The essence of home

I’ve been putting off writing this post. The topic seemed simple enough, but whenever I tried to come up with an answer to the question, I was overwhelmed.

“What does Canada taste like to you?”

Deciding on one taste that most embodies the Canadian experience is, in my opinion, nearly impossible. With a country of such physical size and cultural contrasts, to concentrate on one flavour would be to exclude the thousands of other culinary adventures there are to be had.

To me, Canada tastes like maple syrup on my father’s French toast. I think of a butter-drenched crab boil on one coast, and Asian-influenced seafood on the other. Summer evenings wandering the streets of Montréal, shopping for decadent Opéra cakes. The requisite hotdog from Toronto street vendors. Breakfast cooked over a campfire, with smoky bacon and biscuits baked in a cast iron pan.

Canada tastes as sweet as summer fruit, as hearty as pierogies and as complex as our world-renowned wines. Canadian food reflects our varied climates, our landscapes and our seasons – it is the expression of the way we have created communities in this immigrant nation, and suggests the direction of what is to come.

Despite my travels, I would wager to say 85% of all the meals I’ve ever eaten have been in Canada. Seeing that I’m now somewhat obsessed with food, my food adventures this country surely have been nothing short of inspiring. Though I am itching to continue to travel the world and try new things, Canada will always be home to me. There is enough to explore down the street, throughout the province and across the nation to sustain me for years to come.

Maybe it would be easier if I concentrated on what Canada Day tastes like to me?

That’s easy. Growing up in a city on the edge of Lake Ontario, Canada Day meant one thing, and one thing alone – the annual Lion’s Club carnival. Every long weekend for the summer, the Lion’s Club carnival would make its rounds through local fairs and festivals throughout our region. And Canada Day was when it would come to my city.

Along with the other kids in our neighbourhood, I would watch the workers set up the tilt-a-whirl, Ferris wheel, and midway down by the beach. Soon enough, you could smell the popcorn and the air would become heavy with the sweetness of cotton candy. Twinkling lights would greet nightfall, and we would wait for the inky blackness to blanket the lake completely – setting the stage for the evening’s fireworks display.

Inspired by those memories, I’ve created miniature sweet wonton cones filled with icewine-macerated strawberries. The strawberries come from a nearby farm, the wine from a winery down the highway, and the wontons are my nod to Canada’s distinct cultural heritage. It is seasonal, the ingredients are local, and there is a bit of kitschy humour – how very Canadian. And red and white on Canada Day - how can you go wrong?

For an explanation of icewine and its production, click here.

Icewine strawberries in sweet wonton cones
My own creation, with apologies to Thomas Keller

Ingredients
1 pint strawberries
1/4 cup icewine
1 cup clarified butter
16 x 3 1/2” square wonton wrappers (4 are in case of mishap – and anyway, that is what my package contained)
2 tablespoons granulated sugar or Demerara sugar

Sweetened whipped cream, to serve

Speciality utensils
12 conical shaped metal forms (the type used for kulfi will do) or conical paper cups for water dispensers

Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C).

Hull and slice the strawberries, taking into account the size of your cone forms. Add the berries to a bowl and add the icewine. Stir lightly to combine, and refrigerate for at least two hours.

On a baking sheet, set out the metal forms or the paper cups. Brush each wonton on both sides with clarified butter. Wrap wonton wrappers around the cups to form cones, making sure to press the seams together. Twist the bottom to secure the point, if necessary. Lightly dust the cones with the granulated sugar, and bake for 7 minutes or until golden brown and crispy. Allow to cones to cool and remove from forms.

To serve, mound some of the macerated strawberries into your sugared cones, and top with the whipped cream.

Notes
• I used an Inniskillin 2002 Riesling Icewine for this recipe, thinking the floral apricot notes and bright acidity would complement the strawberries. Any icewine you enjoy would be suitable, or even a late harvest Vidal would be a great substitution, offering a bit of spice and sweet peach flavours.
• For Ontario readers, the LCBO does offer icewine in small bottles (a bit larger than hotel room minis). This size would be perfect to splash on a few berries, and are reasonably priced.
• I chose not to add sugar to the berries, but you may want to check for sweetness and add sugar accordingly.
• For the photograph, I used a non-sugared cone. It was terribly humid that day, and sugar was melting into a sticky mess. However, I would not suggest skipping this step as the wonton seems too savoury without this bit of gilding.
• The next time I make these cones, if I'm feeling particularly industrious that is, I think I would experiment with a tuile cone instead - if anyone experiments, please let me know!

A little bit about the girl behind the curtain

I have been recently tagged for two memes, both with cookbooks and cooking on the mind. For ease of reading, and to preserve my already scattered brain, I've combined the two (my apologies if this violates some esteemed meme rule that I'm not aware of).

First off, the Cook Next Door meme, thoughtfully created by Nicky and Oliver over at the gorgeous site Delicious Days, and brought to my attention by Reid of 'Ono Kine Grindz.

What's your first memory of baking/cooking on your own?

It wasn’t entirely on my own, but I remember a batch of cookies I made with my great-aunt when I was about six or younger. I told her that we had made chocolate cookies in school, and that they were tasty. I then proceeded to tell her the recipe — as per the memory of a six year old. In her support of my budding interest, she helped me gather my ingredients and supervised as I mixed, dumped and sampled the project. Please note, measuring was not involved. Nor were eggs, I don’t think. I remember the cookies were hard as a rock and would not come off the sheet, but my aunt patiently pried them off and declared them delicious. I’m amazed she didn’t chip a tooth.

Who had the most influence on your cooking?

This is a very tough one to answer. From my youth, I’d have to say the women in my life: my mother, my grandmother and my best friend’s mother next door. From my mother I learned to be fearless with food, to eat from street vendors and happily get my fingers stuck into a mess. From my grandmother, I learned about comfort, foods that had history to her, and how to make the perfect scrambled eggs. From the lady next door, I learned to love all things Italian (a cuisine far removed from my own Anglo-Indian palate); veal scallopini, hearty pastas and Easter breads.

Today, my food influences are evolving. My father, who was always one for culinary improvisation, has taken over a lot of the cooking at my parents house. From him, I’ve learned the exacting art to sandwich making, how to perfect roast beef, and how to look at tried and true ingredients with a fresh perspective. I’m also more influenced by the foods and tastes of my friends, picking and choosing elements of cuisines to add to my own repertoire.

Do you have an old photo as "evidence" of an early exposure to the culinary world?

I don’t have one here, but I will get back to you.

Mageiricophobia - do you suffer from any cooking phobia, a dish that makes your palms sweat?

Not a dish per se, but attempting some of the tried-and-true recipes family recipes terrifies me. My family is not one to write things down often, preferring the “bit of this, dash of that” method. For example, my father has told me his keema recipe a million times, but I never can get the taste right — it never tastes like home. Maybe I need to make it with him, or maybe I need to make it more often. Or maybe I should just keep eating at their house.

I used to be terrified of roasting chicken; making sure it was properly cooked so that I did not inadvertently poison a loved one. After perfecting my method (and finally buying a meat thermometer) I am cured.

What are your most valued or used kitchen gadgets and/or what was the biggest letdown?

The chef’s knife my parents gave me for Christmas years ago — so many years ago, that I cannot remember the year. It was my first real chef’s knife, all my own. Admittedly, I knicked my palm when I took it out (how’s that for a Christmas morning memory), but now it is an extension of my arm when I’m cooking. Since then I’ve received a lovely full set of professional knives, but I still go back to my first love. There is something about it’s weight and balance that simply feels right in my hand.

Biggest disappointment?

Besides the Henkels herb contraption Michele mentioned, I would have to say my double bladed mezzaluna from Williams-Sonoma. It is a thing of beauty, really, but too bad it is not nearly sharp enough. It turns herbs into a sodden mass wedged between the blades.

Name some funny or weird food combinations/dishes you really like - and probably no one else does.

Cilantro in my tuna salad — is that weird? That is the way my father made it when I was growing up, and so it is the only way I really enjoy it. Full of finely minced onions and lots of pepper, too. It is worth the bad breath for the taste of my Dad’s tuna salad.

When I was little, all the kids loved my mother’s peanut butter sandwiches. She was known for making the best sandwiches in the neighborhood. Her secret? Butter and peanut butter on the bread. Sounds like cardiac suicide, but I’m telling you, it was tasty. I think it was the saltiness of the butter that worked against the sweetness of the peanuts. Honestly, years later, I’ll run into someone from my childhood and they’ll mention my mother’s sandwiches. Every once in a while, I still crave them.

What are the three edibles or dishes you simply don't want to live without?

I do not know if this fits the “dish” criteria, but my favorite meals are ones when we head to the market, basket in hand, and visit our favorite purveyors. We come home laden with cheeses, breads, some cured meats and simply sit down and feast. I have a heartfelt passion for these afternoons.

Masala dosas, wrapped in banana leaves, from street vendors in India. Or really, my mom's dosas. These thin crêpes, filled with spiced potatoes and peas, have always been a favorite of mine. I remember on a train trip when I was about eight, all I wanted was a dosa. At the next station, my father gestured someone over to the window and ordered. With lightning speed, the man assembled my treat and passed it over. I greedily tore open the leaf, tore off a bit of dosa, scooped up the potatoes and shoved my fist into my mouth. Then I started to cry. It seems the man had put some firey green chili chutney onto the dosa without my father noticing. If that didn’t turn me off of them, then it must be love.

A hot cup of tea with condensed milk, like my mom makes when I am sick or sad.

Any question you missed in this meme that you would have loved to answer? Well then, feel free to add one!

Your favorite ice-cream.
Mango-peach frozen yogurt in a waffle cone from a place in Niagara on the Lake, Ontario, or pretty much anything chocolate.

You will definitely never eat...

I don’t know if I can really say never, but I'm not chomping at the bit to try natto — after all the accounts I’ve read, I’ve not come across a report of anyone falling in love at first bite. The consistency throws me off a bit.

Your own signature dish...

I wish it was more complicated, but really, probably a simple pavlova. They are loved by my family, and are frequently requested.

And now, a Cookbook meme courtesy of a tag by Michele — I’m unsure of its origin (please feel free to enlighten me).

How many cookbooks do I own?

Is lots an acceptable answer? I have got a bookcase full here, but there are also the books I have leant out and the books I sentimentally have claimed from my family’s collection (even if they are not aware of my designs as of yet). I also have an addiction to food magazines, with some kept in their own little dividers, and others pillaged for recipes and recompiled in recipe binders. I’m quite particular about my binders, and recently overhauled the whole system. Yes, I have issues.

The last cookbook I bought?

The Instant Cook by Donna Hay. I have a few of her books, and snapped up a copy of her latest about a month ago. I admire the simplicity of her presentations and the variety of her tastes.

The last food book I read?

I’ve recently returned to Hot Sour Salty Sweet by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid. I have owned the book for a while, but I picked it up again. I love how immersed they are in the culture and heritage of the foods they explore. Evocative and appetizing, this book is a feast for the eyes, taste buds and the soul.

Five cookbooks that hold a place in my heart?

Instead of answering this question, I have given myself a little assignment. For the month of July (after I post my Taste Canada entry) I will explore five of my favorite cookbooks, taking a week or so for each. I have not selected the five, so I’ll be surprised along with all of you at the results.

Both these memes are already highly popular, and so many of the people I had planned on tagging have already participated. If you would like to be tagged, please let me know in the comments section.

Tag! Catherine, from the lovely Food Musings has been tagged to participate in either (or both) memes listed here. Let's show her some love!

Patriotic plates

It is frequently said that Canada, and by extension Canadians, have a bit of an identity crisis. As citizens of this post-colonial nation, with a diverse and scattered population, neighbours to a global superpower, our sense of selves seems in constant flux.

But don’t an ever-evolving cultural heritage belie our patriotism. Our commitment to multiculturalism, our languages, and even our relationship to our land speak of the pride we feel as Canadians.

A Canadian feast may include fresh seafood from the coasts, bison and beef from the prairies, soft fruit from Ontario, and maple syrup from Québec. Not to overlook the pierogies, curries, vinetarta, pizzas and bagels that reflect the varied faces of the Canadian landscape. It is this diversity that breathes Canada; and it is this culinary heritage that we will soon be celebrating.

In case you weren’t aware, a group of Canadian Food bloggers (myself included) will be participating in a Canada Day food blogging event, with the theme of “What does Canada taste like to you? “ For complete details and an introduction, please see the post by our lovely Domestic Goddess.

Please participate, the more the merrier. It is a great opportunity to celebrate our country and our online community, with very tasty dividends!

Butter + sugar + heat = bliss

I’ve not cooked a meal since last Sunday. And that was pasta.

Between assembling, reheating, and opening takeout containers, I’ve not had to do any “real” cooking, as in I’ve not turned on a burner or the oven. True, the 33°C temperatures may have a bit to do with my recent affinity for salads, but still, how lovely it is to be able to throw together a meal with such wonderful produce at hand, great restaurants nearby, and lovely family members all too willing to cook.

I’ve had the privilege of considering cooking a luxury – not a necessity or a chore, but an activity I could choose to do when the spirit so moved me.

I finally turned the oven on this evening, and for nothing short of a worthy cause; baking. The ultimate in indulgence, baking sweets speaks immediately to images of celebration, of comfort and of joy.

Baking always seems alchemy to me; the magic process of taking ingredients, combining them in a certain order in specific proportions, exposing this creation to heat — and voilà, a result much greater than the sum of its parts. Baking is all about transformation. One cannot help but feel a surge of pride when presenting a still-warm treat from the oven.

These cookies, crispy and chewy, like a good cookie should be, are as basic as one could wish for. Sinfully buttery, sublimely sweet, they melt in your mouth and leave you reaching for another. Based on the Nestlé Toll House recipe, swapping flavourings for dried cranberries or cherries, toffee bits, or dark chocolate chunks is highly encouraged.

So I’ve baked. I’ve rolled up my sleeves, faced a hot kitchen and even licked a spoon. I feel terribly domestic.

I should confess though, I’m having a salad for dinner.

White chocolate macadamia nut cookies
Based on the Nestlé Toll House recipe

Ingredients
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 cup packed brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 eggs
1 cup white chocolate, in chunks (or more, if desired)
1/2 cup lightly toasted macadamia nuts (or more, if desired)

Preheat oven to 325°F.

In a small bowl, sift together flour, baking soda and salt. In the bowl of a mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, or by hand, beat together butter, sugars and vanilla, until the colour turns pale and the mixture lightens in texture.

Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Gradually beat in flour mixture. Stir in chocolate and nuts. Drop rounded teaspoons onto ungreased baking sheets (I use a small icecream scoop and parchment lined baking sheets).
Bake for 9-12 minutes, or until golden brown. Let stand for 2 minutes, then remove a wire rack to cool completely.

Makes 3 dozen cookies.

Notes
• This dough freezes quite well, so I usually portion out cookies and individually freeze them on baking sheets. When hard, I transfer them to a freezer bag— then I can make as few or as many as I’d like, without having to defrost the whole batch.

À la mode

There has always been the need to eat; but somewhere along the way we discovered the notion of eating fashionably.

One of my greatest pleasures in my older cookbooks is to see the evolution of tastes through their pages. As Donna Hay put it in her book Modern Classics, Book 1, “What macaroni and cheese was to me, risotto will be to the children of today when they come adults doing the cooking in the future.” I find that idea fascinating; the way that foods, like any cultural phenomenon, move from innovation to trend, ending up in either the fad or classics category. We’ve all watched cuisines, techniques and specific flavours move in and out of the limelight.

The three books pictured in my inaugural post were all ones stolen from my Mother’s collection. Spanning 32 years, these publications chronicle an amazingly rapid progression of tastes, all promoting the au courant menus of the moment.

The oldest, The Ogilvie Cook Book (Ogilvie Flours Mills Co., Limited, 10th edition, revised 1957) promotes itself as “a liked and respected friend of our modern homemakers.” Truly the must-have guide to home entertaining, it includes Appetizer Rolls made with Velveeta Cheese, undiluted condensed soup, bacon and Parker House rolls; Extra Good Homemade Chili with cayenne, salt and pepper as the only seasonings; and Half Moon Bay Crabs served in homemade tin foil faux crab shells. Italian food is still an emerging cuisine for the North American household, while German specialties are mainstays and French cuisine is chic. Aspic and jellies figure heavily into multiple chapters.

I realize I sound tounge-in-cheek, but my interest in these recipes is sincere – the attention to detail and specificity of garnishes show evident care and a belief in these dishes. And though these may not be staples in my current repertoire, I respect what they represent to the homemakers of 50 years ago.

These mini cheesecakes are far from revolutionary. Simplicity itself, without much accoutrement or fuss – a soft vanilla centre topped with tart berries, presented in a crumbly crust. I remember when cheesecakes were all the rage when I was little – I am pretty sure I remember the first cheesecake I’d ever tried, one brought from New York by a favourite uncle. And though the humble cake may now be prominent on most chain-restaurant menus (and in the name of one chain in particular), in my opinion, its allure has not diminished.

My idea of a classic cheesecake
An amalgamation of recipes

Crust
1/4 cup butter, melted
1 1/4 cups graham wafer crumbs

Filling
24 ounces cream cheese (three packages), at room temperature
1 cup granulated sugar
3 eggs
1 tablespoon lemon zest (optional)
2 teaspoon vanilla
Pinch of salt (up to 1/2 teaspoon)
1 cup sour cream
Fresh berries, chocolate or sauces to garnish

Preheat oven to 180°C (350°F).

Lightly butter bottom and sides of a 91/2-inch springform pan. In a small bowl, stir crumbs with butter until mixed. Press onto bottom of pan. Bake in centre of preheated oven until set, about 8 to 10 minutes. Cool completely. Leave oven on.

Meanwhile, using a stand or handheld mixer beat cream cheese until smooth and creamy. Slowly add sugar and cornstarch, beating well combined, scraping down sides of bowl as needed. Add eggs one at a time, beating after each addition until incorporated. Beat in lemon juice, vanilla and salt. Add sour cream and stir just until mixed.

Wrap the underside and halfway up the sides of the springform pan with a double layer of heavy-duty foil. Pour cream cheese mixture into pan. Set pan in a larger ovenproof dish. Fill larger dish or roasting pan with enough hot water to come about 1 inch up the sides of pan. Do not fill water higher than where the foil comes up the side. Bake in centre of preheated oven. After 45 minutes the cheesecake will not be completely set; keep the door shut to the oven and turn it off. Allow the cheesecake to rest in the cooling oven for about one hour.

Remove pan from water and discard foil. Run a thin knife around outside edge of cheesecake to release it from the pan. Cool in pan on a baking rack at room temperature for one hour. Refrigerate for at least three hours, preferably overnight. Garnish with fresh berries, chocolate, whipped cream or however desired.

Cheesecake will keep well refrigerated for several days or can be frozen.

Notes
• To make the mini version as pictured, use standard 24 x 1/2 cup capacity muffin tins. Double the graham cracker crust amounts and divide mixture between the tins. Bake for only 4-5 minutes to set. Ladle cheesecake mixture into each muffin tin, until about 2/3 full. Bake in a Bain Marie for about 12 minutes, or until just set (the sides will be dry, the centre still quite moist). Follow cooling directions as listed above. After chilling, invert cakes onto a baking sheet, then carefully transfer to plates. Garnish and serve.
• If garnishing with chocolate, sweetened whipped cream or a particularly sweet fruit, I sometimes cut the sugar down to 3/4 cup.