A Toast to Toast

I just read the MOST delightful article the other day, sent to me by a friend who is always on the very tip of The Next Big Thing. She is a delight, and so, by extension, most things she sends my way are delightful. But this latest article she sent really spoke to me.

As most of you know, I participated in that CBC Hopes and Dreams contest seeking to raise money for Shepherds of Good Hope, here in Ottawa (By the way, thank you so much for your donations. If you want to see The LadyGirls in the flesh, we’re at about 12:00 here).  I also work with marginalized women, providing literacy and mentoring to them. I really believe in the power of choice, and I believe that once people who are currently struggling are given the tools to make choices, they will make good ones.

That may be why this article on toast, of all things, really did speak to me. The author does an excellent job of telling the story of a woman who battles her demons every day. While she hasn’t always won the battle, she carries on in a way that is truly admirable. I think I was so moved because I could relate to her experience so deeply. In my work, I never pity the women I support. They inspire me, and I owe it to them that I keep our program fresh, innovative and transformative.

Toast speaks to me because it truly is comfort food- without frills, without complications. It is so honest, it cannot even be called honest. It is simply toasted bread, and it is without pretention, rustic-ness, or irony.

I remember my first hangover, and my saving grace (which I must admit was mostly thanks to Mummy) was toast. I had had three cran-tinis the night before, when I was about 17. I woke up the next day and instantly threw up about six times. It was New Years Day, and we were supposed to have dinner at a friend’s house. My mum came into the bathroom and said, “Do you have the flu? Or more importantly, what did you drink last night?”

There was no recourse; the truth flew out of my mouth faster than last night’s refreshments. She laughed, and now I know it’s because drinking anything called a cran-tini is just begging for a hangover, but at the time I couldn’t fathom what she might find so funny. I went into the basement and buried myself under a blanket, simultaneously swearing I would never drink again and cursing my older boyfriend for allowing me to make such bad choices.

My mum came down and gave me a chocolate milk, (which, as I recollect that moment, still turns my stomach) scrambled eggs, and toast. I looked at her, horrified. Did she ACTUALLY expect me to choke this down? I was certain I wouldn’t be able to eat for days. 

“You must,” she simply said. 

I knew that the particular tone in which she said it was not only a no-nonsense tone, it was the tone of infinite certainty. The option to eat was not there; the only sensible thing to do was to consume everything. Up to this point, I had not yet been “in trouble”, per se, and the threat of it still was looming firmly overhead. I thought that if I did eat everything on the plate, there was a good chance I could probably fly under the radar enough to get through the holiday without true punishment.

So I ate. The chocolate milk may have secretly been poured down the toilet, but I did eat the damn eggs. I also ate the toast, and afterwards, my mother had never been so magical in my eyes. HOW DID SHE KNOW? How did she make it so that I felt just fine after I jammed that toast down my throat? To a seventeen-year-old girl, that was just shy of mysticism.

Now, eleven years later, I realize this breakfast was common sense. But toast still holds a certain reverence for me. I was able to make it through the rest of the day, somewhat functional, thanks to that plain buttered toast. And it wasn’t just hangovers that called for plain, buttered toast. It was for the flu, it was for cold days with soup. It was for midnight snacks, it was for after-school snacks. The accessibility of toast was undeniable. The first meal I ever made myself when I moved out of my mum’s house was peanut butter toast and a Diet Coke.

So today, we celebrate toast. Make yourself toast, without frills. Don’t fuss. Don’t complicate ANYTHING. Just get some really good bread (and if to you that is white Wonderbread, then you just go ahead and get yourself some damn Wonderbread.) I went with Challah bread, but that’s because I’m fancy and vaguely pretentious at my core, and this is all about who you REALLY are.

Cinnamon and sugar in the shot glass. This is the key.

Now, I’m not going to boss you around here, (although that is a trait I possess as well) but I am going to strongly suggest, nay, URGE you, to get thick-sliced bread. Or, better yet, slice your own. (Okay, I know I said you don’t need to get fancy, but you could certainly indulge yourself a little.) This means you will not put your toast in the toaster, unless you have some sort of highly professional toaster. Mine is not, mine is from Wal-Mart, and therefore I toasted my bread in the oven, under the broiler.

I made a Cheese Dream, with sliced tomato and the oldest cheddar money can buy. I also did a peanut butter toast with wildflower honey. Finally, I made the best thing of my childhood- cinnamon sugar toast. Butter, sprinkle of cinnamon, sprinkle of sugar. White sugar. Processed, bitches. The secret to this recipe (and it is a recipe) is that you absolutely must mix the sugar and cinnamon together before you put it on the toast. When I was 15, this seems like an extra dish to wash, and I always skipped it. However, I assure you, this is the secret to this recipe.

The cinnamon-sugar toast gets highlighted in the article about the Trouble Coconut and Coffee Club too. Apparently many mothers on earth know this recipe, (perhaps it’s a pre-requisite) but I was pretty certain my mother, the best mother of all mothers, had invented this recipe. And it is so good. Of course, every single slice of toast was slathered with the Normandy-style butter from PC Black Label. Salted. Do it.

It's making you nostalgic right now, isn't it?

The idea of food, the kitchen table, and gathering around it are important in the work that I do. Each program is incredibly different, and yet we always meet at the kitchen table. I literally sit at four or five different kitchen tables each week, and meet with about twenty different women at those tables. We live very different lives, (and sometimes not very different at all) but we can always come together over a discussion of food. And while the women I know may not have the same wonderful childhood memories as I do from their own kitchen tables, I’m motivated knowing that every time my volunteers and I sit with them to do a résumé, an essay, or homework, we are helping to create new, happy memories at the kitchen table. Maybe it’s time I started serving some toast, too.

Bailey's Blue Cheese Sauce (with a side of Jaded Embitterment)

There are two types of people in this world- people who go out for New Year’s Eve, and people who do not. I am quite firmly the latter. I have attempted to be the former several times, namely last year, when I went to the Lakeshore in Toronto and saw a band. The band, Dwayne Gretzky, was awesome. My company was also amazing. I left at 12:30 and made it home without a DUI. Had it been any other night of the year, it would have been a perfect night.

But of course, it wasn’t any other night of the year. It was New Year’s Eve, so an awesome night isn’t enough. Are you really going to bring in the new year with just an awesome night?! You can’t do that. You fail at life if you do that. Your night has to be super perfect awesome, obviously. Your one true secret love must reveal himself to you, kiss you at midnight, and tell you how all along he knew how truly incredible you are, and in fact he didn’t love that other girl the whole time you’ve been secretly pining for him, because this is actually a teen movie and of course later in the night at 5 a.m. while you eat breakfast together swooning, Simple Minds will come on and then you’ll dance in the diner together much to the dismay of every other broken hearted girl in the diner, who will enviously promise herself that next year, HER night will end as perfectly as yours.

But of course, that will not happen this year. You know what will happen? That guy will show up with his girlfriend to the bar you paid $745,393.00 to get into, you’ll get drunk and cry in a corner at midnight, your text to your back-burner booty call won’t go through because EVERYONE texts their back-burner booty call at approximately 1:34 am when they realize life is not a Richard Curtis movie, and then you won’t be able to find a cab to save your life. If you live in the frigid north like I do, you’ll wait in a diner out of desperation until 5 a.m. surrounded by incredibly intoxicated people, reeking of desperation, until you see some obnoxiously in love couple get up and dance to an 80’s power ballad playing on the radio. At which point you’ll cry again and promise yourself next year will be different.

You know what? It can be. I realize the previous two paragraphs painted a picture of me as an embittered, sad, and lonely spinster, naysaying what could possibly be the most fun night of the year (whilst simultaneously chagrining my grade 10 English teacher with my grammatical errors). But I’m here to present a second option: Staying In. Much loved by crazy cat ladies and jaded 28 year olds alike; the old-fashioned Staying In presents a night of nostalgia-filled board games, drinking champagne that did not cost you half your tuition, and the opportunity to take advantage of that eHarmony free communication weekend, where you can meet other like-minded people who also enjoy staying in on the biggest party night of the year.

If you stay in, perhaps you will invite other human companions over to partake in the rejection of this pressure-cooker of a night, and then you may also want to feed them. If you decide Albert Burneko’s poached lobster tails are not for you (although I urge you to try them at some point), perhaps you’ll opt for the easier, if not cliché, red meat varietal.

Should you happen to go for this, you’ll want to jazz it up a little with something special. Nothing is better with red meat than blue cheese and great red wine. So, here’s a nifty little sauce that you can serve with your meal that will provide some acknowledgment to your guests that this is, in fact, The Most Special Night EVER.

Start with a finely chopped shallot in about a tablespoon of butter in a saucepan. The jury is still out on whether or not to make a roux for this sauce, so I’ll leave it up to you. If you like a thicker sauce, also add a tablespoon of flour to the shallot and butter and stir that around until it gets golden. Now add a splash of sherry and reduce it by half. Add a cup of cream (real cream, don’t chintz and go with milk. The resolution diet starts the next day.) Bring the cream just to a boil and then turn down your heat. Finally, crumble in a cup of blue cheese and whisk until it melts into the cream. Finish with salt, pepper and the juice of one lemon.

Enjoy your evening whatever you do- but if you can’t get a cab at 3:00 a.m., don’t say I didn’t warn you!

Happy 2014!

Coquilles St Jacques

Are you ready for another one of my retro, oldie but goodie recipes? This is another one where there are dozens of variations, so experiment around with it until it's to your own liking, and then you'll have a treasured family recipe of your own! And because it's French, there seems to be a rivalry as to whether the a la Parisienne or the Provencal recipe is superior. I'm not sure which this one leans to, and I try to stay neutral in their culinary squabbles! And further to that, they would be appalled to know that I often serve this as a main with a rice pilaf and asparagus! But in fact, to stay true to the recipe, you would serve it as an appetizer, and in a shell shaped ovenproof dish. Since I've been breaking all the rules my whole life, I'll blaze my own trail here too and serve it as a main. Especially since I can't find my shell shaped dishes.

And this is another one of my recipes where we go in stages. First we are going to poach our scallops in a wine based bouillon. Then sauté our mushrooms and shallot. And then on to the sauce. At that point you would assemble in your shell shaped dishes and broil them for a minute or two just to brown the tops. So it's easy and fast and makes for a wonderful hot appetizer for special dinner parties.

For the bouillon you'll need:
half an onion sliced
1 stalk of sliced celery
1 bay leaf
1/2 a lemon sliced
1 cup of white wine
about 10 or 12 peppercorns
1 pound of scallops, washed and dried, and remove that little muscle on the side of them. Cut them into bite size pieces if you get the jumbo size.

For the rest you'll need:
1/2 cup of butter
1 finely diced shallot
1 pound of sliced mushrooms
2 cloves of minced garlic
1 small sprig of fresh thyme, leaves removed
1/4 cup of flour
a pinch of salt
freshly ground pepper
1 cup of half and half cream
1 cup of grated gruyere cheese
a little splash more of white wine
chopped parsley (which you won't see in this photo since I forgot to get some)
1/2 cup of bread crumbs

Prepare your bouillon and let it come up to the simmer for a few minutes. Add your scallops. If you don't have enough liquid to cover the scallops, add a bit of water to cover. Let them simmer for 10 or 12 minutes until they are white. Remove the scallops and set aside. Strain the liquid through a sieve and reserve. You need 1/2 a cup of it.

Melt all but 2 tablespoons of your butter and add the shallot and let it soften. Add your garlic and let it sauté just for a minute or two and add your mushrooms and thyme. Saute until your mushrooms are golden brown. Take it off the heat and add the flour and stir it around for a minute and add that little splash of wine to deglaze your pan, scraping up all the bits on the pan. Put it back on the heat and whisk in the cream and let it thicken. Whisk in your reserved bouillon (1/2 a cup) and let it come up to the simmer. Remove from the heat and add half of your grated cheese. When it melts, gently fold your scallops in. Season with salt and pepper. Now here is where you would divide the mixture into your shell dishes set out on a cookie sheet. Melt your 2 tablespoons of butter and stir into your breadcrumbs. Sprinkle some of the breadcrumbs onto the top of each dish and then the remainder of your cheese. Put them under the broiler just for a few minutes (watch it like a hawk here!) until the cheese is melted and golden brown. Et Voila! Serve it up and enjoy my friends! This recipe is a dinosaur, just like me, but oh so delicious!

Eggplant Parmigiana

Isn't life funny? Four and a half years ago, I was working as a waitress in a corporate box store restaurant (which shall remain nameless) that "specializes" in kitschy, mostly frozen Italian fare. Their claim to fame was unlimited salad and bread, so you can imagine the kind of clientele that sauntered up to the trough. The place made me viscerally hate pasta and wedding soup, and don't even get me started on chicken parm.

Today, I work in a fine dining independently-owned Italian bistro. It's elegant, modern, and serves many fine wines. We have a chef, and a sous-chef. It's impeccably clean. The only thing they keep in the freezer is homemade gelato. And they don't serve chicken parm.

They do serve melanzane alla parmigiana though (eggplant parm, y'all) and it's one of the most delicious things you could possibly enjoy for $8 (or $12 if you aren't staff). I decided to recreate it at home, with pretty good results. I still recommend you go to Casa and try theirs though - it's a smidge better than mine, and you might run into Dan Aykroyd or Doug Gilmour.

First, the ingredients:
- One large eggplant will feed two people with a little left over
- Italian style breadcrumbs. Make your own with parsley and romano cheese if you want, but you can buy them pre-prepped.
- Two eggs
- Milk
- Buffalo mozzarella. The good stuff. Don't be cheap.
- Tomato sauce. Again, make your own if you're Giada Di Laurentiis but if it's just a Tuesday, buy the jar.
- Olive oil, salt, and pepper.

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees while you slice your eggplant. There are a few ways to structure an eggplant parm, but this is the best one I've encountered: lop off the top and the bum of the eggplant and then slice it lengthwise into very thin sheets. Like, eighth of an inch. Leave the skin, it's fine.

Lay out the slices on a cookie sheet and drizzle with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Roast it in the oven for about fifteen minutes until it starts to turn golden brown. This is a very important step, because eggplant is very bitter and sinewy if it's not cooked through.

When roasted, leave the sheets aside to cool. Slice your buffalo mozz into sticks about a half inch in diameter. Meanwhile, beat two eggs with a quarter cup of milk and pour the bread crumbs into a pan or dish. When your eggplant slices are cool, dip them into the egg mixture and then into the breadcrumbs, thoroughly coating all sides. Place the stick of mozz at the top of the eggplant slice, and then roll it up like a yoga mat around the cheese, tucking the end underneath. Set it into a casserole dish. Repeat it with all the eggplant and cheese until you have a bunch of little roll-ups of eggplant and cheese in your casserole dish.

Spoon some tomato sauce overtop of the rolls. Not too much, or it will make the breadcrumbs soggy. Place into the 400 degree oven for about 20-30 mins or until the cheese is sufficiently melted. If you love cheese, put a little extra mozz on top for the last five minutes in the oven.

Serve the eggplant rollups alongside some green salad and a glass of red wine. Excellent vegetarian winter meal. Hearty and easy!

In the pan, ready to eat! 

Good Karma Shrimp

The beautiful shrimp.

I have had an incredibly wonderful week. Like, of all the 1, 448 weeks I’ve lived, this is surely a Top 10.

There are several reasons for this, but it mostly has to do with the Hopes and Dreams contest I’m in, put on by CBC Radio One’s “All in A Day” show.

Most people in Ottawa know me as an advocate for women’s rights and safety in our community. But when All in A Day offered listeners a chance to tell them about a secret dream, I jumped at it. I told them that I would like to have a cooking show. As you know, the LadyGirls love to write this blog, but I’d love to showcase our recipes on television. Often, many of my blog posts come from the script I narrate to my dog as I prepare dinner (you never get too old to make-believe you’re on TV!)

My entry submission photo, courtesy of LadyGirl Kelly

The best part of this opportunity is that this is all part of CBC Ottawa’s holiday charity drive "Day Of Giving", where they raise money for a local charity, Shepherds of Good Hope. As one of the finalists, I have until midnight on Sunday, November 24th to raise as much money as I can for the Shepherds of Good Hope. CBC’s All in A Day top fundraiser will have their dreams come true- meaning for me, I’ll finally be behind the camera sharing our recipes with people!

What is truly incredible is the amount of support I've received from friends and family in this experience. I am so grateful for all the wonderfully philanthropic people I have in my life.

Shepherds does amazing work in our community. Just the other day, I was talking to a close friend of mine who slept outside for a night to raise money for another organization, and I asked him how it was. He pointed out an important fact- for him, it was just one night. He had a sleeping bag, a tent, and knew that in the morning, he would be eating a catered breakfast. Obviously, that’s not the experience of the city’s homeless. He thought the key to understanding was the concept of, and I agree, hopelessness. Shepherd’s provides Ottawa’s homeless with hope- and the secure knowledge that they have somewhere to go when times get tough. In reading some of their client stories, this was quote was particularly poignant and really resonanted with me:

I clearly think I' a chef already

“Suddenly, it was Christmas Eve.  Martin asked me if I knew what was happening tonight and I shrugged my shoulders.  There in the darkness of the parking lot were burning barrels and I could hear carols being sung by a choir all bundled up for winter chill of the evening.  It was Christmas Eve Mass for the homeless complete with a huge manger scene.  I found my way across the street and stood mesmerized. Someone handed me a cup of hot chocolate and I listened to what the man in the robes was saying about not losing hope.  It was as if he was talking just to me.  I was in this crowd of the poor and the homeless together.  I heard what he said and I believed.”

So many stories start out with people who have lives much like mine or yours. But one thing can happen where it all falls apart. When I reflect on the experience of the clients of Shep’s, I can’t help but think, “That could so easily be me.” It could be any of us. 

Please consider donating to the Hopes and Dreams contest. It’s a win-win: You give, CBC gives. You win with good karma, and the Shepherds of Good Hope really wins. Please click here to make an online donation.

So here’s a lovely recipe for your holiday season.

I made this shrimp as an appetizer for our Thanksgiving meal at my father’s house. It’s taken basically directly from this recipe, and I hardly changed a thing. You need:

•        package of frozen shrimp (ideally with no shells or tails, but if your father was the one to do the grocery shopping, cleaning frozen shrimp shells with your sisters is a fantastic bonding experience)
•         3 tablespoons soy sauce
•        2 tablespoons chili sauce
•        2 teaspoons sesame oil
•       2 teaspoons Chinese rice wine or dry sherry
•       1 teaspoon sugar
•        2 tablespoons olive oil
•       4 cloves garlic, crushed or finely chopped
•        1 pinch freshly-ground black pepper
•       1 scallion, thinly sliced

 Mix all the ingredients, with the exception of the shrimp and the oil together. You can let this sit for as long as you need to. When you’re basically ready to eat (because this comes together quickly) fire up a big pan and get it nice and hot with the oil in it. Toss the shrimp with the sauce in a bowl and put into the hot pan. Sauté until the shrimp is pink, and serve immediately.

Season with love, warmth and hope for a year full of blessings.

Cream of Mushroom Soup

 When I say to you that I have mushrooms growing in my house, I am neither exaggerating nor joking. I legitimately have enough of a leakage problem that some rather ambitious agaricus bisporus have sprouted up near my balcony door.

I am horrified by this. HORRIFIED. What does it say about someone to have mushrooms growing INSIDE their home? Please don’t judge me. I keep a very clean home, really. I know you must have visions now of me living like someone out of Hoarders, just pleading with the counsellors to let me keep just my favourite 27 cats, but it isn’t like that.

I am now waiting for my homebuilder to come and deal with this under the warranty, but in the meantime, being someone who doesn’t let a little fungi get her down, I decided to make a beautiful wild mushroom soup.

(NB: This soup was not crafted from the very mushrooms invading my home. Do not eat wild mushrooms, ever. Especially ones hearty enough to take root in a cement floor. Unless you enjoy visits to the emergency room with potentially lethal consequences.)

Start with some chopped mushrooms, I used cremini. One package of them should be fine. In a big pot, add some finely chopped leeks and sauté in butter until soft. Add a few cloves of sliced garlic and let that get soft. Then deglaze your pan with about a cup of sherry and reduce by half.

Now add your chopped mushrooms, some fresh thyme with the leaves picked, and enough chicken stock to cover the mushrooms. Bring to a boil and then simmer for about 20 minutes, until everything is soft.

Puree the mixture with your hand held blender, and then add a cup of cream. Salt and pepper to taste. Bring up just to the boil again and serve nice and hot. Preferably in a home without poisonous spores filling the air.