Stacked

The physiological effects of anxiety are not a welcome thing. At the moment, I’m awaiting big news, potentially life-changing news and I have knots in my stomach and an ache in my head.

Of course, I’ve been through this before. I know that it’s entirely possible that this news will fall through. I’ve been in this place before, where it’s no longer in my hands to control my fate.

So, you can understand why I might be hitting the refresh button on my web browser. In the meantime, let’s consider some interesting, nice things. Shall we?

Why do we love the Titanic? via New Yorker magazine
I’m completely smitten by these notebooks
A genderless pronoun via The Globe and Mail
The Finnish Baby Box via The Atlantic
Why Trees Matter via New York Times
and finally The Cake that Makes Our Family via Gilt Taste

Montreal le slush, je t’adore

My dad lived in Montreal when he was in his 20s and early 30s. It’s a good place to be young, living close to the bone, people say. I think it’s just a good place to live, to be.

(My mother hates it. I think it’s the driving. I like the fact that the drivers in Montreal know what they’re doing, even if it’s illegal.)

Andrew & I talk a lot about moving cities for a year or two. We said Toronto, Vancouver, somewhere more exotic. But, every time we go to Montreal, we come back and say for a week, or two or three, that we should move to Montreal.

When we moved into our new neighbourhood, we thought we would be closer to good street culture, a more walkable neighbourhood, more diverse retail, a different community than where we were. And it is different. Just…not how we expected. Transit access is ho-hum, worse than it was. It’s at least a ten-minute walk to any neighbourhood with good retail, and the closest neighbourhood was devastated by a fire that took away a good chunk of its street life. The Byward Market is lovely, and it’s close enough, but the problem is that the city stops after the sun goes down. Whereas in Montreal, shops downtown are open until 9 or 10 at night, just about everything in Ottawa shuts down at 6. There’s a lovely little spot in Hintonburg that is booked solid with reservations, and yet nothing much around it is open past 7. Same goes for the Byward Market. It’s rather tragic – people say that Ottawans won’t go out late, but part of the reason for that is that there’s nothing to do. It’s cyclical.

In Montreal, shops close at 6, but the jazz clubs and museums and art galleries are open later. There is so much to do, and so the streets are full of people. By converse, when the mercury hit the high 20s this week, it brought Ottawans out into the streets to enjoy the nice weather, but with naught to do. OpenFile asked its readers whether the lack of people is to blame for the lack of things to do in Ottawa’s urban areas, or if it’s vice versa. It’s neither, I believe. It’s cyclical.

In Toronto (where I was yesterday), there is such a critical mass of people living in a relatively densely populated space that it requires things to do. I suspect that the same is true of Montreal and Vancouver.

But, why not of Ottawa? What is preventing us from that?

Ish, Fuh, and White-Chocolate Blueberry Cake

As maybe I alluded to in my last post (see below), it’s kind of a rough and patchy ride at the moment. When I’m not working, I’m hitting the refresh button on a series of sites that maybe will have a gig that is what I’m looking for in the long term. Except, the problem is, that I still don’t know at all what I’m looking for in the long term. What do we want to be, when we grow up? We are asked at 3, at 5, at 10, and maybe again at 12. Sometimes the answer changes. Sometimes it doesn’t. For me, from the time I was 8 until I was 18, I wanted to be a print journalist. There was a brief stretch where I wanted to be a sports broadcaster. That wasn’t long after the Blue Jays won the World Series. But, in general, I thought that a working life in media was the working life for me.

The trouble is, that I have never been as sure about what I want to do with my 9-5 as I was when I was 18, right after I accepted a scholarship from Carleton’s Journalism program, and right before I left for Germany. I bailed on that opportunity, and I don’t regret it, because I don’t think it was the right decision at the time. But there is something to be said for security and certainty. Whereas, now, I have six years of post-secondary education and all I know is that I want to improve communities and engage people in the process of placemaking. That’s not exactly a career.

On the one hand, this is exciting. It’s an adventure, to have the world in front of you. On the other hand, I’m lacking in both a map and compass. But, I have cake. And cake makes adventures better, right? That’s why we have wedding cakes.

This isn’t a wedding cake. It’s a birthday cake. Or, it was. Then we ate it and now there are photographs, and recipes, and memories. It’s okay though – this birthday cake starts the Season of Cake, in which each the entirety of my husband’s family, plus my husband and myself, have birthdays. There are, between March 29 and June 26, five birthdays, plus Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, and Easter. There will be a lot of cake.

I’m just getting started.

White-Chocolate Blueberry Cake

For the cake
4 cups tablespoons pastry flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon table salt
2 sticks unsalted butter, room temperature
2 cups sugar
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
4 large eggs, room temperature
2 cups buttermilk

Preheat oven to 350°F.
Butter two 9-inch round cake pans and line with circles of parchment paper, then butter parchment.
Sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a medium bowl; set aside.
In a large bowl (or stand mixer), beat together the butter and sugar at medium speed until pale and fluffy, then beat in the vanilla. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well and scraping down the bowl after each addition.

Alternately mix in the buttermilk and the dry ingredients, beginning and ending with the dry ingredients.
Spread batter evenly in cake pan, ensuring that air bubbles are eliminated. Bake until golden, 35 to 40 minutes. Cool in pan for at least 15 minutes before running a knife around the edge of the pan and inverting it.

Allow the cakes to cool completely before icing. Alternatively, they can be wrapped tightly in plastic wrap and thrown in the freezer for up to a week or so.

For the blueberry filling

Take 250 mL of your favourite blueberry jam. (For me, it’s the Blueberry & Lavender one from Michael’s Dolce, a local confectioner.)
If the jam is not a spreadable consistency, if it drizzles off the spoon quite quickly, you’ll want to heat it in a saucepan, over a low heat to thicken it. I heated mine for about 15 minutes, then removed it from the stove and kept it in jar in the fridge until she was ready to go.

For the white-chocolate frosting

2 cups icing sugar
1 cup butter, room temperature
8 ounces white chocolate, melted and cooled
2 tablespoons milk

With a mixer, blend together the icing sugar and butter. Slowly add the white chocolate and mix until combined. Add the milk to thin it out a little, and mix until smooth. Use immediately.

Milk Crumb
adapted from Momofuku Milk Bar

1/2 cup milk powder
1/4 cup flour
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1 tablespoon sugar
1/4 tsp. salt
1/4 cup melted butter

1/2 cup milk powder
3 ounces white chocolate, melted and cooled

Preheat the oven to 250F. Mix together the first five ingredients and add the melted butter, mixing until clusters form. Spread out on a cookie sheet and bake for 15-20 minutes, until just golden.
Allow these to cool completely. Toss with milk powder, coat with the white chocolate, and let set on a sheet pan
or plate covered in wax paper. They will keep for 2 weeks in the fridge.

Putting the cake together

This should be self-explanatory. But, in case it’s not:

Slice the cakes in half. I reserved one of the four halves, and made homemade twinkies with them.
Place a half on your cake plate/workspace and spread 1/2 of the jam on to it, leaving about an inch border.
Repeat with the second cake layer, and the second half of the jam.
Top with the third cake layer and ice the cake beautifully. (You can do it!)
Sprinkle the milk crumb and dried blueberries on top.

Image from Angela Anderson-Cobb

When the economy first collapsed, in 2008-2009, my mother told me that I was lucky. I was still young. I still have time to build a nest egg. The city that I live in, Ottawa, was mostly safe from the fallout. It had curled up under a blanket of a minority government, covered its eyes, and threw a bit of a money at the problem, in the hopes of making it okay. The blanket was thrown off this week, those underneath had their eyes uncovered.

Her Majesty’s government released its first budget as a majority government yesterday. I know people who say that it could have been worse. I know people who say that public servants should be fired, the lot of them, that they’re overpaid and underworked. I think this is demeaning, cruel, and untrue, to say the least. It can always be worse. But, these are the first serious austerity measures that Ottawa has seen in quite some time. The numbers are there, if you’re so inclined.

The point is, that Ottawa this morning is eerily quiet. So quiet, you could hear a penny drop, except that the government has also vowed to get rid of those. There are tumbleweeds rolling across the government campuses and the atmosphere is dim. It’s reminiscent–though not to the same degree–of the rust belt. The government cuts are not so severe that Ottawa will be hanging signs asking the last one to leave to turn off the lights.

It’s a rather depressing air that surrounds the town, though. And I’m not quite sure what to do about it.

Citrus Tofu with Onions and Peppers for a Heatwave

We’ve been in a heatwave this week, which in Ottawa, in March, should mean daytime highs of 10-12 degrees celsius. Instead, today’s high was 27 degrees. Tomorrow it will be 23 and if the rain holds off it will be the fourth day in a row that we’ve eaten on our balcony. Which I’m completely alright with, aside from the part where all of our meals are hot and heavy this week. It’s March. I should be making chilli or roast chicken and then baking things so that I can leave my oven on and make it cozy and warm in my apartment. I shouldn’t be spending lunch out on the balcony, eating a La Bottega sandwich and sipping a wheat beer. But, here I am.

One of my favourite things during hot(ter) weather are meatless meals; when it’s hot, you don’t want something super heavy. Or at least, I don’t. Heck, I would eat veggies and hummus and pita and maybe some cheese everyday if I could, but my husband wouldn’t go for cold dinners all the time and my mother instilled a sense in eating all four food groups, all the time. (I don’t agree with this anymore, but I used to swear by it. All the time. Uber-balance, if you will.) This has that balance, for what it’s worth. Also, even though it’s served hot, it’s still fairly light. And even though you have to turn on the oven to make it, the oven only stays on for 25 minutes and that’s it. So, really this is a pretty lightweight meal for a spring evening or a spring evening that feels like summer.

Citrus Tofu with Onions and Pepper
adapted from Bon Appetit
serves 2 hungry adults, 4 with rice and salad

1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1/3 cup fresh lemon juice
the zest of 1 lemon
2 tablespoons minced garlic
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided
1 tablespoon honey

one 1-pound block medium-firm tofu, cut into 1/2-inch slices
1 medium sweet onion, cut into 1/4-inch rounds
2 red bell peppers, stemmed, seeded, cut into 1/4-inch thick slices

Preheat oven to 450°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with foil. Combine cilantro, lemon juice, lemon zest, garlic, cumin, paprika, 1 tablespoon olive oil, and honey in food processor. Process for 30 seconds. Pour 1/2 cup of marinade into a resealable plastic bag. Add tofu. Seal bag; shake gently to coat. (Set aside the remaining marinade; this becomes your sauce!)
Let marinate at room temperature, turning occasionally, for 10–15 minutes.
Combine onion and peppers in a large bowl. Toss with remaining tablespoon oil. Season with salt and pepper.
Drain tofu. Place in a single layer on one side of prepared sheet. Spread vegetables in a single layer opposite tofu.
Roast, stirring vegetables occasionally, until vegetables are tender and tofu is lightly browned, 20–25 minutes.
Divide among plates. Drizzle with sauce.

The Best Breakfast Things

Instagram makes my food look burnt. I only just got my camera back from friends today, alas.

I’m sure it’s obvious to most people that the best things in life are the things that are both enjoyable and good for you. And yet, so many of us, so often, spend time on things that are enjoyable (but have negative consequences) or healthy or right for you (but you only do because you feel obligated). I completely see the point of breaking down and playing games on your iPhone. I get it. I do it. I’m not beyond that and I hope I never will be. Nor am I quite past the point where I will indulge in not one, or two, but three lemon squares, without thinking. And then have some plantain chips. Restrain? Pfft.

Which is what I love about these muffins. They’re the middle part of the Venn diagram of “Healthy” and “Delicious”. They’re healthy enough that Paula Deen would hate them. Oh, but they’re real food. They’re not made with margarine, or Splenda, or anything that comes from a science lab. Which I suspect is part of why they taste good and make you feel good. They also have a substantial amount of fibre, good for your guts, and filling for breakfasts.

I might have to make a second batch, they’re so good. But that’s okay; they’re also seriously easy to make.

Wheat Bran Muffins
adapted from Super Natural Everyday

2 large eggs
1 cup plain yogurt (2-3.8% M.F. is about right)
1/2 cup barely melted butter
1/4 cup maple syrup
1/2 cup unprocessed wheat bran
1 1/2 cups plain bran cereal, crushed
1 cup whole wheat pastry flour
1/4 cup turbinado sugar
1 teaspoon grated orange zest
1 teaspoon baking sida
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon sea salt

Preheat the oven to 400F and place a rack in the middle of the oven. Line your muffin pan (or mini-loaf pan) with wrappers. This recipe makes 8 mini-loaves or 12 muffins (which is nice, because 1 muffin isn’t quite enough for me, but 2 muffins is too much. Mini loaves = 1 1/2 muffins)

In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, yogurt, melted butter, and maple syrup. Gently mix in the bran and cereal and allow it to sit for five minutes.

Meanwhile, in a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, orange zest, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Sprinkle the dry ingredients into the wet ones and stir until just combined. Fill each of the muffin cups three-quarters of the way full.

Bake for 18 to 22 minutes (18 for muffins, 22 for large muffins or mini-loaves) until the muffins begin to brown and the tops are set. Let cool for 5 minutes in the pan before turning them out on to a wire rack and allowing them to cool completely.

Things I discovered (while away from Twitter)

Instead of checking Twitter and Facebook compulsively on my way to work in the morning, I’ve been reading news sites, blogs, and other media. Disconnecting from social media has allowed me to connect with less demanding, and ultimately more interesting media and content.

Don’t get me wrong, I think social media has its place. I just think that there’s a higher percentage of important content to be found elsewhere. As much fun as videos of frogs attacking their owners may be.

What else did I discover?

Is Hillary inevitable?

The gendering of children.

Pantone tarts. Delicious colour.

Why you don’t need a rooster to make a chicken egg.

My new gig, which involves listening to politicians, has left me wondering if there’s an audience for a political food blog highlighting the 308 federal ridings in Canada.

Finally, as William Morris said, “Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.”

Double Lemon – Ginger Scones

My camera is still at my friends’ house. There are wonderful photos on it. But, I’ve also missed taking photos. Other friends were over this weekend with their darling little girl and I wanted so badly to take pictures of her, being ridiculously cute and all. Alas.

To make up for the lack of good photos, I present to you a recipe for the best damned lemon scones that you will ever wrap your lips around. Yeah, okay, so lemon is my favourite flavour in the world. Maybe I’m biased. But these are the perfect combination of tart and sweet and floral. They also keep really well for a few days.

The recipe is derived from the amazing Joanne Chang’s book, like so many other things I write about. Before I went on my social media hiatus, I was talking over Twitter with a friend of a friend who works at Flour and he thought my take on the scones sounds really tasty. I have to agree. The secret ingredient? Candied lemon peel. By blanching the lemon rind, you take the bitterness out, but it leaves a really awesome, mild floral flavour to the lemon.

Double Lemon-Ginger Scones
makes 8-10

Scones
2 3/4 cups flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
3/4 tsp ground ginger
1/2 cup (70g) sugar
1 tbsp fine lemon zest (from 1 lemon)

3/4 cup + 2 tbsp (or 1 cup – 2 tbsp if that makes more sense) cold unsalted butter
1 cup half and half cream
1 egg
2 tbsp grated fresh ginger
2 tbsp finely chopped candied lemon peel, which equals that of 1 lemon

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Put the first seven ingredients into the bowl of a stand mixer.
Cut butter into 10 pieces, add to flour mixture and, using the paddle attachment, mix together until the mixture is the consistency of thick cornmeal.
In a small bowl, whisk together the cream, egg and ginger. Pour this mixture into the bowl of the stand mixer while it’s running on a low speed. Mix for 20-30 seconds or until the dough comes together.
Pour the dough out onto a well floured surface (the dough is very sticky), sprinkle with flour pat out until it’s about 1/2 inch thick. Fold the dough over and pat out again. Repeat once more. (This will give you flaky layers)
Cut out using a 2-3 inch cookie cutter and place on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Roll the scraps out and repeat until you’ve used all the dough.
Bake for 25-30 minutes at 350F, until golden brown on top.
Let the cool on a baking rack, placed over top of a Silipat or baking sheet.
Once cool, glaze the scones with lemon glaze.

Lemon Glaze
1/2-3/4 cup powdered sugar (More sugar for a thicker consistency)
The juice of 2 lemons

While the scones are cooling, whisk the lemon juice into the powdered sugar until combined. Once cool, brush or drizzle the glaze over top.

Store in an airtight container for up to 3 days.

Disconnecting-ish

I’m unplugging from social media for a week. It will do me a great deal of good to force myself not to refresh my Twitter feed, or check Facebook pages constantly. Because, yes, it’s at the point where I need to force myself to take a hiatus from these things. They’re delightful tools, but they’re relentless.

A friend noted that it’s not really disconnecting if I’m still reachable by text, by email, by blog, by phone. What I’m doing, you could argue, is prioritizing the rest of the world, the things that happen outside of Twitter and Facebook and Pinterest. It’s kind of nice, actually, and also kind of scary to realize the level of obsession with which I check social media.

For example, late last night, I wasn’t able to sleep. I would have asked Twitter to commiserate with me, but instead I got into a good book, and read until my woes were carried away on horseback.

I don’t especially care to know how much time I will get back this week by avoiding the most time-consuming of social media. But, I do anticipate that it will be a lot. The only question is how much things will change when I come back.

Becoming what we need to be.

new fluevogs

“We cannot become what we need to be by remaining what we are.” – Max de Pree

Andrew & I went off to Montreal this past weekend to indulge. It was in many respects, awesome. We ate way too much. I drank a lot of coffee. I bought a pair of Fluevogs. It was exactly what a weekend in Montreal should be. (There will be photos, just as soon as I retrieve my camera from a friend’s house…which won’t be until next week because they’re now in Toronto.)

There was also a lot of talking. Usually when Andrew and I take a trip together, there’s less talking, more music listening and singing along. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just what comes of living together and spending a lot of our time in the same space. Of course, I’ve been busy as ever with a new gig and with training for the half-marathon. So, we haven’t talked a lot.

We got to talking about two of my current projects: This blog and a little something that I’m coordinating for Heritage Ottawa. There is a light at the end of the tunnel for the Heritage Ottawa project–it launches in mid-April. (Yeah, that’s only six weeks away, folks!) There isn’t a light at the end of the tunnel for this here blog.

When I started this blog, it wasn’t with the intent of blogging about food. Go and look at the first posts, if you can find them. They’re just me, talking to the internet, some two years ago. It somehow became about sharing good food over the course of the last 18 months. And there’s nothing wrong with that. The trouble is that I feel as though I have to share all the food. There was a recent article in the New York Times about mindful eating. Kelly commented on it, linking it back to blogging by saying “Meals are to be made because you want them – not because it’s been thismany days since you posted a recipe with thiskind of ingredient.” I couldn’t agree more. In the past six weeks, I’ve slowly become resentful of the planning, the editing, the writing. I’m doing more writing and editing than ever before, and I’m enjoying it. Just not about food. My photography has improved drastically over the past twelve months. But I don’t remember the last time that I took a picture of something that wasn’t food. I don’t remember the last weekend that I didn’t feel that it was a requirement for me to make, photograph, and write about food.

It feels a bit like it did right before I opted to leave my winter ultimate team this year: I still enjoy ultimate. I will play in the summer, but my time with playing ultimate three seasons of the year is done. It’s a hobby for which my interest has waned, and if I’m to maintain any interest at all, I need to step back.

I’ll still be around these parts. I’ll still be writing posts, taking photos, and talking at ‘ya. You’re not getting rid of me quite so easily. It’s just that I won’t always be here with food. I’m more than a girl with an apron and a spatula. Or is it a turner?