Ketchup - Moon Style

I had promised myself I was done pickling and preserving for this year. I don’t seem to be able to stop. I may be making up for last year when I had a week old baby and I was quite certain that the US Open would not have been able to proceed if Tilly and I weren’t  sitting in our chair watching. Perhaps, making pickles is my subconscious excuse to have the US Open on in the background this year because there is no way I can think of to justify sitting in the chair to watch, and Tilly won’t sit still anymore.

Regardless of the reason, I am very happy that, while I was watching the US Open last year, Stephen overbuilt our basement shelves, buckling as they are under the weight of dill pickles and carrots, pickled beets, beet and horseradish relish, bread and butter pickles, blueberry chutney and syrup, mustard relish and salsa not-quite-verde. The freezer lid barely closes, filled with Mason jars full of roasted tomato sauce, strawberry freezer jam, pestos and bags and bags of summer fruit. 

I have vowed to be done after today’s effort, just in time for the US Open finals, so it seems a fitting end.

***

As most children I know do, Poppy has an almost obscene love affair with ketchup. She asks, and is denied mostly, for it on everything. I think that ketchup smeared on everything is almost criminal. Don’t get me wrong, I think it has its place. No fried potato is fully dressed unless it has been plunged in a puddle of the stuff but, I just don’t think it belongs everywhere.

When Feisty Chef tweeted that she was making pickles in The Chronicle Herald earlier this week, I had to have a peak. One of the recipes was an East Indian Tomato Relish that looked like it might just change the face of ketchup as us Moons know it. 

I thought about it all week and, after some careful thought as to what needed to be done and the tweaks I would make, today was the day. Poppy, gowned in her paint splattered Hello Kitty apron and determined to make her own ketchup, pulled a chair up to the counter and watched while I blanched and refreshed 40 tomatoes. She then set about peeling all forty. She wanted to chop the onions but the tears allowed me some elbow room while she counted out the lids for the jars.

I left out the peppers that Feisty Chef uses and changed the quantities of vinegar and sugar. I also doubled the recipe and I am glad I did. It seems like a ridiculously huge amount of tomatoes and onions until it cooks for the better part of three hours and is reduced to about one-third of the original volume.

I added some spices as well but not too much because my intended consumer is four. I also decided to whizz it up with the immersion blender for a smoother texture. It is a lot of prep work and a long cooking time but, I think, the results were very delicious. It is a little more chutney-like than ketchup and next year, I will likely lose some of the sugar but I am really pleased. I would let Poppy dip her grilled cheese in it for sure.

When Poppy tasted it, with her food critic nose crinkle, she said, ‘it tastes good but it isn’t really real ketchup, is it?’

I replied, ‘Isn’t it?’ Under my breath, I was saying, ‘Get used to it toots, there is eleven pints to eat.’

Ketchup - Moon Style inspired by the Feisty Chef’s East Indian Tomato Relish

40 large field tomatoes

8 large onions - chopped

1 tablespoon mustard powder

2 teaspoons five spice powder

1 teaspoon cinnamon

4 tablespoons pickling salt

7 cups sugar

6 cups apple cider vinegar

Boil a large pot of water. Score the bottom of the tomatoes. Plunge them into the boiling water for fifteen seconds or so. Remove with a slotted spoon and plunge them into a large bowl of ice water. You will have to do this in batches so you don’t over cook the tomatoes.

Peel, seed and chop the tomatoes. Put them into a 14-16 quart pot. Add the onions and bring to a boil. Boil for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add the spices, sugar, salt and vinegar. Return to the boil and cook, lowering the heat gradually as the mixture thickens for about two hours. Stir as necessary. When it has cooked down to about six quarts, turn it off. Using an immersion blender, purée until smooth.

Pour or ladle into sterilized jars and seal. 

I then processed this for ten minutes in a water bath canner. You can use a big pot with a rack in the bottom and cover the jars with an inch of water.

This makes 11 pints.

Sea Candy

There is a little farm in the sea near here. Just off of Snake Island, near Graves’ Island, there is a farm hanging in the water. It has been there for at least fifteen years. Not many are aware it is there. In fact, until recently, I had almost forgotten it existed.

Margaret Webb, in Apples to Oysters, writes that no one seems to know it exists. Even the Department of Fisheries and Oceans seemed to have forgotten it was there. She began to call its farmer a ghost farmer.

It is there, of that I have no question. Its produce has been making its way to the little, but lively, Chester Seaside Artisan and Farmers’ Market on Friday afternoons. Making its way in the form of mussels and live scallops, lifted from their suspended net home only hours before. 

To the uninitiated, a whole live scallop could be a little daunting. Hundreds of little eyes stare out at you, the roe, especially in the summer, is fairly large and, to most, unfamiliar. But, one taste, for any seafood lover, would surely win them over. 

We are spoiled for fresh seafood here. Stephen, before he spent much time here, would roll his eyes when, after ordering mussels or scallops somewhere else, I would complain that they weren’t very fresh or that they had been frozen. He now understands and the eye-rolling has been replaced with a raised, ‘Are you sure you want to do that?’ eyebrow if I begin to order seafood he has deemed may be dubious in origin. Chalk up one for Nova Scotia.

These scallops are the freshest of the fresh, and if you ever happen to see them in a restaurant or a fish market, get them. They are alive, they are fresh. They are divine.

I have cooked them twice this summer, once with white wine and garlic and herbs like moules marinière. The second time was on the half shell on the barbecue, which meant, that even if they weren't tastier, at least someone else, namely Stephen, would do the cooking. 

When you cook them on the half shell, the scallop flavour is concentrated as the shell is heated and it is an even more perfect ocean taste. 

I spooned a little bit of a white wine reduction with shallots and garlic and fresh herbs and butter, of course, over the scallop. Then they cook in even more loveliness and are a perfect little bite. Serve them as the main course with a couple of salads. You can also serve them as hors d’oeuvres with a little cocktail fork but make sure that you and your guests leave room for supper. 

The scallops do have to be shucked, but not removed from their shells. This is dead easy as well. None of the fuss or muss of oyster shucking. You have to have a little speed but once you get the hang of it, you will whizz through forty or so scallops in no time. They will likely be slightly open but, if not, let them sit in the sink quietly for a few minutes until they let their ‘guard down’ and open up a little. It’s like the scallop equivalent of a couple of glasses of sauvignon blanc.

I have found myself fairly inarticulate in describing how to get these little guys loosened from their shells so you can shuck the scallops like this but don’t shuck them like this, even if it is a little entertaining, because, if you have checked with your vendor, these are perfectly safe to eat whole. Don’t throw all the ‘extra’ bits away. That is what makes them so darn good.

What you want to end up with are the scallops, whole, with all their extra bits on the more cup-like side of the shell (one side is flatter than the other).

I had a ‘large’ bag of scallops, this was about forty or so. That is enough for at least six adults, we had five with leftovers, as a main course. 

I used parsley, chives, fennel fronds and a little bit of sorrel. You can use whatever fresh herbs you have, just plain old parsley would be just fine.

If you don’t have a barbecue, you can cook these under your  oven broiler/grill. You may have to adjust the cooking time. When you are cooking these on the barbecue, make sure you keep the heat as high as you can, you don’t want these to boil, you want them grilled.

Barbecued Live Scallops

1 Large bag live scallops on the half shell

1 cup white wine

2 large shallots finely chopped

1/2 cup butter

2 cloves garlic minced

Fresh herbs finely chopped

Fresh ground black pepper

Put wine in saucepan over medium heat and reduce to 1/4 cup. Add shallots, garlic and butter and simmer until shallots are translucent. Remove from heat and stir in herbs and pepper.

Heat barbecue to high heat or your oven broiler. 

Spoon a teaspoon of the wine and butter mixture over each scallop.

Place scallops, in shell, on the grill as quickly and as carefully as you can, you don't want to spill the wine and butter. Close the barbecue lid and cook for about three minutes until the ‘meat’ is opaque.

Remove from barbecue and serve.

Retro Inspirations - Tell me Yours

Today's post is from a while ago. I had fully intended to cook something amazing, take photos of the process and write about it tonight. My attempt was foiled before it even started. My thumb was attacked by my, now not as loved, knife block and a 10" chef's knife that wasn't quite buried deep enough in the block's protective bristles.

***

I have memories of tea parties with egg salad or cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off. Hot tea in the winter, and more likely egg, iced tea in the summer, with cucumber, always on white bread. What ever happened to those little nibbles, besides the fact that everyone went and got all fancy? 

The little sandwiches used to pop up all over the place, well usually anywhere there was a group of women socializing anyway. They were the fodder of frolickers at garden parties and baby showers and church socials. And, maybe they still are because I just don’t have the opportunity to attend these events at the side of my grandmother anymore. So, maybe I just don’t know.

We, the daughters and I, found ourselves at a casual little tea party a little while ago at Hawthorn Cottage. And, I was so pleased to see a tray of the little beauties that Jennifer had prepared that I almost hugged her. Paper thin cucumber slices crunchy in their soft, crustless cover. And, then, the same paper thin slices, but this time, of radish with mint. Floods of garden party scenes and hideous pin-the-diaper-on-the-baby game visions flooded back.

A few weeks after our afternoon at Hawthorn Cottage, I got to go to a baby shower. Sadly, there were no hideous games to play but there was glorious sunshine and basking and laughing and chatting and eating. But, I took, as my contribution, a tray of some dainty little sandwiches. And I felt a little like I had time-warped back twenty-five years and conspicuous because of it. But then I got to thinking that it was just retro and retro is cool. Right?

I made my version of Jennifer’s radish and mint, with salty butter and mayonnaise perked up with dijon and lemon and cracked pepper. And, I made egg salad with a painstakingly finely chopped pile of dill carrots and chives and, again, a hint of mustard. I used some of Rumtopf Farm’s mesclun mix with nasturtiums to add a little bit of green and bite.

But, I am not going to tell you how to make dainty little sandwiches, I don’t need to do that. I just ask that you think about making them sometime. Maybe, to have with a cup of tea or take some to your grandmother, if you are lucky enough to still have her, and sit outside on a sunny day and talk about all those ‘old school’ parties. Or make something that nobody seems to make or serve anymore and then tell me about it.

Grilled Ratatouille

It is that time of year again. The time which some greet with excitement and as a sign of summer abundance. The time which anyone who has a garden or anyone who knows someone who has a garden or anyone who has left their car unlocked or doorstep unguarded at this time of year is all too familiar with. It is zucchini(courgette) time.

People here in Nova Scotia say it is the only time of year people lock their doors here. Guarding against the product of the glut that even one prolific plant can provide. Everyone seems to have about fourteen recipes to deal with the stuff in all its forms - long or round, forest green to speckled pale, almost blue green to bright yellow - yes, I lump summer squash in here too.

Eggplants (aubergines) are starting here as well, shiny and jewel-coloured. So, in combination with the zucchini, it kind of shouts out ratatouille. But, ratatouille? Yawn, yawn, yawn. 

I think ratatouille is great but it isn’t very exciting, is it? I have spent many a month in the south of France looking at various renditions of the stuff on every menu. None of them bad, but few of them jumping up and screaming, ‘Eat me!’ Consequently, my mission was to revitalize the ratatouille concept for, well, for my family, I guess.

The days are still hot here and, as I far as I am concerned, it is never too late for another salad days recipe. This one is great hot or warm or cold. It travels well and is easy to eat with just a fork so ticks the ‘great for a picnic’ box as well. 

It is great on its own, with a hunk of feta and some olives and fresh bread but serves as a worthy side dish to any grilled meat or fish. Stephen and the girls had some grilled chicken with theirs’ and, at least in the girls’ case, the ratatouille disappeared first. I faintly recall Stephen declaring that it ‘wasn’t bad for aubergine’. I felt like I had done my job. 

‘Ratatouille renovated?’ 

‘Check.’  

I used garlic scape pesto in this but a clove of minced garlic would be just fine. The dressing uses the remaining mixture that you brush the vegetables with before grilling. 

I contemplated tomato for this. Had they been ready, as in ripe, I may have tried grilling some with the rest of the vegetables but, they weren’t. I then considered dicing some and adding to all the vegetables after grilling but we were eating this warm the first time around and I had a vision of tomato mush gluing the whole lot together. I did add some to the cold leftovers and it was a really good cooked/fresh contrast. So, if you are going to have this cold or when you re-purpose it, I would throw in a handful of chopped fresh tomatoes. I used some halved cherry tomatoes which I rescued from Poppy, who was about two-thirds of the way through the entire pint. 

I used summer squash here but any zucchini, summer, patty pan, etc. squash would do just fine. I also used some fennel fronds, because I have some growing but these are easily omitted.

Grilled Ratatouille

1 large eggplant (aubergine) sliced lengthwise in 1cm(ish) slices

3 medium summer squash sliced in half lengthwise

6 scallions (spring onions)

1 medium red onion sliced into 1cm rounds

2 red peppers tops, bottoms and seeds removed

Marinade

1/8 cup garlic scape pesto

1/8 cup olive oil

Dressing

1 tablespoon marinade from above

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 1/2 tablespoons rice wine vinegar

1/4 teaspoon salt

Handful of chopped flat leaf parsley and fennel fronds (if you have fennel to hand)

Brush eggplant and zucchini slices with the marinade. Let sit while preparing other vegetables and heating the barbecue.

Grill over medium heat and in batches, if necessary, all of the vegetables until they are nicely marked and just cooked through. None should take more than a couple of minutes on each side. Remove from the barbecue.

Chop all of the grilled vegetables into bite-sized pieces and put in a mixing bowl.

Whisk all ingredients for the dressing together and pour over the vegetables. Toss to combine with the chopped herbs.

Serve warm or cold, with or without feta, on its own or as a side.

Breaking my Rules

My nephew turns seven on Monday. His passions are origami and Star Wars. I wanted to make him a cake but I didn’t want to make this. I don’t have the skills, space, staff or patience to make this. And, although this is pretty sweet, I was sure it wasn’t going to pass the taste test.

So, I broke one of my, until this point, strictest rules. I put inedible things on and around the cake. 113 of them to be exact. Paper cranes. And, I am glad I did. This was definitely the most fun I have had making a cake. 

Disclaimer: Because I wasn’t planning on posting this, I just have to because I loved it so much, the following are guidelines only. I didn’t make any notes.

Chocolate Cake with Vanilla Bean Buttercream and Raspberry Jam

The cake is my Go-To cake. I made a triple recipe (you will either need a very large mixer and a very large mixing bowl or make two 1-1/2 batches) and wound up with a 10-inch, an 8-inch and a 6-inch cake, all about 3 inches high. The cooking time needs to be increased a lot for the 10 and the 8 and just a little for the 6. It took about 70 minutes for the larger two and about 40 for the smaller one.

The icing ratio is 1 cup unsalted butter to 3-1/2 cups icing sugar plus 1/2 tablespoon vanilla bean paste (or the seeds of 1/2 a vanilla bean) and 1 tablespoon milk. I used 4 cups of butter and 14 cups of icing sugar but I was making a pretty big cake. An 8-inch, two layer cake would probably be fine with a 1 or 2 cup batch.

I trimmed the top of the cakes to make sure they were flat and then I sliced each of them into three layers and spread a layer of good quality raspberry jam and buttercream between each. I then crumb-coated the cake. 

Crumb coating is covering the cake with a thin layer of icing to keep the crumbs from getting into the ‘good’ layer.

I left the cakes in the fridge overnight at this point and iced them in the morning before attaching the paper cranes with royal icing.

Don't tell my daughters, but sometimes good things happen when you break the rules. And, it's fun too.

Every Now and Then, You've Got to Give it up for The Domestic Goddess

I don’t profess to be any sort of domestic goddess. I think that there is a certain level of domestic perfection that comes only from the assistance of paid help, PAs, housekeepers, nannies and/or au pairs, drivers and personal shoppers, none of which I can justify or afford. Those of us that can, are able to live in a mythical world of tidiness, beautiful food, perfectly dressed and clean children and cashmere twinsets where, even if I could, I don’t think I would fit in. I like messy kids and my boobs aren’t really twin set friendly. (Did I just say boobs on a food blog?)

Every now and then though, I find I am looking longingly at the doyenne of goddesslike domesticity, envying her bevvy of staff and wishing that, even if it was just for a few moments, I had that kind of opportunity to create perfect cakes and make men swoon and women jealous just by saying ‘butter and sugar’ through my perfectly red pout or by licking something delicious off a perfectly manicured finger.

Instead of this vision, I am usually asked by my husband or eldest child if I know that I have a banana hand print on my shirt or something in my hair or food stuck to my chin. Plus, without my make-up team and stylist, my skin isn’t so smooth and dewy and my outfit is usually more wrinkled than not and on good days, but not always, stain and spot free. So, even if I could do the voice, I would wind up looking and sounding a little more slummy mummy than yummy mummy.

But try as I might to dismiss The Domestic Goddess altogether, I can’t. She, or her team, sometimes do great food. Several cake recipes I regularly use are hers. Sure, I give them a little tweak every now and then but generally the recipes are pretty perfect and not too complex and rarely disappoint. So, it is to an old Nigella recipe that I turned when I wanted to make a cake for tea that wasn’t too heavy and tasted summery. I also had some laboriously hand-picked raspberries that I wanted to add and I remembered at the end of the recipe, which was cut out of a UK magazine at least eight years ago, that she says, in the way only Nigella could, ‘I can’t stop myself murmuring ‘raspberries alongside’ to you either.’ I decided that if they would be good alongside, they would be even better in.

Mine got a little dark around the edge, which annoyed me, but it has strengthened my determination to remember to pick up an oven thermometer and to remember to set a timer. 

I used the metric measurements given but measured it out in cups for those of you without a scale. Just use the same measurements throughout, if you start with grams, weigh all the ingredients in grams, etc.

Damp Lemon and Almond Cake with Raspberries adapted from a Nigella Lawson recipe I clipped out of a magazine a long, long time ago (serves 8)

225 grams (8 ounces or 1 cup) soft butter (I used salted, the original called for unsalted)

225 grams (8 ounces or 1 1/4 cup) granulated sugar (use caster sugar if you have it)

4 large eggs

50 grams (2 ounces or 1/4 + 1/3 of 1/4 cup (1/12??) all purpose flour

225 grams (8 ounces or 2 cups) ground almonds

1/2 teaspoon almond essence

grated zest and juice of two lemons

about 2/3 pint of raspberries (a few more or less isn’t going to hurt)

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line and butter a 8-9 inch springform cake tin.

Cream together the butter and sugar until almost white. One at a time, beat in the eggs. Between each egg, add a quarter of the flour until it is fully incorporated. Stir the ground almonds and then add the almond essence, lemon zest and lemon juice.

Pour half the batter into the cake tin and arrange half the raspberries, saving the nicest ones for the top. Pour the remaining batter on top of the raspberries and spread it with a spatula. Arrange the rest of raspberries on top and gently push them into the batter a bit, not too far. 

Put cake in the oven and bake for about an hour.  You may need to cover it with foil after about half an hour so it doesn’t burn. It is done when a tester comes out with some damp crumbs and the top is firm. remove from the oven and cool.

This cake will keep, and Nigella thinks it is better when it is a few days old. We ate it the next day and it was just fine.

* Sorry for lack of baking process photos. I don’t have enough hands sometimes.

Riding a Bicycle was Never so Tasty

Years ago, in the days before children, I used to drink cocktails at the cocktail hour. I didn’t have to worry about supper for small girls or bath time or whether I should be drinking and nursing. All I had to worry about was what to wear with my new shoes.

Sometimes they were called sundowners. Sometimes they were called aperitifs. Sometimes they were drunk in a bar or a café overlooking a busy street or a beach. Sometimes they were drunk in a tiny, crowded and way too smoky, but back in the day I didn’t notice, hole in the wall bar. Sometimes they were drunk in the cockpit or on the bow of a boat. Sometimes they were drunk in the crew mess. 

The cocktails were occasionally margaritas or daquiris or martinis. More often, it was a beer or a glass of wine. Sometimes, depending on where the cocktail was being drunk, it was a delicious mix of Campari and something else.  A negroski or an americano or just a Campari and soda or grapefruit, any of them made the cocktail hour a little more satisfactory. You can even buy pre-mixed Campari Soda in little bottles in Italy, how civilized is that?

Someone once made me La Bicyclette. I had never had one and was sold as soon as I found out what was in it. Campari, white wine, club soda and lemon. I hadn’t even tasted it but I knew I would love it and I did. Refreshing and delicious and just a little bit fruity, not too bitter, not too sweet. The sweetness is easily adjusted by wine choice, the strength by soda quantity. I think that, strictly speaking, it should probably only have a splash of soda but these days I need one drink to last a long time or I’ll be asleep before bath time.

I know that Campari is not everyone’s favourite taste. Big Daughter saw my La Bicyclette this evening and her eyes lit up. She coyly asked for a sip expecting, I think, something tasting like toxic pink freezie. She was not at all impressed and informed me, ‘it is 32 yucky.’ I know that, on her scale of yuckiness, earwigs are a 34 yucky so I am guessing she has decided against Campari for the foreseeable future. Oh well, more for me.

I chose a wine that has some sweetness but not so much that we won’t drink it on its own. Valley Roads L’Acadie Muscat is not bone dry and has a bit of tropical fruit and citrus which always taste good with Campari. I also like to think it Nova Scotiafies this little tipple. 

La Bicyclette (makes one tasty cocktail)

2 ounces* Campari

2 ounces white wine (chose a sweeter wine, if you prefer sweeter drinks)

4 ounces club soda (it should probably only have about 1 ounce, a splash)

A slice or two of lemon

Ice cubes

Mix the Campari and wine together** and pour over ice and lemon in a wine glass. Top with club soda. Drink.

*or just use 1/4 cup if you, like me, don't seem to have a shot glass.

**if you want to get all fancy, you could use a shaker but I think a spoon and glass are just fine here.

Kitchen Saviour - Garlic Scape Pesto

Sometimes you feel like you are doing everything you can just to keep the wheels on the bus. That is exactly where we have been lately. Not that I haven't been cooking. I have been. It just seems that by the time I think to take a picture whatever it is has been eaten or I have forgotten to measure exactly and write it all down. 

It all started with the return from Sint Maarten and Big Daughter's birthday party preparations which took the better part of every evening for a week. The birthday party was quickly followed by a weekend in Toronto which, while fun and exciting, didn't exactly help in our household/day-to-day organizational crisis. A steady stream of house guests and summer activities has kept me on my toes since then. 

I wouldn't change any of it, I love being busy and I love a house full of folk, but something has to give sometimes. I gave up on bathing the girls for a little while because that seems to take an age these days, but we started having people cover their noses around us, so I had to get back on top of that. I wanted to give up on taking the garbage out and sorting the recycling but that may have caused a health hazard. I tried to give up on laundry but then they came to fix our water issue. So, the rare moments to play around in the kitchen and try not to forget what I am cooking in the oven had to be put on the proverbial back burner while we just about managed to 'keep her between the mustard and the mayonnaise,' as my old friend Dana used to say. He was referring to motor vehicles, but it works for life with children too.

***

Every year, I excitedly buy garlic scapes, the curly green stems of the garlic, as soon as I start seeing them at the market and I take them home and I put them away and a week later there they are, looking out at me, asking to be given a warm supper time welcome. Don't get me wrong, I love them but I have two little eaters that aren't as keen on strong new flavours - the littlest still only has two teeth and the biggest is becoming skeptical of new flavours in her old age, although as I write she is devouring some stilton and crackers as a bedtime snack.

Then, I saw it. The answer to my five day old garlic scape dilemma. Garlic Scape Pesto. It has made the past few weeks better in many ways. I have added it to sauces and dressings, substituted it for straight garlic, spread it on stuff and made the easiest and freshest spaghetti aglio olio there ever was. All devoured by young and old alike.

I am told that this will last for up to a year in your fridge as long as its covered with olive oil. I doubt you will need to worry as it won't last that long.

Garlic Scape Pesto (makes about one cup)

200 grams garlic scapes

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

1/2 teaspoon sea salt

1 teaspoon lemon juice

Remove the tops of the garlic scapes just below the seed pod and chop the bottom parts into 1-inch or so pieces. Put these into the bowl of the food processor and pulse until chopped.

Add olive oil, salt and lemon juice and puree until smooth.

Put pesto into a clean glass jar and refrigerate. Keep the pesto covered with olive oil.

Use the pesto to toss with pasta, to add mild garlic flavour to sauces, soups, dressings, toss it with bread cubes and toast for great croutons, add some extra oil and drizzle over tomatoes or grilled vegetables. Use it almost anywhere.