The Sacrifices Made

My house has smelled like a chai latte for the last two nights. I go to sleep with ginger and cardamom wafting through our tiny, crowded house. Not a bad smell to fall asleep to when your bed has been empty for two weeks.

Hubby is arriving home just in time for the Food Blogger Bake Sale as part of the Market Collective this Saturday. A huge line-up of Calgary and area based food bloggers are uniting to sell their donated treats all in support of Calgary Meals on Wheels.

To be perfectly honest, I had no idea there were this many local bloggers! And this isn't even a complete list. There will be a range of delicious treats. Vegan treats, gluten free treats, delicious treats, and plain old decadent treats. A giant thank-you to Vincci at Ceci N'est pas un Food Blog for wrangling us.

This bake sale is why my house smells so yummy. My contribution is my Chai Spiced Granola (With Pistachios and Almonds). If you have the Blog Aid:Haiti book you've seen it. Vincci has made it, as has Aimee. So, if you want to try it, you could make it yourself. Or, you could come down to the Market Collective (148-10th Street NW - the old Ant Hill Fabrics building) and pick up a bag. And if you come first thing on Saturday morning I'll be there too.

Chai Spiced Granola (With Pistachios and Almonds)

Makes 10 cups

1/2 cup honey

1/2 cup brown sugar

1/2 cup canola oil

1/2 cup water

1 tsp cinnamon

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp ground cardamom

1/2 tsp ground ginger

1/4 tsp freshly grated nutmeg

1/4 tsp freshly ground pepper

5 cups rolled oat flakes

1 cup shelled pistachios

1 cup sunflower seeds

1/2 cup slivered or sliced almonds

1/2 cup wheat germ

1/2 cup unsweetened, shredded coconut

1/2 cup sesame seeds, flax seeds, or quinoa

1. Preheat oven to 300 degrees F. Prepare two large cookie sheets with parchment paper or non-stick spray.

2. Mix together the honey, sugar, water, oil, and spices in a small saucepan. Heat  until sugar is dissolved, stirring occasionally. It's okay if it comes to a boil, but don't leave it there.

3. Stir together dry ingredients. Add wet ingredients to dry.  Mix together well. Split between the two cookiesheets.

4. Bake at 300 degrees F for 15 minutes. Reduce heat to 275 degrees F and rotate pans. Bake another 15 minutes. Turn off the oven and leave to cool completely.

5. Store in an airtight container.

If It Wasn't For Her

Today it is all about my Nanny. And in two weeks it will still be all about my Nanny.

It may come as a big surprise to you, but I am not so independently wealthy that I get to do nothing but make ice cream and write blog posts. I only wish. Alas, I am in the office 4 days a week, freelancing and teaching on the side, and oh yeah, raising my two little ones. I could not do any of this without my Hubby, of course. And none of it would be possible without our Nanny.

Emily watches the girls while I'm at the office.  She is outside with them everyday, regardless of the weather, she brings them treats like ice cream bubbles, she cleans the house (even taking out the garbage), and most importantly to me, she bakes. Not only am I happy that my girls get even more time in the kitchen, but it is glorious to come home at the end of the day and have fresh cookies waiting for you.

The two most used cookbooks for cookie recipes are good ol' Martha and, more frequently, Julie's One Smart Cookie. The girls are never afraid to try a new recipe, despite The Monster's usual request to bake chocolate chip anything. When I came home the other day though, these raisin cookies greeted me at the door. My first question was which book they came from?

No book, it was Grandma's recipe.  And Emily has made it so many times she has it memorized. She graciously allowed me to share it here.

To be honest, I'd never thought I would obsess over raisin cookies. But these are moist, sweet, and chewy, with a hint of spice. A chocolate chip fan myself, I can safely say these are one of the best cookies I've ever had. Thank-you Emily, and thank-you Emily's Grandma.

Ridiculously Good Raisin Cookies

makes 4-5 dozen

2 cups raisins

1 cup water

1 tsp baking soda

1 cup butter

2 cups sugar

3 eggs

1 tsp vanilla

4 cups flour

1 tsp baking powder

1 tsp cinnamon

1/4 tsp nutmeg

1/2 tsp salt

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

2. In a small sauce pan boil water and raisins together for 5 minutes. Cool slightly and stir in baking soda.  Set aside.

3. Cream together butter and sugar. Add in eggs and vanilla.  Combine well. Stir in raisins then add in dry ingredients.

4. Drop by teaspoonfuls on a greased cookie sheet. Bake 12-15 minutes.

Sunday Dinners

After spending a week away from my family at a Quilt Conference all I wanted to do last week was cook dinner and sit down with my family.  I wanted to chaos of an almost 2 year old emptying her plate on her stylish Marimekko placemat. I wanted Hubby and I to try and talk about renovations, family, and playground sizes over two children screaming, "Mega, mega, mega!" I wanted to have the 'what animals can you kill to eat?' discussion again, and again. And on top of that, I wanted a little kitchen time to set-up this crazy thing called The Family Dinner.

Despite the fact that we have two overly energetic kids it is extremely important that we sit down to dinner together every night.  Yup, every night.  Our kids are too young for the near constant drain on our gas tank as we chauffeur them to a million activities, and lord help us if we become those parents anyway. When we sit down we are there to stay, until every last bite is eaten by every single person. And then you must be asked to be excused before you even think about a foot straying from the table.

It may seem old fashioned to be strict about these dinner time rules, but in the end it makes dinner less stressful and far more consistent in the long run. As an added bonus, it means our kids are quite used to and more than able to sit in a restaurant without being too crazy and disruptive to other patrons, for at least an hour. 

Reminder - our kids are about to be 2 and 4. And no, they aren't angels, far from it. But we've got dinnertime almost settled. You take your victories where you can as a parent.

So I am starting a new feature on Backseat Gourmet. Sunday Dinner. For many of us, Sunday might be the only day of the week where everyone is actually home at the same time. Or at least the only day where that might be possible. So every Sunday, or most at least, I will share some Sunday dinner inspiration.

It was awfully convenient then, that a new crop of cookbooks arrived last weekend. With a cup of tea I settled in for some browsing.  At the top of the stack was Rose Reisman's Family Favourites. I've had some of her cookbooks in the past and never got too excited by them. This one, however, immediately grabbed me because of her emphasis on the family dinner.  And then 40 pages of discussion on healthy eating, cooking with the family, and shopping tips.

Flipping through the book I can say that I wasn't overly excited by the dessert section - yes, of course I went there first - but the vegetable side dishes and soups had me very, very interested. So I picked up mint and goat cheese at the market.

The first recipe I made was mashed potatoes with goat cheese and sundried tomatoes. I wanted this to be so good, and maybe it could have been.  But I didn't have Yukon Golds and I now disagree with the recipe in adding the chopped tomatoes before you mash. So, mine were dry, but still tasty.

But the Molasses-Coated Carrots with Mint? Holy hell, these were good. Flavourful and refreshing, without the overpowering taste of any one ingredient. I used the regular old organic carrots that I can find at this time of year, but cut smaller and adjusted the cooking time. Carrots deluxe, but still fresh with that carrot taste. An instant classic in my books. And it will certainly be making regular appearances at our house, Sunday or not.

Molasses-Coated Carrots with Fresh Mint

Serves 6

Excerpted with permission from Rose Reisman's Family Favourites

Published by Whitecap Books 2010

1 lb thin carrots (about 6 inches long), peeled and trimmed

2 Tbsp molasses

1 1/2 tsp sherry wine vinegar or white balsamic vinegar

1 Tbsp olive oil

3 Tbsp chopped fresh mint

1. Place the carrots in a large saucepan or skillet. Cover with water and boil for 10 minutes or until just tender. Drain well and return to the saucepan.

2. Whisk together the molasses, vinegar and olive oil in a small bowl. Add to the carrots and saute over high heat for 5 minutes or until the sauce is heated through and the carrots are coated. Place on a platter, garnish with fresh mint and serve.

Life in Perspective - Blog Aid:Haiti

There are moments in life when the notion of perspective isn't just something you get, it is something that comes right up and smacks you on the face like that scene in Airplane. There I was whining and moaning about my crap knees, the next thing I know EMS is at the house because Smilosaurus choked on some granola and it just won't come out.

This was the granola that I asked my mother-in-law, Susan, make for me while I sat with ice on my knees. The granola that needed to be photographed for inclusion in the Blog Aid: Haiti cookbook. And two days later my little one was happily eating handfuls of the Chai-Spice Granola with Pistachios when a little bit went down the wrong way.  She wasn't in grave danger, but she was definitely having a bit of trouble. But Hubby was at his own physio appointment (with the car seats) and the nanny and I were left with the girls and no car to go anywhere.  Not that I could drive.

Thankfully a good coughing fit just as the ambulance drove up and she was back to her normal roles -Death Wish and Howler Monkey.

Later that afternoon I submitted my recipes for inclusion in the stunning cookbook she was putting together. One of my mentors and friends, Julie Van Rosendaal sent out an email three weeks back.  She was motivated to take action in response to the earthquake in Haiti. So she asked some fellow writers and bloggers to contribute to a cookbook project.  She led the charge on the newest version of the community cookbook.  Blog Aid: Haiti is a collection of recipes from 27 writers around the interwebs.  The recipes range from my own Chai-Spiced Granola with Pistachios (only available in the book) to the ultimate Gluten Free Chocolate Chip Cookie, from Blueberry Galette to Bulgogi, and from Vietnamese Coffee Ice Cream to Concord Grape Sorbet.  

All Recipes, photographs, design, and editing were freely given.  The artwork gracing the cover is by the lovely artist Beth Snyder. And the publishing houses, West Canadian and Blurb.com are matching the proceeds realized.  So that triples your donation when you purchase a book. Buy before February 12 in Canada and all donations will also be matched by the federal government. So in addition to a very leveraged donation you will also get a rather stunning cookbook.

All proceeds will go directly to The Red Cross and Doctors Without Borders to help with relief efforts in Haiti. The last few weeks we've used our Canadian medical system quite a bit and I am extremely thankful for the care we get and the low/no cost of it all. Doing a project like Blog Aid:Haiti just highlights how damn lucky we are here, and how important it is to support those that don't have that sort of access. That sound? That's perspective slapping me across the face.

Back to the book. Did I mention that each recipe has a photograph? And that contributions are coming from folks like The Gluten Free Girl and Chef, Seven Spoons, Tartelette, Under the High Chair, andChristie's Corner? Seriously, stunning is an understatement.

The book is available for US $25 in softcover and US$50 in hardcover.  You can buy it here, or click on the button there in the sidebar.  It is available on a print on demand system, so you should get it about 8 days after ordering.

For more information on the book, the project, and all the contributors, visit the official Blog Aid website.

And from now on, we're sticking to granola in yoghurt, perhaps with a bit of pomegranate syrup drizzled on top.

The Last Recipe

There is something immensely appealing about the making the last recipe in a cookbook. Don't ask me why, but I got a little giddy seeing that I was making the last recipe in Mastering the Art of French Cooking.  The occasion was our Julie/Julia dinner party and I was in charge of dessert.  Because I had not seen the movie I was at a bit of a loss for what to make.  

My boss actually gave me the idea to make this cake.  She just randomly mentioned her daughter making a cake that Julia makes in the movies where you press nuts in to the side of the cake. That's all I had to go on. So I read the the cake section (5 basic cakes takes up about 25 pages) and decided that Reine de Saba was the cake in question.

Nowhere does Julia Child tell you why it is named after the Queen of Sheba, but she does think of it is as a quintessential French Cake.  Me?  I'll just refer to it as chocolate and almond cake. I'll also refer to it as one of my favourite chocolate cakes ever.

Chocolate cake can come in many forms - uber moist, dense and flourless, simply chalky or dry, and sometimes perfectly lovely.  This one falls in the last category. Only a hint of almond touches the slightly creamy but rich texture. With ground almonds and whipped egg whites competing between grounding the cake and making it soar, it really lands somewhere in between in an earthly heaven made of chocolate.

The cake itself isn't the last recipe in the book, it is the chocolate butter icing. Officially, this might be my new favourite icing.  It isn't sweet or terribly rich.  Good butter makes this icing because all it really is is melted chocolate with butter whipped in.  Not much fancier than that. Of course, the recipe makes it seem a lot fancier, but don't be fooled. And don't get lost in the instructions.

You should also not be fooled by the small amount of icing the recipe makes.  It seems like such a paltry amount, but it covers the cake and is a perfect compliment to the cake.  Next time I might use that last recipe as a filling, or a crumb coat on a cake I cover with ganache. Or, I'll just follow the recipe again and make The Queen of Sheba as intended.

Cake decorating is not my forte. I sincerely hope that my girls NEVER ask for a themed cake because it will be a sad, sad birthday for them. I can, however, hold a cake and press ground almonds in to the side.  That is not difficult at all, but worth the mess. I strongly recommend that you do not skip this step.

If I drank espresso it would have been a nice accompaniment.  My mind went to scotch. But after more than a few glasses of wine that night, all I could think about was whether it would be rude or not to take one of the last pieces and skip making my souffle.  Alas, Pierre and Gail's husband made the decision for me.  The souffle was good, but I am still thinking about the cake. I just might open the book to the last page and make it again for Christmas dinner.

At Julie's house for Julie/Julia

Eating in a room full of food bloggers and writers is almost as bad as eating dinner with toddlers, except the conversation is far better.  In the interest of the blog, the en mass photography when five bloggers gather for an impressive dinner is somewhat insane.  Sorry, there were only 4 photographers and 1 illustrator at our Julie/Julia themed dinner party on Sunday. Pierre stood back, secretly laughing I think, while the rest of us pushed buttons and tried to make adjustments for the fact that it was close to 7pm when we started eating, er... photographing.

It's a good thing that our vichyssoise was being served chilled.

The occasion of our gathering was ostensibly to celebrate the release of the Julie/Julia DVD today.  In reality, Julie invited us all together to meet, cook, chat, and celebrate. Most of us knew at least one other person there, and I think Julie knew everyone. (She really does know everyone.) Gwendolyn from Patent and the Pantry, Gail from The Pink Peppercorn and her sax playing husband, Pierre of Kitchen Scraps fame with his love, and then Hubby and myself all descended upon Julie with an abundance of butter, cream, wine, and our best stories.

Our instructions were simple: make something from Mastering the Art of French Cooking.  We each volunteered a course/dish. There was the vichyssoise from Gwendolyn, surprisingly (to me) rich and actually quite refreshing even though it was minus a billion outside. For dinner itself Julie made Boeuf Bourguignon. Pierre made Ratatouile and the most amazing potatoes ever. Gail spent two days in the kitchen to make a Moussaka unlike anything I've ever had in a neighbourhood Greek joint.  Two days! Oh, and I made Reine de Saba and a souffle but I'll save the details for another day.

To start the night we toasted new friendships with French cider and bubbly.  And we watched old episodes of The French Chef.  Correction, we had it on the TV but were too busy talking. That theme continued for the night.  We were so damn eager at the beginning of the night, dutifully taking photos. Then we sat down to eat.  And drink. And talk.  So there might be one blurry shot of the souffle that Gwendolyn and I made together.

Aside from our critiques and comments about the books, cookbook, and movie (enough about Meryl already and how long exactly should I simmer for?) we talked and laughed.  I'm not telling secrets, but I do know about some tidbits about mascots, child actors, and degrees in sex.  But I'm not talking. In fact, I think I might still be digesting.

History and Inspiration

Brownsville, Halifax, Brooklyn, Austin, Manhattan, Brandon, New Orleans, and Phoenix.

Bread, soup, potatoes, chocolate, cupcakes, cookies, BBQ, smoking, tarts, seafood, and berries.

Chinese, Arab, Cretan, Italian, Thai, Caribbean, Spanish, Ukrainian, Cuban, and French.

We were cleaning out our teak hutch on the weekend in order to put new legs on it. Hubby emptied the contents - all my cookbooks - on the dining room table. In theory that would be a good time to review and purge. In theory. Instead, I reviewed and reminded myself of some enjoyable reads, vacations, and inspiring recipes that have never been tried.

My collection of cookbooks includes souvenirs from cities visited (both by us and others), gifts from speaking engagements, birthday and Christmas presents, impulse buys from the grocery store and one of my favourite stores, and a growing assortment of community cookbooks. I am one of those weird people who actually reads cookbooks. I try to stay away from celebrity cookbooks, but that is getting harder and harder. Hence the growing collection of community cookbooks. My collection serves as a history of where I've been and want to go - in the world and in my cooking.

Don't get me started on my magazines...