Hello Foodies!
Last weekend was the Ottawa Wine and Food Show. A three day event where foodies can go to sample wines from around the world, beers, some spirits, local restaurants come to play by offering little bites to amuse and delight, cooking demos, tutored tastings. This year was the 30th annual show, and I was raring to go!
I usually take Friday afternoon off work to go. Not as crowded. More opportunity to chat with the various vendors and find out more about the various products. But for those who like things more lively, the evenings tend to be packed with people dressed to the nines wanting to see and be seen. Saturday and Sunday are also usually very busy. I arrive shortly after the noon opening, get my glass, get my tickets, and head to the tasting floor.
This year was the 30th annual event. So walking into the tasting floor, I was.... surprised. And initially concerned. There were considerably fewer vendors than in recent memory, and I was concerned there wasn't going to be enough to occupy me for the afternoon. Gamely, I headed to the nearest wine vendor to get a nice crisp Riesling to sip on as I wander the floor, getting the lay of the land.
The first food I chose to sample was a sturgeon trio from Acadian Sturgeon. Smoked sturgeon, sturgeon rillette, and a little spoon of caviar. It was fantastic. I have never had caviar from the Caspian Sea (Russian/Iranian), but reviews I have since read suggest that this compares quite well at a fraction of the cost. And it is sustainable. And smoked sturgeon! I need more smoked sturgeon in my life. Nice smokey flavour, not overly fishy, with a nicer texture than cold smoked (or hot smoked) salmon or trout. Good news is that this company works with Costco online and ships all over Canada.
Another delightful bite was a Caribou oyster with smoked maple syrup drizzled on it. The smokey sweet of the syrup with the salty brine of the oyster was amazing. Sorry, no pic of that one.
For me, a highlight of this year's show were the demos. Usually free, it is a good opportunity to pick up some new tricks and sample some stuff without laying down the precious tickets. It seemed to me there were more of demos this year, and they interested me more. First up was a demo by the sister chefs that were on Masterchef Canada - Marida and Narida. They made a spicy curried shrimp dish that Marida had impressed the judges with on the show. At the demo, there was a bite sized portion for everyone, but I liked it enough that I went to their booth for a larger sampling. The shrimp was fiery and cooked properly (meaning not overcooked and rubbery). The mango salsa added some sweetness and the cucumber cooled.
This was part of the overall spotlight for the year: Trinidad and Tobago. Every year, a particular country is featured, and since I like the Caribbean flavours, I was a happy girl. I also sampled a coconut bread with maraschino cherries - sounds odd, I know, but it was quite good; and codfish fritters that were delightful. There were also cocktails. I had a hibiscus tea with rum that did not disappoint.
Next demo was my favourite: entertaining with beer. In general, food and drink aficionados are overly focused on wine + food, but beer can be a very effective pairing with food - in some cases, even superior. Though this is blasphemy to many, there is an emerging school of thought that beer may be superior to wine for pairing with cheese. Something about the natural carbonation of the beer working with the fat in the cheese. But I digress... My second beer demo was all about the cheese. The first paired Beau's All Natural Brewery products with foods. Full disclosure: I have not been a big fan of Beau's beers. They're usually a little too assertive for me; not pleasant to just sit and sip. But I am now a believer.
Camembert cheese with a spicy, fruit chutney, more delightful smoked sturgeon, and a bratwurst in pastry. What struck me is how much better each and every beer was with the food. We sipped the beer first, and then sampled the beer and pairing together. It was jaw dropping. I have experienced that symbiosis a couple of times with food and wine, but not like this. In particular, the Camembert paired with the Lug Tread Ale was a revelation (giving credence to the beer is better with cheese than wine argument). With the smoked sturgeon, we had a Nordic-style pale ale. Awash with India Pale Ale, I was not expecting to like it. I am not a fan of IPAs. First, the beer itself I preferred to IPAs; second, again, it played so well with the food. The third pairing was a Marzen with the brat in a blanket. Again, awesome. So much so that I am going to have to host a little dinner with some friends where each course is paired with beer. So, lesson learned. Beer is not just for wings, pizza and nachos.
Other winners were:
Porchetta slider: everything that is good in the world on a bun with a bit of slaw. All the best parts of the pork - the belly, the skin, the meat, stuffed with spices and rolled and slooooooow roasted.
A bourbon sweet tea cocktail, from Hooch's Bourbon House.
All in all, I did not mind that the event was smaller this year. The essentials were there. Some of the chaff that had crept in over the years was not. I always prefer quality over quantity. I went from being concerned about there not being enough there to interest me to staying longer than I ever have in the past. I highly recommend this event. Next year, I may even take it on the road. I have heard there is an epic event in Montreal every fall.
Every year, I sample all I want and then return to my best bite to have my closing taste. This year, it was the caviar. I got a nice sparkly cava (sparkling wine being very traditional to pair with caviar), and got three decadent spoons of caviar to finish off my tickets. So, I leave you with my final bite.
For observations and updates, follow me on twitter! @culinarykira
Sunday, 8 November 2015
Sunday, 4 October 2015
My Great Experiment: Weekday Vegetarianism
Hello Foodies!
Last May, I was deep into Netflix, watching a series of TED Talks on food. There were talks on being a locavore, on sustainability, on the history of bread, on the wide gap between the countries that have plenty and those that do not. One that actually impacted me personally was a short, short talk - only about 5 minutes long - by Graham Hill on weekday vegetarianism.
I am a lover of meat. I do not believe those who say humans were intended to be vegetarian. This is demonstrably false - our big expensive brains developed because of our penchant for high quality, fatty animal protein. I suffer from no ethical quandaries about animals giving up their lives to taste delicious on my plate (although I do buy ethically sourced meat). Nor do I believe that vegetarianism is healthier than being an omnivore. What I do believe, and what this episode explained so succinctly, is that factory farming the way it is done now is environmentally unsustainable. The water and energy used to get our burgers, steaks and ribs to our plates is insanely wasteful. I also believe that I certainly, and probably almost everyone in North America, eats far more meat than we actually need - conservatively, in the neighbourhood of 7 times more. That's right, we eat as much in a day as we need in an entire week, and then eat the same (at least) the day after.
So, after watching this talk, I decided to give it a try.
I set up my parameters - from Monday breakfast to Friday lunch, I was going to eat largely vegetarian. Fish could be an occasional indulgence. Friday dinner through Sunday dinner, I would have whatever I liked. I also had a restaurant clause, meaning that if I were out for a meal during the week, I could order what I liked, BUT if I ordered in I had to stick to the program. And during my week of vacation in August, I also lifted the meat ban.
It was hard at first. Veggie dishes just don't offer the same flavour and satiety as that little bit of animal protein offers. I discovered early on that to satisfy my taste buds, I could turn to Indian cooking. I took to making baingain bharta, a fiery, roasted eggplant curry. This gave me lunches to take to work. I experimented with chickpeas and bulger wheat for salads - I didn't want to go meatless by simply having pasta for every meal. I became adept at making vegetable hashes - beets, corn, carrots and peppers hashed together and served with a fried egg is quite satisfying. I discovered that a falafel sandwich can be pretty good.
I sought out television segments on vegetarian cooking. I tried a whole roasted celeriac recipe of Jamie Oliver's. It wasn't bad. I turned to a simple summer soup recipe from a TV segment I saw last summer. A chilled corn soup, with a shrimp salad. This was a real winner.
This endeavour has made me more creative with the ingredients. I have done more with corn and beets than ever before. Previously, I ate corn on the cob in the summer. Beets I boiled, then ate cold with vinegar. But now there are just so many options! Tonight, granted, Sunday, a meat night, I am having a beet and carrot fritter along with some duck. I have been using more fruit as well, and this has led me to more baking, my most successful creation being a peach, blueberry and (my new twist) Camembert pie.
As the weeks of summer rolled on, I found myself missing the meat less, and turning to fish to get me through less during the week. Don't get me wrong, I still anticipate Friday night, when I now almost always have some sort of beef. But through the weekend it is not meat-a-palooza. I have meat with dinner, but for other meals it doesn't always make it to my plate.
I have also spent less money. Not necessarily because fresh veggies are so much less costly than meat I (though undoubtedly there have been some savings there), but because I simply can't be as lazy. I order in less frequently. And when I do have meat... I do not skimp at all. Best quality. Since I am buying less, I am even more diligent about making sure what I buy is ethically sourced.
I would rule my experiment a success, but as the farmer's markets close up shop for the winter, and and the embarrassment of riches that is the summer and early fall selection of high quality fresh veggies dries up, am I going to continue? The answer is, I am going to try. There are winter squashes coming in to stores. And I can make a mean broccoli and cheddar soup. Cauliflower is one of my vegetable loves. So there are options. I will keep you posted on the results.
For observations and updates, follow me on twitter @culinarykira
Last May, I was deep into Netflix, watching a series of TED Talks on food. There were talks on being a locavore, on sustainability, on the history of bread, on the wide gap between the countries that have plenty and those that do not. One that actually impacted me personally was a short, short talk - only about 5 minutes long - by Graham Hill on weekday vegetarianism.
I am a lover of meat. I do not believe those who say humans were intended to be vegetarian. This is demonstrably false - our big expensive brains developed because of our penchant for high quality, fatty animal protein. I suffer from no ethical quandaries about animals giving up their lives to taste delicious on my plate (although I do buy ethically sourced meat). Nor do I believe that vegetarianism is healthier than being an omnivore. What I do believe, and what this episode explained so succinctly, is that factory farming the way it is done now is environmentally unsustainable. The water and energy used to get our burgers, steaks and ribs to our plates is insanely wasteful. I also believe that I certainly, and probably almost everyone in North America, eats far more meat than we actually need - conservatively, in the neighbourhood of 7 times more. That's right, we eat as much in a day as we need in an entire week, and then eat the same (at least) the day after.
So, after watching this talk, I decided to give it a try.
I set up my parameters - from Monday breakfast to Friday lunch, I was going to eat largely vegetarian. Fish could be an occasional indulgence. Friday dinner through Sunday dinner, I would have whatever I liked. I also had a restaurant clause, meaning that if I were out for a meal during the week, I could order what I liked, BUT if I ordered in I had to stick to the program. And during my week of vacation in August, I also lifted the meat ban.
It was hard at first. Veggie dishes just don't offer the same flavour and satiety as that little bit of animal protein offers. I discovered early on that to satisfy my taste buds, I could turn to Indian cooking. I took to making baingain bharta, a fiery, roasted eggplant curry. This gave me lunches to take to work. I experimented with chickpeas and bulger wheat for salads - I didn't want to go meatless by simply having pasta for every meal. I became adept at making vegetable hashes - beets, corn, carrots and peppers hashed together and served with a fried egg is quite satisfying. I discovered that a falafel sandwich can be pretty good.
I sought out television segments on vegetarian cooking. I tried a whole roasted celeriac recipe of Jamie Oliver's. It wasn't bad. I turned to a simple summer soup recipe from a TV segment I saw last summer. A chilled corn soup, with a shrimp salad. This was a real winner.
This endeavour has made me more creative with the ingredients. I have done more with corn and beets than ever before. Previously, I ate corn on the cob in the summer. Beets I boiled, then ate cold with vinegar. But now there are just so many options! Tonight, granted, Sunday, a meat night, I am having a beet and carrot fritter along with some duck. I have been using more fruit as well, and this has led me to more baking, my most successful creation being a peach, blueberry and (my new twist) Camembert pie.
As the weeks of summer rolled on, I found myself missing the meat less, and turning to fish to get me through less during the week. Don't get me wrong, I still anticipate Friday night, when I now almost always have some sort of beef. But through the weekend it is not meat-a-palooza. I have meat with dinner, but for other meals it doesn't always make it to my plate.
I have also spent less money. Not necessarily because fresh veggies are so much less costly than meat I (though undoubtedly there have been some savings there), but because I simply can't be as lazy. I order in less frequently. And when I do have meat... I do not skimp at all. Best quality. Since I am buying less, I am even more diligent about making sure what I buy is ethically sourced.
I would rule my experiment a success, but as the farmer's markets close up shop for the winter, and and the embarrassment of riches that is the summer and early fall selection of high quality fresh veggies dries up, am I going to continue? The answer is, I am going to try. There are winter squashes coming in to stores. And I can make a mean broccoli and cheddar soup. Cauliflower is one of my vegetable loves. So there are options. I will keep you posted on the results.
For observations and updates, follow me on twitter @culinarykira
Saturday, 29 August 2015
Mystery Box
Hello foodies!
Before I get sucked back into the vortex that is Battlestar Galactica (how did I not watch this show years ago??), I thought I would tell you about a cooking event I attended this week.
I have mentioned before how much I love cooking competition shows. Consistently one of my favourites is Chopped, where competing chefs get a basket of mystery ingredients they have to make into a creative, cohesive dish. This has always been appealing to me, and The Urban Element, an Ottawa company offering various cooking classes and culinary experiences out of a converted fire hall on Parkdale put on just such an event, giving me the opportunity to test my skills.
Making the event particularly fun, I was joined by my friend, S, who arranged a little family vacation in Ottawa to coincide with the event. Class attendees work in pairs, and this event had 6 pairs, and two different baskets, reducing the risk there would be 6 versions of the same dish. The chefs running the event (Anna and Devin) gave some tips at the beginning, and then each pair claimed a workstation and the chefs handed out the baskets. Our basket immediately pleased me: scallops, corn, and the curve ball, white miso paste. The other basket was trout, fennel, and ruby red grapefruit.
In addition to the mystery ingredients, there was a very nice pantry available, containing herbs, spices, some lovely veggies, rices, grains, vinegars, liquors, and almost anything else you might want.
It is interesting how your mind starts spinning when confronted with a challenge like this. I have been eating a lot of corn soup this summer, and I thought maybe a miso glazed scallop, playing on one of my favourite dishes, miso glazed black cod, but then that didn't seem cohesive enough - it would be two separate things, rather than a composed dish, and how would we plate? A scallop swimming in soup? With some discussion, we decided on seared scallops, corn salsa, and a ginger miso broth, garnished with scallops' (and everyone's) good friend, bacon.
Once that was decided, we kicked into high gear. We started the water for the corn, S diced the bacon (showing meticulous knife skills) and started it rendering in a pan, while I got working on the salsa. Shallots, cute little bell peppers, juicy heirloom tomatoes, salt and pepper, lime juice. It seemed to be missing something, but I wasn't sure my go-to salsa herb - cilantro - would go with the the overall dish. With the way I have been eating this summer - Mexican, Mexican and more Mexican - I connected cilantro with that style of food, not known for its use of miso. But one of the chefs pointed out that cilantro also plays a big role in Asian cooking, so in it went, as well as some lime zest, and that brightened the salsa nicely.
We had shellfish stock available to us, and as I fiddled with the salsa, S got going on our ginger miso broth. Rough cut ginger into the warming broth to infuse, and as it started to simmer, in went the miso. After we tasted it, we decided that the miso was a little too subtle, and doubled our previous amount. Better.... but still missing something. So we added lime juice, and that was the key. It added a bright zing to the taste, and tied it in so well with the flavours in the salsa.
Our last cooking task was searing the scallops, which we left as late as possible. Scallops are delicate, a matter of seconds can overcook them, leaving them rubbery and disappointing. I had thought maybe using the rendered bacon grease would be a good vehicle for searing, but the chef said that it wouldn't work - you can't get it hot enough. So, a thin coating of canola oil in a screaming hot heavy pan, and in went the scallops, which we seasoned simply earlier with salt and pepper. I think where people go wrong with something like searing scallops is in being too fussy and concerned. Let them go until they detach themselves from the pan. At that point, they have a nice crust and are ready to flip. Just a few seconds on the other side and then out. Always remember that proteins continue cooking when taken off the heat, so always take them off before they're done the way you want them. Our scallops were perfect - nice crust outside, still translucent in the centre.
Our dish was supposed to be beautiful as well as tasty. These were small appetizer servings, so we plated in a small bowl. There was a mound of corn salsa rising from the centre, with crispy cubes of bacon on top. We had to make 13 bowls with 11 scallops, so we quartered the scallops to apportion them out. It worked out particularly well because one of the other pairs was unable to eat pork, so they got a little extra scallop to make up for the lack of bacon. They rested on top, with a garnish of a slice of hot red Thai chili, and a fresh green pea shoot. The broth, strained and still warm, was gently spooned around the salsa mound.
Our finished product:
The cooking took about 90 minutes, including planning and plating. After the cook, we took our seats at the bar ringing the kitchen, and the UE staff served us our choice of red or white wine. Given the seafood focus, I went with white. The UE house wines are made by Stratus, a vineyard in Niagara on the Lake, and one of my favourites in Ontario.
We started with what was my favourite of the trout dishes, a fishcake that used mashed potatoes as a binder, with sauteed fennel and a ruby red grapefruit based sauce, garnished with a fennel frond. The fishcake was great - excellent texture and moisture level, well seasoned. This was a cohesive dish, rather than a series of unconnected components on a plate, everything fit, and I liked the colour contrast introduced with the sauce. It was definitely one of the most popular of the night. I have since made a trout fishcake using potatoes as the binder, and it is definitely something I will make again.
Next was ours, which was, in my opinion, the best of the scallop dishes. Naturally, I am going to favour ours, but, objectively, it was the most cohesive, with everything working together in harmony. S noted that, while she had thought that some of the individual components were too strong, or not to her taste, when you put everything together it worked and tasted really good. To me, that is exactly what we wanted. The components were better together. There were colour and texture variations, all of the mystery box ingredients were distinct, yet worked harmoniously with everything else in the dish. Another pic to remind you:
There was another scallop dish that was, conceptually, quite similar to ours: corn, tomatoes, broth, seared scallops and bacon. In my view, however, this was the weakest of the scallop dishes, largely because the addition of sesame oil overpowered all of the other flavours on the dish, making it feel heavy. We completely lost the sweetness and beauty of the fresh corn. To handle the 11 scallops to 13 plates, they sliced the scallops into disks, but then overcooked them. The corn was grilled rather than boiled, but didn't have much char. The bacon was paler, not rendered as much, and therefore didn't offer either texture or colour to the dish. The dish seemed beige - no pop.
The third scallop dish had what I consider the most creative choice. Scallop ceviche, and the impressive creativity was in mixing miso with avocado and lime juice, with a corn salad on the side. The dish was very fresh and pretty, and the ceviche was well done, but there was a little too much of the avocado-miso mixture relative to the ceviche. The corn salad was also very good, but seemed a little unconnected to the ceviche/avocado-miso. I think the corn could have been incorporated effectively into the ceviche for a more cohesive dish.
That left the last two trout dishes. The first was a baked trout over a potato croquette, with pickled fennel shoots on top, a pickled fennel and shallot slaw on the side, and a ruby red grapefruit salsa. The trout was well cooked, though a little under-seasoned. The potato croquette, using both white potatoes and sweet potatoes was excellent. Both the slaw and the salsa were also good, but it added up to a lot of acidity and pickle on the plate. It also seemed a bit like unconnected components on a plate rather than a truly cohesive dish.
The final dish used some different flavours - Middle Eastern flavours. Za'atar, sumac. The fennel was mixed with yogurt for a cooling sauce The trout was baked over a bed of sliced grapefruit, keeping it moist and infusing flavour. And they made little potato chips for texture, and, as they said, who doesn't like potato chips? Each component was good, and it was a pretty dish overall.
The idea was that the 6 small appetizer portions would add up to a large appetizer bordering on main course. After, they served us a salad with bitter greens (which I love), some chevre, candied pecan, and a nice vinaigrette, followed by a strawberry rhubarb crumble with coconut ice cream for dessert. the ice cream was subtle in its coconuttiness, which I prefer.
This was a super fun event. Exhilarating. I feel accomplished coming up with a dish I think is top notch. In fact, I am making it again this weekend, this time with shellfish stock made from scratch. Although the class description said that the class was for advanced cooks, I think that intermediate cooks can do well, too. Even a relatively inexperienced cook (as S is), when paired with an advanced cook (like me). The chefs are there to make your time fun, and are a great help if you need a little steering in the right direction, help with a technique, or a suggestion on how to perfect a dish.
A few words on The Urban Element... I have been taking recreational cooking classes here for several years, and recommend it to anyone who has a love of food and likes to spend time learning new recipes and techniques with like minded people. Most classes have a theme - a skill, an ingredient, a style of food - and I have picked up both skills and recipes that I have incorporated into my daily cooking. There are also demonstration dinners, where you gather around the kitchen and watch as a noted chef works wonders with an ingredient. They post their class schedule in 4 month blocks, and the September to December schedule is now available.
For observations and updates, follow me on twitter @culinarykira !
Before I get sucked back into the vortex that is Battlestar Galactica (how did I not watch this show years ago??), I thought I would tell you about a cooking event I attended this week.
I have mentioned before how much I love cooking competition shows. Consistently one of my favourites is Chopped, where competing chefs get a basket of mystery ingredients they have to make into a creative, cohesive dish. This has always been appealing to me, and The Urban Element, an Ottawa company offering various cooking classes and culinary experiences out of a converted fire hall on Parkdale put on just such an event, giving me the opportunity to test my skills.
Making the event particularly fun, I was joined by my friend, S, who arranged a little family vacation in Ottawa to coincide with the event. Class attendees work in pairs, and this event had 6 pairs, and two different baskets, reducing the risk there would be 6 versions of the same dish. The chefs running the event (Anna and Devin) gave some tips at the beginning, and then each pair claimed a workstation and the chefs handed out the baskets. Our basket immediately pleased me: scallops, corn, and the curve ball, white miso paste. The other basket was trout, fennel, and ruby red grapefruit.
In addition to the mystery ingredients, there was a very nice pantry available, containing herbs, spices, some lovely veggies, rices, grains, vinegars, liquors, and almost anything else you might want.
It is interesting how your mind starts spinning when confronted with a challenge like this. I have been eating a lot of corn soup this summer, and I thought maybe a miso glazed scallop, playing on one of my favourite dishes, miso glazed black cod, but then that didn't seem cohesive enough - it would be two separate things, rather than a composed dish, and how would we plate? A scallop swimming in soup? With some discussion, we decided on seared scallops, corn salsa, and a ginger miso broth, garnished with scallops' (and everyone's) good friend, bacon.
Once that was decided, we kicked into high gear. We started the water for the corn, S diced the bacon (showing meticulous knife skills) and started it rendering in a pan, while I got working on the salsa. Shallots, cute little bell peppers, juicy heirloom tomatoes, salt and pepper, lime juice. It seemed to be missing something, but I wasn't sure my go-to salsa herb - cilantro - would go with the the overall dish. With the way I have been eating this summer - Mexican, Mexican and more Mexican - I connected cilantro with that style of food, not known for its use of miso. But one of the chefs pointed out that cilantro also plays a big role in Asian cooking, so in it went, as well as some lime zest, and that brightened the salsa nicely.
We had shellfish stock available to us, and as I fiddled with the salsa, S got going on our ginger miso broth. Rough cut ginger into the warming broth to infuse, and as it started to simmer, in went the miso. After we tasted it, we decided that the miso was a little too subtle, and doubled our previous amount. Better.... but still missing something. So we added lime juice, and that was the key. It added a bright zing to the taste, and tied it in so well with the flavours in the salsa.
Our last cooking task was searing the scallops, which we left as late as possible. Scallops are delicate, a matter of seconds can overcook them, leaving them rubbery and disappointing. I had thought maybe using the rendered bacon grease would be a good vehicle for searing, but the chef said that it wouldn't work - you can't get it hot enough. So, a thin coating of canola oil in a screaming hot heavy pan, and in went the scallops, which we seasoned simply earlier with salt and pepper. I think where people go wrong with something like searing scallops is in being too fussy and concerned. Let them go until they detach themselves from the pan. At that point, they have a nice crust and are ready to flip. Just a few seconds on the other side and then out. Always remember that proteins continue cooking when taken off the heat, so always take them off before they're done the way you want them. Our scallops were perfect - nice crust outside, still translucent in the centre.
Our dish was supposed to be beautiful as well as tasty. These were small appetizer servings, so we plated in a small bowl. There was a mound of corn salsa rising from the centre, with crispy cubes of bacon on top. We had to make 13 bowls with 11 scallops, so we quartered the scallops to apportion them out. It worked out particularly well because one of the other pairs was unable to eat pork, so they got a little extra scallop to make up for the lack of bacon. They rested on top, with a garnish of a slice of hot red Thai chili, and a fresh green pea shoot. The broth, strained and still warm, was gently spooned around the salsa mound.
Our finished product:
The cooking took about 90 minutes, including planning and plating. After the cook, we took our seats at the bar ringing the kitchen, and the UE staff served us our choice of red or white wine. Given the seafood focus, I went with white. The UE house wines are made by Stratus, a vineyard in Niagara on the Lake, and one of my favourites in Ontario.
We started with what was my favourite of the trout dishes, a fishcake that used mashed potatoes as a binder, with sauteed fennel and a ruby red grapefruit based sauce, garnished with a fennel frond. The fishcake was great - excellent texture and moisture level, well seasoned. This was a cohesive dish, rather than a series of unconnected components on a plate, everything fit, and I liked the colour contrast introduced with the sauce. It was definitely one of the most popular of the night. I have since made a trout fishcake using potatoes as the binder, and it is definitely something I will make again.
Next was ours, which was, in my opinion, the best of the scallop dishes. Naturally, I am going to favour ours, but, objectively, it was the most cohesive, with everything working together in harmony. S noted that, while she had thought that some of the individual components were too strong, or not to her taste, when you put everything together it worked and tasted really good. To me, that is exactly what we wanted. The components were better together. There were colour and texture variations, all of the mystery box ingredients were distinct, yet worked harmoniously with everything else in the dish. Another pic to remind you:
There was another scallop dish that was, conceptually, quite similar to ours: corn, tomatoes, broth, seared scallops and bacon. In my view, however, this was the weakest of the scallop dishes, largely because the addition of sesame oil overpowered all of the other flavours on the dish, making it feel heavy. We completely lost the sweetness and beauty of the fresh corn. To handle the 11 scallops to 13 plates, they sliced the scallops into disks, but then overcooked them. The corn was grilled rather than boiled, but didn't have much char. The bacon was paler, not rendered as much, and therefore didn't offer either texture or colour to the dish. The dish seemed beige - no pop.
The third scallop dish had what I consider the most creative choice. Scallop ceviche, and the impressive creativity was in mixing miso with avocado and lime juice, with a corn salad on the side. The dish was very fresh and pretty, and the ceviche was well done, but there was a little too much of the avocado-miso mixture relative to the ceviche. The corn salad was also very good, but seemed a little unconnected to the ceviche/avocado-miso. I think the corn could have been incorporated effectively into the ceviche for a more cohesive dish.
That left the last two trout dishes. The first was a baked trout over a potato croquette, with pickled fennel shoots on top, a pickled fennel and shallot slaw on the side, and a ruby red grapefruit salsa. The trout was well cooked, though a little under-seasoned. The potato croquette, using both white potatoes and sweet potatoes was excellent. Both the slaw and the salsa were also good, but it added up to a lot of acidity and pickle on the plate. It also seemed a bit like unconnected components on a plate rather than a truly cohesive dish.
The final dish used some different flavours - Middle Eastern flavours. Za'atar, sumac. The fennel was mixed with yogurt for a cooling sauce The trout was baked over a bed of sliced grapefruit, keeping it moist and infusing flavour. And they made little potato chips for texture, and, as they said, who doesn't like potato chips? Each component was good, and it was a pretty dish overall.
The idea was that the 6 small appetizer portions would add up to a large appetizer bordering on main course. After, they served us a salad with bitter greens (which I love), some chevre, candied pecan, and a nice vinaigrette, followed by a strawberry rhubarb crumble with coconut ice cream for dessert. the ice cream was subtle in its coconuttiness, which I prefer.
This was a super fun event. Exhilarating. I feel accomplished coming up with a dish I think is top notch. In fact, I am making it again this weekend, this time with shellfish stock made from scratch. Although the class description said that the class was for advanced cooks, I think that intermediate cooks can do well, too. Even a relatively inexperienced cook (as S is), when paired with an advanced cook (like me). The chefs are there to make your time fun, and are a great help if you need a little steering in the right direction, help with a technique, or a suggestion on how to perfect a dish.
A few words on The Urban Element... I have been taking recreational cooking classes here for several years, and recommend it to anyone who has a love of food and likes to spend time learning new recipes and techniques with like minded people. Most classes have a theme - a skill, an ingredient, a style of food - and I have picked up both skills and recipes that I have incorporated into my daily cooking. There are also demonstration dinners, where you gather around the kitchen and watch as a noted chef works wonders with an ingredient. They post their class schedule in 4 month blocks, and the September to December schedule is now available.
For observations and updates, follow me on twitter @culinarykira !
Monday, 20 July 2015
Dumplings Make Me Happy
Hello foodies,
I love dumplings. They make me smile. The word itself is a happy word. Try and say it without feeling a little lift in your mood. Without a smile. It is a word that contains warmth, deliciousness and comfort. It is a word that is an endearment.
In addition to happiness, dumplings also imply diversity - great diversity. Most cultures have some version of dumplings - ravioli, pierogi, empanadas. Doughy, pillowy dumplings like gnocchi or those cloud-like biscuits that steam and float atop stew. The dumplings I am going to talk about today are Chinese style dumplings, specifically, those balanced, sumptuous little morsels known familiarly to North Americans as "potstickers."
I am not going to pretend to have a vast knowledge of the history and types of Chinese dumplings. Suffice it to say, there are many, many variations. Steamed, boiled, fried; any filling you can think of, but always flavourful. My dumplings are pork and cabbage. I have tried making shrimp filled dumplings, but I have not gotten the texture of the filling quite right. These dumplings can be steamed, boiled, fried, or cooked as I do, a kind of cross between steaming and frying that, I think, allows for the best of both worlds.
Making dumplings is fun. Particularly with a group of people. I first learned about making them way back in university from an international student living on my floor in residence. He would bring all the fixings into the common room, and feed anyone who was there, showing us how the dumplings were made. Since then I have participated in other dumpling events, as well as making them with my own family as a Saturday afternoon treat.
The first step is prepping the cabbage. This is done by thinly slicing/shredding Napa cabbage (the kind with the crinkly leaves), and salting it. In addition to providing a base level of seasoning for the dumplings, it draws the water out of the cabbage. So place the shredded cabbage in a strainer in the sink, generously salt it, and let it sit for a while. the leaves will soften, the water will come out, and then you will be able to pick up handfuls of the cabbage, squeeze even more water out - as much as you can - and transfer to a large mixing bowl.
To the drained and squeezed cabbage, add the pork and mix together until well combined. Also standard are scallions, finely sliced, green parts and all. Then the seasoning starts. A drizzle of sesame oil. Some seasoned rice vinegar. I usually divide the mix at this point so I can make different flavour profiles - some with coriander, some with ginger and garlic, but all finely chopped and well incorporated into the mix.
Above you can see the filling and what you'll need to start assembling the dumplings. On the lower right are the wrappers. These can be found at any Asian grocery, but the wonton wrappers found in most mainstream groceries will do as well. On the lower left is a cup of water, which is needed to sealing the dumplings. To fill, you lay one of the wrappers across your palm and put about a tsp of filling in the centre - you want to be careful not to overfill because you want a good seal. Then, dip your finger in the water and trace your wet finger around the outer centimetre or so of the wrapper. Fold over, so watered edges meet and press together, crimping/pleating as you go along. Ideally, you want as little air in there as possible. Place on a plate with the seal up and keep filling.
Once you're done filling, the dumplings can be frozen in this state - put them on a tray or plate lined with parchment paper so that the dumplings are not touching each other, and freeze. Once frozen, place in a freezer bag and you have dumplings ready to go that can be easily cooked from frozen at any time. But who wants to go to all that work just to freeze the product for later? I am a big believer in quality control, so you have to cook at least one pan.
I coat the bottom of a pan with a mixture of a neutral oil, like grapeseed oil, and sesame oil. Then, although in every other instance when frying you shouldn't do this, you crowd the pan. Place the dumplings in the pan touching each other, flat bottoms to the oil, pleated seals up.
Turn the heat on medium-high and let the bottoms start to crisp up. Once you have some frying action going, and the bottoms are starting to get crispy, add some water, cover tightly and reduce the heat. The water should come part way up the sides of the dumplings, but not cover them.
Let the water simmer away until the frying sound starts again. If cooking from frozen, you may need to add a bit more water to make sure they are cooked through. Slide off onto a plate, and voila! I make a little sauce of rice vinegar, sesame oil, and soy sauce to dip them in. This too, is flexible. You could add a chili oil, or a bit of siracha, scallions, fish sauce... anything you want really. Some vinegar, though, is key for me.
For updates and observations, follow me on Twitter @culinarykira !
I love dumplings. They make me smile. The word itself is a happy word. Try and say it without feeling a little lift in your mood. Without a smile. It is a word that contains warmth, deliciousness and comfort. It is a word that is an endearment.
In addition to happiness, dumplings also imply diversity - great diversity. Most cultures have some version of dumplings - ravioli, pierogi, empanadas. Doughy, pillowy dumplings like gnocchi or those cloud-like biscuits that steam and float atop stew. The dumplings I am going to talk about today are Chinese style dumplings, specifically, those balanced, sumptuous little morsels known familiarly to North Americans as "potstickers."
I am not going to pretend to have a vast knowledge of the history and types of Chinese dumplings. Suffice it to say, there are many, many variations. Steamed, boiled, fried; any filling you can think of, but always flavourful. My dumplings are pork and cabbage. I have tried making shrimp filled dumplings, but I have not gotten the texture of the filling quite right. These dumplings can be steamed, boiled, fried, or cooked as I do, a kind of cross between steaming and frying that, I think, allows for the best of both worlds.
Making dumplings is fun. Particularly with a group of people. I first learned about making them way back in university from an international student living on my floor in residence. He would bring all the fixings into the common room, and feed anyone who was there, showing us how the dumplings were made. Since then I have participated in other dumpling events, as well as making them with my own family as a Saturday afternoon treat.
The first step is prepping the cabbage. This is done by thinly slicing/shredding Napa cabbage (the kind with the crinkly leaves), and salting it. In addition to providing a base level of seasoning for the dumplings, it draws the water out of the cabbage. So place the shredded cabbage in a strainer in the sink, generously salt it, and let it sit for a while. the leaves will soften, the water will come out, and then you will be able to pick up handfuls of the cabbage, squeeze even more water out - as much as you can - and transfer to a large mixing bowl.
To the drained and squeezed cabbage, add the pork and mix together until well combined. Also standard are scallions, finely sliced, green parts and all. Then the seasoning starts. A drizzle of sesame oil. Some seasoned rice vinegar. I usually divide the mix at this point so I can make different flavour profiles - some with coriander, some with ginger and garlic, but all finely chopped and well incorporated into the mix.
Above you can see the filling and what you'll need to start assembling the dumplings. On the lower right are the wrappers. These can be found at any Asian grocery, but the wonton wrappers found in most mainstream groceries will do as well. On the lower left is a cup of water, which is needed to sealing the dumplings. To fill, you lay one of the wrappers across your palm and put about a tsp of filling in the centre - you want to be careful not to overfill because you want a good seal. Then, dip your finger in the water and trace your wet finger around the outer centimetre or so of the wrapper. Fold over, so watered edges meet and press together, crimping/pleating as you go along. Ideally, you want as little air in there as possible. Place on a plate with the seal up and keep filling.
Once you're done filling, the dumplings can be frozen in this state - put them on a tray or plate lined with parchment paper so that the dumplings are not touching each other, and freeze. Once frozen, place in a freezer bag and you have dumplings ready to go that can be easily cooked from frozen at any time. But who wants to go to all that work just to freeze the product for later? I am a big believer in quality control, so you have to cook at least one pan.
I coat the bottom of a pan with a mixture of a neutral oil, like grapeseed oil, and sesame oil. Then, although in every other instance when frying you shouldn't do this, you crowd the pan. Place the dumplings in the pan touching each other, flat bottoms to the oil, pleated seals up.
Turn the heat on medium-high and let the bottoms start to crisp up. Once you have some frying action going, and the bottoms are starting to get crispy, add some water, cover tightly and reduce the heat. The water should come part way up the sides of the dumplings, but not cover them.
Let the water simmer away until the frying sound starts again. If cooking from frozen, you may need to add a bit more water to make sure they are cooked through. Slide off onto a plate, and voila! I make a little sauce of rice vinegar, sesame oil, and soy sauce to dip them in. This too, is flexible. You could add a chili oil, or a bit of siracha, scallions, fish sauce... anything you want really. Some vinegar, though, is key for me.
For updates and observations, follow me on Twitter @culinarykira !
Sunday, 26 April 2015
The Whalesbone
Hello foodies,
Early on this blog, I said there were three** fish restaurants in Ottawa that were worth it. The first two, The Pelican Fishery and Grill and Lapointe's, I have already reviewed. It is now time to comment on the third - The Whalesbone.
** Since I started this blog, a couple more places have arrived on the scene: the Elmdale Oyster House and Tavern, which is connected with The Whalesbone, and which I highly recommend; and Supply and Demand - haven't tried that one yet, but I have heard good things.
The Whalesbone has a speakeasy feel - a laid back, welcoming atmosphere. It is small, the space dominated by the bar. There is one large table in the front, a booth in the back, a bench seating with small tables along the side opposite the bar, and the seating at the bar. Walls are exposed brick, chalkboards tell you about desserts and oyster or other features. When busy, and it is often busy, it can be quite noisy, and if you're going at prime meal time, I strongly recommend reservations. Service is friendly and knowledgeable. Their thing is sustainable seafood, which is great; therefore, this isn't the place to go for rare, premium, or overfished stock. Their product is caught or farmed from sustainable fisheries, and the quality is impeccable.
I visited on Friday for lunch, and also looked into my archives for pictures from a dinner last fall.
I don't usually comment on bread and butter, but... the bread was good, and the butter great. It was whipped brown butter. I love brown butter.
This is an oyster house, so for pictures (and eating) I had to start with the oysters. They are 12 for $35, or 18 for $50. Or $3.25 apiece. And they are marvelous. Well shucked - meaning no bits of shell or grit, beautifully presented. On this day, I actually got a baker's dozen - there was a single lonely Virginian oyster that was added to my platter. I gave it a good home. From the top, there are oysters from New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, and completely bordered by lemon, a lone Virginian. I like it when the oysters come from different places, because you can better appreciate the variations. The New Brunswick oysters had that sharp brininess I like, as did the BC oysters. The BC were meatier - though small, they were more substantial. I also liked their ripply, scalloped shells. Very pretty. Served with lemon, as you can see, and fresh grated horseradish, which I LOVE. Also, you can see in the top left corner part of the caddy of sauces. A traditional mignonette and a HOT sauce made with scotch bonnet peppers, as well as cocktail sauce, a couple of bottled sauces, and some aged scotch. I tried scotch bonnet sauce and scotch as well as the mignonette. I always like the mignonette best - it is what I make when I have oysters at home (I cannot shuck nearly as well - invariably I drive bits of shell into the oyster). For me, the scotch takes away from the oyster, where the mignonette enhances it. But to each their own. I selected the Clocktower Oyster Stout to have with my oysters. Stout and oysters are a classic, classic pairing. Usually I go with Guinness, but since Clocktower (local microbrewery/brew pub) brews this specifically for oysters, incorporating crushed oyster shells into their process, I had to give it a try. It was a good match, the shells adding a hint of the brine to the beer as well.
I followed my oysters with seared tuna.
The tuna was beautiful. Cooked perfectly - light sear on the outside, rare rare rare on the inside. Served with potatoes, radishes, beans, and an orange-mustard compote. Kind of marmaladey. It was a sharp contrast to the smooth flavour balance of everything else. It was good, and took the dish to the next level, but I could have done with a bit less of that part on my plate. It threatened to take over, but I liked that there was something unusual and thought-provoking.
On a previous visit, I had a mixed shellfish app. Fried clams with pickled onion and creme fraiche, baked oysters, and some mussels. Though I generally prefer them raw, the oysters were not overdone, and the mussels were a much better version of something I loved as a kid - nostalgia! Prepare for a digression.
Although I was generally a picky eater, as a kid there were certain things I prided myself on loving, often things the my dad loved, and that other kids, particularly my brothers and sister, thought were disgusting. This is how I came to be an 8 year old who would not touch rice, and wouldn't eat potatoes if they were mashed (I know, I was weird), but loved blood pudding and liverwurst. Another thing I loved in all forms I could find it was fish, and shellfish. I was not the kid would only eat The Captain's fish sticks. I would eat fillets. I loved the canned smoked oysters on crackers we'd have at New Year's. And I loved the pickled mussels in a red sauce that my mother bought as an occasional treat for her and I on a Saturday. We'd come home from the Saturday shop and crack open the jar, each with a fork, and go to town on those firm, chewy, piquant pickled mussels. End of digression.
This lobster risotto was ordered by my dining companion, L. As you can see, it was beautiful to look at, and they didn't skimp on the lobster. She enjoyed the risotto, and also had a sesame tuna dish:
Gorgeous, as you can see, with sesame seed crusted tuna with some fresh veg - cucumbers, microgreens, an edible flower, croutons, some creme fraiche, with sauce and balsamic drizzles decorating the plate.
The Whalesbone is more than just a restaurant. A couple of blocks away, they have a fish market where you can get fresh and smoked fish, oyster platters for home (or where ever you want them, really), and they do a brown bag lunch on weekdays of which I have heard nothing but good things. The fish market supplies many, many of the restaurants in Ottawa, which speaks to the quality of their product. Often, these other restaurant credit Whalesbone as their supplier on their menu, which suggests how highly regarded they are, that the supplier has become a selling point to the consumer.
As I mentioned above, the Elmdale Oyster House and Tavern is affiliated with The Whalesbone. Different atmosphere, different offerings, same quality fish and seafood. I am sure they will be the subject of a review in the future.
I highly recommend giving the Whalesbone a try!
For observations and updates, follow me on twitter @culinarykira
Early on this blog, I said there were three** fish restaurants in Ottawa that were worth it. The first two, The Pelican Fishery and Grill and Lapointe's, I have already reviewed. It is now time to comment on the third - The Whalesbone.
** Since I started this blog, a couple more places have arrived on the scene: the Elmdale Oyster House and Tavern, which is connected with The Whalesbone, and which I highly recommend; and Supply and Demand - haven't tried that one yet, but I have heard good things.
The Whalesbone has a speakeasy feel - a laid back, welcoming atmosphere. It is small, the space dominated by the bar. There is one large table in the front, a booth in the back, a bench seating with small tables along the side opposite the bar, and the seating at the bar. Walls are exposed brick, chalkboards tell you about desserts and oyster or other features. When busy, and it is often busy, it can be quite noisy, and if you're going at prime meal time, I strongly recommend reservations. Service is friendly and knowledgeable. Their thing is sustainable seafood, which is great; therefore, this isn't the place to go for rare, premium, or overfished stock. Their product is caught or farmed from sustainable fisheries, and the quality is impeccable.
I visited on Friday for lunch, and also looked into my archives for pictures from a dinner last fall.
I don't usually comment on bread and butter, but... the bread was good, and the butter great. It was whipped brown butter. I love brown butter.
This is an oyster house, so for pictures (and eating) I had to start with the oysters. They are 12 for $35, or 18 for $50. Or $3.25 apiece. And they are marvelous. Well shucked - meaning no bits of shell or grit, beautifully presented. On this day, I actually got a baker's dozen - there was a single lonely Virginian oyster that was added to my platter. I gave it a good home. From the top, there are oysters from New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, and completely bordered by lemon, a lone Virginian. I like it when the oysters come from different places, because you can better appreciate the variations. The New Brunswick oysters had that sharp brininess I like, as did the BC oysters. The BC were meatier - though small, they were more substantial. I also liked their ripply, scalloped shells. Very pretty. Served with lemon, as you can see, and fresh grated horseradish, which I LOVE. Also, you can see in the top left corner part of the caddy of sauces. A traditional mignonette and a HOT sauce made with scotch bonnet peppers, as well as cocktail sauce, a couple of bottled sauces, and some aged scotch. I tried scotch bonnet sauce and scotch as well as the mignonette. I always like the mignonette best - it is what I make when I have oysters at home (I cannot shuck nearly as well - invariably I drive bits of shell into the oyster). For me, the scotch takes away from the oyster, where the mignonette enhances it. But to each their own. I selected the Clocktower Oyster Stout to have with my oysters. Stout and oysters are a classic, classic pairing. Usually I go with Guinness, but since Clocktower (local microbrewery/brew pub) brews this specifically for oysters, incorporating crushed oyster shells into their process, I had to give it a try. It was a good match, the shells adding a hint of the brine to the beer as well.
I followed my oysters with seared tuna.
The tuna was beautiful. Cooked perfectly - light sear on the outside, rare rare rare on the inside. Served with potatoes, radishes, beans, and an orange-mustard compote. Kind of marmaladey. It was a sharp contrast to the smooth flavour balance of everything else. It was good, and took the dish to the next level, but I could have done with a bit less of that part on my plate. It threatened to take over, but I liked that there was something unusual and thought-provoking.
On a previous visit, I had a mixed shellfish app. Fried clams with pickled onion and creme fraiche, baked oysters, and some mussels. Though I generally prefer them raw, the oysters were not overdone, and the mussels were a much better version of something I loved as a kid - nostalgia! Prepare for a digression.
Although I was generally a picky eater, as a kid there were certain things I prided myself on loving, often things the my dad loved, and that other kids, particularly my brothers and sister, thought were disgusting. This is how I came to be an 8 year old who would not touch rice, and wouldn't eat potatoes if they were mashed (I know, I was weird), but loved blood pudding and liverwurst. Another thing I loved in all forms I could find it was fish, and shellfish. I was not the kid would only eat The Captain's fish sticks. I would eat fillets. I loved the canned smoked oysters on crackers we'd have at New Year's. And I loved the pickled mussels in a red sauce that my mother bought as an occasional treat for her and I on a Saturday. We'd come home from the Saturday shop and crack open the jar, each with a fork, and go to town on those firm, chewy, piquant pickled mussels. End of digression.
This lobster risotto was ordered by my dining companion, L. As you can see, it was beautiful to look at, and they didn't skimp on the lobster. She enjoyed the risotto, and also had a sesame tuna dish:
Gorgeous, as you can see, with sesame seed crusted tuna with some fresh veg - cucumbers, microgreens, an edible flower, croutons, some creme fraiche, with sauce and balsamic drizzles decorating the plate.
The Whalesbone is more than just a restaurant. A couple of blocks away, they have a fish market where you can get fresh and smoked fish, oyster platters for home (or where ever you want them, really), and they do a brown bag lunch on weekdays of which I have heard nothing but good things. The fish market supplies many, many of the restaurants in Ottawa, which speaks to the quality of their product. Often, these other restaurant credit Whalesbone as their supplier on their menu, which suggests how highly regarded they are, that the supplier has become a selling point to the consumer.
As I mentioned above, the Elmdale Oyster House and Tavern is affiliated with The Whalesbone. Different atmosphere, different offerings, same quality fish and seafood. I am sure they will be the subject of a review in the future.
I highly recommend giving the Whalesbone a try!
For observations and updates, follow me on twitter @culinarykira
Saturday, 28 March 2015
Gadgets, Gizmos and Doo-dads
Hello foodies!
Recently, I was tempted. A sleek number, with smooth lines and a powerful motor - definitely some muscle there! Yes, it was a Kitchenaid stand mixer. I was in Target, for the first and last time, and there were two different models, deeply discounted. I was torn. Buy? If so, which one? I hadn't done my research, and research is need. Even deeply discounted, a stand mixer is a big kitchen purchase. Ultimately, I wasn't ready to pull the trigger. There will be other days, other sales, when I am more prepared. but it got me thinking about kitchen gadgets, gizmos, and doo-dads.
As you know, there are SO MANY KITCHEN GADGETS. Many of them sound, and look, cool. You look at them and think, "I would totally use that! ALL THE TIME!! But would you? Really?? That microwave poached egg cup is essential to your kitchen? I have a long history of buying cool gizmos that I use twice and then forget about. Except when I bump into them in a crowded drawer or cupboard while looking for something else, or curse the lack of counter space and growing clutter.
As I became more skilled and focused in my cooking, I decluttered. I divested myself of those speciality unitaskers (to borrow a word from the inimitable Alton Brown). Why do I need a difficult to clean garlic press and a Pampered Chef slap chopper when a chef's knife can do more efficiently what the other items can, plus SO MUCH MORE!!
Now, before buying, I weigh the use factor against the space factor. My kitchen is small. Counter space is at a premium. I try not to buy unitaskers (items that serve only one purpose) unless they are really, really great. Not all unitaskers are bad. Beyond a fire extinguisher, thankfully never used, I have a couple of unitaskers that are well loved. My raclette grill, a gift from my sister several years ago. My lever-style cork screw. There is a place for certain unitaskers.
One unitasker I am currently considering is a paella pan. After trial and trial and trial, with much error, I have come to the conclusion that I cannot get the result I want without the proper, unitasking pan. The delightfully toasted rice that is really the whole point of paella is not possible with cast iron, which burns; or non-stick, which doesn't toast; or a regular aluminium pan, which, though the best of a bad lot, still doesn't produce the effect I am after. A paella pan allows the rice on the bottom to delicately toast without overcooking anything else. So now I am on the lookout for the perfect paella pan.
The Kitchenaid mixer... it will come. Then there will be pasta, and sausage, and countless other delights. And I will continue to peruse kitchen stores for ideas. When I find that paella pan.... expect a post.
For updates and observations... follow me on Twitter! @culinarykira
Recently, I was tempted. A sleek number, with smooth lines and a powerful motor - definitely some muscle there! Yes, it was a Kitchenaid stand mixer. I was in Target, for the first and last time, and there were two different models, deeply discounted. I was torn. Buy? If so, which one? I hadn't done my research, and research is need. Even deeply discounted, a stand mixer is a big kitchen purchase. Ultimately, I wasn't ready to pull the trigger. There will be other days, other sales, when I am more prepared. but it got me thinking about kitchen gadgets, gizmos, and doo-dads.
As you know, there are SO MANY KITCHEN GADGETS. Many of them sound, and look, cool. You look at them and think, "I would totally use that! ALL THE TIME!! But would you? Really?? That microwave poached egg cup is essential to your kitchen? I have a long history of buying cool gizmos that I use twice and then forget about. Except when I bump into them in a crowded drawer or cupboard while looking for something else, or curse the lack of counter space and growing clutter.
As I became more skilled and focused in my cooking, I decluttered. I divested myself of those speciality unitaskers (to borrow a word from the inimitable Alton Brown). Why do I need a difficult to clean garlic press and a Pampered Chef slap chopper when a chef's knife can do more efficiently what the other items can, plus SO MUCH MORE!!
Now, before buying, I weigh the use factor against the space factor. My kitchen is small. Counter space is at a premium. I try not to buy unitaskers (items that serve only one purpose) unless they are really, really great. Not all unitaskers are bad. Beyond a fire extinguisher, thankfully never used, I have a couple of unitaskers that are well loved. My raclette grill, a gift from my sister several years ago. My lever-style cork screw. There is a place for certain unitaskers.
One unitasker I am currently considering is a paella pan. After trial and trial and trial, with much error, I have come to the conclusion that I cannot get the result I want without the proper, unitasking pan. The delightfully toasted rice that is really the whole point of paella is not possible with cast iron, which burns; or non-stick, which doesn't toast; or a regular aluminium pan, which, though the best of a bad lot, still doesn't produce the effect I am after. A paella pan allows the rice on the bottom to delicately toast without overcooking anything else. So now I am on the lookout for the perfect paella pan.
The Kitchenaid mixer... it will come. Then there will be pasta, and sausage, and countless other delights. And I will continue to peruse kitchen stores for ideas. When I find that paella pan.... expect a post.
For updates and observations... follow me on Twitter! @culinarykira
Saturday, 14 February 2015
Breakfast at work (Baked Oatmeal!)
Hello foodies,
I do not like getting up in the morning. Over the years, I have worked my morning routine down to the millisecond so that I can spend every possible minute in bed. I also do not like eating as soon as I get up, so I usually eat at my desk as I am planning my day.
My building has a cafeteria. They struggle with toast, so the less said about it the better. And buying meals daily adds up, and takes my valuable eating out dollars away from better fare. So, today, I would like to share some thoughts on things I bring from home.
Breakfast
I detest cereal. In my memory, I have never once eaten it - at least, not in a bowl with milk poured over it the way many do. I can't even be near people when they're eating cereal. The smell, the sound, and the look of it turn me off completely. So this aversion of mine has always made quick, week day breakfasts more of a challenge for me. Beyond the obvious - dinner leftovers - I have several standbys I like.
Greek yogurt, walnuts and honey. I discovered this a few years ago travelling in Greece. You get protein from the yogurt and nuts, dairy, a little sweetness from the honey. You can add fruit or berries as well. Granola would work instead of nuts. Or in addition to it. When I get to work, I actually pop it in the freezer for a bit (I like my yogurt really cold, so this addresses any warming issues that happened on my commute). Sometimes, I leave it a little long and it freezes a little, so I have nutty frozen yogurt for breakfast, which is awesome.
Another thing I discovered recently that is really easy to do at work is miso soup. A savoury soup for breakfast sounds strange to many Canadians, but it is quite common elsewhere, and in the winter, it is lovely. It is as easy as bringing a chink of miso paste in tupperware, and pouring hot water over it and stirring. You can get fancier, with chopped scallions and tofu, and use dashi instead of plain water. But the plain water really does the trick. Pictured below is a my first homemade miso. Here I had made the dashi from scratch, but after that was gone, I reverted to water, and at work it was just fine.
I have recently heard about baked oatmeal. And I decided I wanted to try. It can be made individually and frozen for weekday breakfasts, or in a larger cake pan for a communal weekend option. I started researching, and found a lot of recipes. Many of them gluten free and/or vegan, calling for things like applesauce or mashed bananas. Stuff that I am not going to do. So, having an idea what I wanted, what I have in my fridge, and what the batter and the finished product should look like, I set out to tailor the concept to me.
Combine:
2 c rolled oats (not quick oats)
1/4 c flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
Walnut pieces to taste, so they're well distributed (or pecan, or almond, or....)
Add:
1/4 c maple syrup (or a little more - I was using a 1/3 measure that I didn't fill all the way)
1 c milk
1 egg
1/2 of sour cream
1 tbsp melted butter
1 tsp vanilla
Mix until combined.
Spoon into paper lined muffin tin, top with mixed berries (or more nuts, or chocolate chips, or....) and bake at 375 for 40 minutes.
All in all, not bad. Fibre, a bit of protein from the nuts. Some fruit. One flaw is they kind of stick to the wrappers. I shall update when I find a way around that. I may tinker with the recipe a bit - and you can too = it is very forgiving.
For updates, follow me on twitter! @culinarykira
I do not like getting up in the morning. Over the years, I have worked my morning routine down to the millisecond so that I can spend every possible minute in bed. I also do not like eating as soon as I get up, so I usually eat at my desk as I am planning my day.
My building has a cafeteria. They struggle with toast, so the less said about it the better. And buying meals daily adds up, and takes my valuable eating out dollars away from better fare. So, today, I would like to share some thoughts on things I bring from home.
Breakfast
I detest cereal. In my memory, I have never once eaten it - at least, not in a bowl with milk poured over it the way many do. I can't even be near people when they're eating cereal. The smell, the sound, and the look of it turn me off completely. So this aversion of mine has always made quick, week day breakfasts more of a challenge for me. Beyond the obvious - dinner leftovers - I have several standbys I like.
Greek yogurt, walnuts and honey. I discovered this a few years ago travelling in Greece. You get protein from the yogurt and nuts, dairy, a little sweetness from the honey. You can add fruit or berries as well. Granola would work instead of nuts. Or in addition to it. When I get to work, I actually pop it in the freezer for a bit (I like my yogurt really cold, so this addresses any warming issues that happened on my commute). Sometimes, I leave it a little long and it freezes a little, so I have nutty frozen yogurt for breakfast, which is awesome.
Another thing I discovered recently that is really easy to do at work is miso soup. A savoury soup for breakfast sounds strange to many Canadians, but it is quite common elsewhere, and in the winter, it is lovely. It is as easy as bringing a chink of miso paste in tupperware, and pouring hot water over it and stirring. You can get fancier, with chopped scallions and tofu, and use dashi instead of plain water. But the plain water really does the trick. Pictured below is a my first homemade miso. Here I had made the dashi from scratch, but after that was gone, I reverted to water, and at work it was just fine.
I have recently heard about baked oatmeal. And I decided I wanted to try. It can be made individually and frozen for weekday breakfasts, or in a larger cake pan for a communal weekend option. I started researching, and found a lot of recipes. Many of them gluten free and/or vegan, calling for things like applesauce or mashed bananas. Stuff that I am not going to do. So, having an idea what I wanted, what I have in my fridge, and what the batter and the finished product should look like, I set out to tailor the concept to me.
Combine:
2 c rolled oats (not quick oats)
1/4 c flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
Walnut pieces to taste, so they're well distributed (or pecan, or almond, or....)
Add:
1/4 c maple syrup (or a little more - I was using a 1/3 measure that I didn't fill all the way)
1 c milk
1 egg
1/2 of sour cream
1 tbsp melted butter
1 tsp vanilla
Mix until combined.
Spoon into paper lined muffin tin, top with mixed berries (or more nuts, or chocolate chips, or....) and bake at 375 for 40 minutes.
All in all, not bad. Fibre, a bit of protein from the nuts. Some fruit. One flaw is they kind of stick to the wrappers. I shall update when I find a way around that. I may tinker with the recipe a bit - and you can too = it is very forgiving.
For updates, follow me on twitter! @culinarykira
Saturday, 24 January 2015
Eleven Madison Park
Hello foodies!
In November, I went to foodie heaven. A 3 Michelin starred restaurant in New York City. Ranked 4th in the world by San Pellegrino in their annual rankings - the top in North America. Eleven Madison Park.
Anyone who loves food, and loves innovation, should try an experience like this at least once, if they can possibly afford it. They serve a 15 course tasting menu, with optional beverage pairings. No menu to order from, though there are some choices to be made.
To me, it was a perfect evening. Beautiful, interesting, tasty food, carefully paired drink, and service unlike any I have experienced. Plus the good company of my sister in one of the most vibrant cities in the world. This place starts taking reservations at 9:00 am EST, 4 weeks prior to the night in question. So I called at 9:00 am, 28 days prior to November 11th. A couple of weeks before our dinner, I received an email from the head waiter, asking about dietary restrictions, allergies, and if there was anything he could do to enhance our visit. A nice touch.
My dining companion was my sister, K. We had a long-planned trip to New York as a celebration of a milestone birthday for me (40!), and this dinner was the pinnacle of my trip. We arrived a little early and were taken to the bar to wait. There, the bartender questioned us on our preferences and crafted a cocktail to cater to those preferences. Mine, on the left, was tart with citrus, not too sweet.
Then we were seated. The room is large. High ceilings. Art deco grandeur. We were among the first diners there (the meal takes a good 4 hours, so starting around 6 seemed like a good idea), and it seemed to us that there were many, many servers based on the number of possible seats. This allows them to offer a level of service that I have never before experienced. The staff truly anticipate your needs, enhancing your dining experience. I think many of us have the viewpoint that being a waiter is a stopping point, something you do to make ends meet as a student, an actor, an artist, etc., rather than a profession. And in most places in Canada this is the case. Here, the waitstaff are professionals, and it shows. (Aside.... in general, I must say the service in NYC was far and above anything I have ever seen in Canada - from store clerks, to waitstaff, to ticket takers, people were so friendly and kind, whether it was a role where tips were a possibility or not.)
Upon being seated, we were brought their signature black and white cookies, which both start and end the meal. The opening cookies are savoury, the closing cookies are sweet. The opening cookies, which I sadly neglected to take a picture of, were cheddar cheese with apple. We were asked to choose our protein - duck or venison. After a short discussion, we chose venison. It isn't as commonly found in grocery stores and on menus here in Ontario, particularly in K's medium-sized town, so we felt it might be the more interesting option. Personally, I also frequently cook duck and cook it well. I know venison, because of its leanness, is more challenging. This default preference to things I can't cook easily made our second choice for us: for the foie gras course, did we want the foie seared or torchon? I can, and have, seared foie gras at home, but foie gras torchon is a labour intensive 2 - 4 day process requiring much more (expensive) foie to start with, so our choice was obvious. Also in front of us was an envelope with two cards inside, each with 4 punch outs with a flavour profile written underneath. Maple, cranberry, apple, and celery. We each were able to choose the flavour profile that would be reflected later in our meal. We punched our cards. I chose cranberry, liking the idea of the tartness of it, and K was intrigued by the idea of celery.
I figure that you don't do an expensive, splurge dinner like this without being willing to go all in. So we went all in. There are two options for the beverage pairing. The premium pairing features more difficult to find, less common, less available, or just plain better wines (mostly, there was beer with one course as well). So, naturally, we went with the premium.
The first thing brought, also not pictured, was a cup of venison broth (the first reflection of our protein choice), with bread and butter. This was savoury and intensely flavoured, and got us ready for the march of culinary delight that was about to commence.
Kabocha squash, roasted with pear, chestnut, and radicchio, paired with the 1989 Hans Kramp Ayler Kupp, from the Saar region in Germany. From a little googling, this wine is quite a find, and we were lucky to get to sample it. Not surprising something like this was first in the liquor line up, before our palates got muddled with food and drink.
Followed by the foie gras, with marinated grapes, truffles, and mushroom and breadcrumbs, served with NY Malmsey. You can see the decadent little cylinders of foie gras torchon beneath the mushrooms. Torchon, by the way, is a preparation where a whole lobe of foie gras is prepared, seasoned, shaped, rolled tightly and bound, then lightly poached at a low temperature, with resting phases in various parts of the process. The result is an unbelievably creamy, smooth, rich texture, with perhaps a slight taming of the liveriness of it all.
The next course honoured a New York tradition: deli. Pastrami on rye, but more elegant and elevated. First, a deli sandwich needs a soda:
My cranberry soda, and K's celery soda. K loved the celery - found it unusual and refreshing. My cranberry was just what I would expect, tart and a little sweet, and nice against the fattiness of the pastrami...
Made in house, this was delightful. Those who have only had pastrami from grocery stores don't know what they're missing. Proper pastrami is so tasty. We assembled our own sandwiches with:
Rye bread. Dollops of different mustards, mayo, charred leeks and fingerling potato chips. All in all, this dish was fun, playful, and, above all, delicious.
The next course involved four different preparations of Long Island seafood, served with Larmandier-Bernier 2008 Blanc de Blancs champagne. Oyster with yogurt and lemon, in a mignonette gelée.This had a nice flavour, but over all, the gelée was not my favourite, and I lost the texture of the oyster.
Scallop with pistachio and apple. The scallop was ceviche style, nice texture and acidity, the apple gave a bit of crunch.
Marinated blue crab with pickled radish. Nice blend between the sweetness of the crab meat and the brine of the pickle.
Vichyssoise with caviar, smoked blue fish, and quail egg. With the caviar and egg yolk, this was the most luxe of this quartet. I loved the saltiness of the caviar, and I enjoy that popping texture of the little roe.
Continuing on the ocean theme, the next dish was striped bass, slow cooked with clams. There was a pool of a squid ink sauce that was very interesting, and a parsley shellfish sauce. This was served with some potato foam/soup and sea urchin (uni!!) in another bowl. This whole combination was one of my favourites. The fish was cooked beautifully, the clams atop it added depth and texture. The squid ink sauce added visual interest and tasted good - I had never had squid ink before. The side, well, foam is foam. But sea urchin. Uni. Long time readers know that I have had uni before and, well, it didn't delight. Much to my surprise, this preparation worked for me. The aggressive fishiness that turned me off before was tamed into a pleasant brine with a hint of iodine. The soup/foam also counteracted the textural issues of pure uni. I am going to take this experience and try uni yet again in sushi form to see if my feelings have changed or if it was just this one dish.
They brought our next course to the table as it was still being cooked, just to show us the technique. An old, old school version of the trendy sous-vide method, celery root, flavourings and aromatics were sealed in a tightly tied pig's bladder and floated gently in a pan of liquid.
It sounds, and looks, strange, I know. But you need an open mind when going to a place like this. The end result was delicious. A ball of celery root in a truffle sauce. Under the white disc of pureed celery root, there is a smaller wheel of black truffle puree, taking the whole dish up a notch. This was paired with a 2011 Domaine du Montille burgundy.
In November, I went to foodie heaven. A 3 Michelin starred restaurant in New York City. Ranked 4th in the world by San Pellegrino in their annual rankings - the top in North America. Eleven Madison Park.
Anyone who loves food, and loves innovation, should try an experience like this at least once, if they can possibly afford it. They serve a 15 course tasting menu, with optional beverage pairings. No menu to order from, though there are some choices to be made.
To me, it was a perfect evening. Beautiful, interesting, tasty food, carefully paired drink, and service unlike any I have experienced. Plus the good company of my sister in one of the most vibrant cities in the world. This place starts taking reservations at 9:00 am EST, 4 weeks prior to the night in question. So I called at 9:00 am, 28 days prior to November 11th. A couple of weeks before our dinner, I received an email from the head waiter, asking about dietary restrictions, allergies, and if there was anything he could do to enhance our visit. A nice touch.
My dining companion was my sister, K. We had a long-planned trip to New York as a celebration of a milestone birthday for me (40!), and this dinner was the pinnacle of my trip. We arrived a little early and were taken to the bar to wait. There, the bartender questioned us on our preferences and crafted a cocktail to cater to those preferences. Mine, on the left, was tart with citrus, not too sweet.
Then we were seated. The room is large. High ceilings. Art deco grandeur. We were among the first diners there (the meal takes a good 4 hours, so starting around 6 seemed like a good idea), and it seemed to us that there were many, many servers based on the number of possible seats. This allows them to offer a level of service that I have never before experienced. The staff truly anticipate your needs, enhancing your dining experience. I think many of us have the viewpoint that being a waiter is a stopping point, something you do to make ends meet as a student, an actor, an artist, etc., rather than a profession. And in most places in Canada this is the case. Here, the waitstaff are professionals, and it shows. (Aside.... in general, I must say the service in NYC was far and above anything I have ever seen in Canada - from store clerks, to waitstaff, to ticket takers, people were so friendly and kind, whether it was a role where tips were a possibility or not.)
Upon being seated, we were brought their signature black and white cookies, which both start and end the meal. The opening cookies are savoury, the closing cookies are sweet. The opening cookies, which I sadly neglected to take a picture of, were cheddar cheese with apple. We were asked to choose our protein - duck or venison. After a short discussion, we chose venison. It isn't as commonly found in grocery stores and on menus here in Ontario, particularly in K's medium-sized town, so we felt it might be the more interesting option. Personally, I also frequently cook duck and cook it well. I know venison, because of its leanness, is more challenging. This default preference to things I can't cook easily made our second choice for us: for the foie gras course, did we want the foie seared or torchon? I can, and have, seared foie gras at home, but foie gras torchon is a labour intensive 2 - 4 day process requiring much more (expensive) foie to start with, so our choice was obvious. Also in front of us was an envelope with two cards inside, each with 4 punch outs with a flavour profile written underneath. Maple, cranberry, apple, and celery. We each were able to choose the flavour profile that would be reflected later in our meal. We punched our cards. I chose cranberry, liking the idea of the tartness of it, and K was intrigued by the idea of celery.
I figure that you don't do an expensive, splurge dinner like this without being willing to go all in. So we went all in. There are two options for the beverage pairing. The premium pairing features more difficult to find, less common, less available, or just plain better wines (mostly, there was beer with one course as well). So, naturally, we went with the premium.
The first thing brought, also not pictured, was a cup of venison broth (the first reflection of our protein choice), with bread and butter. This was savoury and intensely flavoured, and got us ready for the march of culinary delight that was about to commence.
Kabocha squash, roasted with pear, chestnut, and radicchio, paired with the 1989 Hans Kramp Ayler Kupp, from the Saar region in Germany. From a little googling, this wine is quite a find, and we were lucky to get to sample it. Not surprising something like this was first in the liquor line up, before our palates got muddled with food and drink.
Followed by the foie gras, with marinated grapes, truffles, and mushroom and breadcrumbs, served with NY Malmsey. You can see the decadent little cylinders of foie gras torchon beneath the mushrooms. Torchon, by the way, is a preparation where a whole lobe of foie gras is prepared, seasoned, shaped, rolled tightly and bound, then lightly poached at a low temperature, with resting phases in various parts of the process. The result is an unbelievably creamy, smooth, rich texture, with perhaps a slight taming of the liveriness of it all.
The next course honoured a New York tradition: deli. Pastrami on rye, but more elegant and elevated. First, a deli sandwich needs a soda:
My cranberry soda, and K's celery soda. K loved the celery - found it unusual and refreshing. My cranberry was just what I would expect, tart and a little sweet, and nice against the fattiness of the pastrami...
Made in house, this was delightful. Those who have only had pastrami from grocery stores don't know what they're missing. Proper pastrami is so tasty. We assembled our own sandwiches with:
Rye bread. Dollops of different mustards, mayo, charred leeks and fingerling potato chips. All in all, this dish was fun, playful, and, above all, delicious.
The next course involved four different preparations of Long Island seafood, served with Larmandier-Bernier 2008 Blanc de Blancs champagne. Oyster with yogurt and lemon, in a mignonette gelée.This had a nice flavour, but over all, the gelée was not my favourite, and I lost the texture of the oyster.
Scallop with pistachio and apple. The scallop was ceviche style, nice texture and acidity, the apple gave a bit of crunch.
Marinated blue crab with pickled radish. Nice blend between the sweetness of the crab meat and the brine of the pickle.
Vichyssoise with caviar, smoked blue fish, and quail egg. With the caviar and egg yolk, this was the most luxe of this quartet. I loved the saltiness of the caviar, and I enjoy that popping texture of the little roe.
Continuing on the ocean theme, the next dish was striped bass, slow cooked with clams. There was a pool of a squid ink sauce that was very interesting, and a parsley shellfish sauce. This was served with some potato foam/soup and sea urchin (uni!!) in another bowl. This whole combination was one of my favourites. The fish was cooked beautifully, the clams atop it added depth and texture. The squid ink sauce added visual interest and tasted good - I had never had squid ink before. The side, well, foam is foam. But sea urchin. Uni. Long time readers know that I have had uni before and, well, it didn't delight. Much to my surprise, this preparation worked for me. The aggressive fishiness that turned me off before was tamed into a pleasant brine with a hint of iodine. The soup/foam also counteracted the textural issues of pure uni. I am going to take this experience and try uni yet again in sushi form to see if my feelings have changed or if it was just this one dish.
They brought our next course to the table as it was still being cooked, just to show us the technique. An old, old school version of the trendy sous-vide method, celery root, flavourings and aromatics were sealed in a tightly tied pig's bladder and floated gently in a pan of liquid.
It sounds, and looks, strange, I know. But you need an open mind when going to a place like this. The end result was delicious. A ball of celery root in a truffle sauce. Under the white disc of pureed celery root, there is a smaller wheel of black truffle puree, taking the whole dish up a notch. This was paired with a 2011 Domaine du Montille burgundy.
Next they brought us our main protein, the venison, to show us the cooking method. Sealed in wood and ash, on a bed of aromatic evergreens, it smelled smokey and delicious. The intent behind sealing the venison away is to keep the ultra lean meat moist.
Back that went to the kitchen to be finished off, and to prepare us for the meatier protein, the next course was charcuterie, all venison based. Hunter sausage, cured loin, and a liver pate within a piece of brioche, along with the requisite pickley accompaniments.
And then, the main. Venison, slow roasted in an ash crust, with beets and onions, and paired with Domaine du Terrebrune Bandol, from Provence. The venison was silky and moist, cooked perfectly. The sauce, which I suspect was blood-based, was sublime. The beet chips added a further earthy crunch. The table next to us ordered the duck, so I saw that plate. I think we chose the better option.
So, having reached the pinnacle, we begin the trip down the other side with a selection of local cheeses. As I have seen and experienced in France, they wheeled over the cheese cart and we each chose 3 from the 7 or 8 they had there. I chose a blue, a creamy, surface ripened cheese, and a firmer cheese. K's choices were different. These came with a house made soft pretzel (so good), bitter greens, and plum conserve, and the course was served with Brett Farmhouse Ale from Transmitter Brewing.
From here we begin our foray into dessert. First, something of a palate cleanser: variations on milk. Whey sorbet, with caramelised milk and milk foam, served with a 2011 Marco de Bartoli Bukkuram passito. The sorbet had the acidity that sorbet often does, and a slight sourness from the whey. The caramelised milk (dulce du leche, essentially) was very good.
Dessert was Baked Alaska, served with Wiengut Kracher Zweigeit Beerenauslese from Austria. First they brought the whole thing out and made a show of spooning fire over it. Then they returned to the kitchen to plate it and brought our servings back out. Beside mine is a little candle in honour of my birthday! This was my first Baked Alaska, and my first Italian style meringue. It is quite different from the French style meringue most of us are more familiar with - a different texture that would make it easier to pipe and make interesting effects with. Also more stable, I believe. But I digress... The cake was a darker cake, with rum and caramel, making it more interesting and tasty than the simple white sponge generally used.
Do you think we're done? We're not done. House made hard salted pretzels, dipped in dark chocolate, served with an entire bottle of apple brandy to drink at our leisure. We did not drink an entire bottle of apple brandy. I liked the saltiness of the pretzels with the dark, bittersweet chocolate. And the closing black and white cookies, sweet this time - chocolate with apple molasses.
As a closing salvo, they sent us each home with a mason jar of house made granola for future breakfasts, and a decadent chocolate bar for me, also for my birthday. After all that food, and all that wine, we opted to walk the 25 or so blocks back to our hotel.
This was an epoch meal. The sort that comes but rarely. Expensive, yes, but I don't regret one penny spent. It was a glorious and unforgettable evening, and memory that will stay with me forever.
For updates and observations, follow me on twitter! @culinarykira
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