Hey, I made dinner today. Kind of. I assembled it – but I did have a pan to wash, so it counts. Right? When mixes came out on the market it was decided that if people had at least three steps of instructions to follow, they’d feel satisfied that they had made whatever it was themselves.
It’s not like I haven’t been in the kitchen – I’ve been testing dog treat recipes for Dogs in Canada and prepping food to take pictures of for Swerve and Parents Canada and doing stuff for CBC. But actual meals have been largely oatmeal and eggs on toast.
But. I had this red Thai curry meal kit I acquired from a new company called Thai Manna who sells their wares at The Hidden Chef in McKenzie Towne (also Millarville Market in the summer, and if you spend $100 or more they will deliver anywhere in Calgary or within a 30 minute radius of South Calgary), where today they started serving up Thai lunches as well. I met the (really nice) owners at a food event awhile ago – they had spent months in Thailand honing their cooking skills, and now have this fabulous fresh Thai curry paste they make from scratch and then include in these adorable little kits that come packed in a Chinese takeout container – fresh chilies, the paste, fish sauce, a can of coconut milk, raw sugar, jasmine rice… all you do is brown some meat and/or veg while your rice cooks (I used shrimp from the freezer and some fresh cauliflower and asparagus – more than they said to, but it worked just fine), add all the little packets and simmer and you have this fabulous, multi-dimensional curry that fed three grown-ups very well. (For $15. I love seeing real fast-food takeout options. And people passionate about opening their own businesses doing what they’re best at.)
They even teach Thai cooking classes! Which I might just have to do. They hold them monthly at the Hidden Chef, or they do private classes – you choose the guest list, time, place, menu and spice level and they provide the equipment, paste, ingredients and all the instruction you can handle, and you all sit down to dinner at the end. Yeah, I thought it was pretty cool too.
March 10 2010 | leftovers | 3 Comments »
I’ve been more or less off dinner duty lately – last night I was in Red Deer teaching a class, and tonight we went to Vin Room (didn’t want to miss out on Dine Out Calgary completely! we ate creamy mushroom soup, braised lamb shoulder and crème brulée, with wine pairings for each, for $50) but I do have something on offer. This morning we talked about lard on the Eyeopener, and I finally made some pastry using my homemade stash, and a third of it came back home with me. And wow.
Seriously-I am pulling up my soapbox and preaching the word of the lard. A little more research on the subject revealed that lard is only (I realize only is relative – but far lower than I would have guessed) 39% saturated fat and 45% monounsaturated fat. (I know! It’s pig fat! How can that be? Is lard really that misunderstood? I think perhaps so.) Comparatively, butter is about 63% saturated fat. So it’s not just a smidge lower – it’s quite substantially lower. In saturated fat. Than butter. Pig fat, that is. My worlds are colliding. My Dad called later in the morning to stress that he couldn’t possibly believe this to be true. But yes, I double and triple-checked, and so far no one has called or emailed to point out that I got my facts wrong.
So swapping some of the butter for lard when making pastry (I usually do all-butter pastry) makes it flakier (lard makes it flaky while butter adds flavour) while reducing saturated fat. Crazy. And it’s an ingredient my Grandma used, and would recognize – which is the whole point, no? The movement back to whole and familiar and real food? And it makes some pretty fab poutine, by the way. (Although canola oil does too, and there’s no question that canola oil is better for you than lard.)
Not Without Salt has a nice little write-up and video on rendering your own lard, although hers is much darker than I like mine to be – the darker it gets the toastier and more intensely flavoured. If you’re gentle and slow, you should be able to keep it pure white and almost flavourless, if you like it that way. Strain it – chill it – lard. I have done a batch in the slow cooker and it works fabulously – it does tend to colour the fat, though – or mine did, anyway – which intensifies the flavour a bit and gives it a pale golden hue. Which is fine, if you don’t mind that – just be warned.
Grandma Woodall’s “Never-fail” Pastry
This will give you enough pastry to line a 9” pie plate; double it to make enough for two pies or a double crust.
1 1/3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp. sugar
1/4 tsp. salt
1/4 cup butter, chilled and cut into pieces
1/4 cup lard or shortening, chilled and cut into pieces
2-4 Tbsp. ice-cold water
1 tsp. vinegar (optional, stir it into the water)
In a large bowl or the bowl of a food processor, stir together the flour, sugar and salt. Add the butter and shortening and use a fork, pastry blender, wire whisk or the “pulse” motion of the food processor to blend the mixture until it resembles coarse meal, with lumps of fat no bigger than a pea.
Drizzle the minimum amount of water over the mixture and stir until the dough comes together, adding a little more a bit at a time if you need it. Gather the dough into a ball, flatten it into a disc, wrap it in plastic and chill it for at least half an hour. If you are making a double crust pie, divide the dough in half, making one half slightly larger than the other. (Your pastry can be prepared up to this point and frozen for up to 4 months; let it thaw on the countertop when you need it.
Maple Hazelnut Pie
Bon Appétit, October 2008
unbaked single pie crust
3/4 cup pure maple syrup
1/2 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
1/2 cup corn syrup
1/4 tsp. salt
2 Tbsp. bourbon
1/4 cup butter, cut into bits
1 large egg white, lightly beaten
1 cup hazelnuts, husked, coarsely chopped
3 large eggs
1 tsp. vanilla
In a medium saucepan set over medium-high heat, combine maple syrup, brown sugar, corn syrup, and salt and bring to a boil, stirring until sugar dissolves. Continue boiling for a minute, reducing heat if it looks like it might boil over. Remove from the heat and stir in the bourbon, then the butter; whisk until butter melts. Let cool to lukewarm, whisking occasionally, about 20 minutes.
Preheat oven to 350°F. Brush crust with the beaten egg white, and scatter with hazelnuts. In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs and vanilla; whisk in the cooled maple-sugar mixture. Pour into the crust, over the hazelnuts. Bake for 45-50 minutes, until filling is set and slightly puffed. Cool completely on a wire rack.
One Year Ago: Curried Red Lentil, Carrot and Sweet Potato Soup with Ginger, and Root Vegetable Cake
March 09 2010 | dessert | 28 Comments »
In March, spring is a tease. Nothing new has arrived at the markets yet, and we all start to become uninspired by root veg. In his pureed borscht-of-sorts the citrus and ginger brightens beets and carrots into something almost springlike. Does the fact that it has beets in it classify it as borscht? Or is this borscht blasphemy?
It’s what we balanced on our knees while half-watching the Academy Awards, when W asked if he could be Buddha, and while sitting on the chair beside his bathtub, when he turned me into a chicken. Thanks to Sue from London, long time reader/supporter/cheerer on of my blog and steadfast commenter for passing this on.
Just look at that colour! The original was dolloped with sour cream, but since roasted beets and goat cheese (with toasted walnuts or pecans) make for my favourite salad, I assumed it would translate well into a steaming bowl of soup. (I was right.)
Citrus-Ginger & Carrot Borscht with Goat Cheese
adapted with thanks to Annie, by way of Sue.
canola or olive oil, for cooking
1 large onion, chopped
1 lb. carrots, peeled and coarsely chopped
1 Tbsp. grated fresh ginger
1 large garlic clove, crushed
3 medium beets (about 1 lb), peeled and coarsely chopped
6 cups chicken, beef or vegetable stock
grated zest of an orange
salt to taste
soft goat cheese or sour cream, for serving (optional)
In a large pot, heat a drizzle of oil over medium heat and saute the onion for a few minutes, until starting to soften. Add the carrots, ginger and garlic and cook for another 5 minutes or so. Add the beets, stock and orange zest and simmer for about an hour.
Puree the soup with a hand-held immersion blender and season with salt to taste. Serve warm or chilled with a dollop of goat cheese or sour cream.
Serves 4-6.
One more thing: Are you single? Like to eat?
My friend Patrick, a real-life chef who trained at the Cordon Bleu and now owns InterCourse Chef Services has offered DwJ readers a discounted rate on his Hands-On Cooking Class for Singles (or could it be called a hands-on singles cooking class?) this coming Thursday, March 11th at the Cookbook Company. The normal fee for the class is $100, but if you email Patrick and tell him you heard about the class here, you’ll only pay $80. It’s a great opportunity to mix and mingle with other singles, have some wine and learn a thing or two about cooking great food.
Bonus: one of the participants that registers by mentioning this blog will win a free enrollment, so by registering you may get in for free. To register, email Patrick at patrick@inter-course.ca (don’t use the PayPal sign up option on the website or you’ll miss out on the discount.)
March 07 2010 | soup | 22 Comments »
I decided this morning that it was spring enough for lemon ricotta pancakes. Unfortunately this meant it was also spring enough to pull on our rubber boots and head out to the mud pit that is our back yard armed with garbage bags and poop scoops and attempt to make it a little less like a slushy poo Slip-n-Slide. The top layers of the glacier behind our house have melted, leaving a thick, icy, dirty underbelly, complete with pieces of Lou’s blankies, socks, kitchen utensils that have been missing since Thanksgiving, and Star Wars action figures half-embedded in ice. (Mike needed to boil the kettle and pour it over Han Solo in order to retrieve him. It was almost like carbonite.)
It’s a good thing we were so fortified by breakfast. Remember when I told you how enamoured I was with recipes as a kid? That I had my own recipe box, and took notes, and tore recipes out of magazines? At the time, lemon-ricotta pancakes seemed to me the absolute epitome of springtime gourmet ladies-who-brunch. Ricotta was something real chefs used instead of cottage cheese. Lemon was far more refined than chocolate. Not a spring goes by that I don’t at least ponder lemon-ricotta pancakes, whether I actually make them or not. And this (almost) spring, I have all this lovely homemade ricotta to make use of.
Today it occurred to me that while lemon-ricotta pancakes most often come with berries on top, I might add another lemon dimension with a sweet-tart lemon syrup to drizzle over. All I did was squeeze the juice from the lemon I zested into the pancake batter into a small pot, add as much sugar (sugar + water = simple syrup, so it stands to reason that sugar + lemon juice = lemon syrup), bring it to a simmer enough to dissolve the sugar, add about as much maple syrup, and pour the warm mixture over the pancakes. Lemon bliss.
Lemon Ricotta Pancakes
adapted from Patent and the Pantry and a bunch of others…
4 eggs, separated
1 cup ricotta
3 Tbsp. sugar
grated zest of a lemon
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
In a large mixing bowl, stir together the egg yolks, ricotta, sugar and lemon zest. Stir in the flour. In another bowl, beat the egg whites until stiff but not dry; fold a third at a time into the ricotta mixture.
Heat a drizzle of oil (and perhaps a bit of butter) in a well-seasoned cast iron skillet (or any pan you want to use) set over medium heat. Scoop about 1/4 cup of the batter into the pan, spread it out a bit and let it cook until golden on the bottom (bubbles won’t rise to the surface as readily with these), then flip and cook on the other side until golden and cooked through. Makes about 6 medium pancakes.
Lemon Maple Syrup
juice of a lemon (about 3 Tbsp.)
3 Tbsp. sugar
1/4-1/2 cup pure maple syrup
Stir together the lemon juice and sugar in a small saucepan set over medium-high heat; bring to a simmer and stir to dissolve the sugar. Remove from the heat and stir in the maple syrup. Serve warm. (Keeps in the fridge for a few weeks.)
One Week Ago: Peanut Butter & Banana Chocolate Chunk Cookies
March 06 2010 | breakfast | 21 Comments »
I may have shared this tidbit with you already: when I was in grade 3, I told my class that when I grew up I wanted to be the food editor of Canadian Living magazine. I even read my Mom’s subscription. I began my career as a food nerd early.
The food editor at the time (and still today), Elizabeth Baird was one of relatively few food writers of the eighties and the only I knew, and I wanted to be her. (8 year olds, unless they happen to have been born into a food-writing family, tend to not know of food writers, let alone idolize them like their friends might Avril Lavigne. And it wasn’t just a phase; as a teenager, I wanted to dye my hair silvery-white and get bangs.
There were other food writers of her time – Rose Reisman, Rose Murray, Anne Lindsay – they were the faces and voices of Canadian cuisine, and I thought of them as pioneers, trendsetters – the ones dialing in the menus and trends of our Canadian kitchens. I still have old copies of the magazine, and their books are still some of the most weathered on my shelves; the ones I learned to cook from, they made me feel like an adult when I moved away from home and (eventually) the novelty of Hamburger Helper and Eggos wore off.
Yesterday, a copy of Anne Lindsay’s new tome, Lighthearted at Home, the very best of Anne Lindsay, arrived at my door. It’s like an encyclopedia, or a phone book – a large volume containing every possible kind of recipe one might ever need – the best of her cooking career, in a single volume. Flipping through, I was instantly sucked into the nostalgia of the baking section – Elizabeth Baird’s Chocolate Angel Food Cake, Best-Ever Date Squares (known in my grandma’s day, and referenced here, as Matrimonial Slice) and Raisin Cupcakes with Lemon Icing, the same recipe I recall transcribing into a notebook a couple decades ago; raisins soaked in boiling water and then drained, reserving some of the liquid for the cakes – the recipe comes from her mother-in-law, Olive Lindsay. I can’t possibly not make them. W, who loves raisins almost above all else (all superheroes excluded, of course) might become ecstatic at the notion of turning them into an actual cupcake.
But I liked the look of her Easy Cranberry-Chocolate Cookies – made with oat bran, wheat germ and whole wheat flour, they seemed potentially tweedy-crispy, rather than heavy… they turned out crisp-edged and nutty, with the rough texture of an oatmeal cookie and none of the heavy doughiness you might expect from something so loaded down with grains.
Out of oat bran, I used barley flour, and a little less of it – about half a cup. I turned the butter down to half a cup, added a tablespoon of vanilla instead of water, added some chunky toasted walnuts and fewer dried cranberries.
Grainy Cranberry-Walnut-Chocolate Chip Cookies
adapted from Lighthearted at Home, by Anne Lindsay
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 cup packed brown sugar
1 large egg
1 Tbsp. vanilla
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 cup oat bran or 1/2 cup barley flour
1/4 cup wheat germ
1 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
1 cup chocolate chips or chopped dark chocolate
1/2 cup dried cranberries
1/2 cup chopped toasted walnuts
Preheat the oven to 350F.
In a large bowl, beat the butter and brown sugar until fluffy. Beat in the egg and vanilla. Add the flour, oat bran, wheat germ, baking powder, baking soda and salt and stir until the batter starts to come together; add the chocolate chips, cranberries and walnuts and stir or beat on low speed just until the batter is combined.
Drop the dough in large spoonfuls onto a cookie sheet that has been sprayed with nonstick spray or lined with parchment; flatten each cookie a little with your hand or the back of a fork. Bake for 12-14 minutes, until just set around the edges but still soft in the middle. Transfer to a wire rack to cool. Makes 2 dozen cookies.
For dinner we ate very mediocre frozen thin-crust chicken and spinach pizza while W had a bath, having slid through a pile of newly-thawed dog poo (ah, spring), and then went to watch Where the Wild Things Are at the Lantern in Inglewood. A bag of cookies came with us, warm from the oven.
And guess what! Being as it’s Friday, I have a copy for you. 500 recipes, almost as many pages – it’s a whole lotta cookbook. If you have a cookie recipe that makes you the most happy, I’d love to hear it. (And share links, if you like!) Otherwise, I always love to hear what you ate/made for dinner last night.
(I do a random draw on Tuesdays, and am happy to ship it anywhere it needs to go!)
March 06 2010 | cookies & squares | 88 Comments »
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