Sometime even a foodie needs a weekend off.  By this I mean that I have been surrounded by amazing dishes to request the recipes for and photograph, but I have not. (D likes to publicly complain that he hasn’t enjoyed a hot taste of food since I started this blogging thing).

We arrived Friday evening at the beach house to a bulging platter of grilled chicken Thai salad served on the deck.  We did not even unpack the car-just tucked into the meal, wine and an oportunity to get caught up on family news of who was going to be out at our three cottages, who was travelling where this weekend and anecdotes from our youngest family member who had just had a marvellous 2 week vacation.  “Auntie-ask me what grade I going into?” (He’s 2).  “What grade are you going into this fall Colton?”  His answer: “grade Home and Miss Mommy’s gonna be my teacha!”

Daughter #2 and her Frenchman drove Grandma out and got to join us for 24 hours before they headed to his home town for the next eight days.  Sister #2 made them eggs benedict as a send off.  Her poached eggs are perfectly cooked, the English muffins toasted so that they are not too doughy and she tops them off with with an extra generous ladle of bernaise sauce. 

Almost immediately cleaning up from brunch, D got supper going.  He fired up the barbie and I chopped up the veggies to add to the roaster for ribs.  He had marinated them in apple cider.  He covered the roaster and then closed the barbie lid and left them there for the entire after noon.  When we walked back and forth on the road that links our cottages, we caught the aroma and knew that supper would be a treat.  He drained and cooled them and then put them back on the grill to brush with barbeque sauce and more splashes of apple cider.  Soon after supper, he was at the stove again making his Mom’s hot fudge sauce recipe which is a much requested cottage dessert.   

This morning there is the annual pancake breakfast at the sports field as it is homecoming weekend at Lester Beach.  We are opting instead for salami denvers when D gets home from tennis with the guys from Grand Beach and our son and wife arrive from the city.  He has just been to the airport to drop off his sister and pick up his wife.  She has been away on a mission trip to the Domincan Republic.  Sister #3 is vacationing in Bejing.  Sister #2 is grouting a mirror that she has decorated with beach glass for their not yet built cottage that will provide the fourth property of our vacation compound. 

There are beach towels drying on the railing, newspapers and open novels lying around, a big white lab sleeping in thse sun, bouguets of day lilies attracting bees and a cool breeze in the surrounding birch and pine-life is good.  Is very good indeed.

Kath’s quote: “A daydream is a meal at which images are eaten. Some of us are gourmets, some gourmands, and a good many take their images precooked out of a can and swallow them down whole, absent-mindedly and with little relish.”-W. H. Auden

Our recent sojourn “down under” continues at Billabong Bar and Bistro on Osborne.  The third of three entrees that we sampled was the baramundi that was also an ingredient in the spring rolls.  The firm, yet tender white fish that we liken to Manitoba Pickerel was combined with a sticky rice and wrapped in a banana leaf.  I’ve enjoyed meals cooked in this manner on other occasions in Mexico but never in Winnipeg.

The humidity in the leaf ensures that the fish is thoroughly cooked without drying out.  I am guessing that the sticky rice also helped with the moisture as the rice was infused with shitake mushrooms and a lime and coconut broth.  This accomaniment turned out to be our favourite of the three.

We tried to forgo dessert but were unsuccessful.  After another rest, we picked up forks again and shared tastes of their lovely fruit pavlova and Sticky Pumpkin/Date Pudding. 

The cloud of baked meringue was adorned with freshly whipped cream and a trio of fruit.  It was perfectly light and refreshing and would be a perfect complement to an ordinary sized meal.

We had more difficulty leaving the pudding alone.  The moist and dense pumpkin and date combination was savoury enough but with a buttery, rum, cinnamon and brown sugar sauce, we were absolutely smitten by tastes.

Kath’s quote: “The proof of the pudding is in the eating.”-Miguel de Cervantes

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