Cooking with Your Hands Tied

A dear friend has presented me with a cooking challenge: come up with something delicious (or at least interesting) while obeying some highly restrictive dietary rules. This friend is a fantastic cook in her own right, but she is now juggling some hefty responsibilities due to an illness in the family. When the doctor prescribes a strict diet that allows only certain food combinations and bans the majority of meat, seafood, dairy and grains, it's no wonder that even the best cooks would be stymied. Pity the poor patient who must be denied his comfort foods just when he needs it the most.

Fortunately, in this era of vegetarians, vegans, gluten-free, lactose-free, low-cal, low-sodium and other culinary constraints, there is an abundance of workarounds and substitutions that have been tried and tested. So without further ado, I hereby kick off the first of many recipes invented and/or customized for this challenge. I hope that they can also be universally appealing to those of you reading this blog.

Roasted Beet & Potato Salad
Serves 4-6

3-4 beets, preferably with greens attached
2 cups (or as many as you can hold with two hands) red baby potatoes
2 Tbsp olive oil
2 cups baby spinach (more if you don't have beet greens)
½ cup Almost Mayo Sauce
1 tsp sweet paprika

1. Preheat the oven to 425°F (220°C).
2. If applicable, separate the beetroot from the beet greens. Remove the red stems and coarsely chop the leaves.
3. Place the beetroots on tin foil and lightly mist them with water. Wrap the tin foil around the beets, creating a sealed environment in which they can steam. Place the wrapped beets on a baking pan or tray in case of leaks.
4. Put the baby potatoes in a baking dish and drizzle with olive oil. Lightly prick all the potatoes a couple of times to allow steam to escape while they bake. Cover the baking dish with tin foil and seal tightly.
5. Roast both the beets and potatoes in the oven for at least an hour, or until cooked through. While the root vegetables are roasting, do Steps 6-8.
6. If using beet greens, fill a pot with water and bring to a boil. Lower the heat to a simmer and add the chopped beet greens to the water. Blanch briefly until slightly wilted. Strain in a colander and squeeze out any excess water. Set aside and allow to cool.
7. In a bowl, stir the paprika into the Almost Mayo Sauce.
8. Toss together the beet greens (optional), baby spinach and the paprika-spiked Almost Mayo Sauce.
9. When ready, peel the roasted beets (rinse your hands often or use surgical gloves to avoid staining your hands!) and slice them as desired.
10. Halve or quarter any particularly large potatoes. Leave the small ones whole.
11. Add the sliced beets and baby potatoes to the mixed greens. Optionally, season with salt and pepper.

Note: This was inspired by the "Roasted Beetroot and Potato with Paprika Mayonnaise" recipe in The Australian Women's Weekly "New Salads" cookbook. However, my approach to cooking the root vegetables is different, I excluded bacon (which is not allowed in the prescribed diet), I added the beet greens, replaced arugula (not allowed in this food combination) with baby spinach since it can withstand some heat, and I replaced the mayonnaise (also not allowed) with the alternative sauce. [AP: This is an Option #1 recipe.]

Mother's day

I'm dedicating this post to my mother for mother's day and also to Nicholas for creating the most delicious mother's day "French (oh I mean English) onion soup that he made for my mother's day dinner. I had no idea that onions can melt in your mouth it was that good.

Last May my sweet mum (Stana) came to visit me all the way from Australia. I thought she would like to have a holiday and let me cook for her, but no she insisted in making home made phyllo pastry (I have to find these photos and post another time), then turning that into cherry strudel. She also made home made pasta and danish pastries from scratch. What could I do....stop her?? You must realise that I crave my mums cooking every day. what an inspiration. I'm also wondering if my neighbours ever complained about her getting up at 6 am and trimming my hedges and grass..that woman never stops...yes she gardens as well (on a larger scale). This is my mothers way of being, she give and gives and gives like its a bottomless pit. In that pit you will find abundance and we are all hungry souls for her goodness. I took these photos in order to capture her essence while baking her recipes hoping to one day gather them all up to translate into English from Serbian with a photo for each recipe.. Would be nice to have as a keepsake especially to hand down to my kids. Apparently, she takes good sunrise photos. This one is especially meaningful to me as I used to get up at 5 am in Apollo Bay just to watch the sunrise as its really spectacular.
These are her cardamon cinnamon buns...Mugino had at least 5 in one sitting!!! ;)

Oh and I made a strawberry shortcake for a friends baby blessing on the long weekend. Nicholas was the helper, chocolate melter and strawberry cutter. It was a four layer cake - all organic ingredients.

The Anti-Restaurant

A friend recently informed me about a local underground phenomenon called Charlie's Burgers. You can go ahead and click the link, but the website reveals nothing. What little the public knows is unreliable and unverifiable.

In a nutshell, Charlie's Burgers is the name for Toronto's latest anti-restaurant -- a gourmet dining experience that eschews the rigidity and commercialism of a fixed format and venue. Dinners take place at secret locations. The one-off menus are eclectic and adventurous. Guests get to sit at the dining table by invitation only. And reportedly, the roster of chefs include the city's finest talent.

As novel as this sounds, the idea of the anti-restaurant has been around for some time. While I am sure there are examples of this globally, I am speaking specifically of the speakeasies or private kitchens of Hong Kong. The high cost of renting restaurant space and complying with regulatory requirements have driven modest cooks to set up shop, usually at home, serving food without a license.

I first became acquainted with HK's private kitchens upon seeing the "Hidden Hong Kong" episode of Gourmet magazine's Diary of a Foodie. It features Margaret Xu Yuan, a retired advertising executive turned amateur chef. This self-taught torch-bearer of authentic Hong Kong cuisine uses traditional, lo-tech cooking techniques such as manually grinding grains in a stone mill and pressing soy milk curds to make tofu from scratch. [Note: Yuan's recipe for Yellow Earth Chicken is available online. You can also see the Flickr photo album of her private kitchen, Cuisine X (since renamed Yin Yang, I believe).]

Back in Toronto, the mythical "Charlie" requires interested parties to fill out a survey. If the answers satisfy, you get a chance to be considered for a place at the next dinner table. Being a security professional, it's not in my nature to take leaps of faith like this without arming myself with information, but I answered the survey anyway. One question asked me to describe myself without stating the obvious ("I like food" or "I like to cook"). So I told "Charlie" about my cookbook (didn't mention the blog, though). Apparently, that was good enough because my response was accepted. And now we wait to see if I get the luck of the draw. I might not be allowed to talk about it if I do get chosen, but I think you'll be able to tell by watching this blog.

Gastronome Montréalais

I'm a confirmed Torontonian now, having settled into a house of my own last year. But I was, and forever will be, a Montrealer.

Most of the life experiences I draw from took place on that island. Admittedly, the novelty of the city had long worn off by the time I uprooted myself and migrated over to Toronto. When people ask me if I miss it, my answer is typically "no". I've grown tired/bored of rabid Quebec separatism, the stagnant local economy, ill-conceived city management, psychotic drivers, reliably unreliable public transit, a long-suffering and dwindling press, the World Film Fest which has been plagued with an inferiority complex in comparison to its more glamorous peers, and a downtown core that has lost its lustre for me.

That is not to say that I don't yearn for certain things. Obviously, I miss my family and the close circle of friends who have blessedly remained close -- out of sight but not out of mind. And then there's the food. What Montreal lacks in cosmopolitanism, it makes up with gastronomic delights (especially French cuisine) in spades.

The last apartment I had in Montreal was located in an up-and-coming neighborhood, since renamed Monkland Village. I lived upstairs from an SAQ shop (the Quebec version of the Ontario LCBO), St. Viateur (maker of Montreal's best and IMO the world's best bagels), and a tiny but excellent fishmonger.

There were the obligatory Second Cup and Starbucks shops across the street, but far more alluring were the French bakery/cafes: Première Moisson, Au Pain Doré, La Pâtisserie de Nancy. Java U and Benedict's were also local staples as well as a perpetually revolving selection of restaurants that came and went over the years (including the legendary Fran's cafe bistro, which made the city's best cakes until it closed after the owner retired, or so I heard). In the years since I left town, it has further augmented its gustatory selection, including a dazzling kitchen supply store, an adorable cupcake shop, and a gourmet butcher shop.

On summer days, I could smell fresh batches of bagels baking in the wood-burning ovens of St. Viateur. I would use those olfactory cues to run downstairs to buy a dozen bagels that were still warm and at their peak of deliciousness. Weekend mornings had to begin with a visit to Pâtisserie de Nancy, which served the finest croissants I have ever had to date. They are light yet buttery, with a flaky golden exterior and a fluffy and chewy interior. Accompanied by a bowl of cafe au lait, it was the perfect breakfast.

All these provisions were a hop-skip-and-jump away from home. Toronto has amazing bakers, butchers, fishmongers, grocers, etc. but they are dispersed so very far apart that it requires some planning and significant travel time to access.

My most recent visit to Montreal fulfilled a long-standing wish: dinner at Au Pied de Cochon. My parents made this dream come true on the occasion of my birthday (Thanks Mom & Dad!). Au Pied is the brainchild of chef Martin Picard, known to many as the star of The Food Network's The Wild Chef.

I've sung the praises of nose-to-tail eating before. This was my opportunity to open my mind and palate to dishes that are truly unfamiliar or inaccessible to me, namely the use of offal like head cheese (which is not cheese at all, but meat from an animal's head), pig's trotters and ears, blood sausage and foie gras.

The first thing that struck me when we walked into the venue was the smell of roasting meat and maple syrup. I don't mean the stink of artificial maple flavoring -- lately, someone in the office has been bringing in a snack that overwhelms the recycled high rise oxygen with a sickening odor of synthetic maple. No, this was the soothing fragrance of a sugar shack in the woods that has begun the annual process of boiling maple tree sap. It made my appetite soar.

For my starter, I ordered the Head Cheese Fritters (pictured at the top). I was expecting the meat to be tough but it was tender and also flavorful like roasted ham. The shredded meat was shaped into cubes, battered and fried. Enhancing the taste was the exquisite sauce -- it had a wonderful mustard kick from capers, and benefited from fresh herbs and what I believe was a Hollandaise sauce.

I chose the Cured Foie Gras and Boudin Tart for my main. From what I understand, the foie gras was salt-cured. Boudin is a blood sausage. The tart crust was a flaky puff pastry. There was a layer of creamy sauce, topped with caramelized onions, thin slices of potato, along with beautifully cooked Boudin and the superbly delicate foie gras rounds.

The portions were massive -- big enough to feed two or possibly three people. I could barely eat half of my tart. It goes without saying that I asked the affable waiter to doggie bag my leftovers. Even the next day it was mind-blowingly good.

My only regret was that I couldn't sample more. Next time I visit, I plan to order an array of starters and appetizers in order to taste as many things as I possibly can.

I haven't had much of an appetite to eat or cook since coming back (hence the dearth of blog posts this month). One might say that my appetite is still in Montreal, where it wants to be.