The Mousse and the Pamplemousse

Spring at Chateau Kwassant

2011-05-08T10:24:00.002-04:00

Ah spring. In DC, that means that overpriced elitist farmers markets are starting up. However, after a long winter, subsisting on root vegetables, I was ready and willing to shell out for some asparagus and strawberries. I even splurged on the poppies that I suspect are worsening my allergies – but with looks like that, who could resist?

I whipped up some pasta with roast asparagus and lemon juice with walnuts and Parmesean. Really simple, really delicious. The best thing about brunch at home? The extra asparagus without the extra charge. The only downside is that I finished it with no extra for dinner.

More seasonal goodies

2011-02-28T07:34:00.005-05:00

I couldn't help myself. In addition to the cheese heart, I ordered some rose petal confit and decided to put its first use towards some Tea Rose ice cream, thus adding to my ever expanding flavour offerings at Janicey Goodness (aka my kitchen). It helps that I have a nice view of a faux English Garden Courtyard.

I was a little overzealous with the use of rose water, indiscriminately pouring it into the custard when I thought that wasn't fragrant enough. Olfactory senses numbed, it wasn't until the next day when I realized that my perfumed custard might be....extremely rosy. And surprisingly yellow! (Presumably from the egg yolks) My mistrust in commercially produced (perfectly powder pink) deepens.

Be still my heart....

2011-02-20T10:42:00.002-05:00

I couldn't resist. Near valentines day, I sent for a Cheese Heart. It was on sale at Murrays Cheese as well as some adorable jars of rose petal confit. I'm not one to observe this occasion, but it was too cute and the disappearance of my other love (monte enebro) from most cheese retailers around here was enough to push me to the brink of purchase. In my very vulnerable state, all I needed was something (ANYTHING! brunch, pigeons....garbage??!!) to remind me of NYC and I'd go on a virtual Murray's Cheese binge.

Speedily, the Cheese Heart arrived. My human heart raced. Momentarily distracted by the Monte Enebro and dried sour cherries, the Cheese Heart waited patiently in the cheese drawer.

The rind was incredibly velvety and pillowy. The label said that it was a natural for Valentine's Day" In fact, the whole eating experience of this cheese was like a great first date. It looked appealing. It wasn't overpowering, but it was firm (not a pushover). It was buttery smooth. Almost mild, but had enough complexity to hold your interest enough to want more.

(a small) Jamie revival

2011-02-05T17:03:00.003-05:00

Sometimes I procrastinate making the week's food on the weekend and suddenly it's midweek and I'm foraging like a raccoon through my fridge, eating pickles and cheese when I really should be thinking about making a pot of something substantial.

This early Jamie Oliver chicken recipe seemed to require just about as little effort as I was willing to put into. So little effort, in fact, you could spend more time eating it than making it or thinking about it. It doesn't even require any babysitting, so It's even better if you want to take a nap before dinner and awake to a delicious smelling apartment.

Jamie, you've been replaced

2011-01-30T11:33:00.019-05:00

I'm sorry Jamie, but all that butter's gone to your gut, and the wild pheasants and truffles hunted and picked in your private country woods have buried your naked chef-ing with too much inaccessible excess. I'll always love you, and I love what you do for kids and the cooking helpless, but... I love a new celebrity chef now.

Hello Sophie, The Delicious Miss Dahl.

She's gorgeous in any shape, is Roald Dahl's granddaughter, and not only do I want to make and eat her food, but I want to wear her clothes, inhabit her (fake) kitchen, listen to her music, beat eggs in her second hand teacups, and live her lovely life.

The Delicious Miss Dahl opening sequence

BBC only ran six episodes before cancelling her. Each episode is inspired by a certain eating mood: Selfish, Romance, Melancholy, Celebratory, Nostalgia, Escapism. She tells anecdotes about her Norwegian grandmother, and explains the history of dishes and food items, like the Arnold Bennett omelette, or Napolean's distaste of pyramid-shaped cheese. She recites poetry centred around food and love, and gives you precious kitchen tips like dabbing meringue mixture under wax paper to keep it in place on the pan. She sticks her hands in food, not so the camera can get a choice shot of her cleavage, but because it's quicker, and saves fuss.

The first episode I watched, "Selfish", chronicling a day of indulgence and self-reverence from breakfast, lunch, to dinner and dessert for one, was absolutely pitch-perfect. It made me want to mix a dirty martini and listen to her fawn over cheese all evening. So I did (sub fennel and peppermint tea).

You can watch Selfish here if you are in Canada (or check your local food network website).

This was her recipe setlist for Selfish:
1. Arnold Bennettish Omelette
2. Buffalo Mozzarella Bruschetta with Shaved Fennel and Courgette
3. Peanut Butter Fudge
4. Dirty Martini
5. Roasted Halibut Steak with Sweet Potato Fries and Wild Mushrooms
6. Rich Chocolate Pots with Cherry Liqueur Surprise

Buffalo Mozzarella Bruschetta with Shaved Fennel and Courgette

Tart on Tartan

2010-11-23T15:35:00.006-05:00

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

2010-08-10T11:41:00.005-04:00

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

2010-08-10T09:31:00.005-04:00

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

2010-08-06T16:42:00.007-04:00

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

2010-08-06T07:40:00.009-04:00

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

2010-07-20T22:27:00.002-04:00

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!

2010-07-19T00:22:00.007-04:00

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

2010-07-14T07:00:00.000-04:00

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

2010-07-12T07:00:00.000-04:00

Look what B left in a fruit bowl one day.

Sweet Basil Babies

2010-07-10T07:00:00.000-04:00

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

Away

2010-07-08T00:01:00.001-04:00

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

2010-07-07T11:38:00.007-04:00

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

2010-07-06T23:19:00.005-04:00

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

2010-07-06T12:16:00.002-04:00

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!

2010-07-05T11:31:00.017-04:00

.
.
.

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

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

Zen and The Art of Lettuce Maintenance

2010-07-04T11:09:00.006-04:00

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

2010-06-27T12:55:00.010-04:00

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

2010-06-25T11:48:00.013-04:00

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

2010-06-25T11:43:00.002-04:00

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

2010-06-23T11:50:00.007-04:00

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

2010-06-23T10:16:00.003-04:00

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

2010-06-21T12:02:00.016-04:00

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

2010-06-18T16:50:00.006-04:00

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!

2010-06-17T12:55:00.004-04:00

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

Garden Photo A Day: My first strawberry is blushing!

2010-06-16T08:42:00.003-04:00

Isn't it a cutie? I wonder what made its ears hot. ;)

Garden Photo A Day: Tomato Flowers

2010-06-15T13:35:00.006-04:00

Red Candy plum tomatoes growing in bunches - B. wanted a high yield of tastiness this summer.

<3 pamplemousse

What you get for being a pessimistic gardener...

2010-06-15T09:00:00.000-04:00

my mesclun salad mix at 2 weeks old.

...Overcrowding like a Tokyo condo!

"Spacing! Pfffft! Staggered sowings? Pish Pash! Maybe ONE in ten seeds will sprout at BEST and I want lettuce NOW!"

Hmm... Er.. Ahh. Huh.

Gardening Lesson # 1: The seed packet knows what it's talking about.

So I set about thinning them...

At the garden centre I found two used plastic seedling trays that they let me take for free. Their shallow bottoms would work just fine for shallow-rooted baby lettuces.

I also transplanted a handful of seedlings at the correct spacing next to the main row...

...Well that takes care of 43 of about a gajillion seedlings.

Hmm. *Scratch head*

Gardening Lesson #2: Give in to the Dao; let it be!

We'll just have to sit back and see what happens in... Survivor: Garden Battle 2010, The Lettuce Edition.

Garden Photo A Day: Arugula Sprouts

2010-06-14T17:10:00.005-04:00

I started a vegetable garden for the first time this spring. It is just a tiny plot outside our front door but I've been finding myself crouched over it several times a day like a mother hen wondering what her babies are up to.

Above are the arugula sprouts I thinned out of my thickly sown patch. Is it crazy that I was traumatized by killing my vegetable babies? I've grown so attached, tearing them away from their life-giving roots was tough!

I was pleasantly surprised though by how much the taste of them varied by the size of the sprouts. The very baby ones were hot and peppery and the slightly larger sprouts had a milder, sweeter flavour.

These sprouts are about two weeks from planting. I've made a resolution to post a garden photo a day to show you how my babies grow.

<3 pamplemousse

Icey Goodness

2010-05-18T21:57:00.007-04:00

In rebellion against expensive ice cream ($6 per half pint), I've turned into an ice cream factory. It all started innocently enough, with a large tub of vanilla bean ice cream. Quick and easy, no stewing, no seeping, no chopping – just a quick splice of the vanilla pod and I let it chill out in the fridge before it turned into frozen creamy goodness. Then enticed by cheap and surprisingly sweet strawberries, I produced another couple of tubs of strawberry balsamic ice cream. First I roasted the strawberries in some balsamic vinegar and then then threw some extra balsamic into the custard before it chilled.

A couple of days ago, one of my coworkers commissioned a tub of olive oil ice cream. The only place we've had olive oil ice cream is at Otto's pizzeria in New York, where they also coincidentally have a strawberry balsamic offering as well as other delicious flavors. On one particularly hot summer day, my friend Melissa and I went to Robert Moses beach when the currents were ripping and the jellyfish were out, but we still were hell bent on swimming. Once we came back to the city all toasted and crispy, we went to extra virgin for dinner and sat outside and ate grilled fish and toodled over to Otto's with our boogie boards in tow for some gelato. 3 flavors each – olive oil, lemon verbena and salty caramel. It was deeeeeeelightful.

fresh but still goopey from the ice cream maker

Anyway, I digress. Thanks to David Lebovitz, I now have a tub and a half of lemon olive oil ice cream in the freezer, and hopefully a happy coworker tomorrow.

So to commemorate my first food commission and to underscore how I've turned into a mini ice cream factory, I've come up with my name (thanks Angela!) and logo....just in case I want to expand my delicious (mini) empire.

My ice cream offering will be artic themed – polar bears being adorable, penguins throwing ice cream snowballs being insufferably adorable, I can change out of my winter outfit if one weekend I decide that I want to set up a lemonade stand in and charge Georgetown prices for a (fancy) cup of lemonade.

In the meantime, if you're in DC and want some Janicey Goodness, I'll all ears, eggs and spatulas.

General DC-ness, stomach still firmly lodged in NY

2010-05-02T10:12:00.016-04:00

Oh no! Blog neglect!

So sorry for the winter absence. I've spent the cold part of the year shuttling back and forth, trying to learn french and pry myself away from NY, but every 3 weeks or so, my stomach says SHABU SHABU! or Diner! and I always find a good excuse, give in promptly and make a scramble for the Acela. I've tried to eat my way around DC which resembles midtown, to almost no avail. I've had friends who are also NY transplants confirm that I should save my appetite for trips up north. Besides a bargain, and enough leftovers for a steak and egg breakfast the next day, DC food has always always always left me wanting something a little more special (Except the steak frites with the mysterious green sauce as Bistrot du Coin) and wishing that I cooked at home instead.

This is not to say though, that I am not enjoying the fresh air, flowers, languid weekends, and my larger kitchen. I can now afford enough time for a weekend paper subscription, quality time on the couch and a decent night's sleep with a nap in the evening. Small things that make me happy – showering and eating before dark. The word "suburbia" no longer makes me weak at the knees and grass doesn't make my heart go aflutter. I'm struggling with how much of my New York City induced psychosis I should let go of – the sound of traffic at night, for one. But dammit New York, your food and farmers markets are unmatched.

The silver lining though, is access to Polyface farm's metropolitan buying club that delivers to the Takoma Park area in Maryland. It's a well run operation with tons of coolers and boxes of eggs. How it works is that you place an order with the farm to pick up at a specified location at least a week in advance – there are a handful of locations to choose from. All you have to do is pick out some food and wait for your delivery day. They'll even lend you a cooler bag if you don't have your own. Joel Salatin raises an exquisite grass fed steak. I also have a couple of pastured chickens in the freezer. The Salatins were made famous by Michael Pollan's book the Omnivoire's Dilemma and his farm was subsequently featured in Food Inc. and Fresh the Movie, two films about food, produce and responsibly farming and eating. I recently went to a Joel Salatin lecture at Columbia as he waxed lyrical about happy chickens as I stared, transfixed, by the chickens on his tie. Knowing that I now live within his food shed pacifies me somewhat. Now my last bastions of hope for fresh, moderately priced vegetables are the Veggieporium at a farmers market in Glover Park, unaffiliated to the FreshFarm markets (I ate reasonably priced sugar snap peas to my heart's content today) and my CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) which should start up in a week or too which will deliver vegetables direct from farm to doorstep.

So many gastronomical trips have been undocumented in the last quarter, so indulge me while I spew some of the highlights of this year's indulgence.

First dinner of the year in NY. First at 5 Leaves in Greenpoint, then at Roebling Tea Room. I have mixed feelings about that place. Love the atmosphere, not so much the staff.

Sun's up, time to hightail it to Abraco.

Brunch time!

More brunch at my other love, Diner. I had a bit of a strange sandwich I'm glad I tried – a fried oyster and country pate sandwich on focaccia, but probably not the best while still waking up. Angela had the country breakfast with rabbit sausage. slurp.

Bunch again! Pumpkin pancakes at Kitchenette.

Brunch with Rachel & Ed at Prune featuring the Steakginormosaurus.

Brunch with Melissa at Flatbush Farm. More eggy delights.

A legitimate reason to be back up in NY! A wedding! And a tasty one too with a mini cupcake wedding cake, BBQ, and yummy drinks.

Secret restaurant underground. I won't tell where!

Murrays Cheese Shop, the happiest place in the world. I used to live a 5 minute skip away from here and I'd bring back cheese and munch on them on the fire escape.

Adorable ice cream truck. With unicorns.

Oh, shabu shabu! Nothing is more delightful than dipping slices of raw beef into a hot pot, then dredging them through ponzu. I'm fortunate enough to be friends with dedicated shabu shabu enthusiast, who is seldom able to turn down a night of feasting, although I oftentimes out eat Nick by a full half hour. The other great thing about this arrangement is that he is also a little lactose intolerant, so I get to eat an extra scoop of green tea ice cream that comes with the meal at the end.

Meanwhile, back in DC:

Sofia & Colin come to visit. Their only complaint? Noisy birds at 5am.

Master chef Colin whipped up some steak and eggs with some hashbrowns and asparagus wrapped in prosciutto. I made some pizza.

Small bundles from the farmers market and a slightly oversized rhubarb galette.

Oh DC, we have some growing pains for sure, but at least you're charming sometimes.

Secret Supper Club

2010-01-31T09:06:00.023-05:00

Berlin is a city of subcultures: art house squats, anarchist bars, locationless dance nights, and secret supper clubs. For my first foray into underground dining in Berlin, I had a guide. My new Australian food buddy Rohan (now with new Sydney food blog) sent me the menu the week of:

* ~ *
An Apéritif
Pickled winter vegetables, parmaschinken, and little lettuces
Ricotta gnudi with pumpkin caponata
Lamb and root vegetable stew with farro
Apple cobbler with ginger ice cream
* ~ *

"Wait! How do I get there? There's no address!"
"No, there isn't."
"How do people find out about it then?"
Rohan cocked his head and gave me a sly smile.
"You just do!"

We met beforehand at Rohan's favourite gourmet food shop in Prenzlauerberg to choose wine for the evening. There would be wine there as well, but being lushes on a budget, we decided to come prepared. We chose three bottles for the four of us, the highlight being a German wine from a small winery that has totally taken my heart: Holger Koch, a delicate Pinot Noir (Spätburgunder in German) from 2007. This was not like any Pinot Noir I have ever had. Retaining all the complexity of this difficult grape, it was so light as to almost resemble a Rosé in colour and weight. For a wine industry whose strength is floral and fruity Rieslings, this red was a beautiful showcase of the power a light wine can have in impacting the palate. I took home an extra bottle for Christmas on a hunch (and was duly rewarded with an approving nod from Dad over Turkey dinner).

Rohan led us to an apartment building in Friedrichshain and we followed the buzzer directions to the third floor. We were greeted by a friendly American, who was the host and server for the night. He explained to us after the dinner that he was a DJ originally from NY who had come to Berlin for the opportunity to play 80's disco to an appreciative crowd(!). Gotta love Europe for that. His partner was the chef, also a New Yorker. Having found a day job in a local bakery, he missed the pleasure of cooking full meals for guests and the idea for the supper club was born.

The living room turned dining hall was cosy and comforting, as though we had been invited to a special event in a friend's home, perhaps an engagement announcement or the celebration of a birth. The room was set up with 4 tables and about 18 guests. Our party of 4 was seated with two other expats - our table consisted of 2 Australians, 1 Swede, a Belgian/German, a Russian/American, and a Chinese/Canadian. Naturally, the conversation turned to the question, "Where do you come from?" and how complex that question is becoming in a world where the old idea of national identity shows itself to be a transitioning chameleon, a creature uncertain of where to belong but sure of the list of places it wants to go. Introductions are no longer the simple fare they were designed to be. At least not in Berlin, where you are more likely to meet a Turk, Korean or South African than a native Berliner.

The sparkling wine aperitif served with a twist of lemon started us off lightly and delicately. Our friend, Ceci, ordered the most delicious German beer for a more substantial aperitif - Riedenburger historisches Emmer Bier. I have spent the last two months searching every specialty shop, liquor store and late night corner store for this taste of heaven and come up empty handed. (HELP!) The beer hails from a small organic and artisanal brewery in the South of Germany. It belongs to a lost tradition of beer brewing originating before barley made all other grains in the brewing industry obsolete. Brewed with emmer (farro wheat), einkorn (a traditional German wheat) and spelt, it is rich without being heavy, complex without being overwhelming. Nourishing and round, and still light enough to not be a meal on its own. You can find an excellent review of this beer here. Riedenburger is only an hour from Nuremberg... perhaps a roadtrip for lebkuchen and Emmer bier is in my future.

The starter was a refreshing take on the seasonal and local, pairing parmaschinken (a German take on prosciutto) with German folk fare of pickled winter vegetables and brussel sprouts, giving some of the most underrated members of the vegetable kingdom a class and elegance truly deserving of them.

The entree was in my opinion, the star of the meal. The pairing of creamy ricotta dumplings with spiced and roasted pumpkin winter comfort was pure genius. I made a mental note for future mid-winter dinner parties.

The main was a satisfying but unremarkable lamb stew that allowed the conversation to take the main focus, turning animatedly to Jordana's 10 day silent meditation retreat, Buddhism, Daoism, and well, Heidegger. (what else am I good for in the middle of thesis writing? ;)

The apple cobbler was elegantly cupped and had a delectable puff pastry crust. The fresh ginger ice cream gave a beautiful lift. More European than American in its weight in the mouth, this dessert was a hit for me.

At 25 Euro a seat, this alternative to The Shy Chef was a treat.

Palisaden Supper Club, Friedrichshain, Berlin.

Pet Eggs

2010-01-30T11:55:00.015-05:00

One of the most annoying things about DC is the proximity between things. One cool shop is at least 2 blocks from the next one, leaving me with lazy legs, blistered feet and a slight aversion to exploring. Also, my size of my DC fridge trumps the size of my NY fridge by at least half and is now taller than my person, which means a very arduous trek home with heavy HEAVY bags from the grocery store or farmers market, at least half a mile a way. Even up in the boring upper east side I had my pick of grocery stores (though either crappy or expensive). 4 of them within a quarter mile radius and dozens of delis sprinkled in between the supermarkets so planning last minute fritatta or pancakes was no big deal if I ran out of milk. or potatoes.

<rant>
I'm also aghast at farmers market prices here. Come on, get real. Michelle Obama is for these farmers markets, but when you have to pay $2.50 for a pound of apples or $4.50 for a dozen eggs, her local produce activism has to be a little more than just requesting a farm stand to be planted outside the White House and making vegetables in her backyard.
</rant>

I fretted for a couple of days about expensive eggs from a (i suppose) trusted local source and weighing them against less expensive eggs from a suspicious mass distributed source and ultimately decided to buy the cage-freest eggs I could at whole foods. Until I casually struck up a conversation with a coworker who interestingly enough bought a quarter of a pig from a farmer and picked it up from the butcher when it was ready (a quarter of a pig is a large amount of pork). She also gets free range eggs from a friend for free. Free range eggs? From pet chickens? I began to salivate and asked her how much it would cost to buy them and have her bring them in to work for me.

$2 a dozen. Approximately 17¢ an egg, compared to 38¢ an egg.

Pet eggs. They were so pretty. Some were brown, some were grey, some were white and some were blue like my apartment walls.

In the morning when everything is still quiet except the sound of pouring coffee, I make soft boiled eggs mixed with soy sauce and strips of toast without fear of salmonella. The yolks fall out and ooze a bright orangey yellow and are hard to clean once they stick to the bowls – the hallmark of happy chickens that lay eggs packed full of vitamins and omega-3s.

courtyard view from my kitchen

After staying up to watch the tennis finals last night, I woke up when it was snowing and made some soft boiled eggs and blueberry pancakes as fat fluffy robins hopped around on the frozen pond. Is this what civilized living is?

Now to find some pet milk.

Handicraft Hash House

2010-01-28T20:32:00.023-05:00

My friend Ted has always given me food for thought over the years, often over a whiskey or two into the wee hours, so when Ted and Roisin invited us to London (Ontario) a few weeks before I took off to Europe this past August (I know, I am attacking my post backlog!) for a barbecue and campout to end the summer, I was thrilled to finally be tasting his "thought for food" (that's "thoughtful food" said with a mouthful of Ted's homemade burgers!).

You see, I met Ted in Halifax, Nova Scotia way back when he was a fine arts student at NSCAD (now NSCAD university). What started as a couple kitchen jobs to pay the rent took over as a full-on artistic passion and career. I left Halifax in 2006 having had only a small taste of his famed gelato flavour creations at the popular but now closed, Dio Mio Gelato house on Spring Garden Road. I remember being in town briefly to see the first attempt at home brewing stacked in Ted's living room (my former apartment), sealed and fermenting. Sadly, I left before I got a chance to taste any.

This August, in Ted and Roisin's new home in London, we finally got the full treatment. We were fed homemade burgers with the full fixin's and a fantastic spread of goodies. The highlight was the most impressive homebrew I have ever had in my life - a delicious Cerveza (Corona and Sol are examples of Cerveza), and a couple darker brews, including a hearty nut brown that I loved. B and I stuffed ourselves around the campfire and got to know Ted and Roisin's London crowd.

(Pesky camera strap wants a bite of my huevos rancheros too!)

The gastronomic peak for me was breakfast the morning after. Ted had started a pot of Mexican beans from the day before straight from dried to let the spices seep slowly in as the beans hydrated, slow cooking through the party festivities into the morning. When we woke up, we were treated to an authentic huevos rancheros breakfast cooked over the still burning coals of the campfire. The beans had a fantastic aroma and heat to them and Ted made my eggs deliciously runny, just like I like them. This was served with homemade guacamole and campfire-heated tortilla bread. As if this wasn't pampering enough, we were also treated to fresh watermelon and lime margheritas to accompany breakfast and give it an extra kick.

Ted and Roisin have created a beautiful home for themselves in London, with a vegetable garden out back, Roisin's textile studio for Bespoke Uprising and Repeat overflowing into the halls, and a kitchen humming with Ted's latest catering and food delivery venture, the Handicraft Hash House.

Ted's signature is the incredible thought and detail he puts into his craft, from the organic and locally sourced ingredients, to the second edit of the food manifesto he sent me recently for another look, to the design of his new food labels (you can give your input by joining the facebook group: The Shoofly Appreciation Consortium).

You can order Ted's homemade meat pies, baked goods, preserved soups, sauces and pickled foods here and even set up a weekly meal delivery service within the London area. (w/ occasional trips to Toronto and Essex County). HHH Pies span everything from Cornish pasties to Jamaican patties to crawfish. I am intrigued by the Kentucky Burgoo, a stewed concoction of small game (rabbit) and mixed vegetables, a recipe originating in hobo camps of the 19th Century American West. And from the preserves and spreads, I can't wait to get a lick of his Calvados (apple brandy butter).

On the habitué delivery menu this week...
bread - anadama bread
soup - scotch broth
pies - Jamaican patty, bierock and tortiere
potted meal - polenta povera

Oh, Ted. Tell me you were serious about couriering that meat pie to Berlin...

Eating jumpstart

2009-10-22T19:03:00.005-04:00

Sorry for the lack of posting – I haven't been eating. I've been stressed out, scurrying around like a headless chicken, looking for a new place, packing, ridding my current dwelling of a stubborn mouse, fighting an ant invasion and other nonsense.

Then came the new stress....my quest to eat at all the restaurants where I haven't yet eaten at before I skip town and move south to DC. After packing up enough boxes to make me feel like it won't be a mad dash to the finish and buying a lovvveeely yellow Le Creuset cast iron pot (it is waiting patiently in its box) and lifetime supply of All Clad cookware from the Woodbury outlets, I felt like I could concentrate on eating well, rather than getting perpetual take out from Chipotle (indigestible, according to my farmer's market conditioned stomach), eating hot oatmeal, while trying to console myself in apartment in complete disarray.

After half an apartment's worth of boxes and a cup of emergency coffee from the Mud truck, I had some sense kicked (caffeinated?) into me as if to say "why are you drinking sub par upper east side coffee from around the corner? You should know better than that!!! Now stop eating this garbage." Therefore, I'm on a very serious mission to eat my way through New York City again, a little like the Very Hungry Caterpillar.

I started with Abraço. It was so amazing, I've been there ~~twice in two days.~~ ~~three times in 3 days~~. 5 times in 7 days. The coffee was good and lethal. I've been trying to hard to get there in time to eat their fritatta, but I am always too late. Last weekend, the last slice of fritatta was eaten in front of me, while I diligently waited in line for a consolation prize of Concord grape cake, a cured olive cookie and a rose almond cookie.

Today, instead of a fritatta, I munched on a warm green salad with blanched tomatoes and a grilled eggplant and mozzarella sandwich while contemplating another coffee.

Then there was the time I got some corn soup.

Then there were the two times I got a pork sandwich with Rachel and Melissa (separate days) after coffee.

And then got a cupcake from Butter Lane with Rachel.

7th Street used to have all my favourite stores but it's kinda turned into an eating street, starting with Abraço, then moving down to Porchetta (formerly a boutique called Sugar) and finishing off with Butter Lane.

Last week, like a crazy fiend, I trekked out in the rain for the coffee, meeting my friend John there. After 2 cups, I melted into a semi delirious state, saying how relaxxxxed I was and it was like God had parted the skies and I could see and think clearly again. John glanced sideways at me and said that he felt like he just did drugs with me or something.

Today, I sipped as I looked out of the little counter, envisioning romantic thoughts of me on an Electra Amsterdam cruiser bicycle with FAT tires and a basket, transporting baguettes and running out for coffee in Georgetown, "tooling by the mall", zipping under cherry blossoms on my way to pick up a quiche. Man this coffee is so good.

So if any of you want to hang out and say See You Later before I trade a shoebox apartment for luxurious residence with a dishwasher and separate bedroom, we can make a date at Abraço, or Roebling Tea Room – my other New York love.

Tomme Du Berger

2009-10-06T21:49:00.006-04:00

I'm not sure who took this photo – I found it on a blog in Swedish and since my Swedish is limited to the alphabet, tongue twisters (Knut knöt en knut bakom knuten, och när Knut hade knutit knuten så var knuten knuten...anyone? Sex kvistfria kvastskaft?) and uh.."green hedgehog" (grön igelkott)...I am not sure who it belongs to. Anyway, it is a lovely photo, but it is not mine.

I've been eating increasingly stinkier and stinkier cheese. In college I used to wander into Murrays and make all sorts of timid cheese choices. Tasty, but timid. I'd munch on Felino Salami and Pyrenees Brebis (which is a delightful combination, btw) and buy all sorts of interesting cheddar with nettles. Then I started my extreme obsession with Monte Enebro (Spanish goat's milk cheese with a blue ash rind) that I used to have with Grayson or Adrahan. They were wash rind cheeses but they were still pretty civilized, meaty and beefy. I finally hit my Monte Enebro peak when I was in London and had some deep fried and decided that I almost died and went to heaven and subconsciously decided that my imaginary mission of Monte Enebro was complete.

On my birthday this year one of my friends gave me a little piece of Hooligan by Cato Farms...a super stinky cheese that smelled like the insides of boots on a spring day. It was a little nutty and a little sweet but really...pungent, in a dainty way. After that, nothing was ever quite the same. Because then I had some Gres des Vosges. And I was so enthralled, I brought a whole slab of it to my friend's apartment who was put off by it immediately and was quite visibly offended, saying that she loved me but she really could not understand me and stinky cheese...until she tried it. It's a little yeasty and nutty and seems like it would be a good idea to wash it down with some beer.

Then, one day when I was waiting half dazed at the Murray's Cheese counter, the cheesemonger called my number and asked me what I wanted and I pointed to the Tomme du Berger and said I wanted a quarter of a wheel. As well as a staple slab of Monte Enebro and a third of a pound of the strongest Stilton so I could make some roasted pear salad. I'd never had any Tomme du Berger before and I don't even remember the description on the label, but it seemed compelling enough. It's a raw sheep and goat's milk cheese, I think the goat's milk is from Provence. It a bit of a finicky cheese because it goes in and out of season....right now supply is dwindling because there was a drought in Provence, so I recently purchased...quite a lot of it.

It is..........LOVELY.

It is my new favourite cheese of the moment, ousting Monte Enebro. So if you are not in New York (because I kinda want to hoard this cheese for myself), get thee to a cheese shop and buy some Tomme Du Berger before it disappears for the rest of the year.

Flirting with danger: Pizza Making

2009-09-30T11:11:00.006-04:00

(Prosciutto, olive and arugula pizza)

I've never had the urge to make pizza because I'm both lazy and intimidated of the thought making the dough. More lazy though, because I know if I start making it, it will be a semi-arduous journey to perfecting it. Also, the store bought ready made crusts look abominable.

I started talking to my friend Angela about pizza and how I read about people trying to fool the thermostats in their ovens so they could get the oven temperature way up high and she got excited and said she had read something like that as well and it inspired her to try. She also said that she used to make her own dough, but now buys the ready-to-roll type from Trader Joe's that costs $0.99 and comes in regular, whole wheat and garlic herb.

So the real secret of making pizza isn't really a secret – it's a really hot oven. But the secret to making great pizza at home is trying to get the oven and cooking surfaces at hot as possible. Sooo, Angela recommended that I preheat the oven to 500 degrees (fahrenheit) WITH the baking stone or tray already in it before doing the pizza assemblage (make sure the pizza dough is thin, because a thick Chicago style crust is also an American abomination). Then, slide it into the oven and turn it up to BROIL. The reason for doing this is so the bottom of the crust gets crispy and doesn't turn soggy from the ingredients on top. When I asked her how long she baked it for, her reply was "until it's almost burning."

OOK. Also, she used a piece of parchment paper while broiling the pizza which seemed a little dangerous because you're not supposed to use it in temperatures beyond 375. To which she said calmly that the paper would be charred, but the pizza would be ok – just monitor the situation.

I was getting worried about setting my kitchen on fire with no renter's insurance.

So as I was stocking up on dough at Trader Joe's, the check out guy recommended a safer way to make pizza. He used to make his own dough but also started using the Trader Joe's dough. He said to bake the dough for 1 or 2 minutes before adding the toppings so the middle wouldn't get soggy. This seemed much safer. Of course, my friend was wary about baking something twice and ruining its texture. I was still all about not setting my kitchen on fire.

Sometime that afternoon, I read about someone who recommended an industrial torch to make creme brulee because the refills were cheaper and it did the same job as the dinky kitchen counter top torch that was three times the price. That was the time I realised that I really appreciated a gutsy cook and decided to make pizza Angela-style.

The first and second times I made it, it was a great success and made it with Prosciutto, artichoke hearts and (with and without) arugula.

The second time I made it, I used a base of pureed tomatoes and some haberno salsa I made the day before. In addition to the mozzarella cheese, I added some Fontina cheese, which made such a difference.

It's so quick to make and always a crowd pleaser and it's something that I make in a pinch, squeezed for time and need something for dinner right away. I still haven't figured out exactly how long it takes to almost burn – it's between 8-11 minutes.

A Near Religious Experience

2009-09-27T12:51:00.002-04:00

Last week, I snagged the last of summer blueberries from Samascott Orchard and hoarded them in the fridge for as long as I could. (about a week. Apple cider french toast instead of blueberry chocolate chip pancakes?) This week, I bought a bounty of little plums in an effort to wean myself off blueberries. This weekend I made some onion, tomato and goat cheese omelet with a side of roasted beets to take my mind off blueblerryless pancakes.

So last night after I made an early dinner (poached turbot with oyster mushrooms over barley with some delicious broccoli), I put on some Feist and Seabear (my late night cooking mix) and got to work making a plum crumble that I saw on Orangette, together with some earl grey ice cream. The tea steeped happily with the milk, cream and sugar mixture as I pitted the plums and tossed them up with a coating of crystallized ginger, brown sugar, flour and cinnamon. It smelled so delicious even before it was baked. And since the recipe for the topping was so similar to cookie dough..........why not get some extra mileage from the mixer before washing it.

It was near midnight and I smelled of baked goods and earl grey, and probably had flour in my hair like some plum crazy Creulla De Vil. When I finally pulled it out of the oven, the plums looked so lazy as they peeked out of the cracks in the crumble and spilled out around the edges. I was tired and still had to watch the roasting beets and make and cool the custard, but when I spooned out some of the crumble, it was like a religious experience. I think Vipin and I finished off close to half the baking dish yesterday. So much for hoping I could make this stretch out for days – I'm trying to forget that it's camping out in the fridge.

Recipe on the Upper West Side

2009-09-21T16:22:00.004-04:00

I realised I've been struggling to find a term for the type of food I like – all this farmer's market local fare, food flavored by the freshness of ingredients themselves and some herbs that don't really have a distinguishing sauce to give themselves a cuisine name (black bean sauce - Chinese food. Terriyaki Sauce – Japanese food. Too much butter – French food.). I'm always asked what type of food I cook at home – you mean you don't cook Chinese food? Chinese food is often garlic, ginger and a lot of sauce. I cook up whatever I find fresh at the market, with minimal sauce, but with garlic and sometimes ginger – what type of food is that?

Over the weekend Salman and I were struggling to find somewhere for dessert and coffee. I held out until almost 3 with no coffee and was quickly turning really cranky. Surreptitiously, we chanced upon Recipe, with unfinished wood beams the inside looked...charming. We didn't really need to contemplate the menu further after seeing 'pork rilettes' and 'foie gras terrine', and made a mad dash inside. I instantly forgave them for not having espresso drinks, downing cup after cup of filter coffee, college diner style in big cheery yellow mugs.

We had such a charming afternoon, I poked around their website to see how they talked about themselves, what they called this type of food.

Salman looking really...strange. and really creepy.

Apparently, it's called Rustic. I think they call it Rustic American, but I would hardly call foie gras terrine American. And I think Rustic is a good word, because it isn't shy and it isn't dainty, but it is hearty and makes you happy. Food in its real state, not deconstructed or wobbling about in a precarious tower. Hearty, Happy and Homemade. As food should be. I found it peculiar that at a restaurant in Zurich, the server announced to us that the creme brulee was fantastic, and it was made in the restaurant itself. I ordered it, but was really bothered by this because shouldn't everything that a restaurant serves be...made...in...the restaurant itself? (Aside: I popped into a cafe that I quite like and they advertised "Homemade Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches" and I automatically assumed that they made the bread and made the jelly, but I spied a bottle of Beth's jam. Incidentally, I have bought Beth's Jam before from the Farmers Market, but I think it is deceiving to advertise HOMEMADE sandwiches when what it REALLY was, was Home-Assembled sandwiches.)

Anyway! We had a lovely afternoon. What was originally meant to be coffee and cake turned into brunch #2 (blueberry chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast), and we polished off toffee banana goodness and a delightful pignoli tart. This competes with my other love, The Roebling Tea Room, another Rustic sort of place.

Sweet Dreams

2009-09-20T22:02:00.002-04:00

I was surfing youtube after I rewatched Her Morning Elegance by Oren Lavie, which always reminds me of fall and the last time I started the school year, sweaters and of New York being a little too cold, of melancholy and hope and anticipation. I've come to love fall and the cold that comes with it, snuggling in white comforters, waiting for vegetables to roast and chicken to brown.

I digress! So as I was surfing, I found this other stop motion video by Kristen Lepore which is so cute, sweet and heartbreaking. It also shows why vegetables are better than sugar.

Sweet Dreams from Kirsten Lepore on Vimeo.

Dinner date with lovely weather

2009-09-11T17:39:00.003-04:00

A couple of months ago, popped over to Cornwall, when I pit stopped in London for a long time. (Popped over, meaning taking the 8 hour overnight train from London to St Ives. It is the best way to do it, in my opinion.) Cornwall is pretty spread out, so it takes a couple of days to explore and eat. Cornish food is probably some of the best in the United Kingdom. Almost everything is near the coast, which means seafood is plentiful, there are tons of free roaming cows and dairy products are excellent and all things point to a generally tasty time.

What I usually did was ate a ridiculous breakfast at the bed and breakfast and went off out of St Ives for the day, walked and saw gardens and beaches and came back for dinner. On the last evening, I got back to St Ives and climbed over the hill to the other beach (there is a beach at the St Ives train station as well as on the other side of the town), and had dinner at the Porthmeor Cafe Bar.

Cornwall as a little bit of a surreal time. Especially since there was excellent weather. Grumpy warned me not to bring any shorts because I wouldn't need them and to bring a woolly sweater (jumper?) It was so hot, that I had to stretch the summer portion of my bag so thin, and got a sunburn on top of that. The locals said that this sort of weather was unheard of, but I was none the wiser, meandering through tiny cobbled streets on the way to the train station early early in the morning, with seagulls screeching intermittently overhead. The roads are so windy and little and the town was so small I didn't bother with a map. In the 4 1/2 days I was there, I didn't manage to pin down a route to or from the train station. Inevitably I'd slip into another road and I'd go off on a walking tangent.

This was about a 5 minute walk down a steep incline from my bed and breakfast, and maybe a 10 slow uphill struggle from the cafe back up. My favourite thing to drink while I was there was elderflower cordial/water/juice/soda.

I had some ricotta fritters and some turbot with potatoes that were scrrrrumptious, curled up with a Cornish food magazine that used some matte paper stock and had a large fish on the cover and watched crazy people swim in the ocean. God it was cold water. Then, before attempting to drag myself up the REALLLY STEEP HILL back to a HOT SHOWER, I came across a mini Stone Henge on the beach:

Roast and Borough Market

2009-09-07T17:50:00.005-04:00

I just got back from a week and a half vacation with my grandparents in London and Zürich and after pots of fondue, slabs of delicious raclette, schnitzel, wurst, chocolate and so much cheese, I hurried to the farmer's market this morning and bought so many vegetables and steamed up the most flavorful broccoli, roasted some eggplant and snacked on grapes and felt somewhat cleansed after last week's epic eating.

Roast sits above Borough Market, and has a great view of everything. We sat near a window, but you can also choose a table with a view of their kitchen. They were also voted best breakfast by the Times. And you know you're in for a good time when the menu lists the sources/farms they buy from at the back of the menu:

We ordered some toast, which came with some homemade jam (gooseberry (most delicious), marmalade and strawberry) with a cylindrical mound of butter.

And when we came in, I saw POTS OF JAM sitting by the kitchen with the dates that they were made clearly marked on the sides. Our jam was about a day old.

Then we ORDERED.

Too afraid to order a side of award winning Cumberland sausage by myself, I asked my granpa if he wanted to share. He agreed. But we were so stuffed, that by the time we attacked our sausage side, we both ended up eating half a sausage each. My granma ordered some kippers, which looked like.......a prehistoric fossil. It might as well have been because it was like an archaeological dig through all the bones. They were a little strange tasting....

But my smoked trout and scrambled eggs were so DELICIOUS

When we were good and stuffed, we walked around the market, checking out fresh produce and cooked food, lots of salami and cheese. You can get full on samples alone in the market

AN OBSCENE BOUNTY!!!!

I nearly balked at the price of fava beans. Surely 4 pounds a pound for fava beans is completely and absolutely ridiculous since you need to shell them, then boil them, then you remove their skin after that. What you're left with is a delicious bean but you generate much more vegetable scrap for not much bean productivity. The price of artichokes was also a little questionable. BUT! from their leaves and forks at the end of them, you can tell that they are the real deal, and probably will taste spectacular, not like their friendlier looking but bitter tasting counterparts.

Then there was fresh fish and...horseshoe crabs? I wonder what it is like to eat a dinosaur.

Then I bought some gooseberry and elderflower jam

and some Damson yogurt made with raw milk

The USDA has outlawed unpasteurized milk in America. It is dumb, but also exciting if you can get your hands on illegal cheese, I'll bet it would be super tasty. I had some Illegal-in-America yogurt, which was lovely and delightful.

By the time I came across this, I could only bemoan the fact that I was too stuffed to eat, so I might have to...replicate a similar delicacy.....

So does this mean that there is bacon mixed into the baguette dough? Or bacon in the baguette? OR BOTH?!

London

2009-08-29T17:30:00.002-04:00

MAN, I am so slow. I was behind on my vacation posts from a vacation that happened 2 months ago and never got around to writing fully about London and Cornwall, and now I've lapped myself. Trench-coat clad, I had some roast duck, roast pork and more roast pork with some delicious vegetables and more rice than I've had in a month, which can only mean that I am in London.

I am also very jet lagged.

After a long long long and restless flight, I spent the 3 hours after it sleeping across 3 chairs in a transit lounge in Zurich with a hoodie pulled so far over my head that it covered my eyes. Then I spent the rest of the afternoon in a haze and groggy. Now I am so alert I'm not sure what to do with myself.

My grandpa wanted to take me to The New Covent Garden in Vauxhall tomorrow morning, a wholesale market that is what the original Covent Garden was. However, it is a little hardcore. It starts at 4am and ends at 10am. Should I still be awake at 4am, I will know where to go. Instead, I'm opting for normal person hours, a kick start to the day at Roast (voted Best Breakfast by The Times....which Times, I'm not sure, but I'm sure we'll have good times), overlooking Borough Market. Then we will feast on ice cream as we feast our eyes on fresh produce and mountains of cheese. (As I'm typing, I'm getting more and more curious about this wholesale market......I think I will go on Monday morning at the crack of dawn.)

But rewind to two months ago!

I was soooooo sick, so soo sick in London, I didn't really eat much of anything except for some yogurt, fresh picked strawberries and coffee. So during the time I was well enough to stand on two feet, I perused the candy aisle at Harvey Nicks (above) and found ADORABLE cakes at M&S.

A HEDGEHOG cake?! I wanted desperately to have a hedgehog themed birthday party with hedgehog themed loot, but it fell through in a major way....if only I had access to this cake!!!!!!!

Then I spent an afternoon contemplating chocolate and cute candy at Fortum & Mason after seeing the Waterhouse Pre-Raphaelite exhibition at the Royal Academy of Art.

Wiping out the fridge

2009-08-26T20:07:00.007-04:00

In an attempt to finish all the fresh produce in my fridge before I leave tomorrow for a week and a half, I woke up early, frantically shucking corn and carving up leeks so I could toss the scraps in with the rest of my compost so I could haul it to the farmers market and dump it out.

I'd already made my college speciality the night before – zucchini and mint sauce with Parmesan, all ready to be frozen. It sounds odd, a zucchini and mint pasta sauce. But I remember having lunch at an Italian place with a friend that I have never been able to find again and they had a zucchini and mint pasta. I was determined to replicate it and I've made this so many times now that I'm not sure what the original tasted like. But this has a load of zucchini, a bunch of mint (be very generous), cook them together in the pan and blend with olive oil. Then mix in Parmesan and sprinkle some of it on top. I ate it with some sirloin and what I thought were the last of the tomatoes.

Then I made blueberry sauce with the 2 pints of blueberries I impulsively bought 2 days ago. And then I planned something for the fairytale eggplant and the swiss chard.

When you roast fairytale eggplant, it is exactly like a fairytale and more magical than Cinderella's glass slipper. The long dark purple ones were my favourite. Then I made the corn and the leeks and set them aside.

The ingredients seemed to be growing by the minute. I have a quart of milk to finish. I hate milk, so I have plans to turn it into chocolate milk before bedtime. Then I unearthed a potato. Then a bunch of onions. Then I remembered the heirloom tomatoes. How did I squirrel away so much food?! Then to my dismay, I uncovered 2 ENORMOUS artichokes. They are so large that only one of them fits in my little pot at a time. I had a little one two days before.

So tiny and so cute.

But this one was a MONSTER. Once I found it, I immediately consumed it, and was rewarded with a big juicy heart. So now I only have one more to go.

In between loads of laundry, I have to squeeze in loads of eating in a rush to save all my food from spoilage. I bought some flounder to go with the vegetable overload that I'm subjecting myself to. And just when I think that all is calm in my kitchen and my stomach and everything is under control, I remember the container of vichyssoise in the fridge.

Pancakes, again. and again. And a blueberry massacre.

2009-08-24T13:06:00.000-04:00

Grumpy invited me over for breakfast last week for pannncakes and a delicious time. I brought some orange juice and stinky cheese (Gres des Vosges) It is incredibly stinky. It is actually supremely stinky. But its bark is worse than its bite..it is light, creamy and tastes a little yeasty, like beer.

Perfect fluffy rising pancakessss...one on each burnerrrrr. They were light and delicate and delicious.

I can't really go a week without having pancakes. It's like I'm on a timer – not the compulsive caffeine frenzy routine every morning to avert a headache and minor mood disasters, but more like a flip of a switch and the swift automated assemblage of dry ingredients and dairy early on Sunday mornings.

I invited Melissa over for brunch and decided when my feet hit the floor that I wanted to make blueberry sauce to go with chocolate chip pancakes.

(Melissa's romper matched my chair)

So I went to the farmer's market opposite the low income housing in the lower 90s on 1st Ave. I was horrified. Whoooooooooooooo in their RIGHT MIND charges $2 a head of garlic when you're trying to sell to sell to people who probably can't afford to pay that much for some garlic. Even I am unwilling to pay $2 for garlic. Are you CRAZY Norwich Meadows Farm? And $5 for half a pint of raspberries is outrageous. Think about who you're selling to. I ignored the farm stands and went across the street and bought 2 pints of the most legit blueberries I could find in the store.

Anyway. Melissa brought the orange juice and we had some lemon curd biscuits, while the blueberry sauce stood by. I poached some eggs. Fished out some roasted beets from the fridge. Made some toast. And some coffee. And tea.

I adapted the pancake mix and blueberry sauce from Ask Aida. She says to use 1 1/2 cups of blueberries and 1 cup of maple syrup. No wonder type 2 diabetes rampant. I used a pint of blueberries and probably about an eighth of a cup of maple syrup (maybe a little more) and simmered it until it was thick and luscious. She also calls for half a cup of melted butter into the pancake mix, which I also think is questionable. I put in probably about 1 1/2 tablespoons of butter and used some whole wheat flour.

They were a little more cakey and thicker than Grumpy's, but still as delicious. Every pancake is different and special. I loooove pancakes. It totally made up for my failed spätzle experiment which yielded delicious spätzle, but I ended up with dough all over the stove, all over the sink, all over different pots and all over myself. It was a right mess. So were these chocolate chip and blueberry pancakes, but at least it was a result of eating and not in the making process.

The blueberry massacre. Delicious sauce.

Vichysoisse with some je ne sais qua

2009-08-21T18:01:00.005-04:00

It is too hot to be thinking about dutch ovens but if I had one, yesterday would probably have been the most useful day to have one. However, that did not deter me from making some vichysoisse in a free (small) pot that a neighbor left out on the landing a couple of years ago that has served me extremely well. I now have three days worth of cold soup in my fridge. Delightful.

I'm not sure which recipe I used. I think it was something like 2 cups of potatoes, 2 cups of leeks, some onions, 2 1/2 cups of chicken stock and 2/3 cups cream and a bunch of ice, adapted from maybe 4 or 5 different recipes off tastespotting.

P.S. This heirloom tomato is beautiful. I have tomatoes spilling out of my fridge, but I had to add this one to my bounty

Kitchen Envy

2009-08-21T17:59:00.002-04:00

I went to Broadway Panhandler the other day to oggle at kitchen appliances. The thing about going to a kitchen supply store is that inevitably, I want everything there and consequently come away with nothing because I am too overwhelmed. That, and carrying home a 30 pound apparatus in an unwiedly box would deter many from an impulse purchase. Instead I tote bag in small increments little useful things: spatulas, multipurpose clips, a meat thermometer (in the same color as my apartment walls), but none of the big stuff. No food processors, seltzer water makers, pasta rollers, pasta pots, 12 inch skillets that double as weapons or multiple saucepans. Besides, my kitchen wouldn't accommodate such wares since it is about the size of half a shoebox. I've gotten a lot of mileage out of my kitchen but that doesn't stop me from lusting after other kitchens.

In aura blue...

In chirpy yellow to match all my robins egg blue accessories and appliances

LOTS OF SPACE

General coziness

I think when I next move and if my kitchen opens out into the living room, I'm going to buy a huge prep table from ikea and use it as a fake island and plant it in the middle. I think it would be spectacular.

Speaking of kitchens, I gathered up all the similarly colored things in mine collected over time and uncovered this ridiculous spectacle:

Blueberry Cake

2009-08-20T09:44:00.008-04:00

How fortuitous that I saw this on tastespotting.com and discovered some blueberries at the back of my fridge, waiting patiently to be TURNED INTO CAKE. Also, miraculously, I had all the ingredients except for the cloves, but I don't think I missed them in the cake. It made up for yesterday's failed falafel and late late LATE dinner appearance (11pm). Also I think the glaze went overboard with the sugar (3 cups JUST in the glaze? Get real. That's three times the amount of sugar that's in the cake), so I made my own glaze: 3/4 of confectioners sugar and 1/3 cup of lemon juice.

(Incidentally, Stephen Colbert had Marion Nestle on last night to talk about the sugar shortage.)

I have a silicone angel food cake...mold....that is extremely easy to unmold (I guess I can't really call it a pan?). The cake popped right out with no incident and now I have too much blueberry cake to know what to do with. If you're in NYC in the next 48 hours, you're welcome to over for some cake and coffee!

Making things

2009-08-16T11:01:00.016-04:00

Originally uploaded by Molly | Orangette

I'm currently reading a book by Molly Wizenberg, called A Homemade Life. It's part biographical, part cookbook, as her narration revolves around the kitchen and it really brings the story of each recipe to LIFE. She talks about how her father made perfect french toast and delicious potato salad and generously shares the recipes. She also recently opened a restaurant in Seattle which I am very curious about...it's not often I have restaurant envy, since I am fortunate enough to live in New York and anything and everything I could want to eat (save for real Chinese food, which I am convinced does not exist in America) is within 45 minutes of stepping out of my apartment. And she takes lovely photos.

It's a little strange because I was always a little food averse growing up. It was a bit of a bother because you were always eating constantly and it became a bit of a drag. I also suppose it's because I had no part to play in feeding myself or making sure I put food on the table when it was dinner time. All I really had to do was show up. And there is no magic in food if you are not a willing and active participant in its making or in its flavors or in what it tries to impart to you in an experience. My biggest triumph was making a pot of instant noodles with an egg stirred into it in secret at midnight for a snack when I was about 12. And it was magical because I made it.

Stuff that happened in the kitchen was a bit of a mystery to me. Even today, I am hesitant to make this earl gray angel food cake because I remember when my grandmother made those cakes they seemed SO tedious and her mixer was deafeningly loud and the wire whisks were pretty frightening to me. And then we had to wait around for it to bake, then it needed to hang out upside down for a while before we ate it. This is preposterous because I know the elaborate ice cream custards I've made have taken forever to manifest themselves as frozen treats. There was one time when my dad asked me if I'd like to help him make some chicken and I asked if he was going to make it from scratch. He said of course. I was thoroughly disappointed when I saw him pull a chicken out of the fridge and said "I thought you said you were going to make it from scratch." In my mind, making chicken some scratch meant either raising it from an egg, or gathering together stuff like salt, seasoning and other sand-like substances to make a chicken, I suppose, out of thin air.

I think making things takes a lot of the fear out out of doing things. Vipin asked if we could make falafel again this week...and by 'we' he means me. Partly because I don't want to deep fry, don't wish to deep fry, but more importantly don't really know exactly what goes into falafel, anddd until recently haven't broken out my blender in a while, I've been skirting around falafel for a while. Besides, anyone and everyone can have perfected falafel for $3.50 at Rainbow Falafel at Union Square. I thought of it as an unnecessary cooking endeavour. But then why make bread or ice cream or potato chips (or beet chips) or pizza or grind your own beef patties or make your own meatballs? So tomorrow, I hope I'll make some falafel.

In other new eatings, I bought artichokes and made them at the last minute. I have only heard about the hassle of eating artichoke, but I wanted to see for myself. It's actually not that tedious and I'd rather eat barrels of artichokes than have sticky peach and mango juice dripping down my arms. I steamed them according to this, and later squeezed the mushy garlic clove into the olive oil and balsamic mixture held in an egg cup. And yes, the egg cups have feet on them.

Melt My Heart with Cast Iron (and other food)

2009-08-15T11:12:00.014-04:00

All of sudden, I want a dutch oven. I had no desire to make stews or casseroles, but now I want nothing more than to brown some beef and make some bourguignon. This Le Creuset dutch oven is so adorable, and it melts my heart. A while ago I watched Julie & Julia and while I hated Julie Powell's character with a burning passion, Meryl Streep made a wonderful Julia Child. I nearly started crying when Paul Child bought her an ENORMOUS pounder for a Valentines Day surprise.

But no matter. I have a blender that was a present from an ex boyfriend...might as well make the next best thing to stew: soup.

I was at Le Pain Quotidien buying a medium latte with maximum shots of espresso at 8am as I flipped casually through the Food and Wine magazine and saw a recipe for zucchini soup which looked so green and refreshing for a hot hot HOTTTTTTTT day ahead. I'd already bought all the ingredients, including some purslane on a whim, which is a strange coincidence because I've never bought purslane before and I suppose it is an unusual thing to buy on a whim. After yesterday's epic day of cooking and wilting on my part, I thought I'd take it easy and eat leftovers today. But...NO REST FOR THE WEARY. POTS OF SOUP! INTO THE BLENDER. INTO THE FRIDGE. I've reached new limits of bursting at the seams fridge, I almost need to ram into the fridge to make sure it stays closed.

Hopefully this pays off. It's been so hot lately and I'd like nothing better than to drink cold soup all day, ESPECIALLY since I was too lazy to make some and ended up with food poisoning from some tasty but lethal gazpacho. Nevvvver again. Time to make my own soup.

Here is what it is!

I realised it wasn't quite chilled enough yet (it is a HOT day and my fridge is a little overcrowded), so I've popped it back into the fridge for a while. I'm sure it is delicious.

Then, I felt an impulse to poach some eggs even though I have never done it and have only heard stories about how it went wrong. So as I was watching tv, I casually watched a 2 minute video on the side on how to do it, went to the kitchen and repeated what I saw. Since it was a rousing success, I decided to make an impromptu brunch: poached egg on smoked salmon toast and salad with apples, beets, goat cheese and balsamic with a sprinkling of lemon thyme.

FINALLY. The result of countless weekends of brunch now manifests itself in my tiny New York City kitchen. I am overcome with joy.

Handy Dandy

2009-08-13T10:48:00.014-04:00

I've been making a lot of ice cream lately because I don't feel like shelling out the money for something that's packed full of sugar and 'natural flavors'. It's either that or paying an arm and a leg for regular exotically flavored ice cream when you can just as easily make your own. Besides, it's empowering when you know you've MADE THIS FOOD WITH YOUR BARE HANDS. RAWR. It's modern day hunting and gathering.

Mint chocolate chip ice cream

Vanilla ice cream

Earl Grey Ice Cream

Basil Ice Cream (custard making as I type) & lavender honey ice cream (eaten)

I like David Lebovitz's recipes the best (do not balk at the number of egg yolks and cream, I usually use 5 yolks instead of 6, 1 1/2 cups of milk and 1 1/2 cups of cream instead of 1 cup of milk and 2 cups of cream...I like the consistency of it a little better this way). There are many many many ways of making ice cream and everything calls for something to be done a little differently, so I'm always confused as to what to do.

When I found this handy dandy most useful ice cream recipe maker, I was overjoyed.

What you do is drag all the ingredients you want into the window and when you're done, it'll spit out a recipe. Perfect! No more scouring the interweb for Lebovitz recipes! Fantastic.

So now, the basil custard is in the making, the milk simmering with the entire basil plant that I decimated. I saved one stalk and made some heirloom tomato, basil and mozzarella goodness (with some olive oil and some 8 year old aged balsamic vinegar) and it really screams to be sitting pretty on this plate from Fish's Edd y. Hmm....I sense a considered impulse purchase. Together with the grid paper tray that I want to serve cheese on so that I can cut my cheese into precise squares and rectangles.

My little appetizer is sitting pretty with some lovely yellow flowers Luke from the farmer's market gave me in exchange for some fresh baked muffins on Saturday. I love barter. These flowers are scattered in various vases, containers, old vinegar & wine bottles around the apartment.

Left: Bottle of 2006 Monpertuis, Counoise (an all-Counoise grape wine). It's $12 and won't bust your budget and goes great with red meat. Very delicious, light and crisp. It's the only red wine that hasn't knocked me out. I had 3 glasses at once with a big steak and was very happy.
Right: Bottle of White Balsamic Vinegar from O&CO. It is DELICIOUS with some Basil Olive Oil on salad.

Things on my chopping board and fun with mushrooms

2009-08-11T19:19:00.015-04:00

I saw this enormous guy at Keith's Farm at the green market a couple of weeks ago and promptly beamed the image to Pamplemousse. I love peace loving vegetables. It also looks like a large slug. (It would be like bringing home a pet.)

I tote home all this produce on the weekend in overflowing bags. Almost all of them end up on my cutting board at some point which hmm...sounds a little ominous. I love fresh produce especially when they aren't perfect – it gives them CHARACTER. Let's see your BATTLESCARS, little tomato! It's like it fought to end up on your plate. I pull stuff out from my grocery bags, and every so often Vipin will ask what character I've brought home this time.

Baby heirloom tomatoes from Eckerton Hill Farm & a little kirby from S&SO. They were so happy to be in my salad. CHOMP.

These guys were from my family friend's garden up in Ipswich. They're little pattypans which I think look like pacman ghosts. These are tiny tiny, but I also have the mothership in the fridge the size of a baseball glove. I love how the little ridges on these two point down on the left one and up on the right, like fraternal twins. If you are gentle and stir fry them lightly with some garlic they are pretty amazing. Think airy zucchini.

SPINY cucumbers. These taste surprisingly sour....I'm not sure if I liked them.

This was the most delicious heirloom tomato I have ever tasted. It was also one of the prettiest and most astounding when cut open.

the TROUT

Trout are such funny fish. They look so grumpy like they're saying mrmph I'm a trout. I went to the Lobster Place at Chelsea market which was a HUGE fish market where I bought some escargot and lots of fish. It's probably the closest to a wet market I've been to in New York and I felt really empowered when I left with my bounty because I used to go with my grandmother as a kid and whine and complain about how smelly it was and how grubby it was and walked gingerly through the market like an ordeal. Now it was just me and my stomach.

I was so excited to buy the fish that I didn't check to see if they were gutted. Great. So I watched countless videos online of how to gut fish, was all prepared and almost fearless, wielding a knife. So when I unwrapped them, I was delighted and very relived to realise they had their insides taken clean out. SCORE!

So I'm probably not as fearless as Julia Child, but I'll get there.

Anyway, I broiled these with a special Fridge Raid concoction sandwiched in their bellies. I mixed up a good handful of basil, parsley, some garlic, lemon juice, lemon zest, salt, pepper and olive oil foraged for in the depths of my fridge and slathered into the fish and popped it into the oven.

The Trout! They Beep! And are EXTREMELY delectable, one of my favourites.

This is from the night before when I produced two bunches of mushrooms, oyster and brown as they undulated in the air conditioning when I took them out. These were half cooked in a little butter and garlic and then spread out over a small baking dish with two big cuts of turbot on top. Douse with soy sauce and a little water. Cover with tin foil and bake for 20 minutes. Voila, ticket to heaven!

Deconstruction of an Artichoke and Fancy Tapas

2009-08-11T15:35:00.008-04:00

I have become a little obsessed with all things artichoke, though I am still puzzling as to how to get the heart out of a fresh artichoke. I've done this twice now...

First, steam the artichoke.

Second, peel off each leaf one by one, slowly and delectably dipping in oil and balsamic and scraping each little bit of meat into my mouth. This is fun, and calorie burning...

Third, peeling and scraping faster and more anxiously, wondering when I will get to the heart...

Fourth, anti-climax! No heart, just Nothingness! That's great for my Daoism paper, but not for my tummy! :(

Where did it go?

* ~ *

For a second course, we made a tapas-inspired spread...

Baby beets done Jamie Oliver style... absolutely divine. Baked with tons of garlic, some marjoram, balsamic and oil in a tinfoil bag. Balsamic caramelizes and steams the beets at the same time.

Tapas style summer ratatouille, my own creation, inspired by the 222 Lyon Tapas Bar, the only authentic traditional Spanish tapas in Ottawa. Served with French bread, toasted and rubbed with garlic. I made all this with my Dad, it has become the thing we do for fun when I visit - make extravagant meals in his well-stocked kitchen.

Tapas Style Summer Ratatouille

This is such a nice alternative to a stewed tomato wintery ratatouille because the emphasis is on the natural, fresh flavours of market vegetables to speak (or sing rather!) for themselves without being leached into a sauce.

Ingredients:
- Asian eggplant (the small ones. I've given up Italian eggplant - it is so full of bitter juices, it's not worth the trouble.
- zucchini
- fennel (a nice alternative to onion)
- fresh, flavourful tomatoes
- 1 clove garlic (don't overpower the fresh taste)
- a mix of fresh Italian herbs (thyme, oregano, basil)

Directions:
- Dice all the vegetables in tiny cubes, with the eggplant cubes twice as big as the zucchini to anticipate shrinkage when cooking, equal total quantity of zucchini, eggplant and tomato, about half that of fennel.
- Sautee in olive oil in the following order: fennel and garlic, eggplant till it wilts and is soaking oil well (be careful not to feed it too much oil, it will drink whatever you give it), zucchini (same, but much quicker than eggplant).
- Season at each stage with minced fresh herbs, salt and fresh ground pepper.
- Turn off heat and toss in tomatoes and cook in residual heat.

It is important not to overcook the vegetables. The beauty of this dish is the fresh, whole and vibrant vegetable cubes.

Serve with French bread, or for a meal, serve over rice, couscous, pasta, or orzo. You'll be amazed at the incredible flavours.

With our tapas, we drank a bottle of my new favourite wine, Hidden Bench Estate Chardonnay (2006):

My Snooth review:

Hidden Bench Vineyards & Winery Estate Chardonnay 2006 (SnoothRank: 3.5/5)
Canada > Ontario (August 2009)
Beautiful chardonnay from Niagara. Begins with a controlled fruity oak, and in a dramatic flourish, turns to a long buttery caramel finish. myRating 5/5

P.S. The Snooth rank is 3.5 only because there is only one review, for which I gave it a 5/5!

Olive U Bread

2009-08-11T12:10:00.003-04:00

Olive U! <3 <3

Summer Salad

2009-08-10T13:30:00.007-04:00

I've been eating the same old same old when it comes to salad. Either an intense heirloom tomato and mozzarella salad or my first love, avocado corn and black bean salad. Or salad with guacamole, salad with red onion, blueberries and cucumber. I'm running of of salad ideas and have been saving my tomatoes for something special. I rummaged around in my kitchen and pulled out a recipe for corn and peach salsa and realised that I could make a Fridge Raid salad, which is a salad made entirely with contents from my fridge. This type of salad concept is very appealing to me.

I cut these proportions down to a two person serving and it calls for
2 peaches
1 ear of corn
1 quarter red onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
a good handful of mint or a good handful of basil, or both
miscellaneous blueberries (optional)
half a lime
half a jalapeno pepper

Chop the peaches, onion, mint and jalapeno, squeeze with lime, toss and set aside. Saute the garlic and after taking the corn off the cob, throw them in with some butter until the corn gets tasty and golden. Mix in with peach bowl and serve over greens (or eat with crackers) and sprinkle blueberries on top. No dressing required!

A couple of days back, the New York Times did an article about 101 different salads. Enjoy!

Perfect Pancakes

2009-08-09T21:37:00.009-04:00

I picked these blueberries with my friend TJ when we drove up to Boston last weekend. We saw bunny rabbits hopping through the bushes and got bitten by a zillion mosquitoes, but we brought back pints of blueberries and raspberries.

I think I was visited in the night by the Patron Saint of Pancakes after a case of pancake envy at brunch the day before. What to do with the pint of pick your own blueberries from last weekend's bounty? MAKE PANCAKES IMMEDIATELY.

So this is usually how it goes: I wake up on the weekends and have a chat with my mixer and see what both of us can whip up. Then I share secrets and whisper sweet nothings into its stainless steel bowl.

Then I forage for ingredients in my overground lair, also known as my suburban housewife's abyss.

So this is my pancake dilemma. What mix should I use? I hate Aunt Jemima maple syrup because it is all corn syrup and corn syrup and I have deep seated ethical issues with corn syrup. The whole wheat pancake mix though, is pretty darn good. The fluffy pancake mix from whole foods fluffs up a whole lot more, but doesn't taste as good. Should I just bite the bullet and make evvvvvvverything from scratch? Are scratch made pancakes better than premix?

P.S. The Knoll Crest Farm eggs and Ronnybrook milk (cows are offspring of "prize winning Holsteins") are delicious. I try to buy good milk and eggs because it does make a difference, nutritional value for money-wise. I would also be leery of eating cake batter if it contained suspicious eggs from a suspicious source. This is from the Ronnybrook website:

Michael Pollen, writing in the New York Times Magazine on 2004 stated that “organic” used to represent a set of values, good stewardship of the earth, and a commitment to the health of its creatures, rather than a marketing concept used by agri-giants.” Here at Ronnybrook, we try to live by those values.

I don't really trust the USDA certified organic products because I think it is a big marketing ploy and it is a waste of money to get certified to prove you operate your farm in a responsible and safe way. This is often not the case even in organic farms, especially organic mega-farms. Lovely capitalist America. The word organic means nothing to me.

Annnnyway, abracadabra:

I used the premix which is just a one to one ratio of mix and milk and an egg. BUTTER you pan first – this makes a world of difference. Then, put the pancake batter into the pan – do not mix your fixin's in. Lowwwwww heat. Then sprinkle on the blueberries and chocolate chips. Flip it, cook it and eat it, there's really nothing more to it!

I had mine with fresh whipped cream and maple syrup.

A Grumpy Lunch Special

2009-08-09T11:18:00.007-04:00

Last Friday, my friend Grumpy invited me over for a Grumpy Affair, which I thought was going to be a quick blue potato salad bite before we went to the movies, but was shocked when I arrived and saw a huge packet of Flying Pigs Farm pork chops hanging out of the table. What??? I am confused. It was only lunch time.

"EXTRAVAGANT LUNCH FOR RECESSION TIMES!" she announced and then got back to work, checking on the beets and zuccini, marinating and rubbing down the pork, celery waiting patiently upright in cups of water. We chatted about Julia Child, what else were we do DOO? About making chocolate cake with WHipped cream and champagne in honour of the Queen of SHeeba.

I was put to work making the blue potato salad. After boiling the potatoes, draining them and putting in celery, parsley and red onions, I mixed half a cup of mayonnaise, one quarter cup of mustard, 1 tablespoon of white vinegar, salt, pepper and cayenne together in a delicious blend mixed into the potatoes. delicious.

This is Grumpy's sunny yellow kitchen.

The secret to pork chop is that it likes medium heat, and you have to start it in a cold pan. marinate with a tiny bit of oil, salt, pepper and on the skillet side down, some sugar. It takes about 20 minutes in the pan altogether if you've got something as fat as ours. And let it REST.

We also some roasted beets and some grilled zuccini with caramelized onions.

yum.

Bon Appetit!

Fette Sau Part 2 - Meet the Meats

2009-08-09T09:17:00.006-04:00

I posted a while back when I went to Fette Sau for Lauren's birthday and ate so quickly I could only manage pictures of beer in jars in between the carnage. I went back with a friend yesterday, arrived promptly at 4.59pm and burst through the gates, securing an outside picnic table and then gorging on a tray of meats (no plates). It's a good idea to get there early, before the place actually opens, otherwise there will be a line out the entrance to order food and then you'll have to fight it out for tables. It's MOST uncivilized. We had a thoroughly civilized meal with minimal waiting and moderate debauchery.

Here you order meat by the pound and we had some brisket, veal something, pulled pork and something shoulder. I'm not sure what they were exactly because I didn't go up to the counter to order. Mystery meat plate! German potato salad, some pickles and some beer from Ottawa which had the word "St Lawrence" in it. I'm not sure why I was so checked out. Maybe it was because I was functioning on 3 hours of sleep, but that didn't stop me from ravaging half a tray of food like a ravenous vulture.

Pammmmplemousse, are you going to hurry down so we can EAT THIS?!

Then we went to The Roebling Tea Room, one of my favourite places to chill out. The last time Pamplemousse and Brian were here we ordered a cornucopia of delights, the most delicious of which was some black bean and grits concoction.

I miss both of you!

At the Roebling Tea Room, Februaryish 2009

Know Your Foodies -- Pamplemousse

2009-08-06T22:47:00.000-04:00

Mousse and I made a little Q&A piece to tell you a little about the food bloggers behind Mousse and Pamplemousse. Feel free to submit your own questions in the comments (or your own answers! We'd love to hear about our foodie readers!)

Food philosophy?
When away from home, I always travel with my stomach, on the lookout for the local, the authentic, and the new (to me). When in Rome, I say, eat as the Romans eat. Cheap, fresh and tasty street eats (that don't give you diarrhea) are what I am always on the prowl for as a traveler.
When I am at home, I keep my kitchen stocked with Chinese and Indian spices, and fresh and local produce from the market. And of course, my pots of fresh herbs. Currently only the oregano is thriving though. *sniff* I love spontaneous recipes and the creativity that comes with cooking in the moment. It's best to pick up at least one new or rare thing from the market to inspire a meal around.

If you were a food, what would you be?
Why, a pamplemousse of course!

I found this juice bottle when I was 13 in France and it has traveled with me from apartment to apartment since. I am zesty and good for you - all you have to do is be willing to trade in your regular orange for an alternative to your usual fare!

Favourite cuisine(s)?
Chinese cuisine will always have the most depth and breadth for me since I grew up on it. I also love Thai food for its winning and simple flavour combination (hot, sour, sweet, salty), and, of course, Japanese and Italian.

Last meal before the electric chair?
A big plate of freshly shucked oysters with grated horseradish and a squeeze of lemon. I would die happy (and a little delirious).

Signature drink?
Before my days as a grad student living in poverty, it would have been a gin martini with extra olives. Nowadays it is pots and pots of French-pressed fair trade organic dark roast coffee while I hammer away at my summer papers, and after I've called it quits for the day, the bartender at the local brewpub brings me a pint of their homemade IPA on sight.

Kitchen Gadget you can't live without?
Rice cooker. Every Chinese foodie's survival tool. My grandmother taught me that you can cook a whole meal in a rice cooker. Cook your rice, steam your veggies and crack an egg into a bowl to float on top. Hit the button and in 20 minutes you have a well-balanced meal. All you need to dodge the freshman 15 during that year of dorm living and awful cafeteria food.

Foodie Trends that Irk You?
Hippie cafes that throw a bunch of trendy ingredients together without knowing anything about food chemistry (don't get me wrong, I love hippies! But why can't we have organic and vegetarian food cooked cheaply by people who know food?).

Secret Guilty Pleasure?
As a form of procrastination, I return to the fridge several times a day for just another crunch of kim chi or pickles.
Also, admiring people's food tattoos, though I know it is über-trendy right now. I think I'd like a fennel bulb, or hot peppers in a food encyclopedia-style series with simple hand-drawn images. Or maybe a black line tattoo of my trusty cleaver, with my Chinese surname monogrammed on a corner of the blade. Too bad I have really sensitive, reactive skin so I can only ever fantasize about it.

Anything you don't eat?
Organ meat. Except for the occasional foie gras or duck liver pate.

Celebrity Chef crush?
Everybody knows my answer to this one... Jamie Oliver. I love his simple, fresh and gorgeous recipes. He has taught me so many shortcuts in the kitchen that I use on a daily basis. I love his Essex accent, his entire food philosophy, and the adorable alterna-measurements he gives in his cookbooks (e.g. two glugs of olive oil, a shake of salt, a handful of basil... etc). BLAH BLAH BLAH I could go on. Check out his newest project, Ministry of Food.

Your Idea of Foodie Heaven?
Stumbling upon a hole in the wall restaurant that no one has ever heard of with eccentric ethnic owners who talk with their hands and serve you the tastiest, freshest food you've never had before for a super cheap price. A holographic religious icon on the wall doesn't hurt either. The Foodie Holy Grail.

How About Foodie Hell?
Going to an overpriced restaurant with mediocre food and lacklustre service (so you can't really complain or ask for your money back), where a place is all show and no substance. ...And then the waiter asks you how much change you want back instead of just making the damn change for you. Why can't they just make the damn change for you?!? ARGH.

Favourite food blog (other than The Mousse and the Pamplemousse)?
Deep End Dining - Dining off the dark side.

How would you describe Mousse's Foodie Personality?
Well, if she were a foodie animal, she would definitely be a rabbit -- she is always munching on carrots, apples and fresh market veggies. I think she would camp out in the market if she could, she practically lives there. She loves fresh organic produce, high quality meats and of course, her Robin's Egg Blue All-Purpose KitchenAid mixer.

What would you do as your most diehard Foodie act?
Name my (imaginary) twins Anise (girl) and Clove (boy).

Know your Foodies – Mousse

2009-08-06T22:46:00.000-04:00

Food philosophy?
If it's not bolted down to the ground, has 2, 4 or 8 legs, EAT IT.

If you were a vegetable, what would you be?
Something in season!

Favourite cuisine(s)?
If there was one cuisine I could eat for the rest of my life, it would have to be Japanese food. There's a meal for when you're sick, for when you're well, for when you want to induce a heart attack, or if you want to be super healthy.

Last meal before the electric chair?
STEAK. With seasonal vegetables. And then Skyr with berries. And then some homemade ice cream.

Signature drink?
Coffee – any form of it except instant.

Kitchen Gadget you can't live without?
Kitchenaid mixer! What can't it do! (other than boil rice) It makes ice cream, cookies, muffins, cupcakes, cakes, pancakes, beats eggs, makes bread, rolls pasta, juices oranges, stuffs sausages!

edit: Can I pick 2 gadgets? I just realised that the mixer can't brew coffee.....

Foodie Trends that Irk You?
This HAS to be molecular gastronomy. I might as well shave some pencils and boil them down to a pulp and spread it on the plate and call it something preposterous like cedar emulsion with edible granite dust. I also cannot stand dishes served with foam. If we were meant to eat foam, sea foam would've made an appearance in restaurants long ago. My parents ate at a restaurant where they served a 'potato elixir' – I am suspicious of any place that serves an ELIXIR and expects to be taken seriously. My mother said that she suspected it was the water from boiled potato skins. Who knew I was pouring money and potato elixir down the sink when I boil potatoes for mashed potatoes?!

Secret Guilty Pleasure?
Buying cheese and hiding it at the back of the fridge.

Anything you don't eat?
Shellfish unfortunately! (allergic reasons, not religious reasons)
I do not eat anything that isn't sustainable (Chilean sea bass, any fish that has been over fished, endangered animals. But I will happily eat shark's fin, endangered shark or not, because if I don't eat the shark, the shark will eat me...and I do like to surf sometimes, so this is more of a safety precaution). I'm also not sure if I'd eat brains or intestines. And as a general rule, I try not to eat anything that contains ingredients I can't pronounce.

Celebrity Chef crush?
I love a charming grumpy...and Anthony Bourdain makes me laugh.

Your Idea of Foodie Heaven?
Living next to a small farm with delicious produce. My friend Christine said that my fridge looked like a suburban housewife's, full of homemade goodness.

How About Foodie Hell?
Big Agriculture Farming. Processed foods. High fructose corn syrup, modified starch, partially hydrogenated vegetable oils and their friends. Ingredients that I can't pronounce. Also, non fat milk products (excluding skyr).

Favourite food blog (other than The Mousse and the Pamplemousse)?
The Girl Who Ate Everything

How would you describe Pamplemousse's Foodie Personality?
Pamplemousse is the unsuspectingly small foodie with the BIG STOMACH. She packs away a lot of food very quietly and quickly when everyone else isn't looking. She seems to be very dainty, but is actually a carnivorous meatarian, with a a soft spot for HOT SAUCE and can also make a mean drink and a sweet salad.

What would you do as your most diehard Foodie act?
Just like guerilla gardeners that go around doing a social good by ripping out over planting or pruning trees at the dead of the night, I think I might go around at night conducting organized midnight raids of fake food, food containing corn syrup, food containing mystery ingredients, other bad stuff and hold a public burning.

Bare Cupboard Antipasti and Cross Canada Beer Sampler

2009-08-06T22:30:00.006-04:00

I guess I am working in a general backwards direction blogging my Ontario tour. First, another reunion story. The night we got back our good friend, neighbour and housesitter Maja came over to see us for the first time in a month (for B) and a week (for me).

I am particularly proud of last night's spread, since we had nothing, having been away and completely unstocked with fresh things.

Brian made a gorgeous focaccia with rosemary:

My Bare Cupboard Antipasti:

Basically this recipe deconstructed to go with B's lovely "flatbread", plus some dressed up artichoke hearts.

1. Bean dip with roasted garlic pictured above centre (can of mixed beans) (see recipe link).
2. caramelized onions (onions had awaited our return faithfully)
3. my dirty secret in-a-pinch lifesaver - frozen shrimp (I promise I will give this up if I get some generous PhD funding!). I marinated the shrimp in a Corsican herb mix, fresh grated peppercorns, sea salt, olive oil and minced garlic tossed on high heat.
4. That can of artichoke hearts bought on a whim at Giant Tiger came through for me - dressed up in a lemon (from the corner store) and olive oil.

The next treat was a Cross Canada Beer Sampler courtesy of B:

We sampled from right to left, light to dark, each bottle split among three glasses:
1. Steam Donkey Lager from British Columbia (B's cousin got married there).
2. Wild Rose Velvet Fog, a wheat beer from Calgary, Alberta (B nannied for three nephews there).
3. Pump House S. O. B. (Special Old Bitter) from Moncton, New Brunswick (B had a family reunion and attended another wedding there).

Not everyday you get to imbibe someone's travel route! My favourite was the middle one (I am usually a fan of middle beers).

Other refreshments for the night were also travel locale-based:

Another wine from my Beamsville Bench tour: Hidden Bench Roman's Block Riesling (2007). They were so classy they emailed me the tasting notes (not sure how to host PDFs on blogger? Help?) for the wines I bought when I got home.

An Armenian pomegranate dessert wine, Ijevan Factory Grenade 2002, from our friend, Gino, as a thank you gift to Maja for cat-sitting while he was away in Eastern Europe.

The rest of the night was spent in general silliness...

... and rocking out to Heart.

Summer

2009-08-06T20:25:00.009-04:00

A couple things that have made me happiest this summer:

1. Drinking club soda and lemon from market, mason, and jam jars (the grad student's Perrier).

2. The most romantic picnic ever:

I picked B up in Toronto on Monday at the tail end of my Ontario tour. He flew in from New Brunswick after traveling across Canada for a month(!) away.

This boy sure knows the way to my heart - he brought me fresh Malpeque oysters from his home coast for breakfast! We found a city park with a picnic table under a shady tree. The happiest morning of my summer, slurping oysters and grinning madly at one another.

Aw shucks, I have the cutest oyster shucker boy in the whole wide world. :)

:)

Craigie on Main

2009-08-06T17:52:00.003-04:00

One of the restaurants my cousin suggested that we eat at was Craigie on Main in Cambridge up in Boston. It's near MIT and Harvard and was very excited by the lovely pig on their website. I was also immediately seduced by the word "seasonal". Eat seasonally and you cannot go wrong. I think the last frontier of vegetable for me was peas. I'd sort of eat around them when I had fried rice and it was only this year when I started eating sugar snap peas raw because they were so good because they were so fresh.

So this is the first thing you see when you come in to the restaurant. The kitchen is all out in the open, right smack in front of you when you come in the door. Sorry for the unacceptable iphone documentation! It's a very civilized kitchen and I wished we sat at the bar (overlooking the kitchen)

The menu at this restaurant isn't finalized until 5pm on the day itself, so it changes depending what gets in fresh. I was most impressed by their "EAT LOCAL!" page at the back of the menu, detailing where they've sourced their products from. They also had a really large range on their menu. You could pick the prix fixe (amuse bouche, pick your own appetizer, main and dessert with dessert wine), the surprise tasting menu (6-10 courses, you pick how many you want to eat), the neighborhood special (appetizer, main, chef's special dessert pick), or regular ala carte. What was surprising and delightful was that the food in each of the categories were completely different.

This is joining my signature blackberry fizzy drink as a summer treat. It's fresh blueberries, lavender, lemon juice, club soda and apple cider.

This was a salad with mesclun and endives on a generous slabs of heirloom tomatoes, topped with fried onions. slurp.

The main was a bluefish, a really fishy but tasty fish on a bed of potato, spinach and bacon something with some yummy sauce.

My cousin ordered a side of MARROW, which tastes like meat butter. It is quite delicious.

This was my dessert, an olive oil and chocolate mousse (!) with candied walnuts and what looks like a chocolate rainbow. My cousin had a peanut butter parfait sandwiched between some sort of flat candied wafer topped with banana foam. I wonder if Elvis would've approved. One of my biggest food peeves is foam. I hate foam. It is like eating soap and looks like seafoam which is NOT attractive. Even the word foam isn't attractive. Why would you want to eat it and be "foaming at the mouth"? This foam however, looked more like a mousse, really dense whipped cream. It was pretty substantial, but when you put it in your mouth it disappeared completely. Immediately. And you were left with nothing but a very assertive flavor of banana.

Hands down this is one of the best restaurants I've been to in America, which is a bold statement. I love it when restaurants get their customers to be interested in what they eat and their servers have a real excitement for the food and know what they're talking about. I also loved the enormous and beautiful wall sized map of France at the back, together with a whole bunch of information on farms, local stuff and general goodness. It seems like it would be out of place for a fancy restaurant, but this is not the stuffy type of fancy, just the really good type.

Katamari (not Calamari)

2009-08-06T09:33:00.006-04:00

I've been in Boston for a couple of days, usually ending up at the Harvard COOP (bookstore) and reading like a fiend, hopping between the US Current Affairs section and the psychology section trying to make sense of the latest food politics food I've been reading (also makes for unappetizing writing), which makes perfect sense, but is pretty ridiculous. WHY is this the state of people's MINDS? Days of nasty enlightenment. So when my cousin picks me up to go for Chilly Cow frozen custard (ridiculous cow ambassador), I am delighted by the music he's playing in the car which sounds foreign, yet I've heard it before and I can't seem to place it. I ask what it is, and he tells me it is the soundtrack for a game called Katamari.

I am familiar with Katamari, and I'm convinced that I've played it in multiple dreams but not in real life. I've been told that my entire life is in Katamari, although I'm not sure what that means. You are a little prince in a green outfit, purple tights, a mallet like headdress and a single antennae. You're sent to earth with a sticky ball that you can use to roll up stuff starting small with sugar cubes, paperclips and erasers and sketchbooks, then onward to cats, animals, trains, bodies of water, airports and islands. Here's a really comprehensive explanation:

And here's a clip from the game. See the little guy running in the right corner? That's probably me at the gym.

I've downloaded the application for the iPhone and I'm not really good at this game. In fact, I'm pretty lousy. But I am still obsessed. How could you not be? SOOOO, the point of this is really these bad ass cakes. They're BEAUTIFUL and ridiculous and I think I might make one.

Katamari wedding cake
Originally uploaded by offwithyourtv

katamari cake 2
Originally uploaded by Callmesteam

100_1221
Originally uploaded by canmum

stars
Originally uploaded by sherrying

Also, I hate weddings, but here is an adorable one. Actually, it's outstanding.

Cornish Cows, Cream and Ice Cream

2009-07-31T18:22:00.005-04:00

I was going to write a post about London, but after watching the Eden Project DVD that I forgot that I had, I was eager to post about Cornwall. I went to Cornwall about a month ago, newly recovered from a monstrous illness that made me sleep 18 hours a day, or approximately 3 whole days out of 5. Determined to get better before I left, I took a load of antibiotics. If I was a cow, I would've thumbed my nose at me and refused to consume any of my dairy products or meat. Hell, I'd even consider my saliva toxic. But what can I say – I love human antibiotics when consumed responsibly and I don't plan to be eaten by any organically conscious carnivorous meatatarians on a blood thirsty food trail.

This is the standard postcard and painter's view of St Ives, a hilly little town by the sea. I decided this was going to be home base and found a B&B on the hill. Check out the view! This was just one of the windows of my room. There were 5 in my room.

I know England is the home of B&Bs, but I've had some pretty amazing B&B experiences in America. I stayed at Tregony Guesthouse and they offered either the full English breakfast with two kinds of bacon and more food you could stomach, or a healthier smoked haddock and poached egg. Either breakfasts come with cereal, fruit, yogurt, juice, toast, jam and coffee. Enough to push me over the edge if it wasn't for the absurdly steep hills with handrails to climb.

Anyway, I wanted to get to Porthcurno. The bus stop in St Ives is nondescript. The roads are so narrow, it's doubtful that a big bus could pass through them. Candice warned that buses were infrequent and things were difficult to get to in Cornwall if you didn't have a car and it was really a place where 2 or 3 days didn't cut it. No biggie, I had a bunch of time. So on the first day, and the most beautiful cloudless day, I decided to go to the hardest place to get to. No trains went there so it was alllllll bus. When I finally talked to the bus station manager, who rolled into work at 9.35, he told me that the best way to get there was to take service 300 all the way around. St Ives is on the top right corner of this crappy webcam screenshot map and Porthcurno is at the bottom, 1 stop past Lands End.

Jeepers.

When I boarded the first bus of out St Ives, I asked the driver what time we'd get there. And he said well, it was 9:45 now, and we'd get there at about 12:15. I balked. Then hesitated. Then I probably made a face. "But it's a LOVELY ride!" sigh. I paid the £6.50 and hopped on, thankful that I was still groggy from the overnight train ride into Cornwall and wasn't aware that the return ride was also another 2 1/2 hours.

It was probably the most beautiful bus ride I'd been on. It was open top and I roasted to a crisp on a cloudless day as we drove by fields and coastline. One of the first places we drove past was Zennor, which is between St Ives and St Just where Moo-Maid ice cream is from.

Actually, there is a legend about a mermaid of Zennor. But who cares about mermaids when you can eat some MOOMAID ICE CREAM? Especially when the ice cream comes from happy cows such as these:

This is how all cows should live, but big industrial agribusiness says NOT. So make sure all your beef and ice cream is grass fed, y'all.

Indeed, nobody can resist a moomaid! Unless you are unfortunately lactose intolerant.....or is that reallllly a deterrent?

On another day, I went to Trebah Gardens. Apart from a very nice garden map, giant rhubarb taller than you, some fresh fish and some Roskillys ice cream at the award winning cafe, I wasn't that impressed. It was rated one of the best gardens for children and since I'm easily entertained, a garden good for children is usually good for me. However, apart from a couple of kiddy signs and playgrounds, there wasn't anything every entertaining about it. Double disappointment, especially since I'd taken 3 trains and walked a mile to the bus terminal only to find out that the bus information was wrong and I'd missed my bus and the next bus was in an hour. I was fuming. I took a cab and when I arrived there, I told the concierge flatly that there was misinformation on the website and for an organization that prided itself on being green, encouraged sustainability and strongly suggested green travel, they made it AWFULLY hard to get there by foot and public transportation. I'm not that into gardens, but I'm into food. Flowers couldn't really make up for it. Only some Roskilly's Cornish Clotted Cream Ice Cream could.

Could you NOT be happy after this unless you had clotted arteries???

Look, happy bunnies!

Ice cream is all over the place in Cornwall. When I was so grumpy at Trebah, I made up for it with 3 ice creams. I had an extremely chocolatey one in Falmouth, the Roskilly's at the Garden and some Moomaid when I got back to St Ives. Good thing ice cream scoops in England are small. I also had some Kelly's clotted Cream ice cream in Porthcurno, but that was pretty unspectacular.

The Eden Project's ice cream was something to shout about though. I had 2 scoops of honeycomb and 1 scoop of ginger with the loose change I had left in my backpack.

This is an ice cream place under a verrrry cute cafe in St Ives, about 5 minutes from my B&B. What I'd like to know is...what is the Hokey Pokey flavour....

Spargeltown

2009-07-29T16:30:00.001-04:00

This happened in the beginning of June, I'm more than a month behind! I took a 5 hour train ride on the ICE from Berlin to Frankfurt Airport, where I met back up with Peiz, freshly flown in from Newcastle and the Take That concert and we drove SEHR FAST on the Autobahn to Heidelberg. I thought I might die. Just a little.

Heidelberg is the home of spargel (pronounced "schpargel", from what I can gather), or white asparagus. We went to Schwetzingen Schlossgarten. It was very ordentlich. and German. And full of manicured greens and spitting deer.

It was very pretty, in a controlled way. So my enthusiasm for it couldn't be shown by throwing my arms out in wild abandon and lunging across fields of short clipped grass. Rather, I restrained myself and ate an apple while walking and observing water fowl by the ponds.

In true German fashion, Peiz's boyfriend Andreas announced: OK, I have made a plan. First we will drive to Swetzingen, then we will walk around the garden. Then we will go home and have a snack, maybe some pastry. Then we will pick up the spargel and go to the Apple Store with my father. Then.....it's spargel time.

itallhappensreallyfast! let'sblastthroughthecherrypie! nowquickletsgogetthespargel!

Asparagus in Germany is usually white, unlike the usual green variety. And it's usually eaten with lots and lots of hollandaise and ham/bacon/ham and bacon. It's really mild, hearty, thick, but not terribly asparagussy. But then again, I'm comparing it to green asparagus....

Every morning we had a selection of at least 5 cheeses, a zillion different hams, tomatoes, an array of juices and coffee and a large pot of tea. I loved this bread! Who wouldn't love a loaf called Golden Toast?!

Andreas' mother made some tasty tasty stuff for dinner that didn't make it into my digital card reader :(

Random Gourmet & Viognier Overindulgence

2009-07-28T20:30:00.012-04:00

The dish: Mushroom curry, homemade pickles, and sticky saucepan carrots

I am going on a road trip tomorrow so I was looking to use up all the groceries from my fridge. I had a big bag of carrots (my Mom got a tooth pulled and I thought I would make porridge with soft veggies for her), and a big box of white button mushrooms my Mom got. I don't normally buy white button mushrooms since they are pretty tasteless (you could try a crimini maybe?) so I had to ponder for a few minutes what to do with them. I decided to slice them up and make a quick mushroom curry from the jar (actually, do this one second, I didn't realize the carrots would take so long - close to an hour boiling off the stock).

We picked this breakfast skillet pan up at a yard sale for $1. Best yard sale find ever. Perfect eggs all the time, non stick!

I dumped the sliced mushrooms and a sliced shallot onto the pan with a healthy cut of butter and salt. (I learned from a mushroom farmer at the Lansdowne market in Old Ottawa South that butter and salt are a mushroom's two best friends. Melt the butter and toss the mushrooms around in it for awhile till they've soaked it all up and the onions have started to caramelize (med heat). Don't leave them or they will burn, though a little charring adds flavour. Add a heaping tablespoon of Indian curry from the jar - I think I would recommend a butter chicken sauce but all I had was Raj Masala Balti Curry Paste. (Though I like Patak's as a brand). When the shallots are caramelized and the mushrooms browned, the curry is ready. Since my curry paste was tomato-based rather than butter-based, I turned off the heat and threw on a sliced-up fresh tomato and tossed that around in the residual heat for a bit. I would recommend the butter curry and no tomatoes if you do it right. I served this over some wholewheat couscous, which I realized is so much more flavourful than regular couscous, and goes really well with the buttery flavour of the mushrooms.

Next I decided to try Jamie Oliver's Sticky Saucepan Carrots for a fun way to cook carrots:

Find the recipe here, or google it if the link location has changed. This is a great way to bring out the natural flavours of carrots.

A few precautions:
1. This recipe really requires fresh market carrots. Since they are only seasoned with butter, salt, and pepper and cooked in their own juices, the whole dish relies solely on the flavour of the carrots, so supermarket carrots just don't cut it.
2. When he says "use medium-sized carrots", do as he says even though the luscious picture in the cookbook makes it look like he used the fattest carrots he could find in the bunch. It's not a problem of them cooking through, merely a flavour issue.
3. When he says fill the pot with water halfway up the carrots, err on the side of less than halfway or you'll be waiting forever for the stock to boil off. One-third-way might even do the trick since once it gets boiling, the water will roll up higher than the actual volume to cook most of the carrot (see picture above, where I only filled it halfway).

The finished carrots. Use lots of butter (I ran out) to get a tastier char on the bottom.

Lastly, I added a side helping of some homemade pickles I made a week ago. I used a kimchi base from the jar since it was my first time, but it just has the most basic ingredients, so doing it fresh shouldn't be too hard (garlic, salt, chilli pepper, sugar, ginger, vinegar). I used pickling cucumbers, fresh ginger slices, and daikon radish, but you can try your own favourite veggies and post the results! (Definitely pickle some fresh ginger slices though, they are divine and add flavour to the other pickles). I added a little sesame oil for flavour, and then vinegar to fill the jar (though I was worried they would get too sour so only filled halfway and laid the jar on its side, turning it whenever I was in the fridge over the course of 24-36 hours. You could experiment with filling it the whole way but diluting the vinegar with water.

My pickles are kind of bastardized pickles Chinese style. They are more marinated in vinegar than pickled (no chemical change) but I prefer it that way because the vegetables keep their original fresh and crisp flavour. That also means, though, that you can't store them in the jar for too long or they get soggy. (Though that is never a problem for this pickle-maniac!)

The final dish.

After dinner I opened the bottle of Viognier 2007 from Fielding Estate Winery that we picked up in Beamsville Bench, Niagara, which won Gold at the All Canadian Wine Championships. I normally like drier whites, but this one was so unique and flavourful I couldn't resist it. In addition to Fielding's description (click the link above), I would add that this wine has a distinctly pineapply tropical flavour with a strong honey note, though there is a musky edge (not sure if I would call it spicy, more like the bitter flavour of a nice fruit rind, with a heady aroma reminiscent of papaya or durian) to lift the sweetness into a greater complexity. It was soooo tasty I ended up drinking the whole bottle while watching An Arctic Tale. Don't do that, I don't recommend it. Get a friend so you don't drink the whole bottle. That honeyness doesn't sit well in your head the next day.

My new best friend, Colleen, who was handling my tasting (what do you call a wine expert working in a winery? not a sommelier?), seemed to be able to read my tastebuds like a tongue psychic. According to Colleen, Fielding specializes in aromatic whites. Everything she picked out for me ended up being my new favourite. I came home with the 2007 Viognier and the 2007 Sauvignon Blanc (a beautifully balanced wine half fermented in stainless steel, half fermented in oak). As I was paying for the wine, she apologized for not being able to chat more with me since they were busy catering a wine party. I promised I'd be back.

This is exactly the kind of treatment that makes me want to return to a winery. I'll never understand why anyone working in any customer service field thinks that snobbery and elitism ups their reputation (that's you, prick at Organized Crime with mediocre wine!). Fielding was recommended to me by a lady from Hidden Bench just up the lane (a class act in its own right with above average though not mindblowing wines -- I will blog about them as soon as I open a bottle!). The lady at Hidden Bench said Fielding was her favourite, and now Fielding is my favourite too -- they just had such a wide selection of really excellent and unique wines, you couldn't possibly get sick of going back for more.

As an added bonus, Fielding and Hidden Bench are in the most beautifully scenic hidden horseshoe. If you can only make one stop, this horseshoe could keep you busy for an afternoon if you take your time. This is off the QEW highway. Find the full Niagara Wine Route map here.

Notice that North and South Service roads run along the highway - a safe and scenic route for cyclists, which solves that driving + wine tasting problem.

More about my wine tour soon!

Mostly on the bicycle and cafe cute times

2009-07-22T18:58:00.003-04:00

To get some exercise, see some sites, get me educated and smell some flowers, I signed up for a Fat Tire Bike Tour to Potsdam. The Nazi Third Reich tour looked a little menacing and Nazi architecture seemed to be very severe in an already very orderly Germany and therefore unappealing to me at the time. Every city has its landmark which is always a over hyped and overrated. I wanted to avoid the Berlin Wall like the plague, so the Berlin Wall tour was out. I also don't like glazing over stuff in a general fashion, so the All-In-One city bike tour was also out. The Potsdam bike tour was the longest and most luxurious looking. It also didn't have the hazards of tram tracks and pedestrians. I hate city bike riding. GREAT! That took care of that.

On hindsight, I probably should have done all those tours because the guides are endlessly entertaining and endearing. The above is a picture of the first thing our guide, Charles, drew for us once we arrived in Potsdam. He said that the all the Prussian rulers had very boring names. They were named either Friedrich, Wilhem or Friedrich Wilhem. You can remember them by their hairdos, hats or facial hair. It was actually the second Friedrich Wilhem that was called Friedrich Wilhem the First, so our guide told us that the real first Friedrich Wilhem was really Friedrich Wilhem to the power of zero.

To get to Potsdam, we had to haul the bicycles up the escalator to the train station at Alexanderplatz. You have to push the first wheel onto the escalator and squeeze the brakes. DO NOT LET GO OF THE BRAKES WHEN YOU ARE ON THE ESCALATOR, OTHERWISE BAD THINGS WILL HAPPEN.

A newly made friend of a friend, Suzann (friend of Sofia), offered to let me stay at her place in between Prenzlauer Berg and Pankow because her roommate was leaving for the weekend. It worked out spectacularly, because this was also the day I was scheduled to move into an 8 person dorm (barf) in the hostel. She also insisted that I have a proper night out in Berlin. This means that we spent the entire night and early morning not sleeping. The middle stamp was at an old East Berlin style club that played appropriately themed 70's style funk. All the furnishings were straight out of the 70's and the warm yellow glow from the round lighting fixtures and smokey room put me into a daze. There were silent movies playing on the walls. It was all very strange. Anyway, I went on this bike tour on a three hour nap. I scrambled to get to Alexanderplatz.

As we were waiting on the platform for the train, a guy from Sao Paolo immediately took off down the escalator, in search of some snacks to eat. I wanted to do the same because I hadn't had any coffee. No coffee + no sleep + bicycle + me = very dangerous. The Frenchman called after me "CAN YOU GET ONE FOR ME TOO!" I raced down and raced back up because the line was too long. Definitely NOT pleased. Even grouchier than before. As we waited 2 minutes for the train to pull in, the French dude goes "You could've gotten me a coffee by now." RAGGGGGWWWHHH. STOP IT.

The amazing thing is, there was a vending machine on the train, a train similar to the Metro North or Long Island Rail Road and it cost 1 euro, and was better than any American dishwater diner coffee. Fantastic! We sipped coffee much to my relief and the Parisian's disgust, and both our caffeine headaches went away. I was riding the bicycle and taking pictures and talking to people and I thought hey, this is great, my bike riding skillz are pretty good, even though it was affecting the quality of my photographs. Then I tried to run up on the sidewalk and promptly fell off the bike and was quite confused.

At the beer garden we stopped at for lunch, my scrapes began to bleed and Charles the Guide handed me a bunch of alcohol swabs and band aids as we talked about living in DC (he'd lived there for 7 years). I also made friends with Adam, the other lone young traveler, an Australian software engineer from Brisbane, who managed to get a month off work to go traveling and was leaving the next day for Vienna, then Paris, then Monaco, then I don't remember. I had 2 bratwursts and fries and apfel shorle. He had the same and a liter of beer. He finished ALL of it. He also fell off his bike at the end of the tour.

We stopped by Sanssoucci (Without Worry), summer palace of great Prussian ruler Friedrich the Great. He said that when he died, he wanted to be buried there because it was so beautiful, it was the only place where you could be sans soucci. Eventually, 60 years after his death, his body was exhumed and brought up to where it lies now. He hated his wife, so he was buried next to his dogs. People leave potatoes on his grave because he was responsible for introducing potatoes as a staple crop in Germany.

Later, at Cecilienhof, where the Potsdam Conference was held, I cut my my hand on the bicycle lock and Charles the Guide said that he had approximately enough band-aids to hang out with me for another two hours. SIGH! So also at the Cecilienhof, the French guy got some ice cream that was mediocre. Or mediocre by French standards. But I guess mediocre nevertheless. So after we returned the bicycles, I really needed a real coffee, so I asked if Adam the Traveling Australian if he wanted to chill out at Kauf Dich Glücklich (Shop Yourself Happy), which is now a cafe that sells cheap homemade ice cream (0.70 euros) and cheap but good espresso drinks (1.50 euros). Bonus points playing Ellen Allien and Apparat!

It's verrry cute. I had 2 scoops of ice cream, guava and chocolate, had way too much coffee and talked about spontaneous travel and being very accident prone.

And when he realised that he was talking to an official glutton, asked where he could go for a fun festive dinner with some people he'd met at his hostel, Circus, the one that I wanted to stay in but were fully booked. I sent him in the direction of White Trash Fast Food. I don't have pictures of that, but it's a bit of a bizarre place. It used to be a Chinese restaurant, now taken over by hipsters and they left all the tacky Chinese decorations in place and added their own bizarre collection of decorations. They're known for their rude menu and burgers. They also were playing some REALLY BIZARRE Nazi porn on the TVs when I was there. It's something so bizarre I'm not sure how to express how bizarre it was in words. Most bizarre.

Anyway, extremely fun times! And would only be made more fun if I knew how to work a turntable so we could check out some German techno at the record shops, but alas I could not! And I also had to hurry back to make Suzann some pork chop for dinner.

A Rosy Summer in Niagara

2009-07-22T18:00:00.000-04:00

Mousse was feeling lonely on the blog and B took his camera to New Brunswick so I rummaged around in his photo folder and found this to post.

This is dinner on our balcony. It has been such a gorgeous place to dine this summer and I feel so lucky to have found this apartment. The big tree right in front of the balcony has a squirrel that is always diligently padding its nest with fresh soft leaves from the neighbouring tree, scurrying back and forth in its work as you eat. Adorable.

The dinner featured in the picture is a celebratory lobster dinner for B on the day he (finally!) got his driver's license (Now it's my turn... we are such a pair of procrastinators). Anthony Bourdain's favourite chef question is: "What would be your last meal before the electric chair?" It is true love when you know little details like this about your sweetheart without needing to ask. I am 100% sure B would say a lobster dinner with garlic melted butter and a bottle of wine. The wine above is a local Niagara 2007 Cabernet Rosé from Cave Spring Cellars - a surprise find, refreshing and perfect for summer.

Rosés are a new discovery for me. I realized this year that they don't have to be sugary sweet concoctions, but can be crisp and refreshing and deeee-lightful! Another good choice, though not local, is the Argentinian Fuzion Syrah Rosé, though it tends to fly off the shelves because it is so cheap - $7.45!!! (Have you hopped on the Fuzion bandwagon yet?)

I used to only drink red wine but the best wines in Niagara are, in order: ice wine, then white, then rosé then red and so I have taken the opportunity this year to expand my horizons, and to great benefit! My current favourite local wine is Strewn winery's Barrel-Aged Chardonnay (2007). Its oak-y flavour is divine.

P.S. All the wines above can be found at the LCBO (Ontario). Not sure about elsewhere.

Me at Organized Crime vineyard in Beamsville Bench, Niagara Peninsula. (The wine here was so-so and a little overpriced for the region, and the wine-taster guy was über-snobby towards young people (even though we had a friend with us who really knew her stuff) and reeeeaally anal about making sure to collect every 50 cents for each wine tasted. But the history of how they got their name is pretty entertaining.)

I will be visiting more wineries while my Mom is in town. Will let you know if I stumble on anything good!

Love,
Pamplemousse

The Original Grumpy in Berlin

2009-07-22T08:44:00.000-04:00

It turns out that Peiz and I had dinner at Hasir too! In Kreuzberg, the Turkish neighborhood in Berlin. It was raining and she was looking for the restaurant where she ate at the last time. When in doubt, eavesdrop. While she was trying to locate the eatery and pointed to something across the street, a local showing some friends around said "there is good, but if you want really really good Kabob, you have to....." they dropped out of hearing range for a little bit, but I caught up with them "HERE!" OK! We were also going to eat there. Success!

Nowhere near as grumpy as he was in Iceland, Anthony Bourdain's Berlin episode was very entertaining. mmm Rogacki.

Rogacki, I love you

2009-07-21T18:21:00.000-04:00

This is on such a backlog. This happened on June 5th, 2009

Peiz had just left Berlin, and I awoke bleary eyed and all alone. Hmmm a whole day free with nothing planned. After chowing down on some squirrel muesli, bio yogurt (I'm not sure what that means exactly), blueberries and goats cream cheese slathered carrots, what else to think about but...lunch. My dad called me to say he just remembered that I was in Berlin and when he was watching Anthony Bourdain, there was a deli/meat market/food extravaganza with every cut of meat and every slab of cheese you could imagine!!!!!!! You could even eat there too and there was so much food, it was OBSCENE!

PERFECT! A day of culture (museums) and obscene gluttony.

The first task was trying to locate it. My dad couldn't remember what the place was called but could describe it in great vivid detail, which made it extra frustrating because typing "ENORMOUS place in Berlin with obscene amounts of anything you want and so much food you don't know what to do with it." into Google doesn't really help. Actually no. I can't remember exactly how it was described, but I spent a good amount of time scouring the interweb for it, using roughly those keywords.

I sent him the website. and he texted back "Jawohl!! Das ist das Geshaft" which means "Yes!! This is the shop."

Right, mission to locate food! It was all the way west in Chalottenburg, a residential neighborhood.

You get off the U-Bahn at Bismarckstrasse. Okay, so it's not way way west, but from where I was staying, it was a little bit wester than usual.

This is the outside. You can get fresh German eggs. HERE.

you can also get some FRESH FISH AND SHARK. RAWR!

The standard collection of cheeses....

I love to eat....GERMAN MEATS!!!!!!!!!

Rogacki is set up with a market around the inside perimeter and with stalls in the middle with stand around tables for you to eat quickly at. I must've walked around the place maybe 4 or 5 times before deciding what I wanted. I was tempted to get a selection of meats, but with a giant blue fish on their awning, how could I pass some of it up?

This is a peculiar fish. I haven't decided if it's saying "I have a secret" or "I house things good and fresh" or "I am very wary and suspicious of you" or "Stop eating my friends" or "You will spend more time here than necessary" or "Geez, another tourist?" or if it is just apathetic.

Actually, there weren't that many tourists. They were all tough looking German speaking folk. So I motioned to the server at what most people were eating: breaded fried fish and potato salad.

Es ist gut. yum.

Back to Berlin

2009-07-21T15:46:00.001-04:00

Oops...vacation distraction. Back to vacation food. My first couple of days in Berlin were spent in a daze, following a seasoned German speaking Peiz around. The only things I knew were "Hauptbanhof", change at Alexanderplatz for all the trains and take the Train to Pankow (also a song) to get back to the hostel. And stop by the biomarkt to get organic produce.

I can't believe I was so ill prepared!!!!!! Peiz dragged me around the city to forage for food. I was so starving when we got to this place near Rosa Luxembourg. She said that it was a pay as you want restaurant and the last time she was there, she felt so guilty, she gave them 20 euros. I think this place is called Weinerei, according to Peiz's facebook description, in between Mitte and Prenzlauer Berg neighborhoods. From what I could gather, Prenzlauer Berg is kinda like the Park Slope of New York. Lots of young people and 30-somethings with their babies, good eats, good places to party, organic supermarkets.

(photo snagged off Peiz's facebook)

The old East Berlin has turned into a little bit of a hipster paradise and the buildings are low lying, old, solid and retains a lot of its cozy charm. Weinerei was extraordinarily charming – they make everything there themselves. There were two soups as well as some sandwiches, pastries and cakes to choose from. They were out of one soup and we had the curry soup with apples and mmm other delicious things.

I had two bowls of it with some bread. I think it cost 3 euros and you could have as much as you wanted. Peiz was a little disappointed, but I wasn't! It was a gooood curry soup. If I actually put a little more effort into planning the Berlin leg of the trip, I would've probably wanted to drop by a squat and sample their food and entertainment. Berlin seems to have all these hidden secret places to eat at and to discover, like Spreepark, an old abandoned amusement park in the old East Berlin. Dinosaurs! Weird moustache go carts! Creepy swans! Forgive his overly dramatic storm cloud effects.

Also, there was a secret restaurant, The Shy Chef, where it was like being invited to someone's home. They would email you directions to get to the location, which would be somewhere obscure and you'd be questioning if you were heading in the right direction. It's a 50 euro cash donation to eat there and it's a 5 course meal. According to the website, it is a super secret club. A super secret food club is something I'd give a couple of limbs to be a part of.

Cookies Cream was another place that I would've liked to go to. According to New York Times, it's behind the Westin, down a dark alley and you have to hop over a bunch of garbage bags to get there.

Picnic and picnic hamper envy

2009-07-20T12:53:00.001-04:00

There wasn't anyone who seemed like I could persuade to spare a couple of plastic cups, so these were our wine vessels, that curiously resembled Christine and I in real life (height-wise). We went to the New York Philharmonic outdoors in Central Park and packed a last minute picnic. I toted along my last slab of cheese and have been cheese free for 3 days and am getting a little ANTSY.

mmmm cheese.

Sorry! Excuse the inappropriate knife usage!

Delicious cheese, made even more deliciouser with local cherries. This was an Italian cow's milk Mountain Gorgonzola and is aged between 6-12 months. According to the Murray's Cheese shop desciption, it is PUNCHY and SPICY. YEAH! It is lovely. Christine gave me a cheese voucher for my birthday and wrote "Extravagant cheese for recession times". I'll have to dig out and put towards next week's cheese fund. Just thinking about cheese makes me want to run down to Grand Central and load up. ugh. Restraint!

I made friends with some of my neighbors sitting around me. One of them was a British doctor reading a book of translated Chinese poems and had spent a year working in KK Hospital in the 1970s, another was a Jamaican who seemed to know a lot about Singapore. We all shared the same birth city: London

The spoils: I made some German-esque style potato salad (cold) with garlic scapes, a mustard vinaigrette (whole mustrad seeds), basil olive oil and white wine vinegar. I also made some cucumber yogurt dip with plain yogurt, lemon juice, smashed up garlic, cucumbers, salt and pepper. Christine supplied the chips, wine and grape leaves. Delicious times for cultured events!

Movies in the park sometimes call for pizza, but a symphony orchestra calls for a semi extravagant picnic. Thank goodness I didn't have any food envy, but I may have had a case of picnic hamper envy. I looked some up on the interweb when I got home.

OBSERVE:

Baguette consideration = very good.

Plate/Cutlery and food separation = TREASURE CHEST OF FOOD = most excellent

Seems to have what appears to be a cooler compartment for food. GREAT! I don't need breakable glasses coming along on my picnic, so those can be cheese compartments. Very nice!

And then I saw this portrait of ridicule:

Come on get real! There is no way all of that is squeezing into that hamper! Who eats that much processed food on a picnic anyway? hmm ok scratch that. But I shelved my picnic hamper plans quite quickly after realizing that my plain old expandable cooler was just fine.

Someone's looking extremely happy for a Grumpy (right)!

Fette Sau

2009-07-20T10:59:00.001-04:00

Since my mediocre experience at Dinosaur Barbecue (festive atmosphere, meh food, unacceptable wait), I've stayed away from barbecue because....well, I like barbecue steak over a grill better. Fette Sau in Williamsburg is a dingy looking alley with a neon pink sign beckoning you into a garage. I've always been intrigued, but when I found they served barbecue, I said never mind. Time to suck it up and suck on some ribs when my friend Lauren had her birthday party there.

I wandered to the bar and ordered a cherry soda before the meat massacre and beer guzzling. (Actually I cannot guzzle too much beer. It's much more fun for others than it is for me.) And guess what! Real sugar, no high fructose corn syrup! Wow! Amazing! It doesn't take much to win me over little by little. Also, I learned that the meat was from small local farms and this restaurant buys the entire animal, so you know exactly where it comes from and more specifically, the animal you're eating. I didn't inquire about my ingested pig, but I'm sure you could. And a happy pig is a TASTY PIG. I was totally sold.

I'm sorry I ate all the meat that was put in front of me in such a hurry, that all I managed to take pictures of in my idle time was beer. Incidentally, you can order beer by the jar, half gallon or gallon. You order your meat by the pound. I loved the pulled pork, brisket and pork belly.

Sometimes when you eat a great meal, you are stuffed to the gills and feel a little sick. Other times, you know when you should stop, but have a hard time stopping. Your fingers say YES MORE and your stomach says YESSSSSS MORRRREEEE and your mouth is the happy middleman that gladly samples the goods but your brain has to put the brakes on it. Some people don't have any common sense and don't know when to stop.....sadly, that night, I did.

Update on Beet Bonanza

2009-07-18T17:04:00.001-04:00

Pamplemousse posted this ingenious recipe for beets that I had to try. I've stayed away from beets because I couldn't stomach their grassy flavour, but beet chips is a different story!

A couple of things to add to this recipe:
- oven temperature is 425 degrees
- roast for 20 minutes if you are careful and slice the beets thin and consistent. roast for 30 minutes if you are clumsy like me.

how did this one slip away?

2009-07-18T16:33:00.002-04:00

We eat 3 meals a day and some snacks, so you'll forgive me when I pause my selections from my gluttonous vacation for meals I have overlooked! I must've slipped into a food coma after this, because it completely slipped my mind afterwards.

This was when lovely Sofia took me out for a post birthday brunch late April at the Clinton Street Baking Company. Thisssss gastronomical phenomenon is eggs over easy over truffled potatoes, oyster mushrooms, ramps, potatoes and duck bacon (yes bacon made of duck) and a more than generous helping of truffle oil.

She looked at me intently when I scanned the menu "You knowwwwww you want it."

The other sweet Jesus

2009-07-17T13:08:00.003-04:00

Speaking of sweet Jesuses, I went to Marlow and Sons with my favourite wayward Muslim. I'm not sure what I had for dinner, but I definitely knew what we had to start. They're supposed to be famous for their brick chicken, but I don't remember having that and the only thing that could make me give up a house speciality is a special fish of the day or lamb chop, so that's probably what I had. The bartender made me a tarragon mojito and we ordered a CHEESE PLATE while inquiring about salami.

She rattled off a couple of names and then our ears prickled when she said 'The Baby Jesus'.

"WE'LL HAVE SOME OF THAT"

There is something deliciously sacrilegious about eating a salami called The Baby Jesus with a wayward Muslim, as a moderately well behaved jack russell terrier about half a foot away from us looks longingly at our meat plate before lunging at his owner's salad, and finally washing down our entire meaty meal with an espresso...with milk.

ONWARD.

2009-07-17T12:58:00.002-04:00

Jesus ice cream. Does it mean ice cream by Jesus? or Jesus! ice cream! I'm not sure. But I was driven in a complete daze (I might as well have been kidnapped) from the Munich Hauptbanhof (central station) to lunch at Maria

where I ate Bavarian wurst and Peiz made faces at me as we put on and took off sweaters and scarves about 5 times in half an hour. Her cousin pointed out that this cafe was called Maria, Jessas was on the left and Joseph (a restaurant bistro) was to the right, and further right was a bar called Amen, which would quite fittingly put an end to the day. It is interesting that they would start off the day with ice cream instead of a proper meal. I LIKE this way of thinking.

The ice creams and sorbets came in a wafer cup and in true German efficiency, eliminates the need to stock cups and wafer cones. It also minimizes waste! I had the basil lime sorbet, and sweet Jesus, it was good.

DC, could I love you?

2009-07-14T22:49:00.001-04:00

Alright, vacation pause! I'm interrupting my own vacation sequence as well. I had to be in DC shortly after I got back from my trip. I didn't even have time to catch my breath. I was pretty clueless and all I knew was that I needed to be somewhere downtown and not screw up and end up in murder zipcode of America. I'm usually prepared for things like this. After getting lost for 4 hours in French Canadian speaking (not even my superb Franglais could help me) Canadian wilderness at midnight has made me an excellent map reader and trip planner.

Enter Laura
"Just follow my map and you cannot go wrong":

My friend Laura (our families have been friends since forever) was amazing! She was super busy with work but let me stay with her on such short notice and even printed out and marked up maps of the area especially for food, even marked out the bus route with APPROXIMATE STOPS. and threw in a bus timetable as well. I promised to do the same for Pamplemousse a year ago, and she's come and gone and it's still a work in progress :( oh the shame. (but in my defense, I went overboard and it was 70 pages long...yes...all 70 pages about where to eat in New York.)

The eating map Laura made was indispensable. I would've found everything by wandering around, but she took the brains out of even that, marking out food joints and rating them. I didn't waste my time with "mediocre cupcakes" and caught my breath at the very empty Freer-Sackler museum.

Then there was Tryst.

Animal crackers with my coffee?! How adorable is that! I spent too much time at Tryst, snuggling into well snuggled couches with my laptop and exceeding my self imposed caffeine restriction. How....hipster of me. Don't judge!

Anyway, Tryst was right next to Madam's Organ (the neighborhood was called Adams Morgan)

Her map really made my week and when I go back to DC, I'm definitely checking out the Cowgirl Creamery...mmmmm jamon iberico.....mmmm

Random Gourmet: Balsamic Beet Bonanza

2009-07-14T18:54:00.000-04:00

Oops! I was going to try to slip this in between Mousse's Icelandic and German food adventures, but I guess I am one post too late. Oh well. Enjoy the asymmetry!

I have decided to make "Random Gourmet" a recurring series since it is my favourite way to cook. The following is a bit of a cheat -- two dishes from two different nights put together under the same theme, but they went together like an environmentalist's perfect date, so I let it be.

See the beautiful rings? This is what inspired me to invent beet chips. Also, both my Dad and my boyfriend are not too keen on whole beets. I realized this was a great way to disguise beets and tone down their full flavour to a subtly sweet crisp. The nutty, slightly bitter flavour of the quinoa is paired with beet's favourite friend: a caramelized balsamic vinagrette.

This dish brilliantly uses ALL parts of the beet and REuses the balsamic!

Balsamic Beet Bonanza: Beet chips, beet greens and quinoa
serves 2

Ingredients:
- 1 fresh bunch of beets from the market, LEAVES INTACT. (I picked up a golden variety this week but purple ones are always beautiful)
- 2 cups quinoa, cooked in rice cooker (or boiled in a pot if you are not so fortunate as to own a rice cooker, the most useful kitchen gadget ever).
- balsamic vinegar
- olive oil
- garlic
- salt and pepper, some marjoram (optional)

Directions:
1. Preheat oven to 425 C. Also, boil the quinoa.
2. Remove beet greens, wash if dirty and set aside.
3. Scrub beets and slice in thin discs.
4. Prepare beet marinade: mix balsamic, oil, marjoram, salt and pepper into a vinagrette.
5. Coat beets in marinade by tossing in a mixing bowl.
6. Lay beet chips out in single layer on a baking sheet and set into oven. Leave them until crisp (but not burnt; slightly burnt edges means perfect). This may take some monitoring. (Sorry, I didn't keep track).
7. The unused marinade will be USED for the beet greens. Maximize the flavour by enclosing it in a makeshift tinfoil envelope, sealing it up, and setting it on the baking tray with the beets (this will caramelize the sugars).
8. When beet chips are 10 minutes to done (1/2 or 2/3 way through cooking time), smash up several garlic cloves with the side of your knife (I use my trusty cleaver for everything).
9. Toss them into a pan (preferably a wok) with hot oil.
10. Add beet greens and salt.
11. Toss until oil is absorbed and leaves turn deep green.
12. Add a 1/2 cup of water/broth, toss, then cover and turn off heat. The leaves will steam tender without any supervision.
13. Dish out the quinoa (1 cup/person) and beet chips alongside.
14. After 5 minutes or so while you are doing this, the beet greens should be cooked. Lay them over the quinoa and then drizzle the envelope of caramelized balsamic over everything (heavier on the quinoa side).

Serve and dig in. :)

P.S. I will be replacing my broken camera at the end of this month, after which you will see more posts from me and REAL pictures!

Heidey Ho!

2009-07-14T17:11:00.002-04:00

(This is from my major vacation on 2009, when I went to Munich, Berlin, Heidelberg, London, Cornwall and Iceland. I was so enthralled with Iceland I had to post exhaustively about it. But now, lets start at the very beginning.....)

Munich was a little bit of a whirlwind touch and go. I arrived in a daze on a Sunday when all the shops were closed, was a little more lucid on Monday and departed on a fast moving train to Berlin on Tuesday morning at 7am.

I was exposed to germy airplane interiors, greeted by Germans in lab coats and face masks at the airport gate, inquiring if any of us had developed mysterious flu like symptoms on the plane. So how better to fortify my body with some YAH! German food at the bier garten!

PAUSE:
I feel like I have to explain the Heidey Ho title. It's a word that Peiz and I concocted (or borrowed from Ned Flanders and tweaked for our purposes) to describe beer drinking, jolly dancing and general German merrimaking, lederhosen optional but preferred. So the below constitutes a Heidey Ho, bonus points for the guy walking around with the giant wooden spoon to collect tips.

Anyway, ONWARD.

Plates are heavy, portions are hearty and you drop your beer mug on the table with a resounding thump. (Actually, that's actually apfel shorle, or fizzy apple juice.....heh heh. training beer, if you will!) A slab of pork! A lump of mystery carbs! (knudle?) and a heaping on sauerkraut and a generous spill of gravy. French Fries! A salad as big as your head! (I didn't take a picture of the salad, since it's quite un-German to be eating raw green veggies).

I snagged these off of Peiz's facebook.

Did I mention how delicious this was? It was phenomenal. Wooden benches on gravel, festive harmless drunks, the smell of German food wafting from the buffet a mix of french fries, wurst and all combinations of roasted and stewed pork as you sit under a tall lamp and laugh heartily with old and new friends in the cool evening breeze. Now sample a piece of juicy tender pork and tell me who wouldn't have died and gone to heaven.

On the walk back, after my first day in Munich, I saw this piece of amazing awesomeness:

Goodbye Reykjavik, I hope you'll still be affordable in a couple of years

2009-07-14T16:40:00.002-04:00

Thank YOU, Icelandair for letting me stop over for 4 1/2 days en route back to NY. Those were the best 4 1/2 days of the year. I have mixed feelings about Icelandair itself. You do not have to pay for checked baggage (you hear that, lame-o American air carriers?), there are USB ports on every seat so you arrive wherever you are with a charged phone, there are games and on demand television, the Icelandic duty free shopping is entertaining to browse through, BUT you have to pay for meals? Get real Nordic folk! Are you a budget airline or what? Make up your mind! You stand no chance against budget carrier Air Berlin, my new favourite airline (but distant 2nd to Singapore Airlines). The girl who sat next to me smiled and charmed her way into 2 bananas, an apple and an overflowing handful of snacks by brushing off the Nordic cold shoulder (she was also probably maybe 14).

Thats Candice looking longingly at the baked goods at Sandholt from the outside after we'd just left, wishing she had 4 stomachs. That is also me on the airplane wishing that I had bought my plane meal from them before leaving. Should you fly with Icelandair please, please buy some Bonus bread and slap some hammy cream cheese between it and bring it with you on the plane. My Sandholt braid was not enough to sustain me and I had to succumb to Roast Beef Melt ala Air Plane. SAD TIMES!!!! I sorta made up for it by swiping 6 free bottles of glacial water at the departure gate.

So, goodbye Iceland, I wish I had eaten more food to post about, but onto BAVARIAN HEIDY HO food from Munich next!

Grumpy in Iceland

2009-07-14T08:47:00.001-04:00

Me and my grumpy friend Christine (Grumpy) refer to Anthony Bourdain as the Original Grumpy. He's gotten noticeably much LESS grumpy in newer seasons, much to my surprise and Grumpy's disgust. I was debating whether to put these on the blog because I've been raving about Iceland and I think it is a lovely country and Anthony Bourdain was being so....well, grumpy about it.

I'm not sure if I'd be raving quite so enthusiastically if there had only been 4 hours of daylight when I visited, and if I was made to eat fermented shark, sheep testicles and an assortment of sheep organs, but surely he must have had a more favourable response to the MEAT SOUP?! But see for yourself, don't let him get you down or discourage you from visiting!

p.s. the vile green vial that I mentioned that was a shark chaser? It's called Brennivin, is a schnapps (not a vodka), is also known as "Black Death" and it's featured many times in this episode.

My love affair, now turned long distance relationship with Skyr

2009-07-13T15:54:00.001-04:00

Everyone knows that long distance relationships are hard. You don't get to see each other very often and it gets expensive. NO DIFFERENT IS MY NEWLY MINTED RELATIONSHIP WITH SKYR. This is us at the airport.

Recap: Skyr is Icelandic yogurt made out of cows milk that is virtually fat free (0.2%), but contains all the flavor of a full fat yogurt and tastes heavenly and is thick and light.

I used to consume a bunch of Fage, a Greek yogurt that was creamy smooth and THICK. Then I used to eat a lot of Hawthorne Valley's delicious runny yogurt. Then I settled for whatever was convenient. Now I haven't had my usual breakfast of yogurt, fruit and granola since I left Iceland.

I tried to have it everyday that I was there. Then after I had some at the Icelandic Fish and Chips place, I was obsessed. It was the best skyr ever. And it is so versatile! Make dips with it, use it instead of sour cream, have it for breakfast with granola, or dessert with berries. Put it on your face and use it as a collagen mask! (actually no, don't do that, unless you want me to lick your face). I've been raving about skyr since I first tried skyr and when I was at the airport, I wanted nothing more than to take copious amounts of it in freezer and dry ice bags on the plane with me. Alas, blue lagoon moisturizer was weighing me down. Thank goodness I didn't attempt this, because when I got to New York, sniffer dogs were sniffing out stuff and came around to check me out, with no incident. I'm sure US Customs would be none too pleased if they uncovered barrels of yogurt culture.

Anyway, as I was grumbling as I was grocery shopping back in the land of high fructose corn syrup and modified starch and emulsified soy, my friend Christine paused a little too long at the yogurt section. A lot of stuff was already wiped out and I had no eyes for any other type of yogurt and accepted my calcified future with a former flame, Ronnybrook Chocolate Milk (which is still pretty spectacular if you ask me). I contemplated a skyr imitation, Siggi's. And then slowly, slowly, Christine pulled from the shelf a serving sized portion of SKYR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMG SKYR. SKYR IN AMERICA*. REAL SKYR. REAL SKYR HERE!!!!!!!!!!! They were sold out of the plain type but they had the fruit flavoured ones. Remember what I said about eating Skyr everyday and being a happy girl? This is my Icelandic dream come true.

*I found Skyr in WholeFoods. I quite abhor WholeFoods, but you have to eat sometimes, so what can you do. But you can see if they sell Skyr at your current location if you visit skyr.is