Real Men Don’t Eat Quiche

100_3267 copyWhen the book Real Men Don’t Eat Quiche came out in the early ‘80s, many of us had a laugh about the gender stereotypes portrayed in the book. Unfortunately, the satire was lost on some of my acquaintances, who truly believed that to eat quiche (or to try any foods with foreign-sounding names for that matter) was to lose their masculinity.

They were, of course, way off base, but I understand the importance of food to our identity. “You are what you eat,” after all. Foods can be tribal affiliations—Coke vs. Pepsi, vegans vs. meat eaters, carbs vs. protein.

Even if we eat the same things, the vocabulary of food defines and divides us. Soda or pop? Hoagie or sub? Chips or fries? Biscuits or cookies? Casserole or hot dish? Brownies or bars?

But for the adventuresome, those differences quickly resolve into similarities. Cook enough different foods, and the divisions become connections.

Take quiche lorraine, for example. It is just the French version of the English bacon and egg pie. The variations within “quiche” and “pie” are greater than the differences between them.

A gallette is just a tart with a French accent.

Mexican tortillas are almost the same as Indian roti.

Greek pita bread could be mistaken for Indian naan.

French ragout, Indian curry, and Latin American sancocho are all just stew by a different name.

Sweet, sour, bitter, salt, umame. Starch, sugar, protein. It all comes down to biology, and we all need the same nutrients to keep us going. The protein in my burgers may come from soybeans, and yours from beef, but we both love that slab of umame-rich protein on a nest of carbohydrates (a bun, some rice, some bulgher) and dripping with sweet/sour catsup (or ketchup, or sauce…).

The spicing may differ, but the essence is the same. Just like us. We are what we eat, after all.

Favourite Kitchen Tools: wooden spoons

Lia's spoonsmWe have a good half dozen wooden spoons sitting in the crock on the kitchen counter. They are some of the most heavily used tools in the kitchen, and the first thing I reach for whether I’m stirring pasta, potato soup, or sizzling onions.

The very best spoon is the one my daughter carved for me. Its smooth finish, beautifully rounded bowl, and attractive handle speak to her perseverance and attention to detail. It is a lovely, functional piece of art, and it makes me smile every time I use it. Can’t ask more of a spoon!

First Frost

DSC_0006 copyThe grass sparkled in the beam from my headlamp this morning and crunched underfoot—our long-overdue first frost. After such a hot summer, we should have expected a warm autumn, but I was beginning to wonder if it would ever frost; it usually occurs near the end of April.

Of course, even without a frost it’s been too cool for the summer crops outside the greenhouse; they gave up weeks ago. So we’ve been eating as though it has already frosted, but there’s something decisive about the first frost.

First frost gives me permission to haul out the sewing machine after a summer’s interruption to crafts. It encourages me to pull out a good book. It gives me leave to contemplate steaming pots of soup and chunky vegetable stews for dinner. It is a milestone in the year. A time for taking stock, reflecting on the summer’s crops, and enjoying a brief break from most garden chores. Though the garden looks wasted and sad after the first frost, it is a time to savour, like every other event and milestone in the garden year.

I “Heart” Biscuits

100_3226 copySunday breakfast was biscuits (or, as I have to say to my Kiwi kids, American biscuits, lest they thing we’re having cookies). I sometimes forget about biscuits–generally only making them when there are no eggs in the house—but they make such a lovely breakfast, slathered with homemade jam! Make enough, and they’re equally good at lunchtime with cheese and mustard.

For some forgotten reason, I always make my biscuits heart shaped. The crispy pointy end is absolutely the best part!

Buried Treasure

brandiedcherriesonwindowsillcropLong about now, the summer bounty is over, the winter crops aren’t yet producing, and we start eating the foods we preserved over summer.

Long about now, we remember the brandied cherries.

We don’t make many (we don’t eat many)—one pint jar full. On top of a scoop of vanilla ice cream, accompanying a chocolate brownie, or all on their own, they are a decadent treat. Like much of the summer bounty stored up, they feel like buried treasure when we remember them on a cold, rainy day.

Blue Cheese

IMG_2297 copyThough it is sad when the last of the season’s goat cheese is gone, I do enjoy the excuse to buy cheeses I don’t make myself.

Blue cheese is one of these. I’ve heard enough horror stories about making blue cheese (“Once you’ve made blue cheese, all your cheeses end up blue”) that I’m reluctant to try it. Besides, there are plenty of moderately priced, locally produced blues available.

My family can polish off a generous wedge of blue at lunch, and much of the blue cheese we consume is eaten simply on bread or crackers.

If I can hide it until dinner, though, I love blue cheese in a salad with pears and walnuts. The combination of bitter greens, sweet fruit, and sharp salty cheese hits all the right buttons. We usually top it with a bit of vinaigrette, but this time we simply drizzled some pomegranate syrup over it. Divine!

 

Favourite Kitchen Tools: cast iron skillets

100_3215 copyTime for another tribute to one of my favourite kitchen tools. We have three cast iron frying pans. As I recall, two were garage sale finds and one was a wedding present. At least one of them gets used nearly every day.

I love the cast iron pans for their weight. Though it can take several minutes to heat them up, once they’re warm, they cook gently and evenly, without a searing hot spot in the middle and cold edges. I also love the pans for their ability to go from stovetop to oven—gravies and béchamel sauces made in a cast iron skillet can easily be popped into a warm oven to finish cooking, as can frittata.

I always make cornbread in a cast iron skillet—heating the skillet on the stove before pouring in the batter gives the finished bread wonderful crispy edges! And, of course, making flatbreads of any kind in cast iron is a pleasure—its mass allows it to quickly but gently bake a bread.

And it’s always nice to know I’ve got a handy weapon in the kitchen, you know…just in case Sauruman or Shelob shows up at the door (after all, we do live in Middle Earth…;) )

Food Therapy

Peanut butter and Jam--mood enhancing drugs.

Peanut butter and Jam–mood enhancing drugs.

My latest novel, The Anti-Mage, virtually wrote itself. Vastly better than previous novels, this book is saleable, I’m sure.

As the rejections pile up, though, I begin to doubt. I doubt the book’s merits, my wisdom in making this leap of faith to writing, and my fundamental value as a human being. Did I make a huge mistake in shutting down my science outreach business in order to write? Have I made myself nothing more than a chauffeur, gardener and cook for my family? Have I fallen into the stay at home mom role I have striven all my life to avoid? These questions haunt me more with every rejection, with every day I troll the Internet for new agents to approach.

Despair, like the cat curled up under my desk, lurks at my feet. It raises its head now and again to stare malevolently at me, dismissing my efforts to be something as nothing but bothersome noise.

I know there is nothing for it but to soldier on. Decisions have been made, and cannot be undone. I must carry on as though I have faith in my books and myself. And so I resort to food therapy.

No, I don’t go on a chocolate binge—I know it will leave me feeling worse than I started—but I choose food that makes me happy. It could be comfort food, like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch. It could be food that is pretty, like a salad sprinkled with bright nasturtium flowers. It could be food that takes skill to make, like tortillas. Or it could be food that I know will make my family happy, like spaghetti with tofu meatballs. Whatever the food is, I choose it to make me feel better about myself and my lot in life.

Does it help?

Well, a plate of food is never going to sell a book, no matter how pretty or comforting it is, but it does make it easier to manage the daily grind of criticism and rejection. To be able to step away from work and focus on something as simple and fundamental to life as food can be a profoundly centring activity.

And a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt, either.

Poached Pears

DSC_0008 copyWe have a surfeit of pears at the moment—big gorgeous ones from the Lincoln University research plots—so I made poached pears for dessert. It may be the first time I’ve made poached pears, and I was surprised at how quick and easy it was to make this elegant dessert. The kids declared them delicious, and I will certainly make them again.

Combine in a large measuring cup:

1 ¼ c. sugar

Enough water to make 4 cups of sugar solution

Stir until the sugar dissolves, and then pour the sugar solution into a medium saucepan. Add:

1 cinnamon stick

4 whole cloves

3 cardamom pods

2 chunks of candied ginger

Bring to a boil. While the sugar solution is heating, peel and core four large pears, leaving the stems intact. Simmer the pears in the sugar solution for about 10 minutes, turning them gently every few minutes. When the pears are soft, but not disintegrating, cover the pan and allow to cool to room temperature. Serve with a few spoonfuls of the poaching liquid poured over them.

Carrots

DSC_0037smI eat them almost every night in dinner, and usually with lunch, and often in between meals, too. Nothing satisfies my munchies like the sweet juicy crunch of a carrot. I know I’d automatically reach for cake over carrots, if I could get it, but cake is like riding the crest of a big wave on your boogie board—a thrill while it lasts, but pretty soon you’re going to be washed up on the sand. Cake’s sugar crash can be brutal, but carrots are both satisfying and sustaining.

I could go on about carrots’ nutritional values—how they contain lots of vitamin A, C, and K, how they are low in calories and high in fibre. But frankly, I don’t care. They are delicious and satisfy my snacking cravings; who cares about the rest?

I grow a lot of carrots, but never enough to get us through the year. My favourite variety is Touchon, a sweet orange carrot that grows beautifully in my garden. I also plant Purple Dragon, Solar Yellow, and Nutri-Red, just for fun and variety.

I love braised carrots, roasted carrots, grilled carrots, carrots in soup, carrots in my macaroni and cheese, and carrots in salad. But mostly I love carrot sticks, eaten any time of day or night, whenever I’m feeling a little peckish.