A Fall List

This autumn, in no particular order, I want to...

• Pick apples, eating no less than three in the process and climbing the tallest ladder to get above the branches and gaze across the entire orchard with the sun on my face.
• Plant garlic for spring, which will require having garden plot ready to receive them. And so...
• Build at least three raised beds by the fence, under the weeping willow. Oh, and give that thing a haircut.
• Source an organic turkey and roast it for a group of friends. Serve with homemade applesauce. Which reminds me...
• Make gallons of blush pink applesauce and can it. Use Cortland apples.
• Watch my son turn 5 and burst with pride while simultaneously holding back sobs.
• Visualize and execute a 'rocket cake' for said birthday. (Help me!)
• Shoot a family holiday photo -- with no attempt to top last year's masterpiece.
• Visit the open air market as often as possible just to gape at the seasons bounty.
• Roast many sugar pumpkins, turn them into puree and bake up a storm.
• Purchase way more produce than we can possibly eat at that market, then invent ways to fit 8-10 vegetables into a meal.
• Watch our back forest turn all sorts of mapletastic colors and collect leaves with the boys.
• Wear a wool sweater and a pretty scarf.
• Buy two pear trees and plant them in the back yard. Name them Adam and Eve.
• Read a book, a good book. Maybe even one about dragons.
  
• Serve a harvest dinner outdoors, highlighting local seasonal food.
• Finish dinner with toasted cinnamon marshmallows around the campfire.
• Built this chicken coop and research for chicks next spring.
• Air out my down douvet and then replace my cotton quilt with it.
• Make lacto-fermented salsa.

What's on your fall list?

Carrot , Leek & Apple Soup with Garlic Croutons

The challenge of creating a spectacular-or at least edible-dish out of fridge odds and ends is one that I have always relished. I believe it to be a sign of a good cook: creative, resourceful and an independent thinker rather than just open a cookbook. I have to say I'm pretty good at visualizing how ingredients can come together for a potential meal-probably thanks to all the practice I got making 'staff meal' when I worked in a professional kitchen. No, we didn't tuck into a lamb chop from the menu when we were hungry or munch on foie gras pâté and croutons, we ate a family-style meal together every night just before service that was prepared by one of the chef de parties.
I should have kept a log of the random items that were held on the shelf designated for staff eating. It was not uncommon to have to put together a meal for fourteen using some or all of the following:

several litres of razor clam juice
60 or so scrawny quail legs
reject fresh pasta dough (presumably tough as nails)
soft/slimy cucumbers (tomatoes, peppers, spinach)
a jar of picked quail eggs
giant tub of dijon
mounds and mounds of venison scraps
a litre or more of beet purée

and so on and so fourth.
What I made was generally decided for me; it depended on how much time I could take away from my usual lengthy list of prep work. One has to think "is it really in my best interest to clean all the venison, grind it, make a bolognaise and a spinach béchamel, and roll the pasta for a lasagna?"
As popular as I would have been with my fellow chefs had I done so (comfort food rocks when night after night all you plate is ultra-finicky fine cuisine) the more realistic scenario was probably me tossing the quail legs in a speedy marinade before roasting them and serving with a pot of rice.


All that said, I recently made a memorable soup from my fridge scraps after a vigorous clean turned up some withering vegetables. There's hardly a better time to clean out the refrigerator than after the holidays (after a power outage is pretty ideal, too) and it's a New Year to boot, so if you haven't done it yet, get in there and toss those mouldy brussel sprouts and stale fruitcake. Be sure to wear gloves, though, it may be worse than you think; as it was in my case.

As I was making the soup, I took the time to scribble down what I was doing in loose recipe form in case I wanted to blog about it. Of course, I have no idea where that piece of paper/napkin/envelope is now, so I'm going to try and remember what I did because it's worth repeating.

Carrot, leek and apple: not a new combination by any means, but a trio that I had wasting away in my vegetable drawer; add a liter of homemade chicken stock in the freezer that needed to give way to three vital incoming pints of Hagen Daaz (good things come in threes), and voilà, soup! For fun, toss in some whole-wheat garlic croutons for crunch and bacon because--well, bacon needs no explanation, really.


Carrot, Leek and Apple Soup
(All measurements are estimates. Feel free to change up the recipe to suit yourself)

Peel four large carrots and chop into 1-inch rounds. Remove outer leaves from a large leek and discard. Wash the leek well and chop roughly. In a large pot, melt 3 tablespoons butter and add carrots and leek. Cook over medium heat until the vegetables start to soften and their color brightens.
Peel two apples (I used Granny Smith), core, chop and add to the pot. Add about 4 cups of chicken stock or water (enough to cover the carrot mixture by an inch or so), a bay leaf and bring to a boil. Lower heat, cover pot and simmer until carrots are tender. Remove pot from heat and discard bay leaf.
In a blender, puree soup until silky smooth. Season with salt and pepper and thin with a little cream to desired consistency.

For Croutons:
Cube several slices of bread into 1 centimeter cubes. Heat about 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a sauté pan. When it is very hot, add the cubed bread and a clove of peeled, smashed garlic. Toss gently to coat bread with oil and cook until brown and crispy. The oil will be all absorbed. Salt generously, remove from pan and cool on a paper towel. Discard garlic.

Sugar High Friday: Tonka Bean Spiced Apple-Raspberry Cake

If you've ever had an apple cake, you'll probably agree that it just might be the second-most comforting, soul-satisfying cake out there. (Obviously chocolate cake takes first place, right?)
It works with tea or coffee, brunch or dessert, and can be dressed up or down, depending on the occasion. Apple cake stands alone; it requires nothing save perhaps a dusting of powdered sugar to spiffy it up, and doesn't rely on filling and frosting to meet its full potential.


Back in March when I was recovering at home from the birth of my second son, Mateo, my good friend and neighbor, Linda, brought over a box of home cooked food. There were at least three meals worth of hot dinners, warm artichoke dip with pita, a salad and her famous apple cake.
After the hospital food (which I barely survived), her cake tasted like the best thing I had ever eaten. I'll never forget standing in my kitchen with Danny, eating it from the pan and just looking at each other saying, "Everything is going to be OK now. We have this cake."
We could have brought home triplets, and I would have felt equipped.

There's a lot to be said for the benefits of good, home cooked food when you are emotionally and physically low on reserves. Remember that the next time a friend has a baby or an operation or something. Sure flowers or another baby blanket is a nice gesture, but how about a crock pot of Beef Bourguignon...and an apple cake.


I called Linda up a few months later and requested the recipe. She laughed and said it was a 'very popular' recipe and got a lot of reactions. I understood why.
Thanks Linda!

OK, so of course I changed a few things, but not much.
My raspberry bush was still yielding fruit when I made this cake, so I tossed in a few handfuls between the layers of batter along with the apples. The recipe originally called for a dusting of cinnamon at this point, but I reached for my microplane and grated Tonka bean over the fruit. You should always use a light hand when working with Tonka bean as ingesting too much of it can be a health hazard.



Tonka-Bean Spiced Apple-Raspberry Cake
(don't sweat it if you don't have tonka bean, just use a teaspoon of cinnamon instead)

1 cup sugar
3 eggs, room temperature
2/3 cup oil
3/4 teaspoon almond extract
1 ½ cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
2 medium apples, peeled, cored and sliced thinly
3/4 cup fresh raspberries
1/4 tonka bean, grated superfine

Preheat oven to 350F. Butter an 8 inch round cake tin and line with parchment. Beat eggs and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in oil and almond extract. Sift together flour, baking powder and salt. Fold into egg mixture. Spread half of cake batter in tin. Cover with sliced apples and raspberries and sprinkle with tonka bean. Cover apples with the rest of the batter and bake for about 45 minutes.

This is my entry for October's Sugar High Friday event hosted by Anita over at Dessert First. Anita chose spices as her theme for this event and I originally didn't have anything to submit, but when I took my first bit of this cake and the tonka bean quietly, yet masterfully, stole the show away from the fruit, I knew I had nailed it!
And my love affair with the tonka bean continues...

Check out Anita's blog on October 31 for the entire SHF roundup.

Thanksgiving Part 3: Dessert

Why is pie synonymous with Thanksgiving? I have yet to make that connection, but I've eaten pie every mid-October for as long as I can remember and I'm mighty thankful for that.
Perhaps it is because the holiday falls right in the middle of apple and pumpkin season and who wants to be baking anything else than gorgeous pies with that fresh, affordable produce?

This has been the most beautiful autumn I can remember. The weekends have been sunny and warm and we've been lucky enough to get out and do plenty of our favorite fall activities such as apple picking (twice!), pumpkin harvesting and getting lost in a corn labyrinth.


I made a lot of pies as a kid. My siblings and I would earn spare cash over the summer by holding a stall at the local farmers market. My mother would sell her bedding plants--fragrant herbs, perky tomatoes and broad-leafed cucumbers; my brother usually had to find a home for a litter of bunnies or young goat, but my older sister and I baked. Apple, strawberry and rhubarb pies, butter tarts, cinnamon buns, bagels and anything else we figured would sell. Those were some lucky customers we supplied; boy we should have charged double!

Those pie-making skills certainly rubbed off on my youngest sister, who brought this towering Spiced Apple Streusel Pie to our Thanksgiving dinner. While Miranda's true passion is for animals and animal care, she also knows her way around the kitchen, as this gravity-defying deep dish pie demonstrated. I mean, just look at those apples, they are stacked four high! No slouchy sunken apple pie for her.

I knew you had to have this recipe. I've already made it again since Thanksgiving and it's only been a week!

Spiced Streusel Apple Pie

for streusel topping:
2/3 cup pecans
1/2 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
1/4 cup granola
1/4 cup all purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
5 tablespoons chilled unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

for filling: 2 1/4 pounds Granny Smith apples (about 6 medium), peeled, quartered, cored, cut into 1/2-inch-thick wedges
1/2 cup sour cream
1/4 cup sugar
2 tablespoons all purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
3/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1 Flaky Pie Crust, prepared and chilled

Preparation
For streusel: Combine pecans, brown sugar, granola, flour, cinnamon and nutmeg in processor. Using on/off turns, process until nuts are finely chopped. Add butter and process until small moist clumps form. (Can be prepared 1 day ahead. Cover and refrigerate.)

For filling: Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 375°F. Toss apples with sour cream in large bowl to coat. Mix sugar, flour, cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves in small bowl. Sprinkle mixture over apples and toss to coat. Transfer filling to prepared crust. Sprinkle streusel over apples, covering completely. Bake pie until apples are tender and streusel is golden, tenting pie with foil if streusel browns too quickly, about 1 hour. Transfer pie to wire rack and cool slightly. Serve pie slightly warm or at room temperature.


Keeping things seasonal, my awesome sister-in-law, Melanie, seduced us all with the other dessert of the night: Pumpkin Bread Pudding with Toffee Sauce.


I swear, we had this bread pudding and the apple pie keeping warm in the oven while we digested our dinner, and when I opened the oven door to take a peek it smelt so good my knees nearly buckled. The combination of apple and pumpkin with all the spices was just too good to be true. If only there was a scented candle that smelled so sweet!

Last fall I created the memorable Pumpkin Spice Bread Pudding with Rummy Raisins and Mel's version only confirmed that I love, love bread pudding. It's a great do-ahead dessert, the flavors only improve over time, and it's actually a brilliant dessert to bring to a pot-luck--nothing is going so squish, spill or crack.
I had suggested we whip some cream to top of both the pie and the pudding, but that was deemed to be 'overdoing it' and the idea was shot down. (I know, I know, who runs the kitchen anyway, right?)
However, it turns out the toffee sauce was really all I needed, and no one noticed that I splashed a little onto my pie as well.

Pumpkin Bread Pudding with Toffee Sauce

Bread:
5 cups cubed day-old bread, (crusts left on or removed)
1/2 cup golden raisins

Custard:
2 large eggs plus 1 large egg yolk
3/4 cup canned pure pumpkin (no spices added)
1 1/2 cups half & half, milk, light cream or a combination thereof
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled
1/2 cup light brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon salt

Toffee Sauce:
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1/4 cup heavy whipping cream
1/4 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 350°F and place rack in the center of the oven. You will need an 8 inch square baking dish.

Custard: In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, pumpkin, half and half, melted butter, sugar, vanilla, spices and salt. Add the bread cubes and raisins and toss to coat, making sure all the bread cubes are coated with the custard.

Transfer the bread pudding to the ungreased pan and bake for about 25 mins or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Remove the bread pudding from the oven and place on a wire rack to cool slightly.
Served warm with toffee sauce.

Toffee Sauce:
Place the butter, sugar, and cream in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Boil for about 3 minutes then remove from heat and stir in the vanilla extract. You can make this sauce in advance and simply reheat.
Makes an 8x8 inch bread pudding (serves 6 people)


I hope you've gotten some inspiration from this little Thanksgiving series. It's been fun!

Missed the rest of the meal?
Thanksgiving Part 1: Turkey & Co

Thanksgiving Part 2: Side Dishes

An Afternoon Outing and The Best Autumn Sandwich

Our annual apple picking outing is always more than a trip down memory lane (we pick apples in the same orchard where we were married) and buying bushels of apple for canning, but usually evolves into a gastronomical tour of the region as well.
We munch on wedges of local aged cheddar with our Mac's, scarf warm apple-custard tart straight from the pie pan and sample maple taffy. Along Mont Saint-Hilaire's Chemin de la Montagne (Mountain Road) apple growers are selling the best their orchards have to offer and at some places, that includes some pretty amazing organic ice cider. Yum!
We usually pick our apples and then sprawl out on the grass for a picnic lunch, but last Saturday the bitter winds blew us out of the orchard and back into the car where we headed for one of our favorite bakeries just down the road, La Femme et Le Boulanger.


Our pockets and bags bulging with crisp cold apples and various delicacies we had already picked up, we snagged a little table by the window and surveyed the tantalizing baked goods. It was hard to choose, but we selected several croissants for our sandwiches, rum & coffee cannelés for dessert and a bacon baguette to have with our poached eggs for Sunday breakfast. (If you've never tried a toasted bacon baguette with a poached egg on top, you haven't lived, my friends)
I sliced some three year cheddar, cracked open a jar of confit d'onion, both purchased from La Vieille Cave, and with some slices of our Macintosh's and the fresh croissants, constructed the best sandwich I have had since my pulled pork party.

Seriously, the tart apple paired with the strong cheese and the sweet onion jam was just fabulous packed between flaky croissants. With a hot latte to wrap our chilled fingers around and a bottle of fresh squeezed apple cider, we were in heaven.

So by now you are probably wondering-where are all the recipes?

Yeah, I know, it's been a while; I've been giving you interviews, garden updates, and oatmeal, for pete's sake, and now a sandwich??
Hang in there, there's tons of good food coming, I promise. In the meantime, why don't you head over to the Blogger's Choice Awards and vote for me. Much appreciated and good luck to all the nominees!

Since I'm already on a rambling streak, allow me to get sidetracked for another minute with this sequence of photos from Noah's apple picking experience...

Boy spies apple

Boy picks apple

Boy eats apple

Boy contemplates the meaning of life.

Warm Gingerbread with Cortland Applesauce and Cream

The annoying thing about living in a post-renovated home is that you can never find anything. It's not like after a move where you know you'll eventually unpack a box and find what it is you are looking for; it is much more uncertain than that. In the pre-renovation haste, I was just stashing stuff anywhere and everywhere and now I am suffering the consequences.
Please, if anyone finds my Diana Krall Christmas CD, hand it over. I'd like to be listening to it since we seem to be hurling toward Christmas at a breakneck pace.

I always associate this gingerbread recipe with Christmas, although I am not sure why. I can't for the life of me remember any particular incident that would connect the two together, yet, when I dusted off my Kitchen Aid and started mixing, I said to myself "I guess I'm starting my holiday baking".

I hope I am not the only person who starts baking a good month early. I tell myself that with a enthusiastic toddler to keep my busy and a baby on the way, I have to be organized and I am--in the kitchen anyway. As for the rest of the house? Forget it!
Where IS that dang CD?


Merci to my MIL for this recipe. I believe she got it from her mother and although we know it is called 'Prize Gingerbread', we have no insight into just what kind of prize this cake earned...
I think as far as gingerbread goes, this one is about as good as they get. Moist, flavorful, fragrant, and a lovely dark color from a whole cup of molasses.
Cortland apples are hard to pass up in the market these days, with their blushing bride coloring and sweet fragrance. They make the most delicate-of-pink applesauce that is a must with this gingerbread; however, if you don't have any apples, a drizzle of lemon icing would be delightful too, and whipped cream is essential.
There you have it! Your dessert for the week.

Prize Gingerbread

2 ½ cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon ground ginger
½ cup shortening
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup molasses
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon nutmeg
½ teaspoon cinnamon
1 cup boiling water
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 eggs, well beaten

Preheat oven to 325F

Butter a 9x13 cake pan or two loaf pans and line with parchment paper. Butter the parchment.

Combine flour, baking powder, and ginger together and set aside.

Cream shortening and brown sugar until fluffy, then add molasses, salt, nutmeg, and cinnamon. Mix well. Add baking soda to boiling water and mix into molasses mixture. Fold in reserved flour mixture and combine. Add beaten eggs and mix well.

Pour into pan(s) and bake about 50 minutes or until a cake tester comes out clean. Serve warm.