Rematch: Zu-quinoa Soup

Check and mate!

The alterations made a huge difference to last week's creation, and tonight I ladled up four bowlfuls of sweet, fragrant, mildly spicy deliciousness.  I think Tamsin ate more than the rest of us put together!

With it, we had cheddar and apple muffins (I played with that recipe, too, but the "healthening" of them rendered them a bit drier than I'd prefer.  So I buttered them.  :)

Nom nom nom.

DG of Quinoa? Qui, moi?

(apologies for the lame title)

As I have finally driven Chris away,* I now get to make vegematarian meals more often for the Hufflings.

My latest oeuvre** was -- and really, the name is inspiring by itself -- Curried Carrot Apple Zu-quinoa (Zucchinoa?) Soup.

Ingredients:

1 tbs butter
1 onion, diced
3 carrots, diced
1 apple, diced
1/2 a ridiculously massive zucchini, diced
not enough curry powder
3/4 c quinoa
3 c homemade turkey broth (it was in my freezer)
salt and pepper, not quite to taste
goldfish crackers (to add salt/flavour)

Saute all the veggies in the butter, add the curry powder (but use more than I did... I'd recommend at least 2 tsp or 1 Tbs), add the quinoa and broth, let it simmer for... I don't know... a while... and add salt and pepper.

It was fairly bland, but I was coasting on the healthiness of it, and the goldfish really brought it to life... as long as you had a goldfish in every bite.  The next day, however, it had thickened up considerably (the quinoa was looking squiddier than the night before), and the flavours had improved.  It had redeemed itself enough to make me want to try it again, but with the following adjustments:

- 2 apples
- more curry powder and 1 Tbs lemon juice, added to just the onions before adding the rest of the veggies
- using a more flavourful broth, as the turkey was pretty bland (possibly even -- gasp! -- bouillon cubes)

I'm making it again this week, so we'll see how it goes.

Tonight, however, my esteemed colleague Chef Ailsa Encraque helped me make deeeelicious Creamy Green Spaghetti.  She picked lots of fresh basil from our garden yesterday, peeled 2 cloves of garlic, poured in some parmesan, some toasted pine nuts (I did the toasting, of course), and some olive oil,  cracked in a bunch of pepper, and then whirred them around in our little handy blender.  Today, she chose whole wheat spaghetti noodles at the store, and I boiled it up, added (the shame!) 1/2 a packet of white cheddar cheese sauce mix, some milk and butter, and stirred in half of the pesto.  I sprinkled on the extra pine nuts and served it to the critics.

Vaughn took one bite and actually shouted, "I LOVE IT!"   He is insisting that we make it again for Chris when he comes home next.  Awww.  "Ailsa, it's really good," he repeated.  What a good big brother!  Tamsin liked it too, as indicated by her kicky feet and eyes keenly watching the fork's trip back and forth between her bowl and her mouth.

And now, for a whole weekend with no lunches to make.  And peanut butter at every meal!  Huzzah!


* Literally.  I drove him to Toronto.  Ok, it's only for 10 months.  With many, many weekend visits.  But still.

** note to self:  look up "oeuvre" and make sure it means "extremely mediocre dish, lacking in flavour"

Hough Hash: Redemption

It was girls' night again, and with the boys out of the house getting all handsomed up with haircuts (and a visit to the "hamburger store", too!), Ailsa and I had the place to ourselves. It's amazing, looking back over the past 17 and a half months or so, how little time I have spent with just her, one-on-one. She's quite a delightful creature!

Last night, we played, "I'm gonna get you!" ("cachoo", as she calls it), in which I chase her and she squeals and totters away as fast as her little legs can take her, and then I grab her and squeeze her and give her kisses. And then I put her down, she says, "cachoo" and it starts again. We also read some stories, mixed up dinner and... waitaminute.

For some reason, the boys got to go to the Hamburger Store, and we were left to fend for ourselves? That's not fair! Especially when I looked in the fridge and saw just what was in there: nuffin.

This was a moment for more Hough Hash TM!*

(And this time, I did it right, as my associate will attest)

Melt (unmentioned amount; let's just agree that it was lots) butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Add 1 onion, finely chopped. Let soften, then add 2 small potatoes, diced. Stir occasionally, and cook for about 10 minutes until softened and starting to brown. Whisk 2 eggs with 1/4 cup (ish) milk, and add to the pot. Keep stirring till curds form. Add about 1/2 cup grated cheese, mix till melted. Add 1 tomato, diced, and 1 green onion, chopped, at the last minute. Season with pepper. Nom nom nom.

* still pronounced "Who Hash"

DG Presents: Dinner for Two

The boys went out tonight for some quality male bonding, involving haircuts and the dreaded Mickey D, leaving the Huff Harem (hardy har har) to their own devices.

Well, I think we won this one: I blended up some basil with 2 cloves of garlic, some parmesan, sea salt, olive oil and almonds (I was out of pine nuts), then boiled some spinach fettucine and chopped some tomato and Oka cheese. Dessert was a fresh, juicy peach.

My dining companion was quiet, but delightful. It can only be a reflection of my own ability to keep scintillating dinner conversation flowing: she fell asleep at the table.

PS: Canada Day photos have been added!

Couscous and Kids: A (Long) Cautionary Tale

First and foremost, we must differentiate between "couscous", a small grain of semolina, popular in North African cooking, and "goose-goose-your-caboose" which is a game that I play with my kids, and is pretty self-explanatory. Both elicit giggles.

"Eat your couscous," I said. And Vaughn shrieked, "No Goose-Goose-Caboose!" and laughed and laughed. Couscous is a funny word, I suppose.

Anyway.

We had a date night set up for last night. I was very excited, of course, and called to book the babysitter. To make a really long story slightly shorter (and to edit out anything that might reflect poorly on me or my attractiveness as an employer to future babysitters), I came up empty-handed.

So, I emailed the other couple and told them that I would host instead! (After all, what better way to celebrate a night out than to stay in, with one's children, and try to host a dinner party?)

Chatelaine (which frankly I haven't put much trust in since the Infamous Mojito Pork Incident) published an article titled, Home at 6, Party at 7. Well, it claimed that you could put together a show-stopping three-course meal (plus signature cocktail) in under an hour.

You're on, Chatelaine!

Before starting, I envisioned the letter that I would write:

Dear Chatelaine,

I can't believe it! Pressed for time, and needing to impress, I attempted your Home at 6 menu, and was so happy that I did! The guests were blown away, my husband was over the moon, and I was calm, collected, and a radiant hostess, for the first time ever. Thank you, Chatelaine!

And then I pictured the next letter I would write:

Dear Chatelaine,

I just tore up the glowing letter I wrote you before my dinner party, then coated the bits of paper with cooking sherry and set them alight, causing my smoke alarm to go off for the eighth time tonight. Etc.

The actual result was somewhere in between, which was a pleasant surprise for everyone.

The kids eat at 6, and it was bath night, so the plan was to bathe them right after dinner, PJ them promptly, and allow them to play till 7:30. Our illustrious guests were due to arrive at 7 (thus exposing them to only 30 minutes of the Vaughn Show) and eat at 8. What could possibly go wrong?

Since I am aware of my limitations as a home chef, and also familiar with Murphy's Law, I decided to do as much prep work before the guests arrived as possible. So, I had all my little prep bowls (thanks, Mom!) filled with minced garlic, diced onion, measured spices, etc, and the dessert fully prepared by 5:30. The dessert, you ask? Ginger-Berry Cookies and Cream, a mixture of fresh raspberries and blueberries, ginger, and maple syrup, layered with maple whipped cream and crumbled ginger wafers (they're waffer thin!). Oh, yes, and a splash of the afore-mentioned cooking sherry to amp up the flavour (and fortify the chef). So that part was done.

After bathing two squirmy and slippery little kidlets, they were pyjammified and set to play, and I started the Green Pea & White Bean soup. I preheated the broiler, threw the relevent prep bowls into the saucepan, rinsed the beans, measured the peas, and opened the chicken broth, and set it all to boil. At about 7:35 (can you believe it? Although our guests showed up about 20 minutes past 7, I was able to wrangle the Hufflings to bed and start the gametime work right on schedule!), I puréed it with my handy-blender, and moved it to a warm burner on the back of the stove.

Two courses, done! Go me!

So, at 7:38, I got started on the Dijon-Crusted Flank Steak. I made my shallow cuts in a diamond pattern(ish), smeared on the contents of yet another prep bowl, and let it sit for 10 minutes. I then boiled the water for the Toasted Tarragon Couscous*, added another prep bowl of stuff, toasted my couscous (odd step, one which I felt very sure I was burning instead of toasting, but it tasted ok, I suppose) (also, "toasted my couscous" sounds sort of naughty, doesn't it?), added the boiling water mixture, covered it, and threw my flank steak under the broiler. After five minutes, I mixed a lot of baby arugula in with the couscous, took my pancetta rounds, which in this case were genoa salami rounds, put them on another sheet, and added them to the oven, too.

Let me just pause for a moment to note that the smoke alarm goes off in my house frequently. Frequently, as in every time that I use the oven, at least once. Ailsa used to cry (as did Vaughn, when he was very young), but she's learned that it's funny (Mommy covers her ears and yells, "Very Loud Noises!"**) and also that dinner is probably almost ready.

So, when it went off for the third time, it was 8 pm on the dot, the steak was pulled out to rest, and the soup was in the bowls, with the little genoa boat afloat, filled with cheese from a goat! (Yes, I gloat.)

We even matched it with a white wine, a 2010 Silver Point Sauvignon Blanc. In (wait for it) WHITE WINE GLASSES.

Tadah!

By the time we finished our soup course (it was light and fresh-tasting, and most of the diners praised it) (kaff Test Pig#1 did not kaff), we discovered that the flank steak was, well, sort of really, really rare, and also pretty cold. We plated it anyway (because Fis said I wasn't allowed to toss it in the microwave), piled on the couscous, and sat down again with a 2009 Stump Jump GSM. In (wait for it) RED WINE GLASSES.

Tadah, again! Just for that, anyone would consider a dinner stellar, non?

Anyhoo, despite its...ok, I'll say it, rawness (and short marinating time) (oops), the flank steak was pretty good. And paired with a bite of couscous and arugula, almost gourmet. A bite of couscous by itself, though, was decidedly less impressive (as noted, in detail, by TP#1). Oh well.

We finished up with some cupcakes (from our guests - yum!) and, after half a heated game of Women vs Men Cranium, the dessert (which 'twas but a trifle) was a medium hit. It could have used some more texture, such as adding the cookies at the very last minute.

So what does this have to do with kids?

Well, the lucky little Test Piglets got to sample the entire menu tonight for dinner!

Vaughn took a sip of the soup. "Do you like it?" I asked. "No," he said.

He did "ok" with the steak (usually the kid bellows "Steeeeaaaak!"), and, well, only a fool would give a toy like couscous to a 2-year-old or his baby sister. Couscous apparently looks like sand, and is fun to pile, but not to eat. I've never seen Ailsa turn away from any food (including the soup course), but she turned away and spat out the grains while giving me an infuriated what-do-you-think-you're-doing/I'll-toast-YOUR-couscous look.

The cautionary bit is more of a Public Service Announcement about how much couscous it takes to fill a whole dining room:

1 teaspoon.

* Tell you what: I'll share my awesomeness. Article and recipes are here.
** Anyone? Anyone? Oh, fine.

Date Night!

Well, we did it.

We got a babysitter, and went OUT on a DATE. ALONE.

It was AWESOME.

Fred, Babysitter Extraordinaire, and his mom Kathy (just for the first experience!) came over at 6:30, and we gave them a whirlwind tour of all that is Vaughn, then we headed out for dinner at one of the nicest restaurants in town (note: there are really only 3 nice restaurants in town, but I think this is the nicest), DeVine.

Let me back up a second: I wore a new top from Costco (it's quite nice, surprisingly), and -- get this -- my skinny jeans. Let me repeat: my SKINNY jeans! Yaaaay! Well, yaaaay for lycra and stretchiness in jeans, really. I put in an extra workout on Saturday afternoon, just to make sure they'd fit.

As Chris pulled -- and Kathy pushed -- me out the door, Vaughn looked devastated that we were leaving him behind! Ok, actually, he looked perfectly content, the little stinker. But I knew he'd realize it later, and THEN he'd be upset!*

We were seated right away, and I bonded with our waiter right away. I ordered a "seduction" martini, which was deliciously made of muddled grapes, vodka, and litchi liqueur, and Chris ordered a Campari. The waiter looked lost, and I said, it's orange, and reeeeallly nasty. And he said, "Oh, THAT stuff! I didn't think anybody drank it!" But they didn't have any, so Chris got a caesar, instead. (aside: clam juice? seriously, why do people drink it?)

We started with appies: a cilantro-mushroom-chicken soup for me (not TOO mushroomy), and duck confit spring rolls for my date. So far, yum.

We then ordered a bottle of wine (note: I haven't had more than 1/2 a glass of wine since last April**) and our mains: I chose a roasted chicken stuffed with sourdough, with a stack of scalloped potatoes and veggies, and Chris ordered the pork tenderloin, stuffed, and wrapped in sausage (pork wrapped in pork! what more could you want?), accompanied by veggies and spaetzle. Nom nom nom.

Dessert was also fabulous: I had the walnut cake with an apple compote, aged cheddar, black pepper ice cream and a drizzle of a cinnamon wine reduction, and Chris ordered a chocolate mousse bombe. DeVine was divine, all around. Adult conversation, reconnection, awesome.

We finished up the bottle of wine by about 9, at which time I said, "Great! We can make it home before Vaughn goes to bed!"

To which Chris said, "No, we're not going home until he's asleep."

So, we strolled down the street for less than a block to Twist, a tapas and wine bar, and split another 1/2 litre of wine (oooooh, goodbye wagon! I don't miss you at all!), while listening to live Spanish music. It was amazing. The whole night felt like... well, like us. Like our lives used to be, even when we were living in Ottawa. It was fun, elegant, full of good wine and good drinks, and I realized how much I missed our life.

We got home at 10:40, where Fred didn't look stressed at all, Vaughn was peacefully sleeping, and Kathy nicely didn't point out how drunk we were. And I raced up to watch my son sleep, and realized that this is good, too.



*apparently, everyone involved had a fabulous time, and V-man didn't miss us at all, the ungrateful wretch.

**before any nursing nazis comment, YES, I pumped-and-dumped, although I figured that the boozy milk would have been excellent in a Sunday morning coffee.

Flashback to March: Easter Feasters!

In which the whole fam damily (cK and the K-rents - which, Dave Barry, would be an excellent name for a rock band) has many adventures, once Dad recovers a bit from the worst-sounding chest cold ever. Photo highlights include Games Night, in which everybody else obviously cheated at Scrabble, Cranium, cribbage, etc. and lots of DG-ing (and D-God-ing, too).


Easter Sunday started well.


I went out for a run through the coulee (quite unlike coulis, for those of you unfamiliar with Hatular topography), to the tepee and back, in wind so strong that I was tempted to walk/throw up/lie down/launch myself into the coulee on several occasions. I believe that it's about a 6km route, but it took me 40 minutes of intense exertion in order to return home, red-faced and nauseous. The joys of fitness, I know.


After a stretch, a heavenly shower, and a quick nap, I was ready to start cooking again.


Let me back up. The 'rents had arrived on Thursday night, and it was a fiesta for gourmets and gourmands alike, every night. After a long day of travel, my parents were treated to a nice little spread of cranberry-hazelnut rainforest crackers, cream cheese, and a cabernet paste, with scotch for the boys and wine for the girls, followed by Mom's chicken casserole, tweaked and en-healthened by me (less rice, half fat cream of chicken and celery, light mayo, potato chips crumbled on top... ok, I didn't en-health the chip topping -- it's too good!).


Good Friday got us up and moving with a nice hour-long walk through Kin Coulee park, then we took Dad, who suddenly developed a bad cough, home. Chris and I started on our Domestic Goddess- and God-ing; he prepared an amazing meal of salmon with marinated red peppers, olives and sun-dried tomatoes (he stuffed a chicken breast with the same ingredients, plus feta cheese, for me), while I started the prep for the previously-mentioned pork and beans chili mole, which apparently tastes better after sitting in a fridge overnight. Easy preparation, once you cut the pork tenderloin up. Luckily, I have a sous-chef, Christophe Encraque, to do that for me.




Meanwhile, we got Mom and Dad totally hooked (but no worse than we are) on Heroes. Chris went out for his run, and I made a warm potato salad (mini potatoes, a few hard-boiled eggs, some green onion, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, grainy dijon, and a touch of mayo) and a green salad. Appies of brie and Madagascar peppercorn cheese, as well as a nice PC pate started us off. Yum!




Let us now briefly discuss Games Night. Frankly, some of the "adults" participating in these games are too smug for their own good - you can't be a sore loser AND a poor winner! You just can't. That's all I have to say about that.

Saturday was the dinosaur day (from previous post), so I had the day off of cooking, aside from the cornbread to go with the chili. Chris, meanwhile, put the strawberry rhubarb tiramisu together, and made a little one for a "tester" with dinner. The chili was reheated, the cilantro and chocolate (the secret ingredient! shhhhh...) were added, and it was ladled into bowls, sprinkled with grated cheese, some green onions, some chopped tomatoes, and a dab of sour cream. We opened up a bottle of Ravenswood Vintner's Blend Zinfandel, which was paired with the chili in the magazine -- we figured that they probably knew best -- and had another amazing meal.

Before bed, we prepared everything we needed for a delicious breakfast casserole (sausages, hashbrowns, eggs, and gravy, in a crescent-roll crust)... it just didn't end!

Easter Sunday was nice - we started with brunch, then I don't believe we needed to eat again till dinner. We followed Chatelaine's Easter dinner menu, and ended up with a delicious glazed ham, roasted carrots and asparagus, and a dill-icious orzo and belgian endive salad. Somehow the chefs didn't kill each other throughout (a bonus of finally having a bigger kitchen!) and everything made it to the table at the same time.

Everything was absolutely delicious (Ok, the carrots were a bit crunchy, but that means they have more vitamins, right?), and we ate so well, had tons of leftovers, and still have half a ham in our freezer! Chris left early on Tuesday, and I didn't have to cook for the rest of the week!

More photos:

Dinner is served: Ooooooooh....Aaaaaaaaah...

Vegetarians, avert your eyes. I give you Ham!

We had a little adventure on the way to the Medalta Historic Pottery Site:

And what do I do with myself when Chris is away?

Hey, it still fits!

Adventures in Cooking: (Rat-a-too-ee) by Numbers

Becoming a DG (Domestic Goddess): the Quest continues

Last night's challenge was inspired by a totally fantastic Disney movie of the same name. The main difference between me and the chef from Ratatouille is that he's a clumsy redhead who has a Very Talented Rat on his head, controlling his cooking abilities, whereas I am just a clumsy redhead who WISHES she had a rat on her head... but I digress.

A little background on preparation, etc.

As I had a gym date with Meaghan after work yesterday, I knew I'd need to make a quick meal when I got home, since I also knew that SOMEONE would be cranky and hungry. We'll call this imaginary person "Fis".

I decided to start on Tuesday night, chopping and sorting all of my ingredients. Therefore, when Chris or I got home on Wednesday, we would just have to add the numbered baggies to the giant pot, and cook away! Also, it gave me something else to report to Chris on what I did all night, besides "my nails."

I peeled and chopped a medium eggplant and 2 unpeeled zucchinis into "1-inch cubes" (actually 2-inch rhomboids - my chopping needs work). They went into my "Ratatouille-by-Numbers Container #1". Three-quarters of a medium onion was chopped and put into baggie #2. After that, 2 red bell peppers were cut into (sorta) 1-inch (kinda) squares, as was one of those previously-mentioned one-clove garlics. They went into baggie #3. Everything went into the fridge, along with a baggie with two chicken breasts*. The big pot was put on the stove, with the salt, pepper, thyme, bay leaves, olive oil, and a can of diced tomatoes beside; everything was ready to go.

The creation of a culinary masterpiece

I got home at about 7:20 (Meg and I not only did shoulders and chest, but she also saved me from Creepy Gym Guy twice...then we needed a salad to wind down afterwards), and preheated our giant Mario Batali Italian Essentials 6 qt. Pot (thanks, Sean!) with a bit less than 1/4 cup olive oil, on high. In went the first baggie. For about 10 minutes, I stirred and flipped, until the zukes and eggplant were sort of golden. They were then removed, and the heat was reduced to medium-high.

Next, the onion baggie was emptied into the pot, with 2 more Tbs of oil (note that I didn't use the term "low fat" to describe this dish), and sautéed until it was translucent. Meanwhile, I chopped the chicken into wee bits, and added that, too. When the chicken was browned, I emptied baggie #3 in, and stirred the peppers and garlic around till they were soft.

In went the tomatoes (drained), with a few extra cherry tomatoes from Meg's garden, some thyme, a bay leaf, not enough salt** and pepper. Covered, the heat reduced to low, it simmered for 5 minutes. I added the eggplant and zucchini back in, stirred it up, and let the flavours meld for 20 minutes, then added the final touches: about 3 Tbs. finely chopped black olives and 1/4 cup of fresh basil from my garden. I ladled it into bowls, and served it...

The verdict

Very good! Chris would "ask for it again"! It's a beautiful dish with vibrant complementary colours, a great smell, and good texture, but would need more protein next time to boost the nutritional value. Also, I was so focused on the main dish that I neglected to add any carbs for the resident marathoner... next time, I'll make tea biscuits too.

This is an actual, unretouched photo of my ratatouille.

*Ratatouille is generally a vegetarian dish, a chunky, hearty, savoury vegetable stew, but hey, our household needs protein to maintain its MBQ (manly biceps quotient), so chicken had to be added, too.

**I consistently under-salt, which I contend is better than over-salting, but I hope to get to a happy medium at some point.

Adventures in Cooking: The Great Caper Caper

In my ongoing quest to epitomize Suzy Homemaker, I have been reaching for my cookbooks more and more often. My brief exposure to the Food network on motel cable has taught me that good chefs taste their food as they cook (so THAT's how they "season to taste"!) and that, more importantly, there are more interesting meals out there than grilled chicken and steamed veggies (I know! I was shocked too!)

Sunday's trip to the grocery store yielded some new ingredients. Turkey scallopini (which I think is Italian for "thinly sliced" (hey, I'm right!)) was on sale, so I thought, why not? We hadn't had Italian dressing, the easiest basic marinade ever, in the house for over a year. Wee little asparagi were well-priced, too, so I picked some of those up, as well. I had capers in the fridge from a previous foray into gourmet cookery à la Donna Hay. (Great cookbook from Ryan and Nouha!)

Back at home, I dropped the scallopini into a glass dish and drizzled in a bit of Italian dressing, turned to coat, then put it in the fridge. I ran out to the store to get a can of crushed tomatoes (I knew I forgot something), and rolled up my sleeves.

I sautéed half an onion and this really neat one-clove garlic (Chantal sent some home with me from Kelowna - it's very, very garlicky!) in some olive oil. I then added the can of crushed tomatoes and a splash of Tina's homemade wine (heh). It boiled for about 15 minutes, then I added a bay leaf, some oregano, ground pepper and a tablespoon or so of capers, and reduced it to a simmer. It sputtered away messily, spitting tomato bits onto my stove, walls, and floor for the next 45 minutes.

I put the giant pasta pot on to boil. Once the linguini was in and bubbling, I was in Go Mode*.

I used a close approximation of Mario Batali's roasted asparagus recipe (clip off the ends, toss with olive oil and salt, then roast for 10 minutes in a 500-degree oven), but made a few changes to the sauce (no hardboiled egg to mix in with the red wine vineger, olive oil, capers and green onion) and to the oven temperature, as I wanted to cook my (now breaded in "homemade" bread crumbs (I forgot those, too) with oregano, pepper and parmesan) scallopini at the same time (Chris is funny about frying stuff, so I decided to try to keep everything as low fat as possible) - so 450 it was.

To drink, I took the rest of Tina's wine, and mixed up what I fondly refer to as "Hooters Sangria" - wine, OJ and fizz (in this case, diet 7Up), plus a splash of Grand Marnier to classy it up a bit, and some ice.

Everything was ready at the same time. The linguini was drained and plated, then doused in the tomato-caper sauce and sprinkled with a bit of parmesan. The golden brown scallopini rested just beside the vibrant red sauce, and the dark green of the asparagi was sprinkled with the sauce for added texture. The asparagus had nice crispy ends, the flavours blended well together, and Chris toasted me with his crystal glass full of sangria.

Go me, I thought.



* Go Mode: For those that have ever watched me cook, this is the exact time that you do NOT want to watch me cook. If there is any kind of time limit or coordination of items involved, the kitchen is the wrong place to be for you; the adjoining room is also too close, in fact, and any comments, suggestions or "tips" should be kept to yourself. Consider yourself warned.