and fig, on a baguette with blue cheese and Dijon mustard. I was extremely excited about this sandwich. Unfortunately I planned to run to the grocery store that morning forgetting that it was Canada Day and everything was closed. So no sandwiches.

Luckily I had baked enough to make up for the lack of sandwiches. The first being these delicious lemon thumbprint cookies (above). They have a density almost like shortbread which contrasts wonderfully with the blueberry jam filling. I adore blueberry and lemon together. The tangy lemon acts as a perfect foil for the sweet blueberries. And blueberries are oh so summery.

I also baked farm cakes, always a sure thing, which are essentially chocolate cupcakes with a cream cheese filling. I feel a little guilty for not divulging this recipe at present, but I'm going to save it for a later date. Today is not about the recipes, rather about good times with friends.

I will, however, give you the recipe for my friend Joanna's pasta salad just as soon as I get my hands on it. She made it specifically at the request of my friend Dayna who had the privilege of tasting it at an earlier occasion. And it is good pasta salad. It's fairly simple. Just pasta, some vegetables and a garlicky vinaigrette, but it is also everything pasta salad should be. It hits the spot and it is the perfect combination of carbs and veggies. It's also very versatile. Apparently Joanna doesn't really have a recipe. She sort of makes it up as she goes, seizes whatever vegetables she happens to have in the fridge and tosses them with pasta, olive oil, balsamic vinegar and garlic. From the ingredients alone you can probably make your own version.

It was a perfect day really. At least it was everything I needed it to be. Relaxing and filled with good conversation (and a healthy dose of silliness). I highly recommend going on a picnic before the summer's out. You have a couple months. Bake some cookies, whip up a pasta salad, and definitely make some sandwiches. Don't forget some good iced tea or lemonade. And a frisbee (or a small squishy yellow football with suffice). We finished the day with fireworks, which never cease to amaze me. I just love that no matter what is happening in the world, people can still be fascinated by the simple beauty of exploding lights in a night sky.

A Surplus of Food

This weekend my parents are going to Newfoundland. I am exceedingly jealous. I've wanted to go to Newfoundland for ages. Not only do they get to visit this beautiful province, a province with icebergs and old viking settlements, rife with its own unique culture and traditions, they get to go to something called a 'kitchen party.' I'm not really sure what this is, though they did explain it to me, but as far as I'm concerned any party that involves being in the kitchen is a good thing. Nothing but good food could abound.

Jealousy aside, they left me their surplus of perishable foods. Which leads me to today's subject: roasted tomatoes. Ever since setting eyes on this month's cover of Saveur magazine, I've been seduced by the prospect of roasted tomatoes. And yesterday I found myself with four ripe, plump tomatoes. Generally I don't really like tomatoes, so I don't buy them. But something about those tomatoes, sitting there on the magazine cover, drizzled with olive oil, their skins split open to reveal the juicy red fruit beneath, surrounded by cloves of garlic and sprigs of thyme. I was consumed by desire. I needed those tomatoes.

So today I popped them in the oven. There's not really a recipe to give you. I had four tomatoes, I put them in a pan with four whole cloves of garlic, drizzled them with a generous amount of olive oil, and seasoned them with a sprinkling of salt and herbes de provence. Then I roasted them in a 200F oven for 1 1/2 hours. The aroma was divine. It more than made up for the fact that the oven turned my apartment into a sauna.

I ate one of them with pasta and goat's cheese for dinner. It was delicious. The juices ran everywhere, sweet, offset by the salt and herbs, with just a subtle hint of garlic. The time in the oven alters them, deepens their flavour, transforms them from a humble fruit into something almost rich.

I am in love with roasted tomatoes. I am convinced that I could eat them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I may do just that. Breakfast: poached eggs on an English muffin topped with a roasted tomato. Lunch: Caesar salad topped with a chopped roasted tomato. Dinner: fried halibut with a puree of roast tomatoes. The goat's cheese pairs wonderfully with them, but I'll likely just eat the rest of them on their own. Reheat them in the oven and just dig in. But bread will be necessary for mopping up the excess juice. I can't let even one delicious drop go to waste.

Experiments

I come to you today with a story of success and a story of, well, not failure, but definitely less than success. I'll start with the latter as it is more amusing and, for reasons that will soon be obvious, you won't be getting a recipe for it.

It was one of those days where I had very little in my fridge and I wanted to use up what I had before buying a bunch of new produce. I had a few scallions and that was pretty much it for the way of dinner. I figured I could make a fairly decent sauce using them. I could cook them out a bit, throw in some white wine, a dash of cream, and some fennel seeds just for interest. Easy.

I wanted chicken. But there were leftover fish fillets in my freezer so those went into the pan. I chopped the scallions and threw them in once the fish came out. I opened the fridge to grab the white wine. There was none. Odd, because there normally is. So I used water...yes, water. I figured the cream could redeem it. If only I'd had cream. Right. So milk it is. Then the fennel seeds. Needless to say it didn't work out so well. Yes, I had a sauce, but it's flavour was, well mostly of onions. Which incidentally I don't even like that much. It wasn't terrible, but I would never eat it again. This was very much a lesson in making sure I have ingredients before I start making something. Oh well. Live and learn.

But today I made a salad. A lovely salad. I had half a cucumber and an apple in the fridge so I figured I could make a half-way decent salad with a nice vinaigrette. It turned out so much better than I expected. Now this may be relative to the aforementioned near disaster, but I think you'll like it. It's light, fresh, and summery (as promised). Before beginning I did run down the road to the grocery store to grab some arugula. What resulted was a delightful combination of nutty arugula, sweet crisp apples, cucumber, pecans, and a balsamic vinaigrette with mustard, tahini, and honey.

Arugula and Apple Salad with Honey and Mustard Vinaigrette

Handful of arugula
1 apple
1/2 cucumber
2 tsp lemon juice
1/4 cup chopped pecans

1/4 cup olive oil
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
2 tsp honey
1 tsp dijon mustard
1 tsp tahini
pinch of cardamom

1. Cut the apple and cucumber into matchsticks. Toss in lemon juice. Arrange over arugula.
2. Combine ingredients for vinaigrette, whisking until smooth.
3. Drizzle over salad and top with pecans.
4. Enjoy!

Admittedly a salad is far more difficult to screw up than a fish sauce. But that's why I love salads. There is nothing wrong with simplicity and a salad is just that. There is almost always something hanging out in my fridge that could be turned into a salad. They beg for improvisation. So please play with this 'recipe.' Tweak the vinaigrette until it's exactly how you want it to taste. Use pear instead of apple...or Asian pear would be nice. The possibilities are truly endless. But this one's staying in my repertoire.