The eating extravaganza at Billabong Bar and Bistro continues…..

I tasted my first Wedge salad last summer in New York City and I must admit, that I love iceberg lettuce.  For one, iceberg is the lettuce that I was raised on but also because I appreciate the density, refreshing water content and crunch.  When a really robust dressing is generously ladled on (just the way we like it), many lettuce choices don’t have the muscle to support the volume and hearty ingredients.  

I am not typically a blue cheese lover but this oil-based dressing was also chock full of a meaty bacon and I’ll admit it-I could have eaten it with s poon!  The wedge was topped with red and green onion and melon-lovely sweet and salty contrasts.

There was a pleasant (and much-needed) rest before our entrees were served.  I was most anticipating the chicken stuffed with spinach and eggplant but my fork was often drawn to the lamb shank and baramundi wrapped in a banana leaf. 

The lamb had been slow roasted with an Australian port and black cherry reduction.  The density of the glaze had permeated the rich nuggets of meat which easily pulled away from the shank.  The roast was perched  on a platform of creamy but hearty, garlic mashed potatoes.    

The stuffed chicken was covered with panko and parmesan reggiaano and then oven baked.  What was particularily intriquing was the basil and herb French toast with baked boccaccini that it was resting upon.  The plethera of tastes was further enhanced by a fire roasted plum tomato gravy.

I’m getting full, just thinking about that amazing meal and will have to save the remaining entre and dessert until next time.

Kath’s quote: “Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to have for lunch. Liberty is a well-armed lamb contesting the vote.”-Benjamin Franklin

I have only had a chance to visit the popular Billabong (on Osborne Street), once previously and that was before the bistro doubled in size by acquiring the space next door.  The new section where the dining room has expanded, has a simple decor which reminds me of the narrow dining rooms of Manhattan.  A rich colour scheme, uncluttered table tops and soft lighting provided by table lamps meant we were relaxed and at ease as soon as we sat down. 

The evening was our last opportunity to spend extended time together before I headed out to the cottage for a month long stay and so we were determined to take our time and savour the moments. 

We started with a couple of bites of a variety of tastes:

The calamari tossed in corn meal flour had its heat zipped up with chili flakes and jalapenoes.  If the heat was a bit too firey, the tzatziki could cool you down. 

Black bean, shrimp and baramundi meshed together beautifully in their spring rolls with a soya drizzle for seasoning.  We had not tasted baramundi before but liken it to our beloved pickerel.

There was shrimp from the barbie (of course)-so tender and perfectly cooked that we had to inquire as to whether they were fresh.  Of course that was impossible in the middle of the prairies but tasted that good.  A just crushed peanut sauce accompanied these.

Next up were Mrs. Keating’s Old Fashioned sausage rolls (the Keatings being family of the proprietor’s).  Unlike any I had tasted before-they were so meaty and savoury, with a flaky pastry that made a wonderful mess with each bite.

We also sampled the Kangaroo Tacos! The unusual square shape was as a result of Chef David cleverly utilizing a won ton wrapper as his crunchy holder.  The tiny pieces of marsupial were perched a top cole slaw, mango and red Thai chili dressing ensuring that the meat was well appointed. 

I know that it is hard to imagine that we were just getting started but this was exactly the case.  Stay tuned for next courses.

Kath’s quote: Once a jolly swag man sat by the billabong (a small lake).

I stayed in from the lake this weekend (on the hottest weekend of the year) for my annual visit to St. Norbert Market.  Was it worth it?  Well the amazing tomatoes that we have sliced thinly onto clubhouse sandwiches or topped with an old balsamic vinegar and chevre, and the tiny cucumbers that we added with fresh mint to our shrimp rice rolls-say yes it was!

I am reminded once again of my favourite read of this spring: Keeping The Feast by Paula Butturini.  I want to share this partial recounting of her visit to her favourite green market vendor:

“On that sunny August morning, Domenico was selling fat round heads of soft Bibb lettuce and wild-looking heads of curly endive.  He had crates of romaine lettuce, whose elongated heads form the base of many salads, and tight little knobs of red radicchio, to add colour.  He had fistfuls of wild arugula, which the Romans call rughetta and use to add a peppery bite to a meal.  He had foot-long bunches of Swiss chard, tiny new shoots of broccoli rabe, bunches of slim scallions.  He had bouquets of zucchini flowers, which Romans stuff with mozzarella and anchovy, dip in a light flour-and-water batter, then deep fry until golden.

He had flat, green broad beans, the kind Romans stew slowly in garlic, onion and tomato.  He had red and white runner beans, which housewives use to fill out a summer vegetable soup, and regular green beans, tiny,  just picked, perfect for blanching and serving with a dribble of olive oil and lemon juice.  Domenico also had the usual array of tomatoes, each with specific uses: tiny cherry tomatoes, so good halved and turned into a Neapolitan-style sauce; meaty, plum tomatoes used for endless tomato-based pasta sauces; salad tomatoes, always slightly green, as the Romans prefer them.  He had Casilino tomatoes too-small, flat, highly creased, with a sunlit, concentrated flavour, favoured by Roman housewives for raw sauces during summer’s worst heat.  He had gigantic beefsteak tomatoes, too, meat for stuffing and baking with rice, potato wedges, oil, and herbs.

That day Domenico was also selling carrots, celery, cucumbers, lemons.  He had skinny frying peppers and fat bell-peppers-red, yellow, and green-which the Romans love to roast and serve with garlic and oil.  He had yellow-and red-skinned potatoes and the tough cow corn that Europeans seem to think people as well as cows can eat.  He hat fat, glossy, black-skinned eggplants, and long narrow white ones with bright markings near the stem.  He had hot red pepperoncini, tiny peppers still on the stalk ready for drying, and several types of zucchini, some a deep dark green, others light and striated, none of them much bigger than an American hot dog, all sweet and free of seeds because of their tiny size. 

He was selling round yellow onions, sweet red onions, and flat white onions.  He had garlic and fennel bulbs, their feathery dark tips a dark, cool green,  He also had eggs, brown-shelled, as the Romans favour them, their shells never quite as clean as a shopper would hope.” 

Kath’s quote: “Farmers are the only indispensable people on the face of the earth.”-Li Zhaoxing

I tried to go back and reference the first time I heard the term “wife-saver”.  It was from my much-loved “Best of Bridge” cookbook series.  And I say tried because these cook books have been used so thoroughly over the years, that the front cover of this one (which would have included the date of publishing) is long gone.  Suffice it to say, that it was when my kids were babies and my oldest just turned 26. 

So we can safely establish that roles have changed.  But in this particular case the adage is an accurate one.  Sister #2 holds down one of those all-consuming jobs that makes weekends at the cottage particularly precious.  A time when she can sleep in, walk with the dogs, read, nap and rejuvenate for the weekdays ahead.  And so it is, that on weekends (especially long weekends), when she is assigned to the preparation of breakfasts for a gang, she dips into her “wife-saving” repertoire.

Don’t know what this was called, but it was satisfying and delicious.  Some of our gang took left over squares that they could eat on the run without reheating.

8 hash brown patties

2 cups of shaved ham (or chunks of leftover baked ham)

1 c milk

1/2 t dry mustard

4 c grated cheddar

7 eggs

1/2 t salt

Assemble a double layer of hash brown patties in appropriately sized pan.  Place ham on top.  Mix all other ingredients together and pour over top.  Cover and bake for 1 hour at 375 degrees.  Uncover and bake 15 minutes more.

Prepare for a sweet fix with this dish.  Don’t know the official name for it either but describe it as a “Pecan Carmel French Toast”.

1 c brown sugar

1/2 c butter

2 T corn syrup

1 c pecans, loosely chopped

12 slices of multi-grain bread

6 eggs

1 1/2 c milk

1 t vanilla

1 t cinnamon

1/4 t salt

Caramel sauce

1/2 c brown sugar

1/4 c butter

1 T corn syrup

To make this decadent dish even more so-we browned up split pork sausages to serve alongside

Combine sugar, butter, syrup.  Cook on med heat until sugar dissolves and it thickens.  Pour 1/2 sauce into 9 x 13 baking dish.  Place 6 slices of bread on top and then pecans.  Repeat.  Mix eggs, milk, spices.  Pour over bread.  Cover and refidgerate,  Bake 40-45 minutes at 350 degrees.  Make caramel sauce and pour over at table or when serving. 

Kath’s quote: “Often has the affectionate wife caused her husband a sleepless night and severe distress, which, had an enemy inflicted, she would scarcely have forgiven — because she has prepared for him food which did not agree with his constitution or habits.”-Sarah Josepha Hale, ‘The Good Housekeeper’

When Daughter #1 was just weeks old, we took her out for her first dining experience.  We plunked her car seat in the middle of of a table at the St. James Keg (when it was located further west on Portage Ave.) and we told our server to bring out all of our food, all at once and we would determine as we went along, how long we could linger over individual courses.  Well it turned out to be a leaisurely evening for two reasons: D was the General Manager of that Keg location at that time and all the staff were so accommodating and would have walked the floor with Daughter #1 had she needed attention.  But the fact of the matter was that she did not make a peep and slept the evening away.  Everybody was kind of disappointed because they did not get to see her open her beautiful big blue eyes.

And so it was, that our Cafe Carlo celebration was the long-awaited birth of the son of dear friends of ours.  The evening was made that much better by the inclusion of Grandma and Grandpa from Pennsylvania, whom we have waited a very long time to meet.  But the guest of honour was the newborn baby himself, who also slept blissfully throughout the entire evening.

This particular couple live in the Corydon area and often visit Cafe Carlo, ordering and sharing their favourite dishes.  They let us have tastes.  We were duly impressed with the chunks of chicken in the from-scratch gravy and authentic cheese curds in their version of Poutine, served as a “Small Plate.”  The cheese-makers at Bothwell call their curds “squeakers” because a well-formed curd, squeaks when you bite into them.

We also got to sample another “Small Plate” the portobello mushrooms sauteed with beef tenderloin tips. 

Then the new parents split a dish of ravioli and appreciated that the kitchen split the order for them to enjoy.

You will all be shocked to learn that I did not order the Spag Boo containing my fav artichokes and spicy eggplant (only because that is the dish that I always have when I go).  I opted instead for the Fett Chile.  Silky fettuccine topped with chicken, chorizo for heat, cashews for crunch and a chili cream sauce for slurp.  I dove right in to mine so that I could have my turn holding the baby.

D had the same dish as one of four courses entitled the Fantasy, including spring rolls, a salad and creme brulee. 

The Cafe was packed with neighbourhood folk out for a stroll on a glorious summer evening in Winnipeg.  We celebrated old friends, new friends and the miracle of creation.  Life is good. 

Kath’s quote:  “So where did these cravings come from? I concluded it’s the baby ordering in. Prenatal takeout. Even without ever being in a restaurant, fetuses develop remarkably discerning palates, and they are not shy about demanding what they want. If they get a hankering, they just pick up the umbilical cord and call. ‘You know what would taste good right now? A cheeseburger, large fries, and a vanilla shake. And if you could, hurry it up, because I’m supposed to grow a lung in a half hour.’” –Paul Reiser

T,C & L-love you guys!