Monthly Archives: March 2012

Maple Pudding for Easter Dinner

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Kaitie is coming home for Easter. She will be within biting distance for about 48 hours. When time is that precious, I do not want to be distracted by meal preparation. Mind you, I do want yummy meals so I am pre-planning. I did a test run on the pudding that I will serve for Easter dinner’s dessert  ‘HOLY SNAPPIN’ GARTER BELTS’, as Ralph would say…

This one’s a keeper!

Maple Pudding  [Poor Man's Pudding]

3/4 cup softened butter

1/2 cup white sugar

1/2 cup brown sugar

2 eggs

1 tsp vanilla

2 cups flour

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1 cup pure maple syrup

1 cups heavy cream (35%)

In a large bowl, cream the butter

Add the sugars and beat until light and fluffy.

Add the eggs one at a time, mixing well after each egg.

Add the vanilla and mix.

Add the flour and baking powder and stir until well blended.

Refrigerate for 1 hour.

In a saucepan, combine the maple syrup and heavy cream.

Bring to a boil, stirring often.

As soon as it boils, remove from heat.

Cool slightly then refrigerate until pudding batter is chilled.

Preheat oven to 450*F

Place 6 – 5 ounce ramekins on a baking sheet.

Spoon 3 tablespoons of sauce into each dish.

Divide the batter by dropping tablespoons between the ramekins.

Divide the remaining sauce between the puddings.

Bake for 25 minutes or until an inserted toothpick comes out clean.

Cool slightly then serve with vanilla ice cream.

Butter, heavy cream and maple syrup are hardly the ingredients that come to mind when I think of what it would have been like to bake during the Great Depression. My grandmother’s story of surviving on stale bread soaked in milk and then fried in lard will forever be my visual of food during that era. I have a feeling that the ingredients have morphed over the years! No matter, I hope you will give this pudding a try. It is awesome!

Thanks for reading.

Air Canada Wrecked Our Weekend

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I was to fly to Toronto this weekend for some intense Kaitie time. It did not happen. Air Canada cancelled my flight due to an ill legal strike. Kaitie’s voice, after hearing that I was not going to make it, broke my heart. When you are only hours away from; being able to cuddle on the couch, drink tea and catch up on every moment since we last were together, being told that it is not going to happen, is devastating. She cried while my arms ached at the thought of not being able to hug her.

Long distance mothering sucks… The best that I could do was to rebook for May and pray everything goes according to plan.

Ralph and I decided to have an impromptu dinner party Saturday evening. Some people make lemonade, I made a cake. This is my birthday cake recipe. It’s moist, rich and delicious. It wasn’t anybody’s birthday. I just wanted some cake…

Best Birthday Cake, adapted from a kabillion different recipes

1 cup butter, softened

2 cups sugar

4 eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla

3 cups flour

1 tablespoon baking flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 1/4 cup buttermilk

Preheat oven 350*F

Butter and flour 2 – 8″ round cake pans

Sift flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt together and set aside

Beat butter until light and fluffy

Gradually add sugar and beat for 5 minutes

Add eggs, one at a time then beat for 5 minutes

Alternate flour mixture with buttermilk until everything is incorporated and well blended

Divide between cake pans

Check at 35 minutes

Cake is done when sides have pulled slightly from the edge of the pan and a toothpick inserted into the centre of the cake comes out clean.

Allow to cool for 10 minutes then remove from pans and cool completely on a wire rack

Cream Cheese Icing

8 ounces cream cheese

1/4 cup butter

2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

4 cups icing sugar

Beat butter with cream cheese

Add vanilla and icing sugar

Beat until until light and fluffy.

Thanks for reading.

Smells like Mud…

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Gritty sidewalks yet to be swept, discarded Christmas trees scorched orange from the sun sit in alley ways, school children shiver in their brightly colored flip-flops as they walk to school and the intoxicating smell of mud. It’s Spring in the south end of Saint John.

 As I walked to work yesterday morning, I almost started to skip. The dewy breeze from the Bay, the just-warm sun and the return of bird song overwhelmed me. Not to worry, I managed to stay at an even pace with both feet on the ground despite my euphoria.

To celebrate Spring’s arrival, I prepared one of my favorite vegetables; artichokes, for dinner. There is something so ‘June Cleaver’ about these lovely edible thistles. No matter how laid back I try to make their presentation, artichokes always show up wearing pearls!

There are many web sites describing the how-to of artichoke cookery. If I was having guests over for dinner I would dig out the ‘choke’, but Ralph and I are happy to scrape away the fuzz as we eat.

Giant Globe Artichoke with French Vinaigrette

serves 2

Trim 2 globe artichokes

 Place in steamer for 30 minutes, then check to see if they are done.

In the mean time, prepare a simple vinaigrette

French Vinaigrette

1 clove of garlic, minced

1/2 teaspoon sea salt

1 heaping teaspoon Dijon mustard

2 tablespoons best quality white wine vinegar

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

In a small bowl combine garlic, Dijon mustard, vinegar, salt and pepper

Whisk in olive oil until emulsified

Check your artichokes at 30 minutes, by trying to pull off one of the tough outer leaves. If it pulls away easily, they are cooked.

Remove from steamer and place in serving dishes. Open the artichoke up so that it resembles a blown open peony. Divide and pour the vinaigrette over and between the artichoke leaves.

Artichokes insist on interactive eating. They require work to remove individual leaves so you can scrape a tiny bit of vegetable flesh into your mouth. It is worth the effort to get to the prize!

If you have only ever eaten canned artichokes, it’s time to take the leap. Think of the taste of canned peas compared to the taste of new peas straight from the garden.

Same thing to the tenth power…

Thanks for reading and Happy Spring!

Jay Remer Reviews Italian by Night

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 I follow Jay Remer ,the Etiquette Guy, on Twitter. I love having a daily shot of guidance in behaving well! When he came into Italian by Night last Thursday evening, had I known that he would be writing a review, I might have been paralyzed. Luckily for me, I thought that he was just there for dinner…

The Etiquette Guy

Thursday, March 15, 2012

The Urban Deli – Italian by Night – A Review

Few experiences in life excite me more than trying out a new restaurant. Recently in Saint John, The Urban Deli took a leap of faith and expanded their hours of operation and opened for dinner three nights a week. What was most remarkable was the departure from their usual fare of hearty delicious “deli” food to authentic Italian cuisine. What a smart move they have made. Discovering that the Chef for this new menu is Michelle Hooton, former Deputy Mayor of the city, added to my anticipation.

Entering the restaurant through a heavy dark green velvet curtain momentarily transports one back to the days of speakeasies. Italian soloist Andrea Bocelli’s enchanting voice welcomed us into the familiar space and the friendly staff was quick to offer to hang our coats and seat us in a comfortable booth. One feels immediately relaxed and very welcome. The fact that the space is small and uncluttered added to the ambiance. A critical eye would also notice how immaculately clean everything is, including the washrooms.

The simplicity of the beautifully designed menu served only to enhance the enticing offerings. The three of us opted to ask the chef to decide what we would eat, which greatly reduced the impossible decision-making process that could have ensued. We began with a traditional Antipasto di Verdure that tasted as fresh and delicious as any I have ever had, with everything made from the freshest ingredients. We shared a Primo course of Penne con Sugo di Salsiccie, wonderfully seasoned house-made veal and pork sausage on imported pasta. For a Secondo, we tied into the most delicious slow-roasted Oxtail one could imagine, completely fall-off-the-bone juicy and rich. We shared a delightfully light Cioccolato Crème Brulee for dessert, served in a demitasse cup and perfect.

As brilliant as the food was, the experience would not have been as memorable without the knowledgeable ebullient server and the dedicated owner whose love of food is unmistakable. But it was the chef herself who came to table to describe each course that made the evening ever so special. As she was describing the Oxtail, she alluded to a secret ingredient that made it so wonderful. The pure joy emanating from her rosy-cheeked face and her wide grin indicated she was in her element. I came to the conclusion that secret element could be none other than what is a hallmark of any great food – Love.

Although this does not pretend to be a fine dining establishment, I found the whole experience better than many I have had in more pretentious (and expensive) restaurants in major cities around the world. I was impressed and thrilled to find a world-class gem right in my own back yard!

I read this review and was completely blown away…bliss

Thanks for reading.

when your gnocchi turns into mashed potatoes…

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I have made gnocchi for thirty years. Three decades of practise gives a person a sense of confidence that is rock solid. Tuesday evening crushed my confidence.

Despite the miserable March weather, the restaurant was humming. The orders were coming in and leaving the kitchen at a lovely rate. For our ‘In Addition’ menu, I had prepared a rich creamy lamb sauce on which I had intended to serve our house made potato gnocchi. My version of meat and potatoes - ’Italian style’!

I was chatting away as I poached the gnocchi, not really paying close attention to what was happening in the pot.

With blind faith, I dropped the gnocchi into the skillet on top of the lamb sauce. I almost had a heart attack when I lifted the skillet to give it a toss. My usual perfect little pillows were nothing more than a lump of watery mashed potatoes!

I had a board full of orders and a pot full of mud. My mantra in the kitchen has always been – shoulders back, deep breath, steady pace. At that precise moment, my mantra was silenced by panic. What the heck was I going to do? Liz calmly said, ‘what are you going to do? Don’t sweat it – make the call.’ That is restaurant speak for ‘fix it or chuck it’

Total instinct took over. I grabbed a skillet and placed it over a high flame. I dropped a spoonful of clarified butter into the centre of the skillet and then added the gnocchi. The gnocchi looked perfect but clearly the potato to flour ratio was off, hence the watery mush when poached. However, I knew they would hold if they were browned, gently…

Being able to turn on a dime is critical in a professional kitchen. Stuff happens that you could never anticipate. We have an exposed kitchen so screaming, jumping up and down or throwing pots at the wall are not options for me. I am in more of a ‘suck it up Princess’ kind of situation…lol. I love it!

Carefully browning the gnocchi worked - exhale.

Thanks for reading.

St. Paddy’s Day

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I don’t have an Irish bone in my body but like every other full-blooded Saint Johnner I honour St Paddy’s Day.

I remember one year Ralph attending the annual St Patrick’s Day dinner for men only. He left the house, dressed to the nines, looking forward to an evening of male comradery. Typically, about 20 or so gents would start the evening at our neighbor”s  fabulous turn-of-the-century home, complete with stunning library where the men would commence drinking and smoking cigars before they made their way to the formal dinner.

Around midnight of the same night, I started watching the clock and wondering where Ralph had ended up. By 1:30 am, I was ready to head down to the pub and drag him home! I got out of bed, got dressed and as I unlocked the front door, it flew open. Ralph, sound asleep, had leaned against it while sitting on our front step, . He fell back into the entrance, looked up at me and grinned. “I couldn’t get me key in the lock and I didn’t want to wake ye,” he said in his best Irish brogue – ADORABLE

Last night, I made Irish Coddle and Soda Bread for dinner. It was a lovely, simple meal to prepare and absolutely delicious to eat!

Soda Bread

makes 1 loaf

preheat oven 450*F

4 cups all-purpose flour

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda

1 3/4 cup buttermilk

In a large mixing bowl, sift flour, salt and soda together.

Make a well in the centre of the dry ingredients and pour in buttermilk.

Mix to form a soft but not sticky dough.

Knead for a couple of minutes and shape into a round flat disk 2 ” high

Cut a deep cross on top of the loaf

Bake for 15 minutes then reduce heat to 400*F for a further 30 minutes.

Loaf should sound hollow when tapped on the bottom when it is cooked.

Coddle

preheat oven 350*F

serves 4

4 slices bacon, cut into 1″ pieces

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

2 large onions, chopped

2 garlic cloves, minced

8 large pork sausages

4 large potatoes, peeled and sliced thin

1 1/2 cup beer

sea salt and freshly ground pepper

1/2 teaspoon dried sage

Heat oil in heavy casserole and fry bacon for 2 minutes

Add onion and saute for 5 minutes

Add garlic and saute for 1 more minute

Add Sausages and brown on all sides

Remove sausages from the pan and place the thinly sliced potatoes on top of the onion and bacon mixture. Sprinkle with salt, pepper and sage.

Pour beer over potatoes and place sausages on top. Cover and place in oven for one hour.

Serve with Soda Bread.

May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, and rains fall soft upon your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

I have always loved this old Irish blessing. With my beautiful girls so far away…

Thanks for reading.

Sunday Morning Blueberry Muffins

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There are times when I do not want a healthy muffin.

This morning, I wasn’t looking for a whole grain, low-fat, no sugar kind of muffin. I wanted a full fat, tons of sugar, delicate texture – that means refined flour – blueberry muffin.

It’s Sunday morning, Ralph is not feeling well and the skies are grey. I need a treat!

Jumbo Blueberry Muffins

preheat oven 375*F

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 cup butter, softened

1 cup white sugar

2 extra-large eggs

2 teaspoons pure vanilla

1/2 cup whole milk

3 cups blueberries

Sift flour, baking powder, salt and cinnamon together and set aside

Beat butter and sugar together until light and fluffy

Add eggs, one at a time, beating until light

Add vanilla and beat well

Add flour mixture and milk, alternatively by thirds – mix well

Fold in blueberries

Divide batter between 12 greased or paper lined muffin cups

Check at 25 minutes – muffins should be golden and baked through.

It’s a perfect day to curl up with a great book, a big cup of steaming, perfectly brewed coffee and as many of these lovely muffins as I need.

I’ll be back on the bran buds tomorrow…

Thanks for reading.

Salty Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies make me happy

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It is unbelievable how alive I feel when the sun comes out.

The last few weeks have been dark, dreary and all around dismal!

Yikes! I started working on this post yesterday when the sun was brilliant and the temperature was soaring. Sadly, today I am typing away as the wind and rain hurls around my house. So much for the happiness surge.

With my girls living so far away, it’s easy for me to blame my constant low-of-late on their current choices of address. Happily for the girls, Ralph quickly points out that every year, sometime after mid February my smile is scarce for several weeks. “You sink every year,kiddo”

It’s true. I miss the warmth from the sun. Luckily, the restaurant keeps me moving despite my desire to curl up with a blanket in front of the television so that I can watch Colin Firth’s portrayal of Mr. Darcy for the eighth time.

Yesterday was proof that my heavy heart is closely tied to the grey skies. When I woke up and saw the sun seeping in around my black out curtains, I bounced out of bed and started to bake. I couldn’t wait to buzz around my kitchen, with the sun streaming in, cookies in the oven and hope on the horizon.

Amazing what a little sunshine can do…

My grandmother Chase has made these cookies since I was a little girl. Whenever we would drop in for a visit, her cookie tin would be sitting on the kitchen counter full of delicious home-made cookies. Lucky for us, it still is.

I use a smooth and salty peanut butter. No health store, hard to mix, peanut butter for me!

I keep an apple in my brown sugar bag to keep my sugar soft. If you try this trick, make sure you change the apple every few weeks so that you don’t end up with a rotting mess in the sugar can.

Salty Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies

reheat oven 350* F

1 cup peanut butter

1 cup butter, softened

1 cup white sugar

1 cup brown sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla

2 eggs

1 cup flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 cups oatmeal

8 ounces chocolate chips

Cream together peanut butter and butter until light and fluffy

Add sugars, eggs and vanilla and beat well

Stir flour, baking soda and salt together and mix in to butter/sugar mixture.

Stir in oatmeal and chocolate chips.

Drop by large tablespoons on to parchment lined baking sheets

Bake until golden – check at 15 minutes

If I can’t have the sun, at least I can eat cookies.

Thanks for reading.

Cooking Vacation in the south of Italy

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To celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary, Ralph and I fulfilled a promise, to each other, of taking a holiday in Italy. We started in Tuscany and finished on the Amalfi coast. Our time in Tuscany was magical. We had rented a small villa in Bucine which is a 25 minutes drive south from Florence. Our first time in Italy saw us up at the crack of dawn every day driving, our little rented car, all over the hills of Chianti. It was fantastic! However, by the time we were heading south to Sorrento, we were pooped.

It took us the better part of a day to travel from Tuscany to Sant’Agata Sui Due Golfi . Driving the Amalfi coastline is exactly like every description that you have ever read – white knuckle terror!

By the time that we pulled into Oasis Olimpia Relais, Ralph was completely wasted. He looked like he had been run over by a transport truck and drug for several miles. As we were building up the energy to get out of the car and check in to what looked like a lovely hotel, we heard, ‘Mr. Hooton!’ in the sexiest Italian female voice that you could imagine.

We looked up and there standing outside of our car was the warmest, most vivacious perfectly Italian young woman that we had ever seen. I wanted to put a bag over Ralph’s head. Her name was Carmen.

Carmen is the most remarkable hotel general manager that we have ever had the pleasure of meeting. She ran the hotel with grace and complete efficiency. No detail was too small for her attention.

We arrived at the end of the tourist season so the hotel was not very busy. In the evenings, Ralph and I would finish our day by sitting in front of the hotel’s huge fire-place sipping wine with Carmen and the owner of the hotel, Salvatore. As Salvatore could not speak English, Carmen acted as translator. We spoke about the differences between life in Canada and Italy, family, business and food.

The hotel had a brand new state-of-the-art kitchen which I lusted over every day. One evening as we were enjoying our daily constitutional, Carmen asked if I would like to cook in their kitchen. I just about jumped out of my skin!

I gave her my grocery list. The next day I cooked dinner for Ralph, Carmen, Salvatore, Antonio [the chef], Tonino [the waiter] and several of the maids. While I was cooking, Carmen and I chatted about how much North Americans love Italian cuisine. I told her about Sister’s and how I taught Italian cooking classes.

During dinner Salvatore suggested that I come back to his hotel for the following season and cook. I loved the idea – Ralph not so much…

I haven’t thought about Carmen and our perfect holiday in a long time. Last Friday, as I was spending time on ‘Pinterest’, I was scrolling through images of Sorrento on Google when my cursor landed on a photo of an Italian female cook. The caption said ‘Chef Carmen’. I enlarged the photo and sure enough there she was – a chef!

Carmen and Salvatore now offer cooking holidays for tourists interested in Italian cooking.

If you are interested in this type of holiday, with all of my heart, I would encourage you to go…

Thanks for reading.

An all-Canadian girl loves an all-Canadian boy

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Being married to a hockey player has tried my patience more than once. When the girls were little, it was nothing for Ralph to have been on the road for three nights in mid February to come home long enough to change his clothes, give us all a quick kiss then head out to the hockey rink. I had the responsibility of keeping the wood stove stoked, shoveling our driveway due to at least one snow dump, running my flower shop, kennel training our beagle Molly and caring for the girls. It never occurred to him that his hockey game might not be at the top of our priority list!

It has always been amazing to me that his out-of-town business meetings accommodated his hockey schedule so perfectly. Apparently, the other Maritime provinces do very little business on Friday so he was always able to make his Thursday night games.

For twenty-five years, I have watched my 6’4″ – 235 lb husband have the enthusiasm of a child as he heads to the hockey rink at all hours of the night, in all kinds of weather to play hockey with men that he has played with all of his life. I have listened to memories of him learning to skate by balancing with a metal chair on a puddle of ice when he lived in the city. Then moving to the country and being able to play all day outside on the ponds near his family’s home.

Stories of him having to walk five miles to the rink for a practise before school started, carrying his hockey gear in a plastic garbage bag, fascinated the girls.

“Why didn’t Nanny or Papa drive you?” “Why didn’t you have a hockey bag?” The picture that Ralph drew for the girls was of a time and way of raising children that was very different from their reality. He was one of seven children, all of whom had needs just as important as his. His need was to play hockey and he did!

So here we are in the middle of another play-off season. To tell the truth, when we were younger, I secretly believed that he would have hung up his skates long ago. I now understand – it’s not gonna happen. He is an all-Canadian boy. He will play hockey as long as he can

But then again I am an all-Canadian girl. Despite the late games, the vile smell of hockey gear rotting in our basement , my banged up walls and wood work due to an over sized hockey bag being drug through the house and constantly having to arrange holiday dinners around tournament schedules.  I get it…

I have made this dish for Ralph, during the pay-offs for years.

Spicy Pasta with Tuna and Grape Tomatoes

serves 2

2 small tins tuna

250g short cut pasta - penne, fusilli etc

1 cup grape tomatoes, halved

1 red bell pepper, chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil

chilli flakes, to taste

sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Cook pasta according to manufacture’s instructions

While pasta is cooking, place a large skillet over medium heat

Warm olive oil and saute garlic with chilli flakes  for 2 minutes

Add chopped peppers and saute for 3 minutes

Add tomatoes and continue cooking another 3 minutes

Add tuna, breaking it apart with a fork.

Add cooked pasta and toss well.

Taste for seasonings and add extra olive oil to your taste.

Plate and serve.

Ralph’s team just won the semi finals and are heading into the finals next week – just sayin’.

Thanks for reading.