To enjoyable excess

I am passionate about a lot of things. Food, fashion, family and film are all consuming pleasures of mine. But there is something I'm equally fanatical about which might seem somewhat unexpected. I love words.

Language, jargon, definitions - I find all of these simply fascinating, and have for as long as I can remember. Back in school, in Linguistics and Latin classes, lectures on morphology and derivatives were red letter days on the calendar.

Yes, I know. I'm a geek.

But I cannot help myself. I adore nuanced meanings, the way that one right word can say so much more than paragraphs and paragraphs of the wrong ones. A well-chosen phrase can be a study in succinct economy or art itself.

Mellifluous is as poetic as its definition. While lush is lovely, verdant is all the more exuberant in its profusion.

Lately though, one word has been (excuse the pun) on our lips most often - surfeit. With the local trees and fields heavy with fruit, the early summer harvests of berries, currants, sweet peas and cherries are gracing our table. Truly nothing less than luxuriant abundance, we're most often seen feasting on this bounty of beautiful produce out of hand.

However, when recently bestowed with not one, not two, but three baskets of garnet-hued cherries, I felt the little jewels deserved a bed of buttery cake to fully appreciate their depth and colour. Sweet and plump, the gorgeous orbs almost melt, turning luscious and silky while staining the almond-rich batter with their juices.

One taste, and even words aren't necessary - just enjoy.

Almond butter cake with cherries

Ingredients

1 1/2 sticks (12 tablespoons) unsalted butter, at room temperature, plus extra for greasing the pan
1 1/2 cups of granulated sugar, plus extra for preparing the pan
4 large eggs
2/3 cup sour cream
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon grated lemon zest
1 cup ground almonds
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups fresh cherries, pitted and split in half
1/3 cup flaked almonds
1 1/2 tablespoons Demerara sugar (optional)

Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C). Generously butter a 10" springform pan, and set aside (see note).

In the bowl of a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, or with a hand beater, cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Lower the speed and add the eggs, one at a time, beating until fully incorporated. Scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed.

In a small bowl, combine the sour cream, vanilla extract and lemon zest.

In another bowl, sift together the almonds, flour, baking powder and salt.

Add half the flour to the butter mixture, beating until blended. Add the sour cream mixture, beating again and scraping down the sides of the bowl. Finish with the remaining flour and stir until just combined.

Spread the batter evenly in the prepared pan. Sprinkle over the cut cherries, the almonds and the Demerara sugar (if using). Bake for approximately 40 minutes, or until lightly golden and a cake tester comes out clean.

Notes:

• For the photograph, I used two 11"x8"x1" removable bottom tart pans. The cakes took about 30 minutes to bake.
• Alternatively, lightly toast the almonds in a dry pan before topping the tart.
• Other fruits, plums and apricots for example, can be substituted.

SHF #32: My (ice cream) craving

When Jennifer proposed the theme of this month's Sugar High my thoughts, as one who knows me at all would surely assume, turned to yearnings for chocolate.

But, though happy in those thoughts, I began to consider that which I most longed for as of late. Not a food or flavour specifically, but more of a mood or moment - I'd been pining for the arrival of summertime.

Sure, the mercury has been on the rise and the trees are well dressed in their abundant leaves, but somehow it still has not felt summer enough. It was not those broad shouldered, blue-eyed lazy days of August, where the sun smiles so brightly that the world seems lit from within.

So how could I evoke this feeling through food?

In southern Ontario, the warming months bring bustle back to farmers markets. Roadside fruit stands seem to multiply exponentially overnight. Punnets, pints and bushels make their way back into our weekend lexicon as the harvests roll in.

And the harvest inextricably tied to the season? Berries. Luscious and bursting with a sweetness born of sunshine, the ripening of Ontario strawberries coincides perfectly with the official start of summer.

Classic in every way, this strawberry swirl ice cream embodies nostalgic thoughts of childhood holidays. This is the taste of evenings on the swingset at my favourite ice cream stand; white stripes of cream coating our arms to our elbows as we sat, sucking the icy bits of strawberry until they turned supple and soft again.

Here, I wanted a taste that was purely luxurious berries and cream, and so chose to go with a dense, velvety rich vanilla custard base punctuated with tart strawberries. The psychedelic tie dye effect of broad ribbons of reddest red against the creamy whiteness was the look I had wanted, but feel free to blend the strawberries further for a more feminine hue.

Strawberry swirl ice cream
My interpretation of a variety of sources, with thanks.

Ingredients
2 cups half and half (10%) cream
1 vanilla bean, split lengthwise
A pinch of salt
5 egg yolks
1 cup heavy cream (35%, whipping)
2/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar, divided
2 cups fresh strawberries
1/8 -1/4 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

Prepare an ice bath using a large bowl full of ice and water. Have another bowl, one that will fit inside the first without becoming fully submerged, set aside.

In a heavy-based saucepan pour in the half and half. Using the back of a knife, scrape the seeds out of the bean and into the saucepan, add the pod as well. Season with salt. Over medium heat, bring this mixture to a simmer. Turn off the heat and allow the vanilla to infuse into the liquid for 30 minutes.

Turn the burner back on and bring the mixture back to a gentle simmer over medium-low.

In a bowl that can withstand heat, whisk together the egg yolks and 2/3 cup of sugar until it becomes pale yellow and fluffy. Whisking constantly, pour a thin, steady stream of the half and half into the yolk mixture. Once combined, pour the mixture back into the same saucepan and return to the heat. Using a wooden spoon, stir the custard constantly until thickened and coats the back of the spoon, anywhere from 6 to 10 minutes.

Using a medium-fine mesh sieve, strain the custard into the clean bowl set aside earlier. Immediately place this bowl into the ice bath. Stir occasionally until the custard comes to room temperature. The vanilla bean can be taken at this point, rinsed and set aside to dry on a kitchen towel. Once dry, it can be used to make vanilla sugar.

Once the custard has cooled, stir in the the heavy cream. Cover and refrigerate until well chilled (I like a good couple of hours).

Meanwhile, mash the strawberries with the remaining 1 tablespoon sugar and lemon juice. Set aside at room temperature to macerate.

When the custard is chilled, follow the manufacturer's instructions to churn the ice cream. Once the ice cream is ready, remove the machine's dasher and gently fold in the strawberries and their juices. Do not overmix. Transfer to a food storage container then tightly seal and freeze for at least 2 hours.

Makes 1 quart.

Notes:

• Decadent as this version is, richer versions feature as many as 6 egg yolks for the same amount of liquid and a higher ratio of heavy cream to half and half (or milk). Choose the one that best suits your taste.
• If there seems to be too much accumulated strawberry juice, hold some back to maintain the texture of the ice cream - you do not want it to become waterlogged (well, juicelogged).
• For a pink version, rather than the marbled result here, strain the accumulated juices from the strawberries into the cooled custard before pouring into the machine. Add the strawberries through the feed tube during the last 5 minutes of churning.

There are no small parts, just small ingredients

While it is lovely when expectations are met, the greatest performances are sometimes those that are stumbled upon and steal the show entirely.

To more succinct in this particular case, stumbled upon means came home in our grocery bag.

I had intended to make something to satiate a craving for smoked salmon. I had decided upon a sandwich. I had thought I would thinly slice some red onion, sprinkle over some capers and be done with it.

But then the tomatoes arrived; Sean had gone to the store for provisions, and came back with some of the most gorgeous little beauties from the market. Golden yellow, sunset orange and robustly red, the pint of mixed varietals demanded the spotlight.

Their delicate scent courted centre-stage status; a paltry sandwich seemed too gauche for their charms. And so, the smoked salmon was relegated to the chorus line, providing the backdrop to a tomato salad-crowned tartine.

Like any good production, this light lunch offers a play of dramatic contrasts. Heavily silken folds of salmon are undercut with the twang of fresh chèvre and astringent lemon. Juicy tomatoes rendezvous with their long-time companion sweet basil, and take a tumble with saline capers and spiky, fiery red onion.

While I refrained from a standing ovation, an encore is surely deserved.

Smoked salmon and tomato salad tartine
Please forgive my lack of truly specific quantities; you can treat the list as if each item includes the modifier "or thereabouts". This is one of those dishes for which personal taste is paramount. Choose the proportions that work with your taste to best balance the salty, sour and sweet elements.

Ingredients

For the tomato salad
1 1/2 cups small tomatoes (cherry, grape, strawberry), cut into halves or quarters
1/3 cup small diced red onion
2-3 tablespoons capers, rinsed
Basil, cut into chiffonade
Fresh parsley, minced
Lemon zest
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the sandwich
4 tablespoons cream cheese
4 tablespoons chèvre (unaged, fresh)
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
4 slices country bread, or 2 slices halved if large
4-8 slices smoked salmon, depending on the size
Lemon juice, freshly squeezed

In a small bowl, combine the ingredients for the tomato salad. Toss gently and season with salt (judiciously) and pepper.

Combine the cream cheese, chèvre and Dijon mustard. Beat until fully-blended and light. Season with pepper.

Lightly toast bread slices under a preheated broiler.

Spread cheese mixture over bread. Top with sliced smoked salmon and a squeeze of lemon juice. Pile tomato salad over all and enjoy.

Makes 4 pieces.

What I did over summer vacation ....

While I may have not had the opportunity to sit in front of the computer lately, I have been managing to spend a good deal of time standing in front of the stove (and grill, and oven and cutting board). True to my word, here is a list of some of the recipes that have been keeping me busy, and our bellies full, over the summer. If there are any items of particular interest, please feel free to let me know and I would be more than happy to provide additional information. Happy eating!

Legend

BCFS= Barefoot Contessa Family Style, Ina Garten
BIP = Barefoot in Paris, Ina Garten
FS= Forever Summer, Nigella Lawson
MSBH = Martha Stewart’s Baking Handbook, Martha Stewart
NC= The Naked Chef, Jamie Oliver
TBCC = The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook, Ina Garten
TIC = The Instant Cook, Donna Hay
* = Recipe prepared with changes

Those items without notation are my own.

Breakfast

• Pancakes: I have a standby recipe of my own but I've recently been experimenting with these as well.
• Hashed browns (BCFS)
• Frittata with chèvre and oven-roasted tomatoes

Mains

• Herb-baked eggs (BIP)
• Lemon and parsley chicken (TIC)
• Grilled chicken and vegetable stacks (TIC)
• Griddled aubergines with feta, mint and chili (FS)
• My Mom's pea and mushroom subsi
• Tabbouleh with chickpeas
• Ben’s tomato and herb spaghetti
• Salmon and asparagus tart
• Le grand aiöli
• Seared tuna with mango salsa: The salsa is great as printed, but I have tweaked the recipe. In once case, I used sriracha chili sauce instead of the jalapeno and added some toasted sesame oil to finish. On another occasion I used peaches in the salsa, to pair with a grilled chili-rubbed pork loin.
• Roast leg of lamb (NC)
• Rack of lamb persillade (BIP)
• Perfect roast chicken (TBCC): I do not actually use Garten's recipe exactly, but this is the closest to my method and a source of inspiration.

Desserts

• One-bowl chocolate cupcakes* (MSBH): made once as cupcakes, once as a layered slab cake. Both delicious, moist and insanely popular.
• Dark chocolate frosting (MSBH)
• Outrageous chocolate cookies*
• Double Chocolate Cheesecake*: I am told family members fought over this cake.
• Blueberry cheesecake
• Mixed berry cream cake
• Arborio rice pudding: Instead of apples and caramel, I recently made this with mango purée and cardamom.
• Honey poached peaches: Recipe below.

Honey poached peaches
If at all possible, start these peaches the day before serving. I love the visual combination of the spiky green pistachio slivers against smooth, blushed peach cheeks. It is the perfect dessert to linger over in the late summer sun.

Ingredients
3 cups water
5 tablespoons honey
3 tablespoons sugar
1 vanilla bean, split lengthways
5-6 medium peaches, about 1 kilogram in total, halved lengthways (see note)

In a medium saucepan, combine water, honey, sugar and vanilla bean. Cover and simmer for 5 minutes. Add peach halves cut side down (this may need to be done in batches), and simmer uncovered for 3-4 minutes. Turn using a pair of spoons and simmer for an additional 2-3 minutes, until the flesh is just tender when pricked with the tip of a knife or tines of a fork. Cooking time will, of course, depend on the ripeness of the fruit. Using a slotted spoon, remove to a bowl and continue until all the peaches are cooked.

Increase the heat and boil the remaining poaching liquid until reduced to a syrup consistency. The poaching will stain the syrup a pink-peach, which will deepen upon reduction.

While the liquid is reducing, use your fingers to peel the skins off the peaches and remove any remaining stones.

Pull out the vanilla pod and pour syrup over the peaches. Cover and chill, for at least an hour or preferably overnight. The longer the peaches sit, the more they will soak up the deeply aromatic liquid.

Serve as pictured with ricotta cream and a sprinkling of slivered pistachios, or over ice cream or simply as they are.

Serves 4-6.

Notes:

• If the peaches are freestone, then remove stones before cooking. If not, then pit after cooking. Leaving the peels on the peaches will not only protect the tender flesh, but also tattoo the fruit a mottled sunset hue.
• Testing for doneness on the cut side of the peach helps to hide any marks.
• My dear Sean’s mother suggests these peaches on top of Belgian waffles for a truly decadent brunch.

A moment in the sun

It seems just yesterday it was spring and I was preoccupied with thoughts of pillows of ricotta and berries; yet the calendar tells another tale. Somehow four months have slipped by, each day feeling all too short.

I have been caught in a whirlwind of family, friends and new motherhood. Learning how to function in each of those roles, all the while furtively attempting to hold on to each precious moment of the lessons.

And suddenly, it is August.

Broad, blue skies are lit with late-summer sunshine. My meagre potted garden has exploded in riotous green. The frenzied pace of high summer has abated, along with its still heat.

Evidently tempered by the relatively moderate weather, my thoughts (even if not my schedule) have slowed to an easygoing lull. Whether it is the season, or sheer exhasution, this shift in pace has allowed me a moment to reflect and gather my thoughts before we move forward.

While eloquence seems to be called for, all I can do is take it all in and smile.

I’ll be posting a list, with recipes and links, of some of the dishes that have kept us busy. I promise you will not have to wait as long as the last time.