Archive for September, 2009
Recession? There’s a recession going on?? There certainly isn’t any evidence of one here in Vegas, where half the strip is under construction for 4 or 5 brand-new über hotels – slash – upscale residences (that of course must dwarf the ridiculously large ones alraedy there) and a giant Tiffany’s. Perhaps it’s not as dense with people as usual, I wouldn’t know, but I can’t imagine them cramming any more into the FOUR STORY M&Ms STORE or onto the 11 acre beach outside (at Mandalay Bay), where with 43 floors and 1117 rooms they still didn’t manage to have one for us when we arrived Friday night (with a reservation) and instead put the three of us in a one-bed room with a cot. (Have I mentioned we’re all in the vicinity of 6 feet tall?) So we had to pack up again and change rooms today, and then our new one wasn’t ready, and while we’re on the subject: you’d think that a $319 a night hotel room might include internet access but no, you have to pay $15 US a day for it, and there’s no option of a free business centre in the lobby. What decade is this? Even the $40-a-night Best Western over by Hooters offers free wireless.
It’s hot, and the beach at the hotel was packed. Every cabana, rented. Coors Light bikini girls playing volleyball. You go through a Disney-esque turnstile to even access the pool and its ammenties (bars, gift shops, casinos).
Vegas is a spectacle. Being here, I’ve decided, is the polar opposite of being in Tofino. Dry, desert heat (39 degrees this weekend-like a blast furnace door opens every time we exit an air conditioned building), astroturf outside, everything in quantity. Being in Vegas evokes the feeling that you’ve somehow been had. (And it does keep coming up – if you go to the Tix place out on the strip, you’ll pay almost half what you would for a show at the box office. And five minutes after paying $120 for four of us to go see the Bodies Exhibition – $30 each – we learned that we all could have gone in for $50 if we listened to some sort of sales pitch.)
Oh, and also? We might starve here. Or at least I might lose a few pounds due to sheer unavailabilty of food outside swanky restaurants (which would be a good thing according to the ultra-slim SCALE they have in the hotel room bathroom, which is called “Slimmer” and which registers me at 8.5 pounds more than I was at home). Who weighs themselves at hotels? There’s no coffee machine (although you can order a pot for the low low price of $13.50), no wine opener, but yes there is a spanking new digital scale, and a sex kit (I’ll leave that up to your imagination) for sale by the mini bar. (Priorities.)
So far I’ve been hemmoraging money. (Starbucks is about 50% more than in Calgary – grande Americano: $4.65. Paltry sandwich: $8.50. Muffin: $3.50. Water: $4.00) Around here, nothing is free – except maybe peep shows – or even cheap. It’s blowing me away that on the strip, which is like being on the Stampede grounds all the time, there are only sit-down restaurants and hardly any options for carry-out. Before going in to see the Bodies exhibit (wow) it was a struggle to locate a small gift store in the Luxor lobby that had something to eat we didn’t need to sit down to order – A & S bought $4 prepackaged sandwiches (those little plastic triangles – and these were the saddest I’ve seen) that were so soggy and slimy, S didn’t even eat hers. I paid $2 for a bag of M&Ms that we shared around.
Notice the outdoor ROLLER COASTER outside the New York New York? Everything is crazy and enormous and plastic here. We’ve had about a dozen Elvis sightings, one Marilyn Monroe, one Michael Jackson, and V saw Santa getting a massage at the Fashion Mall. And there are a lot of boobs. A LOT. I’ve never felt so simultaneously under and over dressed, or more lacking in the cleavage department. I’m surprised synthetic stilletos aren’t issued to us as we come through the arrivals gate.
But we’ve been taking your restaurant recommendations! Last night we arrived starving and upon promptly getting swallowed into the strip, pulled out my printed-out list of your comments and recognized the Bellagio, so we crossed the street (which might earn danger pay if you ever did it for a living) and went into Mon Ami Gabi and sat on the patio, square across from the fountain show. Perfect for the first night in Vegas – thanks Kayla!
We made the mistake of ordering appetizers while still at the bar waiting for our table and then the server told us about the Julie & Julia prix fixe menu, which I totally would have ordered (French onion soup, duck a l’orange, chocolate mousse) – instead I had pork tenderloin with date-glazed thickly cut bacon on an enormous pillow of mashed potatoes. With wine, I’m astounded I made it back to the hotel on foot.
Tonight was the big birthday dinner, and S & D’s husbands sent along their credit cards to cover dinner for the 16 of us. We ate in a private room at Aureole, one of many restaurants in the complex – it was fabulous inside, with a two-storey glass-encased wine cellar – although I don’t understand why Charlie Palmer would name a restaurant after a nipple. I had the theatre menu – rock shrimp cocktail with guacamole, grilled swordfish on ratatouille (look at me, being all healthy!) and – unfortunately – the cheesecake with roasted peaches (which weren’t roasted! that was the selling point!) instead of the chocolate-caramel platter with chocolate gelato that looked stupendous. WHAT WAS I THINKING?? I seem to always be disappointed with cheesecake.
Then we (appropriately) took a stretch Hummer to Freemont Street - old Vegas – to catch the light show (the consensus: lame – girls dressed as firemen doing a sexy dance on the ceiling?) and played 5 cent slots at the Golden Nugget.
By now we all feel like we’ve had enough -we got the gist- a day and a half in Vegas time feels like a week and we could easily (and happily – particularly A, who is sick and has completely lost use of her voice) go home tomorrow, but we have another 48 hours! Perhaps I’ll lounge around the hotel room, take baths in the tub that’s twice the size as mine at home, and post updates here.
September 13 2009 | leftovers | 26 Comments »
Have I bragged about my tomatoes yet? No? A little bit? I GREW MY OWN TOMATOES. Or rather, I didn’t kill the plants I bought at Home Depot. (Speaking of – last week W exclaimed from the back seat: “Wow Mom! Look at that big huge building! Is that the hospital?” Me: “No, that’s Home Depot.”)
I planted them in June-ish, in a soil-filled double sink beside my fence, and they grew a ton of fruit – a small patio variety plus the usual cherries – and they keep on coming, even though their leaves and stalks have started to turn the colour and texture of straw.
A few weeks ago A brought over a fantastic tomato salad made with prime specimens from her in-law’s yard in BC. I couldn’t believe how good it was. I ate it for days, even though it started to turn into a sort of cold, chunky tomato soup. I drank the dregs from the bowl. I emailed to ask for the recipe: tomatoes, a drizzle of olive oil, a drip of balsamic, salt and pepper. Really, that’s all you need when tomatoes are this good.
I did it again: chopped tomatoes and added the wee-est amount of oil, balsamic, S&P. Then mounded it on toast, rubbed with a cut clove of garlic and drizzled with green olive oil.
The cherry pie I (sadly) cannot take credit for – you may recognize it as something photographed in a dark restaurant (get used to this – I’m leaving for Vegas in T minus 19 hours). I went to a special preview screening of Fresh (the movie) at the new District (gastropub) and had a slice of chef Heather’s cherry-strawberry pie, topped with vanilla gelato. If you want the recipe, she has a full-on video on their blog. And if you’re interested in seeing Fresh (the movie), they are offering another (FREE) screening on Tuesday the 15th, with (FREE) eats. (Again, their blog has the details.)
NEXT TIME I POST IT WILL BE FROM VEGAS! We’re (all 18 of us) staying here – ironic that someone who refuses to wear a swimsuit is staying at a hotel with an 11-acre beach in 39 degree weather.
(And what’s over-21, European-style bathing, anyway? Am I too naive to go to Vegas?)
One Year Ago: Baked Pasta with Garlic, Spinach, Zucchini and Goat Cheese
September 10 2009 | leftovers | 21 Comments »
Will you look at these? They’re gluten free. I know!
I’m one of the lucky ones – one who can eat wheat and other gluten-y grains without my innards ganging up on me and holding a mutiny. But because there are so many who can’t, and because I was teaching a class on cooking for kids with allergies to a group of day care cooks, I wanted to tread into the waters of gluten-free baking. I was unsure of myself, and so looked to Shauna as a guide – she has navigated her way through I don’t know how many combinations of flours to produce everything from fluffy pancakes to flaky pastry without gluten, and she’s a brilliant writer besides. She loves food as passionately as anyone I know, not just settling for the gluten-free. I have written her blog address on I don’t know how many scraps of paper and napkins for people who come to me wanting to know what to do for loved ones who have just discovered they can’t have gluten. She even put together an indispensable guide to gluten-free flours.
And to be honest, I eat too much wheat myself. I like the idea that I can make a batch of muffins without using wheat flour if I want to, and then actually want to eat them. As you can see, W was quite enamoured with them too. It’s a great basic recipe to which you could add any type of berry or chopped fruit – peaches, plums, apricots, apples, pears… whatever you like in your muffin.
Gluten-Free Lemon Blueberry Muffins
adapted from Gluten Free Girl (a must-read for those with gluten allergies – and she has a book! and another on the way!) to use the gluten-free blend – she calls for a cup each of sorghum flour, white rice flour and tapioca flour. I didn’t see sorghum flour at Community, and so tried their gluten-free blend (rice, tapioca and xanthan gum, I believe?), which worked swimmingly.
10 Tbsp. butter, softened
1 cup sugar
grated zest of a lemon
2 large eggs
3 cups gluten-free flour blend (or 1 cup sweet white sorghum flour, 1 cup white rice flour and 1 cup tapioca flour)
1 ½ tsp. baking powder
½ tsp. baking soda
½ tsp. salt
1 ½ cups plain yogurt
1 cup fresh or frozen (don’t thaw them) blueberries, raspberries, Saskatoon berries, blackberries.. or diced peaches, pears, apples, whatever you have that you want in your muffin
sugar, for sprinkling
Preheat the oven to 375F.
In a large bowl, cream the butter, sugar and lemon zest together with a spatula. (If you beat the mixture for awhile with an electric mixer, the muffins will not rise – stick to doing it by hand.) Add the eggs one at a time, mixing after each.
Add a cup of the flour along with the baking powder, soda and salt, and mix well. Add half the yogurt and stir until combined, then another third of the flour, the rest of the yogurt and the rest of the flour. Stir in the berries, or whatever fruit you want to use.
Divide the batter among muffin tins that have been lined with paper liners or sprayed with nonstick spray, filling them. (You’ll get about 18-20 muffins.) Sprinkle the tops with sugar and bake for 25-30 minutes, until golden and springy to the touch.
Makes about 1 1/2 dozen muffins.
One Year Ago: Sweetcorn Chowder with Cheesy Tortillas
September 09 2009 | bread and breakfast | 26 Comments »
I was guilted (by myself) tonight into making a proper Sunday dinner – seeing as I’ll be away next weekend, and the week is quickly closing in like that garbage compactor in the original Star Wars, with me thigh-deep in sludge desperately trying to wedge something in there to buy more time (Princess Leia isn’t so glamorous after all), I felt somewhat obligated to feed the boys properly before I go.
What, I haven’t told you? I’m going to VEGAS! Not only that, I’m going to Vegas WITH 18 GIRLS (one of whom went to see Pretty in Pink with John Cusack, so really with only two degrees of separation, it’s kind of like I’m almost going to Vegas with JC himself. Think we’ll get married?) for a sort of collective 40th birthday party (not mine) and I’m bringing you along, of course. We leave on Friday around dinnertime. VEGAS!! I’ve never been. I’m currently researching best food locales so that I can avoid buffets and maximize dineros and vacation calories – any suggestions are more than welcome.
I had picked up a chicken at the farmers’ market and was about to toss it into my usual cast iron skillet, rub it with my usual canola oil, stuff with my usual half lemon and garlic cloves, sprinkle with my usual S&P and just roast it, when I thought I might be able to do one better. I consulted Jamie. My sister, I’ve heard, makes legendary roast chicken using his recipe, and I thought he might know a thing or two I don’t. I imagine in his library of books there lives more than one roast chicken recipe, but this is the one I came across first. It instructs parboiling the potatoes (I used new ones, some so small they were the size of large peas) along with an entire lemon (which infuses the potatoes as they simmer) then taking them off the heat after 10 minutes, jabbing the lemon all over with a fork and jamming it into the cavity, which allows for better lemon infusion and steaming from the inside (this also works for cleaning microwaves). I did thus. It was fantastic.
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September 07 2009 | chicken & turkey | 27 Comments »
There are, as you know, some things I love to make simply because of their names. Grunts, buckles, Betties and pandowdies (that must be the plural of pandowdy, no?) always reel me in. All are fruity things, topped with some form of starchy carbohydrate; to simplify, a pandowdy is an upside down pie of sorts – what you might know as a fruit crumble, topped with pastry instead of the usual buttery, sugary rubble.
I’ve always been a fan of the single-crust pie; two can be too much, particularly when the ratio of pastry to fruit flips in favour of pastry. Not that I have anything against pastry, of course – but I do tend to get stingy about my calories, and the bottom crust, especially when it’s a sort of pallid white (which let’s face it, it usually is) is kind of a waste. I often dig out the filling and eat the top crust and edge, leaving the bottom. With a pandowdy, you kind of have the best of both worlds; plus you don’t need to stress about whether or not your pie will cut into clean slices, because it’s not supposed to.
I served this last night with burnt sugar ice cream, which was a hit. I was in a hurry, thinking the friends around my table (these guys, and these guys) might be anxious to leave (they weren’t), and so prematurely scooped the hot pandowdy onto plates and topped it with soft-from-the-machine ice cream, which resulted in a sort of chunky (albeit delicious) soup. In my haste (and the early dark – sigh) I didn’t take a photo, which is as good an excuse as any to make another batch, don’t you think?
This chunk of pandowdy was left over this morning. On a Sunday when you’ve had nearly 4 hours of sleep and have been forced out of bed at 7 to listen to Dora and clean every dish in the house, a wedge of peach-blackberry pandowdy for breakfast makes a fine consolation prize.
Peach & Blackberry Pandowdy
5 large peaches (or more, if you like)
2 cups (ish) fresh or frozen blackberries
1/3-1/2 cup sugar
2 Tbsp. cornstarch
pinch salt
pastry for a single crust pie, chilled
Preheat the oven to 400F.
Get out a deep baking dish (mine was about 7″x10″) and slice your peaches into it, not bothering to peel them. Add the blackberries. Stir the sugar, cornstarch and salt in a small dish and sprinkle overtop, then toss with your hands until more or less combined.
On a lightly floured countertop, roll the pastry out until roughly an inch bigger around than the edge of the baking dish. Place it overtop, fold the edges under and kind of crimp them, pressing up against the edge of the pan. Don’t worry about being neat about it – this is what they call rustic.
Cut a few slits in the top and if you like, brush with milk or cream and sprinkle with coarse sugar. Bake for 20-30 minutes, until golden and bubbly. Let cool for 20 minutes to allow the juices to thicken. Serves 8.
One Year Ago: Pakoras with Chutney, and Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough
September 06 2009 | dessert | 15 Comments »
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