Celebrating Life

There are a lot of baby quilts to be made these days. Even though I've been sick and spending naptime actually napping, I managed to pull some fabrics for a new baby quilt. This one is for my former boss and her soon to arrive second daughter. It will be a pinwheel design with some applique.

In the meantime, we are off for a funeral this week. Hubby's grandfather passed away on the weekend so we are going to Kelowna to celebrate his life with the rest of the family. Babies are so nice to be around when there is sad news. Even being sick my girls'cries sound sweet to me this week.

See you next week.

'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.

Hugs From Everywhere

I've been trying all week to get a photo up of the completed top for my Inspired Improvisation. When Hubby's been home he's been working, sick, or we've been busy with the girls. With fall upon us it is much harder to get pictures taken in the daylight. As a compromise, I offer this picture. I promise to get a better one soon.

As for work this week, I actually pieced the back of it already. If Hubby was home and up for it I might be able to get out to a shop and get it basted, using their tables. I might just have to clean the kitchen floor and do it there. You see, I am quite anxious to get going on quilting this one. I've decided on a recipient and I want to be able to take it to him as soon as possible.

My boss has been in the hospital since March. After a barrage of tests and treatments he is now waiting for a heart transplant. He is a young guy for this to happen to (early 50s), and has a gorgeous family in his wife and 10 year old daughter. I knew him for a few years before I took my current job and he's always been a source of inspiration for me. He is so committed to what he does and to the people around him. And right now he is going insane in the hospital, complaining that he is fully institutionalized. I hope this quilt can bring him some brightness and comfort.

While working on this quilt I started thinking about all the fabrics that are a part of it. I haven't bought any fabric of late, making everything from stash. In this quilt alone there are fabrics from many other quilts. So I like to think that I am extending the hugs to my boss from all the other recipients of quilts with the same fabric. That means he is getting hugs from my nephew, my sister-in-law's sister and her husband, my brother and sister-in-law's niece, my old boss and her first baby, a quilting friend in the US, and a few more from Hubby, the Monster, and our family.

Backseat Adventure - Slow Food's Feast of the Fields

When a whole bunch of foodies get together in a spectacular location for some yummy, locally produced and cooked food it is a recipe for a hot afternoon. When a couple with two young daughters go to that event it is a recipe for a sweaty, busy afternoon spent chasing, cajoling, and sometimes eating.

The family went to Slow Food Calgary's Seventh Annual Feast of the Fields on Sunday. There were local restaurants cooking food sourced from a number of local producers. The food was great, the music was fun, the location was fantastic. The Monster was mostly whiny and picky and the baby was fussy. I think it was a day for the babysitter...

Slow Food Calgary is devoted to the protection and promotion of regional cuisines, ingredients, and local purveyors. At Feast of the Fields a number of local restaurants teamed up with local producers to showcase ingredients, taste, and talent found here.

Hubby and I were looking forward to the day. It had been a tough week for both of us and the promise of good food and a day out kept our spirits up. When Sunday bloomed into a gorgeous Indian Summer day and the girls napped well beforehand we thought we were set. You could smell the grills as you approached the garden at Rouge, starting us salivating.

Unfortunately, the Monster was not in the mood for a garden party, asking us for a tea party at a friend's house instead. She was temporarily placated by some lemon water when we got there. And until we found some bacon on one of the specially prepared treats she wanted nothing to do with the food. Hubby and I busily gorged ourselves on everything she wouldn't eat, and then some. Tomatoe and bacon soup, duck proscuitto, blackcurrant and yoghurt tartletts, and more.

Then we found ourselves a spot in the shade, with a good view of the garden and the band. The Monster found some other kids - including ones in the best t-shirts with the slogan "Slow Eater" on them. And when Jessica Beacock, one of the chefs from Rouge, came out to harvest some nasturtiums from the garden the kids flocked to her. She gave them a lesson in edible greens and even let them pick some flowers to taste. The Monster liked the peppery taste so much she helped herself again.

At the end of the day Hubby and agreed on two things. One, it appears that you need money to be a foodie in this city. While I won't discount the importance of an organization like Slow Food, the event wasn't cheap. And it seemed that a lot of people there weren't afraid to show off that they have money. There isn't anything wrong with that, but it makes me wonder about the rest of the world. Good food isn't only for the rich, but I'll save that tirade for another day.

And two, as much as we want to expose the girls to local producers and new tastes, we would have had a better time if we'd gone by ourselves. Sure, there were lots of kids around and we believe it is important to introduce the concepts of Slow Food, but it might be better to wait until she is a bit older to appreciate an event like this. Or maybe we just wanted a date.

Sources:
Slow Food Calgary
Rouge
Slow Food Edmonton

Eeking Out Summer

The corn is almost done, as are the peaches. My tomatoes are still very green because there is no heat to the day. And the days are so much shorter now. Summer is over and our brief glimpse of fall has begun. To celebrate the end of the summer, use up some mealy peaches, and get the girls (and I) out of the house while Hubby was out of town I baked some hand pies and we headed to the park for a picnic.

After another week as a single parent I was rather excited for our picnic. The Monster was not. But I was smart, I went to the playground. Of course, that meant she spent most of the time playing and very little eating. Half an apple and half a pie. She hasn't been eating much of anything lately, perhaps she is getting some molars? How could I worry when she tore around the park, happy as could be? I even managed to nurse the baby while she climbed and slid. Oh, and I ate about 4 pies... Talk about emotional eating, or they were just that good.

To make the pies I took my mealy peaches, about 4, and a couple of ripe bartlett pears, tossed them with some vanilla sugar and a couple of tablespoons of flour. No recipe, just some peeled and chopped fruit in a bowl. You could use any combination of fruits. Next time I'm doing apple and pear together.

I made some pate brisee, cut it into 4 inch squarish shapes, and filled with a few tablespoons of fruit. Then I simply pinched the edges, brushed with a beaten egg and a bit of milk, then sprinkled with some raw sugar for extra crunch. Bake at 350 degrees Celcius for about 15-20 minutes.

Here is the recipe I use for crust. It is my standard for all pie crusts. Originally, I always used Martha's, but now I add the vinegar and have more consistent results with a tender, easy to work with crust.

Pie Crust (based on a pate brisee)
Enough for two single crusts or a double crust pie.
2 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1 tsp salt
1 tbsp sugar
1 cup cold butter
1 tsp apple cider vinegar
2 tbsp - 1/4 cup cold water

1. Mix together the dry ingredients.
2. Cut the butter into smaller pieces and add to the dry ingredients. Pulse together in a food processor and cut with a pastry blender until it resembles a course meal.
3. With the blender running add the vinegar and the water, one tablespoon at a time until the dough is moist but hasn't quite come together.
4. Turn out onto a clean surface and bring together into two discs. Wrap in plastic wrap and chill at least one hour or ready to use.
5. Roll out on a floured surface and use.

Meanwhile, we are heading out shortly for a Slow Food event. Hubby and I are excited for some good food and company. I'll admit, I would have loved to get a babysitter, but it is a beautiful day and the event is in a garden. It will be tiring to chase after the Monster and still have time to eat and visit, but I hope she finds something yummy to eat.

Phew

What I discovered about myself this week: I can make it approximately 3 days on my own without losing my mind with the girls, and I am a wuss for only making it 3 days. It was an exhausting week with Hubby out of town for work.

Then, on Thursday, I ran into a girl that I knew from high school. Turns out she only lives a few blocks from me. And she is a new mom, with an adopted 14 month old. Oh, and her husband is stationed in Afghanistan with the Forces so she is doing the single mom thing - all the time. I am in awe of women (and men) who can handle life alone like that. You definitely need good support systems.

This week, thankfully, my neighbours were home so they were able to come over once and watch the baby while I ran out. If I didn't have them I don't know what I would do! Especially this week when our phone and internet went out and was only fixed today. They were also some friends simply to talk to.

On the plus side, I did take as much time as I could to sew - during naps. Today I finished the top of this quilt. I liked this picture so much that I am posting it first. After no internet for nearly a week I have to play catch up with my posts. And while finishing it today I came up with the name: Inspired Improvisation.

Backseat Adventure - The Italian Centre Shop (Edmonton)

Every good Italian thing - like pancetta, caciocavallo, the best sandwiches in the world, and canolli - is worth a road trip. Shortly after Hubby and I got married we moved across the city, a mere 5 minute drive to what is arguably the best grocery store in the world - the original Italian Centre Shop. Aside from the farmers' market and milk from the chain grocery store, we bought everything else we ate from this store. Tucked into an inner city neighbourhood this corner of Italy (and Europe) brought us great gastronomical, social, and aesthetic (you should have seen the boys in the deli) pleasure.

The Italian Centre Shop was one of the things we missed the most about Edmonton when we moved to Calgary 5 years ago. There are good Italian shops here, but they weren't quite the same. Not in character, not in food, but maybe still with the boys in the deli. Sure, the aisles were too narrow and there never really is a downtime, but it is a special place.

Since we moved a second Italian Centre Shop opened in Edmonton, on the southside of town. Conveniently, it is located a mere 5 minute drive from my mother-in-law. This saves me the traffic and construction congestion to get through downtown to the original location.

Arguably, the character at the second location is just not the same. Having made a few trips there I can say that it is improving. Lack of character is more than made up for with wider aisles and the bakery alone.

Sadly, the boys in the deli are not there either. Of course, I have to say that knowing that my brother-in-law's nephew now works there. He and a bunch of older men and women. Either way, the staff are knowledgeable and generally friendly. They are quick to offer a sample if you are curious about one of the nearly 50 cheeses they carry. And, more importantly, they are quick to give you cooking advice. Pick up your number and catch the drool while they wait to serve you.

I must confess that I went a little crazy when I was there. My mother-in-law bought olives, olive oil, and feta - exactly what she came there for. I controlled myself at the deli, buying only some panchetta, proscuitto parma, caciocavallo cheese, and montasio cheese. Then I bought a few bottle of oil, some balsamic vinegar, cookies, even pop. The cart got a little crowded for the baby. And Hubby was none too happy about packing it all for the trip back to Calgary

It was all the start of something good. After our regular Sunday morning market visit I made roasted brussel sprouts with pancetta for dinner. Yesterday I made proscuitto wrapped melon for moms' group. The Monster loved the pancetta, not surpising as it is a close cousin to bacon - one of the only meats she will eat these days. She wasn't a fan of the proscuitto parma. I plan to simply nibble on the remainder of the caciocavallo throughout the week and make some fricos with the montasio cheese, although I haven't decided between apple or swiss chard.

Back at the store we finished our shopping with lunch. This location has a cafe attached, aptly named Spinelli's after the owners. We indulged in the best sandwich ever - salami, spicy capicola, ham, provolone, and hot vegetable spread all on a ciabatta. Lucky for us the Monster didn't want anything but her brownie. That meant we didn't have to share and she happily munched away on her completely indulgent lunch. And if I drank coffee I'm sure this cappuccino would have finished things off nicely, my mother-in-law thought so. I was just excited to get home and cook.

Sources:
The Italian Centre Shop
Original Location: 10878 95 Street 780-424-4869
South Location: 5028 104A Street 780-989-4869

Mine! Mine! Mine!

There is that moment in time that every parent dreads in the development of their toddler - the Mine! stage. When the fork you are using, when the book you are reading, when the toy the other little girl is playing with, or when the quilt on the bed is always "Mine!" to your kid. It's exhausting to chase them arround attempting to extol the virtues of sharing or explaining that other people need those things to eat, mow their lawn, or move. It's infuriating when they can't grasp it, even though we should know better and realize an 18 month old doesn't necessarily know any better themself. So we follow behind them, chastising them as much as we can and apologizing profusely to the man whose cane she tried to steal or the little boy whose cookie she took.

I will not, however, apologize for my upcoming bit of selfishness. You see, I am painfully addicted to my cherry jam. Rather, to cherry jam with ricotta on toast. I could eat this every day, two or three times a day. The only thing that stops me from doing this is supply.

Sure, you can get cherry jam in the store. Most of it is imported from Europe and is quite chunky and thick. I find it all rather cloying, but it will work in a pinch. This summer I was inspired and decided to make my own. So far I've made three batches and I still worry whether there will be enough to get me to the next cherry season.

Making the jam, while time-consuming - was actually quite easy. I even decided to try it without using the pre-made pectin. I thought I was rather brave, having used Certo my entire life. With a little bit of searching I came across a post by the ice cream guru David Lebovitz. It was all coming together.

Following his basic directions I pitted all my cherries (with my paring knife), cooked them down a little, measured, then added sugar and boiled away. Then I put them in my specially bought jars. (Smart me bought new jars of a different shape for all my cherry jam. That way there can be no mistake between the cherry I love and the strawberry for the Monster and raspberry for Hubby.) A half hour later I realized that the jam was not going to set. So I emptied the jars back into the La Creuset, quartered an apple for some added pectin, and boiled again. Success this time. So I tried again with cherries and peaches. Yesterday I decided that I didn't have enough in the pantry and made another batch of plain cherry.

Instead of rationing my supply, I will enjoy it all. The Monster and Hubby will not. They are not allowed to touch my cherry jam. And yes, I will have a temper tantrum if I see their fingers or spoons even in the vicinity of my cherry jam. Maybe the Monster will shake her finger at me and tell me to share, and maybe I will. Likely I won't. It is all mine, mine mine.

Black Currant Adventures

When travelling with a toddler it is important to note the difference between fruit farms and farms with animals. A few weeks ago a girlfriend and I saddled up all the girls (she has two as well) and went south to Okotoks for a morning at Kayben Farms. This was exciting for us moms, but a great let down for the Monster when she realized that, other than the black cat hanging out by the cash register, this farm did not have any animals.

That being said, the girls were troupers and worked up a good amount of excitement for berry picking. We were too late for strawberries but the black currants stood ready for us. The excitement lasted oh, about two minutes. At that point A (my friend's oldest) decided that black currants were gross and the Monster hated getting her arms scratched by the bushes.

My girlfriend and I stuck to it - hell we weren't giving up without a fight and at least a half a bucket of black currants. We gave the girls snacks and sent them off to pick flowers/weeds. In between policing them and making sure the babies were happy we managed to get about a half bucket. By then the girls were done with the field. We headed back to the main building, drooled over flowers, and treated the girls to a black currant slush.

I headed home with all the black currants, armed with great intent to turn them into something. I'm not a fan of jelly, preferring jam. After boiling down the currants with some water and straining them overnight I was left with 10 cups of tart juice. What to do? What to do? To be honest, I couldn't decide so I just froze the juice.

After seeing Julie's post about blackcurrant sorbet and ginger ale floats and my current fixation with the ice cream maker I thought about ice cream or sorbet. My original thought was syrup, but I was having a hard time finding instructions or a recipe. Then I saw a show on Vermont and they, of course showed a sugar shack. Hmm, you make syrup by boiling the crap out of the sap. I decided that's what I would do with the black currant juice.

First I had to find bottles. A few trips to restaurant supply stores and Canadian Tire came up with nothing. Then my mother-in-law suggested a winemaking store. Jackpot! A dozen 375 mL bottles with plastic, reusable stoppers.

It turns out buying a dozen bottles was optimistic. My 10 cups of juice, after an hour of boiling, turned into about 900 mL of thick syrup. Well, not quite syrup yet. I added in 3 cups of brown sugar, a half cup at a time. It is still a bit tart, but I didn't want it sickingly sweet.

All that's left it to make pancakes for dinner and enjoy our labour.

Sources:
Kayben Farms
Winemakers Wine Co 403-258-1200

Natural Dying - Nanking Cherries

Here is the second round in my natural dying experiment. I picked the nanking cherries off the bush in front of both ours and the neighbour's house. These tiny red Prairie cherries are a staple in my life. We had a bush in our yard growing up. Actually, it is still producing cherries at my parents' house. Usually one of the first things to bloom, the flowers are a tender pink in the spring. By August you have juicy, dime sized cherries with a small pit. Sure, they are a little tart, but they make an excellent jelly. I realized after the fact that I should have taken a picture of the cherries, but you can still check them out.

This time I used an unbleached muslin and a scrap of plain white cotton. The top photo is the before shot. For the dye I used the mash again, mixed with some juice. I made the juice by boiling down about 3 cups of berries with a few cups of water. I ended up with 3 cups of juice, 2 of which went to making some sherbet. The dye was an orange-pink colour.

To prepare the fabric I decided to treat it with a mordant, alum. Alum is toxic, if you eat a tablespoon or more. But considering it is sold in the spice aisle at the grocery store and is approved as a food additive, I decided it fit into my efforts at natural dying. I simmered the fabric in the mordant solution of 2 tablespoons alum to about 6 or 7 cups water. I know, I should measure and give you more precise instructions, but this was done after the girls went to bed. The fabric simmered for an hour while I simmered the dye solution about the same time.

After soaking in the mordant I squeezed out the excess water, but did not rinse the fabric. Then I added it to the dye and simmered for another hour, stirring to make the colour a bit more even. After an hour I turned off the burner and went to bed. This is what it looked like the following afternoon. We decided to go swimming, so I never got to it in the morning.

From that vibrant colour I got this pale pink. This is it after a few rinses with cold water.

This is it when it dried. The unbleached cotton is on the left.

I've decided to try a few more items, sticking to traditional Prairie materials. My next experiment will be with the berries of the mountain ash tree.

Dealing With It

I don't know if it's the 3-4 month period after the baby's arrival, or Hubby working late and out of town these days, or my dad's illness, or just the hormones, but it's been a rough few weeks. Despite the baby sleeping well most nights I've not been. Insomnia and anxiety are just hanging over my head. So one night last week, rather than toss and turn, I made some hot milk with honey and attacked my stash.

The Monster was colouring while we were in Kelowna. Her limited supply of highlighters and pens at Great-Grandpa's house brought about the colour scheme. For some reason I kept this picture, when I normally recycle her everyday art at this point. Using this as my inspiration I pulled fabric and started cutting.

First I cut a bunch of squares and strips. Then I slashed the squares and sewed the strips in, randomly of course. After a good press I slashed the squares in the other direction on some, creating a cross in the middle of the square. Some I left with just one strip. In less than an hour I had 14 blocks.

Who knows what this will end up as and who for? But I felt immensely better after that hour and slept well (with expected interuptions) that night. And since Hubby is not home with a paintbrush for the playhouse I will hit the basement and quilt in between loads of laundry.

Hard Day on the Job

It takes a lot of energy to build all day, especially if you are only 5. My nephew came down for the weekend with my folks to build a playhouse for the girls. He was set with his real and play tools, his own tool belt, and the right attitude to be a supervisor. That meant he stood around a lot, complained about working, and took many breaks to eat. Okay, he did climb on teh roof and help install the shingles. But it seemed like everytime I went outside to check on progress he was eating. Of course, with Baba (my mom) around, no one went hungry. We are Ukrainian, after all.

It was hard work building that playhouse. In true Ukrainian fashion my mom fixed up an impromptu lunch of some Sylvan Star Gouda, Stawnichy's kubasa, homemade dill pickles, and some bread from a filipino bakery in Edmonton.

At the end of the day I teased my dad that although this was for my girls, that it really was a dream come true for me - 25 years late. I grew up in the days where you were sent out to play with instructions to come back when it was dark. My friends and I would go to the park behind our elementary school where there were woods and a small clearing. We called it Smurf Village. It was our fantasy to have my dad build a playhouse in the clearing. We could then go out there every day and have lunch and commune with the Smurfs. Truly, I would have settled for a playhouse in my backyard. Now I have it. And my dad made it a bit taller than the plans so I will fit in there nicely. Hmm, maybe I will put a comfy chair in there for me instead of a little table and toys for the girls...

All it needs is a coat of paint - once the rain stops and the Monster goes to daycare this week. But the Monster was happy to peek out the windows and open the door to scare whoever she made stay inside. We even brought out some tea supplies so we can have our first official picnic.

The playhouse was christened last night. What a better way to wrap up the busy day with a campfire in the backyard and s'mores. The porch was a perfect venue to sneak marshmallows straight from the bag and snuggle up to Dido for chocolate. Our nephew, not surprisingly, was happy to fill up on Taber cob and s'mores. But hey, he had a busy day supervising, er, I mean, pounding nails.

Sources:
Stawnichy's Meat Processing
Sylvan Star Cheese

Taste Adventure - Gorgonzola Cheese

I'll save the suspense - the Monster didn't like it.

She happily stood by me on her chair to help cook dinner. She got rather excited at the prospect of pizza. She ate the end pieces of the pear while I put it together. She was quite curious about the sticky, brown onions. She eagerly took the piece of cheese I handed to her to try. She sucked on it for a second, opened her mouth to let it drop out, and pronounce, "I no like it." Simple and blunt with her declaration and no hissy fit. Fair enough.

So I made part of the pizza with feta, her favourite, instead of gorgonzola. The taste memory must have been imprinted for the night because she wouldn't touch that either. No feta? Then she wouldn't touch the rest of the pizza. She was lucky that her aunt and uncle called with rather exciting news and I was distracted enough to give her some leftovers and raisins.

Oh well, all the more for me, and damn, this was good pizza. Two onions - carmelized while I nursed the Babe - a ripe pear, a blue gorgonzola, and some fresh thyme sprinkled on top. She will learn to like it because I intend to make this a lot over the winter.

Natural Dyeing - Black Currants

Inspired by the look of the jellybags when I made black currant juice I decided to try some natural dyeing the other day. I saw this post on Crafting a Green World ages ago, so I had some direction.

I chose two different fabrics to see how each would take the dye. The one on the left is a traditional white on white and the one on the right an unbleached thick muslin. I first simmered them in a mixture of 8 cups water with 1/2 cup salt for an hour. I only had kosher salt and fleur de sel in the house, so kosher salt it was. The salt is supposed to act as a mordant, encouraging the dye from the juice to stay on the fabric. While that was simmering I took the mash (the berries) from the blackcurrant juice making and simmered that in some more water. Sorry, but I wasn't wasting (as I saw it) the blackcurrant juice on this experiment.


Here is the fabric just as I immersed it in the dye. I simmered the fabric for another hour on the stove. Then I shut it off and let it sit overnight.

Don't you love the colour? Here is the fabric in the morning, just as I took it out of the dye.

And here it is after a couple of rinses. The running subsided, but it was still running so I added some white vinegar to help set the colour. Unfortunately, that seemed to encourage more running... So I gave it one more rinse and put it outside to dry.

This is the end result. More grey/mauve than purple. I would hesitate to put this in a quilt that is going to be washed, but it is still pretty enough to be used in a wall hanging

If I was willing to try some non-toxic methods for dying I've had great results with the Procion dyes, but this was an experiment with non-toxic, natural dyes. I've done a bit more research since then and it seems that cottons are the worst at taking on natural dyes without a good mordant. But most of the literature seems to recommend using alum or other heavy metals as a mordant. Alum arguably non-toxic, but it isn't a gaurantee.

I am going to try some more natural dyes - nanking cherries, turmeric, and maybe some beets and onion skins. I'll keep you posted.

Pick, pick, pick

Lest you think my kid is some kind of glorious foodie that will graciously or voraciously eat what we put in front of her, I must set the record straight. On Wednesday night, all she ate was the above peach brown butter bliss cake. But only the cake, not the peaches. So much for her love affair with peaches. And this was after I made her chickpeas, a near constant favourite. Maybe it was the way I made them - roasted, with garlic and swiss chard - but she's never complained about any of those ingredients before. And last night she wouldn't touch her pierogies and kubasa (garlic sausage for the non-Ukrainians out there). Oh, and she would only eat the peaches, not the cake, after she ate a small bushel of peas instead of her Ukrainian feast.

Kids are fickle, and damn that is frustrating sometimes. We made a commitment early on that we would not make a separate meal for the kids once they were off babyfood. They eat what we eat. If they don't like it, then there is still fruit and anything that might be for dessert. We think that this will lessen any food issues and pickiness. I'm not sure where we got that idea because my parents made me eat everything on my plate and I was picky as anything until I started working in the food industry. On the flipside, Hubby's brother ate nothing and my mother-in-law will still cook separately for him sometimes (and he's in his 30s). Either way, it's what we decided and we're sticking to it.

Sort of.

I find myself caving a little by making sure there is a slice of bread with butter if I think she won't eat her dinner. And we almost never eat bread with dinner. I justify it by putting it on her plate as we sit down and not giving it to her after she's turned her head at the plate or spat out what she tried. She is a full-blown two year old and her attitude is not something I am pleased with. But really, am I surprised?

So we put some bread on her plate, and always a few peas in the pod. She is offered fruit and dessert, but she doesn't always take it. And I've stopped letting her eat after dinner. She has to learn that dinner is it. We hardly eat before 6:30 pm and bedtime is two hours later, she doesn't need a snack... unless we go raspberry picking.

Tonight I needed a break and cooked a guaranteed pleaser. Besides, I was at the dentist this morning and needed soft food. Quesadillas. A.K.A Exotic grilled cheese. Hey, I put diced tomatoes and chili powder in them! And I served them with my dad's famous salsa and the best side dish ever - guacamole. Seriously, I love guacamole almost as much as I love chocolate. Thankfully, the Monster does too.

Here is my recipe for basic guacamole. I have no idea if it would be considered authentic, but it tastes pretty close to what a Mexican friend makes. Personally, I prefer it a bit chunky so I chop half the avacado and add a chopped tomatoe. This recipe is a basic proportion, but it can easily be doubled, tripled, quadrupled...

The Easiest Guacamole
1 clove garlic
1 avocado
1/2 lime, juiced
1/2 tsp chili powder
Hot sauce to taste
Salt and pepper

1. Mince the garlic clove.
2. Mix all ingredients together with a fork, mashing the avocado to your preference.
3. Season with salt and pepper.

Silver Linings

When life hands you an emergency trip to Kelowna in August you must seek peaches. Hubby's grandpa landed in the hospital last week with what turns out to be his second broken hip in a year. At the last minute we decided to drive out on a rare free weekend. How could we not take the opportunity to see Grandpa? The old man is doing okay after surgery and we all got another visit with him.

With a bit of free time in the afternoons - they have forced naptime at the hospital - we were able to enjoy a swim in the 40 degree weather. Whew. And the family in town (Hubby's uncle and his family also live there) had us all gather in the late evenings for beer can chicken and pizza. In their backyard they have some fruit trees and a walnut tree. Eager to always teach the Monster where her food comes from we climbed the terraced garden to the peach tree. Can I just say that my idea of heaven now involves a comfy chair under a peach tree? The scent is the pure scent of peach. No bath product can truly replicate this. And a fresh picked box of peaches is close, but it isn't as fresh or sweet as the scent right under the tree.

The Monster is suddenly a fan of whole fruits. On Sunday night she ate two plums, a peach, and then she stole my apple. This was after almost two slices of pizza! But there was no way I could deny her the fresh off the tree goodness. Bedtime be damned, still warm fruit in a sultry breeze with a full moon rising is not to be denied.

Hubby's uncle was generous and sent us home with a box of fresh-picked peaches. The car radiated sunshine as we drove home. We ate more than a few along the way, and then some more after the girls were finally asleep last night. Then I had some for breakfast and the Monster took one to daycare for lunch.

After making ice cream and some jam today I still have almost two dozen giant orbs that need to be made into something yummy. I am going to make this Browned Butter Bliss tomorrow. And a pie or two and some crisps will need to go into the freezer. That should take care of these peaches, and then I'll buy more on the weekend.

I searched and searched for some ice cream recipes. After my research I decided to be brave, or cocky, and make up my own. I wanted to stick with the custard base, still feeling like I need to master that before I branch out, but I was really disappointed with the egginess of my first attempt. And I had some thick whipping cream from Vital Green in the fridge that needed to be used. I found one recipe for brown sugar peach ice cream, and one for roasted peach ice cream. Without a doubt those two flavours needed to go together. I wasn't the only one who thought so... Julie, maybe we were separated at birth? I had no yogurt in the house and the baby was napping so I went on my own with the custard.

This was definitely a better attempt. Still not perfect, but I think the problem was the peaches, not the custard. I only mashed them when I should have blitzed them in the food processor. Mashing left them pulpy instead of pureed. I could have mixed the puree and some cut chunks. Lesson learned. We were able to wait long enough for it to harden before we ate it tonight, but just barely. Surprisingly, the Monster wanted nothing to do with it. I guess she wants to stick to whole fruit.

Roasted Peach Brown Sugar Ice Cream

3 large, fresh peaches
1 tbsp butter
1/4 cup plus 2 tbsp dark brown sugar
1 cup whipping cream
3/4 cup skim milk
2 egg yolks
dark brown sugar
1 tsp vanilla

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees C.
2. Halve peaches and place in oven proof pan or baking dish. You don't have to peel them, but mine pretty much peeled themselves as I cut into them.
3. Dot peaches with butter and sprinkle 2 tbsp brown sugar. Roast for approximately 30 minutes. Let cool.
4. Mix cream and milk and heat over medium heat.
5. Whish egg yolks and 1/4 cup brown sugar.
6. When milk and cream are warm, but not hot, pour a little over the egg yolks to temper them, whisking constantly. Slowly add the rest of the cream and return the mixture to the pan.
7. Whisking constantly, cook the custard until thick and bubbles subside.
8. Cover custard and cool for a few hours or overnight. When cold, process in the ice cream maker according to your manufacturer's instructions.
9. While ice cream is being made pulse 2 of the peaches in the food processor until you have a coarse puree. Finely chop the remaining peach.
10. As the ice cream finishes in the maker, add in the puree and the finely chopped peaches to incorporate.
11. Place into a container and freeze for a few hours.

Just Made It

Whew, it got done. Well, sort of. I still have to sew on the sleeve and finish the binding. I did get it entered in the contest, though. I really like the quilting on this one, it pops.

So now, I need your votes. Go to the Craftster site between now and August 31 to vote. You will have to scroll through the entries for the craft contest to find mine. I hope that mine is the one you like the best! There are some... interesting entries. Lots of creative ideas, that's for sure.

Down to the Wire

This picture is actually a few days old. I am well in to the quilting on the 350 challenge quilt. I better be, the deadline is Friday.

We've reduced the Monster's time in daycare, so I have less time to quilt. I've been using her naps for boring things like cleaning and paying the bills. Tomorrow is a kitchen and quilting day as she will be out all day, before the mayhem of the weekend.

I can't decide about this quilt. It is either beautifully simple or simply boring. It's all about the quilting, so you'll have to give me your opinion when you see it.

People Watching at the Grocery Store

I was at the big grocery store today, picking up the basics for the week. Then the baby needed to eat. Now. So I hightailed it to the coffee shop section, parked my butt, and whipped out my boob. Now, as I normally breastfeed in a comfy club chair in my living room watching the Olympics, this afforded a whole new perspective on the world.

The Express check-out was right in front of me so I watched people with their after work purchases. People buy weird things. Well, weird combinations of things. Like 2 litres of chocolate milk, a package of the mini boxes of cereal, and baby carrots - by a man in his 30s in a suit. Or a deli salad and a big bag of oranges. Most people bought milk, refilling their fridges midweek. I am amazed by the people with only one item. A loaf of bread, a bundle of flowers, a bunch of bananas, some toilet paper.

What we buy at the grocery store is a tiny glimpse into our lives. What we eat is, I believe, a reflection of our values. Not just that some of us value the quality of our food more than others, rather that how we live is reflected in our consumer choices. It comes down to what cleaning supplies we buy, which breakfast cereal we choose to eat, or whether we're willing to buy strawberries in January.


I'm sure Rose, the regular check-out lady I seek, probably wonders why I hardly buy any veggies and never any meat. But she doesn't ask. Instead I know more about her son, a bass player in a big-time Canadian rock band. I would happily brag about the farmers I buy my veggies and meat from, if she asked. She is just there to process my purchases and make some idle chitchat. She is the face of my grocery store shopping, even if I am only buying cleaning supplies, dairy, and bread from her. So she isn't the farmer who grew my food, but she is the friendly face in the commercial giant.

The folks running through the express check-out weren't interested in chit-chat, they wanted their milk and to get home. For them, the grocery store was a means to an end. Being forced to sit down and observe the people in the store gave me a new perspective. The staff who work there, for the most part, are there because they like people, not food. So look at your grocery store as another way to connect with people, not just fill your cupboards cheaply. It isn't always about food.

Raspberry Rapture

I can't decide what I am more excited for - making ice cream for the first time or the raspberry haul we got the other night. Perhaps it is the fact that I combined these two loves and made raspberry ripple ice cream.

Walking down the alley the other night, avoiding the jackhammer noise that Hubby was making in the backyard, we discovered an unattended raspberry patch. The Beagle Lady, so-called by us because she breeds and raises beagles in her house, has a huge patch behind her fence. The Monster and I rudely snuck a few berries and continued on our way. I mentioned the patch to Poppa, our neighbour, and ten minutes later he poked his head in the door to say we have permission to pick as much as we want.

Friday night we grabbed our bowls and went down a few houses. Grandma Betty and I picked and picked despite our aching backs. The Monster had her own bowl, but it was for show only as all raspberries went directly into her mouth. Soon she realized that it would be much easier to eat them directly out of my bowl. And so she did, by the fistful. Unfortunately she wouldn't sit still long enough for me to take a picture of her messy face and raspberry heart, from crushed berries running down her shirt.

After a day of snacks and breakfast of sweet ruby goodness I decided to tackle ice cream. Nigella Lawson has an entire section on ice cream in Forever Summer. I borrowed/stole my mother-in-law's ice cream maker the last time we visited, ice cream was mine to make.

First lesson in ice cream making: read all directions to the ice cream maker the day before you want the ice cream. It turns out I was supposed to put the bowl in the freezer for at least 6 hours before any attempts at ice cream are made. That meant watermelon for dessert last night. And I now know that the freezer bowl needs at least 12 hours to freeze with my new ice cream maker.

Second lesson in ice cream making: make sure Hubby is home to keep both the Monster and the baby occupied so you can pay attention to the custard. Even then it almost curdled on me. I listened to Nigella and had a sink of cold water handy. She said if the custard starts to curdle to immerse the pot in the cold water and whisk the custard like crazy. It worked!

Third lesson in ice cream making: try to be patient after you put it the freezer to harden. Otherwise you have ice cream soup. Yummy ice cream soup! We'll see how the leftovers are tomorrow night.

Fourth lesson in ice cream making: make more ice cream. It really isn't hard - if I do it during naps or when the Monster is in daycare. I'm excited to try more recipes from Nigella, even if her custard seems a bit eggy to me. And I want to try some other recipes, like this raspberry ice cream.


Raspberry Ripple Ice Cream
(adapted from Nigella Lawson in Forever Summer)

500 ml half & half cream
100 ml heavy cream
1 vanilla bean
6 egg yolks
200 grams sugar
1 tsp vanilla
125 grams raspberries
1.5 teaspoons balsamic vinegar (make it a good one)

1. Fill a sink with cold water.
2. Split the vanilla bean down the middle and scrape the beans into the creams in a heavy pot.
3. Whisk the egg yolks and 150 grams of sugar together.
4. Heat the creams to a near boil.
5. Pour a small amout of the heated cream on the eggs, whisking continuously, to temper the eggs and not cook them outright with the hot cream. Slowly add the rest of the cream to the egg and sugar mixture.
6. Return the mixture to the stove and cook, whisking continously, until the custard no longer has bubbles on top and is thickened.
7. Immerse the pot in the cold water, add the vanilla, and whisk to chill. Alternatively, you could stir in the vanilla and set it aside to chill.
8. Once cool, follow the directions of your ice cream maker to make ice cream.
9. While the ice cream is freezing, blitz the raspberries, remaining sugar, and the balsamic vinegar in a food processor or mash together. Push through a fine mesh sieve to remove the seeds.
10. Freeze the raspberry mixture to thicken, but not set.
11. When the ice cream is frozen, but not solid, pour a third into a container. Dribble a third of the raspberry syrup over. Repeat with two more layers. Run a wooden skewer or sharp knife through the ice cream to swirl the raspberry ripple into the ice cream.
12. Freeze until set.

Sources:
Forever Summer Nigella Lawson