Easter parade: portraits of a long weekend

Out and about at Springridge Farm, Milton, Ontario.

More to come ...

Reality bites

Aside from some cursory mentions and to answer specific questions, I have rarely felt the desire to write about this site on this site. Maybe it was because it seemed too self-referential, or maybe it is because I enjoyed the romantic notion that my writing was part of a conversation rather than a post on a computer screen; either way I always felt better in ignoring the technicalities of food blogging and website management.

However, due to a technical glitch, I have had to republish certain articles from my archives. My day has been spent resurrecting old posts, my eyes now sore from scanning old files and rearranging templates.

Since I enjoy the illusion that hides the work that goes into the site and my writing, I must admit I do believe that many of us subscribe to a similar fantasy in regards to the lifestyles behind food blogs. While I can only speak for myself definitively, I am sure that there are others who would admit that not every dish that graces our table is camera-ready, or that every meal eaten out is from a starred restaurant.

How very fitting it is then, that while rooting around for some files to reconstruct the archive I came across this picture for a Mixed Berry Ricotta Fool. A dish made up completely of odds and ends from other dishes featured here, it is a good dose of honesty - I mean, how often does one mention, let alone write about, the humdrum reality of leftovers?

Not every meal I cook is meant for publication; most days (especially in these last few months) I have not been able to enjoy the luxury of planning multi-course meals or experimenting as much as I used to. More often than not the focus of my cooking is to resolve the grumbling of stomachs and the solution lies in whatever is in the fridge. Far from glamorous I know, but closer to the demands of the everyday.

I will admit though, as much as I can recognize this actuality, I have little desire to write or dwell upon it. As shallow as it seems, I would like to continue my daydream that every author behind every site I read is living an utterly fashionable life, that every city is exciting every day, that almost every meal is a success, that any failures are dealt with aplomb and are simply fodder for a rapier wit.

But please do not draw back the curtain on the dirty dishes and take-out meals and the midnight snacks of saltines and peanut butter. While I do believe a good measure of self-awareness and accepting oneself, leftovers and all, let's not go overboard.

My apologies to subscribers of this site for old posts appearing on the site feed. I hope you don't mind the trip down memory lane.

Mixed berry ricotta fool
My own creation. Luscious, yet light, this recipe delivers a perfect balance of flavours and texture.

Blame it on lack of sleep (an infant will do that to you), but while I have the photo, I have no recollection of where I put the exact recipe. The following are estimations.

Ingredients:
1/3 cup of mixed berries
3 tablespoons ricotta
Honey, I believe I used about 1/2 teaspoon, but go with your taste depending on the tartness of the fruit
1/8 teaspoon vanilla
A few grates of lemon zest (optional)

Crush the berries with the back of a fork or in a mortar and pestle to form a coarse purée.

In another bowl, combine ricotta, honey, vanilla and nutmeg (if using). Fold the berry mixture through the ricotta, until marbled well but not completely blended. Check for sweetness and adjust honey if needed.

Spoon on slices of baguette, scones or to top waffles and pancakes.

Serves 1.

Notes:
• Omit the lemon zest and use a few grates of nutmeg for a background note of spice.
• Alternatively this fool can be mounded on split strawberries for a quick snack, multiplied to fill prebaked tart shells, in a napoleon of puff pastry, or between layers of sponge cake. It also makes a simple summer dessert when served in a cup with shortbread or sugar cookies alongside.

Speaking of ...

Sometimes I just get on a kick; I will become obsessed with an ingredient or dish, and eat nothing but variations on a theme. Last year at this time I was all about asparagus. This year, it seems my seasonal love affair is with peas. Since we’re already on the subject, I thought I would present another new favorite recipe for these little darlings.

Pea and ricotta crostini
Fresh with the brightness of lemon and rich with the supple texture of ricotta, these crostini are great as an hors d'oeuvre or starter. Alternatively, serve them as a garnish with a spring minestrone or other broth-based soup.

Ingredients
1 cup petit pois/peas (defrosted if frozen)
3 tablespoons ricotta cheese
Lemon zest (see note)
1-2 teaspoons olive oil
Salt and pepper

To serve
Toasted slices of baguette
Parmesan shavings or shards

In a small pot of boiling salted water, blanch the peas. Cook until tender, approximately 1 to 2 minutes (depending on their size). Once cooked, remove peas to a bowl of ice water to stop the cooking process and set their colour.

In a mortar and pestle, or a small food processor, mash the peas to form a coarse paste. Stir in the ricotta and lemon zest and enough olive oil to reach the desired consistency. Season to taste with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

To serve, mound purée onto slices of freshly toasted baguette and garnish with parmesan cheese.
Makes about 1/2 cup of purée.

Notes:
• I use just a few grates of lemon zest - about 1/8 of a teaspoon or so. It is really to taste, so trust your own judgement. Alternatively you can use a squeeze of lemon juice instead.
• This purée can also be tossed with cooked pasta for a quick supper. In this case, I would add some chopped parsley, whole watercress or torn arugula and additional cheese, with olive oil to loosen.

Playing groundhog

I do not care what the calendar says. As far as I am concerned, the new year does not start until a good time after February 2nd - usually not until sometime towards the end of March. Truly, how can one feel that they are beginning anew when the world is still trapped under a blanket of snow?

I am a person wholly affected by my surroundings. As I have alluded to before I tend to have strong reactions to changes in the weather. And, like most I’m sure, I tend to eat in response to what’s going on outside my window.

With the grey days of early spring just settling upon us, I find myself eagerly awaiting the bourgeoning brightness of April and May. I have been keeping a steely eye on our neighbour’s lawn and our green grocer’s inventory to see the return of a green palette - in shades of grass, asparagus and pea shoots.

Sadly, I am a bit ahead of Mother Nature, who is still enjoying the last vestiges of her beauty sleep. Today dawned cloudy and cold, with a crisp, howling wind to greet us. It seemed somehow fitting that I turned to my freezer for comfort as I spied a bag of frozen petit pois (small, sweet peas). Even though my landscape is still drab and monochromatic, at least my bowl is filled with the promise of the months to come.

My apologies to any readers outside the Northern Hemisphere for this weather-centric post. Happy autumn to you all!

Spring Pea Soup
This creamy, yet fresh tasting soup is delicious served either hot or chilled. While I wanted a pure, unadulterated pea taste in this soup, herbs would be a natural partner. A few sprigs of mint, chives or flat-leafed parsley could be added while puréeing.

Ingredients
1 teaspoon olive oil
1 teaspoon butter
2 shallots, finely minced
3/4 cup vegetable or chicken stock (low sodium if store bought)
1 1/4 cups petit pois (if frozen, defrosted)
1/4 teaspoon lemon juice/sherry vinegar
Salt and pepper to taste

In a small saucepan over medium low heat, melt the butter into the olive oil. When foaming has subsided, add the shallots. Season with salt and sweat the shallots until translucent, about 2 minutes.

Add the stock and bring to a boil. Add the petit pois and cook until bright green and just tender. This depends on their size, but should only take a few moments.

Using an upright or immersion blender, purée the soup until very smooth. If using the upright blender, be careful about blending hot liquids - you might want to allow it to cool before attempting. Or, undo the centre of the lid to vent out the steam, covering the hole with a kitchen towel.

Add the lemon juice and cream (if using), season with salt and pepper to taste. Drizzle with additional olive oil for garnish, if desired.

Serves 2 for a light lunch with a salad, or one who's feeling hungry.

Notes:
• You can play with the aromatics in this recipe. Leeks would be a fine substitution for the shallots.
• Added at the end, a dash of cream or an additional dab of butter to this soup adds a wonderful richness to the finish.

In good company

I must admit, I’m feeling a bit burnt out.

Since the aforementioned conference ended Saturday afternoon, I’ve been in a waking-comatose state. It seems a few days of information-laden presentations, politicking, and incessant schedules, all topped off by being away from one’s own bed, takes a toll.

Truthfully, it made me a tad bit batty. In all seriousness, since my return I’ve done nothing of note. I’ve pottered around the house, did a bit of cooking, some cleaning and organizing, but no major projects, nothing truly productive, and I couldn’t be happier.

Being away made me realize how much I love my home and my city. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all of that, but I hadn’t realized how much I identify myself with my surroundings until this little sojourn. I am truly a homebody, and happy to admit it. While I love travel, I long for home.

Chubby Hubby has been asking the foods we’d travel the world for – and I could immediately volunteer a list of dishes. A slice of pizza from Lachine Arena Pizza in Lachine, the sweet potato and blue cheese fritters (no longer on the menu) at the Raincity Grill in Vancouver, the gravlax from Le Sélect in Toronto or a thali meal at Dasaprakash Hotel in Ooty.

With so much great food writing around, there is also an ever-lengthening list of places I would travel to try the food – places I’ve never been, and those to be revisited, with the hopes of following up on the fabulous food recommendations I read daily. In addition, there are specific home cooks for whom I would travel the globe, just to taste their creations (I’m ready to head to Heidelberg, Michele).

However, there are also meals I would come home for; anything cooked by members of my family, the roast beef sandwiches from our local German delicatessen, the homemade burgers from our “regular” pub, the ginger salad dressing from the sushi place in the city I grew up in … I could go on for days. These are the dishes I obsess over when I’m away – nothing tastes as good, nothing could satiate that yearning, but being home.

Case in point, my single-mindedness entertained a colleague at the conference – she, by the way, is a great girl and one of the nicest people I’ve met in our industry. One evening, on the way to dinner, I spontaneously started babbling about asparagus soup.

Not just any asparagus soup, but specifically the asparagus soup that was currently sitting in my freezer back home. I hadn't wanted to leave the asparagus in my fridge for the duration of my trip, and since I'd made this realization long after dinner, I made a batch of soup and froze it.

For the entire elevator ride I was detailing this soup, extolling its texture, its freshness, its absolute green colour; I was in a state. At dinner, fate would have it that there was asparagus soup on the menu. Yet, I eschewed the idea of ordering it, lest it taint (or overshadow) my thoughts of my soup at home. Clearly I was fixated. Luckily, my colleague found it more amusing than manic.

As you can assume, it was one of the first things I crammed into my greedy little mouth upon arriving back home. Next time, I’ll just bring a thermos.

Roasted asparagus soup
Inspired by a recipe by Roland Passot of La Folie on Epicurious, but it seems to be no longer available - this is my version..

Ingredients
1 lb. asparagus
Approximately 2 teaspoons olive oil
Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
2-3 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 shallots, minced
3/4 cup table (18%) cream
1 1/4 cup chicken stock
2 cups firmly packed chopped spinach (or one package frozen, chopped spinach, defrosted)

Preheat oven to 230°C (450°F).

Snap off ends of spears at natural breaking point, discard. On a rimmed baking sheet, toss asparagus with olive oil, salt and pepper. Roast in oven for about 6-8 minutes, until the asparagus starts to turn a bright green. Shake the pan to turn the asparagus, roast for another 4 minutes or so. The asparagus should be just starting to blister in places. When cool enough to handle, chop the asparagus into 2 inch lengths.

In a saucepan over medium heat, melt the butter. When the butter just begins to foam, add the shallots and sauté until translucent and softened. Add the chopped asparagus and cook, stirring occasionally, for about five minutes. Stir in the cream and stock, and bring to a boil. Cook for 5 minutes. Stir in chopped spinach, cook for 2 minutes more.

Transfer to the soup to a blender (working in batches if necessary), and purée until smooth. For a velvety texture, pass the soup through a fine-meshed sieve or chinois. You may skip this step if you’d like. Adjust seasonings to taste.

Serves two generously, can be served hot or cold.

Notes
• Instead of roasting, you could simply blanch the asparagus before sautéing.
• I've also made this soup with 1 cup 18% and 1 cup stock, just because the store sells the cream in 250ml/1 cup containers. This soup can be made with heavy cream instead, if you want a more luxurious version. When I want a “lighter” version, I substitute 1/4 cup of 2% milk and use only 1/2 cup of the 18% cream.
• If you use the frozen spinach, the soup will have a much more pronounced spinach flavour.
•This soup is lovely with a variety of garnishes — some options include; a seared scallop, crab, sautéed wild mushrooms with balsamic, chili oil drizzled popcorn (trust me), or use the same ingredients as in the panini to make a crostini to float on top.

Goat’s cheese and prosciuitto panini
My own creation, but really, it’s a grilled cheese sandwich.

Ingredients
2 slices prosciutto
1 teaspoon butter
1 teaspoon olive oil
4 thick slices of baguette, or your favourite bread
4 ounces herbed chèvre
Handful of baby greens

In a dry pan over medium heat, fry prosciutto until starting to crisp. Remove from pan, and drain on paper towels.

In the same pan, melt butter and olive oil.

Spread the chèvre over two slices of bread, top with prosciutto. Place remaining slices of bread on top. Grill sandwich in pan, pressing down with either a panini weight or with back of spatula. Cook for approximately 4 minutes on each side, or until bread is toasted and the chèvre is beginning to soften. Remove from heat, drain on paper towels if there is excess oil.

Open sandwiches and tuck in greens. Makes two.