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Sorry for the extended lull around here. Since last I posted, I packed up everything Nick and I own (did you know you can vacuum-pack with a regular vacuum and some garbage bags?), put it into five suitcases, brought said suitcases to the airport along with a cat in a small, cramped carrier, and flew across the continent to my ancestral home: New Jersey. I’ve officially moved back East!
Since I’ve been back at the Jersey shore, it’s been nothing but funerals and birthdays, including one birthday cake I would have shared with you had it not failed so miserably. It’s hard getting back into the swing of operating a stand mixer, it turns out!
I am settling in slowly, and my stuffed suitcases still sit in the kitchen of my mother’s house, where I’ve set up camp until I find an apartment in New York City (our ultimate destination), and where I wait anxiously for Nick to make his way east as well.
Recipes and pictures will come, I assure you, but not today. I do promise that I’ll be plotting my next culinary undertaking as I unpack my life, though. See you at the beach!
Ever go to the farmers’ market and find yourself guilted into buying something? Nick and I took a trip down to the Ladner Village Market to check out the scene–140 vendors sounded very interesting. We arrived to find, though, that most of those vendors were selling crafts or prepared foods, which isn’t exactly what we were looking for. Not wanting to have taken the hour-long bus ride for nothing (except some awesome fudge, which we knew would not make it home), we perused the market stalls for any hints of vegetation. I spied a lone woman at a tiny table, poster boards arranged presentation-style around her, and one plastic carton of something that appeared berry-like. I sidled up to her, and she seemed quite happy to have someone to give her spiel to. She was representing a non-profit farm, she explained, that gave area youths an opportunity to learn to grow produce and earn a bit of cash. They were having a bike tour next week, she offered, and maybe we could come along? Nick’s hand being what it is, we had to decline, but I couldn’t bear to walk away without purchasing something. “Are these currants?” I asked. They were, $6 for a very generous pound. Nick asked when the last time we had currants was, and I realized, never. I’d had currant-flavored juice, jam, candies, but never an actual currant. I never liked those other forms, but I thought, why not? I’ll figure out something to do with them. (more…)
So, remember how I said that I’d post what we did with our roasted tomatoes on Saturday? Well, that was before this happened:
Nick broke his fourth metacarpal (read: hand) on Saturday, and we spent the rest of the evening (and almost all of the night) in the emergency room. Fittingly enough, it was his own politeness what did him in. I remember after the very first time I met him, I told my mother what a polite boy he was. Well, I guess all that niceness was bound to catch up with him someday. He went to hold a door for a young lady and wound up instead with a heavy metal door slammed on his left hand. Now his whole arm up to his elbow is in a cast, which translates for me as my #1 dishwasher is out of commission. (By the way, don’t let anyone tell you that Canadian hospital care is bad. Yes, we had to wait, but a hurt little finger tends to get put at the back of the line in any urban emergency ward. But every single employee was nothing if not gracious and jovial. I think that’s the first time I’ve ever been able to say that about a hospital.) (more…)
If there is one thing I drool over when we hit up our local farmers’ markets, it’s tomatoes. The tomato really represents the apex of the heirloom vegetable trend, which is a trend I hope never fades. The pink accordions, green zebras, Dr. Wyche’s yellow…the variety is astounding, and I want to try every single type. Which is kind of funny, seeing as I’m not really a huge tomato fan. Give me a good caprese and I’m happy as a clam, it’s true, but honestly, I’m in it for the cheese. I don’t eat sandwiches that often, and I usually avoid salads because, frankly, they bore me (I know! I’m sorry! I’m working on it!) But when I saw these “Jaune Flamme” orange cherry tomatoes glistening like little jewels in a basket on Wednesday, I had to buy them. I knew I’d figure out what to do with them later. (more…)
Yes, these sure do look like Christmas cookies. (Well, actually, it looks like a PacMan cookie eating another cookie, but anyway...) No, it has not started snowing in Vancouver, and it’s not exactly hot cocoa weather. But before I address the decidedly wintry nature of these cookies I just baked, let me first say this: I firmly believe that it is always time for cookies, and I do not discriminate. A key lime thumbprint in January or a gingerbread in July, it matters not. So long as the word cookie is in there somewhere, it will taste right. (more…)
Even here in Vancouver, where the weather seems to have switched with New York, a la Freaky Friday, some clouds have appeared to break up the incredibly monotonous sunshine. I suppose it’s the nature of being so far north that even when the days are astonishingly warm, as soon as the sun goes away a distinct chill takes over the air. And so it was last night, when, though the meteorological conditions were pleasant enough to enjoy frozen strawberry margaritas on our friends’ roof deck, whenever the sun disappeared behind a cloud it suddenly became sweater weather. There is only one remedy for this kind of fickle weather: a summer tisane. Warm enough to grasp tightly in a mug with cool hands, but fragrant of summer breezes. (more…)
The last time I returned to see my mother after being away for quite a while, she asked I would want most to eat when I got there. I could have chosen anything–her classic chicken divan, her swoon-worthy rice pudding, a great big ball of fresh mozzarella from Drew’s Market (you see we are big cheese lovers around here), her life-altering carrot cake (no exaggeration, as you’ll soon see)–but all I wanted was gazpacho and her Portuguese soup. While all of those other things are truly delightful, sometimes you just want some veggies, and those two soups are the perfect vehicles for them. Hopefully I will share the latter with you soon, but for now, let’s enjoy some gazpacho. (more…)
No recipes here, just two simple salads and a light soup for more summery fare.
One night, we had grilled Italian bread and a beautiful fresh caprese, made with basil, heirloom tomatoes, and velvety burrata mozzarella. I had no idea I was buying such fancy mozzarella at the time, though. I asked for one of the large balls of mozzarella, which I was excited to see at the cheese shop (La Grotta Del Formaggio) because it seems like here in Canada, all anyone sells is bocconcini. Seriously. A pizza with fresh mozzarella is said to have “bocconcini” on top. It’s weird. (more…)
There are certain things that sunny summer dinners on the patio call to mind. Light salads full of heirloom tomatoes, perhaps, or simple barbecued fare adorned with torn bits of herbs straight from the garden; endless pitchers of lemonade (or of mojitos, if your name happens to start with j and end with ulie). There are lots of summery foodstuffs I could name right now. Almond-scented gelatinized heavy cream would probably not be among them. (more…)
