The BEST Smoked Meat Sandwich

Introducing my annual Montreal Smoked Meat Sandwich. I only have it once a year because I gotta have it in Montreal and it's gotta be from Schwartz's....one of the two places in the world I will line up to eat at. Also because if I have it more frequently, I will probably die an untimely death (albeit with a smile on my face).

I always order the medium (this refers not to size of sandwich, but to fattiness of meat), with a dill pickle and a Black Cherry pop.

Boulevard St-Laurent

When I went to Schwartz's this summer with my mom and grandpa (he of the misplaced balls), we had the option of dining inside or outside. We just happened to be there during a giant sidewalk sale and street party taking place on St. Laurent from Sherbrooke all the way up to Mont Royal, so all the restaurants and cafes along that stretch had outdoor dining all set up. Schwartz's not only had tables and chairs outside under a huge awning, they also had a meat-steaming and slicing table, so for the first time I was able to see how my favourite sandwich is assembled.

In the end, however, we opted to eat inside like we always do. Part of the Schwartz's experience, after all, is waiting outside the door until the waiter lets you in; then, eating your sandwich crowded in at their narrow tables with complete strangers asking you to pass the salt and ketchup, everyone trying to pretend we're not all listening to each other's conversations.

Schwartz's recently celebrated its 80th year in business. It's become so much a part of the fabric of Montreal life that it's inspired a book and now, a musical. I can't remember how my family discovered it, but I do remember that my mom first lined up outside it, ankle-deep in snow, the winter my sister got married. At that time I refused to go. Little did I know what I was missing.

You can purchase entire Schwartz's smoked briskets - their front window is literally stacked with them - and many's the time I've flown back to Vancouver with a brisket safely stowed in my suitcase. But I've come to realize that the best way to enjoy this delectable meat is right in the restaurant, freshly sliced and nestled between slices of rye bread spread with yellow mustard. Pass the pickles, please.




The BEST Smoked Meat Sandwich




I'm back!

I'm working on a photo essay from my trip, which was an interesting mix of city and country. In the meantime here's a little collage to say hello. I love Queen Anne's Lace... so delicate and pretty. It's not too common here in British Columbia, but back east the roadsides are frothy with it.




I'm back!




Taking a blog break

Instead of a computer screen, this is what I'm going to be gazing at for the next two weeks.  

Enjoy the rest of the summer, and see you back here in September!




Taking a blog break




Coffee and Me: Our 10th Anniversary

This month it'll be ten years since I first went to Italy. My sister and I went to Rome with her boyfriend (now her husband) to meet his family. It was, as Anne of Green Gables would have said, an epoch in my life. Not only did I get to see the Eternal City, I also got introduced to, and fell in love with, coffee the Italian way. And as is usually the case with me and food, there's a story behind it.

We'll call this one, "Filipino Canadian West Coast Bumpkin Meets Sleek, Smart, Sophisticated Italian."

Our first morning in Rome, we woke to sunshine, fresh breezes blowing into the apartment, and the table set for breakfast. At my place I found a large mug, and directly in front of me, the cutest little coffee pot I ever did see.

On the table there was also a pitcher of steamed milk. So I thought, "Oh, they must have their morning coffee just like the South Americans do. Lots of hot milk."

So I poured milk into my mug, added all the coffee there was in the pot, and - after an eye-popping first sip - two or three spoonfuls of sugar.

A few minutes later, my sister's future father-in-law joined us at the table. The first thing he did was reach for the (empty) coffeepot.

Uh-oh.

He held the coffeepot expectantly over his cup, which I now ntoiced was way smaller than mine - smaller, even, than a demitasse. When nothing came out of the spout, he frowned a bit and tilted it a bit more. Then he looked over at me, and then from my guilt-stricken, embarrassed face, to my coffee cup. He didn't look annoyed, he looked amazed.

He said, "You like coffee."

By this time his younger son, Francesco, was in fits of laughter. All throughout the day he kept grinning at me, making owl-eyes and remarks about how I was going to sleep that night.

I slept excellently well, thank you very much.

After I got over my faux pas, I never enjoyed a cup of coffee more. Unknowingly I had made myself a cappuccino, minus the foam. The flavour was unlike any coffee I had ever had: rich and strong, but not bitter.

I had many cups of espresso - with or without milk - throughout those two weeks in Rome, and as you've probably guessed, I went home with my very own little Bialetti, a set of pretty little espresso cups, dainty as a child's tea-set, and a package or two of my host's coffee of choice, Lavazza, which happily I've been able to find in Canada.

I'm onto my second Bialetti now. (These little wonders are also available in Canada. In Vancouver, check out The Gourmet Warehouse or Bosa.) Small, quiet, unassuming, and amazingly efficient, it's my best friend in the morning. Sometimes I have quick shots of espresso, sometimes I add it to hot milk. The first sip always takes me back to breakfast in Italy, to the cat on the sunny balcony and the wind in the cypress trees. In a strange sort of way it wakes me up and slows me down at the same time...the secret of life, I think, that the Italians have learned and perfected, and the rest of us can only imitate.




Coffee and Me: Our 10th Anniversary




Sometimes the best meal is the simplest

Try this next time you come home tired and hungry: your favourite sausage and sliced sweet onions, grilled, fried or roasted in your toaster oven. Serve with a dollop of dijon mustard, a dinner roll, and - if you have it - an ice-cold beer.




Sometimes the best meal is the simplest




Pan-roasted Salmon and Asparagus with Garlic Aioli

Here's a deceptively delicious summer meal with a wow factor that's inversely proportional to the simplicity of the prep. Here's what makes it work:
Make the aioli in advance and keep it well-chilled in the fridge.
Get the asparagus spears ready by peeling or snapping off the woody ends.
Have some appies and drinks ready, and as your guests schmooze, heat up your frying pan. The main course will be ready to serve in 15 minutes.

For the aioli:
2 egg yolks
1 large garlic clove, crushed to a pulp with a good pinch of coarse salt
1/2 teaspoon mustard (I've used yellow and dijon; they both work)
1 cup extra-virgin olive oil
Juice of half a lemon

In a medium bowl, whisk together the egg yolks, garlic pulp, and mustard. Drizzle in a tiny bit of olive oil and whisk until the mixture emulsifies. Add the rest of the olive oil a drizzle at a time, whisking constantly, until thick. Add the lemon juice and stir well. Scrape the aioli into a pretty serving bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and stow in the fridge until ready to use.

For the salmon and asparagus:

6 salmon steaks, about an inch thick

24-30 spears of asparagus

1 tablespoon of butter

1 tablespoon of olive oil

salt and pepper

You will need a large frying pan with a lid. Place the olive oil in the pan over over medium-high heat.  Season the salmon steaks with salt and pepper and sear them on both sides, about a minute or two on each side.  Remove them to a plate.  Put the butter into the pan to melt and mix with the oil.  Place the asparagus spears into the pan with a good sprinkling of salt and shake everything around so the spears get coated with the butter and oil.  Place the salmon steaks on top of the asparagus. Cover the pan tightly with the lid. Cook for 5 minutes, then remove the lid and turn the steaks over. You might also want to roll over the asparagus spears so that they cook evenly. Don't worry if they start turning brown in spots. Put the lid back on for 3 more minutes or until the asparagus is tender but not mushy and the steaks are cooked through.

Serve immediately with the garlic aioli. 


Pan-roasted Salmon and Asparagus with Garlic Aioli




Urban Jungle series

What do Rome, Kansas City, and Vancouver have in common? They all have beautiful fountains. But I must say I like how the fountains of Vancouver are an organic part of the urban landscape. They flow down walls and steps, ripple gently into pools, and shimmer in the ever-changing light. Some of them are so unobtrusive, you almost walk into them before you notice they're there. The water is the main feature here, and the architectural lines are clean, straight, and simple rather than elaborate and ornate.




Urban Jungle series




Still Life with Egg




Still Life with Egg




Salt of the Earth

I could spend all day at the Gourmet Warehouse. Last weekend, when I took my sister there, we very nearly did. Wandering happily up and down the aisles, we lost all track of time, touching, looking, tasting, and exclaiming over things like toast tattoos, brownie popsicle moulds, and racks upon racks of baking tins, kitchen gadgets, beautifully shaped white tableware, spices, and salt (see above).

What better way to spend a Saturday?

When it came time to check out, we had to do some serious editing of our shopping cart. But we still managed to haul away quite a lot of loot...in matching stylish Gourmet Warehouse totes, of course.

Maria's Purchases
1 espresso cup with saucer and spoon
1 sugar bowl
1 oil and vinegar pitcher set (which I will use for coffee cream and maple syrup)
2 egg cups
2 bags MaxiMixed Roots Chips
1 baking tray with rack for my toaster oven
1 tin smoked sweet paprika
1 ice cream scoop

Cookie's Purchases
1 egg cup
1 espresso cup with saucer and spoon
1 set cookie cutters
1 bag Valrona dark chocolate chips
6 Weck mini-tulip jelly jars 


Salt of the Earth




Mashed potatoes and....cauliflower?

I would never have thought of mashing cauliflower, let alone adding it to mashed potatoes. But I was at a fancy banquet recently, wondering what was lending such a subtle flavour to the mashed potatoes, and the banquet organizer told me that the chef had told her it was cauliflower. Genius.

The chef wasn't about to reveal his recipe though, so I had to make up my own. The chives are my own addition, for a touch of green and even more flavour. Served it up last Saturday and BFF Berns said it was the best mashed potatoes she'd ever had. Then again, she could be biased. So try it yourself and see if you agree.

CHIVE MASHED POTATO AND CAULIFLOWER

4 large russet potatoes
1 head cauliflower, green parts removed
1/2 cup whole milk, half and half, or table cream, warmed
1/2 cup butter, melted
Bunch of chives, chopped (save buds for garnish)
Salt and pepper to taste

Peel and quarter the potatoes and put in a heavy bottomed pot along with the cauliflower florets and enough water to come halfway up the sides of the pot. Cover and bring to a boil, then lower heat slightly and cook until soft (about 1/2 hr-45 mins).

Remove from heat and drain off the liquid, but leave a little bit in.

Mash with a potato masher. Stir in the warmed milk or cream, melted butter, and chives. (Are you drooling yet?)

Season, garnish and enjoy!




Mashed potatoes and....cauliflower?




Homemade Tahini-Based Dips

Tahini, or sesame paste, is a staple ingredient of Middle Eastern cuisine. It's sold in most supermarkets, or you can make your own at home.

I got introduced to tahini years ago, after having a delectable dip called baba ganoush at my brother-in-law's mother's house. Researching the ingredients, I discovered that it's made of mashed eggplant and tahini, and that it's very simple to make.

Grillng the eggplants gives the baba ganoush a smokey flavour, making it an ideal summer appetizer. But when I get a hankering for it in the cold months, I simply grill the eggplants right over the hot stove coils. It makes a mess, but it works.

BABA GANOUSH

2 large Japanese eggplants (I use this variety, as opposed to the fatter Italian eggplants, because they are faster to grill and are more flavourful)
6-8 tablespoons tahini
1 large clove garlic, peeled and mashed to smooth pulp with a sprinkling of coarse salt (easily done with a mortar and pestle, or on your cutting board with the edge of your knife)
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 tablespoons olive oil

Grill the eggplants until soft and blackened all over. Pop them into a bowl and cover with plastic wrap to steam for a few minutes. Cut off the stems and peel off the blackened skins.

Place in a food processor along with the rest of the ingredients. Pulse a few times for a rough consistency, or puree until smooth.

HUMMUS

Growing up in the Philippines, I was not a big fan of chickpeas. They were what some cooks used as a filler in stews, but I was able to muster about as much enthusiasm for their presence in my callos as for an unwanted guest at a party. Luckily, you can shove chickpeas off to the side of your plate and ignore them without too much guilt.

I'm still not a fan of whole chickpeas, but hummus is another story. I love creamy, garlicky hummus with just a hint of lemon. It's delicious; it's nutritious; and it's super-easy to make.

This recipe uses the same basic ingredients as baba ganoush, replacing the eggplants with 2 cups chickpeas (I use canned chickpeas and leave some of the liquid in for a creamier consistency).

Serve these two dips with pita or bagel chips, or fresh veggies, and olives, roasted red peppers, and cubes of feta cheese.




Homemade Tahini-Based Dips




It's not Seventeen Again...it's a whole lot better

Carole King sings this song called So Far Away.   There's a line in it that goes, "It would be so fine to see your face at my door..."

I can't tell you how many times I've listened to this song over the years, thinking of all the well-beloved faces I longed to see at my door.

Last night, by a happy coincidence, my college BFFs Berns and Prixie arrived at my place at the same time with their husbands, and they all walked through my door together.  It was a sight worth waiting eighteen years to see.

Call me sentimental if you like, but I think I'm going to have let the photos do the talking.  Right now, all I can say is, "Thank you, God, for good friends!"

A feast fit for a reunion.  Recipes to come soon!




It's not Seventeen Again...it's a whole lot better




Bench Bunch: The Reunion

The Bench Bunch at Christmas 

So two of my BFFs from college are coming over for dinner tomorrow.  Berns is driving up from Washington State; Prixie flew in earlier this week, all the way from the Philippines, where we lived and laughed and were young together.

Prixie's the one I wrote about in an earlier post, the friend I found on Facebook when a friend tagged a picture of her that another friend had posted.  Berns was the tagger.  The poster, Monica, is back in the Philippines plotting another reunion in five years, with all members of the Bench Bunch hopefully present.  Who knows, it just might happen.  In the meantime, the three of us will make the most of this mini-reunion.

We called ourselves the Bench Bunch because we used to hang out at a particular bench in the college quad, handily located just outside the cafeteria. Two benches, actually, that faced each other, where we preferred to sit in all but the wettest weather, braving even the higad (itchy caterpillars) that occasionally dropped down from the tree branches overhead.

That was literally half a lifetime ago.  My memories of that time are filled with sunshine and laughter and guitar music, and they kept me warm through many winters that followed after.  They still do.

Tomorrow will be the first time we three are going to sit down together as grown-ups.  (I think the last time we three were at dinner together was on this occasion - my eighteenth birthday!)  Both Berns and Prixie are bringing their husbands...new faces in a circle that's growing ever-wider.

So what to cook for this singularly special dinner?  It's a surprise, but let me say that I think I'm getting good at these make-ahead dinners.  Homemade dips and appies: chilling nicely in the fridge.  Ingredients for main dish: defrosting.  Last-minute run to the green grocer for fresh veggies: check.  Liquor store for drinks: check.  Dessert: in freezer.  Tonight I'll be setting the table and getting all the serving dishes ready.   My main goal is not to be dashing around the kitchen like a madwoman when the guests arrive....this truly defeats the purpose of entertaining!

Stayed tuned for more Bench Bunch stories, and tips on how to make your make-ahead dinner a success! 


Bench Bunch: The Reunion




Urban Jungle series

I love this pool that's shaped like a giant leaf.




Urban Jungle series




Smoothie on my doorstep

You probably have your own ideas about how best to spend this gorgeous July Saturday morning. Me, I'm peacefully sitting on my own doorstep, watching the world go by, and sipping this deliciously refreshing homemade smoothie.

No matter what your plans are this weekend, don't forget to start your day with a healthy breakfast!

MANGO AND BERRY SMOOTHIE

1 1/2 cups tropical nectar (I used Sun Tropics mango nectar, made from Philippine mangoes - the best the in the world!)
1/2 mixed frozen berries (you can use any fruit you want; you can also use fresh fruit and add 4 ice cubes to the mix)

Blend until smooth and serve immediately!




Smoothie on my doorstep




Urban Jungle photo




Urban Jungle photo




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Droppings ni Lolo - or, Shit My Grandpa Says

Until the day she died, at the ripe old age of 93, my Lola Anita - God rest her soul - could remember all her family members' birthdays (day, month, year) and full names (if you are familiar with the Filipino tendency to have three or more given names, you will admit that this was no mean feat).

Her son-in-law, my Lolo D, has a remarkable memory too - remarkable, that is, for its unreliability. He doesn't forget names and terms - he just mixes them up...often with hilarious consequences.

I remember he used to call our household help by the wrong names. Not each other's names, but his own made-up approximations of their real names. It was a great source of entertainment for all of us, as we constantly had to guess whom he was referring to.

He calls roast beef drippings "droppings" and describes scantily clad people as "wearing nothing but their heebie-jeebies." Maybe because the sight of scantily clad people gives him the heebie-jeebies.

Newly settled in Montreal, he was informed he had to obtain a hospital card in addition to the provincial health care card. Accordingly, he and my mother went to have the necessary paperwork filled out and filed. The clerk assisting him asked, "And in which department of the hospital is your doctor practicing?"

"Gynecology," Lolo D answered.

The clerk gave him the fish eye over the top of her glasses and said, "I don't think so." At which point, my mother, red-faced, intervened. "It's geriatrics. Geriatrics." And in an aside to my grandfather, "You are embarrassing. I'm never going with you to the hospital again."

The latest incident occurred at the dinner table just last week. I wasn't there, but my sister was. She told me all about it over the phone, and we both laughed till we cried.

Lolo D had brought home a box of donut holes, or as we call them in Canada, Timbits. Mom popped them into the fridge. Later, while they were having dinner, someone wondered aloud what to have for dessert. Lolo D turned to Mom and asked, "Where are my balls?"

He blames all of this on a family propensity for malapropisms. My grandmother called it "having senior moments." Whatever it is, I think I've inherited it. I told my sister the other day that I had learned a new word. Guddling. "It's what you do to a mint leaf to bruise it before adding it to a mojito," I explained.

Long pause at the other end of the line. "I think you mean muddling," she said at last.

Oops, okay. Muddling. "But guddling is a word too," I insisted.

Another long pause. "Uh-huh...." she said. "But it's definitely not what you do to a mint leaf."

Wondering why the long pauses, I looked up the word "to guddle." Of Scottish origin, it has many meanings, some rather less savoury than others. And my sister was right - none of them has any connection to mint leaves whatsoever.

I guess I'll be thinking twice from now on before laughing at Lolo D's latest. There's just no escaping heredity. Or karma. 


Droppings ni Lolo - or, Shit My Grandpa Says




It's barbecue season....

...now, if only the weather would cooperate!

I've been to three barbecues this week. Two of them were rained out. Not to worry: our spirits remained undampened, even if the patio furniture didn't. But it would be nice to have some warmer, sunnier weather - it is, after all, July!

Well, we had a nice day today. And even if summer is taking its time this year, I have memories of past barbecues to keep me warm.

The smoky aroma of barbecue brings me right back to my childhood, when all it took was for a few friends of my parents to drop by, and presto! We were having a party. The grown-ups would go off to market and come back with loads of wonderful things to eat: tomatoes and onions, salted eggs, green and yellow mangoes, cantaloupes, watermelons, sweet rice cakes, fish and shrimp and mussels and clams, cases of my dad's favourite Red Horse beer.

Most importantly, there was meat - freshly sliced pork and choice pieces of chicken, which would soon be marinating in huge green plastic tubs, because the kitchen bowls weren't big enough.

We had a concrete barbecue pit built right onto our patio, with a wide brick ledge all around for holding platters and utensils. Ronnie, my dad's right-hand man, would stand there, wielding an anahaw fan, coaxing the coals into a white-hot smoulder, and barbecuing the first pieces of meat, which he skewered onto thin whittled bamboo sticks for easy handling.

In Canada, we managed to build a barbecue pit ourselves with stackable bricks.

And then other friends and family would start arriving, and Pops would start opening the beer bottles and serving up the sizzling barbecue. Our sprawling garden would be filled with laughter and conversation, everyone sitting at long tables spread with fresh banana leaves that served as both tablecloth and plates - most convenient, not to mention eco-friendly!

Finally, when night fell, and all the barbecue was consumed, hands were washed and rubbed with lemon rinds, the patio cleared of chairs, and there would be dancing under the inky, star-pierced sky.

So, in celebration of one of summer's most beloved rituals, I offer you now my family's version of Filipino barbecue. It works well with both chicken and pork. Serve it with ice-cold beer and whatever sides and salads you like - but remember, it tastes best when accompanied by laughter and music, and if you can get it, a skyful of stars.

FILIPINO BARBECUE

2 kg pork shoulder, sliced thinly

1 cup soy sauce

1 can 7-Up

1/2 cup brown sugar

1 head garlic, peeled and crushed

pepper to taste

Combine the soy sauce, 7-Up, sugar, garlic, and pepper in a large bowl and whisk to mix well. Add the meat and marinate for at least two hours. Thread the meat onto bamboo skewers and grill on both sides.




It's barbecue season....




All-egg-white omelettes? Oh, yes!

In The Skinny on Losing Weight Without Being Hungry, Dr. Louis Aronne prescribes a protein-rich breakfast to get your day off to a good start. And a good source of protein is eggs - specifically, egg whites. Dr. Aronne recommends making omelettes entirely out of egg whites because this allows you to consume a greater amount of protein without the fat and cholesterol contained in the yolks.

I admit that I was skeptical at first - I couldn't imagine anything more boring and bland than egg white. To me, egg white is what you use to make other interesting things like meringues and pavlovas. But I decided to give it a shot, and off I went to the supermarket for those egg whites that are sold in cardboard cartons.

My first all-egg-white omelette was a pleasant surprise. I added sliced asparagus spears, a little bit of sliced garlic, and salt and pepper. It was tasty and filling, and Dr. Aronne was right - you really can't tell the difference.

Just like with salads, the ideas for omelettes are endless. And a hot, healthy, hearty breakfast is definitely worth setting your alarm clock for.

Mexican Omelette

1 cup egg whites
1 tomato, seeded and diced
1/4 red onion, sliced
1/4 cup grated Monterey Jack cheese

chopped cilantro (optional)
salt and pepper

Heat a tiny bit of oil in a small, nonstick skillet and add the tomato and onion. Season with salt and pepper and cook for a couple of minutes, until they start getting soft and translucent.

Spread them out evenly and pour in the egg whites. Sprinkle the cheese and chopped cilantro over all. Cook until the bottom is golden and set, then flip carefully to cook the other side.

Serve with diced avocado and salsa.




All-egg-white omelettes? Oh, yes!