Bistro at home

The continuation of an exploration of some of my cookbooks, featuring Laura Washburn's Bistro.

I must admit I started out with a somewhat prejudiced view of French cuisine. Growing up, I was only really exposed to the stereotypical view of haute cuisine – I’m sure some of you will recall Donna Martin spitting out calves brains on Beverly Hills, 90210.

Luckily for me, somewhere along the way I realized that I should not learn my culinary lessons from Aaron Spelling, and I ventured out into the wonderful world of cooking — mainly through my mother’s cookbooks. I was 12, and did not have many opportunities for gastronomic safaris.

It was through these books that I began not only to learn names like Auguste Escoffier and Antoine Carême, but also about mother sauces, demi glace and, my greatest discovery, French home and country cooking. It was this food of the hearth, dishes like boeuf bourguignon and terrines, I found most inspiring; featuring deceptively simple flavours and complex results.

This fixation continued, bringing about my obession with a good baguette, and my frequent patronage of bistros and brasseries. Give me a good steak frites, and I’m set; a long-simmered shank with a robust reduction, and I do not know how to be closer to heaven.

I was in one of these moods when I came across the book Bistro, by Laura Washburn. Hungry and waiting for S in a bookstore (he should know better than to keep me waiting in a place with cookbooks nearby), I was idly leafing through their selection when my eyes fell upon a mouth-watering goat’s cheese tart pictured on the back of a book. Turning it over, I was greeted with a bowl of tempting French onion soup, perfectly presented with a cap of blistered gruyère. The book came home with me that night, and very rarely is far from at hand.

Washburn recalls holidays in France from her childhood, with a nostalgic patina of romance and discovery. The book features both classic recipes, from the ideal crème caramel to the venerable cassoulet, and personal creations like a cumin-scented chick pea salad.

She encourages substutions when necessary, but never loses sight of traditional preparations. It is this respect for the culinary history, while not putting limits on your experience of the food, which spoke to me of her affection for these flavours; she evidently wants to share these tastes and stories.

Le grand aïoli
From Bistro, by Laura Washburn.

Salt cod and snails are traditional ingredients in this Provençal dish, but salmon and shrimp are easier to come by for most people. Be sure to use very good oil; despite great quantities of garlic, the flavour base of the aiöli comes from the oil, so it is worth investing in something special. Serve for a crowd, with everything freshly cooked and warmish, or at room temperature. Wash it all down with a chilled white or rosé from Provence.

Ingredients
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
4 salmon steaks
8 oz. unpeeled shrimp tails
10 oz. small new potatoes
12 oz. asparagus tips
8 oz. small green beans
1 fresh bay leaf
6 baby carrots, sliced lengthwise
1 cauliflower, broken into florets
1 broccoli, broken into florets
8 oz. baby zucchini, halved lengthwise
6 eggs
6 oz. cherry tomatoes
4 cooked beets
Coarse sea salt

Aiöli
2 egg yolks
About 1 2/3 cups best-quality extra virgin olive oil
6 large garlic cloves
Fine sea salt

Heat 1 tablespoon of the oil in a large non-stick skillet, add the salmon, and cook for about 3 minutes on each side, or until just cooked through. Season with salt and set aside. Add another 1 tablespoon of the oil to the pan. When hot, add the shrimp and cook until pink and firm, 3-5 minutes. Do not overcook or they will be tough. Season and set aside.

Put the potatoes in a saucepan with cold water to cover and bring to a boil. When the water boils, add slat and cook until tender, 15-20 minutes. Drain and set aside. Meanwhile, cook the asparagus tips and beans in boiling salted water until just tender, about 3 minutes.

Bring a saucepan of water to a boil with the bay leaf. When it boils, add the carrots and cook until al dente, 3-4 minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon and set aside. Return the water to a boil, add the cauliflower florets, and cook until just tender, about 5 minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon. Return the water to a boil, add the broccoli, and cook until just tender, 3-4 minutes.

Rub the zucchini all over with the remaining oil. Heat a ridged stovetop grill pan. When hot, add the zucchini pieces and cook, about 4 minutes per side. Alternatively, cook the same way in a non-stick skillet. Remove and season.

Put the eggs in a saucepan with cold water to cover. Bring to a boil and cook for 6 minutes from boiling point. Drain, cool under running water, then peel and slice.

To make the aiöli, put the egg yolks in a small, deep bowl. Beat well, and then gradually beat in the oil, adding it bit by bit and beating vigorously, until the mixture is as thick as mayonnaise. Stir in the garlic and season to taste.

Arrange all the vegetables and fish on a single platter, or on several platters. Serve, passing the aiöli separately.

Serves 6

Notes
• While I love this dish in its full-blown glory on the weekends, for the weeknight it is not always the most sensible. For the photograph above, I prepared my fallback version; potatoes, salmon, asparagus and beans, all oven-roasted and served with the aioli.
• For those adverse to using raw egg yolks, there are pasteurized egg products on the market which can be substituted. Check the packaging for how much to use to replace each yolk, as producers may vary.

Taste to Go: Pane Fresco by Marc Bakery Café

As announced, I’m starting a new style of articles on the site. “Taste to Go” will feature foodstuffs from my favourite purveyors.

This past Sunday, S and I were feeling particularly virtuous after spending our Saturday devoted to packing up our apartment. And so, when Sunday dawned clear and bright, we decided we deserved a little treat – namely, brunch. What is more luxurious than to start the morning with a leisurely meal of favourites, light conversation and laughter, all enjoyed with the knowledge that the day stretches out full possibility ahead of you?

Heading to Burlington, Ontario’s lakefront area, I’d already scouted out our destination. Evidently, I my stomach had overruled my brain, and during my scouting I had researched the menu, the musician who would be providing entertainment and our seating options. My brain, however had neglected to notice their hours of operation for the restaurant I had chosen. Shows you where my priorities lay.

Arriving half an hour before opening, S and were left to wander the area for a distraction – seizing upon the opportunity to shop for food, I suggested we head over to Pane Fresco by Marc Bakery Café. This small bakery specializes in artisan breads, an ever-changing selection of pastries and is well known for their gorgeous pizzas and sandwiches at lunch. Weekends offer decadent looking Belgian waffles as a special.

With its open kitchen, I cannot help but grin when I walk into this store, the air is thick with the smell of freshly baked bread. Their staff is gracious and knowledgeable, cheerful and chatty with customers. Trying to reign in my ever-increasing appetite as we still planned to keep our brunch plans, I steered myself away from the delectable assortment of treats – but not without first admiring the array of perfect croissants, individual butterscotch bread puddings and savoury cheese-crusted breadsticks.

I knew I had to have one of their focaccia, choosing between the classically flavoured rosemary, the summer perfect pomodoro, or the caramelized onion with goat’s cheese. Eyeing the latter variety, glistening and fragrant, practically groaning under the weight of creamy pillows of cheese and striped with umber strings of sticky-sweet onion, my choice was made – and not one of the adorable piccolo muffin shaped loaves, I wanted a slab. Airy and dense all at the same time, the rich bread was perfect on its own.

Armed with my purchase, I could not help but think that with such offerings before me, a single loaf would be blasphemy. Faced with the decision between beautifully golden French epis, the tempting ciabatta and expertly formed boules of sourdough I knew I was over my head.

Asking the counter staff for a recommendation proved a godsend, as I was steered towards the Fig, Walnut and Date bread; a dark oval shaped loaf artistically slashed lengthwise and dusted with flour. Bearing a slightly chewy crust that was toothsome but still crispy, and a well-formed crumb studded with succulent bits of fig and date, this bread was simply delicious. I detected a bit of spice that seemed reminiscent of hot cross buns, but it could have been the intensely flavoured fruit that was leading me astray. The walnuts added a depth and underlying richness, brought out even more by a light toasting (and a slathering of sweet butter).

For anyone who is in the area,I cannot recommend Pane Fresco highly enough. Though I should mention that I personally found their baguette was not as outstanding as their other loaves. The enthusiastic staff adds to the bustling atmosphere, with a small indoor eating area and patio for café items. My apologies for lack of a photo for Fig and Walnut and Date bread. It was immediately packed up as a gift. Next time, I promise.

Pane Fresco by Marc Bakery Café
414 Locust Street
Burlington, ON
Tuesday-Saturday
7:30 a.m. to 6:00 p.m.
Sundays
7:30 a.m. to 4:00 p.m.

The terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day ... that turned into a week

Title with thanks to Judith Viorst.

Monday started out with me slipping in a mud puddle. Tuesday introduced impossible deadlines to be met – and was a day that did not seem to have enough hours in it. Wednesday, well, I forget Wednesday, I’m sure it happened but I have no recollection of it. I think it was so traumatic that I blocked it from my memory.Thursday brought misunderstandings of seemingly endless proportions. And now it is Friday, and it’s raining outside.

As you may guess, I’m in a bit of a mood.

It is times like these, when I am feeling overwhelmed, that I transform from a usually capable person into a somewhat dramatic, hopeless mess. And it is times like these that the smallest of favours are the grandest of gifts.

These adorable little tomatoes for example, a co-worker brought them to me from her garden – she is a kind and thoughtful lady who never thinks twice when given the opportunity to do something for another. Perfectly ripened, almost candy-like in their sweetness and utterly photogenic, I have had the pleasure of enjoying three miniature little harvests of tomatoes, my morning brightened by a little bag of these babies waiting on my desk in the morning.

Or this lovely green dish, a gift from my dear S in apology for setting fire to one of my roasting dishes (long story involving preheating the oven without remembering that he’d hidden dirty dishes in there earlier). Smooth and sleek with its feminine fluted edge, I love the weight and feel of the ceramic — and the colour is so utterly of him (as you may have noticed, I have a fondness for white serving ware).

So things may not be as dire as they seem. Last night, I surveyed the kitchen and came across some gorgeously crusty Calabrese bread, some herbs and my darling tomatoes. Remembering a recent sunny afternoon at the Taste of the Danforth food festival in Toronto, with the company of great friends and laughter all around, I was inspired to recreate the fabulously fresh bruschetta we’d had at Il Fornello.

The first bite of crusty bread, tangy soft cheese and luscious tomatoes, and I’d banished the gloom. Such a simple pleasure, coupled with a quiet evening, had a wonderfully restorative effect. I slept soundly, and woke this morning with a renewed sense of enthusiasm to face the work ahead.

That’s when I noticed the rain clouds.

Bruschetta with tomato salad and chèvre
Bruschetta, from the Italian bruscare (to roast over coals) technically refers only to the grilled bread. My apologies that I have not included amounts here, instead just the ingredients. But truly, when in a mood like the one I’ve been in, the last thing one wants is to stress over measuring spoons. Use the proportions that best suit your palate. This is supposed to be a dish that exemplifies the “path of least resistance” – the quickest way to pleasure with minimal effort.

Ingredients

Tomatoes, grape or cherry halved, or your favourite large variety cut into manageable bites
Red onion, finely minced
Garlic, finely minced or microplaned (optional)
Basil, in fine strips (chiffonade)
Parsley, finely minced
Salt and pepper
Red wine vinegar (optional)
Olive oil
Slices of Calabrese bread, or any other crusty bread you like
Garlic (left whole)
Chèvre

Preheat broiler.

Combine tomatoes, onion, garlic and herbs in a bowl. Season to taste with salt and pepper and a scant splash of red wine vinegar. Pour over a good-quality olive oil, mixing gently to combine. Allow to sit at room temperature while you prepare the bruschetta.

Under a hot broiler, toast bread on one side until golden brown. Turn and toast the second side until just starting to turn colour. Remove from oven and, working quickly, rub the cut side of the whole garlic clove all over the lightly toasted side. Top with crumbled chèvre, and return to the broiler until the cheese is starting to melt.

Serve topped with tomato salad and a final drizzle of olive oil.

Notes:
• This recipe can be done on a barbeque, grilling the bread first over medium high heat. To melt the cheese, turn the grill down to medium heat and close the lid, checking after 2-3 minutes.

On insipired collaboration

I will be continuing my cookbook exploration, as promised. Stay tuned.

I am, as you may have suspected, one of the many food-obsessed.

While eating breakfast, I’ll be planning my lunch and preparing a mental shopping list for dinner. When we go out, I’m constanly looking in market stalls, restaurant menus and other people’s grocery carts for inspiration. When enjoying a meal, I’m critquing the bite in my mouth, keeping an eye on the presentation, and rarely does my date survive without at least one bite stolen from his plate.

When faced with a dish, I automatically compare it to the times I have had it before, considering what I like and would improve in this incarnation, and looking for ways in which I can create my own version. It’s a compulsion, and I relish every minute of it.

I realize that the food-obsessed is not a rare breed, but we are a passionate, inquisitive and enthusiastic bunch. Not a terrible combination, I’d say.

Most recently, I became fixated on peaches. The hot hazy days of late July were upon us and, in my opinion, there is nothing more equatable to summer than the honeyed sweetness of a ripe peach. One bite into the yeilding flesh, with juices flowing down your chin, and you’re tasting all of the season.

Living in a prime stone and soft fruit region, my anticipation grew, and I began culling recipe books and websites for peach recipes, finally stumbling upon a streusel cake from Williams and Sonoma.

But oh, one recipe would be too simple. Still on my mission for the perfect recipe, I clicked over to the charming Delicious Delicious and was interested in Caryn’s blueberry streusel muffins. What if I took the W&S peach recipe and converted it to muffins or mini-cakes instead?

I have no idea where the sour cream came in. I swear, I was all set on my recipe, and out of nowhere came the thought of the tangy density of a good sour cream crumb cake entered my busy little brain. And so, I was lost. The third recipe hunt began. Donna Hay’s Modern Classics: Book 2 proved my saviour, with her sublimely simple muffin base recipe (my usual standby).

So I was set. I would combine the struesel from Williams Sonoma, the form from Caryn, the base from Donna Hay (slightly altered) and I would have my peach perfection.

Then my dear father offered me a pint of gorgeously bursting blueberries. Remembering the colour combination of black and peach from Nigella’s fruit bake with yoghurt (blackberries and peaches), I couldn’t resist his offer. This was collaboration at its best, and the result could not have been more rewarding.

Blueberry peach sour cream crumb cake
With thanks to the many contributors.

For the topping:
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

For the cake:
2 cups plain (all purpose) flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup sugar
1 cup sour cream
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/3 cup vegetable oil

1 cup blueberries
2 medium sized peaches, peeled, pitted and cubed into medium chunks

Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C). Butter and flour a 9 inch round springform pan (see Note).

To prepare the streusel, stir together the flour, brown and granulated sugars and cinnamon in a bowl. Using a pastry blender, two knives or your fingers, cut or rub the butter until coarse crumbs form. Set aside – if working in a warm kitchen, refrigerate until needed.

For the cake, sift together flour, baking powder and salt in a bowl. Stir in sugar. In a separate bowl, whisk together sour cream, eggs, vanilla and oil, until smooth.

Stir the sour cream/egg mixture through the dry ingredients. Be careful not to overwork the batter – mix until just combined.

In a small bowl, combine the blueberries and peaches.

Pour batter into prepared springform pan and spread evenly to fill the base (the batter will look like it is too little, but it will expand while baking). Sprinkle the mixed fruit over the batter and evenly top with the streusel.

Bake until lightly golden brown and a cake tester or toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean, about 35 minutes. Transfer the pan to a wire rack to cool for 20 minutes. Remove the sides of the springform pan. Can be served warm or at room temperature.

Notes :
• As pictured, this recipe can also be made in a 12 x 1/2 cup capacity non-stick muffin pan. When spooning in the batter, fill until about two-thirds full. Reduce the cooking time to approximately 12 minutes. In this preparation, you will have extra streusel topping, which can be frozen for a later use.
• To peel peaches, simply bring a two-thirds filled saucepan of water to boil. Using a small knife, cut a small, shallow “X” into the bloom end of each peach and immerse the peach into the boiling water for 30 seconds. Lift out with a slotted spoon and transfer to an ice bath until cool (you can skip this step and allow them to cool on a board, but I find the ice bath expedites the process). Once cooled, the skins should peel off easily, using either your fingers or the knife.

Falling asleep at the controls

As you can see, we're experiencing a bit of technical difficulties (read: Tara really doesn't understand most of this stuff). I appreciate your patience, and hope to get things up and running, with new content, as of this weekend.

Cheers.