FFWD – Crab & Grapefruit Salad

March 30, 2012 ~ Teresa ~ 12 Comments

This is the time of year that I start getting excited about the upcoming growing season. In a few weeks, the Farmers’ Market will be moving back to its summer locations, one just a short walk away from my house. Last weekend, we got a load of soil for our garden beds and this weekend, we’re picking up some compost. I’m sketching out my square-foot gardening rotation for the vegetable beds and thinking about which herbs I’ll plant this year in containers.

One side effect of this excitement is that I have a harder time buying out-of-season vegetables and herbs from the store. This summer’s crop is so close, now. So, I didn’t buy fresh mint for this week’s recipe, but added some dried mint to the dressing, instead. I couldn’t find any ruby red grapefruit, either, so had to settle for a yellow-fleshed variety.

I went to our local fishmonger to pick up some real crab. It’s a little expensive, but it’s sustainable, delicious, and (unlike fake crab) gluten-free. This salad justified splurging a bit. Cucumber, grapefruit, orange pepper, and green onion complement the flavour of the crab, as does the olive oil-grapefruit dressing. I added a little cayenne to the dressing along with the mint.

I can’t decide if this salad is more reminiscent of country club fare or the sort of treat you might find on a beach holiday buffet table. Either way, it’s welcome on my plate.

You can find many other blogged descriptions of this week’s FFWD recipe here: Crab & Grapefruit Salad

FFWD – Cocoa Sablés

March 23, 2012May 4, 2014 ~ Teresa ~ 23 Comments

Something I’ve been appreciating now that I’ve been participating in French Fridays for the last year-and-a-half are the benefits of taking my time. Not that I always manage it. There have been many rushed dishes, quickly photographed so that I can get a post up in time for the deadline. But, when I do take my time, it’s worth it.

This is particularly true when it comes to butter doughs. What starts as a crumbly mess turns into something rich and pliable. The flavours develop, too, when you wait. Don’t get me wrong, I love baking things that you can turn out on a whim (like this week’s Irish soda bread over at Tuesdays with Dorie), but I have a growing appreciation for the recipes in which time is one of the ingredients.

These sablés are just that sort of thing. The night before the big bake-a-thon (bake-o-rama? bakestravaganza?) with my family, I made the dough for these cookies and rolled them, with difficulty, into logs. The dough was truly sandy and I was worried that I might overwork it while trying to get the logs to stay together. But after a night in the refrigerator, the dough was fine. Easy to cut and not crumbly at all, with a denseness that made me want to get them into the oven as soon as possible. Baked, they had a lovely crumb and a satisfying thickness. They’re pretty, too. A perfect vehicle for cocoa and chopped chocolate.

Life lessons aside, I’m more willing now to explore recipes that don’t provide immediate gratification. They’ve got their own rewards.

You can find many other blogged descriptions of this week’s FFWD recipe here: Cocoa Sablés

A Tuesday Afternoon

March 20, 2012 ~ Teresa ~ 7 Comments

I have a confession to make. I got so caught up in reading everyone’s posts at Tuesdays with Dorie that I forgot all about the post I was supposed to be writing here. So, today I present you with a few photos I took around the neighbourhood this afternoon, along with one I took a couple of weeks ago (and that I think is pretty cool).

This final one is of Ken Lum’s Monument for East Vancouver, from the back. I ran it through Instagram and really liked the result.

FFWD – Cheese Soufflé

March 16, 2012 ~ Teresa ~ 31 Comments

I spent yesterday with my mother and my nieces, baking and cooking all day long. We started with next week’s chocolate sablés, moved on to two sorts of Irish soda bread (which you’ll be able to read about here on Tuesday), then chicken stew, and finished with this week’s French Fridays recipe, cheese soufflé.

Soufflés make a meal into a command performance. No one bakes one without requiring everyone to be at the table and ready to witness its brief apotheosis. It comes back to Earth too quickly. It’s also usually the centrepiece of a meal, or at least a course. Yesterday, I flouted that a bit. We had a sort of Franco-Irish mash-up of a meal, with Irish-style chicken stew that had been made with the leftovers of Cognac chicken (a French Fridays catch up that I’ll post about some time soon), two sorts of Irish soda bread, and this soufflé. I used aged Irish cheddar (Cahill’s Irish Monastic) in place of Gruyère or Emmenthal, in consideration of the rest of the menu. It fit right in. We ended the meal with the sablés. I have to say it was one of the best takes on both sides of my heritage that my family’s ever attemped.

I’m also happy to finally be in on the secret of soufflés. They’re dead easy. As long as you are scrupulous about following the steps of the recipe, only the weather or a slammed oven door can let you (or it) down. Just make sure you have witnesses. They’ll love how it tastes, but it’s important that they’re awed by its height, too.

My nieces want to try a soufflé now. Of course, they’d like to make a chocolate one. I’m going to suggest this. A meeting between chocolate and tea sounds like another great combination.

You can find many other blogged descriptions of this week’s FFWD recipe here: Cheese Soufflé

Imperfection

March 13, 2012May 4, 2014 ~ Teresa ~ 6 Comments

I made apricot lekvar last week, in preparation for Tuesdays with Dorie‘s latest assignment. My nieces were baking rugelach and I wanted to give them a head start.

I used organic, unsulphured, dried apricots to make the lekvar, which gave it a brownish cast rather than the jarred sunlight look described in the recipe. The apricots themselves look dubious, with dark spots that could be misread as the signs of spoilage. If you dare to try them, though, the taste of apricot is as present as in the most pristine looking, treated variety.

The rugelach weren’t perfect, either. The girls rolled the rugelach up the length of the dough, rather than across, which gave them enormous rolls. When they sliced the cookies, what they ended up with could be described as rugelach pinwheels, the size of small cinnamon buns. Not exactly traditional. But, dredged in the nut-sugar-cinnamon topping, baked, and packed into a pretty tin, they were gorgeous. They were also a hit at the hockey game that night, when a big crowd of extended family, co-workers, and friends took over a couple of sections at the Giants game.

Perfection isn’t everything to me. Perhaps it should be, but I’m too often pleased with the serendipitous results my mistakes and experiments bring. I wouldn’t trade those rugelach pinwheels my nieces made for someone else’s correct version, though I’m certain they’ll roll them differently when they make them again. I’d also rather have my unprepossessing, organic version of lekvar than the most golden, conventional variety.

Perfection and imperfection can be a matter of perspective, after all. I also believe that it’s imperfection that leads us to new discoveries, spurs us to try harder, and keeps us from complacency. So here’s to experiments that don’t turn out as expected and mistakes with delicious results. We learn from them, stop to consider their implications, and continue.

FFWD – Saint-Germain-des-Prés Onion Biscuits

March 9, 2012 ~ Teresa ~ 15 Comments

I’ve made these biscuits three times this week. The first time, I followed the recipe exactly. The second, I replaced the milk with Greek yogurt and doubled the amount of baking powder (my niece actually did most of the work on this batch). The third time, I used gluten-free flour and added some minced garlic along with the onion.

As you’ve probably guessed, I enjoyed these biscuits. I’d forgotten how much I like the process of biscuit-making and it was a pleasure to rediscover that, especially when the results were so good. Most of the biscuits have been frozen, to be pulled out a few at a time. As much as I like biscuit-making, it’s lovely to be able to pull out just what you need at a moment’s notice.

These biscuits are bite-sized, so I had to improvise when looking for something to serve as a cutter. It turns out that one of the cups from a Japanese tea set I’ve got was the perfect size and sturdy enough to rap on the board, if the biscuit was a little reluctant to remove itself.

The second batch was my favourite version – the yogurt gives the biscuits a lovely texture and richness. The gluten-free version was a little disappointing, not in taste, but in texture. They were a bit sandy and I’m beginning to understand why some folks re-grind their gluten-free flours in a Vitamix, to make them finer. Perhaps I should have used only white rice flour mixed with a little potato starch and tapioca flour, rather than my usual all-purpose mix. Next time.

I have an all-day workshop tomorrow and I think I’ll get up early and bake another batch of Version Two. It’ll be a good start to the day for the group.

You can find many other blogged descriptions of this week’s FFWD recipe here: Saint-Germain-des-Prés Onion Biscuits

FFWD – Roasted Salmon and Lentils

March 2, 2012May 4, 2014 ~ Teresa ~ 10 Comments

Once again, I present you with a mediocre image, because we tend to eat dinner a bit late and I absolutely wanted to share this dish with Kevin. We love salmon and this simple roasted version is a wonderful complement for Dorie’s lentil recipe. I replaced a little of the chicken stock with 1/4 cup of white wine, just because its flavour goes so well with salmon. Next time, I’ll add a sprig of thyme to the lentils, too. This was an easy, bistro-style meal. I opted to discard the very soft onion, celery, and carrot that had helped to flavour the lentils and served this with steamed broccoli, instead.

This is the sort of meal I use as an example when folks ask me if it’s a hardship living with someone who cannot eat gluten. It’s hard to feel deprived when there are so many alternatives. Still, there are things Kevin misses. He just got Laura B. Russell’s The Gluten-Free Asian Kitchen from the library and I think we might have to put it on our To Buy list. There are recipes for gluten-free dumplings, tempura, and potstickers included in the book – all things he can’t have at restaurants. There’s such a wealth of gluten-free cookbooks and blogs available now and many of us are also picking up the skills to make our own conversions.

So, there’s no need to extend sympathy to me or to Kevin. We’re eating well. I hope your weekend’s full of good food, family, and friends, too.

You can find many other blogged descriptions of this week’s FFWD recipe here: Roasted Salmon and Lentils

Spring Snow(man)

February 29, 2012February 29, 2012 ~ Teresa ~ 2 Comments

Yesterday, I wrote about winter’s end. Last night it snowed. I’m not so self-centred that I believe I caused the snow by writing about spring, but I do find that winter always has a word or two to get in before spring truly takes over the conversation.

Happy Leap Day everyone and here’s hoping that winter has finished saying its piece soon where you live, too.

Vancouver’s Party Dress

February 28, 2012 ~ Teresa ~ 6 Comments

The snowdrops are blooming and the crocuses aren’t far behind. There’s a threat of snow in the forecast, but winter’s essentially over. Soon, the rest of the early flowers will emerge and my favourite season here will begin. Summers in Vancouver are lovely, but summer’s magic lies in seducing each place into taking on its form – summer is itself a place, anywhere and everywhere.

It’s only in spring that I become homesick for Vancouver when I’m away. The air becomes softer and a little warmer, the evergreens develop pale green tips, and there are green shoots and flowers everywhere. Then, the cherry blossoms, Vancouver’s crowning glory, transform streets across the city into ornamental gardens.

I’m itching to get into the garden, to dig compost into the beds, divide my vegetable patch into its square-foot allotments, and plan my planting schedule for the year. As many have said, spring is the season of hope for gardeners. I’m also looking forward to more long walks with the dog, looking for flower patches and enjoying the blossoms.

Now tell me, what’s your region’s season?

FFWD – Cheese-Topped Onion Soup

February 24, 2012May 4, 2014 ~ Teresa ~ 16 Comments

French onion soup resides at the intersection of elegance and comfort. When I was growing up, it was ubiquitous on the menus of fine dining and family style restaurants alike. For children, it provided a little danger and frustration, too – warnings about the temperature of the bowl and its contents, the long wait to avoid burning our tongues and ruining our enjoyment of the soup (as well as everything that came after).

Breaking through the crust of cheese and bread was the beginning of our pleasure, pushing that crust piece by piece under the broth part of the ritual, and eating the sopping bits our next task, by which time the broth was finally cool enough to eat. Slowly cooked onions were a sort of miracle to me, unable to tolerate the taste of raw and lightly cooked onions well into my teens. The sweet-savoury flavour of slow-cooked onions became one of my favourites.

I was lucky enough to have a mother who took the time to make French onion soup at home, without the aid of packaged soup mixes (those were for dip, after all). I’m still lucky – it was my mother who spent an afternoon cooking these onions down. I’d started the soup at her house, then realized I’d have to leave sooner than I’d expected. She put the partly-cooked onions into the freezer, then cooked them in time for my next visit. My role in the making of this soup was much easier than it should have been, just a matter of re-hydrating the onions in broth, toasting the bread and grating the cheese.

As a sort of compensation, I baked Kim Boyce‘s banana walnut cake for dessert. It made me feel I’d really contributed to the meal. After all, it’s the slow browning of the onions that carries the flavour of this soup. Deglazing the pan with wine deepens that flavour, rather than changing it. When you add the broth, the onions plump and lighten, lending their colour and flavour to the soup. Everything else is subordinate.

We skipped the spoonful of cognac in the bottom, without feeling we were missing anything. I can see myself adding the cognac when using the soup to begin a celebration meal, though. We stuck to the comfort end of this soup’s identity on this night, following it up with some pasta sauced with pesto I made last summer and oven-roasted vegetables.

You can find many other blogged descriptions of this week’s FFWD recipe here: Cheese-Topped Onion Soup