Babette's Feast

When I was in my last year of University I had one class called The Sociology of Media ... or something like that.  Our major assignment for that class was to write a paper about "the media" and its "sociological influences".  Sigh.  Broad enough topic for you?  The Teacher (whom I had little respect for) seemed to think that the only form of "media" worth discussing were television shows.  No discussions about print publications or the 'newest fad' called "the internet".  Instead she prattled on about fictional characters, in fictional towns, in fictional times.  So the assignment sounds easy enough right?  Wrong. 

The problem?

I had one television channel.

One.

The local channel.

As a struggling student, working nearly 40 hours a week and attending Uni full-time my girlfriends that I lived with and I decided that we didn't need cable television. 

Need a break from studying?  Why not head into the living room, turn on 'the channel' and see if 'the show' that was on interested you.  It rarely did.  Just get home from a rough day of folding jeans at the store?  Why not turn on 'the channel' and watch the local politicians debate local issues?  *yawn*  Can't decide whether to listen to music or watch TV while preparing dinner?  Why not turn on 'the channel' and see if the local news broadcast person happens to be visiting a local restaurant ... they never did.

“If you really want to make a friend, go to someone’s house and eat with him … the people who give you their food give you their heart.” ~ Cesar Chavez

ShortStack and Sarina ... circa Grade Six

And if those friends aren't EXACTLY in your area code, well, perhaps a miraculous Vegan-Food-Swap-Angel can help bring two long-lost friends together.  The story is this, dear readers ...

In a land fah-fah-away, there were two young girls ... I should clarify, the land was not the North Pole, despite the photo to the left ... I digress ...

Sarina and I met in Grade Four - we became instant friends and spent many an afternoon giggling, drawing (she was MUCH better than me ... like ... I thought she would become a world famous artist - move over Van Gogh, here comes Sarina!), playing in the pool and if we'd done all our homework her Mom would sometimes let us play on their computer.  That was MEGA exciting 'cause they had COMPUTER GAMES ... think 'black screen with rudimentary white characters that shot out single bullets' ... we're talking PRE-Tetris-awesome'ness ...

As time passed, as it has a habit of doing, we drifted apart.  By mid-Junior high, we didn't really see much of each other ... we went our separate ways ... and after high school we lost touch entirely.

Until ... a few weeks ago!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Sarina contacted me after reading one of my posts about the Vegan Food Swap.  After some generally hilarious backing and forthing on emails, we were teamed up for the August food swap.  And after discovering we lived fairly close to one another ... we decided ... to meet. <duhn-duhn-duhnnnnn>

Walkin' tall ... err ... well all 4'10" of me is trying to be as tall as possible.

Our story begins one sunny morning ... in a galaxy far, far away.  Actually, I lie.  It began in a Target parking lot in upstate New York.  The ShortStack's were headin' South for some Black Friday shopping.  And who better to share in the journey than two South Africans friends who share in our love of all things wine, shopping and Target.  Armed with credit cards, shopping lists, "sensible footwear", synchronized watches and the sheer will to survive the crowds, we left the True North Strong and Free, and headed South ...

 

We left no stone unturned.  No clothing rack un-spun.  No credit card unused.  Our feet throbbed.  Our backs ached.  Our arms felt as though they would fail under the sheer volume of bags we struggled to carry ... and yet, as if guided by only our shopping-instincts, we soldiered on.  It was truly ... a miracle of epic proportions.

Truth be told, I have never been a great shopper.  I find crowds overwhelming.  I'm a shop-local-fan.  And yet, somehow, I abandoned all that I knew to be true about myself ... I wrestled sweaters away from other ladies.  I snarled like a wildebeest at those whom I felt were going to pick-over the last of the knee-high-size-6 "pleather boots" I was eyeing.  I charged toward cashiers with my shopping buggy tires on fire.  I SCREAMED out to my friends when I saw a fresh pile of towels being put out on display ...

I didn't recognize myself ...

The road is long, with many a winding turn ...

I confess.  I love going to meetings.  Wait!  Let me clarify.  I love going to meetings at my "Up North Branch Office".  Not that meetings in Sunny-Brampton, Whimsical Whitby or Majestic-Mississauga are anything to sneeze at friends.  No!  In fact some of my favorite Clients work in the bowels of various Toronto suburbs ...

However, I know that I am not alone in the feeling that there is something horrific about sitting on any of the 400-series highways.  You taunt the angel of death as you try to manoeuvre into the HOV lane. 

You gasp and swerve as Mr. No-Signal veers into that same lane without doing so at the "enter here" zone so CLEARLY painted on the road!  The countless times you've narrowly averted a major pile-up caused by Little-Miss-Twitter-Updater as she sails along at warp speeds weaving in and out of lanes - her indicator light obviously broken as well ... and the oh-too-familiar-feeling of prying your cold-white-knuckles off the steering wheel as you finally pull into the safety of your driveway ...

Imagine for a moment friends, visiting Clients via country roads. 

Arriving to the aforementioned meetings with a smile on your face.  Your mascara not streaming down your face from the tears you wept as pieces of transport-truck-tire flew past you on the off ramp.  Where the only kind of traffic you'll encounter on the way home is a tractor ... a single, solitary tractor.  A tractor that pulls over and waves as you pass him, your windows down because the air is fresh and clean.

There is, however, a drawback to this idyllic scenario. 

So a rabbit walks into a bar ...

I am a sucker for a furry face. Our suburban backyard is an oasis for the neighbourhood "buns".  I could not be happier. I admit to spending a little bit too much time gazing out the kitchen windows watching "the buns" nibble on clover and lounge in the summer sun.  I've also seen what can only be described as "a bun-off" in which two "buns" jumped over one another over, and over, and over again, in some sort of dance.

(It was quote possibly a mating ritual, but this is a 'family blog' and so we'll leave it as "dance" and not really worry too much about what it's all about ...)

"Bun-spotting" has become somewhat of a sport at our house.  The thrill of seeing "bun" in the backyard is matched only by the excitement of seeing MULTIPLE BUNS in the backyard.  It is a thrill, like no other ...

Or so I thought, until a few weeks ago.


“(S)He was swimming in a sea of other people’s expectations. Men had drowned in seas like that.” ~Robert Jordan, New Springs

Perhaps, a tad dramatic, I admit.  But it's been a solid month of non-stop-go-go-go, and the cold-sore on my face means that I've hit a wall.  Although, judging by the size of this cold sore, it looks as though a wall hit me.  In a self-induced-pity-party the other night while doing dishes and making lunches for the next day, I exclaimed with a great sigh "HEAVEN HELP ME I NEED A BREAK!!!"  Then the phone rang.  There was a great discussion.  Then I got all excited about the possibility of a new business opportunity.  My mind began to race.  World domination was within my grasp!  (Or that's what it felt like ...) And when I told DH of my new plans, (a mere 10 minutes after my great exclamation of needing a break) he smiled, nodded his head and without even uttering a word, I knew ... that I was ... quite possibly ... the master of my own demise.  Were it not seconds ago that I believed the weight of the world was in fact resting solely on my shoulders?  The fear that if I stopped to catch my breath ... life as we know it would ACTUALLY come to a grinding halt!  Seas would churn.  Volcano's would begin to rumble.  Nickelback would release another album (snicker-snicker) ...

Brown paper packages, tied up with string ...

Getting mail.  By far - one of the best things ever.  I'm not talking about the over-priced Hydro bill (boo-hiss and what the heck is a 'debt retirement charge' anyways?), or the phone bill (why do we even HAVE a landline anymore?), or even what appears to be a genuine letter ... only to find out that it's a computer-generated-fake-signature letter from your local government representative (can you hear it hitting the side of the recycle bin?).

No friends, I'm talking about "real mail" ... "fun mail" ... like birthday cards from your grandma that have newspaper clippings stuffed inside ... like a postcard from your best friend who still sends you postcards when she's on holiday because she knows how much you love them ... and then ... there's the mother-load-of-awesome'ness ... a brown paper package ... too big to fit in the mailbox ... my heart skips a beat ...

In February, I signed up for a "Vegan Food Swap" - organized by the devilishly clever MeShell In Your City.  She's a Torontonian and a Vegan ... and in my opinion one of the coolest people in the universe for organizing this food swap.  Think "penpal that sends you food".  I know ... I know ... how did you exist so long without knowing about this?  While not a vegan (DH is the son of a butcher, so really, we're a meat-and-potatoes couple), I am a slave to veggies and totally curious about the vegan-lifestyle ... and one of my girlfriends has been a vegan for well over a year and this lady GLOWS, so there's gotta be something to it ... I digress ...

I signed-up for the food swap, not really knowing what to expect - but that was half-the fun ... the other half ... well to be perfectly honest, was panic.  What would I (the non-vegan) be able to send a REAL vegan that wasn't "done before"?  The last thing I wanted was for my new foodie-penpal to open their box and think "wow ... that sucks".   While I stewed about this potential disaster, I received my first email from MeShell ... my first vegan-foodie-penpal was Caroline - over at the Vegan Hammock.  I DASHED to my most fav. 100 mile market and began my hunt for 'vegan things' ...

A few days later, I arrived home to find THIS waiting for me on our messy kitchen table ...

A ShortStack Foodie field trip! A little bit of summer farmers market fun in January ...

Terra at Home Winter Market

No, I have not gone crazy.  No, I have not moved to the sunny south.  Yes, there is a winter-market in North Burlington.  Yes, I clapped my hands WILDLY when I found out.  And yes, I probably bought way more at the market yesterday than DH and I could ever eat ... in a month.  But not to worry - we don't have a month ... we have 5 days 'til we leave for NYC.  Not a problem ... we'll simply balance the vast array of cupcakes and butter tarts with kale salad and root vegetable soup.  That should negate the extra calories ... right?  RIGHT?  *sigh*  No, I didn't think so.  The market opens at 10am, at Terra, on Dundas in Burlington.  There's everything from baked goods like pies, tarts, treats, chocolate ... <pause> ... sorry I just got a little misty thinking about this one piece of peanut butter-marshmallow-fudge sitting on the kitchen counter ... I thought I heard it calling me ... where was I?  Oh yes ... there's smoked fish, winter veggies, sweet potato EVERYTHING, coffee, tea, lavender, popcorn, soaps, artisan crafty-type-things ... not to mention gorgeous potted plants, herbs, flowers ... all enclosed in a beautiful, warm greenhouse.  Ladies and gentlemen, heaven does exist ... it's in a greenhouse, and they're serving butter-tarts.

So what did I do with my haul of produce, meats 'n treats? Well ...

Henry Miller got it wrong ... but the Christmas spirit helped us get it oh-so-right.



Henry Miller once said "Americans can eat garbage, provided you sprinkle it liberally with ketchup, mustard, chili sauce, Tabasco sauce, cayenne pepper, or any other condiment which destroys the original flavor of the dish."  I'm going to say it.  He's wrong.  Really, really, really wrong.  Aside from having had some of the best meals of my life in the country to the South, and having a personal love affair with all things hot-sauce, this guy was not lucky enough to have tasted my chili sauce.  Otherwise he never would have said such horrible things.  Did that sound boastful?  *sigh*  Such a delicate and fine line between boastfulness and sheer-unadulterated PRIDE in a recipe that would bring you to your knees ... did I cross the line again?  *double sigh*  Let's begin our story ...

This past Christmas I was in charge of providing my French Canadian flock with baked beans and tourtière for our Réveillon dinner.  This is "my thing".  I've finally got the bean-recipe down to a science and while the tourtière recipe continues to evolve it always brings about great conversation 'round the dinner table that night.  (In all honesty, a table of "frenchies" and one too many festive-beverages normally results in seemingly endless discussions about less-than-earth-shattering-things ... but we'll save that conversation for the therapy couch ...)  Christmas dinner was to be a wondrous buffet of stinky cheeses, pickled delights, pâtés, fresh breads and a veggie-tray large enough to span the Grand Canyon.

My plans for world domination bean and tourtière prep were all in hand.  I knew what I had to tackle for the Christmas buffet.  The list of baking for the neighbours was taped to the kitchen cabinet.  The groceries were set to be delivered.  We were almost packed for our journey up North.  I could TOTALLY get all the baking and cooking done in 4 days.  All while continuing to wrap last minute presents, sip eggnog by the fire with DH and watch holiday films.  I could almost hear the Christmas carols playing in the distance.

Enter "the plague".

Turns out it IS easy bein' green ...

If you listen closely you can hear a few flakes falling on the hills ... snow ... my heart is all a flutter.

What this means, dear reader, is that ski season FAST APPROACHES!  All my good intentions of increased cardio and strength training for the upcoming ski season have fallen by the wayside.  Instead, it's been home renos, long commutes and early mornings in an attempt to bring good marketing and advertising to the world.  Yes, 'real life' has taken over.  Sound the alarm. 


On my most recent 'commute' up to Gods country I was amazed at the amount of snow that had blanketed the hills.  Farmers fields were covered.  Mounds of hay now resembled abominable snowmen.  Cows and horses looked confused, as though they too had woken up and realized that winter was upon them.  The sheep seemed smug in their prefab woollen sweaters ... but that's a separate issue altogether ...

A sense of panic overcame me.  With each passing year I am less able to BOUND from my bed and hit the ski hill without a care in the world.  While still far from 'old age', each year sadly does produce a number of new aches and pains.  And with an intense distaste for structured aerobic fun (exception being yoga of course), I turn to food to bring me increased energy, a reduced waistline and the power to THROW MYSELF OFF MOUNTAIN TOPS!!!! 

Ladies and gentlemen - the months of green smoothies are upon us.  Long gone are the weekly farmers markets brimming with fresh, local produce.  It's time to grab your blenders, magic bullets, vita-whats-its and let's get this annual show on the road ...

Fall walks and cozy nights by the fire ... throw in Prince Charming and we've got one heck of a splendid evening ...

The weather has FINALLY started to turn. The mornings are cooler, the evenings cooler still. The leaves crunch beneath our feet and as I type this entry I'm out "in the country" staring out at a forest, the colours of the leaves still clinging to the trees, look like fire. We clap our hands wildly in anticipation of woolly sweaters, scarves, fireside cuddles and mugs of steaming hot soup. Dear readers, grab yourself a blankie, stoke the fire, and cuddle up with your fav. book (dog, cat, better half, whatever or whomever) – this soup was made for sippin’. Embrace the shorter days ... winter fast approaches ... I think it just started to snow!!! 

 

Pureed Squash and Apple Soup

BEFORE WE BEGIN ...
There is a 'variation' to this recipe ... I call it "Cinderella Soup".  Why Cinderella?  Well, on the most recent go-round of this recipe I had a little pumpkin sitting on the counter.  It stared at me.  I stared back.  I thought, perhaps this pumpkin could join it's cousin the butternut squash in the roasting pan.  And TADA Cinderella Soup was born!  So, if you're running late for the ball, missing a glass slipper, or have a horse-drawn carriage 'honking' outside your front door, please know, dear reader, that this recipe can bubble along quite nicely in a crock pot while you busy yourself trying to score a dance with Prince Charming.  Bibbity-bobbity-BOO!
 

You will need: sharp knife, cutting board, Y-vegetable peeler (or other peeler … Y is our fav.), food processor or blender- up to you, roasting pan, soup pot, measuring cups n spoons, fireplace, glass of red wine and something JAZZY playing in the background …  

It comes but once a year ... kind of like Christmas ... only better ... and without Santa .... it's actually not like Christmas at all ... it's also a heck of a lot more work, but oh-so worth it!

Monday, October 1st, 2012

 

one day only

 

40 pizzas

 

20lbs of bolognese sauce

 

will there be any survivors?

 

only time will tell ...

 

 

Bring on ... the 3rd annual

Cook-a-thon

feeding hungry men since 2010

 

 

 



 



Fresh Fest at the Ontario Food Terminal

This past Saturday, armed with my trusty vegan-sidekick, we drove into 'the big city' and went where no veggie-nerd had gone before!  A million thank yous to all the vendors who so graciously opened their stalls for us to snoop around in.  For as long as I can remember I've wanted to know "what goes on in there?"  And now I do.  It's about fourth generation produce-guys keeping the family business alive.  It's about getting fresh produce out to local vendors and local markets across the GTA and beyond.  It's about talking to vendors about various kinds avocados, spuds, lemons and fruits I can't even pronounce. It's about a little girl who handed me a bag and said "my dad said to fill up this bag with tomatoes - you can even give us a donation for FoodShare".  My heart melted and I dug deep into my pocket - you just knew that she was the next vendor-in training.  Her father beamed.  There was this overwhelming sense of 'hope' - I know that probably sounds corny (pardon the produce-pun), but the being surrounded by people who loved food ... FRESH FOOD ... well, it made us feel like maybe, just maybe, 'real food' will return to more family tables.  That is of course, if we left any produce behind ... I'm not kidding we couldn't have fit another single solitary carrot in our car :)  What a fab day out - and what a fab cause. So glad we could be part of it ...

 

 

 



 

 

Going under the knife?

What's a ShortStack to do?  On my most recent and terrifying visit to the dentist (yup, I'm a total wimp when it comes to dentistry) I was told I need to see an Endodentist.  A what?  Ya' ... that's Dentist-lingo for "Root Canal Specialist".  Once I woke-up from passing out at the mere thought of such a thing happening to little old me, I booked my appointment and have since resigned myself to the fact that although my teeth are in excellent condition (I floss people!) I should be brave, go and see this guy and MAYBE have him tell me that I need to go UNDER THE KNIFE?!?!? 

(I'm French Canadian and try to be as dramatic as possible when it comes to storytelling ... )

But then TODAY ... I read that for the FIRST TIME EVAHHHHH the Ontario Food Terminal is going to open its doors TO THE PUBLIC!  On the same day, at the same time, as my trip to Mr. Endodentist.  My heart breaks. Violins play in the background ...

This event sounds amazing, and being a foodie-nerd I've ALWAYS wanted to go and wander around that place ... and here's my chance ... http://fresh-fest.ca/

So ... I'm taking a poll ...

All those in favor of cancelling the Endodentist appointment and supporting a good cause (see, doesn't it sound less selfish to say that I'm supporting FoodShare?) ... say AYE!

And all those in favor of me missing this most fantastic event, being brave and sticking with the appointment ... say NAY!  (I promise not to hate you.)

Vampire Slayers - start your engines!

Some people get excited for Christmas.  Their birthday.  A wedding.  Thanksgiving.  And sure, these are all worthy of a little fanfare.  But it should be said, that our holiday calendars should be adjusted to include The Garlic Festival in Stratford, Ontario.  Harness your inner Buffy, make sure your fridge is chock-a-block full of butter, your shelves readied with olive oil and get yourselves to this celebration of the stinking rose!  With relatives like onion, leek and chive, no wonder 'garlic' is being celebrated.

To say that we're excited for this annual event would be an understatement of the greatest proportion.  Having just recently bought 6lbs of garlic from "my organic garlic farmer in Duntroon" it's amazing I have any need for more garlic.  But really, one can never have enough garlic and given how much we use in this house, it's a wonder I don't start growing it myself!  If you're looking for something to do this weekend - look no longer.  If you're a vampire ... maybe just stay in and watch a movie or something ... clean your pantry ... just stay put and don't answer the door.  Happy Allium Weekend One & All!

Wax-bean stew - stew what yer mamma gave you!

With an abundance of produce lately (and an abundance of bacon ... I know, I know, it's a hardship) the ShortStacks have been tinkering with some 'summer stew' recipes.  This one, is by far our most fav ... quite likely because we threw in some leftover roasted chicken at the last minute.  And really, who doesn't love an opportunity to use up leftovers? 

As the weather finally begins to turn a bit cooler, it seems like we're almost ready to start thinking about cooler temps, shorter days ... red wine and fireplaces.  All you non-skiers are currently cursing us aren't you?

Grab yourself a cutting board, a sharp knife, a dutch oven and a whole lotta wax beans ... ready, set ... STEW! 

The Summer Harvest, Part 2

I am officially overwhelmed.  Just when I think I've got a handle on my farmers' market addiction ... just when I think I've finally got enough room in my fridge for ONE LAST head of kale, punnet of blackberries or have found an inch of space in the potato bin for one more glorious fingerling ... I get an email from my BFF from Uni ... "BaconFest this weekend - are you in?"  Am I in?  Of course I'm in.  Bacon AND a yet uncharted farmers' market ... my hands tremble as I type this.  Leaving the burbs for the big-city I could almost smell the smoke in the air ... the crackle of the bacon as it sizzled, guiding me thru the streets (well, actually it was my GPS).  Having lived on bacon-inspired dishes for about a 2 week period during Uni, this festival of bacon was about so much more than just salty-meat.  It was about lost loves and term papers.  Bacon, zucchini and brie crepes at 2am after the bars had closed.  Trying to scrape together enough money to buy salmon fillets and baby octopus to grill over a BBQ that launched fireballs into the night sky when we lit it.  Yes, this festival was about who we were ... just now we had more than $10 between us - and oh, how we spent it this past weekend! The Leslieville Farmers' Market is wicked-good.  Farmers from all over, bring with them some of the most gorgeous produce my eyes have ever seen.  Rows upon rows of ruby-red radishes.  Emerald green kale.  Heirloom tomatoes.  Goat cheeses.  Grass raised beef (oh ya' I placed an order for my freezer!!!) Rainbow carrots and fuzzy peaches.  And of course bacon. In particular wild boar bacon, which according to our OFFICIAL bacon tester (and pie connoisseur) is also wicked-good.  (I'm not kidding, this guy knows bacon ... also pie, but that's for another post ...)  Our fav. bacon dish?  It would have to be from the folks at Le Papillon on the Park - buckwheat crepe filled with sauteed apples, white cheddar and bacon, topped with a smattering of maple sugar and fresh berries ... on my list of restaurants to now visit?  Oh he** ya'.  I mean, they have Cretons on the menu <angels sing in the distance> ... I digress ... wanna see more from part 2 of 'the summer harvest'?  

Happy 100th Birthday Julia!

On what would have been her 100th birthday - the ShortStacks would like to take this opportunity to thank her from the bottom of our hearts for being such a strong and amazing woman.  Mastering the Art of French Cooking is a staple in our kitchen - whenever we're in doubt we cry out "how would Julia do it?"  Happy birthday Julia - we'll raise a glass of beurre blanc for you at dinner tonight.

Sand between our toes ...

The ShortStacks were in Oakville this past Saturday - seashells, sand buckets and spades in hand - to help celebrate a milestone birthday!  On the jukebox (okay, it was an ipod), the Beatles belted song after song.  Even Yoko wouldn't have been able to stop her feet from tapping!  On the menu, Mediterranean fare - from the islands of Greece, to the sunny shores of Southern France.  The kiddies splashed in the pool, and the adults beat the heat with libations from the bar ... and a trip or two to fill their bowls with homemade ice cream.  Many thanks for asking us to join you at the seaside Ron - "Don't grow up too quickly, lest you forget how much you love the beach."

See photos from the event ...

The Summer Harvest, Part 1

To say that summer is my least fav. time of year would be an understatement. I'm a skier. I love cold weather. I yearn for snow. Lots of snow. This may be down to being born in Quebec ... however. Summer in Ontario DOES mean one very important thing ... it's farmers market season people!!!  I cannot drive past a roadside farmers stand without stopping (which makes getting to and from Collingwood for meetings less than a short drive home). My fridge BURSTS with fresh greens, berries, tomatoes, green and wax beans ... <drool> ... <she wipes off the keyboard> ... where was I?

It's been a busy week for this ShortStack. Wanna see what I've been up to?  How 'bout we start with this - freezing some GORGEOUS Ontario rhubarb.  My winter cobblers wouldn't be complete without this hit of tart.