Maple Syrup Forever

A staple in my pantry is maple syrup. I buy 12 1-litre jars of the organic stuff from Quebec when it goes on serious sale at the grocery store—like 50% off. The supply lasts 6-9 months in our house. We use it as a topper for pancakes, waffles and French toast, bien sûr, but we use it in other ways, too.

Maple syrup is the secret ingredient in our go-to salad dressing: ¼ cup olive oil, ¼ cup rice vinegar (unseasoned), 1 tablespoon maple syrup, 1 vigorous shake. Super easy and super tasty—a hard combo to beat.

We also marinate salmon in a 70/30 combo of soy sauce (we prefer Bragg’s, which is technically liquid amino acids derived from soybeans) for a minimum of 10 minutes, maximum of 30, then depending on how much of a rush we’re in, either broil the salmon in a 425º convection oven for about 7 minutes, or barbecue it over a dampened wood plank for a smokier flavor (it still tastes darn good from the oven).

I’ve recently started using maple syrup for baby back ribs, too. I never used to make them. That was my dad’s job. About once a month, we’d head over to my parents’ house for a feast of those baby backs. The Boy and The Girl loved this meal. There would be dry ribs, but really, it was the sauced ribs they chewed up. And the company.

My dad died this year. It was unexpected and very fast, and I don’t think my family has really digested it yet.

We miss him terribly, and we missed his spareribs, too. So Alpha Dog and I decided to make our own finger lickin’ feast in his honor. Only without the bottled sauce my dad used. Too much sugar and crap. We just  liberally salted and peppered the racks, then rubbed them with a thin coating of maple syrup.

Suffice it to say that these were the best dang ribs ever. We chewed them clean down to the bone, and while we did, we told stories about my dad, and how we missed his ribs, and how we missed him.

We still do.

Nicely Picked Blackberry Pie

Sometimes The Boy is such a mensch. He was lounging round the other day, watching the US Open on TV, NHL.com on his computer and playing double solitaire on his smartphone, when my mother called. She wanted fresh blackberries for her pie and would someone pick them? Today? I told her I was heading to a meeting, but I’d do it as soon as I got back.

The Boy must’ve overheard, because when I returned, not only had he picked the blackberries, he’d picked the big, juicy, sweet ones we’ve only ever found by the river.

I was so happy. So was his grandma. And so were all the folks who had her blackberry pie for dessert that evening.

Double Crusted Blackberry Pie

The pie crust really matters here. My mother swears by Cook’s Illustrated Foolproof Pie Dough, the secret ingredient of which is vodka. And that crust is pretty impressive. But I actually prefer the recipe from Dorie Greenspan’s Baking, From My Home to Yours, which uses a higher butter-to-shortening ratio. (In a pie crust, butter provides the taste, while shortening provides the flakiness.) Please note that whichever pie crust you choose, you’re going to need to let the dough rest in the fridge for at least 1 hour, and up to 2 days.

Anybody-Can-Make-A-Pie-Crust, double crust (see below)

4 cups fresh blackberries
3 tbsp unbleached all-purpose flour
1 cup unbleached sugar (you can use the regular stuff, too)
1 tbsp lemon juice
1 tbsp butter, cut in a at six or so pieces

1 large egg, beaten with 1 tsp water, for egg wash
Sugar for dusting

1. Butter a 9-inch pie plate. Then, between plastic wrap, roll out the first piece of dough to about ⅛” thickness. Transfer the dough to the buttered pie plate, fit in, trim the edges to ½” overhang and cover with plastic wrap. Between plastic wrap, roll out the second piece of dough to about ⅛” thickness. Keep between the plastic wrap and place on baking sheet. Refrigerate both the pie shell and top.
2. Position rack in lower third of oven and preheat oven to 425º.
3. Combine the blackberries, flour, sugar, and lemon. Let sit for 5 minutes.
4. Remove pie shell and top from the fridge. Place the filling in the pie shell and dot with the butter.
5. Center the top crust over the filling and gently press down. Now for the tricky part: fold the overhang from the top crust over the bottom and then crimp the edges. I like the classic scalloped look: Use your index finger to push the inner edge out while pinching the outer edge in with the thumb and index finger of your other hand.
6. Using a small, sharp knife, cut a few slits in the top crust. Then place the pie plate on the baking sheet and refrigerate for 30 minutes (you don’t have, too, but if you can, do).
7. Right before baking, brush the top crust with the egg wash, then sprinkle the crust with a little sugar.
8. Bake 30 minutes, then reduce the oven temperature to 375º and bake for another 30 minutes or so until the crust is a gorgeous golden brown and the filling is bubbling up through the slits.
9. Transfer to pie rack and cool for at least 30 minutes before serving with mascarpone sweetened slightly with icing sugar and almond flavoring.

Anybody-Can-Make-A-Pie-Crust (for a 9-inch double crust)
adapted from Baking, From My Home to Yours, by Dorie Greenspan

3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
4 tbsp unbleached sugar (you can use the regular stuff, too)
1-½  tsp salt
2-½  sticks (10 oz) very cold unsalted butter, cut into tablespoon-size pieces; put in the freezer after you prep
⅓ cup very cold (frozen is best) non-hydrogenated shortening (I use Earth Balance); put in freezer after you prep
About ½ cup ice water

1. Pulse the flour, sugar and salt in a food processor until combined (2-3 pulses’ll do it).
2. Add the butter and shortening and pulse only till the butter and shortening are cut into the flour. Don’t overdo it; you want the mixture to be about the size of cottage cheese curds.
3. Sprinkle 6 tablespoons of water over the mixture, then pulse a few long times. You want a dough that will stick together when pinched, so use more water if you need to. Big pieces of butter are fine. Scrape the dough out of the work bowl and onto a work surface.
4. Divide the dough in half. Gather each half into a ball, flatten each ball into a disk and wrap each half in plastic. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour before rolling (or up to 2 days).

French Toast à la Best Ever

Alpha Dog only cooks on Sunday mornings. It’s not that he won’t cook more. It’s that we (wife and two kids) have respectfully requested his absence from the kitchen due to past transgressions: this is a man who thinks that everything tastes better with hot sauce. But on Sunday mornings, we happily cede control of breakfast to him. Because on Sunday mornings Alpha Dog makes French toast—and his bread-egg-milk combo is sublime. Not too eggy, not too dry, nicely crisped. He allots each of us three slices, which we slather with toppings and devour. Then, in full-throttle sugar rush, we carry on with day, thanking the chef for a wonderful meal and officially banishing him from food prep for another week.

French Toast

This recipe will feed four somewhat hungry people (and one dog who likes to beg).

2 cups whole milk
6 eggs
1 tbsp sugar
1 tsp salt
12 slices of at least one-day-old bread (preferably two, and preferably challah), sliced about 3/4” thick

1. Mix the milk, eggs, sugar and salt in a bowl or pie pan. Soak the bread in the mixture until it’s soft (you might have to turn it over). The secret is to make sure that the bread soaks up enough of the mix until it is just shy of soggy (wet, but not too wet so that it’ll fall apart).
2. Cook the coated bread in a well-buttered frying pan at medium-low heat. Be patient. If the heat is too high, it’ll brown the outside before the inside is cooked through. We’re talking 7 to 10 minutes the first side, and 5 minutes the flipped side. This gives you time to set a table with warmed maple syrup, cinnamon sugar, softened butter, orange slices and hot chocolate.
3. When ready, call the kids and eat up.

It’s 5 pm. What’s to eat?

My family is hungry at 5 pm. They don’t care that dinner is technically at 7. At 5, they want food. (Unless I ask them to help prep. Then they make themselves busy trying to save the world, which according to The Boy is possible from his bedroom.)

Here are some snack foods to tide everyone over till the real deal, based what’s usually in our pantry and can be prepared within five minutes. The rules are that it has to taste good and is mostly virtuous.

1. Yogurt, stirred with homemade granola and/or fruit and/or jam
2. A big handful of roasted pistachio nuts still in their shells
3. Cup of whole milk, with chocolate syrup and a titch of almond extract
4. Cheddar cheese slices with Seedy Crackers (how many is based on daily activity, skilled negotiation and whining)
5. Peanut butter or sunflower butter with said crackers (still a negotiation)
6. Mildly curried tuna salad broiled with grated jack cheese served on yup, those crackers (they’re a big hit in our household)
7. Pretty much as many celery sticks as desired
8. Ditto slices of red, orange and yellow peppers
9. Two cups frozen blueberries (they were frozen in 2-cup portions)
10. And the all-time favourite: one slice of cinnamon whole-grain toast with milky tea. Two if you wash the romaine.

What’s on your list?

Emergency Wonton Soup

Of the many advantages to living in Vancouver, one in particular is easy access to Asian food. This came in handy last night, when my bestie’s Other Half showed up with the Alpha Dog* after a 16-hr drive south from the vicinity of Smithers (location: middle of nowhere, BC). The OH is a seriously fanatic fly fisherman. He had driven from his hometown, Portland, Oregon, up to the Smithers area for a week of catch-and-release. It was ultimately not to be: heavy rains caused the river waters to churn, not optimal for pursuit of this manly sport.

The trip wasn’t a total bust; the OH learned how to pluck and dress freshly slaughtered chickens (but that’s another story). The Alpha Dog flew up to Smithers to keep the OH company on the drive down, who had texted that he wanted wonton soup upon arrival. I thought he was kidding. It might have been raining along the Babine River, but down here in civilization it was kinda hot.

I wasn’t taking chances, though, and headed to my neighborhood Chinese bakery-delicatessen to buy two dozen fresh-frozen chicken wonton, no MSG added. I had chicken stock in the freezer, and gone-to-seed dill weed left from making pickles. I was ready.

Sure enough, when the two drove up at 8:30 pm, the OH still wanted wonton soup. I sprung into action, sautéeing celery, carrots and leeks, then adding the stock, and when simmering, the wonton. It was 20 minutes tops, start to finish, which just goes to show: whole food can be fast food. Of course, it does help to live in a town where fresh-frozen wonton, no MSG added, are available in corner stores, and where a house wouldn’t be a home without chicken stock in the freezer.

Emergency Wonton Soup

You can always use store-bought chicken stock for the soup. The mirepoix deepens the flavor. And vegetable stock works just as well, too. 

2 medium carrots, sliced
2 medium celery stalks, sliced
2 medium leeks, sliced, white and light-green parts only
2 quarts chicken stock, homemade or store bought
2 dozen chicken wonton
6 sprigs fresh dill (or one head of dill weed gone to seed)
Sea salt to taste
Coarse pepper to taste

1. Sauté carrots, celery and leeks over medium heat till softened, but not mushy, about 2-3 minutes.
2. Add stock. Bring to boil, then simmer. Add wonton, then simmer another 5 minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste. Then dill. Simmer 2 more minutes, then serve.

*The Hubby

And They Call It Mellow Yellow Patty Pan Ratatouille

Yesterday proved quite the yellow harvest day. In from the yard: 8 pounds (yes, pounds!) of Sun Gold cherry tomatoes; 10 yellow patty pan squash (three imposingly overgrown); 20 lemon cucumbers. We picked other colors, too: red tomatoes, fuchsia beets, burgundy carrots, green filet beans and purple-hued blueberries.

But I only had eyes for yellow, and visions of Patty Pan Ratatouille danced on my taste buds. Confession: my ratatouille doesn’t have eggplant. I don’t like eggplant*, even when it’s called aubergine, as it is in France and Ireland, where years ago I ate some moussaka that was so awful it turned me off eggplant-aubergine forever (I know. Ireland. Serves me right.) But I’ve always had a thing for vegetables stewed together, and Patty Pan Ratatouille is my favorite. Does lack of eggplant disqualify me from calling my ratatouille a ratatouille? Don’t know, don’t care. Patty Pan Ratatouille speaks, er, tastes, for itself.

Patty Pan Ratatouille

You don’t have to use patty pan squash in this recipe; zucchini 4-5” long work just fine, sliced lengthwise (if you use larger zucchini, cut the zucchini in half before slicing lengthwise). And you can substitute  red cherry or grape tomatoes for the yellow ones with no taste penalties.

4-5 small patty pan squash, sliced 1/8” thick (easiest to achieve with a mandolin)
2 leeks, sliced thinly, white and light-green parts only
2 stalks celery, diced
1 cup yellow cherry tomatoes, sliced in half
¼ cup Italian parsley, chopped
¼ cup (or more) olive oil
A light handful of flour
Sea salt to taste
Coarse ground pepper to taste

1. Place the sliced patty pan squash in a colander. Sprinkle lightly with salt. You can leave the squash for a few hours or assemble the dish right away—it’s up to you.
2. When ready, place the patty pan squash in a large bowl. Add the leeks, celery, tomatoes, parsley, flour and olive oil; toss the ingredients together. Don’t be stingy with the olive oil; add enough so that all the patty pan slices are lightly coated. Add sea salt and coarsely ground pepper to taste.
3. Fill a 9 x 12 ceramic cooking dish (mine’s Emile Henry) with the mixture and place in a 425º degree oven. After about 20 minutes, open the oven and using a wooden spoon, mix the ingredients again to ensure even baking.
4. Bake at least another 20 minutes until the ingredients are tender and stewed together. Or do what I do, and bake another 40 minutes to deepen flavors.
5. Serve as a side dish; it goes particularly well with fish. Or stuff it between a baguette, add a layer of fresh chèvre and chow down. Bliss. The next day, this ratatouille tastes great cold, mixed with brown rice or quinoa and topped with a dollop of plain yogurt.

*I still eat my grandma’s eggplant relish.

Time for Chocolate Biscotti

I was going to do a big shopping on Sunday, because I usually do a big shopping on Sunday out of habit. But a glance at the vegetable bin revealed lately dug up carrots and beets (Hazel Blue Beet Salad), freshly picked and still delicate green beans (Green Beans Tossed with Toasted Pecans & Dill), two heads of just pulled romaine lettuce (Buttermilk Caesar Salad), bundles of Swiss chard  (Tarted Up Chard), oodles of summer squash (Patty-Pan Ratatouille) and unbelievably, four lemon cucumbers (a rarity, as this is The Boy’s favorite vegetable, which he usually eats immediately upon picking).

A freezer count revealed 11 salmon (Peppered Wood-Plank Salmon) and a wheel each of cheddar, blue and Gouda Farm House cheese, bought at the actual Farm House during last week’s Agassiz road trip (also purchased: 12 pounds of 12 varieties of hardneck garlic from The Back Porch and 10 pounds of just picked hazelnuts from Canadian Hazelnut).

I then remembered the blueberry bushes in the front and immediately woke up The Boy to demand he pick a pound or two. (Self-defense: it was 10 am, and we did negotiate that he could do it within two hours and that I’d make Blue Cobbler with Cookie Topping.) The Girl texted at this point. She was riding by on her horse and called dibs on the fourth apple from the right on the far left branch of the tree in the middle of the center bed. Uh, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.

Glancing out the kitchen window, I noticed that we still had a few peaches (Peachy Ice Cream) ready to pluck on the back fence espalier. And the tomatoes were ripening so quickly that there were probably enough for gallons of tomato soup (Tomato Soup Worth Freezing). The Italian parsley was beginning to bolt, too, which could only mean one thing: more pesto.

As it turned out, all I really needed was milk. And during the time I saved not shopping, I made Irresistible Chocolate Biscotti—the kind that’s gone after a day due to out-and-out deliciousness.

I’m posting the biscotti recipe now; the other recipes will be featured in the next few posts.

Irresistible Chocolate Biscotti

Please note that the better the chocolate and cocoa powder you use, the more the biscotti will taste like a revelation. This recipe is mostly Dorie Greenspan’s Baking: From My Home to Yours; it’s got a few modifications.

2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder, Dutch process (I use Cacao Barry Extra Brute Cocoa Powder)
2 tbsp instant espresso powder (optional)
¾ tsp baking soda
½ tsp baking powder
1 tsp sea salt
6 tbsp unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup unbleached sugar (you can use the regular stuff, too)
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
¾ tsp vanilla extract
¾ tsp hazelnut extract or ¾ tsp almond extract
1 cup toasted hazelnuts, chopped or 1 cup toasted almonds, chopped
4 oz bittersweet chocolate (I use Cacao Barry Tanzanie Chocolate, which is 75% cocoa and comes in pistoles)

Unbleached coarse sugar for dusting

1. In a bowl, mix the flour, cocoa, espresso powder, baking soda, baking powder and salt until fully blended. (If it’s easier for you, sift it, but the sifter and I have had a tumultuous relationship over the years and we’ve reached an agreement: no cocoa sifting. Ever.)
2. In a mixer, beat the butter and sugar together till pale (according to Dorie, about two minutes, but it’s usually shorter for me). Add the eggs plus vanilla and hazelnut or almond extracts, then beat for another two minutes. The mixture might look curdled. But do not worry.
3. Continue by adding the dry ingredients slowly, and with the mixer speed on low. Mix only until dough forms. DO NOT OVERMIX. Stir in the hazelnuts or almonds and chocolate by hand. Turn the dough out onto the counter and knead in any dry ingredients that may have escaped mixing.
4. Divide the dough in half, rolling each into a 12-inch-long log. Flatten both logs with the palm of your hand so that they are about 1 inch high, 2 inches across and sort of rectangular, then lift the logs onto one baking sheet. Sprinkle each one with a little of the coarse sugar (the bigger the sugar crystal, the nicer it’ll look).
5. Bake the logs at 350º for about 20-25 minutes, or until slightly firm. The logs will spread and crack—they’re supposed to. Remove the baking sheet from the oven and put it on a cooling rack for about 20 minutes, but leave the oven on.
6. After the rest period, use a serrated knife to cut each log into slices between ½ to ¾ inch thick. Stand the slices up on the baking sheet and rebake for 10 minutes.
7. Transfer to a rack to cool. Then eat, preferably with a cuppa tea or coffee.