Chills down to my toes

Bacon reminds me of the mother of an ex-partner of mine.

I hadn't fathomed meeting her the way I did. I imagined I would hop off the plane, well-dressed and fresh-looking, and charm her with my sense of humour and dimpled smile (indulge me.) She'd like and approve of me and hopefully we would become friends. But traffic from Tallahassee to Tampa had been unusually brutal that day, with several accidents lining the highway. By the time my partner picked me up and we had dinner, stuffing ourselves stupid on ribs and pulled pork, fries and coleslaw -- it was late and everyone had gone to bed.

Instead we met while I was still groggy and disheveled, and looked anything but fresh. I put a brake on my neuroses and decided to just own it, crazy bedhead and all.

Her lean body was wrapped in a slinky, leopard-print robe and her straightened blonde hair lingered around her shoulders as she drank her black coffee. As I went to shake her hand, she hugged me. "We hug around here," she said, lips breaking into a loose grin, and in the time that I knew her she turned me into one, too. It seems ridiculous to associate greasy, nitrite-filled meat with one of the most elegant women I've ever met, but sparkling wine also reminds me of her, thanks to her penchant for drinking it routinely around the pool after dinner, so I suppose the two cancel each other out.

And the watermelon. Once, as we sat around the large dining table playing a game of Sequence, she breathed enthusiastically, "If I know there's a watermelon in the fridge, I will get up at 3am and eat all of it."

Where does the bacon come in, you might ask? No, don't go believing she was as much a bacon afficionado, the way she was watermelon, sparkling wine, peel and eat shrimp, and a bowl of warm, creamy grits. It was the manner in which she cooked it: flat, on a foil-lined baking sheet, in the oven. "Easy clean-up," she said to me one hot Plant City morning as we drank our coffee and put breakfast together. Not only was she lovely, as it turned out, but she was a mean cook. It's easy to clean up, certainly, but the bacon doesn't curl up the way it does in a greasy pan.

She taught me the value of letting a man win sometimes, which shells to search for and how to heal a jelly fish wound. And one day, as I expressed growing concerns over my inability to land employment, she glanced over at me and said, "I know," as sympathetic to my pains as my own mother. It was the verbal equivalent of a bear hug and the liquid equivalent of an Old Fashioned. I couldn't tell whether it was the sparkling wine going to my head or the comfort this woman so readily offered, but I felt lighter.

There is nothing particularly innovative about bacon, or watermelon, or sparkling wine, or wonderful women who slip into leopard-print robes to crack a few eggs into a hot pan or buy you a black, cowl-necked sweater because they thought it would "look so sexy on you." But I wondered how I might be as I got older, what habits I might adopt, what I might come to value. This was a woman who clipped up her hair as she waded in the ocean in search of specific shells without regard for the laws of beach combing, whose face lit up when she'd tasted something truly delicious, who kept a spare bottle of sparkling wine in the fridge when she left the Sunshine State so that when she'd return, she'd be able to promptly pour herself a glass and sit by the pool in the damp heat of the Florida night.

As Betsy, R.W. Apple Jr.'s wife allegedly said after biting into a slice of cherry pie, "I have chills down to my toes." It seems to me it chilled Johnny, too, since he included the snippet in the article. Reading it gave me chills down to my toes, made me want to dip the tines of a fork into the sweet filling and pull on the plump fruit, holding it on my tongue until the sweet-tart flavour seeped fully through my tastebuds. And like these women, I'd like to live a life that gives me chills down to my toes, that tastes so delicious I can only sigh and smile like I've gone to a heaven where the pool water is always warm and there's an abundant supply of chilled, sparkling wine, and ladies confess to leaving their warm beds in the middle of the night for sweet, red watermelon.

Baked Raisin Oatmeal with Bacon

Adapted from Bon Appetit and Sugar-Free Mom

6 strips of good-quality bacon
2 cups unsweetened applesauce, preferably homemade
2 large eggs
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup agave nectar or honey
1 tsp sea salt
3 tsp baking powder
5 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 ripe banana, mashed
2 3/4 cup milk (I used unsweetened almond milk)
1/4 cup ground flaxseed/flaxseed meal
1 tsp real vanilla extract
1/2 lb raisins
1/2 cup roughly chopped walnuts (optional)
1/4 cup almond meal/ground almonds (optional)

1. Pre-heat oven to 350F.

2. Cook the bacon -- preferably in the oven!

3. In a large bowl, combine the eggs, agave nectar/honey, applesauce, banana, and vanilla. Mix well to combine.

4. Add the brown sugar, oats, sea salt, baking powder, cinnamon, and flaxseed. Mix thoroughly again to combine.

5. Finally, add the milk, raisins and walnuts. The mixture will be fairly loose.

6. Grease a 9 x 13" casserole dish and pour in the mixrture. When cooked and cool enough, crumble the bacon or chop into pieces and sprinkle over the top. Top with almond meal, if desired, and any additional raisins. Bake, covered, for 45 minutes, or until an inserted toothpick comes out clean.

Winner takes all

So let's call a spade a spade: there's food, and then there's granola.

Before you call me a tree-hugging hippie, allow me to convince you of granola's utter hipnocity. The lovely and talented Molly Wizenberg recently posted her fourth (!) granola recipe, one adapted from this one by Nekisia Davis featured over at Melissa Clark's love child, Food52 (if you haven't heard of this brilliant and engaging initiative, get on it quick.) It's up there right now with girl hunting, salted baked goods, and foraging for wild foods as a conversation du jour.

Also, this one uses brown butter, the ultimate "I ain't messing around" ingredient if you ask me. Mashed sweet potatoes and butter -- whatever. But if suddenly you were to spike the silky concoction with a generous splash of beurre noisette, you'd witness people ooing and slobbering all over their keyboards. Cupcakes had their day, but decorate them with a browned butter icing and see how long a couple dozen of them last. Oatmeal with browned butter elevates the dish from wholesome country fare to something that might appear on the breakfast menu of a a fine dining establishment. And rolled oats coated in warm spices, amber honey, shredded coconut, torn dates, fine sea salt, and still-warm browned butter, baked until crisp, is decidedly urban (and addictive.) It's that sweet-salty thing.

Perhaps you are one of those "not into granola" people. I've heard about your type and I don't understand you. You're one of life's great mysteries, like macaroni and cheese loaf and buffalo wing-flavoured Doritos. I'll admit that I'm not so much into storebought granola. It's overpoweringly sweet for my taste. But homemade granola that fills your apartment, naturally, with the smell of cinnamon, ginger and butter? It's a beautiful thing. And quite frankly, as you wake slowly on a Tuesday morning, 6:45am, to Joni Mitchell, sunlight edging through your curtains, pouring a serving of this into a bowl and topping it with plain, whole milk yogurt is akin to being the winner, taking all.

Indian-Spiced Granola with Browned Butter & Sea Salt

Yields about 5 cups

4 cups rolled oats
1 stick of unsalted butter
2 tbsp light brown sugar
1/2 cup wild flower honey (or honey of choice)
1 tbsp fine sea salt
2 tsp garam masala
1.5 tbsp ground cinnamon
½ tbsp ground ginger
1 cup unsweetened shredded coconut
20 dates, torn or roughly chopped
1/2 cup sliced almonds

1. Combine the oats with the spices and salt. Set aside.
2. Melt the butter until it browns and smells nutty. Watch closely so it doesn’t burn. It’ll be ready once all of the milk solids have separated and floated to the sides of the pan.
3. Carefully, combine the browned butter with the honey.
4. Using a spatula, mix the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients.
5. Bake at 325 degrees for forty minutes, mixing the whole lot every ten to twelve minutes. The oats should be amber coloured. Mix in the dates, coconut and almonds. Let cool and store in an airtight container (I use mason jars.) Best used within two weeks.

How to move up in the world

I think I've been in denial of the cold temperatures for a good month now. November was unseasonably warm in Toronto and it was easy to get carried away. Somehow I expected strawberries to appear at my local farmer's market and the flowers to start blooming again, yet here I am, nestled between the Brussels sprouts and the turnips. Not that there's anything wrong with cruciferous vegetables or tubers.

But after donning my fall trench coat for weeks (during the workday, anyway), I finally relented. I yanked out those fleecy, warm blankets from the steamer trunk in my living room. I've added an extra blanket to my bedding. I've been mingling with a pair of flannel pyjamas, nearly letting go of my tank top and shorts ensemble. Most telling, you'll find me most nights parked in front of my television watching Law & Order, mug of Lady Grey in hand. Oh, what an exciting life I lead! Rest assured, as busy as the city is, we Torontonians sleep. There might be drinks and dancing on the weekends, but come Tuesday night, we urban dwellers are undoubtedly catching up on some much-needed R&R. Even the most energetic of us need time to re-fuel. At least that's how I envision it in my world of generalizations.

And so I've made my way back into the kitchen, hovering over flames. Sounds a little Gordon Ramsay-ish, doesn't it? Well, when I'm finished cooking and you peer down into the abyss that is my sink and spot all of the dirty dishes waiting for you there, Hell's Kitchen is not much of an exaggeration. This week I listened to the Tragically Hip on repeat and stuffed mushrooms with the patience of a three-year-old. Tonight I'm planning a meal of eggs, these Brussels sprouts and this Thai-inspired salad that makes me want to pick up the Fresh line of cookbooks and see what all of the fuss is about myself. But first, we need to talk about oatmeal.

I know talking about oatmeal with others is often akin to talking about chores. Everyone knows they should be eating breakfast, oatmeal in particular, but nobody eats it, or they do it begrudgingly, or they eat it because they are doing their best to lower their cholesterol. Here's the thing. Oatmeal is delicious, or can be when prepared right. This pumpkin oatmeal is delicious, as is this carrot cake variation. Don't tell anyone, but it's also good with this chocolate hazelnut spread we all secretly adore or a generous scoop of peanut butter and jam. But it is also delicious baked. If you are not an oatmeal person or do not care to eat first thing, this is portable and tastes like dessert. Dessert, readers. And if there's one thing most people are generally game for, it's an excuse to eat sweets before noon.

I love Heidi Swanson's version. This one is clearly based on that. But berries are no longer in season here, despite my daydreaming and November's deceptively warm temperatures, and I have an abundance of crabapple sauce on hand from a pick I went on back in August. I don't know about you, but applesauce isn't something I through a lot of. Not like hummus, anyway. And as a single person living alone, it's tricky to pawn off on others. Here, come over for some...applesauce. You see why one might not keep friends. It's not exactly the same as saying, hey, come on over for some coffee and homemade cookies! (that would be spiked coffee, if you are one of my friends) or, even better, I have five bottles of wine that need to be used up, how much time have you got? This is how you move up in the world, people.

This baked apple oatmeal, conversely, is satisfying and perfect for those chilly mornings where you're caught at 7:15am 7:30am 7:45am 8:01am reaching for your robe and damning the bed again for adding yet another bruise to your collection, so that everyone at your gym thinks you're being abused from the knees down. This oatmeal goes well with coffee, a drizzle of pure maple syrup and a dollop of plain Greek yogurt, and still leaves you enough time to read an article or two and check your Twitter feed for all of the good worldly gossip and pack your lunch. It's the kind of breakfast that makes you want to hope for world peace and other crazy, nonsensical things, the kind you're most capable of believing before noon when you're jazzed out on caffeine and sugar (though knowing my penchant for not-to-sweet desserts, you can bet your bonnet that there isn't much sugar in this. At all.)

It just so happens that throwing together a batch of baked oatmeal is easy peasy. One bowl, a few on-hand ingredients, some time suntanning in the oven and poof, breakfast for the week. It's the kind of thing you can pull off even after a day crammed with meetings, the word DEADLINE ominously running through your mind at warp speed. You want to pull a rabbit out of a hat? Make baked oatmeal. It won't necessarily make you popular among friends, but it will keep you in the running. And after too many nights in front of the television drinking tea, you'll need something to keep up your credibility.

Baked Apple Oatmeal
Adapted from Heidi Swanson

Yields 6 generous portions

2 cups rolled oats
1 cup unsweetened applesauce
1/4 - 1/2 cup organic cane sugar, depending on taste
1 cup almonds, roughly chopped (feel at liberty to substitute)
2 cups milk (I used light vanilla soy milk)
1 egg
3 tbsp chia seeds (optional)
1/2 cup ground flax seeds
1 tbsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tbsp ground ginger
1/4 tsp ground nutmeg
Generous pinch of sea salt
1 cooking apple (I used Gala), sliced into thin wedges
1.5 tsp baking soda
3 tbsp vegetable (grapeseed) oil or unsalted butter, melted

Preheat the oven to 375F.

In one bowl, mix together all dry ingredients (oats, sugar, almonds, chia seeds, flax seeds, nutmeg, ginger, cinnamon, salt, and baking soda) until combined.

In a separate bowl, mix wet ingredients (applesauce, milk, egg, oil OR butter.)

Make a well in the dry ingredients and slowly whisk in the wet ingredients. You'll end up with a pretty wet batter, so you know.

Grease an 8-inch square baking dish and pour in the mixture. Top with the apples and bake, uncovered, for 35-45 minutes, until cooked and set. You'll know it's finished when the edges start to move away from the sides of the pan. Serve warm or cold with a drizzle of maple syrup and a dollop of yogurt, if desired.

An ode to coconut flour

It's quiet in here. I've been on a bit of a hiatus lately.

Part I is best called, "Weeks where I worked entirely too much and burnt myself out." Around here, Part II is titled, "...and then I got sick and was forced to relax and recharge." There may have been good food and some wine involved. I won't tell you how many glasses were consumed in the interest of keeping scorn and judgement at bay, but suffice to say there was plenty of spirited recklessness around these parts and it was whole-heartedly deserved. And, suffice to say, not a whole lot of writing has been going on. I'm sorry. On the plus side, I give you Kurt Elling. Swoon away.

Part III, I'm calling: "coconut flour, you scoundrel!"

My sister came to visit a couple of weekends ago. I gave her a tour of Toronto, which to me means a day at the beach and an afternoon shopping, nights spent eating and drinking and generally having a good time. I found a casual black dress to wear frolicking about town, and a rug for my living room, and I ate ice cream while walking through Pride. I watched the fireworks, and I read voraciously, and mostly I sat back and let life happen for a little while. La vie est belle, non?

And I made these pancakes. Now, I'm not much of a sweets-for-breakfast kind of girl. Mostly I eat granola and plain yogurt for breakfast, topped perhaps with some (fabulous) local peanut butter or chia seeds or fresh fruit. Sometimes I'll eat eggs in some form or another. In the cooler months, I'm partial to oatmeal and hot cereal. But every now and again, like clockwork, invariably a craving for pancakes takes up residence and I'm forced to submit. Unlike traditional pancakes made with bleached all-purpose flour, this version is healthy, slightly fluffy and full of fantastic flavour (even before the maple syrup.) Not much surprises me anymore. I don't feel like every turn in the kitchen automatically enlists me in some game-changing event. I don't need to re-invent classics or develop innovative dishes. A good meal is always worth celebrating, whether it is enjoyed at a four-star restaurant made at the hands of talented chefs, or a humble, simple meal prepared at home and eaten among old friends. I like cool techniques, well-considered approaches, fresh flavours. I'm always thrown when asked to prepare a dish. Most of what I make is simple fare, hardly impressive. But every now and then something comes around and changes my life, and let me tell you, coconut flour is one of those things. Now, I've known about it for a while. I've heard others sing its praises and virtues. But, like most things, it took me a while to catch on. You needn't wait for a special occasion. Wake up on a lazy weekend morning, start the coffee (or the tea!), and make these pancakes while the sun is dancing in your kitchen and your body is full of energy. Proceed with an adventurous spirit, head held high, and act, even if you don't believe in it, optimistic for a moment. Eat these pancakes with a smile, day ahead of you, and surrender to the next part, whatever form it takes.

(Photo credit: Laura Berneche)

Coconut Flour Pancakes with Blueberries
Adapted from Erica Kerwien
Yields 6 silver dollar-sized pancakes, or 2-3 servings

3 (room temperature) large eggs
1 tsp grapeseed or olive oil
1 tsp real vanilla extract
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp baking powder (make sure it's gluten-free!)
1 tsp maple syrup
2-3 tbsp coconut flour
1/8 tsp kosher or sea salt
Handful of fresh or frozen (defrosted) blueberries

Additional maple syrup and/or butter for serving

1. Separate your egg yolks from your egg whites. Beat the egg whites until they develop soft peaks. Set aside.
2. Combine all dry ingredients (flour, baking powder, cinnamon, salt) and whisk together thoroughly to incorporate.
3. In a separate bowl, mix together all wet ingredients (lightly beaten egg yolks, maple syrup, vanilla and oil), leaving the blueberries out.
4. Make a well in the dry ingredients. Slowly add the wet ingredients. Beat everything together on a low until just combined. Carefully fold in the egg whites, followed by the blueberries.
5. Heat a skillet, preferably a cast iron one, to medium-high. Add the batter. Unlike traditional pancakes, you may not get the bubbles on these pancakes that signify they've finished cooking. Instead, you'll have to check the bottoms to see if they've crisped up enough. I find that you can tell if they're finished because the ends will curl up a little.

Serve immediately with maple syrup, butter and additional blueberries if desired.

*Note: these do not re-heat well.

Breakfast here is

Pumpkin quinoa pancakes sprinkled with smoked paprika and doused in real, Grade A maple syrup.

Do you see what I see? A blood orange -- at last.

Some people grow impatient during these sessions. By people, I mean myself.

I really like these pancakes. They're so flavorful. It's surprising how well one flour can work in a gluten-free recipe; these are infinitely better than the white rice things of the old days. If you attempt this recipe, know that the batter will turn out a little thin, and that these are delicate pancakes -- they're tricky. But even ugly, they are delicious.

Take a look at that sky. Here, it's a beautiful, bright blue. Tree limbs are holding snow. Greg Osby playing in the background, "I Didn't Know About You." I find myself constantly uttering that phrase myself whenever I venture out. What about you?

An ode to quinoa, getting older, and getting...well, hopefully wiser

I turn 25 in a month and 2.2 days. I feel sort of like Lelaina Pierce in Reality Bites when she laments how she was really going to be somebody by twenty-three, and bad boy Troy comforts her by insisting all she has to be by twenty-three is herself (and proceeds to confess his undying love for her, which is neither here nor there.) I have to admit that I feel that same sort of pressure more days than not, this notion of having to be something by X age. But what are you going to do? Blog about it, of course.

As of right now my priorities involve not screwing up the yellow split pea mixture I currently have simmering in a Dutch oven on my stove, not killing my basil plant, keeping my apartment clean, landing a job, and maintaining my friendships. Oh, and reading all of my library books before I have to re-new them yet again because I've spent too much time on here and here and not enough time on my Barney-coloured sofa, my legs perched on the back. Oh July -- you have made me embarassingly lazy.

On an even more positive note, I received a (very timely!) response from a very important HR person at one very important publisher regarding one very fancy-schmansy sounding contract position. Let's not get too excited, as it was a simple request to complete a PI survey -- no invite (yet) to come into the office and woo her with my undelible charm and precocious wit (lay off the snickering.) She did thank me for my interest in the company, though, and I have to say, it's always nice to hear that. Especially if you have, like me, been applying for various jobs at said publisher for months and months without hearing anything. Three cheers for small victories! (Or should it have read !!! ? Punctuation has got me confused today, readers.)

Other reasons to be silly happy this week include, but are not limited to, the following: my sister's weekend visit; the return of a good friend to the Greater Toronto Area, at long last; what will be a marvelously silky and garlicky fava spread and soup (recipe to come); talk of podcasts; the possibility of employment (and therefore the possibility of (!) wine (!) in this apartment again -- not to mention Burrata, locally made chorizo, more fennel and carrot salads, good chocolate, Ed's ice cream, etc.), planned walks down Queen West, browsing through contemporary art galleries for free, huevos rancheros, and, speaking of breakfast foods, more of this.


The lighting is particularly awful here -- 8:30am and a crappy camera, I apologize!

It's a simple breakfast. I'll give you that. It takes a while for quinoa to cook, but not overly long, and unlike a lot of things, this breakfast comes together relatively well BC (before coffee.) The sprig of thyme is optional, but I rather like the earthy and unexpected quality it lends this bowl of seeds.

Quinoa seems all the rage this year. The new superfood and all of that. I don't really care much for trends, but quinoa? She's the ugly duckling of the pack (no offense, q.) It's easy to be won over by something so unpretentious. It's good in salads. Some like to use it as a base for pilafs (meh) or as a vehicle for tomato sauce (more meh). I think it's really fabulous in its sweeter incarnations, particularly if you wake up wanting something hearty for breakfast.



Quinoa with Red Grapes and Thyme

1 cup water
1/4 cup quinoa
1/2 cup red grapes
1 sprig of thyme or lemon thyme (optional)
1 tsp liquid honey, or to taste
Handful of walnuts, roughly chopped
Cinnamon, to taste
1/4 cup (approximately) vanilla soy milk or milk of choice, or a dollop of plain or vanilla-flavoured Greek-style yogurt

On a baking sheet, deposit the grapes and cover with the sprig of thyme, if using. Pop into a 350F oven (or convection oven, as I do) and let the fruit cook until it sizzles slightly, about 18-20 minutes.

Add water and quinoa to a pot and bring to a boil. Reduce to a strong simmer and cook until quinoa is done, about 10 - 12 minutes (you'll know it's finished when the curly tails, or the germ, appear.) Drain excess water if there is any.

When the grapes are done, discard the thyme. Combine the grapes and quinoa in a bowl, toss with walnuts, sprinkle with as much cinnamon as desired, and drizzle with honey. Pour in the milk or stir in a dollop of yogurt. Devour immediately. Serves 1.