umamification of the utility bird May 6, 2008

I know – ‘umamification’ is totally a made up word but, as always, I feel I’ve a firm enough grasp on the English language to indulge myself in bastardizing it here and there.  Plus I figure if you can get past that, dear readers, you’re probably at least a little masochistic and look forward to being inflicted with the soap-boxing to come.

The second and third sections of The Omnivore’s Dilemma have done very little to quell the fears about the organic food industry I cited in my first post about the book, though I’m not left with the feeling that all hope is lost, either.  Like Pollan, I want my organic food dollars to go to the pastoral ideal of the fertile, self-sufficient, organic farm I hold in my imagination, one like the farm my maternal grandparents have worked for an eternity with chickens running amongst the raspberry bushes, happy pigs slumbering in shade of a shed, cows blocking highway traffic so they can make their trek from one grassy range to another.  A farm which, for all intents and purposes, would not qualify for the ‘organic’ label, but follows a small-scale, animal-lead production methodology which allows pigs to be pigs and chickens to be chickens and beef to be beef…and that’s probably the message which resonates most profoundly about this section of the book; recognizing the term ‘organic’ as part of the industrial food chain’s rhetoric, contradictory outside of that context and then being called to either re-appropriate it or drop it altogether…which certainly appeals to my quasi-Marxist sensibilities and my desire for passive resistance through stepping around the industrial food machine, but gives me butterflies in practice as it promises to be a fairly large commitment.  I’ll actually have to talk to people, question their practices, let them know when they don’t meet my expectations, let them know what my expectations are…become part of the negotiation and actually seek out chickenier chickens and beefier bovines.

Alright, perhaps that’s a bit dramatic.  I already do a lot of that stuff; I’m hardly a label-dependent consumer, and I’ve never really fully developed an apathy bone, but remember my corn-fed cow freak-out from my first post?  There’s obviously some room for improvement.  It’s understood this section of the book is very much about gaining a more intimate understanding of our food’s life cycle, an appreciation for the alchemy of pastoral farming and setting standards for a food chain which emphasises quality over quantity.  This really set the little businessy portion of my brain to ticking; it’s not enough for me to rest on the laurels of ‘buying right.’  If I want that ideal pastoral farm to be the producer of my food stuffs then I need to take a vested interest in its health and welfare, go out of my way to invest in it and promote it, and ultimately to make it part of the business that is me because the cost-benefit analysis of the alternative already looks grim and is terrifying when plugged into a spreadsheet.  Now I’m wondering about all of the ways one might adopt a farm and am committed to stretching my political muscles a little further.

All that said, I’m really excited for the next section.  It’s all about foods from the forest which is a topic near and dear to my little hunter’s daughter heart.

eco justice challenge April 30, 2008

As is the way of the interwebs, my post regarding The Omnivore’s Dilemma produced a response which lead to an affinity which, in turn, led to a challenge…or something like that. I took the lot of it to the dinner table Thursday night and the mister, the sprogs and myself agreed to rise to the challenge on the basis that there’s always room for improvement. We got over giving ourselves a pat on the back for the things we already have in place and decided to start the challenge with a weekly, one hour blackout (which will be Mondays from 8pmish to 9pmish) and reading/brainstorming session. At 11 & almost 13 I think they’re ready to wrap their minds around the likes of Diet for a Small Planet so I can probe their young, pliable minds for ideas on which steps to take next.

For more information on Emily’s EcoJustice challenge click here.

Wish us luck!

fractalicious! April 25, 2008

The Sierpinski Carpet realised in yummy butter cookie dough. 

Geeky gastronomy warms the cockles of my nerdy little heart.  Evil Mad Scientist, you are my new hero.

s-t-r-e-t-c-h April 13, 2008

Having more leftovers than energy tonight I decided to make use of a bunch of them; using what was left and frozen our mussels glutton-fest, 3 pieces of bacon and a handful of potatoes from breakfast this morning, some frozen corn which wasn’t enough to put into anything else and some cream which wasn’t like to be used anytime soon I was able to put together a lovely chowder in about 10 minutes. And now I remember how I made it through college without starving.

Fin.

crepes

Someone suggested having a crepe-themed wine (or ‘let’s eat ’til we burst’) night with our regular motley crew and Friday that plan finally came together. They’re really not the mystery one might have you believe them to be and they make for a nice, decadent, incredibly versatile treat once every 5 years or so. You may as well try to make them.

What you need for savoury crepes:

2 large eggs
3/4 cup milk
1/2 cup water
1 cup flour
1/4 cup melted butter
1/2teaspoon salt
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley

What you need for dessert crepes:

2 large eggs
3/4 cup milk
1/2 cup water 1 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup melted butter
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons of amaretto

Butter or cooking spray (which I don’t normally endorse the use of but I’ve score a lifetime supply of it and need to use it for something) for greasing the pan(s).

In the bowl of a large (10-12 cup) food processor mix together all of the ingredients (except the butter or cooking spray for the pan) and pulse together 10 times for 2 seconds each. If you feel the need for more batter just double the batches but mix them separately for a smoother batter. That’s it, that’s all. Well, until you’re ready to cook them and you won’t be for a good hour or so as it’s best to refrigerate the batter for at least an hour to quell the bubbles which cause crepe breakage during and after cooking. I also like to allow the batter to sit at room temperature for a good 15 minutes before cooking as it helps the butter get back in with the rest of the batter family after it’s resolidification time in the frigo.

As far as cooking crepes goes I tend to prefer a heavy bottomed skillet over the thin, low lipped crepe pans. the reason for this is that I can get a good flip out of a larger pan and can control the heat in them better. The good flip means less handling which means less breakage which makes for happy crepes. The temperature control means less burning which means I can have two pans on the go at once without compromising the integrity of the crepes. So 2 heavy skillets over medium high heat with a wee bit of butter rubbed on them or cooking spray sprayed in them for lube will get you going – just remember to start them one at a time and if you don’t feel like doing two at a time, don’t.

It always takes me at least three crepes to gage how much batter to use when experimenting with new equipment (and I was as I wasn’t at home.) I eyeball how much goes in; I start with about a quarter of a cup of batter in the pan and swirl it around until the bottom is lightly coated in batter. If my crepe is not translucent enough to see the bottom of the pan I know I’ve got too much batter. If there are holes through the crepe I know I’ve got too little. I adjust accordingly either way with subsequent crepes until I get it right.

Crepes can be filled with just about anything. Friday night we had each guest bring a selection of fillings for both sweet and savoury crepes so our selection consisted of roasted chicken breasts, asparagus, sauteed mushrooms and spinach, cheese curds, old cheddar cheese, butter chicken sauce, mushroom wine sauce, bechamel, prosciutto, tomato butter, shrimp & potatoes. For the dessert crepes (sorry;no pictures of those – I blame the wine) we saw amaretto cream cheese whipped cream, amaretto stewed fruits (do you sense a theme here?) raspberry compote, fresh strawberries and blackberries, and probably a bunch of other stuff I can’t remember. It was all wonderfully yummy and incredibly filling but kept up with the wine nicely.

Decadent Mollusks March 17, 2008

I’ve been craving mussels like 90 lately and happened to score a bunch on sale. 6 lbs of on sale mussels in fact. Here’s what we did with them:

This recipe sort of mashes steaming and baking due to the sheer volume of mollusky goodness. We took one look at our pot and realised it simply wasn’t going to do the whole lot in one fell swoop. Luckily we had a very astute guest present who suggested doing them in the large roasting pan we normally use for turkey. Perfect!

Now, a word about dealing with mussels: the cooking of the little critters takes very little time at all, however the prep work can be quite a lot longer depending on the state in which the mussels were sold. We lucked out as ours were sold ‘debearded’ but some still had beards which needed to be snipped and tossed and they all needed cleaning. As such, the first thing we did was toss them into two large bowls of very cold water and begin the cleaning process. I’m probably a bit too meticulous about this but I want to be sure I get all of the dead ones. Cleaning each shell ensures that I see each one which is open and broken so I can pitch it straight away. Any with open shells should be discarded if they don’t quickly close with a tap on the table. Also, scrubbed mussels look prettier than unscrubbed one and as I wanted to do them in a broth to be enjoyed with them I really didn’t need any clinging grit on them. I just give each one a once over with a copper wool pad and was ready to begin cooking in about half an hour.

What you need:

2 sticks of butter

5 cloves of garlic lightly crushed

1 large red onion, chopped

3 cups of dry white wine

2 lb bag of new potatoes – we used gold fingerlings as I enjoy their firm texture in contrast with the mussels

5 roma tomatoes in 1/2 inch thick slices

1 tbsp ground nutmeg

1 1/2 cups chopped fresh parsley

6 lbs mussels in shell

Start by preheating the oven with the roasting pan in it to 400 degrees. Once it’s up to temp add the butter to melt, then the garlic and onion. Cook those until translucent and fragrant. Add the potatoes and cover the pan. Cook for about 20 minutes, stirring at the 10 minute mark.

After 20 minutes the potatoes should be slightly tender and browned. Add the wine and cook for another 10 minutes with the lid on. Add the tomatoes and the nutmeg and cook uncovered until the tomatoes are soft and cooked down then stir 1 cup of the parsley into the broth. Now it’s time to add the mussels. Add them quickly but in small batches, giving them another check for any with opened or broken shells, discarding those as you go. As soon as all of the mussels are in the pan put the lid back on and set the timer for 5 minutes. After 5 minutes check to see if they’re all open. Open means done and you don’t want to over cook them or they’ll taste like fish-flavoured bubble gum. if they’re not all open pull the pan out of the oven and cover again for about 2 minutes. The pan will still be hot enough to finish cooking them. Any which didn’t open should be discarded and those left should be stirred around to get coated in broth. Cooing words of encouragement at them works too. True story. Top the lot of it with parsley and serve with fresh baguette slices and a nice Shiraz.

We did our rock ‘n roll duty by putting a major dent into 6 lbs of mussels between the three of us, but even we gluttons couldn’t do away with the lot of them. The solution to that problem (because I’m not about to let those succulent little critters go to waste) was to shuck the remaining mussels and put them and the remaining broth in a bag and then into the freezer – I’ll use that for a lovely chowder at some other time.

they grow up so fast February 28, 2008

So the sprogs have decided to try their hand at some of the cooking responsibilities around here. It works out well as far as scheduling goes; every Wednesday one of them visits their father & the other stays home & vice versa. Reigning them in as far as scope goes is another story – they want to create meals off the cuff like the adults do. Which is fair, but not necessarily conducive to the sense of accomplishment I feel they should have in taking on such responsibilities. It’s taken a little negotiation but I’ve talked them into simpler meals that they know go over well for their first few attempts.

Last night was the daughter’s night home & this is what she decided to create:

A basic sandwich with a little oomph. I often make this with leftover roast beef but this week we had leftover turkey. The focaccia is homemade by the daughter (I did proof the yeast before she got home in the interest of timing but she did everything else,) the veggies she roasted on her own & she also put together the horseradish mayo. The only times I intervened were to prompt her to get some of her prep work done at certain junctures (like while the dough was rising) rather than scrambling to time everything in the last few minutes before serving & to give little lessons on tools usage (such as providing one’s self the most stable surfaces whilst cutting the vegetables & the bread) & effective clean-up-while-you-work strategies.

It’s been an interesting exercise for all of us. I get to see just how much they’ve picked up through observing us in the kitchen (& was very impressed that the daughter remembered to brush the bread with a little olive oil halfway through cooking & asked questions when she found herself doing things automatically without knowing why she was doing them – not bad for a 10 year old, eh?) & relinquish the kitchen control stick to their capable hands. They get to feel like they’ve got some say in the way we eat, get out of table setting duty & get their creations posted on the internet.

So far we’re onto a winner with this, me thinks.

Sunday dinner redux February 11, 2008

I was feeling adventurous & had a pork tenderloin roast in the freezer begging to be cooked into something yummy. So I experimented with simple ingredients; you can barely see the tenderloin up there smothered in its wine, apple & mushroom jus, but it was very much present in terms of flavour & texture within the meal itself.

What you need:

1 pork tenderloin roast

1 tbsp olive oil

2 cups of dry white wine

5 cloves garlic, smashed & peeled, but not crushed

1 cup sliced mushrooms

2 sliced, large apples

1/2 stick of butter

salt to taste

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Heat the olive oil in a large cast iron skillet over medium high heat. Once it’s hot gently place the two sides of the tenderloin into it to sear & dust the exposed meat with a little salt (a pinch per loin should do it). Sear the tenderloin, turning as you go in order to get all sides lightly browned. Once browned lightly deglaze with one cup of wine, using a wooden spoon to lift any meat residue from the bottom of the skillet. Slice almost but not fully through the meat at one inch intervals along the length of the roast. Add the garlic to the pan & transfer the roast, skillet & all, to the oven. Cook for about 40 minutes or until the roast is nicely brown on the inside. Remove the tenderloin from the oven & transfer to a cutting board to sit.

Heat the skillet containing the leftover juices & wine from the roast over medium-high heat. Stir the contents until they’re reduced by half. Add the mushrooms & the apples. Continue to heat & stir until the apples & mushrooms are fork tender & the juices have been reduced by about half again. Add the butter & stir that in until it’s combined with the rest of the sauce. Stir in the remaining cup of wine & taste. Add more salt if necessary. Reduce the heat & let simmer for about 10 minutes until it’s slightly thickened.

Cut the roast into medallions along the slits you’ve already made & transfer to the dish in/on which you intend to serve it. Spoon the jus over the roast & garnish with a couple sprigs of fresh thyme or parsley. Serve hot over rice, potatoes or (as seen below) savoury madeleines (a recipe I will not share at this time as I haven’t perfected it yet but is really quite delicious nonetheless.) The fresh, steamed, green beans make a lovely side.

ick February 8, 2008

So I burnt a pot of yams tonight. We won’t get into how it happened but suffice it to say that it did and here are the results:

Looks like a lot of hard work, doesn’t it? Well…I happen to know a secret; I just toss the contents of a can like this:

…into the afflicted pot. Simmer for about 30 minutes and end up with this:

…and a much lower elbow-grease quotient.

Non-burnt recipes to come.

On kids and food (a.k.a: a largely anecdotal and rather long-winded missive) January 11, 2008

I’m often asked how I avoided the usual kid-pickiness when it comes to food that other parents face and the fact of the matter is that I didn’t My kids have been through picky phase after picky phase for as long as I’ve known them. One day they like tuna on crackers and the next they don’t. I guess I’ve always seen it as a fact of life and part of being a kid…but something of a challenge nonetheless.

I remember vehemently refusing tomato sauce on my pasta for over 10 years unless it was Zia Louisa’s (who preserved a very basic Napolitano containing very little beyond tomatoes and garlic every after harvest.) It was my first political protest (for reasons beyond the scope of this blog) and I did it simply to irritate my step-father who was more than happy to impart his sauce-making secrets in a subversive attempt to bring me to the saucy side. Despite that, I was more than happy to try just about everything under the sun except frog’s legs (having lived across the road from a river through my formative years helped me develop a certain appreciation for amphibians and reptiles though having beef-farming grandparents didn’t sway me from eating cows, though it did make me more discerning in terms of what cow tastes like – having grown up on pasture-raised beef and wild game my dad brought home had me realising quickly that the stuff sold at grocery stores rather drastically lacked in flavour and substance) and brussel sprouts (I just don’t like those nasty little cabbages, ‘kay?)

So yes, at the tender age of 32 I too am a picky eater to a certain extent and really expect no less from my loin fruits and I still have no easy answer to the question with which I began this post. That said, I strive to maintain realistic expectations when it comes to foodstuffs. When I was about 14 my mum came home one day and announced that we were going to eat a strictly vegetarian (‘strictly’ in the loosest sense of the word as fish, eggs, chicken and dairy were permitted) diet from there on out. I embraced that at first (save every other weekend whilst visiting my hunter of a father) but quickly became disenchanted with the whole affair when meals became unimaginative and uninspired. Within 2 weeks I was reading Diet for a Small Planet and The Enchanted Broccoli Forest and learning about ingredients beyond leafy greens and tofu…and meat and potatoes.

I believe that experience, more than any other, introduced me to the concept of varied eating and made me aware of how it would benefit myself and how it impacts the rest of the world. Plus I had parents willing to openly discuss their politics on such matters with myself…generally in contrast with each other, but without judgement. Yeah, that’s pretty effin’ cool.

But I digress.

Point being, I had a pretty wonderfully set stage for my own parenthood when it came to food and politics. Then came my in-laws, who (bless ‘em) would openly argue such things but were also completely committed to a certain level of self-sufficiency through maintaining a massive vegetable garden every year and who, despite our differences, imparted a wealth of knowledge to myself in assisting me in doing the same and, in so doing, shaped my children’s appetites.

What all of that boils down to, really, is involvement, variety and discussion. About a month ago the daughter came home and demanded we eat one vegetarian meal a week in order to make a healthier impact on the environment. Pointing out to her that we already did that (breakfasts and lunches are almost always vegetarian and vegetarian suppers in our house happen at least 4 out of 7 nights a week) lead to a discussion on how we could do it better. The sprogs assist in creating meals (they know the secret to fluffy yorkshire pudding) and contribute to grocery lists and are good for half a clue toward the cost of keeping food in our collective bellies. They know the rule is, no matter what the context, they have to try at least two bites of everything on their plate. That said, they’re absolutely allowed to dislike anything and everything (hey, I still don’t cook Brussels sprouts) but it’s their responsibility to come up with a comparably healthy alternative to whatever they’re rejecting. They’ve been responsible for creating their own (healthy) lunches since kindergarten (I’m so mean) and to do it according to the Canada Food Guide. They have free reign over fruits and vegetables as snacks but must ask first for anything else.

I don’t believe any of this is too much different than what’s happening in most Canadian households but if tossing around ideas helps then I’m happy to put my thoughts and methodologies out there.