cream and sugar » from the hands of cream and sugar…

Solo Suppers Beyond Cereal: Cherry-vanilla pancakes with lemon butter

cream — Fri, 16 Jul 2010 04:54:43 +0000

I have a slight cherry obsession right now.

But really, don’t we all? I’ve never met someone who doesn’t get a little crazy when they’re in season; buying and eating them by the bag on an almost daily basis. I’m extra lucky that Vancouver is much closer to the land of the beautiful yellow-pink Rainier cherries. I can never turn down their blush. They’re essentially flirting, right?

Cream quirk: I always prefer to eat them cold.

It would be fun to make a cherry pie again. But that takes more effort than I want to expend on a warm summer day, and you certainly shouldn’t have pie for dinner if you’re trying to step up from cereal. How about pancakes? Sold. But I had no syrup. But I had no desire for it. Butter would be fine, even better with some lemon zest to balance the sweetness of the cherries. An easy two-bowl pancake batter (try Sugar’s excellent three-bowl batter if you have a few more minutes), a hot pan and some good TV, and I had a lovely, seasonal solo supper.

Dining companion: Breaking Bad

Cherry-vanilla pancakes with lemon butter

Adapted from Mark Bittman’s Everyday Pancakes

Serves 2.

0.5 cups flour
0.5 cups whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon sugar
Pinch of salt
1 cup milk
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
0.5 cup pitted and quartered fresh cherries
A little melted butter, vegetable oil (or spray)

Preheat a non-stick pan over medium-low heat.
Mix all dry ingredients in a bowl. Beat egg, milk and vanilla separately.
Make a well in the dry ingredients. Add wet ingredients and cherries and mix until just combined. Do not over mix. Some dry lumps are okay.
When pan is hot, brush a little of the melted butter or oil on to the surface.
Add batter to pan in pancake size desired. Once bubbles appear across the surface of the entire pancake, flip over and cook for another minute or two. The first pancakes will take a little longer to cook than later ones.
You can keep pancakes warm on a sheet in a 200 degree oven.

Lemon butter: mix a few tablespoons of room temperature butter with a few teaspoons of freshly grated lemon zest.

Cream’s Cursed Eggs: A little redemption

cream — Sun, 04 Jul 2010 21:34:01 +0000

There it is. My first poached egg.
Oozing its deliciously rich yolk all over my warm, buttered toast.

With your encouragement, I decided to get back on the horse and try my hand at eggs again.
They are one of those things that everyone should be able to make. My inner perfectionist cannot let a task like eggs get beyond me.
How can I ever entertain at brunchtime if I don’t know how to cook eggs?

With some credible scrambled eggs prepared earlier this week, I decided to go full throttle on the last little egg in my fridge. Poaching.
One egg equals one try equals just go for it.
Following the excellent step-by-step instructions of the Smitten Kitchen, I successfully poached that little egg.
And then I ate it.
And it was delicious.

Before I return to the omelette, I think I may try poaching TWO eggs at once. That’s a much bigger horse.
New boots may be required.

Solo Suppers Beyond Cereal: Beans on Toast

cream — Mon, 28 Jun 2010 21:44:51 +0000

My attachment to Coronation Street has been made quite clear. Despite the fact that I tune out or fast forward the majority of each episode, I still need to know what’s happening with each character, still need to be on top of who owns the Rover’s Return, and thus still need to make sure my PVR records it. Like a good headline skimmer, I just need to know what’s going on. The real appeal, of course, is that despite ups and downs and much drama, everything stays the same: the pub, corner shop, chippy and family dysfunction.

While I’d love to try Betty’s hot pot one day and ready access to bacon buttys would make lunch hour more delicious, the food of the show rarely inspires. But for some reason, I started to have a hankering for beans on toast. I think the last time I had it I was 13 and a schoolmate made it for us. This lack of difficulty hardly makes the dish blogworthy, but it is a little more advanced than cereal. And I tried to fuss it up a smidge to make it more than just a meal from a can… toasted ciabatta, fresh herbs into the beans and finished under the broiler with aged white cheddar. Oh, and accompanied by a simple green salad with fiddlehead ferns. In my mind, I headed down to the Rover’s after for a pint.

Dining companion: The City

Beans on Toast: Pretty self-explanatory. Warmed baked beans on toasted bread. I used the Eden Organic variety and found them to be okay. Definitely needed salt though.

Cream’s Cursed Eggs

cream — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 03:14:26 +0000

I don’t remember liking eggs as a little girl, but I’m told that I did.
Since that moment of forgetting, I’ve spent much of the time not liking them. You don’t like broccoli? I don’t like eggs. Just one of those things. It wasn’t until I was in my mid-20s that I decided to give them a heartfelt go and try to like what so many others took pleasure in. Slowly, slowly I developed a taste for the unhatched. I still prefer them mixed with other things, cheese preferably, but I’ve had many memorable meals where I’ve actually chosen to eat eggs. You can now often find one hard boiled in my lunch. I can’t imagine eating bi bim bap without the characteristic swirl of the soft yolk.

But making them delicious at home? Man alive, I couldn’t do so to save my life.

Here are two recent failures.
I did successfully make some slow-cooked scrambled eggs over the Christmas holidays. When I tried to make them again one night for dinner? Fail. Mind you, I did get distracted by a naughty storyline on Coronation Street. No excuse. Second fail was trying to make an omelette using Mark Bittman’s help. It tasted fine, but I was not satisfied. It was not fluffy enough.

I think I’m done trying — don’t give me any advice. Like a good cappuccino, a good ice cream cone and a good pupusa, some things should be left to experts outside of my home.
I know where to get a good poached egg, Sugar makes some mean scrambled eggs and fluffy omelettes are up the sleeve of any good diner cook. I’ve got my bases covered.

My best eggs are the ones in my baking. Let’s go with that.

No Waffling About Liege Waffles…

sugar — Fri, 11 Jun 2010 15:00:26 +0000

My palate was first introduced to the Liege waffle, though at the time I couldn’t call it by name, by the lovely Cafe Medina on Vancouver’s Beatty Street. I was immediately ruined for all other waffles. Their texture, the aroma, and such sweetness…oh my.

Cafe Medina

Still thinking about them upon my return home to Edmonton, I thought perhaps I would do a little “recherche” and find out why those waffles tasted SO GOOD! The answer? These were no ordinary Belgian waffles, these were Liege waffles. Rather than a waffle batter, these are made from a yeast dough and special pearl sugar from Belgium (which incidentally I soon discovered is impossible to track down in Edmonton). The waffle originated in the Belgian city of Liege in the 18th century as an adaptation of a brioche bread dough. The result is a chewier, denser, richer waffle, with hits of caramelized sugar surprises courtesy of the alchemy of waffle iron heat hitting pearl sugar bits. Think waffle + yeast donut + chewy croissant + warm + yummy toppings.

After Cream and I visited Cafe Medina for a summer birthday weekend last year, we were both hooked. Their offerings of rich toppings like rose caramel, pistachio white chocolate, and fig marmalade were the proverbial cherry on top. It was settled. During Cream’s stay chez Sugar while prepping for her Vancouver move, we would attempt the Liege waffle. Armed with dulce de leche, mango butter, and raspberry laced chocolate toppings, all that remained was the elusive waffle dough. Upon realizing that pearl sugar did not exist at any specialty store in the entire city, internet research told me that I could substitute broken up sugar cubes. Check. With patiently made yeast dough in place, and pretty sugar chunks folded in, they hit the waffle iron. They smelled right. The looked right. They tasted WRONG. Sadness set in.

Liege attempts at home...look pretty, taste bad.

After seeing even Bobby Flay fail miserably on Throw Down against Manhattan’s Liege Waffle King of “Wafels and Dinges” fame, I decided I shouldn’t despair too much. Clearly this is a trained art that requires the kind of perfecting that comes from experience and tradition.

So last summer, with waffles fresh on the brain and satisfaction not achieved on the waffle home front, it was like a beacon of light when right down the street from home we spotted a small white van with waffles on the side. They looked like the round free form variety of the Liege waffle, and Cream and I pulled over the car, examined the van, wondered where we could find these waffles, and left a note that only two crazed foodies would leave, with our contact information and a waffle request. No reply.

THE van

Fast forward to June of 2010 where a tiny white waffle van is parked in front of the WCB building on 107th Street and 99th Avenue and you will find a very happy, very sugar craving, nine month pregnant Sugar, standing in the rain ordering caramel topped Liege waffles in Edmonton!!!! It’s in fact the same van that was parked up my street last summer, and its lovely Belgian proprietor, Bamir Basha, has just opened shop mere weeks before under the name Eva Sweet. Quelle chance! I excitedly let him know that I had left a waffle love note for him last year. He remembered the note on the van last summer and told me that he was in the process of deciding if he was going to make a go of it or not at the time, received the note, and thought, “I should just do it!” After moving to Canada and achieving his dream of buying a house just five years ago, his second dream of once again having a waffle van came to be this late spring.

Eva Sweet's Perfect Liege Waffle Doughs

Bamir excitedly hauled out a photo of himself in his original waffle VW van in Begium, showed me the beautiful doughs in three varieties (original vanilla, cinnamon, and maple) laced with gorgeous pearl sugar drops that he imports from Belgium, and popped my order into the hot iron. As the sweet smell made its way to me, I shared with him my failed attempt at the Liege waffle. He kindly sympathized and said that even after years of practice sometimes just the humidity and climate can ruin a good batch of dough. Too kind. Finally, with hot waffles in hand and caramel sauce dispensed, I enjoyed my first bite. Perfection.

Eva Sweet's Liege Waffle

Mr. Basha’s excitement about what he’s doing, his loving attention to the quality of his product, his careful calculation about getting just the right amount of sugar and sweetness, his passion for introducing something he loves from his Belgian home to Edmonton’s untrained palate, and his drive to share love through food is evident. That love and attention equals DELICIOUS! I will be back….perhaps far too often. Baby likes sugar.

Scarborough Fair Pasta

cream — Mon, 31 May 2010 00:47:31 +0000

The green of Vancouver is lovely. When I moved here, I knew I would have trouble with the grey. I never imagined, however, how helpful a view of green grass could be in the middle of January, or how awesome such lushness smelled—even through the nasal steroids required for allergies—during the height of spring. I also never imagined the green would get to my thumbs.

Although averse to both dirt and responsibility, my first apartment patio deserved some foliage, especially in this climate. Two pots, one in either corner, now hold a perennial and some herbs.

Noting to my helper at the garden centre that I wanted low-maintenance plants, we settled on sage, lemon thyme, rosemary, Vietnamese coriander, cilantro and Italian parsley. Mint would need a pot of its own, and it was still too early for basil to be outside. Certain my lack of gardening skills would quickly kill what was in this first pot, I decided to hold off on the basil and mint.
But after a little over a month, things are growing, not dying and needing some culinary uses.

What to do with a fistful of herbs? I don’t really know. Pasta?
It was only after I started making this dish that I realized I referenced Simon and Garfunkel. And it’s only right now that I realize that the greenspeak, herbs and musical reference suggest I’m turning into a hippie Vancouverite.
For those who know me… don’t despair. I still do not own a strip of GORE-TEX.

Scarborough Fair Pasta

Your basic aglio e olio with chopped sage, rosemary, parsley and thyme added at the end (instead of only parsley). I also added some frozen peas to the pasta during the final minute or so of cooking.

Coriander, Mango, and Sunny Days

sugar — Thu, 27 May 2010 06:17:35 +0000

When the weather turns warm, my palate shifts from rich cold weather offerings to fresh light goodness. This year we happily rounded out the cold season with a comfort food potluck for one last hoorah…savory meatballs with pine nuts and raisins in a red wine tomato sauce, perfectly baked mac and cheese, spinach salad with a warm bacon vinaigrette and blue cheese, freshly made minestrone with garlic crisps, soft sauteed zucchini with mozzarella, and of course, chocolate bread pudding for dessert. Of course this event ended up being perfectly timed for the first properly hot day of the year and the nine of us, cozily squeezed around my small dining room table, were reminded why we don’t eat these delicious riches when the season turns to hot. The post dinner food coma was inevitable and the heat accelerated its effect. Totally worth it…

With a proper farewell to the days of cold weather eating, we christened the grill shortly thereafter with a new recipe from Bill’s Open Kitchen, by Australian superstar chef Bill Granger. I’ve waxed on before about my love for all things Bill, and his recipes continue to find their way into my regular kitchen rotation. Simple. Fresh. Delicious.

The warm weather menu: Bill’s Marinated Coriander Chicken with Cucumber Relish served with my own Mango and Herb Salad. This simple grilled chicken scented with fresh cilantro, peppercorns, citrus, and the sweetness of the grill, pairs perfectly with his Asian inspired cucumber, shallot, and chili relish that is tangy with a hint of sweetness. The fresh addition of my ripe mango salad with herbs and a light acidic dressing made for a lovely combination that I will certainly visit again and again.

Bill’s Marinated Coriander Chicken with Cucumber Relish

Mango Herb Salad

For the salad:
2 ripe mangoes cut into bite size pieces (the organic ones from Planet Organic are amazing!)
1 head of fresh butter lettuce washed and torn
2 green onions sliced
handful of chopped fresh cilantro
tbsp of chopped fresh dill
1/4 cup of sliced cucumber
1 avocado sliced

For the vinaigrette whisk together:
4 tbsp good quality olive oil
1 tbsp freshly squeezed lime juice
1 tbsp rice wine vinegar
1 tsp honey
1 finely diced shallot
freshly ground pepper to taste

Combine all of the salad ingredients in a big pretty bowl and toss lightly with vinaigrette just before serving. Happy sunshine days!

Solo Suppers Beyond Cereal: The rest of the soba noodles

cream — Tue, 04 May 2010 04:42:01 +0000

The anxiety that sets in on Sunday nights is a relic of grade school. The call to the return of an early bedtime that once was “sit, Ubu, sit” is now the end credits song of one of many delicious HBO dramas. It would be easy to continue free-for-all weekend eating with something rich to smother the anxiety, but I always lean toward healthy as Monday approaches. In this case, pretty pink spring salmon called out to me. I had intended to make a light sauce with stock, but there was none to be found in the pantry when I came home from grocery shopping. A (quickly opened) bottle of white wine was a worthy substitute and an accompanying glass became the something that reminded me that Monday morning pop quizzes are no longer a concern.

Dining companion: Treme

Salmon: Preheat broiler. Cover the fish with a paste made from minced garlic and ginger, salt, pepper, a little sesame oil and a little Sriracha. It will take about 10 minutes to cook.

Soba: Cook until al dente in boiling, salted water. Add cut broccoli pieces during the last minute of cooking.

Sauce: Saute chopped garlic and minced ginger in a few teaspoons of sesame oil over medium heat (higher heat/quicker cooking if you’re doing a proper stir fry). Do not brown. Add chopped shallots and sliced bell pepper. Saute a few more minutes until noodles are ready. Deglaze pan with white wine and reduce. Toss with noodles and broccoli. Add salmon.

Toast the weekend.

Making dinner, making special

cream — Tue, 27 Apr 2010 04:30:06 +0000

In preparation of a simple Sunday supper for a friend and I, I was hit quite strongly as to why I’ve become attached to food and cooking these past few years: love.

Cooking for others has become the most tangible way for me to tell them that I love and care for them without directly saying, “I care about you and want to do something to show you that I do.” It’s done not by thinking those words, but by feeling them. This is hardly revolutionary. But as someone who is trying to put that caring toward herself (Solo Suppers Beyond Cereal), I need to regularly remind myself. It’s not about keeping up with the Culinary Jones’, but keeping on top of making my special peeps feel as special as I can make them. Food is nourishment. For the body and the heart. The act of sharing it with another person or showing a little love to yourself is so basic, yet so important. It is nourishment for the soul.

The act of making a simple supper made me happy, made me busy. The simple supper made someone else happy after a long week. Thus, it was one of the best of recent memory.

Cornmeal-Crusted Tilapia

3 bowls: One, about 0.5 cup of flour, salt and pepper. Two, a beaten egg. Three, about 0.5 cup of cornmeal.
Dip tilapia fillets (washed and dried) in flour, then egg, then cornmeal. Place on greased, tinfoil-lined baking sheet and bake for 10 minutes at 450 degrees. Then broil for about 3 minutes until lightly browned.
Serve with sauce made with 0.75 cup of plain yogurt, 1 minced garlic clove, 1/4 cucumber, seeded and chopped, juice of 1 lemon, salt and pepper.

Shaved Asparagus and Fennel Salad

I skipped the capers, topped with shaved Piave Vecchio.

Last-Minute Salad

8 halved cherry tomatoes, 3/4 cucumber, seeded and thinly sliced, 1 sliced mango, few teaspoons of chopped mint. Dressing of 3 parts sesame oil, 1 part rice vinegar, 1/2 part honey, 1/2 part Sriracha.

Rice pudding and Blueberry-Lime Compote

Compote: 1 cup of frozen blueberries, zest and juice of 1 lime, 2 teaspoons of sugar. Simmer everything together for about 20 minutes. Cool completely.

Solo Suppers Beyond Cereal: Drunken pasta

cream — Tue, 20 Apr 2010 04:49:48 +0000

If there is one thing in my repertoire that I do as often as cereal, it’s pasta. It’s easy cooking, satisfies carb cravings and is an excellent vehicle for cheese of pretty much any variety. I like red sauce, but I rarely have any in my fridge or pantry. I almost always have aglio e olio ingredients, however. On this occasion, I also had an open bottle of red wine that was past its drink-by date (I know, how could I? Believe me, I do know.) and some green veggies. I took a nod from my David Rocco cookbook and made this drunken pasta.

Dining companion: No Reservations: New York’s Outer Burroughs

Cook pasta of your choice in boiling salted water until about 2-3 minutes shy of al dente, which is usually at least 2 minutes less than what the package tells you.
During the last minute or so of cooking, drop in your chopped asparagus and broccoli.
Meanwhile, saute a chopped clove of garlic and some chili flakes (to your heat preference, I do at least a teaspoon) in a few teaspoons of olive oil over medium heat in a pan, until fragrant and garlic is golden.
Add about two-thirds of a cup of wine and then raise the heat slightly. Be careful of splatters. Add the par-cooked pasta and veg to pan. Stir pasta with sauce until wine has been absorbed by pasta/reduced to almost nil.
Salt, pepper, cheese.