October 06, 2009

Open House countdown begins...only 74 days until December 20!

Every year, for the past 15 years, we have held a Holiday Open House.  The only time we missed was last year, while we were just barely back in the house and the place was still a disaster.

It is - bar none - the very BEST thing we do all year.  Cooking will start in a couple of weeks' time; we're now at the "menu selection" phase.  Only hors d'oeuvres. Wine aplenty, and of course my Cranberry Cocktail punch.  A LOT of food.  Newbies stagger home; old hands fast for three days prior.  And there are still leftovers!

Tough decisions to make.  There was almost a mutiny one year when the three cheese fondue wasn't on the menu (that was the year we foolishly said "let's try ALL new recipes this year!").  Invitations to make (yeah well I got talked out of that this year, although I think Richard still believes he will find me with a glue gun and felt in the middle of the night weeks from now).  Non-negotiables: the gingerbread cookies personalised with everyone's name (including kids and pets - "no kiddie" couples with two cats score big time).

Sometimes there's snow. It's increasingly cold and bitter in mid-December. Friends who have met here and only connect on this one magical day, talking as if they had just had coffee together two weeks' prior.  Kids that we've seen grow up, and new babies still arriving. Our "Food Bank" box for non-perishables, to give back something amid the plenty.

The piano player loves coming - and sadly it's the only time the piano is used.  Servers have, in the past, been stuck in the grungy basement to prep food for serving - this year will be an embarrassment of riches in our kick-ass kitchen.

Let the marathon begin.


September 20, 2009

Here's where we were a year ago...



Yep, we weren't living in the house (still in that hellhole of an apartment), and into month four of our project.  I couldn't have imagined then that it would turn out like this...





My Life in France

So, My Life in France was a transformative experience. I mean, transformative. All I really remember about Julia Child was my mother watching the show and her horror at how, well, sloppy Julia was. Not that Ma was the world's neatest cook. And. as they say, the fruit doesn't fall from the tree. The bits and pieces fly in my kitchen, for sure.

But I digress. My Life in France naturally led to an opening night viewing of Julie and Julia, and of course, an honorary dinner cooked to celebrate Julia's BD on August 15. More on that later. What I really want to talk about is pastry. Its simplicity. Its elasticity. Its pliability and ultimately - if done right - its ethereal flakiness. So why does it strike fear in the hearts of many of us?

After all, pastry is probably one of the most elemental of things. Flour. Butter. Lard. Salt. Some ice water. Mix. Let rest. Roll out. Bake. And even though pie is probably my very favourite of desserts, I somehow have shied away from pastry. But Julia's tarte tatin changed all that. It was meant to be the pièce de résistance of our Julia birthday dinner, and it was, only we made it the next morning. Can I tell you how gorgeous eating warm tarte tatin is, when the crust is just perfect? When the sun is streaming in your beautiful kitchen windows, you have a steaming cup of coffee and the whole of a lazy Sunday in front of you?

Herewith, Julia's recipe, from Julia's Kitchen Wisdom, with some editorial comments. And, natch, a pic of said tarte.

All-Purpose Pie Dough - Pâte Brisée Fine
Dough for two 9-inch round shells or a 14-by-18-inch free form shell

1 1/2 cups unbleached all purpose flour (measured by scoop + level method)*

1/2 cup plain bleached cake flour
Why bleached flour here but not above? I must investigate...

1 tsp salt

1 1/2 sticks (6 ounces) chilled unsalted butter, diced

4 tbs chilled vegetable shortening
Here's my secret. I used good old fashioned pork lard, bought from the lovely Mennonite lady at my farmer's market. I never met a part of the pig I didn't like. And honestly, it adds the VERY best flavour.

1/2 cup ice water, plus droplets more if needed
Droplets. A lovely, oft neglected word, isn't it?

Combine the flours, salt and butter in the bowl of a food processor fitted with steel blade. Pulse 5 or 6 times in 1/2 second bursts to break up butter. Add lard, turn on machine and immediately pour in the ice water, pulsing 2 or 3 times. Remove cover and observe the dough, which will look like a mass of smallish lumps and should hold in a mass when a handful is pressed together. If too dry, pulse in droplets more water.

Turn dough out onto your work surface and with the heel of your hand rapidly and roughly push egg-sized blobs out in front of you in 6-inch smears. Gather the dough into a relatively smooth cake; wrap in plastic, and refrigerate at least 2 hours (or up to 2 days) or you may freeze for several months.

Proceed with whatever recipe you are making - trust me, your pastry will be delicious!


*Scoop and level method. Now, here's a contradiction. In Mastering (I have the 1983 edition), Julia instructs us to scoop the dry-measure cup directly into the flour container and fill the cup to overflowing. Without shaking or patting down the flour, sweep off the excess, and sift after measuring. In Wisdom (2000), you're meant to place the dry-measure cup on a large piece of waxed paper, scoop the flour directly into the sifter and sift it directly into the cup until overflowing, then level as above. Seems more fussy, no? and certainly more messy. But they say with age comes Wisdom, and this method hearkens back more closely to the original edition of Mastering. Confession: while I scooped and levelled, I did not sift the first time I made the dough. Still came out great.

March 19, 2009

The little kitchen that could



Here's the original kitchen, in all its glory. The house is about 100 years old, and I'm sure over the course of that time this small space has gone through many changes. Certainly the funky Mexican tile was not original to the house!

At the time it didn't seem so bad. Everything was (literally) within arm's reach. Efficiency meant no counter clutter...good thing because there wasn't really a counter to speak of. The lazy susan in the corner held a *lot* of stuff. And the view was pretty, especially when Trixie chose the sit in the window.

Original Footprint

I've attached a floor plan of the house.

Original floor plan

March 16, 2009

There's a big hole in my backyard


Almost a year and a few thousand dollars ago a big hole appeared in our backyard. It may have looked like an oversized duck pond or a swimming pool gone wrong but I knew exactly what it was - the home of my future fabulous still-to-be-designed dream kitchen.