beauty.

I can not tell you how thrilled I was to unpack a box of groceries the other day and find the small paper bag containing these tomatoes.

I nearly couldn’t eat them – I was so taken by their beauty that I just wanted to sit and stare.

I gazed at them on every lovely surface I could come up with (the white stove top, the pale blue platter, the yellow tablecloth, the green couch).

I sniffed them: they smelled like the memory of a garden from childhood.

Aren’t they gorgeous? Days later, I am still rapturous at the very thought of them.

After ogling them for a while longer and spending considerable time deciding how best to enjoy them, I made this sauce.

Then everyone in my family ate it.

And that, friends, is why I love food.

Fabulous Sauce from Fabulous Tomatoes

This is one of my favourite simple no-cook pasta sauces, but it also makes a great salad if, like I did recently, you discover partway through your preparations that there is no pasta to be had in the house. This is also one of the rare times when I have to insist that you use the best olive oil you can get.

3-4 large heirloom tomatoes
1 tsp sugar
1 tsp sea salt
freshly ground pepper
1/2 good quality extra-virgin olive oil
2 tbsp finely chopped chives
2 tbsp finely chopped basil
1 (340g) ball mozzarella, cut into small-ish cubes

Bring a medium pot of water to a boil. Lightly score each tomato with a sharp knife, then plunge the tomatoes into the boiling water (you may need to do this in batches) for just a minute or two, to facilitate peeling.
Scoop the tomatoes out of the water and peel them, then cut each tomato in half and remove the seeds. Core and coarsely chop tomatoes.
Place tomatoes in a large, non-reactive mixing bowl and toss gently with sugar, salt, and a few grindings of pepper. Let sit at room temperature a minimum of two hours, and as many as eight.
When nearly ready to serve (ie. while your pasta is boiling), add chives, basil and mozzarella to tomatoes and toss gently.
Makes sauce for about 450g of pasta, or salad for six.


excess.


I have a confession to make: I am not really a fan of leftovers.

When confronted with them, I don’t find myself inspired to create marvelous dishes that are greater than the sum of their parts; instead, I think longingly of those food disposal units that would allow me to stuff the uneaten portions of our meals down the drain and grind them into oblivion.

For some reason, I find opening the fridge to the sight of shelvesful of little containers a bit anxiety-provoking, and I would be quite happy if they were to simply disappear without my having to give them a thought (and to be fair, they often do, thanks to my husband, whose appetite is tremendous and somewhat less discerning than mine).

The leftovers problem becomes complicated when I acknowledge that generally, when cooking, I prefer an abundance of ingredients. Because we are only four, and only two of us can really be said to actually consume our meals, the result is that I tend to make quantities of food from which leftovers are inevitable.

So basically, I go to as much trouble to generate leftovers as I do to avoid dealing with them once they’ve been created.

I know, it’s a problem.

But we’re not here (well, not really) to delve too deeply into my complicated relationship with food. We’re here to celebrate the fact that, when I was dispirited by the bits and pieces floating around our fridge one recent rainy day, I decided to make these pancakes for lunch. All four of us gobbled them up, and there wasn’t a leftover to be had.

Corn and Cheese Pancakes

I processed the corn kernels in deference to our baby, but you could just as easily leave them whole and stir them in at the end with the cheese.

1c fresh or frozen corn kernels
2 eggs
1/2c olive oil
2c buttermilk
2 tsp sugar
1c whole wheat flour
1/2c corn meal
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp smoked paprika
1 heaped cup grated cheese (I used cheddar)
a little butter, for the pan

Process corn kernels in the food processor (if frozen, they will make quite a racket). Add eggs, oil, buttermilk and sugar and process until combined.

In a large mixing bowl, stir together flour, corn meal, baking soda, and paprika. Add corn mixture to flour mixture and stir until just combined. Gently fold in cheese.

Heat a large heavy pan on medium-high heat. Melt a little butter in the pan.

Make pancakes in batches, using a quarter-cup measure. Cook each pancake about 3 minutes per side.

My husband and I ate ours with salsa and sour cream, my daughter had hers with maple syrup, and the baby ate his au naturel.

Makes 14.


waking and baking.

(with sheepish thanks to my friend Eden, from whose delightful blog post I ripped off this title)

We all have our morning rituals, the idiosyncratic routines without which we spend the rest of the day feeling slightly off.

Personally, although I have learned to live largely without caffeine these last couple of years, and my drinking alcohol in the morning is limited to the occasional mimosa, I find it very, very difficult to begin my day without some kind of baking, preferably still slightly warm from the oven.

During the recent heat wave in our city, it took me several days of being out of sorts and saying ferocious things to anyone I met who dared utter the words, “we have air conditioning, but we prefer not to use it unless we really need it,” before I realized that a large part of my attitude problem had to do with eating a cold breakfast every morning.

Necessity being the mother of invention (and greed being an incredibly powerful motivator), I decided to try to come up with a warm weather-friendly strategy: rather than giving up the waking and baking altogether, the trick was to make up a recipe so easy and fast that the kitchen barely had time to heat up before I was pulling some yummy thing out of the oven.

With the help of my willing family and what must be the hardest-working ceiling fan in the GTA, I came up with these muffins.

And I have to tell you that, even though the temperature is more moderate now than it was last week, I still can’t get enough of them.

Muffins for Hot Mornings

3 very ripe bananas
1/2c oil (I use coconut oil because I’m obsessed with it these days, but go ahead and use whatever you’ve got)
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1/2c thawed apple juice concentrate
1 2/3c whole wheat flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
1 tbsp instant espresso powder
3/4c chocolate chips

In a food processor, combine bananas, oil, eggs, vanilla and apple juice concentrate and process until smooth.
In a small bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, baking powder, and espresso powder.
Add flour mixture to food processor and process until all ingredients are combined.
Scrape batter into a large mixing bowl and fold in chocolate chips.
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
While oven is preheating, line a 12-cup muffin tin with paper cups.
Divide batter evenly among muffin cups, and bake 17 – 18 minutes.
Remove from heat (and turn oven off immediately!) and cool 10 minutes or so in pan before transferring to a wire rack.
Serve immediately, or allow a little time to cool.
Makes a dozen.


…get out of the kitchen.


I was chatting with a friend the other day about the heat.

She and I are in similar circumstances: our kids are the same age, and neither of our husbands is often around during the dinner hour. We are also both, at the moment, living without air conditioning; and it has been very, very hot and humid in our city these past couple of weeks.

We were discussing the indignity of having to get dinner on the table when it’s 30 degrees both inside and out and you’re outnumbered by your children, and our conversation went something like this:

Me: You know, I am so tired and hungry by that point in the day that I can’t cope with making a salad. And I refuse to turn on the stove. I’m embarrassed to tell you how many nights we’ve had the cereal supper in our house this past week alone.

My Friend: I know, it’s too much. Although I will eat a salad, as long as it has lots of cheese in it.

Me: Oh, I love cheese in a salad. And croutons.

My Friend: And nuts.

Me: And a side of sausage.

As grateful as I was to learn that I am not the only one who struggles with the dinner hour these days, I do recognize that, heat wave or no, the cereal supper is not something every mother would like to commit to on a long-term basis.

(I’d like to mention at this point that I used to love hot weather, and I have not had air conditioning my entire adult life. Hot weather, for me, used to mean cold bubble baths and dinners that consisted of drinks on ice.

Since having my children, though, I find that when the heat is on, nobody in our house sleeps well through the night; we move through the days with our energy sapped; and we find excuses to spend time in our climate-controlled car.

In fact, these days, I find that too much hot weather makes me a little angry.)

However, I think I may have come up with a reasonable alternative. Since discovering this recipe (thank you, Sara!), I have made it three times, varying it a little each time. The one you see here is my favourite so far – side of sausage optional.

Asparagus Salad
Adapted from Culinerapy

1/2c red wine vinegar
1/2c extra virgin olive oil
freshly ground pepper to taste
2 bunches asparagus, trimmed
1c roasted walnuts, chopped
1 1/2c crumbled feta

In a large bowl, whisk together vinegar, oil, and salt & pepper. Chop asparagus crosswise, and add to bowl along with walnuts and feta.
Toss gently.
Refrigerate a couple of hours before serving.

Serves four.


go local.




Our favourite farmer’s market opens this morning, and we can’t wait to go.

Situated in a beautiful spot and surrounded by walking trails and great views, this market also has great coffee, live music, and planned activities for children.

Oh, and the produce on offer is pretty great too – although, as what I have written so far will tell you, I don’t really go to the farmer’s market for the produce.

I go for the inspiration, the colours and sounds and smells; for a great cup of coffee and a hand-held breakfast enjoyed in the company of people who are as into food as I am.

I still can’t get over the abundance and diversity of things available to us in southern Ontario, and there is not a time of year more inspiring than this one.

This morning I am hoping to get some local strawberries, so that I can make the best hot weather dinner ever:

Local Strawberry Shortcakes

There are three components to this heavenly supper – I start by making the shortcakes in the morning, before it gets too hot; then I get the strawberries ready and let them sit, covered, in the least warm part of the kitchen. Just before we eat, I whip the cream.

For the shortcakes:
2c whole wheat pastry flour
1 tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2c cold butter
1c sour milk, sour cream, or buttermilk
1 tsp vanilla
1 tbsp sugar

Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

In a large bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, and baking soda.

Cut in butter until mixture resembles coarse sand. Stir in milk, vanilla, and sugar until dough just barely comes together.

Turn dough out onto a floured surface and knead 11 times (not more, not less! This is the secret to perfect shortcakes!). Roll dough into a rough rectangle, and cut into 8 pieces. Gently pat the pieces into rounds and place on a parchment-lined baking sheet.

Bake 8-10 minutes, until golden. Cool completely on a rack.

For the strawberries:
about 4c sliced strawberries (from 2 or 3 containers of fresh strawberries, washed and hulled)
2-3 tbsp brown sugar

In a large bowl, combine strawberries and sugar and toss well. Cover and set aside for a few hours.

For the cream:
2c whipping cream, chilled
1 tbsp vanilla
2 tbsp sugar

Whip all ingredients together until soft peaks form.

I don’t expect anyone needs directions as to how to proceed from here…

See you at the market!


salad days.


I have come to realize that I may be overly fixated on the weather.

We all joke that discussing the forecast is one of our national pastimes, and I’ve noticed lately that I actually am one of those cliched Canadians whose conversational gambits often begin and end with, “Isn’t it a [insert appropriate adjective here] day?”

It’s not the worst thing to talk about, but I could do with some new subject matter.

The trouble is, I have not been keeping up well with the news lately; I know nothing about sports; and my taste in music is both un-current and probably a little pedestrian to anyone who might actually like to talk about music with me.

Of politics in my city I know shamefully little, and I am late to register my daughter for school in the fall, so I avoid that subject at all costs.

I do love to shop, but the various vintage treasures that I’ve unearthed at bargain prices may not be of interest to everyone I meet – and besides, I have declared a pre-move moratorium on acquisitions (and how that is going for me is the stuff of a whole other epic conversation).

So you can see why, at a loss for small talk, I drift back to my old reliable, the weather.

Aside from the polite innocuousness of weather-related chat, discussing the forecast also offers the opportunity to segue into my absolute favourite topic, which is, as you have no doubt realized by now, what I am going to eat next.

And today, because it is a beautiful May day, that happens to be the salad you see here.

Barley Salad
adapted from Food and Wine

I actually made this over the weekend, but it makes quite a bit and it tastes better every day.

1 1/2c pearl barley
1c roasted almonds, coarsely chopped
5 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1/2c olive oil
1 garlic clove, minced
1 tsp lemon zest
1c packed Italian parsley leaves
1c crumbled feta

Cook barley in a large pot of boiling, salted water until tender, about 20-25 minutes. Drain and rinse under cold water to cool. Shake out excess water.

Meanwhile, whisk together lemon juice, olive oil, garlic and lemon zest in a large bowl. Add barley, parsley, and feta and toss gently. Stir in chopped nuts, toss again, add some salt and pepper if desired, and serve.

Serves 4-6, depending on your desire for leftovers


simple and good.


There are certain foods that are perfect for certain moods.

If I am deeply overtired in a physical way, I need to have a grilled cheese, fries with mayo, or pancakes and bacon (yes, I have discovered that hangover foods are also a great balm for the overtired body); but when I am feeling world-weary, I turn to smooth, soothing pureed soups.

When I am bleating and blue and the weather is not doing what I’d like, it’s a lemon square and some Earl Grey tea with amaretto.

When funds are plentiful and I am grateful for all that life has to offer, I roast a duck and insist on really good wine with it.

And when everything just feels simple and good, nothing is more perfect to eat than my mother’s lemon pie.

My mom was here visiting last week, and we had the best time.

It’s nearly impossible these days to have an uneventful week at our house, but last week we came pretty close – no birth, no insanely prolonged labour (or preparations for either event), no – well, not too many – raging hormones or eviction notices or husband travelling; and on the home front, no kitchen cupboards needing painting or garden needing planting.

My mom hadn’t been here in eight months, so we spent our week enjoying her company and planning for her next visit, which will happen in our new house.

Oh, and we drank and ate indulgently all week.

The last day my mom was here, she and my daughter made this lemon pie, and its billowy brightness kept me going through what might otherwise have been several days of moping in her absence.

Simple and Good Lemon Pie
I usually buy three lemons for this, but often I only need two.

1/2c cornstarch
1c sugar
3c boiling water
4 eggs, separated
2 tbsp butter
1/4 tsp vanilla
1 tbsp lemon zest
1/2c lemon juice
1/4 tsp cream of tartar
1/3c sugar

Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

Use your favourite pie crust recipe to line an 8- or 9-inch pie plate. Bake for 10-12 minutes, until golden. Cool completely.

Reduce oven heat to 400 degrees.

Prepare filling while crust is cooling: In a medium saucepan, combine cornstarch and 1 cup sugar. Place saucepan over medium heat, and gradually add boiling water, stirring constantly until thickened.

Lightly beat egg yolks in a small bowl. Stir a small amount of hot mixture into eggs yolks, then beat egg yolk mixture back into saucepan. Cook a further minute, stirring constantly. Remove from heat and stir in butter vanilla, lemon zest and juice.

Using a rubber spatula, scrape filling into prepared pie crust.

Make meringue: Place egg whites in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Beat on medium high speed about 30 seconds to combine, then add cream of tartar. With the mixer running, gradually add sugar and continue beating until stiff, glossy peaks form.

Top pie with meringue, using a spatula to ensure that filling is completely covered with meringue.

Place in 400 degree oven for 5 minutes or so, until meringue is golden.

Cool to room temperature before serving.


made with love.


When I was in my twenties, I baked and decorated specialty cakes (usually wedding cakes) for people as a way of making extra money.

I didn’t love doing it, if I’m being totally honest – I was pretty anti-wedding at that point in my life, and I also felt very uncomfortable with the highly-charged emotional force-field that seemed to surround every bride I encountered.

I also found that when people asked for a special cake for an occasion, they tended to forget that the cake is also actually food, and not just an elaborate decorative extravaganza to be endlessly manipulated.

I often wound up feeling like an artist (remember, I was in my twenties) whose medium was not being respected.

Still, I kept at it for some time, partly for the money, but also because I got a secret thrill out of the look on the recipient’s face when they saw the finished creation.

Even though I didn’t often know them well (and on some occasions I didn’t even wish them well), it pleased me to play a small part in making their special day go a little better.

Once those wedding and specialty cake-baking days were safely behind me, though, I never looked back.

Until this weekend.

I have to tell you that I loved every minute of making this cake.

I made it for a dear friend’s daughter (who is also my daughter’s dear friend). She was turning four, and she is deeply embedded in her mermaid phase. Her mother, like me, is pretty ambivalent about the idea of little girls having barbies, but we both agreed that maybe a mermaid barbie wasn’t too too bad – and besides, the kitschy nature of this made it irresistible to both of us.

(And really, the idea of wrapping a barbie up in saran wrap and plunging her into the middle of an edible skirt? As my mother pointed out, there is probably an on-line community of people who fetishize that kind of thing!)

The birthday girl was thrilled, which would have made it all worthwhile even if it hadn’t been fun; and when one of the other mothers at the party asked me if I did this kind of cake-creation on a regular basis, I was happy to be able to answer that I only do it for people I know and love.

Mermaid Barbie Birthday Cake

Here’s what I did, and if anyone out there wants more specifics, please let me know:

I used my favourite layer cake recipe (one that makes two 8″-round cakes) and doubled it, twice. I divided the first doubled recipe between a 9″-round wedding cake pan and a medium-sized Pyrex bowl, both buttered and lined with parchment. The second doubled recipe went into two 8″-round layer cake pans, also buttered and parchment lined.

I baked the cakes two at a time in a 350-degree oven. They took between 30 and 45 minutes (the one in the Pyrex bowl took the longest).

Once the cakes were cooled, I used a champagne flute to make a barbie-sized hole in the middle of each layer.

Then I made a double batch of my favourite basic butter icing recipe, and coloured it with sky blue food colouring gel. I set half the icing aside for the final coat, and used half to fill the layers and cover the outside of the cake for a thin crumb coat.

Once the crumb coat was set, I wrapped the barbie in plastic wrap (I made a plastic turban for her hair) and plunged her into the centre of the cake, arms up.

Then I did the final coat of icing, reserving a bit to pipe onto barbie’s naked chest to create the appearance of a bodice for the dress.

I decorated the cake in keeping with the undersea theme, and once all of the icing was set I took barbie’s hair out of its plastic-wrap turban.

Et voila! Mermaid cake for 20!


letting the days go by.


I know I am not the only mother who sits down from time to time (I could end that sentence right there) and marvels at how I got here.

I haven’t forgotten how it all came to be – it happened so quickly, and so recently, that it’s still very fresh in my mind – but I do marvel.

I marvel that five years ago right around now, I was single, with a very lightweight secret crush on a guy I barely knew; loving the spring weather, and thinking about spending some time in another city, just for a change of scene.

You can guess, I am sure, what the next phase looked like: my lightweight crush became my great love, and spending time in another city became moving my entire life to begin anew with that same love – who, in turn, became the father of my children and then my husband.

We’re just about to move into a new house, another brand new start for the two of us, who have been lucky enough to have many of those already in our relatively brief time together.

Before I met him, I would never have considered myself a romantic.

This is one of the first dishes I ever cooked for him, and it remains a favourite.


Once in a Lifetime Chicken and Coleslaw

This recipe is easily doubled, or tripled, for a crowd, and it’s even better the next day.

4 tbsp brown sugar
2 tbsp rice vinegar
6 tbsp lime juice
6 tbsp fish sauce
4 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp sesame oil
4 tbsp soy sauce
4 cloves garlic, crushed
700 g boneless, skinless chicken thighs
1/4c finely chopped fresh mint
1 package (454g or 1 lb.) coleslaw

In a shallow bowl large enough to hold chicken pieces, whisk together sugar, vinegar, lime juice, fish sauce, olive oil and sesame oil until well combined. Remove 3/4 cup of liquid from the bowl; reserve.

To make marinade, add soy sauce and garlic to the mixture in the bowl and stir well. Add chicken pieces; toss to coat, cover, and marinade as long as you can (minimum 20 minutes, maximum 4-5 hours).

Stir mint into reserved 3/4 cup of liquid to use as dressing for the coleslaw.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Use tongs to transfer chicken pieces to a well-oiled shallow baking dish large enough to hold chicken in one layer. Bake, basting occasionally with marinade, until thighs are cooked through, 20-30 minutes. Let rest about 10 minutes before serving.

While chicken is resting, toss coleslaw with dressing.

Serves 2, generously.


separation (anxiety).


When I found out I was pregnant the first time, I thought I’d be a capable-but-remote mother. I have never particularly liked children, and had never intended to have any of my own; but I was prepared to take the responsibility seriously and try to do well at my job.

I couldn’t have imagined, then, the rabbit-hole that is falling messily and helplessly in love with your babies.

As it turns out, far from being remote (or, some days, even very capable), I am a mother who actually can’t stand being away from her kids.

I can’t describe the mixture of anxiety and guilt and mild heartbreak that I feel when I have to do something without them for more than an hour. Of course, I can function without having them with me constantly, but I don’t like it one bit.

But yesterday morning, by the time my children and I had hobbled through several hours of games and puzzles and baking and bathing and breakfast, and it was not even 8:00, I was looking for something much stronger than milk to add to my insultingly decaffeinated coffee.

And I also felt an unfamiliar sensation.

I couldn’t put my finger on it until my husband, bless him, offered to take the kids out, and I realized that what I was feeling was the need to not see them for a little while.

That feeling didn’t last long, but while it lasted I took advantage: I pulled a chair out onto the back deck, put my feet up on the railing, and gobbled up this last breakfast bar in blissful silence.

Breakfast Bars

These are a great breakfast, eaten slightly warm with a bit of yogurt drizzled on top. They are also an excellent take-along snack, treaty but healthy and yummier than store-bought granola bars.

1c brown sugar
2 eggs
1/2c oil (I use melted coconut oil, but any vegetable oil would do)
1 tbsp vanilla
1 1/2c oats
1c whole wheat flour
1/4c wheat germ
1/4c unsweetened coconut
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp cardamom
1c chopped dried apricots
1/4c craisins
1/4c chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line an 8″ square pan with parchment.

In a large bowl, beat together brown sugar, eggs, oil, and vanilla. Stir in oats.

In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, wheat germ, coconut, baking powder, and cardamom. Add dry ingredients to wet, and stir to combine. Stir in apricots, craisins, and chocolate chips.

Spoon mixture into prepared pan. Place a sheet of plastic wrap over mixture and, using the plastic wrap as an aid, press batter very firmly and evenly into the pan.

Remove plastic wrap, and bake 35 minutes, or until lightly browned. Cool in pan, on a rack, for as long as you can stand it before cutting into squares.