Archive for the 'fish' Category
I defy anyone out there to come up with faster food than this. (Cereal doesn’t count.)
OK, I got a head start on the sweet potato, so that can be an exception if it evens things out a little. W and I make banana bread a lot – a recipe that allows W to mash the banana, sugar, oil and eggs in a bowl with a potato masher, then add the dry ingredients, stir them in, scrape it into a pan and bake. The other day it seemed like a waste to have the oven on with only a loaf pan inside, so I threw a sweet potato and head of garlic, wrapped in foil, in for the hour it took to bake the banana bread. (Both will keep just fine in the fridge for up to a week.) Roasted sweet potatoes are best for mashing – they have more flavour and retain all their nutrients (none lost to the cooking water), and they practically peel themselves as they come out of the oven. Seriously – you just pull the skin off with your fingers. So I mashed it with a teeny pat of butter and splash of orange juice, and that was done.
As for the rest – I had some glaze leftover from the Easter ham: equal parts balsamic, brown sugar and grainy mustard – so I picked up a salmon filet to make use of it. Threw it on a foil-lined sheet (only to avoid sticky clean-up after) and poured the marinade overtop while heating the oven to 400F. (Anything will do – basil or sun-dried tomato pesto, teriyaki sauce, even barbecue sauce.) Snapped the ends off the asparagus and stirred 1 tablespoon sugar (white or brown) into 2 tablespoons of soy sauce. Put the salmon in. Drizzled some sesame oil in a hot pan and cranked it on to medium-high. Set the table. (Yes, I have an electric oven. Pity me. And “setting the table” involves W getting 3 forks from the drawer and me pouring 3 waters.) Threw the asparagus in the pan and tossed them around for a minute or two; added the pea pods for another minute or so, turned off the heat and poured over the sugary soy sauce. Sprinkled with sesame seeds. Pulled the salmon out. (Salmon takes 10 minutes per inch of thickness. So usually around 10 minutes.)
Total time lapsed: 8 MINUTES. (I know this because the timer was on. It didn’t just seem fast.)
And battered frozen fish fillets take 25? Where’s the convenience?
One Year Ago: Crabcakes Benedict (with Classic Hollandaise and a lightened version!)
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April 16 2009 | fish and veg | 12 Comments »
Something that can’t be categorized as dessert! Huzzah! (Is it just me who feels as if everything she has eaten in the recent past started out as batter?)
But wait, it is technically cake again.
I taught a class in Red Deer last night, so the boys came up with dinner on their own. (I didn’t ask.) Tonight, fish cakes. My Mom had a chunk of leftover sea bass (yes I know, but it was already cooked, so it would have been worse not to eat it) from a dinner party, and my favourite use of scraps of leftover fish is fish cakes. (Canned salmon works very well too. I haven’t tried sardines yet, but if you’re a fan – why not?) Really all you do is mix the flaked fish with about an equal amount of mashed potatoes (yes you have to mash the potatoes, but come on, it’s easy. You don’t have to worry about getting them all smooth, because you’re stirring fish and stuff into them anyway) and all manner of accessorizing ingredients if you’re so inclined – usually I’ll add some finely chopped green onion, or parsley, chives, red pepper, a bit of mustard… but I had none, and once again this bare cupboard has opened my eyes to something I may not have otherwise tried.
Plain Old Fish Cakes. Nothing but fish, potato, salt and pepper. Once in awhile I am reminded of the pleasure of plain, unadorned food. It doesn’t always need to be jazzed up, spiced and garnished, Thai-inspired or spicy. The simplest of fish cakes allowed us to taste the actual fish and potato (and even oil), rather than serve merely as a vehicle for my culinary whims. Shape the mixture into patties and douse them in a shallow dish of flour, then of beaten egg, then of bread crumbs or Panko (extra-crispy Japanese breadcrumbs) and cook them up in a skillet with a skiff of canola or olive oil. These were so tasty. W even devoured them, which I wasn’t expecting at all. Served with peas, of course.
(Tomorrow I am so ditching this whole no-shop thing and sending Mike for one of those tubs of mixed greens. Come to mama…)
One Year Ago: Roasted Red Pepper and Ricotta Cannelloni
March 18 2009 | fish and vegetarian | 12 Comments »
I know, these could not sound less appetizing. They might have come straight from the 60s, when party food tended toward gellied, deviled, Spammy, whipped canapé things. And I’m not going to tell you to go on the Sardine Diet (which actually is a thing, believe it or not), but they are very tasty, and I will make a case for them:
To sum: my Dad has been pestering me to read a new(ish) book written by Taras Grescoe called Bottomfeeder: How to Eat Ethically in a World of Vanishing Seafood. His main point is that we would all be healthier and fish stocks in better shape if we ate lower on the food chain – that is the bottom-feeders – small fish and crustaceans such as sardines, anchovies, mackerel, squid and octopus whose stocks are thriving in the absence of bigger fish – predators such as tuna, cod and shark, which are being overfished. (In fact, their populations are depleting in a big way.) It’s also the larger predatory fish that have been found to be higher in mercury, which tends to accumulate to some degree in all fish but especially in shark, swordfish, tuna (particularly albacore), escolar, marlin and orange roughy, which absorb mercury from the prey they eat, causing it to become more concentrated as it moves further up the food chain.
So the bottomfeeders – and particularly the 11 or so species that are packaged as sardines (herring, smelt, pilchard, et al.) and feed on algae and other green stuff – are the best for us nutritionally and environmentally. Plus they’re cheap. Brisling sardines (King Oscar cans them) are Norweigan sardines that are particularly small and benign – you can generally tell the fishiness of sardines by their size and how badly roughed up they are when you open the can – one I picked up at the dollar store from Portugal contained about 3 mangled fish, and the Mediterranean-style brisling sardines I bought at the grocery store in the same sized can contained 12 perfectly formed wee silver fish. Mediterranean-style means they were packed in olive oil with olives, garlic, herbs and red pepper, and were phenomenal mashed with a bit of mayo, grated onion and some snipped parsley, spread on toast, cut into triangles and toasted again, inspired by the Sardine Puffs I found on Epicurious. (It won’t produce 120 appetizers, by the way.) Sardines are particularly high in omega 3 fatty acids and are of course packed with everything else that makes fish so good for you – try using a can or two in your next tuna casserole. They really aren’t any fishier than tuna. Sardines on toast is also popular, and my Grandad used to eat sardine sandwiches dipped in apple cider vinegar – his 94 year old taste buds needed some extra stimulus, I guess.
In other news, I’m down 10 lbs as of this morning. (According to my home scale, which I think I’ll stick to for now in order to maintain some sort of continuity.) Ten pounds isn’t as visually significant as it sounds on an almost 6′ frame – I still look the same, but feel better, my jeans are a bit less strained, and it’s nice to have my freighter moving in the right direction. (Maybe in doing so I’ll go from freighter to streamliner?) And it’s a thrilling feeling to know that I can lose ten, because that means I can lose the next. And the next. And it really is up to me. And it’s not as massive a deal as it was when I fretted, uncomfortably in my skin, about having to lose it – you get to a point where it’s just easier to do something about it than to not.
Speaking of my Grandad, he used to have a saying (many actually, as I’m sure most Grandads do, but this one particularly stuck): Life is hard by the yard - by the inch it’s a cinch. When you’re staring down the barrel of 100 pounds to lose it can be more than a little daunting, and easy to put off until tomorrow, or Monday, or after your birthday party, knowing that it’s going to take a really long time to get where you’re going. But imagine if you started inching in that direction a year ago? It’s easy to get caught up in the desire for immediate gratification, and sucks when you choose a long walk rather than a lie on the couch and yet come home to the exact same reflection in the mirror, but that’s how it works. So I break up the war into smaller battles: the first 10 (which is always the quickest to go, I’m sad to say), and now 8 left before I see that needle dip below 200 again, at which point I’ll maybe have a cupcake and a latte while I ponder my next destination.
January 14 2009 | appetizers and fish | 25 Comments »
Here’s something that for all intents and purposes shouldn’t have a name, but when I go to post it I have to call it something.
We had an all-day meeting going over scripts/recipes/details of It’s Just Food, which we start shooting again in 6 weeks. (Gulp.) I was done around 5:30, but Mike ran into icy gridlock on the way to pick me up, and W had a five-alarm meltdown upon arriving back home and being wrestled out of his car seat (he had just fallen asleep), so by the time we got in the door it was after 7. Fortunately, I had an oh-so-attractive Ziploc baggie of salmon chunks tucked under my arm; leftovers from the event I cooked for on Saturday (at Willow Park, which owns the production company that does the TV show, which is where the offices are). I had this ambitous idea to make a noodle salad with the edamame I have in the freezer, but when I walked in the door and discovered there was still some cooked brown rice in the fridge; sold.
A hot skillet with a bit of butter and sesame oil, cold rice, a few stalks of chopped broccolini which I thrust into a bit of boiling water for a few minutes just to get it going, and some already cooked salmon chunks. A drizzle of soy sauce at the end and truthfully I thought it wouldn’t do much but fill the void, but it was pretty damn delicious. (W did not agree and ate pita pizza.)
The rosemary twists I didn’t make today; they were a test for a photo for an article for Dogs in Canada magazine (a crunchy treat that’s just as yummy for humans as for dogs) and they just happened to be on the bread box while I was cooking up the rice thingy. And it occurred to me that it might make a nice addition to cheese plates or served with wine this holiday season.
Rosemary-Parmesan Twists
These crunchy bread sticks are quick to make and can be flavoured with almost anything; serve them in a tall glass or vase alongside a cheese platter, or tuck them into lunch boxes. I used rosemary and Parmesan cheese, but try any of the suggested flavourings or a combination of them, or experiment with your own additions.
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
flavourings: 1/4 cup Parmesan cheese, 2 Tbsp. fresh rosemary, 1 Tbsp. pesto, 1/4 cup sun dried tomatoes (use their oil in place of the oil below), 1/4 cup pitted black olives, 1/2 cup grated sharp cheese, 1/4 cup crumbled blue cheese, 1/4-1/2 cup finely chopped nuts, 1 crushed garlic clove
3 Tbsp. canola or olive oil
1/2-3/4 cup water or milk
Coarse salt, for sprinkling (optional)
Preheat oven to 400°F.
Combine the flour, baking powder and salt in the bowl of a food processor and pulse to combine. Add any flavourings you like and pulse until chopped and blended in with the remaining ingredients. Add the oil and pulse until the mixture resembles coarse meal. (Alternatively, blend everything together in a bowl with a spatula or whisk.)
With the machine running, pour 1/2 cup of cold water or milk through the feed tube and pulse, adding extra if you need it until the dough starts to come together. This will depend on your flour and what flavourings you added; I usually need 1/2 cup plus about 2 Tbsp. of liquid.
Tip the dough out onto a lightly floured surface, gather it into a ball and let it rest for about 10 minutes. Roll the dough out about 1/4” thick, sprinkle it with salt (if you like), and roll lightly to help the salt adhere. Cut into 1/4”-1/2” wide strips as long or short as you like, then twist the strips and place them on an ungreased baking sheet, pressing the ends lightly onto the sheet if they start to unravel. Bake for 12-15 minutes, or until golden.
Makes about 2 dozen breadsticks.
Per stick: 51 calories, 1.8 g total fat (0.3 g saturated fat, 1.3 g monounsaturated fat, 0.2 g polyunsaturated fat), 1.2 g protein, 7.7 g carbohydrate, 0 mg cholesterol, 0.8 g fiber. 31% calories from fat
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December 15 2008 | appetizers and fish and grains and one dish and snacks | 4 Comments »
Packing the house my parents have lived in for 20 years has unearthed some interesting things. Among them two enormous cans of tuna, purchased in preparation for the then-impending SARS pandemic three years ago. We have come to refer to them as the SARS Tuna in the Basement. I’m talking about those cans so big you could use one as a stool or a bass drum or something. We opened one up about a year ago and it fed all of our respective families for about a week. So a few days ago when we were all there packing, we opened another up and made sandwiches. The plan was to turn the rest into antipasto, but it was like a bunch of clowns in a Volkswagen – it kept coming out, more and more, and I ended up with a 1L yogurt container of it too.
So I went ahead and made a real-life tuna noodle casserole. I was going to do the tinned mushroom soup thing, but ended up morphing recipes from Epicurious and Joy of Cooking; serendipitously my parents just unloaded two half-full bottles of sherry on me as well. (Generally the only thing I use sherry for is mushroom soup, and this isn’t too far off.)
Tuna Noodle Casserole
You’ll need 3 cups of liquid for this quantity, but it doesn’t matter how much of it is milk, or stock, or anything else you like. In fact, you could reduce the flour to about a tablespoon and add a tin of mushroom soup and another tin and a half of milk, if you want to do the tinned soup thing.
1 Tbsp. canola or olive oil (or the drained oil from your tuna)
1-2 Tbsp. butter
1 small onion, finely chopped
3 cups sliced mushrooms
salt & pepper
2-4 Tbsp. sherry
1/4 cup flour
2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 cup milk
3 cups curly wide egg noodles
1-2 cans tuna in water, broth or oil, drained
1 1/2 cups fresh bread crumbs (I whizzed 3 small slices of whole wheat bread)
1 cup grated old cheddar
2 Tbsp. grated Parmesan cheese
Preheat oven to 375°F and butter a shallow baking dish.
Heat oil and butter in a large skillet set over medium heat. Add the onions and sauté for a few minutes, until soft. Add the mushrooms and some salt and pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, until they give off their liquid. Add the sherry and cook until most of the liquid has cooked off.
Add the flour and stir until the mushrooms are well coated (this will help prevent lumps); add the stock and milk and stir (or whisk) until it bubbles, then once it is boiling cook for a full minute, to reach the flour’s full thickening potential.
Meanwhile, cook the noodles in a big pot of water. Drain them and put them into the bottom of the baking dish. Stir the tuna into the mushroom sauce and pour it overtop.
Toss together (or pulse in the food processor) the bread crumbs and cheeses and sprinkle them evenly over the top. Bake for 30 minutes, until golden, crisp and bubbly. Serves 6.
I made two, actually, since I had the tuna for it; the second is to give away to an unsuspecting person tomorrow. Tomorrow would have been my friend R’s 37th birthday, and her (twin) sister requested that we all spread some kindness in her memory. Random acts, she said; I understand that baking a casserole is not exactly random, but I don’t think she’ll mind premeditated acts of kindness. She loves the thought of people all over the world doing nice things for others in her memory. Because what else is there to do? (One friend, who is in Vegas, promised to find a platform/perch/sidewalk corner and sing “Feeling Groovy” as loud and as joyful as she could. I wish I could do this, but I’m afraid that a: I wouldn’t have the guts, and b: me singing in public would be more a random act of violence than of kindness.)
The idea reminds me of a 10 year old girl named Laura who around the same time last year launched a project called Twenty Five Days to Make a Difference in memory of her Grandpa, who (also) died of brain cancer.
So if the opportunity to do a little (or big) something nice for someone tomorrow presents itself, do it, and pass it on.
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September 02 2008 | fish and freezable and one dish | 6 Comments »
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