Dessert By Candy

Pleasant But Not Memorable

One can certainly do much worse in life than being described as pleasant enough, just not memorable. If I am a kid, I know that is not the kind of person I aspire to be. If I am a story, I want to be compelling enough that my audience remembers me. If I am a dish, is there a place in the world for me if I am merely pleasant but not memorable?

When I read the head notes for Minted Zucchini Tagliatelle with Cucumbers and Lemon in Dorie Greenspan’s Around My French Table, I had high hopes for this vegan dish. Praise was heaped upon this salad created by Frédérick Grasser-Hermé, someone who is anything but forgettable. I looked forward to a mind blowing taste experience like Greenspan promised.

Fusion Home Cooking

The joy of cooking for close family is that they understand. They understand that not every meal is spectacular. They understand that I experiment in the kitchen. They understand that a meal doesn’t necessarily need to impress. They understand that sometimes I throw random ingredients together and the result may be surprisingly scrumptious if we’re lucky.

Weekend is the time Little Brother and I share our family meals. Those are often busy days so preparing a meticulous supper over an afternoon is not the norm. Instead, I have an arbitrary challenge for myself to put food on the dinner table within an hour. This definitely calls for quick recipes using whatever ingredients I can easily reach. Welcome to the strange world of fusion home cooking.

Canning Double Fail

Being a regular canner jam maker for the last two years, you would think I’m deft at the whole water bath canning process. Yesterday I made a batch of preserved peaches in Amaretto spiked Tahitian vanilla syrup which ought to be rather simple. I thought so too until I had not one, but two glaring mishaps that left me scrambling. My butt was kicked mercilessly by these peaches.

I love freestone peaches. Just twisting the peaches open to pry out the pit is a satisfying experience much like popping bubble wrap. Early season varieties are typically clingstone and it’s not unusual that you find me quizzing the farmers when the freestone arrives. Can you believe it’s already the last few days of August? Pretty soon, even the freestone peaches will disappear until next year. It is hard not to feel a little sad even though I’m not a fan of oppressive summer heat. Preserving this last bit of summer was what I tried to do yesterday.

Dessert For Breakfast

 

Special occasion breakfast generally takes two different directions. It can be a cornucopia of savoury dishes with the spotlight on eggs and cured meat or a dessert loaded with all things creamy, sweet, and rich. My allegiance swings between the two depending on my cravings but savoury generally wins out.

I was not terribly thrilled about making Peach Melba for this week’s French Fridays with Dorie. The classic ice cream sundae with poached peaches and raspberry coulis is mighty luscious but I prefer my ice cream plain. Okay, a waffle cone is alright too with maraschino cherry but I draw the line there. So I naturally gravitated towards the breakfast potential of this dessert.

When Enough Is Enough

My infatuation with canning and preserving led me to many impulse purchases at the farmers market. Before I became a jam maker, I had plenty of self control even when I stood in front of a whole table loaded with perfectly ripe fruit. Common sense only allowed me to purchase as much as I could consume before the fruit go past their prime. Alas, knowledge of preserving opened a flood gate. In the last two years, I often found myself stress out over another batch of jam that absolutely must be cooked tonight. My pantry was an embarrassment of riches.

Some time last winter, I suddenly came to my senses and realized my wasteful ways. Obviously the food was not wasted, per se. The jam, jelly, sauce, and butter were heartily enjoyed in frigid winter days when summer was but a memory. But the truth is, between Little Brother and I, we have no reason to eat over three dozen jars of preserves. Many of my jars went to friends and it made me very happy to see that they loved what I made. However, the ugly truth is this is a form of hoarding.

Multicultural Day

Bake sale is not part of my school years memories. I started my North American education at the age of 12 and the academic focus put such frivolities behind in elementary school. However, fun in the name of learning was not entirely out of the question and it happened in the form of Multicultural Day. Canada’s official position on multiculturalism trickled down to school curriculum. In those days before hyper awareness of food allergies became part of our lives, the centrepiece of Multicultural Day was a homeroom potluck lunch with every student bringing a dish best representing his/her ethnic background. My school was situated in a culturally diverse neighbourhood in Toronto so the potluck lunch was an occasion I highly anticipated.

Back in those days, I was just getting started on baking in home economics class and my cooking skills were limited to cooking rice. I remember once Mom made the tremendous effort to sent me off to school with sweet and sour spareribs because she figured it would be appreciated by mainstream North American palates. The dish involved breading and deep frying bite-size spareribs before tossing them with pineapples and bell peppers in bright red sauce. Well, deep frying was just not done at our home because Mom hated the lingering greasy smell. As you can imagine, it was a huge deal that she went through all that trouble, just so that I would not be the kid with a plate of untouched food.

These days, an invitation to contribute a dish is still a huge deal to me. I was really excited when a friend invited me to her home for casual dinner last weekend. I knew that she would have a feast prepared for us (perks of being friends with the food-obsessed) so I wanted to make something low key. After all, it is not polite to upstage the hostess. A quick glance at her menu suggested that there were room for an extra dessert so that was what I made. On second thought, is there ever an occasion which an extra dessert is not appropriate?

When Salad Becomes Sandwich

One question I ask myself often these days is what can I make into sandwiches. I must have entered a non-intellectual phase of life. Buy hey, at least I get to eat well on the go! Grated carrot salad is a French cafe staple and I make it often enough, even in a previous French Fridays with Dorie post. It is the feature recipe this week so it’s only appropriate that I give it more creative considerations. Obviously I can jazz up the salad with unusual add-ins outside of the suggested raisins, walnuts, and parsley. Or I can toss it in a signature secret vinaigrette. I did neither. I made the salad as written and took it from there.

 

I love the combination of carrot and caraway. That magical pairing came together in Dan Lepard’s black bread which I made a while ago. It was unforgettable. When the thought of turning the humble grated carrot salad into sandwich entered my mind, I reached for a loaf of caraway-scented pumpernickel bread. The question remained: how to pack the loose bits of carrots into a sandwich sensibly?

Ooo A Deal!

Not being a CSA (community shared agriculture) subscriber this summer greatly changes the way I grocery shop. I continue to shop regularly at farmer’s markets but I also develop a habit of weekly visit to Whole Foods. The nickname Whole Paycheque is not without reason especially if one takes advantage of their prepared food department. Fortunately, my preference for home cooking means my purchases are mostly limited to vegetable, fruit, dairy, meat, and fish. If you know your prices and wisely avoid the overpriced items, it is not necessarily the money pit it may appear at first glance.

It’s funny how my eating habit is so driven by my shopping habit. The Whole Foods weekly sales flyer comes out every Wednesday and they usually have special three-day sales running Friday to Sunday. Every once in a while, there are door-crasher special Friday one day sale. What does it all mean? It means I can usually buy MSC-certified fish and good quality meat at reasonable price on weekends. For this reason, I eat meat or fish on weekends and maintain a vegetarian diet on weekdays.

Last weekend was a perfect illustration of this change in my eating habit. I’ve been taking full advantage of the wild caught salmon this year and immensely enjoy sockeye to coho to keta as the season progresses. At regular price, it would be a splurge purchase but it is so much cheaper to eat food that are in season! I bought a gorgeous glistening piece of keta salmon so I planned a whole meal around it for Sunday dinner.

Appointment-Free

I am in disbelief that I no longer have outstanding appointments with any physicians or therapists. The last six weeks I accumulated a whole drawer full of medical bills and a calendar circled with scheduled visits. I am trying to ease my life back into the daily grind of training. Discipline I have plenty but concern for relapsing concussion symptoms looms. Last weekend, I trained “too hard” and paid the price on Sunday. It was most unpleasant and alarming at the same time.

Chatter about the upcoming US elections is steadily growing louder. Just reading the discussions among my Facebook friends of various political leanings makes me realize the big chasm that exists. It used to be said that politics and religions should not be part of polite conversation. In cyberspace, few things are off-limit and it is almost voyeuristic to observe how my friends and acquaintances feel about such personal issues. Being one border crossing removed, I rarely jump into the fray. However, issues such as healthcare, women’s rights, gay marriage, and education strike a universal chord. Even as a casual observer I am becoming more aware how strongly I embrace my core values.

Guilty Indulgence

I am embarrassed to admit that I like shopping. My gender disposition ought to give me a free pass. However, as computer programmer and athlete, many of my girl friends turn up their noses at such traditional stereotypical activities. Shopping is for girly girls and we ought to engage in much more intellectual or athletic pursuits. Sorry girls, I love beautiful things and they don’t just land on my lap serendipitously.

The simple act of aimless browsing can be divisive and that is why I prefer to shop alone. I don’t necessarily have a specific item to look for but when I see something I particularly love, the discovery is akin to unearthing a treasure. Obviously I am highly interested in kitchenware and my recent find of Hello Kitty cake pan proved just that.

I spent last weekend in St Paul / Minneapolis. The reason for the visit was an inline skating race. Those who are keeping tabs on my concussion recovery, I skated. Despite missing six weeks of training, I crossed the finish line in very respectable time. I received a conditional clear all from my physician this week and the hard work of mounting a comeback has begun. Spending a long weekend at the Twin Cities gave me an opportunity to explore the little neighbourhoods that give the city its flavour. I found these etched beech wood mini spoons from local company Talisman Designs. I saw their cheeseboards and salad servers before but the diminutive size of these spoons (think ice cream spoons) with the little bird is absolutely adorable.