Further afield

 
It's finally Spring in Edmonton, and we've been going on adventures.

It's hard to believe we've been living here long enough to see three seasons. The fourth, I'm told, is especially nice. But for now, we're enjoying the warmish days Spring is bringing us, and going a bit further afield than we have all winter.

A picnic in the river valley - with a melange of food gathered from home and the market - makes the day feel special.

 
Walking by the river with friends is also a nice way to spend the afternoon.

(I know, it looks really grey still. But I promise you it’s warm and pleasant! Things are starting to turn green.)

 
And it’s more fun when you have an Adventure Guide to follow along with (thanks Susan!).

 
I love discovering pretty new shops …

 
 
… lovely, delicious-looking cafes …

  
… and drinking refreshing iced tea.

I also finally went to this bakery. But they were all out of bread, so we will have to go back.

 
I remember going to a bead store in Halifax when I was a kid. I loved making things. I made a bracelet with my name spelled out in beads.

 
One Saturday we made a quick stop - right before they closed - at the wonderful Paddy's Cheese Shop. I had heard so much about this place, and I wished we could buy one of everything. Instead we got a small (oh god it's expensive) chunk of Applewood smoked cheddar, one of our favourites. We discovered it on our honeymoon in Denmark last year, along with Sage cheddar. We bought them both from a wonderful man at a large cheese cart in Kerteminde.

 
I have also bought a lot of books recently, which I haven't done in a long time. The library here is right near our apartment, and so full of almost everything I want, that I just haven't seen the need to spend money on books. But we stumbled upon the amazing bargain shelf at this shop (brand-new books for $3.99? Whaaaat??), and explored this one as well. As a result, I have lots of books added to my reading list.

Right now I'm still working my way through My Life in France by Julia Child. It's all about when she first discovered food, and France, and started learning how to cook. It's a great read, and makes her seem very human and ordinary. It also makes me want to pick up a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking - her landmark first book. I've never read any of her cookbooks before.

I haven't been making a lot of time for myself to cook and bake lately, and I want to change that. (I have been dreaming of cakes and cookies ... a few days ago I finally made a new batch of granola.) We have been eating through our stockpile in the freezer instead. And J made a delicious birthday dinner for his brother: braised pork with apples, roasted vegetables, market salad, and chocolate cake.

 
So to make sure this post has at least a modicum of food in it, here is J's recipe for his absolutely amazing braised pork. This meal, along with braised bison, have made me so happy that I'm eating meat again. It comes out meltingly tender with a sauce so delicious that I think I could bottle and sell it.

I know it is Spring, but you can still enjoy this now. Or if you must, save it until next winter. It's worth it.

Braised Pork with Apples
Adapted from Chef At Home by Michael Smith

You can use pork shoulder or leg for this recipe. It's best to find a cut that is rather tough. These are cheaper anyway. We usually buy ours from First Nature Farms at the market. As for what else goes in the pot, it is up to you. Braising is a great way to experiment with flavours since it’s a very simple technique. J does it a little differently each time, and then afterwards, we puree the liquid and freeze  it to use again the next time. I think this is the key – the flavour intensifies, and each time you add another layer to make it even more rich and aromatic.

A splash of vegetable oil
One or two pieces of pork  (~2 pounds total)
2 or 3 sliced onions
4 apples, cored and cut into large chunks
A few cupfuls of applesauce or apple juice
A couple of chopped carrots
Half a bottle of white wine
A few heaping teaspoonfuls of mustard
2 or 3 bay leaves
Salt and pepper

Choose a pot where your meat fits snugly, without too much extra room. Heat the pot on medium-high heat, and splash in some vegetable oil until it covers the bottom. Make sure the meat is dry, then add it to the pot. Brown the meat on all sides until it is dark, but not burnt. When it is evenly brown, take it out of the pot and set it aside for a few minutes. Leave all the lovely browning juices in the pot, and add the onions. Cook, stirring frequently, until onions are nicely browned, about 15 minutes. If the bottom of the pot starts to brown too much, add a splash of water and turn the heat down a notch.

Return the meat to the pot and add all of the other ingredients. (The liquid should be almost covering the meat, but not quite.) Bring it to a simmer, then cut a piece of parchment paper the size of the pot. Cover with the parchment paper and a tightly-fitting lid. Reduce the heat to the lowest setting that will maintain a simmer. Cook slowly until the meat is very tender, at least 2 hours.

If you don’t have enough apples, you can add some extra sauce or juice, or vice versa. You could add other vegetables if you wanted too.

Cactus Club Cafe

It was a regular Wednesday night in Edmonton, and I was about to see just how much fun free food and wine can be. As my friend Susan and I walked in the front doors of the new Cactus Club Cafe, two glamorous-looking women greeted us warmly, and we were ushered into the large lounge area of the restaurant. We settled into tall chairs at one of the round tables around the bar and giggled to each other.

“We are so not hip enough to be here right now,” I said.

Waitresses walked the floor with trays of red wine, white wine, and Heineken. The booths and tables were starting to fill up. People were happily chatting with each other, and there was excitement in the air.

I had scored an invitation to the preview reception at the Cactus Club because of a story I did when chef Rob Feenie visited the Northern Alberta Institute of Technology (NAIT) back in February. After spending about three minutes interviewing him, I had somehow ended up on a mailing list. I wasn’t complaining. But I felt young and naive sitting there among people who were probably much more important than me. I tried to pretend this wasn’t my first opening reception.

I felt better when plates of food started coming out from the kitchen. I hadn’t been sure what to expect at this reception, but it turned out we had a full 8-course sit-down dinner ahead of us. The first course was beef carpaccio – super-thin slices of raw, marbled beef criss-crossed with stripes of dijon aioli and sprinkled with capers, pickled shallots, and flakes of parmesan. A small mound of greens (maybe arugula?) sat in the middle of the plate. It was a divine combination. I’ve never eaten raw beef before, but I fell for this version fast. The meat was soft, tender, and mild. I tried to figure out what it tasted like, but I couldn’t discern much actual flavour. But the sharp tang of the shallots, the spice of the mustard, and the salty parmesan hit my tongue. We piled the delicate beef on slices of garlic crostini and tried not to eat too fast, or too much. We had a hunch there was a lot more coming.

 
As the light slowly fell outside the tall windows of the restaurant, empty plates were whisked away and new ones arrived. Our wine glasses were filled, and refilled. A colleague of mine arrived with her husband and they joined our table.  It was festive atmosphere. I think we all felt lucky to be there.

I tried many foods during the meal that I had never tasted before. My favourite new dish was the tuna tataki. Triangles of raw tuna lay on top of julienned carrots and green papaya, cubes of avocado and mango, dots of orange caviar, a few pine nuts, and a slice of orange, all resting in a citrus vinaigrette. Eating that made me think there must be no better accompaniment to raw tuna than citrus. The fish was soft but firm. It tasted clean and fresh, and as I ate it I thought of the sea.

There were other surprises – the beautiful texture of the single piece of sablefish floating in a dashi broth with potatoes and asparagus – it has been cooked gently and was almost partly raw. The texture of silky squash inside fresh ravioli. The sweet richness of a cube of short rib sitting in its own juices, and the frothy foaminess of pureed celeriac swirled beneath it. Finally, the thick complexity of a dab of caramel sauce complimenting the chocolate peanut butter crunch bar.

 

 
The only miss of the night for three out of four of us was the rocket salad, atop a panko-crusted chicken breast. Someone got carried away with the salt shaker in the kitchen, and I couldn’t finish it because of the overwhelming saltiness. The chicken also had very little flavour. Compared to the other dishes, it was especially disappointing.

What we ate is only a small fraction of the Cactus Club menu. Everything was from chef Rob Feenie’s feature dishes – they’re clearly marked with a little R.F. so that you know exactly whose food you are eating. The experience we had was clearly not the average one you would get during a normal meal. It was a luxury to be able to taste so many different things in small portions.

Somewhere between the second and third courses (… or fourth, I started to lose count), Mr. Iron Chef himself made an appearance. Feenie, in crisp chef’s whites, was chatting to a few people near our table. Susan was star-struck. Her brother Andrew is a chef and she starting texting him about where we were. “I am so jealous,” he wrote back. During the meal, she kept him updated about what we were eating. “Oh my God! I’ve been wanting to try his ravioli for years!” he wrote.

The service throughout the evening was excellent. The servers were friendly and knowledgeable, and requests for water and wine refills were met promptly. Of course, I’m sure it helped that the entire waitstaff was probably working that night. 

The space we ate in was lovely and sophisticated, very open with high ceilings. The room is divided into the lounge area  that surrounds the oval-shaped bar, and the restaurant area with lines of booths. At the back of the space is a long open kitchen. The whole place is dotted with interesting touches. Art on the walls ranges from Andy Warhol to an Alberta and a B.C. artist. A massive red lamp hangs in the hall near the kitchen, and the lights hanging throughout most of the restaurant are edgy and modern, like IKEA on steroids.

I realize this isn’t exactly normal for a restaurant review, but I also have to mention the bathrooms. They are probably the most decadent bathrooms I’ve seen in years – maybe ever. I shudder to think of the amount of money spent on them alone. Cream-coloured couches are available for your lounging pleasure,  just in case you eat too much, and round, lit-up mirrors tell you “You’re Beautiful” in bold white text. To top it all off, on the back of each stall door is a small television screen. What was on TV the night we were there? A fashion show of twiggy models.

When we first sat down in the Cactus Club at the beginning of the night, my friend Susan said it reminded her of an Earl’s. I knew what she meant – the decor makes it feel like it’s trying to be a lot swankier than it actually is. Some of it may also have been the location, on the North side of the mall, next to Sears. It’s disconcerting to look out the window and see the Liquor Barn and a Boston Pizza staring back at you. But there is a whiff of sophistication surrounding it that you don’t get at Earl’s. And when the food starts coming out of the kitchen, it’s clear you are being taken care of by someone completely different.

 
I will definitely visit Cactus Club again, but I don’t know how soon I’ll be back, considering I have to take a 35-minute bus ride there and back. Clearly the restaurant is relying on mall foot-traffic and West End foodies to make up their clientele. I hope they can continue their standard of excellence in the kitchen and the dining room, and make a go of it in Edmonton. We keep hearing that people are choosing to stay home and entertain more these days. We’ll have to wait and see whether Feenie’s brand, and the allure of “casual fine dining”, can keep Cactus Club afloat.

When the long, luxurious meal was over, Susan and I walked through a chilly parking lot, waited in the dingy bus station, and rode the bus home. We were pushed firmly back into our normal lives, no longer special guests at a preview reception. But the warmth of good food, wine, and conversation lasted at least the whole bus ride home.

The bottle of wine they gave us as we were leaving definitely helped.

Cactus Club Cafe
West Edmonton Mall
1946-8882 170th Street NW
Edmonton, AB
www.cactusclubcafe.com

Long weekends are the best

We had such a glorious weekend, and I had a lot of fun with the camera. Here are a few images I’d like to share with you:

 

 

…dying Easter eggs (which I was so excited about, but they actually came out pretty grainy and sort of weird-looking – but they looked nice once they got in the basket) 

…taking a trip to Little Italy and to the Italian Centre Shop

…having friends over for a delightful Easter dinner

…relaxing!

I hope you all had a wonderful weekend too. I will be back to share more recipes soon.

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.