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!

A Dinner to Please Any Crowd

One major epiphany I had in my university days as I swam languidly in cookbooks, finding my passion for food and cooking, was the magic of something called slow-roasted tomatoes. I don't recall exactly how I came about making them, but I do remember sinking my teeth into one, still warm from the oven. My heart skipped a beat, I couldn’t believe the candy-like juices swirling in my mouth and how the flavor of seemingly innocent everyday tomatoes had increased ten-fold while sunbathing in the oven. It was like my first kiss, that excitement, that rush to do it again, how it wasn't at all like what you expected.

Cooking tomatoes at a low temperature for an unusually long time concentrates its sweetness, turning even butt ugly tomatoes into the white swan of all tomato cookery. You don’t even need a recipe (but I'll give you one anyway), just fresh, meaty tomatoes, the Roma variety will do the trick. All you need to do is halve them, gut out the seeds and juices, brush with minced garlic, sea salt and olive oil, roast at 200°F for at least 5 hours. It will look pretty dull for a while, but soon, its skins will shrivel and the peppery scent of tomatoes will linger as you cook the rest of your dinner.

I served them as crostinis for my friends this weekend as an appetizer. I rubbed garlic onto baguette slices, topped with slabs of the wrinkled tomatoes adorned with basil. There was a loud orchestra of crunching and bread munching across the table, including a mumbling words that sounded vaguely like “Mmm...SOO...good!” If there was a tomato god, I suspect he would approve and feast on these crostinis everyday.

For the main course, I decided on parsley risotto with roasted mushrooms. I don't make risotto often, but I've always been obsessed with its creaminess, its warmth, its comforting goopy texture. I like trying new recipes and wanted to take a swing at Jamie Oliver's risotto for a while, and it did not disappoint. The herb does duo duty with its vibrant pop of color while perfuming the rice with grassy notes, and when it reaches your mouth, it releases its sharp, clean flavors, reminiscent of dashing meadows and sunshine. Button mushrooms enhance its earthiness, adding a slight meaty texture to the otherwise smooth risotto.

  

But no dinner is complete without a side of vegetables and roasted cauliflower could be your new best friend. They were crispy on the outside, yet still soft to the teeth, caramelized even, and entirely transformed from your old stand-by of raw vegetable sticks. Despite the explosion of miniature white trees descending on the counter, when I chopped them into bite-sized pieces, they charmed me 30 minutes later, sizzling in the pan, fiery hot and seared to golden perfection. 

When the time came for dessert, oohs! and ahhs! chimed from the dining table like a christmas choir as I unfurled the Earl Grey-Infused Chocolate Tart. Then, as if on cue, the salted caramel sandwiched between the chocolate ganache and the pâte sablée (short pastry) oozed out like hot lava, only it wasn't hot, it was a cool, dark liquid, sticking to your fingers the way only good things should.

As I sliced triangles onto mismatched dessert plates, my friends exchanged excited chatter. Sadly, I lost a good amount of the caramel, as evidenced by the pool of copper liquid moving amoeba-like from the pan, to the cutting board, to the granite tabletop.

Armed with forks, we dug in. Though it was more like we hammered in. The pâte sablée was rock solid and stubbornly refused to break apart, but oh dear gawd, was it goood. I could feel every muscle, every ligament, every bone in my body relax. Even my brain shut up.

The ganache was cold to the tongue, but it melted ever so slowly, teasingly, just like Lindt truffles do so well. The caramel cut through the sweetness of the chocolate like a knife, bestowing it with notes of amber and a hint of salt. The buttery crust added a stark contrast to the silkiness of the other layers, its crumbly, sandy, even nutty texture, reminded one friend of the Almond Rocha candies. 

For a few moments, it was quiet. There was only the clinking and clanging of forks scraping empty plates for caramel. There's no denying it, this is a sinfully rich dessert and may leave your friends clamoring for more, but one thing's for sure, I will definitely be making this tart again and again.

But the best part of all was the rhythm of chit-chat, the eruption of giggles, the tension when someone reached the climax of a story, and the undeniable chemistry between my friends was something I haven't felt in a while. At least not in my own home. The last time I hosted a dinner party with friends was nearly two years ago, in Montreal. It was something I loved, bringing friends together made me very happy, very satisfied, solidifying my home. It's taken sometime and a few unexpected turns to get to this point, but I can safely say, that I've settled in Toronto. It feels like home.

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Recipe here!