Shrimp and Avocado Salad

My mother owned this white denim, L.A. Gear jean jacket in 1989. It was lined with graffiti print fabric on the inside, had L.A. Gear written in pink, carpet-like script on the back, and had blue jewels instead of buttons. It is the jacket that Coachella dreams of. I would do just about anything to get that jacket back and wear again. (If you want to see the jacket, find it here.)

She was basically the Kim Kardashian West of the 80's. There was the jean jacket, and there was this salad. She served this shrimp and avocado salad IN an avocado shell. This was before avocados were A Thing, when avocado toast was just a twinkle in the eye of all of us Millennial toddlers. This was obviously WAY before lattes in avocado shells, and my mum was on the cutting edge of all of this.

Do you remember your parents' dinner parties growing up? The few stolen hours before you got sent outside or to the basement to play, when you always felt more grown up that you usually did? I remember that. I remember how thrilling that day was, the drama of the cleaning, the meal prepping, the extra fun plans to entertain the children after everyone ate.

And my mum's parties were so elegant. The first dinner party I remember was when I was about five. Picture Arizona in 1990, all bleached pine and glass; silk and sequins. We had this dining room set that had peach chairs, which matched the southwest print on the couch, and we had teal accents to make that peach pop. My mum would fold the linen napkins into beautiful fans, which would stand up on the terra cotta plates on our big glass dining room table. I remember thinking that our table looked like a magazine set.

The first course at this dinner party was vichyssoise obviously, because this was Phoenix, and it was 1990, and what else would you serve besides a cold and delicious soup? The second course was this shrimp salad, and it blew my mind. When my mum brought out the plates with the baby shrimp tucked in with the avocado into their little DIY bowls, I was convinced my mother was a Demi-God, that no other homemaker could rival this level of creativity and innovation.

Of course, there was this other woman, and her name was Betty Crocker, and she did know her shit too. But she didn’t matter to a five year old Bailey Reid, only my mum did, and only my mother would think to put the avocado salad IN the avocado shell.

I thought of it again this week, because there was a heat wave and i couldn’t bring myself to turn my oven on. I revamped this recipe only slightly, to make it just a bit more new millennium than 1989, but if you want to go full 80’s, skip the ring and pop this back in the shell. (Or is the shell more 2017 now, and the ring is like, totally 2013? I don’t know. Forever 21 sells the wardrobe for 1995’s 90210 now, so I don’t really know what’s cool anymore.)

Here’s what you need:

• 1 bag baby shrimp, pre cooked, tails off and shelled. To serve 2 people, I would use ¼ of the bag. (Don’t try to update this, some things are just right as they are)
• Avocado (½ per person)
• ¼ cup Greek yogurt (or mayo, if you want the 80’s version)
• ¼ cup diced cucumber
• ¼ cup diced red onion
• Juice of one lemon
• Salt, pepper, and a sprinkle of Old Bay
  
  

All you do is mix your ingredients in a bowl, and then chill. Plate it how you feel… but be warned that popping it back into the shell may result in a love of bleached pine and stucco walls.

Being part of my parents’ dinner parties as a child are some of the best memories I have. But I couldn't tell you what the rest of that particular meal was. I can only remember this super fresh salad on a plate, how delicious it was, and how beautiful my mum looked in that L.A. Gear jacket.

Summer Salad

Inspiration is a funny thing. I think whether you’re a painter, a writer, an architect, a musician, or any of those creative types, you recognize that when inspiration strikes, you’ve got to grab a hold of it.

Cooking is no different. Without question, those chefs you see on Chef’s Table, or Mind of a Chef, or even something as bougie as MasterChef (don’t tell Gordon Ramsey I called MasterChef “bougie”), are artists. You can’t get one Michelin, let alone three Michelin stars, without being a creative genius. But I think that sometimes, as home chefs, we don’t take advantage of inspiration when it strikes because we think, “Well, I’m not Ferran Adrià. I’m not David Chang, or René Redzepi. I’ll just stick to this recipe, because who am I to improve on it?”

I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, because I just read Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic. Yes, yes, cue the eye rolls. Kelly (also known as Sister) had plenty of them when she saw I had taken it out of the library. (Public libraries are an institution. Support yours as much as you can.) But honestly, I enjoyed the read. It wasn’t great literature by any means, Bridget Jones’ Diary probably has more to offer in terms of prose, but it did give me a few great ideas, and it definitely made me feel more confident in trying, and failing, at creative ventures.

Foodie-ism, while an exciting cultural movement I’m proud to be a part of, has placed an inordinate amount of pressure on all of us to produce gourmet food on the regular. This is not a food culture that embraces experimentation, and by extension, failure. Have you been to a potluck lately? Jesus. It’s full of Thai mussels, and roasted figs with burrata, and scallops with whiskey. Long gone are the days of Jell-O salad and tuna casserole. You can’t even have mac and cheese anymore without lobster and béchamel. And honestly, I’m not complaining. If you want to spend $88.00 on scallops for your kid’s soccer barbecue, you do you. YOLO, right? Fuck sustainability. Fuck staying in the black on your bank account. Those other parents always bring gluten-free, ethically-raised, organic, local lamb sausage with homemade kefir yogurt tzatziki. Fuck those Joneses, am I right? You gotta keep up.

So, okay, don’t experiment on kid soccer potluck barbecue day if you’re going to spend half the rent on scallops.

But do experiment.

The kitchen is not meant to be nearly as much pressure as it is for so many people. It bums me out so hard when people say, “I hate cooking.” Food is a blessing! Enjoy it. Making food is meditative. It’s time of your day that you dedicate entirely to the nourishment of your body, and if you’re a particularly lucky person, to the nourishment of your family’s bodies. That’s worth enjoying every minute of, even if chopping garlic is the most annoying thing you can think of. 

In that vein, if you try, if you make things up, you are bound to fail. Failure, in the kitchen, is disappointing, no doubt. I’ve had epic failures in the kitchen before. I’ve had vague failures in the kitchen before- once, when I had the goods to make a cheese sauce, but no pasta beside lasagne bars, I attempted a lime pickle cheese lasagne roll up. They were truly awful. Lime pickle is not meant to be spread amongst pasta and doused with cheese sauce. This is not what lime pickle was made for, and it was not an exciting fusion discovery. It was a failure and it was truly disgusting and I ate as much as I could. I ate the majority of it, because: 1. I do not waste food, and cheese in particular is expensive and 2. Perhaps most importantly, I needed to understand where I failed. What went so wrong? I learned a few lessons by choking down that dinner. These include:

·      When using ingredients you’ve never used before, taste them first

·      Sometimes, tradition works

·      Cheese doesn’t actually make EVERYTHING better

·      Chunks of pickled lime rind are harder to chew than you might imagine

There you have it. A lesson on failure. You can probably find some great Instagram or Pinterest graphics to back up these lessons of failure. You know, something along the lines of, “Your comfort zone ends where discovery begins,” or some such drivel.

On the flipside (and we are getting to the recipe now friends, it’s coming, there is one that goes with this post), sometimes you try something different and it totally fucking works and you convince yourself you belong on some bougie cooking competition show like MasterChef and you are quite certain you are the Queen of your own domain and the next time you go to a potluck you are going to outshine the fuck out of those Joneses. That would be like when I made this delicious summer salad last week.

The inspiration to cook (see, I’m tying this all together, albeit in long form journalism type of way) struck me as I was driving home from the cottage. I’d spent a weekend in various levels of Canadian debauchery, and I was ready to resume a semi-healthy lifestyle when I arrived home. Not until I in fact, ARRIVED home, though. On the way home I stopped at a chip wagon and had a poutine and Pogo. One step at a time, after all.

I was struck by the desire to cook something awesome, but nothing came to mind. As Elizabeth Gilbert insists, however, this is no time to give up. At this point, the answer is to seek inspiration. Nothing inspires me quite like the LCBO Food & Drink magazine, so I started flipping through that. Some of their recipes are pure silliness, like lavender cheesecake and roasted figs with burrata (ha! Okay, totally kidding, obviously I’m making that as soon as the burrata goes on sale around the way) but sometimes they list something that I can make. And I especially love it when I have most of the things they list.

The recipe I was most inspired by was the “Arugula Salad with Lentils, Squash, and Smoked Almonds.” I had most of the things already, so I just needed to fill in a few blanks. This was the best part; I could add my own spin to this delicious salad.

When I first started cooking, I would panic if I didn’t have every ingredient exactly as the recipe called for. But now I take that as an opportunity to make the recipe my own. Same as when I love the idea of a recipe, but I’m not crazy about some of the ingredients (I really hate ham. And ham is ALWAYS in things.) So now if I’m not keen on a flavour, or if I know something will be hard to find, I replace it. You can go two ways when you experiment. You can pick a flavour that’s very close, or you can try something totally different.

At the end of the day, it probably won’t be AWFUL. And more than likely, it will be successful.

So the recipe now:

Theirs:

1 cup (250 mL) French green lentils (Du Puy)
2 tbsp (30 mL) olive oil
3 cups (750 mL) sliced peeled squash pieces, about ¼ inch (5 mm) thick
Salt
Curried Yogurt Dressing (recipe follows)
1 cup (250 mL) chopped radicchio
1 cup (250 mL) hickory smoked salted almonds, coarsely chopped
­⅓ cup (80 mL) dried cherries
4 cups (1 L) baby arugula

Dressing:

Heat 2 tbsp (30 mL) canola oil in a small pot over medium heat. Add 2 tsp (10 mL) grated ginger and 1 tbsp (15 mL) Madras curry paste; sauté for 1 minute or until spices are fragrant. Remove from heat. Let cool. Whisk in 1 tbsp (15 mL) fresh lemon juice and ⅓ cup (80 mL) plain yogurt (ideally 4% MF); season with salt to taste.

Mine:

1 cup (250 mL) green lentils (Du Puy No Name)
2 tbsp (30 mL) olive oil
3 cups (750 mL) sliced peeled squash pieces, about ¼ inch (5 mm) thick
Salt
Curried Yogurt Dressing
1 cup (250 mL) chopped radicchio
1 cup  toasted walnuts
4 cups (1 L) baby arugula

3 tbsp goat cheese (sliced)

Chopped mint (garnish)

Dressing:

Heat 2 tbsp (30 mL) canola oil in a small pot over medium heat. Add 2 tsp (10 mL) grated ginger and 1 tbsp (15 mL) Madras curry paste any curry paste/curry spice/ curry blend of your own making after searching three stores for Madras paste; sauté for 1 minute or until spices are fragrant. Remove from heat. Let cool. Whisk in 1 tbsp (15 mL) fresh lemon lime juice and ⅓ cup (80 mL) plain coconut milk yogurt; season with salt to taste.

The Madras curry paste was a slight disappointment. But I moved on after a second store and decided I could make those flavours up myself. Guess what? It was still delicious. And majorly pretty. And frankly, inspired, if I do say so myself!

Thoughts From A Juice Cleanse

Hello from the other side.

Why did I do a juice fast? I know, only assholes do these things. But I wanted to use the New Year and resolution time to jump start a healthier lifestyle (I know, #basic, but don't fucking judge me okay? I'm trying to better myself). In the last year, I went off the deep end of indulgences. Too much wine, too much beer, too much pasta, and then one day, nothing fit properly. I also felt like shit a lot of the time. I was exhausted from about 2:00pm-5:00pm, I can't sleep through the night, and I got sick this summer and had to cancel my own 30th birthday. So I was ready for something a little different.

But enough about me, back to the fast. 
I was hungry, but not any hungrier than I've been, and I've certainly gone a full day without eating before (usually thanks to my friend, Bombay Sapphire.)

I absolutely had cravings too, things that wouldn't normally tempt me seemed impossibly delicious- like how Burger King selected January 4th as their 2 Can Dine marketing flyer launch date, "coincidentally" coinciding with the same day I couldn't find a parking spot at my gym. But, the cleanse certainly gave me an opportunity to reflect about what I love about food. And, it increased my appreciation of food, in the sense of food being a tangible thing we shop for, prepare, eat, chew, since I was getting plenty of nutrition without food in that sense otherwise.

So yes, I was hungry. And I certainly missed chewing food. But what I missed most was the ritual of eating. Let me describe the scenario for you: 

It's Friday night, 7pm. I've walked the dog, I've had a hot bath, everyone is leaving me alone like I like, and the rest of my night consists of a bottle of wine, a GIANT bowl of pasta, and Netflix. And like, you can't eat until you find the right Netflix show, but you can't start something and then stop it to make food. It's a delicate ballet of food, film, and my couch. It's my absolute favourite Friday night. It does not get better. So while the juice fast was clearly short term (you can't settle in for a cozy night on the couch with a Spirulina-Spinach-Beet juice) it made me wonder how I might indulge these rituals but make better choices. It also caused me to think about what food means culturally. I also binged on several of my favourite food documentaries during the fast, which gives me deeper perspective on food, culture, poverty, and access. 

While my Friday night pasta and wine isn't necessarily a cultural enjoyment, its most important quality is that it is best done alone; it's part of a beautiful ritual I've created to unwind from my week. I think these food rituals begin to shape our perceptions of ourselves. For example, I've read some great books and articles on people who quit drinking, and the thing I most identify with is the re-shaping of oneself when you stop drinking. "I'm the party girl- without vodka, who will I be?" As someone who did tone the drinking for a while, I tried on the Superior Perrier Bitch persona, but that didn't quite fit. And as it turns out, Moderate Mary isn't who I am either. But that's for another day (and possibly a therapist).

My enjoyment of food is a pivotal element of my persona. I love food. Like, I LOVE it. I love going out to eat, I love cooking at home, I love trying new food, I love experimenting to see how to make things more delicious. I've considered being vegetarian or vegan before, or cutting out other things that are bad for you, but ultimately it comes down to having to redefine myself, and that's the hard work. I mean, I think cows are dopey and cute and I feel terrible that they're slaughtered in horrendous ways. But I like the Bailey who orders her steak rare. I want to be a rare steak kind of girl. Just like I want to be a pasta-loving kind of girl. Or the kind of girl that can go to a dinner party and be game for absolutely anything. A vegan Bailey is a new person. Maybe she also volunteers at an animal shelter. Perhaps she really likes snuggling up with a spirulina smoothie on Friday nights. I don't know. But I know that I want to eat baguettes and brie and rosé this summer on a patio. Because that Bailey eats her steak rare. And won't turn on Jessica Jones until the pesto is on the fettuccine and the Rhône is in the glass.

Ultimately, I suppose Moderation Mary is our friend. Healthy-ish, that's what people are doing now, right? As I mentioned, I did the fast because I wanted to jump start healthy eating habits, and I do want to feel better. So in the spirit of being the Rare Steak Bailey, but with a streak of the Spirulina Sally, plant-based meals are the ticket. Indulgence is okay, once and a while. And yes, I do want to feel better, and sleep better, and be well, but I also really want my fucking expensive jeans to fit, and I want to wear sexy underwear without it hacking into the flesh of my hips and making me look like two baguettes are actually stuck to either hip.

Bottom line- how do you LOVE food without becoming a glutton and getting gout? One advantage I have is that I'm actually not too into processed food, and the preparation of food is something I enjoy, so it’s immensely easier for me to wean myself off the sugar and chemical laden food we typically think of as unhealthy. And, as I’ve found in the days since the juice fast, we can still make food taste delicious and have it be healthy(ish). Take for example this meal, courtesy of Tasty, which I played with a little and found something delicious.

My main changes to this recipe were to use brown rice vermicelli instead of regular pasta; I used homemade almond butter instead of peanut butter (because regular peanut butter is basically just hydrogenated oil and sugar), and added a splash of coconut milk with honey instead of brown sugar. You need:

• 1/2 cup almond butter
• 1/4 cup soy sauce
• 1/4 cup rice vinegar
• 1 Tbsp. sesame oil
• 2 Tbsp. Sriracha 
• 1 Tbsp. ginger /minced
• 3 cloves garlic /minced
• ¼ cup coconut milk
• 1 Tbsp. honey
• Vermicelli 
• 1 cup carrots /finely cut into matchsticks 
• 2 cucumbers /shaved using vegetable peeler 
• 1 red bell pepper /thinly sliced into strips
• 1 yellow bell pepper /thinly sliced into strips
• 1/2 cup green onion /sliced
• 1/4 cup cilantro /chopped
• 1/2 avocado
• Crumbled roasted seaweed

This is the easy part. Bring your noodles to a boil. While that happens, mix the first nine ingredients together, either whisked or in your blender. I did mine in my brand new Blendtec and it was awesome. Slice the rest of the ingredients. When the noodles are ready, toss everything together except the avocado and seaweed, then refrigerate for at least an hour. Serve on a bed of greens and garnish with the avocado, seaweed and a drizzle of sesame oil. 

It’s delicious, healthy, gluten-free (if you use gluten free soy) and an excellent option for #MeatlessMonday. And if you participate in Meatless Monday at least, that Saturday Steak is a little easier to enjoy. 

Ceviche

Welcome to the first LadyGirlsTable Quick Cut!

 

Fresh off the buzz of the summer solstice, I have been craving super light meals lately. And although I actually finally have A/C in my new place, I hate turning it on. So a supper that is quick, cheap, and light sounded perfect to me this weekend.

Ceviche is the answer to everything, probably in life. It’s one of those amazing meals that feels really special, but isn’t very hard to prepare. And it’s sooooo pretty- perfect for entertaining. It can easily just be a light appetizer, or you can serve larger portions to make a pescatarian-friendly meal. Add some corn chips/tostadas/tequila, and you’ve got yourself a party!

You’ll need:

·         Light ocean fish, in 1-inch pieces (I used tilapia- super inexpensive and sustainable, but ask your fish monger what the freshest offering is. You definitely want FRESH fish for this)

·         Juice of lemons, limes, other citrus (I used 4 limes, 1 lemon, and 1 grapefruit)

·         Watermelon, cubed (we’re going to be jazzy!)

·         Feta, crumbled (because watermelon and feta are all the rage now)

·         ¼ finely diced red onion

·         1 cubed avocado

·         Chopped cilantro

·         Salt & pepper

·         Radishes and cilantro sprouts for garnish

Start by covering the fish in a bowl with the citrus juice and marinate from 20-40 minutes in the fridge. This “cooks” the fish. Meanwhile, chop your other bits. Drain the majority of the citrus juice from the bowl. Mix all ingredients and season. Plate. Garnish.

Could it be easier? Obviously not. Enjoy! (Also, please excuse the lighting in my little kitchen- fluorescent lights make everything a bit sad.)

 

 

Vegan Tacos

Over the holidays, I went on a bit of a Netflix food documentary binge, which started with renting Fed Up. This is an excellent movie, and I totally recommend it for anyone who is interested in the way we eat, particularly if processed food is something you want to know more about. From there, I ended up watching about six more documentaries, including Vegucated, GMO OMG, and Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead. By the end of it, I was ready to declare a crusade against sugar.

But since it is a new year, and the time is ripe for resolutions, I did start thinking about our relationship with eating animals. I mean, I’m not a full vegan or anything yet, I ate ostrich carpaccio on Friday night, but I do think that we’ve certainly pushed the limits with meat. We’re talking about a society in which bacon is its own cultural touchstone here, people. The excess is now. We’ve put a whole new meaning to “worshipping the flesh”.

I’m not going to give you stats about health and meat-eating, watch one of those documentaries if you want to learn more, and I’m certainly not going to get preachy and post animal torture videos, but I do want to urge you to think about how we consume meat, and at least consider that we are eating an animal. That may or may not have had a nice life, depending on where you bought it, but it was a thing that was once alive, and now you’re eating it. So eat it, it’s cool, but let’s just give it more than a second’s pause to think about what we’re doing.

This is difficult, I get it. I still want to eat meat, and I still want to enjoy it, which after watching all the animal torture videos I did makes me think I may have an attachment disorder, but anyway. But I have decided that eating less meat, and really valuing the meat I do eat, is a step in the right direction. (I may able to separate my meat love from animal torture videos because PETA’s history with women is just so awful.) So in the spirit of less meat, more veg, I made vegan tacos! Yay! They actually turned out pretty fine, so try them and let me know what you think.

Start with some firm tofu, and crumble it. In a hot pan, sauté some onions in oil. Add some cumin, coriander, chilli powder, salt and pepper. I also had some mesquite powder, so I added that. Don’t be shy, because we are seasoning tofu. And, by the way, it will be similar to beef, and it will be nice in that sense, but it isn’t beef, so keep your expectations reasonable, mmmkay?

Great. Now add your tofu, and brown the edges in the pan with the spices and onion. Give it a taste and add more seasoning if you need to. You could just use taco seasoning here, but after watching Fed Up, I’m extremely wary of pre-packaged anything. So making your own taco seasoning is delicious and easy, and far healthier. Good for you! Think about the Insta-hashtags you can use when you post it! #Instahealthy #InstaVegan #InstaSuperior! Add a bit of water to the pan and let it simmer while you get your toppings organized. Obviously you want an avocado in there, plus tomatoes, lettuce, and maybe a jalapeno or two!

Now, the other great part of this is your vegan sour cream! Tacos need sour cream right? Well the healthy bitches over at “Oh She Glows” came up with a cashew sour cream for us to use. This is extremely easy; you just soak raw cashews over night, and then blend with lime juice, apple cider vinegar, and some water. It’s not EXACTLY sour cream, but it is creamy and it is sour, and so there you go. Close enough.

I actually ate this as a taco salad, rather than in shells, but just treat the tofu like beef or chicken, and load up or shells or soft tacos or greens! Bonus- without a shell, it’s gluten-free too!