Or should I aptly rename it: An Introduction to My New Best Friend Michelle. Michelle hosts the blog Sugar and Spice and sent me the most wonderful package. You see, there's this lovely event that takes place amongst some bloggers, so nicely organized ...
Yesterday was my daughter's birthday. It's become a bit of a tradition and now her birthday dinner consists of her year's list of favourite things. Apps, entrée, sides, beverage, heck, even the dinner music is chosen by said truly. Amazing thing is that the family ...
Officially spring when the weeds beat out the flowers - even in the grocery store. Today was one of those exciting days at the market. Everywhere I turned there was new, fresh seasonal produce. I was greeted by thin, crisp greens, herbs and miniature everything like these potatoes ...
My ever problem solving daughter is always creating new suggestions for dinner and desserts; favourites like Mialita, Chuchetta and the like. Her recipes, with the addition of marshmallows, ketchup and eggs kind of remind me of that show that aired around here in the 80's I always wanted to go on, "Just Like Mom" But this morning, when I rolled out of bed complaining of still feeling under the weather from the night before, she suggested Magic Soup. Magic soup is something that we've made before and she will eat it. All of it, as if it were well, like, magic. First she'll tell me onion, then a carrot, some tomatoes maybe a little celery if she's daring and somehow this soup is normal... soothing and delicious, kind of like Minestrone. Although my barren stomach felt it couldn't handle much more than the thought of dry toast, her idea of this to make me better was just what I needed. Like the kiss on the forehead you'd get from your mom when you were sick, I got one from my five year old and her bowl of soup.
You know, the apples with sticks, or at least this is how candy apples are commonly known around my house. We can't get through October without bobbing one of our fresh apples from the orchard in molten sugar. So quick and fun, this autumn carnival snack is a must do, especially if you have kids or, of course, if you still are one.
One of my most favourite places to explore is any neighbourhood China Town. Bustling with people, new aromas, and spilling produce, this exciting area of most major cities is a feast for the eyes. Here in Toronto, tucked a few blocks over from the mainland China Town is a small but wonderful Japanese store. After refilling my wasabi prescription, I gaze along the long aisles of offerings. Included are various teas, Hello Kitty Pocky sticks, every shade of miso, enoki mushrooms and of course, noodles. Wheat, rice, green tea, tofu, ramen, udon and soba noodle varieties ready for any dish the Far East has ever created. How elated was I to discover that soba is the name for buckwheat in Japanese? For those of you who weren't sure, like me, buckwheat is neither a grass or related to the wheat family. It's a flowering plant which produces the seeds for great things like pillows and yes, buckwheat flour. Asian noodle soup has to be in my top list of most amazing meals. The simplicity of them makes them satisfying and perfect. The noodles and broth create a host bowl for just about any combination imaginable.
Back when I was younger and maybe a little more daring, dinners at home were sure tear jerkers. My room mate and I at the time would frequently bring home or make our own sushi. In fact, it was our equivalent to most other twenty something's macaroni and cheese. About a bottle of sake later, the games would begin.... Starting with a fleck, then working up to a gob, we would up each other's wasabi intake. For those unfamiliar with the powers of the great green Japanese horseradish, wasabi most closely resembles a spicy hot mustard sensation. Serving our sushi with it's typical Wasabi-joyu, soy sauce combination for dipping, we embraced the festivities, upping the ante with the additional blob atop the sushi itself. You see, when wasabi is a even a little over loaded, the sensation is nothing like the burning tongue of a pepper. Starting with a tingle, it continues, flurrying up your nasal passage, stopping only at the bottom of your eye, usually finishing with a tear and a jolt of adrenaline. Watching someone suffer is not only entertaining, but addictive, which, I suppose is why we did it. As juvenile foodies, I'm sure there is much more mischief we could have been getting ourselves into. But oh, it hurt so good.
Wouldn't it just be the way, when I was confronted with this and a box of dusty, old canning jars: "I'm presuming I can finally recycle these?" We were down in the basement purging of it's overwhelming accumulation to free up movement to the laundry and the like. By ...
Last of glamping, at least for me this year. The days are beautiful, but let me tell you, these late summer nights can get c h i l l y. As lovely as the morning dew and hikes with trees hinting of crimson are, that's all folks, until next year anyway. We just returned from a group camping trip. A trip to cook or not to cook could be the question, but what we did do was Eat For Freedom. The task for the weekend, if you'd want to call it that, was to cook only once, but to cook for the group. The trick was, at it's high point the crowd was pushing 40+ people. Sure, some could opt for the easy route out, cracking open a dozen cans of beans, but these guys were pretty hard core. I was told about successful curries, fresh pies, even home made gnocchi but I think the burritos topped for my favourite. Easy, delicious and vegan, fit to satisfy the 90% carnivorous crowd.
I'm constantly searching for new ways to make a "risotto" dish. I've of course used arborio and tried different grains like barley and quinoa but when I saw these delightfully tiny peperiti staring up at me at the grocers, I knew it was next. That and ...
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