Backseat Gourmet

Cottage Cheese

2009-11-08T20:58:00.002-07:00

I have a desire to make my own cottage cheese one of these days, just like my Baba used to. That won't be happening until Smilosaurus learns to keep it on the high chair tray, at least, instead of decorating the dog. The worst part is that we usually rely on the dogs to clean up after she eats. What am I supposed to do when this happens?

Taste Adventure - Coconut Jam and Pandan

2009-10-31T21:59:00.001-06:00

Every book in our house is read a minimum of 4 times an hour. Each day it might be a different rotation of books, if I am fortunate enough to sneak in a repertoire, but each book will be read ad infinitum. Generally this causes intense boredom on the part of us parents, sometimes to the point of irritation. There is one book, however, that doesn't drive me completely insane to read: Munch by Emma McCann.

In this story of a toast and jam loving monster named Munch fighting off an enormous monster with an enormous appetite the strangest jams are highlighted as favourites of Munch: coconut, broccoli, and banana jam. While I had no interest in broccoli or banana jam, I was always intensely curious about the thought of coconut jam. So my Monster and I googled it one day only to discover what apparently most of South East Asia has already known. Coconut jam, more generally known as Kaya is a little bit of tropical heaven in a jar.

This morning I managed a quick escape from our self-imposed quarantine (still not sure if the flu is really here or not) for a trip to the Loriz Bakery, a Phillipino bakery and convenience store not to far from our house to pick up pandan. Also known by the horribly bad name of screw pine leaves, pandan is common on Thai, Malaysian, and Phillipino cuisine. Honestly, to me it smelled like a type of grass. Tasted bland too. But combined with coconut it tasted And smelled like our house was transported into somewhere far more tropical than Calgary for an hour. Remind me to get Thai of dinner tomorrow.

I blitzed my screw pine leaves with a bit of water and strained the mess. Then I set to carmelizing sugar, beating eggs, and cooking it all together with some thick coconut milk. It turns out coconut jam is more like a custard. But damn, it is good.

Sadly, The Monster refused to try it and Smilosaurus did not like it at all. I am blaming it all on the sickness and not on the odd colour that this ends up. Putting green goop on your toast is not appetizing to the eyes, but to the nose and tongue it was fantastic! Seriously, it was so good. And one of the best things is that I have A LOT more pandan leaves in the freezer and you can always get coconut milk. Even though the recipe only makes about 3 jars of jam you can make it at any time of the year.

In my research I discovered recipes with or without the pandan I decided to go for the pandan to make it a bit more authentic. A lot of the recipes had up to 10 eggs too. It seemed like it would be a bit too eggy so I found another recipe and adapted it because my can of coconut milk was bigger than the one in the original. It worked for me, it definitely worked for me.

Coconut Jam

Adapted from Almost Bourdain

(makes 3 250 ml jars)

5 pandan leaves

250 grams sugar

1 can coconut milk (not light) or cream

5 eggs, beaten well

1. Blitz the pandan leaves with 1/4 cup of water. Push the liquid through a sieve and measure 50 ml.

2. Melt sugar and pandan juice in a heavy bottomed pan on medium heat until carmelized. it will be green, so don't let it go much more than a couple of minutes once the sugar is melted.

3. Remove from heat, stir in the coconut milk and eggs.

4. Return to heat and cook, stirring frequently, until mixture is thickened and cooked, approximately 20-25 minutes.

5. Place in sterilized jars and seal. Alternatively, let cool and serve that day. (I did not process my jars, but they did seal.)

Make sure to visit Under the High Chair for her virtual jam swap, there are going to be some fantastic submissions!

The Most Fantastic Raisin Bread Ever

2009-10-29T14:14:00.000-06:00

The little one is sick. It garnered a trip to the ER last night, on what one nurse described as the craziest night she's ever had at the Children's Hospital. But with some steroids and lots of rest she and I are both feeling better.

Today, however, was a day for snuggles and gratitude. So I sifted through some photos and pulled together this little photo essay. We spent a chilly Saturday in the kitchen and with some old magazines. Thanks to Julie and this interview I had a strong desire for raisin bread. A very strong desire.

Thank-you Gourmet for the most fantastic raisin bread ever. Seriously, all raisin bread should include cardamom, whether it is Finnish or not. Anyone know what makes it Finnish? It just seemed like a challah with raisins and cardamom. And who cares? Just get in the kitchen, get messy, and bake some.

Uncles are Evil

2009-10-25T21:37:00.001-06:00

I'm not sure that the guy who invented caramel apples had kids. I bet he was an uncle, not a dad. He took evil pleasure in feeding his nieces and nephews sugar on a stick - under the guise of a healthy apple - then sending them home to Mommy and Daddy all jacked up. Mr. Dan Walker, a sales rep from Kraft is the man credited with introducing the caramel apple to the mass market. Someone out there do a geneology search on him and see if he had kids, will ya?

Personally, my first caramel apple was only enjoyed recently because my mom refused to let us have them as kids. At least this is what I remember, she may argue differently. It may have been the profusion of sweetness or the gooey mess, but I can tell you that I felt deprived. I'm over it now, only because I now know how to make my own caramel apples.

There are two ways to go about it. You can use the brand name kits or buy a bag of premade caramels and melt them. Or you can make the caramel yourself. Really, it isn't hard, only 4 ingredients, plus the apples. You do need a candy thermometer, but a basic one can be picked up at the grocery store. Your homemade caramel will also have a much richer flavour and a darker colour.

The alternative to making caramel apples is to make a caramel dipping sauce for apples, brownies, bananas, ice cream, and pretty much anything else that is only better with melted sugar on it. So, that means pretty much everything. Making a caramel sauce is even easier, taking only three ingredients and not requiring anything but a good pot.

While I generally welcome the girls, ages 1 and 3, into the kitchen regardless of what I'm cooking, this was a task I saved for naptime. Caramel is liquid sugar. It is ridiculously hot and can burn. And my youngest has an innate ability to stand right behind you without you knowing. With me making caramel she really would be living up to her nickname of Death Wish. So I boiled my caramel, cleaned and dried my apples, prepared some yummy toppings, then got to dipping. By the time naptime was over the girls had a treat to take them through an extra long trip to the park.

Caramel Apples

(6-8 apples)

6-8 apples

2 cups brown sugar

1 3/4 cup heavy cream

2 tbsp butter

1/2 c corn syrup

Special Equipment:

candy thermometer
bamboo skewers, popsicle sticks, or chopsticks
parchment paper or Silpat

1. Wash and clean apples. If they are supermarket apples wash in hot water and wipe well to ensure that all wax is removed. Dry thoroughly, very thoroughly. Insert a stick into the core of each apple. Set aside.

2. Line a baking sheet with parchment rubbed with butter or a Silpat mat. Set aside.

3. Fill a large bowl with ice water. It should be big enough to safely hold the pot with the caramel mixture . Set aside.

4. Combine all ingredients (save for apples) in a saucepan at least 3 times the size of the mixture. Set on medium to high heat with the thermometer in the mixture. Cook until the temperature reaches 235-240 degrees F, approximately 10-15 minutes. As soon as it reaches temperature remove the pot from the heat and immerse the bottom of the pot in the bowl of ice water to cool. Stir and cool until the temperature measure 200 degrees F. DO NOT GET ANY WATER IN THE CARAMEL.

5. Dip your apples, one at a time, in the caramel. Twirl the apples to coat, then lift and twirl for 10-15 seconds letting the excess caramel drip off. Hold upright and repeat 10-15 seconds of twirling. Place on prepared cookie sheet to cool.

6. If desired, once the caramel has cooled for a minute or two dip in topping of choice.

Topping suggestions:

Chopped nuts
Toasted sesame seeds
Crushed pretzels
Dried fruit
Toffee bits
Crumbled, cooked bacon
Candy sprinkles
Crushed Gingersnaps

Caramel Dipping Sauce

(makes approximately 2 cups)

1 cup sugar

4 tbsp unsalted butter

1/2 cup heavy cream

1. In a medium saucepan melt sugar, swirling pan frequently, until amber in colour. There is no need to whisk or stir, just lift the pan and swirl the sugar until it is all melted and amber.

2. Cut butter into small chunks. Lift pot off burner and add in butter. Whisk to combine and return to heat until butter is melted and caramel is smooth.

3. Slowly add cream. Mixture will bubble and thicken. Continue to whisk until soft and smooth. Remove from heat.

4. Once cool, store in a glass jar until ready to use. Keeps for 1-2 weeks in the fridge or 3-4 months in the freezer. Serve as a dip for fruit, an ice cream topping, or on cake.

For those of you joining me from Breakfast Television, if you are also looking for the salted caramel ice cream recipe you can find it here. Print it now, before they shut down the site.

And for those of you interested in seeing my appearance on BT, you can find it here. Yes, I did indeed use bacon as a topping and it was delicious!

Sigh

2009-10-16T14:24:00.000-06:00

With more than a little impatience I've been watching the mailbox the last two weeks. Well, watching isn't quite the right term since I'm at work when our mailman comes. But the second my feet hit the ground out of the car I have a single vision. Sadly, it is not to kiss my girls hello or pet the pooches. Nope, I'm looking out for my last issue of Gourmet. Sigh. The last issue.

My Gourmet love started 15 years ago as an undergrad. I started buying the magazine from The Daily Grind in Halifax on my way home from the farmers' market. It was perfect for my busy life - I could read it in snippets and it transported me from the real daily grind of life as a working student.

Since those days I've been a faithful subscriber - even when we were stone cold broke it was my one luxury. I do indeed cook regularly from it. Last year in a fit of purging I only now regret I shared my magazines with a worthy recipient, dear Julie. I kept some memorable issues and I will be hanging on to the two years worth that I still have. And now it is gone. At least Julie is promising to open a lending library out of her basement. (Let me know if you need her address.) I still haven't stopped sighing.

I've also found myself defending the magazine to many. To the people who criticized the magazine as snobby, elitist, and catering to people with big gobs of time and money to cook and travel I say BAH! Don't get me wrong, it did have some pretty fantastical stuff. But it also had everyday recipes that included things like canned beans and frozen pizza dough. In The Kitchen Notebook section it broke down ingredients and techniques, making them quite manageable for the home cook. In the past few years Jane and Michael Stern's pieces were getting more and more play. And finally, I loved, absolutely loved the Politics of the Plate pieces.

Reading a magazine for me isn't about giving me 20 new ideas for a fast dinner. If I want that I can browse on-line or go to my mom's old Canadian Livings. But sitting down with a beer or a cup of tea, or flipping through the pages on a road trip were part escape and part inspiration. I may not make my own demi glace (I know people who do) but maybe I'll tackle beef stock again. Reading a magazine was my own little vacation.

I would be hard pressed to find a single recipe that I could say is a favourite from the magazine, but there are certainly some memorable ones - the chicken cashew chili is a favourite of Hubby's. And I've been making braised swiss chard with feta and currants a lot. On the list for the next dinner party is the apple pie with cheddar crust.

One of the most formative recipes from the magazine is one I've only made once. And that was a long, long time ago. I'm picking this one to share because the first time I had it was at the house of the only person I know personally to have ever been published in the magazine. Friends of mine from journalism school lived in the same city as we did for a few years. They had two adorable little boys that Hubby and I would frequently babysit. They were writers and I adored them. Valerie wrote a little piece about a fantastic bakery in Edmonton and Ruth Reichl published it. I don't think we celebrated with this cake, but in my memory I am toasting both Valerie and Gourmet with it.

Coconut Cake with Lime Curd

(PS A Mingling of Tastes is gathering Gourmet obituaries and musings. Check them out!)

Slightly Regrouped

2009-10-13T15:05:00.000-06:00

It wasn't just the pie, but that definitely had something to do with it. It might have been the four day weekend. Or maybe staying home with our modern family (our friends) did it for me. Quite possibly it was simply sleeping for more than 5 hours a night. Whatever it was, I can feel some of my mojo coming back. And yes, this pie had a lot to do with it.

Maple makes me happy. In a delirious sort of way. I fully admit to taking swigs of maple syrup from the bottle. I will find any excuse to include it in a recipe from baked beans to oatmeal cookies to lamb stew with dumplings. The sight of a real sugar maple is enough to make me start salivating. So this Rustic Maple Pecan Pie indeed made me happy.

It made me happy to read about it in the first place. It made me happy to make it yesterday afternoon while the rest of the house napped. It made me happy to share it with our close-knit friends after a raucous Thanksgiving dinner. And it is making me happy to share it with you.

Thank-you to Aimée at Under the High Chair for letting me share this with you. Use your favourite pie crust, I went with my standard Pate Brisée.

Rustic Maple Pecan Pie

(courtesy of Aimée's Auntie Lynn)

1 unbaked 9 inch pie shell

2 eggs

3/4 cup brown sugar

2 tablespoons flour

1 cup pure maple syrup

2 tablespoons butter, melted

1/2 chopped pecans (I used a bit more than that)

1 teaspoon pure vanilla

1/4 teaspoon salt

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.

2. Beat eggs in a medium sized bowl. Stir flour into brown sugar and add to eggs. Mix well. Stir in remaining ingredients.

3. Pour into pie shell and bake for 40 minutes.

4. Serve with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream. And more maple syrup drizzled on top.

Just Friday

2009-10-09T13:28:00.000-06:00

If you've seen my mojo can you please give it back?

Maybe it was the turn in weather from our snippet of fall to pretty much winter. Generally I would enjoy that, but this has just been a week to get me down. The one thing keeping me going is the thought of Thanksgiving this weekend. Hands down, it is my favourite holiday. And I had grand plans for sharing recipes all week for some lovely dishes. Instead, I'm going to send you off to this site for breakfast. One day I will get the chance to really enjoy that first cup of hot tea and some hand pies in quiet contemplation of the last issue of Gourmet. For now I'll scarf the pies, burn my tongue on the tea, and read a paragraph or two in the midst of screaming, Super Why, and dirty bums.

Another Condiment Obsession

2009-09-30T20:22:00.001-06:00

I’ve had a mild obsession with tomatoe marmalade since out weekend in the Okanagan. After our trip to the market the clouds broke and we ventured to the aptly named community of Summerland. There we drove up the mountain to the colourful Valentine Farm. Our hosts, Kim Stansfield and John Gordon, met us in the yard of their compact property, next to their fantastic home and guest house.

After introductions we gathered our lunch from the generous garden of Kim and John, under the watchful eye of an odd looking llama, a couple of horses, and a friendly guard dog names Asta. We picked a half dozen types of greens, beets, radish pods, corn, flowers, and lots of tomatoes (minus the ones Hubby scarfed while picking).

Kim and John are more than mere gardeners. They are grape growers too. But unlike every other wine maker or grape grower in the region who fears their wine spoiling), Kim and John intentionally infect their wine with acetic acid to turn it into a pungent and flavourful vinegar John showed us their small production facility (a very nice looking and obsessively clean garage) then set to finishing our lunch in the outdoor, wood-fired oven.

Our gathered items made their way into the most diverse salad I've ever had, dressed, of course, with Vinegar Works organic vinegar. We were also served a large platter of sliced heirloom tomatoes reminiscent of a sunrise. Smaller tomatoes made their way on to the wood fired pizzas.

Oh, the pizzas. The most tender yet crispy and somehow bulbous crust (yes, all at the same time) covered with tomatoes, sometimes chard, feta, and my newfound obsession: tomatoe marmalade. Can I just say I will never made a pizza without tomatoe marmalade ever again? I would love to say that I will only ever eat pizza from a wood-fired backyard oven, but I don't live in Summerland or here to make that happen. But so long as I can hit 450 degrees F on m home oven I will be using this as my sauce.

So when my mother-in-law showed up with 20 pounds of Romas last week I set to work. The girls helped as much as it held their interest. For Smilosaurus this meant transferring tomatoes from the box to the sink for washing, sampling along the way. She also had a special job of stealing the cloth for cleaning the jars. For The Monster helping meant transferring blanched tomatoes to the ice water, stirring the marmalade as it cooked, and helping label the finished jars. See, you can can with kids underfoot. Okay, it helps if your mother-in-law is around for bike rides and swing pushes when it gets a little boring for the little ones.

This marmalade sweet and just a little bit spicy. It sets about as much as a runny jam. I'm saving mine for pizza, but The Monster has already claimed some for dipping fresh bread. It isn't Kim Stansfield's recipe, but I think it is nearly as good. Then again, I'm not sure I could ever recreate that lunch and the taste of sunshine in every bite of our meal.

Tomatoe Marmalade

(makes 7-9 250 mL jars)

12 cups peeled, chopped tomatoes (drained of liquid)

9 cups sugar

1 orange, thinly sliced

1 lemon, thinly sliced

1 tablespoon whole cloves

6 cinnamon sticks

1 teaspoon fennel seeds

1 tablespoon coriander seeds

2 green cardamon pods

1. Mix the tomatoes and sugar together in a large pot. Place the remaining ingredients in a bag made from cheesecloth. Put the cheesecloth bag and tomatoes together in a large pot and set on the stove.

2. Bring to a strong simmer and cook for 45-60 minutes, until mixture thickens and the juices are syrupy. Test for gel by placing a plate in the freezer. When the plate is cold place a spoonful of the marmalade on the the plate and replace the plate in the freezer. After a few minutes, run your fingernail through the marmalade. If it doesn't immediately fill the space left by your finger it is ready. If the liquid runs back on itself cook the marmalade for another few minutes. Test again.

3. Meanwhile, wash and sterilize your jars, lids, and screw tops in boiling water. Keep the jars hot until ready to use.

4. When the marmalade is ready fill the jars to 1/2 inch from the top. Wipe the rims clean with a hot, clean cloth. Top with the lids and screw tops.

5. Process in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes (start timing once the water has returned to the boil after adding the filled jars). Freeze or immediately use any jars that don't seal.

Pears, Pears, and More Pears

2009-09-23T20:33:00.000-06:00

While I'm not sure if any food makes me as happy as a warm strawberry plucked right off the plant I must admit that this pear comes deliriously close. It isn't quite right off the tree, but you don't want that anyway. Rather, a pear does better with a few days on the kitchen counter to mellow into its juicy, sexy sweetness. In the case of this pear it excelled with a couple of days in the Mission Hill Family Estate kitchen, a 7 hour drive in the backseat, and a few more sultry days on our kitchen counter. Then it turned into a TV star.

Before we ventured to the Okanagan last week I booked my first TV appearance on Breakfast Television. The timing was perfect and I spent some of our time at the Penticton Farmers' Market searching for the perfect pears to bring home. The pears at the market were perfect, if I wanted to eat them that day. Our guide, Matt Batey, heard my lament and offered up some Mission Hill pears. They'd been picked the day before and would I like to stop by the Estate and pick them up when we were on our way home?

What a no brainer. Of course, it meant that we didn't get home in time for the girls' bedtime. Ah, they'd hardly noticed we were gone anyway.

After days of touring around the Naramata Bench and visiting people in their homes, garages, and vineyards it was quite a shock to our senses to arrive at the Mission Hill Family Estates sprawling grounds. From the second you pass through the gates at the end of a residential drive the entire experience is choreographed. You pass through the keystone (above) and enter the grounds. Your view is filled with the sky, lake, and mountains behind, all framed by the Terrace restaurant, Bell Tower, Visitor Center, and the overwhelming feeling of luxury.

Then Matt greeted us in his chef whites and brought us back to reality with a tour of the gardens, kitchen, and food experience of Mission Hill. The place may be all about the wine, with gardens and menus built to frame that wine, but the passion in the food and in Matt was evident. I am dying to go back and try a winemaker dinner or culinary workshop. Another trip...

Here is Matt in the garden. One of the fascinating things about the gardens here was that they are planted by grape varietal. It was like food and wine pairing for idiot cooks. Well, probably a bit fancier than that. But in case you didn't know, Chardonnay works with cilantro, lily, corn, beans, squash, mint, and yes, pears.

Then there were the pears. After pulling out a few crates Matt and I packed out one full crate of Bartletts, Bosc, and Asian pears to take home. Thank-you Matt, you're just lucky that they survived the drive home. He and Hubby seem to share a certain propensity for big, bad cars and heavy feet.

Yes, that is the seatbelt getting good use on the Old Okanagan Highway. No carseats on this trip, but safety always comes first!

So my precious beauties arrived home safely. They were the perfect inspiration for the some lovely dishes. Hubby watched the girls last night and I baked, kneaded, and chopped to prep for this morning's BT appearance. I made Pear, Gorgonzola, and Carmelized Onion Pizza, Asian Pear Slaw, Upside Down Pear Gingerbread Cake, and Cardamon Hand Pies. The Monster helped me with the ultimate recipe, the Honey Pear Cheesecake. It was a good thing she helped me last night because apparently she had a fit this morning watching me on TV. "I want to bake a cake with Mama on TV!" Maybe next time, Sweetie.

Honey Pear Vanilla Cheesecake

(Serves 10-12)

2 cups graham cracker crumbs (or crushed Nilla wafers, gingersnaps, or plain biscotti)

¼ cup butter, melted

2 tbsp sugar

3 (8 ounce) blocks of cream cheese, room temperature

½ cup honey

3 large eggs

1 vanilla bean

¾ cup pear puree or ½ cup pear nectar

½ cup flour

1 pear, peeled and finely diced

1 cup sour cream (optional)

¼ cup honey (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Boil a full kettle of water.

2. Mix together the cookie/cracker crumbs, sugar, and melted butter until the consistency of wet sand. Press into a 9 inch springform pan, across the bottom and coming up the sides slightly. Bake for 15 minutes. Cool slightly and wrap the bottom of pan in two overlapping layers of aluminum foil.

3. Combine cream cheese and honey and beat until smooth. Add the eggs, one at a time, incorporating after each addition. Slice the vanilla bean in half lengthwise and using the back of a small paring knife scrape the seeds from the bean. Add the seeds to the cream cheese mixture along with the pear puree or nectar and the flour. Mix until smooth. Finally, stir in the diced pear.

4. Pour the batter into the prepared crust and place in the springform pan in a larger pan. Transfer to the oven. Before closing the oven door pour water from the boiled kettle into the larger pan until it comes about halfway up the sides of the springform pan.

5. Bake for 45-55 minutes, until the cheesecake seems firm but still slightly wiggles in the center. Turn off the oven and close the oven door. Keep in the oven for another 60 minutes. Remove and cool completely in the fridge.

6. Optional topping: Before serving mix together the sour cream and ¼ cup honey. Pour over the cheesecake. (A nice touch or a way to disguise surface cracks.)

(Doesn't Dave Kelly look so enraptured by something? Probably not me or my pears - although I did manage to call them sexy on morning TV - but the segment went well.)

Backseat Adventure - Penticton Farmers' Market

2009-09-21T21:22:00.000-06:00

The Backseat Gourmet really took the show on the road last weekend. Well, Hubby and I did. Our little eaters stayed home while we went to the Okanagan Food and Wine Writers Workshop. We lived up to the Eater title, and then some. Throw in a lot of drinking, laughing, touring, sabering, and foraging and you've got a lovely four day Mommy and Daddy vacation.

The highlights from the trip are many. Sublime meals, foraging our own lunch, actually learning how to taste and describe wines, and learning from other fascinating writers and editors. Today I'm going to bring you our rainy morning excursion to the Penticton Farmers' Market.

I was eagerly awaiting our trip to the market after a particularly splendid and gloriously special meal on our first night of the workshop. Catered by Joy Road Catering the meal featured some spectacular food - lamb, a ridiculously good Santa Rose plum tart, and the most phenomenal green beans ever to have grown. I couldn't stop talking about the beans for days. Simply steamed and tossed with pickled cipollini onions they were the pure definition of fresh and tasted like the colour green. When I found out that I could buy them from a vendor at the market I repeatedly told my fellow participants that any and all beans were mine, and only mine. I'm sure it did little to ingratiate me to them, but I needed those beans.

When we arrived for breakfast the rain was looming. And by the time we finished there was quite the downpour drenching the streets. A few brave souls that actually thought to bring umbrellas started the walk while the rest of us remained behind, waiting for our short bus. By the time we reached the market and got underway the anxiety was creeping in. Coffees in hand and introductions made we ventured down Main Street to visit the stalls.

Vans and trucks parked behind white awnings. Some vendors without tents with drops of water glistening on the squash and apples. Water dripping off the hats of grizzled men committed to their product. Two simple blocks of vendors selling their own veggies, garlic, herbs, sausage, coffee, and baking. Nothing fancy, little in the way of crafts, and more organic produce in one section that the largest Planet Organic in the country.

With the Similkameen Valley as part of the catchment for the market the number of organic producers was a significant portion of the vendors. The Similkameen Valley has a disproportionately large number of organic producers. I made the observation that there were more organic vendors than conventional in the market. It was a refreshing change.

It was also refreshing to know that of the vendors we stopped at we were actually meeting the producers. They could tell us everything about each particular tomatoe or apple. Their hands were dirty from picking that morning, their trucks low on gas from the trip into town. This one tomatoe guy from Naramata knew the name of each and everyone one of his probably 20 different kinds of heirloom tomatoes. He told us about the complex pen pal relationships he and other growers have to exchange and save seeds. He entertained a curious four year old with trick tomatoes and dancing gourds. And when I went to pay I finally noticed his classic scale. How cool is this?

But what about those green beans? At every stall I thought, "this is it!" We met lovely farmers and oohed and aahed over persian cucumbers, tiny tomatoes, and juicy pears. Finally, finally we got to Gabi's stall. I pored over her pretty baskets of cute little veggies, desperate for those beans. Someone grabbed the last bunch of cipollini onions while my eyes wandered over every basket and bag in the intense desire for those tender strings of green. It may have been the rain, but I think I cried a little when told that the beans were sold out.

Sigh. My heart was marginally mended when Julie shared with me one quarter of the last plum tart from Joy Road Catering's stall. The tart they saved just for her. We joked about our tears of joy having calories that weekend, but mine at that moment was just a little bit sad.

I would be remiss if I did not thank Jennifer Cockrall-King for organizing such a fabulous workshop. Wow, this Food Girl rocks! She organized a tremendous slate of events, with meals that can hardly be described by my words. She brought together a fantastic and diverse group of people that were teasing each other and sharing glasses by the end of the weekend.

I also have to thank our host that morning, Mathew Batey, the executive chef at Mission Hill Winery. More on him to come.

PS What are you doing on Wednesday morning? I'll be on Breakfast Television here in Calgary, cooking with some lovely pears that I brought back from our trip. I hope you'll join me.

Well then

2009-09-16T12:22:00.000-06:00

As a parent I often question the sanity and relevance of what I'm doing. Daily. Should I force her to clear her plate, where are her manners, do time-outs really work? Then, once in a blue moon, they say or do something that makes you stand up and applaud yourself. Yay, something I'm doing in sinking in! Case in point, this morning.

The Monster: What are you doing Mama?

Me: Making peach crisp.

The Monster: Oh, can I have some? (picking at the topping)

Me: Just one piece, the rest has to go on top of the peaches.

The Monster: But Mama, I'm just an Eater.

I won't be changing the name of the blog anytime soon, but she quite handily settled the debate between Foodie and Gourmet.

Eden in the Dust

2009-09-12T15:08:00.000-06:00

So we finally get our grass in, our fence up, and have even hosted dinner once or twice. Then the City and Volker Stevin show up. They tore up part of our new front lawn, ripped apart the alley around our entire blocks, and now use our yard as the traffic line between alley and front street. Oh, and did I mention that my yard is surrounded by giant 20 foot deep holes? The noise and dust are constant. Thank goodness the girls can sleep through it. I only wish I could.

For two little kids the continual movement of machinery and big men is rather fascinating. We can watch at the window for hours and whenever we are heading out to the park or the men are taking a break we investigate the most recent digging. Apparently it is quite an ordeal to move a fire hydrant across the street. I can be amused by some new-to-me truck, but that's where my enthusiasm ends.

Then the pastry arrived.

Yesterday we shared some fresh cookies (baked to take the autumn chill off the house in the morning) with the builder men. The Monster was quite disappointed that not all of them were taken. Try explaining Ramadan to a 3 year old. Any and all sadness disappeared when one of the guys let her go in the giant hole today. And all my annoyance with the noise quickly shot out the backdoor when one guy arrived this afternoon bearing a tray of phyllo pastry. He insisted that we take half of it, and then more because some pieces were small.

At first we thought it was a variation on baclava. Phyllo spinkled with pistachios and honey. It seemed like a safe guess. Then we bit into it. The phyllo triangles are actually filled with some sort of mildly sweet, thick custard. It is not the same as the filling in a cannoli, being quite smooth and not tasting of cheese. But it also isn't like a typical pastry cream, being thicker and quite white in colour.

Unfortunately, our delivery guy couldn't tell us what was in it. Any clue out there?

Don't Judge Me

2009-09-08T22:24:00.001-06:00

I refuse to give up yet. Despite the fact that we nearly had frost the last two nights here in the city, despite the fact that it is already dark when the girls go the bed and the sun was almost eerily autumn-like at the park today, and despite the fact that yes, the leaves are starting to fall off the tree I refuse to accept than summer is over. At least when it comes to my food. So I'm still eating peaches and watermelon. I will grill burgers until my fingers freeze. And I will still serve my kids ice cream for dinner.

We picked up this watermelon on the weekend. With rind so dark that it looked like it was buried in the forest when it grew. And when we cut it open it was sweet and seedy. I actually had to look it up, but did you know that a watermelon is in the same family as squashes and gourds? The cut fruit reminded me of a squash, with ropy strands of flesh combining in a pulpy mass of seeds in the center of the fruit. We scooped out the seeds rather than cut around them and were left with an inch of the most watermelon tasting watermelon I've ever had. I'm kicking myself that I didn't take note of the variety.

Aside from cutting slices and eating the watermelon straight - which the girls love - I prepared this watermelon the easiest way I know. I made a milkshake. Yeah, I said it, a watermelon milkshake.

In my house growing up we had the choice of two summer desserts - a raspberry milkshake and a watermelon milkshake. (Maybe a banana one if there happened to be a banana left behind in a house of three competitive swimmers.) Watermelon milkshakes were my personal favourite. Yet, whenever I mentioned it to friends they all got grossed out. Like seriously grossed out. I never understood that. What's wrong with creamy watermelon? And really, that's what a watermelon milkshake tastes like. And there is nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with that.

It turns out the palest of pink. A mix of equal parts watermelon puree and vanilla ice cream. That's it. Resist the urge to add more ice cream to make a thick milkshake, you will lose the balance of sweetness and fresh taste from the watermelon.

Oh yeah, and I fed it to my kids for dinner tonight. Sadly, they only had a few sips and moved on to bread and baked beans.

Things I Have Learned as a CSA Virgin

2009-09-01T21:50:00.000-06:00

We are about halfway through our first CSA experience. What have we learned so far?

1. The entire family really enjoys going out to the pick-up spot to picking up our weekly delivery, including the dogs. Of course, when it is in the parking lot of an off-leash park that certainly makes it easier for our family. In truth, we really enjoy chatting with the other members and in talking to our farmers, Jon, Andrea, and Manou. And to be honest, as exhausting as it is for them I think they get a bit of energy in talking to us members. They hear about what we made the previous week, they see the girls eager to grab something out of the basket to try, and connect with the people who really appreciate all their hard work.

2. I've paid attention to the weather more this summer. Generally I get annoyed with people who complain about it being too hot, too rainy, too cold, too, too, too. Get over it people, you live in Canada. But I really noticed this year that June was dry and we're getting our good heat late.

3. You can grow some really cool, and really unique things in this climate. All sorts of Asian greens like tatsoi, edible herbs like Mallow (which even the former Gardening Editor of Martha Stewart Living, Margaret Roach, didn't even know about!), and ten million different kinds of lettuce.

4. Therefore, you must like salads. You will eat them everyday, for lunch and supper. I've come up with some fantastic salad combos this summer. My recent favourite has been baby greens with nectarines, walnuts, sunflower seeds, and balsamic vinaigrette.

5. It is hard to not be tempted by the other goodies you find at the farmers' market. We really do get enough from our CSA share for veggies for the week with two adults and two little ones in the family, especially of late. But the peas, beans, corn, and cauliflower all look so good! But if I buy them then something may go to waste.

6. Therefore, you share. In order not to get overrun with salads I've shared my greens with neighbours and family. Or at least invited people over to get through it all. This is really just an extension of the notion of community that a CSA membership inherently promotes. And that is a fabulous thing.

7. Finally, you must really, really like Swiss Chard. I mean really like it. We've had it every week for the past five. And one week Jon doubled up my share when her heard we liked it. Good thing we really like it. Aside from freezing the extra bits for winter soups, we've made roasted chickpeas with garlic and chard (which the girls love), simple sauteed chard, swiss chard frittata, swiss chard with raisins and feta, spaghetti carbonara with swiss chard, and my all time favourite, swiss chard fricos.

The frico is traditionally a pile of melted cheese, usually parmesan, that crisps up like a cracker as it cools. This version is a rip-off of a recipe I saw on Lydia's Italy. The things you learn from PBS when tied to a chair nursing a newborn! I saw this last summer and they are a staple in this house now. I find it highly appropriate that Smilosaurus loves them as much as I do.

This version sandwiches the crispy melted cheese around cooked chard and onions. So you get green sweetness in the middle of crispy saltiness. Pretty much a perfect taste.

Lydia made hers when she was focused on the Fruilia region of Italy, therefore using a fantastic Montasio cheese. Montasio is nutty and buttery, on the hard side of the cheese scale. I've found both Italian and Canadian Montasio at the Italian markets. There is a significant price difference, and yes, a taste difference. Not a bad one, but a noticeable one. If your budget allows definitely go for the Italian. I've also made this with Parmesan and Asiago. Either works quite well.

Swiss Chard Fricos

(makes 8-10)

1 bunch Swiss Chard

1/2 small onion, red or white

1 clove garlic

1/2 cup water

olive oil

1 egg, beaten

2 tablespoons flour

1 cup coarsely grated parmesan or asiago cheese

1. Grate the cheese use the large holes on a box grater. Set aside.

2. Remove ribs from swiss chard and reserve for another use. Coarsely chop leaves of swiss chard.

3. Slice onion half in half again lengthwise and slice across, creating roughly 1 inch slivers of onion. Finely chop garlic clove.

4. Place swiss chard and water in a non-stick or cast iron frying pan, salt generously, cover and steam 5 minutes. Remove from pan and drain well. Wipe pan dry.

5. Place onions in dry pan and drizzle with olive oil and a pinch of salt. Cook over medium heat until soft but translucent. Add in the garlic and cook for 30 seconds until you can just smell the garlic. Remove from heat and place in a bowl to cool. Wipe pan clean.

6. When onions and chard have cooled slightly mix together with the egg and flour. Season with a bit of pepper. It will be wet and sticky.

7. With pan on medium heat, put your cheese on a plate beside the stove. Working one at a time create patties with the swiss chard mixture. Place the patty on the cheese plate. Using your fingers push down gently and then cover the patty with more cheese. Carefully lift the patty and place it in the hot pan. The cheese will start to melt. Resist the urge to lift up the patty for at least 1-2 minutes. The cheese will melt, brown, and form a crust. When it does flip it over with a flat spatula and cook on the other side. Repeat with the remaining mixture. Serve hot as an appetizer or side dish.

Backseat Adventure - Bowden Sunmaze

2009-08-24T21:34:00.001-06:00

Hot summer Saturdays are made for running through fields. As long as you don't have any real work to do, of course, other than chasing toddlers through sunflowers. This past weekend we took friends of ours out to the Bowden Sunmaze.

Good city folks who don't have much in the way of a yard and whose outdoor experiences focus on hiking and fishing they oohed and ahed at the countryside North of Calgary. They showed their kids how corns grows (after some considerable debate by us parents on the purpose of the grassy/flowery part on the top of the stalk), we tested raw sunflower seeds, ran through the fields, pet the donkeys, and had a picnic. And all this a mere hour away from the city.

The Bowden Sunmaze is owned by Eagle Creek Farms. Part of the Innisfail Growers they produce a variety of vegetables to sell at various Alberta Farmers Markets. You can also come to the Sunmaze and U-Pick vegetables and flowers. They have potatoes, onions, beans, chard, kohlrabi, turnips, carrots, lillies, zinnias, grasses, and so much more. And don't forget the garlic, Farmer John's speciality.

Of course, U-Pick is great, if you have the energy after tearing around after 4 little ones through both the sunflower and two corn mazes. Sadly, we did not. But we did get some fresh garlic in the store and visiting John at the Calgary Farmers' Market the next day. But The Monster has been asking about the donkeys and the sunflowers so a return trip might be necessary in the coming week.
The Sunmaze is a perfect example of agro-tourism. If you build it they will come. Families and tourists come for the maze, and leave with arms laden with veggies and flowers. This includes the carloads of Chinese tourists there the day we went and the numerous families chasing each other through the maze. And hopefully those people will start visiting the market if they don't already just because they remembered that the Eagle Creek folks would be there.

The set-up is wonderful. Beyond the flush toilets for the city folks, there is a defined picnic area complete with tables, and all surrounded by a menagerie of animals to entertain the little ones. There is nothing gimmicky - unless you count the mazes themselves - to bring people in. There are no bouncy castles, animal races, or balloons - all irrelevant on the farm but popular for bringing in families.

All our kids were terribly excited to watch the lambs and calves, try to pet the donkeys, and risk a peck in order to have the chickens take a piece of grass from their hands. Sure, it isn't the down and dirty of real farm work, but I think these are all valuable experiences for them. Like I said, next time we'll take them in the fields. And The Monster already understands that that calf will grow up to be her steak. She still says moo when calling it, but in the next breath she'll ask which cow we're having for dinner.

As our afternoon wound down and the kids started demanding their naps we took one last wander through the property, with me itemizing the U-Pick opportunities that would be easy for kids (onions and beans), we all commented on the luxury of the experience. Even our box-store grocery shopping friends took the time to explain some food production to their kids (and each other). We remarked at how easy it is to have an experience like this so close to the city. And we left with some fresh garlic. Some very strong, make any Ukrainian or Italian proud garlic.

Too Lazy to Cook

2009-08-19T21:18:00.000-06:00

It isn't too hot. There is no family crisis. And we aren't being pulled in ten million directions.

Nope. It's just a week filled with dogs using beds and carpets as bathrooms, teething babies, whining and sniveling Monsters, taking care of the neighbours' incredible barfing cat, and a miserable time at work. So no, I don't feel like cooking.

Last night we went out. Yeah, that was a mistake. The girls are normally great in a restaurant, but last night they were not. So rather than resort to true laziness and simply boiling water for pasta I pulled out some leftover bread from Aviv. A quick survey of the counter and fridge revealed the rest of the ingredients for dinner: tomatoes, peaches, and some mallow and green onions from last week's CSA delivery.

Yup, when you are too lazy to cook you can still have a damn tasty meal. Just 10 minutes of chopping and a quick drizzle of oil and vinegar and you've got panzanella. For us non-italians, that means bread salad.

This is a technique more so than a recipe. I've never made this without tomatoes, but the rest of it depends on what herbs and other veggies I have around. Sometimes cucumber and red onions. Sometimes coriander and roast peppers. And today, peaches, mallow, and green onions.

Basic Panzanella

serves 1-4, or more

1/2 to 1 loaf of day old crusty bread

1 pint cherry tomatoes or two to three tomatoes, chopped

peaches, cucumbers, onions, peppers, or veg of choice - a couple of chopped handfuls

1-2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

2-3 tablespoons of fresh herbs - basil, mint, oregano, mallow

olive oil

balsamic vinegar

1. Tear or cut your bread into rough 1 inch pieces.

2. Place bread in a bowl, add tomatoes and remaining ingredients of choice. Add garlic and herbs.

3. Drizzle generously with olive oil and vinegar. Season generously and eat.

Oh, and in case you thought that even this dinner was immune to the daily frustrations of life these days this was half of dinner, before we even started. I was coming inside after taking a few pictures and the dog jumped up, knocking the bowl from my hand. Sigh.

Chips and Chopsticks

2009-08-14T13:40:00.001-06:00

A few months ago The Monster and I made a special trip to Chinatown. In addition to paying the taxman we wandered around in search of something very special - kid friendly chopsticks. I couldn't tell you the name of the store we found them in, with me not speaking Cantonese or Mandarin. But we found the pint sized chopsticks and the little black plastic chopsticks training. I don't know if that's what you call it, but I refer to is as the training wheels for the chopsticks.

And here is the household's favourite use for chopsticks: eating potato chips. Hubby has been doing this for as long as I've known him. Before you scoff and giggle at this odd habit, think about it for a minute. Most of us eat chips while watching TV. If you use chopsticks you do not have the lick your fingers or get the remote greasy. Ingenious, right?

So Hubby has The Monster trained up. Now, if only I could get him to stop feeding her chips.

Impress Your Girlfriends

2009-08-10T21:48:00.001-06:00

The next time you've got friends coming over for dinner or brunch and are worried about impressing them, make this dish. You will look like a star, with 10 minutes of effort. Just 10 minutes. It works for mother-in-laws too.

This is the humble clafoutis. See, it even has a fancy French name (pronounced kla-foo-TEE). It's not a showstopper cake topped with ganache. Nor is it a buttercream topped cupcake. And nay, it is not a labor-intensive pie. Just a simple clafoutis.

It does look good, though, right?

Traditionally a clafoutis is made with cherries, and nothing but cherries. But we came home from a weekend visiting family facing a limited supply of groceries. I had a lot of apricots and a lot of cherries. With just a few other simple ingredients we had dinner.

Yes, I said dinner. We had a late lunch on the way into town so this is what we ate before the girls went to bed. I whipped it up, stuck it in the oven while we finally hung the swing Smilosaurus got for her birthday. After the tantrums started I took the ridiculously good smelling 'pancake' out of the oven and we promptly ate it all but one piece. And that one was eaten Nigella style at 3 am by me.

It really is an easy recipe. All you need is a blender and a pie plate. Smilosaurus even pushed the button on the bender for me. Without any effort you can have dessert, or my favourite concept, brunch.

And the taste? It is described as a pancake or custard. I thought it was more crepe like, but a bit heavier. Baked custard? Just know that it isn't pie, cobbler, crisp, crumble or buckle. It is clafoutis.

As I said, I used apricots and cherries, but any stone fruit or berry would work. Perhaps peaches and raspberries or plums, apricots, and nectarines. The recipe is based on one I found during Summer Fest, and comes from good ol' Martha.

Fruit Clafoutis

(serves 4-6)

1/2 cup vanilla sugar

2/3 cup milk

1/3 cup heavy cream

3 eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/2 teaspoon almond extract

2/3 cup flour

1/4 teaspoon salt

3 cups sliced fruit

1. Peel and slice fruit (peaches, plum, or apricots into 6-8 slices and cherries in half). Set aside.

1. Butter a 9 inch pie dish and dust with a tablespoon of sugar. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

2. Blend all ingredients except for the fruit in a blender for a minute.

3. Pour half the custard mixture into the prepared pie plate. Arrange fruit on top and pour the rest of the custard over the fruit.

4. Bake for 45-55 minutes, until the top is golden brown and puffy.

Serve warm or cold with whipped cream.

Backseat Adventure - City Market Edmonton

2009-08-06T21:20:00.001-06:00

Hubby and I missed the whole loft train. For awhile we referred to our flooded and unfinished basement as a "New York Open Concept Loft-Style Basement". Had we eschewed getting a dog I think we may have found ourselves one of the original warehouse conversions in downtown Edmonton. Okay, I would have fought for it and he would have defended his manly right to a lawn.

Back then downtown Edmonton was a place that positively died after 5 pm. Other than a handful of restaurants, a mediocre casino, and lots of offices filled with hard-working lawyers there wasn't much going on. And what little was happening was the sort of activity that most of us don't want to see. No matter how cool the space I never would have convinced him to move there. I still don't think I could convince him - even without kids and dogs and the new lawn - but the City Market could possibly be tipping point.

Downtown Edmonton now is certainly not the place I wanted to move to 10 years ago, and not even close to the place it was 6 years ago when we left the city. Damn, it is a vibrant place! There are phenomenal restaurants that actually serve more than lunch, lofts and condos sprouting up everywhere, and retail stores that sell gorgeous, trendy, and expensive stuff. There's even a grocery store. Not a corner store, but an actual grocery store right in the core.

The City Market, however, is an homage to the old nature of a farmers' market - bringing produce to the urban markets. Located just off Jasper Ave, on a street filled with refreshed and new buildings, the City Market brings over 60 vendors - both food and craft - to the new denizens of downtown Edmonton. it also brings people tired of the crowds, strollers, and popularity of both the Strathcona and St. Albert farmers markets. Plus, they have really cool traditions.

My sister-in-law and I - kids in tow - hit the market on what was probably the first really good weekend for local produce. There were carrots, peas, greens, potatoes, herbs, strawberries, scapes, baby beets, and those fabulous sour cherries. We sampled and drooled our way through the stalls. She's been there before so she pointed out some great crafts (I got a fantastic dress for The Monster) and knew where to get the better deals. We weren't crowded with our strollers and my nephew flirted his way into the hearts of everyone woman he met.

It was really fantastic to see the area so alive, so vibrant. As a former Edmontonian I will fully admit to pride in the city, the area, and especially the market. In fact, the only thing that spoiled my morning was the lady who stole my strawberries. Seriously, I said quite distinctly and not loudly that I wanted two pints of strawberries to the vendor and this lady pushed her hand through the person next to me and my sister-in-law and practically snatched it out of the vendor's hand. Considering that there were only three pints left and one of them as already in the hands on my sister-in-law I, being a nice person, said nothing and settled for one pint.

There must also be something special about the atmosphere there. Immediately after I delivered a huge speech about how Smilosaurus ate everything but raspberries she started grunting, pointing, and rubbing her hands together while I paid for my peaches and raspberries. For those of you not up to speed on baby speak that means "Please, please, pretty please can I have that? NOW!" So I grabbed another pint, we sat on the curb, and promptly ate them all. Yup, there is definitely something special about the place.

Taste Adventure - Sour Cherries

2009-08-04T09:17:00.000-06:00

Behold, the sour cherry. And the sour cherry pie. Oh, the sweet sour cherry pie.

Until about 10 days ago I always thought that sour cherries were an edible myth created by American food editors. Created to make do with smaller Bing cherries or like fried green tomatoes, something to do with unripe fruit. Then I was wandering through the tables of yet another BC fruit seller at the market, comparing prices for a small container of blueberries, when I noticed the sign. If it wasn't for the sign I probably wouldn't have noticed the sour cherries. They looked like a smaller, paler cousin to the giant Bings. So I snapped up a large container for a ridiculous price and daydreamed about all the recipes I've read over the years.

And then I remembered that I gave away all my magazines.

But really, there was only one thing to do. How could I not make pie to pop my sour cherry? Yes, I just said that. That's how monumental this is.

The first taste was surprising. You know the canned cherry pie filling you can buy? The kind that fills every commercial pie and black forest cake? Surprisingly, a plain sour cherry tastes exactly like that, just less sweet. I had kind of figured that this mythical creature was like grape juice - the real tasting radically different from the processed. That taste excited me immensely and gave me a huge boost of confidence. I figured there was no way to mess this up.

To give you an idea of the size of a sour cherry here it is next to an organic Rainier. The organic ones are smaller than the regular ones and that sour cherry seemed positively tiny in comparison to a regular Bing. They were easy to pit, simply coming apart between my thumbs.

The Monster and I pitted the cherries, we boiled the juices with some cornstarch and sugar, stirred in the rest of the cherries and a generous pat of butter. Then I made some pate brisee, chilled it, and when I rolled it out I knew I had a winner. I made the pies, mopped on some cream, and sprinkled them with raw sugar for some extra crunch. I put them in a hot oven, then I promptly forgot about them.

It was a near disaster in an already frustrating day. But I caught them just before complete failure. The juices ran just a little and those were the really cooked bits, and easily picked off. In the end, though, they were the perfect finish to an eventful day. And like any good first date, it ended well. So well.

I do have some cherry pie filling left. I froze the bit that was left in the hopes that I'll find more sour cherries this weekend. If not, then I figure I'm going to try and use regular Bings, perhaps with a bit of almond extract added.

Cherry Hand Pies
Makes 15-16 generously sized pies

Pate brisee (enough for a double crust pie)

5 cups pitted sour cherries, loosely packed

3/4 cup granulated sugar or vanilla sugar

3 tablespoons cornstarch

2 tablespoons water

1/2 lemon, juice

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 tablespoons butter

1. Make your pate brisee or pie crust recipe. Chill well.

2. Once you have pitted your cherries drain them. Pour off the juice into a small saucepan, with one cup of cherries and the sugar. Heat over medium high heat until the sugar is dissolved and liquid is boiling.

3. Meanwhile, stir the cornstarch and the water together. Once the cherry liquid is boiling add the cornstarch mixture. Continue to boil until the liquid is clear, a few minutes.

4. Remove from heat and add the butter. Once the butter is melted add the remaining cherries. Set aside to cool.

5. Once the mixture is cool take your pate brisee out of the fridge. On a lightly floured surface roll out the dough to a quarter inch thickness. Cut into roughly 4 by 6 inch squares or cut out circles about 5 inches in diameter, whatever is your preference.

6. Working one at a time, place 2 heaping tablespoons of filling on the center of each piece of dough. Fold one side over the other and seal well by pinching the edges together. You could finish by pressing a fork around the edge.

7. Place on a Silpat or parchment lined cookie sheet, brush with cream or milk, sprinkle with raw sugar, and cut two small slits in the top of each. Place in the freezer.

8. Preheat your oven to 400 degrees F.

9. Bake pies for 15-20 minutes, until golden brown.

This is the second week for Summer Fest '09. Make sure you take a browse around the other participants. A Way to Garden, Matt Bites, White on Rice Couple, and Steamy Kitchen, among others are leading the way. Make sure to share your own Summer Fest experiences here, there, and everywhere.

A Perfect First Date

2009-08-02T15:59:00.000-06:00

Do you remember when you were 16 and you finally got that guy you loved FOREVER to notice you and suddenly you were agreeing to go to the movies, without either of your parents driving you? The excitement, the knots in your stomach, the agony over what exactly to wear? And then a zit that appeared on your face the night before.

Or what about the first time your mother-in-law came over for dinner? The fretting over the right menu, timing your dishes so that nothing was cold, and obsessing over whether the house was just clean enough? And then the dog upturns a plant and you have dirt everywhere.

Now, imagine that you've invited over two major foodies and fantastic writers. Oh yeah, and they're bloggers too and you know that they're going to write about and photograph what you made for dinner. Nope, no pressure there.Friday night we hosted Julie and her gang from Dinner with from Dinner with Julie and Aimée and her family from Under the High Chair. Seriously, no pressure whatsoever.

The Menu:

Watermelon and Jicama Sticks with Chili Salt

Hubby' Famous Arkison Burgers

Grilled Avocado and Corn Salad with Smoky Caesar Dressing

Buffalo Hot Dogs

Grilled Peaches with Sour Cream Ice Cream

Cherry Hand Pies

It seemed like a pretty stress free menu. Or so I thought.

Since Julie did such a good job of summarizing our evening together - although she forgot the part where Danny, Aimée's husband took out Willem, Julie and Mike's son - I thought I would highlight the prep. The nerve-wracking everything going wrong prep for when two major foodie bloggers stop by for Friday night dinner.

Let's start with dessert, because that's what I worked on first. I lucked into some sour cherries at the market last week, so pie was definitely called for. The Monster and I tucked into pitting the cherries while Smilosaurus had her last official morning nap. Sour cherries are ridiculously easy to pit, no tool required. We just put our thumbs on either side of the pit and pulled the cherry apart. Well, that's what I did. The Monster apparently would start by biting off half the cherry, then picking out the pit. And, ever helpful, she would put both halves of the cherry in the bowl. So, in case I forgot to mention it on Friday night, the cherry pie had a little something extra in it.

Then there was the ice cream. Sour Cream Ice Cream. I was brave and the three of us girls went off to get our groceries. Sour cream? Check. Half and half? Check. Heavy cream? Check. Frozen ice cream canister? Check. Blender? Check?

Coordination and space in the fridge? Uh, no. I dropped the blender on the floor as I was trying to fit it in between a case of beers and some herbs. It went everywhere! In fact, looking at that picture I realize that I still need to clean the sideboard.

The dogs had a field day cleaning the floor and The Monster cried for a half hour straight. Nothing but tears, nay, wailing, over spilled ice cream. Thankfully Hubby came home in the middle of her crying so I could run out and buy more sour cream while she cried herself to sleep.
I also ran out to the market while the girls slept to pick up the corn, avocado, lettuce, beef, and the rest of our groceries for the week. While unpacking I realized that of everything I picked up I forgot to buy peaches. So, no grilled peaches for dessert. Sigh.

Instead I set to making the pies and getting everything else ready. I had my pate brisee cold in the fridge. It rolled out wonderfully and I made my pies. Then I went outside to get the yard a little bit in order. And promptly forgot about the first tray of pies. I saved them from complete destruction. And Julie even said she loved the idea of the juices oozing out of their pastry hold. I still scolded her for taking a picture of it. We just picked the really crispy bits off the edges.

Finally, and this was by no means a disaster, I ran out of ketchup. No ketchup is not cause for alarm, but I am firmly in the camp that burgers need ketchup. I was also anticipating toddler meltdown if their was no ketchup for the hot dogs. Just as I prepared to call my neighbour who is stocked for the war (I call her my emergency pantry) I remembered a bottle of homemade ketchup in the cold storage. And the reviews were so positive - except from my kid - that I might consider the effort again.

All was not horrible. Indeed, some things went ridiculously well. I made the chili salt for the watermelon and jicama sticks with my secret stash of dried chili from Baja. I simple threw a handful of chili in a non-reactive frying pan with a clove of garlic. Let it heat up until I could really smell the chili heat. Then I blitzed the whole thing in a food processor with a little less than a cup of kosher salt. I think we all preferred it with the watermelon, and I'm pretty sure it would be good on mango too. Hubby and I thought that maybe the leftover salt would be good on some grilled chicken, but not too much.

Then there were the burgers. Oh, the burgers. These are the spec-i-al-ity of my Hubby, Morgan. I once made the mistake of raving over a burger in a seaside shack in Digby, Nova Scotia as the best burger I ever had. I swear that if I hadn't recanted the statement right then and there we never would have married.

There's nothing special to the burgers. Just good quality ground beef, lean ground beef. Don't try to be healthy and by extra lean, your burgers will be dry. Lately we've been making them from Hoven Farms beef. Very flavourful. So take your beef and form it into a patty, preferably a large patty. Do not season the beef, don't add eggs or bread crumbs. This is pure beef. Now you know why I only served a green salad on the side.

After a liberal dosing in CattleBoyz BBQ Sauce he cooks them slowly on the grill. They stay juicy, they get a great crust, and they are perfection. Meaty, so juicy they drip off your wrists perfection.

So the floor was still sticky, the lawn never got mowed, and I highly doubt I made The Monster's bed after her nap. Oh, and I did indeed have a brand new zit to greet our guests. None of that really matters if everyone is well fed and the company good.

The night was really as good as it gets when you've got 6 tired adults (long drives, gout, sleepless nights, and working too much) and 5 kids under the age of 4 to keep track of. Note to self: build gates for the fence. We photographed our food more than our kids, we chatted and gossiped about other sites we visit, compared horrible neighbours, and we lubricated everything with Prosecco, Moscato, and beer. It would have been lovely to sit leisurely around the firepit and actually have some girl talk among us bloggers, but sadly the Hubby's wanted our help with the kids. I think Julie and I might have to plan a weekend in Montreal, sans kids, to get that!

Make sure you check our Julie's review of the evening (including the recipe for the sour cream ice cream, and keep an eye on Under the High Chair for all of Aimée's vacation reports. And stay tuned here this week, I will actually share with you the recipe for Cherry Hand Pies.

Taste Adventure - Mallow

2009-07-30T21:33:00.000-06:00

We've been heading down the the Southland Natural Area for our weekly CSA pick-ups for a few weeks now (but not this one because Jonathan's truck broke down). Last week was all about green. With Hubby out of town and a family trip to Edmonton for a baby shower it was a challenge to actually eat all those greens. So I was a bit thankful, honestly, that we got a break this week. It gave me more time to take advantage of all that food. It gave me a chance try something new with this herb called mallow.

The mallow was the first thing the girls grabbed out of our basket, right in the parking lot of the off leash park. While we chatted with an old friend they kept dipping into the bag and pulling out those broad and slightly jagged leaves. For a toddler who only recently decided salads were acceptable eating and a baby who spits out anything too flat I was rather surprised.

Following their lead I dug my hand in the basket to try it out. Hmm, if I hadn't actually felt it, I wouldn't have been I was eating anything at all. It has such a mild, fresh flavour. Kind of like dumbed-down parsley.

Considering the flavour, the most appropriate use of the mallow seemed to me to either include it as salad greens or make tabbouleh. Botanical sites suggested that I make a tea to ease my tummy troubles. Yeah, that's not me. So I tried the salad, but I had enough salad greens and one can only eat so many salads in a week. Tabbouleh it was.

And damn, what a fine idea that was. It was the freshest, cleanest tasting tabbouleh I've ever made. The girls devoured it at dinner and I had way more interesting leftovers to take to the office.

It wasn't exactly a traditional tabbouleh. I prefer my tabbouleh with quinoa instead of bulger. This time I tried a red quinoa. And I added a touch of mint to boost the freshness flavour. I was tempted to throw some feta in as well. Feta makes everything taste better in this house. Next time I might at least use it for garnish.

No CSA or backyard stash of mallow? Substitute another cup of parsley and you will still have a great salad. And you could use regular quinoa if you prefer.

Mallow and Red Quinoa Tabbouleh

(serves 4 as a side or 2 for lunch)

1 cup red quinoa

2 cups loosely packed mallow

1 cup loosely packed parsley

1 cup loosely packed mint

2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

1 pint cherry tomatoes, quartered

2 salad cucumbers or a third of an english cucumber, cut into 1/4 inch dice

2 lemons

Olive oil

1. Simmer the quinoa with 2 cups water over medium heat until the water is absorbed and the quinoa splits and parts of it look like teeny tiny calamari.

2. While the quinoa is cooking finely chop all the herbs. Zest one lemon and juice both lemons.

3. When the quinoa is cooked toss together all the ingredients with a generous splash of olive oil. Season and serve warm, cold, or at room temperature.

A Business Idea

2009-07-27T21:48:00.000-06:00

My brother and his wife, and numerous friends of mine are fantastic with their kids' birthday cakes. I default to cupcakes, but these folks are producing cars, trains, pirate ships, teapots, and yes, a box of crayons. Yes, I am jealous.

So my new business idea - feel free to steal it as long as you promise to give me royalties for life - is a bakery that specializes in kids' cakes. This isn't Ace of Cakes perfection. This is stayed-up-til-midnight-dotting-buttercream-on-cake-mix love. Someone should be baking and selling cakes that look like mom and dad made them the night before, so mom and dad can pass them off as homemade - to their kids and their friends.

Again, all I ask for is royalties.

The above cake was another homemade masterpiece by my brother and sister-in-law, in celebration of this little blue eyed wonder.

Brought to You by the Colour Green

2009-07-22T23:17:00.000-06:00

That big ol' mess of greens is sitting on our pretty, suburban lawn. Yay for grass. Yeah, I know, so not environmental to have a miniature golf course surrounding our house. But it is fantastic to have the girls run around in bare feet and simply roll around in the lushness of fresh sod. And it isn't dirt. Thank frikken' gawd, it isn't dirt.

Tonight was another hot one on the string of summer we're finally getting. After grilled pork tenderloin, ice cream cones, and kite flying at friends', we headed out to pick up our veggies from the farmer. That's how The Monster now refers to our weekly CSA pick-up.

This week was was definitely brought to us by the colour green. Mesclun, head lettuce, swiss chard, stir fry greens (mustard, radish, and turnip greens), something that looks like the skinnier sister of baby bok choy , and something new to me, mallow. I see some salads, stir fries, and perhaps some tabbouleh in our future.

By the end of this week we are going to be superheroes!

Reminders

2009-07-19T16:18:00.000-06:00

This was a weekend of reminders. Reminders that we have some damn good friends in our lives, reminders that there is indeed such a thing as summer, and reminders of what a farmers market can be.

We've been in Calgary for almost 6 years now, after living in Edmonton for most of my life (university and grad school being the exception). We've made ourselves a very nice life here, one we have no intention of leaving (are you listening, Grandma and Baba?). But sometimes it is just necessary to connect with loves from the old life in Edmonton. Sure, we go up there far more frequently than we would probably like, but we spend all our time driving between family that we never get to spend time with our old friends. So even though they had to stay in a hotel because of our renovations, some old friends came down for the weekend, just to hang out.

And hang out we did. The four kids ran around with hoses and jumped on the beds while my girlfriend and I nursed gin and tonics. Yes, we are that kind of a mom. We chatted non-stop and it felt like the days when we used to sit on the porch of our old place and watch the world go by. Except now the world was full of screaming toddlers instead of drunk university students. So really, not that different.

Yesterday we drove South to Millarville to the farmers' market. We've been going to the Calgary Farmers' Market so long that I really had forgotten what a true farmers market can be - actual farmers selling from a table in front of an open truck. It truly was a shock to my system after nearly 6 years at the Currie Barracks.

So much is being said about the Calgary Farmers' Market. Honestly, I'm staying out of the fray. We do enjoy going there on Sunday mornings, and do buy most of our groceries from there. I talk to the regular vendors that I shop from, catching up on their gossip and getting the latest from the fields. And I'll be honest, we spend a lot of time at the bouncy castle - my kids are the ones hogging it and being so damn cute that all other parents stop to watch (well, that's the way it seems to me). As I've gone from daughter to student to adult to mom and seen the evolution of my market goings the Calgary Farmers Market seemingly works just fine.

Then I went to Millarville yesterday and my comfort all got blown away. Seeing those trucks and the dirty hands counting out my change reminded me of all that is good about the market. The direct farm to consumer relationship, the open air, and even the crowds fighting for samples of something new and interesting. I've been treating our weekly market trips as a good family outing, but also like only a bit more than a trip to a really friendly supermarket.

I've decided that for the rest of the summer I'm going to visit more markets, more parking lots filled with trucks, tables, and farmers. I'm going to see what we can discover and what new people we can meet. And I'm taking you along.

It's summer, let's eat.