Summertime is salad-for-dinner time. Am I right?
So what do you do when, 2 weeks after summer solstice, the sun has appeared for a total of 3 1/2 hours, and dinner on the deck means long pants and long sleeves?
I figured if I had to wear a sweater, then the salad probably needed a warm-up too. And as I found out, cashmere isn’t the only goat product with excellent thermal properties.
My intention was celebratory shot glasses made from meringue. The final result was more like clay pots. I kinda dig them though — and as a strawberry coulis delivery device, they performed brilliantly.
My last little sweet bite — Lemon Drops — were 1 perfect bite. These guys are a little bigger, so it’s more of a 2 bite scenario. But the potential for mess is small, as the chilled coulis is thick enough to hold in the curve of the pot while you finish that first sweet mouthful…
Salicornia Virginica is a small, salt tolerant plant that thrives across the shorelines, wetlands and salt marshes of North America. Known by a number of names –including samphire, pickleweed and sea asparagus — this nutrient-rich green vegetable adds a not-too-salty crunch when served cold in sushi, or hot alongside a grilled steak.
Plus, if you know where to find it, it’s free. Shazzaam! Take that global marketplace.
Sometimes you just want a squeeze of lemon and a spoonful of oil to lightly dress a salad. At other times, you need a more substantial, flavour packed multi-purpose vinaigrette/dressing/dip — as you can see, this tasty concoction falls into the latter category.
Cheater (no yolks, no cooking — i.e. fast) homemade ice cream with intense, tangy citrus flavour.
My kinda summertime treat.
Baba Ghanoush. Fun to say, difficult to make look pretty. Food this colour is generally not a good idea.
But even the most aesthetically demanding foodies I know make an exception for Baba — it`s just too smoky, creamy and delicious to pass up.
We had it out on the deck last night with some flatbread and beef short ribs fresh off the charcoal grill. The sun may be acting a little shy lately, but I am determined to usher in summer, post-haste. Enough with this inside living stuff…
Lookie here! I deep fried myself (and Howard) some leftovers, and they sure were tasty.
“Deep fried leftovers? How do I get me some of those?” you ask.
Well, first, go off and make yourself a full recipe of Black & White Quinoa Risotto. Enjoy a big bowlful. Isn’t it good? Don’t eat it all though. It’s even better deep fried…
These are easy, quick to assemble,vegan and sugar free — yet they`re flaky, sweet and (just) gooey enough to satisfy everyone.
Think McDonald`s Apple Pie — ONLY MADE WITH REAL FOOD. Read the rest of this entry »
How many of us knew anything about quinoa 5 or 10 years ago? (Don’t answer that if you’re native to the Andes mountains.)
Nowadays, it’s hard to find anyone who hasn’t at least heard of it. I don’t have a lot to say about it that you can’t read somewhere else. It’s the perfect food, contains all the essential amino acids, is an excellent source of protein, is not a grain, but rather a plant seed, and therefore gluten free. Oh yeah, one last thing: quinoa comes in white, red and black.
Sometimes, it’s just good to get the dry stuff over with.
You may remember back in February when I happened across a bounty of organic Meyer lemons, sweet limes and tangerines — not an everyday find in our little island’s grocery store – giggling with glee, I picked through the pile, sliced & packed them with salt, and stuffed them into jars.
Six weeks later, we had our first taste of my salt-cured citrus. Since then, we’ve minced the intensely flavoured peel into almost every meal.
It took me until last week to find the sweet side of salt preservation – too long, I know — but life isn’t about regrets. And besides, who can bemoan the final result? From an unexpected treasure trove of lemons, we have a pot of sweet (and slightly salty) liquid gold. Read the rest of this entry »
Classic bisques are thickened with rice, but all of my culinary instructors used roux to thicken their bisques. Rice, no matter how finely you puree it, will always be grainy.
A roux is a combination of equal parts, by weight, of flour and fat that are cooked together to form a paste. The cooking eliminates the raw flour taste, and the fat-coated starch particles are prevented from congregating together in lumps when added to liquid — making roux the front runner to thicken anything you want smooth and creamy — like a bisque.
This recipe draws upon techniques I learned at not 1, not 2, but 3 professional culinary schools. That’s 6 1/2 months of instruction from professional chefs, bakers and pastry chefs — nine hundred and thirty-eight hours of training to be exact.
Better not dwell on that though. Howard will inevitably begin to add up the tuition in his head — which would normally be ok on its own, but as you’re about to see, this recipe contains 7 egg yolks, almost a cup of butter, and a whole lot of sugar.
After the number of these little cutie pies we scarfed back, it’s best not to put any more stress on his heart.
Seasonal, sustainable, local, foraged, a fridge cleaner — and a freakin’ amazing dinner, if I do say so myself.
Our first Spot Prawn Saturday of the season came together nicely — I was excited to find yellow peppers grown here in BC — then there was Washington State Asparagus, Watercress & Cilantro from Vancouver Island, BC Hothouse Tomatoes and Medicine Beach Market Sourdough Rolls.
The stars of the meal were the Fresh (caught mere hours earlier) Ouzo Steamed BC Spot Prawns – sweet, meaty & HUGE. But where there’s seafood there should always be a dip, so I made this Yellow Pepper Romesco to act accordingly.
Trap caught BC Spot Prawns have gained a lot of fame here at home in the past few years — they’re some of the biggest, juiciest sweetest shrimps in the world, AND they’re sustainable, local and (relatively) affordable.
I fear, however, that things may be about to change. Read the rest of this entry »
Tangy, tasty, sweet & sticky, finger licking finger food.
The only thing that could make these better is the barbecue. The weather is right — and I’ve just heaved the Weber from its winter home in the basement up onto the deck — I wonder if I can get a bag of briquettes home on my scooter…
I don’t know where I’ve been lately, but I totally blanked on the fact that yesterday was Cinco de Mayo. If I had been with it, I would’ve posted this quick and easy burger in time for you to have it while celebrating the Mexican Army’s victory over the French in 1862.
Then I ask myself why I, a Canadian, am worried about missing what is really just a regional celebration in the Mexican state of Puebla? When did it get so BIG?
I don’t know, but I suspect it all started with NAFTA. Nothing good came out of that nightmare.
I am slightly stunned (but very happy) to announce my new monthly column in Pender’s Avid Magazine — I’m published!
My first Wild Food article appears in the May issue — in Island mailboxes today & also viewable online — please check it out and read the full story on the incredible, edible dandelion.
We’ve all got them in our yards — we may as well put them to good use. Read the rest of this entry »
No, we’re not on bread and water rations for Sunday Lunch here at Island Vittles.
That said, if I was restricted to bread only, I would choose this flatbread as my mainstay. Do you think they`d let me have a little dip to go with it?
No, probably not. Read the rest of this entry »
Exotic & luxurious sounding, but quick and easy to cook — any night of the week. Served with a mixed rice pilaf and a small side salad, we were feasting on rich, moist (but not oily) salmon in under an hour…
“Frikadeller?” you say.
“Danish meatballs, fried in lots of oil. Always make extra — they’re awesome cold.” I respond.
Howard wants me to let everyone out there know that I’m the one calling this Biltong — NOT HIM.
We may have followed — (to a T) — the hundreds years old recipe dictated to him by a Boer grandmother during his time in South Africa in the late 80′s, but because I subjected the marinated beef to 90 minutes of smoke in our smoker/dehydrator it was NO LONGER AUTHENTIC.
Now that the necessary disclaimer is out of the way, I assume it’s safe to continue.
We’ve been traveling around (foodwise) quite a bit recently: to China for Jade Chicken, to Spain for some tasty condiments in Romesco and Picada, to Japan for Yakitori, to North Africa for some flavour-packed Preserved Citrus,and to Ireland for an Iced Irish Coffee.
Today I give you a tasty little vegetarian snack from the Indian sub-continent. The sun is shining; crack open a beer and join me on the deck. I made enough to share… Read the rest of this entry »
Very few people will refuse a piece of cheesecake. I have found this to be a universal truth — except when it’s not — like last week, when I hosted my first ever CHEESECAKE GIVEAWAY.
The long and short of it is that no one showed up. And it was almost time for me to go home for the day — and I couldn’t take it with me. No, no, no. Howard and I had quite enough of this indulgent full-fat homemade mascarpone cheese filling, rum, ladyfinger crumb crust and coffee (espresso) extract glaze.
Next time, I won’t require the winner to tell me that “Island Vittles Rocks!” I guess I found the limit of what Penderites will do for a free piece of cheesecake.
These Seared Lamb Lettuce Rolls got their start when I dug out the old photo album that I used to keep my favourite recipes in (BEFORE the internet, for you kids out there).
I found what I was looking for: a recipe from The Vancouver Sun, 1998. Garbanzo and Potato Stew with Romesco Sauce and Picada. I only made it once, but I still remember the blandness of the stew. So why did I keep it? Read the rest of this entry »
We`ve made mayonnaise around here before — stinging nettle mayo. But in my excitement to share the wonderful world of foraged nettles with all of you, I skipped over the basic hows and whys of mayonnaise — this is how we learned to make it in culinary school. Read the rest of this entry »
What do you do when you have a litre of whipping cream sitting around with nothing to do?
Grab a lemon and make mascarpone cheese, of course…
Spring is here; summer`s coming. Get ready for an international street meat extravaganza here on IV!
There are a couple of reasons I am starting in Japan with Yakitori:
When I first googled maple blossom recipes a couple of weeks ago, I found slim pickings — a couple of uninspired salads — until page 3 — where I found Danish Schnapps Recipes.
We had this smooth-yet-zesty cold noodle salad with some grilled beef and Maple Blossom-Mint Pesto the other night for dinner. There’s nothing like a sunny spring day to make you forget winter and its soups and stews and charge headlong into warm weather and lighter fare.
I like wild food. Collecting nettles, kelp, and most recently, maple blossoms, is now a daily routine. Working with these foraged treasures to create “Wow, that’s good! Is there any more of that?” Food is a passion that has taken firm root.
It’s especially easy to get passionate about something you can reach from your front deck. If only I had known they were edible before now.
These are the Dooze’s new favourite treats — you see, he’s a bit of a cheese nut. Read the rest of this entry »
Have you ever had deep fried spinach? It’s really good.
Have you ever had deep fried nettles? They’re even better.
We had a little of both for dinner — my latest attempt to recreate a favourite dish from my childhood: Jade Chicken from Vong’s Kitchen on Fraser Street in Vancouver. I think I got it this time. Read the rest of this entry »
Two out of four of the ingredients in this salad were foraged at Mile Zero — on the deck just outside our front door. But we don`t grow a lot of citrus in the Pacific Northwest, and while I have grown fennel (on our deck even!), I haven`t done it in March.
Which leaves the sorrel (sorry) and the maple blossoms.
Some may celebrate with a green macaroon or cupcake, but ’round here, we pull out the whiskey on St. Paddy’s Day.
Join us won’t you?
Ice cream is basically just a frozen custard. Once you know how to make the custard, you can flavour it anyway your inspiration takes you. This is The Lesson as taught to me by Chef P.
So let it be written. So let it be done.
I found this little gem a couple of weekends ago while channel surfing. PBS came through with an old Julia Child: Lessons with Master Chefs episode. I was actually about to move on, because it was a super complicated Viennese Cardinal Slice — not exactly my thing (to make — I’d eat it, but make it? No. Never). But then the Chef, Markus Farbinger, said something about making coffee extract. Julia was intrigued, I was intrigued. I hit record on the PVR and sat back to learn something new.
Here’s another from my Dad’s stable of staples. We actually called them potato pancakes at home; latkes is an affectation I developed later in life. (It also made for a better sounding title). Read the rest of this entry »
My culinary school instructor, Chef P, used the following ratio to create his crème fraiche: 2 tablespoons-1/3 cup buttermilk for every 1 cup of whipping cream. I can still hear him muttering “Sour cream? What is this sour cream?” in his heavy french accent as he mixed together the cream and buttermilk.
Combine in a glass jar or bowl, cover, and let stand at room temperature for 24-36 hours, until thickened. Keep in the fridge for up to 10 days.
I’ve found that 3 tablespoons of buttermilk in 1 cup of whipping cream yields a thick, luscious, tangy cream perfect on top of berries, whipped into buttercream icing, or spiked with dill & lemon and served with potato pancakes.
I was going to make a joke about the fine looking cock in the photo above, but I think I’ll skip the silliness today and get right to the point: Read the rest of this entry »
Howard likes a good Chicken Orange. It’s a dish his Mum made for special occasions through his childhood. Most of us have at least one special dish that we grew up with. My favourite was Fondue Bourguignonne (hot oil) — a total pain to assemble, “Too many sauces, dishes and forks,” my Mom used to say when I asked for Fondue for my dinner birthday.
It looks like I spoke too soon with regards to cold oil french fries. After trying the method once with russets, I rejoiced to the world about HOW EASY this recipe is, and pushed aside claims from Cooks Illustrated that yukon gold potatoes yielded far superior results. Read the rest of this entry »
Tomato Sauce is one of the 5 Basic, or Mother, Sauces as classified by Escoffier.
A good tomato sauce is thick, rich and full of flavour. This recipe fulfills all 3 criteria in just over 30 minutes – contrary to what you may have been told, you don’t have to simmer a tomato sauce for 3 hours to get maximum taste.
(I know. I was surprised too.)
I didn’t like ricotta cheese until I started making it myself. That stuff in the tubs? I object to being robbed blind at the cash register for a container of dry, gritty, grainy, tasteless mush.
(I know — Don’t hold back, Theresa. Let us know how you really feel.)
On that note, I’ll tell you that I absolutely love my homemade ricotta cheese. Soft, fresh, creamy and adaptable — use it in lasagne, filled pastas, salads, desserts, pastries…
If Stephen Harper can shut down Canadian parliament for 2 months, then I can have dessert for lunch.
Hopefully I haven’t completely bored you with Nettle Month yet. I slid this one in without mentioning nettles in the title — I knew it would cause a few groans and eye rolls out there (“Enough already!”)– kill me for playing the avoidance card.
For those of you still with me, I used the leftover Nettle Pesto I made the other night — and it was THE BEST USE OF NETTLES I’ve ever eaten. No kidding. If you’re skeptical about the culinary value of nettles, I urge you to start on the path to nettle love with this tart. Read the rest of this entry »
My culinary skills instructor, Chef P., was the son of a Parisian bakery owner — multiple bakeries, actually. He told us stories of working in the bakery as a child — how the master bakers stood outside the back door, cigarettes in hand, feeling the early morning air before returning inside to mix the day’s bread doughs according to the current temperature and humidity.
Simple goodness. A squeeze of lime, a splash of soya sauce, a few drops of sesame oil. Everything else is exactly as you see it.
We had it with a rich, yummy quiche.
Did I mention that February is Nettle Month here on IV? I’m happier than a pig in sh** — for real. What? You should see all of the deer pellets near my nettle patch… Read the rest of this entry »
I get excited about nettles. I have a little patch, on the other side of our back fence, that I have been cultivating for the past few years. It’s far enough from my garden so that I don’t have to worry about weed containment, and far enough off the dog walker’s path to avoid contamination, if you know what I mean. Read the rest of this entry »
Before you even start with the “I don’t like eggplant,” please — just stop.
I’ve heard it before. And after I convince you to try it — “It’s fried,” I’ll say — you’ll have to eat your words, so to speak.
I have yet to meet someone I couldn’t convert to eggplant with this sandwich. Even Howard. It’s that good. Read the rest of this entry »
These are the easiest fries you’ve ever made at home. Three (or four) ingredients, 25 minutes and you’re done — done with frozen fries, oven fries, big-hassle/pre-blanched fries and any other homemade fries you can think of.
These are the tastiest fries you’ve ever made at home. But I know you won’t believe me until you’ve made them yourself, so do both of us a favour and go make a batch right now. Don’t be surprised if you find yourself asking: Read the rest of this entry »
Along with sushi, agedashi tofu and chicken yakitori, this tasty sesame spinach salad is always on our order when we go out for Japanese in the big city. It took 2 attempts, but I finally got the dressing right. Read the rest of this entry »
Garbage in, garbage out — in some cases, it works. Kraft Dinner, Hot Rods and Sapporo Ichiban Ramen are all examples of trashy foods that I enjoy in the weaker moments. (Shocked? No, I didn’t think so.)
Garbage in is not an option when you’re talking about consomme, though, so before we go any further, you should know that packaged stock isn’t going to cut it here. It has to be strong, rich, homemade stock, or nothing at all.
PLEASE. Do not mistake this for a casserole — you would be very, very wrong. Although loosely based on a secondhand account of an LA Times recipe for a Chile Relleno Casserole from 1990, this little beauty here is to be referred to as a strata. Layers of cheesy, chile goodness baked in the oven… Read the rest of this entry »
Organic Meyer lemons, sweet limes and tangerines all in our little island grocery store, and all at once! The universe was sending me a message, and it’s going to help me find a use for some of those cute jars I bought in a homemade gift container panic at London Drugs before Christmas.
And if you’re going to preserve some citrus, why not push a few boundaries and go exotic?
Preserved tangerines are not as common as lemons and limes. For that reason I’m the most curious and excited to discover what they’ll taste like. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ambivalent about the Meyer lemons with juniper or the sweet limes with bay leaf & peppercorns by any means! I will be doing a lot of preserved citrus experimenting in the next few months… Read the rest of this entry »
Remember when I made 75 veggie sliders in 3 days? Remember how the 25 I made on day 3 went to waste Howard because the only snow we’ve had all winter came 45 minutes before the start of our Book Club’s December Potluck, making our little island’s roads impassable? NO?
I’m gonna tell you what I did and how I did it, but you should know up front: I won’t do it that way again. Read the rest of this entry »
I first had the idea for raclette grilled in radicchio cups for a Sunday Lunch, and just did it on the fly, using the leftovers we had. It was tasty, cheesy and melty in an opposite-to-Taco Bell kinda way — my first raclette experience, and I was game for more… Read the rest of this entry »
Is there anything better than cornbread, warm from the oven and slathered in butter?
Is there anything more disappointing than day old, nay, 6 hour old, cornbread that’s dry in your mouth even though it’s slathered in butter?
How can something that is so good the first time around be so dry and unpalatable mere hours later?
Is it possible to extend the life of cornbread? I don’t need a lot — just an extra day to finish off the other half of the loaf. (I realize that for those of you with larger families, finishing off a single loaf of cornbread isn’t really a stretch. But for those of us cooking for 2, leftovers are a daily reality — it’s not worth the hassle to split a 1 egg recipe in half.) Read the rest of this entry »
My Dad and I first made baked beans together when I was about 12 or 13. I think he probably saw the Frugal Gourmet demonstrate Boston Baked Beans on PBS (the only channel to have food shows as regular programming in the early 80′s) and developed a hankering to try some for himself.
The first go was with the recipe as read directly off the package of navy beans. But my Dad was a tweaker… Read the rest of this entry »
So I’m now pretty sure that some of you out there think I’m just a little off my rocker after this post…but I live on the west coast — actually, an island off the west coast — doesn’t that give me license for a little eccentricity to begin with?
Anyway — some of you already think I’m a little batty. Now I’m about to tell you about how I used some leftover glace de viande to turn a middle-eastern cracker recipe into the tastiest dog treats around. (I know — I snacked on a couple hot out of the oven.) I understand that this is only going to make the bad impression worse — trust me, I’ve lived in a small community for 7 years — I know what happens when the rumours start… Read the rest of this entry »
Caesar salad has nothing to do with Julius Caesar, Italy, or, for that matter, Europe at large. There are a number of different stories about its “invention,” almost all of which take place in California. Its first recorded appearance is on a LA restaurant menu from 1946.
Which is why I was a bit surprised to see it on our French Culinary School curriculum, Week 1. But by the time we were back at our desks, chomping on the most substantial food we had made as of yet, I had made a few key discoveries related to Caesar salad:
Warning: this method may upset some sauce purists. But this is the way I learned it, and a subsequent taste testing with a classically prepared version decided what I thought instinctively when I saw the classic method as laid out by the master, Escoffier: Read the rest of this entry »
This post is all about giving credit to a new online friend from Japan. Robert-Gilles at Shizuoka Gourmet is originally from France, but has been living in Shizuoka, Japan for 30 years. He has some real insight into Japanese food, especially from a western perspective, and goes to great lengths to describe even the most esoteric of Japanese dishes. Read the rest of this entry »
So after that big discussion over beef vs veal bones for stock, for me it all comes down to one simple truth. There are no veal bones — free-range or not — available on this Island.
I guess that means I’m going with beef.
May Chef P forgive me…
We’ve used the same veggie burger recipe around here for years. When I say we’ve, I actually mean I’ve, because although Howard is happy to grate cheese for nachos, or nuke the peas for dinner (gasp — it’s true), it is unlikely that he will ever assemble any recipe comprised solely of vegetables and grains, never mind a momentous undertaking like the making of GOOD homemade veggie burgers…
I made this soup for the first time a few days ago, after I came home from a particularly wet early morning walk with Koda. It started, as many of my dishes do, as a classic — french onion soup.
After a quick check of the pantry and fridge, I began the adaptations ( I dislike the word substitutions — it sounds more reactive than proactive…) No beef/veal stock on hand, but I did have a lovely homemade brown chicken stock. Also missing was some white bread and melting cheese — instead, the only cheese in the house was a soft blue, and the only bread a dense, European-style rye — ideas were already froming when I noticed the fennel — plan complete.
man food
Before we begin, I must confess that this is really more a method than a recipe. You’ll find I do that sometimes…
These are really, really tasty — meaty, low-fat, (pretty high in salt), protein-rich snacks that dedicated carnivores grudgingly admit are “pretty good.” I started making them at the market after a co-worker told me about the tofu snacks she made at a previous job. I made a soya sauce-based marinade that was similar to many I have made throughout my life to flavour meats, jerky and stir-fries. I made a few changes to the recipe:
Another realistic, food-oriented resolution to start off 2010 — and what better to follow Eat Breakfast Everyday than Take Lunch to Work?
I’m not talking about everyday — I’m just not that absolute of a person. What fun is life if you don’t indulge in some fast pseudo-food once in awhile? But it’s totally doable to take your lunch 2 or 3 days a week, right? Save money, eat real food, and most likely lose a little weight, or at least slow down the clogging of your arteries. Read the rest of this entry »
In the past, I have eschewed red lentil soup, primarily because of the grittiness of the final product. Red lentils break down, but not all the way. And then there’s yam soup — smooth and silky — a little too silky, and sweet, if you ask me. It while I was making soup at work that the light bulb went off. Surely a combination of the two would result in a perfectly balanced soup?
The resulting thick, silky-smooth soup was exactly the texture I’ve been wanting. The spices add a warm, comforting earthiness without . Enjoy — take the leftovers to work – and as always, please use the comments to let me know what you think.
Spiced Red Lentil Soup
Yield: 8 servings
| Leek, medium dice | 1 C | 150 g |
| Celery, med dice | ½ C | 75 g |
| Carrot, med dice | ½ C | 75 g |
| Yam, med dice | 3/4 C | 125 g |
| Olive Oil | 1 T | 12 g |
| Sunflower Oil | 1 T | 12 g |
| Garlic, minced | 1 clove | |
| Red Lentils | 1 C | 220 g |
| Cumin | 1 t | |
| Coriander | 1 t | |
| Paprika, smoked or sweet | ½ t | |
| Cayenne Pepper | ¼ t | |
| Turmeric | ¼ t | |
| Cinnamon | ¼ t | |
| Bay Leaves | 2 | |
| Vegetable Stock | 6 C | 1.5 L |
| S+P | TT |
C=Cup t=teaspoon L=litre
T=Tablespoon TT=to taste g=grams
In a medium saucepan, heat the oils over medium heat until shimmering. Sweat the leek, celery, carrot and yam until translucent, about 5 min. Add the garlic, lentils, spices, bay leaves and s+p. Cook, stirring constantly, until fragrant, 1 to 2 minutes.
Add vegetable stock, increase heat to med-high, and bring to the boil. Reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, for 20-25 minutes, or until the vegetables are soft and the lentils are breaking apart.
Remove from the heat, remove the bay leaves and use an immersion blender to puree until smooth. Or, process (in batches) in a food processor. Reheat gently, season with s+p, garnish and serve.
Tips:
In our house, cereal is a snack — sometimes, but not always, consumed in the early morning. And ever since I came across the original recipe in Cook’s Illustrated, this has been our house cereal. The nuts and dried fruit may change, but the crunchy, sweet-earthiness is constant. It has replaced the store-bought cereals that we used to buy, but now avoid — due to the insane price and questionable additives.
Try this recipe. I always double it, otherwise, I would be making it weekly. My use of Sucanat is relatively new — it began in an effort to make the recipe vegan, and resulted in a superior, not-so-sweet granola. If you take this recipe as a framework, then change things up within it, you’ll always have a tasty start (or end) to the day. And yes, granola is a perfectly acceptable ice-cream topping, thank you very much.
into the oven she goes
Best-Ever Granola Recipe
(adapted from Cook’s Illustrated)
| Pecan Pieces | 1 C | 160 g |
| Rolled Oats | 3 C | 300 g |
| Unsweetened Shredded Coconut | ½ C | 50 g |
| Blanched Slivered Almonds | ½ C | 50 g |
| Sesame Seeds | ¼ C | 40 g |
| Sunflower or Pumpkin Seeds | ¼ C | 40 g |
| Maple Syrup | ¼ C | 65 g |
| Sucanat | ¼ C | 40 g |
| Sunflower Oil | 1/3 C | 65 g |
| Dried Fruit (cranberries, blueberries, apricot pieces, raisins, etc.) | 1 C | 150 g |
C=cup g=gram
**Tips
leaving the turkey behind
Aged cheddar cheese, oven roasted tomatoes and red onion with roasted jalapeno mayo and s&p on Medicine Beach Market’s organic sourdough multi-grain. Nuked in the microwave for 45 sec at 75% power to start the cheese melting. Fried with unsalted butter in my beloved cast-iron pan. Served with (of course) a kosher dill.
my secret stash
Don’t tell Howard – I managed to stash these away in the back of the fridge the last time I made a batch of oven roasted tomatoes…I covered them with an olive/safflower oil mix, and layered some thyme branches in as well. Despite my repeated pleadings that these “are an ingredient, not a snack,” I hold little hope that they’ll last much beyond the new year — your best wishes are appreciated.
I always start with the best of intentions, and usually, an under-estimation of the amount of time the task that I’m about to start will take. This year I decided to make saltwater taffy as hostess gifts. In my defense, I had no idea that everyone on Pender would be in such a celebratory mood this year! We have been to 8 holiday parties in the past 11 days. Thanks for the invites all, but let`s get serious.
Needless to say, that is a lot of saltwater taffy — and I didn’t even come close to making enough. I managed a 3 batches though, which we’ll be taking with us when we go to visit family and friends on the mainland.
This stuff is hard work – I pulled each batch for about 10 minutes — it was real workout for the last half, as the candy cooled. It was during this point in the 2nd batch that I knew my arms didn’t have the stamina to make enough to fill the 10 jars I had bought. What had I been thinking? What was I going to do instead?
rich shades become pastels
It all worked out in the end — booze makes a perfectly acceptable hostess gift, I do have some candy to give away, and my rotator cuffs survived to knead, pull or roll another day.
getting to the end of my ropes
Saltwater Taffy
Yield: 50 – 1” pieces
| Sugar | 500 ml (2 C) |
| Cornstarch | 30 ml (2 T) |
| Light Corn Syrup | 250 ml (1 C) |
| Water | 180 ml (¾ C) |
| Glycerin (optional) | 10 ml (2 t) |
| Butter | 30 ml (2 T) |
| Salt | 5 ml (1 t) |
| Vanilla, Mint, Lemon, etc. extract | 5 ml (1 t) |
| Food Colouring (optional) | 3+ drops |
C=cup T=tablespoon
t=teaspoon TT=to taste
In a 3 or 4 litre/quart saucepan, mix the sugar and cornstarch. Add the next 5 ingredients, and stir gently over medium-high heat. Once the mixture begins to boil, stop mixing and do not mix again. Use a pastry brush wetted with warm water to wash any sugar crystals from the sides of the pan.
Continue to cook, undisturbed, until the mixture reaches 270˚F on a candy thermometer. This is known as the soft crack stage. Remove the pan from the heat and gently stir in the flavouring and colouring.
Pour the molten candy onto a greased baking pan (with sides) sitting on a cooling rack. Allow the candy to cool until you can comfortably handle it with greased hands (about 10 minutes).
Pull the taffy for about 10 minutes. As you pull, you will notice the candy getting lighter in colour, as more and more air is incorporated. Roll smaller pieces of the batch into ½“ diameter ropes. Allow to cool for 30 minutes.
You can choose to twist 2 ropes together to combine colours and flavours before cutting into 1” pieces, or cut the single strands into individual pieces on their own. Wrap in wax paper.
Tips:
Saltwater Taffy
Yield: 50 – 1” pieces
|
Sugar |
500 ml (2 C) |
|
Cornstarch |
30 ml (2 T) |
|
Light Corn Syrup |
250 ml (1 C) |
|
Water |
180 ml (¾ C) |
|
Glycerin (optional) |
10 ml (2 t) |
|
Butter |
30 ml (2 T) |
|
Salt |
5 ml (1 t) |
|
Vanilla, Mint, Lemon, etc. extract |
5 ml (1 t) |
|
Food Colouring (optional) |
3+ drops |
C=cup T=tablespoon
t=teaspoon TT=to taste
In a 3 or 4 litre/quart saucepan, mix the sugar and cornstarch. Add the next 5 ingredients, and stir gently over medium-high heat. Once the mixture begins to boil, stop mixing and do not mix again. Use a pastry brush wetted with warm water to wash any sugar crystals from the sides of the pan.
Continue to cook, undisturbed, until the mixture reaches 270˚F on a candy thermometer. This is known as the soft crack stage. Remove the pan from the heat and gently stir in the flavouring and colouring.
Pour the molten candy onto a greased baking pan (with sides) sitting on a cooling rack. Allow the candy to cool until you can comfortably handle it with greased hands (about 10 minutes).
Pull the taffy for about 10 minutes. As you pull, you will notice the candy getting lighter in colour, as more and more air is incorporated. Roll smaller pieces of the batch into ½“ diameter ropes. Allow to cool for 30 minutes.
You can choose to twist 2 ropes together to combine colours and flavours before cutting into 1” pieces, or cut the single strands into individual pieces on their own. Wrap in wax paper.
Tips:
· Glycerin gives the taffy a soft, creamy consistency. It is an animal by-product, so vegetarians should omit it from the recipe.
· I used 4 drops of colouring for each batch that I made. As you can see from the photos, the finished candy was pretty light. Next time, I will try 5 or 6 drops for each batch.
· A single sugar crystal clinging to the side of the pan can cause the mixture to recrystallize, which is why it’s important to wash down the sides of the pan.
· I flavoured the “red” batch with vanilla and the green with peppermint for a Christmassy vanilla-mint combo.
Pork belly, cooked in the slow cooker with Merridale Cider, rosemary, bay leaves, s&p. Refrigerated ovenight, then meat shredded by hand, and the cooking liquid strained and reduced to a thin syrup. Meat and syrup broiled until crispy and brown.
served in tortillas
Four Christmas parties in 4 days…now that’s what I call festivizing (yes, I just made it up — it sounds a bit like “Festivus,” though I assure you this is purely accidental. I may have been channeling Frank Costanza unknowingly for a brief moment there.)
meat eaters didn't complain
Anyway, it’s mid-December and we’re into the season full throttle. And like most parties on Pender, 3 out 4 of last weekend’s parties were potlucks, with a large vegetarian contingent in attendance. To make things easy on myself I decided to make the same thing for all 3 parties — veggie sliders on potato rolls with caramelized onions, homemade tomato ketchup and roasted jalapeno mayo.
Some of you may already be thinking that rather than easy, these sliders sound a bit involved. Yes…hmmm…well, let’s just say that a quadruple recipe of my veggie burgers take some time to prep. It’s an all day project that kept me chopping, slicing, boiling, sweating, sauteing and food processing. After that, one of my smaller sized ring moulds and I spent a little too much time together. Five dozen mini-patties later, I was ready to start on the condiments.
these will never get old
Carmelized onions — easy. 6 medium onions, julienned, then sauteed with a pinch of salt over med-low heat in my largest cast iron pan. 45 minutes later, they were deep, deep brown.
Homemade ketchup – tomato concentrate, a bit of salt, and sugar to taste.
Roasted jalapeno mayo – Roast 2 jalapenos in the toaster oven/oven until charred. Sweat the pepper in a paper bag until cool enough to handle. Remove the skin and stem. Wash seeds off of the flesh under a gentle tap — dry the peppers, then process with approx 1.5 cups mayonaisse and the juice of 1/2 lime. (The plan was to make the mayo from scratch, but I got real and cut myself some slack.)
I used thinly sliced cucumber and cilanto leaves as a base and for a fresh crisp contrast to the rest of the burger.
I made traditional mini-burgers for the first night, but Howard and I decided on our walk home under the stars that there had been too much bread. After that, I switched to open face, which also makes a more visually dramatic presentation — the red and green made it very Christmas-appropriate.
I will be posting the veggie burger recipe in the new year — I’ve used this one for years, but after eating them for 3 out of the past 4 nights, I’ve decided the recipe needs a bit of a tweak, and I’d like to try a gluten free version. For that, you’ll have to stay tuned.
even with a thick coat, he's comin' back in
Oh and that second potluck? (Our December bookclub meeting.) The snow started to fall just as I got everything assembled with about 90 minutes to go. The snow fell quickly, and on our little island, snow removal can take awhile — so the hostess made the call, and we’re postponed until the 28th. And this time I’m keeping things easy – mashed potatoes…
You’ll need a smoker or dehydrator for this recipe. Or maybe try googling “dehydrate meat in oven” if that’s what ya’ got.
Howard and I used a Ronco Food Dehydrator that we bought at a garage sale for $1 with tasty success for many years, up until we bought our new smoker a few months ago. We find that with the new smoker, the flavour of the jerky now more closely resembles the jerky commerically avaiable (but better), and without the food additives.
That said, the meat we dried on the Ronco was super tasty and totally worth the effort. Use what you have.
makes a nice, light, snack
Bison Jerky
yield: however much it is, it will never be enough
| Bison bottom round steaks, cut on the bias, across the grain, about ¼” thick | 2 kg ( 4½ lb) |
| Soya Sauce | 180 ml (¾ C) |
| Very Warm Water | 60 ml (¼ C) |
| Mirin or Sherry | 60 ml (¼ C) |
| Sugar – (I use Sucanat) | 15 ml (1 T) |
| Sunflower or Safflower Oil | 30 ml (2 T) |
| Garlic, minced | 3 medium cloves |
| Ginger, minced | 15 ml (1 T) |
| Ground Pepper | 5 ml (1 t) |
| Chili Flakes | TT – (I use a couple of pinches) |
C=cup T=tablespoon
t=teaspoon TT=to taste
Combine the warm water and sugar to dissolve. Add the remaining marinade ingredients, and stir to combine. Ensure the marinade has cooled completely to room temperature before proceeding.
Combine the meat and marinade in a bowl or Tupperware-like container. Toss with your hands to ensure all meat is covered. Cover and refrigerate for 6-12 hours.
Lay the meat out on the smoker/dehydrator racks. If smoking, allow the meat to sit open to the air. This will slightly dry it, and give it a sort of “skin” (about 1-2 hours). If dehydrating, the meat can go directly into the drier.
bountiful bevy of bison
We smoke the meat for 90 minutes, then use the dehydrate mode of the smoker to finish the meat. Total time is 4 to 5 hours, depending on the thickness of the meat, and your preference for chewy to dry.
homemade beggin' strips
Tips:
You’ll need a smoker or dehydrator for this recipe. Or maybe try googling “dehydrate meat in oven” if that’s what ya’ got.
Howard and I used a Ronco Food Dehydrator that we bought at a garage sale for $1 with tasty success for many years, up until we bought our new smoker a few months ago. We find that with the new smoker, the flavour of the jerky now more closely resembles the jerky commerically avaiable (but better), and without the food additives.
That said, the meat we dried on the Ronco was super tasty and totally worth the effort. Use what you have.
pender cheesesteak
Leftover cumin & coriander rubbed flank steak, peppers, onions, jalapenos, mayo, aged white cheddar and s&p on a Medicine Beach Market organic baguette. Broiled in the toaster oven for 6 minutes.
leftovers on pender
nice crispy bacon, Mr. Frodo?
I love parsnips – they’ve been my favourite root vegetable since I rediscovered them in my late 20s. So, when I saw a recipe for parsnip soup in our culinary school curriculum, I was pumped to see what ambrosia our french instructors would have us create. Most of the other students had never even tasted a parsnip, so I continued to wax lyrical with enthusiastic praise for it right up until the moment we sat down to taste the soup.
The school version was so bad that not even my devotion to everything parsnip could get me through the whole bowl. It was the pears that did it. No one should add fruit (tomatoes excl.) to soup. It shouldn`t be allowed. (Unless of course, it’s a fruit soup — but that`s another topic for another time.)
My (lack of) taste was the object of many snide remarks as we cleaned up that night, especially as I continued to defend the parsnip and its potential. Cooks are a pretty straightforward bunch though – so aside from one sympathetic smile at the back of the crowd (thanks Naoko), most everyone was quite happy to slip in a little jab in at my expense.
I vowed then that one day I would show them the true value of the parsnip. And this soup does it. Howard and I each had big bowl for lunch with a thickly buttered piece of homemade sourdough, and agreed that it was as good as good can be. Yum.
I grew the parsnips that I used for this soup. It’s the first successful crop I’ve ever managed, as parsnips can be a bit persnickety. I’m so glad that I planted the stray seeds I found in the bottom of my seed basket! After that, I pretty much forgot about them until our first frost a couple of days ago. I have read that parsnips are always sweeter when harvested after the first frost – my research concurs.
Roasted Parsnip Soup
Yield: 2 large bowls or 4 small ones
| Parsnips, peeled and chopped into 1” (2cm) pieces | 225g ( ½ lb) |
| Olive Oil | 15 ml (1 T) |
| Honey | 15 ml (1 T) |
| Onion, julienned | ½ medium (½ C) |
| Unsalted Butter | 30 ml (2 T) |
| Pear Cider | 30 ml (2 T) |
| Fresh Thyme | 2 sprigs |
| Vegetable Stock | 750 ml (3 C) |
| Whipping Cream | 60ml (1/4 C) |
| Salt & pepper | TT |
C=cup T=tablespoon
t=teaspoon TT=to taste
Preheat the oven to 375˚ F. Toss the parsnips, olive oil, honey and salt & pepper in a bowl to coat. Roast the parsnips until light golden brown, approx 20 minutes. Stir and turn the parsnips halfway through.
Meanwhile, in a medium saucepan over med-low heat, sweat the onions, with a pinch of salt, in the butter until they are tender, but have NO colour. Add the roasted parsnips to the pan, increase the heat to med high, and cook for 2 minutes more. Add the pear cider and fresh thyme, simmer rapidly until almost dry. Add the vegetable stock, bring to a boil, then reduce the read to med-low and simmer for 20-30 minutes.
Remove the thyme sprigs and purée the soup with an immersion blender or food processor. Return the soup to the pan, stir in the whipping cream and season to taste. Serve hot.
Tips:
Stock is another one of those staples that you’ll find in the Island Vittles kitchen. I use a lot of chicken stock, but because of my new job at the Market, where we try to keep the hot lunches vegetarian, I have been perfecting my veg stock over the past few weeks.
I tried roasting veggies to pull out the sweetness, but didn’t like the finished stock – too dark, and not the flavour I was looking for. So I went back to the basics that I learned at culinary school. I used the mirepoix as a foundation, but for extra depth I add the fennel stalks and garlic. Italian sounding, I know, but this stock works well in virtually every cuisine. It takes about 45 minutes from start to finish, including the prep.
Vegetable Stock
Yield: 1 Litre
| Onion, peeled and cut into 8 wedges | 1 medium (1C) |
| Celery, coarsely chopped | 1 stalk (½C) |
| Carrot, peeled and coarsely chopped | 1 small (½C) |
| Fennel stalks, coarsely chopped, all feathery fronds removed | From 1 bulb (¾C) (reserve main bulb for another use) |
| Garlic, whole | 1 clove |
| Bouquet Garnii | 10 peppercorns, 2 sprigs thyme, 6 sprigs parsley, 2 bay leaves |
Place everything in a med sized saucepan and cover with 1L (4C) COLD water. Bring to a boil over high heat, and then reduce to low. Simmer gently for 30 minutes. Strain into a non-plastic container and cool. Refrigerate or freeze unless using immediately.
Tips:
mere moments away
As I mentioned briefly, we live on a small island. We have no chains here. No McD’s, no BK, no DQ, and no Starbucks. This, for the most part, is a good thing – both on the wallet and the body’s ability to process toxic food — except when I HAVE TO HAVE large fries and a 1-shot DRY cappuccino. (I realize that this combination would require separate trips through 2 different drive-thrus. But I don’t get out much rarely get into town, so I like to double up to make sure all of cravings are satiated.)
So when our old faithful Italian electric cappuccino maker packed it in, we bought a new stovetop model (better for the more-common-than-you’d -think power outages we live through here – now we can always make a capp on our little Coleman propane camping stove!)
To make a vanilla latté at home, we use simple syrup, which I usually have on hand in the fridge – if not, it only takes a couple of minutes to make. We also use a pure vanilla extract that was a gift from our neighbours on their last trip to Mexico.
Pour 30ml (2 T or 1oz) simple syrup into the bottom of the mug. Add ½ t vanilla, or more to taste, then pour the hot espresso/milk/foam over and serve. Inhale deeply before consuming.
This is a much more subtle version than what you will find at any of the big chain coffee houses. I find the sweetness of the simple syrup and pure vanilla so much more palatable than the synthetic taste of commercially available flavoured coffee syrups.
WAIT — it’s Friday — don’t let me get started on a Glucose-Fructose rant. I’ll save that for another day…
Have a good weekend all. See you Monday.
I’ve been talking about this recipe since my first post last week, and I must say that I’ve enjoyed these with a few different dips and spreads in the past few days. I can also personally attest to the fact that these stay fresh and tasty for at least 7 days when kept covered.
Lavash are Armenian and Iranian in origin, but are now eaten throughout the Middle East. These are a very thin and crisp version of the many varieties of flatbread that abound across the region. The pita, originally from Turkey, is probably the most universally recognized of them all.
I used the recipe from The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, and award winning book by master baker and teacher Peter Reinhart. I had this book recommended to me by a baking instructor, who lauded it as a fantastic resource for beginning bakers. I agree 100%.
I did a double batch of these so that I could try baking one as a whole sheet, and one in pre-scored cracker shapes. I used all of the toppings suggested, with a couple of differences: I omitted the caraway seeds, used smoked paprika, and added ajwain seeds to the mix.
These can be made in about 3 hours, so they are doable on a Saturday for a same-night party. I recommend pre-scoring the crackers as described in the recipe. I couldn’t get the full sheet to crack into aesthetically pleasing shapes – which is probably a result of not rolling out the dough thinly enough…but still, the pre-scoring allows control – and who doesn’t want a little of that where you can get it?
Lavash Crackers
taken from The Bread Baker’s Apprentice by Peter Reinhart
| Unbleached Bread Flour | 1 ½ C (6.75 oz) (190g) |
| Salt | ½ t |
| Instant Yeast | ½ t |
| Honey | 1 T (.75 oz) |
| Vegetable Oil | 1 T (.5 oz) |
| Water, at room temp | 1/3 – ½ C (3 – 4 oz) |
| Poppy seeds, sesame seeds, paprika, cumin seeds, caraway seeds, or kosher salt for topping | |
C=cup T=tablespoon
t=teaspoon
In a mixing bowl, stir together all ingredients, starting with 1/3 C water. Add enough water as necessary to bring everything together into a ball.
Transfer the dough onto a lightly floured counter. Knead for about 10 minutes. The dough should register 77˚to 81˚F (25˚ to 27˚C), and be satiny, but not tacky, to the touch. Place in a lightly oiled bowl, and roll around to coat the ball with oil. Cover with plastic wrap
Rise at room temperature for 90 minutes, or until the dough doubles in size. (Mine took about 2 ½ hours.)
Transfer the dough to a lightly oiled counter. Press the dough into a square and dust the top lightly with flour. Roll it out to a paper-thin sheet measuring about 15”x12” (38cmx30cm). You may have to allow the dough to relax from time to time. At these times, lift the dough from the counter, and then lay back down. Cover with a towel or plastic wrap while it relaxes. After rolling to the desired thickness, allow to rest 5 minutes, then transfer to a parchment lined baking sheet. Trim off excess if the dough hangs over the edge of the pan.
Preheat the oven to 350˚, and adjust the rack to the middle position. Mist the top of the dough with water and sprinkle with seeds and spices – used sparingly – a little goes a long way.
To pre-cut the crackers, use a pizza cutter to cut rectangles or diamonds in the dough. They don’t need to be fully separated – they will snap apart after baking. Or, you can bake the dough in a whole sheet and break into shards after cooling.
Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, or until the crackers begin to brown evenly across the top.
When baked, remove the crackers from the oven, and let them cool in the pan for 10 minutes.
Tips:
Tips:
· Take the time to roll these out thinly…the batch that I rolled out to “paper thin” were much more cracker-like.
You can also put the dough into the fridge right after kneading to allow it to retard overnight. Note that it will take some time (at least 1 hour) for the dough to return to room temperature before it can begin to rise in the next stage.
Smoky Tomato Dip
(makes just over 1 cup)
| Slow Roasted Tomato Halves | 12 (from med-lge tomatoes) |
| Smoked Tofu | 200g (7 oz) |
| Pine Nuts | 40g (1.5 oz) (½c) |
| Shallot, chopped | 30g (1 oz) (¼c) |
| Garlic, halved | 1 clove |
| Italian Parsley or Cilantro | Small handful |
| Tomato Concentrate | 45ml (3T) or 1t tomato paste |
| Olive Oil | 45ml (3T) + more for drizzling |
| Water | 30ml (2T) |
| Smoked Paprika | 2ml (¼t) |
| S+P | TT |
C=cup T=tablespoon
t=teaspoon TT=to taste
Remove the bitter green root from both halves of the garlic. Puree the tomato halves, tofu, pine nuts, shallot, garlic, parsley or cilantro, tomato concentrate or paste and olive oil in a food processor. Slowly drizzle in the water, and continue to puree until smooth. Remove to a bowl, and season with paprika and salt & pepper.
Serve with crackers & crudités.
it's causing a real stir
Tips
Tips
· This dip is RED. Can you say Christmas party?
· Everyone from meat maniac to vegan will love its deep, complex flavours. Very umami.
· If you have to use tomato paste, then increase the water to 45ml or 3T
· You could substitute sundried tomato for the oven roasted ones if that’s what you have. Use fewer sundried, and omit the tomato paste. You may want to add a little more tofu and olive oil & water to mellow out the strong tomato flavour.
· The pine nuts add richness, but almonds could be used to help save the Christmas budget.
I started this blog off last Friday with my version of Slow Roasted Tomatoes. Did anyone out there save the seeds and the piths like I asked? Hello?… Anyone?… Bueller?…
If you are in the possession of all your seeds and piths, then you can make a rich tomato concentrate that will add deep tomato taste and rich red colour to your dishes. Molecular gastronomist/chef Heston Blumenthal first demonstrated this method on his show Search for Perfection. It looked like a good idea – one I’d have to try. Ever since, I almost always have a little bit of this concentrate in my fridge. It’s a secret dish enhancer.
It does take a good number of tomatoes (minimum 2-3lbs) to get enough seeds to make it worthwhile, though, so I collect the seeds and piths as I go, throwing them into a tub in the freezer until I have a big enough batch.
Press the seeds and pith through a strainer, extracting as much juice as possible. I use my hands to squeeze as much of the jelly-like coating from the seeds as I can. This jelly contains FLAVOUR.
Reduce the juice at a low boil until the liquid has a ketchup consistency. As the concentrate thickens, lower the heat and stir often to avoid burning it. Season with a little bit of salt, if desired.
Cool and store covered in the fridge for 5-7 days. Use it sparingly on sandwiches, burgers, as well as in sauces and dips.
This is not a new idea – I know. But we had such a bad summer for tomatoes on our little island, that there was very little opportunity to enjoy the intense sweetness of one picked fresh off the vine. Even gifted gardeners (not me, but I try!) had poor crops this year.
So I’ve gone a little overboard for the past couple of months, buying those not-so-tasty-resource-hogging-hydroponic-hothouse tomatoes and slow roasting the hell out of them. I really should stop, but I’ve gotten pretty good at it – I can bring robust flavour into even the sorriest excuse for a tomato. Even unripe Mexican Romas would be no match. (Although I’m happy to report I haven’t sunk that low yet.)
My other reason for starting with this method is that I consider it to be a Foundational Recipe. By that I mean one that is used as a base ingredient in any other number of dishes. Italian dishes spring to mind immediately, but I also use roasted tomatoes in South Asian curries, French sauces, Greek moussakas, etc.
Eventually, I hope to present a number of recipes using these. Check back and see if I’m all talk, or, well, you know.
Tips:
Slow Roasted Tomatoes
| Tomatoes | I usually do 2-3 lbs | Approx 1 kg |
| Olive Oil | For drizzling | |
| Fresh Thyme | 2 sprigs, leaves removed | |
| Coarse Sea or Kosher Salt | TT (to taste) |
Preheat oven to 250˚ and move the rack to the middle position.
Core the tomatoes, then cut in half, pole to pole. Using a spoon, scoop out the seeds and piths. Retain these for use in something else. (You’ll learn quickly that I don’t like to waste anything.)
Line a rimmed baking sheet or broiler pan with parchment. Arrange the tomatoes cut side up and drizzle lightly with olive oil. Sprinkle the thyme leaves and salt over top, and roast in the oven until the bottoms begin to very lightly colour, about 60-90 minutes. Turn the tomatoes over, and return to the oven for until virtually all of the liquid has evaporated, but the tomatoes are still shiny and slightly moist, approx. 30-45 minutes more.
Remove from the oven and cool completely. If they are on the done side, you may want to remove them to a plate to stop the cooking. Store in a covered container in the fridge — use within 4 or 5 days.
Remember this Cracker...
Here is a simple presentation with the tomato on a Lavash cracker that I will posting about soon. I didn’t dress it up, because I wanted to show you the finished tomato, but if this was going farther than my own mouth, I would probably pipe a little mayo (homemade preferred, but store bought will do) mixed with some finely chopped fennel fronds on to the tomato before garnishing with the red onion.
Slow Roasted Tomatoes
This is not a new idea – I know. But we had such a bad summer for tomatoes on our little island, that there was very little opportunity to enjoy the intense sweetness of one picked fresh off the vine. Even experienced gardeners (not me) had poor crops this year.
So I’ve gone a little overboard for the past couple of months, buying those not-so-tasty-resource-hogging-hydroponic-hothouse tomatoes and slow roasting the hell out of them. I really should stop, but I’ve gotten pretty good at it – I can bring robust flavour into even the sorriest excuse for a tomato. Even unripe Mexican Romas would be no match. (Although I’m happy to report I haven’t sunk that low yet.)
My other reason for starting with this method is that I consider it to be a Foundational Recipe. By that I mean one that is used as a base ingredient in any other number of dishes. The applications in Italian dishes are obvious. But I also use them in South Asian curries, French sauces, Greek moussakas, etc.
