Columnists

With Easter coming up, many people will be glazing hams, poaching salmon and roasting turkeys for their Easter Feasters. At my house, we’ll be eating rabbit. I’m certainly not too old to enjoy a good piece of Easter chocolate, but I’m definitely past crawling around on the floor looking for hidden chocolate bunnies that taste more like waxen sugar than chocolate. (Besides, I invariably find dust bunnies, too, and that causes me to clean instead of holiday).

While I might sound macabre, you should know that eating rabbit is trending up. I was surprised to read in Kim Seversen’s recent New York Times article that rabbit has been a difficult sell in New York restaurants. In 1996 when my husband and his partner opened Pangaea, ballotine of rabbit was on the menu and sold as well then as it does today.

With rabbit becoming more popular at restaurants, more people are cooking it at home, too. I’ve seen it in every major grocery store lately sold skinned, cleaned and whole. Although many people compare rabbit to chicken, it has its own challenges in the kitchen.

1. Boning rabbit is difficult since its skeletal structure changes at the midway point of the spine. The spine at the back half of the rabbit has five points, like a star, and the knife must navigate around each of these points. It’s a bit finicky so ask the butcher if he’ll bone it for you if you need a boneless piece of meat for your recipe.

2. Cook rabbit until the internal temperature reaches 160ºF on an instant read thermometer.

3. In my area, most rabbits sold are young, small and tender. You can easily identify them by their nice pink skin and small size; they’re usually less than 3 lbs (1.5 kg). Older rabbits have darker meat and are larger and a little tougher so they’re ideal for braising.

Looking for an easy beginner rabbit recipe? This one is easy and delicious. I like to serve it with polenta!

Rabbit Cacciatore

2 tbsp (30 mL) all-purpose flour
1 tsp (5 mL) each salt and pepper
1 young rabbit, cut into pieces
3 tbsp (45 mL) vegetable oil
1/2 cup (125 mL) red wine or low sodium chicken broth
1 large onion, sliced
11/2 tsp (7 mL) each dried thyme and oregano leaves
1 bay leaf
2 cups (500 mL) sliced mushrooms, about 4 oz/125 g
1 can (28 oz/796 mL) diced tomatoes
3 tbsp (45 mL) tomato paste
4 tsp ( 20 mL) balsamic vinegar
1 green pepper, cored and chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced

Blend the flour with the salt and pepper. Coat the rabbit evenly in this mixture. Heat half the oil in a deep skillet or Dutch oven set over medium-high heat. Brown the rabbit all over, working in batches. Transfer browned pieces to a bowl.

Stir the wine into the pan and bring to a boil. Stir to scrape up the cooked on bits. When the wine is reduced by half, add the remaining oil and reduce the heat to medium. Add the onion, thyme and oregano. Cook, stirring often, for 5 minutes. Add the mushrooms and cook for 5 minutes longer. Add a small amount of the diced tomatoes to scrape up all the cooked on bits. Then add the remaining diced tomatoes, tomato paste, vinegar, green pepper, and garlic.

Bring the mixture to a boil, stirring often with a wooden spoon. Nestle the browned rabbit pieces into the tomato mixture and reduce heat to low. Simmer, stirring and turning the meat occasionally, for 30 to 45 minutes or until rabbit is cooked through and juices are thickened. Makes 4 servings. (Recipe doubles easily.)

I could live, quite easily, without caviar.  I do like the flying fish roe caviar that sushi restaurants use in California rolls and I can enjoy a few stray caviar eggs on top of hors d’eouvres where they add saltiness. But I’ll never be a high-volume consumer.

My husband Martin is a fan of the good stuff; inky black and as shiny as a puddle of motor oil. Using a dainty little pearl spoon, he can eat a whole can by himself.

I’m guessing that people like Martin are the target market for a new product created by Petrossian, the caviar Mecca near Central Park in Manhattan. They’ve created pressed caviar cubes that look a lot like lacquered sugar cubes. Sold in olive oil, they cost about $2.50 each (you get 18 or so in a $45 bottle).

Apparently, the flavour is stronger than regular caviar which makes me 100 per cent sure that I won’t like it. The website recommends these cubes as an ingredient for pasta or as a canape.

What about you?  Are you intrigued by caviar cubes?  If not, why not?  Are you like me and just not that into caviar? Or are you too much of a purist to waiver from the classic whole eggs? And if you were going to pay $2.50 for a one-bite treat, what would it be? My choice would be chocolate! Preferably a chocolate-coated candied orange wedge from Teuscher.

Photo credit

When I was in chef school I wrote an essay about toast and my long history as a lover of that 1 ingredient recipe. At the time I was rather proud of my work; in fact, writing that piece and getting recognition for it with a high grade is partly what gave me the confidence to become a food writer in the first place. (I wish I had a copy of it now so that I could go back and see what my writing was really like. I’m sure I’d tear my copy to shreds now!)

So, in honour of the food that helped me define my career path, today – National Toast Day – I pay homage to toast and encourage you to visit this website and sponsor a piece of toast. Your time will result in Gay Lea foods donating a tub of Spreadables to the Daily Bread Food Bank.

But, before you go, tell me how you feel about toast and what you like on your slice. And, do you butter your toast when it’s hot or when it’s cold? I like a piece of whole grain toast, slathered with salted butter and then spread sparingly with raspberry jam, grape jelly or marmalade. Cinnamon toast holds a special place in my heart as well but I like to make it using challah or white bread. Regardless of which of these toasty treats I indulge in, I have to butter and spread my toast when it’s hot. I can eat it cold but it has to be prepared hot. For this reason I find toast in hotels and restaurants completely unsatisfying.

According to an Ipsos Reid and Dietitians of Canada survey, which polled 2201 Canadians, local food preferences vary across the country.

British Columbia: fresh vegetables
Alberta: beef
Saskatchewan & Manitoba: corn
Ontario: apples
Quebec: cheese
Atlantic Region: lobster

Although I’m an Ontarian and do like apples, for me Niagara peaches are the local food that makes me weak in the knees. Ditto for wonderful Fifth Town and Monforte cheeses. What local food do you love most?

While reading the comments on Monday’s post I was reminded of a rack of bracelets I saw at the Art Gallery of Ontario that were made from cutlery bent and embellished to become cuff bracelets. Wondering what else you could do with a fork or a spoon, I decided to do a google search and see what interesting cutlery crafts I could find. Turns out there’s a smorgasbord of choice!

Jewelry –bracelets, necklaces, rings:
o Spoon ring
o Fork necklace
o Linked spoon bracelet (pictured above)
o Elegant fork bracelet

Artistic Inspirations:
• Fine art
• Weather vanes

Household items:
• Furniture
• Wall hooks and more
• Wind chimes

Seen any other interesting items that started out as a part of a place setting? If so, share them in the comments section.

While whoopie pies are not just trending up in the US but also glamming up, here in central Canada when I mention these sweet treats I’m more likely to get a blank stare or quizzical look than a request for cookies.

Whoopie pies are not a big part of the Canadian dessert experience and although I see them being mentioned and offered a little more often now than I did a year or two ago, cupcakes or macarons are certainly both more popular here.

So for my curious readers who want to be on the advancing curve, here’s a bit of info about this emerging dessert trend. (Interestingly, whoopie pies are not included in the Food Lover’s Companion. This is the second time I’ve found this trusted source lacking in less than a month and, quite frankly, my world is shaken.)

What is a whoopie pie? Not a pie at all, whoopie pies are made by sandwiching two cakey textured cookies around a frosting layer. Seven minute style frostings are often the base of the filling but so is marshmallow fluff enriched with shortening (no, really!). While I can’t prove, it, I’d say the Jos Louis was inspired by the whoopie pie.

Where did this idea come from? According to Wikipedia, whoopie pies have their origins in Pennsylvania’s Amish baking traditions. Apparently, they became wildly popular in Maine after a recipe for them appeared in a 1930’s cookbook called the Yummy Book.

What about recipes?
• Yummy Book Classic
• Buttermilk Whoopie Pies (pictured above)
• Pumpkin Whoopie Pies

So, let’s be honest. Are you a whoopie pie virgin?  You can tell me. It’s okay. I’ve only done the whoopie pie thing once myself. I won’t judge you.

Photo credit: Fort Collins Brewery

Beer and chocolate is not a combination that naturally appeals to me. For instance, while I’ve craved other drinks while eating chocolate (milk, coffee, even tea) I’ve never hankered for a brewski when I was indulging my chocolate craving.

Despite my own lack of imagination, others have sussed out a hidden connection and turned it into a combination that is becoming more popular – especially as St. Patrick’s Day beckons. While I can’t be sure exactly who had that first ‘aha’ moment that saw chocolate paired with stout, the first time I recall seeing it was in David Lebovitz’s book the Perfect Scoop where he presented a Guinness- Milk chocolate ice cream.

Now, this spring, the combo seems to be everywhere I turn:

• First I encountered it at my husband’s restaurant Pangaea where it takes the form of a decadent chocolate-stout bar garnish for chocolate soufflé (cause chocolate souffle needs more chocolate, right?)
• Next I saw this flavour trend as a chocolate cake (with cherries) in the February Sainsbury’s magazine
• Then, I heard via @spotlightcity on Twitter that Chocolate Barr in Stratford is making chocolate-stout truffles in honour of St. Patrick’s Day.
• Lastly, this luscious picture of Guinness brownies I saw late last week left me in a swoon.

Obviously, this flavour duo is gaining traction. What do you think? Is this an intriguing or inconceivable combination? And, if you like the idea of stout with chocolate, what recipes would you like to find? Milkshakes seem like a given place to showcase these flavours to me so if you find a recipe for a chocolatey stout shake, send it my way!

As more people use the internet, iphones and other electronics to source recipes and tips while they cook, kitchen designers are finding ways to integrate electronics into our homes in ways that make them easy and safe to use.

I’m still in the dark ages when it comes to using electronics in my kitchen: if I find a recipe online that I want to make, I usually print it out and work from a paper copy. Occasionally I’ve used my laptop or my iphone but I feel too nervous about spills and goo clogging up my computer to do that more often.

Recently I’ve heard and seen some good ideas for making computers and electronics easier to use in the kitchen. From glassed-in counter top displays that allow you to see your computer screen with no risk of damage to touch screen systems like the Yummy to table top gadgets like this little holder that keeps your iphone elevated off the counter top in a position that is easy to read while cooking.

Do you keep computers and phones far away from cooking? Or are you cooking from a computer or phone screen and saving the trees that people like me routinely kill with all this printing?

I was surprised the other day when a couple of savvy journalists I know hadn’t heard of Community Supported Agriculture (CSA). Granted, their beat is design and not food, but I thought that CSAs were becoming rather well known in cities like Toronto.

So, today, I give you some weekend homework: if you haven’t heard of CSAs please read on. If you have and can recommend a good one or offer tips to the uninitiated, please add a note in the comments section below.

What is a CSA? Originating in Europe about 90 years ago, CSAs offer a way to support local farmers and enjoy a ready supply of farm fresh foods. In other words, subscribing to a CSA gives you the benefits of a garden without having to get your hands dirty (think of the money you’ll save on manicures!)

How do CSAs work? To get involved, you need to find a participating farmer in your area and sign up for a produce subscription. In turn for supplying money up front in spring, you receive a weekly allotment of the farm’s harvest all summer and into early autumn. Finding a local CSA is becoming easier – especially in provinces like Ontario, Alberta and British Columbia and states like New York and California. Most areas have an online directory and many growers with farmers’ market stalls participate in these programs as well.

Are CSA’s just about vegetables? Nope. While many CSA subscriptions are for market produce (such as lettuce, tomatoes and carrots), artisans like Monforte Cheese in Stratford, ON use this system, too. “We launched a CSA program in February 2009,” notes Monforte spokesperson Maureen Argon. “People have purchased our CSAs as birthday presents, wedding presents and one man bought a $500 subscription for his parents 45th wedding anniversary.”

I’m curious, what appeals to you more: growing your own veggies, going to the farmers’ market or subscribing to a CSA? Personally, I’m keen on growing my own garden and going to the farmers’ market. I’m toying with signing up for a CSA, too though. It’s just a question of how much produce I can handle!

I went for acupuncture once. I didn’t like it; the room was cold and I just wanted to put on a sweater but, since my back was peppered with needles, I had to lie there and shiver. I suppose it would be different if I were a cold-blooded fish… which brings me to today’s topic: Fish acupuncture or, as it’s called in Japanese, kaimin katsugyo, is an acupuncture-style technique that helps sushi chefs serve the freshest fish possible even if their kitchen is located as far inland as Montreal or Chicago.

Here’s how it works. Needles are inserted into live fish to render them paralyzed and senseless. Sarah Staples explains the process in a recent Globe and Mail article:

“An acupunctured fish first falls into a sort of coma: It is brain-dead but can breathe weakly, and its central nervous functions continue during most of the overnight flight to Canada.

The fish dies in transit after about 12 hours, as oxygen reserves supplied by a saltwater-soaked padded envelope are depleted. But for several hours more, its flesh behaves as if it were still alive, the company says. In essence, the fish has become a zombie, existing in a twilight state between life and death, its normal processes of cellular decomposition arrested by those strategic pinpricks.”

If I’d read this story on April 1st or in a less reputable publication, I’d think I was being put on. I guess I grew up hearing too many horror stories about nasty people putting needles into Halloween candy, cause it just seems weird to me to put needles into food. What do you think? Is this freshness innovation weird and unnecessary or wonderfully clever?