Category Archives: events
In honour of the fact that today is both Friday and April Fool’s Day, I thought I should post my special fish recipe for just such an occasion. I know it sounds like this could be a great dinner prank but in fact it’s just a delicious meal.
I love any excuse to honour a tradition, and today we have both the religious history of having fish on Fridays and the French April Fools tradition called “poisson d’avril” (April fish). Have you ever had someone pin a note on your back? Well, in France it’s popular for children to pin fish on someone’s back as a prank. France of course, has a large Catholic population. Catholics have considered eating fish on Friday as a sort of penance commemorating the Crucifixion for centuries. (Did you know this was originally why McDonalds came up with the Filet-o-Fish?) So, when I spent a year living in France and that particular year April Fool’s Day fell on a Friday, well, you can see how I got this recipe.
Of course, April Fool’s Fish isn’t meant only for today; the recipe is a unique combination of flavours that can be enjoyed in any season. It also pairs beautifully with aromatic white wines. I encourage you to use it as an excuse to invite people over so they can share in the experience. Maybe you can discuss future pranks you want to pull!
Bon Appetit! And Happy April Fool’s Day 🙂
Today is my mom’s 70th birthday. This is the lady who first got me cooking in the kitchen and digging in the garden. I am proud to say that she is now enjoying her own adventures, having raised a family and made a career and created beautiful artistic environments in her many homes and gardens. She has travelled through much of Europe now, and the west coast of America and Mexico. I’d like to go back to particular culinary memory though, that may have started it all.
Many years ago, my brother and I created a dessert for her birthday dinner. We wanted something that represented how elegant and classy we thought she was. It took more than a few magazines and cookbooks to find the right recipe (this is well before the internet, you see). Finally we decided on a Decadent Chocolate Mousse. My dad whisked her away for the day so that we could prepare. It took us many hours and almost every bowl and utensil she had, but we did it. The special glasses were filled with this wonderful concoction and we awaited the time to present dessert to the birthday girl.
My dad had made a lovely dinner, and after the dishes were cleared it was time. With as much pomp and ceremony as we could muster, we carried the glasses to the table and presented the mousse. I think there may have even been a sparkler. She oohed and aahed – we were pleased. So far, so good. Then came the tasting…. she took a bite and tasted, and I could see her thinking. She smiled at us and said it was delicious. Then she took another bite and began to chew. Chewing? Yes… “What are the crunchy bits in it?,” she said. “They’re really good,” she added (the sign of a great mom). I answered with utter confidence: “Oh, those are the coffee grounds. I’m glad you like it!” My dad chuckled.
It wasn’t until much later that it dawned on me – the recipe called for “2 tbsp strong coffee” but they meant brewed coffee, not coffee grounds. Well, I was only 12 years old, I didn’t drink coffee. My dad wasn’t home so my brother and I figured that “strong” meant heaping tablespoons. (Remember, there was no such thing as a Google search back then.) My mother, bless her heart, was not discouraging but rather adventurous even then. She appreciated our efforts and soldiered on to enjoy the dessert. She has said in later years that she really did enjoy it, and in fact has never had a mousse that she remembers as being as good. I love you, Mom.
The recipe we used has long since been lost in the many moves and purges of cooking magazines, but I have found a suitable replacement which does still include the coffee: Decadent Chocolate Mousse. Both Julia Child and David Lebovitz have apparently used this recipe. Feel free to think outside the box and add something crunchy if you like! I’m going to make it for my mom the next time she comes to visit, as a belated birthday present.
Whenever my husband Martin and I go on holidays, we are excited to try new food experiences. The last few years in Jamaica we have been lazy and relegated our enthusiasm to within the walls of the resort. We did enjoy trying local fruits, and traditional dishes like curried goat, jerk chicken and gizzadas (coconut tarts), but this year I wanted to kick things up a notch and rub elbows with some local foodies. I did an online search and found Zimbali Retreat, a small property in the hills above Negril that offered a demo cooking class and tour of their organic farm garden. It seemed right up our alley! I was excited and invited a couple we know who are also foodies. They had shared our Vegas experiences so I figured they would like this taste of Jamaica. We had no idea just how much fun we were going to have…
We arrived at the gate after a bumpy ride up a narrow road that bordered sugar cane plantations and an old stone church. Martin was afraid we were going to have to carry the car or abandon it if the potholes got any bigger or the road got any narrower. The sugar cane stalks knocked along the side of the car as we drove through plantation land, and as we mounted the hill a local dog lying at the edge of the road didn’t even look up. It was only a half hour drive, but I felt as though I’d been transported to another place. A short walk down a palm-covered pathway revealed mahogany beams that covered a cozy kitchen and airy sitting room, all overlooking the farm below. I felt a bit like I was visiting the Swiss Family Robinson on their deserted island! We were served a refreshing sorrel ginger drink while we cooled off. Just as we finished our last sip our tour guide arrived.
Clifford, who has been at Zimbali since the beginning (9 years ago), led us over much of the 6 acre terrain, stopping every hundred steps or so to show us another plant, most of which provided some benefit for the kitchen. We saw banana and coconut trees, pineapple plants, Caribbean oranges and grapefruits, June plums, star fruit, lemongrass, annatto, turmeric and ginger roots, breadfruit, all kinds of pumpkins and zucchini squash, beans, and then the crowning glory – noni fruit. This fruit is highly regarded as having great healing powers; the juice is said to be a cure-all. The bees on the farm love it too, said Clifford. Noni bloosom honey is his favourite.
Clifford showed us the right way to crack open a coconut (hit the 3 corners of the outer shell), and he told us about using cinnamon leaves in cooking. We learned that the bark of the mahogany trees was used to make the rich reddish-brown dye still common in Caribbean textiles. He showed us the massive African tulip trees taking over wild sections of the jungle, and how the rain brings on mango season (in May), when the fruit is so plentiful it sits in piles by side of the roads! The gardener in me was trying valiantly to remember everything he said as I tasted and smelled and strained my neck to see in every direction, absorbing every detail.
On our return from the tour we met the owners of the resort, Alecia & Mark. Alecia grew up in these hills, and learned much from her grandfather about the land and its secrets. She is a Rastafarian and has been all her life. Mark grew up in a military family and his travels as a youth gave him a desire for understanding cultures and experiencing life on a more simple scale. Both of them are “living the dream”, existing almost off the grid with solar power and the harnessing of rain water, not to mention that the farm provides about 70% of their food. This is not just an agritourism resort, it is a lifestyle, and their passion and sense of inner peace is evident when you talk with them.
We returned to the lodge dripping in sweat from the humidity. It didn’t matter. A quick splash of water on my face and a few sips of water and I was ready to get to the kitchen. Zimbali’s two chefs, Raymond and Rudolph, were already hard at work of course, and their counter was almost overflowing with the bounty from the farm. We were truly spoiled as it was only us and our friends there that day. We saddled up to the bar to watch, learn and eat.
The first course was a breaded fritter that was juicy and delicate, green in colour. It was served with an escovitch, a Jamaican pickle made with onions & peppers in a chili vinegar brine. Raymond asked us to guess what kind of vegetable he had used on the fritter and we thought we had it – zucchini! Nope, he said, guess again. It was the person in the group who is least a foodie who nailed it – green tomatoes. Not as firm as our green tomatoes and not as tangy, rather velvety soft and slightly sweet in contrast to the pickle. The sorrel reduction that garnished the plate was the crowning glory, refreshing and tart.
The next course was a sort of cake, like a crab cake but made with vegetables again, said Rudolph. Again we were stumped – cassava? No. Yam? (They had real yams as well as sweet potato on the counter, two very different things, and both used often in a Jamaican kitchen. Sweet potatoes are orange, yams are white – more fibery, not as sweet.) No. They gave us a few hints and we finally figured out it was cauliflower. It tasted much richer than I imagined cauliflower ever could, and was served with a banana purée and a sort of tropical succotash of corn, peppers and tropical fruit. It was delectable.
We were able to choose our main course, and I picked jerk shrimp, while Martin chose escovitch fish. Our friends had curried shrimp. They were all intensely flavoured and beautifully tender, and were served with a quick coleslaw, veggies in a seasoned coconut milk and a green plantain and banana rosti (shredded and pan-fried in a patty). Everything was prepared as we watched, even the coconut milk – we saw the coconut opened, the meat cut out and then shredded in the food processor, and the milk squeezed through a strainer.
But wait, there was dessert too! I groaned under the weight of lunch, but my enthusiasm kicked in. How could I miss out on a slice of Raymond’s banana rum cake with caramelized melons & papaya? The cake had no eggs but was not heavy, rather silky with a hint of Jamaican spices (allspice, ginger, nutmeg). Raymond explained that he had long ago mastered baking without eggs, as he doesn’t eat them himself. His skill was evident in the finesse of the final product. It was the perfect end to a real gourmand afternoon.
We hugged the chefs to show our appreciation and thanked our hosts profusely for their hospitality, all wishing we could return to stay and soak up the relaxing vibe. (I think on my next visit I might like to stay and experience a massage, yoga class, and a Rasta Tour!)
We hardly noticed the bumps in the road on the way back, being lulled into a sense of total relaxation after our retreat visit. Rain drummed on the car windows as the scenery went by in a blur. By the time we returned to our resort I had my second wind and was happy to tell anyone who would listen (and a few who didn’t seem to care) about what fun we had. I felt I had sampled a true taste of the tropics along with a healthy dose of Jamaican hospitality and respect, and having enjoyed it I was proudly displaying my enthusiasm like it was a diploma of achievement.
Okay, I’m taking advantage of controversy to get your attention. I do believe that food can help people to calm down and take a breath, though; sitting around a common table partaking of a meal is a good time for discussion. We learn other people’s points of view. The news about the upcoming Oscars being “so white”, that is, not having any nominees who are black – it is worthy of serious consideration. I don’t think that a specific colour is the issue, but rather that colour of any kind should not be part of the discussion, just like gender shouldn’t. The only reason I like the idea of Best Actress and Best Actor categories is that it offers a chance to recognize two performances. But we don’t give an award for Best Female Director and Best Male Director, or Best Film with Women and Best Film with Men, so why do we need to differentiate?
Thankfully, food doesn’t seem to end up in this pitfall often. Wolfgang Puck is preparing the Governor’s Ball for the 22nd year in a row, and he has a plethora of dishes for people to taste, with many flavours and backgrounds.
In an effort to bring together the many sides in this argument, I thought I would offer a few menu suggestions for Oscar night celebrations that featured a range of food from various cultures and countries. Perhaps I could encourage people to look past borders in the same way we should look past the mirror when we see people. They are all people, and this is all food. Beyond that, it’s just meant to be enjoyed, and savoured.
How about an international menu? You know, small plates from around the world, in celebration of all the countries that make great movies and have wonderful stories…
- Spanish tapas, like chorizo & prawn skewers or a Spanish tortilla of potatoes & onions… and a bit of Sherry of course
- Italian antipasto, like warm olives with some capicollo and Asiago… and maybe a glass or two of Prosecco
- French canapés, like cheese straws made from puff pastry and cherry tomatoes stuffed with salmon mousse… and a lovely aperitif like Lillet
- Indian street food, like samosas and pakoras with some mango and tamarind chutneys for dipping… and a bit of Gewurztraminer to wash it down
- British nibbles, like mini “jacket potatoes” filled with sour cream and chives or slices of roast beef with horseradish mustard on toast points… you could save the Port for later in the evening
- Hungarian sausages with a paprika mayonnaise for dipping… and a refreshing Pilsener
- German pickled white asparagus wrapped in ham… with a lager, or do you prefer a Doppelbock?
- Scandinavian smorgasbord items, like smoked salmon on dark rye or pickled herring or Swedish meatballs … and a bit of Aquavit for toasting?
- Asian bites, like wontons and spring rolls or maybe just a platter of freshly made sushi… with sake, because why not?
Or perhaps we should stick to North America, more in the range of “comfort food”:
- BBQ ribs, slow cooked to perfection? would we have to argue about what kind of sauce they had?
- chicken wings – we could have some hot, some teriyaki, some salt & pepper… but we have to include the celery sticks and blue cheese dip
- a cheese ball? or is that too corny? or maybe designer grilled cheese is better
- corny, that reminds me – we need to have chips and salsa!
- Okay, seriously now, how about quesadillas, and pulled pork sliders, and lobster rolls and salad wraps?
- If we wanted something more Canadian for fans in the Great White North, we could offer salmon jerky, fresh oysters, Alberta beef in mini Yorkshire pudding, prairie chicken drumettes in saskatoon berry sauce, Winnipeg goldeye on bagel slices, poutine (of course) and grilled scallops with fruit salsa… not to mention there’s plenty of wine and craft beer to choose from
Even with food it’s easy to fall into a stereotype of what one expects to experience; meanwhile chefs and home cooks around the world are busy knocking down the walls of tradition all the time.It is possible to celebrate history and at the same time look forward in appreciation of the innovations that came later. Sometimes there is a natural evolution to things getting better, and other times we have to think and learn from our mistakes. British food for some means overcooked roast and bland mushy veg, but that is not the case in most places anymore. By the same token I think we can work to make sure that an evening like the Academy Awards night recognizes good work, regardless of where the work came from or what kind of person (or gender or colour) created it.
I for one will still be watching, as I want to remember the many excellent memories I had in theatres this year. I want to spend an evening celebrating with my movie-going partner and soulmate. Perhaps we’ll make a list of our own and toast our very own winners. And we will continue to look for good movies to see, just like we look for new kinds of food to enjoy. A good job deserves to be appreciated, always.
Okay, have I got your attention? That’s the idea. Santa Claus is an important part of Christmas and he doesn’t just belong to the children, either. He is an integral part of the spirit of Christmas I think, and his importance has very little to do with his big list of toys.
In an age where everything is about knowing the intimate details and having the “behind the scenes” scoop, people seem to think that reality is never what it appears to be. Famous people must not really be happy; there must be some scandal behind their smiles. Spectacular events are not really as special as you initially thought; special effects done on computer and stunt doubles are the reasons behind it.
This kind of skepticism is infectious and it makes us think twice before believing anything. But does that mean there is nothing worth believing in? Quite the contrary – we need to believe now more than ever.
In 1897, Francis Church wrote that now famous letter to a young girl named Virginia. Today there is talk of the newspapers folding their operations because no one is reading them. Somehow we still need to get the message out to the world that just because you cannot understand the magic of how something good works does not mean you need to discount its value. If we are ever to achieve greater heights in our existence, there needs to be something out there we have not yet imagined to which we can aim our sights. Otherwise, quite frankly, what is the point?
In 1947, a movie was released called “Miracle on 34th Street”. It was the story of Kris Kringle, a department store Santa who showed skeptics how important it was to believe in Christmas… he also talked about the importance of imagination, and faith. All of those, he said, were wrapped up in the spirit of Christmas.
In 2004, Robert Zemeckis directed a movie entitled “The Polar Express”. In it, a child gets a ride on the mysterious train that goes to the North Pole on Christmas Eve, and he learns the secret of Christmas. Believing in the power of Christmas – with its spirit of giving, and forgiveness – is the key to it all.
I am calling on all souls that wish upon stars and throw pennies into fountains – you are needed now to share your faith with those less fortunate, and to ensure that children keep that twinkle in their eye that makes them want to believe. For you see, it is the children that save us all. Those of us who can hold onto the glimmer of wonder that comes from believing are trying to keep some of the magic of childhood with us.
And by the way, for you skeptics in the crowd, I really do know Santa Claus. I have touched his beard and felt his smile warm my heart; I have even shared coffee with him! He is alive and well, and quite busy this year I am happy to report. You see, there is hope for us yet, if we keep believing. If you would like to get in touch with him, you can always start writing again. He doesn’t mind if he hasn’t heard from you in a while 🙂
In closing, I am reprinting Mr. Church’s original letter for you here as I think it still says the right thing, more than a century later.
Merry Christmas, everyone!
From the Editorial Page of The New York Sun,
written by Francis P. Church, September 21, 1897
Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the scepticism of a sceptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no child-like faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.
Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
You tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.
No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.