Remember how I loved my Momofuku Milk Bar experience so much?

The Momofuku Compost Cookie

I finally got around to trying my hand at recreating the Compost Cookie experience.
Verdict:  failure.  But, not because my cookies were icky.  They just did not taste like the original.  But given that I have a small apartment oven, made up my own recipe and am not a pastry chef of great provenance, I done just fine.

I wanted to keep my first attempt simple.  No crumbs or grounds.  (I also know too many non-coffee drinkers.)  Butterscotch chips can be hard to come by, so I added peanuts.  Next time, I would add more of everything.  I had about two cups of add-ins, but I easily could have increased that to three.  Another “aw, shucks” moment came when I bit down on decidedly uncrisp potato chips and pretzels.  I have no clue how the ones in the original stay so crispy!

In any case, what follows is one of my favourite drop cookie batters—note the lack of white sugar.  To ensure I always get chewy cookies, I underbake by just under a minute.  Freezing is fine.  I actually love cookies just out of the freezer.  After a defrost of about ten minutes, I am in cold dough heaven…
(Remnants of my childhood eating English Bay batter out of the fridge.)

My Compost Cookie

2/3 cup melted butter
2 cups lightly packed brown sugar
2 eggs
2 tablespoons hot water
2 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
2-3 cups add-ins (such as chocolate, nuts, pretzels, potato chips)

Pre-heat oven to 375 degrees.
In a large bowl, beat melted butter, brown sugar, eggs and hot water until smooth.
In another bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Stir into butter mixture until blended.
Stir in add-ins. Drop onto ungreased/parchment cookie sheet.
Bake 8 to 10 minutes. Let cool 1 minute, then move to wire rack.

Bigger cities mean more people.  Often, you’re also looking at more people in a small area; more bustle.  More bustle means more running into people, rubbing shoulders, more earshot.  I like that.   Especially at restaurants.  It reminds me of New York.   So, while here in Vancouver I’ve particularly enjoyed meals at small restaurants that are too tight and naturally, too loud.   Right or wrong, I attach the buzz of such places to the buzz of urbanity and want to return again and again.  That is why I bring up La Quercia (The Oak) again.
Small, tight, loud.
Excellent food—that happens to be Italian.

For my first visit, my party and I ate our way through 9, n-i-n-e, courses.  This time, I noticed you could do a 5- or 9-course family style set menu. Remembering my previous food baby… my dining date and I chose the 5-course menu.   As the kitchen takes your food allergies and aversions into consideration, what follows is the perfect fresh and seasonal menu created just for our table.  I noticed that the table over did 9 courses and had none of the same dishes as us.  Methinks that’s pretty cool.

Some days I dream about those perfect soft, but supportive pasta pillows.  Other days I want to savour little spoonfuls of that light-as-air soufflé.  All days usually require a moment where I want to twirl al dente spaghetti.

House-smoked trout

Parmigianno souffle

Fennel salad with walnuts and blue cheese

Spaghetti ai frutti di mare

Gnocchi with walnuts and gorgonzola

Ruby trout with chanterelle sauce

Saffron and quince tart, chocolate mousse, tiramisu

Dreams can become reality:  I already have another reservation.

La Quercia
3689 West 4th Avenue
Vancouver

I’ve had the privilege of having some pretty terrific jobs the past few years.  Terrific not only in the fact that experience brought me to an exciting opportunity here in Vancouver, but because I’ve met some amazing people and lifelong friends along the way.  I’m happy to say that I’ve lucked out again in this regard.
To introduce me to a popular dining spot, some coworkers took me out to Baru Latino Restaurante one Friday eve.  I can’t say much more beyond the food was very good and the house specialty-ceviche-was outstanding.  Oh yes, and Vancouver Magazine’s recommendation of last year to try the arepa con chorizo was a good one.

Plantain, cassava and yam chips

Baru ceviche

Arepa con chorizo

Guava quesadilla

Why can’t I say much more?  Because I was too busy enjoying an evening out with new friends to pay too much attention to the food… beyond taking photos with my sangria goggles on, that is.

Baru Restaurante Latino
2535 Alma St
Vancouver

The beauty of a big city is choice.  Especially a big American city.  When it comes to food and restaurant choices, New York is very comfortable assuming a Top Dog place. Having been there a few times now, I must admit that New York is less of a foodie heaven for me now.  Not because there isn’t good food, but because you know it’s everywhere.  So, it’s simply about making a choice.  I tend to get more excited searching and trying to separate the wheat from the chaff—that’s the Edmontonian in me, I think.  And because visiting there for me is now more about spending time with good friends and feeding off New York’s unrelenting energy, I’m less concerned with my choices.  With so many, you make good, you make bad, but in the end, you’re always in a city that is a feast for the eyes. This visit, some previous favourites solidified their status in my life more because of nostalgia than for what was served.  Some new tries were fun, but not necessarily requiring a return or recommend.  I’ll make a giant leap to say that perhaps it’s a sign of the economic times that the best tastes of the week were the comforting ones that came from Dumont in Williamsburg; pear and parsnip soup, a burger and fries, and an amazing mac ‘n’ cheese warmed some souls on a lovely fall evening.

The seeking out of specific spots happened more often during the day when I was wandering alone.  And this seeking out was about two things:  sandwiches and ice cream.  I’ve been craving these a lot lately (or always) and being in New York meant that I could easily find some delicious options.  I find great pleasure in a good sandwich.  Nice bread, fresh fillings, the right amount of chew, two-fisted without being insurmountable.  It’s surprising to me how hard getting these attributes can be at times.  Not in New York, however. In addition to Bread and Snack for some yummy sandwiches, I made a trip to the Hampton Chutney Co. in Soho for what essentially is a South Indian sandwich:  the dosa.  Since being introduced to Hampton Chutney a few years ago, it’s become a place I must make my way to when in New York.  Although nowhere near authentic in terms of fillings, the crepes themselves are as crispy and chewy as they should be and the accompanying chutneys always fresh.

Fontina & grilled veg at Bread

Seasonal dosa with mint and pumpkin chutneys

I have no problem admitting that I’m a big fan of Tasti-D-Lite.  I never say no to soft-serve treats and because I grew up in the 80s around all things sugar-free, my palate is completely immune to chemical aftertastes.  That being said, I had none this journey because I had my sights set on more exciting options.

At the Shake Shack in Madison Square Park, I had my first try of frozen custard.  It’s correctly described as the meeting of soft serve and hard ice cream:  the give of hard ice cream with the texture of soft serve.  I loved my cone of that day’s flavour, salted caramel.

Another soft-serve adventure was to Milk Bar, of the Momofuku clan.  Essentially the clan’s dessert outpost, the Milk Bar has quite a following for its cakes and pies, delicious cookies (the Compost variety I tried were crazy good), and inventive soft-serve flavours.  On offer were sweet and salty cucumber, watermelon, horchata, and cereal milk—and guessing what flavour of cereal it is that day is part of the fun.  I sampled what I’m sure was Corn Pops.  I think my afternoon treat of horchata soft serve was one of the highlights of my trip.  Especially as it complemented my walk around the East Village on a warm, fall day.

Gelato is a form of frozen milk I can never say no to.  So, knowing that I would be on the Upper West Side one afternoon, I made my way to Grom, a chain from Italy.  Creamier than most gelato I’ve tried, I was happy with my cone of vanilla and seasonal cinnamon.

After a turn at the Atlantic Antic, I got my first scoops of gelato from my most favourite gelateria—Il Laboratorio del Gelato—at One Girl in Brooklyn.  Ricotta and caramel.  Later that week, I celebrated/bemoaned my last day in New York by heading to their Lower East Side shop to partake in fresh mint, rum raisin, and malt.  There is never enough.

And there is never enough time in New York.

Fresh from a New York holiday of gastronomical delights, I find myself in food heaven withdrawal. After a week of the best of everything, where striking two items off of  “Anthony’s Bourdains Top Thirteen Things to Eat Before You Die” in a matter of one afternoon, between bagel and lox at Russ and Daughter’s and a pastrami sandwich at Katz’s Deli was a breeze, it’s not easy coming home. With some remnants of culinary NYC delights that happily fit in a suitcase such as Jacques Torres hot chocolate, and the object of my chocolate obsession, Michael Recchiuti delivered to our NYC hotel from San Francisco, the transition was made easier. ( I couldn’t resist taking advantage of the US only shipping opportunity to enjoy what I believe to be the BEST chocolate in the world. I do not make this statement lightly. Between the rose caramel, fleur de sel caramel, varietals, fruit jellies, and the many other offerings in the burgundy box, I am so far ruined for all other chocolate. Period.)

Now don’t get me wrong, here in Edmonton we have some delightful culinary spots that I am fiercely loyal to (Tree Stone Bakery, Cafe Leva, Culina, Viphalay, The Red Ox Inn, Acajutla to name a few), but we certainly have had some gaping holes and can’t expect to find the same variety that a populated city like New York can offer (like a counter service shop that has dedicated itself to turning out perfect porchetta sandwiches, cleverly called Porchetta). That is why I could not be more delighted to have intersected with friends on the same mission for sweets, and to have enjoyed a chilly October Saturday afternoon right here at home in the newly opened Duchess Bake Shop on 124th Street in Edmonton.

After treats at NYC’s Balthazar Bakery and the post-Paris constant craving for Pierre Hermé macarons, I am in a constant state of lusting after proper French sugar delights, and I am rejoicing in the fact that they have finally arrived in grand form in Edmonton. Duchess Bake Shop is a simple and elegantly decorated space with high gilded ceilings, a shabby chic chandelier, clean white lines,  and a well appointed pastry case that highlights their beautifully executed creme tarts, croissants (almond croissants and pain au chocolat which they were sadly sold out of….I will be back to sample the almond paste filled double baked almond croissants with a secret wish that they will be as delicious as their counterparts at Thomas Haas in Vancouver), duchess signature petit gateaus, madeleines, florentines, and of course, macarons.

With anticipatory glee, we ordered a plate of macarons in all four of the remaining flavours of the day: chocolate, strawberry, pistachio, and lemon. With word that they had sold out of the lavender and salted caramel, and with a rose flavour in the works, I knew I would be back soon for more. For those who have not had the pleasure of enjoying a macaron before, do not confuse these with the sugary coconut and chocolate bonbon that we call a macaroon here in North America. Wikipedia describes the macaron as “dating back to the 18th century, macarons are a traditional French pastry, made of egg whites, almond powder, icing sugar,  and sugar. This sweet pastry came out of the French courts’ baker’s oven as round meringue-like domes with a flat base. Macarons are sandwich-like pastries made with two thin cookies and a cream or ganache between the cookies.”

The crisp, chewy, soft goodness of these well executed macarons, combined with the excellent ganache fillings that are not too sweet, and are naturally flavoured, was just the post-holiday medicine this girl needed. Add to that excellent cafe au laits and a nice selection of black teas, and Duchess Bake Shop gets two sugar coated thumbs up. Exquisite French Pastry Shop? Check. Now if only someone would open a good Jewish deli……

You never forget your first for a reason.
The anticipation, the longing, the excitement for what’s sure to be a sensory overload.

I had my first pupusa six years ago at Acajutla.  It was a moment that changed my carb-loving life forever.

Not much more than a corn dough pocket filled with good stuff like seasoned pork, refried beans, and cheese, the simple pupusa from El Salvador has few culinary rivals in my world.

[Apologies in advance for the many cellphone camera photos.]

Naked Acajutla pupusas

Fully dressed Acajutla pupusas

I was happy enough with my Acajutla relationship until El Rancho came along.
With additional filling offerings such as zucchini and loroco, my fidelity was seriously in question.  After my first taste, my heart now belonged to another.

If you’re from Edmonton, it is likely that someone at some point has asked if you are on Team Acajutla or Team El Rancho.
Me? Team El Rancho.

El Rancho pupusas

But in a town where you’re lucky enough to choose between the two, the difference is really just preference, not because one is substantially better than the other.
I find that El Rancho pupusas tend to be smaller, thicker, and with a crispier exterior.  They are easier to eat with your hands if you like to split them open.  Acajutla pupusas are cheesier and have a larger diameter.  In terms of the pupusa accoutrements, Acajutla makes a better salsa roja (red sauce), El Rancho, a better curtido (cabbage slaw).

El Rancho pupusas split

It’s all apples to apples after that for me.  I like the homemade tortilla of an Acajutla burrito, but I like the El Rancho insides better.  Acajutla gets many points for their avocado sauce, but El Rancho has better desserts… I love their tres leches cake.

Acajutla burrito

And I can’t forget about El Rancho’s salad.  I have no idea what their brown dressing is, but it’s addictive.

El Rancho's house salad

I will greatly miss it.

*****************************************

This post marks my end in Edmonton and my beginning in Vancouver.

Cream has jumped the Rockies and set herself up on the West Coast.

This weekend, I finished getting everything out of boxes and am starting to feel comfy in my new home.
To celebrate, I went for pupusas.
With one mixed, two bean and cheese, and a side of guacamole as a nod to Acajutla’s green sauce, I have found a little piece of El Salvador to remind me of home.  And right on Commercial Drive.

El Rancho
11810 87 St
Edmonton

Acajutla
11302 107 Ave
Edmonton

Rinconcito Salvadoreno
2062 Commercial Drive
Vancouver

Bacon. Salty, sweet, crisp, chewy, fatty goodness. For breakfast next to eggs, for lunch nestled between toast, lettuce, and tomatoes, for dinner a la carbonara, and for dessert?

With comedy odes to the cured confection and a smattering of hot young chefs rethinking the salty ingredient, bacon is back on the menu as a decadent treat to finish the meal. Portland’s Voodoo Donut is turning out the maple glazed bacon donut. LA’s Animal Restaurant , which was our LA dining highlight this summer, has found a hit in its Bacon Chocolate Crunch Bar with Salt and Pepper Anglaise. And closer to home, Edmonton’s Kerstin’s Chocolates boldly offered chocolate covered bacon for those salt loving Dads for Father’s Day.

Inspired by pork, salt, chocolate, and those that have gone before, I embarked upon the Bacon Chocolate Chip Cookie project. With a recipe in hand that had only too many disclaimers about adjusting this and that to avoid dryness, I decided that I would adapt my own perfect chocolate chip cookie recipe. It goes a little something like this….

Bacon Chocolate Chip Cookies with Maple Cinnamon Glaze

1 cup butter, softened

3/4 cup sugar

3/4 cup brown sugar

2 eggs

2 tsp vanilla

2-1/4 cups all purpose flour

1 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

2 cups of cooked bacon bits (Good quality bacon is key. A quick cheat: use the fresh cooked bacon bits from Sunterra Market)

1 cup dark chocolate chips

1/2 cup white chocolate chips

5 strips of cooked bacon, cooled and cut into one inch strips (to top the cookies)

For the glaze:

1 cup powdered sugar

2 tsp maple extract

1 tsp vanilla

1/4 tsp cinnamon

1 tbsp water

Heat oven to 375 degrees.

Combine flour, baking soda, and salt, and set aside. In a large bowl, cream butter, sugars, eggs, and vanilla, until light and fluffy. Gradually stir flour mixture into creamed mixture.

Add both chocolate chips and cooked bacon bits. Mix to incorporate.

Line two baking sheets with parchment paper. Using a cookie scoop (my favorite cookie baking tool next to parchment paper) or your hands, make approximately one inch balls.

Bake for a total of 9-10 minutes. I recommend swapping the cookie sheets racks half way through baking to ensure even baking of both.

While the cookies bake, mix the Maple Cinnamon Glaze by combining the powdered sugar, maple extract, vanilla, and cinnamon, and mix together until smooth and creamy.

Once baked, move cookies to a cooling rack, add a small amount of glaze, and top with the reserved squares of crisp bacon.

Soft, chewy, sweet, salty, indulgent cookie perfection. Warm from the oven, they were so good that I forgot to share.

Turning 30 was never a big deal until I was about to turn 30.

Cliché, much?

But, really, I’ve never stressed about age until now.  And it’s not stress in the form of hunting down wrinkle creams and creating a bucket list; it’s the quarter/middle/late-life crisis kind.  The kind that makes me want to drop everything and travel the world, purge my possessions, and rack up my credit card on airfare and walking shoes.  When you’re in such a thrisis, you see age as coming with responsibilities and expectations.  I’m wanting none of that right now!

My age has also revealed too much comfort.

So, a baby step was to shake up my birthday routine.  Instead of either hosting the party at home or going out to eat, I asked Sugar if she would be up for a weekend in Vancouver; for a quick change of scenery and the opportunity to eat too much.  With my partner-in-crime confirmed, airfare bought, and accommodations arranged, all I had left to do was count my blessings as a few other friends agreed to join—I am a lucky girl.

Relying on some word of mouth and Vancouver magazine, I charted out a foodie journey that allowed for flexibility and whim.  Our two dinners were reserved and everything else was up for grabs.

I cannot say anything bad about what we ate.  Nothing was disappointing, nothing was just sustenance.  It was all delicious indulgence.  Here is my synopsis of our culinary itinerary.

Raw + Canvas

We sat in this Yaletown art studio-cum-café-cum-wine bar for a short post-flight rest before getting dolled up for dinner.  Wine in tea cups, Oyama meats, buttery Nicoise olives, and painting in the background.  A destination?  Likely not, but a definite gem if you’re in the area.

1046 Hamilton St

Chambar

Pre-dinner cocktails with sides of candied thyme and blue cheese.  There is nothing like a good cocktail and we found that you couldn’t go wrong with any of the ones listed on the menu.

562 Beatty St

Fuel

Birthday dinner at one of the top-rated Vancouver restaurants.  The kind of place you go to once just to go, but likely will one day want to go back to because the aroma and texture of perfectly cooked pork belly, duck confit, and fresh fish will call to you.  The service was impeccable.

1944 West 4th Ave

Café Medina

The sister café to Chambar, Medina has the best Belgian waffles I’ve ever tasted.  You almost cannot call them waffles because they are so superior to the breakfast diner standard.  Sweet, buttery, and chewy, the only way I could describe them was to say they were croissant-like.  With a waffle each to start, we also had egg-based mains that kept us full until almost dinner.  The lavender Americano and white chocolate, pistachio, and rosewater mocha also kept us revved throughout the day.

556 Beatty St

The Diamond

I had read that Van mag’s Bartender of the Year was opening up his own spot in Gastown.  Lucky for us, it opened mere days before our arrival.  It’s a nice second-floor space with big windows, old school cocktails with modern flourishes, and the best pot stickers I’ve ever had.  If I get to go back, I’m ordering what looked like a duck banh mi.

6 Powell Street

La Quercia

My favourite meal of the trip.  As there were six of us, we were required to order family style, which they politely told me when I made the reservation.  We were all expecting a typical Italian flow of antipasti, pasta, mains, and dessert.  We did not get what we expected.  What we got for $40 per person was nine amazing courses.  Antipasti of prosciutto and melon, tuna and barley salad, paper thin veal, parmesan soufflé, and a simple green salad.  We got three large plates of rotini amatriciana, orecchiete with fresh favas, tomatoes, and ricotta, and a porcini mushroom risotto.  This was followed by seared salmon and the most tender roast chicken.  They rounded us off with a dessert offering of lemon crema, strawberry semifreddo, almond torte, and chocolate cake.

I was very impressed to see that the table next to us received a completely different meal despite also being a table of six.  They took our suggestions, likes, dislikes, and allergies into account and presented us with a personalized and memorable experience.

You must go.

3689 West 4th Ave

Solly’s Bagels

Some friends had told me that there were decent bagels to be found in Vancouver at either Siegel’s or Solly’s.  Solly’s won out because I had also heard that their cinnamon buns were legendary.  While the latke we tasted wasn’t noteworthy, we were happy with the bagels.  The dense, chewy carb I wanted was definitely trying to shine through.  Thankfully, I would not describe a Solly’s bagel as a bun with a hole—the product too-easily found in Edmonton.

And I would agree that the cinnamon buns are something special.  Because they are rolled tighter than the average large bun you find, the cinnamon punch is greater.  We got some to go and savoured them later at home while watching a missed episode of True Blood.  Slightly heated, with or without cream cheese icing, they are what carbohydrate dreams are made of.

368 West 7th Ave

49th Parallel Coffee Roasters

While Caffé Artigiano is often recommended, we were given a tip that 49th Parallel is actually a much better spot for coffee and the like.  With a nicely designed café in Kitsilano, 49th Parallel offered us an excellent Americano and fresh-brewed herbal iced tea.  The cappuccino foam art that brought a lot of attention to Artigiano was also available here.

2152 West 4th Ave

Rangoli

 The lines to get into Vij’s are as well-known as the food I think.  Because of our flight, there was no time for a final meal at the famous Indian restaurant, so we did the next best thing:  a late lunch at Vikram Vij’s café, Rangoli, which is right next to Vij’s.  It is also a place where you can buy the full range of Vikram’s frozen meals and spices.

I’ve never eaten at Vij’s, but based on what I ate at Rangoli, I could not go back to Vancouver without waiting in the famous line.  Our late lunch was delicious, delicious, delicious.  By this point in our trip, eating too much was not possible, so we ordered everything we wanted to try.  Veg pakoras with mango-mint chutney and daal; lamb, beef, and lentil kebabs with date-tamarind chutney; pulled pork with chapatti; pepper and portobello mushroom curry with naan and beet salad.  Each dish had distinct and bright flavours, was well portioned, and proved why Mr. Vij is so popular.  Some of the best Indian food I’ve ever had.

I was obsessed with that chutney.

1488 West 11th Ave

The first of many more Cream & Sugar foodie trips to come I’m sure!

A few months ago I went to Providence for a conference and forgot to bring my camera for blog purposes.  Last month, I had a conference in Denver and I remembered my camera (sometimes) but I didn’t do a very good job of capturing my experiences.  However, I am writing about them, so I should at least receive an A for effort.  In addition to remembering my camera, I also prepared my bank account as I knew I would likely have to go beyond my employer’s dining per diem.  I can’t say much about Denver itself because I spent most of my time engaged with work and so I did not get out to see the city.  My only impression is that it’s a lot like Calgary:  spread out, mountains, a pedestrian-only street downtown, and a bustling core.  Oh yeah, and lots of cowboys.

I did some research before I left about where I might like to eat, but I knew that I would be limited by my budget (no cabs) and how far my legs would want to take me.  And after hours of work, your legs never want to take you very far.

On my first night, I walked to Larimer Square and stepped into Rioja, which was one of the top rated restaurants on Yelp Denver.  A warm Saturday night meant that a lot of people were out and all I could snag as a walk-in was a stool at the “Chef’s Table.”  Unfortunately, it’s not along the main line, but you do get to see desserts being prepared and be up close and personal with other diners.  As I was dining solo, this suited me fine.

I started with the spring salad and was told by one of the young cooks that it was the best thing on the menu.  Although a little hard to eat with the pesky little peas and fava beans, the carrot-chamomile reduction on the place was superb and the grilled red onion baskets were an artful touch.

Sorry, before the salad arrived, the breadbasket came by and I double-dipped:  lavender sourdough and olive ciabatta.  There wasn’t enough room (and I didn’t have the nerve) to also ask to try the goat cheese biscuits and orange-fennel rolls.  The bread is reason enough for me to recommend Rioja.

I followed with the starter size artichoke tortelloni in parmesan broth with truffle essence.  Very, very good.  I was most impressed with the artichoke filling.  I often find that when you cut into filled pasta, the filling comes out in one chunk, leaving a last bite of only an empty pasta pocket.  Not the case here.  Someone in the kitchen knows a lot about texture.

An early dessert twinge was the s’mores pot de crème, but as I was told that it was nearly five ounces of chocolate, I made another choice—the strawberry shortcake.  The sorbet was a little too cold to be attacked nicely, but the strawberry-basil salad made up for it, as did the strawberry consommé that was not too sweet.

On night two I headed to the vegetarian hipster joint City O’City with a couple I met through the conference.  I forgot my camera.  Oops.  We shared an appetizer of three fried items:  gastrique fries, jalapeno-sweet potato croquettes, and beer-battered onion rings.  My main was an excellent thin crust pizza bianco topped with fennel, spinach, pear, and pecorino. 

I had big intentions of making it down to Fruition on my last night.  But after a too-early rise and a long day of sessions, I just wasn’t up for a nice meal out.  Everything I read suggested it’s one of the best restaurants in Denver, though.  I debated bringing food back to the hotel.  I remembered how I had seen a long line out the door over lunch at Chipotle.  That was right up my alley, but burrito + hotel room didn’t seem like a good mix.  Fast-food dining it would be.

I was impressed by the focus on quality meat and attention to detail (such as real cilantro in the rice).  I’m not big on filler items such as beans and rice, so with a request for easy rice, I added grilled peppers and onions, tomatillo salsa, cheese, guacamole, and my meat of choice:  carnitas.  While burritos always have to overcome fillings not being distributed well because of assembly, I was happy that I didn’t end up with only one filling at the bottom.  The salsa was nice and spicy, but there wasn’t enough.  I appreciated that the pork was rather chunky instead of being overly shredded.  It allowed me to see that I wasn’t eating something overly processed; that is, a pair of hands rather than a machine had likely pulled it.  Would I seek out Chipotle in the future?  Probably not, but now I can say that I’ve been.

Yelp also pointed me to a place called Kuulture.  I recently was telling Sugar that I had tasted Pinkberry in NYC and wasn’t a huge fan.  Personally, I’d seek out Tasti D-Lite or Mr. Softee before making my way back to an unflavoured froyo place.  But, Yelpers had talked about peanut butter and taro “creamy” flavours at Kuulture, so I had to make a stop.

Glad I did.  I ended up going with half original and half taro.  The original is very tart and similar to the yogurt at Pinkberry.  Kuulture also has acai, blueberry, and pomegranate tart versions.  The taro flavour is more like soft serve.  I regretted not getting only a bowl of that.  The mouth feel was just a lot more enjoyable.  The texture of the original made me think of sorbet.  More crystallized, I guess I could say.  One dollar extra for the handful of blackberries seemed outrageously steep, but when you’re eating every meal out, I’ll take my fruit and veg when I can get it.

So, do you know if I get to say I’m in the Mile High Club now that I’ve been to the Mile High City?  *wink*

I think I was predisposed to love all things Italian.

I grew up in North Edmonton, and my earliest childhood friend who lived right up the street was a good Catholic Italian girl, with a mom who provided me with an early taste for authentic Italian food. Then there was the elementary school Madonna obsession that I shared with my Italian BFF who actually owned an “Italians Do It Better” pin. I couldn’t disagree. The two of us spent hours in the basement learning every move in the “Papa Don’t Preach” video. I knew who Nonna e Nonno were from the time I was six, in my teen years I dated boys named Bruno and Marco, a certain Cicero boy threw rocks at my window late at night one too many times in high school, and I have watched Moonstruck more times than I can count on two hands. I’m pretty sure the movie explains everything you need to know about life in general.

The taste of home cooked pastas, fresh made pizzas, and simple salads never tasted like the Italian food found in Edmonton restaurants. The simple flavours of a few key ingredients that were never masked by too much garlic, fistfuls of oregano, or sauce from a can. The freshness of tomatoes from the garden, fresh basil, a generous amount of salt, and perfectly al dente pasta was the key. It ruined me.

Then one day, Rao’s was introduced to me. The illusive New York restaurant that no one can get a reservation at. A city institution where even the hippest celebrity would be hard pressed to get a table. You need to know someone….or get the cookbook. That seemed easier.

Since Cream alluded to the “perfect pappardelle main” in her True Blood tribute, I could hardly go without sharing it. The Rao’s Pappardelle with Hot Italian Sausage Sauce has since become a crowd favorite that has been served at many a dinner party in my home. One look at the back cover of the Rao’s cookbook, with Vincent and Anna Pellegrino Rao’s photograph in her big sunglasses and roller set hair, and you will fall in love with them and the recipes inside.

One key step that is so often missed when preparing pasta in our culture of “sauce from a can that serves as a topping”, is the process of combining the sauce with the freshly strained pasta over heat. This is a key step in any good pasta dish as it draws the sauce into the pasta. Add a little cheese to that and it pulls it all together. Too much sauce is never a good thing when it comes to authentic Italian food. It should just coat the pasta and then can be served on the side for those who desire more.

So heat up the hot rollers, break out the vintage Givenchy sunglasses, get to Spinelli’s and pick up some fresh basil, De Cecco Pappardelle, San Marzano tomatoes, Little Italy Italian Sausages, Pecorino Romano, grab a bottle of red and a bottle of white on the way home (or two), and invite some friends over. There’s plenty to go around.

Pappardelle with Hot Sausage Sauce

1 lb pappardelle

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

2 – 28 oz cans of San Marzano tomatoes (hand crushed)

6 hot or mild Italian sausages

3/4 cup chopped onion

1 1/2 cups dry white wine (I use a Pinot Grigio)

6 fresh basil leaves, torn

Pinch of dried oregano

Freshly ground black pepper to taste

Salt to taste

3 Tbsp freshly grated Pecorino Romano

Remove casing from sausages and break meat up into chunks.  Heat  Extra Virgin Olive Oil in a large sauté pan over medium-high heat.  Add onions and sauté for 3 minutes until just translucent.  Add sausage and sauté for about 5 minutes or until lightly browned.  Drain off excess fat.

Add wine and stir to combine.  Raise the heat and bring to a boil. Boil for about three minutes or until liquid has reduced slightly.

Add tomatoes and salt. Return to a boil, then lower heat and simmer for about 20 minutes until sauce has thickened slightly.  Stir in basil, oregano and pepper.

While sauce is simmering, cook the Pappardelle pasta in a large pot of rapidly boiling water until al dente.  Drain and return to pot.  Stir in ½ cup sausage sauce.  Toss together.  Add Pecorino Romano. Transfer to a large serving platter. Spoon extra sauce over the top and sprinkle with more Pecorino Romano cheese. Extra sauce and cheese can be served on the table for those who like more of course.

Mangia!