Edible Tulip

Spices

Gifts from overseas are always exquisite. They are slivers of insight into foreign flavours. They are small packages of nostalgia. My mum recently brought back nuts and colourful bags and scarves and ponchos and tiny uniquely decorated good-luck pin cushion hearts entangled in a cloistered mess from Mexico. Her friend, Judy, who leads treks across Nepal and India (as has my mother), recently brought my mum back this lovely spice ensemble.

I was in my parent's kitchen and under the large windows that look out to the big red barn where the horses graze outside I saw a sparkling silver cookie tin. I took off the lid and underneath was another lid with a perfect little spoon. I picked up the spoon and took off the second lid to gaze at this: tiny little bowls of fresh spices - mace, cardamom pods, cumin seeds, ground curry spices for vegetarian dishes and meat dishes and whole nutmeg pods. Spices brought back from their place of origin always smell and taste so much better than their counterpart bought here (even from the Middle Eastern spice stores in Kensington Market - although the spice store on Augusta with large burlap sacks of licorice root and 12 blend Ethiopian curries). Other countries take their spices seriously - they grind the blends often themselves - while here in Canada we suffer from a taste inferiority complex where the solution to bland is to add salt.

One of the benefits of being the daughter to a traveling mother is the dried good bounty she returns with!

Picnic Lunches a la Summer

Going through some old photos from last summer's cooking fiesta I found a snapshot of some of the dishes before they headed out onto the buffet table. I loved cooking lunch at the retreat centre full of hungry artists because it was always a seasonal picnic bonanza.

I always made a soup: garden vegetable, coconut lentil, borscht, corn chowder, potato leek, cream of asparagus, gazpacho, vichysoisse, spicy red tibetan lentils, etc. I also tried to do at least two sandwiches; I made wraps with creamed cheese and thin slices of vegetables or sundried tomatoes and I made open faced baked egg salad on crumpets, and old cheddar cheese on nut bread with russian mustards. I also liked doing open faced layers of goat cheese and avocado with tomato and cucumber and lots of ground pepper. The bread makes the sandwich - good walnut bread is a chewy side kick to creamy rich cheese with something tart and fresh like arugula or cucumber.

The salads would always vary. I liked offering spicy carrot and cabbage coleslaw with fresh garlic, ginger, rice vinegar, fresh lemon, sesame oil, tamari and a bit of salt with a more hearty grain or carb salad like couscous and chickpeas or boiled potato with artichoke hearts, hard boiled eggs and a grainy mustard vinaigrette. Lentils are great with an orange-lemon-curry dressing served warm with crumbled feta, sliced cherry tomatoes and lots of fresh herbs like mint, coriander and parsley.

I'd always put out baskets of fresh baguette, bowls of olives and hard boiled eggs. There would be platters of cut melon and fresh fruit.

I'm tired of stews and curries and pasta. I'm pulling on my visual references of seasons past and getting inspired to cook fresh again. Happy Easter! I bought a bone-in leg of lamb today for tomorrow's dinner with my parents and brother - I was a wreck at the butchers both last night and today - after being a strict vegetarian for 15 years I was stuck at what to buy for a family dinner. I buy myself chicken breast and make curries. Or I buy pork sausages and make pasta sauce. Or a get ground lamb and make burgers. But anything remotely beyond that I'm unsure of - pork ribs, rib eye steak, crown of lamb? I couldn't imagine what my parents would think yummy and elegant. The leg of lamb I thought would be something different to try. I hope it turns out! Yikes!

Canteloup & Lime

I love fruit first thing in the morning. It's been my ritual for 10 years. It's always the first thing I put in my mouth. I'm unable of putting anything dry or flaky or toast-like or cereal-ish into my mouth until I've eaten fruit and drunk some tea or coffee.

My fruit habits are pretty seasonal. All winter I consume citrus fruits because they are at their prime juiciness and because I got spoiled growing up with grandparents who were snow-birds and sent us boxes of Indian River pink grapefruits for Christmas each year. About this time of year when the skin on oranges and grapefruits starts to thicken and pull away from the flesh and the interior becomes mealy and light coloured I tend to veer towards melons. I'm in the nascent of melon eating right now and it's a beautiful thing. This morning I split open a large firm sweet smelling canteloup, cut out its seeds, and then pared it into wedges that then became square bite size pieces that I put into a tupperware and seasoned with fresh lime juice. Kiwis sometimes make the cut too. Then I'll start into honeydews before they get too ripe and saturated in their own juice. Then suddenly it's berry season - strawberries and blueberries and slices of just ripened still tart mango. And then before you know it I'm eating grapefruit again as the sky darkens and winter arrives. But hey, I'm getting ahead of myself. Melon. Spring. We're nearly there.

Spring Vegetables

I was wandering around Bloor West Village today after work running errands and I realized how much I missed the array of food shops in that part of Toronto: they have great delis, incredible pastry and bakery shops, a few gourmet fine food venues, and a great selection of carload green grocers with excellent produce and flowers at can't be beat prices! It was so much fun collecting springish stuff - basil, green beans, asparagus, snow peas, snap peas, baby cukes and mushrooms. I'm cooking a hot green curry for dinner with asparagus, broccoli, snow peas, chicken and shrimp but I also love to death a side dish of steamed sugar snap peas cooked al dente and sprinkled with coarse salt and coarse ground pepper.

Vernal Equinox

Today, apart from being also Palm Sunday, is the vernal equinox - one of two times a year (the other is the fall equinox in September) when day and night are measured as being exactly equal in length and the sun is said to rise in the true east travel across the sky for exactly 12 hours and then set in the true west. Everywhere on earth experiences a 12 hour day and a 12 hour night on the vernal equinox.

There are an abundance of rituals and ceremonies celebrating the two equinox dates but primarily the elders of the Olde Way used this occasion to plant their seeds for spring. The vernal equinox is the marker for when Easter occurs as stated: the Council of Nice decreed in 325 A.D. that "Easter was to fall upon the first Sunday after the first full moon on or after the Vernal Equinox."

And you know that expression "spring cleaning" well what better excuse than the coming of spring to encourage a little dusting. I know I've been quite remiss about writing about food for a long time. The winter blahs and a new job got the absolute best of my creativity. I found myself mired in the routine of sesame garlic stir fries with tofu and hot Indian curries with spicy pickles night after night. There is only so much a girl can write about either. I am happy to confess however that I do feel a gastronomic revolution building inside of me. I'm just awaiting the warm winds of homecoming...

Condylura Cristata (or Propeller Faced Rodent)

Early this Sunday morning I was determined to let spring exist in my apartment (especially since it's the even of the Vernal Equinox) even if it isn't welcome in the rest of Toronto (Paris has blooming tulips in its parks and Vancouver has ripening cherry blossoms - come on Toronto!) so I began unveiling anything that hinted of spring: bright red tulips with a deep purple blush at the stem sit on my wooden kitchen table, a lilac furry bunny with a big pouch full of chocolates, jigsaw puzzles, a knit stuffed bunny, a bouncy easter ball, and easter stickers waiting for my niece, a beautiful calendar of butterflies on two nails beside my work desk, any green living thing was watered and/or re-potted, spring coats were aired out in the wind that blesses my fire escape and old pictures of last spring were dug up as I hunted for visual evidence that I did go barefoot less than a year ago.

Is it disgusting to put a picture of a dead rodent (especially one with a tentacled nose) on a food and recipe blog? I hope, my friends, that you marvel in nature's creatures as much as I do and that this depiction does not in any way affect your appetite.

The star nosed mole, a rare creature, paid me a visit last spring at my cabin on the river. One of my feline friends left it for me on my lawn. I was just happy I saw it before I started up the electric lawn mower. It's fairly large in size; it resembled some of the enormous rats I used to see in New York City, rats that were so big one actually carted away a hefty yam of mine that had been sitting on the kitchen counter. It has prehistoric scaly feet and hands with long straight-as-a-pin claws so that its appendages look like paddles. The mole digs extensive tunnels hence the size of its hands/claws. The strange creatures also is one-third tail (of which I've saved you from witnessing). But the most remarkable feature of this mole is of course it's snout - perched atop the extended snout is a fleshy pink disc which sprouts 22 or so finger-like feelers. These are useful for gathering edibles (worms, crustaceans) in moving water.

Click here to listen to an interview on CBC Radio's As It Happens with a scientist who discusses the star nose mole as the fastest eating animal in the world.

Thanks Chester for bringing one home to me for my own personal inspection!

Secret Ingredients

Sometimes, especially in March, we tire of the dinners we seem to eat over and over again: stir fries, lentil dahl, pastas with whatever is in the fridge, chicken curries over egg noodles, homemade pizzas, hearty stews, grilled vegetables, rice salads, frittatas. I crave the flavour of spring - something new, something varied and something bursting with freshness. I have found however that during this blah period in winter I'm experimenting more and more with my stalwart dishes by adding a zing of exotica into the mix.

I have a few tricks that I'll unveil with time but for now I'll leave you with a twist to your stir fry. I tend to start my wok with oil, garlic and fresh ginger. Then I add vegetables usually a blend of a few carrots, chopped cauliflower, cut green beans, slivers of broccoli, cubes of tofu, some bean sprouts and thinly sliced green cabbage. Sometimes I add twists of lemon, or grate lemon zest into the mix, add a splash of tamari and some mustard seeds and then toss with chopped cilantro. But lately I've been craving something subtlely sweet and I've found my fix in maple syrup. I make a little cup of maple syrup, fresh lemon juice, a Tbsp of curry powder, some safflower oil, a tsp of dijon mustard, some cumin seeds and then I coat the just cooked vegetables in the sauce before serving.

Beet Root Coffee

I have a strange relationship with coffee. For many years, I drank very strong coffee with a bit of cream every morning. Just one enormous mug of it. Then I bought an espresso maker and made espresso each morning (while bringing a pot of whole milk just to to the brink of a boil) and enjoyed lattes in a white bowl with a french yellow stripe. Then suddenly one summer day I couldn't stand the smell of coffee. Let alone the taste of it. And I turned into a (GASP) tea-drinker. For some reason, when I was a coffee drinker, tea drinkers smelled of a feebled impotence to me. I was biased. Coffee tasted rich and empowering and forceful. Tea was weak and slightly elegant. And it reminded me of my grandmother's afternoon ritual. And in the afternoon, I always wanted something bubbly and cold if not alcoholic. Anyway, I changed my tune one fine day and embraced tea. Specifically a tea called Typhoo tea imported from England. And ooh it warmed my heart. Coffee lost it's reverent spot with me and I was a die hard tea drinker.

Now I'm a coffee drinker again. Maybe it's seasonal. Who knows. I'm in a new work environment (stress) and it's winter out (need something rich and earthy tasting) and I'm fine with coffee again. But in an effort to quit smoking (again) I thought I'd evict anything caffeinated from my apartment and try something new. And in came Krakus Instant Coffee Substitute. This is a delicious instant coffee granular substance made of roasted barley, rye, chicory, and beet roots. I find it quite sublime actually. I steam milk and add it to the instant "coffee" mix and it's subtely sweet with a slight coffee chicory flavour. Drinking this before work doesn't make me feel so guilty when I actually indulge in the real stuff. Plus I sleep better. The Poles! I knew they were great astronomers but THIS? Not as bad as it might sound.