Eating in is the New Eating Out

Yesterday afternoon, not long after my brother picked up the kids for a video game filled night with Uncle D., Phil called to see what I wanted to do. I venomously spat out that we would be eating at home, again, and hung up the phone.
It is always the same story. Phil loves to eat out. It doesn't matter where, and it is not because he is not well fed (very well fed) at home, but he loves to eat in restaurants. I, on the other hand, am thoroughly disgusted with the fare offered at most eateries within a 20 km radius of my home, and am loathe to spend money and to have to eat poor quality food. That being said, I do love to eat in good restaurants, and have lately been dreaming of trying out a few new places in town. One, a lively Italian restaurant that has been earning rave reviews for it's elegant atmosphere and sophisticated dishes. The other offers local produce, charcuterie and imported cheeses in a rustic setting, served with a beautiful selection of wines and beers. But all of this fine food and ambiance comes at a price, and these days we are able to treat ourselves only occasionally. So I find myself in the same situation week after week, insisting that we eat at home despite longing to have someone else serve me a delicious meal that I don't have to shop for, cook or clean up after. Sigh...
I spent most of last week shopping and cooking, and the family gathering on Friday left me worn out. I haven't really felt like cooking or eating since, which has meant meals of leftovers, a one pot veggie curry and even, gasp, take-out pizza! Last night was no different, but the tomatoes that were ripening past their prime on the counter were begging to be eaten, as was the goat cheese in the fridge, and I knew that I had to do something about it. (I can't stand throwing anything away which explains many of the interesting meals that we eat!) Although I would have prefered to be dining in an elegant restaurant, I opened up an inexpensive bottle of organic red and came up with a quick dinner plan that resulted in what was possibly the best pasta I have ever eaten. As Phil and I sipped our perfectly palatable carmenere and slurped down our creamy vegetable laden linguine, we knew that no restaurant meal would have been quite as satisfying or as affordable! If you have fifteen minutes, you can whip it up too.

Put a large pot of salted water to boil on the stove. Mince three cloves of garlic, some fresh or dried hot pepper to taste and a handful of parsley and basil leaves. Put in a small bowl. Slice very thinly four cups of mixed vegetables. I used tomatoes, yellow peppers, zucchini and green beans, but carrots, asparagus, mushrooms or peas would be delicious also. Cook 200g long pasta until very al dente. Drain. Heat 1 tbsp olive oil on med high heat. Add garlic, hot pepper and herbs. Fry 30 seconds. Add mixed veg. Fry 30 seconds or until hot. Add pasta, 1/4 cup grated parmigiano reggiano and a handful of crumbled goat cheese. Stir to coat and melt the cheeses. Serve in two bowls with freshly ground pepper and eat while very hot. Enjoy!

P.S. My macarons turned out pretty well. The first batch was undercooked and my filling was a total flop, but the second batch of cookies were pretty authentic. I'll have to keep working on it!

Les Macarons

I woke up this morning thinking about Paris and all of the beautiful breads and pastries that are impossible to find or reproduce here. I bought an authentic looking baguette on the weekend, perfectly golden brown with lovely domed slits and tapered ends. But the crust did not crackle the way that it should and it was a little too hard. When I sliced it to make tartines, it had enormous holes inside, from being proofed too long. All of the garlicky roasted aubergine spread that I made fell right through and onto my lap! Sigh...
In Paris we were fortunate enough to live across the street from what turned out to be my favorite boulangerie in town, Yannick Martin at 302 rue Saint Honore. Every day at lunchtime, there was a line-up a block long of of local business people waiting for foot long baguettes stuffed with cheese, meat and crudite (tomatoes, lettuce and egg). On his way home from work, Phil would stop for the usual "tradition" (a premium baguette) or two, depending on how hungry he was feeling. I would often bring the boys in to choose a pastry for dessert, which was always a frantic and stressful event, as they would inappropriately lean against the shiny glass counter and hold up the line as they carefully pondered each decision, the shop assistants on the other side waiting impatiently with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. Ahhh, Paris!
Today I feel like attempting something utterly Parisian, the macaron! In case you have not been privileged enough to ever experience one, I will describe it for you. Before my first trip to Paris I had read about these marvelous little confections in guide books and websites, and I had trouble believing that they were as good as everyone said they were. We stopped at La Grande Epicerie in the 7th one day and there we found a counter filled with the most beautiful little round cookies I had ever seen. They were every color of the rainbow and filled with jams, jellies and creams. Although I usually avoid such obviously coloured foods, I chose a bright green pistachio cookie, one coffee and one chocolate. As we returned to the sidewalk outside, I took my first bite and had to stop; I knew that this was a moment to fully appreciate. They are much heavier than they appear to be and as my teeth bit through the dense, moist nuttiness of the cake, and the sweet, rich cream filling melted on my tongue, I knew that I would have to find a recipe for these at home. When I recounted this to a local French woman I met, she shook her head and declared that it is impossible for the home chef to recreate. The challenge was on. After all, how had can it be to make a meringue and nut cookie?
After we returned from that trip, I spent three weeks, used three dozen eggs, and gained four pounds trying to get my recipe just right. I never did find a reliable method. The real cookie has a shiny, crusty dome, surrounded by a ruffle of batter that sneeks out while baking and a dense, chewy interior. I would usually get one or two of the three attributes right, but fall flat on the others. Zut alors, she was right! Today, however. I will try it again, for the first time in two years. I am determined to make a perfect macaron. I have to admit that even when they imperfect, there are never any leftovers by the next day. They are still delicious!
Mom and Dad will be returning to France in September, and although baguettes are a little cumbersome in carry-on luggage, a pretty green box fille with macarons from Laduree (the best macaron patisserie in Paris) will be the perfect souvenir for them to bring back for me!

Cooking to Please

I am having good friends over for dinner tonight, whom I absolutely adore. However, I do not adore cooking for them, as is the case with most of my friends and family. As a passionate cook, creating meals to please the lowest common denominator is always a challenge that dampens my spirits. There are allergies and other medical conditions, vegetarians, and plain old fussy eaters to contend with. My own children are pretty adventurous, but they are not always hearty eaters and that is also hard for me. Nothing pleases me more than when others enjoy my food as much as I do. Luckily, my husband is a bon gourmand, so I can always count on him to equal my enthusiasm at the table, except for dessert, which he prefers to be of the chocolate variety, and there are only so many chocolate cake variations a girl can make.
I just received Laura Calder's new cookbook this week, French Taste, and she also speaks about how difficult it is to entertain in North America these days because everyone seems to have dietary restrictions of some sort. She is a wonderful cook who uses the best ingredients to prepare simple French dishes that are often loosely interpreted, which suits me fine, because I believe that always being shackled to recipes removes all creativity and the chance to create something truly amazing. That is not to say that recipes are not essential to the perfect results of some dishes...but I digress. Today, while trying to concoct a menu that would please all palates, I came across a passage in French Taste that reminded me of why I love to be in the kitchen. Calder writes about how her father is a great inspiration to her. He is a casual, fearless cook who loves to "play". Her explanation for his carefreee style is that his approach " has to do with cooking to please yourself, instead of striving, martyr-like, to do whatever it is you decide will please the rest of the world. (And also) it comes down to not taking yourself or your food too seriously." I don't know how serious I am about my food, although I take my ingredeints very seriousy, but I sure spend a lot of time trying to please all of the eaters around me. So, I have decide to cook for my own pleasure more often. As a matter of fact, on Monday, the kids will be out, and I plan on making something absolutely fantastic for me! Phil can have some too, I guess, but really it will be my meal. I will have to come up with something new. I'll keep you posted...
In the meantime, short of not inviting anyone over anymore, I will need to cater to my friends and family this weekend. So for the menu tonight, I have come up with:
Aubergine Tartines (I don't know who will eat it, but I think it will be delicious!)
Chicken burgers marinated in fresh herb, olive oil and garlic on fresh ciabatta
Garden salad (from my garden)
Quinoa tabbouleh
Fruit tart, plum/apricot and peach blueberry (they just came out of the oven and look fantastic)

Not too shabby if I do say so myself!

Eat Your Greens!

The dog days of summer are upon us and I'm loving every minute of it. The kids are all inside because it's too hot outside, but I'm still cranking up my oven. How else am I supposed to use up all of the delicious fresh fruit that is in season for such a short time? I wake up in the morning imagining what I can concoct today. Tonight my in-laws came over for a casual dinner on the deck that overlooks my bountiful raised vegetable planters. It was too hot to cook our meal inside (except for dessert of course, but I'll get to that later), so we enjoyed delicious local turkey and chicken sausages on the barbecue, slathered in dijon and wrapped in baguette. The peppers and onions were done in a cast iron skillet on the side burner and had a wonderful caramelized and smokey flavour. The salad was fresh from the garden with ripe tomatoes, small cucumber, crisp fuchsia-skinned radishes and sweet vidalia onion (from the market). Cold Italian Pinot-Grigio washed it all down as a light breeze cooled us off. For dessert I made a delightful blueberry tarte-rustique: a free-form pie with sticky juices running out the sides and a mound of shiny, sweet berries escaping from the middle.
After dinner, my mother-in-law and I toured the vegetable boxed, amazed at how much they can produce. Clumps of lettuce, arugula, beets and carrots. Green onions, garlic, tomatoes and green beans. Radishes, broccoli, zucchini and oh, the beautiful, curly, shiny masses of multi-color stemmed swiss chard...oh no! The swiss chard! I knew there was something missing on the table. My beautiful foil package of chard, seasoned with salt, pepper and olive oil is...still on the barbecue. What a terrible burned mess. My heart broke a little when we realized that in the excitement and anticipation of our supper, we forgot to take it off the grill. Tant pis! Supper was fabulous. And I can console myself with the knowledge that there is plenty more where that came from! I'll eat my greens tomorrow.