What is it about seasonal change that is so emotional?
This hunch seems especially true for fall, but especially pertinent in my little nook of Canada. Another 6-7 months of briskness is coming. The booties have been dusted off and wooly scarves have cozied around my neck on more than one occasion already. We seem to brace ourselves and turn into each other so readily. The community feels strong wherever cold winds sweep through and my dwelling spaces have been no exception.
I heard a rustle of slowly decaying leaves from the apple tree in the middle of our garden at dusk and I swear it was fraught with emotive… like, vibrational THINGS. You know?! The fallen fruits laying in the dampness, some rotting and sunk in, kind of threw me. I was taken aback by the whole scene. Strange beauty in the cool mud before dark.
Mark and I were in Montreal a couple weekends ago and passing by an old church in the morning hours, I could hear the choir of voices inside just slightly muffled by ages-old bricks and mortar, the congregation’s joy barely contained. I felt like my chest would explode, just walking on by.
I’ve been laughing harder too. So many things giving me that riot of hearty laughs where the sides of your eyes are all misty wet and crinkled from the inability to contain that big, smiling mouth. Just one little gesture or phrase from Mark and I’m senseless with that gasping-for-air-kind of laugh, face blindly pointed to the sky trying to catch a moment, a breath, only to fall into it again.
Needless to say I’m drinking this atmospheric goodness up fairly greedily. That lushness seems abundant all around. I’m gently savoring it in some ways; the slower sipping of morning coffee, lingering over a book or magazine in a warm spot of the house, craving anything that can possibly be roasted or caramelized… In other ways, I’m much more eager to get my fill with a sense of haste; spontaneous road trips, all kinds of indulgence, permitting myself some laziness on a whim. It’s all keeping me in the moment.
My appetite has been pretty strong through all of this, as per usual. I wanted to make something that would serve as a very complete side dish at dinner that could gracefully turn into a perfect lunch addition for a few days longer. Leftovers. I wanted some damn good leftovers to eliminate any doubt around lunchtime for a bit. We had some gorgeous delicata squash forming in the garden, one of my favourites.
I started thinking about a sort-of tabbouleh salad with roasted squash and super sweet, sun-ripened tomatoes, barely clinging to the dried up vines at this point. Lots of herbs and citrus in the form of a whole lime vinaigrette is in the mix, an awesome technique I’m borrowing from Brooklyn Supper. You get the acidity of the juice and all the fragrance of the zest in a couple little blitzes of the blender. It’s the perfect accompaniment to sweet, roast-y squash, cracked wheat and a bounty of parsley and mint. This comes together so easily once you get the squash roasting, which is completely by design. I wanted to leave you with plenty of time to fill your heart up with the excitement of change and coziness :)
delicata squash and whole lime tabbouleh
vinaigrette from Brooklyn Supper
notes: Make sure you let the cooked bulgur cool down completely before tossing it with all of the other ingredients to avoid major grain-clumping. Feel free to use quinoa or millet for a very similar gluten-free option too. Don’t eat grains? Try some cauliflower pilaf technique. Also, I recognize that some limes might be more juicy or pith-y than others, so in light of this I have some suggestions for whole lime vinaigrette success/trouble shooting. First, zest the lime onto a cutting board, aiming to only grate off the green part (the white/pith is rather bitter). From here, cut it in half and squeeze the juice into your blender. Add a 1/2 teaspoon of the zest to start and go from there. You might want more if you like the fragrance/essential oils of the peel.
1 medium delicata squash, split in half lengthwise, seeds removed
2 tbsp grapeseed oil
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp sea salt
1 cup dry bulgur
5-6 roma-sized tomatoes, cut into small wedges
8 sprigs flat leaf parsley, leaves chopped roughly
8 sprigs mint, leaves chopped roughly
1 lime, halved and chopped into smaller pieces (preferably a juicy one)
1 clove of garlic, peeled
1 tbsp agave nectar
1/3 cup grapeseed (or olive) oil
1/3 cup water
salt and pepper
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
Slice the delicata halves crosswise into 1/2 inch thick half moons. Toss them with the 2 tbsp grapeseed oil, ground coriander, salt and pepper. Arrange on the parchment-lined baking sheet. Roast for 25 minutes or until squash is tender and lightly browned. Remove and set aside to cool.
While squash is roasting, combine bulgur and 1.5 cups water in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Bring to a boil, cover and simmer for 7-10 minutes or until all liquid is absorbed. Remove from heat and set aside to cool. Add a splash of oil and stir it around at this point to prevent clumping.
Combine the chopped tomatoes, parsley, mint, roasted squash and cooked bulgur in a large bowl.
Make the vinaigrette: Combine the chopped lime, garlic clove, water, oil, salt and pepper in a blender pitcher. Blend on medium-high speed until lime is liquified and you have a creamy, homogenous mix. Taste for seasoning.
Pour vinaigrette over vegetables and bulgur. Stir to combine and add any salt or pepper if you like. Serve at room temperature or cold.
This gluten free cookie recipe has lowbrow-inspired roots despite its sophisticated looks and healthy-happy ingredients. Sort of shamefully lowbrow. Confession time is upon us. Deep breath.
We took a trip over to the USA last week (I live super close to an American border crossing-hey neighbours!) and brought back a certain brand of cookies, featuring certain little worker elves occupying a suspiciously chocolate-equipped treehouse/cookie factory. These were tagging along with some bottles of my favourite kombucha to keep it all in balance of course. Anyway these cookies were good. Too good. Thick cut graham-like crackers covered in fudge-y chocolate. Very simple goodness flavour-wise that unfortunately DID NOT translate to a simple ingredients list. Hydrogenated whatnots, probably 5 forms of sugar, the white flour, preservatives etc. Oy. And I ate how many? Too many.
Since I’m not one to dwell on less-than-virtuous eating incidents (I eat for pleasure first and always), I started dreaming up a healthier version of this crack-cookie as it were. There would be coconut oil for fat, hazelnuts for body (and to give off a bit of a nutella vibe), wholesome sweeteners, healthy garnishes for fun deliciousness and the like.
And it all worked out! I made my own hazelnut and coconut flour/meal in the blender and threw the dough together in the food processor. You could grind the flour in the food processor too, saving yourself some extra dishes/appliance usage. When grinding the nuts/coconut, you’e looking for the consistency of almond meal. A few stops short of nut butter does the trick. It should hold together when you pinch it, but still feel dry.
The dough will actually seem like a failure right from the outset. You’ll wonder how this sticky goop will become cookies-cookies that will actually be pleasant enough to eat at that. Flatten it out, stick it in the oven, maybe cross your fingers a bit and whoa! Spiced vanilla hazelnutty-molasses goodness that will take a bath in chocolate and get all smothered in sea salt, chopped nuts and cacao nibs. Oh. Yes. Protein, healthy fat, grain-free, sugar-free, satiating, vegan, tasty pretties… all that good stuff for wholesome, fancy-lady tea time. Sorry sweet little elves. Today, I win.
chocolate covered hazelnut grahams
serves: makes around 12 or more
notes: These will not taste exactly like graham crackers! They’re a bit more pillowy, nutty and complex. Having said that, these would be amazing with a smooshy, molten marshmallow on top.
1 cup + 2 tbsp hazelnut flour (roughly 1 cup of nuts ground in the food processor)
1/4 cup ground coconut meal (throw it in with the hazelnuts to make life easy)
1 tsp arrowroot powder
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
pinch of ground cinnamon
pinch of sea salt
1 tbsp maple syrup (or honey, agave, brown rice syrup etc)
scant 3 tbsp coconut oil, room temperature to cool (it should be soft, slightly cool, but not at all liquid)
1.5 tbsp molasses
1 tbsp non-dairy milk
splash of vanilla extract
1/3 cup non-dairy milk
1/3 cup semi-sweet chocolate (chips or chopped from a bar)
1 tbsp maple syrup
1 tsp coconut oil
flaky sea salt
etc (crushed lavender buds would be dope)
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Place a rack in the middle of the oven.
After you’ve processed the hazelnuts and coconut, add the arrowroot powder, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon and sea salt. Pulse a couple times to combine.
Add the maple syrup, molasses, coconut oil, non-dairy milk and vanilla to the dry ingredients. Place the lid back on and pulse until the dough starts to form a solid mass. If it isn’t clumping together, add hazelnut or coconut meal in tablespoon increments until it starts forming a ball as you pulse the machine.
Remove the blade and scrape the dough onto a piece of parchment paper. Place a big sheet of saran wrap on top of the dough and flatten the dough out with a rolling pin. You want it fairly thin, around a 1/4 inch thickness. Transfer the parchment sheet with the dough to a baking sheet large enough to hold it all. Bake for about 12 minutes or until edges are quite brown and dough feels dry. Cool completely.
Cut giant graham into whatever size cookies you like, removing the super brown edges.
Make the ganache: In a small saucepan over medium heat, bring the milk to a boil. Lower it to a simmer and add the chocolate chips, maple syrup and coconut oil. Whisk until chocolate is fully melted, about 3 minutes. Keep warm until ready to use.
Line another baking sheet with parchment. Using a small spatula as a chocolate dry-walling tool of sorts, brush the ganache onto the cut grahams. Lay them on the parchment-lined sheet and garnish with whatever you like while they’re still wet. Repeat with remaining grahams. Place in the fridge to set chocolate more rapidly.
Guys, summer isn’t over and I’m going to prove it to you. How? Over a healthy bowl of farro risotto with tons of sweet corn, juicy caramelized tomatoes and fresh herbs. Our garden is exploding with goodness right about now. Pumpkin and apples can just wait.
Much as I love the season of turning leaves, blushing summer fruits and full flavour veggies are at their peak in my little corner of southern Ontario. Time to get virtuous with the resources and do the right thing: eat it all. Pinterest is kind of exploding with pumpkin spice things and braises, hot toddies, pictures of cold mist washing over mountains, wool sweaters, ruggedly handsome dudes in puffer vests, ankle booties and the like. Resistance. Peaches. Iced tea. Summer. Forever.
I won’t deny the cool breeze floating around in the evenings though. This recipe is made for that coolness, that whisper of things to come. It’s a warm and hearty bowl-food kind of recipe that makes you feel good just knowing that it’s going to come about. There is toasty farro stirred in a risotto style with a bunch of summer veg, shallots, a heavy drizzle of white wine and the sweetest, most delicious thing ever: corn stock. Stock made from corn cobs. So simple. So game-changing.
September brings out the “clean it up, get resourceful, and move the hell on” side of me. It’s something fierce. I’ve been working a lot, so spending that precious leisure time in a cloud of clutter was making me somewhat grumpy. It was time to remedy that in a serious way. Along with getting all enterprising and such on those corn cobs, I’ve been on a bit of a clean-up tear.
There was a slight closet purging, major recycling efforts, a pantry consolidation (“Oh neat there’s farro in the back of this cupboard!“), a solemn promise to hold a yard sale (and an equally solemn promise to be more discerning on kitchen and book-related purchases) etc. How have I amassed so much stuff? It’s overwhelming, but I’ve been taking some giant steps, making it all happen and feeling way better. Room to breathe and move around. It feels good, friends. Like a shinier, sparklier, less hindered version of yourself emerging. All that and a bowl of farrotto. Summer can stick around a while longer as far as I’m concerned.
sweet corn and caramelized tomato farrotto
notes: If you don’t want to wait for a homemade corn stock to come into fruition, using a pre-fab vegetable stock should yield some decent results. You could go for the traditional arborio rice if you have a gluten allergy too. Oh, and a pro tip: Have everything at the ready on the counter beside your stove once you’re about to start stirring it all up.
4 cobs of corn, kernels removed and set aside and cobs saved
1 cup of farro, soaked for 30 minutes
1 pint grape tomatoes
1 tsp + 2 tbsp grapeseed oil
1 large shallot, fine dice
1 sprig of thyme, leaves minced
1/4 cup dry white wine
1 sprig of basil, leaves finely sliced (or dill, parsley, any other leafy herb)
1/4 cup pine nuts, toasted and lightly chopped
optional: big handful of grated pecorino cheese
salt and pepper
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.
Make the corn cob stock: place the cobs in a large pot. Add a few dices of celery, onion and carrot if you like. Pour 6 cups of water into the pot over the vegetables. Place pot on the stove and bring to a boil over medium high heat. Reduce heat and simmer for 20-30 minutes. Strain stock through a sieve. Return stock to the large pot. Keep warm. There should be about 4-5 cups-worth.
While stock is simmering, line a small baking sheet with parchment paper. Place whole grape tomatoes on the paper. Toss tomatoes with the 1 tsp of oil and some salt and pepper. Roast in the oven for 20 minutes, or until slightly browned and shriveled. Remove and set aside.
Drain and rinse the farro, trying to remove as much water as possible. Set aside. Start simmering the strained corn cob stock on a back burner.
Heat the 2 tbsp of oil in a large soup pot over medium heat. Add the diced shallot and minced thyme. Saute until the shallots are translucent and browning slightly. Add the drained farro. Stir it around until it’s thoroughly coated in oil and starting to smell toasty. Add the wine. It should bubble up quite a bit. Stir the farro around until most of the wine is absorbed.
Add a 1/2 cup of corn stock. Stir the grains around until most of the liquid is absorbed. Repeat this process with the stock until the farro is just about cooked. I added about 3 cups of stock (in 6 additions) before I got to this stage. When you bite into a kernel of farro, it should yield to the tooth, but still have a bit of chew.
Add the corn kernels and one more 1/2 cup of stock. Stir vigorously to activate the starch in the corn. Once most of the stock is absorbed and the mixture appears creamy. Add the roasted tomatoes, basil, pine nuts and pecorino (if using). Season with salt and pepper and stir gently to combine.
Serve hot with more chopped basil on top if you like.
The beans in this recipe are not so typical and neither is the salsa. It’s different. Good-different. I purchased the Mexico issue from Saveur a while ago, read through it in about an hour and was so inspired by the flavours, colours, stories and intricacies of cuisine brought forth. Rick Bayless, one of my favourite chef personalities, has a fantastic piece in it describing the culinary landscape of the country. I find inspiration all around pretty regularly, but this is whole ‘nother level kind of stuff.
String beans usually get the steam-and-serve-on-the-side treatment so I was pretty stoked to get weird with them in this dish. Summertime makes us rich in this particular vegetable and since the heat is just raging on (I’m not ready to even contemplate pumpkin’s existence yet), I’m using them up.
I spent some time in more rural parts of Mexico when I was a teenager. I don’t remember eating anything exactly like this, but the boldness of the flavour, its vibrance and colour, the simple goodness of it, really brought me back to those quieter nights away from the hotspots. Warm tortillas scooping up homemade delicacies. Simple sweets that you only needed a teeny bit of. I can still see the sprawling, bare landscape and the small houses dolled up with strings of lights from all the way out here.
So anyway, there was a page in the issue on salsa called Special Sauce, describing the ubiquitous condiment as “an endless journey.” I was drawn in immediately. There’s a pretty typical formula we think of when we hear “salsa” in North America, but in its home country, the varieties that span the varying landscapes are in the thousands. Every home, every community, climate, state etc. makes it differently according to what is available and what particular food application is going to come about. Some types are universally used throughout the country, but this riff on a fried peanut-based salsa is more popular in and around Chiapas.
We didn’t have any peanuts, but almonds are always plentiful here and I love them paired with green beans. That combination is classic for a reason. The time had come to roast them to the edge of burnt with some hot peppers from the garden and then grind the whole mess up with oil, lime, salt and garlic. I toss some blanched beans and fragrant brown rice in that rich, fiery paste and top it off with more toasted nuts, soft and cooling goat cheese and fresh lime zest. It’s crunchy, fresh, rich, toasty, creamy and fairly hot. It’s wonderful. So much variety and influences on one plate taking you everywhere at once.
beans + rice toss with spicy roasted almond salsa and goat cheese
notes: This recipe makes more than enough salsa. It combines pretty perfectly with any cooked protein you could scheme up. Also, I used two cherry hot peppers because that’s what we have out back. They aren’t crazy hot, so adjust the recipe accordingly to what you have/how fiery you want it.
1/2 cup almonds
2 small hot peppers
1 large clove of garlic, un-peeled (or 2 regular ones)
zest of 1/2 a lime (zest the whole thing and save the rest for garnishing the dish at the end)
juice of a whole lime
1/4 cup + 2 tbsp grapeseed oil
fat pinch of salt
1 lb string beans, tough ends removed
3/4 cup cooked brown rice
additional toasted almonds
big handful of crumbled goat cheese
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F
Place the almonds on a small, parchment-lined baking sheet. Place the hot peppers and garlic on a separate parchment-lined sheet. Put both sheets in the oven. Roast almonds for about 12 minutes or until very brown and toasty. Continue roasting peppers and garlic for another 12 minutes, or until shrivelled and browned/blackened. Remove from the oven to cool.
Save for a small handful, place all of the almonds in a food processor. Remove the stem from the hot peppers and the skin from the garlic. Add these to the food processor along with the lime zest, juice, grapeseed oil and salt. Pulse until a smooth (but still textured) paste forms. Scrape out of the food processor and set aside.
Set up a large bowl with some ice in it for shocking the beans when they come out of the hot water. Bring a large pot of water to a boil over medium heat. Add a good pinch of salt and dump the trimmed beans in. Simmer until beans are crisp-tender, about 8-9 minutes. Drain the beans and place them in the ice water. Stir them around until adequately chilled. Drain the beans and set aside.
Toss the drained beans and brown rice with half of the salsa in a large bowl until everything is thoroughly coated. Place beans and rice on your serving plate. Chop residual toasted almonds and sprinkle on top of beans and rice. Garnish with goat cheese and lime zest. Serve at room temperature.
I came out of the forest to bring you this sweet little packet of a breakfast recipe/strategy. We went up north for a few days of clean air, adventure and quiet time in the oldest provincial park in Canada. We were greeted by some gentle rain, sitting in our canoe at the entry point, looking out over the grey, foggy beauty of it all. We had woken up at 3 in the morning, drove 5 hours, listened to a lot of Springsteen (we’re on a serious Bruce tear), drank a decent amount of coffee, got the permit, the park-licensed garbage bag, the whole deal. After a 3 hour canoe/portage trip to our site, we were soaked, kind of cold, but quietly content. Being out in the world! With the force of nature all around and its miracles, getting bummed about those little struggles seems a bit silly.
The end of summer has all kind of gone along with that theme. A whole bunch of little, unassuming and wonderful things that make up the big beautiful and fill it with grace. Very simply satisfied with life at the moment.
What goes along nicely with little things that fill your life with shiny abundance? Oatmeal. Yep.
When we go on any excursion, not just the great-outdoors ones, food is my responsibility. Mark handles the fire building, wood chopping, the shelter construction, any navigation whatsoever, loading the canoe properly, lifting all the heavy things, tying our food up high in the trees at night like a pro (bears are a real deal possibility)… you get the idea. He does a lot and watching him carry on happily in that element, I couldn’t love him more.
So naturally I try to make the food aspect way good. Sure it has to be delicious, kind of easy to scheme up, slightly compact, but also crazy-fortifying. Hot oatmeal cooked over a campfire with a bit of hemp, vanilla sugar and fresh fruit on a cool woodsy morning fits the bill just right. I’m more of a steel-cut kind of gal normally, but for the sake of practicality this add-hot-water-and-stir number hits the spot and is just as tasty to boot. Sure I could have bought the little packets, but it’s crazy simple to make and ten times better. Actually.
A lot of the packaged brands include some kind of milk powder to achieve a sort of creaminess when the hot water is added. I wasn’t really all over this particular move, so I found a solution that I can deliciously live with. Justin’s and Artisana brands make some awesome nut butters in tiny packets for healthy peeps on the go. It’s brilliant. I boil up some water, dump in the pre-bagged oat goodness, add the packet of nut butter, stir stir stir over the fire, add some chopped fruit and voila. Tasty breakfast.
This is a pretty smart little strategy for the work week too. It’s easy enough to have access to a jar of almond butter (or whatever you like) and some hot water at the workplace so why not? Make up five little bundles of the good stuff on a day off, make sure no one’s snagging spoonfuls of your nut/seed butter at work and you’re all good for healthy, happy morning meals.
do-it-yourself instant oatmeal with nut butter
serves: for 1 packet/serving
notes: Use whatever flaked grains, nuts, seeds, dried fruit etc you like. This recipe is just an example of what I made for our little trip.
in the packet:
1/3-1/2 cup flaked grains (I used oats and rye)
2 tbsp seeds or chopped nuts (I used hemp and chia seeds)
2 tbsp dried fruit (I used dried sour cherries)
2 tsp dry sweetener of your choice (I had some vanilla sugar around, this amount may vary if you’re using stevia or something more concentrated)
teeny pinch of salt
2 tbsp-1/4 cup boiling water (depending on how watery/sticky you want it)
1 tbsp nut/seed butter of your choice (I used raw walnut butter)
cut up fresh fruit (we had glorious end-of-summer peaches)
Place the oats, seeds/nuts, dried fruit, sweetener and salt in a bag or tupperware container of some type. When ready to serve, dump contents into serving dish of your choice.
Pour the boiling water on top and add the nut butter. Stir it all up until thoroughly combined. Place chopped fruit on top and serve.