Food in a Hurry

Today I did a deep clean of my apartment. I dusted, I swept, I got down on my hands and knees and scrubbed the floor. It was slightly terrifying actually. Not the work involved, but the dirt that managed to accumulate between now and the last time I cleaned (a date too far back for me to admit to).

My bedroom was the most frightening. I didn't even know that a single room could hold that much dust. The floor was so covered in it that as I swept it leaped off the floor in torrents, much to my dismay, while still leaving a substantial amount in a pile. Needless to say I'm going to have to sweep again shortly when all the flying dust has decided to settle again. *Sigh*

There was also a rather horrifying moment when I thought I'd swept up several little black beetles (not something I want in my apartment). Luckily they turned out to be flax seeds. The fact that I even entertained the possibility of my apartment breeding bugs is a sign that I need to clean it more often. Lesson learned.

Anyway, the point of all this cleaning talk is that the whole process took about four hours during which time I needed to eat. If you're anything like me when you clean, you run on momentum for much of the process. Once I break my cleaning groove I don't really want to go back to it. I will find myriad other ways to put it off. Honestly the only thing that really induces me clean is the prospect of studying for exams. Otherwise I have to force myself.

Midway through my cleaning frenzy I was hungry. So I turned to my old standby for fast, decent food: eggs. I dearly love eggs. There are so many things you can do with them (just take a look at French cooking) and they are gloriously quick to make. You can literally whip up an omelet in about ten minutes. Soft boil eggs in about five.

Recently I had seen something else with a bit more substance though: baked eggs. I can't remember which magazine they were in, but they were nestled in ramekins with a bed of spinach and a layer of cheese and they looked delicious. I happened to have spinach in my fridge so I decided to give it a go.

I have one word for you: delicious. Now I also happen to love any kind of green. I can almost see my mom cringing at the thought of the spinach, wilted before being baked in the oven. She hates cooked spinach. Perhaps the reason I like it is that she never force-fed it to me as a child. Whatever the reason, I will eat any greens you put in front of me. Bring on the bok choy, the Swiss chard and rapini. Yum. My mom would disagree. If you happen to share her opinion, you may want to pass on this.

It's really easy to make and, as mentioned previously, really quick. I threw goat's cheese on top because it was what I had in my fridge, but by all means use any cheese you want. Cheddar would be divine.

Baked Eggs with Spinach

1 egg
1 clove of garlic, minced
1 tbsp olive oil
A good sized handful of spinach
1 tbsp of goat's cheese, crumbled

Heat the olive oil in a skillet over medium-low heat.
Cook the garlic until aromatic, about a minute or so.
Toss in the spinach and cook until wilted, another minute or so.
Place spinach in a small ramekin and make a well in the middle.
Crack the egg into the well and sprinkle cheese on top.
Bake in the oven under the broiler for about 10 minutes.

Other than the egg and the garlic these measurements are very rough. I didn't measure anything. To give you an idea about the amount of spinach, just keep in mind that it will shrink substantially when you wilt it. You'll probably need more than you think you do. The timing is also rough. I didn't pay much attention to how long it took to bake. I just pulled it out when it looked done. Really it depends how well done you want your egg to be.

It's really very tasty. I highly recommend it. Especially if your in a pinch and need to eat fast. Take a break from your study session or your cleaning spree, your latest novel or your work presentation, and have some eggs.

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.

Granola Parfait

I was toying with the idea of starting this post with an apology because it's been delayed far longer than I intended. However, it's going to get monotonous if I keep allowing ten days to lapse between posts. So I'll just say that I'll try my best to keep them coming, but I make no promises. Onward then.

Today I am addressing one of my favourite breakfast treats. Well, actually I'll eat at it just about any time of the day. It is the yogurt parfait.

First experienced at Starbucks with fruit and granola I was enamored by the first bite. Truly, fruit, yogurt, and granola belong together. The wonderful thing about it is its versatility. If you're like me, you're a bit of a creature of habit, but at the same time get bored by constant, unending repetition. Herein lies the secret of the yogurt parfait. You can change up the yogurt, you can change up the fruit, you can change up the granola, all the while keeping the essentials the same.

My personal favourite combination involves Greek style plain yogurt (the unsweetened kind), a good squirt of honey, homemade granola, and whatever fruit I have lying around (though I'm partial to strawberries). The tangy bite of the yogurt perks up your taste buds for the smoothly sweet honey. Strawberries add their own sweetness and occasional tang. Bananas are divinely sweet, lending a softness to both flavour and texture. Granola adds complexity and, of course, that ever satisfying crunch. But don't take my word for it. Try it. Change it.

Opt for plain yogurt sweetened with brown sugar (like my sister Laurelle). Toss in some fresh blueberries, or dried fruit in winter. Dried cherries are my absolute favourite in the dehydrated fruit department. And the granola. If you make it yourself there truly are unlimited ways of changing it. Even if you don't, store bought varieties abound. So take your pick.

Ever since making the granola we sell at work I have been preoccupied with the desire to make my own granola. I know. I don't think anything epitomizes hippie food more than granola, let alone homemade granola. But so be it. There are so many things you can do with it to make it your own. Change the nuts, change the seeds, change the spices, add whatever dried fruits you want. Seriously, you won't be disappointed.

Just to get you started here's a recipe that I adapted from Jamie Oliver. He calls it Honey Cherry Granola, but I left the cherries out since Laurelle didn't want them. Of course any dried fruit will do. So I'll just call it Honey Bunch Granola. Perhaps it's a bit too quaint, but I like it anyway.

Honey Bunch Granola
Adapted from Jamie Oliver

2 tbsp vegetable oil
6 tbsp honey
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 tsp ground cardamom
3 3/4 cups rolled oats
1/4 cup sliced almonds
1/4 cup chopped pecans
4 tbsp sunflower seeds
4 tbsp flax seeds

Preheat the oven to 300F.
Mix together the oil, honey, vanilla, and cardamom.
Toss everything else together, then add the liquids. It's easiest to use your hands to mix it together. This ensures that everything is well coated.
Spread the mix out on a baking sheet and bake for 25 minutes.

Jamie Oliver recommends 6 tbsp of cherries. You can, of course, add any dried fruit you like. Just make sure you add it to the granola after it comes out of the oven. Otherwise you'll end up with some seriously dried out fruit. The original recipe also calls for sesame seeds rather than flax seeds. I don't really care for sesame seeds so I switched it. The cardamom was my addition and can be substituted for cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, whatever you want really. The flavour of honey (buckwheat, wildflower, etc.) will also change the flavour of your granola, so experiment with that until you find one you like best.

Really just play with the recipe. And eat it any way you want. While I wholeheartedly recommend it with yogurt it would be delicious eaten with milk as a cereal. Or even just in handfuls as a snack. Let me know if you come up with any fantastic or inspired innovations of your own.

For breakfast, for lunch, for whenever: c'est parfait.

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."

Carrot Muffins

Success! Ladies and gentlemen the long awaited and previously promised carrot muffin recipe. This was a bit of a journey. It certainly was much more of a journey than I anticipated when I set out to make carrot muffins. To think this all stemmed from the fact that my mom gave me left over carrots before going to Newfoundland. Who knew?

I tend to not be a very patient person when it comes to baking, in that if a recipe fails, I tend to give up entirely on that item, not wanting to go through the process of finding a recipe that actually works. So the fact that I went through four (yes, four) different recipes until I got to this one is a step forward for me. And might I add totally worth it. Because these muffins are sooo good.

I began this recipe with skepticism. Admittedly I was beginning to give up on the carrot muffin. I had to buy more carrots for crying out loud. I went from trying to find a way to use extra carrots to having to buy more carrots. On the bright side I now have a fabulous carrot muffin recipe.

They are deliciously moist in the middle while the top crisps up beautifully around the edges just as a muffin top should. Their subtle sweetness is tempered by the hint of cinnamon and ginger, which with every few bites gives you a kick in the taste buds. And the crunch of pecans beautifully compliments the cakey texture. Just look at that crumb!

And that muffin top! I ask you, have you even seen a more beautiful top on a homemade muffin? I didn't think so. Just wait until you taste it! I'm planning on bringing them to work (as I do with much of my baked goods, otherwise they end up on my waist), but after devouring the first one I seriously questioned this intention. Really I want to keep them all for myself. But in the avoidance of ill-fitting clothes, I'm going to share. I may need to make a new batch tomorrow. These won't hang around long.

Carrot Muffins
Adapted from Anne Lindsay

1 1/2 cups flour
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar, packed
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp salt
2/3 cup canola oil
2 eggs
1 1/4 cups grated carrot
1/4 cup pineapple juice
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp honey
2/3 cup chopped pecans

Sift together the dry ingredients (everything up to and including the salt).
Mix together the rest of the ingredients except the pecans.
Add wet to dry and mix until moistened. Beat mixture for about 1 1/2 minutes.
Stir in the pecans.
Fill a dozen muffin cups not quite to the top and bake at 350F for 25 minutes.

To test the doneness of your muffins press you finger gently on the top the middle muffin (it will bake the slowest). When it bounces back, they're done.

Eat all on its own, or with butter. Or really any way you please. Share with friends if generosity strikes. You may not want to, but baked goods are really better shared, aren't they? That's what I'll tell myself. Even as I want to lock myself in a room with them and eat the whole dozen all in one go.

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!

World Cup Cookies

Hello again! I feel a bit bad because it's been a while since I posted anything. My original intention was to write about carrot muffins in my next post, but two recipes later I'm still not satisfied with the result. I have a couple more recipes to try though, so it is forthcoming. I'd rather not write anything at all than give you a dodgy recipe. Really I thought that getting my hands on a good carrot muffin recipe would be fairly easy. Apparently not. Oh well. I have something else for you today.

My sister and I had a party last night in celebration of the World Cup. (Well done Spain!) In honour of this celebration I made cookies decorated like soccer balls and the flags of the four quarter-final teams.

I'm going in a slightly different direction with this post. Rather than give you the recipes, I'm going to give you a bit of a decorating lesson: How to Flood Cookies! I swear my next post will be accompanied by a recipe. I already have one in mind. One that is fabulous and summery and won't have you slaving over a hot stove.

The reason I'm not giving you the recipes is that sugar cookies and royal icing are fairly standard and in no short supply. Everyone seems to have their personal preference regarding these two recipes and, in any case, they won't be hard to find should you not have a preferred recipe. Flooding cookies is fairly simple if you have a steady hand, albeit time consuming. They're certainly not something you can whip up the day of.

First, make your royal icing. (Well, actually, first make your cookies in the desired shapes and have a design in mind.) Make sure it's nice and shiny and dye it whatever colour you need it to be. Slowly add water to the icing, a tiny bit at a time (do NOT add too much, you can always add more water, you can't take it away). You want it to be just runny enough that it falls back in on itself when you drizzle it in the bowl. It still needs to have enough substance to stay where you put it and not run all over the place.

Any colours that will rest right next to each other need to be done on separate days so the colours don't run into each other. I'm using the Spanish flag as the example here. Make an outline with the icing like so (apologies for the blurriness)....

Then scribble inside as desired and move the icing around to fill in the gaps. You can use your finger to do this, or a brush, but I usually just use the tip of my piping bag, which works just fine.

The end result should look like this....

Once you have all the initial designs done (as below with the flags), let them set over night.

Repeat the process with the rest of the design. You can pipe on top of the set icing like I did with the sun on the Uruguay flag. To make the subtle lines on the white part of the soccer ball pipe them on first and let them set a bit, like so....



When you fill them in they should end up like this....



If you mess any of them up, perhaps by not leaving enough room for the fourth blue stripe in the Uruguay flag, just eat it. No one has to know!



Have Fun!

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 La Dad

For the most part the meals of my childhood were made by my mom. I have the utmost respect for her because of this. She nearly always cooked from scratch, blessedly avoiding the prepackaged, Hamburger Helper-esque meals that most of my friends were eating. She also managed to put up with my sister and me who were woefully picky as children. We were more content to eat frozen par-cooked tortellini than real food (I still do this, though no longer in stead of a meal). Despite what I may have avoided eating as a child, I credit my mom for passing on her love of food. Now it's the two of us rolling our eyes at the picky eating habits of my sister, and sometimes my dad, rather than her attempting to find something to feed her children at which they won't turn up their noses.

Although she did a lot of the cooking there were certain things that were specifically a la dad if you will. He is particularly gifted at making grilled cheese sandwiches and Kraft dinner, which may not sound like much of an accomplishment, but for the longest time I wouldn't eat either of those things unless they'd been made by my dad. This used to irk my mom. After all, it's just Kraft Dinner. But he always makes the cheese sauce to just the right consistency and always manages to crisp up a grilled cheese sandwich perfectly without burning it. I still haven't mastered the grilled cheese sandwich. I always burn at least one side of it. Always. I think I'm too easily distracted.

He also used to make this concoction involving chicken, mushroom soup, and rice. I used to love this dish. The rice mixed up with the soup and the chicken and baked into a casserole type thing. The thought of it alone is now enough to trigger my gag reflex. Even just writing about it has made me slightly nauseous. I actually think my dad's love of mushroom soup, whether eaten as soup or baked on top of toast, is the reason that I can't even stand to look at it anymore. I simply ate it too much (though never on toast, I'm happy to say).

I just realized I'm making it sound like he's not a very good cook, which is inaccurate. He's great on the barbecue. Summer is full of food a la dad. Sliced potatoes with rosemary, delicious shrimp, chicken kebabs. And on the stove top he can fry up some mean bacon (another thing I much prefer when cooked by my dad). But if there's one item of food he has changed irrevocably for me it's scrambled eggs. I know scrambled eggs sound kind of boring. You can't step into a decent breakfast joint in North America without encountering scrambled eggs, but he does them differently. They contain the magical, if somewhat humble, ingredient of Cheez Whiz. Yes, it is decidedly un-gourmet, and processed beyond the point of meriting the title "cheese", but these are delicious eggs.

For the longest time my sister and I were under the impression that this was how all scrambled eggs were made. The Cheez Whiz was a given, as are many things that you encounter as a child until you find something different. Needless to say, my sister and I were being set up for great disappointment. I don't remember where we were exactly, I think out for Sunday brunch, when we had our first encounter with non-Dad scrambled eggs. We rushed up to the eggs with our plates and piled them on, such was the excitement that scrambled eggs inspired. Then we put a forkful in our mouths. It was a horrible experience. Like getting salt when you're expecting sugar. Except we were expecting cheesy and moist where we got bland and dry. When we asked what was wrong with them my dad replied simply that there was no Cheez Whiz in them. We responded with blank stares. We also never got scrambled eggs at brunch again.

Some people find this strange, even repulsive. I think a lot of it has to do with the nature of Cheez Whiz. It's a vibrant orange 'cheese' spread that doesn't even really taste like cheese, enough said. In my scrambled eggs is the only place I'll consume it. But to this day it's also the only way I'll eat scrambled eggs. Even when I make them this way myself they don't turn out quite the way my dad makes them. That could be all in my head, but I think they're like the Kraft Dinner and grilled cheese sandwich. He just has a special touch that makes them perfect.

Scrambled Eggs A La Dad

2 eggs
2 tbsp milk
1 tbsp Cheez Whiz

Whisk together the eggs and milk and pour into a heated, buttered pan. Cook the eggs until they start to solidify. Add the Cheez Whiz and stir to melt and mix evenly with the eggs.
Feel free to add more Cheez Whiz if desired. Of course you could also add less, but I think it would rather defeat the purpose of including it in the first place.

Serve on toast, or an English muffin (as I did this morning), or just by themselves if you so desire. Really anything bready will work fabulously. Sometimes my dad will throw on some ketchup, though I'm not sure I can, in good conscience, recommend this. But, to each his own. Enjoy.

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.

Father's Day

My dad, generally, is not a dessert person. At least he says he's not. He'll eat it if it's served and if we go out for dinner, and someone orders dessert, he'll usually have a bite. As someone who is very much a dessert person, I don't quite understand this. The only reason I ever have for turning down dessert is that I've eaten too much dinner and fear that the consumption of any more food will result in my stomach exploding. As such, when planning a meal, I always think about dessert first.

So for father's day I couldn't very well not think about dessert. He may not be big on dessert, but he loves orange chocolate. I have a lovely recipe for lemon cheesecake mousse that I've used on several occasions so I decided it could be adapted with oranges and put in a chocolate tart.

It turned out beautifully. A lovely smooth, creamy orange mousse in a crumbly chocolate tart. I topped it with strawberries soaked in Grand Marnier, to both compliment and punch up the orange. Definitely a hit. It was delicious. So without further ado: the recipe.

Both recipes adapted from Anna Olson.

Orange Cheesecake Mousse with Strawberries and Grand Marnier

Chocolate Crust
1/4 cup toasted almonds
1/4 cup sugar
1 cup all purpose flour
1/4 cup cocoa powder
1/4 tsp salt
6 tbsp butter, chilled and cut in pieces
3 egg yolks
1 tsp vanilla extract

1. Pulse nuts in food processor with sugar, flour, cocoa, and salt.
2. Add butter and pulse until crumbly
3. Add egg yolks and vanilla and pulse until it comes together.
4. Press into greased muffin tins, dock with a fork, and bake at 350F.

*If you don't have a food processor big enough to fit the whole recipe just grind up the almonds and mix it all together by hand. Rub in the butter with your fingers and then mash in the liquids with a fork.

Orange Cheesecake Mousse
3/4 cup whipping cream
6 oz cream cheese at room temperature
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 tbsp orange zest
1/4 cup orange juice
dash of vanilla extract

2 cups strawberries, quartered
2 tbsp Grand Marnier

1. Whip cream to medium peaks and chill.
2. Toss strawberries in Grand Marnier and chill.
3. Beat cream cheese until smooth, beat in sugar and zest, then juice and vanilla.
4. Fold in cream in two additions.
5. Pipe or scoop into tart shells and garnish with strawberries.

Of course you can stick to Anna Olson's original recipe and use lemon rather than orange. Top with any berries you want. Blueberries would work well with lemon, as would blackberries. Raspberries would be nice with orange. Anything that takes your fancy really. I'm suddenly stuck by the idea of using passionfruit in the mousse...inspiration for next time!

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.

Spiced Chocolate

I had trouble trying to decide what to write about for this entry. It's not that I don't have a lot to say, or that I don't have enough recipes I want to try. It's quite the opposite in fact, and therein lies my problem. Where do I start?

I was contemplating this dilemma at work yesterday when my manager, Jenn, offered me a chocolate chili cookie. One bite and I had my inspiration. Spicy chocolate. It was rich and chocolatey, with a hint of cinnamon hitting the front of my mouth first, subtle, almost not there. Then came the heat, gently biting the back of my tongue, dancing up the back of my throat. I groaned appreciatively and told her I was in love.

This was not the first time I've had chili in chocolate. In fact it's one of my favourite ways to eat chocolate. I love that you can't taste it initially. That the chocolate hits your palate first, rich and dark, slightly bitter. You don't notice the heat until after you swallow, and then it shows up slowly, prickling your tongue. And I love that the heat lingers after you've finished eating it. It hangs around in your mouth, reminding you of the delicious confection you've just eaten, begging for more. The Mayans certainly knew what they were doing when they spiced, rather than sweetened their chocolate.

Putting chili in chocolate is much more common than it used to be, which is wonderful because it means that it's now easier to find. Often it will be called Mexican chocolate. Due to the previous rarity of spiced chocolate my first experience with it was something that I made myself.

I had some friends over for a French inspired dinner and was flipping through Joanne Harris's cookbook The French Kitchen. For those who don't know, she also wrote Chocolat, which was later turned into a film. I eventually landed on a recipe for Vianne's Spiced Hot Chocolate, and though it's not really French, I decided to serve it instead of coffee at the end of the meal. I fell in love the moment it touched my lips. It was warm, and rich, and spicy. Hot chocolate for grown-ups, I decided. I don't think my friend Brianna was quite as enamored with it as I was. In any case, I will now never turn down spiced chocolate. Ever. It's too delicious. Too divine. Too utterly seductive to pass up.

On that note, here's Joanne Harris's recipe:

Vianne's Spiced Hot Chocolate
(Serves 2)

1 2/3 cups of milk
1/2 vanilla bean, cut in half lengthwise
1/2 cinnamon stick
1 hot red chili, halved and seeded
3 1/2 oz bittersweet (70%) chocolate, grated
Brown sugar to taste (optional)

1. In a saucepan combine milk, vanilla bean, cinnamon stick, and chili. Bring to a simmer for one minute.
2. Whisk in chocolate until it melts.
3. Add brown sugar if desired. (Joanne Harris implores you to please try it without, and so do I)
4. Remove from heat and allow to infuse for 10 minutes, then remove vanilla bean, cinnamon stick, and chili.
5. Return to heat, bring back to a simmer. Then serve topped with whipped cream and chocolate curls, or simply on its own.

I know this is really more of a wintry drink, but do try it. It's so good. My mind seems to be on winter recipes right now. First brandy snaps and now this. I promise my next one will be in season. Something fresh, crisp and light, and full of promise for a relaxing, breezy summer ahead.

Amandine

The title of this post actually has very little to do with what it will be about. Amandine was the original name I had picked out for this blog. Incidentally it was taken, so I was left to ponder other names. Eventually I fell on Brandy Snap. I love everything about brandy snaps. Their deep caramel flavour, their crisp crunchy texture, mingling with the subtle sweetness of whipped cream. But mostly I love the memories they recall. They are the epitome of everything I want this blog to be. Not just about food, but the traditions, rituals, and memories that go along with it.

For me, and probably for many of my family members, brandy snaps mean Christmas. I do realize it's the middle of June, so Christmas treats aren't exactly in season, but who says they can only be eaten at Christmas? Anyway, every Christmas, without fail, my grandmother makes brandy snaps. She strategically keeps them hidden away in tins until the dinner table has been cleared of the evening meal. There's always a bit of a gap between dinner and dessert at Christmas. We have to digest the turkey and work up our appetites again. Then she places the plate of brandy snaps on the table. They're gone in seconds. I don't think it's possible for them to hang around for more than a minute. My cousins and I tease each other, threatening to eat the others' precious treats.

To really give you an idea of the reverence in which we hold the brandy snap I'll give you a little anecdote. A couple years ago my cousin Natalie and I were bringing the tins of brandy snaps up to my grandmother to be filled with cream. We were, of course, joking around, acting as though we would steal the entire contents of the tins for ourselves, when she dropped one of them. Given the fragile nature of brandy snaps, they shattered. My grandmother took it in stride, but I thought Nat was going to cry. My grown up, adult cousin had a look on her face as though she'd ruined Christmas. Literally. She hadn't of course. Though there was a bit of a silent shock in the room. A momentary panic where we contemplated the horror of no brandy snaps. But the other tin was perfect and whole, so we filled those, took the broken bits and mixed them up with the left over whipped cream and turned it into a kind of caramelly Eton Mess.

Some members of my family will probably consider it base treachery that I'm about to give you this recipe. We have a funny thing about recipes. But upon discovering several other recipes floating around on the wide web that are nearly identical, and all curiously devoid of brandy, I don't feel too badly about it.

Grandma Bull's Brandy Snaps

3 tbsp golden syrup
3 oz butter
1/3 cup brown sugar, lightly packed
2 tsp ground ginger
1/2 cup plain flour
pinch of salt

1. Place syrup, butter, and sugar in a saucepan and stir over low heat until butter melts. Remove from heat and add sifted flour, ginger, and salt. Mix together well.
2. For small brandy snaps use level teaspoonfuls, heaping teaspoonfuls for larger ones.
Drop onto lightly greased tray (or silpat lined if you happen to have one, silpats are a godsend for making these and various tuilles). Make sure to allow room for spread, there will be a lot of it.
3. Bake in moderate oven for 5 minutes, about three at a time, until golden brown. Remove from oven and allow to cool about a minute.
4. Lift them off the tray one at a time and wrap around the handle of a wooden spoon. Allow to cool on the handle.
5. Fill with whipped cream right before serving.

Some notes:
*You can store the brandy snaps, unfilled, in air tight containers for some time (I'm pretty sure my grandmother keeps them around for at least a week).
*Once filled they will go soft and mushy within hours, so don't fill them until you're ready to serve them, otherwise they fall entirely short of their name by neither containing brandy nor having any snap.
*Once out of the oven they will harden quickly so you have to work fairly fast. Don't be discouraged if the first few don't work out. Practice makes perfect and you can always bake only one or two at a time until you get the hang of it. I think my grandmother can do about five or six at a time, but then she's been making them for years. If you find you get through two and the third has hardened up too much, throw it back in the oven just to warm it up and make it malleable again, but be careful not to burn it.

Take Off!

Hello Fellow Foodies!

Okay, I've tried to start a blog several times now and every time I decide I don't like it, get cold feet, and delete the entire thing. So bear with me. Basically I need a place to write some things down whether they be recipes, exceptional food experiences, recommendations for lovely cookbooks, or what have you. This will be a collection of all of that and more.

I've been writing ever since I was a child and eating ever since I was, well since I was born, obviously. Recently I seem to have fallen out of my writing habit and I realized that I really miss it. So this will be my outlet. Also, I constantly find myself daunted by the prospect of cooking. Don't get me wrong. I love to cook. My problem is that I'm not particularly confident in that area. I can bake. Oh yes I can bake. But I can't very well live off of cupcakes and cookies for the rest of my life. So I'm hoping that that this blog will also serve as a motivator for trying some more challenging recipes. It is, of course, entirely possible that no one will ever read this. But I will write as though someone is nonetheless.

I love to write. I love to eat. It has taken a four year BA in English and one year into a Baking and Pastry Arts program for me to discover that I should combine the two. So here it goes. The start of a beautiful romance between food and words. We'll have to throw in some travel occasionally to spice things up. Time for take off! Wish me luck.