Simple Things

I'm a little behind this week.  In so many ways I am behind, but no one needs to be reminded of my laziness.  Okay, maybe I need to be reminded of it.

Week four of the The Kitchn Cure ended over the weekend.  I was taking advantage of my mother-in-law's house and babysitting to get a break from the mess and exhaustion of having Hubby away.  The girls and I visited family, celebrated birthdays, and even threw a baby shaker for one of our recently arrived nephews.  And halfway through Hubby returned home, then drove another three hours to spend what was left of the weekend with us.  Needless to say, there wasn't a lot of Cure activities going on.

The focus for this week was learning something new and maybe prettying things up a little. Honestly, I had little motivation for new challenges after a week of single parenting.  So rather than try something new I went back to a kitchen staple that I've been ignoring - vinaigrette.  

In my university days I actually used to just put vinegar on my salads.  It must be the Ukrainian in me, but I preferred the tang and tartness of just vinegar.  I did eventually evolve when I discovered good olive oil, and decided not to ration it as an extravagant expense.  In recent years, however, Hubby has reverted back to his favourite Golden Italian and me to Annie's Goddess Dressing.  The real impetus is that I hate dressing a salad only to have leftovers.  You can't have leftover dressed salad, that's nasty and slimy.

Bring back the vinaigrette, I say!  So simple, and actually cheaper than bottled dressing.  Added bonuses include the variety of flavours and controlling the salt and sugar content.  Buy a pretty bottle and leave it on the counter with your oils  (unless you use fresh lemon juice).  Reach for it as those salad greens start poking out of the ground this summer, on grilled veggies, to marinate chicken, or drizzled over strawberries with some black pepper.

There are an infinite number of recipes for vinaigrette.  I've never followed one.  It is really a matter of oil, vinegar, an emulsifier, and seasonings.  The ratio of oil to vinegar that I like is 2/3 oil, 1/3 vinegar.  Traditionally you often see 3/4 and 1/4, but I find that lacking in tartness. Emulsifiers of choice are often mustard or even maple syrup (or both!).  Just a teaspoon or so will work, more if you want a stronger flavour.  And aside from S &P you can add garlic, fresh or dried herbs, a little bit of honey, some fresh fruit puree, or roasted peppers, to name a few. If you are like me - a condiment slut - you have a ridiculous variety of oils and vinegars.  The flavour combinations are endless.  Try balsamic vinegar with maple syrup.  Raspberry vinegar with walnut oil and chopped walnuts.  Garlic, mint, and oregano with red wine vinegar.  Sesame oil and rice wine vinegar with fresh ginger and lime.

And may I add that this was the first time The Monster ate salad dressing on her salad. Seriously, she is a food snob. No bottled dressings, KD, or margarine for her.

Taste Adventure - Fiddleheads

You know those moments when you speak out loud and you probably shouldn't?    Yeah, I had one of those on the weekend.  I'm fighting the crowds with the stroller (I am so one of those stroller people) at the Market, buying some groceries for the week when I see these tiny green spirals between shouts at The Monster to stay by me and making sure Smilosaurus is still buckled in.

"Ooh, fiddleheads!"  It was a moment when the world around you goes silent because you were ridiculously loud, even in a noisy crowd of shoppers.  Uh, sorry.

I first discovered fiddleheads when I lived in Halifax for university.  What was this precious green creature my friend's mom served at Easter dinner?  I'd never seen anything like it.  At that point I was still very picky and didn't eat much in the way of vegetables.  And I'd seen these things when hiking out at Crystal Crescent Beach.  They were edible?  Peer pressure did me in and I devoured the butter covered greenery.  Since that time I've only really had them a handful of times - I do live on the Prairies after all and these are not dry climate growers.

Did you know a fiddlehead is a fern that has just emerged from the ground?  Captured by foraging hands they grace our springtime plates like a harbinger of growth to come.  Steamed or sauteed lightly to be crisp tender they are really the taste of spring to me.  Not asparagus or lamb, but fiddleheads.  So when I saw them at the market I had to gasp, exclaim, and then sigh at the real end of winter (even if it really means the end of winter in BC).

The reviews were mixed in this house.  Smilosaurus will pretty much eat anything these days, but she really liked them. On Tuesday she finally put two and two together and signed "more" at dinner.  Last night she reverted back to a death grip on the high chair with a fixated stare on the food of choice and let loose with an intense growl.  Translation?  "More!"  

The Monster is a little out of sorts with Daddy away so she was grumpy and not feeling very adventurous.  Heck, she didn't want her scrambled eggs.  I left them on her plate, forked and ready to go.  A little more grumbling and she decided to eat one.  Although she pronounced that she did not like fiddleheads, she did eat the rest on her plate.

Preparation of fiddleheads is very simple.  Clean them well under running water or swish them around a bowlful of water to remove any brown bits or dirt.  Trim the ends off.  I simply steam them for a couple of minutes, with a sprinkling of salt to retain the colour.  You can toss them with some butter at this point and eat.  But they are also great tossed in a vinaigrette or quickly sauteed with garlic and olive oil.  That is what I did today and finished it off with a some lemon zest.

I wonder how the girls at the market fared?  In my exclamations I convinced them to try the fiddleheads.  Maybe they were just trying to help me recover from my embarrassment?

The Princess and the Pea Mama

Growing up I never ate lima beans, lamb, or lobster.  I never ate peppers, raw tomatoes, liver, broccoli tops, cauliflower, and peas either.   In the case of the latter, it was because I thought they were disgusting.  I never ate the former items because my mom didn't like them.  If she didn't like them we didn't eat them.  I'm with her on the lima beans, but I sure missed out of lamb and lobster.  Hmm, maybe she just hated food that started with the letter "L"?

I'm doing my damnedest to not do that to the girls.  Of all the foods I hated as I child I now eat almost all of them, except peas.  Peas are seriously the most vile things on the planet.  They stink and they taste like mud.  Eating a pea is akin to popping a bubble filled with mushy sewage.  

Hubby likens me to The Princess and the Pea, except that I can tell that there is one pea in an entire dish of shepherd's pie.  Or that the samosas do indeed come with peas without even opening one.  Okay, the last one is generally a given.  But the foul odour of peas is distinct and I can pick it up despite pastry or potato coverings.

As I said, though, I am trying not to pass on that dislike to the girls.  I plug my nose when I defrost the frozen peas, scrub my hands with smelly soaps when we go pea picking, and make Hubby feed Smilosaurus dinner if peas are on the menu.  So far I've been successful, both girls love peas.  The Monster will eat them fresh or frozen, raw or cooked.  And Smilosaurus practices her pincer grasp at least once a week with a bowl full of peas.  Good for them.  

But they better not ask me to make split pea soup, ever.

Was It Really Worth It?

Some things are just more trouble than they're worth. I now put homemade ketchup in that category, along with transplanting houseplants you already hate, arguing with a toddler over green socks versus white ones, and trying to keep the dog hair off the new couch. Is it better than your bottle of Heinz? Hell yeah, but it still isn't worth the expense or the effort.

I blame you, Jamie Oliver. You and your ridiculous enthusiasm for gardening, food, and making sure people eat well. I blame you, Safeway, for having Jamie at Home on sale in the book bin. I blame you, Calgary weather, for making sure I had loads of tomatoes ripening in stages on my kitchen counter in September and defeating my efforts to make a large batch of tomatoe sauce. I even blame the Monster - just a tiny bit - for having the common desire of any toddler to dip everything in ketchup. In that case, I blame you, Hubby, for fueling that desire in her by never growing up yourself.

Ultimately, however, I have to blame Michael Pollan. He and the Slow Food folks are encouraging me to reduce the amount of processed foods coming into the house. We go through a lot of ketchup and I thought I was being a good mom/wife by introducing another homemade staple.

The recipe* itself was time-consuming, but not difficult. The toughest part was reading through the Jamie Oliver style of recipe writing. And there were a ridiculous number of ingredients! Who knew?

So I spent an afternoon chopping, simmering, reducing, and pureeing. The house smelled wonderful. Two pounds of tomatoes and I got little more than 1 bottle of ketchup. Then the Monster decided that she liked mustard better. Seriously, every time I tried to serve it to her she cried for mustard instead.

Now the ketchup sits in the fridge. This is good stuff. I can't wait to try it on Hubby's famous hamburgers. For now, and post root canal, I will savour it on some scrambly eggs. But next time I'm just making tomatoe sauce.

*Let me know if you want the recipe and don't have the book. I followed it exactly so I won't repeat it here.