Happiness is shelling peas

Freshly shelled peas

A friend recently asked me if there was any exciting produce at the farmer's market lately.

"Well," I told her, "besides all the baby squash, there is the matter of fresh peas."
"But it's such a pain to shell them." she said flatly.
And then there was an awkward pause.

I mean, I love shelling peas.
Love it.

And if you get yourself in a kind of zen mode you can stand there, staring out the window, shelling till your fingernails turn green, and when you finally snap out of it you've got a bowl full of peas and even perhaps some new realization about your life or the universe or your next door neighbour.

The shelling of peas requires the ability to space out, and that is something that I am entirely good at.

So yes, I went home with fresh peas while my friend did not. The requisite spacing out occurred as I shelled them and then it came time to eat them. I dwaddled around for about an hour doing other things, all the while trying to decide what exactly I wanted to do with them. This can sometimes take a while. I don't like to rushing into these things because I hate to be disappointed. So, I had a chit chat with my mom on the phone, threw some laundry in the dryer, flipped through a magazine until finally I had it.
Seared chicken breast with pesto and fresh peas-- completely inspired by the presence of peas on my counter and fresh basil pesto in my fridge.


Seared chicken breast with pesto and fresh peas


It's nothing fancy, but it sure made me happy. They say that basil is a mood lifter and I swear it's true. One bite of some fresh pesto and I make that Nigella face, the one that in some circles might be considered a bit over the top, maybe even obscene, especially when she adds the finger licking.
But I completely understand where she's coming from, because between the pesto and the peas I was pretty much on cloud nine.



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How I made it

The peas were blanched in boiling water for a minute or two until desired tenderness, then drained and rinsed in cold water. The chicken was seared in a pan (with olive oil) and cut into strips/wedges when done. Combine the peas with the chicken in a bowl and toss with some fresh basil pesto-- as much or as little as your heart desires.
Easy peasy.
Pun intended.

*note, this recipe is especially easy if you happen to have pesto in your fridge. If not, you have no choice but to dig up your favourite recipe and get to it.


Variations:
This dish would also be good with some pasta shells in the mix.
Or try some crumbled feta on top.
It might even be great with a mint pesto, if you happen to like mint enough, which I do.

Pattypan!

Ontario grown pattypan squash and baby zucchini


Tomorrow is July 1st, Canada Day, and for the first time in 4 years I am actually at home, in Canada, for the holiday.

In honour of the occasion, I made a trip to the farmer's market and brought home some locally grown produce. In my 4 years abroad I rarely came across pattypan squash so when I spotted it at the market I have to admit I was pretty excited. For one thing, the word "pattypan" is particularly fun to say, but they're also pretty darn cute to look at.

Now, I'm worried that you're going to read this and think that I make the most boring salads. Well what's a girl to do. I like to keep my relationship with vegetables as uncomplicated as possible.

And yes I did notice that lately all my vegetables seem to be topped with some sort of cheese. I never said I was perfect.

This is the simplest salad to put together: nothing more than sliced baby squash which are blanched for no more than a minute in boiling salted water. They are then drained, dried off on a clean kitchen towel then dressed with olive oil and white wine vinegar and finally topped with goat cheese* and slivers of mint. It's not unlike a salad I talked about 2 years ago so it seems I'm still a fan of the zucchini and mint combo.

It's a perfect summer salad, great with some crusty bread and some homemade white wine sangria in a big jug in the middle of the table. I'll tell you about that soon, but in the meantime, eat your veggies and have a happy Canada day.






* I used goat milk feta
**This salad is completely inspired by a recipe in: "Best of Taste Cookbook by Williams Sonoma"

Beer and Chocolate. You just can't go wrong.

Chocolate Guinness Cake by Tish Boyle

I have had this recipe bookmarked since..
Well since forever.
I finally got to it this past weekend and let me tell you: what with that Guinness in there it was pretty fun to make.
And to serve.
The general discussion around the table went something like this:
"Chocolate and Guinness?"
"As in the beer?"
"In a cake?"

And there was me, proud as a peacock, pretending like I make unique and fabulous cakes all the time.
(In an alternate reality, that one where I have my own private jet, I actually do make fabulous cakes all the time)

The cake was moist and flavourful, with just a hint of cinnamon, and the best part of all was that it wasn't overly sweet. Admittedly, we all decided that it shouldn't be eaten solo--it needs ice cream or even some crème anglaise alongside in order to make it shine. It would be kind of like making a really fabulous yellow cake but eating it just plain. It's still a great cake, but it's even better with some icing, right?
Maybe even a little caramel sauce would have done the trick on this one.

In any case, the cake was a hit and the leftovers were safely left behind at my brother's....
Damn.
Why do I always do that?



Chocolate Guinness Cake. Those nubbins in there are pecans..


Click here for the recipe for Chocolate Guinness Cake

*I used Valrhona cocoa powder in this recipe
*and yes I will make this cake again

Dama Bianca. Indeed.

Fennel and Celery Salad, it's better than you think

Ok, enough with the cookies, right? Although, G and I are booked in for 2 more barbecues this weekend and I have a Chocolate Guinness Cake in mind to bring to one of them. That is if it even makes it out of the house. Does that thing not look dangerously good? It's not at all light and summery but it's supposed to rain all weekend so I think it might do just fine.

In the meantime, this girl has not forgotten her love of all things green. Even those that are so pale they are practically white.
Put your sunglasses on now if you must.
I tell you, they don't call this dish Dama Bianca for nothing.

I know fennel is not the most popular vegetable, and even I have to admit that prior to making this salad my love for fennel was somewhat conditional. I love it roasted, sauteed, and baked, but eating it raw was just not something I did.

But I try to be an open minded gal. And I had the most perfect bulb of fennel just begging to be appreciated in all it's raw glory, so I figured it was time to give it a shot.

I didn't have buffalo mozzarella on hand as the recipe calls for, so I used some ricotta salata, which is almost like feta cheese. With a simple lemon vinaigrette this salad made me quite happy, and definitely made up for all those cookies I've been indulging in lately.

I always determine the success of a recipe by whether or not I think I will make it again to serve to guests and yes, I do believe I know a few people who will enjoy this as much as I did.

I might switch up the cheese in the future, but the base salad worked well for me. It was fresh and light and the fennel, though raw, was made quite mild by the vinaigrette and by being thinly sliced.
Perhaps that was the key I've been missing all along.

And actually, I think you could even toss some white beans into the mix to to make the dish a bit heartier.
Or sliced white new potatoes.
Or even some white rice.
Or make a chicken salad out of it, and throw it in a wrap...

Oh be still my heart.
You gotta love a recipe like that.


**********
Fennel and Celery Salad (Dama Bianca) from Epicurious
note: I only cut up as much fennel and celery as I felt like eating and then reduced the vinaigrette by roughly 1/3rd. It's an easy recipe to adjust to your appetite.


Yes, I did eat the whole thing but I stopped to take a picture
halfway through because the cheese looked better crumbled.
Am I right?

More cookies. Chocolatey ones.

Chocolate Crinkle Cookies

There was no road trip this time to justify the baking of cookies, but there was a barbecue. I expected to wake up the morning of with some energy--a grocery list of stuff and ideas in my head of what I was going to bring.
But alas, that was not the case. Instead I woke up feeling like I just wanted a slow and easy morning and a hot cup of coffee to go with it. A trip to the grocery store was the last thing I was in the mood for.
Thank god for a well stocked pantry.
I showed up at that barbecue with a salad made of fregola sarda (Italian couscous) and some Chocolate Crinkle Cookies.

I don't bake as often as some do, so I'm always a little wary to try out a new recipe when I'm intending to actually feed other people with it. But these did not disappoint in the least.
The batter worried me at first because it felt much drier than what I'm used to. It became something like damp sand and I expect that if you overmix the batter the cookies will come out drier and crumblier. By some stroke of luck I managed to get it right and they turned out moist and almost fudgy. That part surprised me since the recipe calls only for cocoa powder*, no actual chocolate. They were reminiscent of a brownie, without the sometimes aching sweetness that comes with a brownie.

In any case, it's definitely a recipe I'm going to make again.
Barbecue or no barbecue.



Wishing I had taken home some of the leftovers


Chocolate Crinkle Cookies from Williams-Sonoma

*I used Valrhona cocoa powder which is some fine, fine stuff.

In Defense of Recipes

Random Lunch: greens with goats cheese and pinenuts
and chickpeas with basil pesto

I've known two people in my life who have disagreed with my use of recipes. Both of them are relatives, and both are of the male persuasion and, it need not be said, but both deserve a swift kick in the backside.
The suggestion is that somehow I am less of a cook because I follow recipes.
I know, right? It's blasphemy.
In fact, I would happily challenge both of them to a duel in the kitchen starting with a spice rack showdown.
I've got spices that I'm sure they don't have and damn it, I know how to use them.

Nothing makes me happier than finding a recipe that I not only want to make again, but that is easy enough that I can wing it the next time. And soon enough, the technique, method or combination gets stuck in my head and becomes mine to improvise with. It's that point, the point where I don't need to follow the recipe anymore, that gives me freedom in the kitchen. The more I am able to improvise, the less I am confined to a cookbook, and less frequently do I stand in front of the fridge or the pantry not knowing what to make.

Of course, the quest is never ending. There are millions of recipes out there and only so much time to cook them. And sometimes you get yourself all geared up to try a new one only to find that you're out of baking soda or that your sour cream has gone moldy. And when a recipe goes wrong altogether, oy, that can have devastating consequences. Although temper tantrums are rare, I did once throw an innocent spoon at the wall in protest of a most craptacular recipe.

But this is our curse, right? The curse of the person who loves to cook, and who loves to see the reaction on people's faces when they try something we've made.
Gad. How I love to feed people.
What is that all about anyway.

Elsa Schiaparelli apparently once said: "A good cook is like a sorceress who dispenses happiness."
I like that.
Don't you?



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Just a few of the online recipes I've made (and enjoyed) this month:

Chicken Enchiladas with Tomatillo Sauce
Banana Chocolate Chip Muffins
Marinated Zucchini and Green Bean Salad
Japanese-Style Fried Brown Rice
Sushi Bowl
Scallops with Tarragon Cream

A road trip and the easiest cookies ever

Flourless peanut butter cookies

G and I are heading to Montreal this afternoon and there's nothing I like more than a road trip.
It's about a 6 hour drive from Toronto to Montreal---not so long that you dread it, but long enough to justify packing some road trip food.
I've stocked up on water, apples, junk food (I won't pretend otherwise) and some Flourless Peanut Butter cookies. The recipe calls for the addition of chocolate chips, but as you can tell I opted to leave them out.
Just this time though.
Because I love me some peanut butter and chocolate.
And let me tell you that I have never put together a batch of cookies so quickly and with such little mess to clean up afterwards. Five simple ingredients (6 with the chocolate chips) and you're good to go.
So satisfying.
They're peanutty without being overly rich and they're perfectly moist despite the complete lack of butter.
It's like magic.


So, I've got cookies in hand, the GPS is in it's place on the dashboard and the Ipod is fully loaded. I'm ready to hit the road.

See you in a few days.



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Flourless Peanut Butter and Chocolate Chip cookies from Epicurious
If you've got a perfect peanut butter cookie recipe already, that's great. But I am always happy to find recipes that give good results for minimal effort. This is the kind of recipe you keep on hand in case of emergency. Sometimes an impending road trip (or a cookie craving) just doesn't want to wait for the butter to come to room temperature.
If you know what I mean.

Time passes but there are still noodles

I could eat these everyday

I may not be so good with posting lately but people, I am still cooking and I am definitely still eating. So what's the deal? Well sometimes a girl just goes through phases. After 3 years writing this blog I guess you just have to go with the flow a little bit. What surprised me most was how often G kept nudging me with the constant question "Did you post today?". Until he finally just up and said "I miss your blog."
If that doesn't surprise a girl, I don't know what will.

So I figured it was time to get my butt in gear. Thankfully I had this picture I had taken of some peanuty noodles that I seem to make on a regular basis these days. I give all the credit to Heidi--this recipe is so easy to throw together and is now on constant rotation in our household. The beauty of it is that you can adapt it with whatever leftover vegetables you have in the fridge--and you can throw in some tofu or chicken or whatever strikes you. Of course, hers looks much prettier than mine but my tastebuds were quite content. And G lapped up a good 3 bowls full the first time that I made it for him. This is the man who instead of admitting that he is a picky eater declares himself a "supertaster". (insert eye roll here)

So listen. Without much fanfare the 3 year anniversary of my blog went by. Three years! In that time I have posted from apartments in 4 countries. I certainly don't feel like the same person I was when I started this blog and I keep thinking that I need this blog to catch up with me a little bit. It served it's purpose as a bit of a food/travelogue and a way to keep in touch with family and friends back home but now that I am back in Canada it needs to serve a new purpose in my life. Perhaps I've ignored it a bit these last few weeks because I'm still working out it's identity crisis.
But I think I've got it figured out now people.
And it won't be so long until the next post. I promise.

Until then, you've got some noodles to make.



*******************
Heidi's noodle recipe

I baked it myself

Soda Bread from Alice Waters The Art of Simple Food

It's not the best idea to stay up until 3 in the morning listening to music with a friend when you've got another friend coming by for Sunday morning breakfast at 10. You set the alarm for 8 and in a sleepy daze you set about making pancake batter and then you remember that your breakfast guest is a vegetarian so you put the bacon back in the fridge with a mild sense of regret and longing. If anything can put a spring back in your step it's the smell of bacon in the morning.
And then you start questioning whether she'll even be in the mood for pancakes, maybe she'll just want toast and eggs. Or yogurt and fruit. And then you realize you are a bit of an obsessive host and that maybe you should just sit down for a minute and have a cup of coffee.

I'm not sure what logic went through my mind when I decided that it would be too much work to walk to the shop to get bread for breakfast (which is a mere 2 blocks away) and opted instead to bake a loaf at home to save myself the trip.

But I tell you, Alice Waters' soda bread is really that kind of bread. It's so easy to throw together that by the time I would have walked the 2 blocks to the shop the loaf would have already been in the oven. Since it uses baking soda instead of yeast, there's no waiting for it to rise, and there's just enough kneading to make you feel accomplished.

It looks nice, don't you think? It's got a dense and chewy crumb and a nice crunchy crust. Top it with a little jam with the longest name ever (Red Lavender Strawberry Merlot Jam) and you can't go wrong. Sure, compared to a yeasted bread it is a little soft on flavour, but it's quick and easy and homemade, which makes it taste awfully good to me.

Because I don't want to mess with the goddess that is Alice Waters, I will not post her recipe. Instead I will direct you to a website where someone has already gone to the trouble of posting it. So click below for the recipe.

Alice Waters' Soda Bread
from the Art of Simple Food

Cakes and boxes.

The cake before, looking very unglamorous. The cake after, looking only slightly less so.

So let's get this part out of the way first: I am officially done with my detox. It was 21 days of virtuous eating with G counting down the days until I could join him for a beer at the local pub again. But I did finish just in time for his birthday because well, I'm not cruel. There can be no teetotalling on the man's birthday. And boy it was some night-- a blur of drinks, food and music, with one of our guests passed out on the couch in a sitting up position with his wine glass gripped firmly in his hand. We could not even pry it from his fingers.
The sign of a good night.

The most frustrating part of the evening was this damn birthday cake that seemed to take more than a week to put together. I tested recipes that just seemed to keep failing until finally out of desperation I settled on a plain old yellow cake with a buttery vanilla frosting. I stacked it 3 layers high which was a bit show-offy, but I was hoping that would divert attention from the little butter nubbins that were visible in the icing. But after a few drinks this cake earned great reviews --probably more than it really deserved. The fact is, I am a complete amateur when it comes to cakes. G, in the past, has been forced to blow out his birthday candles on bakery bought cakes.
Poor fella.
So hard done by, right?

In other news, our shipment from the UK finally arrived yesterday.
Yesterday!
After 10 long weeks!
The first thing I did once I managed to find the right box, was unpack the tea pot, and my Mariage Frères teas and got to work on having a cuppa.
And oh it was good.
So our apartment is again drowned in boxes and it feels a bit strange. All these things from our life in Europe suddenly here, in Toronto. I like it. It doesn't feel so much like we left the adventure behind anymore. It's part of our everyday life now, albeit in small ways. And strangely, getting all our stuff back makes it feel like we are finally really here. We've got a full apartment and it's time to settle in.
Let this be the last of the cardboard boxes for a long, long time.
I mean it.

Glowy.

brown rice pasta with fresh basil pesto and kale
So much better than it sounds.. really..


Two weeks and counting people. Today officially marks day 15, I've only got 6 days to go. But let's set things straight: I haven't been a complete angel this whole time. There was that batch of cookies I brought over to a friend recently and at least one of them had to be tested by me for quality assurance. Oh those chocolate chips! Sweet, sweet paradise.

But this darn detox has been much easier than I expected it to be. I never thought I would say it but I think I actually prefer brown rice pasta to the regular stuff. It seems to have a better al dente quality, if you're into that sort of thing. And since I do have a tendency to get hooked on a particular ingredient for stretches at a time, my sudden addiction to kale can't be too much of a surprise.
I'm telling you, that kale. Is it possible to eat too much?
I can't seem to get enough of it. I just want to snuggle up to it at night and read it bedtime stories. In the summer I want to plant a garden and fill it with just kale.
That is how much I love it.

My efforts seem to have been rewarded with some welcome comments on the state of my skin this past week ranging from "luminous" to "hydrated".
I mean really. Luminous? If Gwyneth and I stood side by side, I just might out-glow her.

So what happens after day 21? I'm not sure. It doesn't seem quite right to celebrate a healthy liver and a clean system by mucking it all up again. So I think I'll just have to ease back into it slowly.
A hot cup of coffee might just be first on the list.

A little healthier than the day before

Since I made such a big spectacle of announcing that I was going to be detoxing I thought I should fill you in now that a few days has passed.
The good news is: I'm still alive and I have not turned the colour of spinach or carrots.
After several days of snacking on rice cakes I actually find myself satisfied by them and not wishing I could top them with cheese or potato chips or chocolate or a combination of all three.

However, I did feel a bit dorky when a friend invited me to come over for dinner later this week and I told her I'd have to bring my own food. Good thing she's known me since we were 12 years old and I can comfortably get away with that kind of thing. I certainly wasn't about to give her a list of what I can and can't eat and make her go to all sorts of extra trouble, right?
I mean really.
I'm detoxing, but it doesn't mean I have to be a pain in the ass.

The big shocker was that I actually made a batch of madeleines for another friend and I swear to you not a single crumb passed my lips. I just had to have faith that they turned out right and the word on the street was that everything was a-ok.

So, I'm feeling good. That headache that had me swearing like a sailor on the first day did not reappear. This detox plan doesn't feel at all like deprivation which is key, because I would be complaining so much more if it did.

I did have a minor conniption fit when I realized that soy sauce was not allowed, especially since I planned on eating all sorts of things that just taste better with soy sauce, like tofu and rice and sashimi. But because it often contains wheat or yeast or both, and are loaded with sodium, it is considered not particularly detox-friendly. It breaks my heart, it really does.

But the miracle that is the internet led me to this product which is made from just soybeans and purified water. The website makes it sound all test tube-y and strange, but the ingredients speak for themselves. I found it at my local health food store and am happy to report that it actually does the trick. It's much better than low sodium soy sauces which just taste like someone sucked the flavour right of out it and sold me a bottle of 'bland'. After my 21 days on this detox are up I'm definitely going to keep using it. But of course, I'll keep the Kikkoman on hand for when we have guests. Come on, I'm not crazy.


So, listen, I've got 16 days to go. I'm thinking it can only get easier, right?
I'll keep you posted.

Detoxing. Because I really am that fun.

I bet you are just dying to come over for lunch..


I think this whole flu and cold business has made me a little crazy. February has really sucked for G and I. We cancelled dates with friends and basically locked ourselves in our apartment 2 weekends in a row with nothing to entertain us but the sound of our own complaining. And I was the lucky one; G suffered far more than I.

I know I've said it enough, but our TV is still in the process of being shipped from the UK and nothing is worse than being sick and having no TV to take your mind off of the misery.

We spent one evening complaining about how bored we were before we finally broke out a deck of cards and set about trying to learn some old and obscure card game called Bezique. The instructions should include a forewarning that trying to learn it may make your brain melt. Trying to learn it while sick, may actually make your brain implode.

But I've had enough of this being sick business and have decided to take extreme measures in the form of a 21 day detox.
It hurts me just to write that. At the risk of stating the obvious, 21 days is 3 weeks.
For 3 weeks I am saying goodbye to red meat, cow's milk dairy, wheat, gluten, sugar, caffeine and alcohol and in their place I have stocked my cupboards with bread made of quinoa, brown rice pasta, tofu and all manner of things that probably won't have you running over to my house for lunch.

It's not all bad though. I mean, on what other occasion would I have turned my nose to a chewy golden baguette and opted for a dense, slightly orange coloured quinoa loaf? And I was surprised to discover that it doesn't taste all that bad. Top that with some detox-friendly pumpkin seed butter and I can feel my immune system getting stronger already.


My detox breakfast: quinoa bread with pumpkin seed butter

So yeah, I'm embracing the craziness and doing what needs to be done. I haven't had a good night's sleep in over 2 weeks, I seem to have a constantly sore throat and I just feel like I need a good reboot.

I started my detox this weekend and was feeling pretty enthusiastic about it. Except that I woke up on the next morning with a pounding headache.
Grr.

But then I remembered that it's all part of the detoxing--caffeine withdrawal and such. I guess no one ever said detoxing was fun. But the rough patch is only supposed to last a day or two so I'm banking on that.

So wish me luck. This may be a bumpy ride. But by the end of it, I should be as glowy as Gwyneth Paltrow. Or so they say.


Where's my baguette? Oh yeah, it's in my dreams.


The Optional Reading
********
If you're interested, here is the detox plan that I'm following. I'm basically eating wheat and gluten free breads, vegetables, soy products, legumes, yogurt, chicken, fish, turkey, brown rice and any grains or pasta products not made with wheat. And there are some exceptions to the rules.
They say no caffeine, but green tea is allowed. They say no gluten, but spelt bread is allowed because it apparently has minimal gluten. Sugar is not allowed, but honey is ok. etc. etc.

Of course, it's probably best if you read the book and get all the info on it and all the exceptions, but since this is going to occupy the next 21 days of my life I figured it might help to spell it out a little bit. I'm not recommending you do it, I'm just saying that I am. If you have a problem with the idea of detoxing in general, I recommend this website.


Me, Detoxing
My first day was fine. Although I seem to have gone heavy on the carbs, (oops) but a girl has to ease into it. I mean, I stuck to the rules so I get points for that, right?

Breakfast: green tea, 1 slice quinoa bread with pumpkin seed butter.
I bowl sheep's milk yogurt.

Lunch: spelt pita with hummous and salad greens, mint tea

Snack: brown rice crackers, celery sticks, some more green tea.

Dinner: Brown rice noodles with sheep's milk feta, olive oil and lemon dressing, cracked black pepper and a side of roasted french green beans.

And then a rather unsatisfying late evening snack of more brown rice crackers. Maybe by day 5 they'll start to taste like a treat. Let's hope.

A little weekend chit chat.

One of the first things G and I did when we moved back to Toronto was buy all the ingredients to make a Ceasar--it's the Canadian version of a Bloody Mary but 10 times better.
There I said it. Don't make me come over there.
I once walked into a bar in San Francisco, and as G made his way to the loo he overheard me ask the bartender for a Ceasar. My request was met with a look of confusion: "We don't serve salads here."
Sometimes I forget. Silly little Canadian.

*******
G and I have put in a good effort trying to decide which pub will be our "local". We were wooed when one night we walked into one in our neighbourhood called the Old Nick and were treated to a night of 80s music. We sat there nursing our beers while reliving our youth and trying to beat each other to 'naming that tune'.
The next time we went, it was all vintage Depeche Mode. Just saying vintage in the same sentence as Depeche Mode makes me feel really old.
But either way, it sure made for a fun evening.

*******
I haven't been cooking much these days. Our stuff has still not arrived from the UK so while you may imagine we are well settled in, we are actually functioning with the bare minimum in our apartment. This includes all my kitchen things including our knives, my spices and my beloved teas. People, we don't even have a couch. Just 2 chairs- one of which folds up, while the other is on loan from a friend. It's been 6 weeks, enough said.

BUT I did make a trip to the St. Lawrence Market recently and I gotta tell you, that place can sure put a spring in my step. I picked up some red lavender strawberry jam and a blood orange and cranberry marmalade. I mean really, I can easily be wooed by a good jam combo. That night, with all my other purchases, I made beef tenderloin with a rosemary port sauce, buttermilk mashed potatoes and roasted golden beets. It felt like the first real meal I had cooked in over a month. But it was worth it. It kind of felt like I was getting my groove back. It might be an 80s groove, but whatever gets your motor running, right?

*******
Cream of Wheat has featured prominently in our household this past 10 days. While G fought the flu (as bad a case of it as I've ever seen) it was about the only thing he would eat. Which is basically just like eating a big bowl of flour drowned in milk. And because my G has a sweet tooth the size of Texas, he would then empty the sugar bowl on top of it. It was the stuff of my nightmares, I could feel my jeans getting tighter just watching him eat it.


I like the old school box.


*******
In a weird twist of fate, my upstairs neighbour revealed that not only has she lived in both Paris and Heidelberg as I have, she was also working at the Smithsonian in Washington D.C. at the same time as I was volunteering there.
How unusual is that? It's kind of Twilight Zone-ish, but in a good way. Plus, when I invited her down for tea, she brought me an apple-berry crumble. This is what it means to love thy neighbour, I'll tell you what.

*******
So that's it, until next time.
I do like to ramble, huh.

Turning yogurty

Feeling scientific

I began to bore myself with all my talk of wanting to make my own yogurt. This isn't a recent obsession, I've been going on about this for years. You'd think I would have made it by now, patted myself on the back, and moved on.
I kept looking longingly at yogurt makers, which is stupid because they aren't really all that expensive. But I was worried that I would buy it only to have it spend the rest of its miserable life gathering dust and wasting valuable real estate in my cupboards. I even had a friend who encouraged me to do it the old school way, like her mother used to do it. They were encouraging words, and I felt genuine enthusiasm when she explained the process to me.
That was three years ago.
And then suddenly the other day I found myself in my kitchen sterilizing jars in my oven.
I was finally doing it: making my own yogurt.
After years of avoidance, it's a phenomenon I cannot explain.
But after a night of sitting out on my counter doing its thing, (turning yogurty in scientific terms) I dug my spoon in. And since I'm the only yogurt eater in my house, double dipping was definitely allowed.
It was silky and smooth and mild and HOMEMADE.
And that made it taste twice as good.
Now let's hope this sticks and that I don't find myself a year from now wondering why I only ever made homemade yogurt this one time. Because really, it was so damn easy, I don't think I've got any excuses anymore.


Homemade Yogurt
from issue 35 of the Donna Hay magazine
A candy thermometer is required!

Heat 1 litre of whole milk in a saucepan until it reaches 95c or 203F.
Then pour it into a sterilized glass jar and allow it to cool to 42c or 108F.
Stir in 1/4 cup of thick natural yogurt and seal the jar with a tight fitting lid.
Wrap the jar in a towel and leave at room temperature for 8-12 hours or until the yogurt is thickened.
Drain any excess liquid that gathers on the top of the yogurt before refrigerating.
The yogurt can be kept in the fridge for up to 2 weeks. It makes approximately 4 cups.

She suggests that clean jars can be sterilized by putting them in a preheated oven at 160c or 320F for about 10 minutes.

A good start.

Bottled organic milk and cheese bread
made with sea salt and extra old white cheddar

It's snowy outside, but warmer than it has been in days. The sun is shining and from the dining room window you can see that the front walk needs clearing. Shoveling is good exercise, and it's not so bad when two of you suit up to go tackle it together. You say hi to the neighbour who is doing the same thing. The three of you are grunting with the effort of it, but you feel a sense of solidarity. You see a car go by and for a moment it gets stuck, its wheels spinning in the road that has not yet been plowed.
A child and his parents walk by with toboggans on their way to the hill at the nearby park. His snowpants make that swishy sound as his little legs stumble through the snow.
Your hat falls down over your eyes and you push it back up. Again.
The walk is now cleared, the postman will be happy.
You head back into the warmth of your house, hungry for a snack.

Exploring.

Look ma, no snow..

This settling in thing is actually working out pretty well. G and I have (sort of) gotten over our habit of cursing the wind and cold and have even managed to catch some lingering glimpses of the sun now and then. While living in Britain we were dangerously close to suffering from a Vitamin D deficiency, so a little Toronto sunshine goes a long way to keeping us happy.

My to do list on the other hand, is getting mildly overwhelming. Four years is a long time to have been gone and when I left I was a just a pup really, with a lot less experience. Travelling around made an explorer out of me and suddenly Toronto seems like a completely different city than I remembered it. And as far as exploration goes, this is one city that is going to take some time.

I've always lived on the East side of Toronto, and only now after living in a series of relatively compact cities do I realize how massive Toronto actually is. Those friends and family that live on the East side are easy to meet up with on the spur of the moment, while it takes a lot more planning and organization to hook up with those on the West side.

And so now maybe you understand why my list of places to explore is getting a bit hard to manage. After just 3 weeks back in town I have barely even made it out of my own neighbourhood.

On the weekend an old friend of ours came by at a crazy early hour (a luxury only good friends can indulge in) before he had to go to work. I thought I had it well planned out: brunch at the Globe Bistro while we catch up. After a mad flurry of hats, scarves, mitts, boots and chapstick, we finally trekked over to the Globe Bistro only to find that they don't do brunch before 11am. With the snow and wind blowing in our faces we hightailed it to the nearest greasy spoon, otherwise known as the New York Café. We did manage to snag a table, but I think it was stroke of luck. The place was packed and I soon realized it may have something to do with the super cheap prices and the smiley staff. Our server was so darn friendly I wanted to put him in my pocket and take him home with me.

So listen: 2 eggs, bacon, toast, homefries and endless cups of coffee for $3.75.
That's Canadian dollars, people. I'm still in shock. I even kept the receipt as a souvenir and it now sits snuggly in a box next to the one from our first day in Paris when the 2 glasses of beer we ordered at a sidewalk café cost us 34 euros.
Merde, right? I know.

Anyway, it was no gourmet breakfast, but for $3.75 we were all pretty satisfied.

Aside from that, I still find myself strangely intrigued by that whole phenomenon that is the Big Carrot -that magical place where vegetarians, vegans and even meat-eaters with a conscience like to shop. I am neither vegan nor gluten intolerant but I can't help but be curious. G has been shaking his head at me as I come home with yet another gluten free muffin or cookie, and my most recent acquisition of vegan chocolate made with rice milk.

Me and my curiosity. Vegan chocolate and a gluten-free muffin.

I think he's afraid I'll start enforcing a new lifestyle and he doesn't seem to believe me when I tell him how surprisingly tasty all of these things have been.

But don't worry, I'm not reinventing myself here by any means. Maybe a girl just needs a reason to regularly indulge in muffins and cookies? It feels much less sinful when it's in the name of research, you know?


***********
New York Café
757 Broadview Avenue
Toronto, ON

Landed.

I gotta tell ya-- it's cold here in Toronto! I know I shouldn't complain, as yesterday was the first day I'd seen any real snow since we got here. That in itself is a miracle. But I had become so unaccustomed to temperatures below zero that the day after we arrived I had to go out and immediately buy two very cute hats, followed a few days later by a third one. With EAR FLAPS thank you very much.

So I've prepared myself for the reverse culture shock phenomenon but so far things are going smoothly. They tell you that everyone expects you to be the same as when you left, and that nobody wants to hear you constantly saying things like: "When I lived in Paris, or once there was this time in London, or in Germany we..." etc etc. So I'm taking it all in stride and making sure I have a hot cup of tea in hand at all freaking times. Oh and the hand lotion, because man, the air here is dry and when did I suddenly have the hands of an 80 year old woman?

The most shocking thing I have been forced to adjust to so far is the crazy serious recycling and garbage program this city has. I swear it's turned me into an environmentalist in a matter of only a few days.
They pick up your compost!
You can recycle pretty much everything!
And they will only pick your garbage up once every 2 weeks but yeah, it really doesn't matter because after all that recycling you hardly have anything to throw away anymore anyway. It's magic I tell you.

And my whole turning green thing is encouraged by the fact that I happen to live in a part of town known as Riverdale which is a very vegetarian, and health-conscious friendly area. Spelt pizza crust? Brown rice sushi? I swear people, I'll be wearing Birkenstocks and drinking wheatgrass for breakfast in no time.
I've already started taking yoga and had to do my first headstand yesterday evening. Imagine my surprise when I thought I was in a beginner's class and was told we'd be doing headstands. Ahem. By some miracle I actually managed to pull it off without making a total ass of myself but I must admit I was ready to roll up my mat and hightail it out of there as soon as I realized my mistake.
But I'm a sucker for punishment and you KNOW I'm going back there for more.

So that's the short and sweet of it. We're back home and so far everything is good.
I'll get back to regular posting once my fingers thaw out a bit. But as I now say, if you can't stand the cold, just buy some really cute hats.