As I have explained in this space before, I love both fiction and non-fiction with food themes and I especially enjoy when the book is placed in a setting that I am familiar with, in most cases a place that I have visited (because very few books are set in Winnipeg or Manitoba).  Having said this though, if you have not read The Republic of Love by Carol Shields you must as it is not only set in Winnipeg, it writes about many familiar Winnipeg landmarks.  In addition, it is just a fabulous read.  But I digress.  When reading food-themed books, I particularly appreciate when a special meal is being prepared perhaps to mark an occasion or a to celebrate with a certain group of friends.  I often ear-mark these locations while I am digesting a book, in order to go back and savour them later.  Sometimes, recipes are even included-my favourite reads.

Naples

Well I hit the jackpot with Mediterranean Summer, not only is almost the entire book written about the preparation of meals on a private yacht by a chef but many of their ports of call, are places in the world that I have visited and quite literally fallen in love with: Naples, Monaco, Cinque Terre, Positano and the Amalfi Coast.  I really enjoyed the writer’s transparency about his cooking career, especially his frankness about places that he was dismissed from and his insecurity in pleasing the owners of the private yacht, la Signora in particular.  One of the reasons that he is so tentative around the matron of the ship is that he instinctively understands that she knows her way away a menu and a kitchen.  In this excerpt, she is in the galley.

Monaco

La Signora started to cook., placing a little of each oil in the pan while contemplating if she should add more of either.  The onions and the garlic went into the pan to heat with the oil, then simmered slowly to soften and release their aromatics.  She slowly tossed them with a wooden spoon, giving this initial step a lot of concentration to seemingly find the place where a cook becomes focused on the pace of cookery.  She added some of the drained tomato water to the oil to braise and soften the onions.  After tossing them around for a couple of minutes, she scraped out the pulp of each piece of onion and remained the remaining outer layers from the pan, voicing her theory that onions should not be visible in a dish since the solids are hard to digest.  I had never seen anybody do this before.  No wonder she cooked with low heat and asked me to cut them into large pieces.

Riomagiore, Cinque Terre

Then she added the tomatoes and chilies to the pan.  As the tomatoes heated up, the liquid around them came back to a simmer, she carefully crushed them to release more juice.  At the same time, the tomato pulp began to blend with the oil in the pan.  Then she added the lobster-claws, knuckles, and bodies first with any of the water that had fallen to the bottom of the bowl.  After four or five minutes, while she tossed the pieces in the oil, she added the tails, all the time keeping the heat at an even simmer.

Prairiano, Amalfi Coast

I had no idea if I should be making conversation, and I certainly didn’t want to correct any of her cooking, so I found it easier to just sit at the edge of the mess table bench and watch.  In fact, she didn’t need any help.  She cooked with a confidence that impressed me, not only her handling of the ingredients but with her eyes and hands were telling her.  But even better than how she cooked was the way she looked-calm always in perfect posture, every movement and task methodical and precise.  It was clear she’d done this before.

Ravello, Amalfi Coast

Finally the silence got to me, and out of left field I asked her a questions: “Juts curious signora, how come there are no women in the crew?”

She chuckled and made a gesture toward the fo’c’sle,  “With these conditions, do you think a woman could stand it?  There’d be too many problems.

She checked for seasoning, added another chile, and pulled the pan from the stove when the lobster meat in the tails turned opaque.  She kept the bodies in the sauce for a short while longer, gently crushing them with a wooden spoon to get as much flavour out of them as possible before discarding them.  It was hot and humid in the galley, the air thick with the smell of cooked lobster and simmering tomato sauce.  I noticed a light mist of perspiration had formed across the back of la Signora’s neck and shoulders.

‘”Bene,” she said smiling at the results as if just completing a painting, “now I leave the rest to you.”

And so their Mediterranean Summer continues, as I yearn for another one for us.

 Our amuse bouche at Ristotante La Strada, Praiano, Amalfi Coast

Love-that is all.

On many calendars Wednesday, February 13, 2013 is the beginning of the time before Easter known as Lent. “Mardi Gras” when literally translated means Fat Tuesday or a time to indulge in sugars and fats before the Lenten fasts begin.

I am often in Mexico for this day, when Carnivale is celebrated with the same intention. The time is spirited and festive with colourful costumes, all night dances, parades and other such merry-making.

We love New Orleans. The city, especially the French Quarter is a fascinating place to stay and the eating adventures are unequalled. So any time an opportunity arises to dine Louisiana style, we grab it.

Now if you can’t get away to celebrate Carnivale or Mardi Gras, fear not, for Mardi Gras is once again coming to Winnipeg! We plan to attend and have an authentic Louisiana dinner at the Food, Oyster & Wine Bar that will seat 300 and be set up at the Winnipeg Convention Centre.

We will have the opportunity to choose between French Quarter Gumbo, Crab Cakes or even Alligator Fritters.

I was recently invited to a preview event at the Winnipeg Convention Centre- a “Mini” Gras, so to speak and was able to sample some amazing food!

At the preview, my first taste was of a Fried Oyster and Provolone Po’ Boy Sandwich.  These are served on every corner in the French Quarter and are the equivalency of a sub.  Authentic Po’ Boys start with a classic French baguette that is sliced open and smeared with a spicy mayonnaise.  If you decide to order yours “dressed”, then it will be adorned with shredded lettuce, tomatoes and pickles.  A huge fried oyster in a crunchy batter is then wedged inside before the baguette is closed.  If you are not inclined to oysters, not to worry, as the result is a very mild flavour or you can choose beef or pulled pork when you attend one of the two evenings.

My next visit was to the pasta station for a treat that I remembered not from New Orleans but my previous visit to the Winnipeg Convention Centre’s Mardi Gras-Cajun Carbonarra. Smoky bacon is first sautéed with mushrooms, onions and crushed red pepper and then tossed with a parmesan cream sauce, Cajun chicken, spicy sausage and penne pasta.  The result is appropriately spicy and satisfyingly hearty.

I was also pleased to sample the Louisiana Crab Cakes and Crawfish Etoufee but my favourite of the evening was yet to come.  The Shrimp Creole did not contain the baby gulf shrimp that I recalled from Bourbon Street but enormous ones with their tails intact.

They were expertly prepared before my eyes and pulled off the heat just as they changed texture, which ensures a firm and crunchy shrimp to bite into and savour.

There is a nightly Parade and over 30 entertainers including many directly from New Orleans. I have a collection of Mardi Gras beads from our time in New Orleans. How I earned them is a story in itself and a secret that I am not quite ready to tell.

Warm up winter in Winnipeg! See http://www.winnipegmardigras.com/for more details.

Kath’s quote: “New Orleans food is as delicious as the less criminal forms of sin.”-Mark Twain

Love-that is all.

Last night in Winnipeg, we were the coldest city on earth!  A distinction I would happily give up.  And yet this morning the coffee is hot, I do not have to venture out quite yet and I am snuggled up with fuzzy socks on my feet and a blanket across my lap. How do we live here? Well, this is one of my secret coping methods: I have such a vivid imagination that often times, surrounding myself with aromas and flavours from a place that I have traveled to, will take me right back to that time and place.  This really saves money in our travel budget!  I was in Greece many, (many), years ago but the flavours of lemon, feta and oregano are so distinctive, that I can recall the surprising heat of that spring and hear the constant traffic sounds from Omonia Square in the heart of Athens.  I was such a picky eater then, having never traveled to Europe before, that I turned my nose up at moussaka and spanakopita.  Oh, to have the chance to relive those times again.

I buy large “club” packs of ground beef and then repackage them into smaller portions as soon as I get home from grocery shopping.  Although ground beef is already one of the most economical meats around, purchasing it in this manner makes it even more so.  As a result, I can always rely on having chubs of ground beef in our deep freeze.  Beef is so versatile; this recipe combines traditional Greek ingredients to a meatloaf recipe and the results are a hearty and exotic tasting dinner.  Here is a fabulous link about utilizing beef to same time and money.

This recipe is a slow-cooker one as I am trying to increase my repertoire on the off chance, I decide to take a particular job that has been made known to me.  The couple of handling tips are from Sally Vaughan-Johnston’s Best of Bridge Slowcooker Cookbook fame, whom I had the opportunity to work with prior to Christmas.  Plus, on a bone-chilling day like this one, it is lovely to have hearty aromas waft through the house.

She suggests that you take a long piece of aluminum foil, fold it in half lengthwise and then place it in the bottom of the pot with the edges up and over the rim.  This way when cooking is complete, you grasp the foil ends and lift out the meatloaf, draining off any accumulated fat.

Do you happen to have one of these handy little choppers?  Mine is an OXO and comes in so handy as I hate chopping onions.  Once it is out and already needs washing, I just use it to chop everything else up too.  Then you just pull it apart and throw it in the dishwasher-so handy.  I got mine in a goodie bag when I attended Eat, Write, Retreat earlier this spring in Washington DC.  I won the opportunity to attend through Canada Beef.  Coincidence?  I think, not.

Kath’s quote: “Triptolemus, one of the principal figures in Greek religion, is said to be the inventor of the plow and of agriculture, and therefore the real father of what we call civilization.”-M.F.K. Fisher

Love-that is all.

When we traveled to Ireland this past spring, we came to understand the essential importance of the neighbourhood pub.  If you define a pub in Canadian terms, it equates to something far different from what a pub is to an Irishman.  The Grove is the closest facsimile to a real pub in my mind.  For one, it is located on the street which borders ours, albeit significantly east of our locale.  For two, we could walk there, although when it is -47 with the wind chill, we chose not to on this day.  For three, there is familiarity-the owner waving at J1 as he arrived at work on this afternoon.  And then there is the rest of the package: personable staff, a wide selection of cold drawn and bottled beer and simple, yet wonderfully prepared food.

We were celebrating a family birthday.  That is, we have a celebratory meal together when it is a family member’s birthday.  The format does not change very much: the birthday boy/girl gets to choose whether we will slow roast a batch of ribs, plant ourselves on a patio for the afternoon or try a new restaurant together.  In this case, D wanted to ensure that he was sitting in his favourite chair in front of the big screen TV for NFL conference finals, by kick off time, so lunch it was.

When we arrived, there was a note on the door declaring that due to a mechanical issue (our guess was that something froze in the extreme cold), the menu would be limited.  We were undeterred and found all kinds of delicious choices.

Of course fish and chips were ordered and J1 and J2 remarked that the fish was very lightly breaded and that the haddock fillet itself was a hearty portion, more like a fish steak.  J1 would have loved to have had a burger which he declares is the city’s best but was pleased with this alternative.

Daughter #1 loves her Butter Chicken and found this recipe to her liking, that is to say: flavourful but not too firey.

The Frenchman sampled the lamb stew and was delighted.

I had been celebrating D’s birthday with indulgent food since the night before, so I decided to make a healthy choice and had the quinoa salad: sour cherry and pistachio crumble, cucumber, red onion, red pepper, tomato, carrot & mint, dressed in lemon garlic vinaigrette.

D had been dreaming about The Grove’s pan-seared scallops and knew that he had to savour them again.

Our cordial server brought out the German Chocolate cake that we had brought ourselves (D’s favourite cake) with a knife, plates, napkins and forks and we concluded our pub lunch in this way.

Kath’s quote: “Some people have a foolish way of not minding, or pretending not to mind, what they eat. For my part, I mind my belly very studiously, and very carefully; for I look upon it, that he who does not mind his belly will hardly mind anything else.”-Samuel Johnson

Love-that is all.

I have been assigned the task of declaring the most romantic restaurant in Winnipeg in anticipation of Valentine’s Day.  So let me start by sharing with you the most romantic thing that has ever happened to me: 

In celebration of our 25th wedding anniversary, D and I traveled to the Mediterranean.  We started in a village in Sicily and sojourned by train up the west coast of Italy and stayed in Prariano on the Amalfi Coast, Cinque Terre, Nice and then Paris.  D arranged that with every hotel stay, there were bouquets of my favourite flowers waiting for us in our room; we shared bites of perfect food and sips of amazing wines and saw the most breath-taking scenery.  And yet, travel can be stressful as was the case for one leg of our journey.

We had to catch a 6 am bus to Sorrento but were anxious that we would not get our wake up call as it had been the first time on vacation that we had to rely on one, so we had both been awake since 4:17 am.  It was a good thing, because we never did get the call.  In addition, the espresso machine had not been fired up for the day at our hotel, so we were caffeineless.  Our bus was jammed with school-aged kids who created a deafening din so we were relieved to transfer to a train for our next connection in Naples.  Both D and I had been to Naples before but for D it had not been a positive experience and train stations are not necessarily in the best part of town.  The Naples station was huge and confusing.  We were very stressed and this was made worse by a very angry Italian “gentleman” who claimed that we were sitting in his train seats.  After that was resolved the time to Rome passed uneventfully.  But then when we switched trains again to take us to Spezia someone else claimed that we were in their seats.  This man was more handsome and less angry than the first, but it was disconcerting, none the less.  We had an hour wait in Spezia and decided to perch ourselves and our luggage on an outside platform to get from fresh air. We took turns sitting with the luggage and freshening up in the washroom and stretching our legs.  When we boarded for the last train ride of the day, we realised that the piece of luggage that contained all of our souvenir shopping from the trip had been snatched from the platform!  I was devastated, not only because we had spent precious money selecting particular gifts for our family but because both D and I had splurged and purchased Italian linens to wear at an anniversary party that was being thrown for us upon on return.  Once we arrived in Riomaggiore, I had no idea that our apartment would be an almost vertical climb up the side of a mountain.  By this time, we were exhausted and hungry and I for one was in no mood to have my heart stopped by a cardio work out, so we waited for a shuttle.  Twenty minutes later we were being shown around our home for the next few days only to find that there was no AC and because the breeze was blocked by the mountain, absolutely no movement of air.  I had had it!  I was a mess.  I sobbed and threw myself such a pity party, I am embarrassed to admit it, even now.  And then this amazing thing happened.  Doug eye-balled the size of our terrace, went inside and pulled the mattress off the bed, bedding and all.  He dragged it outside and after an amazing dinner in town, we slept under the stars that night.  I not only cooled off sufficiently but heard the most amazing sounds of birds singing in the morning, bells chiming and the village below us, coming alive.  It was so romantic to watch the sun come up over the mountain and see the sparkling sea below us. 

So when the romance bar is being set, mine is very high indeed which makes selecting a place for  Valentine’s Day dinner a difficult task.  Terrace in the Park is located in a glass atrium which has been built onto the side of the historic Pavillion of Assiniboine Park.  D and I had the pleasure of being invited to their opening but have not yet enjoyed dinner. 

The samplings on that preview night were a delight, starting with San Francisco Cioppino,

Albacore Tuna Tacos,

Steamed Pacific Snow Crab Legs,

Flights of Oysters,

Scallop Ceviche,

and what turned out to be be favourite of the evening: Smoked Pike Rillettes.

We were not surprised that the seafood that preview evening was stellar as we have heard only great things about Chef Simon Resch.  He studied at the Pacific Institute of Culinary Arts and then under the tutelage of Chefs Julian Bond and Rob Clark before returning to Winnipeg and the Beaujolais and Amici Restaurants.  Old Montreal lured him away and then an opportunity to work on the French Rivera (we must have travelled through his community on our Mediteranean train ride).  But Winnipeg was able to attract him back with positions at the Inn at the Forks and the Niakwa Golf and Country Club.  He joined WOW! Hospitality to work alongside Chef Mike Dacquisto before his final move to Terrace in the Park.

And so Valentine’s Day awaits and I will celebrate with the love of my life in the best way we know how-in a beautiful place, supping on exquisitely prepared food with perhaps a glass or two of a fine beverage.

Kath’s quote:  “Most seafoods…should be simply threatened with heat and then celebrated with joy.” –Jeff Smith 

 Love-that is all.