Day 39: Make a Lemon Tart.

Posted on April 8, 2012 by LaLa

A few weeks ago, I made a trip to Costco with my brother.  Since I don’t have my own membership, these excursions tend to be a bit of a rarity, and usually turn into a case of ‘unleash the hounds!‘, with the two things I went in for magically morphing into twenty.  Since then, every time I have entered my kitchen, I’ve been faced with this ginormous bag of lemons, wondering what the heck I’m going to do with them, even though at the time it just seemed so obvious that I needed them – urgently!

Tarte au citron deconstructed.

So when some friends called to organize a bit of a pot luck Easter dinner, making a tarte au citron from scratch for dessert seemed like the obvious choice.  This is a French dessert full of lemony goodness that I simply adore.  It’s basically just lemon pie, but it sounds so much more exotic and decadent when pronounced en français.  Now, I used to bake quite a lot, particularly as a teenager, so I sort of know my way around baked goods; however, when it comes to pie, besides pumpkin for some reason, it’s like my personal kryptonite.  But of course, I didn’t remember that at the time.  All I could think was, a tarte’s gotta be good for at least half a dozen lemons, right?  Excellent!

Dough boobies. It's what you were thinking...

So first thing this morning, I made the dough for the crust and got it into the fridge to chill for a few hours before heading to yoga.  This took all of half an hour, and went reasonably well.  So far, so good.

No cheese in this cloth. I want a refund.

Pie crust cooked to LaLa perfection-ish.

Later on, I miraculously rolled out the dough into a circular shape rather than the usual ink blot, and got it ready for the oven.  The recipe suggested filling it first with dried beans.  It seemed a bit strange to me to just pour them loosely into the pie shell, so I poured them into cheesecloth, thinking that would make it substantially easier to get them out.

When I pulled the crust out later to take remove the beans, I noticed that it’s tricky to get them out of untied cheesecloth, and that some of it had stuck to the shell.  Not a big deal, I dumped the beans onto a cookie sheet and I picked out the cloth bits.  Fine.  Pie crust went back in for another few minutes.  The other thing I realized is that the crust on top of the dish is too thin and so it had already gone quite brown.  Whatever, it’s crust – it’s supposed to be, well, crusty.  I can live with that.  End result seemed fine.  Moving on.

Next step involved prepping the lovely lemony bits.  I needed to get 2/3 of a cup of lemon juice, so I started juicing them by hand.  About 3 lemons in, it occurred to me that the recipe also called for lemon zest, and it is significantly easier to zest a lemon than it is an empty flaccid lemon skin.  Crappity crap.  So I started zesting, and only barely removed the slightest layer of skin from each thumb in the process.  Not too shabby, really.

Finally, it was time for the filling.  The recipe called for a double boiler – not once, but twice.  Doh!  Thanks to Jamie Oliver, we don’t have one of those, so I improvised.  Incredibly, the lemony liquid gold seemed to survive these less than favourable conditions.  I poured it all into the shell, and presto – it almost sort of looked like a real tarte au citron.  Cool!

Just call me a double boiler.

 

Except, of course, that the crust was way too high and the pan too wide, but whatever…  Details.  I was feeling pretty good.  Into the oven it went, and I started to tidy up.

A few minutes later, I could smell something baking, so I thought, great, I must be on the right track.  A few minutes after that, I actually looked at the pie in the oven, and that was when I realized it was already very dark brown on top, and bubbling, with at least 10 minutes of minimum cooking time to go.  Feck!!  The oven was too hot.  Stupid pie.  In any event, I managed to keep it from setting off the smoke detector, while still ensuring that the inside somehow got cooked.  The result looked more or less presentable, so I took it, along with plenty of wine and a teensy backup death by chocolate tart for the host, to ensure at least one of us would end up with a decent dessert tonight.

  

En route, I was having a flashback to the lemon meringue pie I had made as a teenager that turned out to be lemon soup beneath the fluffy meringue spongy goodness.  Bless my family, because they still ate it, by the spoonful… in between fits of giggles, of course.

Thankfully, today’s version somehow managed to gel and ended up tasting like a pretty smart tarte after all, so crisis averted.  I also learned that the top brown layer was like a very thin film, that could have easily been removed just before serving.  But the wine told me that was a ridiculous waste of time, and I had to concur, just like making pie from scratch.  Bon appetit!

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Day 38: Massive Pillow Fight.

Posted on April 7, 2012 by LaLa

It’s so good to be back in the city… I had almost forgotten just how crazy it can be.   It really doesn’t take much digging to find unusual events happening in this town.  Tonight, there was a massive gathering of my fellow nutbars in Dundas Square (Toronto’s version of Times Square) starting at 8 pm, for, what else, a pillow fight – but not just any pillow fight – this one was the bunny edition, in support of International Pillow Fight Day.  Hoppy Easter!

Somewhere a playmate is getting chilly...

To prepare for it, I had wisely bought the recommended bunny ears as part of a set, complete with a bow tie and tail for all of $2 at Dollarama.  Although the package had a picture of a young child on it, and it was next to baskets for collecting eggs, the headband managed to neatly span my gigantic cranium, and the other two pieces were on stretchy elastic bands that attached with velcro.  Perfect.

Being the big spender that I am, I also got LeLa a set, which she seemed delighted with, as she donned the bunny ears at the pub about an hour before the main event, and saw no reason to take them off.  She then offered one of the waiters her bow tie, which he happily festooned around his head a la Hello Kitty.  We were close to the Village, so I suppose I shouldn’t have been too surprised…

After downing our pints of liquid courage, we made it to the square on time, got a good grip on our pillow cases, and, well, started swinging.  In a word?  Awesome!  We were giggling away, hurling our pillows at friendly strangers, and getting our bunny ears periodically knocked clean off our heads.  Good times!  After about 20 minutes, we had had enough – it’s surprisingly exhausting to keep whirling like that.  So we crossed the street for a celebratory pint on the patio at Jack Astor’s, where we could continue to oversee the action from a fantastic vantage point.

There were a plethora of cameras and a local film crew or two, so the spectacle even made it on the local news and jumbotron overlooking the square.  Before I threw in the towel, I offered my pillow to a young lad whose face lit up like a Christmas tree, and whose father then deftly navigated him and his sister into the melee.  He was indeed a Happy Boy.  The Pillow Fight – Bunny Edition continued for about an hour and a half.  There are definitely some swingers out there with serious stamina!  Hmm, is it just me, or does that sound dirty?  Ah well.

    

You can see more pics from the event here.  Needless to say, I don’t think I’ll be trying out for the Pillow Fight League any time soon.  The PFL, by the way, does exist, and gives new meaning to fighting like a girl.  If you’ve never seen it live, then you really haven’t lived.  And with that, I bid you a fabulous long weekend.  Remember – there are precious few occasions where chocolate and candy for breakfast are perfectly acceptable.  This is one of those times, so enjoy!

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Day 37: Mail a Card to PostSecret.

Posted on April 6, 2012 by LaLa

My guy friends have, over the years, pointed me towards more interesting websites than my female friends.  I think it has something to do with the types of topics we discuss when we get together.

With the girls, we tend to chat about things that are more personal in nature, kind of like an ice cream sundae (because it always comes back to food with me).  The basic scoops are whatever’s going on in our relationships, with our work, family and close friends; then the syrup and whipped cream toppings can touch on things like our favourite shows, fitness routines, and nutrition; finally, the sprinkling of nuts and the proverbial cherry on top can cover the occasional juicy celebrity gossip or really any other entertainment news.  We often submerge our spoons to purposefully mix multiple layers, and relish in the resulting combinations.

Guys, on the other hand, tend to discuss the impersonal stuff, which is more like a pizza, and definitely not deep dish.   The crust, cheese and sauce fundamentals usually include current events, sports and gadgets of all kinds; the additional toppings can involve anything from video games, music and movies, to adventure travel, something they read recently or saw on-line.  And farts, of course.  In fact, anything at all loosely related to bathroom humour never gets old, no matter what age the guy.  Each of these topics is tackled one slice at a time until fully exhausted before moving on.

Two websites in particular that I doubt I would have come across if it weren’t for the men in my life are FailBlog.org, and PostSecret.com.  Both of them are periodically interesting to me for different reasons.

Failblog is always better when you’re feeling completely brain dead, or had a few drinks, and just want something mindless to peruse, often at the expense of someone else, or to simply see something inane.  The site is a veritable breeding ground for potential Darwin award winners and cheap laughs to share on Facebook.  Click on the image at left to see an example of what I mean.

Postsecret, on the other hand, is attractive when you are feeling a little freaked out, and want to see who else is more psychologically disturbed than yourself.  The concept, in case you are new to it, is that people write a very personal secret that they’ve never told anyone before onto a frequently homemade postcard and mail it into the organization anonymously.  From the countless cards received, the more creative and insightful, or just plain wacky, get published on-line.

They even have a Facebook page and Twitter site where these works of art or emailed secrets are disclosed.  My view is that it is quite therapeutic for the senders to share these dark truths about themselves, as a way of purging it from their systems.  Just recently, I saw a post on Twitter where someone recognized their own secret being confessed by somebody else, and the person was genuinely relieved to know that they were not alone.  Postsecret actively supports suicide prevention efforts, and takes their show on the road mostly around the US where the founder reads postcards on stage, and where people are encouraged to reveal their own secret on a microphone in front of a crowd.  It’s powerful stuff.

So, today’s new thing for me was to write a postcard and mail it to PostSecret.  It was a bit of a daunting task not only from the perspective of my infamously short-term memory, but also that it meant dredging up something personal that I’ve no doubt repressed for a very good reason.

It’s funny how this kind of an exercise can heighten your level of neuroticism.  I actually went out of my way to walk to a postbox outside of my immediate neighbourhood, just in case they could somehow trace it back to where it was mailed, and in case the post office workers talk amongst themselves and it somehow gets back to my local postman…  Awkward!  But the weather has been unseasonably wonderful, and the evening was still warm, so I took advantage of the walk to pick up an individual slice of pizza and discuss the latest news with the guys behind the counter.

PS.  Here’s a completely truthful secret for you:  I hope that my secret does not get posted.  Thankfully, I’d say the odds are in my favour.

And now for some other random PostSecrets that caught my attention – enjoy:

        

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Day 36: Mushroom Madness.

Posted on April 5, 2012 by LaLa

Mmmm... mushrooms!

Bow down before the king of oyster mushrooms.

Mmmm… mushrooms.  If you asked me to choose my last supper, it would definitely consist of some combination of garlic, cheese and mushrooms.  After all, they are magic!  And so maybe they could grant you three wishes, the first of course being that your last supper would continue for like another 20 years.  The second being that every bite would taste better than the previous one.  And the third?  Well, world peace, of course, and health and happiness for all, blah blah blah.

Tonight, I went to a Mushroom Madness workshop at the Evergreen Brick Works (EBW), which is one of their Green Bites Cooking Workshops.  The session was led by Bruno Pretto, from Fun Guy Farms (how I love a good pun!), and supported by Marina Queirolo, the Food Program Manager at EBW.  I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect, but when I walked in, the aroma of sautéing mushrooms wafted through the air, enveloping me in its earthy embrace, and I, much like Pavlov’s dog, started to salivate almost immediately.  Divine!  We got to savour these mushrooms as Bruno talked through some slides on different varieties and their properties.  I retained nothing, as it was hard to hear over the sound of harps playing angelic music in my head.

The mushroom maestro at work.

From there, we all pitched in to help prepare the evening’s dishes, starting with assembling an arugula salad with some raw mushrooms that were marinated in a delicate lemon vinaigrette, then roasting some oyster mushrooms with olive oil and garlic for polenta with roasted oyster mushrooms (naturally) and a gorgonzola butter sauce.  Seriously.  Half butter, half cheese.  So simple, yet so luxurious and perfectly paired with the mushrooms and polenta on the palate.  As if that weren’t enough, we concluded with a black rice risotto with mixed mushrooms, butter, white wine, and grated parmesan.  And, of course, a whole lotta love.  Bruno had made his own mushroom stock for the risotto, and was kind enough to share the four(!) bottles of wine he brought for it with us as we indulged in our decadent creations.

And behold the splendid beauty that is this tasty trio –  Sorry you missed it.  (Note: I didn’t get a chance to snap a picture of the sautéed mushrooms at the start, as they caught me off guard, and by the time I thought of it, well… they had already gone to a better place).

  

Throughout this heavenly feeding frenzy, Bruno also explained the processes involved in both indoor and outdoor fungi cultivation.  
Some mushrooms, like the oyster, take only a few days to ‘fruit’ from a bag, whereas others, like the shiitake, can take several months to a year, as they sprout from logs.  This corresponds to their relative prices.  He brought samples of at least half a dozen varieties for us to examine, including the infamous chaga, which I had tasted in a tea a couple of weeks ago at the ultimate spa day ear candling event.  In its raw form, there are many things you might be tempted to call it, but I assure you, mushroom is not one of them.  It looks like a charred chunk of wood, and feels a bit spongy or cork-like underneath.  It grows high up on an injured birch tree, so the next time you’re out in the woods for a stroll, keep an eye out for this natural wonder, as its medicinal properties are supposed to be truly amazing.

Shiitake, on the other hand, are grown by inserting plugs into a hardwood log, and left out where they can be watered on a regular basis.  In addition to being a regular vendor at the EBW farmers’  market every Saturday morning, which is supplied by his farm just north of the city, Bruno also organizes workshops specifically on cultivating shiitake.  His website is chock full of other interesting tidbits as well for those who are agriculturally inclined.

Ah, I do remember one factoid now from the presentation, and that is that only about 150 varieties of mushrooms out of around 14000 species are actually poisonous, which is really not that much; however, Bruno did caution that if you do decide to go foraging for mushrooms, and he hopes that you do, be careful to bring at least two different books with you, preferably local to the region, to help you be certain the kind you find is indeed edible.  And try not to trample any smurfs while you’re at it, as they can be tricky to spot hanging out under their toadstools.  I’m pretty sure they were there first… but maybe that’s the mushrooms talking.

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Day 35: Movie at the Library.

Posted on April 4, 2012 by LaLa

I have this thing for books.  You know, the real kind, with covers and pages inside that are just begging to be turned, or earmarked to find that amazing passage again.  These ‘old school’ books don’t need to be plugged in, and you can read them in virtually any kind of light.  In a pinch, you could even use some of the pages as TP when camping in the woods.  I’d like to see you try that with an eReader or iPad!

Their only real drawback is their physical size, like when you’re reading in bed, and your eyes start to get drowsy and the book is so heavy that you drop it on your face and it leaves a mark and you lose your page… okay, that part sucks.  When you’re travelling, books can also be rather heavy and bulky, which is a particular nuisance on discount airlines that charge by the kilo for luggage – don’t make me say the R-word (Ryanair – argh!!!).  For this very reason, I did try to use an eReader before, and I can see the benefits… kinda… but until I get through the backlog of precious hardcovers and softcovers that I have accumulated over the past few years, there’s really no need, at least for now.

All that to say, a few years back, I thought I would try to be more environmentally friendly and instead of committing myself to long-term relationships with these books, and having them move into my limited shelf space, I could simply date them by getting a library card.  All good in theory… until the reality of the return policy hit home.  You have about three weeks to return a regular book, but only one week if it is a new release, or as the Toronto Public Library likes to call it, a ‘Best Bet’.  I can’t handle that kind of pressure!  I remember the days when I could easily finish a book in under a week, and I’m hoping to reacquaint myself with those times again very soon, but until then, my multi-book dabbling practices will no doubt continue for the foreseeable future.

Which brings me to today’s new thing.  Who knew that while you were out clubbing and working all this time, your local library grew up, too?  In addition to the things you remember from school, they now also lend out videos, DVDs, language-learning videos/DVDs,  CDs, eContent (for real!) and even pedometers!  On top of all of that, they  act like local community centres, offering various programs, creative workshops and even movie nights, for free.  I almost feel a little foolish having paid for all of the workshops I’ve been taking lately, as many similar ones are being held at the libraries, but then I got most of them at a substantial discount, thanks to my delightful deal vouchers, so it’s all good.

Tonight, I went to a movie at the library to see Force of Nature, an NFB documentary movie about David Suzuki.  Yup, that’s the guy you might remember who hosted The Nature of Things for 31 of its 50 year run, which is an incredible feat for any television program made anywhere, ever.  He truly is one of this country’s greatest treasures, and is the original myth buster, in my opinion.  You’d be hard pressed not to learn something any time the man opens his mouth, even to breathe.  His passion for the environment and what we are doing to it makes Al Gore look like a hobbyist.  What’s nice is that it weaves David’s own personal 75-year history into the film through a series of flashbacks while he is giving a speech.  The groovy shirts and hippie hairstyles along the way are enough to make us all laugh out loud, and are a nice counter-balance to the heavy opener about the internment of Canadians of Japanese descent during the second world war, including Canadian-born David and his family.  Heavy stuff.

I enjoyed the film immensely, as I still kind of revere Dr. Suzuki as the living legend that he is, and walked home thinking about sorting my recyclables better, unplugging unnecessary appliances, conserving water, and buying only Ocean Wise fish.  Basically, wanting to become a better environmental citizen.  It is precisely this kind of programming that the NFB and CBC have delivered over the years that make me proud of our country, and make them institutions worth preserving.  Okay, sorry to get all political on you there for a minute, but it’s just the facts.  Now back to our regularly scheduled light-hearded programming, delivered to you in digestible nuggets.  Mmmm… nuggets of savoury cheese curds melted on top of poutine… Peace out.

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