Roast Duck and a Big Gooey Cake

Holiday Open House Countdown Part Three: It's the Little Things

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Sun, 18 Dec 2011 13:39:00 +0000

Every year, when I’m cooking dozens and dozens of hors d’oeuvres for the Open House, I’m reminded of Mrs. Flax, the mother in the movie Mermaids. Played brilliantly by Cher, Mrs Flax only cooks finger food because anything else, she proclaims, is too much of a commitment.

I know what she means. A marshmallow kebab is assembled in a matter of seconds, while a lasagne takes time, patience and love.

But a funny thing happens when you’re making hors d’oeuvres in bulk. The same time, patience and love that you commit to a full blown meal works its way into every dip or meatball, every fondue and tapenade.

We’ve done pretty much everything we can do now. Dishes made ahead are defrosting; table set, serving dishes labelled and at the ready. The servers will be here in less than five hours, the guests hot on their heels, hungry and happy and full of holiday spirit.

As I share one more recipe and five more favourite Open House tips with you, I know that every dish we’ve laboured over, sprinkled with a lot of patience and seasoned with love, is worth the time and commitment we make to this seasonal celebration. May your own holiday celebrations be just as meaningful, and just as much fun.

Arancini
adapted from Martha Stewart Hors d’Ouevres Handbook
makes 3 dozen

These little risotto balls (arancini means "little orange" in Italian) are delicious warm or room temperature and can be made ahead. I've adapted the recipe by adding a savoury meat filling that makes these little bites even more satisfying.

For the risotto

4 cups chicken broth

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
2 large shallots
1 c Arborio rice
½ c dry white wine
1 tsp salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 tbsp chopped parsley
1 oz Parmigiano Reggiano cheese, grated
½ cup all purpose flour
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
½ cup yellow cornmeal or fine dry breadcrumbs
2 quarts peanut oil, for frying

1. Bring stock to a simmer over medium heat. Reduce heat to low and keep warm.

2. Heat the olive oil over medium heat, and cook the shallots until translucent. Add the rice and the salt, stirring frequently to coat all of the grains, until the edges of the rice become translucent.

3. Add the wine and cook, stirring, until nearly all of the wine is absorbed into the rice. Add 1 cup of the stock and cook, stirring constantly, until nearly all of the stock is absorbed.

4. Continue adding stock, ½ cup at a time, stirring constantly, until the rice is creamy but still firm, about 20 minutes. Season with pepper to taste. Stir in the parsley and Parmesan.

5. Remove from the heat and transfer to a large bowl. Allow the rice to cool completely, stirring occasionally. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until firm and thoroughly chilled. The mixture must be cold before proceeding with the recipe.

For the meat filling

¼ c olive oil

1 each small onion, carrot and celery stalk, finely chopped

¼ lb each ground pork and veal, mixed

1 c Marsala

½ c beef stock

1 tbsp tomato paste

2 tbsp minced parsley

1. In a medium saucepan, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion, carrot and celery and cook until softened.

2. Add the meat, stirring to break up, and cook until just browned; do not overcook. Add the Marsala, and turn heat to high; scrape up browned bits as you deglaze the pan. Reduce liquid by half.

3. Add the three remaining ingredients, turn heat to medium and simmer until thickened, about 15-20 minutes. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

4. If the risotto is chilled, proceed with recipe, otherwise the meat filling can be stored in the refrigerator overnight. Reheat gently to release juices before proceeding with recipe.

5. Place 1 generous tablespoon of the risotto in the palm of your hand, pack it lightly and make an indentation in the centre. Place a teaspoon of the meat mixture in the centre of the rice. Enclose the meat with the risotto to form a ball. Don't worry if the meat is not perfectly centred in the ball. Repeat with the remaining risotto and meat, placing finished arancini on parchment-lined trays. The arancini may be covered and refrigerated overnight at this stage.

6. Place the flour in a small rimmed baking tray. Place the eggs in a shallow bowl and the cornmeal or breadcrumbs in a small rimmed baking tray. Roll the arancini first in the flour, gently shaking off any excess. Dip the balls into the egg mixture, being sure to let any excess egg drip off before rolling in the cornmeal.

7. Heat the peanut oil in a large deep skillet. Carefully slip as many arancini as will fit comfortably in the pan into the hot oil, and fry until golden, 2 to 4 minutes. Repeat until all of the arancini are cooked. Drain the arancini on paper towels and keep warm until ready to serve.

The arancini can be prepared and cooked one day in advance and reheated in the oven before serving, or formed and refrigerated, uncooked, two days in advance.

Five Tips For Prepping a Party For a Crowd

1. Do what restaurants do: sear your meat in advance and finish cooking a la minute. Lamb chops are an Open House standard for us. We marinate the racks and sear the meat in advance. On party day, all that's left to do is the final broil.

Marinated...

...and seared, ready to be finished the next day

2. Don't limit yourself to hors d’oeuvres recipes. Rethink your favourite main course dishes and think about how you can downsize them. Have a killer lasagne recipe? Make it, cook it, cool it, precut into little squares, freeze it and presto - lasagne "bites" that you can reheat on party day.

3. When we host a dinner party, I always seem to buy too much bread. With a food ethic that says "never throw anything away", I slice those half baguettes and freeze them. Then, whenever I'm throwing a party, I thaw out the slices and toast for crostini/bruschette bottoms. For the Open House, I also make my own. One large baguette yields more than two dozen crostini and cost a couple of dollars; a fancy box of crostini yields far less than that, some of them broken, and cost $5.49. You do the math.

4. While I do have an extra fridge and freezer in the basement, I also use every available space to keep things cold. The garage doubles as a giant fridge at this time of year, as does the back porch. Especially handy for beverages (see tip #5).

5. We always serve a delicious non-alcoholic punch that both adults and kids love. I prep four batches in advance in empty extra large cranberry juice bottles, combining everything but the carbonated ingredients. On party day, I pour a batch into the punch bowl, add the remaining bubbles, stir and serve.

I'm off to do my last minute prep. Wishing you a lovely Sunday, wherever you may be.

Holiday Open House Countdown Part Two: Gingerbread Cookies

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Sat, 10 Dec 2011 10:00:00 +0000

Holiday Pop Quiz:

Gingerbread originated in which country?

a. Sweden

b. Armenia

c. France

If you’re anything like me, random facts, stats, historical footnotes and unusual bits of information intrigue and stick with me. For some reason, I can conveniently forget to pay the phone bill but miraculously remember that the name Wendy was made up for the play Peter Pan, or that Canadians eat more Kraft Dinner per capita than any other country in the world.

I especially love knowing those random and fascinating facts about food. Why mint with lamb? Is Greek yogurt really of Greek origin? And, as I baked more than 17 dozen gingerbread cookies this past weekend for our holiday Open House, I wondered - just where does gingerbread come from?

You’ll have plenty of time to decide if it’s Sweden, Armenia or France while you bake up a batch of my favourite, go-to gingerbread cookies. I’ll admit I’ve tweaked the recipe quite a bit over the years, adding more spices and heightening the ginger-to-molasses ratio. Before you do your own tinkering, try the original version below, from LCBO’s Food and Drink magazine. And if you really need to know the answer about where gingerbread comes from before you break your first egg, scroll to the end of the post.

Gingerbread Cookies

from LCBO Food and Drink magazine

yields approximately four dozen*

*NB: The yield is entirely dependant on the size of the cookie cutters used. Naturally, the smaller the cutter the greater the yield, but you are also limiting your ability to later personalise the cookies.

2 tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt
1 tbsp powdered ginger
4 tsp cinnamon
6 c unsifted all purpose flour
1 c vegetable shortening

1¾ c brown sugar

1¼ c white sugar

4 tsp molasses

3 large eggs, room temperature

½ c milk

1. Preheat oven to 325°F.

2. Sift together the baking soda, salt, ginger, cinnamon and flour. Set aside.

3. In a stand mixer, cream together the shortening, the two sugars and molasses until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. Add the eggs one at a time and continue to cream until incorporated.

4. Add a little of the flour mixture to the creamed ingredients, incorporating fully before adding more. When the dough begins to stiffen, begin alternating flour mixture with milk, until both are incorporated. Mix until a dough is formed. Cover the dough and refrigerate for at least one hour.

5. Roll out the dough on a floured surface, about a ¼ inch thick. Cut out gingerbread with cookie cutters. If you intend to use the cookies as ornaments, form a hole at the top of the cookie using a straw or chopstick, about a ¼ inch from the top.

6. Bake cookies until golden brown at the edges, about 20-25 minutes. Cool on racks and store until ready to decorate.

Five Tips for Baking Gingerbread Cookies

1. Start early. Gingerbread is hardy. If well cooled and stored in an airtight container, the cookies can be baked weeks in advance.

2. Sift dry ingredients ahead of time. If you`re making lots of cookies, sift the dry ingredients for each batch ahead of time and store in Ziplock bags. It`s an extra step done and makes the work go much more quickly.

3. Make the dough and prepare the cookies sheets in batches too. Because the dough has to rest for at least an hour, I spend one evening making the dough and store it in the fridge and then do a massive baking the next night. Instead of popping every tray in the oven as they're full, I do five full sheets at a time, eliminating the need to constantly open the oven door.

4. Use chopsticks to form the holes...both before and after baking. The holes tend to lose their shape during baking; a quick turn in each cookie ensures you`ll be able to thread ribbon through much more easily.

Reinforce ribbon holes in still-warm cookies

5. Buy extra oven racks and use the convection setting. I only really bake en masse once a year, but even so that one time made it worth it for me to buy three extra oven racks from my oven manufacturer for mass baking. Plus, I`m able to use those extra racks for reheating hors d'oeuvres during the Open House. I also started using the convection setting on my oven, shaving about 10 minutes from the baking time of each batch.

Click here for a super Royal Icing recipe that`s perfect to decorate these brown beauties.

*******

So, where did gingerbread originate? According to Wikipedia, gingerbread was brought to France via Pompeii in 992 by the Armenian monk Gregory of Nicopolis. The recipe later spread to Sweden and to the nether regions of Europe, every country adding a twist to make it their own. The constant is the spicy heat from ginger and the abundance of spices in general, reflecting the tendency to use the most rare and coveted ingredients for the Christmas feast.

Holiday Open House Countdown: Part One

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 12:25:00 +0000

I used to adore Christmas. I was the one who got up before all my siblings, going down the stairs on my tippy toes to scope out the presents piled high beneath the tree, checking to see if the milk and cookies were gone, biting down a squeal of delight if there was magical snow on the ground. My older, wiser sisters slept more peacefully, knowing that the thrill of anticipation is best cultivated by waiting, waiting, a little bit longer for gratification.

The obligatory beauty shot with the Christmas tree, pre-Santa visit

Invariably a gift or two was forgotten. There would be a wayward box tucked high in the closet, perhaps with new pyjamas, or maybe, if I was especially lucky, a new doll. New dolls being a rarity in a house with two older sisters and frugal, hand-me-down parents. My mother would suddenly slip away, coming back with the errant package, hastily wrapped and “forgotten” by Santa. Even when I was old enough to catch on, these last minute random gifts seemed somehow special, apart from the rest, and those pyjamas, that doll, treasured all the more for almost having been missed.

Those Christmases of a lifetime ago seem almost as mythical as Dickens. Nowadays, Christmas is a very different affair. My parents are both gone. My sisters and I, although still very close, live many miles and lives apart. And, as hard as we’ve tried, we just can’t seem to interest our cat in either new pyjamas or dolls (although a brand new catnip toy does garner more than passing interest). Time for new traditions, new ways of celebrating and sharing a spirit of joy during the Christmas season.

And thus was born our annual Holiday Open House. An iron-clad tradition, it started as a modest affair with 30 friends and family popping by to nibble on hors d’oeuvres and share a convivial hour or two. Sixteen years and three kitchens later, it is the bellwether for us that the season of giving has truly arrived, and with it, a chance to reconnect, relax, share and celebrate all that is good about Christmas.

With more than 80 people now regularly in attendance, and all of the food prepared by us, I modestly think we’ve become somewhat expert at throwing a ‘do. One that we know is as eagerly anticipated by all who come as it is by us who plan it.

As we begin the four week countdown to the big day – December 18 this year – I thought I would take you along on the journey, sharing tips, tricks, recipes and survival tactics for how to throw a party with aplomb, verve, passion and enthusiasm. Because I do firmly believe that even the most disastrous of events can be salvaged with a bit of verve and a lot of enthusiasm.

Five Tips for a Memorable Holiday Gathering

1. Send proper invitations. By that I mean in the mail. You remember mail, right? When it was exciting to receive a beautiful silver envelope amongst all of the junk and the bills? People still get excited by personal invitations and for the little bit more time and effort, it makes a wonderful impact. Yes, I know I know; you can’t keep track of RSVPs electronically; you can’t automatically send reminders; you won’t know who FOR SURE is coming and with whom – but do you ever really anyway? For years we even made our invites by hand but time and common sense in the form of my husband prevailed. Do what we do and look for beautiful invitations on sale after Christmas. Plan ahead for the next year (but remember where you put them!).

From the complex to the silly: handmade invites of Open Houses past

2. Hire help. For goodness sake, don’t be a martyr. Hire people to help you serve/clean/clear/take coats. Even if the gathering is small, hire a local college student (or pay your older kids) to pitch in and help. Even better – if there’s a local culinary or hospitality school, post your party there. You’ll get someone who’s enthusiastic about food. You’ll be more relaxed and more importantly you’ll be able to spend time with your guests. For our annual do, we hire five wait staff: two to do last minute prep for food, and three to do the rest.

3. Simplify your food choices. Finger foods are fun easy to prepare and many can be made and frozen in advance. I also stick with all savoury. Introducing sweets means coffee, tea, etc etc.

Pastry cirlces for mini meat pies that can be baked, frozen, and pre-heated as needed

4. Remember it’s the season of giving. Amidst all of the bounty, we try to remember those who have less than us. Every year we accept donations to our Daily Bread Food Bank. With the abundance on the table, it makes us feel great to collect those boxes and boxes of food.

The generosity of our guests in full evidence

5. Give everyone a little something special to take home. Every year we make each guest a personalised gingerbread cookie. It’s probably the most laborious thing we do, but perhaps the most satisfying. I love seeing the look on the kids’ faces when they’re handed a cookie with their name on it. And nothing beats the smell of gingerbread baking.

Stay tuned for more as we gear up and count down. This is truly one of our favourite things – perhaps it will become one for you too.

Plate to Page - Eating and Drinking in la Bella Toscana

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 13:36:00 +0000

How many days does it take, I wonder, to get perfectly accustomed to having wine at every meal? In la bella Toscana, it seems the answer is barely two. Just days into the Plate to Page workshop and already I’m anticipating the wine we’ll have with lunch at Il Salicone winery.

Il Salicone is not your typical Tuscan winery. It’s an artisanal operation, producing small batch Sangiovese blend wines that are more likely to find their way into demijohns for local purchase as they are to be bottled and sold at retail. There’s no proper restaurant; tables are set outside, mismatched glasses and plastic utensils belying the feast that’s to come. The three signore preparing our meal smile and say “buon giorno” as we walk through the kitchen and out onto the simple terrace.

There couldn’t be a more perfect day for it, with the sun so blazingly hot it feels more like July than October. There’s barely a whisper of a breeze and even the birds seemed fooled into thinking it’s summer, singing like crazy as they scramble for stray crumbs. The meal is brought out and almost offhandedly laid before us. Platters abound: chicken liver crostini; cheese with acacia honey; simple salume. Ribollita¸ a slow cooked soup of day old bread and seasonal vegetables are here, along with a choice of fritatte: cheese, pancetta or leeks. The Poggioalcanto we’re drinking is just right with this Tuscan spread: full and fruity, without the rough edge that many Sangiovese wines seem to have.

We sit back, sated. And then la signora comes out with one last bite – a plate of cantuccini, traditional Tuscan almond cookies. Twice baked to draw out the moisture, cantuccini are deliberately hard and dry, to store them for long periods of time, as was the original intent, or better yet, to dip them into our wine. I move to a shady spot to savour this last bite. As I dip the cantuccio, it absorbs the liquid like a sponge, transforming it from buttery yellow to a deep plum, and softening it just enough to take a resounding bite. Sweet and acidic, soft and hard, the conflicting sensations combine somehow in the most satisfying way.

I drain the last sip in my glass, thankful that the next meal – and next glass of wine – is only hours away.

************

This blog post was conceived and written at the recent Plate to Page Tuscany workshop, in partnership with Marta Majewska, who blogs at Princess Misia. Marta is a fantastic photographer, and shot the first and the last photo in this post, while I captured the words that described our experience, and the biscotti in the middle. Thanks, Marta, for being an amazing assignment partner and a great roommate to boot! And hugs to Valentina Jacome, our other roomie, who blogs in Portuguese at Trem Bom.

And if you are passionate about food and blogging, and you haven't heard of Plate to Page Tuscany, get thee to their website. The four organisers are not only truly successful food bloggers; they are absolutely delightful, and the very best hosts for an intensive, engaging writing and photography workshop. The next Plate to Page is taking place in Somerset, Engalnd; be sure to register your interest!

With thanks to the P2P rock stars: Ilva Beretta of Lucullian Delights, Jeanne Horak-Druiff of Cook Sister!,Meeta Kurana Wolff of What's For Lunch, Honey?, and Jamie Schler of Life's a Feast. Watch this space for more P2P posts!

La Bella Italia: Panzanella Salad from la cucina povera

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 23:19:00 +0000

Always the freshest produce at the Italian market

Necessity, as they say, is the mother of invention.

Born to Italian immigrants, I saw this first hand growing up. We reused and recycled long before it was fashionable; everything was saved and nothing went to waste. Nowhere was that more apparent than around food. The parmigiano rind went into the soup, adding depth and richness of flavour. Drippings were carefully strained and preserved. Coffee grinds and egg shells made a rich compost, the better to grow our tomatoes, zucchini and peppers.

That is also how the most delicious of Italian dishes have been born. La cucina povera – literally the poor kitchen – is represented by those dishes where a little had to go a long way, a piece of meat was precious, scarce and longed for, and nothing ever went to waste. Pappa al pomodoro – bread and tomato soup. Risi e bisi – rice and beans. Acquacotta – literally “cooked water” soup, into which all of the day’s scraps were combined to make a warming (and delicious) broth.

Rolling Tuscan hills as far as the eye can see at Fattoria di Montalbano

The view at breakfast - an idyllic spot to start the day

We began our recent two week Italian holiday in an agriturismo just south of Florence – Fattoria di Montalbano. We had rented Il Trebbiali, a six bedroom villa on the grounds of the Nustrini farm. Charming, comfortable and with a big homey Tuscan kitchen, I had visions of cooking up a storm of Italian delicacies. As it happened, dinner was more often than not a gorgeous plate of salume and cheese, accompanied by delicious Chianti.

Enjoying a sundowner at Il Trebbiali

On our last night at Il Trebbiali, we planned to use the last of what was in the fridge. And so it was that I experienced firsthand la cucina povera. Upon inspection, there wasn’t much left, but I knew what was there would be great. I’d assemble a plate of the remaining finocchiona, prosciutto and pecorino; the fresh sausages we bought at the local marcelleria would be grilled, and we’d finish with perhaps my favourite of the cucina povera repertoire: panzanella – a tomato, bread and cucumber salad that humbly combines a handful of ingredients into a splendid dish.

Panzanella Salad
serves four comfortably, and two greedily

A half a loaf or more of good quality day old Italian bread. The bread must be old; this is not the time to use a fresh loaf
Olive oil
One garlic clove, cut in half
6-8 really ripe but firm tomatoes. Forget the hard tasteless fruits of winter and greenhouses
1 English cucumber
4-6 leaves fresh basil, torn
More olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Slice the bread into thick pieces. Rub the cut clove over one side and generously brush both sides of the bread with olive oil. Grill the bread over a charcoal grill, turning the pieces until both sides are browned and toasted. Set bread aside to cool.

2. Roughly chop the tomatoes and put them in a large serving bowl. Some recipes for panzanella call for the tomatoes to be peeled and seeded; I say - this is a rustic salad. La mamma would have dispensed with such niceties when trying to feed a hungry family.

3. Trim the cucumber and chop into bite sized pieces. Add to the tomatoes. Add the basil.

4. Cut the bread into large crouton-style cubes. Add to the tomatoes and toss all three ingredients until well combined.

5. Add a generous amount of olive oil (at least 2 tbsp) and salt and pepper to taste. Toss, taste and adjust seasonings if necessary.

The salad can be made ahead, enough so that the juices develop and the bread absorbs some of the tomato flavour but not so much that you have soggy bread. If you are making ahead, add the basil just before serving and give a final toss to combine ingredients.

Serve at the end of a Tuscan meal, preferably during sunset, and finish with a delightful bottle of Chianti.

Buon appetito!

La Bella Italia

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Thu, 20 Oct 2011 17:00:00 +0000

It's been so long since I've updated duckandcake, but it's not a shortage of stories that's stopping me. In between life, which has been full tilt and non-stop busy, Richard and I escaped to Italy for a blissful two week holiday. Stay tuned as I share stories, great places to stay and visit, recipes and most of all our wonderful food experiences.

Pranzo in Spoleto and a taste of posts to come...

A presto, amici!

Just Peachy: Homemade Peach Salsa

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Sat, 03 Sep 2011 12:44:00 +0000

I can’t believe it’s already September. It’s the time of year that becomes measured by the retail count-down calendar. Back to school is barely over before Halloween candies and Thanksgiving turkeys creep into the grocery aisles. And when I hear that first Christmas carol on the radio, I know that snow and short dark days are not far behind.

But I know I'll forget all of that when I see what’s at the farmers’ market today. An embarrassment of tomato riches. Ripe peaches and plums. Early apples, mouth-puckering tart. Glorious corn. It’s when I wish we had a houseful of kids so that I can buy bushels of produce.

A year after I discovered the joys of canning and preserving, I’m itching to buy those bushels anyway and lock summer in a jar. The sad truth is that I just don't have the time. It’s the choices around time that are the hardest ones to make of all. I’ve been away from home for far too long and too much these past three weeks to buy three bushels of tomatoes and lock myself in the kitchen making sauce. Striking the balance between what feeds our soul and what feeds our relationships is a constant struggle. So, right now, I'll spend my weekend reconnecting with my husband, my house and my life, satisfied in the knowledge that I managed to make the most of some gorgeous summer peaches three weeks ago.

Peach Salsa
makes about 8 8-oz jars

Although I have several cookbooks devoted to canning and preserving, my go-to is the Bernardin Complete Book of Home Preserving. I use it more as a guide than a step by step, especially when it comes to sugar quantities. This is my version of the Bernardin peach salsa, modified to let the peach flavour really shine.

½ c white vinegar
10 c peeled and chopped peaches
1 chopped red onion
2 jalapeno peppers, finely chopped
1 red bell pepper, seeded and chopped
¼ c chopped cilantro
2 tbsp honey
½ tbsp cumin
¼ tsp cayenne pepper

1. Put all ingredients in a large non reactive pot and stir gently to combine. Bring to a boil over medium high heat, stirring constantly. Reduce heat and bring to a rolling simmer for five minutes, continuing to stir until the salsa is thickened slightly.

2. Ladle hot salsa in prepared jars and process in a hot water bath for 15 minutes. Remove jars from water, check for proper sealing, cool and store.*

Use this mildly piquant salsa with with pork, fish or grilled meats

*If you haven't canned before, refer back to my post on Italian Plum Jam, which includes a step-by-step pictorial and some great links to preserving websites

Made in Japan: On-Line Auction for A Fund for Jennie

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Sun, 28 Aug 2011 20:29:00 +0000

On March 11, we all watched with horror as Japan experienced first a devastating earthquake and then an even more destructive tsunami. Amidst the tragedy and uncertainty, what happened next was truly inspiring, as the world gathered to take the Japanese people in its arms and give them comfort, in whatever way it could.

The tsunami was on my mind this week while I was in Tokyo on business. On the surface, Tokyo is the same as ever – an exciting, eclectic city, filled with wonderful people and the weird and wacky things that make Japan so unique. Taxi drivers with their white gloves and immaculate crocheted covered seats. Shops dedicated to making and selling just one thing: crackers, say, or egg omelettes. The tiny restaurants and cafes that serve completely fresh and seasonal food as a matter of course, their popularity measured by the long and patient lines of patrons waiting to be seated.

Sakura (cherry flavoured) tempura-style bun from Agemaju Asakusa Kokonoe, a little stall that sells nothing but five flavours of tempura-style buns

But deeply, fundamentally, something has changed in Japan. As one person described it to me, “Meaningful experiences matter more than ever, especially with our families. And making a difference for others has never been so important.”

Making a difference was on my mind this week, too. The Twittersphere was full of a call to action; a communal gathering to comfort, to offer succour, to try and assuage another deep and fundamental wound. When Jennifer Perillo lost her husband suddenly and cruelly a few weeks ago, friends and strangers alike responded with the deep need to help make a devastating blow bearable in whatever way they could. From making peanut butter pies to launching a donation fund, to creating the most amazing online auctions, we’ve tried to gather Jennie in our arms. I’m sure you’ve read about this and, like me, have marvelled at the generosity of people.

I wanted to do my part to help, and with the perfect opportunity to pick up some wonderful Japanese products, I’m launching my own online auction for Jennie. Made in Japan features items you’ll be able to bid on that have come with me direct from Tokyo this week, and represent a wide variety of Japanese goods to surprise, delight and enjoy.

Included in the Made in Japan auction:

Two knives from Sugimoto, a company that has been making knives since the 1830s. The tiny shop at Tsukji Market is worth seeking out. I bought two knives from Sugimoto last year and am a big fan. The auction features a stainless steel Western style 6” general purpose knife and a 4” single edge honed traditional Japanese carbon blade, wood handled vegetable knife (for right handed cooks). Also from Sugimoto – a pair of fish tweezers for picking out the fine bones from your next salmon fillet.

A set of two beautiful lacquer ware cups from Urusi. The finish is satiny smooth and cups can be used for either hot or cold beverages

Two sizes of suribachi with a surikogi. The suribachi is a Japanese mortar used with a pestle (the surikogi). In Japanese cooking the suribachi is used to crush sesame seed. Smaller versions can be used to grate fresh wasabi or ginger.

Set of eight small appetizer dishes; two shapes, each with four different patterns

Delightful baking supplies. Two packs (100 each) of whimsical cupcake holders and a stencil for making special personalised cookies

A shichimi togarashi set (pictured right) from Yagenbori, a company that has been in business since 1625. They make the delicious seven spice blend known as shichimi togarashi, which is blended to order with every purchase. This blend is the “medium” version; my favourite way to use it is in sautéed kale, and the set includes a wooden holder for the spice

Yuzu Sencha tea with Matcha from Jugetsudo. This tea is delicious hot or cold and makes a particularly refreshing drink with its unique yuzu flavour. Plus matcha powder, with recipes

Sweet treats, including sugar coated soy beans and pretty sugar candies

And my favourite item: coasters in three colours with the following message: Welcome. Please relax slowly while drinking the drink. Sage advice indeed.

The value of the auction items is $450. Bidding starts at $100. To bid,
leave a comment below with your bid amount. Bidding will end on Friday, September 2 at 11:59 pm Eastern time – just before the stroke of midnight. NEW: I will include shipping for anywhere in continental North America.

As the Japanese say, hito wa itawari atte ikite ikanakereba narimasen: people have to live by caring for each other. Bloggers Without Borders is still accepting donations to A Fund For Jennie, with the proceeds going directly to Jennie and her two girls. Click here to give whatever you can; every dollar counts and helps.

Arigatou gozaimasu – thank you very much, and good luck!

BSP2 Part Two: Who Made the Quinoa Salad?

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Mon, 08 Aug 2011 10:16:00 +0000

For someone who travels as much as I do, you'd think I'd be a light packer.

I consider it a success if I can manage to pack for a week with just five pairs of shoes (I’m counting my running shoes as part of the five, mind). While I do plan ahead, and know exactly what I’ll be wearing when, I like to have options, shall we say. And then there’s the matter of the “shop opp”. Even with the smallest of suitcases, I always bring a fold up bag that expands to duffel size proportions. Because you just never know when a shop opp will present itself.

But when I went to Big Summer Potluck, I was determined to bring just a carry on. Criteria were simple: only three pairs of shoes – max. Room for an optional top (or two). And most importantly: space for my potluck salad ingredients, which included six cups each of cooked red rice and quinoa. I felt practically empty-handed as I wheeled my cute little pink Zuca through the airport.

I’ll spare you the details of the delayed flights, the six-lane freeway closure, the fact that I couldn’t find watercress for the salad. What matters is I finally arrived at the Anderson home –the setting for the first evening gathering and our kick-off potluck dinner – salad in hand.

The fabulous Anderson home

High stakes when you bring food to a food blogger event and it’s being hosted by Pam Anderson. Even higher when’s it’s a gluten-free affair. But people who are obsessed with food are generous souls, and seek nothing more than to gather round the feast. Because we all know that every dish is made with love, spiced with humour and served with pride.

And so my quinoa salad was eaten down to the last bite. And me, the very proud lighter packer, went home with the biggest (and heaviest) prize of all – a glorious candy apple red Kitchen Aid stand mixer. Betty, as she is proudly named (thanks Jenny), now sits on my kitchen counter. A constant reminder of the generosity of spirit that is BSP2. With thanks to Kitchen Aid and eight second hugs all around for the fabulous Andersons and Erika of The Ivory Hut.

Betty, comfortably at home at chez duckandcake

Red Rice and Quinoa Salad with Dried Cherries, Walnuts and Capers
serves 4 as a side dish

I knew the salad was a hit when The Tough Cookie came downstairs during dinner and demanded to know "Who made the quinoa salad?" This salad is dedicated to Gail, who will make it, and Jackie, who will eat it.

1 cup each cooked red rice and quinoa, rinsed and drained
⅓ c chopped walnuts
⅓ c dried cherries
1-2 tbsp capers, rinsed and drained
Zest of one lemon
¼ chopped mint
½ c chopped watercress (or chopped spinach)
2 tbsp minced chives
Salt (optional)*

*Salting the rice and quinoa while cooking, and the addition of capers to the salad, should make the salad plenty salty.

Combine all of the ingredients together in an attractive bowl and serve. The salad is a great make-ahead dish; refrigerate several hours ahead and bring it to room temperature before serving.

Big Summer Potluck 2, Part One: On Becoming a Food Blogger

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Wed, 03 Aug 2011 11:24:00 +0000

A breakfast feast at BSP2, featuring fresh peaches, gluten-free muffins and homemade jam from Sugarcrafter

I remember the first time I wondered if I was really a bona fide blogger, even a part-time one, which was all I was aspiring to be. I was having that most perfect of Saturday morning indulgences – a pedicure – and as the aesthetician and I chatted, I mentioned I had a food blog. “I have a blog too!” she said. It was a mommy blog, and she had started it a month earlier. We exchanged URLs, and when I got home I looked up her site. I had written nine posts that month – quite an accomplishment, I thought, for my little hobby. Erika had written 80. Not eight – 80. Whoa.

I had dipped a toe in the water of food blogs barely six months before. Ready-made Blogger template; barely a notion of how to tag, let alone what it would do for my Google ranking. Monetize? I had gingerly put two food-related ads on my blog; the cheque must still be in the mail. Every new follower was a triumph and it didn’t matter that the number hardly changed from week to week (well, it did, but this was a hobby, right?). I thought I took decent photos with my little point and shoot.

I was amazed at the size and diversity of the food blogging community. I threw a stone in the pond and I joined Foodbuzz, Cook Eat Share, The Daring Kitchen, Charcutepalooza. With each ripple, I saw the community was legion, and I couldn’t even make out the distant shore. Relationships mattered, and Twitter provided a way to form immediate connections, even if at arm’s length and more like cousins twice removed than siblings.

The beautifully simple table setting at Linden Hill Gardens

And that’s how I heard about Big Summer Potluck. It hardly mattered what it was; what did matter was that it seemed to be a MUST ATTEND event (and if @thepeche said so, I was smart enough to believe it). It seemed a friendly thing – somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania – and with just the right amount of people; not too big to be overwhelming, not too small to feel out of step with all those who would surely know one another. And so I bought a ticket. With that weird blend of low and massive expectations, I made my way by two planes and an automobile to Ottsville, PA, quinoa and rice salad in tow.

I learned a lot. Not about SEO, or monetization, or tagging or writing the perfect post. I learned that a moment can be an idea. That the hardest part of getting a great photo is getting past yourself. That you need a point of departure - what, exactly, are you trying to say with those words? That photo? The post? And that it's okay not to know the answer to those questions when you start.

Chickens at Linden Hill - living in the moment

At BSP2 last weekend I wondered again if I was a bona fide blogger. But for the first time, I finally got permission to be exactly the kind of blogger I can be, with the expectations not formed by some amorphous and invisible host of judges, but by me. That was the life lesson, amongst many, that Shauna James Ahern, the wonderful Gluten-Free Girl, imparted. Get real and be real, girl (and boy). Expose your messy self. It's what matters and what makes a connection count. Yes, indeed.

The radiant Penny de los Santos.

Perhaps by now you’ve read some of the amazing and moving blog posts written by others who were at BSP2. If you haven’t you should know that Penny de los Santos is a wizard – not just with her camera, but with her ability to spellbind a room and recreate a photograph that all of us could see as clearly as if it were in front of us. [Click here to see the incredible photographs that Penny was describing and the read the beautiful story They Remember Home by Annia Ciezadlo]. I have never been so inspired and felt so connected to a speaker before – but that’s because this was a personal conversation and Penny offering her art (and self) up to us with arms wide open. And that was her point, really. As Penny says, photography is a metaphor for life - and that magical moment of making a connection, of drawing people in - is what really matters.

Expectations? Beyond exceeded. But that's what happens when you think you're going to a food blogger event and you find yourself connected to an instant family of friends.

So am I a bona fide blogger? If what that means is that I am passionate about what I write, that it matters to me, and that I am being my real self - then I think the answer is yes. It matters less that I have the requisite photo of ingredients with "easy and delicious recipes that you can make for dinner tonight!" (guilty as charged). It matters more that I am connected - to myself first of all, and then hopefully to you too. I hope you stick around to see how it all comes out.

[With a huge 8 second hug and thanks to Maggy of Three Many Cooks and Erika of The Ivory Hut for an amazing event. Can't wait 'til next year!]

Dinner Tonight: Braised Halibut with Cherry Tomato-Caper Sauce

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 03:19:00 +0000

There are certain distinct advantages to having a husband who works from home. Pesky errands that can be done during the day. Laundry that magically appears, folded and clean (really!). A back up plan for unexpected emergencies (like the time that a heel broke off my shoe at work and Richard delivered another pair to me). And best of all, dinner ready when I come home. As much as I love to cook, I have surrendered to the luxury of the simple, delicious and healthy meals that await, no matter what time I arrive.

Fish is a frequent Richard choice, and halibut is a particular favourite. Now that tiny delicious local cherry tomatoes are starting to appear, this easy dinner dish is one you must try. Pour a glass of crisp and fruity white wine, and raise a glass to your partner. No matter who made dinner tonight, every meal is a chance to be grateful for sharing it together.

Braised Halibut with Cherry Tomato-Caper Sauce
from the 5-Factor World Diet, by Harley Pasternak and Laura Moser

2 halibut fillets (about 5 ounces each)
Salt and pepper
2 tsp olive oil
1 cups cherry tomatoes cut in half
2 tbsp capers, drained and rinsed
2 tbsp lemon juice

1. Season the halibut with salt and pepper. In a non-stick skillet, heat 1 tsp of the olive oil over medium-high heat, add the fish and cook for five minutes per side, or until cooked through. Transfer to a platter and cover to keep warm.

2. In the same skillet, heat the remaining olive oil over medium-low heat. Add the tomatoes, capers and lemon juice to the skillet, and cook for a couple of minutes, or until the tomatoes are softened but not completely cooked. Plate the fish, spoon the sauce over the halibut and serve with crusty bread.

Summer Canning: Strawberry Jam with a Thai Twist

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Sat, 02 Jul 2011 18:05:00 +0000

Of all the summer fruits, strawberries always struck me as being a bit prosaic, and slightly disappointing. Maybe I've been jaded by years of eating out of season flavourless berries, pristinely perfect under their cello wrappers, but without a smidge of sweetness. Or maybe it's the memory of those big jars of Kraft jam, brimming with sugar and big blobs of fruit that tasted like nothing resembling the real deal.

So when I started canning for the first time last year, making strawberry jam wasn't on my radar. But the appearance two weeks ago of the season's first strawberries was pretty hard to resist, especially a flat of organcic berries from Belanger Organic Farms. Armed with a lot of berries and eager to get the season's canning underway, I finally made my own strawberry jam, adding a bit of a Asian twist. The results reminded me why strawberry jam is the most popular flavour by far. And if you're not inclined to make your own, click here to read which producers are still making strawberry jam and preserves the good old-fashioned way.

Strawberry Jam with a Thai Twist
yield: 8-10 ½ pint jars

This jam calls for lemongrass and kaffir lime leaves, ingredients traditionally used in Thai cuisine. The additon of these ingredients while cooking the strawberries impacts a brightness to the jam's flavour and cuts through the sweetness. If these ingredients aren't readily available, the jam can be made without them.

Note: If you haven't canned or made jam before, see my post on Plum Jam for a step-by-step tutorial.

5 quarts organic strawberries
10 c sugar
1¼ c lemon juice, plus ¼ c as needed (reserve rinds and seeds)
5 fresh kaffir leaves
2 stalks lemongrass, trimmed and cut into four pieces

1. Wash, hull and slice the strawberries. Combine the berries with the sugar and lemon juice in a non-reactive pot or large bowl, and macerate for at least 4 hours at room temperature to let the flavours and juices develop. Tie the reserved rinds and seeds in cheesecloth and set aside.

2. Put the berries and all the juices and sugar in a large stockpot, along with the reserved lemon rind and seeds, the kaffir leaves and the lemongrass. Bring to a boil and then to a rolling simmer, skimming off the foam as it forms. Continue cooking, stirring occasionally, for 30 to 45 minutes, until the jam reaches the jell point. If the jam is not setting, add a little more lemon juice.

3. Once the jam is ready, discard the kaffir, lemongrass and lemon rinds, ladle the jam into prepared jars and process for 10 minutes. Remove from water, cool and store.

Summer's seasonal sweetness, captured to enjoy year round

In Season: Risotto with Spot Prawns and Asparagus

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Wed, 22 Jun 2011 02:57:00 +0000

Seasons are fleeting. And so their bounty is all the more precious for being so ephemeral. Two of my favourites, spot prawns and asparagus, are already towards the end of their peak. And although it's true that a good fishmonger will have frozen spot prawns throughout the year (Fisherfolk for example), and that asparagus is a staple in every grocery store year round, it's in season goods that I crave. The perfect dish to showcase fresh spot prawns and asparagus so tender that you can eat the whole stalk? A delicious al dente risotto, ready in minutes and savoured slowly. As summer offically starts, this may be the last weekend to make this wonderful dish.

Risotto with Spot Prawns and Asparagus
serves two

A note on the recipe: Whenever we cook shrimp, I save the shells and freeze them. They make an excellent base for a delicious shrimp-flavoured broth that adds depth to soups and dishes such as this. If you do not have shells available, increase the amount of chicken stock to 4 cups and skip steps two and three of the recipe.

8-10 oz fresh spot prawns
2 tbsp each lemon juice and lemon olive oil or extra virgin olive oil*
Shells from 2 lbs shrimp
2 c water
½ tsp salt
2 small carrots
4 small stalks celery, preferably from the tender heart
1 large shallot, peeled and halved
2 tbsp olive oil
2 oz pancetta, minced
1 lb asparagus, trimmed and cut into ½ inch pieces**
1½ c Arborio rice
½ c white wine
2-3 c chicken stock

*We love Olivers and Co.'s Lemon Specialty Olive Oil for its bright taste and unique flavour. It's terrific on salads with a little balsamic and salt and pepper. Use regular extra virgin olive oil if lemon flavoured oil is not available.

**If you've got your hands on really fresh asparagus, don't snap the ends off - simply trim the tough outer skin at the bottom of the stalk and use the whole darn thing.

1. Combine the lemon juice, olive oil and shrimp in a small bowl and marinate. Proceed with shrimp broth while shrimp are marinating.

For shrimp broth:

2. Combine shrimp shells, water and salt and bring to boil. Lower heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Strain shells, reserving liquid in the pan.

3. Bring the liquid to a boil, adding the carrot, celery and shallot, lower heat and simmer for 30 minutes. Cool slightly. Puree broth to incorporate carrot, celery and shallot thoroughly. Set aside and proceed with recipe.

4. To cook shrimp, grill or broil with their shells until just cooked through. Cool slightly, peel and set aside.

5. Heat chicken broth and keep to slow simmer over low heat. In a separate pot, heat shrimp broth and keep to slow simmer over low heat.

6. Mince remaining carrot, shallot and celery. Heat olive oil over medium heat, add vegetables and pancetta, cook for two minutes, until vegetables are slightly translucent and pancetta sizzling. Add rice and sauté for a further two minutes or until rice is well coated.

7. Add white wine and stir until wine is absorbed. A cup or so at a time, and alternating between the pureed shrimp broth and chicken stock, add the liquid to the rice, ensuring that the liquid is thoroughly absorbed before adding more liquid. This step should take about 20 minutes; your goal is to have rice that is firm (al dente) in the centre but tender.

It's worth taking a moment and hearing from Marcella Hazan on how much liquid to use in risotto:

The quantity of liquid given [in a risotto recipe] should be considered an approximate amount. You may end up using less or slightly more than indicated, but this is not significant. There are too many variables involved to be able to establish a "correct" amount of liquid. What is important is never to cook risotto with too much liquid at one time, and to bring it to its final tender but firm-to-the-bite stage so that it is creamy but not saturated.

8. Ladle the finished risotto into shallow serving bowls and garnish with the cooked spot prawns. And there you have it. A beautiful spring-into-summer dish full of seasonal goodness.

On the Lamb: Harissa-Rubbed Lamb Chops with Charmoula

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Sat, 28 May 2011 17:56:00 +0000

As a part-time food blogger and full time food freak, my antenna is always up for delicious things to make, eat and blog about. More and more, I’m cooking and posting original recipes that I’ve either perfected or – through pure blind luck and some modicum of skill – managed to create from the season’s best.

But sometimes, the clamour for a recipe outweighs my desire to be original. And that clamour was resounding last week when I made Bonnie Stern’s amazing Harissa-Rubbed Lamb Chops with Charmoula, from her wonderful Friday Night Dinners cookbook. With a houseful of people – 14 to be exact – all of them passionate about great food and wine, we wanted to serve something that was foolproof fabulous. And while our Butter Crunch Salad, Quinoa with Dried Cherries, and Rosemary-Roasted Salmon were all hits, the star of the show was the finger-licking good, garlicky, sweet-and-spicy chops. Easy, beautiful and tasty – a triumvirate that you can’t beat.

Harissa-Rubbed Lamb Chops with Charmoula
serves 10 to 12

For maximum flavour, we marinate the lamb a day ahead and refrigerate, and make the charmoula a day ahead too. We sear the lamb the next morning, and refrigerate until ready to cook and serve. So all that needs to be done for dinner is finish cooking the lamb.

You can also freeze the rack of lamb after searing. Just defrost, make the charmoula and finish off the lamb. We did just that last night, and had a ready-made Friday night dinner of our own in 30 minutes flat.

For the harissa:
½ c olive oil
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbsp smoked paprika (seek it out – the distinct flavour can’t be replicated with just regular paprika)
1 tbsp ground cumin
2 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp cayenne or hot pepper sauce
4 racks of lamb

For the charmoula:
1 c olive oil mayonnaise
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbsp lemon juice
1 tsp hot red pepper sauce
½ tsp ground cumin
1 tbsp smoked paprika
2 tbsp finely chopped fresh cilantro

1. Make the harissa by combining all of the wet and dry ingredients in small bowl. Rub every last bit into the lamb. If making immediately, leave on the counter; if holding to cook later, place in a casserole dish, cover and refrigerate (overnight if desired).

2. Make the charmoula by combining all ingredients in a small bowl. Refrigerate until ready to use, bringing to room temperature before serving.

3. If finishing the dish immediately, preheat the oven to 400°F. In a large roasting pan over medium high heat, sear the lamb racks, meaty side down, until browned. Transfer the racks to lined rimmed baking sheet, bone side down, and roast for 20 to 25 minutes for medium rare. Alternatively, grill the racks on a gas or charcoal babecue to enhance the smoky flavour.

4. Slice the lamb into chops, place on a platter, and serve with the charmoula on the side.

In Season: Orrechiette with Fiddleheads, Wild Ramps and Spot Prawns

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Tue, 17 May 2011 09:00:00 +0000

Although it's been wet, rainy and just too darn cold for spring to feel like it's really here, it hasn't stopped all the beautiful green things from breaking ground. At last week's farmers' market, amongst the cold cellar apples and farm fresh eggs, there was spring bounty to be had: asparagus big and fat and firm, sandy ends still damp; fiddlehead ferns, tightly coiled and emerald green; and that most fleeting and prized of spring greens: wild ramps, the leek's kissing cousin.

Like all things fresh and green, simple is best: a steam, a sauté, the earthy flavours enhanced and set off by doing less with more. For a rainy and chilly Saturday night dinner, nothing could be simpler than this pasta dish: hearty enough to stave off the cold and made deliciously seasonal with those wonderful greens. But hurry…summer is almost here, and those wild green things that are spring’s harbingers will once again disappear.

Orrechiette with Fiddleheads, Wild Ramps and Spot Prawns
serves two

When I was searching for a recipe to use my greens, a quick internet search led me to one of my favourite blogs: Marc Matsumoto’s No Recipes, with fabulous simple-to-make recipes and even better photography. His take on this pasta dish calls for lots of freshly grated cheese. Instead, I chose to use wild spot prawns and give the dish a bright briny flavour, perfect to complement the deep green of fiddleheads and wild ramps, and added some of my house cured pancetta for extra complexity.

1 c fiddleheads, cleaned thoroughly
8 oz orecchiette pasta
1 tsp extra virgin olive oil, plus 1 tbsp
2 oz fresh pancetta, diced
½ lb. wild ramps, white and pink parts only, chopped
10 spot prawns, shelled and deveined
½-1 cup good quality tomato sauce (the thicker the sauce, the less you should use)

Be sure to seek out distinctive - and distinctively flavoured - spot prawns for a real taste of the sea. We get ours from Fisherfolk

1. Rinse fiddleheads thoroughly in cold water and trim any brown ends. In a medium pot, steam until tender-crisp, about 8-10 minutes. Rinse in cold water and set aside.

2. While fiddleheads are cooking, begin cooking pasta according to pasta directions, until just al dente. Drain and reserve 1 cup of cooking liquid. Stir a tsp of olive oil through pasta to keep from sticking, and set aside.

3. Heat oil over medium heat in a medium pot and sauté pancetta until lightly browned. Add the wild ramps and sauté for two minutes. Add the fiddleheads and the prawns, and cook until the prawns are just cooked through and opaque.

Reserve the leafy green tops for your morning omelette

4. Add the pasta and tomato sauce, and stir to combine, adding some of the cooking water if needed to ensure the pasta is evenly coated with sauce. The sauce is meant to complement, not overwhelm, the dish. Serve in two shallow heated bowls with a crisp cold Riesling.

Just Ducky - Duck Prosciutto and Rapini Crostini with Buratta

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Mon, 02 May 2011 21:32:00 +0000

My niece is a declared vegetarian. Starting first with meat, and not much of a seafood eater, it’s been a process of food group elimination, driven as much, if not more, by personal taste as by philosophy. Things got complicated when, at 13, she expressed an interest in a career as a chef, as she knew that going through culinary school would be well nigh impossible without eating – or at least tasting – meat.

While the culinary career has long been abandoned in the pursuit of a business degree (captains of industry being much more likely to make millions than a chef), I think I’ve always known that someday, meat would make a comeback in her diet. But even I wasn’t prepared for her casual announcement one day that, indeed, she had started eating meat again. Specifically salume and prosciutto. But, she was quick to assure me, she was still a vegetarian otherwise.

As I continue my adventures in meat curing via Charcutepalooza this year, I offer up this dish in honour of my not-quite-a-vegetarian niece. I don’t know that a steak is on her horizon any time soon, but I’ll gladly sit down to a meal of charcuterie with her any time.

Duck Prosciutto and Rapini Crostini with Burrata

This duck prosciutto was the first Charcutepalooza challenge, and was what convinced me that there wasn’t any great mystery to curing meats other than patience, lots of salt and a trusted guide. The guide comes in the form of Michael Ruhlman’s Charcuterie. And while you’ll have to buy the book to find out how to make the prosciutto (or take the easy route and just buy some readymade), I’ll gladly share my crostini recipe with you here.

1 bunch rapini (broccoli rabe), trimmed, washed and chopped
1 large clove garlic
¼ c chicken stock or water
I tbsp olive oil, plus ½ cup
1 small French baguette
8 oz ounces duck prosciutto, thinly sliced
1 lb burrata cheese
Maldon or other finishing salt

1. Heat 1 tbsp olive oil over medium high heat in a medium non stick skillet. Mince garlic sauté quickly in oil; be careful not to brown. Add rapini, chicken stock or water; lower heat to medium, cover and saute until rapini is tender-crisp. Remove from heat, drain any remaining liquid and set aside.

2. Slice baguette on the diagonal into ½ inch slices, brush each slide with olive and grilled or broil until lightly browned. Set aside.

3. Using a serrated knife, slice the burrata cheese into thick slices and set aside.

4. Place a generous tablespoon or two of sautéed rapini on each baguette piece. Place a couple of slices of duck prosciutto on top of the rapini, add a slice of burrata and finish with a generous pinch of Maldon salt.

Toronto Bakes for Japan - Spread the Word!

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Sun, 03 Apr 2011 03:54:00 +0000

Thanks to the fabulous work of Heena and Niya at Tiffin Tales, the entire city is banding together to bake and raise funds for Japan in the aftermath of the terrible tsunami.

I'll be participating on April 10 by baking up a storm of mini fennel-olive oil bread loaves to sell. You can participate too - even if it's by buying some of the delicious products that will be available for sale at five locations across the city.

Read more here and help out if you can.

Salad Days: Spanish Green Salad with Tuna and Beans

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Tue, 08 Mar 2011 10:00:00 +0000

I dream about having the perfect pantry. One that produces, as if by magic, exactly the right ingredient when I need it. Walnut oil, say, or canned escargots. Clam juice, hearts of palm, Picholine olives. That je ne sais quoi needed to finish a dish, add an unexpected touch, make a dish genius instead of just good.

And then I make something simple for dinner, with every ingredient on hand, and the can opener close by. Really good quality canned tuna. Mixed beans. Sherry vinegar and excellent olive oil. A blend of greens. Finishing salt and lots of freshly ground black pepper. In any sort of combination, this rustic and simple salad is a reminder that the basics in your pantry really can combine to make a perfect dish. And that, my friends, is genius.

Spanish Green Salad with Tuna and Beans
serves one very generously for dinner, or two if you add good crusty bread and butter and lots of crisp white wine

Why Spanish? While this type of salad can be typically be found in Italy, I've given it a twist en Espanol by using Ortiz tuna, Spanish sherry vinegar and Spanish olive oil. The tuna is premium, and hard to find here; I bought this 250 gr can in London for the equivalent of $9.66. It's line caught, packed in olive oil and worth seeking out.

According to a Spanish proverb, four people are needed to make a good salad: a spendthrift for oil, a miser for vinegar, a counsellor for salt, and a madman to stir all up

4-6 cups mixed greens: a combination of sturdy crunchy greens like romaine hearts and spicy soft greens, like baby arugula
1 250-gram can of tuna packed in olive oil
½ c mixed beans
Sherry vinegar and olive oil to taste
Plenty of freshly ground black pepper
Maldon salt, or other large and flaky finishing salt

1. I a large bowl, tear romaine leaves into bite size pieces. Add a couple of handfuls of arugula. You can also add a small amount of micro-greens: I used super-healthy micro broccoli greens. Toss to combine.

The layering effect of coarse to micro is very pretty

2. Drain the tuna and add to the salad, breaking any bigger chunks into smaller pieces as you do. Top with the beans. Add the vinegar and olive oil to taste, and finish with a generous sprinkling of pepper. Toss to combine.

3. Divide between two plates, season generously with salt and serve.

The Pig and I: Pancetta Cups with Duck Eggs for Charcutepalooza

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Tue, 22 Feb 2011 05:09:00 +0000

I guess you could say my relationship with the venerable pig began when I was kid. I can’t remember exactly how old I was when I saw my first dead pig, but I can say with certainty where it was: in our basement. Every year, my father would buy a pig, sharing the cost with several friends. Without warning, there it would be: hanging in the basement, mute and huge and, well, dead.

Funny about that – while I can remember those pigs, and the very first time I dared to touch one, I can’t ever remember being afraid or repulsed. I knew, even back then, that the pig would yield all manner of good things. And because it was there, in the house, it seemed normal; just another thing that my parents did, like making bushels of tomatoes into sauce, ravioli by hand, or batch after batch of pannetone, the golden loaves filling the small kitchen table. Didn’t every family butcher their own pig?

The ritual was the same. The long trestle table would come out, and the men would gather in the basement, working throughout the day to butcher the pig and divide the spoils. Our wine cellar, dank and dark and smelling of earth, would be the beneficiary of the day’s work. Hanging over the demijohns where we were sent to get the evening’s bottle of wine were the sausages and the salamis. Into the freezer went the pork chops and ribs. I don’t exactly know where we kept the musetto, that peculiarly Italian squat sausage that my mother would cook in hearty minestrone thick with beans, but I do know that I miss the taste of it still.

My father, preparing charcoal for an impromptu barbecue in the park

Of course, I didn’t exactly hang around for the butchering part. But the space of years and distance and parents long gone makes me yearn for a time machine, one that could bring me back to that basement, those days, that ritual.

Fast forward to today, where I still revere the pig and all its glorious parts, never really thinking about making more than a roast or ribs. And then I read about Charcutepalooza. Cue the angels singing and the clouds parting. Could I, would I dare myself to make my own prosciutto, pancetta and bacon? Damn right I would!

Late to the game, I’ve been furiously salting duck breasts and pork belly. The extra fridge in the basement has been divested of its bottles of wine and turned into a curing spot. Cheesecloth and butcher twine bought, curing salt procured, jubilation abounding.

And finally, my first Charcutepalooza post, featuring duck eggs cooked in pancetta cups with mushrooms, parsley and cheese. Never has a dish tasted more satisfying, or connected me more to my heritage. My father would be proud.

For this Charcutepalooza challenge, I chose to make the pancetta. The pork belly, from Cumbrae's, was one gorgeous piece of pig.

Richard was away, so rolling the belly solo was impossible. Here's the belly after curing for seven days, wrapped and hung flat

Beautiful marbling for my first pancetta attempt!

Duck Eggs in Pancetta Cups with Porcini Mushrooms and Cheese
serves two or four

These little eggs cups can either form the main course of breakfast meal or be a mini side dish for a brunch. Serve two per person if they are the main event. They're baked in steps, to allow each element of the dish to cook to perfection.

½ lb piece pancetta (not sliced)
3  oz dried porcini mushrooms
1 small garlic clove, minced
2 tbsp chopped parsley, divided
½  tbsp each unsalted butter and olive oil
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper
4 duck or chicken eggs
2 oz hard goat cheese, cut into thin 2 " strips

1. Preheat oven to 400°F, with the rack in the middle position.

2. Reconstitute the mushrooms in 2 c boiling water for 20 minutes.

3. While the mushrooms are reconstituting, slice the pancetta into 4 ⅛-inch x 4-inch strips.  Grease 4 of the cups in a regular muffin tin, and line them with the pancetta, around the sides and the bottom. Set aside. Separate the eggs, being careful not to break the yolks. Set the yolks aside in their shells, and put the egg whites in a pourable measuring cup.

4. When the mushrooms are ready, drain, rinse and chop finely. Heat the butter and oil over medium heat in a small skillet, and when the foam subsides, add the garlic. Sauté, stirring, for a minute and then add the mushrooms and one tbsp of parsley. Continue sautéing, stirring, until the ingredients meld and are fragrant, about two minutes more.

5. Add a generous tablespoon of the porcini mixture to each cup. Divide the egg whites between the cups. Place the muffin tin in the oven and bake for 10-12 minutes, or until the egg whites are just set.* Take the tin out of the oven, top each cup with an egg yolk and put back in the oven, baking a further 2 minutes.

*Duck egg whites are particularly unctuous and take longer to cook.  If you are using regular eggs, you may want to bake the pancetta cups for five minutes first, and then add the mushrooms and egg whites and shorten the baking time for the egg whites. The important thing is to allow the various layers to cook thoroughly without overcooking the eggs.

6. Take the tray out, top with the cheese, and broil for 5 minutes, or until the cheese is melted and bubbly. Sprinkle the remaining parsley on top of each cup.

7. To serve, scoop the cups out carefully with spoon and place one or two of the cups on a serving plate. Serve with hot buttered toast to dip into the egg yolk, which will be creamy and thick.

Something Fishy: Halibut with Meyer Lemon, Olives and Fennel

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Fri, 18 Feb 2011 10:00:00 +0000

It’s a funny thing about seasonality. We tend to associate that with the abundance of summer and fall, when Nature spoils us with an

embarrassment of riches. Winter is a crueler time, stoic and practically begging for the hearty dishes that fill and nourish us. But even now there's a seasonality uniquely of the moment that makes lighter dishes and tastes possible and welcome.

I’m thinking about Meyer lemons a lot these days. I hope they won’t become a year round thing; foods should be savoured for their fleeting appearance, valued because they are that much more uncommon. And there’s something about these sunny lemons that makes me think of the Mediterranean: of lazy afternoons, warmth and indolence. I'm thinking of myself sitting at a café table for one, the mysterious woman with the fabulous hat and Jackie O shades, delicately eating a light and tasty fish dish that’s drenched with lemons, olives, fennel. I’m thinking I just might make this for dinner again tonight.

Halibut with Lemon, Olives and Fennel
serves two

1 lb halibut fillet
2 Meyer lemons, thinly sliced
1 fennel bulb, trimmed and thinly sliced, fronds reserved*
½ to ¾ c assorted good quality Mediterranean olives
2½ c olive oil
Fine sea salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
A good finishing salt, such as Maldon (optional)

Poaching firm fleshed fish in olive oil and cooking in a low heat oven is a wonderful way to prepare halibut. Surprising, the oil doesn’t absorb into the fish at all.

1. Preheat the oven to 250F°. Rinse and pat the fish dry and season with salt and pepper. Use a light hand with the salt; the olives will add to the dish's saltiness. Set aside.

2. Line a shallow glass baking dish with fennel fronds. Top with a layer of the lemons and then a layer of fennel slices. Place the fish on top.

You can't have too many fronds at the bottom of the dish; supplement with the celery-like stalks in a pinch

3. Sprinkle the olives on top and around the fish. Add another layer of lemons and fennel slices. Carefully pour the olive oil into the dish until the fish is almost completely submerged.

Don't worry about the olive brine getting into the dish

Note the the oil is not covering the lemons and fennel, but is covering the fish

4. Bake in the middle rack of the oven for one hour, or until the fish is flaky. To serve, remove the fish from the dish with a slotted spoon and divide amongst two plates. Garnish with the lemon and fennel slices and the olives. Add a pinch of Maldon salt to finish the dish, if desired. Just be careful about the overall saltiness of the dish.

5. Pour a glass of Alsatian Pinot Gris, don your most fabulous hat and dream of the Mediterranean while you eat.

*Regarding fennel fronds. I got lucky when I went to Fiesta Farms for the fennel; Serge in produce was just trimming a big crate of fennel for restocking. If you can sweetly wheedle a bag of the discarded frond tops, they make an excellent lining for fish dishes, as I've used them here, or to stuff into whole salmon. If you really want to capitalise on an unexpected bounty of fronds, mince and measure the feathery greens into three tbsp portions and freeze in little baggies to have ready to make Fennel-Olive Oil Quick Bread.

Now I'm Stylin': The Stylish Blogger Award

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Sun, 13 Feb 2011 03:22:00 +0000

A few days ago laxsupermom from Sugar n Spice in the land of Balls n Sticks nominated my blog for a “Stylish Blogger Award”. It was only when I started reading about other SBA nominees that I realized this wasn’t just a nice way of saying “I like your blog”. When I accept the award, I need to tell you seven things about myself, give the award to 15 other fab blogs (and bloggers) that I love, and a shout out to the person who nominated me.

So, first, thank you laxSM, for your nice nomination!

Sugar n Spice in the land of Balls n Sticks

And without further ado, here are seven random things about me.

1. I have (ahem) a bit of a shoe weakness

Sadly these are not my shoes but a girl can dream

2. And can generally find something to buy even if I’m in the middle of nowhere – I *love* to shop

Who do you suppose shops at this Prada store?

3. We don’t own a TV

When we get one I want it to be MASSIVE

4. But I still manage to be addicted to Glee

Sue Sylvester rocks; or at least that's how I "c" it

5. I collect cookbooks - obsessively

How many is too many, really?

6. And a couple of my recipes have appeared in a best-selling cookbook

If you don't own this cookbook, you should

7. Did I mention I like food?
...but you knew that already

There are so many fabulous blogs out there, it’s hard to choose just 15 to highlight. So here’s a random list of food blogs that make my mouth water, make me laugh, or just plain entertain me. I hope you visit them and enjoy them too.

Art & Lemons

the peche

Good Food, Good Wine and a Bad Girl

Well Preserved

Honest Fare

Passionate About Baking

Bramasole…to yearn for the sun

Foy Update

Fabiolous Cooking Day

Quit Eating Out

I Sicilian

Sweet Winter Sunshine: Marmalade Two Ways

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Thu, 10 Feb 2011 10:00:00 +0000

There is something deeply satisfying about eating an orange in the dead of winter. The juicy flesh defies the snowscape outside, and the sweet and sometimes tangy taste is an antidote to Mother Nature's heavy grey skies.

Sure, you can buy an orange any time of the year, but now is the time to savour the fleeting season of the best of citrus fruits. Seville oranges, with scarred and angry skin; delicate Meyer lemons, sweet and so deeply hued as to be almost orange; and my personal favourite, blood oranges, with their shockingly deep red flesh.

I wanted to capture the essence of this sunshine season in the only way we can: through preserving. I began experimenting with preserves and canning last autumn, and was immediately hooked. Science meets nature in an alchemy that's part art, part magic. The best part is that you know you're participating in a practice that has changed only slightly in hundreds of years.

What better gift to give the season's citrus than honouring them in a pretty jar? Here are two takes that will make your toast - and tummy - happy.

Blood Orange Marmalade

yields approx eight 250-ml jars

Marmalade came to its present incarnation in Scotland hundreds of years ago, but took hold more slowly in other parts of the world. Today, orange marmalade is often part of the triumvirate of jams gracing the breakfast table. Its combination of intense peel and jam is just the right taste to highlight a freshly toasted slice of bread slathered with butter. But don't forget to use it as the Scots do, on everything from roast meats to desserts.

3 lbs blood oranges

Water

6 cups sugar

Note: Marmalade typically calls for 1 cup of sugar to 1 cup of liquid. You can use this formula as a guideline for all types of marmalade. For a fuller explantation of the science of canning, refer to my post on plum jam, which has a step-by-step tutorial on how to can.

1. Wash the oranges thoroughly, soaking in hot water if needed to remove dirt from the skin. Trim the tops and bottoms of the oranges and score the peel in several large strips. Remove the peel, reserving the fruit. With a serrated spoon or sharp knife, remove as much pith as possible from the peel.

2. In a large stainless steel pot, place the peel and fill with water to cover. Bring to a boil and continue cooking at a boil for 10 minutes. Drain and repeat, boiling the peel for a further 10 minutes. Drain and let cool slightly. Cut the peel into thin strips, no more than ⅛ in thick. Set aside.

3. With a very sharp knife, trim membrane from reserved fruit. Remove as much membrane as possible, and cut the segments into small dice. Place the fruit and the reserved peel in a large stainless steel pot, add 1 litre water and bring to a boil. Boil gently for approx 30 minutes, or until peel is soft when squeezed. Measure the marmalade; you should have about 6 cups of marmalade mixture.

4. Return the marmalade to a large stainless steel pot, and bring to a boil. For every cup of marmalade, add 1 cup of sugar, stirring each cupful in until it is fully incorporated. Boil until the marmalade reaches gel stage, about 12 minutes. Be careful not to overboil the mixture.

5. Skim marmalade if needed, cool slightly, can and boil for 10 minutes. Cool marmalade and store for the long winter ahead.

Lemon-Scented Orange and Ginger Marmalade

yields approx 10 250-ml jars

2 lbs Seville oranges
2 lemons
1 oz fresh ginger
3 ½ qts water
4 oz crystallised ginger, finely diced
4 ½ lb sugar

1. Wash the Seville oranges thoroughly, soaking in hot water if needed to remove dirt from the skin. Halve the oranges and lemons and squeeze the juice out. Strain the juice into a bowl, reserving the seeds.

2. Strip the flesh from the oranges and lemons, reserving, and slice the rinds into thin strips. Place the reserved seed and pulp into cheesecloth, tie with kitchen twine and set aside.

The pectin's in the pith

3. In a large stainless steel pot, combine the orange and lemon peel, the cheesecloth and the water. Bring to a boil and simmer until the peel is very soft, at least two hours.

Blood orange marmalade in front; Seville orange marmalade in the rear

4. Remove the cheesecloth bag, stir in the candied ginger and the sugar. When the sugar has dissolved, boil until the marmalade is at gel stage, about 30 minutes.

5. Take the marmalade off the heat, cool slightly, then can and simmer for 10 minutes.

Vive la France: Soupe à l’Onion Gratinée

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Mon, 31 Jan 2011 10:00:00 +0000

Winter is comfort food time, and does anyone do comfort food better than the French? Hearty cassoulets, coq au vin, lamb navarin, fricassée, tarte tatin – classic bistro fare that warms the stomach and soothes the soul.

About this time of year, Richard goes to Paris on business and when he returns, he is full of stories of meals eaten and meals savoured; new favourites found and old haunts revisited. It makes me hungry for a taste of France, and nothing is more satisfying than a bubbling bowl of French onion soup, served straight from the oven.

French Onion Soup
serves 6

Here’s my take on the French classic. I like to use a mix of beef and veal stock for extra richness, and to grill the bread for an added smoky flavour.

2 tbsp unsalted butter
2 tbsp plus ¼ c olive oil
4 large cooking onions, peeled and finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 bay leaf (preferably fresh)
2 sprigs fresh thyme
½ c Madeira
6 c beef stock (or a combination of beef and veal stock)
1 tsp fine sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper
12 slices French bread
¾ lb grated Gruyere cheese, grated
6 ovenproof French onion soup bowls

1. In a large stockpot, melt the butter in the olive oil over medium high heat. When the foam subsides, add the onion, lower heat to medium and sauté for fifteen minutes, stirring to keep the onions from sticking.

2. Add the garlic, bay leaf and thyme. Continuing sautéing and stirring until the onions are a deep golden colour. Turn heat to high, add the Madeira and cook for an additional two minutes, stirring frequently, until most of the wine has boiled off.

3. Add the beef stock, salt and pepper, bring the soup to a boil, and lower to a simmer. Cover and simmer over low heat for 30 minutes more.

4. While the soup is simmering, prepare the bread and preheat the oven to the broil setting. Brush the bread slices with olive oil and broil (or grill), turning to brown evenly. Set aside.

I love the convenience of our indoor grill for quick and easy grilling

5. When the soup has finished simmering, check and adjust the salt and pepper to taste. Place two slices of bread in each bowl, and ladle in enough soup to barely cover the bread. Sprinkle each bowl with a generous amount of Gruyere. Set the oven rack to the middle position. Place the bowls on a baking sheet, put in the oven, and broil until the cheese has melted and is bubbly and slightly brown, about 3-5 minutes.

Be generous with the cheese but not overly so; the ingredients should all play in balance with one another

6. Serve it forth piping hot for a delicious and satisfying winter dish.

Delish Dish: Kale and Goat Cheese Omelette

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Thu, 20 Jan 2011 11:00:00 +0000

Baby, it's cold outside. The Stop's farmers’ market is near-deserted on Saturday, both vendors and customers choosing to stay home rather than battle the January storm brewing outside. I come home without the usual bulging bags, my slim pickings reflecting not just the lack of supply but the season. Cold storage Ambrosia apples from Bizjak Farms; Blossom goat cheese from Monforte Dairy; deliciously fresh eggs from Irina at Bees Universe; and my most treasured find: black kale, the famous Cavolo Nero of Tuscan cuisine, from one of the many small independent vendors the market supports.

It may not be much, but it’s the perfect combination of ingredients to make a good old fashioned hot breakfast. When the thermostat dips to way below zero, there’s nothing better than a tummy full of good food. I buy enough kale to get me through a week’s worth of warming breakfasts. Finished it off with an Ambrosia apple, it’s a most delicious winter morning feast.

Kale and Goat Cheese Omelette
serves one

Purists - please note - I am sure this is not the "correct" method for omelette making. But it works for me. I buy kale in large quantities and prep it all at once so that it's ready in the fridge when I am. Fresh kale can also be frozen.

2 c fresh kale, washed, trimmed and chopped into three inch lengths
4 tsp olive oil
¼ c low sodium chicken stock or water
½ tbsp Shichimi-Togarashi* (see note), or substitute a blend of taosted sesame seeds, chili pepper flakes, black pepper and ½ tsp grated orange zest
¼ c soft goat cheese, mixed with ½ tsp grated lemon zest
2 whole eggs
2 egg whites
½ tbsp unsalted butter

1. Prepare the kale. In a large non-stick skillet, heat 2 tsp of the olive oil over medium-high heat. Add the chopped kale and stir for a few minutes. Add the chicken stock and the Shichimi-Togarashi, continuing to stir, until the kale is wilted but still has some crunch. Remove from heat and set aside.

2. In a small non-stick skillet, heat the remaining oil and butter over medium heat. When the butter foams, break the two eggs into the pan, and add the two egg whites. Swirl the eggs with a fork to break up the yolk, and season to taste with salt and pepper. Cook the eggs, lifting the edges with a spatula to distribute the eggs and cook them further.

3. When the eggs are set but still soft, place the goat cheese in dollops over the eggs. Add the kale, covering the entire surface of the eggs. With a spatula, gently fold the eggs over to form an omelette.

Eggs are setting but still soft

Hard to see the goat cheese...but it's there!

4. Cover the skillet with a lid, reduce heat to low and let cook for a couple of minutes more.

Serves one very grateful diner.

*Shichimi-Togarashi is a wonderfully complex seven spice blend that gives dishes deeply subtle nuances of flavour. It's a medium-spicy blend of seven ingredients: black sesame seeds; the dried peel of the unshu mikan (Satsuma orange); Japanese sansho pepper; dried capsicum; roasted dry capsicum; hemp seeds and poppy seeds. Shichimi-Togarashi is available online and is worth seeking out.

Healthy Eats: Rest-of-the-turkey Soup

noreply@blogger.com (Eliz) — Sun, 02 Jan 2011 22:19:00 +0000

I hope you saved the rest of the turkey. Maybe the bones are in your freezer, with the delicious meat carefully wrapped and stored separately. You're tired of turkey sandwiches, a turkey casserole feels like too much work, and frankly, turkey hash just doesn't sound appealing.

Why not make a warming and deeply satisfying soup? The perfect antidote to rich and over-indulgent holiday eating, this soup is a meal in a bowl, and also freezes well. Richard is the soup maker in the family, and he's perfected this recipe, an old favourite of mine from Weight Watchers. He also loves eating turkey year-round, so don't wait until the holidays to make this. Take advantage of the fresh turkey parts that are always available.

Richard's Turkey-Vegetable Soup
serves 6-8

2 c cooked turkey meat, white and dark meat combined OR one fresh turkey thigh or breast, diced*
¼ c olive oil
2¼ c thinly sliced shitake mushrooms
2 c sliced carrots
4 garlic cloves, minced
2¼ c baby spinach leaves, washed
1 c sliced celery
8 c low-sodium chicken stock (or homemade turkey stock from those bones)
¼ c parsley
Salt and pepper to taste

*If using fresh turkey meat, add the turkey in step one, along with the mushrooms, carrots and garlic, and then proceed with recipe.

1. In a large stockpot, heat olive oil over medium-high heat. Add mushrooms, carrots and garlic, and saute, stirring constantly, until just tender, about five minutes.

Shitake mushrooms add a delicious flavour to this soup

2. Add celery and spinach and cook for another two or three minutes, until spinach is just wilted. If using cooked turkey, add at this point, stir to combine, and then add chicken stock. Bring to a boil, turn off heat, stir in parsley, and serve.*

*If using fresh turkey, simmer the soup for an additional five to 10 minutes, or until turkey is cooked through.