simple pleasure

Sometimes the simplest things in life can give the greatest pleasure.

Growing up, the chances that I’d have a cheeseburger or a pair of chopsticks in my hands were about the same. As a kid of course McDonald’s playland was always a big destination, but, for me, it was always about getting my hands on a burger and fries. (Although sitting on a springy bouncing Fry Kid in the Playland had it’s moments)

I rebember beistifling for breakfast there, looking up at sign and pointing at what I wanted.

It was smiles. And it was free.

I have to say, I’ll take a juicy cheeseburger over a bowl of rice (with some notable exceptions).

piri piri chipotle burger

Makes 6 burgers

ingredients:
500g ground chuck
500g ground sirloin
4 dashes big worschtershire sauce
3 chopped chipotles
3 tsp adobo sauce
3 tbls piri piri
2-3 cloves of garlic, finely minced
2 tsp salt
2 tsp black pepper
(all seasonings approximate!)

toppings:
some decent buns, I prefer sesame seeded ones (6)
sliced cheddar
bacon, thick sliced, cooked (12)
lettuce
onions
tomatoes
mayo/relish/ketchup mix etc..

Not a lot of directions. Mix all burger ingredients together and divide into 6. Form mixture in your hands, forming gently into patties.

Press a small divot in the centre of each patty to allow the meat to stay level when cooked.

Sear or grill on one side, flip, and sear or grill until medium-rare to medium. Ttop with sliced cheese 2min before done.

Top with bacon and your favourite fixings.

scent of a woman

Morning.

Early morning.

The house is quiet.

I rub the sleep from my eyes and hit the ground running.

The sun is blaring through the white and green paisely covered picture window.

A gnarly *thunk* goes the ancient 13 channel tube lurching to a phosphorent blaring life, more than ready to burn its blurry images into young eyes.

Lost in that heady mix of sugar powered cartoons, poorly written and acted voices, and classic coyote fare, one smell eventually fills the air.

A combination of Maxwell House coffee, Coffee Mate, and toasting bread.

My grandmother is up and making herself breakfast, but I’m too lost in my own world of sugar frosted commercials and mutant turtles to take much notice. That same smell every morning before she tends to all of her chores.

They say the sense of smell is one of the most powerful memory triggers.

I believe it.

My grandmother is long gone now, but I will always remember that smell, and I can still picture her at our table, her mug of coffee, a slice of buttered toasted bread, maybe with a slice of ham, and always folded in half so she could dip into her coffee. Sometimes she’d also have a soft boiled egg, and more times than naught, I’d have one too.

While I don’t drink Maxwell house coffee, nor do I use Coffee Mate, I do love coffee, hot buttered toast, and soft boiled eggs sprinkled with salt. I don’t think anyone needs a recipe for that, but I do have another favourite eggs recipe (taken from Gordon Ramsay’s ’sublime scrambled eggs’ recipe):

Scrambled Eggs

2 large eggs (organic please)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1/2 tablespoon crème fraîche or sour cream
fresh dill or chives, finely chopped
salt, pepper

Break eggs into a cold pan, add butter, and place over medium-low heat.

Whisk. Off heat. Whisk. On Heat. Whisk. Repeat ad nauseam until they become creamy and start to solidify.

Stir in crème fraîche.

Add dill or chives and season with salt and pepper.

Serve with coffee, and a slice of hot buttered toast, and early morning cartoons.

getting sticky

That ubiquitous bright bleeding red colour. That sickening cloying sweetness. The gelatinous glossy goo that sits in the bowl, ready to be scooped out onto to unsuspecting plates.

Every bite leaving that cloying saccharine film in your mouth.

Cranberry sauce.

That condiment that always gets served with turkey dinners. That condiment that you always end up having piles of left over that gets scraped into the bin.

The best part of it has been the ironic laughter if you dump it out of a can and the jelly still has the ridges from the can.

This year, under the influence of Elle, I decided to find and make cranberry sauce worth making.

I ended up with this:

Cranberry Sauce with Port and Cinnamon

* 1 cup ruby Port
* 3 cinnamon sticks, broken in half
* 1 cup dried cranberries (about 6 ounces)
* 1 12-ounce bag fresh cranberries
* 3/4 cup water
* 1/4 cup sugar (or less)
* Fresh Rosemary sprig
* Orange zest

Bring ruby Port and broken cinnamon sticks to boil in heavy medium saucepan. Reduce heat to medium and simmer mixture 5 minutes.

Add dried cranberries to saucepan; simmer until slightly softened, about 3 minutes. Add fresh cranberries, 3/4 cup water, and sugar; bring to boil, stirring until sugar dissolves. Reduce heat to medium-low; add rosemary; cover and simmer until cranberry sauce thickens and is darker in color and berries collapse, stirring often, about 20 minutes. Transfer sauce to bowl; cool; add orange zest. Discard cinnamon sticks.

DO AHEAD: Can be made 3 days ahead. Cover and chill. Bring to room temperature before serving.

Modified from an Epicurious recipe

The result?

Pretty spectacular actually. The cinnamon and the rosemary really perfume the sauce. The dried cranberries give the sauce a bit of fruity texture.  It wasn’t too sweet or cloying.  I was really impressed, and I don’t even like Cranberry Sauce.

(Thank you to Elle for the inspiration, even if I didn’t get any pine nuts)

morning nectar

The need. The craving. The wanting.

The soft inviting gurgle draws you in. The smell wafts across the room and permeates everything and invites you to come even closer.

As each hot drip splashes down you can feel yourself getting anxious. You can feel yourself becoming impatient.

Your anticipation rises when you finally reach in. That sound it makes as you pour, the glossy perfect shimmer as you look down. Seems like nothing else in this world.

The culmination of all your effort, all your waiting, all if your senses collide in that last moment when you finally bring it to your lips and taste.

The perfect cup of coffee in the morning.

People seem to be writing a lot about coffee lately (especially this morning). About it’s health properties, how much is too much, is fair trade really fair and whatnot.

Sometimes things can just be over analyzed. Sometimes things simply need to be enjoyed.

In fact, I think I will go enjoy another cup right now.

the pursuit

What is it about bread that is so irresistible to the senses? A warm crusty loaf soaked and dripping from grassy, sweet, pungent olive oil and basamic. Still carrying that lingering scent of the oven.

The crunch when your teeth breaks through the crust into the soft warm inner crumb. The creamy combination of butter and bread that spreads across your palate as you chew each bite.

The tang of fresh sour dough. The hearty texture of a rye. The perfect crisp crust of a baguette. That heel of bread soaking up the last drops from your plate as you swirl it around finishing a perfect meal.

Which leads me to one simple goal. One simple mission.

Learn to make bread.

And to make it well.

sunday service

I’m laying in bed still thinking about posting about Sunday night.

After finally crawling out of bed Sunday afternoon, and finally making outside, I was greeted by the perfect fall day.

Crisp.

Bright.

Beautiful.

The air was ripe of autumn. The sky blazed blue. The wind had finally died down. Everyone was out and about like proverbial ants, running around doing their Sunday chores before winter came and be damned the days of the grasshopper.

The plan was to get everything I needed for Stout Braised Short Ribs.

I made my way to the local grocery mini-mega-mart. It takes talent to always be out of something that I need.

After getting through that mess, I made my way to my other local grocery mega-mart and picked up the rest of my provisions and I realized I was dead famished.

A little 12.5oz “small” burrito from the burrito joint and to home I went with my booty and to scarf down my pulled pork burrito.

The ribs:

The rib recipe turned out to be pretty easy. A lot of prep work with chopping and rubbing the ribs with the spice rub.

Let them marinate for an hour before browning.

You do have to be very careful with browning the ribs in the pan due to the high sugar content of the rub. The end product ended up being very food. Cutting it with a bit of honey would have rounded everything out nicely. I used St Ambroise Oatmeal stout from McAuslan, and I imagine Guinness would have been even more bitter.

Served over a big pile of colcannon with some crusty bread.

Absolutely perfect on a cool autumn night.

the first time

It’s always intimidating your first time.

The sweating.

The excitement.

The shaking.

The anticipation.

Before you even get warmed up it’s over and you’ve posted your first blog.

Not even any tears either.