I don’t dislike broccoli. But still, I buy it because I feel like I should, and every time it sits in my fridge until it starts to turn yellow. Then I end up making broccoli soup or classy chicken (an old Best of Bridge casserole Mike and my Dad love composed of broccoli, chicken, mushroom soup, curry powder and grated cheese) in an attempt to not waste it. Tonight was one of those nights, so with this soup we kicked off “Clean-Out-the-Fridge-Before-Leaving-Town-Week”. I’m sure you celebrate this or a similar occasion at least once per summer.

I can’t hardly believe it’s already almost time to head to Tofino. (While our Hells Angels friends house-sit with their Rotweillers, of course.) Tomorrow is the CBC’s annual Stampede pancake breakfast; Friday is parade day. Where did July come from? So it’s time to stop grocery shopping and use up what we have, which always results in interesting/creative dinners.

Broccoli soup is easy: hack up the broccoli and simmer it (with a chopped onion, if you have the gumption) with some chicken or veg stock. The ratios don’t really matter - I used enough broth to come halfway up the pot of broccoli. Simmer/steam until the broccoli is very tender, then puree it with a hand-held immersion blender right in the pot, or transfer to a blender to puree. Add a handful of grated old cheddar and stir until it melts, and a splash of half and half, if you like - it’s amazing what even a quarter cup to finish (and this was a big head of broccoli and 1L stock) will do to the resulting texture. And that’s it.

This pan bread is like a giant biscuit, except that the dough is easily stirred together using canola oil instead of cutting in any butter. I bake mine in my ever-present cast iron skillet; after caramelizing the onions, you can just scrape the batter over and bake it in the oven. If you don’t have an ovenproof skillet, you could do it almost as easily in a cake pan or pie plate. This caramelized onion version is fantastic with chili. It does the same duty as a focaccia in far less time, and no kneading.

Like any biscuit the dough takes additions well; fresh herbs would be good, or grated cheese, or chilies. To make a sweet (but not too sweet) version, caramelize sliced apples or pears in the pan, with or without a squirt of honey or maple syrup, and add a shake of cinnamon to the batter.

Upside-down Caramelized Onion Pan Bread

a drizzle of oil and perhaps a bit of butter
2 large onions, cut in half and thinly sliced
2 cups all-purpose flour, or half all-purpose, half whole wheat
1 Tbsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt
1 cup milk
1/4 cup canola oil
1 large egg

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

In a large ovenproof skillet set over medium heat, melt the butter with the oil. Sauté the onions for about 15 minutes, until they are soft and golden. Spread the onions over the bottom of the pan and take it off the heat, or spread them into an 8″ or 9″ round cake pan or pie plate that has been sprayed with nonstick spray.

In a medium bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, and salt. In a small bowl, stir together the milk, oil, and egg. Add the milk mixture to the flour mixture and stir until just blended.

Spread the batter over the onions and bake for 35-40 minutes, until pale golden around the edges, cracked on top, and springy to the touch.

Cut into wedges or squares and serve warm.

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This afternoon was M & A’s awesome second annual Canada Day party, a potluck, which I think needs to come back into vogue.

On the menu: pork kebabs with onions and mushrooms, beef kebabs, D’s Mom’s famous curried chicken, potatoes and chick peas, grilled veg, tomato and pancetta panzanella salad, slivered snow peas with wasabi cream cheese and smoked salmon, noodle salad, and an array of dips, snacks and cupcakes arranged like a giant flag with a beaver in the middle (if you looked at it long enough, you could see it).

My contribution was Maple Butter Tarts (because butter tarts are the most fantastic Canadian food creation ever) and Nanaimo Bars (second most fantastic). OK, the Nanaimo bars got half eaten and then put in the freezer for our drive to Tofino before we left for the party. I have an unnatural infatuation with Nanaimo bars. I go to events in the hopes that they will show up on platters of dainties. Unfortunately, they aren’t any less delicious frozen, and in fact I’ve developed a particular taste for them that way. When I was a kid I ate a whole panful of Nanaimo bars, chunk by chunk, from the freezer, and when I was found out I had to clean my sisters’ rooms for two weeks. It was totally worth it.

This was probably the most difficult recipe I’ve ever had to lighten. These Nanaimo bars have less than half the fat of a traditional one; if you want to go whole hog, here’s a recipe.

Nanaimo Bars

For the record, these originated in Nanaimo, BC, although you’ll see versions in US cookbooks labeled “New York Slice”. Custard powder can be found in tins alongside the pudding at the grocery store.

Base:
1/4 cup packed brown sugar
1/4 cup cocoa
3-4 Tbsp. butter
3 Tbsp. corn syrup
1 large egg
1 tsp. vanilla
2 cups graham wafer crumbs
1/3 cup shredded coconut
pinch salt

Filling:
3-4 Tbsp. butter, softened
3 Tbsp. custard powder
2 cups icing sugar
2 Tbsp. milk
1 tsp. vanilla

Topping:
1 cup chocolate chips or chopped semisweet chocolate

In the bowl of a double boiler or a medium stainless steel bowl, combine the brown sugar, cocoa, butter and corn syrup. Stir in the egg and set over a pot of simmering water; whisk until the mixture melts and thickens slightly. Remove from heat and stir in the vanilla, graham crumbs, coconut and salt.

Press the mixture firmly into the bottom of an ungreased 8” x 8” pan and pop it in the freezer while making the filling.

In a medium bowl, beat butter, custard powder, icing sugar, milk and vanilla until creamy and smooth, adding a few extra drops of milk if necessary until you have a spreadable frosting. Spread over the base. Return to the freezer or fridge to chill until firm before covering with chocolate.

Melt chocolate in a medium bowl set over hot water, or on medium power in the microwave. Stir until smooth and spread over the filling. Refrigerate until well chilled and firm. These are easiest to cut at room temperature, using a small, sharp, serrated knife, so pull them out of the fridge and set them on the countertop for about ½ hour before you plan to eat them.

Makes 20 bars.

Per Bar: 213 calories, 8.3 g fat (4.8 g saturated fat, 2.3 g monounsaturated fat, 0.9 g polyunsaturated fat), 33.8 g carbohydrates, 21 mg cholesterol, 2 g protein, 1.6 g fiber. 34% calories from fat

I’ve made butter tart squares many a time before (far easier than fussing with pastry dough to make tarts) but this is the first time I added maple. The girl who ate the last square at the party this afternoon (not knowing I was right behind her and had made them) said: “OMG! O. M. G. OMG!!” Just like that. I didn’t realize you could actually speak in text message abbreviation.

(Low-fat) Butter Tart Squares

Base:
1/4 cup butter, softened
1/4 cup packed brown sugar
1 cup all-purpose flour
pinch salt

Topping:
1 cup packed brown sugar
1 Tbsp. all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp. baking powder
pinch salt
1/3 cup pure maple syrup
2 large eggs
1 tsp. vanilla
3/4 cup raisins or currants (if you want to be really authentic)
1/3 cup chopped pecans

Preheat oven to 350°F.

In a medium bowl, stir together the butter and brown sugar until creamy. Add flour and salt and stir until well combined and crumbly.

Press into the bottom of an 8” x 8” pan that has been sprayed with nonstick spray. Bake for 8-10 minutes, until just barely golden around the edges.

Using the same bowl (no need to wash it), combine the brown sugar, flour, baking powder and salt. Add the eggs, maple syrup and vanilla and stir until well blended and smooth. Stir in the raisins and pecans.

Pour over the base and return to the oven for 25–30 minutes, until golden and bubbly around the edges but still slightly jiggly in the middle. The topping will puff up a bit as it bakes and then settle again when you remove it from the oven. Cool completely in the pan on a wire rack.

Makes 16 squares.

Per Square: 194 calories, 5.1 g fat (2.1 g saturated fat, 2 g monounsaturated fat, 0.6 g polyunsaturated fat), 36.2 g carbohydrates, 34.7 mg cholesterol, 2.2 g protein, 1 g fiber. 23% calories from fat

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Because:

a) it’s far too hot to cook

b) I just didn’t want to

3) I have 2 articles to finish tonight, plus a blog post

d) we’ve had a $25 Swiss Chalet gift card since Christmas, and I was determined not to let it expire

5) SC is one of the few places I don’t feel sheepish walking into with a 2 year old

6) they have the best fries in the world, especially if you ditch the Chalet sauce (I never understood the appeal) and ask for gravy and sour cream instead to make this delicious but slightly grotesque Swiss Chalet poutine (with sour cream instead of curds - hey, it works on a baked potato)

But half a dinnerplateful is too many, so I got a spinach salad and we shared Mike’s.

We used to go to Swiss Chalet when I was a kid, and were allowed to order a dessert that was under a dollar. A decade or so later it was the place Mike’s Nana brought the extended family to when she wanted to treat us all to a real special restaurant dinner. (Those were the days when the sundes were a dollar and came in little frosty stainless steel dishes and the waitresses wore those little Swiss blouses with the poufy off-the-shoulder sleeves.)

Besides the uniforms and decor it (thankfully) hasn’t changed much; we usually go once a year, for the Festive Special (I’ll do anything for a free Toblerone) but the air conditioning was extremely motivating. I think we still had at least 30 years on everyone in the place.

But now I have nothing to offer. The spinach salad was quite good though - baby spinach leaves, canned Mandarin orange segments, dried cranberries and slivered purple onion. I’d add toasted sliced almonds, but I’m sure that raises nut allergy issues in a large chain. It had a poppy seed dressing, which you can buy or make by shaking up equal parts canola oil and white wine vinegar, half as much poppy seeds, and a pinch of salt, pepper and sugar or honey.

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I myself feel a little superheroic for having made Danish pastry from scratch, on a weekend when the temperature went over 30 degrees (and stayed close to 30 up until midnight). Why on earth would I attempt buttery, flaky Danish pastry from scratch on the last weekend of June?

Because I went ahead and joined a group called The Daring Bakers, the activities of whom I have caught glimpses of here and there as I trip through food blogs. The group has a collective challenge every month - something baked that everyone must do on the same day and post on their blog. It looked like fun. I thought; I have to cook every day anyway, why not have someone choose something for me once a month? How hard could it be?

The very first month of my membership the challenge is making and working with yeasted laminated dough. (Danish dough is in the butter-laminated or layered dough family with puff pastry being the ultimate; Danish dough is sweet and is yeast-leavened, whereas puff pastry is not.) I fancy myself a relatively good baker; I couldn’t really imagine any challenge being too far out of my league. But puff pastry is something I’ve never made from scratch before. Why would I when you can buy a frozen block of it for $3?

Now, with the pressure on and an audience of hundreds of bakers watching, I didn’t want to mess up on my first go. We cannot stray from the recipe save for lemon zest instead of orange, and there is the option to make our own filling (which I took - an apple filling would be delicious but seemed blasphemous at almost the height of summer). As you know I am notorious for taking off in another direction while following a recipe, so a couple things tripped me up:

- it says the dough makes two Danish, but it doesn’t specify anywhere to divide the dough into two pieces; I did anyway

- when instructing the baker to cut 5″ slits an inch apart down the sides of the dough it doesn’t mention doing so on an angle; I thought I should, but didn’t want to blow it. Turns out I should have - the first braid didn’t have “flaps” of dough on the ends to fold up and down and trap the filling, but I cut them on an angle the second time and it turned out much neater

- the egg wash calls for an egg and an egg yolk; just the beaten egg was far more than enough to brush over two Danish, so I didn’t bother adding a yolk too

My berry filling was simple - about 2 cups of fresh or frozen berries and 3/4 cup sugar, and a squeeze (about a tablespoon) of lemon juice - simmer on the stove, mashing with a spoon, until it simmers and thickens a bit, and the mixture is jamlike. Cool completely. Mine was a bit juicy. I knew this, but pushing better judgement aside, I attempted to spoon out the solids and lay them along the middle of my quickly melting pastry. The pool of crimson juice didn’t waste any time spreading as I attempted to eloquently alternate the flaps, and it sat there and bled out for 2 hours as it proofed. Despite this, it turned out wonderfully, and the burnt juice just wiped right off the Silpat mat.

For the other, I thought I’d make use of a small jar of spiced fig caramel I bought awhile ago from The Girl and the Fig, but obviously didn’t want to stuff a cup of caramel into the braid for moral reasons. So I figured goat cheese crumbled in might make a good experiment. After all, so many Danish are stuffed with sweetened cream cheese, and figs go brilliantly with goat cheese, and there’s no need to sweeten the goat cheese in the company of all that caramel. (I do have a recipe for fig caramel, so if you love the idea of it, like I did, here you go. Don’t make it now though; save it for the fall, or to make a stash of when you need all those little holiday gifts for so many people.)

Spiced Fig and Orange Caramel

4-5 dried figs, stems removed and finely chopped
3/4 c. sugar
1/2 c. water
zest and juice of an orange
1/2 c. whipping cream
pinch cinnamon (optional)
pinch allspice (optional)

In a small saucepan, cover the figs with water or orange juice and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Simmer for about 10 minutes, until the figs are very soft and mushy. Drain off any excess liquid and set aside while you make the caramel.

In a heavy medium saucepan, stir together the sugar and water and set over medium heat. Stir until the sugar dissolves, then bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook, without stirring, for about 8 minutes or until the mixture is a deep amber colour. Occasionally swirl the pan and brush the sides down with a pastry brush dipped in cold water.

Carefully add the orange zest, juice, whipping cream and spices; step back, as the mixture will bubble and spit. Turn down the heat to low and whisk until smooth. Stir in the figs and cool completely.

Makes about 1 ½ cups. Store in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks; rewarm on the stove or in the microwave.

Fortunately we were going to watch the European soccer final today, then to a friend’s house for dinner tonight (steak, orzo salad, caramelized onion focaccia, cookies and a giant bowl of cherries for dessert) so I had the opportunity to pawn them both off. Unfortunately, I started to shape my braids at 9 and was not finished until 10 - the rectangles of dough just didn’t want to be any bigger than a piece of 8 1/2″ x 11″ looseleaf. Every time I rolled over the dough it would shyly pull back. If it does this, just let the dough relax for awhile, and try again in about 10 minutes. Eventually you’ll be able to coax it out to a large enough rectangle.

So by noon, the braids were just finishing up their 2 hour proofing and didn’t have time to bake before going to watch the game, so they had to go with us and bake there. Not a big deal, except that delicate, buttery puff pastry does not like to travel in a hot car at 30 degrees, and it particularly does not like it when I make Mike pull over and hold the tray while I go buy vintage polka-dot glasses and an old sunburst juice pitcher at a garage sale.

But, the braid. Check out this recipe - when I printed it out to take down to the kitchen with me, it took three full pages. But it was worth the effort, and I will likely make it again. Maybe when the temperature drops below 20.

I mean, how cool is this - I made Danish pastry from scratch! I’m so glad they made me.

Danish Braid from Sherry Yard’s The Secrets of Baking

Danish Dough
Makes 2-1/2 pounds dough

For the dough (Detrempe)
1 ounce fresh yeast or 1 tablespoon active dry yeast
1/2 cup whole milk
1/3 cup sugar
Zest of 1 orange, finely grated - I used a lemon, but will likely omit both next time
3/4 teaspoon ground cardamom
1-1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/2 vanilla bean, split and scraped
2 large eggs, chilled
1/4 cup fresh orange juice
3-1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt

For the butter block (Beurrage)
1/2 pound (2 sticks) cold unsalted butter
1/4 cup all-purpose flour

Combine the yeast and milk in the bowl of a mixer fitted with the paddle attachment and mix on low speed. Slowly add sugar, orange zest, cardamom, vanilla extract, vanilla seeds, eggs, and orange juice. Mix well. Change to the dough hook and add the salt with the flour, 1 cup at a time, increasing speed to medium as the flour is incorporated. Knead the dough for about 5 minutes, or until smooth. You may need to add a little more flour if it is sticky. Transfer dough to a lightly floured baking sheet and cover with plastic wrap. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.

Without a standing mixer: Combine yeast and milk in a bowl with a hand mixer on low speed or a whisk. Add sugar, orange zest, cardamom, vanilla extract, vanilla seeds, eggs, and orange juice and mix well. Sift flour and salt on your working surface and make a fountain. Make sure that the “walls” of your fountain are thick and even. Pour the liquid in the middle of the fountain. With your fingertips, mix the liquid and the flour starting from the middle of the fountain, slowly working towards the edges. When the ingredients have been incorporated start kneading the dough with the heel of your hands until it becomes smooth and easy to work with, around 5 to 7 minutes. You might need to add more flour if the dough is sticky.

Combine butter and flour in the bowl of a mixer fitted with a paddle attachment and beat on medium speed for 1 minute. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and the paddle and then beat for 1 minute more, or until smooth and lump free. Set aside at room temperature.

After the detrempe has chilled 30 minutes, turn it out onto a lightly floured surface. Roll the dough into a rectangle approximately 18 x 13 inches and ¼ inch thick. The dough may be sticky, so keep dusting it lightly with flour. Spread the butter evenly over the center and right thirds of the dough. Fold the left edge of the detrempe to the right, covering half of the butter. Fold the right third of the rectangle over the center third. The first turn has now been completed. Mark the dough by poking it with your finger to keep track of your turns, or use a sticky and keep a tally. Place the dough on a baking sheet, wrap it in plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 30 minutes.

Place the dough lengthwise on a floured work surface. The open ends should be to your right and left. Roll the dough into another approximately 13 x 18 inch, ¼-inch-thick rectangle. Again, fold the left third of the rectangle over the center third and the right third over the center third. No additional butter will be added as it is already in the dough. The second turn has now been completed. Refrigerate the dough for 30 minutes.

Roll out, turn, and refrigerate the dough two more times, for a total of four single turns. Make sure you are keeping track of your turns. Refrigerate the dough after the final turn for at least 5 hours or overnight. The Danish dough is now ready to be used. If you will not be using the dough within 24 hours, freeze it. To do this, roll the dough out to about 1 inch in thickness, wrap tightly in plastic wrap, and freeze. Defrost the dough slowly in the refrigerator for easiest handling. Danish dough will keep in the freezer for up to 1 month.

Apple Filling
Makes enough for two braids

4 Fuji or other apples, peeled, cored, and cut into ¼-inch pieces
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 vanilla bean, split and scraped
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
4 tablespoons unsalted butter

Toss all ingredients except butter in a large bowl. Melt the butter in a sauté pan over medium heat until slightly nutty in color, about 6 - 8 minutes. Then add the apple mixture and sauté until apples are softened and caramelized, 10 to 15 minutes. If you’ve chosen Fujis, the apples will be caramelized, but have still retained their shape. Pour the cooked apples onto a baking sheet to cool completely before forming the braid. (If making ahead, cool to room temperature, seal, and refrigerate.) They will cool faster when spread in a thin layer over the surface of the sheet. After they have cooled, the filling can be stored in the refrigerator for up to 3 days. Left over filling can be used as an ice cream topping, for muffins, cheesecake, or other pastries.

Danish Braid
Makes 2 large braids

1 recipe Danish Dough
2 cups apple filling, jam, or preserves

For the egg wash: 1 large egg, plus 1 large egg yolk

1. Line a baking sheet with a silicone mat or parchment paper. On a lightly floured surface, roll the Danish Dough into a 15 x 20-inch rectangle, ¼ inch thick. If the dough seems elastic and shrinks back when rolled, let it rest for a few minutes, then roll again. Place the dough on the baking sheet.

2. Along one long side of the pastry make parallel, 5-inch-long cuts with a knife or rolling pastry wheel, each about 1 inch apart. Repeat on the opposite side, making sure to line up the cuts with those you’ve already made.

3. Spoon the filling you’ve chosen to fill your braid down the center of the rectangle. Starting with the top and bottom “flaps”, fold the top flap down over the filling to cover. Next, fold the bottom “flap” up to cover filling. This helps keep the braid neat and helps to hold in the filling. Now begin folding the cut side strips of dough over the filling, alternating first left, then right, left, right, until finished. Trim any excess dough and tuck in the ends. Whisk together the whole egg and yolk in a bowl and with a pastry brush, lightly coat the braid.

Proofing and Baking

1. Spray nonstick spray onto a piece of plastic wrap, and place over the braid. Proof at room temperature or, if possible, in a controlled 90 degree F environment for about 2 hours, or until doubled in volume and light to the touch.

2. Near the end of proofing, preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Position a rack in the center of the oven.

3. Bake for 10 minutes, then rotate the pan so that the side of the braid previously in the back of the oven is now in the front. Lower the oven temperature to 350 degrees F, and bake about 15-20 minutes more, or until golden brown. Cool and serve the braid either still warm from the oven or at room temperature. The cooled braid can be wrapped airtight and stored in the refrigerator for up to 2 days, or freeze for 1 month.

Yes, it tastes exactly like it looks.
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Last week, I was driving with my 10 year old niece and she asked me what my favourite food was. After I stopped laughing at the idea of having to choose just one (I sometimes get panicky at the thought of how much great food there is to eat and only so many hours in a day and months in a year and kilometres on the elliptical trainer - seriously) she countered with favourite type of food. Unable to choose one ethnicity (I’ve always disagreed with the use of that term in relation to food anyway - isn’t all food ethnic? Shouldn’t it more appropriately be “exotic” or “the food that they eat a lot of in Greece” or whatever?) I had to answer: anything with melted cheese on it.

I think I’m still OK with my answer.

Pizza is just always a good thing. I bought a couple portobello mushrooms a few days ago with the intention of making portobello burgers (and because ever since we had those portobello bison burgers, Mike has been asking for seconds) and then remembered today that they make a pretty good support system for personal-size pizzas, too.

As with any pizza, you can put whatever you like on these. You scrape out the gills and bake or grill them first, just to tenderize them and get rid of some of the excess liquid; I have heard of a method where you weigh the mushrooms down as you bake them in order to press out as much liquid as possible - the result is a sort of leathery-textured compact mushroom. You could do this in the oven on a baking sheet with another sheet and perhaps a pan set on top, or you could even cook them in a panini grill, if you happen to have one kicking around.

I didn’t have much in the way of potential pizza toppings around - except mushrooms - but do always keep a jar of Classico extra garlic bruschetta on the shelf. No one pays me to say this. I was actually at a housewarming and asked where they got the bruschetta, and my friend sheepishly admitted it was a $3 jar of Classico. The stuff is good, and has only the usual bruschetta ingredients - nothing unpronouncable. It’s great for an emergency appetizer with baguette, or on top of pasta with crumbled feta cheese, and maybe some shrimp from the freezer.

Tonight I spooned some over the mushrooms, draining most of the liquid off the spoon, and topped them with mozzarella. So easy. And perfect to do in your toaster oven or grill so as to not heat up the house.

Portobello Pizzas with Tomato Bruschetta

2 portobello mushroom caps
1 clove garlic, crushed
olive or canola oil
1/3 cup (ish) chunky tomato bruschetta
grated mozzarella cheese

Preheat the oven to 350°F or your grill to medium.

Remove the mushroom stems and scrape the gills out with a spoon - only because they tend to be bitter. Stir the garlic into the oil and brush it all over the mushroom caps - both sides.

Place the mushroom caps bowl-side up on a baking sheet and bake (or grill) for 8-10 minutes, until tender. Take them out of the oven and increase the oven temperature to 450°F, or turn up your grill a bit.

Top your mushrooms with the bruschetta and cheese. Bake (or grill, with the lid closed) for 5-10 minutes, until the cheese melts.

Serves 2 (recipe doubles or triples easily)

And see? The pizzas are even sturdy enough to eat out of hand, just like the real thing.

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Mostly they were tomato and/or onion or salmon sandwiches on buttered bread, which he would dip into a shallow bowl of vinegar - he said when you got to be ninety, your tastebuds needed a little help. Tonights’ were made with roasted Mediterranean chicken from the deli, with some havarti, tomatoes, lettuce, light mayo and lots of pepper; every time I have a sandwich like this, which seems too boring to bother with, I remember how much I love them, especially on grainy bread.

W asked for Raisin Bran again. (I’m glad he likes it; when I was a kid, all we would get was Raisin Bran, Cheerios, Shreddies and Muffets, and I fantasized about Cap’n Crunch and Froot Loops and Corn Pops, which we only got little boxes of when we went camping. When we were at Grandma’s though, she’d have Harvest Crunch, which was the best, even though she made us cut it with Special K. To this day it has to be Special K and Harvest Crunch.)

While I have your attention, I’d like to know, please, what is going on with my rhubarb. How is it that I am completely and utterly unable to successfully grow what is essentially a weed that requires no maintenance nor a green thumb? My neighbor pulled out an unwanted rhubarb plant last year, and the thing thrived in the back alley beside the garbage bin, roots fully exposed, for an entire season. And here mine, planted nicely beside the deck in semi-sun and the protective bosom of a loving family, refuses to thrive. The stalks are pencil-thin (and pencil-long), depressed looking, and mostly green. (I’ve also killed my basil, but my peas seem to be doing very well.) Down the alley there is a plant almost as tall as me with leaves you could wear as a sarong. Up the hill, A’s rhubarb is lovely and full, thick as three-ply celery and ruby red, and you can pick more than you can carry without making the slightest dent in one plant. So long as she allows access to her rhubarb everything will be OK, but I’d still like to pick my own outside my back door.

Anyone?

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Or as someone slightly more eloquent might say, Croque Monsieur.

I love it when dinners come about like this: last week, Pierre wrote about Mr. Crunchy in his food column in Swerve; generally I would glaze over a story about grilled ham & cheese (as you may very well be doing right now), but I like Pierre. Not a whole lot must have sunk in except the name of said sandwich, because tonight I was still under the impression that a Croque Monsieur was ham & cheese dipped in egg and fried (actually a Monte Cristo). I had the kids, and all they wanted to eat was grilled cheese. But my sister was coming home from work to eat dinner with us, and I didn’t want to feed her a plain old grilled cheese. I found a package of ham I had forgotten I bought, and remembered Mr. Crunch.

Searching around, I found a lot of CM (or MC) recipes that were simply ham & cheese, and then a Barefoot Contessa recipe as well as one credited to some café in Paris (if I ever went to Paris, I might know the place; sadly all my dineros go to accountants and dentists and other non-glamorous places… and a new roof, furnace, washer and dryer and gas stove are on my to-spend list before trips) that was made of ham & gruyère, with a gruyère cheese sauce poured overtop and broiled. It’s sort of part fondue, part Welsh Rarebit (if you made it with some ale and mustard and Worcestershire).

I never have gruyère. I had gruyère! So I couldn’t really not make it, could I?

So I dismissed all the way-too-elaborate instructions to broil the bread, spread with mustard (and sometimes crème fraîche), top with cheese and ham and another slice of bread, broil again, and then top with the cheese sauce and broil - I just made a grilled ham and cheese with gruyère, made the cheese sauce (seriously the easiest thing in the world - melt 2 Tbsp. butter or oil in a pan with 3 Tbsp. flour, whisk until melted, whisk in 2 cups of milk, heat until it bubbles, and stir in a couple handfuls of grated cheese), poured it overtop of the sandwiches and ran it under the broiler for two minutes.

For future reference, a Croque Monsieur with a fried egg on top is a Croque Madame. (Ms. Crunch.) Mike would have loved this, like he’s favourite Vera’s fried-egg burger in Vancouver, but said he’d better not.

We balanced Mr. Crunch out with a green salad and a big bowl of Ichiban salad, which my sister got all excited over. The best way I know of to eat my cabbage.

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As you may have guessed, dinner wasn’t at home tonight.

I was cooking for a private event at Willow Park, a wine tasting with food paired at each station. The satay, meatballs and salmon were nothing new, but I hadn’t made gougères before. Gougères are choux pastry - cream puffs - with cheese stirred into the batter and baked into these unbelievable little cheesy puffs. That was paired with the bubbly to begin, and they were fantastic warm from the oven.

Choux pastry is actually incredibly easy to make, and there’s no need to pipe it out onto your baking sheet. Dropped from a spoon, they turn out beautifully rustic.

Mike shopped, and picked up some Swiss gruyère, which I requested and is traditional for gougères, but the theme last night was Canadian food. Oops. So I made a trial batch in the morning at home using the gruyère, and as they baked and filled the house with that cheesy gruyere smell, my 5 year old nephew, Ben, ran upstairs saying “Julie! Something doesn’t smell very good!” and then proceeded to gag and dry heave - seriously, and not even for dramatic effect - until the gougères came out of the oven and cooled down and the smell dissipated. When W tried one it quickly came back up and he tried desperately to wipe the taste off his tongue. So my point is, choose your cheese carefully. At the event, I made a couple batches using grated old Sylvan Star gouda (made in Alberta!) and they were wonderful.

Gouda or Gruyère Gougères

1 1/2 cups coarsely grated Gruyère or old Gouda cheese

For pâte à choux:
1 cup water
1/2 cup unsalted or salted butter, cut into pieces
1/2 tsp. salt (if using unsalted)
1 cup all-purpose flour
4 large eggs

1 1/2 cups grated Gouda or gruyère

In a saucepan bring water and butter to a boil over medium-high heat. Turn the heat down to low and add flour all at once, then stir with a wooden spoon until the mixture pulls away from side of pan.

Transfer the mixture to a bowl and beat in the eggs one at a time with an electric mixer on high speed, beating well after each addition. The batter should have the consistency and colour of thick pudding; thicker than cake batter but thinner than cookie dough.

Preheat oven to 375°F and spray two baking sheets with nonstick spray or line them with parchment paper. Stir the cheese into the pâte à choux and spoon about a tablespoon at a time an inch apart on baking sheets. Bake for 25-30 minutes, or until puffed, golden and crisp. Gougères keep, chilled in sealable plastic bags, 2 days or frozen 1 week. Reheat gougères uncovered in a preheated 350°F oven for 10 minutes if chilled or 15 minutes if unthawed frozen. You must serve gougères warm.

Makes about 2 dozen.

Chicken Satay

1 1/2 lb. skinless, boneless chicken or turkey breast

1/2 cup plain yogurt
1 small onion, grated (optional)
3 cloves garlic, crushed
1 Tbsp. grated fresh ginger
1 Tbsp. soy sauce
1 Tbsp. brown sugar or honey
1 Tbsp. curry powder
1/2 tsp. cumin

bamboo skewers

Cut chicken lengthwise into strips and place in a bowl or zip lock bag. Combine all the marinade ingredients and pour over the chicken; toss well to coat and refrigerate for an hour or overnight.

Thread the chicken onto bamboo skewers that have been soaked in water for at least 10 minutes. Grill or broil for a few minutes on each side, until just cooked through. Serve warm, at room temperature or cold with peanut sauce for dipping.

Makes about 20 satay.

Per satay: 46 calories, 0.7 g total fat (0.2 g saturated fat, 0.2 g monounsaturated fat, 0.1 g polyunsaturated fat), 8 g protein, 1.5 g carbohydrate, 20 mg cholesterol, 0.1 g fiber. 14% calories from fat.

The panna cotta spoons are one of my favourite things to make at functions like these; Willow Park has a drawerful of Chinese soup spoons, and so I stir up a batch of panna cotta (the easiest dessert on the planet - honestly, it’s just cream Jell-O) and pour it into the soup spoons - 1L of cream turns out about 60 of the things - and chill. When they are about halfway set, I sit a fresh raspberry in the middle of each one - just so that they don’t roll around on the surface. I learned this from experience. You end up with one perfect, slurpy bite of panna cotta.

Classic Vanilla Panna Cotta

Do these in individual martini glasses, ramekins or Chinese soup spoons. A good variation is maple-blueberry panna cotta: replace the honey with pure maple syrup and put blueberries on top.

1 package plain gelatin (or 1 Tbsp. if you buy it in bulk)
1 L half & half or 18% coffee cream
1/4 cup honey
1 Tbsp. sugar
1 tsp. pure vanilla extract or a vanilla bean

Fresh raspberries or blueberries, for on top

Pour about a cup of the cream into a medium pot and sprinkle the gelatin over the surface. Let it sit for about 5 minutes to let the gelatin soften.

Set the pot over medium heat and stir, without letting the cream boil, until the gelatin is completely dissolved. This should take 2-3 minutes. (If you are using a whole vanilla bean, cut it in half lengthwise using the tip of a sharp knife and scrape the seeds out and add it to the cream, along with the scraped pod.)

Add the rest of the cream, the honey and sugar and cook for another 5 minutes, until the sugar is completely dissolved. Remove from heat and stir in the vanilla.

If you used a vanilla bean, remove the pod. Pour the mixture into individual wine glasses, small dishes, ramekins or soup spoons. Put them in the fridge for at least 2 hours, until set. Top with berries.

Serves about 8, or makes about 60 soup spoons.

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This whole Indian theme came about because I’ve been buying far more tomatoes than is absolutely necessary, and as a result have a few going wrinkly on top of my breadbox. Once, when we lived in Vancouver about 5 years ago, I made a potato curry from my friend Tahera Rawji’s cookbook Simply Indian, and because I didn’t have any crushed tomatoes I whizzed a couple of tomatoes in the food processor that were at the time going wrinkly on my minescule Vancouver countertop. It was one of those minor events that lodged itself firmly in my brainpan, and now whenever I see an aging tomato, I want curried potatoes.

Tomato Curried Potatoes
a variation of “Potato Curry” in Simply Indian

4-5 Yukon gold or baby new potatoes, cut into large chunks (I don’t bother to peel them - a bonus when you use thin-skinned potatoes like YG)
canola oil, for cooking
1 cup crushed tomatoes, tomato sauce, or 2 tomatoes pureed in the food processor
2 tsp. paprika
1 1/2 tsp. curry powder or paste
1 tsp. chili powder
2 tsp. sugar
1/2 tsp. salt (or to taste)

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, paprika, curry powder, chili powder, sugar and salt and cook for 5-10 minutes, until the potatoes are well coated and the extra moisture has cooked off.

Serves 4.

Also, I had the most enormous cauliflower you ever saw left over from Ramsay Rocks, where it was supposed to go onto the veggies and dip tray in the volunteer’s tent. I hardly ever buy cauliflower. I’m not a huge fan. Or I wasn’t; I am now. My favorite way to cook any kind of veg is to roast it, so why not cauliflower? I gave it a try, and even W liked it. To roast cauliflower, separate it into florets and toss with canola or olive oil and salt; spread in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet and roast at 450°F for about half an hour, until it’s all golden and charred.

The daal was something I flipped past en route to the curried potato recipe; it had me at the first line: “in a large saucepan with plenty of water, bring to a boil and cook lentils until overdone and mushy.” Hey, I can do that. Beyond that, the recipe pointed me in the right direction and I went on my way. This is definitely a keeper. Funny that I’ve never made this before, but looking at the recipe it seems so completely obvious.

Daal Curry

1 1/2 cups dried orange lentils
canola oil, for cooking
1 large onion, chopped
2 large tomatoes, chopped
2-3 garlic cloves, crushed
1 tsp. curry paste or powder
1 tsp. sugar
1/2 tsp. chili powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2-1 cup half & half or evaporated milk or coconut milk (optional)
1/2 tsp. garam masala (optional)
a handful of cilantro, chopped (optional)

Put the lentils in a pot and boil for 15-20 minutes, until very well done and mushy. Drain. Meanwhile, heat a good drizzle of oil and sauté the onions until dark golden. Add the tomatoes and garlic and cook for another 5 minutes. Add the curry paste, sugar, chili powder, and salt, then the lentils and cook for another 5 minutes. Add the half & half and cook until it has the consistency you want - they can be runny, or thicken up if you cook it for a few more minutes.

Remove from heat and stir in the garam masala, then sprinkle with cilantro, if you like. Serves 4-6.

The tangy, pillowy naan is from Tahera’s book. It seemed at first to be a little over the top to make naan from scratch, but then again it isn’t any different than making pizza dough. Next time, I’ll brush the outside of the rolled dough with melted butter spiked with garlic before cooking it, and I am so using this as a base for Indian-influenced pizzas on the barbecue. Tandoori chicken, perhaps?

Naan
a variation from Simply Indian

1/2 cup warm water
2 1/2 tsp. instant yeast
1 tsp. sugar
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus extra for rolling
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 cup canola oil
1 egg, beaten
5 Tbsp. powdered milk (optional - I didn’t use any)
5 Tbsp. plain yogurt
melted butter or oil, for frying

In a large bowl, stir together the water, yeast and sugar and let stand for 5 minutes, until foamy. If it doesn’t foam, the yeast is inactive; toss it out!

Stir in the flour, salt, canola oil, egg and powdered milk, and stir until almost combined. Add the yogurt and work into a soft, pliable dough.

Cover with a tea towel and let rise until doubled in size; about an hour or two.

Divide the dough into 6-8 pieces and on a lightly floured surface, roll out each piece into an oval. Brush both sides with melted butter or oil. (Tahera instructs to brush one side with butter, the other with milk.)

Cook each naan in a very hot skillet until blistered and cooked, flipping as necessary.

Makes 6-8 naan.

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But I still do love Caesar salad, and today it occurred to me that it would make good use of the bag of frozen shrimp that I so often call into service on days like today when I haven’t really planned anything. It would have made good use of a deli roasted chicken, too.

The chunk of leftover baguette I had frozen was chopped, tossed with canola oil and toasted in a 400 degree oven to make croutons, an essential part of any Caesar. (I would have sprinkled them with some garlic powder or salt if I had any. If I wasn’t so lazy, I would have pressed a clove of garlic into the oil that I tossed the bread chunks in.) The shrimp came cooked in a bag, and only needed thawing under running water in a colander.

For the dressing, I consulted my salad binder (I have 14 binders full of recipes I’ve been collecting over the years, plus a yellow milk crate, plus assorted surfaces throughout the house, plus my computer, plus about ten thousand cookbooks - I exaggerate only slightly) and sort of morphed a bunch of Caesar dressing recipes together. I wish I had a tube of anchovy paste - I love anchovies in my Caesars - but it’s not something I normally keep on hand. The dressing was good, if a little lemony… I know a lot of people like it like that, but I’ve never been one to squeeze that wedge of lemon over my salad. Next time I think I’ll try half lemon, half balsamic vinegar, for a creamy but balsamic-y Caesar dressing. A roasted head of garlic would have been fantastic, too.

In fact, next time I think I’ll try grilling whole hearts of Romaine like they used to do at that restaurant over on 4th Street, and grill the shrimp, and maybe even grill oil-brushed and garlic-rubbed bread to tear into croutons, too.

Caesar Dressing

1/4 cup lemon juice (or half lemon juice, half balsamic vinegar)
1/4 cup low fat mayo
1/4 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese
2 garlic cloves, finely crushed
2 tsp. grainy (or not) Dijon mustard
1 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
lots of freshly ground black pepper

Whisk it all together in a bowl or shake it up in a jar.

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