I'm Off

I won't be posting for awhile. I'm taking my girls to England for a month to meet my family. My mom is already there, and we will be staying with my aunt. I'll be taking lots of pictures and posting when I can but I'm not making any promises. I'm not sure what my aunt's internet scene is over there but I'm sure I can find a hip (or nerdy) internet cafe to communicate with you all. I hear they have the internet on computers now in the UK.

It is said, mainly by my mom, that my aunt Sara makes the best pie crust in town. I've never been a huge pie lover until Jess started baking pies. I think he is the best pie maker this side of the Atlantic. My mom is always trying to set up a pie competition between him and my aunt, but neither of them seem particularly interested. Maybe my mom has a secret fantasy to be the best pie tasting judge of all time. Perhaps at her age she feels that dream will only be realized by forcing family members to compete in the kitchen. She'll only be satisfied until one person is left humiliated and crying on the kitchen floor amongst piles of second place pie dough. Or maybe my mom is just trying to make conversation by engaging people with a common interest. It's a toss up, I could believe either one.

That being said I will try and ply Aunt Sara's pie crust recipe from her. No forms of manipulation are below me, but I'm pretty sure she'll just tell me if I ask nicely. So look forward to pie and scones in blog future, and wish me all the best parenting luck when I fly solo with my three little girls. Gravol may be my new best friend.

Roasted Tomato and Corn Soup
from Bonnie Stern's Heart Smart

12 to 15 plum tomatoes, halved and seeded
2 onions, cut into 1/2 inch slices
3 ears of corn, husked
1 tbsp of olive oil
4 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
1 tbsp chipotle puree
4 cups chicken or vegetable stock
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
salt and pepper to taste
1/4 cup shredded fresh basil

Grill tomatoes and onions on BBQ until each side is soft and brown. Grill corn until browned turning to cook all sides. Remove and cut kernels off of corn and set aside. Heat oil on medium heat, add garlic and cook for a few minutes. Add chipotle and tomatoes, stir and cook until hot. Add stock and bring to a boil. Reduce and simmer for about 15 minutes. Puree soup, and return to heat. Add onions and corn and cook for 5 minutes. Add vinegar and season with salt and pepper. Garnish with basil and serve.

Bounty

I tend to cook too much food when I entertain. I'm not sure if it's because I think what I'm making will be irresistible or I think that it should be socially acceptable to overindulge whenever food is presented. I dream of cocktail parties where everyone receives their own round of melted brie so I don't have to share. The dream wouldn't be complete without my very own trough of seven layer of chip dip. Nothing taste better on a corn chip than a creamy mixture of beans, salsa, sour cream, and avocado. Obviously the other three ingredients are a national Mexican secret because I can't for the life of me figure out what they are.

Cooking too much food inevitably leaves me with leftovers and I hate throwing out food. I must have spent my past life in a post war environment because I can't stand wasting food even if it's a whole day old. I also love coming up with ways to make new dishes that don't look like their past lives. When we were living on the boat I made a kick ass brussel sprout sandwich. It tasted a lot better than it sounds.

I had family over the other night for my brother's 40th birthday party. I overestimated everyone's love of corn and was left with a bowl full. Below is a tasty alternative to cold corn on the cob.

Corny Soup

kernels from 6 cobs of cooked corn
1 tbsp of olive oil
1 onion, diced
1 sweet potato, diced
1 tsp chipotle pepper or to taste, minced
3 cups vegetable stock
1 cup of milk
1 tomato, diced
juice from 1 lime
handful of cilantro

Saute onion in heated saucepan. Once soften, add sweet potato and stock. Bring to a boil and then simmer 10 minutes or until sweet potato is cooked. Add corn and let cool enough to blend with a hand blender. Add milk, and reheat slowly. Add tomato, lime juice and cilantro. serve immediately.

unambivalent.

Recently, my husband and I got some good news.

We'd been waiting for it for months, and the waiting, and its attendant anxiety, had been tremendously difficult for us. Although we'd done everything we could to stay positive, we were coming to a bit of a breaking point when we got the word.

Of course I expected to be awash in relief - maybe not immediately, but within hours at least; but a day went by, then two, then three, and nothing.

I continued to feel anxious and ambivalent, labouring through my days as if there were a black cloud over my head, and mine alone.

I started questioning the nature of the news: was it not as good as we'd first thought? Was there some lurking underlying reason to hang on to the worry that had been plaguing us all this time?

And then I became disappointed in myself: had I lost the ability to embrace the good things in life - or welcome them, at the very least? Had I become one of those people who prefer living under the black cloud?

After several days of this kind of torturous myopic musing, my food processor broke.

For some reason, the untimely (and, with any luck, temporary) demise of this beloved appliance pushed me over the edge.

I have always been slightly embarrassed by my affection for my food processor, and I am more so now since my disproportionate reaction to its failure to thrive: I raged, pouted, craved smoothies night and day, and was generally impossible to be around.

But I'm happy to report that, in the days since that cathartic experience, all of my ambivalence towards the initial piece of good news has vanished.

I'm ready to welcome a little hope, and relieved that we are on our way forward after being mired in limbo for far too long.

And although I am devastated about my food processor, I am holding out for a quick and inexpensive repair job - in the meantime, I'll make do with the immersion blender of dubious origins that's languishing in the cupboard.


Glorious Soup

With thanks to my friend Catherine, who inspired me to make this after a long conversation about the glory of beets.

6 medium beets, quartered
4 tbsp olive oil
1 onion, finely chopped
2 sticks celery, finely chopped
1 medium carrot, finely chopped
1 tsp ground cardamom
1 tsp ground ginger
6c chicken stock
2 lime leaves or bay leaves (optional)
1c finely chopped fresh dill
1/2c coconut milk
1/2c sour cream
a few sprigs fresh dill, for garnish

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Toss beets with 2 tbsp olive oil and place in a shallow, ovenproof dish. Cover with foil and roast about an hour, until very tender.

Heat remaining 2 tbsp oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add onions and cook, stirring, until translucent. Add celery and carrot and continue to cook, stirring, a further 5 minutes or so. Add cardamom, ginger, and stock. Add lime leaves (or bay leaves), if using. Bring to a boil, cover, and reduce heat. Simmer until vegetables are tender, about 20 minutes.

Add beets to soup and use an immersion blender to puree until smooth. Blend in dill, then gently stir in coconut milk and sour cream.

Reheat just until hot - do not boil!

Serve garnished with more sour cream, if desired, and fresh dill sprigs.

conventions.

Like many aspects of our life, my family's weekday mealtime routine is a bit unconventional.

My husband works in the late afternoon and late into the evening, so breakfast is an extremely leisurely affair, involving baking, cocoa-drinking, story-reading, music-making, and, in good weather, a trip to the park or another outing of some kind to blow off some steam and get everyone stoked for lunch.

Lunch is the main meal of our day, and it happens in the early afternoon. The spouse who has not taken the kids out in the morning is usually the one who prepares the food, and once we've finished eating and cleaning up, and the kids and I have begun to shamble through the remainder of our day, my husband goes to work.

I relish our days together as a family, and I recognize that they are a luxury that not many families are able to enjoy, particularly in the fast-paced and expensive city where we live.

The corollary, that we worry about our finances perhaps a little more than some of our friends and neighbours, feels like a small price to pay for all of this time with our babies. They are growing at lightning speed, and soon enough (sooner than I care to acknowledge), the demands of a more conventional schedule will impose themselves.

The only slight drawback of our daily routine is that the evening meal my children and I have together tends to be a touch on the uninspired side: these days I rely heavily on French toast and cheese omelettes, roasted vegetables, and - more often than I care to admit - granola with applesauce.

This soup is one that is currently in heavy rotation on weeknights. It's not overly glamourous, but it covers all of the basics; and it's dead easy to make, which has its advantages at the time of day that every mother I know refers to affectionately as 'the witching hour.'

Day's End Alphabet Soup

I chop all of my vegetables in the food processor, and I aim for two cups of each. I always have carrots, onions, and celery on hand, which is why they are specified here, but I encourage you to be creative!

2 tbsp olive oil
2 medium onions, finely chopped
4-5 carrots, finely chopped
6-7 celery stalks, finely chopped
2 tsp cumin seeds, coarsely ground
1 tsp celery salt
6 c low sodium chicken broth
3/4 c alphabet noodles

In a large saucepan, heat oil over medium-high heat. Add onions and saute 5 minutes, then add remaining vegetables, cumin, and celery salt. Saute until veggies are tender. Add chicken broth and bring to a fast simmer. Add noodles and simmer 6-8 minutes, until noodles are cooked.

Makes easily a couple of dinners' worth.

...from now on

Ahh, this is promising weather indeed!

I don't care that there is more cloudy weather on the way - today I am basking in thoughts of tulips by the armful, fresh rhubarb, and my favourite ham recipe, that last hailing from one of my carefully-hoarded collection of Gourmet magazine back issues.

I have much to say on the subject of that ham, and today is far too nice a day to be proselytizing on its virtues - but stay tuned, because I intend to include it as part of this weekend's feasting and I will tell you all about it.

In the meantime, I thought I'd share this soup with you. I made it this past weekend and it did a great deal to restore my mood, which lately has been veering back and forth between glum and utterly uncheerful.

Its flavours are bright and bracing, the perfect tonic on a cloudy day, and it's also hearty enough that it kept us all going through a bit of a trying afternoon. Kept us going, and more importantly, looking forward - to nothing but blue skies, from now on.

Lentil Soup for a Cloudy Day

I kept the spice on the mild (family-friendly) side here, but you'd do well to ramp it up a bit if there are not small children dining in your midst.

1/4c olive oil
2 medium onions, chopped
2 medium russet potatoes, peeled and chopped
1/2 - 1 tsp red curry paste (or to taste)
2 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
2 tsp tumeric
1/2c red lentils, rinsed and drained
3c chicken stock
1 798ml can whole organic tomatoes
1c coconut milk
4 cooked sausages, sliced (I used curried chicken sausages from a local butcher)
fresh cilantro, for garnish

In a large soup pot, heat oil over medium-high heat. Add onions and potatoes and saute until onions are translucent. Add curry paste, garlic, and tumeric and cook, stirring, 2-3 more minutes. Add lentils, stock, and tomatoes. Bring to a boil, then cover and reduce heat. Simmer until potatoes and lentils are tender, about 20 minutes.

Puree soup in batches using a food processor; alternately, get out the old immersion blender (we have one that I'm pretty sure was given to my husband by an ex-girlfriend - oh, the scandal!) and blast the soup until smooth.

Return soup to the stove over medium heat. Add coconut milk and sausages and heat gently, stirring occasionally, until soup is piping hot and sausages are heated through.

Garnish with cilantro leaves and serve.

Serves 4 for lunch, with leftovers.

let's talk about expectations.

The lovely and romantic dinner I had envisioned for Valentine's Day didn't quite come together as planned: I bought all the makings for boeuf bourgignon, and in my fantasy it was going to bubble away contentedly on the stove, filling the house with good smells, while my beloved and I sat in front of the fire and ate cheese, drank wine, and - I don't know, talked?

Of course that's not what happened (I'm not sure how I managed to overlook our children when I concocted that fantasy). We did have a lovely day, replete with chocolate (and chocolate-y) kisses, as wonderful and romantic as a Sunday in February with two tiny children can be; but by about three o'clock that afternoon, I realized that the boeuf bourgignon was never going to happen.

And I'm a little embarrassed to admit this, but I was quite disappointed for a moment. I felt (however briefly) that I had failed to live up to the day's expectations of me - or my expectations of the day. All of that joyful family time diminished slightly because I felt that things weren't happening as I had hoped.

Still, I rallied: we opened the good wine that I had bought to cook with, and I made a simple soup with the highest-quality beef broth that was also intended for the bourgignon. We ate our cheese and baguette with the soup, and the bubbly remains in the fridge, awaiting its opportunity.

Why, you may wonder, have I chosen today to tell you about a meal that happened nearly two weeks ago?

Well, I made that soup again last night and it was delicious. Everyone in our house is under the weather this week, so I put it together in a bit of a rush, not expecting much - but it was a perfect simple soup, hot enough for comfort on a cold night and hearty enough that no one was left feeling hard-done-by (which can happen with a soup supper around here).

I'm guessing I'm not the only one who could benefit from lowering her expectations this weekend. These are the dying days of February; the Olympics are drawing to a close. Spring's celebrations still feel significantly far off. In our part of the world, it's snowing more than it has all winter.

Best to huddle in and not plan too much. Keep expectation to a minimum, and the joy to be found in simple things may take you by surprise.


Simple Barley Soup

The first time I made this, I used a wonderful and expensive organic beef broth. Last night, I used chicken stock, which is all I had on hand, and not one of us (including the soup) was the worse for it. I also realized after I took the above photo that I had forgotten to add the mushrooms, and that the sprigs of fresh thyme I had intended for a garnish were still in the fridge. Ah well. Life, as they say, is not lived in a lab.

1/2 c pearl barley
1 1/2 c water
1/4 c olive oil
2 medium onions, chopped
2 large or 3 medium carrots, chopped (yes, those are carrot flowers you see in the photo, but really, just chop them to a uniform size)
2 large or 3 medium parsnips, chopped (see above)
a handful of sliced mushrooms
1/4 c white wine
1 tsp dried thyme
5 c broth (dealer's choice)
2 cloves garlic, minced

Place barley and water in a medium saucepan over high heat. Stir well, bring to a boil, cover and simmer until most of water is absorbed and barley is quite tender, 30-45 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside.

Meanwhile, in a large saucepan, heat olive oil over medium high heat. Add onions and cook until golden, stirring frequently so they don't burn. Add carrots, parsnips, and mushrooms, and cook, stirring, until onions are deep golden in colour, about another 5 minutes. Add wine, stirring and scraping up any brown bit stuck to the bottom of the pot. Add thyme and broth. Bring to a simmer, then cover and lower heat. Cook until vegetables are just tender, 10 minutes or so, then add cooked barley and garlic. Cover and continue to simmer until vegetables and barley are tender, 20-30 minutes.

Serves 4-6 as a main course, with bread and a salad.