Archive for August, 2010
And carrots.
And as I sat here writing about how we picked up our first CSA box this afternoon (having been away for the first few – they really weren’t this late to start) and how ecstatic the boys were over the bunches of carrots they got to choose (they begged to be allowed to eat their entire bunches for dinner – well hmm, OK) the doorbell rang and Mike came upstairs with a warm slice of thin-crust pizza spread with ricotta, topped with peaches and drizzled with honey. Does one’s property value increase when said property is right next door to that of a chef?
This afternoon it poured rain, but I had promised the boys we’d go to the wading pool. We went anyway, and had the entire place to ourselves. The boys could not believe there was not one other person in the pool – after all, they reasoned, you’re going to be wet anyway – who cares if you’re in the shower and bath at the same time?
Then we dried off (somewhat), grabbed our CSA boxes – just-picked lettuce, chard, carrots, cucumbers, garlic scapes, radishes, peas, pattypan squash and yellow zucchini, broccoli, thin-skinned white and purple potatoes, sweet and green onions (who says nothing grows in Alberta?) and when I got home and fired up a cast iron skillet with oil and garlic and a drained can of chickpeas to sizzle up with the chard, my mom brought home a couple of Croque Monsieurs from L’Epicerie – you can take them home in little paper bags unbaked, then slide them into the oven for 15 minutes yourself while tossing a salad or wilting chard into your chickpeas. It has all the warm and gooey cheesy appeal of a pizza, with far more class. Not that I’ve ever been much concerned about that, but you never know, it could be a selling point.
August 12 2010 | leftovers | 14 Comments »
I’m home, guys. In my own bed and kitchen. I have lots to tell, but I’ve taken to working on other stories in bed, and so wind up feeling like I’ve written a post here when I’ve actually been completely slacking in that regard. From now on I’ll relegate work to my desk (or couch/front step/coffee shop) and be more selective about who I bring to bed.
In my three-day absence I learned of some fast food trips (those five year olds are talkers) and that W’s new favourite dinner is something called egg hot dog, in which two poached eggs are served up drippily on a leftover hot dog bun from the Big Birthday Party, presumably because there’s no other bread in the house. (There was, however, plenty of fresh spinach, kale and chard that remained untouched. And wait till you see the garden.) I think I should instigate Mike Mondays, and make him cook. What do you think?
Some rummaging around this morning produced a couple scones from the freezer and upon doing inventory of the fridge (I’ve only been home about a day and a half since we cleaned out the fridge and left for Tofino) I came upon a jar of this rhubarb-ginger jam I made when it did not seem possible that the counterload of rhubarb would in any way squeeze into the freezer. And I’m pretty good at Tetris.
I won’t even pretend to write out an elaborate recipe for this – all I did was chop and cook it down, with a thumb-sized piece of ginger lazily sliced in and then plucked out afterward – you could grate it instead, and cook it down with the rhubarb.
Rhubarb-Ginger Jam
5 cups chopped rhubarb
2 cups sugar
a few slices of fresh ginger, or a few chunks of chopped candied ginger, or a drizzle of ginger syrup
Put everything in a pot, and add a splash of water only if you feel you need the help to get things going. Bring to a simmer and cook, stirring occasionally, until the mixture is soft, thick, and jam-like. Cool, pluck out any large chunks of ginger (if you want to) and store in the fridge. Makes a few cups.
August 12 2010 | preserves | 9 Comments »
I still am not cooking dinner myself these days, so here’s something I made out in Tofino that I didn’t get around to telling you about. It looks simple, and it is – it’s one of those one-pan comfort foods (on account of the potatoes) I could eat over and over, especially with new potatoes and fresh peas from the market. Come to think of it, I need to try this with sweet potatoes.
I’m in Saskatoon tonight, and was in Winnipeg last night, so I haven’t been doing much cooking – in my own kitchen, anyway. (I was on BT Winnipeg this morning, and I’m doing some taping for CTV Saskatoon tomorrow.) I’m beginning to miss my kitchen. (While appreciating fully that it’s some peoples’ dream to never have to cook dinner themselves ever again. On that note, how did cooking and cleaning get lumped together? As if the Cleaning Network would ever happen. Or maybe it would. Magazines devoted to cleaning? I suppose Martha delves into the subject.)
Now that I wouldn’t miss doing. Not that I do much of it anyway. I minimized W’s birthday party menu not only because I was only going to be home for a day and a half, but because the level of disgusting our house has risen to was far more pressing. I think we’ve reached the point where it will be easier to paint than to wash the walls.
Where was I? Right – in Saskatoon. In a charming old hotel with a sign out front that says “WATCH FOR FALLING ICE!”, bathroom tiles like the ones at my Grandma’s house, wide hallways that I hope later tonight I don’t remember remind me of The Shining, and other details that make me wish I had my camera.
No, I didn’t bring my camera. I’m lugging dishes and gear and food from points A to B to C to D (I brought two loaded grocery bags filled with food/frozen meat/glass bowls and a frying pan as part of my carryon baggage today – there is no elegant way to transport all this) and I didn’t want to carry my camera too, nor feel pressured to document everything and then guilt over not getting around to uploading them.
I used my phone when I detoured my rental car to BDI this afternoon, but didn’t manage to document the part where I leaned in to lick the top off my hot fudge sundae and poured sticky fudge-melted ice cream soup all down my front, all over and INSIDE my bag, with nothing but dry napkins to clean it up with and it was 34 degrees with a humidex of 42? ON MY WAY to the airport.
Curried Potatoes with Tomatoes and Peas
a variation of “Potato Curry” in Simply Indian
4-5 Yukon gold or new potatoes, cut into large chunks (I don’t bother to peel them – a bonus when you use thin-skinned potatoes like Yukon Golds)
canola oil, for cooking
1 cup crushed tomatoes, tomato sauce, or 2 tomatoes pureed in the food processor
1 jalapeno pepper, seeded and minced (optional)
2 tsp. paprika
1-2 tsp. curry powder or paste
1-2 tsp. chili powder
2 tsp. sugar
1/2 tsp. salt (or to taste)
1/2-1 cup frozen peas, thawed by running under warm water in a colander
Boil the potatoes until tender. In a large skillet, heat a drizzle of oil and add the potatoes; toss them around a bit. Add the tomatoes, jalapeno, paprika, curry powder, chili powder, sugar and salt and cook for 5 minutes. Add the peas and cook for another 5 minutes, until the potatoes are well coated and the extra moisture has cooked off.
Serves 4.
August 09 2010 | veg and vegetarian | 18 Comments »
Sorry – I have more sweets for you. This time it’s cake, because today we managed to pull off our first chocolate dragon. W had a small birthday party – just cousins, aunts, grandmas and grandad and a few friends. He wanted hot dogs and Cheezies. We added mini burgers, peaches, blueberries and a tray of veg (tiny local carrots, radishes and pea pods) with garlic & basil Swiss dressing from Mary and Ernie – all easy stuff and not much in the way of cooking, so there isn’t much to pass on.
As he is currently obsessed with the movie How to Train Your Dragon he requested a dragon cake. Mike baked the layers, and having reviewed a few photos of other homemade dragon cakes for guidance, we went at it with a knife first thing this morning. One cake was cut in half and then put side by side for the body (a tip I took from here), and the tail, head, neck, arms and legs came from the second layer. It was actually much easier than I thought it would be.
One tip: icing does not like to be spread over the sides of cut cakes – we put ours into a large ziploc bag and squeezed it on, then spread it gently, coaxing it into the nooks and crannies. You could do a crumb coat – frost it without worrying about crumbs, then chill or freeze, then add a second layer of icing. (The crumbs being happily trapped in the first coat.) We didn’t have room in our freezer for a tray of ice cubes, let alone an entire dragon.
The spikes on its back are those square chocolate mints (you could use After Eights) cut in half diagonally; its teeth and claws are Mike & Ike’s, and the eyes are mini marshmallows Mike constructed with some sort of little candy wedged inside with the aid of a bamboo skewer. (He too has an Inner Martha.) The little wings were a cheat-yanked from one of his toys. We had to draw the line somewhere.
Chocolate Cake
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup cocoa
1 1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 1/2 cups sugar
3 large eggs
1 1/4 cups milk
1 tsp. vanilla
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Spray two 8 or 9- inch round cake pans or one 9×13- inch pan with non-stick spray.
In a medium bowl, stir together the flour, cocoa, baking powder and salt. In a larger bowl, beat the butter with an electric mixer for about half a minute, until it’s pale and creamy. Pour in the sugar and continue to beat for 3-4 minutes, until the mixture is light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after you add each one. Scrape down the sides of the bowl whenever it needs it.
Stir the vanilla into the milk. Add about a third of the flour mixture to the butter mixture and stir it in by hand or with the electric mixer on low speed, just until it’s combined. Add about half the milk in the same manner, then another third of the flour, the rest of the milk and the rest of the flour, mixing just until the batter is blended.
Divide the batter between the greased cake pans and tap the bottoms a few times on the countertop to remove any air bubbles. To prevent a domed top, spread the top of the batter with a spatula, creating a slight dent in the middle and a raised edge. This compensates for the way a cake tends to rise higher in the middle.
Bake for 30-35 minutes, until the cakes are golden, the edges are pulling away from the sides of the pan and the tops are springy to the touch. Let them cool for about 10 minutes before running a knife around the edge of the pans and inverting them onto a wire rack. Cool completely before you frost them.
Makes two 8 or 9 inch layers.
August 07 2010 | leftovers | 29 Comments »
Help, I’ve fallen (behind) and I can’t catch up.
I’ve slid a little further than usual this time-I feel like a large dog (perhaps an abnormally huge shar pei?) going at breakneck speed across a linoleum floor, attempting to turn the corner on a dime and instead sliding sideways, jowls flapping, legs scrambling futilely to get a grip and go the other direction but instead being completely ineffective (but nonetheless exhausting) and letting me slam into the wall. It has been fun – mostly – but yikes, I’m tired.
We arrived home from Vancouver late last night, went straight across to say happy birthday to my 20 year old (!) nephew and eat cake, then came home to prep for a taped show I had to do today and set my alarm for 4:30 (!!) to get up and go cover traffic on the morning show. Since leaving work this afternoon it has been all party planning all the time because tomorrow – in approximately 16 hours – is W’s fifth birthday party. We have a chocolate cake baked downstairs with elaborate plans (and specific instructions) to turn it into a dragon that breathes lava balls using only icing and candies. No pressure.
Yes-W turned five on Wednesday. He’s all mature now, and has decided to graduate from chocolate ice cream to far more sophisticated strawberry. Here’s where I’ll pick up where I left off writing in Vancouver… If you get disoriented, lose all sense of time and aren’t sure what I’m talking about, we’ll be right on the same page.
Ready to jump into the DeLorean? Let’s go.
I’ll preface the news of our ultra-fab digs at the Met in downtown Vancouver with a report of our five-hour wait at the ferry terminal yesterday, having consciously planned to beat the long-weekend rush by waiting to leave Tofino until Tuesday (HA) and having, as usual, rushed to get everything packed/cleaned/remade to get out the door in order to make the ferry (did I mention HA?), having almost run out of gas on the windy, shoulderless road to Port Alberni (where there is a Tim’s!) and having arrived in Nanaimo just after noon. Not only did we miss the 12:15, the 12:50 was full and we didn’t make it onto the 3:10 by THREE CARS (was it the Tim’s? The roadside pee in the bushes?) and had to wait on the hot tarmac for the 4:40, which was delayed due to “extreme heavy traffic”. We left Tofino at 9:20 and didn’t get off the ferry until after 7pm. (Actual distance between Tofino and Vancouver: 201 km or 125 miles.)
We amused ourselves in the (HOT) car by playing with PhotoBooth on my laptop. It started innocently enough with the photo up top. Then it deteriorated to this:
By the time we missed the third ferry, we looked something like this:
First world problems, I know. I just wanted to provide ballast to the fact that the pendulum swung over and we are now in a schwanky hotel room – no, suite – at the Met in downtown Vancouver, wearing thick white robes, sleeping in the most divine king-sized bed (aren’t sheets and pillows the true marker of a great hotel? They don’t get any better than this) and this morning we ate eggs Benedict on cornbread with roasted plum tomatoes for breakfast, after an amuse-bouche of teeny pancakes with plum compote and a teeny BELCH – bacon, egg, lettuce and cheese – sandwich.
W ate Fruit Loops naked. He turned five today. We suspected we’d be on the road at some point this week, and so thought we’d do something special, since in recent months he has taken to asking at random if we can just stay in a hotel tonight mom? One with a swimming pool? No – one with two swimming pools – one big one and one small hot one? If he asks this in public I tell him to finish his Perrier and we’ll discuss it in the Jag (which, by the way, this hotel has for anyone who needs a ride to their morning meeting – anyone need to meet for coffee in downtown Vancouver tomorrow?). He discovered he loves hotels last year when we stayed a night in Banff – the same night he discovered he actually isn’t terrified of swimming pools. I thought maybe we’d stay in Vancouver a couple nights and take him to the aquarium and sleep in a hotel with a swimming pool. What better way to ring out the fifth year of your life, and welcome the sixth?
I can feel myself falling asleep at the keyboard again, so to be continued…
August 06 2010 | leftovers | 14 Comments »
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