seeds

Another Halloween will soon have passed, and with it more happy memories will be made! It is so very true that those we have lost live on in our hearts and minds. My father left us very suddenly six years ago, right before Halloween, and although not a day goes by that I do not think of him, the weight of his loss feels heavier when I find myself prepping for what used to be be of one of his most favourite nights of the year. Of all things Halloween, I think my father liked carving our pumpkins the best! This was before Martha Stewart, fancy stencils and the Internet. I remember the E.T. Jack-o'-lantern that he once cleverly put together using a tall oval-shaped pumpkin and a long skinny-necked and flat-headed squash. He thought of using decorative gourds, cabbage leaves and other veggies as accessories and body parts long before anybody else we knew, and his masterpieces were even featured in our neighbourhood's weekly paper.

It is no wonder why I put so much pressure on myself to produce original pumpkins each year!  It is a way for me to remember my father and it is hopefully a penchant that will be passed on to my own children when they grow up. What else did my father insist we do each and every year? Well, roasted pumpkin seeds, of course!!

Roasted Pumpkin Seeds

Ingredients
Fresh pumpkin seeds
Olive oil
Kosher salt
cumin
Paprika (sweet or smoked)
Cayenne pepper

Directions
1. Wash pumpkin seeds in a colander,  remove any bits of pumpkin flesh, mix with hands to shake excess water out and spread out to dry on a tea towel. Cover with paper towels or another tea towel.

2. Once the seeds are mostly dry (a little moisture is fine), preheat the oven to 350F. In a bowl, toss the seeds with the olive oil, the salt and whatever spices you want. I usually make a simple batch, with olive oil and salt, and a spiced-up second batch with a little salt, cumin,  paprika and a smidgen of cayenne. For two cups of pumpkin seeds you will not want more than a teaspoon of cumin, a small pinch of  paprika and an even smaller pinch of cayenne.  I use whole cumin seeds, which I dry roast in a cast iron pan and grind with a mortar and pestle. Ground cumin will do just fine if it is all that you have on hand. If your paprika is quite strong, or if you use smoked paprika, then go easy on the cayenne or leave it out entirely.

3. Spread onto a cookie sheet and roast in the oven for about 15 minutes, stirring once, for more even cooking, until the seeds are golden brown and crispy. Watch them carefully because they burn easily! Remove from oven, let cool slightly and enjoy as a healthy snack, aperitif or even as a topping for squash or pumpkin soup.

images

Though this blog is food-centered, there is no question, I am not convinced that it is taking the typical food blog trajectory. For instance, I have absolutely no interest in photographing every step of the dishes I produce. I am confident you all know what chopped onions or peeled carrots look like, yes? I know many of you want to see photographs and I promise I will try. But, here's the thing: I don't cook for the blog. I cook for my family and then maybe the blog gets to hear about it. I cook in an old kitchen while simultaneously tending to the nine-month-old who gets stuck under chairs, puts everything into his mouth and chases after the poor cat. I chop, blend or sauté while my daughter sings or speaks over my every thought. And I tend to them first and foremost, because they are my everything. Here's the other thing:  I want whatever photo I decide to post to be artistic, not just functional, but what I usually have on hand is my iPhone, which doesn't really qualify (see Brussels sprout pic).  Plus, those of you who have been in my kitchen know that is does not provide the ideal backdrop for lip-smacking food photographs. I need to pull out the big guns if I wish to produce something that will offset these old grey cupboards, white melamine countertops, sub-par lighting and average looking appliances. Our good cameras are usually safely tucked away in a child-proof camera bag and I am trying to form the habit of having them on hand before I begin to cook. So, please bear with me and I will begin to grace these pages with some pics on a more regular basis!

balance

An entire week has passed since I last posted. Just like that! I'm sorry, but I was all caught up with my old friend, Life. If I were in elementary school and you were my teacher, I would say: "I'm sorry, but Life ate my homework".

Though she can sometimes be kind and gentle, Life tends to harry me, so much that I often find myself ignoring her a little. But she is quite prompt in reminding me of her existence, be it through the daily loads of laundry, the stinky diapers, the nasally nighttime wailing, the dirty floors, the kindergartener tantrums, the clutter, the grumpy husband, the bulimic cat, the hormonal mood swings, the mysterious vanishing keys and wallet, and, my favourite, the squirrel family that is happily nesting in my roof. I think it is high time for me to make a new friend. I've mingled with her a few times but things never really gelled. Her name is Balance. She could most probably help me get reacquainted with the kinder and gentler version of Life. She could help me make better choices and set realistic goals. Perhaps she could bring along her friend Organisation, who would teach me how not to procrastinate and how to keep my house from looking like a bomb blast site all the time, no matter how much I constantly tidy up after myself and the aforementioned baby, kindergartener, husband, cat and damn squirrels. Ah, Life!  But where would I be without her? The answer is quite simple: nowhere. Yin and yang.

Life also brings me love, laughter, food, wine, beauty and kindness. She brings me a happy little girl who sings and dances through my heart, a sweet-smelling baby boy who giggles and squeaks, a darling husband who loves me unconditionally, and a cat who warms my lap. And after she and I have had a fight, Life makes up for it by offering me simple and delectable roast chicken.

Simple Roast Chicken with Autumn Root Vegetables
Serves 4 or 6, depending on portion, appetite, size of bird, etc!
Ingredients
One 4 to 4 1/2 pound organic, free-range chicken
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
6 to 8 garlic cloves, peeled and lightly smashed
3 sprigs rosemary
Half a lemon
Butter (optional)
Olive oil
4 to 6 medium parsnips, halved lengthwise
4-6 medium carrots (rainbow coloured look extra pretty), halved lengthwise
8-10 fingerling or small red-skinned potatoes

Directions
1. Remove innards from the chicken's cavity, wash bird inside and out and dry thoroughly with paper towels. With scissors, discard any extra fat hanging from the neck or bottom. Let the bird stand at room temperature for at least an hour, or else it will not roast evenly.
2. Preheat oven to 425F. In the oven, place a roasting pan that is not too large, but that will comfortably accommodate the vegetables later on if you choose to roast them with the chicken instead of separately (we'll get back to that).
3. Generously season the inside of the bird with salt and pepper, throw in the garlic cloves, rosemary, lemon and a nob of butter (optional).
4. If you want, place your index finger underneath the skin on the breast and very gently begin to separate the skin from both breasts, being careful not to tear the skin. Sprinkle salt underneath and pour in a little olive oil (this will make for crispy skin).
5.Generously season the outside of the skin with salt and pepper and rub a little olive oil all over it (it can't hurt).
6. Truss the chicken only if you feel like it! I have these thin skewers (about 15 cm or 5 inches long) and just place two at the opening. I only use string when I'm dealing with a turkey or capon.
7. Swivel and tuck the wing tips underneath the bird to prevent them from burning.
8. Carefully place chicken into the hot roasting pan and roast, breast-side down, for 30 minutes.
9. While chicken roasts breast-side down, prep your veggies. The vegetables should all more or less cook at the same time, provided they are roughly the same size. If your potatoes seem too large, don't hesitate to cut them in half. Place all veggies into a mixing bowl and toss with olive oil, salt and pepper. Veggies usually take between 30 or 40 minutes to roast on a baking sheet, so this is why I add them after the chicken has already roasted for half an hour. If you have a smaller chicken, you'll have to start them earlier. Here is your choice with the veggies. You can either cook them on a cookie sheet, on the rack below the roasting pan, or you can add them to the roasting pan when the time comes to turn the chicken breast-side up. Both equally good, one way not quite as healthy (I'll let you guess which one...).
10. Lower the heat to 400 F. Turn the chicken over, arrange vegetables around the chicken (or place vegetables on a cookie sheet). Roast until ready, for about another 45 minutes. Feel free to spoon some pan juices onto the breasts as the bird roasts. The chicken should register 160 on a meat thermometer, it should run clear juices when pricked with a fork, the legs should move easily when wiggled (not bounce back) and the skin should separate from the meat on the drumsticks. If your bird is smaller, it might take about an hour total.
11. Remove chicken to a platter and let rest for about 15 minutes until the juices settle.
12. Use this time to finish cooking veggies if they are not cooked enough to your liking.

Chicken Stock

After dinner, put the carcass as well as all other chicken bones into a large pot. Add two or three carrots, two or three slices of celery, a handful of parsley, a skinned and halved onion, as well as a few peppercorns and a pinch of salt. Cover with water. Bring to a slow boil and lower heat to a simmer (a high boil will make the broth cloudy). Let the broth simmer slowly, uncovered,  for two hours. Drain into a food storage container through a sieve, let cool, and refrigerate (or freeze).

nourishment

I fell upon a beautifully written opinion piece in last Sunday's New York Times magazine and let's just say that it got me thinking. In Notes from a Dragon Mom, Emily Rapp writes about her 18 month old son, who is dying of a rare genetic disorder and will most likely not live past his third birthday. This little dying boy's mother writes with such candor, strength and assurance that you almost feel like she is trying to comfort you, the reader, while it should be entirely the other way around. 

I have since then only halfheartedly been thinking up ideas for my blog. Here is a woman whose child is dying. A woman who is parenting a child with no future. And here I am talking about Brussels sprouts and about how Autumn makes me feel vulnerable. It's embarrassing. The exercise feels irrelevant and highly narcissistic and I am unsure as to whether I really have a voice.  What is the point?

I wonder what I would cook for Emily Rapp.  What could I feed her that would momentarily make her forget her pain and her anguish? You see, nourishment has always been my antidote to pain, for myself and for the people I love. The need to nourish others, to take care of them; it is the only concrete thing that I can think of because I cannot - though I would - take their pain away and make it mine. I guess that is the point, for now?

comfort

Autumn is undeniably the time when I feel the most vulnerable. I have often wondered why Winter doesn't bring out these feelings in me, but I guess by the time she arrives I am already "locked in" and ready to go. I think it is because the transition between Summer and Autumn isn't subtle or progressive. It just hits you. One day you are wearing shorts and a t-shirt and the next, you wake up and you are forced to reach for a sweater. From a food-lover's perspective, one day you are eating ceviche and then, boom, you are in the mood for ratatouille. Sudden and destabilising, but not entirely unpleasant!

By nature I usually require a more subtle transition and I must ease into new realities. Autumn, however, does not waste time. She just arrives, uninvited. The nerve! She comes, with her blustery days and foggy mornings and yet, for a solid month, I continue to leave the house sockless and sweaterless, in complete denial that Summer has left me for good (or at least until next year).

But Autumn is cunningly beautiful, with her flamboyant colours, her crisp, clean air, her sharp and contrasting lighting, and, yes, the bounty of her food.  Such inviting, warm-hued ingredients. They tuck you in and they prepare you for the long winter months ahead. They bring you comfort when you are at your most vulnerable.

Polenta with Sausage, Tomato and Wild Mushroom Ragù
Serves 4

This dish requires a little multitasking but there isn't much prep work involved and you should be all done within an hour or so. Boil the water for the polenta one one burner while you brown your sausages on another. Then, set aside your sausages and get going on your polenta. Once you've finished that initial 5 minute stir, cover the polenta and continue on with the sausages. Both dishes will be ready after about 45 minutes. The result is delicious, rustic and comforting.  

Polenta
From Marcella Hazan's "Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking".
Marcella is usually my go-to girl when it comes to classic Italian dishes. Her polenta recipe has never failed me and this is why I always turn to it. 

Ingredients
7 cups water
1 tablespoon salt
1 2/3 cups coarse-grained imported Italian yellow cornmeal
Directions
1. Bring the water to a boil in a large, heavy pot.
2. Add the salt, keep the water boiling at medium-high heat, and add the cornmeal in a very thin stream, either with a measuring cup or by letting a fistfull run through your nearly closed fingers. While adding the cornmeal, stir constantly with a whisk and make sure that the water is always boiling. 
3. Once the meal has been poured entirely, begin to stir with a wooden spoon. The classic way to prepare the polenta would be for you to go at this for a full 45 minutes. Though some Italian cooks would strongly disagree, constant stirring is not required!  Even Marcella says so! Instead, once you have finished adding the cornmeal, stir the polenta for 5 minutes and cover the pot. Make sure to adjust the heat so that the water bubbles at a very lively simmer but not at a full boil. When the polenta has cooked for 10 minutes, uncover and stir for 1 full minute, then cover again. Continue this for about 40 minutes. For the final 5 minutes, stir the polenta vigorously so that it loses its graininess. It is ready when it pulls cleanly away from the sides of the pot. I usually add a bit of salt as well as a large nob of butter and about half a cup of grated parmigiano, before plating. This dish calls for serving the polenta immediately, while it is hot. That said, one day you might try pouring it directly onto a wooden block and letting it cool. You could also pour it into a moistened glass bowl or dish, let cool for fifteen minutes and unmold upside down onto a platter.  It is wonderful grilled or served sliced with grilled vegetables or meat.

Sausage, Tomato and Wild Mushroom Ragù
Ingredients
Olive oil
4 Italian sausages (pork or chicken, spicy or not)
3 garlic cloves
1 large can of Italian tomatoes, with their juices
Fresh thyme
Fresh rosemary
Half a pound (8-10 oz) fresh chanterelles
1 shallot
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Directions
1. In a dutch oven or heavy bottomed pot or saucepan large enough to simmer all ingredients, heat a few tablespoons of olive oil,  brown the sausages, remove them and set aside.
2. Peel and smash the garlic with the back of a knife. Add one or two tablespoons of olive oil to that which is already in the pan, add the garlic and turn the heat on to medium. The garlic must not brown but rather gently infuse the oil for a few minutes. Add tomatoes and their juice as well as a pinch of salt and roughly chop the tomatoes up with a wooden spoon. Cover and let simmer for twenty minutes, stirring once or twice.
3. Meanwhile, clean the mushrooms with a cloth or paper towel. Tear them or cut them up lengthwise in two or three pieces, depending on their size. Finely chop the shallot.
4. In a frying pan, heat two tablespoons of olive oil and throw the mushrooms in, with a small pinch of salt, stirring at medium heat until the mushrooms begin to sweat. Throw in the shallot, blend and let sweat for another two or three minutes until shallots are soft. Set aside.
5. Finish breaking tomatoes down with your spoon. Add sausages and mushrooms  and throw in a sprig of rosemary and a few of thyme. The sausages should be at least half-way covered in the sauce. Place pan cover back on and let it all simmer gently, not boil, for another twenty minutes, turning sausages once or twice so that they cook through evenly. Uncover and gently stir for a few minutes to reduce liquids. Your tomatoes should come out of this looking stewy, that is, not too liquidy and not too dry. Add a few grindings of pepper and salt, if necessary (the sausages should be salty enough to season the sauce).
6. Serve over polenta with freshly grated parmigiano sprinkled on top.

Variation: reconstitute two or three ounces of dried porcini, drain them over a bowl through a paper-towel lined sieve and, when adding the chanterelles, throw the porcini into the sausages with a few tablespoons of their soaking water. The porcini will add some depth to the dish, but be careful not to use too many as they will overpower the delicately flavoured chanterelles.

first kiss

I am feeling a lot of pressure about posting my first recipe. Of course, this pressure is completely self-imposed since very few people read the blog. But still, I feel like the first recipe will make it or break it. Kind of like the first kiss. It has to make you want to come back for more. This is why you might find it peculiar that I have chosen the Brussels sprout for my first kiss, so to speak. Still, I can't help it if I'm feeling brussels-sprouty. They're at their seasonal prime and I'm a seasonal kind of cook!

If the vegetable world had a fall guy, it would be the Brussels sprout. Teased, thrown under the bus and repeatedly held responsible for many a child's hatred of vegetables because of its potential for sulfury bitterness. But I ask you this: why don't we ever blame the cook? Yes, the cook! You know, the one who boiled the crap out of the poor veg in the first place?

Brussels sprouts can sometimes be bitter, but that flavour only intensifies with boiling. Plus, preparing them that way only makes them lose their nutritional value. This, my friends, is a shame because these little cruciferous scapegoats are not only nutty and sweet when cooked properly, but they are also chalk full of glucosinates, otherwise known as cancer fighting superheroes (can you tell I have a five-year-old?). So, do yourself a favour, kiss try them again for the first time, but, please, for the love of all things green, do not boil them to death.

Sautéed Brussels sprouts
serves 4, as a side dish

1 to 1.5 pounds Brussels sprouts
Olive oil
1 large shallot
2 garlic cloves
Water or chicken broth
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Make sure you choose the right sprouts. You want them round and heavy, not too big, and their leaves must be tight (that goes for a lot of things, but I digress). 

To prep, wash sprouts and cut a little bit of the stem off. Be careful not to remove too much or else the leaves will fall apart. While you are at it, discard any tough-looking, discoloured or bug-eaten outer leaves.  Slice the sprouts lengthwise, either in halves or in up to three or four pieces. You can also shave them with a mandoline which is a little more time consuming prep-wise, but produces a delish result.

Finely chop the shallot and, if possible, shave the garlic with a mandoline. If you are not equipped with one, thin slices will do. 

Heat enough olive oil to coat the bottom of a sauté or frying pan. Toss your Brussels sprouts in the oil and arrange them cut-side down, add a generous pinch of salt and leave them be, at medium-high heat, until they brown.  It doesn't matter if your pan is crowded or if some of the sprouts do not brown. This should take between 3 and 5 minutes (or less if you decided to shave or very thinly slice the sprouts).

Throw in the shallots and garlic, give everything a nice stir and add one or 2 tablespoons of water or broth (quantity depends on how dry things are getting in there).  Cover with a tight-fitting lid. Steam/fry the sprouts for about one or two minutes until they are tender. Uncover, stir and sauté until there are no more liquids. You can continue browning or not. Just do not overcook them! Add a few grindings of pepper and salt, if necessary. Serve alongside any meat or fish, or just on their own.

Variation#1: use butter instead of, or in addition to, olive oil.
Variation #2: render about 150g (4 to 5oz) of cubed pancetta and reserve it for later. Add a tiny bit of oil to the pork fat and proceed to cook sprouts as indicated above. You might have to deglaze the pan with a little bit of water before putting your sprouts in, if the fats are starting to get a little too brown in there. Before serving, throw the pancetta pieces back in until they are warmed through and add a few tablespoons of finely chopped parsley before serving, for balance and colour.
Variation#3: slice waxy potatoes (yukon golds, yellow fingerlings, any potato that won't fall apart in pan) a little thinner than the Brussels sprouts and add them at the same time. Also works great with the pancetta and parsley variation.

Roasted Brussels Sprouts
serves 4, as a side dish

1.5 to 2 pounds Brussels sprouts
Olive oil
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper

This method really enhances the Brussels sprouts' nuttiness. 

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees F. Clean and prepare the sprouts the same way as indicated above, but leave them whole.  In a mixing bowl, toss the sprouts with olive oil, salt and pepper. Throw the sprouts onto a cookie sheet and stick them in the oven until they are ready, anywhere between 30-40 minutes. Turn them over halfway through, so that they will brown and cook evenly. Adjust seasoning.

Serve alongside any meat or fish.

Variations: You can toss and roast the sprouts with mixed root vegetables, such as fingerling potatoes, Jerusalem artichokes, parsnips and carrots. You might have to cut the root veggies in two or leave some whole, depending on their size, so that everything cooks evenly.  Feel free to add fresh thyme or whole garlic cloves to the roasting mix. Tossing fresh parsley in before serving is also a nice touch. Anything goes!




Sautéed Brussels sprouts



recipe for life

I did it! I finally created this blog after being urged to do so by my friends and family for many, many years. It took me a while to make it here because I couldn't help feeling that I had somehow missed the blog boat (bloat?!). There are countless food and leisure blogs out there and surely my gastronomical musings are very, very low on the totem pole of Orangettes, Smitten Kitchens and what not. Still, I love food. I love to eat. I love to shop for food. I can spend an entire day picking out the perfect ingredients to a perfect meal. "So What?", you say?! You're right! Judging by the crowds that gather at my local Sunday farmers market, I am not the only one who loves food! Nevertheless, I have decided to put myself out in the blogosphere, with no clear intention other than that of writing about one of my favourite pass times.

I recently offered to put together a compilation of some people's best recipes for a friend's bridal shower. The end product is lovely and inspiring and the content is so diverse. I found it interesting to see how some people credited their sources of inspiration, while others could not even remember where the recipes stemmed from originally because they had been preparing them for so long! This is where I started to ask myself about recipe ownership and what makes a recipe "ours". I have a very extensive cookbook collection and use it mainly for inspiration. My books inspire me to try different flavour combinations and to purchase ingredients that I would not normally pick out. However, there are certain classic recipes that are so perfect and so engrained in my culinary brain that I still follow them to the "t". The Silver Palate's Chicken Marbella is a good example. Who has not been to at least one party and not eaten this briny-sweet-and-savory-pruny-and-olivy-deliciousness? And let's not talk about recipes for baking. They are my Achille's heel. There is no room for "a little bit of this" in baking. It's all chemistry, which I suck at. And this is why I cannot claim to have any original baking recipes. Sure, I've fused different recipes and made them into one, with certain clever tweaks here and there, but the chemistry behind them is never mine.

What *is* a recipe anyway? Does throwing garlic into hot olive oil and pouring a can of italian tomatoes over it with a little salt and basil qualify? What about shaving some fennel onto a plate, smothering it with citrus fruit and then drizzling some primo olive oil over it? Is "prep seasonal root veggies, toss them in olive oil with garlic and salt and bake them in the oven at 400 until they are caramelized" considered a recipe?!

It is hair-bendingly difficult for me to quantify certain ingredients when I am writing down a recipe. Take olive oil, for example. One tablespoon? Two? A half cup? A little less? Can't I just write "OLIVE OIL" ??? I mean, is there really anything wrong with too much olive oil? I just know when there's enough. My left-brain oriented friends absolutely HATE it when my right brain throws them a recipe. "How many olives in your tapenade, Mia?". "Uuuuuh...I don't know", I say, showing them my fist. "About this many?!". This is why I make so many digressions and write very long-winded recipes. Because I am not conditioned to commit to one little clove of garlic or two measly anchovy fillets. It's not who I am. Why can't it be one or two, or three or four? Why must it be only one solitary anchovy? If your anchovies are ginormous, make it one. If they're skimpy, make it two. Does it matter? NO. Because that's just like life! It's messy. It takes practice. It's never the same and it always calls for a bit of this and a bit of that.