19. Spring's No Time to Stand Over a Hot Stove (Granville Day!)

Last weekend we took advantage of the sun and hopped a bus to Granville Island. I hadn't been in years, and was looking forward to seeing peculiar art, live music and fresh farmer's market goods. I have to say it delivered, as these artsy communities always do.The only criticism I have is that it was way too packed to take pictures -- luckily, I snapped one of my purchases once I got home.

Peas are already out! And you won't be surprised to learn that I demolished them in my face about 20 seconds after this photo was taken. I picked up some tamarind concentrate from the ethnic store, which I use for pad Thai but I actually like it most in peanut sauce and meat marinades. From the same place I got amchur, or green mango powder, an Indian ingredient I've been curious about for some time. A pinch of it is supposed to kick up curries, roasted vegetables and meat but we'll see if I'm not adding it to smoothies by the end of the week. 

Rounding out the list is a par-baked baguette from one of my favourite bakeries, some local garlic and a duck-and-apricot pate, which certainly sounded right up my alley. 

Dinner that night, as you might expect, was a selection of a few of these items.

I preheated the oven to crisp the baguette and prepared some fruit, cheese and yam fries with garlic-lime mayo (I thought we might need something extra!). I also made a little dish of leftover bacon and chopped boiled egg so that we could make mini breakfast sandwiches. This convinced me that I'm not totally grown up.

I've spent the last few minutes staring at the cursor, trying to come up with a less food-douchey way to describe the pate than "unctuous," but it just fits. Please take down my blog immediately. Oh, and big announcement, guys -- I like cantaloupe. I really like it when it's wrapped in prosciutto, but I'll take it on its own, too. Gee, all of this cured meat talk has reminded me of a certain sketch on a certain sketch tv show. . .

18. Go Forth and Roll (summer rolls)

There's been much talk of favourites around here. I've shown you my favourite Lebanese dish, my preferred fish and the winner of my search for the perfect pound cake (which turned out not to be a pound cake at all). But what's my favourite, hands-down, desert island, last meal before I get strapped to the chair, #1 thing to eat? Summer rolls!

Known also as a Vietnamese salad roll or fresh spring roll ("roll" doesn't even look like a word to me anymore), they're typically stuffed with pork, prawns, lettuce, noodles and herbs and served with a fish sauce-based dipping sauce. I'm not a huge prawn fan and I find the usual fillings and sauce a little bland, so while they're tasty with just about anything you have on hand, here are some of my must-haves:

• Protein. I usually use pork (either roasted then sliced, or sliced and quickly pan-fried with hoisin), but I've had good results with marinated tofu strips, chicken and sauteed prawns.
• Basil and mint. Sometimes I only have one and I always miss the other. If you can only get one, pick basil.
• Crunchy (and preferably sweet) vegetables. This time I used carrot, daikon, green onion, romaine and red pepper, but I also like bean sprouts, cabbage, enoki mushrooms, cucumbers, sliced green beans and snap peas. 
• Vermicelli. Plain rice vermicelli does the trick, but for a little more nutrition and fewer calories check out bean thread or konjac noodles. These cushion the wrapper from the pointier ingredients.
• Of course, rice paper (banh trang). Check the sodium content of the package; I once bought a 900-times-the-daily-intake-of-sodium pack by mistake. They shouldn't taste salty. 
• MANGO! It's just not the same without it. 

Here's our setup. Shredded vegetables, meat, sauce, noodles and a rimmed plate for warm water to soften the wrappers as we go. The sauce on the far right really ties the whole thing together. In a saucepan (or usually just the same pan I cooked the pork in. . . mmm, porky), mix equal parts hoisin sauce and chunky peanut butter on low-medium until smooth. Add sriracha and sesame oil if desired. You'll probably need to thin it with a lot of water.

You can pack a lot of fresh vegetables into these little rolls.

After you dip the wrapper in warm water for 10-15 seconds, lay on the toppings. . . 

 And roll it up like a burrito. For extra points, wrap it so that the prettier ingredients (read: not pork) are visible on the outside.

Dip into hoisin-peanut sauce. Chomp. Lay another wrapper in the plate to soften. Built-in digestion time!

We end up having these every few weeks, which is absurd since they're fresh, delicious, can be made with just about anything and require so little prep since they're assembled at the table. When I'm hungry, it usually takes 8-10 rolls to fill me up. Bonus? When you're starving they don't even have to resemble rolls. Make up a tostada-looking affair and stick it in your face.

Dinner. Done.

17. A Petit Dejeuner (mini shortcut pain au chocolat)

I've always loved pain au chocolat: flaky croissant dough wrapped around bittersweet sticks of chocolate. It pairs brilliantly with espresso on a leisurely morning and since I'm a huge fan of leisurely mornings, I could probably list all the best places to purchase this treat. I like to make things myself, though, and I find the laminating process for the dough too time-intensive and intimidating to attempt, so I found myself a shortcut.

Using the recipe as a guide, I cut premade puff pastry into squares and topped each with a scant teaspoon of raspberry jam and a few dark chocolate chunks. . .

before rolling them up and brushing with an egg (beaten with vanilla), then sprinkling with cinnamon sugar. . . 

It goes into a 400 degree oven for 15-18 minutes (depending on size) and schwing!

Flaky, buttery little snacks almost as good as my beloved pain but not nearly as much work. As delightfully melty as they were warm, I liked them even better the next day when the chocolate re-solidified.

Is there anything puff pastry can't do?

16. Trout en Oui Papa

I've been seafood-crazy lately, and I like it every which way: raw, seared, grilled and everything in between. Though I'd never say no to a spicy tuna roll or a bagel with lox, my absolute favourite is steelhead trout. It's similar to a mild sockeye with a softer (and somehow more moist) texture. As I mentioned before, I prefer oily fish because you don't have to try so hard to coax flavour out of it. A quick steam and a squeeze of lemon, maybe parsley and a pat of butter and you have my ideal meal.

The other day I prepared just that: a fresh fillet of steelhead seasoned with nothing more than a touch of salt, lemon and a tiny pat of butter, wrapped up in parchment paper in a preparation known as en papillote. The parcel of fish came out perfectly steamed and I confirmed that I'm set in my ways when it comes to my favourite fish. 

To cook en papillote: pre-heat oven to 400 degrees. Cut squares of parchment paper or foil. Lay on the fish, followed by whatever seasonings you like (lemon, pepper, lemon pepper) and a dab of butter. Fold parcel tightly and place in oven for about 10 minutes. My fillet was finished at the 15 minute mark, but it was a fat fillet and now I'm fat. 

I also loved one of the sides: couscous. I'm not always the biggest fan of the stuff since it's so bland and I always cook too much of it, but this time I added a hit of bouillon, diced zucchini and red pepper and a handful of corn niblets. 

The next day I topped the leftovers with grilled chicken and had one of the most enjoyable lunches in recent memory. 

Have a safe and happy weekend, and don't ever forget to Papa-Yo:

15. Feast of Burden: Seared Scallops, Twice-Baked Yams, Prosciutto-Wrapped Chicken

Ham. We've all had it, except for vegetarians, Muslims and Jews. I bet even some of them have tasted a slice here and there. But when does ham become so much more than a fatty cut of meat that, when sliced thinly, has a buttery texture and will melt in the mouth? Some might argue that prosciutto, encircling a chunk of cantaloupe or fresh fig, represents the zenith of food pairings, and I'm inclined to agree. Still enjoyable, though, is Prosciutto-Wrapped Chicken: boneless breasts wrapped with another animal and stuffed with the coagulated secretions of yet another. How's that for food writing!

But first: let's talk scallops. I bought Nova Scotia sea scallops, which deserve only the simplest preparation. 

For the fruit salsa: dice half a mango (I only buy the Ataulfo/Champagne variety now), 1/2 cup of pineapple, 1/4 cup of red onion and a sprinkling of whatever chili you like. I used half a green serrano. Mix in lime juice, salt and chili powder to taste and let sit for a while so the flavours meld. 

Scallops: get a pan smoking hot (this was my downfall; I was impatient). Butter, a little oil. Add scallops, sprinkle with salt and cook for 1 1/2 minutes on each side. A sufficiently hot pan should result in a brown crust on either side of the scallop with a hint of translucence in the middle. 

I blended the other half of the mango with pineapple, coconut water and ice to make the above drink. A tasty alcoholic variation might be to add a shot or two of Malibu or Soho lychee liqueur. For the main:

Chicken: stuffed with Jarlsberg, wrapped in Canadian prosciutto and fried in a pan, 3 minutes each side. It is then transferred to a 375 degree oven for 15 minutes. As long as the oven's on, roast zucchini coins and red pepper strips (olive oil, salt, pepper, 25 minutes) and twice-bake your cooked yam. (Split, scoop, mash with butter, cinnamon and brown sugar, re-fill and bake for 20 minutes.) The yams are pure dessert. 

By the way, I ate less than half of my chicken breast. These things must be on major 'roids nowadays; I recommending splitting the breasts in half for more manageable portions. Jarlsberg pairs beautifully with the chicken and the ham keeps it nice and moist, if a little salty. This dinner made me feel sort of posh. 

But it doesn't mean I didn't play with my food. 

14. Just Add Bacon: Tarted-Up Chicken Soup

From my last post you probably gleaned that I (a) loathe celery, and (2) have bacon.

The other day, I roasted a whole chicken (standard, really, and not worth writing about) and made stock (and plenty of sandwiches) with the leftovers. I think of soup as an excuse to eat buttery grilled cheese sandwiches and try to make it often, but this week my challenge was to come up with a cohesive meal from ingredients I had on hand, lest I brave the outdoors and shopping carts and credit cards and people and all sorts of awful stuff. A terrible frozen green bean-canned red bean-broken spaghetti chicken soup floated around in my head until I remembered two complementary ingredients in my fridge: bacon and cabbage.

It's not the first time somebody decided to put the two together, the briny chew of bacon countering the sweet, yielding green cabbage. As these things go, I thought of an even better way to make the soup after I already ladled it out, but as a first attempt it was pretty damn good. Improved recipe below if you'd like to try.

My bastardized version of a mirepoix: onion, carrot and green onion. 

FIRST: Make chicken stock or buy it (unsalted!). I made about 1/3-1/2 of a large pot. I know this isn't helpful, but it's the only way I know how. Heat it to a simmer. If you want the soup to be more substantial, you can add something grainy. I used a fistful of brown rice.

THEN: Slice one onion, two carrots and whatever unshriveled green onion stalks are in the crisper. Garlic's good too. In another pot or pan, heat (butter and) olive oil on medium heat and add veggies. Cook with salt till it smells great and is lightly browned. Add it to the now-heating stock. 

AFTER THAT: Cut 3-4 strips of bacon into a small dice and add it to the empty pot you cooked the onions in. When the bacon's done to your liking (and who doesn't like crispy?), remove to a paper towel-lined receptacle. Discard most of the grease, but definitely leave a little. Add a half-head of shredded green cabbage to the same pot. I recommend cutting it into roughly 1cm X 3cm strips, or else it tends to want to get away from your spoon as you're eating it. Toss that for a while with some salt and whatever seasonings you like (I used cayenne) and add it to the stock. 

FINALLY:  Add about 1.5 cups of shredded chicken and stir to warm. Check for seasoning and make sure everything is done to your liking. Make some grilled cheese, ladle soup into a bowl, sprinkle with reserved bacon, and remember to bring utensils to the table or you will be sorely disappointed. This makes enough for six regular bowls or four big bowls or two absurdly large bowls or one gigantic bowl. 

Bring spoon to mouth. Chew. Swallow. Digest. Don't dip your grilled cheese in ketchup. Are you a child? Okay, I dipped mine in ketchup. 

13. Hold the Pasghetti: Turkey Meatball Sub

To compose a sandwich is a simple proposition; one needs only bread and a filling. With better ingredients--bread, condiments, meat, cheese, vegetables--comes a higher chance of sandwich satisfaction, though one of my humble favourites is salami on a buttered, soft white bun. In my experience, personal preferences come into play more so in the construction of a sandwich than in any other culinary endeavor, so tonight I will share mine:

• The bread should be crisp outside and soft inside, and spread with a light coating of butter or, failing that, a slight swipe of mayo. See above exception.
• It should be pressed or grilled, or the bread should be toasted.
• The condiments should be present, but not ooze out when you squish the sandwich.
• It should have a good filling-to-bread ratio, but shouldn't be so stuffed that you have to unhinge your jaw to take a bite.
• NO CELERY IN MY GODDAMN CHICKEN OR EGG SALAD. The distinct crunch of celery feels like someone sneaked an ice cube down my back. 
• I'M SERIOUS.
• Okay whatever, only assholes are that picky.

Moving on, in honour of the cutest cartoon character ever!:

I made chicken meatballs with a recipe from Gourmet. Of course, I never have pancetta on hand so I used a healthy amount of diced bacon and instead of Italian bread I used a French baguette. Oh yeah, and it's turkey. Verdict?

I know you can't really see the meatball itself under all that rich tomato sauce, sauteed onion and pepper jack cheese, but I assure you it's moist and tomatoey with sweet hints of garlic and salty bits of bacon. The best part is they only take about 35 minutes from start to finish, and that includes the time it takes to almost-caramelize half the onions and puree a few tomatoes into a quick sauce for the sandwich. I'd also like to recommend the meatballs for non-sandwich use, but I'll never know, as the bread blanket has proven to be minced turkey's ideal vehicle. 

Happy sandwiching!

12. Never Met a Mollusk I Didn't Like: Seafood Boil

The plan was to do a seafood boil for the night of my birthday, but that day came and went and I only discovered last week that the market in the quay sells a fresh stock of assorted live seafood. I got a pound each of mussels and clams and got to soaking, scrubbing and debearding the odd creatures:

Bay mussels left, Manila clams right

We also grabbed a loaf of crusty bread and some salad ingredients. I couldn't decide if I wanted to go with a spicy coconut broth or a more traditional cajun style, so I did both!

With sweet corn and Yukon golds over a spicy cajun coconut broth.

Next time I'll add sausage and either spot prawns or dungeness crab for other diners, but I had a ball picking the sweet fatties out of their shells and dunking my bread in the fragrant broth. Surprisingly, all of the mussels survived my debearding (apparently if you pull it out wrong it can decapitate the little guys inside. . . wait, decapitate? Do they even have heads?).

The salad on the side is pears, romaine and mango slices in a honey-lime vinaigrette. Simple, yes, but it opened my eyes to the joy of fresh lime juice on mango.

Hey buddy.

And it didn't take long for everything to be om'nom'ed up.

Fin.