Simmered Tofu with Pork

Our eating habits have done another 180 in the past few months. Happily, we're back to eating more local foods.

Early this year I wrote about the challenges of shopping and cooking on a budget. While I learned a lot during that time, and cooked some tasty meals, our financial situation has changed again. J got a full-time, permanent job! And it pays really well, too. So now we can afford to eat out once in a while, pick up a few things at Planet Organic, and shop at the farmers' market.

Happily, this change coincided with the downtown farmers' market opening up in City Hall. It's been glorious to return to the market every week. We usually treat ourselves to a chunk of Smoky Lake goat cheese, some vegetables like peppers and cucumbers from Doef's Greenhouses, fresh eggs if we can find them, and maybe even some meat.

We both craved meat a lot through the fall and winter. We decided not to buy meat that wasn't locally and humanely raised, and we couldn't afford that good stuff. So the first biteful of local ground pork sure tasted amazing.

It was pork from a business called Serben Free Range, newly open at the market. They raise pigs, lambs, cows, turkeys and chickens near Smoky Lake, northeast of Edmonton (they're also at many other area farmers' markets - see their website for details).

J and I had both forgotten how delicious farm-raised pork tastes. It has a deep, rich flavour, nothing like the pale "other white meat" you see in grocery stores.

Here's one of my favourite ways to use pork - either ground or sliced. This recipe is adapted from an amazing cookbook called Seductions of Rice. It's one of several travel-anthropology-food books by cookbook-writing team Naomi Alford and Jeffrey Duguid. This is the only one I own, but they all look fantastic.

This dish convinced me how good it can be. It may look like sludge, but the whole things turns creamy and unctious, melding with the earthy saltiness of the soy sauce, the kick of fresh ginger and garlic, and the flavourful pork. This is a simple meal that's good every time. You can make it as spicy as you like with the chile paste or pepper flakes.

When I made this dish last week I used Irvings’ Farms ground pork – Serben didn’t have any on Saturday. It was just as good. For vegetarians, you can also make it without the pork.

We still treat meat as something special, and we usually only eat it once or twice a week, and often not as the meal’s main ingredient. It still satisfies our craving.

As for the market, I can’t wait to visit this weekend when it’s back outside on 104 street!

Simmered tofu with pork

adapted from Seductions of Rice by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid

2 tablespoons vegetable oil
Several green onions, cut into 1-inch lengths
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 pound ground or thinly sliced pork (either one is great, but I think I prefer ground because then you get some in every bite)
1-inch piece ginger, minced
1 to 2 tablespoons hot chile paste or 1 to 2 teaspoons red pepper flakes
3 tablespoons soy sauce
About 1 pound fresh (soft) tofu (I usually use firm silken tofu)
1/2 cup chicken or vegetable stock
salt to taste
1 tablespoon cornstarch dissolved in 1 tablespoon water

Heat a wok over the highest heat. Add the oil and swirl it around. When it’s hot, add the green onions and garlic. Stir-fry for 30 seconds, then toss in the pork, ginger, chile paste or flakes, and stir-fry for 30 seconds more, tossing and pressing the mixture against the sides of the wok. Add the soy sauce and continue to cook, scooping and stirring, for another 30 seconds.

Add the tofu and stock and bring to a vigorous boil, then lower the heat and simmer for 4 to 5 minutes.

Add the salt (Taste first - I usually don’t need any because I use Braggs soy sauce and it’s salty enough) and stir well, then taste again and adjust the seasonings if you wish. Stir the cornstarch mixture, then add to the wok, raise the heat, and stir-fry for about 20 seconds more, until the sauce thickens and becomes clear.

You can turn it out into a serving bowl to serve, or just scoop from the wok. Serve over rice.

Turkey Tetrazzini

I grew up in a home with a great love of food. But my parents approached food and cooking with completely different attitudes.

In our house, my Mom stayed home to look after my sister and me, while my Dad worked full-time. So Mom cooked all the weeknight dinners, and Dad cooked on the weekends, including all the big family meals.

Mom often made casseroles (this was the 80s after all) and one-dish dinners. I found out much later that she made a point to cook one vegetarian supper every week. One of her favourite cookbook authors was Jane Brody, the ultimate 80s health guru, whose books include The Good Food Book - Living the High Carbohydrate Way (can you believe how much things have changed??).

 
Mom made sure we were eating healthful foods. We accompanied her on trips to the health food store where she ladled natural peanut butter into plastic containers. I remember snacks of GORP (Good Old Raisins and Peanuts) and ants on a log, and there were never chips or pop in our cupboards. I barely knew what Joe Louis and Passion Flakies were, besides seeing the occasional glimpse in my friends' lunches. But I never felt like I was missing out. She baked treats a lot, and we always had delicious homemade cakes on our birthdays.

My Dad's meals were nearly always the protein-starch-vegetable formula, though he was also a big salad guy. He loved meat, and he loved seafood even more. His food was simple but always delicious. He loved to barbeque, often year round, and in the summer there was always fresh shellfish like lobster and clams.

 
My Dad's cooking was all about pleasure. His primary concern was not health, but taste. He fried his fish in bacon fat because it tasted damn good. He liked mashed potatoes with lots of butter and milk, grilled onions and mushrooms, steamed swiss chard with a side of mayonnaise (which as a child I thought looked absolutely disgusting). I never really talked to him about it, but I think he tried to bring out the real tastes of foods. My Dad died more than six years ago, and I really wish we could have had more conversations about eating and cooking.

I loved the meals both my parents made, and I realize that I've incorporated bits and pieces of both their styles into the way I cook today. I'm definitely interested in cooking for health, and in the benefits of vegetarianism. When I plan our daily meals I am conscious of making sure we have enough vegetables and fibre. I'm not a big casserole person, but even when I'm cooking with meat I gravitate towards quick, one-dish meals.

But I think my real love of cooking comes directly from my Dad. My Mom loves and appreciate food, but I know cooking isn't always her favourite thing to do (maybe because she was the one churning out reliable weeknight meals for years!). I love experimenting with new flavours, and I don't mind spending a long time in the kitchen to make a fabulous meal.

 
Mom always had a stable of meals in rotation on our dining room table. It's a smart idea - I'm sure I'll be the same way when I have kids. Since we're still in our freewheeling childless days, J and I often try a new recipe every night of the week. But I would love to eventually have about 25 recipes that I know and love, that we can make quickly and easily for weeknight suppers.

Lately I have been fondly remembering these weeknight meals from my childhood. I think it's because Mom made our favourite things over and over, imprinting their delicious flavours on my memory. Creamy baked macaroni and cheese, Italian fish casserole with noodles and tomatoes, shepherd's pie with a crispy cheese topping ... I think we all have these childhood food memories. The food might have been simple, plain or maybe even mediocre, but it's the memories that make it special. I remember the casserole dishes she always used for certain foods, and taking the leftovers for lunch in little plastic thermoses that kept it warm until noon.

 
I think my Mom's food actually tasted good, though. I don't think I've elevated it in my memory to undeserved status. Which is why I want to start recreating some of those meals in my own kitchen. The first one was Turkey Tetrazzini, an Italian-esque supper she made many times, often with leftover turkey or chicken. It's an easy meal that comes together very quickly if you're using leftovers, and you can adapt it in any number of ways. We used delicious rice pasta we brought back from Italy and leftover turkey from our belated holiday meal with J's parents back in January. I know these photos don’t make it look like the most appetizing dish, but I promise it tastes good!

I was curious where the name Tetrazzini came from. It sounds vaguely like a kind of noodle, but the casserole is made with spaghetti. It turns out this is a completely American dish, invented either in San Francisco or New York and named after an Italian opera star named Luisa Tetrazzini. Oh well. It doesn't have to be authentic to be delicious!

 
Turkey Tetrazzini

Adapted from Jane Brody’s Good Food Book

I was inspired by the wikipedia article, which says it's traditional to use almonds in this dish. My mother never did, but they added a nice flavour and texture element. You could also add leftover cooked vegetables such as broccoli, peas, or green beans.

½ pound spaghetti
½ pound mushrooms, sliced (about 3 cups)
I Tb. butter or margarine
2 Tb. Flour
½ tsp. salt
½ tsp. freshly ground black pepper
2 cups milk, cow's or unsweetened soy
2 tsp. soy sauce
½ cup shredded Swiss or Cheddar cheese (optional)  
1 green pepper, seeded & diced
4 or 5 sliced scallions
1/2 cup sliced almonds
2 cups cooked turkey (about ½ pound), cut into small cubes
¼ cup grated Parmesan

Cook the spaghetti in salted, boiling water until al dente and drain well.

In a large, heavy saucepan over medium heat, sauté the mushrooms in the butter, stirring them often, until they are just tender.

Stir in the flour, salt and pepper, coating the mushrooms. Gradually add the milk, stirring constantly. Add the soy sauce, and simmer the sauce, stirring it, until it has thickened somewhat.

Add the Swiss or Cheddar, green pepper, and scallions to the sauce, and mix the ingredients well. Stir in the almonds, turkey and spaghetti, combining well. Pour the mixture into a greased 2-quart shallow casserole or baking dish. Sprinkle the top of the casserole with the Parmesan.

Bake the casserole, uncovered, in a preheated 350º oven for about 20 minutes or until it is heated through. Raise the heat to 450 and cook for another 5 to 10 minutes, or until cheese on top is browned.

Spring Entertaining: Olive and Pistachio Tartine

After a long entertaining dry spell, we decided it was finally time to clean up the place and have some people over for supper. I think it was the lovely spring weather that put us in the mood. We love to entertain, but when we're super busy we kind of forget about it. We forget how much fun it is to plan a simple menu, cook up some delicious food, and share it with friends.

In my ever-so-lucky job at CBC radio, I get the chance to test-drive lots of cookbooks. We took some inspiration for our two recent soirees from one I received recently and another I reviewed last fall: Giada At Home by Giada de Laurentiis, and French Taste by Laura Calder.

I've never used a cookbook by Giada, though I've watched her show a few times on the Food Network and mostly been impressed by the size of her cleavage. But this cookbook is good. Simple recipes and a nice style. A few too many family photos for my taste, though.

Laura Calder's French Taste is fast becoming one of our favourite cookbooks. I loved this when I reviewed it, and we're still loving it. Confession: I never used to like Laura when I watched her show. She seemed kind of uppity. But when I interviewed her she was the sweetest thing, and I quickly became converted. I love that this book has little essays on the importance of shopping well, of eating with friends, and other civilized things. She's a charmer, and her recipes are great too. She brings a chic elegance to French food that has nothing stuffy or staid about it.

We made:

Pea Pesto from Giada

Olive and Pistachio Tartine from Laura

 
Warm Roasted Potato Salad from Laura

 
Sesame Soy Avocado from Laura

 
Prosciutto-wrapped dates stuffed with goat cheese from Giada (these were good but sooo rich)

 
Pineapple Upside Down Cake from Nigella Express (another great
book)

 
Our cookbook collection has probably doubled in the past year and a half (through CBC and my own buying), and now I find myself with books on the shelf that I've barely used. This week I'm beginning our menu planning more vigorously, and I'm going to try to use some of the books I don't know very well. Up next: Michael Smith's Chef at Home, Nigella Express, and We Eat Together by Julianna Mimande and Gabe Wong.

Olive and Pistachio Tartine
Adapted from French Food at Home by Laura Calder

This is is the easiest thing in the world but so satisfying, and it was one of the most popular things on the table the night we made it. I always forget how much I like olives and this is a great way to remind yourself.

All you do is take about a cup of black or kalamata olives, pit them (or do the smart thing and buy them pitted), chop them up into small pieces, and mix them with a few tablespoons olive oil, a few teaspoons of chopped thyme, zest from about half a lemon and a little lemon juice to taste. Season with ground black pepper, and that’s it! Spread onto rounds of crisped baguette and sprinkle with chopped pistachios – the combination is so perfect. This is basically a very simple version of olive tapenade, and if you wanted a smoother mixture you could easily blitz it through a food processor or crush it in a mortar and pestle. Really, you could season olives any number of ways and they would be delicious, so experiment and see what tastes good.

Hallowe’en Pasta

I know Hallowe’en is over, but kids are still eating candy all over town, so I figure this post is still valid.

We're not really Hallowe'en people. In fact, for the past few years we haven’t bothered with it at all. I'm sure once we have kids we'll get into it again, but for now we're fine with simply observing the holiday. The fact that we live in an apartment building with no trick-or-treaters also helps.

I was cooking this pasta recipe for a late supper last night and I realized it could qualify as Halowe'en-y. I thought of it as soon as I dumped the red kale into the boiling water and it turned the water a dark shade of green/purple, edging on black. Spooky. It's interesting that the kale (though sold as red kale at the market, it's actually purple when raw) turns dark green when it hits the water. Then, when I added the spaghetti to the same water it took on a very slight purplish hue. All mixed up it doesn't look too scary, but given that I wasn't planning a Hallowe'en recipe I thought it was quite the coincidence.

 

Doesn't it look a a little bit like a pot of something creepy bubbling away?

And as for the taste of the recipe? Very yummy. With tiny French green lentils and caramelized onions, the final dish is earthy and satisfying. Especially with a fine grating of Parmesan on top. It is rather labour-intensive to make, with each ingredient requiring its own cooking, but it's definitely worth it if you have the time. Next time I think I would make even more caramelized onions. Can you really have too many? The recipe also calls for short pasta, which may work better than spaghetti because it would be easier to mix together, and match better with the chunky kale.

Just one more note, I found this recipe on epicurious when I was looking for something to make with the big bunch of kale. I really like how you can search for almost anything on that site, and it often yields good results.

By the spoonful

I’ve been visiting the great blog 101 Cookbooks a lot lately. It’s written by Heidi Swanson, author of the cookbook Super Natural Cooking. Her blog is full of recipes, most of which are made with whole, natural foods. I’ve been searching her recipe index for things I can make on my limited diet, and one of the ones I squirelled away was a brown rice and asparagus dish.

To be honest, it didn’t sound that exciting – a mix of brown rice, chickpeas and asparagus with toasted almonds and a tahini dressing. Healthful, but maybe not out of this world. I shouldn’t have judged it. Being on this diet is quickly reminding me that sometimes it’s the simplest combinations of foods that are the most delicious.

This dish blew me out of the water. It’s so flavourful that I gobbled it up for supper, lunch and breakfast. And as soon as I scraped the container clean I started craving more.

The rice mixture is good, but what takes this over the top is the phenomenal dressing. I kind of want to email Heidi to personally thank her for this dressing. It’s actually more of a sauce/dressing – a bit too heavy for a green salad but perfect for something with rice or beans or vegetables. This is the kind of dressing I want to eat by the spoonful. The kind I want to keep a jar of in the fridge at all times to dress up bland foods. I seriously can’t think of much it wouldn’t taste good with.

And the best part? Four ingredients, people! It just goes to show that simple and healthy is sometimes the best thing. But of course I have to tell myself that, since I can’t eat sugar or chocolate for another two weeks.

You can find the recipe here – when I made the dressing I didn’t have any lemons so I subbed in lime juice and lime zest. Maybe that’s what made it so good?? I’m sure it would be great with lemon too.

The good things I have been eating

 
I’ve been getting a lot of strange food cravings lately.

A tuna sandwich.

A carrot muffin.

French fries.

These are intense cravings that hit me suddenly in the middle of the day. No, I’m not pregnant (friends, do you really think I would let you know via my blog? Come on). I’m craving these things because I can’t eat them right now.

(To be technical, I could eat the sandwich and the muffin. It would just take some work.)

I’m on my second week of a five-week cleanse diet. I’m doing it to see if I have any food intolerances that are affecting my health, and in particular, my migraine headaches. The diet was recommended by a naturopath I visited, and there are a myriad number of things I am not supposed to eat. Rather than list all of them, let’s concentrate on the good things I have been eating: lots of fruits and vegetables, grains, beans, almond butter, fish …

I’m aware that looks like a lot of asparagus for one person – but believe me, you have to eat a lot of vegetables to feel full.  

The big plus to this diet (besides the hopeful health benefits) is that I am eating a lot of foods that I haven’t had in months because of our eat-local habits. Suddenly, bananas, avocados and mushrooms are the most wonderful foods in the world! This really helps to make the diet seem less monotonous.

But I have been sticking local with a lot of foods: Edgar Farms asparagus, chicken, cucumber, greens, wild trout, apples, rhubarb, and radishes.

I’m living on my own for the summer while my husband is going to music festivals and programs back East, so that combined with this new diet has really changed my eating habits. It’s much more of an effort to actually make supper for myself when I get home from work, so I try to keep it simple. A lot of steamed or sauteed veggies with beans and rice. To add flavour, the little container of flaky Maldon sea salt that I picked up at the St. Lawrence Market in Toronto (hopefully more on that place still to come!) has been my saviour. It is delicious sprinkled over everything.

I wanted to share with you two dishes I ate today. They seem to me like perfect foods for spring – or nearly summer.

Quinoa with chickpeas and avocado

I cooked a big pot of quinoa the other night that I figured I could turn into various meals, and this one is great. All you do is mix some cooked quinoa with cooked chickpeas, slice some avocado over the top, sprinkle on as much lime juice as you want, and season with salt and pepper. The result is an earthy mixture of toothsome and creamy with just a hint of tart juice. I love it.

Christmas Salad for Spring

I bought a bunch of radishes at the downtown market last week from Sundog Organics, just because they looked so pretty. But I haven’t radishes for years, and I find them too spicy to crunch on raw. So I turned to the internet … and it tossed up a couple of radish salad recipes that I derived this one from.

Slice a small bunch of radishes and about half a cucumber very thinly. Chop up about 1/4 cup of cilantro. Mix all together and add lime juice, salt and pepper to taste.

I’m surprised by how much I like this salad – I thought the lime juice might make it too sour, but it actually softens the spiciness of the radishes and creates a fresh, beautiful flavour. I think this would be really good with some fresh or dried chiles as well.

P.S. – I think I’ll be a bit late with my photo set this week because later today I’m taking my computer to get fixed. It’s been acting weird in lots of ways for a long time and something must be done. So if you don’t see me here for a few days, that’s why. Happy weekend! 

Homemade in Toronto: Turos Teszta

 

I was also lucky enough to have Eva, Emily’s girlfriend, cook me supper while I was staying with them. She also made me a Hungarian recipe: Turos Teszta, or as Eva translates it, Cheesy Noodles.

(In case you are wondering, Eva is Hungarian … these dishes didn’t just fall randomly from the sky.)

Turos Teszta is one of the easiest suppers to make ever, and also one of the most delicious. Also one of the most fattening. There, I said it.

It’s basically an excuse for a meal that’s sort of a combination of breakfast and supper and is prime comfort food: a blend of noodles, bacon and cheese.

You could dress up this dish in lots of ways, and as I ate it my mind started wandering to fresh herbs and sun-dried tomatoes and green onions. But really, it’s perfect in all its bare simplicity too.

You start by cutting up a whole bunch of bacon into small pieces. I’m not sure how much exactly. I’d guess about a half a package. Or maybe a whole package, what the hell.

Fry the bacon in a big frying pan. While it’s frying, put a pot of water on to boil for the noodles. Then cut up your cheese. What’s used here is pressed cottage cheese, also called Turo. It tastes like cottage cheese – very mild – but has a consistency more like feta. I think feta could also work, but it would make it much saltier.

Add the noodles to the water once it’s boiled. The noodles we used were thin, flat egg noodles. I don’t know if they’re particularly Hungarian or not, but I really think any kind of egg noodle or Italian-type noodle would do here. A chunky shape like rottini or shells might work well.

Fry the bacon until it’s dark and crisp. Drain the noodles and put them in a big bowl. Add the bacon and the cheese and mix well. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Dig in!

Bison Turnip Pot Pie

It doesn’t look very fancy. The name isn’t very sophisticated. But this is one of the best things I have made. Ever.

If I wasn’t so full from brunch right now,  just the thought of this would make me want some, right now.

With the cold weather still hanging on here in Alberta, I turned to our Deborah Madison book for some inspiration about what to do with all the root vegetables. Root vegetables are a steady part of our diet, but it can be tough coming up with new ways to cook them.

 
I’ve also been looking for new recipes for ground meat. It’s one of the cheapest ways to buy meat at the farmers’ market, so we usually pick up a couple of packages every week.

With this recipe, I managed to combine both in one delicious, dough-topped package. I started with Deborah’s recipe for Braised Turnips with Thyme, and decided to add a pie crust lid. I had never made a pot pie before, never even considered making one, but I was excited. Deborah says that you can basically take any stew and turn it into a pot pie. Why hadn’t I thought of that?

We had some ground bison sitting in the fridge that we needed to use up, so I just threw it in with the turnips.

The result was creamy and flavourful, full of turnips and bison in a delicious sauce with a yummy crust. This may sound like an odd combination for a pot pie, and I realize that ground meat isn’t really standard for one either. But trust me, this works. I’m sure it would be great with beef too.

Since it was my first pot pie, I didn’t take the care to make sure the crust went all the way to the edges of the casserole dish, so the stew leaked out a little and bubbled out onto the top of the crust. No big deal, but next time I’ll be sure to seal it tightly.

For a recipe full of simple ingredients, this dish was packed with flavour and had a wonderful homey, cozy winter feel. Perfect for the beginning of Spring in Edmonton!

Turnip Bison Pot Pie

Adapted from Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone by Deborah Madison

1/2 pound to 1 pound ground bison or beef (I used one pound because I wanted to use it up, but 1/2 pound would be enough, and I’m sure it would be great without meat as well)

2 pounds turnips or rutubagas
1 to 2 tablespoons butter
1 onion, finely diced
1 carrot cut into medium dice
4 thyme sprigs or 1/4 teaspoon dried
salt and pepper
2 teaspoons flour
2 tablespoons chopped parsley
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1/4 cup cream or crème fraîche (you could probably use milk instead)

pie crust recipe (I honestly can’t remember if I used the galette dough recipe or pie crust recipe. Either way, any standard pie crust recipe will do.)

Brown the bison in a skillet until cooked most of the way. Remove to a plate.

If you’re using storage turnips, peel them thickly, cut them into sixths, and parboil in salted water for 1 minute. Parboil rutabagas for 3 minutes.

Melt the butter in a large pot or dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onion, garlic, rutabaga or turnips, carrot, and thyme. Season with 3/4 teaspoon of salt and sprinkle with the flour. Cover and cook over low heat for 4 minutes, then stir in 1 1/2 cups water and the parsley. Simmer, covered, until the turnips are tender, about 15 minutes. Taste for salt, season with pepper, add the mustard and cream, and simmer for two minutes more. Stir in the bison.

Take the pot off the heat and transfer stew to the dish you’ll be using for the pot pie. Allow the stew to come to room temperature. If you have time, you can leave it on a cooling rack, or you can put it in the fridge for about 30-45 minutes. This waiting part is kind of annoying, so if you can make the stew ahead of time I would do that.

Preheat the oven to 425. Roll out your dough and cut it to fit your baking dish. Make sure it goes all the way to the edges. Brush one side of the dough with beaten egg and set the dough egg-side down on the stew. Flute the edges as you would for a deep-dish pie. You can make decorations out of the dough scraps and fasten them to the dough with egg glaze. Brush the top with beaten egg. Bake at 425 for 12 minutes, then lower the heat to 350 and finish baking, about 35 minutes in all. 

Sunny Boy Flour

I first heard about Sunny Boy flour from Cheryl of Backseat Gourmet. Sunny Boy is a company in Camrose, Alberta that mills its own all-purpose and whole-wheat flour. It also makes the apparently-famous Sunny Boy cereal.

Since we decided to eat more locally, we’ve also been trying to eat mainly gluten-free, so at first I wasn’t too worried about finding local wheat flour. But lately I started thinking about it more. I thought I remembered seeing some bags of the flour at Planet Organic.

So on a recent trip there I picked some up. I was actually really excited about it. The thought of local flour was extremely enticing. I daydreamed about making pasta, layer cakes, biscuits … all with local flour. After reading The 100-Mile Diet, where authors James and Alisa spent seven months looking for a flour producer near their home in Vancouver, I felt all the more grateful.

As soon as I got home from Planet Organic I cut open the bag of flour and dumped two cups into a bowl. The flour wasn’t pure white, it was more of a pale tan colour. I took a whiff of the it. It smelled … different than other flours. Almost yeasty and briney. But maybe I was imagining things. I mixed the flour with a little sugar and a little salt, then cut in cubes of butter with a pastry cutter. I sprinkled cold water over the top until the dough came together in a ball, then stuck it in the fridge.

I went to work, and when I got home that night, there was a beautifully burnished leek and goat cheese galette coming out of the oven. Here is the delicious first product made with our Sunny Boy flour.

This is a Deborah Madison recipe that is absolutely brilliant. Although, to be honest, I think that you could stick any type of tasty filling into this deliciously buttery galette dough and it would result in a bang-up supper. I’ve made a butternut squash galette and a nectarine galette with the same dough, and ev  ery one is a smash hit. This combination of leeks and goat cheese, simmered with cream and white wine, is a winner. The leeks get very soft and tender and the cheese melts in your mouth.

I used Fairwinds Farm goat cheese – another local product that we just started eating. It is delicious – very soft, smooth and tangy. And I appreciate that it comes in little tubs rather than the plastic-wrapped logs that I’ve always bought goat cheese in. It’s much easier to store this way.

Leek and Goat Cheese Galette from
Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone by Deborah Madison

Galette Dough: see this recipe

for the filling:
6 large leeks, including inch of green
3 tbsp butter
1 tsp chopped thyme
1/2 cup dry white wine
1/2 cup crème fraîche or heavy cream
salt + pepper
1 egg, beaten
3 tbsp. chopped parsley
4 oz goat cheese, less or more to taste

1. Preheat oven to 400F. Thinly slice and wash the leeks. You should have about 6 cups.

2. Melt butter in medium skillet. Add leeks, thyme, and 1/2 cup water. Stew over medium heat, stirring frequently, until leeks are tender, about 12 minutes. Add wine and continue cooking until reduced; then add the crème and cook until it coats the leeks and little liquid remains. Season with salt and plenty of pepper. Let cool 10 minutes, then stir in all but 1 tbsp of the beaten egg and 2 tbsp of the parsley.

3. Roll the galette dough out to about 1/8 of an inch thick. You can either make one large galette or six small galettes. Spread leek mixture on top of rolled galette dough, leaving a 2 inch border around the edge. crumble the goat cheese on top, then fold the dough over the filling (fold it over a little or a lot, up to you). Brush with reserved egg and bake until crust is browned, 25-30 minutes. Garnish with remaining parsley.

Roasted Squash Salad

I just finished a delicious supper.

It’s rare that I blog about things I’ve just eaten. Usually I’m too lazy, or too busy, and the meals get filed into my brain to use in future posts.

But tonight, despite the dirty dishes on the counter, I am relaxed. I can also sleep in tomorrow. And, I want to write about how this meal tasted before I forget.

I often buy squash at the Strathcona County Farmers’ Market from August Organics, a stall on the East side of the market, closest to the front doors. There is usually a big pile of green and orange squash on one corner of the stand, with an info sheet about which squash is which, and how they all taste. I can’t always tell from the sheet which one I’m holding, so I have to ask one of the kind people who work there. A few times I’ve been helped by an adorably precocious boy.

Last weekend I bought quite an ugly-looking specimen, but I was told that it was dry and would be good for roasting. Roasting is one of my favourite ways to make squash, because it brings out the natural sweetness.

I remembered reading something on a food blog recently about a squash salad, so I did an online search and came up with Ina Garten’s recipe for roasted squash salad with warm cider vinaigrette.

The only annoying part of this recipe was peeling and scooping out the squash. The peel was tough and the seeds and membranes were hanging on for dear life.

Tonight I was dining alone. J had a long day and was already asleep in bed when I started the recipe (quite late, I must admit. I had a long day myself). So once the squash was done roasting, I made myself a one-plate serving with the greens, squash, raisins and cheese. When I spooned on the warm dressing, the aroma of parmesan drifted up to my nose. When I took a bite, the sweetness of the squash balanced perfectly with the sharpness of the parmesan cheese, and I tasted the tanginess of the cider vinaigrette.

I adapted the recipe quite a bit because of ingredients I didn’t have, and it still turned out great. I used mixed greens from the market instead of arugula, and raisins instead of cranberries. I left out the walnuts and the shallots entirely.

My only complaint was that the dressing had too much olive oil, since the vinegar mixture isn’t as strong as plain vinegar. I would add only a quarter cup next time.

I am looking forward to lunch tomorrow.

Roasted Squash Salad with Warm Cider Vinaigrette

Adapted from Ina Garten’s Barefoot Contessa Back to Basics

One squash (butternut or any other dry variety), about 1.5 to 2 pounds, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
1 tablespoon maple syrup
olive oil
salt and pepper
3 tablespoons dried cranberries or raisins
3/4 cup apple cider or apple juice
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
2 tablespoons minced shallots (optional)
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
arugula or other salad greens
1/2 cup toasted walnut halves
3/4 cup grated parmesan cheese

Toss the squash with the maple syrup, 2 tablespoons of the olive oil, salt and pepper. Put it in a roasting pan and roast for 20-25 minutes, until soft and browned in places. Stir once or twice during the roasting. Add the cranberries to the pan for the last five minutes (I didn’t do this, but it would probably be good).

While the squash is roasting, combine the apple cider, vinegar and shallots in a small saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Cook for 6 to 8 minutes, until the cider is reduced to about 1/4 cup.

Off the heat, whisk in the mustard, 1/4 cup olive oil, 1 teaspoon salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper.

If you are serving the entire salad immediately, place the arugula in a large salad bowl and add the roasted squash mixture, the walnuts, and the grated Parmesan. Spoon just enough vinaigrette over the salad to moisten, and toss well. Sprinkle with salt and pepper and serve immediately.

If you’d like to save some salad for leftovers, simply plate each portion individually. Start with the greens, add the squash, walnuts and parmesan, and spoon on the dressing.

Lobster in Winter

 
I have a fuzzy memory of sitting on my father’s lap when I was about four or five, eating tender morsels of lobster swimming in melted butter out of a little glass bowl.

Skip forward about ten years. In my teens, lobster didn’t really interest me. I think it was a texture thing. I thought it was too rubbery, not soft and flaky like fish. Sometimes my sister and I would pick the tips of the claws out of their shells and eat them. I now realize that this is probably the least desirable part of the entire lobster – it’s woody and flavourless. I really only saw lobster as a vehicle for melted garlic butter (oh, are we seeing a pattern here?).

I’m not sure what clicked for me a few years later. When I was 18, I suddenly realized that the rubbery stuff I had ignored was actually delicious. I went to Cuba that Christmas and ate spiny lobster, which was a bit different but also tasted marvellous.

One of my Dad’s best friends was a lobster fisherman named Kenny. Every year Kenny would give us about ten pounds of lobster, or maybe it was more. It was usually a lot of lobster, and it was free. In PEI, lobster is king, and everyone eats it, but getting it for free is pretty damn great.

The usual lobster dinner on PEI, served at lobster suppers in church halls all across the province, is a boiled lobster, served cold, with potato salad, coleslaw and a dinner roll. It’s rare that lobster is served hot, though I actually prefer it that way. My parents sometimes ate it cold with mayonnaise. I found this absolutely disgusting.

J’s family also loves lobster. They always eat it on Mother’s Day, and then again during the summer at least once or twice (there are two lobster seasons on PEI – one in May and one in August).

So when we moved out to land-locked Edmonton, I kind of thought I could kiss my lobster-eating days goodbye for a while, at least until my next summer trip home. I figured that even if I tried to get lobster here, it would never measure up and would just leave me disappointed.

So I was kind of surprised when J’s brother called us last weekend and said he and wife were going to pick up some lobster and come on over.

“Really? Lobster?” I thought. “But it’s January. And it’s Edmonton.”

Well, I was the one feeling foolish a few hours later, as we were all digging into delicious Nova Scotia lobster, shells flying and nutcrackers cracking. It turns out the Nova Scotia lobster season lasts all year. This catch was as good as any lobster I’ve had on PEI in recent memory, and an amazing treat during the winter. We sat around the table “mmm”-ing so much that it became a joke. 

But as much as we love the stuff, we didn’t want to just eat lobster for dinner, so J and I made a roast chicken. The evening turned into a drawn-out feast. I realize that eating Nova Scotia lobster doesn’t say much for our eat-local goals, but we were willing to make an exception. And we tried to even things out by cooking a local chicken with local potatoes, carrots and apples.

Lobster was the first course. Roast chicken came next, succulent and juicy, and the roasted vegetables and apples were caramelized and flavourful with chicken juice. This is the easiest and best way to roast a chicken that we have so far discovered. Everything cooks at the same time (we snuck the veggies back into the oven for a few minutes to get crispier while the chicken rested) and turns out beautifully.

(We bought red potatoes at the market that turned out to be a gorgeous pinky-purply shade inside…surprise!)

Finally, we gorged on chocolate cake (the rest of Claire’s birthday cake) and vanilla ice cream.

Far from home, far from the sea, it was a reminder of summer and beaches and salt water. Of good food cooked among friends. Of the way life should be. 

Roast Chicken with Vegetables
Adapted from Jamie’s Italy by Jamie Oliver

1 free-range chicken
olive oil
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
3 cloves of garlic
6 bay leaves
potatoes and carrots, or any other root vegetables
white wine
garlic
herbs
one or two apples, if you have any

Preheat the oven to 375. Rub the chicken with oil, season it with salt and pepper, and stuff the cavity with the garlic and bay leaves. 

Chop the potatoes into quarters and the carrots into rough chunks. Drizzle them with olive oil and put them into a large roasting pan. Place the chicken in the pan, breast side down, on top of the vegetables. Roast for 1 and a half hours. (Putting the chicken in upside down doesn’t make for as glorious a presentation as the other way around, but it makes the meat deliciously juicy because the fat from the back drips down through the meat.)

About halfway through roasting, add some cored and chopped apples, garlic, and any herbs you may have, such as sage, rosemary, or thyme, to the pan. Baste the chicken with some white wine, lemon juice, or water.

Remove the chicken from the pan when the juices run clear. If the vegetables aren’t quite tender enough, put them back into the oven while you carve the chicken.

Serves four hungry people. Even people who have already eaten lobster.

The Little Meat-Filled Kitchen

 

 
Things have changed around here recently.

The freezer is nearly full. Our weekly menu, written out on a white board hung on our fridge, looks decidedly different. More than one cookbook is in rotation. And sometimes, when I get home from work, I’m greeted at the door by the smell of roasting meat.

It’s taken me a long time to get around to writing this post. The changes in our food life have felt so monumental that I wasn’t sure how to express them here, in this space that is solely dedicated to that life. I started this blog for many reasons, but one was to document my cooking from the Deborah Madison book. When we decided to start cooking meat, that plan clearly was dropped. And I was scared. What about the little red kitchen? Could it still continue with as much purpose, as much integrity?

I quickly realized, though, that this blog is what I make it. Deborah Madison or no, it could still be fun and engaging, interesting and personal.

Then I started to get excited. I had loved going through Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone systematically, but I occasionally felt stifled, as though I couldn’t make what I really wanted and be spontaneous in the kitchen. Now I could cook recipes from other cookbooks! And from my favourite food blogs!

Our reason for the Big Change came when J was reading Barbara Kingsolver’s wonderful book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. I’ve read it as well, and she talks a lot about vegetarianism and whether it makes sense, especially in a local diet. It got J thinking (he’s always been more of a meat-eater than me anyway).

We decided to start cooking meat, and this quickly led to a decision to try to eat as much local food as we possibly can. We were already partly doing this, but by following VCFE so strictly, we constantly had to buy non-local ingredients, which sometimes bothered me.

Now the main ingredients in all of our meals come from the farmers’ market, and thus from farmers who live in Central and Northern Alberta.  It might not actually be the 100-mile diet, but I think it’s pretty close.

We are not rigid about this – at all. We still eat oil, sugar, flour, oats, tea, nuts, dried fruit, and a myriad of other things that are not local.  We will still buy convenience foods at the grocery store if we need them, or pick up a few onions if we are running low. But I think the important thing is the step we are taking.

We also both feel that this will make us better cooks. We’ve both wanted to be able to cook without recipes, to adapt, to make things up as we go along, but we haven’t done much of it. Now we can!  Now we go to the market and plan our menu as we buy our meats and vegetables.  We still look at recipes for ideas, and we still follow them a lot, but the freedom is there.

The other night J made a delicious roasted lamb loin with apples, garlic and wine. It was heavenly, and you wouldn’t believe how proud he was that he invented the whole thing himself. So get ready to hear more about his cooking adventures here too.

The first meat recipe I made by myself was the meatballs from the cover of the January Gourmet that I told you about a while ago. It was an ambitious start. The recipe isn’t hard, but it’s involved, and it took forEVer. Thawing, mixing, rolling, browning, simmering … so many ingredients and so many steps. But at the end of it I really felt like I had accomplished something, and we had four meals to save for weeks to come.

“Now I feel like a real housewife",” I said to J as I ladled the tomato sauce and meatballs into Ziploc freezer bags and carefully labelled them.  I was only half-kidding. There is something extremely satisfying about having a full freezer, as though I was Laura in Little House on the Prairie trying to get through the Long Winter. And it helped that the meatballs were delicious.

Don’t worry, I still love vegetables. A lot. And we plan on cutting down on our meat consumption in the summer, when there is a bigger variety of local veg and fruit to be had.

Also, next summer: It’s time to can! And dry things! And be a real pioneer woman. Stay tuned.