Easy Peasy Carbonara Tuesday

THE QUICKEST FANCIEST LUNCH:

1. Bring a pot of salted water to a boil. Add any dry pasta that you please. Today I used fusilli.
2. Heat a lump of butter up in a small saucepan on medium high heat and add 1/4 onion, chopped finely.
3. You can add whatever you want in this step re:meat. I used a little left over ground beef, but you can keep it classic and go with some chopped up bacon or pancetta. Whatever you choose, fry it until it's golden and then reduce to low.
4. Whisk 2 egg yolks and a good splash of cream together, and by splash I mean about 1/2 cup.
5. When the pasta is cooked, drain and add to the onion mixture saucepan. Add the egg and cream, a good crack of pepper and a generous sprinkling of Parmesan cheese. Stir until the sauce thickens a bit and gets nice and glossy. I garnished with some flat leaf parsley to be fancy.

YUM!

The Sandwich Quest

I've been on the hunt for the perfect sandwich.

I had the most confused 'pulled-pork' sandwich at a restaurant called Chill Winston the other day and to say that it left a bad taste in my mouth would be a euphemism. Truth be told, it just made me feel really sad.

It could have been great. It had the foundation straight: pulled barbecue pork and caramelized apple spread on a toasty baguette. Check.

Here's where it got weird: Vietnamese condiments were a part of this sandwich. Pickled carrots, cucumber and small, spicy chilies topped my wanna-be southern shredded meat.

I tried, unsuccessfully to eat this poor, sad, confused 'wich. It had me distraught all day. I got so caught up dreaming about what it could have been...

I know how a pulled pork sandwich is supposed to taste. It should be saucy, not dry, and it should have deep, golden brown colour resulting from hours of slow cooking.

This meat did not possess either of these qualities. It was beige, dry and completely underwhelming. It wasn't even the messy affair that required a wet nap to clean up the sauce up to my wrists like I was hoping for.

So the other morning I kept pushing back breakfast thinking that maybe I could find a date to go to my favourite spot, Bandidas. The Alan's breakfast (bowl of mixed greens, pinto bean mash, guacamole, fresh tomatillo salsa, fried eggs, cornbread muffin tops with honey butter, pleaaaaaase) was calling my name. Alas, no luck on the date, so I hit the streets with my heart set on a sandwich that would make me forget about the Chill Winston Experience (C.W.E).

I went to a long-time favourite local's spot called Paul's Place - The Omlettery, on Granville and W7th Ave. The omelettes here are exceptional, no questions asked. The colour on the perfectly cooked egg outside is golden yellow, with the fillings inside always fresh and a perfect crunch. To make sure you always get the omelette you ordered, the kitchen thoughtfully places a definitive piece of whatever is inside, on the top. It acts like an affirmation: 'Yes! I am the chorizo and corn egg roll--up that you ordered!'

Today, though, I had sandwich on the mind. So, I went out on a limb and ordered the Big Bubba Breakfast Club:
Triple decker sourdough bread topped with egg, fried mushrooms, avocado, cheese and sprouts. It sounded great.

It was definitely not stupendous. It didn't even make me forget about the C.W.E.
The yoke was hard, so there was none of that perfect, golden dribble to dip the 3 pieces of bread into.
Strike number one.

The crusts of the bread were hard and sharp and cut my mouth, while the bread in the middle of the sandwich was soft and almost on the edge of soggy. It wasn't up for the job to support the Big Bubba Club. It didn't know there would be so much to hold up.
That warrants strike two, no?

The cheese was orange and generic and the whole thing was pretty boring. I am a fried egg sandwich connoisseur and this was no fly egg sarnie.

I left with resigned lamentation at Vancouver sandwiches' inability to impress me. I was daydreaming about days when I lived down the street from the mom and pop Italian deli, Pepinos, that made sandwiches that would make you weep with joy. The roasted turkey with roasted red peppers, eggplant, cheese and shredded lettuce with the house sauce? I'll take three please. Brown bread, and an cappucino on the side, please.

Where is Vancouver's Pepinos? Do you know? Will you share your sandwich secrets with me?

Yesterday I came home from a long day of work on my feet feeling exhausted and hungry. A friend offered to make me a tuna sandwich and I gratefully accepted.

Please believe it was of the best tuna sandwiches I have ever eaten. It had small chopped onion and jalapenos, miracle whip and lots of mashing up until it was smooth. The best part was that it was on top of Texas-style, soft, thick, fluffy, white bread. It was the kind of sandwich that brought me right back to childhood memories, working a booth at the Waldorf Christmas Faire, frantically looking around for the saviour of a sandwich man, who carried around trays of tuna, egg and salmon salad sandwiches. They were like gold.

A sandwich always taste better when you are hungry, and they almost always taste exceptional when someone else makes it for you.

I can tell you, while I was inhaling that soft, perfect sandwich, the memory of the C.W.E floated off into the distance. Always trust, the answer's usually closer than you expect.

The Best Chicken Things: Part Two of Two

So you've been stuffing your face full of chicken for the last two days and now you have these bones just begging to be turned into a beautiful broth.

Broth is something that I like to always have in my fridge or freezer. It's easy to make a lot of at one time, and it makes a hot meal in minutes with the addition of whatever you have on hand.

After making sure all the meat has been picked from the chicken, put it in a deep stockpot and fill with cold water.

As I said, I wanted to try something new this time, so the stock is the first place to lay down the 'theme' of your flavours. This is the platform to set the tone for whatever you'll be making with the broth. The combinations are limitless, a real opportunity to get creative. Here are my two favourites:

Asian: Add lemongrass (smash it on the side of the counter first) , charred red onion (put it on your burner for a bit to darken it up) star anise, peppercorns, garlic and ginger.

Classic: Carrots, onions, celery, garlic, peppercorns, bouquet garnis (parsley thyme and bay leaf)

This time though, I wanted to impress myself. Try something fresh and new. I could feel the potential of this soup.

When it comes to cooking, the creation process for me is an ongoing affair. All day long I think about the next meal I'll prepare. I love the ritual of entering the kitchen. I can't begin to cook unless the kitchen is clean and I have a sharp knife. I asked for a global chef's knife for my birthday when I was 12. I get panicked if I have to cook with a dull knife. It makes the most profound difference in one's ability to prepare dishes with ease and comfort. I like a wet cloth under my cutting board to keep it from slipping around, too, if we're on the subject of kitchen rituals.

The stock: This time I put onions, celery, garlic, and carrots into the pot, as well as a few bay leaves, a couple whole jalapeno peppers and a big stick of cinnamon.
I brought it to a boil, skimming off the foam that rises to the top, then turned the heat down to medium low and let it cook for about 2 hours. The longer your stock simmers, the deeper the flavour, so if you've got the time, use it.

I strained the broth and set aside, reserving about 2 cups to soak some rice in. I used jasmine rice and let it sit in the stock, covered, while I prepped the veggies for the soup. I used a cup of uncooked rice and it ended up soaking up more broth than I anticipated. Remember that it will swell and break up, making the soup thick and lovely.

I chopped a whole red onion, a few cloves of garlic, and some more jalapenos, all fairly small. I took some red and green peppers and cut them into big chunks, quarters, and roughly chopped some carrots as well.

Heat the stock pot over medium high heat, add a glug of oil, add the garlic and chilies and cook for about one minute. Next add the onions and cook until translucent and aromatic. Add the peppers and carrots next, and another stick of cinnamon. Pour your stock over the veggies, bring to a boil, reduce the heat and cook it for about 15 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

I made a little tomato salsa to garnish (tomatoes, cilantro, green onions, garlic, lime juice and salt) and fried some corn tortillas to crispy in a hot pan with some canola oil and salt.

The soup was pretty divine. Try it out and let me know what you think. I've made a fair few chicken soups and this one might take the cake.

The Best Chicken Things: Part One of Two

I've done it.

I made a chicken soup that was better than my Mother's (sorry Mom).

I wanted to try something completely different this time when tackling the weekly pot to sustain me through the work week. I do curry all the time, and the classic chicken soup can get really comfortable, really quickly. If this is what comes out of trying something new, you'll be lucky to eat the same thing twice out of my kitchen.

First though, let's start with the chicken.

Roasting chickens has become one of my favourite Sunday activities. I love every part of it - from rinsing and patting it down to ripping of pieces of crispy skin when it's fresh out of the oven. There is something unspeakably comforting about the smell and ritual that comes with roasting a bird. I had no idea how impressive it was until I cooked one for some friends at school: "What do you mean? Like, gravy and everything?"

You have to start with a good, plump bird - organic is a must, it's worth the extra dollars.

(Check out Jamie's Fowl Dinners on youtube - never eat farmed fowl again!)

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees while you are prepping the chicken.

Rinse the chicken, inside and out, and remove (but don't throw away) the giblets (usually just the neck, sometimes the heart or kidney or lung) and pat the chicken dry with paper towel. Put the giblets in a small sauce pan and cover with cold water (about a cup) and keep on medium low heat. Don't be grossed out by these little nuggets of flavour. They are the backbone to the gravy; they provide the foundation for the drippings to do their magic gravy business on.

In a blender, food processor or bowl, mash up 1/2 cup soft butter, 4 cloves garlic, 2 small chilies, and whatever herbs you like.

Line your roasting dish with thick slices of onion, skin on is fine, chopped carrots and celery. Drizzle a little olive oil and a couple teaspoons of water on top. Make an even surface so the chicken sits just right.

Crispy skin junkie like me? The secret lies in the separating the skin on the bird from the flesh, allowing the air to get in between and really crisp it up.

Oh! It just so happens you have a smooth creamy butter packed with flavour to smear in between.

There are two sections on top of the bird, one on either breast, that the skin will lift up easily in. There is a piece down that middle that won't come up, keeping the two sides separate. Grab a handful of the butter and mash it under the skin, really rubbing it into the meat and getting into every curve of the bird. The skin on the legs will come up too, but be careful because it rips easily.

I like to rub the top of the skin down with the extra butter, salt and pepper the top and a little drizzle of olive oil.

I also really like to roll a lemon around, slice it in half and stuff it in the cavity. The flavours in the cavity are up to you: quarters of onion, garlic cloves, rosemary sprigs...get creative.

Pop the chicken in the oven and roast for half an hour, then turn the oven down to 350. Every so often (30 minutes) take the chicken out and using a long utensil, tip it up so the juices run into the roasting dish. These essential juices will be the base for the gravy.

I'll just say, cook it until it's done, because honestly, I have no idea how long they take. It totally depends on your oven, the chicken, where you live...

When you poke the leg of the chicken and it runs clear, the legs wiggle easily and it looks done, it probably is. But use a thermometer if that makes you feel more comfortable.

Take the hot lemon out of the cavity and save for people to squeeze over the chicken.

Pour the contents, veggies and all, of the roasting dish into a sauce pan and bring to a boil, turn down to medium low heat and add a couple tablespoons of flour, stirring constantly. Cook it for a couple of minutes to lose the flour taste. Now's the time to add the 'giblet broth' that has been simmering all this time. Add a little at a time, remembering that the flour will thicken it.

Strain, smashing all the veggies against the sieve to get every last drop of perfect flavour out and then return to the saucepan. Simmer until it's as thick as you like. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Pour on everything.

No big deal, just a perfect roast chicken.