Kitchen Confidential - Vichyssoise

Well, now… Just when I thought I was feeling better, pregnancy nausea returned to strike with a vengeance the other day. I was perfectly fine, I’d had breakfast and everything, when BAM – my stomach lurched, and I had to lie down for 30 minutes before it felt safe to move again. During those really bad bouts, the only thing that really helps me is Petit Écolier cookies, those buttery French cookies with a slab of dark chocolate superposed on top. I’ve tried substituting them with fruit, cereal bars, sweet yogurt – nothing else does the trick. Pity they don’t travel well, or I’d take them with me everywhere. As things stand, they have a permanent spot on my countertop. I’m beginning to think there’s more to my love of chocolate than simple gustative pleasure: it’s like I’m wired to turn to it in times of distress, both physical and psychological. Wait, that sounds unhealthy… Oh well, frankly, I don’t care, especially not these days!

Anyways, let’s get back to books, shall we? I read today’s book quite a long time ago. Actually, I devoured it in under two days, if I recall. It’s a classic of its kind, a book I remember my mother reading when it came out (although I can’t be certain she actually liked it – in fact, with all the swear words, I’m pretty sure she didn’t). Its author is one of the most outspoken personalities in the food world, and apparently a fan of our fair city of Montreal (the episode of The Layover he filmed in Montreal last summer coincidentally airs tonight on the Travel+Escape channel – or you can do what everyone else in town did months ago and see it online. I’m talking, of course, about Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential.

The book chronicles Bourdain’s discovery of the pleasures of food, his entry into the professional culinary world, and the inner workings and dirty little secrets of the restaurant industry. Through anecdotes, revelations, and advice (both for the home cook and the wannabe pro), he paints a picture which I would sum up in one expression: larger-than-life. From a chef who has sex with a customer (a new bride, no less!) behind his restaurant to “Adam the psychotic bread baker” whose magic dough makes chefs overlook his frightening behaviour, Kitchen Confidential is full of outrageous characters and situations, giving an almost circus-like atmosphere to the whole restaurant universe. Add to that Bourdain’s own, shall we say, strong personality, and you’ve got one hell of a ride. Say what you will, it’s an entertaining read on just about every level.

As I mentioned briefly in a previous book post, Bourdain’s bravado sometimes comes dangerously close to being a turn-off. His credo, he makes clear from the start, is to call it the way he sees it, others’ opinions be damned. Most of the time, it pays off, especially when he balances it out with self-deprecation. But sometimes, it almost comes off as posing, or worse, as self-importance and accompanying disdain for others, for the very people whom he believes look down on him:

“My naked contempt for vegetarians, sauce-on-the-siders, the ‘lactose intolerant’ and the cooking of the Ewok-like Emeril Lagasse is not going to get me my own show on the Food Network. I don’t think I’ll be going on ski weekends with André Soltner anytime soon or getting a back rub from that hunky Bobby Flay. Eric Ripert won’t be calling me for ideas on tomorrow’s fish special. But I’m simply not going to deceive anybody about the life as I’ve seen it.”

As I’ve said before, there are ways of telling it like it is without drawing attention to the fact that you’re telling it like it is, and this isn’t one of them. It’s rather evocative that Bourdain began his love affair with food through sheer spite and provocation: when, on a family trip to France, his parents, tired of hearing him whine about the weird food and order steak haché with ketchup in the land of haute cuisine, left him in the car while they enjoy a luxury meal, he decided to become an even more daring foodie than they are, just to “show them.” Then again, he’s not the only one to have made a life-altering decision out of temporary spite. It’s no worse than having it happen by accident, or through emulation. Any catalyst for what turns out to be true passion is okay by me.

Overall, though, Bourdain still comes off as genuine most of the time, and some of his grouchy rants had me laughing out loud, even when he was being overly harsh – especially when he was being overly harsh, in fact. He is at his best when his political incorrectness is delivered in stride, with neither apologies nor exaggerated “look at me” stylistic acrobatics.

No, scratch that. Bourdain is at his true best when he lets his love of food shine through – and there is absolutely no doubt that this love is real and strong. For all his irascibility and apparent self-destructive tendencies (I caught him on The Colbert Report a while after having read the book and was surprised by how healthy he looked, given his description of his lifestyle – perhaps he’s made some changes in the past decade), the man also clearly loves life, and he devours it every chance he gets – sometimes to great excess, as he unreservedly admits. And his exhilaration is contagious. Ultimately, isn’t that one of the things we look for in a chef memoir or any chef’s book: a renewal of our appetite not just for food, but for life?

There’s description of a lot of different kinds of food in Kitchen Confidential, and not all of it is good – the food, not the description. The infamous, oft-quoted chapter where Bourdain explains how food is managed and recycled in restaurants might make you a little queasy, not to mention afraid (as if my pregnant self didn’t have enough to worry about regarding food safety). Overall, though, most of the food passages are about the experience of enjoying food, rather than the food itself: see for example Bourdain’s epic supper in a Tokyo sushi bar. There is decadence in every line, but the focus is more on the ecstasy of the experience, rather than the texture and flavour or the fish.

The same focus is evident in the opening description of the soup that started it all: a vichyssoise. “I remember everything about the experience: the way our waiter ladled it from a silver tureen into my bowl, the crunch of tiny chopped chives he spooned on as garnish, the rich, creamy taste of leek and potato, the pleasurable shock, the surprise that it was cold.”

For a long time, the only cold soup I was even aware of was the gazpacho – and if I recall, I had my first taste in Barcelona, and it was indeed a mini-revelation. Then I discovered cold squash soup. Vichyssoise came later. I personally find it a bit heavy for regular fare, but it’s worth making it with real cream, as the richness is part of the experience. And yes, the crunchy chive garnish is an absolute must.

This is a very bare-bones recipe. I’ve seen versions with celery and parsley, but I like to keep the flavours clean in this soup – of course, it helps that I love leeks.

Vichyssoise

Adapted from Rosario Buonassisi’s Les soupes du monde entier

Serves 4-6

2 tbsp butter

1 onion, sliced

4 leeks, white part only, halved lengthwise and sliced crosswise

2 medium potatoes, peeled and chopped

500 ml (2 cups) chicken stock

250 to 375 ml (1 to 1 1/2 cup) heavy cream, cold

Chopped fresh chives, for garnish

Salt and pepper, to taste

Melt the butter in a large saucepan over medium-low heat. Add the onion and the leeks, season with salt, and sweat until soft, stirring often and making sure not to brown the vegetables. Add the potatoes and stock, bring to a boil, then reduce heat, cover and simmer for 20 minutes, until everything is tender. Adjust seasoning and let cool to room temperature.

Purée with a mixer or in a blender until perfectly smooth, and transfer to a tureen or large bowl. Stir in the cold cream, adding the amount necessary to obtain the texture you seek. Adjust seasoning again. Chill in the refrigerator until very cold, at least two hours. Ladle into bowls, sprinkle with chives, and serve immediately.

Daring Cooks' February Challenge - Röstis

The Daring Cooks’ February 2012 challenge was hosted by Audax & Lis and they chose to present Patties for their ease of construction, ingredients and deliciousness! We were given several recipes, and learned the different types of binders and cooking methods to produce our own tasty patties!

My apologies, I’m posting late again. I actually completed this month’s DC challenge weeks ago, but I was extremely busy yesterday and the day before, preparing and giving a conference, so I had to postpone this post.

Sooooo… “Patties,” you say? Not the most difficult challenge, nor the most aesthetic. But sometimes, the Daring Kitchen challenges are about creativity and simple technique, not complexity. Not that I was particularly creative: I made röstis.

What can I say, there’s something about crispy potatoes that I find irresistible. French fries, oven-roasted potatoes, latkes… Their presence on the table always brings a smile to my face. I’d never made röstis, although I’d had them. It turns out their preparation is very similar to latkes, except they are thinner and aren’t deep-fried. Other than that, they’re basically shredded potato patties.

We made one giant rösti, which we cut into wedges and ate the way we usually eat latkes: with smoked salmon and crème fraîche. Delicious! Crispy potatoes triumph again!

And that’s really all I’ve got for you this month. My thanks to Audax for this tasty challenge! Please check out the Daring Kitchen to look at the challenge recipes, as well as the Daring Cooks’ blog roll to see what everyone else cooked up this month!

Daring Bakers' January Challenge - Scones

Audax Artifex was our January 2012 Daring Bakers’ host.. Aud worked tirelessly to master light and fluffy scones (a/k/a biscuits) to help us create delicious and perfect batches in our own kitchens!

I had a dual reaction when I saw this month’s DB challenge. The first was “Yaaaay, easy challenge!” The second was “Nooooo, more biscuits!”

Don’t get me wrong, I love scones/biscuits. So much so that I’ve made quite a lot of them in recent months. I made big, cheddar-and-chives scones for a party. I made tiny biscuits for Christmas. I made a cheese-and-bacon version of those same tiny biscuits for New Year’s – and, since we were supposed to join a large crowd for the occasion, I made close to 150 of them. Except we ended up not going, because I was sick. I gave a third of the biscuits to my in-laws, and forced another third onto some friends who innocently passed by a few days later. Part of the remaining third is still in our freezer. So I was understandably not too jazzed about making more of these things.

But a challenge is a challenge! And our host, Audax, put so much work into this deceptively simple one that I would’ve felt bad playing hooky. Scones are one of the easiest baked goods out there: there are few ingredients, no beating eggs, no creaming butter, and minimal kneading. In fact, the less you handle the dough, the better. So it’s the little things that make the difference between an acceptable biscuit, and a great one. And Audax did a great job at reuniting all the tips that can help.

Another cool thing about scones is that they are very versatile. We actually don’t eat a lot of breakfast or tea pastries, so I usually make savoury scones. On the day I decided to do the challenge, I had planned to make a spicy Thai soup for dinner. So, in order to end up with a somewhat coherent meal (as opposed to the weird Italian-Indian-Thai combos I sometimes wind up with), I experimented with shiitake scones.

I really wasn’t sure whether it would work. I followed the basic recipe, adding 1/2 cup of finely chopped rehydrated shiitake mushrooms and 1/4 teaspoon of baking soda. I kept the dough wetter than I usually do, too. When I was making huge batches of biscuits, I would use the food processor, but given that this was a fairly small load (8-9 medium scones), I mixed it by hand, using my fingers to incorporate the butter.

I did kind of a bad job rolling out the dough, so I got an uneven rise on some of the scones. But rise they did, and the crumb was light and fluffy. The flavour itself was decent, although it could have used more salt. I had actually contemplated putting soy sauce into the dough, but had decided against it; although I’m still very curious as to what would have happened. Overall, though, I doubt shiitake scones will be the next big Asian side dish... They were okay, but I would prefer a bowl of rice or some noodles any day.

The scone below was made from my last scraps, which I stacked. It looks freaky, but it was practically as good as the others.

Thanks, Audax, for a cool challenge! Please check out the challenge recipes at the Daring Kitchen (link to be updated as soon as the recipes go up), and take a look at the Daring Bakers’ blog roll to see what everyone else whipped up!

Daring Cooks' January Challenge - Tamales

Maranda of Jolts & Jollies was our January 2012 Daring Cooks hostess with the mostess! Maranda challenged us to make traditional Mexican Tamales as our first challenge of the year!

You may have noticed I skipped out on the last couple of Daring Kitchen challenges. Up until then, I had only skipped one challenge (the croquembouche one, which I still intend to make someday). But toward the end of 2011, there was just too much going on, and I was barely cooking at all. However, with the new year, I was ready to get back on track and get back to the kitchen.

I’ll just announce is right now so that you won’t be shocked when you get to the end of this post: it was a disaster.

I love Mexican food, but had never eaten, let alone made tamales. I wasn’t even sure what they were. Basically, they consist of a filling wrapped inside a corn flour dough, which is itself wrapped inside a rehydrated corn husk, then steamed. Sounded easy enough.

Up until two weeks ago, I had a pack of corn husks in my pantry, purchased on a whim at a Mexican grocery store, in one of those “Oooh, I wonder what I could do with this?” moments. They had lingered there for months, until I was seized by a rabid need to clean up the clutter that had seemingly taken over every shelf, cupboard, and drawer of the apartment, and began moving stuff around and clearing out spaces. In my enthusiasm, I chucked out the corn husks, in one of those “The hell with it, I’m never going to use this” moments. It figures that this month’s challenge called for corn husks.

Too lazy to go out and buy a new package, I decided to use parchment paper instead. In that same spirit of laziness, I opted for the proposed vegan filling, even though I made the very non-vegan lard-infused dough. Assembling the tamales was easy enough, and I used my Asian bamboo baskets for the steaming.

But when the tamales were cooked, I tasted a tiny piece of the dough, and decided I didn’t care for it much. Something about the texture, the way it came apart, and also something about the flavour... Keep in mind that I had never had tamales before, and therefore had no reference. I only knew that I wasn’t wild about what I had made. While doing some research (even when I’m lazy, I still do research, because I am a flaming geek), I found that some people liked to reheat their tamales by frying them. In my book, frying makes everything better, and crispy seemed like a better option than the crumbly, wet-yet-dry texture I had obtained. Into the oiled skillet they went.

Having lovingly stacked and photographed the tamales, Laurent and I dug in. Then stopped. Then looked at each other.

“I’ll make us something else,” I said matter-of-factly, and got up to look for those homemade gyoza I knew were in the freezer.

I now knew what the problem was. It wasn’t the recipe, it wasn’t even my technique. My masa (corn) mix had gone bad. It gave off that horrible stale, bitter, rancid aftertaste. It’s strange, because I made corn tortillas not that long ago, and they were fine; it’s hard to imagine the mix could have gone so bad so quickly. I should have noticed it while making the dough, the smell should have tipped me off. For some reason, it hadn’t. At the very least, I should have noticed it when tasting the dough right out of the steamer, but maybe the steam had temporarily masked the taste. Or maybe I was just distracted.

While I was cooking the gyoza, Laurent had fun salvaging the filling by picking it out of the tamales. He even took pictures.

So, not a particularly glorious start to the year. Obviously, this was completely my fault. But I think I’m going to order tamales from a restaurant before attempting to make them again. And, obviously, I’m going to buy a new bag of masa mix.

My thanks to Maranda for a great challenge idea, and my apologies for screwing it up so badly. If you want to look at real tamales, please look at the Daring Cooks’ blog roll. And if you want to make your own, check out the challenge recipes. Just make sure your masa mix is fresh.

Happy New Year - Schmaltz, Gribenes, and Almost Kosher Chowder

Happy New Year to you all! I hope you celebrated to your heart's content! Me, well... We were supposed to go out into the countryside, like last year, but I got sick. Nothing serious, but I was not up to frolicking in the snow, or even driving over to the chalet. So we just stayed in, and Laurent made us cacio e pepe spaghetti for dinner - not quite typical for a New Year's feast, but it was exactly the comfort food I needed.

My cold took a long time to heal, but yesterday I was finally up to cooking. Again, I veered toward comfort food, and made chowder. However, once again, it wasn't quite traditional.

I call this chowder "almost kosher" because it contains no pork. It does, however, contain dairy and chicken, so the title of fully kosher is out the window. But that doesn't really matter, since there is not an ounce of Jewish blood in me. So why did I substitute the pork? Simply because I had a lot of schmaltz to use.


(One needs to be very careful when opening what looks like a jar of jam in our house, because they usually contain something else.)

Why did I have schmaltz on hand? Well, it all started several month's ago, when I read David Sax's Save the Deli. I'll post more extensively about this book later, but suffice it to say the author went on a North American tour of Jewish delis, ate a heck of a lot of pastrami and chicken soup, and schmaltz is inevitably mentioned on every other page. Schmaltz, you're probably aware, is rendered chicken fat, and can replace most oils and fats in cooking. I was intrigued by how this influenced the taste of preparations; duck fat makes a big difference, so what of schmaltz?

Unfortunately, I had no idea where to find schmaltz. But since we were already regularly buying whole chickens, boning them, and saving the carcasses to make stock, I took it one step further, and started putting aside all the chicken skin and fat, and saving it in a Ziploc bag in the freezer. Then, when the bag was full, and I had over three pounds of fatty scraps, I rendered it, using the method indicated in Jennifer MacLagan's Fat. Thus, I ended up with two full cups of beautiful schmaltz, and a cup full of gribenes, which are basically chicken cracklings: the crispy bits of skin left over from the rendering process. I usually don't eat the skin off roast chicken, but this was something else: so crispy and delicious! We put them in soups, salads, and even just nibbled on them.

So, the gribenes were easy to dispose of, but for some reason we've been slow to use the schmaltz. Like I said, it can replace butter in most recipes, but we were so overloaded with leftovers (ours and other people's) that we didn't cook for several days. And when we did, they weren't really the kind of recipes where the substitution would be made.


So when I decided to make chowder, I was determined to use the stuff. I drew inspiration from a recipe by Jamie Oliver, but used schmaltz instead of pork fat, and the remaining gribenes instead of bacon. I also adapted the broth-to-dairy ratio. Obviously fresh corn would have been best, but in this season, canned corn had to do. And I used Nordic shrimp, for a local touch.

There was definitely a subtle difference in flavour: less smoky than if I had used bacon, but still more gamey than if I had used butter. I wouldn't say any version is flat-out better than the others, but it's nice to have options. Either way, this soup is a very flavourful and easy meal for a lazy weekday.


Schmaltz and Gribenes

450 g (1 pound) or more of chicken fat and skin

Cut the chicken skin in small pieces. Place them in a heavy-bottomed pan over low heat, and let the fat melt, stirring occasionally, until the skin begins to grow crispy. This can take several hours (between two and four).

Alternately, if you are rendering a large amount of fat, put the chicken skin in a Dutch oven and place in an oven preheated to 120ºC (250ºF). Bake until skin begins to grow crispy, which will take several hours.

In both cases, when the skin is just getting crispy and brown, drain out the rendered fat and strain it through a cheesecloth into a heatproof container. Return the skin to the pan and cook over medium low heat until it is very crispy golden brown. Strain the remaining fat through the cheesecloth, and place the skin on paper towels to absorb the fat.

Store the schmaltz in a clean airtight container in the fridge for up to two weeks. Store the gribenes similarly, and consume them within a couple of days. You should obtain approximately 1 cup of schmaltz for every pound (450g) of chicken skin.



Almost Kosher Chowder
Adapted from Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution

Serves 4-6

2 tbsp schmaltz
One leek, cut in half lengthwise and sliced crosswise
450g (1 pound) of potatoes (approximately 3 large), peeled and cubed
500 ml (2 cups) chicken or vegetable broth
500 ml (2 cups) milk
375 ml (1 1/2 cup) canned or frozen corn
225 g (1/2 pound) Nordic shrimp, fresh or frozen and thawed
250 ml (1 cup) heavy cream

For garnish:
Gribenes
Fresh dill
Fresh red chili pepper, seeded and chopped


In a large saucepan, melt the schmaltz over medium heat. Add the leek and potatoes, and cook, stirring often, until leek is soft. Add the broth and milk, along with the shrimp and corn, and simmer for 10 minutes, until potatoes are tender and soup is somewhat thickened. Reduce heat, stir in the cream, and continue cooking until heated through.

Divide in bowls and top with garnish just before serving.

Daring Cooks' June Challenge - Potato Salad

Jami Sorrento was our June Daring Cooks hostess and she chose to challenge us to celebrate the humble spud by making a delicious and healthy potato salad. The Daring Cooks Potato Salad Challenge was sponsored by the nice people at the United States Potato Board, who awarded prizes to the top 3 most creative and healthy potato salads. A medium-size (5.3 ounce) potato has 110 calories, no fat, no cholesterol, no sodium and includes nearly half your daily value of vitamin C and has more potassium than a banana!

Bet you thought I was gone for good, huh? Actually, I’ve been away on holiday for the past two weeks. We visited my parents in Strasbourg, then drove up to Belgium to visit other relatives. Overall, it was a pleasant stay, except for all the concern about the E coli outburst in Germany. My mother was especially worried about it, so we had to steer clear of cucumbers and tomatoes until the source of the bacteria was found. The culprit, as you know, turned out to be organic sprouts – and, ironically enough, we did have bean sprouts once, at a Vietnamese restaurant. Fortunately, there were no consequences.

Anyways, when we got home last night, the first thing I did was make a gazpacho. Oh, delicious glutamatey tomatoes, how I missed you! And you too, cucumber, salt’s best friend!

Now, believe it or not, I did plan ahead for this trip, and had a few posts already typed up, with photographs pre-selected and uploaded onto my travel netbook: I was all prepared for posting on the road. However, as I mentioned in my last post, I’ve been having some problems with Blogger. At first, I thought it was just because of Internet Explorer 9, but then there turned out to be other problems, which affected my ability to comment on other blogs, among other things. So, if you haven’t received a comment from me in weeks, it’s not just because I’ve been travelling, it’s also because Blogger wouldn’t let me! So, rather than tear my hair out in front of my low-capacity netbook during my vacation, I decided to just steer clear of the blog until I got home, for sanity’s sake.

But enough about that. Let’s talk about this month’s Daring Cooks challenge. You’ve probably figured out that the reason I’m posting late is that I only got home yesterday evening.

I admit I was underwhelmed when I first found out about the challenge: “exciting” isn’t exactly the word that most readily comes to mind when you think about potato salad. On the other hand, I was grateful for the challenge’s simplicity, as I had precious little time to get it done before leaving. Laurent’s father pitched in, as he often does, by giving me a bag of small potatoes, which he himself had received from someone.


I have no idea what kind of potatoes these were. But they were firm, like fingerlings, and perfect for salads.

I rather felt like improvising, for once, instead of following the challenge recipes. Potato salad isn’t a staple on our table, but we have made different versions at different times. And, although potatoes have a bad rap for being starchy, carb-y, and figure-unfriendly, our hostess was quite right to insist that the potato is an essentially healthy and nutritious ingredient, provided it’s prepared right. You can literally live on boiled potatoes, which you can’t do on bread or rice alone.

Anyways, I flipped through my potato-themed cookbook (because of course I have a potato-themed cookbook), and came upon a recipe which called for smoked salmon (of which I had a slab in the fridge that was in need of being eaten) and tarragon (one of my favourite herbs). The light, oily dressing also appealed to me: I’ve never been a huge fan of mayo-based dressings – Caesar salads excluded.



The potatoes were roasted for this salad, not boiled, which made for an interesting texture. Other than that, the capers, cornichons, and vinegar gave it plenty of acidity, which I also liked. I changed a few things from the original recipe, adding more tarragon and cutting back on the oil. All in all, it was a good meal, and a salad I’m glad to have tested.

I may be late, but it’s never too late to check out the challenge recipes, as well as the other Daring Cooks’ deeds! See you all soon!


Smoked Salmon Potato Salad
Adapted from Paul Gayler's Tout un plat – Patates

Serves two as a meal, four as a first course

400g potatoes
2 tsbp olive oil
Salt, to taste

For the dressing:
1 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp xeres vinegar
Freshly ground pepper, to taste

For garnish:
2 scallions, finely sliced crosswise
10 cornichons, finely chopped
2 tbsp capers, rinsed
2 hard-boiled eggs, chopped
2 tbsp tarragon, chopped
200g smoked salmon, sliced and cut into bite-sized pieces


Preheat oven to 190ºC (375ºF) Scrub the potatoes clean and cut them into bite-sized pieces. Drizzle them with oil and toss until they are evenly coated. Place on a baking sheet or roasting pan, and roast for 30 minutes, or until the potatoes are cooked through, turning the potatoes over two or three times in the process. Sprinkle with salt and let cool until just warm. Transfer to a salad bowl.

Combine all the ingredients for the dressing, drizzle over the potatoes, and toss. Add the scallions, cornichons, capers, eggs, and tarragon, and toss to combine. Divide among plates, and garnish with smoked salmon.

Daring Cooks' April Challenge - Edible Containers

Renata of Testado, Provado & Aprovado! was our Daring Cooks’ April 2011 hostess. Renata challenged us to think “outside the plate” and create our own edible containers! Prizes are being awarded to the most creative edible container and filling, so vote on your favorite from April 17th to May 16th at http://thedaringkitchen.com!

This month’s Daring Cooks’ challenge was definitely one of my favourites ever. It was tons of fun, and so inspiring. There’s something about edible containers that brings out the kid in me – and judging from the funky dishes I’ve seen on the Daring Kitchen forums, I’m not the only one!

But since I have a tendency to overthink everything (staying in school forever will do that to you), it wasn’t long before I started wondering: “What exactly qualifies as a container?” I mean, if a container is considered to be anything that holds your food together, then doesn’t the rice paper in spring rolls qualify as an edible container? What about the crust in a tartlet? But those didn’t seem like particularly creative options, and creativity is what this challenge was all about.

Anyways, after a few days of pondering, I decided to forget about solving the problem, and just have fun. A few things I’ve already posted on this blog featured edible containers, such as my baked eggs in a bread ramekin, and Laurent’s parmesan salad bowls. But I wanted to make something new.

The first thing I tried was a recipe from the beautiful blog La Tartine Gourmande: smoked salmon potato nests. They were very easy to make, and tasted so delicious, with such lovely contrasts of textures and temperatures. And don’t they just look adorable?

I then tried one of the challenge recipes: a noodle salad bowl. Noodle bowls in Chinese restaurants are usually fried, but this one was baked. It was a little tricky weaving the noodles together, and I was afraid they wouldn’t crisp up properly, but they did. Served with a cool salad of baby greens, grated carrot and cucumbers, with a sesame oil dressing, this bowl was a wonderful nibble.

Finally, I experimented with choux pastry. It’s definitely not the ideal dough for this kind of challenge, as it rises a lot in the oven. I wanted to make choux pastry cups, so I lined ramekins with dough, and had to keep pushing the dough down during the baking process. The cups took a long time to bake, too. But the result was worth it: they were crisp, and their rich taste made them the perfect container for a creamy filling. I would recommend these as a substitute for puff pastry shells in vols-aux-vent (which we’ve already made for the Daring Bakers).

The filling was also an experiment, but a less successful one. I made a béchamel with shallots and lemon, and poached pieces of white fish and Nordic shrimp in it, adding a spoonful of chopped tarragon at the end. But somehow, the whole thing was rather bland, and the wonderful flavour of the Nordic shrimp had disappeared. It needs work.

Below are the recipes for the potato nests and the choux pastry bowls. I want to thank Renata for this amazing challenge! I encourage you to take a look at the other Daring Cooks’ edible containers, because people have really outdone themselves this month. And if you get inspired and want to give it a try, the challenge recipes are here. Also, we’re having a contest this month, so please vote for your favourite dishes over at the Daring Kitchen!

Smoked Salmon Potato Nests

Adapted from a recipe from La Tartine Gourmande

Yields 12 units

3 medium russet potatoes, peeled
1 egg
1 tbsp flour
Salt and pepper
3 tbsp unsalted butter, melted
60 ml (1/4 cup) crème fraîche
1 tbsp lemon juice
1 tsp pink peppercorns, crushed
4-6 slices of smoked salmon
Dill sprigs, for garnish
Fleur de sel, for sprinkling

Preheat oven to 180ºC (350ºF). Rinse the potatoes to remove part of the starch. Grate them in a food processor. Lightly beat the egg and mix it into the potatoes. Season the flour with salt and pepper and incorporate it into the potatoes. Brush a mini muffin tin with melted butter. Divide the potato mixture among the muffin tins, shaping them into little nests. Brush the inside of the nests with butter. Bake for approximately 30 minutes, or until crisp and golden brown. Let cool until just warm.

Combine the crème fraîche with the lemon juice. Divide the salmon among the potato nests, and add a dollop of crème fraîche into each. Garnish with pink peppercorns and dill, sprinkle with fleur de sel, and serve.

Choux Pastry Cups

Yields 5 cups

4 whole eggs 100g (1/2 cup) unsalted butter, diced
Pinch of salt
125g (7/8 cup) flour
240ml (1 cup) water

Preheat oven to 180ºC (350ºF). Heat the water with the butter and the salt in a saucepan over medium heat, until the butter is melted. Remove from heat and add the flour, all at once. Return to heat and cook, stirring constantly and making sure to hydrate all of the flour, until you obtain a smooth, shiny dough that does not stick to the pan. Remove from heat and stir in the eggs, one by one.

Butter five small ramekins. Divide the choux pastry among them, pressing to line the ramekins with the dough. Bake for at least 40 minutes. During the baking process, check on your cups regularly, pressing down on the dough whenever it rises in the bottom, so as to preserve the shape of the cups. The finished cups should be crisp and dry. Let cool in the turned off oven, to finish drying completely. Serve with the savoury filling of your choice.

Cauliflower Soup with Scallops

I’ve just gotten through a pretty intense couple of weeks. My apologies for the lack of posting here, as well as my lack of commenting on anyone’s blogs. But I finally got a proper night’s sleep on Friday, and woke up not feeling terrified of everything I needed to do – instead, I woke up feeling like it’s the weekend, which hasn’t happened in a long time (weekends have just been slightly more mellow work days, recently).

In other words, I’m back.

I admit Laurent has been picking up the slack, and doing most of the cooking recently (so I’ve at least been eating well, if not sleeping well). But I haven’t been completely absent from the kitchen, and so I have a soup to share with you today. It’s adapted from a recipe by Louis-François Marcotte.

Cauliflower and scallops are not something I would have thought to combine, yet once the idea was popped into my head, it seemed to make sense. This soup confirms that they actually work very, very well together. Marcotte’s original recipe uses light cream, but milk works as well, although you inevitably lose richness. He also adds a few mushrooms pickled in vinegar, but I personally think this overwhelms the delicate flavours of the main ingredients.

Serve this as an elegant first course, or a light main course (in which case you might consider adding more scallops).

Cauliflower soup with scallops
Adapted from Sexy: Cuisiner pour Deux, by Louis-François Marcotte

Serves 6 as a first course

1 leek, white part only, washed, sliced lengthwise, and chopped
1 head of cauliflower, washed and cut into florets
1 1/2 litre (6 cups) chicken stock
360 ml (1 1/2 cup) whole milk
18 raw scallops
2 tbsp butter
1 tbsp olive oil
Chopped dill, for garnish
Salt and pepper, to taste
6 dollops crème fraîche (optional)

In a large saucepan, melt 1 tbsp butter over medium-low heat. Toss in the leeks, salt lightly, and cook, stirring frequently, until leeks are tender. Add the stock and cauliflower, bring to a boil, and simmer until the cauliflower is very tender, about 30 minutes. Let cool and purée in a blender, or with a hand mixer. Return to saucepan and stir in the milk. Warm over medium-low heat, until soup is heated through. Keep warm until ready to serve.

Pat the scallops dry and season with salt. Melt the remaining tbsp of butter with the tbsp of olive oil in a skillet over medium-high heat. Sear the scallops under browned, about 1 minute on each side. Remove from the pan.

To serve: Divide the soup among heated bowls. Put 3 scallops into each bowl, spoon the crème fraîche in if using, sprinkle with chopped dill, season with freshly ground black pepper, and serve immediately.

Daring Cooks February Challenge - Hiyashi Soba and Tempura

The February 2011 Daring Cooks’ challenge was hosted by Lisa of Blueberry Girl. She challenged Daring Cooks to make Hiyashi Soba and Tempura. She has various sources for her challenge including japanesefood.about.com, pinkbites.com, and itsybitsyfoodies.com

Lord knows I’m always up for making Japanese food. We had a big sushi party here, a couple of weeks ago. The guests pitched in and took a shot at rolling their own maki, while I looked over their shoulder and pretended to be an expert. It was fun!

So I was pleased to discover this month’s DC challenge: cold soba and tempura. Laurent and I have made tempura before, but it had been a while. And it had been even longer since we’d had soba at home. We usually prefer udon or ramen, which are less healthy, but milder tasting. And we usually serve them in hot soups, rather than cold. But I had hiyashi soba several times last summer in Japan, and they were a refreshing delight on a hot, muggy day.

I don’t have much to report this month. I mistakenly thought I had a pack of soba left in the pantry, and had to run out and substitute what I could find. Technically, I used buckwheat lomein, but I’m fairly sure they only differ from soba by their shape. I probably should have rinsed the cooked noodles a little more, as they stuck together a bit. But a little bit of spicy dipping sauce (very zippy, by the way!) did the trick and made them slurp-a-licious!

For the tempura, I was pleased to learn a couple of tricks to improve results, such as keeping everything cold prior to frying, and putting the fried pieces of food on a rack to drip their excess oil, instead of blotting them on paper towels. This was definitely the crispiest, lightest tempura we ever made! It was also our first time using shiitake and eggplants for this dish (we usually stick to shrimp), and we enjoyed both, especially the mushrooms.

Thanks, Lisa, for this challenge and for all the info!

Please check out the Daring Cooks’ blogroll to see what everyone else cooked up this week. And visit The Daring Kitchen to look at this month’s challenge recipes.

Taking on the Double Down - Sicilian Sandwich

Today, my friend and fellow blogger Victor of Random Cuisine celebrates his blog’s second anniversary. Happy blogaversary, Victor, keep up the good work and the good cooking!

For this occasion, Victor asked some of us to take part in a very unique challenge: to make our own version of KFC’s infamous Double Down. This much talked-about breadless sandwich consists in two fried chicken filets, surrounding a filling of bacon, two kinds of cheeses, and “secret sauce.” While not quite as humongous as Friendly’s Grilled Cheese Burger Melt (a burger in which the bun has been replaced by two grilled cheese sandwiches), the Double Down is still an impressive piece of decadence.

My first thought after agreeing to take on Victor’s challenge was “How on Earth am I going to make this nutritionally acceptable?” I love me some fried food, but something about eating two stacked fried filets makes my stomach quiver in fear (oddly enough, this does not apply to burgers, as I’ve eaten my share of Bic Macs). So, I tried to think of something that could be stacked, and that wasn’t bread – because, of course, that would just result in a sandwich, and would defeat the purpose.

I finally stumbled on an idea while flipping through Stefano Faita’s Entre Cuisine et Quincaillerie: the Sicilian sandwich. Two thick slices of eggplant, breaded and grilled (or fried), and sandwiched around a slice of prosciutto and melted cheese. It sounded like a worthy Double Down substitute.

I followed the principle of the Double Down and used two different kinds of cheese: parmesan and smoked cacciocavallo. I replaced the bacon with crispy pancetta, and my “secret sauce” was a basil coulis. It was a pretty good combination, and very satisfying.

Thanks for the challenge, Victor, and congrats!



Sicilian Sandwich
Adapted from Stefano Faita’s Entre Cuisine et Quincaillerie
Serves 2

One large eggplant
6 slices of pancetta
Two slices of smoked cacciocavallo cheese
A few shards of parmesan cheese
A big handful of fresh basil leaves
Salt and pepper
Olive oil
Bread crumbs


Preheat oven to 180ºC (350ºF).

Make the coulis: Put the basil, salt and pepper in a food processor. Pulse until finely shredded. Gradually pour in olive oil, until you obtain a smooth, liquid sauce. Set aside.

Cut four 1 cm (1/2 inch) slices into the eggplant. Brush both sides of each slice with olive oil, then coat them in bread crumbs. Heat some more oil in a pan over high heat, and fry the eggplant slices until cooked through and browned on both sides. Remove from heat and reserve.

Fry the pancetta in a pan over high heat, until crispy. Remove from heat and reserve.

Divide the parmesan, cacciocavallo and pancetta in two and place them over two eggplant slices. Drizzle with basil coulis, and complete the sandwiches with the remaining eggplant slices. Place on a baking sheet and bake in the oven until cheese is melted. Drizzle more basil coulis, and serve immediately.

Product Review - Dried Chanterelle Powder from O Gourmet

I was recently asked to do a product review for O Gourmet, an online food store physically located in Montreal. As their name indicates, they specialize in fine products. They have quite a selection, and their site is also very informative, even offering detailed guides about berries, plants, vinegars, mushrooms, and pâtés. They also offer a variety of local foods, which of course deserves a thumbs up.

Because I mentioned that I love cooking with mushrooms, they offered to send me some dried chanterelle mushroom powder. (By the way, these pictures were taken after I’d used up more than half of the powder for my test recipes – sorry about that.)

Although I’ve cooked with dehydrated mushrooms before, I had never used them in this form. I did some pondering before deciding what kind of dish to incorporate the powder in. Chanterelles aren’t all that easy to find in my neighbourhood (although you can find them in season at open-air markets), so I haven’t had the good fortune of tasting them very often, but I did know they had a fairly delicate flavour (especially when compared to shiitake or porcini), so I wanted something that wouldn’t overwhelm it. In the end, I created two recipes.

The first was a mushroom bread. I’ve been taking up bread baking more or less seriously again, after a lengthy break, and have been indulging in sandwiches made with homemade whole wheat bread on a nearly daily basis (I bake two large loaves every two weeks, slice them and freeze them for future use). Mushroom bread has always been on my list of things to make, and this seemed like a perfect opportunity. It was also the first time I attempted to create an original bread recipe: until now, I’d merely followed published recipes, tweaking them here and there. I can’t say this is a particularly daring recipe (I followed generally accepted guidelines), but it was a great experience to find my own balance, and tweak the dough so as to obtain the kind of bread that I’m most fond of.


I chose to make rolls, crusty on the outside and soft on the inside. I incorporated the chanterelle powder directly into the dough, and also added some rehydrated dried wild mushrooms, to add some texture and flavour contrast. The result was very satisfactory (heck, I was pleased as a peacock with my first original bread), and while the chanterelles’ taste was subtle, you could definitely taste the hazelnutty hint in the crumb.


The second recipe I tried was a mushroom risotto. Once again, I tried not to overwhelm the chanterelles’ flavour. I sautéed some portobello and shiitake mushrooms separately, and sprinkled in the chanterelle powder as I simmered the rice in chicken stock, before tossing in the cooked mushrooms. The powder added some colour to the rice, and once again, the flavour was there.



I enjoyed experimenting with chanterelle powder. And, being a mushroom fiend, I have a feeling I’m going to be experimenting with other powders very soon!


Mushroom Rolls

Yields 12 small rolls

2 tsp instant yeast
500 ml (2 cups) warm water (about 37.7 ºC, 100 ºF)
2 tbsp olive oil
560 g (4 cups) bread flour
2 tsp sea salt
2 tbsp dried chanterelle powder
25-30 g (1 oz) dehydrated wild mushrooms (e.g. shiitake, oyster mushrooms, boletes etc.)

Rehydrate the dried mushrooms according to the package instructions.

Pour the warm water into a large mixing bowl, sprinkle the yeast into it and whisk to dissolve.

Combine 140 g (1 cup) of flour with the salt and chanterelle powder, and whisk it into the water mixture, along with the oil and the rehydrated mushrooms. Gradually add the rest of the flour, stirring with a wooden spoon. Switch to kneading with your hands when the tough becomes too sticky and tough. The dough should be smooth, soft, and tacky by the end.

Oil the bowl and the dough with olive oil, cover with plastic wrap and let rise for 30 minutes.

Knead the dough for about 20 strokes, oil and cover again, and let rise for 90 minutes, or until doubled in size.

Separately tack two baking sheets on top of two other baking sheets. Cover the top sheets with parchment paper.

Transfer the dough onto a lightly floured surface. Divide it into 12 equal portions and form each portion into a ball. Place the balls onto the prepared baking sheets, cover lightly with plastic wrap, and let rise for 45 minutes.

Place a rack at the center of your oven, and another just below. Fill a heatproof baking pan two-thirds of the way up with hot water, place it in the lover rack of the oven, and preheat oven to 220 ºC (425 ºF).

Spray your rolls with water and put them on the center rack of the oven. Bake for 25-30 minutes, until golden brown, rotating the sheets halfway through the baking time. Remove the rolls from the baking sheets and let cool on racks.

You can freeze the baked rolls for future use.



Mushroom Risotto

Serves 2-3

150g (5 oz) fresh shiitake mushrooms, stemmed and diced
200 g (7 oz) fresh portobello mushrooms, stemmed and diced
3 tbsp olive oil
1 onion, diced
200 g (7 oz) carnaroli rice
1 litre (4 cups) homemade chicken stock
2 tbsp dried chanterelle powder
Salt and pepper, to taste


Heat the chicken stock over low heat.

Heat half of the olive oil in a skillet or wok, over medium-high heat. Add the diced mushrooms, salt lightly, and sauté until browned. Transfer the mushrooms to a plate or bowl, and reserve.

In a large saucepan, heat the remaining olive oil, over medium heat. Add the onion, and cook until soft and translucent, stirring quite often. Add the rice, and stir until the grains are coated with oil, about 1 minute. Pour in a ladleful of chicken stock, and stir constantly until all the stock has been absorbed. Pour in another ladleful of stock, then add the chanterelle powder, still stirring constantly. Continue adding the stock gradually, always stirring, until the rice is cooked al dente (if you run out of stock, add water instead). Toward the end of the cooking process, toss in the cooked mushrooms, and stir to combine and heat through. Adjust seasoning and serve immediately.

Don't Judge a Book By Its Cover - Cauliflower and Ham Casserole

I’ve been on the fence about whether or not to post today’s recipe. Mostly because of the way it looks.

See, if I try to shoot it before cutting it open, it looks like a perfectly nice, comforting, but unfortunately anonymous cheesy casserole. It could be anything hiding under that layer of cheese.

However, if I try to photograph it after cutting a piece out, it looks like… Well, it looks like this. And I don’t think I need to tell you what else it resembles, I think it’s crossed all of your minds.

So, lesson learned: it’s pretty much impossible to make this cauliflower casserole look good on a picture. Trust me, it looked even worse when served on a plate. And closeups? Forget about it. It’s just not a photogenic dish. I could lose the béchamel on the bottom layer, which would make it less liquid and less… un-food-like-looking; but then I would lose all the creaminess and richness. Although in all fairness, I added too much milk to my sauce: there shouln't have been that much liquid. Another lesson learned.

However, in spite of its appearance, this casserole is pretty great. It’s a one-dish meal, with all the vegetables, protein and calcium you’ll need for dinner. Running some ham through a food processor and adding it to the sauce really boosts the flavour.

So, for once, don’t look too much at the picture. I can guarantee that the smell of this baby coming out of the oven will make you forget all about its looks.


Cauliflower and Ham Casserole

Serves 4-6

2 heads cauliflower
5 medium slices of ham
80g (3 oz, 3/4 cup) smoked cheese, grated (e.g. mozzarella or Jarlsberg)
80g (3 oz, 3/4 cup) cheddar cheese, grated
4 tbsp flour
A pinch of nutmeg
Milk, as needed
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste


Preheat your oven to 180ºC (350ºF)

Wash and cut the cauliflower into fairly thick florets. Bring a pot of salted water to a boil and blanch the cauliflower, until al dente. Drain and dunk into cold water to cool. Once cooled, pat dry with a clean towel or paper towels. Reserve.

Run the ham through a food processor, until it is cut very thin, almost crumb-like. Reserve.

In a skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. Stir in the flour, and cook, stirring constantly, until the mixture begins to brown. Whisk in milk gradually, a little at a time, until your béchamel sauce has acquired a smooth, but still rather thick consistency (it will liquefy more in the oven).

Toss in the ham and cheddar with the sauce and stir to combine. Add the cauliflower and coat the florets with the sauce. Season with pepper (salt will probably not be necessary, given the ham and cheese.)

Transfer the mixture to a casserole or baking dish, in an even layer. Sprinkle with the smoked cheese. Bake, uncovered, for about 20 minutes, or until cheese is melted and bubbly. Let cool 5 minutes before serving.

I'm back! - Wakame Salad

Greetings, all! My apologies for the prolonged silence, but life once again conspired against me. I had comprehensive predoctoral exams to deal with, and then I went to visit my parents for two weeks. I did cook a little with my mother while I was there, including some blogworthy dishes – but somehow, I kept forgetting to photograph and document them. You know how it is when you’re on holiday.

Anyways, I’m back now, and ready to try and breathe some life back into this blog. Although I’ll admit my choice of topic for this first entry in a long time is not necessarily the most alluring, at least for a lot of people: I’m talking about wakame, a.k.a seaweed, salad.

I can hear the groans and feel the shudders: “Seaweed, ewww!” Or not… A decade ago, definitely, but now? Most people living in large (and not so large) Western cities have tasted seaweed, albeit mostly under the guise of nori-wrapped sushi. And I’m fairly confident most foodies have given other types of seaweed a whirl – and that a reasonable proportion must have liked it.

My mother, who grew up in Vietnam, tells me that she used to eat seaweed all the time as a child, namely in the form of dessert (I haven’t yet attempted to make the sweet dish she described to me, but it has coconut milk in it, and it sounds quite tempting). I, however, like most Western-raised kids, scrunched up my nose at the very idea. Seaweeds were slimy, disgusting things that grew on the icky bottom of the sea and tickled your feet in the most repulsive way as you swam over them. Well, I still very much dislike being brushed by seaweed while taking a dip in the ocean (I don’t like to think too much about what lurks under the water), but I’ve become a true fan of eating seaweed. So has Laurent, who has taken to snacking on nori strips, instead of chips. He’s even tried out a recipe by Laure Kié, which is basically a pizza margherita sprinkled with arugula and nori strips at the last minute. Sound weird? I thought so too. But it was surprisingly good, which makes sense when you remember that tomatoes, like nori, have high levels of umami.

I, for my part, am partial to wakame. I overload my miso soups with them. And before leaving on holiday, I would eat them as a salad at least a couple of times a week. I usually use this recipe, which includes quick cucumber pickles (basically cucumbers that have been salted and pressed). The awesome thing about this salad, apart from the addictive flavour, is that it is really, really low in fat (even more so it you omit the sesame seeds, which are my own addition). The dressing, a mixture of rice vinegar and sugar, contains no oil whatsoever, and yet it’s full of flavour. Of course, if you really wanted to add some richness, you could probably add some sesame oil, which would definitely work well with the other flavours; soy sauce would fit in, too. But if you ask me, that’s not even necessary: the light sweet-and-acidic flavour already works. I also love the textures in this salad: the chewy wakame and the still-crunchy cucumbers are a real party in my mouth.

Granted, some people don’t, and never will, like seaweed. Which is fine, as long as they dislike it for its taste, and not because of what it is. I’m not going to run the list of common foods that should technically gross us out, because you all probably have a list in your head already. And I have my own hang-ups about certain kinds of food (I’m not going to tell you which, though – knowledge is power, and some of my friends love a good dare). But my disgust of seaweed is definitely one which I am glad I overcame.

Daring Cooks' September Challenge - Food Preservation

The September 2010 Daring Cooks’ challenge was hosted by John of Eat4Fun. John chose to challenge The Daring Cooks to learn about food preservation, mainly in the form of canning and freezing. He challenged everyone to make a recipe and preserve it. John’s source for food preservation information was from The National Center for Home Food Preservation.

This month’s Daring Cooks’ Challenge was a bit different than usual: it was focused around techniques, rather than recipes. This challenge was all about preserving food, either through freezing or canning. I’m a big fan of freezing, but canning was entirely new to me. The process seemed long and scary, and I’ve just never felt the need for it. Truth be told, we don’t have a lot of shelf space around here, what with all the kitchen gadgets and pantry staples like rice, oil, and sugar (not to mention four different kinds of flour). Recently, I’ve taken to making my own pickles, but I’ve never bothered to sterilize and seal them – simply because pickles around here never seem to last long enough to warrant the trouble!

Still, canning has always felt like something I should at least do once. So I went for it. Our host, John, had given us recipes for apple butter and bruschetta, but I chose to go a slightly different route (I hope that’s okay). I wanted to can something I knew I would use often, for different things: so I went for simple Italian tomatoes.

I got the “recipe” (more like a process) from Josée di Stasio’s book Pasta Et Cetera. Tomato season is winding down here, but I was still able to get my hands on some gorgeous red tomatoes. Prepping them for canning was easy, just a little time consuming: make a small, cross-shaped incision at the base of the tomato, then put them into boiling water for about a minute, until the skin begins to come off. Then dunk them into ice water. When they are cool enough to handle, peel them and remove the peduncle. Finally, cut them in half and remove the seeds.I ended up cutting them into large chunks, for easier future use.

Then, you have to put the tomatoes in jars, with a couple of basil leaves, pushing down to remove air pockets, and leaving a headspace of about 1 inch (2.5 cm). FYI, I counted about thirty tomatoes for eleven 125 ml (1 cup) jars. Then you put the closed jars (don’t wind the lid too tightly) into the canner.

In my case, the “canner” was a large pot of boiling water, lined with a dishcloth. NOTE: make sure to put the jars into the cool or lukewarm water first, and then bring to a boil (otherwise, the jars might crack from the thermal shock) Unfortunately, two of my jars were underfilled (I ran out of tomatoes), and started to float. This was not good, because the jars needed to be submerged with boiling water. Fortunately, we figured out a solution: more jars on top!

After 20 minutes of boiling, I took the jars out and let them cool overnight. Within minutes, they all made the characteristic “ping” sound that indicates all the air has been sucked out of the jar. And now, I have a stock of summer tomatoes to keep me through the winter! Now, if only I could find room to store the jars…

Thanks, John, for this very interesting challenge, and also for all the information you provided! I learned a lot, and it was definitely worth the effort!

Last Summery Meal - Tuna Bean Salad

Fall has definitely arrived. I quite like this time of year, actually, and can’t wait for the leaves to start changing. Fall also signifies the return of my appetite for hearty comfort food, like stews, chunky soups, hot pots… Good bye gazpacho, hello osso bucco!

But, in memory of summer, here’s one last summery dish. Okay, actually, it’s something I made months ago, and completely forgot to post about. But I didn’t want it to go to waste. Plus, it can still make a nice side dish during the rest of the year.

This tuna bean salad is as simple as can be, and there are probably hundreds of it like it all over the food blogosphere, but it’s still a winner. This was pretty much an ad-lib, so proportions are approximate. This is one of the few recipes in which I use tuna canned in oil (Rio Mare brand, to be precise). I’m usually more of a water-canned kind of person, but this salad is really boosted by the oily richness. You can add salt if you wish, but the olives should be enough.

Anyways, let’s give summer a proper send-off, in order to welcome fall!


Tuna Bean Salad

Serves 2 as a meal, 4 as a side dish

One 540 ml (14 oz) can of cannellini beans, drained and rinsed (or substitute with any other kind of white bean)
One can of tuna marinated in olive oil
Juice of one lemon
A big handful of fresh basil leaves, chopped
120 ml (1/2 cup) green olives, sliced
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Combine all the ingredients in a large salad bowl, making sure to include the oil from the tuna can, and toss.

We Love Leftovers - Asian Sesame Chicken Salad

In our kitchen, Laurent is in charge of preparing and roasting whole chickens. I keep telling myself that one day, I will roll up my sleeves and do the whole thing myself (including cleaning the cavity), just for bragging rights. But in the meantime, he does such a good job at it that I find little incentive to take his place for even a day.

His choice of seasonings varies, but classic choices include garlic, fresh rosemary, and lemons (preserved lemons when available). What’s not to love?

However, I’m usually in charge of finding ways to use the leftovers. I often choose to use the shredded chicken in a salad, depending on what I’m in the mood for. Tex-Mex flavours are a great favourite around here. But the other day, I was in an Asian mood.

I have more (way more) cookbooks than I should, and can usually find a recipe for just about anything. But sometimes, it’s fun to just improvise with whatever’s in the fridge, especially with something as simple as a salad. This one was refreshing and filling, and I was quite pleased with how the sesame dressing came out. Looks like we have a new favourite!

Asian Sesame Chicken Salad
Serves 3-4

1 cucumber, quartered and sliced
1 red pepper, seeded and diced
2 carrots, peeled and grated
2 chicken breasts, roasted, cooled, and shredded
A big handful of coriander leaves, chopped
3 scallions, or a handful of chives, chopped
4 cups mixed baby greens
6-8 large romaine lettuce leaves

For the dressing:
3 tbsp sesame oil
4 tbsp rice vinegar
2 1/2 tbsp soy sauce
3/4 tsp sambal oelek (chili paste), more or less to taste (or substitute with red pepper flakes)
3 garlic cloves, crushed with a garlic press or finely minced
2 tbsp tahini (sesame paste)

In a large salad bowl, toss the cucumber, red pepper, carrots, chicken, herbs, and baby greens together. In a separate small bowl, combine all the dressing ingredients and stir.

To serve: Lay out 2 romaine leaves over each plate. Drizzle a few drops of dressing over each plate. Then pour the rest of the dressing over the chicken salad, toss, and divide the salad among the plates.