So I lied. I haven’t given you my cornbread recipe. And believe me, it’s worth giving.
But I can’t really take credit. It’s not my recipe. The one I make now is mostly attributed to the Moosewood Restaurant New Classics cookbook, with a little inspiration from Deborah Madison thrown in.
I started baking the Moosewood cornbread during my undergrad. I think it was because of a summer meal after my first year, when my friends Gavin and Phil came to visit me on P.E.I. They were at my house for supper and my sister Claire made vegetarian chilli and a huge platter of this cornbread. I fell in love with it. We ate outside in our backyard under the poplar trees. I remember my Dad telling Phil and Gavin stories about his younger days, when he drank lime ricky sandwiches.
(Lime Ricky is a kind of pop only made, to my knowledge, by the Seaman's bottling company on P.E.I. A Lime Ricky Sandwich, according to my Dad, was a shot of moonshine, a shot of lime ricky, and another shot of moonshine. I believe he drank these around the tender age of sixteen. By the time I was old enough to notice, he had long since switched to Captain Morgan on the rocks.)
I photocopied the recipe and started baking the cornbread myself when I got back to university later that year. I’ve been making it ever since. It became a hit with my roommates, particularly Rachael who actually started calling me Cornbread, a nickname that lasted right up until graduation (and possibly persists to this day).
So you see, this cornbread recipe comes with a lot of history attached. Treat it with respect. Make often, and enjoy unadorned, with butter and jam, or with a slice of aged cheddar cheese.
I’ve often meant to try a different cornbread recipe, or at least add some corn kernels, grated cheese, and/or diced green chiles to my basic recipe, as I’ve seen in so many other places. But I still haven’t gotten around to it. I guess that means this one is pretty darn good.
Using butter in the pan means it comes out golden-crisped and fragrant. A Deborah Madison trick!
2 Tablespoons butter
1 cup cornmeal
½ cup all-purpose flour
½ cup whole-wheat flour
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 eggs
¼ cup vegetable oil
2 to 4 tablespoons honey to taste
1 cup milk (soy works fine) or plain yogourt
Preheat the oven to 425. Put the butter in an 8-inch square baking pan and put the pan in the oven while it’s heating. Meanwhile, stir the dry ingredients together and make a well in the centre of the bowl. In another bowl, whisk together the wet ingredients. As soon as the oven is hot, remove the pan and brush the butter around the edges. Pour any excess into the wet ingredients. Quickly mix the wet and dry ingredients together, then pour the batter into the pan and bake in the middle of the oven until golden brown on top and beginning to pull away from the edges, about 25 minutes.
I’ve always loved brunch. It’s the perfect excuse to combine sweet and savoury foods in one meal. And for someone like me who can never choose between eggs and waffles when I go out for breakfast, this is wonderful. Brunch also seems to suggest an embarrassment of time, and the freedom to linger over a meal – one of my favourite things.
A few weeks ago J and I had some friends over for a potluck brunch. I decided to make cornbread and frittata. I’ve already shared my favourite cornbread recipe with you, but let me stress again how easy it is to make and how satisfying to eat. Leftovers are great for toasting with a little butter and jam.
Frittata is another dish that is easy to prepare and works well as breakfast, lunch or supper. It’s also a good way to clean out the bits of vegetables lingering in your fridge, since you can throw in almost anything you want. I, however, stayed faithful to Deborah Madison with her recipe for Frittata with Tomatoes and Feta.
As our friends arrived, I chopped tomatoes and scallions and watched the beautiful midday light stream in from our big windows. It was fun sharing a meal with people during the day, instead of the usual supper.
The frittata turned out great, and everything on the table was delicious. Without planning the menu at all, we ended up with a delightful assortment of dishes that all complemented each other in delicious ways. Maria’s champagne punch was a nice little kick-start to the afternoon. I couldn’t get enough of Meghan’s fruit salad, which included dragonfruit, papaya, and pomegranate. (I unfortunately didn’t get any pictures, but let me tell you that I never knew dragonfruit is kind of a greyish colour and filled with tiny black seeds, but doesn’t taste like much.) Susan’s beet and potato salad was a great addition to an otherwise breakfasty meal, and Denis’ quiche was rich and cheesy. To top it off we ate peach and raspberry crisp made by Jess. Decadent? No, not us.
For me, perhaps the most exciting part of the whole get-together was after everyone left and I discovered that Justin had left us the half-full jar of fig jam that he had brought as an hors-d’oeuvre with crackers and brie. I love figs, and that jam was fig heaven. Not only that, but the little jar it came in was just so darn cute!
(Yes, I realise I may sound crazy for getting so excited over jam. Just ask J. He’s been listening to me wax rhapsodic about it for two weeks. I finally finished it, though, and now I’m just looking
The only change I made to this recipe was to use 1 teaspoon dried oregano instead of the fresh marjoram. I don’t really like the taste of marjoram and I didn’t want to buy a whole package just for this recipe.
The only trouble I had was when it was time to take the frittata out of the pan. I was using our big (and beautiful!) cast-iron skillet, which has really high sides, so I couldn’t see how I would be able to get it out without it falling apart. Then J, ever the sensible one, suggested I just cut it in the pan with the spatula. Ah, yes. That’s why I have him around.
Serves 4 to 6
6 eggs
Salt and freshly milled pepper
1 bunch scallions, including an inch of the greens, finely sliced
1 garlic clove, minced
1/4 cup chopped parsley
1 Tablespoon chopped marjoram, plus extra for garnish
1 Tablespoon each butter and olive oil, or a mixture
4 Roma tomatoes, halved, seeded, and diced
2 ounces feta, thinly sliced
Beat the eggs with a few pinches of salt, then add the scallions, garlic, and herbs. Preheat the broiler.
Heat the butter and oil in an 8 or 10-inch skillet until foaming. Pour in the eggs, lower the heat, and distribute the tomatoes and cheese evenly over the top. Cook until the eggs are set, then slide the pan 4 to 6 inches under the broiler and brown the top. Instead of inverting the frittata, slide it onto a large platter, keeping the top side up. Garnish with additional marjoram.
FreshMountain air. A rushing river. Sunny fall days. A little town I’ve never seen. Soaking in a hot tub. Good food. And family to share it all with.
What more could you ask for on Thanksgiving?
J and I went to Jasper last weekend with his brother and his fiancée, Clément and Julia. It was only my second time seeing the Rockies and J’s first. They’re pretty damn impressive – quite a change from our home landscape of flat, red dirt and rolling ocean.
As usual, one of my primary concerns for the outing was, What are we going to eat? With this in mind I packed a few things for the car – apples, tortilla chips and some buffalo jerky. Yes, that’s right … buffalo jerky. When J was in Grande Prairie a few weeks ago singing with his choir, he was billeted with a family who has a buffalo farm. He got to see the buffalo, eat some fresh buffalo, and they gave him a HUGE package of buffalo jerky to take home with him.
I’m not the biggest fan of buffalo jerky, or jerky in general. I find it way too salty. So that means that we still have part of that package of jerky left, sitting wrapped in its brown paper on the top of our kitchen shelf. And we’ve been trying to foist it off on our houseguests for weeks. So we thought we’d see if Clément and Julia wanted any.
Clément decided to try some first thing after we got on the road … and Julia was not impressed. The smell of buffalo jerky at 9:30 in the morning was disgusting, she said. I have to admit, it has a very strong smell and kind of hits you in the nose.
We stopped for lunch in a little town called Hinton at a cafeteria-style diner called Lew’s. It reminded us all of a Charlottetown establishment, Sam’s. Burgers, chicken burgers, fish and chips, poutine, chicken fingers and fries … your classic diner fare. The meal was unfancy but satisfying.
(We later realised, in Jasper, that the restaurant is actually called L & W’s, not Lew’s. The ampersand looked a lot like a curling, capital E. We continued to call it Lew’s for old time’s sake.)
When you drive to Jasper, you get to the entrance of the national park before you get to the town. We stopped at MaligneCanyon to go hiking. The hike started at the very top of the canyon, and when you look down over the bridges, the rushing water is about 60 feet below. The rock walls are narrow and dramatic, lined with moss and lichen.
The further down we went, the wider the canyon got. And the colder and fresher the air felt. It reminded me of walking past the entrance to an underground parking garage in the summertime, and feeling the cool blast of air coming out. When we got to the bottom, we walked down to the river’s banks and stared up the rock wall to the trees towering against the sun, high, high above. I stuck my hands into the river and it was cold as ice.
It was only when we got near to the bottom of the canyon that we realised we had to turn around and go all the way back up to get back to the car. We had thought the path was a loop, but we were clearly wrong. I didn’t mind. It felt good to be out of the city and getting some exercise.
We drove into Jasper afterward to look for a hotel. It’s a cute little town with winding streets lined with gift shops and cafes. It veers toward kitsch but thankfully doesn’t quite make it. It still felt like a rustic sort of place where people from all over the world come to ski, hike, and drink lots of beer. We saw a few people walking around with huge backpacks with things like ukuleles strapped to them.
We ended up at Earl’s for supper after trying two other restaurants that didn’t look promising. Earl’s is a high-class chain restaurant out here on the Prairies. It was busy, but while we waited at the bar for a table we amused ourselves by trying to figure out what kinds of drinks the bartenders were making.
Our sushi appetizer was tasty, but there was too much rice and not enough shrimp filling. But my main dish, a roasted beet salad, was delicious. The beets were served on a bed of spinach with a sweet balsamic dressing. Scattered around them were pieces of juicy fresh figs, pine nuts, and goat cheese. All of the ingredients complemented each other perfectly with lots of different tastes and texture.
Of course we couldn’t resist dessert … we were on vacation! J had pumpkin pie and Julia and I split the profiteroles. I always thought these pastry desserts were filled with ice cream, so maybe this was an unorthodox version since they were filled with whipped cream, and the ice cream and chocolate sauce were on the side. Nonetheless they were the perfect sweet finisher to the meal.
(They reminded me that I really want to make a profiterole recipe from Gourmet magazine sometime … I saw it on the cover of one of last Spring’s issues and have been secretly pining for them ever since. And now the magazine is sitting on our bookshelf right near the front door where I put my keys, and every time I leave the apartment I see the picture and drool.)
The next morning we enjoyed the hot tub at our hotel, then went on another short walk at a beautiful lake behind the town, where the mountain views are spectacular. Before leaving town we stopped in at a café on the main street called The Other Paw Bakery and Café. We ate some deliciously cute sandwiches (mine was called The Jack Sprat and J’s Chicken Little … awww). All of their baked goods looked unbelievable, especially the large sticky buns. But we had to save room for our trip to the candy store down the street.
There, we had our pick of elk hooves, dear hooves, bear droppings and more. I chose a dear hoof, which was caramel and cashews dipped in dark chocolate. It was a little too sweet and I couldn’t even finish it. Next time I’ll get the sticky bun.
Our one-night trip to Jasper was the perfect length, and I hope J and I can go back there sometime to see more.
On Monday, we went over to Clément and Julia’s place for Thanksgiving dinner.When we arrived, the turkey had been cooking for four hours already and their apartment was deliciously fragrant. It turned out the only turkey they could find on Sunday that wasn’t frozen was twenty pounds … and it was only the four of us. It looked like turkey leftovers would be on the menu for a while.
For the next few hours we cooked and chatted. J made an apple walnut cake, and I chopped potatoes and carrots. Julia kept checking on the turkey. After five hours it still wasn’t done! Not that we’re exactly turkey experts…but the juices were still running pink. And the disposable aluminum roasting pan Julia had bought developed a hole. Thankfully, we discovered that soon enough so that it didn’t drip all over the oven.
Finally the juices ran clear, my carrots and potatoes were cooked, the gravy and stuffing were ready. The cake was baking in the oven and we all sat down to eat. Somehow my mashed potatoes were a bit of a dud. This is one of my all-time favourite foods and I usually pride myself on how well I make them, so I was not happy. I just didn’t cook the potatoes long enough, even though it seemed like they were on the stove for ages. So there were a few hard lumps. But with enough butter and milk they still tasted pretty good.
The turkey, gravy and stuffing were all great, but the star of the meal was definitely the braised carrots. Go Deborah Madison Go! It’s very easy: I put some chopped carrots in a big skillet with some butter and water, a little sugar, and salt and pepper, and cooked them until the liquid reduced and got syrupy and the carrots got browned. Then I tossed them with a little chopped parsley for colour. So simple, and so good.
As usual at any holiday meal, I ate one plateful too many and felt sick. Yech. It was a great treat to just be able to sit down after dinner and watch TV (I can’t believe it but I actually miss having a TV). A little later I managed to squeeze out a little space in my stomach for a slice of the apple cake.
This was another Nigella recipe and it turned out great. A crunchy, brown crust and soft crumb, stuffed with apples, raisins and walnuts. It’s actually kind of like fruit cake, and so I’m surprised I like it since I always thought I hated fruitcake. It went down especially well with vanilla ice cream.
Before we went home, Clément finished carving the turkey so we could take some leftovers home. As he got down to the carcass, he let out a yell. We all looked over. He had discovered the plastic bag of turkey guts still inside!
Despite all of our turkey troubles, J and I ate delicious turkey sandwiches for the next week. He likes his with mayonnaise and a crisp piece of lettuce. I prefer mine with just untoasted bread, turkey and a nice thick layer of cranberry sauce.
Happy late Thanksgiving!
Apple and Walnut Cake from How To Be a Domestic Goddess by Nigella Lawson
I decided to make this cake because we had half a bottle of walnut oil that had been sitting in our cupboard for about a year back home before we toted it out West and I thought it should finally be used. That having been said, Nigella herself says you shouldn’t bother buying walnut oil (quite expensive) to make it, and that olive oil works fine.
The batter will be quite stiff – but don’t worry. Just spread it as best you can in the pan and it will rise up beautifully.
Also, if you don’t have self-rising cake flour, substitute all-purpose flour and add ½ teaspoon baking powder and ½ teaspoon baking soda for each cup.
Scant ½ cup raisins
6 tablespoons or 3 ounces rum or water
½ cup plus 2 tablespoons walnut oil or olive oil
¾ cup sugar
2 large eggs
2 ¼ cups self-rising cake flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 ½ teaspoons baking soda
½ teaspoon cream of tartar (I didn’t use any since it was so astronomically expensive at the store)
½ teaspoon salt
1 pound tart eating apples, peeled, cored, and cut into small cubes
Zest of one lemon
Scant ¾ cup walnuts, optional
8-inch or 9-inch springform pan, buttered and floured.
Put the raisins and the rum or water into a saucepan and bring to a boil, then remove from the heat, letting the raisins plump up aromatically. Preheat the oven to 350.
Beat the oil and sugar together in a bowl, and add the eggs one at a time, beating until it looks like a light mayonnaise. I’d use an electric mixer of some sort here. Add the dry ingredients to the egg mixture, folding with a metal spoon. Then stir in the apples, lemon zest, drained raisins, and walnuts if using. Smooth what will be a fairly stiff batter into the pan and bake for 1 hour, poking into it with a cake tester or toothpick to check if it’s done.
Let the cake stand for 10 minutes in the pan on a wire rack, then turn it out and leave it to cool. Let cool completely, or eat it “with the warm breath of the oven still faintly upon it”, as Nigella says. Best with vanilla ice cream.
Slice the carrots into rounds, ovals, or a roll cut. Heat the butter in a wide skillet. Add the carrots, ½ teaspoon salt, a little pepper, the sugar, and thyme. Add water to come to the top of the carrots. Bring to a boil, then cover the pan and simmer until the carrots are tender, 10 to 20 minutes, depending on how they were cut. Uncover the pan, raise the heat, and reduce the liquid until it’s syrupy. (If you didn’t have enough liquid, or it cooked away too fast, add more while the carrots are cooking.) Continue cooking the carrots until they begin to brown. Check the seasonings and toss with the parsley.
