A couple years ago I started to pay a lot more attention to the food that we were consuming, nutritionally as well as ethically. It has become more important to me to know where our food comes from, how it was grown and harvested/butchered and what impact our consumption will have on the greater juggernaut of food production. Although I’m not by any means a frothing and unyielding locavore, I do feel like we have a responsibility to ourselves and our community (locally and globally) to make the best choices possible, within the boundaries of our individual circumstances and personal values.

After a fair bit of conversation, we decided that we were ready to take the next step and get a little bit closer to the farm by purchasing the meat directly from the farmer. During the course of my research to find the right farm and animal, I came across Janet and Henry Ellenberger and their organic farm. I was instantly smitten. Maybe it was the pictures of their beautiful highland horses, or maybe it was their unfaltering commitment to the land and forgotten produce like seed potatoes, but I knew that this was the farm from which we would order our cow.

Half a cow, even a “skinny” grass fed cow like ours, yields quite a bit of meat. We split our half with another couple and we will still have plenty of beef to carry us through until the fall. The most fun we had during this experience, however, was ordering the butchery to specification. Choosing how many pounds of stew beef to ground beef, how thick would the steaks be, how heavy the roasts, oh, it was glorious! And, as you could expect, under the “additional comments” section I specified that I wanted the bones and organs as well. There was no way that we were ordering up a half a cow without getting the offal!

If you have never tasted beef heart before, well, you’re in for a treat! Unlike liver or kidney, the heart doesn’t have that ferrous, forceful “organ” taste that some people find to be off-putting.  This is a hard working muscle so it tends to be quite lean but it’s a wonderfully concentrated source of nutrients. It is full of Vitamin A and B12, folic acid, iron (obvs, right?), but also selenium, phosphorous, zinc and copper. Did we mention Coenzyme Q10 and collagen? I don’t have a lot of in-depth knowledge on the science of nutrition, but I know that those are both key inclusions in my favourite face creams, so I’m just going to go ahead and tell myself that eating heart will make you pretty. Yes. This completely unscientific and oversimplified theory, brought to you by the Choosy Beggars! 

Cooking beef heart doesn’t need to be daunting. Because it is so lean, you can use the same rule of thumb that you would for any other tight muscle; grill/sear it lightly and quickly, or give it a long, slow braise to tenderize it. This may be late March, but in Ontario the air is still well below freezing and there are snow flurries happening outside right now as I’m typing this, so a braise just made sense.

Grass fed beef likes a slightly lower temperature and longer cooking time than conventional beef, but if you treat it like the tough beef or lamb stew meat that would normally be used for this type of tagine, you will be rewarded with fabulous flavour.

Beef Heart Tagine

serves 4-6 over your choice of starch

• 1 grass fed beef heart (~ 1.5 kg/5-6 lb) *
• 2 tbsp spice blend (recipe follows) **
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• 2 medium onions
• 5 plump cloves garlic
• chubby 2″ chunk ginger
• 3 tbsp tomato paste
• 10 dates
• 2 tbsp honey
• 1.5 cups water
• salt, to taste
  
• 2 tbsp chopped cilantro, optional

Spice blend:

• 2 pods black cardamom
• 2 cinnamon sticks
• 1 tsp black peppercorn
• 1/2 tsp coriander seeds
• 2 bay leaves
• 3/4 tsp allspice berries
• 1/2 tsp anise seed
• 1/2 tsp cloves

* You could substitute stewing beef or lamb for the heart.

* If you don’t have the spices on hand to make the spice blend, and you don’t feel like buying 8 little baggies for one dish, you can instead use 2 tablespoons of the Moroccan spice blend Ras el Hanout. Any additional spice blend (or Ras el Hanout) is great rubbed into chicken, beef or lamb before it hits the grill, stirred into curries or sprinkled in to give an extra curry-like kick to sweet potatoes, butternut squash or fried chickpeas.

Put all of the spices into a spice grinder and then whizz them up until you have a fine powder.You could crumble the bay leaves and pound the rest of the ingredients in a mortar and pestle if you had no other alternative, but if you can save your ward off the carpal tunnel syndrome

The real work when you are handling a heart is all about breaking it down. You want to remove all of the sinew, silverskin, fat and…grossness. It sounds daunting, and if you’re like me you may wonder how you’ll know what to remove and what to save, but a good rule of thumb is that if it doesn’t look appetizing, get rid of it. The heart is a powerful muscle, and at the end of the day, all that you want is that super lean muscle tissue.

I am a terrible butcher, so please be patient with me. If you want an expert tutorial on how to break down a heart, see this video from the Emperor of Entrails, Chef Chris Cosentino.

If you want to stumble along with me, well, here goes. Start by opening the heart. If you’re wondering about the colour, this particular heart was thawed from frozen and then waited in my fridge for almost 48 hours, so there was a bit of oxidation to the outside.

Break the heart down into 3-4 manageable pieces to make it easier to trim. Try to follow the natural lines of the meat.

Using your sharpest knife, remove any visible fat and silverskin from the exterior of the heart. As you’re slicing it away, try not to lose too much of the muscle matter.

Flip the piece over and witness the horrors within. It looks tubey, tangled, slightly gelatinous and not at all appealing. Slice that all off to expose the muscle.

When you are all finished, you should have several pieces of pure muscle, ready to be cut into cubes. Even with my clumsy butchering, the 1.5 kg heart yielded just over 1 kg of cleaned meat.

Chop the meat into bite sized cubes that are roughly uniform, or as close as possible. Season the meat generously with salt and one (1) tablespoon of the spice mix. Set this aside at room temperature for half an hour so that the flavours can begin to permeate the meat.

In the mean time, peel the onion and cut it in half, lengthwise, and then slice across into 1/4″ crescents. Spread the onion along the bottom of a dry medium/large tagine or a medium Dutch oven that has been lightly misted with oil.

Peel the other onion and finely dice it. Peel the garlic and ginger and mince both. Set these aside for a moment.

In a large, heavy bottomed pan, heat up the two (2) tablespoons of oil over high heat. When the oil is shimmering but has not yet started to smoke, brown the meat in batches. Let it really sear and get some nice caramelization before turning the pieces. After all of the meat is browned on the outside (but not cooked through), set it aside.

Turn the heat down to medium low. If the pan looks too dry, add an extra tablespoon of oil.

Add the onions, garlic and ginger and saute until the onions are translucent and the pan is quite fragrant.

Sprinkle on the remaining one (1) tablespoon of spice blend.

You want to cook off the raw flavour of the spices, so let this go for at least 2-3 minutes. The mixture will look really dry. Stir in the tomato paste and let this cook for another minute or two to get rid of the raw tomato taste.

Slowly pour in the water, stirring vigorously and scraping up all the browned bits of fond that were stuck to the bottom of the pan.

Stir in the honey and season the mixture lightly with salt.  Let this simmer until it thickens slightly, like a brown gravy.

Lay the meat on top of the onion in the tagine.

Pit the dates and quarter each one. Sprinkle the date chunks in with the beef and the smother the lot with the aromatic gravy.

Put a lid on the tagine and set the dish into the centre of a 300ºF oven for 3-4 hours, checking the tagine after 2 hours to give it a stir, and then around every 45 – 60 minutes after that to stir and check for tenderness.

Note: depending on the size of your tagine dish, if it looks to be so full that you might risk it bubbling over, put a sheet pan underneath to catch any drips as it bakes. 

Give the tagine one last stir, taste it and adjust the seasoning if need be. This dish does need salt for the spices to really pop, so don’t be too shy with the shaker.

Garnish the tagine with freshly chopped cilantro immediately before serving.

Serve the heady, sweet and fragrant tagine over couscous to sop up all those juices, with some nice bright vegetable salads on the side.

If you have eaten braised heart before, you will know how tender and succulent this dish is just from looking at it. But if this is your first time venturing into the world of organ meat, please, don’t be afraid. Heart is the perfect place to start.

For the days when a quick exit is required but I still need sustenance that is grab-and-go, I like to have a batch of something home baked, nourishing and nutrient dense on hand. That used to mean an epically huge batch of crumbly peanut butter and fruit granola bars, protein rich quinoa and coconut bars, or powerhouse raisin and oatmeal (and chickpea and duplicity) breakfast cookies. However, sometimes I want something that’s just simple and hearty on hand, and that’s when I make classic oat bars.

These oatmeal treats are not a thick and cakey or crumbly baked oatmeal (like all the delicious looking recipes for baked oatmeal that are so prevalent on the interwebs right now, and each of which I want to eat right now), but really more of a classic oat formed oat cake. In fact, the flavour and texture are quite similar to one of my husband’s favourites, the Starbuck’s Oat Bar.  So much so that when he first tried them he exclaimed, “Oh, you were trying to make a copy cat of the Starbucks bar?”

Nope. Not quite. However, since that’s roughly how they taste, I might as well just go with it.

As a huge fan of any kind of scandal, I quickly dubbed these the “Dumb Starbucks” oat bars; they are as close as I can come to a copy in good conscience. The main differences are;

1. They are thinner and smaller. A lot smaller. You don’t want to have a Starbucks’ size portion of these and you won’t need one.

2. They aren’t quite as sweet. You will take these for breakfast, not dessert, if you know what I mean.

3. You can make the whole batch for the price of one regular Starbucks Oat Bar.

Choosy Beggars’ Oat Bars

Makes 16 smallish squares

• 4 cups quick cooking oats, divided in half
• 3/4 tsp cinnamon
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 1/2 cup coconut oil, melted *
• 1/3 cup water
• 1/4 cup plain yogurt
• 1/4 cup honey
• 1 tsp vanilla

* I sometimes cook with coconut oil because I like the flavour, and truthfully because it’s so super-trendy that I peer-pressured myself into going there. However, if you prefer, feel free to use soft (not melted) unsalted butter and work it into the ground oats by hand until it feels crumbly.

Preheat your oven to 350°F and grease an 8×8 square baking pan.

Add half of the oats (2 cups) to a food processor along with the cinnamon and salt. Whizz until they look ground, like a coarse oat flour.

Drizzle in the coconut oil, water, yogurt, honey and vanilla.

Process the mixture until it is evenly combined.

Add the remaining (2 cups) oats and pulse several times, just until the mixture is combined — do not over blend. Alternatively, you could stir these in by hand so that the oats completely retain their size and texture, but who wants to dirty up another bowl?

Press the oat mixture firmly into the greased baking pan. Smooth out the top as much as possible and make sure that the thickness is as uniform as possible. I like to do this by pressing down with another 8×8 pan and then smoothing the top edges with water-moistened hands.

Bake the squares in the center of your preheated oven for 17-20 minutes, or just until the edges are golden brown.

Let the pan cool completely before cutting into squares using a sharp knife.

The squares are not too sweet and although they’re tender they are also densely satisfying, which is why one square, an apple and a yogurt cup might be the perfect breakfast or hearty afternoon snack.

These are also a great snack to have around for those times when you have to bolt without a meal and you know that you’re going to be eating in the car with one hand, or stuffing two bites worth of nourishment into your mouth between meetings. And you know what? They do the trick. So, just like the clever pop-up, maybe these aren’t so dumb after all, and

When I go to work, every day I pack about six Tupperware containers into my bag. There are usually two for breakfast, one for my morning snack, a container or two for lunch, my afternoon snack, my emergency snack….You guys, I really like my healthy snacks.

The thing is, when the clock approaches 3pm and I’m in imminent danger of turning into a howling werewolf, perfectly cubed honeydew melon just does not cut it. And hey, helpful Spark People, neither does A GODDAMNED APPLE. You know what I don’t need? To eat my snack and then consider whether or not I might gnaw my way through my office furniture before the day is done.

Enter protein. Ah, delicious protein. I tend to make a lot of bean dips (as you may have noticed from the archives), which are full of protein, fiber and flavor to keep me satisfied in both body and spirit. My daughter loves hummus with all the ardour of a toddler who is 1/4 Lebanese, so that tends to be my go-to, but once in a while I need something that is more of a treat, and which can be eaten with fruit as well as with vegetables. I used to make a quick dip with peanut butter, honey and Greek yogurt, but since my current workplace is vehemently peanut-free, I’ve been experimenting with peanut butter substitutes instead, like Sunbutter. This dip is perfect to pack for lunches at your kids’ school, or anywhere else that is peanut- and treenut-free.

Sunbutter Protein Dip

serves 8; keeps well in the fridge, sealed, for about a week

• 1 can (14 oz) navy beans *
• 1/2 cup Sunbutter **
• 3 tbsp honey
• 3 tbsp fat free Greek yogurt
• 3/4 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
• 1/8 tsp sesame oil
• salt, to taste

* Navy beans have a delicate and not-so-beany flavour and liquefy into a fairly thin and somewhat fluid puree. If you prefer, you can use white kidney beans or Cannellini. Chickpeas and Great Northern beans are perfectly acceptable but you will want to puree them well to avoid any graininess and add a bit of water to thin out the texture which can be firm.

** Sunbutter is made of ground sunflower seeds (with a few additives) and is a great substitute for peanut butter if you are looking for something hypoallergenic. If you prefer, your favourite nut  butter can be used instead. Almond butter works particularly well here.

Rinse the beans under cold running water and drain them well.

Add all ingredients to a food processor and puree until smooth. Many canned beans have a moderate to high sodium content already and you are unlikely to need any additional salt, but by all means, season to taste if you feel the yen.

With a base of heart healthy white beans and a dollop of fat-free Greek yogurt, this dip packs a protein punch when you need it the most. With a little bit of sweet cinnamon and a dash of sesame oil to pull through the toasty flavour, this is the perfect love child of hummus and cinnamon butter. I tend to stick to my favourite dippers, celery and apple slices, but pretzel sticks or carrots would be equally welcome.

When the clock is ticking endlessly away, I suggest reaching for the protein if you want to power through. Because, hey, nobody likes the hangry guy in the cubicle next door.

This is the season for warm, earthy flavours and winter herbs like sage. It may still be October, but we’ve already had our first light snow of the year (how depressing is that??!) and it has me craving heartier fall fare. Is there anything that is more evocative of the fall than squash? Or even better, caramelized squash? In the same way that “burnt ends” are the best part of a brisket, and crème brulée needs the flamed sugar to be worthwhile, caramelization is a flavour enhancer that makes almost everything just a little bit better, but particularly delicately sweet squash.

This harvest salad is a little bit sweet, a little bit bright, and just about perfect on the side of a roast pork or turkey. The dressing has a hint of maple and a mellow roasted garlic flavour, and between the rich toasty pine nuts and verdant parsley and sage, it’s a little bit of delicious comfort on a cold and blustery day.

Orzo with Caramelized Squash, Sage and Pignoli

Serves ~6 as a side dish

• 1 Butternut squash (2-2.5 lb)
• 4 large cloves garlic, skin on
• 5 tbsp olive oil, divided
• 1.5 cups Orzo*
• 1/2 small red onion (~1/2 cup minced)
• 3.5 oz (100g) pignoli **
• small handful parsley (1/4 cup chopped)
• few sprigs sage (1.5 tbsp chopped)
• 1 tbsp maple syrup
• 1 tbsp Dijon mustard
• 1.5 tbsp apple cider vinegar
• salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

* If you don’t have orzo, you could use another very small pasta, such as Israeli couscous. Or, for that matter, regular couscous or your favourite bland grain – cooked appropriately – would be a perfectly adequate substitute.

** Remember, folks: it’s just a fancy name for “pine nut”.

Preheat your oven to 400°F with your rack in the center or lower third.

Start by toasting the pine nuts in a dry pan, set over medium heat, until they are browned and fragrant. Please do this before starting any other task, and do keep an eye on the frisky little buggers, because pine nuts like nothing more than to self-immolate and if you turn your back for a second you will have a pan full of char. I speak from tragic and extensive experience.

Peel the squash and scoop out the seeds and innards. Clean off the seeds and roast them if you like, but they aren’t needed for this recipe.

Chop the squash into a moderately large dice of about 1/3 – 1/2″, making sure to make the pieces as uniform in size as possible.

Toss the squash with three (3) tablespoons of olive oil and season with salt and freshly ground pepper. Spread the squash in a single layer on a baking sheet and nestle the whole unpeeled garlic cloves on the tray.

Roast the squash for 15 minutes. Flip the pieces and give the pans a shake, then return the squash to your oven to roast for another 10-15 minutes, or until the pieces are tender and darkly caramelized in spots. Set the squash aside to cool slightly.

While the squash roasts,  put a large pot of prodigiously salted water on high heat until it comes to a rolling boil.

Squeeze the cloves of garlic, which are now delicious roasted garlic, into a small bowl and mash them into a paste with the mustard.

Pour in the maple syrup, cider vinegar and remaining olive oil. Season lightly with salt and whisk until the dressing is combined.

Now then, for the orzo! Cook the orzo in your pot of salted, boiling water for about 8 minutes, or until it is tender and cooked to your desired doneness. Drain the orzo when it is cooked but do not rinse the pasta under cold water.  Toss the orzo with the dressing.

Finely mince the red onion. Really, do this as finely as possible please, because very few people like big chunks of assertive palate-decimating onion in their dinner. I find the easiest way to do this is to score the onion for a regular dice and then just slice crosswise as thinly as possible, somewhere around a scant 1/16″.

Give a rough chop to the parsley. Roll the sage leaves up into a log and then thinly slice (chiffonade) to make little sage streamers. Add these ingredients to the salad, along with the squash and half (1/2) of the pine nuts. Toss until everything is mixed evenly.

Sprinkle the remaining pine nuts on top for decoration immediately before serving the salad.

This dish is perfect served warm as a side dish, but it is also just as good at room temperature if you’re planning a buffet or pot luck.

Let’s celebrate autumn, one dish at a time!

One of the types of posts that I have always enjoyed the most on this site are about technique. I love sharing a foolproof method for getting things just right in what can sometimes be a challenging dish, because as a home cook there is nothing better than that feeling that you’re the Kitchen Champion with a perfectly fluffed souffle, a perfectly rare lamb chop, or in this case, a perfectly succulent side of salmon. The perennial dinner party favourite, when a side of salmon is done well it is sublime. However, it is all to easy to have a salmon that is dry and dense, under or unevenly cooked. Popsie and I are going to help you fix that problem, because I swear this technique has never failed me.

To warn you, this might seem a little bit retro. It is, and that’s okay. To me, retro means classic (unless we’re talking about anything involving condensed celery soup, which is an abomination). Warning number two is that one of the secrets to this dish is – eep! – mayonnaise!!!! Yes, that’s right. One of my kitchen nemeses that I usually only stock for emergency BLT sandwiches and crab cakes; we’re about to use it on fish and yet I persist in telling you that it’s awesome. Because it is.

I generally live in fear of goopy “secret sauce” and creamy Caesar dressing, and anything beyond a quarter cup of mayonnaise in a vat of potato salad will have me running for the hills. I’ve just always been that way. (Butter? No problem. Cheese? Sign me up. I like to think of my glaring double standards as a quixotic little personality quirk). Needless to say, when I saw my girlfriend unwrap a glorious side of richly hued sockeye salmon and then proceed to smear it with Heart Attack Helper, I was aghast. “Oh,” she said, “I know what you’re thinking, but trust me — it’s really good.” I find it difficult to trust when the White Bandit is involved. As a dutifully polite guest, I kept (most of) my cynicism to myself, and thank goodness that I did because the salmon was, indeed, delicious. The fish was luscious and moist without having a greasy or fatty mouth-feel from the mayonnaise. It also lacked that characteristic tangy mayo flavour that I so ardently avoid.

I can’t say that I entirely warmed to the idea of fish smeared with Artery’s Abomination, but I was able to suspend my disbelief for long enough to try the same technique at home. And then to do it again, and again, and again.

Maybe you have had salmon coated in mayonnaise before, and you’re thinking to yourself, “Really Tina? Seriously? Because it was NOT delicious.” I understand and, frankly, if there was a thick layer of goopy Devil’s Cream on the salmon I probably wouldn’t have eaten it either. The first trick is to spread the mayonnaise thinly so that it almost melts into the fish as it broils. The second trick is to broil it low, at the bottom of the oven, instead of at the top which is what you’re probably used to. In this way, the mayonnaise will start to bubble and brown in certain areas while the ambient indirect heat in the oven slows the cooking of the fillet and ensures that the meat bakes evenly while the top gets a wee bit toasty.

Perfect Broiled Salmon Serves 4-6

• 1 whole side of salmon (~2.5 to 3 lb), skin on
• 2 tbsp mayonnaise
• 1.5 tsp smoked paprika *
• kosher salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

* Smoked paprika lends a simple earthy, fireside flavour and attractive colour. However, if you don’t have smoked paprika, you could use regular sweet or hot paprika (NOT cayenne), a little bit of yellow or red curry powder, creole seasoning, or…well, the list goes on, but those are the ones that I have used so far. Although each had their own unique flavour, they were all a delicious (if occasionally spicy) match for the salmon.

Turn your oven on to broil and set your rack in the very lowest possible position, as far away from the broiler as possible.

Lightly spray or oil a baking sheet and lay the salmon on top, skin side down. Stroke your salmon to feel for any pins or small bones. If you feel any, remove them with tweezers.

Season the fish well with salt and freshly ground pepper.

Dollop the mayonnaise on top and spread it in a thin layer all over the flesh of the salmon. You’ve heard of Frosted Flakes? Well, this is Frosted Fish. Sprinkle the smoked paprika (or your spice of choice) evenly over the fish.

Tuck that baking sheet into the lowest part of your oven and let it “broil” for 10 minutes. If you like, serve the fish with lemon slices at the table.

If your oven runs exceptionally cold (or you have a dilapidated broiler) or you like your salmon really well done, you may want to give the fish another minute, or two at the very most, but probably not. I wasn’t kidding when I said that this was one of my favourite techniques, and 10 minutes have fared equally well in a spanky new gas powered oven, my one-day-we-will-afford-an-upgrade POS electric oven, the ancient oven up at my parent’s cottage, and even a toaster oven one time in a pinch.

The fish is done when it is opaque throughout with a deep blush in the centre, it flakes easily and the top is slightly browned and broiled.

When I want a maximum flavour and minimum fuss kind of dinner for friends, this is the technique that I turn to. When I’m having 8 people over for brunch and I need an easy and always popular protein, this is what I serve. When I’m in a rush and I have 20 minutes to get dinner on the table, this is still the technique that I prefer. I turn the oven on to broil and, as it heats up, I have time to boil baby potatoes for a lightly dressed spud salad with capers and quick pickled radish. After the fish goes in, there is exactly enough time to steam a basket of green beans and dress them simply with lemon. And there you go; an elegant and balanced meal in a flash.

I’m certainly grateful to Popsie for this technique, and I promise that if you give it a shot you will be equally surprised and delighted. (I’m telling you, Popsie knows his fish!) It really only takes about 10 minutes to make perfect salmon, which is perfectly easy.

It was at a friend’s baby shower, about four years ago, when I first had a similar spinach square. The hostess announced with pride that her signature appetizer was about to come out of the oven, and half the people in the room started to froth with anticipation. Naturally, I was curious. And hungry. With pomp and a flourish, she lay a large tray of her cheesy spinach squares on the table and I was…underwhelmed. Spinach squares are not the most attractive looking appetizer, and there were A LOT of them; far more than the 20 or so of us could possibly be expected to eat. The best that I could think of to say was, “Those sure do look….green.”

Then I tasted one.

Let me tell you, this girl knew from spinach squares. I ate about half a dozen and would have gone back for more if dignity hadn’t prevailed. Our pack of party goers managed to polish off the entire tray before the last onesie was unwrapped.

Before I left, I cornered the hostess and tried to wheedle the recipe out of her. The original recipe had come from a magazine (Canadian Living? Today’s Parent? Even she couldn’t remember) but she had made these squares so many times that she was just going by rote. She did her best to share the knowledge, but all that I remembered when I left was, “You take frozen spinach and finely chopped onion and then you beat some eggs…you add flour and milk and then about a pound of cheese…bake it until it’s browned.”

Cheesy Spinach Squares

Makes appx 1 dozen *

• 3 eggs
• 1 small clove garlic (or 1/2 large clove)
• 1 tbsp dried dill
• 1/3 cup milk
• 1/4 cup flour
• 100 g old cheddar (appx 1 cup grated) **
• 50 g Asiago (appx 1/2 cup grated) **
• 1 package frozen chopped spinach
• 1/4 cup finely minced onion, optional
• salt, to taste

* I frequently double the recipe and instead of making a flatter square in a loaf pan, I make a fatter square in an 8×8 square baking pan. If you do this, increase your cooking time by about 10 minutes.

Preheat your oven to 350ºF. Generously butter about halfway up the sides of a loaf pan.

Crack your eggs into a medium to large mixing bowl. Use a garlic press or a grate to puree the garlic before adding it to the eggs along with the dried dill. Pour in the milk before whisking to combine.

Add the flour to the wet ingredients and whisk ONLY until the flour is mostly incorporated. It will still be a bit lumpy, but that’s totally fine.

Grate the cheese and add it to the bowl.

Squeeze as much water out of that spinach as you possibly can. Really wring it dry. Add the spinach to the cheese and egg mixture, and mix with a spoon (or, let’s be honest, a clean hand is far more efficient) until everything is well dispersed. Add a heavy pinch of salt (around 1/2 tsp should do you well) if you’re making this for adults. However, I don’t add any salt when I make this for the wee ones, and considering how much salt is in cheese I find that they are usually seasoned (lightly, but adequately) without needing much more.

Scrape the mixture into your buttered baking dish and smooth out the top.

And here is where you will see some inconsistency in the photos, because I stopped taking pictures of the batch in the loaf pan and continued on with my photos when I made a double batch a few days later. I wasn’t kidding when I said that I make these all the time.

Bake in the centre of your oven for approximately 30-35 minutes (longer if you double the batch), or until the top is golden, the edges are browned, and the mixture has pulled away from the sides. You don’t want to undercook the squares or they will be surprisingly difficult to unmould, buttered pan be damned.

Let the cheesy spinach squares cool completely in the pan before unmoulding (put a plate or flat chopping board on top of the pan and then quickly turn it over. If you don’t feel the mass fall out right away, give the base a few quick raps) and cutting it up into squares of whatever size you choose.

When I make these as an appetizer or cocktail nibble, I prefer to use a larger pan so that the squares are thinner and I can cut them up into bite sized little rectangles. Harlowe, on the other hand, likes a big, thick square that she can hold in her first and really sink her teeth into. Sometimes we compromise, but mostly she just wins.

Cheesy but still packed full of greens, this is the kind of cocktail food that I don’t feel guilty for eating, and it is just as perfect for small hands and hungry mouths. And hey, we play with the recipe all the time in terms of the type of cheese, or maybe adding some chopped fresh basil instead of the dill, and so on. Feel free to take this as your jumping off point and make it your own. I hope you love these squares as much as we do!

Except that I totally didn’t love kale.

I had found ways to make kale palatable by hiding it in pasta or grain dishes. I had even found ways to make it delicious on it’s own by wilting it down with pancetta, pine nuts and raisins, but I still didn’t love kale, in and of itself. That’s when it occurred to me that I no longer had a phobia for kale, exactly, but rather raw kale, that tough and bitter scourge of the vegan rice bowl.

You know what? I was okay with that. Sure, my relationship with kale was conditional, but eating within those parameters we were still able to enjoy this leafy nutrient powerhouse at least once or sometimes twice a week. At last, Mike and I had graduated into the realm of “a Kale LIKING Couple”. That seemed like enough of a win. That is, until my sister-in-law introduced me to her now infamous and celebrated kale and chickpea salad. The kale was both raw and revelatory; I loved it. Raw kale, and I loved it.

You see, something very special happens when you dress kale well with a slightly acid dressing and then massage it into the leaves. Lovingly. Tenderly. Like someone who loves kale would do. The leaves soften almost immediately and become supple and flexible. In the mouth, the texture is more similar to a raw curly parsley than the hardy and crunchy raw kale that I had grown accustomed to (hating).

At first, I tried her salad to be polite. Then, I went back for a second helping. I took leftovers home and ate them greedily for lunch the next day at work. Yes, greedily.

I don’t know where my SIL got her original recipe from, but this is my adaptation. She has finished the salad with a sprinkle of parmesan cheese in the past, but I prefer the creamy texture and salty tang of a good quality feta. Other than that, this is pretty close to the one that she makes and which I covet. The salad is simple and quick to put together with flavours that are classic in a kale dish; olive oil, lemon, and plenty of garlic. With nutty chickpeas and salty cheese, this is a side salad that quickly subs in as a light and healthy meal in a pinch.

Also, raw kale, and it tastes delicious. Did I mention that? Because I’m still rather startled by this revelation, and I feel like the whole world should know. Finally, it IS possible.

Kale and Chickpea Salad

serves ~ 6-8 as a side dish but leftovers keep well for days

• 2 bunches curly kale
• 1 very large (2 small) cloves garlic
• 3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
• 1 fat lemon (juice of whole; 1 tsp lemon zest)
• 1 large can (28 oz) chickpeas
• 100 g (~2/3 cup) feta cheese *
• salt, to taste

* For a vegan option you could omit the feta cheese, or use a vegan feta substitute.

Strip the leaves from the kale and discard the tough stems. I find that the fastest way to do this is just to grasp the stalk firmly in a fist and pull upward, stripping it; the leaves will naturally separate from the stem.

Wash the kale leaves thoroughly to remove all grit and grime from the leaves.  Spin dry to remove any excess moisture and then roughly chop into smallish bite sized pieces.

Grate or press the garlic (mash if you prefer) and add one teaspoon of lemon zest. Squeeze in the juice of the full lemon (there should be about 3 tablespoons of juice) and add the olive oil. Season generously with salt and whisk to combine the dressing.

A quick note here on the word “generously”: I mean it. Kale loves salt. Kale craves salt. Kale cries out for salt in it’s sleep. Chickpeas echo the sentiment. Don’t believe that the slight smattering of feta in here will be enough to adjust for under-seasoning the kale, because it won’t. Be brave, because I speak from unfortunate experience when I say that a light hand with the salt will give you a salad that’s, well, kinda ho-hum and boring. Seasoned correctly, it is almost suspiciously delicious.

Drizzle the dressing over the kale and start to massage it into the leaves.

Unlike a delicate mesclun mix that you barely want to toss lest it bruises, kale likes a firm touch. Rub the dressing into the leaves brusquely and thoroughly. Watch the kale go from dusty looking and coarse to glossy and supple. It will also lose about 50% of the volume. This is the kale right after drizzling the dressing….

….and this is the same kale after a brief 2 minute massage.

Rinse and drain the can of chickpeas. Crumble the feta, and mix the chickpeas and feta into the kale salad.

The beauty of this salad is that it is both delicious and robust. You can serve it immediately or let the salad marinate in your fridge for up to 3 days. It can be eaten cold or at room temperature and you won’t need to worry about a pool of dressing in the bottom of the bowl.

Because it can be made in advance and holds up so well, this salad is perfect for an outdoor BBQ or potluck with friends. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I make it all the time. 

Raw kale and it actually tastes good. Who would’ve thought?

UPDATE: The original recipe for my sister-in-law’s salad is here! It seems that its really more of a (delicious) chickpea salad with kale than a kale salad with chickpeas. I guess that was the gateway that I needed! Over time, looks like I have unconsciously upped the kale quotient by about ten-fold. It’s that good.

I have always felt that cauliflower, like most crucifers, is often sadly overlooked. We spend so much effort on eating the rainbow, filling our plates with vibrant, colourful fruits and vegetables, that we sometimes forget the value in those that are just plain white. Pallid parsnips get passed over for purple and orange carrots, and poor old cauliflower plays a distant second fiddle to just about everything else. You totally know what I’m talking about, even if you are as much of a cauliflower lover as I am. Picture in your mind the last dozen half-eaten and abandoned vegetable trays that you’ve seen at a party. There might be a few lonely carrots rolling around, a solitary piece of celery and a mangled looking cucumber slice hidden under a piece of decorative purple kale, but the quarter tray of cauliflower looks as pristine and unsullied as when it was first laid out. There might as well be a sign on there saying, “Cauliflower, go home. Nobody likes you here, anyway.”

Except that I do. Quite a bit, really.

At times, I try to trick you into thinking that I have some kind of eternal home-cook creative genius going on, whereby I’m positively brimming with unique ideas that are just waiting to be shared. This is not one of those times. I happily stole the brilliant idea for a cauliflower “couscous” from Bitchin’ Kitchen after watching a re-run of an old Hallowe’en themed episode.

To be clear, this is not a couscous salad, it is a cauliflower salad that is prepared in such a way that it looks startlingly like couscous and would likely be the perfect foil for your picky no-veg-eating loved one. If you have a food processor, it comes together in a snap and is a lovely light side dish or offering on the buffet table. When I photographed this salad (many moons ago), it was paired with a Middle Eastern sweet and tangy spiced lamb chop, but it would be just as perfect alongside grilled chicken, fish or even a juicy pink pork loin.

Curried Cauliflower “Couscous” Salad

Serves 6 as a side dish

• 1 medium head of cauliflower
• 1 medium red pepper
• 1/3 cup kalamata olives, pitted (~20)
• 1/3 cup dried currants *
• 1/4 cup slivered almond
• 1 clove garlic
• 3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
• 1/2 tsp lemon zest
• 1.5 lemons, juice only
• 1 tsp mild curry powder
• 1/2 tsp ground cumin
• small handful fresh mint (2 tbsp minced)
• small bunch of parsley (3/4 cup minced)
• kosher salt, to taste

* You can substitute raisins if you prefer.

Grate or press the peeled garlic into a fairly large mixing bowl. Measure in the olive oil, 1/2 tsp of lemon zest, and juice of one and a half plump lemons. Add the dried spices.  I’m always a fan of mixing the dressing for a salad directly in the bowl first, because as far as I’m concerned it is just one less dish to wash! Season the dressing with salt before whisking together the ingredients.

Toast the almonds in a small dry skillet (or the oven, if it happens to be on) until they are golden brown. Set them aside to cool.

Now on to the bulk of the salad – the cauliflower!  Carve large florets off of the head of cauliflower and discard the main stem.  Working in batches of about 1/4 cauliflower at a time, pulse the raw florets in a food processor until they are equally small and granular, about the size of couscous. Remember to pulse  the mixture in short, small whizzes so that you have control over the size, because your intent is not to create a cauliflower puree.  When each batch is complete, add it to the mixing bowl containing your dressing.

Chop the red pepper into a small dice and coarsely chop the olives. Mince the parsley and mint. Add these ingredients, along with the currants, to the cauliflower.

Stir until everything is combined. Taste the salad and season again with a bit of salt if you need it, which you might. I find that people tend to have a much lighter hand when seasoning via dressing than they would when seasoning a whole salad, myself included.

Garnish the cauliflower couscous with your toasted slivered almonds, and you’re done!

I served this salad on the side of  some gorgeous rare lamb chops, but it is well worth noting that I have also eaten the leftovers for lunch as a stand alone meal and it was surprisingly satisfying, and possibly even more flavourful after allowing the ingredients time to blend.

With the warm weather here, and a summer full of backyard BBQ and potlucks looming on the horizon, dishes like this fast, fresh and healthy salad are hitting my table more frequently than ever. Or, put another way, cauliflower is quickly becoming a new favourite “grain” in this house!

Lamb is one of my absolute favorite meats and I have yet to meet a cut that I haven’t enjoyed, from succulent slowly braised neck to a glorious roasted leg, and literally everything in between. Well, except for lamb fries, but only because I haven’t had the opportunity to try them yet (mind you, considering my sexy-time crush on Chris Cosentino, it’s only a matter of time before they’re filling my plate). My favorite cut of lamb, however, is the ubiquitous chop; tender, versatile, and indescribably elegant and sophisticated.

Nothing screams “special occasion” like a beautiful lamb chop. There are few things in the world that I enjoy as much as gingerly picking up a ruby rare chop, holding the bone in exactly the same position that one would use to sip their tea from bone china, and nibbling myself into a stupor. When cooked properly, the meat is tender, succulent, and utterly worth the occasional indulgent splurge. When cooked improperly, however, the Kitchen Gods cry tears made of vinegary mint sauce. True story.

The good news is that it is incredibly easy to cook a basic rack of lamb so that it is flavorful, juicy, and well seared on the outside but evenly cooked within. The key to this is a simple technique, and that’s what I really want to show you, but I will also share my favorite Middle Eastern spice paste. It is sweet, tangy, exciting on the palate and an absolute perfect match for the tender and decadent chops.

Perfect Lamb Chops, Perfectly Easy

Serves 2-3….but usually 2!

• 1 rack of lamb *
• Salt and pepper, to taste

Spiced Pomegranate Glaze

• 1 tbsp pomegranate molasses **
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 2 medium garlic cloves
• 1/4 tsp cumin
• 1/4 tsp cinnamon
• 1/8 tsp cayenne pepper
• 1/8 tsp allspice

* The rack of lamb should weigh approximately 1.5 pounds and have 8 bones, which is really the average rack that you will find in North America. However, if by chance your rack is skinnier or heavier than this, you will need to adjust cooking times slightly.

** Pomegranate molasses is a syrup made from concentrated pomegranate juice and sugar. It is both very sweet and very, very tart. This is a common ingredient in Middle Eastern cooking and can be found at most Middle Eastern grocers, some specialty food stores, and even many well stocked supermarkets. Or, of course, you can make your own.

Your rack of lamb is probably ‘frenched’, which means that the excess meat and connective tissue has been cut away from the bone (see picture above). This is done mostly for pretty presentation, and to allow you a clean bone to pick up. However, it is also not necessary. Some people like best of all the crispy bits of meat between the bones! If your rack has not been cleaned/frenched, you certainly don’t need to do this, but I do recommend that you cut down between the bones just until you approach the top of the medallion. This will help the meat to cook evenly and will also make it easier for you to carve later.

Season the rack generously with salt and freshly ground pepper.

If you’re just reading this for technique, you can slather the lamb with whatever you prefer (Dijon mustard, garlic and rosemary is a popular choice), but I really want to show you my personal favorite, a spiced sweet and tangy Middle Eastern glaze. To make that, finely mince or press two cloves of garlic into a small bowl. Add the remainder of the pomegranate glaze ingredients. Pro tip: if you measure in the olive oil first, the pomegranate molasses won’t stick to your spoon.

Stir to combine the glaze ingredients into a thick sauce. Slather half of the glaze all over the meat, reserving the rest for later. Let the meat marinate for at least 30 minutes, or up to a whole day if you’re in no rush.

Preheat your oven to 450ºF. You want to start off with an oven that is hot, hot, HOT!

Put the lamb fat side up (or bone side down) on a rack set above a baking sheet. This will encourage air flow and even cooking.  Let the lamb roast at high temperature for seven (7) minutes.

Remove the lamb from the oven and turn the heat down to 325ºF.  Slather the meaty side of the lamb with the remaining glaze.

Pop the lamb back in the oven for an additional twelve (12) minutes for medium rare. If you like your lamb very rare, reduce that time to 10 minutes. If you prefer it closer to medium, increase the time to 14 minutes. If you like your lamb well done, go braise a shank instead because this is not the recipe for you.

It is worth noting that some ovens run hotter or colder than others, so to be sure that the rack is cooked to your liking, feel free to take the internal temperature using a digital meat thermometer and know that the temperature will increase by a few degrees as the meat rests. Also, please don’t stress yourself out trying to get a temperature that is exact. If you are 2-3 degrees up or down, it’s not the end of the world and your lamb will still be delicious. Trust me.

Rare: 120 – 125ºF

Medium Rare: 130 – 135ºF

Medium: 140 – 145ºF

Let the meat rest, tented with foil, for around 10 minutes before cutting the rack between each bone into evenly sized chops.

With meat this rich and delicious (you WILL clean the bones like Jack’s giant, I hope!), I suggest keeping side dishes fairly light and with flavors that complement your marinade or glaze. To play up the sweet and tangy Middle Eastern flavors of the spiced pomegranate glaze, we paired the lamb with a refreshing minted cucumber and yogurt salad, and cauliflower couscous.

Cooking the perfect lamb chops really is perfectly easy by following this technique. The next time that you’re making a fancy-shmancy meal for two, I urge you to impress your beloved with these succulent chops!

As a side note, Mike gets frustrated beyond belief because I am constantly saying, “Now you’re cooking with CHEESE!” He insists that the correct idiom is, “Now you’re cooking with gas”, which it is. Technically. I must sound like one of those people who talk about, “The doggone days of summer”, or “Jumping on the band’s wagon”. However, I feel that cooking with cheese is infinitely more satisfying than cooking with gas, expedient though it might be, so I refuse to change my ways, much to his chagrin.

I don’t even know if I can call this a “recipe”. It feels like a hideaway from one of those old Betty-Crocker style books, where every recipe somehow manages to involve a packet of instant vanilla pudding or yellow slab cake mix. But healthier and less processed. That said, we could all use a bit of simplicity in our lives once in a while, and if that takes the form of fast and easy little bite sized appetizers, so be it.

One last note is that measurements are very approximate and will vary based on the size of your apricots. Plump, juicy dried apricots will obviously be able to hold more than the small, dessicated little dried apricots that sat for a year on the back of your grocer’s shelves, waiting to be bought. Not to be size-ist, but in this case, bigger is usually better.

 Dried Apricots Stuffed with Brie and Almonds

• 2 dozen dried apricots
• 2 dozen whole almonds
• 4 oz Brie cheese
• 1 tbsp roughly chopped fresh thyme

Toasting the almonds is important as it really enriches the flavor with a robust nuttiness that borders on smoky or meaty. In fact, my father in law said to me, “I like the ones with the bacon!” In my opinion, things that taste loosely like bacon can never be bad.

Toast the almonds in a dry skillet set over medium heat for about 3-5 minutes, or until they are fragrant, darkened in color and…toasted. When you toast nuts in a pan instead of in the oven, they tend to get concentrated color where they touch the pan, as opposed to nuts toasted in the oven which colour evenly. However, I’m not going to turn on my oven for 2 dozen nuts, and even though these ones were just on the shy side of being burnt, they were absolutely perfect for the stuffing.

Let the almonds cool completely before use.

Tear the thyme leaves off and discard the tough and woody stems.

Each apricot will have a slit at some point along the seam of the fruit which is where the pit was removed. Locate the slit and gently coax the apricot open but make sure that you don’t tear all the way through.

Cut the Brie into small cubes, each about 1/2 – 1 teaspoon (depending on the size of your apricots). You want the cheese to be cold when you do this.

Lay an almond inside each apricot pouch. Squish on a cube of brie and drop a few thyme leaves over top. Flip the other side of the apricot over around the stuffing.

Dried Apricots Stuffed with Jalapeno and Goat Cheese

• 2 dozen dried apricots
• 1 medium size jalapeno
• 4 oz goat cheese

Start by slicing the jalapeno horizontally into rounds which are as thin as possible. If you can make them borderline translucent, all the better. And please ignore the thyme on the other side of the cutting board; I was multitasking.

Coax the apricot open along the seam of the pouch. Lay a slice of jalapeno inside and a goat cheese dollop, approximately 1/2 – 1 small teaspoon (plus or minus, depending on the size of your apricots), neatly in the centre. Fold the apricot pouch over like a well stuffed taco.

See what I mean about a simple and easy appetizer? Each one is only a bite, but it is a delicious and flavour packed punch of a bite.

These aren’t the prettiest pictures in the world, but such is life. It wouldn’t have hurt me to decorate the plate a little bit, for your sake if nothing else, but that’s not the lazybones way.

Stuffed apricots are so easy to do with a minimal number of ingredients, and very open to variation. Why not try an apricot stuffed with gouda and a scrap of bacon, or goat cheese and freshly torn basil? Cream cheese with candied cherry peppers or candied pecans for a sweeter treat? The possibilities are only limited by your imagination and good taste.