Lately and The Delicious Project: Mushroom Risotto

As most food-lovers will agree, at meal times, you must have your camera ready. When I dine out, I frequently have my camera sitting in my lap, with the appropriate settings turned on to capture the perfect moment. It's especially awkward however, when the table is small, there's only a smidgen of space between me and the next diner and I have the urgent need to whip out my DSLR. I know they stare at me in bewilderment, I know they're judging, but I do it anyway. It's critical to document these meals ykno? 

So here are the places and things I've been eating. There was a real yum and affordable classic French food at L'Avenue, I went with a food-lover friend, she got the buttermilk fried chicken and I ordered the croque monsieur, all I can say is I can't wait to go back.

 

There's also been a family potluck in which my cousins who also happen to love food (it runs in the family), prepared not one, but two desserts. There were apple blossoms plus apple and cheddar pies. I'm not even a fan of warm fruit but I was smitten over the blossoms which were deliciously comforting (besides, its fun to say apple blossoms over and over again)

 

 

I had an friend visit from California last week and was eager to try Toronto cuisine. I don’t even know what that is. Thankfully, she did some research and found The Black Hoof, I'm still unsure if it's considered Canadian, but this place is definitely worth talking about. I peeked at the menu online and my heart skipped a beat when I saw roasted bone marrow. Ohmygoodness. I was already excited. At promptly 7pm, we surveyed the cocktail selection, settled on sangria (which to be honest, wasn’t very good and disgustingly overpriced) and chose four dishes from the chalkboard menu and waited.

First, came the cheese platter with complimentary jams, chutneys and homemade raisins, followed by the roasted bone marrow (sigh!) served with salsa verde and flakes of sea salt, I’m happy to report that it was exactly what I envisioned: smooth, silky, and unctuous on grilled bread, I could have eaten five plates of it. But I didn’t, we shared it and moved on to the next dish, burrata and asparagus salad, splitting it into three equalish portions (Terroni wins for making an oozier, creamier burrata). The most surprising thing however, was the beef heart with mussels.

I was expecting a slab of bloody meat and a bundle of steaming mussels to arrive at our table, but when the cute waiter set down a neat plate of slivered beef heart, topped with tender mussels (out of their shell) along with a creamy sauce, a scattering of breadcrumbs and frisée tower, I was blown away. This is serious business folks. The most intriguing part wasn’t the tattoos that snaked along our waiter’s arms and legs, but how the heart was seared just on the outside yet retained a decent chewy texture and you couldn't detect any peculiar beefiness, it was mildly meaty and yet still gracious. 

We didn’t have space to stomach another morsel, so we made our way to the Bier Markt, which I think was the smartest idea ever. Overwhelmed with a dizzying selection of beers, we took our time and chose our first round: Lindeman’s apple beer, Muskoka’s Mad Tom India Pale Ale and Rochefort Trappist Achel Ale. I’ve only just started to enjoy beer and now I’m tempted to go back and try more, the ale was complex, rich and fruity, a far cry from the regular beers I've had. It even smelled good. On our second round, I had the Muskoka Mad Tom, as I was immediately drawn to the floral yet bitter flavours. And as if our big dinner wasn’t enough, we ordered the smoked meat poutine which was so darn tasty, a fellow patron walked by, curious to know what we ordered. I highly recommend it.

 

The following day, I went to Ennismore with a good friend to visit another good friend. We’ve been getting together since the beginning of the year for a girl’s night, and this time, we showed up at our friend’s house near Turtle Bay. Despite the sad, gloomy sky hovering above us, that didn’t stop us from by mixing very strong mojitos and dining on the patio with BBQ salmon and creamy potato salad.

  
Afterwards, we took our drinks and sat by the dock. It was quiet and peaceful, something that I rarely take time for. Buzzed and a little lightheaded, we made our way back to the house for some dessert: Eton mess, a beautiful mixture of vanilla yogurt and heavy cream topped with broken up meringue cookies and berry compote.

On the same busy weekend, I rushed off to meet up my fellow food-lovers for our third Delicious Project, this time taste testing mushroom risotto. But first, Lisa bought pastries from La Boheme to kick off our epic taste test, we shared croissants, almond croissants, chocolatines, danishes, and vanilla custard filled croissants. Then came the serious work, photographing risotto ingredients and sampling four types of risotto (life is really hard), Lisa has documented the results here. I’d say my summer is off to a great start. 

Tweet

Recipe here!

Apple Spelt Cake

I can’t handle alcohol. Not only do I lack the enzyme to break it down (alcohol dehydrogenase, in case you were wondering), the stuff discolours my face to a bright red, not unlike that of a tomato. My neck and legs morph into blotchy map of continents and oceans. I know I know, I exhibit Asian glow at its finest.

On an empty stomach, alcohol gives me a severe bout nausea, impaired hearing, dizziness and several trips to the bathroom. I don’t touch it unless I have food in my belly, so the alcohol has something to soak up. 

I learned the hard way how careful I have to be when alcohol is nearby. A few years ago, I was about to board a 12 hour flight from Toronto to Shanghai and I had not eaten in several hours, because I refused to given in to the tasteless sandwiches and overpriced fast food at the airport. My carry-on bag was heavy with snacks to carry me through the arduous flight. While my neighbours unfurled the foil-wrapped chicken and rice that smelled nothing like chicken and rice, I was digging into my carrot salad, dressed with just a touch of lemon and cumin. As they stabbed rubbery gray pieces of lifeless meat with plastic forks, I was feasting on homemade granola, infused with shredded coconut and roasted almonds. 

I don’t like the stuffiness and foreignness of airports. I don’t like flying since I usually fly alone and it gets dreadfully lonely. I especially despise the unflattering lights of the airplane washrooms (Is that me in the mirror? When did I look so splotchy? Where did that pimple come from?). So to amuse myself 30,000ft above the ground, I bring homemade snacks, it’s the only thing I look forward to when I fly economy.

Don’t go thinking that the free flow of liquor makes flying bearable. It ain’t so fun when you get up to use the bathroom, faint and bang your head smack dab on the door, the impact reverberating the plane’s cabin and you tumble to the carpet for two seconds, wake up, crawl back to your seat in style (on all fours, no less) and pretend nothing happened even though all eyes are on you, staring with the same wonderment, “WTF?!”

It turns out that chugging down that gin and tonic was a baaad idea (I thought it would be nice to sleep through the flight). I had to endure a nagging, sickening feeling of nausea for the remaining 10 friggin’ hours of my trip. Apparently, the high altitude and cabin pressure heightens the effect of alcohol. Liquor: 1 Girl with Pathetically Low Alcohol Tolerance : 0

So, moral of the story, I try to be cautious with alcohol. I don’t touch gin and tonics anymore, the drink is ruined for me. I do however bake with it. In fact, this cake has 3 (!!) tablespoons of rum. Captain Morgan evaporates in the oven and leaves behind a rich and subtlety dark flavour to the cake, something you wouldn’t expect from a name simply called Apple Cake.

It’s not exactly a pretty cake, definitely not a cake you would ask out on a date. It’s kind of rough around the edges, a little imperfect, but the more you coax her, the more charming she is. Apple pieces are wedged into a buttery batter, making the cake extra moist. I switched out the all-purpose flour with spelt and whole wheat flour to add nuttiness to the cake and it worked beautifully, each squidgy biteful a little nibbly and grainy and bursting with crisp apple flavour.

You ought to try this cake too, it makes a good breakfast especially with a dollop of plain yogurt. I promise no fainting, no raucous behaviour, just save the rum for the cake.

Tweet

Recipe here!

Chai-Spiced Apple Crumble

In my undergrad years, my roomie and I lived on the Celestial Seasonings Bengal Spice herb tea. It was caffeine free, ergo, bedtime beverage approved. We went through a box in just a week, infusing our breaths with the comforting, homey scents of cinnamon, ginger, cloves and cardamom. It’s a surprise we didn’t empty the box sooner, since Montreal winters are famous for plummeting to -40°C. 

 

I was inspired with the idea of a chai spiced dessert using the bounty of apples this fall. But I’m not too keen on warm fruit. Warm pies make me cringe. Grilled pineapples make me shudder. Hot crepes with soft banana slices make me gag. There’s something about the texture of cooked fruit that I have major issues with, I prefer eating fruit plain and cold.

I can’t say I never cook with fruit, since I like to showcase the best of what the season has to offer. If I do bake with fruit, I make sure that the dessert is served at room temperature, like this blueberry galette or this peach clafouti.

But I digress. This apple crumble goes beyond the usual addition of cinnamon in the crumble mixture. Here, a flurry of other ground spices joined the oat-crumble topping: ginger, cloves, and cardamom, similar flavourings as the Bengal Spice tea. When I massaged butter into pea-sized bits with the rolled oats, puffs of flour filled the air, tickling my nose with the spices. I chopped up apples, tossed in sugar and cornstarch (to help thicken the sauce), dumped the crumble mixture on top and baked it at 425°F. In half an hour, my nose was more than just tickled; it was seduced with the sweet perfume of apples and spices.   

The pan bubbled and squeaked with hot fruit juices as I pulled it out of the oven. I waited impatiently for it to cool, but unfortunately, the apples turned out too syrupy sweet (from excess of sugar, but Eureka! Apple crumble dolloped on plain yogurt makes a superb breakfast!). On the bright side, the topping transformed into beautiful crunchy, nubby bits of gold, the pungent mix of spices hugged the apples in all the right places, giving it that exotic zing, that hit of something different other than the old stand by of cinnamon and apples. 

I wonder if I make crumble only for the topping, which I could eat all day long, especially if it’s spiked with chai--I just couldn’t refuse.

Tweet

Recipe here!