Archive for May, 2009

Donna Hay has solutions for the "No Time to Cook" dilemma.

On a recent afternoon style-maker Donna Hay took a few minutes to talk about her new book  no time to cook, fresh & easy recipes for a fast forward world, (HarperCollinsCanada, $36.95). She was in Toronto from Australia on a whirlwind trip to promote the book, and help celebrate the opening of  the very hip  and happening Teatro Verde's flagship store in the very hip and historic Yorkville.

Say "Donna Hay" and immediately there's a vision of uncluttered, light and  fresh food photography and clean-to-the-bone recipes with inviting flavour twists. Her cookbooks and magazine have a style as distinctive as any in the culinary world. I just can't get the word "clean" or "white" out of my head when I think of Donna Hay food photography. 

So what inspired this star of the culinary world to focus in on quick meals? I'm afraid, the answer is no surprise. She now has two young boys, 3 and 6, and understands, like every other parent the need to feed her family well in spite of arriving home from work dead tired. The solutions she has found for this challenge define the chapters, and inspire the recipes. 

Her first solution is assembled dinners. Better than take-out, still with the cook's own touch but without all the chopping and prep that seems like an unscalable mountain when you get home with a bare 20 minutes to get supper on the table. Store-bought hummus is a favourite "cheat" ingredient, already marinated vegetables, couscous, deli roast beef and canned lentils and beans also figure in these recipes. And she's not embarassed to suggest sandwiches for supper!

Nor is Donna Hay afraid to pick up a barbecued chicken on the way home from work. "It can make so many things", she added. And they don't have to be boring "things" as the cheat's chicken caesar salad and the chicken salad with coconut dressing attest. She's up to to maxxing the flavour of a dish with condiments - Thai, Indian, mustard, pickled ginger, onion jam  - giving appealing flavour twists to simple ingredients like steak and chicken, grilled or broiled  in the simplest way. 

So what's in Donna Hay's fridge at home. "More than most people", she conceded," a couple of cheeses, feta, parmesan and a good Cheddar. Lots of vegetables - broccoli, green beans and snow peas. And eggs - my boys love to bake." The Hay pantry includes the usual pasta, many of them Asian, jasmine and arborio rice, preserved lemon and tuna. Open the door to the freezer and there's frozen berries for the boys' muffin-making sessions, pizza dough, frozen peas and a whole selection of dishes like broccoli & bacon soup Hay makes to have "some now, some later". Donna Hay admits that she thought freezing meals was old-fashioned "best left to my mother's generation", but now relishes the night-off meals she's packed away. 

If you're like Donna Hay, get home, make dinner and sit together to enjoy the fellowship of family, the absolutely last thing you want to do is "the dishes". Solution? One pot meals, and thought-through recipes that pare out the excess bowls, skillets and utensils that fill the sink and plunge a cook into despair. From this section comes a vividly flavoured chicken dish made from very familiar ingredients. Donna Hay recommends this kind of one-pot dish to a fledgling cook who needs a few really tasty easy recipes on which to build a repertoire of quick suppers. 

Lemon-Feta Chicken 

When Donna Hay creates a new recipe, she works out core flavours that work hard together, like lemon and oregano, and never forgets textures so a recipe like this has mellow and crunchy. She likes to serve the chicken and pan juices on a bed of baby spinach leaves - the heat of the chicken wilts the spinach, and voila- an easy vegetable course at the same time. Double the ingredients for more servings.

2 chicken breasts, each about 200 g, trimmed

200 g feta, thickly sliced

5 sprigs fresh oregano

1 tbsp lemon zest

2 tbsp lemon juice

olive oil, for sprinkling

cracked black pepper

green salad, optional 

. Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). 

. Place chicken, feta, oregano, lemon zest and juice in a baking dish. Sprinkle with olive oil and pepper. Bake for 18 minutes, or until chicken is cooked through (juice run clear when pierced with a knife).

. Serve with a simple green salad, or as Donna Hay suggested at our interview, on a bed of baby spinach. 

. Serves 2.

White on white background is often what Donna Hay picks for the food she styles, either for her cookbooks, or for her magazine. The food "pops" in an appetizing and interesting way.

www.teatroverde.com?

          

We learned about the bake-kettle. Cooks of the period often used a stand-alone bake kettle, raised up on trivet, and heated from below with coals raked out of the fire onto the brick extension in front of the hearth. The bake kettle was a convenience  when "putting on the oven" required hours more work than turning the dial or pressing to select temperature and time. The kettle was a convenience as well when the bake oven was already full of bread, cakes and pies, as was ours that day of historic baking bee.

 Coals below and coals above ensure even heat all round the item being baked. The lid, like the bottom of an oval box, fits into the kettle, and is deep enough to hold a generous layer of coals. Our apples, made according to a recipe called "Black Caps" baked up golden brown - no burnt apples for the volunteers under the tutelage of Mya Sanster. 

 

 

 

12 thin slices white sandwich bread

1/2 cup (50 mL) soft butter

1/2 cup (125 mL) currants

5 large eggs

1/2 cup (125 mL) granulated sugar

1 tsp (5 mL) freshly grated nutmeg

Pinch salt

3 cups (750 mL) milk

. Butter a 13- x 9-inch (3 L) glass baking dish or shallow ovenproof dish of similar volume; set aside.

. Stack bread on cutting board; trim thin layer of crust of all edges. Cut crosswise into triangle. Lightly butter all triangles.

. Arrange half of the triangles neatly over the bottom of the baking dish. Sprinkle with half of the currants. Cover with a second layer of bread and butter trianges, and a sprinkle of currants. (Note that for the photos taken at Fort York, Daphne Hart and I overlapped whole bread slices to fit an oval dish.) Set aside.

. In a large bowl, whisk the eggs with the sugar, nutmeg and salt. Whisk in the milk. (Hannah Glasse suggests you can put in 2 spoonfuls of rose water, a widely available flavouring before vanilla took over in the mid 19th century.) Pour evenly over the prepared bread in the baking dish. Let stand for 30 minutes or until the bread has soaked up almost all of the egg mixture.

. Bake in centre of 375°F (190°C) until domed and golden, and a knife inserted into the centre comes out clean, about 40 minutes.

. Let stand for 5 minutes before serving. Makes 8 servings. 

For more information about historic buildings and their kitchens, check out www.toronto. ca/culture/museums.htm

Quick, before anyone mentions apples, saskatoons or partridge berries, think of the fruit that grows in 10 provinces and 2 territories. Rhubarb. Not native to Canada, but an early import that liked its chilly new terroir, Rheum rhabarbarum has staked out a place in Canada's culinary scene, old-fashioned, and contemporary. Before anybody corrects me by saying rhubarb is botanically a vegetable, it is, but usage has quite rightly shifted its rosy and green stalks to the fruit side. 

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On the old-fashioned  and fruit side, count the number of rhubarb pie (rhubarb's nickname is "pie plant"), cakes, muffins,crisps, cobblers, conserves, jams, chutneys, sauces and nectars that have filled Canadian cookbooks from the 19th century. As for  the now scene,with its emphasis on local and seasonal, chefs have embraced the stalks to showcase them as cold soups, compotes, white chocolate trifles, tarts and sorbets. And rhubarb that had a reputation a little like zucchini as in "Whatever am I going to do with all this rhubarb", now sells for $5 a bunch at my local farmers' market, and nobody bats and eye as they buy two bundles, just enough to make a pie, one pie. Saints preserve us!

You can either line the cake pan with parchment paper, or lightly brush with softened butter. An offset spatula is the perfect tool for evening and smoothing the batter.

Of all the rhubarb recipes that have passed through my kitchen over the years, the one that stands out is called "Lunar Rhubarb Cake". As a freelancer I was working on a rhubarb and strawberry story for the 1982 special interest publication, Canadian Living Summertime Cookbook Special with friend and mentor, home economist Sandy Hall. We were discussing various rhubarb cake options when she recalled a cake her mother-in-law made every spring. Adapted to Canadian Living Magazine and tweaked for our tastes, we tested and approved the recipe. I was struck by its appearance.

While the sugar and butter tart are delicious, you can lighten up a bit on them both. See the recipe below for amounts.

A rather generous sprinkle of brown sugar and butter over the top baked into the cake, and pitted in a way that looked a moon landscape. Ta da!  Lunar Rhubarb Cake.

The recipe was published, and within weeks, Lunar Rhubarb Cake recipes popped up in publications from weekly local newspaper to big city dailies and in the following rhubarb season, national magazines like Homemakers. The recipe was always virtually the same, as was the wording about why this homey cake got its name. Then the whole moonscape cake thing died down. But last spring The Cookbook Store (Toronto foodie centre) announced a new rhubarb cookbook featuring more than pies, and guess what! Among the cakes, Lunar Rhubarb Cake. All I can say is that a good recipe gets around. Here it is again - in case you missed it back then.

Lunar Rhubarb Cake

As for all cakes, let the butter, egg and buttermilk come to room temperature before making the batter. Set the oven rack is in the centre of the oven, and preheat just in time to put the cake in the oven.

1/2 cup (125 mL) butter, softened

1-1/2 cups (375 mL) granulated sugar

1 large egg

1 tsp (5 mL) vanilla

2 cups (500 mL) all-purpose flour

 1 tsp (5 mL) baking soda

1/2 tsp (2 mL) salt

1 cup (250 mL) buttermilk

2 cups (500 mL) chopped rhubarb (1/2-inch/1.25 cm pieces)

Lunar Topping

1 cup (250 mL) firmly packed light brown sugar

2 tsp (10 mL)  ground cinnamon

1/4 cup (50 mL) butter, softened

. Line 13- x-9-inch (3.5 L) metal cake pan with parchment paper or butter thoroughly but lightly. Set aside.

. In a large bowl, beat the butter and sugar until well mixed and fairly smooth. Add the egg and vanilla; beat until smooth.

. Set aside 1 tbsp (15 mL) of the flour. In a separate large bowl, whisk together remaining flour, baking soda and salt. Add to butter mixture alternately with buttermilk, making 3 additions of these dry ingredients and 2 of buttermilk.

. Toss rhubarb with remaining flour. Spoon over the batter and fold in. Scrape into the prepared pan, smoothing the top. 

Lunar Topping: In bowl, mix together sugar and cinnamon. With a fork or pastry blender, work butter into the sugar mixture until crumbly. Sprinkle evenly over the batter.

. Bake in the centre of 350°F (180°C) oven until the lunar topping is pitted and crusty and a skewer inserted into the centre comes out clean, about 45 minutes. Let cool on rack. 

. Makes about 16 servings.

Tip: While you can cover and store the cake for up to 2 days at room temperature, it is best made and served the same day. 

Rhubarb Nectar aka Spring Drink

At the recent opening of  photographer/professor Mike Robinson's "Daguerreotypes, Past and Present" at Campbell House Museum in Toronto, volunteer historic cooks served "Spring Drink" as part of a 19th century reception menu of savory and sweet dishes. "Spring Drink has gone by many names, "Rhubarb Nectar" being one of my favourites as it describes so well the essence of spring rhubarb in every sip. The drink is easy to make, stores well in the fridge and is handy to pour over ice and serve with a spritz of sparkling water or soda water. 

Volunteer Vi Cardella and I chopped  2 lb (1 kg) rhubarb to make 7 cups (1.75 L). The rhubarb went into a large non-aluminum saucepan with 7 cups (1.75 L) water. We brought the mixture to the boil, covered, and simmered it until the rhubarb broke down, timing from when the mixture came to the boil, about 4 minutes. We let it cool before straining it through a fine sieve. We could have made the drink clearer had we lined the sieve with dampened cheesecloth. One cup (250 mL) granulated sugar was stirred into the rhubarb liquid, and we heated it until the sugar dissolved and cleared. It went into the fridge and was served cold with chilled sparkling water for a drink that guests deemed totally delicious. A nice surprise for people who don't expect to be drinking rhubarb. 

Note for Rhubarb Lovers: Only the stalk is edible.

A little whipped cream would not be amiss with the cake.

The Thames Valley Melon Company brings wonderfully fresh asparagus to the St. Lawrence Market in Toronto.

When I was growing up in Stratford, Ont, a big vegetable garden with an asparagus bed occupied about a third of our back yard. We ate aspargus every spring, usually  just boiled crisp tender in the tall top of my mother's double boiler and buttered. On the weekends, asparagus sometimes came on toast with a cheese sauce. To prep, we simply  snapped off the butt.

I spent a year in France after university where I met up with white asparagus. Thick as my thumb, milder than the green of Stratford days. 

As a newly wed,  London England was my home, and that's where I learned to eat asparagus cold, with a vinaigrette, or warm, with my fingers. Holding the spear up high, and biting down the stalk till I reached the hard bit at the end, the butt. The asparagus was peeled, the butt trimmed but intact, all the better to hold the spear for nibbling. Comical to look at (if you were from the colonies, like me), but in the end, it made sense. Asparagus became a delicious ritual.

When Marcella Hazan turned the North America's passion for French cooking on its ear with the publication of her first book, The Classic Italian Cook Book (Alfred A. Knopf), I took her advice and blanched my asparagus, grated some pamigiano reggiano (Parmesan cheese) over the top, drizzled on a little melted butter and roasted the spears in a hot oven until "a light, golden crust" formed. Beside the recipe on page 356 is noted, "Excellent, May 1978". 

Since then, spring brings a succession of asparagus - in soup, crepes, stratas, salads with citrus aioli, risotto, pasta, in pinwheel sandwiches, fried in egg and breadcrumbs, omelettes and frittatas, pizza, wrapped in prosciutto, roasted, grilled and dipped into runny eggs. And just plain with butter or olive oil and a squirt of lemon.

No matter the colour, the temperature, fingers or knife and fork, sauced or plain, crusty or not, star of the dish, steamed or grilled, asparagus has more room in my heart than any other vegetable. 

Crucial to asparagus is its freshness. And while going out the back door with a paring knife and coming in with a "feed" of asparagus cupped in my apron is no longer a reality, the best we all can do is support our locally grown asparagus. If asparaus grows nearby, the hope is it's pushing its way through the earth one day, and in the store or farmers' market and your pot the next. If you live near an asparagus farm, like the ones I'm familiar with in Southwestern Ontario, pick your own or purchase  just-picked and count yourselves lucky.

Almost as good as growing or picking your own

Mastering Asparagus

. Choose thick straight stalks with tight tips. Note "thick". Leave those spindly taste-free specimens for out-of-season imports.

. To store, get rid of the ubiquitous elastic holding the bundle, wrap the spears in a clean dry towel, enclose in a plastic bag. Store in the refrigerator. Sitting the asparagus butts in water is often recommended, however, the moisture encourages the asparagus to keep growing and the tips to loosen. In any case, if you love asparagus, long storage is out of the question. Why buy asparagus if you don't intend to relish it fresh?

. The method that provides tender asparagus from bottom to tip is to hold the asparagus by its butt and about a third of the way up the stalk. Bend the stalk until it snaps- at the point where the fibrous butt turns into tender stalk. If you peel the stalks with a vegetable peeler, or an asparagus peeler (and such a utensil does exist) just trim the butt end. Peeled asparagus cooks quite rapidly and has a polished appearance. I have seen the bottoms trimmed to form a point.

. Asparagus often grows in sandy soil. That means rinsing the asparagus thoroughly. There's a saying in professional cooking circles that a restaurant is only as good as the apprentice who washes the asparagus. Grit - be gone!

. Roasted or grilled asparagus is a wonderful way to prepare asparagus for a crowd. Try the grill method this spring when having a barbecue. Simply roll the prepped asparagus in oil, and either roast on a rimmed baking sheet at 400°F (200°C) until crisp tender, about 8 minutes. Or grill, turning to cook through, about the same amount of time.

. To steam asparagus, there is such a thing as an asparagus pot, a tall, slim pot with lid and a perferated insert to load up with the asparagus, lower into the boiling water and remove very efficiently when the spears are tender crisp. The top of a tall double boiler works well too. Bring to boil about 2 inches (5 cm) water in the bottom. For the double boiler, you can bundle the spears together with cotton string.

Looks strange...but it works!

Add the asparagus, tips up, to the water. In both the asparagus pot and the double boiler, the thicker tougher lower part of the stalks boil while the tender tips steam. If blanching asparagus for another dish, e.g. baked with Parmesan, 1 to 2 minutes is plenty, to serve in a salad, about 3, to go straight to the table, start checking at 4  minutes.

The spears are still firm, but tender- ready to drain and enjoy

. To serve hot, untie if necessary, drain, drizzle with melted butter or olive oil and express to the table. To serve cold, plunge the spears into ice water and let them chill just until they're cold. Don't leave them in the cold water, letting their flavour leach away. Drain and pat dry. 

. In a pinch, you can also cook the asparagus lying horizontal in boiling water in a large skillet. Bundling is optional, but makes removing the spears from the water easier.

. Bottom line: If you haven't tried roasted asparagus, make the spring of 09 the season when you were converted to this simple technique!

When a person tires of asparagus pure and simple, there are ways to revive you interest. Take the Asparagus Gruyere Tart, for example, that's an excellent vegetarian brunch/brunch or supper dish, or a sit-down appetizer.

Asparagus Gruyere Tart

2 lb (1 kg) asparagus, usually 2 bunches, butts snapped off

1 pkg (450 g) butter puff pastry, thawed but still cold

2 tbsp (30 mL) Dijon mustard

1-1/2 cups (375 mL) shredded Gruyere cheese

1/2 tsp (2 mL) coarsely ground pepper

1 egg

1 tbsp (15 mL) milk

. Line 2 rimless baking sheets with parchment paper or silicone baking mats, or grease lightly. Set aside.

. In asparagus pot, double boiler or wide saucepan of boiling water, cook asparagus until tender-crisp, about 3 minutes. Immediately chill in cold water to stop cooking and keep the texture; pat dry. 

. Unroll each pastry sheet onto prepared pan. Spread evenly with mustard, leaving 1-inch (2.5 cm) border. Arrange asparagus side by side and alternating ends, on mustard. Sprinkle with cheese and pepper.

. In small bowl, beat egg with milk. Lightly brush over pastry border. Bake in top and bottom thirds of 450°F (230°C) oven, rotating and switching pans halfway through, until pastry is puffed and golden, and cheese is bubbly, about 18 minutes. Serve hot or still warm. Served cold, the Tart looses its charm. 

. Makes 12 appetizer servings.

Substitutions: You can replace the Gruyere cheese with a firm grating cheese such as old Gouda or Cheddar. For the puff pastry, if you make your own or purchase from a bakery, the piece of rolled out pastry need to be 10-inches (25 cm) square.

* Sparrow Grass - when a new unfamiliar word is introduced into a language, it sometimes sounds like another word speakers know well. It's not hard to see how asparagus acquired this charming name in 18th century England when asparagus was still somewhat of a garden novelty.

Vicki Emlaw delivers organic spinach to Harvest Restaurant in Picton, Prince Edward County, Ontario. Not just any spinach, but hand-picked, just minutes before Vicki Emlaw made the delivery.

You know you're in another place when you turn off County Road 13 in Prince Edward County, Ont. and and start down Morrison Point Road. Huge maples form a canopy over the road. There's a peace about the place that makes you feel like you've arrived.

And you have. Just ahead, the sign for Vicki's Veggies. The pretty one-room white frame building, in times past the local post office stands by the road, welcoming visitors to come in to check out what Vicki's got in her freezer and fridge, or dried and preserved on the shelves. Rather more than your regular roadside stand.

Outside, an array of whatever's in season - not much in early spring, but later, some of the 100 varieties of heirloom tomatoes she and her partner Tim Noxon grow from seed, or ground cherries, spinach, sorrel, asparagus, wild leeks or peppers. When Vicki's around, she'll help you make your choice and take your money. And when she's not, because the farm is the source of boxed vegetables that go out weekly to members of Community Supported (Shared) Agriculture (CSA), local restaurants like Harvest in Picton, and the passing public, Vicki and Tim are out in the fields - just drop your money into the cigar tin.

When I visited the farm 10 days ago, the trees were barely budding, and activity in the garden centred around snappy stalks of asparagus and lemony sorrel.From the bush, came wild leeks for the stand. But in the greenhouses, thousands of heirloom tomato seedlings were growing their second set of leaves.By the upcoming Victoria Day weekend, the tomato plants will be ready to graduate to the outdoors. May 16 and 17 and May 23 and 24 between 10 am and 5 pm, the sale of heirloom tomato seedlings takes place. There are over 100 varieties of tomatoes, and be warned, it's first come, first served. An assortment of other vegetables, herbs and tree seedlings complement the tomatoes.

If you miss the sale, and want to plant heirloom tomatoes next year, circle the upcoming Labour Day weekend when Vicki's Veggies has its annual tomato tasting. Then next year, you'll know which tomato you really loved - and be there in time.

But, back briefly to the spinach Vicki was personally carrying to chef Michael Potters at Harvest Restaurant. In all the excitement of local asparagus, red-tipped leaf lettuce and chives, something as basic as spinach can go unnoticed. But not here. A favourite recipe came to mind when I got home and found some pretty decent looking organic spinach. Not Vicki's - but not bad.

Wilted Spinach with Currants, Pine Nuts and Garlic Croutes

This robust combination of greens, pine nuts, garlic and currants is popular all around the Mediterrnean, and gives a new twist to something to nibble on with a glass of wine. Plan on a selection of olives, multicoloured cherry tomatoes and a chunk of feta to serve with. The super-crunchy croutes are one-bite, so choose a slim baguette, or cut baguette slices in half. There's another way to serve the spinach - as a side dish with roasted or grilled fish, chicken or pork. 

1/4 cup (50 mL) currants or 1/3 cup (75 mL) golden raisins

5 anchovy fillets

8 cups (2 L) packed spinach leaves, 10 oz/284 g

20 thin slices baguette

5 large cloves garlic, minced

1/4 tsp (1 mL) each salt and freshly ground pepper

1/3 cup (75 mL) extra virgin olive oil

1/3 cup (75 mL) pine nuts or slivered almonds

Half lemon

. In  small bowl, cover currants with boiling water; soak for 15 minutes. Drain and set side. Meanwhile, soak anchovies in cold water for 10 minutes; drain, pat dry and chop finely. Set aside.

. Wash spinach, trimming stems if necessary; shake off excess water. Place in large heavy-bottomed saucepan. Cover and cook over medium-high heat until wilted, turning 2 or 3 times, about 4 minutes. Drain in a sieve and let cool; press out excess liquid. Chop coarsely; set aside.

. Spread pine nuts on small rimmed baking sheet; toast in 350°F. (180°C) oven until golden, about 3 to 5 minutes. (Watch the pine nuts carefully as they go from pale to too dark in a flash.) Set aside.

. Set garlic and oil mixture over medium heat; fry, stirring until garlic is tender, about 2 minutes. Add anchovies; mash until fairly smooth and hot. Add spinach and currants; toss together and cook, tossing often,  until spinach is well coated and hot. Spoon into warmed small serving platter; squeeze lemon juice over the spinach. Sprinkle with pine nuts and surround with croutes. 

. Makes 6 servings.

Tip: To make up to 2 hours ahead, prep all the ingredients up to the point of adding the cooked spinach to the olive oil. Refrigerate the chopped anchoves and chopped cooked spinach. Cover remaining ingredients and leave at room temperature. 

Vicki's Veggies: www.vickisveggies.com

Harvest Restaurant: www.harvestrestaurant.ca