I get all fired up before I go to a restaurant that I know that I am going to enjoy and be excited to share with my readers.  Because I am also prone to distraction, fascinating lunch conversation can often throw me off of my good intentions.  Such was the case yesterday when I was invited for lunch to Pizzeria Gusto on Academy Road.

For one, my guest had presents for me-lots of them.  For two,  we had not enjoyed lunch together for a long time and had a lot of catching up to do.  For three, she had brought two photo albums of a recent trip to Tanzania and I am particularly drawn to Africa adventures right now.

So what I’m saying is I don’t know that name of what I ordered and can’t recall all the savoury ingredients.  I was hoping that I could do an on line search of the menu to fill in the gaps but was unsuccessful.

I do know that they are in the midst of revising and reprinting their menu and that one of the pizzas will be featured on their upcoming edition.  The delightful server described it as the epitome of a sweet and salty combination.  There was a fruity preserve spread on the crust, a salty cured meat on top and then a stack of arugula and a squeeze of lemon was put on top when it came out of the wood burning oven.

The second pizza had opposite and yet complementary ingredients.  It was topped with roasted potato and pecorino cheese and a soft /creamy cheese as well.   The pizza reminded me of a Ligurian dish I had enjoyed in Cinque Terre Italy-potatoes tossed with linguine and topped with pesto.

I also left the house without my camera’s memory card and had intended to take a photo of the chef’s hand-throwing the dough by the open hearth.  I’m a very bad blogger……

Kath’s quote:  “What keeps me motivated is not the food itself but all the bonds and memories the food represents.”-Michael Chiarello

My first mojito was in Cuba in the early 80’s.  Our arrival was delayed by winter weather, we were kinda freaked out by the level of security at the airport,  the hotel transfer over a pot-holed highway was gruelling and our accommodations were less than five star.  We were too late for our welcome cocktail, so we chased the geckos off of our walls and crawled into bed.

The next morning I saw my first first glimpse of the Caribbean Sea! Ever since that sight,  I physically crave to be next to turquesa water and find ways to duplicate the effect in my everyday life on the prairies -sleeping under a turquoise duvet cover, wearing something turquoise every single day and decorating our home with this sparkling colour.

I digress………  Our welcome cocktail of a Mojito was served at 10 in the morning.

I have lost touch with my friend Cherrie who gave me this recipe.  Her parents are from Chile and she is engaged to a Cuban Gymnast who has lived in Winnipeg since the Pan Am Games were held in 1997.   These are individually made like the bartenders at Hotel Tortuga that once stood on Varadero Beach.

1 tsp sugar

1 lime

handful fresh mint leaves

2 oz Havana Club blanco (or any white rum)

sparkling water

Place the mint leaves and sugar in a tall glass, crush the sugar and mint with the back of a spoon for 30 seconds or until you can smell the mint.  Cut the lime in half and squeeze the juice from both halves into the glass, then drop the lime into the glass.  Pour in the rum and stir.  Add plenty of ice, then top the mixture with mineral water or club soda.  Garnish with a sprig of mint and Salude!

Kath’s quote: “As for the garden of mint, the very smell of it alone recovers and refreshes our spirits, as the taste stirs up our appetite for meat,”
Pliny

Her first taste of chicken feet

Daughter #2 does not like change.  Seems an extraordinary notion when she has just spent last semester travelling in South Africa.  She stayed in a variety of people’s homes, caves and even a jail.  And yet when I try a new chicken enchilada recipe,  she reminds me that she does not like change.

The version that she is attached to is one from my trusty old Campbell’s Soup recipe book.  I am trying to eliminate as many processed foods in our diet as possible and was looking for a more authentic alternative.

For this recipe, sliced chicken breasts (or leftover chicken) are sauteed and then tossed in a 1/2 c of  enchilada sauce (purchased from El Izalco Market on Sargent Ave.).  This mixture is then rolled up in a tortilla-I used spinach ones.

A layer of the sauce was spooned into the bottom of a baking dish and the rolled tortillas were placed on top.  The rest of the sauce was spread on top and baked in a 375 degree oven for 30 minutes.  1/2 c of shredded mozzarella went on top before it was baked for another 15 minutes.

Daughter #2 declared they were okay but not as good as the Campbell Soup version.

Kath’s quote:  “Even while I protest the assembly-line production of our food, our songs, our language, and eventually our souls, I know that it was a rare home that baked good bread in the old days…. It is the nature of a man as he grows older, a small bridge in time, to protest against change, particularly change for the better. But it is true that we have exchanged corpulence for starvation, and either one will kill us. The lines of change are down. We, or at least I, can have no conception of human life and human thought in a hundred years or fifty years. Perhaps my greatest wisdom is the knowledge that I do not know. “-John Steinbeck

I fell in love with the Caribbean almost 35 years ago with my first trip to Varedero Cuba.  Now those were the days before all the European hotel chains started building along the most amazing beach I have yet encountered.

Hotels in the late 70’s were assemblies of old cottages desserted in the 50’s and refurbished, but ever so simply.  There would be a single bed and a night table and a chest of drawers and a rod with hangers.  But I didn’t care, it was an inexpensive escape and I literally spent every moment at the beach-taking my coffee down after breakfast, reading, walking and even swimming in those days.  I  would return to my cottage only in time for a quick shower before supper.  Cuban fare consisted mainly of chicken, rice and beans.  I do recall the lagostina that we paid extra for one night.  It had been split and grilled on an open fire and then just before it was served, a sizzling chile sauce was poured over it so that it came popping and sizzling to the table.  

Isla Mujeres has replaced those rustic stays on the Caribbean.  There are a couple of good Cuban restaurants on Isla -this one on Hidalgo and another sometimes called Vivian’s but more aptly Qubano.  I have yet to sample the latter as it closes but once a week and sure enought that was my day to give it a try.  But Sister #3 loves it and that’s good enough for me.

The plates at Viva Cuba Libra include the staple of plaintain as pictured here and a variety of other traditional acommpaniments.

This story was sent by a reader and friend when she read my Sangria post.  Another illustration of how sustanence is meant to be shared, celebrated and unifies us all.

“Sangria, Spain, and My Father

I just had to share with you a terrific memory I have about Sangria, Spain, and my father.  When we lived in Germany, it was a fantastic opportunity to do a ridiculous amount of traveling.  One of our favorite and most memorable trips was a family vacation to Spain.

We spent 6 weeks in Spain with family and Trailer in tow.  This was the 70’s and back then everyone traveled with camper/trailer and set up home in Trailer parks.  It was a great opportunity to meet people from all over the world.  People would sight-see during the day, and gather at the campsite at night, to share their wonderful adventures.  So in Madrid my father learnt how to make Sangria.  It was a very traditional recipe with tons of red wine and just as much fruit.  My father wanted to really encourage people to gather (our place became the camper of destination), so every morning for about 4 days my father would make a fresh batch of Sangria in a large aluminum tub.  He would set it aside, and we would go on our way exploring, anxious to see what treasures we would see. Around 4:00 pm we would return back to the Camp site in preparation for the Gathering.  The tub of Sangria (which had been prepping all day) would appear, as would many other campers, bringing treats and specialties to share, often representative of their own culture.

One thing I fondly recall about the Gathering was the diversity of the people we met.  There were seasoned travelers, with many worldly tales and sage wisdom, and there were also young adventures, with a contagious sense of wonderment.  The language barriers didn’t seem to be an issue. People wanted to communicate with each other.  So at any one time you could hear broken English, fluent Italian, or Spanish, with a little dash of French, and German to complete the mix so much fun.

This explosion of community and eclectic sense of unity all happened because of a traditional recipe of Sangria, Spain, my father, and an aluminum tub.”

Kath’s quote: ““Sharing food with another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged in lightly.”-MFK Fisher