Yukon Chatter Bug

A post by Grannymar, an Irish blogger I read (because I like all things Irish), reminded me of my own scattered collection of recipes. Like her mother had, I have a clash of newspaper cut-outs, bits of pad paper with chicken-scratched recipes, and many others bearing other people’s handwriting: Mom, Teresa, Mme. Hamel, Mrs. Schulte, and so on. These signed recipes are like time-marks of my life, and each time I prepare them they remind me of the people who gave them to me, including yesterday’s feta, mint, black pepper and olive oil drizzled watermelon Mrs. Schulte showed me years ago.

Off I pranced to the post office to pick up a Christmas parcel a few years ago, and madly I tore open the box. I spotted a container of rolled oats, a packet of brown sugar, and Grandma’s carefully handwritten recipe for making oatmeal or soupane as we called it in French.  Tears flooded my cheeks as she obviously knew this was a sweet spot for me. This was, by far, one  of the most thoughtful gifts I have ever received at Christmas.

Firmly anchored in my head are childhood memories of Grandma making porridge on her woodstove. Whether it was for this reason or only because it was a treat from Grandma, that porridge was extra tasty. Of course the dark brown sugar and splash of whole milk helped.

The only problem now was finding an old woodstove to prepare it the way she did.

Similar to what my Grandma had, except the colour

At first glance, The Towne Club (next to Lizard’s Lounge after the new “wall” went up) looks like a chic, inviting little cocktail lounge. If fact, prior to it’s opening after the renovations, I recall reading in one of the ads that it was going to be a “high-end cocktail lounge”. Of course, such a statement raised many eyebrows in this little Gold Rush town.

As soon as it opened, some friends and I decided to check in on this new little spot, complete with comfy chairs and other furniture from The Country House (unfortunately, this furniture store is closing soon). It did, indeed, look very inviting. There are many choices for seating: bar stools at the bar, regular dining tables, high tables and high chairs, comfortable nooks with sofas, sofa chairs, and coffee tables. Very pleasant atmosphere, comfortable, and soft background music. And even though there’s a giant TV screen in one corner, it doesn’t feel invasive.

Being a wine drinker, I anticipated a wine list with a decent selection of wines at various prices. What I got from this high-end lounge was a choice of two very low-end wines: Jackson Triggs (hang on while I run to the bathroom to throw up) and Sawmill Creek (so-so for a house wine). After spotting the owner sitting at the bar, I thought I’d approach him to compliment him on the new place and make a suggestion about the wine list. This was the last time I went there, which was many months ago.

Yesterday, my mom had a hankering for Chinese food. Note to those outside Canada: Unless you’re in certain restaurants in Chinatown (Toronto/Vancouver), Chinese food in Canada isn’t what Chinese people would call Chinese food; it’s the chop suey, chow mein, sweet & sour whatever, and other Westernized dishes. Anyway, like many other Asian foods, there are always sesame seeds or sesame oil in something, which will send my husband into anaphylactic shock. So our challenge was to find a place that serves Chinese food along with other non-Asian choices on the menu. Remembering the menu at our fancy-pants establishment, we decided to go there. Oh yeah, I guess I forgot to tell you that high-end cocktail lounges in Whitehorse have Chinese food on their menu.

We sat at a regular table and the waitress quickly came over to ask for our drinks. I was pleased to see that the wine list had been expanded to a few more wines. We all had menus in front of us, ordered our drinks, and then the waitress asked if we wanted to start a tab.

“We’re ordering food, so yes.”

“Then I’ll have to ask one of you for a credit card,” she smiled.

Huh? Wait…did I hear this right? What, otherwise we’d have to pay for the meal before eating?

“But we’re having dinner! Giving a credit card for a tab is common in bars, not when people are having dinner,” I answered incredulously.

“That’s just regular procedure,” she tried to reassure us.

So, after giving her the “I can’t believe I’m hearing this” look, I handed her my credit card.

Eventually she brought us our drinks and we ordered our food. My wine tasted like it had gone bad, so she graciously brought me a different one and didn’t charge me for the first. For Westernized Chinese food, it wasn’t bad and the portions were huge (we had enough for lunch the next day). My husband ordered fish and chips (again, can’t have sandwiches or burgers and risk sesame). His plate looked like it came from a greasy-spoon diner with a scattering of what looked like McCain’s frozen crinkle cut fries and two small pieces of fish.

And the worse part? I LOVE rock ‘n roll, especially classic rock…but not while I’m having dinner! Pink Floyd, Rush, and AC/DC while having a meal at a high-end cocktail lounge?

In the end, the food was okay, and it’s what I expected. I just find it ironic that the place is so chi chi looking, but the treatment of customers and the atmosphere turns out to be like that of a local bar. There’s sort of a disconnect, a dissonance, certainly not a je ne sais quoi. The owner needs to make up his mind as to what he wants the place to be, and then advertise it as such.

My head is still spinning.

A new little cake store has opened with a bang this week. After hearing that the owner would be serving free samples and beverages at her grand opening, I tried to contain my drool as I walked into Urban Cake on Second Ave. (where the old Thredz shop used to be). Her decorations on cakes and cupcakes are unbelievable, and the combination of flavours is unusual and would put anyone in a sugar-induced trance.

Molasses and Caramel Cupcake

The owner had a table set up at the Fireweed Market during the summer to sell her sweets, and what an impression these left on me. It was “layered flavouring”: I bit into some pear/chocolate/lime cake and after getting over one flavour, my taste buds were coated with another, then another. I have honestly never experienced anything like this before.

In addition to her sweets, she makes iced-tea (from scratch) and slightly carbonated fruity beverages. She sews flowery summer dresses for little girls, has re-usable cup warmers (you know those little cardboard thingies you put around your coffee cup to prevent you from burning your hands?).

Check it out! She also does custom cakes for any occasion.

Oh, and a little-advertised fact is that her cakes (I don’t know if all of them) are gluten-free.

Traditions are especially important during the holiday season in my French-Canadian family, but not having relatives close by or children of my own, I needed to find a way to connect with my heritage this season. So, I decided to make tourtières.

People, including French-Canadians, have different ideas of what a tourtière is. Is it the kind that looks like a pie filled with ground meat? Or does it have potatoes, carrots, and meat covered with a thick crust?

The answer to those questions depends on where you’re from. If you’re of the  Saguenay-Lac-Saint-Jean region in Québec, the former is a pâté à viande and the latter a tourtière. Everywhere else in French Canada, as far as I know, a tourtière is a meatpie, with nothing but ground meat (usually beef, pork and/or veal), onions, salt and pepper, and maybe a couple of herbs. These are the meatpies I made yesterday. Here in the North, however, many substitute the beef for caribou or moose meat. I’m anxiously waiting for a friend of mine to drop off some moose meat.

I’ve only made tourtières a couple of times before, and each time I had the help of a seasoned cook. This time I was on my own. Of course I had to make the necessary phone calls to my mother and grandma to make sure I had things right.

Judging by fluffiness and flakiness of the small pastries* made with the leftover dough, I succeeded with my pie crusts; actually, I think it’s the best crust I’ve made yet. The meat mixture was also quite tasty, so I’m guessing that my tourtières will turn out to be good, but only at dinnertime tonight will I know for sure.

*When I’m done with pie crust pastry, I roll out the leftover dough, brush on some butter, and spread brown sugar, (you can add cinnamon and nuts if you like.) then roll it up, cut it up, and bake it. Nothing is wasted!

For a scrumptilicious fantasmagorical warm beet salad, get fresh ingredients from your local market (I can’t say enough about the Fireweed Community Market), and toss ‘em all together. You never know what you’ll end up with. In my case, I ended up with this wonderful spur of the moment recipe.

1. Boil red and white beets
2. Boil (or steam) carrots
3. Meanwhile, melt butter in pan.
4. Sauté:
   • green onions
   • dill weed
   • sliced mushrooms
   • sliced collard greens
   • sliced beet greens
5. Add to mix:
   • sunflower seeds
   • dried cranberries
   • 2 tsp. lemon juice mixed with zest
6. When carrots and beets are cooked, slice and add to salad mix
7. Toss salad with salt and pepper to taste

I had never tried collard greens before, and I didn’t know you could eat beet greens. Apparently turnip greens are also edible. Who knew!

Oh, and I purchased a beautiful original painting ink work from Stace Pshyk.

After reading Croque-Camille’s post about Chicken Pot Pie, the light went on. Literally. There’s nothing more frustrating than reading a new recipe and encountering all kinds of food-related terminology that baffles you. It’s a sure way for the cookbook to collect dust on my shelf. At least CC explains them: CLEARLY.

A while back, I was looking at a Marchand de vin sauce and was baffled by the term mirepoix. I didn’t know what it meant at the time, but later found out that it’s the same thing my grandma, my mom, and I always did to prepare a stock, soup, or stew. It’s your basic aromatics of celery, onion, & carrot used for a base, except that’s what WE always called it: la base. The same goes with a lot of specialized food terms used by chefs. Many of the terms, I’ve realized, refer to methods that my grandma always used in the kitchen and with which I am familiar.

There are many other food-related terms, that over time I learned was terminology used by professional chefs or wanna-bes. But I also find it amusing how, when people want to sound sophisticated, they really, really like French words. And then, even I have a hard time pronouncing French terms the English way (like hors d’oeuvres), but that’s for another post.

Now I think I’ll go and prepare brochettes au saumon as an hors d’oeuvres before serving Duck à l’orange for dinner. I thinkCrème brûlée would be perfect for dessert.

Boy, do I need a good pastis as an apéritif before I get started.

For the last week, I’ve been trying to find creative ways to get rid of foodstuff before it’s too late. “Never buy groceries on an empty stomach, my mother always warned me. I usually try to heed her advice, but for my last trip to the store, I must of had a brain fart, so I ended up with almost every fruit and vegetable under the sun.

Trying to get rid of way too many kiwifruit resulted in a tasty sauce that’s delicious over vanilla ice cream. Something has to balance out all those fruits and vegetables! Here’s what I did:

• peel the kiwifruit – use a teaspoon and scoop the fruit out (I had about 10)
• put in a food processor
• add 1 cup white sugar
• add 2 teaspoons of lemon or lime juice mixed with zest (adds a nice tang to the syrup/sauce)
• simmer for about an hour

I poured the sauce into an empty bottle and keep it in the refrigerator. Deeee-lish!