Recipes across the miles

In an age when technology allows us to find out almost anything with a Google search, it may seem odd to think of exchanging recipes personally with someone. But I will admit I still enjoy the chance to get a personal recipe from another cook, in their own handwriting. I have more than a few ingredient-stained pages glued in an old journal that I still cherish as one of my favourite cookbooks. It is not just the bits of ingredients on the page that adds to the magic of cooking the recipes and tasting them again and again. I think herein lies the true root of soul food.

This weekend I am making a recipe I call Best Friend Banana Bread. It’s an old favourite, one that comes from  one of my best and longest-held friends, a soulmate who currently lives in England. This recipe is one she sent to me on airmail paper about 30 years ago, as one of her favourites. In those days she was living in her home country of South Africa, and had just started a family with her new husband and daughter (my goddaughter). It’s a wonderful combination of health food and decadence, and I love it for that as well as how it reminds me of my darling friend.

We have shared many great recipes over the years. I sent her my Mom’s Brown Sugar Shortbread recipe, and she sent me the one for South African Milk Tart. In my movie catering days, her recipes for bobotie and carrot cake were favourites with the crews I fed. And when she brought her family to Canada so we could share Christmas together, they were amazed at my husband cooking turkey in the BBQ, and they loved his French Canadian traditions of tourtière and bûche de Noel. Food was one of the ways that kept us connected across the miles and it added to our shared memories when we could get together.

I spent a week in England at my friend’s house 8 years ago this weekend, to catch up and join in the celebrations for her 25th wedding anniversary and my goddaughter’s 21st birthday. It was amazing to think that we had been friends almost 30 years, since my first trip to Europe. We hadn’t seen each other for 7 years, and yet as soon as I arrived, we sat down at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and some biscuits and picked up where we left off like it had been last Sunday. I could feel my soul filling up like I had stopped in at the gas station. All week long we savoured moments, many of them around the table.

My husband and her husband shared time at the stove – hers loves to cook, and with mine being a chef the two of them are often engaged in a sort of kitchen chat. It’s a bit like that Actors Studio show, where you have this interview/conversation between an expert and an admiring and not unknowing layman. Martin shared some of his secret spice blends on that visit, and he got to see a pheasant prepared for a weeknight dinner like it was chicken. The grand finale was the men cooking Smoked Salmon Eggs Benedict for the group of 12 staying at the house – all hot and perfectly cooked!

Martin is at the stove behind Vic and Chris, who are calmly assembling plates – impressive, no?

The results were served hot and with bubbly, no less!

After coming back home, I felt as though I had been replenished. I posted some new recipes in the archives for her husband Vic to try – poached eggs in red wine sauce is one I know he found interesting! And Martin became a new lover of Sticky Toffee Pudding; he used Merle’s similar recipe for the South African Cape Brandy Pudding as a starting point for his own recipe which he now cooks for clients.

We met again in person a few times over recent years while they travelled but I was ever so grateful that we had a chance to stay with them in Senegal where Vic was stationed up until the end of 2019. It was another lovely opportunity to share recipes and time around the table, reminiscing about the many memories we have made together. We ate delectable African seafood and sampled coconut and mango jams with the French pastries available in Dakar, courtesy of the colonists. Merle and Vic spoiled us again. 

The kitchen continues to be one of the best places to stay in touch across the world it seems, and I like the idea that our friendship might help warm some other hearts as well. Martin and I are hoping that when the world gets back to some kind of regular existence, we can finally host our friends in our kitchen here in the Okanagan and toast to our fantastic history across the miles.

two soulmates, out on the town (London, 2013)

We’ve still got it, even after all these years! (Senegal, 2019)

New and improved! – but if it ain’t broke…

I tried multiple times over the Canadian Thanksgiving weekend to post a collection of my kitchen pics. Each and every time, I was foiled at the last minute with the message “There was a problem with your post. Please try again later.”

The whiz kids over at Facebook have been “improving” things, putting together a new look and working towards integrating Instagram and Facebook so we “can manage them together for a smoother experience”.

With no reason as to why my post would not complete, I can only assume that by not already jumping into the new format (which I don’t want to do anyway), I am bucking the system.

I can get used to changes, and I understand technology advances and we have to go with the flow for the most part. But to me this is like being forced to use an alternative ingredient in a recipe when I like the original combination just fine. I don’t want avocado brownies, I want brownies with brown butter and melted chocolate!

Does anyone else feel this way? Am I the only one who doesn’t want to adapt every time something shifts? Couldn’t we have the option to stick with a classic now and then? You can have your avocado brownie, I just want mine the regular way.

In the spirit of traditions and preserving something of nostalgia, I am posting my pictures here. Perhaps this is a sign that I should be blogging more and stepping away from Facebook as a Gourmande. I just hope there will still be some engagement.

Brunch on the deck in October! Talk about the good life #blessed

There is nothing like garden tomatoes, basil and greens to honour the hard work spent in the dirt. It was worth every blister, callus, broken fingernail and tired muscle.

A year ago this weekend we headed to Morocco for the trip of a lifetime, our 20th anniversary celebration. We won’t be travelling to exotic places anytime soon, but we can bask in the flow of their flavours.

One of the great things about travel is coming back to appreciate what we have at home. Pairing a favourite #BCwine from Tantalus Vineyards with an exotic meal was the perfect foundation for the evening.

This time of year is all about preserving the bounty – we have frozen and dried and canned – chutneys, compotes, sauces, pickles… It will cheer us during the dreary days in winter.

Baking sourdough bread has become my meditation. This lovely addition to my collection of accessories for the baking process makes me smile every time I use it – thanks, Your Green Kitchen

The last fruit to be harvested is the quince. I know when they are ready when they seem to glow from within.

Ella has a great nose for ripe fruits and veggies. She helped me choose the pumpkins for our Thanksgiving dessert.

Thanks to the wonderful team at Paynter’s Market for such delicious ingredients! 😋

Thanks to Mumsy for such a great recipe –her pumpkin cheesecake tastes as good as I remember from my childhood!

Having only two people at our table, a Thanksgiving feast was not practical. The last big cooking task then, was to mix the Christmas cake ! I chose Mary Berry’s recipe this year, having seen her make it in lockdown.

This was a full family effort, with everyone there in spirit. I managed to have a group call with my brother and his lady in Vancouver and my mom in Mexico. We all made our wishes as I stirred the batter, and shared virtual hugs – and a few nostalgic giggles – to seal the deal. The crowning glory for the cake was the Courvoisier cognac that came from my late Daddy’s liquor cabinet.

Surviving, one bake at a time

I’m going on a bit of a rant – if you’d just like the foodie part of this tale, skip over the section in italics. I won’t mind, really.

It’s been 65 days since the covid-19 pandemic was officially declared. Hubbie and I went into self-isolation then, having already started to prepare for some of the challenges.

We are movie fans; you’d think we would have seen the signs. But then the characters in the movie never see the signs until it’s too late to do anything.

I’m a mostly optimistic person. Our lifestyle was already one that involved trying to be grateful and make the most of moments, so we looked for the positives:

• Canada is a relatively safe place, with universal health care and plenty of infrastructure
• We live in a smaller community where there were initially no outbreaks
• Spring is traditionally slow for our business, so the initial lack of work was manageable

Following the movie analogy though, everyone knows that a Polly Anna story doesn’t sell. And Mother Nature loves that guy Murphy.

You know the rest of the story after this point – it hit the fan. Once we passed into the third month of this with no real end in sight, I decided that I need to regroup. I can’t listen to more news or read more articles or see more memes – I need a chance for my brain to focus on something else, something that involves an accomplishment. A bit of that will refuel me for what comes next.

I am so very thankful one of my passions is something as essential as food. It’s easy to lose myself in the garden or the kitchen.

At Rabbit Hollow we have the garden and the kitchen together in summer!

Spring is the beginning of gardening season – my grubby green thumbs could not be luckier. I have weeded my heart out and transplanted all my seedlings, the first time ever on schedule. But the garden takes months to deliver its bounty.

My real saving grace has been baking. Okay, and working out – ‘cause someone has to eat all those goodies once they come out of the oven 😁

I have to give a shout-out here, to Matthew & Erika and their team at Bread Ahead Bakery in London. I stumbled upon them early in the lockdown and quickly became a “breadaheader”, watching their live Instagram baking tutorials. I learned about sourdough and pastries, got recipes for numerous classics, and found a way to mark my days with the accomplishments of treats to share with my guy, and anyone else whose doorstep was willing.

Sourdough – and amaretti

Sourdough – and cinnamon buns

Sourdough, and chocolate chip cookies (are you getting the theme here?)

It may sound silly that following baking videos kept me sane, but it’s true. The sense of community I feel with food is truly magical. Cooking and eating allows us to experience all our senses, and sharing food is the most basic gesture of gratitude and respect.

What is my point to all this rambling? Honestly, I’m not sure yet. But I do know that food brings people together – even when they have to be apart.

I wish I had the finances to provide meals or even snacks for those less fortunate. All I can manage is to offer smiles to friends and loved ones, and share my passion in hopes it will spark someone else’s fire. At least in sharing we have a sense of camaraderie. If we are all in this together for the pandemic, why not be in something together that offers hope and a smile?

So, I’ll get up tomorrow and decide what I’m cooking (after I work out 😉) Tonight my chef hubby and I filmed our dinner prep on Facebook and it felt good, to wave at friends and share little tips. Life finds a way to persevere.

We will keep going, a few weeks at a time, just like they tell us now. Where will it lead? To the table, for another meal, more sustenance. Each season has its purpose. I have faith that in practicing my skills I will find a way through.

Does it seem logical to anyone else that if Murphy’s Law is consistent, then if anything is going to go right, it will do so at the best possible moment? As Matthew kept saying in all those tutorials, “Practice, practice, practice!”

Busy baking away in my first online cooking class. Boy, were those doughnuts good! 😋

Life is like a loaf of bread

I’ve been spending consistent time baking sourdough bread since the world went sideways with covid-19. As I’ve gotten into the rhythm of it, many thoughts have floated through me. Baking has been my meditation, a good thing since it’s not yet gardening season – my other therapy. I thought I’d share some of my musings here, for posterity’s sake.

Life is Like a Loaf of Bread…

Slow to react, but almost always there if you don’t give up on it.

Unpredictable, but rewarding in so many ways.

Requiring many steps and various skills that aren’t necessarily related to each other.

Complex – not all of its parts are loved by everyone.

 

 

Not as easy as it looks – and it doesn’t look easy!

Able to reflect the character and mood of its maker.

 

 

 

 

Worth the time and effort it takes to produce something for which we can be proud.

Takes time and patience and extreme conditions to succeed to the utmost.

 

Beautiful in all its forms.

Meant to be shared. 

Wishing you all happy moments in this new crazy world, whether they be alone in your kitchen or virtually with your loved ones. Stay safe, stay home and be kind. 

I Can’t Wait… Have to Bake!

It’s been hot the last couple of weeks. So hot the last thing I wanted to do was turn on the oven. I don’t know what was worse, having all those ideas of baking pies and crisps and pound cakes that incorporated all the fruit coming into season or sweating through the muggy days with only a small air conditioner that was as overwhelmed as me.

Finally today it clouded over and cooled just a little. I whipped out an old magazine and started the quickest recipe I could remember – fruit streusel muffins I used to make when I first started baking. I had peaches sitting on the counter, so away I went!

 

About an hour later, I was duly rewarded. Not only did the house smell divinely delicious. there was a rack of muffins proudly displaying themselves on the kitchen island.

I did not hesitate. I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee, grabbed a side plate and a dob of butter, and sat myself down with a warm muffin. Nirvana was the word that came to mind.

It’s supposed to warm up again tomorrow. But we are coming to the end of summer, and there is still plenty to harvest. The fast has been broken, and I feel a burden has been lifted from my gourmand soul.

Not to mention there are more muffins awaiting consumption. I might just have one for breakfast…