tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-92220527588131326432024-03-04T20:21:01.570-08:00Tummy GrumblesI used to complain a lot and then I channelled that energy into baking. Now instead of me grumbling, I hear the various tummies in my house making that noise!Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-27658164024831943742016-06-28T19:33:00.000-07:002016-06-28T19:33:55.075-07:00Giving Away My SecretsOkay, I hate to admit this, but there's a part of me that is very much like my ancestors. Senior relatives, to be more precise. <br />
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<blockquote class="instagram-media" data-instgrm-captioned="" data-instgrm-version="7" style="background: #fff; border-radius: 3px; border: 0; box-shadow: 0 0 1px 0 rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.5) , 0 1px 10px 0 rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.15); margin: 1px; max-width: 658px; padding: 0; width: 99.375%;">
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BHF7EhWBpGJ/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Everyone said such nice things about my pie yesterday evening. So I made another one! #keylime</a></div>
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A photo posted by Naomi (@woobiesmum) on <time datetime="2016-06-25T21:28:22+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Jun 25, 2016 at 2:28pm PDT</time></div>
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Normally, I love to share my recipes because I know what it's like to taste something so divine and then never be able to have it again because the creator/chef/baker has shuffled off to the great kitchen in the sky. There are so many things my late husband used to make that I wish I had learned to do, or at least made him write or type out while he was still here.<br />
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However, there is a part of me that knows when I do something really good. And I don't really want to share because I want to be the special person who makes that one special thing. I know that is childish and selfish, but hey, if my eightysomething aunts can be like that, as was my late grandmother, then I can't help it if my genetics creep in every once in a while.<br />
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This is one of those recipes. Everyone has a go-to recipe for a tough crowd. Mine is Key Lime Pie. I actually don't like pie. I know, I know...but I don't. I know I make a damn good pie. But as I've said here, time and time again, I love to cook for others. That gives me more pleasure than eating what I've made. Hell, if I've made it, I can make it for myself any time I like. <br />
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Whenever I'm feeling like crap, instead of posting a Selfie to get compliments, I just make a Key Lime Pie.<br />
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So here is my not-so secret recipe. Because I can't take it with me. And, in spite of all the compliments and ego-boosts I receive when I make it, I'm still single. <br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">KEY LIME PIE</span></span></b><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Makes 1 – 9” pie</span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Heat oven to
350F.</span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<u><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Crust</span></span></u><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">:</span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">1 prepared
graham crust </span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">OR</span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">1 cup graham cracker crumbs</span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">¼ cup unsalted butter, melted</span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">1 Tbsp. granulated sugar (optional)</span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Combine all
ingredients in a bowl and blend together with a pastry blender or fork until
all crumbs are moist. Pour into a 9” Pyrex or tin foil pie plate and press the
crumbs to the pan, making sure that your crust is at least 1/8” thick all
over. When the crumbs have been pressed
and formed, bake the empty shell (no weights required) for at least 7 min in
the oven until the crumbs are golden brown but not too dark. Take the shell out
to cool while you make the filling.</span></span></div>
<u><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Filling</span></span></u><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">:</span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">12 key limes OR
4-5 regular limes to give you 2 tsp. of lime zest and ½ cup freshly-squeezed
lime juice. </span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">4 egg yolks</span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">1 – 300 mL tin
of condensed milk</span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">If you are using
actual key limes, this will be more labour-intensive since it’s harder to zest
them, but the flavour is so worth it. To bring more juice out of larger limes,
microwave each lime for no more than 10 seconds before cutting and juicing
them. Beware of seeds! </span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Keep your lime
zest separate from your juice. Once you have your mise-en-place (zest in one
thing, juice in another, opened your tin, and separated the eggs (keep the
whites out for the end)), take a large bowl (not gigantic but bigger than
medium) and beat your egg yolks to the ribbon stage, when they are light and
creamy in colour, and have thickened to the point when you lift the whisk, the
egg yolks cascade from the tip like a beautiful yellow ribbon. </span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i>(If you are
using a machine, use hand beaters. Don’t use a food processor or a stand mixer.
You will overbeat the eggs and you’ll curse how difficult it is to clean up
this thing. I mix everything by hand because I get a workout.)</i></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Once your egg
yolks have reached the ribbon stage, add the entire tin of condensed milk and
half of the lime juice (so ¼ cup). Beat ingredients until well-combined. This
is not as easy as it looks, but the lime juice helps to cut the condensed milk
into the yolks. Once this mixture is
well-blended, add the lime zest and the rest of the juice and mix until just
combined. Do NOT overbeat!</span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Scrape and pour
and pour and scrape the mix into the pie shell. Don’t worry if it’s lopsided or
has a funny top. The top will smooth out in the baking. </span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Bake for about 8
minutes and check by wobbling the pan. If the pie wobbles, leave it for no more
than four (4) minutes. Do not overbake – it should not take longer than 12 min
at 350F to set. Once the centre is no longer wobbling, the pie is done. A teeny
bit of wetness is okay but not full on jello-style wobbling like it was when
you put it in. Allow to cool.</span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">There are
several ways you can eat your key lime pie.</span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">One is plain,
i.e. the way it looks right now. </span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">One is topped
with whipped cream (Chantilly icing). If you’re going to do that, then whip the
cream in the stand mixer or by hand. Freshly-whipped cream is easier to spread
on top of a pie than the stuff you squirt. </span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">The third is
meringue. Those egg whites you had from above – make sure they are room
temperature, which they should be by the time you finish making and baking your
pie. First, throw your oven on at 400, or take out a blow torch. Throw the whites in
the stand mixer with 1 Tbsp warm water and ¼ tsp of cream of tartar. Throw the
switch to high and let it go until the whites are at the soft peak stage (take
the mixer out and the peaks fall into themselves) Then add 1/4 to 1/2 cup of
sugar, sprinkling it over the egg whites. Continue to whip until egg whites are
stiff – when you take the beaters out, the mix should stand like Mt.
Everest. Spread or pipe the egg whites
on top of the key lime pie. You can totally torch the pie if you want to freak
people out, but first, you may want to bake it in the oven for about 10 minutes
or so. Then, when the whites have sort of set, pull it out and blowtorch it, or
turn your broiler on and leave the pie under it until the edges of the whites
start to turn golden brown. </span></span><br />
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<br />Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-74919028904570366912016-05-24T19:52:00.001-07:002016-05-24T19:53:07.312-07:00I'm Back - With Cheese<blockquote class="instagram-media" data-instgrm-captioned="" data-instgrm-version="7" style="background: #fff; border-radius: 3px; border: 0; box-shadow: 0 0 1px 0 rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.5) , 0 1px 10px 0 rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.15); margin: 1px; max-width: 658px; padding: 0; width: 99.375%;">
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BFkWSwvzEc2/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Shiitake scallion risotto with...aged white cheddar! So amazing I can't believe I made this. I used homemade chicken stock too! #quickdinner #mushrooms #donttelltheitalians</a></div>
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A photo posted by Naomi (@woobiesmum) on <time datetime="2016-05-19T00:00:40+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">May 18, 2016 at 5:00pm PDT</time></div>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I’m back on the blog! I’ve neglected this
one for too long. And it’s a shame really, because people have asked me for
more recipes since I stopped posting than they did before. So I’m going to start
posting again, because recipes are in and of themselves creators of stories. </span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Why this recipe to (re)start with? A lot of
people have asked about this risotto. Really, it’s not that difficult. If you
can stir a pot, and you know the difference between wet and dry, you can pretty
well make risotto. It does require you to stand at a stove for at least 20 – 30
minutes, though. But you’ve probably spent more than that in line for some free
item, concert tickets, or to be patted down by security at the ACC. At least
you won’t feel nearly as violated. </span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Making risotto is a sensual experience. You
will use your ears, your eyes, your nose (of course), your sense of touch and
taste. It’s one of those dishes you must pay attention to, and if you do have
ADHD, there’s enough sensory stuff going on to keep you from being distracted.
(That’s no joke; my son has ADHD and he could make sense of the risotto AND
sing at the same time.)</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">What makes this slightly different is that
I didn’t use parmigiana reggiano. I didn’t even use parmesan. I used…cheddar.
Yes. Stop fainting. It’s possible to use cheddar, a good cheddar, in risotto, and
not mess it up. It goes with the nuttiness of the shiitakes the way it would on
a cheese board with walnuts.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">So, without further ado, here you go. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><b><u>Shiitake Risotto with Aged Cheddar</u></b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">110g (4 oz) shiitake mushrooms, stems
removed, sliced or chopped</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">2 sprigs green onion, chopped</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">4 Tbsp. butter, unsalted, at room
temperature</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">2 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil </span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">1 ½ cups arborio or carnaroli or calrose (short-grain) rice</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">1L stock, preferably unsalted, heated and
kept at a simmer (you can use vegetable or chicken stock, but nothing with a
heavy flavour like beef stock or asparagus stock)</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">¼ cup finely grated aged white cheddar (not
the big holes in the box grater, and not the fine holes for hard cheese, but
the tiny holes that look like minis of the big holes. Or just use a wood
plainer or nutmeg grater)</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Salt, to taste (optional)</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Freshly-ground pepper</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Chopped flat-leaf Italian parsley (to
taste)</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Equipment: large skillet, wooden spoon (for
the love of all things holy PLEASE use a wooden spoon), ladle with 1/3 – 1/2 cup
bowl, cheese grater, and large eyes (optional)*</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">*</span><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> I don’t really measure accurately for
this recipe. I eye up the size, and so when I say “large eyes”, I mean an
overestimate of the size, not so much that a teaspoon is now six tablespoons,
but that one tablespoon is about 1 ½ or maybe even 2 by volume. If you’re
scared to use your eye, you can use measuring tools and things will still turn
out fine.</span></i></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">First things first: are you using a
no-stick skillet or a pro-stick skillet? If you are using non-stick, then you
will have to be extra vigilant with your risotto, as you won’t be able to hear
the sizzle of the stock for as long a time as you do a pro-stick pan. I used a
non-stick pan for this because my largest skillet happens to be non-stick. I
find I prefer to use a pro-stick skillet for risotto to keep me on my toes, but
it’s up to you.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">1.</span><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Make sure your pot with the
stock is on a burner near the burner where you will be placing the skillet.
Keep the stock at a simmer or scald (steaming with the slightest bubble) once
heated. Never use cold stock for a risotto. (Try it, and you’ll see what I
mean.)</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">2.</span><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Heat skillet on medium heat on
stove, adding 2Tbsp olive oil and 2Tbsp butter to the pan. When the butter has
melted and started to clarify (the milk solids sink to the bottom of the oil)
add green onions and stir with wooden spoon to coat. Add chopped mushrooms and sauté
until the mushrooms have absorbed the oil and butter and onions are translucent
(about 2 – 4 min).</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">3.</span><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">When oil and butter have been
absorbed, add 1Tbsp butter back into the pan. As soon as that butter melts, add
all of the rice, and stir to coat the rice in the butter and mix the mushrooms
and onions in. When the rice becomes translucent, all of it (this will take
about 4 – 5 min of continual stirring), and all of the butter has been
absorbed, take a look at your rice. This is what “dry” will look like – no
liquid in the bottom of the pan, rice making a slight sizzling sound.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">4.</span><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Using your ladle, add 1 ladleful
(but no more than ½ cup) of stock to the rice and stir it in. It should sound
like liquid hitting a hot pan, sizzle sizzle sizzle, until you start stirring.
Make sure your rice absorbs all of the stock. It should appear almost dry again,
and you will hear whispers, if anything, from your rice. If there is a little
liquid left, keep stirring it in. Do figure 8 stirring. Whatever you have to do,
but do not…DO NOT…add more liquid until the liquid you’ve added has been
absorbed. That’s the key to risotto. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">5.</span><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Once your rice is dry, add
another ladle of stock and stir. Add one ladle at a time. Don’t get cocky and
add more than I’m telling you to add. You’ll lose control and end up with
something that is inedible. Trust me. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">6.</span><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">So after about the 5</span><sup><span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup><span style="font-family: "calibri";">
ladleful, just after the liquid has been absorbed – it should take a little
longer each time, which means the rice is actually absorbing the liquid, and
the pan gets whisper quiet – take a couple grains of rice from the pot with a
teeny spoon or fork and bite down. If it’s completely hard, then add another
ladleful and keep going. If it’s starting to give, then add a little less than
a ladleful of stock. You want the risotto rice to be al dente – not RAW inside,
but with a bit of give. At this point, the rice grains should be softish on the
outside but a teeny bit crunchy on the inside. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">7.</span><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">After your next stock addition
and absorption, check again. Is your rice getting a little softer in the middle
but still tough? Good. Add ¼ to ½ ladleful of stock and stir. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">8.</span><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Once your rice is al dente
(which means firm in the middle, not raw, not tough), add the last tablespoon
of butter and the grated cheese. Turn off the stove, and stir to melt them in.
This is something you would NOT do if you use parmesan or reggiano cheese. You
need more heat to mix a harder cheese in. You need less heat for a softer
cheese. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">9.</span><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Once your butter and cheese has
been incorporated, taste your dish one last time and add fresh ground pepper to
taste. If you need more salt, add a touch more cheese or the tiniest dash of
sea salt. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Serve right away. Risotto does not do well
if it sits for too long. </span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">So enjoy and let me know how it comes out!
Tag me on Instagram and follow me to see what’s going on in my
kitchen. </span></span></div>
Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-885847137419960222014-10-26T21:10:00.000-07:002014-10-26T21:10:11.877-07:00The Last Apple Cinnamon Cheesecake (with Recipe)<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(The original of this blog was published at </span><a href="http://thebadwriter.blogspot.ca/"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://thebadwriter.blogspot.ca</span></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"> . This version includes pictures and the recipe for the cheesecake. Enjoy.)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhxsf3duZKTykZLJMSrz0aI8gsOSm_xhSX6LAsNTNUyzaXcM-DYYPsePB92so5NfIr_okuIbaVpff6dhKe-KLdX0ofsYLOnELNL9HMgvfNmlEEa6mRC28bb4QSjkzbSCJUKXG_hbX_Qorx/s1600/IMG_20141025_093216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhxsf3duZKTykZLJMSrz0aI8gsOSm_xhSX6LAsNTNUyzaXcM-DYYPsePB92so5NfIr_okuIbaVpff6dhKe-KLdX0ofsYLOnELNL9HMgvfNmlEEa6mRC28bb4QSjkzbSCJUKXG_hbX_Qorx/s1600/IMG_20141025_093216.jpg" height="640" width="474" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s
strange cooking for someone who used to eat your food.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s not
that I haven’t been through death before. I have. Several times. I think I’ve
even gone to a funeral for someone who’s eaten something I brought in for a pot
luck. </span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I know that my late husband ate my cooking. I’ve been cooking for a while. But I don’t think of myself of having come into my own as far as cooking, baking, and/or preserving goes until after he passed away, and even moreso after the birth of my son, the one who gave me a valid reason to learn to do these things. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This time it's different. My BFF lost her stepmother, Bonnie, this week. </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Bonnie was a great lady. She was full of life. </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I know Bonnie used
to like cheesecake, and she’s had several of my desserts. So that’s what makes
this weird. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The first thing
we do as a world culture is make sure the family of the deceased eats. In
certain cultures, you don’t even let the grieving family go near the kitchen –
you bring food, you send food, you order catering – but they are the survivors,
and they have to survive. We need food and water and oxygen to survive. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There’s
been a lot of grieving this week in my life, but in the life of my country as
well. It’s been hard being a Canadian this week. And when I say that I don’t
mean being Canadian – it’s been easier to be Canadian this week than it was
during the Winter Olympics earlier this year. It’s just been hard here. We as a
collective have been through the gamut. We had our collective hearts broken and
torn out by senseless acts of violence. We’ve had our hope restored through
people whom we had come to regard as figureheads. And we have come together as
a nation – for the most part – to help each other survive this mess and keep
going forward.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And in the middle
of all of this, before it even began, my BFF lost someone she loved and cared
for. In the middle of her family’s private grief, there was this very public
loss and grief. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And that’s
the day she reached out to ask for help. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I
decided to make something I haven’t made in a while. A cheesecake. I’m not sure
why that’s the first thing I thought of, since I have apples and it’s pie
season. It’s a helluvalot easier to bake a pie than to make a cheesecake. But I
think it was because I hadn’t made one for a while. And it just seemed like the
right time to make one.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So Rest In
Peace, Bonnie Smith. Thank you for being you, and for being kind to me at a
time when I felt like a stranger in my own land. I really wish you were here to
have a piece of this apple cinnamon cheesecake I’m making for you. You take
care, and rest well until we meet again. Hopefully you will be there to guide
me through another place where I’m going to feel like a stranger in a strange
land. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<u><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Apple Cinnamon Cheesecake</span></u><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The recipe and method is the same as the <a href="http://grumbleoftheday.blogspot.ca/2010/10/so-now-were-in-october.html" target="_blank">Pumpkin Cheesecake</a> I published earlier, except in place of 2 cups of pumpkin, you would use 2 cups of baked Honeycrisp Apple puree. With the change of fruit, you would use 2 heaping tsp of cinnamon, 1/4 heaping tsp. cloves, and 1/2 tsp. nutmeg as spices. </span></div>
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</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span>Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-55554633087648972052014-06-07T11:17:00.000-07:002014-06-07T11:17:26.601-07:00June 7, 2014 - My Canadian Voice<br />
<a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/2013/05/06/announcing-the-canadian-food-experience-project/" style="background-color: white; color: #9ecf71; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.790000915527344px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">The Canadian Food Experience Project</span></span></em></a><em style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.790000915527344px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> began <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_527569660" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ">June 7 2013</span></span>. As we (</span></em><a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/the-canadian-food-experience-project-participants/" style="background-color: white; color: #9ecf71; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.790000915527344px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">participants</span></span></em></a><em style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.790000915527344px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">) share our collective stories across the vastness of our Canadian landscape through our regional food experiences, we hope to bring global clarity to our Canadian culinary identity through the cadence of our concerted Canadian voice. Please join us.</span></em><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE4xiddgAcGN9_wAFHG3_hziRFqwkHwbNR9-gfSJe8hrNJkXa-o8Ene6RWDwLtydvk0aKcKMazxM1LlU06iKk3BrvyDPwKSpNNNbJuouY0jXJyiMGeXskvs795Z_Uqxc7knA_4GbbWlKOb/s1600/IMAG1332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE4xiddgAcGN9_wAFHG3_hziRFqwkHwbNR9-gfSJe8hrNJkXa-o8Ene6RWDwLtydvk0aKcKMazxM1LlU06iKk3BrvyDPwKSpNNNbJuouY0jXJyiMGeXskvs795Z_Uqxc7knA_4GbbWlKOb/s1600/IMAG1332.jpg" height="320" width="181" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.790000915527344px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></em>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Exactly one year ago, I was up early one Saturday morning,
editing a piece that I was going to read aloud at an open mic night. In spite
of all of the Hemingway stereotypes, writers long to be distracted from the
page. I found myself drawn to a tweet from Canadian culinary superstar and huge
supporter of my late husband, Lucy Waverman, promoting The Canadian Food
Experience Project by our dear <a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.ca/" target="_blank">Valerie Lugonja.</a> Valerie was asking food
bloggers (one of whom I had recently become) to participate in a 13-month
project to express our love for, and share our experiences about, Canadian food.
<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I signed up a year ago, I wasn’t sure if I would fit
in. After all, many of the others had been writing and styling their blogs for
longer than I had. I hoped my enthusiasm would show through, and people would
be interested in reading about my unique perspective as a first-generation
Canadian. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So first off, thank you all so much for taking the time to
read my blogs for the past year. You have encouraged me to continue past the
last day of this project. I hope to write a food blog entry for you at least
once a month to be uploaded on or around the 7<sup>th</sup>. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But this month’s entry is entitled “My Canadian Voice”. So
what makes my perspective more interesting and distinct from others? My parents
came here during the great influx of the 60s, during the conception of
multiculturalism in Canada. Canadian cities are distinct from other major world
cities for that very reason alone. We
were doing fusion cuisine in Canada long before the rest of the world caught on
- my mother would take ingredients that were uniquely Canadian and adapt her
recipes from home to suit what could be found locally. “Authentic” dishes made
with the correct ingredients from her country no longer taste right to me,
because my versions are Canadianized. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And given my background and upbringing, who would have
thought that I would even be interested in making an almost-perfect schmoo
cake, looking for the perfect butter tart (without raisins, ugh) and extolling
the virtues of red fife flour. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I love this country, and everything it stands for, no matter
who happens to be in parliament at any governmental level. Food brings us
together, and Canadians staunchly defend our dishes of national pride, such as
poutine and peameal bacon. Our problem is that, unfortunately, we’re really not
aware of a lot of our regional dishes. For instance, Valerie had never heard of
a schmoo cake. And before I had gone to Winnipeg and had it on a special trip,
I didn’t know either. Through this project we have learned a lot more about
each other and our regional treasures, and in so doing, have developed our
Canadian culinary pride.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjT3d3WlWBg8RlN7TqS_ND-43XAznFhZvBQ0JHwRE2F_hSfsRaShDZc-IRS0-A4EWSxc1cAJQb8m2VUT42eWB8d7_oz-APXrPb2AV7j0kyvgpWlfUUmfbE_ulw-NdmidZ-1QZUrgexukF/s1600/IMG_20140510_154945.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjT3d3WlWBg8RlN7TqS_ND-43XAznFhZvBQ0JHwRE2F_hSfsRaShDZc-IRS0-A4EWSxc1cAJQb8m2VUT42eWB8d7_oz-APXrPb2AV7j0kyvgpWlfUUmfbE_ulw-NdmidZ-1QZUrgexukF/s1600/IMG_20140510_154945.jpg" height="320" width="237" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
So for my final recipe for the Canadian Food Experience
Project, I have to talk about something that separates the foodies from the
hipsters – fiddleheads. You either salivated or shirked at the mention of the
word, if you know your mettle. Fiddleheads are also grown in the northern US,
but then again, they also attempt to make maple syrup in Vermont. Any good
Canadian knows the best fiddleheads are from the East Coast, growing wild in
the forests. We have fiddlehead farms in Ontario, and yes, they are adequate,
but nothing is as pungent or as robustly green as East Coast fiddleheads. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Where my parents are from, they have many bitter green
vegetables, and I suppose my love of fiddleheads comes from those roots. And as
usual with something Canadian, there are crazy rules that go along with the
preparation of fiddleheads. The Canada Food Guide suggests you cook fiddleheads
for at least 10 minutes before you actually cook them, to avoid being poisoned.
The Canada Food Guide also recommends that all burgers be cooked beyond
recognition before serving them. And we food people understand why they have to
say these things. The last thing you want is some person becoming sick, or
worse, because they wanted to try something new. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
So, in keeping with the guidelines, I will recommend that
you please boil your fiddleheads for 10 minutes before you cook them in your
recipe. But I won’t come to your kitchen and enforce the rules.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
One thing you do have to make sure is that they are washed
properly. No brown leaves, no leaf rot. Fill a big bowl with water, throw the
fiddleheads in, and wash each individual fiddlehead until all the brown leaves are
gone. Then dump the water, refill the bowl, and do it again. And then, dump the
water, fill the bowl, and wash the fiddleheads for a third time. After the
third draining they are ready to be used.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Fiddleheads are as diverse as asparagus or broccoli or any
other green veggie. Lucy Waverman herself recommends coating them in olive oil,
salt, and pepper, and roasting them on a parchment-covered cookie sheet at 400F
until they are crispy and you can eat them like fries. But here, I made a kid-friendly
fiddlehead creamy pasta. It’s fairly easy, and it’s pretty, tasty, and you can
get your kid who runs from green vegetables to finish his fiddleheads!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u><br /></u>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><u>Fiddlehead Primavera</u><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(serves 4 – 6)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">1 – 1 ½ lbs of fresh fiddleheads (I have never used frozen, but since
the season is over, you might have to look for those), washed well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">½ lb fresh mushrooms (I used creminis), sliced<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">1 medium onion, diced<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">2 – 3 large cloves of garlic, diced<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">1 cup frozen peas (optional)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">1/4 cup butter <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">1 Tbsp olive oil (can be regular, it doesn’t need to be EVOO)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">1/3 cup milk and 2/3 cup whipping cream (or, if you are worried about
fat, then have 1 Tbsp flour or tapioca at the ready with an additional 1 Tbsp
butter)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Thyme, rosemary, oregano<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Salt and pepper<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">500g of pasta made from durum semolina (spaghettini is the favourite in
our household)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Grated parmesan cheese (you could use parmigiano-reggiano, but parmesan
is made in Canada)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Once the fiddleheads have been washed according to the
directions above, steam them for about 7 minutes until their colour just starts
to turn. In the interim, melt about 2 Tbsp butter and the olive oil in a skillet
over medium-high heat. Once the butter stops foaming, add the mushrooms and
coat them well in the butter and oil. Lower the stove to medium. The pan should
dry out and your mushrooms may appear to be scorching. Just keep stirring them
or making them jump and in about 2 – 3 minutes, the mushrooms will start to
soften and release liquid. Once the mushrooms are done to your liking, set them
aside. The fiddleheads should be finished by now; remove the steamer from
overtop of the water but do not immerse the fiddleheads to halt the cooking. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">In a large pan, melt the rest of the butter, and, once
again, after it has stopped foaming, add the onion and saute until tender. Add
the garlic at this point; toss with the onions just until the garlic releases
its fragrance. Add the mushrooms, then add the fiddleheads. Toss until
everything is well-coated. Add the peas at this point, but if you are using
frozen peas, rinse them under tepid water and drain before adding them. Once
all the veggies are heated and coated well, (if you are making a roux, add the
flour and butter into the pan, and coat everything well) add the milks and stir
until your sauce is at its desired thickness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Meanwhile, prepare your pasta according to the package
directions and your preference. My son prefers things a little more than al
dente. Once the pasta has been drained, and your sauce is at the desired
thickness, add the pasta into the pan, along with the fresh herbs you want to
use, and toss it with the sauce. While you let the sauce thicken again, since
it will become loose, add a handful of grated parmesan to speed up the
thickening process. Add pepper and taste to see if you still need to add salt
(the cheese can be pretty salty). Season to taste. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes, this is a very simple recipe. But that’s what has been
great about this whole experience. We are all simple Canadians, brought
together through our love for our unique food. Hope you continue with your
Canadian culinary adventures as much as I do with mine!</div>
Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-82889177214800577442014-05-07T10:22:00.004-07:002014-05-07T10:22:50.072-07:00May 7, 2014 - My Canadian Garden<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/2013/05/06/announcing-the-canadian-food-experience-project/" style="background-color: white; color: #9ecf71; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.790000915527344px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">The Canadian Food Experience Project</span></span></em></a><em style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.790000915527344px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> began <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_527569660" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ">June 7 2013</span></span>. As we (</span></em><a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/the-canadian-food-experience-project-participants/" style="background-color: white; color: #9ecf71; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.790000915527344px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">participants</span></span></em></a><em style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.790000915527344px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">) share our collective stories across the vastness of our Canadian landscape through our regional food experiences, we hope to bring global clarity to our Canadian culinary identity through the cadence of our concerted Canadian voice. Please join us</span></em></div>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpVvmmhMv3QBJ6KPaEK3VDhPfJukmAtWhlINOlNhiEdRXFVIbkLFuH47vMacAt16t7HSdB3deAy2-OjFxiO4WGqTAtMkI1fTgNjqouoS6_4imCPH7l2aMn7LJoiO7PhM9JF9j_2batTOjP/s1600/306150_10151722693845383_1796935955_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpVvmmhMv3QBJ6KPaEK3VDhPfJukmAtWhlINOlNhiEdRXFVIbkLFuH47vMacAt16t7HSdB3deAy2-OjFxiO4WGqTAtMkI1fTgNjqouoS6_4imCPH7l2aMn7LJoiO7PhM9JF9j_2batTOjP/s1600/306150_10151722693845383_1796935955_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s May. At this
time of year in the Southern Ontario Green Belt, everything is supposed to be
in bloom. The daffodils and tulips are supposed to be colouring the landscape with shades of yellow, pink, and red. The air should be filled with the scent of lilacs, the first fragrant bloom to
herald the arrival of Spring. The fruit blossoms begin to emerge, the bees have done their dance of cross-pollination, and the
pick-your-own farms are readying themselves for the busy season that starts after
the Ides of May. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Well that’s what
would normally happen. But not in 2014. The year after the Winter That Was
(and, in Northern Ontario, continues to happen). Most people who have been
following the <a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/2013/05/06/announcing-the-canadian-food-experience-project/" target="_blank">Canadian Food Experience Project </a>are indeed Canadian. I don’t
have to tell you about the coldest winter our entire nation has encountered
since the 1960s. I don’t have to tell you that, up until two weeks ago, every
major Canadian city (except for Vancouver) still had snow on the ground, or
that, up until last week, said ground remained too frozen to do anything else except except rake
the surface.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I would have liked
to have written about the garden that we usually start in April with the
turning of the soil, the fertilizing, the resting for a week, and then the
planting of seeds and seedlings to see what we get in a given year. This year,
I was hoping to plant some garlic, pumpkins, peas, zucchini, and tomatoes. My roommate is insisting on growing at least two successful stalks of
corn before he shuffles off this mortal coil (and given his flu, that could be
any day now).</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2wEQkgdBuTW_PC7gfObqArCf4BUhsJP_05tqY1sff3geRLoyOkDyLpX0qkU1fCA37-6JPvmrY4UubPZ_q3IYm8OiU26K60LfMoiUe2dShalQrC5s1BCUNSz_4kuOgqGtoBKAwDcSCiiK3/s1600/IMAG1313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2wEQkgdBuTW_PC7gfObqArCf4BUhsJP_05tqY1sff3geRLoyOkDyLpX0qkU1fCA37-6JPvmrY4UubPZ_q3IYm8OiU26K60LfMoiUe2dShalQrC5s1BCUNSz_4kuOgqGtoBKAwDcSCiiK3/s1600/IMAG1313.jpg" height="320" width="181" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">However, this is
the paltry state of our garden. </span><br />
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<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It made me
wonder what everyone else is doing – have they replaced fruits and vegetables
with flowers? Are they like us, and haven't bothered to start the garden? Or did they just break
some shovels and try to plant root vegetables, knowing those hearty things
could last yet through another May frost and/or snowfall? (The
good news on that – today was the first day that I could smell the spring in
the soil. You know, that musty smell between rot and renewal that comes out
when the sun finally warms up the ground.)</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSb6wp4M57iZWpOdG64xNH1_wgujQ1ZFAsKRr_x2nMNQcjTN4sJS03t0-cv8F33vXeYG4YOjMc-b0kJ812SE07SFJrB3Qr2hIipL34sSqjENyoahUScXU5D14Pq-8IcGqLhvUn_eOSODr5/s1600/428876_10151891659090383_915166944_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSb6wp4M57iZWpOdG64xNH1_wgujQ1ZFAsKRr_x2nMNQcjTN4sJS03t0-cv8F33vXeYG4YOjMc-b0kJ812SE07SFJrB3Qr2hIipL34sSqjENyoahUScXU5D14Pq-8IcGqLhvUn_eOSODr5/s1600/428876_10151891659090383_915166944_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you just judged me by that picture above, you would never know that I love to garden. I love tending to the plants in the beds, watching them bloom, marvelling at the bees who show up, and seeing the blossoms transform into something I can bring in the house and eat
raw, or cook, </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">bake</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">or preserve. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Because </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I nurtured them from seed. I kept guard watching over them day and night and in-between.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I weed the beds carefully, water them
religiously, spread human hair around the edges in a (functioning) voodoo ritual
to keep the rabbits</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">and raccoons out. Squirrels are a whole other pest unto themselves. Especially if you try to grow corn...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6C3_jzLn1voGSsIfv7KgP8PXqHUdlQxC6j2II0W8ILVsZd-kwpub7lGBqwqAL1oI_Mph5GFwBhP_nMnMoNFR1OcGMaMFd9ef38h4XAo1PfWjmv4u85iXaXTxq84MPJq5neKHiGMHJvrX/s1600/319369_10151929956530383_60305949_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6C3_jzLn1voGSsIfv7KgP8PXqHUdlQxC6j2II0W8ILVsZd-kwpub7lGBqwqAL1oI_Mph5GFwBhP_nMnMoNFR1OcGMaMFd9ef38h4XAo1PfWjmv4u85iXaXTxq84MPJq5neKHiGMHJvrX/s1600/319369_10151929956530383_60305949_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So what will I do
this year? Everything’s a month behind. I just hope that this means that I'll </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">get fresh strawberries from my garden during the Tour de France
in July, or fresh peas until the dog days of
summer. And wouldn’t it be a wonderful dream to have fresh, ripe, red tomatoes,
unharmed by cold, in November?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHQMhBKejSTnWzwaXSDUm5pQx15N8hOEifRwRn69A2TTmjbEaTxowkRuslOyDh6Ag3-lwETU_jB_wyf9o4Eq_N_36cFi3cctJckBCFHJFSjeFh8myBWgba-5vwlY8qgnns_JS-X_bbUXt8/s1600/249360_10150736794810383_5706069_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHQMhBKejSTnWzwaXSDUm5pQx15N8hOEifRwRn69A2TTmjbEaTxowkRuslOyDh6Ag3-lwETU_jB_wyf9o4Eq_N_36cFi3cctJckBCFHJFSjeFh8myBWgba-5vwlY8qgnns_JS-X_bbUXt8/s1600/249360_10150736794810383_5706069_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I'll show you what the garden turns into once we've tackled it and planted some seeds and seedlings. In the meantime, here’s a picture of
days gone by, and my first major harvest last year. Wish us amateur gardeners
in Southern Ontario luck. And a plethora of new shoves and rakes!</span></span></div>
Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-9276572269445546422014-04-07T18:00:00.000-07:002014-04-07T18:15:37.724-07:00April 7, 2014 - A Canadian Farmer - Backyard Bee Works<a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/2013/05/06/announcing-the-canadian-food-experience-project/" style="background-color: white; color: #9ecf71; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.790000915527344px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">The Canadian Food Experience Project</span></span></em></a><em style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.790000915527344px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> began <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_527569660" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ">June 7 2013</span></span>. As we (</span></em><a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/the-canadian-food-experience-project-participants/" style="background-color: white; color: #9ecf71; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.790000915527344px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">participants</span></span></em></a><em style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.790000915527344px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">) share our collective stories across the vastness of our Canadian landscape through our regional food experiences, we hope to bring global clarity to our Canadian culinary identity through the cadence of our concerted Canadian voice. Please join us.</span></em><br />
<em style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Calibri; line-height: 20.790000915527344px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></em>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I was in high school, back in the (cough cough) 80s, I was in the group that didn't belong with anyone else. We didn't listen to the top 40 of the day, we didn't go see Footloose or Dirty Dancing.
We didn't even wear our collars outside of our pullovers. We dressed how we
wanted, listened to what was really alternative
- like having to go downtown to fringe record shops to buy stuff we had
never heard from groups we had only read about and discovered real music – and we all became real friends for life. None of us stayed in our
hometown to marry our high school sweethearts. We lived our lives the way we
wanted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We all stayed in touch peripherally. Someone always knew
what one of the others was doing. I had known that my friend Mark McAlpine had
moved to Guelph, Ontario and became a tattoo and piercing artist because he was living
near other mutual friends.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And then Facebook came along. Being the technologically
savvy bunch we were, we all friended each other back in the days when Facebook
friends were actual friends. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A few years back Mark and his wife Shelley announced they
had started to keep bees, and they had produced a small batch of honey which
they were willing to sell to friends. Being someone who has always been
supportive of local farmers, good food, and my friends, I bought a 1kg jar from
Mark to try it out.<span style="font-size: x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVgNSh_BT-ZvWJ9hQcad4wh9cLhLdI0PTupOqTTTADHm5vozEpzk_DdBQZPd6-dRy1dDQkKed3ude7r4tqE1Y0YRfrJtY_CNfL237UaGxwa_9UtBsfcmZm7fjzEjxpiW05Xrm3B0_sUWL8/s1600/CAM01313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVgNSh_BT-ZvWJ9hQcad4wh9cLhLdI0PTupOqTTTADHm5vozEpzk_DdBQZPd6-dRy1dDQkKed3ude7r4tqE1Y0YRfrJtY_CNfL237UaGxwa_9UtBsfcmZm7fjzEjxpiW05Xrm3B0_sUWL8/s1600/CAM01313.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">That jar held some of the best honey I had ever tasted in my
life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was used to going to the farmer’s markets and farm markets
in my local area and buying craft honey there. I was used to the difference
between store-bought honey and fresh from the hive honey. But when I tasted
Mark and Shelley’s honey, I could taste the warmth of the sun in every drop.
This was honey that had curative powers for sore throats, flu bugs, and honey
that brought out the best in every recipe I used it for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mark and Shelley branded their business as Backyard Bee
Works, and have been selling honey in the Guelph area ever since. They have a
network of hives in St. Patrick’s Ward, or The Ward, in Guelph from which the
honey is harvested and packaged. I
recently did an interview with them for the May issue of <a href="http://www.eatinscanada.com/" target="_blank">Eatins Canada</a>, and asked them to talk about what led them to starting their own backyard
hives, the expansion of the network, and
the state of the honey business and honey bees in Canada, especially
given the winter we just went through in Southern Ontario. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Since we are talking about local farmers that produce something uniquely Canadian, I thought I'd share some excerpts from the interview for this month's entry. Who better to talk about their beehives than Mark and Shelley in their own words:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>What made you and Shelley interested in honey making and
beekeeping in the first place? When did you get your first hive and how did
your first season go? </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mark: I had a good friend who worked at the University of
Guelph's Honeybee labs and I'd ask him questions about bees. In 2007, with his encouragement, I took
a weekend beginner's beekeeping course at the University, and purchased our
first bees from a local beekeeper early that same summer. I set up two hives in
our backyard. I don't know that Shelley was too happy about the idea of several
thousand bees in our backyard, but it was soon apparent that the hives and bees
weren't going to interfere with our normal use of the yard. Its not like all
the bees are just hanging out in your backyard, they’re flying off all over the
city gathering nectar, so unless you stood right by the hives you’d hardly
notice them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Shelley: I was absolutely terrified to have bees in our
backyard. No joke! I didn't have a lot
of knowledge and assumed they would be like the Seinfeld Movie "Bee
Movie". I wasn't interested to have
thousands of angry insects who thought we were stealing their honey. I overcame my ignorance by taking a bee
keeping course at the university of Guelph.
Taking the beekeeping course was a great way to get comfortable with the
idea of having bees in our yard. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Why the decision to expand to multiple hives? Not just in
your yard but in yards across St. Patrick's Ward? At that point were you
interested in selling the honey or were you trying to experiment with nectar
flavours, bee output, etc.?</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mark: Healthy hives with a good Queen will eventually hit a
point where quite naturally the hive is ready to swarm. Basically what happens is that within the
hive, all the signals indicate that the hive is doing well, food is plentiful
and the current hive is close to being full up with bees, honey and pollen, so
it’s time to split the colony and spread. The queen will lay a successor, and
then leave the hive taking roughly half the bees and honey stores with her.
They establish a new colony and the newly hatched queen takes over the existing
hive. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As a beekeeper and a good neigbour, we don’t want the bees
to swarm and become a nuisance to those living around us, so there are ways to split a healthy hive
into two colonies that fulfills the swarm instinct of the bees and allows you
to expand the number of hives you have. With healthy colonies this can happen
quite often, so very quickly you can go from two hives to four to 8 to how ever
many you can handle. We also had friends in the area who were interested in
supporting bee populations but were not wanting to keep their own hives. We were able to put new hives in yards around
our neighbourhood, St Patricks Ward (or simply The Ward if you live in Guelph,)
which has a direct benefit on local gardens, fruit trees, wild flowers, and
vegetable patches, and allowed us to expand our hives without overwhelming our
own backyard. As far as the honey goes, even with only a couple of
hives we soon had more honey then we’d ever be able to make personal use of, so
we started selling to friends and family. We have some extremely loyal
customers, and each year we quickly sell out.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>One of the most obvious differences between your honey
and the mass-produced honeys people find in supermarkets is that your product
is made in small batches and is unpasteurized. Many of our readers may have
seen craft honey available at farmer's markets or roadside produce shops as
well. Can you describe the differences
in process and flavour between your honey with its wildflower origins versus a
single-flower honey that is found at places like the farmer's markets?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mark: Every beekeeper has a different set up from the next,
but in a general sense when you’re dealing with a local beekeeper — the folks
set up at the farmer’s market, a small family run beekeeping business, or like
Shelley and I, hobby beekeepers — you’ll likely find that hives stay in one
place and the bees are free to gather nectar from whatever happens to be in
bloom. The taste is local, it varies from year to year and there’s no way to
duplicate the flavour or make it homogenous. So much depends on the weather,
what grows in your area, what’s in bloom, etc. The interesting thing is that
each hive’s honey can taste completely different from a neighbouring hive,
depending on where they go to gather pollen. You can’t control what flowers
they go to — commercial beekeepers can place a hive somewhere in the middle of
kilometers of say, clover, to get a particular flavour, but our bees go to
whatever happens to be in bloom, and gather a multitude of nectar and pollen,
so every year the flavour is different and surprising. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Shelley: As city bees they have free reign to harvest
whatever various types of pollen they need to feed their babies (the cutest
thing ever is watching a baby bee nibble free from her cell!) or gather a
particular type of nectar to help the health of a hive. They aren't thinking about taste, they are
concerned about the hive's well being. Urban
honey bees, like all bees, travel about several kilometers from their hive to
gather nectar and pollen. If the only
thing around is clover, that is the honey you will get. It is about personal preference! By all means, please, please support your
local bee keeper! They are gathering
great honey. Be wary of large
multinational corporations who purchase honey from all over the world. In a nut shell, buy local honey!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>What is the average life span for a worker bee? How far
will the average bee travel from and to the hive to gather nectar?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mark: On average, a worker bee will live around 40 days.
She’ll go through a number of jobs as she gets older, from nurse to guard to
pollen and nectar gatherer before she eventually dies. Over winter these same workers will live for
several months until the spring weather hits. A Queen bee can live for many
years. We've had one of our Queens live for nearly 5 years before the hive
replaced her. As far as distance goes,
it’s been well documented that bees can travel 6km or more in search of pollen
or nectar, and 3km is a common average given.
That means our bees have likely visited every corner of the City of
Guelph, and even well beyond they city limits.
According to the Canadian Honey Council,
honey bees need to visit around two million flowers and fly 80,000 km
just to make one pound of honey. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>With fruits and vegetables, harvests vary from year to
year. What are some of the annual perils that the hive can
encounter that affects honey production? </i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Shelley: I personally
get heart broken when there are warm days in the midst of winter. Our bees, like all honey bees in North
America, originated from bees from Asia and Europe. Bees don’t hibernate over winter, they’re in
the hive, active, creating enough heat to make the inside of the hive room
temperature even on the coldest winter day. When you get a sudden warm day in
the middle of January, a number of bees actually leave the hive, like they’re
expecting a beautiful spring morning.
Bees never poop in the hive, so they also take the time to relieve
themselves after holding it in all winter.
Sometimes they’ll land on the frozen snow or ground, and it’s sad to see
frozen bees during the winter. I have
gathered many of them, and the warmth of my hand has revived them- but not
enough to be healthy members of the hive again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Mark: There’s so many things that can affect the health of a
hive, or how much honey is gathered over a season. Long, hot and dry summers
can mean there’s no nectar to gather, early spring frost can kill blooming
plants and mean that there’s no food for bees after a long winter. Or, like
this current winter with cold weather that goes on and on, the bees can often
use up their winter food supply and end up starving before the spring arrives.
We’ve lost way more hives this year
because of this exact problem, compared to other years. It’s a terrible thing
to open a hive in the spring and see that the bees have run out of food and
died, despite everything you did to prepare the hive for winter. That’s without
even getting into the number of pests and diseases that target honey bees and
their hives. Bees are in a precarious situation, and vulnerable to so much. In
North America, wild honeybees colonies basically no longer exist — there are
lots of other wild native bees out there still, but specifically honeybees in
the wild have pretty much died out from the various diseases that kill a hive
when left untreated. If you see a
honeybee on a flower in a field, it’s overwhelmingly likely that bee came from
a beekeeper’s yard. Even bees that swarm from a “kept” hive and end up making
their home in a tree or log in nature don’t tend to live long. Without
beekeepers, we wouldn't have bees pollinating our vegetable, flowers, fruit
trees at all. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">I was really drawn to the community sense of your
business, in that you are willing to share your knowledge to help others become
beekeepers and learn your trade. What is the most important thing about
crafting honey that you have learned since you and Shelly have started to keep
bees?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Shelley: The beekeeping community is an important one, and
we make sure to reach out to other bee keepers as well as to continue to rely
on professionals like the amazing Ontario Beekeeping Association’s Tech
Transfer Team here in Guelph, to acess information and resources that help keep
our honey bees healthy. Ontario, and
Guelph in particular has a dedicated group of professionals and academics who
have dedicated there lives to keep bees happy and healthy, so we’re extremely
fortunate to be able to access that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mark: I got involved in beekeeping because of that exact
sense of community you mentioned. I had a couple of friends who were extremely
generous with their time, especially when we first started out and were
terrified of making any wrong move with our hives. They’d come by, help with
inspections, reassure us that we were on the right track — they were just so
helpful beyond the call of duty, and it’s the example they set for us that we
try and follow. As others around us take an interest in having hives or
learning more about how to help honeybees, we've tried to be the folks who will
come by and lend a hand, check out the hives with them, help them extract honey
at the end of season — all the stuff we benefited from when we first started
out. I think that’s what makes our situation so special — it’s slow, small
scale, and community oriented. Some friends have been inspired to have hives of
their own, and others go out of their way to buy our honey as a way of
supporting our efforts. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">In addition to honey, what other bee-related products do
you make? </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Shelley: Mark has
made some awesome tattoo balm and this year we are getting into lip balm, I'm
an addict, so I better start making my own.
Every coat pocket I own has a least one tube! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mark: We've collected a tonne of pure beeswax over the last
number of years and I've had friends buy blocks of it to use in art projects,
and as Shelley mentioned I've developed our own line of tattoo aftercare balm
that’s been very popular in town. On a personal level, I use our honey when
making mustards, and have been toying with the idea of making a variety of
honey mustards to sell as well, but the
honey is what most folks know us for, which is fine by me! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKIlWn6bQp9JHFVF-36Q-gLL9HGUrhMUAHklWDMUgdW6aZZK2a1wNxDTFqish_clV5ZYHTrAU6FGANTFizJ-rE0h4kTYgTfi3nV5UOSP7YkBRe2oIso5T_ijzqiipSYa5dd9EljYnExhoj/s1600/1kgHoney1-300x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKIlWn6bQp9JHFVF-36Q-gLL9HGUrhMUAHklWDMUgdW6aZZK2a1wNxDTFqish_clV5ZYHTrAU6FGANTFizJ-rE0h4kTYgTfi3nV5UOSP7YkBRe2oIso5T_ijzqiipSYa5dd9EljYnExhoj/s1600/1kgHoney1-300x300.jpg" /></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: xx-small;">All pictures by Mark and Shelley McAlpine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Backyard Bee Works is located in St. Patrick’s Ward, in
Guelph, Ontario. For more information about buying their honey or honey-related
beeswax products, visit their website at <a href="http://www.backyardbeeworks.com/">www.backyardbeeworks.com</a> . </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-30636070996136296612014-03-07T18:28:00.000-08:002014-03-07T18:33:45.696-08:00March 7 - A(nother) Great Canadian Regional Food<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/2013/05/06/announcing-the-canadian-food-experience-project/" style="font-family: Calibri; text-align: start;" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">The Canadian Food Experience Project</span></span></em></a><em style="font-family: Calibri; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> began <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_527569660" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ">June 7 2013</span></span>. As we (</span></em><a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/the-canadian-food-experience-project-participants/" style="font-family: Calibri; text-align: start;" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">participants</span></span></em></a><em style="font-family: Calibri; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">) share our collective stories across the vastness of our Canadian landscape through our regional food experiences, we hope to bring global clarity to our Canadian culinary identity through the cadence of our concerted Canadian voice. Please join us.</span></em></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<em style="font-family: Calibri; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></em></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR5ls5Qw-SPothw_Vl4PrrxlEi78qRmKV518qUb1iU49h2t1yni-Hs4Nj5gt0i9SEggQYmU8ucu7w5kReYd4TUPxsf2X4_LJ-eD2-5kXjV0SzZ_BuOo6xAPfBe3XjJcEM6-_TdkH4jktlL/s1600/23977_10150126283760383_2255026_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR5ls5Qw-SPothw_Vl4PrrxlEi78qRmKV518qUb1iU49h2t1yni-Hs4Nj5gt0i9SEggQYmU8ucu7w5kReYd4TUPxsf2X4_LJ-eD2-5kXjV0SzZ_BuOo6xAPfBe3XjJcEM6-_TdkH4jktlL/s1600/23977_10150126283760383_2255026_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span id="goog_1748076752"></span><span id="goog_1748076753"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s March! It’s almost springtime! Time for the sun to start
shining its warmth upon the frozen ground and start to warm up the trees for
the maple sap to flow. Hooray! It’s a great time of year to be Canadian!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That’s what I would </span><i style="font-family: Calibri;">normally</i><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
be saying at this time of year. The sap usually starts to run just in time for
March Break, when you’re looking for something to do with the kids to get them
outside finally.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Except this year.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This year, the ground in southern Ontario is still frozen
solid. Metres of snow piles sit on people’s lawns and line the highways. The afternoon
temperatures are still in the minus teens, before wind chill. We are lamenting
that this is the winter that will never end. Well I hope that’s not true. I
would rather have a late maple syrup run than be wearing winter coats in July.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So about three years ago, when Spring came at a normal time
of year, around March Break, our family went to the maple syrup festival at
Bruce’s Mill Conservation Area in Whitchurch-Stouffville. While my then four-year-old son had a blast,
especially on the hay wagon ride, what was important to this story is that he
got hungry and wanted one of the giant cookies that he had seen at a table for
sale. The thing was, it wasn’t a maple-based cookie but just a very ordinary
chocolate chip flax seed cookie. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So
because having pancakes and syrup and syrup tasting and fudge wasn’t enough
sugar for the day, we got him a cookie but only if he promised to split them
with us. And since his dad can’t eat chocolate, he had to split the cookie with
me.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In spite of the long trip the cookie made and being wrapped
in cellophane for the whole trip, it was one of the best chocolate chip cookies
I had ever eaten. The gentleman assured me it was because of the type of flour.
He represented a small mill called Tyrone Mills, very local to Durham Region,
and closer to my house than Bruce’s Mill.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/IH6FbYLVQq4?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tyrone Mills is a working mill that continues to grind grain
into batches of flour. You can get almost every flour imaginable at the mill.
And when I noted that the address wasn’t too far from my house, I figured one
day we would see what it was all about.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There are no wheat farms close to the mill but they do grind
large batches and small batches of grain. We found the ultimate Canadian flour,
red fife flour, at the mill, along with the world’s finest durum semolina flour
– grown right here in Canada.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So we took a batch home and I had no idea what to do with
it. I heard about the nutty flavour, the earthy aroma, but I couldn’t believe
how incredible this flour actually smelled when I opened the bag. I had never
really thought about the scent of flour until I found one that had such a
robust scent. I had to do something with it right away before the scent faded.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I stared in my cupboard and the first thing I saw were
chocolate chips. So I thought, why not? I searched for Red Fife Chocolate Chip
cookies. Most recipes had people half and halfing the flour with unbleached
all-purpose. But I wanted that scent to waft through my kitchen to the top
floor and the bottom floor.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I made one up. To preserve the nutty flavour, I cut back
on the amount of regular granulated sugar you’d use and sweetened the batch
using some tangerines that were sitting on the counter. I suppose I should have
used maple syrup, but the cookies wouldn’t turn out nearly as crispy chewy.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiCU7dtcONuvvaODMI2moXKm6lf-iN1Ojx1AFyj9Yc1hanHUpj4KZnViE5HxQUvQFCnd3g-HAF1PIUGI__-JxcVrhlUmGJYqtcDuFeWWQ6ILcxRcUI6lIrT9hfJFolyvKCSqW7gH1CO2d7/s1600/378908_10150919788610383_112574249_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiCU7dtcONuvvaODMI2moXKm6lf-iN1Ojx1AFyj9Yc1hanHUpj4KZnViE5HxQUvQFCnd3g-HAF1PIUGI__-JxcVrhlUmGJYqtcDuFeWWQ6ILcxRcUI6lIrT9hfJFolyvKCSqW7gH1CO2d7/s1600/378908_10150919788610383_112574249_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b><u>Red Fife Chocolate Chip Cookies</u></b><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 ¼ cups red fife flour</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">½ cup rolled oats</span><br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">¾ tsp sea salt </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">¾ tsp baking powder</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">½ tsp baking soda</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">½ cup unsalted butter (4 oz or 1 stick), room temperature</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">½ cup brown sugar, packed</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">½ cup granulated white sugar</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 egg</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 – 2 Tbsp juice from ½ a fresh squeezed orange/tangerine</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">4 oz chocolate chips</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 tsp orange/tangerine zest</span><br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Preheat oven to 350F.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mix all dry ingredients together. Do not sift them.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Cream butter and sugars together until just mixed. Add egg and mix in.
then add juice. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Add the dry ingredients until barely combined. If using a stand mixer,
mix on the lowest setting for less than 30 seconds. Scrape the sides and
combine the ingredients.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fold in chocolate chips and the lemon zest. The batter should be clumpy
and look barely mixed.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Drop batter by rounded tablespoonful<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>onto parchment-covered cookie sheets, about 2 inches apart. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pat cookies with fingertips or butter knife to
flatten slightly. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Bake for about 15 minutes, rotating pans at around the 7 minute mark. Remove
cookies as soon as they are golden brown, and allow them to cool on racks for
at least 5 minutes or for as long as 10 minutes, before removing to cooling
racks. </span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Make sure you make this recipe when nobody is home so you don’t have to
share the cookies with anyone. But if you do find people won’t leave the house,
tell them they are healthy cookies so that you can have more for yourself!</span><br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
</div>
Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-57010827292764356482014-02-07T16:50:00.000-08:002014-02-07T16:50:22.707-08:00February 7, 2014 - My Canadian (Food) Love Affair<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/2013/05/06/announcing-the-canadian-food-experience-project/" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">The Canadian Food Experience Project</span></span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> began <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_527569660" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ">June 7 2013</span></span>. As we (</span></em><a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/the-canadian-food-experience-project-participants/" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">participants</span></span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">) share our collective stories across the vastness of our Canadian landscape through our regional food experiences, we hope to bring global clarity to our Canadian culinary identity through the cadence of our concerted Canadian voice. Please join us.</span></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><em><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"></span></em><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwquN0ihqsNJAWn53pnqXifO87VYMxlOIb7MzJrTSDf0ztz8wtYUdmVM7ATlAyZXfhZU-kLMEL7EhcdDuduMe1MCxQfIisH6yOhx3xK7hcVpwRUNPM9O8iDatCYctFTBaTRDY5vT9QcBxi/s1600/chefpaul.jpg.w300h375.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwquN0ihqsNJAWn53pnqXifO87VYMxlOIb7MzJrTSDf0ztz8wtYUdmVM7ATlAyZXfhZU-kLMEL7EhcdDuduMe1MCxQfIisH6yOhx3xK7hcVpwRUNPM9O8iDatCYctFTBaTRDY5vT9QcBxi/s1600/chefpaul.jpg.w300h375.jpg" height="320" width="256" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My late husband, Paul Mesbur, was a very talented young
chef. He stagiared under Jamie Kennedy at Palmerston, and under Michael
Stadtlander in the early days of Eiginsinn Farm. Among the other culinary skills
he learned from Michael, he helped Michael plant the trees that line the drive
up to the house. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Paul and I ended up together because of food. We were both attending
a martial arts school, where they had decided to hold an end-of-year potluck to
celebrate the achievement of the students. I signed up to bring tabbouli
because, at the time, I was a vegetarian. He signed up to bring a chocolate
cheesecake. I asked him where he was going to buy it. He said he was going to
make it. I had my doubts. Sure enough, he brought a chocolate cheesecake in a baker’s
box. I asked him again where he bought it. He told me he had his own baking
business, and emphasized that he made it. He made me try a piece – a key part
of this story is that I have always hated cheesecake – and when I tasted it, I
asked him if he used French chocolate. He was impressed that I could taste the type of chocolate that he had used, and asked me how I knew. I said, “Because
if you had used Belgian chocolate I might have had an orgasm here at the table.
But it was only French, so it was okay.”</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was love from that moment on.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Paul was heading off to the Stratford Chefs School soon after that potluck. For two years I travelled the VIA line from Toronto to Stratford in the winter to visit him, discover what he was learning, be his guinea pig, all the while, slowly, Paul brought me back to the dark side of the omnivore world. Thanks to Paul, I went from a near-vegan to a woman who likes her steaks black and blue. </span><br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">While at Stratford, the students were given a project to design their own restaurants from layout to menu. Paul came up with the name Cinnabar, after a colour of a specific kind of clay he
wanted to use for the centrepiece bar - clay being the raw material that is crafted to create something exquisite, much like food itself. The name stuck, and his side business,
which became our full-time catering business, was called Cinnabar Culinary Delights. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After Stratford, Paul worked in the kitchens of Bistro 990,
All the Best Fine Foods, and at Jamie Kennedy’s kitchens once again, before
operating Cinnabar full-time. I was the wine consultant at Cinnabar, having studied at
Stratford and the LCBO, and together, we were doing in-home cooking classes and
customized catered events in the GTA during the early days of Toronto’s
emerging gastronomical revolution.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Paul was the one who showed me that I had a palate, which led me to the study of wines, and food and wine pairings. He
showed me how to find the balance in flavours of a meal. He had a
delicate touch with food – nothing was ever over- or under-seasoned, and his
plates looked like little jeweled treasures. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When he passed away, suddenly, after a short-term illness, at the young age of 34, I tried to put together all of his original recipes scrawled down on
scraps of paper. I tried to remember which of the 3 shortbread cookie recipes he said was
easiest, which one was the best, and which one to never use. In spite of all I found written down, some of his recipes remained in his head, and
left the earth with him. One was his divine chicken liver pate, which he would
make for me often and frequently. Another was a succulent corned beef he would
cure from a raw brisket every year for his best friend Michael in time for St. Patrick’s Day.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I collected all I could find put the recipes into a binder.
Some of the recipes I tried were quite successful – the <a href="http://grumbleoftheday.blogspot.ca/2013/11/november-7-2013-great-canadian-pumpkin.html" target="_blank">pumpkin pie recipe</a> is
now a Thanksgiving tradition in my home – and others I have been unable to
replicate – the Chocolate Commitment Cake, for one. It’s a flourless chocolate
torte. Simple for some, but there was something he would do with this cake that
made it transcend any other flourless chocolate cake you may have had in your
life. It was the most requested dessert at Cinnabar, and young men often
proposed to their girlfriends after it had been served, hence the name. So here is the recipe for you. I make no guarantees about how it will turn out
or whether you’ll receive a proposal because of this cake. I just know
that I don’t have the delicate touch that Paul had to make this a work of food
art. But when it does turn out, it transcends food heaven.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Cinnabar's Chocolate Commitment Cake (Flourless Chocolate Cake)</strong></span></div>
<em style="font-family: Calibri;">1 lb bittersweet chocolate</em><br />
<em style="font-family: Calibri;">1 cup unsalted butter</em><em></em><br />
<em style="font-family: Calibri;">6 large eggs</em><em></em><br />
<em style="font-family: Calibri;">(for raspberry, add 2/3 cup raspberry puree)</em><em></em><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><em>Melt together chocolate and butter. Stir in raspberry if
using. Heat eggs until just warm over water, then beat off heat until soft
peaks form. Fold into chocolate in two batches. Pour into an 8” springform pan,
greased and lined with parchment, bottom wrapped in foil, and place in water
bath. Cover with foil and bake at 425 for 5 minutes, remove foil and bake 10
minutes more. Cool on rack, then cover and refrigerate at least 3 hours before
unmoulding.</em></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Paul started my love affair with Canadian food. It was something I took for granted, growing up near Bradford, but he showed me the unique things we were able to find in southern Ontario. At Eiginsinn Farm, Michael Stadtlander taught him (and the other young
chefs) what “local product” really meant. Paul took that to heart, and,
wherever and whenever possible, he always utilized the best local produce he
could find in everything he prepared for our clients. He showed me many of the
wonderful things that were available to us locally – from morels to local meats to
Cookstown Greens. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Paul passed away on February 20, 2005, so it seems fitting that this topic came up for me for this month. Every time I set foot in the kitchen, whether it's to make something simple like scrambled eggs or something complex like a turducken, I hear his voice in my ear, guiding me when I have my doubts or lose my way, and encouraging me when I believe all of my dish's flavours have been married in harmony. I miss him every single day that I turn on a stove. And I thank him for leaving me with this great love and reverence I have for our Canadian food landscape. I just wish he was still here to see how far his dreams have come since he left us nine years ago.</span></div>
Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-84248024185417615742014-01-07T19:35:00.001-08:002014-01-07T19:47:30.579-08:00January 7, 2014 - A Canadian Food Year's Resolution<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/2013/05/06/announcing-the-canadian-food-experience-project/" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">The Canadian Food Experience Project</span></span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> began <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_527569660" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ">June 7 2013</span></span>. As we (</span></em><a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/the-canadian-food-experience-project-participants/" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">participants</span></span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">) share our collective stories across the vastness of our Canadian landscape through our regional food experiences, we hope to bring global clarity to our Canadian culinary identity through the cadence of our concerted Canadian voice. Please join us.</span></em><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span id="goog_984899010"></span><span id="goog_984899011"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Last year I lost forty pounds. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I can tell you it wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve done in my
life but it was far from the most difficult. All I did was get up and start
moving. I drank more water than I ever did before. I made sure I went for at
least one 1-hour walk a day, or two if I could. On cold and crappy days, I
walked up and down the stairs at work and in my house until I was profusely
sweating.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The reasons why I lost weight were multitudinous, but one of
the key reasons why was that because I love food. I love REAL food. I love wheat
when it’s ground into flour, mixed with salt, water, and yeast, left to rise,
thumped down, left to rise again, and put into an oven. There is no greater
food aroma on this earth than the scent of baking bread. Real bread. With
gluten. And a pinch of sugar to help the yeast rise. I love real sugar! And I
love honey and maple syrup and sugar beets. I love flaky puff pastry made with
real, cold, creamy butter. In fact, just give me a croissant right now, hot
from the oven, with just a touch of peanut butter and honey, or maybe baked
with some frangipane and chocolate in the middle. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The problem is that there is Type 2 Diabetes on both sides
of my family. And in January 2013, I was overweight bordering on obese with
hypertension through the roof. So I had to make a choice – go on pills for the
rest of my life and give up the foods I love, or do something about it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rage against the machine-made foods, like
aspartame, gluten-free, margarine…I just threw up a little writing those words
down. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I started to walk. And drink water. And walk some more.
No, I didn’t diet. If you followed my food blog from last year, I was making
some pretty tasty things. All I did was follow that wonderful word that more of
us in the First World need to heed: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">moderation
. </i>Yes, I made a New Orleans-style King Cake for Mardi Gras, but I didn’t
eat the whole thing. I shared the wealth. Yes, I made shmoo cake, and ice
cream, and all sorts of tasty treats, but I ate just enough. I no longer ate to
be stuffed. I ate to enjoy. And I walked. OK I did a few abdominal stretches.
But I wasn’t doing a 2 hour workout every day. I didn’t become one of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">those</i> people. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So at the beginning of this year, 2014, which was last week,
I made myself a couple of, well, more promises than resolutions. The first was
to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">never go back</i> to the size I was,
or the poor health that I was in 12 months ago. The second was to try new
things.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So it seems only fitting, that with this, the first Canadian
Food Experience blog of 2014, that I should carry these resolutions over to
here. Am I going to extol the virtues of a fat-free food life? Oh goodness no!
You’ve got the wrong blog for that. But what I will say is that I am going to
look for other Canadian Food experiences that vastly differ from maple-drenched
beaver tails. As I’ve discovered reading many of the other Canadian Food
Experience blog entries, there is a whole world of fresh, exciting, flavourful
and yes, healthy, Canadian food out there. So I am going to try to make some
new recipes that are uniquely Canadian, or, at the very least, are from our
bounty of fresh fruits and vegetables.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now this is kind of difficult to do in winter, but we do
have greenhouses. We still have apples in storage from the fall harvest. And we
have our bounty of winter vegetables, like rutabagas, squashes, beets, kale,
cabbages…there’s so much we can do! And of course, we have the lovely
flash-frozen vegetables and fruits and meats and fish available to us.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I don’t really have a recipe this month, because it’s only
the seventh day in, and I’m still finishing the leftovers from Christmas and
New Year’s, along with just having made a Galette des Rois for Twelfth Night/Epiphany.
</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you want to try something new, you could make up a winter
salad using local winter greens, such as kale, mixed with roasted local root
vegetables, some local soft-ripened cheeses – most goat cheese in Canadian
grocery stores is made with Canadian goats’ milk – some dried cranberries,
sunflower seeds, tossed together with a vinaigrette made with Framboise, the
wine that made Southbrook farms famous, and some<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>pumpkinseed oil. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There – I just tried something new. I tried to think of a
recipe off the top of my head that would be completely local that I had never
made before in my kitchen. Now, I’m off to try it!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span>
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Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-42141048405948001312013-12-07T10:19:00.004-08:002013-12-07T10:19:52.270-08:00December 7, 2013: My Canadian Christmas Tradition<a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/2013/05/06/announcing-the-canadian-food-experience-project/" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">The Canadian Food Experience Project</span></span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> began <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_527569660" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ">June 7 2013</span></span>. As we (</span></em><a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/the-canadian-food-experience-project-participants/" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">participants</span></span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">) share our collective stories across the vastness of our Canadian landscape through our regional food experiences, we hope to bring global clarity to our Canadian culinary identity through the cadence of our concerted Canadian voice. Please join us.</span></em><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">I was born in Scarborough, Ontario, and was raised Catholic –
at least until my father discovered that he could talk to God on the golf
course on Sundays – so Christmas always meant snow, no school, and lots of
cooking. In Trinidad – where my parents are from as you may recall – food is
paramount to every celebration, especially to Christmas and Easter. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">My mother was raised Muslim – she converted later, but that’s
another story – so our family Christmas traditions came from my father. When I
was a kid, I always thought that the cooking took place over several days. It
wasn’t until I left home that I realised that it was the torture of
sleep-deprivation that kept me believing the cooking was a seven-day non-stop
extravaganza. All of the cooking actually took place within 36 hours. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">We would start on Christmas Eve afternoon with the ham. This
is not your honey-glazed baked ham. This was a nice bone of ham, which you can now
buy at any self-respecting West Indian grocery store starting after December 15</span><sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup><span style="font-size: small;">
each year, but when I was a kid, we got a smoked picnic shoulder ham from
Dominion. To this day, even though I know in the depths of my heritage, I
should be going to the West Indian shops and buying a nice, hung ham, I still
go to the grocery and get a water-chilled, vacuum-packed smoked picnic shoulder
ham.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">We put the ham to boil in plain water for about 2 hours. It’s
supposed to get most of the salt out, and it’s also supposed to cook the ham.
While the ham is boiling, we make the dough. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dough? Dough, you say? What do you mean dough?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">Well, here is the secret of the world-famous Trinidadian-style
Christmas ham. Every Christian family in Trinidad has their way of preparing
the ham and preparing the dough. Then you wrap the ham in the dough, and bake
it until the dough is golden brown. And when I say “wrap”, I mean like the ham
is a Christmas gift and the dough is the wrapping paper. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">There is nothing that tastes better on Christmas Eve, and
leftover on Christmas Day breakfast, than ham in dough. To me, ham in dough is
Christmas. Even when I was a vegetarian for six years, I would sneak pieces of
dough that weren’t too close to the meat. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">After the ham and dough were done, and we were busy having
pieces as snacks, we would then roast chestnuts for our stuffing. This is not a
Trinidad tradition. This is an Italian tradition that my father picked up from
his Italian co-workers (and mistress, but again, that’s another story). My
father believed the only way to prepare chestnuts was to roast them in the oven
in foil and then, when they split, peel them and use the nut meat for the
stuffing. I cannot tell you how many Christmas Eves I spent as a teenager
(probably all seven of them) slumped over the kitchen table at midnight, with A
Christmas Carol starring Alistair Sim on the TV, holding a paring knife,
cutting into each chestnut by the split seam, peeling the wooden skins, getting
splinters under my fingernails, just for a few tiny pieces of precious, golden chestnut.
Just thinking about it right now makes my fingertips hurt as I type!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">The next morning, my mother would use the chestnuts in her
famous chestnut stuffing, which would be roasted inside the duck we would have
for Christmas dinner. My mother is allergic to turkey, so we never had turkey
at any celebration. We would usually have duck instead, since I grew up in
Newmarket which was close to the King Cole duck farm. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">My mother would also make Christmas sweet bread, which is
not black cake or West Indian fruitcake. Sweet bread, not to be mistaken for
sweetbreads, is a coconut bread, which may contain raisins, though mine never
does, which has a crust of sugar on top. But overall, we didn’t do a lot of
cookie baking for Christmas. Dessert was either sweet bread or something my
mother would whip up. Dessert was always secondary to the food. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">In my own house now, I make the ham in dough. I buy
vacuum-packed chestnuts – sorry, dad – and chop them in the food processor to
make my mother’s chestnut stuffing. And I bake all sorts of cookies and cakes
for dessert, along with the raisin-free coconut sweet bread. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">Much like the Christmas I grew up with, my Christmas is even
more multicultural, including things from cultures that aren’t even part of our
family. Last year, I went insane and made duckenhen<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- duck, chicken, and Cornish hen – with chestnut
stuffing instead of Andouille sausage stuffing.<br />
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I made a batch of pepparkakor
from scratch.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigaaxWMcyv3-fucRvohYNjbw14odXRsrfQZ9BOzQlJVropcHx5wX3MVVRgSXmzqLL1qsqMN5Eyz1p6QqPtkqG1yduAgwDkwS0zzTRyOSmqIsTciEp5qWY14W9ouam8dDGrKWQYpvYzQC_D/s1600/pepparkakor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigaaxWMcyv3-fucRvohYNjbw14odXRsrfQZ9BOzQlJVropcHx5wX3MVVRgSXmzqLL1qsqMN5Eyz1p6QqPtkqG1yduAgwDkwS0zzTRyOSmqIsTciEp5qWY14W9ouam8dDGrKWQYpvYzQC_D/s320/pepparkakor.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I much prefer the Swedish ginger cookies from any other gingerbread
cookie recipe out there. And, from my late husband’s family’s tradition, I made
mund cookies from scratch. I also made Gordon Ramsay’s cranberry sauce which is
simply to. Die. For. And yes, I made Gordon Ramsay’s shortbread. If anyone
knows shortbread, it’s going to be a Scottish chef with anger issues. <o:p></o:p></div>
</span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">Christmas is about the old and the new. As long as I’m
alive, there will be a ham in dough on the table on Christmas Eve. And there
will be chestnuts in some form. But we will keep adding items to that table,
creating new traditions along the way.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">If you’re still curious about this whole ham in dough thing,
here you go. But don’t say I didn’t warn you – once you try some, you will want
to keep the entire package to yourself!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;"><u>Trinidad-style Christmas Ham<o:p></o:p></u></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">1 – bone-in ham, min. 7 lbs, max. to whatever can fit in
your largest pot and oven.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dough for a 7 lb ham:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">3 cups plain AP flour<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">1 Tbsp baking powder<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">½ - 2/3 cup butter, room temperature soft<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">½ - 1 tsp salt<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">1 ½ - 2 cups lukewarm water<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">If your ham comes wrapped in plastic wrap, remove it, but leave any
mesh netting the ham may come in on the ham to keep it intact while boiling.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">Place the ham in a pot deep enough to hold the ham submerged in water.
Fill the pot with water to cover the ham as much as possible. Place the pot
with the ham on the stove and bring to a boil. Keep the ham going at a lively
boil without spilling too much water out of the pot. If the water is bubbling
over, then turn down the stove until the water is bubbling but not boiling
over. Cook the ham, uncovered if at all possible, for 2 hours minimum. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">To make the dough: in a large bowl, measure and sift/whisk together
flour, baking powder, and salt. Then take half of the softened butter and rub
it into the flour mixture with your hands until the whole thing has the
consistency of cornmeal. Add the water, ¼ cup at a time, to the cornmeal-like
flour mixture until the dough is gathered into a smooth ball. Knead well, and
leave in the bowl in a warm area of the kitchen with a damp dry towel over the
top for about 35 – 45 min. It can stay for up to an hour if your ham needs more
time to cook. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ham will be ready when it starts to look flaky and feel springy to the
touch. Remove from heat; drain. You can leave the ham in a colander or whatever
you used to drain the ham (if in the pot, leave the ham in the pot but do not
put back on the stove dry).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">While the ham is draining and cooling off, preheat your oven to 350F. Turn
your dough out of the bowl and onto a well-floured surface. Roll out until the
dough is about 1/3” thick. Take the ham out of the mesh netting, if it had one,
put it in the centre of the dough, and wrap the dough around the ham making
sure to cover all surfaces of the ham. Put the ham, seam-side down, onto a
baking tray lined with parchment or silicone. Take the rest of the softened
butter and rub it on the outside of the dough until the dough is well-greased.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">Put the ham in the oven and bake until the dough is deep golden brown.
Depending on the size of your ham and how hot it was when it went into the
dough, this could take from 35 – 60 minutes. If the dough appears to be drying
out, you can re-baste it with any remaining butter you might have on the
counter.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">Once the dough is golden, remove the ham from the oven. Try to resist
the urge to tear into it right away, but if you do, be careful of the steam
that will come out of the dough when you first cut into it. Dough may be torn
off the ham by hand as well. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">If you do have any ham left over, be sure to pierce it with cloves all
over before storing it away overnight. But don’t bake it with the cloves in it.
The dough will not be as tasty. </span></span></div>
</span><br />Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-16316115640450438322013-11-07T18:33:00.001-08:002013-11-07T18:33:41.859-08:00November 7, 2013: The Great Canadian Pumpkin Harvest<a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/2013/05/06/announcing-the-canadian-food-experience-project/" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">The Canadian Food Experience Project</span></span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> began <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_527569660" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ">June 7 2013</span></span>. As we (</span></em><a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/the-canadian-food-experience-project-participants/" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">participants</span></span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">) share our collective stories across the vastness of our Canadian landscape through our regional food experiences, we hope to bring global clarity to our Canadian culinary identity through the cadence of our concerted Canadian voice. Please join us.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"></span></em><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We are so lucky to live in a country that experiences all
four seasons. We see the stillness and feel the cold of the ground in winter,
watching the bare trees bear the burden of snow to prepare for the burden of
new growth. We smell the replenishing earth and watch the buds and flowers
sprout off of trees and bushes in the spring. We enjoy late-night noshing and
long, evening strolls in the warmth of summer nights. But it’s fall where we
truly appreciate the fine bounty that this country brings.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
</span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As I’ve mentioned before, I live in the Ontario Green Belt.
That means we have pumpkin patches and apple orchards. Our farms provide us
with plenty of fall and winter crop vegetables and fruits to tide us over until
the return of the spring. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Everyone I know has their own recipe for apple pie, whether
or not they make it themselves. There’s a debate as to which apples are best to
use for pie – Macs, Granny Smith, Honeycrisp, Red Prince, Gala, Fuji – the only
thing we all agree on is not to use Delicious apples. To be honest, I am not a
huge fan of apple pie, probably for that very reason – I haven’t found the
perfect apple to make the perfect pie yet. Plus, as I discussed in the jam
blog, I am not a huge fan of cooked fruit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But there is one pie I have a terrible weakness for, and
that is pumpkin pie. If I was left on a desert island, that island better have
more pumpkins than a Canadian farm at Halloween. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifdHJzR-4oDw3J-DdegxLOyEiaZMQAuZdn3m7Mzwzhkb81EReUJ1oJdsoFR0yBIdo4SypqEQxcyOKhZW4aGOzPKaftoTJI3RWHdSTRoeBRE_4GQi_bMj07-b1tnIiYiTCtZSF34XKXApXk/s1600/IMAG0450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifdHJzR-4oDw3J-DdegxLOyEiaZMQAuZdn3m7Mzwzhkb81EReUJ1oJdsoFR0yBIdo4SypqEQxcyOKhZW4aGOzPKaftoTJI3RWHdSTRoeBRE_4GQi_bMj07-b1tnIiYiTCtZSF34XKXApXk/s320/IMAG0450.jpg" width="181" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
</span>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A pumpkin is a perfect fruit, and the amount we waste in
this country for Halloween decorations is frightening. As you probably know,
the smaller the pumpkin, the sweeter the flesh; hence the reason why we carve
large pumpkins and use baby ones for pies. By the way, my heart dies a little
every time I see a baby pumpkin carved on a stoop at Halloween. </span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiokJCChp8JMsiiSi87QGlz1GdG0QwdimtsbJnrON3WaEgnxqUMNB7QbPXdEdclo_uMc_OrtYVorsJaOlQ2rGE0cHqldlNnZX8z_QxAHB08HJY4RCdT4D3rgaEi1pRKznfprYxTFZLEQ2Rz/s1600/IMAG0523_BURST002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiokJCChp8JMsiiSi87QGlz1GdG0QwdimtsbJnrON3WaEgnxqUMNB7QbPXdEdclo_uMc_OrtYVorsJaOlQ2rGE0cHqldlNnZX8z_QxAHB08HJY4RCdT4D3rgaEi1pRKznfprYxTFZLEQ2Rz/s320/IMAG0523_BURST002.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pumpkin makes excellent soup (and the pumpkin itself makes a
perfect tureen for serving the soup). We have recipes for curried pumpkin in
Trinidad, even though the type of squash itself is slightly different from the
orange kind (though it can be done with a bit of spicing up and a little extra
salt with a pie pumpkin). <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My mother knew I loved pumpkin pie, and she liked it as
well. God bless her for being born during the end of a war, when canned food
was praised to be better for you than real food. So she would buy those frozen
Mrs. Smiths pies and bake them for me, claiming they were as good as a fresh
pumpkin pie.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">They weren’t.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had many a fresh pumpkin pie over the years, but it wasn’t
until my late husband, who was a chef and a graduate of the Stratford Chefs School,
made me his version of pumpkin pie that I truly appreciated what it takes to
make an honest-to-goodness mouth-watering pie.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I’ll share his recipe here so you
can create your own harvest pumpkin memories. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This will make one 10” deep dish pie. Also,
it’s best to use a blind-baked shortcrust, though a blind-baked flaky pie crust
can also do in a pinch. You just have to account for the extra leaking butter
or fat.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pumpkin Pie Filling<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2 cups fresh pumpkin puree (from 1 pie-sized pumpkin, roasted)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 cup brown sugar<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 vanilla bean, scraped, seeds only<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 tsp. ground ginger<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">½ tsp. each cinnamon, nutmeg, ground cloves<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pinch salt<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pinch white pepper<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">4 eggs<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 ½ cups 35% cream<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">¼ cup bourbon, dark rum, or good-quality rye (if you want to be
ultra-Canadian)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">First things first – cut your pie pumpkin in half, scoop out
and save the seeds for roasting for snacks (!!) and roast the pumpkin in a 350F
oven for about an hour. Test it with a wooden skewer; if it goes in easily and
the pumpkin flesh looks caramelized (see photo), take it out and let the
pumpkin cool until you can easily handle it. Scoop the flesh from the skin, throw
it in the food processor and puree it until it is smooth like baby food. Raise
your oven to 375F.</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPJfB0_QmwAEjxLJ_K3k_wX-SnUW1No0_SxN0QRINAng409PKMwnfp9y14HNo-rPN8EfyJAsxCiWLKFr8SQMpMXlWaHxAKT_ykSiU9ofMEA8ekZnULF7wPqEteViJjCN2cINogAp540CPe/s1600/IMAG0442.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPJfB0_QmwAEjxLJ_K3k_wX-SnUW1No0_SxN0QRINAng409PKMwnfp9y14HNo-rPN8EfyJAsxCiWLKFr8SQMpMXlWaHxAKT_ykSiU9ofMEA8ekZnULF7wPqEteViJjCN2cINogAp540CPe/s320/IMAG0442.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Put 2 cups of the pumpkin flesh in a large metallic or glass
bowl, add all of the ingredients listed above into the bowl, and whisk together
until smooth.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pour the filling into the blind-baked shell and bake for at
least 30 min before opening the oven to check. When the sides of the filling
are firm, the pie is done. The centre may be a little jiggly. You may have to
put a ring of foil around the top of the crust to keep it from getting too
dark, depending on how thick your shell was made.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span>
</span><br />Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-89296833866777935832013-10-07T16:53:00.002-07:002013-10-07T17:00:19.193-07:00October 7, 2013: Preserving: Our Canadian Food Tradition or How I Learned to Stop Fretting and Love the Jam<br />
<a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/2013/05/06/announcing-the-canadian-food-experience-project/" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">The Canadian Food Experience Project</span></span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> began <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_527569660" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ">June 7 2013</span></span>. As we (</span></em><a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/the-canadian-food-experience-project-participants/" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">participants</span></span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">) share our collective stories across the vastness of our Canadian landscape through our regional food experiences, we hope to bring global clarity to our Canadian culinary identity through the cadence of our concerted Canadian voice. Please join us.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"></span></em><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm-yICkHKgWtDnza03tKuFeqoxGf_KwOifcwvOYjxITfjL4yhASZHzJ0wkWsuWcoiizDZf_3SA2hE-Ne6mKoRcPtV7Pc4QjMW8kpKiEoE9whJG6H4TPz4R-8qo72JGYV8N9hy1CkCvWz68/s1600/IMAG0440.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm-yICkHKgWtDnza03tKuFeqoxGf_KwOifcwvOYjxITfjL4yhASZHzJ0wkWsuWcoiizDZf_3SA2hE-Ne6mKoRcPtV7Pc4QjMW8kpKiEoE9whJG6H4TPz4R-8qo72JGYV8N9hy1CkCvWz68/s320/IMAG0440.jpg" width="181" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Let me start this off by saying I am one of those rare
people who hates preserved food. I don’t like jams, jellies (except mint jelly
on lamb), dried fruit, pickled things…I like food to be as fresh as it can be.
I’m not sure why. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">To be honest, I’ve never really heard
about Americans or other nations home canning or making jams as much as we do
in Canada. In Canada, we talk about someone’s mom or grandma making jam at home
with the same ease as we talk about them making pancakes for Sunday breakfast. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As I’ve mentioned previously, my parents came to Canada from
Trinidad. The methods of preserving in hot climates vastly differ from cold climates.
In Trinidad, fruits and nuts are preserved by leaving them to dry outside in
the sun, or in a shack in the backyard. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only things that people “can” are chutneys
(which are very different from Canadian chutneys) and “pepper sauce”, which is
basically a savoury chutney-style sauce made out of various types of hot
peppers and other ingredients. Every family has their own recipe. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pepper sauce is not heat sealed or canned
since it never lasts longer than a week or two on most people’s tables, and is
usually stored in some type of recycled container, like an old mustard bottle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My mother was born during WW2, when canned food first became
a necessity in the Northern hemisphere, and brought by soldiers to the bases on
the Caribbean islands. Foods such as corned beef, tinned soups, and canned
milks were then integrated into local cooking on the Islands, becoming staples
of everyday meals.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But when my mother came to Canada, for the first time, she saw
people make their own preserves. The woman she boarded with made her own
pickles. When my father started working as an accountant in an office in
Weston, Ontario, the Italian workers would bring in jars of tomato sauce that
they had made at home to share with others. And when we moved to the small town
of Newmarket, Ontario, our neighbours made fruit chutneys and canned their own
fruit (though using this term confused me for years when I was young. I
expected people to put things inside of tins, not glass jars!). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Watching all of our neighbours making their own preserves
inspired my mother to buy a bunch of fruit from Niagara and start canning
things herself. She made about 100,000 jars of canned peaches one year. Another
year, she canned her own tomatoes after we had a bounty in the back yard. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember she also made dill pickles (after
we grew dill one year in the garden),<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>as
well as trying her hand at jams and jellies. The problem was, she was making
them all thinking that I would like this because, well, we were in Canada now
and this was Canadian food for her Canadian daughter.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Being surrounded by endless jars of the fruit of my mother’s
labours most likely contributed to my disdain for preserved goods. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’ve never really liked the taste of them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I never had an interest in continuing my mother’s misplaced
traditions until I had a son of my own, and we moved out to the Green Belt. The
spring and fall we get out here are the sweetest berries on earth, and there’s
only so much room you can make in your freezer for them. Besides, frozen
berries are really only good for making sauces, ice creams, or throwing into
punches as alternatives to ice cubes. And so I pulled out the books that my
mother gave me to attempt to make jams.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The one thing I have decided, though, is that additional
pectin is just sinful in jam. I understand the need for it in jelly, because
you are straining out all of the pulpy goodness and natural pectin in the
fruit to give yourself a crystal-clear substance. But why add something to jam
that is already there? So all of the jams I have ever made were crafted without
additional pectin. I let the natural pectin in the strawberries, raspberries,
and blueberries shine through. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">(I did make mint jelly using the mint from my backyard, and there I was forced to use ready-made pectin, since mint does not have any natural pectin.) <o:p></o:p><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My recipes are simple – fruit, sugar, lemon juice. Cook
until done. (I use the spoon in the freezer trick.) Pour into a jar, and seal.
I try to leave the berries as large as I can – I mash them, but I like to see
big pieces of fruit in my jam, even though I still won’t eat them. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvYqFrWYoT21zaSke12PDgSmoy8Psd9VJSJfhgGLzqSXUUPRe7dDEWz_QvyDNpsiUz-5yw2oAJMsr4aze1_niCKBd6C9RgL4JvW1Sz8GuUvsOGyv-5r11mEbdsxZmfUkWXhiMkyBAAaSG/s1600/IMAG0438.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvYqFrWYoT21zaSke12PDgSmoy8Psd9VJSJfhgGLzqSXUUPRe7dDEWz_QvyDNpsiUz-5yw2oAJMsr4aze1_niCKBd6C9RgL4JvW1Sz8GuUvsOGyv-5r11mEbdsxZmfUkWXhiMkyBAAaSG/s320/IMAG0438.jpg" width="181" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Since I don’t eat jam, and my son will only eat it if he
sees other people eating it, I make jam for gifts. In June, I take the first
strawberries of the season and make jam as thank-you gifts for my son’s
teachers. In fall, I take the last of the strawberries and make jam for
Christmas gifts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> The above pic is a jar of my spring jam which I gave to my son's teachers in June. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I think that’s what we all do these days – most people who
preserve end up trying to make a business of selling their things or they give
them away as gifts – it’s very rare in the urban areas of the country to see
people who stock their pantries with their own home canned goods to use them
through the winter anymore, even though they’re happy to purchase home canned
goods made by country and city chefs alike.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you’ve never tried to make your own preserves, it’s quite
easy. Don’t be intimidated by the sterilization process – it’s easy to do these
days if you have a dishwasher and an oven!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So let’s keep up the Canadian tradition of home preserving and canning.
We have the perfect bounty for it, we should count (and can) our blessings!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><strong><u>Strawberry Jam Recipe</u></strong></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><strong></strong></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">For every 2 1/4 cups of berries, add 1 cup of white sugar and 1 tsp of lemon juice. Wash and hull berries (with a knife - no need to use a fancy huller!) and throw them into a large pot. I use a stock pot. Add the sugar and lemon juice, then place on the stove over medium heat to heat up. Mash berries using a hand potato masher. You can crush them to a pulp or you can leave them depending on how whole you like your strawberries in jam. Once the jam starts to bubble and boil, start skimming any bubbles that come to the top off. You may end up with about a cup of bubble liquid for every 12 cups of berries you use. When you see the jam start to give off fewer bubbles and thicken up, put a metal spoon on a plate and put these in your freezer for about 5 - 7 min. Using dry hands take the spoon out and dip it into the thickened jam. Drop some on the plate, and if it comes to just about the thickness you like your jam to be, turn off the pot, and get ready to start pouring it into jars. If the jam isn't as thick as you'd like it, leave it on the stove, wash the spoon and plate, dry them thoroughly, and put them back in the freezer for another 10 min. Keep repeating the check until desired consistency is reached.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><br />
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<br />Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-90270343512181414442013-09-07T12:36:00.002-07:002013-09-07T12:38:04.814-07:00September 7, 2013 My Cherished Canadian Recipe: The Humble Butter Tart<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzhWwKOIG5m4ohO8DX6QiK-6Gr9e8cVreGgEWhpYn0C6a7igPYn2T0Xafk2wvp-_8kalRfKijcKjLo6E-aOIXv-zpY2u2OXNKOjxZLuKw7QFU7YUlhyphenhyphen1gguOikCYvaBXnEhMVAYLE0CazK/s1600/btart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzhWwKOIG5m4ohO8DX6QiK-6Gr9e8cVreGgEWhpYn0C6a7igPYn2T0Xafk2wvp-_8kalRfKijcKjLo6E-aOIXv-zpY2u2OXNKOjxZLuKw7QFU7YUlhyphenhyphen1gguOikCYvaBXnEhMVAYLE0CazK/s1600/btart.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/2013/05/06/announcing-the-canadian-food-experience-project/" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">The Canadian Food Experience Project</span></span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> began <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_527569660" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ">June 7 2013</span></span>. As we (</span></em><a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/the-canadian-food-experience-project-participants/" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #73b03a;">participants</span></span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">) share our collective stories across the vastness of our Canadian landscape through our regional food experiences, we hope to bring global clarity to our Canadian culinary identity through the cadence of our concerted Canadian voice. Please join us.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"></span></em><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am an only child. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s almost commonplace these days to be an only child. People
now start families later in life, and as a result, keep them small. But when I
was a child, being an only child was still unusual. Most families still aimed
to have at least three children, and most moms, including mine, stayed home
while most dads, like mine, worked all week and hung out with the boys all weekend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We moved to the small town of Newmarket, Ontario, when I was
about three years old. That’s not meant to be cynical at all – Newmarket only
had 12,000 people when we moved there. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
think I spoke in an earlier blog of my food memories at the markets in Bradford
with my mother to get fresh produce each week during the summer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In the winter, though, there wasn’t much to do, except play
in the snow outside, or go on errands with your parents. My mother took me
everywhere with her, and she loved to go to craft fairs at the local senior
citizens’ homes or church basements. And because I was such a quiet and shy
child, I just stood looking at the pink crocheted toilet paper roll dolls while
she chatted with the ladies about crafting techniques. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">No matter where you find a craft fair in Canada, there is
always a bake sale towards the end. My favourite part would be getting a treat
at the bake sale. There were always at least three long folding tables, covered
with red and white checked tablecloths, ladened with trays of party sandwiches
(which are my weakness to this day), brownies, Nanaimo bars, thick and chewy
chocolate chip cookies, shortbreads, and simple, thick crusted butter tarts,
with raisins. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have to tell you – I despise raisins. I think it’s because
the old ladies at the seniors homes used to always give me boxes of raisins for
snacks, because they were “nature’s candy”. I would always eat them to be
polite, but they would stick in my cavity-free teeth, leaving an overly sweet
yet bitterly burnt taste in my mouth. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
sometimes, they would even have seeds. But no matter the colour – golden, dark,
medium – raisins and I have never been friends. Grapes, fine. Wine, divine. But
raisins come from a special part of culinary hell (along with all dried fruit
in my opinion).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The old ladies would try to get my mother to buy the tarts. You
may recall that my mother came to Canada from Trinidad. Back then, they didn’t
have tarts like they did in Canada, and they still don’t have butter tarts at
all. My mother called these tarts the ladies would offer her “raisin tarts”,
and would always ask if I wanted one. I would always say no thank you, and,
since my mother was more of a mille feuille type of person, she would never eat
them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But one day, we went to one of these craft fairs, and lo and
behold, we found what looked like the same raisin tarts without the spurge of
raisins within. I asked my mom if I could try one, and she bought one for me. The
pastry was crumbly and hard, like a cookie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The filling was runny and sweet with a hint of tanginess that left me
lapping up the inside of the shell. When I asked what they were called, the
lady told me they were butter tarts. So for years, I thought the ones with
raisins were “raisin tarts” and the delicious ones without raisins were “butter
tarts”. I grew up believing that butter tarts were one of those things that
only old ladies could make, like egg salad sandwiches and macaroons. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Over the years, I tried store-bought butter tarts,
cafeteria-made butter tarts, bakery butter tarts, but they would all disappoint
me at some level. They would either contain raisins, and thus to me would be
inedible, or they would taste too artificial, as if the filling were made from
melted plastic and the crust made from sawdust and cardboard glued together
with margarine. I started to dislike the butter tart, not because of their
flavour, but because they would always be nothing more than a disappointment to
me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At my last day job, one of my colleagues was a butter tart
fiend. Like me, she believed the butter tart should remain pure and unspoiled,
i.e. made without raisins. With my rediscovered love for baking, I set out on a
quest to satisfy both of our appetites for the humble yet illustrious butter
tart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">While searching for a recipe, I discovered that the butter
tart is a Canadian dessert. Ask any American what a butter tart is, and they
will have no clue. They may know sugar tarts if they live near the Quebec
border, but only we Canadians know butter tarts. Asking what they are should be
one of those instant citizenship questions at the border, rather than knowing
hockey trivia or the recipe for poutine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Earlier this year, I found it – and I posted my success (and
failures) at this very blog <a href="http://grumbleoftheday.blogspot.ca/2012_07_01_archive.html" target="_blank">right here</a>. To make them more Canadian, I used maple
syrup instead of corn syrup. It makes the filling runnier but less sweet and
more balanced. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did discover the old
lady trick of making them in muffin tins. When I left that job after fourteen
years, my last gift to my colleague was a box of homemade butter tarts,
pictured below. The crust was like a shortbread cookie, and the filling had
just the right amount of sweetness and tanginess. My next big culinary quest:
to perfect the egg salad sandwich! </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibGkv16SP0M4q4MODeyEHi6bZlicpiXlShb7I-QKm2QIDLDyzHpVzuXEL-5RoPXhIqi6BDBM-mN_PSUyqbQHUojvsGCBzp4zy8Db6BJ_HOgF4WM_3QxpqARZgO4qkE0YYgUkkdEfa_I8v_/s1600/bbtart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibGkv16SP0M4q4MODeyEHi6bZlicpiXlShb7I-QKm2QIDLDyzHpVzuXEL-5RoPXhIqi6BDBM-mN_PSUyqbQHUojvsGCBzp4zy8Db6BJ_HOgF4WM_3QxpqARZgO4qkE0YYgUkkdEfa_I8v_/s1600/bbtart.jpg" height="320" width="181" /></a></div>
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(here's a picture of a Wild Blueberry Butter Tart I made today. Yes, it does indeed work!)</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-35622888408137345662013-08-07T18:45:00.000-07:002013-08-07T18:45:14.055-07:00August 7, 2013: My Regional Canadian Food Heroes - the Farm(er)s<a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/2013/05/06/announcing-the-canadian-food-experience-project/" style="background-color: white; color: #9ecf71; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The Canadian Food Experience Project</span></em></a><em style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> began <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_527569660" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ">June 7 2013</span></span>. As we (</span></em><a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/the-canadian-food-experience-project-participants/" style="background-color: white; color: #9ecf71; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-size: xx-small;">participants</span></em></a><em style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">) share our collective stories across the vastness of our Canadian landscape through our regional food experiences, we hope to bring global clarity to our Canadian culinary identity through the cadence of our concerted Canadian voice. Please join us.</span></em><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I live in the South West end of Durham Region in the town of
Ajax, Ontario. The most famous buildings in our area are the Pickering and
Darlington Nuclear Plants. Some of you may even be old enough to remember the
outcry by the public of the construction of both of these plants because of the
potential impact they would have on the surrounding environment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For you see, Durham Region is part of the Ontario Green
Belt. And when the plants were first activated, everyone thought the nuclear
plants would destroy the farmers’ fields with their hazardous waste and other
environmental impact.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What destroyed the farmers’ fields wasn’t so much the
nuclear waste but the population explosion in Durham region caused by the
success of the nuclear industry. More jobs meant more people. More people meant
more houses. And so, developers offered farmers ridiculous amounts of money for
their land at a time when they needed it most, and in the place of crops rose
row houses upon row houses, subdivision after subdivision. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The developments haven’t stopped. People are choosing to
leave the static metropolis of Toronto and move further east. Ajax is growing
in population because we have more dormant land for developers to use for more
houses and more shopping centres. More shopping centres mean more food stores.
When I say “food stores”, I don’t mean just grocery stores (which is where food
lives and where it dies – have you ever seen a frozen thin crust pizza in a
box? That to me defines the death of food.). I also mean fast-food and/or chain
restaurants where the meals are cookie-cutter, boil-in-bag or frozen-to-flat
grill, and the only flavour you can be guaranteed to taste is salt. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, most of the people who move out to the
suburbs, or to this part of South Durham, love to frequent these harbingers of
food death. Why else would we have 15 different wing chains within a 4 km
radius? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But all is not lost out here. In spite of the amount of
sodium dealers residing in the monolithic shopping plazas, we have a few local food
heroes who are doing their best to ensure the people of Southwest Durham have
the freshest, healthiest, most nutritious produce in Ontario.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNO0xNOJdQaUXOsG6J9id7tQTb1MvTxF-xlygKt2HkNV5lmRA-ukhEvzqBOlrFjLCGY3UPnBuAmvyhyphenhyphenXlj-YO9AxZ71982u6rfYW_jm9GckmIp8EJJyFZ7Jfm6VQsSR359Nw3GMB4hDrMc/s1600/durham-farm-fresh_4_3540959956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNO0xNOJdQaUXOsG6J9id7tQTb1MvTxF-xlygKt2HkNV5lmRA-ukhEvzqBOlrFjLCGY3UPnBuAmvyhyphenhyphenXlj-YO9AxZ71982u6rfYW_jm9GckmIp8EJJyFZ7Jfm6VQsSR359Nw3GMB4hDrMc/s1600/durham-farm-fresh_4_3540959956.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of these local farms is <b>Stroud Farms</b>. Their main store
is located on the Whitby/Ajax border, surrounded by pear and apple orchards.
Stroud Farms also owns several other acres of farm land in the boundary of the
Town of Ajax, growing corn, raspberries, beets, and other root and tuber
vegetables. Their main store is open from July to November, and in the fall,
they have the largest selection of pumpkins and gourds in the region. They also
sell locally-sourced honey and maple syrup, a limited amount of baked goods,
and a limited amount of produce which is grown by other local farmers that they
themselves might not grow on their farm (e.g. kale) but they wish to make
available to their customers. Stroud Farms has a secondary store located right
on their corn field on Kingston Road/Highway 2 in Ajax.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKp7DK1RZ1WqtqD5ZxRkeOtOJLxaSZ2FcOIkN8SdM4zO6iRndQr_ih8WNQ1Jw9_nPveueEebxzPaTt7NHBVg02Om7p_K3TDNzP5z9kQk4xvN7YGsS7SPvAdaraaG-DX8KACU0mfAScjswu/s1600/ajax3.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKp7DK1RZ1WqtqD5ZxRkeOtOJLxaSZ2FcOIkN8SdM4zO6iRndQr_ih8WNQ1Jw9_nPveueEebxzPaTt7NHBVg02Om7p_K3TDNzP5z9kQk4xvN7YGsS7SPvAdaraaG-DX8KACU0mfAScjswu/s1600/ajax3.gif" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Stroud Farms popup store on the corn field, courtesy of www.stroudfarms.ca</span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Their website can be found here: <a href="http://www.stroudfarms.ca/">www.stroudfarms.ca</a>
. During the season, Stroud Farms is my every day farmer’s market! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The other local farm that I want to call out as a local food
hero is <b>Willowtree Farm</b>. They are located a little bit north of the Southwest
Durham area, just outside of Port Perry (about a half hour north of Ajax). Like
Stroud Farms, Willowtree Farm has its store located right on the farm itself.
They differ because Willowtree Farm also raises organic, hormone-free beef, and
offers it for sale at their store. The Willowtree Farm store also has a working
beehive in its walls, which you can see when you visit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Willowtree Farm also offers pick-your-own berry fields and a
delivery service within Durham Region of a weekly basket of fresh, farm-raised
meat and farm-grown produce to be delivered to your door. This delivery-to-door
is known as a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) program. Willowtree Farm also offers a variety of rare
and unusual produce grown locally that you might not see in other farm markets,
all gathered from nearby farms if not grown at Willowtree itself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Willowtree Farms website can be found here: <a href="http://www.willowtreefarm.ca/">www.willowtreefarm.ca</a> . I can verify
that their natural angus beef is some of the best beef I have eaten in my life
(and I’ve eaten a lot of beef, even in Alberta! (sorry Valerie)).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In among all of the land of Durham, and elsewhere, being
taken over by housing development after housing development, and shopping
centre after shopping centre, local farms and farmers are my Canadian food
heroes. They are visible within the community, giving consumers an affordable,
healthy, and local choice of food purchases. Customers and consumers can ask
the farmers questions about how the food was raised, the growing conditions, or
any other concerns they may have. And their food simply tastes better. Without the
need for salt.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-17789201668933082842013-07-07T10:43:00.000-07:002013-07-07T10:43:30.441-07:00July 7, 2013: A Regional Canadian Food <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/2013/05/06/announcing-the-canadian-food-experience-project/" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The Canadian Food Experience Project</span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> began <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_527569660" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ">June 7 2013</span></span>. As we (</span></em><a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/the-canadian-food-experience-project-participants/" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">participants</span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">) share our collective stories across the vastness of our Canadian landscape through our regional food experiences, we hope to bring global clarity to our Canadian culinary identity through the cadence of our concerted Canadian voice. Please join us.</span></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes it seems that we Canadians can only see ourselves the way the rest of the world sees us - as one small group of people on the world's second-largest political land mass. We don't contemplate the differences between us, unless
we think about Quebec, or maybe even Newfoundland.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It wasn’t until 2004 that I
realised that not all dialects of non-Newfoundland Canadian English are the same. I
had travelled to Winnipeg in August of that year to attend a work conference for all
members of the various legal departments across the company for a
total of twenty people.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the first night of the trip,
the General Counsel hosted a dinner party for all of us at his home in the thick
of mosquito season. He had one of those fancy electronic mosquito fences around
his place, so we weren’t bitten too badly. I thought nothing could top black
fly season in Algonquin. I was wrong! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dinner was a lovely
grand turkey dinner with all the trimmings. A little unusual for August, but turkey is probably the easiest thing to prepare for such a
large crowd. The food was comfy, delicious, and made us all feel right at home,
like one big family (which was one of the objectives of the trip). <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After dinner, we were helping to
tidy up when one of the lawyers wanted to know about the “dainties” that were
coming out.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We Torontonians froze, and gave
the lawyer and the others a curious look. We wanted to know exactly what kind
of dinner party we had been invited to, and just how these people in Winnipeg,
who seemed so mild-mannered and meek, spent their summer evenings!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Excuse me,” one of the Toronto
legal assistants called out, “Did you say ‘dainties’?”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Yeah,” the lawyer replied, “don’t
you guys have dainties in Toronto?”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“We do,” I said, “but they’re not
exactly appropriate to show at dinner.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There were enough raised eyebrows
to lift the roof off of the house. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You know, dainties,” said one of
the Winnipeg legal assistants, “little cakes, biscuity things, we put them in little paper cups on a
tray…”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“OH!” gasped all of the
Torontonians with relief. “You mean pastries and petit fours!”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Well, what did you think we meant?”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We told her. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After the dainty miscommunication, the Winnipeggers introduced us to another "new" word in their non-accented dialect.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“And Sue even got a shmoo!" one of the Winnipeg assistants cried.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We Torontonians had no clue what that meant. To me,
Shmoo was the little white ghost cartoon creature from Saturday mornings.
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicZtobRg2GpCxWRHxWmZnu02DXHRX0YjWEzhtt-jF97JuTAD8xNdaTh4ydPWYKtR8JXDKEvCRkc7XGkebIWdTHsjRxGOMt8QQL8WwZJjl59XiT5AudfniSgea5sKLL1vHJ6NRp7NUEcDzM/s221/bios_shmoo_bw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicZtobRg2GpCxWRHxWmZnu02DXHRX0YjWEzhtt-jF97JuTAD8xNdaTh4ydPWYKtR8JXDKEvCRkc7XGkebIWdTHsjRxGOMt8QQL8WwZJjl59XiT5AudfniSgea5sKLL1vHJ6NRp7NUEcDzM/s221/bios_shmoo_bw.jpg" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Okay, we give up,” said a
Torontonian, “What the hell is a shmoo?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Winnipeggers gasped. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Oh, you
don’t know the shmoo? You’ve gotta have the shmoo!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And that’s when they brought in
this huge cake iced with the whitest cream, served with a gravy boat of butterscotch sauce. My Torontonian boss called it a Baked
Alaska. He was promptly yelled at by every Winnipegger in the room. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So we each had a slice of shmoo and
some dainties. And that shmoo – perfect chiffon cake with the crunch of nuts
and billowy Chantilly cream drizzled with just the right amount of butterscotch –
was incredible. It looks as if it's going to be rich, heavy, and ladened with sugary sweetness. It is, in fact, the opposite. It is a very light, well-balanced dessert, depending on how much sauce you drizzle overtop or have on the side. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It makes me sad (though it makes my hips happy) to think that
they only have this in Winnipeg. When I asked for the recipe, I was told that
nobody makes their own shmoo – there are arguments over which bakery in Winnipeg makes the best shmoo, and people choose their affiliations and order shmoos from their favourite bakery. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgR3jLLKP9wRxsSccqV3tknEjxhE-zxtojDvPnsHcC_Pu63woD7UK0Mow1hE60DArojPQwhYU5NVLP8w45WYZsT9ym3W_cFsSLHiWVQFkaOdAIu9x6OIznZGDnASXjejwmtfdp5Hz4X-81/s1600/IMAG0203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_rUuCPd1sRTkLriZ6s_Jf6dDupz7xGonYYaV1S7ePqXWkn0lBt3KFhkjFictMutIosoYFRREkmzFyTAEU65owm-Mj0K92KyexfhhyUGTaOzFeJTYETI5L-aqx2U99Wk0lMDkR0EDySZLW/s1600/IMAG0202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_rUuCPd1sRTkLriZ6s_Jf6dDupz7xGonYYaV1S7ePqXWkn0lBt3KFhkjFictMutIosoYFRREkmzFyTAEU65owm-Mj0K92KyexfhhyUGTaOzFeJTYETI5L-aqx2U99Wk0lMDkR0EDySZLW/s1600/IMAG0202.jpg" height="320" width="181" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisj5rgZDddmZATA5Ed95yxD_ZwdvALBNrUr5N1NzR3SHGETCfbQdgSzjsRlsfMHwyZenHRossImDdPYspNPNvQlckBSLhcvWSPhrwtYqILiRySdAxrb-0snsswoAmPuYwArAGVQKkd7A6h/s1600/IMAG0200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Since we don’t have that luxury
in the GTA (and if there is a place around here that sells shmoo, will someone
let me know?), I had to make my own shmoo. The pictures here are of the shmoo I made for our Canada Day dessert this year courtesy of the <a href="http://www.canadianliving.com/food/schmoo_cake.php" target="_blank">recipe from Canadian Living</a>. It’s not that difficult once you can make a chiffon cake. But the Winnipeggers are right – there is nothing like the
taste of a shmoo in Winnipeg, with some dainties on the side!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgR3jLLKP9wRxsSccqV3tknEjxhE-zxtojDvPnsHcC_Pu63woD7UK0Mow1hE60DArojPQwhYU5NVLP8w45WYZsT9ym3W_cFsSLHiWVQFkaOdAIu9x6OIznZGDnASXjejwmtfdp5Hz4X-81/s1600/IMAG0203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgR3jLLKP9wRxsSccqV3tknEjxhE-zxtojDvPnsHcC_Pu63woD7UK0Mow1hE60DArojPQwhYU5NVLP8w45WYZsT9ym3W_cFsSLHiWVQFkaOdAIu9x6OIznZGDnASXjejwmtfdp5Hz4X-81/s1600/IMAG0203.jpg" height="320" width="181" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Hint: use your favourite butterscotch sauce recipe. The one from the link above ends up giving you a sauce with a fudgelike consistency, and has to be monitored carefully so it doesn't end up becoming candy. </span></div>
</div>
Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-89437562552180003252013-06-07T00:30:00.000-07:002013-06-07T00:30:00.598-07:00My First Authentic Canadian Food Memory (for The Canadian Food Experience Project, June 7, 2013)<a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/2013/05/06/announcing-the-canadian-food-experience-project/" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The Canadian Food Experience Project</span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> began <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_527569660" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ">June 7 2013</span></span>. As we (</span></em><a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/the-canadian-food-experience-project-participants/" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">participants</span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">) share our collective stories across the vastness of our Canadian landscape through our regional food experiences, we hope to bring global clarity to our Canadian culinary identity through the cadence of our concerted Canadian voice. Please join us.</span></em><br />
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was born at the dawn of multiculturalism
in this country, at the corner of Lawrence & McCowan in Scarborough, Ontario,
Canada. My parents came to Toronto from Trinidad & Tobago, a place where
multiculturalism was a way of life. Caribbean food, especially food in
Trinidad, like the people, comes from a mix of all of the cultures who settled
the island, whether they were brought by slave traders, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>were the slave traders themselves, or
emigrated during British rule. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My experience of Canadian food is probably different
than most, since as a kid, Canadian food meant grilled cheese & fries with
ketchup at the Kresge’s counter with my mom at Eglinton Square after my checkups
with the doctor. Canadian food was the food my mom didn’t cook at home. I grew
up on roti and curry, thick chicken soups, callaloo, pelau, salt fish buljol,
baiganee, and other Trinidadian staples. My mom only started buying Kraft
Dinner after I was old enough to be seduced by television advertising and asked
for it by name. </span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My mother grew up on a farm in Trinidad. My
grandfather raised goats and chickens, had the occasional steer for beef, and
grew fruits and vegetables by the bushel. His farm had a small swamp on it
where he and my uncles would catch fresh blue crab and crayfish and <a href="http://www.stabroeknews.com/2008/the-scene/07/05/hassar-cascadura-%E2%80%93-not-an-ordinary-fish/" target="_blank">cascadoo</a> (a
hard-shelled fish that is special to Trinidad, and has nearly become extinct
now), among other fish. So my mother knew a thing or two about choosing fresh
vegetables, meats, and fish.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Just before I turned 4, my parents moved
from Victoria Park and Ellesmere all the way to Newmarket, Ontario. My parents
wanted to have a nice house with a yard for their kid to play in. Newmarket is
also near the Holland Marsh, and every weekend we would venture up to Bradford
to buy our vegetables and fruits for the week. My mother trusted the produce
straight from the farm over produce at the grocery. It seems obvious now, but
in 1974, people were still enamoured by tinned vegetables, TV dinners, and
instant mashed potatoes. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The backyard at our new house was huge
(definitely larger than most suburban yards these days). The previous owners left
us with a large back garden, which included a large, flourishing plant of
rhubarb. My mother had no idea what to do with rhubarb. We planted our tomatoes
next to it, because, well, all of our neighbours planted tomatoes. It seemed
like the Canadian thing to do. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">(Those tomatoes we planted near the rhubarb
were the sweetest tomatoes I had ever tasted in my <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>young life. I used to eat the ripe ones right
off the vine (because what 4 year old in 1974 would even think about washing a
fruit!) and get in trouble for not leaving any for my mom. To this day, I
prefer the taste of a Canadian backyard-grown, vine-ripened tomato over any
other tomato on the planet.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As for the rhubarb itself, my mother asked
our neighbours, two elderly British ladies who lived together in a large
farmhouse-style home to the back of our house, what she should do with this
plant. The ladies were more than happy to help her out, and told her to wait
until the rhubarb stalks were pure red, then they would be ready to be picked.
They were going to give her a recipe to make a pie out of the fruit (and yet
even though I know rhubarb is technically a vegetable, to this day I still call
it a fruit).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They showed her how to make
a shortcrust dough, and then showed her how to cook down the rhubarb for the
filling and add sugar and spices and then put it into the crust and bake the
pie.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was probably the second most disgusting
thing I’d eaten in my life. After liver.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I hated anything tart, and the tanginess of
the rhubarb, even with sugar, was too much for my 4 year old palate. I spat it
out and swore I’d never eat those red stalks again, and for 35 years, I didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t until I had a child of my own and moved
out to Ajax, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>because I wanted to raise
him in a house with a backyard, and discovered the green belt at this end of
suburbia, where the strawberries smelled like heaven and the rhubarb was redder
than the ripest berry, did I decided to give rhubarb another chance. Then I
learned that the key is to NOT cook the rhubarb before putting it in the pie!<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGBukZ4qoQpOBpy_gNDPM1V0xXZuvhBZy_ZOLslq5oDW6T1ljRpIDsI4Nw83nu5DD2HJMmXqWmTZaOF6Fm4bu1Ag7llPKsrFj7xM2AYXeMnf-uhAu3vp5rNtuT7x6ILww2Tkb4uGgv4GBl/s1600/rhubarb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGBukZ4qoQpOBpy_gNDPM1V0xXZuvhBZy_ZOLslq5oDW6T1ljRpIDsI4Nw83nu5DD2HJMmXqWmTZaOF6Fm4bu1Ag7llPKsrFj7xM2AYXeMnf-uhAu3vp5rNtuT7x6ILww2Tkb4uGgv4GBl/s320/rhubarb.jpg" width="181" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For those of you who are now craving
strawberry-rhubarb pie (since strawberries are now in season), here’s my own personal
recipe for the filling. Pie crust is more about technique than recipe, so
whatever you choose for your pie crust, if it’s Crisco, butter, lard, or some
combination of those, the key is to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">freeze</i>
your fat, and then use a box grater to grate it into the flour mixture (I use 2
c flour, 1 Tbsp sugar and 1 tsp salt for 1 cup of fat). Use a pastry blender or
knife to mix the grated bits in, then add ice cold water, bring it together
using the knife you used to stir in the bits of fat, and then dump the lump
right onto plastic wrap. Wrap that lump of dough and then shape it into a ball
(I shape mine into discs so they chill through, but to each their own) while in
the wrap. Wrap overtop of this and then refrigerate overnight or for a minimum
of 2 hours. Not 20 min. 2 hours. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong><u>Strawberry Rhubarb Pie<o:p></o:p></u></strong></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 pie crust recipe that will make a top and bottom crust.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><em>For the filling:<o:p></o:p></em></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2 cups diced fresh rhubarb (try to get it redder
than the ones in the picture)<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">3 cups diced hulled fresh strawberries <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">¾ to 1 cup white granulated sugar<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">½ cup packed brown sugar<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">½ tsp cinnamon<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">¼ tsp nutmeg<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">½ tsp ground cardamom<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">¼ cup cornstarch or 1/3 cup tapioca starch<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pinch of salt<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 beaten egg<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Combine rhubarb,
strawberries, and ½ cup of white sugar in a bowl. Toss the fruit in the sugar,
then dump it all in a colander and leave it to drain in the sink or over another
bowl for at least 45 min but no more than 1 hour.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When the fruit has
been sitting for about 30 min, preheat oven to 350F and line bottom of pie dish
with bottom crust. Put bottom crust back into the fridge until your fruit is
drained.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">3.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After the fruit has
been drained, put it into another bowl and add remaining ingredients. Toss to
combine well but work fast since your fruit will be mushy and liquidy.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">4.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Take bottom pie crust
out of the fridge and add fruit. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">5.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">You may choose to top
the pie with a lattice using the second half of the crust. It looks prettiest,
but if you just want to put the top on and cut a nice pattern in it, you can do
that too. Don’t leave it without a top, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Just make sure to put a top on with ventilation, and crimp the edges
well. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">6.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Brush pastry with
beaten egg and place in oven for 20 minutes. You may choose to TENT a piece of
tin foil over the pie at this point, but be careful not to squish or tuck the
foil onto the pie itself. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">7.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Continue to bake the
pie from 45-60 minutes more, or until the filling is cooked through and
bubbling, and your crust is golden brown. Remove from oven and let cool
somewhere where nobody will try to eat it. (Good luck with
that).</span></span></div>
Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-60997545886903221962013-06-01T16:27:00.000-07:002013-06-01T16:27:27.801-07:00The Canadian Food Experience Project (or how I'm reactivating my food blog)So I haven't posted here in almost a year. How do I know that? Because my last blog had something to do with butter tarts and the Tour de France, and the Tour is starting again in <em>exactly 28 days from today</em> (squee!!). <br />
<br />
It's not that I haven't been cooking, or baking, or anything culinary for a year. I have. But I've also been trying to write offline. Recently I've been encouraged to go back, pick up the page, and make a concerted effort to make this writing thing a go. After all, I'm hitting my mid-life crisis (as you can tell if you've seen the sixteen colours in my hair these days, including but not limited to, grey) and if I don't do this now, well, it's never going to happen, and I might as well just go back into the ocean of commonality sludge with all the other dreams that die...<br />
<br />
So I've been hanging out in the world of fiction. It's a fun place because you get to make stuff up (like hanging out with men who look like Alexander Skarsgard and Justin Theroux). But really, it's hard work. And I want people to read what I'm writing now. Plus, I want to write more about food. I love sharing my recipes, and I even love the feedback I get from people who've tried making the bacon & eggs cheesecake ("mine cracked. How did you get yours not to crack?" etc.).<br />
<br />
This morning, I was sitting around, waiting for people to wake up, sipping my green tea, and checking my Twitter feed to see what nonsense had happened overnight when there was a very interesting tweet from @lucywaverman:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjupLVqxZhWDZvJp7eBdqVdtfOsrRyy_1I8y7ZZ_kEhmaCjH4GHW5Od7bHc-Omps2ib2icdhBgvssq0m7fB1Ig_ctc4GMKEH8_wFYXfA7FAFYbHodbt0Tw2oYiWp3DNHSBXwGj3GubQsLV-/s1600/lucystweet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjupLVqxZhWDZvJp7eBdqVdtfOsrRyy_1I8y7ZZ_kEhmaCjH4GHW5Od7bHc-Omps2ib2icdhBgvssq0m7fB1Ig_ctc4GMKEH8_wFYXfA7FAFYbHodbt0Tw2oYiWp3DNHSBXwGj3GubQsLV-/s640/lucystweet.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
So I clicked on the link, and read about <a href="http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/2013/05/06/announcing-the-canadian-food-experience-project/" target="_blank">The Canadian Food Experience Project</a>. And well, I'm Canadian. I like food. And I like writing about food. So I contacted Valerie, and now I've signed up!<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This will now make sure you have at least one (1) new food blog entry each month. This coming entry (due on June 7th which is Friday as I write this - ack! deadlines!!) will be about <span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">My First Authentic Canadian Food Memory. Now given that I was born and raised here, and given that my parents are from Trinidad, this should be a very interesting memory. It may not be as luscious or organic as some of the other writers, but it will be Canadian, and it will be uniquely mine. </span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">So stay tuned to this page... :)</span></div>
Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-63826333236060139992012-07-02T06:06:00.001-07:002012-07-02T06:06:49.456-07:00CanadianaHappy Canada Day!! July is my favourite month of the year. It starts off with Canada Day (a stat holiday) and then has the Tour de France (21 days of well-toned men in lycra), and we don't even need a coat!!<br />
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So for this Canada Day weekend, I thought I'd try making some Canadiana dish, in between writing the novel that no one will ever see and the blog that no one reads (not this one but <a href="http://thebadwriter.blogspot.ca/" target="_blank">this one</a>). So I set out on the quest to make the most grandma of desserts, the humble butter tart.<br />
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Butter tarts (or tarte au sucre if you're from Quebec - Happy Belated St. Jean-Baptiste by the way) are a pure Canadian concoction. Well they appear to originate from Quebec, who are conveniently Canadian to the rest of us when they do something good (butter tarts, poutine, depanneurs, GSP, Schwartz's) and then are those friggin French whenever they do something the rest of the country finds off-putting (hockey riots, student riots, FLQ riots). Personally, my politics are for a Canada that includes Quebec just as it is, with its distinct society and its obscene taxes on gasoline (where you can also buy beer, unlike anywhere else in the country except for Alberta. In fact, Quebec and Alberta have a lot in common, but whatever you do, don't tell them that!).<br />
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And so, my Canada includes the humble butter tart. Some people like to put things into butter tarts, like nuts (nuts are not indigenous to Canada, so why?) or raisins (raisins are rabbit droppings from hell, so again, why?). I like my tarte au sucre as nature intended - plain, just a little runny, and sweet.<br />
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When I looked at the components of the butter tart, it's really just a pate sucree with a runny filling. Though really, the crust should be made with le Tenderflake (and I found out why in the process) instead of butter.<br />
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<b><u>Pate Sucree</u></b><br />
(from La Varenne)<br />
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1 2/3 cups (200g) soft flour (all-purpose will do in a pinch)<br />
6 1/2 Tbsp (100g) cold, unsalted butter (does not have to be cubed) or Tenderflake lard (yes lard)<br />
1/2 cup (100g) caster or confectioners sugar (if caster - pate sucree; if confectioners - pate sablee)<br />
4 egg yolks (cold)<br />
1/2 tsp salt (I used 1/4 because I had sea salt)<br />
1/2 tsp real (please) vanilla extract<br />
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Sift flour, sugar, and salt together onto a clean, smooth work surface. Make a well in the centre. Using your knuckles, pound the butter to soften it (a good stress reliever). Add the butter into the flour until it looks like cornmeal. Make another well and add the yolks and vanilla, bringing the whole thing together.<br />
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Using a pastry scraper, spatula, or knife, work the crumbs until you have large pieces that stick together. Press crumbs into a ball and knead with the heel of your hand until it comes together as one smooth piece of pastry. This will take a few minutes. Work out that stress. Once its smooth, form it into a ball and wrap it tightly in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for at least 30 min to overnight, remembering that it is butter/lard in there, so if you leave it for too long, you'll have to let it warm up a bit before rolling it.<br />
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When you're ready to make tarts, roll out the dough as you would for a large pie, until it's about 1/3-1/2 inch thick. Yes make them this thick! Then cut large circles, about an inch larger than your tart tin or muffin tin. If you're using muffin tins, for the love of God grease them, even if they're no stick. Because in the world of the butter tart, there is no such thing as "non-stick". They're butter tarts!!<br />
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Take your cut circle and form it around the muffin tin/tart tin, making sure that no holes form. If you tear the pastry, make sure you fix it, so that there is no way in hell your tart will leak from the bottom. (Trust me!) Once you've lined your tins, put them back in the fridge while you make your filling.<br />
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So while I was watching Stage 1 of the Tour de France today (now yesterday as I'm finishing this entry during Stage 2), I put together a pate sucree and chilled it, then rolled it out and thought, why am I going to make these in muffin tins? Why not be fancy about it and use my tart tins that I never use (again I found out why in the process)? So, I rolled my pate sucree tart thin, and lined my tart tins.<br />
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To make the filling, I used maple syrup instead of corn syrup. Why? Because it's Canada Day, that's why! And what the hell, corn syrup? Did you know that shit can power your car? Corn syrup scares me. Even more than raisins.<br />
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<b><u style="background-color: red;">Maple Butter Tart Filling</u></b><br />
<span style="background-color: red;">1/4 cup unsalted butter, softened</span><br />
<span style="background-color: red;">1/4 cup packed brown sugar</span><br />
<span style="background-color: red;">1/2 tsp vanilla</span><br />
<span style="background-color: red;">1 whole egg</span><br />
<span style="background-color: red;">1/2 cup maple syrup</span><br />
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(yes that's it. I couldn't believe it, either.)<br />
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First, set your oven to 375F. Whatever Celsius. In Canada, we use metric for everything but cooking. Deal with it, Europeans!<br />
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The best way to mix this is by hand. I know...nobody has hand-creamed butter and sugar since 1972. But you have to for this. Or else it's a waste of electricity and it's just not right, eh? So, using a wooden spoon, cream butter and sugar together until it's smooth. Then add egg and vanilla and whisk until fluffy and even. Then stir (not whisk) in maple syrup until blended. Bits of butter will float to the top. That's ok. That's your tart cap.<br />
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Take your shells out of the fridge. Pour in the filling to about halfway up the tart. Don't go all the way up. Why? Because it's sugar, damnit. What does sugar do at high heat? It bubbles! So fill it 1/2 maybe 2/3 if you like to live dangerously. Fill as many as your mix allows (mine did 7). Then put them in the oven for about 12 minutes. Check. <strike>If they are leaking and flowing all over, cry.</strike> If they're not bubbling, leave them for another 4 - 7 minutes. When they bubble, give them a minute and then take them out. <strike>Pray to God they haven't leaked.</strike> If you are worried about leakage, make sure your tins are on a cookie sheet.<br />
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So here's how the good ones turned out, because, well, nobody ever posts pics of the disasters, do they?<br />
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That is, until now:<br />
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What happened? Well, they're butter tarts. The crust was made with butter. Butter melts in the heat. Butter also melts through butter. Ergo, leaks all over the place. Leaks which might have been contained had I used the muffin tins for the tarts as every self-respecting Canadian grandma will tell you.<br />
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But hell, they tasted amazing! So good they can only be described with bad grammar...<br />
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So enjoy the rest of your Canada Day weekend. Have a butter tart! And since all the stores are closed Monday, go for it and make your own. Spoon any leaked filling on top of chantilly cream or Canadiana ice cream by Chapman's. :)Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-84923858080451631642012-06-03T11:39:00.000-07:002012-06-03T11:39:16.662-07:00More Fun with Nutella<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is there any more polarizing food than Nutella? People either love it or hate it. But very rarely is anyone indifferent about it. Many cyclists consider it ambrosia. Many women consider it ambrosia. Many other people think it was created in the bowels of hell and should stay there.</span><div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am a reformed Nutella consumer. I loved it as a child, hated it once my hormones kicked in, and now, in the twilight of my biological clock years, am starting to love it once again. (Maybe it's an estrogen thing...?) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've already made the aforementioned crack cookies (in my previous blog), which are still the best cookies I have ever made. I tried a stuffed Nutella cookie, and it was okay, but they weren't as "cracky".</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, it's strawberry season. We're two weeks early this year, thanks to the summer conditions we had in and around the Greater Toronto Area in March and early April. In late April, we did have a frost, and some of our strawberry farmers struggled to keep their plants alive. But alive they stayed, and so I picked up the first sweet Ontario strawberries of the season last weekend.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My son is currently in a strawberry phase. "I love strawberries because they are so healthy!" he says. Except when it comes to eating them. He likes looking at them, smelling them, but putting them in his mouth whole? Nope. Still won't do it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I was stuck with this quart of strawberries. I suppose I could have eaten them all, but that would be selfish of me (never mind I really don't feel up for a cleanse at the moment). And I was stuck for a breakfast idea. I was going to make strawberry muffins, but muffins last way too long in my house since, well, I don't eat them. My son will eat them the day they are made, but after that, they sit there. And my partner is off carbs at the moment. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I made a batch of crack cookies yesterday, and stared at the Nutella jar on the counter this morning. What goes with strawberries better than chocolate? There had to be a recipe out there for strawberry Nutella something...sure, lots of recipes for Nutella pancakes with strawberries on top. But again, that doesn't solve the problem of my son's disdain for fruit looking like fruit.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I made up my own recipe. And he ate it. And so did everyone else. So I'm sharing it with you, because really, if you're a Nutella <strike>junkie </strike>fan, it's only fair to share Nutella recipes with the world:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><u>Strawberry Nutella Pancakes</u></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Makes 7 large or 12 mid-small pancakes</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 cup plain flour (all-purpose or whole wheat or bread flour)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 1/2 Tbsp sugar (white or brown)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 1/2 - 2 tsp baking powder (depending on how fluffy you want your pancakes)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1/4 tsp salt</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 large egg</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 cup plain milk (not buttermilk or cream)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1/4 - 1/3 cup Nutella (to taste)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 tsp vanilla</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2 Tbsp melted unsalted butter, cooled</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 pint minimum but not more than 1 quart fresh strawberries, hulled, washed, and pureed</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First things first - wash your strawberries. Don't buy a huller. Just use a paring knife and cut the green part off. These are being pureed, so there's no need to make them look fancy. Puree them in a chopper or food processor (or a mortar and pestle if you have the time, but most of us are busy trying to wake up children and/or make sure they don't kill themselves during unsupervised play time). Set aside.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blend all the dry ingredients together in a large-ish bowl. Don't use a spoon. Use a whisk, pastry blender, or a fork. Make sure the baking powder is incorporated well into the flour. If you want, you can add a dash (1/4 tsp) of cinnamon or cardamom or both into the dry ingredients at this point. Set aside.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mix all the wet ingredients, including the Nutella and strawberries, into a medium bowl. For this, don't use a whisk. You can use a spoon or a fork, but if the Nutella is in globs, it's not a problem, really. Just make sure your eggs are a little scrambled into your milk, berries, and Nutella. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, here's the secret to fluffy, yummy pancakes: Dump the wet into the dry. Stir, or better, fold in less than 10 times with a spoon (or whatever you used to mix the wet ingredients together), until most of the flour is barely blended in. Do not overmix. It doesn't have to be homogeneous. It just has to "meet" - dry, meet wet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Second secret to great pancakes - get a cast iron skillet. It can be used as a weapon, but it's the best thing ever for pancakes. It holds heat well, is thick enough to keep the fire off the bottom, and they come out oh-so fluffalicious! Use a ladle or large spoon to pour batter into the centre of the skillet for a pancake large enough to eat but small enough that you can handle easily. And watch. Soon you'll see little bubbles start to appear at the surface. Keep watching. The bubbles will burst and not close up. Keep watching. The edges will start to look dry and matte. There you go. Use your flipper, slide it under, and flip! Perfect pancake. Wait until the bottom looks as dry as the top of your edge, and then turn onto a plate. Or, if you're still not sure, stick them in a warm (185F) oven until you've finished your batch and are ready to serve.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I served these with whipped cream (like cream I whipped myself by hand, unsweetened. Not that stuff in a can. And good lord NOT cool whip!), and maple syrup, and for my stepdaughter, topped with whole tiny strawberries. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sorry I only have pics of the prep, but you'll see, they are a pretty colour. And if you have Nutella fiends in your house...they'll just ask for more!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-25576926557924663092012-02-02T16:23:00.000-08:002012-02-02T16:23:28.580-08:00Crack Cookies!!!Last Sunday was a beautiful Wintring morning. Since we haven't really had Winter yet, except for a couple of days, and it was nice and warm like Spring, and it's after January first, I'm making up a new word and calling it Wintring. <br />
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I woke up early. The sun was shining. The birds were singing. The tank is clean...<br />
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Anyway, I had an urge to bake something with peanut butter. The child did not want muffins. He wanted eggs and sausage. So no peanut butter there.<br />
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I didn't want to make just any old peanut butter cookies. I wanted something different. So I went to my good friend Google, and Google led me to <a href="http://backtoherroots.com/2011/10/08/sweet-saturday-peanut-butter-and-nutella-cookies/#comment-29623" target="_blank"><span style="color: yellow;"><b>these</b></span></a>. They are quite easy to make, and it's a good recipe. I substituted organic red fife flour for the whole wheat flour, which added an extra nutty taste, and organic peanut butter for that crap that they make with hydrogenated peanut oil and shitloads of icing sugar.<br />
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In the middle of rolling the cookies for the cookie sheets, my BBM went off. Normally I would have just waited until I was finished, but I was expecting some news during the weekend, and unfortunately, it was the sad news that we had anticipated. I had one batch in the oven, and a second batch on a second tray nearly ready to go. There was still some dough remaining in the mixing bowl, so I threw some plastic wrap over it and put the entire bowl in the fridge.<br />
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As I was on my way to the funeral, the sunny day that I had woken up to quickly became overcast, and as we drove to the gravesite after the service, the snow started falling in giant flakes. By the time we had buried the body (most people at the site performed the mitzvah of helping the family bury the body by shoveling dirt into the grave after the body is placed inside), we were standing in near whiteout conditions. The family's limo fishtailed as it left the cemetery, but they and the rest of us were okay. Since the storm was travelling eastward, I ended up driving all the way home in it. When I did get home, the one thing that helped settle me from the day's events was taking the remainder of the dough out of the fridge and rolling it up into cookies, pressing each one with a fork (as you do with peanut butter cookies).<br />
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I also noticed that, when I came back, the 18 cookies that had been baked had suddenly become 4. And the 18 I baked after that were consumed within 24 hours of leaving the oven.<br />
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So let me warn you know - these are comfort cookies that will bring you joy in your time of sorrow. They are also, simply put, highly addictive. Make sure you make a double batch, as I have to when I make them again this Saturday for UFC night. :)Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-46985699786296961012011-10-01T20:11:00.000-07:002011-10-01T20:11:07.606-07:00The Trifecta Cheesecake Weekend (Part 2)So when I last left you, dear Reader, you were going to try the incredible <a href="http://grumbleoftheday.blogspot.com/2011/10/trifecta-cheesecake-weekend.html">bacon and eggs cheesecake</a> . And I had promised you that I made my 40-something friend an <i>even better one</i>.<br />
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But how can you improve upon such sinful goodness? By adding on a couple more sins to the mix.<br />
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Notice the difference in colour? It brings out the bacon (there is actually more bacon in the other cake, but the colour of this cake enhances the bacon bits). What could give a cream-coloured cheesecake such a tan-like colour? Sun lamp?</div>
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Remember when I said my friend and her husband were Irish? Now, far be it for me to stereotype people. My partner is half Irish and my son has a full Irish name. But really, the only thing that could make a bacon and eggs cheesecake better is to add alcohol to it. And not just any alcohol, but that most famous of Irish liqueurs used in cheesecakes worldwide.</div>
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<b><u>Bacon and Bailey's Cheesecake</u></b></div>
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Follow the directions for the bacon and eggs cheesecake, except you add 3/4 cup (yes THAT much) of Bailey's to the mix just after you mix the eggs in. To make it even more decadent, melt a 2 oz square of baking chocolate, and allow it to cool but not solidify. After you add the bacon, and pour it into the pan, pour the chocolate on top and use a knife to swirl it in for a marble effect. (Yes I am trying to get Wilford Brimley to visit your house).</div>
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Bake this cake for 45-60 min, again doing the jiggle test after 35 min. </div>
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Normally, this size of cheesecake will serve about 6 - 8 people. But you will either refuse to share it or you will want to cut very small slices since it's so rich. If the latter, you're a better person than both my friend and I, who hid it away from the rest of her party. </div>
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<br />Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-75821356576346410442011-10-01T19:41:00.000-07:002011-10-01T19:41:49.481-07:00The Trifecta Cheesecake Weekend (Part 1)Hello world! It's been quite a while since I've been here. I would apologize, but life just seems to get in the way of things. Except when it comes to two things - bacon and cheesecake.<br />
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Honestly, I am not the biggest cheesecake fan. I really find it a rather bland dessert. But, much like sweet cream ice cream, the humble plain New York or Philly-style cheesecake can be a base to lead you to somewhere beyond the dessert universe.<br />
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And yet, I have many friends who would walk over their mothers for a good cheesecake. And who wouldn't hesitate to sell out their country's innermost secrets for bacon...mmmm...bacon.<br />
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A while ago I made bacon and eggs ice cream. It sounded intriguing. And the Bacon Master of the house, my son, couldn't get enough of it, and neither could his bacon-loving male relatives.<br />
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So I made a promise to my bacon-loving friend. As he and his lovely wife were looking for a house this past March, I said that when they bought a house, my housewarming gift to them would be a bacon and eggs cheesecake.<br />
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Well, they bought a house. They moved in June. They scheduled their housewarming for August. (Note to self: schedule a housewarming for myself sometime before I move.) So I had to think of a bacon and eggs cheesecake recipe, since, if you google it, well, that's probably how you happened upon this blog.<br />
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Unfortunately, they scheduled their housewarming on the day of my friend's 40th birthday. She is Irish. Her husband is Irish. They had an unlimited bar. Dilemma.<br />
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I had already committed to make the bacon and eggs cheesecake, and my soon-to-be 40something friend liked the sound of that as well. But I still wasn't sure how this was going to work.<br />
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You see, the caf at work (and if anyone from work is reading this, please don't run from the cheesecake recipe) has a breakfast special every Monday of toasted bagel with bacon and cream cheese. And it is <i>fan-fucking-tastic. </i> I have been eating that every Monday for 6 years, save the 6 months during my pregnancy where I had to forego bacon because it was a cured meat.<br />
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So if bacon and cream cheese worked, and bacon and eggs made wonderful ice cream, surely this cheesecake could not fail.<br />
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See for yourself. Here's the recipe:<br />
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<u>Bacon and Eggs Cheesecake</u><br />
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6 strips applewood or maple-smoked bacon, thick or thin cut (not double smoked)<br />
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one dinner plateful of brown sugar (not golden - has to be brown and clumpy)<br />
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1 1/4 cups graham crumbs<br />
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1/4 c. melted unsalted butter<br />
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3 pkgs of cream cheese (full-fat - using half-fat is like having a Big Mac with a Diet Coke) (use Lactancia cream cheese if you can find it, since it's the best for baking)<br />
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3/4 c. white granulated sugar<br />
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3 eggs<br />
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1 tsp. vanilla extract<br />
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First things first - you need to make caramelized bacon. WARNING: this is like opening a crack lab in your house. It may sound repulsive, but once you try the end product, you will want to do nothing else for the rest of your days except make and eat caramelized (aka candied) bacon. You will yell at the oven to cook it faster. You will burn your tongue on melted sugar and bacon fat. You must summon all your willpower and ensure that you can make this without eating it.<br />
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To make caramelized bacon: preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Cover a regular-sized baking sheet with tin foil, and place a cooling rack on top of it. Take a piece of bacon and dip it in the brown sugar, packing on as much brown sugar onto the piece as will stay on it (don't worry, some always falls off). Place the piece on the rack, and continue until all 6 pieces are covered. Pack any leftover brown sugar onto the pieces as they sit on the rack.<br />
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Bake the pieces until the sugar has melted and the bacon is cooked, about 12 - 15 minutes, depending on thickness. Keep an eye out for burning sugar mixed with burning fat. You may have to change pans part way through, or open all the windows (and let your neighbours know what's going on? Never!). Once the bacon is done, take it out of the oven and let it cool completely until it is crispy and crackly (no pun intended). Put it aside.<br />
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Yes, you will have to put a big sign on it. Maybe hire some Vegan Security Guards to stand next to the plate while you make the rest of your cheesecake.</div>
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The cheesecake is quite simple. I posted a recipe earlier for my pumpkin cheesecake <a href="http://grumbleoftheday.blogspot.com/2010/10/so-now-were-in-october.html">here</a> , which you can use for the technique for the springform prep, the graham crust prep (though you will notice that I no longer add sugar to my graham crust. I find this enhances the flavour of the cheesecake more. Plus a little less sugar is a little longer that I keep Wilford Brimley out of my house), and the mixing of the cheesecake. </div>
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While you're baking your graham crust, take your crack, er, caramelized bacon, and cut it into teeny tiny little bits. Use a chef's knife (the heavy blade that looks like a full triangle), pile about four pieces on top of each other, and cut them in 1/8" strips following the short side. Then, cut these pieces in half along the length of the bacon (so that you have teeny bacon squares). Try to get them as small as possible. You're going for the artificial bacon bit look, not the breakfast strip bacon look. </div>
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Following the cheesecake method for the pumpkin cheesecake (using all white sugar for our recipe here), mix all ingredients together, but instead of adding spices and pumpkin flesh, you add the bacon bits just before you pour the mix into the springforms. How much bacon? Add by the handful and keep your eye on the mix - you can't really put too much, but remember, it's supposed to be bacon AND eggs cheesecake. Stir the bits in gently, until they look evenly distributed. </div>
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Bake following the pumpkin cheesecake method, but reduce the time to about 35 - 45 min. Check the cake after 30 min - jiggle it ever so slightly. If it runs like you just put it in, leave it for another 15 min. If it jiggles like cafeteria jello, then turn your oven off and leave the cake in with the oven door open until it can be removed without mitts. </div>
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WARNING: Your cake WILL crack a bit around the bacon bit pieces, like this:</div>
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It's OK. If you've allowed it to cool in the oven, then the little cracks won't develop into big ones.</div>
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Let me know how you like this one. I thought it was so nice that I made it twice that weekend. Once for my friends and once for me. </div>
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But what about your 40-something friend, you ask? Didn't you say this was a TRIFECTA cheesecake weekend? </div>
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Well I made her something special. REALLY special!!....(to be continued).</div>
Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-25863774065999408422011-09-06T19:18:00.000-07:002011-09-06T19:18:39.292-07:00The easiest and yummiest Angel Food Cake. Period.Apparently I'm known for making cheesecakes. Don't get me wrong. I love making cheesecakes and I like to live dangerously by never, ever ever, never ever ever using a water bath. The crust never stays crusty with a water bath, no matter how many layers of tin foil you wrap the springform in. The cake never tastes done. I don't care if it's the "only way" or the "professional" way. I'd much rather bake it at a lower temperature right on the damn rack. And I've figured out a way to avoid the crack.<br />
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But we're not here to talk about cheesecake. I haven't blogged since the Fall about my culinary creations. Not that I haven't made any. I've just been busy with the holidays and obsessing about the weight I gained before and after the holidays to blog about all the food I've made. <br />
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At least once a month we have our friends over for a UFC Fight Night. My male companion usually BBQs, even in the depths of winter, and I usually make the accompaniments, including (and always) the dessert. It's usually cheesecake, but on occasion, I have made the most awesome Vanilla Bean Ice Cream and Strawberry Shortcake and other things which I should have probably blogged about (and I might later, and when I do, I'll put links in this blog to take you to those ones).<br />
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But last weekend, since we're all on the "let's try not to kill ourselves with saturated trans fats before we turn 50" diet, and because I don't want to be known as "The Cheesecake Lady Junior" (my mom being the Cheesecake Lady Senior in her heyday), I gave my guests a choice for dessert. Thankfully, the majority chose an Angel Food Cake. Thankfully because (a) for the aforementioned reasons and (b) I had about 24 frozen egg whites that were taking up precious room for homemade ice cream (I went through a bit of a hollandaise obsession over the holidays - perfected my method, but many egg yolks sacrificed their never-to-be-a-baby-chick lives for the privilege of being poured over salmon and asparagus twice a week).<br />
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I searched high and low for a good Angel Food Cake technique (I know the recipe - egg whites, cake flour, sugar, and lots of freakin' air). Surprisingly, Rose Levy Berenbaum's book only had a Chocolate Angel Food Cake recipe. Since I found out one of my friends wasn't a big chocolate fan (the hard way after making double chocolate almond cheesecake for her anniversary), that was out. But I didn't want it to be just plain. <br />
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So I picked up a book I had always looked at but thought would be too hard for me to use: Regan Dailey's In The Sweet Kitchen. She had a lovely recipe for Poppyseed Angel Food Cake. Except after a rib dinner, the last thing people want to do for dessert is spend the entire time picking seeds out of their teeth. So I hemmed and hawed, and opened my spice cupboard to reveal: cinnamon (no, too strong), nutmeg (maybe, but a bit too savoury), cloves (WAY too strong), and cardamom. Cardamom, eh? Hmmm...<br />
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The picture says it all. I nearly forgot to take a picture for this blog, so it's the last piece left. Here's the entire recipe, with Regan Dailey's awesome mixing technique. I actually made a big mistake, but somehow it worked out. Once you try it, you'll never make an Angel Food Cake any other way again:<br />
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Cardamom Angel Food Cake<br />
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1 cup (unsifted) Cake & Pastry Flour (or just Cake Flour if you happen to have it). Do NOT use self-rising Cake & Pastry Flour. (why would you anyways?)<br />
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1 1/2 cups granulated or caster white sugar<br />
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1 tsp ground cardamom<br />
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1 1/2 liquid cups egg whites at ROOM temperature (you will NOT die)<br />
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2 Tbsp lukewarm water (tap is fine)<br />
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3/4 tsp cream of tartar<br />
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2 tsp vanilla extract<br />
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First things first - turn on your oven to 350 degrees F. Then clean your kitchen like you've never cleaned before. Make sure you can perform open heart surgery in the area where you will be making your cake. <br />
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Once your kitchen is clean, if you need to, separate your eggs (remember I took mine out of the freezer the night before and they were ready to be used by 11AM the next day. Yes THAT long!). Make sure that there is no speck of yolk, brown thingy, shell, or fetal chicken in your white, and for God's sake make sure you've used sterilized equipment for the whole process. (OK maybe not sterilized, as heated metal bowls may cook your egg whites, but make sure your mixing bowls are clean enough to use during your open heart surgery procedure.) If you don't know how to separate eggs, here's a trick I learned from a kid's cookbook: take a CLEAN teacup and saucer (like the fancy ones, yes.). Crack the egg onto the saucer, making sure the yolk stays whole and that no shell falls into the egg (use a piece of shell to take out other pieces of shell. It does work!). Then put the teacup over the yolk and tip the saucer over your clean bowl so the white falls out. When the white stops dripping, put the plate back on the counter, and voila - separated egg! 1 1/2 liquid cups of egg whites are about 10 - 12 egg whites. Make sure you leave them out to get to room temperature. If you stick your (clean) finger in the cup and you still feel a chill, wait. Trust me. Don't coddle them or use the microwave. Just wait. Go surf the web, update your Facebook status, have a couple glasses of wine, anything. Let nature take its course.<br />
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While you're waiting for your eggs to warm up, measure the flour, the cardamom, and all but 1/4 cup of the sugar into a sifter or large mesh strainer. Sift this mix three times. Yes, three times. Leave aside.<br />
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Take out your 10" aluminum tube pan, ungreased (don't use no-stick, you don't need to, but if you do, please turn down the temperature 25 degrees F), and keep it handy. Also, grab an empty wine bottle and make sure it is empty by overturning it in the sink to get the last drops out. Do NOT use a champagne bottle. Do NOT use a full bottle. It has to be empty. If you don't drink, then get yourself one of those empty bottles from Ikea. If you are waiting for your egg whites to warm up, then drive over to Ikea, buy a bottle out of the Marketplace, and come home. Your eggs should be warm by the time you get back (because nobody lives next door to Ikea. Nobody.).<br />
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Set up your stand or hand mixer and make sure the bowl is clean. Put your egg whites in the bowl, and put your mixer on HIGH/10/ultimate speed. When you start to see foam add the 2 Tbsp of water, and then put it back on HIGH until it turns to soft peaks (about 30 seconds in a stand mixer). Add the cream of tartar and then beat the mixture on HIGH again for another 20 seconds, then add the 1/4 cup of sugar. Beat until the egg whites are almost cardboard stiff (hard peaks). <br />
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Now here comes the fun part. Go wash your hands and dry them with a clean towel. Make sure you use warmish water. Remove the egg whites from the stand and sprinkle 1/4 of the flour mixture over the egg whites. Stick your hand in (DO IT) and gently but quickly fold the flour into the whites. It feels like you're folding a cloud. When you don't feel any more lumps, add the next 1/4 of flour, and continue by 1/4s until all the flour's been mixed in. If you're gentle enough, you will hardly deflate the whites. NOW use your hand to put the batter into the cake pan. Works way better than a rubber scraper. <br />
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Once you have scraped all the batter out of the bowl and into the pan, and off of your hands and into the pan, gently swirl a butter knife in the batter to get out any air pockets. DO NOT BANG THE PAN TO GET RID OF AIR BUBBLES. This ain't a pound cake or a cheesecake. You bang an angel food cake and it will fall faster than an anvil on the coyote's head.<br />
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Rinse your hands quickly and put the pan in the middle of the oven. Set your timer for 40 - 45 min, and leave the kitchen for at least 30 of those. Don't let anyone else in the kitchen. No dogs, no cats, no running children, no teenagers or spouses foraging for snacks. Don't run your dishwasher. Don't clean up yet. Just. Leave. Why? Because any slight and sudden vibration will MAKE THE CAKE FALL. You may think you're being gentle and quiet by washing the dishes, but unless your sink is at least 20 feet away from your oven, then just wait. Barracade the kitchen. If people go in, don't yell at them, just gently guide them out. Yelling can also make the cake fall (bad karma, loud noise). Think of the cake as a newborn baby that has cried for 72 hours straight and then finally fell asleep. <br />
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After 30 minutes, go turn on your oven light and take a look. The cake should have doubled in size and started to crack on the top a bit. It might even be browning. But DON'T OPEN THE DOOR. Tiptoe away from the oven for at least another 10 minutes.<br />
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Come back after those 10 minutes are up. If the top is golden brown and lovely, take a toothpick in one hand and, very carefully, open the door. If your kitchen is near a door or window that leads outside and it's winter when you make this cake, make sure that nobody opens the goddamn door while you do this. Firstly, lightly touch the top of the cake. If it springs back, just for insurance sake, stick the toothpick in and make sure it comes out clean. If it does, you're done. If the cake does NOT spring back, wait another 5 minutes and try again until it does. <br />
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Now here's the tricky part. Take your empty bottle and put it near the stove. Take the cake pan out of the oven. Tilt it on its side and stick the bottle in the hole in the tube pan. Invert the cake onto the bottle (it will hold) and leave it to cool upside down until the cake is room temperature.<br />
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Now you're looking at this page and saying, "Shit. I don't have a bottle. I forgot to get one, or I'm still drinking my wine." Well, you can use a colander. But it's not as much fun and it may take longer to cool your cake. Plus it won't freak people out the way a cake pan on a bottle does. <br />
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While the cake is cooling, make sure that nobody OPENS THE OUTSIDE DOOR OR WINDOWS. A draft will demolish all your hard work in the blink of an eye. If it's summer, you might be OK, but then you risk bees, flies, and other woodland creatures coming in and stealing your cake off the counter.<br />
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While your cake is cooling, you can make icing if you want. I used a whipped cream icing. Clean up all the stuff you used to make your cake, rinsing with very cold water. Fix the bowl and whisk attachment back onto your stand mixer. Take 2 cups of very cold whipping cream (35% cream) and pour it into the bowl. Add 2 Tbsp white sugar and 1 tsp of vanilla (if you want). Put it on HIGH/10 again. Watch it go. When it's just a little less firmer than the egg whites, stop the machine and put the bowl into the fridge until you're ready to ice your cake.<br />
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Once you can touch your cake pan with your bare hands and there is no warmth whatsoever (so about an hour), take it off the bottle. Take a sharp, thin knife (I use a boning knife - yes I know butchers and chefs. Get over it.) and run it along the side of the pan, and along the tube in the middle (between the tube and the cake). Turn the pan over, above a plate, and push down on the springform bottom. (Your tube pan isn't springform? Then you used a Bundt pan. You can still take it out, but you'll have to hit it very hard or get a scraper into the bowels of the pan to push the cake out.) Once the cake falls out onto the plate, run the same knife between the bottom of the tube and the cake. Lift up the bottom. There's your masterpiece! It should have about tripled in size. <br />
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If you have any problems with the cake, send me an email and let me know. If you have any successes, let me know too. Especially let me know your best techniques for chasing people quietly out of the kitchen while the cake was baking, because I could use some of those...Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-6031048912876923962010-10-21T08:05:00.001-07:002010-10-21T08:05:58.278-07:00Just acknowledge that I let you in, or why I hate the morning drive - A Poem<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Just a little thank you is all it takes</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">A wave of the hand</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">A nod of the head</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Just a teeny respectful gesture</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">After all,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I might have saved you from</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">A damaging sideswipe</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">A horrific driver’s side crash</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">An overturned vehicle</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Or at the very least</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Being late for work</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Many of my other driving colleagues would not have been</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">So kind</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">As to leave a space for you</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">To sidle in</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Every second we move</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">We change our Fate</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I have just helped to change yours</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Would it hurt you to acknowledge it?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Next time</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">You might not see me</span></div>Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9222052758813132643.post-79306406235203476262010-10-18T12:16:00.000-07:002010-10-18T12:16:59.717-07:00The End of the Dishwasher<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">So my dishwasher finally shuffled off to that great appliance warehouse in the sky this weekend. And, as usual with my luck, it went right in the middle of the cycle, between “wash” and “rinse”, leaving my dishwasher full with mucky, obscured water.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Like anyone who has ever owned a dishwasher, even for a short period of time, I thought that this was the ultimate disaster. It was Sunday morning, I was gearing up to make French Toast and bacon for the kids, and we had no dishes left because I forgot to run the dishwasher the night before. It was already 9:30 AM and we had to be out of the house by 11. When you have 2 young kids, life is chaotic enough without having to deal with failing appliances.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">As I opened the lukewarm dishwasher, and started to fill the sinks with blasting hot-as-my-hands-can-take-it-without-gloves water, I heard daddy and the kids downstairs screaming with laughter at whatever it was they were doing. And I got pissed. Because I knew, as mom, I would have to end up doing everything myself, as usual.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Once I unloaded the bottom rack into the sink, I heard the thumping of family feet coming up the stairs. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“We’re off to have a bath,” said Daddy, guiding the (little bit stinky to be honest) girl child up the stairs.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">In the millisecond between the end of his statement and the next footfall on the stairs, a brainstorm crashed through to my eyeballs and came out of my mouth in the form of:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“WAIT!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">The house stopped. Here was my chance.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Can you guys please come and help me dry these, since the dishwasher is dead?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Daddy, being the helpful guy that he is, said, “Sure. I’ll just take her upstairs, and…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“No,” I continued, my brilliant idea illuminating my face, “I mean the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">both</i> of you.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Oh, sure,” said Daddy, in one of those parental mind-meld moments. He guided the (little bit stinky) girl child into the kitchen, and handed her a dish towel.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">She looked at us as if we had given her a piece of chalk and asked her to illustrate the theory of travelling at the speed of light in less than 30 seconds. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I handed her a metal bowl, “You’ve never dried a dish before, have you?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">She shook her head. (She'll be 7 in January.) </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Well, it’s like when you dry your skin, except the water doesn’t come off as easily. So wipe this til you don’t see any more water, then put it in the cupboard where it goes.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">And for the next 20 minutes, I rinsed; they wiped. Then I wiped. And as we wiped together, I explained to the girl child that, “When Daddy and I were your age, we didn’t have dishwashers. We used to do dishes by hand, like this. And the whole family would have to pitch in and help put the dishes away.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“This is fun!” the girl child explained, with all sincerity. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">As I looked at my kitchen clock, I noticed that only 20 minutes had lapsed. We still had plenty of time for brunch, and a bath before we had to leave. And we had spent real quality time together. It’s funny how all of these appliances have come into our homes to make our lives simpler to give us “family time”, and yet, they seem to divide us further. The dishwasher would only run at night; it’s loud so we can’t talk over it, and we end up going downstairs to stare at the Idiot Box. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">The only thing the dishwasher really gave me is more counterspace. Is that a substitute for family time? Not really. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Washing dishes together had us talking, was teaching the children how to handle breakable dishes when wet, and also, teaching that all-important “tidy up” lesson. That’s probably why they still teach dishwashing and linen washing at classic Montessori schools…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Never mind it saves electricity, water, and your dishes actually get clean, instead of having food particles melded to them by a hot dryer that never scrape off.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">That being said, you’d think I’d never want another dishwasher again. You’d be wrong about that. After all, I don’t want to spend the time after a dinner party standing over the sink, washing dishes while everyone else gets to have a good time. But maybe we might not use the new one as often. Maybe. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075374923828296256noreply@blogger.com0