brunch at the sparrow

fuchsia brunch

I love lazy Saturdays in Montreal. There are so many chilled out, awesome spots where you can just zone out and enjoy good company.

my best friend's chai latte

So many of the people I love live nowhere near me, so I consider myself extremely lucky to have one of my favourite people in the world living only 2 hours away.

During our minimum once-a-month visits, we collect all the shards of moments that have broken away and gone unnoticed, and remind each other why all the pieces matter.

The steam from our hot drinks rise up during the coldest days of winter, and our comfortable conversation warms the parts of my personality that I leave cold for so many others.

It's the quiet moments - in between the plans - that I have come to value most.

turkish delight cupcakes

I made these last weekend for my friend Farah's 30th birthday sleepover party. They were by far the best (baked) recipe I've tried. Very rich, very fabulous. Don't go crazy adding water to the icing, however. I got carried away and made it way too runny (see photo above).

Turkish Delight Cupcakes
From Cupcakes: A Fine Selection of Sweet Treats

Ingredients
185g unsalted butter, softened
1.5 cups sugar
1.5 cups self-rising flour
.5 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup cocoa powder
.5 cup milk
3 Big Turk bars, chopped (or about 6 squares of rose-flavoured Turkish delight 4-6 squares of semi-sweet chocolate, chopped)

Rosewater icing
2 cups icing sugar
1 tbs rosewater
2 drops pink food colouring
Turkish delight (not chocolate coated) for topping

Preheat oven to 350 F. Line muffin tins with paper cases.

Beat butter and sugar with electric beaters until light and creamy. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Sift the flours and cocoa together and fold in alternatively with the milk. Stir through the Big Turk (or Turkish delight/chocolate). Fill muffin cups approx 2/3 full. Bake for approx 25 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean. Transfer to a wire rack to cool

To make the rosewater icing, place the icing sugar in a large bowl. Add the rosewater and 1.5 tablespoons of boiling water ans stir until smooth (add a little more water if necessary to make a pouring consistency). Add the food colouring and stir until well combined. Spread the icing over each cake, then decorate with pieces of Turkish delight.

up! magazine feature: amy millan at liverpool house

Back in September, I spent a fantastic evening at Montreal's Liverpool House with friend and writer Sarah Lolley and singer/guitarist Amy Millan. The feature is now published in up! Magazine.

Additional photos in the online version:
Singer Amy Millan shares why Montreal's Liverpool House is her favourite spot in the city

macarons

Have you ever tried a macaron? They're feathery light cookies: satiny smooth and crispy on the outside, moist and chewy within, with a hint of smooth filling in the centre. They come in a spectrum of pastel shades, and an amazing array of flavour combinations.

Until living in Montreal, I'd never had the chance to feast on one of these cookie gems.Here, you can spot them basking in bakery windows, in all their pastel-coloured glory. Once the aroma of vanilla and toasted almonds wafts out the bakery door reaches out to you, you'll be following your nose to where food ectasy marks the spot.

The first time I tasted them, it was at Boutique Point G on Avenue Mont Royal. I had been marveling at a model of the Eiffel tower that has been formed out of their smooth surfaces. Macarons. Delicious, decadent, and delicate.

I walked into the patisserie-café under the premise of taking a closer look at the presumably tasty, brightly coloured tower, and was greeted by the head pastry chef himself. “Did you see the tower?” he asks. I nod, while staring at the glass case that displays Point G's macarons like jewels.

"It is made of our newest flavours: coconut with salted caramel, pistachio, and crème brulée.”

Within 30 seconds I was back out on the street again, now clutching a paper bag of the aforementioned cookies. I gingerly lifted one out of the bag and took a bite. Right inside crunchy outermost shell, the airy centre is gently scented with coconut, and sandwiched in between the two layers is an amazing caramel coulis that achieves the perfect balance of salt and sugar.

Sweet, sugary bliss.

So again, have you tried macarons? If so, what flavours have you tasted?

spring awakening

All the stuff that's springing up around the city is planting all sorts of ideas in my mind. It's that time of year again (the weeks approaching my birthday) where I assign myself the annoying yet important task of evaluating what I've done with myself over the last year, and what I want for the year to come.

But right now what I want is to curl up with some cheesy fiction and a big glass of peach-orange juice, and forget about all that business for a few hours.

best. icing. ever.

Make your favourite buttercream (butter, cream, icing sugar) and fold in some melted, unsweetened chocolate. It's a kind of ganache, except you sweeten the icing and let the dark chocolate work its wonders.

inspiration: katrina markoff

Have you ever come across someone - whether in person or via some other medium - that makes you want to work your ass off to try to accomplish even a fraction of what she has?

For me, that person is Katrina Markoff. I first heard about her 2 summers ago when my great aunt Joyce brought boxes full of Vosges chocolates to our family reunion.

Vosges is an "Haut-chocolate" company that Markoff founded after she graduated from Le Cordon Bleu, apprenticed under Ferran Adrià (one of the world's most famous chefs) and travelled the world. Her creations feature spices, flowers and other exotic ingredients (hello, bacon) from all over the world. She invents every recipe herself in Vosges' Chicago headquarters.

To summarize: this lady travels the world looking for flavour inspiration, then blends her discoveries into exquisite chocolaty concoctions. Pretty much the best job on earth.

Since my job places me in the food/lifestyle realm of the interweb, I often come across references to her chocolates. In this video, she explains her brainstorming process:



And, while on Design Sponge a few weeks ago, I was admiring photos of rooms decorated the way I would decorate if I had money. Intrigued, I scrolled back up to see the owner, and it was none other than Markoff. Small world? Or, is it that once we find something that inspires us, it keeps popping up in different forms everywhere. Why is that?

More importantly, how does one become one of the 26 most fascinating entrepreneurs by one's early thirties?

Photo credit: Design Sponge

my new favourite vegetable

"What's with the alien embryo on the counter?"

I looked up from cooking onions in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Then I glanced over at the bulbous, gnarled sphere sitting to my left and understood what he was referring to. "Oh, you mean the best winter vegetable ever?"

"What is that?"

"That...is a celery root. You ate it last week and loved it, remember?"

"Well I never knew it looked like...like that."

"It doesn't matter what it looks like; it tastes amazing!"

Celery root is, first and foremost, cheap. Secondly, when cooked properly, it tastes creamy and delicious— like the combination of potato and celery. You can cook it a lot of ways, basically any way that you would cook a potato. Last week I steamed big cubes of it then tossed it in olive oil, lemon juice and zest, fresh parsley, salt and pepper. This week I threw some into a creamy winter soup.

Start by buying one of these:

image courtesy of sallys-place.com

Then make the base of your cream soup in the way you like. I make a roux in one pot while carmelizing onions and red peppers in a pan with some herbs and spices. At the same time, I steam the chopped-up celery root.

Once I turn the roux into a bechamel sauce, I keep adding milk until it becomes the base of the soup. Once its simmering, I pour in the onion/pepper/spice mixture and let the flavours blend. When the celery root is steamed (15 minutes-ish), I add it to the soup. I let the whole thing simmer for about 20 minutes, and then put it in a blender to smooth it out.

I garnish it with toasted walnuts and fresh grated parmesan. It's pretty awesome. Here's pic of the finished soup which I wanted to share, in spite of Brian's counsel not to ("It doesn't look exactly appetizing, more nauseating"). Basically, it's not the best photo ever, but you get the point.

Anyways, if you like cooking and want to try something outside of your vegetable comfort zone, give celery root a whirl.

fuschia

"It's just a simple flick of the wrist," said Binky, as she taught us to gingerly toss onions and sweet potatoes in a large frying pan.

As she expertly flipped and stirred, tantalizing smells rose from the pots and pans. She patiently and effectively taught us to make the 3 amazing dishes that were part of her cooking lesson. We made a pumpkin soup, black bean cakes with mango-coconut coulis, sweet potatoes and rice, and pears with ricotta, walnuts and chocolate sauce.

During the last year, Binky purchased an incredible general store that had been abandoned and left virtually untouched for decades (see photo above, which I took over a year ago). After auctioning off most of the antique remainders, she renovated it into a cozy and fabulous space that is now her restaurant, Fuchsia.

Last night, I joined a few friends as part of her first trial cooking class. She plans to start offering courses over the next few months that specifically non-vegetarians how to make meals for their veggie-loving partners. The cooks-in-training prepare their meals for 2 hours, then the lucky partners arrive at the restaurant and the couples sit down to eat together.

I'm sure Binky's new idea will be very successful. The course was one of the most fun and interesting things I have done in a long time. Fuchsia's kitchen slightly resembles an apothecary: bags of spices, cans of mango puree, bottles of rose water and lavender extract. Bowls of apple crisp (my all-time favourite food) were resting casually on a counter top, while our glasses of wine were squeezed in between chocolate sauce bottles and maize flour. There were so many awesome things in one place at one time, it was kind of overwhelming.

After we finished cooking the meal, we sat down at one of the restaurant's family-style tables and ate, and ate ... and ate.

Suffice it to say, I highly recommend Fuchsia, and its cooking courses.

it's backyard party season

This pie, which is so pretty and easy to make, is a great idea for an afternoon barbeque or a picnic in the park.

1. Bake a store bought pie shell as directed on the box.
2. For the filling, mix together 1 pkg of cream cheese with 1/4 cup of sour cream and 1/4 cup icing sugar + 1 tsp of vanilla. Optionally, you can also add 1 tsp of orange or almond extract, toasted slivered almonds, and/or cinnamon. Whip filling until light and fluffy, then spoon into the cooled pie shell.
3. Arrange any kind of fruit you like on top
4. (optional) If you want to glaze it, brush on melted (strained) apricot jam or marmalade with a pastry brush to glaze

Another suggestion for backyard parties? As many games as possible. At my friend's bbq last week, we had beer pong, frozen tag, relay races, hide-and-seek, and arm wrestling. With a little booze in the mix, these games become even more fun.

I'm off to the city for my cousin's wedding. Have a great weekend!

cooking up dreams

I try to picture myself walking home late at night. When an involuntary shiver runs down my spine, I know it's not the right neighbourhood for me.

After speaking to our landlord the other day, it is confirmed that we will be out of this place by the end of July. The problem is, my thesis work doesn't finish up until the end of August. So, the issue now is deciding what to do for that month of limbo.

Friday night I was at a party in St. Henri, a neighbourhood just south-west of mine. The party was at a two-storey apartment with a huge kitchen, a massive back terrace, and a spiral staircase that connected the terrace to the upper floor. I sighed, while lusting after all that counter space, picturing myself making salads* without jamming my elbows against the walls. I looked at all the wall space and thought of how many pictures I could hang. It had hardwood floors, lots of windows, and character.

All that, plus the fact that the rent is just over half of what we pay, is (almost) enough to entice me to move to that neighbourhood.

The poorly-lit walk from the metro, and the presence of men who repeatedly tried to lure other party guests into their cars, are the less attractive facets of the area.

If I were a guy, I would live there in a flash. In fact, the mass amounts of hot dog and poutine joints would really seal the deal (especially if I were a guy like Brian). But, unfortunately for just this one sense, I am female.

I resent the fact that, because I am a woman, I don't feel safe in that neighbourhood; that I feel limited as to where I should live. I wish I could just say screw it, and move there anyways. But I like being able to walk alone at night and not constantly fear for my safety. And, let's face it, some places are safer than others, especially for women.

I am making a wish list of what I want in an apartment, and safety is certainly a key factor. I just hope it doesn't come at a premium.

On another note:
*Fantastic spring salad recipe
Baby spinach
whole almonds
shaved, unsweetened coconut
feta cheese
chopped apples

Combine spinach and apples in a salad bowl. Toast almonds in a frying pan on med-high for a few minutes to intensify their flavour. Once you can smell the almonds toasting, toss the coconut into the pan for about 30 seconds until it turns golden. Add almonds and coconuts to salad bowl. Sprinkle with feta. Drizzle with dressing (below).

Dressing:
Whisk together, or shake in a jar:
Juice of half a large lime
1-2 tbs olive oil
ground pink pepper (to taste)
pinch of sea salt

to get you though the cold

This recipe, from Jamie Oliver's latest cookbook, is fantastic. Perfect for a cold winter night.

If you're feeling a bit more ambitious, try making this pecan chocolate chip pie recipe. I've made it twice now, and the trick is to undercook it slightly.

Or, if you just feel like looking at pretty pictures of food, check out the food styling blog, La Tartine Gourmande (in English and French).

Oh, and I almost forgot: Rambo stuff, as promised

Chocolat

I'm not sure who was the mastermind behind having a chocolate lover's convention in Montreal, but if I ever meet the genius, I will kiss his or her feet.

I spent last Saturday living the dream: tasting, licking, crunching and drinking chocolate in dozens of forms. I drank chocolate tea. I sipped rose petal wine with a chocolate accompianiment. I dipped fruit in chocolate. I ate chocolate pretzels. I tried an array of chocolate chips from across the globe. I tasted maple and white chocolate chips. I admired sculptures made of chocolate, and then after the dizzying sugar rush faded to a zombie-esque low, I went home and fell into a deep chocolate coma.

It was one of the best days of my life. That is all.

market day

The last week has been full of peaceful days at a slower pace, and lots of cupcakes.



View more photos of country life here.

This town is quite the place. Today, after leaving the hair salon with my new rose-gold highlights, I got whistled at by a group of baby daddies who were standing with their strollers outside Tim Hortons. I didn't know whether to feel flattered or creeped out. Either way, I guess I will pass the "compliment" along to my stylist when I return the umbrella she lent me.

free rides and treasures

This weekend, all of the buses and metro were free in Montreal. We decided to take advantage of the free rides and explore the city.

Friday night it rained very hard, but the weather consequently created a dramatic atmosphere for the On Bodies (my friend Mark's band) show, and a birthday party in a cafe-bar that had a special guest dj.

Yesterday we made it up to Jean Talon market once again, and it was even more impressive now that spring has arrived. The bright colours, frenzied shoppers and copious amounts of delicious looking food are kind of overwhelming. There is too much to choose from in terms of snacks, and of healthy, wonderful stuff to take home for the week ahead. We got black olives stuffed with goat cheese, roma tomatoes and bartlett pears. We also had fresh calamari with tartar sauce, sausages with sauerkraut, and my favourite, a banana kabob covered in dark chocolate (from a fountain) for $1.















And, in between the market and Montreal's largest Value Village, I found some really cool little treasures. The only thing we missed out on yesterday was an auction of items from a recently-renovating general store that hadn't been touched since the '50s. By the end of the weekend, I was too tired to make it up there, but some of the items were said to include toys, jewelery, old medicine in dusty glass bottles, and old posters and magazines. Damn, now I wish I'd gotten off my couch to go see all this stuff. Anyway, I may have found enough treasures for the weekend. I will just have to wait for garage sale season in farm country, when I'm home visiting my family.







Oh, and I forgot to mention that I am finished my first year of grad school!

green daze

After a week of snow, melting slush, street fires, smashed windows, and humiliating myself in class among other such events, a weekend-long St. Patrick's day celebration was certainly welcomed. Saturday/Sunday stood as the last couple of freedom-filled days before delving into all the year end madness. How is the school year already coming to an end? Seriously, what have I been doing?

Alas, St. Patrick's day was spent sipping creme de menthe with Bailey's on the rocks, and drinking convenience store beer on the streets in the snowy weather, while waiting in line at the crowded pubs, playing my Irish tin whistle for adoring fans, and bashing my knee into a parking metre while jumping to grab icicles. Sunday we dragged ourselves out to watch Montreal's famous St. Patrick's Day parade to marching bands, giant St Pats on wheels, dogs dressed in costumes, and for me to have my foot essentially puked on by a small child.

After the parade, we had some guests over, and I cooked a large "Irish" brunch of soda bread, cooked cabbage, scrambled eggs with brie, breakfast sausages, and shamrock shakes. I was full for the entire day after that spread, let me tell you.

I find it kind of ironic that my academic research entails the use of blogs for sharing human rights and world health issues, and here I am detailing my Sunday menu to you. That's something I gotta work on--you know, not being a giant hypocrite. But life is about balance, isn't it? My brain is full of school stuff by the time I come to write here, so all I have left to share is a mundane collection of thoughts and events. But that's going to change over time.

Also, it's driving me crazy that all of the funniest, juiciest things I want to share don't seem appropriate for such a public realm. You know, the best stuff that spills out like beer on a bar table (or due to it), or the legion of characters I've been meeting. However, rest assured that a tell-all book is on the way. Those of you who might think grad school is only about dusty books might be interested to hear the tales I've been observing, experiencing and collecting. I'll find a way to share, somehow.

Right now the promise of spring temperatures have me hoping wistfully that the rest of the week will seem less dismal.

you can do better than that

It is exactly 15 days into the 40 days of Lent. I am not Catholic, but I have always thought that this ritual of sacrifice is a good thing, especially during this time of the year when I am typically "mowing down" on comfort foods and hibernating.

So I've given up (all) sweets, and Brian has given up meat. Neither sacrifice is an easy feat.

After two weeks of drastically altering my diet--and I mean drastically because I normally live off pastries, chocolate bars and giant chocolate chip cookies--my body feels refreshed and somewhat thankful.

Brian is not as happy with how Lent is treating him. Even though I have been trying myself to abstain from meat so as not to make things harder for his carnivourous appetites, he insists on eating many sweets in front of me, including my heart-shaped box of Lindor chocolates that he gave me for Valentines day. He also shakes the wrappers in front of my face so I have to smell the delectable, forbidden goodness of the chocolate.

It's getting easier though. And Brian is expanding his usually meat-dominated cooking repetoire to include veggie chow mein, eggplant parmesean, and various vegetable stews. He has even agreed to try meatless meatballs.

Now when I even have a green tea latte my body goes into a crazy sugar high that hints strongly of my former dependency on all things sweet. Despite my cravings, and despite my shameful withdrawal symptoms, I feel oddly proud.

This process has made me develop a creepy habit to pass the time while I wait for buses, sit on buses, wait in lines, and work out. I constantly find myself wondering what other people have/would-have-if-they-did-this-sort-of-thing given up? This gets me wondering about other peoples' vices, and also wishing certain other people would give up certain things. For example:

1) The student who never fails to have some kind of crisis every time I am at work and spends at least 2 shifts of 15-20 minutes talking on the free phone (which is right beside me), looming over me, and asking his mom/brother/girlfriend "nellie"/group member to email/bring/do something for him that he forgot to do.
--> this guy should give up depending on others and getting in peoples' personal space.

2) The people who sit right next to me on the bus after eating a large and heavily-scented meal
--> these people should give up: onions, garlic and other noxious food items before getting on public transit.

3) The people who get on the elevator and furiously push their floor button and the close door buttons incessantly, and after every stop the elevator makes.
--> These people should give up impatience

4) Many people at the variety of art festivals I've been to lately, and certain people at the gym whose armpits always seem to be near my face.
--> these people should not give up deodorant.

I'm not normally this moody, so I'm blaming it on the sugar deprivation.

la vie boheme et bilangue

It's our last night in Montreal until the new year, and the semester came to a close with a musical finale. Tonight we went to see The Dears play a hometown show. It was fantastic. I'm sure Brian will provide more details shortly. Let's just say that any musician who ever gets songwriter's block, would find him/herself instantly cured after hearing/watching The Dears work their magic.

I spent the day at work, just me and a girl from France in the Learning Centre. We were speaking Franglais and laughing at how poorly we speak each other's language. But we were still trying to speak slowly enough to make sense of eachother. Sometimes I feel like a foreign exchange student in this newly-anointed "nation within a nation." Brian thinks he can tell francophone and anglophone people apart by their fashion sense and facial hair. Considering the fact that my sweatpants and scuffed skate shoes were glared at by the doorman at La Senza the other day, you can guess which side of the fashion sense binary we anglos fall on.

I speak French as often as I can, for the health of my mind as much as for the sake of politeness. It's good for the intellect, they say, to keep the mind working in more than one language. Seeing as I won't be in Tanzania for the next little while, my Swahili usage is on hiatus. Speaking of Tz, I want to thank everyone for the contributions they have mailed me, or have given me in person. I'll be sending them off to Sikitu very soon, and your generosity will be very much appreciated.

So, first term has come to an end. In the last 2 weeks I've written more than I did all of last year, I'm sure of it. While my mind has hovered dangerously close to short-circuting, and my muscles are turning to mush, it's been swell. Instead of doing the usual semi-comatose couch lazing thing over the break, I'm looking forward to brisk walks and winter activities...if it ever snows, that is.

I was sitting in an Irish pub last night, drinking with my classmates after finishing my LAST paper. After a few hours, a man wearing a red coat gave me "the gun" and said "Good luck with that," only to disappear mysteriously out the door. Two minutes later the server brought a round of drinks over to our table, compliments of mystery man. How did Santa know another pint of cider was my pre-Christmas wish of the moment?

Maybe it's the vampire novel I'm reading, but lately I've been becoming aware of the nocturnal underworld of all sorts of characters that lurk in doorways, alleyways and local dives. I keep overhearing creepy conversations, see people sic their dogs on other people, and shake my head to turn down street drugs. Our neighbourhood lies just on the outskirts of the posh shopping district. Not long after passing Holt Renfrew, Ogilvy and Betsey Johnson, and before reaching the rich, English neigbourhood of Westmount, you pass through our area. It's a seedy couple of blocks, with places like Club Octopussy and Sexe Cite, and freestylying bilingual vagabonds, and old men yell at eachother over who is the bigger crackheads.

Last night a strange man yelled to my friend and I that we needn't worry about finding a cab, cause he had a limo for all the ladies, yo! Tonight a drunk guy tried to mug me. It was the worst mugging attempt I've ever seen. I laughed in his face, Brian stood there and watched, we asked him if the Habs had won the game, and we went on our way. As we left, his friend yelled after me that he loved my glasses. It's moments like these, my friends, that make memories.

I'm off to Toronto tomorrow, for a few days with the girls, before heading home. I am going to miss the food around here, especially the holy trinity of Montreal cuisine: bagels, smoked meat, and poutine. And now, before I sign off, a few pre-holiday food recommendations.

Source Cherry Chocolate Fondue Yogurt
Mojito chicken
Calabaza soup

And, my newest creation: Carmelized brussel sprouts au gratin

Ingredients:
20 or so fresh brussel sprouts
2 tbs olive oil
1-2 tbs milk or cream
small amount of green onions, chopped
1/4 cup crackers or breadcrumbs
1/2 tsp salt
pepper to taste

Method: Cut the bottoms off of the brussel sprouts, and slice an "x" into the base. This helps them cook better. Boil or steam brussel sprouts for approximately 15 minutes or until halfway cooked. Drain sprouts, and transfer into baking pan. Drizzle with olive oil, and milk/cream. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Toss to ensure that the sprouts are coated in the oil and cream. Sprinkle breadcrumbs or cracker crumbs over top. Bake at 350 degrees for 1/2 or so, or until carmelized to your liking.

More food recipes to come during the holidays.