tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8927856853156890972024-12-19T04:31:27.711+01:00a pollysplayground food.blogpollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-67980382845363828792011-12-16T12:58:00.002+01:002011-12-16T17:16:29.648+01:00

Back in the day (which, thanks to my non-native English speaking friend who once stopped me in mid-conversation to ask why I always talk about "bacon days", is now and forever referred to as such) I worked in the produce department at our local grocery store.  My shifts were spent sweeping up onion skins, promising customers that we honestly weren't hiding more tomatoes in storage and

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-36458308764971157902011-12-12T22:32:00.000+01:002011-12-12T22:32:22.375+01:00

My greatest pleasure during the holiday season has always come from creating special edibles to pass around to my nearest and dearest.  Adhering to the adage 'the more, the merrier' (because, what better way to be at Christmas time than merry?), what began, way back when, with a single batch of peanut butter fudge grew, over time, to a gross amount of gastronomic goodies as I continually

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-84001643343256357402011-11-26T22:34:00.001+01:002011-12-06T21:00:40.848+01:00

Is the clock dangerously close to dinner time and you still have no idea what to make?  Need something to eat before you run out the door to avoid dying of starvation later?  Don't feel like cooking but really want something to eat?  My favourite go-to meal has always been quesadilla.  Throw something on a tortilla, add cheese, fold, fry, serve with lettuce, salsa and sour

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-85101452112935691152011-11-20T19:36:00.002+01:002011-12-06T20:59:00.028+01:00

I'm a big fan of cabbage rolls.  I'm not a big fan of making cabbage rolls.  Okay, honestly?  I've never actually made cabbage rolls... (no, that wasn't me, that was Saša who made the sarma); just thinking about the process of individually stuffing cabbage leaves completely puts me off.  I prefer to practice a literal approach to comfort food; I seek comfort while the food

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-66500625965603176392011-06-16T10:44:00.001+02:002011-12-06T21:03:51.575+01:00

Have you ever wondered what to do with a daikon radish?  Yeah... me too!  I've always grated them for green salads; but, with our own pretty patch of white icicles growing in the garden, thought I'd try to dig a little deeper and do something new.  With such a solid, strong bite (not quite the kick of a horse, but definitely a good punch in the mouth) it would be a shame to not use

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-54327588180267697542011-06-13T20:12:00.000+02:002011-06-13T20:12:10.203+02:00

I was always one of those kids who, when dining out, would stalk every cocktail drinker at the table for their maraschino cherry.  I was also one of those kids who, when lucky enough to be served a cherry in her mocktail, would snatch it quickly off the top and pop it in her mouth like a pre-drink appetizer, then watch as her sister would leisurely sip away at her drink, cherry falling lower

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-81196964279430958172011-05-25T11:51:00.002+02:002011-12-06T21:04:50.328+01:00

Sometimes I'm completely backwards with my meal planning method. Instead of taking meat from the freezer and finding something to accompany it, I will decide I'm in the mood for, say, pineapple, and then work out a meal to incorporate it. Such was the situation a few days ago when I found myself at the market, blindsided by a basket of beautiful beans. green and gorgeous But this is not

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-57979857084322089932011-05-18T12:02:00.002+02:002011-12-06T21:08:26.217+01:00

The other day I received a call from a friend who had invited us for dinner asking if we prefer chicken or fish.  After refusing my response of "whatever you wish to serve", she insisted that, in taking the time to ask, I should understand why it is so important for her to know.  She wanted to avoid any awkward moments at the table and to ensure that our meal together was enjoyable

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-12456442371599137792011-05-14T12:47:00.006+02:002011-05-18T08:34:53.761+02:00

Last week I came down with a serious case of sad apples and, aware that the symptoms of shriveling skin and spreading soft spots would only increase if ignored, I needed a treatment - fast.  Unfortunately, two flats of applesauce are already stored in our basement (not exactly unfortunate; it is excellent applesauce, hence the two flats).  Wanting to avoid traditional medicine, I

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-29289250388711303142011-05-05T16:57:00.005+02:002011-12-06T21:14:30.214+01:00

I have fairly good list of reasons why I've been away, but I'd much rather talk about why I'm back. Radishes. fresh start Spring finally brought the sun and, with that, Saša and I decided to take on the task of reviving the disappearing garden.  We (ok, he) went to work with leveling the tragically overgrown patch, turning the soil and placing perfect rows of bricks to create a

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-1763312471078091262010-05-24T22:21:00.002+02:002011-12-06T21:15:26.151+01:00

One of my favorite things about island life is the abundant supply of lemons and, with our own little tree in the garden, the availability of freshly squeezed juice just mere steps away.  As a long time lover of lemons (and generally all things tart), I've been using them wherever I possibly can.  Lemonade, cake, chicken, rice, bars, tea, fish... The list goes on, yet still I continue

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-32405327129143520822010-05-15T10:57:00.003+02:002011-12-06T21:21:12.331+01:00

For almost seven months I have been tortilla free.  This is not a lifestyle choice, it is a situation of circumstance.  On the odd occasion that I do find a package for purchase, at more-than-meat prices for a small bag of eight, I've been forced to go without (aside from the ones my sister sent at Christmas!) for the duration of my island life. Last October, when I first learned of

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-8531132036635355742010-05-09T19:13:00.002+02:002011-12-06T21:40:36.644+01:00

On our last trip to the "big" market, we bought a large jar of blackberries and, while I typically find the preserving liquid too sweet or the fruit too mushy in factory processed canned fruit, I was extremely impressed with both the quality and the flavour. These whole, firm berries, preserved in their own juice without added sweeteners were a surprise find indeed. After eating most of the

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-46353275095232982852010-05-05T17:48:00.002+02:002011-12-06T21:41:40.493+01:00

The other day, while chatting with my friend Jeff, he happened to mention the big basket of chips he was currently eating for dinner. "Fries?" I asked, seeking some confirmation which could allow me to conjure up the proper visual as, in addition to countless global chat discussions, my recent travels have taught me that the (sometimes) translation of fries into chips and chips into crisps can

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-83335017671352599012010-05-02T12:24:00.002+02:002011-12-06T21:42:45.755+01:00

I know. For those of you who listened in on my conversation (not) about coconut, the suspense is killing you.  "Did she ever make that loaf?" you wonder anxiously, refreshing the page at a constant interval in anticipation of the real coconut post.  Ego aside, it's likely you're not; however, I do know that my sister is.  I think I've kept her hanging long enough. As you may or

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-9853962207959790622010-04-29T19:22:00.002+02:002011-12-06T21:43:30.036+01:00

Sometimes deciding what to make for dinner is somewhat of a backwards task.  I never seem to say, "lets have chicken" and then figure out what to make with it.  No, instead it's more like, "I feel like gravy" or "sauteed mushrooms would be nice" and then build a meal from there.  This happened the other day while staring at my overabundance of apples which, unlike my disappearing

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-2088761993551507172010-04-24T21:41:00.001+02:002011-05-18T08:01:28.812+02:00

If your house is like my house, the most difficult part about baking anything with bananas is keeping bananas in the house long enough for them to become over ripe and perfect for baking.  It doesn't matter if we buy a bunch of four (two to eat plus two for baking) or six (four to eat plus two for baking) or eight... they are always gobbled up in their prime which results in an inevitable "

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-13170325717194793622010-04-22T20:10:00.001+02:002011-05-18T07:54:34.553+02:00

Some time ago my sister and I were having one of our lengthy reply/send email sessions (I really don't know why we don't use instant messaging...) which began with the topic of coconut.  During our exchange, she sent along a recipe for Coconut Bread and claimed that, toasted and drizzled with butter, it was simply to die for.  I was immediately sold on the idea, but sadly informed her

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-75871429790455470302010-04-12T13:17:00.001+02:002011-05-18T08:00:34.806+02:00

A few weeks ago I wrote about solving my own grocery day dilemma which prompted Andrew to respond with a comment about his (self-proclaimed) weird tuna concoction involving apples and onions. I was intrigued. half apple on cutting board I have an odd relationship with onions.  I like them cold and raw (preferably minced very fine) or cooked, at the very least, to a completely softened

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-67768742168670603162010-04-06T21:38:00.002+02:002011-11-20T12:10:11.231+01:00

As much as technology allows me to stay connected with family and feel close to home, there are certain moments when I am reminded of the distance between.  My best friend got married last week and, after sharing more than twenty five years worth of monumental moments, I was suddenly stuck on the other side of the world.  Refusing to let thousands of kilometers keep me from celebrating

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-64323533585294571212010-03-29T22:50:00.001+02:002011-05-18T07:52:47.527+02:00

Any true Canadian knows that the only real way to make mac 'n' cheese involves a "remove pouch from box" step and that it is served either one of two ways; with or without ketchup.  It is our babysitters' saviour, our hockey moms' helper and every college's dorm room norm.  No, it is not the same as your Kraft Macaroni & Cheese or your Cheesey Pasta; to do it right it's 'Gotta Be KD

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-286188626747515042010-03-23T21:11:00.001+01:002011-05-18T07:52:09.456+02:00

Growing up, I couldn't fathom why friends would forgo slumber parties for their dad's deep dish lasagna, I didn't understand perpetual arguments over whose grandmother made better sauce and I felt utterly betrayed by my sister when she chose The Old Spaghetti Factory (every time!) on family trips for dinner.  It's not that I didn't like pasta; it's just that I could easily deliver a list

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-48238143823713608412010-03-17T11:17:00.002+01:002011-12-06T21:46:41.144+01:00

Deviled Eggs have always been one of my favorite party foods. I'm actually embarrassed to admit how many times I've made a batch, only to have them eaten before any guests arrive (if they are gone before they get here, nobody knows they're missing, right?). Today it occurred to me that waiting for a social occasion to stuff some eggs seemed silly, so with three hard boiled on hand, I decided

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-49965094163641884152010-03-12T22:44:00.002+01:002011-05-18T08:57:47.479+02:00

There are no emergency M&Ms inside my desk drawers, hidden Cadbury Bars in couch cushions or handfuls of Chipits snatched from the baking supplies. I'm not in love with heart shaped boxes, don't hop for bunnies and make only one trip to the store for Halloween mini-bars. I don't have fantasies of swimming hot fudge oceans or start shaking at the mention of dark, milk or white. I know

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892785685315689097.post-66197376899991671022010-03-10T16:28:00.002+01:002011-12-06T21:47:22.349+01:00

There's a not-so-secret weapon lurking in pantries across the Americas; a superhero ingredient that makes our favorite comfort foods so 'Mmm, Mmm Good'.  It comes to our aid in kitchen emergencies and lends itself well to our cuisine creativity.  From quick weekday casseroles to traditional holiday fare, if you've got 'Cream of' something, you've got yourself a meal. stovetop

pollysplaygroundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05232973805375929369noreply@blogger.com2