I admit it.  I got sucked into the sacrilege that was Top Chef Masters.  I bemoaned the lack of Tom’s presence and (yes, really) missed Padma, but I enjoyed it still.  Rick Bayless made it for me, as did Zooey Deschanel’s food restrictions.
In honour of Rick, I made his tortilla soup a little while ago and had two remaining tortillas.  I also had queso fresco and pickled jalapenos. And salsa.

And Coronation Street… we’re steady dating.

Queso Fresco Quesadilla

1. Crumble queso fresco on one side of one tortilla (I made two).  Place as many jalapeno rings as you can handle.  Salt and pepper.

2. Spray a non-stick skillet with cooking spray or grease with a little vegetable oil. Medium heat.

3. Folding tortilla in half, place on skillet.  For better crisping and melting, place something on top of the folded tortilla to press/weigh it down, such as another pan.  When browned to your liking (a few minutes), flip and repeat.  The second side will cook quicker.

4. Cut in half.  Salsa-fy.

I saw a caramelized apple and cheddar grilled cheese sandwich on Tastespotting and wanted something similar.  Caramelized apples.  Why not caramelized apples and onions?  No cheddar in the fridge.  Manchego.  Some arugula for good measure.

Dining companion:  April’s Bon Appetit

For this sandwich, I …

1. Sauteed (one) sliced onion in a little olive oil and butter over med-high heat.  Kept watch, stirred often.  Still got some too-dark bits.  About 10 minutes later (or longer if you have more time, I was hungry), added a chopped apple (I had Pink Ladies) and a little salt and pepper.  Continued to stir and saute until apple was tender.

2. Drizzled some pain au lait (post to follow eventually) with a little truffle oil and broiled in the oven until lightly toasted. (Only a few minutes, keep watch.)

3. Layered some manchego, arugula, apple-onion mix, and more manchego.  Broiled again until toasty and cheese was nicely melted.  (Again, not long.)

Is it cheating if I have cereal for breakfast?

You can’t really get any better than an Easter brunch of pancakes, bacon, sausages, sweet and savoury versions of French toast, frittata, tea, lattes, and champagne cocktails.

Oh wait, you can if that brunch is homemade.  Check.

And you can if that brunch is made by Sugar.  Check.

When your plate looks like the following, there’s nothing left to do but smile, pick up your knife and fork, and dig in.

The bliss that comes from eating such food confirms why breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

A high from sugar, white flour, cheese, pork, butter, pork and butter fat, alcohol, and caffeine is the stuff of legend.

So, what’s that red stuff on the plate?

Overheard:  Fruit at breakfast is like green vegetables at Thanksgiving.

An unnecessary reminder that you’re not being as good as you could be in the health department.

That’s where the Barefoot Contessa comes in.  Like many contemporary chefs, she’s not shy of adding a little richness to her fruit and veg.

For Easter brunch, I made our fruit fat (read: delicious) by making her mascarpone fruit dip.  It was like melted vanilla ice cream.  Rich, but not crazy-rich like whipped cream.  Not too sweet.  Just perfect.

Mascarpone Fruit Dip

1 small tub (around 250 g) of mascarpone cheese

2 tablespoons of honey

Half a teaspoon of vanilla extract

Seeds from one vanilla bean

Mix—you can thin with cream if you like.

Then, serve.

Lastly, enjoy.

The ease with which we tend to take Sundays—the day of rest—often means dinners that can take time and involve the word “slow.”  But, the phenomenon of a Lazy Sunday also exists.  And it exists a lot in my life.

So, a post about a lazy meal on a lazy Sunday is going to be just that.  The laziness also extends to it being posted a week late.  But as it’s Sunday again, it all works.

The most effort this lazy salad required was making the red wine vinaigrette and slicing the fennel.  Otherwise, everything was simply chopped:  pre-washed baby romaine, kalamata olives, tiny sweet peppers, avocado, yellow tomatoes, fennel, fresh basil, store-bought rotisserie chicken.

The modified ham and cheese required the use of the broiler.  Therefore, I technically cooked.

After slicing the cheddar biscuits (from the freezer), I placed shaved prosciutto, sliced Granny Smith, and goat cheese on top.

Dessert was Breyer’s.  The digestif was a good dose of laughing while watching the gang of 30 Rock with my Lazy Sunday partner in crime.

I did not make a Sunday roast, but I did turn the oven on and the chicken had been roasted at some point.

So there.

I hope that I will never be faced with the reality of having to choose just one food item to consume for all of eternity, but if such tragedies should occur, I can confidently say that I will say “cheese please”. Is there anything more delightful than an array of fine cheeses? Piave Vecchio, Manchego, Gouda, Goat Cheese, Aged Cheddar, Bocconcini, Blue…I adore them all. The stinkier the better I declare!

Last year, I encountered THE cheese mecca, on a quiet street near the Musée D’Orsay in Paris. The Androuet cheese merchant has been in operation since 1909, and has perfected the art of maître fromager affineur and cheese gastronomy. Selecting the finest cheeses France has to offer, aging each cheese to it’s peak maturity in perfect conditions, and offering their dairy delights to happy cheese lovers at their flavourful best.

Walking into the shop, I was immediately hit with the aroma of mingling aged delights. The only problem here was where to start, so we left that to the expert. With a quick request for advice, soon we were being offered a little wooden board with a lovely aged goat cheese with a firm white crust, a smaller disc of firm rosemary goat cheese, a large piece of pungent holey Swiss, and a little wooden boîte with a soft brie looking cheese inside. This was cheese lovers cheese. We enjoyed it throughout the day…a little goat cheese on the Pont Neuf overlooking the Seine, the soft liquid cheese in the wooden box on the steps of Sacre Couer in Montmartre…soon it was fini!

Since frequenting Androuet is sadly not in the cards for me, I manage to get my fromage fix here in Edmonton between the Italian Centre Shop, Paddy’s Cheese Market, and Costco (which has a surprising selection of high quality cheeses at excellent prices). With cheese collected, I assemble my version of “cheese and its best friends” comprised of sliced pear, caper berries, olives, prosciutto, candied nuts, and HONEY! My first encounter with cheese and honey was in a little wine cellar in Florence. It was love at first sight. Sharp, pungent, hard cheese dipped in honey. My favorite at home version of this treat couldn’t be easier, or more addictive.

A few spoonfuls of liquid honey, a drizzle of truffle oil, and a few generous cranks of freshly ground black pepper. Stir it up, serve it with Piave Vecchio or Manchego, and watch it disappear. Bonjour Valentine…

The food memories that I’ve collected of late have been all to do with friends.  The warmth and laughter and love that have filled rooms both small and large have cemented introductions to new, and now beloved, tastes.  I remember the Brooklyn apartment where I had my first Carr’s black pepper cracker; who first made me lobster; at whose house book club was hosted when I first tasted Manchego cheese; the first sweet dip into a pot of black truffle honey.  My relationship with Ayvar started much the same way; a girls’ night of gossiping and Gossip Girl chatter while eating chips and cheese and olives and salsa.  The salty-carby goodness that bonds all good girlfriends.

But what was this red stuff?

It was Ayvar.  My new favourite condiment (with my preference leaning toward the spicy versions).

And as a condiment is how I like to use it. 

Sandwiches?  Yes.

Salad dressings?  Most definitely.

Dips?  Of course.

Yes, I know that I could probably make my own with red peppers, eggplant, tomatoes, and “spices.”  But doing so would rob me of the simple pleasure of having another reason to go to Spinelli’s or the joy of knowing that entertaining can be as easy as opening a jar, pulling the tab on a box of crackers, and unwrapping some cheese.

Did I say entertaining?
I meant the joy of snacking on the couch while watching trashy daytime television and knowing that it’s likely too late in the day for you to still be in your pjs.