Don't Judge Me

I refuse to give up yet.  Despite the fact that we nearly had frost the last two nights here in the city, despite the fact that it is already dark when the girls go the bed and the sun was almost eerily autumn-like at the park today, and despite the fact that yes, the leaves are starting to fall off the tree I refuse to accept than summer is over.  At least when it comes to my food.  So I'm still eating peaches and watermelon. I will grill burgers until my fingers freeze.  And I will still serve my kids ice cream for dinner.

We picked up this watermelon on the weekend.  With rind so dark that it looked like it was buried in the forest when it grew. And when we cut it open it was sweet and seedy.  I actually had to look it up, but did you know that a watermelon is in the same family as squashes and gourds?  The cut fruit reminded me of a squash, with ropy strands of flesh combining in a pulpy mass of seeds in the center of the fruit.  We scooped out the seeds rather than cut around them and were left with an inch of the most watermelon tasting watermelon I've ever had. I'm kicking myself that I didn't take note of the variety.

Aside from cutting slices and eating the watermelon straight - which the girls love - I prepared this watermelon the easiest way I know.  I made a milkshake.  Yeah, I said it, a watermelon milkshake.

In my house growing up we had the choice of two summer desserts - a raspberry milkshake and a watermelon milkshake. (Maybe a banana one if there happened to be a banana left behind in a house of three competitive swimmers.) Watermelon milkshakes were my personal favourite. Yet, whenever I mentioned it to friends they all got grossed out.  Like seriously grossed out.  I never understood that. What's wrong with creamy watermelon?  And really, that's what a watermelon milkshake tastes like. And there is nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with that.

It turns out the palest of pink.  A mix of equal parts watermelon puree and vanilla ice cream. That's it. Resist the urge to add more ice cream to make a thick milkshake, you will lose the balance of sweetness and fresh taste from the watermelon.

Oh yeah, and I fed it to my kids for dinner tonight.  Sadly, they only had a few sips and moved on to bread and baked beans.

A Perfect First Date

Do you remember when you were 16 and you finally got that guy you loved FOREVER to notice you and suddenly you were agreeing to go to the movies, without either of your parents driving you?  The excitement, the knots in your stomach, the agony over what exactly to wear?  And then a zit that appeared on your face the night before.

Or what about the first time your mother-in-law came over for dinner?  The fretting over the right menu, timing your dishes so that nothing was cold, and obsessing over whether the house was just clean enough? And then the dog upturns a plant and you have dirt everywhere.

Now, imagine that you've invited over two major foodies and fantastic writers. Oh yeah, and they're bloggers too and you know that they're going to write about and photograph what you made for dinner. Nope, no pressure there.Friday night we hosted Julie and her gang from Dinner with from Dinner with Julie and Aimée and her family from Under the High Chair. Seriously, no pressure whatsoever.

The Menu:

Watermelon and Jicama Sticks with Chili Salt

Hubby' Famous Arkison Burgers

Grilled Avocado and Corn Salad with Smoky Caesar Dressing

Buffalo Hot Dogs

Grilled Peaches with Sour Cream Ice Cream

Cherry Hand Pies

It seemed like a pretty stress free menu. Or so I thought.

Since Julie did such a good job of summarizing our evening together - although she forgot the part where Danny, Aimée's husband took out Willem, Julie and Mike's son - I thought I would highlight the prep.  The nerve-wracking everything going wrong prep for when two major foodie bloggers stop by for Friday night dinner.

Let's start with dessert, because that's what I worked on first.  I lucked into some sour cherries at the market last week, so pie was definitely called for.  The Monster and I tucked into pitting the cherries while Smilosaurus had her last official morning nap. Sour cherries are ridiculously easy to pit, no tool required.  We just put our thumbs on either side of the pit and pulled the cherry apart.  Well, that's what I did.  The Monster apparently would start by biting off half the cherry, then picking out the pit.  And, ever helpful, she would put both halves of the cherry in the bowl.  So, in case I forgot to mention it on Friday night, the cherry pie had a little something extra in it.

Then there was the ice cream.  Sour Cream Ice Cream. I was brave and the three of us girls went off to get our groceries.  Sour cream? Check.  Half and half? Check. Heavy cream? Check. Frozen ice cream canister? Check. Blender? Check?

Coordination and space in the fridge?  Uh, no. I dropped the blender on the floor as I was trying to fit it in between a case of beers and some herbs.  It went everywhere! In fact, looking at that picture I realize that I still need to clean the sideboard.

The dogs had a field day cleaning the floor and The Monster cried for a half hour straight. Nothing but tears, nay, wailing, over spilled ice cream.  Thankfully Hubby came home in the middle of her crying so I could run out and buy more sour cream while she cried herself to sleep.
I also ran out to the market while the girls slept to pick up the corn, avocado, lettuce, beef, and the rest of our groceries for the week.  While unpacking I realized that of everything I picked up I forgot to buy peaches.  So, no grilled peaches for dessert. Sigh.

Instead I set to making the pies and getting everything else ready.  I had my pate brisee cold in the fridge. It rolled out wonderfully and I made my pies.  Then I went outside to get the yard a little bit in order.  And promptly forgot about the first tray of pies. I saved them from complete destruction.  And Julie even said she loved the idea of the juices oozing out of their pastry hold. I still scolded her for taking a picture of it. We just picked the really crispy bits off the edges.

Finally, and this was by no means a disaster, I ran out of ketchup. No ketchup is not cause for alarm, but I am firmly in the camp that burgers need ketchup. I was also anticipating toddler meltdown if their was no ketchup for the hot dogs. Just as I prepared to call my neighbour who is stocked for the war (I call her my emergency pantry) I remembered a bottle of homemade ketchup in the cold storage. And the reviews were so positive - except from my kid - that I might consider the effort again.

All was not horrible.  Indeed, some things went ridiculously well.  I made the chili salt for the watermelon and jicama sticks with my secret stash of dried chili from Baja.  I simple threw a handful of chili in a non-reactive frying pan with a clove of garlic.  Let it heat up until I could really smell the chili heat.  Then I blitzed the whole thing in a food processor with a little less than a cup of kosher salt. I think we all preferred it with the watermelon, and I'm pretty sure it would be good on mango too. Hubby and I thought that maybe the leftover salt would be good on some grilled chicken, but not too much.

Then there were the burgers.  Oh, the burgers.  These are the spec-i-al-ity of my Hubby, Morgan. I once made the mistake of raving over a burger in a seaside shack in Digby, Nova Scotia as the best burger I ever had.  I swear that if I hadn't recanted the statement right then and there we never would have married.

There's nothing special to the burgers.  Just good quality ground beef, lean ground beef.  Don't try to be healthy and by extra lean, your burgers will be dry. Lately we've been making them from Hoven Farms beef.  Very flavourful.  So take your beef and form it into a patty, preferably a large patty. Do not season the beef, don't add eggs or bread crumbs.  This is pure beef. Now you know why I only served a green salad on the side.

After a liberal dosing in CattleBoyz BBQ Sauce he cooks them slowly on the grill.  They stay juicy, they get a great crust, and they are perfection. Meaty, so juicy they drip off your wrists perfection.

So the floor was still sticky, the lawn never got mowed, and I highly doubt I made The Monster's bed after her nap.  Oh, and I did indeed have a brand new zit to greet our guests. None of that really matters if everyone is well fed and the company good.

The night was really as good as it gets when you've got 6 tired adults (long drives, gout, sleepless nights, and working too much) and 5 kids under the age of 4 to keep track of.  Note to self: build gates for the fence. We photographed our food more than our kids, we chatted and gossiped about other sites we visit, compared horrible neighbours, and we lubricated everything with Prosecco, Moscato, and beer.  It would have been lovely to sit leisurely around the firepit and actually have some girl talk among us bloggers, but sadly the Hubby's wanted our help with the kids. I think Julie and I might have to plan a weekend in Montreal, sans kids, to get that!

Make sure you check our Julie's review of the evening (including the recipe for the sour cream ice cream, and keep an eye on Under the High Chair for all of Aimée's vacation reports. And stay tuned here this week, I will actually share with you the recipe for Cherry Hand Pies.

Ice Cream for Dinner

Some days diets and nutrition are just thrown out the window. When you are young, single, and childless it is pretty damn easy to make a dinner of nachos and beer, or perhaps some chips and dip in front of wrestling on TV (been there). Having kids, though, makes nights like those so much more difficult, yet so necessary.

Gone are the days of pizza on the couch or a bowl of cereal for dinner. I would like to blame an irrational desire to promote nutrition and proper dinner etiquette, but I have to blame The Monster. We tried, more than once, to make it a big treat to have dinner at the coffee table in front of a hockey game or Le Tour de France.  No dice, that kid insists on eating dinner together at the dining room table.  We're lucky she doesn't know anything about white tablecloths and candles. Sure, it is our fault for a general insistence on table manners and enforcement of dinnertime rules. But seriously, can't we relax the rules, just a little?

I did discover a good way to do that - don't even mention it's dinner.  Just sit down on the floor at the coffee table, food in hand.  Let them come to you, begging to try your treat.  Then, don't feed them dinner.

That is how we came to have ice cream for dinner the other night.  Hubby was out of town so it was just me and the girls. I'd had a day, just a long, draining day.  And I wanted to try and get a decent picture of this ice cream before 9 pm.  Since the ice cream was all soft (too soft) and I didn't want to freeze it again, I scooped it all in one bowl, parked in front of Le Tour, and we ate ice cream for dinner.  And damn, it felt good.

Strawberry ice cream with a rhubarb swirl.  If one felt so inclined a sprinkling of granola on top would make it the ice cream interpretation of a strawberry rhubarb crisp.  But I wanted smooth, creamy, tangy, and sweet.  And this delivered.

The ice cream was made with the custard base I've developed and quite like - creamy and thick without being eggy. I macerated, then pureed strawberries. Then added a swirl of stewed rhubarb before it was placed in the freezer.  

Just a note on the rhubarb.  The picture below shows two different versions of stewed rhubarb, made exactly the same way.  One was with pretty much green stalks, one with very red stalks. There was pretty much no difference in taste. The only difference is cosmetic. I saved the brown stuff for a topping for oatmeal and yogurt, and used the pink stuff in the ice cream.

   

Strawberry Ice Cream with a Rhubarb Swirl

Makes about 5-6 cups

2 cups half and half cream

1 cup heavy (whipping) cream

1 cup milk

1/2 a vanilla bean, split

3 egg yolks

2 cups cleaned, hulled strawberries

1 cup sugar, divided

1 cup chopped rhubarb

2 tablespoons brown sugar

1 tablespoon water

Splash of vodka

1. Combine creams, milk, vanilla bean, and 1/2 cup sugar in a heavy saucepan.  Heat while stirring, but do not scald or boil.  Whip egg yolks in small bowl.  Slowly pour 1/2 cup of warm cream/milk mixture into eggs, whisking constantly.  Pour eggs/cream/milk mixture back into the remaining cream/milk mixture.  Heat, stirring constantly until custard is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon (5-10 minutes).  Remove from heat, pour through a sieve into a clean bowl, cover with plastic wrap directly on the surface of the custard, and refrigerate for 4 hours or overnight.

2.  While custard is cooling slice the strawberries and macerate in the remaining 1/2 cup of sugar.  Just before you want to make the ice cream blitz the strawberries with a food processor of mash well with a fork.

3. Make your stewed rhubarb.  Combine rhubarb, brown sugar, and water in a small saucepan. Set on medium heat to cook.  Stir occasionally while the mixture cooks down.  After a few minutes the rhubarb will be almost broken down and the sauce will be thick.  Remove from heat and cool completely.  Add a splash of vodka just before adding to the ice cream. 

4.  Stir the strawberries into the cooled custard and make ice cream according to your ice cream maker's instructions.

5. When your ice cream is done, place half in a container for the freezer.  Dollop half of the cooled rhubarb over the ice cream.  Scoop over the remaining ice cream, top with dollops of the remaining rhubarb.  Quickly run a knife through the ice cream to swirl the rhubarb.  Place some plastic wrap directly on the surface of the ice cream and freeze until firm. 

Passion Fruit Take 2

After the first disaster with passion fruit I wasn't willing to give up on my family.  Dammit, they were going to like these things!   Considering that it was the seeds that turned off both The Monster and Hubby I knew I need to do something with just the juice.  The novelty of cracking the fruits on the counter just wasn't enough to carry them through the visual.  That left out Nigella's famous passion fruit pavlova.  But everything tastes better as ice cream.  Well, except for that weird savoury ice cream they were always making on the original Iron Chef.

Another trip to More Than Mangos yielded some of the same orange passion fruit and the little purple ones.  Crack 'em open and the orange ones have pale pulp and the purple ones have orange pulp.  Go figure.

We had family in town over the weekend and my 6 year old nephew came in the kitchen to help me make this ice cream. He gleefully smashed the passion fruit, nearly gagged when he saw the insides, and bravely tried a small slurp of the seedy pulp. He admitted that it tasted good, but politely declined any more. Oh, and he was happy to devour a bowl of the ice cream before they left for the night, not so generously sharing with his parents.

A little research and some searching through my own recipe archives and I arrived at a recipe that I thought would work.  I made it once, and then again.  Yeah, it's good.  In case the above photo didn't tip you off, this is no plain passion fruit sorbet.  This is rich, subtly sweet ice cream with bits of meringue in it, passion fruit pavlova ice cream.  The ice cream has the subtle flavour of the passion fruit, with a hint of vanilla.  But it is thick and creamy, reminding you of the whipped cream.  And the bits of meringue introduce a softer texture that disappears as the ice cream melts on your tongue.  Just writing about it now is making me very happy that there is a bit left in the freezer for a before bed snack, if I can keep The Monster successfully diverted with cookies and bed-jumping.

In fact, putting meringues in ice cream is an ingenious idea.  You use the egg yolks for the ice cream's custard base and make the meringues with the egg whites.  No waste, and some extra meringues for nibbling on while your custard chills.

I used a recipe that I found on Orangette.  Hers calls for the addition of cocoa nibs.  While good, I would leave those out for this recipe.  I used my leftover three egg whites, spooned out about 12 good sized clouds, and baked them while I made my custard.  Once cooled completely I froze them.  The texture doesn't change tremendously, but it does help when breaking them into small pieces to put in the ice cream.  Try to be conscious of the colour of your meringues.  It doesn't really matter, but the subtle contrast in the finished ice cream is a nice touch.  Plus, it helps when you are feeding the baby who can't eat egg whites the ice cream and you can see the meringues.

Passion Fruit Pavlova Ice Cream

Meringues

1 Tbsp cornstarch

3/4 cup white sugar

3 egg whites at room temperature

1/4 tsp cream of tartar

pinch of salt

1.  Preheat the oven to 275 degrees C.  Line a large cookie sheet with Silpat or parchment.

2.  Mix the cornstarch and the sugar together.  Set aside.

3. Whip the egg whites, cream of tartar, and salt together in a heavy duty mixer.  Beat until bubbles are small and uniform and soft peaks are starting to form, a couple of minutes.

4.  Gradually add the sugar and cornstarch, a little bit at a time.  Continue whipping until stiff peaks form and the mixture is very glossy.

5.  Spoon the egg whites into circles about 2-3 inches wide on a cookie sheet.  You should have enough for about 12-14 individual meringues.  Push down each meringue in the centre with the back of a tablespoon.

6.  Bake for 20-30 minutes.  Rotate your pan and watch that the meringues don't take on too much colour.  If they are turning golden turn down your oven temperature.  Finished meringues should be crisp and dry.  Cool completely on the pan before turning out on to a wire rack.

7.  Place half the meringues in the freezer for at least 4 hours before using.  Enjoy the rest as sweet treats.

Ice Cream

4-8 passion fruits - you need about 1/2 cup juice

2 cups half and half cream

1 cup whipping cream

1 cup milk

1 cup sugar

pinch of salt

1 inch piece of vanilla bean, split, but not scraped

3 egg yolks

Splash of vodka, rum, or passion fruit liquor

1.  In a heavy saucepan whisk together the creams, milk, sugar, and salt.  Over medium heat bring to a simmer.  Toss in the vanilla bean while heating.

2.  Whisk the egg yolks.  Add about a cup of cream to the yolks, whisking vigorously.  Then stir the egg mixture into the cream.  Continue to cook, whisking continuously, until the custard is thick and coats the back of a spoon.

3.  Strain the custard into a clean bowl.  Place plastic wrap directly on the surface of the custard and refrigerate for at least 4 hours or over night.

4.  Take your passion fruits and find the closest child with a bit of strength or energy.  Get the kid to smack the passion fruit on the counter in order to crack it open.  Scoop the pulp into a wire mesh strainer and stir with a tablespoon to force the liquid through the strainer.  Chill 1/2 cup juice until you are ready to freeze the ice cream.

5.  When the custard is cold, make ice cream according to your appliance's directions.  When the ice cream is done, just before you turn off the machine, add the passion fruit juice and the splash of liquor.  

6.  While the ice cream is churning chop your frozen meringues.  They will still be somewhat soft, so be gentle.  Resist the urge to tear them apart because you will merely squish them down.

7.  Pour your ice cream in to a plastic container for freezing.  Fold in the chopped meringue. Cover with plastic wrap and the container's cover.  Freeze for a minimum of a two hours before serving.