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. 

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Recipe here!

Beer Chicken and Potatoes with Salsa Verde

 
I've never liked the taste of beer. I have a high school friend who deemed it was like drinking “carbonated piss”, but ever since last summer, I found myself slowly enjoying the bubblyness and developed a newfound respect for pee beer.

A few weeks ago, we got a taste of summer—in March. It was sunny, blue skies, I even drove to work with the window all the way down, letting the warm air blast through my hair. As the temperature continued to rise, I switched on the air-con at home, which would have been effective if I didn’t cook coconut lentil soup for dinner. Apparently burning hot dishes are better left for a cold winter’s night.

I still don’t know the difference between the various families of beer/ale/lagers/pilsners and always look up each one on Wikipedia when curiosity strikes, but I do know one thing’s for sure, beer makes food, both sweet and savoury, taste freaking awesome. 
 

This beer chicken, adapted loosely from Laura Calder’s French Food at Home, is a fine example of how an ordinary can of an everyday beverage can convert you. It’s a simple recipe, so simple in fact, I bet you can do it blindfolded. All you need is chicken pieces (I used chicken thighs—I’m a dark meat kinda girl), wash and pat them dry, then tuck in some bacon and plenty (and I mean plenty) of garlic cloves between the skin and scatter it over the roasting pan. Pour beer over the pan and stick it in the oven for about forty-five minutes, until the chicken is cooked through. 
 
Trust me, fifteen minutes in, your home will smell like a garlicky bacony microbrewery. You will wonder what took you so long to make this dish. You will find it hard, excruciatingly painful even, to wait for the chicken to cook, because at this point, it will smell so damn good. The good news (I promise there’s always good news) is you can crack open the same beer and lounge on your balcony, enjoying the beautiful sunset while your dinner bubbles away in the oven. 




If you’ve ever had drunk chicken, this is what the meat tastes like with a distinct bitter flavour. The chicken is exactly how it should be, moist, tender, juicy, laced with sharp garlic and smoky bacon. I highly recommend you eat this double-fisted, with your elbows on the table, chewing loudly and with a second (or third, or fourth, why stop there?) glass of cold beer on the side--it's the only way.

The words salsa verde have always allured me, its fancy name slides off the tongue like a slick dance move. I used Molly’s recipe which is a slurry of lime juice, cilantro, olive oil, jalapeno and lots of raw garlic, drizzled over plain baby potatoes to give it a kick. It’s not only pretty, but the acidity brings out the brightness in the beer chicken. In other words: try it. If were like me and think beer tastes like fizzy piss, this might just change your mind.

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Recipe here!

Mustard Glazed Salmon

I'm a liar. My pants are on fire. I promised to share recipes from my cookbooks, but frankly, I haven't toyed with new ideas just yet. Instead, I'm going to share some fish with you.

One of the most popular ways to cook fish in Chinese cuisine is to steam the whole thing, and pour in a sauce, or rather, a mix of heated ingredients consisting of sesame oil, soy sauce, fresh ginger and whispers of green onions. That's all. A recipe isn't even needed, my parents can cook fish this way blindfolded if they wanted to, it's intuitive, unpretentious and easy.

As my fellow Asian friends can attest, the most prized part of the fish are the cheeks. These are meatiest portions and if someone at the dinner table were to pick this for you and leave it in your rice bowl, you were obliged to say “thank you”, lest a slap on the wrist for seeming disrespectful. My parents used to save this cheeky part for me all the time, perhaps I have the answer to my undeniably round cheeks, as my friends always lovingly tease me about.


To the contrary, my favorite part of the fish is the belly. When steamed, the heat vapors seem to transform this ordinary part into meat so silky, its slippery in your mouth, as though the fish has sprung to life. Dabbed in just a touch of soy sauce, the fish tastes even sweeter and nothing completes the meal better than a bowl of long-grain rice. My parents have never been fond of the fish belly, whereas I dig in headfirst (or rather, belly-first) once the fish is set on the table. They do however, remind me that my grandpa used to love the fish belly too, which I makes me glow inside because I miss him.


This recipe is about salmon however, and though there isn't the bright kick of green onions, it's pretty darn good too. My mom has been begging me to find new ways to bake salmon, since it's something we eat once a week, and to be honest, salmon dressed with a few squirts of lemon juice can get old pretty quickly.


I tried this a few times already and knew I'd be arrested if I didn't tell you about it. It's simple and you ought to make it dinner tonight. The fish we buy is salmon steak, a beautiful slab of pearly orange meat, practically glowing in the afternoon light. It's seasoned with a dash of wine, salt and pepper, then smothered with mustard, covered with foil and baked. Meanwhile, you can prepare the rest of your meal, be it rice, pasta or salad, anything will do. In the last few minutes before the fish is done, take it out from the oven, carefully unwrap the foil, brush with honey, cover it up again and allow it to bake a few more moments.


I'll admit, I prefer how the salmon looks when it's still raw, but when it's cooked, oh my is it sensational. The mustard I used is spiked with chives and fennel, a souvenir I bought for myself in Paris (le sigh), and it's wonderful on the fish, adding a creamy flair, kind of like how pinning a flower to your hair, or topping your outfit with a fedora makes you stand out in the crowd. The brush of honey embellishes the fish with a coat of sweetness, heightening the softness of the flesh. And don't forget to wrap the salmon with foil to trap in all the moisture as it bakes, lending the fish a velvety texture throughout.

My favorite part of the dish is picking at the tail ends of the steak, you know, those unattractive narrowed ends of the salmon, lying there innocently. It's the most tender bit of the fish and I love lapping it up with the extra marinade left in a pool on the plate.

We ate the fish with some vegetables and rice, then promptly left the empty dishes behind, so we wouldn't miss this breathtaking view.

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Recipe here!