brunch

One Year

I can usually hear the footsteps the second the feet hit the ground. A tiny body sliding out of her giant bed, stepping around the dog sleeping on the floor, blankets and Tiger in hand. She sometimes opens the blinds, the creak of the roller a dead giveaway, just to make sure it's morning. Then she stomps down the hall. It sounds like stomping, even though she barely weighs 30 pounds. Her hand grasps the knob on the door to my room. A short turn and she peeks in. If she sees me awake she quickly pops in the room, slams the door behind her, props her crap on the bed, and climbs in.


She usually doesn't say a word. Not until she is settled and snuggled beside me. Her face is glowing with a morning smile and she practically purrs with delight. We lay like that for a what is probably only seconds. Then she pops her head up.


"Mama, can we bake today?"




*******


One year ago I marked my first day as a stay at home parent. My husband left for work, to return more or less almost 4 months later. I was thrust into the role of full-time parent with no regular paycheque. It was an initiation, almost hazing, that no college student would ever survive. 24 hours a day, alone, with my kids.


Being home with my kids was never a reality I imagined. I was going to either save the world or make a lot of money working hard. For a while I thought I could combine the two. Then these little creatures emerged, growing with me, and encouraging a sense of self I never knew was there. Our family changed and the needs of the whole outweighed my desire to save the world. Instead I needed to work on just saving us.


So, here I am. A year in. Much calmer now - most days - and still working on keeping us all sane. I've had to revise my own expectations about what can be achieved by the family and by me, in our time. I've also blown apart my own thoughts about the pleasure this would bring me and the peace it gives my husband. I still wonder what the hell I'm doing and I don't love it every day. But I like it. A lot.


In this past year I've developed a whole new relationship with the girls, worked to define this new thing with my husband, and searched for a balance to my own desires and goals. It's been HARD. And that's not counting the disappointments, struggles, grief, and disorder that the last year also brought.


And I wouldn't change a thing. As hard as this life is, it is better. Much, much better.


*******


Peach pie, lemon cupcakes, muffins, scones, cookies, bread... We're baking it all. Practically something new every day.


The Monster isn't as thrilled with being in the kitchen as she used to be. If there is the prospect of chocolate she will join us. Otherwise, The Evil Genius pulls up her bright orange chair, rifles through the cupboard for her apron, and says to me, "So, what should we bake today, Chef?"


With the Monster starting Kindergarten this morning I see even more baking in my future. That kid will have the best snacks in her heart covered backpack. Full of love and most likely chocolate.






Nectarine, White Chocolate and Cardamom Scones
(adapted from the basic English Cream Scone recipe in the original Five Roses Flour cookbook)
Makes 16-18 kid-size scones


1 nectarine, chopped into 1/2'' chunks
3 ounces white chocolate, roughly chopped
2 cups flour (you can mix whole wheat with regular, but don't go 100% whole wheat)
1 tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp ground cardamom
1/4 cup cold butter
2 eggs
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 tbsp sugar


Preheat oven to 450 degrees F. Line a cookie sheet with parchment or a silicon mat.


Make sure your nectarine and white chocolate are chopped. Set aside.


Combine the flour, baking powder, salt, and cardamom in a large bowl. Cut the butter into the flour. Frankly, we use our hands. 3 years olds are very, very good at this. You could also use a pastry cutter. Stir in the nectarine and white chocolate


Reserve 1 tbsp of egg whites in a small bowl, then beat the eggs with the cream. Add to the dry ingredients and mix well. The dough will be wet and sticky. Drop by heaping spoonfuls onto your prepared baking sheet. Leave 1'' between scones.


Brush the tops with reserved egg white and sprinkle with the sugar. Bake for 10-13 minutes until lightly golden.


Asparagus, Dill, and Feta Quiche



Eggs are always a go-to meal in our house. We always have an abundance from our biweekly delivery from Elmar, the Eggman. With asparagus at its peak right now the two ingredients combine well for a great, easy family dinner. This crustless quiche is perfect for a weeknight dinner or weekend brunch

While asparagus has a unique flavour, it is a mild green taste. That means it pairs well with so many other flavours. You could turn this into nearly any other flavour combination. Try asparagus with lemon, parmesan, and pancetta, or tomatoes and provolone. Perhaps cheddar, ham, and green onions with the asparagus. Or salmon and lemon. This time around I chose feta and dill, family favourites in my house.


Asparagus, Feta, and Dill Crustless Quiche
Serves 6-8 as a main course

1 tbsp butter
1/2 cup bread crumbs
1/2 bunch of asparagus
8 eggs
1 cup milk
1 tbsp chopped fresh dill
1 cup crumbled feta

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.
2. Butter a deep dish pie plate. Toss the bread crumbs into the plate and roll around to cover the sides. Pat in an errant crumbs.
3. Clean and chop the asparagus into 1 inch pieces. Place in a small pot, season with salt, and add about 1 inch of water. Cook on high heat, covered, for 1-2 minutes. Drain immediately. Pour into a bowl and leave uncovered while you prepare the rest of the quiche.
4. Crack the eggs into a large bowl. Add the milk and whisk well. Season with pepper, a little bit of salt (the feta is salty, so you don't have to add that much). Add the 1/2 cup feta, dill, and the asparagus. Pour into prepared pie plate. Top with remaining feta.
5. Bake for 40-45 min until the top is puffy and golden. Let cool for 5 minutes before you serve.

A Run-In, With Eggs

Every now and then you have one of those eerie, weird run-ins with your past. The kind that remind you of just how far you've come in life and how happy you are with that journey. And sometimes you just run into a friend's ex girlfriend.

Sunday morning I gave the girls their bread with butter and honey. That wasn't going to cut it for me. I was also facing a surfeit of eggs. Instead of my usual scrambled eggs with salsa I pulled out a memory from our long ago partying days. We still lived in Edmonton and would drive down to Calgary on a regular basis to go out drinking with friends. For a while there we would stay at the house of our friend's girlfriend. One morning she made us these scrambled eggs.

They were the best scrambled eggs ever.

Normally I shun from such platitudes that involve the expression best ever. More than once I've been disappointed. But I've been more frequently disappointed with bad scrambled eggs.


A's technique was also very simple and perfect for lazy, hungover people. Now, as I'm older and wholly unable to manage a hangover, it is still perfect. Perfect for lazy mornings while the girls sit, mesmerized by Cat in the Hat, and I sip tea. Perfect for long brunches with friends or little girls.

Eggs and butter on low heat. Stir a lot. Cook very slowly. Eat the creamiest scrambled eggs ever.

Now that I'm kind of getting the hang of the single parenting thing I can, without too much stress, take two highly energetic and dramatic girls to the farmers' market by myself. This week we faced our usual challenges of impatience and spilled drinks. But we also embraced the energy of the bouncy castle, meeting an Olympian, loading up on Honeycrisp apples and brussels sprouts, and dancing like maniacs to the buskers. There my kids were, one moving her hips like a 4 year old shouldn't and the other nuzzled into me because it was past naptime, when A walks by.

The same A that showed me how to make those scrambled eggs. We haven't seen each other in at least 5 years. The relationship with our friend long since ended and our two kids later, it was a somewhat shocking reunion. We chatted and shared a quick story or two. I found myself only mildly freaked out by seeing my history and my past all together there. Mostly I found that I was proud of where I was - a mom with a hardworking husband and my crazy kids. Pleased that I wasn't waking up hungover in a sort of stranger's townhouse anymore, but by two kids bounding in to cry about bad dreams and lost blankies and could I please turn on their shows?

I never told her that I'd made her eggs just that morning.


The Maybe Almost Best Scrambled Eggs Ever
Serves how ever many you want, just multiply the recipe accordingly. Your cooking time will increase with more eggs and you may want to use a pot accordingly sized to the eggs you use.

1 tbsp butter
3 eggs
salt and pepper

1. In a small saucepan on low heat melt the butter. As soon as it is melted crack in your eggs. Stir well with a fork to beat the eggs well.
2. Cook over low heat, stirring quite frequently with the fork. Total cook time may take anywhere from 20-30 minutes.
3. Season with salt and pepper.
4. Optional - top with sauteed mushrooms, greens, or slow roasted tomatoes, if desired. Just please don't top with ketchup.

No line-ups

It's Stampede Week in Calgary. That means the locals and tourists alike are dressed in their ugliest Western wear and worn once a year cowboy boots. If you are under the drinking age you've eaten too much sugar. If you are close to or over the drinking age you've likely drank far too much. Maybe you actually went to the Rodeo or the Chuckwagon Races. Maybe. But most definitely you've eaten pancakes at some point this week.

A long standing Stampede tradition  is the pancake breakfast. Nearly every church, business, mall, and charity seems to have a pancake breakfast during the 10 days of Stampede. You could literally eat your way across the city in carbs. You might be lucky and get a strip of bacon embedded in your pancake, but no syrup. Or you might get fantastic Indian food on the side. But 99% of the time you are going to get a flat, insipid pancake. And only after standing in line being jostled by the impatient and hungover.

It is my personal mission to keep the girls from knowing Stampede even exists for as long as possible. This means I can avoid early mornings to beat the crowds at the Parade, the expense and crowds of the midway, the crowds of people dressed badly, and the inevitable questions about why that girl has no shirt on and can I take mine off too?

Call me a spoil sport. Tell me I have bad civic pride (I wasn't raised here, I'm allowed to judge - I'm from Edmonton after all). Heck, you can even call me a mean mom. I'll take it. And then I will turn around and make my girls pancakes at home - with real maple syrup and no crowds.

There is a mystique around pancakes. It is quite easy to make them well, yet there is a proliferation of bad pancakes in the world. This is the basic recipe, the one you make for dinner when you have no energy, the one you make for a weekday breakfast, the one you dress up with blueberries and rainbow sprinkles for Sunday brunch. You can easily swap out half the flour with whole wheat, change the sugar to brown, and use whatever kind of milk you have on hand. They will be golden and fluffy every time.

Easiest Pancakes Ever

Makes 1 dozen medium sized pancakes

1 cup flour
2 tbsp sugar
1 heaping tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 tbsp melted butter
1 egg
1 cup milk

1. Mix together dry ingredients.
2. Mix together melted butter with milk and egg. Add to dry ingredients and whisk well. Let it sit while you heat up your frying pan.
3. Heat frying pan on medium-low heat. You should be able to hold your hand over the pan for at least 5 seconds without it being too hot. Spray the pan with oil, non-stick spray, or melt some butter. 
4. Spoon batter into hot pan into desired pancake size. Then leave them alone until the bubbles that form on the surface start to pop. Flip them over and cook for another 1-2 minutes.
5. Serve with soft butter and maple syrup. Or jam, or fruit, or any syrup of choice.

Babka is a Family Affair



It's only fitting that I felt compelled to make Babka on the day of the bake sale at my parents' church. They would have sold Babka by the hundreds there. Not surprising since every single recipe I had seemed to make enough to feed an entire Ukrainian village. 10 eggs! 3 packages of yeast! 10 cups of flour! Oi vey.

So I did what any good Ukrainian would do. I called my mom. Unfortunately, she was at that bakesale, but my dad totally came through for me. He referred me to another cookbook in the family collection, where we found a recipe that could easily be adapted for a normal family size. And he said it looked a lot like the Babka that he was familiar with.

Did I mention that I've never made Babka before?

Traditionally served at Easter, and part of the required items in the Easter basket to be blessed at church, Babka is a sweet, eggy bread. Our family likes our studded with raisins or currants. A lot of descriptions  online call it something between a cake and a bread. Not so in my world. I always think of Babka as a sweet, rich bread, baked tall and best with creamy butter. Keep your cinnamon and chocolate and your Jerry Seinfeld, Babka is for spring, with a touch of citrus.

So the girls and I gathered our ingredients, put on our aprons, and set about to make a big giant mess. The good thing about making Babka is that it needs a lot of eggs, perfect for little hands. And what gorgeous little hands. I adore watching my girls' attack dough in their attempts to knead it. The Monster even has the push - turn - fold technique down now. And so long as we can keep Smilosaurus from snitching bits of raw dough we end up with a nice piece set to rise. And rise. And rise again. Be forewarned, from start to finish this is a full day affair.

This recipe starts out quite wet, what with all those eggs, milk, and a juiced orange. You will have to play with the flour, adding as much as necessary.  Just go slow, adding a few tablespoons at a time. Your dough is ready when it is smooth, aside from the raisins, no longer sticky, and relaxes a little, just a little, when you stop kneading.



Babka is traditionally made into a tall, round loaf. You do this by baking it in cleaned out cleaned tin cans. You could bake it in a loaf pan, but that doesn't seem quite as fun, or traditional. If, like me, you don't have a lot of cans in your house you can ask a neighbour. Failing that, make plans to make sauce later and use the cans from some tinned tomatoes. Just make sure they are washed well. Then buttered quite well. If you are worried about the bread releasing from the can, line it with a strip of parchment paper, and more butter. 

And when you are all done, make sure you call your parents to share your success. Then butter some slices for the next generation and enjoy with tea. Church blessings optional.

Ukrainian Babka
Makes 5 large tin size loaves, more or less depending on the size of container

1 tsp  plus 1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup warm water
1 package Active Dry Yeast
3 whole eggs
5 egg yolks
1/2 cup melted butter
1 cup warm milk
1 tsp salt
1 orange, zested and juiced
1 tsp vanilla
4-5 cups flour
1 cup golden raisins or currants
1 egg, beaten

1. Dissolve 1 tsp sugar in warm water.  Add yeast and let stand 10 minutes.
2. Soak raisins in warm water. Drain well.
3. Beat eggs and yolks until light - 4 minutes with stand mixer, about 8 minutes by hand. Stir in remaining sugar and beat 30 seconds more. Add melted butter, milk, salt, orange juice and zest, and vanilla. Mix well.
4. Mix the wet ingredients to the 4 cups flour in a large bowl. Mix together well.  Add flour, if necessary, 1/4 cup at a time until you get a wet dough. 
5. Turn out onto a floured countertop and knead.  Add flour in small bits until the dough is smooth.  Knead for 4 minutes or so. In two batches knead the drained raisins into the dough. Knead until the dough is smooth and elastic. Place in a clean, buttered bowl, rub a bit more butter on the dough and set in a warm, draft-free spot to rise.
6. Let rise until double in size.  Punch down and let rise again.
7. Butter cleaned tins, dish, or pans. If preferred, line with a strip of parchment paper, then butter that as well. Form dough into balls that will fill container of choice to 1/3. Place in container and let rise again.
8. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Brush the tops of the babka with beaten egg.  Bake for 20-30 minutes, depending on the size of your container. It should be nicely browned and have a hollow sound when you tap it.

More Confessions

The very nature of a blog is part confessional.  It's time for me to 'fess up.  I've never been able to make Rice Krispie Squares.   Yup, the laziest, kid friendly treat and I've never been able to make them properly.   If you want rocks filled with rice cereal then I'm your girl.  That is, until last week.  

My mom loves to make them for the grandkids and thus The Monster was asking for them.  It hurt a little, but only a little, to buy the marshmallows and boxed cereal.  I try to limit the processed food in the house, but I have to stop beating myself up for a few little treats. Besides, it is great dessert time fun for us to throw mini marshmallows across the table in an attempt to score one in a waiting, open mouth. 

And ultimately, score one for this mom - I've finally mastered the Rice Krispie square.  My mom told me to add a bit more marshmallows than the recipe calls for and to take it off the heat as soon as those fluffy bits of corn syrup melt.  It worked.  Squares that stayed together but weren't like rocks.  Oh, and The Monster was happy.  So happy.  Such simple pleasures.

I'm all for treats and baking. I have no qualms with them having too much sugar, they actually self-regulate pretty well.  But I didn't want the cereal hanging around, constantly teasing her and inviting the ceaseless begging of a nearly three-year old.

Then I recalled a recipe that I saw from my favourite bow-tie wearing baldy, Christopher Kimball. Have I mentioned my geek crush on him before?  I'm sure I have.  He's so damn nerdy and cute. I digress.  I remembered America's Test Kitchen doing a bit on perfect, crispy waffles. Guess what the secret ingredient was?  Hell yeah, Rice Krispies!  A perfect use for the cereal.

The recipe uses cornstarch to help lighten the batter.  Whipping the egg whites separately is not a new notion in waffle recipes, but the combination of the cornstarch, whipped whites, and cereal makes a very light batter.  The cereal essentially melts, leaving pockets of crispy throughout the cooked waffle.  I've changed the recipe a bit, adding some whole wheat flour to make myself feel better.  And I prefer brown sugar for the extra flavour, but it works perfectly well with white sugar too. 

We've now made the waffles a few times.  After so many attempts to find a light waffle that doesn't turn into a brick the second it comes out of the waffle iron I've finally found one. Seriously, these are crispy, light, and perfect for toaster leftovers.  I can make a batch on Sunday morning and the girls have a few breakfasts during the week. This is a great week for mom - dinnertime laughs, afternoon treats, and pre-made breakfasts.  And all from a box of cereal.

Perfect Waffles
(Adapted from America's Test Kitchen)

1 cup unbleached flour
1/4 cup whole wheat flour
1 cup Rice Krispie cereal
3/4 cup cornstarch
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs, separated
1 1/2 cups milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 cup canola oil

1.  Preheat a waffle iron.
2.  Mix dry ingredients together in a large bowl.  Whisk the egg yolks, milk, oil, and vanilla together in a medium bowl.
3.  Beat the egg whites with a wire whisk or electric mixer until soft peaks form.  Pour the wet ingredients into the dry. Stir until just combined.  Fold in the whites gently.  Do not overmix.
4. Cook according the instructions with your waffle maker.

Is It Over Yet?

Yes, Easter is over.  Passover too.  And soon enough the week will be done.  Stick a fork in me, because I am definitely done.

We always try to get through the beginning of April/Easter without any major calamities. We've had babies born at our wedding, our baby nearly arriving 9 weeks early, that baby then being hospitalized, asthma attacks, and various minor things like cars lighting on fire at this time of year.  A few minor hiccups last week, but we were doing great and no hospital visits in sight.  Then, on Monday morning I walked into a door.  And broke my nose.

Thankfully it is no big deal and other than some swelling I don't look too beat up.  There was no emergency room visit, so that's progress.  

By the time 5 o'clock rolls around my face is throbbing and I just can't deal with making dinner. Today I attempted to deal with my overflowing fridge and get something together.  The most I could muster was dealing with the leftover dyed eggs.  Most of them were cracked from the manhandling The Monster gave them.  And there were a lot!  We could have been eating egg salad sandwiches all week.  Instead I thought we could indulge on one of Hubby's favourites: deviled eggs.

Truth be told, Hubby loves himself a boiled egg, no matter what form it comes in.  Dippy eggs with toast points.  A half dozen hard boiled eggs as a post-hockey snack - yes, I said 6 eggs as a snack.  And even the traditional potluck deviled egg with its sprinkling of unnecessary paprika. The most requested form however, is the curried deviled egg.   And yes, we could eat these for dinner.  Okay, we might make a salad to round out the meal.  Maybe.

I make these for every barbeque we have.  I made them for my brother- and sister-in-law's wedding.  And my other brother-in-law asks for these almost more than he asks for pie.

For every iteration on the deviled egg theme there will be lovers and haters.  My brother, for example, makes wasabi deviled eggs.  I'm not that much of a fan.  And I could take or leave the traditional variety too.  But add some mango chutney and curry powder and you will see me hoovering a plate faster than anyone could sprinkle paprika.  Maybe you'll hate these, but then I would think there is something wrong with you.  And if deviled eggs aren't your thing, add a touch more mayo, chop up the whites, and make an egg salad sandwich.

Curried Deviled Eggs
Makes 12 servings

6 hard boiled eggs, sliced in half lengthwise
2 TBSP mayonnaise
1 TBSP mango chutney
1 tsp curry powder
Salt and Pepper

1.  Scoop out the yolks and place in a bowl.  Set aside the whites.
2.  Mash the yolks together with the mayonnaise, chutney, and curry powder.  Season to taste.
3. Spoon the yolk mixture back into the egg whites.  Garnish with a slice of mango.

Backseat Adventure - Family Day in Banff

It's been a few weeks since we took a day off and headed a little West to Banff.  But we were talking about brunch and Hubby informed me that he would forgo any brunch in the city to drive to Banff for brunch.  All I have to say is "Be careful what you wish for..."

It was a strong desire for a change of scenery and the promise of a soak in the Hot Springs that took us to Banff.  We will head to the mountains to hike or bike, but we don't usually go in to Banff.  To be honest, we avoid it.  Do you remember that scene at the end of The Truman Show, where they hit the edge of the set?  That's what I feel like when I go in to the Banff townsite.  A wonderfully idyllic setting that seems too pretty to be real.  Really, just a mall with a fantastic ceiling.    This particular day we just wanted brunch, candy, and a soak.  Call it the urban adventure to the Rockies.

We paid our national park entrance fee, parked on one of the empty spots off Banff Avenue, and wandered, nose to the ground, for some eggs benedict.  Then talk about some fantastic friggin' luck.  We cut down a side street to check out a bakery.  Hmm, it smelled good but there were no eggs on the menu.  Hubby needs his eggs.  But just down the road we happened upon The Bison Mountain Restaurant and Lounge.  The downstairs is under renovation, but the restaurant was open.  They happily accommodated our stroller and put us in a quiet spot near the kitchen - not to hide us, but so we could see all the action from the open kitchen.  Then the brunch glory began.

Sure, they had a kids menu, but it seemed too safe, too boring, too predictable.  But the french toast sounded yummy, and it came with bacon.  Everything is right in the world if The Monster has bacon.  And some eggs benny that sounded too pretty to be real.  But oh, was it all so real.  Broek Acres Back Bacon with carmelized onions (or maple onion compote, as they called ).  And I had duck confit with fresh cheese curds on my benny.  Hands down, they were both the best eggs benny we've ever had.  And Hubby knows his eggs benny.  Hence the desire to drive there anytime.

The Monster's french toast came stuffed with smoked gouda and bacon, covered in a blueberry sauce and garnished with an apple slaw.  When the waitress brought the plates out she was looking for the third adult at our table.  "Oh no," we told her, "that's for her."  In the end she ate half of the actual toast, most of the blueberries, all of the cheese and bacon, and she split the apples with her sister.  

A little, just a little, walk was required after all that goodness.  Where else to go in Banff when you aren't there to shop?  The candy store, of course!  World famous, Welch's Candy Shop has been an institution for anyone who has ever made their way to the mountains more than once.  As a kid we always went there, even if we were only skiing for a day.  No trip was complete without my brother's wine gums, my sister's jaw breakers, my mom's almond bark, and my macaroons.  As I got older I always managed to sneak a couple of Flakes in the bag too.

The selection might be a bit overwhelming for the neophyte.  Just don't get overcome by the selection of imported treats and various cliche Canadiana candy.  Save your eyes for the large bulk display.  No, it isn't all homemade on site, but that isn't the point.  Just the visit, the sugar smell, and the white paper bag of your treat of choice are what it's all about.

Finally, the day would not have been complete without a visit to the Banff Upper Hot Springs.  Yes, it's touristy and generally crowded.  But if you get there before 4, when the ski hills haven't cleared yet, then it's just you, some Canmore locals, and all the Japanese tourists.  And in the winter you can still enjoy the view before darkness settles in.  It sure as hell isn't going to burn off any of the calories from brunch and your candy, but it feels so good on work weary bones.

Hmm, what's Hubby doing this Sunday?

Happy Birthday!

Birthdays change as you get older. They start as family gatherings, crowded around babies and spoiling them with cute and useless presents. Next comes the mayhem of ten kids running around hopped up on sugar and buying plastic toys. Down the line your friends change and instead of sugar your partying usually involves a lot of alcohol. Somewhere along the way your celebrations mellow and while the alcohol and sugar are still a part of things, the important part is gathering with your friends and family.

We travelled to Edmonton this weekend to celebrate a slew of family birthdays. My dad turned 67 - an insignificant number (although he did say he was happy to be out of what he called a devil year) but a significant birthday because he finished chemo last week. Our nephew turned 10! He is growing up into such a good kid, not that he wasn't always. That also marks 10 years of quilting because his baby quilt was the first one I made. My mother-in-law turned 60 on Saturday. She is a fantastic woman and I'm hoping that the coming years bring her happiness because she deserves it.

In all of this, perhaps most significantly, Hubby had a birthday. We reminisced about past birthdays - the crazy night at Rodney's Oyster House in Toronto, the birthday/housewarming party in our famous blue house when we were both still in school, and the hysterical night at the dive karaoke bar.

This year was pretty calm, all things considered. He asked me not to get him anything and I actually listened. That saved me the hockey skate buying. But I couldn't let the day go unrecognized. Friday night at home I invited some friends, old and new, over for steaks and fire. After a casual but boisterous dinner at his sister's and brother-in-law's on Saturday I took him out to brunch yesterday. From our lazy Sunday morning when we still lived in Edmonton, just the two of us, to a friends and the kids in a hectic brunch. But the eggs benny were the same.

Cafe de Ville is on the edge of Downtown, but inside the cozy space we never needed to look out the window. At brunch I usually devour the basket of warm knishes they bring you - muffins, donuts and pastries instead of a bread basket. Yesterday the Monster took care of that for me. Coffee, OJ, and Eggs De Ville. Hubby could and would order in his sleep - if the kids let him. Grilled back bacon, perfectly poached eggs that run just enough to enrich the hollandaise, and creamy roasted potatoes. It gets him every time. It's almost enough to make us want to come to Edmonton on the weekends.

So there weren't balloons, fancy wrapping paper, and a case of beer. At the end of the night he was happy. Lots of kisses from his girls, hugs from friends, some new underwear courtesy of his mom, and a full tummy. At 36 can you ask for much more?

Sources:
Cafe De Ville

I just asked him if he ever read my blog and he - in typical fashion - made fun of it. Oh well, that means he won't see these pictures on line. Just a few recent faves of my gorgeous man and the girls.

'Patoes


Having the Monster help make dinner, from every single step does not guarantee that she will actually eat the dinner you've made together. Isn't that something that we, as parents, are told to do to encourage picky eaters to eat? Give them ownership and they'll want to try it! Unfortunately for us, that isn't working lately with our curious two-year old.

We finally got some more heat this week, allowing my tomatoes a chance to actually vine-ripen. Well, some of them. I happily went out and picked them to make dinner last night. Combined with some left-over pie crust, and the Monster's favourite feta cheese we made a galette.

I simply rolled out the pie crust and placed it on a cookie sheet. Drizzled with some fruity olive oil (purchased on this trip), quartered and left whole tomatoes from the garden, a clove of fresh garlic, a handful of chopped fresh oregano and marjoram, and loaded with some sheep's milk feta, the pie crust happily wrapped itself around this bounty of summer. I only had to coax the edges up to keep it all together. The Monster helped with every step, taking a keen interest in distrubuting everything across the crust. Another liberal drizzle of olive oil and into a hot oven for about 20 minutes.

To be honest, I think Hubby got annoyed with me gushing about this galette even before we ate it, but I just knew it would be good. And I was right. We devoured it, especially after the Monster ate one 'patoe and a hunk of cheese and declared herself, "All done." More for us.

Hubby did complain that there was no meat to the meal, as I served it with a tossed salad. We did both agree that it would make an excellent brunch dish accompanied by some poached eggs and greens or as a side to a roast pork. And I think it would be an excellent way to bring summer to your winter table as the high heat would concentrate the flavours of lackluster winter tomatoes.