Sunday, November 25, 2007

Pumpkin Pudding

For American Thanksgiving weekend, we made a pumpkin bread pudding that is so good I thought I'd share the recipe. Here it is, from Gourmet magazine:

Ingredients

1 cup heavy cream
3/4 cup canned solid-pack pumpkin
1/2 cup whole milk
1/2 cup sugar
2 large eggs plus 1 yolk (we used three eggs)
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/8 teaspoon ground allspice
Pinch of ground cloves
5 cups cubed (1-inch) day-old baguette or crusty bread
3/4 stick unsalted butter, melted

Preparation

Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle.

Whisk together cream, pumpkin, milk, sugar, eggs, yolk, salt, and spices in a bowl.

Toss bread cubes with butter in another bowl, then add pumpkin mixture and toss to coat. Transfer to an ungreased 8-inch square baking dish and bake until custard is set, 25 to 30 minutes.

Monday, September 17, 2007

Chocolate Tasting #4

For my 29th birthday, P gave me a dozen chocolate bars with the notion of a formal chocolate tasting for friends on September 7th. We had 11 guests, all of whom were invited on handwritten robin's-egg-blue and chocolate stationary (very pretty!) to a black tie event including berry liqueurs as libations and good baguette to cleanse the palate.

Here are a few brief tasting notes along with the list of chocolates sampled (we did a blind tasting, so the names of the chocolates were replaced by stars as you'll see below).

Aldebaran: Dagoba Organic, Chai, 37% Cacao. Milk chocolate, ginger & spices.
  • Cardamon. Curry. Very sweet. Not a favourite of mine. Too milky and almost dirty-tasting. P liked the creaminess, though - he rated it high.
Rigel: Vosges “Black Pearl Bar,” 55% Cacao. Dark chocolate, wasabi, ginger & black sesame.
  • Peppery. Didn't notice the wasabi at all (or the sesame until the second try). Again, not a favourite.
Mirach: Vosges “Oaxaca Bar,” 75% Cacao. Tanzanian bittersweet chocolate,
Oaxacan guajillo y pasilla chilles.
  • We had a taster call this stuff "evil". Metallic, grainy, serious heat after a moment on the tongue.
Sirius: Bayano “Seeds of Change,” 70% Cacao. Dark chocolate, cacao nibs and cinnamon.
  • My favourite. Really cinnamony (in fact a whole piece of this is a bit much, but in small quantities it is divine). P tasted citrus and coffee in this one.
Note: P just bought me another Seeds of Change bar called Santa Caterina. Dark chocolate with mango, toasted coconut, cashews. It is really good.

Capella: Galler “Noir,” 85% Cacao. Dark chocolate.
  • My favourite plain bar. Round, smooth (especially for an 85%), creamy. Took my second place and P's third.
Deneb: Vosges “Creole Bar,” 70% Cacao. São Thome bittersweet, espresso, nibs & chicory.
  • P's least favourite. I liked the bitter graininess of this bar.
Vega: Vintage Plantations “Arriba,” 38% Cacao. Milk chocolate & salted roasted peanuts.
  • I did NOT like this one - way too sweet. P thought it waxy.
Altair: New Tree Renew “Rejuvinating,” 73% Cacao. Dark chocolate & black currant.
  • Tart & bitter. I love this bar. You can smell the currents from a room away. Delish!
Arcturus: Santander “Columbian Dark Chocolate,” 70% Cacao. Columbian dark chocolate.
  • I tasted coffee in this bar and I liked it. P found it dark & buttery.
Regulus: Natrue of Chocolate Organic “Dark Chocolate,” 70% Cacao. Organic dark chocolate.
  • P called it smooth, full & melting - it tied for third. I despised it: my least favourite.
Antares: Vosges “Mo's Bacon Bar,” 41% Cacao.
Deep milk chocolate, applewood smoked bacon & smoked salt.
  • No kidding! A sweet finish, very smoky. Worth it just for the shock value.
Spica: Vosges “Barcelona Bar,” 41% Cacao.
Deep milk chocolate, hickory smoked almonds & grey sea salt.
  • Still P's favourite. And I can't deny it is nearly the perfect chocolate bar.

Friday, August 31, 2007

Ici

Up on College is the best ice cream (note: not gelato, which is different, and possibly always better - can't decide) I've had since the cheap-o vanilla by Alpha we used to get by the bucket in the '80s in Alberta or the daily Häagen-Dazs (yes, I had to look up how to spell that) cookie dough ice cream we bought by the cup-full that holiday in Hawai'i in the '90s.

Now, my favourite flavour of ice cream under normal circumstances, would have to be Tiger. Which is very rare, to my dismay, these days. Rootbeer Float isn't bad either, but it is often disappointing. And then there are the great chocolate ice creams and licorice ice cream (black as night and sometimes easier to find than Tiger) and, well, I could go on.

Ici doesn't have any of these flavours, though. Except chocolate. But it is amazing i-c nonetheless. Let me start at the beginning. Vanilla ice cream is boring. And pedestrian. And not worth $4 (or so) a scoop under any circumstances. Right? Wrong-o. If I didn't need variety in my ice-cream life, I would never get anything else. Well, except maybe vanilla malt.
A few weeks ago when we were in line some hot night at Ici, I met a woman who has been going a few times a week since it opened (did I mention the ice cream genius in the back with eggs and cream used to be the pastry chef at Chez Panisse, or so I've heard?) and keeps swearing to try something new, but each time she goes she can't imagine not getting their (absolutely divine) vanilla. So she has never tried anything else, if you can believe it.

The first ice cream I had at Ici was ginger. And frankly, I find it hard to try anything else after that, too. Their ice cream is really (ice) CREAM - think very, very rich - and full of amazing bursting flavours. I had a sorbet there for the first time a few weeks ago, and thought I'd died and gone to heaven. It had the strongest, most powerful scent and taste of raspberry (maybe 'cause it had lime too) I've ever experienced. I'm not so fond of their chocolate, which is a bit too mild for my taste, and the second sorbet (pluot, which a few weeks ago was my favourite fruit to buy at the Bowl) was just too too sweet.

But for the ginger ice cream, the saffron ice cream, the malted vanilla and homemade burnt caramel and toffee, what a place! Hmmm. . . perhaps we should go tonight. . .

Birthday Meals

This is such a belated post that I'm not sure I can do justice to the two reviews I was going to conduct, namely of Rick n' Ann's and of Venus. So I'll just say this. I went to R & A twice in two weeks and now have no need to ever go again. Nothing wrong, but I'm done for the time being.

Next: Venus. Well, we keep going back (for dinner - they used to just serve brunch) and I've never been disappointed. P started with corn pancakes, which were really delicious: fresh, with whole and ground corn, and a pleasant soft but crispy texture. P's ribs were good too, and I'm not a ribs fan. But my steak was really terrific, as was the beautiful heirloom tomato soup I had to begin. We'll just have to go back so that I have more to say. . .

But the part of my birthday meals I really need to post is this recipe for banana chocolate pancakes, with which we started our day. We used some old bananas and added a half cup or so of lovely bittersweet Callebaut, chopped nice and fine. I would highly recommend these pancakes (from AllRecipes) on birthdays and on unbirthdays.

INGREDIENTS

  • 1 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1 tablespoon white sugar
  • 2 teaspoons baking powder
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 1 egg, beaten
  • 1 cup milk
  • 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
  • 2 ripe bananas, mashed

DIRECTIONS

  1. Combine flour, white sugar, baking powder and salt. In a separate bowl, mix together egg, milk, vegetable oil and bananas.
  2. Stir flour mixture into banana mixture; batter will be slightly lumpy.
  3. Heat a lightly oiled griddle or frying pan over medium high heat. Pour or scoop the batter onto the griddle, using approximately 1/4 cup for each pancake. Cook until pancakes are golden brown on both sides; serve hot.
YUMMM!

Salad & Sandwich

I may have finally perfected the grilled cheese sandwich. Of course, there is your standard tomato sandwich (thank you Dad, with a twist of my own): firm white bread, mayo on one side and butter on the other, thinly sliced tomatoes salted, peppered and herbed (dill and fresh oregano are nice; so is thyme) and, the old standby, extra-aged cheddar.

But then the weather started getting cooler, so I started making hot versions of the same thing, just with butter on the outside and no butter or mayo on the inside. Two layers of cheese with the tomatoes cradled within. Fontina is good; Jack is boring; Cheddar, of course, is excellent. But my crowning achievement (thanks to P, who bought the cheese) was using - inspiration! - smoked cheddar. Fry in a pan over low heat until all the cheese is leaking out and browning. Mmmm. . . good! I highly recommend it.

But who can eat sandwiches without salad? Actually, I can, and in quantity. Especially when they are the best sandwiches the world has ever known. But, we had a salad worth mentioning as well, so here's the recipe.

Vietnamese Beef Salad
(adapted from Street Cafe: Vietnam)

Have your butcher thinly slice 12 oz. sirloin. Marinate for 2 hours in:
1 tsp. honey
pinch sea salt
pinch pepper
1 clove garlic (minced)
1 shallot (minced)
1 stalk lemon grass (minced)
1 red chili (minced)
1//2 tsp. five-spice powder
Roast meat in marinade for 1 hour at 210F

Blend:
1 clove garlic (minced)
1 red chili (minced)
1/2 tsp. sea salt
1 tsp. icing sugar
4 fl oz white rice vinegar
This makes the dressing, which should be poured over the veggies:

1 green papaya, julienned
1 carrot, grated

Toss together, top with beef and:
1 tbsp. coriander (chopped)
2 tsp. roasted peanuts

Friday, August 24, 2007

Three Memorable Meals in Sausalito

We spent two days in Sausalito this week, just enough time to eat three interesting (and in one case amazing) meals.

The first was at Avatar's, which is a family-run Indian restaurant specializing in fusion - specifically, Mexican-influenced Indian cuisine (!!!). It's in a strip mall, which isn't an entirely auspicious location, but we received a friendly greeting at the door and then were warmly welcomed by our waiter, whom I would guess is one of the owners. When we mentioned that we'd heard the food was excellent and that we were really looking forward to the meal, he took our menus away and announced, with a flourish, that he would bring us the perfect lunch. And, in fact, he did.

The meal started with real San Francisco sourdough bread, which was interesting in view of the decidedly non-European menu, but it was good bread, so I suppose I shouldn't complain that I didn't get chapatis instead. Then our light rosewater lassi arrived, which was lovely and cold and thin - nice in contrast with the thick mango lassi we tend to get across the Bay (and which tends to fill one up rather too much in concert with, say, cream-based chicken tikka masala).

Then the real food arrived: first, enchiladas, complete with a lovely, thick brown savoury "salsa" and melted cheese, served with homemade chutneys: mango, mint, pineapple and pear (the pear was particularly good), a bit of tasty rice and homemade carrot pickle, cold. The enchilada was divine. It was so hearty we thought it must have been made with beef or lamb, but it was so mild in flavour, so finely ground and so luxuriously spiced that we couldn't be sure. We found out later that we were eating ground turkey and pumpkin. Unbelievable!

On the right: a lovely bed of rice topped with grilled veggies - broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, zucchini - and two long rectangular pieces of. . . fish? Chicken? So beautifully browned we couldn't tell just by looking, but after cutting a piece we knew it certainly wasn't fish. The first bite was divine, but again, we were fooled by texture. It was like chicken, but too firm. Pork, it turns out, cooked slowly so that it became so tender it was almost like chicken. I don't know how they managed it, but the veggies and meat were grilled (or braised?) so carefully and slowly that parts of them turned to sugary goodness. What a wonderful meal! We are usually wary of fusion, but this place is GOOD!

Our second meal, that same night, was at Christophe's. We'd heard mixed reviews, but decided to try it anyway, and we were only disappointed by dessert, which was truly sub-par: the profiteroles were old and tough; the sugar on the crème brulée was burned. But our appys and mains were quite good, so I'll stick with those.

We ordered one three-course and one four-course prix fixe. P started with seared foie gras, which was really excellent. Served in a dark and rich gravy on a tiny piece of toast, it melted on the tongue. Course number two, the soupe à l'ognion, was good too - lots of tasty cheese, a good broth, but sour bread rather than sweet, which I found a bit odd. To be truthful, my own French onion soup is better, I think. (See the recipe below.) I started with a mushroom vol au vent, which consisted of a triangular "sandwich" of puff pastry dripping with a pale gravy and filled with mushrooms and thyme chopped nice and small. P enjoyed it a great deal, but I fear the pastry may have been straight out of the freezer. (I really think these people could use a pastry chef).

Then, the mains: coq au vin for me; onglet for P. Yes, we chose "traditional" French all the way. We were warned that these folks were French through and through, and indeed they were: the chef was joking with customers in French, our waitress took our orders in French, and many of the diners were French-speaking as well. I would say that the varying quality of our food was representative of middle- and lower-end dining in Paris as well. We learned there that if you want everything to be superb, you really have to pay (maybe this is why I prefer Italy, where all price-ranges contain top-notch food), but if you're willing to eat a few less-tasty options in favour of one really great entrée, go for the mid-range.

In any case, the chicken and steak were quite good. Christophe's has interesting ideas about presentation: every dish has a spray of (grilled? fried?) spaghetti (raw) sticking out of a stack of potatoes or a hunk of zucchini for a dramatic touch, and the plates are decorated at the four corners with the most finely chopped carrots and (cucumber?); P's foie gras came with a "palm tree" made of cucumber, fennel and a cherry tomato.

The coq au vin was very rich and salty - almost too much umami for my taste, but the meat was falling off the bone it was so tender, and the mushrooms, onions and carrots (!) were braised so slowly that they blended superbly into the stew. P's onglet was good, but a hair on the tough side - the best onglet we've had was in Washington D.C. at Les Halles. The cognac-peppercorn cream sauce was lovely, though.

Would I eat here again? No real need to, but if I need French food in Sausalito at some point, I think this is the only option - and they really are French, French, French. Maybe the foie gras would be worth a second visit. It really is a meal (or at least a full dose - maybe several doses - of fat) in itself.

So, from the creative to the authentic to the Michelin star. Lunch next day was at Sushi Ran, which is the only sushi restaurant recognized by Michelin. We relied on the waiter for our order and wound up with a sushi special and a bento box. The miso broth to start was divine, but the tofu rather bland - overall, I suppose I prefer the miso soup at Kirala in Berkeley. But the mains brought an item that takes the prize for best food all year. Really.

We'll work up to it: I ordered sushi (one piece each of red tuna, yellowtail tuna, albacore tuna, salmon, sea bass, prawn) and an avocado-salmon roll, all of which were very good. I admit I don't know my sashimi, but my favourite fishes were the red tuna, the sea bass and the yellowtail. I'll have to do some more tasting to get a better sense of what I like. The roll was excellent as well - really, really fresh.

P's bento box had three little compartments for: crispy squid on a vinegary salad, butterfish and sautéed peas (julienned) with pea shoots. For once, I enjoyed the squid. I even ate some tentacles! The salad underneath was very sharp in flavour - I found it a bit overwhelming, but the combination of the light greens with the crispy squid was lovely texture-wise.

The sauté was divine: the only time I've had peas this good was at Ton Kiang in San Francisco. I do think that these just may have been better, although that's hard to imagine. But the crowning glory, food-wise, of the entire trip, and indeed of the entire year, was Sushi Ran's butterfish.

Butterfish (poronotus tricanthus, I've since discovered) are found along the north-eastern coast of the U.S. and Canada and are valuable for their rich, buttery meat. I've never actually had a fish that tasted like butter before, but this one did. And I don't think there was any butter involved in its preparation. Just imagine: the meat flakes away so gently it appears to be melting, and in fact it does melt in the mouth. How was it served? On a little piece of banana leaf and in a lovely sauce whose ingredients are entirely unknown to me, but the combination of the texture of this delicious fish and the rich, lemongrassy sauce was absolutely unforgettable. I'd go back just for the butterfish any day, and that's the first time I've ever thought I might go out of my way for fish!

Here are my favourite recipes for french onion soup (adapted from the Best of Bridge) and coq au vin (from the Canadian Living cookbook).

French Onion Soup au Gratin

Cook 4 thinly sliced large onions in a soup pot in 1/2 butter until the onions are nice and tender (the lower the heat and the longer it takes, the better). Add four 10 oz. cans of good beef broth (or your own stock), 1/2 cup dry sherry, 2 tsp. worcestershire sauce and some pepper and bring the soup to boil. I eat this soup just like this, after simmering it for awhile, but of course to make it authentic you need to add a slice of toast covered in emmenthaler or some such swiss cheese (although fontina is nice too) to each bowl, and broil until the cheese bubbles. Serves 6. This is an excellent soup, and so simple!

Coq au Vin

In a large stew pot, brown two slices of bacon. Remove the bacon and add 3 1/2 lbs. of chicken pieces to the pan, browning them in the bacon fat. Remove the chicken and all but a tablespoon of fat from the pan. Add 6 cups of button mushrooms, 2 cups of pearl onions, 3 cloves of garlic, 3 carrots (sliced into rounds), 1 tsp. of thyme, 1 tsp. of salt and 1/2 tsp. of pepper. Cook until mushrooms are browned and almost no liquid remains. Stir in 1/2 cup of flour, then add 1 1/2 cups of dry red wine (you can use white too, for a lighter effect) and 1 c. chicken broth, 1 tbsp. tomato paste and a bay leaf. Bring to a boil and then add the chicken, the bacon (chopped) and any accumulated bacon or chicken juices. Cover and simmer on low for 20 minutes; uncover and simmer for 20 minutes or until chicken juices run clear. Discard the bay leaf and serve (serves 6).

Saturday, August 18, 2007

Chocolate Tasting #3

Well, we are apparently not doing all that much cooking lately. Why? Because we're eating chocolate instead. We walked over to Bittersweet today and picked up two new bars: Michel Cluizel's Plantation "Mangaro" (65%) and Divine's mint dark chocolate (70%).

Bittersweet is pricey - they sell almost all the Vosges bars (at least we now have a source) at $8 a piece (unfortunately an over-priced source), and these two were $6 and $4 for 3.5 oz. respectively. Let's see how they taste.

The Cluziel is supposed to be citrusy. It looks fairly pale, not surprising for 65%, and frankly I don't detect a heck of a lot of citrus. It does have a fruity je ne sais quoi, though - the package explains that this Madagascar chocolate plantation was planted on former mango tree land. I wonder if M. Cluziel thinks the earth has imbued his chocolate with the scent of mango. If so, it is decidedly green mango. This chocolate is tart! I like it alright, but I won't go out of my way to get it again. It is a very hard bar, and the texture is almost waxy at the outset. Towards the end the tartness really comes out, which I rather like, but the path to the final experience is a bit too involved in my opinion, even though the chocolate is undeniably good. I really wish M. Cluziel wouldn't write his name on every tiny piece (Vosges does this too, but somehow it doesn't bother me as much). I prefer the plainer-looking bites of . . .

. . . Divine chocolate, which is organic and free-trade. The chocolate from this bar comes from a co-owned plantation in Ghana. I can smell the mint from here! (An aside: two minutes later (before tasting the Divine) I can still taste the Cluziel - it has a very long and oddly fiery finish.) There is a surprise in this bar: crystals of minty sugar (I'm glad they didn't use salt for once). A lot of minty sugar, in fact. I'm wondering if the sweetness doesn't overwhelm the chocolate in this case, although I like the crunchy texture and the overall experience. I'm not entirely convinced of the quality of this chocolate, but it is so infused with mint and sweetness that it is a bit hard to tell. This is a decent bar, if you like sweet, at this price, I'd say.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Chocolate Tasting #2

Back at the same little grocery where we found such surprisingly divine chocolate a few weeks ago, we picked up two new bars today: New Tree's "Sexy" and a new type of Vosges, the Creole Bar. Here are the results of our mid-afternoon sampling.

I admit that we bought another bar of the Vosges Barcelona bar that took the prize last time, so we started with that, although it cost us $5.79 this week! That bar just gets better and better: I recommended it to a friend and she ate the entire 3 oz. bar in a single sitting.

Next we tried New Tree's "Sexy" bar ($4.09 for 2.82 oz.), which they advertise as "energizing" - what with the caffeine from the chocolate and guarana extract, which is a Brazilian high-caffeine berry, the whole bar has 3 cups of coffee worth of kick. Not so interested in its energizing qualities, I bought the bar because it is Belgian, 73% cocoa and ginger-infused. This is not a shy treat: the ginger actually stings the tongue and the cacao has a bitter bite, but it is, surprisingly, simultaneously sweet - a compelling, if complex combination. I have one complaint: the graininess (and chewiness) of the ginger is a bit displeasing if you let this chocolate melt. Nibbled bit by bit, it does much better. And thank you, New Tree, for not being skimpy with the real chunks of ginger.

Finally, our new Vosges adventure. The Creole bar ($5.79 for 3 oz.) is 70% cacao and contains espresso, cocoa nibs, chicory and bittersweet chocolate from São Tomé, Portugal. Creamy and gritty (from the nibs, of course), it is a lot less aggressive, surprisingly, than the New Tree bar. I think the espresso is lost a bit in the overwhelming chocolate flavour delivered by Vosges. On the other hand, who can complain about tasting too much chocolate? The espresso seems to come out a bit in the final few grains left on the tongue after the rest of the chocolate is gone, but other than that it is a decidedly mild coffee experience. The nibs remind me: I need to taste some on their own - I've missed out completely on the current rage, to my shame. Perhaps the next time we head east on our bikes I'll buy some Scharffen Berger nibs. Or perhaps a visit to the factory is in order...

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Italian Supper (Wednesday)

Some friends came over for dinner Wednesday night and we served them Italian. In the interests of making note of simple foods that only take a few minutes to make, here is the menu and a few recipes.

To start, tuna crostini (oh, and a little glass of framboise before the food arrived).

Every time we arrive at our favourite Tuscan farmhouse for a holiday, Rina makes a plate of these crostini so that we don't starve on our first night in the tiny town. The key to good canned tuna (either in a green salad - in fact, greens and maybe a tomato mixed with tuna and lots of salt and pepper makes an AMAZING lunch - or for these crostini) is that the tuna be in olive oil (not soybean or canola or "vegetable" oil), not in water. Two cans, oil included, mixed with Italian mayo (nice and eggy-yellow), salt and pepper, makes the topping. Keep tasting - adding mayo until you like the texture and taste is the only way to do it. You can use day-old bread (a small loaf), or toast slices of new, dense bread (it has to be firm or it will just fall apart; white is best). On each slice, spread a spoonful of tuna mixture and top with a green pimiento-ed olive sliced in half. Think tiny open-faced sandwiches adorned with meaty tuna and accented with the brininess of the olive. Yum!

When I make these with Rina's guidance, I invariably do something "wrong" which "ruins" the crostini. Welcome to Italy and to working with Italian cooks. There is no experimenting. There is only tradition (and why should I complain? What a tradition it is!!). So I try to be as faithful as possible to her recipe, and you should too. The crostini never turn out quite as well as they do when she makes them, but I think that may have something to do with summer heat, the smell of dry grass, the sound of the tractors in the vineyard and the view of shaded castles and mountains in the hills towards Siena.

After the crostini, we served two pastas. The first I like to call "bruschetta" pasta, which is a blasphemous name (from the perspective of an Italian), but nevertheless... The second was P's idea: a simple, buttery mushroom pasta.

We love to make bruschetta pasta in the summer when the tomatoes are good, because it takes about 10 minutes and is incredibly fresh and easy. We usually make it with penne or spaghetti, but this time we had some excellent Barilla tortelloni on hand. I'll never make it with plain pasta again!

The trick to this recipe is using the best, ripest, freshest tomatoes you can find. Don't bother trying if you can't get good tomatoes. We bought our heirlooms (four big ones) at the Felton farmer's market which was, from the tamale sellers to the fruit vendors and the Beatles-playing guitarists, absolutely wonderful! I chopped the heirlooms into smallish (1-2cm square) pieces and tossed them with lots of fresh basil, good olive oil, a bit of balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper. If you're ambitious, add some raw garlic or sweet/red onions, finely chopped).

The tomatoey mixture becomes a cold "sauce" which, when tossed with the hot pasta, makes a warm dish perfect for a hot day. It makes a decent salad the day after, too! (I'd add some feta, perhaps, and serve it room temperature for lunch). If you'd rather have bruschetta with your tuna crostini, toast some slices of bread, rub a halved clove of garlic over each slice, and then paint each slice with olive oil (this last bit is VITAL! Otherwise you'll have - horrors! - soggy bread.). Put spoonful or two of tomato mixture on each slice of bread, and serve with lots of napkins! But for our pasta, just toss the tomatoes with the hot tortelloni and serve. So, so good.

Next: P's mushroom pasta. We used brown, white and oyster mushrooms (3 cups sliced, perhaps?), since that was what was in season at Felton. The trick? Frying them on low for a long time in a stick (yes, a full half cup) of butter. We often add garlic to our buttered mushrooms and eat them with fresh white bread for dinner, but this time P did it plain, adding only some salt and pepper and then, just before serving, some flat-leaf parsley. Tossed with pasta, this made for a lovely, rich spaghetti ai funghi. (Again, if you want to complicate matters, add a little cream or white wine.)

We served the pastas with freshly grated parmigiano (of course), locally-made baked sausages (sweet chicken-apple and hot Italian), good mustard for the meat and a lovely bottle of Chateau St. Jean's excellent cab (brought by the guests).

To finish things off: we had considered cheese as dessert, but I wanted to try the recent Gourmet recipe for flourless chocolate almond cakes. We served these exceedingly rich, pudding-like delights with fresh strawberries and cream.

It was a lovely meal!

Sunday, July 29, 2007

Matzo-Ball Soup on Saturday

A few months ago, a friend invited us over for matzo-ball soup, something I'd never had homemade before. She made a lovely, simple and fast version: Swanson's stock, carrot chunks, shredded rotisserie chicken and, of course, matzo balls. We LOVED it, so we went out and bought some matzo, and started making it ourselves, most often with just the dumplings and the stock.

My beloved, not one to stand on ceremony, wasn't into the "ball" part of the whole operation, and tended to create delicious but gigantic (i.e. 3" in diameter) irregularly shaped whompers instead of little perfect balls, as one might normally expect. Needless to say, this led to many discussions about food presentation and appropriate dumpling size. But I shut up when I was threatened to an end to matzo-ball soup unless I made it myself.

Well, I finally did make it myself (although I admit that I did have some help), and may I just say that it was darn good. I also acknowledge that, rather than 45 minutes, it took me the better part of the day even with extra hands, so we'll go back to the fast version (although hopefully with smaller balls - is this getting crude?) when we just need a matzo hit. But on days when there's time, this is what I'll be making:

Matzo-Ball Soup with Spring Vegetables
(adapted from Gourmet, April 2007)

Toast 2 tbsp. coriander seeds in a small skillet until fragrant; set aside.
Toast 1/2 tbsp. each fenugreek seeds and black peppercorns similarly.
Once spices are cool, grind them coarsely (we used a coffee grinder) and put in a big stockpot.

Add the following to the stockpot, coarsely chopping the veggies:
2 medium leeks
4 medium carrots
4 ribs celery
5 large cloves garlic
1/4 cup fresh ginger
1 bunch cilantro
2 bay leaves
3 cloves
3 1/2 lbs. chicken (we used two breasts and two legs - all organic, very nice)
3 quarts water

Bring the stock to a boil, then reduce and simmer, uncovered, for 3 hours (we only had time to simmer for 2, since we had surprise guests, and it turned out fine), skimming foam from top occasionally.

Next, make the matzo balls with a total of 1 cup matzo. We use the recipe on the back of the box, but add the following as well as the fat, salt, liquid and eggs listed there:
2 tbsp. chopped fresh dill
1 tsp. finely chopped fresh ginger
1/4 tsp. ground black pepper

Mix until just blended, then cover and chill in fridge for half an hour or, if you're in a rush, as we were, in the freezer for 10 minutes. Form into small, 1- 1/2" balls with moistened hands.

Back to the stock: remove the chicken onto a plate, then strain the broth from the stock. (We ate the carrots, which were really tasty, but tossed the rest of the strained veggies. ) Bring strained broth back to a simmer, and drop matzo balls one by one into the broth. Simmer, covered, for 25 minutes.

While simmering, chop the following into spoon-sized pieces:
8 baby carrots
6 baby turnips (we used a big turnip)
6 spring onions (save the greens for serving)

Add the vegetables and cook for another 15-20 minutes (you can tell if the matzo balls are done by tasting them - they should be moist all the way through). While the soup is simmering, remove the bones and skin from the chicken and shred into pieces. Add just a few minutes before serving.

Top the soup with fresh dill and the onion greens, which give it a bit of a bite on top of the stock's spiciness. This is GOOD SOUP!

Friday, July 27, 2007

A Chocolate Tasting

So far we have managed to avoid all sorts of new-fangled tastings like oil, vinegar and water (water?!?). We got sucked in to wine tasting, I admit, which led to purchasing cases of delicious late-harvest dessert wines etc., but now we have discovered a new joy: tasting luxury chocolate.

The unassuming local grocery on a street we infrequently visit turns out to have half a wall of specialty chocolates. Unable to resist, we picked up four:

Cafe Tasse Blanc (white, for my companion) at $2.29 for 45g
Fran's Gray Salt Caramels at $7.79 for 7 pieces
(not solid chocolate, but still worthy of mention)
BruCo 72% fondente anice at $4.89 for 60g
Vosges Barcelona Bar at $3.89 for 85g

I mention price because it turns out that more expensive does not necessarily mean better. Why am I not surprised?

In order of the above, some comments:

The white chocolate was entirely mediocre. I vote for Lindt's plain white as the best white chocolate around, even though I clearly need to taste some more white. The problem is, why taste white when you could have dark?

Salt caramels are all the rage, and I have had one extremely good one (huge with a price tag to match) so these ones simply didn't live up to my expectations. Too much salt, too much sugar - just too much overall.

This Italian anise chocolate, BruCo, has apparently won awards, and well it should. Unbelievably creamy for 72%, this stuff is divine. The anise doesn't taste like anise, somehow - or at least is doesn't overpower the chocolate, which seems to transform the spice into something softer and sweeter. I will be trying to find this stuff again - look here for some more details on the origins of the chocolate and the company.

Finally, the prizewinner. This may be the best chocolate I have ever had in my life, although it is flavoured and milk, so I'm not sure if that counts. I bought it as an experiment - I'm not big on milk chocolate, but I thought I'd try it for the grey sea salt, which I'd never seen added in a bar before. Vosges calls it an "exotic candy bar" - it's 41% cacao and has both salt and hickory smoked almonds, so the experience is very smoky, sweet and sharply salty simultaneously.

There is so much going on in this chocolate that I can only eat one piece at a time, but it is so very good! These people are not afraid of thoroughly salting their chocolate, so there are chunks of salt whose crystals snap under the teeth and then melt on the tongue, exploding with almost metallic minerals all within a sweet-and-smoky haze. As their website indicates, they've got even more exciting ideas about what belongs in chocolate. Very creative, very delicious. Go out and find some!

Sunday Dinner Menu (Pan-Asian)

Last week we spent an hour or two pouring over our Asian cookbooks in search of an eclectic dinner for four (with lots of leftovers). We came up with the following:

Chinese Spring Rolls
Jicama-Lime Salad
Lettuce Wraps
Vietnamese Three-Herb and Chicken Rolls
Asian Meatballs with Lime Dipping Sauce
Coconut Crème Caramel

All in all, it wasn't a spectacular meal. Nonetheless, I learned a few things. First, making your own spring rolls, which we haven't done in about five years, is incredibly simple. Here's how: take a bunch of food you like (we did veggie spring rolls with carrots, baby bok choy, bean sprouts and scallions in Chinese 5-spice), chop it into long, thin pieces (julienned), add flavourful spices and stir-fry it all together. Roll a few tablespoons of this into a egg-roll wrapper (seal with beaten egg), heat up some oil, plonk the rolls in one at a time, and voilà! Homemade spring rolls.

Other lessons:

1. Julienned jicama makes for a lovely crisp salad (just make sure the dressing has character, because jicama can be bland).

2. I love lettuce wraps (see recipe below).

3. Gourmet's recent Asian meatball recipe is not worth repeating (although I admit we used beef instead of pork to complement the veal and added some shiitake mushrooms, so maybe it's not their fault).

4. Don't change the proportions of coconut milk to milk in the crème caramel recipe given below unless you want it to become pudding-like, which ours was. But it was delicious too.

Here are the stars of the evening:

Lettuce Wraps

Mix together 8 oz. ground pork, 1tbsp. each finely chopped Chinese mushrooms and water chestnuts, a pinch of sugar, 1 tsp. light soy, 1 tsp. Chinese rice wine, 1 tsp. cornstarch and salt and pepper to taste.

Heat a few teaspoons of oil in a preheated wok or pan and add 1/2 ts. finely chopped ginger and 1 tsp. finely chopped scallions. Stir-fry for one minute; then add the meat mixture, followed by 1 tbsp. oyster sauce and a few drops of sesame oil.

Blend well and cook until pork is cooked through. Serve with crisp iceberg lettuce and hoisin. To eat: spread a bit of hoisin on a lettuce leaf, add a tablespoon or so of pork and wrap it all up. Yes, this will make a terrible mess (we ate outside).

Three-Herb Chicken Rolls

Marinate 2 large (half) chicken breasts is 1/4 c. dark soy, 2 inches ginger (finely chopped), 2 cloves of garlic (crushed) and 2 tbsp. rice wine for at least an hour.

Bake the chicken in its marinade in a covered dish at 350 for 40 minutes, allow to cool, then slice diagonally, pouring juices over the serving plate. This chicken, I should add, is really, really good.

Make up another plate of fresh herbs, including mint, cilantro and Thai basil (we ate these with beansprouts too).

A warm, sweet and spicy dipping sauce goes well with these: blend 1/2 c. sugar with the zest and juice of two limes, 2 finely chopped green chilies and 1/3 c. white rice vinegar in a saucepan; boil for five minutes.

To eat: using Vietnamese rice paper wrappers, dip one in a bowl of hot water until soft, add some chicken, sprouts and a sprig or two of each herb; pour over (or dip into) the lime sauce. Yum!

Coconut Crème Caramel

For the caramel: boil 3 1/2 oz. water with 4 oz. sugar until the mixture is caramelized to a golden brown (once the syrup starts to brown, watch it very carefully, or you'll have hard candy instead of liquid caramel - aim for a light-to-medium colour rather than a darker brown and it should be fine). Remove from heat and add two tablespoons water, stirring until all the caramel has dissolved. Divide among 4-6 ramekins.

For the custard: stir together 8 oz. milk and 8 oz. coconut milk and heat until bubbles appear around the edge of the pan. Remove from the heat and whisk in four beaten eggs, 2 oz. icing sugar and a few drops of vanilla. Stir in 1 oz. dried coconut and divide among the ramekins.

Bake over water in the over at 325 for 40 minutes, or until set. When cool, turn out of the ramekins and serve cool or cold.

My custard wasn't the best, texture- and appearance-wise this time, but, with extra coconut milk and candied caramel, these puddings tasted mighty fine!

His and Her Salad Dressings

P's Light Vinaigrette

3 tbsp balsamic vinegar
5 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp honey
1 tbsp fancy mustard (like dijon, or whatever you have)
1 clove minced garlic
salt & pepper

Place all ingredients in a seal-able jar. Microwave open for about 30 seconds to help dissolve the honey and to take the edge off the garlic. Stir with a spoon, and/or shake in the sealed jar over the sink (it almost always leaks as the expanding heated air seeps out of the jar).

This dressing keeps well in the fridge and is enough for several 2-person salads.

A's Homemade Ranch

Stir the juice of one lemon or one lime into two generous tablespoons of mayo (homemade is best, but I admit I use pre-fab 'cause I'm lazy). Add salt and pepper, paprika and lots of one or two savoury green herbs (basil, oregano, thyme, marjoram) to taste.

This recipe takes about 30 seconds to make and gives you some creamy oomphf on your salad when vinaigrette just won't cut it. I wouldn't recommend trying to store this dressing for long - this recipe makes enough for one LARGE (i.e. dinner-sized) salad for two.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Sunday Dinner Menu (Indian)

We've decided to start a tradition of cooking up a real storm on Sunday nights. Admittedly, this means grocery shopping on Sunday morning, which can involve a three-hour trip to the store unless we arrive at 10am sharp. This week we got lucky - we'll see how long that lasts.

This week's menu was as follows.

To begin:
Chana Chaat (chickpeas with cilantro, onion, tomato, yogurt, a sweet-spicy chaat. masala and tamarind - we used balsamic)
Tomato Catchumbar (a relish of tomatoes, cucumbers, sweet onions and green peppers in lemon)
Lavash (we have given up trying to make our own naan) with cucumber-mint raita

The main course:
Vij's Prawns (in an onion tomato masala)
Vij's Grilled Corn (with lemon, salt and an umami masala)
Tandoori Chicken (on the grill with a pre-made ginger-garlic sauce - good chicken, but I'll make my own sauces from now on, thank you very much)
Pearl Divers' Rice (recipe below)

Dessert:
The oh-so-authentically-Indian Streusel Plum Cake from Anne Lindsay's The Lighthearted Cookbook (recipe below)

The things really worth repeating (which we already repeat all the time) are the rice and the cake, so here are the recipes.

Pearl Divers' Rice with Saffron and Honey
(adapted from Clare Ferguson's Rice)

Combine 1 pinch of saffron, the black seeds of eight green cardamon pods, 2 tbsp. of rosewater and 4 tbsp. of boiling chicken stock in the top of a double boiler and simmer over boiling water.

Put 3 c. of basmati, 2 tsp. of salt and 2 thinly sliced onions in a heavy pan, and pour over a litre (less the 4 tbsp. used above) of boiling stock. Return to the boil, cover, reduce heat and cook for ten minutes, or until almost all the liquid is absorbed.

Pour the saffron mixture on top of the rice and drizzle 4 generous tbsp. of honey over the surface. Push eight holes in the rice right down to the bottom of the pan and add a bit of butter to each (try cutting a half stick - 1/4 c. - of butter into eight pieces here.) Cover the pan again and simmer for another five minutes. Remove from the heat, wrap the pan in a cloth, let stand for ten minutes, then eat hot.

This rice is DIVINE.

Streusel Plum Cake

Cake:

  • 1/4 cup (50 mL) butter
  • 3/4 cup (175 mL) granulated sugar
  • 2 eggs, separated
  • 1 1/4 cups (300 mL) all-purpose flour
  • 1 tsp (5 mL) baking powder
  • 1/3 cup (75 mL) milk
  • 3 cups (750 mL) quartered fresh ripe plums or 2 cans (each 14 oz/398 mL) drained and halved plums

Streusel Topping:

  • 1/2 cup (125 mL) packed brown sugar
  • 1 tbsp (15 mL) butter
  • 1tsp (5 mL) cinnamon
  1. Grease 9-in (2.5-L) or 10-in (3-L) square cake pan (for a thinner, quicker-cooking cake) or use spring-form pan.
  2. In large bowl, cream together butter, sugar, and egg yolks until fluffy. Combine flour and baking powder; beat into egg mixture alternately with milk. Beat egg whites until stiff but not dry; fold into batter. Turn into prepared pan. Arrange plums on top.
  3. Streusel topping: In small bowl, combine brown sugar, butter, and cinnamon; mix well and sprinkle over fruit.
  4. Bake in 350°F (180°C) oven for 35 to 45 minutes or until top is golden and toothpick inserted into cake comes out clean.
This may just be my favourite cake. It makes a nice breakfast, too.

Monday Mac & Cheese

After Sunday's dinner and Friday's pizza night (we seem to have perfected the margherita and the widowmaker, more on that later, but our Greek and my old (and odd) standby shrimp and green pepper were just plain bad - more practice is obviously needed) we had some odd leftovers: tomato catchumbar, pizza sauce and the ends of some old cheeses.

So we made macaroni and cheese. It was phenomenal - here's the recipe:

Cook 2 lbs. of macaroni in boiling, salted water.

While water is boiling and pasta is cooking, chop and then fry a tomato or two, some cilantro, parsley or other fresh herb, a green pepper and an onion in the juice of one lemon and a tablespoon of butter. Use a heavy pan that will fit the pasta too - one that can go in the over and has a lid. Add a cup and a half of tomato sauce (ours was thick - paste just barely thinned for pizza - with salt, pepper and lots of fresh oregano) and slowly add between 1/2 and 1 cup of milk, stirring carefully to prevent lumps.

When the sauce is evenly mixed with the milk, add 2-3 cups of cheese and mix thoroughly. We used fontiago (which I assume is fontina + asiago - we'd never seen or tasted it before, but it is nice and sharp) along with an extra aged white Canadian cheddar.

When the cheese is melted, stir in the pasta until it is nicely coated with tasty sauce. Cover the pan and put in the oven for about half an hour at 350F.

This would probably serve 8 for dinner with a nice simple green salad (there were only two of us, so now we have plenty of leftovers!).

Monday, July 16, 2007

Huevos Rancheros: in Mexico and at Home

Some of my fondest memories revolve around tiny Mexican cafés on the Baja peninsula. I'd catch glimpses of an aged abuela in the kitchen kicking and cursing the chickens running around underfoot as her 14-year-old grand-daughter meekly served tables and mama shouted orders. Dad was usually never to be found unless he was drinking beer with friends in a corner, gesturing for food or more drink as the day wore on.

One such café was where I had my first huevos rancheros. Not too big on eggs at that point, I ordered them for the steak instead. Sliced into short, narrow strips, tough as nails, and soaking in a rich tomato-chili sauce, who knew beef could contain so much grassy, earthy flavour? Thank goodness for Sonoran cattle!

Ten years later, I still love beef, but eggs appeal too. It took my father almost twenty years to convince me to eat eggs, but I never got beyond the occasional toast dipped in peppered yolk. Somehow, my husband had me eating eggs done all ways within six months of our marriage. Poor Dad! The trick? Keep the egg-to-other tasty stuff ratio really low and then start sneakily cranking it up.

With Mexican eggs foremost in my mind, then, here are two recipes for vegetarian huevos rancheros. The first is adapted from Gourmet magazine (April 2007); the second is from the rebar cookbook (our new favourite vegetarian cookbook, created by the cooks at rebar restaurant in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada). Both recipes have a smoky secret ingredient: chipotle peppers in adobo sauce. Yes, this is an acquired taste and yes, it is worth acquiring (it took me less than a year, and now they go in many, many things for a little pizazz).

The big question for me is: should the eggs be served over-easy or sunny-side-up (traditional) or scrambled (innovative)? One of each is suggested below, but for my money, scrambled eggs with nothing in them are boring. Add a little cheese, tomato, onion or spices and now you're talking! Although I can't complain about the rebar recipe at all.

Gourmet Huevos:
(for four hungry people - dinner, perhaps?)

6 tablespoons vegetable oil
8 (5-inch) corn tortillas
2 (14- to 15-ounce) cans whole tomatoes in juice (or use fresh ones - they're better!)
1/2 cup chopped white onion
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1 tablespoon chopped canned chipotle chiles in adobo
2 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
1 teaspoon salt
8 large eggs

Simmer tomatoes with their juice, onion, cilantro, chipotle, garlic, and salt in a hot pan, stirring occasionally, until salsa is slightly thickened, about 10 minutes. (Gourmet suggests puréeing the sauce. I think this is messy and makes the sauce so wet that it soaks the tortillas, making them mushy (ick!). But if you like smooth sauces, use a blender by all means, just don't blender the sauce once it is hot unless you would like your kitchen decorated in salsa - I have done this with tomato soup.)

Heat 1 tbsp. oil in a heavy skillet over moderately high heat until hot but not smoking, then crack 4 eggs into skillet and cook to desired doneness. Transfer to a plate and keep warm, covered, then cook remaining 4 eggs in remaining tbsp. oil in same manner. (If you have a big enough pan, do them all at the same time - I can always tell when my eggs have sat for even a few minutes. They're just not as good.) Season eggs with salt and pepper.

Serve 2 warmed tortillas (you can fry tortillas in oil in a hot pan or reheat them wrapped in a clean, slightly damp cloth in the microwave) topped with 2 eggs and a big spoonful or two of salsa to each happy customer.

Rebar Huevos:
(for two - and yes, this is my favourite because the beans are to die for; this despite the scrambled eggs)

Toss a can (14 oz) of drained, rinsed pinto beans, 1 tsp. (or to taste - this stuff can be HOT!) chipotle purée (just throw the can in the blender - oops, I mean take the peppers and sauce out of the can, put them in the blender and purée them rather than the aluminum can), 1 tbsp. oil, 1 tsp. balsamic vinegar, 1 tsp. brown sugar (this is very important), 1/4 tsp. salt into a saucepan and heat slowly while making the eggs. (Or, if you are very lazy, buy a can of refried beans and add some - or none, but that would be sad - of the ingredients above to taste. You can get veggie refritos, but in my opinion, the traditional lard-based beans are unbeatable.)

Scramble four eggs with salt and pepper (this is where I am always tempted to add extra cheese, tomato, peppers, onion, something!) and set aside. While the beans are still heating slowly, heat the tortillas too.

Rebar suggests making a kind of tortilla omelet in the pan at this stage, which is fine (and has the added bonus of melted cheese, always a plus): add some grated cheese to a fried tortilla, top with salsa, eggs and beans etc. We, however, like to serve these buffet-style instead: put out a little bowl of cheese (spicy jack? aged cheddar?), some fresh salsa (I'll post a good salsa recipe at some point - for now, think: the best tomatoes money can buy (smell, don't look), lots of parsley, a bit of jalapeño, more lime juice than you'd think and some mild onion), some spicy red sauce (taco?) and, of course, some beans. Take your tortilla, add eggs and toppings, and breakfast is served!

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Bob's Baked Eggs (in two minutes)

While I'm talking about eggs, let me include a super-fast version of "Bob's Baked Eggs." Let me stress that I do NOT cook with the microwave. EVER.

Until Tuesday, that is, when I was too hungry to bake eggs in the oven, so I thoroughly mixed an egg and a tablespoon each of leftover salsa and cheese (Day 1: herbed gouda; Days 2 and 3: smoked mozzarella; next week: extra aged cheddar, and I bet goat cheese would be good too) in a little ramekin with a fork and microwaved on high for a minute and a half.

Presto! (Speaking of which, you could use pesto instead, or tapenade) A very quick scramble, with almost no clean-up (although don't put the ramekins in the dishwasher or the eggs will bake right on - yes, I learned this the hard way).

I ate my egg, very contentedly, on buttered toast.

Eggs at Sea - Piperade by Request

By special request, here is my recipe for making piperade, which, traditionally, is a Basque dish of garlic, onions, tomatoes, peppers and eggs. Last served with a three bridge view, I think it will make an excellent morning, noon or evening contribution to a sailing cruise - no three-oven kitchen needed here! The galley should do just fine.

My version is rather flexible (excellent for using up bits and pieces of vegetables lurking belatedly in the fridge) and may not bear any resemblance to the original, which I have never had the honour of tasting either in the south of France or in the north of Spain (sigh).

Chop your chosen vegetables (about half a cup, chopped, per person) into small pieces about a centimetre square. I use whatever is on hand, but onions, tomatoes, sweet peppers, potatoes, zucchini, carrots, fennel bulbs and/or garlic all work well. Sauté the veggies in a broad shallow pan (with a lid!) in good olive oil starting with the firmest (carrots, potatoes, onions) and finishing with the softest (peppers, tomatoes). Spice with salt and pepper; oregano, thyme, dill and/or basil - again, whatever is on hand (actually, cumin and cayenne might make things interesting).

Before the vegetables disintegrate, but after they have produced enough liquid to coat the pan, spread the veggies evenly in the pan and make two to eight (depending on how many eggs you want to cook) "holes" in the mixture. Crack an egg into each one, sprinkling with salt and pepper.

This is the tricky stage: how to cook the tops of the eggs without "hard-boiling" the bottom or overcooking the vegetables. I usually add a few spoonfuls of water and slam a lid on top of the whole pan, turning the heat down and letting the eggs steam as they cook. Keep a close eye on the heat and on the doneness of the eggs - they can go from gelatinous to chalky in a split second.

When the whites are firm and the yolks still runny, take off the heat and serve immediately - this dish doesn't keep at all well, so make sure you don't make any extra. Everyone gets an egg (or two or three), some veggies and a piece or two of lovely fresh bread and butter. Make sure the bread is substantial or toast it if not; otherwise it will fall apart and the textures will be all wrong.

Enjoy!

Incidentally, the Basque restaurant "Piperade" in San Francisco is reputedly excellent. I think a visit is in order.

Saturday, April 14, 2007

A love of food, voyages and the written word

"This waybread of the Elves had a potency that increased as travellers relied on it alone and did not mingle it with other foods. It fed the will, and it gave strength to endure, and to master sinew and limb beyond the measure of mortal kind."
- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
I hope that these words will be a kind of waybread for those who read them. My travels, the people I meet and the food I eat, both nearby and far away, are infinitely curious to me. Perhaps a few others might find them nourishing, enriching and edifying.

Join me in living the dream.