naomi's granola

  

It is strange that I have to travel more than halfway across the country from sleepy Vancouver Island to the big city of Toronto to eat breakfast outside, but it’s true.

Our friends Naomi and Ian have the kind of house that made me fall in love with Toronto: full of art and a warm welcome and surrounded by big old city trees.

The first couple mornings of our visit, my husband and I stumble up to the kitchen, dazed by the time change and looking for an easy breakfast. Without fail, I pull open the cupboard and see the familiar square Tupperware container: granola. I smile, spoon some into a bowl and put the kettle on for tea.

And then, right there from the kitchen at the back of the house, I open the door onto a patio that gradually drops down into the park behind them. Naomi is a gardener and for most of the year, there are leafy green things and birdfeeders to watch while we sit at the little table and linger over our breakfast. This is vacation.

Finally, I realized that while I can’t bring their patio back to our tiny apartment, I can make the granola. Naomi gave me the recipe, and she says she got it from someone else. Now, I’d like to pass it along to you.

It’s originally called, “mixed fruit granola” and the two fruit involved are dried cherry and cranberry. But can two fruit truly make something “mixed”? Anyway, I just call it, “Naomi’s granola” and we’re happy.

It’s delicious. Eat it outside when you can. When eating it inside, dream about the summer to come.

A note for the gluten-free among us: This recipe will only work for you if you can tolerate oats. Make sure you find oats that were grown in an uncontaminated field and processed in an uncontaminated factory. My favourite oats come from Cream Hill Estates. Also, make sure to use rice bran, not wheat bran.

naomi’s granola

3 c. oats

3/4 c. bran (wheat or rice)

1/2 c. almonds, whole or chopped roughly

1 tsp. cinnamon

1/8 tsp. nutmeg

1/4 tsp. salt

1/2 c. honey

1 tsp. almond extract­­­

2 tbsp. oil, optional*

1/2 c. dried cherries

1/2 c. dried cranberries

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease a baking sheet or line it with parchment paper.

Mix oats, bran, almonds, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt. Set aside.

In another bowl, mix honey, almond extract and oil. Pour over the oat mixture and toss. Spread on sheet.

Bake, stirring every 10 minutes or so until lightly roasted, about 45 to 55 minutes. Stir in fruit. If you’d like the granola to be a bit more clumpy, drizzle a bit more honey over and stir. Cool completely.

* Use a light oil, such as canola, vegetable or grape seed. Do not use olive oil; it will be too strong.

tipsy rum balls

I’m not sure when I first tasted a rum ball, but I know I wasn’t of legal drinking age.

I grew up in a town full of German bakeries, so rum balls – like marzipan and rye bread – were inevitable.  My favourites were always the soft ones rolled in chocolate sprinkles, so saturated with rum they almost fell apart. (I believe rum balls that only have a faint whiff of rum should be called something else.)

I was also fed brandy beans at a very young age. I assume all that early exposure to liqueur was good for my development. In any case, it has given me a mature palate to appreciate alcohol and dark chocolate.

Now, sadly, I am not surrounded by German bakeries, and this year I have been dreaming of rum balls. I knew I wanted a soft, dark chocolate rum ball but I also knew my rum ball needed something else, something that would give it a secret background of flavour. After extensive research, I found the mystery ingredients: hazelnuts and walnuts. Germans love these nuts because they meld so well with dark chocolate that they almost become a whole new species of choconut.  

I also thought long and hard about the chocolate sprinkles I would roll the rum balls in. After all that work on the rum ball interior, I couldn’t take a chance on a waxy exterior. In the end, I made a special trip to the Dutch store to buy chocolate sprinkles there. I was not let down – these are indeed chocolate-y enough to sprinkle on toast. (Those crazy Dutch people!)

These rum balls are just what I remember: deep and dark and full of rum. In fact, they are so rummy that I made them very small – then you can also have some brandy beans and not be over the legal limit.

Merry Christmas!

A note for the gluten-free among us: These work perfectly with gluten-free chocolate cookies. I like this brand. 

tipsy rum balls

rolls 48

1 c. crushed chocolate cookies (about 1 1/2 c. before crushing)

1/4 to 1/3 c. rum, to taste plus more to dip

generous 1/2 c. hazelnuts

generous 1/2 c. walnuts

1 tbsp. cocoa powder

1 tbsp. sugar

sea salt, to taste

3 oz. semisweet chocolate

lots of chocolate sprinkles

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

Crush cookies in a sturdy plastic bag or a food processor. Pour into a bowl and mix in the rum. Set aside.

Roast the hazelnuts and walnuts in the oven for 3 – 5 minutes. Keep an eye on them – don’t let them burn! Pulse nuts in food processor with cocoa, sugar and a couple sprinkles of sea salt until fine, but not a paste. Mix nuts into rummy cookie crumbs.

Melt chocolate in a double boiler, or in a metal bowl suspended over boiling water. Stir well into nutty cookie mixture.

Pour 1 – 2 tablespoons rum in a tiny prep bowl. Pour chocolate sprinkles in a cereal bowl. Use a teaspoon to grab dough and roll with hands, sometimes using fingers to keep it together. Dip the ball into the rum, then roll in sprinkles. Repeat until you’re done. Store in the fridge.

butter lettuce for a break

It’s Christmas party season.

Holiday brunches.

Festive buffets.

Work party dinners.

A lot of good – and heavy – food.

Sometimes, I want something a tad lighter. That’s when I think of how my German Oma made salad.

Take a butter lettuce – or any green lettuce, really – and squeeze out some drops of fresh lemon juice. Sound exciting? Well, of course it’s not exciting yet.

Now for the fun part: carefully sprinkle just a bit of sugar over your salad. (Pretend it’s snow falling if you live on the West Coast and only ever see rain falling right now.) Eat.

This is not rocket science, I recognize. But it is much, much more than the sum of its parts. These three magic ingredients make a light and delicious salad that will help your stomach make room for the next Christmas treat. Das schmeckt gut!

butter lettuce salad with lemon and sugar

butter lettuce (also called Boston Bibb)

lemon, cut into sections

white sugar

Rinse and dry lettuce. Tear into bite-sized pieces. Put on plate.

Squeeze a lemon section over a serving of salad. Sprinkle sugar on top.

Eat!

spicy cajun almonds

You know when you go to a party and you see a little dish of interesting-looking nuts?

And you will yourself not to be disappointed, because so often party nuts are a disappointment? Because so often they’re too salty or too greasy or too synthetic tasting?

But you keep trying the party nuts because you remember that once you ate the perfect party nut and it was crunchy and salty and slightly sweet and altogether the best thing you ate that night?

These are those nuts. The nuts you have been longing for: a hint of sweet and salty, a kick of pepper, and a resounding crunch.

They come from my old colleague Judy in Ottawa. Judy gave me a little bag of these nuts as a Christmas present and I immediately begged her for the recipe. She obliged, and says they are the best spiced nuts she’s ever made. Judy says she found the recipe in the Ottawa Citizen about 20 years ago.

The recipe is simple and you can see how very happy the almonds are to be wearing such a lovely, tasty coating. Thank you, mystery Ottawa Citizen recipe writer!

spicy cajun almonds

2 tbsp. butter

1/4 c. corn syrup

2 tbsp. water

1 tsp. salt

3/4 tsp. cayenne pepper

2 tsp. paprika

1/2 tsp. garlic powder

1 tsp. white pepper

1 tsp. Tabasco sauce, or less

1 lb. (454 g.) almonds, skins on

Preheat oven to 250 degrees Fahrenheit. Prepare a cookie sheet with parchment paper.

Combine all ingredients except almonds in a medium saucepan. Heat to boiling, stirring occasionally.

Turn off heat. Add almonds and stir to coat well. Spread over prepared pan.

Bake for 1 hour, stirring every 15 minutes.

Remove from oven and cool baking sheet. Store in an airtight container.

walnut slugs

I have always had a thing about slugs.

Slugs lived in the woods around my grandparents’ house and I always thought they were absolutely gross. I could handle the daddy longlegs spiders that kept finding corners to colonize. I could handle the smaller spiders that hung around just because they liked the West Coast. But slugs, with their soft antennae and slimy trails, slugs were the one bad thing about Vancouver Island for me.

And then, one night when I was about eight, I dropped my flashlight outside. I knelt down and felt around in the dark for it.

What my fingers found was not the hard, reassuring plastic of my flashlight. It was something soft and squishy and slimy and – it definitely wasn’t my flashlight. Gross. Gross. Gross. I couldn’t wash my hands enough.

Even now, as a semi-fearless adult, seeing a slug makes my face pucker.

That’s why I love these slug cookies. They are everything a real slug is not – pretty, tasty, crisp and definitely, definitely not slimy. In short, they redeem the word slug for me.

I have my dad’s friend Betty to thank for this new definition. Betty shared this old family recipe for slugs with me. She says the slugs had a more appealing name in her mum’s old cookbook, something like vanilla walnut ovals. But her family always made them moon-shaped and called them slugs. Betty grew up in rainy Prince Rupert, and I can imagine they saw enough real slugs to act as models.

The recipe is exactly what a good heritage recipe should be: simple ingredients and a happy, pliable dough that’s easy to shape. I was lucky enough to get my hands on some local walnuts, so I spent a lovely Saturday morning listening to Christmas carols (don’t tell me it’s too early!), cracking walnuts and shaping slugs.

Slugs. My face doesn’t pucker when I see these beauties.

A note about flours:  I have adapted this recipe for the gluten-free people. If you’re not gluten-free, Betty says she has also successfully used whole-wheat flour, instead of regular wheat flour.

walnut slugs

bakes about 40 slugs

1 c. butter

1/2 c. icing or confectioner’s sugar

2 tbsp. vanilla

2 c. wheat flour

            Or gluten-free flours:

            1 c. superfine brown rice flour

            1/2 c. corn starch

            1/4 c. tapioca starch

            1/4 c. potato starch

            1 tsp. xanthan or guar gum

1/4 tsp. salt

1 c. walnuts (or pecans), very finely chopped

granulated sugar for rolling

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit. Get an insulated cookie sheet out, or put a regular cookie sheet on top of another cookie sheet to make your own.

Cream butter, icing sugar and vanilla together.

In another bowl, stir flour(s) and salt together. Stir in nuts. Add this mixture to the creamed mixture to form one dough.

Roll dough into one-inch balls; then form short logs with slightly pointed ends. (Not too pointed, or they’ll burn!) Shape into a gentle curve. Place on an ungreased cookie sheet. If you are using gluten-free flours, chill in the fridge for 10 minutes.

Bake for about 20 minutes. The tips should just start to turn a light golden brown.

Remove from cookie sheet and quickly roll in granulated sugar. Cool on a rack.

butter tarts

This recipe is more than half a century old.

I wrote it out on a recipe card, copying it from my great aunt Marjorie’s recipe card. On her card (and now mine), the back says, “Original recipe from Elva Doyle in South Arm Cookbook, 1950?”

Elva’s recipe is simple and quick. The only patience comes in rolling out that pie pastry.

But these butter tarts are worth it.

They are full of hidden gems: currants, raisins, pecans . . . even figs and dates. They hide in a gooey, buttery filling that is the perfect foil to their flaky pie pastry crust.

Butter tarts are meant to be pantry food. Bake a batch, put them in a tin, and let them ripen. After a couple days, the character of the brown sugar starts to shine and their velvety centre tastes richer and darker than ever.

And did you know that butter tarts are enjoying a resurgence as a uniquely Canadian food? I say, anything I can bake and eat to bump doughnuts and poutine down the list, and I’ll be a proud Canuck.

  

 

A note about the filling:

Yes, you can choose whatever you like. For this batch, I used 3/4 c. raisins, 1/3 c. currants and 1/4 c. pecans.

A note for the gluten-free:

Gluten-free pastry crust tastes good, but is more difficult to work with. I’d recommend making small tarts with a special tart shaper device. I have a wooden tart shaper that I cover in GF flour and then use to push a ball of dough into each tart cup. This is much easier than rolling it out and transferring fragile circles of dough into the tart cups.

butter tarts

bakes 48 small tarts, about 12 – 14 big tarts

2 eggs

2 c. brown sugar

2 tbsp. vinegar

1 tsp. vanilla

1/4 tsp. salt

1/2 c. butter, melted

1 1/3 c. currants, raisins, dates, figs or nuts, chopped

regular or gluten-free pie pastry (enough to make a double-crust pie)

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit.

Make pastry and chill in the fridge.

In another bowl, beat eggs just until the whites and yolks are blended well.

Beat in sugar. Stir in vinegar, vanilla and salt and mix well.

Stir in melted butter and fruit and nuts. Set aside.

Pull the chilled pastry out and roll out circles or make small balls you can smoosh with a tart shaper. Put them in muffin or mini-muffin tins.

Fill with butter tart filling, leaving about 1/4 to 1/8 inch from the pastry top for it to grow.

Bake regular tarts at 425 degrees Fahrenheit for 10 minutes. Then turn the oven down to 350 and bake for 20 – 25 minutes, until the filling is firm.

For mini tarts, bake at 425 degrees Fahrenheit for 5 minutes. Then turn the oven down to 350 and bake for 7 – 9 minutes, until the filling is firm.

Let cool before removing from pans.

west african peanut soup via winnipeg

One crazy winter, I decided to visit friends in Winnipeg in February.

I was living on the West Coast and missing snow, so I thought February would be a perfect time to go to Winterpeg.

I packed my boots and my warmest socks and bravely flew away from the cherry blossoms.

I landed in winter. In fact, it was so wintery that my friend had plugged her car in while it sat for 10 minutes in the airport parking lot.

Perfect, I thought. That was when I could still feel my toes.

Little did I know I was in for a weekend of the coldest weather Winnipeg had that winter. A cold spell settled down over the city, and I was soon seeing billboards advertising the –44 weather. That’s –44 without the wind chill.

I have many cold memories of that weekend. One of my warmest memories – besides seeing my good friends – was a bowl of soup.

I was happily wandering around McNally Robinson, picking up books and thinking that I could stay in that warm haven forever, when I realized it was lunchtime.

The bookstore had a little café in the corner, and I took a chance on the West African peanut soup. It was exactly what I didn’t know I wanted: rich and smooth and earthy, with a spicy kick.

After the first bite, I began plotting how I could get the recipe. When I put my spoon down, I gathered up my bowl and my courage and went back to the counter.

I praised the soup and meekly asked if they could tell me what was in it. The friendly cashier said they might have the recipe and ducked into the back. He came back with the recipe printed out – the recipe I now have encased in a plastic page protector in my recipe binder.

Turns out that besides peanuts, the soup is full of carrots and sweet potatoes that make it thick and light at the same time.

I still love it. I’ve made a couple changes to the original recipe, primarily so that it doesn’t make enough to feed a small army (or bookstore). But it is still just the right bowl of soup to eat on a cold winter day – even if you live on the coast and that means pouring rain.

west african peanut soup

still a big pot of soup – probably enough to serve 8 - 10

2 tbsp. olive oil

1 big onion, roughly chopped

1 tbsp. fresh ginger, grated

1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper

4 big carrots, chopped

2 lbs sweet potatoes (3 or 4), diced

28 oz. crushed tomatoes

1/2 c. peanut butter

8 c. vegetable stock

1/2 – 1 tsp. salt

pepper

honey

Heat heavy-bottomed pot over medium-low heat. Pour in oil and sauté onion until translucent, about 5 – 10 minutes.

Add ginger and sauté 3 more minutes, stirring often.

Add cayenne pepper, carrots, sweet potatoes, tomatoes, peanut butter, vegetable stock and 1/2 tsp. of salt. Bring to a boil; then simmer until the vegetables are well cooked, about 20 minutes. Stir often.

Remove from heat and purée. Taste and decide if you’d like to add that other 1/2 tsp. of salt. Grind pepper over. Drop a dollop of honey on, and stir in.

This post is part of Fall Fest 2010, which is a community food blogging event to write about (and eat!) seasonal produce. For more recipes inspired by root vegetables, try these:

The Wright Recipes: Apple, Potato and Celery Root Mash

San Diego Foodstuff: Roasted Carrot and Fennel Soup with Miso

Gilded Fork: Hidden Jewels of Harvest
Cooking Channel: Roasted Beet Salad
Food Network UK: Return to Your Roots
Food2: Easy Roasted Root Veggies
Food Network: Root Veggie Sides to Try
Healthy Eats: In-Season Root Veggies
Pinch My Salt: Rutabaga Puff
The Sister Project: Sweet and Savory Soup Too Good to Hide

pear ginger jam

One day a few years ago, I was eating breakfast with my now infamous friend Angela in Halifax. (Best known around here for her apple chutney and yellow split pea dahl.)

We were having toast, and she had a jar of her mom’s pear ginger jam. I buttered my toast, spread a liberal dollop of jam over it, and bit in.

It was pure toast perfection: tart ginger with sweet and soft autumn pears, mingling with melting butter.

I knew I could happily eat this for breakfast for the rest of my days.

Her mother, Mrs. Doucet, shared the recipe with me and now I can have toast perfection any morning I like over here on the other side of the country.

I’ve also discovered that pear ginger jam is a perfect accompaniment for a sharp cheese. In this case, a blue cheddar that my mom brought up from the Okanagan. Dinner was cooking – and taking way too long – but we were happy to nibble on crackers, cheese and jam, and sip our Okanagan wine while we waited. I warn you, though, you might just want to eat this for your whole dinner.

Breakfast or dinner, pear ginger jam will see you through.

pear ginger jam

yields 5 – 6 cups

10 c. pears, peeled, cored and sliced

6 c. sugar

1/2 package (about .86 oz. or 25 g.) Certo pectin crystals

2 lemons, rind grated and juiced

2 tbsp. grated fresh ginger root

Mix pectin into 1/2 c. of the sugar. Place in a canning kettle with pears, lemon juice and lemon rind. Let sit for 2 to 3 hours. (You are not heating it up at this point, just letting it sit on the counter.)

Add ginger and rest of sugar and bring to a boil. Leave uncovered and stir frequently until it’s thick and the pears are clear (about 1 hour).

Ladle into sterilized jars, seal and can for 10 minutes in boiling water.

Serve with toast and butter for breakfast, or with crackers and sharp cheese before dinner.

This post is part of Fall Fest 2010, which is a community food blogging event to write about (and eat!) seasonal produce. For more pear ideas, check out:

Pinch My Salt: Sour Cream Pear Cake
Eating From the Ground Up: Pear and Cheese
San Diego Foodstuff: Pear, Pecan, Parmesan Scones
The Sister Project: A Gingery Pear Crisp
Gilded Fork: Harvest Risotto with Caramelized Pears
White on Rice Couple: Making Pear Galette
A Way to Garden: Of Pears and Cookbooks, a Delicious Giveaway
Cooking Channel: What to Pair With Pears
Food2: 5 Ways to Warm Up to Pears
Healthy Eats: Vanilla Poached Pears, With Variations
Food Network: Baking Up Pear Desserts