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

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finally yummy brussels sprouts

For the first many years of my deprived life, I looked at the dish of cold, watery Brussels sprouts being passed around the Thanksgiving table . . . and wished I didn’t have to be polite and eat a few.

But in early October last year, it was like the media suddenly grew a crop of delicious Brussels sprouts stories and recipes. I read them all, jotting notes in my head, thinking maybe, just maybe, they didn’t have to taste like little cabbage heads that had drowned in a particularly bland sea of ice water.

When the time came for my Thanksgiving challenge (i.e., my mother in law put me in charge of making the little cabbage heads), I rose to it.

I parboiled the Brussels sprouts in salted water to make their hard hearts tender and tasty. Then I rolled the little cabbage heads in a frying pan with pieces of bacon, slices of garlic and apple cider vinegar. Their outer leaves browned happily while I decided to add some pepper and roasted pine nuts in the oven.

They stayed happy – and alive. No cold, drowned Brussels sprouts for us. Instead, we had beautiful little browned cabbage heads with barnacles of bacon, garlic and pine nuts drawing out the Brussels sprouts’ true flavour. Finally: yummy Brussels sprouts to be thankful for.

finally yummy brussels sprouts

serves 4 to 6 as a side dish

4 c. Brussels sprouts

3 thick slices of bacon, chopped

2 cloves garlic, sliced thinly

3 tbsp. apple cider vinegar

2 oz. (60 g.) pine nuts, roasted

1/4 tsp. pepper

salt

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Throw in the Brussels sprouts. Cook the Brussels sprouts until they are almost tender, but not completely cooked, about 6 to 8 minutes.

In the meantime, fry the bacon for 5 minutes in a good frying pan over medium-low heat. (If using thinly-sliced bacon, fry for 1 – 2 minutes.) If the bacon releases a lot of grease, feel free to pour some off.

Add the garlic, apple cider vinegar, parboiled Brussels sprouts and pepper to the bacon in the pan. Sprinkle a bit of salt on top. (Not too much because the bacon is already salty.)

Sauté until the bacon is done and the garlic has softened.

Serve with a generous sprinkling of roasted pine nuts on top.

mrs. doucet's apple chutney

Fall has arrived and you might be wondering two things:

1. What will I do with all the blemished, ugly apples on my tree?
2. What will I bring to parties for the next few months when I don't have time to make anything?

The answer to both questions: apple chutney.

Yup, take a few hours to whip up a batch and then sit back and relax. When it's party time, just pull a jar of apple chutney off the shelf. Stop by the store on the way to the party and buy some fancy crackers and chèvre (or cream cheese if you're averse to goat stink) and get ready to impress the crowds with a homemade appletizer.

Who came up with this brilliant idea? Not me, although I have co-opted the idea so fully that I almost think it's my own.

The brilliance comes from my friend Angela and her mother, Mrs. Doucet, in Nova Scotia. They are two of the best bakers and cooks I know, and have contributed many invaluable recipes to my repertoire. (Remember that lovely yellow split pea dahl?)

And just how did they come up with this chutney? Well, a while back, Angela was at a friend's house for dinner and tried some apple chutney there. She loved it so much that she took the rest of the jar  home to her mother. Angela explained how much she loved it, and asked if her mom could make a recipe for it.

Mrs. Doucet tasted it and created this recipe. Angela says it's exactly like the chutney she first tried. This chutney is dark and thick, with plump raisins and the surprise of fresh cardamom. In short, it is perfect dolloped over a cracker spread with a creamy cheese – all ready to adorn your party plate.

P.S. If you were at the Brigden fall fair in Ontario a few years ago, yes, this is the apple chutney that won the prize. 

mrs. doucet's apple chutney

yields 5 1/2  cups

1/4 c. lemon juice

1/4 c. cider vinegar

24 dates

1/2 c. raisins

2 large cloves garlic, minced

2 tsp. cardamom seeds, crushed

1 tsp. ginger

8 c. apples, peeled, cored and chopped

4 c. sugar

Mix lemon juice, cider vinegar, dates, raisins and garlic in a big pot with a heavy bottom. Cook over medium-low heat until dates and raisins are soft.

Add cardamom, ginger, apples and sugar. Bring to a light simmer. Turn heat down to low and cook slowly for one hour, until thick. Stir often.

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

Serve with a creamy cheese on crackers.

This post is part of Fall Fest 2010, which is a community food blogging event to write about (and eat!) seasonal produce. If you’d like to see other Fall Fest recipes for apples, try these:

To Market, To Market with San Diego Foodstuff: Revised Medieval Apple Tart
The Wright Recipes: Apple Stack Cake and Dark Caramel Apples
Eating from the Ground Up: God and Apple Pie
Simmer Till Done: Louisa May Alcott's Apple Slump
Food2: 22 Awesome Ways to Use Your Apples
Cooking Channel: Apple Dessert Recipes
Gilded Fork: Apples—Sweet Seduction
Food Network: Pick the Perfect Apple
White on Rice Couple: Apple picking, and Broiled Leeks with Apple Vinaigrette
Food Network UK: Five English apples you should know and love
Healthy Eats: 31 Days of Apple Recipes
Pinch My Salt: Favorite Apple Recipes
The Sister Project: Third-Prize Apple Pie

 

good spinach

Spinach had always been a difficult vegetable for me.

Oh, I understood it was full of vitamins, it offered Popeye superhuman strength, and it was probably something I should eat more often.

But I had just had too much bad spinach. Wilted, soggy, cold spinach with a strange odour. Ew.

Until I saw the light. The golden yellow light, that is.

Butter.

For this revelation, I have my husband to thank. He taught me that spinach holds the possibility to become delicious in its deep-green vegetable heart.

Here’s how: add butter, salt and pepper. (I know. I’m also a bit shocked I didn’t think of this before.)

Would you like more specific instructions?

good spinach

Rinse the spinach in a colander.

Pour an inch or two of water into a small pot. Bring it to a boil. Salt the water, if you like.

Add the spinach. Simmer, partially covered, for 1 to 2 minutes, until it’s deep-green and softened.

Use a slotted spoon to scoop the spinach onto a plate. Put a dollop of butter on top. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Eat before it gets cold.

This post is part of Fall Fest 2010, which is a community food blogging event to write about (and eat!) seasonal produce. If you’d like to see other Fall Fest recipes for spinach, try these:

A Way to Garden: Why I plant spinach late, and other tasty tidbits 

The Wright Recipes: Spinach Rotolo, a rolled ricotta and pasta extravaganza
Sweetnicks: Spinach Egg Breakfast Cup
Gilded Fork: Spicy Artichoke Spinach Dip, and a Dossier on Spinach
Simmer Till Done: Spanakopita Scones
Eating from the Ground Up: Spicy Indian Lentil Soup with Spinach
Healthy Eats: Mini Spinach-Mushroom Quiche
Food2: Spinach Artichoke Dip
Cooking Channel: Paneer With Spinach
FN Dish: Everyday Spinach Dishes with Giada
Food Network UK: Eggs florentine, brunch of champions

If you'd like to join the festival, leave your comment or recipe about spinach on my blog and the others' blogs. The idea is to get everyone talking about what's ripe right now and how we can eat it.