Introductions

A photo essay on my first conscious gluten free baking experience. Lauren from Celiac Teen came over this morning, a date arranged shortly after we realized we only lived blocks from each other. Through a rainy walk she brought with her a backpack full of flours. We were going to make pie. 

The girls took to her immediately, probably assuming she was some fantastic creature known as the babysitter. Their excitement was no less once they realized we were all going to bake together. We donned aprons, we measured flour, we drank tea while our pastry chilled. Then we cut up peaches and plums to mix with blackberries and tonka bean. And while our galettes baked the little ones chased us around the house. It was comfort and chaos all at once. Welcome to our home, Lauren.

And the pastry? Fantastic. It tasted great raw, and even better cooked. It was a tender dough to work with, so I worried that it wouldn't be very flaky. I was wrong. To be honest, you would be hard pressed to pick out out from a conventional pate brisee.

We filled it with our fruit, a touch of sugar and millet flour and a whole tonka bean grated in. The crust we brushed with cream. The galettes baked for 30 minutes. And after our conversations we sat silently with our tonka bean sweetened cream on top of our galettes. Silent only as the four of us devoured an entire galette for lunch.

Season by Season

It's been a rough, rough couple of weeks in the Arkison household. Give us a few more weeks and we should be back on track.

This week, however, as been for snuggles, rest, and comfort. But a family can't live on ice cream alone. Is there any other summer comfort food? The other day I was desperate for a peach, I wanted the juice to drip off my chin and the scent to tickle my nose with summer pleasure. Of course, that might have had something to do with the fact that we were driving through Peachland on our way home from a funeral.

In sharing with a friend she mentioned that the only way to get through times like this is day by day, then season by season. As a food obsessed kind of gal, seasons are a strong marker in our lives. We eat by the seasons, therefore we live by the seasons. And I'm someone who is hard pressed to actually pick a favourite season (although I usually answer winter, when asked.) So as we recover from the latest round of flurries to the solar plexus I sought comfort in summer.

This is my Baba's raspberries and cream. Smilosaurus called it ice cream and The Monster declared she didn't like it. To me it was my Baba's old people smelling hug in a stifling house, arms covered in scratches from the raspberry canes. It was the weeks in the summer we were sent to Saskatchewan, which we hated at the time, but now I cherish. It was family, it was generations, it was summer treats.

Oddly, I used frozen raspberries for this. It was what I had. And, to be honest, it was what we usually used if it wasn't that exact berry season.  Strawberries work equally well. If you are using frozen berries, thaw first and drain off excess juice. Baba usually used regular white sugar, but I like mine with brown for that punch of extra flavour.

Berries and Cream

Equal parts mashed berries and sour cream or farm cream

Sugar to taste.

1. Stir together. Eat. Be comforted.

Summer Sunday Dinner

After a weekend of landscaping - well, a weekend of mostly providing snacks, lemonade, and advice while Hubby did some landscaping - I thought I should treat the man with a good dinner. Steak was too obvious. Then I remembered that our old summer ritual has been neglected since the girls arrived. Time to bring out the lobster.

Back story:

Hubby and I met 15 years ago. We started dating once I finished undergrad a year later. He came to visit me in Halifax. See, I was going to keep working at my organic vegetarian bakery cafe job and save money to go to Europe. Then he decided to visit. After spending a week driving around Nova Scotia, eating lobster along the way, I knew there was no way I would get to Europe. 

So, a few days after he left and more than a few boxes of Kleenex later I booked myself a plane ticket West, packed up all my University belongings, and called him. We chatted for a bit, then I asked him what he was doing the next night. When he replied that he had nothing going on I suggested me might want to pick me up at the airport. Like a good man he asked why I was coming to Edmonton. And like a brave, slightly stupid 21 year old I simply answered, "You."

One plane ride, a short soap opera, 14 years, and 2 kids later I still say it was the dumbest and best thing I ever did.

And every summer since we've treated ourselves to a lobster dinner. Indeed, this is more of an anniversary than our actual wedding anniversary. Tonight we brought the girls into our tradition.

That may have been a very, very bad idea. The Monster was all excited to buy the lobsters with me, happily carrying them and showing them off to Daddy. The girls are quite fascinated with the lobsters at the market and are wickedly curious about them. This fact alone could not prepare me for the abject terror Smilosaurus had when actually face to face with a lobster.

I should have been sympathetic to her tears, but I was only reminded of her Dad, on that first trip to Nova Scotia. The last night of his visit we decided to buy lobsters and cook them at home. I pulled them out of the box and held them out for Hubby to inspect. The guy seriously jumped and ran away, screaming, "Get it away! Get it away!" I, being the little snot that I am, then chased him with the lobsters while he threw anything available in my direction. And that was the week I discovered about the only thing Hubby is afraid of - live lobsters (he blames his mother). All I could do was giggle with memory as my baby girl cried and cowered in fear.

Yes, I'm still a little snot.

We thought everything would be fine once the lobsters were cooked. I steamed them (do not ever boil your lobsters) for about 12 minutes. The same amount of time the corn was on the grill. I made a salad of green and baby beets from our CSA delivery, with some peaches, basil, and toasted pecans. We sat down to eat and the terror re-emerged. She couldn't stop screaming. Even when we told her she didn't have to have any and that the lobsters were dead. Terrified was the word of dinner. 

Rather than have her tears destroy what should have been a fantastic dinner we put her in her bed and let her read books while the rest of us ate a very lovely, yummy meal. She joined us for a bit of corn and salad. Lucky girl, because then it meant she was allowed dessert. And that was worth setting the fear aside. Ice cream sandwiches made with this lime ice cream and Digestive biscuits. 

Oh, I guess I should clarify that Hubby is no longer afraid of live lobsters, but he would still prefer I don't hold them anywhere near him.

An Abundance of Limes

On a gorgeous weekend not too long ago, Hubby and I indulged in quite a few gin and tonics. We've discovered a new-to-us gin and are rather obsessed with it. The first time I saw it in our local wine store I asked the purveyor what it was good for, meaning martinis or G&T? His response, "Making Babies!"

Well, I can't attest to that at all - she says as she raises another gin and tonic - but I can say that it makes about the finest drink I've had. Aside from those Negronis. If we ever get some heat again the Old Raj is coming back out.

I will, however, need to buy more limes. You see, we got a little gung ho that one warm weekend and bought about a dozen limes. No, we aren't that big of drinkers. We merely forgot we already had them. Yes, we were sober when we were at the store.

With an abundance of limes and a convenient container filled with egg yolks it really did seem that the only option was to make ice cream. Gin and tonic ice cream? Hmm, not too bad of a concept, but my brain could not figure out how to capture the necessary balance of taste with the custard base. Browsing through the books, I came across a recipe for Margarita Ice Cream in Nigella Lawson's Forever Summer.

Um yeah, sign me up. 

This recipe did not disappoint. I was worried it would be too eggy, but all that lime juice really cuts the richness. Overall it is refreshing without being cloying. Smooth but somehow a bit light. It isn't a Margarita - which would have also been a most excellent use for our extra limes - but the hint of tequila is amazing. I did cut back on the amount of alcohol because I knew the girls would be having some ice cream If you swapped out the tequila for a generous splash of vodka you would simply get something akin to Key Lime Pie ice cream.  Hmmm, there might be a frozen pie idea there...

This is the second ice cream recipe I've made with sweetened condensed milk. I must admit, I'm rather fond of it.  I wonder what David Lebovitz would say? It creates a silkiness to the ice cream without overly sweetening it. I'm always afraid it will be too sweet, but it really works well.

Now, I wonder how good this ice cream will taste with the snow we're expecting? Yes, snow. Don't talk to me about it.

Margarita Ice Cream

(Adapted from Nigella Lawson's Forever Summer)

1 1/2 cups whipping cream

6 large egg yolks

300 mL tin of sweetened condensed milk

1/4 cup tequila

splash of Triple Sec, Cointreau, or Grand Marnier

Juice of 6 limes and zest of 1

1. Heat the cream in a heavy saucepan. Slowly whisk it into egg yolks, off the heat.  Once combined, pour back into the saucepan and cook it, stirring, until thickened.  It should coat the back of the spoon.

2. Pour the custard into a clean bowl and let it cool slightly.  Stir in the condensed milk, alcohol, lime juice, and zest. Cover the surface directly with plastic wrap and chill for 4 hours at a minimum.

3. Churn according to your ice cream maker's instructions. Enjoy.