Tart on Tartan

Whoa! It's been a while! My CSA season has come and gone! A whole summer's worth of eating undocumented. I have to get busy.

So while I get my typing fingers warmed up for the season of eating, I've been doing some designing and here is the beginnings of what might be a a very extensive tea towel collection....

Summer Plate

It took me many winters to adjust and accept the cold. The first 4 years in the North East, coming from the equator, were brutal. At the slightest hint of fall, my mood would take a turn for the worst. I would never be warm enough and at -11 Celsius with the wind blowing through every layer I had on, I thought I'd never be warm again. Now, although I do enjoy summer, I complain about being hot far more than I do being cold and summer might be my favourite season only because of what's around to eat.

My lunch today was the essence of summer:
tomatoes, goat cheese and balsamic vinegar on toast rubbed with garlic, grilled eggplant, sweet corn and a nectarine (not pictured)

(I caved and went to the market to buy some green zebra tomatoes, even though I have CSA tomatoes coming out of my ears, vegetable drawer overflowing)

Hello hot summer

Just my luck that my grand welcome is the most brutal summer anyone who has lived here for the past 30 years can remember. And just when temperatures were about to hit beyond unbearable was the time I decided that I would stop taking the metro in protest of its steep fare hikes. Sweat and burning calves be damned, I power walk home so fast that its the pace of a slow run, just so that I have the satisfaction of outwalking the bus and saved money that I've put towards some heavy duty sandals bought specifically for...outwalking the bus.

After a very crappy Friday that was utterly unrewarding and short of a mini heart attack, I reminded myself that no one died (ok, maybe some have fallen victim to some unfortunate road signs) because of graphic design and decided the only way to soothe my sour self was to make some blackberry yogurt pops. So I walked over to a kitchen supply store and picked up some molds for $10.

It's equal amounts of fruit and plain yogurt, with some lemon juice and honey and blended until creamy, then frozen.

Summer Treats

The thing about living in DC is that I've had to accept that apples will cost a zillion dollars a pound and won't be as delicious and I have to think twice about buying a whole bundle of apples. On a more cheerful note, peaches, nectarines and apricots are much cheaper!

And although I am a little sad about the absence of green zebra tomatoes in my life, I get many very delicious tomatoes delivered in my CSA every week.
This is my usual after work snack – lush tomatoes on garlic bread (I made the bread!) with some farmers market cheese and basil.





Behold! My apricot tart! (I made it with a chocolate mousse filling because...well...I love chocolate mousse and do not love pastry cream as much)

The Strawberries

My frequent trips up to New York always begin with me sliding (not so) gracefully into a booth in Shabu Tatsu, exactly 30 minutes after my train gets in, and ordering an enormous plate of raw meat, and then swirling it hypnotically in a hot pot sunken into the table. Afterwards, I usually gobble up 2 bowls of ice cream since my friend Nick can't eat his and go off to a bar if I haven't hit a wall yet and stumble 2 blocks to my other friend Salman's apartment. Then, at 7.30 the next morning I tramp off to the farmers market and buy some tomatoes and line up for strawberries at Mountain Sweet Berry, usually while slurping up Ronnybrook chocolate milk. This time Salman and I were in line just as the last flat of strawberries was up for sale.

"WE'RE RUNNING OUT OF STRAWBERRIES"

Panic ensued.

People stated how many pints they wanted. It was usually just one. Or a meek two. "EIGHT."

Outrage.

"oh COME ON! LEAVE SOME FOR THE REST OF US WHY DON'T YOU!"

People in line were fidgety and disgruntled, making protesty noises. The girl behind me gets the last of the strawberries and does a double fist pump like she won a bar of gold and shouted half dazed "YEAH! I MADE IT!" and I start to relax a little, my strawberries now secure. The old man in front of me had a granny cart and he recounted joyfully and resentfully how last week he had been behind the one who got the last strawberries and with an upwards fist swing announced that he "wanted to PUNCH that M*****F****R!!!!!!" and then added emphatically, "I really did!"

That night at Blue Hill, sandwiched between two old new york old money couples who were behaving absolutely insufferably, we ate a truly spectacular dinner. The first 3 courses were delicious, but painful to sit through: scathing passive aggression was rampant and it was exhausting. Tolerating their stares at us like we were were two rats that wandered out of a drain was very trying. On top of that we had to put up with preposterous and confusing comments like "I cannot f-ing stand it when guys don't tuck in their shirts. It's so sloppy." and "I hope these peaches aren't form Pennsylvania. Good. Because I can't eat anything from Pennsylvania" – whether it was a joke or serious was not entirely clear. But thankfully they both left before the desserts started and the wait staff relaxed. The first dessert they brought out were strawberries on a little bit of mint ice cream, topped with an elderflower cloud. The strawberries were unmistakable – small and bursting like flavor like Japanese candy. After she came to clear the dishes I asked where they were from and she checked with the chef, and came back to report that they were from Mountain Sweet Berry and was surprised when she learned that we had thought as much – who goes into a restaurant and identifies produce by farm? So I recounted the story of the morning's events, enthusiastically and with actions, hushed and whispering diners all around as we burst into peels of laughter and then she told her coworkers about the morning's near brawl over the strawberries.

Shortly after the next course, she slipped a little bag beside me on the seat, leaned over and said "These are from the chef, he says no fighting."
and inside was a green carton – a whole pint of Mountain Sweet Berry Strawberries!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMG!




P.S Here are a couple of articles about Mountain Sweet Berry:
Serious Eats
Food and Wine by Dan Barber, executive chef at Blue Hill

cat's tongues

Cat's tongues are these long, rectangular round thing biscuits which are....generally not very exciting. I was enticed by Laduree's cat's tongues only because of the mysterious blind embossed black cat with a pink tongue. But Parisian treats never disappoint. These were really exquisite, moist biscuits with little flecks of vanilla bean in them, their tips dipped carefully in colored chocolate.

oui oui, Paris!

Salut!

I recently returned from Paris with the extra bag bursting at the seams with chocolate, caramels, macaroons, cats tongues, violet pastels and all sorts of other yummy delights which have now dwindled to little multicolored crumbs in pretty boxes as I put on the Sofia Coppola version of Marie Antoinette in all its delicious Versailles-y glory to extend the memory of my sweet treats.




Pastries in America have become these big monstrosities, weighed down by sugar and thick glazes, although I have been known to scarf down Pain au Chocolats with very little discernment. It takes me a while to warm up to the idea of pastries, because I've had few exceptional ones, but they're not hard to find in Paris, where everything is beautiful, dainty and always just right.


This lovely was a violet cream puff with violet icing and a crystallized violet. So many violets! So delicious.


This was on another trip to Laduree. Their set lunch is the best deal – 2 or 3 course meal where you can pick any dessert you want. I picked the cassis sorbet and violet ice cream with an equal amount of Chantilly cream on top.

Then we did a market tour near the Bastille which stopped first at a little Patisserie called Ble Sucre (wheat, sugar) which had won the honor of making the best croissant in Paris. It was so exquisite that I ate it before I photographed it.

Besides croissants, it is the birthplace of these delightful creations:




apricot danish, chocolate mousse cake, chocolate eclair

Then, on a a last minute trip back, to run errands (picking up cheeses and chocolates) I had to do the impossible and pick between a tart tartin that i'd had my heart set on for 3 days and the rhubarb rouge (rhubarb has a special place in my stomach), and was ultimately swayed by the pink knotted rose marshmallow.



Oh sugary bliss.

Edible Day Lily

In order to plant our veggie garden, B and I dug up a plot on our rental property of what we thought were tall obnoxious leafy weeds.

Look what came up from a patch we didn't dig! A beautiful day lily (edible I might add!). Our landlord was somewhat shocked and offended that we dug up a plot of strong growing perennial flowers! Oh well. I'll plant some surprise bulbs to come up for him when we move out. :)

Colour Surprise

Look what B left in a fruit bowl one day.

Sweet Basil Babies

Nope, not little basil peas, just new leaves! I love their adorable puffiness.

Away

I'll be out of town for a week but my garden won't! I've scheduled some photos to auto-post in my absence, so keep checking back! :)

Summerlazy Quinoa Risotto

I concocted this ridiculously quick Quisotto for lunch today as an alternative to the toil of risotto stirring. It's also lighter and less cheezy in flavour, making it the perfect light Summerlazy dish. Enjoy!

Ingredients
quinoa (cook 1 part quinoa to 1.5-2 parts water)
asparagus, wooded stems trimmed, broken into segments
(try with fresh summer peas too! I didn't have any)

Dress with
fresh mint and tarragon (a pinch or two of each, torn or snipped or chopped small)
parmesan, sprinkled lightly
a tiny splash of olive oil
a tiny squeeze of lemon

Directions
I threw my quinoa and asparagus (you could do this with the peas too) straight in the rice cooker with the 2 parts water (to 1 part quinoa), and a small corner of broth cube (sub a pinch of salt). You can also do it over the stove (covered) over med to med-low heat.

Dress this summer risotto lightly, the flavours are delicate- I overdid it with the mint - that fresh stuff overpowers!

(Learn from my mistake and throw the chopped mint into the just-cooked quinoa; toss till wilted. This will mellow the strong herby flavour. Good luck!).


my now flourishing tarragon and new favourite herb this summer

Lettuce Hideaway

My latest lettuce experiment - it's been humid 30 degree days punctuated by violent thundershowers for the past week. Poor lettuce is being beaten and cooked left and right. I hid them today under the wooden slatted bench on my porch for shelter. I hope they'll be okay while I'm away next week!

Batches of Red Candies

Look at my little green baby bounty of Red Candy plum tomatoes! All this rain is at least good for fattening them up!

First Fruits of Lettuce Labour!

.
.
.

1. Pick!.............................................. 2. Wash!

..........3. Toss!..................................... 4. Eat!
..........

Zen and The Art of Lettuce Maintenance

Remember Lettuce Survivor? It's become my Neverending Story of Lettuce Transplants. I am overflowing with lettuce almost ready for a big juicy salad! I am so nervous that everything in my garden will ripen the week I am out of town coming up. With hope, I'll have good garden karma.



Oh and did I tell you? Garden anarchy (i.e. my reckless disregard for the Institution of Gardening Rules) won a hefty point this Spring - nature has her plan - the rain has repeatedly taken out all my carefully re-spaced baby lettuces (which has meant regular replacement of displaced soil and endless transplant experiments for me (i.e. endless toil!).



On the other hand, my big messy row of seedlings (that any Good Gardener would have dismissed as future compost) has positively flourished with no need for human interference. Those crowded roots are what helped the lettuce stem the torrential tides of a wet, stormy young New Brunswick summer. The lettuce is probably growing a little slower than well-spaced lettuce protected from the elements, but -- they are all green and sun-kissed still (Despite the crowding!) and look happier than anything else in the garden.

Turns out trusting in Ma Nature was the right thing. Every day I learn from B's naturally Zen attitude to life (and gardening!) - he never worried once; all while I fretted incessantly over lettuce babies and puzzled over the correct thinning practices. He knew it would work out all along, just as he always trusts that things will. He's my rock in torrential Spring rains.



Thank you my dear! <3

Vegetable Transformations

B has just alerted me to the synchronicity of what I am about to post. On Tapestry right now (CBC Radio 2), they are doing a show about gardening as a window into the mysteries of creation (Back to the Garden podcast). A brief synopsis: Joni Mitchell says in Woodstock, we've got to get back to the garden ("...then can I walk beside you?"). Stephen Scharper, a professor of religious ethics and environmental studies at the University of Toronto, says the root of our urge to get back to the garden is a longing to choose life. Gardener Marjorie Harris refers to her garden as a cathedral.

...Another good quotation (just missed the source of it..): "The best place to find God is in the garden, you can dig for Him there."

Here are some little miracles I found in my garden today:

My curly-leafed parsley came up with doubled-up pointy tips and stayed that way for the first 4 weeks of its existence. I wondered how it would ever begin to resemble what I put in my tuna parsley tomato pasta. I was so excited to see its hilarious new growth today of little curly-topped toupés:



My beleaguered strawberry plant sprouted new hope today from amidst the remains of its stolen fruits..



Last and most exciting, I came out wondering if my wilting tomato flowers were a good or bad sign. I was soon ecstatic to see how good it was...



...a first tomato!

The perfect sweet and spicy summer salad

Spinach Salad with Ginger Mustard Vinaigrette
(with mesclun thinnings from the garden!)

basic salad ingredients:
baby spinach
black olives, roughly chopped
green pepper, diced

dressing:
1 part dijon mustard
2 parts olive oil
tiny knob of ginger, minced
a squirt of orange juice

extra:
baby mesclun thinnings from the garden

This summer salad was spontaneous magic. The black olives and green pepper were pizza topping leftovers from last night's dinner. The crunch and spice of the green pepper turned out to be perfect with the ginger mustard vinaigrette. Black olives gave a deep and savoury foundation to the flavour combo of sweet and spicy.

The light tones of the mesclun mix from the garden were probably overshadowed, but their taste combo was also a mix of hot and sweet, so I thought they were a pretty addition to my salad, and of course, eating what I'd grown myself made it that much sweeter.

<3 pamplemousse

Good news, bad news

Bad news: Crow stole my strawberry. (Isn't that red crown beautiful though?)
Good news: Thunderstorm traumatized the plant into producing 3 more flower buds!

This time I bought netting to protect them.

This isn't over, Crow!

<3 pamplemousse

Thinning While Eating

Who says thinning doesn't go with eating?



...At least in the garden it makes sense!



I discovered one fun thing I can do with my overcrowding problem. Above are arugula and green onion sprouts I pulled to give the remaining plants a little more room to grow.

A sandwich a day keeps your garden growing!

Here's what I garnished with my baby arugula and green onion sprouts:

Summer Toast!
(with olive tapenade, tomato and parmesan)

1. The olive tapenade is a cinch to make and can be kept in the fridge for a month. All it takes is pitted black olives and a couple glugs of olive oil in a food processor (blended to a rough paste). Mix in a couple sprigs of fresh thyme for extra flavour.

2. I spread my tapenade on bread and added a slice of giant beefsteak tomato on top.

3. Sprinkle generously with parmesan.

4. Toast it up in the oven or toaster oven.

5. Garnish with garden toppings.

Delicious!

Herbscrapers

That's mint in the front and lemon balm in the back, both of which I guess I'm not eating fast enough! They're at least a foot tall now and growing.

Cheer Up Thunderstorm Pasta

Heavy days, heavy rain.

On top of all that's been happening lately, I came home from work yesterday to find the afternoon thunderstorm had decimated my baby arugula in the garden.

The day before, the half ripe first strawberry I had been looking forward to snapping a picture of (and procrastinating bringing inside to protect!) had been snatched early by a crow. My first strawberry. Ever. Gone!

I half-heartedly took some photos of the damage yesterday but my heart just wasn't in it. How can you take a good picture when you're sad? So instead I'm going to show you how I cheered myself up today: With a Cheer Up Thunderstorm Pasta.

Years ago, my stepmother imparted to me the perfect summer pasta, which involves little more than fresh summer tomatoes and fresh basil tossed around a pan for a minute or two.

My tomato plants are still just flowering and my basil plants are the tiniest sprouts in the garden (we grew them from seed this year), but I did have a pile of overripe organic tomatoes I left too many days on the shelf, and several pots of other herbs we bought as plants from the garden centre a few weeks ago. Plus, my garden chives from B's mom were out of control and desperately needed a haircut.

Chives are such a great summer herb because they replace themselves to full height a day or two after cutting - they grow like grass - and because snipping a bunch of chives into a dish takes a fraction of the time it takes to dice garlic and gives the same flavour. Summer cooking is all about fresh food and optimum laziness for me, so chives are a great garden chum to have around.

Here's what I did:

1. Put my pasta water on to boil.

2. Went outside with a pair of kitchen scissors, grabbed the whole bunch of chives by the hair and snipped them to an inch above the soil. Then I carefully picked a mixed handful of leaves from my oregano, rosemary and cilantro pot (any mix of Italian herbs would be great). I threw them all on my chopping board and went at them with my mezzaluna (that half moon blade Nigella uses to chop herbs).

3. Diced my tomatoes with a sharp serated knife.

4. Heated the pan to med-high, threw in the tomatoes, a pinch of salt and a glug of olive oil. Threw on the herbs and tossed for about a couple minutes to allow the tomatoes to sweat a portion of their juices and simmer lightly with the herbs and seasonings.

5. Turned off the heat and tossed it a few more times till the flavour was even (You can give a toss here or there inbetween draining and plating the pasta).

6. Threw the sauce on the pasta and tossed with a little olive oil, some sea salt, fresh ground pepper and fresh parmesan.

A bit of sunshine on a rainy day. :)

Yum. Can't wait till my baby basil grows up.


<3 pamplemousse

Garden Photo A Day: Spanish Onions from Bulbs

Sprouting bulbs!

B's Mum gave us 5 Spanish onion bulbs from her garden, along with a bucketful of herbs and wildflower seeds. She is the reason my garden exists!

Thanks Mary!



<3 pamplemousse

Garden Photo A Day: Beans Unfurled, Hello World!

My Tendergreen bush beans gave a yawn, stood tall and stretched themselves out proud over the last day or so. Mama Greenthumbs (me) is so proud to see their infant first true leaves unfurled and basking confidently in the summer sun. Their bright shock of youthful spring green is my favourite colour today!

<3 pamplemousse