The Cooking Badge

Brown Owl and Guide pins

Brown Owl and Guide pins

We have an automatic garage door opener. (More on that later.) Living in suburbia, I typically leave the house through the garage, open the door, back out and press a button in the car to close the door. This action, by the way, I must do with intense focus, concentration and mindfulness, otherwise - a half block away, filled with doubt – I turn back to check. Ok, the door is closed - and I drive away.

But this was early Monday morning – garbage day – and the blue bins had already been emptied, so leaving the car in the driveway, I returned the blue bins to the garage. Stepping back into the car I hear a bird call – “too wit, too wit, too woo”. I am not a birder, but I was a Brownie and a Girl Guide. No idea why we used to chant “too wit, too wit, too woo”, but we did – over and over and over.

What bird was this? Consult Google. Answer: the Tawny Owl – in fact two Tawny Owls! “Tawny owls make the familiar 'too-wit too-woo' call during the night and early hours but this is actually a male and female owl calling to each other - the female makes the 'too-wit' sound and the male answers with 'too-woo'.” [Source]

Several of my recent blog posts have been reminiscences – and this little bird call triggered another journey down memory lane - hope you don't mind.

For those who did not participate in “Guiding”, the leader of the Brownie pack was called Brown Owl, and second in command was Tawny Owl – there was even a Snowy Owl. The little girls were split into groups named for elves and fairies and we sat in a circle around a papier-mâché toadstool. I continued into Girl Guides – a transition that involved (for me) memorable pageantry. Walking from one group to the other along a silk carpet wearing fairy wings. “Hark who goes there? A Brownie. By what right do you come? By the right of my golden wings.” These days, I can’t remember why I walked into the next room, but I can remember that – good grief.

In Brownies and Guides, there were many areas in which one was encouraged to learn and demonstrate new skills for the reward of a badge. I had several badges, one of them being the cooking badge – not sure if that was at the Brownie or Girl Guide level – though I was quite young.

Here’s all I remember – I was told to go to a specified house of a family I did not know. In hindsight, it was probably a leader of a neighbouring pack who (bravely) volunteered for this trial. Arriving at the house, the lady told me what I had to make and then she closed the kitchen door and left me alone. I was told to make mashed potatoes and beef patties, and I think the vegetable was canned corn. There was no recipe that I recall. Corn and potatoes – easy-peasy. I have no idea what I mixed into the meat – then I fried the patties up in a fry pan. When ready, I served them and waited in the kitchen until they were done eating, and then had to tidy up. I honestly do not know how that family ate what I made. Maybe they didn’t. 

If you are thinking that they stashed away my food and ate a pizza instead, I must note that at the time there were few (if any) pizza take-out joints. If you grew up in Hamilton, you may have had your first pizza at P-Wee’s Pizzeria on Crockett St – opened from 1963-1994. If you could not afford that regularly, then you perhaps began to buy Kraft or Chef Boyardee Pizza Kits. I just Googled this and they still sell them! How can these still be a thing!!??

But I digress…

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Shockingly, I got my Cooking Badge – though did not afterwards embrace cooking, and in the ensuing years had grumpy debates with my mother re whether one could ever catch a man without being able to cook – most notably, cabbage rolls. Once married, one of my “go to” cookbooks was “101 Ways to Use Hamburger” – and pan fried meat patties, served with yams from a can, were often on the menu. Bizarre!

It is only fitting that the recipe linked to this blog post be a meatball – but times have changed and I have changed with them. These little delicacies combine lean turkey and healthy lentils! With a choice of sauces you have a hit on your hands!

Permit me a few postscripts.

What about the garage door opener? These were not common when our house was built. For our 25th wedding anniversary, my parents and in-laws split the cost of automatic garage door openers. All my dad’s idea. I was a daddy’s girl through and through, but was so disappointed in that gift – what a crazy way to celebrate a marriage! I forced him to return the thing and used the money instead to frame prints of the passage of time in a relationship – a better memento. A few years later we caved in and bought the door openers. I still sometimes think of my dad as I enjoy that convenience. He meant well and I must have seemed so unappreciative.

Spring

Spring

Summer

Summer

Fall

Fall

Winter

Winter


Brownie badges. I cannot recall others I earned, but I just loved learning to do knots! I had a cute little booklet with all the basic knots which disappeared at some point. These days I get a kick out of the fact that there is a très cool app for learning knots called 3D Knots.

I never became involved in Guiding as a leader, but I do have a leader’s pin (pictured above along with my Guide pin - who knows what happened to the Brownie pin - a leaping elf!). In my past life, I was a post-secondary educator – mostly of mature students. The horrible part of that job was the grading. The best parts were the kind remarks and gestures from students. They sometimes claimed that I “changed their life”. I made sure the last truth they learned was that they changed their own lives through their dedicated study. Nonetheless, one memorable student was determined to offer me a tribute to my role in the tapestry of her life – she gifted me her Brown Owl pin - so sweet!

Here’s the recipe for Swedish Lentil Meatballs

Use Comments, below, to share or ask questions - and if you enjoyed this read, please take a second to click on "Like"!

P.S. Were you a Brownie or Girl Guide? Any memories? badges? Love to hear your stories!

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Time is on my side...

So said the Rolling Stones in their 1964 recording.

For a friend, grieving the loss of a loved one, time was not on their side. 

So, here I am pondering time and dearly departed.

I am now too old to “die young” – though boomers do keep moving the bar on the definition of "young". The unexpected passing of someone the same age invokes the “live each day to the fullest” mantra – and yet…

Time – it is the gift of retirement. As a thoroughly modern working woman, juggling home, family, full-time work and graduate studies, I never achieved any work/life balance that included clever meal planning and Zen cooking. Now, especially since I began blogging, I have time to plan a project each week – recording an old family recipe or experimenting with things that have long been on my "to do" list.

“Recording an old family recipe” can be tough when the “family” is long gone. This May will mark 42 years since the death of my paternal grandmother. (I had to look that up.) I have very fond memories of her even though we did not spend massive amounts of time together. Perhaps because of some quirks of my grandfather, they became the grandparents that were visited less often than my maternal grandparents. Though I was a (young) grown-up when she died, it was stupendously stupid of me that I did not make time to learn from her / at her side. But I was not, then, who I am now, and “we don’t know what we’ve got ‘til it’s gone”. Her eyes lit up when I visited, and she would almost conspiratorially pull me to the back room to show me all the glorious handiwork she had embroidered for me. She was only a bit older than I am now when she died, after which my grandfather went a bit berserk and gave away the contents of those drawers to neighbours. Technically (and otherwise) he was kind to me, and on his dairy farm there was always a new calf named after me. By the time of his own death he had few assets or possessions. The only thing I “inherited” from him was a (made in Germany) colander that I use to this day. 

I think of this grandmother as a brave woman.

My father on the left...

My father on the left...

It is conceivable that my grandfather was responding to these Canadian posters inviting emigration to The West. Leaving my grandmother in Hungary with two preschoolers, he arrived at Pier 21 in Halifax, was given $25 and property in Spiritwood, Saskatchewan (close to North Battleford). It remains hard for me to fathom that, with two wee kiddies, she travelled from a tiny village, across Europe, took a ship across the ocean, landed in Halifax and then travelled across Canada to join him several years later. The story, as I know it, is that the day she stepped off the train in North Battleford, he was in town mailing a letter advising her not to come. It must have been a brutal existence. She had three more children – two of which died out west, in winter. They had to tend a fire for several days to thaw the ground enough for a burial. Having moved to Ontario, they left their dairy farm in Wellandport after the third Canadian-born son was killed driving over a railway crossing. In Hamilton, she replaced farm work with factory work - walking to a corner close to her house where she’d be picked up by a company bus transporting workers to/from the E.D. Smith factory. She died from heart disease - but surely must have also had a broken heart.

From her kitchen, I remember she always had cinnamon spread, and/but never "real" ketchup. Instead she bought Catsup. The internet says ketchup / catsup – same thing – but in my experience it wasn’t. In hindsight it probably had no, or less, sugar!

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My grandmother was the Kalács Queen (kuh-lawtch). This is a Hungarian sweet bread probably not unlike similar breads all over Europe and Eastern Europe. I can still conjure up that taste memory! My lifelong yeast phobia translates into the fact that I have not yet tried an official Hungarian kalács recipe. However, the second I laid eyes on this recipe for Lemon Ricotta Buns I felt sure it might replicate a ricotta kalács she used to make – and it did!

I now have “time” to make things that involve proofing time. Is that a good use of my time? Am I living each day to the fullest? Hard to say, but as Michael Pollan says in his book / documentary series “Cooked” – “time is the missing ingredient in our cooking” – and I am content that this ingredient is now a staple in my kitchen.

For as Bill Watterson / Calvin and Hobbes says - “There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want.” 

For the sake of brevity, I am shelving so many more thoughts on "time". Want a good read? Carl Honore’s In Praise of Slow. Good movie? About Time. Daily meditation? Read any one of these quotations.

Here’s the recipe for Lemon Ricotta Buns. Use Comments, below, to share or ask questions - and if you enjoyed this read, please take a second to click on "Like"!

I am yellow today...

Yellow is on my mind since this post is a preamble to sharing my Flan recipe - a lovely pale yellow delicacy. Pastels are everywhere now that it is officially Spring - even though the Southern Ontario weather-god did not get the memo. Why do we associate yellow with Spring? It is the colour of many of the first flowers, but I could not find an answer to this question, other than “in almost every culture yellow represents sunshine, happiness, and warmth.” [Source

This earworm has taken up permanent residence in my head - “I am yellow today… I shine my light out like the sun…” If you live in Canada, you may recognize that lyric from this year’s tourism commercial for Newfoundland and Labrador (NL). I invite you to pause and enjoy the “Crayons” video.

Viewing the video, you are captivated by the landscapes and the colours of NL and are ready to plan a trip, but… there are some things you need to know. Almost 30 years ago, having already had our first visit to NL we got a giggle from the NL documentary called “Rain, Drizzle and Fog” - and the title says it all. (Update: When I first posted this blog I could not find this online, but now you can watch this sweet NFB documentary here. It is enjoyable and includes beloved NL personalities Mary Walsh and Andy Jones - sibling of the equally talented Cathy Jones).

I am not intending to discourage anyone from visiting “The Rock” – have been there several times and love it – and the talent, culture and food. Go, go, go! but choose your wardrobe thoughtfully. My last visit was in the month of May and it was freezing! Mind you, what they say about maritime climates is true – “If you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes”. There was in fact a day when the sun came out and the temperature went to double digits – the locals whipped out their flip flops for those few exhilarating hours. Once on a July holiday, way up on the Great Northern Peninsula there was still snow on the shady side of the road! (Yes, a summer snowball fight ensued.)

Most people get to NL by plane or ferry. We always chose the ferry. North Sydney, NS to Port aux Basques - a 5-7 hour ferry ride that we took overnight. Not “wasting” a day on the crossing seemed like a good idea at the time, but it meant staying up late to board the ferry and arriving at the crack of dawn, then driving in a sleep deprived daze to Corner Brook for breakfast. The ferry to St. John’s takes 14-16 hours and once on land, it’s another 1.5 hour drive to St. John’s. The drive time from Port aux Basques to St. John’s is at least 9 hours and that explains why we never, as a family, visited that city. When traveling by car, the long journey to and from the capital of The Rock never seemed to be a good match to the allocated holiday schedule. Noteworthy - one should heed the warnings of NL-ers about driving after dusk. Moose accidents are still a huge issue. The provincial government even offers a Moose Advisory.

On our first visit, in the 1970s, driving had additional limitations. Wanting to travel up the Great Northern Peninsula to see St. Anthony’s and L’Anse aux Meadows, we were warned by locals that our car would not withstand the long drive on the gravel road. Years later, on that same (now paved) road, I formed one of my fondest memories. It was my turn to drive, and music from Mark Knopfler’s Local Hero soundtrack was playing. (Click for musical interlude.) Windswept shrubs seemingly growing sideways separated us from the sea on my left - still the Gulf of St. Lawrence - and the yellow sun was shining!!

We went as far north as we could, staying at a fabulous B&B called The Tickle Inn, in Cape Onion. (Sadly, it closed in 2015.) My boys were thrilled to have a separate room - the loft - accessed by what must have seemed like a magical ladder. We slept with windows open and were warned not to be alarmed by noises in the night - they’d be growlers - small chunks of iceberg rubbing on the shore. We grabbed a small one for our cooler when leaving, and to this day still have two pop bottles filled with melted iceberg.

The chance of seeing an iceberg is certainly an attraction - though iceberg alley is not always busy. NL offers a website to help with this. (The satellite feed to the map goes live on April 1. Google Newfoundland + iceberg and check out the News results.) There were no active icebergs in 2011 when I finally got to St John’s. This time, I flew in to St John’s, travelling with my BFF. One of our outings was to nearby Quidi Vidi Harbour where one year later a glorious iceberg was trapped in that wee inlet – bad timing / luck for us.

I need to bring this back to food. Good moment to mention that several entrepreneurs have taken to harvesting and selling iceberg water – Berg and Glace

I am pausing here to seriously and ruthlessly edit down all that I could share about NL. snip <> cut <> snip <> cut….

I cannot say this of all Canadian provinces, but Newfoundland is part of the tapestry of my life. Sorry Labrador for being infrequently mentioned. I am sure some of the images in the NL commercials come from Torngat Mountains National Park. I can point on a map to Labrador City and Churchill Falls and HVGB. From watching CBC St. John’s supper hour news (yup, I know - crazy, eh?), I know that’s short for Happy Valley Goose Bay. I’d consider driving to Newfoundland via Labrador if only there was a road connecting the end of Quebec’s #138 to Labrador’s #510. (Mind you…  a lot of the #510 is still unpaved…)

So much laughter in my life is owed to Newfoundlanders – a long string of comedy dating back to CODCO, Gullage's, Hatching, Matching and Dispatching - up to more contemporary This Hour Has 22 Minutes (stopped watching after Shaun left), and Rick Mercer Reports (Update: Rick retired the show in 2018 - sad...). Later additions to the CODCO core are greatly talented – Mark Critch, Susan Kent, Shaun Majumder. Then there’s Jonny Harris hosting the charming Still Standing - where he visits towns with dwindling populations, but inspirational community spirit.

2022 Update - the TV version of Mark Critch’s autobiography is totally charming. (Watch season 1 on CBC Gem. Season 2 starting soon.)

Majumder also ventured away from pure comedy long enough to do several seasons of Majumder Manor. His goal of using tourism for cultural/economic revitalization of his hometown of Burlington, NL mirror what’s happening with Fogo Island’s breathtaking project – save your pennies for that experience.

TV talk is not complete without reference to Republic of Doyle. The older airport taxi driver asked if we’d heard of it. Yes of course we had! He wanted to assure us that it was just TV and St. John ’s was no where near as dangerous as that! NL gives us humour, great actors like Gordon Pinsent, and real characters as in (past) Premier Danny Williams.  Take three minutes to view this video: Williams + Pinsent + Critch = hilarious.

NL films? - The Grand Seduction (the English language re-make of the Quebec film), Shipping News, John and the Missus. NL literature? – Wayne Johnston (start with The Colony of Unrequited Dreams); Michael Crummey’s Galore; Annie Proulx’s Shipping News – and that’s just the tip of the iceberg (forgive the pun.) For a soundtrack to your reading there’s much to choose from – Great Big Sea, Hey Rosetta, Allan Doyle (who chums around with Russel Crowe). Under music may be the best place to add Tom Power, host of CBC Q.

And finally, the food.

A quirky thing you’ve got to love about Newfoundlanders is their passion for bologna. Newfoundlanders love it so much that many don’t buy it by the slice, opting instead for Big Stick Bologna – a nine-pound sausage. In 2017, the New York Times reported that “Canada’s largest bologna producer, Maple Leaf Foods, estimates that the province’s 530,000 residents put away 4.2 million pounds of bologna a year.”

Some NL-ers might admit that until recently there was not much to say about the food, but now there is! Added to their classics - cod tongues and scrunchions, toutons, seal flipper pie (yup, that's a real thing), partridge berry and cloudberry jam, and Purity candies - there is a new wave of creative chefs making national headlines. 

Here’s the moment when I must confess a foodie faux pas, regret. I did a ton of walking in the heart of St. John’s, often passing a cute little sign advertising a B&B. I looked it up on the internet and read - “local chef Todd Perrin and hosted by his parents - Bill & Wanda”. Family business with the son doing the cooking. Yes, I thought, cute – but not where we are going to eat. A few months later, I tune in to the first season of Top Chef Canada (now discontinued) and behold – Todd Perrin from NL!! He did not win, but has since opened Mallard Cottage in Quidi Vidi (close to the microbrewery) and is now set to open a second eatery in the same area. Missed the chance to meet him and enjoy his cooking - boo! (Update: as part of my food writing gig I did interview him! yay!)

It gets worse. Twice we thought about eating at Raymond’s. I had read about the place, but each time we approached the imposing building and peeked in at the white tablecloths, we decided it was out of our budget and incompatible with Mountain Equipment wardrobes. Of course, Raymond’s is now #4 in Canada’s Top 100 restaurants – oops, another miss. (Update - now permanently closed.)

So where did we end up each night we gave Raymond’s a pass? At the Aqua restaurant. That chef, Mark McCrowe, described as an award-winning Newfoundland and Labrador chef went on to appear on Chopped Canada. Sad to say that Aqua is now closed. Nonetheless, as with so many cities and towns, St. John's is showing signs of youthful entrepreneurial activity. For example, the “Brooklyn” vibe was noticeable at The Rocket Bakery

[Update: The NL food scene is booming. I can think of no one better than Gabby Peyton, fellow FBC-er, to help keep you on top of all that's new in NL and beyond. Check out her site Food Girl in Town.]

Finally… the Flan. The recipe source calls it a "Spanish style" flan, but in the context of this ode to NL, let’s re-christen it Portuguese Flan to acknowledge the strong links between the fishers of each country. (Read more about the Portuguese White Fleet).

Yellow - sunshine, happiness and warmth? Yellow is also associated with caution and cowardice – but take heart! You can make this impressive and tasty dessert!! Think of the yellow that is associated with “amusement, optimism, gentleness, and spontaneity” and bliss in the kitchen! [Source]

Here’s the link to the recipe. Use Comments, below, to share or ask questions - and if you enjoyed this read, please take a second to click on "Like"!

P.S. The crew at This Hour Has 22 Minutes, not surprisingly, did a parody of the crayon video. Spoiler – NL has had another tough winter, so the colour is “white”…

P.P.S. Had not realized until after posting this that 11:59, March 31, 1949 was the moment NL joined Canada as the tenth province. Not everyone in NL was happy about that - a fact reflected in the 1992 film Secret Nation - which can be watched online. (The first few minutes only are choppy.)

P.P.P.S. Anthony Bourdain was just there - can't believe I forgot to tape that episode!! arghh.

 

Out with the old - sort of, maybe...

Have you noticed that many retailers seem to be displaying stockpiles of plastic storage bins? What do they know about our post-xmas needs or moods? They seem to be guessing (perhaps rightly) that we all want to tidy-up.

And then… Marie Kondo is back – can't get away from her - Spark Joy in the bookstores, and articles in newspapers, my magazines and email digests. Never heard of her? She’s the young woman who parlayed the Japanese minimalist aesthetic into a global following. Lately she seems to have softened her original strategy – namely, discard everything that does not give you joy. She admits to tossing away her hammer and now concedes that some practical things do bring joy – and that hammering nails with her fry pan was not joyful. Her newest publications on the "KonMari Method" include hand-drawn illustrations of techniques such as folding socks. I am gobsmacked that there is a market for such tips, but maybe I am just envious of her bank account.

We are officially past the mid-point of Winter which may explain the onset of "Spring Cleaning" twitches. As I write this, my office is in a state of upheaval linked to “tidying”, as I pull things off shelves and out of drawers. Order, it seems, is preceded by chaos.

Props for food photos?

Props for food photos?

Are we genetically coded to do spring cleaning? Do other mammals spring clean? one of the few cultural links to this impulse that I can find is Passover rituals – and they seem to have more to do with “cleaning” than de-cluttering (DC). A major house cleaning is also a Chinese New Year tradition. I am just at the DC stage and am dismayed that it reveals the “need for clean”. Dust and fingerprints previously hidden under under/by piles of books and stuff see the light of day – eek! Speaking of the sun - while I notice welcome changes in the quality of this light (and prefer it to gloominess) there is no hiding from what it illuminates. Makes me prefer entertaining after dark with low lighting.

I used to say that I would spend the first year of retirement cleaning my house. Have not done that and now, several years later, I am even discovering things from my workplace office I have not yet discarded!! “Stuff” is linked to identity. At first, tossing out work stuff felt like tossing out part of "me". Loss of identity does not, however, account entirely for my failure to de-clutter. Each year the cull of any/all “stuff” has gone deeper – and needs to go deeper yet if I wish to spare my kids from the 'some day' burden of emptying this house. (For a great read on this theme, check out “They left us everything”, by Plum Johnson. I love that book! Spoiler - it takes her a year to empty her parents' home.)

By now you might be thinking “Hey… I thought this was supposed to be a food blog…” What’s the connection? Well for one thing, taking food photos seems to require some props. More than once in recent months I have had something in my hand ready for one or another discard pile and then I think… “A prop!” A yucky old cookie sheet? Just appeared in a photo spread in a food magazine, so maybe I could use this for an Instagram pic… A plate I will never use for eating or serving, but… maybe in a Twitter pic… Food Bloggers of Canada just shared tips on places to find props. One is “raid mom’s house” – good grief, I am the mom. In fairness, FBC suggests that food bloggers share props with others. Nonetheless, de-cluttering has just become more complicated.

How can I link all of this to a recipe? By concluding that “out with the old” does not always apply.

An “old country” recipe was recently resurrected in the KB Kitchen thanks to Saveur Hungarian Ham and Bean Soup (Csülkös Bableves). It was the first time in my life I bought a large smoked ham hock. I soaked pinto beans overnight, and the next day the kitchen was filled with wondrous “old country” aromas for hours. The soup was so good it brought tears to the eyes and rekindled great food memories. Here’s the link to the recipe.

Use Comments, below, to share - and if you enjoyed this read, please take a second to click on "Like"!