My birthday cakes are usually multi-recipe, all day baking extravaganzas. It’s my birthday present to myself. I get exactly what I want and I get to spend time alone, baking in my kitchen, my happy placeThis year’s cake was inspired by a trip to Charleston South Carolina we took with our friends The Grizzlies. One of the highlights of our weekend was a cooking class with Chef Vinson Petrillo at The Zero George Hotel, a charming 16 room boutique hotel. Chef Vinson is a recent transplant to the Charleston area. Originally from New Jersey, he honed his craft in New York. When I asked him what brought him to Charleston, he replied simply, “My wife wanted kids.” They are now the proud and very busy parents of two little ones, aged 1 and 2. As I observed Chef Vincent during our 3-hour class it became obvious to me that he must be an excellent dad. He handled all our questions and comments with great patience and equanimity!
For the first course, he cooked butternut squash by the sous vide technique. He followed that up by sauteeing it in brown butter and finally topped it with torched marshmallow. Sort of a glorified sweet potato casserole but so much better.
For the main course, he prepared sauteed snapper. Watching him cook and plate the food was just a joy. His passion for and knowledge of the ingredients were obvious.
The dessert course was a Chocolate Cremeux, essentially a chocolate pudding, topped with big shards of honeycomb. My iPhone photo does not do it justice.If you’ve ever had a Crunchie chocolate bar or sponge toffee, you know what Honeycomb is. Essentially, you make caramel and add baking soda at the end to produce a bubbly toffee confection. This honeycomb topping was the inspiration for my birthday cake.Before he began cooking, Chef Vinson emphasized the importance of “mise en place”. Read through the recipe, measure and chop all your ingredients and set out all pans and tools you need before you start cooking. Nowhere is this more important than in the preparation of honeycomb.
You will need a candy thermometer and a baking sheet lined with parchment paper or a silpat sheet. The process goes quickly, so don’t walk away from the stove. Chef Patrillo left his honeycomb unadorned, but I dipped the corners of mine in bittersweet chocolate and sprinkled them with a bit of flaky sea salt because that’s the way we roll around here!
For the cake, I turned to Brian Hart Hoffman’s book “Bake From Scratch.” I thought his classic golden cake with buttermilk would be a perfect base for honeycomb.I filled and covered the cake with a salted caramel buttercream.With a cup of tea or a glass of milk, this indulgent cake is the perfect way to celebrate a birthday.
A few years ago, on a trip to Umbria, I started playing a little travel game in my mind. Each day I kept track of all the things I ate. At the end of the night, I decided which bite reigned supreme. I had the opportunity to play last month when I visited Israel to attend my nephew’s induction ceremony into the Israeli army.This was my 13th trip to Israel. Each time I visit, I marvel at how much there is to do and see in this tiny country. If you have never been, or it’s been a while since you last visited, you will be amazed by how modern and sophisticated the culinary scene has become. It’s not all hummus and falafel. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.To understand how the new Israeli cuisine evolved, you need to take a look in the rear-view mirror to examine the roots of the people of this nation. One of the most multi-ethnic countries in the world, Chef Rozanne Gold said that “I can’t think of another group of people with a spoon in so many pots.” Immigrants from Eastern Europe, Germany, France, England, Yemen, Ethiopia, and Syria, to name a few, have all influenced Israeli cuisine. Add to that the proclivity of Israeli youth to travel the world once their mandatory military service is over, bringing back with them ingredient and techniques of a multitude of cuisines, and the result is a new Israeli cuisine that is boldly flavourful, unabashedly joyous and wildly innovative.
The best bite of our third day was at OCD, in Tel Aviv. This restaurant is the brainchild of Chef Raz Rahav. At only 25 years old, he is creating some of the most exciting food in Tel Aviv in a stunning setting.I don’t think that industrial-barn falls under any design style I have ever heard of but it describes the interior perfectly.As the name suggests, Chef Rahav is obsessed with precision and complex artistic plating. But flavour does not take a back seat.There are 2 seatings every night, each accommodating 18 guests around a u-shaped bar with an open kitchen in the center. Watching the chefs plate each course, you get the sense that this is more theatre than restaurant. There is no written menu. As each course is set before you, the chef gives a verbal explanation, either in English or Hebrew.
The day before our dinner, the restaurant emailed us to find out if we had any dietary restrictions. They will tailor the meal for you if there are certain things you do not eat, but, they ask you to come with an open mind. On their website they promise that there are no insects on the menu!
Often restaurants offering tasting menus can be a little formal and stuffy. Not OCD! You know that any meal that begins with a donut is going to be a fun night. Just a heads up here, we shot with my daughter’s iPhone and the lighting was not the greatest for food photography. Luckily Elliott S over at trip advisor had many of the same courses and got way better shots than we did. I have tagged his photos appropriately. Thanks Elliott! I also used some of Chef Rahav’s photos from his instagram account @razi_barvazi
We were greeted with a Sufganiya (hebrew for donut). A tiny little bite, about the size of a Timbit, filled with smoked labneh, sherry vinegar, and a rosemary and olive tapenade. A little flavour bomb. Watching them plate the dishes was almost as much fun as eating the delicious results.The first course was a Red Snapper Tartare. It was served with a Whipped Tomato Bavarois, Seaweed and a Poppy Seed Parker House Roll. What surprised us was that the tomato component was white—because it was made only from the water in which the tomato was simmered. The tartare was fresh and delicate, but it was the Parker House Roll that stole my heart. Chef Rahav respects textural contrasts. The crunch of the wafer thin fried seaweed garnish and those poppy seeds made me very happy.The second course was a Trout Sashimi with Smoked Cucumbers, Melon, Sorrel Flowers and Nigella Seeds Crackers.The tartare was followed up with an amuse bouche of Fried Mochi with Shallot Cream, Pickled Shallots and Cured Sardines. Our server suggested we eat it in one bite. We obliged and were rewarded with a flavour explosion in the mouth.Third course was Beef Tartare with Smoked Ratte Potato and Red Sorrel.
Our fourth course was Steamed European Seabass with Oats, Cashew and Pumpkin-Curry Crab Bisque. That crispy thing you see on top is an oat tuile! Chef Rahav is a master at contrasting textures. The fifth course was a love letter to the humble parsnip. The parsnips were roasted to coax out their natural sweetness. Salted pecans provided the crunch and a bone marrow maple jus added the perfect sweet-savory balance. Course number six was Duck Breast with Turnips, Brandy and Bone Marrow Crumble.The careful attention to detail extended even to the bathrooms where the hand towels are lined up like little soldiers.When dinner begins with a donut and ends with three desserts, it’s a good night in my world.
Course seven was the best bite of the day! Aerated Honey Parfait, (dusted with carrot powder) Candied Walnuts, Goat Cheese and Raisins. The texture of the aerated parfait was like chiffon. It just dissolved in my mouth. It reminded us of carrot cake, but a very sophisticated one!The honey parfait was followed up with the most unusual palate cleanser I have ever eaten. It was a G&T Granita with Sour Cream, Pears, Parsnips and Pine Nuts. Not being a gin lover, it was the only dish I did not finish.The second dessert was called, Buckwheat Textures, which featured pickled cherries and salted caramel. Enough said!Our final course of the night was a Sweet Pea Ice Cream Bar. A perfect end to a very special evening.
A few days ago I posted about the first part of our trip to Newfoundland. The saga continues. We checked out of our St. John’s hotel at the ungodly hour of 5:00 am. When Siobhan, the sweet front desk clerk, heard we were headed to Fogo Island, she squealed. That’s home for her. Her parents are still living there, in the village of Tilting. We jokingly said we’d say hi for her.
We hopped onto the Trans Canada Highway (TCH) at Mile Zero. The world’s longest national highway, the TCH stretches across Canada from St. John’s Newfoundland on the East Coast, to Victoria B.C. on the West Coast, a whopping 7,821 km (4,860 miles) long. Mrs. Grizzly and I napped in the back seat while Mr. Grizzly expertly navigated my husband through a dense early morning fog. We were startled awake by this sound
followed quickly by this
as Mr Grizzly ripped into the bag of All-Dressed Potato Chips at 7:45 am. It was going to be a fun ride.
We arrived in Farewell Newfoundland about 11:00 am and patiently waited to take the ferry across to Fogo Island. As we were buying our tickets, they asked if anyone in our group qualified for the senior’s discount – age 60 here. My husband, who reached this magic age the day before, was thrilled to receive his first senior benefit!
I had done a little reading before coming to Fogo Island, but nothing really prepared me for my experience here. Although I had seen a few photos online, driving up the winding gravel lane, rounding the corner and finally seeing The Fogo Island Inn come into view was surreal.This contemporary building, all angles and lines, was such a stark contrast to the raw rocky coastal setting. One end of the building is balanced on what on what looks like stilts, rising almost three storeys up into the air, supporting the inn’s dining room. I later learned that these stilts were modelled after pilotis, the wooden stilts that support the traditional stages set up by fishermen to lay out the salted and drying cod.
Fogo Island Inn is the brainchild of Zita Cobb. Ms. Cobb, one of seven children, was born and raised on Fogo in a home with no electricity or running water. Those amenities didn’t arrive on the island until 1972. She left Fogo at age 16 to study business at Carleton University in Ottawa. Within 20 years, she made a name and quite a fortune for herself in the high-tech industry (fibre optics at JDS Uniphase). In 2001 she exercised her stock options and cashed out with close to $70 million dollars. She took off to sail around the world, but the pull of Fogo Island was very strong and brought her back there in 2005.
Cod fishing has been critical to the economy of Newfoundland for centuries. However, due to greed and overfishing, stocks of cod became depleted and in 1993 the Federal Government declared a moratorium on cod fishing. This caused a collapse of the fishing industry in the province and Fogo Island was especially hit hard.
Zita returned with the goal of giving back to her declining community. Initially she set up scholarships for the youth of Fogo Island, but during a town hall meeting one resident approached her and said that while she appreciated everything Zita was trying to do, scholarships would just encourage people leave rather than building a better place for them to stay. As Oprah would say, Zita had an “aha” moment.
Rethinking her strategy, together with her brother Anthony, Zita established the Shorefast Foundation with the mandate of revitalizing the island by preserving local culture and making it a geotourism destination. Zita calls this “entrepreneurial philanthropy”.
The foundation’s main initiative was the building of Fogo Island Inn, which opened for business in 2013. Inn employees receive 15% of gross revenues in addition to their salary. Any profits from the Inn are reinvested by the Foundation, via micro-finance loans to local small businesses.
Fogo Island Inn is truly a love letter to the island. The Foundation hired award winning Norway architect Todd Saunders to design and oversee the building of the inn. Originally from Gander Newfoundland, Todd had an innate understanding of Zita’s vision and worked tirelessly to bring it to fruition.Local love continues on the inside as well. Island carpenters and artisans used native spruce, birch and fir trees to craft all the furnishings for the inn. The beautiful quilts on all the beds were handcrafted by the women on the island. Even the light fixtures in the dining room, designed to suggest white fishing nets, were crafted by local artists.While there’s no denying the beauty of Fogo Island and the Inn, for me it was the people that made the place extraordinary. Fogo Island Inn has created a “community host” program with the intention of getting guests to spend some one-on-one time with locals. On our first afternoon, we were introduced to Fergus, who took us hiking. Formerly employed by the Canadian Ministry of Fisheries and Oceans, hearing his perspective on the cod industry was enlightening. We were schooled on the local topography (mostly granite), native livestock, and learned a little about the history of the the local colourful “saltbox” houses. The trail we hiked ended in the village of Tilting. Fergus led us to “Da Shed” for a drink. Strangely, for a population that has such strong Irish roots, there are no pubs in Tilting. The local custom is to invite friends and neighbours (and clearly complete strangers as well), into your shed (which houses mostly fishing gear and tools) for a drink and chat. Because of a lack of liquor licence you don’t buy your drink, but rather, “make a contribution.”
We visited Phil and Maureen Foley’s shed. Reminiscent of my first student apartment, the shed was brimming with overstuffed couches and chairs that had seen better days. The walls were plastered with posters. We started chatting with Phil and discovered that he is the dad of the hotel clerk we met that morning in St. John’s! Small world. We were introduced to Phil’s brother and sister-in-law (Gerry and Darlene) as well as several other locals. After about 15 minutes of small talk Phil asked us if we had a song to share. WHAT??? Apparently shed culture involves singsongs as well. Gerry whipped out his guitar and started in on a beautiful haunting Irish melody. Phil, and then his wife Maureen also entertained us with some traditional Celtic tunes.
My initial instinct was to whip out my camera and record the performances. But an inner voice told me to sit still, be present in the moment and savour it. Somehow we have started to believe that every moment of our lives needs to be documented, and in doing so, we miss the being part of the moment.
I will admit to coming home and Googling Maureen, to see if anyone else had recorded her, so I could share it with you guys, and sure enough, there she was. Click here to check her out.
Chef Murray MacDonald is at the helm in the Fogo Island kitchen. A fellow native Newfoundlander, he left the island at age 18 to attend culinary school in P.E.I. He then honed his skills, travelling and cooking in Bermuda, the Cayman Islands, New Zealand, China, and Mexico. Just like Zita, he travelled around the world, only to find his way back home. And, just like Zita, he believes in honouring and preserving the traditions of the past.
At heart Chef Murray is a locavore with a strong survivalist spirit. “We are doing what our ancestors did a hundred years ago, using our ingenuity to forage, gather and cook. Back then they worked with what they had to survive…Our menu is focused on wild things from the North Atlantic and local seasonal produce.” He talks about the importance of having one foot in the past while looking to the future, in order to stay relevant. His kitchen motto is “Find new ways with old things.”
Foraging for ingredients is one of his favourite pastimes. While we were there we had a chance to taste pasta created with sea urchin, found on the rocks by the shore, just beyond the kitchen door. And, as a side note, can I just say how happy it made me to discover that his guilty pleasure food is bologna!He gathers springy caribou moss by the shore and candies it to serve with yogurt and berries!Everything in the kitchen is made from scratch and the inn’s very talented pastry chef, Kara Lackie, has an incredibly light touch with biscuits and scones. They almost floated off the plate.Fogo Island also happens to be one big berry patch. We discovered this as we were hiking and I kept stepping all over these red berries and squishing them. I later learned that they are called “partrige berries” and the island is literally covered in them. They found their way into scones as well as my morning fruit bowl.It’s possible that some cod flavoured kook-aid was slipped into my morning latte, because the next thing I knew, I was agreeing to go on a Cod Fishing expedition. I typically avoid all forms of watercraft, due to a proclivity toward motion sickness.
The unflappable housekeeping supervisor, Rosemarie, outfitted us in bright orange rain slickers, mittens and hats. As we were leaving, she slipped a bottle of Non-Drowsy Gravol into my pocket. Nine of us set out on the M/V Ketanja with Captain Emberley for a three hour tour. We’re all smiles as we board the boat. Once we moved out into deeper waters Captain Emberley cut the motor and gave us all a chance to try our hand at cod jigging. Jigging basically involves the use of lures attached to a line which is “jigged” or moved up and down in a series of short movements. The jigging motion attracts the fish, which are hooked as they move close to the lure. The line is then hauled onboard and the fish removed. I passed on my turn to try my hand at jigging. Non drowsy Gravol did not work too well for me Luckily everyone caught their fish quite quickly and we were soon moving again towards our next destination, Little Fogo Island. Once a vibrant fishing village, the only full-time residents on this tiny archipelago are puffins and razorbills. The steep cliffs on the island meant that the fish stages (platforms for drying salted cod) had to be be built on posts. You can still see several of them dotted around the shore of the island.Little Fogo Island is home to summer cottages now. We had a chance to visit Captain Emberley’s grandfather’s cottage, and check on the progress of the new cottage he is building for his family. There is a charming church on the island, and once each summer a priest comes out to hold mass to honour all of Fogo island’s departed residents. We arrived back at Fogo Island Inn, a little nauseous, but happy to have checked cod fishing off my life’s “To Do” list.
On our last night at the Inn, we began chatting with our young waitress. When we asked her what changes she has noticed since the opening of the Inn, her answer surprised us. She said that of course the Island has begun to prosper financially, but what she noticed even more was a change within her.
No different than most kids living in a small town, she said she wanted nothing more than to leave the Island when she became an adult. She headed off to Halifax when she turned 18 but became quite homesick. She moved a little closer, to St. John’s and then when the Inn opened in 2013 she came home. All of the sudden she began to see Fogo Island through the eyes of all the guests coming to visit. They gushed about the raw beauty and unspoiled terrain. She had taken it for granted all her life, and seeing it through a different lens made her really appreciate what she had all along. I guess there’s no place like home after all!
I am very blessed to have just returned from an amazing trip to Africa with a group of 18 friends. (Several of the photos in this post were taken by my very talented friends) We spent a few days in Capetown and then visited the wine region of Franschhoek. Then it was time for Safari! We visited 2 different game reserves. The first was in Botswana, in the Okavango Delta region. The second was in the Sabi Sands region of South Africa. Safari life has a rhythm all its own, unlike any other type of holiday.
Many African animals are most active during the crepuscular hours (from the Latin meaning Twilight, it refers to dusk and dawn). What this means is that your day begins with a 5:00 am wakeup call! We quickly jumped into our clothes and downed a cup of coffee before setting off on our first game drive of the day.
Our Land Rover was captained by Ranger Ross and his able sidekick, Tracker Johnson. The tracker sits high up in the jeep and is constantly scanning the landscape looking for animals. He also scans the ground, looking for footprints and other clues in the sand. It blew my mind that he could accurately identify the species as well as determine exactly how long ago the animal was there by identifying the freshness of the animal droppings. The animal’s footprint also tells you which direction he was headed in.The goal of most neophyte Safari goers is to check the “Big 5” (elephant, lion, rhino, cape buffalo and leopard) off their must-see list. The term “Big 5” originally referred to the difficulty in hunting and bagging these large animals, mostly due to their ferocity when cornered and shot at. More recently it has become a marketing term used by safari tour operators.
The rhythm of the Land Rover, bouncing up and down on the uneven terrain is a bit hypnotic and I must admit, during the early morning hours, I nodded off a few times. But I was jolted awake on our second morning when we almost ran over a herd of elephants crossing the road! There were over 40 elephants, all lined up, crossing the road. They stopped in the middle of the road and started putting on a show for us. They were really quite playful and it almost seemed as if they were performing for us.After about 20 minutes the alpha female shook her ears and trumpeted quite loudly, and the whole herd gently ambled off.
Elephants form deep family bonds and live in tight matriarchal family groups. When a calf is born it is raised and protected by the whole matriarchal herd. Each herd is made up of mothers, daughters, sisters and aunts. They are guided by the oldest and largest female of the herd. The babies are mothered by all the females of the herd.
Some masterful tracking by Johnson revealed two female lions, up on a ledge. Ross explained that lions are very social animals and travel in a group known as a pride. These lionesses were part of a pride of 17 lions, known around here as the “Mhangene” tribe. We soon spotted one of the male members of this tribe. And not too far away, we discovered the rest of the pride, lazing around. After we left the lions, we came upon a “crash” of white rhinos, just leaving the watering hole. Ross explained to us the sad plight of rhinos in South Africa. Rhinos are being poached for their horns. The demand for rhino horn stems from the age-old myth that they can be used to cure cancer. One horn goes for over $25,000 on the black market. We checked # 4 , The Cape Buffalo, off our list just before 9:00 am. Johnson spotted a large herd of them off in the distance and our Land Rover became the Safari Ferrari as we flew up to catch up with them. They kind of reminded me of my Marlo Thomas Barbie doll I had when I was a little girl!The final member of the Big 5, the leopard, is one of the most elusive animals to spot. One of the other Rangers from our group radioed Ross to let him know where the leopard had just been spotted. (bad pun, I know!!). We quickly drove to the location just in time to see the leopard. She was just chilling in the lower branch of the Ebony tree, her happy place. She climbed down, proceeded to walk towards our jeep and then crawled under the vehicle and came out the other side. We all stopped breathing for a minute! Then she just ambled off, with a quick glance back at us, as if to say, “You guys coming, or what?” Ross explained that this female (her name was “Hlaba’ Nkunzi) had recently given birth and she was probably on her way to check on her cubs. Once female leopards give birth, they must protect their babies by hiding them away to provide safe shelter from predators for the first several months of their young lives. This female had actually hidden her cubs underneath the Lodge’s General Manager’s house.
Later that day, mom was spotted wandering through our camp, on her way to visit her babies. Two of my friends got pictures of her outside their rooms. It was only later in the day that we realized what an incredible morning drive we had just experienced. We thought that spotting all those animals in one short drive was the norm. Our Ranger explained that many Safari goers never get to see the Rhino or the Leopard so we were extremely fortunate.
Stay tuned for Part 2 of our Adventure when I share with you one of our favourite Safari snacks!
This week, while on a family vacation in Mexico, we took a food walking tour in Puerto Vallarta. We had signed up for “A Three Hour Tour.” Luckily this tour was on land and not on the high seas! We met our guide, Ricardo, at the entrance to the restaurant Mole Rosa. He promised us an adventure and lots of little tastes of the local food of the region. A little humour and a few short history lessons would be thrown in for extra flavour. Here are my favourite bites of the day.
Our first stop on the tour was Taco Robles, a birria taco stand. Birria is Spanish for slow braised meat. Large pieces of meat, originally made with iguana, but now, made with goat or beef, are smeared with a spicy adobo rub and steam-baked overnight. At Taco Robles, you have a choice of either goat or beef. Lined up three deep, this is arguably the most popular taco stand in Puerto Vallarta. Their tacos are a well known hangover remedy!Ricardo had us pegged as less than adventurous eaters and ordered the beef ones for us. I was mildly insulted, but kept it to myself! The beef tacos were packed full of meltingly tender beef, topped with onions and cilantro. The beef was muy flavourful, redolent of of chiles, bay and cinnamon. Robles serves their taco “dorado” style, basically meaning fried. They use two corn tortillas for each taco. The inner one is soft and pliable, to hold in all the juices, and the outer one is crispy from being fried in the birria fat. Ricardo gave us a crash course in choosing the best taco stands. Obviously, the biggest problem associated with taco stands is hygiene, since they do not have running water. Here are his top 3 tips:
1. Make sure that that the person who handles the money and dirty dishes is NOT the same person who handles the food.
2. Check to see if the paper or plastic plates are reused or are covered with a fresh plastic bag for each new customer.
3. Generally the stands with the biggest lineups are usually a safe bet!
I was anticipating our second stop, Cesar’s Coconut Stand, with great excitement. In business since 1984, Cesar lops the top of the coconut off with a razor sharp machete. A veritable Mexican Zorro! The clear liquid was then poured into cups for us to sample. Full of magnesium, potassium and electrolytes, the coconut water tasted so pure and fresh, a far cry from the stuff we buy in a can back home.What he did next really surprised me. He scooped out the flesh of the coconut, cut it into strips and then stuffed the coconut into a plastic bag. He added a squirt of fresh lime juice, some brown sugar, a pinch of cayenne and tiny dash of salt. Then he shook the bag to distribute the seasoning evenly all over the coconut. The Mexican version of Shake ‘n Bake! We all sampled it and most of us discretely deposited the remains in the garbage can when Cesar wasn’t looking. I guess it must be an acquired taste. I prefer my coconut baked into a macaroon.Our next stop was at Tacos el Cuñado. According to Ricardo, they are the top carne asada taco stand in town. “Carne asada” is literally translated as grilled meat. It refers to thin marinated beef, usually skirt steak, that has been grilled. Ricardo explained to us that while cuñado means brother-in-law, the reference is usually an insult. In guy code it is interpreted as a brother-in-law that is mostly hated by the husband and all his brothers for being an idiot. The exchange might go something like this:
Brother 1: “Oh man, my wife is making me take el cuñado with us to the hockey game”
Brother 2: “Dude, that sucks big time. That guy is such a dick, I can’t stand him.”
This place has been in business since 1968. It is currently run by the original owner’s son, Jorge, and his brothers. I do not believe there are any brother-in-laws working there with them!! In addition to the skirt steak tacos, they also do pork tacos. Both are served on soft corn tortillas. Lined up on the counter are an assortment of salsas or topping your taco. They are arranged in order of heat, from “salsa for wusses” all the way up to “a fiery habanero” that would put hair on your chest. I tried the Vallarta style guacamole which was blended with a mildly spicy tomatillo salsa.
To put out the fire in our throats and bellies, Ricardo took us to for a glass of “tuba water.” Created by a sweet little old man by the name of Conception, tuba water is made from the sap of the coconut palm, lightly fermented and mixed with palm sugar, walnuts and diced apples. He serves it chilled and it was smooth and very refreshing. The only tree I have ever had the sap from is a maple tree, but palm sap is quite yummy too! I bet it would be great on macadamia coconut pancakes Then we treked off to the charming family owned restaurant Mole Rosa.Specializing in various moles, Chef Gunther treated to a sampling of chicken enchiladas covered in three varieties. This is one of the most beautiful plates of food I have ever been presented with. The “mole rojo” sauce on the left is made from a Guajillo and Ancho chiles, garlic and it is finished with a tiny bit of mexican chocolate. The “mole verde” in the center was my favourite bite of the day! Made from green tomatillos, ground coriander seed, Serrano and jalapeno peppers, and roasted pumpkin seeds, this was light and really fresh tasting. This mole is not simmered for hours with tons of spices. It’s characteristic fresh taste is derived from the addition of herbs at last minute of preparation. The “mole rosa” on the right is made with Serrano and jalapeno peppers, pine nuts, white chocolate, aniseed and roasted beets which create the most gorgeous shade of pink. It was quite earthy tasting with a hint of sweetness.
At Gaby’s Restaurant we all trooped upstairs for a bowl of Tortilla soup. Garnished with fried tortilla strips, avocado and cotija cheese (a hard crumbly Mexican cow’s milk cheese), we all licked our bowls clean.We finished the meal off with a shot of tequilla. Apparently I have been shooting tequilla incorrectly all my life! The lick of salt, shot of tequilla followed by the wedge of lime is for gringos! Ricardo taught us the proper Mexican protocol. You begin with a shot of lime juice to cleanse the palate. Then you follow that with a shot of tequilla. The chaser is a shot of Sangrita. Sangrita, (literally “little blood” in Spanish) is a mixture of tomato juice, orange juice, lime juice, worcestershire sauce, tabasco sauce and salt and pepper. Sangrita was my daughter’s favourite taste of the day!
Our final stop on the tour was to Orgullo Azteca Candy Store, a veritable Mexican Willy Wonka Factory! The shop was started by two partners who wanted to teach future generations all about the joys of traditional Mexican candies. They started small, with a tiny cart, then moved into a store across the street and now have four stores in Puerto Vallarta. We got to sample many local treats but my favourite were the candied pecans. Vallarta Tours was the perfect way to get to know the people and taste the local flavours of Puerto Vallarta. If you are visiting the region and have a spare afternoon, Ricardo would love to show you his town.
In mid-September we took a trip to New York City with our good friends the Grizzlies. Grizzly is not their real name. This is just my pet nickname for them as they share many of the same personality traits as grizzly bears. As you may know, grizzly bears hibernate for the winter. In preparation for hibernation, they must eat heavily for several weeks prior to the hibernation period, as they will be living off the stored fat for several months. Apparently this was the weekend Mr. Grizzly intended to pack on his necessary pounds. (And he took us along as hostages!) I chronicled the first part of our trip in my last post. Following is Part 2 of our adventure.
Saturday morning dawned sunny and warm! With only half a day left in our New York Adventure, we had a momentous decision ahead of us. Mr Grizzly had originally booked our farewell lunch at Jean Georges. We ate lunch there a few years ago the last time we visited NYC with the Grizzlies. Their lunch special, 2 courses for $38, is renowned among foodies in the know. While you may not consider a $38 lunch cheap, it is a fantastic bargain for a Michelin starred restaurant.
I can not remember exactly what I ate the last time we dined there, but I do recall that it was quite a hushed and serious place. What I do recall, with unfailing certainty, is the Bon Bon Trolley, that they wheeled over at the end of our lunch. All through lunch, I had been watching the waiter manning the trolley. As he approached each table he opened a huge glass jar filled with handmade pale pink marshmallows, almost the exact shade as Essie’s Ballet Slipper nail polish, and lifted one out with tongs. Then he proceeded to cut each one in half with very elegant silver scissors. I inquired whether marshmallow cutting was a position you had to be promoted to. He responded that it was an entry level job. I seriously considered applying!
This time, we made the decision to cancel our lunch at Jean Georges, and feast at Smorgasburg instead. Please know that this was not a decision we took lightly. Smorgasburg, located in the hot and happening town of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, is an open air food market, featuring over 100 vendors. The New York Times has dubbed it, “The Woodstock of Eating.” We figured that Mr. Grizzly could be quite efficient at Smorgasburg, in packing on his necessary pounds for his upcoming winter of hibernation!
Smorgasburg, just a short 30 minute subway ride from mid-town Manhattan, is located in an empty waterfront lot on the East River, between North 6th and 7th Streets. It boasts a picturesque view of the Manhattan skyline. However, we were not here for the views. We were here to feast! We arrived shortly after 11:00 am, and most of the vendors were still setting up.
We were quite strategic in our eating plan. We decided to walk the grounds first to get the lay of the land, see what the offerings were, before we bought anything. You must come with an empty stomach, loose pants and, while some vendors take credit cards, a pocket full of cash is a good idea. It is also ideal to come with a group of four or more. That way, you can order lots of different items, and just have a taste of each.
We came, we ate, we conquered! Here are some of the yummy bites we sampled!
1. S’more BakeryWhile the “Salted Sailor” (vanilla bean marshmallow and a salted caramel ganache sandwiched between clover honey graham wafers) was calling my name, I got sidetracked by the “All in One Cookie.” Salted Oats, chocolate chunks and vanilla bean marshmallow all packaged together in a tidy cookie. It made an amazing first course! It had the ideal cookie texture; caramelized and crispy edges with a softer, chewy center. They packed a flavourful punch of salty and sweet!2. Danny Macaroons With all they hype that macarons get, macaroons seem like the forgotten sister. Danny Cohen has not forgotten about them. He gives them all the love and attention they deserve. I am coco-nuts about the Salted Caramel and the Raspberry Jalapeno Jam flavours!
3. Pain D’AvignonAfter all that sugar from the cookies, we needed something savory. We sampled the Mini Picholine Olive Rolls. Salty from the olives, aromatic from a bit of fresh rosemary, these mini rolls sported a beautiful open crumb. They were chewy and the crust had just the right amount of crunch.
4. ChedbredWithout question, the honey sea salt chedbred was the best thing I ate all day in Brooklyn!A quote from their web site says it all! “A deceptively simple, bordering on majestic cornbread that thrives off of a subtle sweetness from honey. Topped with brown butter crumble and sprinkled with sea salt, it strikes a perfect balance through contrast.”
5. Milk TruckWe stopped dead in our tracks when we came upon Milk Truck. Grilled Cheese, Milk Shakes and a Mac and Cheese Bar. How could we resist? We opted for the classic Mac and Cheese: Three cheese bechamel sauce topped with housemade rosemary bread crumbs, with a mix-in of double smoked bacon. I was surprised that they used farfalle (bowties), as the pasta shape. I am a traditionalist and prefer my mac and cheese with elbow macaroni. I have since heard lots of buzz about their grilled cheese sandwiches. Should have had one of those instead!
6. Lonestar Empire
Mr Grizzly started chatting to the lady in the blue bandanna over at Lonestar Empire about their “Slow Smoked Texas Style Brisket Sandwich.” She explained that they use Angus Beef Brisket and season it liberally with just salt and pepper. Then they smoke it low and slow- a good 15 hours over Texas mesquite wood. The low and slow method gives the fat in the meat time to render out, making the beef unbelievably moist and tender. She was unequivocal in her recomendation of ordering the brisket “moist” rather than “lean’. Since we were all about calorie loading, we opted for the moist. Hand carved to order, succulent brisket was piled onto a soft potato roll and topped with a vinegar laced tangy tomato based BBQ sauce. This sandwich was killer good!
7. Pit Beef NYC
The brisket sandwich at Lonestar had us craving more meat, so we ordered the “Marz Attack” at Pit Beef. This sandwich was built with pit pulled pork, a fried egg, and topped with chipotle cheddar and BBQ sauce. Sadly, it sounded better than it tasted. The pork was a bit dry , especially when compared to the moist brisket over at Lonestar.
8. Ramen Burger
When we first arrived at Smorgasburg, we couldn’t help noticing a huge lineup at one tent: Ramen Burger. It was barely 11 am, they weren’t even cooking yet, and already the lineup was at least 50 people long. What was the deal here we wondered? Could these ramen burgers be the new “cronut”?
We decided not to join the line and sample some other things first. However, about an hour later, Mr. Grizzly’s curiosity got the best of him. He wandered over to the head of the line and started chatting with some of the folks. He got quite an education in the Ramen Burger.
Created by Keizo Shimamoto, this is no ordinary burger. The all beef patty is sandwiched between two discs of ramen noodles, which have been cooked crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. Topped with green onions, a secret Shoyu sauce and arugula, the burger has a sweet and a salty taste. Although I didn’t actually taste the Ramen Burger, Mr Grizzly did charm his way into a few bites from some lovely women at the head of the line who had been waiting since 8:00 am! He reported to us that he didn’t understand what all the hype was about.
Shockingly there was no lineup at the Quinoa Falafel tent!
9. BFC (Buttermilk Fried Chicken)Mrs. Grizzly wandered off on her own and came back with buttermilk fried chicken and cheddar waffles. The coating was so thick, we could not cut it with our plastic fork and knife. The only way to eat this delicious chicken is to pick it up and eat it with your hands! A shatteringly crispy coating gave way to tender moist flavourful chicken meat. The waffles were good, but really, it’s all about the chicken! Don’t forget to add a squeeze of their black maple sauce (maple syrup with a balsamic vinegar reduction).
10. Krumville Bakery
It was the bundt cake at the Krumville tent that got my attention. I had never seen a bundt pan in that shape before. Apparently it is called the Heritage Bundt pan. I must get one of these! It looks like a giant pinwheel. We started chatting with the folks at Krumville and we soon discovered that everything under their tent is Gluten Free! We ended up buying the zucchini goat cheese bacon tartlette. Yummy!!
We thought we had hit our limit, but apparently we were wrong. There was still a tiny little corner of my stomach that had room for fries at Home Frites, and Mrs. Grizzly had room for S’more Pie!
Feeling happy and quite full, we waddled our way out of the fair grounds. A perfect day in Brooklyn!
It’s possible that I may never look at pizza the same way again. Last weekend we visited NYC with our friends, The Grizzlies. Now, I should tell you that “The Grizzlies” is not their real name. It is an alias I use to protect their identity. They are such fabulous travelling companions, I worry that if I reveal their identity, others will want to travel with them and they will never be free to travel with us.
We decided to go to NYC with them to celebrate my husband and Mr. Grizzly’s birthdays (just a week apart). I have given them this nickname as they share many similarities with grizzly bears. As you may know, grizzly bears hibernate for the winter. In preparation for hibernation, they must eat heavily for several weeks prior to the hibernation period as they will be living off the stored fat for several months. Apparently this was the weekend Mr. Grizzly intended to pack on his necessary pounds. (And he took us along as hostages!)
Usually when I travel, I spend many hours obsessing over what to do and where to eat. This time I left the itinerary planning up to Mr. Grizzly. We travelled to NYC with them in 2010 and Mr. Grizzly did such an outstanding job planning our itinerary on that trip that I put myself in his hands again.
The only suggestion that I made was Scott’s Greenwich Village Pizza Walking Tour that I had read about on Serious Eats and was intrigued. Plus, I figured if it was a walking tour we might burn off a few calories!
We met in the West Village at 11:30 am to begin the tour. As soon as Scott started his introduction, I knew we were in for a special treat. His enthusiasm was infectious. His knowledge of the history and culture of pizza would put wikipedia to shame. I was ready to follow Scott wherever he chose to lead us. Scott introduced us to his friend Jared (photo on the right), who would be joining us on the tour. Jared shares Scott’s passion for pizza with a fervor that only the young can sustain!
Our first stop on the tour was Kesté on Bleeker St. ” Kesté ” in the dialect of Naples translates to “this is it” which is a reference to the simplicity of the pizza here. All the hallmarks of a classic Neapolitan pizza are here – San Marzano tomatoes, Caputo double zero flour, house-made buffalo mozzarella, fresh basil, olive oil and a blisteringly hot wood burning oven.
Once inside, Scott gathered us around the oven and explained the physics of the dome shaped oven at Kesté. Not being a science person, I feel ill-equipped to transfer the knowledge to you guys, but suffice it to say that Scott’s eyes lit up and he got a little flushed in his cheeks when he got close to that gorgeous copper domed oven. It is fed with wood from ash trees. The oven gets up to almost 1000°F. It needs to cool down to about 700°F before it is ready for pizza baking.
At Keste, there are two guys working in the kitchen to prepare the pizza. The first, “The Pizzaiolo”, makes the pizza. The second, “The Fornaio” operates the oven. You can see them both at work in this little video I prepared. Just click on “pizza tour.” to view.
As we waited for the pizzas to come out of the oven Scott pointed out the strangely shaped knife each of us had been given. He explained that Neapolitan style pizzas are eaten with a knife and fork and the knife has an angled serrated cutting edge that to make it easier to cut your pizza while on a plate. He gave each of us a “Pizza Journal” so that we could jot down our personal reflections of each slice we sampled. He said that we would discuss and compare our observations after we ate.
McDonalds move over! Neapolitan pizzas are the original fast food. These pies cooked in a 1 minute and 35 seconds! When it arrived at our table the first thing we noticed was that the middle of the pie was quite thin as compared to the crust, which was puffed and blistered to perfection. There was silence as we all chewed and ruminated. The underside of the crust was slightly charred. The crust had an almost english muffin like chewiness, not a crisp cracker like texture at all. It sort of reminded me of naan bread. The sauce was quite tangy and a bit acidic. The cheese was creamy and a bit salty. The fresh basil and olive oil took this pizza to the next level!
Scott explained that the dough is made with a flour that is quite low in protein, only 11.5% protein content, as compared with bread flour that has a 14.2% protein content. At this point the eyes of several members of our group began to glaze over from too much information. I, on the other hand, got quite excited. It has been a while since I had the opportunity to debate the merits of differing protein levels of flour. The dough spends 48 hours in the fridge, slowly fermenting and developing amazing flavour.
The sauce is basically Ciao brand San Marzano canned tomatoes that are crushed and salted. That’s it! No cooking and no sugar added. While we were finishing up our pizza, Kesté’s owner, Roberto Caporuscio, showed up. Scott was positively gushing when he introduced us to Roberto. He greeted us all so warmly, explained that he got his start in the food business as a cheese maker, and then brought out some of his homemade mozzarella di bufala and burrata to try. They were outstanding! He was such a generous host and made us feel quite loved. Sadly, we had to leave once all our pizza was gone.Our second stop on the tour was just across the road from Kesté. John’s Pizzeria, an institution in the Village since 1929.The style of pie at John’s is best described as Classic New York pizza. Many have described John’s as the quintessential New Your Pizza. The pie is cooked in a coal burning oven. The oven at John’s is square, not domed shape. These pizzas are cooked at a slightly lower temperature than at Kesté. (600°f vs 700°F). They take about four minutes to cook.
When the pizza arrived at the table, Mr Grizzly eagerly reached over to grab a slice. Scott came trotting over to our table and told us to wait a minute. He reached into his backpack and pulled out… an infrared thermometer??He measured the surface temperature of our pizza and told us that it was still too hot to eat. We would blister the roof of our mouths if we ate it too soon. We needed to let it cool to 175°F before we could sample. Safety first folks! At this point, I began to think that Scott was one of the coolest people I have ever met. Man, I need one of those thermometers!
Finally the pizza reached a safe eating temperature and we dug in. The crust was quite thin and quite a bit tougher than at Kesté. I observed that the sauce was sitting on top of the cheese, so that the sweet taste of John’s sauce is what hit my tastebuds first. The cheese was quite stringy and salty, but in a good way. There was a delicious layer of oil, from the cheese that was floating on the top of the pizza. Scott explained that the cheese goes on first here, and then the sauce. They use (Polly-O), a low moisture mozzarella and it is sliced, not shredded. The crust is made with General Mills bread flour which has a 14.2% protein content, which explains the tougher crust. They allow the dough to ferment in the fridge for about 24 hours.
My first bite took me right back to my childhood. Now this was pizza! Interestingly enough, I later learned about something called Pizza Cognition Theory (PCT). Sam Sifton, former NY Times food critic posited that, “The first slice of pizza a child sees and tastes …, becomes, for him, pizza.” I grew up eating Monte Carlo Pizza in Toronto (now called Mama’s Pizza). It had that same thin crust, sweet sauce and stringy cheese with a thin layer of oil on top.
On the way to our third and final slice, Scott stopped and took a few minutes to wax poetic on the subject of pizza boxes.
As a collector of pizza boxes for the past 10 years, Scott knows his way around a pizza box. He spent a few minutes expounding on the mechanics of corrugated boxes and pointed out that if a box has no vents, the steam from a hot pie gets trapped inside and the crust can take on the smell and taste of cardboard. All of the sudden, it became crystal clear to me why the crust of Pizza Pizza always reminded me of cardboard. Scott’s book on the subject of boxes is being released on November 5!
Our final stop was Famous Ben’s Pizza at the corner of Spring and Thompson, in SOHO. There is an adorable statue of ben just outside the shop.
Ben’s specializes in Sicilian style pizza. These are thick crust square pies that take about 20 minutes to bake at 550°F in gas fuelled deck ovens. Mrs. Grizzly and I generally don’t love thick crust pizzas. We were expecting to be disappointed by this slice. After just one bite we were instantly smitten! We expected the crust to be doughy and heavy but somehow it was the exact opposite. This crust was light and bubbly with an amazing bottom crust crunch, like good focaccia.Scott explained how they make the Sicilian style pie at Ben’s. The sheet pan is heavily oiled and then the dough is stretched to fit into the pan. It gets a nice long rest, about 2 hours, and then it is topped with sauce. Then it goes into the oven for about 10 minutes to get the crust started. The cheese, lots of it, is added during the last 10 minutes of baking.
It was here at Ben’s that Scott demonstrated for us what pizza aficionados like to call “cheese pull”.
This is not to be confused with the dreaded “cheese drag”, where all the cheese comes off the top of the pizza in one bite.
It so happened that Mike Kurtz, of Mike’s Hot Honey was taking Scott’s tour with us that day. Mike treated us all to a squirt of his honey to dip our pizza into. What a yummy combination with the cheese and crust. First you get the sweet and after about 2 seconds, the heat hits you in the back of your throat. Jared and I agreed that it would be so much fun to serve this honey with apples at Rosh Hashanah dinner next year. What a surprise!
If you happen to be in NYC and are looking for a really fun and unique way to spend a few hours, check out Scott’s tours. It is hard not to be swept up into his enthusiasm. I am sure his parents must be so proud of him. Really, all parents want from their children is to see them find their passion in life. If they can make a living at it, even better.
Stay tuned for Part 2 of our new York Adventure with the Grizzlys, where we master the NYC subway system and make the trek the Williamsburg Brooklyn for Smorgasburg – the Woodstock of Eating!
I am writing this blog post the day after my return from an incredible and somewhat surprising visit to Israel. I want to get it all down while the memories are still fresh in my jet-lagged addled brain. This was my ninth visit to the country, and each time I go I discover and observe something new. Six of those visits have been to celebrate the Bar and Bat Mitzvahs of my daughter and nieces and nephews on my husband’s side of the family. While we all live in North America, over the past 10 years we have made the journey to Israel to celebrate these milestones in our children’s lives.
On my first visit to Israel I was a fresh-faced 24 year old. I thought the country was quite beautiful, but to be honest, I was put off by the people. They seemed so abrupt and quite frankly, rude. Everyone pushed and shoved to get onto the busses. Hadn’t they learned how to say Slicha. It wasn’t until, almost 20 years later when I returned for my second visit, that I truly came to love and understand the people of this tiny but mighty nation. This time I visited with with my husband. His oldest brother served as a paratrooper in the Israeli Army and had made several lifelong friends. These friends basically adopted my husband’s entire extended family. Native born Israelis are called Sabras, named after this relative of the prickly pear cactus. Like the fruit they seem tough, but are really very sweet on the inside once you get to know them.
While all our trips have been quite magical, this journey was extra special as it was the last B’nai Mitzvah we will celebrate for this generation on my husband’s side of the family. There is a lot of good-natured ribbing between my husband and his 5 siblings, regarding who among them has the most controlling personality. Most would agree that my husband’s sister, Auntie M, gets the award for bossiest sibling. With five brothers, she has had to take charge to get her way. Ask any of her four children and they will surely agree! In this instance, Auntie M’s quest for control and fine attention to detail was whole-heartedly welcomed. She, along with Tova Wald, planned an extraordinary adventure for our huge contingent of family and friends.
While in Jerusalem we had the opportunity to participate in a culinary workshop with Chef Ezra Kedem, of Arcadia Restaurant. He is considered to be at the forefront of New Israeli cuisine. His stellar restaurant showcases his unique culinary style.
Ezra was destined to become a chef. His childhood was spent at the knee of his mother and grandmother, visiting the food markets of Machne Yehuda, Bethlehem, Ramalla and Jerusalem’s old city markets. Ezra soaked up the traditions and cultures of both the Jerusalemite and Iraqi-Jewish kitchens of his childhood.
After his military service, he studied in New York at the French Culinary Institute, apprenticing for Chef Jacques Pepin for 18 months, and then went on to intern at Alison on Dominik for Sicilian born Chef Tom Valenti.
Several months ago, Chef Ezra opened a private studio kitchen in the charming Jerusalem neighbourhood of Ein Kerem. With a breathtaking view of the Judean hills, he has created a small kitchen workshop, organic garden and stunning glass dining room. He holds private events and cooking classes here, featuring seasonal produce.
We were blown away with the complex flavours he was able to create with such simple fresh ingredients. He taught us many new techniques. His generous and compassionate nature and made us feel instantly at ease. Making guests feel at home is what he excels at. There were 7 of us at the workshop, 3 mother and daughter teams and our intrepid leader Tova. Ever the consummate host, large glasses of Israeli Chardonnay appeared. When most of us murmured that it was only 10 a.m., steaming mugs of cappuccino were quickly summoned forth.
Chef Ezra is not only charming and a wonderful teacher, he also happens to be a very compassionate man. We discovered that, in his spare time, he conducts Food Therapy Workshops for physically and developmentally challenged individuals.
We began with Eggplant Carpaccio. Chef Ezra explained that while most people associate carpaccio with beef, it can really refer to any food that is sliced or pounded thinly . In this rendition, eggplants are stabbed with a fork and then set over the gas flame to char for a good 20-30 minutes. Then they are peeled and sliced, leaving the seeds in the center to be discarded.
The soft flesh is gently flattened with a fork and the resulting Carpaccio is dressed with raw tahini, yogurt, tomato, garlic, olive oil, lemon juice, parsley and chopped walnuts.
It is not an exaggeration to say that the plates were literally licked clean. We all got a chance to practice our knife skills. Goat Cheese Ravioli were made crispy by frying them in sage butter. Topped with a simple tomato concasse and more goat cheese left the group silent and mopping up every last drop with bread! A demonstration of how to take the harsh bite out of red onions was so simple we could not believe that massaging the onions with cider vinegar for just 3 minutes could make such a difference. He finished them off with some olive oil, dried mint and a pinch of salt. These would be great on a burger, a sandwich or even mixed into a salad with chickpeas, grilled corn and little cherry tomatoes. We also make a risotto with spelt, freekeh and bulgar. Freekeh is destined to overtake quinoa in popularity. You heard it first here folks!!Our session ended in the glass dining room where we shared a chocolate tart, topped with a grape compote and coffee sauce, followed by a stellar shredded and caramelized phyllo tart, topped with a plum compote and mascarpone cheese. We all learned new techniques that we will be able to practice at home. Learning from Chef Ezra was a joy! He has a calm, zen-like manner that instantly puts you at ease and his murmurs of encouragement had us all feeling like rock stars in the kitchen. If you find yourself travelling to Jerusalem you will be immensely rewarded by a visit to Chef Ezra Kedem’s breathtaking studio!
One of the best things I ate during my trip to Barcelona was discovered purely by accident. We had just finished our Architectural walking tour of the city and based on a recommendation from our guide we stopped in at La Botiga at 27 Rambla Catalunya for lunch. This was only our second day in Barcelona so we were still learning the ways of the city. Our first mistake was showing up for lunch at 12:45. Talk about looking like tourists! We might as well have shown up wearing baseball caps, white Adidas running shoes and a Canadian Maple Leaf sewn onto our backpacks. They were not even open yet.
We quickly learned that the Spanish are on an entirely different meal schedule than North Americans. Breakfast is usually just a shot of espresso and a pastry or roll. Then around 11 am they may have a cafe con leche (espresso with milk) and a little bocadillo (sandwich). Lunch is typically served between 2:00 and 4:00 pm. Dinner is not usually served until 9:00 pm at the earliest. Sometimes they will eat their main meal at lunch and just have a light snack, (tapas) for dinner, or they may reverse it and have tapas for lunch and have their main meal at night.
We returned to La Botiga just as they were opening. We were starving by this point and quickly perused the menu and ordered a bunch of little tapas for sharing. Several minutes later, the waiter returned and told us that at least half of our choices were “already gone.” Huh? Already gone? How could that be? They just opened. We were the first customers there. Perhaps some savvy Barcelonians have caught onto the North American trend of eating lunch at noon, and snuck in to the restaurant before they were officially opened and ate all the best stuff. Just saying, it could have happened that way.
Since we were not eating meat, our choices were limited. We settled on fried artichokes, butternut squash tortellini with pepitas, mac and cheese (which we discovered they had snuck some ham into) and pan con tomate. Just some light carb loading.
Most of the food was ok, nothing very special. But the pan con tomate, oh my! It was truly one of the best things we ate all week. Pan con tomate, translates into “bread with tomato.” Yawn. Not exactly the most exciting dish you may be thinking. But you would be wrong. Pan con tomate is a Spanish trick that turns simple bread, tomatoes, oil and salt into something insanely delicious.
When it arrived at the table, we were expecting bread with diced tomatoes on top, like you get with bruschetta. This looked like it had barely any tomato at all. When we inquired about this, the waiter explained how this dish, a Catalan specialty, is made. First the bread is toasted or grilled. Then a ripe tomato is cut in half and roughly rubbed over the surface of the toasted bread until all you are left holding in your hand is the skin of the tomato. Then, some fruity spanish olive oil is drizzled over the top and it is finished with a few flakes of sea salt.
As I took my first bite, the crunch on the outside surface of the warm bread and the yeasty scent assaulted my senses. The center of the bread, so chewy, was filled with little nooks and crannies. These little air pockets were bursting with the sweet and fragrant tomato essence and the fruity nutty olive oil. The little crystals of sea salt on top just melted on my tongue. How could something so simple be so good?
From this meal forward, our mission was to order pan con tomate every time it appeared on the menu. Little did we know that the pan con tomate at La Botiga would be the best one we tasted. I would go back for a big plate of that and a bottle of Cava and I would be transported to my happy place. Here is a sampling of some of the pan con tomate we sampled over our week in Barcelona. At the end of the week, we realized that the pan con tomate we devoured at La Botiga, had become our Gold Standard, by which all others were judged. It became apparent that the one variable that was more important than any of the others, was the bread. Without an open crumb structure (i.e.: lots of air pockets and nooks and crannies) on the interior of the bread, the tomato pulp and olive oil have nowhere to soak into. Armed with the knowledge from completing the Bread Bakers Apprentice Challenge, I knew there was one bread that had the ideal structure to create this. Ciabatta bread.
Still obsessing over pan con tomate once I arrived home, I needed to see if I could create it in my kitchen. I somehow doubted that it would taste as good here, as it did when I was on holiday in Barcelona. There is something about eating the food in a spectacular venue that elevates it to mythical status. I went to Art-Is-In Bakery here in Ottawa and bought a ciabatta loaf. I sliced the loaf horizontally into 3 layers. I toasted the bread in my toaster oven. I experimented with 2 different types of tomatoes, kumato and plum. I liked the sweeter, thinner skinned kumatos best.
I drizzled the bread with some olive oil and salt I brought home from my holiday.
The verdict: a perfect crunchy and chewy snack that transported me right back to Barcelona. I can only imagine how good this will taste this summer when I grill the bread and use local vine ripened sweet summer tomatoes.
Regular readers of this blog may know that my drink of choice is Prosecco. However, when in Barcelona, we switched our allegiance and guzzled quaffed Cava. Made in the Catalonia region of Spain, Cava is the generic term for Spanish sparkling wine. I should explain here that Cava and Prosecco are very different from Champagne.
While all Champagne is sparkling wine, not all sparkling wine is Champagne. To be labelled Champagne, the sparkling wine must come from the Champagne region in France. The main difference between Champagne and Prosecco/Cava lies in the method by which each is made.
Champagne is fermented into wine normally, then bottled with a little yeast and sugar, capped, and left to referment. This second fermentation produces carbon dioxide that is trapped in the bottle; the sparkling wine is left to steep with the yeast in it for an additional several years and then the sediment is removed and the Champagne is sold. With Prosecco and Cava, the second fermentation takes place in a specially reinforced tank. Once the second fermentation is complete, the sparkling wine is immediately drained from the yeast and bottled. So the aroma and flavour of the yeast is an integral quality of Champagne, but not of Prosecco or Cava, because the yeast is removed from the tank of Prosecco and Cava as soon as it has done its job.
What this means is that the lack of the yeasty aroma and flavor in Prosecco and Cava allows the varietal characteristics of the grapes to shine through. This is an important difference between Champagne and Prosecco/Cava. I have never really liked the yeasty quality of Champagne. I find it too heavy. I guess I’m just a cheap date, but I really prefer the light fresh quality of Prosecco and now, after my trip to Barcelona, Cava.
Since our knowledge of Cava was quite limited, each night we asked our waiters to recommend a brand. Purely by coincidence, we ended up sampling Cavas alphabetically! The first night we were brought a bottle of Aria, the second night Bertha and the third Colet. We stopped paying attention after that.
.One day we stopped into Tapeo for lunch and we spotted sangria made with cava on the menu. Things were never quite the same after that revelation.
Our lunch at Tapeo was so delicious. We were all quite excited to see a green salad on the menu. After eating fried tapas for several days, we were ready for something fresh and green. The acid and sweet balance in the strawberry and manchego cheese salad was perfect. Although Italian and not Spanish in origin, I can never resist ordering Buratta cheese on a menu when I see it. The rendition at Tapeo, with tomatoes and olive oil was creamy, slightly tangy and perfectly rich and yummy. We also ordered the eggplant fried and dressed in lime and honey. Unfortunately there were only a few little pieces to photograph as we gobbled it up so quickly. We also ordered “pan con tomate”, which translates roughly to tomato bread. I will report more thoroughly on this dish in my next post. Suffice it to say, we all became obsessed with this national dish!
Organized walking tours are one of my favourite ways to explore a new city. I have tried following walking tours in guide books, but I am directionally challenged and always seem to get lost. Plus, I find that seeing the city through the eyes of a passionate local, eager to show off their city to be a wonderful way to really delve into the culture.
Sometimes you want to cover a bit more ground than walking will allow. Several years ago, while visiting Paris I took a Segway tour. We suggested doing a similar tour in Barcelona, but my god-daughter had a better idea! GoCars.GoCars are the latest trend in sightseeing. It’s a city tour, but with a difference. They offer a guided tour using GPS technology. Essentially, these are three-wheeled scooters. There are three different GPS tours to choose from. Your charming GPS guide (I nicknamed ours “Jill”) not only tells you where to go, but she tells you what you are seeing along the way. And the best part was that when I missed a turn, (which I did several times!), Jill did not say “recalculating” in a disappointed tone of voice, but “Oops, you missed a turn. No problem, we’ll get you back on course straight away”, in an ever so encouraging and loving manner. She sang songs to us, told us jokes and even gave us restaurant recommendations.
We arrived at the GoCar garage, just across from the Santa Caterina Market. We had to sign several standard waivers and one special one that said we would be responsible for the fine if we were stopped by the police for not having an international drivers license. Say what??? We didn’t have international licences. The woman told us not to worry. No one had ever been stopped by the police. The chances of that were quite remote.
She gave us our helmets, had us watch a short video and then sent us out into the traffic! I had never driven a scooter of motorcycle before, so the hand controls for accelerating and braking were foreign to me. I was a bit shaky for the first 10 minutes trying to use my feet to press on the non-existent gas and brake pedals. The staff at the store said that other motorists on the road were quite friendly and would honk and wave at us. I accidentally cut off a bus driver and he did indeed honk and give me a special one finger wave. He was not charmed or amused by us. The cars go up to 40 miles per hour and are just a blast to drive.
We chose the Olympic Barcelona tour, which took us through the Gothic Quarter, the Raval District and then up to Montjuic, home to the 1992 Olympic Games. You are able to stop and park your car at any time and get out for pictures or to walk around. After about half an hour I heard a police siren and saw, in my rear view mirror, that our daughters were being pulled over by the police. Apparently, the were driving in the oncoming traffic lane. The officers were quite sweet and patiently explained to them how Barcelona roads worked, and soon we were on our way again.
Check out this you tube video to get a closer look at how these cars operate.
I met one of my very best friends at summer camp when we were 13 years old. We first bonded over giggling about a certain boy we both had a crush on while washing our hair in the rain with Herbal Essence Shampoo. This was way before the days of acid rain, and our camp was in the Haliburton Highlands of Ontario, so the rainwater, while a little cold, was fairly clean. Our friendship, like the shampoo, has endured. Not sure what became of that boy!
In 1991 we both discovered we were pregnant and expecting within several months of each other. She with her fourth child (she already had three boys) and me with my second child (I already had one son). We joked that it would be so cute if we both had girls and they ended up becoming friends. Since I was living in Ottawa at the time and she was in Toronto, it seemed unlikely, but we wished for it anyways.
Fast forward 21 years and yes indeed we both had girls. Her daughter became my god-daughter and these girls of ours did indeed become friends. To celebrate this milestone birthday of our daughters, we decided to take a trip to mark the occasion. After much lobbying back and forth, Barcelona became the destination of choice. For the record, the moms lobbied hard for a beach holiday where we could just park ourselves under a big palm tree and read and drink Prosecco all day, but the girls lobbied harder for a cultural European city.
I decided to journal our adventure here in my blog, so that one day, when our daughters have daughters, they can look back on this holiday adventure and reminisce! Of course, the journalling will have a culinary bent. This is a food blog after all. Had we been thinking clearly, when planning this trip, perhaps Barcelona was not the best choice from a food perspective. My daughter is a vegetarian and my girlfriend and her daughter keep kosher. Barcelona is a haven for pork lovers!
We arrived around noon, Barcelona time, which was 6:00 a.m. for us. While our comfy beds at The Grand Hotel Central, were calling to us, we thought it would be wiser to try to stay awake and get on Barcelona time as soon as possible. We went for lunch and had our first tapas meal. We were quite jet lagged so I can’t really remember where this was, but there was one little bocadillo (sandwich) that stood out from all the others. It featured breaded and deep-fried goat cheese that was topped with a blueberry compote. Crispy on the outside, creamy, tangy and salty inside, with the sweetness of the blueberry topping, this was a little bite of perfection. We spent the rest of the afternoon walking around and getting our bearings. It quickly became apparent that only one of us would ever be able to list map reading skills on our resumes. My god-daughter has a keen sense of direction, and she became our North Star. We took a walk down Las Ramblas, a 1.2 kilometer long tree lined pedestrian mall that is in the center of the city. We had heard that the city was rife with pickpockets so we kept our purses close to us, but we had no problems at all. Right in the center of the sidewalk we ran into a cat that charmed us all! El Gato del Raval, is a bronze sculpture by artist Fernando Botero. We stumbled upon La Boqueria, the enormous food market, featuring over 200 food stalls, shops and tapas bars. The lattice wrought iron entrance to the market is a beautiful example of Catalonian Art Nouveau. The market has been here since 1857!The sheer volume of stalls and selection at each stall was astounding. It was all quite overwhelming. It took us over 20 minutes to decide which fruit drink to order. I have purchased a car in less time than that! We blamed our indecision on the jet lag. Pineapple coconut was finally chosen.
The displays were pure culinary art.The candy and dried fruit displays reminded me of the Shuk (Machane Yehuda) in Jerusalem.Baby avocados, just slightly larger than strawberries stopped me in my tracks.The next day dawned cold and rainy, but we came prepared. Dressed in raincoats, rubber boots and armed with umbrellas, we took an Architectural Walking Tour of the city. The walk, organized by Context Tours focuses on the fantastic architecture of Antoni Gaudí, Barcelona’s most important architect. Gaudi’s work can best be described as a cross between Willy Wonka and Dr. Seuss. He was at the forefront of the Modernista style of architecture so prevalent in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries. This style of architecture is perfectly described by author Francois Loyer in his book “Art Nouveau in Catalonia.”
Modernista architecture can be characterized by the use of the curve over the straight line, organic and botanical shapes and motifs, a great richness of ornamentation, bright colours, a disregard of symmetry and a wide use of symbolism….The overall effect is a style of architecture which is very dynamic, very human, very colourful and often absurdly over-the-top when it comes to details and adornment.
Our guide, the charming, enthusiastic and extremely knowledgable Celia (she is an associate professor at the Barcelona School of Architecture) explained that during this time period Barcelona expanded exponentially in size from the medieval Old Town and became a breeding ground for the modernist movement. While this over-the-top, whimsical style may not be everyone’s cup of tea, they certainly make for great photo ops.
After viewing many of his buildings, I was convinced that the term “gaudy” derived from Antoine Gaudi’s over the top style. Apparently not. According to The Online Etymology Dictionary, the word gaudy dates back to the 16th century, well before our Antoine Gaudi was born (1852). It described a joke, plaything or showy ornament.
Gaudi died tragically in 1926. He was run over by a tram. He had spent the last 16 years of his life devoted to the construction of a massive church, The Sagrada Familia Basilica. It remains under construction to this day. There are plans underway to complete the building by 2026, the centenary of his death. Gaudi was fond of saying, “My client his in no hurry.” He was, of course, referring to God! I suspect that not too many clients would be happy with this pace of development.Stay tuned for Part 2 of Friendship in Barcelona, in which we work our way through numerous brands of Spanish Cavas (in alphabetical order) and the girls get pulled over by the police while driving up to Olympic Park.
Before I get down to the business of reporting on Day 10 I am excited to share with you the debut post of a brand new young food blogger. (O.K, full disclosure here, it’s my daughter, and I couldn’t be prouder). Check out her first post at http://bostonbakesforbreastcancer.org/tales-of-a-chocoholic/
O.K. back to Day 10 in Umbria.
My original plan, when I embarked on my trip to Umbria, was to blog at the end of each day, about the single best thing I had eaten. Boy was that a naive plan! First of all, trying to narrow down the best thing you ate all day, while travelling through Italy, is no easy task. Almost every morsel I put in my mouth had me declaring, “Could be the best thing I”ve eaten today!” Secondly, after attempting to blog on my first night, full with both food and wine and exhausted from touring all day, I quickly realized I would not be able to write a very coherent post. So I decided to take lots of photos and notes and do it all when I got home. I arrived home on Sept 25! It has taken me over 7 weeks to post about all 10 days, but here we are, finally at the end.
We decided to just hang out at our incredible villa for our last day before the magic was over, and we all turned back into pumpkins to return to our real lives. Although, the body shapes of some of us was beginning to resemble pumpkins, after 10 days of eating our way through the Umbrian countryside. Over breakfast we just feasted our eyes on the incredible views from our terrace.
Liria, our wonderful host, volunteered to give us a cooking class this morning. She offered to teach us whatever we wanted to learn. Without even hesitating, I told Liria I needed to know how to make pappa al pomodoro, the Tuscan tomato bread soup I’d eaten at Cibreo in Florence. Without a doubt, this was the best thing I ate on our trip. I was smitten with this soup.
We gathered in the kitchen and Liria outfitted us with out aprons, chef”s hats and gloves. Gloves??? Wow, I was impressed. When I remarked to Liria how blown away I was with her attention to hygiene, she laughed and said, that she only wears the gloves to protect her manicure and figured that we were like-minded women. Boy, had she pegged us right!
The kitchen here at the villa is a sight to behold. I coveted it all, but most especially, the induction cooktop. I had always thought that a gas cooktop was the best, but the temperature control you get with this cooktop is incredible. The marble back splash was nothing to sneeze at either!
We began with fresh plum tomatoes, basil, spring onions and salt. They were simmered for about 15 minutes and then transferred to a food mill for processing. The food mill is an extremely handy kitchen tool. The skins and seeds of the tomato are separated from the flesh and no peeling is required on your part! It also makes incredible applesauce (no peeling required) and wonderful, fluffy mashed potatoes. We all got a chance to have a spin.
While the tomatoes were being milled, Liria gently simmered some garlic, basil and, her secret ingredient, whole cloves, in a generous glug of olive oil. I was shocked that she used cloves. They are one of the few spices I can not stomach the aroma of. I find them extremely cloying and leave them out of every recipe that calls for them. Liria said that she only uses 4 of them for a huge pot of soup and you can’t really taste them. They just add a background note that enhances all the flavours. She stressed that low heat is key at this stage, as you do not want to brown the garlic, as it would become bitter. After a 10 minute low simmer, the tomato puree is added and that cooks for an additional 10 minutes.
The final addition is breadcrumbs to thicken the soup.
After an additional 10 minutes of simmering, the soup is ladled into bowls and finished off with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil and some fresh julienned basil.
After lunch we had a chance to tour the gardens and see all the fresh produce that grows here at Casali di Monticchio. Grapes, eggplant, olives and figs are just a few of the things we observed, in addition to chickens in a coop for farm fresh scrambled eggs every morning.
For our farewell aperitivo, Liria pulled out all the stops and fed us a feast. Even the villa dog, Parcetta, perked up when the prosciutto came out!
I feel so grateful to have such wonderful and loving friends to have shared this incredible journey with. What a ride it’s been! Thanks to all who have followed along to read about our adventure.
Regular readers of this blog know that I bake my own birthday cake every year. My girlfriend Paula learned this the hard way. I am still apologizing to her for my rudeness!
This year’s cake was inspired by a trip to Charleston South Carolina we took with our friends The Grizzlies. One of the highlights of our weekend was a cooking class with Chef Vinson Petrillo at The Zero George Hotel, a charming 16 room boutique hotel. Chef Vinson is a recent transplant to the Charleston area. Originally from New Jersey, he honed his craft in New York. When I asked him what brought him to Charleston, he replied simply, “My wife wanted kids.” 
They are now the proud and very busy parents of two little ones, aged 1 and 2. As I observed Chef Vincent during our 3-hour class it became obvious to me that he must be an excellent dad. He handled all our questions and comments with great patience and equanimity!
If you’ve ever had a Crunchie chocolate bar or sponge toffee, you know what Honeycomb is. Essentially, you make caramel and add baking soda at the end to produce a bubbly toffee confection. This honeycomb topping was the inspiration for my birthday cake.
Before he began cooking, Chef Vinson emphasized the importance of “mise en place”. Read through the recipe, measure and chop all your ingredients and set out all pans and tools you need before you start cooking. Nowhere is this more important than in the preparation of honeycomb.
I filled and covered the cake with a salted caramel buttercream.
With a cup of tea or a glass of milk, this indulgent cake is the perfect way to celebrate a birthday.
