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Fool Me Once…Just Keep Foolin’ Me I live with an...

Tue, 01 Jan 2013 15:30:00 -0700

Fool Me Once…Just Keep Foolin’ Me

I live with an eternal optimist.

Sometimes it makes me want to punch him in the face, deliver a spin kick & yell “Turn that into a positive Mother F*@!er!”. I realize however, that he’s rubbing off on me because every year at this time, Murph turns to me with a big grin and tells me that this is our year; he can feel it; this is the one; something great is just around the corner. ~~2010~~ ~~2011~~ ~~2012~~ 2013 is the year it all comes together for us…and I believe him…every time…that optimistic a$$hole.

The thing is, he’s right. I’m beginning to think each great year, or at least my perception of its greatness, is due to this seed of idealistic faith that Murph plants in my mind as the past year comes to a close and a new one dawns. Whatever bumps in the road we encounter lose their potentially negative influence as we focus on how lucky we are to have each other, our health and the ability to do what we love. Simply put, gratitude keeps the darkness at bay.

My New Year’s wish is that you have the influence of an eternal optimist.

All the best in 2013. It’s going to be a great year…I can feel it.

Olive Oil & Candied Orange Cake

For the Candied Orange and Syrup

3 cups water

1 cup granulated sugar

3/4 cup orange blossom (or regular) honey

3/4 Tbls ground cardamom

1 medium orange, thinly sliced

Line a baking try with parchment paper and set aside. In a medium pot combine water, sugar, honey and cardamom. Stir liquid over medium heat until sugar dissolves, then add orange slices. Turn heat down to medium-low and allow to simmer for about 40 minutes; occasionally turning orange slices until they are tender and liquid has reduced to about 3 cups worth. Reserve the syrup and transfer orange slices to baking tray.

For the Cake

1/2 cup olive oil plus more for brushing

1 cup all-purpose flour

1/2 cup semolina flour

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1 tsp ground cardamom

1/2 tsp kosher salt

1/4 tsp baking soda

1/2 cup sugar, divided in two

3 large eggs, separated

2/3 cup plain whole-milk yogurt

1 1/2 tsp grated orange zest

1 tsp vanilla extract

Chopped toasted nuts of your choice for garnish

Preheat oven to 350°F.

In a medium bowl whisk both flours, baking powder, cardamom, salt and baking soda together. In a separate, larger bowl, beat 1/4 cup sugar and 1/2 cup olive oil for 1 minute using an electric mixer. Beat in the egg yolks then the flour mixture. Beat in yogurt, orange zest and vanilla. In a separate bowl, using clean dry beaters, beat egg whites to soft peaks. Gradually add remaining 1/4 cup sugar until glossy, firm peaks form. Fold half of the egg whites into batter, folding the second half in until just blended (over mixing will cause loss of volume). Transfer to prepared cake pan; smooth top and bake about 25-29 minutes. Poke a toothpick in the centre of the cake to test; if it comes out clean remove cake from oven.

Poke small holes all over the hot cake and slowly pour 3/4 cup warm orange syrup over the top. When syrup is absorbed pour another 3/4 cup over the top. Allow cake to cool in pan on a wire rack.

Remove pan sides, arrange candied orange slices and top with nuts. Slice and serve cake.

At last nights New Year’s Eve party I chose to top this flavourful pound cake with an orange oil-vanilla whip cream but a plain Greek yogurt with fresh mint would be lovely as well.

Serves 12

Recipe adapted from Bon Appetit Magazine June 2011

Photos by Maggie Murphy

Have Your Cake & Eat It Too It’s been all sugar...

Thu, 01 Nov 2012 17:36:00 -0600

Have Your Cake & Eat It Too

It’s been all sugar flowers and wedding cakes the past few weeks. Hours and hours…and hours, of forming thin paste into delicate petals, covering cakes and decorating them as though they might one day feed a happy couple and their party guests.

It may come as a surprise to my family, because it comes as a surprise to me, but I seem to have a lot of patience. I know…I drive too fast, I talk too fast, I jump from subject to subject like they’re all on fire but I can sit in front of a cake for 12 hours with a pair of tweezers and a .0 piping tip and patiently bring it to life. I love it.

That said, whether or not I will choose to do this as a career is debatable. It seems I’ve fallen for every aspect of the baking and pastry industry and we still have our chocolate class coming up. The tough part will be choosing which of these areas I’ll attempt to master first.

In the meantime, I’ll enjoy the peep show for each of these specialties and try not to lick my fingers. Licking your fingers is frowned upon.

~ Maggie

Photo & Cake by Maggie Murphy

A Quick Pickle Maggie: ‘Can you believe Christmas is in a...

Tue, 09 Oct 2012 20:14:00 -0600

A Quick Pickle

Maggie: ‘Can you believe Christmas is in a month and a half?!!”

Murph: ‘Or…two and a half months…’

This is a prime example of my recent state of mind. My body is in the here and now but my brain is somewhere out there, further ahead. I’m so preoccupied with planning a few weeks in advance that I have to be careful I don’t forget something that needs be done tomorrow.

Thanksgiving weekend gave me some much needed time to catch up with family and school work. I was also able to squeeze in some pickled fennel. Ever since trying the Duck confit salad with pickled fennel and mango at Brasserie, I’ve been a little bit obsessed with the salty sweet combination.

For anyone else out there who feels like they’re on the fast track this fall, making these pickle-y fennel slices is quick and painless. Fennel’s anise flavour is surprisingly perfect when pickled and works well when playing a supporting role in a salad or on a sandwich. A crunchy pickled fennel and mango slaw is great as a side dish but would also be fantastic on fish tacos or a pulled pork sandwich.

Man, I wish it was still August. Wasn’t it just August?

Pickled Fennel

1 large fennel bulb

1 cup water

1/2 cup white wine vinegar

1 1/2 tsp agave nectar (can substitute honey)

1 tsp kosher salt

1/8 tsp mustard seeds

Using a mandoline, shave fennel into very thin strips and place in a 500ml canning jar.

Combine all other ingredients and pour over top of fennel into jar. Seal with a lid and place in the fridge for at least 2 hours. The pickled fennel can remain in the fridge for up to a week.

Pickled Fennel & Mango Slaw

1/2 a head small green cabbage

1 large fennel bulb, pickled and shaved thinly

1 mango, medium ripeness

1 1/2 Tbls basil, finely chopped

Using a mandoline, shave cabbage and mango. Slice up fennel and shaved mango pieces so that they are relatively similar in size. Toss all vegetables, fruit and herbs into a medium sized bowl and mix by hand. Lightly dress with pickled dressing.

For the Pickled Dressing:

1/8 cup of pickling liquid from fennel

1/4 cup canola or vegetable oil

1 1/4 Tbls lemon juice

1 tsp dijon or grainy mustard

1 tsp agave nectar or honey

1/4 tsp salt

1/8 tsp pepper

Whisk all ingredients together.

Recipe and photos by Maggie Murphy

The Absentee Blogger I think about it everyday; my not blogging....

Thu, 06 Sep 2012 18:37:00 -0600

The Absentee Blogger

I think about it everyday; my not blogging. I think about it every time I make dinner, pick fruit and pull dirt caked vegetables from the earth; every time I take a nap, open a book, go for a bike ride. I imagine it’s the same feeling people get when their dogs sit at the door and stare at them, willing them to go for a walk. I see you looking at me. I see you see me.

It’s fair to say I reached a point this summer where I realized I know very little. This has happened more than a few times in the past and it’s a good thing. It’s a reminder that there is a great deal to learn and it’s best if I open up to it.

So that’s where I’ve been; in an open field, filled with hay bales full of information. I’m going to eat all of that hay.

I’ll take you for a walk soon, after I’ve digested some hay.

~ Maggie

Photo by Maggie Murphy

Ending On a Sweet Note It’s time to wrap up these San...

Tue, 14 Aug 2012 00:02:00 -0600

Ending On a Sweet Note

It’s time to wrap up these San Francisco posts and it’s fitting that I end with Hooker’s Sweet Treats, as it was the last shop I visited on the afternoon I flew home.

Located in the Tenderloin district, Hooker’s is a tiny gem of a spot. The Tenderloin is repeatedly described as the worst neighbourhood in San Francisco, due to the ever present addicts, prostitutes, mentally unstable people, etc. It’s intimidating for sure, however, if you pay attention, and act like you live there, it’s really not that bad. (I’m not saying that you should swing down after dark and mingle with the street crowd, but use your head and you’ll find some really great places, as well as, some excellent people in the area.)

I’d sampled Hooker’s salted caramels earlier in my stay and knew I had to check it out for myself. Their handmade dark chocolate covered caramels are exactly the right chewiness, kissed with a mouth watering smoked sea salt. They are worth a trip into the ‘Loin’.

When my sister and I walked through the door, we were met with a warm hello from two fine fellows in the midst of dipping caramels. There was a local girl hanging out drinking freshly brewed espresso and while the guys wrapped up our treats we all got to chatting. I asked if they minded me taking a few photos and snapped away while they suggested a number of their favourite places to eat and hang out in the city. The people of San Francisco are gems themselves and if you’re open to it, will meet some really lovely folks.

Hanging out at Hooker’s made me appreciate and enjoy their salted caramels even more than I did before I’d been to the shop. You know when you fall in love with a new song, then hear or see an interview with the musician and they’re intelligent, humble and whatever other qualities you admire? You love that song even more because it was born out of the mind of a person you can conclude is someone you would like to spend time with. I’ll go back to Hooker’s Sweet Treats again one day.

I left my sister in San Francisco, along with that other cliché thing people leave there.

~ Maggie

Photos by Maggie Murphy

French Pastries in the Valley Bouchon Bakery in Yountville,...

Mon, 13 Aug 2012 21:12:00 -0600

French Pastries in the Valley

Bouchon Bakery in Yountville, California truly lives up to its name, crafting rich bite sized chocolaty treats amongst other perfectly executed french goodies. It’s the kind of place where you catch yourself smiling at a complete stranger as you both bite into an oversized, perfectly textured macaron and then compare notes.

There were pillowy citrus, pistachio brioche buns, little pear tartlets, cookies, artisan breads, pastries and fresh sandwiches. Everything we tried was as delectable as it appeared to be.

If you’re on your way out to Napa Valley to enjoy a bit of wine and the beautiful vineyards, I’d recommend pulling over in Yountville for a treat.

~ Maggie

Photos by Maggie Murphy

A Place to Break Bread Tartine Bakery has become a mecca for...

Fri, 03 Aug 2012 21:05:00 -0600

A Place to Break Bread

Tartine Bakery has become a mecca for bread bakers. A week before I headed to San Francisco, my boss Aviv at Sidewalk Citizen Bakery, an accomplished bread baker in his own right, travelled to Tartine to do a short apprenticeship. I was able to taste their famed rustic sourdough bread that Aviv brought back to the bakery and it really is fantastic. Beautiful deep auburn crusts with a wonderfully chewy crumb, I understand what the hype is all about. That said, and maybe I’m biased, but the sourdough coming out of Sidewalk Citizen Bakery deserves as much hype.

When I hopped a bus to the Mission for an afternoon at Tartine, I was solo. The neighbourhood was humming, under a warm yellow sun. There is no signage to indicate that you have in fact arrived at the fabled Tartine, but I had already done a walk-by earlier in the week and knew my end point. The shop itself is very unassuming from the outside. Perhaps it’s simply the sun, flooding through floor to ceiling windows on a street corner location, but as I step into the bakery, it appears to glow clean, clear light from somewhere inside. There is a palpable feeling of hipness in the air, mixed with what I realized during my visit was an expertly tended sense of community.

I ordered the Jambon Royal & Gruyere pressed sandwich; it was gigantic and though the bread was as delicious as I remembered, it was quite heavy and far too much for me to eat. I grabbed a few morning buns to bring back to my sisters place for a snack later and they were lovely, with a great chew and hint of orange zest in the cinnamon, sugar filling. I also picked up a package of macaroons to bring back to share at home in the bakery and for comparisons sake. I found them to be a bit too dry and sweeter than I prefer.

If I could have a do over, I’d take at least two other people with me and order a few of the pastries and desserts to try. I’d also call ahead to order a loaf of bread, as is typically required in order to get one. I believe a little more research is needed on my part; a full diagnostic.

In all honesty I was a little underwhelmed by my eating experience at Tartine. It parallels that of the ‘friends setting up friends on dates’ scenario. They talk up this guy like he’s the most amazing man on the planet, or she’s the best human being alive and you’ll be perfect for each other! Expectation builds, anticipation fuels imaginative teaser trailers in your mind of how the fairytale will play out. If it gets to that point you’re generally pooched; it’s too much pressure, it implodes and you’re left confused and wondering what the hell happened. It’s likely, that this is in part, why I wasn’t totally blown away by my lunch at Tartine.

That said, a few minutes after I sat down outside with my sandwich, the local guys beside me struck up a conversation. Clint, Alexis and the bass guitar player were hands down, the best part of my Tartine experience. If I’d had a few extra days left in town, I’d have crashed their upcoming chilli/bbq party and called them my new best buds.

Tartine has cultivated a trendy, yet old world atmosphere in which the community comes together to break bread; beautiful bread.

~ Maggie

Photos by Maggie Murphy

Nik’s Way I’d been hearing about Nik’s Crispy...

Mon, 30 Jul 2012 20:43:00 -0600

Nik’s Way

I’d been hearing about Nik’s Crispy Tacos for months. My sister brings all of her San Francisco houseguests to eat these fish tacos. My prairie raised, meat and potato eating, fish snubbing, Dad even loved them. I had assumed it was a hole in the wall type of place but it’s really like a taco stand inside a night club called Rouge. So…it’s basically a hole in the wall type of place.

I took only two photos for two reasons; I was tired from a day of flea market-ing and even though my sister warned me it could happen, I dribbled sauce all the way down the front of my outfit. As soon as I did this she said ‘You hate the fish tacos now, don’t you?!’, as if the fish tacos were a baby who puked all over my favourite new shirt. Which is to say that indeed I would be pissed at a baby who puked all over me, but only for one irrational moment, much shorter than the amount of time that I was pissed at the fish tacos.

The tacos are good, damn good with a lightly crisp batter outside and tender fish inside. The sauce, if you can keep it on your taco, accompanied by a crunchy slaw, is excellent. I’d advise visiting Nik’s after the sun goes down as I imagine the ambience is pretty cool with dozens of chandeliers lighting up the entirely red bar. Order them Nik’s way to get the cilantro guacamole and consider yourselves warned about the dribbling sauce.

~ Maggie

Photos by Maggie Murphy

Pretty Pieces of A City I didn’t take any photos of...

Sat, 28 Jul 2012 09:15:40 -0600

Pretty Pieces of A City

I didn’t take any photos of anything distinctly San Francisco, which according to some is a very ‘San Franciscan’ thing to do. I did however, photograph a one legged bird, which you might say is symbolic of the inclusive nature of the city; All birds are welcome.

~ Maggie

Photos by Maggie Murphy

Foreign Cinema: Act 2 After a lively first course, my sister...

Tue, 24 Jul 2012 14:32:00 -0600

Foreign Cinema: Act 2

After a lively first course, my sister and I tucked into the Persian spiced fried chicken, blue lake green beans, carrots and grilled radicchio. This was not your standard fried chicken; it’s peppery, sweetness buried deep into crispy skin and through its juicy breast meat. The flavor and fragrance of this dish brought back memories of a dry dusty day in Fiji, a busy out door market and bags of bold spices, their scents swirling together on a hot breeze.

From a freshly printed dessert menu, warm off the press, I selected the Summer almond-apricot Opera cake, apricot buttercream and white chocolate mousse. It was a quiet way to end a vivacious meal. Though enjoyable, next time I’d end on a louder note, so to speak.

I’ve come to realize that dining out with me on a regular basis could be…a bit of a roller coaster. Actually, the only two people who might notice this is Murph and my sister because they know me so well. Within the first two minutes of being seated at a table, Murph can tell from my body language and demenour, exactly how the next hour and a half will play out. This stems from the fact that I cannot stand paying for a crappy meal, knowing I could have made something better and cheaper at home. Also, I am easily influenced by my environment, and visually a restaurant or any establishment for that matter, sets a particular tone. Going out for dinner has become more of a theatrical event for me in recent years. I risk sounding like a ‘food snob’ here but I want to be wowed visually as much as I want to be wowed by the meal. Walking into Foreign Cinema I was giddy like a kid on Christmas day. Murph would have laughed and shook his head; It’s almost embarrassing that I’ve become so predictable.

I hope 15 years from now I can call myself an expert in baking and or pastry depending on which road I take, but I’m no food expert and I don’t claim to be. I do know what I like and I like Foreign Cinema; I like the whole package.

~ Maggie

Photos by Maggie Murphy

Foreign Cinema: Act 1 On Mission street, through an old set of...

Mon, 23 Jul 2012 23:47:00 -0600

Foreign Cinema: Act 1

On Mission street, through an old set of theater doors, down a worn red carpet, you’ll find Foreign Cinema. Straight ahead from the hostess station, is a lovely enclosed courtyard. Off to the right is the indoor dining room, with 30 foot high ceilings, a rustic fireplace built for kings and at the back beneath rays of late afternoon light, a wall-to-wall well stocked bar. At dusk, foreign and independent films are screened on the white wash brick wall in the courtyard. Our reservation was early in the evening and unfortunately it meant missing the nights screening of The Royal Tenenbaums.

I feel awkward pulling out my camera in places like this one. Truth be told, I always feel awkward pulling my camera out. I also worry that it cheapens the overall experience, as though I’m not really in the moment, busy snapping away rather than simply soaking it up. Then again, each time I look at one of these photos, I recall the atmosphere, the flavors and the company. That and half of the people in there were snapping photos of each other and their food. We live in a world of constant documentation. Our meal at Garry Danko went undocumented due to the reasons listed previously. I’ll sum that experience up by letting you know that the dress code was elegant, so I wore white dress pants…on the bus…and it took all of 10 mins to get a dirt scrape down my knee ( I also overheard ‘her pants are so white, let’s smear her with something); I was asking for it. Then we ate so much that puking was almost a reality. We had a gift card and used the whole damn thing.

Back at Foreign Cinema, my sister and I enjoyed a glass of vino. We split two premier dishes; the ahi poke, Banyuls-soy ponzu, avocado, sweet potato crisps was beautifully tender yet meaty with a citrus undertone; the Mozzarella di burratta, nectarines, mint, toasted hazelnuts and olive oil was creamy, tart, refreshing and nutty, perhaps four of my favorite food attributes all in one.

These starters were as vibrant and attention grabbing as the group of girls dressed in full neon 80’s gear and tutus across the restaurant. I’m beginning to regret not having photographed the colorful people that played a role in my San Francisco experience.

To be continued…

~ Maggie

Photos by Maggie Murphy

When The Moon Hits Your Eye So I didn’t get to Delfina, a...

Fri, 20 Jul 2012 21:39:00 -0600

When The Moon Hits Your Eye

So I didn’t get to Delfina, a highly recommended Italian and pizzeria joint in the Mission. I walked by it on my way to Tartine and once again after a huge meal; it was packed both times. It’ll have to marinate in my mind until the next trip.

I did however get to another pizza hot spot down in the Marina district called Delarosa. It would seem that there are places all over San Francisco serving up stellar pies. Delarosa is on my sisters’ list of regular eateries, with its long European style shared tables, open concept kitchen and industrial light fixtures. Her buddies did the ordering and we started with the meatballs in spicy marinara and broccolini with peperoncino & garlic. I like-a good-a meatball but I paced myself. The pizzas arrived with a few extra additions of gorgonzola and arugula, I’m not sure which pies we had specifically but it didn’t matter, they were crispy, salty, chewy and cheesy in all the right places. I washed it down with a few Salty Dogs fashioned out of vodka, elderflower, grapefruit and a flaked salt rim. Their cocktail menu was impressive; it would make for an adventurous boozey buffet if one were so inclined.

We continued the night a few doors down at the Tipsy Pig surrounded by a healthy dose of guys whose style choices were obviously influenced by Jake Ryan from Sixteen Candles, complete with Wayfarer shades. Prepsters are alive and well and I couldn’t help but be impressed by their dedication to khakis and pastel dress shirts. Also, to the guy beside us on the match.com date, Dude…it was NOT going well. Ditch 75% of the high-fives and try again. Better luck next time.

~ Maggie

Photos by Maggie Murphy

Livin’ Like a Local in San Francisco I arrived home from...

Mon, 16 Jul 2012 13:16:00 -0600

Livin’ Like a Local in San Francisco

I arrived home from the Bay area a few days ago and my bags are still packed. I’ve never been a very good unpacker. The only items I’ve removed are the bottles of wine I had wrapped in leg warmers and a few food items. I’ll get to it.

My sister is the hostess with the mostess and I couldn’t have asked for a better pal to show me around. She brought me to some of her regular haunts, introduced me to her buddies and took the opportunity to do a few things that were a first for both of us. In just under a month she’ll be finished her masters and moving home; this past year has flown by. To say that I’m proud of her is an understatement. I continue to be impressed by her work ethic and ability to retain information that sounds like another language to me.

One of the first food stops we made when I arrived in San Francisco was on Chestnut Street. I’m a sucker for a pretty package and reclaimed wood, so Blue Barn fits the bill. Using fresh, local, organic ingredients (which is considerably easier to do in SF’s geographical climate than my own), they toss up bright flavourful salads and farm fresh sandwhiches. It’s the kind of place where you expect to receive a photo and information pack about the individual chicken that gave its life to be your lunch.

On July 4th, my sister and I bussed through the Presidio toward the Marina district, picked up the outstanding Tostada Salad and Rooster Sando at Blue Barn then headed toward Chrissy Field. We enjoyed our picnic lunch with a bottle of Moscato, some of her closest pals and the rest of San Francisco. The sun shone, the kites flew, and later that night from the top of an old Victorian apartment building, we watched as fireworks lit up the entire city, illuminating us and thousands of San Franciscans camped out on their respective apartment buildings. Nothin’ beats livin’ like a local.

~ Maggie

Photos by Maggie Murphy

Spit That Pit Spitting is generally considered poor manners,...

Sun, 01 Jul 2012 05:54:00 -0600

Spit That Pit

Spitting is generally considered poor manners, that is, unless it’s directed toward a bride in need of protection from evil spirits. Typically, the action of forcibly ejecting something from one’s mouth is a vulgar practice, but replace excess saliva with a cherry pit, watermelon seed or sunflower seed shell and a good spit is down right encouraged. It is a quintessential summer activity, closely tied to picnicking, playing ball and road trips.

I have no doubt that the pure, unadulterated joy I get as I launch a cherry pit into the wind, stems from a feeling of rebelliousness. I’m spitting AND I’m littering! I like it AND I am going to do it again! Clearly I live on the edge.

It’s almost as exciting as finding a bar that tells you to throw the peanut shells on the floor (“Can you believe they want us to just throw them on the floor?!! These guys are crazy, awesome. We are definitely coming back here”) or what I imagine it’s like for gents to pee outside into nature. Of course, the ‘pit/seed spitting loop hole’ allows for this type of rebellion, removing almost all anarchistic intent from such an action.

The only way you’ll be spitting out these heavenly macaroons is a) you’ve already eaten 20 and you still want to taste them, so you chew, chew, chew, spit (ridiculous? yes. Have I done it? mm hmm) or 2) your name starts with a ‘K’ and you’re my coconut hating brother-in-law.

*These macaroons are lovely because they aren’t the sickly sweet kind and their chewy texture is addictive. They become even chewier a day or two after baking, if left in an unsealed container.

**Also, a conveniently red and white treat for you on this, the day of Canada’s birth.

Dark Chocolate Cherry Macaroons

350g granulated sugar

400g unsweetened, grated coconut

45g white corn syrup

5g vanilla extract

21g pastry flour

2g salt

185g egg white

200g diced cherries

dark chocolate for drizzling

In a large metal bowl blend all ingredients together, except for the cherries. Place bowl over a boilng pot of water and constantly stir coconut mixture until the temperature reaches 120°F or 50°C. Fold in the diced cherries and place in the fridge to cool for at least an hour. This will make it easier to shape the macaroons.

When the macaroon mixture has cooled and firmed up, preheat the oven to 350°F. Shape the cherry macaroons into round balls, slightly over a tablespoon worth, and place on a parchment lined baking sheet. Bake for 30-35 minutes or until the tops and bases are a golden brown. Be sure to rotate trays from top to bottom to ensure that they do not burn on the bottom.

Transfer macaroons to a rack and allow to fully cool.

Melt dark chocolate and drizzle over the top of each chewy cherry coconut ball. I used a paper parchment cone and they are quite easy to make.

Makes 40-45

Recipe adapted from Wayne Gisslen - Professional Baking

Photos by Maggie Murphy

The Meat of Any Relationship This Sunday I’ll give my Dad...

Fri, 15 Jun 2012 21:19:00 -0600

The Meat of Any Relationship

This Sunday I’ll give my Dad a call to wish him a Happy Father’s Day. He’ll ask if Murph and I are having a nice day together, as Sunday also marks 7 years of marriage for us. When Dad gave me away in that wedding dress, I don’t think he anticipated occasionally having to share his Father’s Day. Sorry for the poor planning Pop, you’re still the first guy I ever loved with all my heart.

My Dad knows that I remain to this day, crazy about Murph. After almost a decade together, he also knows more importantly, that we’re great friends. See the thing about marriage or any good, long term partnership, is the friendship; friendship is the meat of it. Then there are the fixin’s; the late night kitchen dances, the same old jokes that I love and pretend to roll my eyes at, the laughing and the not-so-much laughing. All of those little things that seep into the in-between spots, the quiet times, the big moments, that over time flavour a relationship. Those fixin’s are the chimichurri to your flank steak love; the chipotle, lime, basil butter to your corn cob romance.

I don’t believe in giving marital advice because people come together for all kinds of reasons; each couple sets their own rules. That said, there isn’t enough chimichurri or fancy butter in the world to fix bad meat. So choose a nice piece of meat, one that can stand alone and the fixin’s will elevate it to more than you ever hoped it would be. Also, and this is not a metaphor, always use real butter.

Grilled Flank Steak with Chimichurri

1 medium flank steak

sea salt

pepper, freshly ground

1 cup fresh Italian parsley

1/2 cup olive oil

4 Tbls red wine vinegar

juice of one lime

1/4 cup fresh cilantro

1/4 cup fresh mint

2 large cloves garlic

3/4 tsp crushed red chili flakes

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp cumin

Bring the flank steak out to room temperature and turn the bbq/grill up to a high heat. Let the steak and grill warm up while you prepare the chimichurri.

Toss all herbs and spices into a food processor, excluding the olive oil. Pulse the ingredients as you pour the olive oil into the processor. Blend as much or as little as you like (you may prefer to leave large pieces of herbs). Set chimichurri aside to marinate and develop more flavour.

Season both sides of the flank steak with sea salt and freshly ground pepper. The steak I used was about 1-1 1/2 inches thick, we grilled it over high heat for about 5-6 minutes per side and were happy with a medium-rare result. This will vary with your meat selection. Pull it off the grill and allow it to rest for 5-7 minutes before slicing against the grain on a diagonal. Serve topped with your homemade chimichurri.

Makes about 1 1/2 cups and keeps well in the fridge for a few weeks in a sealed jar.

* Great on tacos, eggs (any kind of protein really), and mixed in salads.

Sweet Corn with Chipotle Lime Basil Butter

Multiple cobs of sweet corn, husked

1 stick salted butter, room temperature

juice of 1 small lime

3 chipotle peppers in adobo sauce, finely diced

4 large basil leaves, finely chopped

Bring a large stock pot of water to boil. Toss in corn for 10 minutes. In the meantime, in a small bowl combine butter, lime juice, chipotle peppers and basil.

Slather that butter over warm corn and dig in.

This butter will keep in the fridge for up to a few weeks.

Recipes and photos by Maggie Murphy

Target Practice I’ve been setting goals, reaching targets...

Mon, 04 Jun 2012 21:51:00 -0600

Target Practice

I’ve been setting goals, reaching targets and flat out missing them from an early age; no doubt, so have you. For example, at 5 I realized I couldn’t sit at the colouring table and be taken seriously by my classmates with a thumb stuck in my mouth. I set myself a goal to quit and (as far as you know) I no longer suck my thumb. At 12, I decided I was going to make a bunch of cash babysitting and save for something really important which for the next few years, I did. Then we moved to a small town, and at 15 I blew my small fortune on potato wedges and boot legged beer for bush parties. At 17, I decided to save up and move to England after high school; I did and it was more educational than the 4 years I spent in university, though that too, was a significant goal to achieve. I took a yoga teacher training class thinking that I’d like to be a yoga instructor and realized that in fact I simply wanted to deepen my personal practice. I prefer to have that be a place where I can work on myself in the back row vs. leading at the front.

My point, is that we set goals, we visualize targets and we let our arrows fly. There are times we hit the bullseye, gaining the experience and results we initially expected and continue to head in a set direction. Other times we miss by a long shot and our arrows land somewhere unexpected, but no less significant, and reroute our goals entirely.

My furiously curiously travelling pal Jhyl, writes eloquently on a related subject and it’s worth a read.

I’ve begun to pay attention to where the arrows land when I miss the bullseye, and ironically it’s those perceived misses that have led me to the things I love most. The beauty of taking a shot is that it always lands somewhere new and you can pick up the arrow at any time to take another shot.

A word about these bullseye cookies. Up until I had them rolled out, cut and on the baking sheet, I thought they were going to flop. The dough was so crumbly that calling it dough couldn’t have been farther from the truth. It made me want to curl up and suck my thumb. The next day I gently remixed the dough, adjusting the butter by adding a bit more to help it hold together. The cookies baked perfectly and received rave reviews, but who knows what the next new recipe holds. It’s all just target practice.

Apricot Passionfruit Jam

7-8 apricots (1 lb)

2 passion fruits

1/2 cup sugar

1 1/2 Tbls white wine

1/2 a vanilla bean pod, split

Remove pits from apricots and slice into 1/4 inch pieces. Strain passion fruit well, to extract all the juice leaving seeds behind. In heavy saucepan, over medium heat, combine apricots, passion fruit juice, sugar, wine and vanilla bean. Bring to a simmer, while stirring frequently. Cook until the juice released covers the fruit, about 5 minutes.

Pour cooked fruit into a strainer set over a bowl and drain off juice. Return juice to the pot and bring to a boil over high heat. Continue to boil, stirring occasionally until the juice has reduced by half, into a syrup, 7-8 minutes. Return apricots and vanilla bean to the pot with syrup and bring to a simmer. Stir frequently, and continue to simmer for 10-15 minutes. Remove from heat and ladle into a sterilized jar. Set aside to cool.

*If you are making this jam to store for a length of time, be sure to follow proper canning procedures.

Makes 1 1/2 cups

Bullseye Shortbread Cookies

1 1/2 cups (2 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature

1 cup icing sugar, sifted

large pinch of salt

2 tsp vanilla

2 2/3 cups all-purpose flour

extra icing sugar for sprinkling

In a mixing bowl, using the paddle attachment, beat the butter, sifted icing sugar, salt and vanilla together until well combined, about 1 minute. Stop mixer and add flour, resume mixing at a low speed until just combined. Remove bowl and give the dough a final mix with a spatula. The dough will appear to be quite crumbly.

Transfer the dough onto a large piece of plastic wrap, fold plastic over top and press the dough out to about a 1/2 inch thick rectangle. Chill in the refrigerator over night.

When you are ready to bake the cookies, move the racks to the top and bottom thirds of the oven and preheat to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Remove dough from the fridge and cut off 1/3. Return remaining dough to the fridge to wait.

On a flour surface, gently kneed the dough until it has softened a bit and is easier to work with. Again, this dough is very crumbly but it’s worth the aggravation as that’s also why it produces such a beautifully fragile shortbread cookie. Don’t be afraid to press it firmly into itself as you shape it into a rectangular shape. Flour it again and roll it out gently with a rolling pin. If the dough cracks and breaks, simply push it back into itself and continue to roll until about 3/16 inch thick. You’ll see that it does come together and roll out nicely.

Use 2 - 2 1/2” round cookie cutter and place cookies a few inches apart on a parchment lined sheet. Repeat process with the remaining dough and dough scraps. Cut a 1/2 inch hole from the centre of half the unbaked cookies (I used a large piping tip).

Bake the cookies until they are firm and have a slightly golden colour. Depending on your oven 12-18 minutes. Rotate the sheets at the 8 or 9 minute mark for a more even bake. You may also want to double pan the bottom tray or simply rotate the top and bottom trays half way through baking.

Allow cookies to cool. Turn the cookies without holes over and spoon on preserves. Sift icing sugar over the cookie tops and place onto the jammed up bases.

Keep in the refrigerator for up to 1 week.

They won’t last that long.

Makes about 24 sandwich cookies

Cookie recipe adapted from Nick Malgieri’s Bake

Photos and Apricot Passion Fruit Jam recipe by Maggie Murphy

Citrus Morning Each work day this past 2 weeks I’ve been...

Sun, 20 May 2012 08:03:00 -0600

Citrus Morning

Each work day this past 2 weeks I’ve been up before dawn. I hop on my bike, peddle through the soft grey morning light and float down the newly lilac scented streets toward the train. The train takes me south over the river, where the first blush of day has quietly begun to arrive downstream; Jose Gonzalez plays in my head. There is no dazzling light, only a peachy pink, citrus glow along the horizon, as if Bob Ross had painted it there, between the happy little green trees that run along the waters edge. In those few moments, I’m not tired and I never have been.

Then I’m between skyscrapers, a guy with a bag of cans is asking me how much my bike cost, he’s predicting the weather (he was right, by the way, it didn’t snow last week like the weather channel said it would) and I realize I forgot to brush my teeth. The spell is broken and my day has officially begun.

Before I forget to mention it, pound cake is okay to eat for breakfast. It’s totally different from regular cake because…it’s in loaf form…yep, let’s go with that. I mean you eat it with a cup of tea and you can drink tea in the morning so…I’m not selling this very well.

How about this? If you’re looking for a little spark in your morning and you absolutely refuse to wake up with me at 4:30 to watch the sun rise, eat a piece of this pistachio citrus pound cake for breakfast. It’s tart lime drizzle and fresh flavours are an aurora for the taste buds.

Pistachio Citrus Pound Cake

Nonstick vegetable oil spray or butter for greasing pan

2 cups all- purpose flour

1 1/2 tsp. kosher salt

1 tsp baking powder

1 cup unsalted butter, room temperature

2 cups sugar

5 large eggs

2 Tbsp fresh Meyer lemon juice

2 Tbsp fresh grapefruit juice

2 tsp finely grated grapefruit zest

1 tsp finely grated lime zest

1 cup shelled, unsalted pistachios, coarsely chopped

Position a rack in middle of oven; preheat to 325° Fahrenheit. Coat a 9x5x3” loaf pan with nonstick spray or softened butter. Dust pan with flour and tap out the excess.

In a medium bowl, whisk 2 cups flour, salt, and baking powder. Using the paddle attachment on your mixer, beat butter on medium speed until it’s light and fluffy, 2–3 minutes. You may also use and electric handheld mixer for this. Add sugar and beat until well incorporated, about 2 minutes. Add eggs one at a time to the butter/sugar mixture, beating well between each addition. Add juices and zests; beat until well combined (mixture will look curdled), about 3 minutes. Now add the dry ingredients and reduce speed to low beating just until blended. You may also choose to fold the dry ingredient in by hand. Do not over mix! Fold in 3/4 cup of the chopped pistachios. Pour batter into prepared pan and out the smooth top. Sprinkle the remaining 1/4 cup pistachios over the batter.

Bake cake, and rotate halfway through. When your test stick comes out clean from the centre of the cake it’s done, about 1 1/2 hours. Transfer to a wire rack and let cool completely in pan. Run a sharp knife around sides and release cake from pan.

Keeps in an air tight container in the fridge for 2-4 days.

Lime Drizzle (fo shizzle)

1 cup icing sugar

Juice of 1 lime

Zest of half a lime

In a small bowl mix together the icing sugar and lime juice (you may need more icing sugar or more juice - look for a consistency that will run off your spoon but won’t spread so much that it all becomes one pile of icing). Mix in lime zest.

After the pound cake has cooled and is on the serving dish, drizzle lime icing across the top making a pretty pattern. Allow it to run off the sides for good coverage.

Slice and serve.

Recipe adapted from Bon Appetit

Photos by Maggie Murphy

Sun Kissed & Sweet Lipped I’m enjoying a mug of hot...

Mon, 07 May 2012 21:46:00 -0600

Sun Kissed & Sweet Lipped

I’m enjoying a mug of hot cocoa stuffed with rhubarb marshmallows. Seems like a wintery thing to do but somehow it’s pairing perfectly with my newly acquired sunburn; I’m just missing a blazing backyard fire.

I was out and about on my bike today, delivering marshmallows and running errands which lead to my first official sunburn of the year. I’m a shade somewhere between rhubarb red and rhubarb marshmallow pink. It’s weird and splotchy and I start my first day of work tomorrow at a great local bake shop. Excellent. I’m bringing them some marshmallows in hopes of distracting them from my bizarre burn.

I wouldn’t say that I’m a marshmallow lover by any means but I’ve been curious about them from a purely creative perspective. Turns out they’re fun to make and I quite like the rhubarb twist. Rhubarb is one of the first items in season each spring and as soon as I see it at the market I’m like a moth to a flame. If you recall, last spring I paid way too much for that first batch of rhubarb, this time around I perused each stall at the farmers market for the best deal.

I’ve never heard of a rhubarb marshmallow but it seems a natural couple, no? Rhubarb is always lookin’ for a little sugar.

Rhubarb Marshmallows

3 med-large stocks rhubarb (cooked down to a compound)

3 Tbls +1 tsp unflavoured powdered gelatin

1/4 cup rhubarb juice (from the compound)

1 1/2 Tbls rhubarb, cooked (from the compound)

1/4 cup water

2 cups granulated sugar

1/2 cup white corn syrup

1/2 cup hot water

2 egg whites

1/2 tsp salt

3/4 tsp vanilla

*cornstarch for lining trays

Dice up rhubarb and toss into a heavy saucepan with 3/4 cup of water over medium high heat. Cook down until most of the liquid has evaporated, leaving you with a watery jam like consistency. Pour the rhubarb and juice into a strainer over a small bowl and press all the liquid out. Measure out the required juice and fruit. (You can use any other fruit compound you like)

In the bowl of your electric mixer, add gelatin, rhubarb juice and 1/4 cup water. Make sure all the gelatin dissolves before you add the heated sugar and that your whisk attachment is in place before you transfer the hot sugar.

* You’ll need a candy thermometer for this next part.

In a heavy saucepan, over medium-low heat, combine the granulated sugar, corn syrup and hot water. Allow the mixture to completely melt then crank the heat up to medium-high, bringing it to a boil. Wipe down the sides of the saucepan with a damp pasty brush to avoid crystallization of the sugar and clip on your thermometer. Heat the sugar to 250° F (121° C).

While the sugar is heating up, beat your egg whites and salt in a stainless steel bowl until they have a stiff peak. I did this by hand (b/c my mixing bowl was already in use) with a whisk but you can also use a hand mixer if you have that as well. Make sure there is no fat present in the bowl or on the whisk, otherwise your whites won’t firm up (also, don’t use a plastic bowl, it has the same reaction as if fat is present). Set the whites aside.

When the hot sugar is ready, turn the mixer on to a medium-low speed and slowly pour the sugar mixture down the inside of the mixing bowl. Once all the sugar has been added, toss in the cooked rhubarb and gradually turn mixer up to its highest speed. When the mixture has started to stiffen and has doubled in volume, add the egg whites, vanilla and 2 drops of pink food safe dye. Continue to mix until light and fluffy.

After this you’ll want to move quickly b/c the marshmallow starts to set or thicken up within about 10 minutes. You want to be able to spread or pipe it while it’s still soft. So prepare your baking trays ahead of time with aluminum foil and a layer of sifted cornstarch. The marshmallow will stick to any spots that aren’t covered in cornstarch.

If you’d like you can simply spread the marshmallow out over the whole sheet (spray an offset spatula with nonstick spray to spread mixture cleanly). Let it dry over night and then use a pizza cutter or knife to cut the marshmallow into pieces (you’ll need to spray your cutting tool with non-stick spray as well)

Or, you can pipe them as I did by using a piping bag with a medium or large star tip. Pipe onto the cornstarch sprinkled trays in whatever shape you’d like and let them dry over night. They can be eaten about 4 hours after you’ve piped them but if they sit over night then the tops dry with a nice skin so the marshmallows are easy to pull of the trays.

Store in an airtight container for up to 2 weeks.

Makes 40 (too many? perhaps)

Recipe adapted from Sugar Baby

Photos by Maggie Murphy

Classic Pesto A beautiful video from Kinfolk.

Mon, 30 Apr 2012 09:41:00 -0600

Classic Pesto

A beautiful video from Kinfolk.

Flying in the Wind Vol-au-vent, a French style puff pastry case,...

Fri, 27 Apr 2012 16:45:00 -0600

Flying in the Wind

Vol-au-vent, a French style puff pastry case, translated to english means ‘flying with/in the wind’. It’s meant to describe the light airy texture of the pastry once it’s been baked; the air that gets trapped between layers and layers of buttery pastry. The French have a way of fluffing up even the simplest of things. I like that about them. If it were up to anyone else it might have been called Pastry #8 or something else rather mundane.

Puff pastry on its own isn’t very flavorful, and the purpose of vol-au-vent is really to house something delectable. Like, perhaps, a creamy mascarpone mushroom filling with spicy sausage slices drizzled in green onion & pea shoot oil.

For some reason vol-au-vent makes me think of Twitter. I know it’s a bit of a stretch but bear with me.

Twitter is like a vast, fast flowing river, or, for the sake of this post, an intense wind of information. You step on-line and a gust of tweets pluck you up and whisk you away to enlightenment. I have myself, been caught in this wind of illumination, only blowing back to earth when I’m hungry and dehydrated or when the light turns green (I’m joking, don’t tweet and drive). There are layers and layers of information and there is also a lot of ‘air’. Then there is the stuff I’m really interested in, the delectable filling if you will.

It’s kind of like your own informational vol-au-vent, which is truly awesome.

I’m still trying to determine what kind of tweeter…twitterer…tweetster (?) I want to be. For now I’m enjoying that I can connect with people in the Canadian food community like Julie and Renee. Thanks for the recent support ladies!

Mushroom Vol-au-vent with Green Onion & Sweet Pea Shoot Oil

For the Green Onion and Sweet Pea Shoot Oil:

3 green onions

1 1/2 cup sweet pea shoots

3/4 cup olive oil

Chop green onions and pea shoots coarsely. Toss in a blender and add oil; puree until smooth. Pour through a very fine strainer (or coffee filter) and let drain at room temp for a few hours or overnight in the fridge. Do not push solids through.

For the Vol-au-vent and Creamy Mushroom Filling:

6-8 white button mushrooms, sliced

6-8 crimini mushrooms, sliced

1 1/2 Tbls butter

3 cloves garlic

1 Tbls thyme

1 large shallot

pinch kosher salt

1/4 cup white wine

1/3 cup milk

1/2 cup mascarpone

salt & pepper to taste

2 spicy sausages

1 package puff pastry

1 egg, beaten

Pre heat oven to 425 degrees Farenheit. Typically the box instructions don’t have you set the temp this high and find the pastry doesn’t puff up as much as I want it to. You may have to play around with your oven temperature to determine what works best for you.

Prepare a baking sheet with parchment paper. Beat an egg and set aside with a pastry brush.

Roll out all the puff pastry to anywhere from 1/8 or 14” thick. You’ll need 2 cookie cutters ( I used a 2” and a 1” round). Cut out as many 2” rounds as you can. Divide the rounds in two placing half of them on the baking sheet. With the other half, take your 1” cutter and cut a smaller round from the 2” rounds. You’ll be left with a 2” ring of pastry and a 1” round. It’s the ring you want.

Lightly egg wash each 2” round on the tray and place a corresponding 2” ring over top so the edges line up. Then very lightly, egg wash the top ring. As one of my chefs would say, ‘You’re not making quiche’. Also, you don’t want to have any egg bind up the puff pastry and hinder its rising. Bake 15 to 20 minutes depending on your oven heat. You want the vol-au-vent to be a golden brown and feel light as air when you pick them up. Also, if they start to curl over like a slinky, just press them back down a bit as they are baking to help them rise straight up.

In a small pan fry up two sausages until cooked through. Remove from heat and let cool. Slice up into thin round pieces and place a few into the cup of each vol-au-vent.

In a medium pan over medium-high heat, melt butter and toss in sliced mushrooms, saute 5-7 minutes. Once the mushrooms have released their moisture add finely diced shallot, garlic, thyme and salt. Saute another few minutes until the onions become translucent and the mushrooms have begun to get a bit of colour. Pour in wine and scrape the bottom of pan to release all the good bits.

Finally, add mascarpone, milk, salt and pepper and combine well. Remove from heat and spoon a generous portion onto of the sausage and vol-au-vent. Drizzle with a bit of onion and pea shoot oil, garnish with pea shoots.

Perfect for appetizers or for dinner with a side salad.

Makes 10-12

Photos and recipes by Maggie Murphy