Lemon Tart

2011: The Year in Food

Yes, I'm aware 2 months of 2012 have already passed, so it might seem a bit late for a retrospective. But I don't think there's ever a statute of limitations on memories and a day like today seems to perfect day for looking back.

An original salad that never made the blog.

Looking back at 2011, I've eaten truffles in southern Oregon and Bone Marrow in London, and sampled the finest oysters from Northern France to Seattle, Washington. Back home I've eaten more of those ribs I long for, sticky and covered in bourbon and brown sugar and dry spice encrusted ones, oh so tender from hours of slow cooking all thanks to some kitchen savvy friends. I started my first vegetable garden and with my tiny plot of land enjoyed my first homegrown French Breakfast radish, and marveled at green beans eaten right off the plant, remembering my Gramma and the bushels of beans in her garden. I fell in love, once again, with Paris and its patisseries, markets and historic streets, and fully understood the passion so many have for that great city of London. My wine glass was full of Oregon Pinot Noir and simple Portuguese Vinho Verde (so underrated!), and my oven cranked out buttery Breton cakes and I finally mastered the Levain Bread I've been striving for all these years of baking bread. And these highlights too:

 

A Grand Dinner Party

Le Menu

My birthday falls 8 days after Christmas, which is not the ideal time of year to yearn for a big party. Everyone is just over their New Years hangovers and is already starting their January cleanse. I took matters into my own hands and threw myself a party. My Grand Dinner Party, as I termed it, included an intimate gathering of 8 and 9 courses cooked by myself and my hardworking sous chef, DG.

 

La Table

As "It's my party, and I'll "dine" if I want to...", I set the stage for my dream dinner party. I went old school, snail mailing  invitations, instilled a dress code, bought the loveliest linen napkins with blue silk embroidery, pretty handblown candle holders, brought out my Florence menu stationary and personally selected all the wine pairings. We dined past midnight. It was just as I had envisioned. My single greatest joy is feeding friends, especially in a special occasion kind of way. This evening was a memorable way to bring in the new year.

 

 Field Trips

Restaurant in Portland

We ventured to Portland and Seattle for food filled long weekends. 3 nights, 3 days and you'd be amazed the assortment of dining experiences we can pack in. In PDX we fell further in love with the cocktail, as this city can really mix it up, drinking in such establishments as Teardrop Lounge, surely a bartenders dream, and Clyde Common where I had my first wood aged cocktails, a revelation of a technique involving charred planks of wood, a mason jar, some booze and time.

 

In Seattle we finally dined at Canlis with the ghosts of Frank Sinatra and Fred Astaire. A mid century architecture dream overlooking Lake Union, a family business for over 50 years, this American fine dining superstar certainly comes with expectations, all of which were met. There are few places like this anywhere. A gem.

"Cake" for New Years

And...I'm back! I've cooked so much since I last shared something with you here and eaten even more. I've paid a visit to my new favourite place in the world, La Bretagne (or Brittany as is it known to the Anglophone world) where I fell head over heels in love (more on that later!). We ate our first "proper roast dinner" in a rediential neighborhood of London complete with dog under the table and a poster worthy wooden platter of beef and all the fixings (how sad I forgot my camera that day). More recently I cooked my first Porchetta, that dreamy Roman style pork roast covered in cracklin', as festive as it gets! And alongside a traditional bowl of broth filled with tiny handmade tortellini. A bowl of dreams I call it. I'm looking forward to 2012 and getting back into sharing my adventures with you.

But for now, lets deal the present task at hand - New Years Eve! I'm sharing one of my best kept secrets - Cake, en Francais!

I first discovered Cake Sale 4 years ago.  If I could figure Typepad you'd see an accent on the last "e", which changes things entirely. No this isn't cheap cake, but rather savoury cake. We were staying in a lovely B & B in the medieval village of Beynac in the Dordogne region. Jean Claude and Francoise Fleurie were the perfect hosts, and living my dream. Breakfasts and dinner we enjoyed there still remain memorable so many years later. Each morning a new dish and always a different cake, for breakfast! With my competent but limited French and her non existent English, we managed to strike up conversations about cooking, obviously her passion too. She spoke to me of the many regional foods that I had never enjoyed before such as Duck gizzard salad (turns out quite delicious), Vin de Noix, a sweet nutty dark aperitif and foie gras. When I told her of some of my own baking loves, she spoke of Cake and lent me a fantastic cookbook filled with savoury loaves.

Ju Jubes to Meat Candy : The Year in Food

Here's a look back at 2010 one more time, specifically how it relates to the food I ate. Here are the highlights.

Best Sweet: Cannelles, Ken's Artisan Bakery, Portland OR.

I remember my very first Cannelle vividly. It was our first time to Paris and the magic of the Patisserie windows were enchanting. We came across an old fashioned and well loved looking pastry filled window just around the corner from our hotel in the 15th, a line is often a good sign. I purchased  a couple mini cannelles and readiest myself for this new treat. My first bite was a revelation. Slightly crispy and deep caramel on the outside, then a resistant chew, leading to a heavenly moist, interior, custardy but open, with just the right amount of sweetness. The taste was that of flavours that magically transform when the simplest ingredients like eggs, milk, sugar and flour come together in a hot oven with just the right kind of pan. I was delighted. It was like nothing I'd had before, yet there was something familiar. Creme brulee baked, perhaps? Since then I've come across them once in awhile. But nothing would rival that Parisian Cannelle moment and for the most part I pass on them, like pain au chocolate and macarons, not able to withstand the infuriating emotions that erupt when my disappointment becomes unbareable. That was until Ken's Artisan Bakery in Portland, Oregon. While enjoying my obligatory orange flecked "Morning Bun" and Oregon Croissant (turns out they are better with blackberries!) my eyes caught sight of a plate of cannelles, of all things. It was as if a French soundtrack started to play. I can spot a worthy pastry from quite far away, a handy trick when confronted with too many options for this not too tiny tummy, and I could tell these were a must from their consistently deep coloured exterior and just the right amount of shine and texture on the surface, with just a tiny pool of cooled, melted butter in the indendation on top.  One bite into these caramelized, eggy, sweet little scalloped pastries screamed perfection, which is no small feat since these beauties are pure technique and just plain fiddly. While that first in Paris will always remain close to my heart, this cannelle was certain to hold its place in my Pastry Canon, holding its own with a Seattle Pain au Chocoalate and a Gerard Mulot Macaron.

 

Best Dinner at a Friends house: Meat Candy

While 2010 wasn't the first time I had this dish, it was a year I was fortunate to realize I had found my "death row meal". These Bourbon Glazed Ribs, originally adapted from a Nigella Lawson recipe, have become, whether she likes it or not, a specialty of my friend Ruth.  Plenty of smokey muscovado sugar and so much bourbon the oven door is blown open during cooking, make a sauce that  caramelizes into a sticky candy coated lollipop of pork, which is why I've coined it Meat Candy. Those finger bowls are a nice touch, but I don't remember using them much, since there's no way I'm washing away the sticky coating of bourbon, brown sugar and meat juices from these fingers with anything but my tongue! I recommend being vocal about your love for that special dish a friend makes. It gets you invited back! I've never made ribs in my life and don't plan on it. I have a friend who gives me the gift of these Meat Lollys enough times in the year. How lucky for me!

  Best pizza : Delfina, San Francisco and Delancey, Seattle

Coming from a city with a wasteland of exceptional wood fired pizza, a good piece of pie is always on my radar when travelling and our fall "foodcation" was full of credible options. Upon arrival into San Francisco we went straight to Pizzeria Delfina. There were very high expectations surrounding this lunch and it did not disappoint. Seated in a sidewalk table in the colourful Mission neighborhood, I literally gasped when this pizza arrived. The only thing thing missing was a spare stomach to try more of their unique pizzas, including one with broccoli raab and several options with housemade sausages. We had a vibrant pie covered in local, fresh cherry tomatoes, bursting open from the ovens heat and fresh ricotta cheese, the tomatoes adding acid and sweetness to the creamy, salty cheese. The lack of a traditional sauce let the pizza dough itself shine through, allowing a chewy, flavourful dough the chance to really be tasted. And all the beautiful charred bubbles were crackly crisp. The second one was one of the most interesting pizza I've ever had, covered in generous guaincale, unsmoked bacon, sliced torpedo onions, plenty of whole black peppercorns and a coating of cream. Think spaghetti carbonara on pizza. This really was my most memorable pizza experience and this place alone will get me back to San Francisco sooner than otherwise. And while I may complain that I can't get pizza like this at home, I'm glad because it makes it that much more special.

 Twice last year we had another memorable pizza experience at the much lauded and blogged over, Delancey, tucked away in a residential neighborhood of  Seattle. I had been following the progress of this opening all year and was quite excited to see what this highly anticipated newcomer to Seattle food scene would deliver. Brandon, the chef, had spent time across the US studying pizza and he obviously came away with quite the education. I was ready to cry with my first bite as DG and I ate in silence. The pizza being the only thing in the room. Plenty of charred bubbles, a dry, crispy crust, lots of cavernous chewy holes, restrained sauce and a simple menu of classics to show off the time and effort that have gone into creating a perfect pizza pie. A pizza bianca was the essence of simple and beautiful covered in excellent ricotta cheese and wild leeks, another tomato sauced version speckled with house made fennel sausage. So enraptured by this little spot we managed to plan our schedule to arrive in Seattle at opening to enjoy one last meal on our way home across the border. Bravo, Delancey. I am in awe of you attention to detail including your popsicles and fresh made chocolate chip cookies for dessert!

 

Strawberry Fields {not} Forever : Classic Strawberry Tarts

 

I love going to the source for my food. Heading out to the farm to buy produce you know has been harvested within hours of buying it, seeing the very plants that have produced it, and even being able to pick it yourself, are all ways of buying food that gives me some control over its quality. This whole "eat local" mantra that has amazingly seeped into mainstream culture, is based on this very idea. Living in a big city means I can't feasibly do this with each fruit crop, but strawberries grow well on Canada's West Coast and they are abundant down here. I feel passionate about supporting these farmers and in my own small way ensuring that I will be able to enjoy such fruits as strawberries. But let's not forgot the real reason for my trek to the farm : They taste amazing! And with a trunk full of berries I get to make these beautiful classic strawberry tarts until I almost get sick of them, although unfortunately the season is too short for any danger of that happening.

A simple strawberry tart is certainly my most anticipated seasonal dessert. Its the first real fruit experience of the growing season, and after eating apple, oranges, and frozen fruit for so long, these juicy, sun drenched red fruits are those of dreams. A simple strawberry tart is one of life's truly greatest desserts and few combinations properly celebrate this darling berry. The crust is a crisp, buttery, tart dough which is basically a butter cookie. Its crunch adding the necessary contrasting texture to the soft fruit and the vanilla flecked custard base it cradles. The stars of the party, needing not a drop of extra sugar, balance on top. You can eat a lot of these if you let yourself, I assure. And you can just as easily make these topped with  raspberries and then blueberries as they come into season, although I confess they will not be quite as beautiful. By then we'll be used to summer fruits abounding the produce stands and markets, so our early summer excitement will have become jaded. Its my theory that a fruit like a strawberry has so much affection for it not only because of its amazing taste, but because we know we can't have berries like these for very long. Strawberry fields are really NOT forever.
 
I neglected to take a photo of the historic bridge to Westham Island. This stunning photo of the 100 year old landmark is courtesy of Jerk with a Camera.

When mid June hits, you'll find me driving out to the small agricultural community of Westham Island, about a 30 minute drive from my home in Vancouver. This island is home to many family owned berry farms, a winery, and has a notable bird sanctuary.  As you head out to the island you'll see a large community of permanent houseboats on the water, which is one of the largest in Canada. The Island is connected by this charming wooden bridge that turns 100 years this year.

Upon entrance onto the island, just in case you were worried about who would protect you from, well, something, a large sign reminds you that it is protected by the local gun club. Good to know...I'll get my strawberries and be on my way, thanks!

Crab Bisque and My Crab Adventure

On the heals of another surprise Crab-load, I made a huge batch of crab bisque recently, when DG's brother sent down a bag of crabs caught just the day before. What better way to deal with a sac full of beautiful Dungeness Crab than a bubbly pot of creamy, seafood goodness! I was pleased to have this kind of problem, as I always am when its free! Considering I pay about $25 for a crab, that's "A" crab, I felt almost dirty opening up my industrial mayonnaise bucket turned ice chest, only to lose count of the number of crabs inside due to the sheer number of them! That dirty feeling was replaced by ravenous hunger and a need to crack them all open with a bucket of lemon butter and bottle of wine.

After combing the internet for a decent crab bisque recipe, I came across just one worthy recipe, which I've followed before with great success. The rest were far too complicated. I'm hoping this recipe will help a few of you with your problem of too many crabs. This makes a beautiful soup full of crab flavour that is just the right foil for fresh chunks of fresh picked crab meat, without loads of heavy cream. It's an impressive first course and can stand on its own for a weeknight meal. Best of all, despite its grandeur, this is one simple soup to make and really you just need to get your hands on just a couple crabs, not a sack-ful. Scroll down for the recipe!

While I tackled the heap of crabs in my sink in preparation for this soup, my hands numbing to the repetitive cracking and childlike messiness that endured, my thoughts easily wandered to catching our own last summer.  I always meant to chronicle it here, but was unimpressed by the photos I'd taken, and well you know how summer just sort of gets away from you with the combination of carefree laziness and cram-it-all-in-ness. We had this planned for about a year and it turns out that looking forward to the big Crab Fest meant that when it was finally here, all I cared about was getting them out of the water and into my stomach rather than obsessively photographing each moment! This is something I'm constantly struggling with as a blogger, the needs of my own before the needs of my reader. Or shall I say, the needs of my stomach. As I plucked through those crab shells though I couldn't help but remember that day and thought you might like to see a little of what its like to take to the ocean and grab dinner for yourself. I won't have the chance to revisit this experience again this summer but I'm already planning Crab Fest 2011! But until then...

The great adventure all began in Prince Rupert BC, on Northern BC's (that's Canada, BTW) coast. This is a big time fishing town and of course seafood is all around. Prince Rupert is a lovely town full of history and quaint beauty. I spent 4 years of my childhood there and remember crab sandwiches as more common than peanut butter and jelly. But the story of this small town is for another time. This day was only about one little thing - crab!

When undertaking a day trip such as this one, the right "spot" it essential. This is to be our home base for a few hours, a waiting room if you will, complete with fire pit, plenty of tiny crabs, sea snails and other marine life to entertain the younger members of the party, as well as me. I do love a good beach-comb!

 

 

 

In order to guarantee lunch, we had to give these little critters their "Death Row Meal", if you will. We got quickly to work setting up traps. Some tasty fish heads and other nasty bits are pretty tempting don't you think?

Traps? Check! Nasty bits? Check! All set to go!

Trofie al Pesto: Remembering The Cinque Terre

     

When I travel, one of my favourite souvenirs is food. Beyond the usual food products that I bring back, what I'm talking about today is food inspiration. Whether it be in the form of food products, recipes, flavour combinations or cooking styles, I love to come home with at least one new dish that takes me back to  places I've been. The dish above is one of those souvenirs.

Trofie al pesto is a dish of Liguria, the long narrow region along the topmost coast of Italy, stretching from the French border until the leg of the boot heads down. The capital is the bustling port city of Genova and the picturesque, quaint villages of the Cinque Terre are found here. I was lucky to have spent some time here in October and the moment we walked to the beachfront of Levanto I knew we had a problem. "Oh, no, 2 days, is so not going to be enough time here", I said to DG, full of wonder of the surroundings and a little bit of disappointment already setting in due to our limited time. But we made do, and somehow our limited time seemed enough.

This place messes up any travelers' momentum. After the bustling crowded art filled cities of Florence and Venice, this place was a dream, with little to do but hike, wander and lounge. Which we did to our hearts content, tickled at our luck upon arriving at the beginning of low season. A tiny area that two weeks earlier would have been bursting with tourists, was happily active with no crowds. With 30 degree weather, full sun, blue waters and so much sky around us...life was indeed beautiful!

Daring Bakers: French Macaroons

Lemon Raspberry Macarons

It's good to be back. Back at home. Back in my kitchen. Back with The Daring Bakers. I've been absent for awhile now, so when I was ready to get back to baking and blogging I was delighted to find out this months challenge was something that pulls at my heart simply due to what it makes me think of - Paris.

The 2009 October Daring Bakers’ challenge was brought to us by Ami S. She chose macarons from Claudia Fleming’s The Last Course: The Desserts of Gramercy Tavern as the challenge recipe.

French Macarons you see are a far cry from the Canadian version - those ubiquitous, sugary, coconut laden mountains that show up in coffee shops, church bazaars and cookie trays everywhere. Yet I have yet to meet anyone you actually enjoys them, although I think that is because so many of them out there are so bad. A future post perhaps - Macaroons rediscovered?

French Macaroons, or Macarons, are a different macaroon altogether. A meringue based cookie (sans coconut), light as air, is sandwiched between a filling of chocolate ganache, or buttercream, with endless variations from nutella to preserves. This creates a cookie that at first shatters on your teeth on contact, seemingly delicate and crackly, only to yield to a chewy interior layer followed by a creamy, flavour packed filling. 3 different textures, a single flavour or a mixture of contrasting flavours, makes these cookies a winner in my books. Not too sweet, delicate, but not too much, and oh so pretty make these a favourite tea cookie of mine. Of course they allow for so much creativity that it invites crazy combinations like green olive and olive oil, ketchup, matcha tea and everything in between.

Composed of a short ingredient list of egg whites, almond flour and sugar, they are a lot trickier than you would imagine. But then again a baguette is made up of the same number of ingredients and finding a good one is a lot more difficult than you would think should be. A challenge for those of us who like to bake, but also a gamble. Even if you've made dozens of these without thinking, most of them turning out near perfect, this is a cookie that eludes and sometimes just decides not to work out. So if you decide to tackle them, don't despair, it happens. Aging egg whites, grinding your own almond flour, sifting the almonds, letting the cookies air dry before baking. They come with a number of tricks and requirements. The good news is that once you get the hang of them, they are quick to make and even quicker to eat!

I began making these at home 4 years ago upon returning home from my first trip to Paris where they are as as common as the chocolate chip cookie or Nanaimo bar here. Back then a recipe for macarons was difficult to find, but I managed to find a couple and began baking (and selling) these little bits of Paris. These were cookies that inspired such smiles from people, especially fellow travelers and Francophiles. Reminders of beautiful times in the city of light. I was happy to bring that back for people and share something new for people who'd never heard of such a thing.

Now macarons have hit North American shores and I'm not sure if its for the better. I've seen them overpriced and stale at upscale gourmet grocers and just shake my head. Who would be so stupid to spend money on these? But apparently people do and I think I understand why. Food can often be as much about memory of time and place than the actual food itself. To me they have to taste good too, but to some people the purchase itself brings them back to happier times.  Recreating my little bit of a city I love is exciting and challenging.

They are also a huge trend internationally and you've likely come across them somewhere near or far from home. What started as a darling little cookie seen only in Paris or France, some people say, are the next trend threatening to derail the cupcake. I don't know about that, but when McDo's  (McDonalds) starts selling them, that's gotta mean its outgrown its humble roots. Although to be fare I can bet the Macarons at Mcdonalds in Paris are for certain going to be better than the sad ones at my local grocer.

Bonjour mes amis!

I left you last on my way to Italy, and come to you now directly from France, hence the language change. We have returned from 4 lovely weeks of a mixed bag of experiences and sites. Some small disappointments, some surprises, some familiar places, but all great. We are happy to be home with our Emma-dog, North American plumbing and inexpensive readily available Asian food, but will miss long lunches, beautiful romantic languages, Cote du Provence Rose, lack of sales tax and tipping culture and narrow, ancient European lanes. My report to come soon. 

Arrivederci!

As this is being posted, we are flyin' outta here, Italy bound. First stop, Venezia (Venice). This is our first trip to Italy and of course with anywhere that conjures up such romantic notions of place, I have high expectations for it as well as extreme curiosity for how its going to play out. As you know I have a rather undying love affair with La Belle France and it is hard to turn your back on your first love, but it feels right, Italy has been calling this year and I'm ready for Italian food, wine, art, history and people. I've been taking Italian classes this year and am hoping that some of that pays off in many ways.

Of course this means you won't be hearing from me in awhile. Since internet access for me will be spotty at best and I don't like to spend my escapist vacations running around from internet cafe to internet cafe, I'll be saving all the best for my arrival home.  I promise a more than adequate report. 

We'll be spending time in Venezia, Firenze, Toscana, Umbira and the Cinque Terre

What I excited about the most:

Getting lost in Venezia

Driving through windy Tuscan hills with roads flanked by Cypress trees

Eating fresh seafood in the Cinque Terre

The Markets, ah...the markets...everywhere!

Art in Firenze.

Eating late into the night.

Drinking beautiful wine

Long leisurely lunches.

After Italy, we'll be spending our last leg in a familiar spot, Antibes and the Cote d'Azur of France. It will be lovely to spend some time there again as it is familiar and lovely with so much to see, do and well, most importantly, eat! We have a very special lunch reservation and lots of exploring - old town Antibes, hill towns, Nice...

I look forward to sharing some of our experiences with you. Until then, enjoy harvest season and the beautiful days of September wherever you are.

Ci vediamo!

Ratatouille- August in a pan

 

Nothing says August to me like Ratatouille. A jumble of vegetables all at their peak in one dish. It's like Canada - a colourful melange of flavours, each ingredient still retaining their own personalities. Not sure if the French would agree, but that's how I like to think of it.

Ratatouille is a traditional vegetable dish of southern France. Using so many colourful vegetables, olive oil, bright tender herbs and garlic, this is a dish that easily conjures up the markets and landscape of that part of the world. My mind about this often dish was opened wide a couple of years ago when I was served it by gentile, Ann-Marie of Chateau Juvenal in Provence . The restored 19th century chateau setting, cicadas chirping in the night and of course the company all helped that Ratatouille taste better. After all a dish should taste better in the land it was born. But I knew there was more to it than that. After that glorious dish I came home with a new appreciation of this often mediocre side dish and a desire to recreate it at home.

At this time of year tables are bursting at the farmers markets with more fruits and vegetables than I can keep up with- everything in season at once. I  load up on these late summer beauties making double batches as often as I can, freezing some for dull November days.

Ratatouille is the ultimate make ahead dish. Its flavour and texture becomes infinitely better after a night's rest in the fridge. I'm fairly opinionated about that fact. And the versatility of Ratatouille is what makes it a great leftover dish. Straight up it's a wonderful side dish completing almost any meal from a roast chicken or grilled salmon, to a bowl of white beans. It can be mixed into pasta with a little olive oil, piled into a pastry case and topped with cheese for an impressive tart or used as an edible dish in which to bake eggs, my personal favourite. There are so many ways to use it, although that's if you have enough leftovers. I sneak spoonfuls straight from the fridge  a couple days later. It's better cold or at room temperature.

I've had my share of Ratatouille made from recipes that call for cooking all vegetables in succession, with a finally simmering. This produces a watery, overcooked, pale comparison of what it should and can be. If you loath Ratatouille, this is probably the version you've been exposed to. The secret to a great ratatouille, other than the obvious one of using great vegetables, is by cooking each vegetable separately and cooking just until tender. No final simmering is necessary, in fact its detrimental. A glaze made from the vegetable juices and a rest in the fridge will do all the marrying of flavours you need.