Gezellig

Hello foodies,

I have been derelict recently.  Busy at work, battling carpal tunnel syndrome, and basically not wanting to be in front of a computer when I get home. I have, however, taken this time to visit a number of restaurants and prepare for some reviews.  The first: Gezellig.

Gezellig is the sister restaurant of Play (my favourite restaurant, as I outlined in my very first restaurant review), and has been open for a little over a year.  As such, I expect awesome.  And when I have been there, I have not been disappointed.  There is a different vibe to Gezellig.  The food has a different feel/character.  Less edgy and occasionally experimental, but no less well thought out, balanced, and satisfying.  Gezellig is suburban, located in Ottawa's trendy Westboro neighbourhood, and the menu reflects that:  chic comfort food for refined palates.  Many of the things on the menu you can find elsewhere - they're just done better here, often with a twist that makes it interesting.

The atmosphere: it is a bright, airy space. Two story windows let in a lot of light (when it is light outside), and make it feel larger than it actually is when it is dark.  The service is impeccable, as it is at both the affiliated Play and Beckta.

At lunch, the focus on small plates, and have a 2 for $20 special.  As I have said before, I love this.  I allows me to try more. At dinner, they split the menu between small and full sized plates, making for a more traditional dining experience.

On this particular bright fall day, I was first impressed with the bread.  I know it is ubiquitous.  I know it is not supposed to be the focus.  And really, it is the very same sourdough bread as at Play.  But instead of mundane butter, this was served with  sage oil and blueberry gastrique.  I cannot stress how delightful this was.  After my first taste, I pulled out my phone to start googling how to make sage oil.  It was that good.  Making sage oil may well form the basis of a later post.  Sadly for readers, they change up the bread accompaniment regularly - I have also had other spreads and oils there.  But this was fantastic and set me up to love the rest of the meal.

My first dish was the crab cake:

I rarely order crab cakes.  In my experience, there is a little crab and a lot of filler.  But this crab cake did not disappoint at all.  Nice crabbiness, nice flavour, well cooked.  The anchovy caper sauce was a welcome change from the bland tartar sauce that generally accompanies a crab or fish cake.  Many fish cakes use mayonnaise as a binding agent, so using a mayo-based sauce seems redundant.  The sauce here offered a lovely texture and flavour contrast, and the green salad, thought simple, was perfectly dressed and cut through the fatty richness of the crab cake with anchovy sauce.

My second dish was a pork belly papardelle:

House made pasta, crisp pork belly, kale, fresh peas, onion and Parmesan.  And that beautiful, beautiful egg yolk, glistening on top, waiting to be broken and mixed in with the rest.  I don't know what it is about breaking an egg yolk and mixing it in to make a sauce that is so very, very satisfying.  This dish was homey, comforting, rich.  Different textures.  Refreshing peas and kale.  Fatty pork belly and egg yolk.  The spiky, sweet acidity of the onions.  Silky, tender pasta.

On this particular day, I did not order dessert, but I have in the past.  The butter finger is an unqualified winner, combining beautifully textured chocolate and peanut butter. It is rich - almost too much so for me, but well worth the indulgence.  Sadly, I do not have a picture to share, however, it is reliably on the menu.

Gezellig is a little more out of my way.  I don't get there as often.  But for me, that merely makes it a little more of a special occasion place, something to be particularly savoured when the stars align and and inspire me to leave my usual central/east locale.  It is defintiely worth a visit.

For updates, follow me on twitter! @culinarykira

Hallowe'en fun - potions and chocolate mice

Happy Hallowe'en, foodies!

I don't usually do much for Hallowe'en.  Early in my time as a homeowner, I would hopefully buy candy to dole out to adorable little ghosties and goblins, but I don't live in a high traffic area for kids - one banner year my doorbell rang 5 whole times!  The last couple of years, nothing.

This year, however, my Hallowe'en has been more festive.  At work, we were encouraged to decorate our areas, and at lunch today, there was a costume contest.  My colleagues and I take such events as as a challenge.  It is not only a time to have a little fun, but a time to demonstrate our creativity and imagination to the other teams we work with.  So we went all out, turning our area into a tent city and offering spooky Hallowe'en services such as palm and aura reading for very reasonable prices - for example, an eyeball, or all your hopes and dreams.  After learning about the future, we offered candidates a restorative potion, to strengthen their resolve against whatever calamities that were about to befall them (and to help them grow back whatever body part they sacrificed for the reading in the first place).

This particular potion involved 3 parts cranberry juice, 1.5 parts each of grape juice and apple juice, and 2 parts cola, plus some frozen strawberries.  The frozen berries are a handy trick to help cool without dilution.  I recommend keeping most of the liquids fairly dark so that the "potion" has a foreboding look.  For a better visual, we also got dry ice.  Place the punch bowl in a larger bowl and place warm water in the outer bowl.  Then add dry ice for smoking and steaming, changing water as it gets cold from the ice.  In theory, dry ice could be added directly to the potion for a more dramatic visual, but the risk of harm from accidentally ingesting a dry ice cube wasn't something we wanted to risk.  At -79 c, frostbite occurs in seconds, and it can bite all the way down to the stomach.

And what goes well with a potion?  Why a spooky cookie, of course!

 

My manager, M, made the meringue ghostie and the shortbread severed ladyfinger.  The fingernail is an almond, with cake decorating gel for visual effect, both were very tasty and appreciated by our colleagues.  The chocolate mouse is courtesy of D, and she kindly shared the recipe:

4 oz of semisweet bakes chocolate (4 squares), melted
1/3 c sour cream
1 c chocolate cookie crumbs
almond slices for ears
cake decorating balls for eyes
shoestring licorice for the tail

The chocolate can be melted either in the microwave, in 20 second intervals, stirring between, or in a double boiler.  Microwave is faster, but you sacrifice some control - greater possibility of scorching and having to start again.  Once melted, mix in the sour cream, and then add the breadcrumbs, and place in the fridge to cool.  Once cool and fairly firm, roll into two different sizes of balls to shape the head and body and press together.  There is a sweet spot for working with the chocolate mix - too warm and it is very sticky; too cold and it crumbles.  You may have to adjust accordingly.  To ease rolling into balls, D used additional breadcrumbs, which helped combat the stickiness, and gave the added benefit of creating a nice outer texture that made the mice seem more realistic.  Add the decorations and voila!  Cute, and tasty little mice that will more than satisfy an ardent chocolate lover.

I found the use the sour cream to be very interesting, and a great idea.  It is basically a variation on a ganache (equal parts melted chocolate and heavy cream), giving an intense chocolate taste, a gorgeous texture, and a hint of tartness from the sour cream.

For updates, follow me on twitter!  @culinarykira

Sweetbreads - My kitchen experiment

Hello foodies!

Like many people, much of my own cooking involves personal classics.  Comparatively simple things, cooked well, perfected over time.  Often I start with a recipe and make it a couple of  times, and then start fiddling with it to make it my own.  I won't necessarily say better, but more reflective of my personal taste.

When I want complex or outside-the-box food, I can usually get it in a restaurant or a speciality shop. I have never made my own sausage because it involves expensive equipment I don't (yet) have.  I have access to top notch artisan sausages here in Ottawa.  Pork belly confit, one of my favourite things on earth, is a 4 day process, and it is almost always available on Play's menu.  Despite this, sometimes I have a hankering to try my hand at something involved, something complex, maybe even something daunting.

Last weekend, I started the process of making sweetbreads.  Sweetbreads are the thymus or pancreas gland of a young animal - calf or lamb.  Flavour-wise, they are among the least objectionable organ meat.  Pale in colour, creamy in texture, they don't have that pronounced offal taste you find in liver, or the strong muscle meatiness of something like heart.  Most often served either pan-fried or grilled, they are a beginner's introduction to the off-cuts, and with recent trends towards nose-to-tail eating, they are becoming easier to find on North American menus and in quality butcher shops.  When I saw them in my favoured shop, I decided that, labour intensive or not, making them was worth a try.

Here, you see the raw, uncooked, uncleaned product.  They look a little like  pieces of chicken breast, although a closer look reveals the differences - a lot more membrane.  My research revealed several methods.  Soak in multiple changes of water, soak in milk, remove membrane right away, wait to remove membrane.  I decided to go with the more classic approach of soaking for hours in milk. after which I rinsed the sweetbreads and then simmered for about 5 minutes in acidulated water along with a couple of bay leaves.

 

After the simmering, we are not done yet; this is a 2-3 day process.  The next step is pressing the sweetbreads under a weight.  I put them on a plate, another plate on top, and used my trusty 5 lb saltbox to press them. 

The next day is the most daunting part: trimming.  Sweetbreads are covered in a membrane of varying thickness - to me it is similar, but less troubling to deal with than the membrane you find with rabbit.  Surprisingly, it was not a difficult as I had imagined to remove the membrane that will interfere with your enjoyment of the meat.  Any fat or non-meaty tissue pulls away fairly easily, and the membrane, once slit, is also not that difficult to remove.  Also, you don't have to remove all of it.  The thicker bits that will produce a chewy product should be removed.  Thinner bits that merely hold the various chunks of creamy gland tissue together don't have to be removed.  After they're trimmed, dredge in seasoned flour and pan fry in a mix of hot oil and butter.

 

The cook fairly quickly - maybe 4 minutes per side.  At the end, you have a crisp exterior, and a soft, creamy interior.  For me, sweetbreads are more about texture than taste.  The texture is so different then what you expect of beef, with its grain and structure.  The sweetbreads are rich, but not aggressive in their flavour.

My dinner that night, sweetbreads with soft polenta and pickled beets:

 

Experimentation in the kitchen is important.  It is how we perfect new techniques and bring interesting foods from the restaurants into the home.  It is how we gain confidence to move away from the childhood classics and break new ground.  Sweetbreads, were, for me, a particularly successful first attempt.  It took me 3 tries to get a good result with pork belly confit, and the polenta pictured above, although adequate, is still not what I had in mind - and attempts to make polenta fries with the leftovers were a complete failure.  No structural integrity:

 

But I will keep trying, and someday, hopefully this winter, I will add the full range of polenta to my repertoire. Stay tuned.

Follow me on twitter: @culinarykira

Seared fish

Hello foodies,

I am deep into a cooking weekend.  I have sweetbreads soaking in milk (look for a post later this week), gorgonzola sitting in the fridge waiting to be added to the polenta I am attempting tonight to go along with my beef ribs.  Last night, I pan seared a black cod (also known as sablefish) fillet.

We all know that fish is a healthy protein, and that most of us do not eat enough of it.  Granted, most of us also done live beside an ocean, and growing up that was a challenge.  Fresh fish in a smaller, landlocked Ontario town was just not widely available, so the fish I experienced growing up was either the ubiquitous childhood staple, fishsticks, or rectangular bricks of frozen sole or haddock available in the freezer section.  Neither were a particularly inspiring introduction to fish, although, as I child I prided myself on the fact that, unlike most kids (particularly my brothers and sister), I liked fish. Things are different now.  Decent fish is available in most supermarkets, and if you're lucky, your town/city has a good fishmonger.  Ottawa definitely has good fishmongers.

So with good fish more widely available, it stands to reason that we would, as a whole, be eating more of it.  The problem is, many, many of us don't know how to cook fish.  Or, more accurately, we all know how to overcook fish.  Fish, particularly most white fish, with its delicate flesh, offers comparatively little wiggle room - few seconds too long can mean the difference between moist/succulent and dry/rubbery.

Lately I have been on a sablefish kick (it has been regularly available at my local fishmonger).  It is a fairly fatty, but not oily, fish.  The fattiness makes it more forgiving to cook.  Pan searing is one of my favourite ways of cooking any white fish, but particularly sablefish. It is fast, simple and tasty. Fantastic just with a squeeze of lemon, but also easily dressed up with a beurre blanc if you want to impress.  Sablefish also works well with Asian flavours - with a dashi broth it is sublime.

I buy the fish with the skin on.  The skin helps to guard against dryness, and is good eating when fried crispy in the pan.  The skin also helps to maintain the structural integrity of the fish.  The first step, salt the skin side, salt and pepper the flesh side.  I usually do this about 15-20 minutes before I want to put the fish in the pan.  It allows them to come up a little in temperature, and allows the seasoning to sink in.

Heat a pan (I like a non-stick pan best) to med-high and add oil, then a bit of butter.  The oil will keep the butter from scorching, and the butter, of course, adds a nice flavour.  I use grapeseed oil, which has a high smoke point and a neutral flavour.  When the oil/butter is hot, put the fish in, skin side down.  There should be a sizzling sound.  Depending on the thickness of the fillets, 3 - 4 minutes should be sufficient.  When looking at the base of the fillet, near the skin, you should see that the flesh has turned opaque from cooking, while the upper portions remain translucent.

 

Here, I have flipped the thinner fillet because it was ready while the thicker fillet needed another 30 seconds or so.  You can see the crispiness of the skin, and the slightly golden cook on the flesh.

The key to not overcooking fish is, basically, to undercook it.  Once taken off the heat, all meats continue to cook for a few minutes, and fish, because of its delicacy, is particularly sensitive.  If you take it out of the pan when it is done, it will be overdone when you eat it.  Once flipped, another 2-3 minutes and it should probably come out of the pan.  You may wonder why it gets longer cooking on one side than the other.  It is because the skin offers protection and slows the cook down, and generally there is a layer of fat between the skin and the flesh that needs to render.  If you're cooking with skinless fillets, cooking time should be even.

 

And here we have the finished product.  Golden, slightly crispy on top.  The flakes starting to pull away from each other.  You can see in the fillet on the right that the inside does not look dry.  In fact, it looks a little underdone.  But, after a couple of minutes, what you have is....

 

The fish is just opaque, with a hint of translucence in the centre.  It remains moist and tender.  The flakes come apart easily, indicating its doneness.

There are, of course, many more ways to cook fish, and I vary my methods depending on the type of fish and the season (I like a whole grilled fish in summer - trout is particularly nice done this way)  But this is fast and simple - about 10 minutes from putting the pan on the stove to putting the fish on the plate.

For updates, follow me on twitter!  @culinarykira

Roast Beast - Let's Talk Turkey

Hello foodies,

So, how is everyone doing with Thanksgiving leftovers?  Tired of turkey yet?  With one turkey-centric holiday down, another fast approaching, this is the time to talk about the choice of roast beast, because today, I am here to tell you, that where the beast in question is turkey, increasingly it is a dish I cannot stand in the least. 

I am, perhaps, a exaggerating slightly when I say I can't stand turkey, as well as indulging in a love for Dr. Seuss, but I am serious when I say there are better options out there. 

As a child, a roast turkey was magical.  The excitement of family coming over, the smell in the house for hours.  The beautiful golden product.  I had a particular love for the crispy skin.  I still enjoy the things that go along side turkey.  Stuffing and cranberry sauce, potatoes and gravy.  But the bird itself....  not so much.  The beast is a victim of overbreeding for those plump, dry-as-dust white meat breasts.  It is a catch 22 - the dark meat takes longer to cook, so the massive legs that support those breasts aren't done until the breast meat is overdone and can only be choked down with liberal saucing.  People have developed methods to try counteract this - brining, deep frying, working butter under the skin of the breast, injecting the breast, etc.  But the basic flaw remains - the meat itself is not very appetizing when compared to virtually any other meat.

Think about it - when was the last time you were really excited for roast turkey?  Not any of the accoutrements, the meat itself, on the day it is cooked.  I'd wager it has been a while.  Now think about all the ways in which a roast can be better.

Smaller fowl such as chicken, capon or Cornish hen.  If you're a traditionalist, this is a way to go. You can have all of the sides, but since they're not deformed to satisfy mass consumerism, a nicer meat.  Having several holiday meals over the years with a friend's family, I can say those delightful Cornish hens were part of what started my holiday focus trending away from the Big Bird.

Roast duck - though smaller and more expensive than a turkey, when handled properly, you get moist dark meat (all dark meat), and luscious crispy skin.  In addition to the traditional sides still working, you get a quantity of rendered duck fat to save and use elsewhere (liquid gold in culinary terms).  Probably not the best option if you're feeding a large number of people, but for smaller gatherings, a duck is quite impressive.  I like Ted Allen's slow roasted duck with cherry rosemary sauce.

Roast beef - my family, too, is slowly turning away from turkey.  Last year, at Christmas, we had a roast beef, and it was delightful.  Easier to cook evenly than a turkey, beef comes with its own heavenly sides, like Yorkshire pudding and horseradish.

Pork roast - the king of meats.  A slow roasted pork shoulder is a bite of heaven, and it is one of the more economical ways to feed a larger number of people.  There is a particular richness to a picnic shoulder that is found in few meats.  The crackling on pork compares nicely to turkey skin, and cranberry sauce goes nicely with the meat as well.

Keeping in the pork line... Ham can also please, though it isn't my personal favourite. 

The point is, bite for bite, all of these are more flavourful and pleasing than turkey.  So when it is time to by the next beast for roasting, ask yourself are you buying turkey because you love turkey, or simply because it is habit and tradition?

The weather is finally cooling down and more cooking adventures are coming.  I am planning to try my hand at sweetbreads within the next couple of weeks, and my polenta challenge awaits.  Plus, the Ottawa Food and Wine show is coming up fast!

For updates and observations, follow me on twitter!  @culinarykira

Salmon Gravlax

Hello foodies!

My gravlax experiment, begun on Saturday, concluded last night with a delicious dinner, the cured salmon being what I consider an unqualified success (much different from my first attempt, back in April, which was a salty as the Dead Sea).

Some background.  The title of this post is a bit of a redundancy.  The "lax" in the word "gravlax" actually means salmon in the originating Scandinavian languages.  The "grav" means grave in those same languages.  A literal translation of "gravlax" is "grave salmon."  However, to the average North American eater, the word salmon provides something of an idea as to what might end up on your plate.

Gravlax is a cured raw salmon.  In appearance, it is similar to cold smoked salmon, though the texture is a little different, and the flavour significantly so.  Historically (think the middle ages), salmon was salted and buried in sand (hence the connection to the grave) above the high tide line and allowed to ferment as a way of preserving the salmon for later consumption.  In modern times, the fish is no longer fermented, but "buried" in a combination of salt, sugar and herbs/spices and allowed to cure for at least 24 hours, but up to several days.

The end result is a delicately salted, unctuous, beautifully textured bite where the true star is the excellent, fresh salmon you start with.  Done properly, the texture is neither mushy (like cold smoked salmon or sashimi can be), nor dry (like salted fish usually is).  It is smooth, and velvety, and almost melts in your mouth. 

When looking to make gravlax, the internet is little help.  Recipes vary widely.  Look at enough of them and you get some ideas, but until you actually cure the salmon, you don't know for sure what the end result will be.  Balance of sugar and salt is key.  If you go too far with the salt, you end up with a tough, dry product.  Too far with the sugar, and it is mushy and unpleasant in texture, and not properly cured.  However, there is a lot of room for personal taste in finding that balance.  Recipes range from a 2:1 sugar to salt ratio to the complete opposite - 2:1 salt to sugar.  Anything in that range *should* work, but texture, flavour, and how long it will keep might vary significantly.

Beyond the salt and sugar, dill and black pepper are extremely traditional, though other flavour elements can be used.  Some recipes call for citrus, some for liquor (vodka or aquavit, usually).  Basically, you can use whatever flavours you like and think will work.  I went fairly traditional, and added vodka and lime.

So, first thing:  the salmon.  It must be fresh.  I am lucky in Ottawa - there are a couple of good fishmongers where I can get quality product.  If you buy from a chain grocery store, I suggest a chat with the fish counter personnel to find out their delivery schedule and time your gravlax making accordingly.  You want matching, skin-on fillets of equal size and thickness.  Place them skin side down on a large sheet of clingfilm.

 

Then, I zested and peppered.

 

Next step: the salt and sugar.  I used a little more salt than sugar.  A ratio of about 2:1.5  I used a coarse kosher salt, but a very fine grain white sugar.  To the mix, I added more fresh ground black pepper.  As you can see, the cure is liberally sprinkled over the flesh.

 

Then the dill, lime and vodka.  A note on adding liquid - you don't want to use too heavy a hand.  The curing process essentially draws out the liquids and preserves the flesh.  Adding too much liquid at the start subverts the process.  A little squeeze of lime and 1-2 tbsps of vodka splashed over the fillets is sufficient.  I didn't bother chopping the dill, I just laid the whole fronds over the fish.

 

Then, carefully, you flip one fillet over on top of the other, sandwiching the dill and cure in the middle.  If you have one side of the fish that is thinner you want to match it to the thicker side of the opposing fillet for the best chances of getting an even cure.

 

Wrap your gravlax-to-be tightly in several layers of clingfilm and place in a baking dish - something with a lip.  The package will release liquid, so you don't want it to leak all over the fridge.  Put a plate and something heavy - at least 1 or 2 pounds - on top of the curing package to weight it.  I used a 5 lb box of salt.  Place in the fridge, and let cure for 2-3 days, flipping the package every 12 or so hours.  The thicker the fillets, the longer they will take to fully cure.  I let mine go 3 days.

 

Afterwards, unwrap and discard the dill.  I rinsed mine in cold water to get rid of any excess salt and patted dry with paper towels.  Then, slice as thinly as possible on the bias.

 

Traditionally, gravlax is served with a mustard and dill sauce. I changed it up a bit by adding a bit of Dijon to sour cream with some chopped fresh dill.  It works with crackers, as pictured above, bread, boiled potatoes, or just on its own.  It should keep up to a week in an airtight container in the fridge.

This is my new favourite way to have salmon.  I will probably still play with the recipe a bit, try some different ratios of salt and sugar, maybe some different flavour elements.  Experimentation is at least 1/4 of the fun of doing something like this.  3/4 of the fun is, of course, the eating.

For updates, follow me on twitter!  @culinarykira

Green tomato relish

Hello foodies,

Here we are, the last weekend in September.  I have given my tomatoes all the time I am going to give them.  This morning, I went out and harvested everything that was either fully green or fully ripe.  There are a few left in the midst of ripening, and taking all the green fruit away will help with that - the plant can direct its flagging energy to finishing off the remaining fruit.

In preparation for making the relish, I have been researching recipes and methods.  Many recipes had cabbage in them.  Very few had garlic.  All had green tomatoes, bell peppers, and onions and vinegar as central ingredients, and most also had sugar, but the flavour profile beyond that seems rather flexible.  Ultimately, my reading led me to an understanding of the ratios of sugar, vinegar and salt needed, and my own preferences led me to develop my own flavour profile.  Thus, I am confident in saying this is my very own green tomato relish!

So, my recipe:

12 green tomatoes, chopped into 1-2 cm pieces
2 green peppers, chopped into 1-2 cm pieces
1 jalapeno pepper, cut into thin rings - with seeds
1 little tiny HOT pepper of your choice, also with seeds - I used a green Thai chili.
4 medium red onions, diced - the dice is smaller than the chop on the tomatoes and onions
1 head of garlic, peeled and coarsely chopped
2 c white sugar
3/4 c cider vinegar
40 grams of pickling spice blend
1.5 tbsp salt
extra mustard seeds and celery seed to taste

 

Some recipes call for letting the chopped veg drain for an hour, or adding the vegetables to a simmering vinegar/spice/sugar solution.  I find all of that too fancy.  I just put it all in a big pot, mixed it about, put it on medium-high heat, and let it go.  Once it was simmering, I lowered the heat to a little over medium and let it go 20-25 minutes or so.  I didn't want to completely lose the structural integrity of the vegetables, but I wanted the rawness of the onion and garlic to cook out.  I sampled some, and found I like the flavour balance, and made the executive decision it was time to can.  Here is what it looked like after the cooking process:

 

Now, for safe food preservation, the jars and rings have to be sterilized, meaning boiled, completely submerged in water, for 10 minutes.  Some websites say that jars can be sterilized in the dishwasher or oven.  I don't trust this.  I placed a sushi mat at the bottom of my stock pot, arranged the jars and rings in the pot, poured hot water from the tap over until the jars were completely submerged, and then turned on the heat, bringing it to a boil.  The sushi mat is so the jars aren't in direct contact with the pot, which reduced the chance of breakage.  After the jars and rings had boiled long enough, I turned off the heat, and added the lids.  The adhesive strip around the lids can be damaged in water that is fully boiling.  This sterilization process was happening while I was chopping.  I left the jars in the water until I was finished cooking the vegetables. 

Using a funnel, I scooped simmering, bubbling relish into the sterile jars, wiped the edges, placed the lid, and tightened.  As I continued, I heard the already filled jars pop, meaning the seal was made, the button on the lid was down.   If you press the centre of the lid, it does not move at all.  Many recipes call for the full jars to be boiled for 10 minutes to set the seal, but my research (and family practice) has found that where you're putting boiling food into sterile jars, this is unnecessary.  Once the jars pop, you're able to tighten the rings further.  Properly canned and sealed preserves will keep 2-5 years.  When opening a jar, if the lid is rusted it is no longer good.

So, at the end of the day, I have nine 250 ml jars of green tomato relish, and one little tupperware container to use immediately.  The flavour is sweet and spicy, with a vinegary, mustardy tang.  The jalapeno and Thai chili bring a nice heat at the end.  I look forward to using this as a condiment with chicken and pork dishes, particularly, but it will also work with beef - especially on a burger, or a meatloaf sandwich.

 

All in all, my first summer of growing tomatoes has been mostly a success (there was that one plant that didn't produce anything).  I learned what I need to do to maximize production and facilitate ripening, so next year, I can manage my plants better from the start.  A small tomato crop is my new summer tradition.

Next adventure:  salmon gravlax, currently curing in the fridge.  Look for  a post on how it turns out on Tuesday or Wednesday.

For updates, follow me on twitter!  @culinarykira

Roasted Tomatoes

Hello foodies,

I am deep in the grips of an awful head cold.  Most of the last 36 hours I have been curled up, feeling sorry for myself.  But today, I had to acknowledge one universal truth: ripe tomatoes wait for no woman.

All of my earlier angst about tomatoes not ripening seems to have been wasted.  I have ripe tomatoes - all that I can handle.  I am now worrying I won't have enough green ones left to be worth attempting to make and can relish.  Looking at the 5 little beauties on my counter today, I knew I had to do something with them.  Sure, I could make yet another caprese salad, but where is the fun in that?  And a caprese salad wouldn't take care of 5 tomatoes.  I needed something that would solve the immediate problem of lunch, and the longer term problem of using 5 tomatoes.  My solution:  roasting.

Roasting carmelizes the sugars and intensifies and concentrates that sweet acidity that make tomatoes such a jewel of a fruit.  Roasting extends the life of the tomato, giving you more time to enjoy your garden bounty.  Roast tomatoes keep about a week in the fridge (and unlike fresh tomatoes, the fridge doesn't ruin their texture and flavour), or they can be frozen.  They are great in sandwiches - intense tomato flavour without the bread getting soggy.  A simple pasta served with olive oil, garlic, and a few sliced roasted tomatoes is a very satisfying meal.  A roasted tomato soup has a deeper, more intense flavour.  Etc.  Etc.

Roasting tomatoes isn't hard - prep time, 10 min, cook time, about an hour. 

• Halve (or quarter, if larger) as many tomatoes as you'd like to roast, and remove seeds.
• In a bowl, combine finely chopped garlic, basil, and oregano (or whatever herbs and spices you particularly like with your tomatoes), pepper, and a couple of tbsp of olive oil.
• Toss the tomatoes in the olive oil and spread on a baking sheet.
• Lightly sprinkle with salt.

• Place in the oven.  I roasted them for approximately 1 hr at 350.  You can do a shorter time at a higher temperature (but watch to make sure they don't burn), or a lower temp for longer.
• They're done when they're shrunken and a little shrivelled, and the garlic has softened and sweetened. 

Thanks to all the people who have recently taken an interest in my blog - I hope you keep coming back!  For updates and observations, follow me on twitter:  @culinarykira

Food trucks - My Summer Quest

Hello foodies,

Ottawa is seldom on the leading edge of a food trend.  And food trucks are no different.  Around North America, gourmet food has come to the streets.  Creative, interesting, exciting food.  In Vancouver, they're everywhere, and even high end chefs are in the game - Vikram Vij, one of Canada's premiere chefs, has a truck.  In Calgary, Top Chef Canada season 1 finalist Connie DeSousa also has a truck.  The Food Network has a show, airing multiple times per week, on the subject:  Eat St.  For decades, the only food truck that could be spotted on Ottawa's not-so-mean streets was the ubiquitous chip wagon, dishing out mountains of poutine, along with burgers, dogs, and pogos.  But in the summer of 2013, that all changed.  Ottawa licensed a number of new food trucks and carts, blowing the Ottawa street food scene wide open.

And for me, Culinary Kira, a quest was born.  I set myself the task of trying a number of downtown food trucks to see whether this food trend was worth the hype.  Concurrently, I also started this blog, which now gives me a platform from which to present my findings.  And my final analysis is that there is much hype, much of it undeserved, but there are a gems here and there, and those gems deserve your business.  Quick scoreboard:  Angry Dragonz and Dosa are gems.  Bap, by Raon Kitchen, is worth a try.  Ad Mare and Streat did not impress.

My first effort at finding food truck nirvana was in late May or early June.  I made myself a list of the assigned locations of certain downtown trucks and set off.  I found....   not a single one.  Almost a month after their heralded opening, there was not a truck to be found at its appointed location.  What I later found is that, none of the trucks were ready to roll in late May or early June.  It was more like July when things really got under way.  This was a disappointment.

In July, I made it out to Ad Mare, which, as a fish truck, was the one that most excited me.

The have a great location: downtown, surrounded by office towers.  And while the idea is great, the execution of the idea left something to be desired.  First, the service is SLOW.  When I arrived, I could place my order right away, but I was told it would be 20-25 minutes for the food.  That is about what I would likely wait in a restaurant for my order.  But in a restaurant, I wouldn't be standing on a street corner surrounded by traffic fumes and noises, and I wouldn't be paying a dollar for water.  If there is a line up when you arrive, you may wait 10 or more minutes to order, and then wait 25 minutes for your food.  This is not acceptable.  When there are only three things on the menu on any given day, they should be able to streamline production to the point that they can have food in your hand in under 10 minutes.  I ordered the fish and chips, their signature dish.  I will acknowledge that the fish was very good.  Cooked perfectly, seasoned properly, good batter to fish ratio, batter not overly greasy.  It is among the better pieces of fried fish I have had.  The same cannot be said for the accompaniments.  Coleslaw was bland and soggy.  It screamed out for some sort of tasty dressing.  The tartar sauce was not tart at all.  It was basically just mayo.  I had to search for the relish/pickle that makes a tartar sauce.  I certainly couldn't taste it. The chips were veggie chips, not french fries.  This, in and of itself, is not a problem, though I am sure some would be disappointed.  The problem was that they were very poorly done.  Unevenly cooked - some burned, with a nasty, bitter taste, some underdone, with a starchy, raw taste.  All greasy and unappealing.  I wanted to like Ad Mare, they just made it impossible.

This was not a good omen, but my faith in food trucks was restored in Kingston the next weekend, when the Farm Girl truck delivered tasty, fun food in a reasonable time frame.

 

C and I each ordered something different, and then split each dish.  At the top we have a meatloaf sandwich with fries, and on the bottom, pulled pork sandwich with a nice, fresh salad.  Both sandwiches were awesome, with complex flavours.  Some sweetness, tender meat, fresh greenery.  The fries were excellent, and the salad well dressed.  The Farm Girl experience made me believe it would be worth while continuing with these Ottawa trucks after my first two disappointing outings.

So, in August I again ventured out.  I walked by Streat.  This also has a good location, and I had heard good things.  However, the only menu item was a chili dog.  It isn't that they had run out of other menu items.  This was their only offering.  This struck them off my list.  I am not a fan of chili dogs, and they are something you can get at pretty much every Lou Patate truck in Ottawa, so it was hardly original or inspired. 

So I went to the cart run by Raon Kitchen, Bap.  Here, they basically do one thing, and they do it quite well.  Bibimbap - a nutritionally complete bowl of traditional goodness:  rice, meat, veg.  I opted for the beef bibimbap (they have chicken and tofu, maybe pork, as well), and added kimchi to the dish.  Highly recommend the kimchi addition.  The beef, rice, and veg, on their own, are not super flavourful, so the addition of the sour, fermented cabbage really kicks the flavour up (along with the doctoring from the various sauces at the side of the cart).  I added hot sauce, sesame seeds, and sesame oil to punch up the flavour.  It was filling and satisfying, and the service was fast.  But I still felt there was better to be had.

 

Today I went out again, determined to try Angry Dragonz, and here I found what I have been waiting for - a truly tasty food truck meal that makes me want to return.  I went with their signature dish - the Dragonz bowl.  Fundamentally, this isn't so different than bibimbap, but functionally, it is worlds apart.  Rice, slaw, masago (little red fish eggs commonly found on sushi), three skewers of grilled meat - chicken, beef and lamb - sesame seeds and a drizzle of sauce (to which I added 2 more sauces).  I also added an egg roll.  The dish was pretty.  The colours and composition made me want to eat it.  And when I tasted it....  it was really good.  The meat was well cooked, the slaw (cabbage, carrot, sprouts, scallions) was crunchy and cool, with some vinegary dressing providing the acid that I find I need in almost every dish.  There was crunch, and chew and starch.  Acid and heat, cooling veggies.  Everything that makes a fun dish.  The egg roll was great.  Probably best I have had in Ottawa.  Crisp, hot.  Open ended, and therefore not soggy and slimy inside - I dislike biting into an egg roll and getting a gush of oily water than has come out of the vegetables during cooking.  The menu is fixed, but there are plans to introduce noodle dishes soon.  Service was friendly, and the food was produced in reasonable time (around 5 minutes, a wait I consider quite acceptable, particularly given the quality of food), though I was told the line ups can be pretty big Thursdays and Fridays.  I wanted to try their dessert - the Dragonz Puffs - but I knew there was one other food truck to knock off my list. 

 

Finally, with the end of my quest in sight, I decided to head to Dosa (Somerset and Lyon), which is only a couple of blocks from Angry Dragonz (Lyon and Gloucester).  In a way, Dosa has a great location.  It is right by Dundonald Park, so you can pick up your dosa and head into the park to eat it.  In a way, it isn't the best location, because it is further away from all those downtown office towers that have thousands of people swarming out for lunch every weekday.  This is in a more residential area, and is only a couple of blocks from the start of Chinatown.  I hope today's lack of busy-ness was more a sign of cold Monday-ness (there is a chill wind blowing in Ottawa today), rather than lack of interest, because this place, too, deserves your patronage.

 

Where Angry Dragonz bills itself as Asian fusion, this is traditional Indian.  They do one thing, very well.  There are a variety of filling options, but I went for the traditional masala dosa - a thin, chickpea and lentil crepe, very crispy, stuffed with spiced potatoes and peas, and served with the traditional chutney and sauces, and some plantain chips for additional texture.  I have had masala dosa before, but this is by far the best I've found.  The spicing in the potatoes and chutney were fantastic, and walking back to the bus, my taste buds were a-tingling.  That is what I love about Indian food, it wakes up your mouth and makes it very happy.  They have a number of different fillings I am eager to return to try.

There are quite a few trucks I haven't tried.  I limited myself to the downtown core.  There are several in the west end that sound interesting.  All in all, I hope the food trucks are here to stay.

For updates and observations, follow me on twitter!  @culinarykira

Peach pockets

Hello foodies,

Growing up, dessert was not a regular feature in our house.  My mother, in charge of the cooking, had little interest in sweets, so the daily question, "What's for dessert?" voiced by at least one of us was almost always met with, "Nothing."  We lived with it.  And as adults, none of us have much of a sweet tooth.

However, there were those times of the year when old family recipes were dug up and my mother indulged in her own bit of nostalgia.  Peach pockets, in August, are one of those times.

August is, of course, peach time in Ontario.  The stores are full of freestone peaches, perfectly ripe.  They don't last long.  In addition to my grandmother making peach jam, and freezing peach pies for the winter, at least one Sunday dinner featured peach pockets.  I know, you look at the picture and see what is basically an individual peach pie.  And, fundamentally, it is.  But somehow it is better in pocket form than pie form.  Each pocket is a single whole peach, halved and pitted, with the pit cavity stuffed with a mixture of cinnamon and brown sugar, then wrapped in pie dough and baked until golden.  My theory as to why these are better than a full peach pie is that peaches are a wet and juicy fruit.  In a pie shell, the liquid released during cooking has nowhere to go, contributing to an overly damp interior.  With the pockets, you get a better end result with the crust.  And the crust to fruit ratio is pretty much perfect.

This year, my mother an my niece, M, were visiting me for a week in August.  I trundled off to work every morning, leaving them with a house full of fruit.  Mum took the opportunity to teach M one of the tried and true family treats, and I returned home at the end of the day to the heavenly aroma of sugar, baked peaches, and pie crust.

The basics of pastry are a ratio of 2:1 flour to fat, a healthy pinch of salt, and enough liquid to make it come together in a ball.  Within those basic parameters, there is a lot of room to play - type of fat, type of liquid.  Some people sweeten the crust if it is a sweet pie that is being baked (I don't).  Every baking family (and prior to my mother's generation, my family is certainly a baking family) has a pie crust recipe that they swear is better than all others, but they all basically adhere to those ratios. 

The first step is to mix the flour and salt, and cut in the fat.  A pastry cutter is not necessary.  A pastry cutter may, slightly, speed the job, but it is a unitasker that takes up space in the drawer.  Two knives works well to get it started, and you can switch to a fork once the pieces of fat are smaller.  Work the fat into the flour until it looks crumbly.  The picture below is early in the process; the fats need to be cut up much smaller.

 

On this particular day, the fat was a combination of vegetable shortening and butter.  I have only once tried lard, and I didn't like the result much.  I either go all shortening or a mix.  Butter makes the flavour richer.

 

For liquid, I beat 1 egg with 1 tbsp of vinegar and add to the mix, stir a couple of times, then add cold water 1 tbsp at a time until the dough comes together as you see here.  Very important: KEEP THE MIXING TO A MINIMUM.  The more you work the dough, the tougher it will be because the more the gluten in the flour will develop, becoming long and stringy at the microscopic level, weaving together and forming a dense, fibrous structure.  This is why we knead bread - to develop the gluten, but what makes a lovely bread makes a lousy pie crust.  A note about vinegar - it creates a flakier crust, but it is harder to handle when rolling out.  If you're a pastry novice, I suggest just using water to start, and then when you are getting good pastry results, try it with egg and vinegar.

Roll out on a lightly floured surface, with a floured rolling pin, until it is about 3 mm thick.  Move the dough around, even turn it, to ensure it doesn't stick.  Don't let cracks or tears throw you off (and if you're using egg and vinegar, it is more likely to fall apart at the edges).  There is always extra dough to patch up imperfections, but scrunching it up and rolling it out again develops that rascally gluten.

 

Here we have the dough rolled out and a peach ready to be stuffed with sugar.  The dough round here is, perhaps, a little larger than you need, but you can trim if it is too much; it is hard to stretch if it is too little.

 

Add about a tsp of a the brown sugar/cinnamon mix into the cavity of the peach and then put it back together and wrap and seal in the dough.  Don't wrap too tightly, though.  Place on a baking sheet and slice a vent in the top.  Bake in at 425 for 10 minutes, then lower heat to 350 and bake until golden.

Obviously, this would be good with vanilla ice cream, however, our traditional accompaniment is something we call hard sauce.  Sinful, caloric, and of no nutritional value, it is a mix of butter and icing sugar.  You take soft butter, and work in icing sugar, adding more and more sugar, until, basically, the butter won't accept any more.  What you have is similar to a hard, stiff icing.  A little piece of the sauce with each bite of peach pocket works beautifully, because the almost too-sweet sauce brings out the acidity found in any fruit.  Each mouthful combines the soft, yielding, sweet peaches with the hint of tartness at the end, with the crisp, flaky pastry that almost melts in your mouth. 

Thanks to niece M for her baking, and her photography, and to mum for walking M through the process and extending peach pocket delight to another generation.

For updates, follow me on twitter!  @culinarykira

Harvest

Hello foodies!

Short post tonight.

The little tomato plants that could have ripe produce.  In is harvest time!

Now I am in need of things to do with tomatoes, because there are plenty more coming.  It seems to me a could have planned this a bit better, but, oh well.

Last weekend, my mother called to pick my brain to get ideas for a salad involving lobster.  Off the top of my head, I suspected corn would go well, and quickly googled some ideas.  Thanks for a website called Skinny Taste, I found a gorgeous tomato, corn, and lobster salad, and this was actually the first salad I made with my own tomatoes. 

 

The pics on the website are a tad more professional, but this is what mine looked like.  I tend to go heavy on the pepper because, well, I love pepper.  The acidity of the tomatoes and hint of onion brought by the chives played well with the sweet lobster and corn.  This salad would work with crab or shrimp as well. 

I also discovered later in the weekend when I finally made my long desired caprese salad that corn is a nice addition to that as well, which made that a vegetarian variation on the lobster salad: more tomatoes, balsamic vinegar instead of lemon juice, basil instead of chives, plus bocconcini cheese.  Still lots of pepper.  The point is, corn and tomato are a nice pairing.  Isn't it convenient that they peak at the same time?

Some other things I am planning with my tomatoes:

• tomato and corn bruschetta with home made ricotta
• canning stewed red tomatoes for winter
• making and canning green tomato pickle with any fruit that doesn't ripen.
• salads, salads and more salads

I do not anticipate tiring of my bounty.

For updates, follow me on twitter!  @culinarykira

Rosy cheeks

Hello foodies,

Parents often deceive young children to get them to eat healthy foods.  There are even cookbooks about it, such as Jessica Seinfeld's Deceptively Delicious, where vegetables are sneakily added to favourites.

I experienced something similar as a child.  Not in the sense that I was given something with veggies  surreptitiously added.  I was outright lied to.  I was told that a particular vegetable would have a particular effect.  I was young.  5-ish.  And some family was visiting from out of town - my mother's cousin and aunt.  One of the veg planned for dinner was beets, and 5 year old pre-Culinary Kira was not impressed.  I was vocal about my disdain, but Aunt Marjorie stopped me in my tracks. 

First, there was the inevitable question, "Have you ever tried them?"  Of course I hadn't.  I didn't eat things I didn't think I would like, a practice I largely maintained until my late teens.  No assurances that they were really very tasty, or that they were good for me, swayed me in my enmity.  I knew my mother wouldn't force me to eat them.  I was comfortable in the knowledge that there would be other, more acceptable things for me to eat.  It was not a choice between these weirdly reddish-purple balls and starvation.  Then Aunt Marge hit upon something that was sure to catch the attention of almost any little girl.  She told me that it was really a pity I wouldn't try beets, because they are what women eat to make their cheeks rosy.

Rosy cheeks?  Like the princesses in Disney movies?  I was a pale, freckly girl (who grew into a pale, freckly adult).  Rosy cheeks were something to be desired.  I was in!  The way beets were most often presented in my house were pickled.  Not a long, canned preservation.  A quick pickle.  Boiled, cooled and submersed in vinegar for a couple of hours.  Served chilled, in a cut crystal pickle dish, very pretty against the white tablecloth. 

So 5 year old me committed to trying them.  When the time came, sure that they would be gross, but determined to achieve the desired rosy cheeked result, I took a bite.  The cool acid of the vinegar immediately appealed.  Then there was that unique blend of sweet and earthy that is typical of beets.  And a firm texture.  It turns out, I was wrong (not for the first time) when I had thought they wouldn't be something I would like.

In the last couple of years, beets have enjoyed quite a renaissance.  you see them all the time in nicer restaurants.  A memorable experience at The Courtyard in Ottawa presented the beets as faceted jewels on the plate.  I have had beet salads with quinoa, goat cheese, blue cheese, pistachios, and assortment of other ingredients.  The beets, with their dramatic colour and wonderful flavour are always the star. 

However, to this day, pickled beets are my favourite preparation, and every time I have beets, I think of my Aunt Marge, long since passed away, who tricked me into liking them.

The Byward Market, awash with beets of every variety:

Side Door

Hello Foodies,

I am back in Ottawa, my houseguests are gone, my internal batteries are recharged, and I am hoping to get back to more regular posting.

Today, I want to talk about the Side Door restaurant.

At a glance, it is not the sort of place I would particularly want to try.  Sleek decor meant to impress the trendy young professionals who seem to be the target demographic, cavernous interior, distinct sections for changes in mood (an atrium, a large outdoor patio, and the main restaurant area, which is HUGE, a large room that can be closed off for private events), an Asian fusion, small-plates driven menu.  Everything adds up to après-work singles bar, which is not something I gravitate towards.  Perhaps it is unfair of me, but my gut instinct on places like this assumes that it will be mediocre food - more about where you're eating than about what you're eating.  In this case, I am happy to say I was wrong.

What got me out to the place was Top Chef Canada, season 2.  As I mentioned in a previous post, I am a cooking competition show junkie, and Top Chef is one of my favourites.  Top Chef Canada?  Even better.  Great cooking, restaurants I don't have to leave the country to try, and patriotism all in one tidy package.  In season 2, there were two chefs from Ottawa restaurants.  Strangely enough, the two restaurants were side by side:  The Courtyard and Side Door.  When season 2 started, I had recently been to The Courtyard, so it was fresh in my mind.  But with the head chef from Side Door on the show, I knew I had to go there as well, particularly since it was also revealed that the chef in question (Jonathan Korecki) hailed from my hometown.  This automatically made him my top pick, and I must say, he did pretty well indeed, making the final.  Having been to his restaurant a few times, I can see why. 

A couple of quick observations - the lunch menu is very limited - tacos, soups, salads.  To get a full sense of the restaurant and its strengths, you need to go for dinner.  Also, the menu changes up fairly frequently, so even looking now at the menu, one dish I LOVED doesn't seem to be there anymore.  This is both a strength and a weakness that I must learn to love.  Old loves gone, but new things to try.  There are a few things that are there pretty consistently, though, from what I have seen.  The food comes out as it is ready, not necessarily to balance who ordered what or to create an overall composed dining experience - remember, the idea is small plates, largely for sharing.

Now, on to the food.

As I said, it is a small plates restaurant.  This, of course, allows you to try many things.  I have mentioned fish tacos a couple of times before, but others I have tried have been lacking.   These are not - they are by far the best fish taco I have had.  All of the tacos offered here are excellent - 5 regular varieties and a chef's special taco.  On this particular night, frequent dining companion L had the fish tacos, pictured above, and I tried the special - something called "squacon."  Squacon would be squid bacon.  Smoked, cured squid.  It was interesting, although I am not sure the smoking/curing process did much for squid's natural tendency towards rubberiness; however, as someone who applauds experimentation and outside the box thinking by restaurants, full marks for creativity on this. It did not compare to my Side Door taco favourite - the spicy beef.  What makes the tacos here fabulous is the perfect balance.  It is a delightful harmony of contrasts:  soft vs crunchy, cool vs warm (temperature), cool vs hot (spiciness), fattiness vs acid.  All served on a freshly made flour tortilla.  That tortillas are excellent quality, and are really is what ties the taco dish together.  Looking back at other fish tacos I have tried recently, my dissatisfaction has been tortilla related - dry, unappealing texture, and lacking in structural integrity.  Since I have a pic, here is the squacon, although you can't really see the meat under the toppings.

 

The next dish I'd like to talk about is the salmon rillette.  This was fantastic.  First, it is beautiful to look at.  The rillette had a beautiful texture, cool, with that rich salmon taste.  Assembling little bites using the tempura fried betel leaves and the herbs and veggies in the centre was fun, and made each bit a little different.  It was an excellent balance between portions.  You didn't finish the protein fast only to be left with a pile of less interesting veggies and herbs.  The crispy betel leaves were sturdy and made and excellent "cracker" to deliver the bites of food to your mouth without worrying it was going to end up on your lap.

Another hands down winner was the son-in-law egg.  A soft boiled egg, breaded and fried, served over a textured, crunchy rice, with radish, cilantro and topped with a spicy chili jam.  To eat, you break the egg, spilling the soft yolky goodness into the bowl and mix it all together.  Each bite has a bit of everything - rich, unctuous yolk; crunchy rice and breading from the egg; fresh, cooling cilantro; and a lovely combination of sweet and heat from the jam.  This is something I will order again and again.  Just writing about it now makes me want to return one night this week for dinner.

 

Other strong, reliable dishes include the salt and pepper calamari with chili vinegar sauce, and the house made doughnuts for dessert.

Not every dish is a home run.  Thai beef carpaccio (ordered on a previous visit, and not pictured) was, for me, too sweet and too saucy.  The point to a carpaccio is the high quality raw beef.  It should be the star, not the delivery system for a aggressive sauce.  Another dish I was so-so on was the grilled beef with butter lettuce leaf wrap and pickled veggies.  This dish was the flip side of the gloriously constructed, perfectly proportioned salmon rillette.  The beef was nicely cooked, but not intensely flavoured or spiced, which makes sense since it was served with pickled veggies.  However, given the portioning, and the more intense pickles, it got a bit lost in all the fripperies.

 

All in all, I enjoy this restaurant and am willing to keep going back to be surprised, challenged, and excited by the interesting dishes coming out of the kitchen.  And, of course, to have more, and more, and more son-in-law eggs.

To close out, the tuna sashimi ordered by frequent dining companion, L.  Another pretty, pretty dish.

 

P.S., my ruthless pruning of my tomato plants last week seems to have brought about the desired results: the plants are not dead, and I have ripening fruit on both plants!

For updates, follow me on twitter!  @culinarykira